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The first time Gale saw him, he wondered, genuinely, if the man had ever seen the sun a day in his life.
The man was all limbs and sharp edges and really giving meaning to the phrase ‘lily white’. His long, black, billowing shirt and large umbrella, also black, stuck out quite a bit amongst the sea of bold summer colors and sunbathers. He slipped between said beachgoers with an upturned nose and look of disgust. Or pain? Perhaps that was just his face.
Gale, stationed at his lifeguard tower like a hairy gargoyle, watched him approach the water.
The stranger walked directly into the surf. He waded until he seemed satisfied, then stuck the umbrella into the sand below.
And then he lay down in the water. Face first, umbrella teetering.
Gale did not move.
The man did not move.
The water gently rolled over his shoulders. A mother started pointing and talking hurriedly to her husband, casting glances over to Gale’s station.
Gale sighed and got up.
🛟☂️
“I wasn’t dead,” the man said as Gale gently tried to dry him off with a novelty towel shaped like a hot dog. The pale elf sat in a chair, dripping like a drowned cat, while the fluorescents above them hummed. Gale had managed to half drag him into the tiny break room slash supply closet
“You were extremely still,” Gale said. “Like a corpse.”
“I was, ehm. Meditating.”
“You were steaming,” Gale countered. “Your skin literally hissed when I touched it.”
The man shrugged, and the angry red flush of skin that peeked through his shirt as he did so told Gale, though a lifeguard and not a dermatologist, that it would become an absolutely legendary sunburn. Or that maybe that something was otherwise extremely wrong.
“You need… sunscreen,” Gale said, bewildered about what was actually needed. Was this a medical emergency? At first, he grabbed the cheap stuff kept for people at the station, but then reached for his own – a sensitive skin, water-resistant, and reef-friendly SPF50+ (technically made for children, but Gale knew what he was about and that was finding the best item backed by research and whatever the opposite of skin cancer was). But then he took another look at the man who looked like a cross between a Victorian child with consumption and a lobster, and so decided… aloe? Maybe?
Gale held them both up to man; undoubtedly, his confusion was written plain his face, but Gale was so lost that he didn’t bother hiding it, his brow creased with worry and an awkward smile plastered to his face.
The other man sat up minutely and raised a brow at Gale. “Do I look like the kind of man who lets strangers squirt creams on him?”
“... Yes.”
The man blinked. Then, slowly, he smiled. “I like you.”
Gale was pretty sure the man was still steaming slightly. He was not trained for this.
“I think I should call someone.”
The elf scoffed and batted a hand at him. “None of that. I’m perfectly fine. If you must, put that useless garbage on me.”
“I think it might actually be useless in your state.” As soon as the man shrugged open his top to reveal his skin better, Gale nearly gagged. “Yep, that’s – whew, ah – blistered. Gods, are you… Are you allergic to the sun, sir? You were barely out there…” Photosensitivity wasn’t something he’d had to handle in surgery, but it didn’t really look like that in his recollection.
“Fine, yeah, sure, just a sun allergy, which means this is normal for me, yes? Ugh. You’ve really taken the wind out of my sails with this beach outing. I’ll come back another time.”
Gale managed not to plead with him. “I think it wise to see a doctor in the meantime?”
“Sure.” The man pulled back up his shirt, stood up, and looked around, hands on his hips. “Did you leave my bloody umbrella?”
“I wasn’t worried about the umbrella. Did you hear when I said you were steaming?”
“Well, now I have to go and get it.”
“Absolutely not.” Gale sighed. “How about I go get it for you.”
The man beamed.
🛟☂️
The man’s name was Astarion. Or that’s what he said as he sat in Gale’s window by his bed at 3:17 a.m. Gale had woken up from the knocking.
“Why are you shouting?” Astarian yelled over him. “I’m not even in your house. See?”
When Gale was done shrieking, he cried, “Is that supposed to make me feel better!? That you didn’t just–! Waltz in uninvited after you stalked me home?” Tara hissed from under the desk, too, which made Gale have a little swell of pride as he brandished the lapdesk from his bedside.
