[He leans back just a pinch, letting himself rub against Astarion's hand like a dog begging for attention before returning to his work on his pale leg. His lips press roughly against Astarion's calf.]
I would move the stars for you. Form new constellations in your image. I would bathe the sky in color, any you could imagine.
[He reaches Astarion's knee, nipping at it as he goes over the bend.]
I would change this tower to however you wanted. A home? A keep? It is yours to demand.
[His fingers dig into Astarion's thigh as he kisses the inside of it; he swallows down the heat bubbling in his abdomen.]
And if anyone dares to hurt you? Were someone to judge you for what you are and take it upon themselves to threaten the peace we have found? I am not a violent man, but I would raze them to the ground. There would be nothing left of them but the memory of their existence.
[It's quite telling that it's Gale's final admission, the threat of violence and vengeance, that stirs Astarion the most. His arousal hasn't truly flagged since he joined his lover in the tub, but the combined touch of Gale's lips and the sweet honey of his words draws a flush to Astarion's cheeks as well as his cock. He doesn't bother to hide the soft groan slipping from his lips as his hand curls into a loose fist to better grip Gale's hair.]
Mmh, but wouldn't that be a delicious sight. Gods, I would take you there on their ashes. You truly spoil me, my love.
[Astarion's fingers in his hair, tighter against his scalp as he lets out a groan, only encourages Gale more. He closes his eyes as his lips trace the skin between Astarion's thigh and groin, his imagination quick to turn his partner's words into fantasy.
Their enemies fallen, their desiccated corpses crumble to dust before him and Astarion, the heat of magic still lingering in the air; the Weave curls around his palms just as Astarion's hand curls in his hair, pulling him into a wanton kiss. It's feverish and fervent, the two of them tumbling to the ground as desire overwhelms them: they tear at one another's clothing, lust turning them into desperate, wanton creatures. Sweat on their skin mingles with the ash and embers beneath them as they revel in their victory over the dangers that face them, over the gods and life itself.
Gods, that thought goes right to his cock, and he has to fight to keep himself from rutting against the edge of the pool right then and there. His beard brushes against Astarion's length as Gale slips by it; he hums agreeably as his lips play with Astarion's balls, one hand tugging at his left thigh to give himself more room, the other slipping down to grab his ass, allowing his thumb to brush against Astarion's entrance.]
[Astarion can't resist spreading his legs wider at Gale's touch. He's teased enough, and between the collar and thoughts of bloodshed and power he aches to have more of Gale's touch on him. He lets his head fall back with a low moan, tightening his grip on Gale's hair to keep him held in place.]
Gods, what a good pup you are. Should I let you have me? Have you earned it?
[Gale lets out a groan of his own at that tug to his hair - as Astarion surmised, he clearly likes pain with his pleasure. His throat rattles from it, the sound pressed to Astarion's skin.]
Please, Astarion, I...
[He teases Astarion's ass once more, his lips at the base of his cock as it takes all the restraint in the realm to keep himself from going any further; he can't help himself this time, letting his own erection grind against the edge of the pool.]
[His words are nearly a moan themselves, dragged deep and low from his chest. The hand at Gale's hair releases him only for the moment it takes to hook his fingers in Gale's collar and drag him closer, all but forcing the heat of his erection against the rough texture of Gale's cheek and chin ]
Your reward, my sweet. Ready me for that needy cock of yours.
[The drag of Astarion's cock against his beard draws a whine from Gale, one he does his best to stifle; the pressure from the collar on the back of his neck might as well be the grip of his lover for the heat it sends through him.]
Yes, my love.
[He's breathless, obedient as he tugs at the Weave, conjuring oil to his fingers as he tentatively presses a finger into Astarion. He kisses the vampire's pale cock, tonguing along its length, servicing only as he is allowed. Mystra might think of less of him for how desperate he is, his hips writhing with need, but he has given this power to Astarion freely, willingly - he trusts him more than he can say, and for a man of many words, that truly is a feat.
He parts just long enough for words, ones that nearly catch in his throat; he has to swallow to keep his desire down.]
My hair. [He knows he shouldn't be making demands, but—] Take my hair again. I- I liked that.
[Astarion gives a low, indulgent groan as Gale's finger presses in. The heat of his touch is always delicious, but warmed by the bath it's a particularly delightful sensation. Gale warming him from the inside out, bringing Gale's own blood to build the flush in Astarion's cheeks, the bright red of his cock.
He gives a loose thrust against Gale's lips before he speaks, not bothering to restrain himself. When Gale makes his request, Astarion's hand is already drifting towards his hair, his lips spread in a sharp grin as he hears his lover's desperate plea.]
