[Gale keeps his hands on Astarion, one wrapped around his waist; he runs the other along his partner's cheek, threading his fingers into his silver locks. He breathes deeply, nodding.]
[It thrills Astarion more than he thought it would to hear that. He drags his tongue over Gale's skin, tasting him just briefly before he latches his lips to the skin, starting to work a mark into his neck.]
[Gale leans into Astarion, his pulse quickening as he catches his skin. His hand weaves through Astarion's curls as he leans further into the pillows, pulling the vampire with him. His tug is gentle - he won't keep Astarion there any longer than comfortable.
But as for Gale, he's very comfortable at the moment, his teeth finding his lower lip.]
[Astarion goes easily, settling more firmly against Gale--between his legs--as his mouth does its work. For as much as the thought of this had turned his stomach earlier, it's different now. There's defiance in this, a challenge to Mystra's power over Gale, revenge for the way she treated him before. His hand finds Gale's hip, settling over it with a squeeze as he finishes his first mark, lifting his lips from Gale's neck only to drag them a fraction lower and begin again.]
[As Astarion settles against him, Gale's thighs spread just a little wider to accommodate. He exhales as Astarion moves lower on his neck, his body shuddering as he pulls in another breath.]
Gods.
[He finds that while Astarion works, Mystra never crosses his mind, nor the thought of how and why he's so good at this - he only revels in their closeness, in the feeling of his partner against him.]
[Astarion gives a soft groan in answer. In this position, he wants to feed, to simply prick his teeth against Gale's neck and drink him in, but the need to mind his fangs, to hold himself back just that hairsbreadth only serves to heighten the moment. He can feel himself rousing from it. His hands suddenly feel restless, moving up over Gale's sides then back down, finding the hem of his tunic and slipping under it.]
[Astarion's hands are cold against the warmth of Gale's skin, but he doesn't pull away; his hand slips up Astarion's back, his fingers curling against the fabric of his fine shirt. He can feel the heat from his face spreading down his neck to where Astarion works his skin, leaving plenty of evidence for Mystra to see.
But as much as he's enjoying it, he forces himself to feel a moment of calm, to keep his head clear. Even as he relaxes, he remains attentive to Astarion's agency, knowing it's of utmost importance.]
[Astarion pulls away to answer. He looks up to meet Gale's gaze, taking a moment for the words to sink in. Is he comfortable? His tongue darts out over his lips, chasing the heat from Gale's skin. There's no twist in his stomach, no bile at the back of his throat. He gives a nod, his thumbs running against Gale's sides.]
[Gale returns Astarion's kiss with one of his own, then another as those cold hands slide across his chest, pushing his tunic upward with them. He's eager, it's true - that much Astarion can no doubt feel in how he moves against him, his pants doing little to hide how aroused he is - but he remains gentle, allowing his partner to lead them most of the way.
The hand at Astarion's back remains, but the other sides downward to his thigh, cupping around the bend of it to pull him higher, closer.]
[Astarion slides his knee forward quite willingly, spreading Gale out even more beneath him. It helps to be in control, to dictate the pace. It thrills him, even, now that there's a moment for it to settle. He breaks off the next kiss abruptly, pulling at the hem to get it up and off.]
[Up and off the shirt goes, revealing Gale's chest - and the orb, the mark etched into his skin illuminated with his growing excitement. He can feel sweat beading at the back of his neck as he reaches up to touch the side of Astarion's face, letting his fingers grace his pointed ears. He wants another kiss - gods, he wants another.]
[Astarion will eagerly oblige him, leaning in to kiss him long and lingering. He presses one hand over the orb, fingers tracing the lines up his chest.]
Dearest.
[He lowers his head, kissing over the orb, his gaze still fixed on Gale.]
My dearest.
[Slowly he starts to kiss a trail down the center of Gale's chest.]
[Gale could have remained in that kiss forever, but he lets Astarion trail southward, the orb in his chest brighter with every kiss left upon his chest. The lines ignite along his neck, the magic touching his jawline. As he watches Astarion with a look somewhere between ardor and adoration, color blazes across his face, illuminated by the glow from his chest.]
