[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 242
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Anton Hawke ♂, Cullen ♂, Bethany Hawke ♀, Carver Hawke ♂
Rating: E (L2 N4 S4 V0 D1)
Warnings: OH MY GOD ANTON, fun with turnips, more fun with artificial dragon appendages
Notes: Anton proves there’s at least one dragon he can fit between his thighs.
Cullen nipped at Anton’s earlobe in reply, reaching under Anton and the pillow himself. He fumbled a bit before grasping… something. His fingers folded around what he assumed was a hilt, though that didn’t feel like leather. He sighed in Anton’s ear. "Love, please don’t put daggers where one of us is likely to cut ourselves in our sleep." He pulled the object out from under the pillow. He blinked, sat up to peer at it better. "…that is not a dagger."
Anton twisted back to see what Cullen was gaping at. "Oh, that’s right!" He took the dildo from Cullen’s lax grip. "Forgot I put that there." He waved it in Cullen’s face, grinning. "I believe you’ve already met."
"That was… dragon… you kept it?"
"It was a gift! The sort of thing you put on the mantelpiece to give the right impression to the wrong sort of company." Anton nodded and grinned. "And maybe I wanted to prove once and for all that my thighs would fit around a dragon. A little of that page six we’re both pretending we didn’t read…"
Cullen turned a brilliant shade of red. "You— you expect me to— to— use this? On you? Anton, that’s — It’s got ridges, for Andraste’s sake!"
"Isabela says the ridges are a good idea. Anders agrees with her. I don’t know if I trust either of them, but I’m a little curious." Propping himself up on his elbow, Anton nibbled at Cullen’s shoulder. "And I trust you enough to put that in me."
"Do I want to know why you were discussing ridges with Anders?" Isabela was a given. It wasn’t like it would have been possible to keep her from saying something on the subject.
"Izzy brought it up in front of him. He just pointed and nodded, while she talked." Anton shrugged. "It’s not like I asked either of them, really. Well, no, I asked Izzy, but not about that. I asked her why she’d given me that thing, which she still insists she didn’t, and she gave me the very very extended list of reasons why someone might have."
"Was the list longer than this thing?" Cullen asked, with a gesture at the dildo.
"By quite a bit. Apparently, she has one. Yet another thing she couldn’t talk my brother into, for which I am eternally grateful." Anton shook his head. "But, she talked me into it. Just not with her."
"This is…" Cullen shook his head, looking more dazed than horrified now, but his face still a vibrant red. "You realise this just makes me wonder about your infatuation with dragons now."
"Please," Anton huffed. "It’s just a toy. It’s not like I would actually ‘wrap my thighs’ around a real dragon."
Cullen gave him a dubious look.
"What? I wouldn’t!"
Cullen shook his head and chuckled, leaning in to kiss Anton’s nose. "All right. Give me the damned thing." He took back the dildo and tried not to eye it distrustfully.
Anton chuffed. "It won’t bite you. That’s not the part of the dragon that bites. Or breathes fire." At least, he hoped. He’d never been close enough to a drake to find out.
"Yes, I know that," Cullen said, a bit of a stutter sneaking into his voice as he stretched an arm out, rooting around in the end table drawer.
Anton propped his cheek on his fist and grinned at his husband. "You’ve never used one of these before, have you?"
"An imitation dragon’s penis? No, I can’t say I have," Cullen drawled with remarkable poise, as he came up with the bottle he was looking for.
"A dildo of any sort." Anton pinched his husband’s thigh.
The flush on Cullen’s cheeks deepened, as he attempted to figure out how to oil the thing, without pouring oil all over the bed.
"Oh? Have you? That looks like a story." Anton lowered himself to the bed, again, leaning in to nibble at Cullen’s ass, which got him a sharp flick on the ear.
"Not… technically, no." Cullen shifted to hold the dildo between his thighs as he poured oil into his hand and set the bottle aside.
"Not technically?" Anton bit harder and Cullen squeaked.
"It was a turnip, all right?" The flush was such a deep red that Anton wondered how long Cullen would remain conscious. He was starting to look a little whiffy. "After we— Before you— I was thinking about you the whole time, all right?"
Anton’s eyes glazed as he pictured that, and then he rolled onto his back, cackling like a loon. "Was it a Fereldan turnip?" he asked, voice strained and shaking with laughter. "And here I thought you would have preferred a horseradish."
Cullen swatted Anton’s thigh with one oil-wet hand. "I considered it, but I didn’t want to betray the other horseradish in my life." He narrowed his eyes and shook the dildo at Anton. "Keep laughing at me, and I might ask Bodhan if we have any turnips and have that for dessert instead." His face crinkled. "Metaphorically. That would be a terrible actual dessert."
"I’m not laughing," Anton said innocently, lips pursed with the effort. "Not even slightly. In fact, I find the image rather inspiring. Though far be it from me to keep you from your turnip." Anton sidled closer as he spoke, trying to pull Cullen close with one leg hooked over both of his.
"You— you really want me to… With this?" Cullen asked again, all thoughts of turnips brushed aside as he noticed what he held in his hand.
