#tamrhyscien

[achaotichuman]

A Proposition

Some people get sentimental about the new year starting, some people have a mental breakdown, some people are recovering from a wicked hangover, and others are mentally preparing to start writing 2025 on dates rather than 2024

I'm writing gay sex and sharing it with the internet. Here you go, internet. Happy New Year to all my fellow whores, I hope your 2025 is not disastrous and full of good things, here's what I hope will be one of said good things.

Summary:

The High Lords meeting is being held in the Night Court, and Lucien is bored out of his brains, but when he realises the Heirs of Night and Spring have slipped off, what would have once been a very boring day suddenly becomes the opportunity for something he'd never even thought of.

Fic below the cut or here on Ao3!

The Night Court wasn’t his favourite territory to visit, but it wasn’t the worst. Lucien had freezed his ass off in Winter, and whilst the Night Court had a bite to it, being in the Hewn City meant that there was temperature regulation in most rooms. 

Eris had scolded the six of them the night before this visit, had lined his younger brothers up like soldiers and given them the talking too of a lifetime.

“Don’t screw around. Don’t run off with any dalliances. Don’t provoke anyone. Don’t get into fights with each other. Toe the line.” 

The Heir had talked himself hoarse, it was a miracle he had a voice to use today. 

Of course, the warnings weren’t really aimed at Lucien, but all the behaviours Eris told them not to partake in were regular patterns amongst the Vanserras. Lucien couldn’t say he wasn’t guilty of jabbing Silas too much, or purposefully pushing Brom to the brink of insanity, at times.

Any other Courtly visit and Lucien may have wandered off on his own, ignoring Eris’ warnings in favour of his own curiosity. However, when they passed through the stone doors of the Hewn City. When they had sealed shut behind them, trapping them all in the dark depths of a mountain renowned for cruelty, Lucien had decided to stick close to his brothers. 

There had been a formal introduction, followed by the usual custom of mingling and small talk, as music played in the throne room, and people with stiff backs danced with their respective partners. Everyone on edge, as if waiting for a bear trap to snap closed. It had successfully killed any fear Lucien had, replacing it with tearful boredom as he resigned to dancing with a Lady named Mirassa, she had smiled and giggled and entertained him for some time. They danced for the majority of the night, until the merriments ended, and the High Lords were called to the meeting. Lucien left, and Mirassa’s disappointment had trailed after him long after he left the dancing. 

The meeting itself was a near disaster, with Beron and the High Lord of Spring, Elvin going at each other like cats and dogs. 

Elvin scared the shit out of Lucien, and not just because of his famously cruel nature. He looked like something fresh out of a nightmare. Handsome, yes. With long dark gold hair that appeared a light chestnut colour in the dark, and like gleaming yellow gold in the sunlight. Gold-speckled dark eyes, tall and well-built. Yes, he was handsome but…

The way he looked at people, like he could skin them with his gaze, dig his hands into exposed flesh, examine the bone. He was like a creature that took Fae form to deceive. Only here because of how intrigued he was by people and their strange forms. 

Beron and Elvin had been at it a long time, before even Eris was born. So, Lucien wasn’t surprised when they made the whole evening about their petty grievances. He sat in the seventh chair, at the back, in the corner, away from everybody. 

But it wasn’t long into the meeting that Lucien noticed two missing presences. 

The daughter of the High Lord of Night sat beside her father and mother, hands folded in her lap, despite how bored she looked. But there was something missing…

Rhysand. 

How had Lucien not noticed? It was like he was a thread pulled away from a piece of cloth, unnoticed, not missed. 

Lucien blinked rapidly, the feeling of their being something off persisting. It was then that he looked towards Elvin. 

His wife, Dahlia sat next to him, raising an eyebrow as she watched her husband bicker with Lucien’s father. She seemed somewhat amused, snagging glances at the Lady of Night, who fought to keep a smile off her lips at every glance from Dahlia. Lucien thought to note that for later. 

But there was something else… Baile, the eldest of Spring, and Aletris, the second-eldest sat beside their mother. Baile looked at though he had more than enough, and Aletris twitched every so often. 

Tamlin. The thought hit Lucien in the chest. Where was Tamlin? 

