Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The den is dim, soft lights glimmering against Rain’s skin. His own glow flickers to the music’s heavy rhythm - a current winding just beneath the surface. The beat pulses through the room, low and sultry, like something primal beneath the floorboards. It’s the kind of sound someone feels before they hear; a slow, rolling thrum.

The air is thick with heat and motion. Sweat, incense, and the ghost of something floral curl in the space between bodies. Shadows slip and swirl across the walls. Ghouls and Siblings drift close, then pull apart again, dancing in loops and half-formed patterns that never quite settle.

Rain dances between Swiss and Aurora, caught in a shared current. Aurora’s laughter bubbles just behind him, her small frame a flash of sharp hips and clever footwork. Swiss looms on the other side, fluid despite his size, matching Rain’s rhythm with slow, heavy ease that makes everything feel a little deeper.

But Rain’s in his own orbit.

His shirt clings and shifts with each motion, sweat blooming faintly where fabric kisses skin. He lifts a hand, dragging it over his chest, fingers wide - up across his shoulder and neck, tipping his head back into the touch. His eyes close. A small, unguarded smile flickers across his lips.

The hem of his shirt rises as he turns, flashing a sliver of stomach - that soft, luminous skin above his waistband. He rolls his hips through the beat, fluid and fearless, motion rippling through his ribs and into his spine.

Rain sinks deeper into the rhythm, the music humming in his chest, vibrating in time with his breath. He moves through it, not to it; hips rolling, arms sweeping above his head, sweat gleaming at the hollow of his throat.

Aurora spins away, laughter trailing like wind. Swiss shifts with her, leaving Rain briefly alone at the center of the floor.

He doesn’t notice.

Or maybe he does - and just doesn’t care.

He stretches, full-bodied and open, like a cat in sunlight. His head tips back, throat exposed, hair clinging to his jaw in damp strands. He rolls his shoulders, dragging his hands down his sides in time with the beat, fingers catching in the hem of his shirt - lifting, twisting, baring more skin.

And the light loves him for it.

It halos along his ribs, slips over the soft curve of his belly, glints on the sweat at his sternum and the ridges of his gill slits. Nothing about it is practiced; nothing performed.

He moves like a secret kept for too long - like he was made to feel.

From a couch near the edge of the room, Phantom watches.

They sit tucked in the corner, knees drawn close, fingers curled around an untouched drink. The music rolls through them - too loud to ignore, too low to hide from - and every bass pulse flutters in their chest. The den breathes heat and motion. Ghouls drift across the floor like smoke, laughter rising, bodies brushing. It’s beautiful - almost too much, if Phantom is honest.

But Rain -

Rain is something else entirely.

Phantom can’t look away. Their gaze tracks the twist of his hips, the shirt riding higher, the shimmer of sweat along his throat. Each time Rain moves, the room seems to bend toward him. Like he’s not dancing in the music, but summoning it.

Phantom swallows hard - chest tight, breath gone shallow.

They want, but don’t yet know how to reach for it.

A hand settles gently on their shoulder, and Phantom startles.

“Easy,” a warm, amused voice soothes from behind.

Dewdrop.

He rounds the couch and drops beside them, forearm draped casually along the back, gaze not yet following theirs. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”

Phantom shakes their head, wordless.

Dew hums. “So…who’s got you staring like that?” He scans the room theatrically. “Aurora? She’s a twirling menace type. Or - oh, don’t tell me - it’s Swiss, isn’t it? All that broad-shouldered broodiness?”

Phantom blinks, mouth parting to respond, but no sound comes.

Dew’s grin widens. “I’m teasing,” he murmurs. “I know exactly who you’re watching.” His gaze lands on Rain: still dancing, still radiant.

“You’ve got good taste,” he says, impressed.

Phantom doesn’t answer.

Their eyes stay locked on Rain: the roll of his hips, the sway of his spine, the soft arch of his neck. Each motion tightens and releases something deep in their chest.

It feels like hunger.

Dew shifts beside them without breaking the quiet. He watches, too, eyes sharp and thoughtful.

The couch dips slightly as he leans in, one steady hand settling on Phantom’s shoulder. “You want to touch him, don’t you?”

Phantom flinches. Caught. “I -”

“It's alright,” Dew says gently. “Wanting is natural.”

Rain spins, laughing now, arms lifting high, hair stuck to his cheek. He knows he’s being watched, and he moves like he wants to be consumed.

Dew glances sideways, something knowing in his gaze.

Phantom doesn’t realize how tight their grip has gotten until Dew gently eases the glass from their hand and sets it aside. “Easy,” he repeats, voice warm. “No one’s going to make you do anything. Just breathe.”

Phantom exhales shakily.

Together they watch, drawn into the orbit of Rain’s joy like moths to heat, too close to realize they’re already burning.

Dew watches Phantom a moment longer, then stands. He offers a hand, not insistent, just there.

“Come with me,” he says softly. “Let’s get a better view.”

Phantom hesitates. Their fingers twitch.

Dew waits, hand open - gaze steady.

After a breath, Phantom reaches out and takes it, grabbing their drink as they stand.

He leads them slowly across the edge of the room, weaving between lounging ghouls and nodding familiars, until the dance floor heat brushes their skin and the music pulses beneath their feet. Still outside the circle, but close enough now to feel it.

Rain spins ahead, shirt riding higher with each motion. He catches sight of them, Dew’s hand around Phantom’s, Phantom wide-eyed and glowing under the soft, flickering lights.

He smiles.

He doesn’t stop dancing, but his attention shifts subtly.

Dew draws Phantom closer, leaning in to be heard over the bass. “Still not drinking that?” he asks, nodding at the untouched glass in their hand.

Phantom glances down and shrugs. “Doesn’t really interest me, I guess.”

Dew’s grin turns slow and wicked.

“Oh, I’ve got something better,” he says, voice low and warm in their ear. “Ever taken a shot the right way?”

Phantom blinks. “What’s the right way?”

Dew chuckles, tipping his head toward Rain. “Off him,” he says. “I pour. You taste.”

Phantom flushes to the pointed tips of their ears. “Wait - you mean -”

“Mhmm.” Dew leans in, just a little closer. “Pretty little body. Smooth skin. Rain loves to be savored.”

Across the dance floor, Rain meets their gaze and tips his head, his smile curling slow at the corners.

Phantom swallows. Their hand tightens in Dew’s.

Dew raises an eyebrow. “What do you say, bug? Want your first drink to be something unforgettable?”

Phantom stares wide-eyed, heart hammering loud enough they’re sure someone else must hear it.

“I -” They blink. Try again. “I’ve never - no one’s ever asked me to…”

Dew tilts his head, grinning softer now. “That’s not a no.”

Phantom’s mouth opens, then closes. They swallow hard. “Would… would he even want that?”

“You haven’t noticed?” Dew murmurs, stepping aside. “He’s been dancing for you.”

Phantom’s turns, just in time to see Rain approaching.

He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t strut. Just glides, like the whole room parts for him.

Rain’s cheeks are flushed navy, luminescence pulsing rainbow-bright beneath his skin. His chest rises with each breath, eyes steady and warm. He stops just close enough to feel - the tremble, the want, the way Phantom stills like prey.

“Hi,” he says, smile soft.

Phantom’s breath hitches. “Hi.”

Rain’s gaze drops briefly to their hands, then back up. “I saw you watching.”

Phantom opens their mouth - nothing comes out.

Rain tilts his head, inviting without pressure. “Did you like what you saw?”

They nod a little too fast.

Dew hums behind them, pleased. “Shy,” he tells Rain. “But definitely interested.”

Rain chuckles. “That's sweet.” He steps in close, close enough that Phantom feels the humidity rolling off his skin. “Do you want to try something with us?”

Phantom’s breath stutters, but this time they manage it.

“…Yes.”

Dew smiles, clearly pleased. “Good.”

Dew keeps Phantom’s hand as Rain turns, guiding them through the den’s warmth and shadows. The couch waits in its quiet corner, dim and half-hidden, far enough from the heart of the party that the beat is felt more than heard.

Rain is unbuttoning his shirt as he walks, sweat-slick fabric parting with practiced ease. He doesn’t rush; he knows what he’s offering. Reaching the couch, he sinks onto it, lounging back like he was made to fit those cushions.

Dew would say that he was.

Rain stretches one arm across the backrest, the other trailing over his stomach. His ribs rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm, light clinging to every curve.

His gaze returns to Phantom.

“Come closer.”

Phantom obeys without thinking, heart pounding. Dew follows, snagging a bottle of honey-gold liquor from the side table.

“Watch closely,” Dew murmurs, voice low and coaxing.

He uncaps the bottle and pours, slowly, letting liquor pool in the hollow above Rain’s sternum.

Rain doesn’t flinch. He closes his eyes and tips his head back slightly, lips parting with a quiet breath. He looks like something sacred - offered not for worship, but for devouring.

Dew crouches, steady hand sliding along Rain’s ribs, fingers splayed like he’s cupping something fragile. Phantom can’t miss how perfectly that hand settles between Rain’s gills.

“Look first,” he says softly, eyes flicking to Phantom. “Then tongue.”

He leans in.

Honey and spice rise first, edged with a sharp note that slices through the room’s heat. The liquor glows faintly where it rests on Rain’s chest.

Dew lowers his mouth to Rain’s skin. His lips brush just above the liquid, a breath ghosting over the damp surface. Rain shivers beneath him.

Then, slow and deliberate, Dew licks.

His tongue traces the curve of Rain’s sternum, warm and firm, following the glistening trail with practiced ease. He drinks with a low hum. Rain releases a soft, broken sigh. It’s more than sound, it’s sensation, torn from deep inside. His gills open ever so slightly with his breath, and the muscles beneath his skin ripple faintly under the heat of Dew’s mouth.

Dew pulls back only once the last drop is gone. He licks his lips, slow and smug, then glances toward Phantom, his eyes dark with something rich and inviting.

“See?” he murmurs. “Sweet. Sharp. Better when tasted slow.”

He offers the bottle next - less invitation, more promise - gleaming between his fingers.

“Want to try?”

Phantom doesn’t move.

They just stare - at Rain, stretched out and glistening where Dew’s tongue had passed; at the bottle in Dew’s hand, golden and gleaming; at the drops still catching light above Rain’s heart.

Their mouth dries. Fingers twitch.

They want - Lucifer, do they want - but nerves flutter wild in their chest, a thousand questions crowding their throat.

Their gaze turns to Dew. Then to Rain.

Finally they speak, soft and shaking: “Can I…?” Phantom swallows. “He’s your mate. I don’t want to cross a line. I don’t want to... you know."

Dew’s heat softens into something gentler. Maybe even proud.

“You’re sweet,” he murmurs. “Careful. That’s good.”

Rain opens his eyes, dark with pleasure, steady with trust.

“You’re not taking,” he says. “I’m offering.”

He lifts his hand, palm open, no pressure, just welcome.

“I want you to. If you want to.”

The world holds still for a breath.

Phantom steps forward, just one trembling shuffle, and reaches for the bottle. They turn it over in both hands, trying to mimic Dew, but their fingers shake too much. They hover above Rain’s chest, uncertain.

“I…” They barely whisper. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

Dew steps in, close behind. He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t smile. Just leans in, chest pressed to Phantom’s back, one arm curling around their waist - solid and grounding. Hot.

“Let me help,” he breathes at their ear. His other hand covers theirs, fingers steady and sure around the bottle.

“Start here,” he murmurs, tilting their hands until the liquor pours - a slow, gleaming ribbon. It lands in the hollow of Rain’s chest.

His lips part, lashes fluttering.

“Good,” Dew whispers. “Just like that.”

Phantom swallows, body easing into Dew’s hold as he guides them lower.

“Now look,” he murmurs. “Really look at him.”

Phantom does. How could they not? Rain lies beneath them, skin flushed and pulsing blue, throat bared in trust. Liquor glistens like melted sunlight. His expression is nothing but invitation.

“You won’t hurt him,” Dew murmurs. “Just touch. Gently. Here.”

He sets the bottle aside and guides Phantom’s other hand forward until their fingertips brush just below Rain’s ribs.

“Start low. Feel his breath. Let your hands tell him you’re here.”

Phantom’s touch trembles, but it lands. Rain exhales, soft and pleased.

Their hand stays where Dew placed it, resting just beneath Rain’s ribs, the skin there flushed and warm. Phantom’s breath stutters again… then steadies as Dew leans in close.

“You’re ready,” Dew murmurs, voice low and sure.

His hand finds their hair, fingers threading gently through the strands. Not pulling, just grounding.

“Eyes first,” he says, lips brushing their ear. “Let him feel you looking. Then tongue.”

Phantom leans in.

Dew’s fingers tighten slightly, just enough to be felt. The air shifts, the edge of a growl tucked low in his throat.

“Don’t touch his gills.”

The words are quiet, but they land with weight.

Phantom nods immediately, voice just a breath. “Of course.”

Rain stirs. One hand lifts, cool and sure, settling lightly on Dew’s elbow. Not pushing, just reminding. His fingers curl once, a silent pulse of reassurance.

He’s still Dew’s.

But tonight, he’s offering himself, and he wants to be touched.

Phantom lowers slowly, steadied by Dew’s hand in their hair and his arm cinched at their waist. The world narrows to Rain’s skin; salt-warm, sweat-slick, luminescence glowing in the low light.

And then - they lick.

The first touch is clumsy: a hesitant touch of tongue, barely a taste.

But then Rain sighs, a long, low, willing sound, and Phantom’s nerves start to settle.

They lick again, slower this time, chasing warmth and the faint bite of liquor down the shallow curve of his chest. Soft lips brush the center of his sternum. Rain arches, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Dew’s hand tightens gently. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “That’s exactly it.”

