Chapter Text
astarion
“Is that everything?”
Astarion sat down on his now-bare mattress with a sigh, looking around his nearly-empty apartment. Standing next to the dresser, Gale was taping the final box shut with a flourish.
“I hope so,” Astarion drawled, leaning back on his hands. “Gods. Is it terrible that I’m going to miss this place?”
Gale paused, shaking his head. “No. Not at all.”
“This was -” He stopped, getting to his feet and wandering over to the sliding glass doors, peering through the fogged panes of glass. “This was the first place I had felt safe in years,” he murmured.
Gale came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on his shoulder. “Of course you’re going to miss it, then,” he said reasonably. “This was yours.”
Astarion sagged against him, leaning his head back and tilting so he could look at Gale. “How in the absolute hells do you just…understand me?”
“I don’t know. It’s surely nothing to do with the fact that we’ve been together for months now.”
Astarion elbowed him lightly, chuckling. He went quiet, thinking, before he said, “Half the time I don’t even understand myself these days. I suppose it’s good I have you around to translate.”
“I’m translating you for you?”
“Yes, darling.”
Gale snorted with laughter, turning Astarion around in his arms to kiss him. “Don’t worry. I’ll translate for you as much as you need.”
“Well, thank the gods for small mercies,” Astarion said, returning the kiss. “Shall we?” He gestured at the pile of boxes in the middle of the floor, giving Gale a rueful grin.
“Probably a good plan.”
“No, the good plan was moving your stuff first since you actually had furniture.”
“You’ve got furniture,” Gale protested.
“Love, my furniture consists of a card table for my sewing machine and a plastic crate I used as a night stand.”
“That still counts,” Gale insisted. “But we probably should consider getting you a better table. I’m honestly not sure how that thing hasn’t fallen over.”
Astarion shrugged. “It’s done well enough for the last year or so.”
Gale smiled at him, picking up a box. “Shall we?”
“We shall, darling.”
~~~***~~~***~~~
gale
Gale thumped the last box down in the living room before collapsing onto the couch with a groan. “I’m too old for this,” he told Astarion, who was looking more disheveled than he’d ever seen him.
“Me too, darling,” Astarion said, crashing down on the couch next to him and running a hand back through his sweaty hair, making a face. “Gods. I must look like a complete and total disaster.”
“I think we’ve both probably looked better,” Gale grumbled. From what he could tell, his hair wasn’t much better than Astarion’s. They were both sweaty, dusty, and clearly not meant to be movers. Astarion even had a smudge of dirt on one cheek; Gale took a moment to lean forward and wipe it off.
“Ah, thank you, love,” Astarion said, patting his hand. He leaned his head back against the couch, rolling to look around the room. “You know, I like this place,” he mused.
“I do too,” Gale agreed.
He really did. It had been a panicked week of searching online and visiting various places without much luck.
Then Astarion had called him, saying, “Love, I think I found the perfect place. Can you get over here?”
Gale had fallen in love with the place the second he laid eyes on it. It was half of a duplex in an old brick building, with dark wooden floors and an abundance of windows for natural light. Astarion had dragged him inside by the hand, through the tiny entryway and into the living room, where he stopped and gave Gale the most shit-eating grin ever.
One entire wall was nothing but floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, just waiting to be conquered.
“That’s not all,” Astarion said, pulling him down the short hallway. “Look. One bedroom here - this one is the small one, but I could use it as a workshop - and then this.” He opened the door at the end of the hall, smiling.
“When can we move in?” Gale asked, peering into the bedroom. There was a small window seat area on one wall, and more bookshelves built in on the far wall.
“I thought you’d like it,” Astarion told him.
“I love it,” he told him sincerely, leaning in to kiss him. “Seriously. When can we move in?”
The real estate agent - a young girl with long, pink-tinted hair - jumped to attention. “Next week, if everything is approved,” she told them earnestly.
Gale glanced at Astarion, who was holding his arm. “Yes?” he asked Astarion.
“Yes.”
“All right, then.”
~~~***~~~***~~~
astarion
Astarion rummaged in a box in the kitchen, finally extracting his beloved “#1 Bridesmaid” mug, as well as a mug emblazoned with cats. He filled both with water, carrying them back into the living room and slouching back down on the couch with Gale.
