Oct 242015
 

[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 228
Co-Conspirator: TumblrMaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke , Anders , Artemis Hawke ,  Fenris , Varric , Orana
Rating: M (L3 N2 S2 V0 D0)
Warnings: Cormac opens his mouth, partial nudity, a lot of people staring at Cormac’s (clothed) crotch
Notes: Cormac wakes up more dressed than he went to bed. And this is going to take keys to remove.


The first thing Cormac noticed, when he woke, was that he was no longer naked. It didn’t make proper sense, really, since he wasn’t in the habit of getting up and wearing clothes, in the middle of the night, but perhaps he’d put on some smalls, because his ass was cold, and just didn’t remember it. As that filtered into his thoughts, other things began to occur to him, like the fact that smalls usually felt like cloth, not leather and steel.

He kicked he bedclothes down in a panic, to find his loins clothed in some horrific contraption that was locked about his waist. Pulling and twisting at it seemed to have no effect. This was not coming off.

Trying to remember to breathe, Cormac took his time examining the thing — apparently, he could still piss, at least, but that was about it. Chastity belt. He’d somehow woken up in a chastity belt, and this made no sense at all, to him. Perhaps it was a surprise from Anders, although they did usually discuss mad things like this before they happened. That was it. He’d go to Anders, first. This was likely just some strange tease, to keep him interested all day.

In that light, he found himself much better pleased, with the idea. Tugging on his robes, he headed downstairs.

Anders was writing at his desk. Or, rather, trying to write as best he could with a cat swatting at his quill. Assbiter had the quill feather between his paws as he gnawed at the end. Ink smeared across the paper, and Justice grumbled in the back of his head.

"Contrary to what you might think, this is not helping," Anders told Assbiter, freeing the quill and shooing the cat. Assbiter mrowed his displeasure and scurried over to weave between Cormac’s ankles. Oh. Cormac. When had he gotten there? "Good morning," Anders greeted him, one hand smoothing out the quill now wet with cat spit. "Assuming it’s morning."

"Oh, it’s morning," Cormac assured him, nuzzling Anders’s cheek, before stealing a quick kiss. "I see you left me a present, in the night. Do you want to tell me where the keys are, or is that something I’m going to have to wait until after dark to find out?" Cormac purred and rubbed his cheek on Anders, stretching out one hand to pet Assbiter.

For a few moments, Cormac seemed to be content to wrestle with the cat, over Anders’s shoulder, trying to keep the pointy little paws off Anders’s work. Anders sat in silence for a time, looking distinctly contemplative, before he spoke again.

"A… present?" he asked. "One involving keys?" Anders had blacked out for a little while last night, but he’d assumed Justice had spent that time working on the manifesto. He wonder what kind of ‘gift’ Justice would give Cormac.

A trickle of sweat ran down the back of Cormac’s neck. "Well, I hope it’s from you, because otherwise it’s got to be Artie… or I hope so, anyway. I can’t imagine…" He paused and stepped back into Anders’s view, leaning against the shelves behind the desk. "Chastity belt?" Reaching down, Cormac hiked up his robes to show it off. "I did think that was a bit much, but I was hoping you had a plan that would make it all worthwhile…" There was a hint of panic creeping around the edges of his smile.

Anders stared at the belt, waiting to see if this was an elaborate joke on Cormac’s part or if he was serious. As the seconds ticked by, Anders realised the joke was on Cormac, not by him. "That’s… lovely craftsmanship," Anders said, "but most of my plans involving you require less on your crotch, not more. I can guarantee you that spikes there have not factored into any of my fantasies." He hoped they hadn’t factored into Justice’s, or he and his spirit were going to need to have a discussion. "Do you really think Artie would…?" Anders trailed off, peering up at Cormac. It was best not to jump to conclusions one way or another when it came to the Hawkes.

