[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 263
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Anders ♂, Fenris ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂
Rating: E (L3 N4 S4 V0 D1)
Warnings: The internet is for porn, a lot of licking, Anders sandwich
Notes: Clothing is somewhat complicated, then Anders makes himself useful.
"So, uh." Artie tugged at his ear again. "How do we do this?"
"However you like, is my first suggestion, but if you’re really going to leave it up to me, I’m going to take advantage of that fact at least once." Anders tossed a bottle in Fenris’s direction, and the elf reflexively caught it. "I was expecting to pour that down Cormac, tonight, but it seems I have other plans. The problem I foresee, here, is that neither of you can keep up with me, consistently. That’s going to be less of a problem, of course, if we put Artie in the middle and you drink that potion. But, I still want the middle, first, because I would really enjoy it if Justice would knock off the rambling about how much he’d like to lick you, Fenris, and if I get you in my mouth for a bit, that will probably stop, and I can get on with the rest of my evening."
Fenris blinked and then blinked again, eyes shifting to Artemis. "You wish to … taste me, to quiet your … spirit. And you want him to…?"
"I’ve wanted him to for years, now," Anders laughed.
Artemis only looked marginally less surprised than Fenris. "Sure," he said, shrugging one shoulder at his husband. "I mean, I haven’t… in a while, but why not?" And really, the image of Anders on his knees, tongue wrapped around Fenris’s glowstick, was one that he would like to see. Again.
Fenris quirked an eyebrow at his husband, not expecting him to agree so readily. He and Artemis always did things… a certain way, a way that Artemis seemed to enjoy, seemed to prefer, but sometimes he wondered. Brows knit, Fenris drank the potion without a second thought.
"Now, as for the rest of ‘how do we do this?'" Anders continued. "In my experience, there is usually quite a bit less clothing involved." He arched his eyebrows higher.
Artemis huffed, but something eased in the set of his shoulders. "This from the mage who has fifty layers between the world and his crotch?" he said, reaching Anders’s belt rather than his own.
Anders glanced at Fenris apologetically. "I’d help with your extremely distracting leather, but I’d like my fingers to stay attached to my body."
"As we are all working toward the same goal, which will put much less incidental parts of both of us in contact, it would be in my best interest to spare your fingers, if you wished to help." Fenris’s fingers darted across his own clothing. "But, I believe it would be unfair not to warn you that I am much more efficient alone." He twisted in a completely improbable fashion, and with a wet peeling sound, the nearly skin-tight shirt came off. "I dress simply," he teased, picking at the complicated knots that held his trousers on.
"No, Cormac dresses simply. Boots and a robe." Anders leaned in closer to Artemis’s ear as he took off his bag and shrugged out of his coat. "I don’t need to take anything off him. I can have him almost anywhere." Which was, he reflected, one of the more useful things he’d learnt in Kinloch Hold. Though he might have been better served by figuring out how to get other people to be as quiet as he was, which hadn’t been much of an issue in the tower. He did have to take some care with where he decided to enjoy Cormac’s charms.
"Robes do have their uses," Artemis agreed with a conspiratorial grin. He reached under Anders’s long shirt to trace a finger along the waistband of his pants. As he pulled at the laces, he watched Fenris out of the corner of his eye. "Then again, so do tight leather pants."
Anders couldn’t deny that as he followed Artie’s glance and watched Fenris shimmy the leather past his hips. "You may have a point." He tugged at the hem of Artie’s tunic, and Artie let go of Anders’s pants long enough to let Anders pull it up over his head. Anders was about to toss it to some corner of the room, when Artie sucked in a breath. "Would you like to fold it?" he asked instead, and that, more than anything, transported Anders back to when it had just been him and Artemis — and occasionally Cormac — in his bed.
"Yes, please," Artemis said with a pained smile, taking the tunic back from Anders.
Anders worked on his own clothes, noticing that in the time it had taken the two of them to get shirtless, Fenris had completely stripped, and was watching them, patiently, one eyebrow arched. "You could stand there and look smug, or you could come help us get naked faster."
Clothing, dressing, undressing… A ghost of something flickered through the back of Fenris’s mind, vaguely unsettling, but uncertain, and he pushed it away, before stepping closer to take hold of Artemis’s trousers, from behind, loosening them as Anders pulled off his own boots, hooking his coat over them to keep the feathers off the floor.
"You’re still dressed," Fenris pointed out, as he crouched behind Artemis, trying to get him out of the pants without tripping him.
Anders stepped out of his own trousers and kicked them under the tail of his coat. "No, I’m not."
"The first time I’ve seen a man with fabric for skin," Fenris teased, thinking the shirt was so thin Anders might just have gotten distracted from it. Anders was distractable, when he wasn’t ranting, and Artemis posed an exceptional distraction.
Folding his trousers, Artemis eyed Fenris and Anders. Had Fenris ever seen Anders’s scars? Artie racked his brain, but most of his memories of the two of them naked or close to naked were a drunken blur. It was a lovely reminder why Artie tried not to drink so much any more… usually.
Anders’s shoulders were stiff despite his carefree smile, but he spoke before Artie could say something. "And you want to see what’s underneath my skin? Kinky, Fenris. I thought you only liked to touch those parts." But as he spoke, he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. He busied himself with folding it, partly for Artie’s sake and partly so Fenris could take a moment to compose his reaction.
Except that Fenris’s expression stayed carefully neutral the whole time. He knew the scars were there. He’d seen their shapes that day in the pond, but he doubted Anders realised that. Without the fabric in the way, however, they were starker, some more ragged, like the impossible scar in the middle of Anders’s chest.