“I have no idea where anything is,” he told Gale, handing him the cat mug. “That includes Tara.”
Gale snorted, taking a sip of water. “The last I saw her, she was hiding in the closet in your workshop.”
“Gods. She’s going to try to attack all my work, isn’t she.”
“Possibly.”
Astarion sighed, wrinkling his nose. “I suppose that is why I have a door.”
Gale hummed in agreement, looking out at the mess in front of them. He turned to look at Astarion, saying, “I propose a deal.”
Astarion raised his eyebrows. “Go on, darling.”
“One of us goes out to get pizza, the other attempts to find the sheets and make the bed. Bonus points for finding soap so we can take a shower.”
“I’ll tackle the sheets, darling,” he cooed.
“You just don’t want to go back out.”
“Exactly.”
Gale tapped his foot against Astarion’s, smiling. “Fine. Pepperoni?”
“And breadsticks?” he asked hopefully.
“Done.”
A few minutes later, Gale left, leaving Astarion standing alone in the middle of the living room, which was stacked high with boxes.
“Right. Sheets,” he muttered, poking at the boxes. He moved a stack of boxes to his workshop, and moved several more to sit in front of the bookshelves in the living room before he finally located a box labeled ‘bed crap’.
Astarion sat back, looking at the boxes and chuckling. It was pretty easy to tell who had packed what; Gale’s boxes were neatly labeled with things like “Books - Fiction - A - G”, while Astarion’s were more…impressionistic. He managed to find a box that read “water box shit” and had to assume that meant “shower”, wondering briefly what part of his brain had malfunctioned to produce that particular wording.
He toted the boxes down the hall, dropping them on the floor in the bedroom with a sigh. He took a moment to stretch; it had been a good while since he’d done anything this physical, and the skin on his back was near-screaming at him by now. He thought for a moment, pulling off his sweat-damp t-shirt, hoping that would help.
Astarion said a silent thanks that they had at least assembled the bed earlier; he set to making it, smoothing dark purple sheets down over the mattress with a pale hand. He stacked pillows at the head of the bed, smiling when he heard a questioning chirp from the doorway. Tara was peeking in before slowly slinking her way towards him.
“Hello, darling,” he greeted her, scratching her behind the ears. She rubbed against his legs, weaving around them several times before leaping onto the bed, where she immediately wound herself into a furry knot and closed her eyes.
“Make yourself comfortable, by all means,” he told her, before pulling open the second box and nodding when he was greeted by bottles of shampoo and several half-empty body washes. He carried them into the bathroom, putting them on the edge of the tub. And then he took a moment to admire the tub; it was honestly the biggest selling point to him, personally. Huge, claw-footed, deep, and old; he was in love with the damn thing and he hadn’t even taken a bath in it yet. He had a sneaking suspicion, though, that he and Gale would both fit, and he thoroughly planned on exploring the possibilities.
That done, he headed to his soon-to-be workshop, standing in the middle of the tiny room and turning in a slow circle.
He’d never even dreamed of having a dedicated room to work in.
There was yet another set of built-in bookshelves on one wall, just waiting for him to fill them with fabric and sewing notions. Astarion unfolded his trusty card table, tucking it into a corner and setting his dressmaker’s form next to it.
Astarion heard rattling from the front door, followed by Gale calling, “Astarion?”
“Coming, love!”
He made his way down the hall, smiling at the sight of Gale settling the boxes onto the stovetop. “I don’t suppose you know where the plates are?” He did a double-take at Astarion’s lack of shirt before shrugging and continuing his hunt.
“I think there’s some in the box I got the mugs out of,” Astarion said, pointing.
“Right you are,” said Gale cheerfully, pulling out several of Astarion’s mismatched plates. “What’s with the plates?” he asked, looking curious.
“Oh. I used to just pick them up from the thrift store when I found one I liked for a quarter or so. So I just have a ton of weird, mismatched dinnerware and silverware,” he said apologetically.
“I like it,” said Gale, leaning it to press a kiss to his temple. “It’s eclectic.”
Astarion grinned at him, catching him around the waist and pulling him in for a kiss. “Is that a nice way of saying my style is chaotic?”
“Yes.”
They both helped themselves to pizza and breadsticks before settling down on the couch.
