Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s cold under the light of the full moon. Exposed and open, he should be shivering but as it is, Rain is sweating as he takes his place on his knees and bows his head. Tonight is their moon, the one that sways the impulses of every water Ghoul and pulls them by the thread of desire that ties them all together.

Not every full moon has an effect, but the hilarity of the Hunter’s Moon being the one to draw so heavily on the water Ghouls isn’t lost to Rain.

There aren’t that many of them, only a handful left in the abbey, and Copia pushing off further summoning until Sunshine is settled in. So it’s him and a few others who kneel at the altar under the crisp, bright light of the moon, hedged in by the woods and the lake to two sides and open field on the other two. He keeps his head down and his eyes shut, and does his best to listen to Papa bless them.

His skin is already crawling, has been since he got up this morning. The pull of the moon is strong even in the daylight but now that the sun has set and the sky is clear and cold and illuminated by nothing but the full moon overhead, the itch inside of him is overwhelming. The need in his belly growing too strong to ignore.

Papa presses a hand to the top of his head and then cups both of his cheeks.

There is a shameful tug in his groin when Copia lifts his head and smiles down at him. He doesn’t want to know what Papa sees when he looks at him. His hands shake in his lap and his teeth chatter before he bites down hard enough to stop it.

“Careful, yes?” Papa murmurs, his accent curling around the words and prickling at Rain’s brainstem.

He nods jerkily and drops his gaze when Copia lets go, placing his hand on the head of the ghoul to his left.

Once Copia has blessed them, he disappears back along the path that leads to the abbey, engulfed into darkness and leaving them alone to their ritual. There are six of them that rise to their feet and look at one another. Each of them has the same dazed, glassy look to their eyes that Rain knows is reflected back at them. The only other male-presenting Ghoul with him is hard and when Rain looks down at himself he realizes that he is too.

Breaking away from the group at the altar, he turns and walks on unsteady feet back to the bonfire at the shore of the lake. It feels like an out-of-body experience, watching himself as he goes. Rain is not altogether present anymore, his mind lost in the fog of the other Ghouls noticing their arrival.

It’s hot, despite the frostbitten air settling over the night. The fire blazing at the center of the gathering helps but the heat comes from under Rain’s shirt, creeping up along his neck and over his exposed arms. His skin steams where it meets the air and he sucks in a frozen breath, holding it while it burns away at his lungs.

The other Ghouls artfully ignore them as they filter in, spreading out and searching. The tradition is a strong one and no one dares break it by speaking to them until spoken to. The water Ghouls will seek out a partner to help relieve them and then Rain probably won’t remember the rest of the night. He barely knows where he is now.

Masked and unmasked faces pause to stare at him as he passes by, sweat prickling at his forehead and temples, dampening the hair there. Rain tries his best to not touch anyone as he weaves his way toward the edges of the group, trying to put as much distance between himself and the fire as possible. He already feels like he’s burning up from the inside out.

He waits for the tug, the inevitable pull toward someone who will ease him through the night.

Without realizing what he’s doing, he latches onto the bicep of the Ghoul he stops beside, digging in with his claws and shuddering at the woodsy scent that invades his nostrils. It’s familiar, comfortable, settling an ache low in his back. A clawed hand covers his and he doesn’t want to shirk it off. He leans into it when another hand cups his cheek, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Rain?”

It’s Aether.

Rain lets out a low, shaky moan and leans into him further. Aether turns him and ducks his head, trying to catch his eye but Rain can’t keep his head up properly. He’s so hard he can barely stand it.

“You with me?” Aether presses, his voice quiet and steady. Rain nods. “Yeah? You want… you want this? With me?”

Rain forces his head up even though his neck feels wobbly and meets Aether’s gaze. He doesn’t have his mask on so Rain can look him in the eye with ease. He puts both hands on Aether’s neck and nods.

“Yes.”

There’s no question what his gut is telling him: it’s Aether. His brain is offline and his moon-driven instincts are at the wheel but he knows what the tug in his gut means, the heat and tightness in his chest as his heart skips into overdrive. It has to be Aether.

A thick arm wraps around his shoulders and Rain lets himself be pulled in against his chest. Both of his hands fist in the soft, worn material of Aether’s shirt and he closes his eyes, taking a dizzying breath to inhale his scent.

It’s safe. It’s right.

Aether palms the back of his head, holding him steady as Rain comforts himself with the familiarity of him, that he won’t have to wonder what is happening or who is taking care of him.

A warm hand presses against the small of his back, under his shirt. His skin is tacky with sweat but Aether doesn’t seem to mind. He just holds on while Rain presses his face to Aether’s throat and breathes him in.

“You’re okay,” Aether assures him, his voice deep and steady, sounding like a wrecking ball to the knees.

Other Ghouls pass by around them but don’t come close. The low murmur of quiet conversation is steadily overtaken by raucous shouts and loud voices as the liquor starts to flow. Rain thinks he can hear the sound of someone getting fucked nearby and Rain shudders, still grounding himself in the feeling of Aether.

Another scent trickles in. One equally as strong and cloying, adding to the fog overtaking his brain.

Rain sets his teeth against Aether’s shoulder and cracks his eyes open to find Dewdrop standing a few feet behind them, mask on and a glass of something dark in his hands. He’s not even pretending to not be watching them.

A searing tug in his gut has him groaning and Aether leaning back, reaching for his head, his brows furrowed together. Following Rain’s gaze, he finds Dewdrop rooted in place nearby with the corners of his mouth pulling downward.

“You want…” Aether trails off, tipping his head in Dewdrop’s direction. There’s a thread of disappointment in his tone and Rain can’t find blame with him for it. Being chosen on the night of a full moon ritual is both an honor and a power trip. He wouldn’t want someone to toss him aside either.

Rain shakes his head. “Both,” he murmurs.

Aether raises his brows. “Me and Dew?”

Rain’s knees nearly buckle at hearing it spoken out loud. He doesn’t fully suppress the whimper that bubbles up in his throat, closing his eyes when it reaches his ears.

“Yeah,” Aether whispers, tightening the arm around his back. He understands what Rain needs.

The ache in his groin is becoming unbearable. Rain turns his head into Aether, who meets him with a kiss, those big hands gentle on his chin and digging into his ribs.

Another set of hands press into his hips and then there is a much smaller, hotter body pressing against his back. Rain’s legs threaten to give beneath him and he leans into Aether, barely able to breathe for how hard he’s got his nose pressed against his cheek.

A hand on his chin pulls him back, leaving him gasping, mouth open and wet and spit trailing from his bottom lip to Aether’s. Dewdrop smears a hand over his mouth, snapping the strand, and turning him with a hand on his jaw. Rain tries to kiss him but Dewdrop’s mask is still on, making it difficult to get at his mouth.

The tips of his fangs glint in the moonlight as he parts his lips and sticks his tongue out for Rain to suck on.

“Don’t tease him, you ass.”

Rain leans back after him when Aether pushes Dewdrop’s head away. The arm around him holds him steady even as he leans against it with his full weight. It’s not lost on him how sturdy and strong Aether is, even if the knowledge usually sits unused at the back of his brain.

Dewdrop holds out his arm, gesturing away from the crowd of Ghouls who haven’t thinned out around them. Rain is painfully aware of how many sets of eyes are on them and he’d like to just get to the part where he’s too far gone in his own pleasure to care.

Aether walks him further out into the clearing. They’re not alone—they’re not supposed to be, they’re supposed to share in this experience with everyone around them—but still, there is no one uncomfortably close as Rain stumbles to his knees in the grass and looks up at them.

