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bloodlessbhaalbabe · 1 year ago

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Pleading the Fifth - Part Two: Unwrapping a Present

Summary: Now that Astarion and Halsin spent the night together, the desire they feel for one another strengthens and Astarion wants to treat Halsin to a little gift.

Rating: Explicit

Length: 6,328 Words

Relationship: Halsin & Astarion, Halstarion

Modern!AU, CEO Halsin and Lawyer Astarion.

Yet again, thank you so much to @tatterings & @lotsofthinkythoughts for beta-ing and reviewing. I wouldn't be writing without you two. <3

Part One on Tumblr or AO3 // Part Two on AO3 & Below

Part Two

The following morning, Astarion woke up pressed between Halsin and the chaise, his legs and arms sprawled across the larger man’s body. Both his eyes and mouth were dry and the corners of his eyes were crusty. His typically coiffed waves were spiraled in all directions. His bangs flopped down onto his forehead. He blinked into the distance and took a half-lidded look around the office. Towels and blankets littered the floor, and the soft morning sun filtered through the sides of the window shades. Underneath him, Halsin stopped snoring; he twitched slightly as he was awakened by the shift in pressure at his side. He opened his eyes, blinking blurrily until they focused on the white puff of hair below him.

Halsin ran his fingers through Astarion’s silky strands and pushed them from his forehead. The muscles in his arm ached, sore from last night’s exercise.

“There you are,” Halsin joked with a smile, “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

Astarion blinked slowly up at him with a straight face. Halsin’s hand trailed down to brush away some dried spittle that lingered on the corner of Astarion’s mouth with his thumb.

“Mmph,” Astarion grunted in response before laying his head back down. His nose pressed into Halsin’s neck.

“Ah, not a morning person. Our afternoon meetings make a lot more sense now,” Halsin said with a chuckle. He ran his fingers softly up and down Astarion’s back, noting the way his fingertips caught on a few ridges on the lawyer’s skin.

“And you being a morning person makes perfect sense,” Astarion mumbled into Halsin’s skin.

Halsin chuckled and pressed a kiss into Astarion’s forehead, his hand cupping Astarion’s jaw. He gently tilted Astarion’s face upward. Halsin leaned down, pressing his lips to Astarion’s, and kissed him slowly. Their tongues gently danced against one another, neither one of them caring about the taste of their morning breath. Astarion moaned happily into the kiss; the sides of his mouth curled into a smile. Halsin pulled away, his teeth slightly dragging against Astarion’s bottom lip.

“Let me buy you breakfast,” Halsin whispered against his lips. “A coffee. Croissant. Anything.”

“If you insist,” Astarion laughed softly and pushed himself up from Halsin’s embrace.

Both men moved to sit up. Halsin ran his tired hands over his face and through his hair as a makeshift comb. He pressed his hands onto his knees and stood up with a grunt.

Most of the morning was spent in contented silence as both men wandered through the office; it could bear no evidence of their after-hours activities. Astarion shuffled along, pulling on his clothes and tidying up the office. Halsin jogged up to the roof to retrieve the empty bottle, glasses, and shirts from the night before; he took special care to clean any remaining residue from their endeavors. As Halsin walked back into his office, he caught Astarion bent over, placing the neatly folded blankets back into the closet.

Halsin’s eyes trailed down Astarion’s back and saw a handful of raised, scarred circles dotted over his skin. He frowned as he observed them, wondering how he had missed them entirely during their shower together. The marks looked as though they had been mindfully placed to keep them well-hidden. Curiosity pulled at him. Not wanting to cause unnecessary awkwardness, he chose not to ask about them and pushed it to the back of his mind for now. A heaviness in his chest lingered momentarily, but faded once Astarion turned around and greeted him with a smile.

Astarion plucked his shirt from Halsin’s grasp and thanked him with a kiss on his cheek.

The men took one last look around the room and nodded at their job well done. Without a word, Astarion strode out of the office and turned to look at Halsin.

“Stay there a moment,” Astarion requested, as his hand lingered on the door handle. “I’m going to close this. In five seconds, I need you to scream as loud as you can.”

Halsin cocked his head in confusion and a wide smile crinkled his eyes. “Very well,” he said, amusement rising in his voice.

Astarion closed the door and took a step back, counting down the seconds. Nothing. He smirked to himself and opened the door again. “Did you do it?”

“Yes, I did. As loud as I could possibly yell,” Halsin laughed.

“Interesting,” Astarion said. His eyes glittered with mischief.

“Why?” Halsin asked using Astarion’s same inflection. “You’re not planning on killing me, are you?”

Astarion looked up at Halsin with wide, innocent eyes. “No, no. Just wanted to test a theory. Don’t worry about it, darling,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Halsin’s eyebrows pinched together. His thoughts spiraled to what Astarion could have up his sleeve. He defaulted to ideas that were not workplace appropriate, and his heart pounded in his chest. Halsin shook his head and exhaled at the lawyer, letting him have two secrets for now.

After breakfast, they parted ways with a kiss and a promise; they would keep in contact over the weekend until their standing meeting on Monday afternoon.

Halsin returned home for the evening. He padded around the dark hardwood floors, checking his phone as it buzzed, embracing the warmth of contentment with every message received from Astarion. For the first time in a long while, Halsin’s shoulders did not sag with the weight of loneliness that often came with how isolated his property was. Instead, while chatting with Astarion, he found comfort in the quiet solitude of his home.

Late into the night, Halsin had texted Astarion that he was heading to bed for the evening. Astarion’s reply was almost immediate:

What are you wearing?

Moments later, Astarion’s portrait glowed on Halsin’s caller ID. His heart skipped a beat before he answered. His inquiry devolved into a heated, breathy conversation which ended with both men’s hands wrapped around their own cocks and covered in their own spend.

Their texting conversation carried on throughout the day Sunday. Both men sent pictures of their events for the weekend. Halsin stayed home to clean up his house after not having been there in about a week, while Astarion had been invited by a friend to go to a drag show.

That evening, Halsin’s phone vibrated in his pocket every few minutes. Images of Astarion’s friends dancing and wearing lingerie poured into Halsin’s phone. Halsin smiled as he scrolled through them, admiring the slightly drunk grin plastered upon Astarion’s face.

You are a vision, Astarion. Let me know if you need someone to give you a ride home, Halsin texted.

Yu jst want 2 see me agin 😘, Astarion sloppily replied . His horrible grammar, unheard of during their normal communications, pulled a laugh from Halsin.

That is true, but I will not intrude on your night out. I only want for your safety, my heart, Halsin replied. Before he had the opportunity to lock his phone, three little dots jumped along the bottom of his screen as Astarion typed out his response.

AwwWw, so cute. Im saf. 😇Promise. The dots popped up immediately after Halsin received his message. Next tim ur coming with me.

Halsin’s thumbs pecked out his response: Are you going to be performing in lingerie like your friends? His thumb hovered over the “send” button. He bit his lip as he sent his response.

You wuld like that, woulnt you? 😈, read Astarion’s reply.

Absolutely. Halsin smiled at his phone. He felt himself swaying side to side as he sat on his bed. He nearly laughed when he realized he could kick his feet at how giddy Astarion made him feel. It was like he was a teenager again, waiting for his crush to call him after school.

Astarion’s response was suddenly free of typos and emojis: That could be arranged. The animated dots appeared again, and moments later, a second half flickered onto Halsin’s screen: If you’re good enough.

Halsin sucked in a deep breath as he typed his reply. Looking forward to it.

Their chats dwindled after that, but Halsin tossed under his blankets waiting for one last text from Astarion letting him know he got home safely.

He received a picture of Astarion with one of his friends, a shorter girl with long black hair and bangs, kissing him on the cheek that read: Made it home safe. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Halsin smiled to himself, his cheeks aching from grinning all day. He set the alarm on his phone and snuggled down into his bed, quickly falling asleep.

___________________

The following Monday, Halsin sat behind his desk, although the word ‘sitting’ had to be used loosely. He was nearly vibrating with energy; his leg bounced as he read and re-read his emails. He glanced over at the clock as it ticked closer to noon.

Astarion had messaged him an hour ago. It was a picture of his calendar reminder of their meeting with a text that said: See you soon.

Halsin had not been able to focus the entire morning, even before the text. He had gone to the gym in his building as soon as he arrived to burn off some of his energy, but it did not help.

Halsin felt silly at the way he felt nervous about seeing Astarion all of a sudden. His heart had raced since he woke up that morning. They had seen each other regularly for years prior and he had never been jittery. He had always been pleased to see his lawyer, and had thoroughly enjoyed his company and friendship over the years. But that pleasure paled in comparison with the intensity he felt now.

He showered, sprayed on cologne, and walked around in a circle. He made eye contact with himself in his office’s bathroom mirror. A smile pulled at the sides of his lips.

“Get it together, Halsin,” he told the mirror, “It’s just Astarion.”

He noticed that his eyes dilated at the mere mention of his name. Halsin groaned. The feeling of his heart pounding in his chest returned; he sucked in a deep breath to calm himself as he left the bathroom and sat behind his computer.

After the first hour passed, Halsin was caught up on work. The pressing matter of his legal troubles would come later - whenever Astarion got there. His meeting was four hours away. Halsin stood up and decided to keep busy by making his rounds, speaking to his employees, checking in on their projects and chatting about their weekend.

He had gone through ten floors before he found himself back behind his desk once again, his leg bouncing, and watching the time slowly tick away.

Right on time, the ding of the elevator sounded and Halsin’s eyes shot up from his desktop. Astarion waltzed out, a hand in his pocket and a smirk upon his face.

Astarion’s body language was clear - he knew he was being watched from the moment he stepped into the lobby. Halsin’s mouth fell open as Astarion leaned over the receptionist's desk and smiled at her, engaging in some friendly banter as he normally did whenever he came in.

He wore a new suit. Under his coat, was a deep burgundy jacket paired with a silky, black button up and a matching black tie. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, but instead accessorized with a golden watch, his trademark hoop earrings, a few shiny rings, and freshly-polished black leather shoes.

Halsin stood up, adjusted his trousers in the front, and walked around his desk to lean against his door frame. He crossed his arms, taking in the absolutely stunning man in front of him. Astarion glanced over and gave him a wink before returning to his conversation. Halsin’s breath caught in his throat and he clenched his jaw to maintain his composure. A curl dropped down onto Astarion’s forehead as he spoke. He dragged his fingers through his hair to put it back into place.

Halsin’s heart pounded in his ears. His fingers dug into his bicep and before he knew it he was yelling across the floor, "Astarion! I don't have all day!"

Astarion jumped and looked over at Halsin. His head cocked over to one side with his eyebrows raised. He licked his bottom lip before slowly dragging his teeth over it.

The office had gone silent; everyone’s heads turned to look at Halsin and then over at Astarion. Halsin felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He had never raised his voice before to anyone.

Astarion apologized to the receptionist and stood up straight, pulling his satchel up his shoulder. His eyes blazed with intrigue as he made his way to Halsin’s office. He maintained eye contact the entire time, seemingly blind of the curious onlookers.

Halsin stepped to the side and let Astarion pass through; he pulled the door shut just a little too hard, for good measure. The window shades fell shut with two quick pulls of the cords.

Just as the shades fell to the bottom of the window frames, Astarion dropped his satchel. He rushed at Halsin, grabbing him by the collar and pressing him up against the wall. A wicked, teasing grin lit up his face.

"Oh, I love it when you play boss with me,” Astarion leered, leaning in close. He rose to his tiptoes to do so. “You made everyone think that you’re mad at me, but they have no idea."

Halsin’s hands cupped each side of Astarion’s face as he pulled him into a desperate kiss. His tongue teased across the lawyer’s lips. Astarion opened his mouth and pressed his thigh between Halsin’s legs, pulling out a moan from the larger man.

Halsin was already half-hard in his slacks. Halsin’s hands moved from Astarion’s face to his waist, pulling him in closer, flush against his chest and firmly against his groin. Halsin pulled his lips away, breathless, and rested his forehead against Astarion’s.

"I missed you," Halsin said softly against his lips.

"It's been a day and a half," Astarion replied, leaning into his tall frame.

"I don't see your point," Halsin smiled, leaning forward to give him a quick peck. "You look phenomenal… but if you expect me to take anything you say seriously today, you chose your wardrobe poorly."

Astarion took a step back and did a little spin, smiling as Halsin lustfully ogled him from his position against the wall. “Well darling, normally I wouldn’t hide all of this behind layers when I see you, especially now,” he admitted coyly.

Halsin swallowed, completely transfixed on the lawyer’s movements as Astarion shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the desk. Halsin’s hands clenched into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms.

“But there was just… something about the idea of you unwrapping me like a present that intrigued me,” Astarion turned around, bringing his finger up to his lips in faux thought. His eyes dragged down Halsin’s massive form and he smiled, pleasantly delighted by Halsin’s feral, hungry gaze.

Halsin pushed himself from the wall. But before he could pull Astarion into another kiss, the smaller man’s hands grabbed Halsin’s wrists. Halsin allowed himself to be guided backwards until he felt the chaise on the back of his calves. Astarion gently pressed his hands against Halsin’s chest and forced him back onto the cushioned seat.

Halsin looked up at him, pupils practically taking up his entire iris, dilated in lust. Astarion brought up one of his smooth, polished shoes and pressed it onto Halsin’s throbbing groin. Halsin whimpered at the pressure, wrapping his large hands around Astarion’s leg, and rutted himself up against the sole of Astarion’s new Italian shoes.

Astarion pressed harder onto his groin, pulling out a moan from Halsin. "Ah, ah, ah, these were expensive. Untie them please."

Halsin’s hands slid down his leg and eagerly untied the knots in his laces. Astarion pulled his leg away, agonizingly slowly, and switched his feet. He pressed the hardened bottom of his other shoe onto the larger man’s aching member.

“And this one," Astarion commanded. His hands perched on each hip as he loomed over Halsin.

He grinned at Halsin’s restraint; Halsin’s teeth dug into his bottom lip, leaving indents behind in an attempt to control himself. Halsin untied Astarion’s shoe then grabbed his calf once more and pulled him closer, whimpering softly at the added pressure against his crotch. He ached to press kisses into Astarion’s shin, but just as soon as his lips brushed against the soft fabric of Astarion’s slacks, the lawyer pulled his leg away.

"Sweet Halsin, I didn't say you could touch me yet,” Astarion chastised, clicking his tongue in disapproval. He slowly took a few steps back. "You're going to sit there like a good boy and watch."

Astarion tugged at his tie, pulling it from its perfect knot, and tossed it on over to the desk.

“Seems like you’re the one doing the unwrapping,” Halsin huffed and leaned over, bracing his elbows on his knees. Halsin noticed a twitch of Astarion’s lips at his comment before he composed himself.

“Hmm, you’re right. But I’ve known you for years now. Your tells are obvious to me; I knew you would like this more,” Astarion replied, his fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. It revealed a matching black tank top. Halsin swallowed, his throat bobbing visibly.

Astarion turned to face the desk, away from Halsin, as he let the shirt slowly slide down his arms. He delicately folded it atop his coat. Halsin admired the lean muscles that rippled along Astarion’s back. Halsin squinted at the lawyer in curiosity. More straps peeked from the fabric of the tank top.

As Astarion grabbed his undershirt on either side and pulled it above his head, Halsin’s eyes widened. Astarion continued to face away, so only the wall would witness his giddy smile. He heard a gasp catch in Halsin’s throat.

Wrapped around Astarion’s pale torso were several matte black straps. The straps met in the middle and rose vertically along Astarion’s spine. They were attached to a fabric collar circling Astarion’s throat. More delicate straps descended his sides, accentuating his hips before disappearing into his slacks. Lingerie. He was wrapped up like a present, indeed.

Halsin’s mind flashed to their conversation yesterday. That could be arranged. If you’re good enough.

