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It starts, of course, with the nickname.

"Big man." It's a nothing, thrown out amongst so many others, an obvious choice; Grog is huge, and Vax...isn't. Not, as he - and Scanlan - are quick to point out, that there is any justice in inter-race comparisons, but the fact of the matter is hard to ignore. Even for a half-elf, and even with the scant couple of inches he has on his sister, Vax is slight. It's convenient, a lot of the time, easier to slip into a shadow or pass unnoticed under the eyes of the taller and broader, but after a while getting a crick in your neck looking up at your companions gets tiring.

Of course, one didn't always have to look up at them.

---

Vax is still looking up at Grog, although for the moment he finds that he doesn't mind it all that much.

For one, he is currently looking up at everyone, or at least everyone in front of him. Even that makes him twist his fingers in the bedsheets - Percy's face, Keyleth's, looking down on him, eyes dark with want. He tries to say something smart, even alluring, but movement behind him pulls a gasp from his throat and the thought is lost. He feels - fuck, gods, he feels a small hand on his ass, a warm huff of breath, the whisper and momentary tingle of Prestidigitation and then a clever tongue starting to open him up. There's an appreciative noise from off to one side, and a chuckle that he feels rather than hears against his skin.

One hand, two, on his ass, holding him open - that's Scanlan, it has to be. Which means that the small, calloused fingertips tracing his flanks are Pike's, just firm enough that he's squirming from need rather than ticklishness. There's something comforting about the touch, grounding him even as his attention is drawn inexorably to what Scanlan's doing behind him.

Grog is sprawled in a chair before the bed, lazily stroking himself as he watches. He looks titanic from this angle; a solid wall of grey muscle, unmoved but for a twist to the corner of his mouth that betrays how much he's enjoying the display in front of him. Vax wants to climb him like a steeple.

But not yet.

Scanlan's tongue is inside him now, and he hears the soft metallic clink of a jar lid before a finger joins it. He makes a tiny, aborted noise in his chest and lets his head hang between his shoulders, staring at the dents his elbows make on the bed, the wrinkled linens under his hands. Keyleth's gentle hand tilts his chin up so he's meeting her eyes. Her lips are red and kiss-stung, and in the corner of Vax's eye he sees Percy's hand trail across her waist as he walks out of sight, into the corner of the room Vax's brain has roped off as "Vex territory."

Keyleth strokes her thumb over his cheek, a silent question, and he smiles back in reassurance, which of course is exactly the time Scanlan decides to add two more fingers.

It pulls a gasp from him, the sudden stretch of it, the feeling of being opened, bared wholly and entirely for all to see. Pike's hands are on his chest now, rough fingertips circling his nipples in distracting counterpoint. He feels the ends of her hair brush his sides.

"Good, Vax?"

Her voice is in his ear, pulling him out of himself. He can only nod, his tongue trapped behind his teeth with the noises he's not letting himself make.

A fourth finger, and Scanlan's kissing his tailbone, murmuring filth into his skin. How well he's taking it, how easily he's letting him in. How much more he'll take, before the night's out. The words feel like promises.

There's a soft rustle of fabric from the corner, and he hears a bitten-off moan from Percy. Keyleth's eyes flicker to the side and she smiles, presses her legs together almost imperceptibly.

"What does he look like?" Vax asks, a little relieved that his voice isn't wavering too much.

Keyleth bites her lip. "He's blushing all down to his chest. Eyes closed, but he keeps trying to open them to watch you. He looks...good."

He smiles at her, nods his head towards the corner. "Go on. Make him look even better."

She kisses him softly, then harder, tucking his hair behind one ear as she goes. Vax can hear Percy groan lowly as she approaches, not hesitating. He's proud of her.

Then it's Pike in front of him, still toying with his chest, bare to her waist now and flushed in a way that almost makes her glow. Grog's huge hand is on her hip, thumb rubbing circles on her side. He could fit both hands around her waist and still have room left. Vax swallows.

She cups his cheek, meeting his eyes.

"Are you ready?" she says, very quietly. He nods.

There's a brief pause, and Vax hears the jar clink again before Pike guides him towards her breasts as Scanlan slides his thumb inside him.

He's grateful for the way her skin muffles his whine, high-pitched and giddy. Gods, he feels...full, full in a way that makes him ache for more that he thinks he can't possibly take. Scanlan, the bastard, hears the noises he's making anyway, chuckling as he sinks his slender hand into the waiting heat. The joint of his thumb is almost an afterthought after he gets his knuckles in, slowly unfolding his fingers in a way that has Vax shaking against Pike's chest.

She hums soothingly in a way that he can feel more than hear, carding through the hair that's fallen out of his horsetail already. He mouths at her skin, unrefined but enthusiastic, as he tries to adjust to the magnitude of what's inside him. Her sighs, soft as they are, are almost drowned out by the trio of moans from the corner, where the sound of skin on skin suggests that Percy's cock is getting more attention than Vax's. That's probably for the best. He's got a lot less ahead of him.

