Archive of Our Own

It had been almost a fortnight since they cleansed Cazador’s palace. His brothers and sisters were somewhere, lost in the Underdark, and the faces of those starving spawn were a new and unwelcome backdrop in his nightmares. Astarion sighed and swirled the wine in his glass around. He meant what he said to the Gur matriarch, killing them was a kindness. But it did not undo the evil it took to lock them up and starve them for so long.

He took a sip and wrinkled his nose. Ithbank. He leaned out the nearest window and poured the glass out, without a care for who would see. Amongst the tadpole’s many splendored gifts, was the ability to get drunk. While he liked the feeling of letting go, he still had standards. Dosk said he drank too much, but who knew how much longer he could do this? Astarion was going to enjoy everything about these blasted tadpoles while he still could.

Astarion placed the glass down on a fine oak table. Being in in the Eflsong as a guest and not a constantly prowling hunter felt almost nice. Astarion had to admit, he was impressed when Dosk had secured the large room without charge. Astarion almost laughed when he saw the innkeeper's face blanche at the mention of the murders and how it would ruin the business. Even he would not have been able to extort such a deal. A shame the drow was committed to grand acts of heroism, when he could be using that wicked tongue in service of higher causes, like cult leader of stupid fish people or perhaps first consort to a great ascended vampire lord. All the cunning and aspirational drow in Faerun, and Astarion had to fall in love with a gallant one. He sighed with an affectionate smile.

Down below, Dosk was training with Lae’zel in the courtyard. A naturally gifted sorcerer, he had no need for martial training but he insisted on keeping fit and had a soft spot for communing with the Githyanki warrior. His copper scales and the sweat on his aubergine skin glinted in the golden evening light, not unpleasantly so and Astarion allowed himself to stare. They were open-hand fighting and of course Lae’zel was the better fighter, but anyone could see she had nothing but respect and affection for their haughty leader. Though she won two out of every three matches she offered her hand to Dosk to lift him up every time. Astarion knew she had eyes for Dosk before he did, even before Gale did, but Dosk chose him. His smile widened into a curling grin and he preened, twirling one of his curls around his fingers.

“Star,” Wyll’s voice called out from behind him.

Astarion’s ears pricked as he turned his head slightly to look at Wyll from the corner of his eye, “Hm?”

“Karlach, Shadowheart and I are going to the Blushing Mermaid for a drink. They want a change of scenery and I want to avoid being a third in a crowd, if you know what I mean. You wanna come?” Wyll’s voice was earnest, but it may as well have fallen on deaf ears.

Astarion used to be a regular at the Blushing Mermaid, too. Plenty of beautiful young sailors looking for comfort during their few days in Baldur’s Gate, jumping at the opportunity Astarion laid out for them on a platter.

“No, darling, I shan’t save you this evening,” Astarion turned around for Wyll to see his face, arranged in a false pitying pout, “I’ve other plans.” He didn’t, but haunting his old hunting grounds wasn’t exactly appealing, at this moment.

“Ah, it was worth a try,” Wyll laughed, “Don’t brood too much tonight, Star. You’re a free man. Enjoy it.”

Though Astarion knew Wyll did not speak those words lightly, having recently broken his own pact, the word ‘free’ caused a lump in his stomach to harden and freeze over. He swallowed before replying, “I am enjoying myself thoroughly, thank you.” He cleared his throat and shooed Wyll away with his hand, “Now run along. You may get lucky and find out that in some situations, three is the right number.” It was still easier to slip into salacious flirtation than it was to breathe.

Astarion smirked and let his fangs poke out and Wyll rolled his eyes letting out breathy chuckle. “See you later, Star.” He headed to the stairs and Astarion was left alone again.

He looked back down into the courtyard to see that Dosk and Lae’zel were taking a break to stretch. Dosk was on his back and Lae’zel had her hands wrapped around his ankles, pushing them back, almost to his ears. They were talking but still far enough away that Astarion could only make out the occasional ‘ghaik’ or ‘istik’. Astarion thought it was cute how Dosk would use the Gith words, too.

Astarion did not consider himself a jealous man, but the sight did raise his eyebrows. He knew he wasn’t jealous when Dosk first asked him about Halsin’s intentions. Of course, when Dosk came to him with news of Halsin’s declaration of interest, almost uncharacteristically unsure and nervous, Astarion felt a twinge of doubt. Their lack of sexual intimacy was something Astarion was never lucky enough to try before and the hulking druid was the walking antithesis to their newly chaste romance.

The old man exuded sex from the musk he sported, due to his lack of regular bathing, to his quick but passionate monologues extolling the virtues of nature. More than once, when Astarion was hunting his own game, he had found the druid nude in the woods. Astarion knew that city life must be chafing on him.

Be that as it may, Astarion believed Dosk when he said that what they had was different. Dosk had proved it with every soft touch on Astarion’s face and every morning they awoke together fully clothed, Dosk’s foul morning breath light on Astarion’s neck. He never asked for anything more than Astarion was willing to give and it all felt like a storybook. Of course, he noticed when Dosk would go off with Halsin somewhere deep into the forest and when they would sit together by the fire and Dosk would insist on combing out Halsin’s hair. Astarion found that he was not only okay with it, he liked it. Not only were both men sculpted by some gracious god, Astarion found that he liked to see them happy together. And their happiness did not detract from what Astarion shared with Dosk.

In fact, Dosk seemed to treasure this new chapter in their relationship, in part because of what he experienced with Halsin. Their night together, sprawled across Astarion’s grave reverently clawing at each other with passionate candor, was accentuated by a sense of respect and gratitude.

Before the Shadowfell, and Astarion’s confession for his desire to take things slowly, Astarion wasn’t sure of what he and Dosk had. Most of their prior trysts were blurred in his mind’s eye, rife with pockets of darkness where memories ought to be. He recalled moments of genuine happiness and surpise, though mostly frustration with Dosk’s bleeding heart. The man was willing to strike down any of their group’s antagonists, but had to risk everyone’s life to save every last gnome and tiefling in that blasted prison. Astarion allowed himself a smile and eyeroll. In that disgusting tower, Astarion saw that Dosk wasn’t like anyone he’d ever known.

Breaking himself from his current meditation on his relationship, he looked down to see that Lae’zel had pretzeled Dosk into a position Astarion had only experienced once about a century ago with an experienced acrobat. Dosk was wincing and Lae’zel was chiding him loudly. The sight coaxed a quiet laugh from Astarion, interrupted by light footsteps behind him.

“He’s wonderful to watch, isn’t he?” Halsin murmured.

Astarion turned to look at Halsin, his face inscrutable. While he approved of, and even relished the druid’s presence in Dosk’s life, he was still uncertain as to where they stood with each other. Allies? Friends? Partners?

“Even if we don’t always agree, darling, you know we’re both in the same camp on that issue,” Astarion eyebrows rose when he saw a bottle in the druid’s large hand. “Planning to have a little fun this evening? It seems as though our shared paramour is occupied.”

“Ha, I see that,” Halsin said before raising the bottle and offering it to Astarion. It was a little dusty and the label was moldy, but there was no mistaking it, “I heard you mention this once when you were complaining about the selection downstairs. I figured you might like it.”

Astarion hesitated, “Where did you find this? Cazador only ever managed to find a handful for his personal store.” It was a regional sparkling wine, crafted in the Moonshae Isles by Selunite priests. It could only be brewed during certain mooncycles, or whatever other mystical tripe they adhered themselves to. 

“Well, you know how Dosk is. We don’t leave until we’ve checked every crate, no matter what. He happened to miss this one,” Halsin offered the bottle again, “Please, take it.”

Astarion laughed loudly, “Ha! You know he almost got himself killed going through some Cloudkill for a pair of hideous trousers?” He turned the bottle around in his hand to inspect the label. It was unlike Dosk to miss anything when he started to scour a room, but at least someone in the party knew what a real treasure was.

“Yes, I believe it,” Halsin’s eyes twinkled, “He had me turn into an owlbear so that he could climb my back to open a crate of forks hidden in some rafters.”

“I’m sure that’s not the only time he’s asked to climb you like that,” Astarion began to fuss with the bottle’s cork. It was stuck.

“No, it isn’t,” Halsin replied, quiet and honest. Astarion cast a furtive look out the corner of his eye, but was caught when he saw Halsin watching him intently, the slightest smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Though Astarion knew he must have been a prize stud in his youth, he also knew that the man had aged just as well as the bottle he was currently struggling with.

Before Astarion could reply, Halsin stepped closer. “Is it alright if I help?” He held his hand over Astarion’s, not quite touching, but close enough that the vampire could feel the living heat.

Astarion looked Halsin directly in the eye to find bold intention, laid out so clearly that if anyone walked in now they would have no doubt as to what the druid was doing. Curiosity whirled through Astarion, turning something low in his abdomen, “Sure.”

Immediately, Halsin’s hands clasped over Astarion’s to wind their fingers around the tip of the bottle. His eyes left Astarion’s only for a moment while his thumb found the bottom of the cork. Returning his gaze back to Astarion’s, he applied a light pressure, the rest of his fingers pressing lightly in Astarion’s hands. The cork popped free and the bottle fizzed over, bubbles running down their hands.

“Ah!” Astarion exclaimed, pulling his hands and the bottle away from Halsin’s without trouble. Their hands were coated in white fizz and Halsin stopped to inspect his own hands.

He raised one to his face and inhaled, smelling the spilled product, “A honied sparkling wine?” He asked, seemingly amused by the idea.

Astarion placed the bottle down to find a rag to clean up his hands. They were already starting to feel sticky, “Ugh, yes. Even the blasted bees are supposed to be blessed by Selune.”

“Hm,” was Halsin’s only reply. When Astarion looked back up, Halsin was licking his palm, tasting the wine, his hazel eyes focused on Astarion, “I didn’t take you for someone who enjoyed sweeter flavors, Astarion.”

Astarion raised one eyebrow and wondered what Dosk would say if he saw this. “I usually don't. My palate tends toward the dark and dry, but I can always be swayed by an exceptional vintage.” Again, this game was easy enough to play.

“Well, I’m glad to hear your tastes vary.” Halsin’s half smile accentuated his crow’s feet and he nodded before dropping to one knee and bending over toward Astarion’s feet.

Though taken aback by the sudden movement, Astarion managed to take half a step back with feline grace. When Halsin’s head resurfaced he was holding out the cork to Astarion. Even in this position, the druid’s head came up to just below Astarion’s chest. “In case you wanted to savor the bottle.”

Astarion plucked the cork from Halsin’s hand and stowed it away in his pocket. He cleared his throat before replying, “Well, thank you. Now were you expecting an invitation to share or will I be allowed to enjoy this in peace?”

Halsin rose, keeping his eyes on Astarion, “Oh, I wouldn’t dare intrude on your time.” He ran his tongue over the back of his hand, still wet with wine, “I had plans to escape the city this evening and return to my beloved nature. Though I cannot reach the forest quickly from here, the sea is just as wild.”

Astarion poured himself a glass. The liquid was golden and almost fizzed over the rim. “I didn’t take you for a seafarer, Halsin. How adventurous.”

“Yes, it seems as though we’re both interested in a wide array of pleasures,” Halsin replied. He stepped toward the window and paused, “You know, I’m quite relieved you chose your soul over power.”

Astarion huffed out a laugh and sneered, “Yes, yes, everyone is very proud of me and surprised,” he swirled the wine in the glass and raised the rim to inhale deeply. Cloying and seductive.

“I wouldn’t say I’m surprised,” Halsin said, “But I am relieved I have more time to know you. The real you.” He did not wait for a response before wildshaping into a dire raven.

The form of the great bird almost took up the entire window. It looked back at Astarion before clacking its beak and taking flight, leaving Astarion with much to ponder.

——-

“Hello love,” Dosk leaned in over Astarion as if waiting. Astarion was readying himself for the morning, strapping his leather gauntlets on when Dosk had appeared behind him.

In response, Astarion angled his cheek upward in offering. Dosk brushed his lips against Astarion’s cheek before knocking their foreheads together. It was soft and sweet and everything Astarion didn’t dare dream of wanting for two centuries.

“How was your trance?” Dosk asked. They had slept apart last night, Dosk reduced to a whining mess from his training with Lae’zel, but it was part of their routine to see each other in the morning, no matter where the other had been the night before.

“Quite wonderfully, truth be told,” Astarion answered, “It gets better every day.” A lie. Last night he dreamt of rats, rats, rats, crawling everywhere, tugging at his skin and Cazador’s laugh. He broke his trance scratching his skin and dry heaving, using a health potion and some wine to curb the pain.

Dosk smiled, crinkling the copper scales around his eyes, “If you say so, love.” Astarion knew that Dosk knew. Dosk always knew when he was lying, even from the beginning. Dosk stepped back and Astarion didn’t have to turn around to know that he paused by the table, “What’s this?” Astarion heard him pick up the half-emtpy bottle of sparkling wine.

“Halsin gave it to me,” Astarion chuckled, “He said you missed it in a crate down in the sewers.”

“Well, first of all, I don’t miss anything in crates,” Dosk muttered, “But this is a rather sumptuous gift! I think mother only ever had one bottle.”

“Oh, has the drow princeling tasted even this forbidden flavor?” Astarion asked. He finished equipping his daggers and turned to Dosk. Dosk never liked to bring it up, but Astarion was secretly fascinated by his history as a young lord in the Seldarine court.

The large sorcerer rolled his eyes and scoffed, “When will you admit that I’m older than you?” He placed the bottle down gently.

“When you start acting like it, darling,” Astarion moved closer to Dosk and placed a gloved hand on his arm, “Were you hoping for a taste?”

