[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 174
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂, Anders ♂, Fenris ♂
Rating: E (L2 N4 S4 V0 D1)
Warnings: Drunken stupidity, hot Hawke-on-Hawke action, Justice likes lyrium
Notes: Things get a little less fantastically Hawkeward, for a little while, but no less smutty.
Still half-watching the brothers, Fenris’s sounds of pleasure choked off and broke into sounds of wheezing laughter. He let his head fall back to the pillow and cackled at the ceiling, the sound still breathy and punctuated with the occasional gasp at the feeling of Justice’s lips and tongue. He’d been close, but that sight had caught him by surprise.
Artie swatted Fenris with a pillow and, after making sure Cormac wasn’t going to choke to death, burst into a fit of giggles as well. "I’m sorry," he gasped out. "Too drunk for earthquakes apparently. I didn’t think to… oh Maker."
Cormac grabbed the slightly-used bedsheet and blew his nose into it a few times. "Anything else you want to tell me, before I pay you back for that?" he asked, crooking his fingers again, before sliding them out. "I was thinking maybe I’d just hold you down and have my way with you. If you beg prettily enough, it won’t even be in the gross spot." Not the wet spot. This went beyond ‘wet’.
It wasn’t until their body started to vibrate that Justice realised Anders had started to shake, but he couldn’t make out the reason. Pleasure? Discomfort? Humour? But, Anders waved aside his concern, still mostly focused on Fenris, reminding Justice of how good the lyrium tasted, how good it felt against their tongue. Flashes of another flavour darted through their mind, although Anders took little pleasure in those memories. Justice was still intrigued by the taste of lyrium in them.
Artemis pulled Cormac closer and tried to ignore the stickiness he could still feel. Bath. There was a bath in his future, but it was probably better to wait until they were done making a mess to take one. "Anything else I want to tell you?" he repeated, trying to pull Cormac on top of him only to remember that his pants and boots were the way. "Only that you’re my favourite big brother and that I love you even when you’re sneezing come?" He disintegrated into more snorting laughter and tried to block the sounds behind his hand, blue eyes wide and apologetic. "Please don’t get any more snot on me."
"Mages," Fenris gasped before focusing again on Justice’s mouth, one hand reaching down to stroke back Justice’s — Anders’s — hair as his head bobbed over him. Fenris whimpered and bit his finger to block out the next sound, the coil of heat at the base of his spine returning. He didn’t know whose name to call out — Anders’s, Justice’s, both? — so he just continued to make warm, nameless sounds around his finger.
The taste of lyrium hit Justice’s tongue in greater force, sweet and sharp. Justice would say he could taste the music in it if such a thing were possible, and a purr rumbled in his throat as he drank it down, Fenris twitching and shuddering underneath him.
"I’m your only big brother," Cormac reminded Artemis, ducking out of the tangle of pants and legs to toss the sheet aside and flip his brother over, kneeling across those narrow thighs as he unlaced his own trousers. "And it’s your come I’m sneezing, so you don’t really get to complain," he teased landing a quick, sharp pinch on Artie’s bottom. "Do you want me? Do you want me to satisfy myself inside you? Or have we destroyed enough of your dreams for one night?" His embarrassment was still plain in the laugh that followed. That had not been at all how he’d meant this to go, but he thought it might yet be salvageable. Artie was probably too damn drunk to remember it, later. He hoped. Anders would remember it enough for all of them, he was sure.
Justice let the slowly-softening flesh slide from his mouth, his tongue still tracing the lines, before they crossed his lips. He had no idea what to say, so he busied his mouth with the lines along Fenris’s hip, instead. Still, Anders seemed to think something was wrong, but … quietly. Anders made no move to stop him, or to encourage him to do anything else. Justice pressed a kiss to a conjunction of lines and spoke against the skin. "WAS THAT… CORRECT? ACCEPTABLE?"
‘Was it good?‘ Anders finally prompted, and Justice repeated the words.
Fenris took a moment to catch his breath, to wait for the world to stop spinning and for colours to right themselves. "Yes, it was ‘acceptable’," he said in a warm tone that wasn’t quite a laugh. An absurd answer to an absurd situation. "It was good."
Next to him, Artemis tucked a pillow under his chest and offered Fenris a lopsided smile. Artie glanced over his shoulder at Cormac and wriggled his ass in invitation. "Might as well go for broke, big brother," he teased. "Though I’m not sure you could top that last performance." It was still better than what he’d pictured all those years ago, and he might tell Cormac as much later.
Fenris looked back down at Justice, noting the pensive way his brows furrowed and wondered what he should do now. "Do you want me to, er…?" He gestured vaguely down towards Justice’s crotch. He wasn’t about to bend over for the flagpole, but some reciprocation was in order.
Justice looked down as Fenris gestured, noting, once again, the rather uncomfortable sensation that Anders seemed to enjoy. He opened his mouth to ask a question he hadn’t finished formulating, but Anders dragged him back.
