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“So lemme get this straight,” Tarquin says as he carefully rounds the corner of the big black desk in the bedchamber at the Divine’s Manor. “When you called for me because of a ‘situation’, this is what you meant?”Tarquin stares at the exact copy of Ashur that’s currently following Tarquin’s path, walking after him without breaking eye contact.“I’m sorry,” the real Ashur says for the nth time.“You keep saying that, but I still don’t know why you’re sorry. Or what this—thing even is.”“It’s a—” Ashur starts, and Tarquin tries to focus, he really does. He’s just never been one to give a shit about weird ass magic and things concerning demons or spirits and the Fade and all that stuff. It’s also difficult to listen when he has what is basically Ashur—dressed in the Viper outfit and all, save for the mask and hat—pinning him down with such an intense stare.There’s something about desire and deepest wants, that part he does pick up on Ashur saying, though.“Maker, Ashur, how long has it been since you got your dick wet if the situation is so dire you’ve summoned a desire demon? Just go get laid! There can’t exactly be a shortage of men who’d want to bone either the Divine or the Viper.”“Tarquin,” Ashur says and he actually sounds properly scandalized, for once. “Do you think that’s how I pick my companions? Based on who’d be happy to trade favours with me?”“I—” Tarquin snaps his mouth shut at the bite in Ashur’s voice. “No, of course not, that’s not what I—”“It wouldn’t work, anyway,” the spirit-magic-whatever copy thing says as he closes in on Tarquin, stopping just short of their bodies touching as Tarquin’s back hits the wall. Ashur’s not even that much taller than him, not really, but his shoulders are so broad and his body so big, Tarquin feels like he might as well be a stick figure crowded up so close to him. Well, to Ashur’s exact copy, anyway. “No one else will do.”Tarquin flicks his gaze between Ashur and his copy, bewildered. “What d’you mean no one else?”“Has to be you,” not-Ashur says and reaches out for Tarquin, stroking the back of his knuckles down his jawline.Tarquin snaps his eyes to him, staring in shock while frozen in place.If this is a spirit, there is no evidence of that giving it away. The body is solid, teal eyes just as beautiful as Ashur’s own, the fingers caressing down Tarquin’s cheek to cup his chin and tilt his face up warm and sure. “Hey—knock it off.” Ashur closes in on them, grabbing his copy’s wrist and wrenching it away. “We agreed. No touching.” There can be a little touching, Tarquin just barely stops himself from blurting out. He already misses Ashur’s fingers on him. Or, not-Ashur’s fingers. Because Ashur doesn’t do that kind of thing to him.The copy doesn’t look away from Tarquin, doesn’t even flinch. “It’s… even stronger than I expected,” he says in a perfect replica of Ashur’s low husky voice. It makes heat pool low in Tarquin’s stomach, spreading down between his hips, and Maker, he wants. Apparently he’s so desperate for Ashur that even some kind of magical copy of him makes him weak in the knees and desperately turned on.Tarquin’s discovering a new low for himself today.“Ashur.” Tarquin tears his gaze away from Ashur’s—not Ashur’s, but exactly Ashur’s—piercing blue eyes and looks at the real version of the man. “What is it talking about?”Ashur ducks his head. He doesn’t look bashful, the way he often does when Tarquin can’t help himself and says something a little too crude or overly flirtatious. Instead he looks guilty. “I—that’s what I was trying to tell you, Quin. It’s not about physical needs, it’s about—one’s personal desires. It’s, ah. More about specific scenarios.”Oh, Ashur’s face is fucking glowing from how red his cheeks go.Tarquin just keeps staring at him, unable to make sense of what he’s hearing. His eyes have probably never been so wide in his life.“But then—why—” He gapes, closing his mouth. “Me?” Ashur closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Maker, in all my daydreams, I never once pictured it like this,” he says, voice small and sad.