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Baldur’s Gate is the perfect place for lonely people. You get to be just another face in a writhing sea of the broken and those who do the breaking.
The streets are even lonelier at night. Though they don’t have to be, not if you want temporary company.
You’re on your way home, unfortunately for you there’s a particular alley where the usual characters stand, posing in ways most pleasing to the eye for maximum effect. You have to pace fast through the dark to ignore the whoops and whistles, chilled water splashing up over the lip of your boots as you hurry faster. Pitch black turns to dimly lit wet cobblestones to black again; that is until you round the corner and thump right into a pale chest half on show underneath a sheer shirt. Cold fingers linger on your elbows keeping you upright.
“Goodness, Darling” He purrs. “You really should watch where those gorgeous legs are going.”
“Fuck off.” You spit out. A rush of air whips between the two of you as you push him off to the side. He backs up with his hands in the air cool and collected.
“Apologies, pay me no mind… Though you might not want to fuck off so quickly.” Something jingles in his thin fingers, sparking against lamplight.
You look up to see your house keys swaying back and forth. A charming smile breaks out across his chiselled face. He cups the keys in his palm swiftly, bringing the tips of his fingers to the underside of your chin. He turns the planes of your face with little effort. He’s enjoying this, keeping you hooked on his attention.
“What’s a little mouse such as yourself scurrying about in such dark corridors for? Don’t you know there’s predators about?” He pouts his lip as he speaks, babying you with a confident growl.
“Of course I do. I’m staring right at one.” You retort, a little flustered from the interaction but more just pissed off that he has your keys.
He chortles, gasping in air as he finishes. “Very astute of you, little mouse, I could give you a treat for being so very clever. That’s only if you’d like me to.”
His hellish eyes narrow, raking over your frame with a hunger you aren’t sure is entirely about your physical appearance. He releases your chin for now, standing tall to cast you in shadow. You realise now just how close he actually is and the claustrophobia inducing alleyway beside you that he could drag you into.
“I’d rather just have my keys back.” You grumble. Droplets of rain begin irritating your head soon dampening your hair, your eyes flick from him to the alleyway. He follows your gaze slowly, understanding you’re aware of his game.
With a gentlemanly flick of his wrist he coughs up the keys, his hand leers over your smaller palm for just a few more seconds than you’re comfortable with.
“You’re cute… you know.” He tilts his head, a tightly coiled curl falling over his brows. “I’d love to have you without the need for shiny coins lining my pocket afterward.”
“I know your type. Freak .” He frowns as you speak. “Pull people like me in and then take them for all they’ve got, I’d rather not be another statistic.”
“Darling… I’m hurt. On my honour, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” The sarcasm in his tone bounces playfully while he feigns offence.
Your face reddens when he flashes you a toothsome grin. He’s a shark, smelling the blood in the water immediately and he reacts; not wasting a single moment to fluster you.
“Why don’t you and I go somewhere private. Less cold? ” He spiders his way up your arm, teasing strands of hair between his fingers. The rain picks up, soaking the two of you.
“Look.” You take in his features. He looks so gaunt and helpless. Maybe he’s giving you all this show just to have a warm bed to sleep in. You wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t such a dick . You steady your breath. “I know you’re just playing some game to get money, I’ve helped people before… If you just need a bed to sleep in for the night then I can give you that.”
The act drops, he softens his tone. Those eyes once darkened turning a lighter cherry red in the streetlight, droplets bouncing off his stately nose and precious curls.
“I’d like that… Yes.” He’s eager but gentle, he trusts you. “Lead on.”
A few more streets and hurried sopping wet footsteps later and you’re finally back in familiar territory. The key scratches at the lock as you attempt to open it. It’s so fucking cold. He helps you, taking the metal from between the pale ends of your fingertips to twist the key. For the first time since you’ve found him, you feel like he’s not messing with you. You can tell with the way he motions you inside with a chivalrous wave of his arm.
The house is deathly silent only broken by the patter of tiny paws on tile. Your very spoiled cat wanders to you looking ready to greet you but greets the stranger instead. It stops you in your tracks. They never trust strangers.
“She likes you…” You comment, a little annoyed.
“She’s a woman of taste.” He chuckles, patting the side of her stomach.
“I don’t always bring in strays.” A smile worms its way across your face watching them interact. He lifts his head to meet your gaze, he looks more relaxed now that he’s inside. Your cat decides she’s had enough and saunters off to another room. “She usually hates people, but… there’s something about you…”
Your words trail off, he notices, the back of your neck suddenly feels very warm. To stop the spread you bring your cool hand to it, enmeshing the hair between your fingers. He steps forward, those stupid pretty soaked curls stuck to his forehead while he stares. He chuffs moving closer as your bag slumps against the floor. Before you can breathe he’s pressed up against you, feeling over your wet clothes with a practised care.