The man ignored his question. “You’re very easy to find online. You should probably look into that. I barely know anything about computers and still tracked you down.” He did a sort of snort-laugh to himself that was maybe one of the most homosexual noises Gale had heard in his life.
The brief introductions were made, though apparently Astarion already knew of him. Former surgeon turned educator after an ethics issue and messy divorce, who took up swimming suddenly (it had been an attempt to help with the divorce weight fluctuations, but thank the gods Astarion didn’t know that personal tidbit), now a lifeguard during summers in the lull of the academic year.
Astarion. A self-described survivor. A reluctant performer. That was all he divulged, meaning Gale was definitely on the back foot and also in the presence of a highly melodramatic and possibly disturbed stranger.
And why on the gods’ green Toril was he here?
“I told you. I like you.”
Gale recalled some of the documentaries his mother had watched when he was practically a babe – back before true crime podcasts, it was just horrible telly played on the same channels as ghost documentaries and Watch chases (thank all the gods she’d moved on from that shite). Many were bizarre tales of hags, mimics, various bird-adjacent beings who could lure you out from your home… but some of it was just some good ol’ stalking, mental health concerns, or serial killers. None of these options sounded good to Gale, but he also had no idea what to do about it.
“Um. So. Astarion. You like me,” he said slowly, “and now you’re here, with me. What–ah.” It wasn’t often words failed Gale. “How can I help?”
“I was rather thinking, maybe, I could reward you once you put your smart little doctor brain to the test to help me find how to overcome my little… Sun allergy.”
“I’m no longer a licensed doctor, nor did I ever have a specialty in dermatology, genetics, or really any relevant field.”
“Well, I certainly don’t know anything about it, so you’re my best option right now.”
Gale again spoke slowly, “Do you suppose you could just… go to one?”
“Well, Gale, as you noted earlier, I tend to blister and sizzle, and all the doctors are open in the daytime.”
Gale paused as he genuinely thought for a moment. “What about in the Underdark? I know there are fewer, but there are some excellent healthcare fac–”
“No.” The force of Astarion’s voice made Gale jump a little. “I’m not going back down there. It’s been. Well.” A sarcastic smile. “Let’s just say it’s been a very long time.”
The smile. Gale saw them then.
“You–” He gulped. “By the gods… You’re. Oh goodness. Hoh. Ha. Haha…” Gale started awkwardly laughing and holding his head.
“What! What’s so funny.”
“Oh, it’s just. I thought you were here to wear me as a second skin or something. You just want to eat me.”
“What?”
“You’re a vampire, yes?”
Astarion bristled. “Even if I was, what would be funny about that.”
“Nothing! Nothing, truly. You could kill me the moment I leave my home. I was worried it was a mental health thing. I’m not good at dealing with that.”
“Yes. And you’re obviously very good at dealing with vampires.” Astarion folded his arms.
Gale was pretty sure he was pouting.
“... Your skin looks better,” he noticed, now that he wasn’t paralyzed with the fear of the unknown. It was much easier to face your potential death when you knew what it might look like.
“I ate and tranced some.” He waved his hand like he was batting away the thought. “Some of my neck will take another day or so, but today wasn’t bad at all.”
“You… Went in the sun on purpose, then?”
“Trying to see if I can build up a tolerance.”
“Interesting. Any luck?”
“None whatsoever.”
Gale could feel that Astarion was trying to hide his disappointment. Gale was honestly disappointed for him. He was a sucker for a good experiment.
“And why the beach?”
“Bored. And it’s been a while since I’d seen the coast.”
“Can’t bodies of water hurt vampires?”
“Oceans are not consistently unidirectional, nor was I trying to cross it.”
“Fair enough.”
Tara was settled now, sitting next to and half behind Gale, but her gaze and body were anything but relaxed. Gale couldn’t blame her; he hadn’t exactly put down the lapdesk either.
“If you drain me, could you spare my cat? Maybe give me a chance to call someone to find my body and come get her?”
“What?”
