mystracal | 🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

[Astarion nods, drawing his thumb across Gale's lips.]

I can make it easier for you.

[He sits up, just enough so he can find one of his bottles of oil before returning to Gale.]

[Glad he doesn't have to wait long, Gale reaches to touch Astarion's face, to keep looking into those crimson eyes that so arrest him; some would consider them the eyes of a monster, but for Gale, they are compassionate, caring.]

I'm sure I could have conjured something, if I had half a mind to.

[He pulls in another deep breath, wanting to get lost in the smell of Astarion's skin, in the passion between them, in the heat radiating off his own face.]

Let's get back to it, shall we?

Yes, let's.

[He turns to kiss Gale's fingertips, slicking his fingers in the oil before returning to the work at hand.]

[As Astarion kisses his fingertips, Gale presses his lips to the side of his face, his jawline, then down his pale neck; the arm around Astarion's back wraps just a little tighter, giving him purchase as his partner works to loosen him. Though the wizard holds in his immediate reaction out of habit rather than purpose, he can't stifle the next quiet moan that pushes out of him as he rocks gently against Astarion.

Another moan, louder than the last, and Gale buries his head momentarily in Astarion's shoulder, sweat trailing down his temples. He murmurs Astarion's name to the muscle there, as though it would care to hear it.]

[It is very encouraging to see he can have this effect on Gale, can break his composure like this. Astarion turns to nuzzle at his temple, whispering into his ear as he slides his fingers deeper, searching for Gale's sweet spot.]

Go on, love. Tell me, how does it feel?

[Gale wants to keep it concise; given he's barely maintaining his composure as it is, he should keep it concise. However, is what is a typically Gale fashion, he explains:]

There's pressure. Not entirely uncomfortable as much as... anticipatory. Like watching- a wave prepare to crest against the shore.

[He moves his hips against Astarion's hand, sucking in a breath as he adjusts; when he exhales, it's punctuated, stuttering - and yet, his lips curl in a smile.]

To know I am in- [a small gasp, his arms trembling] -am in your capable hands and- [and another] -and that you- gods.

And that I, my dearest?

[Even Astarion feels breathless just watching Gale like this. There's no way to deny the arousal it stirs in him, the faintest flush growing on his cheeks. He both wants this to last forever and to feel Gale around him as quickly as he can. As a compromise of sorts, he presses a third finger in deep, dragging them in and pressing hard before just letting his touch rest there, unmoving.]

[That third finger is almost too much. Gale pulls against Astarion, his hand digging into the vampire's spine, the orb shining brightly between them - it illuminates the sweat slicking his skin, beads glittering like amethysts in the purple light. He forces another breath down his throat with a gasp, but between the pressure from Astarion and the bubbling in his own gut, it's pushed out before it can provide him with any relief. He takes in a quick breath, short and desperate, just to answer:]

That you would share this- intimacy—

[He swears under his breath, uttering a profanity he would never say in polite company as he feels himself squeeze against Astarion's fingers. After that, he stills, as though afraid he might unravel completely should he move.]

Edited 2023-11-08 07:22 (UTC)

[Oh, that's something he never thought he'd hear from Gale's lips. The profanity is delicious, and as soon as he hears it he wants more. When Gale stills, Astarion gets back to work, rubbing a small circle inside of him, testing the pressure so it's firm but not too hard. It's so good to hear him, to see him like this, to know that Astarion has him this way because of the love they share.]

Tell me more, Gale Dekarios.

[Gale is quiet a moment longer, trying to calm himself and realizing that might be an impossibility as Astarion toys with him, teases him, tests him. His legs spread a little farther on instinct, his whole body trembling with ripples of pain, each teetering on euphoria as his hips rock against the fingers within him; his face is afire, and though he wants more, he hasn't figured out just how to vocalize it yet.

And so he answers instead. He's sure he can handle answers, no matter how addled he is from the sparks of pleasure electrifying his veins. His body is a storm, a tempest waiting to land. How long he can wait is yet to be seen.]

That you would share yourself with me. [He gasps, shuddering, his muscles coiled as he grins through gritted teeth.] Not just body, but you.

[His body eases just a hair as he takes in another, deeper breath.]

No one has- ever made me feel like you. No one...

[He trails off as he buries his head in Astarion's shoulder once more, his voice soft, sincere, albeit strained between breaths.]

No one else would have... made the choice you did today. For me. For- for us.

[Trust Gale to take a moment so lustful and perverse and turn it into something heartfelt and earnest. Astarion feels his heart in his throat, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. He turns to nuzzle at Gale's hair, breathing in his scent. His fingers still again, his free hand cradling the back of Gale's head to hold him close.]

I could say all those things of you, you know. I love you, darling.

[He gives a soft groan, leaning down to kiss along the sweat of Gale's neck.]

Gods, I want to feel you.

[Gale can't help it, Astarion: there's fucking, and then there's making love, and Gale leans almost entirely toward the latter, especially when his heart is thundering away and he's in the arms of the man he loves so, so dearly. He finally pulls his head from Astarion's shoulder - his hair hangs in his face, his earring tangled in it, sweat racing down his skin in shimmering trails.]

