Chapter Text
“I don’t know about this,” Gale protested, even as he kept pace with the men either side of him, the three walking with arms linked at the elbow like old comrades. Which, in many ways, they were.
To his left, Wyll had a softer smile, deceptively innocent compared to the devilish whisper in his ear. “You will be quite alright with the Blade of the Frontiers to protect you from the terrifying vampire and his insatiable lust.”
“No need to listen to him, darling, I am certain you can sate my desires perfectly~” Astarion’s voice was less quiet on the other side, colouring Gale’s cheeks a far deeper shade of crimson as they reached the end of the balcony walkway to the room the pair had booked earlier.
“Yes, well, but…isn’t it a bit obvious? Coming here?” He glanced around, checking to see whether anyone had noticed the trio entering Sharess’ Caress.
“We’re investigating the disappearance, remember?” Wyll smiled far too sweetly once more as Astarion opened the door to the decadent room.
“And I can tell you have plenty of clues hiding in those robes of yours.” Astarion smirked, ushering the pair inside and locking the door behind them.
“Now remember,” Wyll said, stepping in close to Gale and holding his cheeks between battle-calloused hands, “if you’re not comfortable, if you want to stop at any time, you just tell us.” The warlock pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, leaving Gale to turn his head and seek those gentle lips as all touch withdrew.
“Counterspell,” Astarion replaced Wyll in his view, crimson eyes locking on his own seeking the answer, “say the word, or tap out the rhythm of it. Do you understand?”
“...fitting, I suppose. Counterspell…” Gale turned the word over on his tongue, testing the rhythm with his fingers on his thigh, momentarily lost in the thought. He didn’t notice the vampire’s grin, nor the swift motion that pulled him into a hungry kiss - where Wyll was chaste, soft, Astarion was sharp and passionate.
By the time their lips parted, Gale was breathless, soft moans still echoing in the back of his throat. He realised, rather suddenly, that Wyll was already half undressed, his arms wrapping now around Astarion’s waist. “You are sure he’s ready for this?”
The vampires pale hand reached up, slender fingers caressing the base of Wyll’s demonic horns. “Darling, he
needs
this - not only has he been losing sleep to those delicious little dreams of his, but the tadpole has been quite generous in sharing them whilst I’ve been in a trance.”
Gale felt his cheeks turning an even deeper shade, ears near burning as he realised the meaning behind those words, dreading to wonder exactly which fantasies the nasty illithid creature had decided were not to remain private. But, as it was too late for the cat to be put back in the bag, and the pair were quite clearly happy to oblige his desires… “I…am quite ready.” He shuffled slightly, as he stood, feeling the heat beginning to sink through his body as he realised he could still taste the vampire’s kiss on his swiftly drying lips. “I think.”
“You see? He’s just fine~” Astarion gave him a more sympathetic look for a moment. “We do have one ground rule though, no magic. You are here, with us. That is all you need.”
“But the Weave can enhan-”
Astarion’s finger pressed against Gale’s lips, cool, slender,
firm
. “Shh. You won’t need it, not tonight.” The vampire tilted his head back, stealing Wyll’s lips into a kiss, the sounds of sensual moans stirring between them as the wizard could only watch silently, his voice and words lost in the promise of what was to follow.
That single fingertip remained at his lips, too, each second that ticked by turning it from a warning to an invitation.
Gale accepted it.
Cautiously, he began to kiss, chaste and gentle, until Astarion moved to slip into his mouth. The vampire’s skin was a little cold, an edge of bitterness as he tested his tongue along it, beginning to suck suggestively as Astarion responded with a low moan. Gale stepped a little closer, the hook of the elf’s finger reeling him in gradually, as he let his own hands begin to loosen the vampire’s clothing.
Silk and leather were hard to unfasten in the heat of the moment, as Gale tried to split his attentions between the work of his tongue and his slightly trembling fingers. At times like these, he might summon a Mage Hand to do his bidding, but that had already been forbidden, and would also be quite challenging with his words silenced by Astarion’s hand.
Eventually, the vampire withdrew it, moving instead to thread a gentle grip through Gale’s hair and pull him in to join the kiss.
Between horns, the difficulty in their positions, and the quite simply mind-numbing lust stirring in the air between them, it became challenging to tell where one ended and the next began. Lips parting and combining again, breathless passion blending with tender affection as the three began to give way to desire that had been on a low boil for a long time.
—
Several long minutes later, or at least as far as he could tell, Gale found himself ushered over to the huge bed by his half-undressed companions. Astarion climbed onto the silken sheets behind him, while Wyll knelt on the soft fur rug at his feet.
Trapped between a Blade and a sharp place,
Gale thought to himself as Wyll began to pull off his boots and parted his robes, whilst Astarion worked to undo his belt, kissing along the line of his neck - right above his thrumming pulse.
“I thought you said my blood was sour, not safe for your delicate constitution?” He found himself questioning the vampire, the edge of wicked fangs teasing at his skin.
