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Trevor watches her from across the Hold, unable to stop the smile from crossing his face. Sypha is fascinating like this, engrossed in books that she grew up with no need for, stealing down knowledge that she will eventually pass on to other generations.
He sees a particularly lurid drawing of a dick on the page she turns.
Well, maybe not everything needs to be passed on.
It certainly would explain the flush of her cheeks - which he took to be a passion for knowledge- and the way her fingertips are drumming a nervous beat on the table. Adrian is nowhere to be seen but if he was, Trevor expects he'd pick up a racing heart and a guilty turn to her breathing.
Completely forgetting what's in the book he's got open in his lap, Trevor kicks back in his seat and watches Sypha instead, the furtive flick of her eyes across each page, the tongue that flashes out to wet her lips. The hitch, momentarily, as she stutters on a breath and leans in closer to the page.
She moves to hastily turn to the next page and curses instead, pulling her hand back and frowning at the blooming redness there, blood dripping down her finger from a particularly nasty paper cut.
"Adrian!"
She calls for their third like he's a bar wench, expecting a prompt service. But the dhampir appears regardless, his confusion at being summoned turning to hunger, nostrils flaring, eyes fixed obviously on Sypha's finger.
In a phased movement the man is sitting next to her, taking a gentle grip of her wrist and drawing her hand to his mouth. He wraps his lips around her finger and sucks, gently cleaning the digit of any blood, tongue twirling around to pick up any remnants before pressing right to the cut, urging it closed with his fancy fucking vampire saliva.
And if Trevor thought Sypha was breathing heavily before—
"Shitfuck."
Ah, his beloved. Always so eloquent.
Trevor stifles a chuckle, turning back to his own book, but the continued silence of his lovers makes him look back up. And oh, that's a mistake. They're a picture of conspiracy, heads together, heated gazes, whispered thoughts.
As one they turn to Trevor, Sypha's hand still clutched in Adrian's.
"Want me to suck you too, Trevor?"
Christ.
Trevor whines, because words are difficult when you're as hard as diamond in your pants and trying not to show it.
"I think he does, Sypha. I can hear it in his pulse."
Sypha laughs, because she's the devil, leaning in and nudging Adrian's head with her own. "It would pair very nicely with this spell."
Her nail taps on the book page, drawing the dhampir's gaze away from Trevor momentarily - not that it helps his dick to calm down, because there's a flare of heat in the room (which might just be his imagination) that accompanies Adrian's snarl of hunger, entirely different to the look the man wore at the sight of Sypha's blood.
"When?"
"Well, I was thinking tonight. Most of the ingredients are here…"
Trevor frowns. "When what?"
"Tonight?" Adrian breathes, as if Trevor didn't speak. "Do you require any assistance?"
"Tonight what?"
Sypha beams, stroking a hand over Adrian's cheek. "You could look out these three for me."
Trevor's feet thunk to the floor from the table as he slams his hands on top of it, confusion and exclusion making him, in all likelihood, entirely overreact. "Fuck the both of you! Stop ignoring me."
Adrian smirks a dangerous smirk that Trevor still hasn't had enough time to not get effortlessly affected by, while Sypha turns the book so he can see precisely what has got them both so worked up.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
"Tonight." Sypha repeats, eyes sparking with heat and control that does funny things to Trevor's guts.
"Tonight." He repeats, and he's lost. So very very lost.
#
When he stops to think about it, the reality of what spell Sypha’s planning on enacting doesn’t inherently appeal. He loves her for her softness, her femininity, the warmth of her cunt and the swell of her breasts.
He watches, quietly confused and fucking turned on regardless as Sypha works her fingers at her clit, laid back against Adrian’s chest. She smells like flowers and salt and oil, from the weird mixture that the two of them had cooked up in Adrian’s mother’s lab. Trevor thought she might need to bathe in it, or drink it, but clearly he’s too goddamn innocent.
It’s a lube, plain and simple.
Her fingers are slick as they move with confident strokes, Adrian’s fangs playing over the skin of her shoulders, marking it red but never quite breaking the skin. Trevor wants to interrupt, to involve himself in something he has not even the slightest comprehension of. But to speak would risk halting Sypha’s rambling, breathless invocations, words and words tumbling from her lips, Adrian encouraging through his actions, his support.
Trevor can’t help but stare, because he’s a red-blooded male and his lovers are putting on quite the fucking act, but when the purple glyphs start to form beneath her fingers he is enraptured, gaze flicking between her face (twisted in pleasure) and her cunt (beginning to shift as she comes undone).
