Chapter Text
For several more long minutes, Gale felt completely surrounded by the most salacious sounds he could imagine. Close to his ear, the soft moans and sweet noise of Astarion kissing and drinking from the bite on his neck, and further below the deeper noise of Wyll’s hunger and devotion as the warlock relentlessly ate his fill.
Gale was barely aware of the slight addition to the chorus that came from the vampire’s fingers, but he was
very
aware of the effect they were having on him. He felt tension coiling like the Weave of a powerful spell, power thrumming through his body from the Orb to his core, head falling back as he cried out his pleasure to the gods and beyond. Astarion held him close, Wyll’s hands equally squeezing affectionately, anchoring him to everything in the here and now.
Nothing compared to the relentless pleasure, the sweetness of feeling held, the mind-blowing bliss of being so utterly and thoroughly surrounded by two who genuinely wanted
him - HIM,
Gale of Waterd…Gale Dekarios, the wizard who loved a goddess but found love in everything that was real.
Eventually, he regained his breath and realised Astarion was softly kissing where the wounds had been, a little balm melting away the remnants of quiet pain. Lower down, Wyll was simply resting on his thigh, looking for all intents and purposes like a smitten youth. Gale’s fingers found the warlock’s cheek, thumb caressing softly along heated skin, savouring the sweet sigh that fell from slightly parted lips that still glistened with the remnants of his arousal.
“Wyll,” Astarion’s voice was close to Gale’s ear as the vampire addressed their other lover, “come here. Let me taste him, through you.”
The wizard felt his ears grow impossibly hot as Wyll obeyed, rising to his feet and straddling Gale’s lap to reach Astarion’s lips over his shoulder. The sounds of soft kisses turned to muffled moans as they became deeper, more passionate. There was nowhere to go, of course, with both their bodies pressed against his, lust clear from both sides as they sought to get closer.
Gale wasn’t even sure what he should do in the moment, still flush with the aftershocks of bliss spreading warmth throughout his whole being. He decided to wrap his arms around Wyll’s waist, hands caressing the taut muscle and lithe dancer-like form of the younger man, fingertips teasing at the narrow ridges that had formed in the devilish transformation. Moving lower, the wizard followed the line of Wyll’s hip with one hand, curling around to find other ridges that were hot and stiff against his abdomen.
He was rewarded by a deeper moan from Wyll and an approving purr from Astarion, who brought a pale arm around Gale’s chest once more to tease at every sensitive point that those deft fingertips were so good at finding.
“Gods…I never thought the taste of blood-”
“Perhaps we’ll make a vampire of the hunter yet~” Astarion’s grin was clear just from his voice, as Wyll finally moved back enough for Gale to see him once more. “Now, would our darling - and delicious - wizard like more?”
Gale’s lips felt dry as he swallowed. “He - that is to say I - would very much like that.”
“Then lay back, love,” the vampire shifted backwards, guiding him to lay down on the silk sheets, stroking a few hairs from his forehead with a gentle hand. “Wyll was right, you truly are a marvel.”
“I should say the same of you - of both of you,” Gale glanced down to where Wyll remained sat between his knees, patient, waiting, yet flush with arousal.
“Such a silver-tongued devil,” Wyll smiled sweetly, raising an eyebrow as his gaze turned towards Astarion, “perhaps our dear wizard should’ve been a bard?”
“I’m afraid to say I never had a lick of skill with any instrument, much to my poor tutor’s disappointment,” Gale gave a half smile, remembering a time he had tried his hand at several different skills and learning swiftly that books were not always the way to gain prowess.
“Maybe you didn’t find the right instrument,” Astarion grinned, thumb caressing the wizard’s lips, a silent request for them to part, “or the right teacher.”
Gale felt words rise to his tongue, only for them to be silenced by two fingers slipping against it, chasing all words and thoughts away as Wyll’s fingers found another entrance to tease. He moaned against the lingering taste of his sweat and slick against Astarion’s hand as the vampire caressed his tongue, encouraging him to suck, to show what he was capable of.
“That’s it, perfect…” The voice above was hot and heavy, dropping low to a breathy moan a few moments later. “I…
we
…need you, Gale. Are you ready?”
Gale merely nodded, heart racing as the pair either side of him removed what was left of their clothes.
Below him, Wyll knelt between his legs, hands trailing a path up and guiding his knees to raise and part, positioning his already glistening tip at the apex of Gale’s aching need.
Above him, Astarion gently slid a pillow under his shoulders, guiding his head to lean back, finding himself looking directly at the vampire’s length that was equally ready to be devoured.
Gale parted his lips wider, reaching back to find Astarion’s hips, pulling gently to signal his desire.
