[Gale catches the look in those ruby eyes as Astarion crawls over him, his pale hands cool against the heat of the wizard's skin. Gale is warm, warmer than usual - it seems he was right about the slight fever he'd endure from the concoction, but it's a small price to pay for the excitement he feels as he meets Astarion's gaze. There's a hunger there, both in the literal and figurative sense; he'd be apprehensive in other circumstances, or even a pinch frightened, but as Astarion presses a kiss to his lips, it's Gale who returns it with a ravenous appetite, wanting more.
It will wait; he closes his eyes as Astarion drags his tongue across his neck and over his pulse. Gale's arms wrap around his partner's back to draw him closer, one hand lacing into Astarion's silver hair as he gives a silent prayer to any deity who will listen: he wants this to work so badly.
The bite is colder than he'd expected, like ice injected directly into his veins. He gasps sharply, surprised, his fingers curling against Astarion's back, gripping his hair as his chest briefly rises to meet him; he then holds his breath to hear the vampire's reaction. A word of encouragement would be nice, as would silence that indicates it's not bad enough to complain about - anything but retching would be preferable.
It's as Astarion pulls away, licking at the punctures before latching on again, that Gale finally relaxes fully. His smile widens in relief, then unbridled joy as a laugh bubbles through him, rumbling all the way from his core to his throat. He tries to swallow it down so as not to disturb Astarion's meal, but he can't help the euphoria he feels in that moment as his breath picks up, his neck arching to give Astarion more. He did it.]
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It will wait; he closes his eyes as Astarion drags his tongue across his neck and over his pulse. Gale's arms wrap around his partner's back to draw him closer, one hand lacing into Astarion's silver hair as he gives a silent prayer to any deity who will listen: he wants this to work so badly.
The bite is colder than he'd expected, like ice injected directly into his veins. He gasps sharply, surprised, his fingers curling against Astarion's back, gripping his hair as his chest briefly rises to meet him; he then holds his breath to hear the vampire's reaction. A word of encouragement would be nice, as would silence that indicates it's not bad enough to complain about - anything but retching would be preferable.
It's as Astarion pulls away, licking at the punctures before latching on again, that Gale finally relaxes fully. His smile widens in relief, then unbridled joy as a laugh bubbles through him, rumbling all the way from his core to his throat. He tries to swallow it down so as not to disturb Astarion's meal, but he can't help the euphoria he feels in that moment as his breath picks up, his neck arching to give Astarion more. He did it.]