Phantom pulls back just enough to breathe. Rain opens his eyes, and what they see there - desire, trust, pleasure, welcome - makes their knees go weak.

They don’t speak. They just look up at Dew, lips wet, lashes fluttering.

Dew smiles, slow and full of fire. “Told you,” he says. “Sweet, isn’t he?”

Phantom nods and leans back in.

Their breath ghosts over Rain’s skin, cooler than Dew’s. The contrast sends a shiver rippling down Rain’s chest to his spine.

Dew watches with quiet pride, hand steady in their hair, his body a furnace at their back. The contrast is stark, Dew’s heat blooming along Phantom’s back while Rain’s skin welcomes their cool touch like water holding starlight.

Rain’s fingers twitch against the cushions. He tips his head back, mouth parted, throat bared, breath a shade quicker.

Dew hums low, pleased, heat wrapping tighter around Phantom. “Feel that?” he murmurs. “He likes how you're tasting him.”

Phantom pulls back, face flushed despite their natural chill. Their fingertips tremble on Rain’s chest, feeling the fast, steady beat beneath.

Dew’s mouth is at their ear again. “Go on,” he urges, guiding them forward. “Give him more. He isn’t done being kissed.”

They lift their eyes to Rain’s.

“…Where?” they whisper. “Where do you want me?”

The question is quiet enough to drown in music, yet Rain hears. He blinks, dazed but focused, pupils wide. A hand lifts, slow and gentle, to cup Phantom’s cheek, thumb brushing their jaw.

“Anywhere,” he breathes. “But…”

His hand drifts down, tracing a slow line past his collarbone and sternum.

“Here.” His fingertip settles just above his waistband. “Taste me here.”

Dew exhales behind them, a single breath of spark and satisfaction. “Hear that, bug?” he murmurs, pressing closer. “He’s asking.”

His fingers tighten in their hair.

“Give it to him.”

Phantom swallows hard.

Their free hand trails after Rain’s, lingering where he pointed. Then they lean in, mouth lowering to the place he offered.

Rain’s muscles twitch under the touch, his body shifting in a slow, unguarded exhale. His head rolls against the cushion, curls tumbling loose, mouth parting on a sigh that flirts with a whimper. He doesn’t direct. Doesn’t move. He just gives; his trust, his breath, his body.

Phantom kisses just beneath his navel. Lips cool, barely a breath. Then they part, tongue slipping out to trace a trembling line above Rain’s waistband. He moans, quiet and helpless, legs shifting slightly beneath them.

“Just like that,” Dew purrs, voice thick with praise. “You’re doing so good, bug.”

He stays pressed to Phantom’s back, steady as a spine, hand firm in their hair. Every time they falter, he’s there; anchoring, whispering, coaxing.

“Feel how he melts for you?” Dew says. “That’s yours. He wants it.”

Rain’s breath catches as Phantom kisses lower, slower, tongue gliding over a fresh stretch of skin. Their cool mouth draws a deeper shiver, and Rain’s hips lift, chasing it. Phantom gasps, lips still against his skin, startled by Rain’s response, by the pleasure they’d earned.

“Give him more,” Dew whispers. “He can take it.”

Rain’s hand finds their wrist and holds it gently against his side. Not pushing, not pulling, just keeping them close.

“I like the way you touch me,” he says, voice loose with pleasure. “Don’t stop.”

Phantom nods, swallowing again. They kiss and lick across Rain’s belly, tasting yuzu, sweet grass, sea salt… and cardamom, unmistakably Dew.

Rain shudders. His fingers tighten gently around them, drawing Phantom’s focus up from where their mouth still lingers.

“Can I have a drink too?” he asks, voice thick with warmth, pleasure, and something hungry curled sweet at the edges.

Phantom blinks.

They lift their head slowly, lips wet, pupils blown wide. “A drink…?”

Rain’s smile deepens, just a little smug. “Mm-hm.”

Phantom’s brows pinch, brain fogged. “I - I don’t - have anything on me -”

Dew chuckles low behind them.

He leans in, lips brushing their ear. “He wants you, bug,” he murmurs. “Wants a shot off your pretty skin.”

Phantom’s breath catches - “Oh.”

Their cheeks burn with sudden heat, that delicious mixture of embarrassment and desire sparking all over again beneath their skin. They glance at Rain, who’s watching them with that same open, patient want.

“Is… is that okay?” Phantom whispers.

Rain hums, sitting up, fingers brushing over Phantom’s wrist. “It is,” he says gently. “But only if you’re okay with it.”

Dew’s hand slides down their back, steadying. “We won’t do anything you don’t want. But if you do want…” He kisses the hinge of their jaw, tongue flashing. “…he'd love to taste how sweet you are.”

Phantom's lashes flutter. “Yeah,” they whisper, and in a blink they're clambering onto the couch, sitting up on their knees. With fumbling fingers they tug the collar of their shirt aside, baring the smooth line of their neck and shoulder. Their cool skin glows faintly in the amber light.

Rain’s focuses on the exposed strip of dusky-lilac skin. He licks his lips slow and thoughtful, as if already tasting.

But it’s Dew who moves first.

He slips behind them again, hands gliding over their waist and chest, up to cradle their jaw. One hand tips their chin back, baring the long line of their throat; the other steadies their hips, his heat soaking into their cool body.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs at their ear. “But I can’t let Rain have all the fun now can I?”

Phantom lets out a breathy laugh, hips shifting.

Rain rises with fluid grace, retrieving the bottle. He steps close, close enough for Phantom to feel his heat, cooler than Dew’s yet warmer than the air.

“Hold still,” Rain says, tilting the bottle.

The liquor trickles down the slope of Phantom’s throat, a golden ribbon that slips over their collarbone and down the curve of their neck. The temperature of it stings at first, startling against their cooler skin, but then it’s gone, replaced by Rain’s mouth. He leans in fast, tongue tracing the spill, slow and deliberate. Every lap is reverent, sensual, a careful savoring of salt and sweetness and Phantom’s own clean taste beneath it.

Phantom shudders; knees dip, but Dew’s arms lock around them, holding them steady.

“Good?” Dew whispers, lips brushing their temple.

Phantom can only nod, eyes shut, head tipping to bare more skin.

Rain hums against their throat. “You taste better than I imagined.” He pulls back slowly, tongue flicking the last drop at their collarbone. Cool breath follows the damp trail, and Phantom sways, dazed.

Dew steadies them.

“Mmm,” Rain murmurs, licking his lips, eyes half-lidded. “I could drink off you forever.”

Phantom releases a soft, wordless sound - too overwhelmed for speech.

Behind them, Dew growls - hungry.

“My turn,” he says, voice rough with want.

Rain leans back, letting Dew take the lead, eyes lingering on the scene.

Dew waits a beat, hands still and firm at their hip and jaw. His grip shifts, firmer, commanding, and he tilts their head back further to bare more of their throat.

“Can I mark you?” he whispers.

Phantom’s eyes fly open, startled, but they nod. “Y - yes.”

That’s all he needs. He bends and licks a slow stripe up their neck, tongue hotter than Rain, hotter than the liquor, hotter than anything Phantom has ever felt.

Then he bites. Not cruel, not deep, just enough: a sharp press at the crook of their neck that sends a jolt through their whole body. Their knees buckle but Dew’s arm, iron-strong, keeps them upright against his heat.

Phantom gasps. Rain squeezes their hand.

Dew pulls back only to lave the mark with his tongue. “There,” he breathes. “Something to remember me by.”

Rain, still watching, smiles, slow and wicked. “So pretty when you shiver.”

Phantom is breathless - caught between them, skin glowing from touch. Their shirt clings to one shoulder, the other is bare and proudly marked. Violet flush blooms in their cheeks as their pulse pounds beneath Dew’s tongue.

Rain rises and crowds in, fingers brushing Dew’s jaw. Dew looks up, the bite mark on Phantom still fresh on his lips.

Rain leans forward and kisses him.

It’s not soft. It’s deep, hungry, open-mouthed - fire passing between them. Heat floods through Dew, pressed hard to Phantom. He groans into the kiss, hand tightening on Phantom’s waist.

Rain pulls back, eyes darker. “Still thirsty?” he asks, voice low.

Dew grins, tongue flicking over his lower lip. “Always.”

Rain turns to Phantom. “Hold still for me, sweetheart.”

Phantom exhales, thankful for Dew’s physical support. “Okay.”

Rain lifts the bottle, tipping it gently above Phantom’s shoulder. He artfully avoids the blooming mark, letting the liquor stream cool down the side of their neck, across their collarbone, and into the dip between their chest and half-draped shirt.

Phantom gasps, the chill of it shocking.

Then Dew’s mouth is on them again - hot, eager.

He traces Rain’s path exactly, tongue following the golden trail like it laid for him. He licks every drop from their damp skin, chasing fresh shivers down Phantom’s spine. His teeth graze their collarbone - just enough to pull another whimper from their heaving chest.

Rain watches, hand resting on Dew’s shoulder. “So good,” he murmurs. “Look at you - our pretty little altar.”

Phantom makes a high, helpless sound - overwhelmed and undone.

Dew smiles against their skin, then pulls back to see their face. Lips parted, breath shallow, eyes wide and glassy with heat; they look wrecked already, still nearly fully dressed.

“C’mere,” Dew murmurs, sliding his hand to their waist and guiding them gently to straddle his lap. Phantom goes easily, body moving faster than thought.

Dew’s solid thighs radiate heat. His hands bracket their back and the nape of their neck, holding them steady, framed in fire. Phantom shudders, forehead resting against Dew’s.

“I can’t -” they breathe. “I don’t think I can take much more.”

“You can,” Dew answers, voice molten. “You’re doing so well. We’ve got you.”

Rain reaches behind them, brushes hair from the back of Phantom’s neck. His touch is cool, so much cooler than Dew’s furnace. They gasp, arching into it.

Rain’s hands glide down their sides, over the soft fabric still clinging to their hips. “Let us taste you together,” he murmurs. “Be good for us.”

Dew’s lips roam Phantom’s throat, biting harder now, emboldened by the way they whimper and cling. Rain mirrors the motion with soft, cooling kisses just below their ear, soothing where Dew devours. They bracket Phantom with their mouths, a perfect push and pull, working in tandem to unravel them.

Phantom trembles.

Their hands press to Dew’s shoulders for balance, but they’re slipping, breath by breath, into the space carved just for them.

Dew growls again. “Feel that? They’re shaking for us.”

“I do,” Rain breathes, voice tender with awe. “So good for us.”

Phantom’s hips twitch in Dew’s lap, caught between pleasure and the ache of needing more. Every breath is shallow and stolen. Their fingers twist into Dew’s shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring them to the world.

Rain’s hands glide slow over their sides, reverent as they chart every inch - fabric and skin. Dew’s mouth trails lower: their collarbone, the hollow of their throat, following the path of Rain’s pour with teeth and tongue.

Dew grins against them, his teeth grazing skin. “Adorable,” he murmurs. “Didn’t know bugs could make such sweet little sounds.”

“Could steal them away,” Rain adds, kissing the nape of their neck. “Drag them into the dark and ruin them.” Phantom twitches.

He chuckles, his breath cool. “You like being talked about?”

Phantom nods, barely lifting their head. “Mmhm…” Phantom’s hips jerk in Dew’s lap, a desperate grind that leaves them gasping.

Rain smiles against their skin. “Oh, they do like that.”

Dew slides two fingers up their side. “Look at them...practically glowing.”

Phantom buries their face in Dew’s shoulder, keening, caught between presence and pure pleasure.

Then they shift - not away, but closer. Phantom lifts their head, flushed and glassy-eyed, pressing tighter to Dew’s shoulders and whispering, aching:

“Dew… let me - let me taste you.” It spills from them in a rush, unpolished and urgent, like it’s been trapped behind their teeth too long.

He grins, slow and sharp-edged. “Here?” he teases, voice warm and wicked. “In front of all these people?”

Heat floods Phantom’s cheeks, but they don’t pull back. They turn to Rain, eyes wide and shining. “Please,” they whisper. “Rain…may I have a drink?”

Rain melts.

He tips their chin up with two fingers, eyes glowing with pride and tenderness. “So sweet,” he hums. “Asking for what you want. That’s my good little buggy.”

Phantom leans into the praise like it’s touch, their whole body blooming with warmth beneath it.

Rain’s smile turns mischievous as he shifts toward Dew. Unhurried, his fingers slip behind Phantom and undo the remaining buttons of Dew’s shirt.

One.

Two.

Three.

The fabric parts slowly, revealing the golden stretch of Dew’s chest, already kissed by heat and sweat, flushed and waiting. Dew watches with his mouth curved lazily, hands still holding Phantom close.

“Undressing me in public, boys?” he teases, voice thick with amusement. “Should I be blushing?”

Rain meets his eyes with a smirk. Then he lifts the bottle, tips it with care. The liquor pours in a slow cascade down Dew’s chest. It flows down his sternum, catching in each ridge of muscle, sliding toward his stomach. The scent of it rises, honey-sweet, and Phantom watches, wide-eyed and hungry.

Rain threads a hand into Phantom's hair. “Go on,” he whispers, fingers curling gently. “Taste him. Just like you tasted me.”

Phantom leans in. Their tongue flicks out, cool and cautious, lapping at the topmost line of liquor. Dew hums low, pleased, his chest rising under their touch.

Rain’s hand stays firm, guiding their mouth lower. “Slower,” he murmurs, a thread of command. “Let him feel every part of you.”