Rain leans into Aether’s thigh as his hand cradles the back of his head, scratching at his hair.

“Take your mask off,” Aether says.

The sound of the chin strap coming undone sends a shudder down Rain’s spine. He looks up, teeth digging into his own lips as Dewdrop tugs his mask up over his head; it dangles from his fingers before dropping to the ground. Rain watches it rock in place for a moment and go still.

Dewdrop lowers himself to his knees in front of Rain and tips his head back. The press of his claws down the front of Rain’s throat makes his entire body shake.

“Please,” he gasps. “Please.”.

Aether holds him steady by his hair and Dewdrop leans in to kiss him. Finally. Full and proper and so sickeningly slow and sweet that Rain would rather he stop than continue on like this. Reaching out, he grabs Dewdrop by the head and kisses him harder, trying to goad him into a quicker pace.

“Easy,” Aether murmurs, getting to his knees beside them.

Dewdrop stops kissing him altogether and Rain lets out a pained sound, turning to Aether instead. A hand covers his mouth again and turns him back.

“Don’t turn away from me.”

“Fuck you.” Rain has never felt this keyed up before. He’s never sought out two Ghouls on the night of a ritual. No moon has carried this intense weight with it and he hardly knows what to do next. “Touch me.”

Aether presses against his back, spreading Rain’s knees open with his own until he’s sat back against his lap. Dewdrop leans up over him and kisses him, just as maddeningly slow as before. He pushes until Rain’s head is tipped back onto Aether’s shoulder. There is a mouth at his neck, sharp teeth digging into his pulse. And hands, finally, at the button of his jeans.

One big hand palms him over the fabric and then slides up over his belly and down.

Rain clenches his eyes shut as Aether touches him, jerking him slowly, carefully in the tight confines of his jeans. He can’t take it, it’s way too much. He tears away from Dewdrop’s mouth, gasping as he grabs at Aether’s wrist in a desperate attempt to stop its movement.

“Wait, wait—ahh!”

With one final stroke, Rain is coming, fast and humiliating inside his jeans.

Aether bites down on his neck and Dewdrop watches him intently, making the heat in his cheeks flare hotter.

“No,” Rain gasps even as he bucks up into Aether’s sticky fist. “No.”

“Shh, you’re good, Rain. It’s good, it’s okay.”

A miserable whimper leaves him as Aether slips his hand out of his jeans. Even worse, there are tears wetting his eyelashes as he forces his eyes open again. He wants to crawl away from them or hide his face but the two of them bracket him between them, holding him steady as he shakes through the remnants of his orgasm. They’re both focused intently on him, not even giving him a moment to recover from the shame of having come within seconds of being touched.

Aether’s wet hand presses against his lips, a question that Rain is too miserable to not answer. He opens his mouth and sucks the offered fingers in, tasting himself. Aether rubs against him, his dick hard against the small of Rain’s back and there’s that at least. He’s not the only one suffering.

Dewdrop’s hands take over where Aether abandoned his jeans, getting them open and tugging them down to mid-thigh while Aether sucks the taste of Rain’s come off of his tongue.

Neither of them seem to care or they at least understand what the push and pull of the moon feels like. Even if it’s notoriously more intense for water ghouls because of the tidal influence the lunar bodies hold over the water they control.

“How do you want it?” Aether asks as Dewdrop lowers his head between Rain’s legs.

He’s not prepared for the hot slide of his mouth and he’d have bucked up if Aether wasn’t pinning him down by the hips.

“I don’t know,” he gasps, thrashing his head to the side when Dewdrop sucks him slowly.

His cock is still sensitive from coming only moments ago. It’s the sweetest sort of agony when he doesn’t stop, head bobbing between his legs with relentless rhythm.

Aether cards his claws through his hair and holds him in place, biting at Rain’s fluttering pulse. He feels like he’s going to hyperventilate.

“Tell us,” Aether insists, his voice reverberating through Rain’s throat.

Rain grasps at Dewdrop with both hands, holding his shoulder and pulling at his hair.

“Stop, stop, please.”

The pressure in his balls is already overwhelming. He can’t come again so soon; he would rather fucking die than face them after that.

Dewdrop pulls off of his cock, letting his tongue trail up over the head in a filthy show, saliva dripping from his open mouth and the sharp points of his teeth. Rain’s hips buck without him meaning to.

“Rain,” Aether says, his voice low and rough but edged with eternal patience.

“I don’t know,” Rain groans, rubbing at his eyes with both hands. “I can’t think like this. Just… fuck me.”

Aether scratches at his scalp as Rain knuckles the moisture out of his eyes. Dewdrop lifts his shirt and together they wrangle him out of it.

“Need us both, huh?” he asks when he gets close to Rain’s ear. It’s goading and tinged with a teasing sort of meanness but Dewdrop kisses him after he says it and Rain can’t form a coherent thought anymore.

He just nods.

They work together to strip him, lying him out naked under the moon with his chest heaving and his dick hard against his hip. His breath curls up above him before disappearing, hands touching him everywhere. He would feel ridiculous if there was any shame left in him. Aether takes him by his hips and rolls him over. The grass is mostly dead and frozen, prickling at his forearms and knees as Aether bends him into position, chest down and his legs spread.

His own fangs pierce his forearm when Aether licks up from his balls to his hole in one long, wet glide. Aether holds him by his hips and buries his face against him. The sounds he makes are muffled but still echo in his own ears.

The hot pulse between his legs is almost overwhelming, too much to ignore, but his arms feel stiff against the cold ground and he can’t reach for himself.

Dewdrop threads his long fingers through Rain’s hair and drags the claws of his other hand over the swell of his ass, digging in hard enough that there are sure to be red lines trailing over his skin when all is said and done. Mercifully, he does what Rain doesn’t have the brain function to do and reaches for his dick.

It only takes a moment with Aether’s tongue in his ass and Dewdrop’s fist around him before he’s coming again.

There’s no relief behind it, the heat in his belly still pulsing and his cock still hard even as Dewdrop lets go, trailing sticky fingers up over his hip to his back. Rain lets go of his forearm, smearing blood over his own skin as he lifts his head and lets out a pathetic sounding groan.

Aether’s hands are gentle on him, trying to pull him up to his hands and knees but Rain shakes his head.

“It’s not enough. You gotta—please.”

“We have to what?” Dewdrop asks, fingers gentle under his chin.

“Don’t make me say it, you fuck.”

Dewdrop hums and takes him abruptly by his shoulders and forces him up until he has to get his hands under him. Rain meets his gaze and for a second, Rain wants to do something ridiculous like bite him but he doesn’t. Over his back, Aether and Dewdrop share a silent conversation before they’re both suddenly moving.

Rain nearly panics for a moment, thinking that they’re going to leave him here like this. But then Aether is taking Dewdrop’s place in front of him, cradling his head in his enormous, soft hands and Rain feels instantly grounded, his breath rushing from him in temporary relief. Dewdrop’s claws prickle at his hips, curling around them, his palms warm and steady.

“What?” Rain asks belatedly, blinking up at Aether, who continues stroking at his cheeks with both thumbs. “Please. I can’t—think anymore. I need it. I need you.” The haze in his brain is almost overwhelming, boiling everything down to the throb in his cock and the panic that they won’t help him.

“We’ve got you,” Aether assures him, tipping his head up enough that he can kiss him. “Just breathe for me.”

