Chapter Text
Walking back into The Palace evoked a feeling similar to returning to a familiar place from your childhood as an adult.
Well, maybe not the exact same. The aspect of the space being a den of carnal desires certainly made the analogy feel ill fitting. But to Gale he had no other way to describe it. It was familiar, yet incredibly foreign to him.
The Palace was nestled within a Megacorp building, Megacorp V7, as it was creatively known, and took up the entire 39th floor. It could be entered either via an internal elevator or through a specialized sky walk that connected it to its neighboring skyscraper, a mall filled with outlet shops and overpriced themed restaurants.
Gale sat on the cement benches outside of the front entrance on the raised walkway, enjoying as the final rays of sun capable of reaching the interior of the Megacorp courtyard sunk back higher and higher until they were officially gone. His back ached from leaning against the cement railing, and the bench he sat on had raised iron ridges to prevent anybody from sleeping on them in a textbook example of hostile architecture.
Jaheira had secured the booking, though she had used Gale’s personal link for the privilege. For 1,255 Eurodollars, he was booked for a one hour session, with the extra two hundred fifty going towards the “complete discretion” package, meaning that his facial profile, if scanned by the security cameras, would automatically be scrubbed from the feed and a guarantee that the activities of the session would not be recorded. However, if one did want to purchase a BD of a session, that was also available for an additional 500 eurodollars before the session began.
The five dollars surcharge was for the condom he was expected to use. And no, he could not provide his own.
His booking was at 10am. It seemed wild to him that individuals would book a session with a doll during typical business hours, but he also realized that it was the former corpo in him speaking more than anything else. The dollhouse was open 24 hours a day, and presumably, given how hard it was to find an open session to book; fairly busy.
A holo projection was set up outside of the door with flashy graphics of bats fluttering by, the theming completed with a black and green wrought iron gate swung open to allow entry through the glass doors behind. He could see the interior through the glass, dark stained wood halls with a ruby red plush carpet lining the center, leading towards the interior. The walls were a dark chocolate wood paneling, and the black check in counter was full of sharp edges and engraved gothic motifs.
Taking a deep breath, he let the doors open and he stepped inside. To his right were the internal elevators, with plush red benches lining the walls across from them. To his left was the counter leading to the front booking desk. He recognized the woman at the check in station as the one who had facilitated his tour back when he was observing security. The nametag on her chest bore the name “Amanita Szarr, Assistant Manager.”
For a moment he feared she would recognize him. True, his appearance had changed, his chestnut hair now long enough to brush the top of his shoulders and his facial hair, once shaved neat and close to his face had grown into an actual beard, but he worried it wouldn’t be enough.
“Hello, welcome to The Palace,” she greeted with a wide smile. She, too, had the prosthetic fangs that were keeping with the vampire theming. As Gale approached, he watched her closely to try and catch any sign of recognition in her expression.
Either she was a fantastic actress, or she didn’t recognize him.
A fast tempo beat thumped in the air, the entire club resonating from it. His eyes traced down the desk where a glass case of sex toys were on display. Lined up were dildos, handcuffs, anal beads, vibrators, even some items that had Gale tilting his head to understand what they were and where on a person’s anatomy they would go, all with hefty price tags besides them.
“Do you have an appointment?” She asked, drawing his attention back. He gulped, his throat and mouth dry as he did, then nodded.
A notification popped up in his cyberoptics, a blue text box that stated “Warning— unauthorized scan.” He looked and saw a security camera with a full scanner mounted to the wall above her head.
“Ah, Mr. Dekarios.” She said, her eyes lighting up a cloudy red as she looked at what personal data of his she was provided, “I show that we have a user profile but I don’t see any previous session history. Are we finally giving this all a chance?”
“Uh… yes. This is my first time.” He responded, feeling incredibly anxious all of a sudden. The entire aesthetic of it all felt strangely clinical, as if he wasn’t scheduling a time to have sex with someone and could buy the foot long dildo from the display if he wanted it.
“Are you familiar with how this works?”
“Vaguely,” he said, telling the truth for the most part. While Cazador had given him the sales pitch before, he had admittedly been a bit distracted by the writhing, beautiful, half dressed elf and felt he missed the vital parts of the pitch.
“Then let me explain. This is a place for you to indulge in all your desires. Our dolls are professionals in what they do, and they are skilled in helping you achieve absolute ascension.” She paused as she motioned to that exact phrase that was embedded on a gold plaque beneath the glowing logo on the wall. “You are scheduled to have a private session with one of our dolls. An algorithm pilots the doll's motor functions after compiling and uploading your personality matrix into their dollchip. The dollchip translates those innate, carnal desires into real flesh and blood experiences. The doll will form their personality, their behavior, even aspects of their look to your desire.
“During the session, the dolls are incapable of forming any sort of memories, due to their chips. So rest assured that you can indulge your deepest, darkest fantasies without anyone ever knowing. The dolls will not even remember your face after the session ends.”
Gale felt a slight bit of disappointment at that. While he wasn’t sure what to expect, the idea that Astarion wouldn’t even know they had spoken was heartbreaking to him. He couldn’t explain why.
“Once you are in there, you set the stakes of the session. The doll is merely an actor in your subconscious expression of your fantasies. Feel free to use them however you desire. Our only requirements is for those engaging in penetrative sex of any kind to utilize safe sex measures. It seems you have purchased condoms for the session. If you have need of more than one, the doll should have ample supply as well as other amenities for sale, should you desire.”
Gale felt his face flush and he looked to his feet. While he was certainly not a prude to sex, he also wasn’t one to kiss and tell, so to speak.
“For final verification, I will need you to jack your personal link into the terminal,” she stated, her ivory hand indicating to the black terminal bank built into the desk.
