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Chapter Text

The Waltzer was rumoured to be the Ashaan Fleet’s most luxurious vessel, and Gale Dekarios: the Wizard of Waterdeep; former Chosen of Mystra; Magical Prodigy and apparent collector of titles, had paid accordingly for his ticket. Despite this, the wizard found himself greeted with an empty dock upon his arrival, a telltale lantern atop a mast flickering in the distance against the blanket of awakening stars.

Having arranged his crossing through a fleet representative, Gale had requested that the galleon’s captain await his arrival that he assumed would be tardy due to his creaking joints and tiring sojourn; the captain had clearly not been interested in this request.

“Oh, for the love of…” Gale muttered, from the water’s edge, setting down his bag and desperately wishing he could simply reach out and touch the ghostly sails of the Waltzer, “has Mystra got any other misfortunes to send my way?”

On many a past occasion, he had simply waved his hands in just the right way, spoken an incantation or two, and he was able to transport himself via his command of the Weave. Since the Netherese Orb had made its home in his chest, he found himself reluctant to flex his casting muscles for the vice the foreign magic held around his very being. Dark brows knitted together in thought as he stewed on his own ineptitude, though he became increasingly aware of light, swift steps approaching from behind, bursting through the gate.

“Out of my way, fool!” A sharp voice demanded in what Gale could identify as an aristocratic Baldurian accent, a lithe body striding past him in a streak of silver and deep blue, “some of us have a boat to…oh. Well, shit.”

The wizard couldn’t help the smirk that painted his lips at the snappy stranger’s realisation, having bristled slightly at being brushed aside. "I rather thought the same,” Gale noted with a short huff of laughter, his chestnut gaze settling on the man that had so rudely interrupted his own frustrations, “It would appear we are both in the same proverbial boat.”

“Oh, so you’re a funny guy, hm? That’s just what I need!” The unfamiliar man hissed, turning on his heel to face him, head held high- Gale was slightly taken aback to see that the stranger was a high elf, sharp crimson eyes staring him down with clear disdain. He noticed how the elf’s deep blue and dark red padded armour shimmered with elegant gold detailing, his trousers emblazoned with more subtle leaf design that was still clearly a fashion choice; the stranger's attire implied that he was used to a certain lifestyle that likely didn’t often include walks through the mountains, though the dagger at his waist demonstrated a degree of preparation at least.

“When the occasion calls for it,” Gale quipped, ignoring the harshness of the other’s tone in favour of studying angular features, noting how his skin had a distinctly otherworldly pallor even under the warmth of the dock’s lantern lights, “Gale Dekarios.”

“Well, I could say the same to you!” The elf snapped, deep red glare searing into the burnt umber gaze that Gale returned with a bemused look, unflinching under clear scrutiny.

“No, that’s not- I mean to say that my name is Gale, of Waterdeep,” he chuckled dryly, shaking his head, “and you are…?”

“Not interested,” the elf declared with a flourish that waved Gale’s words away, stepping back past him to leave the wharf through the aged gate, though he paused mid-stride with a sigh, “do you know where I might find the local Ashaan Fleet office, perchance?”

The wizard tutted; of course the elf would be looking for the office too, but he reluctantly considered the possibility that searching alongside the stranger would likely yield better results than alone. “I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest of clues, but I do find myself seeking them out too after this blunder,” he muttered, rubbing a hand across his unkempt beard. “The captain was instructed to await my arrival before casting off.”

“Oh?” The pale man quirked a strong silver brow, lips pursing, “and what exactly makes you so special?”

With a huff, Gale went to explain, but gave pause to better compose himself- and find a suitable way to phrase it without spilling the entire sordid story. “I happen to be someone of great renown and immense power, but admittedly I’ve been humbled quite dramatically of late,” Gale lamented with a thin smile in spite of himself. “Listen: the way I see it, we both need to find the local fleet representative, a halfling named Imarfen, so we might as well seek the office out together- there’s no telling what dangers are waiting for us out here at night.”

“Oh, I can promise there are few more dangerous than me out here,” the silver haired elf scoffed, his expression shifting to something almost…predatory, “you know, I was rather hoping to indulge in a little bite onboard, but a hermit wizard in the wilds will have to-“

“Now wait just a moment, let’s not do anything rash here,” Gale warned sharply, glowering as he summoned a fireball in his hand, standing his ground. “If my fate is to be eaten on this road, it certainly won’t be by a rude, scrawny elf,” the scholar huffed, flexing his fingers around the fire in clear warning, trying to buy himself a moment to try and discern the reason an elf would seek to devour him; the stranger had grown quite talkative, so he considered that simply keeping him talking was a viable option. “And why would you try to consume a man anyway?” Gale enquired, his spare hand drifting to grasp his quarterstaff, “your people aren’t traditionally cannibalistic towards fellow humanoids.”

He studied the elf, flame mote still at the ready, considering the unnerving strangeness that practically radiated from the elegant form. “Not traditionally,” the other man agreed with a smirk, taking a calculated step closer. “I wonder, little wizard, how do-“

“Oh for the love of Mystra herself, stop with the depravity, you deranged thing! I’ll find a way to help us both with this ship debacle, if you just calm down,” Gale muttered, releasing his staff to hold up a hand in a peaceful gesture; despite how frustrated the wizard was growing, he still wished to reason with the elf more than he wanted to roast him alive. Muttering as he scoured his mental library of spells and cantrips, Gale settled on a relatively safe option that wouldn’t be too taxing on the orb in his chest. Eyeing the elf, he took a moment to consider what manner of madness afflicted the stranger, dwelling on the crimson eyes and pale skin with a growing sense of dread.

“Have anything in mind or are you just buying precious seconds with your rambling?”

“A sending spell,” Gale confirmed with a nod, shaking off his unease as best he could, feigning confidence, “I shall cast a message to Imarfen and demand he find me- us, another ship. Granted, of course, that you don’t decide to eat me.”

“Well, well, it seems that you do have your uses,” the man sighed, a small pout on chiselled lips, “I suppose I’ll have to find my meal elsewhere.”

“You are certainly an odd one; I have some Waterdhavian cheese in my pack if that’s the price of stopping your threats, elf,” Gale muttered, eyeing the elf with caution.

“Oh! No, that’s not necessary,” he chuckled, as though he was telling a joke that Gale wasn’t privy to, “Astarion. My name is Astarion.”

“A pleasure, I assure you,” Gale said with a forced smile, dismissing the fireball that had been heating his hand but keeping the spell on the tip of his tongue, “give me but a moment and I’ll send the message- do not even think of attacking me once this is sent; my magic comes with a uniquely powerful dead man’s switch.”

“Oh, I would never!” Astarion gasped, a hand over his chest in mock horror, “well, I would, but not today. You have my word.”

The wizard did not dignify the elf with a response, instead focussing his mind on a short message to spirit away to Imarfen. ‘Waltzer left without myself and another passenger, Astarion. We require assistance and passage aboard another vessel. Post haste, if you please,’ read the message, noted in as few words as Gale could manage.

The reply was instantaneous: ‘Understood. Sorry. Sending wagon to collect you both from dock.’

“We’re in luck, my unconventional fellow,” Gale beamed, tone victorious, “I’ll not tell you the details for my own safety, given your propensity for odd threats, but rest assured that assistance is coming.”

“Oh good, I’ll just trust my fate to some two-gold magician,” Astarion groaned, frowning out across the water.

“Wizard,” Gale corrected, just about managing to keep the offence from his voice, “and at any rate, I’d suggest that I’m worth at least three gold.”

“Prove it,” Astarion replied, eyeing the human with a raised brow, “surely a wizard worth any gold at all should be able to manage a simple Dimension Door spell for us both- or is your skull too thick to come up with that idea on your own?”

Gale opened his mouth to retort, but found himself simply sighing instead; this strange elf was impossible.

“Well, don’t go all quiet on me now, Gale,” he taunted with a cruel grin as he felt the wizard’s armour falling apart, “what’s wrong now? Tressym got your tongue, perhaps?”

“Oh, if my tressym friend could see what’s become of me, she’d certainly catch more than my tongue,” Gale half-laughed, closing his eyes; he wondered how could he ever face her again with the mess he’d made of late.

Astarion remained silent for a moment, watching the mage, observing his change in demeanour and the heavy sadness within him. “What’s her name?” He enquired, so softly that for a moment Gale questioned whether he’d imagined it, until he reiterated, “your tressym, what’s her name?”

“Oh! Tara…she’s Tara,” he replied, eyes brightening at the thought of her soft fur and perpetually ruffled feathers that paired well with her stern yet caring manner, “she’s very much her own tressym though- she just chooses to grace me with her presence.”

“How very feline of her,” the elf scoffed, lowering himself to sit on the side of the dock, legs hanging high above the water. He nodded his head in invitation for Gale to join him.

The wizard looked down at Astarion, considering his options, and elected to join him given that the elf had stopped trying to intimidate him for the time being- and if he shoved him in the water at least he was a strong swimmer. Crouching to sit aside the elf, Gale’s knees clicked and popped at the effort, pulling a groan from him and a genuine laugh from Astarion. “Forgive my creaking joints- I fear my age is rather catching up with me,” Gale winced, rubbing his knees through violet robes.

“Hah, try complaining about that when you reach my age!” The elf snorted, openly mocking the human, “not that my bones have anything to moan about.”

“And how old would that be, exactly?” Gale quipped, pursing his lips.

“Excuse me?” The elf gasped, covering his mouth in scandal, “and I thought you were a gentleman wizard.”

“Oh, you are a pain to deal with, do you know that?” Gale sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Says the wizard with no magic!” He snapped, jumping up from his perch, “how am I supposed to trust that you actually sent that message spell? The only evidence I’ve seen of any power is a little fireball that you didn’t even fully cast- even I can do that!”

“I’m too tired to play this game of push and pull with you, Astarion,” Gale sighed, leaning back on his elbows, “I’ve got a rather complicated magical condition- one that I fear will degrade under the stress that channeling the Weave puts on my body. I’m not talentless- far from it, I’m simply…unwell at present. Can you understand that and stop pestering me?”

“Hm,” came the elf’s reply, a frown marring handsome features as he thought deeply for a moment. “Your message from the representative- did it mention when the next ship will take us?”

“Oh, right,” Gale started, surprised at the lack of scathing comment at the magic that seethed within him, or an acknowledgment at the very least. “No, he has given no detail pertaining to the replacement vessel, only that a cart-“

“I can only travel at night,” Astarion interrupted, a hint of disdain colouring his tone, “I happen to have something of a tricky affliction myself.”