“Surely I’m enough of a meal, I mean. Granted, I know nothing of vampire physiology, but I’m a somewhat large man–”
“Gale, I’m not here to eat you. I really do…” Astarion huffed. “…Need a hand.”
“Oh.” Gale didn’t know if he could totally believe that, but he found himself smiling anyway. “Well. That is most wonderful to hear.”
Gale listened to Astarion complain that he should have found a mortal that lived longer, maybe an elf like himself. But he all but said he had such a poor record of trying to get to know anyone or know how to tackle the problem that when Gale was kind to him…
Gale was hardly one to judge when he, too, knew what loneliness was like.
Eventually, it was impossible not to notice the sky brightening, even if the sun had yet to peek out across the horizon. Astarion sighed. “I suppose you couldn’t invite me in…?”
“Absolutely not,” Gale said cheerily. “And besides, I would also like to sleep at least some before my shift.”
“Ah. Right, yes.” Astarion tutted. “Another reason humans are useless. Oh well. See you later.” He hopped down from the second-floor window before Gale could interject, then started down the street whistling like he hadn’t just terrified a man for life.
🛟☂️
Two days later, Gale found Astarion in the lifeguard station again (had he picked the locks?), this time surrounded by mirrors and... strips of his own skin.
“You’re molting,” Gale said, horrified.
“No,” Astarion said, though he sounded like a lying, defensive child. “I’m… exfoliating.”
His back was to Gale, and the view was grisly.
“Yes, I’m sure you’re exoliating just like you were meditating the other day.” As Astarion peeled layers of translucent, papery skin flakes down his spine, Gale thought it looked somewhere between reptilian and... wet and plasticky. Beneath it, fresh pink glistened with some kind of ooze.
“This isn’t… normal,” Gale muttered, looking at the ground and trying not to gag. “Are you… festering? Gods, you're not supposed to peel skin off, that could–”
“I'm a vampire, Gale, I'm not going to get an infection or something,” Astarion snapped. He peeled off another long, ragged strip with a sharp inhale.
“Are you sure you didn’t just stay in the sun for four minutes too long and now your skin is – well, literally giving up on you?”
Astarion shot him a wounded glare – Gale couldn't see it because he was still solidly not looking at Astarion, but he could feel it. “You’re very rude for someone who just watched me undress myself like a crab shedding its shell. You should be appreciative for getting such a show.”
Gale gently pushed a trash can toward him. “Please dispose of your… yourself in here.”
“I’m saving it.”
“Of course you are.” He managed not to squeeze and massage his temples. “Why are you here again?”
“I was giving you time to think more about our potential arrangement and thought I'd give the tolerance thing another go.”
“If you stop making me look at your blistering body, then I’ll figure something out to try sooner.”
“Delightful. Now, can you give me a hand, darling?”
“Absolutely not.”
🛟☂️
It was Gale’s worst shift of the summer so far. It started with two jellyfish stings, escalated with a runaway paddleboard, and earned Gale a headache when there were three separate groups simultaneously screaming while playing games in the water. Gale nearly lost it when a drunken wedding party set up a karaoke machine (he was positive their rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” had ruined the song permanently for him).
Astarion showed up, glittering with sweat and death. His neon pink Speedo said BITE ME across the ass. Gale massaged the bridge of his nose as Astarion approached under his massive black umbrella. It did have a veil over it today, so maybe that was something like self-preservation.
“Absolutely not,” Gale said before Astarion even opened his mouth. The statement seemed like it was becoming something of a catchphrase whenever the vampire was near.
“I’m here to help!”
“You are literally a v… erm, allergic to the sun.”
“It’s cloudy.” Astarion did a little twirl, making the veil sweep around him.
It was. Thick gray clouds clustered over the beach. Gale had been hoping people would get the hint, but no such luck. All the clouds had done was bring Astarion in with them.
Astarion climbed onto the lifeguard platform. He twirled a whistle around one finger. "You're just mad that I could replace you."
“What are you going to do if someone starts drowning?” Gale asked.
“Laugh?”
Gale made an exasperated noise. “Get down from here. I'm working. I'll – I’ll meet you in the lot at sunset."