A million little voices in his head warned him of the dangers of jacking into ports you were not fully sure of, but he shrugged it aside. He already had one malicious malware sitting in his brain, what was one more?
“If you ever feel the need to interrupt the session, or have any concerns regarding your safety, you can do so with your safe word. If you use your safe word, the session ends, and the doll will be put temporarily offline to allow you time to safely exit the room.” She explained, almost robotically. After she finished, she frowned and lowered her brow.
“Mr. Dekarios, I don’t see a registered safe word. Would you please provide me one so I can program it into our system?”
He paused, his mind unhelpfully filling with what Astarion had last said to him. He could still hear the teasing lilt in his voice, the warmth of his breath just inches from his face, the tiny poke of his fang on his lips.
“She has everything in the world,” the echo of Astarion in his mind repeated, “but you want more. ”
“Ambition.” He finally said to her. The pale woman’s eyes lit up as she registered it.
“Ambition.” She repeated. She gave a soft smile, then her eyes darkened. “I have that registered, and have just authorized your payment. The entire floor is available to you if you wish to wind down first. We have a full service bar, as well as a few other amenities. However, this booking is just for one hour, meaning your time starts now.”
She pointed down a dark corridor that was alight with a neon red glow. A neon white sign cast a brilliant glow above the walkway, in the shape of a large fanged smile. He gave her a nod and began to step down the corridor.
“Astarion awaits you in booth six, when you are ready.”
Gale wasn’t sure he ever truly would be ready for this.
He headed down the long dark corridor, his heart pounding the whole way. The bass of the upbeat music caused the floor to thrum and the walls to vibrate. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, incense, and disinfectant.
The corridor led into a huge chamber resembling an old time ballroom. The dark stained wood seemed to cover every inch, from the floor to the wooden balustrades leading towards a raised stage. The stage was currently empty, save for a lone dj at the booth, picking upbeat synthwave music to keep the vibe energetic.
The hardwood bar stood off to the side, its coloring near pitch black. A velvet red stripe of neon ran beneath it, giving the room a creeping dark vibe. Several of the stools already had patrons, several who were gossiping about the sessions they just had. Meanwhile, a bored looking bartender waited at the ready for a new drink order.
Branching off from the ballroom were two more corridors, one that had a red neon sign that simple read VIP, and the other which was lined with a light blue light that emanated from the floor. Above that hallway was “ Ascension ” written in sky blue neon cursive.
He followed the “Ascension” chamber as it led him to a new hall, adored with black glass windows lining its entire way. Smart glass, he realized, capable of toggling between opaque and clear at any moment, as well as projecting images. The windows were displaying dark gothic style windows, reminiscent of an old school haunted victorian Mansion. Etched into the glass were the booth numbers written in a gothic edged font. Where he currently stood, one and two were on his right and left respectively.
Booth six was at the very end of the hall. As he approached, he noticed part of the smart glass was cracked open and emanating a glow around its edges, a sign that it was waiting for his arrival. His hand lingered on the golden handlebar, his palms suddenly incredibly sweaty. Before he could have a second thought, he pulled it open.
There he was. Kneeling on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed, Astarion looked like a supplicant saint, his eyes closed and his hands flexing open and close at his side. When he heard his entry, those red eyes flashed open.
“It’s you,” the elf said, his voice barely above a whisper. Gale felt his heart skip a beat, finding it difficult to draw breath. “You’re… You’re alive.”
“What?” Gale asked, feeling as if he may have misheard what he said.
Astarion shook his head, and instantaneously his affect changed.
“I mean, I saw you in the papers. You’re wanted for murder, basically. And no one has heard from you.” Astarion said, his voice sinking into a tease. An act, Gale thought. “How special I must be to be your grand reemergence into society. It must be lonely, hiding out from the Fist because you murdered someone.”
“I didn’t kill anyone. I never have.” Gale said, stepping forwards towards the pale elf.
“Right,” Astarion’s voice filled with vitriol, his eyes growing angry, “you’ve never hurt anyone, have you?”
“I don’t know why you’re angry at me? Why do you dislike me?” Gale moved to sit besides Astarion on the bed. The elf recoiled, but didn’t move. He just glared at the corpo out of the corner of his eye.
“You misunderstand, I don’t dislike you. I don’t care about you. That’s the difference.”
“You say that, but I seem to recall you specifically coming up to me at the banquet,” Gale pointed out, “and whispering into my ears about how well you knew the truth about me.”
“Oh, that you are a pathetic loser slobbering at the heels of a corpo executive who couldn’t care less about you other than the functionality of your dick?” Astarion hissed, his lips curled back, his red eyes aflame.
“So you do care. I don’t imagine someone who didn’t care would get so worked up,” Gale teased, feeling a bit of triumph leaking into his voice. He couldn’t place it, but in every interaction with the elf (though he had had few) it felt like a complicated game where he only knew half the rules. So, when the rare chance occurred where he felt he had the edge, it felt like a triumph.
The pale elf just rolled his eyes, shifting his knees out from under him and instead pulling them close to his body, practically rolling up into a ball. Gale couldn’t help but notice how truly pale his skin was, peeking out from red silky shorts and a red satin robe.
He wanted to touch him, to recreate the feeling of his cold touch like he had before.
“Don’t forget, this is all just an act. I’m a doll, I’ve got a chip. All I’m doing is letting my body behave how your subconscious wants.”
“And my subconscious chose for you to be impetuous?”
Astarion finally turned to look at him, his eyebrow raised. It was for only a brief moment, but Gale caught it. A true look of complete panic that crossed the elf’s face, his eyes wide and blown, his lips parting, and his skin paling even more. But in an instant, his expression changed.