“There’s something about you too…” He whispers, threading his fingers with yours; waltzing you backward. “Not just anybody would help a wretch like me.” He pushes his hips between yours, lifting you up the wall with his weight. Your heart pounds in your ears.
Your eyes trail over his toned body, enhanced by the way his clothes stick to his chest and his legs. That’s when you notice fishnets underneath his trousers high up his midriff. Adrenaline kicks in, you pull him in by his jawline kissing him with a bravery you didn’t know you had. It feels right. He returns the sentiment tasting you eagerly. Each huff of air between the two of you grows hotter and hotter, soon outweighing any chill in your bones.
You exhale sweetly as he explores under your shirt, gripping at any flesh he’s able to find. You shove him back, he doesn’t protest sitting back on the wooden steps of your home, clinging to the bannister.
“Forgive me… Did I…? Should I go?” He panics, worrying if he’s upset you. He doesn’t want this to end.
You hurry after him, tugging at the freezing buttons that hold his trousers together. His breath becomes heavier the more you touch him, every worry melting the more you reveal. Underneath he’s unashamedly not wearing anything but the fishnets. His length proudly presents itself trying to break free of the mesh. You grip him firmly, looping it through a gap just under his belly button, he gasps from the cold against his skin, almost enjoying it. His head leans back against the hardwood accentuating his broad neck and collar bones.
You palm his knee leaning downward to take him in your mouth, soon leaving no room for error when he pushes his hips towards you and groans, unclenching his jaw. He studies you intensely, tightening his chest the more you suck him. Releasing hardy breaths to accompany the sounds of the pockets of air passing the corners of your lips. His foot slips, the bottom of his shoe thudding against the handrail when you take your time padding your tongue up his shaft to tease at his tip.
“Is this how you treat all your strays?” He asks with shallow breath, ears twitching.
You ignore his quip, returning to let him fill your throat. It tastes so sweet you can’t get enough of him, he adores that you’re obsessed . His thumb spreads against the corner of your eye catching a tear before it waters down your cheek. Your shoulders heave forward to have more of him, his fingers work up the side of your head parsing the strands of damp hair over his knuckles. Your breath falters as you lose yourself, bobbing faster just to hear him moan louder. It works. It’s exhilarating; striking lightening up your spine and between your thighs.
“Stop… ha… stop…” The weak words whine out so meekly. You pause half dazed as his length falls from your glossy lips stringing spit from the back of your throat. You scan downward, looking at the mess of saliva and his fluids pooling over his inner thigh.
“Turn around, my sweet…” His authoritative tone stuns you enough to do as he says. You present your back to him. Wasting no time, he feels up your waistline tenderly, curling his fingers over the hem of your trousers to tug them down your thighs.
He guides you down to him, clinging to the edges of your shirt so that the fabric tightens around your shoulders. Your backside feels warm against the wetness of his fishnets, it makes you jolt upward only to be brought back down by a steady hand. Tactfully he prods and pressures you making sure you’re ready enough for him to finally sink inside. You lean against the handrail soaking in the way he feels as he parts you.
“So very tight…” He sighs without thinking twice about what he said. He’ll never know how much the words set you ablaze. What he does know is how eagerly you squeeze him and how serene you sound when you whimper.
He reveres every mark and dimple in your flesh; taking his time to allow you to adjust around his shaft. You murmur, sedated by how good he feels as he delivers powerful thrusts. Fleshy thuds echo in the hallway the more animated you both get. Your fingers press against his knees trying to keep yourself aloft through the strokes. You bark out a hefty moan, he responds in kind, straining out his own groan as he almost climaxes.
Between the brief respite of slower strokes you lick your lips, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows in sync with him. Instinctively you roll your rear against his stomach.
It sets him off.
He springs back into action plunging into you with wild abandon. Your trousers slip down to your calves in the mayhem, freeing a leg to pull it back and rest against his thigh. You cry out, delighted by the exquisite ridges stimulating every muscle that clings to him. His forearms bridge over your shoulder and your stomach tilting you back so that you’re nestled atop his chest.
He sucks in air as you do, spreading his fingers over you. Incapable of keeping still while they discover more of your intoxicating body. His nose finds the crook of your neck, puffing lungfuls of air through his nostrils to caress your skin. Your squeals reaching higher and higher in pitch inspire him to finally choke on his breath and release. Shock sets in when he peels himself from inside you, stringing over your inner thighs and down your knees. Some of it staining as far as the carpet lining the hallway.
You float back against him in the afterglow, comforted by the way his ribcage rises and falls against your spine.
“You… You never did tell me your name, little mouse.” He stammers, kissing your ear affectionately.
“Tav…” You mumble, licking sweat from your top lip. “And yours?”
He nuzzles up against your hair, taking in the scent, sighing the syllables into your ear. “Astarion…”