TummyisBae

Astarion nestled himself into Gale’s soft chest as much as he could, nuzzling him with his cheek. “I prepared breakfast for you.”

“Wonderful,” Gale replied, burying his face in Astarion’s hair.

The vampire smiled, knowing that Gale would not be getting up for at least a little while longer, holding Astarion close while he rubbed and stroked every softened part of his lover.

This was a common routine when classes were not in at Blackstaff. Quiet, lazy mornings in bed, feeding each other once they both bothered to help roll each other out.

But something was feeling different as of late to Astarion. Not in a bad way, or in any kind of way that would make a young lover fear for their relationship. But it felt as if something in Gale’s very being was changing, and Astarion couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

The closest he could get to defining it was the way Gale smelled. But even that seemed strangely insufficient to describe it–the smell of his musky cologne was the same he always used, and the smell of the tomes from his library and the academy were unmistakable.

Buried in Gale’s chest however, Astarion could smell something. Something new.

It would plague him all throughout the morning and afternoon, but he was determined to try and figure out just what it was. He watched Gale from the divan in the study as he flipped through tomes and murmured incantations. Tara sat next to Astarion, also watching Gale intently.

Gale still moved like usual, if not a little slower due to his quickly-accumulated weight around his middle, but that was to be expected.

“It’s a damned shame I can’t hear your perspective on what I’m sensing,” Astarion sighed, glancing at Tara. She glanced back, before meowing in what Astarion thought sounded like commiseration.

“Am I simply imagining things? One too many sweets before bedtime?” Astarion continued at Tara, unsure of what else to do. He began counting on his fingers. “His magical skill hasn’t waned, he still cooks regularly, even sends letters to Halsin and Wyll and Karlach every month–he’s been researching the blueprints they brought back for Karlach’s new heart.”

Tara meowed knowingly, flicking her tail at Astarion’s leg.

“Yes, I know you know all that. I’m just trying to,” Astarion huffed, waving his hand in a frustrated flourish. “Eliminate all doubt, or whatever it is that Gale says to his students.”

A low, long meow came from Tara this time before she settled her head down on her paws.

“Well, I don't want to worry him, either. This period is for him to rest before the next courses begin. To tell him that something is strange, but not in a bad way–I’m either overly concerned or not concerned enough.”

There was no response from Tara now, her body rising and falling with relaxed breathing. Astarion rolled his eyes and smirked, guessing that his prattle wore out her patience with him. He returned his full attention to Gale, thoughtfully tapping his chin.

Gale was thumbing through a tome, reclined in his chair with one hand absently rubbing his large belly.

Astarion restrained a pleased chuckle at the sight. It seemed Gale really was quite comfortable with his weight, as if it had always been a part of him. Then Astarion looked down at himself, his own ballooned weight sitting proudly on his body.

He gave his own belly a pat before letting his mind wander, having exhausted all his current directions.

When was the first time he noticed this indescribable change? It was when Gale realised that his old trousers no longer fit him. He could no longer pull them up over his waist, his belly protruding farther than before and his sides starting to spill over his hips.

There was a blush of embarrassment that crept over Gale’s cheeks that morning, but Astarion found himself almost supernaturally drawn to the sight. He lavished him with kisses and whispered praises, Gale turning pliable and needy under his touch. He simply assumed the smell was due to the breakfast they had just finished and the lovemaking shortly after.

But even now, a year later, the sensation remained–stronger than ever. And Gale was fatter than ever, bountiful body partly grown by Astarion’s dutiful spoiling and encouragement. Mostly by Gale realising he no longer needed to hide or restrain himself any longer.

Would it really be that simple? Astarion wondered, a hopeful realisation pulling up at the corners of his mouth. And would it mean what he thought it might?

Astarion slowly rose from the divan, taking in a deep breath and feeling his belly stretch out against his shirt. He walked over to Gale, who gave Astarion a warm smile as he ran his fingers through his brown hair.

“What were you discussing with Tara? You know, she quite enjoys her conversations with you,” Gale said with a grin, setting the tome he was studying further up on his table.

“Oh, we were discussing…you,” Astarion replied, stroking Gale’s head.

Gale looked at Astarion with humorous trepidation, leaning into his touch.

“Good things, I hope.”

Astarion leaned in close, pressing a kiss on the top of Gale’s head and taking in a deep breath and recognising the new smell. He smiled. “Potentially…very good things.”

