Dec 292015
 

[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 288
Co-Conspirator: TumblrMaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Artemis Hawke ,  Fenris , Cormac Hawke , Isabela , Zevran Arainai
Rating: E (L3 N4 S4 V2 D1)
Warnings: Bloodplay, knifeplay, the internet is for porn
Notes: Some more awkward humour. Zevran has knives. Cormac is thrilled with this plan.


Cormac dropped the barrier and moved closer. "So… Manhandling, then?" he asked, reaching out to stroke the side of Zevran’s neck, with one finger.

"Definitely," Zevran agreed. "Do you happen to have any spells for the tying up parts? My Solona keeps promising to look some up, but she gets so busy… alas!"

"I… don’t think I’d considered that," Cormac admitted, sliding his hand up to cup the back of Zevran’s head, fingers twisting into his hair again. "I could probably figure out some limited use of barrier, like we used to do with the fruit trees, but, I’m not sure that’s something I really want to test for the first time on living flesh." He pulled Zevran closer, leaning down to purr into one pointed ear as he shot his brother a smouldering look. "Magic can get a little dangerous, when there’s sex involved. I don’t want to come so hard I accidentally sever your hand, even if we do have the best healer in the Marches right here beside us."

"Yes, please don’t," Anders sighed. "If anyone’s blood ends up all over things, it should be Cormac’s, and it should be done carefully."

"Ah, perhaps that is not such a good idea, then." Zevran shrugged and dipped his head to make sure Cormac’s hand came with him, as he sank to his knees, again, dipping his fingers under the bottom of the last layer of Cormac’s robe. He slid his hands up thick, hairy legs, thumbs tracing the lines of muscle. "You like to bleed?"

"I like a little pain," Cormac replied.

"A little," Isabela scoffed, snorting as she wriggled in Fenris’s lap. "He likes to be sliced and slapped and bit."

"I do," Cormac admitted, eyes bright at the thought.

"And… Anders gives you this?" Zevran turned his head, pulling against the hand in his hair, to get a look at Anders. "You are a very different man, I think."

"I’m also the best healer he knows, so it’s probably for the best," Anders joked, just to avoid admitting just how very different he was.

Zevran beckoned Artemis closer with a curl of his fingers. "No surprise? No disgust?" he asked Artie. "As I have said, I have no siblings, but one would expect…" He trailed off meaningfully.

"My brother is loud," Artemis said flatly, affecting a pained look. "Consistently loud. And descriptive. I could write a treatise on his sex life, but Bethany already did. That’s our sister, by the way."

"Who also has the Hawke ass," Isabela helpfully supplied. She squeezed Fenris’s thigh through the leather, pleased when he didn’t bat her hand away. "You’re right," she said to him in a stage whisper. "The view here is better."

Artie realised that was because her eyes were at ass height. He laughed sheepishly and scooted a little behind Zevran. Izzy didn’t mind this view either.

Artemis trailed a hand down Zevran’s arm, his touch light, a question. "So, er… how are we doing this?" he asked, glancing at Cormac over Zevran’s shoulder before looking away. He hoped his stomach would untie itself from its knot of nerves once they started, once he had the touch of skin to distract him.

"I can think of two ways to do this. We can do it like we’ve done before — I’ll take the bottom and you sit in his lap — or we can put you on the ground and I’ll set the pace from the top," Cormac offered.

"There are a hundred other ways, but those are the simple ones. Perhaps we should start simple. There’s no sense in beginning in the middle and getting too confused to make it to the end." Zevran rose up, pressing himself against Cormac as he finally tugged the robe off. "You are a lucky man, Anders," he said, leaving the robe tangled on Cormac’s neck and arms, as his hands explored the thick muscle of Cormac’s body.

Cormac shrugged out of the robe, letting it fall, and beckoned Artemis closer with the hand away from their audience. "I’m the lucky one," he insisted. "Have you let him tear you apart with that incredible pole?"

"Ah, I have not. Not that he was offering. It did seem perhaps a bit large for anyone’s good, but Messere Howe seemed to enjoy it quite a bit," Zevran answered, an amused lilt to his words.

"You’re an elf, Zev," Anders groaned, taking back the whiskey. "It would probably have been fatal."

"Nonsense! You’re an excellent healer!" Zevran laughed. "But, I do appreciate you sparing me the trouble."

"I can think of worse ways to die," Artemis quipped. He shifted closer, his hands roving over Zevran’s back and sides, over muscles leaner than Fenris’s but with their own raw strength. "We could tell the world you were defeated by a mage and his mighty staff. A hero’s death, to be sure."

"No," Anders sighed. "No one is dying on, in, or around my staff."

Fenris quirked an eyebrow at him. "In?"

"Whatever." Anders shrugged and pried the drink out of Isabela’s hands. "Pick a preposition you like. Still a fact."

"Cum," was Artie’s contribution to the conversation, with a devilish smirk at the trio on the ground.

"Pardon?" Isabela asked, eyebrows shooting up while Anders dribbled whiskey down his chin.

