#fishapple

you rapidly came to the conclusion that it was both as your legs, slowly but surely, turned to jelly when the door opened widely before you…

…and caleb’s slouched figure greeted your hazy eyes.  

he was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, half a cigarette dangling between his lips, but he perked up immediately when he heard the door. he has been oh so gracefully announced of your visit by none other than rafayel — his dear delinquent buddy.

caleb knew you were off-limits, rafayel made that clear the last time he tried to pull something with you. caleb also knew that rafayel doesn’t share his toys — and with you, he seemed awfully… enamored.

but caleb wasn’t dumb to refuse a chance to see you, to drink you in with his hungry gaze, to make you squirm with his disgusting words.

“ah, finally! i though you were planning to ditch me, raf.” he chimed the moment the door closed behind you two, instantly closing up his phone and throwing it away on an adjacent table.

“you didn’t give me reasons to, so don’t start now.” the answer was curt, vitriolic, yet caleb didn’t seem to take it at face value — he just chuckled, taking a deep puff from his cigarette, as if he wasn’t just threatened.

then he moved his attention on you.

you were still the same as the last time he saw you: wearing the standard uniform, long skirt brushing the tops of your polished shoes. the white shirt was ironed to a crisp, the buttons closed up to the base of your neck.

so proper, so modest… so fucking delicious to ruin.

“hi, sweetheart! i’ve heard you wanna talk to me. is that right, hm?”

his tone, sweet and soft, hovered across the room towards you, together with the fumes of his cigarette. the tobacco smell pinched your nose, making you grimace slightly, but his voice made your demeanor waver harder — your polite smile quivered, your throat tightened.

your hole gaped and more wetness drooled down into your panties.

“answer him, princess!” rafayel muttered from behind, hand pushing slightly against your lower back, forcing you to shorten the distance between you and caleb. “don’t be rude to him.”

“y–yes, i do.” you mustered up, flustered. you tried your best to maintain eye contact with his purple orbs, but the amethyst was too powerful, thus pushing your gaze down towards the floorboards.

“and phhh– why is that?” caleb took one last inhale from his cigarette, mid sentence, before dropping the butt on the floor and stomping it with his shoe.

“well, i–” you began, but were soon interrupted by rafayel’s hand snaking up your back and… clasping its digits around your throat.

“c’mon, princess, look him in the eyes when you talk to him.” he clicked his tongue as his fingers contracted around the base of your neck, fingertips digging nicely into your skin. “i thought i trained you better than this.”

and you, always the obedient girl, heed his words and raised your gaze from the floor — meeting a wide grin and two lust-filled violet eyes. oh, caleb was enjoying this as much as rafayel did, feeding on the submissiveness you were showcasing.

even if it wasn’t for him.

“good fucking girl, that’s more like it. now, tell caleb what you told me.”

what you told me or rather what rafayel told you to say. the little favour that dangled from his poisonous lips two weeks ago, the little thank-you plan he concocted in order to degrade you further.

to mold you into his perfect little toy.

“i–i wanted to…” you began, and you could feel rafayel’s hand tighten its grip on your throat, almost threateningly. if you didn’t hold your part of the deal, he would most likely snap. “t–thank you for helping me.”

“hm, helping you?” caleb, most likely on purpose, played dumb, tilting his head to the side and urging you to clarify your words.

“y–yes, helping me um–”

this time your cracking voice was caused by caleb himself, who decided to raise from his seat and close in on you. now, almost two steps away from your body, he was towering over you. his kind smile was never wiped from his lips, but you could sense the undenying darkness behind it.

the hidden urge to dominate you.

“m–make up with rafayel.”

“oh, that.” he leaned down, and, without a second thought, cupped your chin with his hand. you’ve expected rafayel to complain, to slap his hand away from his girl and put him back in his place.

but he didn’t.

you couldn’t see it, but rafayel’s smirk deepened, as if a silent understanding between the two activated with caleb’s initiatory touch.

“mhm, you’re welcome, sweetheart!” he aimlessly muttered back as his thumb grazed your lower lip, pulling it down so your mouth opened for him. “do i get something in return? is that why you’re here?”

ding ding ding. right on the money.

“oh, my, how did you know?” rafayel’s voice, high-pitched and powdered in faux surprise, boomed, marking the fact that the two men did, in fact, discuss this beforehand.

or at least part of it.

“just a smart guess.” tooting his own horn, of course. “tell me, sweetheart, what do i get for being sooooo nice to you?”

“oh, she’s gonna show you.” rafayel clarified, moving his hand away from your neck — at last — and returning it to your lower back. “go on, princess, thank caleb.”

now your cheeks burned a violent, humiliated shade. your legs trembled beneath the modest length of your long skirt as more cum splattered onto your undergarments.

as you were finally faced with the situation you’ve agreed to weeks ago.

rafayel positioned you just like last time, bent slightly at the waist against the edge of a table, your palms flat on the wood. but this time, behind you stood caleb, rafayel gracefully taking the position at your sides.

to walk you through it all.

“c’moooon.” rafayel sang, his voice honeyed yet tinged with lust. one hand possessively cupped your nape, while the other guided your fingers to the material of your skirt. “show him. show caleb what a good girl you are.”

you hesitated, fingers clutching your skirt, and a whine caught in your throat from discomfort. rafayel’s grip tightened — a habit recently developed when playing with you, signaling the unspoken promise of harsh consequences in case of disobedience.

“don’t be shy. he fixed us, remember? you owe him a thank you.”

so you acted.

with shaking hands, you gathered the soft fabric of your skirt and drew it slowly up your shins, past your knees, past the soft, marked skin of your thighs. you kept going until the material bunched at your lower back, exposing the swell of your ass to the smoke-filled air of the room.

“ugh–”

caleb made a harsh sound at the view, a mix between a choke and a groan.

a thong, just like he suggested last time, which was immediately dragged to your ankles by rafayel.

and between your ass cheeks, nestled snug and gleaming, was the end of a violet gem.

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck–

the butt plug’s base caught the overhead light, winking at caleb like a depraved jewel.

that was the favour: rafayel had planned this for weeks — the sizing, the stretching, the way he’d made you wear it for hours before you even knocked on caleb’s door.

the famous ass lover.

“shitttttt.” caleb breathed the curse word, almost falling to his knees at the view.

his eyes were wide, dark, utterly fixated on the sight before him. the tent in his pants grew unmistakable, straining against the fabric like never before.

his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you could see the primal hunger.

just like rafayel expected.

he grinned, a slow, proud curl of his mouth, as he studied caleb’s expression from the side. “look at that, princess! told you he’d appreciate it.” and with a small tap on your ass, he nudged your hip wider.