“In all of your daydreams?” Tarquin throws a hand out. Which is a bad idea because it ends up landing on spirit-thing Ashur’s upper arm, by its perfect copy of Ashur’s thick bicep. Not-Ashur makes a little noise as it happens and Tarquin glances over at him, unable to stop himself from wrapping his hand around the muscle and squeezing it a bit. Tarquin drops his hand like the touch burns when he realizes what he’s doing, turning back to Ashur. “Been, uh—thinking about this a lot, have you, Ashur?”It sounds way flirtier than he intends, because seriously, he is asking. Nothing right now makes any damn sense.“Tarquin.” Ashur steps closer, holding his head high and looking him in the eyes, even though Tarquin can tell he’s still overcome with embarrassment. “I didn’t bring you here to make you feel as—as though you need to do something for me. I figured if I got you here, I could finally put this out there, and now you can just reject me and then it’ll change what I want, anyway. I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Other than… um. The embarrassment of this whole situation, I suppose.”“Ash—”“Please,” Ashur cuts him off and drops his gaze again, staring at the floor between them, sounding like a broken man. “Just tell me you don’t want me. Maybe—hopefully it will help.”Swallowing thickly, Tarquin gathers the courage to lift a hand and touch Ashur’s chin, making him look up at him again with furrowed brows. “Would this horny little magical manifestation thing of yours know if someone’s lying?”“I—what?” Ashur frowns.Tarquin moves his hand to the curve of Ashur’s neck, cupping his throat. “I can’t say I don’t want you. Not if you want me to be honest about it. Maker’s tight cunt, Ashur, I’ve been jerking off to the thought of you since the night we first met.”They both stare at each other.Tarquin holds his breath, knowing there’s been a shift between them there’s no going back from now. He’s just never imagined that this moment happening could ever be a good thing, where Ashur felt the same. Not bothering waiting for Ashur to come up with a reply—they’ve waited long enough already, fuck, all that time they’ve wasted—Tarquin pulls him in, and then surges in to kiss him hard.Ashur makes the sweetest little desperate noise against him, wrapping both arms around Tarquin’s back and pulling him close. They’re both in casual clothes, only the thin fabric of their tunics between them as they press up chest to chest and part their lips wider, tongues moving together as they both moan.Tarquin thinks he could probably be happily lost in the feeling of exploring Ashur’s mouth with his tongue for the rest of his life, if it weren’t for the hand that strokes through his hair before gripping it firmly and ripping him away from Ashur’s gasping lips. Dazed, Tarquin needs a moment just to collect his thoughts again to realize Ashur’s exact fucking copy is holding him in place, turning his face to the side and then—he’s being kissed by the second Ashur too.“Wait,” Ashur says breathlessly next to them, “are you okay with—?”Tarquin gets one arm around the copy’s neck and pulls him deeper into the kiss, his other hand stroking its thumb across Ashur’s cheek in encouragement.Really, he’s never been more okay with anything in his whole life. Ashur’s gotta stop worrying and focus on what’s important here.Maker, this whole thing is really, really weird if he thinks about it, but he simply doesn’t have time to care about that when the copy crowds up against him. It makes Ashur himself step in closer too, boxing Tarquin in against the wall, and oh, there is no place in this world he would rather be than sandwiched in right here. Suddenly he can’t remember much of his issues with magic. It’s pretty neat, when it’s able to give him this. Turns out most Magister shitheads have just been using it wrong this whole time. Figures.“So, what—what exactly do you need?” Tarquin breaks away with a panted gasp to ask, trying to catch his breath. “We’ll have to fuck, right?” Please say we have to all fuck, he silently adds to himself. If there really is a Maker, let this be how he blesses his most devoted servant, the Divine. Let this be what Ashur wants. Tarquin will so happily give it to him.“If that is something you would be okay wi—” Ashur starts.