Suddenly, Gale found himself beneath the elf, pale knees now digging into the bedding on both sides of his thighs as he crawled into his lap. Astarion, due to being on his knees, was slightly above Gale’s face, his chest eye level. He had folded his hands over his shoulders, long fingers tracing patterns into the fabric on the back of his shirt.
“I suppose I can guide your subconscious into the right direction,” Astarion purred, lowering his hips and letting his ass rest on Gale’s lap. Gale gulped and purposely gripped the bedspread beneath him, trying to prevent himself from grabbing the elf and guiding his ministrations. Beneath Astarion, his cock was growing hard from the elf’s movements upon it.
But then.. something he said set off a spark in his head.
“Wait… guide? How? The chip controls your motor functions? You shouldn’t be able to control anything.”
There was that faint expression of panic, but Astarion merely lowered his head and began to nip at the flesh of Gale’s neck.
“Do you always fight intimacy like this? Or did Mystra enjoy your annoying pedantic tendencies as a type of foreplay?”
Gale bit back his immediate response, his desire to hurl an insult at Astarion. He tried to keep his head level, but as Astarion pressed his lips against his pulse point and ground his hips against his lap, he found it growing incredibly difficult
“You’re deflecting. You’re hiding something.”
Astarion stopped, leaning back, letting out a scoff, and rolling his eyes. “Of course I am, darling. I’m a fucking doll. I hide who I am, what I want, and my disgust with whom I’m serving every single day. I’m a professional at hiding things.”
“You find me that disgusting?”
“I find you a dismal, depressing individual. But I don’t have to like you to let you fuck me.”
It felt like someone had dumped an entire water tower over his body at that. His mind clouded with his own anxiety and deep seated self loathing. As if someone saying what he thought about himself made it suddenly very true.
Wordlessly, he raised his hands from the bedspread and pushed Astarion off of him gently.
The elf moved off of him and stood in front of his seated form. Gale felt his eyes water as he looked up at the elf towering above him. His eyes were aflame, but equally, he saw, they were scared.
“You’re right. I am depressing. You don’t even know the half of it,” Gale said, nearly whispering. He looked away, suddenly unable to meet his red eyes peering down at him. “I’ve fallen from a life of success and accomplishment into abject nothingness. And I’m here using money that isn’t even mine to talk to you.”
The elf didn’t say anything, just crossed his arms over his chest. Gale turned back to see his face, an expression of uncharacteristic confusion and anxiety clouding his fine features.
“But I need your help.”
Astarion’s expression warped. Suddenly he was filled with fury and anger. The shift was so sudden that it practically left Gale breathless.
Well, that and the pale hands enclosing around his throat.
Astarion pounced on him, knocking him flat on his back on the bed. His body pinned down Gale’s, his hands wrapping around his throat. Gale grabbed at the tight grip he had on his throat trying to dig not the flesh of the doll’s hands and pulled them off. His eyes peered up into the flaming red of his pupils bearing down on him.
“What gives you the gods damned right to ask anything of me?” Astarion growled, his voice growing louder, frantic. “You don’t know how much you fucked me! How much you’ve cost me!”
“Please,” Gale gasped between struggling breaths, “I never have wanted…”
“Shut up!” Astarion yelled, his voice a frantic screech. For a moment, Gale thought that someone else would hear and come running, but then he remembered the booths were soundproof.
His mind was short circuiting, the lack of oxygen causing black spots to appear in his eyes. He suddenly remembered his safeword, and realized he could decommission Astarion with just simply muttering it.
“Ambition…” Gale gasped out, expecting the effect to be instantaneous.
Nothing happened.
“Ambition!” He hissed, growing more frantic. His lungs were screaming for air “Ambition! Ambition! Ambition!”
His vision blurred, his lungs ached.
Astarion above him didn’t flinch. However, he looked down at him confused.
The moment of confusion was enough. Gale, with his last bit of strength, moved his knee, then promptly dug it into Astarion between his legs.
The doll keeled over, his grip releasing, as his hands moved to cradle his crotch. He let out a gurgled moan as his body wrapped around himself. Gale sat up and scrambled off the bed, backing up until his back ran into the wall.
“The safe word…” he gasped out, a few coughs escaping as he did. His hand traced over his throat as he struggled to draw breath. “It didn’t work.”
Astarion stopped writhing, still letting out a hiss as he rolled over to look at the ex-corpo. His eyes were watery, his face flushed.
“What?” The elf gasped out, practically sobbing from the pain. Gale glared down at him.
“I said my safe word. They said it would immediately incapacitate you. But it did nothing.”
Astarion just looked at him, tears finally leaking down his cheeks. It was like the dam broke, and he turned to bury his face into the bedspread.
“Please…” Astarion cried, absolutely beseeching him, “Please, don’t tell anyone.”
Gale slowly approached the bed, like he was approaching a wild animal. Slowly, he sat on the bed besides the elf, now in a ball on the bed.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with you?”
Astarion didn’t say anything. His eyes were locked on the bedspread as tears rolled down his face. Then, after a moment, he looked up at Gale.
“My dollchip…” Astarion started, then shook his head and rolled over so he didn’t have to look at him, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You of all people…”
“What’s wrong with your dollchip?”
“It’s not working,” he muttered, his voice muffled from his face being practically buried in the bedspread, “it hasn’t been for a while. I think it went offline when I got shocked.”
“Shocked? What do you mean?”
Astarion didn’t elaborate, just sat silent. Gale paused, then reached out and placed his hand on the elf’s shoulder. He flinched at the contact, but didn’t shove him off.
“Can I…” Gale started, but grew suddenly uneasy with his words, “can I take a look? I’m a former cyberware developer. I may have an idea.”