Take me. I-

[He turns his neck to press his forehead to Astarion's, swallowing as his tone dips, heavy and graveled with lust.]

I want you. I need you.

Oh, I will have you.

[His voice is just as rough and heated. He pulls his fingers out, reaching back for the oil to slick himself up before repositioning. One hand hooks under Gale's knee to lift his leg, the other gripping his own cock as he lines himself up, teasing the head against Gale's entrance.]

Gale. Dearest. Darling. Look at me.

[Doing as commanded, Gale meets Astarion's eyes: his own are half-lidded, creased by his smile, deep and heavy with emotion in spite of the torrent of sensation he's experiencing physically. Despite his and Astarion's best attempts, it's been years since Gale's body was put under this particular kind of duress, and he's still clearly adjusting to the discomfort.

But the pain is a part of it, a sensation that helps him feel grounded in his own skin, keeps him focused on the moment rather than on his own anxieties or the heavy thrum of the orb. For a time, the world is just him and Astarion - no greater wants, needs, or ambitions than that.]

[No, Astarion needs nothing more than this. No power, no greatness. The look that Gale gives him in this moment is everything. If he could capture it, preserve it for centuries, it would warm his heart on even the coldest of nights. He swallows hard against the knot that's built in his throat, reaching up to brush some of the sweat from Gale's cheek with his thumb. When he speaks, his voice is tight and low, a soft, fervent urgency to his words.]

I have never in my life seen anything as beautiful as you are in this moment. That any would have ever made you doubt that is a sin against every god there ever was and ever will be. You are radiant. I've half a mind to think I might burn just from your presence. I love you. You have my heart, all of it.

[As he speaks, his hips roll forward, pressing in to Gale gently, slowly.]

[Gale's neck arches, his breath quickening as Astarion enters him, and though he tries to hold his gaze on those ruby eyes, he finds it nearly impossible as spots appear before them. His breath stutters on the way in, cool against the heat of his throat.]

And you have mine, Astarion. My heart, my love - all there is and ever will be of me.

[Despite the initial discomfort, Gale is certainly enjoying himself now; this might be the happiest anyone has ever seen him, certainly of their companions. The wizard is leagues from when they first met him, his friendly demeanor hiding that desperate, terrible hunger, the fear of what it would do should he lose control forcing him to subdue his most sincere, heartfelt emotions; he's miles away from the despair he felt in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, when the being to whom he'd dedicated his entire life and body demanded he end it, all for the vague promise of a redemption he'd never live to see.

That feels so far back now. Here, in Astarion's arms, he feels wanted, loved, coveted. He brings his lips to Astarion's in a heated, passionate kiss. As they move in a rhythmic dance, their hips entwined, their bodies are like one.]

[Every moment that passes, every heartbeat of Gale's that Astarion feels against his chest leaves him feeling more present, more confident in himself. He tangles his hand in Gale's hair as he returns the kiss with just as much passion, groaning openly against Gale's mouth with the pleasing heat of Gale's body giving way beneath him.

His body knows these motions well enough, but with Gale this time it's different, it's somehow something more. Each sound of pleasure he pulls from Gale's lips goes straight to his heart, warming him from within. He chases them, seeking, moving their bodies together so that each press of his hips can draw more of those wonderful sounds from the man beneath him.]

[Astarion's efforts are rewarded, as Gale's self-assessment of being 'unfortunately indiscreet' proves entirely accurate: the longer they are tangled together in the throes of passion, the more sound the wizard makes as he simply cannot contain himself.

A quiet whine escapes Gale first as Astarion threads his fingers through his hair, the chestnut and peppered strands clinging to his pale fingers; there's a heady gasp pulled through his nose as the vampire groans into him, the sound reverberating through his entire body. As he's pressed closer, Gale adjusts his hips accordingly, and finds himself unable to stifle the resulting moan - the slight change in position allows Astarion to advance further, and Gale's hips buck instinctually in reply. He has no hope of replicating the practiced perfection Astarion offers, particularly when a second, louder moan forces its way from his lips.

And yet, rather than be mired in embarrassment, Gale laughs with joy, unbridled and unabashed. His abdomen feels tight against Astarion's full length within him; he's so sure he'll combust from the head radiating off his skin. Exhilaration sets in as Gale rocks again, slowly this time, finding the rhythm with his partner as further hums and groans fill the air. As he climbs toward the precipice of release, he bites it back - he doesn't want this to end.]

[Gale's indiscretions are a symphony to Astarion's ears. Each one leaves him wanting more, hungry for the next crescendo, the sound of their hips driving together a sharp staccato in the quite night air. He finds himself seeking the sweat that runs down Gale's neck with his lips, his tongue tracing the glow of the orbs power beneath the skin. It's not quite the same as his blood but it's certainly the next best thing, the salty musk rich on his tongue.

Yet unlike the wanton moans that he's so adept at letting spill from his lips in the throes of passion, with Gale he finds those sounds caught in his throat. In their place he whimpers, he whines. He finds himself breathing heavy and thick, his lips trying to make words against his lover's skin, to trace the shape of his name along his pulse, but each one is choked with his fervent desire. He feels overwhelmed, drawn tight like a bowstring as he pushes closer and closer to his climax.]

