Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a nice morning. As nice as a morning can get. The weather was even rather pleasant for Nod Krai standard, chilly, but not freezing, without the usual strong wind that always seemed to get right to your bones. It was sunny for once, even. Yet as soon as Jahoda set her foot on the land of Final Night Cemetery, the sun hid itself behind the clouds cowardly. The veil of everlasting darkness covered the place like it belonged there by some grand design, the sun never shining here as if it was scared, too. 

Wait, too? Who else was scared? Someone other than Jahoda, that’s for sure. She couldn’t possibly be scared of such a place, its dark corners, gloomy memorials, whispering ghosts, always looming threat of another Wild Hunt attack and a thick fog that was all too easy to get lost in. No-no-no, what nonsense! Jahoda has visited this place a number of times and, with an exception of that one little incident, nothing really happened. There was no reason to be scared, not for someone as experienced as her, not when the Lighthouse had finally been repaired and clearly showed her the way she needed to go. 

Jahoda yawned and sighed loudly with exhaustion, she already hated herself for agreeing to make this delivery — in the morning, too! — but it was along the way, the money wasn't too bad and Flins, while creepy, seemed like a really nice guy. She had no reason to refuse the job other than her being scared for life of this place. And of course there was no way she’d admi- Wait, she and scared? Who said that? She wasn’t scared!

Finally finding courage to continue on her way, Jahoda steeled her nerves and confidently marched towards the Lighthouse, trying her best to hold back from actually running just to deal with this faster. After that incident she decided it would be for the best to refrain from running here, the ruins and tricky landscape being barely visible in the darkness and the fog. 

Knocking on the door, Jahoda did not expect a quick response. It was quite early in the morning and even someone like Flins, who seemed to always be available for anything as if he didn’t need sleep, would probably need some time to make himself presentable and go downstairs. Still, standing in such a place completely alone Jahoda couldn’t help but start getting nervous, seeing things that shouldn’t realistically be there, twitching with her whole body when she heard sounds she didn’t want to know the origin of. 

The poor girl was so unnerved she jumped in her place, almost dropping the delivery, when the door finally unlocked.

“Finally, I was starting to think your jokes became a reality, Fl—“ she started, still focused on checking if the envelope was undamaged, when she looked up and froze in disbelief. “HUH?!!”

“Oh? Mornin’, Jahoda! Didn’t expect to see you ‘ere.”

The voice that replied wasn’t the one she originally expected. Deeper, warmer, rumbling like one of Aino’s large machines. The man leaning onto the doorway, arms crossed, obviously wasn’t the one she expected either. About the same height, if slightly taller, but of a much stronger and imposing built, broad shoulders and prominent muscles on full display, considering the man was wearing only pants. Shorter golden hair, still messy from sleep, wide welcoming grin and shrewd but gentle blue eyes.

“Mr. Varka?!” Jahoda was much louder than she ever wanted to be in this place, but her emotions were taking a better of her.

“What brought you here?” The large man asked softly, genuine interest and not a drop of suspicion in his voice. “Working?”

“Why are you he—,” Jahoda started, completely ignoring the question, still stunlocked by the whole situation. Yet mid-sentence she seemed to have snapped out of it, realizing just who, where and in what a look met her and the girl blushed furiously, looking away immediately. “No! No, stop, don’t answer that I do not want to know. Here, pass this to Flins ok good thank you have fun you two bye.” Jahoda spit like a little machine gun and practically threw the envelope into Varka.

Not waiting for a reply, she hurried to turn around and quickly leave the place, trying her best not to look back or around, ears still red.

Varka watched her back, wide-eyed, but then scoffed affectionately and, taking a second glance at the envelope, closed the door to the Lighthouse.

When Varka returned to the upper room, Flins had already made himself look somewhat presentable: hair combed, flowing neatly down his back, pants and unbuttoned purple shirt put on for some semibalance of decency. He wasn’t shy of showing his body to Varka, there was nothing that man hadn’t seen, but Flins was just too used to covering himself, just if slightly, he felt more comfortable that way.

“Here, delivery for our most esteemed Lightkeeper,” Varka joked, handing over the envelope.

“Thank you. I’d need to show my gratitude to Jahoda later it seems,” Flins smiled at the joke as he took the envelope. 

Seeing that the delivery was from his colleagues but had no urgency markings, he set it aside for later. Probably just a request for the reports he's been procrastinating on for too long and didn't want to think of right now anyway.

“I didn’t tell you it was her,” Varka raised his eyebrow.

“Varka,” Kyryll huffed softly, smile in his voice. “It is rather obvious it was her. There are not so many people beside you who are willing to come this far alone, and even less of them are to pick up delivery jobs. Were it someone from the Lightkeepers they’d just leave it downstairs without trying to bother us.” Flins explained but then suddenly fell silent, his expression unreadable.

“I have a better question,” Kyryll started, his voice unexpectedly low, as he stared at Varka. “If you don’t mind enlightening me… what is that?”

“Hm?” The Grandmaster did not quite get what his lover meant. That is until he followed Kyryll’s gaze.

The silence of the room got drowned out by Varka’s thunderous laughter. 

“Oh Archons, Barbatos blow me away, I forgot about this thing,” Varka managed to say, still laughing.

The thing in question was a turquoise, glowing anemo sigil right on his lower abdomen, almost lewd in its positioning. Flins found it interesting to be able to forget about, and more interesting that despite the amount of nights they spent together he didn’t see it on the larger man even once.

Varka calmed his laughter in a bit and waved his hand dismissingly at the silent question of Kyryll’s stare.

“I’ll tell you ‘bout it, don’t worry,” Varka said, still a bit breathless, and grinned. “But I may need a bit of your moonshine, if you want to hear this story in full detail.”

The speed at which a bottle of alcohol and glasses appeared on the table was an answer clear enough.

Angel’s Share wasn’t a big tavern. It didn’t need to be. It needed to be a cozy warm little place where curious travelers could learn more of the town and weary knights were welcomed at and could relax after a long shift. It was doing its job perfectly. Good wine, friendly atmosphere and talented local bards made each evening truly enjoyable. Some, including the highly esteemed owner of the tavern, were inclined to think that the Knights of Favonius overindulged in their leisure. Yet they could do little, as their Grandmaster’s big and warm smile very quickly swayed them to admit the importance of rest and high spirits for the hard working knights. 

The very same Grandmaster was now sitting at one of the tables, enjoying the drink and the weight of a man in his lap, hugging his neck and whispering something to his ear, breath hot against Varka’s skin. That man was none other but the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, Kaeya. His own lithe body fit perfectly in Varka’s large and muscular lap as Kaeya kept leaning on his broad chest. The Cavalry Captain threw an unreadable glance towards a red-headed man behind the counter and chuckled, before putting a chaste kiss to the corner of Varka’s mouth and reaching to the table for his own glass of wine. 

“Eeeeh?!” 

A high-pitched voice sliced through the quiet muttering of the tavern, making Kaeya almost spill the drink. When he gathered himself, the owner of that voice was already hanging on Varka’s neck on the opposite side.

“Vaarkaaa, what is this? This is not faair!” whined a small man in teal and white clothes, dark double braids rocking along with his feeble attempts to shake a mountain that was the Grandmaster. “This is my plaaace!”

The man’s voice was more playful, than genuinely offended, a pout forming on his pretty face as he looked between Varka and Kaeya. Someone less familiar with the tavern’s regulars could think he was already drunk. Though, Kaeya himself wasn’t quite sure it wasn’t the case.