"There," Artemis said. "All of us considerably less clothed, as requested."
Anders sank to his knees, where he stood, licking his lips. "I’d say we should do this on the bed, but you’re much too short, and I’d really rather not accidentally knock you over," he said to Fenris, hand drifting down to his own knob, where the scars lined up as he stroked, although not as obviously as they would, once he convinced the flagpole to take an interest in the situation.
That finally got a reaction, and Fenris’s lips twitched with a question he wouldn’t ask, eyes lingering on the scar on Anders’s hand that he’d seen a thousand times and never paid any mind. Whatever had happened, it hadn’t been an accident. "My balance is excellent," he said eyes flicking up to indicate some concern for Artemis.
"I’d really rather not have this wind up like that time I ended up with a broken elbow and a loose tooth," Anders said, leaning slowly forward and stretching, until he could reach Artemis’s ankle with his tongue, revealing a back even more scarred than his chest. "So, grab a pillow, if you’re worried about someone’s knees." He licked his way up Artemis’s leg, kissing and nibbling, until he could bury his nose between Artie’s balls and thigh.
Artie reached down to pet Anders’s hair, combing his fingers through the strands and tugging gently until they came free of the half ponytail and spilled down over Anders’s cheeks. Anders smiled, his stubble scraping against Artie’s skin.
Keeping an eye on the pair, Fenris obeyed Anders’s instructions and grabbed a pillow from the bed. They had a rug by the bed, but Fenris knew from experience that kneeling on it left odd indentations on his knees. Fenris watched Artemis’s breathing pick up, watched the flush rise to his cheeks. He knew exactly how Anders’s mouth felt, and his ears twitched at the memory.
Anders’s tongue traced along the trails of Artemis’s pulse in his thigh, teasing and tempting. His knees parted and his ass tipped up, again, as he worked his way back down. Finally, he looked up, lifting himself just enough to see Artemis’s face, as he tipped his head back, flicking his tongue against the tip of Artemis’s knob.
Dropping the pillow behind Anders, a sound just loud enough to cause a sudden tension in the back of Anders’s neck, Fenris joined the two already engaged. "I thought I was the one you wanted to taste," Fenris teased, arms wrapping around Artemis from behind, one finger lazily toying with a nipple.
"Oh, I do. I just wanted to make sure Artemis would be ready for us. I’ve heard I’m quite an experience." Anders smiled up a little too sweetly, golden eyes reflecting the firelight. "Do you want me?"
"Maker, yes," Artemis groaned. "Do you even have to ask?" He tucked a strand of hair behind Anders’s ear and took a moment to marvel at the changes the years had wrought on Anders’s face, the lines that hadn’t been there the first time Artie had joined him in the estate’s cellar. He turned in Fenris’s arms, pressed a kiss to his lips and pulled away, slipping out from between the two of them.
The air felt cold against Fenris where Artie had been, but Anders moved in to warm him up. He stroked his hands up Fenris’s thighs, getting the elf used to his touch. Justice practically salivated at the lyrium-etched knob right in front of his face, but Anders swatted him back.
Artemis knelt behind Anders, settling on the pillow and shifting his knees until they sat right. "Can’t complain about the view," he teased, resting a hand on Anders’s hip before giving his ass a squeeze.
Anders laughed a bit nervously and lowered his hips a little, to right about where everyone actually needed them to be. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to fuck someone his own height, but the likelihood of that was poor, since he wasn’t interested in Qunari, and most of them were taller than him, anyway. Midget Qunari, he decided. Midget Qunari and giant mountain savages. Maybe he’d just stick with Hawkes.
A hint of current ran through his hands, as he curled his fingers around Fenris’s hips, and there was a sudden, tiny hiss of surprise from above him. He licked his lips and looked up at Fenris. "And you? Do you want me?"
Fenris’s hand slid into Anders’s hair, slowly tightening into a firm grip. "Suck, mage," he commanded, before remembering he wasn’t talking to Artemis, and that might not be the correct approach. Embarrassment flashed across his face, and Anders looked shocked for a split second, before his lips parted around the lyrium-lined flesh before him.
Fenris sucked in a breath at the heat that licked over him. He forced his hand to loosen its grip and cradled the back of Anders’s head instead. Keeping his hips still, he let Anders choose the pace, and it was jarring to notice all the little ways in which this was different from what he was used to, all the ways in which he had come to anticipate Artemis and his desires.
Justice, however, hummed in approval, and Anders closed his eyes against the blue that lit them. Behind him, Artemis rubbed his back, his thighs, fingertips sparking against his skin until they settled on the globes of his ass. A thumb teased at Anders’s entrance, and he tried to cant his hips in invitation in a way that wouldn’t make the angle awkward.
"Um, Anders?" Artie murmured. He watched Anders’s head move over Fenris’s knob as though hypnotized. "I hate to interrupt, but. Well. Grease? That is, I can cast it, but… I know you can…" He gestured vaguely with one hand, knowing Anders would know what he meant even if he couldn’t see it.
Anders huffed around Fenris’s knob and pulled off with a long lick. "Have I not taught you that trick yet?" he asked over his shoulder, his hand replacing his mouth on Fenris.
"Not yet," Artie answered with a sheepish smile. With one finger, he traced a line of sparks up Anders’s spine.
"With your aim, that might have been a wise decision on my part," Anders decided, after a moment’s reflection. His eyes drifted shut for a moment, and then refocused on Artemis. "Try that. If you need more, tell me." He wrapped his lips around Fenris again, feeling the lyrium against his tongue and Justice coiling around the sensation.