Chapter Text
In retrospect, Astarion was surprised it took as long as it did.
From the moment he’d set foot in his dorm, he’d gone out of his way to make sure no one saw the scars on his back.
Hiding them from random Finder hookups wasn’t easy, but it was doable. He’d figured out if he left his shirt on - especially if he acted like he was so overcome with lust that he was going to explode if they didn’t f*ck right then - he was in the clear. He’d been asked, once or twice, why he still had his shirt on, and he was always able to shrug it off and distract his partner.
But it wasn’t easy, hiding them from a roommate who basically only left the room for class. Astarion figured out a system within a week or so; he always got changed in the bathroom after a shower, and thus, his secret had remained safe. He would change in the room on the rare occasions when Gale was at class or had gone out, but in general, the bathroom was where he would hide.
It was a good system. A near perfect system. A system that got utterly destroyed one warm spring afternoon, when Gale had left for class, and Astarion had decided to change clothes before going to the library.
He had JUST pulled his shirt off and tossed it into his laundry bag when the door swung open with no warning, revealing Gale.
“I completely forgot to grab my notebook, and - oh, sh*t,” Gale breathed.
Astarion was struggling violently with the t-shirt he had grabbed off his bed, spinning around and groping for the armholes desperately. He finally managed to tug it into place, his head popping out and giving him a perfect view of Gale, frozen in the doorway, a look of utter horror on his face.
“Astarion,” he started, his eyes wide.
“Don’t,” he hissed. “Don’t you dare.”
“But -”
“Shut the f*ck up, Gale,” he snapped, grabbing his backpack from the floor and his sunglasses off the dresser. “Move.”
A stunned Gale managed to shuffle a few steps to the left, and with his pulse pounding in his ears, Astarion shoved past him, nearly running down the hall to escape him.
f*ck, f*ck, f*ck -
He hurried into the stairwell, tears stinging his eyes.
You knew this would happen eventually.
Well. Yes. He had. That didn’t make it any better. The only person he’d willingly shown his scars to had been Minthara, and she’d literally helped bandage him up, so it wasn’t like they were a surprise to her.
WIth her, he didn’t mind.
He slammed out of the dorm, pushing his sunglasses down over his eyes, and stalked aimlessly in the direction of the quad.
He had no idea where he was going, and quite frankly, he didn’t care. He just needed to get as far away from Gale as possible right now.
You know this was your fault. You got careless.
He hissed in annoyance, swatting away the little voice in the back of his head. He knew damn good and well it had been his fault; there had been a reason he had spent the entire f*cking year getting dressed in the bathroom. He knew better.
f*ck.
He raked a hand back through his hair in annoyance, striding his way through the quad and dodging the knots of his fellow students sprawled here and there in the grass, soaking up the warm weather.
A few more minutes of walking, and he realized where he had been heading the entire time. He hadn’t consciously planned it, but it seemed his body’s autopilot had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. Needed. Wanted? Hells, he didn’t know anymore.
He looked up at Nocturne, sighing, and pulled his phone out.
Are you in your dorm?
He waited anxiously, tapping his fingers on his thigh, trying to not look like a total creep lurking outside the all-female dorm.
Yeah, why?
Can I come in?
Um, sure. I’ll come get you. Hang on.
Thanks.
He blew out a breath, trying to relax. Then another. He leaned against the concrete railing for the stairs leading to the door, waiting.
A few minutes later, the front door opened, and Jen peeked out, hair falling like a curtain around her, out of its usual braid for once. He attempted to give her a smile, walking up the stairs.
“Hey, Jen.”
“Astarion?” He could hear the questions in her voice, and he sighed, resigned.
“When we get upstairs,” he murmured.
She nodded, leading him towards the elevator.
“I was getting concerned they were going to call the campus police on me for loitering outside the all-female dorm,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Always a possibility,” Jen said, raising an eyebrow at him. The elevator dinged open, and they stepped in, leaning against the back wall.
Somewhere around the third floor, there was a gentle brush against his hand. He smiled a bit, relaxing the fist his hand was clenched into, and he could almost feel some of the tension melt out of him as Jen tentatively laced her fingers with his. He sighed, thumping his head against the back wall of the elevator, and squeezed her hand gently.
The elevator finally crawled to a stop, and Jen tugged at his hand, pulling him down the halls until they got to her room. She unlocked the door, leading him inside, and finally turned to look at him.
“Astarion?” she said softly, catching his other hand and squeezing it as well.
He heaved out a sigh, reluctantly letting go of one of her hands to take his sunglasses off and discard them on her desk before dropping his backpack next to the door with a thump. That done, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead against her shoulder.
“Okay,” Jen murmured, sliding her arms around him, one hand tangling in his curls and the other looped around his lower back. “It’s okay.”
She slowly backed up, eventually sitting down on her bed and pulling him with her. He still had his head on her shoulder, his face now buried somewhere in the sweet skin of her neck. Jen had moved on to gently rubbing his back, and he stiffened, pulling away.
“Not my back,” he whispered.
“Oh - okay. I’m sorry,” she said anxiously.
