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Something To Help Me Burn Out Bright

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“And remember: you mustn’t see anyone or speak with anyone as you prepare for the ceremony,” uncle Lacros says as he leaves the room.

“Yes, uncle Lacros,” Celes answers, sitting in front of the dressing table, his chin resting on the palm of his hand as he looks at the unfinished picture of himself in the mirror. He’s not wearing his ceremonial clothes, yet, he’s not wearing the traditional decorations and he hasn’t even started working on his hair. The ceremony’s supposed to take place in about two hours, and he couldn’t even start working on how he wanted to appear in front of his people, because a Seer is supposed to prepare for the ritual all alone, and he couldn’t be alone up to now, as it seemed half the members of the Government wanted to have a private talking session with him before he could start getting ready, to “make sure they were on the same page”, which in most cases simply meant that they wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to cancel the most traditional festivities of the year or change any fundamental law right away.

It’s unbelievable how scared these old bats are to see things changing. Well, they’re in for quite a ride, from tomorrow on, because although he assured them he would take things nice and slow, Celes is well intentioned to change a good number of these old boring traditions as soon as possible. Such as for example the fact that the Seer is always supposed to be alone. The Seer is alone studying the ancient volumes of seer magic, mysteries no one else can take a glimpse of, the Seer is alone during Retreat preparing for the war, because people around would be a distraction, the Seer must even be alone dressing up for Coronation!, because purity must be preserved both physically and mentally.

It's unacceptable. He’s sick and tired of doing things by himself all the time. A change is gonna come and those old geezer better be prepared.

Sighing deeply, he finally stands up from the dressing table and walks towards the small decorated closet next to the full-figure mirror. He opens it to take another look at his light armor, the one he created for himself working his magic on the ritualistic clothes that were presented to him during the first meeting of the Coronation committee. Naturally, having all Seers been women up to that point, the ritualistic clothes mirrored that. A long white silken gown and a silken short-sleeved top, all embroidered in gold, must’ve looked amazing on his mom but weren’t okay for him. Just looking at them made him feel uneasy, and the committee members seemed pretty embarrassed too. “We’re very sorry, my lord,” said Lord Dell’Angelo, head of the committee, as he bowed lightly, “Unfortunately, that’s all we have.”

Well, not anymore. Celes has turned the dress into a comfortable light armor changing its color from gray to light blue when in favor of light. Something elegant and at the same time synonym of strength, something comfortable for both men and women, with its small chest plate and slim shoulder and knee pads.

He’s very happy with it. He can’t wait to wear it.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for the tiara.

He remembered seeing it on his mother’s head, of course, but for some reason he had expected the committee to be as equally apologizing for it as they had been for the clothes. Instead, when he took the first up close look to the crown as it stood on its red velvet pillow, protected by a crystal dome, instead of finding a reflection of his disappointed expression on the faces of everyone around, they were pretty adamant in telling him right away that even though they would be open to a changing of clothes, they couldn’t allow a change as far as the tiara was concerned.

“Besides,” Lord Dell’Angelo explained aloofly, “The crown wouldn’t allow any change to begin with.”

Celes couldn’t believe it, naturally, until he tried, but Lord Dell’Angelo didn’t lie: the crown seems to be protected with ancient, powerful magic, tracing back to the first Seer: he can’t change it, not even a little detail. He will be forced to wear the thin white gold headband decorated in pearls and perennial ice crystals, like his mother and his grandmother before him, even though he doesn’t feel it on himself.

When he changed his body, everyone was a little confused by the fact the he chose to keep some softness on himself. It was easy for everyone to understand how one in his situation would want to drop the boobs and gain a dick, but when he kept his long legs with his full thighs, and when he refused to get wider shoulders, no one failed to ask him: sorry, but didn’t you want to be a boy?

That was quite infuriating. He wanted a body that reflected his inner self. Not all men must be built like a tank. Some things he wanted different about himself, some others he didn’t. Some things he wants are undoubtedly “manly”, if it even makes any sense to try and make stereotypical gender-related descriptions of what he wants and likes anymore, at this point, some others just aren’t.

