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Published:
2025-01-26
Completed:
2025-10-26
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10,831
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2/2
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When Two World Collide

Summary:

You neglect your bodyguard duties because Sylus asked you out on a date. But when Rafayel shows up at the same Gala, Sylus looks at him like a pretty thing worth collecting.

 
******
Or you peg the shit out of Rafayel while Sylus watches and a whole bunch of other fun.
******
Complete

Notes:

This was brought up a couple of times and lived rent free in my head. Now its a fic. Enjoy.

A playlist to get you in the mood
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Dt37p2skw0

 

Worked on this through the night and I'm posting it at 8:40 AM. If you are upset about poor grammar, you can bite me and I'll probably like it.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Its hard to get used to this level of extravagance.

 

Staring at a set of broad shoulders adorned by an immaculately tailored heather gray sports coat you feel so out of place. You were doing your best to try and hid your awkwardness and match Sylus’s cool demeanor every time he looks down at you to check in.

 

You finger the bespoke black gown Sylus insisted that you wear tonight—bedazzled with jewels that felt they were worth more than your life when he turns back around and places a glass of champagne in your hand.

 

“Little dove, you look tense,” Sylus observes casually as he pulls you closer to his side.

 

You fix your face, smiling as you take for first sip of sweet champagne. Too sweet and cheap clearly, as it leaves a less than desirable aftertaste on your tongue.

 

You’ve grown accustom to Sylus’s penchant of skinship. It bothered you at first, the way he’d reach out nonchalantly drape his arm around you, or ticklishly finger your waist. But today, you lean into him, a small sigh of relief escaping you as you feel reassured by his presence.

 

“I’m fine, Sylus,” you reassure as you take another sip of the cheap swill they had the audacity to serve after Sylus has donated millions of dollars to… uh… wait.

 

“So, Sylus. You never told me why we are here at this Gala.”

 

You look up, barely catching a grimace as he discreetly spits the questionable hors d'oeuvres into a napkin.

 

“I donated a few million towards the Arts District in Linkon after the big flood. The money went towards renovating the Fine Arts Museum, the symphony hall, the opera house… And the restoration of one of Rafayel’s pieces.”

 

You choke on you cheap champagne. “Rafayel’s pieces?”

 

Sylus looks down, smirking slightly. “Yes, your little artist boyfriend’s piece ‘Siren’s Demise’ was water damaged in the flood.”

 

You flush indignantly. “He isn’t my boyfriend. How do you know that I know him, anyway?”

 

He flashes you a knowing look and you realize of course, that Mephisto definitely gave you away.

 

Sylus takes both of your glasses of unfinished, cheap champagne and handing them to nearby wait staff before casually remarking, “If he isn’t your boyfriend, he wants to be. Speak of the devil.”

 

You whip your head around, and sure enough, Rafayel stands next to his restored painting, looking chic in black slacks and what was probably a blouse from the women’s section.

 

“Hey, cutie,” Rafayel’s smile disappears from his face when he spots Sylus. Crossing his arms, he huffs, refusing to look in your direction.

 

“When you said that you couldn’t bodyguard for me tonight, I didn’t know you were going to be hanging out with a crime lord.”

 

What?

 

You can practically here the rumble in Sylus’s chest as he chuckles with amusement.

 

“Sweetie… you didn’t tell me your little boyfriend was a Lemurian.”

 

Again… what?

 

Both of your heads whip around, staring at Sylus in shock as that devilish smirk grows broader.

 

“What? I know a Lemurian when I see one. So… pretty. I can almost smell the attitude and sparkling scales.”

 

Rafayel flushes heatedly.

 

“Well, I know a Philosian when I see one.”

 

You whip around in shock once more. “What?”

 

“Ashy haired, tall… handsome bastards… the whole lot of you.” Rafayel turns to storm off in a huff and without thinking, you give chase.

 

“Raf!” Its difficult to catch up in heels, but when you do, you find him sulking in a corner trying to collect himself so that the press doesn’t see.

 

“Rafayel, are you ok-“

 

“He just had to be so fucking tall. And handsome. I want to slap his stupid handsome face,” Rafayel mutters under his breath.

 

“Oh, come on. Is it really so bad that I’m out with another friend?” You ask, rolling your eyes.

 

“When they are that handsome? Yes. How am I supposed to compete with that?” He looks even more agitated as he brushes his hair out his eyes. “And why does he have to be so fucking tall?”

 

Both of you practically jump out of your skin as Sylus suddenly appears behind you.

 

“I really had no say in how tall I’d grow. Maybe you should have eaten your vegetables?” Sylus jokes, but it doesn’t do a lick to eliminate the tension in the air.

 

Rafayel’s scowl grows as you spot the paparazzi approaching from behind Sylus’s broad shoulders.

 

“Ugh, I don’t think I can deal with your arrogant ass and Delphy at the same time.” Raf tries to storm off when Sylus reaches out to stop him.

 

“Arrogant?” Sylus tries to sound offended, but you can tell he is amused. “I haven’t spoken but 50 words to you. I’m already arrogant?”

 

Rafayel looks more and more agitated, pulling his elbow out of Sylus’s grip and glaring at Delphy as she approaches closer still with that ridiculous camera and the better than you grin she always seemed to wear when she caught wind of a story.

 

You suddenly double over feigning pain.

 

“I don’t feel so good,” you whimper. “I think those ghastly hors d’oeuvres did me in.”

 

Both bickering men rush to your aid, gently supporting your weight. Sylus grabs his phone, calling a car to be brought around to the front immediately as Rafayel soothingly strokes your back.

 

“You okay?” He whispers into your ear.

 

“Play along. Let’s get out of here before I deck that bitch,” you whisper back and Rafayel grins before picking you up bridal style.

 

“Everyone! Out of the way! There is something wrong with the food!” Rafayel shouts as he runs out the front door towards the car Sylus called for you and suddenly, the 3 of you are packed into the back of a small luxury limo with no plan.

 

Sylus looks at Rafayel with obvious amusement as Rafayel began to visibly panic, having not thought of what could happen next.

 

“Uh… you can let me out on the corner,” Rafayel manages to stammer, grabbing the door handle and trying urgently to let himself out.

 

“The child safety lock is on. We can’t get out,” Sylus remarks with a sly smile before shifting his gaze to you.

 

“Well kitten, our fun got cut short. I wouldn’t mind starting over elsewhere. Your little boyfriend can join.”

 

For a moment, the car is silent and you can’t help but notice Rafayel not interjecting about not being your boyfriend, Sylus’s earlier teasing replaying in your head.

 

‘If he isn’t your boyfriend, he wants to be.’

 

Rafayel’s ear burn bright red, his arms crossed as he sits and simmers in silence.

 

“Rafayel? Do you… do you want to hang out a bit?” You watch as your bratty lemurian friend softens, arms falling to his side, although his gaze remains fixed out the window.

 

“For you. If you are the one asking,” Rafayel mumbles. “And there better be food involved. The Gala food was… appalling.”

