i'm rewarding myself with porn

[warmskies]

There's something so sweet about anticipation.

Claude is no stranger to it, in many aspects of his life - the good and the bad. At its worst, well, there's been a good portion of his childhood when he had only himself to rely on. Even many years later, and he can remember those occasions so easily: how the scant space underneath his bed had felt crushing, his breath not even daring for the quietest inhale, ears straining as he'd listened to an assassin step closer thinking he was vulnerable up above on his mattress. He knows that tension well, how his heart had been in his throat and the beat in his ears, palm growing clammy around the dagger he'd held.

Yet more often than not, he thinks of how anticipation has been something he's lived for.

When he was young, it might have been the stories in books which had tempted him first, tales of wit and bravery and kindness against unspeakable odds that had kept his eyes trapped to the page. All the while, Almyra's sun had filtered in through open windows, keeping him warm until he'd almost fall asleep with his stories. When he was younger, when he could still vaguely be considered protected under his parents' eyes, he could be swept up in those tales because he hadn't quite lived them.

Wyvern riding had almost taken the edge off of his endless curiosity, when he'd first been introduced to it. Where to start with wyverns? With the way they'd nearly sated his interest to the world beyond the land he didn't quite fit into? How both of them had made him fallen in love, moreso than books?

Electricity had thrummed through his veins the first time he'd been allowed to approach one. Even as an adult, the memory is still with him: the sharp scent of blood and meat filling his nose, bucket heavy in his hand, that even heavier gaze watching him as he'd dumped it all into the trough.

On the day that he'd been allowed to ride one... Incredible. Breathtaking, in every meaning of the word. On one hand, he could very well plummet to his death, yeah, sure, but that view? That feeling of freedom, not only on a physical level, but so far away from the things that had restrained him in Almyra? To think that being in the air was only the first step?

He's currently on another first step once more, although not for anything as immediately and obviously enthralling as wyvern riding. Yet that's part of anticipation too, isn't it? That slow... creeping... exhilarating wait. Claude can't help but bite down on his lip, but only because that's really the most he can do right now.

After all, it's not like he can do a lot with his arms bound in fine silk.

It's the perfect material: soft enough that it doesn't antagonize his skin, but tied perfectly with such clever fingers. Even he can tell, in his position, that he won't lose feeling in his hands anytime soon.

Yet even in the ways it's soft and smooth, there's no doubting its sturdiness. Not with how it so effortlessly has forced his hands to stay pulled upright over his head, leaving him helpless without the things that have saved his own life so many times.

Oh, certainly, his legs aren't restrained, not like his arms and hands, so theoretically he could use those if he really wanted to do something...

But, why on earth would he? It's so comfortable to have them right as they are, with his knees pressed into the luxuriously comfortable velvet of a pillow. Eventually, they'll ache right down through muscle, into bone, if he's kept here long enough... and that idea is so very tempting, because it makes him think of what other ways his body will ache. Yet it's absolutely not just the comfort which keeps him so perfectly in place. 

It's what Felix had whispered into his ear as Sylvain had held up the blindfold, teasing his ears with the plugs that would rob him of his hearing:

You're not allowed to move until we say so.

It's only been a minute or so that he's been left to kneel here, he thinks, and he has absolutely no idea what's happening around him. Dimitri's gentle but firm touch had guided him to this surface, sure, and Claude is... fairly certain that it's only big enough for him. Maybe a little higher than the bed when he takes into consideration how high he'd had to raise his legs and the ways in which Dimitri had to so effortlessly pull him further upwards. Beyond that? Beyond that, he can't even imagine what they could be doing.

Well, there's no doubt in some way what they're be doing, especially with Sylvain give some input and ideas. They're teasing him. Making him wait. Making him long and ache for a single bit of their touch, locked in the darkness that such a simple little blindfold provides until his overactive and oh-so-very creative mind can only come up with idea after idea after idea...

Claude shivers a little, his aroused cock trembling. The act of stripping him completely bare was, he's glad to say, something that happened while his vision was still unhindered. Felix had warned him, earlier in the morning when they'd all double checked to agree on the time for this little meeting, not to wear anything that he would miss...

It'd been a little hard to oblige him, or any of his lovers. He's here as the king of Almyra, after all. That's a position and situation which has called for his finest clothing, and who had he been to deny his tailors a chance to show off? But he'd managed to have one of the castle's servants scarper down into town in order to find him some quick and simple clothing he could use. A little bit of extra effort? Sure. Claude isn't denying that.

But it had been worth it, to have Sylvain at his back with those clever hands along his waist. Worth it, to have Dimitri at his front so that he could hook just a single finger into the collar of his shirt.

Of course Claude is already this hard, this quickly. Anyone would be, if they'd been forced to watch Dimitri tear open pure cloth with only one finger and a gentle pressure. Claude thinks there might be marks along his shoulders where his shirt had dug in at the pull of it. He can still remember the way the frayed cloth had tickled at his stomach, how the callouses on Dimitri's thumb had made him shiver when he'd dragged it along the curve of his hip...

Gods, he'd known that the blindfold would get to him, but Claude is almost impressed that it's got him squirming in eagerness this quickly. He wiggles his ass, trying to be tempting... but he has absolutely no idea if any of his lovers are even in the room anymore.

They could be walking around him, drinking in the sight of how desperately he's waiting for them... That would be the best. If they're watching him, even when he's locked in place like this... He can still affect them, and isn't that a part of the game? Certain it is for him and Felix...

Or what if they've left him here? Oh, now that would be cruel. To lock the door to Dimitri's bedroom, keep him hidden away, out of sight, wanting for their attention... Definitely cruel, and Claude's length only throbs harder at the idea. What will he be like, after ages of longing for them, kept locked up like a precious treasure and so sensitive that he'd cry for even a single touch?

There's also a third option, when he stops to think about it. It's that the three of them could still be in the same room together with him... but ignoring him entirely, their hands and lips on one another.

Yes, that is definitely an idea, and Claude has seen it so many times during their relationship that he can imagine it in his mind's eye perfectly. They could be right in front of him, Felix pinned so neatly inbetween the two lancers, those strong thighs of his wrapped tightly around Sylvain's waist while he's held up, that stubborn glare of his broken down by pleasure with Dimitri's teeth marking claims along the delicate curve of his throat... It's always such a gorgeous sight to see. Claude wishes he could see.

Or maybe it's Sylvain they're all spoiling. Claude loves it when they all get to do that, when they get to ensure his mask is tossed aside, all his selfless faking firmly shelved with Felix's hand at his chest and pinning him up against Dimitri's broad frame, the womanizer brought to heel when his king so lovingly presses a kiss against the curve of his ear or Felix grinds up into him...

So lost in a whirlwind of memories and fantasies, he's thoroughly unprepared for when a set of lips suddenly press against his, and Claude melts into the touch before he has even a second to think. It's incredible how little it takes to get him moaning... The soft heat, that tongue sliding into his mouth, every little action and suck done to utter perfection.

It's the perfect kiss, the kind that makes Claude so reliably fall apart. He's supposed to be guessing at which of his lovers it is, but how can he? Too overrun with how good it feels, the kiss too deep in how it steals his breath away - and he's not even being touched anywhere else. Not his chest, his cock, not anything. It's enough to make him whine, and he can feel a smirk against his lips.

For just a second, he and his partner break apart for air, and he gasps it in, something thick sliding against his tongue as he does so. It's just a little too much, a little too dizzying, for him to take in right away... but as he breathes again, something tickles at his nose.

Sometimes, the key to being clever is to instill habit into you... And his habit is to leap upon even the slightest change in things, storing it away, analyzing it like a dog chewing a bone to shreds. When he breathes in with his nose, a warmth rolls in down his throat, settling in his lungs like a summer's wind. The slight tease to his nose had been a kind of sharpness, something that sparks in his lungs even amidst all the warmth...

Ah ha. Claude grins, even as he knows he must look a sight - breathless and flushed and still so very aroused. "Hello, Sylvain," he purrs.

Out of his three lovers, only one of them regularly wears any sort of scent on purpose. Felix rarely does, unless there is a particular bit of social duty he has to perform as Duke and Shield of Fodlan, and those he so desperately tries to avoid most of the time. On the day to day, he just smells like sword oil - thick, earthy, just a little teasing with the sharpness of clove thrown in.

It's an anchoring kind of smell, one that suits him perfectly. As nobility, Felix is no dandy, preoccupied with politics and fine fashion, but instead the protection of his people, in all ways. Claude has always had a fondness for it, and he's never failed to breathe it in deeply when the two of them have drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in one another.

Dimitri brings a bit more of a variety, and Claude can always tell what he's been up to depending on what he breathes in when he hugs him for the evening, even if he didn't pay attention to Fodlan's king at all.

Unlike Felix, Dimitri feels a little more obliged into his presentation, perhaps even moreso than when they were all young, when he still had two brilliant blue eyes that shined when he smiled.

It's always subtle, however, some little herbal thing that so easily gets drowned out by the smell of ink and old papers, or the acquired taste of old horses whenever he's actually taken a break for himself. Sometimes sweat and earth clings to him, and those are the days Claude knows he's been spending his time with Felix in the training yard, both of them working through the habits a lifetime of war has given them.

Thus, this leaves Sylvain, and he's the only one amongst the three who would shallowly fit the idea some have of typical Fodlan nobility. It's the outdated rumor of flirting on one hand, of course, and his attention to the little details like fashion - things of that nature.

It's a mask, of course, one they've all together long chipped away, but some parts of it are so deeply ingrained as habit that it's impossible to fully separate from him. His flirting is practically second nature, even if he no longer pursues girls, and the scent of him whenever he's been buried deep in Claude, the two of them holding on tightly to each other... That's a part of it, too. A little thing he does every morning, just because he's done it for so long.

Always the smell of cinnamon. Always so warm, and hot, and comforting.

He's clearly guessed right, with his reward being a quick kiss along his neck that has him sigh, followed by a flick of one nipple that has his whole body jerk in surprise. "No fair," he murmurs, lips quirked up in a playful smile, but there's no more touching from Sylvain. Still, that tells him enough. If Sylvain is here, then Dimitri and Felix absolutely are. It's just a matter of waiting... and doing his best not to go out of his mind in desire.

What feels like ages pass before he gets any satisfaction, however. Claude tries to keep track of time in his head, patiently counting out the seconds, but he's never entirely sure of his own timekeeping. The darkness of the blindfold, his own eyelids, makes all time seem meaningless, and his erect cock says that every second is an hour. How is he supposed to wait, when he wants nothing more than Sylvain's mouth on his, Dimitri's teeth in his skin, Felix's fingernails dragging down his sides?

Which is the point, he knows, but still.

Eventually, his reluctant patience nets him a reward... and, just like Sylvain's kiss, it's all the more sudden. A pair of firm and confident hands suddenly reach between his thighs, shoving them apart hard and fast. It's embarrassing to say he squeaks at the action, but - well, what can you do.

He barely has any time to do much more than feel a little silly about it, because soon those hands are keeping him pried apart. A nose nuzzles the base of his cock, shifts down the curve of his pelvis, and finally stops at the inside of his thigh.

That... Oh. Claude bites his lip, trembling a little bit in eagerness. Not Sylvain this time. Sylvain will get a little rough, especially when Claude or Felix asks him to, sure. When it comes to the people he really loves, he's ultimately a pleaser in bed. But it's exactly because he's such a pleaser that he shies away from being too hard, too fast, when it comes to them. So it can't be him... And, besides, Sylvain just touched him. They would be too repetitive-

A sharp nip to tender skin drags a gasp out of Claude's mouth, and he jerks fruitlessly. Silk and fingers alike keep him contained, and another little bite is given as punishment - or is it reward? He's not entirely sure he can tell right now... or if it even matters.

He understands the message either way. When those teeth close in on him again, digging in harder, sucking a bruise into existence that he'll think of every time he looks at his legs... His hips jerk slightly, a little thing, but he doesn't fight like before.

As the series of bites continue, each pain always carrying with it a little bit of pleasure, Claude tries to force focus once again. Right. Right. So. Not Sylvain. Then that leaves Dimitri or Felix, both a little more willing to be as rough as they or Claude likes, for different reasons. He swallows thickly, well aware he's of the precum beading at the tip of his arousal, and the idea that he could be dripping onto a lover's shoulder, the mental image of another licking it from their skin... No, he has to focus. Gods, if it isn't hard, though.

"Felix," he gasps, after a particularly sharp nip to the fattest part of his thigh, the area most likely to bruise splendidly. Felix because this is so aggressive, so repetitively rough, the kind of squirming their sweet sadist of a lover enjoys to see even when he submits. Felix because it's the same way he uses a sword, meant to strike over and over again at one's weak spots. Dimitri is rough, yes, but he's scattered and rough, the kind who'd mark Claude's entire body, instead of this more pointed approach meant to dismantle him completely.

Yet even as he says that, Claude can't entirely be sure... not with the three of them teaming up against him... Who knows how they'll decide to be tricky against him, or how much they'll play things straight.

So it's a pleasant surprise when it's a kiss that's pressed against his skin instead, right against one of the most recent bites. He can feel the way Felix smirks, and the words he mouths into sensitive flesh: Good boy. That alone draws a longing sigh from Claude's throat, able to hear the exact cant to his lover's voice in his head. It wouldn't be the first time Felix has praised him with a smirk on his face, those eyes of his sunrise bright.

Unlike before, there's not a lot of time before his lovers make a move again. Felix has barely pulled away, fingers dragging against the marks he's no doubt left on Claude's skin, when another set of hands slide along Claude's back and around his side.

Now that he's had the opportunity to feel Felix's palms on his legs, it's a lot easier to realize the difference between him and the others. For all his virtues, the description of which would surely aggravate and embarrass the swordsman in question, Felix is still the shorter of their other lovers. Smaller, even if he has a well trained body after years of never being settled with his own ability.

The hands that are on his body now are bigger, and he thinks the callouses along the palms and fingers are different too, although that's a bit hard to recognize when they slide against his skin so nicely. Something to do with the weapons Felix uses compared to those the others prefer... Claude can only ponder the beginnings of that particular train of thought before one hand slides up along his chest, dragging a fingernail around one perk nipple.

Claude makes a noise that he can't begin to describe, just in time for it to be twisted into a whimper as the other hand softly drags nails down his stomach. They go right to the soft curls that trail even further, to where his arousal aches. Sylvain or Dimitri - which one? It's too soon for him to tell.

Dimitri might get rough, the self-placed chains he keeps on himself removed occasionally for sex and passion, but he's just as much of a ridiculous romantic as Sylvain is, beneath it all. And this is just rough enough for Sylvain to feel comfortable with, too, fingers smoothing out and spreading just around his cock without directly touching...

As much as it kills him, as much as he wants to writhe into those tempting hands that tug at his arousal so neatly... Claude needs more time. He needs more clues, because right now? Right now he can't tell them apart at all.

Breath flows softly over the shell of his ear, rustles through his hair, and the hands along his body begin to change course. The one teasing at his chest refuses to give him any true satisfaction, just soft and far enough that pleasure is a suggestion... just a light brush, and then that finger trails away. More join it, and Claude groans at the pressure of fingernails dragging down the curve of his ribs, along his side. Gods. Maybe he'll be lucky. Maybe there will be red marks on his skin when he looks in the morning.

There's no need to worry about his chest being left unattended for long. The fingers bracketing his cock slowly drag back upwards. They ruffle the trail there, and then their touch becomes lighter and lighter, softer than a ghost. Desperately, Claude arches his back, wanting for something firmer.

No dice. For every little barely there centimeter he tries to eek out, that lovely touch remains just a centimeter further. This continues up until they find his other nipple, left unattended throughout the whole antagonizing and delicious affair.

So soft, so gentle, he couldn't anticipate the way they suddenly close in, pinching and tugging at the erect peak, and a startled little cry leaps out from his throat. His spine feels as though it's going to contort, the way he arches it to chase pleasure and pain alike. A laugh goes off at the back of his neck. That decides it for him, and he groans out his answer. "Syl- ah! Sylvain!"

There's no reward. He's expecting one - a kiss, a gentle stroke, the fingers that twist his nipple so wonderfully horrible easing up. Maybe even a pleased little touch to his aching dick if he's really lucky. But no, nothing.

He almost thinks he's right. With one hand anchored along his hip, keeping him still, the one at his chest does indeed relax, flicking at his nipple playfully before pulling away. Just as he's starting to loosen into the sensation of victory, however-

With no hearing to catch the sharp smack of skin against skin, the sensation feels all the more brilliant for it. It ricochets like lightning throughout his body, rolls up his spine and makes his dick twitch as it goes from his rear to the front. Worse, somehow, is the absence of touch, more agonizing with his flesh left sore but deprived of a warm hand.

