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Halsin almost didn’t want to travel any closer to the Gate. After fighting the cursed darkness for so long, he wanted nothing more than to settle down in what little wilderness remained before reaching the city, wildshape into something more suited for a roll about in the grass, and let the sun warm his fur.
What a relief, then, to be left in camp while Tav scouted ahead with Wyll, Lae’zel, and Jaheira. Not one of their other companions complained about being left behind, for a change. Their bodies were battered, blood-soaked clothes needed washing, and their supplies had run down to nothing but dubious sausages from Moonrise Towers and spirits upon spirits from the Waning Moon.
Gale sighed as he inventoried their provisions. “Another dwarfish dinner tonight. But once we return to civilization and I have access to a proper larder, I promise, we’ll dine like royals.”
Halsin shook his head. “You couldn’t ask for a more generous larder than nature provides herself. I’ll forage some fruit for lunch, hunt some game for dinner.”
“Well, let me know if nature is generous enough to provide some ready-made butter and a lemon to zest.”
Setting out into the surrounding woods, the scent of greenery and earth and life wrapped him up like a waiting lover’s embrace. First things first: slipping into something more comfortable. He wildshaped into a bear for a nice, long loll in the grass, the sun glowing rosy and bright through his heavy eyelids. If he had a little nap—or a big one—well, he had a sharp enough nose even in elf form to make quick work of foraging. It didn’t take long for him to find blackberries, wild strawberries, fiddleheads, chanterelles, and—praise be—honeycomb.
Once he’d filled his pack and his belly, licking honey from his fingers, he followed the scent and rising murmur of the river to wash his hands and face.
But then another smell on the wind made his hackles rise. The sickly-sweet rot and strange wintry bite of undeath. Only this wasn’t some shadow-wight that had somehow survived to follow them and spread the curse anew. Just as his senses alerted to danger, they were softened once again by the sweeter notes that followed: rosemary, bergamot, and a hint of sweet liquor.
Astarion.
Halsin smiled. So he wasn’t the only one who’d been starving for sunlight. To think he’d found a few weeks in the Shadowlands unbearable, when his companion hadn’t seen the sun for over two hundred years.
He followed the trail of perfume down to the riverbank, his tongue already tangling. It had been a long time since any potential lover had made him so nervous. It wasn’t just the vampire’s otherworldly beauty, either. He was unpredictable, coy and sultry one moment and then prim and standoffish the next. The wrong word could make him flash his fangs like he meant to use them for more than a biting retort—or burst into unexpected laughter, his grin pointy and strangely endearing.
He’d heard the whispers around camp when the party had returned after speaking with Raphael at the Last Light. Astarion’s scars went deeper than the ones the demon had forcibly revealed.
Halsin knew better than to think such pain could be simply kissed away. But if the little spawn wanted to know more tenderness than he’d received thus far in his life, the druid would eagerly provide. His blood, his body—his heart.
When he finally reached the dip in the sloping riverbank where the vampire lay sprawled, he stiffened. In more ways than one.
Astarion had fallen asleep in the afternoon sun, completely naked. His pale body glowed like marble in the golden light. All smooth skin and slender muscle, melted lazily into the long grass and wildflowers. For once, his face relaxed, the sun’s caress smoothing out all the fussy furrows and creases of worry. Though his laugh lines remained as he smiled in his sleep. Must’ve been dreaming about something sweet.
Suddenly, those lithe limbs tensed, ruby eyes snapping open in alarm.
Halsin forced his head to turn, tearing his gaze away. "My apologies, I—"
He shouldn't have been staring. It was a struggle to keep his eyes firmly locked on the ground, practically envying the grass itself for cradling all that alabaster skin just a glance away.
Astarion gave a deep, satisfied yawn, not so alarmed anymore. "Well, I didn’t think a druid like yourself would be so shy about a little lack of clothing. Besides, you already got a good eyeful—I hope."
Was that…an invitation? Well, the bear within him certainly found those wafting pheromones familiar enough.
Halsin dared a peek, meeting the vampire's eyes. Astarion stretched as luxuriously as a cat, throwing his arms over his head, legs shaking a bit as his toes pointed daintily. Oh, to make those legs tremble on purpose. They’d be so easy to hitch up over his shoulders. Could his large hands encircle that tiny waist completely?
