Guest Starring | Sylvain+CaspAshe [Fire Emblem: Three Houses]
Ashe invites Sylvain to his bedroom with the condition that Sylvain absolutely spoil Caspar. Sylvain more than delivers.
My very good friend Sparrow and I collaborated on this... we just horny-brained back and forth until I couldn't stop myself from writing this, and voila! Wholesome loving boyfriends and the dom Sylvain of my dreams.
I love CaspAshe. Don't ever let anyone ever tell you they aren't perfect.
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“Sylvain… I have a proposition for you.”
The moment he heard those words fall from Ashe’s lips, Sylvain should have known what he was getting himself into. But he hadn’t known, because he knew Ashe – or he thought he did – and so it had never occurred to Sylvain that Ashe could mean anything less than innocuous.
And so, seeing an opportunity to both tease his friend and do him a favour, Sylvain had looked up from the book he had been reading, eyes hooded and ever-present smile fixed in place. “For you?” he’d said, tone low and smooth. “Anything.”
And that had been how he’d ended up here, in Caspar and Ashe’s shared bedroom, watching from the desk chair as they make out on the bed.
Sylvain leans back, chin resting on one hand as the other lazily strokes his cock. Caspar groans and squirms beneath Ashe, his face flushed a beautiful shade of pink as he’s worked open by deft, nimble fingers.
“Ashe, please...” Caspar whines. “I’m ready, I’m ready, just…”
“Patience, love,” Ashe murmurs against his neck. “I know you want it, but you’ll just have to wait a little bit longer.”
Caspar keens – a desperate, pathetic little noise that makes Sylvain shiver with want. He squeezes his cock and runs a thumb over the tip, surprised to find he’s already wet with precum.
Ashe kisses Caspar’s jaw, just below his ear, and the cry he makes sends electricity all through Sylvain. He focuses on the way Caspar’s cock twitches and jumps with every crook and curl of Ashe’s fingers and wonders how he’s managed to hold on this long when he’s already so close to the edge.
“I think he’s had enough,” Sylvain says. Ashe turns his head and gives Sylvain a knowing smile - you’re not as patient as you seem, are you? - while Caspar’s eyes flutter open as if he’s waking from a dream.
Ashe withdraws his fingers slowly and cleans them on a towel he’d prepared beforehand. He nods to Sylvain, who returns the gesture with one of his own. He stands.
“Caspar.”
As he rises from his chair, both sets of eyes on the bed follow the motion hungrily. Sylvain swears he hears Ashe take a sharp breath, and tiny as the noise is, it sends a fiery thrill right to the pit of his stomach.
He tilts his head to the side in a gesture - a command - for Caspar to move, and smiles, all teeth and temptation and warm, insidious promise. “Up against the wall.”
Caspar scrambles to his feet obediently but unsteadily, guided by Ashe’s hand at his back. Sylvain watches him with a stern, appraising eye as he walks past, smirking when Caspar surreptitiously looks at his feet after the brief, split-second of eye contact he makes.
Good.
Caspar presses himself against the wall, back to it. Sylvain follows, crowding him with one hand planted flat against it. They’re already close enough Sylvian can feel the heat radiating off of Caspar, but still he leans in further. Despite Caspar’s growth spurt, Sylvain is still taller, and part of him delights in the way the shadow he casts makes Caspar’s hands tremble nervously, as if he’s some kind prey animal. Caspar the rabbit, Sylvain the fox.
Caspar’s looks away from Sylvain, eyes darting from his and presumably toward Ashe’s. Sylvain doesn’t need to see Ashe to know he’s just nodded his assent – granted his permission – to his boyfriend. The two of them are in perfect sync, as always, even with Sylvain there to throw off their usual rhythm.
Well. He’ll just have to see about that.
Sylvain takes Caspar’s jaw in his free hand, turning his face so those shimmering blue eyes are focused completely on him. He strokes his thumb over the bump of Caspar’s chin and feels just the slightest hint of stubble, either freshly-shaven or just about to grow in. It doesn’t matter, really; Sylvain is much more interested in what lies above it, and so he leans in far enough to close the gap between them and press a gentle but insistent kiss to Caspar’s lips.
Sylvain sighs into it. Caspar groans, and he takes that as a chance to deepen the kiss, prying Caspar’s lips open with his own until he can slip his tongue past them. He feels Caspar go pliant and boneless beneath him, and Sylvain grins against his teeth. When he pulls away, all too happy to tease, Caspar follows without thinking, mouth helplessly seeking contact.
