Chapter Text
Gale woke up way too early. So early that Astarion, a natural earlier riser due to his biological lack of need for traditional sleep, was still trancing beside him. Gale squinted into the pitch-black room and craned his head to look out the windows, finding only the barest wash of blue diffusing up from the horizon. He yawned, stretched his legs beneath the summer quilt, and tried his best to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, his mind was buzzing with a heady mix of excitement and anxiety, and instead of drifting back to sleep, he found himself blindly blinking up at a darkened ceiling.
Astarion had said yes to Gale asking him out.
He had said yes.
They were going to go on a date together, after the trip, once they were home.
Visions of the night before flooded Gale’s mind—the way Astarion’s curls had looked splayed on the pillow as Gale fucked him, the way his eyes crinkled when he had laughed with joy at Gale’s bumbling date invitation, the way his voice had cracked and gone silent with strain when he had orgasmed.
But there was worry there too, in Gale’s head. There always was. He had finally started therapy a few months before the trip after the repeated insistence from Jen had gotten too annoying to ignore and had found it— shockingly —to be quite helpful. Gale had always been somebody that thrived when presented with the opportunity to learn something, and framing the building of self-insight as a personal research project with no deadlines or funding requirements had been a brilliant move on his therapist’s part.
So he knew he got anxious, sometimes.
But usually it was about absurdly mundane things. If he had locked his apartment door. If he should go ahead and fill up his gas tank even though it was only half empty because what if he got stuck somewhere. If his shirt was weird.
But this anxiety was about something so much more important than any of that. It was about if he was good enough for Astarion, good enough for him to stay interested in Gale for more than one measly date. Sure he had agreed to go to the planetarium, but what if he got bored? What if Gale couldn’t keep his interest past the initial high of this whole “sneaking around in Montana” thing?
A few more moments of that sort of mental self-flagellation and Gale realized he definitely was not going to be able to fall back asleep despite the stupidly early hour. He quickly glanced over to Astarion to confirm if he was still in full trance (he was) and then he slipped out of bed as quietly as possible. There was a slight grumble and a fidget from the elf as the half-awake part of his brain registered Gale’s departure but he quickly settled back into his rest when Gale padded over to the bedroom door and slipped out.
The cabin was silent and rather cold in the early morning. Dark, too. Gale turned his phone flashlight on and stared down at his feet as he walked, paranoid that he would trip over something and wake the entire cabin up. He passed down the stairs and into the kitchen, mindful of keeping his steps quiet on the hardwood.
The familiar clicking and dripping noises of the coffee maker were surprisingly soothing, as was the rich smell of the coffee itself as he poured himself a mug. He debated sitting at the kitchen island or on the living room couch to drink it, but a glance at the clock and then another out the window confirmed that sunrise wasn’t far off, so he decided sitting outside in the crisp air to watch it was a better course of action. He was halfway to the back door of the cabin when he remembered the little private balcony off the master bedroom.
From a purely logistical perspective, both decks would offer the same view (as one was directly over the other), but Gale quite liked the idea of having a little private slice of the cabin all to himself.
Well, himself and Astarion.
He turned away from the back doors and back towards the stairs, mind make up.
Cracking open the master bedroom door revealed everything to be exactly as he left it, so he silently crossed the room and unlocked the French doors. The one he opened squeaked a bit when it swung, which wasn’t ideal, but Astarion seemed to be unbothered by the noise. Gale was met with a wave of cool, fresh air that smelled of grass and wildflowers as he stepped outside and sat down into one of the Adirondack chairs.
The bison weren’t visible anywhere yet but Gale guessed they would be around at some point. The prairie was quite still, overall, but lilting calls from unseen birds increasingly filled the air as the sky continued to gently lighten. In the distance he could see a little cluster of tall prairie grasses rustle as something tumbled around in them. A fox, perhaps, netting itself a hare or a vole? Gale hoped for the fox’s sake it was the former. He couldn't imagine going through all the trouble of hunting only for one’s meal to be so small.
