Chapter Text
The first time Gale sees the elf, he’s eight years old and on a field trip to Baldur’s Gate, trailing along behind his classmates.
Gale is doing his damnedest to see everything, remember everything - he’s always wanted to see the city of Baldur’s Gate. He had wanted to see it badly enough that he was willing to suffer the four hour bus ride from Waterdeep, sitting alone all scrunched up against a window, listening to the cacophony of conversation and joyous screeching around him.
It made him want to crawl out of his skin.
By the third hour, Gale was near-tears, hands clamped over his ears in a desperate attempt to shut out some of the chaos going on around him.
When the bus finally pulled to a stop and parked on the outskirts of the city, Gale couldn’t rush to the front fast enough. He still had his hands pressed over his ears; thankfully, he had to assume that it was also drowning out the laughter and teasing that was chasing him off the bus. He stumbled down the last step, hitting the asphalt with a muffled ‘oof’.
Much to his dismay, he felt the cotton of his pants tear underneath his knees, making him grit his teeth as he struggled back to his feet while his classmates streamed around him like a rock in the middle of a river.
“Come on, Gale!” That was his teacher, Mr. Aumar, a hand on his hip and looking annoyed. Gale stared at him with wide eyes - couldn’t he see that he’d torn the knees of his pants and that the world was just too damned loud right now?
Apparently not. Gale slowly got to his feet and shuffled after his class; they were chattering and giggling and swapping jokes that he never seemed to be a part of. Well, unless he was the object of the joke. That, he was used to.
He took a deep breath and followed, determined to enjoy himself.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Gale tried.
He truly did.
He smiled through the tour of the docks. Through the tour of Wyrm’s Rock. Through the market. Through the offices of the Baldur’s Mouth newspaper. They even took a walk past the Devil’s Den - well, more like a run past it, because they were all scared of it.
Gale was holding out for Sorcerous Sundries; he’d heard tales of how it was the largest bookstore on the Sword Coast. And, quite frankly, he’d been hoarding his allowance for months in anticipation of this.
After lunch at the Elfsong Tavern, Mr. Aumar was rounding up the class, intent on taking them to the tabernacle near the gates. Gale’s heart began to sink; he could see Sorcerous Sundries, it was right there, and yet -
“Aren’t we going to Sorcerous Sundries?” Gale asked, tugging on the sleeve of Mr. Aumar’s robes.
“We’re running out of time, Gale. We don’t have time for souvenir shopping.”
“It’s not souvenirs. It’s books,” he squawked, offended.
“Mr. Aumar, are we going?” called one of his classmates.
“Yes, yes, Lily. Come along, children.”
Gale glanced behind him longingly, finally dragging his feet to follow.
“Psst.”
He jerked his head up, looking around; it certainly hadn’t sounded like one of his classmates.
“Over here, gods.”
Gale turned his head to see a young elf hovering behind a barrel next to the tavern; he had a mop of silver-white curls and pale green eyes, offset with delicate ivory skin.
“Me?” he asked stupidly.
“Gods above, are you always like this? Yes, you. You wanted to go to the bookstore, right?”
Gale nodded slowly. “Who - what -“
“My name is Astarion,” he said, giving Gale a sweeping bow. “And I couldn’t help but overhear your little problem. Lucky for you, I live here and know my way around - I can get you in and out of the bookstore and back to the tabernacle in the blink of an eye.” He grinned, tucking a curl behind a perfectly pointed ear - high elf, Gale thought to himself - before reaching out to grab the sleeve of Gale’s robe.
“I really should stay with my class -“
“Suit yourself,” said the elf, shrugging his narrow shoulders. “I was just trying to help you out.”
Gale stared at him; he couldn’t remember the last time someone his age had tried to help him.
“You can get me back in time?” he heard himself say.
“If you would stop talking and start moving, we would’ve already been on the second floor of the bookstore,” Astarion pointed out.
“I - yes. Okay,” Gale said. He normally was not one for impulsive decisions, but - there was something about this pale elf that made him want to trust him.
Astarion grabbed his hand - his fingers were soft and cool - and dragged him along the cobbled street, dodging a newspaper vendor and a man demonstrating various cantrips in front of a fountain on his way towards the door of Sorcerous Sundries.
“Where’re you from?” Astarion asked. “Clearly not here, given how bloody lost you look.”
“Waterdeep.”
“Hmm. I’ve never been there. Is it nice?”
Gale nodded. “Beautiful. I love it.”
Astarion nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll visit sometime.”
It suddenly occurred to Gale that Astarion should probably be in school - it was the middle of the day, after all.
“What’s your name?”
“Gale. Shouldn’t you be in school?” he asked curiously.
Astarion snorted. “Oh, darling. Why would I bother? I learn much more out here.”
Gale frowned, trying to work his brain around that logic, but before he was able to, Astarion pulled him in the grand front doors of Sorcerous Sundries. He stood there for just a moment, taking it all in; it was cool and quiet, and the scent of parchment and ink was thick in the air.
“It’s magnificent,” Gale whispered, fingers touching a nearby display. Astarion grabbed his hand, pulling it back.
“Careful, darling. They -“ he nodded at a nearby elemental, floating silently and judging their every move - “don’t like that.”
“Oh. Right,” muttered Gale. He wandered off towards the shelves, hoping to find a book about the Crown of Karsus; Mr. Aumar had mentioned it in class recently, and Gale was wildly curious about it.
Astarion bounced along behind him, peering and poking at the shelves despite the disapproving hums from the nearby elementals. “What’re you looking for? Poetry? I bet it’s poetry,” he said, wrinkling his nose.
“Actually, I wanted a book about -“
“It doesn’t matter. You find whatever. I’m going over here,” said Astarion, wandering in the direction of shelves that looked like honeycombs, loaded with scrolls.
Gale shrugged, continuing to the books, peering at the titles. Excitement thrummed through him; he’d never seen such a selection before. He pulled a book about the history of magical artifacts off the shelf, delicately flipping through it. Then one about Mystra, the goddess of magic. Then one about weave theory. Then -
Astarion reappeared at his shoulder. “We need to go,” he said urgently.
