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Quile was sitting on a rock near the edge of camp, swirling around the goblet filled with wine in his hands. He never… well, he rarely likes large gatherings, and this one feels barely any different. He’s used to his time in the Underdark, where the only thing he was allowed to do at parties was to look after the servants and make sure they didn’t fall out of line. He grimaces as his gaze lands on the goblet, wishing not to remember that time right now. He’s supposed to be joyous, to be happy . Quile guesses it’d even please his Lady of Dance, Eilistraee, to be further involved in the celebration. His gaze moves to the sky, eyes landing on the moon, muttering praise under his breath, accompanied by his thankfulness that all went well with him and his group, preventing the Rite of Thorns and returning Halsin safely.
Speaking of his companions, Quile’s eyes dart around the party, triple-checking on where they were— old habits die hard, as the surfacers tend to say. Quile had just checked on both Gale and Wyll, so he knows they’re both okay. He stifles a chuckle at Karlach dancing around with Lakrissa to Alfira’s music, and he sees Shadowheart eyeing the duo; her eyes mostly fixated on Karlach. Halsin was chatting with Zevlor near the camp’s edge, drink in hand. Quile isn’t necessarily surprised at Astarion looking grumpy in front of his tent, frowning at his own goblet, but what he is surprised at is the vampire spawn looking up suddenly and meeting Quile’s eyes. That dangerous smirk of his graces his face, raising an eyebrow at him. Quile glanced away rather quickly, brushing a stray, white strand of hair behind his pointed ear. He was never a fan of being observed in return, feeling especially exposed considering that Quile was still embarrassed over the night when he learned of Astarion’s true nature. He used to be a guard, after all– supposed to look tough and heroic, not squirming and whimpering under the fangs of a vampire spawn. He’s still a little surprised that he didn’t feel some sort of judgment from the Dark Maiden for that, but he supposes there’s barely anything that resembles unity between others quite like offering your lifeblood to someone.
Quile assumes he gets a little too lost in his musings, as not a breath after that thought, he hears the shifting of fabric and feels a cold presence sit next to him. He can practically feel the smirk in Astarion’s greeting, his voice dripping in something Quile can’t necessarily place.
“Hello, darling.”
Quile’s eyes moved quickly to meet Astarion’s, widening slightly at the sudden greeting. He nods in response, as usual– the drow wasn’t necessarily someone who spoke much, especially considering he still wasn’t completely fluent in Common.
“People watching, are we?” Astarion continues, turning to look out to the party, a gentle smirk still present on his face. “Surely there are better ways to celebrate your heroics than to wallow in that little infested brain of yours.”
Quile huffs, shaking his head before taking another sip of his wine. He could barely taste it on his tongue, drinking more because it was expected than to enjoy it. “You have a better idea, then?” he asks as a mumble, a little chuckle trailing the question– no malice behind his words.
“Well,” Astarion begins, tone dripping in that same something as it was when he had sat down, “I could think of something mutually beneficial, if you’d be so inclined to indulge in me.”
Quile’s brain snags on the phrasing, in me? He could rarely tell what Astarion was up to as is; he didn’t need to be thrown off by his wording.
“I’m… unsure if I understand,” Quile responds, eyes grazing over Astarion’s face in an attempt to clarify the meaning behind his words. Quile always struggled to understand surfacers’ words when they didn’t speak clearly– to be fair, he had only “defected” and began following Eilistraee within the past decade, so he feels as if he hasn’t had enough time to learn the double-meanings and innuendos surfacers used so often.
Astarion lets out a teasing chuckle, placing a hand onto Quile’s forearm. “I say we take a little time to ourselves, away from camp,” he starts, before moving to whisper directly into Quile’s ear, “I’m quite interested to see if I can make you repeat those sweet little noises you make for me, dear.”
Quile bit the insides of his mouth as an attempt to stop himself from reacting immediately, which only partially works, given a blush rises to his cheeks and the ear Astarion whispered into twitched to betray his interest. “Would… how would…” Quile clears his throat after a moment, eyes flicking to meet Astarion’s before looking away. “Is it just… hunger, then?” he asks, a little too gently than he had wanted. He was definitely okay with just being underneath Astarion for him to feed, but the way Astarion had worded it–
“In a sense,” Astarion interrupts his spiraling, lips still close to Quile’s ear. “While I am a little peckish, I have some other needs I’d like to take care of. With you. Perhaps under you. We can see where the night goes,” he mutters, teasingly sliding his fang against Quile’s earring.