Astarion rubbed a hand over his face before blowing out a deep breath. “You didn’t know. I - I’m sorry to just - f*ck. I’m sorry,” he muttered, resting his face in his hands.
“Astarion - it’s okay,” Jen said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what is going on or why you’re here or why you’re upset, but it’s okay. You can sit here with me as long as you need to,” she said earnestly.
He nodded, his throat too tight to speak at the moment. Something in his mind seemed to snap, and he suddenly got to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of Jenevelle. She sat back on the bed, worry trickling over her face as she watched him.
“I need to show you something,” he finally said.
“Okay,” she said slowly, the worry on her face increasing.
“I - my pictures on Finder. They were old.”
“Okay…”
“Because - well - I didn’t -” Astarion stopped pacing, standing in front of Jen and shivering slightly. “I didn’t want people to see. Anyone I matched with, I - I made sure they didn’t -”
“Astarion, you’re starting to freak me out a little bit,” Jen said, eyes wide and searching.
He huffed out a breath, shoulders dropping in defeat.
Just - just show her -
“Astarion?”
He yanked his t-shirt off and spun around all in one fluid movement, standing in front of her and trembling violently.
Jenevelle sucked in her breath sharply, and he heard the sound of her getting to her feet behind him. Her fingers brushed over his shoulders, then down, down, featherlight across his back.
Astarion couldn’t stand it; he jerked away from her touch, spinning back around to face her. He gave her a watery smile as he moved to pull his shirt back on.
“Wait,” she murmured, catching his arm. “Please.”
He froze, watching her carefully, every nerve online and firing wildly in panic.
“I think you’re beautiful,” she whispered, before taking a step closer and sweeping him into her arms.
He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, really, but it certainly hadn’t been that.
Astarion rested his head on Jen’s shoulder, breathing her in, trying to steady himself. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight against her.
“Thank you,” he whispered, navigating his way through her hair to kiss her cheek softly.
She pulled back, hands still resting lightly on his shoulders. “Thank you for trusting me,” she told him, squeezing his shoulders before letting him go. She stepped back, not quite able to meet his eyes, fidgeting slightly.
Oh. Great.
“Sorry,” he muttered, pulling his shirt back on.
Jen looked up, eyes wide with alarm, and stammered, “Oh, gods, no, it’s not - it’s not you,” she said desperately. “It’s - f*ck.”
Alarm bells were starting to sound in Astarion’s head, and he eyed her closely. “Jen?” he asked softly.
She met his eyes, and the alarms in his head got even louder when he realized he could practically see the fear shimmering in hers.
Jen blew out a sharp breath, shaking her head. She finally whipped her shirt over her head, holding it tight to her chest.
Astarion frowned, perplexed for just a moment - and then his eyes went to the ladders of scars on her upper arms. Some were old, silver against her skin, but some were clearly more recent; they were red and puffy, standing out against the paleness of her skin. He reached out tentatively, stopping an inch or so away from her arm, a sick feeling slowly churning in his gut as he realized. Jen was visibly trembling, fear plain on her face, and he finally just reached out, pulling her into his arms. She exhaled a shaking breath, tucking her head under his chin, as he slowly ran a hand down her back.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “Scars don’t exactly bother me, love.”
Jen let out a sound that was half a sob, half a relieved chuckle, and she melted against him, clinging to him tightly.
“f*ck,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“It - it was just easier than -”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said softly, tangling his fingers in her hair.
She shivered against him, finally pulling back and wiping at her eyes. “You know,” she mused. “I have a bottle of wine I’ve been saving. And this seems like a good time to get it out.”
“Gods, I adore you.”
~~~***~~~***~~~
Astarion leaned back against the bed, bumping his shoulder against Jen’s. “Share,” he said, holding his hand out. She rolled her eyes, handing the bottle of wine to him. He took a long swig, nodding in approval. “That’s pretty good,” he said.
“Glad it meets your approval,” she said, sighing. She stretched her legs out over the charcoal-colored shag rug on the floor, wiggling her toes. She’d turned off the overhead light, opting to light the plethora of candles on her desk, and they threw exaggerated shadows onto the wall behind Jen as she moved.
He grinned at her, stretching his legs out next to hers. “We should do this more often,” he said.
“What, let you come hide out in my room and drink the wine I stole?”
“Wait, you stole it?”
“Well, yes,” she said, blinking innocently at him.
“I knew I liked you,” he said, tapping his feet against the rug. “I never asked,” he continued. “How in the hells did you end up with a single?”
She snorted, taking another drink out of the bottle of wine. “I had a roommate,” she said dryly. “She moved out within a month and they never gave me another.”
“Why did she move out?” Astarion asked, curious.
Jen heaved an exasperated sigh before saying, “According to her, I was a bitch-faced ice queen.”
He snorted with laughter, sprawling out across the rug. She poked him with a bare foot, trying to conceal a smile. “Don’t laugh at me!” she said, even as she started giggling.
“Bitch-faced ice queen,” he said, descending into full-out bellows of laughter. “Gods, what did you do to this poor girl?”
“Nothing!” she protested. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, patting her foot. “I’m sure.”
She sighed, taking another drink of wine and passing the bottle over to him. “I don’t get along with a lot of people,” she said.
