[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 237
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂, Fenris ♂
Rating: E (L3 N4 S4 V0 D0)
Warnings: Hot Hawke-on-Hawke action
Notes: Artemis gets his happy ending. Again. Some more.
Artemis turned his head to kiss what he could reach of Fenris. He was content to lie there bonelessly for the moment anyway, though he was sure his neck would complain about it before long. "Good?" he asked Fenris softly, almost shyly.
Fenris chuckled breathlessly. "Good," he said, nuzzling at the corner of Artemis’s jaw. After a moment, he stretched to undo the cuffs around Artemis’s wrist.
"You might need to carry me, brother-dear," Artie groaned, stretching his legs and pointing his toes. "But yes and yes, Maker please." He didn’t want to see the mess he’d made of the belt and without being touched… that was the effect these two had on him.
Shrugging out of the first layer of his robes, Cormac spread it on the ground beside them. "Carry you? You say this like I didn’t mean to do exactly that!" He chuckled and gathered Artemis into his arms, pausing for a moment, just to hold his brother. Sometimes, he missed when things between them had been simple and stupid, but that was so many years gone, now, and this was definitely better than Artie having been weird for all those years in between. Kneeling, he laid Artemis gently onto his robe and leaned closer to unlock the belt.
Fenris watched, not quite willing to stumble to his feet, yet, if he didn’t have to. He’d let Cormac do the hard work.
The belt pulled away, Cormac easing his brother’s still-thick knob out of the tube that contained it —most of the mess stayed on the metal, thankfully; it would be easy enough to rinse. Lowering his head to that freshly-bared flesh, Cormac wrapped his mouth around the last inch of Artemis’s knob, flicking his tongue under the foreskin and sucking gently.
Artemis sucked in a breath, one hand twisting in the robe, sure to leave all manner of creases after. Even after all this time, he wondered if he would ever get used to seeing his brother between his legs, if he would ever stop feeling amazed. Or guilty, for ‘corrupting’ his brother.
Everything was easier a few minutes ago, when thinking wasn’t something he was capable of doing. But, easier or not, Artemis couldn’t complain about this moment either, not with how soft Cormac’s lips were on him. Artie reached down to brush the hair back from Cormac’s face, tucking the wayward strands behind his ears, and his thumbs lingered on his tattooed cheeks.
Artie turned his head to see how Fenris was doing, and smiled when he saw him. "Did we tire you out?" he teased, as though they hadn’t tired him out just as — if not more — thoroughly.
"I am just waiting for him to finish cleaning you off, so I can roll you over and finish the job." Fenris’s eyes sparkled with amusement, as he crawled closer, curling up around the top of Artemis’s head. "Perhaps, one of these days, we will need to choose a different piece of the garden, so we can both have you at once. I know how much you appreciate my tongue, and I’m learning that you appreciate his, as well."
Cormac purred around the flesh in his mouth, pressing his tongue against it, to pass the vibration. "I think we’re bright enough to figure it out without exciting furniture," he said, lifting his head. "Roll over on your side, Artie, and bend this leg. Knee up."
"Mm?" Artemis obeyed without asking, though the look on his face was question enough. That would involve the two of them being closer than either of them usually liked, but he certainly wasn’t about to dissuade them.
Fenris ran his hand through Artie’s sweat-curling hair, pausing to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose before crawling over next to Cormac, careful to keep as much distance between the two of them as possible. Fenris ran a hand along Artemis’s thigh and hip, pausing to squeeze at the taut ass on display for him.
"Turn the other way," Cormac told Fenris. "You’ll like me better if you do."
After a moment’s thought, Fenris realised Cormac was right, and that it would be easier for them not to collide but possibly forehead to chin, at that angle. Twisting himself around, Fenris rubbed his knee against the top of Artemis’s shoulder, before burying his face in the only example of Hawke ass he ever wanted to get this close to.
With a wicked smirk up at his brother, Cormac licked Artemis’s knob back into his mouth, gently sucking the flesh as it twitched against his tongue, considering whether it might rise again, to this provocation. He hummed contentedly, rippling his tongue against the underside of his brother’s knob, and nuzzled Artie’s belly.
Artemis stopped caring about the wrinkles he was making in Cormac’s robe, his knuckles white as he clutched the fabric. It was too much, but he wasn’t going to tell them to stop.