Gale looked up at him, waiting for Astarion to continue. But he moved his hand from his belly to slide over Astarion’s wide hip and gave him a gentle squeeze.

“I am going to make a request of you, and I am going to warn you that it will sound absolutely deranged,” Astarion continued with a hesitant grunt. Gale’s big brown stare fell somewhere between intrigued and concerned.

“But may I…drink your blood?”

“...What?” Gale asked, sounding as if he could not trust his own ears. He waited for a moment, but continued when Astarion didn’t add anything further. “Don’t I…taste horrifying awful? You recall that I poisoned you, right?”

“Yes, I know, but for some time now you’ve been feeling–smelling different. I believe,” Astarion said quickly, almost running completely over his words with thinly-veiled excitement, “your blood may have been changing.”

Gale looked at Astarion with confusion, then his brow furrowed thoughtfully. He pulled his hand from Astarion’s hip and began stroking his beard. His eyes darted around the room before slowly traveling back up to Astarion.

“The orb has been dormant since the Netherbrain fell, and you’ve…” Astarion placed a hand on Gale’s belly. “Grown. A lot, if I might be so bold.”

While Gale’s expression didn’t change, and his gaze was laser-focused on the space ahead of him, his hand landed on Astarion’s and squeezed it against his stomach.

“Could it really be possible?” Gale asked breathlessly, eagerly. “That the effects of the orb are really being purged?”

Astarion moved to stand in front of Gale, his mouth now starting to water. “There’s simply one way to find out.”

“Only a quick taste at first, all right? If I’m still poison, the less you get, the better,” Gale warned, looking up at Astarion.

The vampire’s pulse began to race, the thought of finally being able to taste Gale and not fall ill made him giddy. Even if it was the slightest bit sweeter, he would consider that a victory. He’d tasted Gale’s skin and his lips–his selfishness and greediness for the wizard regularly hissed to him about how it was unfair that his blood would be out of his reach.

Gale seemed nervous as well, pulling his hair away and revealing his soft, bare neck to Astarion.

Astarion nearly found himself lunging at Gale, but instead firmly grasped Gale’s shoulders and took a deep breath. He leaned in, his belly quickly pressing against Gale’s before his lips reached his neck.

A brief moment of hesitation flashed across Astarion’s mind, but his vampire instincts still opened his mouth and he sunk his fangs into Gale’s flesh.

Gale let out a breath, and Astarion carefully drank.

The memory of the sour, bitter bile he once tasted long ago was quickly replaced by something Astarion could only initially describe as elixir.

He drank even more deeply, the taste of his blood warm, sweet, and ending on a familiar bitter flavor–but it only served to complement the symphony of flavors he never thought Gale would have been able to provide.

“Star,” Gale moaned, gripping Astarion’s side.

Astarion gasped, pulling away from Gale and panting. He looked at him in awe, his hands still on Gale’s shoulders.

“Gods, you’re absolutely…delicious,” Astarion said, almost in a whine. His tongue already ached for more.

“I’m…I am?” Gale whispered, his cheeks flushing. His eyes were wide, caught somewhere between shock and desire.

“More delicious than anything I think I’ve ever tasted,” Astarion panted, leaning in and lapping at the wounds on Gale’s neck.

“Then don’t stop.” Gale squeezed Astarion’s side, trying to pull him even closer. “Eat your fill.”

Astarion needed no further encouragement, easily sliding his fangs back into Gale’s neck and hungrily drinking. He could feel his stomach filling, and the fact it was Gale filling him made his body burn and ache with desire.

He felt himself lowering futher onto Gale, trying his best to straddle him even with their bellies in the way. Gale groaned into his ear, dragging his fingers down the rolls of Astarion’s back.

Astarion moaned back in response, still in awe of the deep, complex taste of Gale’s blood. If it was somehow still poison, Astarion didn’t care.

“Astarion…” Gale slurred, his hand falling weakly from Astarion’s side. “I am…fading…”

The vampire returned to himself, quickly pulling away from Gale. He frantically looked him over, the color drained from his face but a shockingly pleased smile was on the wizard’s face.

“Hells, I’m so sorry, Gale, I couldn’t…how can you taste so good now?” Astarion gasped, cradling Gale’s face in his hands.