He cut his eyes in her direction before taking a drink. “No sh*t.”
“Astarion,” she protested, poking him again with her foot.
“Sorry, darling,” he said, chuckling. “It’s just, I met you because you were busy not getting along with someone. I know you don’t get along with most people.”
“I don’t,” she said, studying the wall behind him intently. “I - gods. I…” she trailed off, raking a hand back through her spill of black hair.
He sat up, looking at her closely, all teasing gone. “What is it?” he asked her softly.
She finally looked at him, her shoulders slumping. “I wanted my own space for once,” she admitted.
Astarion waited, taking another long drink out of the bottle. In front of him, Jen shifted back and forth uneasily, chewing on her lip.
“I was in foster care from the age of sixteen,” she murmured. “It was always…loud. Crowded. No privacy. No security.”
“Oh,” he said, taken aback. “I - I’m sorry,” he finally said, scooting next to her and patting her leg.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “You didn’t know.”
He nodded, taking another swig out of the bottle, enjoying the way the edges of his mind were starting to blur ever so slightly.
Jen suddenly dove at him, burying her face against his chest. His arms came down to circle her automatically, a hand sliding back into her mass of dark hair.
“Stay?” she whispered. “Please? I don’t want -” She stopped, closing her eyes momentarily. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He nodded. “Sure. Have an extra blanket?” he asked, flopping down on the rug.
She rolled her eyes. “Astarion, you idiot,” she said, but there was no venom in it for once. She got to her feet, crawling into her bed and holding out a hand.
“Oh,” he said, blinking at her. “Right.” He clambered to his feet, sliding in beside her in the narrow bed.
She settled against him, her head on his shoulder, an arm around his waist. “No funny business, now,” she said, kicking him lightly in the shins. “I just...I didn’t want to be alone with my own thoughts.”
“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his voice low.
She nodded, her fingers tapping random patterns against his chest. “Astarion?”
“Hmm?”
“What happened?”
Well, that’s a loaded question -
“As in, what happened to make me come here or what happened to my back?”
“The first,” she said quickly. “I’m curious about the rest,” she admitted. “But I would never presume to ask.”
He chuckled a bit. “You sort of just did, love.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she protested.
“I know,” he said. They were quiet for a moment before he said, “I’ve successfully hidden my back from my roommate until a few hours ago.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “I take it he saw, somehow?”
Astarion nodded stiffly. “Yeah,” he said, his voice tight.
Jen looked thoughtful, her fingers now trailing patterns up and down his arm. “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “That must be upsetting when it’s not on your terms.”
“You could say that,” he grumbled. “I just - f*ck. I don’t like people seeing it,” he said quietly. “There’s very few people I’ve let see it willingly.”
“Thank you for trusting me,” she told him, patting his arm.
“Likewise,” he told her.
Her second question hung heavily in the air between them; Astarion was having a violent battle inside his own head over it.
Just tell her -
But I don’t want to THINK about it -
Minthara’s voice slid into his head again, reminding him that he needed to actually deal with things -
“My dad was an abusive piece of sh*t,” he blurted out suddenly. Against him, Jen went incredibly still, tilting her face up to look at him.
Astarion closed his eyes, trying to fight back the worst parts of himself before he spoke. “I made some mistakes my senior year of high school,” he started, his voice shaking slightly. “When it got back home, it didn’t go well,” he murmured.
He could still remember the way his stomach had plummeted that day when he’d walked in his front door and his father had immediately yelled for him to get the f*ck in the kitchen.
Astarion did, and the world slowed and spun in a dizzying fashion, because sitting at his dining table were his parents and Cazador Szaar. His father looked utterly furious, although that was generally his usual state. His mother had clearly been crying - which was her usual state - and Cazador looked for all the world like the cat who had just eaten the proverbial canary. He’d met Astarion’s eyes for just a moment, a triumphant gleam in his eye, and Astarion knew - he knew - what had happened. He knew.
And all he could do was slowly sink down into a chair and wait for his world to shatter around him.
“He - he liked to beat the sh*t out of me. Out of my mom. It had gotten really bad that last year, because I started getting in his way. He was still a lot bigger than me, but I was at least bigger than my mother,” he said bitterly, an endless stream of nightmares twisting through his mind. Of shoving his mother behind him, of seeing the look of utter shock and fear on her face the first time he’d dove in between them, screaming years of pain in wordless noises as he blocked her body with his own.
It wasn’t the first time he’d traded his body for something.
Jen was quiet, watching him with an unreadable expression on her face.
“That night, he started with a f*cking frying pan. I wasn’t expecting the first few hits,” he said, his voice distant. He tapped his forehead, indicating the thin scar there. “That was from the pan. He split my lip open badly too. The rest was just…it was bad,” he managed. “I was…I was really banged up, to put it mildly.”
“Astarion,” Jen whispered, her hand resting softly on the side of his face.
“And then - and then the f*cking thing broke. He hit me hard enough that the pan cracked apart and left him with a wooden handle still attached to metal. Really sharp metal.”
“Oh, gods,” gasped Jen, her eyes wide as she understood what had happened.
