🔮 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

Comments

[mystracal]

[An uncertain laugh pushes its way out of Gale's throat as a smile eases onto him; his brown eyes gaze upon Astarion as though he's never heard such professions of love before - and frankly, he's not sure he ever has, certainly not from anyone else.

Of course Astarion wouldn't want to think of him in that way any longer, to consider him solely for what use he has. That was the pretense under which Astarion had first tried to seduce him, when he was only thinking of survival, of his need to protect himself from Cazador.

They are so much more now.

Gale brings Astarion's hand to his lips, pressing it to his face as he bites back emotion. He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting to keep it contained. A man of so many words, yet he can't find the ones to express himself in that moment.

And so he pulls Astarion closer instead, one hand still clasping his, the other arm wrapping around him in an embrace.]

[sangwhine]

[Astarion startles a moment before he slowly puts his arms around Gale in return. He draws him in, pressing his face into Gale's damp hair. He's so unaccustomed to this kind of intimacy, he has to remember what to do with himself.

It's also the silence of the gesture, the sheer emotion he saw in Gale's eyes. He's coming to know how much it means when Gale is without words. He takes the moment to just feel Gale against him, to feel the heat of his skin, breathe him in.]

I'd like it. Being equals. Neither of us above the other. On the same footing.

[mystracal]

[Gale presses his face to Astarion's shoulder, pulling in a deep breath as he composes himself: he focuses on the tactile, on the scars beneath his fingers on Astarion's back and the vampire's face in his hair.]

I want that, as well. I want not only to be with you, but to be worthy of you. To see myself as worthy. There will be times when I am no longer sure it is enough, but I'll have you to remind me, and I promise to do the same. You are so much more than you were led to believe, Astarion.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion presses his palm to Gale's back, slowly stroking over his skin.]

If you see that in me, if you think that of me. I will try to be who you see in me. And I will remind you every day of how worthy you are.

[mystracal]

[Gale nods into Astarion's shoulder, finally releasing him. He seems to have put himself back into some semblance of order, though the tender look in his eyes no doubt reveals just how moved he was by Astarion's words.]

A kiss and a reminder each day, for as long as I live, not to mention what magic I must consume. What a needy thing I've turned out to be.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion still is so fond of that look on Gale. He catches Gale's chin in his hand rubbing his thumb along Gale's jawline.]

You are a needy thing and I've two hundred years worth of burdens for you to carry. I still think we're well-matched.

[mystracal]

Well-matched, and on the same footing. I'll be glad to carry those burdens for as long as you'll have me.

[And he hopes 'as long as you'll have me' is longer than fate would have it, given the nigh insurmountable odds they're up against at all times these days. He basks in that touch for just a moment longer, the cool touch of Astarion's skin never failing to send a shiver through him.]

I suppose we should finish up here.

[sangwhine]

I did buy us out until sunrise. So we've as much time as it takes for that to happen.

[But he does turn to fetch the bowl so he can gather some water and rinse the oils out of Gale's hair.]

[mystracal]

That should give us plenty of time to make it back to camp before the rest wonder where we've run off to. Lae'zel will be up for sure. Wyll, too.

[Gale is typically a late-riser, but his breakfast is worth the wait.]

[sangwhine]

Or wonder if we've been snatched away. Perhaps it's best that we return before their minds wander to worst case scenarios.

[He coaxes Gale to tilt his head back just a little so he can rinse his hair out without getting water in his eyes.]

[mystracal]

[He leans his head back readily, closing his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the rinse after battling his own self-worth.]

Surely there'd be signs of a struggle were we simply snatched away in the night. I like to think someone would hear us. At least Withers.

[But would he really say anything were it to happen?]

[sangwhine]

Or the dog, at least. I would honestly hope the dog or the owlbear would alert us to interlopers.

[He runs his fingers through Gale's hair as he rinses, shaking it out a little so that he can be sure he's thoroughly rinsed it all.]

[mystracal]

[Please ignore the smile that cracks its way across Gale's face, Astarion, wide enough to show a hint of his teeth. Those fingers in his hair make him melt.]

Scratch is a fine guard dog. He'll let us know if we're in for a nighttime kidnapping. I can't imagine even your kin would consider it if they saw the owlbear. Or regular bear, if that's how Halsin chooses to sleep that night.

[sangwhine]

I would be utterly unsurprising to learn that he sleeps bare, but the other way wouldn't be too far a stretch.

[How can he ignore it when he likes it so much? He runs his fingers through a few more times than strictly needed, just to relish it for a little longer.]

[mystracal]

[He leans back just a little more, his neck feeling weak.]