“Oh, gods no,” Dosk shook his head with a slight grimace, “Even as a child I didn’t like mead. No, love, you enjoy every last drop. You deserve it.” He cupped Astarion’s face and leaned in before pausing.

Astarion closed the gap between them to give Dosk a full kiss, letting his fangs rake across Dosk’s tongue to draw a little blood. Dosk gasped into the kiss and dragged his hands down to the small of Astarion’s back, pulling the vampire closer. Astarion sighed into the kiss and smiled. “Good” Astarion finally replied, “Because I wasn’t planning on sharing.” He leaned in for another kiss.

“Ahem,” someone coughed behind Dosk.

Astarion pulled away slightly to reply, “Go away.”

“No,” it was Jaheira’s voice that rang out firmly and even Astarion knew that it wasn’t worth getting in her way.

“Ugh, is everyone in this sorry excuse for a party always trying to ruin my fun on purpose?” Astarion pouted and looked up at Dosk through his eyelashes. Dosk raised his eyebrows slightly before taking a deep breath and turning to face Jaheira.

She stood with her hands on her hips, one eyebrow cocked, and thoroughly unamused, “Some of us still have our own important business in the city. Dosk, I have new word of Minsc’s location. We should act now.”

At Minsc’s name Dosk’s ears perked up, “Of course, I’ll be with you in a moment.” He pressed one last kiss to the corner of Astarion’s mouth before walking away with Jaheira. He called back one last time to Astarion, “Love, it looks like you may be on the bench today.”

“All dressed up and nowhere to go. Again,” Astarion said petulantly and crossed his arms, “I’m starting to think you don’t want to unlock all those chests full of rotten cheese!”

Dosk only replied, “Go have fun in the city, Astarion. It’s yours now.”

“Yes, yes, enough with the flirting, we’re losing time,” Jaheira led Dosk down the stairs and Astarion was left alone.

He sighed again before changing back into his civilian clothes. He peered out the window to check the weather. Grey clouds churned over the city, threatening rain, but Astarion didn’t want to waste another moment of daywalking. The sunlight was beautiful and precious, even through the dark clouds.

_________

Astarion found himself on the docks. It still hadn’t rained and occasionally the sun would peek from behind a black cloud. His earlier visit to Razmith’s Tower yielded no great profane artifacts for his use, only pithy banter from that uppity tiefling wizard. Gods know why Dosk was so insistent on saving his life over and over.

In the time before the tadpole, he would come to the docks to find the younger fisherfolk, struggling to mend their nets in the dark of night. A few drinks at the Blushing Mermaid had them forget their marine troubles and then it was a quick, stumbling walk over to Cazador. Astarion hoped that at some point, in his neverending life, he’d be able to populate his mind and this city with more memories of happiness than regret.

Around him, the fishermen were still nervous as the great poisonous beast had yet to be dealt with. Every time Dosk made up his mind to apprehend its master, those blasted Steel Watchers seemed to have their own agenda to lock him up. The idea of a great poisonous beast lurking in the depths would have been pleasant to Astarion if not for the reality of a master that held its yoke. The thought made his lip curl.

He stared into the water, brooding, until he saw a pair of eyes looking back out of the water. Yellow with slits, and trained directly on him and coming closer. He backed away, almost turning to run when a panther clawed its way onto the dock in front of him. Fisherfolk nearby exclaimed, and Astarion held his breath. The panther held his gaze before shaking its body vigorously, spraying filthy water everywhere.

“Ugh, stop, stop, you foul beast!” Astarion exclaimed, stepping back further. The cat seemed harmless, if not a nuisance.

The panther did so before looking back at Astarion. For a split second, Astarion could swear he’d met the cat before, but then its skin melted off in an even messier display of refuse. It was Halsin standing before Astarion, somehow bone dry despite being submerged in filthy harbor water only seconds prior.

“Well met, Astarion,” Halsin was smiling down at Astarion clearly amused.

“If only I could say the same,” Astarion replied darkly, shaking his arms, trying to rid himself of the harbor’s essence.

“Ah, my apologies,” Halsin said, bowing his head, “I forget myself sometimes in wildshape. I hope you can forgive me.”

Astarion huffed and rolled his eyes, “I supposed I can find it in my heart to do so.” He tried to assess the damage to his hair, but then decided he didn’t want to think about it, “Especially after your kindness yesterday.”

Halsin’s face split into a large smile, “I take it you liked your gift?”

Astarion looked up at Halsin and returned the smile, “Yes, it was… lovely.”

A pause, before Astarion looked away and cleared his throat. “Pray tell, what would possess you to swim in that foul water?”

The druid responded, “Ah, well, it has not been easy for me to find respite within the city’s walls. I find myself looking for nature’s embrace wherever I can.” He waved a large arm out over the docks, “While this may pale in comparison to the natural beauty of the Southern Sword Coast, I found many animals and plants I had never seen before. And, the panther does not seem to mind the smell.” He shrugged.

“Well, as fascinating as that seems, and darling, I am happy for you and your…. discovery,” Astarion paused to look behind him at the sprawling metropolis, “There are other pleasures to be found in the city.” Not quite a lie, as Astarion knew nothing of the city but its darkest corners, but he heard stories. Some of them were probably true.

Astarion turned back to see Halsin staring at him. “I’m sure there are,” Halsin murmured, “Perhaps, seeing as you are the more experienced of the two of us in these matters, you could be persuaded to show me?”

Astarion’s mouth ran dry, “Perhaps. Though, your little bottle of wine will only put you in my good graces for so long, you know,” He took a deep breath. “I think I have some time to show you around later. Care to meet me at Bloomridge Park at sunset?”

“I would,” Halsin nodded slowly, “And perhaps, I can find something new by then to keep me in your good graces longer.”

“Oh, don’t hurt yourself, darling,” Astarion waved him off, “It takes more than a cheap trinket to impress me.”

“That,” Halsin replied, “I do know. See you soon, Astarion.”

__________

They had parted easily, Halsin lingering by the docks to observe some disgusting plant growing on the side of a dinghy and Astarion choosing to hunt game in the sewers. Though Dosk was generous and kind enough to let Astarion feed on him every night, it was not enough to sustain their active lifestyle.

In his honest hunt for rats, he was ambushed by an Absolutist. Not wanting to be wasteful, he handily took care of the threat to his person and his hunger in one fell swoop.

As he wiped the excess blood from his chin, he thought about his new free life. It was so young, so fragile. Though he was aged by some standards, he knew so little of actually living. Dosk— kind, sweet, beautiful, patient Dosk, had waited for him. Astarion knew he would continue to wait, but would the rest of the world?

It wouldn’t, Astarion understood that, and there would always be more of it to experience. He just had to figure out what he wanted.

For a time, he thought he wanted power. That turned out to be fear talking. There was even a time he thought he wanted mindless sex. That was fear again. He still wants money and luxurious things, but the rest of it is a mystery.

Having sated his hunger thoroughly, there was no need to stay in these horrid sewers. He started to make his way to an exit when he heard footsteps and metal scraping on stone. He stealthily made his way closer to the source of the noise and peered around a corner to find the tiefling child Withers took a shine to. She was standing over the body of some poor sod and laughing nervously.

“You’re getting quite good at that,” Astarion stepped out from the shadows to greet Arabella.

“Oh!” the girl was startled but smiled once she recognized him, “You! You’re that vampire my friend likes, right? Fangs or something?”

She spent too much time around Karlach. “No, my dear. It’s Astarion.” He looked down at the body. Some petty thief no doubt, “What happened here?”

“She tried to jump me for some coin,” Arabella shrugged, “Jokes on her because I don’t even have any.” The vines beneath her feet were twisting and growing. What sorts of wild magic would she unleash as she came into her power?

“Jokes, indeed,” Astarion murmurs, impressed by her confidence. “What exactly have you been doing down here this whole time?”

“Learning, exploring,” she shrugged again, “I think I’m gonna make this my lair.” She looked around the alcove and nodded a few times. “Yeah, this is going to be my base for quite some time.”

“Your base?” when Astarion looked around the space he saw nothing but filth and damp rocks, “Darling, am I missing something?”

“Yeah, it’s great!” Her eyes naturally glowed but now they practically shined with excitement, “There is so much down here. I can practice magic and I won’t have to worry about any rules! I can let the magic show me the way, like the bone man said.”

Astarion wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of a mystical force guiding his path, “So you know you want to be down here because of your magic?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, “But I also like it down here. I want to be down here.”

“Whatever for?”

“Yeah, for the first time, I’m calling the shots, and I get to say where I am!” Arabella’s chest puffed out with pride, “I’m glad your magic friend saved me and that the bone man taught me magic but now it’s my turn.” Her eyes burned with resolve.

“Your turn, indeed…” Astarion murmured, “Well, as much as I’m loving this tour of your new…” He struggled to find the right word, “… Residence, I must be off to do more important things. Ta ta.”

“See ya, Fangs!” Arabella called out after him. Her voice was followed by the sound of creeping and rushing vines. When Astarion looked behind him, a living wall had been erected with no sign of a way through.

He made his way to the surface without another word.

___

Restless, Astarion arrived at Bloomridge Park before sunset. It never actually rained and the golden sun was glorious over the harbor. He had gone back to the Elfsong to freshen up and changed his clothes, which he did four times before finally settling on a green silk jacket with golden embroidery. The one good thing about Dosk’s insistence on a thorough check of every dungeon, was that for every ten threadbare tunics they found, there was one salvageable piece.

Even though he could not see himself in a mirror, he could feel that it fit him well, closely fit around his slim waist and trousers cut to hug his backside. When they found it it was more suited for Dosk, but the sorcerer felt as though green did not favor his aubergine complexion. Astarion disagreed, as it made the man seem lush like a full grapevine in mid-autumn, reminiscent of deep and full-bodied wine, but he wasn’t going to say no to another set of silks. He tailored it to his own perfect measurements, as he did with all of the fine clothes Dosk gave him, and stowed it away for further use. His trunk was almost too much to carry now. Almost.

Though, where would he need to carry it next? Would they leave Baldur’s Gate when all of this was done? Astarion stopped by a bush of roses, pink and white and leaned in to smell them. They were cloaked in the shadow of Cazador’s palace, kept away from the sun. It was a wonder how they had grown so lovely, hidden in the dark. Maybe when all of this was over, he and Dosk could purchase the palace and demolish it. Or maybe those horrid gnomes could give them more runepowder to dispose of as they saw fit. It was an eyesore and nothing else.

Astarion sighed and kept walking through the park. He raised his hand as if to cup the light of the sun, threatening to set. Though he could not see his face, he could see his hands and they almost looked gold. Finely manicured and lightly corded to allude to his lithe build. He wondered if the sun took to his face as kindly as it did his hands.

Did he want to leave Baldur’s Gate? That urchin in the sewers seemed to think it was so easy. ‘Haha, I’m young and I want to live in filth! A done deal!’ At least Astarion knew he could cross off ‘life in the sewers’ as a potential for his future. He was always good at identifying what he didn’t want.

In his head he crafted a list:
1. He wanted to be with Dosk, as long as he could be.
2. He didn’t want to stop stealing or killing. While Dosk may be suited to play the hero, Astarion had other aims and there were always more ne'er do wells that Dosk would be fine with killing.
3. He wanted to follow his passions. Those including stealing and killing, of course, but he also wanted to learn and create. His time with the Book of Thay showed him that he enjoyed studying magic and pouring over dusty and disgusting tomes. Gale would be enthused to hear of his burgeoning career as a wizard no doubt. But he also wanted to do something beautiful. Making clothes? He joked with Shadowheart about becoming a perfumier all those weeks ago.
4. He wanted to live. (This thought prompted a deep and heavy sigh, how does an undead man live?) He still didn’t know what that was or what it meant, but he wanted it all the same. He wanted to try new things and re experience old ones without fear. He wanted to trance without nightmares and fuck without feeling a thousand hands on his body at once.

By gods did he want.

But none of these were concrete answers and he didn’t know how to channel this almost unending desire to live without falling into old habits. These ideas were all too grand and didn’t help him in the day to day.

He looked back out over the harbor, the sun was setting and even from this distance, he could see the ships coming in for the day and sails folding for the night. His ears pricked at the sound of light footfall heading towards him. He looked over to the gate to see Halsin striding towards him. He wore only his civilian clothes, sporting little else besides embroidered leather and his natural physique. Amazing that he could walk so carefully considering his bulk. Probably something he learned so as to not disturb his precious plants.

“Good evening, Astarion,” Halsin’s voice was pleasantly deep as always and, by the gods, he smelled amazing. Like fresh herbs, open air, and his signature musk. Not for the first time since they met did Astarion wonder how he tasted.

“Good evening, Halsin” Astarion replied, “You’re very punctual.”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of wasting your time by keeping you waiting,” Halsin’s eyes had that twinkle, again.

Astarion sniffed, “Your instincts were right there, druid.” He fussed with the lace peeking out of jacket cuffs and noticed a slight tear. He pursed his lips at the imperfection and tutted.

“Ah,” Halsin, noticing Astarion’s displeasure with the tear, interrupted Astarion’s pouting to rummage in his pack, “This is for you.” He produced a small, unmarked tin that fit squarely in his palm. When Astarion took it, he was surprised at how heavy it felt, considering its size. When he opened it, it was full of yellow wax.

“Darling, what is this and why would I want it?” Astarion gestured at Halsin with the tin. Dosk brought home enough trash for several elves to fuss with. Neither Astarion or Halsin needed to contribute.

“Beeswax,” Halsin said, a laugh escaping his lips, “For your sewing.”