Halsin slid his hand against his slacks. His fingertips grazed over his erection that pulsed against his thigh, gingerly stroking it as Astarion removed each garment. His cock pulsed at the slightest touch. A small wet spot of pre-cum soaked into the fabric of his pants. His other hand rested under his chin as he leaned forward.

Halsin’s eyes locked onto Astarion as he followed every movement. Desire pooled deep and ached inside Halsin’s stomach. Never before this moment had he felt a stronger urge to tear anyone apart with his teeth– to lick every divot Astarion had on his body from head to toe. Halsin’s mind went hazy with the need to devour Astarion. He needed Astarion to satisfy all of his senses.

Most of the time Halsin was a patient man. But watching him was excruciating. It was as though his skin was vibrating. His jaw clenched and he huffed out a breath of air. He wanted Astarion carnally.

Astarion pushed his toes onto the backs of his shoes and kicked them to the side. His rings hit the desk with a clatter. His hands shook slightly with excitement as they caressed his own body, sliding from his ribs down his waist, toward his belt. He hooked his thumbs behind his belt, pulling at it slightly.

He was being an insufferable tease. Halsin smacked his lips, trying to remedy the dryness in his mouth. “Astarion…” Halsin whimpered softly.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of Astarion’s mouth. He unlatched the leather belt, pulling it from the loops then placed it on the desk. His hands drifted back to the button of his slacks, undoing them slowly and sliding down the zipper.

His hands slid tauntingly over his skin as he tucked his fingers into the waistline and pushed down his slacks over his ass, bending over at the waist, until the fabric bunched at his ankles.

Astarion’s asscheeks looked almost damp as they glistened. Tucked in between his cheeks was a black lacy thong. Above the waistband of the panties was a banded garter belt resting snuggly against his hips. Halsin’s eyes followed the suspenders on the belt down; hooked into the thick bands of the black mesh stockings. The stockings accentuated Astarion’s well-muscled legs; Halsin’s cock pulsed again in response to the sight.

Astarion turned around and leaned back against the desk. Halsin’s eyes trailed upwards, taking in every detail of his outfit. Astarion shivered with delight; he felt like a three-course meal, set before a starving man.

Astarion’s cock pushed against the delicate fabric of his lacy panties; its flushed head slightly peeked up over the waistband. Around his chest was a matching bralette with a lacy leaf design covering up his nipples. The entire set was decorated with little golden studs where the straps connected. He looked expensive– like a piece of art painted by the finest renaissance artist.

Astarion, as though he had practiced choreography, bashfully looked down to the floor. He ran his hands up his thigh, grazing over the fabric covering his cock, and up his stomach. As his fingers pulled at the strap of his bralette, he raised his eyes to Halsin’s hunched-over figure. Halsin’s own erection pushed at the seams of his pants as he gawked, slack-jawed at the man in front of him.

"Astarion," Halsin whispered, pulling himself to the edge of his chair. "Please... Let me touch you."

"I’ll allow it,” Halsin moved to stand. “But only if you crawl.”

Halsin glanced up at Astarion and laughed, shaking his head and smiling wildly.

There was no question from him. In an instant, he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled over, his throbbing erection bouncing between his legs, straining against his slacks. Halsin pressed his lips to both of Astarion’s mesh-covered feet, then kissed his way up Astarion’s legs.

He paused for a moment to drag his wide tongue over the fabric covering Astarion’s cock. The lawyer shivered at his ministrations. Halsin sat back on his feet, and wrapped his large hands around Astarion’s hips. Astarion ran his fingers through Halsin's hair and took a small step closer.

"Do you want me, Halsin?" Astarion asked, his tone dripping with seduction.

Halsin had no voice; Astarion had stolen his breath away. He could only press his forehead and nose against Astarion's stomach. He nodded, a whimper rumbling in his throat.

“Well, well,” Astarion said, "You're an obedient pup, but way too quiet. I like it when my dogs bark. Do you want me, Halsin?"

"More than anything," Halsin choked out, as he looked up at Astarion. He smiled wide and brought his mouth closer to his lover’s twitching cock. Astarion pressed his hips forward as Halsin slid his tongue over the fabric once more, sucking on his length through the lace.

Astarion gasped softly, before pulling his hips backward. "Then beg,” he said, his voice a little unsteady.

Halsin dismissed his command with a smirk. He had been teased long enough. His hand pressed into the skin on Astarion’s inner thigh as his tongue slid along the edge of the fabric, trying to get a taste of him. Halsin’s mouth watered as it brushed against Astarion’s tender flesh. Astarion shivered and tightened his grip on Halsin’s hair. A warning.

Halsin again disregarded him, and nosed his way under the fabric. His teeth nipped at the edge of the lace and pulled until Astarion’s throbbing erection sprang loose.

Halsin had just opened his lips to wrap them around the head of Astarion’s cock when he felt a sharp tug at the crown of his head. Astarion had pulled his head backwards, away from his erection. It glistened at the tip, wet with pre-cum. Halsin pleaded with Astarion using only his big, round eyes.

"You can't beg with my cock in your mouth,” Astarion spat, his nose crinkling in mock frustration. He grabbed Halsin’s chin and pulled his mouth open, “But if you want it so badly then take it."

He thrust his cock into Halsin's eager mouth. A surprised moan vibrated the head of Astarion’s cock as it hit the back of Halsin’s throat. Halsin moved his hands to rest on Astarion's asscheeks, fingers pressing into his skin, letting Astarion grab him by the hair and fuck his mouth. Halsin’s eyes closed in focus, gagging only for a moment, before controlling his breathing.

"You seem to have forgotten who's actually in charge here. I don't give a shit whose name is on the door, Halsin,” Astarion grunted, sliding his cock deeper until Halsin’s nose was flush against his pubic bone. "You'll know your place soon enough."

Tears pooled in Halsin’s eyes but he moaned in agreement. Astarion gasped as Halsin pulled back just slightly. The larger man sucked on his aching shaft and swirled his tongue around the head of Astarion’s cock.

Pressure bubbled low in Astarion’s groin. Halsin felt Astarion’s grip tighten even further on his hair, and his belly fluttered with excitement as he prepared himself for Astarion’s climax. To his surprise, Astarion pulled his hips away. Astarion shoved at Halsin’s chest, hard, and he fell onto his back onto the office floor.

Halsin opened his mouth to protest, but Astarion took a step closer to him.

"Take off your pants... Now,” the lawyer commanded, his cock bobbing as he drew in ragged breaths.

Halsin nodded and immediately pulled his shirt from his pants. He unfastened his belt and then his pants buttons, his fingers slick from the lube Astarion used to prep himself. Halsin toed off his shoes. In one swift motion his pants and underwear were off and kicked to the side. Astarion stepped over his legs and placed his feet on either side of the large man’s torso.

“You’re going to do as I ask.” Astarion said as he brought up a foot and gently pressed it onto his neck. "Beg, Halsin."

Halsin gasped, eyes wide in shock. Astarion added just a little bit more pressure, but not enough to prevent him from breathing. Halsin admired how controlled he was with his body and nearly grinned.

"Astarion, please..." Halsin choked out.

"Please what? Tell me what you want."

"You. I want–” Halsin corrected himself, “I need to fuck you. Please."

Astarion paused and stepped off of Halsin. He dropped to straddle Halsin’s waist. "No."

Halsin sucked in a deep breath. "What?"

Astarion’s hand darted behind him; he pulled aside the panty string and pushed Halsin's cock against his prepped rim. His eyelids fluttered at the pressure against his entrance.

"I'm fucking you."

Astarion slowly slid down until he was flush with Halsin's skin. Astarion stilled for a moment as he gasped, not nearly as prepared as he was when he was at home. He rose up just slightly and pressed back down. Halsin groaned and panted with every movement. His hands came up to cup Astarion’s lace covered chest, pinching his nipples through the fabric. Astarion shivered and rocked his hips up and down Halsin’s shaft

“Your office is soundproof, Halsin,” Astarion moaned as he filled himself entirely, tip to root with Halsin’s cock. “And I want to hear all of the pretty noises I’m pulling out of you.”

Halsin involuntarily let out a moan.

“That’s a good boy. Just like that,” Astarion said breathlessly. He leaned forward and gently pressed his hands around Halsin’s throat, pressing firmly on either side of his neck. Halsin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head with each push and pull of Astarion’s hips. The large man whimpered as he got closer to release.

Halsin’s hands dug into Astarion’s hips. With each rise up, he pushed Astarion back down. A tear trickled from the corner of one eye and down the side of his face as the pressure built inside of him.

Astarion slammed himself again onto Halsin’s cock and Halsin made a choking noise. He thrust his hips up Astarion, emptying himself inside. Astarion grinned and slowly released his grip on Halsin’s neck as Halsin’s cock pulsed deep within him.

Halsin’s vision blurred for a moment before he sucked in a deep breath, letting out a little breathy laugh.

“Fuck, Astarion,” Halsin exhaled, unable to hide his delighted smile.

Astarion leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Halsin's and kissed him softly. Halsin chased his lips as Astarion pulled back.

"How are you doing, darling?" Astarion said softly, his hands brushing gently against Halsin’s neck. Halsin sighed happily and stroked Astarion's cheek with his thumb. He pulled the smaller man down and kissed his cheek, jaw, and neck.

“You didn’t come yet,” Halsin murmured against his skin.

“You’re observant,” Astarion whispered, a smile spreading across his face, “and we’re not done.”

Astarion lifted himself off of Halsin’s cock, feeling Halsin’s spend dribble out slightly. Halsin grunted at the over stimulation.

“I told you that I’m fucking you,” he purred.

“Mmm, and I thought you just did,” Halsin said, and raised his eyebrows as Astarion leaned over to the chaise. He grabbed the pillow resting on it and settled between Halsin’s legs.

“Lift up for me,” Astarion said softly, patting Halsin’s thigh. The larger man complied, planting his feet into the ground and lifting up his hips for Astarion to slide the pillow beneath him.

Halsin eyed Astarion curiously as he leaned back to his pants and pulled out a tiny bottle of lube. Halsin chuckled deep in his chest and willingly spread his legs, shifting down slightly.

“Oh, I see,” Halsin said, smiling softly.

His smirk disappeared quickly as Astarion pressed a finger against Halsin’s entrance. Halsin, already relaxed from his orgasm, sighed and gasped at the pressure. Astarion’s finger slid in easily and pushed against his walls, not waiting too long before a second one joined, massaging and kneading the muscles. He curled his fingers slightly until he found Halsin’s prostate, caressing the sensitive bud. Astarion spread his fingers to press around it.

Halsin’s hand gripped into his skin. Despite just climaxing, his cock hardened again as jolts of pleasure rolled through his body. He pulled his arm over his face to bite down on his own muscled bicep.

He was burning up, consumed with need, as though every nerve in his body was pleasantly on fire. Halsin groaned into his elbow and lifted his legs up higher as Astarion slid in a third finger. It wasn’t enough. His mind raced back to their first night together. How he stretched around Astarion’s girth and how the curve of his cock always hit the exact spot it needed to. It had become a craving; his mouth watered impatiently, and his cock stood fully erect and dribbling at Astarion’s skillful touch.

Astarion seemed satisfied with his work and pulled out his fingers. Halsin moaned at the loss of stimulation, only to gasp as Astarion pressed himself against Halsin’s entrance. His cock pushed inside easily, and Astarion rolled his hips slowly, sliding in and out by mere inches.

Halsin whined with frustration, “Don’t do this to me, Astarion,” he begged.

“Do what?” Astarion replied, chuckling as Halsin squirmed. He quickly learned he adored to tease the larger man, especially when he was so eager and needy for him.

Halsin opened his mouth to reply, but then Astarion was faster. The lawyer grabbed his leg and pressed it against his chest, letting the back of Halsin’s knee rest on his shoulder, and rutted deep inside of him.

“Oh gods, thank you,” Halsin whined, as he wrapped his other hand around his over-sensitive cock and slowly stroked it. He hissed as his hand rose up over the head of his arousal. Goosebumps rose on his skin with each pull.

Astarion admired how unabashedly unraveled Halsin became at his touch. He had never felt more desired and beautiful than when he was with Halsin. Even before this weekend, prior to going this far, Halsin always gave Astarion his undivided attention. He would never let a meeting pass by without showering him with praise or appreciation. He was always polite, kind, and considerate. But that was just… Halsin.

Astarion swallowed and refocused his thoughts. He pressed his forehead on the inside of Halsin’s thigh and gazed at the wrecked man in front of him. With every push, Halsin’s muscles tensed as his mouth fell open. At every thrust, Halsin’s little hitches of breath escaped him.

Halsin removed his arm from over his eyes and tried to focus his blurry eyes on the man in between his legs. He savored the way Astarion’s arms wrapped around his thigh, and how his muscled torso rippled with each thrust inside of him. He couldn’t help the keening noise that escaped the back of his throat as he marveled at Astarion’s beauty. His hand uncontrollably pumped his cock as his eyes cascaded down the lawyer’s body, stopping to admire every piece of fabric that adorned it.

Astarion shifted lower and slowly pressed up inside Halsin. His body shivered with pleasure as his cock was enveloped by Halsin’s warmth and pressure along the entire length of his shaft. He pulled out from Halsin’s ass and rutted against his prostate with a steady rhythm, causing both men to become short of breath.

“A-ah, y-yes,” Halsin moaned softly, a pitch higher than normal, “There, Astarion. Right there…”

Astarion obliged, quickening his pace and shortening his thrusts, grinding himself against Halsin’s prostate. Halsin tightened around him and arched his back, unable to tear his gaze away from Astarion.

“So beautiful,” Halsin gasped as his toes curled, his cum spilling all over his hand and shirt, crying out and shuddering through his second orgasm. Astarion followed shortly after, slamming himself all the way into Halsin, blushing up to the tips of his ears as he climaxed and filled him with his spend.

His muscles relaxed, and Astarion let out a breath, groaning and shaking through each wave of pleasure that shot through him. Halsin’s head fell back as his chest heaved with exhaustion. A dopey smile was plastered on his face.

Astarion pulled himself out of Halsin and lowered the larger man’s leg down. Halsin unbuttoned his shirt and tossed the cum-soaked fabric to the side. Astarion crawled up Halsin’s body and laid down on top of him, resting his head on top of his hands. Halsin twitched as the aftershocks hit him and closed his eyes, humming contently as his fingers lightly brushed against the soft skin on Astarion’s arms.

“So, I must have been good enough,” Halsin said quietly, making Astarion huff out a small laugh.

“You disobeyed me half-way through,” Astarion reminded him.

“Mhmm, I couldn’t help myself. You are magnificent. The most striking and intelligent person I’ve ever met. Any time you ask it of me, I will get on my hands and knees, and I will worship the ground you walk on,” Halsin shamelessly praised.

Astarion turned beet red and hid his face in his hands. Halsin’s praise was different when he spoke it while the men were in the heat of passion. But to hear this heartfelt adoration tumbling out of his mouth without prompting him made Astarion’s heart pound in his ears. “Halsin, please, you don’t have to. You can stop,” Astarion said softly.

Halsin lifted his head to look at the man on top of him. He pulled Astarion up on his chest so they were face-to-face.

“Astarion,” Halsin said in a soft, low voice as he cupped the younger man’s jaw, “I am not… This isn’t… I want to be with you.” He paused for a moment to gather his words, his chest still rising and falling as he caught his breath. “You’re not someone with whom I want to have a quick fuck and then part ways. I desire you for more than what you offer me - sexually or otherwise.”

Halsin pressed a kiss against Astarion’s plump lips and smiled.

“I want to take you on a date. Or dates, if you’ll let me. I want to get to know you even more, and learn about you. Both the good things…” He paused, a hand delicately traced one of the raised blemishes that peeked over his back, “and the bad.”

Astarion shivered, frowning slightly at the tenderness Halsin showed for him. It was not common to speak to another person who could read him so well. Let alone a partner who could also communicate their feelings, instead of shoving them down to fester.