The blue in the sky was shifting, growing and lightening, and the soft undersides of puffy clouds were becoming visible as the growing light dusted them lavender. Gale took a sip of his coffee and watched the outlines of shrub bushes grow orange and the clear surface of a distant stream sparkle with yellow ripples.
Gale jumped, nearly spilling his coffee. He turned to see Astarion rubbing at his eyes with one hand and closing one of the doors behind him with the other—the one Gale hadn’t opened earlier, and the one that didn’t squeak, apparently.
Gale rolled his eyes and held out his mug towards the little grabby-hand motions Astarion had started making once the door was closed. “Good morning to you too.”
“Mhmm,” Astarion hummed. He rounded the chairs and sank down in the free one as he sipped at the steaming mug. “Urgh, this is so bitter.”
Gale scoffed. “No it isn't! It’s perfect.”
Astarion frowned down at the mug and then shoved it back towards him. “Bitter.”
“It has some milk in it,” Gale shot back, clutching the mug before it could tumble from Astarion’s weakening grip. “That’s enough for me.”
“Just milk?”
Gale squinted his eyes and took a sip. “Yeah?”
“Gross,” Astarion deadpanned.
“Oh? And how do you take your coffee then, princess?”
Astarion bristled and looked down to pick at his nails with a raised eyebrow. “Well for starters, I don’t know what you consider to be “some” milk but whatever you put in that barely constitutes. There should be at least, like, triple that amount. Quadruple, even, since it’s regular milk and not cream.”
Gale huffed a laugh and nodded at him to continue.
“But more importantly,” Astarion continued, “there needs to be something sweet in there. Preferably hazelnut syrup, but seeing as we don’t have any of that in the cabin, plain sugar would suffice.”
“Oh?” Gale replied, smirking despite himself, “and how many sugar packets would you put in this, then, to make it drinkable?”
Astarion considered for a moment before shrugging. “Five? Six, maybe?”
Gale felt his eyes grow wide. “Astarion,” he started, doing his best to keep the budding horror from his voice, “You’re telling me in one cup of coffee you would put four servings of milk and six sugars?”
Astarion looked up from his nails then and shot Gale a challenging look. “I would, yes.”
Gale carefully set his mug down on the little table between their chairs so he could use both his hands when he leaned over to grab Astarion’s nearest forearm. “I think we might have to have an intervention.”
Astarion leapt to his feet and pointed an accusatory finger at Gale. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Gale, in turn, stood and took a step towards Astarion, crowding him into the corner of the deck. “Oh I would.” Astarion scoffed, and Gale took another step forward. “If what you are saying is true, Astarion, then it sounds like you routinely commit heinous crimes against that most delectable of morning drinks and I, for one, cannot stand idly by and watch it happen. Something needs to be done.”
Astarion was scowling at him but the corners of his mouth were twitching in a clear indication that he was fighting a grin. Gale watched his eyes dart to the side and he held out his arms to cage Astarion firmly into the corner before the elf could make a dash for it. The second Astarion moved he was on him, pulling him into a firm embrace and pressing him into the dark-stained railing. Astarion gave a high pitched little squawk and giggled as Gale tried to lean in to press firm kisses against his jaw.
“You’re terrible,” he groaned, wiggling in Gale’s grip. “Go back to drinking your dirt water and leave me alone.”
Gale hummed and shook his head against Astarion’s neck. “Mmm…no. Don’t think I will.”
He reached around and down to cup Astarion’s ass through his soft cotton joggers and pull their hips flush. He was unsurprised to find Astarion half-hard already and he tilted his head to run his tongue along the shell of Astarion’s ear, earning himself a low whine.
“You’re much more delicious than coffee, anyway,” he whispered. Astarion huffed and shoved halfheartedly at his shoulder.
“I should never have said yes to that date,” he muttered through a half-smile, “I’ve created a sap monster.”
Gale stood to his full height and met Astarion’s eyes with a raised eyebrow. “So you’re saying you don’t want to neck me in a darkened planetarium, then?”
