In which Astarion tries to proposition you during the tiefling party, but nothing goes to plan afterwards.
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Astarion has rarely been sure of anything in his life. Though, there are three facts in which he was terribly sure of:
- He absolutely despises his old master, Cazador, and would do anything to keep that bastard from breathing in another atom of oxygen.
- The wine that the tieflings brought to this pathetic excuse of a celebratory party was absolutely rank and stinks of piss and vinegar.
- And, that he fucking hates the kindness his defacto leader has been showing him ever since you found him on that beach near the Nautiloid crash region.
The taste of your blood lingers on his tongue, taunting him in whispered voices like a curse he could never get rid of. It beckons him to seek you out, to enter your tent and ask to have his fill of that delicious blood of yours. To never leave your side because he just couldn't get enough of you.
Perhaps, this was why Cazador forbade his spawn from drinking the blood of thinking creatures. He has never felt this needy and feral, even in the days when his master starved him.
It frustrates him to no end that this weird obsession he has with you clouds his Grand Plan. It was supposed to be you who succumbs to his charms, not the other way around.
Even though Astarion knows you're at least a little more than fond of him, he feels as if there's an imbalance in your relationship. He honestly feels like a lapdog, always at the ready by your side, ready to gnaw on whatever you were willing to give him, and he feels stupid enough not to feel disgusted by this.
He'll ask you to join his bed again tonight, he thinks. You all had just saved the Tieflings from a Goblin attack at the Grove. It was completely arduous and unnecessarily difficult, but hey, at least you've all got vinegar for wine, right?
Right?
Astarion wants to jump off a fucking cliff.
He did not just gain freedom and access to the Sun to be someone he was not- a hero. But, he can't help it. Where you go, he goes. He needs your protection after all. That was why he was doing all this effort to charm abd seduce you.
It was his only reason.
RIGHT?
If he doesn't stop panic-thinking about his godsdamned plan, he swears he's going to go insane before they got rid of the tadpoles in their heads.
Less thinking, more doing. It's what he's good at, he supposes.
So, Astarion quietly waits for you to saunter over, a goblet in his hand, occasionally getting swirled flirtatiously when you glance at him.
You go around the camp, doing your usual rounds with your other companions, making the additional effort to speak to the Tieflings and Halsin.
Godsdamned Halsin.
That massive hunk of a Wood Elf they had to rescue in teh Goblin Camp. Astarion still doesn't see how the druid should've just Wild Shaped into a rat and scurry the fuck out of the prison. He inwardly groans at the druid now, how he looks at you with such doting eyes.
He hates it.
And the way you were smiling at him sends shivers down his spine.
If the druid keeps this up, Astarion's going to lose his one chance at destroying the evil bastard Cazador. He silently curses to himself when he sees Halsin knowingly grin at you.
Astarion can't help but roll his eyes and down his goblet filled to the brim with cheap wine.
Finally,
Finally,
You saunter over to his tent, all bright smiles, with cheeks slightly pink from drinking your own fair share of wine. He senses a happy buzz about you.
It's terribly annoying how drawn he was. Like a moth to a flame, Astarion was.
It's pathetic.
"It's always a pleasure to see you sauntering over," Astarion drawls out as seductively as he can. "You will come to my bed tonight, won't you?"
"How forward of you, Astarion." By the way you giggle, he could tell you've had one too many to drink. You smack your lips in thought, your head tilting a bit to the side- a habit you do when you're deciding, Astarion notes. "I don't know yet, honestly." You continue with an air of mischief.
Astarion grins a cheshire cat-like smile. "Perhaps, you need a little more convincing, hm?"
"By all means."
Astarion hums, shooting you a coaxing look. "How about this one," he practically purrs. "All these accolades from the Tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips."
"That's good. Though, I think you could do one better." You tease, arms crossed over your chest.
Astarion smirks at you. "Tough crowd, but alright, anything for you darling," he clears his throat dramatically before speaking. "Every part of your body whispers temptation. It's as if the gods made you just to ruin me."