At the same time, Dewdrop pushes in with one of his fingers. Rain breaks the kiss with a desperate sound, clutching at Aether’s thigh as he straightens again.

There’s the sound of a zipper and the hot, salty smell of precome and then Aether’s cock is sliding against his cheek. Rain groans and takes him in the hand not supporting himself and guides it into his mouth. The thick weight of it against his tongue soothes something in his brain, like static going silent. He moans as Aether starts up a slow, steady pace, pumping in and out like Rain isn’t about to combust with need.

He braces himself with both hands, closing his eyes when he feels the firm press of Dewdrop behind him. Their thighs are hot where they touch and Dewdrop’s hips are sharp against his ass. He slides his dick up the crack of his ass a few times before he guides himself down and in.

Rain groans around Aether’s cock as Dewdrop sinks into him from behind.

The thrum of encroaching panic that has been crawling under his skin all but evaporates. There is blessed silence in his head as Dewdrop settles between his knees, bracing himself and going still. Aether strokes his sweaty brows with both thumbs and the high arches of his cheeks until Rain looks up at him, his mouth still stretched around Aether’s cock.

“You’re beautiful.”

Rain whimpers, closing his eyes, and Aether starts to move again. He’s slow and careful with his pace, and neither of them are making any sounds so all Rain can hear is the noise of his own sloppy mouth and the harsh exhales of his breath through his nose.

Dewdrop’s fingers flex at his hips and tighten, claws pricking at his skin.

“Can I—?” he rasps.

Rain pulls off of Aether long enough to nod and say, “Please,” before he sucks Aether’s cock back down.

Above him, Aether lets out a low groan, fingers sinking into his hair. Finally, Dewdrop moves, starting a slow, careful rhythm.

Rain’s mind is blissfully blank. He feels the comforting satiation blooming in his chest, despite the fact that his dick is still hard. This is what he needs. The two of them inside of him, taking and giving and filling him up just right. It couldn’t have been anyone else.

Dewdrop’s pace picks up steadily until his hips are smacking against Rain’s ass. It hovers right on the edge of painful but every thrust of that cock inside of him quells the burning onslaught of need he feels.

The force of the thrusts behind him guide his rhythm on Aether’s dick. Pushing him forward and pulling him back. He braces a hand on Aether’s knee when he sinks down too far to be comfortable and Aether lets out a soft, feathery sound.

“So good, Rain. You’re so good. Look at you.”

Rain’s face is flushed and sweaty and his knees are being rubbed raw by the frozen ground. He doubts he’s looking anything other than disgusting right now. But that’s probably the point.

He clenches his eyes when Dewdrop leans over him, holding onto his belly with one hand and pressing inward as he thrusts.

“Do you feel me?” he asks, rasping pure filth with that growl of a voice. “Right here?”

Rain sucks in a breath through his nose and tries to smother his whimper. Judging by the noise that Aether makes and the stutter in his hips, he fails.

Closing his eyes, he lets himself hang there between them, feeling Aether on his tongue and the insistent pressure of Dewdrop’s cock in his belly, too deep to ignore. He hooks his feet over Dewdrop’s calves, brows furrowed as he just tries to breathe through it.

“Answer him,” Aether says, easing back until his cock is just out of reach. It’s red and swollen and dripping into the dirt beneath them. Rain feels the horrible urge to cry, suddenly.

“Yes,” he gasps as Dewdrop sinks in as deep as he can go and rocks his hips forward again and again. “Yes, fuck.”

He’d say anything they told him to; whatever gets Aether back in his mouth.

“Is it good?”

The question sounds too sincere to be anything but and Rain nods.

“Please, please—” he grabs Aether by the back of the knee and pulls him in again.

Thankfully, Aether lets himself be led, feeding his cock back into Rain’s mouth. The low-grade fever pitch of need is back, scratching under his skin as Aether slowly fucks his face and Dewdrop grinds into him from behind. The lack of urgency is painful as neither of them seems to be as desperate as Rain is but somewhere, outside of his moon-addled brain, that makes sense.

Neither of them are under the thrall of the full moon. It’s only him that feels the burning need to be skewered up between them.

Rain whimpers when Dewdrop nails him just right and hones in on the same spot when he feels the way that Rain jumps under him.

“Right there?”

He’s still pressed tight to Rain’s back, grinding in over and over, the angle just right, making Rain cry out at the sweet agony of it.

“Yeah,” Aether answers for him. “That’s it. That’s good.”

Rain wants to tell him to shut up, that he can’t take hearing those words coming out of Aether’s mouth. The spill of precome over his tongue is telling. Aether doesn’t falter, holding Rain’s head steady with a gentle hand on his throat, feeling the press of his own cock there, and the other stroking his cheek and carding through his hair in turn.

“’m gonna come,” Rain gasps with utter certainty, pulling off of Aether’s cock to glance up at him.

He can’t hold his gaze. It’s too much, with Dewdrop at his back still rocking inside of him with brutal accuracy, grinding away and setting off electric shocks over his body. He feels full to the brim and it is so good.

Aether’s cock pushes at his mouth and Rain sucks him back in, gliding up and down its length with purpose. He wants them both to come. He needs it in every single sense.

Please, he thinks, clenching his eyes as the heat in his belly tightens his balls and makes his thighs shake. Please, please, please.

Aether’s hips move faster, pumping into his mouth with purpose and Rain just tries to hold himself still.

Waiting for them to give him what he needs.

Dewdrop is still digging into his stomach with force, pressing against himself from the outside. Rain can’t take it much longer. He needs to come.

Above him, Aether chokes on an inhale and lets out a gorgeous, breathy sound, spilling suddenly into Rain’s mouth. It takes them both by surprise because Rain gags when he pushes in too far and then Dewdrop is ramming into him hard and fast, clawing at his hips tight enough to be painful. Aether clutches his head, pulling out as he finishes coming across his open mouth and Rain loses his footing from there.

He's wet and sore when Dewdrop pulls out and his jaw aches pleasantly when Aether sits back on his heels and takes him by the shoulders with careful hands.

Rain lets himself be rolled onto his back, the cold light of the moon shining down on him as Dewdrop sucks him off to one final, devastating orgasm. It hurts a little but watching Dewdrop’s lips slide along his length more than makes up for it. He clenches Aether’s hand and bucks at the overstimulation but it’s good. It’s so fucking good. It’s everything he needed.

While he’s still lying there, breath rasping visibly above him as he comes down, Dewdrop leans over him to kiss Aether. The visible press of their tongues, sharing Rain’s come between them has his dick twitching painfully. He reaches down to cup it in one shaking hand, biting his lip to quell the quivering pulse in his stomach.

Pressing down lightly to feel the phantom ache of Dewdrop inside of him makes his thighs clench together.

Aether tucks himself away and sits down heavily at Rain’s head, guiding it up and into his lap. Dewdrop has disappeared but Rain isn’t too concerned about it, with Aether rubbing at his temples and gently grounding him to the spot, there’s not a lot of worry left in him.

“You okay?” Aether asks when his heart has slowed to a reasonable pace.

“Yeah.”

He catches and holds Aether’s hand when it strays down his throat.

“It got you good this time, huh?”

Rain nods and turns his head into Aether’s forearm, breathing in his familiar scent. It fills his head and snuffs the lingering frenzy there like a candle flame being blown out. He’s never spent the night of a ritual with anyone he’s known in more than just passing before. It feels different in the best possible way.

Future full moon rituals will be forever measured against this one tonight.

