Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Astarion slinks through the drunken patrons of the Elfsong Tavern, resisting the urge to pinch his nose as he passes by the ripe men and women. As much fun as he’s been having, today’s been a long day and he doesn’t feel up to making it a long night as well. The party had done exactly one thing, but that one thing was delving to the depths of the Iron Throne and rescuing Duke Ravengard and all the Gondian gnomes, much to Astarion’s distaste, as well as that mind flayer that they had met in the Underdark. He makes his way towards the stairs that lead to the second floor, sitting down on them to reflect.

It was a grueling task, and Astarion would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been scared. As soon as the four of them had set foot into the Throne the entire structure began to collapse on itself, quickly flooding the corridors. Wyll had immediately ran towards the cells that contained his father, while Halsin engaged a Sahuagin in combat. At that moment Astarion thought that everything would be easier than he imagined, with Wyll getting his father and the three of them opening the Gondians cells, but Gale had barked something about, “going to save Omeluum” and the next moment Astarion could see Mizora appear down the hall and summon a batch of spiders.

The next eighteen seconds were a blur, Astarion having to leave Halsin to deal with the Gondians to go help Wyll and the duke. The three of them had only made it halfway back to the submersible when Astarion had seriously started considering leaving the Duke behind, before that mind flayer had appeared.

“Where’s Gale!” Astarion snapped. “We were separated, he gave me orders to aid you and I obliged.” it had said in a frustratingly calm voice, before laying its hand on Ravenguard’s shoulder and disappearing in a blink.

Without having to protect the duke, Astarion and Wyll dashed back to the ladder as the last Gondian climbed up. Wyll was quick to follow, and Astarion started climbing after, turning to see Halsin staring down the hall Gale had run, “Come on!”

Haslin shook his head, “I’m not leaving until the last second we have.”

“That’s right now!” Astarion nearly screamed, climbing the last few rungs to get onto the platform before turning around and looking down the hole. Halsin kept his eyes straight forward, putting one hand on the ladder. The next five seconds had felt like Astarion was already drowning, in his peripheral he could see the outer corridors fully collapsing in on themselves, he could hear the echoing screeches of Sahuagin filling the remaining space.

Astarion was about to call out to the stupid druid one more time before leaving, but before he could get his words out Halsin let out a sharp exhale, “Quickly! Hurr-” Halsin’s words were cut off by a blue sparkly mist, Gale practically appearing in his hands. Halsin wasted no time, grabbing Gale around his hips and shoving him up the ladder. Astarion helps, grabbing the sopping wet man under his arms and pulling him up, the two of them scrambling up the last ladder and into the submersible, quickly followed by Halsin who shut the capsule right as everything under them exploded.

Astarion can still feel the heat that pushed itself through the metal, he was fully convinced that they were all going to fry, but they didn’t. Everyone had made it back to the surface safely, Ravengard had some drawn out boring conversation with Wyll and Gale that he couldn’t be bothered to listen to, and then that night everyone decided to go downstairs and celebrate.

Watching from the stairs, Astarion is a bit miffed that they’re all still here, and even more surprised that Gortash hasn’t sent for their execution. He watches all the women in their party drink, surrounding Wyll and listening intently as he recounts their adventure. He can't understand what Wyll is saying over the loud singing and dancing of the other patrons, but he’s far from bothered. Everything all day has been loud, and seeing Astarion has no quota to be filled and how the sound of the music is hurting his ears, he stands up and makes his way up into their rooms.

When he opens the door the first thing he notices is how empty it is. In only a second Astarion works everything out. Most of the party is still downstairs, and are probably going to be down there until the sun rises, and Mizora isn’t standing in her corner, probably too embarrassed that she couldn’t foil their rescue mission. Jaheira had mentioned something about her kids threatening her to come home for a night. The child that had been hanging around their camp, no thanks to Gale, talked about spending the night with that Hag obsessed woman they had saved again. Chances are that’s where Scratch and the owlbear cub had gone off as well, and Volo seems to have disappeared which isn’t particularly uncommon.

None of that seemed unusual, all of them having pretty good explanations, except for the fact that Withers is also gone. Usually when walking through the double doors of their room the wrinkled corpse is standing perfectly in view in the corner, but he is nowhere to be seen.

A wail draws Astarion’s attention away from the uncannily empty corner. Now that he’s paying a bit more attention, there are a lot more noises that seem to be emanating from somewhere around Halsin and Shadowheart’s bed. The view into that corner is perfectly blocked by some drapes and a plant, but leaning his head over a bit Astarion can see what’s…

“Oh my.” Astarion whispers under his breath, lips drawing back in a mischievous smirk. His eyes lock onto something he could only describe as delectable. Gale and Halsin are fully nude, and on top of that, going at it like animals. They’re both sitting up on their knees with Gale facing Astarion and completely exposed. His legs are being spread by Halsin’s knees, his arms are reached up and behind him grabbing onto the back of Halsin’s neck. Astarion can still see most of Halsin’s body, given how much taller and wider he is than Gale, but his face is buried into the crook of Gale’s neck and his cock is buried in Gale's ass. All while his hands are digging into the pudge of Gale’s hips to keep the man in place as he absolutely fucking rails into him.

Astarion has to hold back a chuckle of pure shock and amazement, the grin never leaving his face. This is so much better than being at the bar downstairs. Instead standing right up against the closed door, watching as Gale gets pounded into by the massive unit that is Halsin. He licks his lips, eyes drifting from Gale’s short rock hard cock bouncing with each thrust, to his scrunched up face that makes it look like he’s almost in pain.

“H-Halsin, ah, Halsin-” Astarion can hear Gale cry out clear as day despite the fact that he’s clearly trying to restrain himself. He can still barely believe it. That unbelievably hard-headed wizard, who nearly got himself killed earlier today, managed to get himself bedded by the member of the party that everyone besides Wyll wanted to taste. He can’t help but wonder if this is their first time, or if this is just the first time someone’s caught them. He knows that if he thought about it a bit more, given the way Halsin was acting down in the Iron Throne, he could probably figure it out, but why bother “figuring things out” when he’s got a wonderful show in front of him.

Even from this distance Astarion can hear Halsin’s breathing, although he can’t tell if it’s through effort or because of some weird scent kink the druid may have. Either way, Astarion admires the way Halsin moves his entire body when thrusting into Gale, the loud slapping of skin on skin in harmony with the grunts and whines Gale makes. One of Gale’s arms drifts down from Halsin’s neck, clearing gunning for his abandoned cock, but Halsin releases his grip on Gale’s thighs and gently pushes his arms back up.

Astarion feels a rush of warmth fill his cold body as Gale obediently follows the silent command, bringing his hand back to its original place, his thighs straining to push themselves together only to be stopped by Halsin’s legs that stay firmly planted between them. His panting and moaning gets more frequent and higher in pitch, sweat dripping down his forehead and neck. Astarion can’t restrain himself, placing one foot in front of the other to bring himself closer, to get a better look.

He’s now fully in view of both of them, but they’re too enraptured in the feeling of one another to glace up or even open their eyes. Now that he’s closer, he can see Gale close his fist around Halsin’s hair, can see the way Gale’s own hair sticks to his forehead. He can see Halsin whisper something into Gale’s neck but can’t make out what he says, although Gale’s response gives him a few ideas.

“Yes, oh yes please, please!” He arches his back, his torso twisting as much as it can with his arms behind him and his hips firmly in place. His breath becomes ragged, his teeth grinding together. Astarion can only imagine how long they’ve been going at it. Can only wonder if they started in this position, or maybe they were face to face, grinding against each other, or maybe Halsin was sucking Gale off until Gale turned himself around, maybe Halsin was the one to flip him over. Astarion feels like he’s been cheated now, unimaginably curious about how these two interact in bed from start to climax. He could probably just ask Halsin, but Gale might actually detonate if Astarion thought about asking.

Speaking of, Astarion realizes he hasn’t even noticed Gale’s orb. The flowing purple marks of his scars are a beautiful accessory to his sweaty, hairy body. His full thighs and soft stomach are such an intense contrast to the sharp lines decorating his body. The way they lead up to his face, retreating under his beard before reappearing right below his left eye, aging him probably ten years. Astarion is looking over his body, fully engrossed in the way his body twitches, Gale’s eyebrows pinch together as his eyes ever so slightly crack open.

Astarion can feel the phantom beating of his heart quicken with excitement as he makes direct eye contact with Gale. He watches the man’s already flushed skin turn an even deeper red as his eyes widen in horror. He quickly moves his arms away, trying to push them down to cover his fully visible, weeping erection, but Halsin, still unaware of Astarion’s presence, grabs Gale’s triceps and keeps them up even with Gale’s struggle. “Ast- ah! Ngh-” Gale doesn’t finish his exclamation, unable to speak as all his muscles visibly tighten when Halsin picks up his pace, baring his teeth against Gale’s neck as he lets out a deep growl. Gale trembles and quivers for a second before closing his eyes as an absolutely shameful moan rips from his throat as he cums, his release squirting onto Halsin’s sheets, a trace amount catching on his own stomach hair. Loud, greedy gasps of air fill his throat instead of words, his eyes blinking open as they fill with tears of unadulterated embarrassment.

Halsin only thrusts into Gale a few more times before he lets out a low moan, his hips rolling and his hands letting go of Gale’s arms to grope at the poor man’s hairy chest, nipping at his neck. Gale immediately tries to cover himself with his hands and all Astarion can do is smile. Like him hiding his cock is going to help now.

“A-Astarion!” Gale exclaims, wriggling around much to Halsin’s discontent. Halsin glances up from where his face rests on Gale’s shoulder, before leaning back and sitting up to his full height, his expression unreadable. He stares directly at Astarion, only glancing down briefly to look at Gale trying to hide himself, then runs his hands down Gale’s sides in a soothing motion before spreading his hand to do a much more effective job at covering Gale’s parts. The elf shifts forward a bit, causing Gale to make a very unintentional moan as Halsin’s cock probably pushes against something deep inside. Astarion takes the movement as his sign to go, “Oh dear, my apologies you two, I’ll be on my way!” He says in a sing-song voice. Halsin is already a very intimidating and rather protective man, and Astarion doesn’t particularly feel like finding out how that translates to being walked in on postcoital.

Without so much as a wave, Astarion bolts towards the door, closing it hard behind him without looking back.

Chapter Text

Astarion considered going down and telling the whole gang about what he had stumbled upon, but unfortunately for him and the devil on his shoulder, he knew that he would feel bad when Gale eventually found out that everyone knew in very intricate detail about his interaction with Halsin. Unfortunately he’s grown just a bit too much as a person, which is really a shame. Gale’s face would be hilarious.

Instead he just returns downstairs and nestles himself into a comparatively quiet corner, sipping on piss poor wine while grinning to himself. He returns to the room at the same time as everyone else as they all get ready for bed. A quick glance towards Halsin’s personal bed shows that it’s empty, and glancing to the other side reveals that he’s already in his trance in the more comfortable beds that all the members that go out adventuring sleep in. Karlach has swapped out with Wyll, meaning that she’ll be traveling with them in the morning, but as Astarion walks up to the bed across from Halsin’s, he finds it empty. Leaning back just a bit, Astarion can see the lump that is Gale back near his own personal bed, the one that’s usually right next to Astarion.

He’s completely covered by his sheets, head and all, and with the shape that Astarion can see he can tell that Gale’s back is turned. How ridiculous, running off and hiding just because he got caught during sex, Halsin clearly didn’t mind. Shrugging to himself, Astarion crawls into the bed that's beneath Karlachs and drifts into his trance.

The next morning starts off a bit stranger than usual, but not by much. Wyll is the one near the cook pot serving everyone breakfast instead of Gale. Astarion runs into Halsin rather quickly, seeing as he’s clearly not trying to avoid Astarion. He asks Astarion about how his night went, Astarion responds in kind, and there’s nothing stiff or unnatural about the conversation. Halsin only leaves to go start putting his armor on, to which Astarion does the same.

That, however, is where Astarion runs into Gale, which isn’t shocking considering their beds and gear are only a few feet away from each other. Gale is bent over organizing all of his scrolls when Astarion walks between the room dividers. He tries to act nonchalant about it, simply trying to get his gear, but Gale turns around and literally screams much to Astarion, and the entire room’s, surprise.

The two of them stare for a bit, Gale slowly turning a bright red. Karlach very dramatically pokes her head around the dividers, followed less dramatically by Lae’zel. Karlach looks at Gale, then at Astarion, then back at Gale, “No need to scream, it’s the same vampire we’ve been with for months.” She teases, Lae’zel rolling her eyes and walking off.

“I think he’s just… a bit pent up from yesterday darling.” Astarion replies without missing a beat, which is a satisfactory enough answer for Karlach as she returns to her business. By the time Astarion’s looking back at Gale, he’s shoved the remainder of his scrolls and potions into his pack and is swiftly making his way towards Wyll to eat whatever remains of breakfast.

Their days are pretty uneventful until they start investigating Sorcerous Sundries, getting into a scuffle with the stupid wizard that owns it and then saving a tiefling Astarion thinks he remembers. While thankfully Gale has managed to stay focused during battle, during all the in-betweens he’s still a mess whenever he notices Astarion even glance towards him.
Astarion is pretty sure that he would just be amused by this if it didn’t result in Gale not looking closely enough at a genie lamp and getting “eternally trapped inside” for all of two minutes, much to Karlach’s confusing (and excitement while fighting said genie), or nearly getting himself disintegrated while trying to take some well-trapped loot at the bottom of the tower.

As the day starts coming to a close though Gale eventually becomes self-aware about how his embarrassment is a risk to his own safety, slowly going back to his usual self. That is until Elminster shows up. Astarion did actually try to listen, but basically all he got from it was, “Mystra’s not very happy you didn’t blow yourself up, now you’ve got powerful items, go talk to her.” Even Astarion has to admit, it was pretty nerve wracking, and the look on Gale’s face when he returned from communing with Mystra didn’t ease any tension.

The party decided to move out to Rivington to wrap up a loose end involving rigged explosives, and set up camp there instead of trudging all the way back to the inn. Astarion didn’t mind, seeing as he wasn’t able to feed on any of the elementals they fought, being closer to the forests in Rivington gives him better opportunities to feed.

He waits about as long as he usually does until everyone is well asleep, then rolls away from the fire without even opening his eyes, and starts stalking through the forest. It’s very stereotypical to think that the forest is quiet compared to the city, Astaion thinks it's just as loud, just in a different way. He doesn’t go far before he can hear a faint rustling underneath the chatter of the forest, a rustling that is definitely not a normal part of it.

Thinking it’s just some dumb injured animal, ergo, easy prey, Astarion slinks towards the sound. Eyes and ears sharp, he prowls in a slight circle until he can see his prey. Gods dammit. It takes every fiber of Astarions being to not burst into hysterical laughter. Between the branches and the leaves of the foliage, he can see two very familiar figures doing a very familiar dance.