A knot formed in Lucien’s chest, it was not like the Tamlin to miss a meeting like this, his father would have his head. He was usually extremely punctual, heeding to the tight schedule his father demanded, bending in impossible ways to fit the expectations of others. 

But Rhysand… Rhysand did as he pleased. 

Lucien clenched his fists until the knuckles turned white. 

Tamlin befriended Rhysand almost a year ago now. Found him in the War Camps. Sounded about right, of course the spoiled brat of Night would find amusement in watching those beneath him train. But for whatever reason that Lucien wouldn’t understand, Tamlin had seen something in him and decided to get closer. Now, the two were practically attached at the hip. Every single time he and Tamlin saw each other, it was just, Rhysand this, Rhysand that. ‘Oh, Lucien, look what Rhysand showed me.’ ‘Oh, Lucien, Rhysand taught me how to do this.’ ‘Lucien, Rhysand took me to this place.’ ‘Rhysand, Rhysand, Rhysand, Rhysand’ It never ended. 

He was not jealous. He was not in the slightest. Tamlin had trouble making friends and Lucien was glad he had found someone else to have fun with. After all, because of their fathers, Lucien and Tamlin often didn’t see each other. Though Rhysand's father and Tamlin’s father didn’t like each other in the absolute slightest either, Rhysand was in the War Camps, which meant they were with each other from when the sun rose, to when it set. 

Of course, they would be friends. It didn’t mean Lucien had to like him. Or approve of him. 

Rhysand was bad news. Rhysand was cruel. He was unpredictable. He liked playing with people until he pushed them to the very edge, he drove them insane. He was spoiled, and reckless, and frustrating. 

And worst of all, Rhysand was a snarky, arrogant, handsome, cocky male. He was vile in every sense of the word and he knew it. He was a slow-acting poison, and Lucien was forced to just watch Tamlin drink him down. 

God, where were they? If Tamlin ended up with yet another bruise, broken bone, or scar from his father’s punishments because Rhysand made him late, or worse, convinced him to skip the meeting. Lucien would set him on fire. 

“Will you now?” A voice like cool silk floated down into his head. 

Lucien nearly jolted in his seat, but managed to catch himself. 

“Where is Tamlin?” Lucien addressed the Heir of Night. 

“With me.” Rhysand seemed to laugh, clearly amused at Lucien’s growing anger. 

“Figured. Where are you?” 

“Come find out, fox boy.” Rhysand taunted. 

Lucien blinked. 

“What?”

“They won’t notice, they’re under a minor enchantment. They won’t even notice you getting up and walking out.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Do you want to know where Tamlin is?” 

Lucien took in a sharp breath. Yes, he did want to know where Tamlin was, and he wanted to get Rhysand far away from him. He wanted to pull him away from the Night Court entirely, and convince him to stop fucking drifting away from him. Godfuckingdamnit, Tamlin was his friend. Not Rhysand’s. Not anyone else's. His, fucking his, all his. 

Laughter, bright and full, once again bubbled in Lucien, not his own though. It came from Rhysand, speaking to him from wherever he was. It shocked Lucien back to reality. 

What the hell was he thinking?

“What the hell are you thinking?” Rhysand purred. 

“Get out of my head.”

“Come find me and make me.” Lucien didn’t know how, but he knew Rhysand was smirking. 

Fuck. 

Gently, Lucien eased out of his seat. Watching the faces of his brothers. Of the other Lords. As he came to his feet, not even Eris glanced his way. 

Quietly, he slipped away, to the door, resting his fingers on the doorknob, he glanced at Eris once more, and his empty seat. Sure enough, none of them noticed as he left the meeting. 

“Where are you?” Lucien muttered. 

“Go towards the higher rooms.” 

The higher rooms, the ones that were reserved for the High Lords. Bathed in purple luxury, and gilded with gold, they were specially made. 

Lucien swallowed hard. 

“What are you doing to him?” Lucien found himself asking Rhysand. Feeling sharp anger stabbing his core, he let all of his rage pour out into the entity invading his mind. 

“Oh you wanna spy on him now?” Rhysand mocked, “I’ll do you one better. Do you want to hear what’s happening to him? Then I’ll let you guess what I’m doing.”