“But I -“
“Now,” hissed the elf, grabbing his elbow.
“But I -“
“If you want to get back to your class before they leave you here, you need to come now.”
The idea of being stranded in Baldur’s Gate was enough to make Gale shove the books hastily back on the shelf, his fingers lingering for a moment on one titled The Crown of Karsus : History and Fact. Astarion shoved him gently towards the door, and Gale sighed, complying.
Once outside, Astarion broke into fits of giggles. “Gods, you were perfect, darling,” he cooed.
“What?”
“They hate children in there, but they’re used to me, so they were watching you like a hawk. And that meant they weren’t watching me,” he said, giving Gale a wicked grin.
“I don’t understand -“
“I’m sure you don’t. Come on, now, we do have to hurry,” he said, linking his arm with Gale’s and pulling him along. Gale let himself be led down the bumpy roads by this strange little elf, letting his eyes take in all the details around him as he was dragged along.
“Right here,” Astarion declared, coming to a stop before a building made of shimmering white marble. Sure enough, Gale could see Mr. Aumar gathering everyone together inside. “Here, over here,” Astarion hissed, pulling him off to the side. “Wait until they come out, then join the back of the line like you never left.”
“Will that work?” Gale asked skeptically.
“It always works,” Astarion assured him.
“Are you sure?” Gale whispered, crouching down behind a crate with Astarion.
“Yes,” Astarion said, rolling his eyes.
“Okay,” Gale said doubtfully.
His class was starting to file out, and after a moment, Astarion gave him a nudge. “Go.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, dashing to join the back of the line. He turned, hoping for one more look at the elf that had shown him a shred of kindness - and he was already gone.
Gale slowly followed his class back to bus, slouching his way up the steps and curling back up against the window with a sigh. Then he pulled his satchel open, intending to eat the biscuit his mother had sent with him this morning - and his fingers collided instead with the firm spine of a book.
“What in the -“ He pulled his satchel open further, his jaw dropping when he saw The Crown of Karsus : History and Fact inside. He hadn’t actually bought it and just forgotten, had he??
He slowly pulled the book out, boggling at it, and carefully flipped it open. A single scrap of paper fell out, covered with a childish scrawl.
Thanks for being a lovely distraction, darling. This is your payment.
— Astarion
“Oh, hells,” Gale hissed under his breath as he realized he’d clearly been an accessory to a robbery. He should have known better -
As the bus started to pull away, a flash of silver curls on a nearby rooftop caught his eye.
Astarion was standing there, grinning, as he blew a kiss towards the bus.
Gale stared, stupefied - and then did the only logical thing he could come up with.
He blew a kiss back.
~~~***~~~***~~~
The second time Gale sees the elf, he’s twelve years old and drowning in a stairwell at Blackstaff University.
He’d been excited - truly, legitimately excited - about the special lectures being given today.
Several of the Seven Sisters were here; they were well-known for their magic and bravery throughout the realm. Storm Silverhand, a sorceress and Harper, brilliant and viciously protective of her people. The Simbul, the infamous Witch Queen of Aglarond - Gale had heard rumors she was once a lover of Mr. Aumar, but he wasn’t sure if there was any truth to it. And finally, Dove Falconhand; she was as talented with a sword as she was with the weave.
And they were here, now, in an overcrowded lecture hall at the University, giving a set of lectures and demonstrations to students who had shown promise, whether it was with the weave or with weapons. It had been by invite only, and Gale had nearly passed out with delight when the thick, cream colored envelope had arrived at his house.
He’d made it through the first part of The Simbul’s lecture about the infamous Red Wizards, a group that could incite terror in even the bravest souls. Gale had listened attentively, taking neat notes in a special book he’d bought especially for the day.
Everything had been fine, until he’d realized just how many people were crammed into the hall. Gale had been lucky enough to get a seat - but he’d gotten a seat near the middle of the row, an endless sea of bodies between him and the door. The aisles were clogged with even more bodies, sitting on the floor. There were students on the steps, standing in the doorways - and as Gale looked around, taking it all in, he felt the first twinges of panic begin to brew.
No no no - not now. NOT NOW.
He tried to ignore it.
He tried. He tried so gods-damned hard.
But once the buzz of panic had taken hold, it crept its way underneath his skin, setting every nerve on fire, making him feel twitchy and anxious.
He kept trying to ignore it.
Gale was vaguely aware that cold sweat was gathering at the nape of his neck, running in cool rivulets between his shoulder blades.
I have to get out of here -
He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. But -
The more he tried to ignore it, the worse it got. And the more he told himself to keep his arse in the seat, the more he wanted to run screaming.
His stomach lurched violently, and Gale was suddenly sure - absolutely sure - that he was going to vomit all over himself if he didn’t get out of here right now.
Gale stumbled his way down the row of seats, stepping on feet and cracking his knees against others, trying to mumble apologies as he went. Once he made it to the aisle, he had to weave in and out of the people sitting there, praying he wouldn’t trip and fall directly into someone’s lap. Or, even worse, fall into someone’s lap and then vomit all over them.
Oh, gods, I have to get OUT of here -
He finally made it to the doors of the lecture hall, shoving his way through the people clustered there - and then he was out.
Gale ran, anxiety knotting itself firmly in his chest, in his throat, making it feel like he couldn’t breathe. He finally made it to the door at the end of the hall, pushing it open and running down several flights of stairs until he was sitting at the door that led into the basement.
Then, and only then, did he let himself go to pieces.
Why are you even like this? Why can’t you just SIT there like a normal person? Nothing was going to happen to you. You’ve waited for MONTHS for this -
He was so involved in beating himself up that he somehow missed the fact that the door had opened several floors above him. By the time he realized someone else was in the stairwell, the footsteps had clattered down several flights of stairs, getting closer by the second.