 

“That, we can agree on,” Sylus remarks, tapping on the partition. As it lowers, he asks the driver to make a quick stop for takeout.

 

It occurs to you a plan really hadn’t been laid out, but in a few minutes, the car stops and suddenly smells delicious and a few more minutes later, it stops again in front of one of Sylus’s safe houses.

 

And before you knew it, the three of you were sitting in the dining room, the same awkward silence from the car ride following you here as you watch two worlds collide.

 

At least the food was good.

 

Rafayel continued to glare and Sylus continued to smirk and you continued to nervously look back and forth, racking your brain for ways to alleviate the tension when you spot a bottle of gin.

 

Alcohol. Perfect.

 

You shove one final dumpling in your mouth and it seems everyone had an idea to get up at the same time. You stand, Rafayel stands, Sylus stands and you all freeze for a moment before Sylus puts a vinyl record on an antique gramophone.

 

Rhapsody in Blue swells- the kickoff- a playful tune of the clarinet and the environment suddenly feels very American Prohibition. Fitting, given Sylus’s love of Gin Fizz.

 

Rafayel follows you to the kitchen as you ice 3 martini glasses and pull out ingredients to make the only non-martini gin cocktail you know how to make… a southside.

 

“So…” Rafayel says, tone leaning more towards playful. “When did you get cozy with the leader of a criminal syndicate?”

 

You slap fresh mint loudly between your palms to release the aroma before dropping it into the cocktail shaker.

 

“You’re the one that sent me into the N109 zone, Raf. You shouldn’t be surprised that I made a few friends along the way.”

 

Gin, lime juice, simple syrup and ice join the mint and you shake until the metal in your hands becomes so cold it hurts. The ice water chilling the glasses gets tossed into the sink, replaced with the cocktail and garnished with additional mint.

 

“I suppose that’s fair,” he says with a smile, head shifting to the side causing purple bang to tumble into his eyes. “But the Sylus… you make interesting friends.”

 

Rafayel reaches for a fresh cocktail, lifting it to his lips and sipping carefully.

 

“I wasn’t expecting him to be… good looking in person,” he remarks, humming in approval as he takes another sip.

 

“Talking about me?” Sylus drawls from right behind Rafayel causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

 

“Holy SHIT!” Rafayel sets his southside down and rinses the liquor off his hands in the sink. “You walk around like a sneaky… cat. I hate cats.”

 

“Sorry to disturb you.” Sylus’s apology sounds empty as he reaches for a cocktail as well, eyeballing you up and down.

 

“Pet. You look both stunning… and uncomfortable in that gown. There are some spare clothes in the guest room down the hall and to the left if you’d like to get comfy.”

 

You release the breath you had no idea you were holding.

 

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t thinking about it. This dress is heavy.” You down the rest of your drink as Sylus’s fingers trace the jewels on your side.

 

“Hmm… yes. Well, you are wearing nearly a million dollars in rubies,” he nearly purrs in your ear. You refuse to look Rafayel’s way as you here him sputter, spilling his drink once more.

 

“Uh… yes. I guess I will be right back.” You practically rush down the hall with plans to return quickly, but your dress is too heavy and difficult to remove. It takes 5 minutes and a seam ripper to wriggle out of it and when you are free, you are hot and red in the face and need a minute to cool down. The entire time, you worry about how awkward conversation might be while you are gone.

 

To your surprise however, the two seemed to have made themselves more comfortable. Sylus’s coat and tie were draped over a chair with Rafayel’s belt and Rafayel looked a bit disheveled with his blouse untucked and lightly wrinkled.

 

“Sweetie, these were good. How did you make them?” Sylus brandishes an empty glass.

 

Maybe this night wouldn’t be completely awkward.

 

A few more rounds of liquid courage 17 topics later and you find yourself draped on the couch, back firmly pressed against Sylus’s chest and legs in Rafayel’s lap and the way their fingers brush less than innocently against your skin makes you tingle.

 

“Alright, I’ll be honest… I’m having a good time,” Rafayel admits, the tips of his ears burning from the alcohol. “I appreciate the rescue. I hate these galas.”

 

“Mmm, yeah. It did get a lot better, didn’t it?” You can feel Sylus’ chest rumble as he speak and more than your skin tingles as his hand sneaks under your shirt so that his thumb can rub soft circles on your waist.

 

There are a lot of things that you want to blurt out loud, but the alcohol has made your IQ drop at least 10 points and you choose to keep your mouth shut so that you don’t regret your words tomorrow morning.

 

Rafayel throws back the last of his drink before chuckling and leaning back, squeezing your thigh.

 

“So…” He asks more towards Sylus than you. “You didn’t really have to rescue me. So, I guess what I am trying to say is that I appreciate it. But… also, why?”

 

Rafayel’s eyes dart to the exposed skin around your stomach where your shirt has ridden up. You tense slightly as the mood shifts.

 

“Oh… maybe because you are almost as pretty as she is.”

 

Rafayel’s eyebrows shoot up.

 

“Are you… hitting on me?”

 

Oh… oh dear.

 

You feel the grip Rafayel has on your thighs become almost painfully tight.

 

“Isn’t he pretty, kitten?” Sylus whispers in your ear, his lips tickling your earlobe and making you shiver.

 

You nod as Rafayel’s eyes darken.

 

“I… I‘m not sober enough for this conversation. I should go…” Rafayel drawls slowly, but fails to remove himself from the couch.

 

“Oh… I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you while drunk,” Sylus remarks as his lips begin to trail down the side of your neck.

 

Rafayel leans forward, his gaze fixed to the wet trail Sylus leaves on your skin. You stare at him in turn. He looks nothing short of famished. He is a thirsty man in a desert and he looks at you like you are a tall glass of water.

 

“I am very aware of one thing…” Sylus’s lips begin to explore the other side of your neck and you whimper, causing Rafayel’s grip to now become painful.

 

“You’d want her sober.”

 

Oh, shit.

 

Rafayel leans in closer, drawn like a moth to the flame as he watched Sylus do all the things he wished he could do to your body.

 

“Maybe,” Sylus’s hand reaches up your shirt to caress your breast and you moan, twisting as the heat between your legs becomes uncomfortable. “Maybe, I just want to watch two pretty people touch each other.”

 

The only word to describe the expression on Rafayel’s face is slutty. He leans in, lips ghosting over yours before asking, “Only if it’s okay with you?”

 

You answer by pulling lips firmly against your and your world flips upside down as everyone suddenly shifts. Sylus pulls your ass flush against his cock, leaning back, his hand still firmly grasping your breast under your shirt and pulling you back with him. Rafayel responds in kind, crawling on hands and knees so that your lips stay locked.

 

“I’ve always wanted you,” Rafayel practically whimpers against your lips as Sylus’s hands wander into your shorts. You tremble as your lips part and Rafayel’s tongue wrestles with yours as he pulls your shorts off.

 

“Hmm, eager?” Sylus’s teases as Rafayel crouches, hastily kissing up your thighs. You whimper petulantly as Sylus’s fingers test your folds before moving to tease your clit.

