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Lucanis tried to recall how exactly he had ended up here.

Here being sandwiched between Rook and Emmrich, the two mages taking turns kissing the side of his neck and throat, the collar of his meticulously ironed shirt unbuttoned and now wrinkled. A whine lodged in his throat when Rook sucked a mark over his collarbone, his clever fingers quickly working over the rest of the buttons on Lucanis’ vest and shirt, while Emmrich ran a hand down his flank, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over his hipbone.

“Rook, don’t overwhelm him right from the start,” Emmrich admonished softly, “We don’t want to scare him away, do we?”

Rook playfully nipped at the mark he had sucked on Lucanis’ skin before he withdrew away, his hooded eyes glinting merrily. His lips were ruddy and shiny, and Lucanis’ eyes hungrily tracked the quick flash of tongue when Rook licked them.

“No, we definitely don’t want that.” Rook agreed.

“Stop talking about me like I’m some stray cat you lured out of hiding.” Lucanis grumbled, already missing the heat of Rook’s mouth on his skin.

“Stray cats are easier to win over, I think.”

“Rook, really!”

The exasperation in Emmrich’s voice made Lucanis laugh under his breath.

“Sorry, sorry!” Rook took Lucanis’ hand and pressed a tender kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist. “For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you chose to be here with us, truly.” He murmured, his lips brushing over the sensitive, thin skin of Lucanis’ wrist, tracing the veins there.

Lucanis swallowed. Right. That’s how he had ended up here.

Over the weeks and weeks of travelling and living together, after hurling themselves from one crisis to another, Lucanis had found himself slowly, but surely falling for the older mages of their group.

At first, his infatuation had been directed only towards Rook, the Spellblade’s dry humour and empathy cracking his armour and dissipating the clouds of doom that had an unsavoury tendency to gather inside Lucanis’ head. The exhilarating sight of him leaping at their enemies with a furious crackle of lighting, just so he could rip them to shreds with magic and blades alike, made Lucanis’ heart gallop in his chest, incapable of disagreeing when Spite had almost reverently whispered “Oh. We like this one!”

Rook was half a head taller than him, and the first wisps of grey that streaked through his waves of dark hair and the faint crow’s feet that crinkled the corners of Rook’s eyes when he smiled hinted that the mage was a few years older than Lucanis. He was originally from Antiva as well, but he hailed from the capital city itself instead of Treviso. Lucanis had gathered from his stories that Rook came from a noble bloodline (or a rich one, at the least) but he'd left all that behind when he had run away from home at a young age. Apparently, he had done so to avoid an arranged marriage, and he had adopted a new surname when he had joined the Lords of Fortunes so his family couldn’t track him down.

True to his Antivan heritage, Rook was also an incorrigible flirt. But Lucanis had grown up with Illario, who couldn’t breathe without flirting, so he had learned to recognize when flirting was just meaningless drivel, and when it held some deeper meaning. Whenever Rook flashed those toothy grins at him, Lucanis could swear that he saw that deeper kind of warmth in his dark eyes, that his sweetly spoken words were not just empty platitudes.

Then Emmrich had joined their merry band of god-killing lunatics. While at first Lucanis had thought the presence of a necromancer off-putting (Really! All that hard work, and somebody could just waltz in and reanimate his targets?), he came to find that he didn’t mind Emmrich’s company, and eventually he found himself even welcoming it.

Emmrich had a soothing effect on Spite, an endlessly patient way of handling the demon’s tantrums and questions, and Lucanis had to admit that the necromancer wasn’t hard on the eyes either. He was even taller than Rook, but while Rook had more muscularity to his build, Emmrich was lither, slender like a willow. Where Rook’s manoeuvres in battle were like those of a striking viper, sudden and powerful, Emmrich’s were filled with a dancer’s grace, mesmerizing to look at. He was sophisticated, his movements careful but theatrical – and awfully endearing when he got excited over something, talking with his hands as much as with his voice.

Of course, Lucanis had also noticed how Emmrich and Rook started to gravitate towards each other, bonding over magic and artifacts, their conversations and theories about the Fade during their excursions flying over Lucanis’ head most of the time, even if he enjoyed listening to them.