“now spread. let him really see that stretched asshole.”

you wanted to die. you wanted to sink through the floor.

you wanted caleb to close in and touch you until you passed out.

ah, it was all so confusing.

but not for your body. your body obeyed rafayel like it always did, like it had been trained to do. you fastly reached back with your two hands, gripped your own cheeks, and pulled them apart.

“a–ah…”

the plug shifted inside you from the pull, and you couldn’t help the thin, broken moan that escaped.

and neither could caleb.

“oh, sweetheart.”

the violet gem sat flush against your rim, gleaming obscenely. inviting caleb to come closer and take it as prize.

but would rafayel allow it? would he–

“touch it.” he encouraged suddenly, voice syrupy, as if caleb’s prayers have been heard. “go on. she likes it when you play with the base. don’t you, princess?”

“mhmm…”

“you want caleb to play with your cute butt plug, hmm?”

you nodded frantically, whines webbing your mouth, because yes — gods help you — you did want it.

caleb’s fingers, calloused and warm, much thicker than rafayel’s, brushed against the cool stone. and, without further invitations, he pressed ever so slightly.

and you cried out, your back arching against the table.

the plug pushed deeper, and then pulled back, and again and again and again. caleb was moving it restlessly as he finally grasped the flimsy base between his fingers. admiring the way the metal was swallowed by your hole — the rim following the movement, expanding and contracting across the descending width of the plug.

“you’re so fucking hot, goddamn.” caleb whispered, fascinated, rock hard from pushing and pulling at your plug.

and when he decided to twist the gem, moving the metal inside you like a screw, you saw stars.

whine after whine spilled from your lips, higher and more desperate than the previous one.

rafayel watched it all proudly, teasingly brushing his hand against his own growing cock. he was hard too, so so turned on by his pathetic girl, but his pleasure wasn’t important right now.

it was this — the sight of you, the perfect girl, reduced to a whimpering mess for his amusement. and caleb, stupid caleb, was just a tool for rafayel to live out his fantasies.

“pull it out, caleb.” rafayel said, stroking your hair with false tenderness. “you didn’t think this was all, did you?” he turned your head by the chin, forcing your aroused face towards caleb. needing you to see him lose composure fully at the reveal.

“a gift always comes nicely packaged.”

what could he possibly mean– oh.

“no fucking way.” was all caleb said as he completely removed the plug, letting it fall to the ground as a white, sticky substance bubbled from your hole. “is that–?”

“you’re actually dumb if you believe i’d let you take her asshole first.” rafayel partially answered the question, confirming indirectly that you were, indeed, plugged up with his cum inside your ass.

and to clarify it even further, to solidify his point that caleb has you only under rafayel’s terms… he smacked your cheek, causing more of his semen to ooze down to your soaked, neglected cunt.

“clean up my girl for me, will you?”

you watched and waited, half expecting caleb to burst from rafayel’s behaviour and start a fight, half hoping he’d eat you out and make you see stars.

caleb did not disappoint.

with a desire you’ve only read in books, caleb gripped your ass cheeks with his hands, spread you wide, and nestled his face between them. sparing no extra minutes in devouring your cum-filled hole with his wet tongue.

“oh my godddd.” you exhaled as he licked and sucked, dipping his tongue inside and scooping more of rafayel’s cum for his hungry mouth. “ah, ah– c–caleb.”

“is he doing good, princess? is he eating that pretty asshole like a needy dog?”

“nghhh– y–yes, yeshh.”

and he truly was, lapping at your hole like his life depends on it. like he hasn’t eaten in ages.

“there’s so much cum inside her…” rafayel decided to give a backstory, yet it was barely audible through the wet noises of caleb’s mouth and the moans from your lips. “ah, i think we did it between classes like– four times, was it, princess?”

but you couldn’t answer, not when caleb’s fingers were digging holes into your skin from his powerful clutch, not when your hole was gaping around his wet muscle.

getting drenched with caleb’s saliva and rafayel’s emerging cum.

“aw, is that–? caaaaleb, are you gonna cum in your pants from eating my sloppy seconds?”

no verbal answer from caleb, but rafayel could see the way his hips were restless, humping the air with every slurp of your asshole.

“let’s help him, yeah? thank caleb as he cums, princess!”

your lips parted immediately at the order. your voice came out wrecked, barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for caleb to hear. “th–nk yo–, cal–b.”

his hips jerked involuntarily one last time, and through his pants you could see the unmistakable dark spot spreading at the tip.

fuck, he really came untouched in a few minutes — from your humiliation, from the way you trembled so beautifully for him.

from the way your used asshole tasted on his tongue.

“shit, sweetheart.” caleb rasped as he finally released your ass with an wet pop, hands flying away and allowing your cheeks to smush back together. his lower face was soaked in cum and saliva, yet he managed to speak out.

wishing to praise. “you’re–”

“mine.” rafayel finished for him, a sharp reminder that what happened today was thanks to his generosity.

he absentmindedly caressed your face with his soft fingers, dipping into your hair and tracing around your scalp. you, drunk on lust, immediately nuzzled into him. confirming silently the identity of your owner.

and with that, rafayel looked at caleb over the shoulder, dark amusement in every line of his face.

“you’re welcome, caleb.”

©pearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

It did make you miss dancing, though. Something you had stopped doing when you had first moved to Linkon. You never found a place that just ... fit.

It was a surprise when the ad came up, though it shouldn't have been with how much you watched that teams videos. There was an open studio day with the company at the Linkon Complex. Anyone could join.

Anxiety shot through your nerves like wildfire; equal in excitement and fear about stepping into a studio once more.

All week, before the date, you went back and forth about going, many times nearly talking yourself out of it.

But when Saturday came around, you dressed like you always did for practices, grabbed your bag, an extra water, and headed that way, anyway.

You figured, at least, even if you were a bit rusty, you could get a nice view of their ass the whole time.

It started well enough. Small talk with some others that seemed just as shy as you. Stretching, some improv to just play and get comfortable again.

And then the work started. It was a simple routine, the bridge and chorus to 'Do It' by Stray Kids. The choreo was fast paced, a nod to the KPop group while also being unique to the two of them. It flowed well, had a few moments for adding your own flair, and you found your heart racing and lost yourself to the music multiple times in the absolute best way.

After the lesson itself, and a few group run throughs, you were grouped off to do it in small sections. A waiver had been signed before you were allowed in that, if they liked your performance, they could use it in one of their videos on the team site.

You signed it without thought, confident enough that after being out of practice for so long, you weren't going into a compilation video any time soon.

Which was why you had to pick your jaw off the floor when Caleb picked you for being one of the three behind them for their recording.

Thought you were going to combust when Rafayel switched you from the right side to the middle, where you would be framed by them in the shot.

Holy hell you needed to chill out. You could not screw this one up.

