Chapter Text
Tav was telling the story of how he’d met Astarion, when a detail caught Gale’s ear, and try as he might couldn’t resist staring at the vampire in question.
“-held a fucking knife to my neck, what was I supposed to think?”
“You were supposed to tell me about the illithid, not try to break my nose, darling. Besides, I apologized, what more did you want, a kiss to make it better?”
Tav reached over to Karlach, and patted her hand fondly, “I don’t believe my hellion would appreciate that.”
Astarion rolled his eyes and caught Gale’s gaze. He raised a perfect eyebrow and smirked at the wizard. “Something on your mind, Gale?”
He shook his head and tried to cover his blush by taking another drink of wine, and turning back to Halsin. Their conversation went on, but whenever Gale would look over, Astarion was watching him thoughtfully.
He couldn’t get his mind off the thought of Astarion holding a blade to his throat, of hearing that silken whisper in his ear. He shifted uncomfortably on the bench at the Elfsong and gave it up as a bad night. He bid his farewells to his friends and went upstairs to try desperately to erase the desire from his thoughts.
He closed the door to his room and slipped off his shoes, and almost screamed as Astarion emerged from the shadows in the corner of the room, idly toying with one of his daggers. “Sorry to take this liberty, but I felt sure you had something to ask me. That perhaps it wasn’t something you wanted the others overhearing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Astarion, I can think of no business we have with each other that couldn’t be said in public.” He knew he wasn’t good at lying, but he hoped the other man would take the hint.
Instead he smirked and gave a pointed look. “So you’d be fine with talking about why you’re so interested in the idea of me holding our beloved leader at a blade’s end when we first met? Simple curiosity? Maybe a little indignation? Certainly not any degree of erotic interest in the subject?” Gale’s expression must have given him away because Astarion pushed off from the wall and walked towards him.
“Let's be honest for a moment, little mage. You want to be taken at knifepoint. You want to feel the kiss of a blade at your throat, you want to feel the drag of it down your body, you want the sweet frisson of danger in your mouth so badly you're likely to spill right in front of me just having this conversation.” Gale was uncharacteristically silent, his eyes on Astarion's clever fingers twirling his blade with buttery grace.
He stepped closer, sinuous and predatory, his voice a low coaxing murmur, “Say yes and we can make that happen. I won’t harm you, I'm very good at what I do. Say no,” he shrugged and sheathed his dagger, holding his empty hands up, “and I leave, and we never acknowledge my little misunderstanding. Which shall it be?”
“I would be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued,” Gale said slowly. “But I have to wonder what's in it for you, Astarion. You can't drink my blood, what are you getting out of this offer?”
“Oh sweetheart, I get to unravel the chosen of a god. As far as power trips go, that's high up on the list. And since I turned down becoming the Vampire Ascendant, I've become…let's say restless. We can't take on the Elder Brain yet, so it’s this or try to find a drinkable vintage here. I went with the surer bet.” He was close to Gale now, so close Gale could smell his perfume and the faintest hint of decay that lingered in the vampire's clothes.
Gale swallowed and looked down at Astarion’s mouth. “So I'm an amusement? A distraction?” He jerked his head and said, “The brothel is just outside of town if you’d like a quick tumble, that’s probably more to your liking.”
Astarion’s smile grew sharper, “I’m intimately familiar with the location of all the whorehouses in Baldur’s Gate, friend, and you know why. And if you think I’ve ever needed to pay for sex, you're much mistaken. But I’m not after professional attention, it’s all perfectly simple. I want you. And you want me. Tell me I’m wrong and we’ll never speak of this again.”
Gale backed up and realized he was pressed against the door. He could leave. He could tell Astarion to leave…but Astarion wasn’t wrong. He did want what he was being offered, and it had been a painfully long time since he’d been intimate with anyone. They were both adults, and could certainly use a bit of…tension relief. Astarion was a beautiful man, and much more at ease since they’d killed his master.
He licked his lips and said, “You’re not wrong.”
“I so rarely am,” Astarion purred and closed the final inches between them, moving impossibly fast to pin him to the door and bring the flat of his blade to Gale’s throat. He gave a bloodthirsty grin up into Gale’s eyes. “So. Let’s play.” The hand not holding the blade tipped his chin up and stroked over the pulse in his throat.