Astarion looked back down at the tin and raised it to his face, taking in its scent. It smelled faintly of honey.

“I’ve seen you repair many fine things with gold and silver threads,” Halsin continued before Astarion could reply, “The wax helps to guide the needle through tougher fabrics. I’ve used it in my own crude repairs.”

Astarion looked back at Halsin to see the older man with that same kind and even smile he usually had. “Well… thank you,” Astarion said, “Again you’ve surprised me with another thoughtful and honied gift and I’ve given you nothing.”

“Please,” Halsin raised a hand, “Your sincere gratitude is more than enough to sustain my affections.”

Astarion quirked an eyebrow, “Your affections?” He pocketed the tin of wax, “My, my. I didn’t know I was being offered a much grander gift than wine or wax.”

Halsin nodded as if bowing, “Yes, they’re yours for the taking… If you want them.” Another smile deepened the lines around his thin lips prompting another bout of deep and uncertain thought within Astarion.

Did he want them? It took several moons before he knew that he wanted them from Dosk. It would probably take centuries before he could answer questions like this with ease. A year ago, he would have leaned in and ran his hands over Halsin’s bare arms and whisked him away to some dirty inn room. Now, after everything, after Cazador, he couldn’t imagine that. But he can’t seem to imagine anything else. Astarion chose honesty.

“Darling, I’m afraid you’ve caught me at an… odd time in my life,” Astarion offered Halsin a sheepish smile, “I don’t know what to tell you.” I don’t know what I want. Astarion looked away from Halsin back to the rose bush on the other side of the park. There was more to explain but Astarion wasn’t sure he could tell Halsin.

Halsin paused for a moment. “Well, Astarion, does walking with me this evening sound appealing to you?”

Astarion looked back at Halsin, The druid was smiling at him as though he hadn’t just been rejected. Well, Astarion didnt quite reject him but he didn’t accept him either. Halsin’s assured confidence bolstered Astarion’s spirits enough.

“Yes, I’d like that. Quite a bit actually,” Astarion gestured ahead of them with one hand, inviting Halsin to walk. As they fell into a comfortable pace, Astarion spoke up again, “This is the first time I’ve come to this park to promenade for myself and not for Cazador.”

Halsin stayed quiet.

“I used to watch people go by,” Astarion stopped walking to look up and pointed, “From that window actually.”

Halsin looked up to where Astarion pointed. “How did you feel when you watched them?”

“I hated them,” Astarion said without flourish, “I saw couples and friends and people living without fear. I didn’t think it was fair.”

“It wasn’t,” Halsin agreed and he brushed his arm against Astarion’s shoulder, “Come, show me more of this flowery glade.”

They walked around the fountain and Astarion pointed out the different hybrids of roses and the tawdry scenes he’d beheld in the past. Halsin was appreciative of the floral knowledge and laughed at all the right bits in Astarion’s stories. He even returned the favor by telling Astarion a few scandalous tales of life in the grove.

“That did not happen,” Astarion waved Halsin off with a laugh.

“It did, unfortunately,” Halsin let out a breathy laugh and shook his head, “I wasn’t supposed to know any of it as archdruid, but sometimes I was called upon to settle more… intimate problems.”

“My, my!” Astarion exclaimed, “If I knew you treehuggers were getting into that sort of trouble, I might have considered joining!”

“Astarion, you have many talents,” Halsin said, “But I do not think they would be best suited in service of nature.” His tone was sincere but the crows feet around his eyes suggested he was teasing.

“I’d be offended if you weren’t absolutely right,” Astarion bit his lip to keep from bursting out laughing, “Gods, can you imagine me wearing leaves? Not that they don’t suit you, darling, I’m sure you could pull any look off, but I don’t think it would be quite right on me.”

“I think you would look just as beautiful,” Halsin replied, his eyes trained on Astarion’s.

For the second time today, the druid made Astarion’s mouth run dry. His heart even skipped a beat. Collecting himself, Astarion narrowed his eyes and smirked. He cocked his head and continued, “Dosk told me about how you propositioned him. I believe ‘direct’ was one of the words he used. I wasn’t sure what to make of that until now.” He limply waved a hand towards Halsin, “Not that I’m opposed to it, mind you. Flattery is always welcome.”

Even in the dimming light, Astarion could tell the tips of Halsin’s ears were pink. “Subtlety does not come naturally to me,” he said with a crooked smile, “And I find that I have had more success in life by speaking my desires out into the world.”

‘Were it that easy.’ Astarion thought. “Well, I suppose I have seen this success in real time with Dosk. He is besotted with you.”

Halsin had the good graces to look bashful for a moment. It endeared Astarion to him, to know that even at his age he could have moments of boyish joy. “With you as well,” Halsin said.

“Of course he is,” Astarion flourished, “Few alive or dead could resist my charms,” He smoothed the lapel of his jacket as spoke and watched as Halsin’s eyes followed his hands. Astarion lets his hand linger where the jacket’s hem hovered over his waist, gauging how long he could keep this up. How long before Halsin saw that beyond the smoke and mirrors was a man still so full of anger and terror, he couldnt trance most nights without crying.

“Regardless of ‘charm’,” Halsin tore his eyes away from Astarion’s hand, his mouth finding it hard to form the word ‘charm’, “It is hard to deny your greater qualities, like your strength and your ability for to grow again.”

Astarion didn’t know what to say, so he stayed silent.

Halsin took a step towards Astarion, not quite crowding his space, but close enough for the vampire to feel his heat. “There was a time in my life, I thought I had ruined everything. The curse I unleashed turned everything to shadow and dust and nothing grew anymore. What I loved and adored, more than anything, nature itself, was destroyed by my hand.”

Halsin came even closer and craned his neck down to keep his eyes trained on Astarion. “But, it came back,” his voice was low, “Soon the Shadowlands will be green and lush again. And I see that same amazing gift in you, Astarion.”

Astarion leaned into Halsin’s warmth. “You know, Halsin, most people just tell me they think my eyes are pretty and then are done with the epithets.”

The older elf leaned even further so that Astarion could feel his breath on his face, “I do think your eyes are pretty.” He hovered a moment longer and raised his hand close to Astarion’s face, “Astarion, would you like it if I touched you?”

“Yes,” Astarion’s response was breathy and quick.

Halsin’s large hand cupped the side of Astarion’s face. His hand was rough and calloused and this close, he smelled of fresh earth and mint and something sweeter than Astarion can imagine. He rubbed his thumb over the apple of Astarion’s cheek and sighed. “You are a wonder.”

Astarion’s lips parted and he leaned into the touch, waiting for something to happen. It never did, and Halsin removed his hand and took a step back. It took a great deal of resolve on Astarion’s part to resist pouting.

“Thank you for letting me have that moment with you,” Halsin said, Astarion noting that he sounded just as affected by their previous proximity.

“Yes, I’m pleased to see you’re appropriately grateful,” Astarion quipped, struggling to regain his composure.

Halsin nodded in deference. “Would you do me the pleasure of continuing our walk?” He asked, “The night is still young and I believe you promised me tales of urban pleasure.”

“And you shall have it, my dear,” Astarion mentally righted himself before walking off, not looking to see if Halsin was following.

Their walk took them in a winding path around the city, stopping only to play a game of cards with some thieves’ guild members, until they found themselves back outside the Elfsong.

“It’s not cheating,” Astarion countered Halsin’s stern look, “I just happen to count the cards as they’re dealt and I know my odds.” He’d won a fair amount of gold and a few illicit letters from dukes and ladies that he intended to keep in his pocket for later use.

“I suppose I shouldn’t care as they must have stolen it from someone else,” Halsin tried to rationalize, though he was shaking his head with a smile.

“Exactly, darling,” Astarion said triumphantly, “You can’t cheat someone out of stolen goods. I knew you had a good head on those well-muscled shoulders.” He raked his eyes over Halsin’s body and made sure it was obvious.

“I’m glad you think so,” Halsin said as he opened the door to their shared quarters. From the sound of laughter and Gale’s off-tune singing, it appeared as though the party was settled in for the night and many were sharing drinks or occupying themselves otherwise. The pair walked in quietly, Halsin greeting everyone politely while Astarion said nothing.

Most everyone in camp kept their faces schooled with professionalism but Shadowheart smirked as Astarion passed her. Karlach whispered “Nice.” They bypassed everyone to make their way over to Dosk who was sitting with Wyll, trying to learn some chord on the lute. They were unfortunately committed to their idea of busking together as a musical duo.

When Dosk noticed their approach he looked between the two of them and raised one eyebrow, his face brightening in delight. Wyll, wise Wyll, excused himself and left Dosk’s side quickly.

“Good evening, love,” Halsin said and pressed a deep kiss into Dosk’s lips. Dosk returned the kiss with fervor. As Astarion watched he felt heat pool in his groin. Halsin’s eyes cut to Astarion quickly before returning to Dosk, “I trust I will see you tomorrow? Lae’zel has asked for the bear’s might in our journey to the House of Hope.”

“Yes,” Dosk’s hand came up to touch one of Halsin’s braids, “You haven’t redone these in a while have you?”

“No,” Halsin smiled, “Perhaps you’ll help me with them soon.”

“You do this on purpose, don’t you?” Dosk chided playfully.

“Maybe,” Halsin pressed one last kiss to Dosk’s cheek, “Good night.” Before he walked away he turned back to Astarion and bowed his head, “And thank you, Astarion, for this lovely evening. Perhaps, you’ll grant me another soon.”

Astarion’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, “Perhaps.”

At that, the druid walked off to his own bed.

Dosk’s eyebrows were raised as he looked back and forth between Halsin’s retreating form and Astarion. “Lovely evening? Another?” He held out a hand to Astarion, beckoning the vampire closer, “What are you plotting, my star?”

Astarion took the offered hand and stepped closer, practically sinking into Dosk’s embrace, “While plausible, I resent that accusation.” He didn’t really. “The druid and I shared a simple walk through the city and I won a game of cards. Nothing to fuss about.”

Dosk led them over to his side of the open room and drew the heavy curtains behind them. Somehow in his crooked extortion of the innkeeper, he managed to pull wool over everyone else’s eyes and claim the largest quarters for himself. Hero he may be, but he wasn’t a self-sacrificing one. Moments like that only strengthened Astarion’s admiration for him.

“No fuss, my love,” Dosk sat down on a pillow towards the center of the room, pulling Astarion down with him, “Just curious.”

“Curious?” Astarion’s face curled into a wicked grin, “You want me to kiss and tell? What a dreadful gossip, you are!”

“Oh, so there was kissing?” Dosk pointed out, returning Astarion’s smile.

“If there was, would that be a problem?” Astarion asked, though he knew the answer.

“It would be the opposite of a problem,” Dosk placed a hand under Astarion’s face and raised his chin, “I’d love almost nothing more than if you two were to have a great and grand tryst.”

“Almost nothing more?” Astarion asked, his eyebrow quirked.

“The only thing I’d love more, is if you’d let me watch,” Dosk winked.

“Cad!” Astarion laughed and slapped Dosk’s arm without any real force, “I cannot believe that the love of my life turned out to be a conniving rake!”

“Really?”

“No, darling. It’s honestly one of my favorite things about you,” Astarion said, “Especially the conniving part.”

“I bet,” Dosk murmured and looked directly into Astarion’s eyes, “But, my star, is that what you want? Do you want to be with Halsin?”

“Ugh, gods,” Astarion moaned, “Must you ruin the moment with your deep questions about feelings? Haven’t I felt enough in the last month alone?”

Dosk admonished, “Your feelings are important. We’ve covered this.”

“Hm,” Astarion pursed his lips.

“Well, promise me you’ll think about it,” Dosk left it at that and pressed another kiss to Astarion’s lips. The vampire opened his mouth wide to return it, their tongues sliding thick against each other. Again, the drow ran his tongue over Astarion’s fangs to draw blood and it trickled down their chins through the kiss.

“You’re not going to have a tongue left if you keep doing that,” Astarion said into Dosk’s mouth, gently lapping at the blood.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” Dosk smiled and pulled his face away, “Are you complaining?”

Astarion pouted before he realized Dosk was offering him his neck. Dosk’s copper scales obscured most of the existing puncture wounds to the untrained eye, but Astarion looked for them greedily. “I would never,” Astarion murmured into Dosk’s neck before laving his tongue across the exposed flesh and biting down.

Dosk gasped and his breath quickened as he brought his hands around Astarion’s waist. Dosk pulled Astarion into his lap to give the vampire easier access. As Astarion sucked, Dosk groaned and brought his hands to Astarion’s hair and backside. The hand in Astarion’s hair pulled while the one on his ass squeezed. The combined pressure made Astarion gasp, pausing his feed.

Astarion took the moment to take the sight of Dosk in. They had spent many nights in this same scenario and Astarion still hadn’t tired of it. Dark amethyst skin, copper scales, and ruby blood dripping under black leather, down over well-defined clavicles and a robust chest. The pupil was blown in his one good eye, and not for the first time did Astarion curse Volo for his botched surgery. He understood the practicality of the prosthetic, but he did miss seeing a perfect pair of lavender eyes.

“You’re going to get blood on your nice jacket,” Dosk said, his eyes trailing down Astarion’s body, “Maybe you should take it off.”

“Hm, you’re right,” Astarion replied, “And you know how I feel about wasting good silk.” He shucked the jacket off and threw it to the side, while Dosk held him steady. “I suppose the shirt should come off too, no? I also hate wasting fine linen.” As Astarion lifted the hem of his shirt, Dosk’s hands trailed upward to touch the exposed skin at the small of Astarion’s back.

