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Gentlemanly

Astarion isn't pleased with himself that he missed how exhausted Sekh was- but the scent of his blood provides plenty of reason as to why his husband hadn't slept well and was feeling uncomfortable. Good thing Astarion is more than happy to be a gentleman and comfort him.

Kinktober 2024, Day 21: "Period Sex / Blood Kink"

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, menstruation, menstrual sex, blood kink, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, kinktober, kinktober 2024

Astarion flipped a page in his book, curled up on the couch of their living room. Yenna was strapping a dagger to her thigh across the room, looking as if she was preparing to take on all of the Flaming Fists in the city.

“Is it overkill?” she asked, grabbing her cloak and tossing it over her shoulders, hiding most of her weaponry. It wasn’t exactly possible to hide the throwing knives along her chest. The same knives she had taken from the Szarr palace, so many years ago.

“Never,” Astarion said, not even looking up from his book. He flipped another page, heard her huff, before she was pushing the book down so he was forced to look at her.

“Never would have taken you for a bookworm. Seems more Gale’s style.” Astarion clicked his tongue, knowing that Yenna knew a comparison to the wizard would get a rise out of him. Even if Gale was indeed a dear friend.

Having no real response, he closed the book and set it aside, standing up to straighten the girl’s- no, young woman’s cloak. He couldn’t think of Yenna as his little girl forever. She was his height now- she boasted her own scars from her little adventures. She was an entire person, and not just the lost little girl who had run up to Sekh, all those years ago.

“Keep the murder quiet,” Astarion teased, “if Sekh has to sweet talk you out of an arrest again, he’ll be pissed.”

Yenna snorted a little laugh. “There’s no murder planned. Just gotta scare someone a little.”

Astarion frowned. “I could do that for you.” It was true- he and Sekh tried to give Yenna as much autonomy as possible, always had- but they were both more than willing and ready to jump in and handle all of her own problems for her. Even the problems that weren’t technically hers, but those of her friends. As it was, Astarion knew enough that a Flaming Fist had been rather forward and demanding with one of her friend’s older sisters- and Yenna wanted to scare him into his place.

The vampire was quite sure there would be some sweet talking to smooth things over. But after everything with the Netherbrain, Sekh still had Ulder’s ear if it was needed. Not that the drow was very interested in dealing with politics. If anything, he’d let Astarion handle that.

“I can handle it.” Yenna paused, before she reached out, hugged Astarion. “But thank you for offering. As always.” He returned the hug, before Yenna pulled back, giving him a little wave before crossing the room and heading for the door. It was night outside, and Astarion should set about finding himself dinner- but well… what was one more page in his book?

He settled down on the couch again, picking up the book, falling back into the heroine and her overly flirtatious relationship with her newfound party mate, a rather large dragonborn…

*

He lost track of time, in his book- only pulled back to reality when he heard a loud curse, from below. He set his book aside, standing up and stretching, his back pleasantly cracking. Gods, how long had he been absorbed in that book?

He headed for the hatch to Sekh’s workshop and pulled it open, calling down, “Darling? Everything alright?”

He could hear the drow muttering to himself, but didn’t get an answer. A quick climb down the ladder, and he found Sekh within a mess of papers, as if he had dropped one of his many tomes. He was frantically trying to gather up the papers, as a liquid from a broken bottle soaked into some of the pages.

Astarion hurried over without thought, moving to reach for the papers, when Sekh snapped a stern, “don’t!” Astarion paused, retracting his hand, his husband looking up at him from where he was knelt on the floor. “It’s a toxin derived from hook horror saliva, tongue of madness, and a touch of belladonna.”

“And why is it alright for you to touch it?” Astarion asked, rather alarmed, noting that Sekh had some of the liquid on his fingers, from the pages that had been closest to the spill.

The drow offered a sheepish grin. “I’ve been inoculating myself to it.” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose, wanted to be exasperated- but it wasn’t unexpected. Sekh liked to build up a tolerance for the little horrors he created- and wasn’t that just the drow way? Astarion wasn’t even sure the man could be properly poisoned, at this point.

