A silly little shortfic I drafted the other night. No tags from the taglist because this one's just soft, self-indulgent fluff and not as polished as my usual fics.
M/NB | Fluff | Rating: T
Words: ~1.5K
CW: Brief mention of weight changes/food issues/dehydration; brief mention of Astarion's past re: consent; pee mention? Obviously? (No actual pee, though. You're welcome, or I'm sorry, depending.)
It's the party's last night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. They defeated Ketheric/Myrkul at last and will head to Baldur's Gate in the morning as the Shadow-Curse clears, but first, everyone needs to rest. Jamie and Astarion were on a break for much of Act 2 for a few reasons, but their break is ending and they're cuddling in his tent during the nights again. Astarion's feeling sleepy and light and playful, optimistic even, while Jamie's feeling... a need.
Amazing divider made by @echoechowhiskey 🖤
Jamie wiggles again.
"Star, c'mon," they groan through a grin, "lemme up."
Astarion shakes his head, curls flopping around his face that's currently pressed into Jamie's collarbone. "Absolutely not, darling. I am far too comfortable to allow such a thing right now."
Jamie laughs, a soft and sleepy little nighttime version of their usual one. "But you're heavyyy," they whine.
"Excuse me!" Astarion pushes himself up just enough to see their face clearly, to meet their unsettling eyes. The silver one is especially bright in the dark tent. "I'll have you know I am one of the least heavy people in this camp. Or don't you remember Karlach lifting us all one by one the other night? She made it clear that I am perfectly svelte."
One of Jamie's warm hands finds its way to his shoulder and rests there. "Pretty sure the word she used was 'delicate.'"
"Well," Astarion grumbles, returning his head to their chest again, "that's true. I'm delicate and precious and must be allowed to have my way, so my pillow you shall remain."
Jamie chuckles as he leans into them, and their hand starts to rub up and down his back with no apparent intention. His gut coils for a split-second before he reminds himself no, they're not going to slip that hand inside his shirt. No, this touch isn't meant to trap him or claim him. No—if he said "no," if he said "stop," Jamie would. This is only affection. Pure, sweet affection.
"If you let me up, I'll come right back," Jamie says like they're making the offer of the century.
Astarion nuzzles in deeper and their heart picks up the tiniest bit. He can hear their heartbeat without needing to press against them this way, but how wonderful it is to be so near the source. That heart is what keeps their body so warm, what makes cuddling with them such a relief in these shadowed lands. Well, part of it. There are, perhaps, other reasons he appreciates lying flat on top of them like some wretched rolling pin, but those reasons are poetic and dull and why don't we all just focus on the warmth part.
"Even better than coming right back would be not leaving at all," Astarion says. "What could you possibly need out there in real world? This tent has all manner of luxuries."
"Does it now?"
"Of course. It's got blood in it," Astarion says. He doesn't intend for his voice to go so dreamy, but alas, these things happen.
"I got blood in me too," Jamie says.
"Mmm. That you do. You're a little luxury in your own right." Astarion can feel their abdominal muscles clench to restrain their laughter and he wishes they wouldn't hold it back anymore. "More importantly," he continues, "this tent has me in it, and in case you've forgotten, I am very beautiful and interesting. Hells, I'm a banisher of shadows now! And sweet, when I feel like it."
"Do you feel like it tonight?" He didn't earlier, but now Jamie's hand has moved from his shoulder to his hair and he is starting to feel very sweet indeed.
"No," he says anyway. "I'm feeling possessive and needy."
Jamie snorts, and their body shakes with it. "No shit."
"Don't jostle me, you brute."
"I'll show you jostling."
"No, no-" Astarion grips Jamie's sides in preparation. "I'm staying right here. Why do you even want to cast me aside? What's out there that's so tempting?"
Jamie evidently decides not to try throwing him off just yet. "Nothing," they say. "I gotta do it, I don't wanna do it."
"What, precisely, is 'it'?" They squirm beneath him and start to speak, but Astarion lifts his head again and shamelessly interrupts. "Wait. You can breathe, can't you? I'm not... hurting you?"
"Nah," Jamie says. "Not hurting me. Look." They take an unnecessarily deep breath, a full gulp of air through their mouth, and their chest rises so dramatically Astarion is lifted several inches higher off the floor.
"Alright, alright! Put me down, please. Hells." He falls back into his position as Jamie breathes out. "So what is it that you 'need' to do so badly out there in the cursed miasma?"
"Uh. Human stuff."
"Good job you're merely half-human, then," Astarion says. "Perhaps you can put off this mysterious task twice as long."
