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Hemtael had begun to avoid Astarion following the night they shared together after the tiefling party.
Avoid was a strong word. He still interacted with the vampire plenty, it was just…he kept their conversations short and avoided Astarion’s gazes. Their night together had been nice, less rough, more familiar, and Hemtael felt better about it than their first. Yet…it seemed every few hours his mind would drudge up their conversation during the party, when Astarion had told him he loved him, clearly lying yet sounding almost genuine. A very practiced line, Hemtael assumed, and he had called him out immediately after, but it had stuck with him.
Was he still just a means to an end? Just…security?
Not even a friend?
The third night after the party came and Hemtael watched the fire in the center of the camp burn lower and lower. Everyone else had retreated into their tents and bedrolls, leaving the half-elf alone. His eyes slid up off of the fire at the sound of fabric shifting, and Astarion appeared from the depths of his tent.
He sauntered over, the low light of the fire causing the curled tips of his white hair to glow as if they themselves were aflame.
He sat cross legged beside Hemtael, making sure their legs were pressed together and their shoulders touched. He was silent, just watching the flames the same as Hemtael. Hemtael wondered if Astarion was here to confront him about how distant he’d been, but quickly realized he was most likely here to feed. The thought made that gross wriggling feeling in his stomach return, yet he turned towards the rogue all the same.
“Hungry?”
“Well, if you're offering, darling, I won't refuse,” Astarion replied, turning and meeting Hemtael’s eyes. The flickering remains of the campfire turned his red eyes to pools of magma. Hemtael was mesmerized for a moment, before looking away and standing, snuffing out the fire with some water from the river next to camp. He could hear Astarion get to his feet behind him, and heard his footsteps as he followed him back to his tent.
As Hemtael wordlessly laid down, and Astarion, creature of the night, straddled his waist and leaned down towards his throat, he realized he needed to say something about what he was feeling, anything.
He had previously given some thoughts to how he'd explain everything, as he didn't want Astarion to think he was asking for more than what they had. Or what Hemtael thought they'd had. He just…really didn't want a repeat of that comment, and he felt like he was treading water in the middle of an ocean trying to figure out what to say.
Astarion's cold hand was brushing Hemtael’s hair away from his neck when he decided to say ‘fuck this’ and he gently-yet firmly- grabbed the vampire’s chin between his thumb and his fingers, forcing him to look him in the eye.
“I don't want you to ever say you love me like that again. Please,” Hemtael stated, and Astarion’s eyes widened slightly in shock before the mask magically re shifted back into place.
“Of course darling. I’ll save the “I love you”s for when we’re getting married at the end of this wonderful adventure we’re on,” he replied venomously, smiling and showing his sharp teeth.
Hemtael had half a mind to kick him out of his tent then and there, but he channeled that anger into a burning glare.
“That's not what I mean, and you know it. Just don't do it again,” he repeated, before releasing Astarion’s chin and laying back, using his other hand to sweep his hair away from his neck and baring the flesh for the elf above him, boring a hole into the green fabric of the wall of his tent with his eyes as he waited. Astarion stayed still for a moment before Hemtael felt the cool breath against the skin of his throat. He pressed his lips to Hemtael’s skin, and instead of immediately biting down he pressed another chaste kiss to the spot where Hemtael’s jaw met his neck. Hemtael felt some of his anger melt away before being distracted by the pain, and he closed his eyes, letting his mind wander as Astarion drank his fill.
When Hemtael began to feel lightheaded he felt Astarion pull away, swiping his tongue over the wounds as he always did before Hemtael sealed them with a healing spell. Hemtael wondered if Astarion was just going to leave to his own bedroll as he sat up and licked his lips, but instead the Elf repositioned himself, so he was lying on top of him, laying his head on Hemtael’s chest and allowing the ranger’s chin to rest on his curls.
It reminded Hemtael of a cat trying to sate its owner with a cuddle after scratching them.
“I…apologize for hitting a nerve at the party.”
Hemtael struggled to think through his woozy post feeding haze. How did he explain this without sounding like some sort of jaded lover wishing for some sort of proposal?
But he had to try.
Astarion was giving him the opportunity to try.
“I just…I don't just see the phrase “I love you” as a saying only reserved for courting partners or married couples. Hells, I would say it to anyone in this camp if the mood called for it. Which made me feel as if I was still just a mark to you.”
Astarion stopped breathing for a heartbeat.
He was silent for a few more.
“...Still?”
“Oh, you can't think I didn't know what you were doing when you first propositioned me? I understand, you needed someone you could trust to protect you if being a vampire became an issue,” Hemtael explained, before he snorted, “I have no idea why out of everyone here you chose me to go after.”
“I thought you’d be easy, if I’m being honest. Then I found out you had the lowest sex drive this side of the Sword Coast,” Astarion replied, earning a laugh from the ranger.
“Is it really that bad?”
“Darling, most people trip over themselves to get into bed with me. Half the time I try and fuck you you tell me ‘Astarion, it's really late and we have a lot of travel tomorrow. Can we wait for another night?’” Astarion explained, ending with a truly terrible Hemtael impression that caused the man himself to laugh so hard he practically jostled the vampire off his chest.
“Is that what I sound like to you?”
“Mhmm,” Astarion hummed, settling back down. They were both silent for a while, until Hemtael spoke again.
“Why keep trying?”
He hoped he sounded genuinely curious, and not like he was fishing for…something else.
“Honestly, it was kind of…refreshing. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our romps together, but it's also nice to be…like this,” Astarion replied, one of his fingers tracing the stitching of Hemtael’s sleeve.
Hemtael hummed in agreement, satisfied with the answers given. His head still swam a bit, but his body was relaxing, having finally gotten this conversation finished successfully. He closed his eyes, the cool weight on top of him creating a comforting pressure across his body that kept his mind from spinning out of control.
Before Hemtael fully let himself fall asleep he waited to see what Astarion was planning to do for the night. Rarely he would leave and head into his own tent, but it was known to happen. Most of the time he would stretch out beside Hemtael, and Hemtael would curl up beside him, and they would sleep and meditate together. Tonight, however, it seemed Astarion was perfectly content to begin meditating on top of Hemtael, as his breathing fully even out and deepened in his trance. Hemtael smiled softly to himself before giving in to sleep.