Under? ... oh. Oh.
Quile bit his bottom lip, turning the thought over in his head. The blush present on his face somehow managed to deepen as his mind wandered. “I would… be welcome to that,” he whispered, barely audible, and yet he knows the pale elf can hear him.
He hears Astarion let out a pleased hum, quickly pressing a kiss to Quile’s neck, almost directly over the two marks from when he had fed from him two nights ago– Quile only gently disappointed in how quickly the marks had started to fade. “I’m glad, my little knight. When everyone else settles down, come meet me outside of camp. Behind my tent, close to the river. Preferably without all your damn armor on,” Astarion chuckles at the end of his sentence, the hand still resting on Quile’s forearm squeezing him for a moment before Astarion got up and sauntered off to where he was standing previously.
Quile pretends he does not pay attention to the deliberate sway of the vampire’s hips, and instead bothers to adjust the fabric of the high-slitted skirt he wore over his pants to cover the bulge that was beginning to show. Now that he was thinking of it, Quile was starting to feel a bit weighed down from the armor he still had yet to take off…
It would be a lie to say that Quile wasn’t nervous.
He was currently wearing what he normally wore when not traveling- a flowy, deep purple shirt tucked into a comfortable corset, paired with some fitted, black pants that matched his slip-ons– and heading his way past Astarion’s tent. Quile’s quite sure nobody else in camp was aware of him and Astarion sneaking off. A glance over his shoulder confirms that everyone was either asleep or too drunk by the campfire to notice. He’s not sure how he’d feel if someone knew, or if he got caught following after Astarion– it’d feel embarrassing, sure, but he felt… something else at the thought; a little churning of heat within himself he’s unsure what to do with. He’ll think about that later; he needs to focus on not making a fool of himself with both locating and being with Astarion.
He understands what Astarion wants, but Quile’s unsure if he’s truly the best one to give it. Quile… can’t remember the last time he was intimate with someone. He knows it's at least been since he’s defected, not really finding anyone… attractive enough, he guesses. At least, until now. He thinks someone has it out for him when they placed him with his companions, all gorgeous in their own right. He just hasn’t necessarily felt any romantic or sexual attraction to… some of them. Most, at least. He still needs to unpack that thought, but instead, he’s stumbling his way into it by agreeing to “spend time” with Astarion. A grimace graces his face for a moment, trying to think if Astarion wants anything specific with him and if he should maybe be handling this gentler than he has.
Before he allowed himself to spiral further, Quile finally found a clearing that was near the river that he assumed Astarion was talking about. He slowed his steps, breathing in slowly as he took in the area around him.
Quile’s eyes graze over a tree for a moment before returning to it as he sees his– the vampire spawn move out from behind it, shirtless with a smirk on his face.
“There you are, darling,” Astarion purrs, his eyes roaming over Quile as he moves over to him. Quile feels himself straighten both under Astarion’s gaze and as he approaches, ears twitching as he does so. “I’ve been waiting. Waiting since the moment I laid eyes on you. Waiting… to have you,” he continues, now standing in front of Quile, placing a finger underneath the slightly taller drow’s chin, grasping him by it to force the paladin to look him in the eyes.
Quile feels a shiver rush through him, gently biting down on his lower lip as Astarion’s thumb moves to gently stroke over the various scars littering his chin, lips, and neck. Quile hadn’t thought that far– a little paranoid as to what Astarion would think of the myriad of scars over his body, especially the one on his back. Astarion didn’t give him time to begin to panic about that, however, rising to press a kiss to Quile’s lips.
It was arguably the best feeling Quile has ever had.
The kiss was rather chaste, all things considered. Astarion only joined their lips together for a few breaths before pulling away with his signature smirk on his face.
“I prepared myself for you,” Astarion whispers, leaning forward once more to nibble at Quile’s bottom lip. “Been waiting to feel you. Both under and over me,” he continues, taking one of Quile’s hands in his and guiding the drow to touch him, placing his hand on his waist.