Shit, shit, shit. Lucien didn’t know what he was thinking anymore, as he picked up his pace, going up the spiralling stairs, feeling a tug that grew stronger with every step. 

“Well, Lucie?” Rhysand demanded for his answer. 

Fucking Hell. 

“Fine.” 

There was a pleased hum from Rhysand that vibrated through his entire being, against every good sense, he shivered. 

Then another voice came into his head. Lucien nearly tripped, as his heart started beating out his chest, heat flooding his face making a pink flush spread from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck.

“Please. Oh, please, Rhys. Pleas- Fuck.” The words were breathless, interlaced with gasps and low whines. 

The connection quickly cut off, and Rhysand returned saying, “Is he still only yours now, Lucie?”

“You vile piece of worthless shit-” Lucien mouthed the words out loud, unable to contain the rage stoking higher and higher, as a pressure settled low in his gut. 

“Such language…” 

“Where. Are. You?”

“Why do you want to know, Lucien?”

Those words made Lucien stop in his tracks, staring at how far he’d come. The solid stone walls, the spiralling staircase behind him, the hallway stretched out in front of him. 

“You know what they say, Lucie.” Rhysand murmured, “Two is better than one.”

“I don’t know what fucking game you’re playing, Rhysand. But quit it.” 

“I’ll spell this out for you, Vanserra.” Rhysand said, “You can go back to that meeting, stay there bored out of your brains while you imagine what I’m doing to your beloved- No, don’t try to deny it. We both know you will. Or you can come find us.”

Lucien felt his whole body shake. 

“What’s it going to be?”

Fuck…

He didn’t even have to think about it. What did that mean for him? That he so easily gave in to this invitation? 

“Where are you?”

Lucien could practically feel Rhysand’s grin. 

They were in one of the highest rooms. The large door was heavy, locked. But as Lucien reached to touch it, he heard a click from the inside. The invitation was there. 

He couldn’t hear anything from outside, his blood pounding in his ears as he tried to imagine what could be happening. What they could be doing. What he was going to walk in on. 

“Fuck.” Lucien whispered, but he couldn’t stop his hand. He pushed the door open. 

He didn’t know what to imagine when he walked in- No, scratch that. He knew exactly what he was imagining, it was just nothing could compare to the real thing. 

The room itself was one of the smallest, it had to be the one made up specifically for Tamlin. Whenever a High lord visited, the chambers he was given to reside in were customised according to the Lord’s needs and preferences, the same was done for all whom accompanied him. But Lucien and Tamlin being the youngest, both got the scraps compared to what their superiors were given. 

But still the bed was large, in the centre of the room, it was decorated with dark, emerald green silk, and when Tamlin first came here, it was no doubt made up perfectly. 

It wasn’t perfect right now. 

But in Lucien’s head in that moment, it was better than perfect, because Tamlin was twisted up in the sheets. Sweat-slicked skin gleaming, back arched, his hair an absolute mess, face scrunched up in pleasure all the while, Rhysand was bent overtop him, his slender fingers fisting the back of Tamlin’s head, shoving his face into the mattress. They laid facing the door. 

Lucien’s breathing picked up, and heat shot straight down into his belly, as he shoved himself back up against the door, slamming it closed. 

The sudden noise alerted Tamlin to someone entering, Lucien could see the moment, those hazy green eyes snapped from his own cloud of pleasure, panic filling them as he quickly looked up. 

But that panic subsided as it gave way to disbelief when he locked eyes with Lucien. 

“Lucien,” Tamlin breathed out, Rhysand still over top him, pressing him down in the mattress. 

“Seems like the little fox has come to play, my love.” Rhysand murmured. 

Tamlin craned his neck back to stare at Rhysand confused, “What-” He shook his head, quickly grabbing the sheets tangled around them to try and protect his decency. 

But Rhysand’s strong grip held Tamlin firmly against him, “I mean it my love.”

“What?” Tamlin repeated a little firmer this time as he looked back at Lucien, his eyes still a little unfocused, no doubt trying to stay grounded, even as Rhysand’s naked form was pressed against him. 

“I should leave.” Lucien said, making no move to leave. 

