Archive of Our Own

Given the circumstances Gale currently found himself in, it was understandable that he might often be lost in thought. Between the tadpoles, the orb and increasing threat of the Absolute, there was plenty for him to worry about. However, he was instead plagued by something else entirely. It was the elven vampire sharing his camp that distracted Gale at every possible moment.

In truth, casual flings were not Gale’s forte. He knew only how to devote himself to someone, and Astarion clearly had no interest in such a relationship. If he were a wiser man, Gale would have immediately exiled his tryst with Astarion to the depths of his memory. An uncharacteristic decision, made during a time of great stress, never to be thought about again.

Unfortunately, Gale was proving himself to be an increasingly unwise man. Every night, the memory consumed him, quickening his pulse, guiding his hand. Every day, he fought the urge to stare openly at the vampire, instead resorting to small, stolen glances.

It didn’t help that Astarion was painfully beautiful. It almost hurt to look at him. Gale could see how that face had lured countless people to their deaths. It was the kind of face poets and painters would want to immortalise, not that Astarion needed any help in that department.

So Gale looked, from a respectful distance, and indulged only in his imagination. Though even that indulgence proved distracting.

On one particular night, Gale was preparing dinner for the camp, roughly chopping an array of looted vegetables to form a soup. On the other side of the camp, Astarion and Karlach sat by the fire, their faces illuminated in a soft orange glow. They were talking but Gale couldn’t make out the words, despite him straining to listen. He watched as Karlach clapped Astarion on the shoulder with a hearty laugh and Astarion laughed in return, quieter but with an equally sincere joy in his voice.

The sound washed a wave of emotion across Gale. He wanted to make Astarion laugh like that. He wanted to make him smile, bring him joy, even just feel the weight of his gaze on him again.

Gale flinched. When he looked down, he realised he’d cut through the tip of his finger instead of a potato. The wound was small, but it smarted slightly. It was a pain that made his face feel flush, returning to a memory he wasn’t due to revisit for another couple of hours.

“That seems a rather amateur mistake for you.”

Suddenly, Astarion was beside him. He took Gale’s wrist in his hand and lifted it up, inspecting the cut.

“Or perhaps it wasn’t a mistake.” Astarion smiled, “There are easier ways to get my attention, darling.”

Gale was about to protest, until Astarion lifted his hand in front of his own face and slowly opened his mouth. He stared directly into Gale’s eyes, watching him closely, and when Gale merely stared back in response, he put the wounded finger in his mouth, closing his lips around it.

Gale froze, his breath caught in his chest. Astarion’s eyes fluttered closed as he licked and sucked on the wound. His mouth was so soft and eerily cold. It felt soothing on Gale’s injury, but more than that, Astarion’s gratuitous display was prompting an unwanted reaction from his body.

When Astarion eventually released Gale’s hand, the cut was clean and his finger was wet with spit. He hummed pleasantly, like he’d just enjoyed a delicious treat. Gale fought against himself to maintain some illusion of composure.

“I thought I tasted terrible.” He said, his voice forced even. “Like bile, if I’m remembering correctly.”

Astarion chuckled. The noise only served to bring more colour to Gale’s cheeks.

“Yes, you do. But strangely enough, I find it’s growing on me.” Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly and he continued with a perfect veneer of nonchalance. “It’s a shame too much would poison me, otherwise I could happily suck you dry.”

Gale tried to force out a casual laugh, but it came out more like a wheeze.

“I suppose I shall take that as a compliment.” He wiped his hand on his trousers and turned back towards his chopping board, hopefully obscuring anything compromising from Astarion’s view. “I should get back to preparing dinner though. Thank you for… that.”

“You’re most welcome.” Astarion purred. “I’m sure it will be delicious.”

Then as quickly as he’d appeared, Astarion was gone.

Gale released a shaky breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and braced himself against the table. The effect that man had on him was almost laughable, and certainly shameful. Yet despite his embarrassment, Gale could only think about one thing; his university alchemy class and in particular, a potion of superior poison resistance.

———

It was days before Gale was able to gather all the ingredients for his potion. He considered himself a decent alchemist, but it wasn’t his speciality. He’d spent several nights pouring over any books in his possession that might mention how to strengthen poison resistance or how to tailor such a potion for the undead. Then he’d spent several more days covertly gathering the necessary herbs while traveling with the adventuring party.