“Yes,” his copy interrupts, confident and sure, ducking in to kiss at Tarquin’s neck and sliding both of his big palms in under Tarquin’s tunic to smooth across bare skin, short fingernails dragging across the hair on his stomach leading downwards to his crotch. Tarquin’s eyes roll back from how good such a simple touch can feel when it’s the right person. Or even just the right person’s wacky magic twin.“Come on,” Tarquin says and with more willpower than he’s ever mustered up for anything in his life, manages to get out from between them. Both Ashurs pout, a sight that makes Tarquin’s heart squeeze in his chest from the fondness blooming in it. He makes his way over to the bed at the other end of the room, holding up a hand to beckon for them. “Get over here, then.”Both of them stumble to do as they’re told, practically elbowing each other to reach him first until Tarquin stops them.“Wait,” he says, watching Ashur where he’s standing, beautiful and broad and dressed down. His copy is certainly just as breathtaking, but wearing even more unnecessary layers. “Undress each other.”“Oh,” Ashur says, dumbfounded.“Ah,” Ashur’s copy says, grinning.Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning at the wooden pillar by the end of the bed, Tarquin tilts his head at them, giving the real Ashur his best wide-eyed look. “C’mon, Ashur. Do it for me.”Ashur’s spirit-thingie twin seems to be Ashur with no inhibitions because he grabs Ashur by the hips, tugging him close. When he leans in, Tarquin’s sure for a moment that Ashur’s going to turn his face away, but—to his great surprise and excitement, Ashur closes the last small distance and kisses his copy back.Tarquin’s fairly certain this can’t be real. He’s hit his head, or is being put through some weird ass blood magic ritual, or a desire demon is playing tricks on his mind. Not even in his wildest fantasies—and he’s had plenty of ’em—has Ashur ever been moaning while making out with himself right in front of Tarquin’s eyes. Here Ashur is, though, doing just that while his copy grabs the ends of Ashur’s tunic and pulls it up over Ashur’s head as Ashur raises his arms to let him.They make quick work of shedding all their other layers, the copy of the big Viper cape falling to the ground, followed by everything else. Tarquin can’t quite decide if he’s bummed about how fast it’s done or if it’s not quick enough.There isn’t too much time to think about it, anyway, once they’re both standing naked in front of him.“Holy fuck,” Tarquin whispers. He can’t stop staring at Ashur’s cock. His cocks—both of them. They’re already well on their way to fully hard, straining to stand against their own massive glory.Real Ashur moves to him first, grabbing Tarquin by the hips and pulling him up close against him. He buries his face against Tarquin’s neck, breathing him in while Tarquin clutches at the bare skin of Ashur’s shoulders, head spinning over the fact that he has a naked Ashur pressed up against him and he can feel his perfect cock right against his hip as Ashur grinds a little against him.“Ashur, please,” Tarquin breathes out. It’s the most difficult word in the world for him to say, yet it’s never left his lips so easily before.“What do you want, baby?” Ashur whispers against his jaw. Tarquin’s pretty sure he would pass out if Ashur wasn’t gripping him so tightly and if Tarquin wasn’t so determined to get to feel him inside. Still…“You’re the one who’s summoned some weird sex demon. Or spirit, or—whatever, just to make this happen,” he says and licks his lips. Tilting his head back to give Ashur better access to kiss at his neck, Tarquin’s immediately met with said sex demon grabbing him by the back of his head and kissing him again.Tarquin whimpers, honest to maker whimpers. Ashur’s hands slide down to grab his ass, squeezing it roughly. His hands are so big, Tarquin thinks they might’ve just been made specifically for this situation, to fit so perfectly right there.“Tell us what you like,” the copy says, moving the hand not holding Tarquin’s head to stroke across his bottom lip, plump and spit-slick from their kiss.“Maker, I don’t even care,” Tarquin growls. “I have three holes you can fuck and there are two of you, just take your pick and give it to me.”The world spins for a moment as he’s lifted up and roughly thrown onto the bed, landing on the soft firm mattress so hard he bounces. Then both Ashurs are on him, climbing after and tearing at his clothes with unrestrained hunger until he’s naked too, both men—or whatever the second one is—kissing and licking their way across Tarquin’s skin.