Rhysand smiled so cruelly at him. Tamlin was breathing hard, his cheeks and ears scarlet red, his hands fisted in the sheets. His hair was an absolute mess, he was an absolute mess, and Lucien’s heart was beating faster. 

“You can leave.” Rhysand said, that smile refusing to leave his face. Lucien had the sudden urge to slap it off him. With his hand of course. Even though his eyes kept darting to his lips, “Or…”

“What are you doing, Rhys?” Tamlin hissed, shooting an apologetic look to Lucien, his eyes filled with embarrassment, Lucien wanted to cradle him close and present him with Rhysand’s filleted body on a silver platter. 

“Oh me and Lucien have been chatting.”

Tamlin’s face dropped, all at once, anger swallowed that fucked out look on his face as he purposefully shoved Rhysand back, but the older male still kept him down, “You’ve been mind-speaking to him! While we’ve been-”

“I should leave.” Lucien said again, this time his hand reaching for the handle behind him. 

“Before you run off and before he bites my dick off.” Rhysand spoke in a drawled, lazy manner. Looking at Tamlin struggling against him disinterested, “I have a proposition.”

“What are you trying to do?” Tamlin demanded to know. 

“Don’t try and tell me you wouldn’t have him sit in that chair and watch you if you could. I hear your thoughts, darling.” Rhysand replied, his eyes going towards Lucien at the end. 

“Rhysand!” Tamlin shouted, actually managing to shove him off this time. Rhysand took the push gracefully. Leaning back onto his heels, unlike Tamlin, who scrambled to grab a sheet to cover himself, Rhysand was perfectly content to let Lucien see every part of him. 

Lucien froze. 

Locked in a space between what his relationships with these two had been before and what it might end up being, he stared at Rhysand, then his eyes drifted to Tamlin. Lucien slowly cocked his head to the side. 

“You fantasise about me?” He asked, Lucien was surprised by how breathless his voice sounded. 

Tamlin’s face somehow got redder, and he glared at Rhysand.

But he didn’t deny it. 

“Now, back to my proposition.” Rhysand declared. 

Tamlin loosened a growl, but the Heir of Night simply waved him off. 

“Little Lucien made the trip all the way up here just to find you, darling. It would be rude to send him off so quickly.”

“Spit it out, Rhysand.” Tamlin growled. 

Rhysand rolled his eyes, then he looked towards Lucien, “I’ll be more direct then. I want to fuck you both.”

The room got infinitely hotter, though it wasn’t as if Lucien hadn’t been considering this. He’d practically agreed to it when he spoke to Rhysand through his mind. When he’d heard the way Rhysand had been making Tamlin sing out. 

Fuck. 

But Tamlin looked at him as though he’d threatened to light the whole of Prythian on fire. His mouth opened and he looked towards Lucien like he might apologise, but his words were stolen when he watched what Lucien did. 

With a cunning, graceful slowness, Lucien slid his jacket off as he stepped closer to the bed, “I wouldn’t be… opposed.” He breathed out. 

Rhysand’s eyes scoured him, raking over every inch of his body like he was a piece of art to be studied, understood. Lucien didn’t miss the way his mouth opened slightly, his blue eyes seeming to deepen in colour. 

Tamlin couldn’t seem to land on an emotion to feel, his face not hiding a single one as they flew through him, but underneath it all, Lucien could smell his arousal, could see the hardness he attempted to hide with the sheet. 

Images ran through Lucien’s head, what his friend’s cock looked like, what it’d feel like in his mouth, what his seed would taste like. Flicking his eyes to Tamlin’s lips, Lucien wondered if he was thinking something similar about him. 

“Only if Tam wants it.” Lucien added, not daring to look him in the eyes, instead his gaze roamed over his throat, the bruises there that were already starting to heal, all no doubt left by Rhysand…

The want to mark that milky, freckled skin with his own mouth was nearly startling. 

“Well, darling?” Rhysand asked, crawling across the sheets to grab at Tamlin’s waist pressing kisses to his skin that made him shiver, “What do you say?”

Tamlin’s breathing turned shallow, as he looked back up at Lucien who was no close enough to be nearly towering over him. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. 

“I would have left if I wasn’t.” Lucien assured. 