He truly can’t believe it, he goes from not even being aware these two were an item, to running in on them twice in only a few days. He knows he should just leave, he easily could, but watching them last time was just so… alluring. Astarion will step closer and closer, getting a better and better look until eventually he gets too close and one of them notices. Then he’ll fain innocent, despite the fact that it really was pure coincidence that got him here, and go trotting away looking for a proper meal.

He takes one step closer, giving himself a clear view of them. A different position this time, much different. Missionary, which Astarion would scoff at had he not seen what they were doing a few days ago, Halsin on top of Gale, pressed so closely to one another that it’s almost impossible to see Gale. Halsin is rocking his hips slowly, softly, barely any power in each thrust. Astarion tries tilting and shifting to try to see Gale, but he’s too well hidden.

Astarion’s almost bored at how bland their sex is, especially knowing what they’re capable of, but as he inches closer he can hear Gale’s soft moans. Halsin’s whispering something in his ear, long sentences, not mere bedroom talk, like he’s serenading Gale to sleep. That piques Astarion’s interest. He steps even closer, needing to hear just a tidbit of what Halsin is saying. How dirty are his words, is it that or his cock that’s making Gale moan. Astarion simply has to know.

Astarion's smile widens as he finally gets close enough that he can hear the two of them clearly over the background noise of the forest. Once the noises hit his ears his smile quickly drops, as what he thought were moans from Gale turn out to actually be soft, gentle crying. Astarion feels like an icicle has just been driven through his gut. This isn’t like last time, he hasn’t been watching passionate sex to relieve some pent up stress, no, he’s been watching very personal, very emotionally vulnerable intercorse. Fuck. It’s probably about Mystra.

Astarion is completely taken out of the moment, feeling a heavy blanket of dread lower onto him. Halsin’s slow thrusts paired with Gale’s weak sobs make Astarion feel horrible. He needs to leave. He takes a step back, and only a moment before his foot hit the ground does the realize he needs to watch where he’s going.

Like someone breaking a bone, a twig snaps. The noise makes everyone and everything freeze, the humming of the forest nothing more than a light breeze. Astarion feels like an idiot as he just stands there, Gods, he used to just not care, but these are two people that were so kind and gentle to him after killing Cazador, really just the entire time they’ve had their tadpoles, and this is really how he’s returning the favor.

Halsin looks up towards him, and Gale tries to look even though it’s a bit hard considering Astarion’s right behind him. Astarion sees recognition in his eyes though, and Gale’s face crumples as he dissolves into sobs.

“I- I’m sorry, I truly didn’t mean to-”

“Sh, sh, sh.” Halsin shushes, making Astarion’s mouth snap shut. It’s only as Halsin starts nuzzling against Gale’s cheek that Astarion realizes he was probably talking to the sobbing man beneath him, not the voyeuristic peeping vampire that just ruined the moment and humiliated an emotionally struggling companion. Halsin kisses Gale on his forehead, before drawing back from him, a slight whimper filtering between the moans as Halsin removes himself from inside Gale. He reaches over to grab his own clothes, and drapes them over Gale to cover his nude body. Before standing up straight and stepping over him and closer to Astarion.

Once again, just like the last time Astarion walked in on them, he can’t quite place Halsin’s expression. He’s not embarrassed or angry, definitely not aggressive, but with the way he’s standing, his cock fully in view but his whole body perfectly positioned so that Astarion can barely even see Gale’s hair… it’s more protective than anything. Like Halsin doesn’t actually mind being walked in on like this, but knows just how embarrassed and exposed Gale feels. Like all of his actions are taken just to make sure Gale is as comfortable as possible.

That only makes Astarion feel worse.
“Astarion,” Halsin starts, “I respect your own desires, but if this is going to be a regular occurrence that involves others without their knowledge we’ll have to talk about it.”

“No no no, I swear on, on uh, all of nature, that this, both, both times were complete accidents I swear.” Astarion’s quick to say, “A couple days ago, I’ll admit, I indulged in myself a bit, but I promise I was looking for food and I was just going to-”

Halsin raises his hand, telling Astarion to stop. Astarion is waiting for him to break, to lash out and be rightfully angry, Astarion can barely think about it before that burning hot fear starts searing the back of his eyes.

“I’m not angry. Just displeased,” Halsin says as if he can read Astarion’s mind, “and we will have to talk about this.” Astarion nods, “but not now.” Halsin trails off looking behind him. He pauses his lecture with Astarion to fully turn around and lean down to Gale. He puts his mouth right up against Gale’s ear and whispers something to him while running his hand through his hair and wiping away some of his tears. Without looking back up to Astarion, Halsin finishes his statement, “go, hunt not near her. We will talk about it tomorrow morning, away from the others.”

Astarion nods, turning to flee, “Don’t dwell on it Astarion, it’ll be fine,” is the last thing he hears.

Chapter Text

Oh, how the tables have turned and oh, how Astarion hates it. Peaceful trance his ass, Astarion feels like he’s laying on a bed of splinters while hiding away in his own tent, far away from the warming fire in the center of camp. Something like twenty minutes later, he couldn’t bring himself to count, he watched from the corner of his eyes as Halsin and Gale returned to camp. Halsin still has his arms wrapped around the smaller man as the two whisper to each other. Gale’s voice briefly raises, almost loud enough for Astarion to hear. It’s a very distressed noise, that’s quickly shushed by Halsin as he ushers them both to bed.

Dawn sifts through the branches and leaves of the surrounding greenery, sunlight reflects off the stone walls of the ruin they take shelter in, and people start waking up. Astarion thinks this is how Gale must’ve felt the morning after Astarion first caught him. He can’t bring himself to walk out to the morning fire in fear of running into Halsin, god forbid Gale. There’s a twisted form of jamais vu that fills his chest and pushes against his bones. He wishes he could just revel in the shame he’s caused, let it amuse him so that he could move on, but instead he lurks near the outskirts of the camp in a depressingly familiar way.

He knows he can’t hide like this forever, but he can still wish for it to last a little longer than it did.

“Astarion.” The deep grumble of Halsin’s voice doesn’t make Astarion jump. Quite the opposite, instinctively curling in on himself like a dying insect.

“Well, isn’t it surprising to see a familiar face in a place like this.” Astarion tries to counter Halsin’s authentic summon. He fails miserably of course, Halsin neither amused nor disgusted with Astarion’s lighthearted response. It’s infuriating, no, daunting. Astarion lets his eyes wander, taking a great interest in the nothingness besides him.

“I was not lying with what I said last night.” Halsin gestures for Astarion to follow, “we must speak.”

“Augh. Must we?”

“Yes.”

Astarion grimaces, it’s not easy to avoid situations when half of the participants are so blunt with their words and focused on their goals. Especially not when the other participant is an archdruid that has 150 years on him. Astarion relents, quietly, curling his fingers into a gentle fist as he follows.

He’s led away from camp, but not so far off that the others wouldn’t be able to hear a scream which is at least a little comforting. He’s never explored this area of the ruins, but he doesn’t have the time to focus on the disintegrating stonework, instead being drawn to the center of this entire debacle.

Gale looks surprisingly calm given how he’s been the last few times he’s seen Astarion. He doesn’t look like he’s about to burst into flames or tears, instead looking like the calm and collected wizard he’s known to be. There are a few gives that Astarion can see though, the heat in his face could easily be mistaken for a slight sunburn, and when Astarion finally looks into his eyes he can tell that Gale is looking somewhere else at his face, probably his forehead.

He looks antsy, and his constant glancing towards Halsin doesn’t help with that. There’s a few moments where Astarion’s worried the three of them are just going to stand there until evening before Halsin speaks.

“Astarion.”

Astarion keeps his shoulders loose as he looks towards Halsin.

“With most incidents, I would wait until the third offense before intervening, but this is no petty theft or cruel words. What you’ve been doing is-”

“Just plain rude! Cruel!” Astarion physically recoils as Gale jumps in. That calm exterior didn’t last long, now bright red. With anger or embarrassment, Astarion can’t quite tell.

“Gale-” Halsin reaches a hand out but it’s slapped away.

“Humiliating! Shameful! Ugh-” Gale runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots, “and this is probably exactly what you want to be hearing isn’t it!”

Astarion’s face quickly turns sour, “Excuse me?!”

“Here I thought, the fool that I clearly am, that you had grown as a person. And maybe you have in some way, but clearly,” Gale releases his hair and gestures to the sky, “clearly, not in every way!”

“Gale-” Astarion refuses to let Halsin finish, not when Gale is making such absurd statements.

“You’re a fool in a dozen ways, but accusing me of seeking that out? Trust me, you’re not worth the effort.”

Just by the way Gale’s eyes start to water Astarion can tell that hurt, “Oh really? I can maybe, maybe, excuse and explain away you running into us twice, but you were watching! Watching! It would have been the easiest thing in all these months to have simply walked away last night, but no no no, you needed to make sure we saw that you were watching!”

Astarion sputters trying to come up with a reasonable lie but Gale is quicker.

“That wasn’t for you! That wasn’t for anyone, that was supposed to-”

“Stop it!”

Gale’s breath hitches and Astarion’s mouth snaps shut. Halsin isn’t hiding the emotions from his face this time, clearly frustrated. He first turns to Gale and rubs his shoulder, “My heart,” Astarion feels a pang of something ugly inside of him, “calm yourself. For just a moment. Astarion,” the druid turns towards him, “now’s the time to explain yourself.”

Astarion isn’t so sure of Halsin’s words, considering Gale crosses his arms and turns away before he can even get a word out.

“I…” Astarion struggles, in a split second trying to decide if a lie would hurt less than the truth. He can feel Gale’s anxious impatience wafting off of him, but Halsin holds strong in his unwavering calm.

“I wasn’t lying. Truely, both times I ran into you were genuine, unplanned, accidents.” Astarion explains, keeping his hands close to himself, “but… you’re not entirely wrong. I did stick around and as you said… watched.”

“Fantasizing on joining in no doubt.” Gale mumbled under his breath. Halsin turns, a hint of exasperation in his eyes.

“No, no! I just, ugh,” Astarion pinches the skin between his brows. All that trust they’ve all built together, gone in an instant because of Astarion’s insatiable appetite for chaos and his unending desire for something more. He needs to think, and takes the time to do so since Halsin is physically containing Gale’s emotions by rubbing his arm and wringing their hands together.

Unfortunately, Astarion knows that the best route is to be honest. And unfortunately, honesty doesn’t get much easier, no matter how many times you do it. At least the two men in front of him know the foundation, and honesty will hopefully get him rewarded. Or more accurately, spared.

“I don’t fantasize about joining in. Far from it. After killing Cazador,” just mentioning the name has Gale and Halsin softened, “being freed from his influence, it led me to realize that I don’t want that sort of interaction, at least not for the foreseeable future. When I first saw you two, it was initially impish fascination, indulging in the taboo,” he hates how Gale shifts so uncomfortably, hates how he squirms so self-consciously compared to how he squirmed underneath Halsin, “but, I would be lying if your… chemistry, didn’t enrapture me,” he shifts his weight to one leg, resting a hand on his hip, “it felt nice. Like I was able to indulge in your intimacy without having to physically be there.”

He glances up through his eyelashes, Halsin nodding and turning to Gale who stays completely silent. Halsin waits, giving Gale room to speak if he wants, before turning back to Astarion, “It’s a comfort to know that your intent wasn’t malicious, but Gale was right, Astarion. The things you saw were things no one else was meant to see. Your interruption not only darkened the experience, but could have caused lasting harm. You were not invited to participate, and neither of us consented to you being there.”

Astarion already felt terrible, and he knew he was going to rightfully feel worse, but having his honesty returned in kind felt nauseating. He nods, unable to disagree with anything Halsin said. The two of them wait in limbo as Gale finds the words he’s looking for. As time passes, Astarion is convinced that Gale’s words are going to be something along the lines of Ignis, but instead he says something even more surprising.

“Does it help?”

Astarion tilts his head and squints, “I’m sorry?”

“Does it help? Watching us. Does it really feel like you’re being intimate in a way that you’re comfortable with?”

If Astarion kept up his honesty streak, that didn’t help him understand at all, and he doesn’t see how this relates to him intruding, “I don’t… I’m not sure that matters…”

“Says who?” Gale questions.

Astarion glances towards Halsin, hoping for a translation or something of the sort, but instead Halsin has the faintest hint of a smile.

“Astarion, listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“No- ugh.” Gale rolls his eyes, which Astarion takes as a good sign, “I, how do I say this, I wouldn’t be honest with myself,” Astarion has to stop himself from chuckling, all this honesty might end up driving him mad, “if I said I’ve never been… interested in you. It just so happens that the first time was uh, very shocking, and the second time was… already complicated.”

Astarion can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“I’m not, per say, against you, uh, viewing. My- our- Haslin and mine’s engagements. He’s been helping me, with a pretty wide variety of things actually, some of them completely separate from the things you've witnessed. And he’s been telling, or well, recommending that I find ways to be more comfortable in a more…” Gale rubs his fingers together like he’s trying to summon the words out of thin air, “a less, permeable? form? But I’m not against you watching-”

Halsin gently presses his chest against Gale’s shoulder, “You’re repeating yourself my love.”

Gale presses back, scratching his sweaty forehead, “I wouldn’t mind. You watching. Especially if it uh, helps you. In some way.” Astarion’s hearing gets hooked on those last few words before his jittery speech suddenly breaks into a flood of thought.

“I mean obviously we’ve all been traveling together for months, I mean we’ve seen all of each other’s highs and lows, or at least a lot of them, and I feel like everyone’s already gotten to a level of intimacy, not sexual intimacy, not really romantic either, but something more than just platonic, a level of intimacy that goes beyond your typical friendship, and like I said you definitely are easy on the eyes as they say, and you definitely have a way with words. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened earlier, and really I think we all just happened to be unlucky with when and where it finally happened.”

As Gale rambles on, Halsin quiets his running mouth to a lazy stroll. Astarion can feel himself relax, before being filled with his usual confidence, “So you’re willing to let this actually be a thing?” he prods.

Gale blinks, clearly not thinking of a response but simply processing Astarions words, “Yes.”

Halsin lets out a very deep, very weary sigh of relief, “At least trying it out. If it doesn’t work then we will work things out from there.” he says it with purpose, but with the way he closes his eyes Astarion can tell that he’s not worried.

All those uncomfortable feelings are now gone, and Astarion is excited and impatient to explore their new dynamic, “So, when do we start?”

Chapter Text

Turns out Halsin and Gale weren’t going at it as often as Astarion had assumed, and as much as he wanted to experience their tango properly the world doesn’t wait for his pleasure. Two weeks passed and Astarion had nearly forgotten about their agreement, the entire party spending most of their days planning with the rescued Gondians to figure out the layout of the Steel Watch Foundry, and just like every other plan they’ve ever had it broke into chaos the second they stepped in. There were too many close calls with the Motivators, and Shadowheart had nearly been crushed when they were making their escape.