That abrupt little tidbit of information sealed the deal for Gale, the evidence speaking for itself in his mind. He sighed internally; surely it was Mystra’s cruel version of humour to have him stuck in the middle of nowhere with a snarky, hungry vampire. The human remained quiet, however, watching Astarion hesitate: he seemed truly uncertain and vulnerable for the first time in Gale’s presence, making it clear that at least part of his bold character was a carefully crafted facade.

Biting his lip with a pearly fang, Astarion crouched down and carefully moved his deep maroon collar aside to expose a column of marble flesh, the smoothness of his skin interrupted only by a pair of glaringly obvious puncture scars.

“Ah, I thought as much,” Gale sighed, nodding and restraining the growing dread he felt gazing into crimson irises, “well, I can assure you that your vampirism is no bother to me at all- as long as you can keep your hunger restrained. The cart should be here soon, and then we can negotiate a suitable vessel for your journey under cover of darkness.”

The elf blinked at him in clear surprise at Gale’s calm, thoughtful response to his revelation. “You’re far more reasonable than I expected,” he muttered, a frown settling on his brow as he regarded the wizard skeptically.

“Ah, ‘unexpectedly reasonable’- now that’s a label I can be proud of,” Gale laughed, finding the elf’s indignation on the matter strangely endearing.

“Well, I’m used to being shunned, feared, ridiculed, hunted; I admit I’m not certain how to handle it when someone reacts more…favourably,” Astarion shrugged, half a smile dancing across his sharp features, “there’s hardly any point in playing the role of monster anymore, is there?”

“Would you feel better if I ran screaming?” Gale suggested with a smirk.

“You know, you’re not actually terrible company,” Astarion laughed, the rich sound flowing over Gale’s brain in an unexpectedly pleasant manner, like warm water over one's scalp on a cool evening.

The wizard let out an amused breath, not quite a laugh, glad that the highly strung vampire appeared to be calming down.

The elf’s ears twitched, head tilting to the side as he listened to something Gale could not yet hear. “Come on, our ride is here,” he announced, straightening up easily and hesitantly offering a hand to help Gale up, which was taken gratefully. The human found himself having to suppress a flinch at the glacial chill of Astarion’s undead flesh.

Returning to the dirt path outside the dock building, they were greeted by the sight of an elderly ox pulling a dilapidated cart towards them. “Is it just me or do we have a missing driver?” The elf asked with a quirk of his silver brow.

“Please, allow me to handle this,” Gale said, already searching his bag for a specific potion.

“Adept at cow negotiations, are we?” Astarion snorted, waving the wizard to proceed.

Finally locating his potion of animal speaking, Gale uncorked the stag head stopper and gulped the liquid down in one. “Right, my apologies for my lack of bovine vocabulary,” Gale addressed the bored- looking ox, “am I correct in assuming that yourself and this cart were sent be-“

“‘M not paid to talk, mate,” the bullock huffed, surprising Gale with his abrupt manner, “jus’ get you and your man on the wagon so we can go.”

“Oh, well, of course, much obliged,” the wizard smiled, brow twitching at the effort of keeping himself reasonably calm in favour of lecturing the animal on the common practice of good manners., “Astarion, he’ll take us where we need to go.”

“Hm, you must have a way with words,” the vampire chuckled, hopping up the side of the wagon easily ahead of the human with achey joints, “I’m yet to see much evidence of that myself.”

“I’m sure that you’ll realise soon enough that my lexicon is quite legendary,” Gale scoffed, hauling himself up with an undistinguished grunt.

“Yes, I’m sure the women of Waterdeep swoon at the sound of your voice,” the elf snickered, reluctantly offering his new acquaintance a hand to balance himself- Gale resisted the urge to name-drop one particular woman he'd attracted and just nodded his thanks, withholding the shiver that ran down his spine at the frigid skin of the vampire. He had barely gotten settled before the cart began to move, juddering as worn wheels bumped over rocks.

The journey wasn’t terrible; Astarion was quiet for the most part which gave Gale time to think. Being in such close proximity to the vampire brought him to the realisation that he could smell the delicate floral fragrance that he wore, layered over a deep musty scent that he assumed was au naturel- either way, it made his mouth water in a manner he found scandalous. He was aware that this was an odd thing to enjoy in his current travelling companion, but he’d always been something of an olfactory connoisseur; he had enjoyed many long days in Mystra’s domain spent simply enveloped in such sensual delights.

“You’re quite sure that this is taking us to the Ashaan office rather than our untimely deaths?” Astarion asked with just a hint of a nervous laugh, snapping Gale from his thoughts, “what did the cow say?”

“Well, he’s quite the tight-lipped fellow so I fear this could go either way,” Gale teased, though corrected himself at the elf’s visible discomfort, “yes, he’s taking us to meet with Imarfen.”

“Hm, well if things start seeming suspicious, at least I can drain him and stop looking at your neck like it’s dinner,” Astarion joked, tension dropping slightly from his shoulders.

“There’s somethin’ very wrong with your boyfriend,” the ox huffed as he lugged the wagon, its weathered wood creaking with effort, “‘s not far now, then you can piss off.”

Despite the brash nature of the comment, Gale felt his cheeks flush slightly at the concept of having a more personal relationship with Astarion; alas, he cleared his throat and shook the thought from his mind as quickly as it came. “Excellent customer care,” the wizard muttered. “In any case, Astarion is not my lover, he’s-“

“Excuse me? Did the cow just imply that I would ever date a wizard? Absolutely not!” Astarion cackled through his offence, “unless, perhaps, there is a couples’ upgrade for the next ship- a nice gift basket with wine and chocolates perhaps.”

He screwed up his face, uncertain whether the elf was joking. “I highly doubt that, and what’s wrong with being romantically involved with a wizard? I’ll have you know that we make exceptionally imaginative, generous lovers- myself included!” Gale snapped, gritting his teeth at Astarion’s insinuation, “anyway, the ox said we’re not far now.”

“Hm, I’ll believe that when I see it,” the elf muttered.

Gale wasn’t certain which part of his rant he was responding to, but a dim lantern in the distance signalled their arrival in some semblance of civilisation, the animal’s steps picking up speed for the final stretch towards a small house with a sign dangling precariously from the eaves. “Finally,” Gale sighed in relief, slowly extending his arms upwards with a groan, “allow me to do the talking, as it were. I’ll see what I can do to arrange our passage with your…aversion to sunlight in mind.”

Astarion gave no reply, simply waited until the cart ground to a halt and jumped off, making his way ahead to the door.

“No tip?” The ox grumbled, eyeing Gale, “do you ‘ave any idea how heavy your arses are?”

“Your attitude is even more exhausting than his,” the mage sighed, leaving the surly ox behind to join the vampire where he waited. “Just go on in- he’s expecting us,” Gale pointed out, pushing the door open ahead despite Astarion’s frown, “I’ll take the lead on this; I’ve already spoken with him on multiple occasions in any case both through letter and sending spell.”

Gale trudged into the cramped room, separated from the next area by a low counter towards the back, upon which a blond haired halfling leant from the other side, playing with an amulet and glancing up expectantly at the wizard’s arrival. “Welcome, master Dekarios,” he greeted the human, though he tilted his head with his lips pursed in something that Gale thought reminiscent of disappointment, “I believe you detailed that you had a plus-one…”

“Gale!” Astarion hissed in hushed irritation, “would you please invite me in?”

"Hm? One moment if you please, Imarfen," Gale said apologetically, then glanced over his shoulder in bewilderment, taking in how the elf was lingering awkwardly in the front doorway, unable to cross the threshold, “why…oh! My apologies, Astarion- I didn’t even think,” he replied in a rushed whisper, kicking himself for his lapse of consideration for the vampire, “please come in, you are wholeheartedly welcomed into this establishment- more than welcome, in fact, you are-“

“‘Come in’ works perfectly well,” Astarion muttered with a roll of his eyes, walking past him, “I don’t need the whole speech.”

“Oh, right,” Gale noted, sheepish, and moved to approach the counter and speak with the fleet rep, “my apologies for that, he got snagged on something.”

“Master Dekarios and Astarion,” he greeted them with a nod, necklace jangling against a buckle on his red and gold robe, “you have my -and the company’s- sincerest apologies for the Waltzer’s departure without you.”

“I appreciate-“

“Apologies? What are we supposed to do with apologies?” Astarion snapped over Gale’s more diplomatic response, marching towards the smaller man, “some of us have lives to get back to and sensitive travel conditions to work with!”

“I did say I’d do the talking here,” Gale muttered to Astarion with a glare into the back of his head of annoyingly perfect curls, “I am very sorry about him; he gets terribly irate when hungry. Now, my good man, are you able to assist in procuring us a new passage to Baldur’s Gate?”

“I…yes, of course, sir,” Imarfen confirmed with an oddly mischievous smile, “The Terran, another of the Ashaan Fleet’s impressive flagships, is due at midday- I can arrange your passage aboard this ship instead with no fee, given that the Waltzer didn’t wait for you.”

“That sounds- ah, Astarion here can only travel at night due to a severe case of photosensitivity,” Gale explained, noting the way the vampire stiffened at the mention of the timing, “the sunlight gives the poor fellow crippling headaches, you see.”

“Right, I understand,” the halfling mumbled, already having started flicking through his worn logbook, “The Carapace arrives at sunset tomorrow- it’s considerably smaller and less luxurious, as it's a cargo steamer, but she's faster than a galleon and still an impressive ship to be sure. Will that suit you both?”

Gale considered pointing out that they didn’t necessarily need to be on the same boat, but after a long walk and a stressful evening he was more than happy not to get up early.

“Well, it may not have the title or presence of a galleon like the Waltzer, but I suppose it will have to do,” Astarion sighed, playing with a loose silver curl.

“Is there somewhere nearby to stay the night?” Gale asked, glad to have finally settled the matter of the ship, though he craved a night’s rest.

“Ah…well, the issue on that front is that the inn burned down last week- tragic affair really,” Imarfen admitted with a grimace, “you’re welcome to stay here though, there’s a bed in the back.”

The halfling aimed a thumb over his shoulder as he continued, “your boarding passes are here on the desk for you; I’m heading home for a couple of days so you’re welcome to stay until the Carapace docks. Don’t worry about locking up- there’s no one around to steal anything, and nothing to steal but papers.” He summoned a portal with a fleeting smile and a wink, his amulet shining in the magical light, the face of a woman with wild curls flashing on the metal briefly.

“Wait!” Gale called out, noting the air of cleric magic radiating from the shimmering doorway, “would you be willing to simply portal us to Baldur’s Gate?”

“Ah, I’m afraid not: the Ashaan Fleet’s public liability policy forbids the magical transport of passengers,” he apologised halfheartedly with a shrug, “the ox will take you back to the dock tomorrow- that’s the best I can do.”

“Now listen here, you little-“ Astarion’s growl was cut off by a crackle of magic, the halfling closing the portal behind him and leaving both men behind.