 

“Seem you aren’t the only one,” Sylus groans. “Kitten, you are so wet.”

 

Rafayel smacks Sylus’s hand away, his tongue lapping your clit as Sylus pulls your shirt over your head to kiss across your shoulders.

 

“Mmm,” Sylus murmurs against the back of your neck. “He is feral. I like it. Do you like it kitten?”

 

“Yes!” Your hands grip Rafayel’s hair as he begins to slowly pump two fingers inside you and continues to diligently lap at your clit. “I… oh, God! I love it!”

 

Rafayel moans between your legs. “I finally know how you taste. I can’t get enough.” He nuzzles as he laps, nose buried tightly in your navel and his fingers pick up the pace causing you to buck and yelp.

 

Sylus shifts, rutting against your ass and you realize just how huge he feels against you, causing you to shudder.

 

Rafayel suddenly applies rhythmic pressure to your navel with the palm of your hand and you can’t help but shriek as he fingers pump faster as he still works your clit with his tongue.

 

“FUCK! Fuckfuckfuckfuck… gonna cum! Gonna cum!” Your thighs tighten, gripping Rafayel’s head, but it won’t stop him as his tongue continues to carry you through your orgasm and then some.

 

“That’s it, kitty. Let us hear you,” Sylus coos into your ear before nibbling your earlobe.

 

Your body quakes from overstimulation as Rafayel continues. Your toes curl, your grip on his hair tightens and you continue to cry out your bliss as the two men clutching you react.

 

Rafayel finally surfaces for air, kissing a trail up your abdomen before his lips find yours. You taste yourself on him as brings your hand to feel his arousal straining against his pants.

 

“Little dove… did he do good?” Sylus rumbles and you nod, whimpering as you still try to catch your breath.

 

“Then maybe he deserves a reward, hmm? But what kind?”

 

“Fuck,” Rafayel groans against your lips. “Please,” he begs, voice dripping with need.

 

Sylus stands with you in his arms and tugs on Rafayel’s shirt.

 

“Bedroom.”

 

Your panting echoes in the hallway as Sylus carries you to the master suite. He gently sets you down on the bed before reaching for a drawer and pulling out straps.

 

Rafayel joins you on the bed, lips kissing arbitrary patterns across your skins for a moment before gasping upon realizing what Sylus was pulling out of its plastic packaging.

 

“A strap-on? You serious?” Rafayel stammers, eye wide as the dart back and forth between you and Sylus.

 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Sylus says, eyes challenging. “Look me in the eye and you tell me you wouldn’t absolutely love being taken from behind by her.”

 

You playfully hold the strap on up, modeling it against your hips.

 

“I’m down.”

 

Rafayel’s breath catches in his throat. “Fuck.” Beautiful rosy and blue eyes flick back and forth between you and Sylus before he casts his eyes downward, eyes hidden behind long eyelashes. Palming his face, he takes a deep breath and looks at you once more.

 

“Fuuuck.”

 

“Do you want it, Rafayel?” You ask as he sighs burying his in his hands.

 

“Oh… he wants it,” Sylus responds, eye glowing as he reads Rafayel’s desires.

 

You lean in closer, lips gently and sweetly pressing against his as Rafayel pulls you closer against him. You trace soothing patterns across his back until he squeezes you tighter.

 

“You… you don’t think its weird?” he asks hesitantly as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

 

“I think it’s hot.”

 

“FUCK!” You feel Rafayel’s cock jump in his pants. “Yes. Yes. I want it.”

 

Its your turn to flip Rafayel’s world upside down and you do it with glee as you suck red marks across his neck. You cup his erection through is pants and as your teeth begin to nip his collar bone, you unzip his pants and slide them down with his boxers.

 

His cock weeps, pre-cum dripping as you grasp and pump it with slow but firm strokes, causing to hiss as he rutted into your hand.

 

“Shhh. Let me look at you. Take off your shirt.” Rafayel rips his shirt off, and tosses off to the corner and he is flush, panting with blown pupils. His skin is creamy and you nibble near his belly button and tease your way down.

 

“God, please,” he whimpers as grips the bedspread tightly. “I’ve… I’ve waited so long.”

 

You glance over at Sylus who made himself comfortable in an armchair, content to watch you touch his Lemurian guest.

 

“Lube?”

 

Sylus gestures to the small bottle on the bed next to the strap on. You reach for it, coating your fingers generously before circling Rafayel’s little pink, puckered star.

 

Rafayel shivers in anticipation when your lips kiss the head of his pretty cock. He was so worked up; it was almost purple like his hair.

 

“Please-“ he begins to beg when you take his full length in your mouth and push your middle finger in at the same time.

 

“Oh god!” He sobs, back arching against the bed sharply. You push his hips down against the bed and hold him still as your head slowly bobs up and down his length, finger pumping a bit faster.

 

“Fuck… yes… so good,” he cries and encouraged, you slip another finger in, scissoring and stretching him out as he sobs with pleasure.

 

Its feels empowering reducing a Lemurian to tears of pleasure and you relax your jaw, taking his beautiful, weeping cock all the way, his cock entering your esophagus. And with your nose buried deep in a small patch of purple hair, you take a deep breath before your long tongue slowly extend outward to lick his balls causing him to suddenly sit up and grip your hair tightly.

 

“Kitten… I had no idea you were so talented.” Sylus remarks with clear amusement.

 

“I… fuuuuck… I didn’t even know this was possible,” Rafayel pants, eyes wild with disbelief.

 

You slurp on his cock loudly as you return to your rhythm, humming with enthusiasm as your fingers continue to scissor and his hands clench your hair tighter.

 

He moans and moans until he suddenly grows quiet and you know its because he is just about to tip over the edge when you pull back, causing him to whimper, nearly pouting as he is denied his orgasm.

 

“Soon,” You promise as you equip yourself with the strap-on.

 

“Oh, God. Th-this is really happening,” Rafayel stutters.

 

“Only of you want it to happen,” you reassure before he shakes his head.

 

“Please. I need this,” he groans as he gets on his hands and knees.

 

“Facing me,” Sylus directs and Rafayel shifts. “I want to see both of your faces.”

 

You coat the dildo generously with lube before settling behind Rafayel, your heart pounding in anticipation. You kiss soft trails across his back reassuringly as you slowly push the dildo inside him, causing him to hiss with pleasure.

 

“He looks so pretty on his hands and knees, doesn’t he, sweetie?” Sylus remarks with mirth.

 

“Mmm, so pretty. You ready for me to move, pretty baby?” You ask and Rafayel nods as he gasps.

 

Your hands move to firmly grip his waist and you move, rearing back before carefully pushing forward.

 

“Good?” You ask as he mewls.

 

“God, YES!” He cries and its more than enough for you to set an impressive pace, fucking him the way you’ve always wanted to be fucked. With every few thrusts, you change angles slightly, hoping to find his sweet spot. You relish the sounds each thrust elicits when suddenly-

 

“OH, FUCK! OH, GOD!”

 

You found it.

 

A goal. A singular goal. You picture the spot in your head and proceed to ram the ever-loving-shit out of it as Sylus roars with approval.