At least there's still the other hand to soothe him, fingers smoothing out to reassuringly pet along his stomach, his side. It's a softness to balance out the pain, even though both make him twist and shiver. But that gives things away on its own as well, doesn't it? Sighing as he recovers from the star shattering after-sparks of pain that's still rolling through his body, Claude sinks back as best he can and arches up into that indulgent and loving touch. If it's someone rough and gentle in equal measure, then... "Dimitri..."

The hand drifts up along his chest again. The bite of a nail presses right into his nipple pulls a gasp from his lungs... one that's knocked right out of him when the other hand collides into his ass again, and he jolts - partially from the renewed sensation, partially from surprise. "No fair," he keens, unable to move much at all with that hand holding him so firmly by the chest.

There's no cheating allowed in the rules for this particular game. He's "punished" when he gives a wrong answer, and "rewarded" when he gives a right one. It's all pretty simple, or at least it should be.

So why is he being punished for the answers he's given? There aren't any other ones to give. Felix's touch was so recent that Claude can recognize it now, and those hands don't match up to the ones that are on him now. There's only Dimitri and Sylvain, unless.... Oh, the idea that they've dragged in a fourth, another person to tease him, instructing them in all the right ways, that's delicious in a way that makes his hips jerk. Blind, he can feel acutely how the precome on the tip of his cock falls off - onto the floor or the pillow, it doesn't matter.

Not that it would actually happen, he's pretty sure. Claude is delighted to say that all three of his lovers are possessive in their own way, some more than others or for certain things. That they can share at all is probably helped in no small part by their familiarity and affections for each other, he's fairly certain- and, ah, that thought manages to act as a connection to what he's positive is the real answer.

Still. It wouldn't be a bad thing to double check his work, would it? And if maybe he wouldn't mind a little bit of teasing, well.... He can't stop the playful grin that spreads along his lips, and his tongue darts out to wet them. With one hand still a nice firm grip against his chest, Claude presses into it. "Process of elimination says Felix, then," he says, and he can only imagine what his voice sounds like, thick with desire and raw from the way he's gasped and keened for them.

A burst of air along his neck hints at another laugh, and he squirms in delight when he gets spanked once again. Even better, while he's still reveling in the sting that leaves him tingling, there's a breath along his front and then a quick nip to his throat. Claude laughs. "Alright, now that was Felix," he says, and grins into the kiss he receives.

That just leaves whoever is touching his actual body, but this settles it. Wiggling against the latest slow drag of nails against sensitive skin, he outright purrs his answer. "So then, it's Sylvain and Dimitri both who've been toying with me all this time."

Bingo. There's his reward, another smack of his ass, but this time the hand doesn't leave him. Instead, it digs in, leaving a mark that he won't get to see but that he knows will drive his many lovers up the wall every time they do. On the other side of his body, lips press down against his neck, kissing him with such eager reverence that he would melt into those arms if he weren't so otherwise preoccupied. 

His different sides were what gave it away that there were two of his playful lovers instead of only one, after all. On his right side, his nipple had been twisted and tugged, but the left never did anything further than dragging nails against and into his skin. It had been his right side that had gotten the sting of an open palm, but the hand on his left had never dared to.

Of course it wouldn't have, if the left hand had belonged to Dimitri. Even with years of learning to practice and rein in that impressive strength, Dimitri is still just a little wary of being rough on a more... precise level. 

Pinning Claude to a wall, moving him around like he's a ragdoll, grabbing at his hair and biting claims into his skin - Dimitri does all that and more, gladly. But something like spanking, or hitting, the more focused things? He knows that's still a little too scary for him. That's fine by Claude. They can work bit by bit through this part of their life together. And in the meanwhile... Sylvain and Felix can pick up the slack, the former especially as he kneads and digs his nails into Claude's rear. 

There's nothing better than being pampered by all three of his lovers at the same time... save for perhaps doing the same to any of them. For a moment, all they do is tease and please him, fingers gripping hard at his ass and gently spreading it, brushing so faintly at his entrance.

Further up, Dimitri works patiently at marking the entirety of his neck and shoulder. Unlike Felix's sharp bites, he's much slower, ensuring every single mark is guaranteed to stay and last. His movements are slow and languid, making sure the arousal sinks down into Claude's very bones. What can he do, but sink into their dual embrace? 

He's not even thinking about what Felix could be up to, swept away as he is, until there's a hot gust of air along the head of his cock. Claude goes rigid again, gasping, and he can only helplessly jerk his hips when there's the most fleeting of kisses over the slit. He almost misses how the hands along his body pull away too, distracted by this sensation... But then he's left with absolutely nothing besides silk along his wrists, velvet beneath his knees, and the arousal had between his legs. 

It was all perfectly fine before... but now that he's been fed such delicacies, from Felix's lips to Dimitri's teeth to Sylvain's finger toying with his entrance... how on earth is he supposed to just kneel here?

Claude swallows thickly, trying to convince himself to hold still. Felix in particular loves to see him squirm and beg. Claude never would have thought him to be that kind of lover before they became one of each other's, especially not after seeing him melt in Sylvain's embrace or keen under Dimitri's weight... but maybe he just brings out something in his sharp-tongued love. 

Besides, he's already in trouble just with Dimitri being a part of this game. Dimitri in particular is a lover who adores taking his time in bed. That can mean anything from worshipping Claude's body like he were an avatar of the Goddess, or holding him back from release until Claude's face is streaked with tears. Now that he's all done up neat as a present, with silks and velvet? Oh, Claude knows he's in for a wonderful torment. 

And then there's Sylvain... Too clever, too understanding of how Claude's mind works because his is very much the same. With him offering suggestions to a sadist and a lover? Claude's breath shakes where it leaves his lips. 

Like before, he doesn't have to wait as long, but he still doesn't get anything immediately. That has to be Sylvain's idea.. but what comes next is a little harder to pin down in terms of blame. 

While he loves Fodlan for all its beauty and unique characteristics, and he loves visiting his lovers whenever he gets the chance to, there is one downside. A lot of restructuring has had to take place since the end of the war, with three countries coming together as one once more, but Fhirdiad has still managed to remain the capital in a way and definitely where its king resides. That's fine, understandable. It's just that... Well. Fhirdiad is in the lands that were once the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Faerghus is a northern country. 

Faerghus is cold as an ice nymph's bosom. 

Usually that's not a problem in Dimitri's room, with an impressive fireplace that's often set to a roaring blaze. Thus the whole thing is far more tolerable than it otherwise would be. Tonight is no different, with a welcoming heat that's managed to wash throughout the whole room. It can't match the heat that's burning through him like his veins are tinder... but Claude is pretty sure that very few things, besides perhaps dragon's fire, could match him. He'd thought that was a good thing, too, since his lack of clothing has leapt him a little chilly...

So when a finger presses against the skin right over his stomach, so hot that it only barely doesn't burn, he jerks in surprise - something that he doesn't think he'll be able to stop doing for the rest of the night, with this blindfold around his eyes. It's a brief touch, a sliding flick of a gesture towards his chest that doesn't quite reach, and then it's gone. 

Without the shock of it... the heat isn't anything impressive, honestly. In fact, it dissipates almost immediately, leaving behind... cool and wet skin, the sudden drop in temperature making him shiver in a way that's only partially arousal. Yet it's just enough, and in such a small area, that he can't suffer too much. It's simply nudging at his discomfort, teasing him.... 

There's only a couple of seconds to analyze the sensation before that finger ventures close again, dragging around the curve of his hip and disappearing once more. Heat, then coolness, playing with his desires... Sylvain? Is that too predictable? Claude bites down on his lip as the finger starts right between his shoulder blades before dipping down to follow his spine.

It's not an intense change in temperature, this hot water or whatever else it is that's being used on him... and yet, with the spots that are teased, that burst of heat and contrasting coolness, the finger that never stays for as long as he wants it... 

Claude cries out, surprised, when a tongue suddenly laps up the trail along his back, and a pair of firm hands hold his hips in place so that he can't squirm nearly as well. He's trapped, kept in place against those lips brushing along his skin. They belong to someone different than the person who's been teasing him with temperature... he thinks. After how his perception was messed with by Dimitri and Sylvain acting together, how can he really be sure? It was only a single finger, and he's already so worked up... 

While those lips kiss at his shoulder blades, soft and insistent, the finger returns again, this time at his front. It traces circles and loops over his chest, nail skimming along his nipples, and Claude makes- gods, he can't even imagine the small little noise that comes out of his mouth. The effect it has on the lover behind him is immediate, however, with teeth scraping just along skin.

Whatever it is that's being used on him is plentiful on the finger, dripping down his chest.. and soon another mouth is joining in this endeavor, a flick of tongue scooping up the fastest drop. They don't touch him for a moment more, but Claude can still feel them, feel that hot breath warming up all the parts of him that had chilled. 

And they don't stop there. That same tongue swirls around one of his nipples, his left, and Claude groans while his hips twitch to no avail in an absolute steel vice grip. The silk was one thing... but this is what truly makes him immobile, a prisoner to pleasure. Pleasure and pain both, as a matter of fact, something that he's reminded of as his tormentor's teeth close down on him. 

Kisses at his back, biting at his front... and there's still the person teasing him, which isn't either of the other two. He has suspicions on who's where, when he can think well enough to form such thoughts, and it's something confirmed when he feels a soft but dry hand sweep through his hair to push it out of his face.

The intent is made obvious when something sharp wafts before his nose, and a finger presses down on his bottom lip. Obediently, Claude drops his mouth wide open, and the finger slips further inside, bringing with it... Ah, he sees now. Claude rolls his tongue over the digit, curving around it and savoring the taste of hot cider. It wouldn't have been the first thing he'd have thought of, in choosing a drink to tease his lovers with... but he can see the sense. 

It's an innocuous drink, for starters, and a little better to use as a hot drink than other options. Tea could be a little too scalding, and other hot drinks like hot chocolate would be a little much. Cider can be sticky too, sure... but not if it's constantly being lapped up like it is now, lips kissing at his hips and along his chest.

Swallowing the warm taste down, Claude smiles around the finger. At this size, and knowing his lover's personalities... "Sylvain," he says, the name no doubt off to the ear considering it's off in his mouth. A finger in the way will do that. 

While the finger drags from his tongue, lingers along his lips, it's soon replaced by a sweet kiss that melts him down just as much as the first one did, and he thinks he can still taste a little bit of cider on Sylvain's own tongue... or maybe it's his mouth that carries the taste. Little technicalities like that don't matter nearly as much as Sylvain's fingers sliding through his hair to cradle his head, he thinks. 

There's not long before someone decides to protest, and it takes the place of a sharp bite and suck along his chest - or maybe it's a team up, because Sylvain drinks in the shocked noise he makes with a kind of delight. Still, that gives the game away too, and Claude laughs breathlessly when Sylvain at long last pulls away. "Hello to you too, Felix - so that leaves Dimitri at the back, right?"

When he says it out loud like that, even if he can't hear his own voice, it all makes sense, and probably should have from the very start. Dimitri's adoring mouth kissing at his spine, Felix's sharp tongue and sharper teeth put to good use at his front..

So that ultimately leaves Sylvain to tease him, knowing exactly how to conduct this little sexual orchestra composed of the three men that he loves most in the world. There's no better validation than their other two lovers, however, with Felix releasing his teeth so that he can kiss and bite up to Claude's jaw, and Dimitri straightens up so that he can kiss the shell of Claude's ear. 

Such sweet lovers, even though they have surely made his body nothing but the imprint of their teeth in more than one place. 

Each one of them leaves one last kiss on his skin before they all pull away, as they have each time before. Instead of surprising him with something else right off the bat, or leaving him to recuperate while waiting with trembling breath...

There's a light touch, at the corner of his mouth. A faint thing, only noticeable for how long it stays in place. Understanding the unspoken meaning, having agreed to it before all of this even began, Claude catches his breath and turns his face with a smile. He doesn't say anything. All he does is lightly kiss Felix's fingertip, and then the touch is gone. 

With none of them left to hold Claude upright, he slumps in place. As he does so, the silk digs into his wrists, keeping him upright. His whole body feels alight, after two consecutive team ups like that... And this is still just the start. Realizing that has Claude groan softly, the sound strange and muffled inside of his own head. It's a good groan. Eager. If this is just the start... how much will they unravel him by the very end? 

His ass is still aching deep down to the center of his body, a pleasant and dull throb that reminds him of what it will feel like whenever any of them finally take him properly. Where Felix kissed, licked, and bit him still has a tingling left behind that makes him want to touch his chest, chase that sensation with his feisty and caring swordsman having left him like this. And then there's the way he swears he can feel every little imprint of teeth at his shoulder... Ah, how he loves this sort of roughness. He's not going to forget this for a long while yet. 

So lost in the way these little bits of pain feel so good, he forgets what can amplify this feeling... which is pleasure, upfront and uncomplicated. At least, he forgets it until there's the tell-tale waft of hot breath against his arousal, and he doesn't have even a second to prepare himself before the very tip is swallowed up. 

Claude keens, automatically trying to thrust deeper. He's been left hard, unattended save one teasing touch, for ages now. Doesn't he deserve some relief? Doesn't he deserve more than fleeting and shallow pleasure? Gods knows he wants more, and being denied is steadily killing him. 

Whoever has their lips around his dick apparently doesn't mind that casualty, however. They pull away as he tries to push forward, and a pair of hands comes from behind to restrain him from going too fast or too deep. He groans again, once more unable to move from the sturdy grip that's keeping him in place. They're large, those hands, so it's Sylvain or Dimitri that's holding him... but that hardly helps very much at all. That means any one of them could be on their knees, teasing him pointedly with another hot gust of air that has his cock twitch anxiously. 

Clever, very clever, the way someone else is holding him back like this. It makes it so that guessing right off the bat is impossible. What little movement he has? Robbed from him.

He can't appreciate that right now, not when he'd had such a shock of pleasure that's now been stolen from him. Obediently, he sinks into the grip at his hips, taking in a shuddering breath. Whether or not Dimitri is the one holding him back, or the one on his knees, or the one not touching him at all.... It doesn't matter. They're clever, but he's moreso. Claude decides to take a little risk, moaning again. "C'mon, Mitya... I want you so bad..." 

No attention to his cock, no reaction from the hands at his hips- but there's fingers fisting in his his hair, dragging his head to the side, and Claude's groan of utter delight is devoured by his Mitya's possessive lips. Dimitri has so much passion in him, things he's bottled up and preserved like a fine wine because of what he feels the world and his kingdom expect from him... So it's good to get it out in occasions like this.

Claude genuinely thinks that, he really does, and if it happens to benefit him like this, too... Well. He grins when Dimitri bites at his lip, and only barely manages to have enough room so speak clearly. 

"Technically... Not a guess." 

Dimitri stops kissing him, then, and Claude can't stop himself from grinning wider. What an adorable face his fellow king must be making, wide eyed in such genuine befuddlement. At his hips, the hands tremble just a little bit, and uneven gusts of breath go over the back of his head - Sylvain is laughing at them both, he bets. 

This time, when there's a moment of stillness and inaction, Claude doesn't mind it nearly as much. He imagines Sylvain's teasing, Dimitri's fluster, how annoyed of all of it Felix must surely be.

Perhaps he's enjoying himself a little too much, grin a little too wide. When Felix deigns to touch him again, it's to give Claude exactly what he wants: an all-engulfing and wet heat swallowing him from the tip to the very base of his cock. His own barely restrained laughter falls apart, a wail of pleasure broken loose from him. 

Around his weeping cock, nuzzled right up against his pelvis, he thinks he can feel Felix smirk. Gods, but he has good reason to. A series of shattered noises fall from Claude's lips like stars as Felix slowly drags his mouth up again, tongue pressing up against the bottom part of his shaft. He seems to hit every little vein or sensitive curve to him as he goes.

"Felix, don't tease," he murmurs, which of course only incites the other man to pause right at his cock's head and suck sharp enough to knock the breath right out of Claude's lungs. Then again, when it comes to Felix, playing with that contrary nature of his is often half the point. 

Even though this particular round of the game has long been solved, thanks to his so lovely and helpful Mitya, Sylvain's fingers don't move from Claude's hips, and Felix doesn't seem interested in moving off his cock. Instead, they continue, and Claude can't even begin to guess if this counts as a reward or as punishment. Reward in the way Felix coaxes pleasure upon pleasure with that mouth of his that has such talent for picking fights. Punishment in the way Sylvain refuses to let him move even an inch for more of it. 

All too soon, he can't spare much thought for things like the game at all. The pleasure coaxed into a roaring blaze within his body becomes far too much for such petty things. All he can do is gasp, moan, and occasionally offer a plead that stumbles ungracefully from his lips for Felix to go faster, go harder, please, just a little more, just a little more...