You nod your head in approval, a grin plastered across your face while a subtle pool of warmth makes its presence known in the pit of your stomach.
"Better," you hum pleasantly. Astarion perks up at your praise, puffing out his chest more. "I'll come to you when everyone else is asleep."
Astarion's eyes darken as he gazes at you through silver eyelashes. "I'm sure you will come, darling."
You shake your head fondly at the vampire, before allowing your feet to carry you elsewhere, not really caring about your next destination. Your night's been planned, after all. You only need to whittle down the hours until you were in Astarion's arms- again.
The first time Astarion asked you to sleep with him happened just after you met the Gur, Gandrel, in the Sunlit Wetlands. The man told you that he was in search of a vampire spawn named Astarion.
Though, you can't pinpoint exactly how good of a monster hunter he is considering the fact that he doesn't even know what Astarion looked like.
Regardless, you played along with Gandrel until your patience waned, letting Astarion deal the final blow on the Gur. You weren't about to let Astarion be taken from your camp, not when he's proven time and again to be a useful ally.
As much as he seemed to hate helping others, he proved quite formidable in your quest to protect the Tieflings. He complains constantly, of course, though you wonder how much of his complaints were actually real. Surely he would've asked to stay in camp once he's had enough of helping people, right?
Nevermind that. You can analyze Astarion's character at another time. Tonight, you yearn for his touch, and perhaps, even a little bit of fun away from the others.
When the atmosphere of your camp calms, you sneak past everybody's tents, going to the spot Astarion lured you in a few weeks ago.
It's quiet, you note. Nothing but the sounds of tiny crickets chirping and the soft rustling of leaves resonates in the crisp night air. You let yourself enjoy a moment of peace, alone. Sitting back on your palms, you close your eyes, feeling the gentle glow of the Moon grace your features.
You hum a soft tune while waiting for a charming roguish vampire.
Some moments later, Astarion makes his presence known by crunching a dry leaf beneath his boot. You turn to him, a pleasant smile already etched on your face.
"Aren't you the punctual one?" Astarion teases in that sultry voice of his. He sits himself beside you, aiming to overwhelm you with everything about him— his charms, his words, his scent.
"Am I punctual or are you just late?" You shot back, earning a chuckle from the vampire beside you.
"Fair point, darling," he responds. "Do you still intend to enjoy the evening with me or has my tardiness affected that decision?"
You purse your lips. "I could be persuaded," your voice rasps, leaning into him. His eyes briefly drift to your lips before meeting your eyes. He hears your breath hitch, your heartbeat hammering in your chest quicker. It amuses him to know he has this effect on you.
It intoxicates him as well.
He smells the sweetness of your blood in the air, allowing himself to get drunk in your presence.
After centuries of forcing himself to be intimate with strangers, he's developed a habit of spacing out while doing the act to preserve what little sanity he had left. Tonight, he wants to try and remain present because he actually wants to have sex.
With you.
Even if this all tadpole thing goes up in flames, he wants to remember you.
Astarion leans in without another thought, taking up your mouth in a fervent kiss. Gods, he loved the taste of you. So sweet, so warm, so delectable. He can't get enough of you.
You let out a satisfied sigh when you feel his soft lips ravage yours. You part your lips without question, giving him a silent permission to nip, to suck, to explore.
Astarion takes the invitation in stride, letting his tongue taste and devour you. He nips at your lower lip, his fang gently teasing the tender flesh. You let out a gasp when you feel his sharp teeth pierce your skin, but you don't care. You let him nibble and suck at the oozing blood from the small open wound— practically teasing him with your sweetness.
Perhaps, it was a mistake he had chosen to bite you that night. Now that he has had a taste of your blood, a glimpse of your kindness— he can't get enough of it.
Astarion pulls back, his lips glistening from your shared spittle, a slight sheen of red graces his chin. You giggle, reaching out a thumb to clean the mess on his face.
"You've always been a messy eater." You pant, a fond smile on your face.
The vampire smirks at you, his eyes darkening. "Want to see how messy of an eater I can get?"
Not a second later, he has you on your back after harshly tugging on your ankles. Your head hits the soft moss with a thump! and you were doing your best not to laugh.