And so, when he tried to change the tiara and failed, Lord Dell’Angelo simply smiled and said “Well, that’s too bad. But at least you’ve still got a graceful figure and somewhat long hair. It will still look good on you.”

That hurt. He doesn’t want things that look good on him. He wants things that look right on him.

They don’t understand you, says the voice in the back of his mind, and as soon as he hears her Celes relaxes, sits back in front of the dressing table and closes his eyes, following the light vibrations it produces and sends shivering through his body. By now he’s not scared when he hears her anymore, though the first few times hearing something other than himself within his mind was terrifying. It’s not anymore, at this point, he’s gotten used to it, and after all the voice never said anything threatening or disturbing, only pleasant, nice, curious and interesting things. Besides, why should he be scared about a voice so soft and kind?

He has no idea who it is that’s speaking. He only knows it’s not himself, because he feels it as something different, something very far and distant from what and who he is. The difference is so marked the voice could come from a different species altogether, although Celes is pretty sure only another Seer could be as powerful to be able to speak in another Seer’s mind.

In any case, it’s not a threatening presence, and Celes is glad to abandon himself to the sound of it, and to her condescending words. They don’t know what you want. They can’t understand you because you’re too special, too different. But we’re the same, you and I, and I see you.

Celes wishes he could be able to see her too. She only manifests in his mind like a soft pink pulse in the back of his eyes, but he likes to imagine her and he always pictures her like a girl more or less his age, with long hair down to her feet, and sometimes they’re blonde, and sometimes they’re red, sometimes they’re pink like his mom’s and sometimes they’re curly, while sometimes they’re straight. Sometimes she keeps them up in a bun, some other times the lets them free to flow down her back in a silky waterfall.

Every time she’s beautiful, though. Long-limbed and slim, ethereal like a forest sprite, with big purple eyes like a doe filled with malice and desire to play, and elegant features, a little angular, a little sharp, like those of a fairy.

He wishes he could see her. He wishes he could touch her, sometimes. Feel the warmth of her body closer to his own. Taste the milky honey of her understanding words right on his tongue.

“Weren’t you supposed to keep yourself pure?”

Celes opens his eyes right away and lets out a surprised yell as he jumps on his feet and hastens to pull up his pants and down his t-shirt, to cover himself up. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“You sure, babe?” Langley smirks, climbing off the windowsill, quickly followed by Shannen, “It looked like you were jerking off.”

“… okay, then maybe it is what it looked like,” Celes mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away, stubbornly. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Great, then we’re all doing things we’re not really supposed to do!” Langley smiles brightly, “Let’s bond over that!”

Despite himself, Celes laughs, and he’s already mellowing down when Langley finally comes closer and wraps him in his arms, kissing him on top of his head. “Seriously…” he sighs, “If someone finds you here it’ll be a disaster for you and for me. You shouldn’t have come.”

“We discussed that,” Shannen says, shrugging, “But as you know I don’t care about rules and he’s too dumb to be kept away from sex by a law, so here we are.”

“Besides, you were clearly needing us,” Langley adds with a smirk, “Since you were touching yourself.”

“I wasn’t… that wasn’t…” Celes shakes his head, but then stops to think about it and decides to let go of that thought, and the consequent attempt at explaining to his two boyfriends that he wasn’t, in fact, thinking about them, as he touched himself, but about a third person he’s never even seen anywhere else but in his fantasy. “…you’re right,” he sighs, pushing the voice out of his mind entirely, “It’s just— I’m supposed to get ready and all but I don’t understand why I should be dealing with it all by myself. I was just nervous and I tried releasing tension like that.” That’s not the whole truth, but it’s as close as he’s gonna get today.

“You’re in luck, then, my Precious,” Langley smirks again, “We are the best when it comes to release tension.”

Celes chuckles, hiding his face against Langley’s shoulder. Opening one eye, he takes a look at Shannen, standing next to him. “You were horny too?” he asks.

“Nah, but then again I almost never am in the beginning,” he answers with a shrug, “If you’re good, later, who knows.”

Celes chuckles again and looks up at Langley, tilting his head to the side. “You were, instead, weren’t you?”

