[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 286
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Artemis Hawke ♂, Fenris ♂, Cormac Hawke ♂, Isabela ♀, Zevran Arainai ♂
Rating: M (L2 N3 S2 V0 D1)
Warnings: Terrible jokes, the removal of a great deal of clothing
Notes: Isabela learns that one looks with one’s eyes and not with one’s hands. Fenris discovers Warden whiskey.
It didn’t take long for them to create a heap of bedding, and Anders pulled down a couple of tents to tie them to the trees, creating a decent sized room with a blanketed floor, a little bit back from the places anyone was likely to be walking.
"Fereldan ingenuity at its finest," Zevran said, kicking off his boots, at last, and spreading himself out, still clothed, on the blankets. "So, which one of you extremely attractive individuals is going to test my talents, first? I warn you, I am married to a Grey Warden. I have learnt to keep up."
"Literally no one is impressed," Fenris drawled, pointing at Anders, as he sat down with his back against a tree. "Have you brought cards? Perhaps we can play Diamondback, while they are otherwise occupied."
"Afraid I wasn’t expecting this." Anders shrugged, sitting back against the next tree over, as he fished a bottle out of his bag. "I did bring this!"
"By the Maker, don’t put that in your mouth!" Zevran groaned. "The Wardens are all mad, and the only way that would pass for whiskey is if you were stranded in the Deep Roads with no other alcohol, for months on end."
"Which is exactly what it’s for. That’s why it’s Warden whiskey." Anders laughed and took a swig, before offering the bottle to Fenris.
"I made that mistake exactly once," Cormac said, lowering himself down beside Zevran. "I am greatly fond of Wardens, but it would take an act of the gods to make me drink that again." He prodded Zevran. "I’ll be behind you. My brother’s rather particular about his delights."
"I don’t even get to look at you? Oh! Struck! Struck to the very soul!" Zevran complained. "Can you feel the very will bleeding out of me?"
"Don’t be dramatic," Isabela scoffed, unbuckling her boots. "He’s going to end up behind you. You can stare at him all you like until then. And I do advise staring, where he’s concerned. The Hawke ass is incomparable, on every Hawke but one, as far as I know. What is wrong with your little brother?"
"Which one?" Cormac asked with a smirk.
"The one who doesn’t have your gorgeous ass, obviously." Isabela rolled her eyes.
"Not in the habit of looking at my brothers’ asses," Cormac teased, knowing damn well she meant Carver.
"I keep insisting he’s adopted," Artemis answered instead. "Carver, that is. Sometimes, I think he looks at Cormac and wishes that were true." He grinned down at his brother before nudging his husband’s thigh with his toe. "Are you not joining us, love?" He batted his eyelashes at Fenris hopefully.
Fenris harrumphed but looked up Artemis’s long legs appraisingly. "I think I’d get in the way, at the moment," he replied. "But I’m sure the view will be entertaining." His lips didn’t tilt up, but his eyes still crinkled in a smile.
"Entertaining is certainly one word," said Zevran, one finger reaching up to trace Cormac’s tattoo, "but I’m sure you will find better ones later, assuming you can find any words at all by then."
Fenris sighed and took a drink from Anders’s bottle. He sputtered at the taste, ears sticking straight out, but swallowed it down. "Venhedis," he choked, staring at the bottle as though it had caused him personal harm. Anders didn’t quite bite back his snicker.
"I warned you," Zevran said.
Isabela threw a boot at his head. "Why are all of you still wearing clothes?"
"Patience, my dear," Zevran chuckled even as he reached for his baldric’s buckle. "A gift should be unwrapped with care, no?"
"I prefer to tear open my gifts," Fenris muttered, making Artemis blush and smirk.
Artemis settled down on the other side of Zevran, trying not to look at his brother.
Cormac wasn’t usually much for showing himself off — not least because he didn’t find himself that good to look at. He was him. Other people weren’t, therefore they were worth looking at, by virtue of him having a much better angle for it. He thought if he was one of them, he’d get sick of looking at them, too. Still, this seemed like the time and place for something a little out of the ordinary, and he stood up, after tugging off his boots and tossing them next to Anders.
"If you’re not going to play, just make sure wild nugs don’t eat my boots," Cormac said with a wink, before turning his attention back to Zevran. "So, why are you playing with your own buckles, instead of carefully unwrapping your gifts, hmm?" He leaned down nose to nose with Zevran, where the elf still sprawled on the ground. His hair caught up, after a moment, the oils that kept it sleek unsticking and letting a few finger-width locks fall forward.