“Worry not, my Star,” Gale panted, his voice lilting. “I was tempted to let you drink me dry…but I won’t be dying tonight. But nevermind me…how do you feel?”

Astarion shook his head at Gale’s disregard for his own health, but he couldn’t help but smile back at him. He realised just how warm and heavy Gale’s blood felt in his stomach and he tenderly placed a hand on his own belly. He wanted more, naturally, but not tonight.

The fact that he could drink from Gale at all was boon enough.

“Gale…you blasted wizard, you somehow still had some trick up your sleeve,” he laughed quietly before pressing gentle kisses across Gale’s face.

Gale chuckled, dazedly trailing a finger down Astarion’s neck and chest. “Surely…hand-feeding me merits some credit for you too.”

“Oh, that’s what you need–” Astarion gasped, gently caressing Gale’s face before quickly waddling to the pantry. He grabbed bread and dried meat, then pressed a carafe of water to cradle in his other wide arm. He then passed by Gale’s supply of potions on the way back to the study, grabbing a few healing potions of varying strength.

He hurriedly returned to Gale, who he found sleepily waving him over.

“Perhaps…it’s the same concept as those rare-breed cattle?” Gale babbled. “Fed only…the finest foods to sweeten their flesh…”

Astarion could only laugh in disbelief, decidedly not wanting to think of his beloved Gale as livestock.

“Gale, please don’t ever refer to yourself as cattle again. You are much smarter than that,” Astarion snorted, handing Gale the loaf of bread he brought. He clumsily took it, observing it with strange focus.

“But you don’t deny that I am…as well-fed as they are?”

“Gods, Gale, just rest. Don’t sour the taste of your blood with ridiculous prattle.”

Gale tore a hunk of the loaf with his teeth and began chewing. “I must…find a way to increase my blood supply…”

Astarion sighed, trying to restrain his excitement at the mere thought of getting to gorge further on Gale’s blood.

“What you need right now is to rest, and drink the rest of these,” he gently scolded, aiming the tone more at himself than at Gale, and then handed him a healing potion. He quickly uncorked it and watched as Gale drank it down.

Color began to return to his face and Astarion let out a low sigh of relief. He would likely go out tonight and secure several Superior Potions of Healing while Gale slept.

“Come, let’s get you into bed. I hope that I didn’t interrupt your studying with this sudden…experiment,” Astarion said, trailing off rather embarrassedly.

“Quite the opposite, my love,” Gale said with a grin. He gestured for another potion, and Astarion handed a larger one to him. This time, Gale uncorked the potion himself and he emptied the bottle in only a few gulps. “The study will be there for me tomorrow. This discovery was of the utmost importance.”

Astarion felt his full stomach somersault at Gale’s husky tone, and he wanted to take his soft face and body in his hands, kissing and adoring him for the rest of the evening.

“It seems I’ve also discovered an even more important reason in keeping you well-fed now.”

“Ah-ha, so you do admit that I am like those fancifully-fed livestock!” Gale crowed, playfully pointing a finger at Astarion.

Astarion felt his cheeks flush, no doubt a result of how much blood he managed to drink from Gale. He stammered, “I refuse to call you livestock!”

“Oh, you’ll come around, Star,” Gale teased, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his stomach. “I won’t mind it, if it’s you.”

“Gods, come on,” Astarion groaned, trying not to be tantalised by the way he somehow confidently presented himself in this moment. “Come get into bed before I actually do decide to drain you completely.”                   

The desire wasn’t actually too far from Astarion’s mind. Despite his bantering and caring for Gale, the taste of his blood was still fresh on his tongue and his mind. The fact that it was possible at all was still unbelievable.

It was more poetic than he would have openly admitted, but it was clear that being loved and cared for changed the both of them in ways Astarion never would have expected a few years ago.

He helped Gale to his feet, walking with him back to their room. Astarion eased Gale into bed, tenderly kissing his forehead.

“Rest. I’ll come to check on you in a bit. I’ll clean up your study.”

Gale nodded, setting Astarion’s slight worry to rest. With that, the vampire turned to leave the room–tenderly and possessively rubbing his stomach, finally full of the man he loved.

***

Gale’s rest was likely not as restful as he assumed Astarion would have preferred.

The entire sequence of events replayed over and over in Gale’s head, but he took great care to linger on the way Astarion’s belly actually swelled against his as he drank his blood.

