Page 86 of Astarion

And then, of course, the hot water arrived.

Astarion went first again. The damage to his hands from climbing all those walls had already started to heal from the pig’s blood, and they didn’t sting at all when he lathered them with soap. That was good, given what he planned to be doing with them over the next few hours.

As much as he would have loved a good soak, he suspected that giving den Suriel time to stew was a poor idea. So he cleaned off quickly and thoroughly, then emerged, wearing the emerald green dressing gown, to find that den Suriel had already shed his armor. Astarion sat on the edge of his bed, drying his hair, aware that he was being watched and reveling in it.

The servants came with fresh water, and the paladin disappeared. Astarion finished with his hair and considered his next move.

Truly, there is only one way that this can end. And if I wait for the man to pick up on subtle clues, even I will die of old age before then. Perhaps the time for subtlety is over.

So when den Suriel emerged, clean and only slightly dripping, he found that Astarion had already slid between the sheets.

Of the aasimar’s bed. With the lover’s oil on the table next to him.

Astarion heard a sharp inhale and looked up with a lazy smile. “Well?”

Den Suriel took three long steps toward him. Astarion sat up, letting the blankets fall away.

And waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. “The gods have mercy,” the paladin said, and sank down beside him, closing his mouth over Astarion’s.

The gods might have mercy, but Astarion did not. He might have been gentle with a dying man, but not with one who was no longer dying. He slid his hands into that wealth of metallic hair and plundered den Suriel’s mouth until the aasimar pulled back, gasping.

“I shouldn’t want a vampire,” den Suriel said when he had the breath to speak.

“I shouldn’t want a paladin who’s sworn to kill me.” Astarion could smell his soap on den Suriel’s skin. It felt unexpectedly intimate, as if he’d marked the other man in some way. Can I keep him, Father? I’ve already handled him, and now the god won’t take him back…

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Everything. This. Us.”

The paladin huffed a laugh and rested his forehead against Astarion’s. “What do we do?”

“I can’t go anywhere until the sun sets. Do you suppose we could set aside the killing until then?” Astarion slid one hand down the back of the aasimar’s neck, over his collarbone, and down his chest.

“That—ah!—sounds like a very good idea.”

“Oh,” Astarion said, loosening the knot on the other man’s dressing gown, “I think you’ll find I’m full of good ideas.”

—

As it happened, Astarion had never bedded an aasimar before. Everything seemed to be correctly shaped and in the right places. The markings scattered down his chest and shoulders glittered like gold leaf in the candlelight.

He was a trifle startled when den Suriel knelt and took him in his mouth. Somehow, he hadn’t expected the other man to do that with such ease and enthusiasm. His body, well-trained beast that it was, knew what was expected of it and responded.

What a picture we must make, he thought, threading his fingers through den Suriel’s hair. Like an allegorical painting. Vice Seducing Virtue. Hedonism Having His Cock Sucked by Nobility. Gods, what I wouldn’t give for a working mirror.

The image was enough to bring him to the edge. “Gods!” he hissed as the heat of the aasimar’s mouth slid along his length. “Gods, Hells—fuck!”

When he opened his eyes, den Suriel was already reaching for the wine. “I must take back everything I said about seminary. Clearly it had its uses.”

Den Suriel laughed. “It definitely taught us ways to amuse ourselves.”

Astarion dropped back onto one elbow, watching the other man move around the room with careless grace. For a moment, he couldn’t imagine why the paladin had picked up his dressing gown, but then den Suriel draped it over the window, adding another layer to the curtains. “Hopefully this will keep out the light for a bit.”

“One hopes. It’s your turn now, and I would hate to suddenly burst into flames.”

“That would put a damper on the mood.”