Astarion turned to look back at him. His tears had stopped, but his cheeks were still flushed. For a moment, nothing happened, the two just existed in the same space, equally caught up in their own thoughts. Then Astarion moved to sit up, and nodded to Gale.
“I… I need to look at your cyberdeck,” Gale pointed to the collar of the robe that covered his implants. Astarion grew stiff, his body frozen. “I won’t touch you, I just need to see.”
Astarion didn’t move, his eyes darting back and forth as he warred with himself. Then, he very slowly pulled down his robe, shucking it, and throwing it to the floor.
Gale slowly moved so that he could sit slightly behind Astarion, activating his cyberoptics and running a scan. He quickly found the cyberdeck and let the scan run. While it did, that’s when he saw it.
Scars. Horrible engraved scars up and down the planes of his back.
“What happened to you?” He asked, before he even had a chance to stop himself.
“You.” Astarion muttered, his eyes locked on the floor. “You happened.”
“What?” Gale gasped. His cyberoptics told him the scan was complete and the analysis was running. He minimized it as it ran so he could look at the doll, now shivering lightly. He tilted his head so that the could look at Gale out of the corner of his eye.
“That day you came with WeaveCorp, you pushed me away. You turned me down.” Astarion said, his voice low, pained. Gale felt his stomach lurch. He remembered it well. Astarion’s words had haunted him for weeks afterwards.
In one particular instance, as Mystra was undressing him, pulling off his briefs and pushing him down onto her couch, he could hear him. As she had mounted him, his cock sliding into her wet heat, it was as if Astarion was right there, whispering into his ear.
“All this time you’ve only done what she wants, why not take care of yourself for a while?”
At that time, he had tried. He had moved his hands up to her hips as she rode him, trying to guide her movements to help him obtain pleasure, slowing her pace, moving so that she could better accompany his size. She had slapped his hands away.
He had moved a hand up to grip at her breasts, she pulled back so he couldn’t reach.
He moved to pull her into a kiss as she rode him, his hand starting at the small of her back and working its way up to push her neck towards him so he could kiss her lips. She had pinned his hand above his head, then continued her ministrations until she came, a loud gasp escaping her lips as she did. Then, after the last waves of her orgasm left her, she moved off of him, his cock still raging hard and longing to return to her wet heat.
She gave him a half hearted hand job to let him finish. Her hand was painfully dry and her pace was frantic, as if she had better things to do.
And all he could think of was the doll who had promised him a chance at his own ecstasy. And he had pushed him away.
After all he had gone through with Mystra, it felt like the universe had punished him for that rejection. But now, looking at the scars on Astarion’s back, he realized he had no idea what real punishment was.
“My master,” Astarion continued, “was immensely displeased. I was locked in the subbasement for days, maybe weeks, I don’t know. It’s hard to tell the days when there are no lights or windows. Then, he came down to visit, to remind me of my contract, that he owned me.”
Astarion let his hand trace over his shoulder, his finger brushing over one of the high marks on his back.
“This was a brand, a reminder of my contract. Forever imbued in my flesh.”
Gale shivered, his fingers longing to trace the scars. He recognized that they had to be deep to cause that sort of scarification, and that they were relatively new. A ping in the corner of his eye signaled that the scan was complete. He navigated over to open the results.
“It looks like your dollchip is completely offline, likely having been fried. You said you were shocked?”
“Yes, by a broken lightbulb,” Astarion supplied. Gale shivered once more, his memory recalling the shooting pain he had experienced when he had inserted the barbed shard into his system. He wondered if that same electrical current feeling was comparable.
“Ah, well, that would do it. Most commercially produced chips are built in with shock protection measures, but if your dollchip is a proprietary build, it’s likely the manager didn’t want to spend extra for it.…” he coughed, unsure of how to phrase what came next, “It appears like your other drives, like your… uh… ‘sex drive’ driver is still functioning properly, still set to engage anytime you experience slight arousal.”
Gale tried not to notice that it had been engaged through this conversation, from the moment he entered the room. He wasn’t going to mention it. He didn’t need to mention it.
But gods, did he want to. Maybe Astarion did find him attractive, underneath all the distaste he had for him.
Why did that matter to him?
“Well, isn’t that wonderful? I can remember everything now and my body dopes itself up with a bunch of hormones to try and make it better.” Astarion bit out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And leave it to Cazador to be a cheap prick when it matters the most.”
“He likely didn’t think you would have any exposure to a qualifying shock, in his defense.” Gale said. He nearly fell back onto his hands when Astarion reeled to shoot him a dangerous glare.
“Don’t you fucking dare. Do you fucking dare defend anything that prick did to me.”
Gale held up his hands in penance. “I… I would never. I…I’m sorry, you’re right.”
Astarion seemed slightly consoled by that, as he turned forwards once more. His eyes locked on the smart glass across the space from him.
“You said you needed my help. Why?” He stated, his words short, tempered back. Gale could tell he was still angry, violently so, but was keeping everything buried beneath. He looked to where pale hands gripped the edge of the bed tightly.
Gale moved to sit besides Astarion, but gave him enough space so there was no chance of their bodies touching. He let out a long sigh, how could he explain all that had happened? How could he describe the immense burden he carried, courtesy of a man who he was suspected of murdering?
His head swam with dizziness. It was all so overwhelming.
“How much do you know about cyberware implants?” Gale asked.
“Next to nothing, but my experience with them has been mostly unpleasant. People sticking things into my body that I don’t want.” He paused. “But I mean, that’s been my life,” he murmured. Gale tried not to show how much the comment made his heart break. He knew he wasn’t looking for pity, and would hate it.
