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ratedgforgale · 9 months ago

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Short Rest

“Darling,” the vampire drawls, “you didn't get all dressed up for me, did you?"

Pairing: Astarion x Gale

Summary: After acquiring the Wavemother's Robe, the party takes a well-deserved short rest, but when Astarion sees Gale in his new finery and accessories to match, rest is the last thing the wizard will be getting.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: M/M, Clothed Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Coming Untouched, Wavemother's Robe, Lace Panties, Shameless Smut

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 2,268

Author's Note: Have y'all been enjoying these little Toxic Bloodweave™ oneshots? I've got one more plan where the tables will finally turn on Astarion...

AO3

Fic Master List

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“I– I think I’ll just change back!” Gale’s voice squeaks uncomfortably from behind the curtain of the changing room at the boutique.

“Oh, come on!” Tav whines. “Let us see! Everyone else did.”

“Everyone else is wearing regular armor,” the wizard counters, “or at least not showing off every inch of skin the gods gave you.”

“Aw, a bit of ankle won't scandalize us, Gale!” Karlach cheers encouragingly.

“It’s rather more than ‘a bit of ankle’—you can see my hips! Can't I at least preserve a bit of my dignity?”

“Ugh, you have no sense of fashion,” Shadowheart chimes in. “Those old trunks would look ridiculous with the robe. You need something to match. Unless, of course, you'd rather wear nothing at all. That would be best, actually, with that cut–”

“Alright, fine, I’m coming out!”

Gale finally pulls back the curtain, eyes sheepishly averted and face blushing redder than a devil’s backside. Tav, Karlach, and Shadowheart all smile appreciatively and reassure him that he looks fine. Good, even.

“Actually, you look pretty damn delicious,” Karlach teases.

Gale’s blush creeps down his neck and chest, which they can all see now, thanks to how exposed the new robe of delicate blue scales and fine silver chainwork leaves him. He does feel more powerful though. He can't deny the magical benefits of the hard-won garment; he just wishes there were a bit more to it.

“And see? You can barely see the new smalls,” Tav remarks with an I-told-you-so smirk.

“Because there’s barely anything to them,” he mutters, shifting uncomfortably as the scrap of lace and silk hugs him snugly. He’s had to pull the straps up high so that the thin chains hugging his hips will conceal them, pulling it even more tightly. It’s practically kissing his anus, and he shifts uncomfortably, trying to smooth flat the edges of the robe.

“Stop pulling at it like that and just stand and walk normally,” Shadowheart chides. “You look splendid, Gale. Really.”

“Shall we get back to the Elfsong for some lunch before heading out again?” Tav suggests while they hand over the payment to Figaro. “Just a quick bite and a breather.”

The inn isn't all that far, but the walk feels like an eternity to Gale. The midday sun glares down on them, and while he knows the others must be baking in their armor, he is unused to feeling the heat of it so directly. His newly bared skin soon glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, and it seems as though every eye is on him as the sunlight glints off the delicate shimmering scales of the robe. The strange, liquid-like cloth hugs every curve, and he knows from his quick, blushing glances in the dressing room mirror that it leaves little to the imagination.

Despite his abashment, or perhaps a little because of it, the thought of lustful gazes ogling him sends a thrill down his spine. The sweating, hulking workers, restless in the afternoon heat, turning their attention on him, tearing the flimsy fabric from his body, leering at the lace barely holding him in place…

The wizard gasps softly as a cooling breeze whispers between his legs and caresses the inside of his thighs. To everyone else the breeze is a welcome balm for the hot sun, but he can barely hold back a moan as he begins to stiffen under its gentle teasing, his mind easily supplying the fantasy of another’s touch there.

Mercifully, they soon arrive back at the Elfsong before Gale can truly embarrass himself. Karlach excuses herself for a quick pint in the tavern, and Tav and Shadowheart chatter about something he misses in his distraction as they make their way upstairs. While they leave to remove their armor and join the others who are already sitting down for lunch, he quickly darts back to the corner where he bunks, muttering something about a nap, before anyone can see or remark on his appearance.

Except Astarion is stretched out on the bed next to his, one arm casually bent behind his head and the other stretched out supporting a book he skims with a look of boredom. He perks up, however, at the sight of the wizard, and a devious smirk tugs at his mouth.

