Chapter 2: Threesome
The hallway outside Silas’s room smelled of mold and rotting timber. He fumbled with a crude iron key, his fingers unsteady from anticipation and cheap ale. The lock gave with a gritty scrape.
The door swung inward to a wall of stale, warm air.
Then he was moving, or was being moved, pressed back into the room as the door clicked shut behind them. Two massive bodies caged him in the dark. Drac’s leathers creaked, smelling of sweat and smoke. Kazan’s scales were cool, smooth against his cheek.
Drac’s mouth found his first, a claim staked with teeth and tongue. Silas kissed back, hungry, his hands gripping the orc’s broad back. He was shifted before he could catch his breath, turned into Kazan’s chest. The Dragonborn’s kiss was tentative, a nervous press of lips. Silas coaxed his mouth open, soothing, his fingers tracing the line of a jawbone beneath scales.
He broke away, breathing hard. The only light came from a cracked shutter, painting them in stripes of dusty silver.
“Now you,” Silas said, his voice ragged. “Let me see you.”
Kazan hesitated, his amber eyes flicking to Drac. The orc just grinned, a flash of white in the gloom. He didn’t wait. He grabbed Kazan by the back of the neck and pulled him in.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a contest, a negotiation of power. Drac was all force, and Kazan, after a stunned second, met it with a low growl, his own hands coming up to grasp Drac’s shoulders. It was raw, real, and then it became something performed for the prince watching them. A show of strength and submission, of trust given in this strange, new way.
Silas watched, heat pooling low in his gut. He’d seen many things in court, but nothing this brutally honest.
“Sit,” he managed, nodding to a rickety table and two stools. “I’ll just be a moment.”
He slipped through the ragged curtain that served as a door to the sleeping alcove, leaving them in the main room. The silence was heavy, then broken by the groan of wood as Drac sat.
“Gods below,” Drac exhaled, a loud whisper. “I am so gods-damned ready to fuck that man into next week.”
Kazan’s voice was quieter. “It has been a while for you?”
“A while? Try forever since it meant anything.” Drac’s stool creaked. “Whores. Quick tumbles in alleys. They see the tusks, the green, and they either freeze up or pretend it’s an adventure. Never just… someone who wanted me. You know?”
“I wouldn’t,” Kazan murmured.
A beat of silence. “Right. Sorry. The whole… virgin thing.”
“It’s not a thing. It’s a fact.” Kazan’s tone was defensive, soft. “I just… I don’t want to be… inadequate.”
Drac snorted. “Inadequate? Look, I’ve seen you naked at the river. You’re hung like a damn draft horse. You’re bigger than I am, and that’s saying something.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what? You like him?”
Another pause. When Kazan spoke, it was a confession to the dark. “Yes. He’s… exactly what I’ve always… looked at. Human men. The lean ones. The clever eyes. I never thought…”
“See? So stop thinking.” Drac’s voice was a gruff encouragement. “Give in to it. To the part of you they’re always scared of. That primal side. Let it loose tonight. Show that pretty prince what a stud you really are.”
From behind the curtain, Silas’s voice floated out, smooth and warm. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Drac stood. Wood scraped stone. Silas heard the distinct, solid smack of a fist meeting a scaled palm. A pact.
Then the curtain was pushed aside, and the two titans filled the doorway to his bedroom.