So, much as his heart ached, he respectfully backed off, keeping to the background during their trips. Spite, as was his nature, pitched a massive tantrum over his decision.

“Look. LOOK. Look at. Rook!” Spite hissed. “Smells of. Hurt. Confusion. Why? Fix it!”

But Lucanis only grit his teeth. After all, he had a god to kill and a contract to fulfil. Better to bury his sentimentality before it got him fatally distracted.

It wasn’t until much later – after Renata had been dealt with and the hurt of his cousin’s betrayal had morphed into a slowly simmering rage, after Rook had saved him from the shipwreck of his own mind – that his buried feelings finally culminated into a point he couldn’t readily ignore. Lucanis had asked Rook and Emmrich to come with him to confront Illario at the Opera House, needing their steadfastness especially now. His feelings had become a jumbled mess inside him; the relief of finding Caterina alive eased the sharp pain of his brother’s cousin’s betrayal, but it mixed in with the bittersweet joy of seeing Rook and Emmrich walk the halls of his family home like they belonged there. And overlaying all that was the faded memories of grief from his childhood; the faint ghosts of a father’s smile, a mother’s embrace.   

And then, in some sick final effort to make Lucanis hurt where it mattered the most, Illario went after Rook.

Rook, who had focused his attention on the Venatori circling the duelling Crows.

Rook, who fell with a cry of pain, a bright burst of blood arching into the air from the slash on his chest.

This time Lucanis didn’t hold Spite back as he flew into a howling fury. Incapacitating his cousin was almost an afterthought in his hurry to get to Rook, but some familial sentimentality stayed Lucanis’ blade enough that the blow wasn’t fatal. Teia and Viago – Maker bless them – moved to restrain Illario while Lucanis dropped down to his knees beside Rook. Trembling hands flew to his belt where he kept his potions and salves, and he hastily slathered healing concoctions over the laceration that steadily tried to pump Rook’s life-essence away.

His hands were tacky with blood and bitter-smelling salve, and he muttered prayers to any gods who would listen as he kept pressure on the wound. A heartbeat or two later, and the medicine finally took, slowing the bleeding to a trickle. Rook stirred from his stupor just as Emmrich ran over to them, dropping to his knees as well, ignoring the blood that soaked into his robes.

“Rook,” Emmrich whispered brokenly, his face paler than usual as he gathered the other mage into his arms, a swirl of green enveloping them as he drew from the Fade and bolstered the healing with his own magic, until the bleeding finally stopped.

Lucanis’ palm was still pressed against Rook’s chest, and he could feel the heat radiating from skin that had started to knit itself back together, seeping through the leather of his glove. He started to pull his hand back, an apology ready on his tongue, but he stilled when Rook grasped his wrist, his eyes fluttering open and piercing Lucanis with a hazy gaze.

“Thank you, cariño.” Rook sighed out.

Lucanis’ heart stuttered in his chest. And then it nearly stopped when Emmrich placed his hand over his, squeezing it, an achingly fond smile on his face as he looked at Lucanis, the softness in his eyes that was usually reserved for Rook now aimed at him.

Lucanis might have done something stupid, like kissed one or both of them, if his grandmother hadn’t arrived just then, demanding everybody’s attention. He pulled himself up reluctantly, he and Emmrich helping Rook to his feet, supporting him until he gathered enough strength to stand on his own.

The rest of the evening was a blur after Caterina declared him the new First Talon; goblets of wine were thrust into his still bloodied hands, one person after another congratulating him on his new position, while Teia and Viago whispered to each other and gave meaningful glances at the pair of mages that at any given moment seemed to be faintly touching his arm or the small of his back.

Finally, his head still swimming from the fading adrenaline and alcohol, they managed to slip away from the celebrations, back to the Lighthouse. The evening had stretched into a dim night even here in the Fade, and their other companions had already retired to their rest by the time they arrived. Rook and Emmrich trailed behind him, settling to sit at the long dining table while Lucanis brewed strong coffee for Rook and himself, and a cup of tea for Emmrich.

Silence, not oppressive nor uncomfortable, blanketed them in the kitchen while they sat together sipping at their steaming drinks. Even Spite was silent for once, curious eyes tracking the humans.