“Evenin’ to you too, Venti,” laughed Varka, not minding the bard being so touchy with him. “Sorry, sorry, but Kaeya loves it too. Hmm, do you think you both could fit?”

“Oh?” Kaya replied in his usual sultry tone, somewhat intrigued by the prospect, and shifted so that he occupied only one of Varka’s thighs. Luckily, their size easily allowed for that. “I would surely not mind trying.”

“Yaay!” Venti giggled, quickly jumping to take the second thigh, his smaller frame fitting it even better than Kaeya, like it was his rightful place. He reached out to smooch Varka’s cheek and then to Kaeya for a full on kiss. The latter didn’t seem to mind at all, responding eagerly.

While the boys in his lap were enjoying each other, Varka huffed softly and gestured to the bartender.

“Diluc, we need another glass. And, probably, another bottle of wine. Or two, actually, let’s start with two.” 

“Venti, are you sure you didn’t come here drunk?” Lazily inquired Varka, watching as Venti was playing with Kaeya’s ponytail. 

“Who knows~” Venti giggles in response before pulling on Varka’s neck to drag him into a kiss.

The bottles they ordered were long gone, a few others joining the fray and now yet another one had its last drop spilled into Kaeya’s mouth. And Varka would be a liar to deny the way this amount of alcohol and rather close interactions with two beautiful men affected him. He always got horny when drunk, and these two little rascals that were constantly groping, kissing, and leaning on him, weren’t making his life any easier.

When Venti finally accidentally brushed over Varka’s clothed erection with amused giggle, the larger man allowed himself to put his arms on Venti’s and Kaeya’s lower backs.

“Shall we go upstairs?” Varka’s voice was low and breathy in the moment, leaving no doubts about his intentions.

“All three of us?” Kaeya raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t want to?” Venti teased.

“I never said that.” Kaeya chuckled. 

With a fond sigh, Varka suddenly squeezed the supple asses comfortably seated on his thighs, earning a surprised gasp from Kaeya and a yelp, followed by a giggle, from Venti.

“You boys go ahead, I’ll catch up in a bit,” Varka said, helping them get off his lap before moving to the bar counter as his partners for the night hurried upstairs, only Kaeya stopping for a second to throw another glance at the bartender before being dragged away by the excited bard.

“Hey there, big guy, sorry for all the bother,” Varka waved to Diluc, who seemed rather unimpressed by everything, including the poor irony of Varka calling him big. 

“It’s okay, you’re not the first, nor the last,” Diluc sighed, setting aside the glass he’s been polishing for what felt like an hour now. “I’ll put it all in your tab.”

“You got this,” Varka nodded, before his usual friendly grin vanished, expression of genuine concern replacing it while he was looking at Diluc. “Hey, are you alright?” He asked quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to their conversation.

“As usual,” Diluc replied dryly, as always, his own gaze avoiding Varka’s eyes. 

Varka sighed in defeat, ruffling his own hair. He looked at Diluc again, noticing just how stiff the young man was and how dark circles settled under his eyes.

“You know that my office is still always open for you, right? Even if it’s just to talk or voice your concerns, I’ll be there, and you’re always welcome.” 

Diluc stood still for a while, still avoiding Varka’s eyes.

“I know. Thank you, Grandmaster.”

When Varka got to the room he usually rented for such things, Venti and Kaeya were already naked and rather preoccupied with each other, kissing, naughty hands touching wherever they could reach, sweet moans and gasps filling the room. Varka stood in the doorway for a while enjoying the view with a gentle smile as he slowly removed his armor. 

Having finally noticed that the Grandmaster joined them, Venti jumped up from the bed and hurried to the man, pulling him into a deep kiss immediately, even if it meant the bard going tip-toe and making Varka lean down, helping him get undressed in the meantime.

Venti’s kisses were always playful and unpredictable. Even when one thought they had an upper hand, it was the small-framed bard who decided when to break the kiss or deepen it, teasing his partner and driving them insane with desire. Varka, too, despite being used to Venti’s style, felt himself getting lost in their kiss, as if he was drinking a dandelion wine - light, sweet and so deceptively harmless as it drowned his sanity away.

Venti sighed softly and giggled at every opportunity he got, ever the loud one in bedroom, while he was slowly dragging already mostly naked Varka back to the bed, small hands roaming the Grandmaster’s large body, caressing over light hair on his chest, squeezing his soft pecs in attempt to get another reaction from him. 

Once they reached the bed, Venti finally freed Varka’s mouth only to move down to take care of Grandmaster’s boots and pants. With no one to obstruct his view, Varka finally could take a look at Kaeya. He was sitting on the bed, one hand used to lean back, other on his own dick, long and elegant like its owner, stroking it lazily. Varka spent a few moments enjoying just how majestic and effortlessly seductive his Captain looked before leaning in to cup his face and bring him into a deep and gentle kiss. Kaeya seemed to enjoy the kiss a lot, evident by the sweet moan spilling from his lips, hands tightening on Varka’s shoulders, and still for some reason he pushed Grandmaster away.

“Varka…,” he whispered, gaze unfocused as he tried his best to look Varka in the eyes, frowning a little.

“It’s ok,” Varka huffed out, gently caressing Kaeya’s cheek with his thumb. “I remember.”

“Thank you,” Kaeya nodded and leaned back just in time for Venti to jump on Varka’s back, hanging on his strong neck.

“What are you whispering about?~” Venti asked in the tone of a spoiled little girl demanding attention.

“Nothing interesting, just setting some boundaries for tonight,” Varka chuckles, easily scooping Venti up in a princess carry and setting themselves on the bed beside Kaeya.

Venti giggled, wriggling out of Varka’s hold to move back behind him to start kissing his neck, moving down to shoulders, his hands snaking back to fondle Varka’s chest. Luckily, his drunk mind seemed to have dropped the topic quickly, more interested in worshipping Varka’s body than some boring boundaries or whatever. Both knights sighed with relief. There was no proper way to explain their agreement and reason it appeared after that one night Kaeya spent crying into Varka’s chest after Grandmaster ended up being too gentle with him, flaring up all the insecurities and self-hatred Kaeya tried so hard to bury deep inside. 

Kaeya smiled, looking at how Venti kept groping and worshipping Varka’s body to his heart’s content. Having decided he also shouldn’t remain idle, Kaeya slowly crawled closer to Varka to start kissing his abs. Varka gasped and leaned back, pushing himself against Venti, to give Kaeya more space, enjoying the touch of his hands and lips. He let his Cavalry Captain gently move lower, cover every inch of his body with kisses along the way, spread his legs further with a gentle nudge. Kaeya’s hot breath tickled Varka’s length, the man grinning seductively as he pushed his cheek against Varka’s cock, letting out a shaky breath when he felt the weight and warmth of it on his face.

Varka licked his lips as he lowered his hand to entangle it in Kaeya’s hair. The view was absolutely delicious. Kaeya’s dark skin contrasted nicely against his fair one, dark blush of arousal spreading on the Captain’s cheeks. He looked at Varka with such hunger that Grandmaster felt himself twitch with excitement. Varka pushed Kaeya’s head gently and he, as if have been waiting for such a signal, took Varka’s length in his mouth, going as deep as he could.

Varka sighed loudly, trying his best not to growl and shove Kaeya’s head down, make him take him even deeper. Kaeya was experienced, Varka knew it, and even if he didn’t, it was easily noticeable in how stable the man’s breathing was, how his tongue danced around Varka’s cock despite how tight a fit it was for his mouth. Still, even he couldn’t take this monster of a dick in fully from the get go. So Varka let him do his thing, enjoying the wet warmth of Kaeya’s mouth and playing with his dark hair gently as encouragement, while Grandmaster himself leaned back into Venti’s kisses to his shoulders.

