Beware of brainrot

Tav was drunk.

She wasn't knee-crawling drunk. Nor was she commode-hugging drunk, though, if she kept up her current pace, it wasn't impossible.

No, as Tav stood at the far end of the kitchen island, she felt she was channeling the gods. She was strong. She was fearless. Her muscles vibrated with the barely restrained energy of a racehorse, champing at the bit. Her objective, sliding further in stockinged feet across the hardwood floor than the strikingly handsome tiefling dating her husband.

"… TWO! ONE! GO!" Kerry shouted, and Tav took three huge running steps before planting her leading foot to slide across the polished floor as fast as she could. She pinwheeled her arms crazily, laughing and wobbling along before finally careening into Kerry at the opposite end.

He almost caught her. His arms closed around her in a bear hug, but her momentum was too great, the floor too slippery. The room tilted as her feet slid out from under her. Kerry, his feet also clad in socks, lost traction, prompting a surprised yelp of "oh shit!" before both of them crashed sideways into the refrigerator and slid down its stainless-steel surface to land in a giggling pile of tangled limbs.

"Oooowww," Kerry whined, gingerly touching his wounded upper arm. Tav, still laughing and trying to catch her breath, had somehow ended up across his lap, draped over him like a rag doll.

"How'd I do?" she panted.

"A new record in amateur floor speed skating," he said, twisting to see if fresh blood was seeping through the bandage on his shoulder. "Perfect tens, except for the Damaran judge."

"There's just no pleasing that guy," Tav said with a disappointed sigh. Turning in Kerry's lap, she asked: "Can I at least look at it?" She'd watched him prodding the russet stain on the bandage with one tentative finger. "I do know something of healing. Beyond using magic on it, I mean."

"What are you going to do? Kiss it better?"

Kerry's eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed a violent red when Tav's mouth broke into a wicked smirk. It was both the right and the wrong thing to say at the same time - too close to a truth that had been growing between them since their argument ended that morning.

"Of course not," she said, eyes sparkling. "But I could at least make you feel good. Just a little. Please?" She sang the end of the question, and the air around them thickened as it did in the moments before a thunderstorm cracked open the sky. Kerry sighed with resignation. Poor guy. She'd have thought being in a relationship with Astarion would have made him far more resistant to wheedling.

"OK, fine. Just a little."

Before he could change his mind, Tav leaned in, her breath warming the gauze beneath her lips.

"No fortune found, nor faith divine, comes close to topping the fruit of the vine…" Tav sang, her voice warm and low against his bicep. His breath caught, and Tav could see the tension of pain release as the magic flowed through his skin.

"Careful," he murmured, though who he was warning wasn't clear.

"I am being careful," she said. "I won't get you in trouble."

It would have been easy to kiss him. The whisky they'd shared was making a convincing argument for just that. She'd be bold, turning her head just enough to be able to reach him. His fine golden eyebrows would crease with concern for a second before he leaned in. The first kiss would be quick, tentative. Just testing the waters. Then it would slow and deepen, their tongues meeting, sharing breath as Tav let him guide her onto her back. He'd settle his weight onto her, his hands and that delightful tail exploring any scrap of her skin they could find.

It wouldn't be right, of course. Neither of them would feel right about it after, no matter how far it went. Without Astarion there, without his approval, it would be off. Hells, getting tangled up on the floor together as they were was pushing it. But Tav still wanted it. She wanted to learn what Kerry tasted like, to ask for and be granted his touch when and where she wanted. It was wrapped up with and around the embers of need that burned in that deep, hollow place below her belly, making her skin hot, her heart race, and making her ache to be touched.

The fantasy that had sprung to mind vanished just as quickly as it had come with the sound of a key in the apartment's front door lock. Kerry coughed, squirming away from her as if they'd actually been caught in the act, rather than toeing the edge of it.

"I say, what in the hells is going on here?" came Astarion's bemused voice.

—

Astarion hesitated.

He'd let himself into Kerry's spaces more times than he could count. It wasn't anything new. And what was on the other side of that door stood to be much better than the day he'd just left behind. Tav, despite all odds and a thousand years away, was back. And still, standing in that quiet hallway, listening for any sound within, he hesitated.