Yet again, Astarion was embraced in Halsin’s healing aura, feeling safe in his arms and unafraid to be vulnerable. Halsin patiently watched as Astarion’s eyes bounced back and forth, scanning over his face. Halsin allowed him all the time he needed to process everything he laid out on the table.

“You want to take me on a date?” Astarion asked, blinking in confusion. Halsin nodded, brushing his nose against Astarion’s, still smiling softly at his lover.

“Many dates, but I’ll happily take even just one,” Halsin murmured against Astarion’s lips, pressing another kiss against them. “Anywhere you want. Anything you want. I’ll give you the world.”

Astarion laughed softly and shook his head, “And here I thought I was the smooth talker.”

“I’ve got many skills to show you,” Halsin smirked. His confidence was warranted, but it still caused Astarion to roll his eyes.

“Very well,” Astarion smiled. “This Friday, then.”

Halsin wrapped his arms around Astarion’s torso and squeezed him into a tight hug. He pressed a kiss to his cheek, jaw, then neck. Astarion laughed at Halsin’s excitement and let himself be squished, relaxing into his lover’s embrace.

#astarion #halsin #oakdaddy #halstarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #fan fic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x halsin #halsin x astarion #halsin/astarion #astarion/halsin #fan fiction #my work

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bloodlessbhaalbabe · 1 year ago

Text

Pleading the Fifth

Rating: Explicit

Length: 10,059 Words

Summary:

A modern AU romance where Halsin is the CEO of "The Grove" and Astarion is his personal lawyer. They have been pining over one another secretly for years. Finally, they get a night where they are entirely alone at The Grove headquarters.

BIG , BIG THANKS TO @tatterings and @lotsofthinkythoughts FOR LETTING ME HOUND YOU WITH SMUT ALL THE TIME SO I COULD FINISH AND POST THIS

Posted on AO3 & Below:

With his forehead pressed against the darkened passenger window, the city lights of Fae Rûncisco were a distorted blur in the distance. The silent driver expertly navigated through the narrow, steep hills that converged on the shores of the harbor.

The passenger swirled the crystal glass in his hand, sending condensation cascading down the sides. It left a damp semi-circle on his freshly-pressed hemp trousers. The bitter liquid inside was still untouched. It was a prop, rather than a true drink; something to wrap his hands around when he didn’t know what to do with them. It also allowed him to blend in with his coworkers; and to be privy to discussions that otherwise might not occur without their guards being let down.

A soft squealing of brake pads announced their arrival at the ivy-covered tower. It loomed above him, obscuring his view of the starless night sky. The driver parked the car, flipped on the hazard lights, and unfastened his seatbelt. The passenger lifted his head from the window as the driver rounded to open his door.

“Shall I stay and wait for you, sir?” the driver asked, as the man stepped out of the car. The passenger threw his suit jacket over his shoulder and tossed his beverage into the bushes before turning to give his driver a soft smile.

“No, Rath, why don’t you head home to your wife?” he replied in a low voice, heavy with exhaustion. “I’ll catch up on some work and see you in the morning.”

“If you’re sure, sir? I don’t mind,” Rath replied.

The man bent to place the glass on the seat before patting down his pants pockets. He retrieved a small wad of bills and sifted through the first few to count, before shrugging and placing the entire stack in his driver’s hand.

“Treat her to some flowers and wine. Tell her I am sorry for pulling you away from your anniversary. It’s not your fault that I hate driving,” the passenger said. He stepped up to the curb. “The night is still young, Rath. If you need me to make accommodations for another driver in the morning, please let me know.”

“I will, sir. Nettie understands. T-Thank you, Mr. Woods. Have a good night,” the driver said with a stammer. Rath knew not to argue with his boss over any tip he was given, or at the insinuation of taking a day off. Despite it being a regular occurrence, it never ceased to surprise him that he worked for a man with so much power; let alone one who still treated every person with kindness and utmost respect.

“You as well,” replied Mr. Woods kindly, speaking over his shoulder and dismissing Rath with a wave ‘goodbye’. He pulled the retractable badge from his waist and pressed it against the scanner. The doors unlocked with a quiet click.

Mr. Woods strode past the elevator and pulled open the door to the stairwell. This was yet another dual-purpose habit of his: it was both the “greener”, energy efficient option, and it also gave him time to think. In his 10 years of owning the building, he had never run into anyone in the stairwells. He enjoyed the privacy they offered; it granted him time to run through the day ahead or get lost in his thoughts. He also enjoyed the health benefits of taking the stairs every day. He could have gotten away with indulging in the luxury of the lift, especially this late at night, but he preferred to not take the risk.

Thirty-six floors to the top. Seventy-two flights of stairs. The man, feeling the strain and heat from exertion, pulled at his bowtie and left it unraveled at his collar. He popped open the first few buttons of his powder white shirt and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, the fabric straining slightly over his muscles. His heart pounded in his ears as he continued, chest heaving with each flight.

Once he reached the top, he opened the door with a groan, kicking off his shoes and discarding his jacket on the floor. He released the elastic band that was wrapped around his hair, letting his auburn locks fall, and ran a hand through the damp strands.

As he approached his office, he noticed a light within; above a desk lamp, a dark figure leaned on his desk, both hands pressed against the top, examining something strewn over the surface. He crept closer, and leaned against the doorframe, which creaked under the pressure of the large man.

He flicked on the overhead lights. The now-illuminated figure jumped backwards, gasping, startled by the sudden company. The large man met his gaze. A smirk danced across his face as his intruder’s green eyes blinked in the sudden light. The larger man crossed his arms and bit his lip to suppress a laugh. He enjoyed seeing his typically-composed lawyer all flustered. It was an interesting change of pace from their usual friendly, sometimes flirty, professional banter.

“By the gods, Mr. Woods, you nearly sent me to an early grave,” the man cried, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What are you even doing here? I thought you had a fundraiser tonight?”

“You know me. Last one to show up and the first to leave, but I could be asking you the same question, Astarion. You are in my office,” he replied, nodding toward the nameplate on the door.

Astarion closed the manila folder that he had been studying, and stacked the documents into an orderly pile. “Something urgent came up. I was preparing everything for next week for our meeting, but since you’re here–”

“If it wasn't urgent enough to bring up tonight, then it can wait until Monday.”

“Mr. Woods–”

“Halsin.”

“I– Halsin, please–”

Halsin smiled, his eyes glittered mischievously. They had known each other for years. Astarion knew almost everything about Halsin, but Astarion didn’t speak much about his personal life. Whenever Halsin talked about his own interests, he would only get a sneak peek into who Astarion was outside of work. He genuinely liked Astarion. He appreciated the work ethic and passion of his lawyer, but he desperately wanted to know more about him. More than just what they had in common.

“Have a drink with me, Astarion,” Halsin said, cocking his head to the side.

Astarion opened and closed his mouth. His mind reeled for any valid excuse to bring them back to the topic at hand, but he knew that Halsin didn’t work off-hours and to argue would be pointless.

Taking the man’s silence as a “yes”, Halsin pushed from the doorframe and stepped into the room, padding over to his desk. He reached beside Astarion to open his lower desk drawer. He retrieved two thin-rimmed glasses and an unlabeled bottle from the back, and nestled them in the crook of his arm. He used his foot to shut the drawer; it rattled closed with a bang.

“Follow me,” Halsin winked and nodded toward the door. He had a smile that traveled all the way up to his eyes. Astarion rolled his eyes before returning the smile.

Astarion wasn’t sure what to expect from this. It wasn’t common for clients to want to spend time with him outside of normal business hours. But he knew that Halsin was anything but common. He wasn’t like any of the other white collar folks he represented or with whom he begrudgingly associated.

Astarion had laughed more in his meetings with Halsin than any other client, or really, any other person. They often found themselves deep in an elongated tangent that stemmed from a forgotten work-related topic. Seeing Halsin every week had been something to look forward to and, despite it toeing the line of professionalism, it was nice to have a friend.

Halsin slipped by Astarion and sauntered out of the office. Astarion followed closely behind Halsin as he made his way over to the stairwell. They stepped over the remnants of Halsin’s outfit on the floor, and walked up one more flight of stairs to the roof.

The evening air was warm and comfortable; with a light breeze that tousled Astarion’s soft, white curls. The majority of the surface area of the roof was covered in a dense clover lawn. When Halsin created The Grove and bought the company tower all those years ago, he had a vision for the architectural design of the facility. He wanted a mini-oasis into which he could retreat during the hardest work days. On the roof, much like in the deserted stairwell, he found himself in solitude, and lost in thought.

The pergolas had dense, green mosquito netting on each side, with entrances that could be opened or shut for privacy. Thick vines of ivy traveled up from the side of the building itself, and trailed onto the wooden planks of the pergolas’ tops, offering protection to the plush furniture inside.

Astarion sucked in a deep breath as he observed his surroundings: the darkened street below, and then out to the harbor beyond. Living in the city was convenient for his job, but the rooftop reminded him of all the color there was in the world. He lost track of the last time he spent a day outside the dull concrete towers he frequented. He tended to forget how much he missed the simplicity of fresh air.

“So, why did you leave the party early?” Astarion prompted, turning around to push the draped netting aside and stepping into the pergola. He watched Halsin with interest as the man prepared their drinks. He waltzed over to where Halsin sat, running his elegant fingers through his white curls.

“Have a taste first, and let me know what you think,” Halsin replied, pulling an annoyed sigh from Astarion. Halsin popped open the bottle and filled the glasses with the drink from the decanter. It sparkled in the thin-rimmed glass as Halsin handed the drink to the lawyer. Astarion nodded in thanks as he gingerly plucked the glass from Hasin’s hand.The larger man clinked their glasses together and took a large sip, smacking his lips at the sweet, tart flavor.

“You really are avoidant tonight, you know,” Astarion said. He obliged regardless, pulling in a mouthful of the bubbly drink and letting it swirl around his mouth before swallowing. His eyebrows raised as he pursed his lips in pleasant surprise. He hummed with appreciation. “This is… delightful! Refreshing even.”

“Thank you,” Halsin said enthusiastically, a smile tugging at his cheeks, “I made it myself. It’s hard honey cider made from homegrown Ashmead Kernel apples. I imported seedlings from The High Forest near the village I grew up in. It took me four years to gather just thirty apples to create this single bottle of cider. Well, this and a taster jar of course.”

Astarion let out a laugh, shaking his head. He always found himself impressed with Halsin; the man’s dogged determination allowed him to succeed in nearly every field in which he’d dared to explore. “Darling, is there anything you can’t do?”

“Feign interest in the lives of the mundane elites,” he replied honestly, tossing back his glass, and leaning forward to fill it again. Halsin did not notice the raised eyebrows of his companion. He pressed his back into the couch and fidgeted with his hands, his fingernails clicking away at the rim of the glass.

Astarion pushed aside one of Halsin’s legs from the sectional and plopped down adjacent to him. His movements jostled Halsin’s arm, causing rivulets of cider to spill over the edge of his cup and drip down Halsin’s arm. Halsin shook his head and lapped up the sticky liquid with his tongue.

“It truly must be hard being the most interesting man in the room,” Astarion joked, making Halsin snort incredulously. He leaned onto his side, peering over at his boss with an open palm pressed to the side of his head.

From this high up, they could barely hear the sounds of the cars driving below. Only a gust of wind rustling the netting and ivy leaves around them disturbed the quiet air.

Tufts of Halsin’s hair fell in front of his face. Astarion’s grip on his glass tightened, as he fought the urge to tuck it behind his boss’ ear. He felt his concentration waning as he blinked up at Halsin, admiring his chiseled jaw, the scars on his forehead, his broad barreled chest, and his fitted clothes stretched to their limits. Astarion’s mind often drifted in his presence.

“That is the unfortunate side of it. The party wasn’t about what I am capable of doing, or what my passions are. No one asks about the purpose of the fundraiser. No one cares. It’s superficial. It’s only about what their money can buy them, so it can directly benefit themselves,” Halsin ranted, releasing a heavy sigh. His shoulders sagged as he finished his drink. “Societies should be judged based on how they treat their most vulnerable. And I feel foolish for even complaining because now…. I’ve become a part of the problem too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I care about you…and I get to reap the benefits of your passions,” Astarion replied with a warm smile, clinking his glass against Halsin’s once more. Halsin leaned closer to Astarion, dropping his voice to a low grumble. He could smell his bergamot cologne dabbed behind his ears.

“But I am paying you to be here, Astarion,” he retorted, placing his empty glass on the table.

“Not right now. I’m paid by the hour and you declined my offer to discuss business. So, I suppose…I am here as a friend,” Astarion stated matter-of-factly. His curls bounced with each word as he dramatically fluttered his hand in dismissal.

Halsin smiled and let out a soft chuckle. He deeply admired the man in front of him. He was grateful that the majority of the politics weren’t on his plate and he had someone who understood the ins and outs of legalese. Halsin was only supposed to be a climate scientist, after all.

In return for his services, Halsin paid Astarion handsomely. After a while, Astarion even declined the offer of excess funds, inspired by Halsin’s kindness and his belief that it would be best spent elsewhere. Halsin decided to place those funds in a separate account and donated it to a charitable cause under his friend’s name instead.

Halsin did not know when this fondness for him bloomed. Somewhere between the hours spent locked in one of The Grove’s meeting rooms or up on the rooftop, he found himself lost while watching Astarion. Halsin hyper-fixated on Astarion’s plump, pink lips . Or he imagined himself in the lawyer’s lap, undoing the buttons of his shirt. His inattention likely frustrated Astarion to no end, as the lawyer had to repeat himself constantly.

Halsin could brush it off as a crush… if it had only been an attraction for his beautiful face. But there was so much more to Astarion. He was the only person who genuinely made Halsin laugh. He had a subtle kindness which he demonstrated through small, significant gifts; he always procured a large, steaming cup of Halsin’s favorite tea whenever they met, or sent him articles he thought Halsin would find interesting. They shared interest in the same sorts of books, and often read them at the same time so they could have a discussion about them.

When it came to work, Astarion, outside of actual business needs, had always made his counsel available for no charge; Halsin was sure that he had other clients who would pay top-dollar for his advice. He often found his stomach in knots when thinking about what he shared with Astarion, and he battled with himself on whether to ask if his lawyer was interested in sharing more. He felt silly, like a highschool crush, wondering if Astarion had a significant other; the man had always managed to be more reserved about his personal life, despite their many years of friendship and working together. Halsin was surprised to realize how little he knew about Astarion, despite feeling like he knew the man intimately well.

Astarion downed his drink and placed it on the table. He licked his lips to taste the lingering tartness and turned back to Halsin.

“What did you mean when you said you were foolish for complaining? That you are a part of the problem,” Astarion asked, pulling Halsin back into reality. Halsin met his gaze, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

“Am I not just another billionaire who says earnestly that ‘money can’t buy you happiness?’ I could have everything I ever wanted, and I do, yet it is still not enough. I am not doing enough. I am furthering the cycle of using money to satisfy the people who don’t deserve it…on blind faith that they will actually let me do something good with their donations.” Halsin dragged a hand through his long, auburn locks and then down his face. “I wasn’t supposed to be here, Astarion. I am so lucky to have experienced all of this, and yet I don’t want any of it. It feels wrong to live so lavishly when there are so many people still suffering.”

“You are foolish,” Astarion replied, giving in to his urge, and tucking that piece of hair behind Halsin’s ear. His hand lingered against his cheek. “ But only in the sense that you are selfless to a fault. You have lost sight of all of the good you have done in the world. When your uncle’s fracking drill blew up, which you played no part in, who paid for the entire clean up and conservation of the ocean? Who dismantled the company that made it happen? Who donates their entire paycheck each month to local shelters, foster families, and addiction clinics? Who completely rebuilt the filtration system for an entire city when their water supply was spoiled?”