Vax's shaking subsides, gradually, as he moves from overwhelmed to hungry, pressing himself back against Scanlan in unspoken demand, looking up at Pike in wordless request. Pike nods her consent, hopping off the bed to make Grog laugh with a kiss on the cheek before settling herself beside Scanlan.

Vax can feel her slicked-up fingers trace around the edge of his hole, where he's stretched around Scanlan's wrist. The touch is soft, even gentle, before she starts to press harder, one fingertip edging in alongside. There's no hesitation in her movements, no fear of breaking him, only a quiet confidence that he can take whatever they give him. Vax's toes clench, and he looks up to see a bead of precome slide down Grog's cock. Grog, whose eyes haven't left Pike since she started stretching Vax.

"Hey, big man," Vax rasps. "You impatient? Can't wait for me to be ready for you?" He schools his face into what he's pretty sure is a cocksure grin.

The corner of Grog's mouth twitches upwards as his gaze shifts towards Vax.

"Oh, you think you’re gonna be ready?” he grunts, and shoves two fingers into Vax's open mouth.

It's the hand he's had on his cock, and Vax can taste the salt on his skin, feels the slickness on his tongue as he tries to twine it around the massive digits. Two goliath fingers together are bigger than most cocks he's had in his mouth and the thought, the implications for what he's about to do, makes him tremble. His jaw aches, and he knows he's drooling, undignified and wanton and beyond caring. Pike's got two fingers in him herself now, and he can feel the tip of the third starting to breach him. It's so much. He never wants it to stop.

Pike's free hand has resumed its exploration of his sides, his back, skirting around his straining cock in a way that makes his eyes roll back in his head. She runs her nails lightly across his thighs as her third finger sinks all the way into him and the combined sensation nearly makes him choke on Grog's fingers.

Grog pulls his hand away and Vax whines needily, his mouth chasing it unconsciously before he's pulled backwards by Pike's strong hand on his legs. Grog huffs a laugh, returning his spit-slick hand to its unhurried up-and-down slide on his cock. He's as hard as Vax now, but he looks like he could let the wait go on forever. Vax fucking can't.

He looks backwards towards Pike just in time for her littlest finger to enter him, and the tiny furrow of concentration between her brows makes his heart thud painfully against his narrow ribs. Scanlan is looking at her with an expression of such devotion that it almost hurts to see, his free hand reverently tracing the sinews of her arm, her shoulder, as they shift and flex with what she's doing to Vax.

She sees him looking.

"Almost there. You still good?"

He can't speak, air punched out of him with need, with desperate affection. He nods, holding her gaze. She smiles.

“Good boy.”

It’s the praise almost as much as the feeling of her fist inside him that makes him keen, defences torn away and throat raw with panting. He’s too far gone to be embarrassed about how loud he’s being, too whelmed for pretence or artifice.

"Holy shit," he hears, and it's Keyleth, breathy and awed, still in the corner but loud enough that her voice carries across the room. "Holy shit, Vax."

There’s a moment of pause as Vax writhes, the combined girth of Pike and Scanlan’s arms splitting him wider than he thought possible. His cock jumps, still untouched, and as he looks at his hands he can see them trembling. He feels dizzy, gasping for breath, so full of sensation that he doesn’t know what to do with it.

Slowly, like sand through a glass, he comes back to himself, forces himself to breathe, to unclench his toes, to register the reassurance of Pike and Scanlan’s free hands on his sides, the short huffs of Grog’s breath in front of him. He moves his hips a little and moans reedily as he feels the hands inside him shift against his rim. Every tiny movement sends new waves of sensation through him, giving no escape from being held so open, so unremittingly, so wonderfully and terrifyingly full.

Grog takes him by the jaw.

“Think you can take me now, scrawny?” he growls, his voice like the creaking bones of the earth.

Vax can only nod deliriously, the sounds spilling out of him no longer resembling words. Grog looks over his shoulder at the gnomes, gives them a nod and a lascivious grin that has Pike laughing and Vax groaning in anticipation. He feels their arms pull slowly out of him, Scanlan’s first, slipping out past his rim and leaving him hollowed-out and empty.

He barely has a moment to adjust to the sensation before Grog’s hoisting him up, Scanlan sending him on his way with a ringing slap on his ass. Being lifted bodily in the air in a non-lethal situation is a little disconcerting, but he’s so far gone it barely registers. A second later Grog has him on his lap, clinging to his broad shoulders, legs splayed impossibly wide on either side of his hips. Grog’s cock rubs against his stomach, and he can feel his eyes widen as he looks down. It comes nearly to his bellybutton.