Sylvain lets out a breath, long and steady, and lets his hand fall from Caspar’s face to trace a line down his neck and chest with the backs of his fingers. Caspar shivers in their wake, eyes fluttering closed once more. Shallow breaths fall from his lips, and Sylvain almost leans in to capture them again, but he holds back and instead decides to help himself to a handful of Caspar’s chest. He almost moans, but he bites his lip to hold it back. Caspar’s skin is soft, but the muscle beneath is firm and strong, just as Sylvain had spent these last long nights imagining.
He runs a thumb over Caspar’s nipple and earns a full-body shudder in response. Sylvain decides he likes that, and so he does it again, and again.
“Mm. Wasn’t expecting you to be so sensitive,” he says.
Sylvain steps back, leaving Caspar with only the wall for support. He leans heavily against it, knees weak and chest heaving. He opens his eyes, stares at Sylvain through his lashes, and grits his teeth. His face is red, flushed with embarrassment or arousal or maybe a little bit of both. Sylvain decides he likes that, too.
He lifts a hand and twirls a finger, smiling perniciously. “Turn around.”
Caspar hesitates, but after a glance at Ashe – whose heavy, laboured breaths Sylvain can hear behind him – he complies and does as he’s told, placing his hands against the wall and turning to face it. He watches over his shoulder as Sylvain approaches him once again.
“Fuck, Caspar,” Sylvain breathes. He skims the dips and valleys between Caspar’s muscles with a fingernail, down his spine and back up again, pausing only when he reaches the space between Caspar’s shoulder blades. With a small hum, lays his palm there and applies just the slightest bit of pressure, just enough to coax Caspar into bending over further and further, until his body is poised at nearly ninety degrees.
And then Sylvain’s hand travels lower, resting on the curve of Caspar’s ass. His smile grows as he claps his hand down firmly, squeezing and massaging the firm, taut muscle.
Caspar whines and shifts his weight from foot to foot. It almost looks like he’s wiggling his hips, silently pleading for Sylvain to just give him what he wants already, but Sylvain knows better than to just give it to him that easily. He was told specifically to spoil Caspar, and he has every intention of doing so. He just has to be--
“Patient.” Sylvain spreads Caspar’s cheeks. He takes a moment to admire him, to appreciate Ashe’s handiwork. Caspar is very nearly gaping, and they haven’t even started yet.
He traces a thumb over the rim, and Caspar lets out another desperate keen. Sylvain dips the tip inside, and there’s hardly any resistance at all.
“Goddess,” he breathes. “Ashe did a good job with you.”
He turns his head to look at Ashe, and the sight that greets him is nothing short of breathtaking.
Of the three of them, Ashe had been the only one to keep his clothes on while Caspar was prepared. That’s no longer the case: now he wears nothing but his hooded sweater, pushed up far enough to reveal his toned stomach and a trail of silver hair leading down to his leaking cock. His pants have long since been discarded in a heap on the floor, and his bare legs are spread wide, giving Sylvain a full view of Ashe stroking himself as he watches someone else manhandle his boyfriend. And it’s -- Ashe is --
Sylvain swallows. He wouldn’t mind getting a taste of that once he’s finished with Caspar.
He forces himself out of that line of thought before he can get too carried away with it. Maybe he’ll bring it up later, but for now, he takes hold of his own cock in one hand and keeps Caspar spread open with the other.
“You watching, Ashe?” Sylvain asks. Ashe’s eyes blink open. They go wide for a moment, then narrow once again as his lips quirk up in a smile Sylvain won’t soon forget.
“Good.”
He reaches for a jar of oil on the desk, dips his fingers in, and slicks himself up. Sylvain meets Caspar’s eye looking back at him over his shoulder and grins.
And then he slams inside.
He goes in surprisingly easy. There’s almost no resistance at all, and Sylvain is grateful to Ashe once again for preparing Caspar so thoroughly. Or maybe Caspar is just that desperate? It hardly matters, not when Sylvain feels Caspar clench around him, hot and tight and needy.
He pushes forward at the same time Caspar pushes back. Sylvain breathes shallowly through his nose and clenches his teeth, trying to keep some semblance of control, but it’s so difficult with the way Caspar seems to surround him so completely. He tries to ground himself by leaning forward, bending over Caspar’s back, reaching to bury a hand in pale blue hair. He twists his fingers in it and pulls Caspar’s head back, his own back arching at the same time. The motion inadvertently pulls Caspar even further onto his cock.