Halsin rolled his eyes and looked away bashfully. A blush crept across his cheeks. He never expected praise when it came to the things he did. All he ever wanted to do was make a positive impact on the world. It seemed like he was constantly making up for the consequences of other people’s actions and it was disheartening.

Astarion cupped Halsin’s jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze. Halsin’s eyes widened and sucked in a quick breath. Astarion shook his head and smiled softly.

“Halsin, no one else cares but you. The love you have for the world and its inhabitants has impacted hundreds of thousands of people. Somehow you’re one of the rare few that hasn’t been corrupted by power and money, and even better, you despise it. You are kind and considerate. You are passionate and loving. You are thoughtful and creative. You are humble and so beautiful. You are unmatched, beyond comparison.”

Astarion paused. He was closer to Halsin than he had ever been before. His eyes trailed down from his eyes to his lips, watching as Halsin dragged his tongue over it. Halsin swallowed, his mouth watered and his chest heaved at Astarion’s proximity, his heart pounding in his ears.

Astarion glanced up to meet Halsin’s eyes only to find them cast down at his own lips.

Caught up in his whirl of emotions, he pulled Halsin into a kiss. Halsin moaned in surprise and melted into his embrace, immediately returning the kiss.

Halsin’s hand grabbed at the lawyer’s shirt to pull him closer. Astarion pulled away first, breath catching in his throat, lips red and plump. He looked at Halsin as if waiting for him to move away, but his hands stayed wrapped up in the collar of his shirt.

“Sorry, I–... I didn’t mean–” Astarion whispered.

“No, I-I want this,” Halsin panted, tightening his grip on the collar of Astarion’s shirt, “I want you.”

Astarion blinked in surprise. They flirted from time to time, but he didn’t think that Halsin had thought anything of it. He wasn’t one to question anyone’s sexuality. He was almost positive that Halsin knew about his preferences, but it amazed him to think that Halsin was interested in him too. Without a second thought, Astarion removed his glasses, set them on the table, and moved to straddle Halsin’s lap.

Halsin’s chest heaved, feeling a little lightheaded and momentarily flabbergasted that the sole object of his desire for the past few years actually wanted him too. He no longer had to imagine what it would be like to touch him. To be able to feel his muscles under his fingers and press the smaller man against him. He felt himself harden in anticipation.

Astarion reveled in the way Halsin’s strong hands slid down his back and squeezed his thighs. Halsin leaned up and pressed his lips against Astarion’s jaw, tongue and mouth working their way toward his ear and then his neck. A shiver ran down his spine as Halsin moved to the other side of his neck; it made his cock twitch and swell in his trousers.

Astarion wrapped his arms around the larger man’s neck and pulled him into another kiss, nipping at his lip. Halsin opened his mouth and let their tongues explore. Desire pooled at the base of Halsin’s stomach and settled into his groin. Halsin spread his legs and leaned further back into the couch.

His hands gripped onto the lawyer’s shirt and untucked it from his pants, letting his fingers graze across sensitive skin. Astarion pressed himself down into Halsin and rolled his hips, feeling the larger man’s excitement growing between his legs. Halsin groaned into Astarion’s mouth and pushed against him. His fingers unfastened the buttons revealing silky, pale skin. Halsin peppered kisses from his sternum down, as Astarion worked around him to unclasp his lover’s shirt.

Halsin looked up at Astarion, his pupils blown out with desire as Astarion cradled Halsin’s face in his hands smiling through his heavy breaths. “I am hesitant to admit how often I let my mind wander when it came to the possibility of being with you,” he said. “I didn’t know you thought of me that way and I never wanted to press in case I was wrong.”

“And to think we could have done this months ago,” Astarion laughed softly. He leaned back and watched as Halsin’s eyes trailed up and down his body as though he wanted to etch the image of him into his mind forever.

“If I may, Astarion, you are stunning. You are a masterpiece. Carved with delicate hands. I could write sonnets about your beauty.”

Astarion blushed a rich shade of red. He huffed out a laugh, smiling sheepishly. “Mr. Woods, with the way you’re behaving, I have a feeling you have a whole litany of poems written about me already.”

“It’s not the minutes I am writing when I am in meetings with you,” Halsin smiled and unbuckled Astarion’s belt, pulling it from the loops and tossing it on the floor. He pressed his palm up against Astarion’s clothed length, and admired Astarion’s mouth as it dropped open. The lawyer’s small gasps turned into moans, falling from his beautiful, bruised lips, as Halsin stroked him through his slacks.

Halsin’s eager fingers unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zipper, sliding his hand below the waistband. He wrapped his large hand around Astarion’s aching erection, pulling it free from its prison. Astarion sat up and pushed down his pants to his thighs before perching back on Halsin’s lap. Halsin rubbed a thumb over Astarion’s slit, pre-cum spreading around the sensitive head and down his shaft.

He slowly pumped his hand up and down Astarion’s length, watching as the man above him twitched and gasped with each pull. Astarion was not lacking in length in the slightest, despite Halsin’s hand nearly covering the entirety of his shaft. He felt enveloped with each tug, squeeze, and twist. Astarion captured Halsin’s mouth with his, parting his lips, tasting the sweet honey cider that lingered on his tongue. His hand gripped at the long hair on the back of Halsin’s head, his hips slowly rocking against the larger man’s calloused fingers.

Astarion’s hands relinquished their grasp and slid down Halsin’s hairy chest, stopping only for a moment to tease his taut nipples. Halsin moaned into his mouth as he continued down and unfastened Halsin’s trousers. Astarion paused for a moment as Halsin twisted his wrist on the head of his cock, sending chills down his spine, shuddering through the movements.

Astarion pulled away from his lips and pressed his knees into the couch on either side of Halsin’s thighs.

“Come on, Halsin, don’t be shy,” Astarion said feverishly. His hands gripped the waistline of Halsin’s pants.

Halsin lifted up his rear from the couch for a moment as Astarion yanked down the other man’s slacks. Halsin’s engorged cock slid from his underwear and hit him in the stomach with a slap. Halsin hissed at the contact and brought his hand up to grasp around his girth, while still squeezing Astarion with his other.

Astarion gulped at the sight. He knew Halsin was big. There’s no way a man of his stature wouldn’t be supporting something significant below the belt. But Astarion’s thoughts were not as generous as they should have been. Halsin was massive, a couple inches longer and girthier than his own, and just as tan as the rest of him. At the base, Halsin’s hair gathered, curly and unkempt.

He watched as Halsin stroked a heavy hand up his shaft, his foreskin languidly rising over his head and then pulled taut on the downstroke. He caught Halsin’s eyes trailing from their swollen arousals and up until he met his gaze. Halsin released the hand wrapped around Astarion, making him whimper in protest, and raised it to his lips.

“Spit,” he demanded. Astarion’s cock twitched at the command. His mouth was already involuntarily watering.

Astarion obediently collected his saliva and pushed it out into Halsin’s hand. Halsin’s hand fell back down and coated both of their members with Astarion’s spit, mixing in the drops of pre-cum. Astarion shifted his hips forward. Halsin wrapped both of his large hands around their lengths and pressed them together, making Astarion buck in response. Astarion slowly started to thrust within his hands, the pressure and warmth from Halsin underneath him making his head fall back. He felt the older man’s eyes on him, enjoying the beauty of his lover using him to please himself.

“Gods, Halsin,” Astarion moaned breathily. He rested his head against Halsin’s shoulder and reached underneath his lover’s hands, pulling and massaging their balls. Halsin grunted as his hips jolted, tightening his grip on their cocks. Their heads messily slid over the other as Astarion continued to rut and tug, his lips pressed against Halsin’s neck, his teeth biting down softly, sucking on his tender flesh. “H-Halsin… so close… I’m…”

“Wait,” Halsin commanded, he felt his breath catch in his throat, almost stopping himself from acting on his deepest desires. Astarion could feel the pressure building inside of him, his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. “Stand up. Let me taste you.”

It took everything in Astarion to push himself away from Halsin and stand up onto his jellied legs. Halsin leaned forward to the edge of the couch and looked up at Astarion, nearly drooling at the view of his lover touching himself. His mouth fell open hungrily and Astarion stepped closer, sliding his member along the larger man’s tongue.

Astarion caressed Halsin’s cheeks with his thumb. He hadn’t expected Halsin to be so eager and submissive for him. There was a side of Astarion that still respected him as his superior and he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Although I think we’re long past that, Astarion mused. He was intrigued by this dynamic switch and was pleasantly surprised that there was still plenty that he didn't know about Halsin. Astarion had always imagined that he would be the one in between his thighs tasting him, but this was better. He enjoyed the power and control: to look down at Halsin, his boss, with his cock resting on his tongue. He saw only excitement and bliss; like Halsin’s entire being desired to worship him.

Halsin grabbed Astarion’s hands and placed them on either side of his head. He smiled around Astarion’s cock as the younger man grabbed a handfuls of his hair. Halsin wrapped his lips tightly around his lover’s length and bobbed his head from tip to base, gagging as it pressed against the back of his throat. He closed his eyes and reveled in the sweet, salty flavor of Astarion, moaning to himself. One hand pulled at his own leaking member; his other gripped firmly around Astarion’s hip.

“Look at me, Halsin,” Astarion growled through gritted teeth. Halsin’s eyes shot open and he gazed up in awe at Astarion. He had seen how poignant and dynamic the lawyer was in their meetings; the way he convinced and captivated any one who dared to rebuttal him.

But, he had never been on the receiving end of that power. Astarion never demanded anything from him and respected his decisions. Halsin felt his heart leap in his chest at the ferocity in his voice, desperate to please him, to be at his beck and call.

“Good boy,” Astarion said as he thrusted into Halsin’s mouth.

He watched Halsin take his entire length, enjoying every second. He enjoyed every lap of the larger man’s tongue against his cock. Halsin’s hand erratically pumped his own cock below, sending the vibrations of his moans into Astarion’s shaft as he fucked his mouth. Astarion could feel the little puffs of breaths from Halsin’s nose tickling the short hairs at the base. He could barely hold himself back as he admired Halsin’s pretty little mouth wrapped around his shaft. Astarion’s chest heaved as he felt the pressure build as he grew closer to climax.

“Fuck, Halsin… I-I… I’m…” Astarion stammered, out of breath. He leaned forward and shuddered, spilling his load down Halsin’s throat, who eagerly swallowed his thick bands of cum. Astarion could feel Halsin’s throat closing with each burst he released; Halsin’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock, savoring the taste. Astarion’s hand drifted to cup Halsin’s jaw as he slid in and out of his pliant mouth, slowly riding through his orgasm.

Moments later, Halsin made a choking noise, his hand twisting and pulling at his arousal, his eyes rolled back into his head. Halsin’s nails dug into Astarion’s hip. His shoulders shook and his seed spilled all over his hand and on the floor. Halsin huffed and groaned around Astarion’s cock, shivers rolling through him.

Astarion pulled himself out of Halsin’s mouth. Halsin let out a sigh, twitching with aftershocks, and blinking away tears that were forced out of him. He grinned up at Astarion and grabbed the pale, lean man, pulling him into his lap.

He nuzzled his face against Astarion’s and pressed kisses onto his cheeks, chin, and then lips.

“You’re amazing,” Halsin murmured into his lover’s skin, continuing to pepper kisses wherever his mouth could reach. Astarion smiled and let out a small giggle. He placed his hands on Halsin’s chest and stroked the wispy hairs. Halsin’s heart pounded against his fingers, slowing with each breath.

“And you’re sticky,” Astarion replied grimacing, feeling a huff of laughter bubble out of Halsin.

“My office bathroom has a shower, if you’re interested,” Halsin suggested. His thick eyebrows raised.

“An entire shower is hidden in your private bathroom? Really?” Astarion looked at Halsin, a crease forming between his brows.

“Just one of the many perks of being a CEO, I suppose,” Halsin shrugged, patting Astarion’s butt to have him stand up.

“You spend way too many nights in your office, Halsin,” Astarion chastised, “But a shower does sound lovely.”

Before heading back down, both men took a moment to tuck themselves back into their trousers, stretch their aching muscles, and share a knowing laugh about not being as young as they used to be.

_____________

Halsin walked into the bathroom and shimmied out of his trousers, before he glanced at himself in the mirror. He smiled as he admired all of the red markings all over his body where Astarion had pressed, bit, and rubbed. His thin lips looked a little red and raw, and his hair was still slightly sticking up from when Astarion had tightly held on.

Like reins to a mighty steed, Halsin thought to himself, chuckling at the visual. Astarion joined him in the mirror, wrapping his arms around Halsin from behind, and pressed kisses into his muscled back. The taller man smiled and leaned into his touch, taking in a deep breath, rubbing the arms that encircled him.

After several years of pining over his lawyer, he never thought this would be a possibility. He did his best to hide the way his eyes secretly slid down his lean frame whenever Astarion was turned away from him in meetings. He struggled with not sighing dreamily with his head in his hands whenever Astarion would lean over the large table heatedly speaking to whoever they had on speakerphone that day.

He found himself unable to sleep as his mind flipped through the various scenarios of his day. There had been many late evenings where he sat and fantasized what it would be like to feel Astarion’s skin against his. It always ended with his hand sneaking down under the waistline of his pants. A shameful, guilty feeling emerged in his chest at the quickly spiraling, explicit thoughts that made his hand drip with his spend. But this was better than anything he could have imagined because it was real.

Halsin brought up one of Astarion’s hands and pressed his lips into it before turning to the sleek, grey tiled shower. The glass door opened with a slight squeak as he stepped onto the dark pebbled surface and twisted the handle on the wall. Instant hot water poured out of the dual waterfall shower heads attached to the ceiling. As Halsin adjusted the temperature, plumes of steam rose above, and clouded the room in a misty fog. Halsin stepped into the spray and soaked his head, running his fingers over his face, and through his hair. He groaned at the water pressure and cracked his neck on both sides.

Astarion watched Halsin with a feral, but appreciative gaze. Throughout all of the moments they had spent together he had tried to picture what was hiding under Halsin’s button-down shirts, but his mind could not predict the statuesque nature of his rippling body. His gaze followed the water as it descended over his flesh and through the divots of the muscles. He marveled at the thick veins that pushed against the skin of Halsin’s biceps and the way they flexed with every arm gesture. Astarion’s spent cock twitched, making him flinch from sensitivity as it pushed against the fabric of his trousers. He bit at his lip and pushed his pants down his legs, clearing his mind from his sultry thoughts for the time being.

A burst of cold sent goosebumps up his arms as Astarion stepped into the shower in front of Halsin. He looked down at Astarion with a soft smile, adoring the way his white curls flattened against his head as he moved into the water stream. The water dripped from the smaller man’s eyelashes and trailed down his sharp cheekbones. Astarion sighed, slightly spent from their activities, and rolled his shoulders under the spray, adjusting to the heat and pressure of the flow.

Halsin reached over to grab a bottle of shampoo and waggled it at Astarion. Astarion nodded in approval and Halsin shook the bottle, pouring the contents into his hand. The smaller man moved closer to Halsin and rested his head on Halsin’s chest, his arms wrapping entirely around his torso, pulling himself flush against his skin. Halsin worked the shampoo into Astarion’s hair, digging his nails into his scalp.

“Mmm, do you do this with all of your lawyers?” Astarion teased, feeling Halsin's stomach shake with laughter.

“Only the cute ones,” Halsin countered, moving Astarion’s head to scrub his entire scalp. He pressed his thumbs behind his ears and moved them down his neck. Astarion slumped more into Halsin as he worked his fingers, pinching and kneading, on his neck and shoulders pulling out breathy noises of appreciation. Halsin gently turned the smaller man to have the water wash out the suds. He then placed a chaste kiss against his lips and removed Astarion’s arms from his torso to grab the conditioner, repeating the cycle of rubbing it into his curly locks. Halsin gingerly scrunched up the conditioner with expert hands and then rinsed.