Phantom obeys. They press their tongue flat, licking down the glimmering trail Rain left behind. The contrast is dizzying - Dew’s heat, the sting of the liquor, Rain’s cool fingers in their hair - and a quiet moan slips from their mouth against Dew’s skin.

“Sweet, right?” Rain breathes, lips brushing the shell of their ear. “He always is.”

Dew chuckles, his hands stroking their thighs. “Careful,” he says. “Keep doing that and I might ask for seconds.”

Phantom licks lower, slower, tongue chasing the last of the liquor to the base of Dew’s sternum. Their movements are unsure at first, but Rain’s hand keeps them steady, like he already knows where they’re meant to go.

Dew’s breath catches. “Fuck,” he mutters, soft and helpless. One hand slips from Phantom’s thigh to their waist, fingers curling there.

“You’re killing me, Phantom,” he rasps. “That mouth…”

Phantom moans against his skin, trembling with need. Behind them, Rain smiles, voice dark with affection.

“You like how he tastes, don’t you?”

Phantom nods, breath stuttering. “Yes,” they whisper. “So warm…”

Rain’s hand drifts from their neck down their spine, then slips beneath the hem of their shirt. Cool fingers glide over their lower back and curl across their ribs; reverent, slow.

“You've been so good,” he says gently.

Phantom shivers, pressing into his touch.

Dew’s hand slips beneath the fabric from the front, reaching around to meet Rain’s fingers, both of them stroking Phantom’s trembling torso together, one hot, one cool. Phantom gasps and arches, caught between them.

Dew kisses their temple, rumbling low, “What do you want, Phantom?”

Rain kisses the back of their neck. “Whatever you want, it's yours.”

Hands move in sync, stroking ribs and stomach, exploring soft skin under a shirt that suddenly feels far too heavy. Phantom whimpers, hips shifting, entirely undone.

“More?” Dew asks, lips at their cheek. “Or do we just keep tasting you until you fall apart in our hands?”

Phantom trembles, flushed, shirt half-off, breath ragged, pressed between Rain’s cool and Dew’s furnace heat. But they still manage to nod, yes - more.

Before anyone can move, a voice cuts through the music.

“Rainy! It’s our favorite song!” Cirrus calls from across the den, waving him over with a playful grin. Rain sighs affectionately.

He leans in, kissing Phantom’s shoulder. “One dance,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Phantom whimpers, clinging to his wrist like they might melt without him.

Rain cups their cheek, thumb brushing under one eye. “Stay with Dew,” he whispers. “Be good.”

Then he’s gone, swallowed by the pulsing crowd, hips rolling to the beat, shirt still hanging open. Phantom watches, dazed and aching, still straddling Dew’s lap - shirt loose with liquor cooling on their tongue.

Dew chuckles behind them.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, tracing slow circles along their back. “All wound up with nowhere to go.”

He shifts just enough to settle Phantom more firmly in his lap, one hand sliding to their thigh, fingers pressing, reminding them who holds them now.

“Look at him,” Dew whispers at their ear. “Pretty little tide, all swaying hips and soft smiles. Bet you’d crawl into his arms the second he looks your way.”

Phantom nods weakly, head lolling against Dew’s shoulder even as their gaze follows Rain.

Dew hums. “You could have him. Both of us. I can keep you in my lap while he licks you open - his tongue’s real soft. Maybe I’ll even help, part your folds so he can suck you off.” He kisses their crown as they whimper. “Or maybe I’ll be greedy and stuff you so full you forget your name.”

Phantom shivers.

He grins, grip tightening. “Or maybe you want another taste of me. When he comes back, we’ll lay you out like something sacred - let him drink from you while I feed you mine. Would you like that? Wanna be our little altar?”

“Please,” Phantom gasps.

“Then be good. Sit pretty. Let everyone see how lucky we are.”

Dew eases back into the couch, arms snug around Phantom’s waist. The den pulses around them - warm bodies in motion, laughter spilling, and Rain dancing a few feet away. Every moment stretches tight with promise.

Dew rolls his hips in lazy circles - slow enough to torture, deep enough to tease - his cock a steady pressure between Phantom’s thighs. Just enough to show what's waiting. Phantom gasps, fingers digging into his arm.

“Mmm,” Dew purrs. “There’s that sound I like.”

His practiced hands keep one grip at their waist, the other tracing idle circles along their thigh; so close to too much, but still not nearly enough.

“Look at him,” Dew murmurs, nodding toward the floor.

Rain moves in bliss: hips swaying to the heavy beat, shirt barely clinging on, curls damp against his neck. He looks like the music lives in him.

“You see that?” Dew breathes. “That’s not sweetness, bug. That’s hunger. And when he comes back, he’s gonna take you apart, piece by piece - slow, like he owns you. And you’ll beg for more, won’t you?”

Tears prick at the edges of their eyes, not from pain but from the overwhelming flood of sensation.

“I want it,” they whisper. “Please...don’t stop."

Phantom barely recognizes the creature they’ve become: flushed violet, hips grinding on Dew chasing his warmth, lips shiny with liquor and need. A shy little void who once hid in corners now writhes in full view, aching for a ghoul who dances like sin and another who whispers like fire.

The shock of that awareness only fuels the hunger clawing up their spine - because every shred of dignity they thought they’d guard has already been offered, and they want to give the rest, want Rain and Dew to take it, to carve delight into every place restraint used to live.

Dew rocks a bit harder and Phantom whimpers, giving in to their desperation.

“Bet you wanna bounce on it right now, don’t you?” Dew teases, voice thick with wicked affection. Phantom grinds down, chasing the friction he keeps teasing away.

“Yeah? You’d let me fuck you right here?” Dew’s voice drips with heat.

Phantom nods, teeth clenched, gripping his sides like he might vanish.

“What do you think Rain would do, huh?” Dew breathes, teeth grazing their jaw. “Watch from the corner and fist his cock real slow?”

Phantom moans, hips grinding helplessly.

Dew growls low, voice thicker. “Not a chance. He’d drop to his knees. Lick us both clean. Taste your slick right off the base of my cock.”

Phantom gasps, sharp and startled. Something clicks. Not shame, but want - burning and brutal and so much deeper than they were ready for.

The image Dew paints lodges hot behind their eyes: Rain’s mouth open, cheeks flushed, eyes black with hunger as he licks them both clean. Phantom feels it - in their stomach, in their thighs, in the way their breath catches like a trap just sprung.

They don’t even try to stop the next moan. It curls low in their throat, wrecked. Their hips twitch again, harder now, chasing friction like they need it, like they’ll die without more.

Dew chuckles darkly. “Oh, you liked that, too.”

Phantom nods without meaning to, a quick little motion. They’re past pretending now. The hunger’s real. They’d let Rain do it.

Would beg for it.

Would beg for both of them.

Another broken noise spills from Phantom. Dew kisses just beneath their ear, thrusts up in perfect rhythm.

“When he sees you like this - needy, dripping, riding my lap in the middle of the party - he’s gonna lose his fucking mind.”

He doesn’t relent. Moves in lazy circles, slow torture, a steady reminder. Phantom clings to him like they're drowning, fighting not to finish on the spot.

“That’s it,” Dew croons. “Barely holding it together.”

His palm drags up their chest, fingers splaying wide. His thumb strokes their racing pulse.

“All these people around,” he whispers, “and no one gets to touch you but me.”

Phantom whines, soft and high in their throat, but they can’t look away. Rain’s still out there, shirt now gone, dancing with Cirrus, sweat shimmering across his ribs like water over stone. Dew’s lips find the hinge of Phantom’s jaw: one kiss, two, then teeth dragging toward the hollow of their throat.

“You want him to see you like this, don’t you? Want him to come back and find you dripping, almost ruined.”

A tiny, jerky nod.

“Say it,” Dew rasps.

“I… want him to see.” The words break on Phantom’s tongue.

Dew’s breath catches. “Fuck. You're perfect.”

One hand cradles the back of their head, the other slides under the hem of their shirt, fingers resting at their waistband, a promise, or maybe a threat.

“You’ve been so good for us,” he murmurs. “Gonna take such good care of you. But not yet.”

His gaze tracks Rain, hunger flashing hard behind his lashes. “Not until he sees exactly what’s waiting.”

Music throbs; Dew’s hips roll slow; Phantom’s breath flutters. Dew noses along their cheek, voice a spine-scraping whisper.

“Bet you don’t even know who you’ll beg for first.” A sharp smile follows. “Don’t worry, though. You don't have to choose.”

Phantom squirms, trapped between too much and not enough. Dew’s fingers drum lightly on their waistband, patient. Phantom whines, eyes half-lidded, too dazed to notice the shift in the crowd.

But Dew notices, and his grin widens.

“Pretty thing,” he croons, poison-sweet, “still sitting so well in my lap. Soft and waiting to be torn apart.”

Another whimper; Phantom doesn’t yet understand why Dew’s tone has darkened.

“You’ll look gorgeous in our nest,” Dew whispers, fingers slipping a breath lower, earning a gasp. “Rain’s going to love how you beg. Think you can wait? He’d hate to miss you coming apart.”

Phantom moans, hips twitching, so close. Dew grins, all teeth, and looks to Rain.

The beat swells, thick with heat and hunger, the crowd parting on instinct. Rain finishes his dance with Cirrus, spins her into Aether's waiting arms. When he turns his head, he sees them.

Phantom, straddling Dew’s lap, hips rolling to the slow grind Dew sets. Cheek buried in Dew’s neck, mouth open, eyes shut, already lost.

Rain’s gaze goes black.

He moves, strides through the crowd. Bodies peel away on instinct, the room adjusting around him like he's something inevitable.

No hurry. He owns the distance.

Phantom, drowning in heat and Dew’s filthy whispers, doesn’t sense him coming. .

Dew does. He meets Rain’s eyes, flashes a fanged smirk, but never breaks rhythm. He leans to Phantom’s ear.

“Keep moving for me, sweetheart. Give him a show.”

Phantom whimpers, trembling - caught between edge and oblivion.

Then - cool fingers slide up their arm.

They jolt; eyes fly open.

Rain stands before them; bare-chested, curls dark and wet, fangs half-bared in something that isn’t quite a smile. Predatory stillness radiates off him, heavier than the bass rolling through the den.

Phantom’s breath stops.

Rain’s eyes burn molten; his chest still heaves, and a devilish smile hooks his lips - hungry, and aimed solely at them.

“Thought I’d leave you like this, bug?” he asks, voice low, syrup-dark.

Phantom gasps, caught between shy heat and raw want.

Rain brushes a kiss along their cheek, then ghosts his mouth to their ear. “You look like sin in his lap,” he murmurs. “Was that the plan? Make me watch you writhe for him?”

Dew nips Phantom’s neck, chuckling. “Told them you’d love it.”

Rain hums, gaze raking over flushed skin, trembling thighs, parted lips. He doesn’t touch - yet. Only the backs of his fingers drift along Phantom’s jaw; his thumb strokes the curve of their cheek. Phantom melts into it, breath hitching.

“So flushed,” Rain purrs, amused. “Still thirsty?”

Before they answer, his teeth find the shell of their ear and he nips, sharp. Phantom jolts, pressing harder into Dew.

Dew growls approval, hand locking at their waist. “Rain…”

Rain answers by pressing forward, body molding to Phantom’s, pinning them between his chill and Dew’s furnace. Then he tilts his head and claims Dew’s mouth; slow, deep, all tongue and possession. Heat blooms through Phantom, nowhere to flee.

Rain breaks the kiss with a satisfied curve of lips -

– but the song lunches, heavy rhythm giving way to something aggressive and electric. Ifrit’s doing, no doubt. There’s a thud of heavy bass, a chaotic guitar riff, and someone whoops too loudly on the other side of the room.

Rain winces like the sound offends his blood.

“Ugh. Ifrit’s taste is abysmal.”

Phantom releases a shaky laugh.

Dew snorts into their neck. “Love when he gets pissy about music.”

Rain arches a brow and kisses Phantom’s temple. “Let’s move someplace quieter.” Then softer, into their ear:

“Our nest has plenty of space.”

Chapter Text

“Our nest has plenty of space.”

Phantom doesn’t answer - at least not with words.

They can’t. Not with Rain’s breath still cool and curling behind their ear. Not with Dew’s fingers drawing idle, possessive circles along their thighs. Not with the ache between their legs pulsing where bodies meet but never quite press deep enough.

Rain watches their silence with a knowing smile.

The den glows in amber and violet, lights strobing slow across flushed skin. Laughter flickers somewhere distant, a drink shatters against a toast, bass beats thrum steady - but it all feels muffled, submerged beneath the heat pooling in their tangle of limbs and breath.

Here, in the center of it all, Phantom rocks faintly in Dew’s lap, still caught in the rhythm of earlier want. Limbs heavy. Lips parted. Every inch of them humming with unmet promise.

Rain traces a fingertip down the line of their throat.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” he says, reverent. “Too much, and still begging for more.”

Phantom moans softly.

Dew kisses their shoulder, voice low. “Think our pretty little thing’s ready to be taken apart?”

Rain grins, and just for a second, something feral flashes behind his gentle face. “Not yet.”

He slides his hand into Phantom’s hair, tips their chin up. The kiss is deep, slow, and entirely unbearable. Phantom melts into it with a soft sound, but just as they lean closer, craving more -

Rain pulls back.

“Now,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming. “Now they’re ready.”

Phantom doesn’t move right away. They’re panting, thighs trembling where they straddle Dew. Their hands fist in Rain’s shirt like they’re afraid he’ll vanish, caught in the echo of that kiss; its weight, its absence.

Rain brushes a thumb across their cheek, gentle now. “Still with me?”

