𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢 ✧ ⁺ ⁺

Gale had seemed a little down as of late, and since that was weighing heavily on Eve's heart, she decided to do something special for him. Not that she wouldn't have done something nice for him regardless, but she especially wanted to make him feel as SPECIAL as she thought he was. Perhaps that would make him feel a little more important and if not, at least he might feel loved.

He had spent part of the evening making everyone dinner, and she thought that it was high time that he got a grand gesture. So, she sent him a magical note, wishing she could make a simulacron, but this was just as well. Having a note flutter in as a magical BUTTERFLY was more 'her' she supposed, and she kind of wished she could see the look on Gale's face when he got it. A late night meeting in the moonlight? That was right up Gale's alley, wasn't it?

Even better, they had finally made it to the city, so a moonlit rooftop date felt like the right choice to show him what he meant to her. Given how much he seemed to miss Waterdeep, she figured Gale probably felt so much more at HOME in the city. So, when he found her, she had pointed out the telescope she'd gotten for the occasion--though she hadn't said quite HOW she had gotten it, and after presenting him with a flower crown and enjoying some wine and a little stargazing, eventually they'd ended up with his head in her lap as he read to her from one of the books she'd gotten for him, her fingers carding through his hair.

The memory of the last time, if there ever was one, Gale had been spoiled with such a grand romantic gesture eluded him. And yet, as a true lover of all things romantic, he could not have possibly dreamed up a more perfect scenario. The moon illuminates the rooftop where they sit, casting a soft glow upon their faces and highlighting the twinkling stars above. The taste of rich, velvety wine lingers on his tongue, adding to the already enchanting atmosphere. Left behind the chaos of the city and now lost in their own little paradise, just the two of them under the vast expanse of the night sky.

As the wizard stood in the midst of this, he could not help but realize what he had been missing for so long… becoming involved with a deity. The simple pleasures, instead devoid of romance and genuine affection, which make one so perfectly human. The warmth of gentle touch, laughter shared over a meal, the comfort of an embrace, all things his divine relationship lacked.

“Have I ever told you how much I love reading?” Gale playfully responds, his chocolate brown eyes fluttering closed as she leans in to press a soft kiss against his forehead. Lips feel warm against his skin, a lingering sensation of tenderness and affection. “This is… very kind of you, my love.” He is taken aback by her words, unsure of how to accept them. She insists on spoiling him, but Gale struggles with feeling worthy of such treatment. "Thank you, truly."

"I'm fairly certain it won't come to you as quantum science the fact that I'm not particularly the sentimental kind." Or so Astarion would like to believe at least.

Two hundred years of supressing his emotions by wearing a mask meant it was second nature to put another one on. The thing about masks, though, was that the paint would sometimes chip and it wasn't always easy to hide that knot at the back of the head which held them in place.

Astarion's mask was no different.

Beneath his mock shell of apathy there was something softer- like the harsh exterior was meant to shelter some kind of fragility in similar manner thorns would do to a rosebud.

"I appreciate the sentiment though. Even if I'm objectively unable to echo it with the enthusiasm that concern of this calibre likely deserves."

Gale's little quip, however, did well to bring half a smile to the vampire's face.

And it was only then that Astarion realised just how long he'd spent without so much as a smirk.

"I suppose there's a lesson to be learned from all of this." The vampire's gaze fell to the loot in his hands, a silver necklace encrusted rubies bright enough to match the blood red sky of his eyes- "Perhaps just how ill advised it is to fall for dangerous men." -the very pair of which flickered up to zero in on Gale's stare. His every word punctuated by a drawl characteristic of warnings.

I'm a dangerous man.

“I am afraid there are dangerous men everywhere, Astarion.” Gale counters with a sharp exhale, his breath forming a small cloud in the dusty room. “Or men far over their head. Perhaps, your cautionary tales would be better suited elsewhere, my friend.”

