nasty

“You like gifts, don't you, Astarion?”

“Oo, what have you gotten me this time?”

Weft hands him a long, flat, paper box, and he opens it eagerly. Inside, nestled in paper, are three articles of clothing, though, he thinks, one would hardly count as “dressed” if wearing them. A gauzy robe with velvet floral designs, a narrow corset in black and silver, and a spit of fabric he assumes is underwear, though it’s difficult to be sure.

“Oh, darling,” he says, “they’re gorgeous. How do you always know just the thing?”

Weft beams at him. “Are you going to try them on or what?”

“Trying them on, then or what.” He waggles his eyebrows at them as he hops to the next room, and they laugh.

The whole get-up fits him perfectly–of course. Weft knows his measurements as well as their own at this point. He looks down at himself, idly regretting his lack of reflection. He must look damn good. The panties have no seat at all, just three straps to hold the front in place, and the robe has a long slit up the back that ends above his tailbone. “How saucy,” he purrs to himself.

He returns to the boudoir, striking a pose against the doorway. “Well! It seems I’m not the only one who got a new outfit.”

Weft is also striking a pose, demurely holding their own ephemeral robe closed, entirely failing to conceal themself beneath it. “I wanted us to feel pretty all of a sudden, so I ordered these. That was four months ago, of course, but fortunately I”m still in a pretty mood. Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I feel like I’m floating.” He twirls over to them, enjoying the rise and fall of the delicate garment. “Like I’m the prettiest harlot at the orgy. And you! Why you're easily the second prettiest.”

Weft laughs. “I’m glad. And you’re having the effect on me I was hoping for.”

“Oh, that’s what I like to hear.” He slides a finger up the edge of his robe in the front, drawing it off his shoulder and just barely letting one nipple show. “Is this what you like, my sweet?”

Weft bites their lip, and reaches out to trace a line up his ear to its point and back to his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “You do look ravishing,” they murmur.

He opens his eyes and looks up at them through his eyelashes. “Then ravish me, darling.” Some emotion crosses Weft’s face and it gives him pause. “Is something the matter?”

“No, I...sorry, it’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“I was just thinking how…” they sigh, color rising in their cheeks. “How there was a time when this wouldn’t have been alright, when you didn’t want me to...look at you...the way I’m looking at you now.” He can tell there’s a hesitancy they still feel, a holdover from that time, now years past. He places his hand over theirs on his face. “Sorry. I’m just happy to see how far you've come.”

“Credit where it’s due, my darling. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

They smile. “Good for us.”

“Good for us! Now how about that ravishing?” He turns to show them the back of his underwear. “I assume that was what you had in mind when you bought me panties without an ass.”

“When I what? Oh no.” Weft is looking at him with a hand hiding their smile. “I’m so sorry, love, I think there's been a mixup.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t mean for me to have my whole backside hanging out?” He raises an eyebrow at them and smirks. “For easy access?”

“No, it’s for a tail!” They turn to show him theirs, and sure enough, the straps that he had found a little mysterious fit perfectly over their tail. “They must have taken my order wrong. Oh, your robe too! I’m sorry, darling, I’ll send them back and get you the right ones.”

“Excuse me! We will not be sending back a thing.... You are welcome to purchase me an additional set, however.” He reaches into their robe through the tail slit and pinches their ass cheek. They let out a yelp and slap at his hand, laughing. “Here I was, thinking you had an incredible sexy idea, and it was just a great sexy idea with an incredible accident.”

“You have a point.” Weft wraps their arms around his corseted waist and pulls their bodies together. Their cocks collide, nestled as they are in luxurious silk. He lets out a soft sound, and grinds his hips into theirs.

“Besides, darling,” he says, “I hope to leave these in a state that means they’re beyond sending back to the store.”

Weft kisses him. They draw their hands down his torso and cup his ass cheeks, extra perky as they are. He snakes his arms around their neck and jumps up. They catch him, like he knew they would, and carry him to their bed. 

Astarion falls on his back on the bedspread and they climb on top of him. He traces a hand around one of their breasts hanging over him, drinking in his partner’s beauty. They slide his robe off his shoulder and kiss the spot left bare, trailing down to his nipple. He hums at the flick of their tongue and bucks his hips up into them. He strains to reach behind them and unbuckle their underwear. They make a noise against his chest as he leverages his feet to scoot the panties off of them.

“Ready to go?” they ask, rubbing their erection against him.

“Gods, just flip me over already! Ah!” Weft does as he suggests and he finds himself facedown. They plant more soft kisses on his neck as they summon a bottle of oil to their hand. He shivers when their slick fingers enter him. They lay their cheek on his back while they finger him, their skin separated from his old scars by the thin layer of gauze. He still can’t feel, in the lines where he was once mutilated, but the treatments he’s been using have softened the skin, and the uncut places can feel Weft’s touch more easily.