Worse is when Sylvain decides to join in, pulling closer until he's grinding right against Claude's ass. He bites down on his lip again, because there's nothing else he can do in this situation. Nothing but long for the clothed bulge that he can already tell is so hard, the cloth offering a delicious friction to skin that's already been made so sensitive. No, not just his skin, but his entire body, longing for the release both men are promising in their own ways. 

Close. He's so close. Claude forces his noises to become words, difficult as the task seems right now. Sure, he might not be entirely cognizant of what words he's making, besides that he's begging for sweet release... but he's fairly certain he makes them regardless. He's so near to the edge that if he doesn't get there- if he doesn't take that plunge with pleasure wiping out every single trace of thought - 

Later, when he's able to think clearly, if he can even remember this moment clearly, he won't be surprised it's then which Felix decides is the perfect time to pull away. The rush of air over his heated arousal is like an electric shock, and Claude gasps into his shoulder, the only reaction truly left and available to him. Felix's mouth had been so soft, so wet and warm, a perfect place to reach pure bliss. Now - the air in Dimitri's room isn't cold, he knows that, but it's all the colder with his cock abandoned. 

"Felix," he whines, not caring that this is exactly the kind of state Felix loves to see him in the most: no playful schemes, no clever wordplay, no getting under his skin so easily. Just flushed and utterly debauched at his mercy. "That's not fair and you know it." 

While it's not a complete pressure, Claude can still feel something linger against him, the whole of him. It's the feeling of someone leaning in close enough that they could very nearly touch, that the hairs on his body can feel but not the flesh. Not yet, anyway. Something drifts along his hips, then his side, up to oh-so lightly pinch at the same nipple that'd been abused a while ago with teeth.

Claude very obviously can't tell if he's saying anything or not in response to his words, but, honestly, the teasing attention being given to his chest says all it needs to in its own way. It wasn't that long ago, relatively speaking, that Claude tied Felix to Dimitri's bed, dripped wax onto his bare body, and teased him with his ass for an ungodly amount of time before finally riding him like a prized wyvern. 

So, you know, while Claude doesn't regret that beautiful night, he also can't really make his argument in good faith. At least, not to Felix, or anywhere Felix can overhear him. 

Still. What a sweet revenge. He'll have to tease Felix further in the future, if he gets like this. 

That's a plan for after he gets his current orgasm, assuming he can get it at all. With his hips still trapped in place, Claude can hardly move, and leaning forward is an almost painful stretch. He barely manages to find Felix's face, lips brushing along his jaw and his nose finding loose hair.

That latter detail is especially a pleasant surprise. It must have happened after he'd been blindfolded... If only Claude could see it properly. Using his lips and nose to find his way along Felix's face, Claude finally kisses his ear. If begging gets him nothing, then perhaps a different type of persuasion may do something.

"Felix," he breathes, hoping that his voice comes off as soft and tempting as he wants it to. With how affected he is... Well, who knows what he sounds like. Not him. "Don't you want to see me come? Don't you want to hear me cry your name?"

When he receives his answer, it's in the form of Felix turning his face against his, and his lips curving into a smirk Claude knows oh-so-very well. Even though it's not spoken, even though Claude can't hear it, that's more than enough of an answer.

Terrible, really. Cruel and devious. What did he ever do to deserve him? Well, a lot of great things, apparently, and Claude doesn't regret a bit of it.

He doesn't get long to savor Felix's body against his, faint as it is. Far too soon does Felix pull away, teasing him one last time with his fingers dragging at Claude's hips before they slip off. Sylvain's hands give a friendly pat along the part of his ass not sore (yet), before his hands go as well, leaving Claude alone in darkness and aching pleasure.

In his head, while he still has time to think despite the throbbing between his legs doing its damnedest to make that an impossible task, he goes over the teasing that they've done against him so far. How much more they can possibly do. If it were only Dimitri and Felix, well, that would be a little bit easier...

They both have the spirit to drive him up the wall, of course, and either one of them has always more than succeeded in giving him the best sex of his life on any given night. Felix is even determined and clever enough to catch him by surprise sometimes. But with Sylvain in the mix... Well. He doesn't have to worry about wondering if he's overthinking things, at least. With Sylvain, they're both often exactly on the right track.

So, he's been kissed, and that was Sylvain. Felix bit him not too long afterwards. Sylvain and Dimitri both played their game with him shortly after, then all three of them for another team up... And finally Sylvain and Felix with this last bit. Claude licks his lips, trying to fight against his own arousal in order to figure out who's next.

Dimitri hasn't really gotten his time to have Claude all to himself yet... It's been long enough to tease him with the idea, hasn't it? The idea of those strong hands on his body again like they had been a short while ago. That passionate mouth driving him to the brink of ecstasy.... He wants it just thinking about it.

But then again, maybe that's the point. Maybe they know exactly how much he wants Dimitri all to himself too, instead of working in tandem with either of the others. When it comes to the thing a person wants the most... sometimes the biggest impact is when you've forced them to wait, mouth watering the entire time. Or maybe even Dimitri himself is what's holding him back. Claude wishes he wouldn't. All he wants to do is be touched by him... that and nothing else right now, besides coming all over himself.

And hey, who knows? Perhaps with his clever mouth, he could even get both of those at the same time.

It's a tempting line of thought, and occupies more than enough of his time... but he's already established that time is meaningless in his current state. All too soon does he realize that his lovers have abandoned him again. The slick along his length grows dry with only precome wetting the tip, and the impact along his ass and the bites along his thighs dull.

Yet his arousal doesn't dim at all. If anything, the neglect stirs him even worse, and he squirms in his captivity. Has it really been so long? Or, once again, is his own arousal just driving him up the wall? 

Claude tries to be patient and quickly fails, shifting his knees against the pillow he's atop of. He can't even do anything, can he? He could try rubbing his thighs together. However the pillow is in the way. It's not possible he could position his legs well enough for that... And it wouldn't give him the satisfaction he's searching for.

If anything, he'd just be tormenting himself. In that case, would Felix and Sylvain let him work himself into a frenzy? Or would they interfere because the control of pleasure isn't allowed to be in Claude's hands...? There's no question that Dimitri's self control would snap clean in two. 

He twists his hands in the silk, wondering if he should even pretend that he has a bit of cool to his name. Does it matter if he's already fallen apart, in the name of goading his lovers on? Or is the genuine aspect of it important? No, it's his lovers- they all care about drawing him into the maddening euphoria of pleasure from their own actions, nothing given to them.

Claude swallows thickly, trying to follow his thoughts, but it's no use. All he can think about is his dick, longing for Felix's mouth, a teasing touch from Sylvain - or maybe none of those, and he quakes at the idea of Dimitri sliding a finger into him, a tongue, his thick cock spreading him apart so easily until he feels full, full, full, like there's nothing else but the warmth of his love in and around him, pressing up into that part which has him break so utterly- 

Okay. So. Claude swallows again, and finds his mouth full of saliva; it'd been watering just thinking of what his lovers could do to him. What they still haven't done. This is truly nothing less than pure devilishness, drawing him so close to the brink... and then leaving him. Now he's on the verge of begging. And, yeah, he's pretty sure it would be the genuine article, this time around. Bit by bit, the tempting ache in his length begins to die down, although he's not sure when, not sure how long they've left him like this. 

He's also not sure when it is that a pair of large hands suddenly grab him by the thighs and yank him upwards until he's horizontal in midair. 

Claude lets out a real yell this time, all surprise... but he can't deny the spark of arousal in his belly as those hands settle behind his knees. It's a dizzying sensation, with only touch and gravity's weight giving him any idea of what the hell is going on. As he's reorienting himself in his own head, his fingers fumble to wrap around the silk at his wrists - the only thing he can truly rely on right now, offering some stability and control in an ironic twist. 

Once he adjusts to the surprise of it all... Security and safety hit him immediately as he realizes he knows those hands, so gently keeping him upright without even the slightest waver. He knows whose shoulders it is that his legs are guided to, whose lips press against his thighs where Felix's bite marks still sting at the reminder.

Reassured, Claude allows his head to fall back, curls tumbling hang in the air. "Is this some sort of kind freebie?" he breathes, observing at the same time at how heavy his own cock feels, hard and waiting, against his stomach. "Mitya, no one else but you could hold someone up like this." Well, that's in this room, anyway. 

Dimitri's lips curve into a smile, further up his thigh now. With Claude's legs secure around his shoulders, his hands drift up from the back of his legs, to the curve of his ass, until they're resting along his arched spine. Claude doesn't even feel as though he's in danger of falling, now. Not with how Dimitri doesn't shake where he holds him with only one hand, and how utterly balanced he is. It doesn't feel like he's being held up by a man. It feels like he's laying on something, just too close to the edge perhaps. 

Then again, that's how it always feels with Dimitri: safe, no matter any risk or danger. 

He's won the round, so his reward is immediately granted - Dimitri really does treat him so well. Kisses are littered all across his skin, Claude's muscles jerking under every sweet moment. Somehow, it's the contrast that makes Claude's cock twitch again, precome pooling along his stomach.

Dimitri just hauled him around as though he were merely an overly large pillow, swinging him about like a plaything, and, gods, if that won't ever fail to get straight to him. And yet here he is, only a couple of seconds later... Every soft kiss practically a prayer made to his heart and his body. What a man. How could he not want him? 

The kisses cover every bit of his thighs, switching from one to the other at Dimitri's discretion, and Claude's breath catches, fingers grinding at silk, when he feels that breath get closer. His lips are higher, now, higher then where Felix's teeth had dared to mark. Finally, they reach the indent where leg meets hip, and his breath gusts along the very base of Claude's cock.

Claude's breath catches, and then strangles around the sound that leaves his throat when Dimitri dares to slip his tongue out. It slides along the soft spot between his legs, just before his entrance. He squirms, legs tightening around Dimitri's shoulders, but it doesn't seem to deter or dislodge the other man at all. 

Perfectly at ease with Claude's wiggling, Dimitri merely rolls his shoulders to a more comfortable position. His palms slide along Claude's body until one is right over the curve of his rear and the other stabilizes him right along the middle of his back. Over Dimitri's fingertips, Claude's body spills right over, held up only by silk and his own body.

For a second, he could almost imagine this is what it feels like to be weightless... He's been on a wyvern before, after all, numerous times. He's more than acquainted with the feeling. Yet while he loves to ride, he's never felt quite like this before... and the blood in his body can't seem to decide which head of his to go to first. "Mitya," he murmurs, shivering again as Dimitri patiently goes right back to work. 

But he's learned his lesson now, he promises. This time he doesn't squirm desperately for more attention. Instead, he just digs his legs in harder around Dimitri now that his lover has made himself comfortable, and that tongue teases at his balls. That's honestly more than enough to make him whimper. They're not a place that get a lot of attention most of the time, honestly, but half the time that's because he's busy pleasuring any of the others himself. 

Trust Dimitri to not be negligent of a single inch of him. His tongue slides against the soft flesh languidly, followed in short order by his lips as they close around him. Felix definitely hadn't touched there, not yet, and Claude reacts in much the same way as a moaned out cry tumbles out his lips, floating through the air much like he feels he must be. Unlike his fiery counterpart, however, Dimitri doesn't tease him endlessly in one place.

He lightly sucks, to hear Claude call out again, before he releases him, licking and nuzzling in other spaces. Not a single little bit of skin is left unexplored. To Claude's tortured delight, wherever Dimitri lays his mouth sends waves of pleasure rolling against him like the ocean upon his toes back in his second home of Leicester. Shocking, insistent, making him quake every time. 

His arousal may have flagged a little bit when Dimitri caught him so off guard at the start of this round, but it's right back at full force with such loving worship. And he does mean full, absolutely fit to burst with how much he can feel it throb against his stomach, slick and wet.

A part of him desperately wishes that Dimitri would follow in Felix's suit, take him in his mouth completely. There's a part of his brain, maybe, that can put together a vague semblance of coherent thought to understand that orgasm isn't the best idea for this particular position... but that part of his mind is completely drowned in lust, and all he can do is moan out Dimitri's name.

His lover's smile forms perfectly against the inside of his thigh, and Claude digs his heel into Dimitri's back when he feels some of that long and lovely hair brush along his skin. Dimitri's hair is so soft and silky that he adores toying with it, feeling the way it slides between his fingers... and in far more sensitive areas? It's - a lot. He only has to deal with it for a moment, at least, until it slips away from his skin. Dimitri kisses back down to the stretch of skin leading to his tense entrance.

No direct attention is given to the area, just lots of sidestepping and teasing... and honestly, that's more than enough. He's already sensitive there as it is, but turned on to this degree? It's insufferable, something that sets every single one of his nerves alight with need. Claude's head feels as though it's full of clouds, empty save for pleasure, and so of course this is the time Sylvain deems it perfect to slide in with a sneak attack.

There's no one else that it could be, not at the height he's been left dangling at. Only Sylvain has the ability to guide his head until it's tilted even further back. Claudemust surely be upside down if space and direction means anything at all anymore, like this. Really, at this point, they're trivialities compared to the way that cinnamon scent fills his lungs again and Sylvain's mouth slides so neatly over his lips once again.

Unfair. So very unfair. Claude can't even fight or make a sound besides soft moans, helpless to the perfect way Dimitri tugs at every string of rapture with his mouth alone. At the opposite end, Sylvain steals his breath away. Everything is only a dizzying pleasure, and nothing else. How could it be anything else?

It turns out there's another reason besides driving him up the wall that Sylvain is there instead of this being a purely Dimitri show. When the redhead pulls from him, Claude can feel the words along his arched throat. Slowly, he begins to be brought back down to earth. Dimitri might be one of the strongest men in the country, possibly the worlds until Claude can find evidence to the contrary, but balance and care is something that needs a bit more than that.

Sylvain's extra pair of hands help guide him carefully. At the same time, Dimitri pulls away from Claude's lower half, and assists with the same. Even his neck is carefully braced, and soon enough he's back on his knees, hanging limply from silk.

Yet he's not left to his own devices, not immediately. Sylvain's hands stay at his back, helping to prop him up so that the silk doesn't strain against his wrists too much. He's a quiet unobtrusive presence like this - not the words most would use to describe Sylvain the vast majority of the time. Then, at the corner of his mouth again, that soft touch, a single finger asking something without words.

Still feeling a little dizzy, body electrified with pleasure, Claude... doesn't react as immediately as he did the first time. He just sighs, and leans into that touch for a second with little thought in his head.He just wants Dimitri in every way possible, from the way his legs still twitch in memory of those soft kisses to the smear of coolness as air hits the precome stuck along his stomach.

To a warm hand, large enough to cradle his face so lovingly not despite but because of the scars and callouses that litter the palm.

It takes a couple of seconds for his brain to kick in again, drunk off pleasure and safety. Blinking behind his blindfold, for all the good it does, Claude pulls an almost drunken smile onto his lip. Finally, he turns his mouth to the hand resting along his face. It's just a kiss, a simple little thing, but he thinks he can feel Dimitri's entire body relax, even only from his lips to that palm.

Dimitri strokes his face softly once, one more time, before he pulls away. At his back, Sylvain does the same, even going a little further with a kiss to the back of Claude's neck. The real surprise is the way he jolts when they both leave him, skin left cold. It makes sense after a second; his body has started to sweat and grow warm after all of this. It's not a lot, and yet, still...

When they leave him alone for a few minutes this time, Claude suspects not out of a desire to torture him. More it's so that he can catch his breath at what has definitely been the most ambitious round thus far. Sure, not the guessin part, that was easy. Rather, the technique is what got him this time.

When he's finally touched again, it's at his back once more. Fingers drag all the way down his back before they dig into his ass and slowly spread him out. Claude bites down at his lip. There's a breath against his hole, his body remembering all too well what had happened only a few moments prior.

Unlike then, however, there isn't just a mouth teasing at all the most sensitive parts of him. Instead, something firm and wet presses against his entrance. It's a sensation that Claude is well versed in thanks to three attentive lovers. Taking in a deep breath, he tries to convince his body to relax as finger slides into him. Only one finger, but his body briefly tightens around it.

Claude bites back a soft keen of a noise. All this teasing, in so many different ways, has made him sensitive enough that he feels as though he could come from a single finger alone... especially with how deeply it reaches. It's able to press up into his prostate easily. Just that has him jerking violently. 

"Dimitri," he gasps once the stars have stopped crashing behind his eyelids and he can think clearly once again. Whether it's luck, having larger hands, or some other factor he can't possibly begin to guess, Dimitri always seems to hit his most pleasurable spot the quickest. With his fingers? His mouth? The answer is 'yes'. It's one of his greatest talents as a lover, honestly, something that Claude never fails to appreciate. Usually it's not this quick... but luck seems to be in Claude's favor tonight, or maybe his body is just that eager for what it knows is coming. 

His reward this time is a sweet kiss along his arched spine. After a couple of thrusts to get him ready for it, another fingers lides into his body. It's a bit of a tight fit, Claude won't deny that... But, no doubt thanks to his own lust and appreciation for just a bit of pain, it doesn't detract from his pleasure at all. The stretch is just comfortable enough at this level, satisfying without going over the edge.