After resolving the argument with that stupid deep gnome, they decided to find some backup before they confronted Gortash. Far below Wyrm’s Rock Crossing, after fighting the remaining Flaming Fist on the first floor, they made their way down into the depths of an ancient cavern. Astarion complained the entire time about the ridiculous puzzles, but could admit that watching Gale exclaim in excitement when he saw the lanceboard was entertaining, sharing a playful glance with Halsin as the silly wizard solved the puzzle with barely even a look at the board .

Nothing else was entertaining.

Astarion would like to think that they’ve faced a lot of difficult battles, that they know their way around, but Ansur was something different. Fighting an ancient dragon that was meant to be the protector of Baldur’s Gate caught everyone off guard. He doesn’t want to think about how sweaty Gale’s hands were as he held on with all his might while Gale dangled over the edge of the platform. They got too optimistic, too full of themselves, and everyone decided that a few days break would do them all well instead of trying to go head-first into Gortash.

It has, however, made Astarion realize how accustomed he’d grown to this little dance. Almost die, barely make it out, go back to camp, repeat, every night ending with him laying in his bed like he is now. Before he can dwell on it too long however, Haslin steps into his area of the Elfsong Tavern. Astarion stays relaxed on his bed, hands behind his head, legs crossed. He doesn’t have to look to know Gale isn’t on the other side of their little outlet, and Halsin doesn’t have to say anything for Astarion to kick his legs off the bed and jump to his feet.

The two of them walk out of the city in comfortable silence. He is led not quite out into the forest, just into a secluded little glade with the glow of the city perfectly in few. The two elves walk in on Gale entertaining himself with little cantrips of light, much to Astarions slight disappointment.

“So is this what you two have been doing? Ravaging each other after every near-death experience? How erotic.” Astarion tuts, leaning casually against a tree as his eyes follow Halsin. The druid starts untying his shirt, carefully weaving his fingers to prevent the strings from tugging on their seams as he walks over to the edge of the glade, “Not necessarily, we indulge when we can and when we both desire too,” he pulls his shirt over his head, “It just so happens that such things usually follow stressful times.”

Astarion looks Gale up and down, “You’re still in your robes?”

“Do you see where we are? I’m not getting my night clothes soiled like this.”

Astarion thinks he just appreciates the amount of layers his robes provide.

Gale shifts on his feet in an uncomfortable silence, crossing his arms over his chest, “So, how are we going to go about this?” It takes Astarion a good second to understand that Gale’s talking to him, “Well don’t ask me, I’m merely an observer.”

“That’s not as true as you make it seem.” Haslin chides, strolling back into view, his shirt discarded uncaringly near the edge of their outcropping, “These last few months I’ve been helping Gale with some… difficulties he’s had with physical intimacy, among other things. Our play isn’t typical of most other pairings.” Astarion catches a brief look of Gale glancing away before being drawn back to Halsin. He tries to focus on his face instead of his massive strong body, tan skin, thick chest hair leading all the way down his soft stomach till it retreats under his pants.

“I’ve almost certainly seen worse, druid.” he huffs. Halsin nods solemnly, walking closer towards Gale and gently guiding the man's arms to his sides so he can start to help him unfasten the clips of his robe, “I don’t doubt that unfortunately, but just because you’ve agreed to this doesn’t mean we are going to hold you hostage.” It doesn’t take long for Halsin to fully unclasp Gale’s royal purple robes, but he keeps them held closed.

“And I will remind you, you are a guest. You have been invited to partake, but should it prove… unpleasurable for either of us, we maintain every right to ask you to leave.”

Astarion thinks this is almost ridiculous, like they’re working out some terms and conditions as if Raphael is going to show up in the middle of everything. But warmth spreads through his chest anyways, like moths fluttering around in his ribcage, “Of course.” The explicit words, clear cut meanings, with no room for loopholes or backstabbing. No newfound guilt. Astarion’s pretty sure he knows why but still, “I imagined you being very forward with your words, Halsin, but I didn’t take you as someone who’d be so uncertain about indulging in new experiences.”

That gets a hardy laugh out of him, “Being watched is far from a new experience. Nature is all around, always. No, I don’t see myself using these boundaries, but such things need to be said for the others involved.”

Gale, still holding his robes tightly shut, scowls, “There are only three people here, ‘others involved’ can only mean one person.”

“Gale, darling, Halsin didn’t have to say a word for me to figure that out. You aren’t exactly overwhelming me with your confidence.” All Gale can do is sigh, pulling his robe tighter around himself, “Seriously though, pretend I’m not even here, I’ll just be watching with bated breath.” He presses up against the tree behind him, loosely crossing his arms.

Halsin clearly doesn’t need any more motivation, stepping into Gale’s personal space and cupping his face. Astarion pays special attention to the way Gale leans into Halsin, his eyes just barely level with Halsin’s chest. Past the initial pounce, Halsin’s movements are slow, he rubs his thumb against the scruff of Gale’s beard and leans down to press their foreheads together. He subtly twists them both so that Astarion can see their profiles, making Gale’s frequent glances towards him extremely noticeable.

Halsin rubs his cheek against the crown of Gale’s head, slowly swaying together and letting Gale acclimate to the feeling of being watched. It doesn’t take much longer before Halsin presses their lips together, tenderly kissing him as he moves his hands down to pull on the shoulder of Gale’s robes. Gale relents, letting the cloth fall into Halsin’s grasp, unveiling his off-white wrap shirt.

Halsin breaks their kiss and takes a small step back, meticulously folding the robe in a way Astarion’s never seen him do before. He covers his smile as Gale’s full attention is taken by the way Halsin is handling his clothes. Seemingly satisfied, he undoes the knots keeping his undershirt in place. Halsin takes that as well, with very little resistance from Gale and repeats the process, placing the neatly folded clothes off to the side.

Astarion has seen both of these men shirtless before, and technically has even seen them with less clothes on in a similar context, but being this close certainly gives Astarion a better perspective and he’s paying close attention. He never considered Halsin particularly well toned, at least not in comparison to the powerhouses of Karlach or Lae’zel, but his arms really are the size of tree trunks while his hairy chest and stomach look soft. His height and deep voice gives off a strong masculine aura, but it’s balanced out by his well groomed long hair and swirling tattoo, easily making him a wet dream for anyone in camp.

Gale on the other hand isn’t nearly as impressive at first glance, being one of the shorter members of their ragtag group, only being taller than Lae’zel and barely taller Shadowheart. His robes do a good job of obscuring most of his form and when he’s rid of it there isn’t much to gawk at. He’s probably the heaviest in comparison to his height, not nearly as pale as Astarion but it’s still easy to tell that he’d been living in a tower for a year. Astarion finds he’s enrapturing anyways, and by the way Haslin seems to ponder Gale, he probably thinks the same.

Gale’s real beauty, besides that ever-expansive mind of his, is in the details. Halsin returns to his position, running his hands down all of those details with a tenderness Astarion doesn’t see often. Combing his premature gray hairs out of his face, kissing the small scar on his temple, the wrinkles on his forehead, letting his fingers trace the deep purple lines of the orb as they run down his neck into the swirling circle on his chest, then going up to rub the earring between his fingers.

Astarion barely contains his shock as the earring clicks open and falls into Halsin’s palm, putting it away with just as much care as all the other clothing. Astarion tries to think back, tries to remember if Gale had ever been wearing the symbol of Mystra when he’d caught them but his mind turns up blank. Now that he notices it, Gale looks a bit odd, uneven.

Halsin leans into Gale’s ear and whispers something that makes Gale’s breath hitch. Astarion checks himself, he’s allowed to be here, so pushes off of the tree and moves in closer to pick up the last few words Halsin says, “Do you want that tonight?”

Astarion’s movement draws Gale’s attention for a second, and before Gale can even think about looking at Astarion again, Halsin bumps their noses together, “Don’t worry about him love, answer me.” Gale nods but Halsin waits for something else as they sway, “Uh, yeah. We haven’t done it in a while and I-” Halsin encourages him with a kiss when he hesitates, “I think that would be a good… a more comfortable place to start”.

Halsin peppers his nose and temple with affection, “Good job.” He kicks off his shoes, turns them both so his back is facing the one man audience and swiftly pulls down his pants, flashing Astarion with his lack of underwear. Astarion just needs a quick recovery with a shake of his head before looking back. Halsin’s backside is nice, and his thighs look even stronger than his arms. The width of his shoulders block everything from Astarion’s view, but between his legs he can see Gale kick off his shoes and lift one foot up, fingers grabbing onto Halsin as Gale hops a few times, puts his foot down and lifts the other up.

Astarion’s perplexed, unable to see anything as Halsin folds Gale’s pants and gently tosses them onto the neatly folded pile of clothes, covering Mystra’s symbol. Halsin’s hands shift and grip what can only be Gale’s underwear, crouching to pull down the last remaining garment, his head perfectly blocking Gale’s crotch. It’s as he and Gale make unplanned eye contact that Astarion realizes that Halsin is still very much taking Astarion’s enjoyment into consideration.

Astarion watches with glee as Gale’s cheeks dust pink The tantalizing view of Gale’s happy trail, the sides of his bare pudgy hips keeping Astarion on the edge of his seat. If he just leaned one way or the other he could probably catch a glimpse of Gale’s cock. Instead, for now, he exaggerates his gaze by moving his head up and down where he looks, putting in no effort to hide his ogling.

Gale takes a deep breath. “Scared?” Astarion smirks.
“Nervous.” Gale replies, his voice just barely shaking.

“Mm, we simply can’t have that.” Halsin rumbles, throwing Gale’s underwear as he pushes himself up on his knees, letting his hands stretch all the way up Gale’s torso before wrapping around and trailing down his back.

Gale shivers and Astarion prowls closer, watching the hair on Gale’s arms raise and his nipples start to harden. Gale keeps splitting his attention between Halsin between his legs and Astarion walking closer, shaking as Astarion starts slowly moving clockwise like dripping molasses. Astarion does his best to keep his eyes burrowing into Gale’s head, but after only two steps he can see the prize out of the bottom of his vision.

With a languid look down he can see Gale’s cock, still mostly soft, for a brief second before Gale shifts his thigh.

“Tsk, aw.” Astarion mock complains, looking back at Gale who’s now looking at neither of the elves.

“Don’t worry my heart, there’s no need to be ashamed. He’s already seen you.” Halsin comforts, running his hands on Gale’s ass.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” Gale mumbles.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, despite the full frontal I got the first night I wasn’t paying much attention to your package.”

“That definitely doesn’t make me feel better.”

Halsin sighs, pressing his forehead into Gale’s stomach. He grips Gale’s hips hard enough that Astarion can see Gale’s skin turn white, and pulls the man down onto his knees with him. Halsin’s taller than him again, pushing against Gale’s shoulder, “Then let me make you feel better, if he says anything too harsh then I shall chase him away myself.”

That in and of itself is almost enough temptation for Astarion to make a quip, but Gale’s slow descent onto his back keeps his lips shut for a while longer. Standing over both of them he can see pretty much everything, and as Halsin spreads Gale’s legs everything else is revealed. Gale’s cock follows the trend with the rest of his body, shorter than most Astarion has seen and not girthy enough to make up for it. Even as it slowly hardens under Halsin’s minstration’s it’s underwhelming, basically completely hidden by Halsin’s large hand. Astarion runs his tongue along his fangs, he can hear it, ”Not a grower or a shower now are you?” resting in his throat, but the way Gale keeps trying to close his thighs, the way his shoulders hunch up to meet his ears as his face turns an even deeper shade of red pushes the comment down.

He meets Gale’s gaze, the tension in his shoulders visibly draining away when he realizes Astarion isn’t going to tease him.

Then, Halsin reaches between his own legs and sits up to his full height, his cock looking even more impressive than Astarion remembers. Veiny and heavy, pulling back his foreskin to reveal his fat bulbous tip. As the druid presses his hips forward slightly, the two cocks brush together. Both men moan lightly, but Astarion’s enraptured by the way they fit together so neatly. The thick curve of Halsin’s perfectly dwarfing Gale.

Halsin’s quick to move down, pushing Gale’s ankles away just a bit further for his shoulders to comfortably fit between his legs. Halsin plays with him for a few more seconds, pulling down his foreskin and running his thumb over Gale’s slit, drawing out a curt moan. He brings his lips up and kisses the precum off, licking his lips before swallowing Gale whole.

Even with Gale’s shorter stature, Astarion’s eagerly impressed as Halsin sinks down till his nose is pressing into Gale’s pubes. Gale lets out a choked moan, hands snapping to Halsin’s scalp, his fingers threading their way through his hair.

Astarion can see Halsin’s tongue work through his cheek, can see how the man swallows around Gale’s cock like it’s water as he bobs his head up and down. Gale’s breath picks up a few notches and lays down fully flat, his hair splayed in the grass. Astarion strides a few more steps around so that he’s standing only a foot behind Gale.

Gale’s eyes are closed but his mouth is open as he greedily takes in breaths, his chest rising and falling with as much vigor as Halsin’s currently giving him. Astarion crouches down, drinking in every twitch of Gale’s muscles, the way the wrinkles on his face deepen as he lets out a loud drawn out moan.

“Look at you, such a pretty thing.” Astarion whispers under his breath. Gale’s eyes crack open, blurry and unfocused. He closes his mouth to swallow, his breathing through his nose loud and unbecoming of his status.

“Ngh- gah-” Gale moans through his swallow, warm brown eyes not leaving Astarion’s. His body twitches and jerks, but his eyes stay locked on Astarion, unblinking. His hazy vision seems to concentrate on Astarion’s features, and as Astarion tilts his head Gale’s eyes dart around as if he’s trying to take in every detail. Astarion smiles, purposefully baring his fangs to put them on display while keeping his gaze soft. Gale’s eyebrows pinch together and his body jolts despite Halsin’s consistent rhythm. There’s a tsunami of thoughts crashing around in that head of his, Astarion just knows it.

A wet pop lures Astarion’s interest away from Gale, instead being greeted by Halsin’s pleased smirk as he kisses down Gale’s length. He mouths at Gale’s hairy balls, blinking slowly as he nuzzles the taut skin. Licking a stripe back up to Gale’s tip, Halsin splays his hand on Gale’s squishy pecs, rolling his erect nipples between his fingers as he sinks his mouth back down.

Gale arches his back with a loud whine, hips jerking up into Halsin’s mouth as he closes his eyes again, “H-hah-” he sighs, “Halsin- I- ah!”

Astarion’s glad he shut his eyes, leaving him free to raise his eyebrows without fear of spooking Gale. Already? He looks back down at Halsin, who has a certain glint shining in his pupils. Astarion gets the message loud and clear, ”Shut it.”, and instead watches with fascination.

Gale presses his head against the dirt, his body curling in on itself, and digs his fingernails into Halsin’s scalp as he lets out a series of short, almost panicked, gasps before stiffening. Gale holds his breath, and for a few seconds Astarion’s worried he’s stopped breathing all together, but Halsin continues a slow calm pace, his hand caressing Gale’s supple hips. And after what was probably no more than two minutes of Halsin’s mouth, Gale lets out all of his breath in one go, his body relaxing completely as he fights to return oxygen to his brain.