Varka closed his eyes when he noticed how blurry his vision was from all the pleasure and alcohol, quiet moans interchanging with loud sighs and gasps. It helped little to aid his head from spinning, though. The mix of sensations pulled him even deeper, taking away his every thought as he sat there to relax and enjoy mindlessly.

Thus, when he felt thin fingers grab at his chin and pull his head up, he followed obediently. When Varka finally opened his eyes, a fervent sigh fell from his lips.

“Barbatos…,” a curse or a prayer, both made sense in the moment.

Venti was looking at him from above with a smile, teal eyes shining subtly in the darkness. The bard giggled and leaned in, pulling Varka in for a soft kiss. It felt different, somehow, devoid of passion and lust. It felt more like a blessing, bestowed upon him by the divinity. Varka let himself go completely limp, giving in to whatever was going on, ready to do anything his god desired.

It wasn't often that Venti played around with his divinity, especially not with other people around. With Varka though, it wasn’t unusual that he indulged in this little powerplay of theirs, absolutely adoring how such a big and strong man melted easily and worshiped him with his whole being. And once again, it sent shivers down Varka’s spine, the alcohol-addled mind falling even faster than usual into this subservient state of his.

“Don’t you think my best knight deserves some symbol of recognition from his god?” Barbatos whispered into Varka’s lips mischievously, holding his face up with both hands. They felt so small against Grandmaster’s cheeks, cooling his heat pleasantly, grounding him slightly. 

“Venti, Kaeya…,” was everything Varka managed to utter in this split second of lucidity, using the correct name only by some miracle. Lord Barbatos never was too careful about his identity, often edging on straight up outing himself for some reason. However, even for him to talk about it so openly in front of someone unaware of his divine nature seemed way too dangerous. 

“Shh, don’t worry, he won’t hear.” Venti whispered and, after a feather-light smooch, moved back to his place behind Varka, his lips brushing against the Grandmaster’s earlobe. “Look how preoccupied he is. I bet he can’t focus on anything but how good your dick tastes in his mouth.” Venti chuckled, adjusting Varka’s head so he could look at the man between his legs. Varka swallowed loudly as his own mouth suddenly felt dry at a display and words so lewd. “He’s such a skilled whore, isn’t he? Taking someone as big as you like he was born for it. Just like you were born to be my strongest and bravest warrior.” 

Varka couldn’t hold back a loud moan at those words, his hips buckled, throwing Kaeya off the rhythm. The Captain didn’t mind it though, quickly returning to his previous pace, bobbing his head with such a fervor one could almost think his life depended on it. Varka wasn’t one to think at that moment. Not when Venti hugged him from behind again, his cold hands coiling around his chest, slowly moving down as Venti kept whispering into Varka’s ear.

“You are being so good, protecting my people, making them feel safe and happy in my city. They can and do trust you. Someone so devoted to serving his nation deserves a little gift from the Archon that it belongs to, hm?” 

Venti’s hands stopped over Varka’s lower abdomen, slowly warming against his skin. Barbatos grinned and leaned closer to Varka, basically laying on top of the man to make sure he paid attention to the god’s next words.

“Do you accept my gift, Grandmaster?” 

“Lord, yes…,” a moan fell from Varka’s lips and that’s all that Venti needed to hear.

Varka felt his elemental power drawn to a singular point, concentrated there. It was a weird feeling, like a wind blew straight through him in that one particular place, churning and whirling there. It was weird, but certainly not unpleasant.

“There we go,” Venti’s fingers ghosted over the marking, making Varka’s muscle contract involuntary which caused Venti to giggle fondly. “Bearing my mark, a sign of my recognition. My dear knight, my Northern Wind.” 

Varka looked down and his breath hitched at the sight. A glowing anemo sigil of a vivid teal color fitted itself on his body, its vibration somewhere deep inside him caused by the strong elemental presence barely noticeable, but undeniably pleasant.

The thought of bearing his Archon’s mark went straight to Varka’s dick. Combine that with skillful ministrations of Kaeya’s mouth and Varka felt himself close, whole body tensing in chase of that last drop of pleasure he needed to overspill. 

Venti’s hand immediately darted to the base of Varka’s erection, the ring of his fingers tightening just enough to prevent the man from cumming, only slightly painful. Nothing his strongest warrior couldn’t handle 

“Shh, not yet. Will you be good for me, my dear knight? Hold it for a bit more.” Venti whispered into Varka’s ear when the man whined at the denial of release. Venti had to let go of Varka’s length for that thought, their size difference not working in his favor for once. Yet he knew Varka would obey. He always did. “You wouldn’t deny your god a little offering in gratitude for his patronage, would you?”

Venti let out an excited giggle when Varka growled at the realization of exactly what that phrase implied. 

Kaeya by that time has long removed himself from Varka’s dick, he stopped when he felt Venti intervene, too drunk on both cock and alcohol to have a solid grasp on the situation. He just kept staring at the mark at Varka’s abdomen with his hazy eyes, face red from arousal and wet from his own spit and Grandmaster’s fluids. 

“What do you think?” Venti asked in his bright voice, leaning over Varka’s shoulder with half of his body to take a closer look at Kaeya’s reaction.

“It’s so hot I’m about to burst, honestly,” Kaeya mumbled, still unable to look away from the mark. 

Varka moaned desperately and Venti laughed, rather satisfied with the answer. He rose up only to circle around the Grandmaster and fall into his lap, slotting himself between the larger men like the place was reserved specifically for him, face to Kaeya, Varka’s hardness nestled comfortably on the bard’s lower back.

“Hold your horses, Captain,” Venti commented as he cupped Kaeya’s face to bring him closer. He could feel Varka’s chest shake behind him with the badly concealed snicker at the poor taste joke. “Gotta hold on for the main event. Can you?” 

Kaeya rolled his eye and with a confident “Of course” leaned in to kiss the mischievous bard.

“So, what is your grand plan you denied us both for?” Varka chuckled, his hand warping around Venti’s waist, enjoying how thin and fragile it felt against him. The Grandmaster’s head started clearing up a bit at the lack of stimulation and certain someone exploiting his kinks, though Varka now became much more aware of his throbbing arousal because of that, getting unusually impatient.

Venti shuffled excitedly, pushing Kaeya away to break the kiss. 

“I want both of you,” he started, looking between the two men. “Inside me. At the same time.” 

“Are you sure?” Kaeya raised an eyebrow skeptically, recalling Varka’s monstrous size.

“Yeah. I know you take me easily, but at the same time with Kaeya? Wouldn’t it be too much?” Varka agreed, genuine concern in his voice. Venti might be a god, but his body was still that of a mortal. Or it only looked so.

Venti folded his arms and pouted theatrically.

“Don’t underestimate me!” 

Varka laughed gently behind him, his arm tightening around the bard’s waist.

“Alright-alright, if you say so.”

Kaeya stayed skeptical but didn’t argue, instead standing up to reach for the mess of clothes on the floor. After a bit he finally found a small vial of oil and threw it to Varka. The Grandmaster caught the oil easily and with one hand raised Venti up. Leaning back for a more comfortable position, Varka settled the bard on his chest and poured the oil over both Venti’s hole and his own dick. He opted for not wasting time for preparation, knowing for sure that Venti had either prepared at home or fucked someone on his way to the tavern. Either way, he didn’t really need it at the moment. Plus, Venti much preferred the feeling of a cock stretching him, not fingers. 