“Well, for the last eight years, implants have been my entire life. The whole reason I came to Baldur’s Gate was to work on developing cyberware for WeaveCorp. And I was good at it, not to indulge in my pride, but I was able to rise to the top. And that’s… well, that’s when I met her…”
Gale drifted off, his mind's eye filling with the image of Mystra, the first time they had been met, the first night they spent together. How beautiful she was, how charming, how sophisticated. Despite everything, he still felt his heart longing for her.
Astarion remained silent, his eyes just locked onto Gale.
“I worked with two others, Elminster and Karsus. We were the head of our department, and each worked together to analyze other corps; products as well as develop some for our own. But, unbeknownst to me, those two were working on a massive project under WeaveCorp’s president’s direction.”
“You mean Mystra,” Astarion supplied. Gale sighed.
“Yes, Mystra. She was having them develop a new cyberdeck that would be able to be produced and sold at a low cost so that it could appeal to a mass market of consumers.” Gale moved his hands in front of him, as if setting a scene before them, “Imagine a world where everyone could afford a top of the line cyberdeck. Where every person could connect to the systems around them with only a flick of their eyes. It would be like weaving magic into the everyday experience.”
“I sense there is a ‘but’ coming,” Astarion said, letting his chin rest in his hand. Gale swallowed, then nodded.
“Yes, the ‘but’ is that Mystra’s motivations were hardly altruistic. The cyberdecks come with a data mining feature that uses the deeply personal information of a person to manipulate them into a mindless consumer. Imagine, you pop a cyberdeck in, and it starts affirming all your dark thoughts. Your mind fills with whispers like ‘you know, your ex wouldn’t have left you had you purchased a better WeaveCorp prosthetic,’ or ‘your friend wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t bought another corps cyberware.’”
Astarion’s mouth gaped open just slightly at that. His red eyes darted about the room, “Manipulating someone by exploiting their vulnerabilities. Like hacking into a human’s soul.”
“Exactly.” Gale felt his hand move almost on its own to his cyberware port, his fingers tracing over the purple shard that was there, no doubt its tiny LED blinking. “But one of the developers, Karsus, built in an exploit, a way to block that influence. Of course, he couldn’t insert it into the program as he built it, she would find it and remove it, quicker than a blink. So he put it on a shard, and…”
“He died.” Astarion finished.
“Yes…” Gale paused, trying not to think too much on the corpo leaping from the tower. “Before that, he gave me that shard. Well, to be truthful, I stole it. I had no idea what it contained, and I thought if I brought it to Mystra, she would be grateful. But he caught me, told me to take it. Then, he killed himself. And when I brought Mystra the shard, when I tried to tell her why I had it, that I had stolen it for her…. Well…”
Astarion didn’t speak, instead he pursed his lips, almost biting back a response. Gale squirmed in his seat, but figured from the lingering silence, he wasn’t going to say anything.
“She killed me. Or, rather, she tried. She shot me point blank and tossed me in the garbage.” Gale had to look away from the doll, his eyes locking on the ceiling, trying to keep tears from forming in his eyes. “I loved her. I gave her everything. And she left me to die in the trash.”
“She didn’t love you.” Astarion finally spat out, his brow sinking, “and you are a fool if you thought she would ever love you back. People like her can’t.”
Gale didn’t have a response. He knew that, he supposed he always did. But it felt like a hot iron brand pressed to his heart, an everlasting sting that remained after the searing iron left.
“Karsus’ exploit is the only way to stop her now. But I can’t go back into WeaveCorp towers. However, you can.”
“What? I can’t even leave here. What makes you…” Astarion started.
“The WeaveCorp year end celebration.” Gale interrupted, “The partnership between the Palace and WeaveCorp was formed with this event in mind. The contract even had a specific mention of this event and how many dolls would be staffed at it. The owner of the Palace promised five dolls to be on call at all times during the event. The executive level event always takes place on the top floor in the largest reception chamber. In WeaveCorp Tower.” Gale interrupted, watching the doll closely. Slowly, he saw the realization dawn on him.
“You want me to bring that shard in, the one with the exploit?”
“Not exactly,” Gale’s hand rubbed over the shard, thinking of the prongs that were embedded underneath his skin from it. “The shard is slotted into my cyberdeck and it… it can’t be removed. It was a barbed shard.”
“Barbed shard?”
“When I inserted it… well, when a barbed shard is put into a data port, it erupts, splintering outward and jamming itself not only into the cyberware system, but into the very body of its host. It cannot be removed, instead, it just burrows and burrows…” Gale explained.
“Until what?”
“What?”
“Does it ever stop?”
Gale paused. When he had spoken to Halsin about it, this was the final thought they had danced around, the ending that neither wanted to reach, the ultimate conclusion that felt too painful to say out loud.
“No. It doesn’t. Usually, it buries itself so deep into the host that it eventually kills them.”
“You’re dying?” Astarion was looking at him now, but Gale couldn’t meet his eyes. It was too painful to see.
“Maybe? Potentially?” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why I have to do this now. Soon. Who knows when it will claim me?”
“So if I can’t take the shard in, what do you want me to do?” Astarion asked.
“I can write a daemon, a hack, that you can upload into any security port in the building. All you need to do is go in and slot the shard in. I can take care of the rest.”
“You mean you’ll go in and upload that exploit somewhere in the building while I do what? Watch?”
“I will go alone, I don’t want you to get harmed if I get caught.”
Astarion just shrugged.
“Say I do this, say I help you. What do I get out of the deal?”
Gale turned to him, surprised. He had (apparently erroneously) hoped that hearing what the cyberdecks could do would be enough of a motivation to get the doll on board. He admittedly didn’t have much to offer currently, as he was the poorest he had ever been.
“What do you want?”