“You’re so excitable, so eager already,” he murmured, “I’ve barely touched you, not even a kiss and you’re straining so hard against those trousers. I suppose I could do something about that.” The look in his eyes was wicked as he moved the dagger from Gale’s throat and slid it down to the neck of his tunic. “You know, I never liked this shirt. It’s so worn, and I know you just got a new one yesterday. You don’t mind if I make a few alterations, do you?”
Without waiting for an answer, Astarion ran the blade down the front of the tunic, slicing it cleanly open, exposing Gale’s chest and just grazing the skin there. Gale stifled a moan with effort, his hands clutching uselessly at the flat door behind him.
“Much better,” Astarion said, surveying his handiwork. “I like to see what I’m working with. You’ll do nicely. But,” and here he gave a fake gasp, “I promised to help you with your little problem first. Forgive me, I don’t know where my head is at.” He slid his hands into the waistband of Gale’s trousers, brushing against the head of his cock with cool fingers before dragging the dagger across the fastenings tying them shut. They parted, leaving the trousers loose on Gale’s hips.
“That should provide a little more breathing room,” he remarked, “but we can do better than that.” Astarion slipped the blade down the front of the trousers, a whispering distance from his erection, then slowly down one leg, scraping softly over his thigh. Gale realized at some point he'd stopped breathing, and inhaled sharply as the cloth fell onto the floor, leaving him in a ruined tunic with one trouser leg pooling around his ankles and his undergarments.
“There we are,” Astarion breathed, sitting back on his heels. “Cat got your tongue, wizard? I expected entreaties at least. Broken pleas. Instead you’re silent and pliant as the votary of a particularly kinky god.”
Gale gave a weak laugh, “Well you fit the description at least, even if I don’t. I…didn't expect it to take me this way. Something about the sheer carnality of this scenario is striking a chord.”
“And there's the chatter I've grown used to. So…” he stood back up, running the point of the blade the entire length of Gale’s thighs, up his stomach to just over one nipple, leaving a thin red scratch along its path. “How much blood am I allowed to spill?”
“Ahhhh,” Gale was momentarily shaken out of his haze by that question, “I thought you couldn’t drink my blood.”
“I prefer not to. It’s quite foul, you are correct. But it is terribly decorative, and it seems a pity not to get a taste while I have you here. Besides, you don’t taste worse than a rancid rat.”
“That’s flattery, I think. Ah, try to keep bloodshed to a minimum, please. And nowhere visible?”
Astarion clucked his tongue in mock disappointment, “Oh but you’d look so dashing with a scar over one eye.” He slowly drew the edge right over Gale’s nipple, and then bent to lick the drip that slid down his chest. Gale felt himself grow lightheaded, from lust, from adrenaline, take your pick, but he felt his knees start to buckle and was grateful for the door he’d pressed himself against.
“Aren’t you just precious?” Astarion pulled away and gestured towards the bed, “Up you go, we’re just getting started.”
Gale half stumbled to the bed, kicking the shreds of his trousers off as he went, and was not prepared for the vampire to launch himself at him, landing in a straddle atop him, one hand on his chest pressing him into the sheets, the other still holding his dagger. Gale’s breaths became short, his heart threatening to hammer its way out of his chest. Astarion bent low over his throat and he breathed in deeply, “Gods, you smell delicious like this. Hot and desperate, caught between fear and lust.” He licked a slow stripe up Gale’s neck, ending with an almost playful nip at the earlobe.
Astarion moved to half cover Gale’s body with his own, dragging the knife down from his collarbone along one arm. Gale was acutely aware of his own nudity next to Astarion’s fully clothed form, as well as the path of the blade down his veins, never breaking the skin, but tracing them lightly. Astarion’s mouth was still near his ear as he murmured, “Where do you want me to take this, I wonder? Where would it make you shiver the most? You are shivering, you know, or perhaps it’s just the fact that you’re naked beneath me. Which did you want more, hmm? Me atop you, or me just…” he put the point of the dagger at the edge of Gale’s wrist and made a small puncture below the thumb, “teasing you like this?”
Gale swallowed hard again, and he knew that Astarion noticed from the faint chuckle. He shifted from Gale’s side to sit astride him properly and switched the knife from one hand to the other with a flourish. “I’d clap, but I’m otherwise occupied,” Gale managed to mutter. Astarion surprised him with a giggle, and he felt his stomach drop with something that wasn’t lust or nerves. He wasn’t going to think about it now, because Astarion’s weight was atop his cock and he wanted to grind into him but the rogue had begun to draw intricate designs on Gale’s chest with the knife’s tip, leaving faint red scratches.