Nuzzling Venti’s hair, Varka propped the minuscule bard above his dick and lowered him on it slowly, enjoying just how smooth it went. Venti wasn’t ever one to hold back his moans, almost screaming when Varka finally bottomed out.

The Grandmaster sighed through his teeth, trying his best not to cum just from penetrating. It would be too humiliating even for him. Yet, he was edged for so long, and Venti felt so good, so warm and tight around him, the view of his belly bulging slightly with Varka’s length due to their size difference making the Grandmaster’s head spin again. Varka closed his eyes to regain his composure and hugged whimpering Venti tight. 

Once the man felt more in control of his own body and thoughts he reached his hand down where their bodies connected, scooping a bit of excess oil and pushing it back into Venti with two fingers. Varka let out a surprised hum when his fingers slipped in easily, drawing a moan out of the bard. Varka’s fingers were large, too, and to insert them so easily… Out of curiosity, he tried sliding in a third finger. The Grandmaster wasn't sure if he should be surprised when he felt his third finger enter just as easily as previous two. 

Kaeya, who by that time returned to the bed and was watching attentively, whistled. Venti laughed at their reactions. 

"Told you not to underestimate me~" bard teased, relaxing himself on Varka's chest, breathing heavy and eyes hazy from overwhelming pleasure and fullness. 

Kaeya leaned closer and touched Venti's own neglected cock. Little bard shuddered from sudden stimulation so hard that Varka had to hold him down, muscles bulging with effort. Kaeya let out a satisfied chuckle and moved his hand lower, sliding his own fingers, slick with Venti's precum, along Varka's. 

"You can't tell me you don't need prep for this at all?" Kayea sounds dumbfounded, pushing his finger in and out from Venti's tightness with a surprising ease. 

"Ehe," is the bard's response once he calmed his breathing enough, only to whine desperately when both men pulled their fingers out.

Kaeya looked up at Varka and, after receiving a nod of approval, positioned himself against Venti's hole. He still couldn't believe it was possible to fit himself in. Venti looked stretched beyond limits down there, but Kaeya himself felt just how possible it was to fill him even more a mere moment ago. Cavalry Captain took a deep breath and, having grabbed Venti's hips for support, started slowly pushing in.

Kaeya quickly came to a halt, though, his whole body shaking despite only managing to insert the tip. It was so hot, so tight, he could feel each line of Varka’s cock as he was pressed so hard against it. It felt too good. Just as Varka, he needed a moment to collect himself, knowing that with how pent up he was like he could cum with any movement. Kayea grabbed Varka’s arm that was coiled around Venti’s chest to support himself. Varka, in return, used his free hand to put it on Kaeya’s lower back, pushing the Captain in gently once he became more stable.

Kaeya moaned wantonly at every inch of his length sinking deeper with Varka’s assistance, Grandmaster himself sighing loudly, the unusual pleasant sensation of someone pressed tightly against his arousal making it difficult to hold back. Venti was long gone, eyes rolling to the back of his head, drooling as he was able only to moan and whimper at the overwhelming fullness. 

When Kaeya finally bottomed out, whatever little strength he had in the moment left him and the man fell down on other two, pinning Venti to Varka’s chest. Captain let out a shaky breath somewhere into Varka’s collarbone and immediately felt the Grandmaster’s lips on his temple.

“You’re doing great,” he heard the low voice, Varka’s chest vibrating nicely as he spoke. 

All three stayed still like that for a while, trying to get used to the new sensations. Not that he’d ever be able to get used to something like that, Kaeya thought. Sex always felt good, but being so tightly pressed against such a large and heavy cock as Varka’s, all while in the warm embrace of Venti’s velvety walls felt like something forbidden. Something only those blessed by the Anemo Archon himself were ever allowed to experience. 

It was Varka who started moving first, thrusting his hips slightly. Admittedly, he wasn’t quite in a position to do hard thrusts, not with weights of two adult men on top of him. He could, yes, but their comfort was just as important for Varka. Plus, it’s not like either of them needed much more stimulation at the moment. He was really, really close, but he new that despite being fucked absolutely stupid, the bard in his hands did not, in fact, had enough. He couldn’t disappoint him like that. 

“More! Harder! Pleeaaase,” Venti cried out, trying his best to move himself but he lacked the strength — or will to apply said strength — to affect both men, pinning him down to Varka’s chest.

“Greedy, aren’t we?” Grandmaster chuckled into Venti’s ear and growled as he felt Kaeya starting to move too.

Captain was breathing heavily, rutting against Varka’s cock mostly in chase of his own pleasure. Kaeya obviously couldn’t think of anything other than his release, not even of Venti who was begging him to go faster, to fill him deeper. Kaeya’s gaze was clouded with lust, unfocused, and Varka gritted his teeth, trying his best not to cum that instant from such an erotic display. There was no way he was going to last much longer. Varka moved his hand that was still resting on Kaeya’s to Venti’s cock, struggling a bit to wriggle it in between the tightly pressed bodies. Grandmaster smiled when he heard Venti mewl at the stimulation. If he can’t last long enough, he must make sure the Bard gets satisfied faster. 

Kaeya came first, his whole body shuddering as he spilled inside. His was a quiet orgasm, only shaky breaths leaving his lips while his hands squeezed Varka’s arm hard to keep balance, most probably leaving a few marks. Venti giggled, feeling the warmth or Kaeya’s seed deep inside him, wriggling with his whole body and tightening his walls as if trying to milk Captain to the last drop. It was hard to tell how intentional it was, but Varka also quickly fell victim to Venti’s ministrations with a barely contained snarl, his own hot release filling the minuscule bard to the brim.

Venti sighed dreamily as he touched his own belly, enjoying the warmth and fullness while he could. It was then that Varka’s hand started pumping his cock harder, the man behind him kissing his ear and jaw, completely ignoring Venti’s tearful protests as he was determined to bring him to release too. Venti came on Kaeya’s stomach with a loud, melodic moan, eyes rolling back while his body trembled in Varka’s secure hold. 

Bard went limp for a few moments, breathing just as heavily as his partners. Unlike them, though, he seemed insatiable just being fucked thoroughly, starting to wriggle in an attempt to bring hardness to the dicks that were still inside him.

Varka sighed, having nothing of it, and raised the bard up a bit, so both he and Kayea could pull out their already deflating and sensitive organs without effort.

Venti whined pathetically when he felt the men slip out, their mixed seed gushing down in a thick stream from his abused hole that still tried to contract over nothing.

“Nooo, don’t stop yet! I want moore,” he whimpered weakly at the emptiness, continuing to wriggle between the two larger men, but quickly fell quiet, post-climax bliss washing over him as the heat of two strong bodies beside him made him relax, aided by the alcohol in his bloodstream. 

One moment he was complaining about wanting more, the other he was snoring peacefully in Varka’s embrace. Varka chuckled at how quickly Bard died down, watching lazily as Kaeya, too, failed at his struggle with sleep, falling on top of them completely limp.

Grandmaster felt his muscles relax, sleep and dizziness tugging at his consciousness as well. He wanted to clean up, but he so couldn't be assed doing anything right now. Still, his determination ended up being stronger than his momentary laziness. Varka sighed and gently turned to the side, making sure the heap of bodies on top of him had a soft landing on the bed. He carefully untangled his limbs and with annoyed groan made himself stand up.