Halsin pulls away, swallowing all Gale released and wiping his mouth and keeps running his hands down Gale’s sides, “Good job, you did so well for me.” Halsin coos, looming over Gale’s spent body and kissing trails of affection along his unscared collarbone. Astarion leeches some of that warmth too, thriving off of the way Halsin tenderly caresses Gale’s cheek, waiting patiently for the poor man to regain some semblance of himself. Halsin shifts a bit, his cock still rock hard, a throbbing red.

Halsin catches Astarion’s gaze, “My pleasure is secondary to his tonight, and he’s already spent enough.” Astarion simply shrugs, pretending as if that wasn’t the question on his mind.

“That was… more enjoyable than I thought it would be.” Astarion says quietly, unable to take his eyes away from the movement of Halsin’s hands, “I’m assuming I wasn’t too much of a bother.”

Halsin shakes his head, “No, no, not at all. That went exactly as I was expecting.”

“Oh really?” Halsin scowls at Astarion’s words, “Don’t make me regret-”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything of the sort. Clearly there’s a lot more I have left to learn about how this wizard of ours ticks.” Astarion says, rolling his wrist, “that is, assuming I’ll be allowed another showing?”

“As I currently stand, yes, though I’ll speak with Gale privately about his wants when he’s more, ah, lucid.”

Astarion nods, his mind wandering to the way Gale was looking at him, the reaction he had with every movement Astarion made. It makes the fuzzy feeling in his chest turn to kindling as it blazes inside of him.

He looks down at Gale who’s still letting out little whimpers every time Halsin’s hand brushes too close to his cock. Astarion can’t help himself, but keeps his voice low as he speaks up towards Halsin, “How lucky was I? Seems like the window for you being walked in on is rather slim.”

Halsin sighs, everyone around him constantly testing his patience, “It varies. And as I mentioned, I’ve been helping Gale readjust to the more physical pleasures.”

“No kidding.”

“But-” Halsin growls, a non-threatening tone, as if scolding Astarion instead of warning him, “growth is rarely ever linear, as I know you are aware of.” Damnit, Astarion can’t respond to that.

“Your being here, knowingly, was a unique situation. Given time, maybe you’ll be able to see all he has to offer, and perhaps all he can receive.”

And just like, Astarion’s now looking forward to their next near-death experience.

Chapter Text

Astarion tries not to gag as he descends the ladder, the acidity of the sewers burning his nostrils and throat every time he tries to breathe, “Gods, must we really come down here?” He hacks a few times, stepping off of the ladder so that Gale can follow suit.

“What, the smell of the sewers too much for your prim and proper nose?” Karlach teases, “and here I thought you were a man of refined tastes.”

Astarion scrunches his nose, feeling justified in his reaction as Gale mimics his expression, “Humans don’t have as keen a sense of smell as elves, much less vampires, and I still dread the stench. Smells too familiar to that goblin camp.”

“Chk, quit your whining. We must find this ‘thieves guild’, and they must be somewhere in these sewers.” Lae’zel says as she jumps down the last few rungs, “the sooner we accomplish our mission the sooner we may return. Your complaints do nothing but annoy me.”

Astarion has to hold back the urge to roll his eyes, grumbling under his breath as they search the small alcove, “Alright, but can’t that wait one more night, I’m exhausted.” He walks over to a stack of traveler’s chests, immediately unclasping them and rifling through their contents.

“No.”

Karlach does her own sweep of the room, letting her hands run over the blades and training dummy, “I know that hoard of rats was a tough fight Astarion, but hold out a little longer, ay?”

“I think he’s referring to the hostile githyanki we just fought.” Gale drones, fully enraptured by the diagrams of mindflayers and scrawled notes on a corkboard.

Karlach snickers to herself before going to open the door, “Hm, maybe you’re in luck Astarion, think this isn’t helping with the smell.”

Astarion and Lae’zel walk up behind her, revealing a swirling cesspool of sickly green gas completely covering the floor of the next room. The acrid smell starts burning Astarion’s eyes, “We could always just go back up and find a different way down,” he coughs.

“Hm, perhaps. Yet we’ll still have to find our way through here one way or another, eventually.” Lae’zel steps in front of Karlach to get a better look at the gas.

“Down there,” Gale says, suddenly appearing behind the three of them pointing down into the gas, “there’s a lever. My bets are this is just another trap set by our mindflayer, and that’s probably the control.”

Without missing a beat, Lae’zel takes a deep breath as she takes a few steps back before launching herself across the room, pulling the lever down as soon as her feet land. A few seconds later the gas dissipates, taking the worst of the smell with it and allowing the rest of them to walk down to her.

Gale points again to a hole in the wall above them, “suspiciously well lit torches for a sewer.” Looking around, Astarion jumps onto a wooden platform nearby, “Suspicious indeed, there’s cargo through there.”

Gale jumps as high as he can, the tip of his fingers a good few inches away from reaching the ledge. He huffs, looking up at Astarion for more information, “Oh, no way either of us are making this jump.” Astarion says, already taking off his pack to find a potion. Gale lets out a sad sigh as he begins to cast Misty Step.

Karlach swats at his hand, “Hey! What’s that for?”

“Don’t bother wizard man, Lae’zel and I can get up there just fine. Won't go far, and we’ll call if we need you.”

“And if the guild is up there? Just let you two handle diplomacy?”

“Yup.” She grins as she easily clears the jump.

Lae’zel follows just as easily, turning around, “Don’t go wandering off.”

“That’s literally what you-” Lae’zel doesn’t bother to hear Gale out, her and Karlach making their way further into the sewers.

Astarion stays still for a few seconds, hand deep in his pack as he watches them move out of his line of sight. He waits a few seconds more before he repacks his bag, settling on the edge of the wooden platform and looking down at Gale. They hover in silence for a few minutes, Gale standing the entire time with his eyes on where the two women left.

“Sooo-” Astarion drawls.

“Absolutely not.”

Astarion scoffs, “What! I didn’t even finish.” He purrs, emphasizing the double meaning.

He takes some joy out of watching Gale’s head sink down, the man turning around to look up at Astarion, “I am not going to be talking about that night to any degree whilst we marinate in the sewers.” Astarion nods along.

“Mhm, perhaps, but at least now we have some time to ourselves. If Halsin and I keep sneaking you away, the others are going to start putting two and two together.”

Gale frowns but his eyes stay strong in his conviction, “Bold of you to say. Only reason you found out was because you just so happened to catch us in the act.”

“So this little… relationship of yours isn’t new.” Astarion already knew this, not only based on the dynamic the two of them held in the Iron Throne, but also extrapolating from the conversation he had with Halsin that night.

Gale doesn’t look very impressed with his detective skills, “Why yes. Halsin and I started our engagements not long after we entered Rivington.”

“Before, or after the whole clown fiasco?”

“Before.”

Astarion hides his smile behind his palm, it’ll never cease to amuse him how easy it is to get Gale to talk about his interests, no matter how adamant he tries to say otherwise. “So, Shadowheart wasn’t lying when she said that you got Halsin to do that druid-Orin love trial. I didn’t believe her, and Wyll refused to confirm or deny what he had seen.”

Gale blushes as he breaks eye contact, “Why must you interrogate me like this? If you want answers you can ask Halsin.”

“Why must you avoid talking about it? Besides, even if I do talk to Halsin I’ll barely get half of the story with how much he respects your privacy, that’s no fun.” Astarion kicks his feet through the air, keeping his voice smooth. He leaves Gale to think for a bit, practically able to see the cogs turning in his head, before adding on, “and from what he told me, the two of you had a debrief after our little tryst, all I got from Halsin was that you wanted to continue. I was thinking maybe a more… direct line of communication would help sate my curiosity.”

Gale seems bewildered, “What could you possibly be curious about?”

Astarion stops swinging his legs, “You’re kidding, right?”

Gale shakes his head a little, his face stuck in naive confusion. He hops off his ledge so he can be on a more level playing field, “If I may be so bold, I’d say we’ve cultivated a rather nice, ah, dynamic, between the two of us over the last few months, but this?” Astarion says pointing between the two of them, stepping ever closer, “This is new. I’ve been invited to participate yet left in the dark. I’ve seen much yet know so little.”

Astarion can tell how hard Gale is thinking by the way he’s looking at Astarion, as if he’s see-through. Eventually his eyes focus, his brows still drawn together, “Speak plainly.”

Astarion groans with frustration, “Gale, I’ve been extremely patient given that I’m me. Halsin’s too protective of you to share anything actually useful. I want to properly establish this new dynamic between us, without Halsin.”

There it is, that spark of recognition that spreads like wildfire through Gale’s eyes, “Oh- I-” Astarion basks in the way Gale tries to speak through his scrambled thoughts.

“Of course, only if you’re willing. I understand if I’m more of a… pleasant decoration.”

“Wh- I, I?” Gale presses his hands to his chest, “I- what about, about Halsin?”

Bemused, Astarion half-shrugs, “You’re really going to tell me that Halsin of all people would have a problem with that?”

Gale flounders for a few more seconds, “What about you?” He says pointing a hand towards Astarion.

“You can just say no, darling.” Astarion says with an amused huff.

“No, no, I- I remember you specifically saying that you, ‘don’t want that sort of interaction’, I remember very well!”

“Gods no! I’m not saying let me pin you to the floor and rut into you for an hour-” Gale lets out a sort of gurgled squeak at Astarion’s words, “I’m saying that you could fill me in on what I’ve missed with a bit more of a sultry atmosphere.”

The two of them stand in tense silence, the rank smell of the sewers continuing to slowly seep in their clothes.

“Darling, if you’re that worried about my feelings, don’t be. I’ve had 200 years of figuring out what I don’t like, and this entire journey to figure out what I do. And if it really worries you that much, we can ask Halsin.”

Gale mulls it over a bit, “I understand what you mean. I do want to ask Halsin first though.”

Astarion nods, “Of course, of course. So, how about tonight?”

Gale opens his mouth but is swiftly interrupted, “Tonight what?” Karlach lands next to the both of them, a puff of ill dust rising in the air under her boots.

Astarion jumps with an exclamation, but Gale’s quick to respond, “Pay a few extra gold for a proper bath.” He lets out a cough for dramatics as he waves his hand through the dust, “I feel worse now than when I was being dragged out of the Iron Throne.”

Lae’zel joins them, ignoring Karlach and Gale’s conversation, “your intuition was well placed Gale. The guild was up there.”

Instantly, Gale launches into a barrage of questions that Astarion promptly tunes out. His mind is focused elsewhere as they make their way back to the surface.

-----------

“What made you think I would be against such a thing?”

Astarion has to turn around and shove his face into his hands to keep from laughing too loudly.

“I- well- I didn’t think you’d necessarily be against it, but I just wanted to check!” Gale laments. His hair is still damp from the intense bathing he and the rest of the recon party did as soon as they got back to the tavern. Gale and Astarion are currently dropping in on Halsin’s own, much more leisurely, bath so that Gale can make himself feel better about Astarion’s pursuit.

Halsin wipes at his eyes while letting out a long, deep sigh, “Like I have said dozens of times, you are free to roam, I am not going to put restrictions on who you want to engage with. And, Astarion has already partaken in such activities, there’s no reason to come and tell me something I already know.”

Gale fusses, crossing his arms and leaning forward slightly, “Well, it makes me feel more comfortable.”

Halsin raises his hands in defeat, “Alright, alright. You make a fair point, now go. Enjoy yourselves before I’m tempted to join you.”

“Yes, let's go… where are we going?”

Astarion grabs Gale by the wrist and starts leading him out of the room, “Just follow me, darling.” Astarion leads them both out to Rivington, walking through the bustling nightlife until the walk up to an upsettingly familiar building.

“Sharess' Caress, really? I was ready to complain about being in the forest again but I don’t think this is much better. I hope you weren’t planning to get those drow twins involved.”

Astarion shoots him a quick glare before leading them both upstairs and into yet another familiar room.

“Ah, a room where we watched that poor woman go through ceremorphosis, much better.”

“Quit complaining, would you rather I have reserved Elminster’s Library?”

Gale grimaces, “Sorry, just a bit nervous.”

“No worries, darling.” Astarion pulls Gale right up against him, their eyes only barely not level due to Astarion's extra inch of height. With a grin, Astarion strolls up to the bed, turning around and flops back on the giant king mattress in one smooth motion. He scoots himself up till he’s comfortably leaning back against the headrest. He rests his cheek in one hand, reaching out his other to beckon Gale towards him with nothing more than the bend of his finger.

He can see Gale start to flush, reaching for the hem of his shirt and starting to pull it up, “Ah ah ah, clothes stay on dear.”

Gale’s confusion is clear, but he walks up and kneels down on the bed, still a good foot away from Astarion.
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Astarion starts, rubbing one of his thighs, “You’re going to do exactly what I say, when I say it, and nothing more. Understand?”

Gale worries his bottom lip, nodding. He shifts a bit on his knees, readjusting his pants. Astarion gives him a big grin, already enjoying himself. He sits up slightly, gently grabbing Gale’s wrists and urging him to waddle closer to Astarion, leading him so that Astarion’s thigh is between Gale’s legs.

“It’s simple really, I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to answer them honestly.” He lifts up his knee, pressing into Gale’s clothed groin and grinding against the half-hard bulge already there, “and while you do that, you’re going to stay right where you are, humping my leg.”

Gale tries to swallow down his moan, looking up at Astarion, “I-I’m still clothed.”

Astarion smirks, pushing harder against him, “Did I tell you to take them off?” Gale shakes his head, his hips pressing down to meet Astarion’s thigh, “Then they stay on don’t they?”

Gale curls his fists into the bedsheets, hesitantly grinding a bit, “I understand.”

Gale keeps his eyes closed as he ruts, keeping himself propped up on both his arms. Astarion waits patiently as Gale sets his own pace, it’s slow, and sloppy in Astarion’s opinion with the amount of readjusting Gale does, but Astarion can feel Gale’s small cock hardening through his clothes till he can distinctly make out the feeling of Gale’s tip rubbing up against him.

Astarion pretends to think, making a loud hum while he taps his chin with a finger, “Hm, where to start?” Astarion says to himself, “how about this, Halsin’s constantly been mentioning how he’s helping ‘reintroduce you’ to pleasure. What’s that mean?”

Gale’s eyes crack open, his pupils blown wide, “I- ah, I…” he drifts off, clearly struggling to think through his simmering pleasure, “I h-hadn’t ah, been with anyone like this since- ngh- since I was with Mystra.”

“And how long was that?”

“Nearly f-fifteen years.”

His response genuinely surprises Astarion, a bit put off by what the math of that would equate to, but he pushes it aside for now, “Is it always Halsin on top of you?”

He loves the way Gale’s menstruations stutter, burying his face down into Astarion’s shoulder not quite quick enough to hide the frown of shame, “Y-yes.” His words are muffled through Astarion’s blouse.

“Now why is that?” Astarion teases, grabbing Gale’s shoulder and making him stop his stimulation. Gale keeps his face pressed into Astarion’s shoulder and stays completely silent as his hips jerk down into thin air. Astarion reaches his hand down between them both, cupping the tent between Gale’s legs, “Is it cause of this?” he purrs, “don’t think this can satisfy him?”