When they began, Gale was once again encompassed by the heat and sensation all around, feeling ever more grateful that the orb had been subdued because he might just combust without it. The taste of Astarion was almost as intoxicating as the scent the vampire’s skin carried with it, and the way Wyll so achingly slowly began to thrust just a few inches at a time before drawing back pulled a deep and needy moan from his chest.
The warlock had bent low over Gale, pressing kisses around the mark of the Karsite Weave that thrummed and pulsed with power, a feeling only silenced by the pleasure of having two lovers encompassing him completely. He wrapped his legs around Wyll’s hips, fighting the younger man’s strength, desperate to feel more of those ridges and the blissful friction that seemed to hit every single nerve between his legs.
Astarion moaned, pressing pale hips forwards, beginning to match Wyll’s rhythm in a way that drove every thought from Gale’s mind as his throat was filled and stretched. The vampire reached down, taking one of his hands from where both had been holding on to Astarion’s waist to draw him in, instead lacing their fingers together and squeezing his hand softly. “That’s it, darling, gods just like that…” Astarion’s other hand caressed his cheek with cool affection, soothing with praise that lit deeper fires within the wizard’s belly. “You take us so very well…”
Below, Wyll finally thrust all the way, filling Gale to the brim, the depth of the ridges drawing a prolonged groan that vibrated through his tongue. He wanted to praise them both, to tell them how incredible it felt to be with them like this, how nothing that magic had ever offered could compare to the sensations flooding his body.
All he managed, however, was another long and needy whine.
Wyll answered with yet more soft kisses, from his shoulder along his collarbone until he reached his neck, lips pressing to the point that felt like it might surely be bulging slightly from Astarion’s length filling him. The warlock shifted slightly, arms hooking beneath Gale’s knees to lift them higher, allowing a better angle to hit the perfect points that drew ever more keening noises from the wizard who no longer cared who might hear them.
It was…
freeing
in ways he was incapable of explaining - not that giving a lecture on the benefits of being completely and utterly enveloped in pure physical pleasure was on Gale’s mind as it all began to build to the inevitable peak. Astarion’s soft praise was almost enough to drive him over the edge, but having Wyll echo those sentiments was beyond gratifying.
Bliss gripped every nerve in Gale’s body, white hot lust pulling them into a tapestry formed of pure ecstasy, tipping the balance into a climax that tore through him like a tempest. Raw, physical, everything that the Weave wasn’t .
Wyll followed close behind, his thrusts slowing in the aftermath as he drew out every last breath of the aftershocks that rippled through the trio. Astarion was last, pulsing into Gale’s throat as he worked his tongue with care - it simply would not do to not return such exquisite bliss with as much effort as he could muster.
A few minutes later, all 3 lay upon the bed, sweat beading on bare skin, exhausted and entirely satisfied in a tangle of limbs.
“That was…” Gale began, the words faltering again as his lovers squeezed his hands from either side of him.
“It was.” Astarion decided.
Wyll’s voice was almost as quiet, but the smile within his words was audible. “I couldn’t agree more.”
A few more minutes passed, laying close, a comforting silence wrapping around them like a blanket in the night, until the cacophony of Gale’s usual thoughts decided that he had quite enough time to relax already. He tried to still them, of course, to simply let himself rest as the afterglow of pleasure slowly faded to a quiet hum, but it couldn’t last forever. It never did.
“Shouldn’t we, I mean, we were
supposed
to be looking for clues to the disappearance, weren’t we?”
The simple question was met with a brief silence, followed by a wave of laughter that shook the bed beneath them.
“Oh Gale, darling, you don’t
really
think they believed that, did you?” Astarion kissed his forehead before curling up against him, soft white curls making a pillow of his chest.
“Well, Minsc might have fallen for it,” Wyll stifled another chuckle, rolling in closer too, coming to rest just above Gale’s shoulder. The warlock draped his arm over his lovers, effectively trapping Gale beneath the pair. “I’d say we have about 4 more hours before the Ranger gets suspicious and launches a rescue mission, so how about we get some rest for now.”
“Well, I suppose a little nap never did any harm…” Gale could already feel the edge of sleep clouding his mind, curling his arms around both men in a gentle embrace, “but I was rather hoping that we might be up for a second round.”
“5 Gold.” Astarion mumbled against his chest.
“Excuse me?!” Gale almost tried to wriggle free from the pile of limbs, not only from the insinuation that he would have to pay for them to be with him but also the offence of being so cheap.
“No, not you,” the vampire placated him with soft touch and softer words, “Wyll and I had a bet. He didn’t think you would want more after that.”
“One hour,” Gale said firmly.
“One hour?...” Wyll looked up at him, even as the wizard’s eyes were already drifting shut.
“One hour to rest first, then we will see which one of us will have had enough before the legendary hero comes to our ‘rescue’.”