"Vibrating butt-plug," Cormac replied, deadpan. "I wouldn’t put anything past my brother. But, that said… I suppose Artie generally agrees with you on how much I should be wearing at any given time. I just have no idea who could have done it without waking me up. You know how I sleep. And more than that, it had to be someone we know, or the dog would have destroyed them, before they even got to the stairs." He sighed and dropped the hem of his robes. "It’s before midday, or I’d just get Anton to pop the locks. You want to walk down to the Hanged Man with me, so we can see if Varric’s up, yet? I’d rather ask Izzy, but I’m sure she’s still in bed."

"Of course," Anders said, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. "For moral support. Not because I can’t wait to see the look on Varric’s face."


And that look was everything Anders had expected. Varric jaw had fallen open, sounds that weren’t quite words starting in his throat. He pointed one finger at Cormac’s crotch. "I am not touching that," he said. "I am not touching anything near that." As he stared, shock gave way to snorting laughter. "Who did you piss off, Shouty?"

"I wish I knew," Cormac sighed, dropping his robes and rubbing his face. "I don’t know what I did, I don’t know who I did it to, all I know is that I’m stuck in this fuckawful thing, until somebody takes pity and pops the locks for me." He paused. "Come on, Varric. The important one’s on my hip. It’s not like you’ve never touched my hip."

"I’m not getting in the middle of whatever weirdo erotic warfare you’ve got going on. The last thing I need is to wake up painted in orichalcum." Varric shook his head. "No way. Maybe if you come back later, and ask the queen, she’ll help you out — and I don’t want to hear a word about what she asks in payment. I don’t really want to hear a scream of it, either, but I’ll take what I can get."

"One lock, Varric. One lock, and you could be spared my payment screams to Izzy." Cormac grinned.

Varric paused for a moment. "No. Not worth it. Why don’t you go ask Stabby?"

"Because Stabby is asleep, and I value my life," Cormac drawled, following with a terribly put-upon sigh.

"I’d say ‘you had it coming’," Varric drawled, "but I’d be worried about you following up with a bad pun I didn’t need."

"Guilty," Anders admitted, tone the opposite of guilty. He nudged Cormac with his elbow. "I’m sure you can live with it for a few hours. Varric, could you send us a runner when the pirate queen is taking visitors?"

"Sure thing, Blondie. Now get that monstrosity out of my room." Varric gestured loosely at Cormac. "And the belt too," he added after a beat.

"You want ‘monstrous’, you’re looking at the wrong one of us." Cormac cocked a thumb at Anders and winked. "I’ll be at my brother’s. Maybe there’s a way to force it open."

"He can’t aim!" Anders squawked, following Cormac toward the door.

"You know if you jam the locks, it’s never coming off," Varric called after them.


Orana stood in the doorway, her smile wavering as soon as she got a look at Cormac. "Messere Cormac! I’ll get Messere Artemis for you. Are you quite well? You look a bit…" She gestured vaguely.

"He’s just a little caught up in something," Anders said, with a smile a little too wide.

"Lounge?" Cormac asked Orana, and she nodded. "I can find it."

Artemis appeared minutes later, Fenris at his side. "Everything all right?" Artie asked, looking his brother over, eyes wide in concern. "Orana sounded worried. Did something happen? Nothing happened, did it?" Cormac looked to be in one piece, at least, but he trusted Anders to clean up the worst of his brother’s stupidity.

"Nothing happened, Artie," Anders said before Cormac did. "No need to get your undergarments in a twist." He bit back a snicker at a joke Artie didn’t get.

"You know, he’s the only one in the room who’s supposed to be wearing undergarments. You don’t wear them, all of Kirkwall would know if Fenris wore them, I don’t wear them on purpose." Cormac turned his attention to his brother. "Good morning, brother dear. You don’t happen to know why I seem to be wearing steel smalls, do you? Maybe you have the key?"

"You… what?" Artemis looked down and, now that Cormac mentioned it, he could see that the line of the robes was slightly off. Eyeing Cormac, Artie reached down to trace the line the steel drew in Cormac’s robes, and his eyebrows shot up. After glancing over his shoulder to make sure Orana wasn’t in sight, he rucked up Cormac’s robes and peered under them. "What. Is that…?"