Astarion lifted his chin and pretended to think for a moment before letting out a dramatic sigh, as if conceding was tantamount to accepting some great burden. “No, I do want that, unfortunately, and I already told you yes. I am a man of my word, Gale.”
“Uh huh.”
They moved forward at the same time, immediately falling into a deep, searching kiss. Gale slotted their legs together and reached around Astarion to grip the railing with both hands and use it as leverage to grind his hips forward.
They went on like that for a while, moving together in the growing light.
Gale periodically cracked an eye open to check the progress of the sunrise, not wanting to miss it despite the otherwise generally more stimulating source of entertainment currently pressed into him. The sun wasn’t quite visible yet but Gale guessed it would be soon from the pink glow cresting the tops of the mountains and the prismatic spray drenching the prairie in color.
He pulled back just enough to speak against Astarion’s lips.
“Can I fuck you?”
Astarion nodded and moved like he was trying to walk away from their embrace. Gale gripped his hips and shook his head.
“No…out here?”
Astarion pulled back further and laughed. “How positively naughty. I’m surprised, Gale.”
“No one else is awake,” Gale replied with a shrug, “And it’s not like the prairie dogs are going to care.”
Astarion snickered and then pushed Gale back again with a bit more force. “Fine, but we need lube. I’ll be right back.”
Gale let him go and leaned his hands against the railing to watch as the first sliver of sun began to peak above the horizon. He smiled and turned his head to watch Astarion through the glass of the French doors as he fumbled through the bedding, presumably looking for the little bottle they had apparently haphazardly tossed somewhere the night before.
Then, from below, came the sound of the main deck doors opening.
“Gods, would you look at that!”
It was Karlach.
Gale froze. Inside, Astarion had resorted to throwing the quilt fully off the bed to root through the sheets.
“Gorgeous,” came the replying voice of Jen. “Perhaps the best sunrise I’ve ever seen!”
Gale carefully stood fully upright and took a step back from the railing. He wasn’t entirely sure why—it wasn’t as if he wasn’t allowed to be up here, on the private balcony of his own room, looking at the same sunset as his friends. And he wasn’t doing anything inappropriate by just standing there, waiting for Astarion to—
Gale held up his hands, palms forward, as Astarion walked back toward the doors with the lube held triumphantly above his head. He froze mid-step and tilted his head in question. Gale moved one hand to his lips, finger raised, indicating that Astarion should be quiet as he slowly reached forward to open one of the French doors (the one that didn’t squeak) and gestured for Astarion to come outside. Gale carefully shut the door behind him and kept his finger to his lips while he shot a pointed glance down toward the deck floor.
“All sunsets are equivalent to me,” Lae’zel’s voice came from below. “They are simply refractions of light. Nothing to lose one’s head over.”
Astarion met Gale’s wide eyes with his own. In response, Gale bit his lip, not sure how to proceed.
“You can’t truly believe that, Lae’zel,” Wyll’s voice answered. Gale heard one of Lae’zel’s signature scoffs in response and then there was a grand shuffling noise as the group— all four of their friends, apparently—settled onto the patio furniture below.
Astarion leaned forward and pressed his lips against Gale’s ear. “Why are we being quiet?” he whispered. Gale hesitated, which was the wrong move, because Astarion continued, his teasing tone clear even through such hushed words. “Were you hoping to continue right along with your plan Gale? Did you still want to fuck me out here?”
Gale let out the deep breath he had been unaware he was holding. Heat was flooding his cheeks.
“You do, don’t you, naughty boy?” Astarion continued. “You want to fuck me out here with our friends just below us.”
Gale shook his head.
“No!” he whispered back, mindful of his volume but injecting every bit of incredulity he could into the word. “That’s…that would be so wrong, Astarion.”
He felt more than heard the answering snicker.
“And jerking me off in the back of the van was okay?” Astarion replied. “Letting me lick your cum off my knuckles while all our friends were mere feet away from us was okay?”