As the vampire sprawled there, posing and preening, his slender, rosy cock stirred as if caressed by more than a hungry gaze.
The druid’s voice deepened with the hint of a growl. "Nature was certainly generous when she sculpted you, Astarion."
A sudden scoff took him aback.
"It's about time you noticed,” said Astarion. “I was this close to parading about like this in camp just to get your attention."
Halsin swallowed, but the guilt he’d thought lifted along with the shadow curse lingered, bitter in the back of his throat. "I have been…distracted. But Astarion, please, do not doubt—I have long noticed you."
Pale lashes fluttered with a thoughtful blink. A single shoulder lifted in a half-shrug. "Well, you’ve kept me waiting long enough—come here."
Halsin obeyed, dropping to his knees. But where to start, presented with such a feast laid out before him? Didn’t nobles usually serve meals in courses, brought out one at a time to be nibbled with precise cutlery, rather than piling fruit and meats all together like a harvest offering? Surely this city dandy wanted to be wooed, rather than briskly and roughly mounted, teeth gripping the scruff of his neck?
The druid stifled a low growl in his throat, his leather pants going tight. No, the lovely little thing before him, lithe and fine-boned as a bird, deserved a gentler courtship.
Astarion huffed. “Would you hurry up and get to the ravishing, or—”
Halsin hadn’t expected to reach out and find warmth. The hand he gingerly cradled in his own didn’t radiate its own heat, but it had basked long enough in the sun to thaw any chill.
“Oh,” said Astarion. He gaped as the druid brought that hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over the knuckles. Then his fangs flashed as he threw his head back with a little laugh.
Halsin continued trailing his lips down that pale forearm, up his slender but firm bicep.
The smaller elf squirmed, cock untouched but already hardening against the crook of his hip. “I thought you were supposed to be a—a wild man, not a gentleman.”
Halsin’s laugh rumbled deep from his chest. “Not entirely a man, but I do try to be gentle.”
Astarion surged up, fingers tangling in the druid’s hair as he seized his mouth with a muffled moan. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, trying to pull him down, but Halsin hovered steadily over that writhing body, resisting the urge to grind down and cage that slender form with his broad self. If he gave into the instinct to rut this soon, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
But he wanted this to last. Even as Astarion licked into his mouth, tempting the bear with the lingering sweetness of blood on his tongue, Halsin held back. Somehow he found the strength to pull away, disentangle the arms around his neck, ignoring the pleading whine of protest.
“Why are you still clothed? That’s hardly fair—”
Halsin had to shift a little too far for his own liking, the vampire staring up at him with slight panic in his eyes. Then he lifted a delicate white foot onto his lap.
Astarion broke into a pointy grin. “Ohhh! I wouldn’t have thought you’d have a thing for—”
He interrupted himself with a groan as Halsin dug a thumb into his sole.
“Not in particular,” said Halsin. He kneaded the tender muscles under his grasp with strong fingers, mindful of the recently-formed calluses born of walking too long in the wilderness in shoes meant for cobbled streets. “But every little part of you deserves love.”
Astarion’s head fell back, his choked little moan almost pained.
“Too much?”
“Oh, don’t you dare stop…”
“Shhh.” Halsin cooed the same as he did when soothing an agitated animal, stopping to reach into the pouch on his belt for some healing salve. Then he continued his ministrations, first on one foot, then the other, digging his thumbs and then his knuckles into each tender sole and heel, massaging the ankles, giving every toe a little squeeze.
Astarion writhed all the while, an arm thrown over his face, partly stifling his moans and even a few bit-back whimpers. The tips of his ears burned red, maybe the only part of him that could still betray a blush.
Halsin stroked from the left foot on his lap down the firm calf. Those lithe legs were going to make such a lovely vice around his waist.
“Would you turn over for me, my heart?”
The vampire didn’t hesitate, rolling right over. But then he drew up his knees and lowered his curly head, presenting his ass.
Halsin laughed. “So eager.”
He allowed himself to palm one of those pert cheeks, silky-smooth in his calloused hand. Astarion sighed, leaning back into the touch.