“I think that went about as well as expected, especially with your vicious manner,” Gale sighed, dropping his bag on the counter, “but we got beds and another ship out of it so I’d consider this a win, so to speak.”

“Bed,” Astarion corrected, looking over the counter into the room beyond with a sigh, “he said bed, Gale- and he meant it.”

Brow furrowing, the wizard peered into the room beyond: there was in fact only one bed, and no space anywhere for another hidden away. He tutted, questioning the decisions that led to this moment, but saw a small ray of light that shone in his favour. “I’ll take the bed- the floor shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?” Gale suggested, meeting the elf’s puzzled look, “vampires tend to sleep in coffins, so I assume you’re used to sleeping on hard wood- I’ve certainly read that-“

“I sleep in a fucking bed, Gale!” Astarion shouted, focusing the full power of his bloody glare upon the human, “the this is why you wizards irk me- you know, perhaps actually meeting a vampire in person may do you some good; maybe you’ll realise that half the things written in your dusty tomes are complete nonsense! Do you think the author of this vampire book you read ever actually spoke to one of us, or simply staked a vampire and drew his own conclusions?”

Gale bit his tongue, letting the reality of Astarion’s frustrations sink into his mind for a moment. He was yet to see the elf so passionate about something until this- it was as if that carefully crafted facade had been torn off for just a moment. “You make a solid point; the author of the book I was referencing was in fact a vampire hunter, if memory serves. I am sorry for my ignorance, Astarion, truly,” Gale sighed, holding his hands up in surrender and maintaining contact with the crimson glare that softened ever so slightly; perhaps if the vampire was being more honest, it was time for him to match that. “While I did travel a small amount in my youth, I didn’t see much of Faerûn before becoming Mystra’s Chosen and being whisked away to-“

“Chosen?” Astarion repeated with a dumbstruck blink, his tone swiftly turning to irritation, “you’re an honest to gods Chosen and you’re letting us slum it in this dump? Can’t you just call in-“

“I was her Chosen!” Gale snapped at the vampire, his heart breaking all over again as the words passed over his tongue, “I…I made a mistake, I was disgraced and cast aside; my goddess will never look upon me again and I’m trying to make peace with that…trying.” Gale’s back slid down the counter, head falling into his hands as he reached the ground with an inelegant thud and a wince.

Astarion observed him with wide eyes for a brief moment, clearly uncertain of how to proceed. “I admit that I’m not exactly known for my tenderness, Gale,” he began, a hand falling uncertainly on a violet-clad shoulder as he crouched in front of him, “but the gods are cruel, cruel creatures, and I believe that you deserved better than that, especially from one that had held you in such high esteem.”

“I didn’t,” Gale laughed bitterly, though he could see the genuine sympathy in the vampire’s usually sharp eyes, “I do appreciate you saying that though, Astarion. Thank you.”

“Hm, I suppose the odd reassuring word is the least I can offer after you’ve assisted me with this Ashaan mess,” Astarion admitted quietly, a whisper of a smile softening his angular features, “without your help, I’m quite sure I’d still be sulking on that dock or trying to catch a fish to drain- and I truly detest fish!”

Gale expressed a short chuckle at the image of Astarion desperately grabbing at the water, swatting at it like a cat, though the reality of the elf’s condition refocused his thoughts. “Speaking of that particular part of your nature- are you in need of…sanguine nourishment?” Gale asked tentatively, questioning his words even as they left his lips, “I am in fact offering, given that you only take a few mouthfuls. However, I must warn you that my blood may be tainted by my magical affliction I mentioned at the dock. There’s no research on my condition, I’m afraid, so I have no clue whether it would be drinkable- perhaps this is where our research could start.” Gale waited for the mockery, for the same shunning he had faced from his Blackstaff Academy peers when his condition became the talk of the town, but none came.

“We make a tragic pair, don’t we?” Astarion laughed sardonically, shaking his head, “while I wholly appreciate the offer, I have been forbidden to drink from anything considered a ‘thinking creature’- and I would gather that includes you.”

“That would depend on who you ask,” Gale said wryly, thinking of how Tara would often berate his less wise decisions despite his impressive intellect, “I can’t imagine anyone capable of forbidding you anything, Astarion, who-“

“Cazador, my ma- my creator,” Astarion spat the name with virulent hatred, swiftly correcting whatever he had started to say, “I’m not certain whether it was just one of his household laws, or whether I was compelled on that part; I’ve never tested it, never been brave enough to, if I’m truly honest.”

Chestnut eyes watched the vampire for a moment, seeing how his entire body tensed as he spoke of this Cazador, eyes growing distant despite the razor edge of his tone. “Hmm, he sounds like quite the controlling sire,” Gale muttered with a deep frown, “my offer is still on the table, however, should you like to try.”

“I…thank you,” the vampire smiled, almost struggling to pronounce the words as though it was something he rarely said, a tenderness that had not been there previously colouring his voice.

A silence lingered between them, though neither man seemed uncomfortable, until a yawn cracked the peace they had brokered. “I do rather think we should discuss the sleeping arrangement,” Gale announced after failing to stifle his yawn, “I must say that my aching joints would be eternally grateful were you to allow me use of the bed.”

“Not happening- I can’t trance at all without something soft under me, and a pillow!” Astarion huffed, crossing his arms with dramatic flair, “I need my beauty sleep, Gale; you do not want to have to spend a day with a grumpy, sleep deprived vampire, I can promise you that.”

“Oh please, you don’t need any beauty sleep; you’re already a marvel to behold!” Gale snapped, not fully realising the implication of what he’d said, “besides, I actually do listen so I’m well aware that your little ‘I’m going to eat you’ act earlier was all bluster.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Astarion asked, wholly taken aback, though there was a clear layer of teasing to his words, “I’m touched.”

“That’s the part you’re focusing on here?” Gale sighed, rolling his eyes at his own slip-up, “yes, yes, you’re beautiful- but I need that bed.”

“Interesting,” he muttered, calculating eyes never leaving the wizard.

“Might I suggest a compromise?” Gale asked, continuing on regardless, “I get to lay on the bed so that my bones don’t ache so much, you get the blankets to lay on and the pillow so that you can rest. Is this agreeable to you?”

“It will suffice,” the elf sighed, effortlessly hopping over the counter to collect the bedding, “well, sweet dreams, darling.”

Gale blinked at the odd endearment, watching the elf lay the blanket over the flat of the counter and settle atop it with the pillow under his short ringlets. “Yes- right then, I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose,” Gale muttered, using the short door at the end of the desk to reach the now decidedly bare bed. Satisfied that the elf’s eyes were certainly closed, he changed into his comfortable purple pyjamas that matched the shade of his travelling robes perfectly. He folded his robes into a neat bundle and placed his makeshift pillow at the head of the bed, blowing out the candles before lying down. 

Gale found that the skinny cot was unsurprisingly hard, the frame creaking as he attempted to settle down on the solid mattress. It was ridiculous, really- he likely would have found more comfort flat on the floor for the poor quality of the bed he was lying on. Turning over after a good while of simply praying to any god but Mystra that sleep would take him, Gale huffed, finding each position that he tested an abject failure in his search of a modicum of comfort. “So much for Ashaan Fleet quality service,” he huffed, gritting his teeth with the effort of flipping himself onto his back yet again.

“You should write them a strongly worded letter,” a voice laughed from the shadows, sounding far closer than the counter the vampire had been stretched out along.

“If you’re here for the bed, I warn you: it is extremely uncomfortable,” Gale muttered, trying to spot the other man in the dark, “I’m still not moving though.”

“Oh, I’m actually here to suggest a new compromise,” Astarion said in what Gale found to be a ridiculously dramatic tone, as though his presence alone would cure him of all ills, “I’m here for you, Gale.”

“Too hungry to rest, hm?” He sighed, running a hand across his face as he let his eyes acclimate to the dark, “is it customary to bite the neck, or would you rather try the wrist as you’ve not imbibed my blood before and it may taste-“

“That’s really not what I meant,” the vampire scoffed, soft footsteps moving closer, “will you let me show you?”

“What do you…?” Gale asked quietly before deciding to go with whatever he had in mind- there was no way the bed would grow any less comfortable with the elf’s interference, and admittedly he was as curious as a scholar should be, “right, go ahead.”

The words had barely passed from his lips before they were claimed by the cold shock of Astarion’s lips moving against his. Gale’s mind raced, frantically trying to determine whether he had finally managed to fall asleep and was fantasising about his bewitching new acquaintance, or was in fact having his lips worked open by a very cold tongue.

The answer became all too clear when the elf shattered the illusion.

“You’re thinking too hard, wizard- I can practically hear it,” Astarion teased, pulling back from Gale’s mouth, though his tone wavered slightly with uncertainty, “if I’ve misread your signals, if you want me to stop, just say the word and I’ll leave you be, but I believe this could be a mutually satisfying arrangement.”

The wizard wasn’t certain what exactly he wanted; he felt his body longing for the man’s touch, but he hardly knew him. Gale had always been a romantic at heart and the thought of being intimate before even taking Astarion out for dinner filled him with shame. Plus, with the majority of his romantic experiences having been with Mystra in the astral realm, he wasn’t entirely sure how to experience intimacy on the material plane anymore- not that he’d participated in much of the sort before the goddess. All that Gale was certain of was that he did not want Astarion to stop, and that he had changed a lot over his year without Mystra’s embrace; perhaps he was ready to embrace the concept of attraction again.

”Gale…are you going to say something?”

Leaning up, Gale recaptured the elf’s lips with his just as he’d begun to pull away, instantly receiving Astarion’s wandering tongue against them. The mattress shifted and creaked with the addition of the elf’s lithe form that straddled Gale’s waist without breaking the kiss. Icy hands found Gale’s and pinned them up against the robe pillow with a surprisingly strong forearm, the other hand petting the wizard’s soft beard.

“I’m so glad you came around to my way of thinking, darling,” Astarion chuckled, his breath freezing Gale’s ear as he whispered into it, “may I taste you, Gale?” The vampire moved to lick down his jugular vein, savouring the heat emitted from living flesh and drawing a gasp from the human.

“Of course; it would hardly do to retract my offer now, would it?” He laughed breathlessly, astounded at the heat that was building deep within him under Astarion’s attention, his touch-starved form clinging closer to the cold body, hands settling on strong thighs.

With a hum of approval, Astarion sunk needle-sharp fangs into the sun-kissed skin that protected Gale’s blood supply, sending a wave of pure euphoria through his body and drawing a low moan from his mouth. “Oh!” Gale gasped, letting his head fall back against the purple fabric, eyes rolling back in bliss, “I had no idea that would feel so, so…” He trailed off into an unrestrained whine when Astarion detached all too soon.