“Good decision, love,” Dosk said, “Do you want more?” He angled his head again, offering his neck.

“A feast of delights, you are,” Astarion trailed a hand up Dosk’s chest, staining his fingertips with blood. His hand came to rest at the base of Dosk’s neck and circled his fingers around its broad girth. Though Dosk was smaller than Halsin, he still dwarfed Astarion and the vampire’s hand could barely get around half the drow’s neck. Astarion leaned forward to whisper in Dosk’s ear, “But, I think if I indulge any more, you won’t be able to get it up.” Astarion said this with confidence, despite the bulge he already felt in Dosk’s lap. The man was such a freak.

Dosk laughed and buried his face into Astarion’s chest, kissing, licking and whispering sweet praise. Astarion went to work on releasing Dosk’s long silver hair from its tail and ran his fingers through it. As drow aged, their hair turned different colors depending on lineage, so Dosk’s silver tresses were faintly lined with auburn and gold. Mesmerizing. He pulled it slowly back to look at Dosk’s face, flushed a deep red wine, and leaned in for another open mouthed kiss. With his whole body, he pushed Dosk onto his back and sprawled them over the floor, grinding against Dosk’s hardness. Most nights, Astarion was slower to arouse but his evening out had him feeling particularly eager. He relished the feeling of their clothed, hard bodies grinding against each other and how it made Dosk’s breath ragged.

“Darling, as fetching as your camp clothes are, I’d rather you get rid of them for now,” Astarion practically purred.

Catching his breath, Dosk quickly unfastened his finely cut jerkin, laying his chest bare for Astarion. The vampire ran his cold hands over Dosk’s chest, raising the drow’s dark nipples to peaks and raising fine hairs on end. Dosk let out a shaky breath before asking, “Can we switch?”

“Yes,” Astarion replied before Dosk propelled himself forward and toppled Astarion to the floor, switching their positions. Astarion loved how wide Dosk’s shoulders were and how he could barely see the ceiling behind him. Dosk placed a knee between Astarion’s legs to part them before he kissed his way down the vampire’s chest, stopping briefly to inhale at the laces of Astarion’s breeches. Dosk mouthed at Astarion’s hardness, coaxing a moan from the vampire.

Astarion propped himself on his elbows to watch Dosk. The drow’s eyes were closed in rapture and his hands were gripping Astarion’s hips. Absolute worship. The sight caused Astarion’s arousal to spike and he involuntarily bucked his hips into Dosk’s face. The collision prompted another question from the drow, “Can I suck your cock?”

Astarion nodded and breathed out, “Yes.”

Though Dosk did not possess Astarion’s gift of dexterity, he quickly unlaced the vampire’s breeches and pulled them down enough to release Astarion’s cock. Hard and pink, thanks to Dosk’s generous, sanguine gift. Dosk took one breath before placing his mouth over the tip and swiping his tongue across hard. Astarion hissed at the sudden and overwhelming feeling. The sound cause Dosk to pause and raise his head, “You alright, Star?”

“How could I not be when you are down there and I’m up here?” Astarion replied, placing his hand on the back of Dosk’s head, rubbing his thumb over the drow’s scalp. He knew that Dosk could tell how he relished being asked for permission. He felt safe and cared for. He nodded at Dosk to continue.

Dosk smiled at him before sucking at the base of his cock. One of his large hands came up to thread his fingers through Astarion’s. Their matching rings clacked against each other and Astarion’s heart skipped a beat. Who knew the epitome of a romance could be achieved by looting dead bodies in an acursed shadow land?

Dosk licked a line up Astarion’s cock to suckle again at the head before swallowing him whole. The feeling of his cock deep in Dosk’s throat pulled a whine from Astarion’s throat. Dosk hollowed his cheeks and curled his lip to sheath his teeth and all Astarion knew for minutes was the tight, wet heat of his mouth. Dosk moaned around Astarion’s cock and breathed heavily through his nose, bobbing his head faster and faster. Just when Astarion thought he would find his release, Dosk pulled off and opened his mouth to ask another question, “Can I use my fingers?”

“Y-yes,” Astarion answered, lifting his hips to help Dosk peel his breeches and shoes off. Dosk removed his breeches as well, revealing his leaking and heavy cock. Astarion’s mouth watered at the sight of it and he licked his lips. As Dosk hovered on all fours over Astarion for a slow and languishing kiss, Astarion felt a drip of precum fall on his thigh and shivered as it trickled down between his legs. He pulled Dosk down to feel their skin rub and slide together. Dosk’s scales added a satisfying scratch to the sensation, eliciting another hiss from Astarion.

Dosk trailed his hand down between Astarion’s legs to stroke his cock a few times, still slick with spit. “Can I ask you another question, Astarion?”

“A-ah, yes, darling?”

Dosk’s hand trailed further back and his fingers circled Astarion’s hole, pressing lightly, but not breaching it, “Do you ever think about Halsin?” He started kissing and sucking on Astarion’s neck, around his old puncture scars.

Astarion stuttered out a laugh, “Who doesn’t?”

Dosk smirked into Astarion’s neck, “So, you think about him like this? Like how we are now?”

Truth be told Astarion had only considered it in passing fancy, but now the images were stark in his head. Halsin’s huge bulk hovering over him, large hands raking across his body. His cock twitched at the thought and he arched his back slightly.

“It sounds like you’ve been thinking about it,” Astarion deflected, “Care to share?”

“Oh, yes, I’ve thought about it,” Dosk said as he pressed a finger inside Astarion, pumping slowly, “I’ve dreamt about it.”

Astarion hummed in pleasure from Dosk’s ministrations, “Tell me more.” He looked Dosk square in the eye as he uttered his command. There was no trace of lavender left in the sorcerer’s eye.

“In one dream, I’ve seen you taking him from behind as you drain him,” Dosk whispered into Astarion’s mouth before kissing him. Astarion could smell himself on Dosk’s face and he moaned from their mingled scent, “In another, he has you sprawled out on the forest floor and is fucking you so hard you can’t keep up.”

Dosk leaned away from Astarion, towards the hookah pit to grab a vial of oil. He coated his fingers generously before adding another finger. He continued, “In that one, he holds both of your wrists over your head in one of his huge hands, like this.” He takes Astarion’s wrists in his hand and demonstrates his dream, almost pinning Astarion to the floor. “Do you like this?”

“Yes,” Astarion answered. Dosk’s grip was hard enough to ache, but not enough to bruise, “Keep going.”

Dosk smiled down at him and added yet another finger. Astarion gasped, relishing the slight burn of feeling full and fucked, “You love getting fucked by him and you don’t care who hears it. You moan and cry and when you finally gain your bearings, you fuck yourself on his dick because you want it so bad. He tells you how beautiful you look with him inside you, and it’s so true, love, you are so gorgeous like that.”

Astarion could almost feel the fantasy, as though it were real. He could almost smell it— the smell of sex, fresh earth, and grass. In his mind’s eye he saw both Halsin and Dosk with him kissing, whispering about how wonderful he was and meaning it. Astarion moaned again. His arms were sore from being bound and his cock ached from lack of stimulation. “More,” he demanded.

“Can I fuck you now?” Dosk asked, his breath coming in short gasps. It was clear how much he enjoyed this.

“Yes,” Astarion said, with a hint of exasperation, “Just keep talking.”

Dosk removed his fingers leaving Astarion feeling cold and empty, but did not release his hold on Astarion’s wrists. With his free hand, he positioned his cock at Astarion’s opening and eased in slowly, using one of Astarion’s hitched legs to anchor himself. He kissed Astarion’s forehead three times before looking him in the eyes again. The heat coming off him was delicious and Astarion savored it. “Are you still with me, my star?” he asked, waiting for an answer.

“With you or Halsin?” Astarion joked and rolled his hips impatiently.

Dosk let out a little moan, that was half chuckle before he began to thrust. He took it slow as he spoke, “Halsin would let you fuck yourself on him until he couldn’t take it anymore and then he’d grab you by your tight, little waist and thrust into you hard and unyielding. He’d lift you up and your legs would wrap around him and he’d keep fucking up into you.” As he spoke, his thrusts became harder and he punctuated each sentence with a harsh kiss somewhere on Astarion’s body.

Soon, Dosk found the right angle that had them both moaning and gasping for air. With each thrust, Astarion felt himself pushed closer to climax but Dosk’s hand still gripped his thigh and hadn’t come close to touching his cock again. Astarion whined as his prostate was directly pounded, with little to no release.

“He’d come in you like that,” Dosk rasped out, his thrusts becoming erratic, “Holding you up and he’d offer his neck to you. You suck him dry as he came and he’d be so loud.” A pause. Astarion knew Dosk was close. “He’d fuck his come out of you until his dick was sore and it’d hurt him a little. Then he’d—“ Dosk was cut off by his own orgasm and Astarion felt his come spill out of him as he continued to thrust. Dosk groaned as he came down from it and slid out of Astarion. He panted for a moment before asking, “Can I finish you with my mouth?”

“Please,” Astarion didn’t beg, he never begged, but this was something close. It was only once his cock was back in Dosk’s mouth that he realized it meant Dosk couldn’t keep talking. It apparently didn’t matter as it was a only minute or two before Astarion’s own orgasm crashed down on him, dragged a cry from deep in his throat. Dosk swallowed every last drop and finally released Astarion’s arms.

Astarion didn’t realize how sore they were and winced as he brought them back down to his sides. He looked over to Dosk to see the drow wincing from his own aches. “I don’t know how many more decades of floor sex my knees still have in them,” Dosk whispered as he stretched his legs out.

“Well, darling,” Astarion said in between heavy breaths, “The bed was less than 3 meters away.” He gestured with one of his aching arms and winced again. He sat up and smiled at Dosk. The drow smiled back before grabbing a rag to clean them up. As he did so, he hummed a tune Astarion thought he overheard in the Elfsong’s bar not too long ago. The humming caused Dosk’s lavender eye to glow and, within seconds, the pain in Astarion’s arms was gone. “You know as much as I complain about your latest interest in bard training, it does come in handy.”

“My inner theater kid is beaming at your praise, my love,” Dosk kissed Astarion lightly before nodding over to the bed, “Will you be retiring here or elsewhere?”

Astarion raised his eyebrow at the mention of ‘elsewhere’, but let it go, “I think I’ll stay if you don’t mind.” Refreshed from Dosk’s healing spell, he sauntered over to Dosk’s bed, stepping over their discarded clothes. Dosk joined him without another word and embraced him from behind under the sheets.

“Darling?” Astarion asked.

“Yes, my love?” Dosk was already near sleep and his words slurred.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell me how that… story of yours ends?” Astarion choose his words carefully, running his fingers over Dosk’s forearm.

“Maybe,” Astarion can hear the smile in his voice, smug and satisfied, “But I can tell you, from experience, you’d like the ending.” Dosk pressed one last kiss to the back of Astarion’s neck, before falling deep into his trance.

Astarion tranced without dreaming.

——

Three days later Orin announced that she had taken Lae’zel.

Dosk was almost inconsolable. He went without food or rest and he became sharp around the edges. Astarion had never seen him like this, in all their troubles, but the rogue stayed firm by the sorcerer’s side as he threatened to raze the city to dust for the Githyanki warrior.

There was no room for any sort of levity. Astarion tried to lift Dosk’s spirits by expressing sympathy for the cultists who had to detain her. His jest was met with hurt eyes and a scoff as Dosk walked away without a word. Less than an hours later Astarion managed to apologize, promising that they would find Lae’zel, and Dosk just grabbed him into a crushing hug and cried silently.

In the week before they found her, Halsin scarcely left Dosk’s side and Astarion was grateful. Soothing a mourning and terrifying sorcerer was not the vampire’s milieu. He tried but found he needed help, too. They operated as a trio, helping each other as needed and filling each other’s gaps. When Astarion could not find a kind word, Halsin was there with a soft touch. When Halsin could not help guide Dosk’s next steps, Astarion’s cunning gave their collective path direction.

At night, they slept together, three bodies pressed into Dosk’s bed, taking turns to soothe each other’s nightmares. They split the last of Astarion’s gifted wine and joked together over the faces Dosk made from the cloying, sweet flavor. Astarion used some of the beeswax to braid Halsin and Dosk’s hair so it would stay fresh longer. Halsin would occasionally wildshape in the night, for Dosk and Astarion to find themselves nestled against a great bear.

It was different than Astarion thought it would be. It was nice.

They kill the horrid Bhaalspawn and find Lae’zel in one piece. When Dosk embraces her, he almost cries but buttons up quickly at her stern look. They do not ‘escort’ her back to camp, as she would not have allowed such a thing, but they do accompany her back to camp to celebrate. They have a party and hail Lae’zel as a hero for surviving and everyone drinks and eats and forget about the giant brain lurking under the city. The next day, Dosk heads out with Lae’zel alone to discuss her experience and perhaps exchange platitudes of great platonic love.

Astarion finds himself day drinking alone, again. Today it’s Tyche’s Pink. Not as bad as Ithbank, but he still fantasizes about the sparkling mead and the taste of honey. He sighs before putting his glass down, mostly full. By noon, most of the party has dispersed to handle their own business or try and have ‘fun’ as Karlach and Wyll like to put it. Their fun doesn’t seem to involve stealing or conniving so Astarion has yet to join them. He thinks they play some sort of sport.

He walks around their room still pondering what he should do with himself when he’s stopped in his tracks by the sight of Halsin, sprawled over pillows in the conversation pit. The man is barefoot, in his camp clothing and whittling. Wood shavings litter the space around him and are no doubt getting lost in the creases of the pillow pile. He’s humming a tune, terribly out of key, that Astarion cannot place.