Sylvain laughs through a strained smile. “Fuck,” he hisses. Is this what it’s like for Ashe every time?
Caspar shivers beneath him, mouth hanging open on a silent groan. Sylvain looks down and decides that silent isn’t good enough. Not for him, and certainly not for Ashe.
He tightens his grip and pushes Caspar forward so he can rest his head against his arms, folded one on top of the other against the wall. He moves just slowly enough to give Caspar time to adjust to the new position, and then he pulls back, back, almost all the way out.
He holds himself there a moment, just long enough to make Caspar wondering if the next thrust is ever going to come, and then he pushes right back in. Caspar cries out and Sylvain moves: out, in, out, in. He sets a quick, rough pace, enough so that Caspar doesn’t have time to even think about closing his mouth and denying Sylvain (and Ashe, kind and patient Ashe) the beautiful little noises he’s making.
“Can’t believe I got so lucky,” Sylvain groans, voice somehow steady despite how hard he’s thrusting, how deep he’s pushing into Caspar. “Getting to fuck you? It’s like a dream come true. And at your boyfriend’s request, no less…”
Sylvain laughs, the noise little more than a hiss through teeth. His hand leaves Caspar’s hair to grab possessively at the back of his neck, and it must set something off in Caspar, because he moans louder than ever before and slumps forward, pliant beneath Sylvain once again.
"You should have seen him when he asked me to do this," Sylvain says. "He was so cute. All red-faced and bashful... I almost decided to fuck him then and there, right out in the open." He watches Ashe as he speaks, enraptured by the way he stares back at him with wide, lust-clouded eyes. "Maybe I still should. What do you think, Caspar? Would you want to watch me fuck your boyfriend?"
“Ahh!” Caspar’s back arches; his eyes squeeze shut and his fingers curl into fists. Sylvain slams into him, again and again and again, and grins at Ashe, who continues to watch them with rapt, unblinking attention.
Sylvain chuckles. Just for fun, he spanks Caspar, who tightens around him in response. “Nah,” he decides, drawing out the word. “Maybe another time.”
“H-huh…?” Caspar turns his head to look at Sylvain, eyes swimming with confusion. It’s an absolutely delectable sight, and Sylvian can’t stop himself from leaning forward and pulling him into a bruising kiss.
Caspar whines into it, breath ragged as Sylvain ravishes his mouth. He’s sloppy and unfocused, and somehow, that just fans the flames that burn in the pit of Sylvain’s stomach even more. He wants to ruin Caspar.
So Sylvain digs fingers into his hip and pulls back, leaving Caspar gasping for air. “I said I’d leave Ashe alone... for now. But maybe I’ll get to fuck him later; who knows?” He feels a shuddering breath puff against his cheek. Caspar goes impossibly tighter, shivering under Sylvain’s grasp, and Sylvain has to suppress a shudder of his own. He spanks Caspar again, just to get his attention. To make sure he’s listening. “And I’ll make you watch.”
“Ngh…!” Caspar’s head falls, and all his muscles go tense; Sylvain bites his lip to keep himself from groaning. He tightens his grip on both Caspar’s neck and his ass and pulls him back to meet his thrusts. He’s going harder than ever now, and it hardly matters that he isn’t speaking anymore: the constant whines and moans spilling from Caspar’s mouth, the obscene sound of skin against skin, the tiny grunts that rise from Sylvain’s throat despite his attempts to hold them back – they’re more than adequate substitutes to fill the silence.
And then he hears it: a tiny little gasp from across the room. It’s a miracle he can hear it over everything else that’s going on, but when he does, Sylvain leans over Caspar, grinning with all his teeth. “You hear that?” he mumbles to no response. “Sounds like we’re putting on a good show for him.”
He doesn’t bother looking at Ashe. He doesn’t have to. And he doesn’t want to distract himself, besides. He’s so close, so close to getting Caspar to lose himself completely…
Sylvain rubs at Caspar’s neck, then thinks better of it and slides his hand up so that he can tangle his fingers in the short, cropped hair at the back of Caspar’s head again. He pulls, forcing Caspar to look up, up at the ceiling, and he slows his thrusting to give Caspar a moment to breathe and get used to the new position. He doesn’t let up completely, though; Sylvain grinds into him with slow, circular movements of his hips. “You doing okay there, Caspar?”