She shudders, crying out, Adrian’s arm tightening around her waist and Trevor thinks, for a moment, that she might be hurt. Or that it hasn’t worked. One or the other, but neither turn out to be true, as her hand falls away and her body just changes, and all too soon there’s a shimmering glyph-encircled dick stretching out from her body.
“Fuuuuuck.” Trevor whimpers. “That’s hot. That shouldn’t be hot.”
Adrian chuckles, his hand sliding down her side to press his palm to her lower belly, close to the curving tip of her conjured erection. Sypha gives a soft moan, reaching down to touch herself and then hissing, pulling away with a jerk.
“How…” She gasps. “How do you cope with this?”
Trevor can feel the wickedness of his smirk but can’t even begin to fight it, crawling towards them to lay on his stomach between her legs. He ducks his head to lick a stripe up her that leaves her cursing, pushing at his shoulders.
“Trevor.” She grimaces, her dick jumping. “We have one shot at this. I love you but don’t fucking touch me.”
Adrian’s laughter is warmth as he nips at her throat, shooting Trevor a conspiratorial smile.
Now she understands, it says. How can we exploit that?
Oh but it is a pure fucking delight to share Sypha with Adrian. To gang up on her, to undo her as she so effortlessly undoes them, to leave her shivering and shaking and pushing them away before it all gets too much. A silent agreement passes between them that it’s only her being under this influence of this spell that means they won’t risk turning her into a puddle of blissed-out, fucked-out goo.
Her breathing is deep and measured, in the same way as she gets when readying a spell. She smiles, turning her head towards Adrian and humming to herself. "Open him for me won't you?"
Trevor's belly swoops, chin lifting to look up at the dhampir as his eyes go wide, his fangs glinting in the low light of the bedroom. Adrian's never done this before, as far as he knows. It could be a disaster.
But fuck, he's studied anatomy at his mother's side, he's watched Sypha enough times. He knows. He'll do it right.
Trevor growls through a nervous tremble in his throat and settles back, leaning on his elbows and quirking an eyebrow in invitation.
Adrian looks at him like he wants to devour him, wants to phase quickly to cover him and steal his mouth for frantic kisses. But that would leave Sypha sprawled and disorientated without his support, so the dhampir's chosen action is calmer, settling her up against the pillows before descending on Trevor and kissing him deep enough to cut the hunter’s tongue on his fangs.
Trevor hums, breathing deeply and watching as Adrian kisses a path down his chest, leaving little swirls of blood in the saliva that paints his skin.
It's hardly the first time Trevor Belmont has been anticipating the feel of fingers in his ass. A mere year ago he wouldn't have considered it a point of pride, but that Trevor was a fucking idiot, insecure and inexperienced. Once you've had a woman two fingers deep with her mouth around your dick, such delusions tend to be revealed for exactly what they are.
Adrian is hesitant in approaching the act in a way that Sypha has never been, but Trevor suspects it's for good reason right up to the moment he feels the first press of Adrian's slick finger. Then he knows for sure.
He's never mocking the man for his slender hands again.
Sypha's touch is nothing compared to the stretch of even one digit. Trevor's head falls back, shooting a moan at the ceiling as his dick throbs in confused arousal and Adrian huffs out a breath that catches on the slick gathering at his tip.
The sole comfort is that he won’t be surprised by a sudden flare of heat or cold if thisone of his lovers is feeling feisty. Instead he has to contend with Adrian panting desperate breaths against his dick as the dhampir watches Trevor slowly open.
“Adrian…” Trevor gasps, shuddering when the dhampir crooks his finger a little deeper. “Stop fucking teasing.”
Adrian hides a smile in the rise of his thigh muscle and bares the fangs that so arouse and confuse Trevor, which is at least better than them being anywhere near his dick.
“That is hardly my intention.” Adrian hums, as if he’s not affected by this at all, smoothly applying more oil to his hand and circling two digits now like some kind of goddamn prodigy at fingering assholes.
“Not fair.” Trevor groans, feeling Sypha reach out to tangle a hand in his hair, apparently having got a handle on herself.
“It’s perfectly fair.” Adrian smiles. “What’s not fair is expecting me to be this close to your femoral without losing my head.”
Trevor considers this for all of two seconds before snarling, peering down at Adrian and pulling Sypha’s hand forward sharply. “Who said you had to?”