"You slew my dragon. Now you get to make it up to me." Anton’s grin seemed entirely self-satisfied, but that wasn’t so unusual.
"You’re lucky I love you…" Cullen sighed, eyes moving slowly down the length of Anton’s body, considering how this would be most effective.
"I am so lucky you love me," Anton agreed, without even a second thought, rolling onto his back and lifting his knees, invitingly.
Cullen failed to look impressed by this proposal that seemed to leave his sword wanting.
"You must be getting tired. I’d have thought you’d figure this one out without my help," Anton teased, pinching Cullen’s thigh again.
Shifting to place himself between Anton’s legs, Cullen genuinely hoped Anton wasn’t so drunk as to take his pleasure and pass out immediately. He might not be above scrounging a turnip — or perhaps something a little less frightening from the bedside cabinet — in that event.
"Knees up here, Captain." Anton pointed to the sides of his face. "Did you think I’d expect you to do all the work for nothing?"
"Well, I didn’t expect you to keep this either, but I’ve been wrong before," Cullen teased, holding up the dildo before obeying his husband, shuffling his knees until they flanked Anton’s head. Cullen peered between his legs at Anton’s grinning face.
"I’ve missed you," Anton said, and Cullen wasn’t sure if that was directed at him or his knob. He supposed he’d taken either.
Stretching forward and bracing himself on one arm, Cullen considered… things… from this angle. Not that he hadn’t seen this particular view at this particular angle before, but not while… he was so armed.
Wet lips and a tongue interrupted Cullen’s concentration, and he squeaked, thighs jumping.
"Just pretend it’s your knob," Anton said, one hand stroking Cullen’s side. "You know. If your knob had ridges." Anton punctuated this with a kiss to Cullen’s ridge-free knob.
"Oh, ha ha," Cullen said. He ran the oiled dildo teasingly down Anton’s knob, watching his husband’s stomach muscles twitch.
"You tasted the dragon’s heart, didn’t you? I think we still have some of it frozen in the cellar." Another benefit to mages in the family — food almost never turned. "Doesn’t that make you part dragon, now? I heard eating raw dragon heart changes a man. Gives weird powers and stuff. Means I’ll always be able to fit at least one dragon between my thighs. Not sure how I’d feel if it changed you like that, though, tempting as it sounds."
Cullen continued to tease with the dildo, as he slipped two fingers into Anton, feeling the accompanying gasp against his skin. "Don’t even joke, Anton. I am not turning into a dragon for your deranged pleasures."
"Well, not a whole dragon. And you wouldn’t be a real dragon, anyway, you’d still be you. A real dragon— no. I— no." Anton laughed, breath making Cullen squirm.
"That’s a relief. My husband isn’t interested in real dragons, just artificial ones. Just turning me into half a dragon, so he can have his depraved way with me." Cullen shook his head and crooked his fingers. "Maker, Anton, you have no shame."
Anton gasped and squirmed as those fingers pressed into him in new ways. "Weren’t you the one who decided we shouldn’t have secrets?"
Cullen turned his head to nip one taut thigh. "These weren’t the kinds of secrets I was expecting. Do you have anything else under your pillow I should be concerned about?" This last word rose in pitch as Anton wrapped his lips around the tip of Cullen’s knob. Anton took a moment just to taste, humming deep in his throat, and Cullen choked off a soft sound at the slide of Anton’s tongue.
Anton let Cullen slide out of his mouth with one last lick. "Perhaps you should check for turnips."
Cullen choked a laugh, glad Anton couldn’t see him blush from this angle. He twisted his fingers in punishment and grinned at the warm sounds they inspired. He stroked Anton’s insides some more while Anton’s hands kneaded his thighs and rump, waiting until Anton begged for more to pull his fingers free.
Cullen nuzzled the knob in front of his face. "Ready, love?" He heard and felt Anton’s breath quicken at the question.
"Very," Anton purred. "Come on, Dragonslayer."
With a slow and uncertain breath, Cullen pressed the tip of the oddly-shaped stone into Anton. The reaction was immediate, Anton’s hands tightening against his thighs, a low moan reverberating through his knob, where Anton’s lips wrapped around it. His own hips twitched, and Anton pulled him down, tongue flicking against his knob. As Anton’s hips tipped up, chasing more of the slick stone, Cullen slipped it in, slowly, watching the ridges vanish into his husband’s body. For all that he wanted to be disgusted, it was an inspiring sight. Or maybe that was just the echo in his bones from when Anton swallowed around him. Either way, his reservations began to leave him, as Anton pressed back against the dildo with almost enough force to twist it out of his hand.
The sounds Anton made were muffled by Cullen’s knob, but they were still definitely pleasured sounds, pleased sounds, as he tipped his head back and leaned up for more. Cullen’s hips began to rock, but they stayed high, letting Anton control how deep he could get.
"Maker, Anton," Cullen breathed. Even after all these years, Cullen hadn’t yet figured out what he’d done to deserve this man, dragon-related deviances and all. Anton purred around him in answer, and Cullen just focused on keeping up with him, on matching the rhythm of his hips with the slide of the toy. He shifted his grip, and the change in angle made Anton’s hips shiver.