Slowly, like one would approach a skittish animal, Rook extended his hand towards him, settling it over Lucanis’ own, like Emmrich had done back at the Opera House. Lucanis exhaled softly at the touch of bare skin, the faint crackle of electricity that so often surrounded Rook making the hairs of his forearm stand on their end. He turned his hand over, offering his palm, grasping at Rook’s hand like a lifeline.

“Rook, I… “ Lucanis started, but the words wouldn’t come forth.

“Lucanis.” Rook’s voice was low and scratchy, and the soft light of the oil lamps danced warmly in his dark eyes. He licked his lips before he continued, his eyes dropping to look at their joined hands.

“You have… Become very important to me. To us.” Rook absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over the small nicks and cuts that had accumulated over Lucanis’ life. Emmrich’s long leg pressed against Lucanis’ thigh, offering a solid point of contact. Lucanis wondered if they could hear the thundering of his heart, the rapid, hopeful fluttering of it.

“And correct me, if I’m wrong,” Emmrich continued where Rook had left off, “But I do believe that the feeling is mutual...?” His voice was hopeful, fragile even. It made Lucanis’ chest ache with some unnamed feeling.

“Yes.” Spite hissed from the corner before Lucanis could open his mouth. “He thinks. And. Thinks. But does not. Act. Why? We want to kiss. You. Both!” The demon came to prowl around the table, anxiously fluttering back and forth.

Lucanis groaned and ran a hand down his reddening face. Emmrich laughed, a breathy sound that betrayed his relief.  

“Well, that answers that! But I would like to hear it from you as well, my dear.” Emmrich said.

Lucanis dropped his hand from his face.

“I have found myself drawn to you both, yes. But I thought you two were already…“

“Oh, we have discussed this at length, and both Rook and I have agreed that we have enough space in our hearts for another soul. Well, and a third, when you count Spite. Ah, of course, I understand if this would be too much or too cumbersome and you’d rather not-” Emmrich tapered off, nervously twisting the now empty teacup in his hands.

“No! I… I like you both. Very much.” Lucanis hurried to say before Spite could blurt out just how much time he spent fantasizing about the two mages before him. “But why bring this up now? Not that I’m complaining, mierda, I just- This evening has been full of life-altering surprises.” Lucanis huffed out. Maybe he did need more alcohol after all.

“Well. Near death experiences tend to bring that out in a man. We did plan on seducing you properly, with wine and flowers, maybe a serenade or two-“

“Rook.” Emmrich sighed.

Rook smiled crookedly, thin lines wrinkling the corners of his eyes. Lucanis longed to kiss the dimples that formed on his cheeks. Maybe he could, soon, judging by the direction of this conversation.

“Jests aside, this evening really did put things into perspective, more than they already were. We’re fighting against gods. There’s no telling what tomorrow might bring, and I’m not so naïve as to believe that we’ll all make it when this is over. I don’t want to die with regrets, Lucanis.” Rook’s hold on his hand tightened.

“But we’re not offering this lightly, either, you must know this, my dear.” Emmrich said. “We’re not talking about a brief moment of passion and then parting ways. I… We would be very pleased if you’d share more than that with us.”

Lucanis swallowed thickly. Was he allowed to want this? To have this? These two brilliant men that exasperated him as much as they brought him joy? The memory of Rook’s blood staining the flagstones of the Opera House flashed in his eyes, the taste of almost losing him lingering bitterly in his mouth. The grief-stricken look on Emmrich’s face as he held Rook.

“I’d like that as well. To share more with you both, I mean.” Lucanis finally said.

Rook smiled brightly at him, and Emmrich relaxed noticeably.

“YES. Now kiss!”  Spite shouted victoriously.

Lucanis jolted back to the present when a harsh nip to his throat made him moan brokenly, his hips bucking up against Rook.

Yesterday they had been too exhausted to do anything after their talk in the kitchen, and after both mages had softly kissed him goodnight, they had retired to their own chambers. Lucanis had stayed up for what felt like hours, tracing his lips with his fingertips, the press of their gentle, almost chaste kisses haunting him to the early hours of the dawn.