Artemis stared a moment longer before dropping the robes, filling the room with his wheezing laughter. "Why the fuck are you wearing a chastity belt? Are you into that, now?"

"And that, brother dear, is the hundred-sovereign question. Why am I wearing a chastity belt? I certainly didn’t put it on myself. You know how much I enjoy the humid Kirkwall breeze against my nethers." Cormac was just that little bit too calm. "I thought maybe Anders had some delightful plans for the evening that involved me spending the day painfully appreciating his delightful figure, but alas, no. I thought perhaps this might be your doing, some wicked plan to lure me back to your lovely garden — did I hear you’d gotten some Tevinter pieces, after the wedding? But, no, it would appear this is not your doing, either. So, here I am, with no idea why I’m wearing a chastity belt, or who could have gotten me into one, without waking me up."

"That’s really the part that concerns me," Anders admitted. "You know your brother wakes up every time the stone settles. I suspect he might have been drugged."

Artie gave Anders an odd look. "Are you sure? He use to sleep through everything back in Lothering…"

Cormac cleared his throat. "Well, you had enough going on. Didn’t need to be worried about what I knew. You’d wake me, and I’d go right back to sleep, anyway."

Anders looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to put the rest of that together. He and Fenris shared questioning looks over Artemis’s shoulder.

Artie’s face turned red enough to let out its own heat. He looked at everything but Cormac. "Oh."

Fenris cleared his throat. "As to the… matter at hand," he said, one eyebrow twitching. "If you were drugged, there are worse things that could have happened. Likely this is someone who knows you, probably someone who knows how annoyingly loud you can be." Fenris made a face, ears jutting at weird angles. "So that leaves us half of Kirkwall, really."

"Only half?" Artie asked, still red in the face. "Looks like Anders needs to try harder."

"Bethany wouldn’t get near my sausage and eggs if her life depended on it," Cormac pointed out, "and that’s the loudest anyone gets about me being loud inside the house. Do you know she actually wrote a four-hundred-page treatise on my sex life? Just to make a point!" He shook his head. "Anton sleeps like the dead, as long as he can identify the noise, and he’s got Cullen to keep his mind off what I’m doing in the other room. Really doesn’t seem like Bodhan’s style. Pretty sure the dog and goat together don’t have enough thumbs for this, but maybe if the cats helped…"

"Isabela," Anders suggested. "You haven’t seen her in weeks. You said it, yourself — you meant to get her to pick the locks. It’s a guarantee that puts you right where she wants you and at her mercy."

"Seems a little extra sneaky, for Izzy, though. She’s more the type to just show up naked in my bed, and never mind the politics." Cormac shrugged, reaching out to cup Artie’s cheek, firmly, for a moment. They’d have to talk about that, at some point, Cormac figured, but now was likely not the time.

"Sandal?" Fenris suggested drolly. He leaned back against the doorframe, arms folded. "Perhaps it’s an enchanted chastity belt." He didn’t bother keeping the smile off his face. "I will not lie; I would have been tempted if I lived in the same house." He pushed off the doorframe, approaching the brothers to wrap his arms around the one he’d married. "Perhaps it was Meredith. Templar vigilance, and all."

Artie bit his lip, cheek twisting under Cormac’s hand as he smirked. He still didn’t quite meet Cormac’s eyes. "Meredith picking out chastity belts for all suspected mages? There’s a thought. As long as I don’t end up in one."

"Oh, I think you’d look delightful in one!" Cormac teased. "Especially with Fenris and I there to put all sorts of terrible ideas in your head. Can you imagine it?" He paused. "Of course, that would only be delightful if we actually had the key for it. Which, right now, we don’t, and that is much less delightful."

"I’ve got five silver that says I can defeat the purpose of the belt, even if I can’t pick the locks," Anders said, after a moment’s consideration. "Someone knows just enough about you to know you get loud, but not enough to know what actually gets you going." Smirking at Artie, he chewed on his lip, contemplatively. "You want to see if I’m right?"