Sekh stood up, setting the dampened papers on his work table and hurrying to gather up the spill with a rag. Once it was contained, he gave Astarion a little nod, and the vampire moved to help pick up the papers that weren’t poison touched.

They were quite old, the parchment feeling brittle between his fingers. Astarion glanced over the writing on one- and found it quite neat, and very much not Sekh’s.

It took Astarion only a moment to realize that the pages were from the old tome Sekh had had, even back in the tadpole days. A book full of his father’s recipes. Something as precious to him as his mother’s short sword.

“Oh darling,” Astairon whispered, glancing at Sekh as he desperately blotted at one of the pages with the corner of a rag. Astarion could see the old ink running, the crease in Sekh’s brows growing. He walked over to the work table, set the dry pages he had on top of the old tome, before he reached out, placed a hand on Sekh’s back. The drow hung his head, letting out an unsteady breath.

“This page is ruined,” he admitted, his voice so sorrow filled it made Astarion’s chest ache. “I had the recipe memorized, I can just… write it down again… but…”

But it wouldn’t be the same. Astarion knew the few things Sekh had of his parents meant the world to him. Astarion couldn’t even blame him- maybe once, in their early days, he might have wanted to mock his sentimentality- but he had grown past that. Just because he couldn’t remember much of his life before Cazador didn’t mean he needed to mock those who had memories to cling to.

“This one should be alright,” Astarion pointed out, as Sekh dabbed at one of the other pages. It seemed only wet around the edge- a few letters smudged, but otherwise intact. Sekh nodded, but his motions seemed stiff. Astarion leaned into him, the hand at his back sliding along to his waist, so he could envelope him in one arm. Sekh leaned against him, and Astarion could see there were dark shadows, beneath his eyes.

He hadn’t noticed them earlier- but then again, he realized he hadn’t seen much of Sekh since that morning. He’d woken before the drow- which was always odd- had brewed him coffee just in time for Sekh to emerge from their bed, looking sleep haggard still. And then he’d been hard at work, down in his workshop. Astarion had chosen to give him space to work and had been enthralled with his book all day.

“Darling, look at me.” Sekh turned his head, glanced up at Astarion’s eyes. “Gods you look exhausted.”

Sekh slumped against him slightly, wiping his hands so roughly on a rag Astarion worried he was going to tear off a layer of skin. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“You should have woken me,” Astarion chided, but gently. He reasoned the drow must have fallen asleep shortly before Astarion himself had woken up. “It’s well past midnight now. Come on, let’s get you to bed. This is cleaned up enough.”

Sekh twisted from Astarion’s hold, shaking his head. “No, I can clean it up. And I need to start drafting another round of the elixir, I only have enough for a few more days.” Sekh raked his hands back his hair, and for the first time, Astarion swore he saw lines, in the corners of his eyes.

He swore his drow had been a bit more… rattled, lately. If he was honest, had been for the past two months- since he’d started taking his little fertility elixir. Astarion couldn’t be shocked by it, it was most likely wreaking utter havoc on his husband’s body, trying to realign so much that Sekh had purposefully disrupted, over the years.

Astarion pulled him back against him, leaned in and nosed at his throat, inhaled the scent of his skin deeply. Sekh squirmed gently, reaching for Astarion’s biceps, muttering, “Are you smelling me?” As if it was strange.

As if it wasn’t something Astarion did all the time- a strange little proclivity that he knew Sekh adored.

Astarion sighed, felt an itch, in his gums, along his fangs. Sekh’s scent had been burned into his brain for years now- earthy, ashy, a touch of an incense like quality from all of the plants he always touched. But lately he swore he could smell changes in him- recently he had simply smelled so good that Astarion had just about lost his mind with desire.

Now, though, there was a hint of blood to him, something that made Astarion hungry.

“I believe,” he offered, lifting his head, “you’re about to bleed, my love.” Sekh groaned over that, pulling from Astarion and mumbling about how that made too much sense. Astarion wanted to reach back out to him, curl him back in his arms, but Sekh was somehow buzzing about, indeed cleaning up the mess despite the fact that it could have been left.