“Ahem,” Astarion coughs, breaking Halsin from his concentration. In a moment of brief confusion, Halsin’s knife slips and slices deep into his hand.

“Ah—“ is the only thing out of Halsin’s mouth before Astarion is by his side with a spare rag to stem the free flowing blood and hamper the sweet and thick smell.

“Not on the silk pillows, darling,” he wraps the rag around Halsin’s hand twice before stepping back again and checking his own clothes for stains. Thankfully none.

Halsin sucks in a breath and lets it out through his nose slowly, with his eye closed. He keeps them closed as he speaks, “Thank you for your quick action, Astarion.”

“I don’t think there’s need for thanks as I think I’m the cause of your problem,” Astarion is gracious enough to admit and then he pointed at Halsin’s bandaged hand. “You’re going to want to wash that.”

“This is not your doing, Astarion,” Halsin says, his brow furrowed, “This was a simple accident. Please do not blame yourself.”

“Alright, that’s fine, I don't need to take the blame, but it will fester,” Astarion insists, “It’s a large wound.”

Halsin rummages in one of the small pouches on his belt, much to Astarion’s consternation, to produce a handful of red berries.

“I hardly think this is the time for snacking,” Astarion urges more insistently. The white rag on Halsin’s hand was slowly turning red.

“Please don’t worry,” Halsin had the audacity to hold his hands up, “Those were goodberries, I’ll be fine momentarily.”

Astarion counted to three to avoid rolling his eyes. Druid nonsense. “Come with me,” Astarion grabbed Halsin’s arm and led him to the communal washroom.

“Astarion, I appreciate your concern, but it really is fine,” Halsin was almost laughing.

When they arrived at the washroom, Astarion quickly poured a fresh pitcher of water into a clean basin. He grabbed at Halsin’s bandaged hand and unwrapped it to find it had mostly mended. The blood flow had petered out and a thick scab had already formed. It looked as though it still needed weeks of proper healing, but it was no longer the fresh wound it had been minutes ago.

“Hm,” Halsin said looking at his hand again, “I supposed I don’t heal as fast as I used to.”

“And I suppose you really are a healer of renown,” Astarion stepped back from Halsin and the basin, “I did have my doubts after you couldn’t remove our tadpoles.”

“Ah, yes, another great regret of mine,” the lines on Halsin’s forehead deepened, “I am sorry I could not help you.” He removed the bandage from his hand and began to wash it out in the basin. Astarion noticed that he still favored his uninjured hand. The fresh blood seeped out of the rag to marble in the clear water. Astarion watched it for a second before returning his gaze to Halsin’s face.

“It’s no trouble for me,” Astarion waved him off, “Another day with the tadpole may mean another day closer to turning into a horrific monster, but it also means another day in the sun for me.”

“I didn’t take you for an optimist, Astarion,” Halsin smirked.

“I’m not,” Astarion sighed, “But beggars, choosers, and all that.”

“I definitely,” Halsin flexed his hand and looked it over once, “Do not take you for a beggar.”

To that, Astarion has no response other than a narrowing of the eyes and a slight smile.

“Though I am grateful for your quick action to care for me,” Halsin continues, “I must say, I cannot help but wonder at your lack of temptation for my blood. Do you find me unappetizing?” His speech slowed and he took his time enunciating. The smile tugging at his lips made something in Astarion’s gut flip over.

Astarion’s eyes widened only for a moment, “Quite the opposite.” In a moment of daring, he took Halsin’s hand in both of his own, cradling the druid’s hand in one and tracing the disappearing wound with the other. Halsin’s only reaction is a sharp intake of breath, but he held his hand still.

Astarion trains his gaze onto the druid’s large hand, “I can tell you honestly, that you have one of the most alluring scents I’ve come across. You have this… pull to you.” His fingers trailed further down Halsin’s wrist to press gently against his pulse, “I’m sure you would be exquisite.”

“Then, I am impressed by your will to abstain,” Halsin murmured, his fingers curling upward to lightly brush against Astarion’s wrist.

“I’m nothing if not willful,” Astarion cuts his eyes to Halsin’s, red meeting molten gold. He lets go of Halsin’s hand slowly, “But, I do get quite a bit of practice in abstinence on the battlefield. I’ve scented the ground, sprayed and splattered with all of your blood and it’s not always pleasant.”

“Oh?” Halsin quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, there’s blood like yours, sweet and smooth,” Astarion opened his mouth wide as he spoke, for Halsin to see his fangs, “And then, there’s Gale. Sour and acidic like vinegar.” Astarion grimaced, wrinkling his nose.

Halsin’s chuckled, “And I’m sure you’ve an opinion on Dosk?”

“Of course,” Astarion purred, “Our fearless leader is nothing short of a marvel, in character and flavor.”

“Again we find commonality to our tastes,” Halsin replied, “I think you would agree that he is to be savored.”

“I would,” Astarion’s voice was lowered to almost a whisper, “Though it’s a wonder, you haven’t managed to savor half the camp. Despite their wide array of flavors, I’m sure they’d all be happy for a taste of you. Why haven’t you gone for them?”

“Despite what you may think, Astarion,” Halsin was not at all bothered by the stinging challenge, “My heart has been stirred only a few times in my long life.”

“So, it’s your heart that stirs?” The mention of hearts has Astarion feeling as though he’s walking on an icy steppe. He tries to regain his footing and glances down below Halsin’s belt pointedly, “Nothing else?”

“There is,” Halsin acquiesced, “But that is only to be discussed with those who want it.”

A tightness in Astarion’s chest halts his tongue. If he were truly alive, he knew his face would be flushed. He sucks his teeth before looking away. When Halsin doesn’t respond, Astarion takes a deep breath to ask, “What if— What if I’m interested in a small taste?” It was still easier to talk in metaphors.

“A taste?”

“Just to start, to see if I like it,” Astarion brought his gaze back to Halsin. The older elf was watching him with a razor-like intensity, eyebrows slightly raised.

“What does a taste entail?” Halsin’s voice was quiet and measured.

“A close embrace, my teeth against your lips,” Astarion’s heart quickened as he described the flashing images in his mind, “Nothing terribly complex.”

“And that is all you want?”

“For now, yes,” Astarion felt himself regain control, finally, “Nothing more.”

“I can provide that to you,” Halsin extended an arm, “Come here to me.”

Astarion took a step towards Halsin and asked, “Have you spoken to Dosk about this?”

“Is there a ‘this’?”

“You know what I mean, Halsin.”

Halsin let out a soft sigh, “Dosk knows that I am interested in you as a lover and a partner and that I intend to pursue you, if you will have me. It is my belief that all parties should consent.”

“How gracious of you,” Astarion moved forward again and was stopped by Halsin’s hand on his chest.

“And have you spoken to him?” Halsin may have lobbied the question, like a ball, at Astarion’s head, for it felt all the same.

It was Astarion’s turn to sigh, “Yes, druid. Well, sort of. I don’t know.” He crossed his arms over his chest, pushing Halsin’s arm away.

“Would you mind explaining?” Halsin asked patiently.

“He knows—” Too much, that’s what. “He knows I have considered you as a partner.”

Halsin’s face broke out into a small smile, “Hearing that is… more than I thought to hope for.” He brought a hand to cup Astarion’s elbow, “Did you still want that taste?”

Astarion released tension he didn’t realize he was holding between his shoulder blades, “I do.” He took the last half step into Halsin’s space. Like last time, the druid smelled of earth and mint.

Halsin kept his hands to himself, leaving only his one hand on Astarion’s elbow, but his pupils were blown, leaving only slivers of gold. Astarion craned his head up and reached up to touch Halsin’s neck. His skin was hot to the touch and his pulse fluttered under Astarion’s hand. Astarion hooked his fingers around the neckline of Halsin’s jerkin, beckoning the druid to stoop down for Astarion to reach him. Just before Halsin was in reach of Astarion, he stopped.

“Can I ask you for something? Before this goes on?” His breath was hot and sweet against Astarion’s face. Astarion’s eyes were trained on his lips, but he managed to flick up eyes back to Halsin’s.

“What?” Astarion’s voice was too breathy to have any bite.

“Can you speak your desire plainly? Just once for me to hear it,” Halsin’s eyes seem to plead with Astarion.

“You want to hear what I want?”

“Yes.”

“I… I want,” Astarion swallowed and closed his eyes, “I want your lips on mine and your blood in my mouth.” He felt something uncoil in his gut as he finished speaking. When he opened his eyes again, the look Halsin was giving him was so unabashedly adoring, it almost hurt to look back.

The look didn’t last as Halsin closed the space between them. The kiss was light at first, a slight brush, until Astarion swiped his tongue into Halsin’s mouth, prompting the older elf to open his mouth wide. Halsin followed Astarion’s lead, never moving too fast or too slow. Astarion brought his hands to Halsin’s hips and gripped hard, eliciting a groan from the druid. Astarion pushed him slightly and the washroom was small enough that Halsin’s back was pushed up against the wall.

Their kiss was messy and rough, Astarion not wanting to think about anything other than the other elf’s mouth. Halsin’s breath became ragged and Astarion pulled away for a second, a string of shared spit connected them. They shared a look before Astarion dove back in for more. Halsin’s lips were surprisingly soft and they tore easily under Astarion’s fangs. Just a slight cut, nothing major, into the druid’s bottom lip. The blood that trickled from the cut was just as sweet as Astarion thought it would be and he sucked on Halsin’s lip greedily for it. He alternated between sucking on Halsin’s tongue and the cut, mixing the tastes together. The pair moaned, almost in unison at the sensation.

Gods know how long the kiss went on. It was broken by a banging on the door.

“Oi! Whoever you are, you been in there almost half an hour and I’ve got to whiz,” Karlach’s muffled voice crashed in on them.

Astarion almost snarled at the intrusion before whispering, “Not one soul in this camp has good timing, I swear.”

Halsin only chuckled and raised a hand to dab at the small wound on his lip. The tips of his fingers came away red and he looked at Astarion with unbridled hunger, his nostrils flared. “Just a minute,” Halsin responded to Karlach’s plea.

“Oh, Halsin?” Karlach sounded surprised, “Take your time old man, I’ll head back downstairs!” As she walked away they both could hear her muttering about ‘old people problems’.

“Well, I supposed that saved us an explanation,” Astarion reasoned. He turned back to the basin and poured more water in to wash the blood off his face, “I hope you have more berries for that cut.”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Halsin said.

Astarion could feel him watching. “That was… satisfying,” Astarion smoothed out his shirt and fussed with his hair quickly, “I’m not leaving you wanting any more, am I?” Teasing.

Halsin’s chest heaved and Astarion schooled his eyes to stay trained on the druid’s eyes. “I am grateful for whatever we share, Astarion,” he smiled and his crows feet framed his eyes handsomely.

“Ah, you druids are always so diplomatic,” Astarion quipped, “I’m off. I’ve errands to attend to.” He didn’t but he needed a moment away from Halsin’s eyes and deep voice. He swept out of the washroom without another word, not caring if anyone downstairs noticed.

—

“I kissed Halsin,” Astarion said, nonchalantly in between feeding Dosk grapes. He was sprawled out on Dosk’s bed, head propped up by one hand, while Dosk was doing sit-ups on the floor. One every other rise, Astarion plopped a grape into Dosk’s mouth.

Dosk didn’t stop his workout but Astarion saw his eyebrows raise, “56, 57… Oh?… 58,”

“Yes, a few days ago,” Astarion pursed his lips at Dosk’s lack of reaction.

“How was it? 62, 63,” Dosk asked in between heavy breaths.

“It was alright,” Astarion sniffed and looked away. He’d only been thinking about hazel eyes, sun-kissed skin, and honied blood on and off for days now.

“High praise, 67,68…coming from you, love, 69, 70.”

“Hm,” Astarion gave Dosk another grape, “Are you sure you’re counting right? I could have sworn you’ve skipped a few.”

“No, dear, 72,” Dosk said before Astarion shoved another grape in his mouth, “You’re just, 73, thinking about another man, 74, instead of paying, 75, attention to me.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and smiled down, “Maybe I am.”

“78, Are you, 79, going to, 80, do it again? 90.”

“Think about other men? Of course,” he popped another grape in Dosk’s mouth, “People of all genders really.”

“94, You know, 95, what I, 96, mean, 97.”

“Ugh,” Astarion sighed, “I don’t know.” He dropped his head down on the pillows beneath him to stare at the ceiling.

“98, Well, 99, you don’t have to, 100, if you don’t want to,” Dosk groaned and fell on his own back, “Phew.”

They lay still for a few of Dosk’s loud breaths. Dosk brought his hand up to fish Astarion’s out of the fruit bowl and held it lightly.

“You’re sweaty,” Astarion said but didn’t remove his hand.

“Yeah,” Dosk agreed, “You know, you could probably keep seeing him. Kissing him. I think he’d even be open to more.”

“I know you would.”

“Ha, well, my star, it’s not actually about me.”

“Hm,” Astarion agreed. He turned over on his side to look at Dosk on the floor, keeping their hands linked, “He said he talked to you about it. What did he say?”

Dosk had his eyes closed but he opened one for a moment to look Astarion in the eye, “He said he fancied you and he wanted to know if I’d be okay if he did something about it.”

Astarion’s stomach fluttered as Dosk’s words sank in, “He didn’t actually say ‘fancied’ did he?”

“No, of course not,” Dosk smiled, “It was something along the lines of you being ‘remarkable as starfall’. You’d have to ask him for a direct quote.”

