The Birchin (ACOFAS fanfiction)

The Birchin

- Feyre -

The fire cracked in the hearth of the cabin. The chill from standing outside watching Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel's snowball fight earlier today was almost gone. I was curled up on the couch with Mor, who was asleep, a large, warm blanket wrapped around our bodies. I gripped the mug of mulled wine, warm in my hands, and took a sip.

The boys were in the birchin. Three Illyrian males, sitting side by side, naked and sweating. My head dizzied with the image of it, the wine not helping. I closed my eyes and couldn't help but picture it.

I knew every inch of Rhysand's body. His tan skin pulled taut across the muscles of his arms, his chest, his legs. The black ink that swirled around his broad shoulders, down his arms, on his knees. The knees that bent only for me. The size of him between his legs.

Would Cassian and Azriel look the same? Did they have the same hard, muscled bodies? I'd seen them without shirts before, glimpsed the lines of the v that led below the waistband of their pants. I'd seen their bodies move in training and in battle. I wondered how they made their giant bodies move in bed.

There's room for one more if you're interested in finding out. Rhysand's voice came down the bond.

Get out of my head.

Your thoughts are so loud, Feyre, you're practically shouting them at me.

It's this fae wine. It was only a half lie.

Maybe you need to sweat it out. Should we make room for you? His voice purred and I felt my heart beat faster.

I can't believe you'd share me with other males.

Not any males, but Cassian and Azriel know you're mine.

Why don't you just come inside? I sent him an image of me licking the sweat off his body.

You're going to get me kicked out of here. It's bad form to be at attention in the birchin.

I guess you'll have to come in then.

He paused.

Or you can come down here and take care of it. He offered.

This time he sent an image down the bond. Of him, Cassian, and Az. Their chests heaving as they breathed, sweat gleaming on their tan skin. I felt his arousal, or maybe it was mine.

Go back to your sweating. I felt him smile, then the bond went silent.

I looked around the room of the cabin, the silence, save for the crackling of the fire, now surrounding me. Mor breathed deeply on the other end of the couch.

I suddenly felt restless. Maybe I would join them for a steam. I didn't have to touch, I could just look. It would make a beautiful painting. The glorious bodies of three of the strongest Illyrian warriors. My breath hitched.

I peeled the warm blanket off myself and set down my mug on the table. The table that Rhys had splayed me out on before. At the door I slipped on my boots and coat and went out into the cold.

A trail of large footprints in the snow brought me to the birchin. An endless cloud of steam rose from the pipe in the roof. I pulled open the door. Illyrian leathers were scattered around the room. Some hung from hooks, but others littered the wood floor. It was warm in here, but not as warm as the room beyond the next door. There was no window, but I could hear their deep voices talking and laughing.

I pulled off my coat, hanging it next to Rhy's discarded clothes. I set my boots down by the door and stripped off the rest of my clothes. I quickly pulled a towel around my naked body. I would join them for the steam, but I wasn't going in naked. I paused at the door. Should I knock?