Later, they sat on the damp sand under the umbrella, watching the water lap the shore as the last of the light behind the clouds faded, and the clouds themselves started to lazily disappear.
It was eventually mostly dark. They shouldn’t be on the beach, a frequently enforced rule, but Gale could maybe argue they were cleaning up if they were spotted. It was almost nice. Despite being here every day, there were rarely moments he could just exist, letting his mind float along with the flow of the tide.
“I’m sorry,” Astarion murmured eventually. “For trying to be something I’m not.”
“What, a lifeguard?”
“A daywalker.”
Gale snorted. “You’re not Blade, Astarion.”
Astarion pouted. “Maybe I could be. I’d be fabulous with a sword.”
Gale shook his head. “I don’t blame you for wanting to see the sun. I can’t say I wouldn’t try myself, even if I would just, ah, go about it differently.”
There was another pause as they watched the clouds fade further, thankfully for Gale. The moon was full enough to give him some light for his probably inferior eyesight. It was bright and pearly, reflecting across the dark, endless ocean.
“So you know Blade… You watch movies?”
“I’m not dignifying that with an answer.”
“Fair enough.”
Another pause.
“You know, I’m not the best at social skills,” Gale started, “but. I’ve noticed…”
“Now, where could you possibly be going with this.”
“It’s just that you’ve made yourself rather… familiar with me quite quickly.”
Astarion was quiet for a moment before leaning back on his hands and staring across the water. “It’s been mostly me and some spawn in the Underdark for a while now. Our m–hm. The man who, um, spawned us. He’s dead now. So we’re left with… all of a vampire's hunger still, but few of their powers. And each other. Way too much of each other. And not a lot of anyone else.” Astarion started digging into the wet sand with his toes. “But you’re quite funny. A little in the joking sense, but also in the strange sense.”
“Um, thank you?”
“You’re very welcome,” Asarion said as he began drawing what looked like a dagger in the moist sand.
“I don’t know if you know this, but, as a man who has been called strange my whole life, I can confidently say that, one, I can’t help it, and two, people don’t usually say that as a compliment unless they mean it like someone who shops a bit too frequently from Grindcore or Hot Topic.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re fast fashion brands marketed to certain alternative subcultures,” he explained easily.
“What kind of alternative?”
“It isn’t geared toward vampires, if that’s what you m– Hm. Actually, I take that back. Are vampires into particularly cliche motifs, usually?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said the man with the massive black umbrella covered by a black veil with bat designs.
“Hm,” said Gale. “Well, whatever the case. Maybe don’t call folks weird. Again, I’m not one to be the pinnacle of social graces, but perhaps that would help you make more acquaintances.”
“Sounds dull. Almost everyone else I’ve met since I’ve been out hasn’t been very interesting. But you… Well, you just rolled with me being a vampire.”
“I don’t know that I’d go that far, but I don’t fault you for it, no. Can’t help our natures and all that.”
“Besides all that, you’re going to help me with my little problem,” Astarion said.
“You did attempt to blackmail me into it, which I must say, I didn’t much appreciate.”
“I did not! I even considered it and still didn’t do that. I’ve been nothing but cordial.”
“I believe a threat is implied when you appear at someone’s bedroom window, hm?”
“Oh come off it, it’s not like you were going to answer your door in the middle of the night. We had a perfectly fine conversation.”
“Gods, maybe my social graces are actually better in every sense. Hopefully I can be smooth enough for both of us to get this looked into? What have you tried?”
“Well, killing the man who sired me didn't do it,” Astarion said, studying his nails. “And though I wanted to attempt getting massive quantities of blood, but they keep it under surprising amounts of lock and key. I have tried a few fistfuls of pills, but mostly they just made me vomit.”
“What kinds of pills?”
“I don’t know, I grabbed what I could at the oncologist, since that’s what Google suggested for places that did blood transfusions. Not that I got to see any of the blood there –”
“So you, what, just stole cancer patients’ medications?”
“Don’t you yell at me, they had loads! And most of the people I saw looked like they were dying anyway.”