Gale swallowed thickly. “I…”
Below them, their friends were chattering away, commenting on the beauty of the morning and the smell of coffee that had woken them up.
“If none of us made it then it must have been either Gale or Astarion,” Wyll commented. There was a pause and then he continued. “What, Jen? What’s that face for?”
“You know perfectly well, what,” she replied archly. “A bit suspicious, no? One of them makes coffee and then disappears back upstairs with it?”
A peal of laughter from Karlach. “What’s so weird about that, Shads? They got a whole deck up there to themselves, don’t they?”
An icy rush zipped down Gale’s spine, contrasting sharply against the warmth of the body pressing into his chest. Astarion’s eyes had narrowed from shock to some sort of disconcerting predatory intent and at some point he had brought their fronts back together.
“Well I don’t hear anything up there, and I assume they would have said ‘hi’ by now if they were, in fact, outside right now,” Jen replied. There was a beat of silence as if the group were waiting for a reply from either Gale or Astarion. When none came, she continued. “So, logically, it means they’re enjoying the coffee together…in their room.”
Astarion was kissing his neck now, licking over his fluttering pulse as Gale tried to calm the rush of anxiety he was feeling. A glance to the side revealed the sun almost fully above the horizon, a razor’s edge sliver still kissing the earth.
“And?” Karlach replied, incredulous. “What, you saying friends can’t drink coffee together?”
There was an exasperated huff from Jen. Gale imagined her silently gesticulating in the air.
“Jenevelle means to imply that they are engaging in some sort of sexual activity,” Lae’zel replied in a deadpan. It was Karlach’s turn to scoff, this time, although it came out more like a guffaw.
“No way!” she half-yelled, “D’ya really think? But when—”
“Not sure,” Jen replied smoothly. “But something has been… up between them, recently.”
Gale pulled his head back enough from Astarion’s searching mouth to shoot him a panicked look. Astarion raised an eyebrow in response and reached down to cup at Gale’s erection. “Deny it all you want,” he whispered, “but this doesn’t lie. You like the danger of this, don’t you?”
Gale opened his mouth to reply and closed it again a moment later.
“You were excited about what happened in the van,” Astarion continued, eyes sparkling with mischief and the early morning sun, “It wasn’t just that I was coming on to you, was it? There was something about the risk of being caught that made it that much more exciting, no?”
His mouth was too dry. He couldn’t get his words to work.
“I noticed something too,” Wyll stated from below, and Gale had to bite back a hiss when Astarion’s fingers squeezed around his cock through his sleep pants. “Gale was definitely acting weird yesterday…well, weirder than normal.”
Astarion smirked at that and Gale shot him a glare that was immediately replaced with a near-silent open-mouth groan that he barely managed to contain as cool fingers dipped below the waistband of his pants. He had opted to sleep without underwear beneath them…a choice he was now regretting.
“Seemed normal to me,” Karlach shot back, “And when would they have had the time, anyway?”
Astarion pulled his waistband down over his ass and let the fabric drop to pool on the deck boards. He looked up to meet Gale with a wicked grin before beginning to sink to his knees. Gale grabbed frantically at his shoulder and shook his head. In response Astarion paused—Gods bless him—and tilted his head in question.
“You said you heard some shuffling in the back seat, didn’t you?” Jen asked. “I hesitate to suggest it, but perhaps…”
Karlach cackled and there was a thumping sound like she had slapped someone on the shoulder. “No fucking way! Trust me, Shads, I would have heard it if they’d been up to any kinda hanky panky back there, okay?”
Gale was frozen, fingers clinging to Astarion’s shoulder like a life line. He didn’t have to look down to know how the soft morning rays of the Montana sunrise were glinting off the head of his achingly hard dick. He stared into Astarion’s eyes, helpless, and watched as the elf raised a teasing eyebrow and stood back to his full height.
“Well I stand by that they’re up there right now doing something sexual together,” Jen concluded primly. “And good for them, may I add. I was getting sick of seeing them dance around each other all the time.”
