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“Okay, I’ve had it.”

Hawke whirled around to level both his current companions with a glare. A good and thorough ‘I’m royally pissed off now’ type of glare.

Perhaps it was his own fault for taking Anders and Fenris along with nobody else to temper them. Making them stop their bickering was hard at any given time, but for Hawke alone it was practically impossible. But he’d really had enough now – and it was still hours before they would be back at Kirkwall. It was between stuffing his fingers in his ears and running off singing or finally resolving this fight for good.

“Drop your breeches.”

Where the mage and elf had worn very similar expressions of annoyed before, they were now deviating for looks of utter confusion and pure surprise.

“W-what?”

“I said: drop your breeches.” Hawke gestured at Anders aggressively, pointing down. “I’m sick off your constant bickering. Your fight may have had some content about mages and freedom long ago, but at this point it’s just about who can piss further and I’m done with it. So drop your breeches.”

They both spluttered in protest, but it was a red-faced Anders who managed to argue first.

“This is not about-!”

Hawke cut him off with a demanding swipe off his hand, taking a threatening step forward. The mage visibly gulped and backed away, clearly surprised by Hawke’s anger. It wasn’t common for Hawke to actually snap at them, let alone look this pissed off. It was a relief to know they were both aware they had gone too far now.

Fenris was just shuffling his feet in the sand below them, and Hawke would dare to say he was fidgeting if he didn’t know Fenris would protest against that vehemently. Anders was blushing so hard Hawke could almost feel the heat coming off his face though, and he was quite clearly fidgeting.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again,” he threatened lowly.

“I have no interest in comparing sizes or piss distances with the mage,” Fenris finally snarled, having found his tongue.

“You might have thought of that before you started this senseless argument over and over again.” Hawke reached down, starting to unlace his breeches with angry movements. “If you’re just shy, let me help out. Whoever has the biggest dick is right, yes? If you don’t show, you lose. If I win, you both shut your bloody mouths and I won’t hear the word ‘mage’ from either of you ever again.”

Mage and warrior were gaping, blatantly staring at Hawke’s crotch as he pulled out his flaccid cock. Anders couldn’t blush much harder, but a distinct hint of red was colouring the tip of Fenris’ and dusting over his cheeks.

“Well?” Hawke gave himself a few fast strokes for good measure, making his already sizeable cock harden and grow. With the way those two were looking at him, he was pretty sure the way back to Kirkwall was going to be blissfully quiet. Hawke was rather well-endowed, if he did say so himself.

Anders was the first to cave, his lips thinning into a thin line as he hiked up his coat and unlaced his breeches. Fenris head whirled around to watch as the blond apostate tugged his privates free into the open air as well, quickly stroking himself in Hawke’s example to improve his chances of ending up the biggest. Hawke’s lips twisted into a grin.

Anders wasn’t small, but he doubted he would be larger than Hawke even fully hard.

That was to say, Anders was bloody well trying, so Hawke picked up on his own stroking to make sure he remained ahead.

Fenris was blushing furiously by now, undecided whether to look at Hawke or Anders, but clearly fixated on their cocks rather than their faces.

“So it was all bluff, was it elf?” Anders smile was vicious, and all the warrior needed to finally get into action. He fumbled, but removed one gauntlet before pushing his legging down. Hawke barked out a laugh rather pleased at seeing the elf had already been reacting to the show before him, dick springing out half hard.

Luckily for Fenris he wasn’t able to blush harder anymore either, so all that gave away his embarrassment was his fumbling and the somewhat slack grip on his cock as he nervously started stroking himself.

Big for an elf, that was for sure. But Fenris was still an elf and therefore naturally smaller than humans in most aspects. Anders had his height speaking for him, his cock thin and long much like the rest of his body. Hawke had the bulk, his cock mirroring his girth and making it hard to compare them just by sight. They would really need to line up or measure if they wanted to compare, but Hawke was confident now this was a battle between him and Anders only.

Until Fenris seemed to man up and started stroking himself properly, at least.

Hawke and Anders had themselves fully hard, stroking somewhat lazily now to keep themselves there as Fenris picked up to catch up with them. Hawke’s jaw dropped slightly when he realised how fast Fenris’ length was growing, how big he was growing, and he heard the distinct gasp of the mage beside him.

Both transfixed on Fenris now, Hawke barely realised he had started to stroke faster just of the sight of the elf’s cock growing. He hardly bothered to even think about comparing now, not with that beautiful sight of a tan cock growing, red from the tip and dark down to the base where lyrium lines swirled into a light dusting of soft looking white hair. Hawke wondered for a moment if it shouldn’t have been black, like Fenris’ eyebrows, but he grinned wearily when he realised it was literally the lyrium turning the hair white. Only the elf’s eyebrows had no contact with lyrium whatsoever.

It was still quite the contrast to the thick patch of blond curls around Anders’ cock, and the even thicker forest growing around Hawke’s. He’d always been a hairy person, and he noted with some degree of pride how Fenris seemed to be rather intrigued by it. Like he wanted to touch.

Not that Hawke wasn’t thinking similar things about the elf’s pubic hair, the thin white dusting looking soft like a baby’s hair.

A moan rolled from Anders’ lips, and before Hawke knew it they had all picked up even further, rubbing and stroking themselves furiously. He watched thumbs slipping over the wet heads in succession, each following the other’s example. Hawke moved to cup his balls and knead them delicately in a large hand, only to see Anders and Fenris do the exact same.

The next rumbling moan came from Fenris, and Maker how did the elf grow such a big cock? Not that Anders wasn’t impressive – actually Hawke wasn’t so sure who would win this anymore, but it was only a small thought now. He had more important things on his mind, like the delicious moans tumbling from his companion’s lips, and answering those with his own.

Anders started shaking, eyes squeezing shut as he hunched over. Fenris’ breathing hitched to desperate short gasps at the sight, and Hawke moaned deeply in appreciation.

So close, so very close-

Anders spilled, thick spurts of his seed splattering down in the sand between them. Only after the first two jets Fenris joined with a deep guttural moan that really shouldn’t be so erotic, but Anders was still releasing by the time Fenris milked the last drops from his cock lazily.

It was the heated stare of those large green eyes on Hawke’s crotch that finally brought him over as well, and he didn’t bother muffling his own sounds as his head lolled back on his shoulders, long thick bursts of his seed joining the awkward puddle between them. His toes curled in his boots, body shaking in pleasure as the heat curled through his body, in his groin.

When he came down, he dropped his head back forward to blink blearily at him companions, smirking somewhere between proud and tired.

Anders and Fenris were shifting awkwardly, although Hawke dared say neither of them looked like they really regretted what just happened. They probably just didn’t know what to say, or were just waiting for Hawke’s verdict.

Ah yes. Their little pissing match. That didn’t quite work out the way it was supposed to.

“Sorry, I forgot to measure,” he drawled lazily, not yet bothering to tuck himself back while still in his afterglow. “Guess we need to do that again later.”