Dragon Age - OTA

[spaceswan]

Who: A Guardian named Macklemore Journey, the Illustrious Uldren Sov and OTA
What: Surviving in a foreign land, surviving technology loss.
When: After Origins, before Inquisition
Where: Just outside of Orlais.
Warnings: Possible smut, will be marked as necessary.



"PULL BACK OR WE'LL GO RIGHT IN!"

Probably famous last words or something. After the little diatribe from The Guide (why did so many figures in his life go by titles instead of legitimate names? The Speaker, The Queen, Ghost...) Mac was at least comforted by the knowledge that he wasn't dead and they didn't get crushed into tiny particles by a black hole. Instead of a sudden spatial anomaly it was, evidently, some sort of wormhole that Uldren - stuck up idiot - plowed their ship through. All the fuss over not being allowed to pilot the ship and now they were stuck somewhere without said ship.

Marvelous.

"I'm not taking the blame this time. Oh no. No no no, this time, this time, it was all you!" Mac seethed, bristling briefly before fizzling out. He didn't have the capacity for real anger lasting more than a few moments. Generally he left it up to Uldren to be the irate one. After he was assigned as escort to the high and mighty Prince, things got weird. Then they got heated and now? Well...

Glancing over at the assassin, Mac wondered if Uldren was trained for survival or just all show. They'd never been stranded before. Stuck at outposts on occasion, but never legitimately without transport. Or weapons, Mac observed ruefully. Of course he just had to set his guns aside to lounge more comfortably in the navigator's seat. What an ass thing to do.

Uldren still wasn't talking. That was never a good thing. If the man wasn't being snarky he was being bitter, but he always had something to say. Puffing a sigh and turning away to check his armor over, Mac did a quick inventory and decided he was probably screwed. At least Ghost was still there...

"Have you ever seen so many trees? And there's no debris anywhere...no rusted out cars, no airplane carcasses. This isn't Earth, that's for damned sure...Oh. My. God. Is that a bear?" Mac asked shrilly, scrambling to Uldren's side and shoving several times to get the man to pay attention. In fact, there was a bear in the distance. And some deer, a collection of birds, a rabbit and an open meadow surrounded on all sides by forest. Mac had landed next to a creek when he tumbled ass over head through the portal - fortunately his head wasn't that susceptible to heavy blows, thick as it was.

"Uldren. ULDREN. Where are we? Ghost where are we?"

"I cannot sense The Traveler's Light. I cannot find The Darkness, either. Scans show no signs of Fallen, Hive or Vex activity...I do not know where we are located...I'm not even sure how we still exist."

Well, that wasn't even a little comforting.

"I'm too pretty do die in some weird mystery woodland. Ghost, find a way home--"

"The Guide was very clear. You will get home by traveling there on your own. I cannot make a way back if I don't know where we are."

"Good for nothing chatty Rubic's Cube," Mac muttered, looking at Uldren fretfully. Hopefully the man really didn't blow up and blame him for this...they were definitely going to need each other if--

"I detect human life forms. The signs are faint and distant. On foot it will take several days to find them. the concentration suggests a city. Shall I chart a course?"

"Yeah! Yes. Yeah do that...chart a course...thing...shit. Days? I've never taken days to get anywhere..." Mac complained to himself, reaching up to tug his helmet off, tucking it under his arm as he inhaled the remarkably fresh air. No Hive? No Fallen or Vex or Crota or any other miserable bullshit breathing down the neck of all that was good? He could tolerate the vacation.

Comments

[princereefcrow]

Uldren growled and shuddered against Mac when the man tugged on his hair, fingers digging into the man's hips hard enough to leave bruises, if Mac had been able to bruise. He moaned loudly as the Guardian teased his lips with that warm tongue, barely aware that Mac was actually speaking to him, let alone that it was important. He snapped at the man when Mac let go of him again, snarling out his words without realizing it would probably terrify the poor elf.

"Mac! When we're not fucking freezing, your ass is gonna be so damn ruined! You're gonna be chained for a week and I swear to god I'm gonna see if taking a chunk of flesh out of you heals up without a damn scar. I'll use you so fucking much you'll be weeks recovering!"

Ilormael jumped when the Prince growled and then started snarling at Mac, but he was actually too scared to try and run. That and he was so hard he wasn't sure he could run. He'd never been so aroused before, and even though the Prince was scary as hell, Mac wasn't. He bit his lip as as they spoke to each other in their own language, eyes flitting from one to the other, though mostly he watched the Prince. He was the really dangerous one. But then Mac touched his ears.

The elf shivered and moaned, eyes closing against his will as he rocked on the man's lap, clinging to Mac as those hands teased his ears. Ilormael didn't even notice the pulling at his clothes at first, but eventually it penetrated. It was a real effort to open his eyes and give Mac a hazy, pleading look. He didn't know what to ask for, or how to say what he wanted, because he didn't really know what he wanted.

"I . . . please? Touch . . . my ears? Please?"

