🔮 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]

I felt the same way, seeing them around you. My blood ran hotter than the fires in Grymforge.

[He twists his neck a bit too far one way, wincing as a stifled whine escapes him, but the pain is momentary; Gale continues placing hot kisses along Astarion's throat, each one hungrier than the last.]

There are books on that. On how the rush of battle can stir desire.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion gives a breathy laugh, dragging his nails over Gale's back, encouraging him.]

And what do your books say, hm? About desires in the heat of battle.

[mystracal]

Oh, plenty.

[Astarion laughs as Gale is at his neck, and the wizard feels it as it reverberates through his throat. His grin widens, his teeth catching on his pale skin as he plants another kiss to his collarbone.]

The way the body prepares itself for a fight can be similar to the stimulation provided by carnal attraction. Your heart races, tension building in your muscles. The blood, the sweat.

[He's going back up Astarion's neck now on the other side.]

The thought of someone protecting you in a way no one else would.

[sangwhine]

I am certainly feeling the stimulation of carnal attraction right now.

[He's only lightly teasing, a sharp sound escaping his throat at the touch of Gale's teeth to his skin. He's never seen Gale like this before, so eager and wanting. To have the force of it directed at him alone is intoxicating. Gale wants him like this, in this moment of heady desire he has Gale's full attention.

He takes a heavy breath, reaching down to squeeze at Gale's hip.]

I want you, Gale. I want you like this.

[mystracal]

[That gives Gale pause, but it's not from lack of interest. He pushes himself away from Astarion's neck, rising to meet his ruby eyes. His face is red, his neck even redder, but his gaze is lined with the gentlest concern.]

Same rules as before. You'll tell me if I need to stop, and I'll oblige. I love you, and your comfort matters more to me than anything else.

[sangwhine]

[The gaze touches Astarion in a way he can't articulate. He reaches both hands up, cupping Gale's face in his hand as he drinks it in, memorizing the look on his face.]

I know, dearest. But let's get back to the carnal lust until then, hm?

[mystracal]

[Gale answers with a kiss to Astarion's lips, one he lets linger before he moves back down to his jaw, his neck. He slides his free hand along the vampire's side, tugging at his fine shirt, untucking it his pants.

While he might have been embarrassed at times when having attention lavished on him, it's clear that Gale is more comfortable in the art of service. He presses his lips to Astarion's neck in a tender kiss before he sucks at his skin, intending to leave a mark of his own.]

[sangwhine]

[Astarion arches up into the kiss, chasing Gale's lips as he pulls away before he settles back into the cushions, his neck stretching back for Gale's attention once more.]

Intent on claiming me as your own, are you?

[mystracal]

[That remark gets a devilish grin, one granted after Gale releases his neck, letting his teeth drag on Astarion's skin.]

Mystra noticed your work. Said nothing, but her eyes betrayed her.

[His hand trails beneath the hem of Astarion's shirt, his fingers hot against his cool skin.]

I wonder if she realizes the grasp she once had on me has slipped.

[sangwhine]

[He gives a deeply appreciative sound at the back of his throat at that comment, grinning as he arches up into Gale's touch. One hand moves to touch the bruises he left on Gale's throat, tracing the fading shape of them.]

Ah, so our plan was a success then, was it? Good. She ought to know.

[mystracal]

I wanted her to know.

[He turns his head so Astarion can reach more of his neck. Those bite marks are nearby, but he leans in, silently asking for his touch upon them.]

She'll never be a jealous lover, but I wanted her to see my devotion is elsewhere, to know that she cannot control me through my heart because it is no longer hers.

[sangwhine]

Devotion. I do like the sound of that.

[He trails his touch to Gale's chin, tilting his face up to meet his gaze.]

Show me your devotion, my love.

[mystracal]

[He meets Astarion's eyes with a look of adoration, contentment; a smile eases onto him once more, drawing creases down his face, his beard hiding the slightest dimple on one side. When he speaks, he whispers:]

Anything for you.

[Back to Astarion's lips he goes, the kiss he places there greedier than the others as hunger rises within him, the orb on his chest starting to glow. His hand beneath Astarion's shirt continues to slide upward, tracing the hills and valleys of his abdomen as he goes - and though his other hand still keeps him propped up, a third, conjured hand weaves its way through Astarion's hair, teasing the back of his neck.]

[sangwhine]

[Cantrips in the bedroom, as it? Astarion can't help but grin against Gale's lips as he returns the kiss. He can feel himself rousing with the wizard's attention. His body twists and arches to chase the heat of Gale's touch. He wants more.]

[mystracal]

[And more he'll get. Gale feels that arousal and adjusts his leg between Astarion's thighs accordingly, pressing it against the vampire's crotch and allowing friction to do the rest for now. He calls the barest amount of magic to his hands, a spark of energy that's just enough to tingle when pressed to the skin; though Astarion may love Gale without his magic, he does enjoy using it to create a more... electrifying experience in the bedroom.

