[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 289
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, het
Notes: Isabela declares the situation a ‘festival of fuck’. Further pants are removed.
Body tense and taut, Cormac struggled not to writhe, his breath coming in quick, short pants, between desperate rambling pleas for more. His eyes had slid closed, at some point, and he made no effort to open them, letting himself be caught up in the visions playing out in his head, inspired by the little sounds of delight his brother made, every so often. The image of Artemis with the knife, cutting him like this, tasting his blood — he was becoming a great deal less ambivalent about the idea of fucking, and as long as he kept his eyes closed, maybe he could pretend.
Zevran’s hand and blade traversed Cormac’s skin, every slice precise and quick, each caress kneading Cormac’s chest hair. He ground his hips against the hand behind him, riding the long fingers that fondled his insides. "Ah! I would wonder if you both were demons, but I have met demons, and they were not nearly so delightful. Will you hold me down and have your wicked way with me, now? Ravish my magnificent body? Take your pleasure in my perfect flesh?"
Cormac choked on a laugh. "Hey, Anders, is this where you get that from?"
"A pox on your house to the eighth generation," Anders shot back, one hand on the bottle and the other spread between his hips, thumb tracing lazily along a suspicious curve in the fabric of his tunic. "I’ll have you know my absolutely justifiable pride is entirely my own. I don’t need some half-cocked assassin to inspire me to praise my own features and talents."
"I protest that I am whole-cocked, as your delicious companions are now well aware. Just because you are of some entirely unnatural size does not make any less of me," Zevran purred over Cormac’s shoulder, as he set the knife down, trailing his fingers over the undamaged skin of Cormac’s back.
"No, I think it does," Isabela protested, snatching the bottle back from Anders for another swig. She’d had worse things in stranger places, over the years. "You’re half-cocked and he’s double-cocked. Cormac makes up the difference."
"I, for one, would really appreciate less talking about cocks, and more using them," Cormac declared, mostly intent on doing this before his knob lost interest again. It was a fairly delicate situation, really, and Cormac fingered the wounds on his own chest, to keep himself going. "So, why don’t you throw my brother down and mount him, and I’ll spread you open and pleasure you —" both, he’d almost said, choking on the word and covering it by lifting his bloody fingers to his lips, the implication being that he’d pressed just a little too hard. This could be interesting, though. He’d essentially be using this elf to fuck Artemis, because he’d be the one setting the rhythm.
"Please," Artemis breathed. His lips were close enough to Zevran’s ear for the elf, and their audience, to assume he was talking to him. He trusted Cormac to know the difference.
"Please, is it?" Zevran purred, twisting to look at Artemis with dark eyes. "How dreadfully polite." He reached behind him to pull Artie’s fingers free and kept a grip on his wrist, rolling gracefully on top of Artemis and pinning that wrist to the ground over his head. Without hesitation, Artie hooked his legs over Zevran’s hips, and Zevran chuckled smugly. With a rock of his hips, he said, "This is what you like, is it? Being held down and ravished by handsome elves? Well, I can see the appeal."
He winked at Fenris, who growled and twisted uncomfortably under Isabela. Izzy bit her lip, throwing a coy smile over her shoulder at Fenris. "Didn’t know you carried a second sword, Fenris," she teased, wriggling in his lap. "I’d love to see you wield it."
"I’m sure," Fenris rumbled, arms tight around Isabela’s waist as he watched over her shoulder. He heard the catch in Artemis’s breath as Zevran slid into him and thought of how his mage felt from the inside. His hips pressed up into Isabela, and he didn’t need to see her face to know she was smirking.
For a time, Cormac simply watched, eyes lingering on his brother’s face, the way those long legs wrapped around Zevran. This, he could enjoy. But, he was meant to be doing something else. Something else that might totally incidentally give him an excellent excuse to run his hands along those legs. He felt his knob twitch encouragingly, as he thought of Artie making those faces, those sounds, for him.
"I know I am beautiful," Zevran said, at last, eyes sweeping over Cormac’s body, "but it is your fault you only get to see my back, if you do as you have offered."
"Hm?" Cormac was shaken from his reverie. "Distracted," he apologised. "Just a little more than I was expecting. Your… Watching you… Those are some very attractive scars."
"Yes, they are." Zevran grinned and his eyebrows twitched up suggestively. "And there are some equally nice ones you can only see from behind."
"Are there?" Cormac purred, the enthusiasm that surfaced having nothing to do with that idea, as he sat up and moved himself behind Zevran. "Spread your legs a little wider? I’d rather not kneel on you, unless you’re into that."
Zevran laughed and then buried his face against Artemis’s neck, nipping at the skin behind one ear. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words left him as two of Cormac’s fingers plunged into him, stroking and twisting.
"He did a good job on you, didn’t he?" Cormac asked, sliding in another finger, not because he needed it, but because he thought it might make Zevran’s hips roll again. "Stretched you open so wide, you could probably take Anders."
Anders snorted but managed to hold back the usual snide commentary about the flagpole and elves.
"You want this?" Cormac asked, lining up his knob with his fingers still buried in Zevran. His eyes were on Artemis, over the elf’s shoulder. "You want me to hold you down and fill you up?"
"What is it with you humans always needing so much reassurance?" Zevran joked. "You know what I want. We’ve been over this. Or do you just like teasing me? Ah, that must be it. You are a terrible tease. I am struck. Aching, even. It’s a very good thing I have something to take my mind off that." He rolled his hips and drove himself deep into Artemis, before lifting himself up again, for Cormac.
