Apr 292016
 

[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 356
Co-Conspirator: TumblrMaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Fenris , Anders
Rating: E (L3 N4 S4 V0 D1)
Warnings: Chocolate covered Tevinter sausage and other inappropriate sausage humour, also the internet is for porn
Notes: Fenris and Anders enjoy a different sort of sausage, downstairs.


Downstairs, in a different kind of party, Fenris’s brands flickered blue, lighting Anders’s room with a ghostly glow. Anders could light a candle if he wanted to, but he didn’t care, and Justice certainly didn’t, not with lyrium lines like a roadmap of where he wanted to place his tongue.

"Chocolate," Anders said, grinning as he held up the bowl and knelt between Fenris’s legs. "Orlesian chocolate on a Tevinter sausage. Look at us being multi-national!"

"An Anders choking on Tevinter sausage?" Fenris drawled. "Indeed. Terribly multi-national."

"Promises," Anders replied, dipping a finger in the chocolate and bringing it to his lips. Or his lips to it, the way it dripped. He hummed at the sweetness on his tongue, and Fenris watched the way his lips moved around the finger a little too closely.

This promised to be messy, terribly messy, and he was glad Artemis was upstairs for this, if only for that reason.

With that wet finger, Anders lifted Fenris’s barely-interested knob and dipped the tip in the warm chocolate, watching the elf squirm a bit at the sensation. Anders leaned down and licked at the chocolate covering the tips of the lyrium lines, the flavours blending, as he sucked at just the very tip of Fenris’s knob.

Fenris’s thighs flexed, his fingers clutching at the blanket beneath him, his breath stuttering at the first touch of those ragged lips. For a healer, Anders didn’t take very good care of himself, Fenris thought, not for the first time, and then thinking was some far distant concept he might come back to, one day, as Anders’s tongue nudged back his foreskin, darting against the frenulum like hesitant caresses. For all the things he might not like about Anders, the man was amazing with his mouth. Particularly when it was occupied with something other than words.

"I was right," Anders breathed, as Fenris’s knob slipped from his lips, back into the cup of chocolate, kept warm by the heat spell in his hand. "Chocolate covered lyrium is an excellent dessert. A perfect counterpoint to Tevinter cream sausage."

Fenris groaned, head falling back to stare up at the ceiling, and that groan was as much pained as pleasured. "Do stop talking," he said. He meant it as a mild, if gruff, suggestion but worried the next moment that Anders would take it as an order. "I’ll never be able to eat another sausage, if this keeps up," he added, teasing.

"On the contrary, you might find sausages even more delightful after this," Anders replied. With one finger, Anders tipped Fenris’s knob back out of the bowl, and he bent to catch the dripping chocolate with his tongue before laving the tip. He heard the shift in Fenris’s breathing and grinned.

"Artemis has… more of a taste for sausage-eating than I do," Fenris quipped, or tried to. The words seemed clever in the moment, but then anything seemed clever to the few braincells left in his head when Anders did that with his tongue. "M-mi care botule!" he cursed, toes curling.

Rippling his tongue against the underside of Fenris’s knob, Anders sucked and swallowed hard, as if he could draw the lyrium out by force alone. As he pulled back, he darted the tip of his tongue against the slit, feeling Fenris’s thighs quiver as he lapped at the tip.

"Perhaps you’ve been eating the wrong sausage," he suggested, painting chocolate along the lines of lyrium, with one finger. "If only your own dear sausage had a twin — I think you’d discover the joy of it. The taste is incomparable." Anders flicked his tongue along a chocolate line. "And the tingle of the lyrium is compelling."

"The tingle of the lyrium is in my bones," Fenris reminded him, any further thoughts on the matter cut off by a drag of tongue down a long, thin line of chocolate-painted lyrium.

"I like the sounds I can lick out of you," Anders purred, lips brushing Fenris’s sensitive knob as they moved. His tongue dipped in again, lapping up the rest of the chocolate. He hummed at the taste of chocolate at the same time that Justice hummed at the taste of lyrium, two voices purring in one throat, which was just odd enough to pull Fenris out of his pleasure-drunk haze.

"Is Justice a fan of chocolate?" Fenris drawled, prompting a self-conscious laugh from Anders. And that was still Anders.

"We both know what he likes." Anders shrugged. He drew more chocolate lines up Fenris’s knob, this time in patterns perpendicular to his markings to better savour the difference in taste. Alternating his touch between skin and lyrium made Fenris’s thigh twitch. "I can’t say I blame him."

Then Anders wrapped his lips around Fenris, and the elf groaned, the kind of long, ragged sound that left him feeling embarrassed the next moment. But Anders grinned around him, taking that as the best kind of encouragement.

"Please don’t show your teeth that close to my sausage, mage." Fenris shifted uncomfortably, and then much more comfortably, as teeth gave way to softer lips and a long lick along a lyrium line. This was a pleasure that had no memories attached, that he could find — none before Artie, anyway, and Artemis was not the sort of man to involve chocolate in the bedroom.