He closed his eyes, remembering his absolute fear, the way it had gripped his throat and refused to let go, once he realized. There’d been a moment where he’d thought - just for a moment - that it was going to be over.
And then his father had lunged at him. He’d turned to flee, but the handle caught him in the back, jagged metal catching the skin and ripping its way through his shirt as he crumpled to the ground.
He could still hear his mother screaming.
“Astarion?”
He fell back into himself, shaking his head. “You saw my back. So you know how it went,” he said bitterly. “He finally tired himself out and I staggered my way into the backyard and somehow managed to climb up into my treehouse; I guess I thought I would somehow be safe there. And I called Minthara. She was the one who called 911.”
“Oh, my gods,” said Jen, tears in her eyes.
“Yeah,” he said, watching flashing lights dance behind his closed eyes. He could still picture it, the way the lights had bounced off the walls of the treehouse, the way Minthara had flown down the ladder to direct the paramedics. The way he had passed out halfway down the ladder, falling the last few feet to the ground.
Silence, except for Jen’s sniffling.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she whispered, tightening her hold on him. “So sorry.”
He nodded, unable to speak.
They were quiet for several minutes; one of his hands had found its way to her hair and was combing through it idly, and she was tapping a foot lightly against his shin.
“I - I need to not think about that anymore,” he said, his voice shaking. “Can I just - out of curiosity, darling, why do you get along with me?” he asked, tugging a strand of hair gently.
She snorted against him. “Really, Astarion?”
“Indulge me and my need to change the topic,” he said, spiraling a piece of hair around his fingers and glancing down at her, momentarily distracted by the fact that he was so close he could see each speck of glitter in her eyeshadow.
“Because you’re as much of a diva bitch as I am,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Rude.”
“And, well. I don’t know. I see a lot of myself in you, I guess.”
He hummed thoughtfully, trying his hardest to fight the urge, but -
“I could see myself in you too,” he said, losing the internal battle of being appropriate.
“Oh, gods,” she muttered, kicking him firmly in the shin.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, trying to sound contrite.
“You are so not sorry,” she said, kicking him yet again.
“Ow!” he complained. “I couldn’t resist.”
“I know,” she said, exasperated.
There was another long pause, before she said, “I’ve never actually…” She paused, glancing up at him. “Never actually been with a man,” she finished.
“Oh really, now?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she murmured against him. “Several women.”
Her fingers traced down his chest slowly, and Astarion pulled in a deep breath, trying to weigh out the situation.
Finally, he said, “Well, darling, if you ever want to test the waters, I’m available.”
She sat up, looking down at him. “I f*cking hate you,” she finally said.
“I know.”
He sat up next to Jen, studying her face. The room was all shadows except for the light bleeding in from the streetlights outside her dorm and the handful of candles on her desk, and he could see the uncertainty all over her face.
Astarion finally reached out, cupping the side of her face in his hand. She melted into his touch, eyes drifting closed. He leaned closer, resting his forehead against hers and kissing the tip of her nose.
Her eyes shot open and she stared at him before starting to giggle. “Did you seriously just kiss my nose?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck. Jen sucked in her breath sharply, a hand coming out to rest on his shoulder as he slowly worked his way up the slender column of her throat.
Logic set in a moment later and he dropped back down to the pillow, stretching. She was still sitting with her eyes closed, looking completely confused when they fluttered open and she realized he’d laid down.
“It’s your call, Jen,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow and trying to ignore the fact that he was already half-hard. “If you want to, I promise I’ll take good care of you. If you don’t, I’m happy to just play with your hair and go to sleep. And I’m happy to leave if that’s what you’d rather,” he finished.
Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and she blinked rapidly at him. “If - if we - no strings attached?”
“Darling, as long as we stay friends, I could care less if we ever f*ck again.”
She was quiet, fingers drawing patterns on the sheets. Finally, she rolled away from him, groping at the drawer of her nightstand, rattling it open and sweeping a hand inside. A moment later, she dropped several condoms into his hand.
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Prepared, aren’t we?”
“Oh, gods,” she muttered, slapping his shoulder. “They hand them out like candy in the quad and I…kept a few in case.”
“In case what?” he asked, peering at the packages and selecting one before setting them down on the desk next to his side of the bed.
“In case I lost my gods-damned mind and decided to actually have sex with a guy,” she snapped.
“‘A guy?’”, he asked, forming air quotes in front of himself.
She glared at him. “With you.”
Astarion grinned at her. “Just checking,” he said lightly. With that, he reached out to her, brushing her bangs out of her eyes lightly. She shivered underneath his touch, swaying forward slightly.
He peered down at her questioningly. “You never told me what you wanted,” he said, tangling his fingers in her cloud of dark hair.
In response, Jen tugged at his shoulders, pulling him down on top of her. Her lips collided with his somewhat clumsily at first, but it only took a moment before she was nibbling at his lower lip and letting him explore her mouth with his tongue. Astarion sighed into her mouth, tongue leisurely stroking against hers, a hand tracing up and down her spine ever so gently. Jen hooked a leg around his hip, pulling him closer, and he heard her sharp intake of breath as she got her first feel of his hardness pressing against her. He rolled his hips against hers, a hand bracing her lower back, swallowing her little whimpers as he did.