"I've been putting it off," Jamie says, wiggling once more. "I don't think I can wait much longer."
What could they be talking about? Astarion would let them up if they truly had something important to fuss with, but he can't fathom what that might be. The others are all asleep by now, or they damn well should be, so it's not like Jamie has leader business to take care of. The animals are fed; Halsin made a grand show of caring for them earlier, and Shadowheart and Jamie helped hand-feed the beasts from their own plates. Jamie's eaten, too... though if they're hungry again, well. Astarion could hardly begrudge them that. They've only just begun to fill out where once they were nothing but bone.
"Is it food you need? Water?" he asks. "You ought to drink more water, by the way. Gale keeps telling me this. He says you're dehydrated."
"I don't wanna talk about water right now," Jamie says. Their voice has gone slightly higher.
"Oh? What's water done to deserve the cold shoulder? I'm told you require it. Every day, even."
"Uh, nothing in specific," Jamie says. They've started tapping the back of his head with one hand, which is exceptionally annoying but almost effective at motivating him to move. "Get up, Star, I'll be right back to cuddle. Just lemme take two seconds out there."
"To do what?" Astarion asks again.
"I- nothing..."
"Well if it's 'nothing,' I shan't be moving."
"You're annoying. You know that?"
"I've heard that before, yes."
Jamie holds their breath for five seconds, ten, then releases it all at once. Finally, they reveal their secret, the mission that's had them pestering him for several minutes now.
"...I gotta piss, Astarion!"
Oh.
Oh!
"Well then!" Astarion rolls off of them, lying on his back now, and tries not to cringe at the loss of heat. They sit up as he frees them, and he looks up at their poor distressed face. "Right. Why didn't you just say so? I'd forgotten all about that little function."
"That's why I didn't want to say it! 'Cause I gotta go find someplace to squat in the woods and you never have to do stuff like that," Jamie mumbles.
They're fighting off the bedroll, which seems even more desperate to cling to them than Astarion was, wrapping around their legs as they struggle.
Astarion bites a lip to keep from laughing again. "You can hardly blame me. It's easy to forget that someone who felled Myrkul and his crusty old servant with their very blood needs to bother with mortal things."
"Wish it was easy for me to forget," Jamie says. "This is Gale's fault, really, makin' me drink all that damn water. When I get back, you have to pretend this never happened, okay?"
"Come now. If it helps, try to remember that my, ah, situation is the one that's unusual, not yours," Astarion offers.
Jamie's finally liberated themself from the bedroll and tries to stand upright in the tent. They're hardly tall, but they still graze the top of their head on the ceiling, swear unnecessarily, and crouch again with the most adorable pout.
"Don't even," they tell him. "You love not having to do gross mortal-people things. You're a proper, pretty elf who doesn't have to piss in the shadow-cursed woods."
"Ha. I was trying to be nice to you, but you know me too well," Astarion says, stretching luxuriously. "But I do promise that I forgive your non-vampiric defects."
Jamie winks and turns away. Shit, it's cold out there; the rush of air that swoops in when Jamie lifts the tent flap is decidedly unpleasant. The druid said the Shadow-Curse will clear soon now that Ketheric's truly, properly dead, and in Astarion's opinion, "soon" cannot come soon enough. He reaches for the blanket Jamie abandoned and wraps it around himself before they're fully outside.
"You better save some blanket for me," Jamie tells him once they're through, stage-whispering to keep from waking the others. "My ass is gonna be half-frozen when I get back."
"Perhaps literally," Astarion muses. "What a shame that would be. I rather enjoy that part of you. Do keep it safe out there, dear."
A hand pops back through the tent flap making a very rude gesture, and Astarion does allow himself to laugh this time, even in the silence with no one to see. He burrows deeper into the bedroll and listens to Jamie's footsteps quieten as they search for somewhere to relieve themself.
He'll be here when they get back. Hopefully they won't need to squirm as much, so he can hold them tighter.
We agree vampires probably don't need to piss, right? But half-elves do?? Right??
Anyway I read recently that if you don't cringe while writing your fanfic you're not doing it right. I must've done this one very right, then 😆
Content warnings: mentions of operations and surgery, top surgery and bottom surgery, scarring, body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria, poor self-esteem, lack of support networks, trauma, abuse, grooming, and more. These will be updated as I go.
Summary: You were out shopping for post-operative supplies and clothing when you were abducted by the nautiloid. You form alliances with fellow tadpoled individuals, but it is the human wizard with the sad cow eyes that has peaked your interest.