When the potion was finally complete, he then spent another few days musing over how to bring the subject up to Astarion. It seemed awfully desperate to admit that he’d been studying for days and foraging rare ingredients, all to brew a potion which would allow Astarion to bite him. That was a lot of effort to put into what was likely to be a quick and sordid affair.

However, when Tav informed the group that they would be spending the night at an inn, Gale knew he had to act fast. The privacy of a real bedroom, the possibility of a night on soft sheets; it was too good an opportunity to miss.

So as the group filed into the small but homely inn that would be their resting place for the night, Gale took careful notice of the keys being distributed to the party members.

Curiously, Shadowheart hadn’t received a key, instead she seemed to be following closely behind Tav, who’d already received hers. Perhaps that explained Tav’s instance that they spent a night in more civilised confines, when the forest floor had previously been deemed good enough.

Astarion took his key last and hung it from his fingertip, proclaiming dramatically that if his room didn’t have a bath, he’d be swapping with someone who did. The tag on the key read ‘4’.

———

Several hours later, after all the party members had retreated to their rooms, Gale stood outside room 4, turning a potion bottle over in his hands. He watched the way the glass caught the light from the sconces in the corridor, refracting it in a dozen different directions from its decorative surface.

He had been rehearsing the conversation in his head for the past 5 minutes, but couldn’t come up with a way to say ‘please bite me’ that didn’t sound utterly desperate. The longer he stood there, the more this felt like a terrible idea.

In the end, Gale gritted his teeth and knocked on the door, swallowing his doubts for the time being.

“Astarion? It’s Gale.”

There was a pause and then a muffled ‘come in’ from behind the door.

As Gale entered the bedroom, he took stock of his surroundings. Astarion had managed to acquire a better room than Gale himself. There was a large, four poster bed against one wall, an intricately embroidered rug covering the floor and in the corner, a large mirror in an ornate gold frame. Not that that would be much use to Astarion. In the centre of the room a metal bathtub sat in front of the fireplace and in it, Astarion was lounging serenely, seemingly unbothered by the intrusion.

“Oh- I’m sorry, I can come back later.” Gale stepped back towards the door.

Astarion regarded him casually.

“No, it’s alright. I was about done here anyway.”

The bathwater swished as Astarion stood up. He faced the fire as he stepped out of the bath, his back turned to Gale.
Gale couldn’t help but stare. Astarion had the physique (and also the complexion) of a marble statue. His body looked like it had been sculpted to a vision of perfection. Gale had seen him shirtless before at camp, he’d seen the circle of scars on his back and heard pieces of the horrific story behind them, but he’d never seen him fully naked.

When Astarion turned to retrieve a towel, Gale instinctively turned away. He heard the rustle of fabric and then Astarion’s voice, sounding amused.

“I’m decent, Gale. You can turn around.”

He was half-decent at least, wearing his trousers but no shirt. Water dripped from his damp curls onto his bare shoulders. Gale cleared his throat.

“So, I did a little research and I think I have a potion that may be of some use to you.” He stared at Astarion, as though hoping he would glean some meaning from such little information.

Astarion stared blankly back.

“It’s a potion of poison resistance,” Gale continued, trying to look anywhere but the droplets of water running down Astarion’s chest, “a very strong potion, in fact. So… if you wanted to, perhaps- well-“

Astarion stepped closer, still saying nothing, apparently quite content to watch Gale struggle.

“If you wanted to feed… on me, that is, then this potion should protect you from any ill effects you might otherwise suffer from my blood.”

“That’s quite the generous gift.” Astarion’s voice was amused, but Gale thought he detected some genuine interest. He steeled his nerves and barrelled ahead.

“Now, the recipe I referenced was written for use by mortals, however I’m fairly confident it will work for you. But don’t worry,” Gale pointed his finger at Astarion, trying to convey an air of confidence, “if anything goes awry, I’ll have you healed instantaneously.”

Astarion smiled slightly.

“I trust you.” He said, and took the potion from Gale’s hand.

He shook the bottle gently, watching the liquid swish through the translucent glass. Then he uncorked it and downed the potion in one fluid motion.

“That was… more pleasant than I was expecting.”

“Ah well, I added some honey and rosewater so it would be more palatable.” Gale explained.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at that, though Gale couldn’t understand why. Surely he didn’t think Gale would ask him to drink some putrid concoction on top of risking his health.

“So, the effects are immediate?” Astarion asked.

Gale nodded.

“Let’s not waste any time then.”