"Will you look at that ass!" Isabela enthused, smirking at Fenris. "Assuming your Hawke’s is even half as shapely, I might start thinking you got the good one! Well, maybe not. Best of the brothers, maybe."
"Even more shapely than this," Fenris assured her, trying very hard to avoid looking at Cormac’s still-clothed, if brazenly-presented ass.
"Having had both asses in question very much in my personal space," Anders gestured suggestively with both hands, before picking up the bottle again and continuing, "I venture they are, in fact, almost the same ass. I would put forth that they are both actually the same ass, in two places at once, but I’ve managed to prove otherwise through intense study." His smile was wide and smug, before he interrupted it with the bottle.
"Oh, and he does mean that," Cormac assured Zevran, before bringing himself back to his full height, stretching upward, even as he looked down.
Zevran purred, eyeing the full length of Cormac’s — regrettably clothed — body. He rolled gracefully onto his knees and tugged at the hem of Cormac’s robes. "I look forward to doing some studying of my own," he said. "For purely scientific reasons, of course."
"Of course," said Anders with fake seriousness. He offered the bottle back to Fenris, shaking it under his nose. Fenris leaned away, face twisting in disgust, only to grudgingly take the bottle and another long drink. He looked no more pleased with his second sip.
Zevran trailed his hands up Cormac’s thighs through the cloth, tracing their shape. His hands slid up to the sash around Cormac’s waist, toying with the fabric before untying it and tossing it to the side.
Artemis forgot to pretend he wasn’t watching for a moment. The press of cold fingers against his stomach made him jump. He looked at Isabela.
"What?" she said innocently. "I’ve seen this show before. Well. Not this exact show, but different parts of it. Can I unwrap you?" Her grin was a shade too broad, and she waggled her eyebrows at him.
"Er…" Artemis looked at Fenris and Anders for help, but they seemed too amused to intervene. "I’d rather do my own unwrapping, but I appreciate the offer."
Isabela pouted until Artemis dropped his trousers on her head.
Cormac kept his eyes on Zevran, or he’d have noticed Isabela trying to manhandle Artemis. Still, he heard it happen. "Izzy, look with your eyes, not with your hands. You want to look with your hands, my ass is over here."
"Protective!" Zevran murmured. "And yet, you’ll still let this happen…"
"He can take care of himself, and very effectively, but stepping on the hospitality of the Hawkes comes with penalties from the rest of the family, too." Cormac rolled his shoulders, and the top layer of his robes slid down off his hands dropping to pool at his feet. "Do you really want Anton to hear you were trying to manhandle Artie, Izzy?"
Isabela scoffed. "What’s Anton going to do?"
"Considering he put me in a chastity belt over a minor disagreement, I’m not sure you want to discover the answer to that question," Cormac pointed out, just before Zevran slipped the second layer up over his head. He tossed his hair and smiled as Zevran investigated the cut of the third layer.
"So many layers of wrapping! This is either a marvellous gift or someone’s trying to hide some deficiency…" Zevran joked, one hand sliding up Cormac’s waist to cup the curve of his ribs.
"Well, I’m not Anders," Cormac replied, with a little shrug.
Anders groaned. "Can we leave me and my knob out of this?"
"Nope, sorry, not when my deficiencies are being brought into the conversation! Deficiency number one: not Anders. Very simple, that one. I lose points right off the top." Cormac’s grin was interrupted by the collar of the third layer catching on his nose, as Zevran twisted it up and off him. He finally stood in only a thin, long robe in a washed-out shade of saffron, that buckled across the tops of his feet, in the front. It was thin enough that his skin was obviously dark, beneath, and despite its loose fit, it concealed nearly nothing.
"Either this is a marvellous illusion or this is the last one," Zevran said, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. "This is a lovely colour for you, my friend. But do you know what would look better against your skin? Mine." He took his time with this layer, savouring the suspense.
Izzy, on the other hand, was busy wolf-whistling at Artemis. She was at least a foot away from touching range, but that gave her a better view. "Well, that looks promising," she said eyeing his smalls and what looked like another Hawke ass beneath them. She wore his pants around her shoulders like a trophy, and Artie’s tunic soon joined it.
Under his burning cheeks, Artie smirked, but he considered asking Anders for some of that whiskey. He wasn’t used to being this much on display while sober… at least not in front of Izzy. Or women in general.
Over Zevran’s head, Artemis caught Cormac’s eye, and his smirk widened. Standing in front of Fenris and Anders, Artie worked his smalls down his legs and kicked them off. They landed, for once, in Fenris’s lap instead of on his head.