Rhysand cocked his head as if to say, “Well?”

Tamlin looked between the two of them, then his eyes drifted back up to Lucien’s. His voice was practically a whine as he said, “Please.”

That was all it took for Lucien’s restraint to snap.

He shoved one knee into the mattress as he leaned forward to capture Tamlin’s mouth in his own. Tamlin moaned as their lips met, opening up to let Lucien deepen the kiss. The fire Lord wanted to drag it out, he wanted to start slow, but he felt Rhysand sliding up beside him, dragging his tongue across Tamlin’s nipple, Tamlin’s hand fisting in Rhysand’s hair as Rhys started biting and sucking. The loud moan that was torn from Tamlin’s throat, was enough to make Lucien quicken the pace. 

Lucien grabbed a fistful of Tamlin’s hair, the blond loose curls soft and wet with sweat between his fingers. Tamlin’s other hand flew to his shirt, trying desperately to undo it. A claw slid out of his knuckle, and Lucien broke the kiss to lean back and undo it himself. Trying to preserve what clothing he had brought with him. 

Rhysand laughed lowly, and Tamlin’s head tipped back, eyes once again bright with bliss and pleasure. 

The Night Lord looked up briefly, locking eyes with Lucien, and understanding hit him all at once. 

This was about Tamlin. 

The blond had been stressed out of his mind as of late. In the few times Lucien had managed to be able to see him he hadn’t been sleeping or eating properly. Sometimes Lucien had to force him to lie down or eat even a little bit of a meal. Neither of them really knew what was going on, but for a little while now, Tamlin had been going to Hybern with his father more and more often, and every time he came back from those trips he looked worse and worse and worse. 

Tonight was about Tamlin. It was about bringing him as much pleasure, as much happiness, as possible. Gods, the man sometimes just thought too much. 

But how could he possibly think, if he was being fucked out of his mind?

Lucien quickly threw his shirt to the ground and crashed his mouth against Tamlin’s again as he fiddled with getting his trousers off. He was never wearing this many layers again. Not if they slowed him down from being able to finally fuck the male he’d been dreaming about. 

When Lucien finally was able to pull his trousers down and let them join the rest of the clothing scattered across the floor, Rhysand settled behind Tamlin, his hands going up and down smooth, toned thighs, while Lucien rested in front of Tamlin, their knees touching, his decency still hidden by the thin green silk sheet. 

“How do you want it, darling?” Rhysand murmured, his voice soft like silk as his lips trailed the line of Tamlin’s neck, Lucien watched, transfixed. His hands moved on their own, wanting to touch, to hold, to bite, bruise and suck. 

“I want…” Tamlin was breathless, his eyes falling closed as his head tilted back, practically begging for that soft spot between his throat and shoulder to be bitten. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Rhysand laughed, then he hummed, as his fingers buried themselves into Tamlin’s hair, “How about you make Lucien feel welcome, hm?”

The breath was stolen from Lucien’s lungs, as his cock twitched with interest, Tamlin’s eyes flicked down to it, his hand flexing slightly. 

Rhysand moved back, slipping off the edge of the bed, and then all of Lucien’s attention was on Tamlin. 

“Can I?” Tamlin asked, as he moved to kneel. Lucien felt his face go hot, as he opened his legs on instinct. 

“You may.” Lucien said, he watched as Tamlin grabbed the base of his cock, stroking slowly. A breath whimper left him, he was helpless to stop it, especially as those pink, plush lips ghosted over the tip of his dick. 

It was breath-taking. Tamlin, looking so utterly fucked, with his hair a mess, his skin a mess, his eyes staring up at Lucien, searching for approval, for his approval. Lucien’s cock started leaking as Tamlin’s tongue dragged along his shaft. 

The blond wrapped his lips around him, sucking on the tip hard, before starting to work his way down, stroking what he could reach. Lucien moaned and bucked his hips, feeling like he was being unraveled, he forced his cock deeper down Tamlin’s throat, grabbing at his long hair with one hand. 

“Fuck, Tam,” Lucien moaned, “You feel so good. Such a pretty mouth.”

The moan that left Tamlin, vibrated along Lucien, and he couldn’t stop the way his hips moved, making Tamlin gag on his cock. The sensation was quickly pushing him towards the edge. 