 

“If you could just see the slutty look on his pretty face, kitten.”

 

You could picture it in your head and you bite your lip as beautiful scales reveal themselves around his neck and down his back.

 

You continue what can only be described as sensuous assault against Rafayel’s prostate when his elbows give out and he plops down, face buried in the sheets. You lose the angle, but only for a second and as you adjust and find it. As you pound into it, he cries out louder.

 

You see his elbow began to move, matching the pace you’ve set and you give his ass a sharp, stinging slap.

 

“Oh, he wants to touch himself so badly, kitten,” Sylus remarks, but its obvious in the way Rafayel sobs wantonly into the sheets beneath him.

 

You lean forward, gripping his hair firmly, turning his head just enough so that he can see you.

 

“You are going to cum because I fucked the shit out of you. No touching yourself.” Rafayel nods and cries out louder as you resume your pace.

 

“Please! Please! I’m so close!” Rafayel sobs and you hit that sweet spot with more enthusiasm when his body starts to quake.

 

“That’s it,” Sylus hums as he strokes himself over his pants and you hear cum splatter against the sheets underneath you.

 

“Good boy,” You coo, leaning to kiss across Rafayel’s back as he continues to cum on the sheets and you reach between his legs to stroke out the rest.

 

“God, Raf. You are so pretty when you come,” Sylus hums as he rises, stripping himself of clothing quickly as Rafayel collapses on the bed.

 

The strap on is ripped off in second and Sylus suddenly pins you to the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Raf and he pushes your lips to his.

 

You kiss him sweetly as he pants beside you and Sylus positions himself between your legs.

 

“That was so hot, I don’t think I’m going to last at all,” Sylus groans through gritted teeth, but he plunges inside you with zeal, leaning over to pull Raf closer for a three-way kiss as you moan, legs circling him.

 

Fuck… finally. You feel so full, his cock stretching you out blissfully, hitting all of the right spots and you realize you aren’t going to last long either. At some point you said it out loud, but your lips become pre-occupied with Raf’s once more and you moan into his mouth as Sylus grunts and uses your body, seeking the relief he’d been denying himself up to this point.

 

“Fuck, kitten! This is bliss,” Sylus sinks his teeth into the flesh around your pulse point and the pain causes your pussy to throb as he takes you roughly.

 

“Fuck! Oh! Ohh!” You cry-out, back arching as he hits that spot that makes you see stars over and over.

 

Raf, still a puddle of goo, reaches over to rub your clit and its game over. You feel your pussy throb violently as you cry out with pleasure, legs shaking around Sylus as he groans with approval.

 

“Goddamn…” He pants, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Should I pull out?”

 

“Fuck no!” you shout and he moans as his hips faulter, sputtering as his cock expands and explodes inside you, panting and groaning with satisfaction, before he collapses to your side.

 

The three of you lie in silence, save for the panting you can’t seem to slow down.

 

“Alright…,” Rafayel starts first. “What the fuck… was that?”

 

“Whatever it was, it was fun,” you answer, suddenly shy as a blush blooms across your face.

 

“It should happen again sober,” Sylus adds, turning on his side so that he can wrap his arms around you. “That way, I can be sure you are consenting for all the things I want to do you to.” Sylus gently pinches Rafayel’s cheek causing him to huff indignantly.

 

“You… are lucky you are so goddamn handsome.”

 

You erupt in a fit of giggles in between them causing the both of them to smirk.

 

“We should probably get cleaned up…” you ponder aloud as Sylus pulls you closer to spoon you and grabs Raf’s elbow, encouraging him to become your little spoon, but only so he can drape his arm over the two of you at the same time.

 

“Later,” Sylus hums happily. “Lets just take a few minutes to breathe.”

 

But the three of you fade to black, the exhaustion and alcohol vapors lulling you to comfortable sleep. And when you wake, you know, things will never be the same again.

Chapter 2: Picking up pieces

Summary:

The sober follow up everyone wanted.

Chapter Text

Warm… too warm in fact as you struggle with the heavy weight draped across your chest. Before you can even think about what it is that is pinning you down, simply trying to shift in any direction causes your head to pulse like it’s about to split in two. Your mouth feels like cotton and tastes like death and your eyes refuse to focus as they open to search for answers.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you wait for your surroundings to come into focus. It smells like sex all around you.

Slowly, through your suffering and confusion, the beauty lying next you becomes clear. Rafayel’s breathing is slightly labored as glittering scales twinkle across his skin. He is too cool to the touch and you try and shift to pull a blanket over him but your body is stuck under the heavy weight still draped across your chest.

A deep, soothing rumble comes from behind you and the owner of that raspy baritone places a gentle, claiming kiss on your shoulder. Only then do you realize that the weight across your chest is Sylus’s massive arm.

“God, it smells awful in here,” you murmur as you smack your lips and gag at the almost vomit like taste in the back of your throat, signs that you clearly had too much to drink the night prior.

Not that waking up between two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen wasn’t an indicator.

“Morning, kitten,” Sylus hums, his voice rich and maddeningly calm against your throbbing skull. You groan in protest as his arm tightens around you, pulling you back into the furnace that is his body.

“Don’t ‘morning kitten’ me,” you rasp, clutching your head. “I think my brain’s trying to crawl out through my ears.”

Sylus chuckles, lightly amused and utterly unaffected. “I suspected you would be hungover in the morning.”

You twist weakly to glare at him. “You’re telling me you’re fine?”

“Can’t get a hangover,” he reminds you gently. “My evol is good for many things.” His grin turns teasing. “If you resonate with me for a few minutes, I could share the recovery. It’d be like… a kiss that fixes your headache.”

You snort, half-annoyed, half-tempted. “This just sounds like one of many excuses to try and practice again.”

“Two things can be true at once,” Sylus teases, eyes glinting. “But results are immediate. Maybe we should test it in the shower?”

You’re about to retort when a low, guttural sound interrupts. Not from Sylus, but from the other side of the bed. Rafayel stirs, scales flickering in the dim morning light. His breathing is shallow, his expression a grimace, and the bright humor drains from the room in an instant.

“Raf?” you start, voice soft, but the Lemurian only grumbles in response, rolling away from you both. His scales catch the light in a shimmering display, and a faint blush creeps over the edges of his neck.

Sylus’s expression changes in an instant. The teasing warmth he’d worn seconds ago disappears, replaced by something still and cautious.

“Right,” he murmurs, sitting up, voice suddenly distant. “You should rest a little longer. I will… get you some water.”

It’s not unkind, but the shift feels abrupt. Cold, even. You blink at his back, confused as he slips from the bed without another word.

Rafayel makes a low, irritated sound, pulling the blanket higher around his shoulders. “Guess someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he mutters.

Sylus rises quietly and slips from the room, returning a moment later with a small tray holding three glasses of water. He sets them down carefully, eyes scanning both of you but saying nothing.

Rafayel picks up his glass, taking a long drink before letting out a low, bratty hum. “Well… suddenly quiet,” he says, lips curled into something between a frown and a pout. “Regretting what happened last night?”