Fuck.

That’s his last half-way clear thought as Grog lifts him up by the ass, lines himself up, and lets gravity do the rest of the work for him.

It’s probably no thicker than Pike and Scanlan’s arms, but the speed of it, the suddenness, the length, have him choking on nothing and scrabbling at Grog’s chest. It’s a blunt instrument where the gnomes were precise, methodical, meticulous in taking him apart. Distantly he hears Percy whimpering, and the low susurrus of Vex’s voice underneath.

Grog holds him like that for a time, deep as he can go, his hands moving Vax’s hips in tiny circles. Vax rests his head on one muscled shoulder, tasting the sweat under his tongue, grounding himself as he adjusts. He realises with a start that he’d sunk all the way down in one go, no inch-by-inch progression but rather a single, overwhelming invasion. He’s so open that he’d taken the whole thing. The thought sends him giddy, his head floating and full of cotton even as the rest of him aches and squirms around Grog’s immensity.

It’s not long before he’s moving his hips on his own, grinding down onto Grog’s cock in search of friction, neck craning to kiss his throat, the hollow between his collarbones. His knees find purchase on the chair at last and he lifts himself up an inch, two, trembling from the strain and the sensation before sinking down again, feeling the air driven out of him once more.

Up again, down again, again, again, and he’s clinging to Grog’s shoulders, his thighs trembling, breath shallow and sharp in his lungs. He’s starting to think he’ll collapse before long when Grog’s vast hands wrap around his legs, fingerpoints digging into the crease of his hip. He feels himself lifted and dropped with no more effort than hefting a feather and realises dizzily that Grog’s speeding up, muscles cording as they work. It’s all he can do to stay upright, bracing himself against that broad chest in desperate, hungry need.

Grog keeps him like that for a long while, long enough that Vax can feel the bruises starting to bloom on his hips. Vax’s head is lolling back, his hair out of its tail entirely, hopelessly tousled and entirely beyond caring, beyond doing anything but taking what is being given. Distantly he hears a gasp from behind him and sees Grog’s gaze, which had been raking over his torso, shift to over his shoulder. His square face splits in a crooked grin.

Without warning, Vax is lifted again, turned around like a doll until he’s facing the bed, and what he sees makes his breath stop entirely.

Pike is radiant; hair haloed around her, chest heaving with exertion, colour high in her cheeks. Her strong hands are wrapped around Scanlan’s neck, and he’s looking up at her as if she contains all the secrets of the universe. Perhaps she does, in this moment. The noise Scanlan makes when she drives her hips down is wounded, clawing its way out of his constricted throat like a prayer. Pike smiles, soft eyes creasing at the corners, and does it again. And again.

Vax realises he’s moaning too, in strange and frantic harmony, each cant of Grog’s hips driving the breath out of him. Grog has one hand around each of his thighs and is holding them open, putting every inch of him on display, wantonly, obscenely, gloriously. He couldn’t hide himself if he tried. He’s not trying.

There’s a whisper of footfall and then Percy is in front of him, hair mussed and glasses crooked, flushed rosy down to his chest and with red splotches trailing down rather further than that. There’s a languid satiety to his limbs and a keen glint to his eyes. His voice, when he speaks, is like fire-warmed gravel.

“Have you done well, Vax? Have you taken what we gave you?”

Vax nods weakly, words and thought and shame lost to him.

 The low lamplight gleams off Percy’s glasses as he leans in, lips almost to Vax’s ear.

“Then you may have your reward.”

He wraps his hand around Vax’s cock, so long neglected, and it takes barely more than that for white to fill Vax’s vision, his orgasm taking him like waves crashing upon rock. The grip on his legs tightens and he’s distantly aware of Grog roaring behind him, his cock pulsing as he’s tipped over his own edge. Then all is light and his own deafening heartbeat, and for one endless moment there is nothing.

When he comes back to himself, it’s to Grog slowly slipping out of him as he lifts him up. The sheen of sweat on his skin is starting to dry, and there’s a chill nipping at his extremities before he’s laid on the bed and bundled in blankets by a combination of Pike and Scanlan, both moving with the absent satisfaction of the well-fucked. They settle on either side of him, radiating warmth like tiny suns.

The bed bounces as Grog flops down, his arm long enough to reach over Scanlan entirely until it’s resting on Vax’s flank. He opens his eyes blearily when he hears Pike giggle, and sees Percy tucked behind her, kissing her shoulder as behind him Vex and Keyleth walk over, hand in hand.

Two more gentle thuds onto the bed, a rustle of coverlet and a handful of whispers, and the room is still. In his blanket cocoon, Vax closes his eyes. He listens to the breathing around him – soft and even, gentle huffs, the rumbling onset of a Grog-sized snore. He’ll be sore in the morning. But right now he is warm, and he is whole, and all is well.