“I’m starving,” said Astarion, taking a generous bite out of a breadstick.
Beside him, Gale was attempting to contain an overly-aggressive cheese pull and failing; mozzarella was tangling in his beard. Astarion reached out, tugging the offending bit loose and making Gale laugh.
“I think,” Astarion started. “We should finish our pizza and then take a bottle of wine to the bathroom and break in that giant claw-foot tub.”
“I think that sounds like a marvelous idea, my love,” Gale said. He paused, looking thoughtful, and then asked, “By the way, what happened to your shirt?”
“Sweaty and my back was hurting. I took it off in hopes that it would help,” he explained.
“Oh,” Gale murmured, nodding. “Of course. Did it help?”
“Not really,” he said, sighing.
“Maybe the bath will help,” said Gale earnestly.
Astarion smiled at him, propping his bare feet up on a box he had dragged over. This had been a good idea.
Or, that’s what he was going to keep telling himself, anyways.
~~~***~~~***~~~
gale
Gale finished off his pizza and got to his feet, depositing their plates in the sink and putting the rest of the food in the fridge. That done, he turned to Astarion, who had melted into the couch.
“All right there, Astarion?”
“Mmm-hmm. Have I ever mentioned that your couch is one of the ugliest I’ve ever seen, and also one of the most comfortable I’ve ever sat on?”
“A few times.”
“Thought so.”
“Give me a few minutes and then join me?” Gale asked, raising a brow at him.
Astarion gave him a downright seductive grin, eyeing him appreciatively. “Of course, love.”
In the bathroom, Gale started the water in the tub, poking around in the box Astarion had left on the counter and adding a generous amount of a citrus-scented shower gel to the water, causing bubbles to fluff up everywhere.
Perfect.
He stripped, sinking down into the tub with a sigh. Astarion poked his head in a moment later, a bottle of wine and the two coffee mugs in his hand.
“I couldn’t find the wine glasses,” he explained, pulling a box close to the edge of the tub and setting everything down before pouring them each a generous amount.
“No matter. I’m always down to drink wine out of a coffee mug.”
Astarion smiled at him, stripping off his remaining clothes and adding them to the pile on the floor before joining Gale in the tub, leaning back against his chest. “Gods, this place was worth it entirely for this tub,” he told Gale, sinking down into the bubbles.
“I think you may be right,” Gale agreed. He wrapped his arms around Astarion, leaning his head back on the edge of the tub. “This is nice,” he murmured. Astarion hummed in agreement, tilting his head back to kiss Gale’s jaw before going for the wine.
They soaked and drank in companionable silence, Gale occasionally dropping kisses across Astarion’s naked shoulders. Astarion was holding his mug in one hand, but the other had been absent-mindedly stroking Gale’s leg, toying with the hair.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Astarion said softly.
“Sitting and drinking in the bath, or this?” asked Gale, waving an arm around to indicate “this entire fucking apartment”.
“This,” Astarion told him. He took a deep breath, blowing it out and letting his head loll back on Gale’s shoulder. “This is fucking terrifying for me, you know.”
“I know.”
He knew, all right. Astarion’s general skittishness when it had come to the whole relationship thing had been an onrunning issue since they’d met - but he had clearly been trying, especially in the last few months. He was more likely to actually talk to Gale when he was feeling overwhelmed now rather than hide, and little by little his carefully constructed walls had started to come down, letting Gale see the actual Astarion. Not the smooth, brash confident one, but the more uncertain, insecure one with an allergy to commitment.
They were getting there.
“We’re learning,” Gale reassured him, resting his chin on Astarion’s shoulder.
“Mmm,” Astarion agreed, wiggling back against him and making Gale’s breath stutter.
“Ahhh. Now I see why you were so keen on this bathtub,” Gale teased him, letting his hands brush across Astarion’s chest, tweaking at his nipples before sliding down the smooth planes of his stomach. “My love, as much as I’d like to ravage you, I’m not sure I have the energy to. I fear I need to use my leftover energy to actually do mundane things such as wash my hair.”
“Oh, fine,” huffed Astarion, sliding forward. “Turn around, I’ll do it.”
Gale chuckled, carefully maneuvering himself so his back was to Astarion and leaning back to dunk his hair completely in the water. Astarion grabbed a bottle of floral-scented shampoo from the edge of the tub and set to scrubbing, deft fingers massaging carefully along Gale’s skull.