I should guide you, hm? My pup needs a firm hand, does he? Well, let me put you in your place.
[He grabs a rough handful of Gale's hair in his fist, jerking his head up and back so that he can press the head of his cock to those plush lips.]
[Gale opens his mouth readily, allowing his tongue to slide under the head of Astarion's cock, his lips closing over the top as he begins to work. Logically, the pain in his scalp should be a detriment to his enjoyment, as should the degrading way he's being treated - and yet, he smiles as he takes Astarion's length into his mouth, his teeth skimming along the top of his tender skin. Whatever concerns Gale initially had on how Astarion might feel about this particular scenario seem to have been silenced if the way he groans says anything.
As Gale works his thumb into Astarion with one hand, his other strays from his partner's thigh to his own, his fingers brushing against his erection. His hand pauses with momentary conflict: as much as he wants to soothe his own arousal, he's not been given permission to do so, and with a mouthful of Astarion, he can't exactly ask.]
[Astarion's groan says everything, especially with the moan that chases it at the brush of Gale's teeth. He thrusts easily into that welcome heat, digging his nails into his lover's scalp so that he can feel that bite.]
Oh, you are a wonder, a blessing. I want to feel you in me, darling. I want your heat.
[He spreads his legs wider in invitation, his body welcoming the press of Gale's fingers, greedy for more. The absence of the hand at his thigh doesn't matter now, only the stretch inside him and the soft heat of Gale's tongue on his cock.
[Gale's fingers curl as Astarion's nails rake against his scalp; he lets another needy groan escape him as he presses in another finger, all too eager to do as he's told - and all the more aroused by it. Though he continues to lavish Astarion's cock with attention, his own remains unattended, sensitive and swollen with desire. It's when his member grinds against the lip of the pool that he has to pull back, his mouth free as he shudders, struggling to withstand the painful pressure.]
Sorry, I— [The apology is reflexive, one he was no more capable of reeling in than his aching arousal. His face feels impossibly hot, as red as can be as he tries to compose himself to continue.]
[The discomfort on Gale's face, the instant apology is enough to jar Astarion out of the moment. It can't be the pull at Gale's hair that's caused him hurt, Astarion's been far rougher with him in the past. But it still chills him, forces him to release his hold and cup his palm against the nape of the wizard's neck.]
[Astarion gives a huff, running his fingers through Gale's hair and shifting to peer into the tub—without dislodging Gale's fingers, that is. He is going to perceive you, Gale Dekarios. Every bit of you.]
You haven't brought a premature end to our little play, have you?
That painful throbbing from his cock keeps him from going too far down that rabbit hole. His hands tremble - including the one in Astarion - as he refocuses.]
[It may be a tremor born of nerves but the twitch of Gale's touch inside him makes Astarion shiver all the same. He knows the perfect way to deal with this little situation. If Gale's so aroused from Astarion's rough treatment, why not share it?
With a reluctant sigh, he shifts again, hooking his fingers in Gale's collar and leaning back in one fluid motion. His legs spread wide in offering, one ankle hooking over his lover's shoulder.]
Well then, you've been a good pup. Claim your reward.
[He emphasizes the offer with a sharp tug to the collar. Better get up here, Gale.]
[Oh, get up there he does - Gale eyes that ankle over his shoulder in near-disbelief before he slides into place between Astarion's legs, grateful his awkward moment was brushed past for the time being. He'll make it up to Astarion, surely.
He starts by leaning over his lover, allowing his erection to press against him as he lays some aggressive kisses onto his collarbone, Gale's lips trailing upward toward the bite marks on Astarion's neck as he positions himself below. Despite his mouth being busy, words slip through.]
You'll have to forgive my eagerness, I- gods, I've wanted you all night.
[Astarion leans back easily, moving his hands to tangle in Gale's damp hair. The illusory grass tickles at his back, the conjured sunlight warm against their skin, backlighting Gale's ardent expression in a way that's poetic in its beauty. He's almost tempted to draw attention to it, to see if he can darken the flush on his lover's cheeks, but Gale's touch has his mind elsewhere.
Indulgent, Astarion arches his back to press his own erection against Gale's with a low moan. His grip tightens to tug at the wizard's hair, guiding his lips up the line of Astarion's outstretched neck to his jaw. His voice is breathless and wanting, a harmony in reply to Gale's own words.]
All night, hm? And just where did the night begin, my pet? How long have I held your mind captive with the thought of showing me the pleasure that sweet cock of yours can bring?
