Release

Orym sighed as he lifted the large, heavy tankard to his lips. The ale is refreshing and heartening after another dangerous scrap, but his arms were stiffening from extended swordwork and a few hard hits.

“FCG, for your stasis, do you use the bed?”

“Why no, I don’t really need the bed to go into stasis. I kind of just shut down where I am.”

“Do you mind if I bunk with you two tonight? If that’s alright with you, Ashton.”

Ashton shrugged. “I don’t give a shit.”

“Fantastic. The three of us have been sharing the two cots in our room these last few days,” Orym says as he motions to Fearne and Dorian, “and I don’t think I can take another night on the floor or fighting for room with Mister.”

“Well shoot!” FCG piped up. “If I had known, I would have offered it sooner. Please, be welcome!”

“But Mister likes snuggling with you, Orym!” Fearne said.

Orym gave a wry smile at the snarling face of Mister peering from just past Fearne’s serene smile. “I think he prefers having you to himself, Fearne.”

—-

Ashton was unbuckling their leather jacket when they heard Orym’s muffled groan. They turned to see the halfling frozen, arm halted before it could reach the buckle at his shoulder. Orym was grimacing, clearly unwilling to pull at the barely healed wound at his side.

“Fuck, man, you should have said something. FCG might have a spell or two left to help with that,” Ashton said as they crossed the small room toward Orym.

“I’m fine,” Orym said in his quiet way. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Worry? I know you can handle your shit, Orym, but you’re not going to survive much longer if you keep throwing yourself between monsters and the rest of the group.” Ashton moved to unbuckle Orym’s breastplate for him, moving efficiently but careful of his injuries.

“That’s my job, Ashton. I am the shield.” Ashton rolled their eyes, unbuckling the other side and slowly peeling the armor off of the halfling. They tried and failed to be surreptitious as they eyed the muscled form of the halfling.

“Maybe once, but what’s the point of working with this team if you’re going to keep fighting like you’re the only one who can swing a weapon? Like your life is something you can throw away? What the fuck am I for if not to get in scraps alongside you?”

Orym looked thoughtful, then nodded in concession. “I guess I’m not used to relying on anyone else.” He carefully peeled off his shirt, wincing as the dried blood stuck cloth to his skin.

Ashton dipped a cloth into the water basin and knelt behind Orym, starting to wipe away the congealed blood on a barely closed wound.

Orym flinched, starting away from the unexpected touch. Orym spun around to raise an eye at Ashton. The genasi snorted. “Tense much?” Orym shrugged, not answering. “Look, you’re a mess. Let me help.”

Orym sighed, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“I know you don’t,” they replied. “But it’s nice to let someone.”

Orym closed his eyes, lowering hands that had tensed into fists to his side and turned. Slowly, Ashton began dabbing at the mess left by that day’s struggle. As they gently swept cloth over Orym’s back, they couldn’t help but appreciate the strong physique of the halfling. Though slight, his muscles were very well defined from years of swordwork. Tattoos that they had seen wrapping up his arms continued over his shoulder. The swirling clouds from his upper body transitioned to greenery down one side of his torso. Ashton’s fingers traced a vine that followed Orym’s ribs before they realized what they were doing.

“Sorry.” Ashton sat back on his heels as Orym turned to them.

“No, it’s… you’re right. It’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone take care of me.” Orym met Ashton’s gaze, caught for a moment trying to read the look he saw there.

“Ah well, same here. Been on my own too long. FCG has been trying to convince me to trust others. Guess I’d figure I’d try it out,” Ashton said with a wry smile. “Plus, it’d be a shame if you got yourself killed and left me alone up there one-on-one with these fucking things that keep coming for us,” they said, shaking off the vulnerability of the moment.

Orym smiled. “You can handle it.”

“So could you.”

Orym grinned appreciatively. “Most people don’t think so. They see a halfling and dismiss me like they would some kid.”

“That’s their fucking mistake then.”

Orym grabbed the blood-soaked cloth from Ashton’s hand. He dunked it in the basin, wringing it out. “Come on, you missed some,” he said, gesturing to another mostly healed piercing wound from a bolt that had found a gap in his armor. The skin was pink from a healing spell, but a trickle of blood had run down along the lines of his finely muscled chest.

Ashton reached for the proffered cloth, the corner of their mouth curling up. They caught Orym’s fingers in the cloth, pulling him a step closer. His other hand reached out to Ashton’s shoulder to steady himself and lingered there. Cloth in hand, they traced the puncture mark, wiping Orym’s skin clean. They traced the path of blood down one pectoral muscle. While their fingers held the cloth, their thumb swept out to brush the edge of Orym’s hardening nipple. Orym sucked in a breath, leaning into the touch. It had been so long and for a moment he felt overwhelmed by the light touch of their fingers tracing his skin.

“Is this alright?” asked Ashton, as their thumb dipped to Orym’s hip, catching a runnel of pink water dripping from his chest. They looked unsure, waiting for Orym to be his cautious self. While often the voice of reason, Orym was also the first to throw himself into a reckless challenge. Before he could overthink it, Orym grasped the back of Ashton’s neck and crashed his lips into theirs.

Ashton gasped into Orym’s mouth, before returning the kiss ferociously. Wet cloth abandoned, they gripped his hip hard, sliding the other back to the hardened nipple, swirling a thumb over it. They opened further to the kiss and Orym stepped closer, crushing his chest to theirs.

Orym’s small hands traced the jawline of the genasi as his teeth grazed their lower lip. He had admittedly wondered what the stonelike green skin would feel under his fingers. He relished the firm yet slightly giving muscle of their chest against his as his fingers continued to travel from jaw, down their neck and over their wide shoulder. He felt the edges of the gold that ran like old scars across their torso.

Ashton relinquished Orym’s mouth and began to messily crush kisses and bites down the halfling’s neck and shoulders before taking a light brown nipple into their mouth. Tracing circles with their tongue, they ran rough hands down Orym’s strong back, heedless of the healing wounds, and grasped him firmly by the ass.

Orym wrapped his legs around the genasi’s waist, moaning softly as his rapidly hardening cock found friction against Ashton’s stomach. As he settled on their lap, he smiled into another kiss as he felt their cock rising to the occasion underneath him, pressing up between his thighs. He reached a hand down, sliding his fingers over the length of them through their clothes. Ashton groaned, tipping their head back and exposing his throat to Orym’s hungry mouth. Continuing to tease their cock through their pants, Orym’s lips latched onto Ashton’s throat, teeth and tongue working on leaving a mark on the tough skin.

Ashton, still holding the man by the ass, rose to his knees, lifting Orym and carrying him to the bed. They crashed into the soft mattress together, swapping kisses and gropes like they were fighting to touch as much of each other as quickly as possible. Ashton rocked back, fumbling briefly at the laces on Orym’s pants before successfully freeing him, tearing the offending cloth down his legs and tossed them aside.

“Fuck, look at you,” Ashton groaned, taking in the view of the fit man sprawled on the bed before them.

“I hope you’ll do more than look,” Orym grinned, reaching with his toes to the waistband of Ashton’s pants, pushing them down his hips. Ashton returned the grin, unlacing his pants and sliding them off before returning to the fighter in their bed.

The pace slowed as Ashton brushed lips and tongue down the halfling’s torso, tracing the natural lines of his physique. Orym took in a deep breath as their lips pressed a hard kiss onto the hollow of a hip bone, their fingers leaving red marks as they counterbalanced on the other hip. He spread his thighs, making room for Ashton as they shifted lower, settling between his legs, their breath teasing against Orym’s aching cock.

A deep groan escaped him as Ashton’s tongue first licked up the sensitive underside. Before he could recover, Ashton swiftly took him into their mouth and sank to the root and Orym cried out louder than he expected.

Ashton relished in the salt and sweat of the man, the velvety skin smooth on their tongue and firm between their lips. They smiled as Orym struggled to catch a breath, sucking as they rose back to the tip, teasing the tip with their tongue. He was absolutely beautiful, this halfling, stretched out with lithe muscles tensing in ecstasy, one hand clutching a fistful of sheets and the other in his hair. They bobbed their head, setting a slow rhythm, relishing in the slide of skin over their tongue, occasionally teasing the tip.

Ashton came off of Orym’s cock, licking lower. He carefully popped his balls into their mouth. Pushing Orym’s thighs higher, Ashton’s tongue found the tight ring of muscle there and began probing. Orym was making all sorts of wonderful noises as first they traced the ring of muscle and then pushed deeper, sliding deliciously in and out as they gripped the firm thighs over their shoulders.

“Wait, wait,” Orym gasped. “I’m not going to last much longer if you keep going.”

Ashton paused to look up at him. “Yes, that’s rather the point.”

“Oh, no, I need you inside of me.”

Ashton’s eyebrows rose, surprised. “Are you sure? I’m happy getting off like this.”

“I’m definitely sure,” Orym almost growled, his blown dark eyes staring into Ashton’s. “I like to push myself. You’ve already called me out on being something of a masochist tonight. I can handle it, Ashton.”

A wicked grin spread across their face. “I’m not going to argue with that. Oil?”

“In my pack. Side pocket.”

Ashton quickly dug through the pack, finding a small flask of oil there and returning to the bed. Orym had turned over onto his stomach. Ashton ran an appreciative hand along the strong muscles of his back and over the perfect curve of his ass. Their thumb parted the cleft, exposing the puckered rim, already wet from their tongue, as the other uncapped the flask, pouring some into their hand. Slowly, he pressed a single oiled finger to Orym’s entrance. Orym released a slow steady breath to relax and pushed backward as Ashton’s finger pressed into him. A low moan escaped him and he muffled it with a pillow. “Fuck yes.”

Ashton pushed deeper as Orym adjusted, then slid their finger slowly in and out, grinning at the small gasps and writhing hips of the fighter. As Orym relaxed, they added a second finger. The sound that escaped his throat was too good, and Ashton’s hand flew to their cock to relieve the ache that was building.

They began scissoring their fingers, stretching the halfling’s hole. Orym pushed himself onto his knees and enthusiastically began pushing back on their hand, opening further. Ashton briefly crooked their fingers as they pulled out, searching for the spot inside and grinned when a deep groan exploded from Orym’s chest, letting Ashton know they had found it.

Orym’s eyes were wide and pupils blown as he looked back at the genasi. He grinned at the sight of Ashton already with their dick in hand. He shifted briefly, letting Ashton’s fingers slide out of him. He faced Ashton and placed his knees on their thighs, spreading wide and guiding their hand between. “More,” he whispered, as Ashton pushed two fingers back into him. Orym clung to the barbarian’s shoulders, pressing his forehead against their chest and exhaled deeply and he sank onto their hand, the third finger stretching him incomprehensibly. Orym’s thighs shook and Ashton waited. The halfling reached one hand down, wrapping his fingers around Ashton’s cock, stroking firmly. Ashton was in awe, watching the powerful frame of Orym flex as he sank onto their hand. He gripped the back of their neck, slowly riding their fingers, while the other wrapped around their cock, thumb teasing the slit and slicking the precum down their length.

Orym reached for the oil, pouring a small amount into his hand and slicking it generously up their shaft. “Ok,” whispered Orym, looking Ashton in their mismatched eyes. They caught their breath at the absolutely devastating look he gave them that promised he would absolutely ruin them. “Ok,” they whispered back. Orym pushed firmly on Ashton’s chest and they gave way, laying flat on the bed.

Orym rose, straddling the genasi’s hips, hands stroking down the firm lines of Ashton’s abs and hips. Breathing deeply, he lined the head of Ashton’s cock to his entrance and let gravity pull him slowly down. The stretch was incredible. He knew he was capable of taking it, but it had been some time since he had felt this full. He went slowly, pausing incrementally to adjust.

Ashton’s hands gripped Orym’s hips while Orym gripped his forearms to steady himself. They were momentarily afraid they would lose control just at the sight of their cock entering Orym oh so slowly. The view was absolute perfection and Ashton’s breath shook as they tried to keep as still as possible while Orym sank onto them. The tightness of that ring of muscle was all that kept them together in that moment.

Eventually Orym’s ass fell flush with Ashton’s hips and they both gasped at the sensation. Orym opened his eyes to see a rather shocked-looking Ashton, watching the halfling in disbelief, eyes blown wide with lust. He grinned with satisfaction. “Told you I could take it.”

“Fuck me,” was the only response Ashton could manage.

“I thought that’s what I was doing,” Orym chuckled. Ashton’s heart leapt a little at the laugh, which they hadn’t often heard from the quiet man.

Before Ashton could respond, Orym was moving, using Ashton’s grip on him as leverage to pull himself back up the length of their cock, tearing a groan from their throat. The pressure was unbelievable and they both knew they were hurtling to a quick ending. Orym leaned forward, placing his hands on Ashton’s chest to press himself up. As his weight brought him back down, Ashton’s hips rose to thrust into him. They found a rhythm, the sound of their breaths speeding up as Ashton gripped Orym’s thighs hard enough to bruise, slamming harder into his ass.

Orym could feel the pressure building behind his eyes and deep in his balls. “Ashton..” he gasped out. “I’m..” Ashton shifted their angle to make sure their cock hit that bundle of nerves deep inside him and took Orym’s weight in their arms as the man began to shake with the oncoming orgasm. Trusting Ashton to hold his weight, Orym gripped his own cock, pumping quickly. With a deep moan that Ashton felt straight in their cock, Orym’s mind went white and his body seized around the thickness inside of him, his seed spilling out over his fingers and onto Ashton below him, who slowed their thrusts until Orym completed.

Orym was taking deep, gasping breaths and opened his eyes again to take in the white cum spattered across the green and gold chest. He grinned shakily. “Just give me a second.”

“I’ll finish with my hand. I would mind messing your chest too.”

Orym looked Ashton dead in the eye. “I told you to fuck me.”

“Fucking masochist, I swear.”

Orym laughed. “Maybe a little. You like it.”

Ashton slipped out of him. “Do you hear me complaining?” They repositioned themselves, lifting a still shaky Orym and rising to their knees behind him. “Ready?” They nipped at Orym’s ear as they lined up behind him. Orym leaned forward on his elbows and grinned wickedly back at Ashton. Grinning back, Ashton drizzled a touch more oil into his entrance and thrust slowly back into Orym. From this angle, they could see the obscene stretch of Orym around their cock. They picked up the pace, quickly feeling the returning tension building. They gripped Orym’s hips, raising him to be in a better line and picked up the rhythm. Orym pushed his face into the mattress, crying out into the bedding. He was oversensitive but the slight pain added to the sweetness and he relished the pressure of being filled so completely.

Ashton chased their release, picking up the rhythm, feeling their balls slapping against Orym’s, watching the pull of his hole around their cock and the beautiful stretch of the man’s muscled back. Their hips snap forward, again and again. Their thrusts began to stutter and they groaned in relief and joy as they emptied into Orym.

They collapsed on top of Orym, still inside of him. They took care not to crush him entirely, but the sudden rush left them gasping for air. As their heart rate began to return to something closer to normal, they slowly slid out of Orym.

“Fuck, that was incredible. You are incredible. Holy shit,” gasped Ashton, flopping down next to Orym. He grinned back at them, eyelids heavy already.

“Hey I know I complained about sharing a bed earlier, but this one is pretty disgusting now. Want to share the other one?”

Ashton laughed. They rose out of the bed, finding a clean cloth and splashing fresh water onto it. They cleaned themselves off, then sat next to Orym and wiped him down too. They gave the halfling a hand and hauled him to his feet. The pair staggered over to the other bed, crashing down onto the mattress. Orym barely managed to sling a blanket over them before the exhaustion took both of them.

Orym woke slowly. He luxuriated in the lethargy in his limbs, the deep ache that reminded him of the previous day’s activities. He smiled, curving his spine back to better fit the curl of the body behind him. For a moment he remembered a more familiar shape, warmer, softer, and his heart quieted. Orym acknowledged his old grief, but set it gently aside. Enjoy this, the echo of a familiar voice whispered in his mind. He curled his back into Ashton’s side for a minute longer, before quietly rising, his feet softly touching the wooden floor, and crept a little stiffly to the other bed.

The whirring of motor accompanied the 'awakening' of FCG at the end of the room. “Well howdy!” the little robot chirped, seeing Orym was up and pulling undergarments on. “How are you this fine morning, roomie?”

A loud groan erupted from the pile of blankets in the bed Orym had recently vacated. “NO!” came a muffled shout. “No! I can’t have two morning people in here with me. Absolutely not.”