Tagged lovelies: @whiskeyskin @optimisticgrey @moonraevn @ashprince-of-bel-air (let me know if you want to be on/off this list!)
AO3 link
Chapter 1: New Beginnings
You open your eyes groggily, squinting against the bright sunshine, and for a moment, you think it was a bad dream. Of course there was no nautiloid. Of course you weren’t kidnapped by mind flayers, and dragged to Avernus and back.
Then you feel the hideous squirming behind your right eye, and you remember.
You try and stand up, but it’s too much movement too fast, and you end up on your hands and knees, vision spinning, so you flop unceremoniously back down again.
You try to remember before the mind flayers appearance. What were you doing? Where were you?
Glancing down at your clothing, you see that you are wearing loose, flowing trousers, tied with laces at your waist, with a white billowing shirt tucked in, its own laces left untied. It’s comfortable.
Your pre-surgery outfit.
You were on your way to buy some more comfortable clothes, because your surgery had been moved up, and more of these loose-fitting clothes were going to be a necessity while you recovered, while the clerics healed you back up again.
Last time, you had only been off your feet for a day or two, after your top surgery, so you hadn’t needed a large supply of recovery clothing, going straight back to your favourite leather armour the next day. But this surgery would be more involved, and you would be needing to stay nearby to the clerics for at least a week, instead of running straight back into the forests not even 24 hours after surgery.
That was why you were in Baldurs Gate and not in the forest you called home, to buy more casual clothes so that your recovery would be as easy as possible. You didn’t want to have to ask the clerics to wash your clothes for you, and you didn’t exactly have anyone else to do it for you, so that left the last resort option of simply having enough changes of clothes that you could wash it all afterwards. At least you could donate what you didn’t need after the surgery was done, perhaps leave it with the clerics so they had some spare clothing for patients, you had rationalised to yourself.
But instead of getting ready for surgery, you had been taken, and a surgery of a very different nature had occurred. Instead of reclaiming your body as your own, your ownership of your own self was diminished even further, with the addition of a mind flayer tadpole to your skull.
Slower this time, you rise to your feet, and take a few calming breaths, before you start to try and figure out where in Toril you were. Inspecting the local flora, you quickly ascertain you are, in fact, still in Faerûn, and not too far away from the Gate, you reckon. A few tendays walk, at most. You would need supplies, though, not to mention help to determine what had been done to you and how to fix it.
If it can be fixed, your brain adds.
You shake the thought away, and follow the beach down, before spotting someone laying motionless.
Crouching next to them, you recognise their face; they were on board the nautiloid as well. You consider letting them rest, but your anxiety is worsening by the second, and you really hope they might have answers, so you gently shake them by the shoulders.
“Hey, are you ok? You were on the ship as well, right?” You ask tentatively.
They open their eyes and meet your gaze. “Yes, I was. I’m assuming you have a tadpole—“
Before they can finish their thought, your mind lurches uncomfortably, and without warning, you are looking out of eyes that aren’t yours. They are a lot shorter than you, and as you watch, you see your lifeless body being stuffed into a pod by two mind flayers.
Startled, you step back, and the connection breaks, bringing you back to the present.
“What was that?” They ask.
“I was hoping you could tell me.” You mumble back, still disoriented from the ordeal.
“We need to find a healer. And fast. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to find out what happens next with these things.”
They jump up, and offer you their hand. “The name’s Shadowheart.”
“River,” you respond, taking her hand to help you stand up. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” she says, patting her pockets down, then turning around in a panic, spotting something a little ways down the beach. She runs to the object, picks it up, checks it over, and puts it into her backpack.
You think about asking what that was, but you’re still feeling woozy, and figure if it was important or relevant, she would mention something.
~•~•~•~•~
Together, you follow the path inland, past some intellect devourers, which you sneak your way past, and towards some shouting up the hill.
When you turn the corner, you see two tieflings with a githyanki in a wooden cage, suspended in the air. From where you are, you can make out a disagreement between the tieflings as to what to do with the gith. Shadowheart places a hand on your shoulder, and shakes her head.
You decide to step in anyway, and shake off Shadowheart’s hand.
After convincing the tieflings using your ranger knowledge that more githyanki would be coming soon, pointing to some humanoid tracks in the mud as proof, they take off, leaving the githyanki behind.
You try to look for a way to lower the trap, but the githyanki punches their way through the floor and lands on their feet.
“Tsk’va, what now?” They turn to look at you.
“We should be asking you the same question” Shadowheart steps out from behind you, scowling.