Something about that statement tickled at the back of Gale’s brain but any ability to process her insinuation oozed right out of his ears as Astarion pressed the bottle of lube into his hands and then turned to brace himself against the back of one of the Adirondack chairs. Gale watched lamely as Astarion looked back over his shoulder and reached down with one hand to pull at one of his cheeks, exposing his hole to the fresh morning air.
“Go on, then,” he whispered.
Gale bit his lip and stared down at the invitation. “Astarion…”
There was a round of laughter from below. Gale couldn’t make out what they were saying. He looked back up to Astarion’s smug face and whatever remained of his self-control dissolved.
Gale’s hand shook but he nodded and uncapped the bottle delicately, trying his best to make no noise as he squirted out a generous amount and stepped closer to bring his hand to Astarion’s ass. He was still a little loose and just a hint swollen from the night before, and Gale could tell there was a touch of soreness when Astarion let out a soft hiss at the first press of his fingers.
“This okay?” he breathed. Astarion glanced up at him and nodded.
“Yeah,” he replied through a half-bitten lip. “Bit sore, but I still… mmm. Still want it.”
Gale nodded and got to work prepping him fully, briefly losing himself in the feeling of Astarion on his fingers. He had nearly come down from the anxious spiral he had been in, too lost to the moment, before an excited shout from below startled him back.
“The bison are here!”
Sure enough, in the distance, the beginnings of a herd was cresting over the horizon just below the rising sun, their shuffling forms resplendently outlined in gold. Astarion looked up then too and paused, letting out what sounded like an awe-filled breath. Gale smiled at the reaction and tried to tamp down the little spike of anxiety the reminder of their location gave him.
Suddenly Astarion was pulling away from him and walking around the chairs to lean his crossed forearms on the far railing. He glanced back over his shoulder just long enough to whisper, “Gale, look!” before turning back and bending at the waist to rest his chin on his folded arms. His feet were set in a wider stance than one might expect of a sightseer, and Gale could tell he was canting his ass and hips back and up a bit to better show himself off.
Gale rolled his eyes at the clear bait and took it despite himself, stepping forward and running a hand down the length of Astarion’s back.
“Slut,” he whispered. Astarion huffed a laugh and wiggled his hips.
There was some rustling from below them as at least one person stood up. Gale held his breath, trying to listen for further cues, but Astarion had started to grind the slick cleft of his ass against Gale’s cock and he was quickly losing the ability to focus on anything else.
“Can someone take a picture of me with them in the background?” Jen’s voice asked, earning a murmur from the group at the decided who would take it (except Lae’zel, who commented that they had already taken enough pictures the day before and that it was foolish to waste any more cloud storage space on the “same animals you photographed before”.)
Astarion was trying to reach behind himself to grasp at Gale’s dick but the close press of their bodies was making it difficult. Gale reached a hand up to grab at his curls and tipped Astarion’s head back so he could better reach his ear to whisper directly into it. “Jen’s walking to the edge of the deck.”
“So?” Astarion breathed. From his angle, Gale could make out the corner of a smirk.
“So, she’ll see your arms over the edge of the railing,” Gale replied, trying to sound admonishing but somewhat failing given the low volume.
Astarion shrugged against Gale’s chest. “Not necessarily. Not if she doesn’t look straight up.”
Gale bit his lip, considering.
It was risky. Very risky.
But then that’s what had gotten him into all of this, wasn’t it? Being turned on by the risk of it all? If he were honest with himself—actually, really honest—Astarion hadn’t been wrong about that first encounter in the van. The danger had been part of it.
And, really, what was the worst that could happen? If Jen did look up all she would see would be Astarion’s folded arms and an unflatteringly low-angle view of his face. She wouldn’t have any reason to think anything untoward was happening. Although she would probably also be able to tell that Astarion was shirtless, and if she then walked a few further steps out past the edge of the deck then she would be able to see more, and then—
Gale’s cock slipped inside and Astarion let out a triumphant little noise, letting go of the base that he had finally managed to grab and maneuver while Gale was distracted with his ruminations. He cut off a gasp at the sudden heat and tightened his grip on Astarion’s hair.