He doesn’t get much of a response. Sylvain can feel him try to nod, but his grip is too tight to allow much movement, so Caspar tries again with a quiet whine. It quickly turns into a long, drawn-out groan, however, when Sylvain grinds against one spot in particular.
He laughs. “Good boy.”
And then he picks up the pace again, slamming into Caspar relentlessly, over and over and over again, until –
"A-Ashe! Please…"
Sylvain slows down again. In spite of himself, he smiles, and a wicked thought crosses his mind. He leans forward, chest pressed to Caspar’s back, and laughs.
"Not Ashe, honey," Sylvain murmurs, teeth grazing the shell of Caspar’s ear. "Do you want to try again?"
Caspar tries to turn his head, but Sylvain has a firm enough grip in his hair that he has some trouble. All the same, their eyes meet: Caspar's hazy and delirious with pleasure, Sylvain's somehow sharp and clouded with lust all at once.
"S… Sylvain," Caspar gasps, the name almost like a question on his lips. Sylvain can't help the breath that leaves him, short and hot and shallow. He tightens his grip in Caspar's hair and thrusts harder.
"Say it again," he growls.
"Sylvain." Caspar's voice is more sure this time, more confident. He almost sounds like himself again.
And that won't do at all.
Sylvain slams into him harder, and that confidence shatters as a cry of pleasure wracks Caspar's entire body.
"Sylvain!"
"Beg me," Sylvain hisses, voice hoarse and near-crazed with want. "Beg me to make you come."
"P-please!" Caspar wails. His fingers curl into the wall, and distantly, Sylvain worries about him permanently marring it. "Sylvain, please, I want to so bad, I want to come, please let me—"
But he doesn't get the chance to finish, because Sylvain snakes an arm around his waist and lays his hand, palm down, right over Caspar's sternum. He pulls him back toward himself, away from the wall, and uses the momentum to swing the two of them around to face Ashe head-on.
Caspar very nearly sobs.
Sylvain is impossibly deep inside him now, but he knows that's not why Caspar had made such a delectable little noise: he can see Ashe now, legs spread open and head tossed back to rest against the wall. He watches Sylvain fuck his boyfriend through heavy-lidded eyes, just barely able to keep them open as he furiously works his cock. It's one of the hottest things Sylvain has ever seen, and once again he finds his mouth watering at the prospect of getting it on Ashe.
"Look at him," Sylvain says in Caspar's ear. He guides Caspar's face toward Ashe with one hand while the other slips around from Caspar's hip to grasp and slide along his cock. "Look at what you're doing to him. That's you. That's all you."
He works Caspar's cock in time with his thrusts, and mere seconds after the words leave his mouth, Caspar comes undone in Sylvain's embrace, whole body tensing as he coats Sylvain's hand, and his own chest, in white.
He's so tight now, so tight around Sylvain as he bucks his hips and rides out his orgasm. Sylvain very nearly follows, but he pulls out before he loses the chance to. He’s determined not to come inside Caspar, however desperately he may want to in this moment. Instead he jerks himself off, quickly and frantically, until he’s coming too and marking Caspar's back with it.
And Caspar is… wow. If Ashe jerking himself off is the hottest thing Sylvain has ever seen, then his own cum dripping down Caspar’s back is a close second.
He gives himself but a second to admire the sight, gorgeous though it is, before he scooping his weak-kneed friend up in his arms and carrying him over to the bed. Over to Ashe.
Sylvain sets Caspar down on his side, facing away from Ashe so that he can see the thick stripes of cum painting his back. A soft, breathy 'oh' slips through his parted lips, and Sylvain shivers at the sound.
He sits down on Caspar's other side, running a hand through his hair to try to both soothe him and bring him back to reality. He doesn't look down at him, though: the whole time, Sylvain watches Ashe.
"Got anything left for him?" he asks, eyeing Ashe's still-hard cock. Ashe looks up, eyes focused and determined despite the lusty haze in them. He nods, and Sylvain reaches for him.
“Good.”
He threads his fingers through Ashe’s hair, and Ashe leans into the touch, sighing contentedly as he lets Sylvain do as he pleases. And when Sylvain leans forward, over Caspar, and tugs on Ashe’s hair to pull him into a kiss, Ashe comes willingly.