“Hey, wait—“ you start to try and intervene, but are cut off by another horrendous lurch. You are watching red dragons, mounted by armour-clad Gith, ride through the skies of Avernus in pursuit of a nautiloid ship. This ship, you realise, as your body turns without your input, and you are knocked out by a mind flayer.
“So you were on the ship as well,” you ask. “I’m sorry” you add hurriedly, spotting the disgust on the gith’s face.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. It was not you who took me from my people, knocked me unconscious, and inserted a tadpole into my brain, was it?” They answer.
When they don’t continue talking, you realise they might be waiting for an answer. “Um..no?”
“Then don’t apologise.” They say, before turning on their heels and walking off down the path.
“Hey, wait! We’re going to try and find a cure, a fix for this. Do you want to stick together?” You call after them, but they are already gone.
“It’s for the best, you cannot trust a githyanki with anything, especially not your life,” Shadowheart snarks, before heading in the opposite direction.
You trail on her heels, for once in your life not wanting to be alone.
~•~•~•~•~
You nearly slam straight into Shadowheart as she stopped dead in her tracks, and you were too lost in thought to notice.
“What’s that?” She asks, her voice barely a whisper.
You follow her gaze and spot a glowing rune on the wall, much like those found across Faerûn. Except this one is partially covered by a swirling vortex.
Before you get a chance to answer, a hand appears in the middle of the vortex.
“Hello? A hand? Anyone?” A voice echoes.
You inspect the hand for a moment. They looked soft, with olive-toned skin and carefully manicured nails.
Shrugging at Shadowheart, you think to yourself, what’s the worst that could happen?
The hand is toasty warm, and as soft as it looked. Whoever this hand belongs to must not do much manual labour, you think, suddenly self-conscious of your calloused, rough hands.
You pull, and out of the vortex tumbles a human, of all things. A human that lands on top of you.
“Oof… hello!” The human cheerfully greets you, and takes your hand again, helping you to your feet, before shaking your hand enthusiastically. “I’m Gale, of Waterdeep.”
You meet his eyes, and feel faint for the fourth time today. Unlike the other times, this one doesn’t feel tadpole-related. Your head feels fine. Your heart, however, is racing, and you feel your palms start to sweat. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“Say, I know you, don’t I? In a manner of speaking. You were on the nautiloid as well!” Gale gestures to his head, clarifying “I assume you too were on the receiving end of a most unwelcome occlusion of the ocular region?”
You realise that you haven’t let his hand go, and drop it like burning hot coals. Not trusting your voice, you nod, and are grateful when Gale continues to talk.
You like his voice, you think.
Hang on a moment, you chastise yourself. Gale’s lecture on ceremorphosis snapped you back to reality, and the realisation that you are gushing over him like a schoolchild with a crush. You have much higher priorities than imagining what those soft hands would feel like massaging your scalp, your shoulders, chasing the tension away…
Although, there is no sense in alienating a potential ally, your treacherous brain adds. He could be a powerful ally at that.
Before you can second-guess yourself further, you blurt out “come with me.”
Gale blinks, and to his credit, he smiles. “Where did you have in mind?”
Shadowheart takes one look at you, rolls her eyes, and explains your quest for a healer and a cure for your tadpoles. Gale agrees it would be best to stick together, and the three of you set off.
~•~•~•~
Gale wouldn’t be the last of your new allies. After being threatened at knifepoint, a very pale elf with bright red eyes named Astarion agreed to join your search, having also received a tadpole.
Shadowheart seemed enamoured with the man, not that you were judging, of course. You were in no position to do so.
Your mind kept drifting to the wizard in your party. You tried to stay focused, you really did, but the situation became more dire still when he had defended you against Astarion. He’d only known you about half an hour, and he already threatened anyone who lay a finger on you.
You tried not to read into it.
Emphasis on tried.
Soon, night fell, and you found yourself laying awake under the stars, unable to sleep.
Your mind was still racing. One moment, you’re shopping and doing pre-operative preparations, the next flying through Avernus on an illithid vessel, then you awaken on a beach, meet some allies, and finally…
Him.
Hells.
As guilty as you felt that you weren’t thinking harder about how to help the group, you needed to take a moment to mourn.
Providing you survive the threat of ceremorphosis, you would still get the surgery. But still, that day is not today, and it likely wouldn’t be tomorrow. What had been a certainty, the sure knowledge that you would only have one more sleep in a body that felt alien to you, had now stretched into countless sleeps.
If you even survive to get the surgery at all.