Gale stood, tugging at the basement door desperately and not even surprised when it didn’t budge. Defeated, he slid down the wall, curling himself into a ball and awaiting whatever was coming for him. With his luck, it was probably Mr. Aumar coming to absolutely bawl him out for running away from such an important event.
“Gale?”
That wasn’t Mr. Aumar.
Gale’s head jerked up, and he stared in disbelief at the elf peering down the last flight of stairs at him.
“Astarion?”
“I thought that was you,” said Astarion, sauntering down the last few stairs and sitting on the bottom one.
“What are you doing here?” Gale said, unable to keep the accusation out of his voice as he hastily scrubbed tears off his face, hating the fact that Astarion, of all people, was witnessing him at his worst.
Astarion raised an eyebrow at him. “I was invited, of course.”
“You?”
“Gods, you don’t have to sound so bloody surprised,” Astarion snapped. “I’m a gods-damned high elf, if you somehow missed that little fact. Magic is in our blood.”
Chastised, Gale sat back, wrapping his arms around his knees and studying the boy in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he offered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m a little - I don’t - I hate crowds,” he finally admitted.
Astarion hummed thoughtfully, nodding. “I’m certainly not a fan of them either, especially not one packed that damn tight. It was making me feel a bit itchy too, to be honest.”
“Was it really?”
“No.”
They looked at each other for a moment before Gale snorted with laughter. Astarion grinned at him, stretching his legs out in front of him and chuckling along with him.
“Idiot,” Gale mumbled, extending a foot and tapping it against Astarion’s.
“Yes, but you’re at least smiling now, darling.”
Gale shook his head, still chuckling. “Thank you,” he said, tapping Astarion’s foot again.
“More importantly, you’re not an ungodly shade of green anymore. You were downright puce when you ran past me.”
Gale wrinkled his nose, sighing. “I’m sure. I was scared I was going to puke all over someone sitting in the aisles.”
“Thank gods I wasn’t sitting in the damned aisle, then.”
Gale managed a half-smile, shaking his head. “Why did you follow me?” he finally asked.
Astarion shrugged. “I - I don’t know,” he said, looking perplexed. “I recognized you when you ran past me, and I just - I felt like I should,” he finished. For the first time, he looked unsure, studying his nails intently.
Gale sighed, thumping his head back against the cement wall behind him. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you did.”
Astarion nodded, stretching his arms up above his head. “Do you want to go back?”
Gale hesitated, chewing on his lower lip uncertainly.
Astarion tilted his head, looking closely at him, before he asked, “Do you want to go back and sit with me?”
Gale looked up, meeting those pale green eyes, and he had the uncanny feeling that he was just…meant to follow this strange elf.
He swallowed hard before saying, “Yes. I’d - I’d like that very much.”
Astarion extended a hand to him, pulling him to his feet.
True to his word, he stayed.
And by the time he had to leave Gale to get on the bus with his own group, Gale already knew he would’ve followed him anywhere.
~~~***~~~***~~~
The third time Gale sees the elf, he’s fourteen years old and on a summer trip to Baldur’s Gate with his mother.
Morena Dekarios was soft and round with the same dark wavy hair as her son, with an easy smile and a warm personality. She talked constantly, about every and anything, and Gale loved her dearly.
Gale adored his mother, he truly did - but after nearly three straight days with her, he needed a break. And so, he had pleaded with her to let him go out by himself for a few hours; he wanted to wander through some of the shops, possibly buy a book or two, and have a cup of tea and a biscuit at one of the little cafés that populated the city.
That was exactly what he did; he could practically feel his mind clearing as shuffled along the streets, trying to avoid the crowds in the larger areas. He could smell the warm sugary scent of pastries wafting out of a nearby bakery, the sweet green scent of a floral shop, all with an underlying scent of something that Gale had decided was just the city itself. Something earthy, almost rusty, with a bit of spice and cedar to it. Downright pleasant, really.
He carefully avoided Sorcerous Sundries - part of him was absolutely sure he was on a banned poster inside the store - and went instead to a tiny stall staffed by an older tiefling woman, selling a wild array of books. After careful consideration, he chose a book discussing exotic monsters, handing over a fistful of gold and trying to resist burying his nose in the pages before he had a chance to sit down.
Gale forced himself to put the book in his satchel, looking around for a café that appealed to him. He made his way down one side road, then another, and finally got a whiff of something buttery and decadent, with a trace of cinnamon. He followed his nose, eventually locating a tiny stall selling cinnamon rolls, topped with a thick, sugary glaze.
Perfect. He paid the lovely elf woman working the stall, making his way to a nearby bench and sitting down with his treat and his book.
He had just started the page about hags when a voice said, “Gale?”
Gale jumped, looking up - and saw a thin, lithe elf with a beautiful, angular face, pale green eyes, and -
“Astarion??” he said incredulously.
“Why in the hells do we just keep finding each other?” Astarion exclaimed, plunking himself down on the bench next to him. “Gods. What are you doing here?”
“Vacation,” said Gale shortly. “You know, you probably got me banned from Sorcerous Sundries with that little move you pulled when we were kids.”
Astarion blinked at him in confusion for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. “Oh, right. Did you enjoy the book?”
“Well, yes -“
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that you stole a book!” Gale exclaimed, sputtering crumbs of cinnamon roll out in his rage. Astarion raised an eyebrow at him, leaning back to dodge the mess.
“Well, darling, you weren’t a witness to the crime,” the elf sniffed. “You saw nothing. You aren’t banned. Hells, I’m not even banned.”
“Are you sure?” Gale asked warily.
“Very.”
Gale eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he could believe anything this ridiculous elf said.
Astarion rolled his eyes, leaning back on the bench. “Gods. Believe me or don’t, I don’t care. But I was about to take a stroll over there myself, if you’d care to accompany me.”
“Do you promise to not steal anything this time?” Gale asked skeptically.
“Yes, yes, fine,” Astarion agreed, waving a hand dismissively. He reached over, tearing off a piece of Gale’s cinnamon roll and popping it in his mouth, ignoring Gale’s squawk of protest. “Oh, hells, that’s good,” he said, his mouth full. “C’mon, darling.” He got to his feet, extending a hand to Gale and pulling him to his feet.