Sylus freezes mid-step, his expression tightening just enough to be noticed, though his voice stays calm. “You can use the safe house for as long as you need,” he replies evenly, placing the last glass on the nightstand. He turns and exits again, leaving a quiet weight in the room that feels heavier than the morning hangover.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes on the nightstand: a simple text from him.

“Don’t wait up. Call my driver when you are ready to go home.”

No explanation, no hint of why he suddenly disappeared. Just… gone.

Rafayel sits on the edge of the bed, sipping water slowly, his scales dull under the dim light. His purple eyelashes droop, and his lips press together in a pout. There’s a flash of shame in his eyes, but it’s quickly buried under the edge of his Ebb-day misery.

Without a word, he pushes himself off the bed, muttering, “Can’t deal with this room right now,” and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the tap running, then a splash as he climbs into a tub full of cold water. The sudden chill makes him shiver, but he doesn’t complain.

You stay where you are, trying to nurse the hangover beating in your skull. Head pounding, stomach queasy, you cradle the water glass Sylus left and take slow sips. You glance toward the bathroom, watching Rafayel settle into the tub, his shoulders tense and his hands gripping the sides.

Neither of them speak with you for the rest of the morning. You’re stuck in the middle, left to puzzle out the sudden, silent tension, while your hangover reminds you that the morning isn’t going to be easy.

True to Sylus’s word, he doesn’t return. You spend the day trying to comfort your Lemurian… lover? Friend? Situationship? But he simply pushes you away. It isn’t the first time he has demanded that you leave him alone during Ebb day.

But it stings as much as it did last time.

*

Rafayel doesn't text you the next day. You wondered if he was still in a bad mood, but you don't recall it lasting this long last time. Or the time before. Tara is the first to notice that your performance is a bit off at work. But how can you focus when he won’t call back?

“Hey… are you okay?” she asks, brow furrowed. “You’ve been… off. Totally different from usual.”

How can you explain that your brain has been hijacked by worry, obsession, and research? Three days of unanswered calls and texts. Dozens of searches on tide days, ebb days, el Niño, Lemurian cycles… anything that might shed light on his silence.

You sip your coffee and sigh, wondering if you’re overthinking, or if the silence is the message in itself.

Sylus on the other hand is a little bit more communicative than usual. The notifications that you hope would eventually be from Rafayel are almost always from him.

“Mephisto says you’ve been pacing a lot today.”
“How is your little Lemurian boyfriend doing?”

You stare at your phone, contemplating if you should hit send on the message explaining that Rafayel has ghosted you for the past 3 days.

You don’t.

Maybe there are better, more mature ways to handle the silence, but you decide you don’t have the patience to wait for an answer any longer. You grab dinner for two, a peace offering, and head towards Rafayel’s studio.

He doesn’t notice your arrival, staring at a large canvas with a blank expression that’s so dull, it pains your heart. His painting seems lifeless, even to your untrained eye. You pause.

Should you even be here right now?

But you came all this way and perhaps its self-serving to demand answers. Still, you need to know.

“It’s been three days,” you say clearly, factually, with no accusation in your tone.

“Yeah?” His shoulders slump before he turns to look at you. “Has it been that long?”

There are slight bags under his eyes and the same deep fatigue in his bones that he always gets when he loses himself in days worth of art.

You set the dinner on a small table, letting the quiet stretch between you. He doesn’t move, eyes fixed somewhere past the room like he’s trying to disappear into the walls.

“I… brought something,” you say softly, nodding toward your take-out bags. “Figured we could eat dinner together.”

He finally glances at you, eyes soft with a small amount of hurt. “You didn’t have to.” The words are clipped, almost dismissive, but the flicker in his eyes betrays something else as well. Guilt… maybe even shame.

You sit on the edge of a nearby chair, careful not to crowd him. “It’s been three days,” you say gently, “and you haven’t answered any of my messages. I just… wanted to know if you’re okay.”

He flinches but doesn’t respond. Instead, he picks at a corner of the table, staring down at the floor. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he mutters finally. “I just… needed space.”

You nod slowly, swallowing your frustration. Space, of course. You understand that, but the silence still stings. You pick at your own plate, letting him stew in it, trying to give him room to find the words he can’t yet say.

The clink of the fork against the plate echoes in the quiet room, louder than it should. You glance at him, hoping for some sign that he’s processing your presence without shutting down entirely.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, and his fingers drum restlessly on the table. “I… didn’t know if you’d even come,” he mutters, almost to himself.

Your stomach tightens. “Of course I did,” you say softly. “I wanted to see you.”

His head snaps up for a fleeting second, eyes wide, sharp, almost fearful. “After everything that night. And at the Gala with him,” he says, voice catching. “I thought maybe you… maybe you’d throw me away.”

You blink, taken aback. “Rafayel… what are you talking about?”

“I saw how comfortable you were with him. With Sylus,” he said quietly, his voice still somehow wounded. “It doesn’t feel good to be the toy or 3rd wheel in your relationship with him.”

A knot tightens in your chest. He’s been spinning in a loop of imagined betrayals, afraid your ease with Sylus meant you had some prior, established relationship, and that you might… toss him aside as easily as he fears.

You reach out tentatively, placing a hand over his. “Raf… I’m not exactly sure what’s going on in your head right now, but I’m certain you are wrong.”

He flinches at your touch, still bristling but softening just slightly. “But you seemed so at ease with him.” His voice trails off. “Like it wasn’t your first time bringing a playmate home.”

You squeeze his hand gently. “It was the first time. Raf… that was my first time with both of you and I have no intention to let you go.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, a mix of relief, residual fear, and stubborn pride all tangled in his expression. He doesn’t fully relax, but the rigid wall he’s built in the last three days begins to crack.

“I thought you picked him. I thought all the time we had spent together amounted to nothing…” he sighs. It sounds like regret and relief all at once. “And then when Sylus left. It felt like the fun was over. I was no longer of use to you.”

You hear a faint, mechanical rustle of feathers brushing against each other with a precision only something artificial could produce. You glance toward the window sill and catch the subtle glint of Mephisto, watching silently. Clearly, Sylus has invested interest, and in the moment, it annoys you that you don’t know why.

“Of… of use to us?” you whisper as the ache in your chest twists painfully. It hurts to hear him think of himself like that, as if he were some object rather than the person you care for so fiercely. You reach out, tracing his jaw lightly, as if to remind him that he is more than what he fears.

“I could never think of you like that,” you murmur softly, the words meant only for him. “You’re not a tool or a toy… and I’ve been worried sick.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze immediately, but you can see the flicker in his eyes.

Rafayel finally exhales a reluctant breath. “But Sylus just… walked away like that night meant nothing… please don’t throw me away like that.”

This man is not the same, playful, charming, boyish man you body guard. This man is raw in his vulnerability and shy at the mere thought of rejection.

And unable to find the words to express the sheer need you feel for him, instead, you rush forward to claim his lips with yours.

You can see the shock in his eyes for a brief moment, but the electric thrill through his body when your lips meet makes him reboot, hands immediately pulling you close by your waist before he picks you up.