What if she blamed him? What if she were angry that he hadn't somehow known she was alive and come for her? What if the cult had hurt her so badly and so deeply that there was nothing left of the woman who'd saved him countless times? What if she and Kerry, in a fit of mutual rage and loathing, had gotten into a fight, and they were both dead, sprawled haphazardly amid a scatter of gore and debris?

He dismissed this last possibility as unlikely. Perhaps it was arrogant, but they both knew who they were to Astarion, and he didn't think either of them would want to destroy someone he loved. Besides, he'd have smelled the blood from the elevator.

He did find the two of them in an awkward heap together. They were on the kitchen floor, giggling and drunk, jumbled up beside the refrigerator. Tav's lips hovered over the gash on Kerry's shoulder, the faint eucalyptus-and-ozone smell of fresh magic lingering in the air.

Kerry was smiling, eyes closed. The tip of his tail caressed the back of Tav's calf as it had so often done to Astarion's when they were cuddled together. His nose brushed against Tav's still-damp hair.

It was surprising, to say the least. Kerry had been so angry and so hurt. Civility, let alone whatever this was, seemed like a lot to hope for. But Tav had a remarkable knack for winning people over. Astarion himself was proof of that. Despite his insistence that his feelings were nothing more than a clever game he was playing for protection, she'd wooed him as easily as if falling in love with her had been his idea, his grand plan all along.

"I have good news and bad news," Tav said, smoothing her disarrayed clothes into place. Astarion couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face if he wanted to. This was a Tav he knew. The terrified, humiliated woman who had clung to his side as they fought their way out of the ballroom the night before was gone. Direct, strong, confident - these were characteristics he recognized.

"Oh? Good news first. You know how I detest the bad." Astarion offered each of them a hand to help them up.

"The good news," Tav said, attempting to disguise a small stumble with preening, "is you are looking at the world's first Amateur Floor Speed Skating Champion."

"Brava, darling. I always knew you could do it," Astarion said. If his heart still beat, it would have been bursting. In the days following the defeat of the Netherbrain, when they all had to figure out who they were again, especially Astarion, Tav had made the supremely wise decision to choose silliness. There were nights when so much weighed on him that he could have easily fallen into a well of despair if Tav hadn't subverted his gloom with playfulness. He took it as an immensely good sign that she was doing the same for herself.

Tav squeaked in surprise when Astarion pulled her into his arms and dipped her as if they had been waltzing. She felt good, solid and warm beneath the thick jersey of Kerry's borrowed t-shirt.

The next logical step was kissing her. The necessity of it was as inescapable as gravity. All day, between the meetings and the video calls and the emails, so many gods damned emails, he fantasized about kissing her. Part of him wanted to devour her like the romance stories said - to kiss her like he was a man dying of thirst, and she was the only water in sight. He'd been fantasizing about it for centuries, and yet, when she was there, real in his arms, he paused.

She'd been weak and dazed the night before - hollowed out and numb. She was leagues better now. After rest and, whew, a lot of whisky, and, ew, some kind of food heavy on garlic, onion, and cilantro, she was much closer to the Tav that had lived in his memory for too, too long. But he remembered all too clearly those first few ragged hours, when true freedom still felt like a rouse, like someone would come along and yank it out from under him. He suspected that fear would never leave him, not entirely. And yet, compared to what Tav had been through, his piddling two centuries of servitude seemed like a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of suffering.

Worse, it wasn't over. Orin may have enjoyed siccing her goons on a ballroom full of defenseless, useless wealthy people, but that wasn't why she did it. Gortash certainly wasn't going to give up on keeping Tav hostage so easily. There was a whole symphony yet to come. The gala, he suspected, was simply the overture.

But then, she smiled at him, soft and reassuring. It was a smile he knew, one he'd seen when he would wake from his meditations, cowering against the bedframe and convinced Cazador had found him again.

Something in the vicinity of his heart lurched, and Astarion's throat tightened. She was still in there. Despite everything, she was still her and nothing else mattered - not gods, nor evil plots, nor ghosts - neither freshly slain nor long buried.

Gods, he didn't want to cry. Blubering like a small child was not something a suave, strong, sexy vampire did with a beautiful woman in his arms. But it was too late. He could already feel the tears burning in his eyes.