He wastes no time in letting Sylvain pry his mouth open and slip his tongue inside. He meets it readily, and the easy slide makes Sylvain shudder. No wonder Caspar is so dedicated to Ashe if he kisses like this all the time.
He takes things slow. Sylvain wants to savor this moment, the calm between storms; he wants to taste Ashe, to feel him, to lose himself in the sound of his moans and the taste of his lips. And he does, for a while: Sylvain lets himself relax, lets himself enjoy everything he’s given before the next step begins.
But then he feels stirring beside him, and a voice pulls him gently out of his reverie: “Hey. None for me?”
Sylvain draws back, away from Ashe. Caspar looks up from between them, a lazy smile on his face and a gentle shine in his eyes. He’s still flushed and dazed, and the sight makes Sylvain want to take him all over again.
“You’re back, huh?” he asks softly, stroking Caspar’s cheek with the back of his hand before he moves it to his arm. “Come here, then.”
He pulls Caspar up gently and, with Ashe’s help, coaxes him into a sitting position. Sylvain shifts back a little bit to give them some space. He grins, gestures to Ashe with his arm, and says, “Go on.”
Caspar lifts his arms, still trembling from the remnants of his orgasm, and places two shaking hands on Ashe’s face. As soon as he touches him, they move in tandem, both leaning in to devour each other at the same time. Sylvain leans back on the bed, shifts his weight to rest on his elbow, and reaches down between his legs to palm himself. Seeing the two of them like this, so in love and so desperate for each other, stirs something deep within him, and an idea strikes him as Ashe gasps into Caspar’s mouth.
He stands up and walks back over to the desk. Sylvain turns his head to look at the two of them, and he notices Ashe watching him – studying him – with one eye open. His attention is fully on Sylvain now, even in spite of the fact that Caspar is still kissing him just as deeply as ever.
Sylvain winks and reaches for the jar of oil on the desk. He holds it up, puts a finger to his lips – shh, it’s a secret – and watches Ashe’s pupil dilate.
This time, when Sylvain returns to the bed, he positions himself behind Ashe and pulls him onto his lap.
The kiss before him breaks, both men gasping for air. Sylvain rests his head on Ashe’s shoulder. He feels an arm come up around him, a hand tangle in his hair.
“Sylvain?” Ashe’s voice is weak, almost slurred. It makes his name sound all the sweeter on his tongue. “What are you…”
“Shh. I’ve got you.” He can’t help the wicked grin that tugs at his lips as he reaches around Ashe and takes his cock between his oil-slick fingers.
“Ah!” Ashe practically jumps in Sylvain’s hold. His head falls back as he gasps, giving Sylvain just the right angle to turn his head and kiss his neck once, twice, three times. Then –
“Caspar.” Sylvain takes on that same commanding tone he’d had before, and Caspar’s attention is immediately drawn. He sits up straight, eagerly awaiting Sylvain’s next words. “Little help here?”
Caspar nods – “Right!” – and crawls forward, positioning himself so his knees bracket Ashe’s legs. He meets Sylvain’s eye, catches the near-imperceptible nod he’s given, and presses forward to capture Ashe’s mouth with his own.
As Caspar kisses his boyfriend, sucks on his tongue and bites his lip, Sylvain wraps his hand more firmly around Ashe’s cock. He strokes it slowly, careful to make sure he spreads the oil all along every inch of its length. Ashe twitches in his hold; Sylvain noses at his neck soothingly, tracing teeth along whatever skin he can reach until he finds a good spot to bite down on.
Ashe yelps into Caspar’s mouth, but the sound slowly dissolves into a moan as Sylvain sucks lightly on his neck. He’s long since learned how to do this without leaving a mark, but he can’t help the way his cock twitches at the idea of leaving a nice little bruise on Ashe’s neck. Then, every time Ashe saw himself in the mirror, he would…
No. he wants something more than that. Something better. He wants to bite and suck at Caspar’s skin, leave marks anywhere and everywhere he can, so that Ashe wouldn’t be able to look at him without remembering this, without remembering all that Sylvain had done to Caspar and how much he had loved it. That, however briefly, Caspar had been –
“Mine.” Sylvain breathes the word reverently over Ashe’s skin. He’s got them both right where he wants them, right at the tips of his fingers, hanging off his every word and action. Ashe cries out and goes tense, back arching as he involuntarily breaks away from Caspar. Sylvain squeezes his cock.