Gale boggled at him, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fine,” he finally said. “But if the City Watch picks me up for prior crimes, I’m never going to forgive you.”
“I’m sure,” Astarion said, grinning. He pulled Gale down the road, their fingers tangling together. Gale glanced down, his heart hiccuping slightly when he realized Astarion hadn’t let go.
Oh.
Astarion apparently caught his little glance; he gave Gale a look that could only be described as devilish before letting his hand go, fingers teasing along the palm of his hand. Gale swallowed hard, a jolt of - hells, he wasn’t even sure what this ridiculous elf was doing to him - something rippling down his spine.
Gale really had to wonder, as they made their way down the darkening streets, what paths his life had had to follow to encounter this elf again. Baldur’s Gate was a large city, and yet, every time he’d set foot in it, he’d somehow found Astarion. And when Astarion had been in Waterdeep - they found each other there, too. He’d never forgotten about Astarion - the book he’d given - well, stolen for him - had been read so many times it was falling apart.
He even still had the note, carefully folded up and in a wooden box of keepsakes on his desk.
Gale also had never forgotten Astarion’s kindness that day at Blackstaff University, the way he’d followed him, the way he’d made him laugh. The way he’d kept his word, sitting with him until he’d absolutely had to leave. He glanced over at Astarion, wondering if he should mention it, but Sorcerous Sundries was in sight. They strolled inside, peering at the displays of new books. Astarion picked one up, flipping through it curiously.
“Poetry?” Gale asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Mmm-hmm,” Astarion responded, absorbed in the poem on the page.
“Just funny. You joked I had to be looking for poetry books last time. And it turns out you were the secret poetry addict the whole time,” Gale concluded, smiling.
Astarion had the good grace to blush; he finally just shrugged. “Guilty,” he said.
Gale peered over his shoulder, trying to see the poem he was reading, but Astarion pulled back. “Find your own poems,” he said, poking Gale in the ribs.
“Right, right,” Gale conceded, wandering off to another display.
Fifteen minutes late, a magically amplified voice boomed that the store was about to close. Gale hurriedly pressed a handful of books back on the shelf, carrying two towards the counter to pay. Astarion joined him, peering over his shoulder. “What did you find?”
Gale tilted the books at him - Curse of the Vampyre and The Tales of Balduran.
“Well, that’s certainly rather opposite choices,” Astarion mused. “Interesting.”
“I don’t have anything else like them,” Gale explained, paying the haughty tiefling man at the counter and following Astarion outside into the crisp evening air.
“I probably need to head back,” Gale said, sighing. “I told my mother I wouldn’t be long.”
Astarion chewed on his lower lip, giving him a contemplative look. “Can I show you something first?” he asked.
“Will it take long?”
Astarion shook his head, taking his hand again and causing another thrill of excitement to dance down Gale’s spine. He pulled him down a seedy looking alley, then another, and one more - Gale could smell fish and salt, and had to assume they were heading towards the pier.
“Where, exactly, are you taking me?” he asked skeptically.
“Only my favorite place in the city,” Astarion sniffed.
His favorite? Well, Gale wasn’t sure how he was supposed to turn something like that down. He finally nodded in agreement, watching as Astarion’s beautiful face broke into a smile.
Less than a minute later, Gale found himself truly wondering about his life choices as Astarion came to a stop by a nondescript door in an alley and pulled a set of metal pick-like objects out of his pocket.
“Keep an eye out for me, would you, darling?” Astarion said, already attacking the lock with the picks.
“Are you - Astarion - “
“Shhhh, darling. Keep an eye out that way, this will only take a second -“
“But you’re -“
“Picking the lock. Yes, darling. I know. I do this daily.” As if it heard him, the lock made a clicking noise, and Astarion shoved the door open, hauling Gale inside a dim room. He started up the nearby stairs, gazing down at Gale, who was just staring at him with his mouth hanging open. “Well, are you coming?”
“I -“ Gale had half a mind to turn around and walk out, but Astarion’s pale green gaze was like a magnet, drawing him in whether he wanted it or not. He shut his mouth, following the elf up multiple flights of stairs.
“What are we doing?” Gale asked, exasperated and slightly out of breath. “And why do I always seem to witness some sort of crime whenever I’m with you?”
“We’re doing this,” said Astarion, shoving a door open and stepping out. Gale could smell fresh air and see the silver glow of moonlight, and he followed curiously. Astarion paused, leaning back to say, “And it’s only a crime if you get caught, love.”
“Oh,” said Gale softly, his eyes widening and Astarion’s misdeeds forgotten as he stepped outside.
They were on a rooftop, wide and flat in the center with sloping brick red tiles extending down. Gale frowned for a moment before he realized - this was the same rooftop Astarion had blown him a kiss from all those years ago.
“Wait, I recognize -“ Gale started to say, but he was cut off by Astarion pushing him back against the wall next to the door they’d come out of, those pale eyes studying him closely before he ducked his head, slanting his mouth against Gale’s.
Oh oh oh shit -
Gale was shocked to find that some part of him seemed to instinctively know what to do; one of his hands had found its way into Astarion’s curls, even as his lips parted when Astarion’s tongue traced along the seam of his mouth. Astarion’s tongue made its way into his mouth, brushing against his own, and the jolt of excitement down his spine was back, pooling in his lower belly and - oh shit -
Right. Arousal. Pure arousal. That’s what that jolt had been. Hells.
Astarion chuckled against his lips, leaning the length of his body against him and making Gale suck in his breath sharply at the feel of his slight weight pressing fully into him. “New to this, darling?” he asked, bending and nipping lightly at Gale’s neck.
“Um. Yes. Very. Um -“ Gale stammered.
Astarion drew back, mischief bright in his eyes as he regarded Gale. “Darling. Don’t tell me that was your first kiss,” he crooned.
Gale’s face was on fire as he nodded, causing Astarion to grin widely.