“It will last several hours, so there’s no rush to-“

Suddenly, Astarion was all but pressed against him and cold fingertips were tracing the collar of his robe. Gale tried to steady his breath; getting flustered by mere closeness was surely not a good look. Though as Astarion’s fingers dipped below the fabric and skimmed lightly over his collarbone, Gale felt his composure crumbling.

“And aside from your blood,” Astarion’s voice was barely above a whisper, “is there anything else you’d like to offer me?”
Gale swallowed hard and his voice came out strained and unfamiliar.

“Anything,” he said, “anything you want.”

Clearly that was the answer Astarion was hoping for. He smiled, his eyes narrowed like the cat that got the cream. He stepped back.

“Clothes off, then.”

The command felt no less humiliating than it had the first time, but now Gale couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed by the vampire’s presumptuousness. He removed his clothes without protest and folded them neatly on the bed.

Astarion made no attempt to hide his wandering gaze as it travelled down Gale’s body. Gale felt, for a moment, that unpleasant pang of self-consciousness take hold of him, but then Astarion was looking directly into his eyes and speaking with a voice that dripped honey.

“Good boy.”

The effect those words had on him was beyond shameful, but they immediately laid waste to any other thoughts Gale was having. He needed Astarion’s hands on him, his mouth, anything.

Astarion sauntered to the other side of the room and gestured to the large, ornate mirror.

“Come here.”

Gale walked over and stood in front of the mirror, looking straight at Astarion so he didn’t have to face his own naked reflection.

“Kneel.”

And Gale kneeled.

“Come on now, darling.” Astarion huffed out an impatient sigh and pushed at Gale’s knee with his foot.

Gale didn’t know what Astarion wanted him to do. If he did, he’d already be doing it.

“Your legs, open your legs.”

Gale complied.

“Wider, wider… there you go!”

Gale’s legs were spread so wide, he could feel the muscles in his groin straining. He was still looking away from the mirror.

Then Astarion settled on the floor behind him, the smooth, cool plain of his chest pressed to Gale’s back. Gale tried to meet his eyes in the mirror but of course, that wasn’t possible. Instead, he was met with his own image; naked, in an exposing position and jarringly alone.

A cool breath passed over his shoulder as Astarion sighed.

“Don’t you look just delicious.”

He tried to look away but Astarion’s hand caught his chin, with a disapproving tut. Gale relented, and turned to his reflection in the mirror.

He could see the arousal in his own eyes, his head held in place by an unseen force. Astarion clearly intended to make Gale watch himself and as unbearably embarrassing as it was, something about the idea was undeniably appealing. Maybe that meant he had an ego, or maybe he just enjoyed being pseudo-forced into doing something he wouldn’t otherwise do. Either way, Gale was now most definitely hard.

Astarion’s hand released his chin and instead gathered Gale’s wrists, joining them at the small of his back. He let them go a second later, but Gale obediently held the position. Had he been able to see Astarion in the mirror, Gale would have seen the clear satisfaction that graced his features.

With his hands now free, Astarion began exploring Gale’s body. This was certainly more intimate than their first encounter, where he’d practically had to beg Astarion for a touch. Now, Gale was being lavished with attention.

Astarion caressed up his thigh, his touch feather light and narrowly avoiding Gale’s cock. He moved up to his stomach. In this position, any definition to Gale’s abs was lost and the thought that Astarion might be disappointed by his imperfect physique sat heavy in the back of his mind, but Astarion just gave a pleased hum as he explored the soft skin.

When Astarion reached his chest, he wasted no time in cupping his pecs and squeezing gently, as though he were touching a woman. It was a strange sight in the mirror. The impression of handprints indented his skin though no hands could be seen. Gale wanted desperately to see Astarion’s face, to watch Astarion watching him.

A hand weaved its way into his hair and then Gale’s head was abruptly yanked to the side. He felt Astarion’s breath fan over his exposed neck as he sighed again. Gale braced himself for the impending bite but instead he felt Astarion’s lips pressing lightly to his shoulder. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, almost like a kiss.

Astarion continued like that, into the crook of Gale’s neck and along his throat. When he reached Gale’s ear, he nuzzled into the soft skin behind it and sighed again.

He was smelling him, Gale realised.

Gale felt Astarion’s cool tongue trace the shell of his ear. The sensation pulled a breathy moan from him. His body felt so tightly strung, almost quivering in anticipation. When Astarion’s mouth returned to his throat, Gale instinctively squeezed his eyes shut.

“Eyes open, my dear.” The command was soft but firm. Gale opened his eyes.