But tonight, after dinner, the three of them had stumbled into Emmrich’s study, dodging precariously piled stacks of books and artifacts, slipping inside the lavishly decorated bedroom that was hidden behind another door. Yesterday’s chasteness was a faint memory. Rook’s kisses tasted like the fragrant ammazzacaffè he’d had after dinner, and Emmrich’s like the bergamot and orange blossoms in his tea. Their kisses were intoxicating like finely aged wine, and just as warming, spreading heat through Lucanis’ veins.

“What do you want to do, Lucanis? Fuck me? Emmrich? Have one of us fuck you?” Rook asked him between hungry kisses.

Lucanis felt dizzy, his brain scrambling to form a coherent answer.

“Mierda, I- ah, I don’t…” A flush rose high on his already warm cheeks. “I don’t really know, to be honest. I haven’t really…Done this before.” Lucanis confessed.

“Really?” Rook looked at him incredulously. Lucanis wanted to shrink out of existence, humiliation burning low on his belly, mixing in with his arousal.

“And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.” Emmrich said firmly, squeezing Lucanis’ hip reassuringly.

“Of course not,” Rook resumed his kissing, a tad slower now, more sensual. “Surprised me, that’s all. You’re such a handsome man after all, corazón.”

Lucanis whimpered into his mouth, some incomprehensible word he wasn’t sure of himself.

“We could… Take the lead, if you would be amenable to that, my dear.” There was the slightest hitch to Emmrich’s voice. He cleared his throat. “And you can always ask us to slow down or stop completely if it becomes too much, at any given time, I promise.”

Lucanis breathed out heavily, a different kind of warmth settling inside his chest. All his life he had been crushed under the expectations of his House. The pressure of being perfect and in control all the time, with no room for mistakes, had weighted him down from the moment his parents had been killed and his grandmother had taken over his upbringing, grooming him to be the next First Talon.

But here, in Rook’s and Emmrich’s embrace, he didn’t feel that pressure. He couldn’t sense any judgment; he wasn’t censured for his inexperience (in fact, Emmrich seemed to be almost excited over the idea). Instead, he felt… Safe. Comfortable. Like he was something precious and protected.

“Please do.” He said softly. Over the weeks Lucanis had come to know these men, had learned to trust them, just as they trusted him in turn. Should they ask, Lucanis would carve out his own heart and place it in their palms.

Rook kissed him gently again, but then the mischievous smile was back on his face.

“Do you want to call the shots this time, professor?” Rook asked with a hum, his hands slipping under Lucanis’ unbuttoned shirt, blunt nails trailing deliciously over his skin. Lucanis let his eyelids flutter, and he sighed, his head lolling back to rest on Emmrich’s shoulder.

“Well, when you ask me so nicely…” Emmrich’s voice dropped to a low, velvety timbre that reverberated pleasantly against Lucanis’ back.

“Off with your clothes, my dear Rook.”

Rook grinned and took a step back, his hands on Lucanis’ waist being replaced by Emmrich’s cooler ones, his long fingers tracing the muscles of his abdomen, making them twitch. Almost painfully slow, Rook started undressing himself, never breaking eye-contact with Lucanis as he shrugged off his shirt before he started to undo the laces of his trousers. He toed off his boots, kicking them to the side, before he slid his trousers and underwear down, stepping out of them as they pooled to the floor. He flopped down on the bed behind him with a coquettish smirk, cocking an eyebrow that seemed to ask “Well?”

“Look at him,” Emmrich murmured to Lucanis’ ear, his thin moustache tickling the shell of it, “Isn’t he beautiful?”

Lucanis could only dumbly nod, his eyes trailing the expanse of tan, scarred skin. Rook was stretched out on the bed like a satisfied cat, a tantalising display of well-defined muscles that were softly padded by a thin layer of fat, begging for Lucanis to dig his fingers in and bite and taste and take –

“Now, now, Spite. We must be patient.” Emmrich admonished with a tut, his fingers minutely tightening over Lucanis’ hips.

“Don’t want! To be. Want to. Taste!”

“All in good time, my dear. Behave.”

Spite whined petulantly but receded back. Rook, despite not hearing half of the exchange, smiled knowingly and spread his legs wider, exposing his flushed cunt so they could clearly see his arousal. Slowly, his hand creeped down his stomach, following the trail of soft dark hair that ran from his navel to his crotch. He cupped himself, grinding his palm against his small cock, sighing in pleasure.

“Such a tease.” Emmrich breathed out, his voice thick.

