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Since moving into Gale’s Tower, Astarion has slowly begun to explore who he is beyond the creature stalking the shadows, crushed beneath his now deceased masters' heel.
And Gale, wonderful, patient Gale, is more than happy to help him in any way he can. The man has provided him with love that he is gradually coming to believe he deserves, space when he needs it, comfort when his memories come back to haunt him, and all the blood a vampire could drink.
One way in which Gale had provided him the opportunity to discover himself was through the gift of a space of his own; one of the spare rooms in his magically expanding tower. Gale promised never to enter without the elf’s invitation, allowing Astarion the privacy and freedom to express himself and experiment in ways he never could have dreamed of under Cazador, one of which has been through his clothing.
Hidden away in the room he has transformed into his workshop, he has a couple of mannequins draped in outfits in various states of completion, and tables covered with notebooks filled with ideas and swatches of fabric. Bolts of material cover the largest one by the bay window, pattern pieces laid out on the colourful cloth.
Most items are for him, though he has made a few outfits for his partner. Robes for fancy events, pyjamas for humid nights, and a few pieces of everyday casual wear.
Then there are the garments he keeps hidden away from the eyes of curious wizards and cheeky tressym.
Elegant flowing dresses with plunging necklines and skirts slit all the way up to his hips.
Shirts made of delicate fabrics that are translucent in the right light, providing teasing glimpses of his firmly toned pecs and rosy nipples.
Panties of lace and silk that cradle his cock snugly and make his ass pop.
All of them make him feel good, make him feel pretty, sexy and confident, empowered.
Today he’s trying on his latest creation, a black, knee length pleated A-line skirt with a deep red material making up the inside of the pleats, peeking out whenever he walks. A blood red corset cinches his waist, and a dark grey flowing shirt draws the observer’s eye to his chest. Black high heels with ribbon crisscrossing up his legs really accentuate his ass.
He knows he looks good thanks to the enchanted mirror Gale made for him as a ‘welcome to your new home’ present. Astarion had nearly cried when Gale had shown him his reflection for the first time, in a way that wasn’t a conjuration of the weave. The two men had stayed in front of it for hours as the vampire watched the reflective surface for every one of their reactions.
He’s in front of it now, sitting upon a footstool as he practices another of his hobbies.
Shadowheart had been more than happy to show him how to enhance his natural beauty with makeup, giving him tips on how to make his red eyes really pop with sharp eyeliner and blush that brightens his undead pallour.
Astarion puckers his lips as he applies a bright red stain to them, smiling to himself in the mirror when it completes his look.
He stands up, flicking his wrist to magically move the stool out of the way so he can pose in front of the mirror.
“Damn” the elf mumbles to himself as he turns to look over his shoulder, “I look hot”.
And fuck does he look hot. The heels make his butt perkier, and the corset gives him the illusion of curves.
‘Gale is going to lose his mind when he sees this,’ Astarion thinks with a smirk, moving away from the mirror to start rummaging through his secret second jewelry box. Perhaps the double ruby pendant he had ‘acquired’ from one of Gale’s nastier colleagues would work-
“My love! I’m home!” comes a familiar voice from down below, magically enhanced to be heard through multiple floors.
Astarion jumps, surprised to have lost track of time so completely that his partner is already home from teaching at the University.
When he looks up at the clock on the wall he’s confused to find that his wizard is home far earlier than he should be. By a couple of hours in fact!
“Everyone was sent home early thanks to some second years setting off enough stink-smoke bombs to make an Ogre retch” Gale explains from several floors below, “So I thought I would take the rest of the day off and spend it with my favourite vampire.”
Astarion’s heart swells even as his eyes roll at his lover’s sweet remark. He should be used to them by now.
He can imagine what Gale is currently doing downstairs. Hanging up his cloak, shucking off his boots and taking off his, most likely stink-infused, teaching robes.
Soon he’ll head upstairs, and towards Astarion’s workroom.
Astarion knows Gale won't enter his studio unless he calls him in; knows he could change into his favourite set of loungewear and meet Gale in the library. There they could spend the rest of the day reading, curled up together on one of the fancy chairs that Gale tries to tell him will only fit one of them, but somehow they find room for them both.
He could keep this secret of his a little while longer, but…
Gale won’t judge him, and he does want to see what the man’s reaction to his outfit will be…
So he sits down by his dressing table, spinning the chair around so that it faces the door, and calls out “Come in darling! I have a surprise for you!”. He adjusts his skirt and the opening of his shirt, making sure they lay perfectly.
“I was thinking that maybe we could eat an early dinner out on the balcony, since it’s going to be such a fine evening” Gale suggests as the door begins to open, “Then perhaps we can read the rest of that romance novel you got me for-”
The words cut off with a sputtered, choking gasp, Gale’s eyes widening until they nearly pop out of his skull as he sees the elf posing on the other side of the room.
He stands in the doorway, open mouthed and clutching at the door handle with a vice-like grip.