“That is, if you’re… interested, ” Astarion purrs once more, leaning back to be able to look the drow in his eyes. “I want words, darling, even if that silent persona of yours is quite the attractor.”
Quile’s mind catches up with his body, hand squeezing Astarion’s waist where it was placed before rubbing small circles into Astarion’s skin. His other hand also placed itself onto Astarion, matching the other’s grip on his waist. He was blushing profusely, and he was sure Astarion was able to tell how hard he was, bulge prominent against his pants. “I… I’d like that. To be… over you,” he eventually stumbles the words out of his mouth, nerves making his throat feel like it was closing. “Though it has been… a while. Since I’ve done this sort of thing,” he whispers, figuring it would be better to let Astarion know now before the vampire spawn got his hopes up.
“Well then, we simply must rectify that,” Astarion chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to Quile’s lips again before turning to swap places with him, gently pushing the drow so his back was against the tree Astarion had come out from. A gasp escapes Quile as he did so, not expecting this, but also– he realizes with surprise– not minding the gentle manhandling.
They meet each other’s lips again and, to Quile’s delight, this one lasts much, much longer. Quile hesitantly brings a hand up to Astarion’s hair, earning a groan from the vampire spawn when he tangles his fingers with Astarion’s locks. He returns the favor, hand digging into Quile’s hair and giving it a pull forward to clash their faces together again after a small pause. Quile’s mouth opens in surprise, allowing for– God’s above– a whimper to escape him, Astarion responding with another groan and sliding his exploring tongue into Quile’s mouth. It was barely a fight for dominance between their tongues, Quile giving up to Astarion rather easily, allowing himself to be completely under his will.
They break away eventually, with Astarion biting Quile’s bottom lip, his eyes scanning over the drow. Quile notices a smirk grace his face before Astarion pulls them together tightly, close enough to where Quile could feel the pale elf’s cock grind against his thigh through the fabric of his pants. Quile bit down a moan that threatened to escape him, and another at the realization that Astarion could feel his hardness, too– hips bucking against him for a moment.
“Well then,” Astarion purrs out again, his ear twitching as he dragged his eyes down the drow once more, Quile feeling heat rise to his cheeks as his gaze landed on Quile’s bulge. “Gods, you look like such a pleasing mouthful,” Astarion teases, rising once more to grind their cocks together, a moan escaping them both. “Sadly, that’s not quite what I had in mind this time.”
Quile’s brain snags on the phrase this time, almost catching him off-guard enough for him to initially miss Astarion tugging on the hem of his shirt. Quile clears his throat in embarrassment, blushing profusely as he hesitantly lets go of Astarion to help the other take his shirt off. He doesn’t miss how Astarion’s eyes immediately go to the various scars of swords and arrows and Gods-know-what-else on Quile’s chest, nor does he miss how the vampire spawn’s eyes widened slightly, before he resumed his mission, hands grasping at the drow’s pecs and thumbing over one of his nipples.
Quile gasps in response, leaning into Astarion’s touch, his own hands moving to grasp the vampire spawn by his shoulders. A moan rumbles through Quile at the sensation, followed by a whine as the pale elf teasingly pinches one of his nipples. Astarion chuckles at him, leaning forward to drag his teeth along one of Quile’s shoulders.
“May I, darling?” Astarion mumbles into Quile’s skin, turning his head to look into Quile’s eyes once more. Quile doesn’t respond verbally- instead, he simply tilts his head to the side to give Astarion as much room as possible. A purr escapes Astarion at the sight, Quile seeing him lick his lips, before he slowly dragged his fangs from his shoulder to his neck, pressing a kiss to it before biting down.
Quile gasps once more at the feeling, eyes squeezing shut as white danced around his gaze. His hips bucked forward again, subconsciously grinding against Astarion. A moan escapes him, his shoulders tense, his ears twitch, and… an embarrassed whine follows, seeing as he manages to cum from the feeling of Astarion’s feeding. He’s unsure if the vampire spawn notices, though- only echoing the moan Quile released at the taste of him, although it grew a bit louder as Quile came.