Varka took his time, cleaning himself from all the excess fluids and as much sweat as it was possible with a wet wipe and, grabbing a clean one, returned to the bed. He sighed fondly when he noticed just how tightly the boys were clinging to each other in his absence. Separating them wasn’t too difficult though, their bodies giving in to Varka’s touch obediently. 

He didn’t do much, wasn’t planning to either, just wiping off the semen before it started cooling and drying, knowing firsthand just how unpleasant it felt on the skin like that. Kaeya sighed in his sleep when Varka got to his cock, seemingly still sensitive, so Grandmaster tried his best to be gentle, whispering something calming to the sleeping man’s ear. He planted a chaste kiss on Kaeya’s temple when he was done and, having changed the cloth again, turned Venti on his back.

Varka repeated his ministrations with his Archon, though Venti generally had a much more deep sleep, not requiring the same finesse. When he got lower, he only wiped Vent’s ass gently with the last clean part of the cloth, not getting inside. Varka knew that Bard preferred to keep the cum inside him as long as possible. Grandmaster could see the appeal, but himself would never really tolerate the feeling once his arousal died down, and he definitely was not excited about the potential consequences that would catch up to him next morning if he were to try. Archons must really be built different.

Varka chuckled at his thoughts and lied back down, finally allowing himself to fully relax, too. He brought both of his friends to his embrace, cuddling them like they were plush toys and smiled when they tried to lean closer, seeking the larger man’s warmth. Varka smiled and, having covered them all with a surprisingly clean blanket, drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Kyryll gulped another glass of fiery liquid and put it back on the table with a gentle thud. He enjoyed Varka’s story. Some details he found rather unnecessary to share, but a strange warmth creeped into his heart at the thought of just how willing Varka was to share about himself with the Lightkeeper. Still, Kyryll had some questions left. 

“Barbatos, huh? So you were lovers?” Flins asked, looking into the emptiness of the room, no accusation in his voice, just restrained curiosity. 

“Hmm, one might say that. I stand by my earlier statement about our relationship and would rather call it friends with benefits. He’s not the type to tie himself down with such things.” Varka replied in a light-hearted tone, leaning back on the couch lazily. He took so much space compared to Flins, legs spread wide, arms propped on the couch’s head, but Kyryll didn’t mind. Grandmaster’s presence was comforting even in a way that he occupied the usually empty space around the Lightkeeper.

“And you? You’re still wearing his insignia” Kyryll asked, finally turning his eyes to look at Varka.

Varka laughed. 

“What is this question? I was drunk when he put it on me and almost forgot about it until today.” He tried to explain but then a realization hit him. Grandmaster grinned and inquired teasingly. “Are you jealous?”

“In a way,” Kyryll admitted straightforwardly before pouring a bit of moonshine into his mouth straight from the bottle and straddling Varka. His own legs strained a bit painfully, having to open that wide with how huge Varka was.

Kyryll pulled the man into a kiss, sharing the fiery liquid, making the gentle skin of their mouths tingle because of the spirit as their tongues danced with each other. When Varka swallowed, Kyryll broke the kiss and looked into the larger man’s eyes.

“Let’s fuck.”

“What? Right now?” Varka let out a dumbfounded chuckle, not minding Kyryll sitting in his lap, rather enjoying it actually as the knight’s hand moved to the Lightkeeper’s lower back to support him in this position. 

“Yes. You got aroused by remembering that story,” Kyryl shuffled, making sure his ass brushed against Varka’s half-erect cock. “And I want to feel you inside me.”

“You want me to top?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Kyryll raised an eyebrow.

“Never would I expect you to refuse having sex with me.”

“I don’t refuse having sex,” Varka sounded a little frustrated. “I won’t let you bottom.”

“Why so?”

Varka sighed and ruffled his own hair, making it even more messy than before. Adorable.

“You know my size. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why do you think it would hurt me?”

“It’s like that with everyone. I don’t even try with women anymore because of that,” Grandmaster’s frustration was now obvious, his gesticulation growing a bit frantic. “And those few brave lads who decided to try didn’t really like it either. I don’t want to risk your comfort, whatever we have now I find more than enjoyable.”

Kyryll was looking at Varka, unimpressed, he almost seemed offended by the denial of his idea, barely noticeable pout forming on his lips.

“Venti sounded like he took it pretty easily,” the Lightkeeper reminded.

“Venti is a very different case. Plus, he’s not human.”

“I’m not human either.”

“I thought you didn’t like to involve your nature?”

“You’re shrewd, Mr. Varka. Dangerously so,” Kyryll narrowed his eyes, not a threat, but a gentle warning not to push the topic further. “Even if it wasn’t the case, would you still believe me on the same level as other people?”

“No, of course not.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Varka groaned. Why was Kyryll so insistent on this? No, Varka himself would absolutely love to fuck him, his head spinning just from the thought of Kyryll beneath him, the image of fae’s elegant body flushed with red of his own blush and Varka’s hickeys, falling apart from pleasure was driving him insane. But he couldn’t let go of the worry that wormed itself into Grandmaster’s heart. Kyryll was very different from Venti, the archon seemingly had some kind of wormhole inside him, knowing just how much he could take. Varka highly doubted Kyryll would be the same, and the last thing the knight wanted was to hurt his fae.

Grandmaster finally looked back at the Lightkeeper, still indecisive.

Kyryll was staring at him. The fae’s eyes had no pupils. Still, his usually bright yellow color went dark with arousal, making him look like a large, and very adorable, cat. Varka couldn’t help but cup his face with one hand, smiling gently when Kyryll nuzzled into the touch, not breaking eye contact. Varka appreciated how their bickering never affected Kyryll, he always seemed rather entertained, if anything. Grandmaster felt free with this man. Free to feel, free to express himself without any restraint.

“So?” Kyryll asked softly, leaning into Varka’s hand more.

Varka sighed loudly, he was too weak for this guy. 

“Alright, alright, but you’re not complaining after.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Kyryll grinned in reply and allowed himself to be dragged into another kiss.

Varka instinctively pushes the fae closer and Kyryll leans in happily. Next time they break the kiss, Kyryll nuzzles Varka’s neck, while his own hand reaches down to palm the Grandmaster’s erection through the pants. The fae smiles at the gasp that falls from Varka’s lips and moves to his ear, hot breath tickling sensitive skin.

“I actually always liked your size,” Kyryll whispered and started kissing the earlobe, ignoring the way Varka squirmed at the feeling. “I think it fits you. Just as big and strong. And I must admit, I find it adorable how it flops uselessly whenever we fuck. It’s quite unfair, don’t you think? It’s high time we fix that, isn’t it, hmm~?” 

Varka growled, Kyryll’s lewd words went straight to his dick that the Lightkeeper was massaging slowly but deliberately. Grandmaster finally snapped, kissing the smug fae and quickly undressing him. Varka’s actions were eager and powerful, but never lacked care or gentleness. 

Kyryll gasped in slight surprise when Varka stood up, lifting him along the way like he weighed nothing. Then, just as gently, Varka put the Lightkeeper on his back on the couch, showering his face and neck with kisses. His lips were soft but dry, creating a pleasant contrast whenever Varka decided to lick or nibble on Kyryll’s skin instead.

The fae threw his head back to give Varka more room and closed his eyes, enjoying the man’s kisses and touches. He could feel Varka’s weight pinning him down even despite Grandmaster’s best attempt at trying to keep himself slightly up not to squish the gentler man under him. His toned muscles pressed closely against Kyryll’s body and the Lightkeeper could feel their definition even like that, each bulge and crevice. Kyryll felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine and his hand moved to explore Varka’s toned body, appreciating the silent power that it held. Even thinking of just how strong the man was had Kyryll’s head spinning with arousal and appreciation. 