Astarion grew deadly serious, his eyes flashing with a molten hatred that seethed in the red.
“I want out of this place.”
Gale looked at his hands, then thought about it for a moment.
“Why can’t you leave now?”
The elf chuckled, “And go where? I don’t make any money here, everything I earn gets put back into the house. And Cazador,” his voice spat out the name like spoiled food, “took away my stomach. My stomach isn’t compatible with real food, I have to rely on him to give me the only sustenance I can have.” Astarion’s hand moved to the skin of his stomach. Gale noticed as he did, just how skinny he really was. His ribs peeked through under his pale skin, his arms were incredibly lean. “But even without those minor hindrances, I can’t leave because somewhere in my body is a GPS locator. Meaning no matter how far I go, how fast I run, he will always find me and drag me back here.”
None of this, to Gale, felt impossible to fix. While finding a place to live and food that the doll could eat would be a challenge, disconnecting a GPS was simple enough. And he was sure that the Selunites could get the doll out of the city where he would never run the risk of running into his old boss or clients.
“Okay.” Gale stated, holding out his hand for a handshake. Instead of feeling the doll's hand join his, he looked at him utterly flabbergasted.
“What?”
“I said okay. I can make that happen. You do this for me, I will get you out of here. I promise. But it has to be after the WeaveCorp Event.” Gale smiled as he spoke.
When he walked into the dollhouse today, he wasn’t sure he would get Astarion to agree right away. He figured he would have to come back many times before the doll even trusted him enough. But finding his terms so reasonable was honestly relieving.
Then he felt a body crash into his, and his lips pressed against another’s. The doll had leapt at him, pretty much lips first.
He hadn’t kissed someone like this in so long. A heated, passionate kiss full of energy and need. Astarion was kissing him like his life depended on it.
Wait… did he think it did?
Gale painfully pulled away, his body already longing for the doll now fully seated in his lap, his cold body pressed firm against his. But, he couldn’t.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh I don’t know, complex litigation,” the elf snarked, “what does it look like? I’m kissing you.”
“You… you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to kiss me because I’m offering to help you.” Gale said. The elf rolled his eyes and pulled off his lap.
Gods, he didn’t want to let him go.
“Well you’re no fun. Is this how it’s always going to be? All work and no pleasure? And here I thought all good contracts were sealed with a kiss.” He said, pacing in front of Gale, swaying his hips as he did.
“I mean… I would… I…” Gale kept stuttering, the words not wanting to come out in complete sentences, “I, of course want to kiss you, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to. I’m asking a lot of you, and I want to give you something in return.”
“Oh really?” Astarion moved back towards Gale until he was standing right before him, their knees practically touching. He slowly leaned forwards, his arms resting on each side of Gale. “But that’s always been the problem, hasn’t it? When was the last time you did what you wanted?”
Gale didn’t flinch or pull back. Instead he sat still, not trying to show that Astarion was affecting him. It felt like a game, a puzzle that he had to solve. And he always could work out the solution.
“I can ask the same of you. When’s the last time you kissed someone you wanted?”
Astarion let out a song like chuckle, almost melodic more than mirthy. But then he took in a breath and leaned forwards.
Their faces lingered just inches apart.
“ What if I wanted to try what it’s like? To be the one in control of the situation?”
Gale felt cold hands press against the center of his chest, giving him a light push. He leaned back with it until his back hit the bed.
“What if I wanted to be the one seeking pleasure and the other person had to dance to what my subconscious wants?” He whispered, still pressed close, but his lips just far enough away that they were just barely above touching his.
“And what does your subconscious want?” Gale asked, his own voice breathy and quiet. Astarion just looked at him, his red eyes scanning over his face.
“Choice. I want to make the choices for once.” He let his eyes close, Gale now able to see the eyeliner he had applied to his top lid, black with tiny bits of sparkle in it, “I want to choose who I want to sleep with. And I want someone to choose me because they know who I am. Not what I can become for them.”
Gale felt his breath hitch. He felt the same. And for this moment, he needed that too.
Feeling brave, he lifted one hand and began to caress Astarion’s pale cheek, letting his thumb pass over the skin under his eye. Astarion’s eyes shot open and met his.
“I want that too.” He whispered.
Then he closed the space between them, pressing an incredibly light kiss to his lips. He pulled back, and proverbially set the ball in Astarion’s court.
He lurched forwards and began to kiss him. The game was over. Who won? Who lost? Neither knew.
They kissed each other, slow at first, almost a lament to one another to understand how brutally broken they each were underneath it all. A doll who had to remember everything, and ex corpo who had to lose everything.
There was a spark of passion as the kiss picked up speed, force, brutality. Astarion let his fangs dig into the flesh of Gale’s lower lip for just a moment, before he sucked it between his teeth. Gale let out a low moan as his hands moved down Astarion’s flesh to grip the meat of his ass.
Deft fingers worked off Gale’s shirt, some old band tee that Shadowheart had donated to him. It dropped to the floor near where Astarion’s robe had fallen. Gale’s jeans went next, until he was wearing only his briefs.
Astarion pulled away from him at that, his eyes locked onto his, as he slowly moved his fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs. Gale let out a soft hiss as the tips of Astarion’s fingers grazed against his cock as his fingers deftly moved the elastic further down, past his thighs down his knees, then entirely off.
Gale’s cock was sitting rock hard against the planes of his stomach. Astarion paused to look down at it, as if completing a complex equation in his mind. Gale blushed at his scrutiny. Astarion was probably a master of cocks for how much sex he had had, but given he didn’t remember much, it was hard to tap into that knowledge when he needed it. But from that’s limited knowledge, he could truthfully attest that Gale’s cock was much larger than the average. And it seemed to Astarion that he was aware of that, and yet extremely self conscious about it.
