Chapter Text
In the quiet of your modest flat, your phone suddenly buzzes on the coffee table. You grasp at it weakly as it vibrates in a slow circle and accidentally knock it out of the way several times with your fingertips before it's in your hands. Steadying yourself with a grounding breath, you answer.
Astarion's voice comes through clearly, almost sing-songy. “Hello, my sweet. I hope I haven't woken you up.”
“Not at all. You're, uh— mm, you're just the person I was thinking of.”
“Oh? Missing me already?”
"Every day." You tense a little, head falling back against the couch cushions as your gaze floats up to the ceiling. “ Yes, ” you breathe.
“Well, that was little—” He pauses as the gears in his mind turn. “Are you... thinking of me, hm?”
Your head is swimming. Your cheeks and chest are burning. You're trying not to pant. “Of course. Always.”
“I see.” He doesn't see, isn't convinced at all, but you hear a smile in his voice when he asks, “Is Halsin with you tonight?”
He must hear Astarion through the tiny speaker of your phone, because the head between your legs hums an affirmative. He squeezes your thighs and buries his face in deeper.
When all you offer is a repressed whimper, Astarion barks out a laugh. “Have I caught you two in the middle of it? My, how scandalous. Well, don't tease me, darling. You may as well put on a show.”
"Fuck," you sigh. Halsin sucks mercilessly at your clit and gets you so, so close. "Are you sure?"
"When you're making noises like that at me? Yes. I'm sure."
Halsin is intentionally making it difficult for you to do anything with his big frame between your legs. You tell him Astarion wants to partake and the greedy boy simply hmmphs against your crotch, not peeling his mouth away for even a second as you struggle to lean forward and brace the phone against a couple of books on the coffee table. You accept the request to switch to video.
Seconds pass, and Astarion's figure appears on screen after he's set the phone up similarly in front of him. He's illuminated on the right by sun filtering through a shaded window, leaned back on a couch of his own with his jaw resting on one hand a little tiredly. Light makeup, somewhat worn away with time, darkens his eyes and lips. Regardless of an obvious long day, he's fucking gorgeous as ever.
“Well, hello, my naked little lovebirds,” he says with a mischievous grin. “What a sight.”
You don't have the modesty to cover yourself, but his commentary warms your face nonetheless. Halsin shows a little mercy then and gives you a break, but not before nipping your thigh playfully. You shove his face away, tell him to behave, and he smiles and fakes you out with another.
“Are you still at work?” You ask now that the delightful distraction is resting his head in your lap like a patient dog.
You see his eyes glance up somewhere past the phone. He shakes his head and gestures dismissively. “Pah, these Americans have all but had it with me. Rest assured, my love; no one'll be a bother for the rest of the day. By all means, continue.”
“Won't someone hear?”
He turns his head and taps the light piece of plastic sticking out of his ear. A thin, silver piece of jewelry dangling from it also glints in the sunlight, but you can't quite make out what it is. A sword?
“Why not grab yours?” He says, then drops his voice just a hair lower, into his scheming tone. “It'll be like I'm right there, talking you through it.”
You don't have to be told twice. You lean forward to kiss Halsin's forehead, who is continuing to hold the beast at bay, and hope Astarion sees how quickly his request makes your whole being light up. Once secured from a side table, you crack open the headphone case and put one in your ear, the other in Halsin's. You tuck his loose hair behind said ear and pet him lovingly.
“Don't you feel overdressed?” You ask.
Astarion gives you a short courtesy laugh. “A bit. Wasn't aware I'd be walking into such a casual event.” He unfastens a couple of buttons on his criminally well-fitted shirt, but you get nothing else for the time being. “That's better, I suppose. Now— on with the show!”
Halsin rises up on his knees and kisses you, makes you taste yourself on his lips. You pull him in by the hair and pet between his shoulders until he shivers. You smile and peck him one last time on the mouth, then tell him how good it was, that he always does it so right. You whisper that you love him, but it never quite feels like enough because his response is always pure poetry.
“Aww, what a precious pair you two are. Almost makes me wish I were the meat in that sandwich again.”
As Halsin stands and beckons you up from the couch to resituate things, you're caught up thinking of that night. Before this extended business of his across the Atlantic, you'd been flat on your back with these two above you, merely a voyeur to a rather lustful evening they'd been having. Halsin was as rough with him as he'd demanded, all groping and thrusting and teeth, in contrast to your sweetness, your gentle kissing and caressing. You'd held his face in your hands while Halsin bore down on him from behind and told him how beautiful he looks when he wants it this badly. Astarion squirmed against your body, rutting and dripping and moaning in a way that made you insane. You'd begged him to put it in, only for Halsin to drive into him faster and completely send him reeling with pleasure. Astarion bit into your shoulder hard enough to draw blood and whined, went rigid and shaking as your shared metamour hit all the right marks and forced him to practically paint your belly white.