Another flutter. “The two of you and your poetry,” the vampire muttered, “Why can’t you just say my ass is fit and be done with it?”

“Forgive us, for being sweet on you.”

“No, shan’t.”

“I guess I’ll live,” Dosk sat up, “But, it’s time for pushups and then bed. Are you staying?”

“No, darling,” Astarion sat up as well and leaned in to kiss Dosk’s cheek, “I want to sleep in sheets without sweat for a change.” He rose from the bed, letting go of Dosk’s hand. “Good night. I love you.” He was still new to saying it and meaning it, but it felt so good every time.

“Goodnight, Astarion. I love you, too.”

—

For all the eldritch horrors and foul beasts they faced, it was a bloody cut-purse that took Dosk down.

They had been taking down the Steel Watchers, one by one, when the rat found them. Dosk had given his last potion to Lae’zel and spent his last spell slots on Astarion. Gale was worse for wear, clinging to Lae’zel to stand upright. It happened to quickly and unceremoniously. The party turned a dark corner and there they were, waiting with a knife. It sank into Dosk’s side to the hilt and the sorcerer barely made a sound. Before he even fell to the ground, Astarion’s dagger had crossed the assailant’s throat, scoring the blue sky above with a dark red arc.

In a blur of tears, blood, and panic, they brought his body back to Withers and waited for the strange spirit to bring him back. They had seen Dosk do this for them, but this was their first dealing with Withers on Dosk’s behalf. True to word, Dosk’s body drew breath once more. It wasn’t until that moment that Astarion let go of the breath he had been holding.

Though Dosk lived again, he needed rest. It was Halsin who took his hand and guided him to bed.

Hours passed and neither elf had exited the room. Astarion paced, fidgeted, and drank, snapping at anyone who came close. His head throbbed and the scar on his back ached.

“Fangs.” It was Karlach who dared brave his ire.

“What?” Astarion spit out.

“He’s ok,” her brow was furrowed and her eyes soft. How could someone with the fire of the hells in her heart look at him so kindly?

“No, thanks to any of us,” the vampire muttered and downed his glass. “Don’t you have something to destroy or set fire or whatever?” He tried to wave her off.

She gave him a smile that was mostly fangs, “I mean, yeah, in a bit. But I think we’re all taking a breather now. Why don’t you go in with them?” She nodded over to the curtain to Dosk’s quarters.

Astarion poured himself another glass. He didn’t even know what this bottle was. “I don’t think I’m needed in there,” he said.

Karlach almost guffawed, “What a load of shit!” She laughed and bent over to slap her knee, “I wouldn’ta thought you’d have jokes at a time like this!”

She kept laughing as Astarion drank his glass with a sour expression.

“O—Oh,” She stopped laughing when she saw his face, “You’re not jokin’, are ya?”

He didn’t say anthing.

“Weeeelll,” she cleared her throat, “I’m not gonna try and change your mind, even though you’re totally wrong and I’m totally right, but, Fangs. Do you want to go in there?”

Astarion scoffed.

“No, no, I mean it, Star,” she sounded like she did, “Peek your head in there. I know for a fact that they both reeeeeeally like you. And they’d love to have you with them, if you wanted.”

“Go away,” is all Astarion manages to get out.

“Oh, Fangs,” Karlach sighed and smiled, “Just take it from someone else who didn’t get anything they wanted for a long time. You’ve gotta go for it.” She nudged his shoulder with her knuckles and walked off.

Astarion waited for her to head downstairs with the others before turning his head to stare at the curtain. He exhaled through his nose before placing his drink down and made his way over to the curtain. On the other side, he could hear Dosk laughing. Another breath, before he swept the curtains aside and stepped in.

Neither of them seemed to notice his arrival. Dosk was lying on his abdomen and Halsin was rubbing his back. There was a thick smell in the air of ashes and burnt hair, but, somehow, it wasn’t unpleasant. Astarion could see a tea brewing on a small fire in the hookah pit. Must be one of Halsin’s concoctions. Returning his gaze to the men, Astarion noticed a knotted scar on Dosk’s side, just the size of the knife used by the dirty thief. His jaw clenched at the memory.

He watched them for a few moments before he sidled right up next to them, close enough to brush against Halsin’s arm. Still no reaction. Poor things had the combined perceptive powers of a mole.

“Ahem,” Astarion cleared his throat.

It was Halsin who reacted first and then Dosk. They both started, their eyes wide.

“Oh gods, love,” Dosk rolled over to his unscarred side and ran a hand over his face, “I’m so glad you’re here, but I do think I’ve been surprised enough for one day.”

“I didn’t even sneak in,” Astarion retorted, “It’s not my fault that you too can’t seem to notice when an uninvited vampire walks right into your bedchambers.”

“I wouldn’t say you were uninvited,” Dosk replied and held a hand out, beckoning Astarion closer, “You don’t mind that Astarion’s here do you, Hal?”

“Of course not,” Halsin said, “As always, he is most welcome.”

Astarion’s eyes cut to Halsin’s quickly, finding the druid’s eyes warm and soft. He took Dosk’s outstretched hand, allowing himself to be pulled down to the bed, where he sat with his back to Dosk. He could feel his earlier anger and irritation fade away at the contact, Dosk’s body heat soothing the ache of his scar. Dosk curled around him and sighed contentedly, “I’m glad to have my two favorite people here with me in this afterlife.”

Astarion saw Halsin frown, a little line appearing between his brows. Cute. “You’re not dead,” Halsin said.

“I guess you’re right,” Dosk said, “It’s not like I really remember what happened.” He took his hand from Astarion to rub at his own side, “You know, when I’ve brought the rest of you back, I don’t think any of you had mementos from your brushes with death. Withers botched my resurrection on purpose.”

“Maybe to keep you humble, love,” Astarion quipped.

“Ha ha,” Dosk did not laugh.

Halsin turned his back to them to check the pot of tea. When he opened the lid he reached over to a set of vials Astarion hadn’t seen before and picked up one full of golden liquid. Honey. The druid poured it in slowly until the vial was empty. He wiped the rim clean with his fingers before licking his fingers clean.

“You’re too much with your honey, Hal,” Dosk spoke up.

“I don’t like to waste,” Halsin smiled but didn’t look up from the tea, stirring it slowly, “Besides, this honey was granted to me by the bees in the graveyard. I cannot discard such a precious gift.”

“Of course not,” Astarion piped up, “We wouldn’t stand for that sort of behavior from you, druid.”

“From me?” Halsin asked turning to Astarion with one eyebrow quirked.

“Well, you would have to accept it from me, I should think,” Astarion countered.

“We would expect it from you, dear,” Dosk responded, voice full of affection and admiration, “And love you all the same.”

Love? Astarion locked eyes with Halsin and found no hesitation in his broad, handsome face. The vampire felt a tug in his chest and his mouth went dry. It was then that he noticed the cut on Halsin’s lip, scabbed over and dark, from their kiss. The druid hadn’t healed it.

Dosk must have noticed he said too much because he yawned loudly, causing more of a fuss than necessary. “Well, loves, I can honestly say that dying is exhausting. Hal, are you going to make me drink your hedge witch concoction before I fall asleep, or not?”

Halsin kept Astarion’s gaze for a second longer before returning to the tea, “Yes. Do you think you can sit up?”

“If I must,” Dosk feigned weakness, though Astarion could tell his wince of pain was very much real. The next dirty thief would not be so lucky, if Astarion had anything to do with it.

Halsin poured the tea into two cups and brought them over slowly. He offered one to each of them. Dosk took his eagerly, murmuring quiet thanks and placing a kiss to the back of Halsin’s hand. Astarion took his and let his fingers brush against Halsin’s. The druid practically beamed down at the both of them.

“I assume this draught has multiple purposes?” Astarion sniffed it in appraisal. It was a deep brown, with debris floating in it.

“It’s an old remedy for aches,” Halsin answered, “Something I remember my elders brewing when I was small and had yet to experience the pains of aging.”

“Ancient healing arts,” Dosk said, closing his eyes to sip his tea. He seemed to enjoy it.

“Haha, I suppose you’re right,” Halsin laughed.

Astarion took a sip. It tasted like twigs and spices, only faintly sweet. He supposed the honey was meant to mask the more earthy flavors. Drinking it felt like being embraced from within. It let him imagine what it would have been like to grow up with elders and a family.

From there, the night was filled with Dosk’s snoring. Astarion found a book to read and Halsin produced more herbs from his pack and prepared them for gods know what other potions and tinctures.

When the time came, Halsin approached Dosk’s bedside. Astarion was lying down still reading.

“May I join you?” Halsin’s tone was measured and unexpectant.

“Sure,” Astarion murmured and moved over. Halsin rolled Dosk over easily, the drow not even stirring a bit.

The three of them tranced peacefully.

—

Just one more glass, bottle, whatever. One more and the crawling in his skin would end and he’d feel good again. He’d feel good and then he could see Dosk again.

Astarion had asked to trance alone. He had wanted to. Things were going well, he was playing along—

This dream was about Sebastian. Those hollow, starved eyes and hands clawing through bars. He made it through them in the dream. All the spawn made it through the bars and they took Astarion; they took him and their hands—

A bottle dropped to the floor, joining two other discarded bottles, but didn’t break and Astarion flinched.

Everyone else was asleep or trancing. Waking up, his veins felt like ice and he had scrambled his way to the conversation pit to rifle through their shared traveler’s chest, looking for something to drink. The shaking in his hands made it difficult to pry the bottles open, but he managed.

A creak in the floorboards broke his search.

Astarion spun around to see Halsin’s hulking form at the edge of the room.

“Astarion?” his voice low, he walked closer to where Astarion was standing.

An opportunity.

“Why, hello, darling,” Astarion purred and stood up straight. He sauntered over to Halsin, kicking the discarded bottles out of the way, “You’re just the person I wanted to see.”

Halsin’s eyebrows raised, surprised but interest piqued, “Was there something you needed from me?”

“Yes, there is,” Astarion stood before him, hips cocked and head tilted back to expose his own neck. Though his darkvision muted all color, he could still see how Halsin’s eyes changed. He closed the small gap between them and ran his fingers up Halsin’s arm. “I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer.”

“My offer?” Halsin swallowed.

“For your affections,” Astarion’s hands made their way up to Halsin’s collarbones. He stepped even closer, so that their chests almost touched, “I’m ready for them now.”

“Astarion,” Halsin’s hands came up to press against Astarion’s shoulders, “Is something the matter? You seem… different.”

Astarion laughed, a harsh sound, “No, darling, I’m the same as I’ve always been. Hungry and wanting.” He craned his head up to look at Halsin, eyes hooded and mouth open. “This is what you want, isn’t it? To finally have me.” He brushed his lips on Halsin’s chest and pushed their hips together.

“You smell like drink,” Halsin took a step back. Astarion didn’t like the look in his eyes. It looked close to pity.

“Never mind that,” Astarion stayed on target. Centuries of practice, “You have a chance here, Halsin. Take it. Ravish me with your affections.” He stepped again into the druid’s space. “I’ll make it easy for you.” He played with the neckline of his blouse, dipping his fingers underneath to expose one of his alabaster shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Astarion,” Halsin looked away and his fists clenched, “I care for you too much to do this.”

“Oh, please,” Astarion sneered, “You don’t even know me. You know a fangless spawn, tame and spineless. I could show you the real me, here on this floor, with everyone listening.”

“I know that you don’t really want this,” Halsin replied quickly, looking back at Astarion, “I know you deserve better.”

That rankled Astarion to no end and he felt a sudden pounding in his head and ache in his teeth. “Finally, you speak reason,” Astarion spat, “I do deserve better. Not this useless conversation.” He whirled around to the stairs, losing his composure for a moment and tripping slightly.

“Astarion, where are you going?” Halsin called out behind him.

Astarion didn’t respond and stormed through the Elfsong out into the dark streets of Baldur’s Gate.

It wasn’t long before some sorry Flaming Fist approached him, most likely to apprehend him for being a drunk and sorry mess. It took no effort at all to lure them to a dark corner and drain them of every last drop. Astarion let them crumple to the ground and stepped on their body as he lumbered back to the Elfsong.

His second attempt at trance was dreamless.

—

The morning was no less unkind to Astarion than the night had been. His body ached and there was a foul taste in his mouth. That Flaming Fist had blood sourer than Gale’s and its flavor lingered.

He took his time getting ready, discarding his blood stained clothes from his excursion. He was not looking forward to facing Halsin again.

But as luck and fortune would have it, it was Halsin waiting in the conversation pit. He seemed fit for battle. Dosk must have told him to ready himself for their work today.

Astarion had centuries of pushing guilt and shame down in favor of cruelty and mockery. He could easily push Halsin’s refusal in his own face and show him what he missed. But— that’s not what Astarion wanted.

He made his way over to Halsin.

“Good morning,” Astarion said, without looking Halsin in the eye.

“Good morning, Astarion,” Halsin responded coolly.

“About, uh, last night,” Astarion finally looked the druid in the eye to see dark circles encircling hazel pools. Halsin’s trance must not have gone well. “I wanted to addre— no.” Astarion took a deep breath. “I want to explain.” Something was knotted and gnarled and rotten in the vampire’s chest and he knew he needed to take it out, bare it for Halsin to see. Then the druid would understand and things could go back as they were and Halsin wouldn’t know—

“You do not need to explain, Astarion,” Halsin held up a hand. His eyes softened and he ducked his head, “I am… familiar with such struggles.”

“I hope you’re not actually familiar, darling,” Astarion joked, “It’s not something I would wish upon you.”