“Oh, you like that?” he murmured, rolling his hips forward again, letting his co*ck press against her. One of her hands flailed about before grabbing his shoulder for stability, her eyes wide.
“Yes,” she managed, grinding down against him. It was his turn to gasp, his hands running down her back, fingers toying with the edge of her shirt. He slowly tugged at it, soft cotton gliding over her skin, before pulling it over her head completely. Astarion pulled his off as well, tossing both shirts to the floor. He let his hands trail across her waist before sliding up to cup her breasts, a hand moving behind her to expertly unclasp her bra and discard it. He ducked his head, pulling a soft pink nipple into his mouth, tonguing it gently while his fingers toyed with the other.
Jen moaned, her head falling back as she rolled onto her back. Astarion settled himself over her, moving across to her other nipple, plucking at the damp one he’d just abandoned with his fingers. “Gods,” she whispered, clutching his head to her, one leg drawn up next to him. He nudged her legs apart with his knee, pressing his leg in between her thighs and smiling as she clawed at his back, clearly requiring something to hold on to.
“Good?” he asked, making sure she was still okay before he pushed further.
In response, she grabbed the hand tickling at a nipple, guiding it down, down, down, sliding it under the waist of her pajama pants. He nibbled his way back up her chest, across her collarbone, before nearly biting her where the skin of her neck met her shoulder. Jen cried out, arching up against him, and Astarion took that opportunity to slip his hand into her underwear.
She was soaking wet; he moaned against her neck as his fingers slowly slid across her folds. Jen let out a yelp as he dragged his index finger across her cl*t, circling it gently several times before continuing down to press at her entrance. She buried her face in his neck, her breath hot against his skin, and he slid a finger inside her slowly. Jen gave a breathy moan, her hips bucking forward subconsciously, and he obliged by adding a second finger. She was hot and wet and soft as velvet around his fingers, and he groaned, capturing her mouth again.
Jen gasped, fingers tight against his shoulders. “Astarion -” she started, but he adjusted his hand slightly, letting his thumb rub circles around her cl*t while he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of her. “Oh, f*ck,” she whimpered, pulling his face to hers and assaulting his mouth enthusiastically.
Astarion kept stroking her, feeling her clench and tense around his fingers with every brush of his thumb against her. “Go ahead,” he whispered, breaking the kiss she’d trapped him in. “I know you’re ready. It’s okay. Come for me, love.”
Jen whined breathlessly, meeting his eyes for a moment before she said, “I really do hate you.”
“I know,” he murmured. “Now be a good girl and come for me.” Jen was holding her breath, tension coiled in every inch of her body before she shattered at his words, crying out and jerking violently against his hand, even as he gripped her hips firmly with his free hand, trying to keep her in place.
“f*ck f*ck f*ck -” she gasped, still twitching against him slightly when he finally withdrew his fingers. He met her eyes and slowly, deliberately, licked his fingers clean. Jen’s eyes widened nearly to the edges of her face, and she let out one last, “Fuuuuuuck,” as she watched him. He ran a hand down her bare back, curving over her ass before he smiled at her.
“What do you think, darling? Still hate me?” he murmured, leaning in to bite her earlobe. She sagged against him, forehead against his shoulder, breathing hard.
“Yes,” she grumbled. “You are such an asshole,” she finally said.
“I know,” he said, nibbling his way down her neck, marks blossoming on her pale skin as he sucked at it. “But you love me anyways.”
“Delusional,” she muttered, gasping as he bit at the tender skin of her collarbone. “Now make me come again,” she demanded, tapping her foot against his leg.
“Greedy little thing,” he whispered against her skin.
“You did promise you’d take good care of me,” she reminded him.
Astarion ghosted his hands down her body, fingertips barely touching the skin of her sides before gripping her hips firmly. “So I did,” he told her. “I’m trying to decide,” he said, licking a slow, trailing stripe up the side of her neck. “If I should make you come again with my mouth first or if you’re ready for my co*ck.” He punctuated that with a thrust of the aforementioned co*ck against her thigh, groaning quietly at the sensation.
“Whatever you want,” she said, her voice much higher pitched than usual.
“No, I believe it’s what you want,” he reminded her. “I am here to make you feel good,” he whispered, bending to take a pert, pink nipple into his mouth again, rolling his tongue around it. Jen keened, arms stretching above her head, body bowing up into his. He paused in his ministrations, blowing lightly on her now-wet nipple, causing her to grab for him, hips grinding up against him.
“f*ck,” Jen gasped. She shook her head slightly, almost as if she was trying to clear it, before she said, “Go down on me.”
Almost as an afterthought, she added, “Please.”
He chuckled, running his hands down her sides before hooking his thumbs under the waistband of her pants and tugging them down, taking her underwear with them. “With pleasure,” he said, kissing the newly exposed skin of her thighs. Jen gasped, shivering against him, and he sat back on his heels so he could admire her.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, a pale hand splayed across her stomach.
“I’m already going to f*ck you, you don’t need to get any of your lines out on me,” she said, glaring at him.