"Astarion!" You scold, though your feigned anger is interrupted by your soft giggles.
He parts your legs with his knee, crawling up to take up your mouth in his again. This time, the kiss was quick, chaste— an apologetic kiss from pulling you so ungraciously to the ground.
"My apologies, darling," he whispers, placing another kiss on your jaw. Astarion busies his other hand with the laces of your trousers. "Got too excited, is all."
Astarion pulls at your waistband, removing your trousers and your underwear with it. You shiver, feeling goosebumps raise from your thighs as the cool night air nips at your skin.
He pushes your thighs further apart. "Would you allow me to make it up to you?" Astarion seductively asks, trailing a cool hand up and down your thigh.
You immediately feel that warm heat pool at the pit of your stomach, your cunt no doubt becomes slick with want in response.
You wordlessly nod, not trusting your voice to not sound so desperate.
"I need to hear you say it, darling." His hand wanders closer to your aching cunt, tracing teasing circles along the way.
You swallow, your heart burning with desire. "Yes, Astarion."
"Good." Astarion responds, sitting back on his knees. He grasps your thighs and places them over his shoulder is one fluid motion, making you yelp from your place. He places open mouthed kisses along the inside of your thigh, your breath hitching in your throat, your wanton cunt throbbing with need.
You feel his cool breath closer and closer, wanting nothing more for his tongue to swipe at your folds. You watch him carefully in anticipation as he continues his ministrations— teasing you, making you wetter and wetter.
Then, you see it.
That distant look in his eye that you ignored the first time you slept with him.
You see him settle between your legs, his nose tickling the sparse hair of your privates. He looks up at you, to gauge your reaction perhaps, but when you looked into them, you found nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Astarion doesn't even see the worry in your eye, that's how far gone he was.
"Stop," you interrupt him before he even has the chance to lick your slick. Luckily, he's present enough to listen. He stops whatever he's doing immediately.
Astarion seems to shake himself awake. "Are you alright, darling?" He asks you as he sits up, letting go of his grasp on your thighs.
You sigh, pushing yourself off of the moss. You see fear in those red eyes of his, from why or what, you wouldn't know.
"I'm fine," you say calmly. "What about you? Are you alright?" You emphasize.
"I—" Astarion falters for a moment, then he remembers himself. His mask slips on almost flawlessly. "Of course," he replies, a bite to his words. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You know, you didn't have to invite me out here if you didn't actually want to sleep with me again."
Astarion draws back, clearly offended. "Whatever gave that impression?"
Gods, give you strength and patience. He needs a gentle hand lest he lunges and attacks you.
"There was something about your eyes earlier," you reply honestly. "They seemed... distracted, maybe? Perhaps, even lost. I don't know. I just wanted to make sure that this was what you wanted as well."
"It is."
Astarion's shoulders slump, a quiet anger building up inside him. He's angry at you for spotting such weakness in him. He's also angry at himself, for thinking he could finally he intimate without having the trauma and fear Cazador instilled within him.
How stupid he was.
"You know what," Astarion speaks as he begins to stand. "Forget it. Forget this ever happened. I'll see you at camp."
Panic rises in your chest. Perhaps, you'd been too honest, too raw, and that made him draw back. You clutch at his wrist before he could take another step away from you.
"Talk to me, please?" You pleaded, boring your gaze into his crimson eyes. Gods, they looked so terrified.
He rips his hand away from your grip, and spits, "I don't need your pity."
Astarion immediately regrets speaking once he see the hurt flash across your features. Your nose flares, your frown deepens.
"Pity?" You retort venomously. "Is it so hard to believe that I actually care enough about you to talk things through rather than leaving things to be buried in hate?"
Astarion scowls, his red eyes brimming with a desperate and angry fire.
"Well," he begins mockingly. "When you've been as fucked up by the fates as I have, you'll find that, yes, it is hard to believe. Now, will you let me go?"
You clench your jaw, your teeth practically grinding together.
"No," you state firmly. "I'm the leader here. You will sit down and speak to me."