"I missed you," he whispered. It felt foolish. It felt trite and like he was so woefully understating the truth that he'd blown past cringy and was coming around the far side back to something genuine. Something real.

Tav righted herself and rose onto the balls of her feet to reach him. He traced the side of her nose with his, breathing in her air, his lips tingling with the brush of hers against them as she spoke. "I missed you, too."

Her hands found the sides of his face, fingers bracketing his ears, making them twitch as she held onto him and gently pulled him down to her. It made him wonder what he'd been worried about. Kissing her was as natural as breathing. Of course, it turned out all right. She arched when he wrapped his arms around her ribs, pressing as much of her to him as he could.

He could break the spell, drag them hurtling back into the here and now and the fresh hell of whatever they'd stumbled into this time. But Astarion had always known that he was a selfish creature. He tightened his arms around her, partly to stoke the heat building and tightening in his abdomen, but also to keep her from pulling away, from bleeding through his fingers like sand, from vanishing again like a dream upon waking.

"What's the bad news?" he murmured, keeping his eyes closed, not wanting to relinquish the quiet dark space that had sprung up around them.

"Ahem," Kerry cleared his throat behind them. "There were casualties." He was making a show of rubbing his wounded shoulder, as if physical pain was the cause of the annoyance he wore all over his face.

"There usually are when you play games with Tav," Astarion said, hooking the front of Kerry's t-shirt with a finger. Kerry came easily enough when Astarion tugged him close, pinning Tav between them. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or being obviously interrupted that made Kerry strangely pliant, but Astarion didn't mind. He couldn't. Not when Kerry was kissing him as if it were a competition he was intent on winning. Not when the only two people he had ever truly loved were in his arms.

—

Kerry was confused.

Whisky, anxiety, jealousy, lust, and shame were all boiling in his gut, making it hard to think. Kissing Astarion seemed like the right thing to do. It seemed important to remind them both he, Astarion's partner, was still very much present.

Never mind that, though his arms were around Astarion's neck, his tail had, quite on its own, wound its way around Tav when she tried to squirm out from between the two of them. He didn't even realize he'd been holding her until she leaned back against his hip in return.

Warmth rushed up from somewhere in Kerry's stomach when he pulled away to see that the goofy, smitten expression in Astarion's eyes hadn't faded. Astarion wasn't upset about how he'd found them, or if he was, he was very good at hiding it. Regardless, he wasn't going to take the pass he was getting for granted. Kissing Tav was almost a mistake, one he wouldn't put himself in the position of making again, stupid, stubborn tail be damned.

"I missed you, too," Astarion said, grinning.

"You better." Kerry didn't quite trust himself to say more. Saying more would be opening the floodgates to a verbal diarrhea of "I'm sorrys" and "it didn't mean anythings," and over-explanations that just made him look more guilty.

In an effort to calm his busy brain, Kerry stepped back, clearing his throat again. He needed space and air that didn't smell of coconut and lavender with some indistinct beachy undertone the shampoo manufacturer called "palm breezes." He'd have to get new shampoo. He couldn't smell it again. Not now that Tav had used it and associated herself with it forever in his mind. Not if he wanted to leave his near lapse in judgment behind. And oh, gods, now he was thinking about kissing her again, and the erection he'd thought had receded was coming back, and Astarion would know and-

"Darling, did you hear me?"

Astarion was looking at him expectantly, the corners of his mouth twitching with the same bemused smile he'd had on when he walked in. Kerry blinked dumbly at him for a second, swimming up through the haze of self-flagellation to grasp at the thread of conversation.

"Yes!" he answered too loudly. "Yeah, meetings today. Uh, how'd it go? What did, um, what did Francesca say?" His eyes darted around the room, landing on anything that wasn't in direct eye contact with Astarion.

Astarion's half-grin broadened. "I was asking how your day was," he said slowly, "but we can talk about mine first. Are you sure you're all right?"

Tav drew a breath that was trying not to be a laugh and turned away to busy herself by pouring another couple fingers of whisky into her tumbler. Wordlessly humming the song she had sung when she healed him seemed criminally unfair and unnecessary.

"Sorry, yes. I'm fine," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Day was fine. We got off to a hard-ROCKY start, but it's fine. We're fine." Tav barked out a laugh and inhaled a sip of the alcohol at the same time, coughing and sputtering as it went down the wrong pipe. Astarion moved to pat her on the back, but she held up a hand to stop him, gasping, but better.

