[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 175
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: A pile of half-dressed mages. Fenris observes.
Watching Anders disrobe out of the corner of his eye, Artemis smirked and said, "It’s a bit like that time on the couch. Just… rearranged." And he remembered how obscene that had seemed at the time, sharing someone with the brother he’d spent well over a decade hiding his lust for. He remembered watching Cormac over Anders’s shoulder, remembered Cormac’s hands grabbing his hips.
Fenris’s eyes met Anders before both of them looked elsewhere. ‘That time on the couch’ meant something very different to Fenris, and it took Anders a moment to remember that other time on the couch.
"You don’t feel left out, do you?" Artie asked Fenris, misinterpreting the strangled sound his elf made.
"I am perfectly content not fucking your brother," Fenris said archly.
"Your loss," Anders said, climbing over Artie’s legs to kneel behind Cormac. Justice’s attention was still on the lyrium elf, but Anders’s was on Cormac, hands reaching down to give that familiar ass a squeeze.
"I love how no one considers my opinion on any of this," Cormac muttered, using his free hand to haul Artie’s hips up, while still leaning between his shoulders. "For the record, I agree with Fenris. I get my ‘tastes like the Fade’ elsewhere. Which reminds me…" He considered it, for a long moment — the idea of fading out, again, while he ravished his brother, but that sounded like it might not be the best idea he’d ever had. If nothing else, he was still too drunk not to screw that up in some horrifying fashion or other. Still, if he didn’t actually step out… If he just let it settle onto his skin… The idea was tempting, and maybe he would, but not right now. Right now, Justice was too close to the surface, and this wasn’t for him, it was for Anders.
"We already know your opinion," Fenris reminded him, slurring words against Artemis’s lips. "Only one of us needed to voice it, since we are in agreement."
"Both of your loss," Anders teased, pressing a hand to Cormac’s belly. "You’re too drunk for me not to," he apologised, casting a small grease spell right where he needed it.
Cormac relaxed, subtly, rhythm changing as the grease settled inside him. "I know." He turned his head and pressed his lips to Anders’s arm. "Is this what you wanted, that night on the couch? Is that why you slapped my hands away so fast? Were you afraid my touch would make you beg for it? The feel of my hands on you would push you over the edge into the depths of everything you ever wanted?" Cormac teased his brother mercilessly. "Even then, if you begged for it, you’d have had it. Any moment in our lives, with the possible exception of some near death ones, if you wanted me, wanted anything I could give you, all you had to do was ask."
Anders reflected that Cormac never said things like that to him, but that Cormac had never once let him down, even in situations where he hadn’t expected anyone to stand with him. It was more than he had any right to hope for.
Artemis whimpered against Fenris’s lips, and Fenris breathed in the sound, his lips leaving Artemis’s to trace the line of his mage’s jaw. Even drunk, Fenris envied how easily Cormac said such filth as he watched and felt the way Artemis reacted. "Maker, Cormac," Artie breathed. "It was like you were fucking me through Anders, and I… I wanted…"
"You two will be the death of me," Anders muttered, resting his cheek against the top of Cormac’s head. That night on the couch was one of his fonder memories, and he closed his eyes, remembering the way the couch had rattled, how the brothers had felt on either side of him. He pressed the tip of his knob to Cormac’s entrance, hands tight on Cormac’s hips, coaxing him to hold still as he pushed in.
"I’m glad you’re here now too," Artemis whispered in Fenris’s ear, turning his head to nuzzle his elf’s cheek. Bracing himself on one arm, Artie reached for Fenris, skating a hand down his stomach and fondling him under his tunic. "And, I think, so is Justice."
Fenris cupped Artemis’s face in his hands. "And I’m glad we’re not doing this on a couch," he whispered back, making Artie grin.
"I don’t think even Anton could find a couch big enough for all f—" Cormac’s words ended in a raw, pleading sound as Anders slid into him, so incredibly huge, as he always was with the first thrust. He lowered himself along his brother’s back, hand still pressed between Artemis’s shoulders. "Please," he breathed against his brother’s shoulder, before his voice returned to him.
Anders smoothed his hand down Cormac’s back, always struck by how easily Cormac always offered himself. Even impaled as he was, Cormac still wanted more, and Anders found himself no less amazed, in the moment, than he’d been the first time. Watching himself slide into Cormac’s body was always such a thrill, but one they so rarely took the time for, if only because he liked watching Cormac’s face, even more.