In all of this, Lucien hadn’t been watching what Rhysand was doing. He didn’t even know where he was until he saw him return from somewhere in the shadows, holding a bottle of what looked to be oil. 

Rhysand watched as Tamlin worked Lucien with his throat, spit and precum dribbling down his chin as he sucked and stroked.

He was getting closer, his body was burning, everything was so hot. He felt so good. He looked so good. He was fucking perfect. Tamlin’s wet, hot mouth was bringing him so close to the edge, just a little bit more. Lucien’s moans grew louder and higher, his fingers curling tighter in Tamlin’s hair. 

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum. Tam, fuck-” 

Lucien just about nearly screamed when Tamlin was roughly yanked off his cock. Rhysand tutted as he kept Tamlin’s hair fisted in his hand, Tamlin’s neck bent back at an uncomfortable angle. 

“Not so fast, little fox, we still have so much to do.” Rhysand grinned, his smile only widening at the tears pooling in Lucien’s eyes from the stimulation, and the aching in his cock. 

Rhysand then leaned down and asked Tamlin, “Think you can take us both, darling?”

“Yes,” Tamlin all but moaned as Rhysand let go of his hair, his face falling into the mattress. Suddenly, that fire in Lucien’s core burned twice as hot, the heat threatening to consume him entirely. He and Rhysand locked eyes and that cheshire grin was suddenly on Lucien’s face as well. 

Being shoved back against the headboard, as Rhysand manhandled Tamlin over both their weeping cocks was not where Lucien thought he’d be today, but he wasn’t about to argue, especially not as he watched Tamlin’s face, sweat collecting on his brow, clutching his shoulders as Rhysand’s oil slick fingers stretched him out. Tamlin moaned, his head dropping into the crook of Lucien’s finger as Rhysand purposefully propped that sweet spot inside him. The Heir of Spring rocked back against his fingers, oil slicked up the insides of his thighs, his hips kept thrusting into the air, his legs trembling and Lucien needed to be inside him. 

“Are you alright, darlin-” Rhysand tried to ask, but Tamlin cut him off by taking Lucien’s cock in his hand, lining himself up and sinking down. 

Both males moaned as the head of Lucien’s cock stretched Tamlin’s wet, hot whole. Lucien’s fingers flew to his hips, digging into the flesh, digging red marks into the skin. All coherent thoughts went out the window as unbearable warmth shot like poison through his body. He wanted to cum so badly, his depraved imagination wanted to shove Tamlin down into the bed and watch as his cock sunk in and out of his hole, he wanted to fuck Tamlin until he was crying out his name, until he couldn’t think of anything outside of Lucien, and how fucking good he felt. 

Then Lucien’s attention was drawn to Rhysand, and how his hands had travelled to Lucien’s thighs, digging in there. Lucien’s eyes found Rhysand’s, and the Night Lord grinned that stupid fucking grin. That smile like he knew everything going through his head. 

Lucien’s mouth fell open as he remembered, Rhysand did know everything going through his head. 

“Our little fox wants to ruin you, lovely.” Rhysand whispered in Tamlin’s ear. Tamlin blinked his eyes open, staring into Lucien’s with that soft gaze that only Tamlin could give to him. Lucien bathed in it, he felt Rhysand’s hands roaming him, watching him, listening. 

He felt more seen than he had in his entire life. 

Tamlin’s hands tightened on Lucien’s shoulders as his eyes squeezed shut, moans, whimpers and high-pitched whines falling from his mouth as Rhysand pushed the head of his cock inside of him, his hole stretching to accommodate them both. Lucien looked down and watched as Tamlin took both of them, slowly adjusting to the intense sensation. 

All three of them were panting, little whines and moans escaping as Tamlin finally sunk down to the root. Lucien held so tightly onto him, trying his best not to lose his control entirely and just fuck without restraint. 

Tamlin crashed their lips together, kissing him hard, Lucien’s mouth opened, and Tamlin slid him his tongue. They both grabbed at each other, feeling more like wild animals than anything else. 

“You ready, darling?” Rhysand asked as his hands left Lucien’s thighs to grab hold of Tamlin. 