It’s a while before Dewdrop returns. He’s got a wet cloth hanging in one hand and an uncorked bottle in the other. He looks put together, all buttoned up and mask on again like he didn’t just fuck Rain into the ground a few minutes ago. He hands the bottle—something Ghoul-brewed and crackling with magic—to Aether.

Dewdrop gets back to his knees and cleans Rain up with careful hands, swiping away blood and come and dirt until Rain is shivering under him.

“That’s good,” Aether says, batting his hand away. “Get him dressed. He’s freezing.”

Despite the overwhelming heat that had flooded him at the start of the night, he’s taken the edge off and now he’s cold, lying naked on the ground as he is. Together, they dress him the same way they undressed him, with slightly less urgency. Rain leans against Aether’s side, sore and satisfied and utterly exhausted.

Still, he accepts the bottle when it’s passed to him and swallows enough spicy Ghoul liquor to wash the taste of come from his mouth.

Dewdrop claps a hand over his calf and squeezes, looking back toward the mass of Ghouls still gathered around the bonfire. Not too far from them, Rain recognizes another one of the water Ghouls on her back with Swiss’s head buried between her legs.

Dewdrop takes the bottle when Rain hands it over and takes a long drink, watching as Swiss lifts one leg and then the other over his shoulder. Rain tips his head back against Aether’s shoulder.

It’s easy to zone out, let his focus fall on watching other Ghouls pass by around them, talking and laughing and drinking. The undercurrent of sex still permeates the atmosphere, pulsing inside of Rain’s chest; it’s just duller now.

Aether’s hand rests against his chest, arm heavy over his shoulder, fingers pressed against the divots of his ribs. It’s grounding, keeping his head clear in a way it probably wouldn’t if he were left on his own right now.

Eventually, Dewdrop pushes himself to his feet and ruffles Rain’s hair. Rain gives him a kick as he goes, wandering off back into the crowd, head turning to watch Swiss as he passes by.

Aether hauls him even closer, his chest a warm weight at Rain’s back as he resituates his hand on Rain’s chest and presses a kiss to the hair behind his ear. Smiling softly, Rain closes his eyes. Aether was the right choice.

The moans of the water Ghoul nearest to them kick up in volume and Aether huffs a laugh.

“Swiss’s stamina,” he remarks dryly.

Rain cracks his eyes open to watch for him thrust for a moment before closing them again. “Those bony hips have to hurt after a certain point.” He pats at Aether’s thigh, thick and warm under his palm.

Aether gives him a fond squeeze. “That’s my boy.”

“Am I?” Rain asks, tilting his head back. Aether’s eyes snap to his immediately. “Yours?”

There is a renewed heat in his cheeks and Rain feels the telltale swoop of arousal in his belly when Aether licks his bottom lip.

“You wanna be?” His voice is calm in a way that belies the heat buried in it.

Rain hums, closing his eyes and lifting his chin. Aether meets him in a kiss that is slow and gentle and just a little bit filthy. The skin of Aether’s jaw is a little warm from where it’s flushed and Rain pets it gently. He’s soft in all of the best ways.

“I think,” Rain murmurs against the corner of his mouth when they part, “I’m still…”

“Yeah. I think so.”

Aether kisses him again and Rain turns to face him so he’s not wrenching his neck. A hand at the back of his knee and another at his waist pull at him until he swings his leg over Aether’s thighs and settles into his lap. The stirring in his groin is increasing in intensity as Aether’s massive hands run up and down his back, into his hair, and over his thighs. He’s so warm and solid underneath Rain, letting him set the pace even as the cloudy haze of urgency rolls in again like fog over a lake, weaving its way around his spine.

A breathy sigh leaves him when Aether reaches between them to rub at Rain’s stiffening cock. His breath mists from his lips as he tips his head back, rocking into the touch.

No full moon ritual has ever been like this before. He’s never felt the sway of the moon so strongly. It’s equal parts intoxicating and nerve-wracking.

Maybe it’s Aether. Maybe it’s the liquor Dewdrop shared with him. Maybe it’s him and he’s so pent up that once isn’t enough.

He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care because Aether is unbuttoning his pants again as he mouths at Rain’s collarbone with the sharp press of his teeth. Once he feels the waistband loosen, he pushes at Aether’s shoulders until he collapses onto his back. Rain follows him down, kissing him wet and deep and messy.

Both of Aether’s hands slide through his hair before moving down his back.

“Get your pants off,” Rain rasps into his mouth.

By the time Rain has stripped his jeans off and flung them aside again, Aether has his own bunched up at his thighs. His dick is hard against the cut of his hip, red and wet at the tip, and Rain’s hands are starting to shake. He feels off-kilter and hot all over as he digs his knees into the frozen ground again.

It’s disorienting to feel so out of control again, so fast.

“I got you,” Aether assures him, cradling the back of his neck and pulling him in for a brief kiss.

If there’s one thing he knows in the all-consuming thrall of moon-induced haze, is that Aether has him. Completely.

His fingers flex on Aether’s shoulders as he guides his cock into Rain. It’s an easy slide, Rain sitting back as Aether pushes up with his hips until they meet.

“You’re still so tight,” Aether rasps when Rain sits upright, both hands engulfing his hips.

The words wash over Rain without really sinking in. Dewdrop’s touch feels distant, like it might have happened another night and not like he can’t still feel that hand on his stomach, digging in to feel himself moving.

Rain’s fingers trail over his belly and press.

Aether’s breath leaves him in a rush as he watches.

Lifting himself up and dropping back down makes Aether groan, his eyes closing as Rain tips forward and plants both hands on his shoulders. He sets a quick and brutal pace, riding Aether hard, wanting to feel him where Dewdrop left him aching.

A hand fits itself over his stomach, the palm warm and fingers spread. Rain whimpers, his thighs starting to shake as Aether rubs him, squeezing and massaging the plane of his stomach.

“I can feel myself here.”

“Please,” Rain gasps, grinding down against him. “Please.” He fumbles his own hand over Aether’s, who takes hold of him and guides him into place; guiding his fingers until he can feel the movement of Aether’s dick in his belly.

The sound Rain lets loose echoes in his own ears, loud and breathy and full of need. Aether holds his hand there as he plants his feet on the ground and starts thrusting. Rain digs into him with his other hand, sliding forward over his chest and gripping his shoulder as Aether rocks him with the force of his hips.

Rain could collapse like this. Just slide forward and hold onto Aether, let him do all the work, fuck him until the frenzy is gone and he feels like himself again.

But that burning torrent of need drives him upright again. He plants both hands on Aether’s shoulders and rocks back against him, vying for control of the rhythm again.

It doesn’t take much; Aether is nothing if not intuitive, and he slows down until Rain is the one guiding them. He feels shaky and the muscles in his thighs ache, but it doesn’t stop him from riding Aether until they’re both dazed and out of breath.

The slick sounds of Aether’s cock sliding in and out of him, the smack of their hips, and Aether’s soft grunts every time Rain grinds down against him are all echoing in his head. It’s so good, even if Rain feels out of control, like the reins have long-since slid from his hands and the only thing tethering him are the hands holding his hips.

There’s a certainty in his gut, something that tells him that this time will be enough. He chases the ache, mindless in his pursuit of release.

Aether’s fingers press into his stomach again. “You feel it? You feel me here?”

“Yes”

It’s inexplicable the reaction he has to that, how filthy it feels to know that Aether—and Dewdrop—can feel themselves inside of him. That they enjoy it, that he’s making them feel as good as they make him feel.