Caleb announced you would be doing this twice - once for fun and to shake out nerves, and the other time for filming.

Based on the whoosh of air from the people on either side of you, the three of you all needed that first run through. And it did, wonderfully, seem to balance out nerves for everyone.

The second run through was better - cleaner - and it was clear the five of you were just enjoying the music more than anything.

As it all wrapped up, Rafayel thanked everyone for coming, and announced to keep an eye on their email. Thomas, the social media manager, would be pushing out the video to everyone when it was up.

Exhausted in the best possible way, you walked over to your bag as the purple haired man was then swarmed by most of the other attendees. With a shake of your head, you grabbed your bag, took a swig of water, and turned to slip out the door.

Sunset eyes blocked your path, and you nearly jumped out of your skin from the proximity. When had he gotten behind you?

A light chuckle escaped him as he stood to full height. "You're not half bad, but I don't think I've seen you in any of the classes at the studio before. What's your name?"

You told him, shyly, and explained you were fairly new in Linkon, and hadn't been part of a company. It was just something you've always done for fun.

"Well, I think you should come back here to 'have fun' more often," a second voice drawled from behind you. Hands on his hips, Rafayel bent down toward you with those ocean-on-fire eyes. "You complement the both of us well with how you move."

"Not everyone has talent to connect with music the way you do," Caleb continued, causing you to twist around again. He was closer - close enough that when you leaned back, you bumped into his partner's chest. "You work really well between the two of us."

Every nerve in your body was a live wire, between the wording, the opportunity, and the proximity.

Rafayel's voice had you twisting around once more. "What do you say, cutie? Wanna be our third?"

You don't think you've said yes to anything faster in your life.

This place. This house. This life. Within these four walls lie six souls– displaced and rewritten. With memories of a world beyond this one. Was it before? Adjacent? You were struggling to cope with where it all lie. If you were to map out the universe, where were you now? And where were the past versions of you? 

Contemplating the multiverse, the complexity of dimensions, and redundancy of time was making your head ache. It didn’t help that everything felt a little up in the air at the moment. 

Zayne recalling his memory was a celebratory, joyful thing. It certainly eased some anxiety on your part, and the hole in your heart in the shape of Zayne was finally, fully filled. However, this restoration was not without its drawbacks. 

Firstly, the Zayne who founded the sanctuary was a very quiet man. Words were something to be shared sparingly and only very precisely. A side effect of his fickle foresight. However, your modern Zayne was forthright with his feelings and his thoughts, and this disparagement seemed to be leaving him tongue tied. Fighting against the desire to speak and the fear of what it might do to the future. 

Next, it brought up the confounding realization that you were one of six people who– for all intents and purposes– didn’t belong here. With memories of a world beyond, were you creatures of displacement? Had the spell created this world? Or simply dropped the six of you into it?

Lastly, the others didn’t quite know how to act. 

Rafayel was the first to arrive home, and the moment he stepped into the living room he could sense something was amiss. You weren’t sure if it was written plainly in your face or he somehow scented it on Zayne’s skin. 

The sea god crowded you and Zayne, demanding answers. Demanding to know how this happened. After you managed to explain, Rafayel nearly collapsed in a mighty sigh of relief. 

“Finally.” Rafayel groaned, running his hand over his face, “I’m sorry Zayne, but this tip toeing around your amnesiatic butt has been exhausting.”

You can’t help but laugh, and your heart flutters to see the fond look in Zayne’s eyes. The slightest shift in Zayne’s arm invited Rafayel in, and the siren let his head fall against the other man’s shoulder. 

Another heavy sigh left Rafayel’s lips, tension dissolving from his shoulders as he let himself sink his weight against Zayne fully. 

“This is going to make the next couple of weeks so much easier,” Rafayel mumbles, and with a slight shake of his head he nuzzles a bit closer, “You can request time off around the end of April right?”

Zayne blinks and looks to you, silently searching for answers to Rafayel’s non sequitur. Even after you ponder it, you can only shrug.

With a small, amused snort, Zayne replies, “I can.”

“Good.” Rafayel hums and lifts his head. He pats Zayne’s arm twice, “It’s good you’re all put back together, Zayne. You were kind of boring otherwise.”

You give Rafayel a firm poke in the forehead, “He was not. He was perfect either way.”

Rafayel hisses and backs off, “C’mon cutie, you never call me perfect. Do you only sing my praises when I’m not looking? So cruel to me.”

“Oh yeah, I’m so cruel.” You tease, and you find yourself distracted by Rafayel drawing you over to the couch. His whines of his latest headache with his manager are muffled into the fabric of your shirt as he lies his head in your lap. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting from Rafayel— excitement? Maybe a few tears? But with his head nestled on your thighs, you realize that isn’t really Rafayel’s thing.

Despite the relief or the joy he might be feeling, Rafayel only lets it show through his hands. Hiding away that vulnerable reaction like an oyster hides a pearl. Though, through his nimble fingers you feel him tremble. Shaking with the release of tension from the core of his body. 

A sentiment you share, as the final pieces of your crumbling fresco mystically come back together. 

Zayne and Rafayel shared a skill of singular focus. The ability to let the world around them dissolve away and lose themselves in the task in front of them: painting, surgery, or some other nefarious deed. It made them kindred in a way, only each other understanding the loss of senses when drowned in passion.

When Xavier arrives home, he finds Caleb in the kitchen (the only place in the house the brunet is truly comfortable besides your bed). It’s nearly supper time and there’s slabs of marinated skirt steak sizzling in a cast iron skillet.

Zayne is sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning against the arm. His glasses sit lower on his nose as he reads through a thick medical journal. You lean against his chest, snoozing soundly with his arm wrapped around your waist. 

His hand rests atop Rafayel’s mop of plum colored hair, fingers wound in the wavy strands. Rafayel rests on his stomach with his head in your lap, arms up and draped across your hips and lightly holding onto Zayne’s shirt. 

Zayne looks up from the journal for a moment and drops the bombs of his restored memory in the most casual inconsequential way. 

Caleb, from the kitchen, nearly drops the knife he was using to cut mushrooms. Why did he say it so nonchalantly? Like an update on dinner plans and not some life-altering change to their entire relationship. 

Xavier didn’t react largely. Only approached the trio lounging on the couch in the quiet, jaguar prowl. Kneeling at Zayne’s feet, Xavier just looked at him for a while. Searching his partner’s hazel eyes for signs of deceit or jest. When none was found, the blond smiled softly and nodded. 

“My oath remains the same.” Xavier informs, “In all lives. In all worlds. I will keep that promise.”

Zayne lowers his booklet and lets it fall closed, “Your debt has been paid ten fold at this point. Surely that oath is not the only reason you stay?”