“Shh.” He kisses Ashe’s neck soothingly once more before pulling back and slipping out from beneath him. Ashe watches him move, mouth hanging open breathlessly. His face is flushed a deep rose, his hair sticking out every which way; he’s the very picture of ravished, and Sylvain can’t remember the last time he wanted to fuck someone so badly. But he reins it in, holds himself back. That’s not what tonight is about.
He touches Ashe’s side, lightly at first, just to get him used to the contact. He looks down at Sylvain’s hand uncomprehendingly.
“Ashe,” Sylvain says. “I need you to move, okay? Right over here – that’s it, just like that.” He guides Ashe to sit on the edge of the bed, balls of his feet touching the floor and nothing else. Once he’s satisfied, Sylvain slides off the bed. He takes a moment to admire Ashe, legs spread wide and cock standing proud between them, slick and dripping; and then he gestures for Caspar to move over him with a flick of his head.
“Face me,” he says. “I want you to look at me while you ride his cock.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath. Caspar’s eyes go wide. He hesitates a moment, but Sylvain encourages him with a slight incline of his head, and he eventually crawls over to straddle Ashe’s lap.
Ashe takes hold of Caspar’s hips and lowers him, just a little bit. Sylvain can see the way his cock twitches as it brushes against Caspar’s entrance. Both of them tremble, as if unsure.
“Go on,” Sylvain breathes.
And it’s like magic, what happens next: Sylvain’s quiet, gentle command seems to break the invisible ropes of tension that had been holding the two of them back. Ashe’s grip on Caspar tightens, nails digging into skin, and Caspar takes a deep, shuddering breath before sinking down onto Ashe’s cock.
They move as if in slow-motion, taking their time to savour the moment. Sylvain isn’t quite as patient, and he wishes they would hurry up and fuck properly already, but he bites his tongue to keep the words in his throat. He’s supposed to be in control here; he can’t very well let on how he really feels.
So instead, he stays quiet and takes himself in hand to try and distract from how desperate he’s become.
Then finally, finally, Ashe moves. He leans up to bite at Caspar’s earlobe and whispers something to him Sylvain doesn’t quite catch, but he’s quite certain involves the words ‘ready’ and ‘love.’
Sylvain laughs, interrupting before Caspar even has a chance to respond. “You’re really going to keep him waiting?”
They both glance at Sylvain, Caspar surprised and Ashe understanding. The latter nods, kisses Caspar’s neck, and thrusts up into him.
“There you go.” Sylvain smiles and tugs at his cock a little faster, a little more insistently. It’s nowhere fast or hard as he likes, but the pressure is enough to tide him over, to keep his hands occupied while he watches Caspar and Ashe fuck. He aches to touch them, to get his mouth on them…
He drags his eyes away from Caspar’s face (jaw adorably slack, eyes just barely open as he watches Sylvain watch him) to Ashe’s lap, and he licks his lips as Ashe slides in and out of his boyfriend with ease. He’s not quite as big as Sylvain, but he knows exactly what angle is best for Caspar, knows what will make him feel best.
Somehow, that just makes Sylvain want him more.
He speeds up his own strokes, fighting the urge to close his eyes and imagine that he’s the one getting fucked instead. Sylvain doesn’t want to miss a second of this, not when they had so generously offered him this gift. But it’s so hard, he wants them so badly…
“Sylvain.”
He looks up. Meets Ashe’s eyes. Falls head over heels in love with the look in those bright green eyes.
And then Ashe does something Sylvain thinks he’ll remember for the rest of his life.
He reaches around Caspar, puts a hand on his chest, and pulls his boyfriend tighter to him. Ashe twists Caspar’s body, giving Sylvain a very nice view of his side and part of his back. Goddess, but Caspar is flexible—
Ashe meets Sylvain’s eye. His lips twitch, quirking in just the smallest hint of a smirk as he presses his lips to Caspar’s skin.
And then he opens his mouth.
Sylvain freezes. Ashe sticks his tongue out. He turns his head to the side. Closes his eyes. And then he moves to lick a long line up Caspar’s back, right where Sylvain had—
“Fuck…!” Sylvain clenches his jaw and curls in on himself. He looks away, squeezes his eyes shut, squeezes the head of his cock – anything to distract himself, to stop himself from watching Ashe lick his cum from Caspar’s back. It’s too much. Sylvain doesn’t think he can handle it.
