[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 235
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂, Fenris ♂
Rating: E (L3 N2 S4 V0 D0)
Warnings: Hot Hawke-on-Hawke action, bondage, light D/s
Notes: "Just a reminder of the sort of things your devotedly annoying older brother can do, when you’re tied up."
Cormac inched to the side, putting himself in a better position for what was to follow. He knew what Artemis wanted, but actually doing it was harder than it looked, at least for him. He wondered if Fenris struggled with the idea, like he did. Probably not. Stroking Artemis’s throat with one hand, he eased himself deeper, but only as far as the back of Artie’s mouth, before pulling back to set up a slow and easy rhythm.
Trying very hard not to look too much at Cormac, Fenris watched for the signs of pleasure he knew so well, tracing the subtle lines of muscle in Artemis’s thighs, as they tightened. He dipped one glowing finger into the centre of Artemis’s chest, tracing tiny, gentle circles against the heart, beneath.
The lyrium in Fenris’s skin burned in the most wonderful way, and Artemis shivered, exhaling harshly through his nose. The knob in his mouth warped the sounds in his throat, and his wrists tugged at the restraints, wanting to reach for either of them, to pull them closer.
Fenris watched him move, listened to make sure the sounds he heard from Artemis were the right kind. "Do you want something, Amatus?" he asked innocently, prompting another mewling sound from his mage around his brother’s knob.
Artemis tilted his head back as much as he could to make the angle easier for Cormac, trying to coax him deeper with the barest scrape of teeth. It was a bit disorienting, lying like this, and the blood rushed to his head a bit, but it was worth it.
"Bite me if I push too far," Cormac said, sure he’d be able to tell the difference between this bite and the sorts he actually liked. Slowly, he worked his way in, listening to the changes in Artie’s breathing, as he sunk deeper. He watched his brother swallow and gently stroked the side of Artie’s neck. In and out, slow and easy, a little deeper every time. Cormac found himself, simply, utterly terrified of doing this wrong, but finally willing to try.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, knowing Artie couldn’t answer him. "Do you want me to fuck your throat until you can barely breathe and come inside you? Is this what you’ve dreamed of me doing?" If he was wrong, he’d get bit. … he hoped.
Fenris studied the metal and leather of the belt, trying not to lean over the body between them and punch Cormac in the face. He knew this was what Artemis wanted — his mage had said it enough times — but, he still struggled, sometimes, listening to someone else say those things, at all. His hands caressed the spread of bare flesh before him, occasionally dipping in to toy with the edge of a bone.
All Artemis could do was focus on breathing, on the weight of Cormac in his throat, on the sparks of sensation Fenris lit along and under his skin. Like this, there was no room to think, which was exactly how he wanted it. His hips moved under Fenris, desperate for friction, and if his mouth were free he would be begging.
Fenris wrapped his hand around Artie’s hip to hold him still. The last thing he needed was for Artemis to move at an unfortunate moment, with Fenris’s fingers fondling his organs. "It’s a good thing we tied you down," he said, because he knew it was the sort of thing Artie loved to hear, because he wanted Artemis to hear him and remember he was there.
Cormac’s legs shivered, as he picked up the pace a bit, trusting Artemis to let him know if he did something wrong. For all that his brother was the ‘delicate one’, he was also a powerful mage whose teeth were on a rather delicate part of Cormac’s anatomy, and he had some amount of faith that if anything went wrong, he’d know about it quickly. He tried to keep himself upright, as he watched Artemis’s throat, the rise and fall of his chest. This could be all right, he told himself, watching Fenris’s hands, for a moment. Faster and harder, and the sounds of pleasure began to spill out of him, interspersed with praise and declarations of devotion.
Looking up, slowly, Cormac caught Fenris’s eye. "I think he’s going to want you, next," he panted, looking back down at Artemis’s neck, before he continued. "But, I think we should leave him to beg for you, first. Give him time to tell us what he really wants, before we take what we’ll have of him." What he meant, of course, was that he wanted to give Artie a few minutes to breathe.
Fenris nodded, one thumb caressing Artie’s hipbone, the other tracing patterns along his chest. The image of Artemis begging for him — with the breath to beg for him — was one he always liked. "This is a good plan," he said, watching Cormac, even if he’d rather not. He could tell Cormac was getting close, and Fenris watched to make sure he wasn’t about to hurt his mage by accident.
Artemis’s pleased sounds came out garbled, but they were unmistakable.
Panting and thrusting, howling with need, Cormac lost his nerve at the last second, pulling almost all the way back, as he spilled. He caught himself against the marble, as his knees weakened, and for a horrible moment, all he could feel was guilt and shame. He’d failed his brother once again. Of course, that wasn’t something he’d let Artemis see on him, so he pulled out and let the last weak spurts splash across Artie’s face. Brotherly love at its finest.