Varka let out a warm huff somewhere around Kyryll’s collarbone when he felt the fae’s tickling touch. Grandmaster raised himself, Kyryll’s hand inevitably slipping from his back to rest on his arm instead, and finally pulled the Lightkeeper's long since unzipped pants off together with his underwear. Varka sighed loudly at the sight of Kyryll’s naked body below him. His calloused fingers traced the red marks on Lightkeeper's thighs, no doubts left by the harness Kyryll wore every day. The fae looked ethereal, and it made sense. Red marks Varka left blooming like flowers on the snow that was Kyryll’s pale skin. Almost nothing betrayed just how fierce of a warrior Kyryll was. His skin smooth, not a single scar breaking its perfection. Only the tone of his muscles, and even that was a far cry from Varka’s own crude strength – Kyryll’s one was more fitting of some kind of scout or assassin, relying more on his swift deadly strikes and agility than on his raw power. Each line of his body was so smooth and elegant, like he belonged in some kind of a ball room and not on the battlefield.

Varka finally returned to reality after a bit and reached out to take a half-empty vial of oil from under the couch. He kept it in one hand, using the other to carefully take both of Kyryll’s long legs and put them on his shoulder, hugging them tightly, Grandmaster’s own erection pressed tightly against Kyryll’s ass in a position like that. Varka tilted his head, leaning onto the knee and kissing it, tug on Kyryll’s heart from just how overwhelmingly gentle Varka was with him, pure adoration in his gaze. 

“I thought you were going to ruin me?” Kyryll smiled teasingly as he was enjoying gentle touches of Varka’s soft lips and scratches of his stubble against his leg.

“Hm? Of course I am,” Varka grinned, pressing his cheek harder against Kyryll’s knee. “Me being gentle won’t change the final result.”

He looked like a happy puppy like this, nudging his owner. Kyryll could swear he almost saw a fluffy tail wagging behind Varka’s back. The Lightkeeper chuckled at the mental image, it surprisingly fit the Grandmaster. A big and fluffy dog, so friendly and overwhelmingly touchy but always careful and gentle, as if aware of its own size. And always so happy whenever given a chance to shower someone with love and care. 

Varka finally opened the vial and poured a generous amount of oil on the fingers of his free hand and dropped the vial, mindfully closed back, onto the couch. He lowered that hand reaching between Kyryll’s soft cheeks, fingers massaging the tight ring of muscles tentatively. At the same time Varka rutted against Kyryll’s supple ass, looking for just a little bit of relief of tension building in his groin, his own ministrations arousing Grandmaster beyond belief. 

He didn’t ask for permission, the look in Kyryll’s half-lidded eyes telling him everything he needed to know. Varka gently pushed one finger in, kissing Kyryll’s knee when he heard the fae gasp quietly. Varka was slightly surprised at just how tight the Lightkeeper was as he struggled even with one finger. 

“With how insistent you were…,” Varka started, placing another kiss on Kyryll’s leg to help him relax. “I’d think you prepared.”

“I was thinking about it for some time, but,” Kyryll’s voice was strained as he tried to adjust to the weird and alien, but not unpleasant feeling. It’s been too long since he’s been in the receiving position. “Did not really plan for today in particular. Pray forgive my impulsivity.”

Varka huffed at the teasing tone of Kyryll’s reply and caressed his thigh gently with the hand that was hugging it. 

“I have no choice but to forgive you and adjust accordingly,” Grandmaster chuckled. “Now relax, my moonlight, and don’t forget to breathe, alright?”

Kyryll almost moaned at the petname but nodded and took a deep breath, trying his best to relax his muscles as he felt Varka’s finger push his inner walls gently, taking his time to stretch the Lightkeeper. Luckily, due to the somewhat artificial - one may consider - nature of his human body, Kyryll was very quick to adjust. It was all too soon that one finger felt like it wasn’t enough. Kyryll buckled his hips and looked into Varka’s eyes, a silent request for more. 

Varka couldn’t deny his dearest’s request, not when he looked at him with such pleading eyes. He slowly added a second finger, at first keeping them together and then spreading apart slightly. Varka also kept close attention on Kyryll’s face. It was red with arousal, sweat budding on his temples, making his fluffy but somewhat messy bangs stick to his skin, brows knitted tightly in slight discomfort, lips parted to let the soft moans out. Varka knew firsthand that the discomfort was unavoidable and it would be better to work though it slowly than to turn it into pain later. Yet still, it didn’t sit quite right with him. He wanted Kyryll to feel good. So he decided to shift his focus for a bit. Instead of trying to spread his fingers as far as possible, Varka pressed them back together and pushed them deeper.

“Varka,” the fae whimpered, tears forming in the corners of his eyes from pleasure.

“Yes, my moonlight?” Varka purred, rubbing his chin against Kyryll’s knee with a satisfied grin. 

Kyryll didn’t reply, only moaned something incomprehensible and tried to push himself onto Varka’s fingers, to make him go deeper. 

“There, there, patience, my dear,” Varka chuckled softly, clinging to the Lightkeeper’s legs tighter in a futile attempt to steady him. “We need to get you nice and ready for me.”

“Faster,” Kyryll whined. “I can take it.”

“I am sure you can,” Varka sighed fondly, with just a slight hint of tiredness from this back and forth of theirs. Grandmaster finally let go of Kyryll’s legs, letting them fall by his sides only so he can lean down without needing to fold his lover in two. “But I want you to also feel good during it. So be patient,” Varka whispered against the fae’s lips.

“Please,” a whisper against his. 

Varka sighed and put a chaste kiss on the corner of Kyryll’s lips. He was too weak for him. How could he refuse when Kyryll was pleading like that?

“Alright, but only a little,” Varka finally agreed and added a third finger, watching Kyryll hiss at the intrusion. “You can hold onto me. Bite, if you need.” 

With those words Varka lowered himself to shower Kyryll’s hair with kisses, whispering sweet, calming nothings into the fae’s ear, Grandmaster’s neck and shoulder in full access for the Lightkeeper. Kyryll took the offer willingly, mouthing onto Varka’s shoulder, his finely trimmed nails scratching at the larger man’s muscular back as Varka changed his approach to stretching him.

Varka’s fingers now pressed against his soft walls with much more strength. Still far from being painful, but much more uncomfortable. Kyryll’s breath was heavy and he did his best to focus instead on Varka’s low rumble of a voice in his ear or Varka’s warm skin under his tongue.

Just as promised, Varka hurried the process slightly, though he still took breaks to focus on Kyryll’s prostate again, making the man under him moan wantonly and hump Grandmaster’s stomach now that his dick was pressed against it.

Still, Varka knew how big he was and took his time. By the time he was satisfied with Kyryll’s looseness his whole neck and shoulders were covered in bites and hickeys, back aching in a weirdly pleasant way from all the scratches.

Oh and the way Kyryll looked. Completely disheveled, gaze hazy, drooling and whimpering even when Varka wasn’t doing anything. Any regret Varka could potentially have about this whole idea disappeared completely as soon as he looked at Kyryll. So cute, so beautiful, so sweet, so tempting. 

Varka kissed the fae, catching the dissatisfied moan when pulled out his fingers.

“Are you ready? May I?”

“Don’t… ask stupid q-questions.”

Varka chuckled at how annoyed and impatient Kyryll sounded, he was rather cute like that. Varka even caught a naughty thought of teasing the Lightkeeper more often just to see his reactions, but that had to wait. 