Your lips move with desperate urgency, hands tangling in his hair as his fingers clutch your waist, lifting you closer, pressing your body flush against his. The world narrows to the heat of your shared bodies and friction as he grinds against you. Every brush of his thigh, every tense press of his hips sets fire along your skin, a magnetic pull you both can’t resist.

Rafayel moans into your mouth, teeth and tongue colliding in a deliciously messy dance. You arch against him, shoving your hips forward, feeling the strain of his arousal through his pants. His hands explore your back, your sides, gripping, kneading, as if he’s trying to ground himself in you.

You break briefly for air, foreheads pressed together, chests heaving, eyes dark with need. “You’re mine,” you murmur, voice rough, almost desperate. His smirk, a ghost of his usual playfulness, flashes as he bites gently at your collarbone. “Not letting go,” he huffs, grinding against you harder, his hands sliding lower, teasing along your hips and thighs.

The room swells with the sound of your ragged breaths, the hot friction, the heat that builds impossibly fast. Every kiss, every rub, every press is charged, urgent, a mixture of want and need that neither of you can or wants to restrain.

Then, Rafayel’s eyes darken as they look past you as a figure appears at the door.

Sylus.

Rafayel pushes up and off you before pulling you up to face his uninvited guest. He looks sharp. Angry, even. And before you can mediate Rafayel says sharply, “The hell are you doing marching in here?”

Sylus pauses in the doorway for a moment, red eyes calculating as Rafayel attempts to shield you with his body. He steps forward, his gaze flicking between the two of you. The tension in the room is electric, and Rafayel stiffens, bristling like a cornered cat.

“I heard everything,” Sylus begins, cautious, but honest. He takes another step, careful not to advance too quickly. “Rafayel… you are not trash. I hate that I made you feel that way.”

He turns with a pout. “Well, you did. Not a word from you for three days. What am I supposed to think after you got what you wanted.”

Sylus looks at you, then at the pouty man shielding you and sits down calmly, not breaking eye contact. “That wasn’t everything that I wanted.”

Rafayel huffs, avoiding his gaze.

“What if I said I want more?”

Rafayel pauses, arms crossed but shoulders drooping.

Sylus reaches out to brush Rafayel’s chin lightly as he squeezes your thigh. “Rafayel. I know what a heat cycle looks like when I see one. How do you think I felt, worried that the night prior might have just been hormones and not how you really feel about us? How can I be certain that you are the one making all the decisions when you are in heat?”

There is something achingly sincere in Sylus’s gaze and it captivates you as you watch him try to break the Lemurian’s walls.

Rafayel flushes as he tries and fails to mask the mixture of frustration and relief. He swallows hard, eyes darting between you and Sylus, unsure what to do next.

“You left because you didn’t want to take advantage of me?” he mutters in disbelief.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Sylus’s eyes shift to you. “And I must admit, I’ve thought of little else but the two of you since that night.”

And there it is, in his softened gaze as he tenderly cradles your face with one hand and pulls Rafayel closer with the other. A reason to hope that there is something that can be salvaged from this mess for all three of you.

Sylus’s thumb traces Rafayel’s supple, soft lips. “What can I do to make it right?”

You watch Rafayel soften, eyes hazy, his color a dusting of light pink as he reaches for you too, firmly cupping your ass as he pulls you against his side.

“I need attention,” Rafayel mumbles softly. “From both of you.”

“I can do that,” you answer before leaning in, lips kissing trails down his neck and you swear, this man whimpers as Sylus threads his fingers into his hair and pulls his head back to raise his lips.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Sylus says quietly before Raf flushes red.

“What I need is for you to keep going,” Rafayel breathes, rosy eyes darkening as Sylus kisses him, lips automatically parting as you both grab him, trying to guide him into two different directions.

You try to take them towards the bed, but Sylus, with a firm grip around Rafayel’s waist, pulls his body flush against his and you moan, content to watch as two gorgeous men devour each other.

Before you can pull back and find a seat to simply watch, they both reach out to grab you and pull you in.

“I said both of you,” Rafayel whines and you are pulled into a sloppy, needy three-way kiss as you giggle, tripping over each other through the hallway.

The kiss deepens as three bodies hit the bed and in a flurry fueled by need, all three of you reach out to help each other disrobe. Sylus’s coat slips off his shoulders. you tug it free, only to find another layer beneath it, with complicated chains and straps that refuse to yield.

“Who designed this?” you mutter as Rafayel snickers against your throat. “A sadist?”

“Fashion,” Rafayel manages to breathe between kisses, “is suffering.”

Sylus hums in agreement, his fingers deft where yours are clumsy. “Then let me ease your pain.” His tone is teasing, but the deliberate way his hands move makes your pulse skip. He unhooks a clasp near your collarbone, and you feel his breath against the newly bared skin.

By the time you are collectively bare, you’re breathless. Half from the giggling, half from the ache that’s built between all the stolen touches. Sylus’s hands find your waist; Rafayel’s lips brush your jaw. Every movement feels deliberate now, a silent promise that what was broken might actually be made whole again, one kiss, one touch at a time.

You fall back against the sheets, the air leaving your lungs in a soft gasp. Rafayel follows without hesitation, his body fitting against yours as though it’s instinct. His hair brushes your cheek and his breath hot against your lips before he claims your mouth again.

Then Sylus moves in, slow and deliberate, his shadow stretching across both of you. The bed dips under his weight. He leans in behind Rafayel, hands sliding up the Lemurian’s sides with the same care he’d use to handle a precious artifact. His lips find the back of Rafayel’s neck, and the sound that slips from Rafayel’s throat sends a pulse straight through you.

You open your eyes just long enough to see Sylus’s red gaze lift to meet yours over Rafayel’s shoulder. There’s something unspoken there—an understanding that this isn’t a casual want or fleeting fancy. His mouth trails another kiss along Rafayel’s skin before he murmurs, low and quiet, “Let’s do it right.”

You feel Rafayel tremble slightly, and you cup his face, forcing him to look down at you. “Hey,” you whisper, brushing your thumb along his jaw. “You are still going to be mine tomorrow. You’re not some play thing I’m going to throw away.”

He swallows hard, eyes glassy, and then he kisses you again, a whimpering, beautiful, needy mess. Behind him you look up to see Sylus pull Rafayel’s hips back and kiss down his back.

How did you get here? How is this possible? Rafayel’s lips feel incredible as they kiss their way down your body. His hands feel warm as they knead your breasts. You arch, moaning as he nibbles across your waist, unable to stop watching as Sylus worships Rafayel the same way.

Your thighs tremble with anticipation when he finally breathes on your pussy lips. He looks at you, blush burning bright, eyes hooded as he asks silently for permission. But when you nod, he gasps suddenly, back arching as you see Sylus start prepping Rafayel.

“Sylus,” he chokes out, burying his face into the mattress between your thighs and moaning—an unbridled and slutty display as he reaches back, ass still up in the air, to spread his cheeks wider for Sylus.