Rain reaches for his cock but Aether brushes his hand away, holding him down and letting Rain grind his dick where he needs it, churning him up inside. When Rain gets the angle right, he rocks into it over and over and Aether holds still and lets him, stroking him tight and hard.

Rain’s breath hiccups out of him, sharp and loud as Aether fists the head of his cock in a tight fist, fast and brutal until Rain is crying out and spilling weakly over his hand.

“That’s it. That’s so good, Rain. You’re so good.”

The praise in that raspy voice prods at his brain in just the right places, making him flush and shudder all over again. He feels like he’s going to come apart at the seams.

It’s over too soon. He goes from transcendent to oversensitive in a heartbeat, folding in on himself and grabbing Aether’s wrist to hold him still.

“Stop, stop,” he pleads, his entire body wracked with aftershocks.

Aether’s hand lets go, moving back to his hip. He sees the spatter of his come on Aether’s belly and shudders again.

“Here,” Aether urges, easing him up and off of his still-hard cock.

Rain lets out a weak protest as Aether rolls them both onto their sides, nudging Rain’s head onto his bicep and kissing him as he jerks off between them. Rain touches him, fingers gliding through the fresh sweat on his sides and scratching at the hair on his chest. He sucks Aether’s tongue into his mouth and moans when fingers find the base of one of his horns and squeeze.

The hot splatter of Aether’s come on his thighs feels like a relief for both of them. It’s his turn to hold Aether as he shakes and moans. Rain fists a hand in his hair and presses his open mouth to Aether’s forehead, feeling the wet head of Aether’s cock bumping against his belly as he works himself through it. Aether goes limp for a moment, breathing heavily into the curve of his neck, before he hauls Rain close again.

Neither of them moves for long enough that Rain starts to feel the familiar ache settle in his low back, the strain in his thighs, a low-grade headache starting to press against his forehead. Everything that says he’s satisfied the need.

No more. No more tonight.

It’s over for certain, now.

He’s fucked off the sway of the moon and now he’s cold, lying mostly naked on the ground again.

Aether’s nose nudges against his own and Rain accepts the chaste kiss he gives him, fingers curling under Rain’s jaw.

“Okay?” Aether asks.

Rain nods, content to lie against his bicep and never move again.

“I leave for five minutes and you go again without me?”

Rain cracks his eyes open to glance up at Dewdrop standing over the two of them. He has his arms folded and his mouth is set in a firm line.

Aether makes a point of kicking him as he sits up, bringing Rain with him, even though his entire body protests the movement.

“He needed someone who could finish the job,” Aether tells him casually, standing and hauling his jeans back up, mindless of the sticky mess he’s making of himself.

The two of them bicker back and forth while they get Rain cleaned up and tucked back into his pants again. A sure sign that Dewdrop isn’t actually put out, which Rain is oddly grateful for. He hadn’t really been thinking when he’d climbed on top of Aether again.

The point of the whole night is that he can’t think.

But they still settle back down together. Rain exhausted but still not ready to leave. The pull of something he can’t put a name to holding him in place with the rest of the Ghouls. Something beyond tradition, coded into their very essence.

Soon enough, he’ll head back to the abbey to get himself cleaned up and sleep it off. Aether and Dewdrop will check on him in the afternoon and make sure he’s eaten. It’s all telegraphed out before them like a script, because he’s read this one before and he knows how it goes.

Aether presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

It’s nice, watching everyone enjoying themselves with the two of them settled around him.

“I’m cold,” he says at length.

Dewdrop sighs and hauls himself closer to the two of them with a visible roll of his eyes, lying down with his head on Rain’s thigh. He raises his body temperature until the heat radiating off of him is blazing hot and uncomfortable. Aether smacks the side of his head and Dewdrop slaps his hand away. But he does lower the heat to a tolerable degree.

“We could just move next to the literal bonfire,” Dewdrop complains.

“Why bother when we have you?” Aether asks at the same time Rain says, “My ass hurts.”

Both Aether and Dewdrop laugh, one of Aether’s arms wrapping around his chest to squeeze him. Rain closes his eyes and breathes the clear, frigid air.

The moon is gorgeous and bright above them and Rain feels the relief of another full moon ritual passing.

Chapter Text

The night is absolutely frigid. The kind of cold that makes Swiss’s skin hurt and his eyes dry out. The type of cold that makes him long for the eternal heat of the Pit. He hates the winter and he hates it here, even more. He’s been places that aren’t as cold as the abbey is, this deep into the season, but for whatever reason, they’ve settled into this ghastly, snowy region.

Swiss’s knees ache where he kneels at the altar. It’s just him and Sunshine and one other Ghoul that Swiss doesn’t know by name. There aren’t many of them that dabble in a little bit of everything with any sort of skill, and tonight, they are all called here by the pull of the Cold Moon to give in to the creeping heat under their skin.

Swiss’s stomach aches like he’s been gut-punched and his chest is tight, but that could just be the frozen air he’s breathing in. He watches as Copia blesses the unnamed Ghoul first, and then Sunshine, who smiles sweetly up at him when he cups her head in his gentle hands. He doesn’t say anything further and she leans into his palm as it falls away.

Papa’s hand settles between his horns and Swiss feels a familiar swoop in his belly. Something that has his mouth watering and his jaw clenching.

He listens to the soft cadence of Copia’s blessing without hearing the words. They’re as old as the Ghouls’ time on this planet, a holdover tradition that has been in place since these rituals started at the abbey. Swiss doesn’t need to hear them to know them; they’re as ancient as he is.

Still, it fills him with satisfaction to hear Papa speak them.

Like with Sunshine, he cradles Swiss’s head in his hands and Swiss looks up at him, blinking away the dryness in his eyes.

Copia smiles at him. “Be safe, yes?”

Swiss inclines his head as best he can. “Yes, Papa.”

Copia’s thumb brushes over the arch of his cheekbone before he lets go and it feels like lightning under his skin. He mirrors Sunshine, trailing after Papa’s hand as it slips away from him. It nearly leaves him gasping.

Papa takes the lantern he had placed in the snow beside the altar and picks it up, giving them all one final nod and turning away. His booted feet crunch against the snow as he heads back into the darkness toward the abbey.

Swiss watches his silhouette until he disappears into the night, his stomach churning with something he’s reluctant to identify.

A hand touches his shoulder and when he looks up, Sunshine raises her brows at him.

“Okay?”

He nods at her, taking the offer of her hand and getting to his feet. There is a lovely heat to her round cheeks and a familiar glaze to her eyes, pupils blown wide enough to obscure the iris. She smiles a little dreamily at him before she turns to head off the altar in the direction of the bonfire. The third Ghoul is already gone.

Swiss’s eyes follow Sunshine, watching her as she makes her way toward the rest of the Ghouls, celebrating the moon in their honor and waiting for them to return. He should follow her. He should filter his way through the crowd and pick a partner whose scent feels intoxicating, someone his body leans toward for reasons he doesn’t completely understand.

And he almost does. He takes a handful of steps off the dais and into the snow, sinking up to mid-calf, before he stops.

The tug in his belly, the invisible string wound through him, halts him in place. He can see the heat of the bonfire warping the air above the lake, his own satisfaction laid out at the hands of some other Ghoul.

The way it should be.

Instead, he turns away from it and sets off toward the abbey, into the darkness, following along in the trail Copia had left behind. Sunken footprints and shallow channels in the snow from the trailing of his robes.