Astarion smirks when he sees how the mage’s eyes follow the movement of his legs as he stretches out like a tressym in a sunbeam.
“Star” Gale groans after nearly a full minute of silent staring, his free hand shooting out to shakily grasp the doorjamb to keep himself upright, “I fear that if I do not ravish you the way you deserve right now I will surely perish.”
Astarion can’t help but grin, showing off his fangs, and purrs out "Well far be it for me to deny you my love, though I will admit I did expect a more enthusiastic react-FUCK”
He was expecting Gale to rush over, pin him to the chair and kiss him senseless.
Instead, the wizard is suddenly kneeling between his legs, head disappearing up his skirt as he begins to mouth at his cock through his lacy underwear.
Astarion's thighs instinctively close, pinning Gale so his face is thrust into the vampire’s crotch, and his hands shoot out to grab the arms of his chair in a white-knuckled grip. Gale lets out a low moan, and Astarion’s head snaps back as it vibrates through the thin fabric into his rapidly swelling cock.
The fact that he can't see what Gale is doing beneath his skirt, or what he's going to do next, just makes this even hotter.
They have experimented with blindfolds during their lovemaking, but so far only Gale has been willing to wear them. Astarion has too many bad memories after what he endured under his deceased master to give it a try, but now thinks he may have been too hasty in rejecting the idea completely.
His legs begin to shake, his ears flushing from the teasing, and despite knowing that Gale rarely allows him to rush him when he’s worshipping him, he forces out “G-Ga-le, P-please-AH”
Suddenly, the barrier keeping Gale from taking him into his mouth is gone, the elf's red panties settling onto his dressing table with a soft scroop.
Astarion's cock slips into Gale’s throat, right down to the root, and Astarion’s eyes roll back in their sockets.
All it takes is a single hard suck from Gale’s wickedly talented mouth and Astarion is coming down the mage’s throat, his scream of ecstasy echoing throughout his workshop.
Astarion is left panting, his hands and thighs shaking as he recovers from his unexpected and embarrassingly quick orgasm.
Back when Astarion had felt comfortable enough to sleep with Gale for pleasure rather than manipulation, he was shocked and amazed at how quickly the apparently strait-laced mage could get him to cum. How fantastic he could make him feel with his lips, fingers, tongue and cock.
Now he could not be more thankful for elven and vampiric stamina, and the mage’s enthusiasm for bringing them both as much ecstasy as he is physically and magically able to.
This isn’t to say that Astarion doesn’t enjoy being the one in charge of their pleasure whenever he gets the itch. It’s simply that after two hundred years of pain and torment, he delights in being able to lean back and give himself over to the only person who has ever truly cared for him for more than his beauty, his body, and his ability to seduce and kill.
Gale comes out from under the skirt, licking his lips and pressing kisses to the sensitive skin of Astarion's inner thighs. “Was that enthusiastic enough for you my Star?” the man asks with a smug grin. Astarion tries to glare at him, but its impact is lessened thanks to the flush in his cheeks and his still half-hard cock.
The moment Astarion regains his composure Gale is on him, kissing him until his head spins and he’s breathless once more.
By the Hells he’s glad that Gale learnt how to breathe through his nose when he was in university, because Astarion is sure as fuck reaping the benefits now.
He’s so busy being kissed senseless that he doesn’t realise the mage’s hands have slid under him to grasp him by his ass until he’s being lifted up into his lover's arms. He clings to Gale, his arms and legs wrapped around him, their lips somehow still locked together even as Gale moves to the centre of the room to lay him on the floor.
Astarion is about to complain, he doesn’t want to have a sore back from fucking on a cold hardwood floor with a meagre rug for padding, only to find that there is now a comfortable pile of pillows and blankets for him to lie on.
Fuck, he loves the benefits of having sex with his wizard.
One hand leaves his ass, and Astarion knows that it’s only so Gale can summon the expensive lube from the bedroom that he insists on splurging on. Not that he’s complaining. He’s rather used to being spoiled by the other man, he does deserve it after all.
Soon the hand returns, slipping under his skirt and between his shaking thighs to start gently massaging at his hole until it relaxes enough for a finger to slide in.
As always, Gale takes his time stretching the vampire open, only slipping in another finger when he deems Astarion ready, and occasionally brushing at his prostate, swallowing all of the elf's mewls and whimpers.
His other hand travels across Astarion's chest, playing with the laces of the corset and sliding into the deep neckline of his shirt to fondle his pecs. The mage’s talented fingers tease his nipple with featherlight touches, before reaching up to massage at his ear. The same ear sporting the silver earring inlaid with rubies and amethysts that Gale’s mother had given him as a ‘Welcome to the Family’ present.
From anyone else it might have felt like a symbol of ownership, but to Astarion it was a sign of acceptance.
It could be minutes, it could be hours that pass, Astarion can never tell, as Gale slowly works him open while whispering sweet praise into his sensitive ear.
