🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

[mystracal]

tfln | invitations | and there was only one bed | undermountain alurlyath | what could be | blood bond | the price of freedom
it wore his face | dinner with morena dekarios | rediscovery

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[mystracal]

[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.]

[sangwhine]

[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.]

[mystracal]

[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.]

Are you- comfortable with this?

[sangwhine]

[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.]

I am. For now.

Should I need to halt this, you would accept it?

[mystracal]

[Gale gives Astarion a smile; it's soft, reassuring rather than laced with the hunger that obviously courses through the rest of his body.]

Of course. I promise you, whatever you need - I will accept. I would never be satisfied were you to suffer on my account.

[sangwhine]

Then I think I would like to satisfy you. Completely.

[He leans in, closing his lips over Gale's as his hands move higher, spreading wide across the wizard's chest.]

[mystracal]

[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.]

[sangwhine]

[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.]

Let me see you, love.

[mystracal]

[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.]

Dearest. I liked that.

[sangwhine]

[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.]

Dearest Gale.

[mystracal]

[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.]

[sangwhine]

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.]

[mystracal]

[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?

[sangwhine]

What?

[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.

[mystracal]

It's just—

[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.

[sangwhine]

Is "unfortunately indiscreet" wizard-speak for "incredibly loud"?

[Astarion sits back on his haunches, unsure how to take this turn of events.]

[mystracal]

Yes. Yes it is.

[Gale thinks he might be redder than he was when Astarion was making his way down his chest out of sheer embarrassment. Maybe he should just explode himself. That'd save him the mortification.]

[sangwhine]

Well, it's not something I mind.

[He pauses, fang pressed into his lower lip as he braces both hands against Gale's knees.]

Unless there's some sort of spell for it, there's only one solution I know for that particular circumstance.

[mystracal]

[He holds up a finger.]

There is a spell for silence, but I assure you that I will not be able to concentrate on it if this was just a forefront of what is to come.

[Even when aroused, he is ever the insufferable know-it-all.]

[sangwhine]

I can assure you that was only a taste of what's to come.

[Astarion pauses, considering him.]

Two solutions, then. One, we adjourn our little tryst to find a space more suitable within the city.

Two, I seal that pretty mouth of yours.

[mystracal]

You present me with such options when I can hardly think of anything but you.

[He takes a deep breath. On one hand, he's already worked up, and the camp is safer than the city, especially if Cazador is looking for Astarion.

On the other, he will never live it down if any one of their companions hears about this. Or hears this, rather. He grunts, frustrated.]

I'm going to die of embarrassment if we get caught.

[sangwhine]

[That strikes something in Astarion. He moves a hand to cup Gale's cheek, making sure to meet the wizard's gaze.]

Why would you be ashamed of it? If they knew.

[mystracal]

[Their eyes meet, and Gale's brow furrows.]

Not ashamed, just- awkward. Uncomfortable. I've always thought of intimacy as something to be shared in private.

[sangwhine]

We have the privacy of your tent, even if the others may overhear.

[Astarion drops his hand, his uncertainty growing by the moment.]

Gale, what do you want?

[mystracal]

I wanted to not kill the mood.

[He sighs, sitting up straighter, his nose wrinkled in irritation.]

I don't want them to hear. I don't want them to wonder why you're in here with me, of all people. You, who could have anyone you wanted.