“Gods, that’s lovely,” Gale mumbled, eyes closed. He leaned back, letting Astarion rinse his hair - apparently, he’d drained the rest of the wine in his mug and was using that as a vessel to scoop water - before rubbing a handful of conditioner through it. He repeated the rinsing, patting Gale’s back gently to indicate he was done.
“Your turn,” he told Astarion, delighting in the way he looked both pleased and surprised. Gale scrubbed at his silvery curls, letting his nails scrape against Astarion’s scalp in the way he knew he loved.
“No one has ever done this for me,” Astarion said, his voice drifting slightly. “This is really nice.”
“Mmmm,” Gale hummed, still scrubbing. He tipped Astarion’s head back, rinsing the suds away carefully. He hesitated, hands hovering at Astarion’s shoulders, before he asked, “Do you want me to do your back?”
Astarion was quiet for a long moment before he answered. “Please,” he whispered. “I don’t know if it was all the moving around or the sweating, but it hurts like hell,” he muttered.
Gale dropped a kiss onto his shoulder, rubbing Astarion’s arms reassuringly before grabbing a washcloth off the edge of the tub. He added a generous blob of shower gel and then started gently scrubbing at Astarion’s back, biting his lip as he got a truly good look. Astarion didn’t really make any effort to hide them from him anymore, but he also certainly didn’t just sit still and let Gale really look.
The scars were vicious; some were longer slashes, while others had obviously been deep gouges. They littered Astarion’s entire back, a broken quilt of horrors marring his otherwise pristine pale skin.
“Do these still hurt normally?” Gale asked, smoothing the washcloth down the right side of his back as carefully as he could.
Astarion nodded, somewhat jerkily. “Some parts don’t. There was - there’s nerve damage in some of the deeper ones,” he said, gesturing towards a particularly vicious set of marks trailing down his right shoulder. “Those in particular are still fairly numb. I can vaguely feel the pressure when you go over them, but that’s about it.” He pulled in a shaky breath before he continued. “The rest - it’s more - tight. The skin feels really tight, and that can get painful. Moving in ways I normally don’t pulls the scar tissue around, and I think that’s why it’s so fucking bad right now,” Astarion said, sighing. He pressed a hand against his eyes, taking a deep breath before he leaned back against Gale’s chest.
Gale could take a hint; he wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin on his shoulder, one hand lightly rubbing his chest. “I’m sorry, my love,” he murmured. “I wish you didn’t have to deal with that.”
“Yeah, me too,” Astarion mumbled. “Just wait until shards of glass start trying to work themselves out occasionally. That really fucking sucks,” he huffed. “Although, I have you now to help get them out, so maybe that’ll make it suck less.”
Gale grimaced before he said, “Of course. Whatever will help.”
“They tend to work their way to the surface and eventually break the skin. If I’m lucky, they’ll come out without much fussing, but if I’m not, I have to try to pick at it to get the fucking thing out. And if it’s in the middle of my back -”
“Ahh,” said Gale, understanding. “Well, you have spare hands now,” he said soothingly, kissing Astarion’s cheek. Astarion shifted against him, turning to kiss him before laying back against him.
“Do we have to get out?” Astarion asked, stretching a leg out and poking his toes up through the bubbles.
“Eventually,” Gale said, chuckling. “I don’t know about you, but I’m excited to go to bed with you in our lovely new apartment together for the first time.”
Astarion grinned, scooping up some bubbles and blowing them off his hand, watching as they floated away. “That’s a good point. I’m kind of excited about that too.”
~~~***~~~***~~~
astarion
Astarion was, actually, unreasonably excited about the new place. After all of his grumbling and hissing and general fear of commitment, now that he was here - well, he liked it. He liked the fact that he now had a dedicated workroom - something that he’d only dreamed about for years.
Oh, and if he was being honest with himself - something he generally tried to avoid - he was excited about having Gale around all the time. He wrapped himself in a towel, smiling as Gale rummaged in a box, trying to find a comb. He finally succeeded, pulling it through his shoulder-length dark hair while Astarion watched, smiling.
“What’re you doing?” Gale asked, carefully parting his hair and combing it smooth.