“Mind if I take a look at how you’re healing?” FCG asked Orym, ignoring Ashton’s outburst, clearly used to it. He whirred over and began poking around Orym’s chest, looking closely at the pink scarring left from the previous day’s skirmish. Orym complied, catching Ashton’s bleary eye as the genasi stirred and faced them. He could feel Ashton’s eyes raking over his chest, enjoying the view and he smiled at them.

FCG prodded bruising that was peeking out from the waistband of Orym’s underwear. “Sorry I missed these yesterday! That battle really did a number on you!”

Ashton chuckled, recognizing the marks their fingers had left on Orym’s hips. “Yeah, you look like you really took a beating, Orym.”

Orym raised an eyebrow and grinned wryly. “I’ve had worse," he responded as Ashton shook his head, laughing silently. Turning back to FCG, "I’m alright, Letters. Thanks for checking, but I’m definitely doing better today. A bit stiff. Sore,” he added, determined to not react to the gleeful look on Ashton’s face, “but I’ll be fine. Thanks for letting me crash with you last night.”

“Any time, friend! I’ll head down and see if the others are up. I’ll order some coffee for y’all - I know Ashton is a lot nicer when they’ve had a cup.” The yellow robot wheeled out the door, closing it behind them.

Ashton groaned again as they rose up in the bed, feet coming to rest on the floor, resting their head in their hands and rubbing at bleary eyes. Orym paused, shirt in hand, to appreciate the strength visible in their shoulders and arms. The shattered shoulder held together with gold looked painful and beautiful in the morning light. He also didn’t mind that Ashton clearly didn’t have any concern about modesty, letting the blankets fall where they will. They grinned, “See something you like?”

Orym grinned. Any potential awkwardness from the morning drifted away. “Look, I’m not entirely sure how that happened, but it was great and I needed it. I wouldn’t mind revisiting it either.”

“Fantastic," Ashton replied, the grin growing even wider, "because I’m having many thoughts about it right now. Those tattoos, for instance, deserve more of my attention.”

Orym stepped towards Ashton, coming to stand between the genasi’s knees. He traced the shimmering edge of gold that radiated down from their shoulder across a pectoral. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said quietly. “When we first met you, all I could think about was what these felt like under my fingers. I’d like to hear how you got these.”

Orym could see a shadow cross their glimmering eyes and noted the shift in colors he could see in the slag glass in Ashton’s skull. “Later,” he added.

He reached up to grasp the back of Ashton’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. He lifted a knee onto Ashton’s thigh and used the leverage to pull himself up on a level with the genasi’s mouth. He felt their hands come to his waist, one arm snaking behind him to pull him closer to them. He deepened the kiss, opening up to Ashton’s probing tongue. Orym moved his hand up from their neck, brushing over the gemstone spikes of their hair.

“Sorry, not as nice to run your fingers through as yours,” murmured Ashton through their kisses.

“Actually, I was just thinking how they felt between my thighs,” Orym responded with a sly grin. He snorted through his nose as Ashton reacted fiercely, surging forward and pressing him passionately back into a kiss. Orym held on as they pushed him backward and off balance. He savored the hard strength of the genasi arms, so unfamiliar and welcoming against him. He brushed fingers over the smooth skin of Ashton’s jaw, memorizing the smoother, harder texture.

Just then a loud knock disrupted them. “Hey, word came from the Corsairs,” they heard Dorian call through the door. “There’s something else they think has crawled up from the Underdark and they asked if we could help. Good money in it for us. Are you up yet?”

“We are now,” called Ashton, in a voice that sounded remarkably as if they had just woken up and not spent the last ten minutes turning Orym’s mind to mush. “Down in a minute!”

They turned back to Orym, brushing short, sweet kisses where his neck met his shoulder. “I guess we’ll table this for later.”

“Probably for the best. I’m already going to struggle to not wince while I walk today.”

“Ugh,” Ashton groaned, grabbing a handful of ass. “Now I’m going to be watching all day, thinking about why you’ve got a very specific limp.”

Orym laughed, disengaging from their grasp and jumping down off the bed. The pair reluctantly got dressed. Orym revelled in the camaraderie that somehow developed between them. It wasn’t the heady rush of love that he had felt in the past, nor the desire to turn and run, leaving it as a one night thing.

He turned to face Ashton, remembering the conversation that led to this. “If this group is going to keep going, I will always be that shield for my friends. But let’s do a little planning so we can make the most of both of our abilities. No throwing my life away, right?”

“Damn right. You’re going to need to stick around a bit longer.” Ashton smiled, “I’ve got an idea..”

========

A couple of days later, the group uncovered a creature that had taken up residence in a darker corner of the Smolder Spire, preying on the lost and the poor of the city. For too long the unnoticed persons of the neighborhood had been thinning out until the Corsairs caught wind and got suspicious.

FCG was running ragged keeping the group conscious from this creature that was literally draining the life force from them. Dorian was on one knee, so pale and drawn that his blue skin looked nearly white, and laid a hand on Orym to bring him back up. Everything had moved so quickly. Orym wasn’t even sure what this thing was before it started dragging them all down. Only Fearne seemed immune or unbothered by the draining energy.

“Don’t look right at it,” Dorian told him as he came to. Orym shook off the memory of that ghastly visage that swam in his vision before he had passed out a moment ago.

“Orym, you good? Be ready!” Orym heard Ashton call out. He could see their green form swing around behind the creature. Orym didn’t rise, but knelt between the creature and Dorian. As it turned to draw strength from Dorian for daring to bring his bright life force near, Orym shoved his friend back, further out of reach, and Ashton imploded. Gravity shifted and dragged everything nearby with it. Towards Ashton. The genasi laughed defiantly as they swung out for the creature with their massive hammer. It turned to face them and struggled to maintain its place. Orym, on the other hand, gave in to the shift, not resisting the gravitational pull. Rather, he let Ashton drag him forward and ever closer to the dark figure between them. The creature moved to block Ashton’s swing, not noticing the recently recovered halfling sliding just beneath its gaze. Ashton’s hammer collided with the creature, knocking it sideways, right onto Orym’s outstretched sword. As Ashton’s gravity shift pulled Orym towards them, the creature didn’t stand a chance and was skewered through.

“Caught between a rock and a hard place,” laughed Ashton as the undead entity shrank into itself. They crushed its face under their hammer with a second swing just for good measure.

Orym rolled his eyes. “We’re not calling it that,” he said, still gasping for air after the ordeal. “But it worked.” He cracked a half smile, standing and patting Ashton on the hip, as that was about all he could reach from down here.

“What was that thing?” he heard Imogen call from several feet away, as her and the other ranged fighters finally felt safe to approach.

“I’m not sure. Feels like something that shouldn’t be here though, in the land of the living.” Orym kicked the creature over, noticing a symbol carved into its chest. “Anyone recognize that?”

Laudna nodded grimly. “Yes. Let’s get out of here. If there are more like it, we won’t survive it. We’ll have to warn the Corsairs if Orcus has his eyes on Jrusar. This is more than we can handle.”

Imogen’s eyes widened at the name. The rest were all too worn out to respond, so they left the body for the Wardens to discover and do something about and made their slow way back to the Spire by Fire.

======

“I’m going to run upstairs and change into something less… bloody,” Orym told Fearne as they entered the pub. “Get me an ale?”

“Good call,” Ashton said from behind them. “Get me an entire fucking jug,” he added to Fearne, tossing her some coin.

The two set off up the stairs, followed by Dorian who also was looking far more of a mess than his usual pristine self preferred. Dorian peeled off to his room first with a tired wave. “See you down there in a minute.”

Ashton and Orym stepped into their room, closing the door behind. Orym took in the room. It was truly astonishing how Ashton had managed to bring so much of their stuff from the Krook House to this space in just a few days. And it was everywhere. Only the neat corner around Orym’s bed demonstrated any sense of order. He sighed and began undoing the buckles on his bracers. Ashton struggled out of their knotwork of a leather jacket and grabbed one of the towels off the rung by the basin. They wet it and ran it gruffly over their face and upper body, cleaning off the sweat and grime from the fight.

Orym’s armor was a bit more complicated. “A hand?” he asked.

Ashton grinned. “Getting you undressed? Absofuckinglutely.”

“Not what I…” Orym began, trailing off as he realized the futility of arguing the point. With Ashton’s aid, Orym got the last of his armor off and began cleaning it of any sweat, dirt and blood. Stacking items neatly at the foot of the bed, he finally turned to his own needs. Ashton lounged in his bed shirtless. They grinned as they caught him looking.

“That was fucking awesome. You, on your knees sliding towards me with that lethal fucking blade. Fuck, it was hot.”

Orym met their gaze. “How could you have possibly been watching? You were halfway to splitting its skull.”

Ashton shrugged. They swung their long legs off the bed, making their way to Orym in a few strides. Before they could get to him, Orym sprung up onto the bed, putting him at a height with them and let them crash into him.

They kissed like they were still fighting. Mouths crushed and tongues intertwined, pressing back and forth and around in their own maneuvers. Orym could scarcely breathe with the full strength of Ashton’s arms around him. He could feel the skin of Ashton’s smooth chest cool against his, refreshing and calming as his own skin felt on fire under the genasi's touch. He broke from the kiss, gasping, and began crushing kisses along their jaw, nibbling along the sharp line of it until he reached the delicate ear. He smiled at the sharp intake of breath as his teeth grasped the much softer lobe and he ran his tongue along the delicate arch.

Ashton’s hands reached down and grabbed Orym’s ass, grinding against him. He let out a low moan as he ground his hardening cock into their abs. He let his head fall back as Ashton’s mouth made its way along his clavicle. He opened his eyes and caught sight of the slag glass and just underneath thought he could see a rainbow of shimmering colors shifting wildly beneath.

The genasi pulled back for a moment and Orym keened quietly from the loss before he felt Ashton’s hands pulling at the ties on his waist. they swiftly untied them, yanking Orym’s pants down and he kicked them the rest of the way off. They grabbed at his hips, staring hungrily at Orym’s erection. He felt it throb and twitch as he felt Ashton’s thumb sweep circles along his hip. “Can I lift you up?” Ashton asked in a low voice, not taking their eyes off the pale body before them, so soft and strong and incredibly sexy. “Or do you prefer the bed?”

Orym desperately wanted to get close to the man again, but paused in appreciation. He didn’t expect the barbarian to find the restraint to be considerate of a halfling’s potential hang-ups. He normally didn’t like being lifted as if he were a child, but he certainly wasn’t opposed to being manhandled for a good cause and he told them so.

With that, Ashton swept in again, gripping Orym’s hips. Orym let their strong arms take his weight and wrapped his legs around Ashton’s midsection. Ashton swung around, crashing Orym into the wall. He hooked a muscled arm under Orym’s thigh and lifted. He loosened his grip enough to be lifted and pressed against the wall, thighs now pressed up against and over the genasi’s shoulders, spread wide on either side of their head, and with his cock reaching so close to those dark green lips.

Ashton glanced up to Orym’s face now above him, nearly touching the low ceiling. Orym looked into the mismatched eyes boring into him. He gripped his legs tighter, drawing his hips up and nudging the tip of his dick against their swollen lower lip. He may not love being carried, but looking down on this gorgeous wrecked face? He was definitely into this.

With his legs to hold him there, Ashton gripped Orym’s ass from underneath and freed the other hand to unbutton their straining leather pants. They sighed with relief as their cock sprung free and Orym twitched as their exhale breezed over him. Ashton resumed the pace, licking a long stripe up the underside of Orym’s cock while taking their own in hand. They wrapped their lips around the head of his cock and sucked. Orym watched their cheeks hollow as they fully encompassed his length. It was perfect, the tip of his cock just brushing the back of their mouth as they took all of him in.

They began bobbing their head, swiping their tongue around the tip, teasing the slit there before sinking back down. Orym used his legs to thrust himself in time with Ashton’s rhythm. He could hear the sound of their hand at work on their own cock picking up pace. Orym grabbed onto the spikes of their head. He could feel them digging into his flesh, leaving small scratches. Ashton glanced up and at the sight of the debauched halfling writhing against them, moaned deep in their throat. Orym could feel the reverberations of their voice like lightning up his cock and up his spine. He was quickly becoming undone, now heedless of the sharpness of their gemstone hair or his own increasingly loud moans. Ashton was no longer finding time to swallow excess saliva and the wetness of their mouth felt like heaven. Their hand that supported Orym under his ass and thigh gripped tighter, no doubt leaving new bruises.

Orym could feel the building tension come barreling down at him. He gasped a warning, but Ashton kept up the frantic pace, sucking their cheeks hollow yet again and Orym came, thrusting into their mouth again and again. He curled his body over Ashton’s head, ignoring the shards of hair marking points in his chest as the last spurt of his seed was swallowed down. Orym’s heartbeat was thunderous in his ears and he gulped down air. He felt Ashton’s head dig forward into him again as the thrashing sound of their hand on their cock reached a crescendo and they came with a cry, spilling onto the wall under Orym.

They held there for a moment, though Ashton’s grip on Orym relaxed somewhat as they let Orym's cock slip free of their mouth, and relied on their weight against him and whatever strength was left in Orym’s legs to hold him there. Orym’s mind was blissfully clear of the stress of that day’s encounter. He watched the slag in Ashton calm as well, resting to a pale shimmering as the genasi came down from their orgasm. Orym unhooked one leg from Ashton’s shoulder, shakily letting himself down. They took a moment, the two of them leaning against the wall side by side before Orym trusted his knees enough to carry him back to his collection of clothing, grabbing clean items to put on.

“This can’t become an after battle thing,” Orym heard from behind him. “I’m going to get a hard-on every time I’m meant to be smashing something’s head in.”

Orym let a rare laugh burst out of him. “Come on, we’ve already been gone too long.”

They both got dressed with more urgency and rejoined the group downstairs.

“What took you so long?” Fearne asked innocently, or at least Orym thought it might be innocently, from across the table.

“Oh, just dealing with some scrapes from that creature.”

He sat down next to Imogen, catching Ashton’s grin as they grabbed a spot further down the table. She gasped and grabbed his hand, turning his palm up. “What happened?”

Ashton laughed and chimed in. “Did you miss it when he ate it on the gravel when that thing sent that death glare at him? It was fucking great.” Waiting just a moment longer until eyes moved away from them, Orym caught Ashton sending a fleeting wink his way. He raised a mug of ale to his lips to hide the growing smile on his face and drank deep.

Several days later the group were sniffing around the lower sections of Jrusar for further whispers of undeath, areas locals were avoiding for some reason or another, unexpected people gone missing. The Corsairs had sent them to sniff out any further signs of creatures like the one they had encountered in the Smolder Spire, but so far they had found nothing.

Orym caught sight of Ashton trying to loosen a cobblestone with the toe of their boot while the more talkative folks interviewed yet another local shopkeep. He stepped up to them, gently knocking their foot away before they could pry another stone loose. Ashton tensed, gripping the handle of their hammer before their eyes settled on Orym. Orym leveled a stare at them.

“What?” Ashton asked aggressively.

Orym raised a hand appeasingly. “I just wanted to say you’ve been a lot of help with this,” Orym said quietly enough that the others wouldn’t overhear.

Ashton scoffed.

“Yeah, well we can’t be smashing skulls every day,” Orym sighed, a little regrettably. “At least you know this city.” Orym’s eyes scanned the streets again, hoping to have some contribution to this situation.

“I would rather being doing something, you know?”

“Yeah. I know,” Orym set his hand over Ashton’s on their hammer. He could feel the radiating tension in their body, the need to hit something, to unleash. Begging to let go and lose control. And he had an idea.

=======

Orym quietly suggested that FCG escort Laudna and Imogen home and stay with them for the evening to give Ashton some space. “I can stay with Fearne and Dorian. I think Ashton just needs a break from the crowd of us. I get the feeling this is more people-time than they’re used to.”

An hour later, Ashton lounged on their bed, arms and legs crossed, watching Orym with a bemused look. The halfling was taking all of their shit and shoving it under their bed. He hauled the small table to the corner and stuffed the chair under it. When enough room had been cleared, he turned and looked at them with his hands on his hips. “Now take all that off,” he gestured towards them.

Ashton raised an eyebrow. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

Orym took off his boots, placing them neatly under his bed, then stripped off his shirt. He turned to Ashton in just his pants. “You wanted to fight.”

Ashton glanced to the sword Orym had left hanging by the door. “No weapons?”

“Nope. If you can pin me, you can fuck me.”

Ashton’s eyes bugged out at that.

“Or, if I win..” Orym trailed off with a grin that was a challenge.

They quickly got to work unbuckling their leather jacket, then tore off their boots, scattering them to a corner. Orym rolled his eyes and then smiled at the enthusiasm he hadn’t seen in Ashton in the last few days.