“Obviously,” Langley nods easily, “I always am.”

“I seriously have no idea how you managed to have a relationship before I came along,” Celes laughs.

Langley and Shannen answer simultaneously, the first saying “it was a struggle”, the second saying “it wasn’t a relationship”.

“Nice to know you’re always on the same page,” Celes smiles and leans in to place a soft kiss on Langley’s lips. Then he closes his hand around the collar of both Langley’s and Shannen’s shirts, and drags them along towards the mirror. “Come on. I need help undressing.”

“And what about the purity thing?” Langley asks.

“Yeah, well, you know the thing about purity,” Celes smirks, opening his arms wide by the sides of his body, “I’m still pure as long as no one knows I’m not anymore.”

Shannen smirks, while Langley straight out laughs. “By the gods, you’re so smart,” he says, getting closer and kissing him on his lips, as he reaches back to start undoing the dozen little buttons holding Celes’ shirt closed down along his spine.

Celes just smiles and stops joking, because he knows how it can be with Langley. Sometimes he never stops talking, he just keeps going even during sex, and it’s all a game, all fun and jokes, and sometimes it really is funny, but some other times that’s not what Celes needs. Right now, for example, it isn’t. He needs something quieter, more intimate, to forget the fact that up to ten minutes ago he was about to cheat on them, at least in some form, and to forget the fact that in one hour and a half he’s supposed to stand on a platform decorated in brocade and gold, and take upon his head a crown that doesn’t belong to him.

Langley smiles as he leaves a line of half-wet kisses down along his neck and shoulders. “You got quiet all of a sudden,” he comments.

Shannen snorts, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you get quiet too, for everyone’s sake?” he suggests, “Get down on your knees.”

“How can I say no when you ask me like that?”

“Exactly. Don’t. Shut up and kneel.”

Smirking with clear amusement, Langley complies as Shannen places himself right behind Celes, who chuckles and half-turns to look at him, searching for his eyes and a small kiss on the lips Shannen promptly grants him, as always softer with him than he ever is with Langley.

“What are you thinking of?”

“I’m thinking I wanna see him suck you. Nothing makes me hornier than keeping his mouth shut, but I’m not ready for it.” He smirks as he slips his hand down Celes’ pants, feeling him hard and ready against his palm. “You, on the other hand…”

Celes whimpers right away, unable to control himself as he squeezes his legs closed in an involuntary reflex dating back to when he was still a girl. He can’t help it – ever since he got himself a dick, despite the fact that everybody always told him he would’ve gotten used to it and oversensitivity would’ve faded away at some point, it never did. To this day, every time someone touches his cock, he loses his shit altogether.

“Fuck, yes…” he whispers, already moving his hips to rub against Shannen’s palm, “Lang… suck it.”

“I serve at your pleasure, my Precious,” Langley smirks, waiting for Shannen to help Celes’ cock out of his pants to take it in his mouth, sucking at it hard.

Celes closes his eyes and moans louder, resting his nape against the curve of Shannen’s shoulder. Now the voice is far away from him, both pushed away by Shannen and Langley’s presence and keeping herself away of her own volition, not to disturb him while he’s with them. At the same time grateful and a little sad, Celes doesn’t hold himself back: he thrusts inside Langley’s mouth, burying himself down his throat, and when he feels Shannen grow hard and impatient behind himself he simply bends over a little, making sure his cock doesn’t escape the tight hold of Langley’s lips, offering himself for the taking.

It only happens rarely, that Shannen feels inclined to join in. He’s certainly not gonna miss the chance.

Shannen holds him by his hips and slowly thrusts inside him, taking his time, refusing to rush things up. Oversensitive as always, all Celes wants is to have more and ready to take, so he whimpers in frustration, putting both hands on Langley’s head to make sure he doesn’t withdraw as he starts thrusting harder down his throat. He can feel Langley’s lips open up in an amused and pleased smile around his cock as he takes it as if nothing had changed, and the mere thought sends him over the edge, forcing him to spill out his orgasm with a tiny whimper, while Shannen starts thrusting a little harder inside of him, finally picking up the pace.