Lucanis’ fingers twitched, and he licked his lips that felt suddenly too dry. “Can I- would it be alright to touch?” His eyes flicked from Rook to Emmrich and back to Rook again, unsure whose permission he should be asking in this unfamiliar setting.

The teasing glint in Rook’s eyes softened. “Come here.” He extended his arm for him, and Lucanis obediently followed him to the bed, Emmrich not far behind him. Lucanis quickly removed his boots and shed away his shirt, throwing it carelessly to the side, before he pinned Rook firmly against the bed, making a pleased noise when he finally felt warm, bare skin against his own. He kissed him hungrily, and Rook’s arm came to encircle his waist, his other hand cupping the back of his neck, holding him close. Rook rolled his hips up, pressing his cunt against the erection that strained against Lucanis’ trousers, smiling against his mouth when Lucanis let out a wounded noise.

Gods, it took every ounce of self-control to not rut against him. He could feel Rook’s heat through his clothing, the dampness of his arousal seeping through it. His own cock leaked already as well, adding to the mess.

There was a faint clinking sound, clear and metallic like tiny bells, as Emmrich removed his various rings and bangles and placed them inside the finely engraved bowl on the side-table. Then, like a musician stroking their fingers over the keys of a grand piano, his fingers ran up Lucanis’ spine from the small of his back to the nape of his neck. Then he buried them into his hair, tugging it gently. Lucanis broke away from Rook with a gasp, a shiver running through him.

“May I?” Emmrich asked, cupping his face, his lips a breath away from Lucanis’ own. When Lucanis nodded, he kissed him sweetly, deepening their kiss when Lucanis flicked his tongue out to trace the seam of his lips.

“You’re doing marvellously, my dear,” Emmrich murmured to him when they broke apart. His pupils were blown wide, the hauntingly green colour of his irises only thin slivers framing them. “So patient and beautiful. I think you deserve a reward. Scoot back a bit.”

Lucanis complied, confused, retreating until he was sitting on his haunches between Rook’s legs, Emmrich settling on the bed just beside Rook. Rook’s eyes were half-lidded, and he arched into Emmrich’s touch when he ran a hand – looking oddly naked to Lucanis’ eyes without its rings and chains – down Rook’s stomach and lower belly, cupping his pubic mound before he splayed his long, elegant fingers, framing Rook’s cunt with them. Lucanis swallowed heavily as he watched Emmrich rub his fingers slowly up and down, his pointer and middle finger gently pinching Rook’s cock, making him twitch and gasp.

“I believe you wanted a taste of our darling Rook?” Emmrich asked, lazily stroking Rook’s cock between his fingers that were now slick with his arousal. “Go ahead, Lucanis.”

Lucanis shifted on the bed until he was laying on his stomach, his head between Rook’s legs, face hovering only inches from him. This close he could see the slight tremble in Rook’s thighs, as Emmrich’s hand still played with him in almost a teasing manner. He slipped his arms under Rook’s legs, canting his hips up slightly, his hands coming to grip his hips. Tentatively, he ran his tongue along the seam of Rook’s cunt, a broad swipe that began from his opening and ended in a flick against the head of his cock that was still framed by Emmrich’s fingers. He could feel Rook twitching under him, a pleased sigh escaping his lips.

Lucanis breathed out shakily after the first taste, bitter salt and heady musk filling his senses, saliva pooling inside his mouth. He closed his eyes and licked again, flattening his tongue and firmly pressing it against Rook’s cunt, already drunk with desire. He could feel Spite trembling inside his mind, purple light flickering on and off in his peripheral even with his eyes closed. He prepared to fight him off, but to his surprise Spite didn’t even try to take control of him. Instead, he settled just behind his mind, present but docile, whispering almost incoherently, just as overwhelmed from Rook’s scent and taste as Lucanis was.

“Oh, I wish you could see yourself, Lucanis, so beautiful.” Emmrich sighed out, his free hand coming to pet Lucanis’ hair, fingertips massaging his scalp. “Desire looks so good on you. Now, close your mouth over Rook’s cock and suck, but very gently, mind you. He can be awfully sensitive at times.”