[spaceswan]

"Oh-ho! Listen at him! Promises promises, my dear Prince!" Mac laughed, barely wincing when the man dug fingers into his skin. Certainly the Guardian could bruise, though only just for a few moments when it happened, and even then, that required far more dire an injury than the grip of a lover.

When Ilormael moaned and squirmed, Mac knew he'd won. The game was hardly played, but he'd already put the elf's Queen in check, and he knew Uldren would catch it, too. Once you found someone someone liked, it was all too easy to use it against them. Not that they didn't all recognize that as their collective goal, once they had decided to invite the elf into their figurative bed.

"Of course," Mac replied graciously. "Anything you want is yours, you know? This isn't about us taking anything. We're all one another's guests in this instance. Generous hosts aiming to be friends. Ask anything and you should have it," he sighed, leaning against Uldren even as he stroked the youth's ears with gentle fingertips.

"His ears," he reported to Uldren, glancing over his shoulder at the other Awoken. "That's the ticket right there. A little finesse...he moves like a serpent."

[princereefcrow]

He merely growled against Mac's nape, trying to keep his face hidden behind the Guardian. Uldren had seen the fear on the boy's face and it hurt him. It was one thing to be feared by his and the Queen's enemies, but seeing that same fear on such a young face, a face that Mac had been kissing . . . It hurt. He wasn't a damn monster after all! Well, actually he was, but he was just as attractive as Mac!

Actually . . . he really wasn't. He was attractive, handsome even, but he hadn't been doing a good job of showing that off to the elf. He was snarling and growling and being violent, not to mention he was the one who'd caught the poor kid to start with. And even though Ghost was translating, it wasn't really the same thing at all to what Mac was doing. Mac was speaking to the elf, in his own language, and seducing the kid with surprising ease. He was . . . jealous. He was definitely jealous, but he was also strangely lonely. He wanted to join in more, but all he did was scare the elf. There was only so much he could do to Mac without just shoving the kid away after all!

Uldren sighed and nipped Mac's spine, his hands sliding up and down the man's sides, "Get him off Mac. Show him how good it feels. All I do is scare him." He dragged his tongue over warm skin, fingers clenching on Mac's hips again as he rubbed against the man's ass. He wasn't made of stone and holding back was killing him, but he'd done this for Mac, in a fucked-up way. He'd like to be a more active participant, but what the hell could he do? Every move he made toward the elf was met with fear! It would just be better for Mac to do everything with the kid.

Ilormael heard the soft words that the Prince spoke, but they still made no sense. That was part of his fear, not knowing what was being said. Was the man instructing Mac to kill him or kiss him? As weird as their relationship seemed to be, he didn't feel all that confident Mac would stand up for him if it really came down to it. His glowing-eyed potential lover was in the Prince's thrall, and if the Prince decided he'd be a good sacrifice . . . Well, he wasn't stupid enough to think that he'd be more important than what the Prince wanted. And yet, he found himself moaning again as Mac's clever fingers played with his ears. He clung to the man breathing hard, feeling as if he was on fire. How much better would it be if Mac's hands moved lower?

[spaceswan]

"You wouldn't frighten him so much if you weren't always looking around with resting bitchface or growling and sneering," Mac chuckled, reaching back and cupping a hand against Uldren's cheek to draw him in for a gentler, kinder kiss than their usual.

"You're a scary guy, you know? Just ease him into it," the Guardian shrugged, reaching out the other direction and tugging Ilormael closer to whisper to the boy.

"He's upset that he frightened you," he whispered against the elf's ear before tracing the shell with his tongue, breath hot and damp. "He told me to get you off. You know what that means?" he asked, arching a purple brow and smirking faintly as one hand slid down the boy's chest and belly, tickling a gentle path.

"Is that what you want? You can have literally anything right now, however it would please you. He's holding back, you know. Keeping his distance so you don't get upset. He's actually quite marvelous when he isn't grumbling and complaining. He's the best Prince his people could ask for, believe it or not. He just happens to be my lover. Our lover, if you wished it. Tonight is for secret liaisons, Ilormael. You have a Prince's permission to do anything you can imagine. Are you really going to pass up a royal opportunity?" Mac rasped, tracing fingertips along the growing bulge of the elf's cock, shameless in the face of his lover's commands. Shy though Mac was by nature, he could go from zero to sixty at a mere hint of Uldren's desire. Well-trained, really.

[princereefcrow]

Uldren took the kiss, allowing it to be gentle for once. He was capable of a softer side, but it was so hard to remember sometimes, especially when he was so worked up. He had to be a monster in most of his life, and it was hard to remember he was more than that, that he had greater depths to himself. Mac was always so happy to be abused, he didn't need to try very hard to be nice, but the elf . . .

"I don't know how to ease into things Mac. I just march up and take whatever I want, you know that. And I can't talk to him . . ."

He sighed and buried his face against Mac's nape as the foreign language lilted between the two, listening to the translation Ghost provided. He longed to be able to speak with both of them at the same time, and to understand what they said in return, but he wasn't a Guardian. And he was still a monster . . .