They nod, but the motion’s sluggish, like their limbs haven’t caught up. Dew huffs a low laugh against their shoulder, hand tightening at their waist until they gasp, breath hitching like a thread pulled taut.

“All wrung out from just a kiss?” Dew murmurs, lips at Phantom’s ear. “Your mouth should come with a warning label, Rainy.”

Rain smirks, unbothered. “You’re one to talk. I'm just collecting what's mine.”

Phantom makes a tiny, overwhelmed sound at that, and Rain leans in to kiss the corner of their mouth again; light this time, coaxing.

“Let’s get you up, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You’ll walk, or should I carry you?”

They don’t answer. Just sag a little further into Rain’s chest, face tucked against his neck, breath soft and uneven.

Dew grins, voice thick and fond. “That’s a carry, then.”

Rain chuckles low in his throat, hand already sliding down to hook beneath Phantom’s thighs. “Of course it is.”

But when he tries to lift, Dew doesn’t let go.

Rain raises his brow.

Dew just looks up at him, smug. “Mine too, remember?”

For a beat, it’s a standoff - playful, possessive, their sweet little bug limp between them, dazed and adored.

Then Rain leans down, curls brushing Phantom’s face. “Let them up, Dew.”

Dew sighs like he's suffering. “You always take the good ones.”

But he shifts his grip, helping instead of hoarding. His hands slide low, palms warm against Phantom’s thighs, lifting with care as Rain slips his arms into place - one beneath their knees, the other across their back.

And when they rise together, Phantom curls into Rain like they already belong to both of them. Dew walks beside them, fingers trailing down the outside of Phantom’s thigh.

“Still trembling,” Dew murmurs, brushing his hand lower. “You’re gonna let us ruin you so well, aren’t you?”

Rain presses a kiss into their hair. “We’ll be gentle.”

A beat.

Dew grins. “Mostly.”

-

The hallway is dim and quiet, a hush compared to the pulse and chaos of the den. The heavy beat of music fades behind them, replaced by the soft shuffle of Rain’s footsteps, the quiet creak of the floor beneath his weight.

Phantom is cradled in his arms, tucked close to his chest, their breath brushing soft against his collarbone. Their body is pliant, limp with desire and warmth, but their fingers still clutch at the edge of Rain’s shoulder like they can’t bear to let go.

Dew trails behind, hands in his pockets like he’s not burning from the inside out. His steps are light, eyes fixed on the way Rain carries them, on the bare skin peeking from beneath Phantom’s shirt. He’s quiet, for once, but it’s the kind of quiet that simmers with intent.

Rain slows as they reach the midpoint of the hall, pausing beneath the low amber glow of a lantern. Light spills soft across Phantom’s skin, catching on their lashes, the curve of their cheek, the dazed gleam in their eyes when they blink up at him.

“You alright?” Rain asks, voice low, gentle. He shifts his grip just slightly, adjusting them against his chest. “Need a second?”

Phantom nods faintly, pressing their forehead to his neck. “Just... warm,” they whisper. “Everything’s warm.”

Rain smiles, tilting his head to nuzzle their temple. “Good. Do you like it?”

A soft hum, barely a breath - yes.

Dew steps up beside them, crowding in close. One hand reaches to brush Phantom’s knee, slow and soothing. “Want you to feel like honey left out in the sun,” he murmurs. “Melting. Messy. Made to be licked clean.”

Phantom shudders at his touch. Dew’s fingers linger just a moment longer.

Rain watches them both, something fierce and quiet in his gaze.

“You know what we’re about to do,” he says, soft but firm. “You can still say no. You can still ask for something else.”

Phantom lifts their head, eyes flicking from one to the other - Rain, then Dew

“I want it,” they whisper. “I want you. Both of you.”

Dew’s hand slides higher on their thigh. “You’re gonna get us,” he says. “Just say the word.”

Rain nods, satisfied, and begins walking again, confident and unhurried.

Behind them, Dew follows, heat rolling off him in waves. Rain shoots him a lazy grin over his shoulder, and Dew answers with a smirk that promises everything still to come.

The door to Rain and Dew’s room creaks open on a hush of warm air and dim light.

Lanterns glow low, catching on rich fabrics layered like sediment - thick blankets, plush throws, sheets in deep jewel tones, rumpled from earlier use and never quite smoothed again. The air is full of warmth, with the faint scent of rain-damp linen, smoke, and something more intimate…skin and salt and the slow, sweet rot of delayed satisfaction.

There are petals scattered from an indulgent evening not fully cleaned. A silver tray with half-melted candles rests on the bedside table, wax pooled like lazy moonlight. A small pile of books leans beside it, spines softened and thumb-worn, like even the room knows how to wait.

The space feels lived in - loved in. Phantom feels it the moment Rain steps inside. The weight of the room. The heat of it. Every surface seems to hum with memory.

Dew closes the door behind them with a soft click, sealing them in a quiet temple made of touch.

Rain lowers them carefully to the ground, letting Phantom adjust to the feeling of the space. It’s quieter here. Not silent - the music of the den is still a faint throb in the floorboards - but everything feels softer.

He then climbs into the nest, arranging pillows and blankets into some arbitrary pattern that he can't seem to settle on.

“You gonna start scenting, too?” Dew chuffs, amused, as he crosses the room to wrap his arms around Phantom’s waist, chin hooked over their shoulder.

Rain flips him off with one hand, already stretching out across the bed. “Only if they’re lucky.”

Phantom laughs, breathless and frayed. Rain’s gaze softens as he pats the blankets in front of him, coaxing.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says. “Let me show you how much I missed you.”

Phantom obeys without thinking, drawn in like it’s home. Like gravity itself has shifted. Rain pulls them down with greedy hands, wrapping arms and legs around them the moment they touch the bed, pressing every inch of himself close.

“You smell like Dew,” Rain whispers against Phantom’s throat. “It’s been driving me fucking crazy.”

From behind, Dew climbs in next - all golden limbs and lazy menace. He nestles in at Phantom’s back, one hand stroking slowly across their stomach, steady and sure.

“Oh, I know,” he says, smug as sin, kissing the nape of Phantom’s neck but staring straight at Rain. “You couldn’t stop staring.”

His fingers dip lower, taunting. “The way you looked at them? Like you’d combust if you didn’t get a taste.”

Rain huffs a laugh, sharp with need.

“Jealous?” he rumbles, lifting his chin. “You got the first taste. Let me have a little fun before you go all greedy again.”

Dew grins, delighted. “Greedy? You’re the one drooling.”

Rain shifts, pressing closer to Phantom.

“You gonna let me have a taste, sweetheart?” he murmurs, brushing his lips along their jaw. “Let me show you what you do to me?”

Phantom nods and Rain doesn’t waste a moment. He leans in and kisses them - slow at first, just the brush of lips, but it builds. Quickly. Hungrily.

He opens his mouth against theirs, licks in with practiced ease, a moan curling low in his throat as Phantom gasps and melts. Dew’s hands slide over their sides, grounding, stroking over every inch of exposed skin like he’s marking it with reverence.

Rain kisses like he’s trying to breathe them in, and when he finally pulls back, his breath is ragged, eyes searching.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he murmurs. “Tell me.”

Phantom shudders beneath him, lips still parted, eyes wide and glassy. That earlier boldness - the way they asked to draw liquor off his skin, the way they rode Dew’s lap - is softened now, fogged by overwhelming affection, by Rain’s calm and Dew’s constant, steady pressure at their back.

They try to speak.

But nothing comes out.

Rain tilts his head, concern flickering gently. “Hey,” he whispers, brushing his knuckles down their cheek. “You okay?”

Phantom nods quickly. Too quickly. And then - they shift.

Their hips roll upward, slow and desperate, trying to wedge one of Rain’s thighs between their legs.

Rain gasps, surprised - and then grins, wicked and sweet all at once.

“Oh,” he breathes. “That’s what you want. Finish what Dew started, yeah?”

Phantom nods again, cheeks flushed, thighs quaking.

Rain moves easily, slipping one leg between theirs, giving them the pressure they crave - solid muscle against soft, aching heat. Phantom groans and presses down hard, hips grinding in tiny, desperate circles.

Rain watches, utterly entranced.

Dew shifts closer behind them, voice low against their neck. “Look at you,” he murmurs, half to Rain, half to Phantom. He presses a kiss behind Phantom’s ear before looking down at Rain.

“They did the same thing to me, sweet little grind, all helpless and messy. Drove me fuckin’ wild.”

Rain snorts, not looking up. “Like you didn’t start it.” He drags his tongue slowly over Phantom’s wrist, savoring the way they shiver. “But I’m gonna finish it.”

Dew huffs a laugh. “Not if they finish you first.”

Phantom grinds down with desperate little motions, riding the muscle of Rain’s thigh like it’s the only thing tethering them to the earth. Every shift draws a shiver through them, heat blooming under their skin, low and tight and nearly unbearable.

Rain’s hands hold their hips, steady and sure, guiding their rhythm with quiet adoration.

“Just like that,” he murmurs. “Take what you need.”

Behind them Dew chuckles warm, and begins to peel Phantom’s shirt the rest of the way off. He takes his time, lifting the fabric slowly, letting his fingers brush every inch of skin he reveals.

“Thought about this earlier,” he says against their shoulder, his voice a purr. “Right there on that couch, your shirt all clinging and damp while you ground in my lap. Told you I’d lay you out like something sacred, didn’t I?”

Phantom whimpers, eyes fluttering shut.

“He got you all worked up, didn’t he?” Rain murmurs, dragging his teeth gently along their fingers. “He’s good at that. Makes you ache without even trying.”

“I -” Phantom gasps, their hips jerking. “I - please - I need -”

Dew hums, dragging the shirt over their head and tossing it aside. “Told you we’d keep you warm,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss between their shoulder blades. “Told you we’d stuff you full til you forgot your own name.”

Rain grinds his thigh up just slightly, and Phantom cries out, high and breathless, forehead falling to Rain’s shoulder.

“I c-can’t,” they stammer. “Please, let me - I need to -”

“Oh, poor buggy,” Dew coos. “You’re begging already?”

Rain kisses their temple, voice soft but urgent. “You can come like this. Go on. You’ve earned it.”

Phantom’s whole body tightens, hips grinding harder now, deeper, like friction is the only thing that matters. Dew's hand strokes their stomach in slow, possessive circles.

Phantom whines, head tipping back as their hips stutter, rolling in desperate little jerks.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Just like that.”

Rain’s lips catch theirs again, soft and certain, swallowing the moan that breaks free as Phantom shatters between them.

Their body goes taut, legs trembling as they cry out - clutching at Rain’s shoulders, pressed against his thigh, caught in Dew’s arms from behind as everything comes undone.

And then they’re falling, boneless, panting, limp in the space between heat and veneration, wrapped up in murmurs and praise.

Phantom collapses into the nest, their breath still ragged, body humming with aftershocks. Their fingers twitch like they’re still reaching for more, even as their mind blanks out with pleasure.

Rain cradles their face, brushing sweaty strands of hair from their forehead, while Dew presses slow, grounding kisses along their spine.

The room hums with warmth.

Phantom lies between them, breath still uneven, skin damp where kisses landed and hands roamed. Every inch of them pulses; slow, sweet echoes of release still rippling under the surface.

Rain’s palm smooths down the side of their face, thumb tracing beneath one eye. His expression is soft now, no less intense, but gentled by awe.

“Hey,” he whispers, “you good?”

Phantom blinks slowly. Their body feels far away. Like they’ve been poured out and not yet gathered back together.

They don’t answer. Just shift slightly, curling toward Rain’s chest, fingers brushing the line of his ribs. He welcomes the touch with a soft hum, pressing a kiss to their brow.

Behind them, Dew murmurs something low and wordless, the shape of his mouth too lazy to form syllables. His hand rests heavy and sure on their hip, anchoring.

For a long moment, no one moves.

Rain’s breath comes deep and even, chest rising against Phantom’s cheek. Dew’s thumb circles idly along their skin. The heat of the room feels heavy with salt and satisfied want.

Phantom floats in it; limp, warm, and adored.

Eventually, Rain shifts. Just enough to nudge Phantom’s nose with his own.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmurs again, gentler this time, like he already knows the answer.

Phantom lets out a soft, helpless noise. One of their hands curls in the blanket beneath them. The other stays curled against Rain’s chest, fingers twitching once.

“Yeah,” they manage. “Just... feel full.”

Dew laughs quietly. Not mocking, but fond. “Not yet.”

Phantom whimpers, half a protest, half a plea.

Rain grins. “Not even close.”

Then he leans back, just slightly, and looks over Phantom’s flushed body to catch Dew’s eye. Something passes between them, sharp and hungry.

The mood shifts. The heat doesn’t fade, just changes shape.

Dew’s hand lifts from Phantom’s hip. Rain straightens slowly, propped on one elbow now, looking down at him with a kind of carnal reverence.

And that’s when Phantom sees it: they’re about to be the one watching.

Rain moves first. He leans back with a sigh, dragging a hand through his curls, then down his chest, like even he needs a second to gather himself.

“Stay right there, bug,” he murmurs, glancing down. “Don’t move.”

Phantom wouldn’t dream of it. Their limbs are still limp, fingers curled in the blankets, cheek pressed to the heat Rain left behind. They watch through half-lidded eyes, already hungry again.

Rain turns away, rummaging briefly near the edge of the bed. Then -

“Catch.”

Something arcs through the air - a water bottle, half full and blessedly cold. Dew snatches it with one hand as he’s stretching, then crouches beside Phantom and unscrews the cap.

“Drink,” he says, voice softer now. Still wicked, but gentled with care.