With a loud sigh Grandmaster raised himself, something dark in him humming happily at the sight of Kyryll whining at the lack of his warmth on top of him, and took the almost forgotten vial of oil. He opened it yet again and poured it generously over his dick and Kyryll’s entrance, he knew it was necessary. Varka’s breath hitched when he positioned the tip against the - not as tight as it used to be - ring of muscles, pushing slightly, nearly not enough to get inside, but more that enough to make Kyryll moan eagerly and buckle his hips, silently begging Varka to hurry. 

The larger man frowned instead. 

Kyryll was probably still too tight for him, he should have spent even more time preparing his lover. Varka was very patient, especially when it concerned his loved ones, but seeing Kyryll unraveled under him like that, his moans spilling because of the Grandmaster, his body shaking and twitching at Varka’s slightest touch, it all ate at the knight’s sanity, clouded his mind and made him more feral than he would ever dare to admit. Varka’s own arousal was growing unbearable, there were more than one occurrence when he had to sneak his hand away to pump his aching cock, just to get some stimulation, just to try to calm the nagging need. He couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could Kyryll, were his flushed, drooling face and writhing body a clue. 

Another buckle of Kyryll’s hips brought Varka back to reality as he noticed the growing annoyance in the Lightkeeper’s eyes. When Varka didn’t move, still lost in admiration of his lover, Kyryll raised his leg and pushed his foot against Varka’s cheek, trying to find a way to shake the man out of this stupid trance of his. 

Varka raised his eyebrows, eyes widening slightly at the unexpected action from the fae, but a wide grin quickly replaced his surprised expression. Kyryll didn’t even have time to register the shift before Varka’s tongue touched his toes, making the Lightkeeper throw his head back with a surprised gasp that turned into a moan. Kyryll tried to move his foot away but failed miserably as it was caught by Varka’s hand. Grandmaster’s eyes, glistening with the devious tease, never stopped watching Kyryll, shaking and whimpering under Varka as he kept licking and kissing his toes. He refused to let go, enjoying how the wet tingle of his tongue on Kyryll’s sensitive skin made the fae fall apart, completely forgetting why he got in such a position in the first place. 

Varka chuckled and with a final kiss to the side of Kyryll’s thumb finally let go, still grinning stupidly. He supported Kyryll’s leg so it lowered slowly and then moved his hand up, caressing the soft thigh before grasping his hip tightly. Now that Kyryll was too busy steadying his breath and trying to collect himself, Varka had an opportunity to go at his own pace.

Not giving Kyryll a chance to recover, Varka finally started pushing in, slowly, taking deep breaths and stopping to steady himself from time to time. He was right, Kyryll was tight.  

He started moving, each thrust calculated. Slow pull out into a sharp but aimed push in, deep and hitting all the best spots, making Kyryll cry out and grasp at Varka’s forearms. His rhythm was steady. Varka was so focused on making Kyryll feel good despite his own resolve slowly cracking. It was so tight inside the Lightkeeper, so wet, so hot, the way his walls were refusing to let go when Varka tried to pull out was affecting his restraint in the most awful manner. 

Varka bottomed out once more and, moving his hair away from his sweaty forehead, took a look at the man beneath him.

Kyryll threw an arm over his eyes instinctively covering up his red face, only for Varka to lean down and take his hand. Grandmaster brought it to his lips and planted a gentle kiss, smiling. 

“Don’t cover up, you wanted this so much, allow me to at least watch you react,” Varka said teasingly with a small thrust to highlight his words. Kyryll keened at the feeling and glared at Varka but his eyes immediately softened once he noticed with how much love and adoration the man was looking at him, pressing Kyryll’s hand tighter to his lips only to get more of him, to feel closer. 

Varka let go of Kyryll’s hand, instead moving his own to the fae’s stomach, both men gasping when it brushed against the slight bulging there, pressing softly.

The bulge on Kyryl’s belly was not nearly as noticeable as it was on Venti, after all, Kyryll wasn’t that much smaller than Varka, at least in height. Still, seeing that small bump appear on Kyryll’s tummy whenever Varka was deep enough was maddening. Varka growled when he noticed the soft moans that fell from Kyryll’s lips when he couldn’t hold back a sharper thrust. Kyryll was so beautiful like that, his voice music to the Grandmaster’s ears. Varka felt the last line of his restraint collapse, his thrusts growing faster and harder as he leaned down, capturing Kyryll’s lips in a hungry kiss, catching each moan with a vain satisfaction. It was him who made the Lightkeeper look like that, sound like that, it’s by his touch the fae fell apart, devoting his whole existence to Varka. Nothing else mattered in the moment. Only Varka, only his soft kisses, his calloused but gentle hands, his erratic thrusts, reaching so deep inside that Kyryll’s eyes rolled back in extasy. 

Varka’s head was spinning. Kyryll felt so good, was so beautiful under him, so hot, so perfect. Grandmaster was so focused on chasing his own pleasure and enjoying everything Kyryll could give him that he didn’t notice the uncompromising prickling feeling in his nose. It was only when a crimson drop silently fell onto Kyryll’s chest that Varka noticed the peculiar wetness he at first mistook for sweat. Cursing under his breath, Varka distances himself and tries to cover his bleeding nose with the side of his palm.

Kyryll blinks, somewhat dumbfounded, and then his unfocused gaze drifts to the drop of blood on his chest. As if in some kind of trance, the fae swipes it with a finger and then, after bringing his eyes back to look at Varka, licks the blood off.

Varka feels the whole world around him sway. The way Kyryll looked while savoring his blood was way too hot. Too much.

The palm barely helps against the bleeding, red dribbling off it, seeping under it, the flow quiet but heavy. Just after a few moments of silence it is Kyryll’s turn to grab Varka’s hand and pull it to his lips, kissing and licking off the blood like he was not a fae, but a real vampire to whom Varka’s blood was an ambrosia that kept him alive.

Varka moans and starts moving again. It isn’t long until he falls back on top of Kyryll, his rhythm uneven, while the fae himself contently pulls the larger man closer and kisses him, enjoying the salty iron on Varka’s lips. From time to time he got distracted to lick off the crimson stream above Varka’s lips.

To Kyryll’s dismay, it stopped just as suddenly as it started, only the taste of iron on their lips and tongues reminding of what just happened. That, and just how dizzy and lust-addled Varka looked, his face flushed, eyes wild and hair messy. There was little left of that gentle, caring man from the beginning. He was hungrily chasing his own pleasure, all the mindfulness drowned by arousal and desire.

He looked so cute like that, so lost in pleasure. Kyryll felt the surge of satisfied possessiveness wash over him. Varka was always so careful and thoughtful with him, yet in the end it was Kyryll who made Varka’s thoughts disappear, overturned by the desire for the fae that now had the absolute authority over Grandmaster’s mind. His instincts purred in satisfaction at the thought of just how tightly the man was wrapped around Kyryll’s finger. 

Yet there was still something bothering the Lightkeeper’s fae nature, scratching at the back of his mind even when he himself was lost in pleasure. Especially when he was lost in pleasure, when his rational mind subdued, giving room for feelings and emotions. Kyryll’s fey instincts were nudging at him, whispering, demanding he lay his own claim on Varka, make him truly and completely his. Kyryll tried his best to fight this urge. Yes, Varka was his treasure, but he wasn’t his possession, he couldn’t just go ahead and mark him like he was his belonging.