The experience was novel, remarkable, and arousing. He pondered the fact that Astarion was glutting himself on Gale’s blood, and then lamented that he couldn’t provide more for him. Another reason to wish he had become a Cleric instead of a Wizard.

Regardless, Gale felt their lives were different now. The new opportunity to properly feed Astarion and satisfy his hunger by his own power was in Gale’s hands.

How awfully greedy and reckless of you, he could hear an unknown voice chiding him. Was it his mother, warning him not to overextend–or was it Astarion’s voice, teasing him and beckoning him to draw closer?

Gale simply took a deep breath and then exhaled, looking at one of the potions Astarion left on the side table. He couldn’t push the sensation of Astarion’s bloating stomach against him out of his mind, the sound of his quiet moans in his ear as he drank.

His heart started pounding again as he longed to feel Astarion against him again, but it seemed to sap what energy he had restored with the healing potions he had consumed. He reached for a potion, unsure of what else to do with his thoughts besides drinking them away. It was no Arabellan Dry, but it would have to do.

This potion was significantly stronger than the others, Gale recognising that it was one of the superior potions he kept for emergencies. He winced at the slightly bitter taste, remembering now that it was rare for him to consume one outside of the urgency of battle. But he also felt his strength returning with every swallow.

A hopeful idea crept into his mind.

If Gale was able to sufficiently restore himself with healing potions, would Astarion be able to fill himself even further with his blood?

Gale took a deep breath, trying to settle the excitement that suddenly grew in his chest at the idea.

The longing to feel Astarion pressed against him, drinking from him, was attempting to consume his every thought. He pressed his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes and breathing deep.

He would ask Astarion. He would allow himself that much, at least. It was not as if it would never happen again. They were inseparable and they had their lives together ahead of them. Desperate nights of passion would surely be a common occurrence in the days to come.

Gale managed to continue his deep breathing, slowly calming his thoughts as he finished the potion. He rotated the emptied bottle in his hand, only briefly stirred by the thought of Astarion’s tongue hungrily licking blood from his neck. He shook his head, a shiver running down his spine and making his stomach tremble.

It wasn’t long before Astarion returned to the bedroom, and Gale looked up at him with eagerness. He glanced at his belly, still rather distended from his sudden meal of Gale’s blood, then back up at his face.

“The study is tidied. How are you feeling?” Astarion asked softly, waddling closer to him.

Gale smiled, holding up the empty bottle in his hand. “Nothing a few healing potions couldn’t fix.”

“You don’t feel dizzy or anything like that?”

“Thanks to your care, not in the slightest.”

Not in the bloodless way, at least, Gale thought mischievously, hoping his face wasn’t telling his true feelings.

Astarion smiled, sitting close to Gale on the bed. “I still can’t believe that your blood isn’t affected by the orb anymore.”

The genuine excitement in Astarion’s voice warmed Gale’s heart, drawing his thoughts away from the strictly carnal and to the sheer miracle that the effects of having the Karsite Weave within him were virtually gone.

“There’s surely much to be learned from this–much to research,” Gale mused, trying to communicate a hint of desire in his grin. It wasn’t untrue but this would likely be research Gale was more than happy to undertake.

It seemed his meaning was not lost on Astarion, who responded with a low, purring laugh. He did give Gale a warning glance, however.

Understandable, given that Gale had nearly lost every drop of blood in his body. But the aching desire to feel Astarion full against him–full of him, overrode his more rational thoughts.

“I want you to have more of me,” Gale plainly said, sitting up straighter in bed and extending his hand to Astarion.

“Gale, I would love nothing more, but…”

“I’ve replenished enough of my strength with the healing potions, I don’t feel ill or lacking in strength,” Gale quickly countered.

Astarion was still unconvinced to some degree. Gale knew his vampiric lover wanted more, he knew he could handle more, but now with his own health and bodily safety as a part of the equation–things became tantalisingly complicated. A new dance for the two of them to navigate.

Gale smiled gently, tilting his head to the side. “Consider this our first experiment. We’ll go slowly and carefully. I’ve still got two more healing potions here, and I trust you.”

He watched as Astarion carefully, thoughtfully placed his hand on his bloating stomach and rubbed from top to bottom.

“Is…there still a Scroll of Revivify hidden in the bookcase in the study?” Astarion’s voice was quiet and serious.