But the druid just patted his ass, then pushed down. It drew a querilous little noise from the vampire’s throat, even as he lowered obediently, laying flat on his stomach.
“Not yet, love.”
Astarion’s head lifted to glance back over his shoulder. “What?”
Halsin shifted back again on his knees, fingering a bit more salve to warm between his palms before returning his hands to those firm calves. The vampire relaxed again, his groan muffled as his calf muscles were squeezed, then his hamstrings, limbs loosening under the druid’s healing hands.
But then another protest rumbled his throat as Halsin skipped over those tempting buttocks, reaching for the lower back instead.
“Oh, you cruel man,” said Astarion. But he still sighed as the druid kneaded outward from the base of his spine. His hands spread on either side of his waist didn’t quite meet at the tips of his fingers and thumbs, but oh, they came so close.
Next, though, loomed the expanse of scars. Halsin didn’t even have to ask, the question clear from the sudden pause in the otherwise leisurely journey of his hands.
“You can—” Astarion cleared his throat. “Please, go on.”
“Do they still hurt?”
Silver curls trembled as he nodded, face buried in folded arms.
Halsin reached back into his pouch for a healing potion to mix with the salve. Then he moved to straddle his knees on either side the vampire’s slim hips. Slowly, he pressed his fingers against the mottled skin, listening carefully to the vampire’s breathing for any hitch of distress.
Astarion swallowed a gasp, his body trembling. Halsin waited.
“I’m fine—please.”
Pulling back, the druid slowly caressed his scars, spreading the salve evenly over the breadth of his skin before pressing deeper into the muscles. Soon, the trembling eased, as well as his breathing. Until shoulders began to shake.
“Astarion?” Halsin lifted his hands, shifting back off his knees. “Did I hurt you?”
Still buried in folded arms came a muffled sniff. “No, you—you damned—” His voice choked on a sob. “Bloody druid.”
Finally, Astarion propped up his head, tears glinting on his pale lashes. “I just wanted a little romp in the sun, let you stain my knees in the grass while you rut me stupid, but you—why do you have to be so sweet?”
Halsin leaned down, his tongue suddenly too thick to speak. For now, he reached down to cup Astarion’s cheek, his thumb smearing an errant tear.
“Like that,” said Astarion. He sniffled. “It’s infuriating.”
Halsin coaxed the vampire up off of the grass into his arms, cradling that small, naked body against his own. Still surprisingly warm, soaking up sunlight like the moon.
“I am sorry,” said Halsin. “I didn’t expect to stumble upon you like this. I would have courted you slow and sweet as you deserve, had I not been distracted, and our time less fraught.”
Astarion lifted his head up from Halsin’s chest. “Court me? Darling, I thought you were a bear, not one of those dancing birds.”
“And you aren’t a bird, the way you preen and sing your lines?”
“I—” Astarion’s mouth dropped in indignation, only to shut again. “Well—”
Halsin’s laugh rumbled so deep, the tremors shook through the little vampire in his lap, as well. Astarion buried his face in his broad chest, muffling his own mirth.
Then he lifted his head and shut them both up with another kiss. Hard and deep, finished with a little warning nip of his fangs.
“I’m tired of being the only one naked,” he said imperiously. “If you don’t show me your natural self right now, druid, I’ll tell everyone you’ve been domesticated.”
Halsin unceremoniously dumped him off his lap—not without protest—and stood to immediately remove his jerkin and trousers. He sighed as the air and the warmth of the sun finally greeted his freed cock.
Then he gasped as that warmth suddenly turned wet and tight. Astarion’s mouth was on him—no, his throat. He’d taken him all the way to the root in one smooth glide, his pale lashes fluttering, ruby eyes grinning.
Halsin grunted, gripping silver curls, not to push his head down, but steady himself against the urge. Not that he needed to thrust. The vampire had already begun to bob his head up and down, pulling back almost all the way off to kiss the tip before swallowing his shaft down again, gulping around the bulge in his throat. Drool spilled from the corners of his lewdly stretched lips, the vibration of his moans forcing Halsin to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from coming unexpectedly down that eager throat.
“Steady there.” Gripping those curls, he pushed Astarion not down, but off. “Don’t want to finish before we’re started.”