Gale lets out a sharp whine, rocking his hips into Astarion’s hand, “Small enough to fit in his hand, does that embarrass you?” He can feel Gale nod into his shoulder, but that’s not enough. He reaches down a bit further to where he can feel Gale’s balls and gives it a tight squeeze, “Is that it?”

“Yes!” Gale cries, twisting under Astarion’s hold.

“There we go.” Astarion gives it a few more pets before urging Gale back on his thigh, “good boy.”

Gale lets out a high pitched moan, ever so slowly sinking his body weight down on Astarion, “You like that too don’t you? Look at you, my complicated little wizard, drooling over me humiliating you but practically begging for compliments.”

Astarion runs his hands through Gale’s hair, letting his nails lightly scratch Gale’s scalp while the man slowly drives himself close and closer to the edge. Gale’s sweating bullets, his elbows shake under the remaining weight they’re holding up, “Why do you like me watching?” Astarion’s careful with his tone. He knows, not only from the way Gale’s breath is getting faster and his humping more desperate, but also from now having watched him, that Gale’s getting close, and that whatever answer he gets is going to be nearly incoherent, but true.

Gale looks directly into his eyes, the warmth of them completely consuming Astarion’s vision, “-so pretty. s’smart, funny.” Gale gasps as his hips instinctively buck a bit too hard, “comfortable- ahh!”

That damn fuzzy feeling is coming back, spreading out from where Gale’s face is pressed into his chest and slowly overtaking his whole body, “Yes, but why are you satisfied with me just watching?” he asks, a bit too desperately, “Why aren’t you demanding more?”

“cause, you- ahh ngh! you, what you said.”

The feeling of Gale’s cock fucking against his thigh contrasted with the warmth his words cause Astarion to feel a kind of pleasure he can’t remember experiencing, “What if Halsin were here right now? What would you want from him?” he whispers, trying to center himself again, trying to distract himself from the way he’s feeling.

“Ah- haah, fuck, ah” Gale’s chest fully lays against Astarion’s making his shirt ride up a bit with every thrust, his soft belly rubbing against Astarion’s clothes and his eyes closed again, “I- I’m, gonna-” That makes Astarion’s mind snap back, “No you don’t, you’re not going to cum until you answer my question.”

Gale whimpers and moans, Astarion carding his fingers through Gale’s hair, gently tugging on it, “Halsin may let you cum whenever you want, but I’m not him. Answer the question, what do you want Halsin to do to you?”

Tears start forming in the corner of Gale’s eyes, “I- I, I want his cock, wan’ him b-behind me.”

“Keep going…”

“Aah, want- want him pushing me ‘nto the ground.” Astarion grins, running his thumb along Gale’s cheek, wiping away his sweat, “want him to- to…” Gale trails off, too out of breath to keep speaking.

“You want him to fill you up?” Gale lets out a whorish whine, pressing his nose into the crook of Astarion’s neck, “Pump you full of his seed like you’re some animal to be bred? I bet you’d like that, and knowing you, you’d’ve already cum before he even got the chance to put his cock in you. You’d be crying under him, that tiny cock of yours unable to even get hard after how many times you’d cum.”

Gale wraps his arms around Astarion as best he can, “P-please, Asta- Astarion, please.”

Astarion gives himself a few seconds to respond, before swirling Gale’s hair around his finger, “alright darling, go ahead.”

The second Astarion finishes speaking, Gale arches his back, digging his nails into the back of Astarion’s shirt as he lets out a desperate cry. His legs clamp around Astarion’s thigh, humping against it a few more times before stiffening. Astarion calmly watches, keeping his hands on Gale as he starts to feel a wetness seep into the thigh of his pants.

Astarion lets him lay there for a few minutes, taking a few notes out of Halsin’s book, kissing the top of Gale’s head and whispering sweet phrases of affection. Eventually Gale clumsily gets himself back up on his hands and pushes away, trying to cover the large wet patch on his crotch.

“Did you enjoy it?” Astarion asks, give Gale some grace by pretending not to notice the mess he made.

Gale nods, looking back at Astarion, “Did you get answers to all your questions.”

“Enough of them.” He muses, already concocting another plan.

Chapter Text

The refreshing spray of salt water across Astarion’s face feels like little drops of rejuvenation on his skin. The smell of the sea clearing his sinuses, and the gentle breeze keeping him cool while the sun heats up his armor. He leans against the railing of the waterfront gazebo, settling against the sturdy wood while he grows accustomed to the soft humming of the city behind him. The sound of boots hitting the decking growing closer encourages him to flip over, letting his elbows rest on the railing.

“Your help was appreciated” Halsin’s sarcasm is dulled by the kind smile he has, walking the rest of the way up to Astarion and setting down the sack of fresh fish they were tasked with getting.

“Well, why offer my help when you’re just so strong and capable.” Astarion jests, glancing into the bag. As unappealing as they look in there, Astarion can already smell the stew Gale could cook up with them.

When he looks back to Haslin, the man has his eyes closed with one hand laid on the railing, the loose strands of his hair flittering in the wind. Astarion can feel his impatience starting to rise up his chest, the two of them haven’t been able to speak properly alone for nearly a week, not with their party starting to make their way through the sewers so vigorously. If Astarion’s going then Halsin’s staying behind and vice versa, it wasn’t until today when everyone agreed to do more surface work and refresh on supplies that Astarion’s been able to scrounge the druid away by himself.

That’s the only reason he even agreed to come down to the docks, usually the noise of poor hagglers and the smell of rotting fish gives him a headache, especially with the corpses of Sahuagin still lying around, but out on this little gazebo it’s pleasant. It’s also, in Astarion’s opinion, the perfect place to have the sort of conversation he’s been waiting to have. He wants to talk about Gale, about the night they had, to gossip and scheme with the excluded third member about what to do next, but he refuses to speak first. He can’t come off as too desperate…

But either Halsin knows what game he’s playing or the bastard’s simply indulging in the ‘wonders of nature’ too long for Astarion’s liking, “Aren’t you going to ask?”

Halsin’s eyes slowly open, looking down at Astarion with a smirk, “About what?”

“About what happened last week!” Astarion sighs, kicking off of the railing so he can properly cross his arms at Halsin.

“It’s not my place to ask, simply my place to listen if either of you wished to share.”

Astarion rubs his temple with his palms, “Gods, no wonder Gale’s so attracted to you.”
Seeing as Halsin’s oh so accommodating to Astarion’s wants and needs he takes his time to formulate a more concise speech, “I have a few… ideas, scenarios if you will, on what we should do with our wizard the next time we get the chance.”

Halsin nods along as Astarion starts to stride back and forth along the wooden paneling, “I was thinking that next time we should really… push the limits, see how far he can go.” Astarion accentuates his words with fluid rolling of his wrists and lazy gestures, “maybe not break him per say, but getting close to it. Humiliate him, make him squirm, that sort of thing”

Haslin hums, looking a bit miffed, “I’m not sure that’s the brightest idea given his… history.”

“More like lack thereof. But, I’m not saying I doubt your skills, I’m sure you’ve managed to satisfy him in more ways than one, but maybe just a little something more can help him… open up more.”

He didn’t mean to start pushing buttons, but Halsin’s got more sway in the dynamic than he does, if he can’t get Halsin to concede then Astarion’s fantasy is going to stay exactly that, a fantasy.

Halsin’s expression changes to something that’s one more comment away from being a glare, “What possessed you to recommend such things? I’m not opposed to incorporating your desires but to such an extreme?”

Astarion picks dirt out of his nails, allowing his devious smile crawl up his face as he slinks towards Halsin, stopping when they’re nearly touching each other. He stands as tall as he can, letting the tone of his voice make up for the drastic height difference between him, “It’s not just my desire, darling. He told me himself, while he was rutting on my thigh like a dog.” He can hear Halsin’s breath catch, “Or well, at least that’s what I was able to make out of it. Kind of hard to tell when he could barely finish a sentence without moaning.”

The eye contact between them is thick enough to cut with a dagger, and even if Halsin’s words say otherwise, his dilated pupils and warm breath betray his true feelings. But Halsin’s no spring chicken, and a little teasing won’t be enough to stagger him.

“While a pleasing image, words said during the crux of one’s pleasure don’t often align with their best interest, I’m hesitant to act on the wants of a man whose mind may be muddled by desperation.”

Astarion’s top lip twitches with irritation, a very, very good point, but not something he can’t work around. He breaks their little staring contest, taking a few steps back with his palms forward, “Fair, but I’m not proposing you completely change course, or telling you to surprise him with it. I’m saying just this once, maybe just as a… special treat.” He says, pinching his fingers together, “And not just for him. Don’t tell me you’re not interested- don’t think I’ve forgotten what you two were doing the first time I saw you. Pounding into him, refusing to let him touch himself. That, but on an even grander scale.”

Silence hangs between the two of them, Astarion waiting to see the results of the dice he’s cast. Halsin hangs his head and lets out a hearty chuckle, making Astarion uneasy. He can’t tell if this is a sign that he’s won or a sign that he should evacuate the premises, that is until Halsin meets his gaze again, a playful light in his eyes.

“You, my friend, have one of the sharpest silver tongues I have ever seen.”

Astarion manages to keep down his sigh of relief, giving Halsin a little bow, dipping his leg and flaring out his arm for extra effect, “It’s definitely one of my finer aspects.” He’s now two for two, and as proud as he is, Astarion quietly hopes that he won’t be needing his silver tongue again for a while.

Halsin picks up the bag of camp supplies and slings it over his shoulder, “Well, we best be going then, wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”

The two of them trudge their way back up the streets all the way back to Elfsong, a low buzz of excitement dancing between them. Their timing is impeccable, walking up to the doors to their room just as the others arrive. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll are all covered in blood, not surprising, but Gale for some peculiar reason is covered in a dark purple, almost black, liquid.

“Why are you covered in ink?” All four sets of eyes turn to Astarion and Halsin.

“Wow, what a wonderful question Astarion. You’ll have to ask Shadowheart, since she was the one who had the intellectual genius to assault a magical, very pompous, printing press whilst I was in the middle of trying to convince it not to spread some of the most egregious, half-witted, scandalous propaganda I have ever read.”

Astarion doesn’t even have the energy to be surprised, not even able to fathom the context, staring blankly at Gale who’s trying to kill Shadowheart with his eyes.

“You’ve had a tendency to talk to inanimate objects, how was I supposed to know this one was sentiate?” Shadowheart refutes.

“That doesn’t explain why you felt a celestial calling to hit it with your mace!”

The two of them continue bickering, and with the way Wyll sighs Astarion can imagine they’ve been doing this the entire way back, “We got a tip that Gortash was putting in order to print an article to slander our names and turn the city against us. Those in charge were not keen to listen to us when we asked politely, so.” Wyll gestures down to his bloodsoaked armor.

“Well, at least I’m happy to report that our mission was successful,” Halsin says, shrugging off the pack of supplies.

Gale looks down at the bag with a sad disdain, a look that none of the others miss. Wyll rubs his shoulder sympathetically, “Don’t worry about it Gale, I’ll cook tonight.”

Astarion and Halsin share a knowing glance. Gale nods in thanks, wiping his hands on his robes, smearing more ink on them. “Gale, you might want to take a more… thorough bath.” Astarion lightly suggests much to Gale’s distaste. He hands his quarterstaff to Karlach and shuffles past them, heading back down stairs to the private bathing rooms, Astarion right on his heels with Halsin following soon after he gives the pack of ingredients to Wyll.

The door clicks closed behind them, Astarion double-checks that he’s locked it, as he and Halsin stand by one another, silently observing Gale as he whispers a cantrip to heat the bathwater. He strips his outer layer, carefully folding them all, and making a pleased grunt when he sees that most of the ink was contained to his robes, and the ink hadn’t seeped down into his undershirt.

“Gods, you two should have seen it, it was ridiculous. To start, I think blowing up that damned foundry was probably the best thing we’ve ever done, the mechanical remains of the Steel Watch haunted that whole building, even the basement! Luckily the rest of the staff weren’t very robust in their defenses, but by the stars the press! I’ve gone this whole time, ever since we’ve found out about Gortash and his schemes, that although a very evil man in every sense of the word, that he was at least a man of above average intelligence.”

Astarion’s worried he’s developing wrinkles listening to all of this. He looks to Halsin, just to make sure he’s not going insane, and Halsin smiles down at him. He lets out a quick exhale, leaning forward a bit as he starts closing the distance between himself and Gale, “Gale.”

“But the press! I’ve seen freshly-initiated students write better opinion pieces than that! I’m amazed he approved such a thing!” He dips his arms into the water, scrubbing off the ink with relative ease, doing the same to his face before turning his head down to let his hair soak, “Gale.” Halsin calls again.

With the way Halsin is calling Gale’s name, it’s like he already knows there’s no point but does it anyway just in case. Astarion watches intently, being hit with the realization that this is the first time he’s witnessing the true… courting process? He’s always either walked in mid-way or interacted with Gale when sex had already been on his mind. He’s never had to do it so candidly.

“It’s honestly a shame we had to do anything, I can’t believe the public would believe such slop. If people just put a miniscule amount of thought into what they read, I wouldn’t have even had to bother, and then I wouldn’t have gotten absolutely drenched in-”

Gale stands up straight and turns around in one swift movement, letting out a yelp as he comes nose to nose with Halsin, “Gale.”

His gaze darts between Halsin and Astarion, having to harshly blink away the dribbles of water that run from his hair to his eyes, “Yes?” His ears start to turn pink, picking up on the heavy weight of lust in the room, the mere hint of it enough to stumble him up.

Halsin brings his hand up to push back Gale’s hair, wringing some water out, “We desire you.”

Gale nods a bit too fast, “Yes, yes, I mean, today has been… incredibly frustrating, the whole printing press thing wasn’t even the worst of it, we-”

“Astarion wants to try something new.”

Gale leans to the side a bit, staring wide-eyed at him. Astarion hisses through his teeth, sure it was his idea, but Halsin didn’t have to shovel all the responsibility over to him, “I wouldn’t exactly describe it as new, I was just thinking we could explore that scenario we discussed when you were,” Astarion tastefully trails off, running his hand along his thigh.

“Oh.” Gale says dumbly, looking back up at Halsin with a mix of anticipation and embarrassment, “D-did he tell you…?”

“No details, but enough to imagine.” Halsin runs his fingers down the well done knots of Gale’s undershirt, pressing his nose into Gale’s wet hair, “Do you want that?”

“Here?!” Gale’s outburst makes Astarion grimace, the heated atmosphere shattered, “The others are right above us!”

Frustration burns in Astarion’s chest like coal, “You think too much.”

Gale glowers at Astarion, “I think just enough, thank you. The tavern isn’t very busy tonight, there’s a high likelihood they’ll hear us. On top of that, they think I’m bathing and are preparing dinner for us, if we take too long-”

Astarion’s already nocked a perfect argument, but strangely, Halsin beats him to it.