“Can you see them well enough?” Jen’s voice came from what sounded like the space directly below them. Karlach—the enlisted photographer, seemingly—gave an affirmative and then some suggestions for poses. The group started laughing as Jen apparently moved to make it look like she was holding the distant herd in the palm of her hand.
“Move,” Astarion hissed, grinding his hips back as much as could given the angle.
Gale clenched his jaw and gave a slow, tentative thrust, careful to not let his thighs slap against the back of Astarion’s. It earned him an annoyed grumble and a twitch of Astarion’s hips.
“Fucking move more,” he ground out, slightly louder than before, and Gale frowned. The horny idiot was going to get them caught if he kept that sort of volume up.
“Be quiet,” Gale hissed, pulling Astarion’s head back by the hair more firmly to show he meant business.
That was the intention, anyway, but unfortunately it just spurred Astarion on further. A choked-off moan rumbled from the long line of his arced neck and Gale watched as he visibly swallowed to keep down another. Gale snapped his hips forward and was met with a choked gasp.
“Fuck, Gale, right there.”
It was said slightly above a whisper. Far too loud.
Right. Well desperate times called for desperate measures.
Gale leaned back just slightly to give himself room and brought the hand not threaded through platinum curls up and around to cover Astarion’s mouth. He was still close to Astarion’s ear, close enough to barely breathe his words and be heard, so he repeated himself as firmly as he could in a whisper. “I said be quiet, Astarion.” He gave another thrust, firm and deliberate.
There was a playful nip of teeth on his palm.
Gale sighed.
He twisted his hand and shoved three of his fingers into Astarion’s mouth instead, pressing them down onto the elf’s tongue to hold it still.
“Stop being a brat,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Be fucking quiet or we’re going back inside.”
Astarion whined around the fingers in his mouth and twitched his head in what Gale assumed would have been a nod if he wasn’t being held in place so firmly by both of Gale’s hands. Satisfying that he had the elf successfully mollified, Gale increased the pace of his thrusts, knowing that without Astarion’s external interference he could move quickly enough to be pleasurable for them both but slow enough that it would be silent to those below.
“Me next!” Karlach yelled, and Jen laughed. There was more shuffling as they swapped places. Gale could hear the squeak of Karlach’s high topped sneakers as she rocked on the balls of her feet in excitement. “Oh can you do one where it looks like I’m holding up the sun?”
“Sure,” Jen laughed. “Just move over a bit…yep, right—no, not, uh, back where you were, yep!”
Astarion’s tongue was hot and wet beneath the pads of his fingers and Gale could feel his warm breath huffing down over his knuckles from his nose, sharp and panting between every bump of their hips. Gale loosened his grip on Astarion’s hair and rubbed little soothing circles into his scalp where he had been gripping him.
“Doing okay?” he breathed. Astarion nodded—more freely this time, now that he was able—and Gale ran the hand down his back and over the swell of his ass to grip the top of one thigh. He started to slip his fingers from Astarion’s mouth, hoping that the elf had enough self control not to need them, but the second they began to pull away he let out a long, low groan so Gale shoved them back in with a soft huff of both annoyance and affection.
“We should get a group picture,” Wyll announced from below, “At least of the four of us.”
“I can go knock on the boys’ door,” Karlach offered in response, “It’d be a shame to not include them. Maybe they’re, uh…done?”
There was a beat of silence. Gale bit his lip in anticipation and took a moment to grind back and forth a little pressed close against Astarion’s ass.
“We should give them time,” Jen responded delicately, “Potential awkward interruptions aside, I’m really rooting for them, y’know? I think they should have some space to…well. To be together.”
“By definition they will be together if they are within the larger group,” Lae’zel added (very helpfully). There was a collective groan from the group below and, from above, a finger-muffled groan from Astarion as Gale resumed his previous rhythm.
“Gmmml.”
Gale stared down at the back of Astarion’s head and smiled. “What was that?”