It pains you to use the authority card on him, knowing it may do a world of harm before it can do good, but you needed him to listen to you.
Astarion's eyes widen, he's as surprised as you to use that fact over him. Wordlessly, he obeys, sitting himself beside your cross-legged.
You've recovered your trousers and slipped them on by now. You turn towards Astarion, sighing deeply upon looking at the dejected expression on his face.
He thinks he's going to be punished.
"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I shouldn't have pulled the 'I'm your leader, obey me' card. It was cruel."
"Hardly the worst thing that's happened to me. I'm sure I can look past it." His voice is calmer now, though a whole lot more careful, as if he didn't trust you like he did before.
You heart pangs with guilt. It twists and aches in your chest, making its pain known. You close your eyes and sigh deeply, recollecting your own thoughts and feelings. When you look up at him, you nearly cry upon seeing him so weary and so afraid.
You stretched out a gentle hand, your palm upturned, waiting for him to take it or reject it. If Astarion still had a heartbeat, he was sure it would be going wild in his chest, pumping rapidly and without shame.
He slides his hand into yours.
A small gesture of trust, of comfort— it was enough for you.
"Tell me again, Astarion," you begin slowly, carefully, in a patient voice that makes him want to shatter. "Are you alright?"
He shakes his head weakly, saying, "No."
You let your thumb trace lazy circles at the back of his hand. "Will you tell me why?"
Part of Astarion wants to curse you, he doesn't need to be coddled like this. If Cazador would see him now, he would be punished for being so weak, for needing another soul to help him process everything that's going on.
Though, Cazador is not here— you are. And part of Astarion wants to lean into your kindness, your care, your patience, your affection. He's addicted to it. He wants to succumb to it. He wants to feel safe in your arms and godsdamned it if he has to be pulled away, kicking and screaming.
"I..." His crimson eyes shift, terribly uncertain. Then, he steels himself with a huff. "I thought I could sleep with another person without having the horrors of my past come back to haunt me."
You nod slowly. "Is that why you asked me? To try?"
Before he can give you the impression that he was sleeping with you to be a test subject, he speaks, "Gods, no! I— I mean, yes. But not because I only wanted to try, because I wanted to. I haven't wanted to have sex with someone in centuries. I've always been forced to. And, now that I finally have my agency and can want for someone, it all gets ruined by... by whatever horrors that plague me."
Astarion looks at you for the first time since his outburst, and he sees that surprised look in your eye. Then, characteristically, he rolls his eyes with a huff.
"Don't be so surprised," he speaks, his natural self returning. "You do have your charms, you know?"
"Well," you clear your throat almost nervously. "Do you want... this?" You ask, gesturing with your free hand between the two of you.
Astarion's lips form a thin line in thought, suddenly unsure once more. "This is going to sound ridiculous," he prefaces in a hurried voice. "But, could we take it slow? I do want to see where this goes."
"Alright," you say softly, your chest immediately lightening. "We'll take it as slow as you need. You tell me where to go, Astarion. I'll just follow your lead."
He lets out a breath he doesn't know he was holding, his tense shoulders relax, his spine no longer so tightly wound.
"Thank you," he breathes.
"Also, I want you to know that sex isn't really a big deal for me. I can wait for you for as long as you need."
"Darling, sex is the only path of intimacy I know. So, if I find myself lost... guide me?"
"Of course."
Astarion's eyes soften. He brings up your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. Your heart swells with affection.
This man— this lovely Elven rogue, has dealt with the cruelty of life longer than any person should. If it has to be you to show him the way to happiness, the way to healing, then so be it. You're grateful for the task.
"Is it alright if we stay out here for a little while?" Astarion asks.
"Sure, but can I ask why?"
He merely shrugs. "It feels right."
A smile slowly creeps its way to your face. It takes Astarion's breath away.
He hopes you know better than to smile at him like that, so open, so full of joy, so vulnerable. It scares him, makes him want to return the same sentiment.
It makes him want to earn that smile on your face again and again.
With a final huff, he's decided.
Maybe, just maybe, he will.