“Fuck, please, just—bloody do something or I’ll—” Tarquin’s cut off with a cry as Ashur—he thinks it’s Ashur, the real one—gets a hand between Tarquin’s spread legs and touches his cock, fingers slipping down further before one is pushing inside him.“Oil, in the nightstand,” Ashur says to the other, and yeah—this is his Ashur, since he knows where to find things in here. He turns his attention back to Tarquin, finger sliding in and out and then back up to his cock, teasing. “This enough of a ‘something’?” “No.” Tarquin lifts his calf, hooking his leg around Ashur’s hip. “Put it in me,” he growls, pulling Ashur in close for another kiss with a moan as Ashur finally buries two of his long fingers all the way inside him.“Better?” Ashur murmurs against Tarquin’s gasping lips.“Fuck me,” Tarquin says, the only thing in his mind right now.“We will, baby,” Ashur says against his mouth between kisses. “Both at once?”Tarquin cries out; at Ashur’s words or how good he is with his fingers, who can say. “I—yeah. Yes. Fuck.”Then the second Ashur crowds back in, pushing Ashur away and grabbing at Tarquin, manhandling him again until he finds himself lifted up and flipped over. He lifts his head, on his hands and knees on the bed with real Ashur in front of him and the copy behind him.“Oh, fuck,” Tarquin says weakly as he stares at Ashur’s big cock right by his face, before his hips get grabbed firmly to pull him back a little. The Ashur behind him crowds in close and knocks Tarquin’s legs further apart, pushing at his back, getting him ass up and face down before groping his cheeks with both hands and spreading him open, hole on display.Tarquin chokes back a whine, both from embarrassment and with need. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so pathetic before in his life.Certainly he has never enjoyed feeling so pathetic ever before.He gets himself up just enough to sway forward, one hand coming up to real Ashur’s hip to pull him in closer, getting the head of Ashur’s cock in his mouth just so he has something to do with himself. If Ashur buries the whole length of himself down his throat, then at least there’ll be an excuse for the tears threatening to leave the corners of Tarquin’s eyes just from how desperate and needy he feels.Ashur groans, like having Tarquin’s lips wrapped around his cockhead is the best thing he’s ever experienced in life, his hands coming up to sink into Tarquin’s long hair.Tarquin could so easily get lost in this, simply the sensation of Ashur’s dick in his mouth, resting on his tongue, but then a slick finger touches his ass. Tarquin whimpers, back arching as he tries to both spread his legs more and sink down further with his mouth, doing his best to focus on giving Ashur the best blowjob he’s ever had.His insides burn when Ashur in front of him cards a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “Eager thing for this, aren’t you, Quin?”Again—Ashur is the pervert who has the manifestation of his sex dreams currently stretching Tarquin’s asshole open, with what has to be three thick fingers in there by now. He can’t say anything about it, though, stuffed full of cock as his mouth is.Ashur glances away, up at his copy, before back to Tarquin. Then he’s grabbing Tarquin by the bangs and pulling him off, a nasty wet noise between them as his cock leaves Tarquin’s eager mouth, a string of spit still connecting them while Ashur stares down at him. Ashur lifts his hand, stroking it across Tarquin’s messy mouth.“Ashur,” Tarquin starts, trying to get back to his cock. He wants to take him deeper, show Ashur just how good he can make it, take him all the way down and fuck his own face on it until Ashur’s losing his mind over it.