Dimitri pauses slightly to ensure everything is going well. With that confirmed, he continues to move, thrusting and scissoring him a little wider every time. Eventually, a third finger slips right in, encouraging him all the more, until Claude is thrusting back weakly. Unlike before, Dimitri doesn't stop him. Maybe that's a part of the reward, too, or maybe he just enjoys seeing the way Claude responds to him. It's a mystery that, ultimately, doesn't matter. 

When those fingers finally pull out of him all together, Claude whines, spine curving even more in an attempt to make himself look appealing. Without Dimitri's digits inside of him, he feels so empty... and his arousal is once again dripping precome, caught between cool air and the hot skin of his cock. He's not surprised when he's once again left alone, and he swallows, eager for what's to come next. 

There's the possibility that they just wanted to get him all worked up again, of course... so he tempers his expectations and hopes as best as he can. This is difficult, for his body feels alight with desire, wanting that final touch that will send him towards the end. He's practically shaking with it all by the time he finally gets what he wnats, hot flesh sliding up the middle of his ass and bracketed between both cheeks. Behind his blindfold, Claude's eyelashes flutter, and he curves backwards once again into the burning hot sensation he can feels on his bare skin. It feels so good, so suggestive... And he's pretty sure he already knows who it is before he's even entered him. 

Honestly, they both probably know the game is up from the very start, but Claude doesn't say anything. All his latest partner does is grind against him as a tease and temptation before pulling away. Slight but calloused hands settle on his hips. Already Claude finds himself panting, eager for what comes next, and his partner doesn't fail him. Doesn't tease and drag it out, like all the times before.

He just pushes right through, not even giving Claude the benefit of a simple shallow thrust first. No, he slides all the way in, slow, gasping, lips pressed against the back of Claude's neck until he's bottomed out. "Felix," Claude moans, squeezing tight around the heat that's buried in him.

Because it can't be anyone else. Felix may be smaller than their other two lovers, height an undeniable fact, but that means nothing. His cock always curves so nicely into Claude's body, head tilted sharply as if it was meant to fuck him right through to bliss. Felix is the only one who can fuck him from behind and press his chest flush to Claude's back. He eliminates all space between them, presses his teeth against Claude's ear. Oh, Dimitri and Sylvain fill him up in entirely different ways, yes, but Claude loves it, this closeness. 

And he loves Felix's passion, too. The other man takes only a moment to adjust before he pulls out almost completely, tip the one thing still in Claude. It's a second of tease... and then he begins a fierce and almost violent pace. It shatters through him Claude, steals his breath until he has to fight to speak. Claude doesn't think too hard on the exact words, on the pitch or tone or anything to use.

All he does is call to him, beg him, use every single bit of word in his Fodlan lexicon and then a few in his Almyran one as well when he realizes that makes Felix slam his hips harder. 

In the past, Felix's passion has never failed to drag Claude from a steady 0 to a raging 100 of a hard on in record time. He's always so rough, so quick, and he hits every little bit of Claude's desires when he gets worked up like that. Now...

Well, for the last gods-know-how-long, Claude has been aching and aroused. It's unfair what Felix's roughness does to him now. Claude's eyes roll to the back of his head, his peak fast approaching. Words begin to fail him, and he could be forgiven if he doesn't even know half of what he's actually saying. All he knows for sure is Felix's name on his tongue, rising higher and louder, until he's shaking his hips desperately in tandem with his lover- 

There's a touch at the base of his cock, fingers wrapping around tight, that breaks Claude's words completely. His jaw drops open, and his head falls back. He strains against himself, spine a perfect curve, waiting for release - and waiting - and - "Fuck," he gasps, realizing what has stopped him. Why the demanding pace into him isn't getting him to come, while the hand on his arousal isn't the finishing touch to a mind shattering orgasm. 

Once upon a time, the time when he'd been teasing a bound Felix, he'd used his fingers to stop the other man's own release... and, well, no one can say that Felix Hugo Fraldarius never learns or doesn't pay attention. It's that same type of grip wrapped around Claude's own length, right at the base. He's trapped in a state of lust limbo, with the gatekeeper being the absolute worst sadist in Fhirdiad. This isn't the first time that Felix has used his own technique against him... but Claude regrets it every time. 

"Felix." The name tumbles out of his mouth, raw and from the very pit of his throat. "Felix- please - oh gods, Felix, you can't do this to me-"

Those lips against the back of his ear, his neck, curve into an even wider smirk, and Claude has to amend that statement. As a general rule, Felix Fraldarius can do whatever he likes, held back only by those he likes enough to deem as friends or lovers. It's probably something inherent to his very nature, his actual soul. The fact that he's now recognized as a duke has probably only made that problem worse, and the world has to deal with that. Claude, in this particular situation, especially has to deal with that. 

He changes tactics: shameless begging. "C'mon, Felix, please, gods, fuck me until I come calling your name, let me spill all over your hand, I just wanna-" Felix fucks into him particularly fast and hard, another pull nearly all the way out just to slam right back in, to the hilt. Claude's words become nothing more than incoherent wailing. Fuck. Fuck. What a bastard. He loves him so much. 

It doesn't matter what Claude says, ultimately. Trust him, he tries. He makes all sorts of debauched promises, with all different parts of his body. He squeezes down on Felix the best way he knows how, in time with his thrusts, and cries out his name with full abandon. Yet Felix had made his decision ages ago, as far as Claude can tell. He doesn't let up in the slightest. His fingers remain a perfect vice around Claude's length, denying him to the very end... with Felix's arm wrapped tight around him and his breath ragged against his skin. His own release pours into Claude, so white hot that it makes tears prick at his eyes. 

Around his cock, Felix's fingers finally loosen, slipping away entirely. That same looseness overtakes Felix, and he slumps against Claude's back. He's utterly spent, and it's all inside of Claude, now. Must feel nice.

Claude can barely even imagine such a state with his entire body absolutely electrified. His erection is so hard that he thinks he really will die from it, which is not the sex related thing he thought would ever do him in. (It was trying to take Dimitri and Sylvain's dicks at the same time, as a matter of fact.) Distantly in some forgotten corner of his brain, he's thankful for the pillow under his knees. So overcome with want, his legs are shaking - or maybe that's just the after effects of how hard Felix had been fucking him. 

A kind and generous and loving partner would do him the favor of getting him off after what has no doubt been hours of pure sexual torture. Felix, however, just smiles against the space behind Claude's ear, kisses the skin there, and smacks his ass as he finally pulls out. And it's the side that's already sore, too. He has to know that just makes Claude's cock ache more, although, disappointingly, it's not enough to make him come. 

It's even worse that Felix came in him, too... Inside of Claude's body, his spend is still hot, the slow slide of it setting off every little nerve. Oh, if only his hands were free. He could reach one hand inbetween his legs, and push his fingers through the slick. The other could wrap around his aching cock for long sought after release... 

Claude twines the silk further around his hands, fingers digging into the smooth material. It's the only even vague sort of release he can get. It's only him, the silk, and Felix's seed beginning making its slow descent. Whether they're enjoying his torment or tending to Felix - maybe even both, Dimitri is a rather attentive lover and Sylvain is quite good at multitasking - the others don't pay him the slightest mind. Or, if they do, he sure can't feel it. 

It's only when he's away from the edge, his erection absolutely killing him, does someone else finally lay their hands on his body. Broad palms and long fingers press against his ass, that firm softness, and begin to ghost up to his chest. Even if it's technically not much, it's enough to shake his entire mind apart once again. This much, even this little, is too much stimulation for his poor body. Claude arches his spine, curving into those hands. "C'mon," he mumbles, breathing hard and having to swallow every other second. He wants this. He needs it. "I'll be so good for you,  you know, just please... Let me..." 

His words trail off, overtaken by a moan as one of those hands smooths across his chest and tweaks a nipple before departing. The loss could make him cry, if it wasn't soon replaced by those same hands - probably, he thinks. They settle behind him on his hips in much the same way Felix's had. Unlike Felix, however, his newest partner doesn't dive right in.

Instead, the head of his cock teases at Claude's entrance, so easily able to slip in and yet refusing to. Begging might work better, whether it's Sylvain or Dimitri, but Claude doesn't try that just yet. He merely grinds back against that inquisitive cock, trying to tempt it all on his own without his words to sweeten the pot. What could begging really do that his utterly wrecked state right now couldn't, anyway? They've heard him beg, seen how he was denied his release. Is there any sweeter temptation than him right now? He's pretty sure not. 

Even though he hasn't made a guess, Claude seems to be right on the money in terms of what a sight he must make. One of the hands lightly pats his side in understanding before disappearing. If Claude had to guess, it's to ready his cock. Both of his remaining lovers are quite blessed by the Goddess of Fodlan in that regard, so it's a bit of a necessity. Soon, he feels that hot length start to slide inside of him.

He tosses his head back, shuddering. His body stretches to make room for this latest breach, one that's just a little bigger than that before it, but a journey made all the easier thanks to oil and come. Oh, gods, that's right, he's being fucked while Felix's own seed is still inside of his body... That knowledge has him spread his legs wider, wanting to be filled up more. 

Yet he should have known better than to think his wish would be granted. Only the very tip presses into him, grinding up against the dozens of sensitive nerves bundled up there right at his entrance. Desperate, he tries to press back to pull his partner in further. He wants so much more than this faint teasing thing that can't possibly fill the hunger inside of him. But it's to no avail. Whenever he tries to press back, his partner pulls away. At one point, he even pulls out so much that his cock starts to slip out, and only Claude's desperate whining keeps it from happening. 

What an amusing sight he must make. That's the only reason to tease at him endlessly like this. Every little grind against his hole is like a single drop of what he really wants - another to keep him going, but not nearly enough to satisfy. He can't even do anything. He tries to rock back, fruitless though he knows it is. There's begging, and pleading, and all manner of other ways he could convince his partner... But it's no use.

When he tries to speak, a simple gasped out "Please", one hand leaves his hips to instead slide a pair of fingers into his mouth. Claude's eyelashes flutter once again, his world nothing but pleasure... and cinnamon. 

Maybe Felix is starting to spread around some of his bad habits, if even Sylvain is treating him like this... because, with those fingers in his mouth the way that they are, he can't even say the redhead's name. Whenever he tries to work his tongue around into a position where he can, Sylvain adjusts his fingers again, pinning Claude's tongue inbetween them. Even though he should be annoyed, held back from his only means of pursuing pleasure... Something about the forced helplessness sends his body quaking again, and his cock twitches helplessly. How much of a mess has he made himself at this point? Claude can only wonder. 

Eventually, he stops trying to fight for his ability to speak. Sylvain clearly isn't going to let him, just like he isn't letting him find release... So he has to do something else. Hands bound, legs trembling, Sylvain teasing him, and fingers in his mouth... All of it appears to block off everything he could possibly do. Claude knows that can't be true. As long as he can move even one part of his body... and he thinks he understands, after Sylvain grinds his fingers down on his tongue, just what he can do. What Sylvain wants him to do. 

One of his lesser known talents is seeming incredibly at ease and in control even when he's falling apart, Claude is proud to say. Right now, he wants nothing more than to fuck himself wildly on Sylvain's cock. He wants to splatter his release all over the floor while he screams his lovers' names to the Heavens. That's barred to him.

Instead, he begins to toy with the fingers that Sylvain has so graciously spread out along his tongue. He sucks on them, licks, moans until he's positive that the sound has vibrated straight to bone. He's indulged in turn, the fingers moving languidly in and out of his mouth. It's as though Sylvain wants to spread him open all over again when Felix stole that chance... 

At long last, the fingers all drag out of Claude's mouth, just like they did the first time, and he swallows. Saliva has definitely slipped down his chin at this rate... but then, it wasn't as though he were any less of a mess beforehand. Felix and Dimitri alike had already made him cry out in ecstasy, teasing him to the brink. Regardless...

Swallowing down air, Claude fortunately remembers just what he was working so hard to do. "So rude, Sylvain... You don't want me crying out your name?" Just saying those words feels like he has to force them out of his throat, raw and wanting. If that's what he feels like, then what must his lovers hear...

Something good, it seems. Sylvain finally presses further into him, a slow thrust that doesn't go too deep. Not yet. Sylvain takes his time in pleasuring him, rolling in again and again, deeper every time. Claude's fingernails scrape against the silk when he does, shaking in his attempts to wait instead of scrambling for the feeling. Sure, this might not be Felix, but still.

And there's something nice to the romantic way Sylvain fucks him, frankly. It's as if he's trying to commit every single curve and inch in Claude's body to his memory. When he finally bottoms out, the most length out of any of them, Claude moans until Sylvain's fingers guide him into a greedy kiss.

Getting fucked by Felix was like running towards the end of a cliff, preparing for the jump only for his partner to jerk him back towards solid ground before he could spiral into weightlessness. With Sylvain, it's just a patient walk there. Every step brings it a little closer, giving his heart time to beat ever faster as he sees it coming. Sylvain must feel it too. His movements are barely contained from the desire to follow Felix's example and take Claude in a whirlwind of lust and movement.

Yet he perseveres, holding Claude close, kissing him to help slow his fervor, and it's coming, he's coming, at long last, he's finally-

Fingers wrap tightly around the base of his length again and Sylvain buries himself all the way inside of him to stay there. Claude isn't sure what noise he makes, exactly, only that it scrapes against his throat and slams into the roof his mouth. It careens out of him, body jolting in what is now becoming an all too familiar agony.

Slight, calloused in a different way from the ones on his hips - it's Felix again. He denies him release, the satisfaction of falling past the edge, and Claude is pretty sure he curses, although he's hardly in the right mind to really think on what he's said. Sylvain grins against his cheek, shameless as always. Claude thrashes in his place best he can while stuck between the world's most teasing couple, but it's no use.

The silk is sturdier than anyone would think it could be, refusing to let him go anywhere else. Down below, Sylvain's hands keep his knees pressed into the pillow, not moving so much as an inch from their position at Claude's hips. Felix... Well, Felix seems perfectly content right where he is, simply refusing to let Claude orgasm. He doesn't have to do much work at all. He's in the perfect position, no doubt, to enjoy the expressions that spasm across Claude's face. If he knows anything about Felix, he must take particular pleasure in Claude's attempt at a glare.

Both of his partners wait for him. They wait until he's no longer right there on the brink. Maybe they have a particular plan in mind. Maybe, even as Claude swears and begs in equal measure, they're plotting in real time how to next torment him. He wouldn't put anything past him.

Yet while he squirms helplessly between the two, Sylvain suddenly jolts against his body with a little gasp. Itcaresses Claude's cheek, and Sylvain's cock grinds just a little more inside of him. Tortured with pleasure like he is, Claude still can't help his curiosity perking up. Now he's not the only one writhing in pleasure, Sylvain's breath stuttering and sometimes stopping entirely. For most of this, Claude has been relatively fine with his hearing being blocked to him, honestly... but now he so desperately wishes that he could hear. That whatever gasps or cries or words Sylvain is saying as he grinds into Claude could land upon his ears.

Yet if they won't even let him orgasm, his lovers absolutely won't take out the earplugs no matter how much he begs. All he can do is whine every time Sylvain moves against him, tiny sparks of pleasure tugging at what threads are still holding Claude together. Maybe he should be glad. Misery loves company, after all.

Unfortunately, he doesn't get to keep his company. Sylvain goes absolutely rigid against him, leaning away from Claude while his release floods through him, joining the slick mess Felix had already left behind. It's a fresh wave of heat, antagonizing his already sensitive prostate, and Claude outright sobs. Below, his cock weeps as well with precome dripping downwards, and gathers at Felix's fingers. Sylvain's grip on his body loosens in his own afterglow, the redhead slumping backwards.

He feels boneless, from what Claude can tell, but that doesn't explain how he can stay upright. At least, it doesn't make sense until Claude thinks on it for half a second. Dimitri must have been teasing him somehow. He's more than sturdy enough to act as a wall for any of his exhausted lovers. With Felix not bothering to hold much at his front, besides the obvious, Claude tries to grind back... but it doesn't help him much. Sylvain is too limp for him to wrest out more proper satisfaction and, even if he weren't? There's not enough room for Claude to properly fuck himself on him.

Words fail him, now. He can't speak, can't beg, can't do anything with his arousal throbbing and heavy between his legs. When Sylvain finally pulls out, there's too much inside his body. The warm release begins to trickle out of his ass, burns a trail down the inside of his thigh. Claude whimpers at the sensation of it, feeling so - so - used. He's not a partner, not like this, just a toy to be fucked into, a toy to be abused, and nothing makes that more clear than the feeling of come leaking out of him.

Gods. He can't get any harder, and yet every passing minute seems determined to prove him wrong.