“Please tell me you’re not marking me with graffiti of some sort.” He imagined waking up the next day with a dirty limerick scratched into his skin.
Astarion leaned forward, pressing the side of the blade along his ribs, “You didn’t say I couldn’t, darling. Besides, this isn’t your show, it’s mine.” He ran the knife downwards, skimming over the sides of his stomach, leaning on his other elbow, and saying with faux thoughtfulness, “Hm, maybe I’ll make you my new sketchbook for my embroidery designs, would you like that? Marking patterns on your flesh, then recreating them in fabric. Maybe I’d make you a present so you’d match on the outside.”
An odd, feral desire swept over Gale at the thought of being marked as Astarion’s…what? Victim? Property? Conquest? Not lover, he thought firmly, that word has nothing to do here, this is curiosity satisfied, lust slaked, a bit of pleasure with a sting.
As though reading his thoughts, Astarion moved off of Gale and gestured for him to roll over. Gale’s heart flipped as he moved, and Astarion said, “Right, this next part is very delicate indeed, and I suspect you’ll be…twitchy. Luckily for you, I came prepared.” He drew a scroll out of his pocket and showed it to Gale. Hold Person.
He felt his palms start to sweat but tried to sound unruffled, “Very sensible of you. Uncommonly so, come to that.”
“I’m quite meticulous when I’ve a mind to be,” Astarion purred, and pulled Gale’s legs into a more accommodating position, spreading them wider, putting the knees lower. When Astarion had him arranged to his satisfaction, he stepped around to Gale’s face. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”
Such uncharacteristic concern made Gale blink and stammer, “Ah, no, I..I’m quite fine. Thank you.” Well done, you sound like you’re talking to a waiter, not about to get railed by a vampire with a knife.
Astarion nodded and said, “Good. If you want to stop for any reason,” he tapped the side of his head, “our little friends can help you out, for once.” Gale didn’t bother to tell him he could probably break the spell with very little effort on his part, but it was kindly meant, and he appreciated it. He closed his eyes and braced himself.
The spell broke over him, freezing him in place, and Astarion immediately slapped his ass hard. “Just testing, darling!” he sang out, plainly amused with himself. Gale felt himself being straddled from behind, the vampire sitting on his lower back, slowly dragging the knife blade along Gale’s spine. He understood now why the vampire wanted him absolutely still, and just relaxed into the sensations across his skin, the slight pain, the drag, the shivering chill of metal against him.
Every pinprick, every point of contact between him and Astarion made him ache with desire. He could feel himself dripping precome onto the sheets beneath him, could feel every heartbeat pumping blood downwards with want, with anticipation. Another part of him wanted to drag this out, to see how long it would take Astarion to succumb to the lust in himself. Gale knew the vampire was hard, could feel him pressing into his back as he lay forward across his back, could feel his tongue drawing lines after the blade, tracing kisses across his shoulders. He felt Astarion’s nose against the back of his neck, his hand sweeping hair away impatiently to kiss the sensitive skin there.
“I’ve tested your patience long enough, I think,” he said, his voice rough and low. “I’m going to release the spell. Lie on your stomach with your legs apart and wait for me.” Gale felt the spell fade, and flopped onto the bed. Even if he hadn’t been instructed to do so, he probably would have landed that way after so long in one position.
He heard cloth rustling behind him, and looked over his shoulder. He saw that Astarion wouldn't be getting undressed for him, and felt a twinge of disappointment. The vampire grinned at him and said, “Maybe if you're good, you'll get the full show. As it is, you only get the headliner.”
He swayed forward and pinned Gale under him faster than he'd anticipated. He could feel Astarion's cock against his ass, shockingly warm as compared to the vampire's hands which had been all over him. His right hand held the dagger against Gale’s throat from behind, while his other hand was slick with something and working along his asshole.
“So here we are then, right where you wanted to be. How fortunate you must feel, sweetheart, knowing that I'm back here working you open, so eager to have me inside of you but not daring to move lest I slip,” his mouth was against Gale’s ear, and a wet tongue licked just above the knife’s blade.
Two fingers were deftly working away, pulling him open, just ghosting over his sweet spot, making him gasp, which brought the blade tighter against his throat. “Tsk,” Astarion said, “be still, or you'll make a dreadful mess for some servant to clean. Wouldn't your face be red, then? Along with the rest of you.”