“I’m twice your size, man. How the hell are you going to pin me? You’re mean with a sword, don’t get me wrong. But weight is weight.” Ashton asked, wriggling out of their undershirt.

Orym merely crossed his arms in response. Ashton’s gaze tore over the finely toned muscle of the halfling fighter’s chest, the quiet strength in his stance. He was confident he would win, Ashton realized.

“You’re mean with a hammer,” Orym responded. “But you haven’t trained for a day in your life. You think I’m any good in battle against things four times my size without having had a bit of practice at this?” Orym raised an eyebrow at Ashton and saw them consider him as an opponent. Assessing him. Many had judged him incorrectly before. Ashton would learn soon enough if they underestimated him. After a long look, Ashton grinned. “I’ve seen you in action. I have an idea of your skills, Orym. I’ve also seen you ride my dick like a goddamn champion and can’t wait to do that again, so I have a bit of incentive to win here.”

“And if I win?” Orym asked. “Are you good with switching?”

“If you win, I want you to absolutely wreck me,” Ashton said, jutting their chin out and grinning in anticipation of a challenge.

“Deal,” said Orym with a wicked grin. And then he leapt.

Ashton wasn’t entirely caught off guard. They bent their knees for the impact as Orym collided with them. But before they could grab hold of the halfling and use their strength to their advantage, the fighter kicked into their hip joint, pinching the nerve that ran just inside the hip along the groin and Ashton groaned. Orym then launched himself under their outstretched arm. Before Ashton could react, Orym had yanked their arm back, levering their shoulder forward, then dropping down to the back of one knee, taking them both down. Ashton’s knees hit the wood floor with a crack.

For several minutes, the pair wrestled. Several times, Ashton managed to use their strength to pull Orym out of his fancier maneuvers. Orym also discovered he needed to hit a lot harder to push on those sensitive points of the body that would bring down a softer opponent. But Orym was a slippery motherfucker and Ashton could not keep him pinned for long. Especially if they were both on the ground, where Ashton’s height and weight was less useful and more clumsy.

At last, Orym coaxed Ashton into a sloppy swing and he could grasp the wrist, slipping with it behind their back. With the arm twisted behind them, Orym slammed the genasi to the ground, holding the arm back with the right leverage that no matter their strength, Ashton couldn’t break loose without doing some serious damage to their shoulder. He held them there, panting and sweating, waiting. Ashton heaved some deep breaths, worn out and throbbing from some well placed hits before a wide grin split their face. They looked back at Orym behind them, then tapped the floor twice in concession.

Orym released Ashton’s wrist, but stayed perched on their back. His toes dug into their hips where he was pinning them to the hardwood floor. He slid his hand along the slick, marble smooth back of the barbarian, coursing over the ridges of the golden scars. Their muscles were taut after their fight and Orym’s fingers ran appreciatively over the definition. As his hands slid up the long length of their back, he leaned forward until his lips were a breath away from the genasi’s ear. “I win,” he whispered, then traced his tongue slowly along the soft ridge of their ear, feeling them take a shuddering breath under him.

Already Ashton’s body was releasing the tension of the last few unproductive days. “Good,” Orym murmured as he felt those knotted muscles loosen a fraction. He traced kisses along their neck to where it met the strong curve of the shoulder. There he laved his tongue with more pressure, using his teeth to feel the thick skin give way to him.

“Use me,” Ashton whispered, almost too quietly for Orym’s sharp ears to catch. Orym was already growing hard as he pressed down atop Ashton and at Ashton’s request, he couldn’t help but grind down a bit into their back in response.

He lifted off of Ashton long enough to undo and remove his pants and the oil he had recently restocked. Crouching next to Ashton, he ran his hands along the bare skin of their back before slipping fingers under the waistband of their pants. Ashton lifted their hips to unbutton the pants and Orym continued to slide his hands over their round ass, dragging the clothing down as he went. He walked alongside the long length of their legs, removing their remaining clothing and admired them stretched out on their stomach in front of him. Kneeling between their legs, he ran hands up the backs, his thumbs teasing the softer skin of their inner thighs. Orym grasped their strong buttocks, slowly prying them apart enough to see their puckered rim. They were already leaning back into his touch, fluttering open a bit, begging Orym to touch them there.

Orym slicked two of his fingers with oil. Poising one at their entrance, he paused, glancing up to Ashton’s face. “You good?”

“Fucking fuck me Orym,” groaned Ashton. They were grasping the back of their neck, their shards of hair, desperate for contact. They let out a loud sighing moan as Orym slid his first slim finger in. Slicking the rim with the oil, Orym soon added the second. He pumped his fingers slowly, getting progressively deeper with each thrust. The thumb of his other hand pressed slow circles on the skin between his pumping fingers and their balls. Ashton’s hips lifted, making space for their increasingly hard cock under them and Orym obligingly slid one hand forward to run teasing fingers up the length of them.

Orym slicked and added a third finger, smiling at the moan Ashton tried to muffle with their forearm. For a moment, he drank in the view. His fingers pushing deeper inside the firm, perfect ass. The long, strong muscles of their back. Ashton biting into their arm and running a hand over their hair as they writhed under his ministrations. As Orym spread his fingers, stretching them further, he watched every flicker of movement in their face and relished every hitch in their breath.

Ashton snuck a hand down to palm themselves. Orym summoned a bit of druidcraft to whip a vine around their wrist, pulling it back before they could find purchase on their cock. Ashton’s head snapped up in surprise. “Not until I say you can,” Orym said in a low voice.

Ashton’s eyes widened at the impossibly sexy halfling behind them. “I don’t take orders very well,” they challenged.

Orym’s fingers stopped, then withdrew. Ashton let out a small cry at the loss. They watched as Orym stood, wiping his fingers on a cloth and collecting something they couldn’t see from his bag. “Then you won’t be coming tonight, Ashton. I will take what I want and only then, if you can be good, you will get your release,” Orym said calmly. His back to Ashton, he slicked the plug he had pulled from his pack. He turned back to the genasi.

“What is that?” Ashton asked.

Orym stepped behind the genasi again, crouching and spreading their cheeks again. “A toy of mine,” he said as he pressed the glass tip to Ashton’s hole. They gasped at the cool, unfamiliar touch. Slowly, Orym pressed it further. Ashton groaned as the thickest part stretched their rim wider, then settled into place.

Ashton turned over to their back when Orym nudged him over, admiring the sweat-slicked body above them. They grabbed their balled up jacket and tucked it under their head, shifting their hips a little at the foreign feeling of the plug inside them.

“Sometimes,” Orym said in a low voice, running his fingers up Ashton’s smooth stomach, “when we’re having drinks downstairs, I’ll sneak up here for a moment. Pop that in. And come back down to the group.”

Orym smiled at the look on Ashton’s face. He straddled their waist and began running his hands up their abs, then tracing gentle circles around their nipples. Ashton sucked in a breath, looking like they genuinely didn’t know how they got to be here, under him, teased by him like this. “I’ll sit down on the bench next to you,” Orym continued, flicking a nipple, then smoothing over it with his thumb. “And remember what your cock felt like inside me. I’ll squirm and feel that shift inside me.” He paused as he felt Ashton squirm under him, “and continue carrying on my conversation with our friends.”

He leaned down and licked the a nipple, his hands running over Ashton’s ribcage, which trembled just a little under his fingertips. “And then we’ll come back upstairs. FCG will power down and I’ll wait for you to drift off.” His teeth scraped the peak of the now hardened nipple. “When your breathing has slowed and I can see the curve of your ass under your blanket, I will pull it out of me and fuck myself with it.” At that Ashton lost the little control they had gathered and grabbed Orym hard by the ass, pushing him up to get their lips on that unexpectedly filthy mouth.

Orym let himself be swept away by the passion in that kiss, opening his mouth wide for Ashton as they threatened to devour him. Ashton slid their hand to the fighter’s front, spreading a palm across their chest, grasping at a firm pectoral, raking nails through the light hair along his chest, then tracing their thumb down, down that happy trail to his erect cock. One hand still on his ass, the other wrapped around the aching length of Orym between them. Orym groaned into their mouth, pushing his hips into their grasp as they tightened their grip, desperately trying to get closer.

The halfling broke the kiss, gasping, pressing Ashton back down to the ground. Ashton was taking deep heaving breaths and asked incredulously, “Where the fuck did you come from? When we met I thought you were some straight-laced fucking soldier type. It’s always the quiet ones...”

Orym let out a breathy laugh. “Maybe you inspire me to be a little reckless. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much fun.” He wriggled forward on their chest. Ashton’s eyes gleamed, grasping Orym’s ass and helping him lift up and settle with his knees on either side of their head. They ran their hands up his back, turning their head to press kisses to his inner thigh. Orym lifted up, bringing his cock to Ashton’s face. They held Orym’s gaze as Orym nudged the tip against their smiling lips, drawing the full lower lip down. Their tongue snaked forward to meet it, gently swirling the tip. Orym’s gaze bore into their crystalline eyes. Holding the stare, Orym shifted his hips slowly forward, pushing past the swollen lips and into the wet warmth of Ashton’s mouth. Only then did his eyes flutter shut and a quiet moan escaped him as he withdrew and pushed back in, again and again.

Orym slowly fucked their mouth, nearly losing themselves again in that swirling of tongue, the sharp points of the hair on one hand as he pulled their mouth onto himself. Ashton’s moan gave them away and Orym’s head whipped round to see Ashton hand had left Orym’s hip to wrap around their cock to ease the ache of it.

Before Ashton could look ashamed of getting caught, Orym had withdrawn from their mouth, stood and rolled them onto their front. “Fuck!” was all Ashton got out before more druidcrafted vines whipped around their wrists, tying them behind their back.

“And what did I tell you?” Orym said in a voice that reminded Ashton just how deadly this small man could be.

“Not to… fuckfuckfuck… touch. Until you said,” Ashton nearly whimpered, which was a new experience for them. They didn’t often resort to begging but they were coming close. “I’m so fucking hard it hurts, Orym.”

Orym turned their face to his. “Do you want out?” he asked softly. “Just say so, and I’ll stop.”

There was a pause and Orym watched several thoughts flicker behind those mismatched eyes. He waited.

“No,” whispered Ashton. “Please. I want you to use me.”

Orym smiled, not unkindly. He pressed a kiss to their temple, just under that flickering slag glass. “Good. On your knees.” And he hauled back on the vines entangling Ashton’s wrist until they had rocked back, sitting on their heels, face pressed back to the floor. “Beautiful,” whispered Orym at the sight of their strong body succumbing to him, their thighs spread wide, waiting for him.

Orym wrapped his fingers around the end of the plug that sat snugly in Ashton’s ass. Slowly, he pulled it out and Ashton hissed with the slight burn as it widened them out a bit once more. Orym grabbed the oil and drizzled some in his hand, which he spread generously on his cock and along the rim of Ashton’s opening.

He lined up his cock to Ashton’s entrance and pressed slowly in. He heard the sharp intake of Ashton’s breath as they felt the tip press past their rim. As a halfling, Orym knew Ashton was safely stretched for his size and he continued to push in, savoring the firmness of the earth genasi around his cock. The slickness of the oil and the slightly cooler temperature sent shivers up Orym’s spine as he seated himself fully inside them. He paused for a moment, breathing to calm his thundering pulse until Ashton pressed back against him, silently begging for more movement.

Orym pulled back slowly. He enjoyed the gasp from Ashton as he nearly left them empty again and teased their hole gently a few times with the tip. “Fucking tease,” Ashton groaned.

Orym ran an appreciative hand over their thick ass, then grabbed the vines on Ashton’s wrists. He snapped his hips forward, pressing deep and hard, using the vines as leverage as he thrust relentlessly. The gemstone of Ashton’s hair scraped the wooden floor as Orym struck a merciless pace. His breath became ragged as he yanked on the vines, pulling Ashton back onto his cock while he thrust. He could hear Ashton’s cries, still untouched beneath him, but ignored them for now as he chased his orgasm. The tension grew, an ache deep in his core and a lightning building in his skull until he felt himself shatter and let out a cry of release. He pumped more sporadically as he spilled inside of Ashton, slowing to a juddering halt as he emptied.

Orym released Ashton’s vines, letting their wrists free. He half collapsed over that beautiful ass while Ashton’s arms moved to cushion their head. As he came down, he praised Ashton for waiting, even as Ashton’s fists clenched and unclenched, taking all of their effort not to finish themselves off with their hand immediately.

He withdrew his softening cock and set a hand to Ashton’s side to draw them up. As they sat up, Orym wrapped his arms around their chest, holding him close and laying kisses along their throat. “Up on the bed. I think you’ve earned some attention,” he murmured into their ear as he nibbled it one last time before releasing them.

Ashton crawled to the bed and sprawled out. They looked absolutely wrecked but their penis jutted out, twitching with a desperate need to be touched. Orym joined them, kneeling between their sprawled legs. He ran a hand along a dark green thigh, a thumb tracing the line where the leg met their hip. He admired the fucked out expression on their face.

As the hand reached their cock, Ashton arched their back with a cry at finally receiving the contact they needed. Meanwhile, Orym’s other hand pressed their thighs up, exposing that well oiled and now leaking hole. He immediately fit three fingers in, pressing up while the hand on their cock slid down and Ashton keened. Their eyes were scrunched closed and their fists curled in the sheets and Orym thought it had been a long time since he had seen a sight as wonderful as this. Gently, he added a fourth finger and Ashton’s mouth gaped wide, gasping for air. “I’ve got you,” Orym crooned, slowly stroking their cock to distract them while they adjusted to his fingers.

Orym began thrusting the fingers as Ashton’s breath became uneven. He slid his hand up the long length of them. He leaned forward to tease the leaking tip with his tongue and Ashton nearly came undone at that. As Orym pressed more, Ashton’s rim adjusted to fit the thickest part of his hand. He glanced up, waiting for Ashton, continuing the gentle teasing with his tongue. Eventually they opened their eyes. Orym pressed their taint with his thumb and Ashton’s eyes widened, realizing what he intended. Orym grinned wickedly, sliding the thumb alongside the fingers, maintaining the smooth stroke on their cock. Ashton winced a bit with the stretch but their eyes, the clear one nearly black now, watched Orym in shock as, slowly, the halfling slid the entirety of his hand into them, inch by slow inch.

“Fucking beautiful, Ashton. Look at you,” Orym whispered, as his fist rocked gently inside of them. “Come for me. You’ve earned it.” And Orym curled his wrist, making sure that his knuckles dragged on that spot inside him and he moved his hand rhythmically inside them. Ashton’s hand flew to their cock, taking over pumping their length. Their hand moved quickly, chasing the climax they had been on the edge of for so long. Orym continued to push, repeatedly hitting that knot of nerves until he could feel the tensing of them. The pulsing movement of their stomach muscles contracted as their hand worked that extraordinary cock and Ashton let out a cry that Orym would be dreaming about as all of them tensed in and then exploded out.

Orym slowed the rhythm of his hand, coming to a stop once Ashton was completely spent. As gently as he could, he began to slip his hand out of the now more relaxed Ashton. He moved to the basin to clean off his oiled hand, then grabbed a clean towel and returned to the bed. Gently, he cleared the oil from Ashton, as well as the ropes of white that spattered their green and gold chest, which still heaved with deep breaths. He stretched his body alongside Ashton’s chest, laying gentle kisses along their neck and jaw. When Ashton seemed to finally come to, he met their eyes and smiled, laying a final kiss on their full mouth.

Ashton seemed at a loss for words, but they responded with another kiss, more firm this time. Their eyes sparkled, the misted white one shining as the darker raked across Orym’s face, and they smiled so wide it looked to split their face.

“I told the others you needed a night alone. I should go sleep in the other room,” whispered Orym.

“Fuck that. You’re not going anywhere,” Ashton responded, wrapping his arms around the brilliant little man, clutching him to their chest. Satisfied and deeply relieved, the two let their exhaustion take them swiftly to rest.

The next morning the two rose with little urgency. The last few fruitless days had been dragging on the crew and they had some loose plans for certain neighborhoods in the Smolder Spire to check, but were in no hurry to get moving.

Orym stirred first. Although it had been many months since he left Zephra, his old routine still stuck with him enough to wake to a sunrise even if there was no one calling him to his post. This was the second time he had woken up in Ashton’s bed and although they had been sharing the room for a while now, it was certainly feeling strange to be on this side of the room sharing the thin bed with the bulkier genasi.