Astarion leaned forwards and licked a long stripe from the swell of his balls all the way to the tip. He pursed his lips over the tip, making Gale practically hiss. He watched as the other man bit at his knuckle to try and be quiet, a notion he quickly abandoned when Astarion took him in his mouth, then began to bob up and down, his lips moving further and further down the shaft until he finally sheathed its entirety in his throat. .
Gale tried to pull Astarion back, discourage him from deep throating his massive shaft that plunged down his throat. But Astarion wasn’t dissuaded. Instead he bobbed his head up and down in a slow almost twist, letting his tongue lap up and around the ridge of his veins.
“Astarion,” Gale whimpered from above, “I… I… I want…”
Astarion pulled off with a pop, then began to kiss up his body, starting with the lower plans of his stomach up over his ribs, then to the center of his chest. He paused for a moment as he came upon the skin stretched over his sternum, still buried beneath a silicon bandage.
The gunshot wound. It had been right here.
Astsrion shook his head, ejecting those memories from his mind for the moment, and crawled up to Gale.
“What? What do you want?” He whispered, before diving in and kissing the ex-corpo. He brought his hand back down his skin and gripped at his cock, stroking him slowly as he lavished him with kisses.
Gale broke free and gave a slight smirk.
“I want you to make you feel good, I want you to enjoy this,” Gale said, his hands reaching up, one caressing his cheek while the other ran up and down his back, just light enough to not tug on his scars. “I want you to feel something other than disgust when you see me.”
Astarion pressed down and kissed him, his hand leaving Gale’s cock to slowly work off his own shorts off. With a shiver, he pulled his silk shorts down, untangling from Gale to pull them off his legs and throw them to the side.
Gale couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Astarion’s fully naked form. A line over his belly button betrayed where the ripperdoc had gone in to tear out his stomach and install the cyberware one. His skin clung to his bones from a lack of any sort of body fat, long gone after his body swapped from food to a solution to satisfy basic caloric intakes. Under his belly, in the triangle of space leading down to his cock, Gale could make out the faint lines of square indentations in his skin. Then, as he looked at his cock, he blanched. He felt an unwilled shiver as he realized that Astarion had been given a cyberware implant into his penis.
“Mr. Studd…” Gale whispered under his breath, not meaning to even speak out loud. Astarion looked puzzled then looked down. His eyes grew dark, and he looked away from Gale for a moment.
“Yes, you can thank Cazador for that as well.”
Gale shook his head, then reached up and tipped Astarion’s chin so that he would look at him. Wordlessly, he pressed a soft kiss on the doll’s lips, a small prompt to continue if he wanted, or stop if he needed. Astarion paused, then dove back down and kissed him again, all teeth and heat.
“What… what would you want?” Gale managed to gasp out between breaths. Astarion had slotted his cock against his own and began slow ministrations so that they dragged against one another. The feeling of the ridges of his implant had Gale’s toes curling.
“I want to fuck you,” Astarion whispered, digging the tips of his fangs into Gale’s lip. “I want to have the power over you for once.”
Gale gulped. He had never done that before. While he has admittedly experimented with other men in his university days, it was never anything more than sloppy blow jobs and awkward hand jobs. Bottoming would be unfamiliar territory.
And Astarion’s throbbing cock with the cyberware implant seemed daunting. But also so potentially overwhelmingly pleasurable.
Astarion had moved his ministrations to Gale’s neck, kissing and nibbling at his skin, starting right beneath his jaw and diving down to his clavicle. Gale let his head fall back and began to reach towards the bedside table. His fingers fumbled a bit, but he managed to pluck one of the tiny bottles that sat there.
He reached for Astarion’s hand, and folded the bottle within it. When the doll looked back and met his gaze, he gave a soft nod.
“Then do it. Take your pleasure from me.”
Astarion didn’t move. In fact, it felt like the atmosphere in the room, once sweltering with the heat of their naked bodies pressed against one another, now cooled.
“No.” He finally said, his head dropping and a few white curls bouncing into his face. “No, I… I can’t.”
Gale, who felt practically about to explode from the arousal and passion of it all felt lost.
“Did I.. did I do something wrong? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do anything to make you uncomfortable. My only intention was to help you and-” Gale began to sputter, his head unhelpfully spiraling into the numerous ways he could have messed this up and how that measured for him as a person. He felt a nagging, biting thought in the corner of his mind: ‘you’re so deplorable that a doll won’t even sleep with you.’
“Just.. stop talking.” Astarion said, his breath evening after panting from breathless kisses. Gale obeyed, the anxiety in his stomach fluttering like a hundred angry hornets trying to crawl through his skin.
“But I don’t understand!” Gale exclaimed. Astarion sighed and leaned back, falling back onto his knees, his cock bobbing as it did.
“I don’t want to ‘take my pleasure from you.’ I don’t want to be like him or her.” Astarion muttered. At first, Gale didn’t follow, but then his mind helpfully caught him up to speed when he saw Astarion’s lip curl in disgust. “I don’t want to be Mystra to you. I don’t want to be Cazador to you.”
Gale slowly rose to sit, his hand reaching out to brush against Astarion’s knee.
“I… I didn’t mean to imply that you were…”
“No, you didn’t. But you were just as willing to let yourself be used. You didn’t even fucking blink.”
Gale tried, he really did, but the flicker of anger began to burn.
“I wanted to make you happy! I wanted to let you feel better about the shitty circumstances you are in.”
“By sacrificing yourself? By letting your body be used like a fucking tool?”
“I wasn’t going to let you just use me. I’m a human being with my own motivations.”
