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Bars have never been Astarion’s scene. Contrary to popular belief, he prefers a quiet evening reading books to hanging around a bunch of drunks. Give him a glass of merlot and a fireplace to curl up in front of, and he’s happy.
The barstools are faded, the red morphing into a rusty gray where patrons have worn away the color. There’s a slightly acidic smell in the air, a combination of lime and pure alcohol that has Astarion wrinkling his nose. The music is subpar, some country singer musing about his red truck while also lamenting on how his fiancée left him for his best friend.
He doesn’t want to be here, the memories of his past self swirling around him like vultures above roadkill, but Gale seemed so excited to come here and try out his idea. So, Astarion stays planted in his seat and waits. A little bit of discomfort is nothing if it means seeing that gorgeous smile on Gale’s face.
Astarion nurses a Bloody Mary, fingers idly swirling the celery garnish around the rim of the glass as he stared into space. The sound of someone sitting down startles him out of his reverie. His lips tug up at their own volition as he spots who it is.
A handsome man with half-moon glasses leans towards him with a hesitant smile. “Pardon the intrusion, but I was wondering if a beautiful man such as yourself has as much wit and charm as your appearance implores.”
His hands are curled up in the space between them, thumbs twiddling nervously together as he meets Astarion’s gaze. The man has his gray-streaked hair pulled into a low bun. A few stray locks frame his softer face and give him an air of approachability. Combined with the casual blue button-up and the hint of a tattoo peeking out near the neckline, Astarion can’t say he isn’t interested.
“No intrusion at all,” Astarion says coyly. “You’ll have to be the judge on whether my wit matches my beauty, but between you and me–” Astarion leans forward until their elbows are touching, “I’d like to think the drapes match the carpet.”
“Introductions are in order if we’re truly going to, ah, test whether it’s true.” The man’s eyes dip down for a moment, cheeks flushing a pretty pink as he subconsciously licks his lips. Astarion has the sudden urge to kiss the other, press their mouths together until they’re both gasping for more.
There are calluses on the man’s palms, and Astarion imagines how they would feel trailing down his chest, the rough skin brushing against his nipple tantalizingly slow as the man dips in and takes the other in his mouth, tongue swirling around and around until all Astarion can do is hold on to his broad shoulders and moan.
“Name’s Astarion.” Their knees are touching now, warmth blooming at the point of contact.
“Gale. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Gale’s eyes are heavy-lidded, a subtle smile resting on his mouth throughout the whole interaction.
Then someone walks behind them and brushes against Gale’s back, and the persona shatters. Gale sucks in his bottom lip, nervous energy flickering across his face. His eyes dart around for a moment before settling again on Astarion’s eyes. He attempts a smile, like if he can convince Astarion he’s alright then it will be, but his hands are still shaking a bit, betraying his emotions.
Astarion pauses, stuffing his witty response in his back pocket as he takes Gale’s hands in his own. He lowers his voice until it's just audible over the conversations and music of the crowded bar. “We can leave if you want, darling.”
Gale sighs, lacing their fingers together. “No, it’s alright. I’m the one that wanted to come here and pretend to pick you up.” He fiddles with Astarion’s thumb, rubbing over the knuckle in slow, soothing patterns. “I just…”
“Yes, love?”
“I don’t understand sometimes, how someone like me is married to you.” Gale gestures to a pair of patrons flirting a few barstools down. They’re practically in each other’s laps, lips inches apart as they laugh over something the one on the left said. “I’m not like that.”
“Like what?” Seeing the conflicted look on his husband’s face hurts.
“Like this.” He doesn’t have to gesture at the bar again for Astarion to know what he means. “I can’t help but wonder sometimes how much you gave up to be with me.”
Bars have never been Astarion’s scene, but he used to hang out at them a lot. Was hanging out at one the night he met Gale, wallowing on the steps outside the bar and too drunk to stand on his own.
Astarion gladly exchanged the bar scene for bookstore dates and falling asleep next to each other on the couch, a half-read book settled in his lap. He loved the quiet they shared. Nothing in the world can convince him to give up what they have.
Realization dawns on Astarion. “Is that why you wanted to come here tonight? To give me what you think I miss?”
Gale flicks his gaze back to Astarion. “Do you not miss it?”
“Not when I’m with you.”
Astarion reaches up to curl his fingers behind Gale’s neck and gently pulls him forward until their foreheads are touching, noses skimming every once in a while as they sit there and breathe. “I like my life with you.”
“Yeah?”
They’re centimeters apart. Astarion can practically taste the smile on his husband’s lips.
“I wouldn’t trade you for the world, darling, much less a dinghy bar like this.”
Astarion melts as Gale closes the distance between them with a chaste peck on the lips.
“What, no tongue?” Astarion teases.
Gale shakes his head with a grin. “I’m so lucky to have such a beautiful, witty husband.”
Astarion winks. “Pretty sure that’s my line, darling.” He trails his hand back down to Gale’s and laces their fingers together. “Although, I’m not sure if I’m simply witty or turned on right now. You, my love, look absolutely delectable.”
“Would you be opposed to heading out a bit early?” Gale asks. The tips of his ears are red, and it takes every ounce of Astarion’s self-control not to lean over and nibble on them. “I’m sure we can, ah, try this again another time. If the want arises.”
Close enough that Gale shivers under the feeling of Astarion’s breath in his ear, Astarion says, “I can think of a different want that will be arising soon, if you know what I mean.”
Gale gives an inelegant snort, face twisting up in faux disappointment as he attempts to stare Astarion down. “We talked about this, Star.”
“That you want more sex jokes from me in your life?”
“Yes, my love,” Gale deadpans. “That’s exactly what we talked about.”
Astarion stands up and tugs on their joined hands until Gale gets up as well with an exasperated grin. “Let’s go home, darling.”
“So I can endure another round of terrible sex jokes from you?” Gale groans, but he goes willingly.
“And a few other types of rounds, yes.”
They’re giggling like idiots as Astarion weaves them through half-drunk patrons. Stepping out into the night is a breath of fresh air after the bogged-down scent from the bar.
“Well,” Astarion begins conversationally once they’re sitting in the car, faces bright red from wheezing, “as much fun as seeing you try to be suave was, I think I prefer you awkward.”
“I sure hope so because you’re not getting me any other way.” Gods, Gale is beautiful when he smiles like that.
“How about—”
Gale cuts him off with a deep kiss. “Save the sex jokes for the bedroom, dear.”