"I'll say it was hard," she croaked, still chuckling and trying to massage the alcohol burn out of her trachea. "This man was standing bare-ass naked in front of the window when I came out this morning. No shame. Just launched straight into an argument with me."

"Did he now?" Astarion asked, half-smirking, half-frowning. The blush on Kerry's cheeks deepened to a hot maroon.

"Thank you, Tav," Kerry said, glaring. "Thank you for immediately ratting me out and embarrassing me again." She snorted.

"You did that yourself, mate," she said, her old Baldurian accent deepening. "I'm just the messenger."

Astarion was clearly trying to look annoyed. He was glaring, arms crossed on his chest. His lips were drawn into a tight line that was intended to be menacing until his mouth wobbled and his warm, throaty laugh, his genuine laugh, erupted. Tav slid an arm around Kerry's waist, dissolving into giggles herself as she hugged him.

"Oh, fuck you both," Kerry said, blushing deeper and trying not to let the laugh building in his throat escape. His hand found its way to rest on Tav's shoulder, squeezing her back. If it was wrong, it didn't feel like it.

"Why in the hells did you do that?" Astarion managed to choke out when his laughter had tapered off enough for him to speak. Kerry shrugged.

"Seemed like a good idea," he mumbled.

"How in the hells was exposing yourself to your partner's wife and getting into an argument with her a good idea?"

Kerry was about to say something about being upset and drunk and not thinking clearly when Tav jumped in.

"I wasn't complaining," she said, her eyes flashing wickedly from Kerry to Astarion.

"I bet not," Astarion said. "He's just your type." Tav bit her lip, smirking. "Still," Astarion continued. "Arguing with our host? After he gave you," Astarion paused to sniff the air, "hellacious-smelling food and, apparently, a concerning amount of alcohol? Rude, darling. Very rude."

"Well, we got tacos after we kissed and made up," Tav said. She must have seen the color drain from Kerry's face. "Metaphorically," she added hurriedly. "We - we didn't kiss."

Astarion gave a skeptical "mhmm." Unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes, looking from one to the other. Kerry held his breath, unsure if Astarion bought it. It was the truth. Barely.

"Hm. A pity," Astarion said, shrugging. "I'm glad the two of you are getting along now."

Kerry relaxed slowly after Astarion sat down with him at the kitchen island and began recounting his day. Tav, on the other hand, seemed to need to be in constant motion. She had made an effort to be polite after the argument ended, staying where he could see her—keeping her nose out of things that looked personal. But with Kerry and Astarion talking, she wandered back into the guest room to give them some space.

"Well, you might have guessed already, but the dig is suspended," Astarion began.

"Not surprising," Kerry said bitterly. "Not fair, but not surprising."

"No, not fair at all," Astarion agreed. "The University is in a full panic. The police don't know why the gala was attacked. None of the cultists they caught will give them the same answer, making none of them credible. Gortash is missing. Orin escaped in the confusion when SWAT breached the ballroom. Francesca is throwing out every response to a public catastrophe she can think of. And we're just stuck in the middle."

"What a gods damned mess," Kerry muttered. "How long are we shut down? The way we left things, it would keep for a weekend. Longer than that, we're risking real loss. Vandalism. Theft. Erosion."

"Undetermined," Astarion sighed. "Francesca wasn't sure if the site would ever reopen. She's already had donors pulling out."

"Fuck," Kerry hissed. "Not to be selfish, but this is my dissertation we're talking about here. My career is on the line."

From the guestroom, Kerry could hear his ancient guitar, the one that had been gathering dust for most of a decade, being tuned.

"I know, darling," Astarion said. "Mine too. But it's all still so murky. We don't know anything yet."

"Yeah, speaking of mysteries," Kerry began slowly. "Did you talk to Tav at all before you left this morning?"

Astarion's hand reflexively went to his wedding ring, twisting it slowly around his finger. "Some. Last night, before she fell asleep." He held his hands out to study them. "She didn't really want to talk."

In the next room, a song was coming together on the guitar. There were a few blue notes here and there, but the strains of something old and familiar emerged as Tav learned to play the instrument. She hummed along as she searched for the right chords until soft, melancholy lyrics about longing and dreams, set down by a river, joined the plucking strings.