“I have not gone through the same struggles,” Halsin admits, “But I understand it’s nature. I am just sorry I could not have helped you more through it. I acted cowardly last night.”

“You didn’t. You are not a coward,” Astarion says firmly, “I tried to… push myself on you.” Astarion barely manages to say it out loud. His fists clenched as a wave of nausea passed over him. “I want to apologize, please.”

“You have already been forgiven,” Halsin murmurs. He steps closer to Astarion, “Just tell me what you need from me, now. To heal.”

“I need,” Astarion sighs, “I need you to know that what I want from you is different and I still don’t know how these things go, but I don’t want… I don’t want whatever that was last night.”

“What do you want, dear heart?” Halsin asks quietly.

“I want,” Astarion closes his eyes and thinks for a second, “I want you to really hear me. To really know me.”

“I want the same,” Halsin was close, his heat uncoiling some of the knot in Astarion’s chest.

“And I want,” Astarion continued, relaxing a bit, “I want you to kiss me, softly, and tell me you care.”

Halsin kissed Astarion’s forehead, “I care deeply for you.”

Astarion sighed again, this time in contentment. After a moment, he stepped back and fussed with his armor. He cleared his throat before saying, “Thank you, druid. I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

“Of course,” Halsin smiled at him and bowed his head.

—

“Gods, my feet are killing me,” Astarion whined.

The three of them, Dosk, Halsin, and Astarion, were two miles outside of Rivington. Dosk and Halsin were itching to ‘hike’ and for whatever reason, Astarion couldn’t remember, he joined them. It was past midday and the sun was at its peak. Dosk and Halsin were covered in a light sheen of sweat from the heat and exertion.

“Halsin offered to let you ride the bear,” Dosk countered.

“Darling, I’m afraid that’s more your thing than mine.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dosk said unashamedly and smirked.

Halsin didn’t say anything, but Astarion saw his smile.

They kept walking, uphill even, until they came to a plateau of wild flowers.There was a large swell of water that gave way to a babbling brook on either end. Pastoral and quaint.

“Now what?” Astarion asked, “Was there a plan for once we got here?”

“To enjoy the bounty of nature!” Halsin called back, making his way to the pond.

Astarion turned to Dosk expectantly, “No, really, darling, what was the plan? The point?”

“The point is about to happen,” Dosk smirked and used his chin to direct Astarion’s attention back to Halsin.

Halsin, already knee deep in the water, was undoing the tie in his hair. He removed his clothing, save for his small clothes and waded right in. Astarion could hear the druid’s sigh of relief and pleasure from where he was still standing with Dosk. Halsin quickly submerged, almost diving in, before cresting above the water’s surface with a gasp. He smoothed his hair back out of his face and basked in the sunshine for a moment and fell backwards into the water to float.

Astarion watched intently, “Is this what you usually do on ‘hikes’ together?”

Dosk sat down in the grass and reached a hand out to Astarion, inviting the vampire to watch with him. “Not always. Sometimes we watch birds.”

“Bird watching, gods,” Astarion scoffed. He sat next to Dosk softly, “But you get in there with him, sometimes?”

“Well,” Dosk began, “I’m an okay swimmer. Not a lot of swimming opportunities in the Underdark. As I got older, I never found the time to learn. Hal’s taught me a bit though.”

“I bet he has.”

“He’s told me I’ve got a strong dog paddle,” Dosk said, smug.

“Cute,” Astarion said truthfully, “He looks so young like this. Almost younger than you.”

“Yeah,” Dosk said breathily and Astarion could hear the affection he had for the druid.

It was another minute before Dosk exclaimed, “Oh shit!”

“Are you alright?” Astarion immediately became alert.

“I’m fine, or maybe I won’t be,” Dosk was babbling, “I told Lae’zel I would help her out today. She’ll kill me if I miss this.”

“Oh,” Astarion relaxed, “Well, you’re right about that. You should hurry.”

“Yes,” Dosk leaned over to kiss Astarion on the cheek, “Please tell Halsin.” He scrambled up and began to run back to Baldur’s Gate. He called back, “And try to enjoy yourself!” At that, he shifted into a cloud of gas and flew away.

Astarion always found it looked a little silly when he did that, but when late to an appointment with a Githyanki warrior such as Lae’zel, you had to use whatever power you had to make it.

When he looked back at the pond, he saw Halsin walking out, rivulets of water cascading over the rises and falls of his musculature. His soaked small clothes did little to obscure the rest of his figure and the midday sun almost made it look as though he were radiating light. Astarion felt a stirring in his groin at the sight. He stared, wide-eyed, until Halsin was only about a meter away

“Was something the matter?” Halsin asked, his brow furrowed, “I heard some shouting. Is Dosk okay?” He looked away from Astarion to scan the surrounding area.

Astarion coughed before responding, “There’s nothing wrong, darling. He double-booked himself and is now running to meet Lae’zel, lest she have him drawn and quartered for missing their engagement.”

Halsin laughed, “He has such sway on so many of our hearts.”

“Yes, well,” Astarion paused, “It looks like it’s just the two of us.”

“That it does,” Halsin’s lips formed something just shy of a smile, “Would you care to join me in the water?”

“That does sound lovely,” Astarion admitted, “But I’m afraid I wouldn’t know how.”

“I could teach you,” Halsin offered his hand, “After Dosk, I think I could teach anyone.”

Astarion’s ears perked at that remark, “Are you saying Dosk, the self-proclaimed Renaissance Man of our times, isn’t actually good at everything?”

“He sinks,” Halsin shrugged. He gestured again with his hand, “Are you coming or will you be leaving me to my own devices?”

Astarion took the offered hand gingerly, though he spoke confidently, “I suppose I should join. Who knows what sort of freakish tree magic you’ll get up to if left alone for too long.”

Halsin beamed at him and led him to the water’s edge. Astarion removed his clothes slowly, relishing in how Halsin watched him. When he was down to his small clothes he dipped his feet into the water. Centuries of fearing running water and now it felt so fresh.

Halsin waded into the water again, fearlessly. He walked until the water came up to his waist and beckoned Astarion closer. The water felt colder as he got deeper. By the time it reached his thighs it felt too cold to continue.

“The water is frigid, druid,” Astarion whined, “You’ll have to remedy that or our little swim date is cancelled.”

“You want me to help you?” Halsin asked, both eyebrows raised.

“Yes, yes,” Astarion waved his hand, “Perform one of your druid tricks! I’m sure you have something for this.”

“A druid trick, you say?”

“Ugh, yes, you’re making this weird. Just do it!”

Famous last words apparently, as Astarion was immediately soaked in pond water from head to toe. Halsin splashed him. The vampire seethed as Halsin bit his lip to curb his laughter. “Did that trick work?” the older elf asked.

“I’m going to kill you,” Astarion said calmly, “Dosk will just have to do without his sweet, nature loving paramour.” He waded into the water with purpose.

Before he reached Halsin, the older elf jetted away, sluicing through the water easily. “I think you’ll have to catch me before you can kill me,” Halsin called out. He was treading water a few meters away. The water must be much deeper there.

“Come back here and face the consequences!” Astarion called back.

“Alright!” Halsin said before swimming back over. Before long he was towering over Astarion, dripping wet and smiling, “You’ve caught me. I await my punishment.”

Astarion’s breath hitched. He raked his eyes over Halsin’s form, pausing over the druid’s peaked nipples. When his eyes made it back to Halsin’s face, he almost felt his heart beat again. Halsin’s expression was playful. He wanted Astarion to play back.

“Well, given the circumstances,” Astarion spoke slowly, “I’ve decided to change the nature of your punishment. You’re to teach me how to conquer this icy water.”

“I accept this sentence willingly,” Halsin responded, “Do I have permission to proceed?”

“You do,” Astarion raised his chin to give his best haughty look.

“Swimming lessons require touch,” Halsin explained, “Do I also have permission to touch you?”

“You do,” Astarion’s haughty expression curled into a smirk.

“Come deeper, then,” Halsin’s voice was husky and he cupped the back of Astarion’s elbow, leading him through the water, until they were in up to Astarion’s chest and Halsins navel. Halsin’s hands circled Astarion’s forearms. “You’re going to put your weight in my hands and lift your feet up.”

“Alright, I suppose I’m just going to trust you to not drop me to my death,” Astarion did as he was told and found he floated easily. His only problem was keeping the pond water out of his mouth. He sputtered a few times.

“Don’t worry about the water,” Halsin said, “I’ve got you.” He removed one arm from Astarion’s forearm and traced along the vampire’s submerged abdomen. The combination of the cool water and the druid’s hands caused the fine hairs of Astarion’s body to stand on end. Halsin must have noticed because he asked, “Are you still cold?”

“Obviously,” Astarion answered with no bite, “Stand closer.”

Halsin immediately obeyed the command. His wet skin brushed against Astarion’s with each move of the current. “Is this better?” Halsin’s voice practically rumbled.

“It’s a start,” Astario responded, “Now get on with it.”

Halsin’s other hand left Astarion’s arm to cup his chin, so he was held aloft by only two points. “You need to breathe slowly and relax. The water will carry you,” Halsin said, deep and even, “How do you feel?”

The water and Halsin’s voice could have lulled Astarion into trance. “Fine,” the vampire said.

“Good,” Halsin removed a hand from Astarion’s chin, “And now?”

Halsin’s remaining hand was pressed below Astarions navel. The pressure caused another stirring in the vampire’s groin. “Still fine.”

“Perfect,” Halsin said and though Astarion could not see his face, he could envision the smile. “Try swinging your arms in an arc right in front of you. Circle them back. Yes, just like that.”

“This feels rather… silly,” Astarion said.

“It’s not, you’re doing wonderfully,” the druid assured him.

The praise made Astarion feel even warmer.

“Keep doing that, nice and even,” Halsin kept talking as Astarion concentrated on his movements, “I’m going to let go now. Keep steady.”

“You’re going to wha—“ and then Halsin’s hand was gone.

“Keep your legs up,” Halsin coached, “Don’t panic.”

“‘Don’t panic’ he says,” Astarion muttered as he struggled to stay afloatat. Much to his surprise, he was. He moved slowly through the water and Halsin stayed close to him, walking slowly through the water. “Well, this isn’t so hard at all.”

“I think you’ve already surpassed Dosk in skill,” Halsin encouraged him.

“Ha! I’ll have to te—“ He was cut off when something slinked through his legs and he shrieked. Panicking in the water, he floundered until Halsin caught him. In his hurry to escape whatever beast besieged him, he clung to Halsin, wrapping his arms around the large elf. “What the hells was that?!”

Halsin’s hands had quickly wrapped around his waist in an effort to still him. With one hand he pointed over at a beaver, paddling away without a care for Astarion’s well-being. “Just another creature, enjoying the brook like us,” Halsin said as though the beaver had the right to act like that.

“Foul rat,” Astarion glared at it as it swam away. It dipped underneath the water again and Astarion’s temper cooled, allowing him to refocus his attention. Halsin was still holding him up, one arm on his waist and Astarion’s legs wrapped around Halsin’s. The druid was looking up at him, a smile tugging at his thin lips and his eyes were narrowed from the bright sun overhead. “Are you enjoying this?” Astarion asks, voice rife with a false sense of umbridge.

“I enjoy most moments with you,” Halsin answered.

“And this? Do you enjoy this?” Astarion brought his hand down from behind Halsin’s neck to rest on the druid’s chest. He ran his fingers through the damp, coarse hair slowly and licked his lips.

“Yes. Do you?”

Astarion paused and focused on how their skin felt touching, sliding; how the flat planes of their body fit snugly together; how Halsin’s eyes looked at him as though he was a whole person, someone to know and understand. “Yes, very much so,” he finally responded.

Halsin let out a long breath, “Good.” He leaned forward and pressed his face into the crook of Astarion’s neck and inhaled before pressing a light kiss where Astarion’s jaw and neck met.

Astarion sighed and smiled, angling his head away to give Halsin more access to his throat. Halsin obliged and kissed a line down his throat to his shoulder. Astarion’s hand found the back of Halsin’s head and he ran his fingers through the druid’s tawny brown hair. Halsin’s kisses grew more insistent and Astarion could feel he was going to bruise in a few spots. One kiss, over the spot where his pulse would be, hot and sharp with ample teeth, drew a groan from Astarion’s mouth. The vampire tightened his legs around Halsin’s waist, grinding his hips into the solid abdomen in front of him. Halsin gasped in response and the pair locked eyes.

“Halsin,” Astarion whispered, “Do you think we could take this over to dry land? I still don’t quite have my sea legs.”

Halsin nodded without a word and walked them both over to brook bank. Halsin carried Astarion the entire way, walking slowly, kissing Astarion’s neck. When back on land, Astarion loosened his legs and Halsin placed him gently on his feet in the grass. Astarion’s hands were still wrapped around the druid’s neck and he used them to pull the other man down into a long, open mouthed kiss. Halsin’s hands came around Astarion to encircle the vampire in a crushing embrace. The kiss was wet and messy, teeth clacking and catching on lips and tongues. Astarion did his best to keep his fangs away but Halsin had thrown caution to the wind. One of Halsin’s hands trailed down Astarion’s side to grip his white hip hard and pushed him away suddenly.

They parted breathing hard, Astarion’s eye wide and openly hurt, his hands still on Halsin’s shoulders.

“Darling, is— is there something wrong?” Astarion asked, “Have I done something?”

Halsin looked down at Astarion, pupils blown wide and wet hair plastered to his neck, “Astarion, I need you to tell me what you want.”

Confused, Astarion furrowed his brow and cocked his head, “Isn’t it obvious what I want?” He leaned in for another kiss when Halsin turned his head away.