Gale laid back in the sand, blinking at the dark sky. “I don’t know what on Toril I’m supposed to do with this knowledge.” The moral wrestling was something he preferred to be in the past with his surgeon days. “Though I suppose I agreed to help a vampire, a species known for murder.”
“I go pretty light on the murder these days, darling.”
Gale narrowed his eyes at Astarion. “Oh, I’m sure. It’s been, what, hours? Maybe even days.”
Astarion’s voice went icy. “So many days, you might even call it decades. But there’s no reason I can’t rectify that.”
Gale sat up, waving a finger at him as he said, “Watch it. If you want my help, we can do without the threats.”
“Indeed. Don’t insult me again, and there won’t be a need.”
Gale tried to hold Astarion’s gaze, but the inhuman lack of movement and blinking ultimately unnerved him enough to break. It didn’t help that the headache from earlier had yet to dissipate. “Fine. My apologies. I much prefer to settle matters with debate, not daggers and insults. Perhaps you could tell me more about yourself and your history, and we can get a better idea.”
Astarion sort of told him a history. He was cagey on the details. Between Gale’s exhaustion and the uphill battle of figuring this out, he was soon rubbing his palms over his eyes as Astarion, in Gale’s estimation, must be very obviously lying about pieces of his past. Once he said something about a dismembered clown, Gale felt like he’d had enough.
“I think we should call it here,” he said. “I need to rest and think more.”
“Wait,” Astarion said with some urgency. “Let me…” He trailed off, then took on a sad, moping look. “Let me take you home. I… couldn’t bear it if something happened to you when you’re my one lifeline…”
Gale was caught off guard by the abrupt change in tenor. “Do you even have a car?”
Astarion cursed under his breath. “I mean, just that, well, I can protect you! You humans are so fragile. And I’ve been ever so lonely.” Gale wondered if it was a trick of the light or if Astarion batted his eyelashes at him a little.
“Hm…” He narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “And you won’t murder me or my cat? Rob me blind?”
“On my honor, I shan’t.”
Well, if Astarion was going to kill him, he could have already done it, surely.
“Fine. But again, harm my cat, and we will have some serious problems.”
“Your boundaries astound me, but will be respected. Your trust won’t go underappreciated.”
The moment Astarion got into Gale’s car, he started adjusting the seat. He gasped when he discovered a button that started Gale’s seat warmers. The grinchy look of contentment as he closed his eyes for most of the ride home was kind of endearing, despite their earlier argument.
Upon getting to Gale’s home, they discovered that Tara had not yet forgiven Astarion for his late-night visit. Gale felt bad for sequestering her, but hopefully she would adjust to the temporary arrangement by staying in his bedroom with him. She didn’t fight as he picked her up.
He laid out some bedding on his couch and pulled all his blinds and curtains tight for the morning, Tara balancing on his shoulder all the while. He looked Astarion up and down, realizing that Astarion was still in naught but a small hot-pink Speedo.
“Perhaps you’d like some clothes?”
Within minutes, Astarion was practically swimming in a set of oversized pajamas, barely held up by the drawstring. He didn’t bother with the shirt, letting Gale get an eyeful of where UV had still managed to get at Astarion’s skin through the cloudiness and umbrella-veil; the pale skin looked flaky. Somehow both dusty and wet. Though at least this time, Astarion looked less like something was festering.
Gale suddenly felt exhausted. “Alright. Are you good until tomorrow?”
“And even beyond,” Astarion purred, flopping onto the couch like he lived to be draped across a fainting divan. “I’m an excellent guest. Quiet as a corpse.”
Gale rubbed the bridge of his nose again, feeling the throb of his headache rising. “This arrangement is temporary. Strictly temporary.”
“Mm. Of course. Until we cure me of the great curse of being too dazzling for the sun.”
Tara growled low from her shoulder perch. Astarion growled back. Gale groaned.
“I’m not dignifying that with a response. I’m going to bed.”
Gale lingered a moment, looking at Astarion sprawled across his couch. A half-baked gothic nightmare in his pajama pants, skin flaking like paint. And he was looking at Gale with a smug grin.