When Astarion’s fangs penetrated his flesh, Gale watched his own mouth fall open. Pain blossomed through him, searing hot and all-consuming. After a moment, the pain faded to numbness and all Gale could feel was a strange pressure as Astarion suckled on his skin. Small, almost inaudible moans vibrated against his neck as Astarion drank him down. It filled Gale with an unexpected warmth to know that he was providing the vampire with some form of pleasure.

Then Astarion detached himself from Gale’s neck. It seemed too quick and Gale was about to encourage Astarion to continue, when he was bitten again, slightly further down his neck.

Again, the pain overwhelmed him and this time he wasn’t braced for it. A low moan escaped his lips, gravelly and desperate. Gale fought the urge to close his eyes or just look away from the shameful sight in the mirror. Four puncture wounds decorated his neck, but not a drop of blood was spilled, Astarion was making sure of that.

Gale was starting to feel weaker now. Astarion was feeding with abandon, his jaw working against Gale’s neck as he drank. Then he pulled away again, faster this time, his fangs tearing at the skin and leaving behind messy gashes.

When Astarion latched onto his throat a third time, higher now, just beneath his jaw, Gale gave up on any attempt at maintaining his dignity. He whimpered, unabashed, surrendering himself to the pain. Astarion responded with a groan of his own and tightened his grip in Gale’s hair.

As Astarion continued to drink, Gale found himself feeling colder and his limbs growing heavy. His vision blurred slightly and the image of his own body was no longer so difficult to look at, just a flesh-coloured smudge with which he had no qualms. It was… freeing.

At that moment, he felt light. Unburdened. As though Astarion was so kindly relieving him of the weight of his existence. Gale wanted that feeling to last forever.

He could give this terribly beautiful man sustenance and pleasure, simply by existing. And in that knowledge, Gale felt more peaceful than he could ever remember feeling before.

His eyes closed, but not to avoid his reflection, just to rest them and let that peace envelope him completely. He was standing on a precipice, looking into a sweet oblivion.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed behind his eyelids and Gale could hear Astarion’s voice. He was saying something that Gale couldn’t make out, but his tone was urgent. Then he felt a wave of magic pass over him and gradually, the world came back into focus.

“Gale?” Astarion’s hand was under his chin now, supporting the weight of his head.

“Hmm, yes?” Gale looked over his shoulder to see Astarion, eyes wide and brows pinched with concern, staring back at him. He had blood on his lips and down his chin, even running down his own neck. Gods, he was beautiful.

“I’m sorry, I… got a bit carried away.” Astarion said cautiously.

Gale blinked, slowly coming back to his senses. Really, he should be angry. Admittedly, they hadn’t set any boundaries, but Astarion had almost killed him. And yet… Gale wasn’t angry. In truth, he couldn’t feel much of anything through the soft glow of lightheadedness and arousal.

“That’s quite alright.” Gale straightened his posture, pushed his legs back into the position that Astarion had earlier insisted on and returned his hands to behind his back. He stared at the mirror, at the spot where he assumed Astarion would be, and tried to convey willingness through his eyes.

“You want to carry on?”

Gale nodded.

Immediately, Astarion was pressed against his back again. He coaxed Gale’s head to the side with a gentler tug on his hair and then got to work on his neck, soothing the wounds with his tongue. It almost felt like an apology.

Gale leant back slightly, resting against Astarion’s chest, and sighed. He let Astarion clean him up, as he had once before. His mind felt blissfully empty.

Astarion’s hands roamed Gale’s body again, caressing his skin, pinching his nipples. It was impressive how Astarion could work his body like an instrument, always knowing the right strings to pull to play a symphony that was in equal parts pleasure and need.

Under Astarion’s ministrations, Gale was soon hard again. At least Astarion had left him with enough blood for that.

A pale hand opened in front of Gale’s face.

“Spit.”

Gale hesitated, he wanted to tell Astarion that he could easily conjure some oil. Although presumably, that wasn’t the point. So he gathered a mouthful of saliva and spat it into Astarion’s palm.

Astarion hummed his approval and then took Gale’s cock in his hand. The touch drew a gasp from Gale that he didn’t even try to suppress. He didn’t know if it was the blood loss or just the intensity of the situation, but his nerves were alight, every touch felt overwhelming.

Astarion skilfully worked his length, applying just the right pressure and friction to have Gale keening in his arms. Instinctively, Gale tried to close his legs, pulling away from the relentless stimulation, but a firm hand gripped his thigh, holding him in place.