He leaned back, resting on his elbows as Anders tugged at his leg, trying to get a hand further under him. Fenris was curious for as long as it took Anders to drag two chocolate covered fingers from the bed to the back of his balls, and then to chase the line with tongue. Fenris’s leg hooked over Anders’s shoulder, pulling hard against his back, as the elf arched and gasped, one of his balls suddenly inside Anders’s mouth, laved and gently sucked as Anders nuzzled the base of his knob.

Fenris was certain there were words for this somewhere and that none of them were in his suddenly limited vocabulary, as he stared, wide-eyed down the length of his own body, at the mage between his legs, licking faint sparks into his flesh. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the faint smell of spiced oranges registered, along with the thought that this should be offensive, but he couldn’t focus on the reason any longer than it took to establish the scent wasn’t actually a sign of danger, but just an annoyance.

Anders did something with his tongue — something Fenris couldn’t even begin to describe, and suddenly the other of his balls was in Anders’s mouth, in that crackling wet heat.

"Mage," Fenris panted, the sound almost pleading, and Anders hummed against his flesh, in response.

Anders let Fenris drop out of his mouth with a wet sound. "Who knew?" he said. "The best dessert for a meal of sausage is a pair of chocolate-covered nuts!"

That drew another groan from Fenris, but this was more pained than pleasured. "I am tempted to kick you out of your own bed for that, mage."

"What? For calling you delicious?" Anders sucked on one of Fenris’s balls, just hard enough to make Fenris’s breath hitch and his hands clench in the sheets. "Because you are."

Fenris didn’t know if more chocolate was added or if that was just Anders’s tongue, but at the feel of more wet heat on his skin, his head rolled back, leaving him staring dazedly up at the ceiling again. This mage’s mouth was worth the horrible jokes and the obstinate puns, worth even that smug smile Fenris knew he was making.

And Anders was definitely smiling smugly at the way Justice squirmed against the back of his eyes and Fenris squirmed before him. Quick flickers of tongue against the lyrium, over lines of hot, wet chocolate, as he took in the scent of Fenris’s body, that storm-smell that hung over the lyrium and the smell of desire, beneath. Somehow, he’d never stopped craving desire — he wanted to be wanted, even when there was no power in it, and Fenris very definitely wanted him.

Anders rubbed a sparking knuckle behind Fenris’s balls, just enough pressure to be interesting, just enough electricity to be compelling. Pouring the melted chocolate into his mouth, he let himself enjoy its bitter weight, before he wrapped his lips around Fenris’s knob, again, a swirl of thick, wet heat, the chocolate and his tongue. This time, he could hear Fenris clutching and clawing at the sheets, the low moans and heavy breaths clear in the crisp cellar air, as Anders licked, caressed, and teased the flesh in his mouth.

Fenris didn’t scream and the floors didn’t shake, but there were signs that he was close, signs Anders could read with his eyes closed. The quickening of his breath, the tightening of already taut muscles, and Anders was glad Fenris had the presence of mind not to squeeze too hard with those thighs. Fenris growled something, perhaps mindless syllables, or perhaps words in Tevene Anders didn’t quite catch, but one ragged word ("Mage!") he knew and understood. And as Fenris came, hard and sudden, Anders decided that went well with chocolate too.

This wasn’t cause for Anders to stop licking, of course. He’d never return Fenris to Artemis with sticky trails of half-licked chocolate — Artemis would have a fit, and it would be much harder to repeat this experience, assuming, of course, that Fenris meant to repeat it. So, Anders’s tongue made a long, slow, thorough journey along Fenris’s thighs, chasing the last taste of chocolate from his skin. Everywhere he’d tasted, he now tasted again, licking away all evidence a mess had been made, however temporary.

Beneath his ministrations, Fenris continued to writhe, every touch hovering between enough and too much. Turning his head to the side, Fenris pressed his face into a ripple of the blanket, and breathed deep — only to be met with the rich orangey smell of Cormac. That was what he’d been smelling, this whole time — Cormac slept in this bed, and the sheets were redolent with his presence.

As disgusted as Fenris felt like he ought to be, something else nagged at him. This was Anders’s bedroom, unquestionably his, from the décor to the ease with which he moved through the room. This wasn’t just some guest room. It was the room in which Anders lived. It was the bed in which Anders slept with Cormac. And, for a moment, Fenris felt as if he’d overstepped, somehow, despite the invitation. And then, the weight of that invitation struck him. This was something he’d never have done — brought Anders into his own bed. But, here was the mage, kneeling beside his own bed, Fenris’s chocolate-sticky knob in his mouth.

When Anders had all but licked Fenris out of existence, he looked up to see Fenris sprawled bonelessly on his bed. He took some pride in that, if not in the pensive look on Fenris’s face. Pensive was not what usually came after a strategic application of his tongue, but this was Fenris. Then he remembered a night when the elf had come to him, drunk and wobbly and alone, and Anders’s bemusement turned to concern.

"Good?" Anders asked. "Did we enjoy dessert?"

Fenris blinked, realising he was still staring at the ceiling, and his chin dipped towards his chest so he could meet Anders’s look. "I was not expecting a sausage party to serve such excellent dessert," he said, lips twitching in an almost-smile. "Is this how Orlesian chocolate is usually served?"

Anders chuffed a laugh. "I want to say no, but in my experience, yes, statistically speaking."