“Oh, just admiring you,” Astarion cooed. Predictably, Gale flushed bright red, and Astarion sauntered his way into the bedroom, digging into a box on the dresser and coming up with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He pulled them on before he crawled into bed, chuckling when Tara let out a questioning chirp from the foot of the bed before prancing her way up his legs, settling herself on his chest.
“Hello, darling,” he told her, scratching her chin, watching as her eyes squinched shut happily.
“Traitor,” Gale told her, smoothing a hand down her back as he joined Astarion in bed.
“Don’t listen to him, darling,” Astarion told Tara. “He’s just jealous.”
Gale grinned at him, sprawling out on his back. Astarion scooted closer - ignoring the disgruntled meows coming from Tara - and nuzzled his way into the hollow of Gale’s shoulder with a sigh.
“Good?” Gale asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” he agreed, throwing a leg over him. He’d found that he actually slept better with Gale, which had been a pleasant surprise. It had taken a month or two - he supposed he’d been adjusting to the whole idea of having someone in bed with him again - but then it was like a switch had flipped, and he had been sleeping better than he had in years. He certainly still had bad nights, but they were much farther apart these days.
Plus, when he did have bad nights, Gale was always willing to sit with him until the noise in his head had reduced to acceptable levels and he no longer wanted to crawl out of his own skin. It had been months since he’d last sat in an empty bathtub, shaking nonstop.
Thank gods for that.
Gale pressed a kiss to his temple, smoothing his hair back as he did. Astarion made a pleased noise against him, his eyes drifting closed.
“This was a good idea,” Gale mumbled, also sounding half-asleep.
“I think so too,” Astarion managed, and then sleep pulled him under completely.
~~~***~~~***~~~
gale
Gale rolled out of bed the next morning, groaning at the stiffness in his muscles. He managed to get dressed without incident, glancing occasionally at Astarion’s sleeping form burrowed underneath the blankets. He smiled, leaning over and kissing his cheek before he slipped out of the room.
He absolutely was not in the mood for going to work today, but it hadn’t occurred to him that perhaps he should’ve taken the day off. Gale stared around the kitchen, wondering where in the hells the coffee machine was, and decided it would be worth the money to buy breakfast this morning for once.
Gale barely made it in time; while the new apartment was actually closer to the library, the little cafe he’d stopped at to grab coffee and a muffin from had taken forever. By the time he flew in the door, he was completely flustered, stuffing bites of muffin in his mouth as he rushed into the back room to set his bag down.
“All right, Gale?” called Arabella, tossing her bag into one of the staff lockers with a thud.
“I’m good,” he said. “Just a little flustered. I moved this weekend and now I can’t move,” he said, chuckling.
“Ooof,” she said sympathetically. “Moving sucks. Where’d you move to?”
“A duplex down on Fifth,” he said. “I - well. I moved in with my partner,” he said, blushing.
“Gale!” she gasped, grinning. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone!”
“I have been for awhile,” he told her, popping the last bite of muffin into his mouth.
“What’s his name?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.
“Astarion.”
“Oh, that’s a nice name,” Arabella said, bumping her shoulder against his in a friendly fashion.
Gale smiled, shrugging. “He’s a good man,” he finally said.
“Of course he is, if he’s with you.”
“Who’s with you?” That was Rolan, strolling in late and still glaring at them like it was somehow their fault.
“My partner,” said Gale shortly. While he was okay with gossiping a bit with Arabella, he certainly wasn’t in the habit of offering information up to Rolan.
“You have -” Rolan raised an eyebrow, stopping when Arabella tried to swat him with a folder.
“Leave him alone, Rolan,” she sniffed.
“Fine, fine,” Rolan grumbled. “I was just curious.”
“I’m sure,” Gale called, taking a final swig of coffee before he headed out of the back room, grabbing a cart and disappearing into the stacks.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Gale sighed, rubbing at his rather-sore back from lifting boxes all day yesterday as he stood in the elevator, making his way into the basement. It finally crawled to a stop, letting out a pathetic ding, and he pushed his way out into the cool quiet of the basement stacks.
It was early, and he doubted he’d even see another person until he went back upstairs. He settled into shelving, finding a steady rhythm and relaxing into the repetitive nature of it.
Gale had just slid one final book into place when a familiar voice said, “Don’t hit me with the cart, now.”
