The most terrifying part of all was that he'd wanted to say it back. I love you too. Wanted to but didn't. Couldn't, with the way the words stayed trapped in his chest, all but bursting behind his ribs while his mouth stayed firmly shut. Lying together now in the cool wash of moonlight seeping through the canvas, kept warm by one another's bodies and breath, he could feel the words welling up anew like a dam ready to burst after rainfall. He couldn't say it - couldn't stay here, or he would. Fight or flight thrummed through his veins, urging him forward with a sudden need to get the fuck out. Slowly, deftly, he disentangled himself from Gale's embrace and eased the wizard back into a comfortable resting position alone.

Ava stepped out from the pretty illusion of that four poster bed with a man who loved him and moved back into reality once again. Reality was walking barefoot alone across the dew covered grass in nothing but his smalls to make for the forest's edge and the safety of his own tent, hoping to slip away from prying eyes and eager gossiping. There was only one of their little group who might still be awake at this hour, and hopefully he'd turned in early without the promise of a nightly snack... Or, he was standing right there the moment Ava set foot in their camp proper.

"You shouldn't eat this close to bed, y'know," they teased by way of greeting, as if it was inevitable for Astarion to feed on them even tonight. As if the offering of his own blood and body was a given even on nights he'd shared himself with another. Gale knew about it, of course - the whole fucking camp knew with how loud they were most nights. He claimed not to mind, but Ava couldn't help but wonder whether the claim would hold come morning if their neck was covered in more than just the wizard's many eager love bites. His skin was an artwork of them, a smoky gray backdrop to a canvas of blossoming purple in all the spots Astarion loved to sink those fangs into most.

Well, it wasn't as though the vampire would care. No honeyed words of love had ever come from that tongue - at least, nothing genuine. Nothing more than a teasing little joke that had set Ava's heart fluttering like a damn idiot schoolboy. Stupid. He wasn't nearly naive enough to fall for that shit and was certainly no blushing maiden lured in by false promises. No, he had no illusions about what he was to Astarion, but world-weary knowledge did little to discourage the ache in his chest. He felt raw, like he'd been flayed open and left to the mercy of a scavenger, ribs cracked and heart vulnerable. A pause at the crossroad of Astarion and his own tent, before he brushed bed-mussed hair back from his throat. "You can, if you're still hungry." Can feed on me. Can have me. As if it didn't go without saying.

When the warlock made his way back to camp, one look at him proved Astarion's suspicions correct. What had been a low simmering... discontent all night, had at once blazed into an inferno. Fangs grinding against teeth, jaw clenched so hard it popped, his hands curled into fists as he reigned in the urge to go find the wizard and stab that bomb in his chest and kill them all in a fiery explosion to match the emotions ravaging through his chest right now..

A ridiculous reaction, nearly as dramatic as some of his more practiced mummeries, yet entirely too genuine. There was real anger running his veins hot, real shock making his mind blank, real upset making his mouth twitch into a scowl. He could only hope the darkness of the night was enough to hide these silly tells for sillier feelings. Mercifully, it did not take long for him to craft up his masks once more and by the time Avarice had approached and said his piece, Astarion was back in control of his outward appearances.

"Naughty boy, you think you can distract me with talk of delectable dinner?" Astarion let his gaze drag slow and lewd across the other's body, admiration clear, foolish fury not, "Oh, I see. The wizard's childish pouts and watery sad eyes finally wore you down enough for a pity fuck then?" he asked, flighty and high, smirk painted firmly back on his mouth, "How kind of you, Saint Avarice the Generous." A flourishing genuflect, mocking and amused, "And to offer sustenance to me afterwards? How sweet." he nearly purred - which was the only warning Avarice got.