Artie smiled, and Fenris sighed against his mage’s neck, turned his head to nibble at his ear.

"I think someone’s already putting terrible ideas in your head, Amatus," Fenris murmured.

"Indeed," Artie agreed. "They are my favourite kind. What do you have in mind, Anders?"

"Oh, you’ve got some lovely stone floor, in other rooms. It wouldn’t be difficult to mop up a bit of blood." Anders gave an exaggerated shrug.

Cormac sucked a quick breath between his teeth, shifting uncomfortably. He glanced down and a smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Someone doesn’t know me very well, at all."

Anders sighed, smiling over Cormac’s head in sly amusement. "I’ll fix that, when you break it, along with everything else I’m going to break."

Cormac seemed to vibrate, as his left thigh started to twitch. "You keep talking like that, and you might not have to touch me, at all." He turned an inquisitive eye on Artemis. "But, I wouldn’t want to deprive my brother of the pleasure. Assuming, of course, that’s something you’d take pleasure in."

Artie grinned back at his brother, shivering when Fenris’s teeth worried at the shell of his ear.

"I can see to your brother’s pleasure, Cormac," Fenris said in a low purr, hips tilting up against Artemis’s ass in an obvious suggestion.

"That would be a fun game," Artie said to Anders and Fenris. "See just how riled up we can get him without actually touching him." He slid a smirk in Cormac’s direction. "We should probably send Orana out, however."

A flicker of betrayal darted across Cormac’s face, and he studied the bottles on the other side of the room. "Whatever you want, Artie. Always."

"I am in favour of whatever game involves me not touching Cormac," Fenris replied wryly. He kissed Artemis’s neck and pulled back. "I shall tell her. Perhaps she can visit Evie."

Anders heard the change in Cormac’s voice, how it went flat and a little distant. "Okay, I don’t have that kind of faith in my abilities, so if you’d rather I didn’t get blood all over the floor, maybe we should do this outside. How’s the garden looking, these days? I haven’t seen it since…" He coughed and rubbed his eyebrow with the back of his wrist. Since he’d set it on fire, at the wedding. Of course, given how many people were sure Danarius started the fire, he couldn’t be sure it was his fault, but he certainly didn’t improve the situation.

"Still growing back in," Artemis sighed, "but… serviceable. A bit like Cormac’s chest hair after our last brush with a magister. But I can show you our, uh, new furniture. Which is easy to clean, of blood or… other things." He eyed Cormac as he spoke, hating the flat tone of his voice and that disappointed look in his eyes. Artie walked up to his brother, gave Cormac’s beard a teasing tug, and pulled him into a kiss. "You should know when I’m teasing you, brother-dear," he murmured. "In fact, you should assume I’m always teasing you. Every word I say, a tease and not to be trusted."

In the doorway, Fenris coughed pointedly, and Artemis drew back in time to bid Orana goodbye as she made for the door.

"Are you saying the untrustworthy dick flowers were accurate? My, my… I suppose I owe Fenris an apology for offering to punch him in the teeth." Cormac shot Fenris a sly smile, around Artie’s shoulder. "You should know I take you at your word, when you tell me what you want, little brother. And you should be ever so careful what comes out of your mouth, lest I actually do it."

"Speaking of mouths," Anders said, after a beat, "nothing goes in Cormac’s until we’re done here. I need to know if we screw up, and I need to know it as soon as possible. So, yes, this is going to be loud."

"Awww!" Cormac whined, stepping back to nuzzle under Anders’s chin. "Nothing?"

Anders remained unmoved. "Nothing. You can put that in your mouth, later."

Fenris sighed. "Should I send away the neighbours too, then? The last thing we need is Aveline knocking on our door because the neighbours thought someone was being murdered."

"Aveline would know better," Artemis pointed out. "She knows what a screaming Cormac means. She knows what a screaming Cormac sounds like."

"So does the rest of Kirkwall," Fenris muttered.