He holds it to their lips until they’ve had a few sips, watching with pleased approval as they swallow, throat bobbing.

“There you go,” Rain murmurs, smiling as he watches. “Rest a minute. You’ll want the energy.”

Phantom exhales shakily and sinks back into the nest. The water cools them just enough to keep from slipping under completely; just enough to sharpen the edges of their pleasure-fogged focus.

Dew rises fully, stretching his arms overhead with a low groan, like a lion waking. The muscles of his stomach ripple as he moves. He catches Rain’s eye.

“You gonna give them a show?” he asks, voice low and amused.

Rain hums. “Thought I’d let you start.” He crawls off the bed and stands, eyes raking over Dew with heat so sharp it’s almost a command.

Dew grins, and obeys.

He peels his shirt off slowly, dramatic and deliberate - he knows they’re both watching. His eyes flick to Phantom, then to Rain, then back again. The fabric slides from his shoulders with lazy grace before he tosses it aside, careless. Unrushed.

He pops the button of his pants and drags the zipper down -

One.

Tooth.

At.

A.

Time.

Rain watches him like he’s starving. Phantom does, too - breath catching at the sharp edge of showmanship, at the way Dew commands a room with nothing but a grin and the slow reveal of skin.

When Dew steps out of them, hips cocked, chest bare, Rain’s stills, mouth parting in something close to awe.

“You always this fucking pretty?” he asks, stepping forward.

“Only when I know what’s coming,” Dew murmurs, tilting his chin.

“Careful,” Rain says, mouth curving. “Keep talking like that and you'll be the one on your back.”

Phantom blinks up at both of them - still flushed, still breathless, but grinning now. Sharp and syrup-sweet.

“Is that a promise?” they ask. “Because I’d really like to watch.”

Rain snorts and reaches out, grabbing Dew by the hip and pulling him in.

The kiss starts slow, but it doesn’t stay that way.

Rain groans, low and desperate, and presses in, licking into Dew’s mouth like he’s parched and found the only source of water. Dew grabs his waist, dragging him flush, bare skin against black denim, mouths crushed together as if they’re trying to devour the want between them.

He thumbs open the button, lowers the zipper, and shucks Rain’s pants past his hips, never breaking the kiss.

Their bodies move in perfect rhythm - familiar, hungry, like they’ve done this a hundred times and still can’t get enough.

Phantom watches, stunned.

One hand drags across their own belly, down to where they’re still pulsing. Where it’s not enough.

Not anymore.

They whimper - soft, needy, aching with want.

Rain hears it, the want-drunk need. Pulls back from Dew just enough to look over, curls wild, lips kiss-bitten and eyes gleaming.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice smooth and tempting. “You want more already?”

Phantom nods, helpless.

Rain grins and steps toward the bed, chest still heaving. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that.”

Dew follows with the same slow, rolling desire, heat radiating off him like warning.

Phantom’s pulse pounds louder than the music still echoing in the floorboards. Rain stops at the edge of the bed - close enough to feel but not touch. He leans in, lips hovering just above Phantom’s skin.

Phantom whines, breath hitching, hips canting up to try and meet him. “Please, can’t help it. Still want - still need -”

“Oh, we know,” Dew says, reaching out as Rain pulls away, fingers skimming just under the waistband of their pants. “We’re just deciding how we want to give it to you.”

Rain lets his fingers trace down Phantom’s sternum. “You’re still hot here,” he whispers. “You feel it?”

They nod, squirming under the weight of attention.

Dew climbs in beside them, stretching out like a golden flame. One hand props up his head, the other slides down Phantom’s thigh.

“We could make you wait,” he muses, teasing all sugar-sweet. “Let you watch Rain take me apart with that mouth of his. Let you bask in every noise, every moan.”

Rain hums, tongue dragging slow along Phantom’s collarbone. “Or maybe I’ll sit behind you,” he whispers. “Hold you still. Make you watch him slide in - slow.”

Phantom’s hips twitch at the image, breath gone ragged again.

“But not yet,” Rain murmurs, brushing a kiss to the corner of their mouth. “Not until you’re ready.”

“Just lie still, bug,” Dew purrs.

Rain presses his forehead to theirs. “Gonna touch you now, okay? You’ll tell us if you need to stop?”

“Promise,” Phantom sighs.

Dew smiles and nips at their jaw. “You’re gonna melt for us, bug. Gonna make a mess of this nest.”

Phantom arches into their hands - body humming, heart laid bare.

Rain starts slow, achingly slow, kissing down Phantom’s body, mapping the places that make them gasp. He pauses at their waistband, dips his fingers beneath the band, and lifts a brow in silent question.

“Please,” Phantom breathes, reaching blindly - one hand scrabbling for Dew’s fingers, the other touching their chest.

Rain hums and obliges, peeling their pants down with torturous care. He groans when he sees the wet patch darkening their boxers, his fingers trailing down to press against it.

“You’re so soft here,” he whispers. “Warm and wet... can feel you pulsing already.”

Phantom whines, legs twitching as they try to spread, but Dew is still beside them, kneeling with steady hands bracketing their hips.

“Easy, bug,” he murmurs, thumb stroking just below their navel. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Rain slides their boxers off and tosses them aside. When he leans in and licks it's a slow, deliberate drag of tongue along the crease of their hip, maddening in its restraint.

Phantom gasps, hand flying to the sheets, but Rain catches their wrist, gently guiding it up.

“Touch us,” he says, placing their palm at the base of his horn. “Let us know what you like.”

Phantom’s fingers wrap around him; tentative at first, feather-light.

The reaction is instant.

Rain shudders, breath catching, lashes fluttering like he’s windstruck. “That’s it,” he murmurs, voice gone velvet. “Right there, sweetheart.”

Dew hums. “Sensitive, isn’t he?” His tone is low, teasing, but full of fondness. One hand strokes along Phantom’s inner thigh, fingertips dancing just shy of the slick heat between their legs.

“Keep hold of him,” Dew says, brushing his thumb where Rain’s mouth had just been. “He loves being touched there. Gets him all soft in the chest.”

Rain glares at him - no venom, only heat. “Shut up.”

Dew grins. “Make me.”

But neither moves. They’re caught in it now, between tension and tenderness, between breath and promise.

Phantom tightens their grip just slightly.

Rain moans. The sound curls down Phantom’s spine like hot sugar.

“That’s good,” he whispers, dragging his tongue lower, just above their mound. “So good for us. Let us take care of you.”

He exhales, breath ghosting over their cunt without touching, nothing but anticipation.

Phantom whimpers, hips lifting on instinct.

“Easy,” Dew murmurs again. He leans in, kissing their cheek, then their jaw, then lower, sucking slow and sure just beneath their ear. “We’ve got you.”

Rain kisses the crease of their thigh. Once. Again. Then beside the aching slick between their legs.

He lifts one of their thighs to rest on his shoulder, hands bracing them steady.

Then finally - finally - he parts his lips and licks a slow, deliberate stripe through their folds.

Phantom cries out, head thrown back, gripping Rain’s horn like it’s the only thing keeping them tethered to earth. Rain groans in response, sinking deeper, licking again - slower this time, more deliberate.

“Fuck, Rain,” Dew mutters, voice gone rough. “You’re gonna break them.”

Rain glances up, mouth wet, eyes gleaming. “That’s the point.”

Phantom’s thighs tremble.

Dew catches their chin, tilting their face toward his. “Still good, bug?”

They nod, barely. Eyes wide, pupils blown.

“Good.” Dew kisses them hard. “You tell us if it’s too much. Or if you want more.”

Rain hums low and seals his mouth over their clit - slow, savoring, sucking just enough to make Phantom sob into Dew’s mouth.

And still, they haven’t even really begun.

Rain works with aching patience. Every stroke of his tongue pulls another gasp from Phantom, every tender suck making their hips twitch, thighs clenching like they don’t know whether to flee or give in.

Dew shuffles to kneel beside them, one hand spread flat against their chest, just feeling their heart race beneath his palm.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just listens. Watches.

Rain groans, quiet and wrecked, like he’s drunk on the taste.

Dew leans closer, brushing his lips to Phantom’s temple. “You hear that? How he’s moaning for you?”

Phantom nods, dazed.

“Good.” Dew kisses their cheek. “Let him stay buried in that sweet cunt ‘til he sees stars.”

Rain licks again, deeper, and Phantom whines - sharper now, every nerve raw and ready.

Dew trails his hand lower but not to touch where Rain is, not yet. Just cupping their side, stroking lazy circles into sweat-damp skin.

Then Rain groans again, mouth glistening, and pulls back just long enough to breathe. His eyes flutter closed, lashes brushing his flushed cheeks, and Dew can’t help himself.

“I want a taste,” he says softly.

Rain blinks up at him, slow and ruined. He slides his hands beneath Phantom’s thighs, lifting them with a tenderness that belies the heat in his touch.

Dew leans down and kisses Rain over Phantom - tongues brushing, lips meeting at their center like a shared offering. It’s messy and sweet and devastating.

Phantom chokes on a sound, half moan, half prayer, as their back arches, hips caught in the heat between them.

Dew groans into the kiss, one hand moving to part Phantom wider so Rain can lick deeper, slower. When they break apart, Dew drifts to their clit while Rain hums low and circles his tongue in slow spirals, mapping them like holy ground.

It’s too much. Too good. Not enough.

Phantom writhes, mouth parted in a silent cry, hands clutching the sheets like they might be pulled under.

Every time Dew licks across their clit, Rain follows with a gentler pass just below; and then they meet again, mouths brushing through slick heat like they’re sharing communion.

“Please,” Phantom gasps. “Please, I need -”

Rain lifts his head, voice rough. “Need what, sweetheart?”

Dew licks his lips, grinning against their thigh. “You gotta say it.”

“Let me,” Phantom pleads. “Let me suck your cock, Dew. Please, I need it, I want it so bad -”

It’s not just the words. It’s the way they say it. Like prayer. Like truth.

Dew groans like he’s been struck. “Fuck. Rain, did you hear that?”

“Oh, I felt it.” Rain kisses just above their clit, smiling. “You want a turn, buggy? Go ahead. Take it.”

But Phantom doesn’t move yet.

Their chest rises in ragged pulls. Skin gleaming. Eyes wide. Lips parted around a breathless, stunned laugh.

“You... kissed over me.”

Dew grins. “Mmhm. Got a little greedy.”

Rain hums, brushing their hip. “We do that. Especially with things we really want.”

“That’s just the beginning, bug,” Dew adds, voice gone warm and reverent again.

They lie still for a moment, wrapped in breath and body and the scent of arousal, as the haze begins to lift. Fingers unclench. Legs soften.

And that hunger - the one that lives just beneath the overwhelm - flares again.

Rain sees it first, that spark behind Phantom's lashes. He leans in, brushing his nose against their cheek. “You said you wanted to touch us, to taste Dew.”

Phantom nods, steadier now.

Dew props himself up on one elbow, looking thoroughly pleased. “You still want that taste, buggy?”

Phantom turns toward him, determined. “Yes.”

Dew hums, shifting onto his back, arms stretched lazily behind his head. “Then come take it.”

Rain kisses Phantom softly. “We’re all yours.”

Rain shifts behind Phantom, hands gentle but sure as he urges them upright. “Go on, sweetheart,” he murmurs at their ear. “Take him.”

Phantom nods, dizzy with want, but moves with growing confidence. They crawl on all fours across the soft sprawl of blankets until they’re settled between Dew’s spread thighs.

Dew watches them with hooded eyes, arms tucked behind his head like he’s lounging in a sunbeam - but there’s tension in his shoulders, in the sharp breath he draws when Phantom settles in close.

Rain kneels behind them, one hand tracing soothing circles into their lower back.

“He’s sensitive,” Rain whispers. “Start slow. Lick up his shaft - just the tip of your tongue.”

Phantom obeys, tongue darting out for the smallest taste. Dew hisses through his teeth, breath catching sharp and fast.

Rain hums with satisfaction. “That’s it. Good. Just like that.”

His hand slides down, grounding Phantom’s hips as they bend lower, mouth wrapping around Dew with aching care. They’re tentative, still learning, but Rain’s voice is a steady, sinful rhythm in their ear.

“Little more pressure now,” he says, lips brushing their nape. “He likes it right under the head - yeah, there. You’re making him blush.”

Dew groans, hand twitching in the sheets. “You’re such a fuckin’ menace,” he mutters at Rain.

Rain grins, kissing Phantom’s shoulder. “Learned from the best.”

Phantom moans softly around Dew, spurred on by the taste and the helpless sounds unraveling from him. Rain doesn’t stop praising them, his voice curling sweet around every breath.

“That’s our pretty little mess,” he whispers, fingers sweeping over Phantom’s hip as they take Dew deeper. “Look at you, doing so good. Bet he’s gonna shake for you.”

And Dew does; a tremble starting in his thighs, breath catching in his throat.

“Rain - fuck,” he gasps, one hand finding Phantom’s hair. “They’re really - shit, they’re good.”

Rain presses a kiss to the back of Phantom’s neck. “They're also learning from the best.”

Phantom bobs slowly, savoring the way Dew reacts beneath them - the way color blooms across his chest, the tension building in his core.

Rain’s voice curls low again. “You gonna let him come, sweetheart? Or keep him right there, like he did with you?”

Phantom whimpers, cheeks hollowing as they suck harder.

Dew jerks beneath them. “Rain - if they keep -”

Rain laughs softly. “Then let go. Let them take you apart.”

Phantom pulls off just in time.

Dew’s hips buck helplessly, a groan tearing from his throat. “Fuck, bug -”

But Phantom only giggles, licking their lips, eyes bright with mischief. “You taste really good,” they murmur sweetly. “But I want to know how Rain likes it, too.”