Adrian’s eyes light up with something dangerous and hungry and by rights it should make Trevor want to run run run but no one told his dick that, the traitor jerking and leaving a trail of slick across Adrian’s hand.
It’s slow, the extending of his fangs and the red-tinge of his eyes, Adrian giving the chance for a change of mind. Trevor grits his teeth, torn between the scissoring of Adrian’s fingers and the wet heat of Adrian’s mouth and the scratch of Sypha’s nails on his scalp.
“Fucking do it, vampire.”
At some point in his life Trevor will regret always pointlessly goading others into actions that have unforeseen consequences.
But it is not this day.
The world goes white behind his eyelids, his heartbeat pulsing in his ears when Adrian’s fangs break the skin of his leg, right where he’s always always known to protect in a fight. And here he is, baring it to a pretty boy with magic fingers because he trusts him or some shit.
The steady aching throb of blood leaving his leg is nothing compared to the euphoria that fills his entire being. His body doesn’t know what to focus on so goes entirely limp instead, submissive and greedy. He feels like he’s floating, grounded only by the touch of his lovers.
Crying out, he feels Adrian’s tongue lapping at his leg alongside a crest of something impossible in his core, a flood of feeling that’s somehow not accompanied by any splattering of come or feeling of relief for his flushed, hardened dick.
He came… but he didn’t?
“Whuthfuuh...”
Sypha’s laughter lights on the air, dangerous and heady. “Congratulations, Adrian. Even I’ve not managed to render him incoherent.”
They’re talking about him but he can’t parse it over the harsh vibrating of his inner ear, the shivering of his skin and the fucking painful curve of his dick, weeping and desperate for someone to just goddamn touch him.
He feels a tongue along the point where he had just fed his lover, the sweet tug of blood no longer present, and the flush of Adrian’s cheek against his inner thigh. The other man must be beet red given the temperature of the skin pressed to his but Trevor’s eyes aren’t strictly working and he doesn’t dare look down to see for fear of never being able to get the image out of his damn head.
He manages to peer blearily when Sypha drapes herself over him, breasts against his chest and dick against his dick and he can’t help but laugh, utterly lost and overwhelmed by this whole fucking ordeal.
Sypha’s hands cup his cheeks gently, brow knit together in concern. “Is this okay? Are you okay Trevor?”
He nods, swallowing down any lingering hysteria and setting his jaw defiantly. “You think I’d miss this chance?”
There's a purity to the way her face lights up at his assurance that is immediately offset by the way she grinds down against him, eyes falling shut as she moves, ruts, seeks out stimulation in a completely new way.
Her nails bite into his shoulders as she shifts to slip between his legs, fetching up the bottle of oil from where it was earlier abandoned. “Spread for me, handsome. Let’s see how well Adrian did.”
The nudge of her dick at his ass, warm and solid and so different to what she’s used on him before, sends his already blood-deficient head spinning wildly. A hand curls under the base of his skull and it takes a moment to realise it’s Adrian, keeping him steady, grounding him.
“Spell didn't scrimp, huh?” Trevor mutters, rather than confronting the warm flood of emotion that arises in his chest from Adrian’s gentle regard for him.
“Don't be a baby.” Sypha breathes on shaky exhales as she fills him. “It's no bigger than the strap…”
Trevor just barely makes out a sound of interest from beside him, Adrian reacting to that reveal with curiosity. It's hardly like they've hidden it, he's just not the type to go around shouting about being railed by his—.
“Stop thinking.” Sypha hisses, eyes screwed shut. “I can hear it from here. Just feel.”
He's more than happy to give over then, the first drag of Sypha's dick out of him tugging at his gut like a visceral loss. But she's there again a moment later, pushing in and colouring the air with curses in a hundred languages.
Trevor wonders, for a moment, whether somewhere down the line Adrian will ever move in him like this, fangs at his throat, nails gripping his hips. Dracula’s son spearing him, the last of the goddamn Belmonts, until he’s desperate and begging…
Sypha groans, feeling him clench and shooting him a glance that says she knows, precisely, where his thoughts are at. It shouldn’t work so well for him to have her read him like a book. But it allows her to know exactly how to move, and when, and how hard to take him and he’s shivering beneath her quick enough, feeling her pulse within him at his submission.
“Adrian.” Sypha hums, reaching out a hand that the dhampir grasps quickly, fingers twining together. “Feel free to get involved.”