Gale swallowed carefully, his aching cock heavy against the bed as while tried to stay still as Astarion seemed good on his threat of taking him apart.
“Are you ready, wizard? Or would you rather I make it hurt?” The last word was purred rather than spoken and Gale let out a soft whimper before he could help it.
“Mmm, well then.” The vampire slid into him hard, his hips thudding against Gale’s ass, the burn of the sudden thrust making Gale gasp and squirm. Astarion stayed there for a moment and then began to pump in and out, one hand on Gale’s back, the other creeping his blade further down his neck until it rested just over his jumping pulse.
“Gods,” Astarion murmured absently, “you’re perfect.” He leaned down and nipped at the other side of his neck, purring into Gale’s ear, “So hot around me, such a perfect little rabbit beneath me, your heart playing beautiful music under my hands. I could do this for hours, you know. Just listening to you gasp, hearing your moans, knowing it's me you're so needy for. Would you like that?”
His words were growing more ragged, but Gale was lost under his words and his merciless rhythm. “I–” the rest of the sentence wouldn’t form on his tongue. Astarion pulled out suddenly, and said, “On your back. I want to see you when you melt for me.”
Gale rolled over and gazed up at Astarion; still fully dressed with his cock out, hair disheveled, eyes black with lust, knife in hand waiting. Watching him like a cat sighting a bird to pounce on. He had been in the presence of a literal goddess, yet even Mystra’s regard seemed a passive thing compared to the heat of Astarion’s stare. She had been affectionate at times, but cool, at a remove. The ache inside of him now, the tide of longing was neither, it was immediate and real.
He was pulled from this reverie by Astarion bending low over him and pressing cool lips to his own. Sweet hells, the vampire had been inside of him and they’d never even kissed. Astarion was making up for it now, his tongue darting inside of Gale’s mouth, lips soft but insistent against his own, one hand fisted in Gale’s hair, the whole of his body pinning him down, his cock against Gale’s stomach, warm compared to the mouth on his.
Astarion pulled away and gave a feral grin before lining himself back up between Gale’s legs. He pushed inwards with a soft groan and closed his eyes for just a moment before looking down at Gale again. “If you will indulge me once more?” He scored a shallow cut along Gale’s chest and lapped at the blood that trickled down, moving slowly inside of him at the same time. Gale would have liked to have said that the sounds he made were more dignified than a whine, but that would have been patently untrue. He worked his hips against Astarion, desperate for him to move faster, to tip him over that final edge.
Finally he gasped, “Please!”
“Show me,” Astarion panted, “show me how much you love this. How much you need this…” Mercifully he’d sped up, his thrusts brushing Gale’s sweet spot, making him shudder and clench around Astarion. His climax broke over him, and Astarion kissed him again, muffling his cries with his mouth before pulling out. He propped Gale up in his arms and stroked himself, his own come mixing with Gale’s on his stomach, his lips never breaking the kiss.
“Nine Hells,” Gale wheezed, pulling away, “you…” He swallowed and tried again, “If that was just a bit of fun for you, I'd hate to imagine what serious intercourse is for you.”
Astarion giggled and shoved at Gale, “Are you a school teacher? Did you just call that ‘intercourse'? My dear, we fucked.” He looked around the room and asked, “Right, where do you keep your towels? Let's get you cleaned up. No helping what you've done to my ensemble, I suppose.”
Gale made a gesture, and the dried blood and spend disappeared from the two of them. “Handy!” Astarion remarked, tucking himself away. He looked the other man over, “Nothing but some cosmetic damage, as promised. If you want a potion, I've got one, but you shouldn't need it.”
“No, I'm quite well, thank you,” Gale said, finding his own oddly formal tone completely at odds with the situation. “I will admit, I don’t know what to say next. I'm not in the habit of er…”
“You don’t fuck and run? Shocking!” Astarion widened his eyes playfully and stood up. “Luckily, I am the master of casual entanglements. And I don't even have to lure you anywhere to be drained, how fortunate!”
He sobered for a moment and bent to kiss Gale again, just a brush this time, a thank you? A promise? Astarion murmured, “Do let me know if you have anything else you'd like to explore, hmm? I'm quite helpful, when I want to be.”
Gale was left sitting alone in his room, naked, marked by a vampire, and reasonably certain that somewhere along the way, things had gotten complicated.