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Wyll recalls a conversation between Astarion and Gale, very early on in their adventure together, where Astarion had asked Gale if he enjoyed their walks together and Gale had responded he did, when it was in silence.
Perhaps this was not what Gale meant, but it works just as well.
Astarion between them, gagged so his moans and begging don’t break their concentration. They have this room to themselves for the whole night, and with the amount of coin it took to get such a nice one, they’re going to get everything they can from it.
“Good boy,” Gale says with a grin, and fucks his hips into Astarion once again.
All Astarion can let out is a muffled moan.
Wyll can’t stop himself from brushing his fingers against Astarion’s cool cheekbone. He can’t help it—he’s not the type to participate in a harsh fuck without sweetness. If Astarion’s mouth weren’t otherwise occupied, Wyll would be giving him as many kisses as they could both handle.
“Do you feel that?” Gale asks into Astarion’s pointed ear. “Both of us, inside you? Do you like it?”
Astarion glares at Gale. It’s nearly enough to make Wyll laugh, if the pressure around his polymorphed cock wasn’t near-maddening. Gale’s magic hands are good for more than just cooking and rubbing knots from sore backs.
“Now, now, Astarion. That’s no way to look at your lover. Can you believe how poorly-behaved he is today, Wyll?”
The look Gale gives him is nothing short of devilish.
“What a shame,” Wyll says, grinning along. His sex life has been mostly vanilla up until he was tadpoled. Gale and Astarion have been interesting additions to it. Unexpected, but not unwelcome, unlike some parts of their journey.
“We were more than willing to go easy on you, Astarion, but you’re making this difficult for yourself.”
Wyll fucks his hips up into Astarion’s tight hole. His cock presses against Gale’s. He groans in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open. Astarion paints such a beautiful portrait of helpless pleasure.
Gale’s eyes find his, warm and delightful. The veins beneath his eyes stand out more against his flushed skin.
Taking two lovers has never been Wyll’s thing. He’s not that type of man. And yet, here he is, perfectly happy with his two power-hungry lovers, a tadpole in his brain, and the body of a devil. Things have happened to Wyll that he could never have conceived of before.
“May I?” Wyll asks.
“You may.” Gale’s eyes crinkle with a smile.
His lips are rough from chewing on them as he concentrates. Wyll could spend hours mapping out how the textures feel against his own lips. He kisses Gale how he wishes he could kiss Astarion right now, with all the passion roiling in his body. Even Avernus wasn’t as hot as the men before him.
Gale’s hand finds his way to one horn, maneuvering Wyll’s head as he sees fit, all while thrusting into Astarion’s hole at a consistent tempo. The sounds they both make could rival Astarion’s.
When they pull away, their breath comes in harsh gasps.
“Shit,” Wyll breathes. “Guess I should sleep with a goddess. See if I can learn what you have.”
“Just sleep with me instead. Less of a likelihood of being struck down for a minor slight.”
Astarion digs his nails into Wyll’s hips and gives him an annoyed look as though to remind him that he’s meant to be the main attraction today.
“I think he wants it harder,” Wyll says.
“Mm. Yes, I believe so.” Gale runs his hand along one of Astarion’s sharp, beautiful hip bones, then grips one for purchase.
His harsh thrusts make both of his lovers cry out.
Wyll holds Astarion’s other hip and the thigh opposite as he attempts to match Gale’s pace. In theory, it’s methodical. Astarion should never be empty. They should work as a duo.
In practice, though, it’s difficult for Wyll to focus on both the feeling of something against his dick (which he only has for sex as is therefore not as accustomed to sensation as Gale’s) and maintaining a rhythm that matches Gale’s.
Astarion’s lithe body rocks with both of their movements. A flush colors his skin from pure white to pink, from the roots of his hair to his chest. The room is hot with their combined lovemaking.
They could make it hotter.
“Should we remove the gag?” Wyll asks.