He quietly slipped out from under the blankets. Ashton shifted, pulling blankets around themselves to compensate for the loss of the warm halfling at their side, but did not wake. Knowing they weren’t a morning person, Orym got dressed without disturbing them and made his way downstairs.

Orym glanced around the tavern as he descended the last set of stairs and spotted Fearne at a table tearing pieces of bread and alternating between feeding Mister and having him toast slices for her.

“Can I get one of those?” Orym asked as he joined her.

“Sure,” Fearne chirped in her accommodating manner, sliding over toast and a few pieces of the bacon still on her plate. “You’re up early.”

“I’m always up early,” Orym retorted.

“Well, sure, but I thought you might be tired today.”

Orym raised an eyebrow, sensing what Fearne might be fishing for. “Not any more so than usual.”

Fearne pressed on. “I thought you might be tired because it sounded like you’ve been up to some strenuous activity.” Fearne gave him that smile that certainly looked innocent but definitely wasn’t.

“Well sure, Ashton and I had a bit of a sparring session. Letting off steam. You know. It’s been a slow couple of days,” Orym dissembled.

“Mmhmm,” Fearne responded. “I know plenty of people who spar going...” and she let out a moan that was eerily accurate to the sound Ashton made when they came. Several eyes turned to the pair, especially when Mister began screeching along with Fearne. Orym could feel his ears turning red, but he managed to school his face.

“We were training, Fearne. This is an inn, there are plenty of sounds like that from our neighbors.” Orym held her gaze until she sat back with a shrug.

“Well someone was giving Ashton the time of their lives. But sure, I believe you, Orym.”

Orym took a large bite of his toast, shaking his head with a smile. Dorian eventually joined them and another round of breakfasts was ordered. They chatted amicably about their recent adventures, wondering what Dariax and Opal might be up to, and worked their way through a pot of tea. Eventually, Orym caught sight of Ashton coming down the stairs. With some effort, he managed to keep his eyes on Dorian and willfully ignored the rather stiff gait Ashton was trying to cover.

He also ignored the wicked grin Fearne was giving him when she noticed.

Wood scraped as Ashton dragged back a chair and unceremoniously dropped into it. “Coffee,” they grumbled, dropping their head onto folded arms on the table.

“Good morning to you too, Ashton,” said Dorian in a chipper voice that Ashton wordlessly objected to.

The rest of the team gradually found their way to the tavern to plan their day over a round of coffees and teas. Orym took in the way the group talked all at once, maintaining several conversations simultaneously, bemused by the cacophony that eventually led to a decision being made.

The crew made their way back to the Smolder Spire, combing through poorer areas of town for rumor of disappearances or disturbances. Imogen and Dorian were speaking to a food vendor selling out of a wheeled cart when Orym noticed two small shapes limping down the adjacent alley. He tapped Ashton’s side, pointing them out.

“Letters, come with us,” Orym said and gestured to the rest to stay with the food cart. As they approached, they could make out that the pair were two thin children, an older boy with his arm around a younger girl. They looked a little banged up, so the group moved cautiously, demonstrating that they were unthreatening. Ashton dropped a hand on Orym’s shoulder. “Let me take this.” Orym looked up in surprise, but stayed back a step with FCG as Ashton walked up to the kids. The kids tensed and looked ready to run, but stilled as Ashton put their hands up, a coin between two of their fingers. They tossed it to the boy, who snatched it out of the air with nimble fingers.

“Hey, just want to talk. There’s more where that came from if you can help me and my friends with some questions we have about weird things going on around here. Nothing personal about you if you don’t want, got it?” Ashton said in a casual voice.

The boy looked at the silver piece and tucked it into a ragged jacket pocket. He nodded, not moving from the girl’s side.

“I’ve also got this cool ass robot friend that can heal, if you’re interested,” Ashton added.

FCG waved their arm. “Howdy! Shiny day to ya!”

The kids eyes widened with surprise and interest.

“My sister got hurt,” the boy said in a quiet voice. “Can you really heal? I’ll talk if you can help her.”

“FCG will heal her even if you don’t talk,” Ashton responded. “But there’s been some weird shit going on lately and maybe you’ve seen some of it? I take it you live a little rough? See things maybe the high people in their towers don’t know are hiding down below in this town?”

The boy nodded. Ashton squatted, sitting on the large hammer head as FCG rolled up to the girl’s side.

“People have been going missing,” Orym spoke in his low, quiet tone. “People the authorities maybe wouldn’t notice. Or people who found something scary hiding down here. That sound like something you know about?”

Over the next few minutes, the kids told them about the boarded up shop that they had been living in. The boy had turned it into a safe haven for them and was doing his best to care for his little sister. After coming home the previous night, they found the place a wreck. When they tried to clean it up, several of the household items came to life and attacked them. He showed them cuts on his arms that he had wrapped cloth around. “I tried to stop them from getting to Anna, but there were a lot of them. Flying knives and stuff! We ran, but we don’t have anywhere to go.”

FCG reached out to the boy’s arm, shining a healing light on the scabbing wound. “Well that’s a mighty brave thing you did for your sister, friend.”

“Fucking inanimate things coming to life,” Orym heard Ashton mutter under their breath. “Not a-fucking-gain.”

“Would you show us where this place is?” Orym asked once the kids were healed up. “You don’t have to go in or anything, but we can probably clean out those things for you. We’ve fought stuff like that before.”

The girl piped up, “You have? With that sword?” She pointed at the hilt of Orym’s sword poking up over his shoulder.

Orym smiled at her. “Yes, with this sword. And that hammer.” He pointed to Ashton. “They really like hitting stuff with that hammer.”

The children stood, looking more steady on their feet thanks to Fresh Cut Grass’ help, and followed them to the rest of the group. Upon seeing Laudna, Anna hid herself behind her brother, who put on a brave face and held out a trembling hand to shake hers, which of course absolutely delighted Laudna.

He led the group a few blocks down to a corner shop with boarded up windows and a door that hung a little loose on its hinges. Before they entered the building, Ashton knelt in front of the kids. “Hey, thanks for your help. We’ll clear this place out and it might be safe, but I know of a place that might be better for you. It’s called the Krook House and it’s run by my friend Milo. Milo is good people and that’s hard to come by in a place like this. You tell them that Ashton sent you and they’ll make sure to get you a good room with a proper door that locks the weirdos out. Alright?” And Ashton pressed a handful of gold into the boy’s hand. His eyes bugged out a bit, probably never having had that much money at once, and listened attentively to Ashton’s directions to the house.

Orym watched as the pair headed back out to the street, waving back as the young girl turned to wave a cheerful goodbye. He stepped up to where Ashton was kneeling, putting a hand on their shoulder. They gave the kids their winning smile, but Orym noticed it was a little forced.

“This fucking city. The Quorum sits up there on their mountain of guild money and can’t even care for the fucking kids of this city,” Ashton cursed. “Act like we don’t fucking exist if we’re lower down on the spire than them.” Orym tightened his grip, then let go as Ashton stood. “Anyway, let’s smash more animated fucking tables or whatever.”

====

The group made short work of the dangerous items. They tore through the place, trying to determine what made this place in particular come to life in that way. Finally Chetney wedged a knife into an edge of a bookshelf, revealing that it was blocking an archway into another chamber. There they found the residue of a summoning circle.

“Think that’s how that creature we fought earlier came through?” Imogen asked. “Or was this for something else?”

Laudna inspected the runes. “I’m not sure exactly what they were summoning, but definitely something fiendish,” she said, tracing the outline of one rune in particular with a long finger. “It could be that life-draining thing. Or something new.”

“Greeaat,” Dorian groaned. “Just what we need. Something new.”

====

They agreed the Soot n Swill was the best option, seeing as it was significantly closer and no one felt like bleeding out on the slow ride between spires. Orym nudged Ashton and slowed his pace until the two were a few meters behind the group.

“Hey, you alright? It seems like those kids got to you.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Smashing biting chairs to splinters helps,” Ashton said, one side of their mouth lifting in a smile.

“Orym, are you two alright?” he heard in his head.

“Yeah, Imogen, we’re fine. Go ahead, we’ll meet you all there in a bit,” Orym responded mentally.

“Like I said, it’s fucked up that people can just see kids on their own and ignore them and act like they’re nobodies,” Ashton said, kicking a piece of refuse aside.

“Yeah,” Orym responded quietly. He remembered Ashton’s group of friends called themselves the Nobodies but decided to give Ashton the space to bring it up or not.

They walked amicably for a while before Ashton finally broke the silence. “Does that shit happen where you’re from? Kids on the street and beggars in the alleys?”

“Taldorei? Sure. Emon has plenty of poverty and an underbelly of society and all that.”

“Emon? I thought you were from somewhere else. Ashari? No, wait, that’s what the people are called..”

Orym smiled softly. “Yeah, we’re a little different I guess. The Ashari people are more like a community than other places I’ve been. I’m from Zephra, but there are other cities of Ashari in Exandria. And there’s levels in our society, sure, but no one starves. That would be a failure of our community.”

Ashton ran a frustrated hand over their hair and stopped walking. Orym added, “Granted, our leader can just have food pop out of the ground whenever, so that makes it easier.” He paused. “I’m sorry that wasn’t your experience.”

Ashton huffed through their nose, then squatted with their back to a wall, leaning back to rest their head against the bricks. “It is a failure. I didn’t know places like that existed.”

Orym leaned back against the wall next to Ashton. Their eyes were of a height now. “It’s not a perfect place. But it was a pretty good place to grow up.”

“Fuck. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Not asking you to,” Orym responded quietly. They rested amicably against the wall for a minute. Orym felt Ashton leaning into his side. He reached down, tracing fingers along the genasi’s arm until they reached up and twined their fingers through his.

“I should warn you,” Orym said, looking at the alternating tan skin and emerald green fingers together. “Fearne mentioned overhearing something. She may tease a bit.”

“Well, it’s Fearne, I don’t know that others would make much of any comments. That woman has the best poker face I’ve ever seen and we’re sure as hell learning to take what she says with a grain of salt.” Ashton looked up at him. “Does it bother you? Others knowing.”

“No,” Orym answered. “Not really. I just... I’m a private person. They can know, I just don’t plan on talking about it with them, you know what I mean?”

Ashton smirked. “So you’re not planning on telling them that this limp isn’t from an evil chair but in fact comes from you absolutely wrecking me in bed?” They smiled wider at Orym’s laugh.

“Hey guys, sorry we weren't great in that fight. I was elbow deep in Ashton last night and I’m not sure they’re at their best today,” Orym joked. Ashton burst out in loud laughter, making Orym chuckle along with them.

“I see your point. That could be awkward.” Ashton turned on their heels, facing Orym. “Look, this doesn’t have to be a thing. We don’t need to have that talk. It’s fun and frankly you’re blowing my fucking mind and it’s awesome, but if things get weird, we’ll stop.”

Orym leaned in to place a soft kiss on the genasi’s lips. “Thanks. I’m rather enjoying whatever this is. I don’t want it to stop either. I’m definitely not ready for that talk though. I’m still… well it’s a long story, but I’m not ready for serious. I get the feeling you probably aren’t either.”

“Fuck, I don’t even know how to go about that shit.”

“Me either,” Orym lied, capturing Ashton’s mouth again.

“Hey, careful,” Ashton whispered, breaking off a lengthy kiss. “This is how the after-battle shit starts and I can’t go into that bar with a hard-on.”

Orym laughed again. He grabbed Ashton’s hand, pulling him around the corner that led behind the building. Crates blocked most of the little alley from view. Orym hopped up on one, dragging Ashton into him and wrapped his arms around their neck. They grinned, leaning in for another kiss, quickly melting into the warm open mouth and questing tongue of Orym.

Orym sighed happily as Ashton’s thick cool fingers wound up into his hair, brushing through the short length, then wandered along his jaw, the points of his ears, the line of his neck. He enjoyed being of an eye level with Ashton and crushed his chest into theirs, holding them close. Their hands drifted over the hard shell of Orym’s armor and found the soft curve of his ass, gripping him firmly and Orym felt his cock straining as it pressed against the buckles and straps of Ashton’s vest. He couldn’t reach Ashton’s dick from here, but he reached a foot out and traced the line of their inner thigh with his toes. His shin felt the hard line of their cock as it pressed against him.

Ashton groaned at the touch, leaning their forehead against his. “Shit, I haven’t been such a horny fucker since I was a kid.”

Desperate to touch them, Orym hopped down from the crate. Running his hands up the tightly strung thighs of the genasi, he palmed the outline of Ashton’s hard length through their pants.

“Fuck, Orym. This is a bad idea. We’re supposed to be joining the others.”

Orym worked at the buttons of Ashton’s pants with nimble fingers. “You’d better be quick, then,” he smiled up at them as their cock sprang free into Orym’s waiting hand.

“Fuuuuuck,” Ashton whispered as Orym wasted no time running a hot tongue up their length while his hand gripped the base.

Orym swiped his tongue along the underside of their hard length before taking the head into his mouth. He began bobbing his head, wrapping both hands around whatever he couldn’t fit in his mouth which was admittedly a fair share of it. As his jaw relaxed, he pushed deeper, the head of their dick tickling their soft palate and then further. It had been a while since he had fought a gag reflex in this way, but continued to push with each thrust down onto their length.

Ashton’s breath was unsteady above him as they wrapped their fingers loosely through his hair while the other was braced against the wall behind Orym. He could feel their fingers trembling on his skull, not pushing but following his movements. Orym’s hands slid easier now that he had the wetness of his mouth dripping down their length and he added slight twists to his motion, drawing a quiet groan from Ashton.

Orym’s jaw was beginning to ache but he was in heaven, relishing the salty, earthy taste of the genasi. Their skin was like nothing else, smooth and soft against his tongue. He continued to push, taking them deep, finally overcoming the initial urge to choke. He found a rhythm to his movements, the curling of his tongue when his head rocked back to the edge of Ashton, taking deep breaths through his nose before sinking down onto them. Something quieted in his mind as he worked Ashton with increasing speed. He could feel how Ashton twitched, heard the hitching in their breath and the warning. Coming off of them, he stepped aside, but continued the quick motions of his hands on their cock. One of their hands wrapped around his, squeezing tightly as Ashton shook and sucked in a breath. Orym’s hands slid over the pulsing length of them as they came with a shudder.

He leaned his head against their thigh as they regained their breath, tucking themselves away.

“Let’s get back,” Orym said in a raspy voice.

“Damn, Orym, know when to quit. You sound like you’ve wrecked your throat.”

Orym grinned slyly up at them. “When have you known me to give up on a challenge?”

Ashton laughed, his grin wide. “Can I do anything for you before we go?”

Orym reached a hand to his own cock, shifting it to a more comfortable position. “I’m fine,” he said in a whisper, not wanting to push his voice further just yet. “My tunic and armor cover it. It was you who couldn’t walk into a bar with a tent in those tight pants of yours.”

Ashton laughed again. “If you’re sure. I owe you one, though.”

Orym smiled. “I’ll take you up on that.”

Ashton is driving Orym crazy. He’s never seen anyone as fidgety as Ashton. And they were only two days into the trip.

After leaving word with the Corsairs about the summoning circle they discovered, the group had checked in with Eshteross. Their ally had heard rumors of similar cultist activity in a neighboring city that had been quashed years before. They group had set off through the Oderan Wilds to determine if the activity was related and how it was resolved. There was also the added benefit of being able to collect a few items for Eshteross for a sizable fee.

And so in short order, the group found themselves piled into the back of a rickety cart as it trudged through the jungle valleys of the Wilds.

Dorian, Fearne and Orym had easily settled down into the familiar slow rhythm of traveling by cart. They took turns at the rein. Dorian idly strummed an instrument while Fearne taught Mister little tricks. Orym tended to his armor and weaponry. Imogen, FCG and Laudna were also settling in, happily engaged in quiet conversation in the back of the cart. Chetney was carving something out of a small piece of wood and ignoring everyone.

Ashton, however, was thrumming. Orym was starting to worry about the way they were twisting the handle of that monstrous hammer and staring menacingly at the thin wood slats of the cart.

“Get out and walk, Ashton. Before you’re tempted to break something,” Orym said, trying to keep the tension from his voice. Ashton shot a glare at him.

“It’s so fucking boooring!” they complained loudly. They leaned back into a sprawl. Ashton's long legs stretched out, getting into everyone’s space.

Orym closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his calm. “It’s only been a couple of days. We have so much left to go.”

“I KNOW!” Ashton groaned in exasperation.

Chetney piped up. “You don’t travel much, do you, young man?”