“Shh, baby,” Ashur says. Tarquin wants to tell him to shut up, the pet name and the warm affection in Ashur’s voice when he says it making Tarquin’s cheeks burn in a way he can’t decide if he wants to fight and flee from or curl up in Ashur’s lap and hide his face in his neck over. Either way he’s distracted, as just then two large hands grab his hips again and then the thick head of the other Ashur’s cock presses against his ass. The real Ashur looks down at him with a smile, like there’s no sight more precious to him in this world. “I want to see your face when you take me for the first time.”Tarquin lets out a noise, not sure if it’s a laugh or a moan, but it quickly ends in a loud groan as the Ashur behind him sinks all the way inside, balls deep in his ass. “Oh, fuck—Ashur, I—” Tarquin’s arms give out, the only thing holding him up being the grip Ashur still has in his hair as the Ashur behind him slaps his ass hard.Crying out in surprise as he clenches around the cock inside him, Tarquin gasps as the Ashur behind him bends over, draping himself across his back and getting an arm around Tarquin’s front, grabbing him by the throat.Then he’s moved again, nothing he can do but clutch onto the large forearm holding his chest as Ashur’s copy straightens up, pulling Tarquin with him and settling him into his lap with Tarquin’s back pressed to not-Ashur’s big muscular tits.Using the hold on Tarquin’s neck, second Ashur tilts his head to the side so he can kiss him, open-mouthed and filthy. “You feel so good,” he says against Tarquin’s lips, voice low and rough. “Better than anything he’s ever imagined.”They both turn to stare at real Ashur who’s watching them with wide dark eyes, his lips parted as he slowly strokes his own cock at the sight. Tarquin’s eyes drop down at the movement, staring at Ashur’s big fist where it’s wrapped around himself.“Come here and fuck him already,” the copy says, grinding his hips up into Tarquin’s ass and making him whine. “Said he wanted us both at the same time, didn’t he? Time to give our man what he wants.”Tarquin moans, and Ashur doesn’t need to be told twice—he quickly closes the small distance between them, grabs Tarquin by the face with one hand and kisses him, then uses his other palm to cup his copy’s cheek and kisses him too. Tarquin’s eyelids flutter shut, his head tipping back with a breathless groan. Then he’s pressed more firmly back against the copy as Ashur gets a hand behind one of Tarquin’s knees, lifting it up and spreading him open. Next he knows, Ashur’s cock is at his cunt, starting to sink in.Tarquin tries not to sob, hands desperately scrambling for something to hold onto.It’s already too much, being so filled and full.It’s also not enough, not until he has all of Ashur in him, buried deep and fucking him in every way possible until it’s all Tarquin knows.“You okay, Quin?” Ashur’s soft voice comes as he cups his face in both hands, so sweet and tender for someone half buried inside him.Tarquin nods, blinking at him with wet eyelashes. “I wan’ it,” he says, voice a little slurred from how overwhelmed he feels. “You’re just—so bloody big.”Ashur kisses him tenderly in reply, like Tarquin’s not only making perfect sense but is being kind of cute about it. He wraps his arm around Tarquin’s shoulders, kissing his way up his cheek, pressing his lips against his ear. “Be good for me,” he murmurs, then fucks himself all the way inside.Tarquin cries out, one arm grabbing at Ashur’s shoulders, the other coming up to hold the back of the head of the Ashur behind him. All three of them pant, holding still as Tarquin tries to adjust—it’s hard to breathe, nowhere for him to go as he squirms in not-Ashur’s lap.“Fuck me,” he orders, or begs, he doesn’t know anymore. “Fuck me, please—”“Are you sure? We—” “Ashur, Maker, move.”With a bruising kiss from the real man, both versions of his love do as they’re told.It takes some work to find a good rhythm, but Tarquin can’t do much pinned in place between them as he is other than go along for the ride, anyway. Finally the copy holds him by the ass with one hand, the other behind the knee while Ashur flings his other leg up on his shoulder as he starts pounding into him in time with the Ashur behind him fucking up to meet his movement.Neither of them ever shut up as they take him, praising how good he feels, how good he is, how well he’s taking them—an endless string of words that sink into Tarquin’s chest and stitches up a wound he didn’t know was left gaping inside him. He wants to fight it, wants to claw and beg and get Ashur to stop talking; wants Ashur to hold him down and ignore it, force Tarquin to hear all the lovely things he has to say about him until he’s crying from how much he believes it when Ashur’s the one telling him he’s worth something. Closing his eyes against the overwhelm, Tarquin focuses on how good Ashur feels where they’re both fucking him so he doesn’t have to think about what his heart is doing to him.