From: (Anonymous)

I saw this prompt and blacked out at my keyboard. Cross-posted on ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600556

Fjord has always been tall, of course, or as long as Caleb has known him, has always carried himself well; that thrust to his shoulders that says I deserve everything I have and I deserve to be here. But it feels like it’s been a much shorter span of time since Fjord himself started to believe it, since he started carrying around that sword (that Vestige, that piece of divine magic more ancient and powerful than any of them could have expected) and since his form started filling out, his lean sailor’s build traversed with more substantial muscle.

It’s a pretty picture to see him laid out on the bed in front of Caleb: Fjord’s face flushed dark green, his cock stiff and drooling precum, his chest heaving with breath when Caleb rocks his hips, fucking into the tight heat of Fjord’s ass. It’d be impossible to look away from him if not for Jester curled up around Fjord, Jester who draws his eyes no matter what. She’s the most dressed of the three of them, which isn’t saying much, just a sheer, sleeveless lacy top that only reaches her soft belly. One dark blue nipple is visible through the fabric, the other is pressed into Fjord’s shoulder, with her face close enough to whisper in his ear. Her hand strokes idly along his chest, combing her fingers through his chest hair, gently twisting a nipple, and every so often —

Slap!

— she’ll crack her palm against his chest, usually at the spot she was just worrying at. She’s not timing it (Caleb would know, Caleb counts the uneven intervals between each slap without even trying), perhaps just waiting for when she thinks she’ll get the best reaction. It works, it makes Fjord start every time. He’ll let out a soft cry, jerk his hips against Caleb’s, and Jester will giggle and let that mischievous smile on her face brighten. She’ll be soft with Fjord right after, kissing him, touching him gently, keeping him still for Caleb. And every time Fjord will look ever so slightly closer to falling apart.

Fjord’s got a lot longer to go before he can, though; Caleb is just the appetizer. The main course is strapped between Jester’s legs, a dildo of marbled pink and purple that is easily as long as Fjord’s cock and more than a little bit thicker. It’s enchanted, of course, made to allow the wearer to feel it like the real thing. She rolls her hips every so often, pressing it into Fjord’s side; a quiet, taunting reminder of what’s to come.

Caleb grips Fjord’s thighs even tighter as he starts to feel his own climax approaching, being under no such restrictions on when he is allowed to come. There is a question of manners, though, and he deliberately looks past Fjord’s face to catch Jester's gleaming eye.

“Will you — ah! — permit me to finish inside him?” he asks, enjoying how Jester’s satisfied smile widens.

“You may.” She punctuates this by slapping her hand down again on Fjord’s chest. Fjord gives a ragged moan, but he looks at Jester like he’s never loved anything else. “But you have to clean him up after,” she adds, pointing a finger at Caleb.

“Mmm,” Caleb says, though he is really far too gone to be making any serious consideration. “A fair price.” He snaps his hips against Fjord and picks up his pace, using Fjord in a way that he hadn’t been before. Fjord reaches a hand up towards Caleb’s face, brushing the backs of his rough knuckles against Caleb’s cheek before gently grabbing hold of Caleb by his hair, pulling him down close enough to kiss the top of his head. The slight change in position, the possessiveness of the gesture, the warm press of Fjord’s lips all overwhelm Caleb, pushing him over the edge. He shudders with heavy breaths, his hand pressed into the tender flesh of Fjord’s chest to steady himself.

Caleb withdraws from Fjord limp and sated, sprawling out on his belly so that his head rests on Fjord’s thigh and his feet dangle at the edge of the bed. After a minute of lying there, breathing, Jester nudges Caleb with her foot.

“Come on,” she says, and even if she is mistress of ceremonies this evening she is still Jester. “Go ahead and lick his ass so I can fuck it.” Fjord laughs, a little unsteadily, and Caleb smiles.

“Your wish is my command,” Caleb says with as much flourish as he can muster right now, which is not much, and moves down between Fjord’s legs, his chin pressed to the mattress.

Fjord is already slick and gaping and sensitive from the lengthy prep Jester had subjected him to, fingering him on his hands and knees while he nuzzled at Caleb’s cock. He groans as Caleb presses his tongue to him, pushes it in, tasting oil and and the bitter-salt of come. Another groan from Fjord is muffled, maybe underneath Jester’s soft lips. Soon, though, she climbs down closer to Caleb, the soft cold muscle of her thighs straddling

“Don’t go too hard on him,” she says, stroking Caleb’s hair so he knows she’s talking to him. “If you make him come before I get a chance I don’t know what I’ll do.” Caleb can hazard a guess from how her hips press the now-slick dildo against his backside, and that is a thought, overstimulated so hard it’s painful with Jester’s enormous cock stretching him to his limit. But tonight is about Fjord.

“All yours,” Caleb replies, weakly pulling himself up the bed to take her place around Fjord’s shoulders. Jester wastes no time, she’s got three fingers already slicked up and ready, and when she fucks Fjord on them, he bites his lip and lets out a slow breath.

“Jester,” Fjord says, in a tone built on both impatience and restraint, the voice of a satisfied man trying so hard not to come. “Jester please —”

“Alright, alright.” She withdraws her fingers and cups his ass (the unfairly luscious, gorgeous curve of Fjord's ass) in both her hands, lifting his hips off the bed for her. She wiggles her hips just a little to get the angle right, and then she pushes into him. Caleb can’t see exactly how much, but he feels Fjord’s body tense and then relax against him, hears him suck in a long breath.

“Gods,” Jester says, eyes half closed in pleasure. “Gods, you’re perfect, Fjord, and I meant that — I meant that — Caleb, you fucked him so right.” She whimpers as she picks up her pace, and she must have bottomed out inside of him, from the way Fjord’s head leans back against Caleb, the way his breathing’s gone ragged.

It’s the most wonderful kind of afterglow, watching the two of them fuck while Caleb’s already spent; it’s the picture perfect definition of having one’s cake and eating it. He moves a hand to Fjord’s chest, pinching a nipple to a very approving nod from Jester and a weak moan from Fjord. He pulls his hand back, and then back down again —

Slap!

— and Fjord’s whole body jerks between the two of them.

“Fuck — Cay —”

“Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking close.” Fjord’s trying to sound annoyed but he’s almost laughing, and it makes Jester laugh.

“I think he deserves it,” Caleb says, looking up at Jester’s violet-flushed face.

“I think you’re right,” Jester agrees, and she bends forward, pressing her mouth against Fjord’s, moving one hand from Fjord’s ass to wrap around his cock. The sound Fjord makes as he spills over Jester’s fingers is so full of pleasure and satisfaction that it almost makes Caleb’s own cock twitch.

After a moment she returns to fucking him, her pace now rapid and her teeth digging into her lip in exertion.

“Jester —” Fjord’s voice is weak with overstimulation.

“Just a little more —” She’s almost crying, and her hand is gripping Fjord’s thigh looks close to drawing blood. “Just a little more — oh!” And she bends forward, her breaths going heavy and ecstatic as she comes.

Jester recovers quickly, like she always does, standing back up on unsteady legs and unbuckling just enough of the harness to take it off, discarding it on the floor. She flops back into bed on Fjord’s other side, making the mattress bounce. Fjord curls his back towards her, and she happily spoons him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling Caleb towards them with one hand.

“I’m not moving,” Fjord says with some effort, not even turning over his shoulder to look at Jester. “I’m not moving for at least all day tomorrow. I can’t feel my legs.”

“So good job?” Jester says, eyes flicking towards Caleb.

“Good job,” Fjord agrees, and Jester, grinning, slaps his chest again.

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