Can you imagine it? Your kin sneaking into our camp, thinking they'll take you, only to be met with a dog, an owlbear, an antiquated undead, and Halsin as unclothed as the day he was born. I think that would make anyone wonder what kind of company you've decided to keep in your freedom.

[sangwhine]

It would certainly make them think twice about the endeavor.

[Okay, that's probably enough. Astarion cups his hand against the back of Gale's neck to keep him from melting over and sets the bowl aside.]

[mystracal]

[If only Gale had realized how much he likes having his hair played by his lover with sooner. Until next bath. He runs a hand through it himself, surprised at how sleek it feels.]

I should perhaps set some magical wards as well. I used to, in our early days together when our numbers were few, but never quite felt the need once we had a whole party surrounding us.

[sangwhine]

Unfortunately, we now have an entire city surrounding us as well. And untold numbers within said city who seem to want us dead.

I don't think magical wards would be entirely unreasonable.

[Astarion gives a little self-satisfied smile watching Gale enjoy the feel of his freshly cleaned hair. It's nice to see someone appreciate a job well done. His hand still rests at the back of Gale's neck, soaking up the warmth of his skin.]

[mystracal]

I'll make sure your tent is warded more than most. Should anyone come near you, I shall be the first to know. [A beat, and a nod.] Assuming I'm not in it, at the time.

[He brushes his hair back with his fingers, turning to face Astarion.]

You know, it's not often I'm up at this hour. Why don't we watch the sunrise together?

[sangwhine]

I would hope that you might start spending more of your nights in my company. For the conversation if nothing else.

[Astarion pauses, considering the idea only for a moment before he smiles at Gale, that telltale crease showing on his cheek.]

I'd love to watch a sunrise with you, dearest.

[mystracal]

[Gods, he loves that crease, his heart singing at the sight. He forces himself to look away, his eyes turning to the window. Its pane is comprised of panels stained glass - a lovely sight that tints the bath during the day in an array of colors, but not much for watching a sunrise.]

I'm not sure our view will be worthwhile through that. Perhaps on a rooftop, or a solitary hill?

[sangwhine]

If it's a rooftop we need, I know several.

[He pushes himself to stand, stepping up and out of the bath, utterly unabashed at his nudity. He might showing off, even, with a little sway of his hips.]

Shall we gather our effects and take our leave?

[mystracal]

[As Astarion stands, there's a second where Gale takes in his body: his eyes trail from his face where it started, down to his shoulders and collarbone, then abdomen and the pale musculature that lies there, then lower with that tantalizing sway of his hips— and that's where Gale catches himself and averts his gaze, feeling too libidinous even when in the presence of his lover.

He gets up himself, and while his whole body has a nice flush from the temperature of the bath, his ears are the reddest of all at the moment.]

Yes, I believe that would be for the best if we wish to get a good seat. I hope this won't be our only visit to this establishment.

[He grabs a towel and does his best to dry his hair. Having entrusted his entire self to Astarion, he's apparently fine with the vampire seeing his naked body, as insecure as he may feel about it at times - it's his own ogling he's uncomfortable with, no matter how impossibly handsome Astarion may be.]

[sangwhine]

[Astarion is familiar enough with having attention and holding it to know when he's being ogled. He invites it, more often than not. Having Gale's eyes on him is different though. There's a softness to the gaze, a warmth. Astarion wonders idly what it would be like to simply let Gale gaze upon him for hours on end with nothing more intimate than sharing the sight of each other's naked bodies. It has an appeal to it.

He looks to Gale, returning his gaze in measure. His eyes slowly sweep across the full measure of his wizard, his hair sleek and clean, the dark lines and faint glow of the orb in his chest, his soft stomach, the hints of curves that come from a man who has spent most of his days in the company of books and tomes.]

No, I suspect we'll return before long.

[He waits until he's sure Gale has noticed his gaze before reaching for his own towel to dry off.]

[mystracal]

[While consistently confident that he's handsome, Gale has seen the others at camp, and it's hard not to feel a little insecure when compared to Astarion's lithe muscle, Halsin's bulk, Wyll's heroic posture and grace. He's historically avoided bathing with his companions, always undressing in the privacy of his closed tent; his camp clothing is comfortable and lush, not tight and revealing of the body underneath. Aware that his mind and intellect are his truth strengths, he's always endeavored to showcase them when given the chance.

But as Gale finishes drying his hair, the damp strands falling all around his face, he catches the way Astarion looks at him - like he's something to be treasured, like every part of him is worthy of worship. That's a look not earned by Gale's magic, but given to his body, to Gale himself. Mystra never looked at him in such a way, certainly not in regards to his physical form.]

Gods, don't look at me like that.

[He laughs as he gives Astarion a smile, somewhere between sheepish and smitten, before continuing to dry off.]