"That’s a preposition," Artie explained innocently. "In Tevene. Isn’t that right, Fenris?"

"Oh good," Zevran laughed. "I was thinking, ‘Well, I’d like to, but it’s a bit soon’."

Fenris let his head thunk back against the tree at his back. "I don’t know if I should be pleased or horrified that you remember that. You barely know how to say ‘hello’ in Tevene, but that you remember."

"I know how to say ‘hello’ in Tevene," Artie huffed, wrapping his arms around Zevran. "I also know how to say ‘with’. And a few other choice phrases that make your ears vibrate." He nibbled at the curve of Zevran’s shoulder, and the elf all but purred.

Artemis laid back on the bedrolls, pulling Zevran along with him.

Cormac followed them down, settling on Zevran’s other side. "Artie? Give me your hand. Why don’t you work him open for me, while he works on … catching my interest." He smiled apologetically at Zevran. "It doesn’t just… work. You want me to fuck you, you’re going to need to hurt me, until I can." Zevran didn’t know them. He’d never know if that was true — and the thing was, it would work. And no one would ever have to know quite how ambivalent Cormac was about this whole affair. Even their audience would assume he just wanted it that way, this time, and threw in a little extra incentive to be sure he got it.

"Biting, slapping, and slicing, hmm?" Zevran dragged the corner of one short, squared nail down the edge of Cormac’s chest. "Doesn’t the blood end up matting—"

"Yes." Cormac laughed. "But there’s nothing like the smell of blood and the feeling of being torn apart and fucked so hard that all I see is stars. I thought, knowing Anders, you might be familiar with that particular pleasure. But, maybe not."

"Oh, I think that came after he left the keep. That… I might not have expected of the Anders I knew." Zevran’s teeth gleamed wetly as he smiled. "But, I think I can give you something to remember."

"Sharp pains. Stinging, not aching," Cormac said, casting a grease spell in one closed hand and holding it out over Zevran’s hips. Artie touched Cormac’s hand, dipping his fingers in the grease.

"Stinging, hmm?" Zevran said, watching the two of them. He twisted his fingers and pulled a knife from the fold of his palm. "I believe that can be arranged."

Greased fingers still in the air, Artemis blinked at Zevran, looking the elf up and down. "Where did…? You’re naked."

"Ah! So you’ve noticed!" Zevran’s grin was all teeth.

"Yes. Yes, I noticed the naked elf next to me," Artie said flatly. "I did not, however, notice him pulling a knife out of his ass! Metaphorically. I hope. Maker, you didn’t actually—?"

Zevran barked a laugh. "Oh, no, no. That would be most uncomfortable. There were no knives in my ass, I assure you. Well. Not recently." He gave Artie’s wet fingers a pointed look. "Now, are you going to do something with those, hmm?"

"Er." Artemis tried not to wonder about it too much. Zevran shifted into a more accommodating position, and Artie caressed his flank, his hip, with dry fingers before applying wet fingers to the seam of Zevran’s ass.

Zevran ran the tip of the blade down Cormac’s chest, not hard enough to cut, but to make the point that it was there. "You know, there were many things my time with the Crows taught me. Perhaps not so strangely, this was one of them."

And then the blade bit in, four quick, tiny slices, in places Cormac had never much considered until that moment. Every thought in his head evaporated, and he was sure someone, somewhere, was having a good time, but it took a few seconds to realise the voice was his. His eyes gleamed, as his wits returned to him, and he grabbed Zevran by the hair, yanking his head back for a savage kiss that was as much teeth as anything. Cormac’s mouth moved down, lips soft and teeth sharp against Zevran’s slender neck.

"That," Cormac panted, as words came back to him. "Do more of that and I’m yours."

Eyes sparkling, Zevran smirked, empty hand sliding down between them, as he rocked his hips against Artemis’s hand. "Oh! That is working, isn’t it?"

"This might not take as long as I thought it would," Cormac admitted, suddenly realising he’d poured the grease in his hand all over Zevran’s hip and ass cheek, at some point. "Sorry about the… You got me by surprise."

Zevran chuckled softly, a huff of breath against Cormac’s lips. "Do not worry. I’ve been covered in worse things." Zevran writhed between the two of them, canting his hips to pull Artemis’s fingers deeper. He tilted his head, not enough to pull free of Cormac’s grip but enough to let Artemis know he was being addressed. "You do not need to be so delicate with me," he said.

Artie wondered if that was what he sounded like, and he had to bite off a laugh. He nuzzled at Zevran’s nape before nipping at his spine, biting the base of his shoulder. That brought his face perilously close to Cormac’s, but he could pretend that was an accident.

Zevran’s hand moved, almost too fast to see, opening rivulets of blood across Cormac’s chest. He purred at the sounds Cormac made, while Artie pretended they didn’t affect him. Artemis waited until Zevran’s hand was still before finally taking his suggestion and twisting his fingers, shoving them in hard enough to make Zevran gasp. So the elf liked what he liked, for the most part. That made things easy.