“Hm, it seems you were right about the taste,” he grimaced, forcing himself to swallow the little of Gale’s tainted blood that he’d taken into his mouth, “it’s a shame; there are decadent notes of rich red wine and firebolt char- which was truly delightful until the taste of magical bile flooded my senses.”

“Oh, I…I do apologise for that,” Gale mumbled, looking away in embarrassment- an attempt to hide his own disappointment.

“No matter- I’m grateful that you offered me the chance to try; the knowledge that I physically can disobey that command is a gift that I won’t forget,” the elf murmured, then at Gale’s clear dismay, using his free hand to catch his chin and turn his gaze back upon him, voice lowering, “there are other ways to taste a man, you know.” Astarion climbed back off of Gale, much to his displeasure- a feeling that was swiftly quelled by a dexterous hand stroking down the front of his pyjama pants. Gale’s breath hitched, the contact sparking something that charged the air between them, jaw dropping open in surprise. “There’s no need to be scared to feel, my dear,” Astarion reassured him, ruby eyes tracking Gale’s every ragged breath, “would you like me to stop?”

“Absolutely not,” Gale whispered, a hand calloused by years of flipping through spellbooks boldly cupping the vampire’s jaw and pulling him into a gentle kiss that seemed to surprise him.

Grinning against warm lips, Astarion squeezed Gale’s growing arousal through his clothes, relishing the feel of having the man in his hand despite the scholar's blush. Withdrawing from the sweetness of the kiss, the elf slid his hands under Gale’s soft tunic and lifted it slowly to partially reveal the expanse of his lower abdomen that was dusted with light brown hair. He thread his fingers through the hair there with a degree of entertainment as Gale’s warm skin flinched at his coldness, playing with the trail that led down below the violet waistband. Tracing the soft line with one hand, the vampire tugged the purple fabric down over shapely hips to expose Gale’s arousal; a reasonable length of thick, veiny flesh with a nest of chestnut hair at its base.

“Now that is beautiful,” Astarion purred, voice low, sultry and filled with wonder.

“Well, I wouldn’t say beautiful…I’m quite certain that it’s a decidedly average-looking appendage,” Gale pointed out, flustered, blushing furiously at the elf’s appraisal, “you don’t need to flatter me.”

“I’ve seen enough sweaty cocks over the years to know that this is a rather delightful one,” Astarion laughed quietly, wrapping an ivory hand around the shaft, beginning to gently pump it, though he was surprised when Gale’s body responded so readily to his slightest stroke, the human writhing slightly, “Gale…have you ever been touched like this?”

The wizard coughed to cover the moan that escaped his lips and cleared his throat, inwardly sulking as the frigid hand left his skin. “I’ll have you know that I am an experienced lover; I’ve participated in carnal acts within the astral realm that you could scarcely believe,” Gale declared in attempt to conceal his awkwardness, and it wasn’t a lie, merely a truth that wasn’t particularly useful to the situation.

“I’d hazard a guess that a handjob is a little different there,” Astarion scoffed, shaking his head with a playful purse of the lips, “what about in the material realm?”

“Oh, well, I’ve touched myself, but I…” he trailed off, grasping for a good answer, before settling on the simple truth, “no.” He’d expected the vampire to mock him, considering that his demeanour implied he was certainly experienced- yet there was no laugh in his response.

“Then I’ll be gentle with you,” Astarion reassured him with a smile, pulling out a small bottle from his pocket. He uncorked the stopper and poured the little oil that was left within into his palm, placing it aside and returning his cool touch to the part of Gale that seemed to strain towards him like a flower seeking sunlight.

Gale covered his mouth with his forearm to muffle the moan that Astarion’s touch pulled from deep within, wholly embarrassed at his reaction. “Let me hear you, darling,” the elf instructed, guiding the arm down to his side, “it’s just us- no one else is around to witness.”

Nodding, Gale let himself breathe, though he silently wondered whether Mystra would notice what he was doing if Astarion had him moaning loud enough; part of him hope that she would, if only to spite the goddess that had abandoned him. He gasped as an icy thumb smoothed over his tip, smearing precome around his slit and massaging it further down his length to mix with the grease. Astarion’s hand was like nothing he’d experienced before; the elf’s movements spoke of expertise, of an almost choreographed activity designed to bring only pleasure. “Hells, Astarion,” Gale groaned, throwing his head back onto the robes in a bliss that only heightened when a pair of lips started to suck on the head of his throbbing cock. “Oh!”

There was a low chuckle from the elf, his voice vibrating down the entire length of Gale, eliciting a strangled cry. One hand still working the base as the cool tongue lavished the tip, Astarion guided one of Gale’s hands to settle in his silver curls to encourage him further down the appendage. “Gods, Astarion, your mouth…” Gale moaned, breath hitching on the way out, feeling the flat of the tongue pressing along his thick vein that pulsed in time with his heart. “Ah! Oh- I’m not going be able to-“

He cut himself off with a cry of pleasure as Astarion began taking the entire organ into his mouth, desperately trying to get the head to hit the back of his throat with his feverish bobbing, a lewd slurping sound filling the air along with Gale’s whines. The wizard’s breaths grew ragged as he felt his climax drawing ever closer- he even took the initiative and started pushing the elf’s mouth down faster with each suck by his hair but avoiding his ears in fear of hurting them. Letting out a string of desperate pleas and moans, Gale’s heated flesh jerked in Astarion’s mouth as he reached his end, pumping his thick load into the man’s mouth with a blush. Unperturbed, and pleased if anything, the vampire swallowed all that Gale had to offer with a low moan of his own.

“Oh! Hells, Astarion, I do apologise!” He gasped, “I didn’t realise that I’d finish so soon! I should have pulled you off before-“

“Shh, you did nothing wrong,” the elf reassured him once he extracted the softening muscle from his mouth. “You did so well, especially considering how little experience you’ve had- on this plane at least.” Astarion pat a sweaty hip gently on his way to climb back up Gale’s body with a grin, noticing how the human seemed to revel in the praise. “So, do wizards usually just abandon their bodies to bang each other in the astral plane?” He enquired, leaning an elbow either side of Gale’s chest as he watched him frown in confusion, “you said you’ve been with someone there; I assumed it was another wizard.”

“I…no, I haven’t been with another mortal before- though I suppose that technically you’re not strictly mortal either, being undead,” Gale stumbled through his explanation, mind foggy from the haze of his bliss, “no, I used to lay with Mystra herself there.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say you fucked the Goddess of Magic herself?” Astarion gasped, eyes boring into the wizard who looked away sheepishly, “I feel like this is something you may have mentioned earlier so that I knew what I was up against!”

“I did not ‘fuck’ Mystra, as you so vulgarly put it; our union, though erotic, was more an abstract concept of pleasure rather than physically intimate touching, though that was occasionally permitted,” Gale attempted to spell it out for the elf, though still found his explanation lacking the true nature of what he experienced at Mystra’s hand, frustrating himself. “I feel that what really matters is that you just gave me more physical pleasure than I have ever experienced.”

“I’m glad that I’m among the greats for you,” the elf chuckled, leaning down to engage in a sloppy, breathy kiss that Gale could taste himself in- well, he assumed that the salty flavour was him. “I sense that you’re not really the type to open yourself up to this sort of experience often.”

Letting out a low chuckle, Gale opened his mouth to utter a playful rebuke, but found himself instead making a pained sound as his chest gave a familiar burning throb. “Hells, not now!” He half growled, gritting his teeth in agony, hand flying to where he knew the orb glowed beneath his tunic, “Astarion, I need you to get off me and grab my bag! Please!”

In a confused flurry of activity, the elf jumped off of the bed and grabbed the bag, thrusting it into Gale’s hands. Without a word, the wizard rummaged in the sack with frantic need, his breaths coming out rapid and ragged. Finding what he needed to sate his arcane hunger, Gale pulled out a pair of faintly glowing boots imbued with potent magic and clutched them to his chest.

“What are you doing?” Astarion asked cautiously, eyes never leaving the afflicted man, “do you need…” His sentence died in his mouth at the sight of Gale quite clearly draining the magic from the shoes and absorbing it into his chest, a lilac glow flickering through his shirt.

“Damn…I’d hoped to spare you from seeing the effects of my condition,” Gale muttered, voice laced with both guilt and shame. “I need to absorb the Weave from certain powerful magic items to regulate the pain, the…volatility.” He let out a long sigh, not looking Astarion in the eye despite being able to feel the scarlet gaze heavy on his face.

“You really think I’m going to judge you for healing yourself by cuddling a pair of boots?” The elf laughed softly, a hand settling on Gale’s leg and patting it in reassurance, “I quite literally survive on blood; I’m hardly going to freak out because you need magical objects to keep yourself in one piece.”

Gale was taken aback, having underestimated Astarion’s scope of understanding in the best of ways. “You know, I didn’t have you pegged as such a sweetheart,” he sighed with a thin smile, discarding the now mundane boots off the side of the bed. “Thank you, Astarion.”

He studied the elf in the low light, watching in amazement as pointed ears twitched slightly with every whisper, every breath; it was something he found endlessly fascinating. “May I touch your ears?” Gale asked, observing the elegant elven appendages with wonder, a hand slowly moving towards silver locks.

“Uh- I…well,” Astarion stuttered with a shocked frown, then let a soft chuckle pass through his lips, “you’ve really not spent much time around elves and it shows.”

“Oh!” Gale gasped, lowering his hands to his sides in horror, “I apologise, Astarion; was that a taboo of sorts? I meant no offence, I-“

“No, Gale, it’s fine,” the elf sighed, patting his leg, “it’s just not something you tend to do on a first date.”

The wizard’s breath caught in his throat: two strangers thrown into a single bed- was that really what passed for a first date by Astarion’s standards? “Ah, I see- I’m sorry, I didn’t realise,” he admitted, mentally kicking himself and worrying his lip with his teeth, “I shouldn’t have asked, please forget that I requested something so inappropriate of you.”

“You…you can touch them if you like, I was just shocked at the request,” Astarion shrugged, jaw set, “I’m used to having them tugged until they’re raw anyway.”

“Wait, does that mean you have a lover waiting for you somewhere?” Gale asked, stomach sinking as he considered the implications, “I’m actually not comfortable with being a-“

“No, Gale. I have a master, and I have strangers that he rents me out to for political favours and to lure victims back to him,” he deadpanned, his tone devoid of emotion, his expression a carefully constructed mask of indifference, “I certainly don’t have a lover, as you so sweetly put it.”

The wizard’s blood ran cold, thoughts racing and unbidden horrors flashing through his mind. “Gods, Astarion, I had no idea- you mentioned being experienced, but…” Gale started, though trailed off as a sour taste coated his tongue, “you don’t have to do anything at all that you don’t want to in my presence- I don’t want you to think I’d force you or that you owe me anything.”