Astarion stood there with a smile on his lips as he allowed Halsin to pamper and dote on him. He relished the feeling of Halsin’s rough hands and lips all over his body as he scrubbed soap into his delicate skin. Astarion couldn’t remember the last time someone spent so much time and effort on his comfort and pleasure. Between the desire to be tasted and the attention to detail Halsin showed as he scrubbed every square inch of his body, he felt his heart flutter for the man who had revealed so much of himself that night. He felt vulnerable and safe with Halsin.

He watched as Halsin squatted down and thoroughly soaped all around and in between his legs and up through his cheeks. Astarion let out a bashful giggle as he was moved back into the water and Halsin’s hands traded the place of the washcloth to remove the soap. He shivered with goosebumps rising upon his skin as Halsin stood up and pressed his lips onto his forehead.

Halsin ran his fingers through Astarion’s damp, white curls. His hand rested upon his jaw. Astarion’s eyes closed. He wrapped his fingers around Halsin’s forearm and pressed his lips onto his wrist. His thumb rubbed against the skin and he smiled. It had been a while since he felt so tenderly and affectionately cared for. Halsin pulled away and pressed his forehead into Astarion’s, smiling softly down at him.

“Okay, your turn,” Astarion murmured while leaning over to grab a washcloth.

Halsin stepped away to grab the shampoo bottle. He poured the rose scented liquid into his hand and scrubbed it into his scalp. Astarion poured the body wash onto the fabric. Astarion rubbed the cloth all over, lifting up Halsin’s arms and getting into every nook and cranny of his body, Halsin squirmed slightly. The fabric tickled his skin. Astarion pushed Halsin into the stream of the water and washed off all of the soap and suds from his body. Once Halsin was conditioned, Astarion stepped back into Halsin’s space and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

Halsin ran his hands up and down Astarion’s back, moving to lean against the chilly tiled walls. They held each other close, letting the endless hot water supply pour over them while they kissed deeply, their tongues lazily overlapping and tangling together. Their bodies pressed against each other with no sexual intent, just the desire to touch and explore.

Astarion pulled away first, a simple sweet smile delicately placed on his lips as he nuzzled himself into Halsin’s chest.

“I don’t want to leave here,” Astarion sighed.

“I know, but I have enough wrinkles as is,” Halsin joked, wrapping a hand around Astarion’s neck and pulling him into one last kiss before pushing off the wall and turning off the water supply.

He opened the shower door, steam spilling out of the enclosed area, and grabbed two towels, handing one of them to Astarion. Halsin wrapped the towel around him, folding down the fabric securely against his waist. He then grabbed another towel and bent over, flipping his hair down. Halsin expertly twisted the towel around his head and stood back up, twisting the towel around and balancing it on the top of his head. Astarion couldn’t suppress his laugh at the now-turbaned Halsin. Halsin turned and raised an eyebrow.

“What? I hate when my wet hair drips down my back. It’s the easiest technique to prevent that,” Halsin said earnestly. Astarion smiled and shook his head, wrapping his own towel around his body securely.

“I just wasn’t expecting it. You look beautiful with your hair all done up like that,” Astarion teased, pulling an eye roll out of Halsin as he left the bathroom.

Astarion followed him to his desk at the back of the room and plopped into his office chair with Halsin in front of him. Halsin leaned over the desk, curiously shuffling through some of the files that Astarion placed there. Astarion’s eyes wandered down the damp skin of the man in front of him and bit his lip, getting lost in the pull of Halsin’s muscles under his skin. He swallowed dryly and looked around the office for something to drink. He moved to open the drawer that Halsin was in earlier, trying to find more hard honey cider, but his fingers came across a different glass bottle instead.

“Astarion, don’t–” Halsin cut himself off, his eyes widened as Astarion pulled out a mid-sized, half-used, glass bottle. The viscosity of the clear liquid inside meant there was no question about its nature; Halsin kept lube in his desk. Astarion’s eyes sparkled mischievously at Halsin.

“Oh, what is this?” Astarion gleamed while turning the bottle in his hand.

“I– uh…” Halsin’s cheeks formed a deep red blush, trailing all the way up to his ears. He couldn’t formulate a proper excuse this time. He’s been laid bare and exposed. All of his wildest fantasies and dreams flashing through his head as the main character of his vivid imaginations is sat there behind him. He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat, not daring to make eye contact.

“My, my, Halsin,” Astarion paused, tilting the bottle dramatically to emphasize the amount of room leftover inside the container. “You really do spend too much time here in your office. What could possibly be on your mind that couldn’t wait for you to get home to touch yourself?”

Halsin doesn’t turn to look at Astarion. He kept his eyes focused on the manila folders decorating his desk, shifting awkwardly at the playful interrogation. Astarion could see his blush warming the skin of the older man’s shoulders.

“Was it me, Halsin?” Astarion’s voice is low and alluring, closely eyeing Halsin’s sharp intake of breath, the tense muscles and fidgeting hands. “Oh, that struck a nerve. How many times have you thought about me in this room?”

Astarion bit back a cheeky smile. Still no reply from the larger man. Figuring that it might be better to stay silent than to implicate himself more. Astarion taught him well.

“You know damn well that pleading the fifth doesn’t bode well for a plea of innocence,” Astarion tutted. His hand slid up the outside of Halsin’s thigh, “What did you have me do to you, Halsin? Did I have your pretty cock in my mouth as you sat in this chair? Or did you have me bent over your desk exactly like I have you now?”

Halsin cleared his throat. “Quite the opposite actually.”

Astarion bit his lip and smirked, his eyes darkening at the revelation. He leaned back into the leather chair. “Well, darling, if that’s the case, then I’m not quite sure why you’re still standing,” he paused, a wicked idea crossing his mind. “Get on your knees.”

Halsin’s back straightened at the command, he looked over his shoulder at Astarion who was splayed out, legs spread, looking up at him through heavy eyelids and with one leg already exposed from his falling towel. He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. His cock twitched with delight, pressing up against the fabric wrapped around his waist. Perhaps Astarion is a great lawyer because he can read minds, Halsin thought. He hid his smile and turned slowly to face Astarion, obediently dropping to his knees and placing his hands on the inside of Astarion’s thighs.

Astarion looked down at the larger man in front of him, “Look at you. Sitting there so desperately.”

Astarion brought up a hand to cup Halsin’s blushing cheek. His thumb trailed across his skin and pulled down Halsin’s plump bottom lip, and slid into his mouth. Halsin closed his mouth around Astarion’s thumb, his silky tongue sucking on it softly. Arousal swirled down into Astarion’s groin.

“Such a good listener,” Astarion bit down on his lip in focus and pushed his thumb to the back of Halsin’s throat, pulling out a gag as he forcefully opened his mouth. He relished the feeling of Halsin’s hot breath against his skin. A small smile pulled at the sides of Halsin’s lips. Astarion used his other hand to push off Halsin’s towel turban and ran his fingers through Halsin’s damp waves.

He licked his lips as he gripped all of Halsin’s hair in his hand while Halsin lowered himself in between Astarion’s legs. Halsin slid his fingers under Astarion’s towel and shoved it away revealing Astarion’s hardening arousal, twitching excitedly as Halsin leaned in and licked along underneath his shaft.

Halsin nuzzled his face into the base, his lips pulled at the skin of his balls, letting one fall into his mouth, suckling softly, while his hand gently massaged the other. Astarion’s eyes fell closed, shockwaves of pleasure pulsed through his body and back down to his cock. Drops of pre-cum had already surfaced, and Halsin lapped it up eagerly, wrapping his lips around the head, his tongue circling around and across the leaking slit. He moaned, taking the entire length into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy, akin to a sommelier savoring the flavor of a wine. His enthusiasm was encouraged by the little whimpers he was pulling from his lover.

The grip on Halsin’s hair tightened as he slowly bobbed his head all the way down Astarion’s shaft, feeling it twitch and grow by the second. Halsin pulled off with wet pop. Before going back down, he wrapped his hand around the base of Astarion’s cock and pulled up until his lips met his hand. Halsin pumped his hand and twisted his wrist. He closed his eyes, kissing his tight fist around Astarion’s swollen cock. Astarion shuddered and gasped, his head falling back into the leather chair while his hips pushed forward into his pliant mouth. He could feel his desire bubbling up inside of him and pulling him closer and closer to completion.

“Halsin– Wait… Stop,” Astarion panted and pulled back his hair. Halsin immediately leaned back. His eyes darted up to Astarion’s face, wide with concern, searching for any sign of apprehension. Astarion let out a shaky breath and looked down at his partner, frowning at his confusion.

“Are you okay? Did I– did I do something wrong?” Halsin licked his lips waiting expectantly. Astarion brought a hand to his cheek. Halsin leaned into the touch and pressed his own hand against it.

“No, you are wonderful. You did such a good job,” Astarion said breathlessly. “I just– I didn’t want to finish in your mouth.”

Halsin sighed a breath of relief and pressed a kiss into Astarion’s palm. He swallowed and eagerly awaited his orders. He peered up at Astarion with wide eyes filled with desire. A small smile graced his plumped, thin lips.

“I have already admitted that I had wanted this for quite some time now,” Halsin said, his hand squeezed Astarion’s muscled thigh. “I’d give anything to have you.”

Astarion leaned forward, lifted up Halsin’s chin with the tips of his fingers, and pressed a chaste kiss against his lips.

“Then you shall,” he brushed their noses together and smirked. “Bend over your desk.”

Halsin’s eyes twinkled with delight as he nodded subserviently, “Yes, sir.”

Halsin pressed his hands into Astarion’s knees to help him stand up, groaning slightly as they popped under the strain. Astarion laughed as he tugged on Halsin’s towel and tossed it to the side. He stepped up to Halsin and placed his hands on Halsin’s hips, spinning him around. He pushed on Halsin’s back until his chest was flush against the mahogany desk. Astarion tapped the inside of Halsin’s ankles with his foot, motioning to spread his legs apart. Halsin obeyed, spreading his legs; he placed his hands on the desk to brace himself, shoving folders onto the floor.

Astarion’s hand landed against Halsin’s ass cheek, hard, pulling out a surprised yelp and leaving a matching reddened print.

“I worked for two hours compiling that information for you,” Astarion scolded.

“Sorry, Astarion,” Halsin said quietly, biting his lip to hold back a laugh.

“Oh you will be.”

Astarion spread Halsin’s cheeks and ran a teasing tongue over his lover’s hole. Halsin tensed up for just a moment, but relaxed as Astarion swirled his tongue around his entrance and lapped against the puckered skin with a heavy tongue. Halsin rested his head on the desk and brought his arms back behind him to hold open his cheeks for Astarion.

Halsin groaned, delighting in the pressure of Astarion’s tongue pushing into the tight ring of his entrance. Astarion, with his free hand, grabbed the bottle and coated his fingers with the lube. He slid his thumb up to circle Halsin’s hole, gently pressing into it. Halsin shifted back greedily.

Another slap was brought down onto Halsin’s ass cheek.

“Don’t rush me. I will go as slow as I please, understand?” Astarion said coolly. Halsin nodded in response. Astarion gently slid one finger in, a knuckle at a time, and Halsin exhaled into it. “Now, be a good boy and put one of your knees up on the desk, darling.”

Halsin released his hold on his asscheek and lifted up his leg, resting it on the cool wooden surface. He wrapped his hand around his thigh to hold it in place. Astarion pressed his hand into the abandoned cheek to spread it open once more. He then slid his finger out and pushed it back in, stretching against Halsin’s inner walls. After he felt the larger man relax, he slid in a second finger, pulling a groan from Halsin. Astarion curled his fingers and rubbed them against Halsin’s prostate.

Halsin moaned and pressed his forehead into the desk. Pre-cum dribbled out from his cock as it rubbed against the desk. His fingernails dug into his ass cheeks as he held himself open for Astarion’s pleasure - and his own. Halsin rocked slowly into Astarion’s fingers; this time Astarion allowed it and watched as Halsin fucked himself. Halsin’s eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth fell open, gasping for air.

“Is this what you wanted, Halsin?” Astarion asked, panting. His cock throbbed with need. The lawyer slid his fingers in and out of Halsin’s muscled ring, and slid a third finger inside. Astarion removed one of his hands and stroked himself while Halsin roiled against his fingers, sliding his pre-cum down his shaft. “Speak to me.”

“Yes,” Halsin replied breathily, “Yes, thank you…”

Astarion removed his fingers and Halsin whimpered in protest, biting his lip. Patiently, he stayed put, the sound of the pump on the lube bottle brought goosebumps across his skin. Astarion spread the lube all over his cock and removed Halsin’s hand from his spreading asscheek. He rubbed his length between Halsin’s crease, pushing aside his cheek, teasing the head of his cock against Halsin’s readied hole.

“Astarion, please,” Halsin begged, his mouth watered in anticipation.

“So impatient,” Astarion tutted. He lined himself up with Halsin’s entrance. Slowly, he pressed it against his tight rim.His eyes fluttered at the delicious pressure enveloping his cock. Halsin gripped the side of his desk with one hand as he stretched around Astarion’s length. He pulled out slightly before pressing himself flush against skin.

Astarion rolled his hips and thrust deep within Halsin. Halsin moved his hand down to wrap his hand around his neglected cock.

“Don’t you dare. You cleared a space for yourself on this desk. You’re going to use it.” Halsin hesitated a moment before exhaling restlessly and moved his hand back to his thigh, pulling his leg up higher. Astarion wrapped his hands around Halsin’s hips and pulled him back into him. Halsin yelped as Astarion’s cock filled him and brushed against his prostate. Small whimpers escaped his lips as he pressed his throbbing shaft onto the polished desk surface, rutting against the wood for friction. Astarion’s nails dug into the larger man’s skin as Halsin clenched tightly around him. Little jolts of pleasure run through his body as Astarion’s balls met his, slapping softly against each other.

Halsin’s mind was spiraling in bliss. He couldn’t remember the last time he was at a loss for words, thoughts, and any other feelings because of a lover. His head lolled. His mouth watered; saliva dripped from his lips as Astarion fucked him. Pressure pooled in his groin. Halsin’s hand gripped tightly on the corner of the desk and it crackled at the force. The only other noises were the sounds of the slapping of their skin and mutual moans.

Astarion stepped to the side and changed his position, pounding Halsin in quick short thrusts. Sweat dripped down his face as he felt himself get closer to release. He could feel how close Halsin was too, with the way he squeezed tighter around him and the high pitched moans that fell out of his slacked jaw.

Halsin was painfully hard. He had been edging on the cusp of an orgasm for too long. The desk barely offered any relief no matter how hard it rubbed himself against it. His prostate sent chills up and down his back every time Astarion thrusted. His mind grew hazy.

A warm hand traveled from his hips down to his thigh and in between his legs. Fingers gently explored until they found purchase on his ball sack. Halsin could have prayed to the gods. Astarion slowly massaged his sac at first, but then his pointer finger and thumb wrapped around his skin and pulled down, squeezing his testicles.

“Gah, fuck!” Halsin practically screamed, as he rocked himself into Astarion’s cock. Astarion felt Halsin’s balls tighten in his grip.

With Astarion’s name upon his lips, Halsin came in large spurts across the desk, shuddering with each pulse.

Astarion released Halsin’s sac and returned his grip to his hips, slamming himself deep into Halsin’s constricting hole, until he was fully engulfed inside of him. He pressed himself flush against his cheeks, fingernails dragging down and into Halsin’s tender flesh, losing himself in Halsin. He clenched his jaw, rolling between tensing and spasming as he climaxed. He gasped for air, not realizing he was holding his breath, and exhaled heavily before pressing his forehead onto Halsin’s back.

“You okay?” Astarion asked softly, his thumbs rubbing against Halsin’s thigh, as he pressed all of his weight into Halsin’s back exhausted.

“Mhmm,” Halsin mumbled deliriously. Astarion huffed out a laugh and pressed his lips against Halsin’s spine.