“Gale, my love, that’s the point.”

Clearly whatever Gale was expecting them to say, it wasn’t that, “What?”

Something about the way Halsin moves changes, every shift of his muscles controlled, gliding over Gale’s arms and waist with a hyper-focused care. His voice changes too, not getting quieter but dissolving into a comforting rumble. Something about it itches in the back of Astarion’s mind, but he can’t put a finger on it.

“It’s okay if they hear, the others ‘finding out’ will change nothing about us,” he runs his hands through Gale’s wet hair, pushing it behind his ears, “It’s frightening, I understand, but what Astarion says is true. You’ve made great progress with enjoying the pleasures your body can give you, but every time is still a battle with yourself. There’s no need to be so concerned about appearances or circumstances. It’s okay to enjoy this.”

Astarion’s missing a piece of this puzzle, and it’s driving him mad.

“It’s okay to want this.”

Just like that it clicks. Astarion might not have the full picture, but whatever Halsin is doing right now us uncannily similar to the second night he walked in on them, the night right after Gale had communed with Mystra.

He wants to slink away, slide out the door and retreat back upstairs with the rest of their party, but then he catches Gale’s gaze. Hesitation and desperation fighting over each other to no avail, it reminds Astarion of himself when he first realized he was free of Cazador’s thrall. The all consuming need to indulge in the newfound freedom, but the looming fear of punishment hanging over every decision.

So he doesn’t run, stepping towards Gale and reaching his hand out to caress his face, running his thumb over Gale’s beard. It’s not even about the exchange, not even about the fact that Gale was right there the whole time as Astarion freed himself from Cazador’s claws, it’s just about Gale.

Gale leans into Astarion’s palm, slipping his hand into Halsin’s. His eyes flicker between the two of them, “I want this.”

Chapter Text

Astarion’s ecstatic they were able to work through that no matter how painful it might have been, because gods, is it already proving to be worth it. Gale’s almost nude, the only bit of clothing remaining being his underwear, his undershirt and pants being carelessly tossed aside. Despite the lackluster structure of the bathing room, the towels are a fine quality, meaning after tossing them all on the floor, Halsin doesn’t have to worry about Gale’s creaky knees for now. And Halsin, the freak that he is, has maneuvered Gale into a kneeling position right in front of the bench that Astarion’s made himself comfortable on.

Astarion spreads his legs to let Gale fit between them, running his hands down the hairy arms and tugging them into his desired position, guiding Gale’s hands to his thigh and waist. The look in his eye is something more than lust, but Astarion doesn’t get much time to take it in. Halsin is kneeling down behind Gale, and when he runs his hands down Gale’s chest and presses into his groin, Gale closes his eyes with a deep sigh and rests his cheek on Astarion’s leg.

Instead Astarion looks at Halsin, the way his hands are groping Gale, “Tonight, my heart, I will leave you wanting nothing.”

He tugs Gale’s underwear down below his ass, his flaccid cock flopping out. Halsin reaches down, wrapping his calloused hand around it and starts with lazy strokes. Astarion will never be able to get enough of it, Haslin barely has to move his wrist to go up and down Gale’s entire length, drawing back his foreskin and easily able to rub the pad of his thumb on the slit.

“You’re so lucky you found a man like Halsin to take care of you,” Astarion draws out, rubbing the toe of his boot along the inside of Gale’s thigh, “I can’t imagine you’d be able to accomplish much with such a little thing.” Gale lets out a small whine, his cock swelling up as best it can.

Halsin stops jerking him off and reaches for the large bottle of massage oil, pouring and rubbing the liquid on his hands before applying some directly to Gale. He runs his hands along the expanse, spreading the oil and giving Gale’s skin a nice shine before dipping between his ass cheeks.

“Relax for me love.” He says as he gently pushes past the tight ring of muscle. Gale’s hands clench on Astarion’s clothes but he manages to keep his breathing even. Halsin takes his time stretching Gale out, the three of them floating in a trance as he adds a second, then a third finger.
Gale managed to keep himself calm, staying relaxed with rather even and consistent breathing, until Halsin readjusts his angle. The elf sits up higher on his knees, looming over Gale’s back, and curls his wrist up.

“Aah! H-Halsin-”

“There we go.” Astarion coos, petting Gale’s hair to keep it out of his face.

Halsin isn’t thrusting his fingers, in fact from what Astarion can see he’s barely moving them at all, just rubbing and pushing on Gale’s prostate in a consistent rhythm. He keeps his free hand firmly planted on Gale’s waist, his fingers pressing hard enough to turn Gale’s skin white. Halsin keeps this up for minutes, he and Astarion watching as Gale gets more and more distraught.

“W-what, why-”

Astarion cups Gale’s face as he struggles to speak, “What’s that? Our well-spoken wizard can’t even finish his sentence?” Astarion smirks, moving his hands down from Gale’s cheeks to his throat, feeling as he swallows and whimpers, “You have to speak clearly, darling.”

“I-I’m ready, please. This is, it feels strange. I want- I want your cock.” His larynx subtly vibrates against Astarion’s palms.

Halsin presses a kiss on the back of Gale’s neck, his lips just barely brushing up against the tip of Astarion’s fingers, “You hunger for it because you know it will make you cum,” Gale nods along, trying to push himself down on Halsin but being restrained by his grip, “If we are going please you as much as we want to, you will need to last long.”

Astarion lets out a playfully cruel chuckle, bringing his hands back up to Gale’s face, urging him to open his eyes with a gentle brush of his thumb over the lines of the orb, “Something you are not well known for.” Gale looks up at him pleadingly, begging for answers, his hands releasing Astarion’s clothes to grip onto the edge of the bench. Astarion can’t even help him if he wanted to, not that he would, because he has no idea what Halsin could possibly be doing.

Halsin hums, pressing his nose into the crook of Gale’s neck, “Tell me how you feel, love.”

The man starts squirming, his gaze focusing and unfocusing on Astarion, “I- I feel, I don’t know, eh- ngh, it- it feels good, I feel good, so good, but-” Astarion is so hooked on every word, enthralled by the way Halsin’s barely moving yet making Gale unravel, that he almost misses the way Gale’s jaw clenches.

“There we go, my heart, come here.” Halsin shifts his hand at Gale’s hip to wrap around his chest and pulls him to sit up straight in his lap, removing him from Astarion’s grasp but giving him a perfect snapshot of Gale’s body. The way his shoulders and biceps tense, the soft, hairy expanse of his belly tightening, teeth clenching. Whatever hits Gale, it hits him hard.

His moans are more exhale than voice, and as he lets out one last cry his whole body quivers. At first, Astarion thinks he cums, but the way the substance dribbles off of his cock and runs down his length reminds Astarion more of water than semen. Gale is still tense, shaking in whatever pleasure Halsin’s brought upon him even after he’s removed his fingers.

“Good job, good, let yourself bask in this feeling for a moment longer. Let this pleasure ease your anguish.”

Halsin seems to not only be speaking to Gale. The serene cadence of his words, the way Gale is so open and vulnerable, it draws Astarion in. Leaning forward, feeling Gale’s harsh breath disrupt some of his curls, he reaches out a hand to tenderly take hold of Gale’s cock. Like pushing a button, Gale’s mouth falls open with a gasp while Astarion takes his time to fondle the appendage.

It seems so natural in Astarion’s hand that it takes him a moment to realize this is the first time in months he’s touched anyone other than himself like this. Seeing his fingers wrap around Gale’s length doesn’t make him feel like bile is bubbling up his throat or like he’s just swallowed a stone. Burning hot in his cold undead hands, an almost silky texture, and much to Astarions deep seated amusement, only an inch or so bigger than his hand.

“So much smaller up close.” He can’t resist saying, causing Gale to mewl, press his shaking thighs together around Astarion’s hand.

More impressive though, was how hard he still was. Astarion drags his finger along the underside of Gale’s cock to gather some of the release on his finger, reveling in the way his hips buck. On closer inspection, the liquid is in fact not cum, this Astarion is certain. Thin, with a milky, almost translucent coloring.

“A fancy trick, druid.” Astarion dreamily comments, returning his hand to Gale’s cock to dance his nails up and down the length, playing him like an instrument, “I’m impressed, and that’s very hard to do.”

It takes physical effort for Astarion to tear his gaze away from Gale, “Vigor and passion are effective and enjoyable, but, taking your time and focusing your efforts onto one point can lead to a more… controlled experience. Unwinds him before the main event.” Halsin rumbles, pressing his mouth to Gale’s ear while his eyes linger on Astarion’s hand. His own breath is heavy with desire, “You did such a good job, but now it’s time for me to indulge.”

With a rush of excitement Astarion stands up off the bench, standing taller than the two kneeling. He posts himself so that his clothed groin is level with Gale’s head, getting a perfect view between the two of them. Halsin strips himself completely bare, his cock pulsing with restrained arousal, the slightest tilt to the left with a very prominent vein accentuating the top.

Halsin wastes no time, already coating his cock in oil and positioning his bulbous tip at Gale’s well-stretched entrance. He digs his fingers into Gale’s plush hips, before pushing in. Astarion doesn’t miss the hint of a snarl from Halsin as Gale’s hole stretches around him.

“A-ah, ah, so, so much!” Gale keens, his body pushing back on Halsin’s cock on its own accord, his hands grasping for purchase on the nearest surface being Astarion’s hips.

Halsin bares his teeth, slowly sinking deeper until his stomach presses against Gale’s ass. There’s a few seconds of silence before Halsin yanks Gale down, nearly taking Astarion with them, pulling them both back so that Gale’s chest is pressed against the towels on the floor and his arms are outstretched in front of him.

“H-Halsin!”

Gale lets out a loud yelp, biting the back of his hand as Halsin starts to relentlessly pound into him, delving into the velvety warmth. Halsin moves with a controlled but untethered rhythm, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.

“Oh, how I’ve longed to have you like this.” His growls through gritted teeth, “I just needed the proper motivation.” He says, his searing gaze focusing on Astarion for a split second.

Astarion’s quick to join them on the floor, grabbing Gale’s wrist and pulling his hand out of his mouth, “No you don’t.” He bites, “You’re going to show us just how much you love his cock, just like you wanted.”

“I-I-”

Halsin moves his hand from Gale’s back to either side of his torso, allowing him to put more speed and force behind each thrust as he drives into Gale’s ass. Gale tries desperately to swallow his own moans, shoving his face into the towels underneath him until Astarion grabs his hair and tilts it back up. A thin line of drool running down his beard, the feeling of Halsin’s cock filling him to the brim.

“Can’t, I’m- I’m gonna, ah- n-”

Astarion’s too enticed by what’s to come to even try and stop Gale, the man already teetering on the edge from the earlier play, every nerve of his set alight. It almost looks like Gale’s gagging on his own tongue with the way he contorts under Halsin’s assault. His lips draw back in an almost pained grimace, rapid hisses of breath being ripped out of his throat right until the point of no return.

The way his shoulders draw back on themselves, his thighs tremblings as they try to keep themselves up, his cock pulsing as he unloads his spend all over the towels underneath him, the remaining thick drops of cum seeping out of his cock as it continues to bounce with each thrust Halsin makes.

None of that compares to the wail that tears itself from his throat, his attempts to dampen it only making it louder and sharper when it finally escapes, releasing a flood of whorish moans and cries while Halsin starts to focus on his own pleasure. ‘Music to his ears’ doesn’t even begin to describe it, it’s a sound Astarion wishes he could draw out from Gale any time he pleases. Each octave feels like hot iron warming Astarion’s blood.

Halsin hunches over him, pressing his teeth on the back of Gale’s neck, “Such a sweet song you sing for us.” His hands scratch down Gale’s sides, thin red lines of irritation being left in their wake. He keeps shifting on his knees, like he’s trying to get his cock even deeper into Gale’s ass.

Astarion’s lips feel chapped, licking them as he reaches down underneath Gale to press gently on his stomach. It draws out another loud squeal, but Astarion almost doesn’t hear it as all his senses hyperfocus on the feeling of Halsin’s cock through Gale’s full stomach.

“You can take him.” Astarion whispers, “I know you can.”

Luckily for Gale, it doesn’t take much longer before Halsin’s hips stutter, rutting into Gale a few more times before burying himself as deep as he can and coating his insides with his cum. Halsin paws at Gale’s shoulder, trying to draw him up again, and once Astarion notices he helps, reaching his hands under Gale’s chest and hoisting him up in Halsin’s lap, his cock still buried deep. Gale’s eyes are half-lidded, his pupils nearly taking up the entirety of his brown eyes before lazily closing them again.

Gale’s cock is limp between his legs, and also covered in a thin layer of his own seed, having been smeared across his shaft and thighs. Astarion grasps at it again, filled with a sudden and burning determination.

“Come on.” He whispers again, loving the way Gale’s voice cracks and overwhelmed tears form on the lids of his closed eyes.

“Too, aahh too much.” He slurs, hands moving lazily, batting at Astarion’s arm with no force.

Halsin gives a gentle roll of his hips, “Just once more my love, you’re doing so well.”

Astarion can feel Gale’s heartbeat through his cock, feeling the way it twitches in a desperate attempt to get hard again. He rubs his thumb on the wet slit, coating his own hand with Gale’s cum, “Come on.”

With a pathetic gasp, Gale’s body shivers one more time, his cock letting out a pitiful dribble of cum as his hips jerk. The feeling, the sight, the smell, everything, it all makes Astarion feel so… good. Despite the cock in his hands being completely limp, barely able to pump out the last remainder of its load, Astarion still pets and tugs.

Gale’s demeanor shifts from one of extreme pleasure, to one of overwhelming overstimulation, “Ah- ah, ow, ow! Ngh- S-stah…” He squirms and recoils, only further impaling himself on Halsin’s cock which causes a dry sob to wrack his chest.

Halsin reaches out to grab Astarion’s wrist, just as Astarion is about to release Gale himself, but the two of them are stunned by the sudden glow of light.

“St-ah, stop, ow, out, please, ou- ngh!” The lines of Gale’s orb start to emanate a dull purple light.

The realization is instantaneous, the both of them move with a speed that’s only rivaled by them in battle, Astarion withdrawing his hands completely and Halsin pulling out.

“Gale, shit, are you okay?” Astarion simply doesn’t know what else to say, not sure about what to do if Gale starts to literally combust in front of them. He’s about to bolt towards the door, ready to tear the place apart to find a magical item, privacy be damned. That is until Gale waves half-heartedly at them, easing their nerves slightly.

Halsin keeps his eyes on Gale, watching as the already dim light starts to fade, tapping Astarion with one hand, “Go get a warm wet towel.”

Not willing to argue, Astarion quickly complies, running over to the bathing basin that’s luckily still lukewarm from Gale’s earlier cantrip, and soaks a washcloth in it, running back and handing it to Halsin.

Halsin washes Gale with great care, wiping away some sweat, and both his and Halsin’s cum from between his legs. Astarion keeps close by, watching from over Halsin’s shoulder, a silent agreement forming between the two to not talk about what just happened until Gale’s able to explain.