Lucanis did as Emmrich asked of him, closing his lips over Rook’s cock, tongue rolling against the underside of it as he gently sucked it into his mouth. Rook moaned his name, his hips bucking up and almost knocking Lucanis off. His hands came to cradle Lucanis’ head, fingers twisting into his hair, the sharp sting against his scalp making him shudder, a whine almost slipping from his mouth.  

Rook tasted like a storm on his tongue, sharp and salty like the raging sea. The more he tasted him, the more he wanted him, needed him. Lucanis could hear Emmrich speaking something, but he was too lost to make out the words, blood thundering in his ears, his focus narrowed on making Rook moan and tremble beneath his mouth, drowning in his pleasure. His own cock throbbed, trapped between his stomach and the mattress. The temptation to grind and rut against the bed was there, but he was afraid that he would spill himself even from that, so he refrained from moving, his muscles tense from the effort.

Time seemed to lose its meaning, but soon Lucanis could sense the energy gathering deep inside Rook, could feel the beginning of an itch behind his own eyes. The fine hairs on his body rose up on their ends. He heard Emmrich speaking again, his magic joining in the tingling sensation, directing and dissipating the storm Rook unconsciously drew from the Fade.

Lucanis breathed hard through his nose, sharp and quick, his jaw starting to ache as he rolled his tongue against Rook’s cock in waves again and again, desperate to make him come on his tongue. Through the rush of blood in his ears, he heard Rook’s voice pitching up, calling out his name with a broken voice. His fingers tightened in Lucanis’ hair, his body tensing before a great shudder ran through him as he came. His cock spasmed against Lucanis’ tongue, the wetness from his arousal running down his chin. He kept lapping at Rook’s cunt, humming in satisfaction, his pleasure sweet on his tongue, until Rook weakly pushed him away.

When Lucanis finally rose from his prone position, his beard practically dripping wet, the sight that greeted him was breathtaking. Rook was trembling and flushed, a ruddy red darkening his tan complexion all the way down to his chest. One arm had been thrown over his eyes and a dazed smile graced his lips, a giddy laughter mixing in with his winded breath. Emmrich was as equally flushed, and although he still sat on the bed all prim and proper, Lucanis could see the coiled tension that betrayed his arousal.

“I thought you were supposed to be inexperienced with this?” Rook finally said when he had caught his breath, his arm dropping down from his face, peering at Lucanis with glinting eyes.

“A crow has to learn quickly.” Lucanis replied, still catching his breath as well.

“And what a marvel that was to witness! Now, I think it’s time to rid you of the rest of your clothing.” Far more gracefully than one ought to, Emmrich shuffled over to kneel behind Lucanis, while Rook remained lying on the bed, simply watching them with a fond smile. Lucanis shivered when the older mage’s fingers skimmed over his overheated skin, before he dipped them under the waistband of his trousers.

“Off with these, my dear, if you’d please.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair that we are both in the nude, while Emmrich here has removed only his jewellery and boots?” Lucanis asked Rook while he stripped down, mock grievance colouring his voice.

“Most unfair, I must admit. But his forearms are very lovely to look at in the meantime.”

“As I told Spite earlier, patience.” Emmrich said with a long-suffering sigh, but Lucanis could hear the smile in his voice.

“Rook, put some pillows under your hips, that’s a dear, just like that,” Emmrich instructed, draping himself once again over Lucanis’ back, his chin resting on his shoulder.

“And Lucanis, my sweet boy…” His hand traced a path down Lucanis’ stomach, much like he had done with Rook earlier, before his long, elegant fingers wrapped loosely around Lucanis’ cock that jumped under the touch.

“I want you to fuck Rook.”

Lucanis couldn’t tell whether it was the rarely heard obscenity falling from Emmrich’s lips, or his hand pumping lazily up and down his cock, that made his breath shudder in his lungs. Either way, he obediently followed Emmrich’s guidance, settling over Rook who drew him into his arms once more, gifting him with a kiss that was sharp and insistent.

Emmrich’s hand was still on his cock, and torturously slow he moved the length of it against Rook’s cunt, making the glans of it glide up and down between the folds before he rubbed it against Rook’s cockhead with a featherlight touch that tormented them both. Rook, still sensitive from his earlier climax, shivered under Lucanis, a faint moan vibrating up his throat.