In hindsight, Astarion must have been jealous. He only gets that way — demanding, needy, vulnerable — when he thinks he'll be missing out on something he deserves. For now, however, he seems to enjoy calling the shots. He wouldn't be out of place at all with a wine glass in hand, swirling it thoughtfully like an old king being entertained by his playthings.
Halsin sits beneath you on the sofa and pulls you into his lap so that you're sitting, legs open, facing the little screen with your distant lover waiting expectantly for the final act. You're kind of crushing his cock with your lower back, but he doesn't seem to notice or care; Halsin already has one hand between your legs and, as usual, is so focused on his partner's pleasure he hardly worries about his own.
“Now that is a sight to behold,” Astarion purrs. “You've been at it for a while, haven't you? Poor thing is just red.”
Halsin nuzzles your neck. “Trying not to break her before you've returned, but...” He licks over the spot where Astarion left punctures on your shoulder and grumbles, unable to finish the thought. His fingers just dive inside you and get back to work.
Immediately, your head falls back onto his shoulder and your arms come up around his neck to hold yourself stable. He braces you with a free hand, keeps you held close to his warmth while his fingers move inside you in practiced perfection. You meet that shallow thrusting with the rocking of your hips and lose yourself in it.
"Gods, you look lovely. Both of you," Astarion says. "Those fingers feel divine when you're sore, don't they? In those capable hands... You must feel so safe."
Your hand falls to Halsin's cheek, and he kisses the side of your face. You smile when his cock pulses hard beneath you, but it's hard to focus on anything with his palm pressing repeatedly into your clit, stimulating it just enough to make you try to grind further into his touch. You moan weakly and twitch around him, his body responding in kind once again.
"Ooh, I saw that. She's close, darling. Don't be too kind."
You whine in protest and grab Halsin's wrist. There's a desperation to your movement, like you can't come soon enough. Halsin's edged you once tonight already, made you writhe against his body while buried deep as he could possibly fit, his hips pinning yours to the couch. Made you use him like a toy and chase it down yourself, then touched his sweaty forehead to yours and moaned with you when you finally found it, tightening over and over around him like a vice. Now he's totally in control, could stop at any moment and leave you begging at Astarion's command. You're not sure who he'll be more inclined to listen to.
Astarion sighs in your ear. “I do so delight in your torture sometimes. What do you think, Halsin? Are we too mean? Or do I get to watch you bully your way in?”
A low rumble vibrates against your spine— Halsin's triumphant little chuckle, and all the confirmation you need to know what's coming next. “If I may,” he utters softly into your skin.
He urges you to lower your arms and lean forward, and you peel yourself from him with a played-up pout. He shifts under you, stretches for the side table, and the lid of a familiar container pops open. Your sad eyes meet Astarion's on the screen.
“What a travesty.” He mirrors your pouting. “About to get split like lumber by a man twice your size. I'll make sure our friends know you died heroically.”
"Will you also tell them you sat around and watched while it happened?"
"Oh— with pleasure." He states it like it's obvious, like you should expect nothing less from the likes of him. "And they'll know you had it coming." The tips of his fingers graze his lower abdomen, thumbing the hem of his trousers.
You hear the lid snap closed, and then Halsin's hand is hot, slick between your legs, as if you needed any further assistance in readying yourself for him. One can never be too cautious, though, and as rough and passionate as he's inclined to be, Halsin is nothing if not accommodating.
Astarion stares you down as you're repositioned in your lover's lap. Halsin spreads your legs even wider with his own, giving your audience of one a truly raunchy view of his cock as you struggle to fit it back inside. You wince and exhale heavily. Halsin kisses your shoulderblades, your spine, pets your belly and thighs tenderly as you adjust.
"How are you so—" You stop yourself in time to avoid inflating his ego too much, but Halsin still nips at your flesh with a proud giggle. Whore that he's been, he's all too aware of what it takes to handle it.
Astarion shifts in his seat, tries to be subtle about hiding his growing arousal. “He hurts so deliciously at first, doesn't he? Like your poor, bruised parts couldn't take another inch. But then you start moving and it all melts away . "
Too right. Your cheeks are molten. Between how badly you want to come, how much you want Halsin to be the one to force it out of you, how exposed and utterly compromised you are to Astarion, it's almost too much. But your thoughts are being narrated by an expert in humiliation, and any weakness will be used against you. So you lean forward, hands on Halsin's knees, and rock your hips while staring directly into the lens for Astarion.