“It’s not a line,” he told her, eyes still floating up and down her body. She was beautiful, even more so in person; her skin was all peaches and cream, soft curves and gentle lines. He slid between her legs, hooking one knee up over his bare shoulder, a hand carefully spreading her open before him. Gods, she was beautiful everywhere, he realized; her folds were a perfect delicate pink, her cl*t covered by a tiny hood of shell pink, rosy lips slick with her wetness. “Beautiful,” he murmured, before leaning in to gently run his tongue along the fold between her cl*t and labia, repeating it on the other side.
Jen gasped, hands flying down to grip his silvery curls, a heel digging into the bed beside him as she squirmed. “Ah - Astarion -”
He circled her cl*t several times, finally flattening his tongue out and stroking up her folds, gratified when her spine arched off the bed as she moaned. “Oh, f*ck,” she gasped.
“Still hate me?” he breathed, resuming his circling of her cl*t, interspersed with slow, languid strokes. He slid a finger inside her, then a second, hooking them at a well-practiced angle.
“Yes - holy sh*t,” Jen gasped, fingers tightening in his hair and pushing him down between her thighs. “What - gods. Do that again.”
“Mmm, I’m not sure if I should,” he teased, giving her cl*t several quick flicks with his tongue. “Since you still hate me and all.” He pressed his fingers inside her, causing Jen to make a garbled whine that sounded something like “don’t you f*cking stop.”
He chuckled, his breath hot against her thigh, before twisting his fingers just right again. He did it once more, this time locking his lips over her cl*t as he did and sucking, and Jen grabbed for her pillow, stuffing it over her face and nearly screaming. He took that as a sign to keep going, and kept probing inside her with two steady fingers, teasing his tongue over her cl*t, occasionally sucking it into his lips, and the next thing he knew her heel was gouging into his shoulder, and the pillow was barely muffling her scream as she jerked forward into him, wetness dripping down his fingers.
He licked her gently a few more times before slowly withdrawing his fingers, admiring the wetness shining on his hand before sliding up next to her. He peeled the pillow off her face, leaning in to kiss her. Jen grabbed for him, whimpering, before she said, “What the f*ck did you just do to me?”
“Ruined you for all future lovers.”
“Well, sh*t,” she said, swatting at him. “Gods. That was amazing.”
“Mmm,” he agreed, grinding his painfully hard and neglected co*ck against her thigh. He’d been leaking steadily since the first time he’d made her come, and his boxers were damp and clinging to him hopelessly.
“Oh,” she said, a hand dropping to grip his length nervously. He closed his eyes, breathing fast, as she gave him a few experimental strokes.
“Can I…” she asked, tugging at his sweatpants. He nodded, wriggling out of them and his damp boxers, leaving them bare against each other. Jen slid her fingers around him, stroking him, swirling her thumb across the head of his co*ck, catching the precum gathered there and using it to stroke him. Astarion groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck as she continued to explore him, fingers gentle but insistent.
Jen finally paused in her stroking to pull his face out of her neck, kissing him slow and sweet before she tugged at him, pulling him on top of her. He lunged towards the desk, grabbing one of the condoms and rolling it on before settling against her, one forearm resting next to her head, fingers combing through her hair.
“You’re sure?” he asked her, studying those big green eyes carefully.
She nodded, hands on his shoulders.
He kissed his way along her jawline up to her ear, murmuring, “I’d like you to actually say it, please.”
“Yes,” Jen gasped. She adjusted herself beneath him so he was probing against her wetness, squirming at the sensation. “Please. Inside me.” He met her eyes for a moment before kissing her forehead, and slowly pressed in.
Jen sucked in her breath sharply; Astarion wasn’t sure what, exactly, she’d done before, but he could tell she was tight. He rocked against her slightly a few times, and then pushed forward all at once, sliding in much easier than he had anticipated due to how slick she was. Jen grabbed at his shoulders, eyes wide, gasping at the new sensations. He waited, holding himself still against her, feeling her heat surrounding him, and asked, “Good?” in a choked voice.
“I…” Jen rocked up against him tentatively, her mouth making an ‘o’ of surprise, and she moaned. “Yes,” she finally hissed, moving against him carefully, testing the waters. “Astarion?” she whispered.
“Yes, love?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit strained as he struggled to hold still.
Jen tightened her fingers against his shoulders, burying her face in the crook of his neck, before she whispered, “I don’t hate you.”
“I know,” he told her, kissing her temple. “I know,” he said again, voice fading out as he adjusted himself carefully against her.
He brushed her bangs out of her face gently, pressing his lips to hers in a searing, needy kiss, and started to move.
“Oh, gods,” Jen whimpered beneath him, her hands flailing around him before gripping his back, nails digging into his skin.
“There you go,” he murmured, rocking gently against her. She was raising her hips to meet him, finding the rhythm, her breath hitching and catching. “You’re doing so well,” he encouraged her. She whined, nipping at his neck, one foot hooking around his back.
Astarion put a little more force into his thrusts, watching Jen’s face carefully. “You’re taking me so well, love,” he panted, his lips against her ear. “Gods. So - f*cking - tight -“ he gasped, burying himself to the hilt in her, luxuriating in the feel of her heat surrounding his co*ck.