Sylus’s red eyes glow, twinkling past Rafayel’s shoulder at you and everything, everything about that moment makes you wet and weak. The way Rafayel feebly kisses your thighs, even as Sylus stretches him out. The way Rafayel’s cock weeps copious pre-cum onto the sheets below him. The way even Sylus looks weak, unable to deny himself any longer what both you and Rafayel were ready to give.

“Kitten… he is so perfect, isn’t he?” Sylus rumbles and you moan your agreement as Rafayel repositions himself, that perfect nose, still dusted red bumping against your clit before his tongue begins a slow, wet swipe up your slit.

Bracing himself better on his elbows, he leans forward, pressing your clit harder with his tongue as he spreads your lips with his fingers. You gasp as he moans into your pussy, two fingers sliding in, ass still high in the air as you arch under his touch.

And as both he and Sylus seem to find a rhythm, both syncing up, fingers pumping furiously as you fist Rafayel’s hair and arch, screaming as the tip of his tongue flicks against your clit and his fingers pump deep inside you.

“Oh! Oh, GOD!” you cry out. It’s overwhelming and heady as the scent of sex surrounds you. Rafayel’s fingers plunge deep, hitting all the right places as he continues to moan into your pussy, the sound making you tingle pleasantly.

Behind Raf, Sylus strokes his cock, giant, weeping and red, slowly with one hand as the other works diligently to prep Rafayel for his size. Your stomach twists, heart pounding as you watch. It’s that moment that it hits you. Sylus is big. Sylus is huge. His size nearly overwhelmed you the last time you took it, and that strap-on you fucked Raf with was nowhere near as big.

You pause for a moment, fingers stilling in his hair as your chest rises and falls. “Raf…” you whisper, voice soft just for a beat, “are you really sure this is what you want?”

For a fraction of a second, his eyes flick up to yours. You feel your pulse tighten at the vulnerability there. He swallows hard, lips trembling, and for a heartbeat you wonder if you’ve pushed too far.

Then he leans closer, nose buried against your clit with greater urgency. His hands tighten slightly, his desperate little whimpers and the flush spreading across his cheeks all scream yes.

Heat surges through you at the sight, your body responding before your mind can catch up. He wants this. He wants both of you. And he’ll do anything, be anything, just to please you.

“It’s… so good!” You praise as the sensation swells. You’re close, and ridiculously hot, unable to resist the urge to grind against his face. And when you do, he moans more urgently into your pussy as you hear Sylus’s hand slam into him faster.

“Oh, fuck!” Rafayel cries suddenly, a smirk on Sylus’s face as his fingers curl into his prostate. He collapses, forehead pressing against your navel, adding delicious pressure as his fingers continue to move inside you.

“Fishie… she is close. I can see it,” Sylus teases as the both of you whimper beneath him. You are indeed close, huffing, red in the face, back arching. And even though Raf can barely tolerate Sylus expertly stroking his gland, his own fingers pump faster in you.

“Right there! Right there! Right fucking there!” You cry out as his finger find your g-spot with each thrust. And with hands pulling his hair just enough to hurt a bit, your thighs clench around him as you come, walls pulsing and eyes rolling back into your head.

“God, you are so pretty when you come, sweetie,” Sylus remarks as you gasp desperately for air, Raf still panting between your legs, hand now abandoning your pussy to stroke his cock. He grunts, desperately twitching as Sylus adds another finger. Then he lifts his head, eyes connecting with yours, face contorted with pleasure.

Buzzing in a state of euphoria, you stroke his hair as he chokes on jibberish. Words escape him as he trembles on Sylus’s fingers.

Sylus purrs with satisfaction as he reduces Rafayel to pieces and with a long moan, and fevered strokes, he comes, spurting in bursts sobbing with relief until he collapses forward onto your stomach.

The air feels heavier now, and so do your limbs. You feel the mattress dip beside you as Sylus settles in on his side, his heat and scent welcome as your arms embrace Rafayel. You kiss purple hair, nose buried in soft tresses and inhale the scent of sweat and shampoo as Sylus’s arm slides around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his skin seeps into yours, the kiss to your cheek making you smile.

Rafayel shifts to get more comfortable, head nestled against your breasts and hums in satisfaction as Sylus’ reaches out to trace gentle soothing lines up and down his spine. It carries so much more than lust. There is something protective… even reverent in his touch.

Raf hums against your chest before reaching out and cupping Sylus’s cock sensually.

“Still need to take care of you,” he whispers between deep breaths as Sylus pushes up to press a kiss to his temple.

“The night is not done yet,” he states simply and you and Raf can only nod. “Take time to breathe before the next part.”

The promise in Sylus’s voice makes you tremble and mewl quietly as he presses a tender kiss to your lips. It re-ignites a fire in your blood… and Raf’s apparently as his cock twitches against your thigh.

“You both are incredible,” Sylus rumbles satisfactorily as he continues to kiss on both of you, red eyes twinkling as they sweep over both of you with gratitude.

“This is all so new,” Rafayel sighs, biting his lip. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sylus shifts, getting back behind Rafayel, kissing passionately across his shoulders, making him blush. “It’s simple.”

He presses another kiss to his neck. “You are going to fuck her.” He gently nibbles at his earlobe. “I’m going to fuck you.”

Both you and Rafayel shiver.

It’s outrageous, really. And yet, something all of you need, something you crave. You need them both. It feels like a bond, solidified with blood and sweat and passion—a dance you must finish before morning comes.

You cup Rafayel’s face and look into glassy, rosy eyes. “You’re doing so good, baby.” You reassure gently as Sylus prepares with more lube, coating his cock generously.

“You are too,” Raf assures right back as he settles between your legs, kissing you gently and again with more passion as he positions himself, the tip of his cock dragging between your pussy lips. With his lips firmly interlocked with yours, his hips push against yours, cock stretching inside you at an angle that burns so good. You moan into his lips, fingers clutching at the small hairs on the back of his neck.

He freezes when he feels the tip of Sylus’s cock on his pucker.

“Hey… hey,” you hold his face gently with your hands, forcing him to look at you. He is red, panting, pupils dilated, completely flush and on the verge of panic. “You are doing good, sweetie. We can take it slow or we can stop.”

Raf shakes his head vigorously. “I don’t want to stop… but,” you try to kiss away the panic in his eyes. “What if I’m not good?”

“You are more than good,” you whisper as you kiss him again. Sylus murmurs in agreement.

“It’s already amazing because it’s us,” he reassures softly into Raf’s ear before guiding his thumb to your clit. “You don’t have to worry about anything but slow, gentle circles. The pressure from what I’m doing will take care of the rest. Okay?”

Rafayel bites his lip as Sylus’s words tickle his ear before nodding. “Okay,” he agrees quietly before his thumb begins, working gentle circles that make you mewl beneath him.

“See? You are doing so good,” Sylus reassures, kissing his shoulder once more before pushing forward.

“Oh!” Rafayel yelps, hips bucking into yours making your eyes roll back as the head of Sylus’s cock pushed past his tight ring. Sylus pauses, giving him a moment to adjust, rubbing his back gently.