He jumped, spinning around to see Astarion leaning against the shelves and smiling at him.
“Gods, you scared the hells out of me,” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “What, a man can’t come check out some more pattern books now that he has a proper workshop to indulge in?”
“Ah, of course,” said Gale, remembering to lock the wheels on the cart before he leaned forward on it, trying to stretch.
“Plus, I figured I’d come see if I could take you to lunch.”
“Astarion, it’s barely nine.”
“Brunch.”
Gale snorted, shaking his head. “Maybe in an hour or two. I just got here, Rolan will kill me if I try to leave already.”
Astarion tilted his head, eying Gale speculatively. “You know, we could kill some time.”
“How are we - oh.” Gale looked him over, taking in the loose black shirt, the tight jeans, the battered black boots, the pieced-together trench coat, and felt the first stirrings of arousal creeping down his spine.
Astaron raised his eyebrows. “Yes, darling?”
Gale grabbed his hand, dragging him across the floor, weaving in and out of stacks until they made it to the bound research journal section, shoving the adjustable shelves back and forth until he’d managed to enclose them into a dark corner.
“Well, this looks familiar,” Astarion mused, looking around. “I wonder why - oh -” He cut off as Gale pressed him back into the stacks, nibbling and sucking his way up the pale column of his throat.
“You know,” Gale murmured, his lips right against Astarion’s ear. “You never did let me return the favor that day.”
“I know,” Astarion gasped; Gale had started sucking bruises into the pale skin of Astarion’s neck, pulling his shirt aside to nip his way across his collarbone. “Oh, shit, Gale -”
“You’re going to have to be quiet,” Gale breathed. He ran his tongue up the outer shell of Astarion’s ear, making him shudder, before he added, “We’re in a library, after all.”
The heated look that Astarion gave him could’ve melted a glacier. “Naughty boy,” he whispered.
“Mmmm-hmmm,” Gale agreed, reaching down to unbutton Astarion’s pants, pushing them down enough to reveal his already hard cock, twitching and leaking in black briefs that were barely containing him.
Astarion clapped a hand over his mouth as Gale dropped to his knees, nosing against the crease of his thigh, planting kisses up the pale skin on his inner thighs. He slid his hand up Astarion’s hard length, stroking him slowly several times before hooking a finger in the waistband of his underwear.
“May I?” he asked.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Astarion said, his eyes gleaming. He ran a hand over Gale’s head, threading his fingers through his hair gently.
“You know,” Gale murmured, pulling Astarion’s briefs out of the way and exposing his cock. “I could be terribly mean and tell you to keep your hands on the stacks,” he continued, licking a slow stripe up the length of Astarion’s cock from root to tip, pulling a whimper out of him before he put a hand back over his mouth.
He moved his hand long enough to say, “Love, I’ll put my hands wherever you want them, so long as you put your mouth on me in the next minute before I lose my mind.”
Gale gazed up at him, meeting those golden eyes that he’d fallen into the first time he’d ever seen him as he curved a hand around Astarion’s waist, squeezing his ass firmly. “You can put them wherever you want,” he finally said, before plunging into action.
“Hells -” Astarion’s swear was still audible through his hand as Gale swallowed him down, nose bumping against the smooth muscles of Astarion’s stomach. He relaxed his throat, letting Astarion fill him, enjoying the sensation of holding him in place, his own cock aching at the knowledge that he was making Astarion feel good. He rippled his tongue slightly against the underside of Astarion’s cock, and the hand not over his mouth went back to his hair, gripping it just tight enough to hurt just enough.
Gale pulled back, letting his tongue swirl around the rosy tip of Astarion’s twitching cock, collecting the salty liquid that had been accumulating at his slit with a pleased hum. He pressed kisses down his length, working his way back up to the tip and letting his tongue dance over the smooth skin of his head.
Astarion’s breath had gotten faster and shakier, his grip on Gale’s hair tight, but not demanding; to Gale, it felt more like he was trying to keep himself grounded. A surge of affection shot through him, and he rested his head against Astarion’s thigh for just a moment, rubbing his hands up and down the backs of his legs.
“You’re wonderful,” he whispered, kissing a gentle trail up a pale thigh, letting his tongue dip into the divot of Astarion’s hip. “And beautiful,” he continued, slowly kissing his way across his stomach, continuing down his other leg. “I adore you,” he added.
