Chapter Text
Before he was Caleb Widogast, he was a boy with love in his heart.
Wulf was the first who ever called him beautiful , a word that warmed him better than any spell. As Bren Aldric Ermendrud--a prodigy of the Empire--he’d blushed in the dark of his student’s quarters, embarrassed. That wasn’t something he was supposed to be. Not beautiful. The softness that made his soldier father worry was to be curbed. Hidden. Clipped from view.
Wulf and Astrid only wanted to watch him soar.
He was pressed between them, held from behind by Astrid’s lithe, eager arms. Eadwulf’s broad hands circled his waist. He straddled Wulf’s hips where he leaned against the headboard, rocking in time with the older boy’s motions, grinding against the heat that slowly pressed inside.
He groaned low in his chest as Astrid stroked him deftly. Her mouth was hot on his neck, her soft chest pressed against his sweat-damp back, dropping sharp kisses that pricked with the hint of teeth. She and Wulf found a rhythm that kept him suspended between sensations--chasing the deeper pleasure of Eadwulf inside him, careful not to pull away from Astrid’s teasing grip.
Wulf looked up at him. “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful, Bren.”
He heard the amusement in Astrid’s tone, her self-satisfied hum before she asked, “And what am I, then?”
“Striking. Powerful. A force of nature.”
Astrid’s laughter rumbled against his back. He turned his head to smile at her, catching her wink and the lovely light in her eyes, reflecting from the dim spell around them. “Flatterers. The both of you.”
Astrid trailed her nails in patterns down his spine and he shivered. She looked over his shoulder and caught Wulf’s eye. “He really is though, isn’t he? Like something plucked from a painting.”
Caught between the two, with nowhere to escape the feelings in his chest, Bren stopped trying to support his own weight and allowed Astrid to carry them both. Wulf thrust gently upward, digging thumbs into his hips to hold him close, and before Bren could stop himself the truth spilled over his lips.
“I…I love you both. Scheisse, I can’t help it.”
“Good,” said Eadwulf, reaching up from the bed. He wrapped them all in arms that were ever gaining scars. “Because we’re all we’ve got.”