Fingers instinctively trace the intricate orb-shaped marking on his chest.

The wizard tears his chestnut gaze away from Astarion's piercing stare and scans the unfamiliar surroundings. Above them, three orbs of magical light cast a soft glow throughout the dark room, providing Gale with enough visibility to make out his surroundings. He is merely a human, after all.

Gale's lips move in a quick, practiced rhythm as he mutters arcane words beneath his breath. A faint glow emanates from his fingertips, pulsing with power as he casts a spell to detect any magic in the area. A quite handy addition to exploring. "There, I should be able to determine any objects of magical value, should we come across such things."

Objects for them to keep, rather than Gale to consume... but at what cost?

Astarion's mouth sharpened itself into a grin of vicious satisfaction when his husband bit back, casting demands his way with the same ease he did his spells. Tension hung in the air between them like it was a hemp rope strained to its unravelling.

The warmth of the living against an undead's ghastly chill.

"That's one high request from someone whose excitement I can literally smell."

Gale's resolve was steel across his features, even the flames of Astarion's allure couldn't hope to bend it. And while under any other circumstances he would have resorted to breaking, his husband had already suffered enough for one night.

"I love you." Astarion yielded. Breath slowed and mouth crowded with intent.

A tender surrender with lips pressed to the wizard's knuckles and the crimson in his eyes pinning chestnut under the bite of impounded charm. Two hundred years' worth of seduction coalesced into a single stare.

"May I...?" Normally, the vampire would be helping himself to Gale's trousers between a suffocating string of kisses and nibbles that were bound to steal the breath away in light-headed dizziness. A love-drunk moment his every touch lent itself to. Tonight, however, like paradox or twist of fate, Astarion was letting Gale have a taste of what being in a position of dominance felt like.

“And I love you,” the wizard's lips curl into a smug smile, brown eyes gleaming with satisfaction as Astarion inches closer to him. A tense game of cat and mouse, each one trying to gain the upper hand in their dangerous dance. Gale basking in the thrill of getting what he wanted though he would quickly and happily surrender this battle for dominance. “You may, yes… how polite of you to ask, my dear.”

He swore he could practically hear the elf rolling his eyes.

With a determined stride, Gale closes the distance between them once more. His hand reaches out and gently cups his husband's face, tugging him into a heated kiss. As lips meet, cold fingers trail down his stomach and come to rest at the waistband of his pants, teasing and tempting further.

And oh, how Gale wants terribly. The passing of many months had only intensified his yearning for the touch of this man he loved so dearly, missing him horribly. Despite the previous danger which led him to Astarion's bed this evening, he could not deny the pleasure and satisfaction Gale currently felt.

A quite satisfactory result, given the circumstances.

He understood how that felt, his own life had been laid out in front of him and he'd not stood a chance. Even now he found himself trapped in a vicious cycle, it felt as if he had no way out - this was the closest he'd come to that. It gave him a little hope, but he couldn't pretend to believe he knew what was going on inside the wizard's head, or if it were the same for him.

" I'm sure it is not too late to go after what you want you know - " It was near impossible to believe when he told himself the same thing, but it was true - once this was all over, if this ended the way it should. "- what did you want? for yourself? " Aksel directed his gaze from the fire to Gale, brow raised and expression curious. " Come on, tell me. I'll keep it between you and me. My lips are sealed. "

Gale's  lips  curve  upwards,  a  small  smile  tugging  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  He  could  not  help  the  fondness  he  feels  for  his  companion,  for  all  of  them.  What  did  his  future  hold  once  this  was  all  over?  Quite  the  question—one  which  plagued  Gale  for  quite  some  time.  Perhaps  he  once  had  resigned  himself  to  the  idea  that  there  may  not  be  a  life  after  this  damned  orb,  but  so  much  has  changed.