“Perhaps you’re something of an acquired taste ,” Astarion purred, nipping playfully at his ear, “stop stalling now, these are coming off before I take a single sip.”
“Gods, you are beautiful…” Wyll’s voice was a reverent whisper, almost a prayer, as Gale’s clothes were gently but firmly removed. The warlock began to press soft kisses against his bare skin, beginning just above the ankle and working slowly towards his knee.
Gale shivered as Astarion followed suit in another way, starting with the back of his hand, turning it to kiss his inner wrist. “Sensitive here, love?” The smirk preceded the light prick of fangs, not piercing, but sharpening the kiss with that slight hint of pain that brought a rush of adrenaline and a soft moan to Gale’s voice. “Mmmm not yet, just enjoy us for now~”
The wizard found himself naturally leaning back against Astarion’s chest as the vampire continued to tease at his wrist, a pale arm curling around him to caress the silvered lines of old scars on his chest. “Those are-”
“Beautiful.” Wyll interrupted, looking up from between his knees once more with an expression of absolute sincerity. “Life has ways of changing us all, and you are a marvel.”
Gale’s heart thudded harder beneath ribs feeling the gentle touch of Astarion’s fingers still, the orb beginning to glow with the heat that coursed through his whole body. The temptation to thread his fingers through the Weave was almost unbearable, the desire to conjure forth the spells he would usually employ with a partner, to give back to the men who were so determined to worship his body from head to toe…but the rule remained, and he allowed the power to simply hum around him with a comforting glow.
“That’s it, darling, relax~” Astarion kissed further up his arm, hand drifting lower to where his arousal pooled with heat betwixt tensed thighs that found it hard to follow that simple instruction. “Let go, let us taste your desire from the source.”
Wyll’s lips were already halfway up Gale’s inner thigh now, slowly and purposefully adoring every single moment, tongue occasionally teasing at sensitive points that made his breath catch in his throat. “Gods, I’ve dreamed of this…” The warlock’s voice barely a murmur, finding the first taste of arousal that had dripped down Gale’s leg in the ever-growing anticipation. “The finest wine could not compare.”
Astarion’s kiss reached his neck now too, the graze of sharp teeth betraying the vampire’s hunger. “I promise you, Gale, I will not take too much.”
He could feel the smile between his thighs with Wyll’s addition. “He’s been practising, with permission of course. It’s…you’ll see.” The warlock’s tongue left the thought unfinished in the air, instead flicking out to tease at Gale’s entrance, a wanton moan adding a slight vibration as Wyll lost himself to desire, beginning to drink from the well of his arousal like a half-starved beast.
“Oh…oh gods-” Once more the wizard’s voice was cut short by overwhelming sensation as Astarion penetrated the soft flesh of his neck, daggers of ice bringing forth blood that burned with lust. The pain was almost instantly soothed by the caress of the vampire’s tongue, mirroring the warlock beneath in ways that made Gale’s head spin as his eyes fluttered closed in bliss.
The trail Astarion’s fingers had been following ended at the stiffened peak of Gale’s arousal, utilising the slick brought up by Wyll’s tongue, taking a careful hold and sliding along the protrusion much in the same manner he wished to grasp the hardened length pressing into his lower back. Which, most certainly, he would, if there were a single coherent thought left in his mind. Instead, all he managed to voice was a low blend of syllables that floated in amidst the lascivious sounds of the two men drinking deeply from him as his fists gripped the silken sheets in a vain attempt to ground himself.
It was, of course, almost impossible.
Wyll’s hands took hold of his hips, a firm but gentle pressure staying him from the desire to press closer as the warlock continued to devour and tease, occasionally flicking up to where Astarion’s fingers teased and toyed with him. Each little lick that strayed up carried with it that electric jolt of extra stimulation, just on the right side of
too much
, whimpers escaping from somewhere deep within his throat even as the vampire took his meal from it.
It was clear that Wyll had told the truth, though nothing quite could have prepared the wizard for the passion with which Astarion sucked at the wounds. It wasn’t a kiss, nor was it the bite of an animal consuming its food without a second thought. There was a deliberate sensuality, a sweetness coloured with lust that painted his neck with crimson and desire.
“Oh,
gods…
” The same words were all that finally found their way to the wizard’s tongue as he felt himself quite thoroughly coming undone between his pair of lovers. He forced his mind and body to obey, pulling every last thread of conscious thought into moving his hands from where they were almost ripping the sheets.
One found purchase on Wyll’s horn, earning a delighted growl that he could feel reverberating deep into his core as the man’s tongue pressed suddenly deeper, seeking every little point of arousal even as Gale became momentarily concerned about the possibility of his lover drowning betwixt his thighs.
The other hand reached up and back, fingers threading through the soft white curls of Astarion’s hair, the elf’s similarly approving moan vibrating against his neck. For one moment, he felt the sudden and deep loss of the bite as the vampire withdrew to whisper in his ear.
“That’s it, Gale. The gods. Let every last bastard one of them hear you, and know that tonight you belong to
us
.”