“Well. I’ll be gentle then,” Astarion told him before diving back in, lips soft and demanding against his own.
Oh, hells. How do I - what am I supposed -
Astarion sucked on his lower lip lightly before murmuring, “Stop thinking.”
“I wasn’t -“ Gale started to protest. Then he stopped, staring at this beautiful, beguiling elf, and leaned down, kissing the pale column of Astarion’s throat, a thrill ripping through him when it pulled a soft moan out of the elf.
“See? Much better,” Astarion said, before attacking his mouth enthusiastically again.
Gale lost track of how long they stood there, pressed together, lips parting and exploring, hands roaming up and down backs, into hair, along arms. Gale finally pulled away, near-panting and so hard he could barely even think at this point, leaning his forehead against Astarion’s shoulder with an embarrassed chuckle.
“Probably a good call.” Astarion was also out of breath against him, letting his own head fall forward to rest against the brick wall behind Gale.
“A very good call,” Gale managed to get out.
And then they were both giggling helplessly against each other, Astarion finally pulling away from him with a sigh. “You still live in Waterdeep, I assume?” he asked.
Gale nodded.
“Well, shit.”
They exchanged a look, and both broke into giggles again before Astarion took his hand and led him back down the stairs. Astarion laced his fingers with Gale’s, wandering along beside him as they made their way back to the tavern Gale was staying in.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Gale told him with a sigh.
“Well. Upper City, if you’re ever back in town,” Astarion told him, leaning in to kiss him. “Wyrm’s Rest Road, dark blue house.”
One more kiss, and he was gone.
~~~***~~~***~~~
The fourth time Gale sees the elf, he’s nineteen and freshly graduated from high school.
He’d decided to take a trip to Baldur’s Gate for a few days after graduation by himself; he’d told himself he wanted to do some shopping for specialty books and nicer robes before he started at Blackstaff University.
In reality, he knew some part of him was hoping to see Astarion again.
His memories of the pale elf had fueled many a late-night fantasy over the years; he’d never been able to really forget about him.
He had been his first kiss, after all.
Gale had arrived in Baldur’s Gate and gotten a room tucked into a corner of the Elfsong Tavern. It was small and cozy, with an almost too soft bed piled high with handmade quilts. He settled in, unpacking his battered suitcase and peering out the window at the city. It was nearly sunset, and he wondered if he’d be able to find Astarion’s house before it got fully dark.
He took a minute to run a brush through his hair and looked himself over; he thought he looked respectable. Black linen pants, a dark purple shirt with golden details on the collar, black boots. He tugged the shirt down, nodding in approval and escaping out the door before he talked himself out of this.
A quick conversation with the innkeeper had Gale confident he could at least find his way into the Upper City; he made his way outside and strolled down the road, enjoying the sights and smells of the city. He had to remind himself that Sorcerous Sundries would still be there tomorrow, and finding Astarion should be his first priority.
The sweet scent of flowers tickled Gale’s nose, and he glanced over to see a stall run by a tiny gnome woman with pink hair, tables piled high with exotic flowers.
He bought a single rose, his nerves jangling sharply as he handed over a gold piece.
Gale found his way into the Upper City without any trouble; there was an imposing wall splitting the Upper and Lower parts of the city, with arched gateways to pass in between. He’d written down what Astarion had told him five years ago, and he anxiously worried a battered piece of paper between his fingers as he walked, compulsively reading and re-reading it, as if he thought the words on it would change from one look to the next.
Wyrm’s Rest Road. Dark blue house.
A city guard was happy to direct him to the road, clearly marked by a sign with gold edges and flowing script. He took a deep breath, strolling down the road like he belonged there and searching for the dark blue house.
“Holy shit,” Gale muttered, gawking at the - well, calling it a house was an understatement. It was huge; three stories, with several turreted towers extending up into the sky near the back, with glittering windows and an entire brilliant garden winding around the front porch. Gale glanced down at the rose in his hands, feeling somewhat ridiculous, but he’d come this far; he wasn’t giving up now.
He slowly walked up the front path, smooth paving stones clicking underneath his boots before he climbed the few steps onto the wide, wraparound porch. Gale raised a hand to knock and froze; anxiety was crawling up his throat and nestling into his chest like an unwanted visitor.
“What am I even doing?” he mumbled, hand frozen in the air in front of the door.
He lowered his hand, panic rippling through him. This was ridiculous; it had been five years. He had absolutely no reason to think Astarion would want to see him, even if every path in his life that had brought him through Baldur’s Gate had also led him to Astarion. Gale felt like he was trying to pull himself through his own head in some tangled, confused line, with Astarion waiting at the end.
He leaned forward, thumping his head against the smooth, pale blond wood of the door, exasperated with himself. He was being ridiculous, he knew it - there was no possible way that Astarion -
The door suddenly swung open, and Gale jumped back with an undignified shriek, nearly falling down the stairs.
“Gale?”
Gale leaned heavily against one of the columns at the top of the stairs, gasping for breath. He looked up, a wobbly smile on his face as he wiggled his fingers in greeting.
“Hi,” he choked out.
Astarion was framed in the doorway, gaping at him.
The last five years had been good to him; he’d always been beautiful, but he’d grown into the sharp angles of his face. His hair was a bit longer, with soft, silvery-white curls framing his face. He was still quite pale, but his eyes were still the light green that Gale remembered; the color of fresh lettuce, perhaps, with a darker green ring around the iris. He was wearing a ruffled white shirt and a pair of tight leather pants, laced up from crotch to waist, the sight pulling all the air out of Gale’s lungs.
Astarion stepped forward, pulling him into a hug. “Hello, darling,” he said, squeezing him softly. “Is that for me?” he asked, indicating the rose hanging limply from Gale’s fingers.
“Oh. Yes. Of course. Here - hi. Gods. You look wonderful. I’m sorry I just showed up, but I didn’t - I can go if it’s not a good time. You look amazing, did I say that already? I just - I wanted to come to the city after I graduated and do some shopping and I thought - well. I’d written down -“
“Gale,” Astarion said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement.