Beneath him, Cormac finally caught his breath. "Anders, please, I want you. I need this. I need you. Please, please, please, make me bleed for you," he begged, not as loud as he’d get, but definitely no longer a breathy whisper. A long groan poured out of Cormac’s mouth as Anders slid slowly back out, rolling his hips. The next words out of Cormac were aimed the other way, though. "Tell me what you wanted, Artie. I’m here, now. I’m here inside you, and I’ll give you anything you want. I just want to hear you tell me. Turns me on the way you think about me, listening to you talk about me…"
And that was something Artemis still had to stop and marvel at every now and then, the fact that this was Cormac inside him, above him, fulfilling all those teenage fantasies he’d felt so guilty for for so many years. Here he was with these three men, his brother, his love, and his friend, feeling incredibly wanted and loved… and still more than a little drunk, but he was used to that.
"I wanted you both," Artemis breathed, a soft sound catching in his throat as Anders rocked Cormac forward into him. "It’s why I didn’t argue as much as I should have, why I blamed it on being drunk. I was so worried you’d notice and I’d give myself away." He turned his head to whisper over his shoulder, "I knew it was your ass I grabbed, you know." He was drunk enough to admit that, and he and Cormac were in deep enough that he wouldn’t be too mortified by that in the morning.
"I’m almost sorry I missed that," Fenris purred, nipping down Artemis’s throat. But that just reminded him why he’d missed it, reminded him how angry he’d been at Artemis for reasons that seemed so pointless now.
"Funny thing," Anders mumbled, most of his attention on grinding into Cormac without hurting Artemis, "when you stop being a dick and start using your dick, you start getting invited to the fun parties."
Cormac choked on a laugh, as he lifted his hips, pushing Anders back. He could do most of the work, at least for a while, he thought, rocking forward into Artemis and then back again onto Anders. "I didn’t care why you grabbed my ass," he admitted, finally. "It felt good, and it was you. Worth a warning, sure, but…" He slowly lifted himself back up, bent straighter than his brother, beneath him, as Anders towered over them both, casting a long shadow in the room’s dim light. "I grabbed you because I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to bounce you too hard on the flagpole, when I got that bounce going off the couch cushions. Occurred to me I was fucking you with the flagpole, and I just… didn’t know what to do with that, other than to make sure I didn’t hurt you."
Cormac laughed again and picked up the pace, a bit, as he adjusted to Anders inside him. Anders’s hands wandered Cormac’s body, a pinch here, a long, slow scrape there, and Cormac’s rhythm started to reflect it, his hips stuttering at each new little pain. "Shit, Anders, don’t fucking tease me!" he barked, even as his back bowed, offering his ass more enticingly. Not that Anders really needed the invitation, but it never hurt. Well, no, that wasn’t quite right. It never hurt the cause. It frequently hurt Cormac. Which was really the point, and he made it again. "I want more, Anders. Show them how I like it. Show them how I love it when you make me bleed."
"So demanding, these Hawkes," Anders said, catching Fenris’s eye and grinning. His hips snapped forward, shoving into Cormac and rocking him again into Artemis, knocking a short shout from Artie’s lungs. Fenris purred at the sound, rocking up into Artemis’s hand when his mage’s rhythm stuttered. How Fenris ended up in bed with three mages he’d never know, but for once he wasn’t complaining.
Anders’s hips gave another shove, but Artemis choked off that next sound, burying his face in Fenris’s neck. "Huh," Anders said. "A shame. I was hoping to get both Hawkes shouting at once." He picked up a rhythm, settling into the familiar motions he knew Cormac liked, careful not to push him too hard into Artemis, just in case. Every now and then, another shove would catch Artie off guard and startle another loud sound out of him as he panted against Fenris’s throat.
Cormac might not have been screaming, yet, but he’d definitely started pleading, a constant stream of outrageous demands for entirely vile things pouring off his tongue. Fenris shuddered at the ideas involved, having witnessed some of them, and hesitant to even imagine others being put into practise. So many of those things would result in gouts of blood, shredded muscle, broken bones, and after a bit, he came to the terrifying conclusion that that was exactly the appeal of them, for Cormac — that he wasn’t just into a few bites and pinches that were a little too hard, he was into things that made the healer a necessity. What was it with Hawkes, he wondered, thinking of how Artemis loved to be held down and choked. He debated asking Cullen about Anton, just to see if this was a family thing.
Anders’s fingers settled onto Cormac’s nipple, rolling it gently, first. Cormac tensed, knowing what would follow, but it wasn’t until his body started to relax that Anders dug in his nail and pulled, sparks skipping from his fingertips. Then, Cormac finally screamed — screamed loud enough to rouse every passed-out drunk in the building, most likely, but this close to the docks, no one would care. The pleading continued, deafeningly loud, now, as he bucked desperately between Anders and Artemis, between fucking and fucked, moving faster and faster, unable to get enough of anything, and wanting more of everything at once.
It turned out they didn’t need earthquakes to rattle the bed, and the headboard banged against the wall, underlining every shout and scream, every ridiculous or chilling request Cormac made. Fenris watched the three mages, the three entwined bodies undulating against each other on display for his enjoyment. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen such a thing, but it was the first time he’d enjoyed it and been allowed and invited to enjoy it.