“And why would we do that?” Gale asks, even though Astarion nods hard.
Wyll drags his thumb through the spit dripping from Astarion’s mouth. “Because,” he says, slowly grinding into Astarion’s hole, “I want everyone near us to listen to him scream.”
Gale’s pupils dilate like Darkness has been cast in them. “Cheeky bastard.”
Wyll grins.
“It seems you’re lucky today, Astarion. I’ve been convinced to be merciful.” Gale carefully unhooks the gag with the practiced ease of someone who has done this many times before. “But if you misbehave, I’ll have no choice but to punish you.”
Saliva connects the gag and Astarion’s mouth as they separate wetly. The noise that comes from Astarion is perhaps the most wanton thing Wyll has ever heard. A damp, warbling whine.
“Gods,” Wyll says, then immediately kisses Astarion hard. Even before his tongue enters Astarion’s mouth, it’s a wet kiss, damped by Astarion’s desperate saliva. There’s one thing this forked tongue is good for, and that’s sex. Any and all.
“I could watch you two go at it all day.” Gale wraps his fingers around Astarion’s pale throat. Lightly. Not quite enough to squeeze yet.
The thought of languishing Astarion with kisses all day makes Wyll groan. He fucks up into Astarion’s tight, wet heat, pressing against Gale’s cock. Hopefully he doesn’t finish yet; that would be highly embarrassing.
When Wyll pulls away, Astarion’s eyes are shiny with pleasure.
“You bastards,” he breathes, voice wobbly.
“That’s no way to thank a man who got you your tongue back.” Wyll wipes the spit from Astarion’s chin.
“What do you say to someone who helps you, Astarion?” Gale’s hand tightens on Astarion’s throat as he thrusts into him.
Astarion moans before he can reply. “I—thank you, Wyll.”
“Hm. Not good enough.”
“Thank you, daddy,” Astarion gasps instead. He holds onto Wyll’s shoulders with his sharp, manicured nails, digging them in between the ridges on his skin. “Oh, fuck.”
Fuck indeed, Wyll agrees. He’s already holding on by mere threads. Astarion calling him that nearly ended their fuck early. What a filthy mouth. Wyll doesn’t want anything less from him.
Wyll fucks into Astarion like an overexcited virgin.
“Good boy,” Gale coos.
“Yes, sir.” Astarion nearly preens at the praise. He’s so beautiful.
Gale lessens some of the pressure on Astarion’s throat. “Look at how excited you’ve gotten him, just from calling him daddy. We’ll have to use that later. For now…”
Gale runs his palm down Astarion’s smooth, flat front until he reaches Astarion’s cock. Then he avoids it entirely to instead fondle Astarion’s balls.
“You dick!”
“Patience,” Wyll breathes. He’s barely coherent enough to talk. If he finishes early, he’s certain his lovers would be kind about it, but he doesn’t want this moment to end. Perhaps if they could cast Slow throughout the entire room, they could stretch this out into an eternity.
“Patience? What do you know about patience?” Astarion snaps.
“If you suddenly had a new sex organ, you might be a little sensitive, too. I’ll Polymorph a vagina for you one day and you can see how easy it is for Wyll not to come apart.” Gale uses his other hand to pinch Astarion’s pale nipples.
Astarion gasps sharply, then digs a fang into his bottom lip. “Ooh, something new. I might like that.”
Wyll groans at the thought. Whether he has a penis or his other parts for that, he’d love to be involved with fucking Astarion’s front hole for the first time. There are plenty of sex acts Astarion has participated in; this one is new. Something Astarion has never done before.
“Looks like Wyll likes that thought. We have a new game to play, when we have the time.”
“It’s good,” Wyll promises, babbling and half-mad from the pleasure of it all. “I can only imagine being inside you when you’re—”
He has to stop to concentrate on not finishing early.