“Fuck- Emmrich, please-“ Lucanis’ voice sounded thin and plaintive to his own ears.

Finally, Emmrich pressed the tip of Lucanis’ cock against Rook’s opening, pushing it inside. Lucanis’ breath caught in his chest as Emmrich pushed on Lucanis’ hips with his own, using his weight to force Lucanis go deeper in one smooth glide, drawing a low groan from Rook. His cunt gripped him tightly, a resplendent velvety heat surrounding him. Lucanis bowed his head until his forehead was pressed against Rook’s clavicle, his mouth forming words that wouldn’t quite come out. Emmrich’s still clothed hips were flush against his rear, and he could feel the long line of his erection pressing against him.

He was given a moment to gather his thoughts before Emmrich pulled at his hips, urging him to draw himself out of Rook, then immediately driving him back inside in one sinuous roll of hips. Lucanis let out a stuttering moan. He was trapped between them, one mage welcoming him into his tight heat, the other grinding his cock against his ass as he guided his hips into a smooth rhythm much akin to a dance, low voice whispering instructions and praise into his ear.

“I’m, I’m not going to last long-“ Lucanis warned them, his heart doing its best to beat itself out of his chest. He had already been so riled up that it was a wonder he didn’t lose himself the moment he had entered Rook, but now he could feel his end steadily nearing, pressure and warmth gathering behind his spine, his movements becoming faltering and unsteady despite Emmrich’s guidance.

Emmrich’s slipped his hand underneath Lucanis’ legs, fingertips coming to trace the area where Lucanis and Rook were joined, before his hand travelled upwards, knuckles brushing against Lucanis’ taint. He pressed his thumb lightly against Lucanis furled hole, not quite pushing it in. Lucanis went stiff for a moment, then he whimpered, a question or a plea, he wasn’t sure himself.

“Hm. Not quite ready for that yet, I think.” Emmrich muttered against his skin, his teeth scraping the meat of Lucanis’ shoulder where he left warm, wet kisses. But he kept his thumb where it was, circling Lucanis’ twitching hole, every now and then pressing down like a promise.

Lucanis’ reality morphed into nothing else but noise and heat and movement. Rook’s sighs of pleasure, the sound of skin meeting skin, Emmrich’s words. Teeth gently biting into his shoulder, his neck. Warmth surrounding him, adoring hands travelling along his form. He was drowning. He was floating. He had been lost for a year inside the Ossuary, inside his own mind. Here, he was found. Here, he would gladly lose himself again and again, become undone and dissolve until he would become one with his lovers.

“It’s okay, cariño, you can come.” Rook murmured to him, his lips brushing the shell of Lucanis’ ear.

Lucanis let out a sound that was closer to a sob than a moan, and he let himself go. He shuddered as warmth swept over him like a great wave, stealing his breath away. His hips snapped against Rook once, twice, before he buried himself as deep as he could push, trembling from the force of his climax. He gasped for breath and crumpled against Rook, burying his face against the juncture of his neck.            

He stayed there in a boneless heap, mouthing kisses and wordless endearments against Rook’s damp skin. Emmrich removed himself from where he was pressed against Lucanis, making him shiver when cool air replaced his warmth. Rook’s hand played with his hair, the other tracing meaningless symbols and runes over his back. Lucanis could hear them talking softly, mind too muddy to make out anything else but snippets of words and the rustle of clothing.

Then Rook moved the two of them so that they were laying on their sides, Lucanis’ softening cock slipping out from him. Lucanis made a disgruntled sound and buried his face back against Rook’s chest, inhaling his scent, the sharp smell of elfroot still lingering there. His faculties had returned enough to him that he could sense Emmrich settling himself behind Rook on the bed. Rook moaned softly, and Lucanis blinked blearily, batting away the sleepiness that tried to weight down his eyelids.

He withdrew from Rook just enough that he could see Emmrich, now equally naked as them (his clothes neatly folded and piled on a nearby settee, naturally), spooning Rook from behind. His throat worked when he saw that Rook had thrown his leg over Emmrich’s thigh, keeping himself spread open as Emmrich languidly fucked him. Lucanis’ cock gave a valiant twitch as he watched his own seed dripping out from Rook’s cunt, as Emmrich’s cock – slimmer, but longer than Lucanis’ own – slid in and out of him.

