[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 287
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Artemis Hawke ♂, Fenris ♂, Cormac Hawke ♂, Isabela ♀, Zevran Arainai ♂
Rating: M (L2 N3 S2 V1 D1)
Warnings: Kink negotiation, consensual violence, strong warnings against non-consensual violence
Notes: A great lot of negotiating and awkwardness.
Cormac raised his eyebrows at his brother, just a quick twitch. His eyes dropped back to Zevran’s face, and he attempted to look as enthused as he should have been. A legendary Antivan Crow wanted to get him naked! Of course, this legendary Crow was also kind of elfy, small, and his cousin’s husband. But, Artemis had asked for more difficult things, over the years, and even if he hadn’t quite asked for this he’d looked relatively enthused, at the offer, so Cormac tried to find the whole affair similarly pleasing.
"You don’t looked entirely thrilled," Zevran pointed out. "Something not to your liking?"
"What?" Cormac blinked, panicky for a moment. "No, no, ah… That— that’s just my brother. It’s a little awkward. We’re usually a lot less sober for things like this."
"The Warden is carrying potent, if barely potable, alcohol, as usual, if you feel the need to become spectacularly drunk, before undertaking this. Although, personally, I prefer to take my pleasures sober." Zevran grinned, caressing the robe over Cormac’s chest, feeling the soft depth of the fluff beneath. "Of course, I also do not have any siblings. That may be of some assistance in that matter."
"Oh, it might take a little bit of effort to get us going, but we’re worth it." Cormac reached up and slid his fingers into the back of Zevran’s hair, curling them against his scalp. "Did you say something about manhandling?"
"Indeed," Zevran purred. "I do enjoy a good manhandling." His hand slid down to curve around the dip of Cormac’s waist.
Izzy’s applause echoed around them, and Zevran cast a curious glance over his shoulder. Ah. The other Hawke. "So it’s true!" Isabela exclaimed, looking terribly pleased with herself.
"Yes, yes," Artemis sighed, the blush spreading up to his ears and down his chest. "The Hawke ass reigns supreme."
"Cheers to that," Anders said, raising the bottle. Fenris had hooked Artie’s smalls around the neck.
Isabela let out a deep sigh, her ample chest heaving dramatically. "And I still can’t touch?"
"Sorry, no," said Artie, looking the opposite of sorry.
"Not even a little?"
"No. But there are plenty of other men within pinching distance who would, I’m sure, be more than happy to be so pinched by you."
"Mm, pinching and manhandling," Zevran purred. "Did Wintersend come early?"
Cormac winked at Zevran and then jerked him aside, by his hair, to clear the path for Isabela. "Andraste’s tits and bits, Izzy, I’m standing right here!"
"But, all the mystery is gone," Isabela said, sadly. "I know every little thing about you, mage-shoulders."
"And if you keep your eyes on him and your hands on me, you’ll learn a whole lot more about him, without getting smacked into any trees, along the way," Cormac pointed out, tugging a couple times on Zevran’s hair, as warning, before yanking him to his knees. "I still have clothes on," Cormac noted, leaning down to rest his forehead against Zevran’s. "Why do I still have clothes on?"
"No doubt because I wasn’t in a good position to enjoy a long, slow revelation of the skin, beneath. Perhaps because I’d rather be wearing less, so I can enjoy it all the more." Zevran’s eyes sparkled, even if his smile was a bit more subtle than it had been.
"Turn around and face my brother. Let’s see what kind of show you can put on for us." Cormac’s fingers trailed along the underside of Zevran’s jaw, as he straightened back up, shooting a longing glance at Anders.
"You are thinking," Zevran said, as he turned, still on his knees, and stretched one leg before him to unfasten the buckles along it, "there is not enough of me to keep the two of you from touching. There is definitely enough of Anders. But, maybe you should try touching. Nothing serious. Nothing important, but just a little bit. For the frisson. I’m told there is a certain spark in doing things just a little bit wrong. Of course," his hands wandered up to loosen the leather on his chest, "I have no siblings, so what do I know?"
Fenris managed to not choke on the whiskey, but it was a near thing. He wiped the back of his hand along his chin, catching the whiskey that had dribbled down it, and managed not to make eye-contact with Anders.
Zevran looked up at him, hands still moving over his fastenings. "Or is that too debauched for our audience?" he teased.
Instead of reaching for a reply, Fenris reached for more whiskey.
"Oh, please," said Isabela, saving him from answering. "You should have been there when we played Spin-the-Bottle, Zev. There was some lovely Hawke-on-Hawke ‘frisson’ there. Or was it friction?"
Artemis held up one finger and controlled his sputtering enough to say, "That was the game, and we were trying to gross out Anton." He held up a second finger next to the first. "There was alcohol." His fingers twisted in his hair again, and that whiskey in Fenris’s hand was looking more and more tempting.
"There’s alcohol right here," Anders reminded him, taking the bottle back.
Fenris cut him a warning look, and Anders wondered if he had missed something. "Don’t."
Then again, drunk Hawkes would likely end in disaster, anyway.
"But to the point," Artemis said, folding his arms across his chest. "I have no problem touching my brother. In a… non-sexual way." That wasn’t exactly a lie, but it might have come out a bit defensive anyway.