When Varka hit that place deep inside him again, Kyryll’s stomach bulging, the fae felt the last traces of his sensibility slipping away. He moaned wantonly and reached out to hug Varka, to bring him closer to himself, feeling the man’s comforting weight and warmth, sensing his musky scent, making him go even deeper. Varka growled but continued to thrust his hips, his eyes never leaving Kyryll’s face, drinking deep of the look of pure ecstasy.

When the larger man reached out to kiss off the tears of pleasure on Kyryll’s cheek, the fae leaned into Varka’s neck, breathing in deep before moving his palm onto the knight’s chest, somewhere around his heart. A second, and a bright blue flame burst in there, making Varka gasp and pull back in surprise. 

It didn’t hurt. He was just taken aback by the sudden bright light and a jolt of warming pleasure that struck him in that area. Looking down, Varka noticed a single blue flame engraved right on top of his heart.

Varka distanced himself so suddenly that it brought some sense into Flins. He looked at the marking with the same amount of shock as Varka, as if it wasn’t the Lightkeeper who left it in the first place.

A voice in his head noted just how good it looked on Varka. 

Usually, back in his time, Kyryll would leave his family crest on his belongings, but that was long ago and it didn’t seem appropriate or fitting for this Kyryll to use it. Something more personal, something that showed not his current social status but his true nature would be a better fit. 

He did not regret choosing it. The regret of actually doing it all - that what was washing over him, despite his inner fae giggling in delight from seeing his treasure marked in such a way. 

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t… I can–,” Kyryll slurred, his brain, muddled with pleasure, was still struggling to form a coherent thought, an anxious anticipation of Varka’s reaction not helping the case. 

Varka didn’t let him continue, leaning back down to caress his face gently.

“Shh, it’s alright. I don’t mind it. It actually looks rather nice. I would just like a little warning beforehand.” Varka laughed, his own words slow and measured as if he had to put too much effort just to think, let alone talk. 

“Sorry…”

Varka replied to that with a kiss, calm and gentle, the animalistic fervor disappearing at the slightest hint of lucidity, as if trying to convince Kyryll he was fine with the whole marking thing.

“Do you want to continue?” The Grandmaster asked quietly, tentatively thrusting his hips.

Kyryll lost his breath, a warm wave of pleasure covering him whole yet again. He let out a quiet moan and nodded. Of course he wanted to continue, why wouldn’t he, when it felt so good and his lover accepted his claim on him so readily? 

Varka smiled and, with another gentle kiss at Kyryll’s lips, returned to the task at hand. His pace returned to being stable, his thrust getting much slower, but more measured, aiming deeper, making the Lightkeeper arch his back each time Varka hit that spot inside him. 

Kyryll’s moans were growing louder, nails digging into Varka’s forearms as he was nearing his release, falling apart just so sweetly, so content with being filled to his limits, so happy to have his claim on Varka. Kyryll shuddered, his cock twitching wildly as it shot semen onto his stomach. The fae whimpered, his body relaxing, only to cry out once Varka bottomed out deep inside him again, showing no signs of stopping. Varka kept fucking him through his release, more seed spilling weakly with each deep thrust, as if Grandmaster tried to make sure Kyryll was truly empty by the end of this. 

With his own orgasm approaching, Varka growled and pulled out, earning a displeased moan from Kyryll. Varka needed only a couple of pumps with his own hand to cum, thick white ropes shooting to fall onto Kyryll’s stomach, mixing with the fae’s own seed. 

Varka took a few deep breaths, riding the warm, relaxing pleasure washing over him, and, having calmed down his racing heartbeat a little, fell beside Kyryll and, completely ignoring the fact that they were still covered in their spent, pulled limp and completely relaxed Lightkeeper close into his embrace, warm and strong, comforting in its weight. 

Letting the comfortable silence fall between them as they were catching their breaths and riding the post-orgasmic bliss in each other’s hands.

They both could continue. They felt they could just after a few minutes. Varka had unhuman stamina and Kyryll literally wasn’t human. Unfortunately, they both had duties to attend to. So they couldn’t afford to stay in bed for half a day, leaving the Lightkeeper unable to walk. Both understood the situation without the need to discuss it. The fae sighed and, closing his eyes, called for his flame, blue light enveloping both men. It wasn’t scorching hot, quite the opposite - almost chilly, calming their leftover excitement and cleansing them from all the evidence of their little fun. Varka never got tired of finding this specialty of his lover rather convenient. 

Holding the fae in his embrace like this, simultaneously so fragile and so strong, Varka couldn't help but feel his heart squeeze with the fondness he felt towards Kyryll. Varka nuzzled into Lightkeer’s hair, inhaling his scent, and closed his eyes. Maybe he was drunk.

“I love you,” Grandmaster says quietly.

It’s been some time he’s realized his feelings, yet it somehow never felt appropriate to say it out loud. He and Kyryll often understood each other without words and something like that seemed to fall into the category of their silent mutual understanding. After what just happened, though, Varka felt the urgent need to say those words, heavy on the tongue but fluttering at his heart.

Kyryll tensed in Varka’s arms when he heard the phrase and felt his fingers tremble slightly. It was something he feared. He was long gone, but kept persuading himself that it won’t hurt as much later if they don’t spell those words out. Kyryll hid his face in Varka’s large and soft chest, unable to answer. He loved him too. Too much. More than he ever should. He had already once lost everything and now wasn’t sure if he would be able to bear something akin to that once more. Human life is beautiful, not in the least because of how fleeting it is. Yet in the case of Varka, Kyryll couldn’t chase away the thoughts. The thoughts of the knight’s warmth that once the fae would get used to, he would never be able to carry on without.

Varka, sensing Kyryll’s distress, sighed heavily and pulled the Lightkeeper tighter into his embrace, calming him with his weight that Grandmaster knew the fae enjoyed a lot.

“You don’t have to answer,” Varka whispered once he felt the tremble in Kyryll’s fingers subdue. “I just wanted to let you know how serious I am about all of this. How ready I am to belong only to you. I can talk to Venti, if you want. You know, about removing the mark.”

Kyryll doesn’t reply immediately, listening to Varka’s rhythmic, if somewhat accelerated heartbeat.

“No need to. I rather enjoy the looks of it.”

Varka laughs and smooches the crown of Kyryll’s head, the fae himself giggling quietly at the fond gesture.

They stayed quiet, enjoying the silence and comforting presence of each other. After some time, Varka shifted into a more comfortable position, laying on his back as he allowed Kyryll to plaster on top of him, the Lightkeeper’s head still on one of Varka’s pecs like it was a cushion. Grandmaster’s gaze involuntarily fell on his own naked torso. The mark Kyryll left on his chest was vivid blue, contrasting with his pale skin. It was only Varka’s light-colored body hair that slightly subdued the loudness of it. 

Now to think of it, his anemo mark, when visible, was also slightly covered by his happy trail. An idea popped into Grandmaster’s head.

“Want me to shave then? So the marks are more visible?”

Kyryll, who before that was idly brushing his fingers over Varka’s body, tracing each line of his muscles, every old scar and new hickey and scratch Kyryll left on him, froze and looked up into the knight’s eyes, his own gaze suddenly going dark.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, grabbing Varka’s arm like he was going to do it right now. 

Varka raised his eyebrow in surprise, trying his best not to laugh. He did not do well, falling into loud laughter just in a few moments. Kyryll sighed with fondness and let himself laugh along with his beloved, as he was very inclined to do so recently. Varka really was a ray of sunshine breaking through the eternal night the fae so loved to shroud himself in. Yet Kyryll didn’t mind. In fact, he hoped that Varka would never stop doing that, that he would stay his light forever.