Weft sighs against him. “I could finger you forever, you know.”

“Mn, darling,” he says, head swimming with pleasure, “I would hardly complain if you did.”

“I don’t have to worry about finishing too soon, and I can go anywhere on your body.” He feels them shifting, moving down, and the absence of their warmth strikes him. He rises to his elbows so he can turn and see them where they’ve settled, between his legs.

They draw their tongue across one of his cheeks, making him shiver, and the hand that isn’t inside him gently rolls his balls through the silk that cups them. He moans and drops his head, still keeping one eye on them over his arm. They’re looking at him with something like wonder in their eyes, then flash him an embarrassed smile. “You look so good, my love.”

His chest tightens, and he smiles at them. “Is that my best angle?” They laugh, and press a kiss between his cheeks, above their fingers. They press harder on his balls, making him gasp in pleasure. “Oh, Weft,” he moans, “don’t stop, darling.”

“Mhmn.” They keep him suspended like that, moaning, toes curling, chest aching for them. Then he speaks, with a hint of a whine.

“Weft. You could finger me forever. But…” He pauses. “I do love to be–ah–filled by you.”

They hiss the word “Fuck.” He manages a throaty laugh. “You always know just what to say.”

“Please my love,” he says softly, “let me take you to the hilt. Ah–” Their hands slip away from him and then their body is hovering over him again. He watches them apply oil to their cock, twitching in anticipation, before they guide it inside him. “Gods,” he blurts out, “my darling, yes.”

They fall around him, their thighs touching his thighs, their breasts dropping against his back, their hands, one gripping his hip and the other by his elbow on the bed. Weft pants into his hair and a wave of pleasure radiates down his body from the feel of their warm breath on his scalp. “Fuck,” they hiss again, “my beloved beloved.”

“Yes,” he breathes, “you’re perfect. Weft, please. Ah–” They press in and out of him, making small high cries into his hair with each plunge in. “Yes, that’s it, please–” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. What more could they possibly give? Weft is inside him, filling him, their body surrounding him, swallowing him up. He is whole, complete, with them inside him. Astarion digs his face into the bed.

Weft’s cock hits the spot deep inside him that makes him see stars and he gasps. “That’s it,” he cries desperately, “that’s it, you’re right there don’t stop!” He moans, his voice getting louder and higher, until he comes, filling the silk surrounding his cock.

“Oh my love, oh beloved.” Weft wraps their arm tight across his stomach and slams into him four more times, then finishes, with their face against his neck. He reaches an arm up past his head and grasps at them, getting a fistful of their robe. They cling to his corseted torso, holding him close. “Astarion. My love.”

“Weft, my sweet.” He turns beneath them and they pull out of him as he rolls. His hands find their face, his thumbs caressing their cheekbones. “My beauty.” He pulls their face down for a kiss and they lay their body on him, their weight pressing him to the bed. He’s indescribably happy.

Weft breaks the kiss and lifts their hips off of his. “You were right, my love.”

“Mm?”

They reach between their bodies and draw a finger under the top edge of his underwear, damp from his spending. “These are not going back to the store.”

“Is this how it’s meant to fit?”

Halsin looks up at Weft as they enter the room, and his heart skips a beat.

“I’m trying to fit in around here, you know, so it wouldn't help much if I look like a tourist who doesn't know which way of their trousers is the front.”

“It appears to fit quite well,” Halsin says, rising from his chair and approaching them. “Perhaps a little, hm, tight in the chest.”

“Really?” Weft looks down at their body, scrutinizing their outfit. It’s a typical one for those who live in druidic enclaves, like where they are now. He’s never seen Weft in something so…rustic. Usually they dress very smartly. Dignified. Buttoned-up. Now, in borrowed garb from one of his fellow druids, which they are nearly spilling out of in places, he finds they are having an effect on him. “I wasn’t sure if the front was supposed to close all the way or if it’s just a la mode to have your tits out around here.”

“Hm,” Halsin says.

Weft looks up at him, a smile playing on their face. “What?”

“What what?”

“What was that little noise about?”

He feels his cheeks get hot. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Is it the outfit?” they ask, stepping closer to him. “Is that why you look ready to devour me?”

“I’m always ready to devour you, my heart. But you’re right. Those clothes are…quite fetching, on you.”

“Interesting.” They press their body to his and he shivers, places his hands on their upper arms. “Who am I calling to mind, then? A young love? Maybe an instructor you had a childhood crush on?”

“No one in particular,” he says, voice a rumble. “Just remembering my hot-headed youth, when my fellow druids and I would galavant through the forest as we pleased, falling in and out of each other's arms. Before the world weighed heavily upon us.”