"I don't know what you had planned. For tonight, I mean," Kerry began, slowly, carefully. Astarion looked up from contemplating his palms with sharp, intense eyes that made Kerry feel as if he were a particularly ugly bug being pinned to a display board.

"I shouldn't be saying this," he said.

"Is this more jealousy?" Astarion asked.

"No! No, not at all," Kerry replied over the roar of blood in his ears. "She's great! Like, really great."

"I'm sensing a 'but,'" Astarion deadpanned.

For something to do to keep his hands from twisting together, Kerry scratched at the nape of his neck. "No, not a 'but.' Not exactly." He was blushing again. He could feel it, along with that same spiraling sensation he had when Astarion walked in to find him and Tav almost kissing. It was the feeling he associated with a secret growing, getting too large to be safely contained behind his lips and teeth. It was time for honesty, but gods, Kerry didn't want to be honest.

He had a choice between two truths to tell - spill Tav's secrets or his own.

"I like her," Kerry forced out. "Maybe too much." His skin was surely burning at this point. The tips of his ears felt so hot that they had to be literally on fire. What in the hells was wrong with him? He was a grown adult. He wasn't a pre-teen, being badgered by one of his childhood friends, asking him if he just liked Tav, or if he like-liked her. So why did this knot of apprehension insist on tightening around his gut? Why was he so gods damned anxious?

"Well, I hate to ruin your big reveal, darling," Astarion said. Kerry glanced up at Astarion to find him smirking, a chuckle barely contained. "But I did get that impression when I walked in to find her in your lap."

"You're not upset?" Kerry asked, hating the pleading that had crept into his voice, uninvited.

"Upset? That the two people I love most in the world are attracted to each other? Gods, no. I wasn't joking when I said you were her type." Astarion shifted in his chair, his eyes drifting back to his palms, though Kerry was almost certain he wasn't actually seeing them. "This wouldn't be the first time the two of us shared romantic interest in someone," he said. His voice was dreamy, wandering off down the paths of memory.

"There was a wood elf," Astarion said slowly. "Halsin. He was…-" Kerry could see Astarion's throat bobbing, working on the words that seemed stuck there. "He was very special to us." Kerry wanted to squeeze Astarion's shoulder. He wanted to ask about this Halsin, how he knew him, if he had loved him. But before he got the chance, Astarion shrugged it off, closing the topic.

"Delighted as I am that you've come around on Tav, I don't think that's what you really wanted to tell me."

The knot in Kerry's gut shifted and tightened around his chest. Astarion was right. He hadn't meant to tell him how he felt about Tav. He'd been stalling, and of course, Astarion knew it.

"Tav told me something this morning. Something about what happened to her." Kerry said with a low, gusty breath. "She didn't go into details, but she admitted it when I guessed." Astarion's face had shifted into an impassive mask. Kerry hadn't seen this face often, but he'd seen it enough to know he didn't like seeing it, to know there was something deep and dark and painful hidden behind it. Astarion didn't speak. He only nodded for Kerry to continue.

"The people who were keeping her - she said they hurt her. Beat her. Abused her. She said they did 'things' to her against her will. She didn't say what, but ..." he trailed off, leaving the worst unsaid.

Kerry plucked up the courage to meet Astarion's eyes again, and he instantly regretted it. He should have kept his big mouth shut. He should have let Astarion and Tav navigate the aftermath together. It was their relationship, not his. Astarion loved her. Kerry liked her. Maybe too much. But it still wasn't his place, even if he wasn't entirely sure where that was anymore.

The one thing he was sure of was that he had fucked up.

"You're right. You shouldn't have been the one to tell me any of that," Astarion said quietly. His anger hummed in the air, like a sound just outside the audible range, unsettling and indefinable.

"I'm sorry. I was only trying to help. I didn't want you to get hurt. Either of you."

"I know." Astarion sighed. "I know you were, darling. But I know something of being held captive, too. Of having 'things' done to you." He took Kerry's hand in both of his, kissing the knuckles. "But what's done is done. And I did, sort of, pry it out of you. I'm not angry with you," he said, though he looked as though the words still tasted bitter. "I just wish you'd let her tell me in her own time."