A couple of minutes pass after Felix leaves him. He's positive that they'll have him to recuperate again for another ungodly amount of time, but Claude's proven wrong when he feels tugging at his wrists. Knuckles brush against his skin, fingers in between the silk and his body. Soon his arm is very gently being lowered. Even with how much pure carnal pleasure is clouding his brain, distorting his thoughts and making even a quick spank to his ass have seemed a delight, there's no denying his arms are sore. The hands along his arm take this into consideration completely, one rubbing gently along his wrist while the other gently massages his arm. This way, the pain doesn't become something sharper and much more unpleasant.

Honestly... Past the frankly unbearable pressure that is his unattended cock, being taken care of like this is nice. Relaxing, beyond his situation. Once his partner is certain that one arm has been tended to properly, he lives it at Claude's side, and begins to untie his remaining one. The thing is, these have been his supports for this entire game. His legs have become too shaky to keep him up. Yet that's also been thought of, and a firm chest rests along his back to give him something to lean against. Honestly, he needs it.

You know what else he needs? A damn orgasm. Yet even if he can't quite think properly, he's clever. Blatantly going right for it will just get him caught and stopped once more. Instead, Claude makes at least an attempt of subtlety, sliding his hand along his hip and side as though testing to make sure he can even still use it. Just a couple of curious twitches from his fingers, a slide of his hand along his hip as if he's checking he can still feel, little things like that. When he's fairly certain his partner's attention must fully be on the silk at his wrist, Claude licks his lip and tries to slide his hand down to his arousal-

A hand wraps around his wrist, different from the ones working on the silk, and Claude groans in mingled frustration and wanton lust. Of course it couldn't be that easy. Of course he still has his other lovers keeping a close eye on him. Probably he's not even as careful as he thought he was being, so impatient with his desire. That doesn't make the disappointment any less. "Just a little," he moans, his other arm slowly lowered for the same treatment as the first. "Let me have it, Felix, please."

No dice. Of course there's no dice with Felix Fraldarius. But Claude did guess right, apparently, because he gets a little treat when Felix leans in to seal his begging lips up with a kiss. Felix doesn't kiss him like Sylvain does, who's all thoroughness and knows the exact ways that will get Claude swooning. He has his own way of doing it, unrelenting, passionate, not letting Claude a second to catch his breath. While it's definitely making his poor cock twitch and ache all the more... Felix's kisses are exactly the kind that keep him distracted.

When Felix finally pulls away, Claude's lips left wet and bruised from the force of his adoration, two pairs of hands gently help him off of his pillow. He's been kneeling for so long, not counting the time when Dimitri held him up, that his feet can barely stay steady. Sylvain keeps him upright, letting him lean against his body still, and Felix takes him by his hands to guide him onto soft rugs. He has no idea if he's dripping his precome down onto the rich and expensive material, but it's the furthest worry from his mind right now. Instead, all he does is rely on Sylvain and Felix to get him where he apparently needs to be.

And where he apparently needs to be is... Holding onto his hands and wrists, Felix makes sure that Claude doesn't walk right into something. When he has the time to adjust, hands allowed to roam so long as they don't go below his waist, he understands immediately where he's at. He's spent many a night in Dimitri's bed, sexually or otherwise... The soft blankets he can feel beneath his palms are more than familiar to him. His breath catches in anticipation of what this means. At his back, Sylvain gently presses, gently encouraging him forward.

Oh... Swallowing hard, he puts both of his hands down against the bed and begins to crawl forward. The pillow did a well enough job, when he was all tied up, a lovely little prop to be admired... but it's nicer to be down on the bed, his weight sinking into the soft material. Claude almost wants to flop over onto his back, spread himself out, shamelessly beg. However, Felix and Sylvain's fingers slide away from him, giving him no further direction, and he knows that he needs to keep moving forward.

So he does, inch by tentative and heart pounding inch. Claude doesn't dare go too fast, or too far. All of this... It feels like he's just waiting for something. Waiting for someone. He has no idea what's going to happen to him, or what he's going to stumble onto, not until his slowly groping fingers finally bump into something.

Freezing up, Claude swallows again, and presses his fingertips forward. It's a knee, hard and noticeable as it presses out against skin, only for the flesh to be softer, firmer, as he ventures upwards. Only a few seconds pass by, and a large hand settles over his own, drawing it higher until it's resting along Dimitri's hip. Another hand presses along the back of Claude's head, gently encouraging him a little more upwards. Claude allows himself to be guided, until he has one hand somewhere right in front of his face.... and closing in around the base of Dimitri's cock.

Sometimes, it's almost embarrassing how easily Dimitri's body sets him off. He likes all of his lovers, don't get him wrong. It's just something about Dimitri that sparks his body to immediate arousal, and that's when he's at a base state. Without his sight, somehow, Dimitri's own length feels even bigger than it ever has... So thick and hot in his hand, the throb of arousal standing out to him as he slowly drags his palm up along it And what a length. Even though he knows how long it is, can sense how far his hand is from his face, it still feels like it could plunge through through him utterly and completely...

His fingers slowly slide along the rim, finding the head, and Dimitri's nails lightly scrape against his scalp. Oh, he understands. With his mouth watering, Claude absolutely understands.

Swallowing again, Claude leans forward and drags the flat of his tongue up along the tip. The smell fills every little inch of his lungs, all of Dimitri plus the headier scent of where his face is at. When Claude swallows for a second time, he shudders at the taste, too: salty and slick. All this teasing, and this... It's not exactly what he wants, not his release. Yet there's something agonizingly wonderful in finally being allowed to touch, if not his own length, then the fully erect one of his partners.

More certain of his position in relation to Dimitri now, he gently nudges it upwards a little more - as though it needs the help - and ducks down to nuzzle against the base of Dimitri's cock. A satisfied sigh leaves him. The flat of his tongue feels so good like this, dragging slowly along the the underside of Dimitri's massive length. He's so firm, the soft velvet sensation heaven to Claude's tongue, and he shivers feeling the occasional vein or a warm pulse. By the time his tongue flicks off the tip again, saliva has coated his chin, and Dimitri's arousal. Judging by the way his fingers have kneaded in Claude's hair... He's pretty sure his royal lover doesn't mind at all.

Well, he's gotten to enjoy himself more than enough like this. Satisfied at least a little, even if it's not the way he wants, Claude gets to working on Dimitri more. He has a lot of tricks, things he knows tug at his lover's lust. He teases with the flat of his tongue, dragging the sensation all over and taking satisfaction in how Dimitri trembles from the force of holding himself back. Occasionally he uses only the tip, both that of his tongue and that of Dimitri's leaking arousal, driving the sensitive area wild while salt coats the back of his throat. So lost in his own arousal, it tastes better than it ought to, and he groans whenever he has to swallow it down.

Every time he does, he feels Dimitri's fingers shake in his hair.

His most daring tricks, of course, involve guiding that nice thick head down to his lips, and feeling the ache in his jaw as he opens his mouth to take his lover in. Sylvain might be the longer between them, just a little, but when it comes to girth? Oh, Dimitri can't be beat there. Truly, it's some sort of divine blessing. Claude scrapes his fingernails against the sheets beneath his knees. It's truly work to holds himself back from touching his erection. Instead, he focuses as his lips go over the ridge, down the thick length of Dimitri.

Oh, he's done it before, made his partners go wild at the sight of him so aroused with their cock in his mouth that he can't stop himself... but the messages he's gotten tonight have been clear.

No touching.

So he bobs his head down and back Dimitri's arousal, feels his own eyes roll back into his head when that heat threatens to breach the back of his throat. It takes a little bit of preparation before he can do what he wants. He has to make sure he has enough air to not choke on Dimitri's girth- delightful as that would be in its own way. But when he finally does... Oh when he finally slides his lips all the way down Dimitri's hot and thick cock, throat spasming around it as it presses deeper, and both of Dimitri's large palms closing in around his head to keep him nuzzled right against the base of him...

Claude whines, holding back on grinding into the sheets beneath his spread legs. That muffled sound is apparently all that's needed to snap through Dimitri's carefully maintained self control. Movement is robbed from him as Dimitri steadies his grip on Claude's head, fucking himself into his mouth, his throat, and all Claude can do is scramble for a hold along Dimitri's body. It's exhilarating, the way Dimitri can move him so effortlessly, use him so neatly, as though he were made for this.

It's equal parts soothing and arousing, the rhythm his lover forcefully establishes, the easy back and forth. Claude thinks he could drift away like this, tears pricking at his eyes and staining his blindfold, Dimitri's cock grinding against his tongue and the back of his mouth... He wants to keep going like this. He wants Dimitri to come straight down his throat, filling him up in an entirely different way than the spend sticking to his thighs and ass.

Fortunately - or unfortunately, in some ways - Dimitri doesn't fill his throat up. The brutal and punishing pace abruptly stops, leaving Claude with that thick cock stuffed all the way down his throat. Dimitri's fingers twitch and tighten in his hair. For a second, Claude can't even understand why.

All he can think of is how hard it is to breathe this way, his lungs straining, heart pounding. Yet soon, with still enough consciousness in his head, he realizes that something has changed Dimitri's grip... or, rather, something is over it, tips brushing along through Claude's hair. Another person's fingers - whether Felix's or Sylvain's, he can't say with so little.

Before his breath can run out, he's dragged off Dimitri's cock slowly, and he gasps for air once he's off of it. All of that has only made him dizzy in arousal again - or maybe that's the rush of air filling his lungs. Distantly, he's aware that his chin and front are absolutely splattered sticky with saliva, a side effect from how quickly and carelessly Dimitri had been fucking his mouth. The knowledge makes him shudder, and he's too preoccupied by that fact to protest it when two different pairs of hands wind around him and pull him back.

Dimitri's bed, as befitting of a king, is huge. There's plenty of room for Claude to be laid backwards, his chest heaving. The smaller hands smooth down his chest, resting along his shoulder and over his stomach. The other pair carefully begin working at Claude's blindfold, not to remove it, but rather simply slip underneath. Despite the care taken, a sliver of light still pierces through, and Claude squeezes his eyes shut. While he fights off the light, still so sensitive, those fingers gently tug the cotton and earplug out from one ear. A shift on the mattress, and the same is done for his other side.

Yet even with only one ear able to take in sound, that's more than enough, and the world suddenly rushes over him. The walls to the king's chamber are thick, along with its door, so he can't hear everything going on in the castle, whatever may be happening there... But outside through the windows, he can hear the distant and muffled sound of owls, calling out to one another. Over him, besides him, he can hear the soft sound of breathing, Sylvain and Felix calmer no doubt after they've had their own fun. And then, in front of him... More labored breathing, the bed softly creaking as Dimitri readjusts himself.

Even more than all of that, however? Claude can finally and properly hear himself. Oh, sure, he's been able to do so on some degree this entire time. His hearing was blocked from the outside world, but inside? The sound from his own chest, the gasps from his own lungs, the feeling of his words and the noises he's made? Those have all stayed with him, merely... muted. Now, well, now it almost stuns him how ragged his own breath is, drawn to pieces after greedily swallowing up Dimitri's length again and again. And that's not even talking about all the ways he was crying out for his lovers before.

There's a faint rustle as Sylvain leans back - probably tossing aside the earplugs to get them out of the way. Somewhere past Claude's legs, something else quietly pops, a sharp intake of air, and a slick wet sound begins to repeat. It's a sound he knows well. So well that he can't help dig his teeth into his lips and spread his legs. For a moment, he thinks that he might be stopped again... but he isn't.

Instead, he hears a low chuckle from his side, where Felix is knelt besides him. One hand shifts away from his stomach to follow the curve of his hip, down his thigh. There, fingers press right up into the swell of his ass. While Claude's legs are a little shaky still, they can do this much. Following Felix's unspoken demands, he draws his knee up and reaches down.

At least the ability to move his hands has managed to come back to him after all this time. Crawling on the bed, clinging to Dimitri - just that's been enough. It means he has no trouble in reaching down to grip his own ass with one hand. He does the same with his other hand, once both knees are up.

An offering of himself, completely and utterly, so that he can finally get release.

It's not only him offering himself. Claude gasps, the broken sound grinding against his own ears from the roughness of it, as another hand slots over his. It offers a bit more strength as it digs into his soft skin. The mattress dips around him, Sylvain adjusting himself again so that his hand can be the one to settle on Claude's other.

Together with Felix, they gently heft him up a little more, exposing more of his sloppy and dripping hole, still filled with their combined seed. Felix digs his nails more into the sore flesh of Claude's ass. On his other side, Sylvain's voice teases into Claude's ear, now that there's nothing stopping it from reaching him.

"C'mon, Claude... You wanna come, don't you? You want to come on His Majesty's nice hot cock, don't you?" He laughs softly under his breath when Claude groans brokenly, squeezing his fingers down between the gaps of Claude's own. "But you have to tell him what you want... if you really need it so bad."

Gods, he loves how Sylvain's voice drops: that low smug purr, heavy in its dark lust even though he's spent himself inside of Claude's body already. He's pretty sure Felix loves it too. Even hazy with his own carnal passions, he hears how breath on the other side of him stutters and catches. Well, even so, Sylvain's not wrong. If he wants something... He should ask for it.

Weakly, he tries to pull at his ass a little more, spread it nice and wide so that Dimitri can see just what a wrecked mess Sylvain and Felix left him. The same two people who sense what he's trying to do, and "help" by digging their fingers in even more. When he thinks of what an image he must make, what Dimitri must be thinking of him... Claude groans, cock twitching. He's so close to the edge... and now, he might just get to fall off of it. It's so close, he can't do anything else but succumb to temptation, moaning to the one partner who's yet to come in him.

"Mitya... Please. Take me, take everything you want from me, Mitya. Shake me apart while I'm all stretched out for you, fuck Felix and Sylvain out of me, fill me up instead-"

He could keep going. Oh how Claude could keep going, with his own clever tongue worked to a razor sharp point from desperate and almost violent need. But before he can finish, fingers wrap around his hips, and Dimitri's cock grinds into him for only a half second before he thrusts all the way in. There's no hesitation, no slowness - no reason for it when he's already so spread and wet for him like this. He just slams as far as he can do, fully buried, and Claude's back arches, electric, as a wail tears out of his throat to bounce against the ceiling of the Fodlan king's bedroom.

For what must have been hours, he's been teased and toyed with and fucked into so badly that his whole body can't help but spasm, sensitive to the utmost degree, around Dimitri's cock. His lover groans at the feeling, fingers digging in just a little harder. It's more than enough to trap Claude perfectly in place as he pulls out to begin slamming into him again and again. The thickness of him, the length, it all ensures that he hits exactly the right spot, sending Claude writhing.

At some point - he has no idea when, can't even consider when - Sylvain and Felix let go of his ass. He's left to scramble at the sheets desperately, voice going hoarse with every rough thrust. Something bony presses against his shoulder, and then there's warmth against his arm and side - Felix's body, it has to be, although the thought doesn't form coherently in his head. All he knows is that he knows, from the experience of the other teasing him all this time. Even as he's being fucked so thoroughly, Felix presses over him, chest to Claude's stomach-

Claude jerks his spine into a hard curve again, crying out, as he feels Felix fingers close around the base of his cock and those lips do the same around the very tip. It's enough to make him start sobbing again, hands scrambling - over Dimitri's hands, into Felix's hair. If he's even speaking actual words, he has no idea. It's just babbling, broken and shattered into nothing with every thrust, every suck. With that impossible strength of his, Dimitri ensures that he can't find release either way. Felix only growls when he tugs at his hair, the sound rattling down his length and into the very core of him. His tears soak through the blindfold, sticking it to his face, but he barely thinks of it.

Indulgent fingers stroke through his hair, cup his face. Sylvain's voice rolls into his ears, a soft lull, but the words are indistinct. Still, they serve as a sufficient distraction. Claude reaches for him blindly, clawing at his arms.

He's going to lose it, he swears. His mind has been shattered and dropped into the abyss from the pleasure that's overwhelming him, a tidal wave drowning him with no chance of getting back to shore, of breaching the surface for the sweet release air would bring him. That metaphor might be even more on point than one would initially think, too. He's so sensitive, falling apart so easily under this onslaught, that he almost feels like he really can't breathe.

Him and Dimitri have made love so many times before that, now, he knows the tells to signal the imminent orgasm. The low growls that sometimes slip out at his most bestial grow all the more intense. Claude can feel the way his well maintained body curves over him while his hands shake at Claude's hips. That all of his lovers might come before him, that they might leave him a mess soaked with come and his own arousal still aching against his stomach- the thought has him toss his head to the side, nose and lips finding Sylvain's knee as he cries out.