A vulnerable crease appears in Xavier’s brow, drawn together with the tight sting of uncertainty, “No, of course not.”

When you stir, you’re surprised by the soft affection Xavier gifts you with. Soft kisses that feel like a gentle thank you, and simultaneously like a welcome home. He pushes into you like he might try to climb up into the pile you’ve formed on the couch with your other lovers, but is stopped when Rafayel whines at him and pinches him in the side. 

Xavier laughs and the sound it sparkles like starlight. Pure, gorgeous joy, unfiltered by atmosphere or darkness. Your prince cradles the sides of your face and thanks you softly, whispers his gratitude against your lips for something you’re not quite sure of. 

Zayne’s hand tightens on your waist, and the cool shimmer of his evol leaks through your shirt. It feels like sparks with the way it seeps into your skin and makes your incendiary heart light up. You are nothing but dry straw to their light– wretched and waiting like a pyre to be burned in their honor.

What starts as sweet steadily becomes warmer. A little frog in a pot surrounded by snakes. Zayne draws you into his chest, letting you sit fully in his lap while Rafayel sits up and holds tightly onto your knees– drawing them apart so Xavier can slot in between them. 

As Xavier’s lips leave yours to drag down your neck and to your collarbone. The expanse of your throat is an unmarked parchment that he writes love notes to you with his tongue. A contract he signed with his teeth that sells his soul. 

Zayne pulls your head to the side to kiss you, the turn is a slight strain but you like it. You like feeling twisted up in them, stretched to your limits to please them. Your beloved doctor is hungry, and he craves the little whimpers you make when he slides his hand across your waist and under your shirt.

With your heart pounding your ears, you don’t notice Rafayel moving. A salacious, villainous smirk on his lips as he leans back to admire the show. Like a work of art, you’re slowly revealed to him. Clothes drawn from your body like petals from a rose, and as Xavier slides your clothing from your supple form his mind sings She loves me…..she loves me not….

From the other side of the room, Caleb is frozen. Stuck in time as he is drawn into the intoxicating display of desire. 

Rafayel, noticing the glazed look in Caleb’s eyes and the way he not-so-subtly keeps pressing his hips into the side of the counter, has the worst kind of impulse. A lash of desire to see the large man beg, and the idea is strong enough that Rafayel decides to indulge it. 

“Puppy….” Rafayel coos, leaning over the back of the couch. The puppy in question jerks in surprise, nearly doubling over the counter as he realizes he’s been caught.

“I’m sorry.” Caleb says quickly, hiding his face behind his arm.

“Come here.” Rafayel says a bit firmer, beckoning him over with the crook of his finger. He doesn’t let even a drop of desperation leak into his voice. It wouldn’t do to let Caleb know how much he wants him over here. 

Caleb chokes softly and remains stuck behind the counter. His eyes darting over to where Zayne now has you leaning back further into him– your breasts cupped in his hands while he gently pinches the rosy peaks. Xavier has disappeared from Caleb’s view, but the wet slurping noises that fill the room are enough for his imagination to fill in the gaps. 

It’s a high pitch whine from you that has Caleb moving, jolting forward and around the counter to close the distance between himself and the debauchery. 

Rafayel grabs Caleb and pulls him down onto the couch, making the large man sit down next to Zayne. The doctor glances over for a single moment before he turns his attention back to you. 

You’re a panting, wanton mess. Gripping Xavier’s fair tresses between your fingers as he devours your weepy cunt. The poor prince barely moves to breathe, too drunk on the syrupy taste of your slick to even think of parting.

And Caleb can’t look away, eyes stuck on the wet mess on Xavier’s nose and chin. There’s a determined but hazy look in Xavier’s eyes, and Caleb aches with envy. The memory of your taste haunting his tongue. 

“Uh uh.” Rafayel tuts as he climbs into Caleb’s lap, straddling the pilot’s wide hips with his legs. “Be a good pup and look at me.”

Caleb whimpers and draws his gaze away and up to the siren before him. There’s destruction in Rafayel’s multicolored eyes, a ravaging storm hellbent on seeing Caleb’s ship overturn and shatter. 

“That’s it.” Rafayel says low in his chest, resting one hand on Caleb’s shoulders and the other at the base of his throat., “You don’t get to look until I say.”

Caleb’s jaw clenches, and with a sudden sharp glare, he grabs Rafayel’s forearms tight and pulls them away, “And why should I listen to you?”

Rafayel’s eyes widen for a half a second, before his lashes lower and a dark, amused look paints his lovely features. With his chin raised slightly, he pushes his arms back towards Caleb– despite the vice grip the pilot has on him. Caleb falters, stunned by the strength Rafayel so easily shows. His prosthetic arm can keep Rafayel at bay, but his other one not so much. 

With the faintest shimmer of aqua in his eyes, Rafayel’s chest rumbles in a laugh, “Bad dog. I thought you were learning to behave.” 

The word ‘behave’ comes out as a low, guttural growl, and Rafayel watches as Caleb’s throat bobs with a heavy swallow. The brunet’s face might be stern, but Rafayel can smell the want on his skin. Dopamine thick in the sweat that beads across his forehead and his chest, rich and spicy. 

An apple pie– sliced and diced and baked, ready for Rafayel to cut into. 

“You should try harder and make it up to me, puppy.” Rafayel says as he twists his arms out of Caleb’s grip and grabs ahold of his throat maybe a little too harshly. Caleb’s breath hitches, and his eyes widen in shock. It could be construed as fear, but the jolt in Caleb’s cock begs otherwise. 

“I already said–” Caleb grunts out. His face turns red as the blood flow to his head starts to slow. “I a-already a-apolog-ized.”

Rafayel clicks his tongue, glancing over to the side as Zayne, you and Xavier move to the floor. Xavier’s pulling you on top of him, moving you so you're sitting astride his face– a wicked smile on his lips. High, pitchy moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips as you roll your hips, riding his terrible tongue. 

Zayne kneels between Xavier’s legs, unbuckling Xavier’s belt and pulling out his leaky, red cock. It jumps when Zayne’s hand grips it firmly, and a shuddering moan is muffled into your cunt from Xavier’s mouth. 

A small whine of disbelief leaves Caleb’s lips as he watches with rapturous eyes as Zayne places his cock alongside Xavier’s, holding them both in his large palm and rutting them together in the most obscene way. 

“Did you?” Rafayel hisses, grabbing Caleb’s chin and forcing him to look away. “Did you apologize for trying to take away my bride? A thief is still a thief– even if he’s caught.”

Caleb’s eyes flicker across Rafayel’s face, half-lidded and growing hazy. He keeps trying to look over at you, to watch the ecstacy on your beautiful face. It was only hours ago he got to have you, but god it feels like forever. 