They stayed like that for a moment, panting heavily, trying to collect themselves. Their hearts pounded against their chests and Astarion softened inside of Halsin.

Once Astarion felt lucid enough to move, he pulled himself out of Halsin, both of them hissing at the stimulation. Halsin dropped his leg with a thud and shakily pushed himself up from the desk. A deep divot decorated his thigh from where it rested against the side of the surface. He blinked a few times as all of the blood came rushing back into his head as he stood upright.

Astarion leaned over and picked up one of their towels from the floor. He gently cleaned Halsin’s spent, sensitive cock, then slid the towel through his cheeks, gathering all of the oily lube. Halsin hummed with appreciation. Astarion quickly cleaned himself up, dragged the towel through the mess on the desk, and tossed it into the corner.

He looked up at Halsin who was gazing down at him so tenderly. A blush deepened upon Astarion’s already flushed skin. “What?”

Halsin leaned back against the desk and pulled Astarion against him, pressing a kiss against the smaller man’s forehead. “I like you.”

“I would hope so,” Astarion laughed softly before turning his head to rest his cheek on Halsin’s chest. Little chest hairs tickled Astarion’s nose. Halsin’s fingers gently traced the ridges and lines on Astarion’s back. Astarion sighed contently and loosely placed his arms around Halsin’s waist. “So… what now?”

Halsin mulled over the options in his head for a moment. “We can, uh… Stay here if you want? I’ve slept on this chaise plenty of nights. There’s pillows and blankets in the closet.”

Astarion tsked at Halsin in disapproval. “When do you go home, Halsin?”

“I’ll go home tomorrow,” Halsin replied, slightly evading the question. Astarion picked up on it, but didn’t want to push into it now.

There was a slight pause before Astarion spoke again. “Won’t someone be here in the morning?”

“No, it’s Friday. No one should be here on Saturday,” Halsin stopped his stroking on Astarion’s back and turned the smaller man’s head to look at him. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, Astarion. I am not forcing you to stay, or do… anything else if you’re not interested in anything beyond this.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and pressed a peck against Halsin’s lips. “Don’t be stupid, Halsin. I like you, too. I just don’t want to sleep on a glorified couch.”

Halsin smiled down at him. “It’s really not bad.”

Astarion sighed and took a step back. “Very well. It’s only for one night.”

Halsin pressed a tender hand against Astarion’s cheek and then moved to the closet to grab the bedding. Astarion followed behind and took the blankets and pillows from Halsin’s hands. He walked over to the chaise to ensure his makeshift bed was up to his standards.

Halsin closed the closet door and turned to gather the scattered files on the floor. He curiously flipped open one of the manila folders and read the documents inside.

“Astarion, what were these files for anyway?” Halsin asked while flipping through the paperwork, scanning over the highlighted lines.

Astarion stopped his motions, a half-fluffed pillow in his hands. He cleared his throat, hesitant to bring up the news.

Halsin turned around and looked at the pale man holding a pillow in his arms. Astarion huffed in annoyance and gestured toward the files. “It’s a summons. You’re getting sued by Absolute Inc for pulling out of your contract after the drill blew up. It’s being headed by Thorm, Gortash, and Bhaal.”

Halsin nodded his head and bit his lip in thought. “So, a Monday problem, yes?”

Astarion blinked at him and then laughed, “Yes, a Monday problem indeed.”

Halsin set down the file and padded over to Astarion. He pulled the pillow from his grasp and tossed it onto the chaise before crawling under the blankets and laying back into the soft cushions.

He opened his arms to Astarion who crawled up next to Halsin. His eyes were already feeling heavily with exhaustion from their evening.

They breathed in time with one another. Astarion nuzzled his face into Halsin’s chest and yawned. “I am resigning by the way.”

Halsin’s eyebrows pinch together confused. “What do you mean? I thought I was about to get sued? I need you.”

“I know, and I’ll help you get a replacement. I’ll still be here to support you the whole way through,” Astarion paused, shifting his gaze up at Halsin with a smirk, “but it’s bad practice to sleep with clients, and I’d really like to be able to do this again. If you’re interested.”

Halsin’s heart fluttered in his chest as his hand wrapped around the back of Astarion’s head and pulled him into a kiss before breaking away smiling. “I am.. very interested, Astarion.”

#astarion #halsin #oakdaddy #halstarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #fan fic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x halsin #halsin x astarion #halsin/astarion #astarion/halsin #fan fiction

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bloodlessbhaalbabe · 1 year ago

Text

Never Will Be, Always Was

Co-Authored by: @lotsofthinkythoughts and me

Beta'd by: @tatterings (Thank you, my dear)

Summary:

In the known tale of the Illithid invasion of Baldur's Gate, a valiant leader assembled a party designed to thwart the Netherbrain's threat. But, tales grow in the telling, and the truth can be stranger than fiction.

Enter Tav Atar, an ordinary elf with unpredictable magic surges who worked as an apothecary's apprentice in Baldur's Gate. All was well, until a Mindflayer's ship disrupted her simple existence.

Despite having no adventuring experience, Tav becomes the accidental leader of a ragtag group of misfits. With newfound friends and enhanced powers, she grapples with the responsibility of safeguarding their lives, and along the way finds that the most unique thing about her might not be her role in the crisis or the tadpole in her head.

Rating: Explicit (Eventually)

Words: 9,163

Relationship: Eventual Tav/Astarion, Tav/Halsin, Halsin/Astarion, and Tav/Astarion/Halsin (This is a polycule fic).

Art/Gif by me!

Read on AO3 and/or below:

Prologue

Early evening lamplight spilled across the cobbles of Baldur’s Gate, the deepening gloam kept at bay by the lamplighters running the streets to stay ahead of the dark. Beneath one of the freshly illuminated lamps a figure leaned, shoulders curled down as she consulted a ragged bit of parchment, mumbling softly to herself as she did.

“Why am I doing this again?” Tav muttered once her tally of herbs was complete, fingers clasped tight around the lightly enchanted vellum. She’d checked the list twice before heading back through the gates; this was the third time. She knew as certain as the setting sun, she had all that was requested and a few extras besides.

And yet, she was just as certain that once she entered the shop she’d recount the list a last time before speaking to her mentor.

With a sigh, she slipped the list of ingredients back into her hip-bag, where the ingredients themselves were stored neatly in bundles within impervious pouches of their own, and pushed away from the stone arch. The shop was near the bottom of the Markets, hidden in a little niche between a cooper and a cobbler. Pennyweather’s Potions and Allsorts had been there as long as Tav could recall. The thump when her father's head collided with the low hanging sign was a memory that lingered still.

She rubbed her arm through her linen sleeve as the memory faded. The cobbled streets turned uneven beneath her feet from years of market traffic as she passed into the Markets. The bustle of the city seemed louder tonight, a sign that perhaps she’d needed the quiet of the surrounding countryside more than she’d realized.

Then the timbre of the noise changed; a distant shout rolled closer, accompanied by a wave of footsteps. It was then that she noticed the evening crowd wasn’t milling about as one would expect on an early evening within Baldur’s Gate. The crowd seemed to be moving with purpose, swarming in her direction. She stretched up on her toes to catch a glimpse of what had caused the panic but in the rapidly deepening dark of evening, someone slammed into her shoulder. She tumbled to the ground in the center of the street with a hard crack against the cobblestones.

She blinked twice to gather herself against the sudden pain and rise to a standing position amidst the crush of people. She pulled her arms to her chest after a foot trampled one hand; she shifted to rise, only to be sent sprawling again. She curled into herself, not unlike a hedgehog trying to defend itself, her nose settling against her knees. Despite desperate attempts to see through the dust and blurred vision, all she accomplished were dry eyes and a deeper, dull thudding at the base of her skull. She couldn’t say how long she lay there, curled up, as feet knocked into her sides and panicked shouts rolled overhead.

With nothing but pain pressing in on her, it felt like time passed like watching a cauldron boil, a stretch that lingered overlong and snapped just when it seemed endless. And snap it did with the sudden realization that it all had stopped. One moment was heat and pain and noise, and in the next, the crowd had melted away as an otherworldly tentacle descended from the sky. Her vision cleared as it stretched out and touched her. A sick, unpleasant feeling swept over her; she sensed magic, but not her magic. This was something strange and other , pulling her unwillingly from one realm and slamming her, full force, into another. Her heart raced, rabbit-fast, as she peered about; something chitinous surrounded her, heavy, and dark, and strong. With all her strength, she slammed her fists into the glass in front of her and screamed.

Nothing happened. The glass didn’t even shiver with movement. Though space was limited, she pulled back her hand to try again, but stilled at a sudden clicking sound. In the dim light of the pod, her elvish eyes struggled to see a dingy yellow smoke curling from the slats of a grate at her feet. She stretched up, pushing against the top of the tiny pod to claw free, to find a gasp of fresh air. But her vision clouded as she felt her arms falling limp at her sides.

There was only the dark, the soft hissing of the gas.

Then nothing at all.

Her head jostled as the pressure within the pod released. The glass door hissed open, an acrid, acid scent wafting heavily in the damp air in the room. She blinked, eyes heavy and pained from dust and the acid in the air. She noticed a bowl in the center of the room, filled with a yellow liquid and something that moved . She stared at the large bowl, until there was movement on the far side of the room. A scuffling sound followed, then a voice, but the tall figure between her and whoever spoke didn’t move.

“No, no… please. Not again,” the voice called out, sounding scared and small, then desperate. “No! Don’t touch me. Get that thing off–”

A wet, squelching noise echoed across the dim room, causing her to wince as it was interrupted by a reverberating scream.

She tried to focus on the noise’s origin, squinting at the entity moving along the row of pods, but it stopped only a few feet from where it began. She could see something white being dragged across the floor, just out of her line of sight. She heard scratching and a rough grunt - whoever it was was trying to fight back, to escape. A stark moment of silence stretched after the voice let out another angry plea of “Let me go, damn you”. A distinct, ugly snap echoed to her left, bringing on the same wails as before. She knew that sound: the sound of crunched bones under strong force. She winced and bit the inside of her lip, her head slumped forward, mouth full of a taste of copper, pulling at the straps that bound her arms and legs tight as she attempted to fight the sluggishness of her body.

The bonds held; she didn’t have the leverage or strength to break them. Not when she felt so very tired. What was in that gas? There were plenty of plants with soporific or weakening effects if prepared correctly and in the right combinations. But even if she had an answer, it would make no difference. Her limbs were bound so tightly that her fingers and toes felt the pinprick pains of lack of blood.

Another squelch, another scream- closer..

A great four-fingered claw pushed her back into her pod, its grip on her head forcing to face forward. In front of her, a tall creature loomed, a robe of black and silver covering its long body. Its head was a mass of slithering tentacles, trailing from a sharp-toothed maw nearly hidden within them. Orange eyes bored into her with a malice she could hardly comprehend. The creature’s brain pulsed visibly beneath thin purple skin. She had never seen one up close, but she’d heard the stories, read the novels: this was a Mind Flayer.

It turned away from her for a moment before its empty, malicious gaze returned, and that same long hand rose above her. A writhing worm-like beast shifted in its hand. With a flare of hot nausea, she understood what had happened to the others.

The tadpole landed on her cheek, slick and wet, and smelling so strongly of the acid it was all she could do to keep herself from vomiting as she attempted to shake it off her skin. The creature crawled slowly up her face and paused directly in front of her eye, rearing up. The mouth of this tadpole opened up wide, hundreds of sharp tiny teeth appearing as it squealed and lunged at her eye socket, slithering and burrowing until it found a home deep within her brain.

Nausea ran through her again. Her jaw clenched through the unbearable pressure in her skull, and against the way the tadpole’s screech echoed in her ears still. The glass door closed once again, leaving her alone in the growing darkness. As her consciousness softened under the whispering hiss of the gas, she wondered if the screaming was her own.

She was abruptly ejected from the pod. Her body hit the warm keratinous floor and slid into the basin that held the parasites with a solid thump . Tav groaned, rubbing at her back where it collided with the solid base. She blinked a few times before sitting up.

Pink fleshy tendrils swung from the walls and ceilings, strangely organic for a structure of this size. Fire erupted from a loose section of flooring to one side of her. She flinched away as the grinding of warped, overheated material shook the foundations of the room. The other wall had been ripped away, wind whipping through the gap with a whistling shriek. She stood, shaking her head to clear it as the flames burned strong around the room and the ominous creaking grew louder. Along one wall, several pods lay empty, all identical save for the various states of damage. A spark of hope pierced through her like a lance of light through darkness. Perhaps there could be other survivors.

To her right, a body of a mind flayer lay, long dead from blunt trauma. She knelt down to pat down the pockets of the creature’s dark robes, and after a long moment, pulled away with a potion (a quick sniff that had a salty, gamey smell all but shouted ‘Speed Potion’ at her) and a strange orb that she couldn’t identify. A sudden fear seized her brain until her fingers wrapped around the bag of holding still at her hip. Inside were her ingredients, only a day old, and yet it seemed years ago. She reached into the leather pouch, up to her elbow, to tuck away the potion and, after a moment of consideration, let the strange orb lay alongside it for now. Sighing and stretching her back, feeling the bruise that was surely growing there, she pushed herself to her feet.

She stepped toward the great hole, toward the only natural light she’d seen since her abduction. As she drew nearer, she realized the light was the glow of miles of hellfire raging below.

They must be in Avernus somehow, but how and why? The thought crossed her mind but was ripped from it quickly as the whole ship jolted beneath her. She threw a hand out as she stepped back to regain her footing, and it landed on the edge of the basin. Under the barest pressure, the basin crumbled, flooding the floor with amniotic fluid. She shuffled back to avoid the yellow liquid. It splashed against her shoes, but despite the acidic smell, it didn’t burn against the leather.

Her hand reached up to wipe at her cheek where the tadpole had crawled up earlier. The skin was undamaged and dry. Dozens of little parasites lay motionless in the puddle. A flare of anger shot through her and before she’d given it much thought, her booted foot came down, stomping the tadpoles into viscous liquid. Over and over again, she slammed her feet down, until none of the parasites were more than a swipe of white flattened against the floor. None of them would get the opportunity to inhabit a host.

She tried not to think about the one wedged behind her own eye.

She peered out of the gaping wall, grabbing the cracked spaces where they seemed least likely to cut her palms to ribbons. There was nothing beneath the nautiloid, nothing but leagues of distance between this ship and hellfire. Even over the raging of the wind whipping against her ears, she heard a roar.

She turned back, crossing the sticky floor again, towards the only part of the wall that didn’t look half-crumbled or licked by flames. It was a large round door, made up of fleshy panels that made her stomach squirm unpleasantly. But, it was her only option, outside of jumping off a moving ship from who knows how high up into the hells. She squared her shoulders, heading toward the opening and hopefully, deeper into the ship. The muscular door contracted and widened itself to be large enough for her to pass through without touching it, the smallest of favors in this infernal day.

Through the passageway, she found a similar round room; the walls were covered in shiny pulsating brains, nerves stretching out through every structure. Several green jars filled with brains of various sizes were scattered all over the room. A goblin laid upon a surgical table, to one side of the room, and she rifled through its pockets though the search only turned up a few gold pieces. Still, it would be better than nothing if she could just manage to get off the ship alive.

At the center of this room stood a platform with an odd control panel, a glowing red button wreathed in fronds like an anemone. She looked around, searching for any explanation of what it was and where it might go, but without any helpful manuals on the operation and construction of Mind Flayer ships, the only real option was to simply approach it and press the button. When she did, her palm came away covered in a sticky residue.

“Cursed to put my hands on everything,” she muttered under her breath, wiping her palm on her opposite sleeve as the platform lurched into motion and rose up to the terrace above.

The first thing she saw was blood. Whatever this terrace was for, it hadn’t been kind. Behind a pillar to the left, she could see a greying and blood-caked hand beneath a foot in a similar state. Corpses. A stack of them.