The elf stared at him, seemingly surprised at Gale’s declaration and reassurance, then a toothy grin spread across his face. “Oh no, this is entirely selfish for once,” Astarion chuckled, his hand creeping up Gale’s thigh. “I want you, Gale, and I’m quite sure you want me too.”

“Well, if you’re sure; I…I’ve not really done anything like this before,” Gale blushed, getting flustered by the vampire’s delicate touch, “but yes, I want you, Astarion- and really that makes no sense. I’m the type of man to court, to impress, to woo- the effect you have on me, the desire to abandon all that I know, is intoxicating.”

With a low chuckle, Astarion caught Gale’s well-chewed lips with his, a hand cradling the bearded jaw as he climbed atop the wizard’s waist again without breaking the kiss. “I have been known to have that effect on people,” he admitted against Gale’s mouth before pulling away to shed his shirt and expose an expanse of marble skin to the moonlight. An approving groan passed the vampire’s lips as he felt Gale grow more bold beneath him, hot hands stroking across his ribcage to trace the bones there, leading his way down Astarion’s hips. “That’s right, darling- touch to your heart’s content,” Astarion purred, eyes practically aglow.

Taking the initiative, Gale pulled the elf closer, a hand snaking up his spine, though his eyes narrowed in confusion at the gnarled flesh that he felt along Astarion’s back; some were short and thick, others long, but the largest parts felt like sections of concentric circles. Feeling the man tense under his touch, Gale settled the hand back on Astarion’s hip with a look of apology.

“It’s quite alright, Gale,” he reassured despite his discomfort, though seemed relieved when the wizard moved back to his hips. “I’ll save that story for another time, but for now…” The elf rose high onto his knees, unclasping his trousers, and began to shimmy them down along with his undergarments, revealing alabaster skin inch by tantalising inch.

“Astarion, you truly are a vision,” Gale gasped, eyes widening as the vampire’s shaft was freed, the long, skinny length bobbing in the cool air, “Though I must admit, I’ve, hm, never…may I touch?”

“Such manners, sweet wizard,” he teased, pushing his garments down to his knees and settling back on Gale’s torso, well aware of the wizard’s organ stirring back to life behind him. “Go on then, be as rough as you will.”

Gale had never been so close another man’s shaft, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had no idea what he was doing, only that he wanted to; yes, he had read literature on such experiences, but never had he even witnessed such an appendage other than his own. Ignoring Astarion’s permission for rough handling, Gale took a breath and caressed the flushed tip, smearing the precome that glistened there in the moonlight. Much like the rest of the elf, his cock was cold, despite the blood that thrummed through it. Astarion let out a soft breathy moan at the contact, followed by an encouraging nod. Gaining confidence at the way the elf’s body chased his touch, Gale wrapped a hand fully around the touch-hungry organ and began to stroke up and down its length. His motions were uncoordinated, his technique sloppy, but he found himself adapting to how the lithe body moved, to each reaction and breath, determined to learn the strokes that made the vampire purr- after all, Gale was a quick study and very passionate about learning new skills.

“Oh!” Astarion gasped, a thick thumb rubbing the underside of his glans where it kissed a thick vein, crimson eyes boring into the human’s very soul, “Gale, I want you inside me- like, right now!”

Heavy brows shot up; that wasn’t a response he had anticipated but it sounded oh so good. Leaning back to kick his trousers fully off, Astarion took a couple of Gale’s fingers into his mouth, slathering the digits in cool saliva. “So that’s what you meant,” Gale chuckled, enjoying the strangeness of the sensation.

Astarion rolled his eyes, releasing Gale and guiding the fingers down past his aching cock and heavy balls, down to the pucker hidden between his cheeks.

“Oh!” The wizard gasped, connecting the dots, and worked a single finger into the panting elf that straddled him, “I think you’re in for quite a treat; it’s been said that I’m rather good with my hands.”

“Prove it,” Astarion challenged him with a lopsided grin, grinding down against the finger, “give me another; I won’t break.”

Gale licked his lips as he slipped another wet digit past Astarion’s ring of muscle, massaging his way deeper within the cold elf with movements more agile than one would expect of such thick fingers. “Fuck!” Astarion gasped, a shudder running through him as Gale brushed the nerves that bundled deep with him, head thrown back, “my, you really do have magic fingers!”

With a low chuckle, Gale continued pumping his fingertips against Astarion’s prostate and wrapped a hand back around the pale length, satisfied that the elf was bouncing himself on the fingers. “Gods, it would seem you’re a natural at this,” Astarion groaned, his breath catching as he reached a hand behind him to stroke Gale in time with their movements, “fuck, Gale!” The wizard gave out a sharp moan at the elf’s touch, a swell of pride in his chest at how Astarion so shamelessly called his name.

“Gods, I can’t take this anymore, I need you in me!” The elf panted, pulling himself up off the fingers with an urgency that caught Gale by surprise, “just lie back, Gale- let me take control and show you what I like.”

“Oh! Well, I’m hardly going to let you do all the work; I may be inexperienced but I’m not selfish,” Gale promised, a grin spreading across his lips. “can I interest you in a little Grease spell? I’m certain I can manage that for you.”

With a low chuckle, Astarion held out his hand expectantly as he waited on his knees above the wizard. With a small incantation, the elf’s hand was filled with a pool of clear, slick fluid, with which he anointed Gale’s cock with long, indulgent strokes that had him biting his lip in attempt to stay quiet. Noting Gale’s anticipation, Astarion lined the thick head up, rubbing the hot flesh against his entrance with a smirk at the gasp from Gale. Astarion began to sink down ever so slowly, letting out a strangled moan as the bulbous tip stretched his ring of muscle further than he’d expected, but he appeared to relish in the burn as he did not stop.

“Ah! Oh my…that’s-“ Gale started but cut himself off with a throaty groan at the friction around his cock despite the lubricant, the elf’s hole practically strangling him.

With a chuckle, Astarion let gravity take over and allowed his channel fully engulf Gale’s thick shaft. “I’m going to move now, Gale, and I’m going to give you the ride of a lifetime,” Astarion promised, low and sultry, gazing deep into the lust-blown eyes of the wizard under him with a degree of self satisfaction.

Gale simply nodded in response, not trusting himself with words for once in his life, hands desperately gripping the edges of the stiff mattress. Utilising those lithe thigh muscles, Astarion began lifting and lowering himself, his velvet walls massaging Gale’s length in luxuriously languid strokes, the bed frame creaking in protest. The wizard was panting below him, a world of new sensations sparking across his entire body as the elf took him so thoroughly, silver curls glowing in the moonlight with an angelic light.

“Oh- oh, shit, your body is…you’re a masterpiece,” Gale managed to get some of his thoughts out into some semblance of a sentence.

Astarion gave him a cryptic smile, which Gale read as somewhere between disbelief and bashfulness, and pulled the man up into a crushing kiss, working his hips faster with the new angle. Moaning into Astarion’s lips, Gale’s hand settled on an ivory hip, encouraging his energetic bouncing with what the wizard was surprised to identify as a growl.

“Did you just growl at me?” Astarion cackled, breaking away from the kiss to study Gale with a smirk, “I never thought the gentleman wizard would do such a thing!” His tone was light, teasing, though his movements were powerful, determined to draw more interesting sounds from Gale.

“Ah! Oh, fuck!” Astarion cried, finding just the right angle to rub Gale’s tip against his favourite pleasure spot, “Gods, Gale! Your dick is so fucking good!”

Gale’s brows shot up, a heavy blush burning across his cheeks; even as he’d pleasured his goddess, she’d never been vocal about his skills, so to have the elf praising him so readily as he lost himself in the decadence of Gale’s body was almost enough to push the wizard over the edge. “Gods, ah- Astarion!” He moaned breathlessly, moving his hand from the cold hip to wrap around the pale, straining length bobbing between them, “I’m…I’m not going to last-“

Astarion cut him off with a bruising kiss, leaning down with his full weight to bury Gale inside his body as deep as he could go, slender legs wrapping around Gale’s hips. “Good. I want you to come, Gale,” the elf purred against kiss-swollen lips that he nipped at as they parted, giving a pointed roll of the hips to spur the wizard on, “I want to feel you heat my body from within.”

“Oh…gods!” Gale gasped at the debauched desire that spilled from Astarion’s lips, speeding his hand up around the elf’s drooling shaft with determination to bring him equal bliss, “oh! S-shit- Astarion!”

The wizard’s scream of his name surprised the vampire- perhaps more so than Gale’s desire to jerk him to completion, but he found himself smiling as he panted on the organ that fit inside him so deliciously. There was a guttural grunt as Gale found his release, hot seed shooting deep into Astarion with such velocity that made the elf cry out, stilling his hip movements to feel the full effect of Gale pulsing and throbbing within his quivering walls as he filled him.

“Huh- oh! Fuck!” Astarion gasped as he spilled onto Gale’s stomach, thoroughly shocked at his own release as he fell forwards slightly to rest his head against Gale’s slick forehead.

Gale removed his hand from the spent shaft and rested it on Astarion’s hip, keeping the elf fully seated as his walls rippled and constricted around his length, both men panting against each other’s lips.

“Fuck, Gale, that was…” Astarion forced out between breaths, which had a part of Gale questioning if the vampire really needed to breathe, “I don’t usually get to come- that was amazing, you sweet, generous thing.”

“Oh…” Gale frowned slightly, but lightened his tone and smiled for the elf, “your pleasure is my pleasure, and that was…that changed my world. I didn’t know touch could feel like that; so cold yet hot; so desperate; so depraved- so beautiful.”

Astarion chuckled against a sweat-slick cheek, tongue flicking out for just a taste, before easing himself up off of Gale’s spent shaft with a breathy moan, landing onto Gale’s sticky chest, the human groaning in response.

“Gods, you smell so good right now,” he murmured, taking a deep breath of the well-fucked elf’s sweaty hair and savouring the musty scent that was previously overpowered by the bergamot and rosemary that usually clung to him.

“Hah, you like this, do you?” Astarion laughed in surprise, shaking his head in disbelief, “I put in the effort to hand-concoct perfume, to wear that scent each day so that no one can detect the rancid death on me, but you like how I naturally smell? You’re an odd man, Gale.”

“So I’ve been told,” he laughed, grinning at the elf. “It seems you have quite the talent as a perfumer though.”

“Thank you,” the elf said simply, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability as he laid in Gale’s welcoming arms. “Sleep now, wizard- because I’m not leaving this bed.”

The wizard snorted, petting the soft curls, and let out a long breath- that was certainly one way to claim the bed for them both, and Gale was absolutely too exhausted to protest, not that he wanted to.