“S’good.” Gale suddenly mumbles, “Tired.”

That thankfully breaks the tension, letting the good emotions flood back into the room and making Astarion chuckle, “I don’t think you’ll want to go upstairs for a while. Or outside this room for that matter.”

“We shall recover here for a while, and return back to our room when the others are asleep.”

Halsin’s recommendation falls on deaf ears, as Gale’s breath evens out and the soft sound of his snoring fills their hearts.

Chapter Text

Given the general infrequency of visitors at the Elfsong Tavern, probably due to the murder that happened upstairs only a few weeks ago, Astarion and Halsin take the risk of keeping the bathhouse door locked for the night instead of trying to maneuver Gale back upstairs to bed.

The two elves move in silence, weary from the intense intercourse that ended in a borderline bomb threat. They wash Gale first, cleaning the slew of mess off of his body with Halsin going so far as to comb his hair. Puttering around a bit longer, trying to get Gale as comfortable as possible with a bedding of towels, they both settle down on either side of him to prepare for their trances.

Astarion feels a bit bad. He may have pushed boundaries a little too far but neither of his playmates seemed too upset, and really, what fun is there if he doesn’t at least try to overstep. It was riveting, Gale was riveting, so was Halsin. Even after a fair amount of time Astarion still feels the buzz under his skin, a tingle in his jaw. There’s definitely room for improvement, but things also could’ve gone much worse.

“Has that happened before?” Astarion doesn’t bother to whisper, Gale’s soft snores signaling that he’s long gone, but speaks lowly so as to not shatter the calm mood that’s settled into the room.

“No.”

Astarion glances over, just barely able to see Halsin’s eyes over Gale. He’s looking straight up at the ceiling, brows furrowed deep in thought.

“It doesn’t usually glow like that, before we picked you up from that goblin camp I had only seen it happen when he consumed our magical artifacts.” Astarion leads.

Halsin lets out a hum, “Yes, he’s told me of that ritual.”

“That…” Astarion genuinely struggles to recall the name of the man he’s thinking of, “that wizard that showed up again not too long ago. I thought he had done some magic spell to give Gale control over it.”

“Elminster, yes.” Halsin drawls, “He did, and from my understanding it’s true.” A small smirk appears on Halsin’s face, “We must’ve caused him to lose some of that control.”

Astarion snorts, looking up at the wooden plank ceiling before closing his eyes, “Imagine that, Gale losing control.” He bites his tongue, feeling a taunt just begging to be said. He can feel himself fail to hold back a smile, “Maybe that has something to do with his… endurance.”

The sudden burn of Halsin’s gaze smolders on the side of his head, but Astarion stays strong, letting out a deep sigh as he tries to drift into his trance. The comfort he feels is almost eerie. Gale and Halsin’s breaths mirror each other, even though they’re barely touching, Gale’s body heat is like a warm hearth on a winter’s night. Astarion considers not resting, just laying there with his eyes closed fully present in the moment, but exhaustion soon gets the better of him.

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

As Astarion comes to, the first thing he notices is the warmth of the sun on his face. He lets his eyes crack open, squinting at the window that’s letting the light shine on him. It used to scare him, waking up to the sun was like waking up from a nightmare, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore. It’s become something he actually looks forward to in the mornings.

When he glances away from the window he’s greeted with a less warm, although no less bright, image. Gale’s dressed back up in his full regalia, the endless layers of his royal purple wizarding robes fully wrapped around him, as are his arms, crossed over his chest. He’s got one mighty scowl on his face, though with just a bit of insight Astarion gets the feeling Gale’s frustration isn’t actually directed towards him.

“You know, if being sore is going to make you this grumpy maybe we should add a healing potion to our list of bedroom essentials,” Astarion mumbles, taking one deep breath to shoo off the remnants of his trance as he pushes himself up onto his feet and walks towards Gale, “or maybe make Halsin perform a lesser restoration ritual before we put you to bed.”

Gale’s smile and chuckle of tolerant amusement confirm Astarion’s suspicion that whatever’s bothering Gale doesn’t have anything to do with him or last night, “Lesser Restoration isn’t a ritual, it’s an abjuration spell.”

“My sincerest apologies.” Astarion mocks, doing a dramatic bow.

Rolling his eyes just as dramatically, Gale gives Astarion a small shove then reaches down to tug on his blouse, “You have no more than ten minutes to get dressed, we’ve a lot of work to do. Frankly, I think yesterday’s events prove that Gortash needs to be dealt with sooner than later.”

“Oh really? I wasn’t aware that getting fu-”

Gale cuts him off with a pointed finger, “Don’t get smart with me now. I wasn’t referring to last night’s events, I was talking about the problem we had with the printing press! Come on, follow me.” He says waving Astarion along through the first floor of the tavern, “I think we’ve already been pushing our luck. Destroying the Iron Throne, Steel Watch Foundry, then leveling most of Wyrm's Rock. We’ve been playing with fire for a while, I’m concerned it will catch up to us soon.”

The heavy sound of the tavern’s front doors swinging open with early morning clients echo behind them as they both trot their way up the stairs, wooden planks creaking with every step. Astarion can’t find the energy to hide his frown, it seems like they’re back to business. He shouldn’t be as disappointed as he is, Gale and Halsin have been doing this sexual whiplash for over a month, but for a brief moment he felt almost normal, not a thought of the tadpoles, or the Netherstones, or the countless enemies they’ve made.

But good things never last, as Astarion is all too familiar with.

Heading through the door to the bedrooms they walk straight into a group meeting. Everyone’s gathered in the center, fully prepared and notably anxious. A quick scan of the room has Astarion settling on Halsin, feigning calmness as he leans up against one of the wooden pillars, his Moonbasking Armor already equipped. Once Astarion puts his armor on he finds himself naturally settling next to the druid.

Debates ensue but it doesn’t take long for their party to all agree, they’ve waited long enough and waiting any longer could prove fatal, Gortash needs to be dealt with and he needs to be dealt with now. Karlach is practically foaming at the mouth and Astarion can’t blame her. He knows exactly what she’s feeling, the all-consuming rage, the need to feel the blood of a man you hate on your hands. Luckily, though Astarion would like to think obviously, Gale is understanding and doesn’t need any convincing to let her join the assault party.

With every new prediction and strategy made Astarion can sense Halsin grow more tense. Talks of worse case scenarios, plans and backup plans, Gale is fully enraptured by the conversation at hand. Astarion does his best to pay attention, since from what everyone is saying it seems like he’ll be brought along, but the more Gale speaks the more Astarion gets just as tense as Halsin.

“Gortash will be a formidable opponent, just as if not more difficult than the dragon we faced,” Halsin rumbles, taking a few steps to the center of the circle, “we barely survived such an encounter. I don’t doubt Karlach’s strength, but I won’t underestimate Gortash’s. The party will need more power.” Astarion is quick to agree, nodding along to Halsin’s words.

Gale’s warm brown eyes give Halsin his full attention. His gaze doesn’t quite soften, but seems to convey a hidden message, one Astarion shockingly finds himself able to read.

Please don’t.

“I appreciate your willingness, Halsin, but Gortash is just as smart as he is strong. We may have taken away the advantage of his Steel Watch but we’re still undoubtedly walking into a trap.” Gale turns away, curling his fists into tight balls, “Wyll has both offensive capabilities and the best knowledge of how to navigate Wyrm’s Crossing, which could be what we need to even the playing field.”

Wyll jumps in before Halsin gets the chance to fight against that, “I remember a hidden passage that could probably get us to the top. And that snake of a man has probably littered the entire place with traps and hell forsaken gadgets, if he has I’ll be able to spot them.”

Gale turns back to look at Halsin pleadingly and the wood elf relents, taking steps back to his original position. The rest of the conversation is brief and then the group splits, Shadowheart starting to cast various buffs on those who are going.

Astarion knows why Halsin is worried, he has a knot forming in his stomach that he suspects mirrors the other man’s, “Don’t get yourself so worked up,” he tries to say cheekily despite the knot in his stomach tightening, “I’ll be sure our little wizard gets home safe and sound.” He hesitates for a second, placing a comforting hand on Halsin’s shoulder before making his way towards Shadowheart.

Gale, Wyll, Karlach, and Astarion make their way through the still bustling streets of Baldur’s Gate towards Wyrm’s Crossing, sun now bright in the sky directly above their heads, the soothing morning long gone. With the first floor completely wiped out from their hunt for Ansur the empty stone walls of the pylon echo every footstep they make. The four of them move quickly and quietly, locating the backdoor entrance Wyll mentioned and climbing their way up the wall of Gortash’s dwelling.

Astarion’s already sinking heart drops even lower as he picks open the lock to the main hall. He can smell the acidity in the air, the thick stench of Bane’s chosen blanketing them as he cracks open the door. When he opens it fully Karlach and Wyll sneak in, and despite every instinct telling him to just leave it, Astarion grabs Gale’s forearm before he can follow the others, “Are you sure about this?” He whispers.

All he gets in return is an irritatingly calm smile as Gale tugs himself free and sneaks in. Astarion follows suit quickly shutting off every aspect of himself besides the one that needs to fight. There were traps everywhere as Wyll had suspected, they disarm as many of them as they can.

Astarion stops dead in his tracks when he instinctively looks down the hall, a subconscious attempt to familiarize himself with the dangerous environment. Over a long dining table strewn with papers he sees the sharp geometrical collar of Gortash’s robes and his jet black hair with his hands calmly clasped behind his back. The Chosen is standing almost completely still, staring at a statue at the end of the room.

The fear that freezes him mingles with frustration. They’ve handled worse, Astarion has handled worse damnit! They’ve blown up buildings, killed dragons, bested the Absolute’s unkillable war general and have only gotten stronger since. Cazador’s been dead nearly as soon as they stepped foot into the city, yet here, staring down a long corridor at the god of tyranny’s prophet makes him doubt. Why is he so nervous, what is he afraid of losing in this fight?

Gale shimmies up next to him, looking down the same corridor but with a lot less terror, before looking over to Astarion. Karlach and Wyll joining just make Gale’s stoicism more evident. Wyll keeps shifting which knee he’s putting his weight on, and Karlach is shaking, mostly with anger but clearly also with fear.

Gale bites his lip, not one of his anxious habits but one of his thinking ones, “He already knows we’re here.”

“Then let me take his head off already,” Karlach hisses back.

Gale shakes his head, then moves to stand. The creak in his knees is so comedic it almost makes Astarion forget what they’re walking into, “He wasn’t lying or deceiving us when he said he wanted us to join sides against Orin, she’s still out there and just as dangerous. If we don’t have the tactical advantage we should at least try to get information out of him.”

Karlach bears her teeth, but then from down the hall a different voice calls out.

“Oh right you are.” All four heads snap down the corridor, Astarion, Karlach, and Wyll all jumping to stand. Gortash is facing them, a relaxed smirk on his face as he starts walking towards the party, “Although, any information I can give you will be pointless, none of you will live long enough to put it to use.” He says matter of factly.

The stench in the air intensifies, it’s not the smell of rotting death Astarion has become so accustomed to but of ash and oil, the smell of cities burning to the ground. Gortash smoothly hops onto the dining table, kicking piles of maps and notes onto the floor. As he stalks closer, a few of his followers fall in behind him.

“It’s a shame really, I think we would’ve made a good team, but even my benevolence has its limits. Taking advantage of my generosity by destroying my Iron Throne and decommissioning my Steel Watch was ten steps too far.” He steps off the table, his eyes glowing a sickly yellow when his foot makes contact with the floor, “But if I can offer you just a bit of praise, you’re right to be worried about Orin. I tried getting you to kill her for a reason, though even she might’ve been more than you could handle.”

“Stop spewing your bullshit, Gortash. We’re not fucking stupid enough to believe a word you say!” Karlach screams, flames licking up her hair and hands.

Gortash keeps walking, until he’s only a few meters away from them. He gives Karlach an unimpressed glance, “You were once, though given how you’ve turned out it was probably for the best that I handed you over to Zariel.”

The clicking of Karlach’s infernal engine is loud enough that Astarion can hear it from where he waits. Gale stands as tall as he can, stepping in front of Karlach, “What makes Orin so dangerous?” Astarion grits his teeth, keeping himself from dragging Gale back behind everyone.

A hideous laugh cracks out of Gortash’s mouth, his eyes crinkle as he raises a gloved finger, the golden claw glinting in the light of the braziers around them. He waggles it a bit, “I know you’re not that stupid. You’ve seen it first hand, first at that horrendous circus, then at the blacksmiths, then the faux journalist.” He waves his hand around almost erratically before his face twists in disgust.

“With all the faces she wears, what’s stopping her from wearing yours?”

Astarion’s heart is beating too fast to give a shit about Orin, who in case Gale has forgotten, isn’t standing right in front of them. Karlach seems to agree, “Gale-” Before she can finish her sentence Gale makes a sudden shift in his stance that the other three are intimately familiar with.

“Incendē”

The blinding brightness of Sunbeam splits the room, engulfing Gortash and half of his troupe, all the papers on the table behind him sizzling away. Astarion takes the split second Gale has given him to jump into action, barely registering Karlach and Wyll doing the same.

The battle is nothing like what Kethric was. Even when Astarion watched the avatar of Myrkul crawl up from the depth of the brine pool, he felt some sense of safety knowing they had the Nightsong in their corner. Here it’s just the four of them, and the giant halls of Wyrm’s Rock suddenly seem tiny as they watch Gortash nearly triple in size.

As soon as Astarion feels like they’re making real progress, a hand as black as night forms right above Wyll’s head and only a few seconds later curls before slamming down. The explosion that follows makes Astarion’s teeth ache. Wyll doesn’t move, he hears Karlach scream. They keep fighting, over and over, hit after hit, they keep fighting. There’s a moment when Astarion sees a window in the fight, Wyll laying on the floor, blood pooling around his head.

He tries to make his way towards his companion, clawing at a healing potion as fast as he can, but he falls short. For a second Astarion thinks he tripped, at least the way his knees and palms crack into the stone floor lead him to believe so. Then he feels it. A chain is wrapped so tight around his soul, pulling down on him so hard his mind goes completely blank.

His attempt to push himself onto his feet only gets the tip of his nails to chip. The chain constricts impossibly further, his vision is swamped in hazy black smoke, his breath isn’t his own, his heartbeat is stolen, everything in his body feels like it’s being pulled taut until it finally snaps. The pain is so intense Astarion can barely comprehend it, he hears the sound of his bones cracking almost as much as he feels it.

The last thing he feels is the chain around him disappearing, then everything goes dark.

Chapter Text

“Hang on, dearest, I'm here for you.”

The voice soothes the pounding headache radiating down from the crown of Astarion’s skull. He lurches up, eyes snapping open as air painfully fills his lungs. A warm tingle washes over his skin, the familiar and appreciated feeling of a healing spell being cast.

Astarion closes his eyes to rub at them. Despite the aid, his back aches nearly as much as his head, every joint throbbing as he tries and fails to push himself to his feet, “Shit.” A comforting hand rubs his shoulder and when Astarion looks up he’s face to face with Gale. The man’s eyes are hazy, he’s covered in blood and what looks like soot, but he’s alive.