Astarion sighed, knowing better than to try to stop him. His workshop was sacred, after all, in a way. Sekh may have no respect for the divine, but his workshop was a chapel to a god he could worship- experimentation. Knowledge.

“Compromise with me,” Astarion said, as Sekh gathered up the toxin soaked rag and balled it up, so that the broken glass and poison were all contained. “Clean up as you like, I won’t get in your way- but when you’re done, come up to bed and let me lull you to sleep. You need some rest, after all.”

Sekh hesitated only a moment, before he nodded. Astarion gave him a soft smile, before he left him to his fussing, climbing up the ladder. He headed upstairs to their bedroom, taking the time to pull the blankets down, arrange the pillows so that Sekh could nestle into them easily. He even moved a few of the plants about- trying to minimize the glow in the room. Perhaps he’d take them from the room, just for the night…

He heard Sekh when he was finally making his way up the stairs- heard the sound of the bathroom door, the drow taking time to ensure his hands were washed free of his toxin. Astarion picked up one of the large vases, holding it to his chest as the large flowers in it seemed to shift, leaning towards him, casting the faintest pink glow- the sort that matched the dye Sekh used to use in his hair.

It was oddly nostalgic, in a way Astarion hadn’t realized he could experience yet.

He was still holding the plant when Sekh appeared, in their doorway. “You left your book on the couch,” he said, holding it up, as he noted the plant in Astarion’s arms. “Redecorating?”

“Just trying to make it a bit darker for you.” He set the plant down by the small writing desk on the floor, as Sekh headed for the bed, setting the book down on his own bedside table.

“You were right, by the way,” he said, untucking his shirt. “I am bleeding. Which I… guess is good.” The drow went quiet, before he pulled his shirt off, tossing it aside. Astarion frowned, moving towards him, placing a cool hand on his back.

“My sweet?” he asked, and Sekh just shrugged a shoulder.

“It’s… strange, that something I tried so hard to never experience is now something I need to happen. I just… I guess I don’t know how to feel still.” Astarion leaned his cheek onto Sekh’s shoulder, his other hand moving to Sekh’s belly, thumb rubbing along his navel. Sekh’s own hand covered Astarion’s, gave it a squeeze. “I’m okay, before you ask. I promise. I still want this.”

“I believe you, when you say that. I trust you.” Astarion lifted his head, kissed Sekh’s cheek. “Undress and get in bed. Let me relax you a bit.” Astarion was pleased when Sekh didn’t disagree- simply stepped away to fully strip. Naked, he crawled into the bed, letting Astarion guide him to settle on his belly, so he could snuggle into the pillows. Astarion settled himself along the backs of Sekh’s thighs, straddling them, taking a moment to shamelessly enjoy the muscles that were visible along his husband’s back.

He knew, from experience, where Sekh tended to carry pain during his bleeds. Astarion was nearly tempted to call his menstruation moonblood, as he had just seen in the novel he had been reading-

He must have snorted a laugh, because muffled from the pillows he heard, “what?”

Astarion smiled to himself, reaching out, running his hands up Sekh’s back to grip at his shoulders. “Laughing to myself over the absurdity of something I read earlier.” Sekh gave a little grunt, a simple request for more information, as Astarion worked at his shoulders- not because the stress was there, but selfishly because he wanted to touch them. “The darling little heroine got her, and I do quote, moonblood.”

Sekh groaned, as if he was dying, before he turned his head, so he could speak clearly. “It doesn’t need a fancy name, by the gods.”

“Have to romanticize it somehow, pet.” Astarion dragged his hands lower, over Sekh’s back, to the small of it. He paused, pressed his thumbs in hard, dragging them out towards his hips. Sekh grunted again, pained yet relieved. “Some are quite uncultured and simply miss the inherent beauty of blood in such a lovely place.”