The notes of Tav's song floating out of the guest room slowed and dissipated until they stopped altogether. When Tav emerged, her eyes and the tip of her nose were red.

"Sorry," she said with a tiny sniffle. "I should have asked first. I just haven't touched an instrument in so long. Couldn't help myself." Both men sat up a little straighter.

"Totally fine," Kerry said, hoping he didn't look and sound as guilty as he felt. "It was beautiful."

—

"Enough."

Tav spoke so softly from the depths of her armchair that she wasn't sure if they heard her. With the sun headed for the horizon, the three of them had settled into Kerry's living room. Admittedly, Tav had started to tune the two men out as they talked about "the dig" and what needed to be done. They were planning a "road trip" from Waterdeep to "the dig" because Tav couldn't fly without ID. Tav would need clothes. And shoes. Maybe a "phone," whatever that was. Tav needed this. Tav didn't have that. Tav, Tav, Tav, TAV! She was getting sick of the sound of her own name.

She heard them earlier, of course. She heard Kerry telling Astarion about how that morning's argument had ended with her alluding to all of the horrible, disgusting, shameful shit Gortash and the Bhaalists had done to her. In a way, she was grateful. The hardest part, admitting she'd been too weak to stop them when they …- did what they did to her, was over. She didn't have to find words for the things she never wanted to think about again. It was done for her. Though she'd have liked to think she was brave enough to tell Astarion herself, she was grateful that she didn't need to just yet. One night, perhaps, but not tonight. Everyone is a coward when it comes to exposing their deepest hurts. Tav found she could forgive herself for that.

What she could not do was watch them pretending they hadn't had an intimate conversation about her when they thought she was out of earshot and then treat her like she was some rare and delicate artifact they'd dug up that might disintegrate at any second.

They talked about her as if she weren't there, or worse, as if she were a problem to be managed. They took turns saying something they belatedly thought was damaging to her somehow, and then darting sheepish looks at her, as if waiting for her to start sobbing. Worse, if they kept it up, she just might.

Every soft, pitying look whispered, "Be careful with Tav, she's been broken." Each sideways glance at her was a reminder that she'd been damaged. Sullied. Violated. Even if they didn't know the exact extent and number of each insult and injury, they could imagine it all and still give her those soft, sad, pitying looks that all meant so well.

One of the worst parts of everything she'd endured was the helplessness and the powerlessness of it all. It was an ill-fitted suit of clothes that bound and hitched, scratched and dug in at all the wrong places and inopportune moments. She'd worn it for way too long, and she hated every second of it.

Well, no more.

"Enough of what, my sweet?" Astarion asked, smiling softly as if he were trying not to frighten a small child.

"This!" She stood, throwing her arms out to encompass the room and everything beyond. "I'm so tired," Tav continued. "I'm tired of talking. Of sitting around all day doing nothing. Of the two of you casting furtive glances at me, like - like you're waiting for me to do something, like I'm going to explode."

"We're not -" Astarion started.

"Yes, you are!" Tav interrupted. "Don't think I don't see you, Astarion. Looking at me every thirty seconds. Checking up on me with that look in your eyes."

"What look?" And he was wearing exactly the look she was talking about. The big, round vampire puppy eyes, with his brows arched up all the way up into his pompadour hairline. Just so very fucking concerned. For a mad second, Tav wanted to grab him by the front of his shirt and shake him. She wanted to scream.

"I'm not some fragile little flower, you know?" was what came out after a few measured breaths.

"I know that," Astarion said quietly.

"I'm not!" she said, scowling at Kerry. Poor kid. He didn't deserve her rage. Apart from a brief interlude of understandable unpleasantness, he'd been nothing but kind to her. And here he was, caught in the blast radious of her ire. Tav turned her back to him before he could feel like he had to respond to her.

"I've fought gnolls and goblins! Undead - I killed scores of them! I killed fucking Gortash! With fucking fireworks!" The longer Tav went on, the louder she got.

"I know, darling, I was there. Remember?" Astarion said. His eyes had narrowed, and a small, impish smile tugged at the corners of his generous mouth—the prick.

"And Ketheric Thorm! Orin, too! When she was in that big monster slayer form!"

"Yes, darling, I know. You're very strong." Astarion's lips broke into a grin. Humoring. He was humoring her, as if she were a cranky child up past bedtime that needed to be coddled.