“ - I’d written down what you’d said, and I know this makes me look like a total stalker but I never forgot about you and I wanted to -“
Gale’s ramblings were cut off by Astarion’s lips capturing his, his arms winding around Gale’s neck and the petals of the rose tickling at his ear.
“Gale, darling,” Astarion said, in between kisses. “I am very -“ kiss, nibble - “happy to -“ more kisses, sucking on his lower lip - “ - see you,” he finished, his tongue licking into Gale’s willing mouth. “Are you here alone?” he whispered, his lips against Gale’s ear.
“Yes,” Gale whispered back, fingers tangling in Astarion’s silver curls.
“Can we go to dinner and then go back to your room?” Astarion asked, licking the shell of Gale’s ear and making him shiver.
“Gods, yes,” Gale answered, his fingers tightening in Astarion’s hair.
“Can you give me two minutes to go find my bag?”
“Absolutely,” Gale said. Astarion reluctantly let go of him, ducking back into the house and reappearing a minute later with a leather messenger back over his shoulder. He stepped right back into Gale’s arms like he belonged there and picked up where he’d left off.
“Can we spend more than an hour together this time?”
“My time is yours,” Gale breathed, sliding a hand into Astarion’s hair to tilt his head at a more favorable angle so he could kiss him again.
“Fuck,” said Astarion unsteadily. “Maybe we’ll skip dinner,” he said, his voice low. “I’ve dreamed about you fucking me for years.”
“Gods, Astarion,” Gale gasped, the words shooting straight to his cock and making him throb in his pants.
“What, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about it?” Astarion teased, running a single pale finger down the length of Gale’s arm.
Oh, he’d thought about it, all right. He’d thought about it a lot.
“That’s what I thought,” Astarion said smugly. He took Gale’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Lead on, love,” he said softly, smiling.
~~~***~~~***~~~
They skipped going out to dinner.
Gale did stop at the bar downstairs, ordering some food for them to take upstairs. Astarion was holding his arm, pressed against his side tightly. Before long, Gale was armed with a picnic basket of food, and he led Astarion upstairs, letting them into his room while his heart pounded in his ears.
Astarion sat down at the tiny table in the corner, pulling food out of the basket. “Well, this is a lovely spread,” he commented. “Cheese, bread, fruit, grilled chicken - this looks delicious,” he said, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth.
Gale joined him, helping himself to a drumstick and taking a bite.
“Delicious,” he agreed.
Astarion eyed him, picking up another cube of cheese and feeding it to Gale, making sure his fingers brushed against Gale’s lips.
Oh.
Gale smiled at him, selecting a strawberry from the bowl of fruit and offering it to Astarion, who gave him a wicked grin, biting into it and then licking the juice from Gale’s fingers.
Oh, fuck.
They traded bites back and forth for a few minutes; Gale could practically feel it building between them, pure lust thick in the air between them. He wasn’t sure what it was about this damned elf, but it felt like every path he’d taken in his life eventually ended up at Astarion.
Inevitable. As if Astarion was the solution to the puzzle that was his life.
It was Astarion who gave up on the food first, pushing his chair back and crawling into Gale’s lap, lips hot and demanding against his. Gale moaned into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of strawberries and the tang of cheddar cheese on Astarion’s tongue as he licked into his mouth eagerly.
“Bed,” Astarion panted, licking a slow stripe up the side of Gale’s neck and making him pull in a sharp breath. “Now.”
Gale didn’t need to be told twice; he got to his feet, taking Astarion with him, and dragged them in the direction of the bed. He sank down on the bed, looking up at Astarion uncertainly; the elf didn’t hesitate before pushing him back onto the bed and pouncing on top of him.
Astarion’s hands were everywhere, it seemed; stroking through Gale’s hair, running up and down his arms, delving underneath the hem of his shirt to explore the thick hair on his chest with a satisfied groan. He sat up, pulling his ruffled shirt over his head and throwing it onto the floor, revealing a pale, hairless, but well-defined chest. He tugged at Gale’s shirt, and Gale obliged, sitting up and tossing it off the bed.
Astarion sat back, straddling Gale’s hips, and looking at him with what could only be described as pure lust as he ran his hands through the hair on Gale’s chest. He dropped back down on top of him, nibbling and sucking at the skin of Gale’s neck, nipping at the tender skin of his collarbone and making his hips cant upwards subconsciously.
“Ohhh,” Astarion murmured, nipping him again. “Like that, hmm?”
“Hells, Astarion -'' Gale gripped his hips, rutting up against him, his throbbing cock grinding against Astarion’s own firm length.
Astarion gasped at the sensation, rolling his hips down a bit harder, pulling a sharp moan from Gale’s throat. “Fucking hells, Gale,” he said, his voice unsteady.
“I want you,” Gale gasped, rubbing upwards against him again, praying to whatever gods that might possibly listen to him that he wouldn’t come in his pants; it was feeling like a very real possibility right now.
That seemed to be all the encouragement Astarion needed before he slid off Gale, quickly unlacing those maddening leather pants and shimmying them down his legs, leaving him in a pair of aqua briefs that were barely containing his erection. On the bed, Gale was struggling with his own pants; Astarion moved to help him, revealing Gale’s purple boxers, complete with a wet spot where he’d been leaking furiously.
Reality was starting to settle back in, and Gale bit his lip, looking up at Astarion, who was looking like some sort of ethereal being above him, what with the silver hair glowing like a halo around him and his unblemished, pearl-like skin. Gale glanced down at himself, at his ruddy olive skin and the thick layer of hair that covered his body, giving Astarion an self-conscious look.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Astarion asked, unceremoniously stripping off his briefs, revealing an absolutely beautiful cock; the tip was flushed a deep red, precum leaking from his slit as Astarion gave himself a slow stroke before dropping back into bed next to him.
“I’ve - um. Never -“ Gale couldn’t get the words out; he didn’t want to tell this utterly beautiful man he’d dreamed about for years that he was a bloody virgin.