“Oh yeah? And what motivations were those? ‘That fucking doll is miserable so I’ll let him use me like a fleshlight so that he has a temporary moment of bliss as he cums, but then I’ll be back to square fucking one? The, I’m a deeply fucked up person as well, so might as well get off rather than confront my issues or understand his?’”
“No!” Gale rose from the bed, needing space between him and the doll. He blushed as he felt the need to cover himself, as if, since the moment of intimacy had passed, he now was standing naked in front of judging eyes. “No! Maybe I just, for one stupid moment, thought you might understand. Maybe I thought you could even find me attractive. That this was something I could share with you, not give to you from me.”
He bent over and grabbed his briefs, tugging them on quickly, before crossing his arms.
“And maybe I thought that something like this didn’t have to be a high stakes game? That it wasn’t just some power play. Like it always has been for me for the last eight years.”
Astarion looked at him, his mouth slightly parted with a tiny tint of teeth glinting through. He looked lost, confused.
Two broken people, they were.
Suddenly, the room was awash with bright fluorescent lights. Gale’s eyes drifted up to see that all the overhead lights had kicked on.
“Damn it,” Astarion cursed, his eyes darting to the smart glass, “the sessions over.”
“What? Wait, it’s over?”
“Your hour is up.” Astarion supplied, rising from the bed to grab and slip back into his silk shorts. Gale watched him but didn’t move.
The air was icy cold all of sudden. And the silence.
“Damn it, we still need to talk. I forgot to ask about the black SUV,” Gale cursed, more frustrated in himself for getting wrapped up in engaging in carnal pleasures rather than focusing on the work that needed to be done. Jaheira was going to be so angry.
“What? How do you know about that?” Astarion bristled, his eyes narrowing.
“Can I extend the session or something? I still need to talk to you.” Gale asked. He watched as Astarion’s eyes began to glow as he activated his optics, presumably to look at his calendar. As he did, his features warped into surprise.
“No, I’m booked after this, a VIP client. You have to go.” Astarion said, now moving with increased speed as he pulled on his robe and began to smooth out the wrinkles from the bedsheets. Gale felt something like jealousy, or loss. The idea that the moment they shared could be smoothed over until there was no trace.
Damn it, he couldn’t get attached to a doll. Particularly Astarion. He needed the doll to take down WeaveCorp. Everything else, even his growing attraction and affection needed to take second place to that.
“Can you meet me somewhere outside of this place?”
“No. I don’t have control of my schedule. I belong to the dollhouse, I can’t leave here.”
“When can I speak to you again?”
“You’ll have to book another session.” Astarion shrugged, finally turning and looking back at him. His red eyes didn’t have any of that welled up passion from before, nor the anger. Just a blankness, as the act began once again and he sunk into his role
Gale could feel himself blanch at the prospect of booking another appointment. He would need to come up with another thousand dollars.
“Fine,” he sighed, sliding back into his jeans and pulling his t-shirt over his chest. His fingers were shaky as he buttoned the fly of his pants and slotted his feet into his shoes. Once fully dressed, he felt himself lingering still.
He hated where they had left off. He needed to plan with Astarion on how the WeaveCorp infiltration would go, he needed to talk to him about the black SUV that tried to nab him.
But most of all, he wanted more of a chance to talk to Astarion, to really work out what they both needed. All of this was completely unrelated to the reasons he came here, but now it felt the most important.
Something about Astarion felt… safe. A chance for him to sort through the pieces of himself and try and build back what he had lost, while also helping the doll do the same.
“I will. I’ll book you again when I can, I promise.” Gale said, unable to help himself as he grabbed at Astarion’s hands and held them in his own. The doll instinctively flinched first, which made Gale’s heart sink.
Then, he felt brazen. He pulled at his hands and pulled him close. Before he could back down, he leaned forwards and pressed a chaste kiss to Astarion’s lips. The doll didn’t react, just let his eyes close for the moment their lips touched.
When he pulled away, Gale shot him a soft grin. The doll just looked to his feet, the slightest bit of pink brushing his cheeks. Something about it felt so genuine, so charming.
Before he could think more on that line of thoughts, he turned and slid out of the booth through the smart glass door. While his stomach was bubbling with a cauldron of emotions, dread was not one of of them.
That was until he heard a voice down the hall that grew louder as its owner drew closer. A familiar silken tone that drifted in the air like smoke in a brush fire.
“Well, well. It appears the vampire theme here is most appropriate, as I spy someone who came back from the dead.”
Gale froze in place, suddenly feeling like he had been turned to stone.
Raphael.
The slick corpo was dressed in a burgundy dress shirt with a navy vest. His slick shiny leather shoes clopped down the hall in the wooden flooring, and his voice echoed off the walls.
“It appears you have also fallen under the pale elf’s spell. Curious. As I recall, when you two first met, you practically tossed him across the room when he climbed into your lap.” Raphael drew close enough that there was barely a foot of space between them, “But now here you are, finding succor in his flesh. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Mystra has found a new plaything now, would it?”
Gale felt his fists ball up at his side as Raphael chuckled. His mind unhelpfully filled with that night at the banquet, just moments before she shot him. Her wandering eye locking on that corpo from Sune.
He should NOT be jealous. She had fucking shot him. But deep within the fibers of his being, in the very marrow of his bones, he felt a hurt and anguish that was immeasurable.
She tried to kill him, then she just moved on to the next.
He really did mean nothing to her.
His eyes began to burn, and before he did something he would regret, he shouldered past Raphael and stomped down the hall. He couldn’t handle the corpo right now, he felt like he was about to explode.
His fingers touched the shard in his neck. Just wait, he thought, just wait until I get back into WeaveCorp Tower.
He was going to bring it crumbling down. Him. Her. All of them. They would fall.