“Gods that sounds like fun. Even at my wildest, I still had to get up and go to work in the morning.”

“That hardly sounds wild at all.”

They laugh and hook their fingers into the top of his leggings, drawing them forward under his belly. “You wouldn’t think so, would you? How much time do we have?”

Halsin looks out the window of their temporary home. “Until sunset, so an hour or so.”

“Good. Devour me.”

He lets out a sound not unlike a growl and surges to them, guiding them to a wall. Weft melts in his arms, lacing their fingers into his hair. He draws his nose down their neck to their chest, where their breasts are barely contained by their bodice, and buries his face in their cleavage. He tastes their skin, drunk on their sweat and the smell of leather.

Halsin’s hands go to the ties at the front of their leggings and feverishly undoes them. Weft moves to unlace their bodice but he stays their hands.

“Wait, would you…leave the bodice on?”

Weft smiles, broad with surprise. “Halsin, wanting clothes to stay on? I never thought I'd see the day.”

He chuckles as he kneels to pull their leggings down. “My love, there is still so much for us to learn about each other.”

“Alright!” they say. “Keeping that in mind for the future! Ah–” He takes in their half-hard cock and plays at it with his tongue. It grows in his mouth, and he draws on it with increased fervor. His hands move to Weft’s backside, supporting them against the wall. He makes a small noise when the tip of their cock hits the back of his throat.

“That’s more like it,” he says after pulling off them. He looks up at them, admiring his lover in the soft light of the evening sun. They smile down at him.

“Don't leave me in suspense, beloved.”

“Of course not.” His hand travels between their cheeks and he massages at their entrance. “Would that I could take you back to those days. You would have thrived.”

“Oh? Would you have gotten possessive, to see me having my way with the lads and lasses and whoever else?”

He hums and presses his nose into their thigh. “Hardly. I'm sure I would have competed with the others for your attention. And done anything you asked, most likely.”

“Halsin,” Weft says with a laugh, “how is that different from now? Oh—”

He draws his tongue across the skin at the top of their thigh, making their cock twitch beside his cheek. “If you had asked me to, I would have gladly let another man take me, for your pleasure. Or made your favorite young lady come thrice before you graced me with your touch.”

They release a breathy laugh as he traces his nose across their stomach. “My preferences are already so clear to you, beloved, I’m a bit embarrassed.” 

“So I would have won your favor?”

“Without a doubt. And what if I was the one pursuing you?”

“It would have been a short game.”

He takes them in his mouth again and they sigh in pleasure. He slips a first and then a second finger inside them, and they moan. As he pulls off and on them, again and again, they say “I would have been hard pressed to resist you, I think, but I would have enjoyed putting you in your place, too. Young, brash, cocky. I would have been delighted to play with you. Oh, yes, darling.”

Their grip on his hair tightens and he moves faster, the fingers in their ass swirling. When he feels them tense, he pulls off, letting their seed fly across his face, catching him from below his eye down to his chin. They gasp to see him, and he grins when they hide half their face with one hand. “You’re mad,” they sigh, blushing deeply. “Let me clean you up.”

He lets them pull him standing and they drag their tongue across the skin of his face, making him shudder. They smile at him, so fondly. “That would have won you my favor for sure.”

“And what does your favor entail?”

Their hands are on his leggings, loosening the laces. “Permission to fuck me, obviously.”

He growls and dives for their neck, lips locked to it as they pull out his cock. When it springs forth, he lifts them by the bare thighs and presses them against the wall. They gasp and scrabble for purchase, their hands gripping a door frame and shelf. Halsin maneuvers his hips so the head of his cock is aligned with their hole, and pushes in.

“Yes,” they moan, “gods.” His fingers dig into their thighs as he moves in and out of them, and he watches their stomach flex to stay upright. Their breasts shake as he thrusts into them, their whole body trembling around him. They cry out in pleasure, their voice filling him with pride. “Gods you’re huge, fuck, fuck me.” Stars burst in his head to hear them, and he pounds harder. He comes with one final thrust and a shudder, and just manages to slip out of them before they both collapse to the floor.

Halsin lays flat on his back, panting, and Weft drapes themself on top of him. They breathe together in contented silence.

When Weft notices how little light is left outside the window, they rise and retreat to the bedroom with their leggings. “There’s towels back here, right?”

“I’m sure,” Halsin calls back. “Check the wardrobe.” After a moment, Weft returns, fully dressed once again, and crouches beside him. They wipe his crotch, making him shiver, and then smile as they tuck him back into his clothes and lace them back up.

“It’s such a pleasure to me,” they say, “that you’ve lived so long. With the life you've led, I feel like I’ll never run out of presents to unwrap.”

He draws his hand down from their stomach to their crotch, and on down their thigh. “And I have the pleasure of unwrapping you.”