Fuck. You aren’t going to sleep at this rate. You sigh, and climb out of your bedroll, deciding to go and tend to the fire.
But then, there he is, already taking care of it. You hover, unsure whether to disturb him or to creep away and hope he doesn’t notice you. You decide the latter would be better, but a treacherous twig gives you away.
Gale spins around, before returning his gaze to the fire.
“Go to Hell.”
Your mind short-circuits. He had been so polite earlier, what had changed? What had you done? You were out of practice socialising with people, much preferring the company of the flora and fauna of the forest, but you couldn’t think of anything particularly egregious.
You settle on half-asking, half-stating, “I’m sorry?”
He turns to you again, and smiles another world-ending smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“The expression. Go to Hell. An abstract expression. But we’ve been there, we’ve seen it. That’s not abstract.”
You’re not sure you follow, so you just nod, and let him talk.
“Thanks for listening, River. Good night.”
As he passes you, he pats you on the shoulder. An innocent gesture, but where his hand touches your bare skin, it sends electricity coursing across your torso.
Tags: Trans!Tav, Transmasc!Tav, Tav is stealth, Tav has had top surgery, Tav has had no bottom surgery, Pan!Astarion, everyone is anxious, and traumatised, angst, fluff, dysphoria, Trans affirming, (vampire) bite kink, I have a thing for fangs clearly, (im)proper use of tadpole mind-link, bratting begging, orgasm control
Oh gods, the consequences of my own actions, Tav thought. Flirting with Astarion had been fun and, honestly, hard not to with how this sassy Elf encouraged it at every opportunity. His dreams, when not taken over by the guardian, had been full of Astarion in all kinds of ways. From romantic picnics to wet dreams to nightmare rejections, Tav'd truly not had a moment's peace since the abduction and the tadpole in his head wasn't even the biggest cause for gods' sake.
And now he was hopelessly tangled in the web Astarion had spun for him. A web which felt so much tighter now that it was clear your favourite vampire wanted to sneak off to the woods to have sex. Most people would probably be ecstatic, but Tav was worried. He had so far avoided any need to disclose he was trans and relished in being treated as just one of the guys. But what would happen when they undressed and he didn't have the parts one might expect? A rational part of him chimed in that surely Astarion had slept with a trans person or two before, but the dysphoria and fear were so much louder.
---
At the same time Astarion was dissociating in his tent, also worried about having sex with Tav. This was all his plan and yet... He'd only ever done this in service of Cazador, bringing people back for him and to their doom. For his plan to work he had to use his body one or two more times and get Tav on his side. Sweet enthusiastic kind Tav who'd shown him he could break Cazador's rules, who'd kept offering him his tasty blood even though he'd practically attacked him that first night.
Maybe Tav would help him if he just asked? No, no one trusts a vampire, not truly. Tav must be doing it because it made him stronger. And because the poor Elf boy was falling for his seduction like so many before him. But then why did his heartbeat spike in fear at his proposition? Oh hells, could Tav be a virgin?! He had better be gentle, after all, he had to keep Tav on his side at least until he could have his revenge on Cazador.
---
And so when Tav finally walks up to the clearing with legs made of jello and a stomach ready to cast acid splash he is greeted by a shirtless Astarion whose smug look falls off his face in seconds. He rushed to cup Tav's face. "Are you alright darling? this seems like more than the normal amount of nerves," he muses.
Fuck, Tav thought, if he hadn't asked I could've just held it in. Instead tears well up and he starts shaking. "I-", his voice cracks, "Iliedtoyou", he blurts out. Well, it's not inaccurate, but gods is it a terrible way to start this conversation.
"Wha- what do you mean?", Astarion asks, "do you not want this? me?" Although it's subtle, a twang of pain slips out on that last word. The plan can't fall apart already! Did he push too much? Picked the wrong target? Hells why does nothing ever go his way.
No words seemed right, his head too loud to think, and time ever ticking on, Tav did something most likely stupid: He kissed Astarion, catching them both by surprise. Though when they regained the ability to think he found himself pushed away by Astarion.
"What in the hells are you doing, you better start making a lot of sense real fast" Astarion exclaimed. Tav wiped away his tears and took a small step back. "I'm sorry, I do want this- you- us." He stuttered. "But?" Astarion asked. "But I'm trans."
"Gods, is that all? Here I was worried it was something like you being..." He trailed off clearly catching himself about to say something he didn't want to admit, "some monster using a disguise spell or something".
