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Astarion adored his dear lover to bits, but sometimes the man's insatiable appetite was truly mind-boggling.
He wasn't surprised that he found the rambunctious tiefling lusting after another man—he was a bard, it came with the territory—but the current object of his darling flutist's desires was, well…
Alarming wasn't quite the word, though Astarion was certainly baffled by his choice.
It was inevitable that his spicy little paramour would want to bring another party into their dynamic for a night of passion, as promiscuous as he was. Astarion had no issues with that part at all. He had, however, hoped that Tav would be a bit more discerning about who he extended that invitation to.
Then again this was Tav.
The same person who, when their noble Guardian turned out to be one of the very same tentacle ridden monsters that were trying to assimilate them into an evil hive mind, briefly considered exactly what sorts of sordid acts those long, dexterous appendages could perform.
The rogue supposed he should count his blessings that Tav was at least considering a humanoid partner. Even if that human was about as astute as a bag of bricks.
But alas, of all their (frighteningly) charming traveling companions, of course his sweet dove had to go and choose Minsc.
He should have known better than to expect the musician to be so mundane in his choices when he'd knowingly taken a vampire into his bed.
The bumbling brute wouldn't have been his first choice (or his second) among the motley crew of companions they'd picked up along their travels. Hells, he could even see Gale being a more prominent candidate despite his constant need to turn every conversation into a novel of overly embroidered speech.
At least the wizard had two brain cells to rub together…
Astarion was trying his hardest not to judge a book by its proverbial cover, but honestly, that man was quite possibly all cover and no pages.
Still, when Tav set his eyes on the berserker that very first time in the Counting House vault, clawing his way out of a Mimic and tossing it around like it was nothing, Astarion knew the randy bard would want a taste of him.
Sometimes at the end of the day, when they were both too exhausted for anything more strenuous than chatting, the two of them spent the night sharing a bottle of wine and exchanging names of who they'd like to fuck if given the chance.
Unsurprisingly, the horny devil's registry of potential bed partners vastly outnumbered his own paltry selection—if only because he'd developed standards now that he wasn’t forced to seduce anything with a pulse.
That's how the noble Minsc of Rasheman was brought into their conversation.
Somehow, Tav found the lunatic's ramblings charming rather than unsettling. Astarion would question the bard's tastes if he himself wasn't at the very top of the aforementioned list.
While some of the tiefling's choices like Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae'Zel—pretty much their entire party except Gale, shockingly—seemed to be off the table for one reason or another, then there was Minsc.
Astarion had reservations about breaching the subject with the dimwitted ranger. Mostly because he wasn't entirely sure the oaf had enough self awareness to actually consent to their offer, but one look at the bard's pleading, obsidian eyes was enough to get him on board.
Sometimes he had to ask himself if Tav was truly the one wrapped around his finger, or if it wasn't the other way around.
It took some convincing for their plan to finally be set in motion. Not in terms of sex—Minsc was surprisingly agreeable to that part, though it took an absurd amount of persuasion to get him to leave that stupid rodent behind.
Astarion wasn't reserved by any means, but even he drew the line at letting a damned hamster watch them get it on.
Minsc had gone to Jaheira, asking if she'd accept the honor of temporarily adopting the great warrior as her ward while he 'broke his long standing abstinence and allowed his loins to seek the pleasures they so desired', whatever the hells that was supposed to mean.
Jaheira, bless her heart, had refused to ask further questions and agreed to babysit the tiny creature so long as they didn't wake the city with their 'garish squawking', as she had put it.
And thus, they found themselves sneaking away to one of the city's many boarded off homesteads under the veil of night to partake in their amorous affairs.
Before they began, some ground rules had to be set in place.
Astarion took charge since someone had to be the responsible one—and gods, wasn't it a terrifying thought that he was deemed the responsible one. And also because most of the restrictions set in place were at his own discretion.
It was more or less the usual things. Don't overstep, respect each other's boundaries, so on and so forth. His only real restriction was that Astarion was more or less off limits to the berserker. It wasn't that he was repulsed by the man—thick headedness aside, he supposed the brute did have his charms, but Minsc wasn't his type in the slightest. This was mostly for Tav's enjoyment anyway. He was just here as a chaperone of sorts.
That, and he did take his own pleasure in watching his lover devolve into ecstasy, whether at his hand or another's.
Of course he wouldn't pitch a fit if the the large man accidentally brushed a hand against his skin, it was bound to happen, but he wouldn't accept any lust driven touches unless they were from Tav.