“Yeah, sure, occasionally for a job or something. But usually there’s something to do, someone to talk to,” Ashton whined. Fearne gasped with a look of feigned offense, kicking their leg out of her space. They adjusted by propping their leg across the way, their boot landing with a thud next to Orym. They nudged Orym's side with their toe to annoy him.

“Look,” Orym sighed, lifting Ashton's ridiculously heavy boot off the bench. “Yes, it’s boring. Yes it takes a long time. You just need to find something to occupy yourself with in the meantime. Or find something to do with your hands other than picking splinters into the seat.”

Ashton gave him a glare that turned to a smirk. Orym knew instantly what thoughts were flashing under that shimmering glass in his skull and rolled his eyes before Ashton could even get out their “Got anything particular in mind for my hands, Orym?”

He shook his head, trying to suppress his smile. He pulled out a deck of cards from his pack and tossed it at them. “Shuffle.”

====

That night, the crew made camp by the road. Despite a seemingly idle day, everyone was fairly weary from the constant jarring of the cart and having to push it though a few muddy spots. Orym offered to take first watch, letting the rest of them sleep. The women stretched out on the floor and benches of the dry cart with FCG going into stasis in one corner. Chetney curled up on the driver’s seat. Dorian and Ashton were left to find the driest spot of earth they could.

Orym wrapped his blanket tightly around himself. It was generally pretty warm in Marquet compared to his home, but the cool humidity of the night air felt like it was seeping through his armor. It didn’t help that rumors of what lay in these parts sent chills down his spine as he kept a sharp ear tuned. The slowly burning campfire was down to red coals that crackled and popped. The now familiar sounds of the jungle whispered around them. Orym was getting used to the constant noise of the forest. It was when it got quiet that things were alarming.

He noticed Ashton fidgeting, unable to relax into slumber. Eventually they gave up and sat upright. They spotted Orym sitting on a log and trudged over to him.

“Travel fucking sucks. Like it's cool when you get somewhere, ” they grumbled, “but my ass hurts from sitting all day. I’m somehow both tired and too high strung to sleep. No matter where I put my bedroll, there are roots fucking everywhere.”

Orym snorted. “Yeah, I guess that stuff sucks. I think we should get to that wayfarer’s inn for tomorrow though. And I think it’s worth it, to get to see more of the world. There’s a lot more out there than I realized even a few months ago. Stories and books don’t do it justice,” he said quietly. He placed a hand on Ashton's bouncing knee next to his. “You get used to the other stuff.”

Ashton rested their hand over the small halfling one on their knee and sighed. They sat in comfortable silence for a time, alert to their surroundings.

Eventually Ashton spoke in a low voice. “I think you like the boring part. Sitting in a cart on the road all day. Doing fuck all.”

"You calling me boring, Ashton?" Orym laughed, then shrugged. “It’s pretty peaceful. Other problems kind of go away. It’s just you and your friends and the road. It was maybe prettier in Tal’Dorei or on the air ship because at least there was more of a view, but it’s nice.”

“Too much time to think,” Ashton countered.

“I find I spend less time thinking when I’m on the road - I’m just taking in the surroundings and my brain just goes… quiet.”

“Quiet,” Ashton sighed through their nose. They rubbed a hand over the slag glass in their skull, wincing. “What’s that like?”

Orym looked up at them. “Does it hurt? That glass?”

“Not usually. Like, it doesn’t bother me if you touch it or something. But sometimes I get these headaches that last for fucking hours. Like shards of it are pressing in and there’s too much light and sound. Even without that, it doesn’t often feel ‘quiet.’”

“But it does, sometimes? When?” Orym asked.

Ashton smirked. “Well you’ve shut my brain off pretty well in the past.” Orym smiled. “And fighting. When I let myself go in a fight, everything else goes quiet and it’s just me and some fucker that’s about to have a bad day.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Orym said. “I like the singular focus of it too.”

Ashton’s fingers clenched around Orym’s and he squeezed back.

After a moment’s silence, Ashton turned, swinging a leg over the log so they straddled it facing Orym. “I need to do something.”

Orym raised an eyebrow. “Ok?”

“You know, shut my brain up.” Ashton smiled suggestively.

“We can’t spar, we’ll wake everyone up,” Orym said, keeping his gaze intentionally out towards the forest.

“You’re being deliberately obtuse.”

“Maybe,” Orym said, unable to stop the corner of his mouth curling up into a smile. He paused. “I’m not fucking you out in the open surrounded by a bunch of people either.”

“You told me to find something to do with my hands,” Ashton whispered, and began sliding one hand under the edge of the blanket Orym had wrapped around him.

Orym felt their fingers brush against his outer thigh, tracing a slow line to his knee. Ashton leaned down and dropped soft kisses on his neck. A warm tongue drew slowly along the ridge of his ear and he felt his breath hitch. “Ashton,” Orym whispered. “I’m on watch.”

“So keep watch,” Ashton whispered back. Their hand moved up from his knee, the tips of their fingers brushing along his inner thigh. The size of their hands nearly encompassed his entire thigh as it slid slowly upward. He gasped quietly as they reached his hip and those long fingers dragged over his cock and balls. A shiver shot straight up his spine. The rough fabric shifted, teasing with just a touch of friction, as Ashton lightly caressed him. He spread his legs further, pressing into their touch as his cock stiffened.

Ashton’s forehead pressed against his as their fingers moved to the laces of his trousers. The blanket around him suddenly felt too hot but he did not dare remove it in case someone woke up. There might be some plausible deniability should someone see them, Orym hoped. Then his mind went quiet as Ashton finished unlacing and his focus was entirely on the cool fingertips dragging softly along his cock.

They continued to tease him, brushing faintly along his length, down across the sensitive skin on his balls, and tracing over the soft curls at the base of his dick. Their other hand slid up his back under his tunic.

Orym didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until Ashton whispered a reminder to breathe into his ear. He sucked in a shaking breath as Ashton at last wrapped those beautiful, strong fingers around his cock.

“Fuck, I can’t get over how soft your skin is. I could spend all day just touching you,” Ashton groaned as they pumped their hand, sliding across the firm length of him. They unbuttoned their pants with their free hand, revealing their stiff cock to the night air.

Orym caught the faint smell of them as they stroked themselves. He needed to be closer to them right now. He scanned their campsite, watching intently to see if anyone in sight was shifting. Dorian was the only one possibly near enough, but he continued to breathe with the deep, slow measures of sleep.

“Oh screw this,” Orym groaned, lifting up from his spot on the log. He straddled Ashton, grabbing his face for a deep kiss before settling on their lap, keeping one hand grasped tightly to the back of their neck. Ashton groaned quietly as their cock pressed against Orym’s between their bodies. Orym lifted Ashton’s hand to his mouth, licking a stripe across their palm before guiding it between them. Ashton’s eyes were half closed and they watched intently as they wrapped their hand around both of their cocks. They both admired the sight of the thick, dark length of Ashton against the pale, smaller Orym in the flickering firelight.

As Orym took in the two of them together, he was momentarily thrown by the idea that he had once taken that huge cock inside of him. It looked obscene next to his halfling size. A thrill ran up his spine at the thought of taking on that particular challenge again. Soon, he thought.

Orym reached to stroke along the length of Ashton below where they were held together, grinding against where their penis came up beneath his. Ashton dipped their head, pressing their forehead against Orym’s as they picked up the pace, each breathing a little harder and suppressing quiet moans of pleasure. For a while, they alternated dragging the sensitive tips of their cocks along the hardness of the other, building up tension and leaking precum.

As they both lost themselves to the sensation, their movements became erratic, focused more on pushing and pressing together as Ashton pumped both cocks in their hand. Ashton gripped Orym’s back, feeling the halfling begin to tremble with his oncoming climax. Orym began to moan and gasp as his orgasm took him and Ashton captured his mouth with theirs to swallow any noises that escaped him as the first spurts spilled out onto Ashton’s hand.

They continued moving their hand as Orym seized up in their lap until the halfling’s grasp on their neck became less vice-like. Orym broke off the kiss, taking deep breaths through an open mouth as he came down. He looked up into their eyes, the milky one seemed to shine in the darkness and firelight. “You’re so beautiful,” Orym whispered. He could feel more than he could see Ashton’s blush.

As Orym recovered himself, he felt the insistent press of Ashton’s cock as they ground into him. “Hold onto me,” he whispered, trusting Ashton to keep him upright on their lap as he reached down with both hands to encompass their large penis. He wiped his own spend off of their chests where it had splattered and slid it along their length. He ground down onto Ashton’s lap as they rolled their hips up into him. Orym used one hand to slide along the base of their cock and the other pumped along the head with firm, purposeful strokes. Quickly Ashton’s hips began to stutter in their upward thrusts and they pulled Orym tight as their own climax crashed over them.

Ashton's muscled arms clutched Orym tight to their chest. Orym released his grip on their cock and wrapped his arms around their midsection, resting his head on their shoulder. Eventually he remembered where they were and scanned the campsite again, hoping their activities hadn’t woken anyone. When it appeared all was still quiet, Orym relaxed into Ashton’s arms for another moment.

As they both returned to normal, Orym stood up on the log. He was just a touch taller than Ashton this way and he grasped their face in his hands, lifting it to his, and kissed him tenderly. He brushed his fingers over the glass. “A little quieter now?” he whispered, smiling.

Ashton grinned sleepily in return, nodding and brushing their lips against his.

“Good. You should sleep. Well, we should clean up this mess, but then you should sleep,” Orym said.

He hopped off the log, finding some leaves to wipe down his breastplate and Ashton’s leather. He smiled as they groggily made their way to their bedroll and curled up in their blanket. A wave of exhaustion washed over him as he watched Ashton drift off to sleep. He walked over to Dorian, stirring him for the next watch.

As he curled up on his bedroll, he watched for a moment as the low campfire, which Dorian was stirring up just a touch, sent light glittering across Ashton’s glass and gold scars. Something fluttered inside him and he smiled. Then he, too, drifted off to a deep and restful slumber.

The next morning rose humid and thick. The sun was lightening the sky but had not yet pierced through the trees of the jungle and so several of them woke to a dewy, if not downright wet, bed on the forest floor.

As Orym started preparing a morning meal, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Ashton began setting up a series of sticks in the ground near the fire. They scowled as they carefully strung up their damp blanket across the very rickety setup and Orym had to turn his back to them to hide a smile as the whole contraption collapsed for the second time. After Chetney pointed out that it might be nice if the rest of them could also be by the fire, they finally gave up.

And then proceeded to try the whole process again with all their clothing. Orym drew from his many years of military training to summon the self-control it took to not stare as Ashton stripped to their smalls and strung up their pants and jacket to dry by the fire. They finally settled with a huff on the log.

“Ashton, darling,” Laudna said, passing the breakfast around. “Not to say I don’t appreciate all this,” she said, waving a hand in the general direction of their bare chest, “but Imogen does have prestigitation to help with that.”

The glare Ashton gave them would have withered anyone else. Laudna merely smiled cheerfully back at them. “Of course, you’re welcome to stay like that, if you like. Your shoulder is fascinating.”

Orym watched as Laudna alighted on the log next to Ashton and traced a long finger over the shattered shoulder and the gold holding it together. Orym watched fondly as her joyfully creepy demeanor, which still unsettled Orym, drew Ashton out of their funk and the two spoke animatedly for a while.

Orym tore his eyes from admiring emerald skin that glowed in the morning sun as Imogen came to Orym’s side with a cup of tea for him. “Thanks, Imogen,” he said as he took the cup from her.

“You’re staring,” Orym heard in his head.

“What do you mean?” he responded vaguely.

Imogen looked down at him with a smile and raised brow. “I mean you’re trying desperately not to drool into your breakfast, Orym.”

Orym turned pink. “Ah... well, like Laudna said, it’s a nice view. I think you’d have to be blind to not appreciate that.”

“Mmhmm” was all Orym heard for a while.

“You know,” Imogen finally whispered out loud. “I don’t read y’alls minds if I can avoid it. I really try not to pry. But sometimes it’s hard to keep stuff out, you know? It just sorta seeps in.”

“Yeah. You said. Like when we’re in a tavern or you’ve had a few drinks.”

“Exactly,” Imogen responded. “But even blocking a lot of it out, I still get, like, touches of things. Not whole thoughts - more like feelings. That’s actually what drew me to Laudna. She’s a balm on my mind. Even when I’m not speaking to her in her head, she feels light and calm and happy.” Imogen's quiet smile spoke volumes.

Orym nodded. He wondered what the kaleidoscope of thoughts and feelings running through his mind felt like to Imogen.

“So when I tell you that Ashton is into you, it’s not like I’m intentionally reading his mind,” Imogen said mentally.

Orym’s pink face flushed a little more.

“It’s just that sometimes we’re all together and he just sends these waves of…” Imogen trailed off, blushing and fidgeting with her scarf. “Well. Um. Desire?”

Orym is suddenly exceptionally grateful that he’d considered Imogen’s abilities the night he tried the plug and waited until she and Laudna had departed for the evening before inserting it and returning to the pub. He would definitely not want that out there for her to pick up on.

“You’re quiet to me, Orym,” Imogen continued. “I mean, your mind is often speeding, but it’s like you have a wall up. Or it’s blanketed by this sadness I don’t want to pry into. So I don’t know how you feel about Ashton. I just saw you looking and thought, well maybe it would bring you some happiness?.”

“Um. Thanks?” Orym responded, not sure what he was feeling, really.

“Honestly, when I say desire, I mean sometimes they throw out these images and they are truly astonishing. Things I didn’t know were even physically possible.” Imogen’s cheeks puffed out as she exhaled loudly and then grinned down at Orym.

Orym coughed up the sip of tea he had just taken. Imogen laughed. “Ok, I’ll stop. I’m just saying, they may as well have been screaming ‘Blow me in front of all these people’ yesterday when you two were playing cards in the cart. That’s all.” And she walked off.

“Well, I guess that would explain why they lost so badly,” Orym responded as she stepped away, smiling as she burst out laughing.

He was fairly sure he wouldn’t get that image out of his head now though. He screwed his eyes shut and prayed that he would forget this entire conversation had ever happened. This was going to be a long day.

====

That evening a very grateful group of adventurers found themselves approaching a wayfarer’s inn. A rare patch of cleared jungle opened up and the sun shone down over the tips of the surrounding mountains, illuminating a humble building and stable with a well-worn path and a cheerful patch of colorful garden.

Ashton leapt from the front bench where they were perched with Fearne and bounded across the open space for the front gate. Opening it for the cart, the crew began piling out and unhitching their very tired horses. Ashton grinned happily as they closed the gate, managing to shoo a few escapee chickens back into the yard without kicking any, before they marched toward the opening door.

“Hello, there!” a merry voice called to them.

“Hi!” Ashton called out. “We’re going to need some real beds and as much ale as you’ve got.”

They knelt to shake the hand of the halfling woman at the door. She was short, even for a halfling, and exuded a warmth that made Ashton grin wider. “Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” she said as she grasped their large, stonelike hand in hers. “And a colorful group you all are too! I’m Orla and welcome to the Weary Traveler. We’ve got room for all of you and as much ale and warm food as you can handle. ”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard in days, Orla. Weary travelers, indeed we are.” Ashton was positively beaming now.

A few minutes later, the group had finished unloading the cart. Ashton had acquired rooms and was already spreading their stuff across a large double bed in one of the rooms. Laudna claimed the other double for her and Imogen, while Fearne, Dorian, and Chetney spread out amongst the smaller rooms. As Orym returned from stabling the horses with Imogen, he found the beds of the small inn all claimed.

Imogen smiled at him as he stood in the hall, listening to his friends calling out from room to room. “If you don’t want to share with Ashton in that great big comfy bed, I’m sure Chetney wouldn’t fight you too much about sharing the single bed top to tail,” she mused with a too-knowing smile.

Orym glared at her half-heartedly and dragged his bag into Ashton’s room.

Ashton chuckled. “Too slow to get your own space? I feel like getting in here first earned me my own bed.”

Orym leveled a look at them, dropping his things on the table by the small window. “Want me to go find Dorian and share with him?”

Ashton smiled. “Nah, man, I think we’re probably good sharing. If we have to.” They shrugged with feigned indifference.

====

After washing the worst of the road off them, the group gathered on the bottom floor and dragged the handful of small tables together for a much needed meal and several rounds of drinks. For all the cheer, everyone was craving a soft bed and the group called it an early night as the sun began to set.