Tav didn't want to be coddled. She wanted… to feel strong. Powerful. She wanted to feel steady, like the world wasn't slowly tilting on its axis to send her sprawling onto the floor without a burly teifling there to catch her this time.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tav caught Kerry, glancing back and forth between them, looking more confused by the second.

"I killed Raphael." She pointed at her own chest. "I killed a gods damned Illithid Netherbrain!"

"Well, we all did that, but you were instrumental. It has to be said." Astarion's hands settled on Tav's hips. Without meaning to, she stepped closer, between his knees. He hadn't eaten yet. She could tell by how cold his hands felt through the cotton of her shirt and the slippery, synthetic fabric of the shorts she was borrowing. As much as she hated for him to go hungry, feeling that icy touch exploring her skin had always been something she savored. When his stroking thumbs brushed under the hem of her shirt, she couldn't suppress the little gasp she made.

"I was instrumental," she said, frowning. Pouting. Astarion was distracting her with his stupid, pretty eyes and his stupid, cool, teasing touches, and that stupid, lecherous grin he used when he was thinking the same things she was, but she didn't want to admit it just yet. "I don't need to be treated with kid gloves," she said.

He leaned forward. If he breathed, Tav would have been able to feel his breath on her stomach as he spoke. "No, I don't think you do," he whispered.

Those gods damned fingers of his slid up her sides, dragging her shirt up his forearms. His lips brushed the slight curve of her stomach, just below her navel. The dainty, cold kitten licks of his tongue exploring her abdomen were just a little too high, too soft to be anything but frustrating. The way her hips leaned toward him was just a little more lurid than she wanted.

"But something tells me that it's not just anger that has your heart beating so loudly." He punctuated the end of his sentence with kisses from her navel to the waistband of her shorts, riding low on her hips.

Of the many things Tav had forgotten about Astarion, the particularly infuriating nature of the leering grin he turned on her to distract and disarm her rage was one she hadn't been at all prepared for. Her breath caught when he snagged the end of the drawstring on her shorts between his blunt front teeth, tugged, and the waistband loosened with it. He brushed the tip of his nose against her lower belly, nudging her shorts lower and simmering heat in her core higher.

Yes, she was really angry. Genuinely enraged. But Astarion, whose skilled perception apparently hadn't dulled even a little over their time apart, still read her like a cheap romance serial. He squeezed her ass and gave her hips a little shake. "Well?"

"Can't it be both?" She asked. "Can't I be both angry and…?"

Astarion let the grin he'd been restraining loose. "And what, my sweet?"

"Are you really going to make me say it?" Tav could feel her ears growing hot and pink. Ohh, shit, she didn't have nearly enough whisky buzz left for this. On her best days, her courage faltered when he turned those red, liquid eyes on her and asked her to, gods forbid, tell him what she wanted.

"Yes," Astarion said. Tav could swear he was purring. "After a thousand years, I think I deserve to hear it said out loud."

"Fine," she growled as she climbed up to straddle his hips. Gods above, she'd missed this. The feeling of his hips between her thighs, of settling her weight on him. His hands curling around her hips and ever-so-gently pulling her tighter against him. Her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of Astarion's neck. "Astarion Ancunin,"

"Yes?"

"I would very much like you to fuck me. Please."

"Drizzt's balls," Kerry swore. "That's it. I'm out."

"What?" Tav asked, turning to him, genuinely confused.

"I have been really patient," he began. "I've kept you safe, drank with you, got you food. Loaned you clothes. Played weird, silly games with you to cheer you up." He shoved himself out of his chair, waving his hands as he spoke.

"I'm starting to really like you, Tav. But you, neither of you, seem to get how truly fucking weird this is for me." When neither of them spoke, he began the subconscious ritual all men seemed to know of patting pockets to make sure they had what they needed before leaving.

"If there's one thing I feel no social obligation to do, it's to sit here and watch you dry hump my partner while propositioning him for sex," Kerry finished. The sentiment was familiar, but even Tav, distracted as she was, could see the conflicted emotions simmering behind his eyes. She smiled then, hoping it was coming off genuine and honest.

"Would you like to join us?"

---

As always, thank you for reading! Thank you for waiting! The next one will come out much quicker! I promise!

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