The look Ilormael gave Mac was, to the say the least, skeptical. True, at that particular moment the men had shared a much more gentle kiss, one he was actually pretty jealous of, and the Prince hadn't yelled and growled but spoken softly, but still. What was to say that would continue? Mac he could trust to a limited extent, but the Prince? He shivered and clung closer to Mac as the man spoke and teased him, confusing him more than anything else. How could one man be so gentle and kind, while the other was so . . .

The elf gasped and shook with reaction as Mac's hand caressed him, making a sound suspiciously like a whine in response to the question he was asked. He might never have heard it put quite that way, but it was obvious what it meant. But how could he think when Mac was touching him that way? It was so damned unfair!

Ilormael tried to concentrate on what the man was saying, since it sounded important, but it was so hard to ignore that teasing hand and the warm mouth on his ear. He was so hard it hurt, but he couldn't seem to finish on his own. He needed someone else to touch him, he needed Mac!

"I . . . I can't . . . think! It hurts! Mac I . . . I . . ."

He wanted everything and he wanted nothing. He couldn't keep a thought long enough to understand what he really wanted! If only he could have a moment alone, to think! He didn't understand! It was all too much too fast!

[spaceswan]

"Fine then. Like this," Mac grunted, pushing and pulling and writhing about until he'd fought them both off enough to push Uldren away, then push Ilormael between them. He tucked the elf forward enough that he could touch knees with the Prince. Grabbing the other Awoken's hand, he tugged, pressing it down against the boy-elf's thigh and sliding it up slowly, all while elaning over Ilormael's shoulder to nibble at his ear and whisper.

"You're so scared of him, but he doesn't mean you any harm. He brought you here in the first place because I was so excited to see elves. He's rough, but he's a good man. And I'm going to prove that he's much more interested in you and your well-being than you think."

Green eyes flicked up, glowing bright in the shadows of the shelter, the fire making Mac's usually cool blue skin a warm orange hue. He watched Uldren meaningfully, full lips curving into a slow smile of challenge.

"Suck him off," he said, gesturing lightly with the hand that wasn't guiding Uldren's own palm to the elf's stiff member.

"You want to prove you're not a boogeyman and loosen him up, then go down on him. You and I both know you like it, and you're good at it. You taught me, after all," the Warlock pointed out, smirking at his Prince with a positively devilish expression. why not turn the tables around a bit? After all, if everyone got theirs in the end, it was an evening well spent. That, and the more Mac thought about Uldren snarling around Ilormael's cock while the elf squealed or moaned or whatever he was bound to do, the more the Warlock needed to see it.

Maybe Uldren was having a bad influence on him. Maybe it was a good one? All about perspective, really.

[princereefcrow]

Being pushed away was absolutely not in the game plan! Uldren snarled and started to grab at the man, something nasty on his tongue to say, then his eyes went wide. Mac had turned himself and the elf around to face him! He stared at the Guardian, then the elf, then the Guardian again, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out. Then he realized his hand was touching the elf and his eyes zeroed in on Mac's hand holding his in place. His mouth watered and a shiver he didn't try to hide ran through him. It wasn't so much touching someone else that excited him as having Mac try to include him for real in the fantasy he'd put into motion. He really hadn't wanted to do that. What they were doing had been for Mac!

The whispering nearly did him in, even in another language. Mac really didn't ever take the lead, which was usually the way they both preferred it, and having the Guardian do it now was just . . . Uldren bit his lip, eyes squeezed shut as he fought for control. If he lost it now they'd all end up injured, though the elf would get the worst of it, and Mac might never be able to forgive him. When Mac spoke to him, his eyes popped back open and he stared at the man, actually holding his breath in shock.

"Mac!?"

Uldren sounded almost prim, completely shocked, and perhaps even a tiny bit worried. He wasn't exactly gentle, as a rule, and while he wasn't usually cruel giving a blowjob, Mac was a hell of a lot sturdier than the tiny elf they currently had trapped between them. What if he hurt the child? It wasn't safe to let him touch the elf! Although he was currently giving the kid a handjob . . .

Ilormael squawked when Mac moved him, fear making his arousal even more sharp and piercing. What the hell was happening now!? And then suddenly he was staring right at the Prince. The elf stared up and up and shrank back against Mac, one of his hands groping for the man's to cling to, but instead, Mac was moving the Prince's hand on him. He made a strangled sound of fear and need, arching into the touch even as he tried to stay away from the terrifying man.

He watched through slitted eyes as the two men talked, and carried on even more silent communication as their joined hands touched him. Ilormael was panting and squirming and desperate for relief, even if it came from the scary Prince, if only they'd let him finish so he could think again! His hands grabbed weakly at Mac's wrist, the one that was already holding the Prince's wrist, making another connection between the three of them. He looked up with desperate eyes, not caring who answered his plea anymore.

"Please!?"