They glance over their shoulder, lashes fluttering. Picture-perfect innocent sin. “Will you show me?” they ask Rain, breathless. “Please?”

Rain is already laughing, low and delighted.

Dew flops back into the pillows with a groan. “You’re both lucky you’re cute.”

Rain moves in closer, one hand on Phantom’s hip, the other sliding up Dew’s thigh before he leans down to kiss him.

“You started it,” he murmurs against Dew’s mouth. “Teasing them on the couch like that.”

He pulls back with a smile, smug. “Now you get to watch.”

Dew tips his head back, groaning. “Evil.”

“You love it,” Rain shrugs as he settles into the nest, propped against pillows still warm from Dew’s body. He spreads his legs with easy confidence, watching Phantom approach on their knees, want gleaming behind their eyes.

“You really want to know how I like it?” he asks, voice low, one hand curling under their chin.

Phantom nods, lips parted, eyes wide with a glint of mischief beneath their bashfulness.

Rain brushes a thumb over their bottom lip. “Open, then. Let me show you.”

Phantom obeys. Rain slides two fingers into their mouth, not deep, just enough to feel the slip of their tongue. He groans, hips twitching.

“Good,” he murmurs. “You listen so well.”

Dew shifts beside them, one arm flung over his stomach, watching with hooded eyes and a slow-building flush. “Absolutely evil,” he mutters, voice now tinged with fondness.

Rain grins. “Tell me you wouldn’t trade places.”

Dew mutters something that sounds like fuck off.

Rain chuckles, then guides Phantom down with a steady hand in their hair. “Start slow,” he breathes. “I like the drag of your tongue. A little pressure. Right there - fuck, yes.”

Phantom moans around him, cheeks hollowing on instinct, letting Rain control the pace - his hips rolling gently, fingers tightening in their hair.

“That’s it,” Rain groans. “You look so pretty like this, wrapped around me.”

Dew makes a low, wrecked sound from the side. Phantom shifts, glancing toward him just enough for Rain to notice.

“Don’t worry about him,” Rain murmurs. “He’ll get his turn again. This one’s mine.”

He pushes a little deeper, breath hitching. “Doing so good for me, bug. Wanna see how much you can take.”

Phantom hums around him - already floating, already dripping.

Rain lets them set the rhythm next, guiding with hips and voice. Dew, still flushed and hard, can’t look away.

Phantom is all focus.

Rain’s cock on their tongue, his voice fraying with praise, his hand steady in their hair - nothing else exists. They’re working him deeper now, lashes fluttering. Rain twitches, groaning something low that might be their name.

Phantom moans, emboldened by his unraveling. One hand stretches toward Dew and he catches it immediately, fingers lacing tight.

“You wanna keep me worked up while you suck him off?” Dew grins, letting Phantom tug him closer. “Starving for it, yeah? Got Rain in your throat after having me on your tongue - fuck, you were made to be worshipped like this, weren’t you.”

He kneels beside them again, hand warm on their back. “Use your hand,” he rumbles, guiding it to his cock. “Keep me warm while you make him lose it.”

Phantom obeys - stroking Dew in rhythm with Rain, mouth and hand moving in tandem, surrounded by praise and heat.

Rain trembles, one hand flung back, the other holding Phantom close. “You feel so good,” he breathes.

Dew groans. “Should I let them finish you? Or make you wait like you did to me?”

Rain laughs, breathless, eyes never leaving Phantom’s mouth. “Whatever they want, they get.“

Phantom pulls back, lips glistening, eyes burning. “Please,” they whisper. “I want to make you come.”

Rain’s breath catches. He touches their jaw, thumb brushing their mouth.

“Then take it, sweetheart. It’s yours.”

Phantom takes Rain deeper, strokes Dew with more confidence, fingers slick and sure. Dew groans behind them, forehead pressed to their shoulder, restraint taut.

“Don’t let him come yet,” Dew whispers. “Not until I say.”

Rain moans, spine arching. “Now who’s evil.”

“You also love it,” Dew growls. “And they’re learning. Look at them.”

Phantom sucks harder, mouth working with slow, luxurious devotion, until Rain is gasping, body shaking beneath them.

Dew kisses Phantom’s shoulder. “One more minute, bug. Then I’ll let you take him over the edge.”

Phantom hums and Rain shatters.

He trembles beneath Phantom’s mouth, muscles in his stomach fluttering every time they swallow him a little deeper. Dew watches his water ghoul unravel with a grin that’s all sharp teeth and wicked delight.

“Lucifer, Rain,” he drawls, thumb brushing his own slick tip. “You drop your composure faster than a novitiate. Thought you had oceans of control.”

Rain tries to glare, but it falters into a gasp when Phantom’s tongue flutters beneath his head. “Shut up,” he pants.

Phantom moans around him, sending a shock of sensation through Rain’s core. Dew’s laughter curls hot at Phantom’s ear.

“See?” he purrs, guiding their hand a little tighter around him. “He preaches patience, but put a sweet mouth on him and he melts in thirty seconds. Pitiful, really.”

Rain growls, but it breaks into a whine when they suck harder. Dew’s eyes glitter.

“Easy, tide-pool,” he teases. “Don’t embarrass yourself too soon. Bug still hasn't earned it.”

Phantom flushes, half arousal, half challenge, and pulls back until only the tip rests on their tongue. Rain’s hips chase, a strangled plea slipping free.

“Oh, did you hear that?” Dew coos. “Little plea from the deep. Shameful. You wanna come already, Rainy?”

Rain’s answer is a broken exhale. Phantom glances up through their lashes, a silent question shimmering in their gaze.

“Not yet,” Dew says, stroking their hair back. “Let him stew. Hollow your cheeks - nice and slow. Make him beg properly.”

Phantom obeys, sucking with languid precision, tongue circling the crown. Rain’s hips stutter, composure fraying inch by inch.

“D-Dew -” Rain gasps.

“I said beg,” Dew whispers, lips brushing Phantom’s ear as he leans in. One hand slips under Rain’s jaw, tilting his chin up. “Tell sweet Phantom how badly you want to spill down their throat.”

Rain’s cheeks flush a deep navy. His voice is wrecked.

“Please,” he rasps. “Please - need to come in your mouth. Need to feel you swallow.”

Phantom whimpers around him. Dew hums, sliding two fingers between their thighs and pressing firm circles where they ache most.

“That’s it, bug. He’s earned it - and so have you.”

Phantom sucks deep, hand twisting at the base. Dew’s fingers move in matching rhythm as Rain cries out, hips arching high. He trembles - spine taut, lips parted, breath stuttering like a wave crashing too fast. The wet heat of Phantom’s mouth milks him through every pulse, every flicker of pleasure as it shudders through him, bright and blinding.

Phantom swallows him down until the tremors fade, until Rain collapses back in a haze of afterglow, entirely undone, chest heaving, eyes blown. Dew withdraws his fingers, licking them clean with smug delight.

“Such a pretty blush,” he murmurs.

Rain laughs. He cups Phantom’s flushed cheeks, brushing a pearl of release from their lip.

“Perfect,” he murmurs. “You're fucking perfect.”

Phantom shivers and mewls - part triumph, part longing as Dew’s teasing strokes between their thighs resume, slow and determined.

Rain sprawls in the nest, looking every inch a spoiled prince: hair tousled, lips swollen, chest still rising with the aftershocks of release. He watches as Dew stretches out beside him, one brow raised, amused and unbothered.

“Give me ten minutes,” Rain murmurs, voice honey-sweet and breathless. “I’ll be good to go again. Maybe five, if Phantom keeps making those sounds. Fifteen if you keep running your mouth.”

He tips his head lazily toward Phantom, who’s still kneeling between them, flushed and glistening, rocking against Dew’s lithe fingers.

Rain’s hand slides over Dew’s stomach, resting just above the trail of hair that leads down. “In the meantime…” he hums, propping himself up to brush Phantom’s damp hair from their face, “why don’t we make him beg a little, sweetheart?”

Phantom whimpers, half-dazed, and Rain’s smile softens into something indulgent.

“Go on,” he says gently, guiding their hand back to Dew’s cock. “Stroke him slow. Just like he's giving to you. You’ve already made me fall apart - let’s see if you can make him sweat.”

Dew groans, head tipping back into the pillows with a low exhale. “You're both impossible.”

Rain hums quietly, curling up against Dew’s side like a satisfied cat.

He kisses Dew’s jaw, then Phantom’s shoulder, trailing lazy praise between them while Phantom resumes their touch, slow, devout, guided by Rain’s languid, murmurs.

“Not too fast,” Rain whispers, fingers brushing Phantom’s wrist. “Make him ache for it.”

And oh, Dew does - his muscles go tense, hips lifting into Phantom’s palm, voice breaking on a breathy curse.

Rain smiles, lips brushing Dew’s ear. “Let them take care of you,” he purrs. “We’re only just getting started.”

He kisses the curve of Dew’s jaw, then lower, just beneath his ear. “Still so tense,” he murmurs, teeth grazing skin before he soothes it with his tongue. “Poor thing.”

Dew huffs, breath caught somewhere between a moan and a laugh. “You’re the one who just got wrecked.”

“Mmn,” Rain hums, unbothered. “And yet, I'm still multitasking.”

His fingers drift down Phantom’s arm, cool and guiding, until they find their wrist again, giving them just enough pressure to keep the rhythm steady.

“Don’t speed up,” he says softly. “Drag your palm up his shaft, then twist, just a little, at the top.”

Phantom does, their breath hitching at the way Dew shudders beneath them.

Rain watches, predatory and pleased, then kisses down Dew’s chest, slow, open-mouthed, worshipful.

Dew groans, one arm over his eyes, the other fisting the blankets. “You’re both fuckin’ devils.”

“Maybe,” Rain says, nipping at the hollow just beneath his ribs, “but we’re yours.”

He dips lower, cheek resting on Dew’s hip, lips brushing warm skin.

“Maybe we’ll keep him like this,” he murmurs to Phantom, tucking their hair behind one ear. “All aching and desperate. Let you decide when he gets to come.”

Dew groans again, hips twitching. “You’re the worst.”

Rain grins. “Ten minutes, I said. I never said I’d stay out of the way.”

His tongue flicks just beside where Phantom’s hand strokes, breath cool on flushed skin. Dew growls low.

“Sweetheart,” Rain murmurs, velvet and vice, “tell me - do you want him to finish here?”

Phantom's rhythm falters as they blink up at Rain.

His eyes gleam. “Or would you rather feel him spill inside?”

Dew jerks like a string’s been pulled, a raw sound escaping him.

Rain kisses the salt-soaked skin at Dew’s hip. “You get to choose,” he murmurs. “He’s yours now, too.”

Phantom’s hand stills completely. Their breath catches as Rain’s words coil around something low and deep at the base of their spine.

They look up - flushed, wide-eyed, lips parted like the words might fall out on instinct alone.

Rain stills beside Dew, reaching to touch Phantom’s chin with his thumb. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

Phantom shakes.

“Want both of you,” they whisper

Rain’s brows twitch. “You already have both of us.”

Phantom leans in, palms splayed against Dew’s thighs, pupils blown wide - pleading.

“No,” they say softly. “Inside. Please. I want you both…at the same time.”

Their words hang in the air like a spell, soft and shivering.

Rain doesn’t speak at first. Just watches them, eyes stunned open with something tender and wild. His thumb stays pressed to their chin, holding, like if he lets go the moment might vanish.

Dew shifts below them, breath catching. His eyes are blown-black, skin flushed deep. He doesn’t speak either, just breathes, slow and shallow, like he’s learning how for the first time.

For a heartbeat - two - no one moves.

Rain exhales, like he’s steadying something inside himself. He leans forward, resting his forehead gently against Phantom’s. “Both,” he repeats. “You want everything, all at once.”

Phantom nods, throat clicking as they swallow.

Rain’s lips brush their cheek. “Then we’ll give it to you,” he says. “Every fucking drop.”

Dew makes a quiet sound, part groan, part need, part something softer he’s in no position to name right now.

Rain turns toward him. “You ready?”

Dew nods once, sharp. “Been ready.”

Phantom trembles, reaching for them both. “Need to feel you. All of you. Please. I can take it.”

Rain sits back on his heels slowly, eyes never leaving theirs. “You’ll tell us if you need to stop?”

“I promise.”

Dew’s already moving, his touch firm, trailing down the line of their spine to the slick heat between their thighs. He groans softly, thumb brushing their hip.

“We’ll make sure you feel every second of it.”

Rain cups Phantom’s jaw, tilts their face up, and kisses them - slow and deep - as Dew spreads them open from behind, one slick finger returning to the heat he just left. Phantom moans into Rain’s mouth, breath hitching.

Rain breaks the kiss to breathe, licking his lips, then reaches between Phantom’s thighs. His fingers gather what spills from their body, and he brings it to Dew’s mouth like a sacred offering.

Dew meets his gaze, dark and starving, and opens without hesitation. Rain presses two fingers past his lips, slow. Dew sucks them clean.

The kiss that follows is filthy - wet and open-mouthed, full of Phantom’s taste, tongues sliding together as Dew fists his cock and trails his other hand along Phantom’s spine. Phantom watches, half-delirious, chest rising fast.

Rain shuffles even closer, his cool thumb brushing the side of Phantom’s throat. “You’re sure?” he whispers, softer than anything has a right to be at a time like this.

Phantom nods, never more sure of anything. “Please. I want to be yours - I want to be Dew’s.”

That’s all it takes.

Rain kisses them again, warm and endless. The kind of kiss that says thank you. That says we heard you. That says we’ll take everything you offer and never once treat it like anything less than sacred.