“Lucky for me you’re cultured, then.” Sekh offered a smile, as Astarion repeated his movements, pulling the tension from Sekh’s back and hips. He knew that was where he tended to ache. He squeezed his husband’s hips, before kneading his ass, unable to stop himself. Sekh only chuckled at him, but didn’t stop him. Astarion could just see his cunt from this angle, the faintest bit of red that he could smell-

“With that in mind,” Astarion said, voice going husky, pulling from his chest, “may I show you just how gentlemanly I can be?”

Sekh hummed, thinking on it, before he gave a very subtle nod. Astarion smiled at that, leaned over him to kiss between his shoulder blades, before he climbed off his husband. Instead of guiding Sekh to roll over though, he simply spread his legs, settling between them, grasping at his ass, his thumbs tracing along Sekh’s lips. He parted flesh, could hear Sekh’s hand, flexing in the blanket, twisting it in anticipation, as Astarion’s breath puffed against his pussy.

Gently, Astarion dragged his tongue along his cunt, getting first the heady taste that was simply Sekh- and then, as his tongue reached his entrance, the tang of blood, faintly. He groaned, hadn’t meant to- but Sekh’s menstrual blood was divine, heady in a way his decedent blood usually wasn’t. It brimmed with the possibility of life, made Astarion feel near drunk with only a taste.

He lapped slowly again, over his whole slit, before pushing his tongue in. His head swam, as Sekh lifted his hips slightly, tried to push back against Astarion. The vampire hadn’t fed, and he was realizing that just a taste of his husband was making him feel ravenous. He tried to contain it, but was unable to keep the growl building in his throat down, as he began to fuck his tongue into Sekh.

Sekh braced his forearm on the mattress, lifted himself slightly. If Astarion could see, he’d find a veil of ginger hair flowing around the drow, parting just to show a sliver of his face.

Astarion had to control himself to keep his nails from digging into Sekh’s ass, breaking skin as he held him, drinking directly from his cunt, his fuckling womb, his head swimming. He could hear Sekh panting, felt him squirming a bit, and forced himself to shift his mouth, pull his tongue from Sekh’s entrance to find his clit and tease it. He was doing this for Sekh- and while he knew what his tongue had been doing felt quite good, it wasn’t going to get Sekh off, wasn’t going to pull the tension from his muscles so he could relax.

Sekh groaned, rocking himself back against Astarion’s mouth. Astarion could smell nothing but his excitement, his blood, felt his cock throbbing inside his pants. He canted his hips against the bed, but didn’t look for a rhythm or a path to release- just something to keep his head fuzzy and swimming.

Unable to deny himself again, he moved back to lapping at Sekh’s entrance, enjoying how wet he was, that his blood was a mixture of desire. Sekh whined, but didn’t beg Astarion back to his clit. His tongue speared into him again, and Sekh whined his name- the sweetest sound Astarion had heard all night. He pressed his mouth closer, felt blood and excitement smearing along his nose, his lips, down onto his chin. Seemed the excitement had encouraged Sekh’s blood to flow.

“Asta-Astarion,” Sekh managed, breaths coming ragged. Astarion hummed, pulled back panting, swallowing thickly.

“Shall I keep working you up, or are you ready to come, my sweet?”

There was barely any hesitation, before Sekh whispered, “let me come.” Astarion grinned, before he dove back for his cunt, speared his tongue into him one more time to satiate his own need, before he moved his mouth back to his clit. It was so hard, under his tongue- made it easy to tease, to flick his tongue along it, until Sekh was calling his name, his orgasm leaving his legs shaking.

Astarion stayed at his clit until he knew Sekh’s squirming was from hypersensitivity, and not from his orgasm itself. He intended to move back to his entrance, to lick up all of his desire, but his husband’s legs were shaking far more than usual. Astarion pulled back, carefully guided Sekh to settle on the bed and roll onto his back. Catching a glimpse of him staring at the ceiling with those hazy, satisfied eyes was enough to have Astarion’s chest priming with pride, in his ability to make him feel that good.