Minsc didn't seem to mind the guidelines and didn't offer any of his own other than mentioning that there was a spot somewhere on the back of his neck that would make him instantly pass out if it was pressed too hard. He also said nothing about avoiding that particular area, he just simply brought it up.
Neither of them anticipated that they would need to go to such extremes tonight, but Astarion did stash that information away for later.
Things began slowly at first, and a bit awkward if he's honest. It would seem certain aspects of the berserker were still frozen in time, but a little bit of hands-on encouragement from their dear bard was all it took to bring the Stone Lord back to life.
Turns out there was some truth when he'd said that Tav's libidinousness could make even a statue's loins stir.
Things accelerated quickly from that point.
Tav had already prepped himself—well, with a bit of help from a certain roguish vampire—knowing full and well he'd want to take the brute. Minsc had no objections, willing to take his pleasure in just about any form it was offered to him after over a century of celibacy.
Astarion would have thought the Rashemaar's technique had gone rusty after all that time encased in stone, but judging by the way his rakish lover was howling in pleasure and scraping at the floor, Tav was thoroughly enjoying himself.
The whimsical instrumenteer was a corpuscular sight to behold, strung between them on his knees.
His lover's sinful mouth is gagged by his cock, wet, slick and hot around the pallid flesh. It slides over him beautifully every time Minsc thrusts forward, taking him all the way into that pretty mouth. Astarion's hands are firmly gripping the slight curve of the tiefling's horns, stroking them like he would the flesh of a man.
He knows Tav is especially fond of having his horns teased and toyed with, especially during sex. It's something he likes to exploit at any given chance, loving the discordant sounds it drags out of the oversexed bard.
It's almost a shame that those lovely sounds are currently muffled.
From behind him, the berserker plunges his way back inside of Tav up to the hilt, splitting the tiefling open around his sizable girth. Tav presses back against every rough shove, keening as the huge man leans into him with all of his weight.
There's nothing gentle about the way Minsc fucks. It's the same way he holds himself in battle—blundering, haphazard strikes that somehow manage to hit their mark. Tav's never been handled so roughly, even when he asks for it.
…He loves it.
The vicious onslaught keeps his mind from straying. Thick fingers dig into the ridged skin at his hips, hard enough to leave bruises behind long after this night is over. He loves it when his lovers leave lasting marks on his body, as a sort of proof of plunder. He considers them trophies to look back on fondly. Especially the semi-permanent puncture scars on his neck.
Tav is a blubbering mess as he's pounded into relentlessly from behind, letting out strings of broken moans every time Minsc's cock slips in and out of his eager body. The thick head catches against his rim with every drag, pulling out even more strangled noises from the scrambling tiefling.
It's suddenly getting very hard to keep pace when he's being rigorously fucked from both sides.
Astarion's cock slips ungraciously out of his mouth as Tav sinks further down onto all fours, dragging his talons across the hardwood until it splinters and peels under his sharp claws. Even with the soft blankets under them, his knees are ruined, rubbed red and raw from the repeated friction.
The turbulent pace of Minsc's ruthless fucking feels incredible, pleasure and pain coming together in a way that’s driving him mad with lust.
Every thrust is brutal, punching strangled noises and whimpers out of him. He enjoys rough sex more than most, but it's quickly becoming too much for even someone of his caliber and unorthodox proclivities to bear.
As much as he likes to test them, Tav knows his limits.
He holds out for a few more satisfying thrusts, then scrambles a hand back to dig into the bald man's meaty thigh, squeezing hard.
"S-slow down." He sputters.
Without question, Minsc's vigorous motions come to an abrupt halt. His grip on the tiefling’s waist loosens, leaving behind dark, red indents where his fingers had been.
Tav feels a large palm slide up his flank to rub soothing circles into his skin. So the brute can be gentle after all.
"Are you alright, precious fyrra? Minsc did not mean to hurt you."
The tiefling is breathing so hard, desperately trying to fill his deprived lungs of precious oxygen, that it takes him a full ten seconds before he finds the strength to speak.
"I'm fine." Tav reassures through ragged breaths, shaking his head. His legs are trembling with the effort to hold himself up. "It's just…a lot."
He's a little embarrassed to admit it, but the bard's been with enough people that he knows how to separate desire from need—a skill that came in exceedingly handy considering he chose Astarion as his partner.
The hand at his side glides upwards, pulling him up from the floor until his back is pressed flush against the warrior's massive chest.
"I will be gentler, my sweet satyr, if that is what you require." Minsc's nose nudges at the side of his face, seeking his mouth.