“Oh,” said Astarion, resting his chin on Gale’s chest. Much to Gale’s relief, he didn’t look bothered in the slightest; he just traced his fingers through the thatch of hair on his chest. “Don’t worry about that, love. I know what I’m doing, and I promise to take good care of you,” he murmured softly, leaning up to press a kiss to Gale’s lips.
Gale heaved out a sigh of relief, nodding. “I mean, I’ve - I’ve read about it, I know how things work in theory, but -“
“Gale. It’s fine,” Astarion repeated, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing him again, slow and sweet. Against his lips, he asked, “How do you want this?”
“I - um - fuck -“ Gale stammered. “I haven’t - well. Either. I’ve thought about both,” he admitted, his face burning.
Astarion sat up, leaning back on his heels. “Well, then how about you get rid of those -“ he indicated Gale’s boxers - “ - and I’ll find the lube in my bag.”
“I - okay,” Gale squeaked as Astarion gracefully slid out of bed, going to the leather bag he’d brought along and rummaging inside.
By the time Astarion triumphantly drew out a small plastic bottle, Gale had summoned his courage and pulled his boxers off; his cock lay against his stomach, painfully hard and leaking over him. Astarion glanced over, his eyes widening.
“You didn’t tell me you had that,” Astarion said, staring at his cock.
Gale’s face burned; he’d always thought he had a nice cock, thicker than average, but having it confirmed by the man he was about to be deflowered by was a good feeling.
Astarion sank down on the bed, crawling up between his legs and mouthing at his balls for a moment before slowly running his tongue up Gale’s length, causing him to gasp and grip at the sheets.
“Ah - Astarion -“ he yelped. “Fuck,” he finally spit out.
“Yes, darling, we’re getting there,” Astarion teased him, giving the tip of his cock a tiny lick, eyes closing as he savored the taste of the precum dripping from his slit. “Delicious,” he added, giving the head of Gale’s cock a few more licks, making his hips arch up with a moan.
“Astarion -“
Thankfully, Astarion stopped, working his way back up Gale’s body and kissing him, letting Gale taste himself on Astarion’s tongue.
Fucking hells, I’m going to come before we even -
And then Astarion chose that moment to roll his hips down against Gale, their cocks sliding together, aided by the saliva he’d left behind - and Gale was done for, gasping and gripping Astarion’s shoulders as his body trembled.
For a moment, all he could concentrate on was how good it felt to feel Astarion throbbing against him, the smooth slide of his cock against his own - and then reality set in, and Gale muttered, “Shit.”
Astarion buried his face in his neck, sucking at the tender skin there before saying, “No, this is good. Now you won’t come the second you’re inside me.”
“Fuck, Astarion -“ Gale gasped, even as his cock immediately twitched with interest at that statement. Astarion chuckled against him, pressing kisses everywhere on his face, eventually managing to hit his lips.
“Really, love. It’s fine,” he murmured. He held up the bottle of lube, arching an eyebrow at him. “Want to help me?”
Just like that, he was hard again; his cock was clearly quite interested in this idea.
“Show me what to do,” he said softly, brushing a renegade curl out of Astarion’s face.
Astarion’s face was flushed, the tips of his ears pinker than usual as he rolled out of bed, taking a few steps to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean up the mess Gale had made before setting the towel on the end of the bed. “We’re going to need that,” he said matter-of-factly, making Gale blush yet again.
Gale watched, transfixed, as Astarion drizzled a generous amount of lube on his fingers before laying back with one leg drawn up next to him. He circled his entrance a few times, fingertips teasing at his hole before he slowly sunk a finger inside himself with a groan. Then another, carefully spreading and scissoring his fingers, stretching himself open as Gale just stared at the enticing sight of his delicate fingers plunging deep inside himself, pulling raw groans from his throat.
“Holy shit,” muttered Gale; he couldn’t believe he was here, watching this beautiful man do this. For him.
“Come here, love,” Astarion said, his voice breathy. “Hand,” he instructed, drizzling lube on his fingers when Gale held a trembling hand out. “Your turn,” he told Gale, withdrawing his fingers from himself, his hole twitching and clenching at the loss.
“Are - are you - I don’t know -“
Astarion reached down, catching his hand and guiding it between his legs. “I trust you,” he said, his voice low and raw. “I don’t know why, but I do. It’s okay.” He pressed Gale’s fingers against himself, his breath catching slightly as Gale bolstered his courage and sank a single finger in.
“Just like that,” Astarion encouraged him. “Another finger, and if you press -“
This part, Gale knew - he’d experimented with himself enough over the years to know where a prostate was and what to do with it. He stroked his fingers slowly along the warm, tight skin deep inside Astarion, finally landing on the bundle of nerves and pressing on it gently.
“Oh, fuck -“ Astarion’s body arched up into his, a hand grabbing at his shoulder. “You know what you’re doing,” he gasped. “Just - do that - fucking hells, Gale!” Gale had lowered his head, taking that gorgeous cock into his mouth, tasting the saltiness of his slit, letting the weight of Astarion fill his mouth.
“Gods,” Astarion groaned, a hand wandering down to toy with Gale’s hair, delicately tucking dark strands behind his ears so he had a better view of what, exactly, Gale was doing to him. “So good,” he continued, his hips bucking up slightly as Gale continued exploring him.
In this, at least, Gale wasn’t completely inexperienced; he’d absolutely spent some interesting nights working out the intricacies of giving blowjobs with a willing boy or two in high school. And, quite frankly, he’d always thoroughly enjoyed the act. He glanced up, letting his eyes meet Astarion’s, before he swallowed him down, pulling a string of curses from the elf. Then again, nose buried against the soft skin of Astarion’s stomach, tongue working the underside of his cock methodically.
“Stop, stop -” Astarion gasped, pulling back.
Gale let him go immediately, looking up in alarm and wondering what he’d done wrong. It had been awhile, after all, and everyone did like different things -
Astarion smoothed his hair back gently, tugging him up on top of him as he explained, “Darling, if you had kept doing that, the fun was going to be over much too soon for my liking.”