There's no getting away with anything when you're under such scrutiny. He's fully dressed and you're laid bare, letting him see your pleasure as though he were right there holding your face in his hands. The desire to touch him, to moan into his mouth and smear his lipstick is maddening. When Halsin's touch creeps back around to your front and wiggles wildly across your sensitive clit, you keen high in the back of your throat and beg him to hold you down so you don't involuntarily shake from the sensation of it all.
Watching Astarion shamelessly adjust the front of his trousers for room is a small victory, but his quiet, "Bravo, darling," nearly sends you spinning. Halsin, too, is relentless, has seemingly stuffed you fuller than you've ever been, and when his hips begin to rock in time with yours, you unravel. He curses as your nails dig into his flesh, holds you tight to his body as you tilt forward and lose yourself to sharp, suffering bliss. You clench around him and he writhes beneath you.
You're given several rapid heartbeats to bask in it before Halsin demands more. Before you've even finished shuddering, your knees are on the floor, top half propped up against the coffee table, with Astarion giggling, "Oh, shit," in one ear and Halsin apologizing in advance for the bruises in the other. He's still firmly rooted inside when he bucks into you fast and hard enough to make the table legs creak, your own legs still shaking with orgasm as you struggle not to wail. You fail, of course.
And gods above, his stamina is something else. You've barely got the wherewithal to keep your head lifted at this point, but Halsin could keep this up all night with the appropriate water breaks in between. You almost surrender to him, but Astarion's eventual labored breathing fills your ear and the need to know wins out. You reach for the phone, now dangerously close to tipping over, and tilt it just in time to catch Astarion after pulling it out and hurriedly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He doesn't look away for a single second as he takes himself in hand and revels in the behavior before him, biting his knuckle and clearly trying not to laugh at what a desperate display is unfolding, all three of you rutting like teenagers. But Halsin is a fucking animal, and he loves it.
You love it, too. It's intense, but you've never had anything like either of them before. Between Halsin's passionate adoration and Astarion's chaotic love, you might get sentimental about just how lucky you got, all things considered— if you weren't so focused currently on holding on for dear life while your giant boyfriend absolutely pummels you.
But you can hear Halsin falling apart. He's breathing ragged, sweating hands slipping on your hips, grunting with the effort. One word might undo him, but he's holding on valiantly. Astarion is similarly lost, literally biting back soft moans as he fucks into his tight fist. You hold back in an attempt to soak up the way they're enjoying you, but Halsin has a way of making your body wickedly sing. It's a pornographic chorus of sounds until, finally, one of them breaks and drags the other tumbling into the abyss with him.
Halsin throbs inside you, snaps your hips onto his lap erratically as he rides it out. You're dizzy and out of breath as you watch Astarion's half-hidden smile melt into sweet relief along with yours while another absurd amount of cum spills over his slim fingers. You all breathe in that moment a while, completely spent and glowing.
You watch a little sideways as Astarion inspects his finger and discovers yet again that he's bitten through to the bone with an exhausted laugh. What a work of art he is, even in this state. He sucks off the mess with a satisfied hum and sighs dreamily, back to his flippant self already.
"And here I was--" He interrupts himself with that airy little giggle, entirely too pleased with himself. "Thinking I'd just call and check in."
Halsin huffs out a short laugh, forehead resting heavily on your shoulder. "Your due diligence is appreciated."
You feel his sweat everywhere, under his touch and in droplets that have pooled in the divets of your back. He pecks at you lazily — always looking for an excuse to kiss, this one — and licks several lines across your skin to taste it.
"Hells, what a mess," Astarion breathes. He spreads his sticky fingers, briefly inspects the damage around his flagging cock, then opts to lick the evidence off of his hand.
You twitch internally at the sight. Halsin groans painfully and swats your behind.
"Not yet. Give me a break, devil."
You can't help a physiological reaction much, though, so you grin for an opportunity to torture him a little. Your mischievous chuckle makes it worse and eventually pushes his softening cock out, along with a sinful mix of fluids that runs out slowly, dripping over your overstimulated clit and onto the floor.
Disgusting. You love it.
--
The next morning, you ache everywhere. But Halsin wakes you with more sweet little utterances, more casual poetry, speaking as though you alone are the reason the sun has risen yet again. He stays with you in bed, hair down and disheveled, far longer than he normally prefers just to dote on you and caress your tender muscles. He jokes with you, teases you in all the right ways to put you in a good mood.
"You're going to miss your nature walk at this rate," you remind him.