Yet even with his situation, even with Felix's fingers locked around him so easily.... An orgasm suddenly rocks through his body, his world lit up by starbursts even with the blindfold wrapped tight around his eyes. Claude opens his lips to scream, to cry out, to call Dimitri's name - but no noise leaves him. His entire body shakes with a sound not made, spine curving sharply in Dimitri's hands, before he falls limp with one more ragged gasp. There's the distant sound of a pop, Felix leaving his length abandoned... but it's only for a second. While Claude shakes against Sylvain's legs, he feels those fingers loosen around his length.

Oh. The parts of Claude's mind that have cleared just enough to form coherent thought again feel some distinct horrified delight. He's still hard. He's still half hard, his orgasm just now brought forth from his prostate, not his erection, and that means-

There's not even time to finish that thought. At the same time that Dimitri thrusts fully inside of him, his own orgasm flooding through Claude's body, Felix rolls Claude's still erect cock into his mouth again and gives one final hard suck.

Still in the middle of coming down from one orgasm, only to be vaulted right into a second one - it's a miracle he doesn't pass out right there and then. Hell, Claude actually might have passed out. His world goes completely white, smashing every bit of his mind until it's nothing more than shreds upon shreds hanging loosely in his own skull. The world becomes nothing more than disjointed sound and sensation and touch.

Voices murmur in his direction, sometimes almost words, sometimes nothing more than white noise. Occasionally, there's a sensation that's just a little too much for his overworked body, and Claude does - something, unable to really tell what, and the sensation very quickly fades, retreats.

When time finally begins to have meaning again, his position on the bed has changed. Instead of laying sprawled out carelessly along the sheets, a pillow has delicately been placed underneath his head. His body feels just faintly a little cooler in the way that only happens when a damp cloth has gone over him. Conversation is now a little bit clearer, too, although it's hard to understand right away - not because they aren't clear enough to form words, but because his mind is just too freshly fucked to go through the work of translating Fodlan in his head. Before he can properly get to that point, the voices all come to an abrupt stop, and the pressure around the mattress begins to shift.

One side in particular makes the most movement, coming closer to him, and fingers light gently along his shoulder. The voice says something, and fortunately it's so one-syllable that Claude can work through it. You know, after a minute.

"Hey." Felix's voice, careful and soft in that way it rarely ever gets except for times like these. Felix waits a moment longer, waits to make sure that Claude won't shudder immediately underneath his touch, waits for Claude's head to roll over and face him in acknowledgment. That seems to be enough for him, and his tone loses some of the softness. Only some. "Well, he really fucked the mind right out of you, since it took you along enough to start moving on your own. Are we good to touch the rest of you?" Testingly, his fingers roam along Claude's shoulder and up a little more to rest on his cheek. It's only the very fingertips, just a ghost's breath away from pulling away entirely.

Talking is honestly just so much effort right now... And the haze in his mind is comfortable, soft. With Felix, he feels nothing but completely safe and happy, too... So are words really needed right now? All Claude does is sigh, his face nudging a little more towards Felix's touch. Right now... It's all he wants. Just a touch, and Felix's voice soft in his ear.

Off to the side, he can hear the familiar warm sound of Sylvain's chuckle, and there's the distant creak of the bed that Claude is fairly certain comes from the very edge. "Go on, Felix," Dimitri says, so soft that no one would have ever imagined him to be making those low dark growls as he'd nearly fucked Claude into a coma.

Fucked out of his mind though he may be, Claude can still imagine the shy scowl Felix is likely wearing for the beat of silence that follows. Still, he presses his palm against Claude's face so sweetly that he's pretty sure all the other fine details don't really matter. "Hey. We're going to take the blindfold off now. Is that alright?" Then, after a moment where it's likely Felix isn't certain Claude can still understand Fodlan, he clarifies, "Do you think you'll be ready for it?"

If he's honest, he has no idea if he's ready or not... but that's a positive sign all on its own, he thinks. That he can think at all. So Claude sighs, still nuzzling into Felix's palm, and mumbles some sort of vague affirmative. That quickly becomes a negative when Felix starts to pull away, and he hears a soft snort filled with fond exasperation.

"We have to pick you up to get you to the bathroom eventually, you realize. And how do you think we're going to get the blindfold off in the first place?"

Claude has absolutely no answer to that right now, mostly because he doesn't want to spare the brain energy for one. He just wants to press against Felix's hand again, smiling in a way he hopes is very sweet and playful but probably just makes him look heavily drugged.

There's Sylvain's chuckle again, and pressure lifts from the bed only to press down again on Claude's other side. "It's alright, Fe. I got it. Let's keep him happy for right now." Sylvain has good fingers, too. In no time at all, he's undone the knot that's kept the blindfold securely in place. He gently lifts Claude's head up with one hand. The other takes on the task of unwinding the cloth from around Claude's head, a trip it's gone on more than a few times in order to make sure that his vision has been completely black.

The unexpected benefit to this is that the light of the room doesn't come sweeping in all at once. It's slow, gradual, bits and pieces making themselves known through the cloth as each layer is unwound. By the time the blindfold is pulled off completely, a soft slide of cloth against his skin, Claude only has to blink a couple of times.

Soon his eyesight has adjusted, and he can see Dimitri's room completely for the first time in a while. That's nothing special, nothing unique - the same warm glow rolling from the massive fireplace throughout the same immense room over the same elegant furniture made to withstand Blaiddyd strength over the years.

Much more important to Claude are the people he can see for the first time in ages. He lets his eyes lazily roam, the soft crackle of the fireplace drawing out a contentment in him.

Felix is still seated besides him, an absolutely stunning sight in the rare show of open gentleness as he rubs his thumb along Claude's cheek. He's always been secretly soft, deep down on the inside; Claude has known this even if he's not a childhood friend of the man with an apparent history of being a crybaby child. Right now, it seems to show especially bright - something in the sunset warm amber of his eyes, the way his loose hair falls in soft cascades around his face and shoulders. When he notices Claude's gaze focusing on him, he adjusts his hand, cupping his face a little more fully.

A slight movement from behind him catches Claude's attention, a brilliant blaze of red. It still takes him a slight moment before he manages to turn his head - still in Felix's palm - to look over his shoulder just enough for a better view. What greets him is Sylvain's own brilliant smile, the other man somehow finding it a lot easier to be open with his emotions despite having just as many issues on the matter as Felix does.

"Hey there, beautiful," he says playfully, tossing aside the blindfold so that it flutters somewhere out of sight. Next to the earplugs, probably. This leaves his hand free to slide through Claude's hair, fingers gently pushing his curls out of his face where tears and sweat cling. It's nice. This is all nice.

There's only one thing that's missing, and it takes a bit of searching, a bit of almost drifting away back to sleep, before his gaze finds him. Dimitri... Oh, Dimitri. There he is, on his knees, arms crossed atop his mattress while his chin rests on them, waiting by Claude's feet like an loyal pet. He'd personally never call his loyal lover a beast, or a dog, or anything else that Dimitri often refers to himself in his more self deprecating moments...

But he still has to admit there's something so nice about how Dimitri will wait for him so loyally, so lovingly, looking at Claude as though he's a blessing given physical form even though he's laying there, dripping come onto Dimitri's sheets, face covered in sweat and tears and spit, a boneless mess.

"Mitya," he mumbles, forming words with some amount of clarity, and it absolutely kills him inside to see how Dimitri lights up like the harvest moon.

It's a little hard to keep his eyes open after that, a little hard to stay awake, but he manages just long enough to feel Dimitri's palm slide along his legs reassuringly, and hear his words. "I'm going to pick you up now, Claude. You'll be alright, my star. We're here."

And they are. That's the lovely thing, and which allows him to drift away so neatly.

He doesn't stay asleep for very long, honestly. When he tries, he's woken by the sensation of something sliding inside of him again, sliding into his sore and sloppy hole. That sure as hell makes Claude jolt fully back into awareness, whereupon he realizes two things.

The first is that he's actually been semi-conscious for a while, vaguely aware of how he'd been carried in Dimitri's sturdy grip, how even now Sylvain is holding him up with his arms around his waist so that he can sit in an upright position. The second is that Dimitri is in fact a single knuckle deep into him, and has already stopped, using his other hand to gently stroke one of his legs. "There, Claude. We're here. It's alright."

For a few moments, that's all Sylvain and Dimitri do, gently pet him, tell him it's alright. Claude almost doesn't understand them, sometimes, but their tones are perfect, easing him back into Sylvain's embrace. He only shivers, frail whimpers and gasps falling from his lips, when Dimitri continues his work. His finger patiently cleans out the come that's been loaded into his so-sensitive hole, something that's not too hard at the beginning with how much had been released into him, but takes a little more effort as time goes on. It shakes Claude's mind apart a little bit until his body eventually adjusts. He still jerks, or twitches, but now not so intensely. At some point - he hardly knows when - it ends and he drifts back to sleep even as he's being passed over from Sylvain's hands to Felix's.

When he awakens again, for real this time instead of still a quarter unconscious, it's slow, lazy, with water that's just warm enough around him. There's the pleasant buzz of conversation around his ears, but it pauses abruptly when he shifts in place. Ah, he knows this feeling well. Humming in contentment, Claude turns his head to nuzzle up against Dimitri's oh-so-fine chest.

There's a light scoff from nearby that he can recognize as Felix's anywhere, but it's Sylvain who speaks up, amusement laced throughout his words. "Oh, so is our sleeping beauty finally awake, or should we give you a little while longer?"

"It depends," Claude says mildly, wiggling a little closer against Dimitri. What can he say? "Will giving me a little while mean that I don't have to move from Dimtiri's divinely blessed chest?"

There's a slight shift underneath him that he knows without looking is Dimitri hunching up his shoulders. No doubt he has that adorable blush on his face. "I think you overly praise the status of my torso sometimes," he tells him, which just makes Claude laugh quietly.

"Oh, I think I'm not praising it nearly enough," he tells him, and finally opens his eyes with a particularly indulgent laziness. Dimitri's baths are just as enormous as they always are, he's pleased to note, with various candles lit about so that things are visible but not so bright as to hurt his eyes. After all, he's been asleep for a while, and blindfolded before then for much longer. The bath is especially nice, so enormous that it can fit all four of them comfortably and then possibly even a little more if they really wanted to.

The thing is... Claude is pretty sure none of them really want to. Even as he snuggles up against Dimitri's chest some more, making himself comfortable instead of just held up by one strong arm, the blond is adjusting himself as well. On the opposite end of the tub, where Claude can feel their feet brushing against each other's legs, Sylvain and Felix have nestled together too. Honestly, that's simply inevitable when it comes to them. Sylvain can't help but have his hands all over Felix, like now as he draws his fingers through that slick long hair, and Felix absolutely indulges it because he loves it too.

Once upon a time, he used to wonder if they needed anyone else, whenever he'd glanced at them across the training yard on the rare days they all were there together. Back then, Sylvain always used to chase after Felix, no matter how sword-focused and training obsessed the latter was to the dismissal of just about everything else. He knows better now, of course. If anything, he gets a firsthand experience of how that's not true as he takes in the sharp and careful way Felix is looking over him, searching for any unwanted bruise or sign of pain.

When he realizes that Claude is watching him, some red stains his cheeks in a way that has nothing to do with the heat of the water, and his mouth twists in embarrassment. "We looked over you before getting you in the bath," he informs Claude regardless, not a bristle in sight. "But you should be fine. Still, tell us if you start aching anywhere."

"That's a funny question to ask me, Felix, considering how much you absolutely destroyed my ass," Claude tells him, eyes shining in amusement. "Did you take into consideration how I probably can make denture molds from the marks you've left in my legs, or my absolutely sore butt cheeks?"

Felix's mouth twitches a little at the corners, a near smirk, before he coolly tilts his head towards Sylvain. "If you want to blame anyone for the latter, then that was all Sylvain's fault-" Raucous laughter interrupts him, and Sylvain tugs him closer by the shoulders. His wide grin presses into Felix's hair.

"Oh, no you don't, Fe." Sylvain's eyes sparkle as he looks over to Claude himself. "This absolute sadist was the one who kept encouraging me to it... I wasn't too sure at first, but, boy, Claude... I can't deny you made some really sexy sounds every time." He winks playfully, as though that can hide the dark interest curling in his gaze.

It's a good thing he's already been thoroughly spent, because that is enough to make something flicker deep inside him... but it's a weak sensation, not nearly as powerful as Claude's own laugh. "Oh no, Felix is corrupting Sylvain again," he teases, which makes Sylvain laugh harder.

Felix makes a face, nose scrunched up. Somehow, he's yet to realize how cute it makes him. "Oh please. As though he needs any corrupting."

Laughing even more, Sylvain wraps his arms around his shorter lover, and begins to pepper kisses along his ear, down to his jaw, the side of his neck. "Mm... Do you- Mm, do you think I'm a corrupting influence on you, babe?"

"You're a pain in my ass is what you are."

"Oh, I hope I'm in your ass in more ways than one..."

While Sylvain and Felix are almost disgustingly cuddly and flirty and every bit a couple, the absolute monsters, Dimitri finally shifts at Claude's back, and he looks up to his blond lover. Sometimes, it's still a little disorienting when he looks up into Dimitri's face. He can still remember when they were in school once upon a time, and he'd glance over everyone with a smile on those soft lips and his eyes, plural, so radiantly blue. But in the bath, he takes his eyepatch off so that he doesn't ruin it in the water, and that emptiness is impossible to ignore.

So Claude doesn't, smiling as he reaches up to gently cradle that side of Dimitri's face face while he meets that one eyed gaze straight on. There's no reason, in his opinion, to flinch away from his lover like this. "What's on your mind, Mitya?" he asks, sliding away some of that long blond hair so that it can be tucked behind one of Dimitri's ears.

It's a relatively new nickname, different than the fond childhood "Dima" Sylvain so often likes to use, and yet it never fails in making Dimitri melt every single time that Claude has ever used it. He melts now, the sturdiness of his shoulders softening and his eye so full of adoration that it almost feels as though it will spill over until Claude drowns from it. Sometimes, it feels like he does drown from it. "I know those two got distracted," Dimitri says, once he's gotten control of himself, "but I do want to make sure, you know. You really are okay?"

Gods, sometimes he wonders if he can love Dimitri more than he does every day, because it feels as though his heart always burns with it during moments like these. Claude smiles gently, rubbing his thumb along Dimitri's cheek. "I feel pretty alright now, thanks to the water," he says. "Still, it may take a little while to say for sure... Mind helping me get a good look at myself?"

Now that he's had a little bit of time to recuperate from being bound up with silk and fucked to an inch of his life, Claude isn't so shook up that he's utterly incapable of moving around. Still, a bit of help isn't entirely unwanted. He's pretty sure that his three lovers all fussed over him while he was unconscious, because his arms and legs don't hurt nearly as much as he would have otherwise thought... but some things, like stretching, are things only he can do while fully conscious.

Dimitri is happy to help. He's more than happy, actually, gently helping brace Claude or guide his body along in his stretches. When they all first started this rougher sort of play, these more adult games, Claude had wondered how each of his lovers would adapt to it. In Dimitri's case, the answer is that he's still a little hesitant in some areas, like when he'd let Sylvain take the lead on spanking Claude... but for all the care that has to happen afterwards? He absolutely shines, adoring the ability to take care of and pamper his lovers, the people he cares for with all of his too-big heart.

Where the silk had been wrapped around his wrists, the only thing still remaining are faint flushed marks that Claude are fairly certain have long side faded in intensity, which Dimitri confirms for him. Knots can be a tricky thing, but his lovers had taken care to ensure they wouldn't cut circulation off of his wrists. Seeing the state of his own ass is impossible, at least if he doesn't want to leave a huge wet trail all the way to the enormous bathroom mirror. Dimitri confirms for him that it does look like it's going to bruise, however, with a sort of mingled sheepishness and excitement to his tone.

Well. That is part of the appeal.

He's propped himself up by his elbows for this particular inspection, back curved so that his ass is pressing into Dimitri's palms so temptingly, when he feels another hand follow the flow of his spine. Glancing back over his shoulder, he meets Sylvain's gaze with a grin. "Touchy~," he says, sing-song, before something else catches his attention, and his grin drops. "Oh, shit- Sylvain, let's put me to the side and talk about you, are you alright?"

The reason he has to ask is because, now that he can see Sylvain without Felix in the way, brilliant red scratch marks absolutely cover the redhead's pale arms. Where they come from, well, that's obvious. Claude has to admit that some of his more detailed memories are a little hazy; that's what happens when you get the smarts fucked right out of you. But he can distinctly remember, in the last moments, holding onto someone tightly and scrambling at them...

Fortunately, Sylvain winks and holds up one hand for a quick little wiggle. "Hey, no worries. I mean, it would have been better if you'd gotten to mark up my back so that the story could outright tell itself... but this might work out even better for me on the boasting front. I mean, everyone can see my arms most of the time, but if I tried to strip to show I helped drive my lover so out of his mind with pleasure that he dug into me and clung? Ingrid would challenge me to a duel for the honor of everyone else in the castle."