As the human succumbed to sleep, a part of him drifted back to thoughts of Mystra; had she seen how he had a new body to worship that was far more giving than she ever was? He hoped so, but also hoped that the glorious acts between he and Astarion remained blissfully their own, unseen by spectating gods and goddesses alike. This pleasure was theirs alone.

Chapter Text

The makeshift bedroom was bathed in golden light, beams of sunlight gently warming its sole occupant to a wakeful state. Gale stretched out an arm with a distinctive pop in his shoulder, eyes slowly opening and squinting into the brightness of the unfamiliar surroundings, not recognising the room in the daylight. With a sigh, he sat up against a remarkably uncomfortable headboard to survey the area, noticing an ache in his thighs as he moved.

“Where…? Ah, the field office,” he muttered to himself with a nod, yawning through his words. “The field office? Oh.” The events of the night came flooding back to him, cheeks flushing a delicate pink that Astarion would no doubt find entertaining were he present.

“Oh gods- Astarion?” The groggy wizard began patting the sunlit bed in a panic, fully waking and searching for any evidence of the vampire having been reduced to ashes. Finding nought but a strand of hair the colour of starlight, he jumped out of the bed with little care for his lack of clothing and scoured the office for Astarion.

To his credit, Gale’s search was thorough: he checked under the bed, behind the counter, next to the chamber pot- nothing, not even the bag Astarion had carried. ‘Did he leave in the night?’ The thought left him feeling rather empty- until he spied a recess in the wall protected by a tall, slender door. Upon pulling open the door, there was a deep sigh of relief- the elf was safe and sound, sat quietly in the darkness of the cramped closet, apparently trancing.

Satisfied that his vampire hadn’t turned to dust in the morning sun while he’d slept in, Gale closed the cupboard and returned to the bedroom to dress himself. He stood there for a moment, staring at the bed where Astarion had straddled him and shown him heights of physical pleasure he had never believed possible, mulling over his options as he pulled on his robes and. He could leave for the dock and wait there for a few hours, he could go and search for a village out there, or there was the option both most appealing and most terrifying: he could stay.

“You’re still here,” Astarion’s voice rang through the office as Gale arrived back in the doorway of the closet, the former having nudged it open. “I didn’t expect…you don’t have to stay for my sake, Gale- you can go outside and...I don’t know. But you don’t have to stay for me.” He paused, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. “Go out and enjoy the warmth on your skin, I’ll find my way back to the dock come nightfall.”

“I’m well aware that I have the ability to leave,” Gale said with a grin, planting himself on the ground next to the elf. “I’m here with you because, well, because I want to be.”

A smile crept onto Astarion’s marble features- a genuine one that made the corners of his eyes crease in an oddly adorable manner. “You’re a pleasant surprise, Gale,” he noted, his expression softening with what Gale could only describe as resignation, as though the vampire was warring with the very idea of enjoying another’s company. “I’m glad you’re here.” He leant his head on Gale’s sun-warmed shoulder, lulling himself back into a restful trance.

“What was it you said about needing to lie in something soft to trance?” Gale teased, stroking his beard in mock-thought.

“I just wanted the bed, I’ll trance anywhere I feel like there’s a low enough risk of getting stabbed,” he mumbled sleepily, patting the human’s arm, “plus I’ve got something soft to lay my head on now.”

“I suppose you got the bed either way in the end,” Gale scoffed, kissing the top of the vampire’s head and sighing in contentment as the smaller man snuggled into his shoulder. “Enjoy your luxurious pillow and rest.”

The lack of response from Astarion gave him ample time to reflect on the thoughts and feelings that had developed over the last night- to spiral, in other words. What he’d experienced in Astarion’s arms had transcended his understanding of his own body, of the pleasures of the mortal plane and, regardless of his current disdain for Mystra, he wondered whether the ecstasy he’d felt while making love to Astarion was above even the pleasures the goddess had shared with him.

Making love? Was that what he and the elf had been doing? Perhaps simply sex then, but Gale certainly couldn’t deny a distinct fondness for his companion, one that had built through their swiftly budding bond as much as it had through Astarion’s teaching of how to enjoy his body even on the material plane.

And then what did that mean, exactly? Was he just bonding with the only person to show him any real attention since his fall from grace? Or was he falling for the mysterious rogue?

Gale wasn’t sure which option he preferred.

---------------------------------

“What are you thinking about so intensely?” Astarion asked as he awoke not much later, quirking his thin lips, “you breathe harder when you’re mulling things over.”

“Hm, well, I was just thinking: I’ve never been to Baldur’s Gate and I may need the assistance of a handsome Baldurian to show me the best libraries and restaurants before I depart for Waterdeep.” Gale grinned, redirecting his thoughts of love and desires towards something more easily discussed, “would you like to be my guide?”

Astarion’s demeanour shifted at the mention of the city, a quiet huff slipping out. “Gale…things are different there. The moment we dock, Cazador’s cronies -or possibly my fellow spawn- will come for me,” he sighed, not meeting the chestnut gaze, “the moment I’m home, I’m his.”

The vampire’s sombre words sent a chill down Gale’s spine, leaving him frowning in confusion. “Then why return?” Gale asked softly, trying to empathise, “you’re free out here, so why go back to that?”

“Well, I don’t have any other option, do I? Baldur’s Gate is all I know- I wasn’t exactly doing a great job of surviving out here away from home anyway before you started helping me,” Astarion spat, eyes shining like freshly spilt blood. “My master may be cruel; he may force me to service him until I’m raw and broken; he may only let me eat rats and bugs, but at least I know I will be kept alive until he’s done with me. Out here, who knows what will become of a lone vampire spawn.”

“Astarion, no- that’s…you deserve so much better,” Gale whispered, catching a tear that rolled down the alabaster cheek with his thumb. He paused, letting a bold, potentially life-changing solution drift through his head. “Why don’t you travel with me for a while? Forget the city, forget everyone and everything you left there. I swear, I will never hurt you, I-“

“You’ll tire of me, Gale, of my cruel whims, of my fickle nature, of my bloodlust,” he interrupted wryly, shaking his head with an accusatory glare.

“Don’t forget that I know the feeling of being discarded, abandoned, all too well,” Gale reminded him, his voice harsher than intended, “I won’t do that, I would never make you feel as worthless as I do.”

The vampire’s brow softened, losing its harshness. “You are not worthless, Gale,” he corrected, “don’t you dare ever think that.”

“Then stay with me, remind me each day- the same way I’ll do all within my power to show you that you’re more than Cazador made you,” Gale urged him, taking a pale hand, “please don’t damn yourself to the shadows of the Gate.”

“I…hm, perhaps I’ll consider your offer,” the elf sighed, letting Gale stroke and squeeze his hand.

“That’s all I ask, and if you grow to despise me someday, I won’t try to keep you.”

“I appreciate that, but I fear I wouldn’t know what to do with that freedom,” Astarion muttered, a false laugh in his throat.

“We can cross that proverbial bridge should we come to it,” Gale reassured with a tentative smile.

Astarion gave a responding huff of a laugh, his thoughts clearly drifting off to consider his options- and their consequences. Meanwhile, Gale attempted to formulate a plan of action; despite the horrors that awaited Astarion in Baldur’s Gate, he still needed to scour the city for what he sought. He expected that the Carapace would be docked in the city for a single night before resuming its journey the following day, which in theory would be enough time to locate and acquire his book- if he had the elf’s assistance.

“Do you know where Sorcerous Sundries is?” Gale blurted out mid-thought, startling Astarion slightly.

“The magic emporium and bookshop- yes, it stays open late so I’ve picked up many a…book there,” he replied curtly, narrowing his eyes, “why do you ask? Is it some sort of wizardly pilgrimage spot?”

“There’s a book I need, one that I believe is the key to understanding the orb in my chest,” he explained, a hand moving unconsciously towards it, “if it’s in the city as I believe, it will be there. I doubt it would be somewhere easily accessible though, given its subject of forbidden magic…do you know of a safe or lockbox of some sort in the emporium?”

Ruby eyes lit up, Astarion’s lips shifting into a smirk. “You know, I am something of an infiltration expert- I’ve strolled through that vault a good few times to peruse the goods and hone my skills,” Astarion boasted, flourishing his dexterous fingers before Gale, “which book do you seek?”

“It’s an ancient tome titled ‘The Annals of Karsus’, written by the Netherese mage himself before his folly,” Gale explained, recalling what he had learnt about the book in his own research and on the road.

“Oh! I’ve seen that one- it’s red and gold,” Astarion nodded, holding up his hands to mime the size of it. “The security on it is…interesting to say the least, but I’ve worked my way through it before. You should consider yourself lucky I didn’t bother with the book back then, just the more…shiny items in the chamber.”

“Thank the gods,” Gale uttered a small prayer to no one in particular, letting out a breath of relief. “Would you be able to explain how to get it?”

“No,” he grinned, holding up a finger before the wizard’s face could fall, “I’ll collect it for you, given that you’ll help me through the city and watch my back while I work.”

“You’ll help me?” Gale asked, a grin spreading across his cheeks.

“Obviously it’ll have to be under cover of darkness,” the vampire shrugged with a chuckle, “and you need to keep Cazador’s minions away from me, but otherwise yes; I don’t stick my neck out often, but for you I will- of course I’ll help you.”

“What brought on this new determination? Not that I’m complaining in the slightest.”

“I figure that I owe you,” Astarion shrugged, then sighed in defeat, “and maybe I don’t find your company entirely terrible- perhaps even pleasant.”

“Very high praise, coming from you,” Gale quipped, cheekily raising a brow.

“See? You do have a sense of humour, unlike my siblings- they tend to shun me for the crime of my quick wit and sharp tongue.”

“I didn’t realise you have siblings, are they-”

“Not real ones, just Cazador’s other spawn,” he muttered, glancing away, “he likes to think of us as one big happy family, but they’re mostly just arseholes. They are likely the ones that will be sent to find me.”

Gale’s brows shot up, then furrowed in thought. “Hang on, if Cazador is so possessive and wants you ‘home’ so desperately, how did you end up all the way out here?”

The elf was quiet for a moment, then let out a bitter laugh. “He knows I’ll come back,” Astarion scoffed, though the harshness was evidently an attempt to conceal pain, “I always do, like a damned fool.”

His words hung heavy in the air as Gale remained silent, allowing them both a moment to reflect. He noticed something in Astarion’s eyes, in the way he kept his ruby gaze averted- it was the same thing that he often glimpsed in his own reflection: shame.

With a resigned sigh, Astarion began searching for something in his bag.

“Is that a bag of holding?” Gale asked, peering in with curiosity, though his question was swiftly answered when he saw the long staff adorned with a red and black bat get pulled from the depths; the weapon practically radiated shadow magic.