"He’s got less and less of a problem with that, the drunker he gets," Cormac said, with the sudden realisation the only person who hadn’t been at that party was Zevran. "So, let’s not pour more booze on this situation than necessary. I’d rather any sudden and inexplicable hands not be the result of getting mistaken for someone else."
"I think we should get him shitfaced!" Isabela announced. "I’d love to get mistaken for someone else!"
Fenris rubbed at his face in annoyance. "Come here. The view is better from where I’m sitting."
"You know, Broody, from anyone else, I might take that as a come-on." Isabela grinned at Fenris, not moving an inch.
"As delightful as I might find your posterior under other circumstances, it is currently blocking my excellent view, which I protest is still much better than yours." Fenris snatched the bottle back from Anders. "And we have other amenities, as well."
"Terrible whiskey and devoted non-party people! That sounds like a great time!" Isabela put on the most ridiculous grin she could manage. "But, you are holding the only alcohol for miles in any direction, and I suppose you did just invite me to sit in your lap…" She looked contemplative. "If you put up a running commentary in Tevene, I’ll move."
Fenris’s ears twitched, and he shot a look at Anders. "What if he gives you a running commentary in Tevene, and I just correct him when he’s an idiot?"
"Ooh! You’ll both say dirty words in foreign languages? Here, bend your leg out, so I don’t break your knee!" Isabela looked entirely too pleased with herself. The last Hawke ass and an invitation to sit in Fenris’s lap and listen to dirty Tevinter words. And nobody was even drunk, yet.
"Oh?" said Zevran, slithering out of his armour and revealing tanned, long limbs. "Anders, I did not know you could talk dirty in Tevene! All these years, and I did not know. I feel I have been cheated!" He tossed his armour to the side and put a hand to his bared chest as though wounded.
"I doubt you have," Fenris drawled. "His pronunciation is atrocious."
"Pedica te," Anders said with a sweet smile.
"It’s pronounced teh, not tee," Fenris grumbled, one ear twitching.
"I know," said Anders, still smiling. "And you’re one to talk. Artie told me about the time you recited a grocery list in Tevene and pretended it was dirty talk."
Fenris shot Artemis a betrayed look over a cackling Isabela’s shoulder. Artemis offered him a sheepish look.
"I still liked it," Artie said, shrugging. Fenris grumbled a few choice words in Tevene into his whiskey. Anders’s whiskey. If it really qualified as whiskey.
"Well, my dear Hawkes," Zevran said, hands on his hips and absolutely no shame in the way he displayed himself. "Your gift is unwrapped. And now what are you going to do with me, hmm?" The smile he gave Cormac and Artie was wicked.
"Why, tie you up and manhandle you, of course." Cormac grinned, easily. This was the easy part. He didn’t have to be interested, he just had to make it look good, for his brother — his brother who’d taught him all those little ways to make a little bit of control go a long way.
"You two strong humans going to savage this dainty elf?" Zevran joked, and Cormac almost tripped over a pile of blankets and something as he suddenly backed up.
"Nope." Cormac held his hands up, close to his shoulders. "Nope, nope. I’ll play at control, if you want it, but leave your elfiness out of it. I’m not— I don’t— That’s a little much, even for me."
"I should point out that carving his chest like a ham isn’t too much for him," Anders noted, drily, from the sidelines. "So, ‘a little much’ is something you’ve really got to work for."
"Well. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten quite that response." Zevran remained unmoved, hands still at his hips, except that his eyes narrowed very slightly into a significantly more intent and curious gaze. "You say you will play at control. You don’t think you could take it?"
"I know I couldn’t. I can protect myself from you. I might, if I were very lucky, be able to kill you. But, you were a Crow, and now you are not. I couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t fully intend to do. Not," Cormac raised one finger and lowered the other hand, "that I would try, even if you weren’t so obviously as you are. I don’t even play in not wanting. You want, we give. You don’t want, we stop."
"And who takes care of your interests? Who makes sure I don’t push too hard on either of you?" Zevran asked, eyes sharp.
"I do. For both of us." Cormac’s smile was as impolite as it had gotten all day. "That’s my little brother. You even suggest you might do that intentionally, and only one of you and I will walk out of this clearing."
Cormac flicked his fingers and a barrier sprung up around Zevran. "I stop you."
Zevran eyed Cormac through the barrier, head tilted and eyes narrowed in consideration. "So those are the stakes," he said, lips pulling up in a grim smile. "I step over a boundary, and you remind me where they are. Physically. Little room for misunderstanding, there."
Artemis cleared his throat pointedly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Not that we think that will be necessary," he said, quirking an eyebrow at Cormac. "And despite my wonderful brother’s posturing, I am capable of looking after myself."
"Oh, of that I have no doubt," Zevran said, pulling his stare away from Cormac to land on Artemis instead. "From what I saw outside, you could manhandle me without even touching me. Gives an elf ideas."
"Not good ones," Anders muttered. "His aim is terrible, and I’d rather not need to cast any healing this early in the… proceedings."
Zevran shrugged one shoulder and turned back to Cormac, leaning nonchalantly against the barrier. "The old fashioned way, then. Though this might get in the way." He rapped his knuckles against the barrier. It didn’t make a sound, but the barrier shimmered where Zevran touched it.