His entire body shakes, his hands moving again to squeeze at Astarion’s hips, one moving quickly to grasp at Astarion’s hair, gently pushing him back into the crevice of his neck after Astarion attempted to back away to see what was happening. Another moan escapes Quile as he bites his bottom lip, followed by a whimper at the feeling of Astarion feeding from him. He was surprised at how… enjoyable being fed from was once again, especially surprised at how he managed to cum from it– and how the edge of embarrassment somehow managed to turn him on again. By the Lady of Dance, Quile had a lot to think on when he next trances.
A few breaths later, Astarion separates from his neck, licking the bite marks left behind and kissing each pin prick before raising up. “You always taste amazing, my little knight, but you were a little... sweeter this time,” he breathes out, a small amount of blood dribbling from his chin. Astarion reaches up to wipe his mouth off, looking over Quile as he does so– pausing in his tracks and raising an eyebrow as he notices the distinct wet patch over the front of the drow’s trousers.
“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises,” Astarion mutters, ear flicking as he takes in the sight before him. Quile whines in response, tilting his head away to not risk looking into the pale elf’s eyes. He was still breathing heavily from his orgasm, blush spreading to his shoulders, hair gently ruffled from both Astarion’s hands and the tree behind him. Quile assumes he must look like a wretch under his gaze. He can’t tell if he minds that or not.
Yet another whimper escapes Quile as Astarion gently grazes the outline of Quile’s cock still present in his trousers with his fingertips, Quile closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip at the sensation. “Darling. Look at me,” Astarion purrs out, his other hand moving to grasp Quile by the chin and slowly bring his face to look towards him. Quile shudders, but he opens his eyes after a breath either way, managing to meet Astarion’s. He notices the pale elf grin, he sees some sort of thought churn in his brain, leading Quile to be curious as to what he was thinking about–
“Good boy.”
His brain short-circuits.
Quile tries his best to bite down the moan that escapes him, but it takes him by surprise– Astarion seems equally as shocked, given that he raised an eyebrow at Quile’s reaction. “Well, aren’t you a little deviant, darling, moaning like that over two little words?” Astarion teases, grin widening.
“I’d imagine you’d cum just from that, had you not soiled your trousers from my teeth in your neck. Gods, you’re such a delightful little treat for me, Quile,” Astarion continues, punctuating his words by dragging his hand down, cupping and grasping at the drow’s now half-hard cock– both of them somewhat surprised at how fast he managed to get hard again after his orgasm. Quile whines at the feeling of Astarion’s hand, hips once again bucking into his touch.
“Oh, we’ll get to that soon, darling,” he mutters, pressing a quick kiss to Quile’s chin. “Why don’t we find a little patch of moss to lie on and get you out of these trousers, hm?” he smirks, tugging Quile forwards by his trousers. Quile nods rather quickly, biting his bottom lip as he glances around before following Astarion closely.
They don't walk far, Astarion finding a patch of moss quite quickly before dragging Quile closer to himself by his pants once more. He then leans up to press a quick kiss to Quile’s mouth, before grasping him by the shoulders and pushing down on them– not actually strong enough to force Quile down. Quile understands the command either way, sinking to his knees and looking up into Astarion’s eyes.
“You look gorgeous on your knees, my sweet,” Astarion purrs out, before sitting down as well. “Alas, we may explore that another time. I feel like we both are quite done with the theatrics for now. Luckily, we can skip to the good part,” Astarion whispers against Quile’s lips, kissing him once again as he works on unlacing and removing the drow’s pants.
Quile moans into Astarion’s mouth, hands a little shaky, both from nerves and excitement. Gods, how he craves the feeling of Astarion under him; it actually surprises him, how much he wants and needs. Quile places his hands on the vampire spawn once more, this time to work on removing Astarion’s pants, taking a while to do so with how unsteady his hands were.
In the meantime, Astarion parts ways with Quile’s mouth for now, catching Quile’s bottom lip in his teeth momentarily. Astarion finally gets Quile’s pants open after separating from him lips– to be fair, Astarion was rather distracted– Quile feeling his eyes drag down his form. He once again straightens up under Astarion’s gaze, although not to his best ability; he was panting to regain his breath, hair a mess, blushing profusely, and his pupils were blown with want. There’s no need to assume this time, Quile knows he must look absolutely debauched.