Rafayel glances over one more time, and hums, “Is it torture?” He whispers in Caleb’s ear, dragging his hand down the middle of Caleb’s chest, past his navel and into his pants. He cups the hard bulge of Caleb’s cock through his briefs and sighs, “Watching can be fun, but it’s never the same as the real thing. Did you get a taste, puppy? Did it leave you satisfied, or just… hungry for more?”

Caleb grits his teeth and rolls his hips up into Rafayel’s warm palm, “Y-you’re kind of a bastard…you know that?”

Rafayel laughs at his petulance. Such bravado from a man one good squeeze away from drooling. With a small smirk. Rafayel removes the pressure of his hand from Caleb’s throbbing cock, and the brunet's hip flex to follow him. 

“Whine, whine whine…” Rafayel drawls, “I should tie you up. Keep your filthy hands behind your back and your eyes covered so you can’t even try to take what’s mine away again.”

The moment Sylus enters the house, he can taste the salt in the air. Lingering like someone spilt a bottle of thick perfume, Sylus is bombarded with the scent of salt, slick and arousal. 

The lights are off, and so the living room and kitchen are only illuminated by the moon. There’s signs of a struggle on the couch and across the floor– blankets strewn and pillows out of place. If not for the heady aroma, Sylus would think a fight broke out. 

However, the tang of cortisol is not what burns in his nose. A trail left for him to follow down the hall, up the stairs, and into your bedroom. 

The door is ajar– a sign of the rush you’d been in to reach the bed– and the sounds that leak into the hallway are obscene. Breathless, panting moans. The slap of wet flesh. The grunts and groans of animalistic coupling. 

Sylus is already unbuttoning his shirt when he enters the room, but halts just inside the door. He’d been able to pick out your scent– your sweetness dancing on the tip of his tongue. Rafayel’s scent was potent and unmistakable, and Sylus surmised that perhaps Xavier or even Caleb might also be involved.

But all of you? 

Xavier has you in a headlock, pumping into your dripping heat from behind. Your face is mere centimeters away from Caleb’s, who is writhing in cross-eyed overstimulation as Zayne pumps his cock and Rafayel slowly rolls his hips into his ass. 

The arousal that lashes through Sylus is so intense it hurts. His cock jumping from flaccid to throbbing in such a little amount of time it’s a wonder he doesn’t come completely untouched. 

In his rush to undress– drawn in like a moth to flame– Sylus tears his shirt and a couple buttons come undone. 

“What’s the occasion?” The usual easygoing tone in Sylus’ voice is gone, replaced by a tight strain as his mouth goes dry. 

Your pretty cheeks are so flushed, eyes glazed over as Xavier takes hold of your every sense. When Sylus approaches, he sees the way Xavier’s arm flexes tighter around your throat– a near imperceptible act of possession. 

“There you are.” Zayne says. His voice is hoarse, and his palm is wet when he grabs at Sylus. The white-haired man is all too happy to be moved, pressed onto his back like an obedient beast. “It’s been a while, Stayrus.”

The giddy excitement that had been bubbling inside Sylus’ chest like fizzy champagne suddenly freezes over. A cold, sinking sensation in the middle of his chest as his eyes go wide. 

“W-who–” Sylus grunts through gritted teeth as Zayne continues without hesitation, unbuttoning Sylus’ pants and pulling them down. “Who told you that name?”

Zayne doesn’t reply– too busy distracting the dragon with a tight hand around his cock. The icy temperature of his palm is so deliberate and Sylus’ mind blanks. Cracked apart with the overwhelming sensation. 

Sylus hears you gasp raggedly and nearly collapse as Xavier finally lets you free of the tight lock. You lean forward into Caleb, and the brunette welcomes you with his mouth. His trembling hands cupping your breasts as he mumble incoherent, reverent praise against your lips. 

You find within your power to look his way– Zayne’s laugh is sinful as he feels Sylus throb in his hands. Your gaze alone making droplets of precome dribble from his red tip. 

“H-he–” You stutter as Xavier shifts from hard, pounding thrusts into slower rolls. The blond is close, but unwilling to finish just yet. “Zayne…. remembers.” 

Sylus’ breathing catches harsh in his chest, and when he looks up at Zayne, the doctor is smiling smugly.

“How?” Sylus growls as he grabs Zayne’s wrist, halting his torturous pumping. 

“Do you want me to explain, or do you want me to continue?” Zayne retorts. His fingers waggle gently, a tantalizing dance. 

Another low, dangerous growl comes from deep within Sylus’ chest. Too guttural any human throat to create. He grabs Zayne and flips them, pushing him down into the messy sheets and rutting their cocks against each other. 

“Later.” Sylus snarls as he takes both cocks into his large palm and frots, “You’ll explain later.”

Lost in the inky blindness of pleasure, you press back into Xavier mindlessly. Floating in a subspace made of pink cotton and feathers, you’re mildly aware that you have all of your lovers here, but it doesn’t register logically. 

Your hands grip onto the sheets, tight fist fulls of egyptian cotton that will most certainly need to be thrown away or incinerated after this. Caleb’s lips are wet against yours, and you feel the cool metal of his prosthetic hand find yours. 

“ So pretty.” Rafayel groans, a particularly hard thrust pushing Caleb forward so that your faces mash together. “C’mon puppy– don’t come yet. I’m not done with you.”

“I don’t think–” Xavier's voice cuts off as he chokes on a low moan, “ Mmh… I don’t think he can hear you…”

In truth, Caleb doesn’t hear Rafayel. There’s an awareness of the sea god– obviously – but the deepspace pilot isn’t in any better state than your. Mind melting with the cacophony that is being able to watch your face crumple in pleasure, while simultaneously being taken apart himself. 

There is rapture in being handled indelicately by something stronger than you. Caleb has been the strong one. The Queen on the chessboard, able to move in every direction and the largest line of defense for his lovely, perfect King– you. A constant demand to be tall and strong… 

Letting himself be vulnerable was hard at first, but oh… being pressed into the mattress has tickled some long forgotten part of his brain. A part that the Toring chip doesn’t seem to be able to reach. The part that wants to be held, cradled, and protected.

Rafayel spits degradation at him that feels justified, but his touch falls like praise against his skin. He grabs the back of Caleb’s neck and pushes him face down, keeping his hips up and providing an even deeper angle to fuck him with. 

“ Good pup,” Rafayel hisses. Dark like the bottom of the sea, but inviting like the allure of the open horizon. “Do you want me to make you come, is that it? Tell me. Tell me.” 

The command is replied with muffled babbling. Pleas for release falling from Caleb’s lips as easy as his panting breaths. Later, Caleb will flush hot with shame at the eagerness with which he begs.

Rafayel is struggling. He hides it well, but he’s having to chant in his mind. Do not come. Do not come. Do not come. Over and over again. 