Even from his spot Astarion could smell it, the spill of adrenaline into Gale's blood as a prelude to desire. A steamy lick of flames that syphoned in his gullet and spiralled down to his loins, where a hunger unlike the vampire's own would soon consume his favourite mage.

And all he needed was a little push.

Waning candlelight shaved Astarion's profile into new geometries with every shift.

"Maybe." Words kept close to skin lowered to a purr, scattering cold where they settled. His fingers drew shapes over the wizard's unshaven chest, pinched around a nipple. Tight with provocation... tightening as he spoke. "Can you even handle sport after a gallon of your blood has all but been drained, Professor Dekarios? Is there even enough blood left in you to hoist those pretty little colours of yours high?"

A quick gander south of the wizard and a smile.

Spaded and malicious.

With that pebbled nipple now left to its searing aches after being taxed to its limit, Astarion's hand took another turn. His breath crowded and a hummed chuckle. Palm flattened itself to Gale's abdomen, digging fingers past the sash of his robe and the waistband of his underpants alike.

"Oh, you can keep your book, my love..." Combing fingers through Gale's hair, the pale elf jerked his head back, neck strained over his shoulder. Whispered poison fell from his mouth with the same erotic cadence he spoke the man's name.

It was lyrical.

"I promise I won't be long."

Gale's eyebrows shoot up in vexed amusement, keen gaze shifting from his beloved book to the bedside table. With careful intention, he sets it down, spine facing outward as if a precious artifact. Though he deeply cherishes his reading time, even this wise wizard knows when his attention is requested elsewhere.

A certain vampire demands his focus.

“I am quite capable of plenty… sport,” he speaks in a low, seductive voice, mirroring the same alluring tone that Astarion so often uses on him. "I want you entirely." Gale firmly grasps his lover's wrist, the one slowly creeping towards the edge of his waistband, and pulls him forward to meet his eyes. Piercing red to warm brown.

And a shiver runs down Gale's spine as he takes in every detail of his partner's features up close—the curve of his lips or soft lines upon his face that he would never dare mention to his vain lover. A hint of tension lingers between them, unspoken conflict that threatens to spoil their already brief time together. Astarion's disappointment and anger simmer just under the surface, but Gale refuses to let it taint their precious moments.

He holds Astarion's gaze, unwavering in intensity, "Say you love me first."

✦ ⊹₊​ ✧₊⁺✶​| Gale Dekarios |✶​✧₊⁺ ₊ ⊹ ✦

don't mind me, just expressing my love for Gale with this little aesthetic drawing set :>

I spent like 4 days on this help

​₊⁺ ₊ ⊹ ₊⁺ ₊

A laugh bubbles out of her, making her smile as she kept his body close, lips chasing his for just a moment with a nod. He's ENCHANTING, and if he asked her for a million kisses she'd see fit to take each second to map each one out against his lips and then some. "Yes, well, it's more I can't resist teasing you. Affectionately of course," she promises as her fingers thread through his hair.

With a wide smile, Gale responds to her statement with a playful tone. "Ah, a woman after my own heart," the wizard places a hand over his beating heart and exaggerates a quite dramatic gesture, as if feigning being overwhelmed. The twinkle in his brown eye shows how much he appreciates her understanding and acceptance of his interests, however ridiculous they may be. It means more to him than she could possibly know. Instead of dismissing or scoffing at the things he loves, she embraces them wholeheartedly.

Gale's  piercing  gaze  fixates  on  her,  brown  eyes  conveying  a  range  of  emotions—disbelief,  confusion,  and  most  prominently,  affection.  Could  he  ever  hate  her?  The  thought  alone  seems  quite  impossible,  a  concept  that  could  never  even  cross  his  mind.  "By  the  gods,  of  course  not."  Slowly,  the  wizard's  hardened  features  soften  and  he  reaches  for  Morgana's  hand,  giving  it  a  reassuring  squeeze  that  speaks  volumes  more  than  tangible  words  ever  could.  "I  could  never  hate  you."