"And in case you can't believe him because he tends to brush off anything that hurts him," Felix says, lounging in all the free space he now has, "then believe me. I double checked everything, and he'll be fine while he gets to boast all he wants." He and Claude establish eye contact, then, and there's an unspoken understanding between both of them. They both know that, for all his ribbing and jokes, Sylvain absolutely won't go out of his way to show off the marks on his arms.

In fact, the opposite is more likely to happen. None of them are like the people Sylvain used to carelessly date, back when they were in school. Now that he's stopped habits so bad they hurt both people involved, now that he's gotten himself into actual relationships that he feels he can actually trust without feeling it will be inevitable that he's being used... He hoards affection and their symbols of it close to his chest.

It's rather cute, in all honesty. Sweet. But they'll both let him get away with jokes like this, especially since at this point it's probably just an inconsequential little habit, his joking.

"Besides, there's another unexpected bonus," Sylvain says smugly, sliding his hands off of Claude's body so that he can recline his back against the tub now that ass inspection has been completed. "You're not the only one getting pampered tonight, Claude."

A grin starts to spread across Claude's face. "Oh?"

Sylvain flashes him another wink before looking over to Dimitri. "Hey, Dima. Kiss 'em all better for me again, I think they're aching some more."

Dimitri clicks his tongue. "Honestly, you're getting terribly spoiled, Sylvain." And yet he still takes Sylvain by the hand. He does it so delicately, with the way his fingers fold around him, stretching his arm out until Sylvain's wrist is at Dimitri's chin. Then and only then does Dimitri start to spoil him once again, his lips pressing softly and reverently on ever little centimeter of reddened skin.

While Sylvain may have been the one to get this particular ball rolling, having it actually happen... This time it's his turn to fall apart into pieces, and he sighs, allowing Dimitri to pull him ever closer while those lips begin to move past the ends of his scratch marks, up to his shoulders, his neck. Claude doesn't hold back his enormous grin, instead pulling his knees up and out of the way as the two get tangled up in one another.

Like a caring lover, Felix raises a foot out of the water to nudge Sylvain further into Dimitri's arms and thus out of his way. "This is what I've had to deal with the entire time you've been knocked out by boar dick," he informs Claude as he himself makes his way around the edge of the bath.

Once Felix is close enough, Claude wastes no time in pressing up against the side of him, resting his head along the swordsman's shoulder. "Oh, poor you," he says slyly. "Having to deal with two men who love you most in the world, lavishing affection on you and I."

The red that flourishes along Felix's cheeks is a very different red than what's on Sylvain's arms. "I was thinking about them being sappy with one another."

"Hm? So you weren't ravished with adoring kisses from Dimitri, or had Sylvain murmur how much he adores you in your ear?"

Felix jabs his elbow into his side, a little habit that Claude has managed to adjust to over the years he's been a part of this relationship. "You really should have been gagged," he informs him, although they all know the reason he wasn't. Robbing away Claude's voice for this kind of play is something that Dimitri and Sylvain are still not entirely prepared for, worried that they won't be able to realize that he's hurting if he doesn't have a way to vocalize it. "So."

Readjusting himself against Felix's shoulder, Claude opens up one eye to glance up at him. "Hm? So what?"

There's a brief second where Felix is clearly struggling, but he gets the words out regardless. "So... How was that? All of it. Was it exactly what you wanted, when you first asked us to try this kind of game? With us calling the shots?"

Felix's consideration of him, so clumsy even at its softest and most sincere, never fails to make Claude's heart do a little something in his chest. From the corner of his eye, he can see Sylvain and Dimitri pause as well, the latter adjusting the former against his chest. All their attention is on his answer. His lovers really are too adorable sometimes.

Well, consideration like that deserves some appreciation, if you ask him. Lovingly, he reaches up, fingers sliding along Felix's jaw before he cups his face properly and guides him down for a kiss. Felix is a fierce and passionate lover in his kisses, but sometimes, like now... he allows something slower, something to savor.

"It was perfect," Claude murmurs once he pulls away, only allowing a small bit of space between them as he keeps Felix close. "Exactly what I wanted... although, I will remind you that I didn't explicitly ask for anything, besides being tied up while the rest of you had your way with me." He grins a little more. "Everything that went into making it perfect was what all of you did that were your own ideas. Although while we're talking about all of that.... I am curious on if you planned this ahead of time, or if there were some behind the scenes conversation happening while I couldn't see or hear it."

Felix shrugs. "We talked out a rough idea of things-" he begins, only to be interrupted as Sylvain bursts into sudden laughter, clinging to Dimitri for support. "Hey."

"Come on, Fe." Wheezing for air a little bit, Sylvain looks up from where he's hanging off Dimitri's shoulders with a wide grin. "Yeah, we did plan out more than a little bit of it - you were always going to get fucked by Dima last, Claude, I know how much you like something that big, and it only makes sense - but the rest of it?" He laughs a little more, undeterred by Felix's embarrassed glaring.

Well, maybe it's his love for cuddling after sex, and maybe it's also a little bit of his curiosity as he grins right back at Sylvain. "Well you can't just leave the story there, Sylvain."

"He can, and he better if he knows what's good for him."

"Felix, you realize that the more you protest, the more curious I get, don't you?" Claude grins up at him again, shoulders shaking in silent laughter at the way Felix's nose crinkles and his lips twist in annoyance.

"It was just more stupid nonsense. There's nothing impressive about it."

"Felix had very particular ideas on how some things should go," Dimitri finally interjects, having been content to watch this amusing little shitshow sideshow. "While some of our pauses were very intentional, so that you had time to recover-"

"So that you had time to torture me, more like," Claude murmurs, and doesn't miss the self-satisfied smirk which briefly appears on Felix's lips.

Dimitri definitely heard him say that, but he continues to go on as though he didn't. "-other times we were rather preoccupied on- well, there's no polite way to put it-"

"We were bickering," Sylvain says, laughter still in his voice. "Or, at least, Felix had very specific ideas on how we should do things and in what direction we should go." His eyes glitter in amusement. "Well, at one point he was outright scolding Dima for not sticking to the plan, and so he banned him for a little while."

While Claude bursts out in absolutely wild cackling, Felix only snorts. "I wasn't wrong in doing that, either, was I? A boar that can't keep his snout out of the way doesn't get to partake."

Dimitri doesn't even argue that point. It is extremely likely, from what Claude remembers of a couple of rounds, that he can't, because all he does is hunch up his shoulders awkwardly and cough into one palm. "I couldn't help it," he says weakly. "Claude is too great a temptation. You heard the noises he made-"

"How he moaned your name, jerked your chain around, and had you running almost immediately," Sylvain points out playfully, pulling himself up along Dimitri's shoulders so that he can start nuzzling and kissing along the side of Dimitri's face with a wide grin. "Yes, trust us, we heard, Dima. Well, not that I can blame you." He winks over at Claude. "If I heard an absolutely debauched and desperate Claude calling my name and asking me to fuck him, I'd have a hard time holding back myself."

"I'm flattered I have such an effect on you all," Claude purrs, even as Felix points an accusing finger to their two taller lovers.

"The next time we do this, Claude isn't going to be the only one tied up," he threatens. "I'll practically chain you to a pair of chairs yourself, and watch as I fuck him all on my own. Watch me."

The reaction is possibly not the one that Felix was aiming for, considering the way Dimitri slowly perks up at the concept, and Sylvain's gaze goes distant for a hot second as he visualizes it no doubt perfectly in his mind. Or maybe it's exactly what he was aiming for. Felix can be an incredibly contrary person, a little thing that occasionally makes him hard to read. Licking his lips, Sylvain says, "I don't think I'd mind that, if you wore nothing but those thigh high boots..."

Imperiously, with all the confidence that has nothing to do with him being a duke and everything to do with him being Felix Fraldarius, he tilts his chin up and smirks. "Yeah, I'll wear nothing but those boots... and I'll keep you blindfolded, too."

Sylvain looks like he's been told there is no goodness in the world and also he's not getting a puppy. "Fe. I want to see it, or else there's no point-!"

"Maybe I'll just describe it to you, how I'm wearing them, what I'm doing in them. I bet it would drive you up the wall, if you heard me click the heels right against the floor."

Wiggling a little bit closer to Claude's other side, Dimitri smiles down at him. "I think you ended up awakening something terrible in him," he says playfully, leaning down so that he can press a kiss against Claude's temple. "But I'm glad that we were able to do things you liked so much. I've been worrying the entire day if it would land right."

Leaving Felix's shoulder for just a brief moment, Claude cups Dimitri's face and returns his kiss by planting one right along that strong jaw. "With how carefully all of you think on things like this, and how much you love me," he says against his skin, "I never had any doubts at all." One more kiss, and then he sinks back down against Felix.

After all, while he was the one who got tied up, used, and teased to an endless degree, Claude has also had the benefit of just outright falling unconscious for what he's pretty sure is a not insignificant amount of time, although he doesn't think it's probably added up to more than twenty minutes all together. That means his body has had time to recuperate, basically restarting him as though he'd woken up in the morning all over again. The gentleness of his partners, how they've helped to set him up for this state with cleaning him and talking to him... That's also helped, a great deal.

But his three lovers need comfort as well, after going so intensely. Dimitri, from the outside, would seem like an obvious mark, he knows. Certainly there's a rougher side of him, the 'monster' he's so wary of, who he needs the help of others to take just enough chains off of it so that he can find some release and also realize that it's only a part of him and nothing more. Yet Sylvain and Felix know that, too. They're aware he needs comfort, and affection, and skin contact. With that knowledge well known, it means that there's always at least one set of eyes on him to make sure he's happy and stable.

So there's no need to worry about Dimitri in that regard, or at least worry about him the most. A reasonable amount, you know. No, in the end, it's Sylvain and Felix who are the ones to be concerned about, with their tendency to hide things, act tough.

Sylvain does it because he lied for so long that it's second nature, that he felt he had to be the casual relaxed one no one needed to worry about because he thought his friends had all suffered a lot more and they needed the attention far more than he did. Felix's issues were always meant to be a little more self-serving, from what Claude can tell and what Dimitri has told him: grow a hard skin and thorns so that people stay away, so that he didn't get hurt again, so that he could be something different from the weaker person he was before.

Both were the misguided attempts of children growing into adults, trying to fix things on their own, in their own way, so Claude can't fault them for that... and they have gotten a lot better ever since the war ended. Definitely they have while this relationship has lasted.

But old habits die hard. Even if Sylvain and Felix are both better at looking after each other, they'll still often put themselves secondary to look after other people. That's especially true in this relationship, and for games like the one that they've just played. Claude is pretty sure that Dimitri has already been looking after Sylvain more than enough, considering the way he's been tending the marks on Sylvain's arms, so that's good.

For Felix... Well, for Felix, Claude just sinks against his side comfortably, a physical reminder that he has someone, and he feels his lover lean back into him as well, shoulders slumping a little more at ease again. "We should start getting clean before we all forget," Felix says idly, arm slipping around Claude's back and his hand settling along his waist. It's a quiet bit of possessiveness, and Claude loves it. "Or at least before the water starts to get anything but warm, or else you'll start complaining about Fhirdiad cold, won't you?"

Claude groans, and it's not the sexy kind either. Gently, he thuds his head against Felix's shoulder. "Why did you have to remind me of how the weather is up here?" he says mournfully. "Getting from here to the bedroom is going to be torture."

"While that may be true," Sylvain says, leaning around Dimitri with an amused tilt to his lips, "you've been saying that everything we've been doing to you tonight has been torture, Claude. I think the word has become maybe just a liiiiiittle overused."

Patiently, Dimitri waits for Claude to stop splashing water over at a laughing Sylvain before he reaches down, searching through the water until he can entwine their hands together. "Was the room really too cold?" he asks, so sincerely it aches. "I made sure that there were more than enough logs in the fire, and I don't think we were too far from it..."

"You know he's complaining to complain," Felix says, before Claude can even say anything.

Claude nudges him in the side. "Excuse you," he says. "At least wait for me to start complaining before you complain about my complaining." Sylvain starts laughing again, and Felix rolls his eyes. With that said, he looks back to Dimitri and squeezes his hand, smiling. "And you don't have to worry, Mitya. The fireplace was plenty warm and, even when it might not have been... The three of you more than made up for it."

A light dusting of pink spreads along Dimitri's cheeks at the blatant come on, despite the fact that they've all just had the most marvelous sex session together, but he manages to smile after a brief second. "Then I am quite glad to get you all hot and bothered."

Sylvain whistles. "He can be taught!" he says, and just grins when Dimitri turns his head to literally "hush" at him before everything is swallowed up in a quick kiss.

"You know, I was being serious when I said we all needed to wash up," Felix comments dryly, finally pulling away from Claude himself. It only lasts for a quick moment, however, as he simply fetches a bar of soap laying nearby along the floor.

Curious to a fault as always, Claude can't help but straighten up to lean a little more against Felix once his lover returns, looking over the soap curiously. "Oh, that's the new kind that's been said to have started circulating, isn't it?" he asks. It's a more pleasant and soft color than some of the soaps he remembers when he first stepped inside Fodlan; Almyra has its own ways of cleaning its people. "I've heard about it. It's quite a nice product, or so they say."

Trust work and commerce talk to be that which has Dimitri perk back up towards the conversation at hand, and he pulls away from Sylvain to point at it. "Oh, yes, the merchant who created it actually arranged a visit with nobility and myself to try and show it off. I believe they wanted a sponsor. It smells really quite lovely, honestly, although this is the first time that I'm using it. I've always had to keep my cleaning relatively brief..."

Claude clicks his tongue. "I told you not to overwork yourself to death, Mitya."

"Don't worry, we've been helping out." Sylvain chuckles, working around Dimitri so that he's in front of Claude now. "It would be embarrassing if two of the people meant to help the king out so much started slacking off too. Well, it's not as if Felix would let us." He holds his hand out to the lover in question, accepting the soap so that he can start to lather it up too.

"See, that would be quite reassuring, if the three of you didn't have a combined bad habit," Claude counters, "of Dimitri picking up more work than he can possibly handle, so Sylvain starts subtly working behind the scene to pick up things in order for Dimitri to not work, which has Felix, while I admit also complaining at you, pick up various smaller tasks so that you two don't have to do them." Reaching back, he flicks one of Felix's ears.

Dimitri and Sylvain at least have the ability to look mildly sheepish at being called out so thoroughly. All Felix does is shrug, accepting it, and says, "We've gotten better. Besides, you think the boar would be allowed to overwork himself at all when Dedue is around? Ingrid sends us letters every other month as well, when she isn't here in person to yell at us for being stupid. I think Ashe likes it. Now give me your arm."

Chuckling, Claude obliges him, and admires and adores in equal measure the gentle way Felix laces their fingers together so that he can stretch Claude's arm out. "Aw, nothing says romantic appreciation like adoring the sight of your partner yelling at people all the things you've also been saying the entire time, but louder, and with more authority," he chuckles. "Right, Sylvain?" The two of them exchange a look, grinning, while Felix just rolls his eyes again while his soapsud covered fingers begin to gently massage along Claude's shoulder and steadily move down further. It's absolutely heavenly.

"Hey, doesn't everyone love the sight of someone genuinely passionate?" Sylvain asks, passing the soap to Dimitri at long last. His free hand dips beneath the water, gently wrapping around one of Claude's ankles to lift his entire leg up. It means adjusting his place in the bath a little bit, but, fortunately, there's still plenty of room. He even reclines back a little bit, one knee bending in order to keep Claude's own leg up for him to begin gently rubbing the soap along his skin.

Reluctantly removing his hand from Claude's so that he can begin gathering soap in his hands as well, taking such utter care so that he doesn't either shatter it or have it go slipping at lightning speed into a wall, Dimitri nods. "I agree..." He turns his head, smiling to Claude and Felix both. "Whenever I see the two of you throwing your entire being into something... I almost wonder how I can feel anymore in love with you."

Felix goes red, in that characteristic way where he glares because he's still formulating a reaction in his head, and Claude decides to take the lead here, smiling back at Dimitri. "You almost wonder, huh?"

Leaning in, Dimitri presses a chaste kiss to his cheek before he puts the soap to the side. "And then you prove me wrong with everything you do afterwards, from your smiles to simply existing in the world alongside us."

Sometimes, what Claude really wonders is how on earth a person can be so heartrending and romantic the way Dimitri is, and Claude sighs. Or maybe that's because of the way Dimitri reaches around him with one hand, palm lightly braced against his spine. His other hand begins to slowly slide up his front, leaving a slick trail of bubbles behind it. "So should I take it that I'm not allowed to partake in cleaning any of you three? I'm just to continue being pampered?"

"Yep," Sylvain says, shoulders shaking a little bit again in silent laughter.