"No." That was Anders — clearly Anders — even as the seams of blue still flickered along his face and neck. "Absolutely not. Nothing personal, but you are much too drunk to be getting anywhere near my knob. I could fix that problem for you, but I doubt that would make this any better of an idea." Justice reached out and ran a finger down one of the lines on Fenris’s thigh, before Anders pulled their hand back.
Anders stepped back off the bed. "I’m just going to stop touching you, now, before Justice gets too wound up again." He glanced around the room for something to get the taste out of his mouth. It wasn’t that Fenris tasted bad, it was just a flavour he never thought would be on his tongue again, and everyone else was too drunk for him to be having this problem.
Cormac paused, knob pressed teasingly against Artemis’s hole. "Anders? You all right?"
"I’m fine. … Justice, you know?" Not the whole truth, but some part of it.
"C’mere, gorgeous. Don’t just lurk in the corner, because Fenris is tiny. No offence, Fenris, but you are. My sister’s bigger than you." Cormac’s drunken rambling might have been less drunk than it had been downstairs, but it was no less rambly. "Come sit, Anders. I can pet you while I give my brother what he wants. I can give you both what you want. I’m talented like that." He grinned over his shoulder and pressed his hips forward, just the smallest bit.
"I am not tiny," Fenris huffed, flopping back to the bed. "I am a reasonable size. I am not a magical bear." He nodded solemnly to himself.
"A magical wolf?" Artemis suggested around a gasp. He tried to press back against Cormac, to draw him in deeper.
Fenris hummed, turning that over in his mind. "Still too hairy," he said. He was unsure when he reached over, but he found his hand tangled in Artie’s hair, combing through the sweaty strands.
"But not as hairy as a magical Hawke," Artie replied. He snickered into the pillow, drunk enough to be proud of his wit. Anders shook his head but sat on the edge of the bed, watching the drunken fools in front of him and thinking of another elf before shaking the thought away. "Come on, big brother," Artemis purred, bucking against him. "I thought you were going to have your way with me."
Cormac pushed in, slow but unceasing, terribly proud of the amount of lube he’d thought to use in advance. For all that he’d have been just as happy without, he thought Artemis might have strangled him with his own intestines. He settled one hand between Artie’s shoulders, shifting his weight forward as he ground in hard, at the end of the first thrust. "I love you, you obnoxious little prick," he sighed, drawing slowly back out to tease his brother with just the head, before he slammed forward and fell into a desperate rut, pounding into the hot, tight body beneath him. His other hand reached for Anders, glancing off his side, stroking a thigh.
Catching the hand Cormac offered him, Anders pressed a kiss into the palm, a small smile crossing his face as he watched the brothers enjoy each other. For all this, they were still very much brothers, and it amused him to watch them fall further into each other without ever losing sight of that. After a moment, he laid Cormac’s hand on his own belly, leaning back against the footboard to offer a better angle.
"Love you, too," Artemis panted, the force of Cormac’s thrusts making his voice shake, "you obnoxious bigger prick." He threw a smirk over his shoulder before his face twisted in pleasure.
Fenris watched Artemis’s face, his own body still humming, and marvelled at how beautiful his mage was even like this, especially like this. Artie pressed his face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds Cormac was jarring of him, and Fenris slid a hand under Artie’s cheek, pulling his mouth away from the pillow. "I want to hear you," Fenris murmured, and from the look on Cormac’s face, he suspected he did too.
Artemis’s face twisted as though he were about to complain, but he remembered Cormac’s words to him the last time they were together. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Fenris’s palm and let a soft moan spill out over his elf’s skin.
"Fuck right I’m bigger," Cormac panted, twisting his hips down and feeling Artemis move with him. "Bigger, harder, and buried in your incredible ass." It was a ridiculous thing to say, and he knew it, biting his tongue not to laugh, even as he felt Anders shiver beside him, obviously also not laughing. "Show me how good it feels, little brother. Let me hear you. Let me hear all those sexy little sounds you make."
Just the thought of that was enough to make Cormac’s thighs shake, and he pushed the thought away, to focus on Anders, as his hips served themselves. He stroked and kneaded Anders’s tunic, bunching the cloth between his fingers, as his hand circled gently. He didn’t much need to think about it, after so many years — his hand knew what it was doing — but even with that contented smile on Anders’s face, Cormac could tell it wasn’t enough. The tension showed at the corners of Anders’s eyes, in the way his ears sat.
"Anders," Cormac started, hand working on the knots of Anders’s trousers through the tunic, "do you want to fuck me? Because I want it. I want you. Both of you."
Grabbing Cormac’s hand, Anders thought he might say no, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he didn’t want to say no, he didn’t want to give in to the lyrium taste turning foul on his tongue. "When do I not?" he asked, hoping Cormac wasn’t drunk enough to actually answer that question, because he knew the answer wasn’t the ‘never’ that was implied.