Astarion licked the trailing spittle around his mouth, fangs flashing. “Oh, are we getting started at last?”
Halsin couldn’t help but tap the head of his cock against those smirking lips, painting them with precome. But he pulled back just as they parted for more, tongue darting out for one last taste.
“Very well,” said Halsin. “On all fours again, for me?”
Astarion moved slower this time, patience suddenly restored now that he’d goaded the bear into nearly losing his own. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”
Once again, he lifted his ass, pale and perfect in the golden afternoon light.
Halsin wasn’t so gentle anymore, digging his palms into those cheeks as he parted them. Astarion barely had time to gasp before the druid plunged his face into the cleft.
“Halsin!”
He drew a long lick from taint to hole, lapping the tight ring, making it clench and unclench. Answering the long, choked-out whimper with a deep growl of hunger, he plunged his tongue inside.
Astarion keened, clawing the grass below him until he reached earth. His pleading and babbling went to the druid’s head as heady as wine, urging him on.
But what if he misheard? It nearly hurt to lift his face enough to speak, already missing the warmth between those cheeks.
"Good?"
“Please.” Astarion’s voice ran thready. “More, more! Ah—!”
Halsin dove back in, savoring another chorus of begging as he feasted. He barely had the presence of mind to reach for the salve and coat his fingers. Then, between licks, he sunk in first one fingertip, sucked up readily by the fluttering ring of muscle. In and out, till he’d worked past the knuckle. Another finger, mouth trailing down the taint again to suckle his tightening balls from behind. Precome leaked on the grass.
The druid pulled back for more salve, and to watch his third finger sink with ease into that slick, warm vice.
“Look at you open for me, like a morning bloom.”
Astarion panted, and yet, he valiantly gathered enough breath to speak. “I’ll forgive the poetry, only—only ‘cause your tongue is…so talented otherwise.”
Then he yelped as Halsin sank a punishing bite into his left arsecheek. Hard, but not too hard—his own fangs were out. He withdrew his fingers before they could turn clawed.
At last, Halsin sat back and coated his heavy cock, letting it rest for a moment between those cheeks, looming like a warning.
Astarion leaned back into him, muttering almost under his breath. “Oh, gods…”
“You see why I did not wish to hurry?”
Halsin steadied one hand on the vampire’s hip, guiding the leaking tip of his cock, trying to press in gently. He trembled as he finally breached, fighting to keep the bear at bay. When he bit his lip, forgetting himself, his fangs drew blood.
But then Astarion choked back a whimper beneath him. The man overcame the bear this time. He stroked his lover’s side as he waited, holding back in spite of the beckoning tightness and warmth.
“Are you all right, little one?”
Astarion’s scoff made him smile, more comforting than any amount of sweet nothings. “I’m not—that little—"
Halsin permitted himself another inch. They both groaned.
“You’re the one who’s—hah—so bloody huge—"
He draped his hulking frame over the slender one beneath him, running his tongue along the delicate pointed shell of his ear. Astarion gasped and writhed, taking him even deeper.
“Darling, you’re so—fuck, so big, I can’t think—but quit hogging all the sunlight.”
Halsin broke into a hearty laugh, pulling back up to share his lover with the embrace of the sun. As much as he wanted to cradle him closer, he certainly couldn’t complain about this view, all that pale skin dazzling in the daylight. Not to mention watching his thick cock disappear inch by inch inside that impossibly stretched hole. He growled again as his hips finally met flush with Astarion’s arse, muscles shaking from the restraint.
“Oh, little star…”
He forced himself still, reaching to thread gentle fingers through those silver curls, until finally the little vampire whined, attempting to thrust backwards.
“Go on,” said Astarion. “Or is the bear hibernating early this year?”
Halsin chuckled as he slid his cock back almost all the way out. Then, gripping those curls, he tugged—right as he slammed his hips with a merciless thrust.
Astarion howled. Halsin couldn’t help but growl in satisfaction. Now every creature in the woods knew this mating call. The whole forest would know he’d chosen his mate.
Maybe even their companions at camp could’ve heard that. Either way, their absence might’ve been noted by now, so they couldn’t afford a leisurely pace anymore.