Dew moves in behind them, wrapping around the two of them like heat made flesh. His mouth presses to the curve of Phantom’s shoulder, then to Rain’s temple. “Gonna take our time with you,” he murmurs.

Phantom’s chest shudders between both of them - between breath and pulse and the drag of lips against skin.

Rain leans back just enough to trace their jaw, their neck, their throat with kisses - each one slow and deliberate. “We’ll open you up nice and slow,” he says. “Stretch you sweet. So full of us you won’t know where to put all the want.”

Dew’s hand drops lower, coaxing Phantom’s thighs apart. “Let us in, bug,” he says, voice curling like smoke beneath their skin. “Let us show you what it really means to be worshiped.”

Phantom gasps as his fingers brush their slick heat and travel further back before being pulled away, teasing.

Rain watches their face, drinking in every shift of breath, every ripple of tension and trust.

Phantom moans, one hand clutching Rain’s shoulder, the other reaching back for Dew’s arm like a lifeline.

“Please.”

Dew chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to their nape. “Look at you, already shaking.”

Rain hums. “We’ll start with our fingers, yeah?”

Phantom nods, wordless with need.

Rain kisses the corner of their mouth. “Just breathe for us.”

Rain settles between Phantom’s legs as Dew cradles their back, helping them recline. Their bodies move in tandem - practiced, patient. His fingers are first. Two pressed together, slick and slow, circling where Phantom still flutters with want. He watches their face as he slides one inside, testing, curling just slightly.

“So soft,” he murmurs. “So warm. You’re perfect.”

Phantom moans, hips twitching - just as Dew’s hand joins his. He sinks a warm finger next to Rain's before dragging it back between their cheeks, circling their rim intently.

Phantom gasps. “Oh - fuck -”

“We’ve got you,” Dew growls, lips brushing their shoulder. “You can have both.”

Rain strokes slow circles on Phantom’s inner thigh, gaze lifting with gentle command. “You’re opening up so well for us. Look how good you take us.”

Rain pauses to let Dew work himself in, thin finger gently breaching the tight ring of muscle. Phantom sighs with it, relaxing, and lets themself be filled.

Their fingers work in a rhythm - one pressing deeper while the other pulls back, a slow stretch and curl that leaves Phantom panting. Rain curls his fingers just right, and Dew follows with a firm press, stroking higher.

“Right there,” Rain says softly. “That feel good, sweetheart?”

Phantom moans, wordless, back arching.

Dew kisses their neck. “So good for us. Bet you’ll be dripping by the time we’re done.”

Rain grins against their thigh. “They already are.”

Phantom whimpers, caught between soft and sharp, each stroke sending sparks up their spine.

“You want us to keep going?” Rain asks.

“Please,” they whisper. “Don’t stop.”

Rain slips in a second finger, slow and deliberate, letting the stretch bloom. Dew’s hand never leaves their side, rubbing steady circles into their hip, anchoring. But his voice? Still all menace wrapped in sugar.

“You feel that?” Dew whispers, pressing his mouth against Phantom’s temple. “Just a few fingers and you’re already clenching like you’ll never let go.”

Rain groans low, pressing kisses to Phantom’s thigh between every movement. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Squeezing so tight. Like you’re trying to keep us in.”

Their fingers begin to move in sync - scissoring slightly with every pass. The pressure builds slow, unbearable.

Drag. Curl. Stretch.

Rain finds the spot that makes Phantom jolt, and Dew grins as they gasp.

“Fuck,” Dew says. “We touch that little spot and you clench around us like you’re scared we’ll stop.”

“We won’t,” Rain adds, his voice soft as sin. “Not until you’re begging. Not until you’re crying for it.”

Phantom moans and their legs fall open wider.

Rain groans. “Look at you. Taking us so well. You want a third, bug?”

They nod frantically, fists twisting in the sheets.

Dew chuckles, low and dangerous. “Say it.”

“P-please,” Phantom stammers, barely able to form the word. “Need it - need you - both of you - inside -”

Rain hums, licking a slow stripe up their thigh. “Good boy.”

Together, they each slide in a third finger - carefully, gradually. Phantom cries out, body arching, caught in the stretch and the praise and the steady burn of being so beautifully full.

Rain presses his forehead to Phantom’s hip, his breath shaky. “Almost there, sweetheart. Almost ready.”

Dew licks the corner of their jaw, soft and starving. “You want it now, don’t you? Want to be filled, split open, fucked so slow you forget where you end and we begin?”

Phantom whimpers, nodding, eyes squeezed shut.

Rain’s voice is barely more than a whisper. “Say the word.”

Phantom’s breath catches, their voice a rasp. “Don’t - don’t make me beg -”

But they’re already breaking on the edges of it, fingers trembling where they clutch at Rain’s arms, eyes flicking back toward Dew like they can’t bear the weight of choosing.

“I want both of you,” they whisper, wrecked and sweet. “Please - Dew, Rain - please, I need you. I need both.”

Their hips roll helplessly. “I can’t - can’t wait anymore -”

Rain withdraws with aching slowness, fingers sliding free, glistening. Phantom shudders, a broken sound falling from their lips as they collapse gently back into Dew’s chest.

Rain lies back into the nest, arms open in welcome, curls fanning the pillow like a halo. He’s flushed and gorgeous, chest rising slowly as he watches Phantom shift in Dew’s lap with shaking limbs and wide, hungry eyes.

“Come here,” he breathes. “Sit on me, sweetheart. Come take what you need.”

Phantom lets out a sound - half disbelief, half need - as Dew lifts them carefully, guiding their body to straddle Rain. Their knees sink into the nest of blankets, trembling with anticipation. For a moment they hover, breath shallow, cradled by the heat and weight of two steady pairs of hands.

Rain is already waiting, flushed and aching. He looks up at them with gentle, devastating hunger. “I want you like this,” he rumbles. “Want to see your face when you take both of us.”

Dew grins against the back of their neck. “Sure you can take it, little bug?”

Phantom nods, reaching instinctively. “I need to.”

Rain groans at the sound of it - wrecked and soft, and wanting. He steadies himself beneath them, the tip of his cock slick and ready as Dew keeps them parted, keeps them upright.

“Go slow,” Rain says, voice low and reverent. “Use me. I’m yours.”

Phantom lowers themselves - inch by inch - the slide agonizing.

Rain’s head tips back, breath catching. “Oh, fuck.”

Phantom cries out, caught in the stretch - and they’re only halfway down.

“F-fuck,” they gasp. “You’re... big -”

“You’re taking me so well,” Rain says, eyes locked on the place their bodies meet. “So fucking perfect, bug.”

They sink the rest of the way with a warbling moan, hips flush, muscles quivering from the fullness. Rain’s hands grip their waist, steadying.

Behind them, Dew watches like a man starved.

“Look at you,” he growls, stroking a hand down his own chest. “Straddling him like you were made for it.”

Phantom shudders, bracing their hands on Rain’s ribs.

Rain looks up at them, awe wide in his eyes. “Take your time,” he murmurs. “Move when you’re ready.”

And Phantom does - slow at first, hips rolling to find the rhythm, the drag, the give. Their breath stutters, voice catching in the back of their throat with every slide.

Rain groans beneath them, hands still steady on their hips. “Just like that,” he murmurs. “Just like that.”

Dew leans in behind them, one hand trailing up their spine, fingers brushing sweat-damp skin.

“Ready for more?” he purrs.

Phantom moans, already nodding. “So ready.”

Dew shifts behind Phantom, slow and deliberate. He doesn’t reach for them right away - just lets his hands coast along their hips, their waist, their thighs, like he’s memorizing them by touch alone.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough as his palms smooth over the backs of their thighs. “Opened up so pretty for me.”

Phantom whines, hips searching.

But Dew takes his time. He wraps a hand around himself, stroking slow as he watches them squirm. “Feel that, bug?” he says, pressing the weight of his cock lightly against them. “That’s for you. All of it.”

Phantom gasps, rolling back again, hungry for more.

Rain chuckles beneath them, lips brushing the edge of Phantom’s ear. “Needy.” His hands cradle their waist, keeping them steady while Dew reaches between their cheeks - slick fingers returning to the stretch he’s been building.

“Gonna open you just a little more,” Dew murmurs. “Then I’m going to fill you so good.”

Rain lifts his head, mouth finding Phantom’s chest in a trail of kisses, cool and tender. Phantom moans - trapped between fire and ice, between fullness and the ache for more.

They rock in Rain’s lap, moans breaking with every breath, hips stuttering as sensation builds. Rain holds them close, his hands steady, voice soft with praise. Their mouths find each other - wet and eager, lips parted, Phantom’s whimpers swallowed into Rain’s breathless rhythm.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs against their mouth.

Phantom whines, body bowing - Rain pressing into places that make their toes curl, their spine arch, their voice catch in their throat.

And then -

Dew lowers himself behind them, spreading them wider, his breath ghosting over the place where Phantom wraps around Rain.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Just look at you.”

His tongue flicks out, lapping at the slick where Rain and Phantom are joined. Phantom shudders, muscles going tight.

Rain groans into their mouth, hips jolting. “Dew -”

“Let me taste,” Dew growls. “Let me worship you both.”

He licks a long, slow line up the crease of Phantom’s entrance, collecting the wetness already spilling around Rain’s cock. His tongue travels, soft, sure pressure against their rim, and Phantom’s breath catches - head tipping back, mouth open in a silent gasp.

Rain kisses their neck, whispering through gritted teeth, “You’re shaking for us. You feel everything, don’t you?”

Phantom nods, wordless.

Dew eases two fingers back in, slick and practiced, pressing against the muscle he’s been coaxing open all night. Phantom clenches around Rain with a strangled moan, and Rain groans low in response.

“So tight,” Dew murmurs. “So sweet.”

“I’ve been patient,” Phantom whispers, voice shaking. “Want you. Please.”

Dew groans, the sound of it raw. “You hear that, Rain? Begging for it.”

Rain hums, fingers brushing down Phantom’s spine. “Then give them what they want.”

“Just a little more,” Dew rumbles, and Phantom sobs out a moan.

Rain holds them through it, arms wrapped around their waist, anchoring them while Dew works slowly, lovingly behind them. He adds a third finger now, gently, stretching them further, then licks again, right where Rain disappears inside them, mouth hot and endless.

Phantom sobs into Rain’s shoulder when Dew finally withdraws, trembling around the absence, muscles fluttering.

Rain’s hands stroke down their sides, grounding. “You’re almost there,” he whispers. “Just a little longer, sweetheart.”

“Wanna feel every inch,” Dew murmurs, voice rough with restraint. “Let me take my time.”

Phantom whimpers, fingers curling tight against Rain’s chest.

Dew lines himself up, finally - his tip brushing against their rim, just barely catching. He exhales hard through his nose, one hand braced on their hip, the other steadying at the small of their back.

“Tell me no,” he says, quiet as prayer.

Phantom doesn’t hesitate. “Please.”

Dew presses forward - not enough to breach, just enough to tease, to let them feel the heat and weight of him.

Rain cups Phantom’s face in both hands, tilting their gaze toward him. “We’ve got you.”

He shifts beneath them, guiding their hips just slightly upward. Phantom whines at the loss of depth, but Rain’s kiss to their temple is grounding. “Just a moment,” he soothes. “Just long enough to let him in.”

Phantom nods, biting their lip.

Slowly, steadily, Dew begins to push.

Phantom exhales with a long whine as he enters, inch by careful inch. Rain watches every flicker of emotion across their face, brushing his thumbs over their cheekbones to anchor them.

“That’s it,” Dew groans, deep and low. “So good for me.”

Phantom’s mouth falls open around a breathless sound - too full for words, the stretch threading through them like fire. It’s slow and searing, a blooming ache edged in pleasure.

“Just breathe through it,” Rain says gently. “You’re okay.”

Phantom nods, eyes fluttering closed. Dew keeps going, patient and deliberate, his hand never leaving their back, tracing slow circles as he sinks deeper.

“Feel that?” Dew’s voice cracks slightly. “That’s how much I want you.”

They do feel it. Every inch. Every slow, deliberate push that opens them further, takes them deeper.

Rain leans in, whispering against their lips. “So full already. And he’s not even all the way in.”

Phantom sobs, caught in the storm of their voices, their hands, the unbearable, exquisite fullness stretching them to the edge.

Dew groans when he bottoms out - hips flush to the backs of Phantom’s thighs, his grip bruising on their hips for a moment before he eases up, smoothing over their skin like worship.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes. “You did it.”

Rain kisses Phantom’s temple, then their mouth, slow and sure. “You’re perfect. You’re ours.”

Phantom gasps into the kiss, trembling, overwhelmed by fullness and touch and the endless coil of voices wrapping around them like heat.

“I can’t - I -”

“You can,” Rain whispers, lips brushing their cheek. “You’re already doing it.”

Dew leans forward, chest flush to their back, voice rough and reverent at their ear. “You feel like sin made flesh,” he growls. “Like you were made just for this.”

Phantom whines, thighs quaking where they straddle Rain’s hips, one hand scrambling for something to hold. Rain catches it, fingers lacing tight.

Together.

Rain inside, deep and cool, grounding.

Dew behind, hot and insistent, throbbing where he fills the rest of them.

Phantom breathes once - twice -

And begins to move.

The shift is small, tentative. It drags Rain deeper, makes Dew roll tighter behind them, and Phantom’s whole body pulses with it. Every motion presses them full, leaves them quaking, carved open and made holy.

Rain groans beneath them, his grip steady on their hips. “Good boy. Just like that. You’re doing so well.”