Emmrich looked debauched, his carefully coiffed hair now in a disarray, strands of them sticking to his sweaty temples. A bright flush coloured his pale countenance, and his mouth hang open as he panted. Lucanis’ eyes flickered from the open pleasure on their faces to their joining below, wanting to witness it all.

Beautiful. They were simply beautiful.

His fingers felt clumsy as he brough them to Rook’s cock, his thumb rubbing against it. He was immediately rewarded with a stuttering moan, and he could see how Rook tightened around Emmrich, driving a similar sound out of him in turn.    

Emboldened, he kept rubbing at Rook’s cock, once again following the rhythm that Emmrich had set, slow and languid at first, but turning into something quicker soon after. He kissed his way from Rook’s sternum up to his throat, lavishing him with open mouthed kisses and bites that would bruise tomorrow, before he kissed his lips, stealing his moans from his mouth. Then he propped himself up on his elbow – careful to keep his other hand from breaking its rhythm on Rook’s cock – so he could kiss Emmrich as well. Emmrich whimpered into his mouth, his rhythm gaining urgency, his grip on Rook’s hip tightening.

Rook shouted as he came a second time, the sound turning to a hoarse wail when Lucanis didn’t cease the movement of his hand on his cock. But he didn’t ask him to stop, so Lucanis kept up the pace, stroking his oversensitive cock between his fingers, slick dripping between them. Rook trembled, hitching moans driven out of him as Emmrich fucked him harder, now chasing his own release.  

“Oh, oh, Maker’s breath-“ Emmrich gasped out. Then he bit down onto his lower lip, eyes screwing shut as he came with a near silent whimper. His hips grinded against Rook for a moment, until he halted, a great sigh heaving out of him as he drew Rook tighter against his chest. He groaned weakly when Rook kept pulsing around him, Lucanis’ hand still mercilessly teasing his cock. Emmrich pulled himself out, but when he saw that Lucanis was still intent on coaxing a third orgasm out of Rook, he replaced it with his long fingers, crooking them rhythmically inside Rook.

Emmrich muttered his adorations into Rook’s skin, pressing urgent kisses on his neck and cheek, to his lips. Together, he and Lucanis brought him to the brink for the third time. Rook cried out in pleasure as much as he cursed them with a colourful mix of Trade and Antivan swears that made Lucanis chuckle and Emmrich gasp in mock scandal. Lucanis’ wrist was aching when Rook finally came, his hand immediately coming to clutch at Lucanis’ hand and wrenching it away from him so he wouldn’t keep going, still spasming from the aftershocks.

Emmrich wiped his hand on a handkerchief, but Lucanis brough his own hand to his lips, licking away the slick that clung to his fingers, a smug grin on his face. It wasn’t the most pleasing taste, the acridness of his and Emmrich’s seed mixing in with Rook’s wetness, but it still made his half-hard cock stir.

“Forget risen gods and their lackeys, I am going to get killed in my own bed at this point.” Rook grumbled, his eyes following Lucanis’ movements like a hawk.

“Well, technically this is my bed, dear-” Emmrich started.

“And you did invite an assassin to share it-“ Lucanis continued, but his sentence got cut off by muffled laughter as Rook half-heartedly tried to smother him with an embroidered pillow.

“Ah well, for gold and glory, I guess.” Rook flopped back on the bed, but he was soon shooed off by Emmrich who demanded that they clean up and change the sheets, bristling at the thought of sleeping on a wet spot.

When they were as clean as they could get without a bath, and they had shared a pitcher of crisp, cold water between them, the three of them settled back on the bed. Emmrich had changed into soft, luxurious pyjamas, whereas Lucanis had grimaced at the damp state of his underwear and decided to sleep naked. Rook, apparently, slept in the nude every night.

Sleep beckoned Lucanis, and for the first time in over a year he wasn’t reluctant to close his eyes. Spite seemed satisfied for the moment, even if he hadn’t taken a more active role. When Lucanis curled between his two lovers, he could feel Spite unfurling his wings, his fade-feathers blanketing them.

“Smells like. Happiness.” Spite’s voice was soft, wondering.

Yes, Lucanis answered as he drifted to sleep.

He was glad that he had ended up here.