More vampire than the man he pretended to be, more cruel than the gentleman he play acted, more real than he was willing to be with an upset snarl ripping from his throat, Astarion pounced. Fingers digging into his shoulders, his nails dug in hard enough to draw blood, and he wasted no time tearing into his throat in turn, right over one of those disgusting little marks given by another. In a more sound mind, he would have a passing fear that Avarice, like anyone sane, may just grab for the nearest stake at such an unnaturally vicious feeding, but all he could think of now was Gale - Gale touching him, Gale being touched by him, Gale being fucked open, Gale falling apart beneath those familiar hands, Gale looking at him with those lovelorn eyes and perhaps seeing such a look returned by Avarice.

Astarion was the real saint for being as gentle as he was with only thoughts of fucking Gale in his mind.

Even the ever delicious spice of Avarice's blood hitting his tongue was not enough to quell this furious attack being treated as if something normal for them. Astarion all but slurped at his neck, sloppy and starved, letting the blood run messily, freely down his chest - better to hide the lingering touches still pressed into Avarice's skin as bruises. He pulled his fangs free carelessly, another pull and tear of the skin, and spun them round, sending Avarice to the ground hard, sprawled upon Astarion's bedroll, half in the dirt, and followed him down rough, winding the other when he let him take the brunt of Astarion's weight on his stomach.

I'm in love with you. Ava kept hearing those words at the most unexpected moments, playing en loop around his mind all day like an echo in a cave. Worse still, they were occasionally punctuated with his brother's voice making accusations he really didn't feel equipped to think about right now. You're in love with him. Was he? Aud often knew him better than he knew himself, but his head and his heart couldn't come to an agreement. The heart said yes as it thrummed with excitement over receiving the sort of treatment doe-eyed damsels only dreamed about. Meanwhile, the head said fuck no with conviction that would brook no quarter, determined as ever to keep swiftly crumbling walls in tact.

And yet here they were standing over a simmering pot that smelled distinctly and deliciously familiar - his favourite. Much to his mounting confusion, he could feel another stone displaced from the barrier encircling his heart. "That so?" Ava mused as he sidled closer despite himself, drawn in by the welcoming aroma and Gale's hopeful grin alike. "Are all wizards such capable housewives?" A tease, but not a mocking one. Instead, their hand settled at the small of his back in some small gesture of encouragement and remained there despite any better judgement. It was a surprisingly comfortable moment as Gale prattled on, the two of them poised by the cooking pot and pressed close in such blatant intimacy.

"Mm. A bath sounds nice," Ava rumbled his agreement - it'd been too long since any of them had managed much more than hasty washes in nearby lakes or the humble basins in the Last Light Inn. "Maybe I'll take you up on that, if we ever make it to Baldur's Gate." A snort of laughter, "I'm surprised a fancy little mage like you was willing to share a bed last night with the state I came crawling back in. Pretty sure I still have blood in my hair." If his looking glass was anything to go by, there were certainly still streaks of dried crimson colouring snow white strands, not to mention the fresh, wet mess of it come morning before Aud managed to heal away the worst of Astarion's feasting. The wounds themselves were still obvious even now, even somewhat healed over as they were; punctures and scrapes of fangs through flesh evident all over his throat and chest, both bared by the scant cut of his leathers.

Turning in Avarice's arms, curling his own around the other's waist and stepping in close, head tilted back to look upon him, "Once, I could even create entire towers or homesteads with just a bit of preparation - true ones, not just the projections of last night." Once, he could do much more than his more limited power now, but he tried not to dwell on that - easy enough, with Ava's hand on his back, and the other's body looming so close now. He shot Ava a grin, undeniably flirtatious, "If ever you find your mind awake late, come to me in the night and I'll easily find a way to exhaust you to sleep - magic or no."

In an abundance of caution, he didn't pursue that line of conversation further - though the seeds had certainly taken root in his head, especially with memories so fresh from the night before. Admittedly, Gale had wound up the one exhausted far earlier in the night than Ava, but he knew the other had fallen to sleep too - had felt the heat on his side of the bed when he awoke, even if the other had already slipped out by that point.