Quile begins to think that Astarion’s simply staring for too long to be “done with the theatrics,” but Astarion gets that smirk on his face again before he begins helping Quile get his pants off. Astarion lies down to get his pants fully off him, and he tugs Quile by his pants to lie down as well, taking them off as quickly as he can.
Astarion thinks for a moment before raising up to grab his discarded pants, grabbing a vial out of his pants pocket. It takes a mildly embarrassing amount of time for Quile to realize it was oil, a whine escaping him at the realization.
Astarion chuckles at him, lying back down, flat against the moss beneath him. “It’s simply backup, my little knight. I did prepare myself to receive you, but you are a little thicker than I imagined. I’m definitely not complaining,” he explains, raising his hips to allow himself to take his underwear off, lying nude next to Quile.
He simply… stares for a moment, taking in Astarion beside him. “Gorgeous,” the drow whispers, not even aware he said anything. After a breath, Quile blinks himself back into focus, gently encouraging Astarion’s legs wider apart so he could slot between them, sliding his own underwear off– breath hitching as air hits his cock, still kind of sensitive from his first orgasm. He was… glad to be shed of his clothes, mostly because the feeling of a mixture of his cum and precum in his underwear was not the most pleasant.
“Good boy, darling. Didn’t even have to ask you to get over here,” Astarion says, the same grin from earlier plastered on his face. It gets wider as he notices both Quile’s full-body shiver and his dick twitch as a result of his words. Astarion spreads his legs wider as a response, one of his hands reaching down to circle a finger around his hole. “See, darling? All prepared. Just ready for you, sweetheart. Fuck me, Quile.”
Quile moans just at Astarion’s words once more, nodding and taking a deep breath before grasping ahold of his cock and guiding it to Astarion’s hole. They both moan at the feeling of Quile’s head sliding in, the paladin gritting his teeth as a moan that tapered off into a whimper rolled through him. Astarion chuckles playfully at Quile’s reaction, reaching a hand out for his hair once again. This time, though, the vampire spawn wraps one of Quile’s braids around his fist, gently tugging on it to encourage him to move. Quile moans from the feeling, surprised at how pleasant the tingle in his scalp felt. He presses his hips forward, careful to go slow. He remembers reading in… various fiction novels that initially going slow is a good idea, but–
“Oh, darling,” Astarion whines, a playful frown gracing his face as he wraps his legs around Quile’s middle. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I can take it. I want to feel you deep in me. Can’t you do that, little knight? Fill me,” Astarion says, punctuating the last sentence by tugging harder on his braid, squeezing Quile with both his insides and his legs around his waist.
Quile moans at the feeling, hips bucking forward subconsciously, pushing him almost fully inside of Astarion. Quile whimpers, eyes squeezing shut, nervously biting at his bottom lip again as yet another full-body shiver goes through him. “Fuck,” the drow whispers under his breath, accompanied by yet another whine as he slowly pushes himself the rest of the way inside Astarion.
He re-opens his eyes after a moment, gaze immediately focusing on how happy Astarion looked, a blissful expression on his face. “There you go, darling,” Astarion moans in response to Quile finally being fully inside of him, red eyes slowly opening to meet lilac ones, another coy smile on Astarion’s face. “See? It’s like I was made for you, my little knight,” he says, pulling on the paladin’s braid again purely for the feel of it, Quile whimpering again as he did so.
Quile doesn’t even notice the various noises he was making, only aware that he was moaning… a little loud, now and again, whimpering as he began to move, thrusting in and out of Astarion with a whine high in his throat. Astarion moans back at him, especially as Quile slowly drags his hands down his body, the drow’s long nails gently scratching him along their path, his finger pads digging into the vampire spawn’s hips.
“Yes,” Astarion purrs, squeezing his legs around Quile’s waist as the drow’s hips drive into him. “So good, darling. Good boy, fucking me so well,” he mutters, emphasizing his words by squeezing his insides around Quile, causing a loud whimper to escape him. “Gods, you sound so sweet. If only the others could hear you, they’d think our roles were reversed.”