“Darling,” the vampire drawls, “you didn't get all dressed up for me, did you?”

“Astarion,” Gale answers shortly, busying himself with putting his staff away so Astarion won’t see him blush. “Not joining the others?”

“I’m afraid the menu isn't to my taste. But I’m sure our dear Tav will join me for a bite later. Besides,” he slowly, deliberately, drags his ruby gaze over Gale’s body, “I’ve my own personal feast right here.”

Gale’s blush returns with a vengeance, staining his cheeks and following the neckline plunging down his torso. He watches as Astarion’s eyes follow its path, inexorably drawn to the bulge beginning to show at the front of his robe. He might as well be naked.

“It-it’s quite the upgrade from my previous robe,” he says in a rush. “And its procurement was no easy feat.”

“Well, it’s about time you’ve finally taken some fashion advice,” Astarion replies, snapping his book shut and smoothly rising from the bed. He moves to stand in front of Gale, just a breath too close in his personal space. He trails a single elegant finger over the silver chain running down Gale’s breastbone. “What a pretty thing.”

Gale swallows, his mouth suddenly too dry. This is exactly why he didn't want to wear the robe in the first place, and now Astarion is looking at him like nothing more than a piece of meat. But that same heat from his earlier fantasy about the dock workers ogling him flares through his body, rooting him to the spot as Astarion inspects his outfit.

“Such fine craftsmanship,” Astarion continues, appreciatively running his fingertips over the fragile-looking silver links crisscrossing Gale’s hip bones. He slips them under the thin strips of lace concealed beneath them and gives the slightest of tugs. The elf whispers, low and sensuous, “And I notice you've been properly accessorized. Let me see.”

He's only human, and already flustered. With trembling hands, he grasps the edges of the front of the robe and pulls it up and to the side, revealing the dainty white thong and his half-hard cock nestled within. The way Astarion’s pupils dilate ever so slightly sends a jolt straight through him, and his cock twitches in response.

An approving hum buzzes in Astarion’s throat. “Delicious,” he murmurs.

But instead of moving his hands lower towards the mouth-watering sight, Astarion drags them upward, skimming over the strange, skin-tight cloth barely covering Gale’s chest. He traces the delicate foamy lacework decorating the edges before pushing it back, exposing Gale’s nipples. His tongue flicks out from between his thin lips in hungry anticipation. He grasps the sensitive buds between his fingertips, deftly pinching and tugging until they are stiff. Gale opens his mouth intending to object, but only a needy whimper comes out.

“What’s that, darling?” Astarion murmurs deviously.

“We can’t… not here… the others might see…” Gale gasps out between breathy little moans.

“I know you don't have an elf’s keen senses, wizard, but even you can hear that they're all quite occupied.” Indeed, snatches of conversation, peals of laughter, and the sounds of food being prepared and eaten drift over from the lounge by the fireplace.

Gale is suddenly moving as Astarion takes hold of his hips, spins him around, and lifts the back of his robe. The elf curves a cool palm over Gale’s rump and gives it a firm squeeze before slipping a finger under the strap of his thong and tugging. Gale’s lips part in a soft moan as the soft material grazes his sensitive anus and pulls tightly against this stiffening cock.

“Hush now,” Astarion whispers, yanking the thin fabric aside. “We wouldn't want our fun ruined because you can't keep quiet.” He snakes his other arm around Gale’s torso, sliding up his chest and resting his hand, fingers splayed, at the base of his throat.

Gale shivers at the careful measure of aloe oil suddenly being poured down his seam. When Astarion’s hand slips between his cheeks and finds the tight pucker of muscle, his cool fingers are generously coated as well.

Astarion’s voice is low and silky in his ear as he circles and teases Gale’s rim with gentle pressure. “Be a good boy and keep holding that up. We can’t have you soiling your gorgeous new robe, can we?”

Ostensibly true, but the vampire’s two-fold intentions are clear: should anyone approach their corner of the suite, there will be no mistaking the state Gale is in, and he is not to touch himself. Yet it's the thought of Tav rounding the corner and catching them that brings his cock to full hardness, even as his face burns with shame. He’s twitching and leaking in his underwear, and Astarion’s finger hasn’t even breached him yet.