This was supposed to be a punishment for the traitor, but Rafayel had woefully underestimated the effect Caleb would have on him. How sweltering and sublime being inside him would feel. How sweetly he submitted. 

Rafayel is one wanton moan away from blowing his load deep inside Caleb and thanking him for the pleasure of doing so. It doesn’t help that ebb day is mere weeks away, and that primal part of his brain is louder than normal when it requests– no demands –  to come inside. Inside. Inside. Inside. It begs. 

Rafayel meets Xavier’s eyes and they share a look. A look of We’re totally screwed aren’t we? 

Xavier is an overachiever. A prodigy even. Deeply competitive even with himself, and so he’s not satisfied with having you come once, twice or even three times. He’s done that before. He needs to make you come again before he’s allowed to finish– a little goal he’s set for himself to beat his previous record. 

Only, you’re not making it easy. It’s not that you’re difficult to please, or that you’re struggling to come again– no. No, it’s the fact that in the throes of pleasure you are the most intoxicating and arousing thing he’s ever seen. 

The way you cling to Caleb in front of you is debauched, and so very very sweet. It scratches an almost domestic itch inside his mind, and something altogether unholy. 

The way neither of you can catch your breath, but are desperate for more. Even if it hurts. Even when it hurts. You push back onto his cock with such fervent need that Xavier has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting then and there. 

Caleb, with his face pressed into the sheets, still holds onto your hands– an anchor he maintains between you two. He twists slightly to look over his shoulder, and pleads, “I wanna come… please nngh– can I come inside her? Can I come inside pips again?”

Xavier couldn’t tell you why that’s what does it for him. Maybe it's the way Caleb’s voice cracks as he begs, or the shimmer of tears in the corner of his violet eyes. It’s probably the way you keen and clench at Caleb’s words, clamping down like a vice around Xavier’s cock. 

You come again, for that destined fourth time, and Xavier barely registers it because he’s coming to. Pumping you full as he moans, loud and visceral. 

Rafayel smacks Caleb’s ass– punishing him for being too good and for asking so nicely. He smacks him one more time and then pulls out, “Get up then. C’mere cutie.”

With your bones feeling like jelly, you crawl over to him. Caleb rises up to his knees and sticks to your side, drawn into the two of them like a pearl between the clasps of an oyster. 

Rafayel kisses you sloppily, keeping a heady eye contact with Caleb while he does, and then whispers into your mouth, “You hangin’ in there, princess? Think you can take both of us?”

You lick at your lips, tasting the slight tartness of Rafayel’s saliva as you nod, “I-I can…I can do it.”

Rafayel groans as he wraps his arms around your waist and falls onto his back, letting you rest against his chest. “Good girl. My perfect girl. My lovely bride. You know what to do…”

A high whine leaves your lips as you shift on top of him. Straddling his hips, you reach behind you to grab his wet cock and place it at your lips. You sigh softly as you sit fully on him, satisfied to be full once more.

“I like this puppy of yours,” Rafayel hums as he pulls you back into another kiss.

You moan into Rafayel’s mouth as you feel Caleb’s body heat approach. His sweaty palm starts at the base of your spine and slides upwards. “Is this okay?” Caleb asks, but he doesn’t pause in his movements. Gripping the base of his cock to let the tip kiss at your hole. “Oh god…. Is this really okay?”

Rafayel’s fingertips are hot, nearly scalding your skin as he grabs the flesh of your ass as spreads you. A ragged moan is punched out of Caleb at the sight, and the sea god laughs. “Go slow. Don’t want to hurt her right?”

Caleb nods furiously, “I would never. I’d never– oh fuck!” He curses loudly as he starts to push inside. “ U-uuh…Pips…”

Rafayel’s jaw is tight, and his grin is feral. “I’m here too, puppy. Don’t forget me.”

You’re struggling to breathe, caught up in the stretch and the pressure of both men pressing inside you. Eyes nearly rolling back in your head as you cling to Rafayel below you. 

Caleb’s hips jerk in little half thrusts, pushing in a little further every time. He groans and leans forward, hands braced on either side of Rafayel’s head as he rolls his hips. Mouth open and practically drooling, “ So tight…does it hurt?” Caleb kisses your shoulder blade and then bites softly, “ Tell me. Tell me if it hurts.”

You’re not sure when Caleb finally bottoms out, or when he starts to thrust in earnest. Your moans are soft and breathless, tears beading in your eyes and trailing down your reddened cheeks from the complete overstimulation. It hurts in the most perfect way, but you don’t have enough control over your tongue to tell him that. 

Rafayel leaves marks along your neck and collarbone, adding his own to the litany of marks left by Zayne and Xavier earlier. A necklace of bruises you wish would stay forever. 

It’s too soon when your orgasm approaches, a cresting wave on the swell of the ocean. You don’t want this to end, you don’t want them to leave. But Caleb is begging you to come the moment he feels your walls flutter. 

“I can feel– oh nnh – I can feel you g-getting close, pipsqueak .” Caleb grunts out as he continues his torturous pace. “I need– I need you to come. Please, please, please, please !”

Rafayel curses and grips the curve of your waist tightly, “ I’m gonna’ come. Fuck, you beg so pretty Caleb.” 

The sea god beneath you finally stops trying to pretend like he isn’t just as fucked-out as the rest of you. His eyes fall closed as he tries in vain to keep his hips still. 

Teetering on the edge, you look over your shoulder, turning your neck enough to make brief eye contact with Caleb.

To your, and Caleb’s, utter shock. Xavier returns. Coming up behind Caleb to drag his hands up the pilot’s back and around his waist. The prince brushes his fingertips across his nipples before pinching them harshly. 

“When I’m done counting, okay?” Xavier hums, looking like a conquering king. “Five.”

Caleb yelps and his hips slam forward, nearly pushing you off of Rafayel completely before you can correct it. Rafayel, displeased, smacks Caleb’s arm, which he hardly notices. 

Xavier continues his torture of Caleb’s chest, “Four.”

“I'm not gonna’ make it.” Caleb gasps, slowing his hips to nearly stopping, “I’m gonna come.”

“Don’t stop.” Xavier commands, removing one hand to slap Caleb’s ass harshly. “Three.”

“Xavier!” You squeal, clenching tightly around the men inside you. You’re not going to make it either, trying to come when told is walking a wire tightrope that you haven’t quite perfected yet.

“Two.” Xavier says with a devilish grin, looking altogether too pleased. Even Rafayel is struggling, his grip on your waist is painful as he tries to stave off orgasm. 

You’re holding your breath now and so is Caleb. However, that breath is punched out of you when Xavier finally whispers, “One.”