He took a moment to catch his breath, before looking down. "Whoops. I think I got some on you." Entirely unapologetic, of course.
Artie sucked in huge lungsful of air, waiting until he had breath enough to speak to say, "Ass. Did you…? On my face?" Messy. That was messy. That was messy, and his hands were tied. He twisted to try to rub his face on Cormac’s robe, but the angle was awkward.
Fenris tried not to smirk, but he couldn’t help it, not with the way Artie was twisting and the face he was making. "Still glad we tied you up, Amatus?" he asked.
"So sorry, beloved." Cormac grinned in a way that implied he was anything but. "Do you want me to clean that off you? Do you want me to lick it off you? I think that’s an excellent idea. I can lick it off you and kiss it back into your mouth, where it should have gone." Untucking his robe from his belt, Cormac knelt to get a better look at Artemis’s face. "Aside from that," he murmured, "you all right? You still want more?"
"I would like more of not getting my face sticky," Artemis replied, turning his head to arc an eyebrow in Cormac’s direction. He stretched his neck, trying to rub his face in Cormac’s hair instead.
"Charming," Fenris drawled.
"You’re next," Artemis said, mock threateningly. He winked at his husband. "So yes, Cormac, I’m fine. And yes, Cormac, I want more. It would be unfair of you to stop now."
Laughing, Cormac tossed his hair back, and grabbed Artemis’s, to hold his head still. "It’s not sticky. Maker. What do you think goes into me?" he huffed, before liberally applying his tongue to his brother’s face. A pause to study Artemis’s face — to make sure he’d gotten all of it — and then Cormac kissed him, still awkwardly upside-down, but no less passionate and demanding, for it.
Fenris watched in mild disgust, glancing around for something that wasn’t Artemis’s clothing, with which to wipe off the extraneous Hawke-slobber. Nothing presented itself, but by the time he looked back, Cormac was using the bottom of his robe to wipe away the remaining smears.
Artemis was still scrunching his nose and giving Cormac a wet-cat look, but there was a smile growing at the corner of his mouth. "You are disgusting," he huffed affectionately. "Is this to compensate for my cleanliness? You had to balance it out somehow?"
"Just a reminder of the sort of things your devotedly annoying older brother can do, when you’re tied up." Cormac grinned and kissed Artie’s nose.
"Starting to regret this," Artie said with a melodramatic sigh. "I don’t have to worry about such things when Fenris ties me up." Artemis tilted his head up to give his husband a wink, which Fenris met with a smirk. "Speaking of, what are you still doing down there?" Granted, he liked having Fenris down where his elf could reach through the belt, but he loved the taste of him too.
"He’s getting demanding again," Fenris said to Cormac.
"Mmm, so he is." Cormac stood and leaned just out of Artie’s reach. "What do you think, should we take our time and remind him who’s in charge, or do you just want to stop words from coming out of his delightful mouth?" He was utterly sure Artemis was going to start bouncing him off of trees, if he kept on like this, but he wasn’t sure he’d really mind it.
Fenris made a contemplative sound, leaning forward between Artemis’s legs, one arm draped across that taut abdomen, and the other hand supporting his face. He pressed a finger into the top of one hip, to toy with the edge of bone.
Taking a deep breath, Cormac called the Fade to himself, and ran one indigo hand up Artie’s chest, spread wide to ghost fingertips across both nipples. His hand lingered, fingertips sparking, at uneven intervals.
"Terrible teases, the both of you," Artemis said, and the breathy quality of his voice said that wasn’t a complaint, at least not yet. He bit his lip against a needy sound when Fenris’s finger slipped closer to his groin, just skirting the top of his knob before pulling away. Artie’s ankles twisted in their cuffs as he flexed his thighs, trying to arch into that touch. "Please," slipped from his mouth before he realised he’d opened it.
"Please?" Fenris hummed. "I am pleased. I like watching you squirm."
"Please," Artemis groaned. "Let me… More."
"Let you?" Cormac teased, dropping a stronger jolt. "Let you what? You’re still tied down. Not much you can do, from there." He winked at Fenris and tapped a spark against the metal of the belt, once the elf’s hand was out of the way.
"I can still throw you into that tree behind you," Artemis said, words ending in a gasp when Fenris stroked two fingers over his pelvic bone. "And please… Fenris… let me taste you." He could still taste Cormac on his tongue, and the thought of tasting them both, of being used by them both… it was almost enough to unravel him, even in the belt.
"Oh, I suppose you could," Cormac sighed, trailing his fingers down Artie’s chest as he switched sides with Fenris, each of them circling around opposite sides of the furniture. "But where would that leave you, hmm? Surely not with two of us enjoying you." His hands traced the edges of the belt, fingers testing the edges, dropping tiny sparks against the steel.