As Gale felt himself getting close, Astarion leaned into his neck, whispering a mixture of praise and obscenities into his ear.

“You do look gorgeous like this. Wrecked and needy. Truly a pleasure to watch.”

His voice was smooth and low, it sent shivers down Gale’s spine.

Suddenly, Astarion stilled his hand. Gale couldn’t hold back a frustrated whine. As if of their own will, his hips canted forwards, desperately fucking into Astarion’s loose grip.

Astarion laughed, a high, airy sound like tiny stones falling on the end of a piano.

“Aren’t you precious?” He cooed and then, thankfully, started moving his hand again. “Such a pretty little slut.”

With those words, Gale was cumming. His body jerked forward and immediately, Astarion grabbed his chin and held his head up to face the mirror. Gale watched as the orgasm wracked his body, his mouth hung agape and he had to fight to keep his eyes open, fixed on the obscene sight of his own reflection.

When the final tremors subsided, Astarion released him and lifted his hand again, to Gale’s face. Immediately, he knew what he was supposed to do and without complaint he licked his own cum from Astarion’s hand. The taste wasn’t great, but simply obeying without question was intoxicating.

Astarion wiped his hand on his trousers. He shifted his hips slightly and Gale felt the press of his erection against his ass. When Astarion spoke, his voice was soft and slightly tentative.

“So my dear, is there anything else you’d like to offer me?”

The opportunity to refuse was there, but Gale felt the words passing his lips as easily as breathing.

“My mouth.” He said quietly.

“I do like the sound of that.” Astarion’s smile was evident in his voice. He stood up and walked across the room. After a slight pause, he shuffled out of his trousers and situated himself on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide.

Fuck.

If Gale hadn’t just had one of the most intense orgasms of his life, that sight alone could have pushed him over the edge.
Weakly, he began unfolding his legs and pushed himself off the floor, but was quickly stopped.

“Ah, ah!” Astarion’s scolding tone and raised eyebrows were enough to stop Gale in his tracks. “Crawl.”

For a moment, Gale considered if that was too far. Crawling on all fours like a dog, just for the chance to suck Astarion off? It was beyond pathetic, and so far beneath him, he couldn’t believe he was considering it.

And yet, the temptation to obey was too strong. He wanted to do what Astarion wanted. Why exactly, he was in no state to comprehend. So Gale crawled across the floor, the coarse rug scratching at his knees and placed himself between Astarion’s legs.

The vampire was a bewitching sight, spread out in front of him. Somehow, he was even more flawless up close. His skin was pale and smooth, his body packed with lithe muscle. His cock was pale too, flushed pink at the tip, and curved slightly towards his stomach. It looked as elegant as the rest of him.

This was not Gale’s area of expertise, but perhaps he could work up to it. He pressed an open mouthed kiss to Astarion’s inner thigh. His skin was soft and of course, very cold. Gale dared a glance up at Astarion, to check that this was acceptable. Astarion looked surprised, but said nothing, just watched with mild curiosity.

So Gale worked his way across Astarion’s thighs, slowly and with a careful reverence, pressing gentle kisses to his skin. He closed his eyes, taking in the scent of soap and sweat. He did this for a while, but Astarion made no effort to hurry him.

When eventually he worked up enough courage, Gale started out slowly. He licked the underside of Astarion’s shaft, up to the tip. Then he licked at the base, allowing the length to graze across his cheek, and finally he took the head in his mouth. Astarion shuddered, a small moan escaping his lips. Gale wanted, needed even, to hear that sound again.

With as much technique as he could muster, Gale began bobbing his head. He didn’t exactly have a wealth of experience, but he hoped he could be sufficient for Astarion. The thought of disappointing him, after all the pleasure he’d received himself, was near unbearable. So he hollowed his cheeks and set a pace that he hoped he could keep.

When he looked up at Astarion, he was met with the full focus of those sharp eyes, boring into his own. Astarion looked enraptured. Gale felt a hand card through his hair, not holding him, just gently stroking his scalp.

Gale moaned, low and wanton. Astarion shuddered at the vibration and moaned as well, his fingers curling and uncurling in Gale’s hair.

Gale tried to move faster, but keeping his jaw slack was proving surprisingly difficult. He frowned, tried harder, desperate to please.

Then the fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him gently off Astarion’s cock.

“Would you like me to be rough with you, darling?” Astarion’s voice was uneven now, but still held an undeniable tone of authority. Gale swallowed.

“Yes- yes, please.” That was exactly what he wanted, for the control to be taken from him and to simply be used.