Fenris purred at his mage’s taste, at the tortured little sounds he was making that Fenris could now hear clearly. The edge of Cormac’s beard brushed his forehead, and Fenris tilted his head to avoid it. For a moment, he wondered what the bit of fluffiness felt like on Artemis’s end, if it felt like anything at all, but he didn’t let the thought linger.
Purring and humming, Cormac kept his tongue tight against Artemis’s knob, judging the vibrations by how they felt against the roof of his mouth. He moaned warmly at the faint twitches he got in response, as he listened to the sounds his brother made. This was something Cormac had needed — just to have the time to taste, to run his hands over Artemis’s skin — to be able to devote his attention entirely to worshipping Artemis’s flesh. Not that he didn’t figure Fenris did it on a regular basis, but he needed it for himself, to know that he could give this, that it would be welcome, that it would be wanted. That everything between them wouldn’t always be pain and blood, dominance and strangulation — which was great, but this was his brother. And still, that affected every word, every touch, between them.
Artie’s head was still wonderfully fuzzy in the afterglow, and the contrast between tongues was enough to keep him from thinking of any words that weren’t Fenris or Cormac’s names or pleas for mercy. ‘Too much’ sensation became pleasant became an ache, sparks shivering down his spine all the while.
Fenris pulled back for air and to rest his tongue, mouthing instead at the hole in front of him, fingers gentle on Artemis’s skin. He couldn’t see what Cormac was up to from his angle, but he could sense the man’s movements, could tell when he was doing something Artemis particularly liked by the way his mage’s muscles clenched and by the sounds spilling from his throat. Fenris planned to take credit for a few of those sounds, his touch just as gentle, as reverent as Cormac’s. It was the sort of touch Artemis craved after their rougher lovemaking, and Fenris found himself looking forward to moments like these.
After several more minutes of the same, Cormac slid his lips slowly off his brother’s still-soft flesh, pausing for a moment to tease the tip with his tongue, before he let go. He kissed his way up Artemis’s body, keeping himself far enough back not to surprise Fenris with any unexpected body parts, and finally pressed his lips to Artemis’s, swallowing the next few sounds. "I adore you, my beloved god, but my tongue is killing me," he apologised, with a chuckle. "Credit to your elf, and his incredible Tevinter talents."
Artemis hummed and nuzzled under Cormac’s chin. He could feel Fenris’s lips curl in a smile, no doubt a smug one, and Fenris pulled back after giving Artie’s entrance one last kiss. "I didn’t acquire those talents in Tevinter," he said before running hands and lips up Artemis’s back, lingering at his nape, in an echo of what Cormac had just done. Artemis smiled lazily and tried to pull them both close now that he could reach them.
"Tongue fortitude not part of your extensive bodyguard training? Not doing push-ups with your tongue to prove your strength?" Cormac laughed again. "Maybe I can learn to keep up, after all."
"With the rate at which words exit your mouth, I’d have expected your tongue to be better accustomed to hard work," Fenris drawled, his face pressed close against the back of Artemis’s shoulder.
"Now, now, boys," Artemis murmured against Cormac’s throat. "I happen to approve of both tongues and their application. It’s as much about teamwork as practice."
Fenris snorted against Artemis’s neck, wrapping his arm more tightly around him, hooking a leg over Artie’s shins. He was more off of Cormac’s robes than not. "It’s getting dark," he pointed out. "And we haven’t lit the torches." He suspected one of the mages could do so without getting up, but this garden had already suffered one fire.
"Do we need the light, or are we showing off for the neighbours?" Cormac asked, squinting into the increasing dimness, until he spotted a nearby torch. The ones he could see definitely looked like they were designed to highlight the garden furniture, when lit.
"I believe the wall is high enough to discourage the neighbours," Fenris pointed out. "And we have trees."
"If I can hit a dragon in the eye," Cormac muttered, flicking a hand toward a torch. It lit, and the nearby tree did not. He lit two more and then groaned and cupped his brother’s cheek. "Can I stay right here, for a while? I’m feeling terribly lazy, today."
Artie hummed sleepily. "Why not? You two make a nice blanket."
Fenris sighed but supposed he could share his mage for a little while longer.