“He sent me to collect this for him, handcrafted by a dark arcanist,” Astarion explained, fully revealing the staff and tossing it between his hands, “gaudy, isn’t it? Had to pay for it with my ass too.”

“Literally?” Gale asked, unable to gauge the elf’s humour in the moment, and thoroughly regretted asking when he received a nod. He reached out, running his hand along the pole, feeling the dark energy vibrating within it, “hm, this staff may be exceedingly powerful, but it’s not worth any part of you, Astarion.”

“You’re sweet on me, aren’t you, wizard?” Astarion teased with a soft chime of laughter that broke through the heavy air, slipping the staff back into his pouch.

Raising a hand towards a bearded cheek, Astarion hesitated before he could make contact, eyes unreadable as they studied Gale’s warm features. “I…owe you an apology, Gale,” he sighed, lowering his arm and closing his eyes, “last night, I laid with you with the intention of making myself valuable to you in the only way I’ve ever known: by using my body. I wanted your affection, your protection, and I still do, but not because I seduced you…because you actually see me as worthy.”

Gale blinked, his jaw dropping almost comically then snapping shut, the wizard trying to gather his thoughts before speaking; outwardly he was calm, within he was climbing the walls. ‘Did he truly use me like a sort of protection-granting harlot?’ Gale asked himself, stomach churning with the sense of betrayal. Nevertheless, the wizard took a deep breath, allowing logic to take precedence over emotion; he couldn’t even fathom the depths to which Astarion’s self-worth must have plummeted for him to see his body only as currency.

“Astarion, I won’t do you the disservice of pretending that I’m not incredibly hurt, that I don’t feel utterly violated, but I can understand the twisted logic of your actions,” Gale finally addressed the situation, nodding to himself as he watched ruby eyes open in response, “so did last night mean anything to you?”

“That’s…that’s hard to answer. I’ve done this before, thousands of times, but I did enjoy your touch while I usually switch off; seeing you smile, hearing you enjoy my touch…it felt different, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that,” he explained, clearly struggling to find the correct words, “for once, I regret what I did- truly, Gale, I apologise for hurting you. I wish we could do it over, without the lies.”

Gale pursed his lips, questioning the authenticity of the seemingly heartfelt apology, but the elf’s guilty eyes passed the wizard’s scrutiny. “I appreciate that- you’re not forgiven, but I understand,” he sighed, clasping a hand on Astarion’s shoulder, “you don’t have to do anything like that anymore, not with me.”

Astarion laughed nervously, “so you don’t suddenly get the urge to introduce my heart to a pointy stick?”

“Not quite yet, perhaps just a low-level fireball spell,” Gale half laughed, finding himself smiling despite everything.

“Hm, I suppose I earned that one,” the elf huffed, a smile painting his lips, “so we’re alright?”

Gale thought for a moment, drumming fingers against the hardwood floor, smiling to himself as he got an idea of how to both pass the time and keep an eye on Astarion. “Of course, as long as you’ll indulge me in a game of Lanceboard,” he said with a wink, watching the elf for his reaction.

Much to his surprise, Astarion nodded with a shrug, “I suppose I can manage that- Gale, is that what makes up the weight of your bag? You’re carrying around an entire chessboard and pieces?”

“Of course not, well, not in the way you’re thinking,” Gale chuckled, waving a hand. He dug into his pack and withdrew a small box, placing it on the floor between them.

“Well, that’s a little underwhelming.”

“Patience,” Gale muttered, raising his hands and moving them to form the incantation of the enlarge spell, uttering the phrase as he did.

“Cast that one a lot?” Astarion taunted, watching the box grow and the wizard withdraw the board and pieces, setting up the game, earning only the slightest twitch of whiskered lips in reply. “So…do you expect to win this just because you’re a smarty-pants wizard?”

Gale scoffed, shaking his head, “were that the case, I wouldn’t even bother setting up the pieces. You can play, I assume?”

“I can play,” Astarion said coyly, as if deciding how much to disclose, “I was a magistrate before Cazador took me- chess and its ilk made excellent strategy training for my colleagues and I- plus there was a lot of waiting around at times.”

A magistrate? That was certainly an interesting revelation- it explained a good few things too such as a certain way with the mastering of narratives.

“And were you good?”

“Chess was never my favourite pastime, but I wasn’t terrible,” Astarion shrugged, head held high.

“I meant as a magistrate,” Gale chuckled, placing the final onyx bishop on his side of the board, having played the gentleman and chosen the black, allowing Astarion to go first.

“Depends who you ask,” the elf scoffed, tapping the side of his nose with a smirk, though it seemed a tad forced to Gale. Regardless, Astarion turned his attention to the board, brushing his hand along the edge of the board and flicking a marble knight off the surface to inspect with a thoughtful look, the entire motion a blur to Gale’s mundane human eyesight.

He moved his knight first, placing it back on the board in its new position, earning himself a raised brow, “what were you saying about being passable at this?” Gale ribbed, trying to gauge whether Astarion was going to use any particular strategy, “this may prove quite a short game.”

“Excuse me? I’ll have you know I had centuries of practice at this game!” Astarion gasped in disbelief, pouting, “maybe those in the law profession simply play differently to wizards.”

Gale simply chuckled in response, moving a pawn forward in a calm, low-risk move- followed by Astarion quickly sliding a pawn to meet his. The wizard paused, eyes flicking up to watch his opponent before he moved his knight to mirror the white one.

“Are you copying me?”

“You mirror my pawn, I mirror your knight- your move, Astarion.”

They played like that for a while: Astarion moving aggressively and making mistakes, Gale responding defensively and taking a couple of pieces, both quipping back and forth every few moves- until the elf seemed to change up his tactic.

“So…what do I get when I win? A treat? A favour? Forgiveness for all my sins?” He asked sweetly, batting his rubies in Gale’s direction in such a way that made the wizard snort out a laugh as the elf moved his rook, “oh, you don’t think I can beat you? Well, what do you want from me then, on the off chance you win?”

“I can’t say I’ve thought about it, I thought we were simply playing the day away until sunset,” Gale chuckled, shifting a knight, “actually, I believe you were doing this to make it up to me for being deceitful.”

“Oh, I am- don’t you feel better about me already?”

“Stop teasing and play.”

“I am playing, darling,” Astarion purred, watching the human with a toothy grin, “think on it though: is there anything you’d like from me?”

He did think on it for just a moment, pursing his lips.

“How about your word that you’re done manipulating me?”

“You already have that, I swear it, Gale,” Astarion replied, expression shifting to a softer smile, hand over his heart to convey sincerity, “anything else though, it’s yours- within reason.”

Gale laughed, the set of his jaw gentling as he watched the elf perform what was an undoubtedly ridiculous move given that…oh! Oh, he had clearly not been playing enough attention himself as his queen was absolutely not where he thought he left it. Regardless, he closed his ranks to protect the black king.

“Hm, and what would qualify as beyond reason then?”

‘Why in the hells am I indulging this utter menace?’ Gale questioned internally, groaning to himself as he stepped straight into the elf’s trap- not on the board, but off.

“Well, I’d think of it like this: staking me through the heart is not within reason,” he started with a shrug, grinning at how Gale’s attention had started to slip from their physical chess game, focussing more on their social dance, “but coming over here and kissing me…that would be within reason.”

The wizard choked- Astarion had won this round.

“That’s…hm, I understand your scale of unreasonable to reasonable,” he said with what he hoped was an even tone rather than the squeaky voice that actually came from him, tongue sweeping his lower lip, hand hesitating over his last bishop, “and if we are to call a draw?”

“A draw? On what grounds?” Astarion asked innocently, eyes wide, “does the great wizard think he’s about to lose?”

Gale studied the board, trying to calculate and mentally map the paths he would need to take to win, desperately trying to stop glancing across at his opponent; his gorgeous eyes; sharp nose; sultry lips…shit.

Checkmate.

“Ahem, on account of me being too distracted to play properly,” Gale sighed, though there was little actual disappointment in his heart or voice.

“In the case of a draw, I’d say we both get what we want,” the elf murmured, carefully pushing the board aside to move closer. He slowly looked Gale up and down, surprisingly hesitant for someone who had just been teasing the man. “You never said what you wanted if you won.”

“I’ll show you,” Gale murmured, catching cold hands in his own and pulling Astarion close. He brushed his lips against the elf’s, his beard tickling him if the breathy giggle was anything to go by, “tell me this is real, Astarion, and don’t even think to lie to me again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it- I know better now,” Astarion replied softly without moving away, giving a self-deprecating little laugh, “I was an idiot, Gale, I thought you were just a means to an end like everyone else I’ve ever known- you’re anything but. Please, let me try again.”

Gale eased himself up, tugging Astarion up with him and pulling him close, firmly pressing their lips together. The kiss started as a slow moving of lips together but quickly grew into something hungrier, the human pressing himself firmly against Astarion, backing him out of the cubby and against the counter that he’d tried to rest on the night before.

Was this really the brightest idea? Could he really trust the elf again after such a betrayal? Was he making the exact same mistake again?

“Hey…you know we don’t have to do this, right?” Astarion asked with a worried look, cupping Gale’s jaw in his hands, and that was all it took.

Gale surged forwards with a need contrary to his usual gentlemanly demeanour, grinding his hips against the elf’s, mouths coming together again in a battle waged and won by the wizard. He pushed Astarion back to sit on the counter top, eager hands palming at every inch of the vampire he could reach. “Happy with more?” Gale panted, composing himself just enough to double check, but needed no further approval than the cold hand that sought entry to his robes, one hand palming his erection from the outside of his underclothes while dexterous fingers worked open metal fastenings.

The sound that escaped the wizard’s throat was guttural, not something that usually slipped the rather verbose man’s lips, but it seemed he’d done something right as Astarion gave a low rumbling laugh. “I was thinking I might give you something more,” he suggested, leaning in to press a kiss to the bristles of his jaw, fingers delving into white briefs. A smirk graced his lips at the hiss that escaped Gale’s lips, his fingers making contact with stiff, heated flesh and withdrawing him.

“Sweet Mystra, I forgot how cold your hands are!” He yelped, almost jerking away with a nervy bubble of laughter, then seemed to realise what he’d said, “ah, sorry, that was more of a general exclamation of surprise, not an actual invocation of Mystra- something more akin to phrases such as ‘good heavens’ or ‘by the gods’ rather than-”

“Gale. I know, stop getting yourself into a state and let yourself enjoy this.”

Astarion chuckled and slid off the counter, guiding the human to lean against it instead for balance and dropping to his knees.

“I…right, yes- of course. I was simply- oh! Oh, that is divine, Astarion,” he started, interrupting himself with a breathy moan as the elf took his crown between his lips, stroking the slit with his tongue. Gale’s hips twitched instinctively to chase the feeling but were met with cold hands restraining him against the counter, Astarion’s chortle vibrating along his entire shaft.