“Ghhl!” Astarion repeated, trying his best to speak around the fingers. Gale pulled them back a bit, leaving the tips hooked onto Astarion’s bottom lip but freeing up his tongue.
“—aale,” Astarion tried again.
Gale managed to stifle his laugh and asked again, voice innocent. “Can’t hear you, Star.”
There was a low, frustrated growl from Astarion and then suddenly he was standing and trying to spin in Gale’s grip. He let go, allowing Astarion to face him with a glare.
“I was clearly moaning your name,” Astarion spat out without any real heat, “I don’t know what was so Godsdamned confusing about—oh.”
Gale raised an amused eyebrow.
“You teasing little bitch.”
He was being pushed back and down, lowered into one of the Adirondack chairs and then awkwardly climbed on top of. The tilt seat meant a lack of a level surface for the grumbling elf to perch on and the angled armrests left no room for Astarion’s knees as he tried to straddle them to either side of Gale’s hips.
“Fucking hells, ugh. Fucking chair, fuck—”
He tried to help maneuver but it quickly became apparent that it was hopeless. Astarion stood with a huff and glared down at the armrests like they had personally offended him.
It was, Gale thought, quite adorable.
There was a collective peal of laughter from the group below that caught his attention. A squeal of surprise that sounded like it came from Jen was followed by a shout that sounded nearly like a war cry from Karlach, and then the pounding of feet against deck boards like one was chasing the other. It continued past the point directly below them and further, out towards the grass.
“Astarion, we should move, they—”
He was cut off by a sudden lapful of elf, facing forward this time. Astarion glanced over his shoulder and smirked.
“We simply must stop meeting like this, Gale.”
Gale shot him a look and tried to push him off, but the slanted angle of the chair gave him little leverage. Astarion lifted himself up by pushing down on the (apparently forgiven) armrests and shifted to hover over Gale’s cock.
A beat of stillness passed between them. Gale heard Jen and Karlach run out onto the grass. He couldn’t see them from this angle, low to the ground as he was, and he assumed Astarion couldn’t either. There still could be an eyeline, though, if the two women moved far enough away from the house and looked up at them. Gale took a deep, steadying breath, trying to decide what to do.
“Well?” Astarion huffed, “Put it in, Gale, I can’t use my hands right now.”
“This is getting too dangerous,” he replied shortly, “They will see us if they keep running out in the field like that.”
Astarion sighed dramatically and wiggled his ass midair. “Darling I don’t care I just need you back in me. Now.”
Gale bit his lip and looked down at his own erection, straining against his stomach and begging to be touched. A drop of lube from Astarion’s ass landed halfway down the shaft and slid downward, sparkling in the morning light.
“Fine.”
The second he guided the tip where it needed to be, Astarion was sinking down again, sitting with his full weight in Gale’s lap.
“Oh fuck,” he breathed, “Gods, you’re deep.”
“I can’t—” Gale cut himself off as he tried to thrust upwards, thighs utterly useless pinned below Astarion and tilted back at the angle they were. “You’ll have to move for us.”
Astarion spread his legs a bit wider to either side of Gale’s knees, digging his heels into the ground, and clutched at the armrests. “I have to do everything around here,” he grumbled.
“Astarion that is blatantly not—oh fuck.”
It was everything he had wanted to do to Astarion in the van, feeling the warmth of his body surrounding and squeezing him as he desperately held onto grinding hips. There wasn’t much vertical thrusting that could occur like that, but it was fine with how much friction there still was between them. Astarion leaned back and braced his shoulders against Gale’s chest for more leverage, using his core to bounce himself up and down. He tucked his face against Gale’s neck and sucked at the skin.
“Ah, Ast—”
“Can I leave a hickey now?” Astarion asked, then in a sickly sweet voice made breathless, added, “Please?”