Above him, Astarion was looking down at him with something rather like wonder in his eyes; the hand in Gale’s hair loosened, stroking it back off his face tenderly. “Oh, Gale -” he managed, his eyes watering.
“I know,” Gale told him, warmth blooming in his chest as he met Astarion’s eyes. He moved back in, giving the tip of his cock a tiny lick, drawing a ragged breath out of Astarion as he did. He took him into his mouth slowly, savoring every inch as he sank down, tongue stroking against his hardness as he did. Gale settled into a slow, steady rhythm, bobbing his head up and down while Astarion squirmed against the stacks, thighs tensing and trembling beneath Gale’s hands.
He swallowed him down again, groaning at the sensation of having Astarion so deep inside his throat, loving the feeling, delighting in Astarion’s muffled whimpers, even as his fingers twisted into Gale’s hair. He pulled back, eyes watering slightly as he traced his tongue around the tip of Astarion’s cock, collecting the precum that had been steadily oozing from him.
Gale settled back into a rhythm, this time faster, his hand gripping the base of Astarion’s cock and stroking him firmly in tandem with his movements. Astarion swore under his breath, eyes closed and head leaned back on the stacks, completely given over to the pleasure Gale was delivering. He drew him back down his throat again, rippling his tongue against him, and Astarion gasped, tugging sharply at Gale’s hair in warning.
He paused in his ministrations to look up at Astarion, at the crease in his brow, at the tenseness in his body, memorizing every bit of it before he whispered, “Come for me, love.”
With that, he pulled him back into his mouth, taking him as deep as he could, and then Astarion was moaning, cock pulsing in his mouth as he came. Gale swallowed several times before letting him go, kissing his thigh again gently before sitting back on his heels.
Astarion was gripping the stacks behind him so tightly his knuckles were turning white, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He finally opened his eyes, reaching down to pull Gale up against him, resting his head on his shoulder with a contented sigh.
Gale had freed himself from his pants and was stroking himself vigorously, his cock rubbing against Astarion’s stomach as he did. Astarion had just managed to lift his head to capture Gale’s mouth, tongue exploring and caressing, when Gale tumbled over the edge, spending himself on Astarion’s waist.
He leaned his head against Astarion’s for a moment before he started to laugh, shaking his head. Astarion snorted, looking down at the mess and searching the pockets of his coat for a moment before coming up with a rag to clean up with. That done, he tucked himself back into his pants, and carefully did the same for Gale.
“You know, this is a little familiar,” Astarion mused, wrapping his arms around Gale’s neck.
“It is, isn’t it,” Gale agreed, pressing kisses along his jaw before finding his way to his mouth. Astarion sighed into his mouth, lips soft and pliant against his.
“One thing is different, though,” Astarion whispered, his lips brushing against Gale’s as he spoke. “I’m not running this time.”
Gale pulled back to look at him, cupping the side of his face in his hand softly, thumb stroking along his cheek. Astarion leaned into the touch, his eyes drifting closed, a small smile on his lips.
“I’m glad,” Gale said simply, thumb still caressing his cheek. They’d come a long way, that was for sure. He’d never imagined all those months ago that a chance encounter with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen would end up here, in a reverse version of what had gotten them here in the first place.
Astarion shuffled back slightly, studying his boots intently for a moment before he looked back up at Gale, meeting his eyes. “I - um. I. Shit. I’m not good at this,” said Astarion, exasperated.
“Hmm?” Gale asked, running fingers through Astarion’s curls.
“Iloveyou,” Astarion said, all in a rush.
Gale froze, his hand going to Astarion’s shoulder and holding him in place so he could look at him. Astarion was bright red, back to studying his boots and peeking up at Gale through his lashes occasionally.
“Oh, Astarion,” said Gale softly, pulling him into his arms. “I love you too.”
Astarion relaxed against him, his fingers tight on Gale’s shoulders. He swallowed hard, apparently trying to summon his courage, before he tried again. “I love you,” he whispered.
Gale smiled at him, tucking a curl behind his ear. “Shall we get out of here?” he asked, gesturing at the stacks surrounding them.
“Darling, there’s nothing I’d like more.”