“Ah - Astarion -“ she whimpered, trying to rock up into him as he switched back into small, shallow thrusts. “Oh, gods,” she gasped, the hand on his shoulder gripping him firmly. “You feel so good,” she finally whispered, tugging at his hair just hard enough to make him moan.
“What do you think, darling, can I make you come one more time?” He slid a hand down between them, twitching his fingers against her cl*t and slowing to long, dragging thrusts.
“I - f*ck, Astarion - I don’t know - but - gods.”
Astarion chuckled, burying his face in the sweet-smelling bend of her neck, nibbling and biting at the tender skin there, and continued his slow, steady slides in and out of her, intent on unraveling her completely.
“Astarion?” she gasped.
“Hmm?” he asked, his mouth still occupied with her neck.
“Harder.”
He smiled against her skin, gripping her hips and pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back into her warmth. She yelped, one leg curling around him, the other twisting the sheets into helpless knots. He did it again, and Jen’s head tipped back as she moaned, low and guttural in her throat.
Astarion was close; he had been for awhile, and he was having to really concentrate on not coming yet. He pressed his fingers against her cl*t, rubbing circles around it, wondering if he could wrench a third org*sm out of her before he broke.
“Oh, gods -” she gasped, clinging to him as he kept up the harder, faster pace, the rickety frame of the dorm bed squeaking insistently underneath them. “Astarion - you’re going to make me - I’m -”
That was as far as Jen got before she let out a high-pitched keen, descending into a low moan as she spasmed around his length. He rammed into her a few more times before he followed her over the edge, groaning. Astarion collapsed on top of her for a moment and then thought better of it, carefully pulling out of her and dropping down next to her, trying to catch his breath.
She rolled her head in his direction, meeting his eyes, and then they were both laughing helplessly.
Jen smacked him on the chest, shaking her head.
“Ow! What was that for?” Astarion yelped, dodging as she attempted to slap his shoulder.
“You -” slap - “have -” slap - “RUINED -” slap - “ME.”
He started laughing, holding his arms up to fend off her slapping. “Darling, I did promise I would take good care of you.”
“I didn’t expect that,” she huffed, swatting him one last time for good measure. “Gods. You are such an asshole,” she grumbled.
“I mean, I could have just gotten myself off and rolled over and gone to sleep,” Astarion offered.
“Oh, f*ck you,” she said.
“I did.”
“Astarion.” That earned him another slap, this one to the side of his head.
He grinned at her, reaching over to run his fingers through her hair. “Well, I don’t know about you, darling, but I enjoyed myself.”
She huffed at him, glaring, and finally said, “Gods. I did too.”
“That physically hurt you to admit, didn’t it.”
“Yes, you asshole.”
He chuckled, still brushing his fingers through the thick silkiness of her hair. “Do you still want me to stay?” he asked.
“Astarion, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I already asked you to stay earlier. And we just finished f*cking. Yes, I want you to stay.”
Astarion shrugged at her. “I never assume, darling.”
She rolled towards him suddenly, burrowing into the hollow of his shoulder, tugging the fluffy black blanket up around them.
They were quiet for a minute, and Astarion finally said, “Are you good?” He kissed the top of her head, wrapping an arm around her.
Jen hummed against him happily. “Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” she said, chuckling quietly. “Gods.”
“Apologies, darling,” he teased, tapping his fingers down her back lightly.
She snorted. They fell quiet again for a minute, and Jen finally whispered, “I don’t hate you. At all.”
“I know.”
“Thank you for making sure it was a good experience,” she said, her voice so soft he could barely hear her.
He tightened his arm around her shoulder before kissing the crown of her head again, fingers trailing through her hair. He closed his eyes, and with Jen’s slight weight tucked against him, he slept.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Astarion woke up the next morning rather disoriented; he was crammed into a tiny dorm bed that was not his own, and it was still nearly dark outside. Next to him, Jen was curled up against him, her head tucked into the hollow of his shoulder, her hair a wild tangle of dark waves over his arm. He glanced down at her sleeping face, smiling a bit before he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He shuffled into a more comfortable position, pulling the blankets back up over them, and buried his face against her hair, breathing a sigh of contentment against her.
“Starion?” Jen murmured, still sounding half-asleep.
“Go back to sleep, love, it’s not even light out,” he whispered, brushing her hair back.
“Mmm,” she mumbled, rolling on top of him, her body pressing down into his insistently. He smoothed a hand down her back, cupping her ass, and groaned when he realized how hard he was.
Jen had apparently realized it too; she made a tiny noise of surprise as his co*ck twitched against her thigh. “Oh,” she said, a hand running down his arm.
“It’s got a mind of its own in the morning,” he grumbled. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What if I want to worry about it?” she asked, slowly grinding down against him, making them both gasp at the sensation.
“Your - f*ck, Jen, that feels good - call, love.” She was still grinding on his length, hands exploring his chest, his shoulders, his arms restlessly.