I don't think I'll ever tire of you saying that.
[He hand slides into Astarion's hair once more, fingers curling with delight as he breathes in, his chest rising to meet his lover's lips. As much as he wants to feel more of Astarion's skin against his, he knows he must be patient - he refuses to make demands, to push him too far just yet. This is about his comfort.
As for Gale, he's just happy to be loved, no matter what form it may take.]
I could whisper it to you a thousand times over. But if it's all right with you, I think there's another pursuit I'd like to occupy my mouth.
[His hands move to the waistband of Gale's pants, lingering there in question as he looks up the line of the wizard's body. Gale is truly beautiful like this, the glow of his orb, the flush of his cheeks, the faint sheen of sweat across his skin. Astarion could gaze upon him for an eternity and want nothing more.]
[Gale glances downward to meet Astarion's eyes; he gives a nod, granting silent permission, and adjusts his hips to give Astarion the room he needs, sure his partner will move his thighs where he sees fit. He's at Astarion's mercy, and isn't sure he's prepared for it.
It's then that a terrible thought occurs to him.]
Wait. [Gods, he's already feeling breathless.] Was- there anyone outside when you came in?
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I'll be with you as far as you'll have me go, darling. Should I leave a mark on you? To make her jealous.
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I'm not sure she can even feel such things.
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[He traces a thumb over Gale's pulse, just above the collar of his robes.]
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You know I always endeavor to satisfy my curiosity.
[That's very distinctly not a no. He arches his neck with Astarion's touch.]
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[Astarion leans in, gently kissing at Gale's neck with just a hint of teeth. He's giving Gale a chance to pull away before he really gets to work.]
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Let Mystra know. Let her see.
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But as for Gale, he's very comfortable at the moment, his teeth finding his lower lip.]
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Gods.
[He finds that while Astarion works, Mystra never crosses his mind, nor the thought of how and why he's so good at this - he only revels in their closeness, in the feeling of his partner against him.]
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But as much as he's enjoying it, he forces himself to feel a moment of calm, to keep his head clear. Even as he relaxes, he remains attentive to Astarion's agency, knowing it's of utmost importance.]
Are you- comfortable with this?
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I am. For now.
Should I need to halt this, you would accept it?
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Of course. I promise you, whatever you need - I will accept. I would never be satisfied were you to suffer on my account.
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[He leans in, closing his lips over Gale's as his hands move higher, spreading wide across the wizard's chest.]
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The hand at Astarion's back remains, but the other sides downward to his thigh, cupping around the bend of it to pull him higher, closer.]
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Let me see you, love.
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Dearest. I liked that.
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Dearest.
[He lowers his head, kissing over the orb, his gaze still fixed on Gale.]
My dearest.
[Slowly he starts to kiss a trail down the center of Gale's chest.]
Dearest Gale.
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I don't think I'll ever tire of you saying that.
[He hand slides into Astarion's hair once more, fingers curling with delight as he breathes in, his chest rising to meet his lover's lips. As much as he wants to feel more of Astarion's skin against his, he knows he must be patient - he refuses to make demands, to push him too far just yet. This is about his comfort.
As for Gale, he's just happy to be loved, no matter what form it may take.]
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[His hands move to the waistband of Gale's pants, lingering there in question as he looks up the line of the wizard's body. Gale is truly beautiful like this, the glow of his orb, the flush of his cheeks, the faint sheen of sweat across his skin. Astarion could gaze upon him for an eternity and want nothing more.]
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It's then that a terrible thought occurs to him.]
Wait. [Gods, he's already feeling breathless.] Was- there anyone outside when you came in?
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[That throws Astarion a moment, he gives Gale a look before glancing over towards the entrance to the tent.]
I wasn't exactly keeping an eye out for our companions. I was somewhat occupied with my own matters, dearest.
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[He also glances toward the entrance to the tent, brushing his hair out of his face with his free hand.]
It has been some time since I indulged in such a way with my, ah. Physical body. I can be... unfortunately indiscreet.
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[Astarion sits back on his haunches, unsure how to take this turn of events.]
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