“I’m taking it we won?” Astarion coughs out.

Gale’s brows furrow but a small smile graces his lips, “I’ll say we’ve won if you can manage to stand on both your feet without toppling over. Here, take my hand.” Gripping onto Astarion firmly he tries to pull them both up.

After a bit of stumbling they steady. Being upright exacerbates the discomfort in Astarion’s body, the ghost of chains still weighing him down. Without thinking much about it he goes to lean on Gale who responds by wrapping his arms around him. They stand there slowly melting against one another, Gale’s breath is uneven, his erratic heartbeat just audible through wizard robes.

Astarion’s enveloped in a warmth unfamiliar to him, blooming through his body where Gale grips his armor, it’s like a balm to his skin, “Thank you.”

Right as Gale starts to respond the sharp ring of telepathy envelops them. Astarion’s already bad headache doubles as the Emperor infiltrates their thoughts, making them separate from each other to push fingers against their temples.

The stone, retrieve it. Now.

The two of them share a quick frustrated glare. Gale gives Astarion a quick once over then drags his feet down the hall. Astarion leans over a bit to catch a glimpse at the corpse. Gortash’s head looks like it’s hanging on by a thread, a giant messy cleave splitting open most of his torso, blood still pouring out lazily while Gale combs over his body.

He starts to hobble his way over, catching up to Gale right as he stands, the deep purple glow or Gortash’s Netherstone in his hand. Standing in tense silence just staring at the stone, neither move.

“Well. Two down, one to go.”

Gale doesn’t seem very amused by the pathetic attempt at humor, running his finger along the uneven surface of the stone. Pocketing it, he rummages around a bit more until he pulls out a necklace, stringing it around his neck and gripping the pendant. He hovers his hand over what remains of Gortash.

“Cum Mortuus in Lingua Mortua”

“You really think you can get anything out of that? His head is barely attached.”

To Astarion’s surprise Gortash’s body gets enveloped in a pale green light, lifting off the ground with glowing eyes and an open mouth.

“Where does Orin hide?” Gale says loudly and clearly. There’s a pause, and then no response.

He rubs his fingers together, “What is Orin’s weakness?”

Again, nothing. Astarion glances between Gale and the floating corpse, massaging his shoulder as he watches the cogs in Gale’s head turn.

“What is your name?”

That makes Astarion cock his head. He’s no necromancy expert, but even he knows you can only ask five questions. Yet even then, as the seconds pass there is no response. With a wave of his hand Gale dismisses the spell, relinquishing the last two questions and letting Gortash’s body thud back onto the ground.

“What was that?”

Gale doesn’t take his eyes off the eviscerated body at his feet, “He isn’t just dead. He’s gone, completely and in every sense of the phrase.” He rubs his forehead some more, “If I had to hypothesis, I would say that Bane claimed him the moment he passed.”

“Good riddance.”

Heat slams against Astarion’s back, the temperature of the entire room suddenly spiking. He and Gale whip around in unison, panic flooding their senses. They can’t afford another fight in this condition. Instead they seem to catch the tail end of… an argument? Astarion isn’t exactly sure, but given the way fire is wrapping around Karlach and her muffled yells from the other room she’s clearly not happy.

Gale is hesitant in his steps, as if they’ve been tied together, looking between the scene in front of them and Astarion’s hunched over form. “Go, go, no need to worry about me,” Astarion waves, “A few more minutes, I’ll be chasing right after you.”

As his partner hurries off Astarion goes through the well trained motions of post-combat maintenance. Picking over each corpse with a keen eye, digging through drawers and chests, picking every lock in sight, all while trying to ignore the aches in his body and the blood slowly dribbling down his side. Trying to ignore the warmth he felt in Gale’s arms.

“Karlach’s gone.”

Astarion looks up from the pile of books he was riffling through, Gale’s dreary demeanor navigating his way through the remainders of the battlefield.

“Well, not gone, Wyll’s staying with her. She’s just, she just needs some time away,” Gale explains before Astarion can ask.

“Who can blame her?” Astarion says quietly, “Sometimes finally obtaining what you hunger for the most doesn’t feel as freeing as you’d hoped. I… I understand.”

The solumness that’s filled the air only grows heavier as Gale frowns, “She didn’t get what she wanted. She wants to live. Killing Gortash didn’t change that.”

It’s frustrating how much Astarion notices about Gale now. At the start he thought the wizard was an open book, but the reveal of the orb quickly changed that perspective. Now within the last few weeks he’s been getting better and better at noticing when Gale’s words have meaning beyond what he says, such as now, where Gale’s eyes soften and his face relaxes as if he’s accepted some horrible truth.

“Let us return to the tavern, your injuries still need tending to and I’m fresh out of healing potions and scrolls.” Gale chimes, gently nudging Astarion towards the exit and letting him set the pace as they make their way out.

When they leave the lifeless structure of Wyrm’s Crossing the sun is starting to dip below the Chionthar. The streets aren’t empty, but they’re nowhere near as bustling as they were on the way over. They walk in a comfortable silence, helping each other down flights of stairs and over uneven cobblestone. When the lights of the Elfsong come into view the lumbering form of Halsin waiting outside is the first thing that they see.

The moment they meet eyes Halsin rushes over, “You’re both alive! Rumors were already beginning to spread of Gortash’s peril but I couldn’t be certain.” Halsin runs his hands along Gale’s arms, smearing some of the thick soot on his robes, then cradles his face gently in his hands.

“Alive, but not well it seems.” He chides, turning to Astarion who’s quick to notice a pause, not of hesitation but of permission. With a small nod Halsin ghosts his hands down the bloody armor, drawing out a quick hiss from Astarion as he scans for the source of the pain.

“Where are Wyll and-”

“They’re fine. I don’t think they’ll be coming back tonight, they need some time alone.” Gale supplies.

“That’s good to hear I suppose. Let’s get the two of you inside.”

Halsin grips firmly onto Astarion’s least sore shoulder, half-carrying him inside while Gale trails after them. The damn noise of the Elfsong makes his ears ring, the reverberations of patrons slamming drinks together, shouting over one another, and the harsh whistle of a flute piercing through the air. He closes his eyes hoping it might somehow help.

“Come now, just a bit more.” Halsin grumbles, practically dragging him up the stairs and through the doors to their room. Feeling safe enough to open his eyes again he lets out a groan when he sees Lae’zel and Shadowheart practically run and jump over to them.

“You’ve returned! Is everyone alright?” Shadowheart thankfully keeps her voice soft.

Lae’zel does not, “Where is the rest of your party?”

“From what I understand, yes, no one is in grave danger. Karlach and Wyll are alright, they’ll be making their way back later.” Halsin answers, letting Astarion go and ushering him towards his bed.

“Has Gortash been slain?” Lae’zel moves towards Gale, before being stopped as Halsin puts a hand on the breastplate of her armor, “Yes, but they’re both injured and need rest. We will convene tomorrow morning once everyone has returned.”

“Then, I trust you to handle this,” Shadowheart sighs, “I won’t be of much use given how much I did this morning in preparation. Come Lae’zel, let's leave Halsin to his work and celebrate as best we can downstairs.”

Lae’zel gives a curt chuff before both women take their leave. Gale starts to head straight for the alcove containing his and Astarion’s bed, already shedding off smaller aspects of his battlewear like rings and necklaces.

Astarion does the same, Halsin right on his heels, the throbbing in his head waxing and waning as he steps. Walking through the small opening of the room divider feels like walking into a warm sauna. A small confined space that feels cozy rather than oppressive as so many small spaces tend to be. Astarion unclips his daggers, letting them unceremoniously drop onto the floor while looking at the soft down bed in front of him. It’s calling to him, but with a touch to his side covering his hand in sticky wet blood he fights the temptation to lay.

“Your bed’s linens can be washed, as should your wounds if you would just lie down.” Halsin rumbles, reading minds as he always seems to do, “If need be, I will give you my bed.”

The sharp pain deep in Astarion’s brain nestled right up against his tadpole is enough for him to cave, crawling into his bed and letting his blood-covered armor soak into the sheets. His eyelids flutter closed, sinking into his bed while Halsin and Gale have a small back-and-forth that he tunes into.

“Sit, rest, I will mend your wounds, my heart.”

“I’m rather unscathed compared to the others, there’s no need to fuss over me.”

“I would disagree.”

The silence muffles everything around Astarion, aching pain in his body being the only thing that lets him know he’s still awake.

“Of course.” Gale eventually murmurs, “If you must, I just ask that you care for him first.” Astarion notes the familiar melancholy in his voice.

That makes Astarion crack open an eye, just in time to see the warm glow of Halsin’s magic reach towards him. A rush of heat roils through his body massaging the thoughts out of his head, feeling the worst of his wounds stitch close. He slowly blinks in appreciation as Halsin wraps his arms around Astarion’s prone body, unclipping and unfastening his armor. He obliges with the silent cue, shifting and rolling to help peel the thick leather off.

With a deep breath he sits up with ease, practically floating up without the oppressive layers of his armor. He lays back against the wall, Halsin rubbing his hands together making them glow that soft warmth again before he gently presses his palms against Astarion’s forehead. The relief feels so good it draws out a soft moan, the worst of his headache gone in the blink of an eye. The muscles in his neck, having been drawn nearly as tight as his bowstring, loosen and relax.

Halsin runs his hands through Astarion’s curls, coming back with grit and grime covering his fingers, “You, my friend, need a bath.”

He still smells like oil, his arms stick to his bare torso uncomfortably and if he focuses he can still sense a slight pressure from those chains despite the healing, but at least he feels like he’ll live and a bath seems like way too much effort right now. A small disgruntled hum is thankfully enough to get Halsin to drop the idea.

Staring across their small offshoot Gale has stripped down to just his boxers, black ash tinting his neck and arms a sickly grey, cuts and bruises litter his back. His staff leaned up against the headrest and his robes are neatly folded at the foot of his bed in the same way Astarion saw that night in the woods, all that time ago. Halsin gives Astarion a small squeeze on his arm, turning his attention to Gale.

When large palms press up to Gale’s back he flinches, swiveling around with a frustrated grimace, “Halsin, I should not be the focus of your aid right now.”

Halsin draws his hands back just a bit, urging Gale to ease, “I did as you asked,” He gestures to Astarion, “He is well, now let me help you too. Once I am finished with my ‘fussing’ we may rest.”

Astarion pitches forward, giving a lifetime performance as he makes a loud yawn, stretching his arms over his head and leaning to his left then his right. Firm grip on hips, he kicks one of his feet out, feeling the tips of his toes just barely brush against Gale’s leg hair, “Quit snapping and let the man do his work.”

Gale presses his palms against his eyes, “Yes, yes, sorry.”

While Halsin mends Gale’s wounds Astarion leaves to grab a carafe of water, hastily rubbing off the worst of the blood and ash. When he walks back Halsin and Gale are lying in their bed, the smaller man wrapped in Halsin’s arms. A jolt of excitement rushes through Astarion’s body, shooing away any remnants of battle as he plops down onto his own bed only a few feet away, ready for a show.

Halsin’s eyes are closed, but Gale’s are wide open staring at Astarion. He tries to keep the grin from his face, pulling one leg up onto the bed to lean his chin on. They stare at each other a bit more and Halsin’s not making any sort of move, just lying there. Almost as if he were in his trance for the evening.

“Would you like to join us?” Gale whispers.

Astarion squints. Hold on now…

“No?” he draws out. Gale deflates, breaking their eye contact in too much shame for what felt like an obvious answer.

“My apologies, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Astarion raises a finger, “Wait, are you two not going to…”

Gale looks back, the both of them mirroring each other’s confusion. A quick game of charades, Astarion raises his eyebrows making a small circle with his pointer finger and thumb for his other pointer finger to go through.

“What?!” Gale throws his head back, hitting Halsin square on his nose. The elf lets out a low growl, going to rub the assaulted appendage as Gale continues, “By the nine hells, no! Are you mad?”

“It’s not an outlandish thought! Every time we’ve had a near-death experience within the last month you two fuck, gods forbid I notice a pattern.”

Gale sputters, shaking his head and squirming out of Halsin’s grip to half sit up on the bed, “No we don’t!”

“You two went at each other like dogs after escaping a collapsing subnautical maze, I feel like this would be less mad than that!”

“No it is not!”

Halsin’s arms squeeze Gale, tucking him back into a firm hug and turning to roll them both onto their backs much to Gale’s clear frustration, “You are both injured and overwhelmed. The three of us have plenty of time remaining, we shall enjoy the comforts of our intimacy when you’re both rested.” Astarion doesn’t miss the smile on Halsin’s face, “Though, it was not an incorrect assumption.”

“Don’t take his side!” Gale squawks.

Astarion leans back to the wall letting the light buzz of humor settle into him, miscommunication and muddled expectations serving as a conduit for light jabs instead of broken hearts. His gentle moment is almost ruined when he fully realizes it, seeing the doorway to much darker thoughts behind his eyes.

Gale’s sharp huff makes him realize how close he was to walking into it, “What I meant to ask, seeing as your head is stuck under the sheets, is if you wanted to join us in bed for the night. I’m sure Halsin’s arms are big enough for two.”

Old habits turn Astarion’s lips into a grimace, he’s plenty happy to watch from the distance he’s at and sleep in his own bed, thank you very much. But he remembers it. The warmth he felt leaning into Gale’s arms after battle, completely devoid of any malicious context. The habits he had built over centuries, constructed and reinforced to protect himself as much as he could… they don’t feel as necessary. Not right now at least.

“No need to tear yourself up about it, there will be no foul blood between us if your answer is still no, I just wanted to clarify”

Astarion sits silently as if he’s thinking, but really his mind is totally empty. A gnawing desire to say yes boils up his throat, his gums ache and throb as he unwillingly swallows down the words. In only a few seconds a single thought forms in his head. What if he hates it?

It rattles around in his brain, confusing him every time it echoes. He can’t for the life of him pin down why that is the first thing he thinks.

“If you wish, you may simply lie next to us.” Halsin says, same steady voice he always speaks in. The stakes are low, Astarion is allowed to be here, and he’s allowed to leave.

Unwilling to risk saying something, Astarion gets up, steps over, and crawls into bed. The divot that Halsin and Gale make pulls Astarion in, until he’s pressed up to Halsin’s side. No longer in the heat of the moment, with a clearer head and much further from the abyss of death, the warmth feels different. Still nice, still inviting, but a lot more artificial.

He can tell he’s as stiff as a corpse, probably just as cold as one too, undoubtedly freezing against Halsin’s skin, but the other elf doesn’t even shift, doesn’t move an inch as Astarion saps away his heat, just lays there and lets Astarion readjust as needed. He hears Gale shift, flipping over so he’s chest to chest with Halsin, letting an arm lay loosely over Astarion’s waist.

They lay in silence and eventually the contrasting temperature between him and the two other men evens out. He relaxes, feeling his discomfort slowly ease away as he drifts into his trance.