[Gale's hand on Astarion's back slides to his shoulder, clinging to it as he rasps out Astarion's name against his pale skin as though it were a salacious secret shared only between them; his fingers tighten, tingling as nascent magic - born of pure desire - coalesces across his palm to his fingertips. His legs twitch, pressing into Astarion's sides as he tries to hang on, and then—

Release. He tenses as he climaxes, his hips jerking, lungs gasping for air as though taking his first breath. Stars glitter before his eyes as he rides down that haze of euphoria, his arms shaking, his skin drenched in sweat, the hairs on his chest sticking to him. The entire tent is bathed in the glow of the orb as it shines in the darkness with a vibrant, hungering light. It thrums with his heart once more, its pace rapid, almost painful.

But the ecstasy outweighs any agony. Pressing soft kisses to Astarion's jawline, Gale murmurs professions of love and adoration, Astarion's name mixed with them as he struggles to vocalize all that he's feeling, experiencing in that second. He rocks against Astarion, hanging onto that feeling for as long as possible, as though it might be their last.

Given how they tend to live on a day-to-day basis, it just may well be.]

[Better to not linger on that thought too long. Not when Gale's coming so beautifully undone beneath him. Astarion wants to savor this feeling just as long, the tight flex of Gale beneath him, the spark of magic across his skin. But he's seen Gale over the edge and it's only a small matter of time before he finds his own release, burying himself deep inside Gale. A low, throaty moan finally frees itself from his throat. He all but clings to Gale as his body shudders above him.

As soon as he's spent himself completely, he pulls away just enough to meet Gale's eyes. His hand brushes sweat slicked hair away from his lover's forehead as he gazes down at him, his own eyes wide and awestruck, his mouth parted wordlessly as he stares in open adoration and wonder. He swallows, his tongue wetting his lips and he can't stop the warm smile that spreads across his face.]

I hope that was as wonderful for you as it was for me.

[It's a breathless flirtation, but beneath it lies an almost giddy joy, excitement at having reclaimed something he'd thought he lost.]

[Gale, too, is breathless, his hair an absolute wreck, his eyes bleary from exertion - and yet, he teases as well.]

I'd say I enjoyed myself. [He gives Astarion a lopsided smile.] Just a smidge.

[In truth, it was more than wonderful. That smile stretches across his face, shaping his eyes as he caresses Astarion's cheek. Within his ruby gaze, Gale sees none of that hesitancy from before, none of the distance: just excitement, elation, his own emotions mirrored. His chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath, his hand trembling against Astarion's skin, the orb still glowing between them.]

I love you so much, Astarion. More than I can express. More than I could say in a thousand lifetimes.

[He leans up as much as he can for a kiss. Though his body aches, his need for Astarion's lips on his aches even more.]

[Astarion leans down to meet him without hesitation. To see his own joy reflected in Gale's eyes is a wonder he never thought he'd behold. It's something so precious he feels nearly overcome with emotion because of it. He tenderly cradles Gale's face in both hands, thumbs wiping away the sweat of their lovemaking. When he pulls away he doesn't go far, resting his forehead against Gale's to savor the heat radiating off his skin.]

You are everything that I thought I had lost. Everything I had given up on wanting. I truly meant it when I said you have my heart. It lives again because of you. Because of your love. Because of how much I love you.

[He knows they'll have to move before long, perhaps fetch the tub once again. Gale can't very well sleep like this and it's in no way suitable for his meditation. But he's willing to put that moment off for as long as he can to let this one linger, to truly fix it in his memories.]

[Reveling in the coolness of Astarion's skin against him, their foreheads meeting in an affectionate gesture they've shared time and time again, Gale feels almost feverish by comparison, and he wonders briefly if this is all just a dream. If so, he'd rather not wake.

Gale weaves his fingers through Astarion's hair, his other hand having trailed from his shoulder to his side, his blunt nails having left scratches on the way down. Astarion's hands on his cheeks make him feel like a treasured gift, something worth more than anything in the world - his words reaffirm that, stirring the wizard's once-broken heart. He need not worry about that anymore.]

I'll keep your heart, and you'll keep mine. My heart will know no safer place than with you.

[Unthreading his hand from Astarion's locks, he attempts some Prestidigitation to clean up; the spell fizzles. He chuckles dryly.]

I might... need a moment. It seems I'm thoroughly exhausted, more than I thought I could be.

[Not even a cantrip, Gale? Astarion gives a soft laugh, kissing the corner of Gale's mouth affectionately.]

Well. I suppose now I can say that I've fucked the magic out of a wizard. But rest assured, my heart, I'm quite familiar with doing this the old fashioned way.

[Though it does take a bit of careful movement before Astarion's able to fully disentangle himself from Gale. Once he does, he rises, unabashedly naked, and steps away for only as long as it takes to retrieve a cloth and jug of water before he's back at Gale's sides.

He starts with the face and neck, wiping away sweat and maybe a little stray blood they missed before. His touch lingers a moment at the marks left by his fangs, red as the scratches Gale's left along his back and sides.]

I think I like the look of this on you.

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