Adrian looks effortlessly handsome, always, but there’s something about him wearing naked hunger on those perfect features that absolutely does Trevor in. He’s dimly aware of Sypha nodding her head on an in-thrust, smiling warmly through a withdraw and then Adrian growls, licks his lips and—
"Oh Jesus fucking Christ almighty."
Trevor whines, a nasally unpleasant sound that doesn’t convey exactly how incredible it feels to have Adrian’s tongue tracing the vein underneath his dick, wet heat fading to cool in the air as the dhampir cleans the frankly embarrassing amount of slick from his overheated skin.
Trevor reaches down, just about conscious of the massaging pressure of Adrian’s fingers at the back of his neck, and buries one hand thick in the fall of golden strands across his belly, fisting it tight when Adrian’s lips encircle the head of his dick.
Adrian’s relative inexperience at this act doesn’t show, or isn’t noticeable above the screaming pleasure that is being completely at the mercy of his lovers. The other man is a quick study, and Trevor and Sypha have given him plenty to learn from over the weeks since their return. Adrian minds his teeth, works his tongue and moans in shuddering vibrations that make Trevor want to die, right fucking there.
(If you’d asked him an hour ago if he wanted Adrian’s fangs anywhere near his dick, Trevor would have laughed. Life has a funny way of coming at you.)
Sypha’s angled herself differently to give their third room to work, and it only drives her deeper inside him, the tip of her brushing over that incredible spot and lighting him the fuck upfrom the inside out.
She's trying to make it last, he can tell, but the lack of familiarity with how to hold off an orgasm when dealing with a dick is more overwhelming than she can manage. With a twist of her hips and a high, aching cry Sypha spills inside him and oh, it's ten different kinds of incredible.
Is this how Adrian felt, their first time together? That creeping sense of being owned, claimed? Sypha strokes her hands over his thighs, her dick shrinking from his body with a haste that's nothing but supernatural. Kneeling between his legs, she presses her fingers to the hint of Adrian's bite and smirks through her afterglow to massage it in time with the rise and fall of Adrian's head.
Trevor watches her face as she watches his dick, enjoys the glassy turn to her adoring gaze and melts in it, floating away on the heat of Adrian's tongue as he comes, harder and longer than he can recall ever having lost himself before.
He's not aware of how much time passes before he opens his eyes to Adrian daintily smoothing his thumb over the corners of his mouth, sucking the digit into his mouth to clean it.
"I had no idea you would be so…" He smirks, all danger and confidence and not at all like someone who regrets having just had a mouthful of come. "Effusive."
Trevor swats at him, ineffectual. "Fuck off."
He realises the other man is going to kiss him before he can think about what that might be like, the quick swipes of Adrian’s tongue against his lips all too easy to give into. It’s not entirely unpleasantto taste himself, it makes his already oversensitised dick give a weak pulse against his belly, and it’s all he can do to reach down and take the dhampir in hand, working his wrist in quick motions.
Adrian growls, covered in goosebumps and Trevor’s own scent, rocking his hips into the stimulation until he can’t hold on, coming with a grunt all over Trevor’s stomach.
Sypha’s the first to talk, breaking through their fog with her beautiful soft voice...
“Oh, Trevor. Look at the state of you…”
The mixture of concern and pride in her tone makes him look down at himself, Adrian following his gaze and giving a soft sort of laughing moan at the way he’s painted with blood, sweat and spend. He looks utterly used and it stirs his guts up just right.
“What else is in that book?” He asks, in lieu of any other sensible thing to say.
Sypha laughs, falling down beside him and linking her hand with Adrian’s, drawing them to rest on Trevor’s chest. He thinks he hears the dhampir mutter insatiable or something like it, as if the three of them aren’t fucking on for one another constantly. But he takes the high road, for once in his miserable life, and smirks to himself until the urge to snipe fades, his lovers drifting into a lazy nap in his arms.
Which is all well and good, but they aren’t fucking covered in bodily fluids and aching like they’ve fought a horde of night creatures.
“Bath.” He demands, shifting his shoulders until they grumble and push away from him. “Bath before sleep, I beg of you.”
Sypha grins at Adrian, crawling from the bed and wandering naked out of the room, safe in the knowledge that each of them are watching her go.
And then without warning he’s being hefted up into Adrian’s arms and carried, bridal style, out of the bedroom.
“I don’t fucking accept this.” He mutters, crossing his arms over his chest but making absolutely no effort to move.
Adrian grins, fangs catching on his lip, not even slightly breaking stride on his way after Sypha. “Luckily, you don’t have to.”
Fucker.