Ashton and Orym’s room faced west. As Ashton sat on the edge of the bed to take their boots off, Orym hopped up on the table under the little window. Sitting cross-legged, he watched as the long rays stretched across the treetops, scattering dappled light into the room. Catha was rising on the other side, nearly full and waiting for the sun to recede. It was a beautiful sight and Orym couldn’t fathom just how far he had come from the windswept mountaintop of Zephrah to this verdant place nestled in the hills overlooking a jungle valley. He missed Zephrah, but the Tempest was right to send him away. The grief was a little easier when everything looked so different and unfamiliar.

He heard the bed creak as Ashton rose. Two emerald hands settled on the table on either side of his crossed legs as they stood behind him. They stilled for a moment as Orym leaned back and rested against their chest. Orym breathed deeply, taking in the earthy smell of Ashton. It reminded him a bit of the smell of rain on the bare stone of Zephrah’s cliffs.

“You alright, man?” Ashton asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Orym responded. “Just enjoying the view.”

They watched while the sun dipped below the tree line and the sky changed from pinks to deeper orange. Orym took comfort in the slow rise and fall of Ashton’s chest behind him as they stayed blessedly still for a while.

Orym broke the silence. “Imogen thinks you might be into me.”

He shook a little in his resting spot as Ashton chuckled. Ashton’s head dipped and brushed kisses along his neck. “Perceptive woman.”

“Says you had some particularly vivid and loud thoughts about me that were a bit of a shock to her,” Orym continued as Ashton’s mouth pressed firmer, their tongue and teeth beginning to work at leaving a mark.

“Well, if she’s going to go looking in my head, serves her right.”

Ashton’s hands came to Orym’s knees, tracing along his thighs. As their fingers reached his hips, they caught at the edge of his tunic, lifting it and pulling it over Orym’s head. They continued mouthing along Orym’s neck and along his shoulder while their hands rested on his waist. Orym relaxed into their embrace, feeling every inch of those cool, large hands framing him, nearly wrapping around him.

Ashton’s tongue began swirling along the lines of the cloud tattoos, following them as they billowed over his upper arm and shoulder. “When did you get these?” they asked.

“When I joined the Tempest’s guard. Our captain had a similar cloud tattoo. He was a good man. It became something like an initiation, to get a piece of Zephrah inked on us like he had.” Ashton turned Orym around to face them. They continued tracing the lines lower, following the vines along one side of his ribs.

“These too?” they asked.

“When I made rank.” Orym watched their fingers trace down, softer than Ashton usually would touch him. He knew the next question and felt a pang in his chest as they ran a thumb over the two moons on his arm.

“And these?”

Orym’s throat tightened. “The captain had a son. They were half-elves. We used to joke that he was the bright and shining Catha, while I was the pint-sized and much quieter Ruidus.”

Orym could feel Ashton’s eyes on him, but didn’t dare meet them. He watched as a dark green thumb, nearly black in the receding light, moved in light circles over Ruidus on his forearm.

“Used to,” Ashton whispered.

Orym sighed and dragged his eyes up to their face. “Yeah. Used to.” He gave them a half smile, removing his arm from their grip, and placing his hands on their chest. He ran them up the firm planes of their torso, moving up until he framed their face in his palms. Ashton looked hesitant. It was an unfamiliar look to Orym.

Orym pulled Ashton’s face down to his, pressing softly against the firm, slightly rough lips of the genasi. He withdrew slightly before he felt their hands circle his waist again. Pressing back, he captured their mouth again, holding them firmly until he felt Ashton suck on his lower lip. Opening up, he traced his tongue along their lip and wrapped a hand around the back of their neck. Ashton pressed their chest to his, opening to deepen the kiss and darting their tongue out to meet Orym’s.

They kissed languidly as Catha rose behind them. It was unlike any other time with Ashton. They were usually fierce in their ardor and the pair often was rushing to find a moment apart from the group to enjoy each other. This was something different, like they were discovering each other for the first time. Actually tasting the other, finding what made them sigh, what gave them shivers.

Orym’s fingers followed the sharp line of Ashton’s jaw, feeling the rougher texture of their skin here, before running down the smoother soft length of their neck. He felt their arms pull him tight to their chest, grasping at their waist as their fingertips pressed softly into the muscle of his back. Wrapping his arms around their neck, he let go of his grief, secure in this moment with Ashton. They were completely different, Ashton and his husband, and it was a relief to feel the swell of their shoulders and sharp shards of their hair in his hands. He could lose himself in the textures of Ashton’s body.

Orym gasped as Ashton’s lips left his and traveled down his chest. They sat in the chair at the table as they moved lower. Their tongue teased Orym’s nipple, causing him to arch his back. They held him firmly as they teased again, flicking their tongue then kissing softly as his nipples peaked at their touch.

Ashton pulled at Orym’s hips, dragging him to the edge of the table so they could continue pressing their mouth along the flat expanse of his stomach. Orym leaned back on his elbows, knees spread to accommodate Ashton as they worked over his skin. In the moonlight, he could just make out the shine where their mouth left a trail down his body. His abdominals sucked in as their fingers brushed the soft trail of hair that led from his navel to the edge of his trousers.

He propped his legs up over Ashton’s shoulders, lifting his hips as they made quick work of the laces and dragged the pants and smalls off of him. Their hands returned to his side, thumbs tracing circles in the hollows below his hip bones. Orym’s cock twitched as their eyes swept over him. They looked at him like he was the most decadent meal they had ever found set on the table before them and Orym smiled at the image he must make, spread out in front of them like this. They noticed and grinned back at him. They kept his gaze as their head turned slightly, dropping kisses on Orym’s knee where it rested on their shoulder.

Orym laid flat as their mouth tracked along the soft, sensitive skin along the inside of his thigh. His breath became more shallow and gasping as warm breath stirred the hair at the base of his cock. He writhed, wordlessly begging for Ashton to touch his aching dick, but those strong hands held him firmly in place.

A soft cry filled the quiet room as finally a warm, wet tongue licked up the underside of Orym’s cock. His heels dug into Ashton’s back, futilely trying to pull them closer. They held still as their tongue moved with maddening slowness around the head, swirling along the hood.

“Ashton, please,” Orym gasped.

The genasi smiled, but didn’t respond. Instead, they placed too gentle kisses along Orym’s length and down to his balls, tongue darting out gently, tortuously soft.

“Fuck. Please,” Orym continued to plead.

“Please what?” Ashton said in a low voice. Orym opened his eyes to see Ashton sat between his legs, grinning dangerously. Their hands pressed upward, dragging up along Orym’s stomach and chest. Ashton stood and leaned over the halfling. Their fingers sunk into his hair and pulled him up to their mouth. They kissed like a starved person, devouring Orym. He could barely keep up as they plunged into his mouth, tongue sliding along Orym’s. Orym drowned in their mouth, scrabbling to hold onto their hair, their neck, their shoulders. His legs wrapped around their middle and still Ashton pressed. Finally Orym felt something in him let go. Felt himself yield. It was terrifying and vulnerable but he let himself go and trust Ashton to take control.

Ashton slowed, pressing more forgivingly into him before laying Orym flat on the table once again. Their foreheads pressed together, Ashton smiled. Catha was shining through the window upon the milky opalescence of their injured eye and skull, sparkling along the amethyst hair.

“Please fuck me Ashton,” Orym whispered. “I need you inside of me. I want to feel… you.”

They softly kissed Orym again and returned to their chair. Gathering Orym’s legs over their shoulders once more, they dragged their tongue more firmly along his cock and at last wrapped those beautiful, kiss-swollen lips around the tip and sank fully down onto him. Orym let out a relieved cry and felt a trickle of spend leak out of him. Ashton’s clever tongue quickly collected it.

They removed themselves for a moment, pressing a quick kiss to the inside of Orym’s thigh, before crossing the room and collecting a vial of oil from their belongings. Orym watched their muscled form, the broad shoulders glistening like marble in the low light. Somehow they still had pants on, Orym marveled. He grinned as they stood and turned back toward him, seeing the noticeable bulge outlined there. They smiled back, glancing down where Orym’s eyes were focused. Unbuttoning as they returned to the table, they sighed happily as their cock finally sprang free of its confines. They stroked themselves a few times to ease some of that surging ache.

Returning to their seat, Orym spread himself wide again, planting his feet on Ashton’s chest. Orym inhaled sharply as a slicked finger, slightly cooler than his body, pressed gently against his entrance. He relaxed and let himself flutter open and Ashton’s finger slid smoothly in. He could feel Ashton’s eyes on him as they slowly pulled their finger back out, then pressed in deeper. He stopped caring what he must look like, spread out for them on the table, begging for more.

Orym groaned as a second finger slid alongside the first. They paused, waiting for Orym to loosen and accept them. His toes curled into Ashton’s firm chest as he pressed his hips forward, taking their fingers in further. Normally Orym was fairly quiet but small moans and gasps escaped him as those thick fingers pressed into him, rotating slightly and then scissoring as Ashton stretched his rim open further until he no longer resisted their thickness. Ashton pulled a louder cry from him when those devious fingers crooked in just the right spot, sending lightning up Orym’s spine.

Ashton rose from the chair, leaning over Orym and stealing a kiss. Orym looked up at the genasi above him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as he felt their fingers slip from him. Ashton propped themselves up on one arm while the other slicked their cock. Orym practically whimpered as he felt the thick head of them pressed against his opening. Slowly, Ashton pushed in and Orym groaned at the slight burn of it. They paused for a moment. “You ok?”

Orym nodded, reaching a hand up to grasp them behind the neck. “I forgot how big you are,” he managed to gasp out. “Fuck, it feels good.”

Ashton grinned down at him, watching for pain in his face as they pushed a little further. It took a little while, moving incrementally and adding more oil, before Ashton was finally seated inside Orym. They pressed their forehead down to Orym’s while they both struggled to regulate their breath. When Orym was comfortable, he pressed his lips to theirs and nodded. Slowly, he felt them withdraw. It felt like they pulled back for an eternity before they reversed direction and filled him again.

Ashton straightened. Their eyes stared hungrily at Orym's hole as they watched their cock pull out of him, dragging at his rim, which was stretched impossibly wide. They groaned as they slid back into him, fingers digging into the soft skin of the halfling. Their face looked utterly enraptured in the low light as they sunk into Orym again and again.

They ran a hand up Orym’s side and back down along his stomach, thrusting slowly and savoring the tightness of his ass around their cock, enveloping them in the halfling's heat. Suddenly, they stilled.

“What?” Orym gasped.

Ashton didn’t answer, but thrust shallowly a few times, hand still pressed flat along the plane of Orym’s stomach. Their eyes grew wide and their mouth dropped open a touch as they looked up to Orym.

“I can feel it,” they whispered. They thrust slowly in and out another time. And again.

“Ashton,” groaned Orym. “Why aren’t you fucking me? Please fuck me.”

They didn’t respond, but grabbed Orym’s wrist. They placed his hand on his abs, laying theirs over the top and then slowly withdrew again. When they thrust back in, Orym could feel movement under his fingers. His cock, which had softened a bit as he focused on the stretch of his ass, grew rock-hard as he realized what he was feeling. He shuddered as arousal rocked through him. He pushed both of their hands away, rising up on one elbow. “Do it again.”

Ashton moved again. This time they both groaned when Orym’s moonlit abdomen visibly distended as Ashton pushed in.

“Fuuck.”

Ashton’s hands gripped Orym’s hips and began thrusting rhythmically. Orym rolled his hips up with each motion and they both watched Ashton’s cock causing Orym’s stomach to bulge. They slammed again and again into him, their cries growing more frequent. Orym could feel himself unraveling and laid flat on the table, pulling his knees higher as Ashton thrust faster and harder. With the thickness of their cock, every snap of their hips dragged the head of their cock over Orym’s sweet spot inside. He began seeing the sparking colors behind his closed eyelids as Ashton’s movements became more erratic and pushed them both closer to the edge. He felt Ashton’s hand clamp down on his stomach again, feeling for their cock pushing up inside of Orym and they shuddered hard with their climax. Orym opened his eyes to watch Ashton’s face as they came, felt their seed pumping into him before he too went over the edge, coming untouched over Ashton’s hand where it lay flat on his belly.

Ashton crashed down onto their elbows, pressing their forehead to Orym’s as they both took heaving breaths. Orym opened his eyes to find Ashton’s eyes boring into him, his mouth slightly agape with awe. He grinned hazily up at them as waves of release and calm swept days of tension from his body. All that was left was their body against his, the burning sensation of a well-fucked ass, and the feeling of being completely full and content. He couldn’t remember when he had last felt this… happy. Though admittedly, he was not particularly capable of thought at the moment.

Ashton carefully withdrew, dropping kisses along Orym’s neck and chest as they pulled out. Orym’s legs dropped to hang over the edge of the table, completely spent. Ashton grinned. “Planning on staying there?”

“I don’t think I will be walking any time soon,” Orym chuckled, eyes closed and relaxed. He could feel cum spilling out of him but couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

He felt strong arms surround him. He lifted his torso enough for Ashton to slide an arm under him, the other catching under his knees. Princess carry, Dorian calls it, Orym dimly recalled. He was too blissed out to really care.

Ashton carried him to the soft bed. It was truly incredible after long nights on the forest floor. Orym sank gratefully into the pillows. He was already drifting off by the time Ashton came around to the other side of the bed and settled down alongside him.

“Goodnight, Orym,” they whispered, laying a soft kiss on his short hair.

Orym might have mumbled something resembling goodnight before he tumbled into a deep, restful sleep.

The white light of Catha gently bathed the room as Orym smiled in his sleep. Curled in the curve of a warm body, he dreamed of a modest home with a bed that wasn’t really meant for two people, but he’s small. Will liked that Orym had to stay close.

In Orym’s dream, the sun was beginning to turn the sky a gentle grey, only just turning to pale blues at the horizon. Trained to rise at dawn, he stirred and thought through his plans for the day. He had plenty of time before he had to report for duty. He probably had time for a good run around Zephrah. There was a path that crested the mountain peak and it was a beautiful spot to catch a sunrise. The brutal steepness of running that path made it even more precious.

Orym took in a deep breath, pressing his back gently into the curve of Will’s body behind him for a heartbeat, before gently lifting his heavy arm from his waist. He grinned at the low grumble of his husband’s complaints as he sat up. Will scooped his arm around Orym’s waist, pulling him backward. Sitting back against Will’s chest, Orym traced the sharp line of Will’s cheek fondly.

“I’m going for a run,” he whispered, dropping a light kiss to Will’s temple. “Go back to sleep.”

A love that ached for how big it felt surged through Orym as Will opened his clear, bright eyes with a mischievous smile. The arm around his waist clutched Orym as Will turned, yanking Orym from his seat and maneuvering his slight form atop his husband as he rolled.

“What have I said about the evils of morning exercise?” Will said, laughing and rubbing his hands down Orym’s athletic frame to rest at his hips.

Orym let his legs drop to the sides of Will’s torso and sat up, running his hands down the smooth, long lines of the half-elf under him. Will waggled his eyebrows ridiculously.

“I like exercising in the morning. And morning sex does not count as exercise,” Orym said, starting the familiar steps of the dance that was this well-worn argument.

Will followed in style, rehashing the same points that he always made.

Orym’s dream shifted and he stood quietly at his post, standing still with long practice despite the lingering ache in his rear. He forced his thoughts away from the memories of Will’s cock. He could still feel the ghost of it inside him. Will had won that argument. Not that Orym minded losing, in this case.

He had missed the sunrise, of course. But, he supposed, he would enjoy the sunset later. The Tempest usually made time at the end of her day for it.

Orym’s gaze sought her out and found her standing under the large tree in the town center. She was talking with Derrig, an inquisitive look on her face. His eyes stayed in motion, scanning the villagers as they moved about their business. All familiar enough faces.

He looked back towards the Tempest. Will was at Derrig’s side now, his father’s hand slapping his shoulder affectionately. Orym smiled at the pride that his captain showed in his capable son.

Just then, something caught his attention. The tree just over Will’s shoulder… cracked. Orym had seen Keyleth tree stride before and it looked similar, but something about the darkness within that gap set Orym’s feet flying before he could even register what he was looking at.

His legs pumped, covering ground swiftly despite his short stature, weaving expertly between passersby. Across the square, Will’s eyes met his. A curious look crossed his fine features but as he saw the concern in Orym, his training kicked in and he swung about swiftly, just in time to parry a blow from enemies falling from the tree above.

The streets erupted in chaos. The villagers of Zephrah scattered as the guard took up arms against intruders that poured from the tree. Orym’s legs churned as he surged forward, coming into the fray with a leap that knocked a black figure to the ground. His sword flashed and the figure under him just… dissolved. He breathed heavily, eyes wide with shock before a scream of pain tore his heart from his chest.