Cormac met him halfway into the motion, pulling out his fingers and sliding in his knob, slow and unceasing, until he was buried as deep as he could go, panting and shivering, eyes still on Artemis.
Artie choked back a sound at the way Cormac’s hips rocked Zevran into him. He didn’t know what was better, being wrapped around this gorgeous elf or knowing that Cormac was essentially fucking him through Zevran. Like those times they’d shared Anders, and Artemis had pretended that it wasn’t his brother he wanted. The hand not pinned over his head clutched at Zevran’s shoulder, nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in the tanned skin.
Zevran hummed, nipping and kissing the line of Artie’s throat as he pushed back against Cormac as though greedily wanting more of him, more than Cormac had to give and more than he could take. And then forward again, just to hear the younger Hawke gasp in his ear.
One leg hooked over Zevran’s hips shifted, stretching to brush an ankle over Cormac’s flank before retreating. The kind of deliberate touch Artie could pretend was an accident.
Eyes still on the delicious tangle of bodies, Isabela turned to address Anders. "And you’ve been with all three of them? You lucky bastard." Fenris nibbled at her shoulder.
"Not all at once, though," Anders muttered, knowing he could fix that oversight right now, and he probably wouldn’t have to touch anyone but Cormac to do it. And then Justice had an opinion, so he just didn’t get up.
"You could fix that," Isabela pointed out.
"Or I could just sit right here and enjoy the show. Both shows," Anders noted, shooting a sly look at Fenris, who simply smirked in return.
"So, you’ll look, but you won’t touch? A little hypocritical, don’t you think?" Isabela asked, twisting and stretching her legs, before reaching down to pick up her smalls and hook them on Fenris’s ear.
"I can like just watching. And I do." Anders snagged the bottle again, as Fenris untangled himself from the smalls on his face. As Anders took a breath to start another sentence, Fenris cut him off.
"Stop speaking, or I will come over there and stuff these in your mouth."
Anders’s eyes lit with delight, first, and then with Justice. The sassy retort died on his tongue, to be replaced with, "Please don’t."
Only vaguely aware of the conversation beside them, Cormac slammed into Zevran, still watching Artemis writhe beneath them. He smiled at the touch of Artie’s foot against his side, and that encouragement drove him to push harder, to pretend this was Artemis right under him. "Is this what you were expecting?" he panted. "Is this how you want it, rough and hard? Let me hear you…" His hand slid down the back of Artemis’s thigh and then back up the side of Zevran’s, clutching for purchase, some way to support this desperate pounding.
Meeting Cormac’s eyes, Artemis knew that question was for him. He ached to answer, and he did without words, every other thrust knocking a needy sound from his lips.
Head thrown back, Zevran let out a sound of his own, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. It was certainly a pleased sound, one way or the other. "Still with the questions?" he gasped, voice sounding strained. "But yes! This is—" He opened his mouth to keep talking, but the shove of Cormac’s hips knocked the breath out of him. His mouth hung open instead around panting breaths.
Fenris’s hand opened and closed around Isabela’s hip, and the way she was rocking in his lap made him very much aware that his leathers were the only thing between them. "Fasta vass," he hissed against her skin.
"Ah! Finally some Tevene," Izzy said, grinding back mercilessly against him. "Wasn’t that the agreement? I sit in your lap in exchange for some naughty words?" She reached behind herself, fingers searching for the hem of Fenris’s pants and then landing on the laces. Without looking, she started to toy with the knots.
"That won’t work," Fenris muttered, taking her hips and easing her off of his lap. At her disappointed — and indignant — look, Fenris smirked and pointed at the laces she’d been trying to untie unseen. "Qunari knots. Third loop from the top."
"Is that how you keep your pants on, when the ladies at the bar get too interested?" Isabela asked, watching Fenris’s fingers as he untied the knots. She’d learn it. Maybe not right away, but if she could pick locks, she could learn to untie the broody death elf’s pants.
"They rarely get close enough to try. Unlike a select few individuals of my acquaintance." A hint of a smile touched the corners of Fenris’s mouth as he looked up at Isabela and eased himself out of his trousers. "Is this what you were looking for?"
"Oooh! And so much more!" Isabela looked delighted. Leaning in beside Fenris, so she could still watch the festival of fuck in front of them, she traced her fingers along his length, only to pause and rub at a couple of spots more intently, before looking down.
"Yes, I do. Yes, that is. Yes, he did. No, I don’t want to talk about it," Fenris sighed. "And yes, apparently it does burn, so be careful with that."
"It…" Isabela’s eyes darted back to Artemis. "He’s into that? You two are kinkier than I thought!"
"Perhaps more of a tingle than a pain," Fenris said, with a shrug, running his fingers up the inside of Isabela’s thigh, questioningly.
"Well, how about I give you the good kind of tingle?" Isabela asked, her surprised look melting back into interest. Still, she watched his reaction as her hand moved over him, making sure that that look, that hitch of breath, wasn’t the pained kind.
He answered by pinching her thigh, making her leg jump. "And I’ll see about returning the favour." He eyed her half-clothed curves, the sounds and smell of sex heavy around them. With a hand on her hip, he guided her back onto his lap.
"I think I like this side of you, Broody," Izzy purred, angling herself so that she was still facing the show as she sank down onto him. Fenris’s breath shivered out of him, his grip tight on her hips.
"Which side?" Anders drawled. "His lower half? You love that side on everyone." He gave his own ‘lower half’ a squeeze at the sight next to him.
"Not everyone," Isabela protested between sighs. "I do have standards, you know! …they’re low, but they’re there!"