Well, that wasn't the reaction he expected. "So you don't mind that I don't have the parts one might expect on a guy?" Tav asked, his voice already steadier. "My darling boy, I am well versed in all configurations, you needn't worry your pretty little head over something like that," Astarion said reaching out and petting Tav's hair gingerly.
With relief washing over him Tav felt ready for tonight for the first time and while their first kiss hadn't been ideal there were hopefully many more to have tonight. "So do you still wanna do this?" He asked sheepishly, not having enough courage to press his lips to Astarion's again without an invitation.
"Of course, I clearly need to create better memories for you than whoever or whatever made you worry so" Astarion spoke in that same sensual whispery tone he always used. He placed Tav's hand gently on his chest and cupped his face with the other pulling him in for a kiss. At first slow and gentle and then hungrier, fangs dragging across Tav's bottom lip.
Astarion gently tugs at his shirt and Tav lifts his arms to help get it off. A few more chaste kisses before Astarion starts trailing them down Tav's neck and chest, giving special attention to the ageing crescent scars, on his way to where pants now block his path.
In wordless command, Astarion tells Tav to strip and lay down, getting undressed himself while watching intently. "I'd like to taste you", he purrs, "may I?". With a small chuckle, Tav replies "You've tasted my blood before, Astarion~". Rather than answer Astarion got on his knees and pulled Tav closer.
He kissed and nibbled the inside of Tav's tighs first, enough to leave a mark but never to draw blood. It was torturously slow and it dawned on Tav what his plan was. He was going to have to beg, wasn't he? Fuuuuuck, maybe he should've just said yes, he thought, but then I wouldn't have had this...
If Tav thought it was bad then he was wrong. As Astarion got close to Tav's pulsing wet pussy he made sure to let his breath pass over the sensitive parts screaming to be touched and nothing else always going just around, waiting.
"Astarion-", Tav breathed, "please", arching his back looking desperately for friction. "Ah ah ah, say it," Astarion grinned, "tell me what you want." He then stopped his teasing touches completely to look up at Tav from between his legs.
Tav couldn't look at him as he spoke "Taste me, touch me, fuck-" , but something made him look directly in those deep red eyes as he pleaded "please, Astarion, I need you". And gods was he rewarded. Finally, those lips went from torture to pleasure and Tav couldn't help but moan.
Astarions tongue skillfully hitting his clit in an almost hypnotic pattern was driving Tav mad. However, the insecurities crept back in as they tried to convince him that Astarion couldn't possibly see him as a guy right now. Who could when they had a mouth full of pussy and heard the high-pitched moans no voice training could change.
Just as all the built-up pleasure was sinking away a voice pierced the loudness in his mind. "Bad boy~" The instant heat roaring through his whole body blew away the doubts as just those words said oh so dominantly. "Stay right here with me and just feel" Astarion added as he lightly grazed Tav's sensitive folds with his fangs.
What could Tav do but obey? He was safe in Astarion's mouth and hands and those were skilled indeed. Spurred on by Tav's renewed enjoyment and pleased with his new tadpole party trick Astarion upped his tempo and started alternating between licking, sucking and gently nibbling at the clit. Until, finally, when he felt how close Tav was giving him one final command: "Come for me, pet."
Tav came, hard, crying out Astarion's name. He felt miles away while Astarion savoured the taste of his success. The sexy bastard was still licking his lips when Tav started coming down into his body again. When he met Astarion's gaze the vampire spoke, out loud, "Such a good boy for me~". And that was the last push Tav needed before he got to his knees and pushed astarion over and onto his back. "Fuck you," he growled. "I just did, darling~," Astarion replied, smirking.
Seeing him laying there so casually, erection standing tall, eyes still hungry in a way that was so different from when he wanted his blood was not something Tav could've prepared for. But boy was he going to make use of it. And if that was part of Astarion's plan he didn't care, he was having fun and felt safe, so why not?
Tav gracefully crawled over Astarion and tasted himself on Astarion's lips. A hand found its way into his hair as the kissing turned passionate and downright dirty. The perfect time to stealthily line up and instantly sink down on his dick. The moan that elicited was oh so sweet and left those fangs he knew so well perfectly on display... Tav couldn't help but give a little squeeze.
In response, Astarion quickly buried his teeth into Tav's neck and started thrusting ferally. Whether intentional or not, the familiar tinge of the mind link sent raw words and feelings straight gay to Tav who sent his in return to create a feedback loop of pleasure and desire as they rode and fucked each other in animalistic instinct. Neither of them lasted long before they climaxed together and collapsed in contentment.