Quile shudders at the thought, his eyes squeezing shut once more. He couldn’t imagine doing this in front of the others. By Eilistraee, how embarrassing that would be. He’s… a little confused by the heat that pools in his stomach around the thought of being embarrassed, adding that to the list of various things he needed to think further on. He casts the thought aside for now, instead focusing on the feeling of thrusting into Astarion, a shaky moan escaping him as the pale elf lets up on how tightly he was squeezing his muscles.
“C-close,” Quile whimpers, his pace increasing slightly. He opens one of his eyes again to be able to see Astarion, the vampire’s eyes currently closed, his head thrown back against the moss.
“Good. I’m– mmnh– ‘close’ too, darling. Don’t you dare stop,” Astarion mutters, a satisfied grin on his face. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Be a good boy and cum inside for me, won’t you?” he purrs once more, his hand not wrapped around one of Quile’s braids moving to graze his own fingers against his cock. Quile’s eyes follow the slow drag of him, a little hitch in his breath as he watches Astarion grab ahold of himself.
“Pretty,” Quile whispers, yet again unaware he had said anything. He is made aware of the cut-off moan that escapes himself as Astarion intentionally clenched around him, echoing his moan. The drow keens loudly, his hand’s grip on Astarion tightening as his thrusts’ pace became more erratic. He squeezes his eyes shut once more, hunching over– even he can admit the whine that comes from him sounds pathetic.
Astarion mirrors a moan, too, Quile feeling the vampire spawn’s body shift in place underneath him for a breath before he hears the sound of a bottle being opened. Quile opens his eyes in time to see Astarion pour oil on top of his erection, closing the bottle quickly before once again taking himself in hand once more. He curls the braid in his hand over his wrist once before tugging Quile forward again to where their lips were close to touching, Quile practically breathing into Astarion’s mouth. Their eyes meet, both of their pupils blown from lust.
“Cum for me,” Astarion repeats, sounding more like a growl than the sensual purrs he’s been letting out.
A choked-off moan escaped Quile as he buried himself as deep as he could into Astarion, his eyes shutting once more at how intense it felt. He felt his core tighten, his arms shake, and his cock throb , and then he obeyed– emptying himself inside of the vampire spawn. Quile whimpers through it, another shiver blazing through him as he collapses onto Astarion, moving to bury his head in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. After a breath, Quile both hears and feels Astarion orgasm, his hole clenching around him for a final time as a quiet moan escaped them both.
He feels Astarion relax underneath him, the vampire spawn’s hand letting go of Quile’s braid to simply rest in his hair while the other moved to wrap his arm around the drow’s back. Said drow did tense momentarily at the feeling of his arm against his back, purely because he was worried he could feel the scar that remained there. Quile relaxes at the lack of a comment, though, sighing into Astarion’s skin.
“You are perfect, darling,” Astarion whispers, head turning to kiss Quile’s forehead. “Did so well. Such a good boy,” he mutters, chuckling at the whine Quile lets out as a response. “Roll over for me? I’m sure you’re comfortable, but I’d prefer to lay against you.”
Quile raises his head, once again looking into Astarion’s eyes. A small smile appears on the drow’s face, nodding as he lets go of Astarion. Quile whimpers again at both the loss of contact– that he initiated, he’s quick to remind himself– and how his moving to roll onto his back had caused him to slip out of Astarion’s hole. The pale elf chuckles at him as a response, placing a hand onto Quile’s chest to remind him to lie flat.
Astarion crawls on top of Quile once the drow settles, lying to where Astarion could essentially take the position Quile was in before he moved, burying his face against Quile’s neck and simply breathing him in despite not needing to. Quile wraps both of his arms around Astarion’s hips, pressing a kiss into the high elf’s curls.
After that, they just… laid together. The moon shone directly onto the pair through the tree line, the two basking in its light together. They don’t speak during the time they spend awake, simply because they do not feel the need. It was a comfortable silence, broken by the shifting of Quile to rest a hand in Astarion’s curls in a similar fashion to how Astarion had simply kept his hand in Quile’s hand earlier. Quile sighed as he closed his eyes, a smile appearing on his face when he began to hear Astarion’s quiet snores.
When Quile manages to sink into his trance, it’s one of the most peaceful ones he’s had in his life.