“Fuck. Me.” Tamlin ordered. 

And the two were happy to obey. 

Tamlin bounced up and down, his head falling back, leaving his neck exposed to Lucien’s bruising lips as the two of them fucked into him, not in sync but going hard and fast. Tamlin quickly got lost, Lucien manoeuvred himself to hit at a deeper angle, and Tamlin nearly cried when he started abusing that bundle of nerves deep within him with his cock. 

“I’m so close.” Tamlin cried, “I’m so close!”

Lucien was relishing in this, as his eyes rolled back, sweat dripped down his neck, his hair which had been brushed and styled to perfection was a mess, his clothes were somewhere on the floor, and he’d never felt so fucking good. Everything was good. Especially watching Tamlin ride both their dicks like he was made for it. 

One of Tamlin’s hands left its place on Lucien’s shoulder, grabbing the wooden headboard, scratching echoed through the room as Tamlin’s claws jutted out. And seeing that powerful display, seeing this male, so far above him in terms of just how much strength he wielded. Falling apart, impaled on dick, barely able to control himself, was what finally snapped all Lucien’s last remaining threads of self control. 

Lucien dug his heels into the mattress, digging his fingers so hard into Tamlin’s hips, bruises bloomed underneath them. He fucked up, harder and faster, hitting Tamlin’s prostate with every thrust. Rhysand leaned over and grabbed the headboard, seemingly feeling the exact same way, as they both abused Tamlin’s hole. The blond’s legs nearly gave out underneath him, but Lucien kept his grip strong. Just a little bit, just a bit more.

Tears filled Tamlin’s eyes as a scream was ripped from his throat, white cum shooting out over his stomach and Lucien’s chest. The other two weren’t far behind him, and just a few thrusts later, white heat shot through Lucien, his orgasm hitting him violently. His body twitching and shaking as he came inside Tamlin. 

Rhysand came, his teeth digging into Tamlin’s shoulder as he did. Then the three collapsed atop each other. Or… more just atop Lucien. 

After a few minutes were spent trying to catch their breath as their bodies refused to come down from the high, they finally found enough energy to get underneath the blankets. 

As clarity came back to him, Lucien blinked his eyes open to see the white ceiling above him, and a sinking feeling came to him, as he thought Tamlin and Rhysand might kick him out. Might say he had to go back. 

But, instead, he was cocooned in warmth, as Tamlin slung an around over his chest cuddling into his side, Rhysand curled around his side, his lips pressed gently against Lucien’s neck. 

“How was that?” Rhysand asked. 

“It was so good.” Tamlin answered in a breathless voice. The praise sent a pleasant warm tingling all over Lucien’s body. 

“Next time, you should show Luce your wings, he’d have a field day.” Tamlin commented. 

Lucien blinked, confused, he turned to Rhysand who was half-heartedly glaring at Tamlin. 

“You have wings?” 

“I am half-Illyrian, I inherited the wings… High Fae tend to be off put by them.”

“I wouldn’t be.” Lucien answered, sincerity lacing every word. 

Rhysand seemed unconvinced, but Tamlin reached over, lazily twirling a black hair strand around his finger, and Rhysand’s expression softened.

“Maybe next time. If you want a next time that is?” That grin returned as Rhysand traced circles on Lucien’s chest, the redheads breathing askew once more. 

“Maybe.” Lucien offered, normally this was where he’d quip something smart. But he fucked out of it. Having both these males so close to him, still covered in their shared fluids, still feeling that lingering warmth and tingling of pleasure. He couldn’t think if he tried. 

“I want a bath.” Lucien said. 

“Same,” Tamlin agreed. 

“Demanding, both of you.” Rhysand said deadpan, still getting up to go run the bath. 

Once he disappeared, Tamlin took in a breath and whispered, “So…?”

Lucien sighed, turning towards his lover, he said, “He’s not so bad.”

Tamlin smiled so beautifully, and Lucien kissed him. 

As they separated, Lucien heard footsteps, and looked up to seeing Rhysand looking down at him with an unreadable expression. He turned his head slightly away, “The bath’s ready.”

Lucien smiled, he sat up and tilted Rhysand’s face towards him, and kissed him too.