“There is,” Gale nodded, presing his calf against Astarion’s hip. “Though if this is too much for you right now, I understand. I’ve just…longed for this for ages. I was resigned to it never happening.”

“So was I.” Astarion scooted a little closer to Gale, now tracing his fingers down the seam of Gale’s trousers.

“No time like the present,” Gale replied with a devious smile.

“Gods damn your eloquence,” Astarion scoffed, turning his head and making his white hair bob.

Gale laughed, his belly bobbing up and down. “If that’s what passes for eloquence, I can’t wait to see what I can do with proper preparation.”

“You tell me the moment you begin to feel light-headed.” Astarion warned, starting to slide himself further onto the bed. The vampire was unable to hide his eager smile, moving himself to start straddling Gale’s legs.

“Of course.” Gale stretched out his arms, ready to welcome Astarion’s softness on top of him.

Astarion began climbing toward Gale on all fours, his belly soon pressing against Gale’s as he reached his neck. Gale tossed the empty bottle in his hand to the floor with a clink, grabbing a full one from the side table.

Gale reclined back, looking deep into Astarion’s longing, hungry eyes.

He shivered as Astarion pressed his lips to Gale’s neck once again. Gale’s hand moved to rest on the side of Astarion’s belly, slowly fingering down to where it was tucked into his pants.

He felt Astarion’s breath tickle his neck in an airy laugh before he inhaled and bit down onto Gale’s neck.

The soothing numbness crept through Gale’s body once again and Astarion’s pleased moan rang in his ear as he swallowed.

Astarion drank more slowly this time, though the slowness seemed to magnify the sensation. And once again, Gale could feel Astarion’s stomach swelling against his. He swiftly pulled the shirt up from Astarion’s waistband, his soft belly bulging outward as it was released from the shirt.

There was a thankful moan that rumbled in Astarion’s chest and he lowered himself a little more onto Gale’s body.

Gale could feel every swallow expand Astarion’s stomach. He rolled his hips as best as he could against Astarion’s belly, feeling him press further into him in response.

A whining moan escaped Astarion’s throat this time after a particularly slow swallow, and Gale hummed an encouraging noise into his ear.

“Keep going,” Gale whispered, running his hand against Astarion’s tightening belly. “I’m not lightheaded yet.”

Astarion could only respond with another moan, sucking deeply and drawing a surprised whine from Gale.

They maintained this position for a little while longer, Astarion’s pace slowing and Gale encouragingly rubbing the side of his increasingly-swollen stomach. A slight jostling made his belly slosh and Gale groaned happily at the sound.

“You’re so full…so full of me, Star,” he murmured dizzily. The way his voice nearly slurred past his lips made him realise how drained he was becoming.

Gale uncorked the healing potion in his hand with more dexterity than he expected and quickly began drinking. The pleasant fog of bloodloss was fading, and Astarion responded with a surprised noise and a loud swallow.

“I know you’re not quite done yet.” Gale said as he finished the potion and kept his hand on Astarion’s stomach. He could feel the pressure building, still filling Astarion. “We have so much time to make up for…”

Astarion moaned, pulling his fangs from Gale’s neck and panting. He pulled far enough back to look into Gale’s eyes, half-lidded with drunken pleasure.

“Hells, shit, Gale…you’re so delicious,” the vampire whined, an airy burp interrupting him. “I’m so full…but I need more of you still…”

“Whatever you need, my love,” Gale said sweetly, dropping the now-empty bottle and reaching up to caress Astarion’s round face. He used his thumb to wipe a trickle of blood from his chin and delicately wiped it into Astarion’s mouth.

His tongue swirled around Gale’s thumb before he quickly went back into his neck, lapping at the remains. Gale sighed and shivered at the sensation.

Astarion bit down once again, and Gale slowly began rubbing his belly–tight and sloshing with every involuntary movement or adjustment.

A whine now began to proceed every swallow, gravity pulling Astarion’s bloated body further down onto Gale’s. It was unlike anything Gale had ever felt before, the warmth of his own blood filling another creature this way. Resting on his own fattened body, the pleasure and satisfaction of knowing Astarion was so utterly filled with him–three times over, as a matter of fact.

After a few moments longer, Astarion groaned and released Gale’s neck.

“Gods, I, urgh,” Astarion let out a moaning burp. “I can’t drink…anymore.”