“Can I - like this?” she whispered, untangling herself from him enough to plant a knee on either side of him and sitting up slightly.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I am more than happy to let you do the work,” he teased her. He groped towards the nightstand, fingers snagging the foil of a condom package. He hesitated, then said, “Let me touch you, first?”
She flushed, ducking her head. “I…don’t think that will be a problem,” she said, catching one of his hands and guiding it down to the apex of her thighs. She was still balanced on her knees above him, and he slid his hand between them, groaning when he felt how wet she was.
“Gods, Jen,” he marveled. “I haven’t even done anything.”
She ducked her head more, hiding behind her hair. “I was having a very good dream, all right?” she grumbled.
“Oh, were you, now?” he asked, circling her cl*t slowly with his first two fingers.
She whimpered, rolling her hips down against his hand. “Yes,” she gasped.
“And what exactly were you doing in this dream?” he murmured, sliding his fingers down to press into her, his thumb against her cl*t. She moaned, rocking against his hand, slowly f*cking herself on his fingers.
“I was -” She stopped, gasping for air. “I was on top like this. But not your fingers,” she whispered, blushing again.
“I can stop if you want,” he offered, before starting to roll his thumb against her cl*t every time she rocked against it.
“Oh, f*ck -” she managed, picking up speed as she rode his hand. “Gods. Please don’t stop, you’re going to make me come -”
“Good,” he whispered, moving his thumb faster. Her breath caught, and then she shattered around him, falling down to his chest and moaning as she spasmed around his fingers.
Jen laid on his chest for a minute, trying to catch her breath, and Astarion ran his hands down her back before gathering her hair up and pulling it back slightly. She finally sat up, backing up somewhat and letting her eyes wander up his body. She reached a tentative hand out, gripping his co*ck, and gave him a slow stroke, her eyes flickering up to his face uncertainly.
“Is this - is this good?” she asked anxiously.
“Like this,” he said softly, covering her hand with his own and increasing the pressure and speed. “Gods, yes, like that -” he groaned, his head falling back as he let go of her hand, letting her take control. “Just like that,” he encouraged her. She kept stroking him, and Astarion finally groaned, reaching down to still her hand. She looked up at him, biting her lip, and he said, “If you keep that up, this will be over in the next minute.”
“Oh,” she said, looking rather proud of herself. He chuckled, groping for the condom and rolling it on before beckoning to her. She shuffled back up, positioning herself over him before gripping his co*ck with one hand, the other balanced on his chest. Jen slowly sank down, her eyes widening at the stretch and feel of it from this angle, while Astarion moaned, his hands on her hips to steady her.
“sh*t,” she whimpered, sliding down the last inch or two until she was resting on his thighs. “That - oh. That’s good,” she gasped.
“Very,” he managed, struggling to hold still. “Are you good?”
She nodded before giving an experimental roll of her hips, a hand on his chest, the other groping around until she found the hand on her side, clinging to it. She rolled her hips again, and this time her head tilted back, a throaty moan escaping her.
He gave her a minute to find a slow rhythm, and then started moving against her, drawing a string of curses from her. “Astarion - oh, f*cking hells -”
Astarion gave a breathy chuckle, sliding a hand between them and tweaking her cl*t every time she rolled forward.
Jen straight-up wailed as he did, her thighs clamping against him tightly, and she started moving faster, chasing her org*sm relentlessly. He could feel her clenching around him occasionally and he groaned, the fingers of his free hand digging into the soft skin of her hip.
“Come for me,” he pleaded, nearly begging. “Please, Jen, I’m about to come -”
That was apparently all she needed before she exploded, spasming violently around his co*ck as she fell forward onto him, wordless little whimpers and moans of pleasure streaming from her throat. The feel of her clenching around him undid him, and he pulled her close, his co*ck throbbing and pulsing inside her as he came.
Jen laid on top of him, looking vaguely stunned. He managed to brush her hair back so he could see her, smiling at the f*cked-out look on her face. “Come here, love,” he murmured, rolling them to the side so he could pull out of her carefully before disposing of the condom. That done, he flopped back down next to her, chuckling as she immediately attached herself to his side.
“That was really f*cking good,” she finally mumbled, patting his chest. “Really good.”
He kissed her forehead, brushing some renegade strands of dark hair out of her face. “It was really good,” he agreed.
“Can I go back to sleep?” she said, already sounding halfway there.
He chuckled, a wave of affection rolling over him as he looked down at her. “Absolutely,” he whispered, ducking his head to kiss her.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Jen was pressed against him, her breathing deep and steady within minutes as she fell into a sound sleep.
Astarion wasn’t so lucky.
What the f*ck are you doing?
He sighed, staring up at the ceiling of Jen’s room, an arm still wrapped around her. Some part of him felt like he had made some sort of terrible mistake; another part was still feeling nothing but post-sex bliss. He had a peculiar feeling he’d used her, somehow, to distract himself, and the more he considered that, the worse he felt.
Then again, she’d agreed to no strings attached.
And yet - there was something in the way she was wrapped around him, in the way she’d yielded to him so completely that - well, quite frankly, it did things to him.
He felt wanted. He felt needed. And gods, if that wasn’t the most potent combination in the world to him.
I am so f*cked.