He'll be keeping that pun to himself, though. He doesn't want to kill the mood (again), not when he's stealing ravenous kisses from his lover, feeling the ache of carnal yearning for himself.]

[sangwhine]

[Oh, that is new. It's so completely unlike anything Astarion's ever experienced, a startling frisson of pleasure dancing over his skin. He can't help but gasp at the sensation, a heady groan slipping from his throat as his fingers tangle in Gale's hair, deepening their kiss. His hips roll into the pressure of Gale's leg, eager and encouraging.]

[mystracal]

[As that groan and gasp pass into Gale through their lips, he can't help but smile widely, brightly before being drawn back in. He wants Astarion to feel all he can offer outside the Weave, what tantalizing new experiences they could have should they bond through it like the deities they deserve to be.

And yet, he can't say he isn't enjoying just being grounded to the mortal realm, to the sensations his physical body has to offer - and be given in turn. Astarion is the first person he's been with since Mystra; he's forgotten what it's like to be loved, cherished in such a way. And he knows Astarion's history. He deserves better, and Gale is determined to give it to him, however he can.

His hand beneath Astarion's shirt presses to his chest, massaging the muscles there, fingers dancing briefly across his nipple. He keeps his thigh steady, letting Astarion roll against it - and he finds himself doing the same to Astarion's thigh between his own legs, heat building in his abdomen.]

[sangwhine]

[Even the briefest touch of Gale's fingers across Astarion's nipple is enough to startle a moan from him. He turns hungry in the kiss, pulling Gale to him like he means to devour him. It feels desperate, inelegant, but in the moment it's perfect. He knows he'll need to remove his shirt at some point in time, but he doesn't want to tear himself from Gale just yet.]

[mystracal]

[Gale also finds himself reluctant to change anything, so enthralled by the heat between them, by that startled moan and the thrum of the orb in his chest. His tongue explores Astarion's mouth as though it would sate the lust that's overtaking him. When Gale thinks of his lover - of his ruby eyes hot and angry with primal, unbridled rage on his behalf - he's not sure anything can.

He finally has to pull away, his breath hitching as he murmurs Astarion's name, whispered between them as though it were a secret. Though one conjured hand remains in Astarion's hair, raking his scalp, another appears to grab his ass and give it a squeeze, then a third to run along the side of his hip, encouraging him to continue rocking against Gale's thigh; each hand is imbued with the same tingling magic as their creator, and seem to share in his wanton desire.]

[sangwhine]

[The addition of two more hands startles Astarion. He feels adrenaline surge through his veins for the space of a heartbeat, a weight settling in his throat that he quickly swallows away. His fingers dig in at the side of Gale's head as he quickly searches out Gale's eyes.]

Dearest—just your touch is enough.

[mystracal]

[Astarion draws Gale's attention easily enough; his eyes are a tad unfocused, his breath punctuating his words.]

Sorry. I suppose I, um. [Embarrassment flashes across him.] I got carried away.

[He closes his eyes and concentrates, and the conjured hands dissipate; it's almost as if he has to focus to get rid of them rather than the other way around.]

There we go, just us. [He meets Astarion's gaze again, uncertainty on his lips.] Are you...?

[sangwhine]

[To answer, Astarion leans in, catching Gale's lips in a kiss. It's perhaps less heated than the one they shared before, but just as wanting.]

I didn't say stop.

[mystracal]

Of course.

[He takes that first kiss as an answer and replies with a gentle one of his own, letting it linger. When they part, he presses his forehead to Astarion's, wanting the vampire to bask in his warmth, searching for ways for them to be ever-closer. His hand - his hand - goes back to roaming along Astarion's chest, tracing the contours of his abdomen before reaching the waist of his trousers.

And that's where he's careful, almost tentative; he slides his fingers along the garment teasingly, waiting for his partner to tell him to proceed.]

[sangwhine]

[Astarion reaches down, putting his hand over Gale's, leading it down to press over the swell of his erection as he rolls his hips into the contact. He gives a soft groan, his fingers flexing against Gale's wrist.]

Please, darling.

[mystracal]

[Gale's smile returns, one bearing all the signs of a man utterly smitten: it touches his eyes, colors his entire expression, seeps into his very bones the moment it crosses him. His hand fondles that swell, caressing it, rolling it underneath his palm as he rocks in tandem against Astarion's thigh, encouraging his own erection before even removing their clothes. Astarion's body is perfect - far more so than his own, softer one - but Gale doesn't need it in sight to find him irresistible.

He makes his way down Astarion's neck once more; however, he's slow in his journey this time, pressing both tantalizing kisses and salacious confessions into his jawline, down his throat, to his shoulder. He pulls the neck of that fine shirt to rest unevenly, giving him more access to the vampire's collarbones.

He pulls away just long enough for words.]

Loath as I am to part from you, I believe it's time to remove that shirt. And maybe some other things.