Like the snap of an overstretched rubber band, you break. Coming undone and jolting with waves of near painful pleasure. It streaks down your spine and back up again, pulsing in time with the flutters of your cunt. “ Ah! Ahh god!! Caleb! ”

Caleb chokes on his orgasm, a strangled noise leaving his lips as he fucks hard through it. Pushing his come as deep as he can. The feeling of his fat cock throbbing as it spills inside you is indescribable, and only heightened by the matching pumps of Rafayel’s.

Rafayel grabs a mouthful of your neck and bites down when he comes, groaning through his peak as he rolls his hips. Using his hold on your waist he moves you up and down, burying himself to the hilt as he empties himself.

The combination of your come and slick drips obscenely down your thighs, splattered against Caleb’s hips and down his legs, and nearly covering Rafayel’s  lower half completely.

You collapse on top of Rafayel, panting and dizzy. 

You hear Xavier behind you faintly, “Good…That was good. Shh…it’s alright. You didn’t hurt her.”

When you glance behind you, you see Xavier is whispering into Caleb’s ear. Rubbing around his shoulders and smiling softly. 

Caleb sniffles and leans down to press breathless kisses along your spine and shoulders, “God that was so good, pipsqueak.”

Rafayel reaches up to wind his fingers into Caleb’s hair and lift his chin, “Don’t be dumb. I wouldn’t let you hurt her. Now get up, it’s bath time.”

“ Not yet.” Come the harsh growl from your right. 

Turning you see Sylus on his belly, resting on his elbows as he stares at the performance before him. His eyes gleam a sharper ruby than usual– burning with barely tempered desire as Zayne pushes into him from behind. 

Zayne has his arms braced on either side of Sylus’ waist and his pace is slow and languid. Almost lazy as he takes his time. They must have been too busy watching you to really focus on their own pleasure, and now that the show is over?

Sylus’ hand reaches out to grab your ankle, and you notice the tips of his fingers are a little darker than normal. “Come here…kitten…”

Xavier places his hand flat against Caleb’s navel to push him back, forcibly pulling the brunette out of your syrupy cunt. 

Rafayel huffs and wraps his arms around your shoulders, “She needs rest. She needs a bath.” 

“This won’t take long…” Sylus’ voice is wrecked. A ragged growl laced in his tone that makes your skin rise up in goosebumps. “I promise…”

Lured into the woods by the wolf himself, you lift from Rafayel with a kiss and promise of bathing soon. The moment you’re not attached to anyone else, Sylus drags you over to him by his ankle. 

Zayne hisses behind him as Sylus pushes himself up higher. There’s such pure determination in Sylus’ eyes that you’re helpless to his manhandling. With less effort than should be possible, he gets you under him. On your back with your thighs on either side of him. 

You recall this position, with sudden vivid clarity and gasp. Sylus must have grown envious of the pleasure Xavier exhibited when squished between bodies like this, because he wastes no time in pressing inside you. 

Sylus groans, so deep in his chest and nearly drops his weight onto you. Rolling his hips mindlessly, he gasps sharply as pushing forward pushes him further into you, and pushing back slides Zayne deeper inside him. 

“So greedy.” Zayne snaps out, thrusting harder.

An uncharacteristic moan leaves Sylus’ lips, and you watch in awe as the pleasure crinkles his face. Drawing him in with gentle hands on the side of his face, you kiss him, and it makes him keen just as much as Zayne’s cock had. 

Like playing a game of catch, you and Zayne volley starry-eyed Sylus back and forth. Indulging in the large man’s crumbling pleasure. 

Sylus had been right. It didn’t take long. You could always tell when Sylus was close because he grew quieter, gritting his teeth against his own swelling arousal. Like he was always desperately trying to prolong the inevitable. 

When you come, it’s lazy. Nothing more than death throes as your body begs to give out. More pleasure has been wrung from you than you thought possible, and you cling to Sylus, drawing lines across his back with your nails as you hold on for dear life. 

The pinpricks of pain send Sylus over the edge. He’s got his arms wrapped around your shoulders and his face hidden in your neck as he whines and gasps with the force of it. Wretched, delectable, and sweet. 

You’re nearly suffocating with the pressure of the bodies on top of you as Zayne comes. Like he can’t get close enough either, he presses his face into Sylus spine and groans, slowly rolling his hips and watching the white-haired man jolt.

The air in your bedroom is thick and hot. Sticky with humidity and cloying with the scent of bodies. 

You have to tap Zayne to get him to let up, and he jerks as if he’s forgotten the sheer weight he and Sylus are on top of you. 

Peeling away from one another is a melancholy thing, the gaps between breaths filled with soft kisses. Exhaustion seems to be the shared sentiment at the moment, and a desire for rest finally overcoming the desire for another round. 

Your hips ache and your cringe as the deluge of come that drips down your inner thigh when you stand– helped to your feet by Caleb’s gentle hands. 

Xavier uses his thumb to open your mouth, draping your bottom lip open to press a bendy straw onto your tongue. A glass of water held up for you, that is then quickly followed by a kiss. He smiles into it, and then turns to Caleb, pushing the straw to his lips as well. 

Caleb looks a little stunned but takes the drink, meeting Xavier’s eyes and humming in contentment. 

Rafayel draws you from the pair and into the bathroom, into the bath he had drawn when Sylus and Zayne finished you off. He wipes you down with a warm rage before helping you climb in and sitting behind you. 

You sigh as you sink into the heated water, listening to the rest of your lovers bustle about in the bedroom. 

“Don’t even bother,” Sylus’ voice drawls, “ We can get more sheets. Just throw these away.”

“That’s such a waste though,” Caleb argues, and there's a loud rustle of fabric before a heavy flop– the sheets being torn from the bed and being thrown to the ground. “ I’ll clean them.”

Xavier enters the bathroom shortly after with a little plate of cut fruit, and spends the next ten minutes insisting he feed you by hand. “You’re exhausted.” He says as he places an orange slice to your lips, “You can’t do it, so I will.”

Rafayel laughs at him while he finishes rinsing the bubbles from your shoulders, “Just say you wanna feed her, weirdo.”

When you climb out of the bath, Caleb dries you off. Gently patting your body with a soft towel, “I finally found those dryer sheets you liked so much. I had to go to two stores to find them, can you believe it? But you were right, the towels are much softer.”

You giggle softly as he brushes the towel across your tummy, “You didn’t have to do that, and I can get dressed myself you know?”

“Yeah, of course you can,” Caleb says with a small scoff. Tossing the towel into the hamper he grabs the sleep shirt and lifts it over your head, “but that’s no fun. You’re gonna make me feel bad, pips. Let me do this, ‘kay?”

It’s not like them helping you dress is new, but you still don’t fully understand the desire. With a shrug, you submit to Caleb’s assistance, and he smiles so happily it's a wonder he doesn’t blind you. 