She noticed a pale body strapped to a chair made of the same material as the walls and floor on the other side of the terrace. His head, topped with curls as pale as his skin with pointed ears peeking out, leaned forward. All four of his limbs were strapped down by tendrils covered in chitinous plates. It was a strange and grim apparatus, much like the rest of the ship.

She approached the man, gently tilting his head back with shaking hands. He’d not gone grey like the bodies behind the pillar. Her fingers trembled as they found purchase on his neck, pressing and feeling for a pulse. She couldn’t feel anything, but the memories of the few basic lessons she’d had with the healer who set her patients to Master Jarkles slipped away.

Please, please don’t be dead. She thought, pressing her fingers against his neck again, the pad of one finger catching on a raised scar there. She frowned, and though she knew it was unlikely to tell her anything her inability to find a pulse hadn’t, she pressed her lips against his forehead, icy cold under her skin. For a split second, nothing happened. Then the man suddenly thrashed to the side, making her fall back onto her rear.

“Don’t touch me!” He shouted at her wild eyed and angry, before pausing and looking at her, still sitting on the floor. His eyes, color indiscernible in the dim light, narrowed at her. “Did… did you just kiss my forehead?”

“Oh! Thank the gods. You are alive! I thought I kissed a dead body.” She felt a flush creep up her cheeks, cast her gaze at the floor, before inhaling and settling her shoulders. “It’s to check your temperature. You get a more accurate reading…I think. I don’t know, I’m afraid my healing experience is limited.”

“Why didn’t you check my pulse? Or try just saying ‘hello’ for starters?”

She shifted toward his feet as she spoke, the ache in her back reasserting itself. “I was checking your pulse! I couldn’t - oh, I don’t know, alright. Today’s just been really stressful and I’m not thinking straight.” She sighed, rubbing the heels of her palms against her eyes before catching the trapped man’s gaze.

Something lurched inside Tav’s brain, a squirm and writhe before connecting to something in his mind - followed by a rushing sensation like a river breaking its banks. Her head ached with an unfamiliar pressure, then suddenly, she wasn’t on the ship. Instead, she was surrounded by darkness, wrapped in shadows like a cloak with a sharp lance of something coursing through her. Before she could place it, a series of images swept her up, accompanying a torrent of sensations she could make little sense of: a glint of moonlight on a knife blade and the heft of a coin purse hitting her palm, the sound of voices on dimly lit cobblestone streets, the feeling of glass beneath her fingertip as she ran it along the rim of a half full glass of wine in a secluded tavern corner. And beneath it all, a heavy twist of fear.

Just as abruptly as the connection happened, it pulled back, wrenching her into her own mind once more. She leaned back heavily, using her hands to support herself against the release of the phantom pressure. Blinking twice, she shook her head against the tingling aftershock of the unintentionally psionic connection.

“What in the hells was that?” He asked, head snapping to the side, breaking their eye contact.

“I don’t know. I think it has something to do with the tadpoles they… implanted.” She winced at her own wording, and suppressed a shudder before exhaling heavily as she steadied herself.

He turned back to her, looking at her sharply. Tav looked up at him from her position on the floor, feeling pinned beneath his gaze. A moment later he sighed.

“Of course,” he said, voice threaded with resignation. The ship shuddered, and his expression changed, and he spoke again, tone as sharp as his gaze had been before. “Well, don’t just sit there!”

Tav blinked twice before shifting toward his feet. “Right, right. Sorry.” The tendrils wrapped around his limbs were unlike anything she’d ever seen before. She searched for anything that might serve as a latch. She glanced up at him. “This might take a moment to make sense of… this. Besides, you told me not to touch you.”

He let out a huff of exasperation.

“By the gods… Obviously, I didn’t know if you were one of those tentacle freaks with your mouth attached to my forehead. Get me out of here!”

“Alright, alright. It would be much simpler if these were just ropes - I’d have some idea what to do with those.”

“Have experience with that sort of thing, do you?” The elf smirked. She raised an eyebrow at the comment before returning to searching the tendril for a weakness.

“I’m not nearly drunk enough for that conversation, especially given we haven’t exchanged names yet.” At the base of the tendril, she spotted a fleshy spot slightly wider than her thumb. Tav shoved her thumb against it, wrinkling her nose at the sticky feeling, but as she pulled back, the tendril recoiled. With a triumphant grin, she repeated the motion on the other side before moving up to deal with his arms.

“I’m Tav, by the way,” she said, as she pressed against the last weak spot.

“I’m Aahhh–” He yelped. “Watch it! Those bastards broke my arm when dragging me away.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know any other way to get rid of these… whatever they are.” She pulled her hands back, into a stance of surrender as he stood, cradling his arm against his chest.

“Yes, well-” He shifted his good shoulder in a careless shrug. “I’m Astarion.”

She frowned at the sight of him protecting his injury and looked around, grimacing at the thought of having to sift through the bodies behind her.

“What are you doing?” Astarion asked, stepping closer to her.

“Looking for something I can use to splint your arm. Though I’ll have to find a knife before I’ll have any cloth to bind it.”

“You can’t find a pulse, but you can splint an arm? Forgive me if I don’t trust your healing knowledge.”

On instinct, her hand went to her hip as she turned to glare at him. “Do you have a better plan?”

“Getting off this godsdamned ship as soon as possible and finding a real healer.”

“A lovely thought, but one step at a time,” She said, tilting her head at the lift she’d used to reach the landing, before crossing to it and pressing the mechanism to lower them back down to the main floor. The red glow of the button glinted off the pommel of the dagger at Astarion’s side, and she pulled it from its sheath with one quick motion.

“Hey!” He reached out to grab for the dagger with his bad arm as she walked away toward the dead goblin on the table near the entrance of the room. He groaned, and she could hear the whisper of fabric rubbing against itself as he supported it with his good arm again. “You could ask, you know?”

Ignoring the note of resignation in his voice, she cut into the goblin’s clothing, using the knife to rip the rough seams of the leather jerkin. She pulled the thin leather panel from the corpse, examining it to make sure it was long enough, before tying it up into a sling. “It’s no splint, but Master Jarkles would appreciate the quick thinking.”

“That smells like death.” He grimaced as she put it over his head, sliding his arm neatly into the fold. “Now can we find a way out of here?”

Tav frowned distastefully. “Wow, thank you , Tav. It’s so nice of you, a stranger , to not only release me from captivity, but find a temporary solution for my injured arm. You’re so nice and pretty, Tav .” She said in an obviously mocking tone, coupled with an exaggerated head wobble and hand gestures.

She slid his dagger back into its sheath, moving around him before he could respond, and glazing around the room one last time. With a sigh, she approached the opposite side of the chamber. Her long, braided hair flowed behind her as gusts of hot wind poured through the shattered walls. The sides of the ship had peeled away from impact. The aortic valves and ligaments of the living ship quivered in the exposed heat of hellfire. Shreds of webbed muscle fibers and arterial mesh decorated the remaining chitinous ledge, and in the distance below, she could see, the ship’s tenticular appendages snap and writhe, guiding the vessel forward like oars.

A bellowed screech floated overhead as a red dragon swooped into view. Its hot, fiery breath pelted the shell of the ship, as Tav ducked behind a fallen piece of wall to stay out of sight. The unprotected flesh curls into itself, sizzling and snapping as if placed on a griddle. Neither dragon nor rider noticed Tav or Astarion crouched in the wreckage of the ship as they passed, clearly set on another target. Peering around the fallen wall, she could see the fire was matched a moment later with beams of purple, psionic energy, bombarding the hardened skin of the dragon. A slow moment passed, one heartbeat then two, but the dragon made no sign of doubling back. Tav exhaled heavily and took a few cautious steps forward onto the ledge. The yawning fiery expanse of Avernus stretched beneath them. She turned to glance behind her, checking that her new ally was still following. He stood two paces behind her, but his gaze wasn’t on the path ahead, but instead on the ledge above them.

Her gaze shifted up, catching sight of a figure just as it leapt into motion, lunging off the ledge with catlike grace, somersaulted overhead to land in front of her. Before Tav managed to even take a breath, the figure pressed the point of a blade against her neck. Her hand curls outward on instinct, a spell flickering energy across her fingertips, ready to defend herself.

Swallowing nervously, she found herself staring into yellow eyes. Beneath them was a smear of black warpaint, a dramatic sweep against green skin. Her ears swept up into tall dramatic points, and the outer curves were marked by a serrated texture like the lacinia of some leaves. She’d never seen a gith in person before, but before she could think any farther something shifted. The moment of eye contact had been enough to trigger the tadpole once again; that same blinding pressure and sensation of writhing before connection rushed through her quickly enough to make Tav stagger back a step. The feeling tingled like pins and needles as the visions swept over her.

Flashes of another world flicked by: floating in the spatial abyss atop a dead god, the beat of dragon’s wings, the sight and sound of battle, silver swords clashing, blood spraying, then her own face, lit by the dim orange glow of hellfire below as her eyes widened and her hands went to her temples, singing one side with a brush of magical discharge. Then the connection pulled back, and the gith woman met her gaze once more.

“What was that?” The woman hissed, her sword lowering as she regained her balance. “I saw– I saw your mind. Memories that did not belong to me. You are no thrall.”

“No, not a thrall. But I saw your mind as well. I believe we may have connected through the tadpoles somehow.”

“Regardless, Vlaakith blesses me this day! I have seen the power you bury within yourself. She has granted me a formidable ally. Together we might survive.”

“I’m Tav.” She held out her hand in greeting. The Githyanki glared at her extended palm. Tav lowered it sheepishly, twisting her fingers against her traveling clothes.

“ Tsk’va , I do not have time for pleasantries. We must get to the helm and take control of this ship. It is the only way we might make it out of here.” She paused and took a moment to eye Astarion over, her gaze settling on the makeshift sling with disdain. “However, I would leave the infirm one behind, he is useless in battle, and will only slow us down.”

“Infirm?! Excuse me, I am injured, not useless!” Astarion retorted, his free hand dramatically shifted to his hip, fingers near the pommel of his dagger.

“ Chk , a real warrior would not coddle something as trivial as a broken bone. But if it is as you say, you will get the chance to prove yourself. We must exterminate the imps ahead. They are blocking the only way forward.”

Tav nodded and led the group toward the imps in the next corridor. She crouched low, though there wasn’t much cover to hide behind. However, it seemed that it was unnecessary. Only three of them remained after the attack on the mindflayers and their thralls. The devilish heads buried in the bodies of the fallen, gnawing the flesh down to the bone, painted a gruesome picture of the attack. Tav watched them for a moment, hearing the crunch of bone and wet sound of muscles tearing as the imps feasted. She looked at the gith and Astarion, fingers clenching around the center of her quarterstaff, watching as they drew their blades. They both watched her closely. The gith shifted her weight forward with barely restrained momentum, and it was then that she realized they were waiting for her word. Nerves bloomed in the pit of her stomach, a sick twisting feeling at the realization, but she nodded and motioned at the imps.

Their new, green, bloodthirsty friend charged in, unleashing her fury onto an imp in the center, her longsword cutting a wide swathe around her and nearly cleaving the creature in half. Droplets of blood sprayed outward in an arc, as she swung. Astarion ducked swifty beneath her blade as another imp screeched and lunged toward him. With his free hand, he turned and stabbed it in the back as he slipped past. Tav shifted forward to the gith’s other side, both hands tight around her quarterstaff as she lifted it up and brought it down on the center of the imp’s head, crushing its skull. It fell to the ground with a thump.

With the imps out of the way, Astarion wiped his dagger clean of the imp’s blood on the shirt of one of the dead thralls. “See? I don’t need two hands to spill blood,” He said, with a flourish and a little flip of the blade before catching it with the same hand.

The warrior didn’t reply, merely glaring and putting away her blade, but Astarion didn’t seem bothered. Tav said nothing, opting instead to check the pockets of the bodies left behind, placing all the valuables, and a spare knife or two, inside her bag.

“Seems like we have a little thief among us,” Astarion teased as he leaned over her, tucking away his dagger.

“I‘m just trying to be prepared. I think we’re in Avernus. Who knows what will happen if we get out of this plane and off this ship. I’m not going to be left without anything to at least barter with.” Tav retorted, dropping a few health potions in with the rest of it. “Besides, I’m not sure it counts as thieving if they’re dead.”

“We have no time for idle prattle. We must reach the helm.” The gith said,

Tav pushed herself up, closing her bag. “Alright, alright. Hopefully we don’t encounter anything else before we get there.”

Around the corner of the corridor, the hallway opened up into a fully intact, suspended platform.

An ominous pulsating chamber glowed in the center of the room, rising from the level below.The light was a hellish red giving the whole chamber a grim cast. Five beds were evenly distributed around it, attached by ligamental sinews, strange and fleshy, but glowing with the same light of the central chamber. And in the space directly in front of them, was a console, chitinous and unpleasant, with three large buttons with a gelatinous sheen, and large placards with a script she couldn’t parse above them. It hummed with an unpleasant energy, psionic and prickling. Tav approached the console, her companions at her back. From the corner of her eye, she could see Astarion reach his hand out to the gelatinous structure, and on instinct she reached out and smacked it away. He pulled his hand back to his chest, glaring.

“Don’t press any buttons unless you know for sure what they do.” She scolded him and he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re no fun.”

Unable to make any sense of the console, she moved closer to the first of two thralls who lay unconscious on the beds. As Tav approached them, it was clear they were beyond help. Dark sunken shadows stood out surrounding their eyes, but the unnatural chill of their skin verified it.

She opened her mouth to comment, to say something to assuage the grim despair building within her. It felt hopeless, though she wasn’t ready to give up. Her thoughts were interrupted by soft thuds and muffled screaming coming from the side of the room. Tav whirled around, all put running toward the sound, seeing a pod tucked behind a pillar with a woman trapped inside.

“Get me out of here! Please!” The woman begged. Tav inspected the pod, searching for a latch or button, for any sort of weakness in the shell of it. She could find nothing that looked vaguely familiar, and luck wasn’t in her favor as it had been before.

“We don’t have time for stragglers,” The Githyanki hissed, “We must escape. Leave her!”

Tav whipped around to face the impatient warrior, her braid flying wildly enough that Astarion had to lean back so as not to be caught by it. "Fine.” She said, gesturing toward the doors on the other sides of the room. “Go right ahead on your own, but I'm not leaving anyone behind without at least trying to help."

Tav rested her palm upon the console next to the pod, feeling the prickle of psionic energy once more. She pushed forward, a singular thought, willing it with all her might: Open.

The device didn’t respond, feeling strangely empty and disconnected.

“Oh, I’m not allowed to touch anything, but you can just poke and prod at anything you want.” Astarion sneered dramatically.

Tav sighed, feeling stretched and thin by fighting and the day and now the snappish responses from her companions. Her magic already was welling in her fingertips from where she’d tried to connect to the console. She turned, dragging her fingers across the console, feeling the bite of the uneven texture against them.

“Astarion, not now. I think I can open this. I just need a… connection of some sort.” Tav paused when her fingers hit an empty spot within the console and turned to see it was a rectangular slot. She shifted so he could see it. “Look for something that might fit into this, please? I’ll try to see if I can magic her out of this.”

Astarion groaned, and wandered away while Tav reached out with her magic properly, trying to navigate and override the system. The console took hold, much like the tadpole connections had, but there were no images or feelings, only a feeling deep in her mind, like pulling tendrils of her soul apart like petals from a flower. With a shout, she let go of the connection, reeling two steps back, before the machine could take more than what she was willing to give.

"What are you doing? Get this open!" The woman shouted, desperation clear in her voice as she continued endlessly beating her fists against the glass.

"Listen, I'm trying not to kill you, so I suggest letting me focus!" Tav growled, as she squared her shoulders and approached the console again. Tav inhaled, hands raising as she prepared to cast, but was interrupted as Astarion returned. He looked even paler than before, his eyes taking on a quality Tav could only call haunted, but in his palm, he held a key and a rectangular rune.