Dew mirrors the motion, drawing back only slightly before sliding home again - slow, controlled, every inch deliberate.

Phantom gasps, vision swimming. They’re stretched to the limit, every nerve lit with sensation, body taut and yet still wanting more.

“That’s it, bug,” Dew rasps, thrusting deeper. “Let us hollow you out and fill you with everything Hell ever promised.”

Rain’s fingers spread wider, holding Phantom steady as they start to move in earnest. Their hips rock forward onto him, then back against Dew - caught in the steady, devastating give-and-take of their bodies, of their devotion.

The rhythm builds - slow and sinuous. Phantom whimpers with every thrust, each pass of pressure and friction threading deeper and together they create a kind of madness that feels like prayer.

Dew leans forward, teeth catching Phantom’s earlobe. “You’re so fucking tight,” he growls. “Clenching around both of us like you need it.”

Phantom sobs, their whole body shaking.

“I do,” they gasp. “I do - please, don’t stop - please -”

Rain lifts his head and kisses them hard, swallowing every cry.

They fall into it then - the rhythm, the weight, the heat. Rain and Dew move in tandem, bodies perfectly aligned, fucking Phantom slow and deep, chasing every sound they make, every tremble they draw.

Phantom’s mind begins to fray at the edges. Each thrust is a wave crashing against fragile shorelines, each drag of Rain’s cock inside them grounding and cool, while Dew behind is heat and flame and pressure that won’t relent. Their body is overstretched, overstimulated, slick and shaking, flushed from neck to thighs.

They can feel everything. The pulse of Rain’s heartbeat against their chest. Dew’s low growl, vibrating straight down their spine. The tight, shivery clutch of their own muscles around two cocks that split them open and keep them full.

Their breath hiccups.

Their thighs quake.

“Let go, Phantom,” Dew growls, his voice rough at the edges. “Come for us.”

“Show us how good it feels,” Rain whispers, fingers gentle as they stroke along their ribs. “Let us see the mess we’ve made of you.”

Phantom breaks.

With a choked cry and a full-body shiver, they fall apart - vision whiting out, mouth open in a soundless moan. Their body clenches tight, fluttering around both of them as they come hard, slick pouring, hips stuttering, heat flooding their belly. They feel like they’re glowing from the inside out - torn open, made holy.

Rain follows with a shudder, his breath breaking against Phantom’s skin, groaning as he spills into them. Dew isn’t far behind, clutching Phantom’s hips in a bruising grip as he thrusts one last time and comes with a guttural curse, hips jerking, cock pulsing deep inside.

For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of three uneven breaths.

Sweat-damp skin.

Tangled limbs.

The soft aftershock of something sacred.

Phantom sags against Rain’s chest, boneless, held in place by the strength of Rain’s arms and the weight of Dew’s body at their back. Every inch of them aches in the sweetest way - stretched and claimed, kissed open and filled completely. And still, neither of them lets go.

Rain’s fingers trace slow, cooling lines down their sides, following the path of sweat and soft magic. His lips ghost across their temple, barely a whisper of contact.

“You did so well,” he murmurs.

Behind them, Dew huffs a slow breath against their neck. He hasn’t moved. Still buried deep. “We might’ve overdone it,” he mutters, but his voice is low, warm - his hand still soothing where it strokes their hip.

Phantom hums, a wrecked, dreamy little sound. “Don’t move. Please.”

Rain tightens his hold. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Phantom can feel everything. Rain’s softening length still sheathed inside. Dew, molten and solid behind them, their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Phantom’s own legs shake faintly, the aftermath settling in, but they don’t want to move. Not when Rain’s breath cools the sweat at their collarbone. Not when Dew’s arms are still braced around their waist like the world might shatter if he lets go.

“Stay,” they breathe, barely audible. “Just for a little longer.”

So they stay.

The world can wait, just a while longer.

It could be minutes or hours for all they know, but Rain presses a final kiss to Phantom’s forehead, then shifts beneath them, murmuring: “Stay with Dew. I’ll go run a bath.”

Phantom makes a soft, protesting sound, but Rain hushes them gently. “Just a few minutes. I promise.”

Then he’s gone - padding into the bathroom, the cool air slipping in where his body had been. A soft hum trails behind him, drifting back like a lullaby.

Which leaves Dew.

Still inside. Hardening again.

Phantom stirs, but Dew’s arm wraps around their waist, pulling them back tight to his chest. “Don’t even think about moving, buggy.”

Phantom shivers. “You said you’d let me rest.”

“I said nothing of the sort,” Dew murmurs, his voice all smoke and smile. “Rain did. I haven’t had my fill.”

He shifts them gently, guiding them down onto the nest. His cock slips free, followed by a warm, slow spill of Rain’s release.

It begins to drip down their thigh.

Dew grins.

“Well,” he purrs, licking his lips, “can’t waste anything Rainy gives us, now can we?”

Phantom whimpers, weak and trembling, but their body is already arching for more.

Dew kneels between their legs, spreading them wide. And then -

His tongue is on them.

Hot. Greedy. Worshipful.

He licks slowly at the mess between their thighs, chasing every drop with a reverence that borders on possessive. His hands are firm on their hips, keeping them open, keeping them his. He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t press. Just drinks from them like Rain’s taste is sacrament.

Phantom sobs a breath - already overstimulated, their nerves frayed and glowing. The contrast makes their head spin. Rain’s gentleness is still ghosting their skin, but Dew’s mouth? Pure fire.

“Dew, please -”

“Mmm,” he hums into them, unhurried. “I’ll be quick. Want him to see what we made together - your cunt slick with him, blessed by my tongue.”

His tongue flicks along their folds, lapping up the spend that still clings there. Phantom shudders, thighs twitching. There’s no pressure this time. No push. Just heat, and care, and the slow claiming of someone who won’t be rushed.

Dew licks deeper - slow and pious, chasing Rain’s taste with single-minded devotion. His tongue traces tender, molten lines between their folds, over their entrance, and Phantom sobs, their body still trembling from the aftermath.

It’s still too much. It’s still not enough.

Their thighs twitch, hips lifting without thought, and Dew hums low in response. He flattens his tongue and drags upward in one slow, claiming stroke.

Phantom shudders. Their moan is soft this time, more ache than cry, as the pleasure starts to bloom again, slow and unstoppable. It crests not like a wave, but like a tide: gentle, inevitable, everywhere.

They climax with a gasp, small and shivering, body pulsing around nothing, heat and touch still lingering in every nerve.

Dew doesn’t stop - he licks them through it, soft and careful, guiding them down from that final high with the same patience he showed while filling them.

Only when their legs twitch, when they tug on his horn with a groan, does he finally pull back. His lips are glistening, his smile slow and full of awe.

“There,” he whispers, stretching up to press a kiss to their cheek. “Now you’re ready for your bath.”

Rain returns not long after, pausing in the doorway at the sight of Phantom sprawled out, flushed and gasping, with Dew nuzzled smugly into their neck.

He raises a brow. “I was gone for five minutes.”

Dew licks the corner of his mouth. “Your fault. You made them taste too good.”

Rain sighs, fond and long-suffering.

He crosses the room with that slow, grounded grace, damp curls clinging to his temples from the steam rising off the bath. He takes in the scene without speaking - Phantom, glowing and boneless, glistening with sweat and affection; Dew, still half-hard and entirely too pleased with himself.

“You just couldn’t wait, could you?” Rain murmurs as he crouches beside them. One hand strokes Phantom’s hair back from their face, and then he tilts his chin gently toward Dew. “Took it upon yourself to get one last taste.”

Dew doesn’t even bother pretending to be sorry. He licks his teeth, eyes glittering as he shifts just enough for Rain to notice the problem he’s left himself with.

“You were gone,” Dew says, all fake innocence. “They were leaking. I was helping.”

Rain snorts, but the flush that creeps up his throat betrays him. His gaze flicks to Dew’s cock, still twitching faintly, and back up to his face. “Mhm. I see.”

He leans in close and presses a kiss to Phantom’s forehead, slow and steady. Then, lips brushing their ear, he murmurs gently:

“You rest now, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

And then, with that same quiet control, Rain turns to Dew.

“And you,” he says, brushing a single finger along the curve of Dew’s cock - just once, just enough to make him twitch - “are going to behave while I bathe them.”

Dew sucks in a sharp breath, body tight with restraint.

Rain’s smile is infuriatingly soft. “And when our sweet bug is clean and asleep - then, my little firestarter, I’ll take care of you.”

Dew lets out a laugh, cock straining against the threat of patience. “That a promise?”

Rain leans in, pressing a kiss just above his collarbone, teeth dragging the faintest bit.

“No,” he whispers. “That’s a threat.”

Phantom giggles against Rain’s chest as he gathers them in strong arms, wrapping them close. They melt into his hold, limp with exhaustion, still glowing from the aftershocks.

Dew collapses back onto the nest, one arm thrown dramatically over his eyes. “Fuck, I love you both.”

Rain pauses at the doorway, Phantom tucked warm and safe against him. His eyes glint with mischief and devotion in equal measure.

“We know,” he says, all smug affection. “Now behave.”

-

The bathroom is filled with steam and soft golden light, the wide tub nearly overflowing with warm water and the scent of lavender and bergamot. Rain lowers Phantom into it carefully, cradling them close until they’re half-submerged, limbs loose and pliant in the heat.

Phantom sighs, a long, broken exhale that melts into the water like a blessing. Their head lolls back against Rain’s chest as he slips in behind them, gathering their body close, their thighs draped over his.

“Better?” Rain whispers, cupping warm water over their chest and watching it bead and roll down the flushed lines of their skin.

“Mmm,” Phantom hums, sinking further.

Rain kisses their shoulder, one hand gently running a cloth along their stomach, wiping away the last remnants of sweat and slick with the same care he might use for a priceless glass artifact.

“You did so well tonight,” he murmurs. “So brave. So good.”

Phantom doesn’t answer - but their smile, sleepy and soft, is enough.

A moment of stillness settles. Rain shifts, adjusting Phantom in his arms. Then he closes his eyes - and sends.

The bond pulses like a ripple in still water: an invitation, warm and wordless, brushing the edge of Dew’s mind.

If you’d like to join us…

The door creaks open a breath later.

“Miss me already?” Dew asks, voice cocky but low. There’s no bite to it - just fondness wrapped in swagger.

Rain doesn’t look up. “Of course not. I’m just keeping an eye on the wild creature who can’t be left alone for five minutes without licking something he shouldn’t.”

Phantom laughs, still tucked against his chest.

Dew snorts, hips swaying slightly as he slides into the tub with the lazy grace of someone who delights in being watched.

The water shifts with his weight, heat curling around all three of them. He settles across from them, knees brushing Rain’s under the surface, then reaches for Phantom’s foot, drawing it gently into his lap to rub slow circles along their arch.

“You missed me,” Dew says, gaze soft now, completely ruined by the sight of the two of them together. “Just admit it.”

Rain raises a brow. “We were apart for three minutes.”

“Three long minutes.”

Rain smirks. “Mm. Better this way anyway. Now I can keep an eye on you.”

Dew grins, sharp and full of mischief. “Only one? You’ll need both. I’m slippery when wet.”

Phantom huffs and presses their foot more firmly into Dew’s palm.

Rain kisses behind their ear and murmurs, “Lucky for me, I’ve got very good hands.”

And there, in the warmth of the water, the scent of their skin, and the gentle hush of shared laughter, they settle. All three of them. Tired. Loved. Together.

Eventually, however, the water begins to cool.

Rain hums low and Phantom stirs sleepily in his arms. Dew’s fingers slow their massage of Phantom’s calf, his other hand drawing lazy circles through the bathwater.

“We should get them dry,” Rain says softly, brushing his lips against Phantom’s temple. “Then to bed.”

Dew groans. “Can’t we just stay here forever?”

Rain tilts his head, kisses Phantom again, then glances at Dew over their shoulder. “I thought you wanted something.”

Dew perks up immediately. “Right. Yes. Carry on.”

Rain stands first, lifting Phantom with care as water sheets down their bodies in soft ribbons. Dew follows, grabbing towels with far more enthusiasm than necessary, helping Rain wrap Phantom in soft cotton before toweling his own hair with a huff.

By the time they reach the bed, Phantom is already half-asleep, nestled between the two of them like a fallen star.

Rain settles on one side, fingers combing gently through Phantom’s damp hair. Dew curls in behind them, nuzzling into the crook of Rain’s neck, one arm slung over both of them like a shield.

The silence stretches - heavy with comfort. The room glows dimly with the flicker of a distant candle.

“So,” Dew whispers, voice low and playful against Rain’s skin, “were you serious about that promise?”

Rain smiles without opening his eyes. “Which one?”

“The one about taking care of me.”

Phantom shifts faintly, a sleepy sound caught in their throat.

Rain’s hand stills in their hair. His voice dips, dangerous.

“Oh, I always keep my promises.”

Rain’s breath stirs the hair at Dew’s nape as he turns and leans in - cool and close. “You really want me to start something now?” he whispers.

Dew shivers. “You wouldn’t dare.”

A pause.

A slow exhale.

Then Rain’s lips ghost over that sensitive spot just behind Dew’s ear, and Dew yelps - a strangled little noise that’s instantly muffled by Rain’s hand clapping over his mouth.

Across the bed, Phantom shifts faintly, their voice barely more than breath, slurred with sleep and full of affection:

“…If you’re gonna start something, at least wait ‘til I’m unconscious.”

Rain chuckles against Dew’s shoulder.

Dew huffs beneath his palm, flustered and glowing.

The candle flickers once.

And the room fades into breath and shadows and the soft, sacred hush of bodies held in devotion.