Tav tilts his head back, letting the giant kiss him. It's tender and soft compared to his prior actions, though the ranger's chapped lips and stubble scrape against his face. Tav shivers as a tongue slides along his bottom lip, slowly teasing its way into the tiefling's mouth. In comparison to the preceding savagery, he's a surprisingly docile kisser, the bard can't help but note.
Suddenly, before they have a chance to lose themselves in the tender moment, Minsc's mouth is not-so-gently ripped away from him by pale, perfectly manicured fingers.
Astarion grasps the Rashemaar by his earlobe, sharply tugging the brute towards him until they are eye to eye. He regards the other with a covetous look, protective of his beloved Tav.
"Watch yourself, ranger." Astarion's purr is laced with warning. "You may be our esteemed guest this evening, but don't forget—he’s mine."
Tav shivers at the possessive note in his lover's voice Minsc's arms loosen their hold around his middle. Without the support, Tav slumps back down on hands and knees, dropping his head low between his shoulder blades until his horns drag against the wood, leaving shallow grooves in the cracked foundation.
"Ah, apologies, my toothsome friend." Minsc's laugh has just a hint of nervousness to it. "Minsc promises to be the very picture of virtue—ah, at least in some of its definitions."
Astarion is satisfied enough with the berserker's resolution. He releases the man without further injury, sparing a glance down at his lover to check in. Despite needing a break just a few moments ago, the lack of friction has left the ravenous tiefling wanting. Tav seems eager to resume their activities, if the indents his fingernails are leaving in the rotten wood are any indication.
"Can we continue with the making of passion now?" Minsc asks innocently.
"Yes." Tav answers immediately, pressing back against the ranger in eager affirmation.
Without further coaxing, they resume frantically rutting against one another. True to his word, Minsc dials it back. A little. His thrusts are still powerful enough to make the horny devil cry out in pleasure, but it's at a pace Tav can actually handle.
As much as Astarion wants to slide his cock back into that tight, wet heat, he isn't going to risk overwhelming his lover a second time. Though he does still plan on using the beloved tiefling's mouth.
Astarion reaches down with gentle hands to pull the tiefling back up until Tav is standing upright on his knees, sandwiched between them. The rogue's fingers are gentle in contrast to the ranger's hips as they cradle his face, but the resulting kiss is anything but.
His teeth nip at Tav's bottom lip, sucking it into his own mouth. Trembling ands grip at the front of his chest, sharp fingernails leaving long grooves in the vampire’s ghostly pale skin. He feels the infernal's cock brush against his, spurred flesh dragging against the smooth shaft of his own skin, eliciting a pleasant tingle as heat pools in his belly. As much heat as an undead can feel, at least.
Astarion's hands move to grip onto boney hips, pulling Tav flush against his body. He rolls his hips in quick, fluid motions against his lover, chasing the delicious friction. Every moan is swallowed by a hungry kiss, every touch pure fire under his fingers.
Every muscle in Tav's body pulls tight as a bowstring as he feels the approaching orgasm. His body quakes from the intensity of it. Astarion can feel the wetness smear across his abdomen as Tav makes a mess between them.
He continues to grind his hips into Tav, waiting until his lover is fully spent before reaching a hand between their bodies to finish himself off. His hand moves vigorously, edged on by the delightful gasps the tiefling emits every time his knuckles brush against his oversensitive cock.
His mouth lingers over Tav's, breath mingling with the hellfiend's in suspension between them. It doesn't take long for Astarion to reach his own climax, ejaculate spilling over his fingers to join the mess Tav made all over him.
He's going to need a bath, preferably a hot one, before he can crawl into his bedroll for the night.
Behind them, Minsc has gone limp. He must have finished at some point when he and his lover were enraptured with one another.
"All dajemma pale in comparison to the journey you took me on, my friend." Minsc exhales roughly against the back of Tav's neck.
The tiefling shudders as he feels the hefty man pull out, leaving behind the mild sting of emptiness. He may just need to join Astarion in that bath, he thinks, feeling the familiar trickle of spend leaking down his thighs.
"Glad to know you enjoyed yourself." Tav hums, starting to feel the heavy tug of exhaustion. His body is already starting to ache, though in the most pleasant way possible.
"As am I, my horned companion." The large man chuckles. "For a moment Minsc was worried you might be too puny and delicate to handle such vigorous stride, but you managed yourself with the voracity of the great huhrong!"
Tav isn't entirely sure what that means, but he takes it as a compliment.