Well, he had asked to be ravished, hadn’t he?
The druid finally let go, mind going dark as his eyes glowed bright. The bear drove him to rut hard and fast, punching out breathless whines and mewls with every thrust. He pinned his smaller mate helpless and writhing beneath him, voicing his pleasure with a deep rumble in his throat. Forgetting to share the sunlight once more, he leaned down to mark his claim with his teeth.
Astarion went slack beneath him. No longer wound up tight with building pleasure, nor spent from release.
The bear wanted to take this sudden submissiveness as a victory. But the man clawed his way violently to the surface, releasing the neck from his jaws before pulling back and then pulling out entirely.
The small noise of protest was reassuring. He petted the vampire’s side tentatively. “Are you all right, my heart?”
Astarion broke his stillness, lifting his head and flapping a hand with a dramatic exhale. “Oh, hells, I’m fine. You don’t have to—please, come back.”
Halsin reached to coax the vampire up into his lap. Astarion wrapped his legs around his waist, reaching to guide his cock back inside with a sigh.
A fresh indentation of teeth burned red on the vampire’s neck—right over the puncture scars.
“I am sorry. I—I should not have lost control.”
But his lover just kept moving, closing his eyes and rolling his hips, as if he weren’t even listening. The sheen of sweat made his skin glisten like crystallized marble, his thoroughly mussed curls damp and sticking to his brow.
“Astarion—”
Arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair as his head was guided back into the crook of his neck. He breathed in rosemary and bergamot, and—thankfully—the musky pheromones of lust still persisting.
“Again,” said Astarion.
Halsin pressed his lips to those scars. This time, he didn’t pull away as a broken sound he felt more than heard tore from the throat under his mouth. But he didn’t use his teeth just yet—just brushed soft kisses, laved soothingly with his tongue. The arms around his neck were trembling.
His hips moved of their own will once more, cradling that slender waist as he thrust up slow but deep. He reached between them to stroke Astarion’s cock, slick with sweat and precome. At last, he gingerly sank another bite, his fangs opening the scarred wound anew.
Astarion sobbed, warm spend spilling over Halsin’s stomach. The scent awakened the bear once more. He surged forward with a growl, toppling his mate back into the grass, propping his legs on his shoulders and folding him in half so he could drive deeper, harder. Chasing the animal instinct to bury his seed deep, so deep as he drank in those wild cries ringing through the trees, sharp nails raking scratches down his biceps till they drew blood—
When he came, his roar wasn’t entirely human.
Spread out beneath him, panting and loosening his grip on the arms trembling on either side of his head, Astarion flashed those fangs again as he laughed. “Praise the Oak Father.”
Halsin dipped his head down to press their brows together. He wanted nothing more than to roll them over, still buried inside his lover, and let the warmth of flushed skin and midday sun lull them to sleep again in each other’s arms.
But their companions were no doubt waiting for the nature’s bounty he promised for lunch.
With a mutual groan, he pulled out and sat up.
Astarion gave a surprising pout. “Don't tell me you of all people aren't a cuddler.”
Halsin leaned down to hush him with a good, long, placating kiss. "I'd hold you all night, my heart, but it's daytime. We should wash up.”
Anxiety crossed those ruby eyes. “I’ve never—” The vampire cleared his throat sheepishly. “Not in a river. You know, running water.”
“Well, if you can stand in the sun, surely you are protected in the water, as well?”
“I hope…”
Halsin stood and offered his hand. “If it hurts, I’ll scoop you right up and back to shore.”
Astarion glanced at his upturned palm. For a moment, he seemed almost bashful, as if he didn’t have spend running down his inner thighs.
Halsin swore to himself, then: no matter what horrors awaited in their not-so-distant future, he’d keep courting his lover like they’d never touched more than fingers, gentle and unhurried. Just to see the blush at the tips of those ears, the unexpected shyness of that pointy grin. As long as his lover granted him the patience, of course.
“Well…” Astarion threaded his fingers through his hair with a fussy moue. “It seems you’ve positively ruined my hair, so needs must.”
Then he reached to place his small, pale hand in the druid’s tanned palm, and together, they ambled towards the water sparkling in the sunlight.