He smiles, only slightly disappointed. "Are you shooing me out after all that?"
"Never." You pull his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles. "But I know that if you don't go for that morning run and find a little bird to sing to every now again, you start acting as if this town will drive you mad or worse. And," you add, because he's opened his mouth to protest too soon. "I need a bath. I don't even remember falling asleep last night, and now I just feel..."
"Dirty?" Halsin smirks and kisses your bruised lips, and you take the opportunity to slide your palm over the curve of his ass.
" Very ."
"That's called 'a job well done'."
You pinch the meat of his thigh. His surprised grunt followed by a low giggle makes your heart flutter.
"Did you carry me to bed?"
Halsin leans in for another kiss, softer this time, longer, and mhmm s into your mouth. His loose hair falls over his shoulder and tickles your neck. You swoop it back over his ear, start running your nails along the curve of his jaw, down his throat, across his shoulders. He deepens the kiss into tongues and hair tugging and before you know it, he's saddled between your thighs yet again, ready to tap your core for that syrupy sweetness, drawing passion raw from your veins just to spill it back into you.
When he finally does leave your bed, it's with the promise to return. He never keeps you waiting long.
You round up clothes for the day and idly check your phone before committing to the shower. Two notifications from your lover across the ocean await you, time-stamped from several hours ago. The first is a text that reads, "Forgive me for not waiting." The second--
A video, much longer than he usually sends, with a preview that seems to refuse to load. You're expecting a follow-up to last night, of course, but what you see upon tapping it open is even more salacious than you could have guessed.
Astarion's face fills the screen at first, his lips parted and something devilish hiding behind his eyes. He lounges shirtless against the arm of his sofa and flirts with you wordlessly, pets at his neck and down his chest. Putting on a show. Preening. He winks at you, and then the camera switches to the other view-- one of brown hair and broad shoulders bobbing slowly over his groin.
You hear Astarion sigh hotly and reach for the stranger, revealing a well-kempt beard as he brushes that loose hair out of the way. He pinches the man's cheek lightly.
"Eyes here, Pup."
His guest doesn't seem entirely pleased with that brief interaction but still obeys, glaring somewhat up at the phone. He maintains eye contact for a short time with his mouth full, and even though he's a stranger to you, maybe even to Astarion, you can at least see why he was chosen. He's beautiful in that scholarly way, like every hot professor on the big screen, with the attractive glasses and subtle greying and everything. To say nothing of those big, brown puppy eyes. Damned if the nickname works.
"Go on, sweet boy," Astarion says.
It doesn't take long. Watching his lovers in the act has clearly put Astarion in a prolonged mood, and this lucky bastard happens to not only be the most handsome creature available for his immediate use but also seems fairly adept at it. He picks up the pace, swallows Astarion down with ease, and when Astarion's soft breathing turns to intermittent pleasured hums, his partner gets noticeably red in his cheeks.
“Oh, is that the secret for you?” Astarion purrs victoriously. “You want to make this pretty boy moan? Need to know you're doing well, is that it?”
The man swallows deeper, almost taking him to the hilt several times. Astarion fists a handful of hair at the back of his head and groans. “That's it,” he breathes. “That's it, just let me— yes, gods.”
Astarion thrusts softly up into his mouth, not quite gagging him but certainly towing the line. He's decidedly rougher with this man than he's ever been with you, treats him like the probable one-off fling that he is, but he takes it in stride all the same. Maybe it isn't so disrespectful, though— perhaps this isn't even their first time together. Maybe it's just what he likes.
And then Astarion's hand slips, and you see it— gripped tightly in his fingers isn't just long, shaggy hair but the leather of a collar with a peculiar blue tag that jangles around with their movement. The man's brow knits together as Astarion fucks into him faster and foregoes his grip at the base just to take it as deep as he's able. All you hear is your lover's ragged whimpering over the obscene wet noises coming from this man's throat, and it's obvious that, oh, he definitely wants this. Now you're even more curious what the story is.
Astarion is a wreck as he comes undone, is more vocal and somehow messier than before. He pulls out before it's over and leaves a splattered mess on his belly the way he knows you like, smears it into his skin like a balm. His partner rests his cheek on Astarion's hip as he catches his breath before the camera flicks back to front view, revealing your beautiful, blushing virgin once again.
“Miss you,” he says between breaths. “Love you.” He smiles a bit stupidly and laughs at himself, and then the video ends.
You stand there in your room for a few beats, debating internally if you should get on with that bath now or give it just one more watch. You decide you'll have it both ways and rewatch while you soak— but not before texting Halsin to return soon with a degree of urgency that he couldn't possibly say no to.