“You look so damn beautiful my Star, fuck” he pants out, feverish and breathless, “Gods! Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined you looking like this, but damn are they going to be filled with what you could create now.”
Oh if only the man knew just how many outfits he has stored away in this very room. Perhaps during the University’s summer break they could take the time for Astarion to model them all.
Right now though, he’s trying to encourage his lover to hurry the Hells up and fuck him already!
It seems that Gale has finally, finally, deemed him ready, as his fingers slip out of Astarion's stretched hole, as does a whine from his throat that the vampire can’t quite contain. It makes Gale press soft kisses to his cheeks, cooing sweet, soothing words into his twitching ear.
Gale sits up only enough to unlace his trousers, pulling both them and his underwear down to free his cock before pouncing on his partner. As though he cannot bear to leave the vampire empty any longer than he has to.
Astarion is of the same sentiment, as he pulls Gale back into him, his hands darting out to thread into Gale’s locks, freeing the half bun that has been threatening to come undone since his head went up his skirt.
“Please” he whimpers, his voice nearly breaking from how on edge he is, “Please darling, I’m ready please.” Gale nods, taking hold of himself to guide his cock into the vampire’s waiting hole. Astarion’s head snaps back as he feels the head of Gale’s cock notch then begin to broach him.
His wizard pushes in slowly, just as he always does no matter how much the spawn begs him to go faster. Astarion knows that it’s because Gale doesn’t want to hurt him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t urge him to go faster.
Because he can. He can push and prod and tease and Gale will let him, will let him be a brat and test the boundaries of his patience. Lets him explore who he is in the bedroom when he has not been compelled to perform, lets him do so without punishment.
But that’s not what he wants to do today. Today, he wants to lie back and let Gale set the pace. Mostly.
What he does do, is tug Gale down to kiss him, their mouths opening in mirrored moans as the movement causes the wizard's cock to brush against his prostate.
Astarion's nails dig into Gale’s scalp, and the man starts to rock into him, encouraged by the small needles of pain. The vampire makes sure his claws are kept filed so that he doesn’t hurt his love accidentally, but Gale doesn’t mind a bit of pain mixed with his pleasure.
“Gale-” Astarion mumbles into Gale’s mouth when the man keeps his thrusts shallow, “feels good, so good darling, please-”
Gale’s pace picks up, as does the strength of his thrusts, fuelled by the praise. He pulls out more, but only halfway, as if he can’t stand to leave the embrace of the elf's tight sheath.
Astarion doesn’t complain, for each time the wizard’s cock seats itself fully within him, his prostate is hit nearly dead on, making the spawn howl and his hole clench, which only spurs his lover on more.
Hells, he loves how Gale strives to make him feel good, and how he thrives on the various noises the vampire makes. Not the fake, forced, performative noises he used when he had to bring victims back for his sire, but the true, pure sounds of genuine pleasure.
The only stimulation his cock is getting is the soft fabric of his skirt rubbing against it, slowly being stained with the precum steadily leaking out.
He doesn’t need to worry about it being ruined though, thanks to the wonders of prestidigitation.
Gale pulls away from his lips. Another whine escapes Astarion, but it quickly turns into a moan when the other man starts licking and nibbling at his neck. His love knows how sensitive it is, and how much they both love marking each other. The wizard has to cover them up when he goes to work, but Astarion is more than happy to show them off, only hiding them away when they’re in polite company.
With each new mark sucked into his pale skin, the spawn’s noises become louder, higher, more frequent. And each one spurs Gale on to go faster, fuck him deeper, to make him scream in ecstasy.
Hells he loves when Gale gets like this. When he throws his propriety out of the window and fucks Astarion like an animal. Possessive and wild and so fucking good.
Astarion struggles to keep track of how close he is, can barely keep his head above water, but he just manages to acknowledge the familiar feeling building up in his groin.
“Gale-Ga-” he tries to get out, tries to warn his lover, but then Gale bites down on the junction between Astarion’s neck and shoulder, and his second orgasm hits so hard that his vision whites out.
Astarion barely registers the feeling of Gale coming, being filled to the brim with searing warmth as the mage groans out his pleasure.
As they lie there, panting and basking in the afterglow, Astarion jokes "If this is how you act when I wear a skirt, I can't wait to see how you react when I put on the lingerie that I've made for myself."
The deep rolling growl that Gale emits makes Astarion's toes curl.
“You minx,” Gale groans out as he laves his tongue gently over the bite on Astarion’s shoulder, “You clever, sneaky little minx. Gods, I love you so fucking much.”
Astarion giggles, going to say something no doubt teasing, but it gets thrown straight out of his head when Gale pulls out and pushes back in so sharply that it shuts down the vampire’s brain and sends him reeling.
He gets far more than a second round that night.
Along with plenty of ideas of how to surprise his wonderful partner in the future.
Most of which include the many outfits he currently has stored away, ready for when he wants Gale to let his inhibitions go and show him what real pleasure is like.