[Gale lets their cocks press together a moment longer, breathing a confession into Astarion's skin.]
I might have had impure thoughts of you at the dinner table. And on the walk over, in the alley.
[Another kiss as he slips a hand between them, lining himself up to press into Astarion; despite the position they're in, he averts his eyes and reddens even more at some private thought, color seeping into his shoulders from his neck.]
[Astarion groans at the first hot press of Gale's cock into his body. Even though he's had it more frequently as of late, it's still a marvel every time. The thick heat radiating inside of him, the sharp scent of Gale's arousal flooding his senses, and knowing that Gale desires him because he's loved, because he's wanted and needed, is near overwhelming. He nearly forgets himself, clinging tightly to Gale's hair, his heels dragging over Gale's lower back to urge him on.
His eyes open to the sunlight above. He can't remember when he closed them, but the sight is blurred now with tears at the edges of his vision and a pleading moan drawing from his throat. There might have been some quip on his lips, some flirtation over how Gale could think of him like this at the dinner table, in the presence of Tara and his own mother, but it's long forgotten. Instead, he draws a breath to push words out, his voice thick with lust.]
[Gale wants to explain himself - of course he does - but there is not a coherent thought in his head once Astarion moans beneath him. He grunts in tandem as he presses inward; his partner is tight, something Gale will chide himself for later.
Another groan, one that reverberates in his throat; he leans over Astarion, one hand coming to rest on the leg thrown over his shoulder. His entire frame trembles as he rocks, encouraged by the heels against this back. He should have allowed them more time for foreplay, he thinks, should have—]
Were that true, I—
[He's cut off by a sharp exhale, one that interrupts both his internal voice and spoken word. His fingers curl, locks of chestnut hair falling across his face. Despite his heady tone, bleary eyes, and foreplay-ruining eagerness, he stills, waiting, making sure the stretch isn't too much for Astarion.]
[No, none of that. Astarion jerks Gale's gaze towards him by the white knuckled grip on his hair. A distant part of him knows what the rough treatment will do to Gale but that's rather the point of it.]
It is true, you daft little animal. Now—you have waited, haven't you? Give me your desperation. Fuck me for every heartbeat that I've kept you waiting.
[He emphasizes the words with a sharp roll of his hips, driving Gale's cock deeper. His breath catches, back arched with a hungry moan as the motion drives against his own sweet spot.]
[That grip to his hair draws Gale's focus; his eyes settle back on Astarion as a sharp grin does the same on his lips. The pressure around his cock as Astarion rocks against him makes his breath hitch in his throat, words tumbling from him before he can catch them.]
Gods, what would I do without you.
[He sucks in a breath through his teeth. No longer concerned about anything else — not the awkwardness he created, not what Mystra would think of his desire for degradation, not even the lingering anxiety he feels regarding their future together — Gale finds his rhythm, his confidence rising along with it. He lets sensation overwhelm him, lets it wash away the steady stream of thought that normally crowds his every waking moment; there's only the two of them now, himself and the lover to whom he's given himself entirely.
They belong together, and gods, does he like that.
Gale does as he's told and presses harder, faster, rougher than he might normally be, his fingers curling, eyes squeezed shut as he buries his face in Astarion's shoulder. Astarion wanted his desperation, and he shall have it.]
[And Gale's desperation is delicious. Every thrust, every ragged breath against his skin leaves Astarion wanting. He keeps his grip held tight in Gale's hair, his body rising to meet Gale's eager tempo. The heel of the foot not flung over Gale's back digs into arcane grass and dirt for leverage so he can open himself wider, allow Gale even deeper inside him.
It's a cacophony of sensation, but through Gale he's learned to feel the sweet melody of it once again. But only for Gale. Only for this sweet, desperate man. His lover, his intended, the man who knows his entire heart and wants him all the same. Astarion lets out a low, needy moan, words lost on his tongue as he presses his nose and lips to the damp of Gale's temple, wanting more, urging him on.]
[Color blossoms all around them, both in the sky and among the illusory grass. Gem-like flowers crystallize from the taller stems, their petals as translucent as tinted glass, their facets glittering in the sun's rays; they mirror the stars still visible in the clouds of dawn, flickering lights peering through their vibrant hues.
Though the conjured world around them remains serene, a tempest builds in Gale as he loses himself in Astarion, in the irrepressible want and need. Words tumble from his lips as it swallows him whole: Astarion's name a half-dozen times, gentle whispers of adoration, sweet promises he would keep could he remember them through the haze of desire.]
