Em Kirstyn

As the weeks had passed and you'd gotten to know him, opened your heart toward him, deepened your trust and eventually fell madly, completely, utterly in love with him—every little detail about the wonderful wizard was revealed to you and to your surprise, you fall impossibly deeper for him with every passing day.

Now, as you sit lounging across the worn old bench on the balcony outside your shared home in Waterdeep, legs sprawled over his knees, you've completely forgotten whatever ancient tome it is Professor Dekarios has asked you to look over in favour of admiring the way the late afternoon sun falls upon his face.

He's gotten softer now—the months of sleeping in comfortable beds and eating balanced meals treating him much kinder than the roughness of the time spent travelling to Baldur's Gate, and he's told you he wasn't much better before, when he'd spent so long worried over his potential to bring an end to an entire city. Your eyes linger on the shapely curve of his neck, the strength of his jaw, the wisdom of the creases and lines on his face—his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads, his growing hair half swept back into a knot behind his head, warm sunlight catching in his eyelashes and making him appear almost ethereal.

"I know you're staring." Gale breaks the comfortable silence, turning his head just slightly toward you and tapping his glasses up his nose. The spectacles are a welcome addition, you think, adding to both your devilish fantasies and the overwhelming love toward him. "You're supposed to be helping me decipher that. I've got exams to prepare."

"How am I to focus on translating Infernal when you're sitting here looking the way you do?" You bite back, nothing but adoration in your tone.

"Looking like what?" He turns his head to you fully now, strands of hair falling about his lovely tanned skin, the deep chocolatey brown catching the sun just as his lashes had, lighting it golden.

"Gods, I don't know if there's a word that would suffice—an angel, perhaps?" You hum and close the book you were supposed to be reading.

He'd told you once that with you he forgets his goddess. With him you forget every other divine being in all of the realm's histories.

Gale flushes a delightful shade of red, tutting his tongue to his teeth and shaking his head slightly. "You and your ridiculous..." He trails off, "you haven't happened upon another mindflayer tadpole by chance?"

"Disgusting, and no, I assure you these thoughts are entirely my own." You grin, shuddering at the phantom feeling of something wriggling about inside your head. "What? I can't compliment you now without you doubting me?"

"Your compliments I can handle." Gale chuckles as he turns his attention back to his book, his eyelashes lighting up gold once more. "Your flattery—though once I thoroughly enjoyed—I now find myself unable to accept."

You almost pout at that, but knowing where the professor's proud nature had come from and all the years of trying to live up to—what were by all intents and purposes—unreasonable expectations, you swallow it down and instead swing your legs around and scoot closer to your beloved's warm body, the navy silk shirt he wears loose on his body, the buttons popped open lower than he'd allow under any other circumstances, and you take the opportunity to slip your hand inside and rest your palm over the steady beat of his heart. It stutters when your proximity increases and Gale releases a sigh that begins confident but loses strength somewhere in the middle.

"Darling, I'm busy." His voice wavers. You smile and nudge your nose against the softness of his hair, right by his ear.

"Ignore me." You whisper, delighted at the way the wizard shivers in response, your thumb rubbing lazy half-moons on his chest, your other arm going around his neck until your hand finds purchase on his shoulder, squeezing at the tension in his muscles. "Relax. Pretend I'm not even here."

"By the Weave—"

You smile and begin to kiss across his temple, stretching your neck up as your nose presses into his hair, inhaling the familiar scent of leather and worn book pages, plain soap and the underlying crisp smell of magic that tickles your nose as you press your lips to his skin. Both your arms go around his neck and you cup the opposite side of his face in your hand, trying not to disturb his spectacles too much as you adorn his soft cheeks with sweet smooches, humming happily as he tries his very best to continue to focus but still leans into your touch.

"My love..." Gale gives another sigh, this one sounding almost defeated as he turns his head and allows you to trail your pathway of kisses toward his lips. "You're being rather unfair."

"Unfair?" Your smile only grows as you tangle your fingers into your lover's hair and tease his mouth with your own, your lips barely brushing his. "It's not my fault you're unable to resist me."

He keens into your feather-light kisses, his mouth parting as he breathes you in, eyelids fluttering closed and his book almost forgotten—his determination so quickly abandoned now you've got him twisted around your fingertips. You hum softly and gently comb your fingers through Gale's hair, dodging his neediness to nuzzle your way back up the side of his face, your nose skimming his glasses as you press a kiss between his creased brows.

"My sweet girl..." You shuffle closer, expertly maneuvering into a kneeling position, vaguely aware of the professor finally placing his book down on the small table beside the bench before his curious hands come over to slide up your thighs and hips. "Love of my life—closer please, please—"

You smile wide at the endearment, carefully slipping your leg over the wizard's and sitting down, comfortably straddling his thighs. "I thought I was a distraction?" You gently untie the knot in his hair and let the soft strands fall free about your beloved's face before you comb your fingers through it slowly, stretching forward to press gentle kisses in his hairline every time you see a grey hair—so you end up kissing him a lot.

"Oh, you most certainly are." Gale closes his eyes as you shower him with affection, your nails lightly scratching at his scalp, his arms looping around your waist as you lean your weight into his solid body. "But a welcome one nonetheless."

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