“Fuck. That turns you on so much?” Gale grips Astarion’s dick around the base. “If I knew that you were into magic sex, I would have slept with you at the Tiefling party, and every night after.”
“What about me? I’ve wanted to eat him from the beginning.” Astarion runs his hands down Wyll’s front. “That neck, those collarbones, the hero act…”
“Bite him,” Gale commands.
“Bite me,” Wyll gasps. He pulls on Astarion’s hair.
Astarion presses his lips against Wyll’s collarbone, kissing along the bone until he begins dragging his warm, wet tongue along Wyll’s sweating skin. Wyll lets his head roll back to give him better purchase and closes his eyes. The sharpness of Astarion’s bite reminds him that, despite being “helpless” between Wyll and Gale, Astarion is still able to kill. Without blade or spell, Astarion can use only his mouth to murder.
Gale keeps fucking Astarion, jolting his body almost uselessly.
Wyll runs his fingers through Astarion’s silky hair as he struggles to maintain his composure. “I–I don’t know how long I can—”
When Astarion pulls away from Wyll’s neck, his mouth is smeared with blood and his eyes are still clouded in pleasure. “Gods, you taste so good.”
Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.
“I’m—”
Wyll pushes fully into Astarion’s hole and finishes, covering Gale’s dick in his seed.
Astarion kisses Wyll. His mouth tastes like Wyll’s blood. He moans loudly when Gale’s hand begins moving on his dick between them.
“That’s good. Very good. I love the way your face looks as you finish, Wyll.” Gale fucks Astarion harder. Pearls of semen escape Astarion’s hole and drip down Wyll’s cock. He’s so sensitive he can only groan in pleasure-pain.
“I can feel you inside me. I can’t wait to feel him. To have you mix.”
Gale’s not the only one with a penchant for words, it seems. Astarion’s filthy mouth has Wyll’s spent cock twitching with interest.
“Next time, we might have Halsin join. See if he can put your mouth to any use.” Gale holds Astarion’s shoulders so hard they must hurt. The skin there turns completely white, despite the flush.
“Harder,” Astarion gasps.
Wyll doesn’t know if his dick can handle harder, but doesn’t have time to consider this before Gale is giving it to Astarion harder, nearly rubbing Wyll’s dick raw despite the copious amounts of lubrication.
“Gale! Shit.” Astarion rests his forehead against Wyll, just near where he’d bitten the man, and clenches hard around their cocks. “Wyll,” he breathes, raising his head from Wyll’s shoulder. Blood is now smeared against his forehead. He kisses Wyll once more, desperate, as hot seed spurts across Wyll’s stomach.
Gale groans, thrusting into Astarion a couple more times before he, too, finishes inside Astarion. He leans against Astarion’s back.
When Astarion is done kissing Wyll, Gale comes in. First lapping blood from Wyll’s lips, then entering his mouth as well, sucking on Wyll’s forked tongue.
It’s difficult to separate from Astarion, or to stop looking at him. Their combined semen drips from his red hole. He doesn’t even look embarrassed about being fucked and marked by two men, just looks at them both like he’s already willing to go again, despite being soft.
Once they’re all cleaned (and Astarion is plugged, per his own insistence), Gale and Wyll bracket Astarion once again. The room must reek of sex. They’ll air it out later, once they’re less exhausted from their activities.
Wyll traces invisible constellations along Astarion’s pale chest. Astarion is angled so his head rests directly over Gale’s heartbeat. Gale has an arm over both of them, rubbing his thumb against Wyll’s shoulder.
“Has this experience made you want a permanent genital change, Wyll?” Gale asks, voice a little sleepy.
Wyll laughs softly, nose buried in Astarion’s rosemary-scented hair. “I might need more convincing.”
“Oh, darling, we can convince.” Astarion rests his hand on top of Wyll’s, trapping it in one place, and laces their fingers together.
This is a good thing, between them all. A very good thing. Not just because of the sex. Wyll really hopes they all survive this.