Like a dog with a scent, he picks up his pace until he is nearly sprinting. The closer he draws to Copia’s retreating form and the steady sway of his lantern, the more Swiss’s blood pumps in his ears.

He wants Copia.

Hearing his less than stealthy approach, Papa turns to face him beneath the clear night sky, looking surprised under his paint, and draws to a stop.

“Swiss?”

He looks and sounds concerned as Swiss draws up close.

Copia isn’t a big man, even with the mitre on. Swiss was blessed with a lovely body to pilot around when he was summoned. Tall and strong with a nice voice; conventionally attractive, if the humans are to be believed. He appreciates the height, now more than ever, as he stands before Copia, looking down slightly to meet his gaze.

It’s all the more effective when he drops to his knees in the snow.

Copia stands bolt upright and his hands jerk forward as if to catch Swiss but he nearly smacks him in the head with the lantern. The motion is enough to extinguish the flame as he tugs it back, narrowly missing Swiss’s temple with the corner.

“What—"Copia cuts off, hastily discarding the lantern in the snow and reaching for him.

He gets one hand on Swiss’s elbow before Swiss captures the other, wrapping his fingers around his wrist and holding him there, half-bent over him. His eyes are wide, the sclera visible around his singular black iris.

“Swiss?” he asks this time, sounding quieter, more confused than concerned. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Swiss tells him.

Turning Copia’s hand in his, he leans in to press a kiss against his gloved palm, warm and lingering. Copia’s arms go rigid, his breath freezing in his chest.

“Swiss—”

“Will you take care of me, Papa?”

It’s a blow to the ankles and he watches it land, the way Copia flusters, shaking his head minutely as if he hadn’t heard correctly.

“Surely—Swiss, surely another Ghoul would be a better choice. I—”

Swiss shakes his head, shifting uncomfortably, feeling the damp of the snow through the knees of his pants. He furrows his brows.

“No. I want you.”

Copia makes a face like he’s in pain and shakes his hands free of Swiss’s grasp. There’s a brief surge of panic in his belly before Copia gently takes his face in both hands.

“I can’t,” Copia says, voice calm but shaky. “I’m not equipped to help you with this.”

Swiss shakes his head to clear it. The low thrum of arousal is getting stronger and his head feels like it’s slowly being pumped full of hot air. He’s starting to sweat despite the frigid temperature.

“I don’t—you don’t understand,” he tries.

But Copia’s hands start to fall away. He grabs the retreating wrist and deftly sucks Copia’s thumb into his mouth, laving the leather generously with his tongue. He hears Papa’s sharp inhale, feels the shake in his hand as Swiss sucks on his thumb. He can smell the pulse of Copia’s arousal under the vague, stinging spike of distress.

Copia pulls away abruptly, holding his hand against his chest like it pains him, his thumb stuck up awkwardly. The light of the moon is so bright and strong that Swiss would be able to see the flush in his cheeks, if his face wasn’t covered in paint.

The low-grade panic surges when Copia shakes his head and fumbles for the lantern’s handle. He backs up a step.

“I shouldn’t,” he tells Swiss, his voice quiet.

When he takes another step away, Swiss grabs a fistful of his robes, halting him in place.

“Please,” Swiss says, feeling the anxiety at being abandoned flooding through him. “Don’t leave me like this.” Copia hesitates. The moment stretches and Swiss’s hand begins to shake. He drops his head and begs, “Papa, please. It has to be you.”

While Copia might not understand the ritual in its entirety, he has to know enough to understand that Swiss is choosing him based on instinct alone. He has been hardwired to seek out Copia since the night began, even if he didn’t realize it. It’s fucking weird that he’s a human, and Swiss isn’t going to look too deeply into that right now, but it’s not unheard of. It’s nothing he can deny himself, even if he wanted to.

After an eternity of hesitation, Copia’s hand wraps around his fist and he says, “Okay.”

Swiss almost folds over into the snow in relief. Instead, he gets up on shaky legs at the urging of Copia’s hands. He doesn’t miss Copia’s fleeting glance at the tented front of his pants. Copia clears his throat and smooths out Swiss’s shirt for imaginary wrinkles.

“You always had to be different, didn’t you?” his tone is teasing, even though there’s an audible quiver in his voice.

Swiss gathers up the hand he sucked on in both of his and brings Copia’s knuckles to his lips.

“I need my Papa.”

Copia makes a face like he’s trying to not respond at all, and fails. He takes his free hand and curls it around Swiss’s bicep, starting to walk again.

The satiation in Swiss’s belly nearly overtakes the growing arousal as Copia leads him back inside the abbey and out of the cold night. He folds his hand over Copia’s as they go.

The walk to Copia’s quarters is long enough that Swiss starts to feel uncomfortable. He’s hot under the collar and sweat is dampening the roots of his hair, his dick noticeably hard and awkward to ignore.

“This is somehow not the strangest date I have ever had,” Copia says.

Swiss grins at him as he unlocks the door to his rooms.

“How did that one end?” Swiss asks, stepping inside when Copia holds the door.

“Badly,” Copia says, offering nothing more.

He’s never been in Papa’s rooms before, never coming close to it beyond delivering a package or a note from Imperator. There is a fire in the hearth, crackling away merrily, lighting the room and warming it, like Swiss isn’t on the edge of having a breakdown or an orgasm. Possibly both if Papa doesn’t touch him soon.

He stands on the rich rug at the center of the room and makes a show of looking around. There are masterful oil paintings on the wall, books that hum with an undercurrent of magic lining shelves and tables, some open like Copia had been interrupted while reading, taking notes and never come back to them.

Swiss trails his fingers over the back of a plush armchair, feeling the expensive velvet crush under his touch. He looks at Copia over his shoulder.

“Where’s the bedroom?”

Copia has taken his mitre off and set it down in one of the chairs. He stares at Swiss for a long moment before he gestures. There is only the attached bathroom and closet, and the obvious open door to the bedroom, but he wants Papa to tell him. Encourage him.

“Just through there,” he says, unbuttoning the collar of his robes where they sit just under his chin. “Make yourself at home. I’ll just be a moment.”

Swiss takes the invitation, sauntering as best he can on his way into the room. There is a private thrill in being inside of Papa’s rooms. In his bedroom, where he sleeps and fucks, where he is at his most vulnerable.

It fans the excitement building to an intolerable degree.

Swiss squats down in front of the unlit fireplace and sparks it to life with a touch of his hand. He stays there, watching as the embers spread, catching on dried bits of each of the logs. There’s something calming about it.

When he stands, he strips off his shirt at the same time he kicks out of his boots, letting them land on the stone floor, dripping as snow melts from the soles. He’s got his pants unzipped when Copia comes into the room, his face wiped clean of paint and looking small and fit in his dark slacks and matching button down. His hair stands up over his ears, a little damp and messy, but it’s endearing in a way that makes Swiss want to eat him alive.

Copia stares as he shoves his jeans down, leaving him naked in the middle of his room. Swiss can’t help the self-assured smile that filters across his face as he kicks the bunched up fabric away and holds both of his arms out, putting himself on display.

Swiss’s vision goes blurry as Copia starts to unbutton his own shirt.

“Get on the bed,” he orders quietly.

For once, Swiss does as he’s told. There is a bleary sort of ache behind his eyes as he crawls onto Copia’s bed. There won’t be much of himself left soon and he knows it. He wants to get off at least once while he thinks he can remember it and he’s running out of time.

