[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 290
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: Pain, pleasure, and uncomfortable realisations.
Anders let his eyes drift back to Cormac. He wondered if he’d ever get used to watching Cormac this way — demanding and raw, grabbing and taking. It was so different to how they were, together. Cormac was always so gentle with him, sometimes to the point of making him crazy, but this… Sometimes, he wanted this, too. Just never asked. Just never wanted to know Cormac could give him that. Another one of those strange, sick-feeling things, and while none of those had ever ruined anything for them, he didn’t want to take that chance, didn’t want to break something irreparable — especially after the last time he’d talked Cormac into giving him what he really wanted. So, he took what was safe, let Cormac touch him softly, tore Cormac apart afterward. That, he could do, however long it had taken him to come into it. And he wondered if he would be so obviously, unignorably pleased, if he asked Cormac for some of the things he wanted. If he let Cormac do things to him that had never been done kindly — well, Howe, but he wouldn’t really count Howe as ‘kindly’. Much more ‘drunkenly’. ‘Stupidly’. ‘Half-assedly’.
He watched Cormac’s whole ass piston forward, driving him into Zevran, over and over, listening to the sounds wrung from the three of them. Something wasn’t right, here, and Anders couldn’t tell if it was that his own perceptions were off — it had been years since he’d seen Zevran — or if Cormac was actually just… He thought it might be that this was someone new. Wasn’t him, wasn’t Artemis or Isabela. That might explain why the rhythm seemed off. And if he was trying not to pay too much attention to Artie, maybe that would do it.
And then Cormac howled, wordless, at first, then, "Please! Aah—" The next word turned into a groan, but Anders’s ears caught the gist of it, having heard that sound so many times. That had almost been Artemis’s name.
"And now you are pleading?" Zevran panted. "Oh, I must be talented!"
Artie’s eyes snapped open at the sound that was almost his name. Had he heard that or was that just his imagination? He met Cormac’s eyes with a heated look, a groan shivering past his lips, before turning his attention back to their guest. "Incredibly talented," he purred in Zevran’s ear, biting at the pointed shell and writhing under him.
Zevran’s grip on Artie’s wrist tightened, and he panted against Artie’s neck. First Solona, and now these two. He would have to commend their family on the excellent genes. He didn’t know such talents were hereditary.
"Oh, yes! Like that!" Zevran hissed over his shoulder at a particularly merciless thrust, and the Hawke under him agreed, a fine tremble running through his skin.
Long legs left Zevran’s back to wrap around Cormac too, and Artie’s heels dug into the small of Cormac’s back to spur him on.
Artie’s whimpers turned to shouts, and Fenris tightened his grip on Izzy as he rocked up into her. "Brace yourself," he said in her ear. "There’s about to be an earthquake."
"Ooh! Is that a promise? Doesn’t feel like a position where you’re going to get that kind of force, but all right!" Isabela grinned over her shoulder at Fenris, who simply snorted and cocked his chin at the pile of bodies.
"Doesn’t matter what position you’re in," Anders pointed out, bracing the bottle between his knees, as his other hand moved more quickly over the space between his hips. "Matters what position Artie’s in."
Isabela just looked confused for a moment, but that faded into another smug smile as Fenris’s fingers caressed her.
"You want this?" Cormac snarled, barely able to force his breath into words. "You want me to pound you down and empty myself into your tight ass? Because that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to come inside of you. I’m going to paint your insides white."
Zevran’s breath stuttered as his hips rolled of their own volition, grinding down into Artemis, deep and hard. "Yes," he demanded. "Yes, give me that!"
Cormac licked his lips and watched his brother’s face, dreamed of being the one to put that look there, to wring out those desperate sounds.
Artemis was past coherence, past words or sense. He pried his white-knuckled grip away from Zevran’s shoulder to reach down between them, wrapping a hand around himself and pumping desperately. His toes curled, and his shout filled the air.
Then Izzy felt the ground tremble, heard the rustle of leaves overhead, and she gasped at the sensation, eyes wide and nails digging into Fenris’s leg. Fenris’s laugh was breathless but smug.
"Earthquake," he and Anders pointed out at the same time. Izzy had so many questions.
"He…?" She panted, paused to collect her thoughts while Fenris continued to be distracting. "That’s a thing?"
Fenris cackled against her shoulder while Anders grinned and nodded.
"Not every time?" she asked.
Anders nodded again. "Every time. Well. Mostly."
Zevran almost didn’t notice the earthquake, the way Cormac was slamming into him, the way Artemis was clenching around him, but he managed a breathless laugh of his own when he did. "So it is true," he said, his smug grin interrupted by a gasp.
"I want you," Cormac panted. "Oh, b—" beloved "—blight, I want this!" He fought to ignore the elf between them, but Zevran got louder and more desperate, as he got closer, and that voice wasn’t the one Cormac wanted to hear. Or even the other one he wanted to hear. Any of them, really, and the list wasn’t short, but this elf wasn’t really on it, however talented he so clearly was.
Cormac pounded in harder, the frustration driving his hips, and Zevran arched beneath him, head coming to rest against Cormac’s shoulder, as the moans and gasps grew louder and more intent. "Do it," Cormac insisted. "Come for us."
It wasn’t that he cared, but this little charade would fall apart if he left Zevran unsatisfied. Artemis was pleased — thrilled, to judge by the force that rattled the earth beneath them — and that was enough. Still, Cormac rutted into the elf beneath him, as if sheer force would be enough, tears of frustration gathering in the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut and thought of Artemis begging him for any number of things. Maybe he’d get lucky, if he could just keep his mind in the right place. If not, he’d pretend, and take the rest out of Anders, as soon as they had a minute alone. But, every time Cormac edged closer, Zevran would make another sound — of delight, at least — and that same rush of numbness would lash through Cormac’s body.
Zevran moaned, a long, slow sound, broken up by the merciless thrusts into his body, and his eyes widened, as he gazed down at Artemis, a stunned look on his face, as the pleasure of the moment washed over and rolled through him.
Artemis wound his legs tighter around the two men on top of him, one more soft groan catching in his throat as Zevran spilled into him. Zevran finally let go of Artie’s wrist to better brace himself against Cormac’s thrusts, palms flat on either side of Artie’s head, and over his shoulder, Artemis caught the determined look on his brother’s face and saw the sweat dotting his skin.
Artie stopped himself from saying Cormac’s name and from making a growl of frustration when Cormac kept his eyes shut. Hoping Zevran wouldn’t notice, Artie wrapped a hand around Cormac’s wrist and sent a jolt through his skin and then another, setting up a pulsing rhythm a hair faster than Cormac’s thrusts.
"More," Cormac pleaded, with barely enough sense left to leave his brother’s name out of it. He pressed himself closer against Zevran’s back, writhing, the drying blood sticky between them, tugging the wounds open with every motion. "Fuck," he panted, and then again, "fuck, I can’t—"
Anders watched Zevran pick up the knife, again, weight shifting to support him single-handed, as the elf reached back with it. Anders considered saying something, but really, knowing Cormac like he did, it would probably work. Besides which he was sitting right here. It wasn’t like it would scar.
Cormac screamed as the blade slid around the curve of his hip, a thin line opening in his skin. Finally, he emptied himself into Zevran, despite himself, the sparks running up his arm soothing and sweet. After a moment to catch his breath, he eased himself back, as slowly as he could make himself move, trembling and dazed.