“Oh,” Gale managed, his breath catching as Astarion curved a leg up over his hip, leaning up to nip at his earlobe.
“Gale, love, I would very much like you to fuck me,” Astarion whispered, a hand tracing down the knobs of Gale’s spine and coming to rest on his lower back.
For once, Gale couldn’t think of anything to say; he settled for leaning down to kiss Astarion, as softly and sweetly as he knew how before he shuffled himself into place. Astarion nodded at him in encouragement, a heel digging insistently into Gale’s thigh.
He took a deep breath and pressed forward cautiously, stars exploding across his vision as he slowly sank into the man writhing underneath him. Slow, slow, he reminded himself; the last thing he wanted to do was possibly hurt Astarion.
“Oh, hells,” gasped Astarion, the heel that had been pressing into Gale’s thigh moving to hook around his waist. “That - fuck, Gale, you feel good,” he panted.
Gale balanced himself on a forearm above Astarion, buried deeper inside him than he would’ve thought possible. Astarion was hot and slick around him, impossibly tight, and as Gale felt himself bottom out, Astarion’s head fell back with a moan. Gale was, suddenly, incredibly glad he’d come without much warning earlier, because if he hadn’t, he would’ve been done the second he heard that moan; it was, without a doubt, the most erotic thing he’d ever heard in his life.
“Good?” Gale gasped.
“Gods, yes,” Astarion told him, fingers gripping Gale’s shoulders firmly. He rolled his hips upwards ever so slightly, and Gale scrambled to get a grip on something - anything - to ground himself within the sensations engulfing him. He knotted the blankets in his fist, his other hand moving to lightly cup Astarion’s cheek.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, before leaning down to kiss Astarion.
Something in Astarion’s eyes softened, and he held the back of Gale’s head with one hand, pulling him in for a deep kiss. That done, he peered up at Gale and said, “Love, as delicious at this feels, if you don’t start moving, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”
Gale snorted with laughter, tipping down to rest his forehead against Astarion’s. “We can’t have that,” he teased, shifting his hips ever so slightly and causing lightning to rip up his spine at the sensation. That had felt so good he rolled his hips forward, then back, slowly sliding in, out -
“Holy shit,” Gale said, overwhelmed.
It was Astarion’s turn to laugh, tangling his fingers in Gale’s hair. “Exactly. Now shut up and fuck me already.”
Who was he to argue? He sought out Astarion’s mouth, tongues mingling and teasing, and started to move.
Instantly, it was just too much in so many little ways that Gale wasn’t even sure what to do. He was grateful for Astarion’s gentle encouragement and murmurs, spurring him on, even as the heat building between them spiraled into near-uncontrollable levels.
Gale was trying to focus, to remember every little bit of this; he concentrated on the feeling of Astarion wrapped around him, on the tight heat gripping his cock, on the choked whimpers and moans he was pulling from Astarion’s throat with every movement of his hips. He was close, much too close, and he reached between them, gripping Astarion’s cock and giving it an experimental stroke.
In response, he felt Astarion clench around him, hard - and the stars were back in his field of vision, everything blurring into a field of static as the sensations drowned him. He thrust into Astarion again, again, again, his hand moving in rhythm with his body, and Astarion let out a howl, his hips bucking up as he came, streaks of come painting his abdomen. The twitching and clenching inside sent Gale over the edge a moment later, spilling himself in the delicious heat that was Astarion.
“Oh my Gods,” Gale managed to get out, panting above Astarion. He gingerly pulled out of him, collapsing next to Astarion with a satisfied groan.
Astarion chuckled, rolling to grab the towel from earlier and mopping himself off before turning towards Gale, fingertips tracing down his arm.
“I have to say, darling, I never expected this when I stole that book for you all those years ago,” Astarion mused, leaning in to kiss him lightly.
Gale snorted, running his fingers gently through Astarion’s curls. “I wasn’t expecting this when I knocked on your door tonight, for the record.”
“What were you expecting?” Astarion asked curiously.
Gale shrugged. “I was going to ask if I could take you to dinner.”
“I would’ve said yes.”
“Good to know,” Gale said, wrapping a loose curl around his finger and letting it spring away in a perfect spiral.
“Turns out you didn’t even need to buy me dinner.”
“I would have.”
“I know.”
Gale smiled at him, still toying with his curls. “It’s funny, you know,” he mused. “I feel like I’ve known you my entire life, the way your life just seems to intersect with mine when I need it the most. And yet, I don’t really know anything about you,” he realized. “How did this even happen?”
Astarion rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Life works in mysterious ways sometimes, I suppose.” He glanced over at Gale, looking hesitant, before he said, “My life always seems to intersect with yours when I’ve been feeling particularly lost. It’s like you’re…some sort of solution to whatever puzzle my life has been throwing at me.”
“Meant to be, I guess,” Gale said thoughtfully. He rolled onto his back as well, studying the rough wood of the ceiling. Astarion reached out, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together as they laid there in the fading light.
“What are you going to do with yourself?” Astarion asked.
“Blackstaff University,” Gale told him. “Studying the weave.”
Astarion gave him a soft smile. “That suits you. I could see you as Gale, the great wizard of Waterdeep,” he teased, squeezing his hand.
“What about you?” Gale asked.
Astarion made a face, wrinkling his nose in a rather adorable fashion. “I’m…not sure,” he said cryptically. “I have options.”
Gale waited, but when no further information came, he let it go.
“Well,” Gale finally said, rolling towards Astarion again - I want to look at him as much as I can - “I suppose we can write occasionally. And I’m sure my studies will land me back here from time to time.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, darling,” said Astarion, a trace of bitterness in his voice.
Gale opened his mouth, then stopped, frowning. He had certainly meant it, but -
Oh.
He looked into Astarion’s eyes, that pale green really only seen in elves, and nodded, leaning in to kiss him.
And even Gale couldn’t miss the relief that came over Astarion’s face as he nodded and kissed him back.