Which had stung a bit, especially given he hadn't exactly said I love you too last night, and Gale was clever enough to know where he was probably going by slipping out before dawn - and he'd been correct, too, given the mostly healed mess of bites scattered across his neck. And yet, it was the vampire staring at them from afar, pretending he was unaffected, while Gale soaked in the touch and attention of Ava, so he found much of that sting had faded now.

"I believe I've mentioned before that I appreciate your musk, no?" Gale asked, reaching up to scratch a bit at some dried blood around Ava's collar, flecks flaking off and revealing the lovely storm gray skin underneath. "Well, if you get that scent in the heat of battle, all the better - you're a wonder to witness when your blood is high." Pointedly, he pressed forward, nosing into the hollow of the other's throat and inhaling deeply. A grin as he drew back, detangling his arms from round his waist and turning fully round to pour some more food into the cook pot - necessary for the meal and a tease to Ava, all at once.

“Ready and willing”

And for once in her life, she wasn't alone with her nose buried in a book.

Each of Benny's siblings were beloved to her in their own special ways - the very best little family a girl could ask for! - but none could relate to her truest loves of research and studying. It was... Nice to have a friend, for once. Nice and unfamiliar and entirely unexpected when this strange makeshift crew of survivors came together. Many friends, in fact, but her and Gale understood one another as if they'd been close since childhood or as if they'd wriggled their way into each other's brainstem - tadpole notwithstanding. As such, it was all too obvious to read the minute shifts in his body language, from straightened posture and quickened breath to the pause of once riveted eyes no longer scanning a page.

It was equally obvious to note the cause of such shifts each and every time. Like now, for instance, as Benny's eldest brother came sauntering back into camp with leathers and skin and hair alike all splashed in the latest bloodshed of his adventures. "Ava! Come see Gale's new spell!" she called to him with all the surefire confidence and giddiness of someone fibbing through their teeth. No, Gale hadn't shown her any new spells at his disposal this evening, but surely he was quickwitted enough to think of something now that she'd drawn Ava's attention from the lingering vampire so eager to sink teeth into her big brother's throat.

But still, Benny was a charming young girl, a friendly companion with similar interests, a potential protege with whom he could share knowledge, and clever wit that he had desperately needed to keep his sanity in these trying times. And while he usually appreciated her attempts to win Avarice's attention and convince him that Gale was worthy of admiration, she had put him in a bit of a bind with this situation he'd now found himself in.

He hadn't actually learnt any new spells recently, more focused on researching all he could on the Absolute cult, but he had plenty of magic that Avarice hadn't seen yet, all more dazzling and impressive than the last. "All my magic is impressive, don't you know?" he asked, somewhat joking but a bit too much smugness be entirely teasing. And he was ready to pull out something new to Avarice - an ice storm or lightning bolt or fire ball - before Benny mentioned necromancy.

He didn't have any necromancy spells, though it had certainly been on his list to start expanding his repertoire in that direction. One never knew when new spells, even of the necromantic variety, could come in handy - and besides, Avarice had an affinity for necromancy, so would it truly be all that bad to learn some impressive, high level magic, perhaps take the opportunity to bond by teaching him? But, again, he'd dove headfirst into research with Benny and while they talked plenty of magic and he had some tomes in his tent just waiting to be studied, he hadn't actually learned any necromancy yet.

He knew a couple cantrips, but that was hardly noteworthy. "Yes, necromancy, of course." he floundered, speaking mostly to stall for time as he wracked his brain for any spell that might be suitably impressive - and when that failed, any necromancy spell at all, which was a mistake, because before he could think it through, he was moving in a familiar pattern, incanting words he'd heard a hundred times now, "Dum Vita Est, Spes Est." Since Avarice performed false life every single day.

Gale let his eyes flick shut, knowing just how unimpressive one of the most basic of necromancy spells was, before looking on the bright side - he had successfully performed the spell, could feel the extra vitality, so at least he hadn't made a complete fool of himself, just most of one. "False life." he said, unnecessarily, opening his eyes and first shooting Benny a look, that said they would be speaking once Avarice was away, since it was her fault that he had floundered for a spell thanks to her specificity.