A hand wraps around his ankle and then Copia is rolling him onto his back. Swiss can’t stifle his groan when Copia nudges his way between his legs and runs both hands down his thighs. It lights him up inside, making his hips arch and his nipples harden enough to hurt. He has to grip the soft, warm fabric of Copia’s comforter as he bends over, lifting Swiss’s straining cock and sucking it into his mouth.

Swiss lets out a desperate sound, toes curling and fingers aching as he holds himself still. Copia sucks him with the ease of experience, his lips tight and working the base with his hand.

“Papa,” Swiss rasps, reaching a shaky hand out to card through his thick hair. “Ahh!” Copia takes him down until his lips meet his fist and swallows.

Swiss loses the thread, feeling conscious thought slip through his fingers like water as Copia sucks him languidly.

He lies there for what feels like forever, holding Copia’s hair in his fist, feeling the heat of the fire as it overwhelms him. The blissful mindlessness of the moon pulls him out of himself and fills him back up with desperation. He wants to come but Copia’s mouth feels good and steady and he doesn’t want it to stop.

The urgency building in his groin is impossible to ignore, however. He feels the encroaching end of his orgasm as it builds in his hips. He rocks into Copia’s mouth and pulls at his hair. Swiss gasps when Copia moans around him, and there is no stopping the sudden rush as it crests.

“Papa,” he moans. “Papa, please. Please.”

Copia moves both hands to his hips and holds him up in his arch as he starts to come. Copia swallows until he can’t, and lets Swiss finish coming over his open mouth.

The sight has Swiss groaning and tipping his head back until he can’t see it anymore. He shakes through it, Copia wringing him dry, but there is little satisfaction in it. Once the initial moment has passed, the pressing need of again swells, keeping his dick hard and aching when Copia releases it.

Swiss lies there, wet with his own come, as Copia straightens up and wipes his mouth with a handkerchief pulled from his back pocket. Swiss lets out a bark of laughter at the sight, grinning at him as Copia tosses it aside and smacks him on the bare thigh.

“You laugh at your Papa?”

“My Papa is an old man.”

Copia nods, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way and tugging it from the waistband of his pressed slacks. “I am. And you want to spend your ritual night with me.” He waves his hands at Swiss, who backs up onto the bed properly, setting his head against Copia’s abundance of pillows. “Says more about you than me.”

Shedding his shirt, Copia climbs up on the bed and Swiss lets his legs fall open, reaching down to touch himself. He watches as Copia opens his belt and tugs it through the loops, tossing it aside.

“I need you to understand,” Copia says, his voice careful and measured, “that I will do my best to give you what you need, but I am no Ghoul.” He deftly opens his pants, shoving them down his thighs, completely bypassing the press of his cock against his underwear. “My stamina is very much human. And, as you have already pointed out, I’m old.”

Swiss shakes his head, letting go of himself to catch Copia when he tugs him in with both legs. Copia huffs a laugh as he rests his weight on his elbows above Swiss’s shoulders, nearly nose-to-nose with each other.

“You can’t tell me you haven’t fucked one of your Ghouls before.”

Copia licks his bottom lip; there is a smear of paint under it that he missed and Swiss wants to suck it off his skin.

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Do you fuck and tell?”

Copia regards him carefully for a moment. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Oh, I want you to. I want everyone to know you fucked the frenzy out of me.”

“You,” Copia says, with a shudder in his voice, “are filthy.”

Swiss settles back into the pillows looking smug. “And you—” Swiss starts to say before a rush of desire slams into him with all the force of a tour bus. He cuts himself off with a moan, arching his hips up into Copia’s, grinding their cocks together.

“You,” Swiss gasps, pinching his eyes shut, hips rocking. “Please. Papa, please.”

The change is abrupt but Copia responds by kissing him. Swiss is too lost in the sudden swell to respond but it still registers in his brain. It still feels good. He whimpers when Copia pulls away.

A hand strokes through his hair and then Copia is pushing himself up enough to shove his underwear down and off. Swiss lies there watching him, gnawing on his bottom lip as Copia’s cock comes into view; flushed and hard and lovely. He chokes on the sound he wants to make and closes his eyes.

The creep of the moon in his veins may be slower than it is for the other Ghouls, solidly entrenched in their element, but it’s got him now. The desperation he feels isn’t going to go. Not until he’s had it fucked out of him.

It’s a blur of slick fingers, and teeth against his neck, and Copia hissing when he digs into his back with his claws. The hurricane in his head doesn’t quiet until Copia pushes into him, and even then, it merely feels like the eye of the storm.

The clearing of the fog only lasts long enough for Swiss to nod when Copia asks him, “All right?”

He holds on while Copia fucks him, hard and deep and a little too slow to be entirely satisfying. It leaves Swiss clawing at his back, urging him on with his heels against Copia’s thighs. He never picks up the pace, not enough to quell the ache.

Swiss comes anyway, spilling over both of their stomachs when Copia pushes his hair back and presses a kiss to his ear.

It’s weird and human and it lights him up from the inside. Copia groans at the rivets Swiss digs into his shoulders, but he doesn’t stop moving until he’s coming too, hips flush with Swiss’s and his choked-off moan echoing between them.

It’s enough to make Swiss’s dick twitch again.

Copia doesn’t collapse against him, propping himself back up on his forearm and reaching down to ease his cock out. Swiss grabs him by the elbow and halts the movement.

“Don’t,” he rasps. “Stay there.”

Copia sets his hand against Swiss’s hip instead. “I’m going to get soft soon and it’s going to hurt,” he says. It’s rational, even to Swiss’s muddled brain, but it still has him shaking his head.

“I’m not done,” Swiss tells him. “You can’t be done. I need you.”

Panic is encroaching again, tapping at the edges of his consciousness, reminding him that Papa is painfully human.

Copia shifts against him, setting a thumb against his lips and shushing him. “You must give me a minute,” he murmurs. “I will take care of you, as many times as you need.”

“I need to be fucked,” Swiss deadpans, the anxiety in his chest mixing with the desperate arousal in his stomach. He feels shaky, his breath coming faster even as Copia shushes him again.

“I will take care of you,” he repeats, thumb tapping against Swiss’s sharp canine. Swiss sucks it into his mouth. “A moment, please.”

Swiss isn’t entirely sure that he has a moment to give. His cock is just as hard as it was before his first orgasm and the haze settled around his brain is showing no signs of abating anytime soon. He swallows and closes his eyes, trying to ground himself in the weight of Copia against him, holding him down in more ways than the obvious.

He shifts uncomfortably, his dick trapped against Copia’s soft one, until he works it into the cut of Copia’s hip. Planting his hands at Copia’s low back, he holds him in place as he rocks against him, thrusting into that tight space.

Copia watches him for a long moment before leaning in to bite at Swiss’s jaw.

“Do you want me to get someone else for you?”

The offer is sincere and Swiss lets himself imagine it for a moment. Copia seeking out another Ghoul for him—Aether, his mind helpfully supplies—and bringing him back here to fuck Swiss through the remainder of the night. His breath catches at the thought of Copia sitting in that plush chair by the fire and watching as Swiss is bent in half and fucked, coming all over his expensive, Italian bedsheets.

Swiss tips his head back and groans out his release into the sticky air between them.

Copia holds the side of his face in a gentle hand as Swiss spasms underneath him.

“Answer me,” he says eventually, turning Swiss to face him.