It was ridiculous. It was infuriating. And gods help him, it was the most alive Gale had felt in months.
“I’m not saying yes. But if you so much as hiss at my cat again, I’m putting you back on the beach.”
🛟☂️
The next evening, Gale came home to the smell of something distinctly not human food. Not disgusting, exactly, just more like… Well, like the uneasy, coppery scent of a butcher’s alley at midsummer. He paused in the entryway, already dreading what foul sight he’d find.
Astarion was in the kitchen, barefoot, still in Gale’s pajama pants. But horribly, his pale hands were slick with red. A glass mixing bowl sat on the counter, filled with what looked suspiciously like blood and some kind of powdered supplement.
“Absolutely not,” Gale said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Oh, calm down,” Astarion replied breezily, stirring the concoction with a whisk. Tara hovered nearby, overseeing the motion; Gale wasn’t sure if they’d come to a truce or if she just flocked to the smell. “I was trying a protein blend. Isn’t that what men like you are always drinking after a swim?”
“That,” Gale said, voice sharp, “cannot possibly be helpful to vampires. Where on Toril did you even–” He cut himself off. He didn’t want the answer.
Astarion smirked, eyes glinting. “I’m experimenting. You said you’d help.” He picked up the bowl and poured the slurry into one of Gale’s large jars. Maybe since it was glassware, these could be washed 5 times and Gale wouldn’t gag when using them.
“I said I’d help you experiment with a cure,” Gale corrected, “Not in turning my kitchen into a crime scene.” He pushed the mostly empty mixing bowl away from Tara before she could get too close. The cat snuffed a haughty half-sneeze before jumping down and leaving the kitchen; as per usual, Gale wouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t as if Gale brought intriguing blood smells for her.
“You mortals are so squeamish,” Astarion drawled, wiping his hands on Gale’s dishtowel without shame. “But I do appreciate how easily horrified you are. It makes life – well, unlife – far more entertaining.”
Gale set the bowl firmly in the sink and turned on the tap, watching the water dilute the mixture into pink froth. His shoulders sagged. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Astarion leaned back against the counter, lips quirking into a grin both sharp and strangely soft. “Not if I can help it, darling. You’re going to be so useful, I can just tell.”
For one long, absurd moment, they held each other’s gaze – Gale practically dripping exasperation, and Astarion looking half-feral in the low kitchen light.
Gale shook his head, already regretting what he knew he’d say next.
“Fine. We’ll start with, I don't know, controlled trials of some kind. But no more doing whatever the hells this is–”
“Perfect,” Astarion interrupted, clapping his hands once, delighted. “I knew I liked you.”
Gale sighed, feeling the faint stirrings of a smile he didn’t mean to let slip. Gods help him.
🛟☂️
It was just before sunrise and much before his shift. The tide was low, the sand cold beneath Gale’s bare thighs and feet.
The imminent sunrise marked the end of the sixth of their experiments. Another failure, of course. No pills, no rituals, no diets had given him even a minute more under the sun.
Beside him, tucked under his ever-present umbrella, Astarion sat in the sand, too. Not blistered or peeling yet, since he’d drunk from Gale last night. The weird skin thing and the blood drinking thing were becoming increasingly normalized in Gale’s bizarre life.
And despite their failures, Astarion was smiling. Watching the sunrise through the veil of his umbrella as Gale watched him.
“You know,” Gale said slowly, “you don’t have to keep trying. You don’t need to prove anything.”
Astarion scoffed, but it lacked venom. “Easy for you to say. You get all this” – he gestured broadly at the horizon – “without consequence.”
“True,” Gale admitted. “But if it helps, I rather think you make the night more bearable.”
Astarion blinked at him. Then, slowly, his smile sharpened into something both a little wicked and sincere. “Careful, darling. Say too many things like that, and I might want to be nice back.”
The sun crested the waterline, bright and merciless. Astarion ducked deeper beneath his umbrella, but he didn’t move away yet. Gale stayed with him, listening to the waves.