Gale nodded frantically, too far gone to consider the consequences. Astarion bit down and held himself there, working the skin between his teeth as they moved. Gale slid his eyes shut, overwhelmed, and rocked up into Astarion’s heat as well as he could. A bolt of inspiration hit and he reached around to pull at Astarion’s cock, trying his best to keep in time with the rhythm of Astarion’s hips but only half managing to keep up as he increasingly lost the ability to do anything but sit back and be ridden senseless.
Somewhere out in the prairie, Jen squealed with joy and taunted Karlach to catch her.
“Close,” Astarion managed mere seconds before his whole body seized up, clamping down so hard it was nearly painful. A sudden wetness hit Gale’s cheek and he realized with a jerk that Astarion had somehow managed to shoot over his own shoulder with the force of his orgasm. The knowledge startled a laugh out of him that tipped very quickly into his own peak and then he was spilling into tight heat with a gasp.
Time froze. Cum dripped down to Gale’s chin.
“Ha!” Karlach yelled from somewhere out on the prairie. “Got ya!”
Gale glanced over Astarion’s shoulder and was relieved to find the statement wasn’t directed at them. He allowed his head to thunk back against the chair and took a deep, calming breath. Above him, Astarion had gone bonelessly limp.
“Not fair!” Jen yelled back, “Your legs are longer!”
Karlach's protest was cut off by Lae’zel, who replied with a scathing “Do not blame your stature for your lack of physical prowess, Jenevelle.”
Gale still couldn't see any of them, but realized with a sudden rush of post-orgasm clarity that the second either he or Astarion stood up their upper halves would likely be visible to whoever had made it out onto the prairie. Which from what it sounded like was, at minimum, half of their friends.
He tapped at Astarion’s hip, earning him a soft grumble.
“Leave me be,” Astarion sighed. “This feels too nice.”
“We need to get up carefully,” Gale answered, tone even. “I don’t think we can stand, we’ll be seen, so—”
“Nope,” Astarion said, cutting him off, “Not getting up at all, Gale. I live here now.”
Gale huffed in annoyance and turned his head to nip at Astarion’s ear. The resulting squeak was satisfying but also reminded him that they definitely needed to move before they were caught.
“This is going to sound…uh. You’re not going to like this,” he started, frowning down at the deck floor, “but you need to sort of, like, tip yourself forward and crawl off of me. I think.”
Astarion shot him with what seemed to be an incredibly incredulous look, if the third of his face that Gale could see was anything to go on.
“That’s stupid.”
But, blessedly, he was already going along with the suggestion, slithering off of both Gale’s lap and spent cock and sliding to his knees in front of the chair. He flopped forward onto all fours with a surprising amount of grace and shuffled around to look up at Gale.
“This is stupid,” he confirmed, and Gale had to stifle a laugh with his knuckles.
“I know,” he replied, already moving off the chair in the same fashion. It was awkward, and his knees immediately protested, but soon he was beside Astarion on the hard wooden deck and they shuffled over to the French doors alongside each other.
“I feel like one of the fucking bison,” Astarion whined. Gale rolled his eyes and reached up for the door handle, opening it with a too-late realization that he had picked the wrong one.
A loud squeak filled the morning air, and a moment later there was a loud greeting from below.
“Morning!” Wyll called up. Gale froze, hand still on the doorknob. Astarion looked over his shoulder to level him an amused look.
“Uh, m-morning!” Gale called back, “Just, um. Just wanted to look at the sunrise but it looks like I missed it! Oh well!”
He let go of the doorknob to gesture wildly forward, urging Astarion on with desperate eyes. Astarion giggled softly at that but trudged on regardless, shuffling through the door.
“That’s too bad,” Wyll replied. “Come on down, though! We’re all out here.”
“There is no need to rush,” Lae’zel added, “Please, do take the time to cleanse yourselves first. I do not wish to sit beside the smell of sex all morning.”
Gale blanched. Astarion lifted himself up on his knees to call back down to her over Gale’s shoulder with a wide smile.
“Of course, darling! See you all in a bit!”
There was a pause and then an awkward affirmative noise from Wyll. Lae'zel let out a short, dry laugh.
With a sigh, Gale finished making his way through the door and shut it behind them.