Ashe chuckles softly to himself. Sylvain can’t help it: he opens his eyes and looks at him. Ashe smirks at him, lips still pressed to Caspar’s back, even as Caspar bounces up and down on his cock. It’s a wonder he can keep his composure with how vigorously he’s being ridden, but somehow, Ashe manages.
Sylvain doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.
That blessedly smug smile stays firmly on Ashe’s face as he leans back and returns his attention to Caspar. He reaches up to pet his boyfriend’s face and Caspar looks down at him, laughing through his panting moans. Ashe’s hand does not linger, however, and once it leaves Caspar’s face it returns to his hip to hold him steady.
He needs it, too, because after half a moment’s pause, Ashe starts thrusting again.
Caspar practically screams as Ashe fucks up into him. He does his best to stay upright, but his legs are very clearly shaking with the effort. It’s not because he’s weak – far from it; Caspar has some of the nicest, strongest legs Sylvain has ever seen – but because he’s trying to hold back, trying to keep himself together so Ashe knows not to stop.
And that’s the last straw. If Sylvain can’t have Ashe, then he’s more than happy to make do with Caspar.
He moves without thinking, legs carrying him a scant few steps across the room to close the distance between himself and the happy couple on the bed.
Sylvain drops to his knees. He takes Ashe’s thighs in his hands and spreads them even wider. It has the nice little side-effect of making Caspar arch his back and cry out, and Sylvain grins, satisfied. He must have forced Ashe into an even better angle.
He sucks a breath in through his teeth and leans forward to press his lips to the inside of Ashe’s thigh.
“Sylvain…” Ashe’s voice is quiet, strained. “What are you doing?”
“What you asked.”
He pulls himself away from Ashe, takes a deep breath, and wraps his lips around Caspar’s cock.
Caspar jolts between Sylvain and Ashe, torn between rocking back against his boyfriend and fucking up into the wet heat of Sylvain’s mouth. In his indecision, he nearly ends up hitting the back of Sylvain’s throat. It’s a little painful in its suddenness, but after that split second of panic Sylvain groans and goes lax. He breathes in through his nose, inhaling the scent of sweat and sex. It drives him crazy – he wants them both so bad, wants desperately to make them feel good, wants Caspar to scream and moan and come down his throat…
He pushes forward, taking Caspar in right to the base. The motion is inelegant, made difficult by the constant motion of Ashe thrusting into Caspar and Caspar bucking his hips back and forth, but Sylvain is nothing if not practiced when it comes to things like this. He manages, and swallows around what he can.
Sylvain’s hands come up to press into Ashe’s thighs, fingers digging in to the soft, supple skin. He hears Ashe take a sharp breath and feels his rhythm stutter a bit, but Ashe picks it right back up when Sylvain pets along his leg. It’s okay, he tries to say with nothing but his hands. Go as hard as you like.
And Ashe does.
He pulls Caspar down onto his cock to meet every quick, deep thrust. Sylvain hardly needs to move at all, but he does anyway, determined to pull Caspar over the edge at the same pace Ashe pushes him toward it.
Sylvain wraps a hand around his own cock. The other remains firmly on Ashe, even as Sylvain wastes no time working himself up. There’s no point in teasing himself now: he wants to come, has wanted to for what feels like ages now, and both Caspar and Ashe are getting close…
He gags as Caspar is forced deeper into his mouth. It’s too much, all at once, and so Sylvain pulls back out of instinct, but the moment he does he realizes Ashe has gone tense under his hand. He digs his nails in, urging him silently to keep going, keep going, you’re almost there—
And that does it. Ashe jerks shallowly up into Caspar, and Sylvain feels the muscles under his hand twitch and flex. He knows, in that moment, that Ashe has just come.
Which means Caspar is not far behind.
Sylvain pushes down as far as he can go, tongue working the underside of Caspar’s cock as his throat flutters around the head. He holds himself there until he can’t suppress his gag reflex anymore. But he doesn't stop, even after he’s forced to pull away; Sylvain's head bobs as he dives right back in, sucking at Caspar's cock and beating himself off faster and harder until—
Sylvain shudders as Caspar comes in his mouth. He recoils at first, but pushes through it to swallow every last drop. He revels in the way Caspar’s cock twitches with every spurt, and within moments Sylvain is coming too, releasing all over his hand and making a mess of the floor beneath him.
He stays connected to Caspar even when it’s clear he’s finished, only pulling away to breathe when he feels the last tremors of his own orgasm fade away. Sylvain kisses Caspar’s cock once, then moves to Ashe’s leg, leaving a trail of kisses as he slowly backs away and stands up on shaking, unsteady legs.