Rafayel takes a deep shuddering breath before nodding, thumb never ceasing its steady rhythm. And before Sylus goes any further, he reassures the both of you once more. “Tell me to stop and I will stop.”

And slowly, with much more patience than you had with Rafayel the other night, his hips begin a sensuous pace, making Rafayel moan, eyes closing with pleasure before he buries his head in the crook of your neck. His thumb never ceases, only moving with more confidence against your clit making you whimper heatedly with each pass.

He moans directly in your ear, making you hotter, as your muscles arch beneath him, lips parting in a silent chant, yes, yes… this is everything that you could ever dream for yourself and more as the pressure from Sylus’s gentle thrusts causes Rafayel’s cock to plunge deeper inside you. You can feel his hips wriggle, pressing back into Sylus’s pelvis.

Any caution or hesitation Rafayel had was gone, replaced with pleasure so intense, the only words he can manage are a string of curses as the fingers of his other hand cup and squeeze your ass.

Encouraged, Sylus thrusts with more and more force, grunting, pleased, hands gripping Rafayel’s waist tighter and tighter, the pressure making you scream.

And Rafayel… Rafayel… starts crying out in Lemurian.

“Lian… oh, lian vese!” Your fingers clutch at his shoulders as you feel Sylus grip your knees for better leverage. The pressure increases with each thrust, Sylus grunting, eyes savagely intense as his force brings more pleasure to all three of you.

Then Raf arches, eyes burning, lips parted, thumb still circling your clit with desperate pressure, when you feel his cock expand inside you, still shouting in Lemurian. “Merae t’hal! Merae t’hal!”

Oh god, that’s hot.

“Rafayel? Did you come?” He collapses on top of you, twitching, whimpering, nodding, refusing to abandon your clit as he descends into overstimulated madness.

“Sylus, stop. Its too much for him. He came—”
            “DON’T STOP,” the lemurian shouts, thumb rubbing faster, forcing you to abandon your words as you moan, the pressure making you vibrate as the sensation swells higher. You are close, the pleasure shooting all the way down to your toes.

“Good. So fucking good. Good boy,” Sylus grunts as he presses another kiss to Raf’s shoulders before his hips piston faster, the pressure making both of you scream as the weight of two men hammers against your pelvis.

“I’m coming! Oh god, I’m coming,” you squeal as your legs shake, feet planted on the bed, back arching enough to push Raf backwards into Sylus making him yell in response.

“Merae t’hal!” he shouts once more, the beautiful, ancient language sounds like heavens decree as it leaves his tongue. Sylus pants, cock slamming into Rafayel’s prostate with shallower but more powerful thrusts. Your pussy walls are dancing, squeezing, milking Rafayel’s cock tightly until his thumb finally abandons your clit so that he can grab your chin and bring your lips to him, chanting Lemurian between kisses until he cries again, spilling himself inside you once more.

You can’t breathe.

Your vision is blurry.

You whisper a silent prayer to the gods. You don’t even know what you are asking for.

Your eyes lock with Sylus’s intense gaze. His teeth are gritted. Sweat shines across his brow. He has you and Rafayel wrecked beneath you and he is still going.

But you can tell from the heat in his eyes, he is so close, aether core glowing, pleasure seeping out with each groan he utters.

“Incredible,” he grunts as his hips stutter, abs twitching as he finds his release, deep inside Rafayel who is still connected to you. a whimpering, twitching, beautiful mess of a Lemurian becomes limp against you as Sylus pulls out, taking shakey steps before falling on the bed at your side.

And after a couple of deep breaths, Rafayel crawls over Sylus to settle on the other side.

The three of you sigh with contentment, both you and Raf curling up on Sylus’s chest.

The room is quiet now. The kind of quiet that hums with spent energy and the echo of shared breath. You can still feel your pulse in your ears, the warmth of their skin against yours, the faint scent of salt and sweat lingering in the air.

Sylus is the first to move. His breathing slows as he brushes damp hair from your forehead, thumb tracing your temple with an absent tenderness. “You okay, sweetie?” he murmurs, voice thick with care.

You nod, too dazed to speak, and feel Rafayel shift beside you still trembling slightly, but calmer now. His face is buried against Sylus’s shoulder.

Sylus leans over and presses a kiss to Rafayel’s hair. “Breathe, Fishie,” he says gently. “You did good.”

Rafayel hums softly in response, the sound small and vulnerable. You reach up to stroke his cheek, and he turns his face into your palm, eyes glassy but peaceful.

There’s a stillness that follows… a fragile kind of silence that feels sacred. The kind where no one needs to speak because every touch, every slow inhale, says enough.

Sylus’s arm wraps around both of you, pulling you closer into the curve of his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, grounding you both. You breathe in sync for a while, the warmth and weight of their bodies slowly easing your trembling muscles.

When Sylus finally speaks again, it’s barely above a whisper. “No one rushes anything. We stay right here until everyone’s okay.”

You smile faintly against his chest. Rafayel’s fingers find yours, intertwining with sleepy clumsiness.

A long moment passes before he mumbles, voice hoarse but playful, “My bathtub is big enough for three.”

Sylus chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest against your cheek. “A bath sounds like a good idea right now.”

He untangles himself from the both of you, disappearing into the bathroom where moments later, you hear the tap turn on. He rummages through Rafayel’s belongings, enhancing the bath with Epsom salt and oils that smell good before you and Rafayel help each other up and out of bed, heavy feet padding into the bathroom.

You groan as you sink into water that is just hot enough to zap the ache from your pelvis and get comfy as your… boyfriends? settle into the tub with you.

The water is warm and soothing, lapping gently around your shoulders. You sink in deeper with a soft groan, letting the heat chase away every ache from your body. Rafayel slides in beside you, pressing close enough that your thighs brush, and lets out a slow, satisfied sigh.

Sylus eases in on the other side, and for a long while, none of you speaks. Only the soft splash of water, the occasional sigh, and the steady rhythm of each other’s breathing fill the bathroom.

You close your eyes, tilting your head back as Sylus’s arm brushes against your shoulder, fingers idly tracing lazy circles that make you shiver in the most comfortable way. Rafayel hums softly, nudging into your side, and you reach for his hand, intertwining fingers.

The quiet stretches, rich and unspoken, until Sylus finally murmurs, “I’m not disappearing tomorrow. Let me take both of you out.”

You open your eyes to meet his, the expression warm and steady, and Rafayel grins faintly, letting out a happy, contented sigh that makes your chest ache in the best way.

The three of you settle back into the water, just holding the space.

Boyfriends. That’s what they are. Your boyfriends.

Notes:

If you like this- COMMENT BECAUSE YOUR GIRL NEEDS DOPAMINE.

I have more works-
A Xavier Praise Kink fic that many have said is quite... healing.
A Zayne fic with video chat sex and a fully fleshed Silent Poem Card.
AND A WHOLE ASS GANGBANG I AM OBSESSED WITH.

Good luck with that rabbit hole. If you've made it all the way here, thanks. Love ya.