“By the Gods…” he whimpers, his legs shaking a little. He’s sure he would fall if Langley didn’t keep him up with both hands, “I need to change the law and I need to do it fast.”

“Later, though,” Langley smirks, “You’ve got something else to do first.”

Celes turns a lost, confused gaze on him, that instantly grows more aware when he notices him getting rid of his pants and exposing his throbbing erection.

Celes’ mouth gets instantly watery. He reaches out, placing both hands on Langley’s hips and pulling him closer. “Come here, you…” he whispers on his hot skin, seconds before letting him slide past his own lips, keeping him snug and tight between his tongue and palate, making sure he can make use of his mouth as he would make use of its opposite hole.

He closes his eyes, tasting Langley in his mouth and feeling Shannen in his guts. Voluntarily trapped between these two people he could never find happiness without, he forgets everything else. The voice, his duty, his family, old traditions, the crown. The very being a Seer. There’s nothing else except his very core, beating endlessly to the rhythm of his heart, and this is the music his heart follows the rhythm of, the constant thumping of these people inside of him, the constant thumping of his blood rushing through his veins, the throbbing soul of pleasure itself.

He comes again, squirting on his own hand not to soil the floor, letting out a whimper that vibrates all around Langley’s cock, forcing his orgasm out of him too. Shannen, as always, needs more time than they do. He keeps thrusting in, relentlessly, keeping his pace even, only going deeper with each push, until Celes is begging, “by the Gods, Shan, please, come, I can’t take it anymore”, and only then he finally comes, releasing his orgasm deep inside him.

He backs off right away, forcing some of his semen to drip out of Celes’ opening. The rest comes along the moment Celes straightens himself up, dripping down his inner thigh in translucent, pearly drops. Langley reaches out and catches them with his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking. “Mmhn,” he mewls, satisfied, “Love, you always taste the best.”

Shannen groans and rolls his eyes again. “Please, shut up.”

“Oh, come on,” Langley chuckles, “I was just paying you some compliments.”

“I said shut up.”

“Don’t you like compliments, my love?”

“Why do you always have to ruin everything by opening your mouth?”

Celes chuckles, letting them bicker as long as they want. He had missed that. He always misses everything about them when they’re not around.

Yes, a few laws will have to change, one way or another, he thinks with determination as another voice, uncle Lacros’ voice, definitely less pleasant than the female voice haunting his daydreams recently, reminds him he’s only supposed to marry one person, and that person must be a representative of Tanit’s upper class. That includes Shannen, but where would that leave Langley? Behind, that’s where it would leave him. And Celes doesn’t wanna leave any of them behind. Unless they’re having sex. In that case, they can be behind him, up in front of him, underneath or above him all they want.

“Ah, before we forget!” Langley interrupts his train of thoughts, moving closer again. Celes notices he tidied up his clothes and so did Shannen, so he hastens to put on a silky nightgown to avoid feeling even more ridiculous than he already does. “We got you something.”

“Something?” Celes frowns, “Like what?”

“Like a present,” Shannen explains, “Don’t be a bitch and take it.”

Celes blinks and turns back towards Langley, receiving a simple white box from his hands. He puts it down on the dressing table and opens it, revealing a tiara inside, hidden underneath a couple layers of veils.

His heart starts beating faster upon seeing it. It’s a battle one, or so it seems. Thin and made in the same exact magic material he used to craft his own armor – clearly made using an Academy spell, as expected from Shannen and Langley. It shines silver and blue as he lifts it up from its case and carries it to the window, to observe it better under direct light. It will cross his whole forehead, and it’s got wings on the sides. No gemstones or crystals – simple, graceful, elegant and a little swag, shining only with metal, just as he likes it.

It’s perfect for him.

His eyes fill with tears as he turns to look back at his boyfriends. “Guys…!” he says with a broken voice.

Langley laughs. Shannen smirks with clear satisfaction.

Well, at least one law will have to change right away, after all. Because this is the only crown he’s going to wear for the rest of his life. Uncle Lacros and Lord Dell’Angelo will have to bow down.