When you go back to the bedroom, the bed is made, and the string lights over the headboard are on. They are the only light in the room as the sun has somehow set. You’re not sure what time it is, and right now, you don’t care.

Zayne leans against the headboard, Xavier’s head resting in his lap as he scrolls through his phone. When the doctor sees you, he beckons you closer with an outstretched hand, “Come love, you’ll have to explain to the others what happened.”

You take his hand and sit down next to him, nestled into his side with your hand going to pet Xavier’s fluffy hair. 

Sylus is at the windows, drawing the curtains closed so that the rising sun doesn’t bother him. He’s already gone and came back and is wearing his pajamas. When he turns, you see a lightness in his eyes. Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulder that even he didn’t realize was there, “I knew you would have something to do with it, sweetie. I should have rewarded you better.”

He crawls onto the bed. Sliding onto your free side and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I feel thoroughly rewarded, don't worry.” You coo softly. “There’s not much to tell. Zayne woke up last night — like he did that one night he attacked you, but it wasn’t the same guy. It was our Zayne, and he remembered everything.”

Zayne lifts his head, “Excuse me? I attacked you?”

You jump a little at the iciness in his voice, “Oops. I thought you knew that. Sorry, but sometimes you wake up and you aren’t… you.”

“Don’t look so horrified, doctor Zayne.” Sylus rumbles in amusement, “You’ve already been through the battery of tests. It’s not brain related.”

“ Anyway,” You sing-song, “I figured since resonating with some janky protocore made me remember, that resonating with me might make him remember.” 

Caleb laughs heartily as he rolls onto the bed, coming to lay sideways near your feet. Resting on an elbow he looks like the cat that got the cream, “The Liminal Core. That’s that janky protocore. Ever couldn’t find a use for it that didn’t just disintegrate everything, so they gave it to Riston.”

You blink, “Seriously? Were they trying to kill me?”

Caleb’s still smiling but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He shrugs, “Not sure, and to be honest I don’t care. It’s all under rubble now.”

You can’t help but notice Sylus has perked up slightly, the mention of some rare protocore catching the dragon's eye. You’re aware of his less-than-legal protocore trading, but he’s never brought it home before.

“Settle something for me,” Rafayel interjects as he returns, wearing a lavender silken sleep set. He throws himself down onto the bed and picks Xavier’s legs up to slide beneath them and up against Zayne’s side, “If we had told you about the Sanctuary and the spell and all that, would you have believed it?”

Xavier frowns and lifts his head, “I stand by what I believed. If you’re trying to get me in trouble, it won’t work.”

Rafayel pokes the disgruntled prince on the forehead, “I’m just curious. You two were so adamant one way or the other— this way we can know for sure.”

Zayne’s brow creases in thought as he debates this, “I’m not sure…”

Sylus huffs, barely hiding his pout while Xavier lays his head back down with a small, almost smug, smile.

“I would like to think I would believe it.” Zayne says almost in a whisper, “But it would be difficult to.”

Your heart aches for him, and you know what he means. In your confusion, you’d been furious they hadn’t just told you, but the reality of that is very different than the ideal. Would you have believed it? This story, written to bring you all together? 

Nice as it might be, but it sounds too good to be true. 

“Psshhh,” Rafayel breaks you from your reverie, “Such a non-answer. What was it the refugees called you? The Mediator?”

Zayne’s huffs and amusement replaces the melancholy in his eyes, “The Foreseer.”

“I liked that one.” You comment with a cheery smile, remembering the way some of the refugees would bow in deference to the fabled ‘ foreseer’ .

“I never asked them to refer to me like that.” Zayne says with a crinkle of his nose. “I never intended to lead them.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Rafayel says with a huff, drawing his hands behind his head to lean back, “What will all the leading you were doing.”

“It feels like yesterday…” You say wistfully, “And yet a million miles away…”

Caleb’s smile fades, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you– nor the others it seems. 

“I’m sorry,” Caleb whispers, but is quickly shushed by Rafayel’s annoyed click. 

“Ugh, don’t ruin the glow, puppy.” Rafayel groans, leaning forward to pat the top of Caleb’s head before drawing back, “Be sorry tomorrow, or something. But not tonight.”

“Hm,” Sylus grunts in agreement, and sits up. He  stands from the bed and goes over to the dresser near the door, where a small box sat that you don’t remember being there. 

It’s not until Sylus sits back on the bed that recognize the box, and at the sight of the expensive packaging, your heart does a little flip. 

Caleb looks terribly confused, and that only doubles when Sylus grabs his wrist without a word. The dragon opens the box and pulls out the bracelet that matches yours, his, and the rest of you. This one is in silver, with a single, tiny, red-orange gemstone. 

Sylus places the bracelet on Caleb’s wrist with such tenderness it almost feels like an engagement ring, and you can’t help but sit up in excitement. Lifting your arm where your own bracelet sits and holding it next to his.

“Now we match!” You say cheerily, twisting your hand back and forth so the bracelet jingles. 

There’s a beat where Caleb doesn’t move, and simply looks between your matching jewelry with widened eyes. Like he’s trying to study them for flaws, and finding none. Gently, he pinches the delicate metal of your bracelet in between his chrome fingers– checking once more to make sure it’s real. 

Sylus hums in amusement and grabs Caleb’s hand with his left hand, showing the brunette his own matching bangle. 

Caleb’s mouth falls open slightly, and you can’t help but laugh lightly. It’s too cute. Like a little kid getting a love note for the very first time– like this act of devotion is somehow so much more meaningful than the lurid acts that took place mere minutes ago. 

You return to Zayne’s side, and he wraps an arm around you. Lifting his wrist, he shows Caleb his own– thinner and lighter– bracelet. Caleb crawls closer to examine it. And in a rush of eagerness, he moves from Zayne over to Xavier, pulling back the long sleeve of his sweater to find yet another matching piece. 

Rafayel laughs and lifts his arm before Caleb can go searching for it. 

You rest your head on Zayne’s shoulder and sigh serenely. Sylus returns to his spot behind you and you can feel the pleased rumble in his chest with all the jewelry in plain sight. When he’d given yours to you, you had joked that it was a friendship bracelet– or a gang marking, but when your five loves nestled in your bed you know it feels like much more than that. 

An exclusive token. An earned badge of acceptance. A brand. A mark. A wedding band.

You’re not sure when you fall asleep, but you wake up as Zayne shifts to lay on his back. Caleb’s hands on your shoulders guide you down, and Sylus quickly takes his spot behind you to curl around your back.

A weight lays across your stomach, and when he sighs you realize it’s Caleb. 

Sleep draws you with weights on your limbs, but it’s the little signs of your lovers around you that sends you down down down into dreams.