His vision is blurry when he meets those mismatched eyes. As tempting as the offer is, the promise of having every one of his needs met by someone built to see to them, he shakes his head.

“No. I want you, Papa.”

Copia huffs a breath against his cheek before he kisses him again. Swiss brings a hand up to cup his elbow. Everything is starting to hurt, the need to come again steamrolling the sensation of his last orgasm. He never forgets what a moon ritual feels like but he certainly hates it now more than he ever does.

“Sweet talker,” Copia murmurs, kissing him again before he rolls to the side.

Swiss stares at his ceiling, feeling the heat of the fire and the come drying on his stomach and wants to whine. Instead, he turns to Copia, whose cock is still soft.

“I can help,” he finds himself saying without thinking. “Let me?”

Copia has his hand around himself, working his fist carefully as he starts to fatten up again.

“Should just be a minute,” he soothes. “Your Papa is an old man, remember?”

“No,” Swiss says with a shake of his head. He rolls onto his side and places his hand over Copia’s. “I can—I can make it hard. Keep it hard. You just have to say yes.”

Copia catches his meaning instantly; Swiss isn’t offering him a legendary handjob, he’s offering his magic.

“You can do that?” Copia asks slowly, letting his hand fall away. Swiss strokes him from head to base, keeping his fingers loose. He’s so wet.

He nods. “With your permission, Papa.”

Copia eyes him for a moment, with Swiss’s hand around his cock. “How long will it last?”

“As long as I need it to.”

Copia drops his head, taking a shuddering breath. “As long as you need it to,” he repeats.

There’s a moment where Swiss doesn’t know what Copia’s response is going to be and it frays his already tattered nerves even further.

“I shouldn’t be surprised you can do this,” he says before clearing his throat and nodding. “For your pleasure.”

The words shouldn’t make Swiss shudder but they do. He reaches for Copia with his free hand, drawing him down to kiss him again. He focuses on the pulse of heat in his palm and tightens his grip. Copia’s cock swells rapidly, hardening up beautifully in his fist.

A surprised groan seeps between his lips and into Swiss’s mouth.

“In me,” Swiss murmurs, nipping at his top lip. “Now. Please.”

Copia moves, easing back between Swiss’s legs. He touches himself for a moment like he doesn’t know what to make of his own erection, before he gets Swiss’s knees up over his elbows and pushes himself back in.

Swiss feels decadent, lying back against his Papa’s pillows, legs splayed and dick hard against his belly. He sucks his own bottom lip, looking up at the bare face above him, naked and open in every way, trusting Swiss with his body. It’s intoxicating, even more than the pull of the moon overhead.

He braces his forearm against the intricately carved headboard and enjoys the thrust of Copia inside him. It quiets the storm and quells the need and Copia looks lovely like this. Swiss can’t stop his mind from wandering, wondering if Copia has had anyone he knows in here before, laid out and on edge like Swiss is.

His toes curl as he comes again, sudden and quick, leaking weakly onto his stomach.

Copia tries to touch him through it but Swiss shakes his head. “It’s good,” he whispers. “I’m good. Keep going.”

“You just came,” Copia says, his hips stuttering.

“Trust me,” Swiss rasps. “Don’t stop. Fuck me, Papa.”

Copia drops his head for a moment before he resumes his pace. Sweat rolls from his temple and down his cheek. Swiss swipes at it with his finger before sucking it into his mouth. When Copia leans over him to bite at his neck, Swiss’s mind goes pleasantly blank.

He doesn’t know how long he lies there with Copia inside of him, how many times he comes or when he stopped having anything to show for it. Just the dry jerk of his cock and a full body shudder that leaves him breathless and ready to go again.

Finally, when Copia’s legs are shaking and Swiss is more ache than Ghoul, he says, “That’s it. That’s good, Papa. Come in me,” and releases the hold he has over Copia’s dick.

He comes almost instantly, crying out in loud relief when he does, hips kicking and face red. He collapses against Swiss’s chest before he’s even pulled out.

“Fuck,” Copia mutters. “Fuck me, are you good?”

Swiss hums, nodding and running his hands over Copia’s sweaty back.

“You did so good, Papa,” Swiss tells him as he collapses, half at Swiss’s side and half on top of him.

Copia tucks his hair behind his ear and lets his hand rest on Swiss’s stomach.

“I don’t know if I can take the credit for that. The body is willing…”

Swiss grins over at him, feeling blessedly aware of himself and Copia, the haze all but gone. “You deserve all the credit. Those human hips did all the work.”

They rest in silence, Swiss feeling fucked out and sticky but too good to move to do anything about it. The fire is lower behind its grate, but still keeping the room warm. It’s nice. He spares a thought to the rest of the Ghouls out by the lake, drinking and fucking and celebrating, and wonders if his absence has been noticed.

He wonders if they know he’s been back at the abbey getting fucked by Papa.

His toes curl at the thought, fingers trailing over Copia’s shoulder.

It’s a while before Copia moves, reaching for the bedside table to get a cigarette and lighter. He makes a questioning noise at Swiss, who shrugs, and he lights up, propped up against his pillows, feet crossed at the ankles and still blissfully naked.

Swiss takes the cigarette when offered. He doesn’t really indulge much and only ever when they’re on tour because Dewdrop has picked up the habit and he does it after every show.

He hands it back, Papa’s fingers touching his gently.

“You always smoke in bed?” Swiss asks, blowing his exhale the opposite direction.

“Not normally. I usually have the decency to stand at the window, but I can’t feel my legs right now.”

Swiss snorts and stretches until his joints pop. They pass the cigarette back and forth until it’s down to the filter and Copia drops it in the mostly-empty glass of water on his bedside table. He scrubs at his face with both hands.

“So,” he says. “You’re better?”

“Better than ever,” Swiss says, wiggling his brows.

Copia looks away from him, failing to mask the smile fighting its way onto his mouth. “You are…” he trails off.

“Handsome?” Swiss supplies. “Attractive? Roguish? Delightful?”

“Satan give me strength.” Swiss looks at him expectantly, sharp teeth on display as he smiles. “Roguish?” Swiss shrugs.

Copia doesn’t say anything further. He settles his hand on Swiss’s head and cards fingers through the thick locks of his hair. It feels nice.

“So I’m your favorite now, right?”

Copia tisks at him, hand going still with a thumb pressed against the side of one of his horns.

“I don’t have favorites.”

“Everyone has favorites. And it’s me.”

“Your confidence is staggering.”

Swiss rolls onto his side with effort and slings a leg over Copia’s thigh. “You bring other Ghouls back here, Papa?”

“Not that you know of.”

Swiss considers it for a moment before tossing it out. Copia only caved when Swiss begged on his knees, out of his mind under the moon’s influence.

“Empty words,” he whispers, tongue darting out to lick at Copia’s bottom lip.

Narrowed eyes meet his for a long moment that leaves Swiss wondering if this is how he oversteps tonight. But then an arm worms its way under his neck and around his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

“I’ve thought of a word for you.”

“Hmm?”

“Brat.”

Swiss scoffs into Copia’s neck but doesn’t otherwise protest. If the shoe fits and all that. Copia also didn’t deny his accusation and the feeling of it sits warmly in his belly. He folds his arms between Copia’s chest and his own and closes his eyes.

If Copia isn’t kicking him out, then he’s not going to move. There are worse ways to end a ritual night. This is the most calm he can ever remember feeling after one, actually.

He’ll deal with any potential awkward fallout in the morning. But if Papa doesn’t mind, then Swiss doesn’t either.