He looks down at the two of them, still in the same spot on the bed. Ashe is slumped forward, leaning against Caspar’s back and holding him in place with firm arms around his middle, and Caspar leans back, an arm around Ashe’s shoulder as his head lolls off to the side. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. Judging by how lax he is in Ashe’s grip, Sylvain is sure it will take some time for him to come back down from whatever realm he’s floated off to.
So Sylvain flops down on the bed next to them. He stares up at the ceiling, somewhere above Fódlan himself; it’s only when he feels Ashe move next to him, feels the warmth of another body reclining at his level, that he realizes he’s still here after all.
“Hey, Ashe,” he says, a no-doubt dopey smile on his face when Ashe lays down next to him. “Fancy meeting you here.”
In spite of how stupid the line is, Ashe laughs, a short chuckle through his nose. He reaches for Sylvain and leans forward to kiss him. Sylvain melts into it, blissful and warm.
“This is my room,” Ashe says when he pulls away.
Sylvain raises his eyebrows and looks around the room without sitting up. “Huh. So it is.”
He looks back at Ashe, and thinks that this night was worth it alone just to hear him laugh like that.
“What’s so funny?”
Behind Ashe, Caspar rolls over and props himself up on one arm. He’s an absolute mess, hair mussed and stuck to his forehead all at once. His cheeks are still flushed. He looks… strangely adorable.
“Caspar.” His voice is soft as he says Caspar’s name this time. Gentle. Fond. Leagues away from the firm, commanding tones he’d used before.
Sylvain reaches for him. “Come here.”
Caspar allows himself to be pulled over and dragged down to meet Sylvain’s lips. It’s a little awkward with the angle and with Ashe lying between them, but Sylvain couldn’t care less. He’s warm, relaxed, content, and he’s making out with a strong, beautiful man. What more could he possibly ask for?
He lets Caspar go, and the kiss breaks with a soft sound. It sends a chill down Sylvain’s spine, and he has to tell himself no. They’ve already done enough for the night, and he’s sweaty and sticky and tired besides.
Still, he wouldn’t mind another round in the morning.
Eventually. Sylvain sits up, and from there he stands, reaching up above himself and stretching until his back aches pleasantly in that way that only a good stretch can grant. He hears Ashe and Caspar move on the bed, and when he turns to look at them over his shoulder, they’re both sitting upright and looking at him curiously.
“What? Is there something on my face?” Sylvain asks. He rubs his mouth with the back of his hand for good measure, just in case he’d missed some of Caspar’s cum. He hadn’t, but he doesn’t want to admit the relief he feels at that. They’ve just had some of the best, most intimate sex Sylvain has had in a long time; he feels a little bit foolish for not wanting to look silly in front of them after all that.
They share a look – something unreadable, only understood by couples that know each other as well as they do – and Caspar is the one to address him this time. “Just… wondering what you were doing.”
Sylvain smiles and tilts his head to the side. He looks down, noting the very conspicuous mess on the floor, and lifts his arms so they rest behind his head. “Just thought I’d clean up a bit,” he says. “It’s the least I can do after making such a mess.”
They trade another look, and Ashe picks up where Caspar left off: “It’s okay, Sylvain. We appreciate it, but… wouldn’t you rather just rest for a moment?”
Sylvain’s arms fall to his sides and he blinks, not entirely sure how to process what he’s hearing. “You… want me to stay?”
“If you’d like to—”
“Of course!”
Caspar’s enthusiasm drowns out whatever else Ashe might have said. He scoots over, patting the spot between them. “You just gave us the fuck of a lifetime,” he says. “You deserve something after all that.”
“Caspar is a cuddler,” Ashe mumbles sheepishly. The way he smiles and blushes, it’s clear he adores that about his boyfriend. Sylvain can’t help but smile. “But if you’d rather not…”
“Hey, hey, I didn’t say anything about that.” Sylvain’s smile grows. He steps back over to the bed, and Ashe and Caspar move to lie on it properly, leaving room between them for him. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but they manage. Sylvain wraps an arm around each of them and they lean on his chest, half on his body and half on the mattress.
It may not be comfortable, but this is the best Sylvain has felt in a long time. And if this is what sex with Ashe and Caspar is always like, then Sylvain hopes he gets the chance to get used to it.