Please—
[He murmurs, pleading, struggling to hold on as his body tenses and stills; he was so close already, and every second he has Astarion wrapped around him feels like wonderful agony.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I would move the stars for you. Form new constellations in your image. I would bathe the sky in color, any you could imagine.
[He reaches Astarion's knee, nipping at it as he goes over the bend.]
I would change this tower to however you wanted. A home? A keep? It is yours to demand.
[His fingers dig into Astarion's thigh as he kisses the inside of it; he swallows down the heat bubbling in his abdomen.]
And if anyone dares to hurt you? Were someone to judge you for what you are and take it upon themselves to threaten the peace we have found? I am not a violent man, but I would raze them to the ground. There would be nothing left of them but the memory of their existence.
no subject
Mmh, but wouldn't that be a delicious sight. Gods, I would take you there on their ashes. You truly spoil me, my love.
no subject
Their enemies fallen, their desiccated corpses crumble to dust before him and Astarion, the heat of magic still lingering in the air; the Weave curls around his palms just as Astarion's hand curls in his hair, pulling him into a wanton kiss. It's feverish and fervent, the two of them tumbling to the ground as desire overwhelms them: they tear at one another's clothing, lust turning them into desperate, wanton creatures. Sweat on their skin mingles with the ash and embers beneath them as they revel in their victory over the dangers that face them, over the gods and life itself.
Gods, that thought goes right to his cock, and he has to fight to keep himself from rutting against the edge of the pool right then and there. His beard brushes against Astarion's length as Gale slips by it; he hums agreeably as his lips play with Astarion's balls, one hand tugging at his left thigh to give himself more room, the other slipping down to grab his ass, allowing his thumb to brush against Astarion's entrance.]
no subject
Gods, what a good pup you are. Should I let you have me? Have you earned it?
no subject
Please, Astarion, I...
[He teases Astarion's ass once more, his lips at the base of his cock as it takes all the restraint in the realm to keep himself from going any further; he can't help himself this time, letting his own erection grind against the edge of the pool.]
Let me have you. Please.
no subject
[His words are nearly a moan themselves, dragged deep and low from his chest. The hand at Gale's hair releases him only for the moment it takes to hook his fingers in Gale's collar and drag him closer, all but forcing the heat of his erection against the rough texture of Gale's cheek and chin ]
Your reward, my sweet. Ready me for that needy cock of yours.
no subject
Yes, my love.
[He's breathless, obedient as he tugs at the Weave, conjuring oil to his fingers as he tentatively presses a finger into Astarion. He kisses the vampire's pale cock, tonguing along its length, servicing only as he is allowed. Mystra might think of less of him for how desperate he is, his hips writhing with need, but he has given this power to Astarion freely, willingly - he trusts him more than he can say, and for a man of many words, that truly is a feat.
He parts just long enough for words, ones that nearly catch in his throat; he has to swallow to keep his desire down.]
My hair. [He knows he shouldn't be making demands, but—] Take my hair again. I- I liked that.
no subject
He gives a loose thrust against Gale's lips before he speaks, not bothering to restrain himself. When Gale makes his request, Astarion's hand is already drifting towards his hair, his lips spread in a sharp grin as he hears his lover's desperate plea.]
I should guide you, hm? My pup needs a firm hand, does he? Well, let me put you in your place.
[He grabs a rough handful of Gale's hair in his fist, jerking his head up and back so that he can press the head of his cock to those plush lips.]
Get to work.
no subject
As Gale works his thumb into Astarion with one hand, his other strays from his partner's thigh to his own, his fingers brushing against his erection. His hand pauses with momentary conflict: as much as he wants to soothe his own arousal, he's not been given permission to do so, and with a mouthful of Astarion, he can't exactly ask.]
no subject
Oh, you are a wonder, a blessing. I want to feel you in me, darling. I want your heat.
[He spreads his legs wider in invitation, his body welcoming the press of Gale's fingers, greedy for more. The absence of the hand at his thigh doesn't matter now, only the stretch inside him and the soft heat of Gale's tongue on his cock.
no subject
Sorry, I— [The apology is reflexive, one he was no more capable of reeling in than his aching arousal. His face feels impossibly hot, as red as can be as he tries to compose himself to continue.]
no subject
Darling—? Gale, dearest, what is it?
no subject
I just didn't expect to be so —[he swallows hard, taking a breath]— egregiously aroused by this. I did, of course, but...
[He lets his head fall. Don't look at him, Astarion. Don't perceive him like this.]