“Harder,” Tarquin demands with a low growl, already knowing he’s going to be so sore he probably can’t even walk without a limp tomorrow. He wants it with a surprising need; wants Ashur to use him until he has to stay in bed and heal up. Ashur could use his magic to help him, sure, but Tarquin would only allow it for the purpose of making it possible to go again.He didn’t think it was possible for it to get any better, but Ashur—both of them—happily comply with his request, holding him in place and pounding into him so hard he screams. Tarquin desperately prays there aren’t any poor servants or other people nearby in this whole wing of the Manor, or they will know exactly what the Divine is up to tonight.Or maybe he does want that, wants them all to hear how well Ashur treats him and no one else.“Ashur,” Tarquin says, or tries to say, between hiccuped sobs from how good he’s fucked. Mostly what ends up leaving him is another loud broken moan.“Quin.” Ashur’s hand comes up to touch his face. “Baby,” he whispers, reverent. His thumb strokes across Tarquin’s cheek, coming away wet with tears.It all builds too fast.Drawn out as it’s been, Tarquin doesn’t want this to end, never wants this night to be over. He wants to stay like this forever, with Ashur inside him and surrounding him, filled up with his perfect cock in both holes and his tongue in his mouth and his eager, loving hands stroking his body.But Tarquin, he can’t—he’s not—He comes with a shout, whole body seizing up as both Ashurs keep fucking him through it, until everything goes dark. —— There are lips pressing kisses to his cheek, his body wrapped up in strong arms holding him as he wakes up.“Quin,” Ashur whispers softly against his skin.“Shit,” Tarquin says, barely able to get the word out from how sore his throat is.“You doing okay?”Closing his eyes again, Tarquin nods. “Did I—fucking pass out?” he rasps.The chuckle Ashur lets out makes his whole chest rumble, and Tarquin’s whole body tingles pleasantly from the realization that he can feel it vibrate against him because he’s spooned up against Ashur’s naked body. With him. In bed. After they fucked. All they’ve already done tonight, yet it takes his breath away.“Mm.” Ashur noses at his hair above his ear. “Glad you enjoyed yourself as much as I did.”“Hang on.” Tarquin opens his sleepy eyes, turning a little to look at him. “Where did…?”“Oh, it’s disappeared.” Ashur presses a kiss to Tarquin’s lips. “Told you, it was only here to fulfill a purpose.”“Wasn’t listenin’ to half of it,” Tarquin mutters, earning himself another fond little laugh.“Of course you weren’t.”“Gonna miss him. That was fun.” Shifting a little, Tarquin realizes there’s not much of a mess between his legs—neither his own or from the two men who must’ve kept fucking him until they came inside him. Tarquin shivers, pleasant goosebumps on his skin from the thought of Ashur taking care of him and cleaning him up while he was too out of it to do it himself.Ashur hums again. “I hope… you won’t mind just me being left. I don’t think I can make that happen again for some time, at least.”It’s Tarquin’s turn to chuckle. He turns over fully to face Ashur, gripping his face and kissing him hard, ending it with a playful little nip to his bottom lip. “Been wantin’ only you for a long time, Ashur.”“Does that mean we can keep doing this, then?” Ashur says hopefully, with a hint of airiness to his voice that tells Tarquin he’s craving a serious answer, much as he’s trying to hide it. “Even without any magical intervention?”Tarquin kisses him again, stroking his hand over the short strands of Ashur’s hair as he smiles. “Let me take a nap. Then we’ll fuck, just you and me this time. Bet it’ll be even better.”Ashur laughs again and pulls him close, rolling them over to press Tarquin into the mattress with another deep, lazy kiss.His mouth tastes like finally finding home.