Time slowed in Orym’s dream, as it always did. He felt the burning of his lungs as he flung himself toward his husband. He knew he wouldn’t make it. He never did. Will’s scream continued, shredding Orym to pieces as his legs pounded the hard dirt road, too slow.

He reached a hand for his husband - nearly there - when he was ripped to consciousness.

For a moment, Orym thought the moans of pain were his own as he heaved great gulps of air. He clutched a hand to his chest as if it could ease the gaping wound in his heart where Will once was.

The sounds of pain were muffled as Orym registered Ashton’s presence at his side, burying their face in a pillow.

Tears stung Orym’s eyes and he blinked through the blurriness to focus on the genasi. The edge of that slag glass in Ashton’s skull seemed to shimmer erratically in the low light. Only the moonlight offered Orym any additional light to make out their form, but that glass seemed to sputter with its own internal glow.

A growl of pain tore through Ashton again as they clutched the pillow to their head.

“Ash,” Orym whispered. “How can I help?”

Ashton’s only response was to tense further. Orym could now see sputtering flashes of red and orange around the edge where the glass met their hair. He rose from the bed to go find Fearne just as a light knock sounded at the door.

Imogen’s voice called out, scared, “Are ya’ll alright? I feel pain.”

Orym hastily donned his discarded pants and opened the door. “A bad headache, I think. I’m getting Fearne.”

Imogen looked confused. “I thought…” she trailed off, rubbing a bleary eye and clutching her robe tight. “I thought it was you, Orym. It felt like you….”

A shadow flit across Orym’s face for a brief moment before he slipped past the woman. “I’m fine. It’s Ashton who's in pain.”

He jogged over to Fearne’s room, hauling her from sleep to attend Ashton. They weren’t exactly wounded, but Orym trusted Fearne’s capabilities and her handy bag of herbs that helped when magic didn't. That and he had no idea how to rouse a robot from stasis.

By the time the pair returned to the room, Laudna had joined Ashton on the bed and was laying her cool hands on his forehead like a compress. Imogen still stood cautiously in the hall, not wanting to crowd the room. Orym ignored her long look as he followed Fearne in.

Ashton was curled tight as a pill bug. Jarring flashes of color peeked through Laudna's fingers as Fearne stroked a soothing hand down the genasi’s bare back.

"Now, now," she crooned in a light tone. "Let's do something about that head of yours, huh?"

Orym watched anxiously as tears of agony leaked from Ashton’s scrunched eyes. Long minutes passed with only the quiet murmurs of Fearne at work, weaving magic and tea and kindness until Ashton’s breath became a little less ragged. Orym stayed back near the door, arms crossed tensely. He felt Imogen at his side, still shaken.

“Orym,” she said quietly, eyes still trained on the bed.

He shook his head, as if that would fend off the memories that snuck into his mind when his focus on Ashton wandered.

“I’m fine, Imogen.”

Her hand dropped to her side. Her fingers trembled out to knock gently on his shoulder.

“You’re not, Orym,” she replied. “I’m telling you, it was you I was feeling. And as bad as Ashton’s pain is rocking through my head too, that was….” She let out a shaky exhale, as if it were her sadness. Well, Orym supposed it was a little hers now too. How strange.

He sighed and reached up to squeeze her hand.

“If you want to talk, you know you can tell me. Not much point trying to hide it really,” she continued with a wry smile.

His mouth twitched in a returning smile. “I’m sure FCG would tell me it’s the only way to deal with it.”

A little huff of a laugh came in response.

He released her hand, rubbing his arm along the moon tattoo. “I told Ashton, a bit. Tonight. I think that’s why I dreamed about him again. It’s been a little while since I’ve had one that vivid.”

“Who was he?” Imogen clutched her robe closed over her chest, feeling that pulsing ache that gnawed at the center of Orym.

“He… he was my husband," Orym whispered, his voice choked. "Will.”

Her eyes went wide and tears welled in them. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Orym.”

He shook his head. “Long time ago.”

“What happened?”

“He… well it’s maybe too long a story for tonight. But he died.” No matter how many times he forced himself to accept that reality, saying it always clenched at his throat. "Years ago."

Imogen’s fingers squeezed his. Taking in the scene, Orym realized the state it was in. There was no way at least one of them hadn't noticed the scattered clothing about the room. Or, (oh fuck, really?) the open jar of oil on the table.

Hoping his small frame might go unnoticed, he slipped across the room and palmed the item, picking up a discarded shirt with his toes as he passed. He felt a wordless amusement in his mind from Imogen who at least had the tact to not say anything aloud. Cheeks flaming, Orym quickly tidied up the room as Fearne’s gentle voice spoke soothingly from the bed.

In time, the others retreated back to their rooms until only Fearne remained. Ashton had finally drifted off to sleep, the slag glass significantly quieter in his skull. As she lifted the blanket to cover him, Orym rolled his eyes as she very unsubtly peaked to see what they were working with. She nodded appreciatively, waggling her eyebrows at Orym. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the blood not to rush to his face again.

“I’m not sure they would appreciate you looking without their knowing, Fearne,” Orym reprimanded.

“I’m not going to do anything,” she whispered back defensively.

Orym sighed, too tired to explain, and ushered her to the door. Crawling back into the bed, he carefully lay down next to Ashton, leaving space between them and watching their sleeping face. A fresh pang darted through that old wound, his dream returning vividly to his mind. He reached out to brush his fingertips over the cool, hard skin of Ashton’s face, reminding himself of their differences and grounding himself in the present as best he could.

The moonlight filtered across the blankets and turning to glance towards the window, Orym whispered quietly to the outline of Catha in the distance, “I miss you.”

Glancing back to Ashton’s slackened features, so peaceful compared to his normally animated and expressive face, he added, “You’d like them.”

When the group reconvened at breakfast, it was swiftly decided that the long trip not to mention the night’s activity warranted a break in their travel and an extra day relaxing at Orla’s.

Orym found himself with Orla, Dorian and Fearne in the kitchen as Dorian told the other halfling of Orym’s great feat of pie-eating. In no time, they were mixing dough while Fearne stirred caramelizing fruits absent-mindedly. Orym regularly jumped over to make sure she wasn’t letting it burn.

While the fruit cooled, the trio lounged in the main room of the little inn over a pot of tea.

“Orym,” Dorian asked carefully. “Have you told Ashton about Will?”

Orym looked up at him surprised.

He blushed a darker blue for a moment. “Only Imogen mentioned that she felt your grief and wanted a friend to talk to you. And also maybe you should tell Ashton if you’re sleeping with them.”

The halfling rubbed his palm across his face. “Who said I was sleeping with them? I mean, I was sharing a bed, but that’s not sleeping with them.

Fearne leveled a stare at him. “Orym. They were completely naked and you had cum drying on your stomach.”

Orym had never turned so red in his life. Dorian went the opposite direction, flushing a deep shade of blue.

“Fearne,” Dorian groaned. “We’ve talked about what is too much sharing.”

“Whaat?” she replied indignantly. “There’s a whole lot I didn’t share! I didn’t share that Ashton’s dick is truly extraordinary or that Orym still isn’t walking straight, even though I’ve been dying to ask because I’m very curious about how they fit that inside you. I even waited until Orla was gone before I said anything at all! I’ve been so good!”

Orym was at a complete loss. He had no other reaction except to drop calmly off the chair and walk right out the front door.

“We’ll come find you when there’s pie!” Dorian called apologetically.

=====

Orym finally found Ashton in the stable, of all places.

“Didn’t think this was your kind of thing,” he said in an upbeat voice as he stepped into the open stall.

Ashton looked up from the hay bale they were seated on.

“Horses?” they asked.

Orym nodded.

“Nah not really. I’m just bringing down some hay from the loft. Trying to be useful.”

Ashton stretched their arms, one hand scratching at the back of their neck as they met Orym’s eyes awkwardly.

“Sorry about last night,” they mumbled with an apologetic half smile.

Orym stepped into the stall, coming to stand between Ashton’s legs. His hands ran gently over their knees as he looked up into their face.

“There is nothing to apologize for.”

Ashton huffed skeptically. Orym reached up and caressed Ashton’s face, his fingers running along the edge of slag glass.

“I don’t need your pity,” Ashton growled, wrenching his head from Orym’s reach. “I don’t need your help.”

Orym stepped up on the bale, then stepped again so he stood on Ashton’s thighs. A firm hand forced them to face the halfling straight on.

“I remember,” Orym said in a low voice, “when someone told me to pull my head in and let someone help. That, even though I am perfectly capable of handling my shit, sometimes it’s nice to let someone help.”

Ashton glared at him for throwing their words back at them. “It’s not the same. You had a monster poking holes in you.”

“It’s not?” Orym asked softly.

Ashton scoffed at the gentleness in Orym’s voice. As if this guy had endless calm when all Ashton felt was rage roiling through them. It felt like waves crashing uselessly on an immovable cliffside.

“It’s not the same. It’s just in my head,” they said gruffly.

“Ash,” Orym snapped. “Just because it’s in your head doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Pain is pain.”

Ash shook their head.

“You may have missed it,” Orym said in a dark voice, “but it was me that woke up screaming. And I could see the pain flashing in your brain, in case you didn’t realize.” Orym tapped the slag where Ashton’s brain shimmered.

“That is real and so is this,” Orym tapped at the imaginary open wound that was his heart. “And we don’t have to deal with that shit alone.”

Mismatched eyes raked over Orym with concern. “Why were you screaming? Did I hurt you?” Their hands ran tentatively over Orym’s waist and hips where they had dug bruises into his skin.

He smirked. “Not anything I didn’t ask for.”

He paused, trying to set aside the pang in his chest.

“I dreamed about him,” he said quietly, looking down to his arm and running his fingers along the moon tattoo.

“About his… death,” he nearly choked on the word again. “And when I woke his screams became yours and…” Orym trailed off, not finding the words.

Ashton’s eyes went wide as they saw a glimpse of that immense grief Orym carried around with him. And immediately realized they were completely incapable of filling that kind of void. They pulled Orym off their lap and stood, making for the exit without another word.

Ashton started with surprise as Orym knocked them back into the wall of the little stall. The edge of it hit them just below their shoulder blades, a hard line behind them as firm hands settled on his hips.

“Look, I’m not ready for that talk Ash,” Orym said, pressing their hips firmly into the wooden barrier so they couldn't squirm away. “But I can admit I care about you. I don't have expectations for what this is, but I am really enjoying it. Can you really walk away right now?”

Ashton glared down at the small man. They were never great at emotions at the best of times and the dull emptiness that the migraine left behind warred with the roil of fear and whatever the hell else Orym was stirring in them. His throat worked as brown eyes met theirs intently as Orym deliberately traced small circles in the hollow of their hip.

“You can turn back, Ashton. I won’t stop you,” Orym said in that annoyingly calm tone, even as one hand ran slowly down the outside of their thigh, sliding with a susurrus along the leather. "But I need this. You. You help."

He waited patiently as something did battle in Ashton’s mind. The desire to run was screaming there behind their eyes, but so was the memory of this man sinking on their cock, his face in the moonlight, his sword swinging next to their hammer as they fought.

“No,” they finally managed to choke out, squeezing their eyes shut as if that would stop Orym's penetrating gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Their breath hitched as Orym’s hand slid up under the edge of their shirt, caressing their skin with calloused fingers.

“Good,” he whispered into their skin before his mouth caught on Ashton’s stomach, his tongue tracing the V line where it emerged from their pants.

His fingers loosed the buttons with practiced ease, drawing their pants down from their hips. Orym nuzzled that line between muscles further, tracing it with soft kisses as his hands slid around their waist and coasted over the swell of their ass. He twisted Ashton’s hips, forcing them to turn around so he could appreciate that perfection.

Ashton rested their arms on top of the short stable wall as they turned, keeping an eye on the open door. The horse in the next stall lifted a large head and eyed the genasi with disinterest. Ashton stuck their tongue out at it.

Small hands cased over their thighs as Orym appreciated the hard curve of muscle before him. Ashton could only just feel the soft brush of Orym’s lips on their ass.

Orym savored the taste of Ashton’s skin. It was earthy and reminded him of home. He nipped small bites into the round swell, enjoying how their skin resisted his teeth. Ashton pressed back into Orym’s mouth, craving more.

He traced his tongue along the curve where their ass met thigh. Ashton growled impatiently. Orym grinned as he mouthed inward, dipping his head to lick the softer skin of their inner thigh. Ashton stepped to spread their legs wider, offering Orym more room to work.

The halfling traced the cleft of Ashton’s rear, admiring the perfect globes of their asscheeks even as his thumbs dug into them, marring their smooth roundness. Prying them apart, Orym pressed his face into the revealed space, his tongue darting out to flick at the puckered rim.

Ashton groaned above him as the wet heat of the halfling’s tongue teased their entrance. Their cock, already interested, swelled at the delicate touch at their hole contrasted by the iron grip the fighter had on their ass. Orym dug his nails deeper into their tough skin, knowing Ashton certainly wasn't opposed to a little roughness, as he probed inward with his tongue.

Their hole was tight, the muscle clenching around Orym’s tongue so he moved slowly, slipping in and withdrawing to trace enticing circles until Ashton pressed back into him, wordlessly begging for more.

With one arm propping them up on the stall's short wall, Ashton let their free hand drift down to their swelling cock. Grasping it firmly, they began to tug, drawing it out with the slow rhythm of Orym’s tongue pulsing in and out of their hole. They breathed out as they relaxed the ring of muscle there, inviting Orym to delve deeper.

Ashton stuttered curses as that clever tongue swirled and dipped in them. They glanced over their shoulder. The halfling’s face was buried in the dark emerald cleft of their ass and they gripped their cock tighter at the view. "Fuck, Orym," they groaned. "Fuck me."

Brown eyes rose to meet theirs but the tongue did not pause and continued to flick around their rim. Orym’s tongue was tiring but the lusty look from Ashton drove him on.

"Please," they groveled.

Finally Orym relented, wiping his mouth as he released Ashton and gasping for a much needed breath. He shook his head. "I don't have oil."

"Fuck me dry. I don't fucking care," Ashton growled.

Orym pulled at Ashton until they turned. Their cock jutted outward towards the halfling’s face. He stared at it, distracted for a moment, before tearing his eyes away and looking up at Ashton, shaking his head.

"I've had enough of pain today. No, I will not hurt you."

Orym reached up to squeeze their dick a little tighter than necessary, adding, "Today."

Ashton's pupils blew out at the implied promise.

Orym’s brain pinged wildly for a moment with possible futures before refocusing on the task at hand.

His hand moved, sliding up the velvety skin. Like the finest moss on a stone. Orym’s thumb traced the veins in their cock before closing around it. A droplet of precum gathered at the tip, so Orym guided it to his mouth and licked it away.

Using both hands, Orym worked Ashton’s length while he took the tip in his mouth. The genasi stared down at him with hungry eyes as his lips stretched around their thickness. Arousal stirred in Orym’s core at that look, crowding out the other feelings as he focused on the sensation of the incredibly hard cock dragging over his tongue. His hands twisted as they pumped their shaft, moving in tandem with the bobbing of his head.

Ashton’s head dropped back, mouth opening in a silent wail as Orym’s cheeks hollowed and the halfling threatened to choke himself on their cock. A cool breeze wafted through the stable, stirring a rag hanging near a saddle. A thought occurred to Ashton and their head snapped up.

"Wait," they gasped at Orym, who withdrew his mouth but continued to work their cock in the combined circle of his hands. Fuck, if those hands didn't make them look enormous. Shaking the thought from their head, they extracted themselves from Orym for a minute and stepped out from the stall with a cautious look for potential observers. Seeing none, he dashed to the hanging saddles and, yes, there was oil for the leather.

Slowed by their half-off pants, Ashton practically threw the jar at Orym. The fighter laughed as they plucked it from the air with dexterous hands. Ashton’s eyes caught on a crop and snagged that too, whirling it suggestively. Orym shook his head with a grin and said, "Another time."

Ashton rolled their eyes. "Fine, but one of these days I want you to absolutely wreck me."

Orym raised an eyebrow, a corner of his mouth quirking upward. He nodded, "I can do that," he conceded in that infuriatingly calm voice, as if he were agreeing to take the night watch.

Ashton grinned widely. "I'll hold you to that."

They stroked their cock, taking their position leaning on the stable wall again. They tossed a glance back over their shoulder. "But if you're not elbow deep in my ass in the next five minutes, I'm using this thing," they teased, flicking the crop against their calf, smacking sharply against the leather of their pants.