Artemis’s whimpers grew more desperate against Fenris’s throat, and Fenris felt his mage start to shiver. "Please," Artie begged, still pulling at Fenris. "I need… please."
Fenris didn’t know whom he was addressing, but he recognised the need in his voice. Fenris pressed a kiss to Artemis’s cheek. "What do you need, Amatus?" he rumbled in Artemis’s ear. He flexed the fingers of one hand and held his mage close with the other. "Do you want me to touch you?" His flexing fingers turned Fade-blue, telling Artemis exactly what he meant by that.
"Yes, Maker, Fen."
Fenris pet back Artemis’s hair with his solid hand while he reached into Artie’s chest with the other. Artemis’s eyes popped wide, letting out another shout, not nearly as loud as his brother but loud enough to fill the room.
In the back of Anders’s mind, Justice sat up at attention at the sound of the Fade’s music.
Cormac howled, back bowing tightly, as Anders pulled away the arm he’d been supporting himself with, easing him down against Artemis’s back. Anders reached down to the bottom of the pile, cupping his hand around Artie’s bits, curling his thumb around the base of Artie’s knob. As long as he kept Cormac pinned tight between them, this wouldn’t end too poorly. Anders knew he had to keep Cormac from jarring Artie’s chest too much, while Fenris’s hand was in the way, and he kept a close eye on that, even as he spilled quietly into Cormac, hips stuttering for barely a moment, before he picked up the rhythm again, breath strong and even.
Crushed between his lover and his beloved, Cormac wasn’t quite sure he was entirely comfortable with the Fade-fingers that close to him. Or that far into his brother, really. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it, but it still disturbed him, terribly, and he tried to focus on Anders suddenly throbbing so much harder inside him. The first. If he could get another five or six, Anders would sleep well, and Cormac clamped down around the flagpole, with that in mind, wringing it as he rocked his hips, out of time to Anders’s thrusts, putting Artemis at the end of some strange three-point rhythm.
Fenris’s fingertips were gentle on Artemis’s hammering heart, and this, to him, was the most intimate thing of all, feelings his fiancé’s pulse from the inside and feeling him shiver. His solid hand and arm held Artemis steady, his grip tight so Artie didn’t jostle against his hand too much, and Fenris nodded in thanks to Anders for helping on his end. "Te ardeo," he murmured against the shell of Artemis’s ear as he pulled his fingers back to trace the lines of his ribs instead, following the curve to his breastbone, his collarbone, sliding along the scapula and back to the spine, finding the nerves there that made Artemis choke out another desperate sound against his throat.
Anders watched as he rocked Cormac forward into Artemis, unsure he liked the amount of attention Justice was paying to this. No. This was not a thing they were going to do. They would not have their organs fondled by the lyrium elf, no matter how enjoyable Artemis seemed to find it, no matter how prettily Artemis pleaded for more.
"Can you give us another shout, Amatus?" Fenris purred as he pet his mage in time to the rhythm the others had set. Artemis’s whimpered reply was less than intelligible. And Fenris could have been imagining it, but he could have sworn he felt the bed start to quiver.
"Yes," Cormac panted, catching his breath between screams. "Come for me, Artie. Squeeze me, beg for me, tease me until I can’t keep it in, but come for me first." As if he’d forgotten that he’d already ended up with the first load in his sinuses.
Anders pounded in harder, his hands trying to keep the bodies under him from moving the wrong way, which didn’t leave him much room for the usual spectacularly painful things Cormac loved. Instead, he leaned down and sunk his teeth into Cormac’s shoulder, letting the electricity dance from his tongue as he lapped at the bruising flesh in his mouth. Cormac screamed again, and Anders moved up the line of his shoulder, all teeth and sparks, landing finally at the back of Cormac’s neck.
That sound was unmistakeable, and Anders made a note to apologise to Artemis, later, because that was probably almost right in his ear. That was the sound of Cormac finally letting go, every muscle in his body rippling in waves, choking off the raw howl of pleasure every few seconds, until Cormac lay loose and panting between Anders and Artemis.
"Please, please, please." The words were barely there, as Cormac tried to remember how to breathe. "More. Don’t stop. Please."
Anders didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow, his teeth still worrying at a set of Cormac’s bruises. Without Cormac’s screams, he could hear the rattle of the headboard against the wall more clearly, could feel the bed shaking from more than just the force of his thrusts.
Artemis’s softer sounds filled the room instead. "Cormac," he choked, his brother’s shout still ringing in his ear. Fenris murmured words of encouragement in his ear as he stiffened, hips shaking. He squeezed around Cormac as he spilled onto the sheets, his pulse pounding in his ears, in his throat, against Fenris’s fingers.
Artie slumped bonelessly into the bed, hips still high in the air where Anders gripped them, and Fenris slid his fingers free.