“Ah, ah, ah,” the vampire chided, freeing Gale’s tip just enough to speak, “let me show you how sorry I am for deceiving you, how good I can make you feel- because I want to, Gale.”

Gale let out a huff of air but nodded, biting his lip to muffle the moan that threatened to escape as his lover engulfed him again, taking him much deeper this time. A talented tongue massaged its way along his length, lips sealing firmly around the root of Gale’s proud appendage, nose buried in a dusting of brown curls, inhaling deeply. Captive rubies shone with adoration as Astarion gazed up at the human, sending a shudder of raw desire through his entire body; Gale had just enough sense of self left to realise just how different it felt to have the elf pleasure him this time, wanting to do it rather than forcing himself.

Swallowing and finally letting himself fully relax, fingers threaded through starlight locks, gripping gently without taking control, simply enjoying the sensations as Astarion began to suck and bob his head. The small building’s walls echoed with the wizard’s soft grunts and moans, accented with the slick sounds of Astarion’s hard work and a sharp gasp as cold digits caress Gale’s sack, causing him to jolt.

“So sensitive, darling,” Astarion teased, pulling off to lick up the long vein that pulsed harder with every second of mounting pleasure, drawing an almost pitiable whimper from the man above him, “close, hm?”

At Gale’s frantic nod, the vampire grinned, ever so gently scraping a fang along the sensitive head with precision that had the human moaning in bliss despite how his eyes widened in no small degree of fear at the sight of the sharp tooth against his dick. With a soft laugh, Astarion took the whole appendage back into his cool cavern, swallowing around Gale in such a way that served to drive him wild, closer and closer to the brink. Finally, he came with a guttural cry, his shaft jerking in the elf’s mouth and coating that skilled tongue in his hot release.

“Ah- Astarion, gods, that was- you are rather good at that,” Gale panted, pushing a hand through his own sweat-tousled mane with a giddy laugh as he caught his breath, watching enraptured as his lover freed the softening appendage and licked his lips clean.

“So I’ve been told,” he scoffed, though his expression softened at the rise of Gale’s brows, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Is this always how a game of lanceboard ends with you?”

“Absolutely not!” The wizard barked, scandalised, though his expression shifted into a grin, “that being said, we could work on your rather chaotic playstyle together at a later date if you’d like a repeat performance- given that you stay with me, of course.”

“Ah, that again?” Astarion half-laughed, pursing his lips in thought for but a moment, “you know how to drive a hard bargain for a man from Waterdeep, don’t you?” Despite his teasing, he pulled Gale in close, lips grazing against each other, “for the pleasure of your company in all its forms, I’ll do all I can to stay,” Astarion whispered and pressed his lips tight to Gale’s, their mouths moving together almost automatically as both men felt the weight of his words.

Deep brown eyes widened in delighted disbelief- he hadn’t expected Astarion to actually give him an answer then and there; he was well aware that the obstacles of acquiring the Annals of Karsus and avoiding the vampire lord still stood between them and Waterdeep, but Gale let himself hope. And for the first time in a while, he let himself feel.

“Don’t forget to breathe, darling,” Astarion scoffed, pulling his lips away to allow the human some air and a break in his thoughts as he traced a hand along the curve of Gale’s jaw.

With a breathless chuckle, Gale leant in closer over the vampire’s shoulder, his warm exhale tickling a pointed ear without quite touching it, making it twitch.

“How would you feel about allowing me to show you just a taste of what staying with me will be like?” Gale rumbled, voice dripping with sultry promise, “or rather, allowing me to taste you for a change.”

The elf arched a silver brow at Gale’s offer, seemingly trying to read the intention in dark eyes as the man rocked back on his heels with a charming smile.

“I’m talking about taking you into my mouth,” Gale clarified at the lack of response, glancing down into Astarion’s crotch at the growing bulge in his trousers, “you’ve been so giving, so willing to show me the pleasurable potential of my mortal body- will you let me return the favour?”

“Oh! Oh, you don’t have to, darling; I’m no stranger to unreciprocated touch,” Astarion laughed uneasily, shrugging as though he had no idea of how the reality of his past pained Gale to hear, to realise how little the elf had been cared for, “not that I don’t believe you can do it, I just…”

Gale swallowed, nodding in understanding, though he took a moment to consider: did Astarion not want his touch, or was he worried about wanting it, scared to let himself be taken care of for once?

“Astarion, will you let me love you?” Gale asked softly, his hand lacing through his hair in a tender gesture as he peered deep into blood-tone depths that led directly to the elf’s soul, “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, but I want to show you love.”

The elf’s brows twitched as he considered Gale’s proposition, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Love away, my dear mage,” Astarion chuckled, gesturing for him to go ahead, a slight blush colouring the tops of his ears and dusting his cheeks.

Gale so wished that he could stroke those beautiful pointed tips, but he was nothing if not patient and restrained; Astarion may have given him permission to touch them the night prior, but it simply didn’t feel appropriate given the elf’s explanation.

Warm hands stroked down the bumps of Astarion’s ribs over his shirt, stopping to trace circles into his slender hips before lifting the slight man up onto the countertop so that he wouldn’t risk his joints by stooping all the way to the ground.

“Are you sure this is quite alright?” Gale checked again, watching for any flickers of hesitation in the vampire’s eyes, but he saw none as the elf nodded with a fanged grin spreading between pale lips.

Gale gave a tentative rub to Astarion’s stiffening shaft through loose trousers, pulling a pleased sigh from the elf under his touch and bolstering his courage with a growing degree of pride in the effect he had upon his lover. Undoing the laces afront the garments, Gale shimmied the fabric down just enough to gain access to the appendage that stirred to life before him.

“Your moon-kissed skin is a perfection beyond even the gods,” Gale murmured, tracing the slight dips of his waist with awestruck reverence. Moving lower still, he ghosted a hand over Astarion’s length, feeling how it twitched under just a whisper of contact with a curious smile. Closing his hand, he stroked up and down the cold cock, tugging gently, massaging firmly, until Astarion was fully erect and mewling under his ministrations.

With an approving hum and sensually maintained eye contact, Gale took the newly throbbing appendage between his lips, tongue teasing the tip with a twist and a curl. The flavour of the elf’s skin was unlike anything Gale had ever sampled; it was slightly salty with whispers of that bergamot perfume he wore and something that could only be identified as a mustiness, presumably part of his undead nature.

“Oh! Oh, fuck, Gale,” Astarion gasped, raising a hand to his mouth to muffle his moan and trying to keep from thrusting into the scholar’s mouth, “Gale, the things you can do with that tongue of yours…”

He chortled with his mouth full, taking Astarion deeper as he did so, humming around the elf’s arousal and moving his hands to manoeuvre the slim but muscular thighs to hang over his shoulders.

Gale tried to recall what else Astarion had done when performing the same pleasures on him, but was drawing a blank due to how his brain had short-circuited, so drew from books he’d read, art he’d seen. He moved a hand down to cradle the elf’s heavy sack, gently kneading his balls between calloused fingertips.

Astarion gasped, bucking his hips in surprise at the extra stimulation, cock hitting the back of Gale’s throat. He gagged around the length, throat convulsing around Astarion as he pulled off to catch his breath with a splutter.

Astarion’s expression was apologetic, despite the laugh that escaped his lips, brow quirking in challenge. Accepting the elf’s dare, Gale sunk down on the leaking cock, taking Astarion deep into his throat, bobbing his head with fervent determination.

“Ah, fuck!” Astarion squeaked, panting as the wizard worked him down to the base and back again, “you are- ah! Surprisingly good at this; you really are a quick learner!”

Giving a self-satisfied little hum around the throbbing appendage, Gale hollowed his cheeks to add to the delicious friction as he released the elf’s hips to let him fuck up into his mouth. With a spark of inspiration, the wizard moved his hands to his own face to stroke circles into his cheeks with his thumbs, massaging Astarion’s cock through his skin.

“Oh!” He cried out at the new stimulation to his already well worked organ, beginning to pant under Gale’s imaginative approach to sucking him off, “shit, Gale- I’m not going to last much longer!”

Astarion warned his lover as best he could, giving him every chance to pull off, yet Gale continued and doubled his efforts if anything. The hot muscles swallowed around Astarion’s tip, desperately coaxing him to release, Gale’s hands pulling in his hips to keep the cock as deep in his gullet as possible.

With a flick of Gale’s deep chestnut gaze up to meet Astarion’s lust-blown rubies, the elf let out a loud groan, his climax crashing over him, jets of icy seed shooting down Gale’s throat.

“Fuck, fuck, Gale!” Astarion cried out, his balls twitching as they emptied, “gods, look at you taking it all!”

And true to his words, Gale found himself eagerly swallowing down every thick drop that the vampire had to offer, his throat rippling as he tried to milk him entirely of that salty spend with a low moan of his own.

Satisfied that the elf had no more to give, Gale let Astarion’s flaccid organ slip from his lips with an obscene squelch, moving down to inhale deeply and press a kiss to the elf’s balls. “Was that…acceptable?” He asked semi-playfully, his voice rough with the friction to the back of his throat and the viscous fluid still coating his tongue.

“Are you joking?” Astarion laughed breathlessly, inelegantly slumping forwards as he came down from his high, “I absolutely don’t believe that you’ve never done that before- your technique is inspired! That was absolutely the best head I’ve ever received.”

“Your flattery is appreciated,” the wizard chuckled, stroking a hand along Astarion’s smooth jaw. “I’m glad you enjoyed that- I certainly did. You taste divine, Astarion; I’d wondered if your undead nature would have you tasting terrible, but certainly not- you taste as good as you smell.”

The elf smirked down at Gale as he straightened up, licking his own lips before pulling the man in for a heated, sloppy kiss where he tasted his own essence dancing across the hot tongue. Gale groaned unabashedly into the kiss, fingers tangling in those gleaming curls as the elf’s body fully relaxed into his arms.

“You’re full of surprises, wizard,” Astarion laughed softly against swollen lips. “I’m glad you stayed, and I’m glad I intend to stay.”

“That makes two of us,” Gale whispered with a smile, leaning his forehead against the elf’s as they both felt the double meaning in Astarion’s words. “Thank you for trusting me enough to let me do that for you.”

Astarion simply hummed in response, closing his eyes as he let himself enjoy the shared intimacy of each other’s presence.

Gale threw caution to the wind and dared to let his thoughts wander to the possibilities the future could hold for them, for just a moment visualising the elf bathed in the rich twilight of the Waterdeep sky, the sea a mirror behind him reflecting the stars from beyond the balcony of his tower. He wasn’t sure when this surprisingly domestic fantasy had bloomed, but how he dreamed he could simply hold Astarion there, in his reasonably safe little patch among the chaos of the mortal plane.