"Anton," Cullen sighed. "Anton."
It took him a moment to realise that the answering name wasn’t his. Or from Anton.
"What? I wasn’t doing anything!"
Cullen stilled. That had been right outside their door. Carver was standing right outside their door. Carver was standing right outside their door while Cullen worked his brother’s ass with a dragon dildo. Maker.
"You were thinking it!" Anton recognised his sister’s voice, and Cullen’s knob stifled his chuckle.
"I just wanted to ask Anton—"
"Do not open that door! Ser Cullen was lowing like a stabbed ox, not five minutes ago, and you do not want to know why!"
Anton choked and Cullen buried his face in Anton’s crotch with a horrified groan, his cheeks flushing at the thought of Bethany having heard any of this. "Anton," he whispered, lifting his hips, "I don’t sound like an ox, do I?"
As soon as his mouth was free, Anton answered that question loud enough for his brother to hear, at least, and possibly his sister as well, voice still thick with spit. "Dragon noises! He was making dragon noises!"
Cullen’s hips dropped as he tried to shut Anton up again, pressing his knob against Anton’s face as the man cackled beneath him.
"Anton, I have heard dragons. I have fought dragons. I have also heard an awful lot of oxen in an awful lot of conditions, and that was not a dragon noise. That was the sound of an ox being stabbed, or potentially stabbed." Bethany shouted back. "He still sounds better than Cormac!"
"Oh, Andraste’s blazing, punctured heart on a stick! Enough! From all of you!" Carver howled, and the dog sang along. "I’m going to the pub, so I can drink until I’ve completely forgotten this entire conversation!"
"I wish I could forget this entire conversation," Cullen groaned, ducking his head against Anton’s leg. The bed shook with Anton’s laughter.
"Really. Carver should know to knock by now," Anton said. "Especially after last time. I thought we’d frightened him off for good with that."
Cullen tried to burrow deeper against the inside of Anton’s thigh. "Thank you. Another memory I’d rather not have. The… Carver-walking-in part. The rest was pretty fantastic as far as memories go."
Anton pinched Cullen’s rump, grinned at the way his muscles jumped under his hand. "But weren’t we in the middle of making another ‘pretty fantastic’ memory?"
"We were," Cullen said, kissing the skin in front of his face. He stoppered any ‘ox-noises’ as they built up from his chest, but Anton was merciless, applying his mouth in ways that definitely resulted in whimpering and heavy breathing, as Cullen tried not to moan. Chewing his lip, Cullen thrust the dildo in harder, every time he thought he might, and Anton’s mouth, Anton’s stifled moans as they reverberated through his flesh, worked him into a rhythm.
Anton’s hips rolled, grinding him down onto the fake dragon inside him. He was definitely starting to understand what Izzy meant about the ridges. It felt incredible, and any concerns he might have had about his younger siblings listening in vanished into nothingness, as Cullen’s tongue dragged over his knob.
The sensation of Anton sucking, warm fluids rising around Cullen’s knob, and then Anton’s fingers stroking across his wet skin, were the only warning Cullen had before those fingers plunged into him. This time, Cullen might have been willing to admit the sound he made was ox-like, but he was trying very hard not to think about that, driving the dildo into Anton in the same rhythm Anton’s fingers worked inside him.
But Anton’s fingers twisted, and Cullen’s rhythm stuttered. It took all his focus to keep his hips still, to keep from driving into that wicked mouth. Anton felt the shift, felt Cullen’s muscles tremble and bunch under his free hand, and Anton stretched up to pull Cullen deeper, letting the desperate sounds in the back of his throat speak for him.
Upstairs, Bethany turned the page, shaking her head at the sounds that echoed up to her. "And he complains about Cormac," she said to Mintaka, switching her quill to her other hand to scratch behind his ear. Mintaka dropped his head into Bethany’s lap, whole body heaving with a sigh.
At last, Anton and Cullen laid panting against each other’s sides, each damp, but satisfied, and far too exhausted to move far. "We’re laying on the blanket," Anton pointed out, and Cullen groaned against his thigh, reaching across them both to tug at the other side of the blanket, the part they weren’t laying on.
"Your leg is pillow enough for me," Cullen muttered as he dragged the far corner of the blanket across their ribs and hips. "Good?"
"Amazing. You keep on like that and I might forgive you for slaying that dragon instead of bringing it home," Anton purred, squeezing Cullen’s bottom.
"Am I dragon enough for you, then?" Cullen joked, nipping at Anton’s thigh.
"Mm, with a little help from your new sword," Anton teased, nudging the dildo with his knee. "My sexy drake."
Cullen managed to cringe and laugh at the same time. "Please don’t call me that."
Anton hummed contentedly, stretching his toes. "I’m sure my brother will call you worse things later."
That didn’t stop Cullen from cringing, but he was too wrung-out, limbs too loose for him to care. "Poor sod," he mumbled, eyes drifting shut. "But, Anton?"
"Maybe we should get a lock on that door just in case."