His breath hisses as a cold finger presses into him, just to the first joint, then withdraws momentarily before pushing back in. With each repetition, Astarion pushes his finger deeper, gently fucking more oil into Gale’s tight heat. He turns it slowly, meticulously slicking up his walls while deliberately avoiding where Gale wants the pressure most.

“You're relaxing beautifully for me, darling. I think you're ready for another.”

Gale barely avoids biting his own tongue to stifle his moan as Astarion withdraws his finger completely only to press back into him with two. The pleasurable burn of the stretch makes his cock throb with need.

“Please,” he whispers desperately, “let me touch it.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Astarion hisses back. The hand at the base of Gale’s neck slides upwards and tightens in a warning squeeze. “I said keep quiet.”

The fingers on his throat makes his cock throb almost as much as the ones in his hole, but he quietens as best he can while Astarion continues to stretch him open. The slick sounds of the vampire’s long fingers fucking in and out of him mingle with his soft whimpers, and Astarion sighs like it’s music to his ears. When they deliberately, maddeningly lightly graze against his prostate, Gale shudders as his cock twitches and weeps.

“Mmm, you want more, my sweet?”

“Your cock,” Gale gasps. “Please, I need your cock.”

A dark chuckle slips from Astarion’s lips. “Greedy thing. I’m afraid we don't have the time nor the privacy for me to fuck you properly, but I think you've earned another finger.”

A third oiled digit pushes in, and Gale curses softly, both at being filled even more and being denied the elf’s cock. He imagines what the cold, hard member must feel like when Astarion suddenly twists his fingers, expertly stroking against Gale’s prostate properly for the first time. He spreads his fingers as he does so, simultaneously stretching him wider while stimulating the swollen spot, and it's enough to bring tears to Gale’s eyes.

“Oh gods.”

“I think our friends are finishing up.” The smile in Astarion's voice is cruel as he fucks Gale’s hole hard and fast. “Think you can finish before they do?”

“Please,” Gale moans, knowing he has to beg. “Please, let me come. I… n-need you to make me come!”

Astarion pulls Gale close, forcing his back to arch even more as he breathes in his ear, “Alright then, come for me.”

He squeezes his throat and presses fully into his prostate. Gale sees stars as his climax tears through him with burning intensity.

“Yes, that’s it, wizard. Come in your pretty white panties.” Astarion continues massaging that spot as Gale’s untouched cock pulses, releasing spurt after spurt of hot seed that soaks the delicate lace and silk and spills onto his thigh. “Let it all out.”

Somehow, when the orgrasm wracking his body has wrung him dry, Gale is still standing, though heavily supported by Astarion’s arm wrapped around his chest. He whimpers as Astarion slowly withdraws his fingers, leaving his hole gaping. When the strap of his thong slides back into place, he winces as it tugs against his puffy rim.

“Now, show me that delicious mess you made,” Astarion commands softly.

Still holding his robe aside, Gale turns, knees wobbling. The delicate panties are soaked through with his spend, and some has even dribbled onto his thigh. The vampire’s nostrils flare, his eyes flash. His lips are curved in a mocking sneer, but when he runs a finger through the creamy mess smeared over Gale’s softening cock and pops it into his mouth, a low moan of pleasure betrays his lust. Gale can't help but stare at his throat as he swallows.

“Exquisite,” the elf murmurs, almost reverently.

“Gale?”

Tav's voice and approaching footsteps from across the suite snaps them both out of the moment. Gale casts a muttered prestidigitation to clean up, and by the time they poke their head past the screen a moment later, Astarion is once again lounging on his bed with his book, and Gale is smoothing down the front of his robe.

“Did you have a good rest? We need to head back out.”

“I am right behind you,” Gale answers with false cheeriness, very much not well-rested and wanting nothing more than to collapse upon the bed. But he grabs his staff and follows Tav.

“Good luck with the murder investigation!” Astarion calls after them.

Gale blushes once more, feeling that searing gaze on his naked back as they leave.

#oh my god #my face red #bloodweave #fic rec #nsft

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