"Basically," Felix deadpans, fingers digging into a particularly nice spot along Claude's arm.

"Do you have any objections?" Dimitri asks quietly, the smile tugging at his lips hinting he already knows the answer.

Claude doesn't mind proving him right, honestly, and he smiles right back at him. "By all means. Pamper me to your hearts content." And they do.

Back in Almyra, if he really wanted to, Claude is pretty sure that he could live a life constantly surrounded by beautiful individuals of all genders, and pampered almost exactly like this. They would gladly follow his orders, clean his skin and hair and overall body, even kiss his fingertips if he really wanted. Yet almost isn't exactly, period, and honestly...

He doesn't want anything which isn't exactly this: all three of his lovers surrounding him, treating him like the most amazing thing in the world, easing away his fatigue and aches not because of orders but because of genuine love for him. No one else could watch him so sharply and attentively as Felix, looking for even the faintest glimpse of discomfort. No one could kiss his knee the exact same way that Sylvain does, once he's rinsed away the soap that leaves behind the soft fragrance of lavender. No one would ever come close to the way Dimitri holds him once they've finally finished, drawing him out of the bath and immediately into warm towels.

Drying is apparently another group effort, and Claude bursts out laughing, loose and languid as he falls back into Dimitri's arms. "Did you guys argue about this too?" he asks, before Felix reaches around Dimitri's shoulders to wrap his head up in a third towel.

While he fights that off and is unsuccessful, Sylvain just laughs from where he's down on the floor drying off Claude's legs. "We did, actually," he says, watching as Dimitri's head is a casualty to Felix's elbow in the resulting mess of limbs that is trying to get his upper body clean. "All of us wanted to have a hand in it, Dimitri didn't think we could do it all together at the same time, Felix disagreed.... And here we are."

"Incredible." Claude laughs, reaching up to brush aside some stray blanket from his face as Felix and Dimitri finally find a position that doesn't induce any cranial trauma. "You know, it feels like you've been at my feet a lot in the last half hour, Sylvain. Have any kinks you'd like to tell us about?"

Discarding his towel with the most difficult task down with, he grins up at Claude while he curls his fingers around one ankle. "I mean, your lower half is definitely not lacking in being attractive too, you know," he says, pressing a kiss to the side of Claude's foot gently.

It's not a kink he's particularly thought about in depth either, but, honestly... He can't deny that there's something attractive about Sylvain like this, completely naked, kneeling on the ground, reverently pressing his lips along Claude's skin while his wet hair slowly dries into messy waves around his own face, breath rushing along Claude's ankle...

Claude makes a note to conspire with Felix the next chance he gets on how the next game should go between the four of them. He's pretty sure that the swordsman would be more than interested in the idea of Sylvain and Dimitri purposefully being made to serve them. Oh, sure, both of their tall lovers have a tendency to do that anyway. When it comes to ways that they display love, the language of their love, service is definitely high up there as it is: Sylvain sparring with Felix when he notices his lover is in a bad mood, Dimitri draping his cloak along Claude's shoulders during particular bouts of cold, things of that nature.

But it would be something else entirely to really lean into that, for Claude and Felix to give orders and watch Dimitri and Sylvain strive to fulfill them. There's the mundane little things he knows they would adore, like hand feeding them, to the more debauched, such as spreading their legs with their nice thick cocks fully erect waiting for Claude or Felix to toy with them as they'd see fit...

Getting it up is impossible with the night he's had, but Claude still feels a stirring within him just imagining the idea, how he would plan it. Yes, he'll definitely have to bring this up with Felix later, and then they can talk to Dimitri and Sylvain.

Later. In the now, he indulges in the pampering he receives from his three lovers, and curls up against Dimitri with a sigh when the other king lifts him up so gently into his arms. "I like this part the best," he murmurs down to Claude while he takes his sweet time in leaving the bathroom, letting Sylvain and Felix stay behind to clean things up and bicker fondly. "The aftermath of the game we all play together, where we can spoil one another, be soft... Does that sound silly? After all, I could just do this from the start, instead of all the work leading up to it."

"I don't think it's silly," Claude says, shaking his head. "There are so many things we do exact because it's only a lead up to the things that we really want." Reaching upwards, he gently slides his fingertips down the side of Dimitri's jaw. "Felix likes the way a fight feels better after he stretches. I love the way a hot bath feels after we've come in from the cold. Some things are wonderful all the more when we have something to contrast them to." A grin spreads over his face. "Besides, it's all two sides of the same coin in the end, don't you think?"

Stepping out of the mildly warm bathroom to the much cozier warmth of Dimitri's bedroom where the fire continues to burn so brightly, Dimitri hums thoughtfully. "I suppose it depends on what you mean. Is it because things that are opposites... are inherently connected because of that? No, that doesn't... quite seem to make sense now that I've said it..."

"Nah, you're on the right track, Mitya." Claude pulls his hand away so that he can tap the very tip of Dimitri's nose. "Our game tonight might have been rough, and seemed cruel to some degree, but the control you and the others held wasn't only to drive me up the wall, but to make sure that I didn't hurt myself, right? Felix made sure the knots at my wrist wouldn't cut off circulation, or cause me any severe pain. Sylvain made sure that his body braced my own, even as I was thrashing about."

The two of them finally reach Dimitri's bed, and Claude silently notes that there's not even a trace of sweat or come along it. It's likely that his lovers removed the blanket while he was unconscious, a part of their clean up routine. It's something that's going to have to be cleaned discretely considering the high status of every single man involved here, he knows.

Dimitri and Claude are kings of their own separate nations, with all eyes on who they may marry or how they will deal with the inheritance of their kingdoms. It's something that is being watched by a great deal many curious eyes. (Well, maybe less so for Claude and Almyra. They do things differently, after all.)

Then there's Felix, a duke of Faerghus who's kept that position now that Fodlan is united since there are no other dukes left elsewhere. While normally dukes are known mostly only to the people in their lands and other nobility, Felix gets the advantage of being more well known thanks to the Fraldarius title as Shield for their king and country. Thus, people pay attention to him as well, and, well, everyone wants to know what will happen to the Fraldarius crest almost as much as the Blaiddyd one.

So yeah. They need to be discrete. That can make it hard to find someone who won't gossip, either to fellow servants or be paid off by someone higher up, but it's not impossible. Difficult, sure, because a person's heart and soul isn't something that can be seen clearly, but not impossible.

From what Claude knows, his three lovers had searched carefully for ages before finding a pleasant individual named Garry, apparently with ancestry from Dagda and nothing else connecting them to the country. With two young girls they'd adopted to take care of plus an ill lover, Garry apparently is a very understanding secret keeper with a good work ethic.

Claude has yet to properly met him, since it would be kind of strange for visiting royalty to make arrangements to meet servants and so he would have to think of a way to make it happen... but the work speaks for itself. The sheets they use are always taken off to be cleaned whenever their backs are turned, and then returned early the next morning when Dimitri is tended to.

Good help is hard to find, but it can be kept with a very excellent salary, Claude is pleased to hear. It's why everyone is more than happy to work for the king of Fodlan, and he's pretty sure more than a few keep their noses out of his personal business.

As he pulls back more than a few layers of blankets to wrap Claude up in, Dimitri continues to think about what Claude has mentioned. "I think I understand... Then, that very same thing is reflected in the care afterwards."

"Exactly." Burying himself into the pillows, Claude holds his arms out to Dimitri as he patiently waits for his love to join him. "Control and care go hand-in-hand no matter how severe we get, or how soft we are in the aftermath. So it's more than being opposites. It's the same thing either way, simply on a spectrum. You enjoying this part of the game is no different than you enjoying the other parts, too." Once Dimitri's arms are wrapped securely around him, allowing Claude to rest his head along that lovely chest, he grins up at his lover. "And I don't think I'm wrong in saying that you really enjoy the first part of the game."

He'll never get tired of seeing someone who he knows can get so hard and vicious blushing as though he's a maiden in any one of Faerghus' many fairy tales. "You looked radiant," Dimitri tells him, so shy and earnest in these little moments between them. "Even at the very beginning, when we had not done a single thing to you, and your desire was fully displayed with nothing to hide behind."

Biting his lip, Claude grins, and slowly drags one hand down Dimitri's chest and spreads his fingers along his stomach. "Oh?" he murmurs softly, wiggling even closer to Dimitri, as though that's even possible. "I'm sure you enjoyed seeing my desire fully displayed."

Dimitri's blush is absolutely vivid, even as he tries to gain control over his expression for a sturdy frown. "You know very well that's not what I meant," he tries to tell Claude sternly.

"Oh?" Claude asks, blinking innocently.

"I don't know why you try," Felix says as him and Sylvain finally exit the bathroom together, shaking his head. Judging by the lazy and content smile on Sylvian's face, they likely took a few seconds to do more than just cleaning in there. Just a little more, even if nothing too extreme. "We all know by this point that Claude von Riegan will twist words into an entirely unrelated meaning, if you let him speak at all. It's why we have to tie him up and block his eyesight, and should probably gag him the next time as well."

"Listen, words only have meaning because we give them meaning," Claude says loftily, the way he's grinning no doubt taking the serious edge away from his words. "I just happen to give them any meaning I want. It's not my fault if people go along with it."

Stopping besides the bed, Felix scoffs. "This is why you're getting gagged," he reminds him, leaning over to press his fingertips along the back of Claude's neck-

Claude squeaks, jerking away from him and almost on top of Dimitri. Felix must have cleaned something up in the bathroom - Claude can't imagine what right now - because his fingers are freezing. "The game is over!" he whines, reaching back to cover his neck with one hand. "You don't have to continue tormenting me, Felix! I'm a visiting king, give me some respect!"

Behind Felix, Sylvain is covering his mouth in a vain attempt to hold back his laughter, and Felix just levels an unimpressed stare down at Claude. "No," he says simply, and the flatness of his tone finally breaks Sylvain as the redhead crumples down against the side of the bed in uproarious laughter.

Even Dimitri is grinning as he draws Claude closer against his body. "In hindsight, you can't have expected any other response."

"Truly, he's a natural born sadist," Claude sighs, glancing over his shoulder at the sensation of Felix wiggling underneath the covers himself. "I feel like I truly introduced you to a lot of things that are coming back to bite me, now."

"Yet you enjoy them in the end anyway," Felix counters, reaching for Claude with his other hand. Whatever he did in the bathroom, he apparently only did with one hand, because this one is far warmer as it slides down Claude's arm and trails along to his back. "Or else you wouldn't have taught me all your tricks in the first place."

Truly, Felix planned to torment him ahead of time, even if that was only five minutes ahead, probably. Sighing contentedly, Claude eases back into that warm palm. "I think I only purposefully taught you some of them," he murmurs, smiling over to Felix. "Credit has to be given where it's due: you've definitely paid attention and picked up on all sorts of things through your own observation." Slowly easing back down so that he's firmly between Dimitri and Felix, he smiles at the latter. "For example, I'm never going to stop regretting the fact that, even though I thought I'd driven you well up the wall in edging you for so long, you still managed to retain enough of that night in your memories to learn how to hold me back from orgasming in sweet revenge."

All Felix does is smirk at him. Prying himself from where he's been holding onto the bed with a wide grin on his face, Sylvain finally rejoins the conversation. "Aww, but you love how it feels when you finally come, right?" He winks, sliding under the blankets as well so that he's on the other end, to Felix what Dimitri is very much for Claude.

"Gods help me," Claude murmurs, grinning right back at him, "but you're not wrong. What a rush, I have to say."

"Trust me, I know all too well, and you know I know." Sylvain's grin grows even wider. It's the grin of someone who knows from first hand experience just what it's like to have his own release delayed, toyed with, refused. After all, before all four of them came together, it was him and Sylvain that first started their sexual relationship... and Claude isn't ashamed to say that he used such a trick on him relentlessly long before Felix ever got a taste. "But you know what, Claude?"

"Hm?"

Sylvain reaches around Felix, embracing him in the same manner that lets him draw one hand down along Claude's side. "You looked stunning when you finally hit that peak," he purrs, eyes shining over Felix's head as he looks over to Claude. They have a particular look to them when the redhead gets like this, bright with intelligence and dark in attraction. Claude adores every time he sees it. "I think you even came more than usual... You should have seen it. Felix tried to swallow everything down that he could, but it still leaked out of him, making a mess all down his chin and on your stomach..."

Another completely unsexy groan from Claude. "Don't fill my head with more of that delicious mental picture," he tells Sylvain, and just gets a chuckle for his trouble. "I can't possibly get aroused again, but I need to keep that in my head for the future."

"Maybe next time, if you're not a pain in the ass, we'll take the blindfold off so that you can see it for yourself," Felix says smugly. Maybe it would be more annoying if not for the soft way Felix presses up against him, encouraging the way they're all surruounding Claude in one way or another, or the smile he can feel Dimitri press into his hair, or how much he loves all of them so much. Maybe.

But there are a lot of "maybe"s in the world, and Claude doesn't really care for them when the truth is right in front of him, and the truth is that he loves Felix so much.

Honestly, he loves all of them so much that it's a miracle he can feel anything else.

Once they're tucked into bed, no squirming, no wiggling, just warm bodies against warm bodies, love against love... That's when they finally settle down, although only after Dimitri sighs at their teasing and playful bickering. "We have work to do tomorrow, you all realize," he informs them dryly. "Especially you, Felix, no matter how much you would like to never look at the inside of your study again."

Felix makes a faintly disgruntled cat noise, always one for physical training and tactics rather than dealing with paperwork, and Sylvain chuckles. "I'll help you out where I can, Fe, I promise," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of Felix's ear.

"I would help, but after how you tortured me so much with absolute relish tonight, I think you deserve a little punishment of your own," Claude teases, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of Felix's frowning lips. "That, and I think they say something about the king of a foreign nation nosing about in a duke's study. Usually a lot of scandal, although I must admit that my understanding of Fodlan nobility and their politics has faded just a little bit from my unreliable memory."

While Sylvain has to duck his head into the pillows to muffle his laugh and thus avoid blowing out Felix's eardrums, Dimitri clicks his tongue in faint disbelieving amusement. "Oh, now I have a hard time believing that," he murmurs. "Now then, one of us should actually get up and take care of the fireplace... I can-"

"Oh no you don't," Claude says immediately, burrowing even more against Dimitri. Or, well, he gives a noble attempt. "Do you know how freezing I'm going to be if you leave me, Mitya?"

"You have four blankets atop of you," Dimitri chides gently. "And there's Felix holding onto you as well. Come now. One of us has to get up and take care of the fireplace. It will only take a moment."

Chuckling, Sylvain begins to push the blankets off of himself. "Honestly, I'll go- and don't make that noise, Felix. I was the last one in, so I'll own up to that." It really does only take a moment, honestly... but even Claude has to admit that it's a moment without Sylvain's hands brushing along his sides from where he had his arms around Felix. To think that the loss would be twice as bad if he didn't have Dimitri's entire warm body up against him... Still, he watches carefully through the darkened room, moonlight the only thing guiding Sylvain back to them until the bed shifts again. "Miss me?"

"If I say yes to that, then you'll just get smug and unable to keep your hands off of me," Felix informs him through the darkness, moving his hands off of Claude for a brief moment to tug Sylvain closer against him. "Sure this is enough blankets, Claude?"

"It'll do," Claude murmurs, smiling as he presses his lips against Felix's jaw and rests his own hand along the one Dimitri has at his stomach. "You know, before we go to sleep... I love all of you. I just wanted to say that."

"I share a bed with nothing but the most sappy romantics," Felix murmurs, but, at this proximity, it's far too easy for Claude to feel the way heat is burning off of his skin in his soft embarrassment. "I love you too, but you already knew that. All of you."

"I still forever long to hear it," Dimitri murmurs, which doesn't do anything to make that burning heat lower in temperature at all. Perhaps there was never any need to worry about if they'd stay warm enough without the fireplace or enough blankets. "I love you, Claude, and Felix as well. I love you, Sylvain."

Hidden away in the sanctuary of darkness, where a mask can be removed safely with nothing but love, Sylvain's tone takes on a soft honesty that's rarely seen outside of this room. It's the kind of softness that never fails to melt deep into Claude's very bones, and he's pretty sure Felix and Dimitri feel the same way. "I'm with Dimitri. I'll never get tired of hearing the three of you say it to me. I love you so much I swear it makes my heart hurt."

There's something to be said about hurt, about pain. About how humans always do their very best to avoid it, because pain is a signal that something is going terribly wrong. But sometimes pain isn't just that. Sometimes pain is just what happens when there's so much of something... and how that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Hidden away in the gentle darkness of Dimitri's room, surrounded by three men who adore him so completely, body still aching from their attention and their love and their care... Claude feels himself absolutely hurt straight down to the soul from how much he adores the three of them in turn. It's the kind of thing that lets him close his eyes and drift off, secure, content, and eager for the morrow.