“That might work.” She said, reaching for the rune.

He didn’t respond, gaze set firmly on the pod and console.

“What did you find?” She asked softly, fingers curling about the stone in her hand as she suppressed the urge to ask what was wrong.

“Don’t press any of the buttons if you don’t know what they do,” He repeated to her, finally looking her in the eye. Tav crossed her arms, waiting for a more thorough explanation. “I saw it. I saw what happens to us if we don’t get these tadpoles out of our heads. It’s… awful.”

Tav frowned, It wasn’t a surprise really, that whatever the tadpoles would do would be bad, but the last thing they needed was more stress. She sighed and turned back to console. “Then we better get a move on. We only have so much time.”

She slotted the rune into the console, and it lit up, the weak thread of psionic energy that she’d been connecting to before growing in intensity as the console hummed. Tav laid her hand upon the glowing orb and reached out with her thoughts again. The tadpole writhed at the connection, burrowing itself deeper into her mind. It was a biting feeling, but it carried with it a strange feeling of contentment followed immediately by a gut wrenching sense of unease. But all of that paled in comparison to the sense of utter uninfringed authority that flowed over Tav. She clung to the feeling as she made her way back through the psionic pathways of the system, willing the pod to open, until a click resonated through her thoughts, proving the pod was now open. She opened her eyes, to see the pod’s shell open with a hiss, and the woman fell to the floor. Tav pulled back her hand, severing the already waning connection, a residual tickle of psionic energy shivering down her spine. She shook her head to ground herself, and reached out to help the stranger up from the ground.

“Thank you, I thought that pod was going to be my coffin-” The woman said, as their tadpoles connected, flitting through a strong feeling of gratefulness, but above all else the overwhelming desire to survive. The connection ended nearly as soon as it started, almost as though the woman was capable of pushing it out of her mind. Tav looked at her curiously, she had a cut running across her brow, and her hands were bruised from beating against the sealed pod.

The woman didn’t seem to notice Tav’s inspection. She patted herself down and looked around her, before peering into the pod, and pulling out a conch-like ball and sliding it into her pack.

“What’s with the spiky ball?” Tav asked, eyebrows raised.

“Listen, I appreciate you saving my life, but I suggest minding your own business.” The woman said sharply, before pausing and sighing. “I’m sorry. Today has been long and overwhelming to say the least. I’m Shadowheart.”

“Tav. This is Astarion and… Well, I don’t know her name actually? She’s not one for formalities.”

“ Chk .” the Githyanki spat, already edging away from the group. Shadowheart nodded in their direction and cast healing word onto herself, her cuts healing over in the wash of soft blue light.

A cleric of some kind then. Certainly useful, since right now they had all of a handful of health potions to their name and whatever she could manage to make once they were out of the hells and off the ship. Assuming she’d be alive to do so at any rate.

"Would you mind sharing some of that with Astarion? He had his arm broken." Tav suggested pointing at Astarion’s limp arm in the sling.

“I’m not sure I trust your judgment in finding me a proper healer.” Astarion turned and cast a downward glance at Shadowheart.

Tav clenched her jaw and took a deep breath, opening her mouth to say something, but closed it instead, walking away to disperse the rising heat that was flowing through her. She’d thought the feeling was because of where they were before, but now she knew better. She walked away, taking a half circle of the room around the glowing pillar, unaware of the trail of steaming, mossy foot prints she left behind.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Astarion and Shadowheart both glance at the ground before looking at each other, and then the gith, who had not moved, her arms still firmly crossed as she stood still as a statue.

“I could always just leave you to suffer if you’d like?” Shadowheart chirped after a moment of silence, and Astarion begrudgingly stretched his broken arm out toward her. She grabbed his forearm and flipped it up, pulling a yelp out from Astarion before her healing energy set into his aching bones. “Oops, did that hurt? I’ll be more gentle next time.”

Tav rubbed at her temples, wondering if it was this day that was cursed or perhaps just her. She exhaled deeply, before watching her new companions again. Now was not the time to dwell on curses. She watched as Astarion smirked a little, clearly pleased as he massaged his forearm. Shadowheart checked her shoulder into his when she walked away, settling next to Tav.

“Finally!” The gith exclaimed. “You all act like petulant children. No self-preservation in sight. Now let’s go.”

After a moment to check the pockets of the dead prisoners, and to unlock a chest with the other key Astarion had found, they were off, traveling down the strange fleshy corridors. They were more intact than any they’d encountered before, which could only be taken as a good sign. Or at least, Tav hoped so. The farther they wandered through the halls of the ship, the more the ship creaked and listed to the side. They were running out of time.

Finally they came to a large empty room, clearly an antechamber of some sort, with only one other door. They’d reached the last change to gather themselves before the helm.

The gith seemed to notice that too, stopping and issuing a command not unlike a general on a field of battle. “Once we are inside the helm, do as I say.”

Shadowheart scoffed at the order. “Who put you in charge? I’ll trust my own judgment.”

“Unless you have experience fighting ghaik it would behoove you to listen to my superior knowledge.”

“Superior- !” Shadowheart reeled back, face contorted into a dark sneer.

The ship shook violently again, as Astarion cut in. “As delightfully catty and entertaining as this is, I don’t think we have the time.”

Neither of the women said anything, still glaring at one another, but they turned toward the door to the helm.

“Wait!” Tav cried out, flipping open the bag of holding and shoving her arm into it. She thought first of the items she’d added to it as they’d traversed the ship, and withdrew her hand as a dagger materialized within. “Here,” she said, transferring it to her other hand and holding it out for Astarion to take, “You have two good hands now; two knives seems better than one.”

Even as she spoke she was reaching into the bag, thinking very clearly of one of the sealed containers of ingredients from before this whole nightmarish sojourn. A heavy glass container weighed down her hand as she attempted to maneuver it free. As soon as Astarion took the dagger from her other hand, she used it to support the container, flipping the hinged lid back, and pulling out two bundles of dried weavemoss. Holding them between her fingers, she closed the container and slipped it back into the bag.

“We do not have time for plants!” The gith warrior said, almost petulant in her desire to get to the helm.

Tav could hardly blame her impatience. Their chances of escape would crumble around their ears, unless they took control soon.

“If you want us to be useful in any sort of fight,” Tav said to her, gesturing at Shadowheart and herself. “I suppose I shouldn’t speak for her, but today has been the worst sort of day and using magic is tiring. This will help.”

She proffered one of the bundles to Shadowheart, who took it with a skeptical look. “What is it?”

“Weavemoss. It helps with arcane focus and casting. It works best if distilled into a vitriol and combined with a sublimate, but we don’t have the time for that. Chewing it as is will help more than nothing.”

All three of the others stared at Tav, and she felt herself start to blush under the scrutiny. So as to avoid thinking about it, she popped her own bunch of purple moss into her mouth and began to chew. It was crumbly and bitter, with a strange zing to it that could not be quantified as anything but the flavor of magic. The magical heat that had banked a little as they’d journeyed through the corridors of the ship flared again, not pressing, simply present.

Shadowheart wrinkled her nose as she watched her chew, but nodded eventually. “Alright, I suppose we can use every advantage we can get.”

With a grimace, the dark haired woman popped the moss in her mouth and chewed. After a moment she shook her head.

“That’s absolutely vile.”

Tav shrugged. “Most potions and their ingredients are.”

“Are you finished now?” The gith’s stare all but pinned Tav to the floor.

“I don’t have anything else useful in the bag of tricks, no.”

“To battle then.”

“I certainly won’t say no to some revenge,” Astarion added, now with a dagger in each hand.

And with that, they headed through the door.

On the other side a battle raged, two mindflayers locked in combat with two cambions, hell boars, and imps. Directly in front of them, the first of the mindflayers swooped backwards, out of range of the cambion’s flaming blade. Farther into the room, the other mindflayer loomed behind a cambion, suddenly lunging forward and wrapping its tentacles around its horns and jaw. The tentacles pulled the creature’s head back sharply as the mindflayer set its mouth to the trapped skull with a wet squelch. It let out a pulsating sound, one that made Tav’s jaw clench, as it pulled back. But immediately, it was swarmed by a group of imps, slashing at its purple skin with hellish claws.

It fell in a crumpled heap and the imps scattered, slipping around the battle at the center of the room. The remaining mindflayer let free a bright purple blast of psionic magic. The cambion was shoved backward, arms spread wide as he slid across the floor.

The mindflayer turned to the group, orange eyes glowing as it spoke, voice reverberating in Tav’s skull as the tadpole writhed again. ”Thrall. Connect the nerves of the transponder. We must escape. Now!”

It gestured at a console on the far side of the room, bluish tendrils extending from both the ceiling and the console on the ground. The tendrils were capped by wide flat ends with thorned edges that curled up. Behind the disconnected tendrils, the light of Avernus flooded in through broken windows.

“We should do as he says and deal with him once we are out of battle,” the gith shouted over the roar of the ship’s engine and the wind rushing through the shattered helm windows.

After a glance at the others, giving them each a nod, Tav inhaled sharply, her heart hammering as she began to move, flinging a flame bolt at an imp as it dropped toward her from the ceiling. It let out a screech as the flames licked through the skin of its wings, dropping to the ground like a stone. A squealing was all the warning any of them received as a hell boar charged toward the group, its eyes and tusks glowing like embers.

“Watch out!” she shouted, instinct kicking in as she leapt just in time to avoid the tusk goring her calf, staggering as she landed, and turning to check on the rest of the group.

To one side, a silvery dagger flew through the air and landed firmly in the neck of an imp, stopping its chittering laugh. A gurgle of blood emptied from the wound as Astarion pulled the blade from the creature’s neck. Without breaking his stride, he turned and ran full tilt in her direction.

A bellowing cry shifted Tav’s attention to the gith warrior as she buried her sword deep into the spine of the hell’s boar. So far, in fact, that it burst out the other side of the creature and wedged itself into the chitin floor. She yanked, but to no avail, another imp rushed down toward her, the crackle of flame sparking in its claws.

“Incandus!”

The shout stopped the imp before it could strike, engulfing the creature in a radiant golden flame from Shadowheart’s outstretched hand. The creature made no sound as it disintegrated, leaving behind nothing but a flutter of ash in the hot wind coursing through the helm.

“Change of plans!” Tav said, as Shadowheart ran up beside her with the gith on her heels. “Can you make him drop his sword?” she said, tilting her head at the cambion.

Shadowheart’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “Yes.”

“Do it.”

She turned to their disarmed warrior. “When it falls, you should take it. Then we break for the transponder.”

Yellow eyes stared at her grimly for a long moment, interrupted only by the sound of the battle between the cambion and mindflayer. “Very well.”

Tav bounced on her toes, gripping her quarterstaff in both hands. “Are you sure now is the time to be indulging your penchant for loot?” Astarion hissed in her ear. “I think giving the strongest among us a blade is the right idea, yes.”

She looked to Shadowheart and nodded. The dark-haired cleric stretched her hand out, calling out an incantation over the howling of the wind. With a clatter, the flaming blade fell to the floor at the cambion’s feet, just as the mindflayer unleashed another wave of psionic energy.

“Time to move!” Tav shouted. The gith sprinted forward, her hand wrapping around the hilt of the sword, hefting it up as she sprinted toward the transponder, falling in with the rest of them. They made it up the stairs to the landing where the console sat, only to see a dragon swoop by, its roar only muffled by the sound of the wind.

More hellish creatures charged in from the shadows. The imps and the hellboar were easily dispatched as they ran, but it was too late - the cambion had called for allies. With three cambions and a mindflayer on their heels, there was little any of them could do but throw spells as they ran. It barely slowed them down, and they had to scatter to the sides until Tav was alone in the center, enemies advancing on her.

Tav could feel the tingling of electric heat in her fingers again, and knew it wouldn’t abate. She squeezed her eyes shut and reached out, her hand making contact with the console of the transponder. The energy inside her grew, roiling near the surface now, the magic that was so deeply a part of her that she couldn’t access or control.

She inhaled raggedly, attempting to hold off just a moment longer as her hands reached behind her to pull two of the tendrils together. She stared down the enemies bare feet from her. Tiny sparks crackled from the tips of her fingers.

“What are you doing! Connect the damned things and get us out of here!” Astarion shouted, and she turned in the direction of his voice. Her eyes widened in panic as her vision clouded. An inky phthalo green cast over her irises, shadowing and pulling at the color of the previously silver pools. Blackness seeped from the edges of deep green and enveloped the whites of her corneas. Her pupils dilated as her magic surged within her irradiating and glowing.

Astarion took a step back, his brows furrowed in surprise, watching as Tav became enveloped in clouds of radiant neon energy, bleeding from every pore.

Her vision faded away entirely as the tendrils connected, and a floating feeling swept over her pulling her loose braid apart. A strong pulse of fire and lightning crackled through her, more insistent now.

“Hold on to something!” she shouted, but in her own ears the voice sounds foreign, deeper and more resonant.

A whoosh of air swept down toward her behind her. Without looking, she grabbed at the wrist of her attacker with her free hand. The texture of the skin beneath her fingers was slightly damp and slimy, and she knew this must be the mindflayer.

She turned to look over her shoulder, "You should really be more mindful of the types of people you pick up."

The power vibrated within her, like a million thorns pricking the underside of her skin, the magic in her blood trying to push its way through. She shoved the offending hand away with gritted teeth, inhaling a breath and smelling the sky after a storm. The air crackled like a live charge, a growing buzzing filling the air, the sound of the ship’s engines and wind gone, in place of a deadly stillness. Silence swept over the room.

Please be a good one, She thought.

Then she screamed as the magic escaped her. An almost deafening crack thundered from the sheer force of the magic radiating off of her. A beam of light burst from her in waves as enemies that surrounded her disintegrated into dust. The beam tore through the ship around them. It shoved her backward, over the console, her only tether was the hand still wrapped around the transponder’s nerves. Her eyes blinked open, vision blurred like upon first waking. The ship crumbled around them, bits of the flooring falling past her as the ship hurtled toward its final destination. For an instant, she felt weightless before gravity reasserted itself with a heavy pull.

Opening her mouth to call out, she glanced around, looking for the others. But there was too much debris; crumbled pillars and floors and a thick sheet of dust along with it fell toward her, sending her into a round of coughing as she clung to whatever she could to stay stable. Just as she opened her eyes again, a large section of a pillar fell toward her, her eyes widening as she flung her body to the side with what little control she had as they plummeted downward.

But even that did nothing, as a moment later a smaller, dreadfully heavy chunk of something fell onto her chest. Her fingers released on instinct and she was sent careening away from anything she could find purchase on. Her fingers slipped over the strange fleshy remnants of walls as she fell through the debris.

Then she made contact with something solid. A body. Cold fingers wrapped around her, grasping and clinging. She used every ounce of strength she had to wrap herself around the body, a head of white hair slipping into her field of vision as she tucked her head down closer. She locked her arms around Astarion’s back, her own hands icy in the wind. She felt him go limp as soon as they latched around him, his weight pushing against her, knocking the breath out of her once more.

She inhaled, the cold wind like knives in her lungs as she closed her eyes. The ship, and its fire and smoke, didn’t matter now. All that mattered now was this feeling, the endless feeling of falling. The sharp and high whistle of the wind as they cut through it.

She tried to call up her magic, but she felt drained, as if the magic were at the bottom of a deep well. She tried again, and once more, before giving up the attempt.

Her mind wandered as she fell, trailing back over a century. The cold gripping her limbs, pulling at them until she could fight it no more. Her eyes fell closed, listening to the wind whistle past, her head falling back. Her limbs feel heavy, unable to fight the exhaustion and pressure and cold that pulled at her from every direction.

It was so easy to just give in.

As she let go, she wondered if perhaps death brought peace.

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