He stretched out along Sekh’s side, pressed a bloody kiss to his shoulder. “I’d give you a proper kiss,” he teased, “but I am a bit of a messy eat-”

Astarion’s words cut off when Sekh turned, grasped the back of his neck, and hauled him in for a very bloody kiss. Astarion was stiff, for a moment, as Sekh licked at his lips, before he opened his mouth, melting against his drow, rocking against Sekh’s bare hip, the bulge of his cock obvious.

He felt Sekh smile, against his mouth. “You’re too good to me,” the drow whispered, moving to kiss his jaw. His lips were sticky from his own blood, and Astarion whined over it, over the thought of his man spreading his blood all over Astarion’s milky skin, staining him, painting him. “Take your clothes off,” Sekh breathed, moving to his ear, nibbling playfully at his earlobe. “I don’t want you to be done with me yet.”

Astarion nearly stumbled, hopping up from the bed to eagerly strip, tossing his clothing aside without a care. He had barely finished when he watched Sekh spread his thighs- bloodied now- and reach down between them, two fingers sliding between his lips, easing into himself. “Oh fuck,” the elf managed, choking, as Sekh arched slightly, fingers fully pushed into his sopping cunt.

“I want you inside me,” he admitted, thrusting his fingers lazily. Astarion climbed back onto the bed, between his thighs, watched Sekh pull his fingers free. They were coated in blood, overly slick from Sekh’s own cum. With those bloodied fingers Sekh made a come here motion, beckoning Astarion.

The vampire grasped his hips, lifted them so Sekh’s legs hitched up on his hips, as Astarion eased into him. The vampire groaned, not even half way inside his husband, the sheer wet heat more intense than he was braced for. Sekh sighed, before he pushed himself up, braced by his clean hand, the other reaching for Astarion. He slid his two bloody fingers into his mouth, over his tongue, and the vampire whined, suckled at them greedily, wanting every bit of blood, all of the evidence of Sekh’s orgasm, for himself.

He wasn’t going to last- Astarion knew that, once he had Sekh’s cunt pressed tight to his body. Already his mind was foggy with a growing orgasm- the scent of blood and arousal and sweat enough to drive him to insanity. He said as much, when Sekh pulled his now saliva slick fingers from Astarion’s mouth.

“I don’t need you to last,” Sekh admitted, those wet fingers going for his clit, rubbing over it quickly. “I just need you to give me a few more seconds of bliss.”

Astarion bared his fangs, felt Sekh’s cunt squeezing his cock so eagerly. Lucky for him, he didn’t think his drow would last long, either. He squeezed Sekh’s thighs, eyes shifting from watching him eagerly stroke his clit, to flicking up to his face and the fact that Sekh was watching him with those haunting eyes. His thrusts faltered under that stare, and Sekh only smiled over it, with his bloody lips.

He looked just as much a monster as Astarion knew the world thought he himself was. Gods below, somehow he brought out the feral beast in Astarion in a way that felt so safe, somehow intimate.

Astarion’s gaze softened, as he jerked Sekh’s body to meet his thrust, panted a breathy “I love you,” to him, that had his drow beaming.

“Oh Starshine,” he managed, eyelids fluttering, cunt squeezing Astarion again- his drow on the verge of a second orgasm. “I love you too. More than life.” Sekh hooked one leg from Astarion’s hip to around his waist, pulling him in deep, and in his next breath he was coming around him, head tipping back as he moaned Astarion’s name like a celestial god. Astarion followed, couldn’t stop himself, holding Sekh firmly to him as he came so deep inside him he hoped his very soul could taste it.

As Sekh relaxed into the bed, Astarion lowered himself over him, kept firmly inside him, shifting his hips slightly, even as his cock was beginning to soften. He wasn’t ready to break the contact. “So, did I make you feel better?” he asked, placing a kiss to Sekh’s chin, then his cheek.

Sekh laughed, this little musical sound that had Astarion’s heart skipping a beat. “You did,” he admitted, “thank you.”

Astarion hummed, lowered his head to the crook of Sekh’s neck, choosing to nuzzle into his heated skin, enjoy his scent, the comfort of being this close to him. “Anytime, my love,” he whispered, hoping that Sekh would want more comforting before the night was out. “Anytime.”

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