Gale let out a shaky breath, utterly aroused by the laboured sounds of Astarion’s breathing. He was content if Astarion was, but before he could say anything, the vampire came back down on his neck and licked slowly before drinking again.

Gale whined at the sudden sensation, reaching for Astarion’s belly once again.

“You’re so…heavy, so warm…”

With those words, Astarion released Gale and moaned loudly, rolling his hips and making his belly slosh loudly. Gale reciprocated with with own loud moan, sliding both of his hands over Astarion’s silky, tight stomach.

Astarion clumsily rolled over, his belly sloshing noisily. He managed to face Gale, his stomach tinted red and wobbling as he helplessly reached for his trousers.

Gale let out a shuddering breath at the sight of Astarion beached and bloated with his own blood. It had been common to see anytime he returned from gorging on cattle, but there was something deeply arousing knowing that it was Gale himself who caused it this time.

Gale attempted to sit up, but wobbled due to the amount of blood Astarion had taken after the second potion. It wasn’t enough to be dangerous, but enough to leave Gale happily woozy.

“Gods, look at you, Astarion…” he drawled, reaching out and gently pressing Astarion’s massive gut. It hardly gave under his touch at this angle.

“Indeed,” Astarion slurred, his face nearly not visible from behind his stuffed belly and breasts. “Look at what you’ve,” he paused, burping again, “done to me.”

He gave up on reaching his trousers and began rubbing his own corpulent stomach, whines and shallow breathing following every stroke of his palms.

“Are you all right, love?” Gale asked, now feeling a twinge of guilt that he pushed Astarion so far.

“All right…?” Astarion warbled, before burping again. “Darling, I’ve, urgh, felt the best I have in…centuries.”

Gale let out a relieved laugh, scooting closer to Astarion. He wrapped himself around his quivering belly, tenderly caressing it.

“You look the most magnificent I’ve ever seen you, if I may be so bold.”

“You may,” Astarion hiccuped.

“I consider our experiment to be a success,” Gale added, kissing the top of Astarion’s belly.

“How is it that you taste so good after tasting…” Astarion huffed, trying to adjust himself enough to properly look at Gale. Gale did his best not to be distracted by the impressive, wobbling mass that was his lover. “Like absolute shit?”

Gale let out a loud laugh at the way Astarion punctuated the sentence with a burp.

“I was serious about my idea that being well-fed had an effect on me.”

“Oh, I don't doubt it…” Astarion moaned. “But I–excuse me,” he put a hand up, a hiccup shaking his body. “I don't think I can describe just how…utterly delicious you are. Far and, urp, away, the best blood I have ever had.”

“Another thing to add to my excellent pedigree,” Gale replied distractedly, almost entirely absorbed by the sight and feel of Astarion. Deliciously soft in some places, his fat body crowned by the enormous, drum-tight belly that seemed to take up most of his form at the moment.

“You know…I’ll need to properly thank you for this,” Astarion paused, interrupted by yet another loud burp, “when I can properly move again.”

Gale caressed Astarion’s stomach, then pressed his own belly, currently puny in comparison to Astarion’s, against it. He could feel the way the blood sloshed inside Astarion and then felt the gurgling when it stopped moving.

“I can imagine a few ways you can thank me,” he murmured, closing his eyes and trying to memorise the feeling of being pressed up against Astarion’s impressive bloat.

“So can I,” Astarion managed to purr before a quick hiccup shook him up-and-down. He groaned, pressing a hand to his stomach.

Despite the hiccup, Gale recognised the mischievous tone of Astarion’s voice and he did his best to restrain an excited shudder. He could easily envision their places swapped very soon, and he greedily kissed Astarion’s belly in response.

“I may even,” Astarion grunted. “Want to continue this experiment and see how all of this,” he shook his belly, making it slosh and making him moan in pleasure. “Might affect my sexual prowess.”

“Gods, Astarion,” Gale hissed, sitting up and feeling his cheeks flush hot. Astarion looked back at him, nearly pinned by his own weight, but a triumphant–no, arrogant–grin flashed back at Gale. Astarion’s red eyes sparkled hungrily still, somehow.

“Come, you delicious little wizard,” Astarion crooned, waving Gale closer.

Gale arched his eyebrow at the “little” comment, but knew he was in no position to argue–not with the enormous, miraculous accomplishment that sat between them, warm and taut against Gale.

He had a feeling it wouldn't be long before he had his chance to be the same.