Orym chuckled softly as he opened the oil, glad to discover it wasn't one of the more heinous smelling ones. Dipping his fingers he admired Ashton’s form as they braced themselves against the half wall, legs spread as far as their loosened pants would allow, apparently not willing to take the time to divest themselves of their boots.

Setting the jar nearby, Orym stepped behind Ashton, his eyes even with the sloppy wetness his mouth had left behind. With no warning beyond the hand that pried a cheek aside, Orym sank two fingers directly into Ashton. A happy cry escaped the genasi at the sudden intrusion, stretching them just to the edge of being uncomfortable.

They sucked in a breath as Orym’s fingers began working them. He twisted his hand, spreading oil around their rim before pulling nearly out. Ashton’s ass tried to follow but Orym’s teeth on firm muscle stopped them. He swirled a finger along the grasping ring of muscle, prying them open before sinking back in to the last knuckle.

With far less warm up than he'd normally use but conceding slightly to Ashton’s desires, Orym scissored his fingers as they withdrew and thrust roughly back in. Judging from Ashton's barely concealed moans, they didn't mind the burn. A third finger quickly joined, then a fourth. Ashton's knees went weak and the short wall of the stall dug into their arms where it held them upright.

Just then, soft footfalls sounded nearby and Ashton snapped their head up to see Fearne stepping into the stable.

"Oh there you are!" she said in a sing-song tone.

"Ah.." Ashton stammered. "Yup. Just getting h-hay for the horses," they managed to gasp out as Orym’s fingers slipped from them, leaving them gaping for a moment. Orym couldn't resist dipping a tongue back in for a quick taste.

Orym silently knelt, adding oil to his hand and praying Fearne wouldn't walk all the way into the stable. The open stalls concealed him from the main entrance but there were no doors to shut, only the half wall.

Fearne cocked her head slightly, grinning serenely. "You seem a little winded, Ashton."

Orym smirked, watching Ashton’s eyes bug slightly as he returned his fingers to their entrance and slid them slowly back in.

"Hard work," Ashton said shakily.

Orym held back a snort but wrapped reached his other hand between their legs to stroke the dark green length. Hard work, indeed.

"Have you seen Orym?" Fearne continued.

"W- what? No. Yes? No."

Orym stifled a laugh, stuffing his mouth with Ashton’s thick ass to keep quiet.

"Which is it, Ashton?" Fearne’s grin was turning slightly predatory.

Orym’s hand stretched Ashton until the widest part of his hand fit snugly in. His thumb rubbing along the edge of their opening to encourage them to allow for more stretch.

"Orym are you back there? Ashton, if you've got your dick in Orym right now, just say so and I'll go," Fearne said with a remarkably innocent tone as Ashton struggled to breath like a normal fucking person. "Or I could stay," she added cheerfully. "Your choice."

"I don't have my fucking dick in him, Fearne," Ashton said with what was definitely not a squeak. "Maybe he went for a walk or something. I don't fucking know."

"Alright. Well if you see him, tell him there’s pie. He loves pie, you know,” Fearne responded, turning back to the yard. “And Orym, if you are there and have your mouth full or something, do something that will make Ashton whimper so I don’t have to go traipsing through the jungle looking for you.”

Releasing Ashton’s dick, Orym gripped their hip firmly, then slid the rest of his hand inside of them. They choked on an aborted cry as Orym stretched their ass to the limits.

“That was fucking evil,” they gasped, looking at Fearne but probably talking to both of them.

Fearne beamed, chirped a goodbye to the pair of them, then turned and flounced back to the main building.

Ashton groaned deep in their chest, dropping their forehead to their arms on the wall’s edge. Orym wasted no time, sliding his hand so just his wrist bones pulled at their rim occasionally as the rest of them adjusted to his hand. When Ashton was moaning and pressing back into his touch for more, Orym withdrew his whole hand, curling his fingers more to make a thicker fist and driving it back into them. Their hand flew to their cock, grasping it desperately as Orym pistoned his arm into them, catching at their rim and curling at the apex to drag back across their prostate as he pulled back. With the precision of someone who had spent years practicing the exact thrust of a sword, Orym nailed those sensitive nerves with every motion. Their hand thrashed on their cock in juxtaposition.

It wasn’t long before Ashton was gasping, knuckles palest green where they held the edge of the wall, the other hand pumping their cock. Orym slammed into them harder, biting hard into the sweet curve of their ass. The genasi clenched around his fist, his swollen asshole pulling Orym in as they came undone. White streaks spattered the wall as their orgasm tore through them. Orym curled his wrist, rocking into that bundle of nerves as they swallowed their cries.

When at last Ashton’s hand stuttered to a stop, Orym slowed, moving his arm in long, slow strokes inside of them as they came down from their high and eventually slipped his hand out.

Orym sought out a cloth to clean his hand of the oil as Ashton clung breathless to the stall, their knees a little unstable. He returned to wipe some of the oil where it trickled down their thighs. Not much could be done about the pants right now.

As Ashton’s senses returned, they dragged their pants back into place and collapsed onto the hay, wincing as their ass hit the bound bale harder than they intended.

When Orym stepped closer, they snatched him, pulling him atop their lap and crushing their lips to his. Strong hands gripped Orym’s ass, pulling him tight to Ashton’s chest and he moaned into their mouth as his up to now ignored erection ground into firm muscle.

Ashton broke the kiss after a while.

“What the fuck was that with Fearne?” they asked, remembering their earlier outrage. Embarrassment? Exhilaration?

Orym laughed. “She won’t say anything… Probably. It’s not like they haven’t all figured it out by now. They came to help you last night and you were completely naked. I think I still had cum on my stomach.”

Ashton made a face. “I guess I missed that part. Lots of looks?”

“Fearne may have snuck a peak under the blankets. Everyone else had tact.”

Ashton groaned. “That woman is trouble.”

Orym nodded in agreement, dropping kisses along the cool skin of their neck.

Ashton held Orym at the waist, turning to seat him on the bale and dropping to their knees in front of him. “One day,” they grumbled, untying the laces on Orym’s trousers, “I will have payback for fucking fisting me in front of her, you fucker.”

And with that, they pulled Orym’s cock free and, cutting off his chuckle, enveloped it completely.

Perhaps it was the hazy slowness of having already climaxed themselves, but Ashton took their time unraveling Orym. They moved deliberately, rather than their typical heady passion, taking care to listen for Orym’s little gasps and moans. Orym arched as their mouth consumed him and entirely lost himself to their tongue.

Ashton watched the slow fading of the stars as dawn crept ever closer. Not quite light yet, but not so dark he couldn’t see. Usually he shared the dawn shift with Orym (when had that become a habit?) but tonight they were posted up with Laudna, who was occupying herself by dancing Pate around the embers of the campfire in some heathen’s rite. Or something.

They cast their eyes about, focusing on the edge of the woods in particular. The Hells had finally reached the edge of the jungle where it transitioned to more open spaces before they entered the marshy lands around the Heartmoor. Best guess put them about a half day out of town. Everyone was itching to reach it, even if it was some shitty bog village, as long as they weren’t cooped up in the cart together for a while.

Ashton sought out Orym, bundled in his bedroll. He was curled in a tight ball, blanket fending off the cool humidity that seemed to soak into everything. Ashton pulled his own thin blanket from around his shoulders – sun was coming up anyway, they’d be fine – and draped it gently over Orym.

Fuck, he was pretty, even with the grime of several days on the road. A smudge of dirt clung to the corner of his jaw near his ear where his careful ablutions hadn’t managed to reach. Ashton licked their thumb and gently rubbed off the little patch. Orym, of course, woke up, the perceptive little fucker. Ashton smiled apologetically, whispering, “Sorry, you looked cold. Go back to sleep.”

They could feel Laudna’s eyes boring through the back of their skull. Blessedly, she hadn’t pried in the last couple of days, but Ashton felt their time was probably running out on that front. Eventually they’d have to fess up to whatever this was with Orym.

They glanced back at her. “I’m going to stretch my legs. Be back in a few. Don’t come after me unless you hear screaming.”

Marching out to the edge of the jungle, Ashton was mentally kicking themself for that stupid move with the dirt. Who the fuck does that? Or even notices? They spent way too much of their time these days watching Orym from the corner of their eye, or sneaking a glance when he wasn’t looking. It was one thing to occasionally hook up, but now Ashton wanted him all the godsdamned time.

They stomped a short distance into the forest. Not far enough that they couldn’t hear the camp or anything, but they needed a minute to think. Or… a memory of Orym sprawled out on that inn table, writhing with need, came unbidden to Ashton’s mind. Fuck, he looked so good like that.

Ashton’s cock stirred in their pants and they took a good look around to check nothing was around and Laudna wasn’t following. They flicked open the buttons of their trousers, dipping a hand in with a sigh. This was really becoming a problem. Especially traveling all day with these people. He couldn’t be jacking off because Orym gave him that goofy little smile that meant he was going to do something reckless. Or worse, raised his eyebrow in that inquisitive look that meant he knew what Ashton was thinking about, and he liked it.

Fucking hell. Their fingers wrapped around their cock, pulling slowly as it filled in their palm. He went back to that other image. His cock buried inside Orym. How thick it looked penetrating the halfling. Yet Orym begged for more, bucking to take them deeper, grasping at the bulge of their cock in his belly. Ashton got hard quickly, and pulled their cock out to get a better range of motion. They leaned against a tree, their hand moving steadily, set to the rhythm of that particular night, seared forever in Ashton’s memory.

His hand was a rough substitute for the divine heat of Orym’s ass, the way he clenched down on them so tight it was just on the sweet side of painful. Ashton squeezed his cock harder, his mind filling in the gaps. Orym’s face flickered in a dozen different memories. Eyes scrunching closed as he fell apart on Ashton’s cock. The triumphant look on his face when he pinned Ashton wrestling. The way his lips shone when they stole a kiss. The reassurance and security and fuck, he was so hot too. Their hand moved faster, occasionally flicking to the tip to tease the sensitive head. Better to get this over with quickly and return. They really shouldn’t be jacking off in the woods like some lovesick kid.

Orym’s eyes in the darkness, lit by the flickering pain of Ashton’s broken skull.

Ashton’s hand thrashed on his cock as the coiling heat in his gut threatened to burst.

Orym’s tongue sliding up his cock.

Orym’s subtle wink when no one was looking.

Orym’s perfect sword forms, moving in physical poetry.

Orym’s eyes filled with … Ashton suppressed the word (lovelovelovelove) as the wave of their release swept through them. They came with Orym’s name on their lips, their lungs searing with it. They spilled on the jungle floor, trembling with the aftermath.

Fucking fuck, they were so fucked.

They tucked themself away and tipped their head back against the tree they were leaning on. What the fuck were they going to do? They were in the middle of fucking nowhere. It’s not like they could just leave. They had to get over this.

Before they could consider their options, however, a piercing shriek shattered the peaceful pre dawn air.

Fuck.

Laudna. Orym.

They ran.

The world wobbled dangerously around Ashton. For a second, they thought they might collapse, but the pain that bloomed with the strike brought everything into focus again.

Or as focused as they could be, having been caught with his literal pants down with little more than a sliver of pre dawn light and the embers of a campfire to go by. Their muscles screamed as they lifted their hammer again, swinging for one of several shadowy figures that hounded them. They were everywhere and nowhere, appearing at Ashton’s side to slice at their thick skin and vanishing into nothingness when they lashed out with their weapon.

Ashton swore as their hammer scattered another into sludge and a new figure replaced it, stabbing into them. This time they did waver, crashing to their knees and clutching their shoulder where a wound gushed blood over their fingers. Fuck. Not good. But even as Ashton felt themself slipping into unconsciousness, Laudna cried out and something yanked them back. Not the glowing warmth of Letters’ healing, but something darker that pulled them back like a puppet master plucking at their strings. Whatever. They were up and swinging again.

Screams and curses and magical incantations filled the air, drowning out the irritating buzzing of bugs that Ashton had been cursing through the night. Through the chaos, Ashton heard Orym goading one of the figures in his low voice, hoarse with pain. They turned to see him step in front of Imogen, getting her out of the reach of one and raising his sword to strike. Before they could see how he fared, another foe descended on Ashton and they heaved their hammer through the thick air once more.

Time faded and bled until Ashton found himself swinging his hammer at nothing. The enemy had finally stopped. Or all been killed. They found themself unable to care, as long as it bloody well stopped. Their hammer thudded heavily to the earth and Ashton leaned on the handle as the forest swam disconcertingly around them. They blinked away the darkness that fuzzed the edges of their vision, taking in their surroundings.

Bell’s Hells seemed to be accounted for. Not all standing, but up. Imogen and Laudna leaned wearily against each other. Dorian was helping FCG get upright again. Fearne knelt, but seemed better off than Ashton felt. And sprawled in front of Fearne, Orym.

Ashton’s brain took way too fucking long to comprehend what Orym was doing there. Why Fearne held a diamond above his forehead, tears dripping onto Orym’s chestplate.

Ashton didn’t notice Letters wheel up to him until a wave of healing magic restored them. Or at least stopped him from bleeding out everywhere. They hardly noticed, transfixed at the tableau that seemed frozen in time before Ashton. It was only when Ashton’s lungs started to burn that they realized. He was waiting to see Orym’s chest rise and fall. To take in the breath Ashton was holding.

No.

Ashton’s boots thudded as they tramped back and forth across the small bedroom in the shithole of a tavern Bell’s Hells had dragged themselves to. Not satisfied by pacing, they lashed a kick out at the little chair where they had thrown all their stuff, sending spare clothes and coins scattering against the floor.

“Ash.” Orym’s quiet voice interrupted their storming. It was fucking infuriating, the way he calmly addressed them like he hadn’t fucking died today.

“What?” they spat harshly, not stopping their agitated pace.

“Ash,” Orym said again. “Come here?”

Ashton spared a glance for Orym, but looked away again just as quickly. He looked fine now, but all Ashton could see was his eyes closed and his body unmoving on the ground. They scraped their fingers across their face as if that image could ever be erased from their mind. He could feel Orym’s eyes on him.

Patient.

Ashton growled, even as they gave in and plopped down on the bed next to Orym, the mattress bowing slightly with the additional weight. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look at him yet, but Orym understood. Orym always understood.

Fuck. He was so fucked.

“Talk to me,” Orym said.

Ashton couldn’t put the words together. It was a cacophony of a thousand thoughts fighting for his attention. They could feel the tension building behind their eyes, in the pulse humming under the slag glass in their skull. A small hand gripped his forearm, bringing him back. Ashton looked up at the ceiling and choked out, “You…” They puffed their cheeks full of air before letting a shaky sigh out.

When it became clear he wasn’t going to get more, Orym finished their sentence. “Died.”

They held back a burning behind their eyes that definitely wasn’t tears and looked down at the halfling. It was easier to be angry.

“You fucking threw yourself at them!” Their voice grew steadily louder as they gained momentum. “You were barely standing and you still threw yourself in the way, where they would cut you down. You were fucking reckless, man. And you DIED!”

“It’s what I do,” Orym replied calmly. As if it were fucking rational. “I couldn’t let Imogen take those blows when I still had a shield to protect her. It’s what I always do, Ash. It’s what you do.”

Ashton scoffed. “Yeah, but–” They growled, frustrated they couldn’t pull the right words together to make him understand. “But I’m me. You’re you. You matter.”

They winced, knowing Orym wasn’t going to let that go. Sure enough, a compassionate sigh filled the silence after Ashton’s sentence and they felt the bed wobble as Orym stood. His small frame stepped up to Ashton’s side on the bed, leaning against their shoulder. A calloused hand guided their face toward Orym until they were forced to meet his gaze. Tenderly, he tilted their chin and dropped a kiss on Ashton’s mouth. “You matter, Ash.”

It took all their control to keep Orym’s gaze as the shame and guilt washed through them. They bit their lip just to stop the automatic denial that came to mind. Orym’s thumb caressed their jaw, his eyes roving over their face.

“I saw him,” he whispered. Ashton’s mind reeled as Orym shifted the conversation.

“Who?”

“Will.”

“Oh.”

Ashton struggled to follow what Orym was implying. He saw his husband. The husband he lost. The love of his life.

“And I came back,” Orym said, dropping his forehead to Ashton’s.

Green eyes bore into Ashton’s mismatched pair. It seemed impossible to Ashton, this thing Orym was saying.

“Why?” they finally dared to whisper.

“Because you matter, Ash. You matter. To me.”

“But Will–”

“Will be there. But I’m here, now. With you. You ok with that?”

Ashton felt like he was choking on something in his throat. Words that were unspeakable. So instead they just nodded, and let Orym wrap himself around their shaking frame. They weren’t sure if they’d ever be able to let him go.