“Please, Astarion,” Halsin’s voice was breathless, “Please tell me.”

Astarion could swear his chest was caving in and he froze. He must have hesitated for a moment too long because Halsin straightened his back, raising his face from Astarion’s reach. Halsin almost moved from Astarion’s embrace when the vampire found his voice again.

“I want—“

Halsin stopped, his eyes wide and watching.

“I want,” Astarion swallowed, “To lay with you, in this field.”

Halsin did not hesitate before falling to his knees, looking up at Astarion. Astarion looked down at him, though not very far. Even on his knees he came to just under Astarion’s chest. Astarion’s mouth watered at the sight of him down below and his groin throbbed. He could see Halsin’s hardness through his small clothes as well.

Astarion knelt to join him and Halsin’s hands were on him again. The vampire gasped in sudden pleasure. Lips locked again, they tumbled down, side by side, into the wild grasses and flowers. Halsin pressed his body flush against Astarion’s and the vampire hissed at the friction. Halsin’s hand gripped Astarion’s ass and tugged him even closer somehow. Astarion could hear how heavily he breathed through his nose and how his heart thundered. They broke for a moment and Astarion looked at Halsin through his lashes.

“What are you going to do with me, Halsin? Now that I’m yours.”

Halsin’s mouth hung open in plain adoration. He licked his lips before answering, “Nothing that you don’t explicitly want.”

“Explicitly?” Astarion asked, raising his brows, “You want me to tell you more.”

Halsin nodded, “Please.” The adoration was relentless.

“Well,” Astarion swallowed again, “I uh, I can try, darling, but this isn’t my strong suit.”

Halsin waited.

“I want… you to kiss my neck again,” Astarion’s voice petered out into whisper.

Halsin did so with an unmatched fervor, grabbing at Astarion’s waist and ass. Astarion moaned and wrapped his arms around Halsin’s shoulders and pressed his nails lightly into the druid’s skin.

“What else do you want, love?” Halsin said into Astarion’s neck.

“Ah,” Astarion breathed out, “I want you to kiss my chest.”

Halsin’s mouth made its way down Astarion’s chest, licking and tasting.

“My nipples,” Astarion said, “I want your mouth on them.”

In moment, Halsin’s mouth completely closed over one of Astarion’s nipples, his large hand moving to tease at the other. With his tongue and teeth, he flicked and tugged and the tender pink flesh. Astarion keened and pulled on Halsin’s hair. The druid moaned and Astarion’s cock ached, straining against his small clothes. It wasn’t long before his chest was over stimulated and Astarion exclaimed in pain and pleasure.

“Put your hand on my cock,” Astarion rushed out, “I want your hands on me.”

Halsin did so, pulling Astarion’s small clothes down just enough, not compromising his attention to Astarion’s chest. His hand was tight on Astarion’s cock, gripping and pumping. His calluses caught on Astarion’s skin and the pale elf winced.

“I want you to spit in your hand.”

Halsin raised his head from Astarion’s chest to look the vampire in the eye. Their eyes stayed locked as he spit into his large hand. They stayed looking at each other even as Halsin’s hand returned to Astarion’s cock, wet and hot. Astarion crashed his lips into Halsin’s and fucked the druid’s hand. They parted, short of breath and Astarion buried his face in Halsin’s shoulder.

“Bite me,” Astarion said between gasps, “I want you to bite me. Anywhere.”

Halsin bit Astarion’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood if the vampire had any. Astarion cried loud and his hips stuttered. His orgasm was hard and intense, spraying across Halsin’s tanned thigh. Halsin stroked Astarion’s hair through it, pumping his cock until Astarion’s hand came down to stop the motion. Astarion’s chest was heaving and he rolled over onto his back, closing his eyes. Halsin propped himself up on one arm to look down at the pale elf, smiling softly. Astarion peeked at him with one eye.

“Are you going to perform this little exercise now?” Astarion asked in between heaving breaths.

Halsin chuckled, “It appears as though you are sated, Star. We do not have to progress any further.”

Astarion turned his head fully to look at Halsin with a crooked smile, “I don’t believe I said I wanted to stop. Do you?”

Halsin appeared visibly taken aback, “No.”

“Then,” Astarion fully sat up, “I want you on your back.”

Halsin obliged and Astarion removed his small clothes entirely before straddling the older elf.

“Do you find this position agreeable, druid?” Astarion asked.

“Very much so,” Halsin’s hands were lying in the grass, not touching Astarion. Astarion could see his knuckles turn white as he gripped the grass beneath him.

“Good,” Astarion nodded, “Now, I want your hands on me. Anywhere.” Maybe he was still riding the high from his orgasm, or maybe this feeling of control was something Astarion had been craving. As Halsin’s hands came up to touch his thighs, hips, chest, Astarion felt his cock twitch again. Halsin’s hands came grazing and rubbing, touching Astarion everywhere. He felt only Halsin and the warmth of the sun. Relishing in the feeling, he threw his head back and hummed in pleasure, rolling his hips to feel Halsin’s clothed hardness press at the cleft of his ass. Halsin grunted at the motion, his hands rougher for the moment it happened.

“I want my hands on you,” Astarion said, “Alright?”

“Alright,” Halsin responded. Astarion ran his hands over Halsin’s chest. They were both dry now, save for their hair, and Astarion savored the way Halsin’s body hair felt. It went all the way down below his small clothes and all the way up to his clavicles. Raking his hands over Halsin’s pecs, he leaned down for another kiss. This one was slow and wet and Halsin’s moan into it was long and loud. Astarion rolled his hips again and Halsin broke the kiss with a gasp. Halsin’s hands came to his head and buried in his hair, pulling him farther down. Halsin’s hips bucked up into him and the druid’s face flushed. Astarion felt power held in that aborted thrust and wanted.

Astarion pulled back to sit upright in Halsin’s lap again, “I want you to prepare me.” He leaned over to their discarded clothing and was grateful they hadn’t walked much further into the field. He grabbed Halsin’s pack and handed it down to the druid, “I’m sure you have something in there you can use as lubricant.”

Sure enough, Halsin did. He quickly produced a small vial of green oil and coated his fingers with it. It had a fresh and sweet scent that piqued Astarion’s interest, “What is that darling? Have you been carrying it around with high hopes?”

“No, but I am very glad to have it now,” Halsin responded, “To be honest, it is something I use for joint pain. My shoulder aches when it rains.”

Something clicked for Astarion. It smelled of mint, the same mint Halsin usually smelled of. “So that’s why you always smell so good,” Astarion took a deep breath and hummed. He lifted his hips to give Halsin better access.

“I suppose so,” Halsin smiled before gesturing with his hands, “This may have… an additional sensation.”

Astarion did not get a chance to respond as Halsin slid a hand between his legs and circled his entrance. The oil was slick and warm, but it tingled. Astarion gasped from the sensation and arched his back. Halsin’s other hand drifted upward to rub over Astarion’s body, just feeling, searching. He didn’t pull or pinch, just an even caress over Astarion’s cold skin. The hand between Astarion’s legskept circling, pressing so lightly but not enough to penetrate. The oil spread between his cheeks and just behind his balls so that his whole groin felt alight.

His cock was semihard now and he gave it a squeeze, losing himself in pleasure. He looked down at Halsin to find the druid staring at his groin, enraptured with the sight. Astarion raised and eyebrow and began pumping his cock and Halsin’s mouth fell open. The druid’s breath became ragged and punctuated with small grunts. Astarion smirked and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as Halsin plunged a finger inside. The vampire gasped and rolled his hips onto Halsin’s hand, chasing his pleasure.

For what seemed like far too long, Halsin pumped a single finger in and out while Astarion tugged at his own cock.

“Druid,” Astarion gasped out, “I think I said I wanted you to prepare me, not drive me mad. I want it faster.”

Halsin obliged with another finger and Astarion hissed in satisfaction.

“I want another.”

Again, Halsin was forthcoming. Three fingers inside, Astarion felt stretched and full. He was fully hard and Halsin below him was sweating and breathing hard.

“I want you inside me, now.”

Halsin’s nose flared and he closed his eyes, pausing his ministrations for a moment. Opening his eyes again he removed his hand and hiked his hips up to finally remove his smallclothes. The movement has Halsin’s large, bare cock touch Astarion’s back and the vampire felt a shiver of excitement run through him. When Halsin settled back down, Astarion positioned himself directly over the older elf’s cock. He reached behind him to grab Halsin’s cock and hold it steady. Halsin breathed heavily through his nose at the contact but held still. Astarion beckoned for the oil and when Halsin handed it to him, he turned as far as he could to pour some over Halsin’s cock.

“Halsin?” Astarion asked, “It’s your turn. I want you to tell me what you want.”

“Gods, Astarion,” Halsin croaked, “I want every part of you.”

Astarion bit back a moan at the sound of Halsin’s desire and guided Halsin’s cock into him, slowly sinking to the hilt. Halsin threw his head back to the ground and gripped Astarion’s thighs. Halsin was much larger than Dosk, much larger than most of his lovers in fact. Adjusting to Halsin’s girth, Astarion brought one of Halsin’s hands to his cock.

“I want you to move your hand fast.”

As Halsin’s hand started to work Astarion’s cock, Astarion rolled his hips experimentally, dragging moans from the both of them. Astarion rose and sank a few more times before finding the angle that made Astarion cry out and scrabble at Halsin’s chest. Halsin’s hands dragged from Astarion’s thighs to cup his backside. Astarion looked down at Halsin, his eyes glazed with pleasure, jaw slack, and hair tangled in the grass and found him beautiful.

Astarion fucked himself harder on Halsin’s cock just to watch his face. As he worked, sweat beaded on Halsin’s brow and chest. On one particularly hard bounce, Halsin’s eyes rolled back in his head and his back arched.

“I want you to fuck me back,” Astarion gasped, “Fuck me harder than you think I can take.”

Halsin’s hips snapped up immediately and Astarion keened. He scratched red lines into Halsin’s chest, causing the druid to gasp. The pace was unrelenting. Astarion couldn’t tell who was more forceful, their hips slapping and muscles smacking into each other. Halsin’s cock was hitting right where it needed to and Astarion could feel he would come again soon. Halsin’s hand still worked on his cock, squeezing almost too hard.

Astarion leaned down to kiss Halsin, and it was moslty teeth. They groaned and moaned into each other’s mouth, and without meaning to, Astarion drew blood. He leaned back to look at his work, Halsin’s face smeared with blood and sweat. Astarion had reopened the wound from their first kiss. When Halsin’s tongue stuck out to lap at his own blood, Astarion’s eyes widened and for a split second, he could think of nothing else.

Halsin’s thrusts soon lost time with Astarion’s and his hips stuttered. He made a choked sound that Astarion would have missed if not for the hot and wet feeling he felt already dripping from his backside. Halsin’s hand on Astarion’s cock paused for a second before continuing. Astarion kept fucking himself on Halsin’s softening cock until he came with a gasp, his come shooting over the bloody scratch marks covering Halsin’s chest.

They remained still for a moment until they both decided a wash was in order. Before standing, they shared slow kiss, Astarion’s tongue plundering Halsin’s mouth to the point where the older elf whimpered. Together they waded into the water to wash off.

“You never healed that cut,” Astarion pointed out, “The one I gave you on your lip.”

“Ah,” Halsin ducked his head, “Well, I did clean it properly.”

“I’m glad you had that much sense,” Astarion said drily, “But you didn’t heal it, like your hand with your little berries.”

The tips of Halsin’s ears turned pink, “I liked the way it looked.”

“A moment of vanity?” Astarion asked.

“No,” Halsin shooked his head and smiled, “I liked seeing your kiss on my face.”

Astarion couldn’t believe he felt another flutter in his stomach, “You liked me marking you?”

“Yes,” Halsin replied, “A lot.”

Astarion closed the space in the water between them and reached a hand up to touch Halsin’s face. “I think I like it, too.” They kissed softly and quietly.

“Come,” Halsin said, pulling back, “As much as I would like to keep you here, we have a long walk back and I believe Dosk intends to take you on the excursion to the House of Grief.”

“Lucky me,” Astarion muttered, “Do you think Dosk intended to leave us here alone?”

Halsin shrugged, “I would not put that behavior behind him. But as much I love him, I must admit, he cannot keep to a schedule. His heart is too wild.”

Astarion thought of their shared love and rolled his eyes, “Truly.”

They dressed in silence and began the walk back to the city, arms brushing every so often. It’s Astarion who spoke first,

“Darling,” Astarion’s voice is full of caution, “As lovely as that was, I… I’m not sure I can give you that all the time. I can’t always be that… in control.”

“I do not expect you to be,” Halsin said, “You were kind enough to give me what I needed and wanted. If, in the future, you cannot, you do not have to.”

“But, I want to,” Astarion said quickly and firmly, “I don’t always know what I want and how to want, but I know I want to give to you. There just isn’t always something there.” As they kept walking, Astarions hand came up to touch his chest. It felt colder than usual.

Halsin took his hand and stopped their walk. “I wish you would not worry so much about needing to give me anything,” Halsin looked him square in his eyes, “Whatever we share, whatever we have, is not meant to be transactional. I do not expect anything in return.”

Astarion sighed, “Gods, you sound like Dosk now.”

Halsin chuckled, “He and I both agree that love is not a commodity. It is part of why I came to care for him.”

Astarion walked a half-step closer to Halsin and leaned into his chest, “The two of you are absolutely ridiculous, you know.” Halsin’s arms came up to engulf him in a tight embrace.

When they return to camp, they both kiss Dosk, telling him they love him and the three retire to his chambers, resting before taking on another day.