I was hoping to keep pace with you.
no subject
You haven't brought a premature end to our little play, have you?
no subject
[Gods, he's embarrassed. He takes another deep breath as his heart thuds away in his chest, all too reminded about how painfully human he is compared to his beautiful, perfect fiancé. And now look, he's gone and ruined the mood.
That painful throbbing from his cock keeps him from going too far down that rabbit hole. His hands tremble - including the one in Astarion - as he refocuses.]
no subject
With a reluctant sigh, he shifts again, hooking his fingers in Gale's collar and leaning back in one fluid motion. His legs spread wide in offering, one ankle hooking over his lover's shoulder.]
Well then, you've been a good pup. Claim your reward.
[He emphasizes the offer with a sharp tug to the collar. Better get up here, Gale.]
no subject
He starts by leaning over his lover, allowing his erection to press against him as he lays some aggressive kisses onto his collarbone, Gale's lips trailing upward toward the bite marks on Astarion's neck as he positions himself below. Despite his mouth being busy, words slip through.]
You'll have to forgive my eagerness, I- gods, I've wanted you all night.
no subject
Indulgent, Astarion arches his back to press his own erection against Gale's with a low moan. His grip tightens to tug at the wizard's hair, guiding his lips up the line of Astarion's outstretched neck to his jaw. His voice is breathless and wanting, a harmony in reply to Gale's own words.]
All night, hm? And just where did the night begin, my pet? How long have I held your mind captive with the thought of showing me the pleasure that sweet cock of yours can bring?
no subject
[Gale lets their cocks press together a moment longer, breathing a confession into Astarion's skin.]
I might have had impure thoughts of you at the dinner table. And on the walk over, in the alley.
[Another kiss as he slips a hand between them, lining himself up to press into Astarion; despite the position they're in, he averts his eyes and reddens even more at some private thought, color seeping into his shoulders from his neck.]
no subject
His eyes open to the sunlight above. He can't remember when he closed them, but the sight is blurred now with tears at the edges of his vision and a pleading moan drawing from his throat. There might have been some quip on his lips, some flirtation over how Gale could think of him like this at the dinner table, in the presence of Tara and his own mother, but it's long forgotten. Instead, he draws a breath to push words out, his voice thick with lust.]
Gods—every time, you are perfection.
no subject
Another groan, one that reverberates in his throat; he leans over Astarion, one hand coming to rest on the leg thrown over his shoulder. His entire frame trembles as he rocks, encouraged by the heels against this back. He should have allowed them more time for foreplay, he thinks, should have—]
Were that true, I—
[He's cut off by a sharp exhale, one that interrupts both his internal voice and spoken word. His fingers curl, locks of chestnut hair falling across his face. Despite his heady tone, bleary eyes, and foreplay-ruining eagerness, he stills, waiting, making sure the stretch isn't too much for Astarion.]
no subject
It is true, you daft little animal. Now—you have waited, haven't you? Give me your desperation. Fuck me for every heartbeat that I've kept you waiting.
[He emphasizes the words with a sharp roll of his hips, driving Gale's cock deeper. His breath catches, back arched with a hungry moan as the motion drives against his own sweet spot.]
no subject
Gods, what would I do without you.
[He sucks in a breath through his teeth. No longer concerned about anything else — not the awkwardness he created, not what Mystra would think of his desire for degradation, not even the lingering anxiety he feels regarding their future together — Gale finds his rhythm, his confidence rising along with it. He lets sensation overwhelm him, lets it wash away the steady stream of thought that normally crowds his every waking moment; there's only the two of them now, himself and the lover to whom he's given himself entirely.
They belong together, and gods, does he like that.
Gale does as he's told and presses harder, faster, rougher than he might normally be, his fingers curling, eyes squeezed shut as he buries his face in Astarion's shoulder. Astarion wanted his desperation, and he shall have it.]
no subject
It's a cacophony of sensation, but through Gale he's learned to feel the sweet melody of it once again. But only for Gale. Only for this sweet, desperate man. His lover, his intended, the man who knows his entire heart and wants him all the same. Astarion lets out a low, needy moan, words lost on his tongue as he presses his nose and lips to the damp of Gale's temple, wanting more, urging him on.]
no subject
Though the conjured world around them remains serene, a tempest builds in Gale as he loses himself in Astarion, in the irrepressible want and need. Words tumble from his lips as it swallows him whole: Astarion's name a half-dozen times, gentle whispers of adoration, sweet promises he would keep could he remember them through the haze of desire.]
Please—
[He murmurs, pleading, struggling to hold on as his body tenses and stills; he was so close already, and every second he has Astarion wrapped around him feels like wonderful agony.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)