Astarion pushed him further back and stood up, then guided Gale to turn around so he sat with his back against the bed. He held himself in one hand and with the other, found a tighter grip in Gale’s hair. Astarion looked down at him and for a few seconds, didn’t move, just appraised him with an open expression.

Gale realised this was his opportunity to back out. Instead he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue in a way that he hoped would be erotic. Judging by the way lust clouded Astarion’s expression, it was.

Slowly Astarion pushed into him, until he was fully sheathed in Gale’s throat. The intrusion made Gale’s eyes water, but he moaned around Astarion’s cock and relaxed as best he could.

Astarion began to set a pace, holding Gale’s head in place, as he fucked his mouth. It was clear he was trying to hold back and let Gale adjust, but his movements quickly became more erratic as his willpower was tested. Soon he was snapping his hips without restraint, forcing his length down Gale’s abused throat over and over.

Gale tried his best to stay still and let his mouth go slack, welcoming the violent intrusion that was likely bruising his throat. It hurt a little and he was having to consciously suppress his gag reflex, and yet, it felt good.

Maybe not physically good, his body was too exhausted to provide him any physical pleasure now. But the feeling of being used filled him with an unfamiliar satisfaction. It was so simple, so mind-numbingly easy to exist in that moment, purely for Astarion.

Soon Astarion’s breaths grew heavy and his thrusts became stunted. Gale was mentally preparing himself to swallow, when his head was abruptly pulled back, pain stinging through his scalp. He didn’t have time to process what was happening before Astarion was cumming across his face. Breathy moans filled his ears and Gale felt like he could get high on that sound alone.

Then it was silent. Astarion stepped back on shuddering legs and Gale was suddenly very conscious of the cum quickly cooling on his face. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the need to sleep and the knowledge that his embarrassment would likely return soon. For a few seconds, he stayed like that, gradually slowing his breath.

Across the room, Gale heard the splash of water and when he opened his eyes again, Astarion was knelt in front of him holding a wet cloth.

He looked different now. Softer, maybe. The aura of authority and dominance he’d had just moments ago was seemingly gone.

“Apologies,” Astarion gestured vaguely at Gale’s face, “for that.”

Gale just hummed in response. He felt Astarion’s fingers skim across his temple, gently pushing his hair back from his face. When the cloth touched his skin, it was pleasantly warm.

Astarion’s movements were deft and careful. Gale watched as his brows pinched slightly. He looked a little more mortal from this distance, more flawed. Light blemishes littered his cheeks and soft lines creased his skin. His lips were slightly chapped.

Gale felt a slow ache in his chest as he looked at him. He cleared his throat.

“Earlier, you used a healing spell?” Gale asked.

Astarion met his eyes for a moment, then looked away.

“Yes, I learnt after the last time we…” Astarion trailed off.

Silence fell between them again. Astarion continued to clean Gale’s face and stomach with a surprising amount of care. Gale tried not to dwell too much on the tenderness of the situation. When he turned to Gale’s neck, Astarion’s expression clouded.

“I’m assuming you can use a restoration spell to remove these?” He asked carefully.

Gale nodded.

“Yes, of course.”

Or he could leave them, as he had done last time. His robes would cover them. Perhaps it was unwise to leave himself with open wounds while they were on the road, but he wanted to watch them heal in their own time. Such ridiculous logic was starting to feel reasonable in Gale’s head.

He admonished that thought, it was something to deal with later.

“You’re a rather messy eater though, I would have assumed you’d have more finesse.”

“I do!” Astarion said indignantly, and then more softly, “But I thought you’d prefer it if it hurt.”

There wasn’t much Gale could say to that.

“Apparently, you were right.” He admitted.

Astarion finished cleaning him up and sat back on his heels. Gale wanted to lean back into him, to follow his touch like a magnet. There was no point trying to maintain a dignified front now. Whether it was a strike or a caress, every touch from Astarion felt worth debasing himself for.

“I enjoyed it,” Gale said, “embarrassing though it is to admit.”

“A night spent with me is embarrassing?” Astarion asked, in a tone of mock offence that covered an edge of genuine hurt.

“No, that’s not- that’s not what I meant.” Gale said hurriedly, “Just that I would enjoy such… degrading treatment is embarrassing.”

Astarion’s expression smoothed over into a coy smile.

“There’s no shame in that, darling. You do make an excellent pet,” He fixed Gale with an intense gaze, his voice taking on a dark edge, “and if degradation is what you want, I’m always happy to provide.”