softly wondering

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.

Astarion discovered himself to be ravenous when Gale’s personal cooking was laid in front of him. While blood would always be his preferred meal, there was something irresistible about eating what was made by loving hands–hands that loved him.

And he found Gale to be no slouch when it came to second, and sometimes third helpings. However, he noted that Gale was more eager to encourage Astarion to eat his fill and then some, regularly pushing delectable cuts of red meat and hearty, warm sauces toward him. Gale quickly proved himself a talented chef, presenting buttery, flaky pastries and breads, delectable pies and desserts, and even savory blood-based puddings and sausages that helped to slightly satisfy his bloodthirst.

It didn’t take long for Astarion’s waistline to expand under Gale’s constant care, the wizard even regularly securing livestock for Astarion to drink from. Even with Gale taking a job as a professor at Blackstaff Academy, Astarion found himself often spoiled and cared for by the man.

It was no more than a year and a half when Astarion realised just how big he had grown, Gale hungrily running his hands up his soft, wide thighs and burgeoning stomach as they lie in bed together. He remembered the night he glutted himself on blood to the point of near-immobility, his belly now naturally distended to the size he could recall from that night.

He shivered, pulling closer to Gale, feeling his pudgy arms pressing against his full chest. Gale’s warm hands explored Astarion’s wide belly, before trailing up to his rounded cheeks and drew him into a long, slow kiss. Gale’s beard tickled Astarion’s fattened neck and chin.

Gods, sunlight was nothing compared to this, he thought.

“Oh, Star, you’re so soft,” Gale murmured, pressing kisses into Astarion’s neck. Astarion grinned, taking Gale’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply again.

“Thanks to your efforts, you know,” Astarion hummed, trailing his finger down to the tattoo marking Gale’s now-dormant Netherese Orb on his soft chest.

“You took to being spoiled incredibly well. I think Tara is a bit jealous.”

Astarion chuckled, his stomach bobbing up and down. “The tressym and I have an understanding.”

Gale looked curiously at Astarion. “Oh? Since when?”

“That’s between me and her, you know,”

“Secrets kept from me? In my own home?” Gale said, playfully feigning offense.

Astarion arched an eyebrow, grinning and tracing his fingers down to Gale’s side. “The two creatures you love most in the world are entitled to their sacred camaraderie.”

“Well, you won’t find me complaining. You two didn’t exactly get along right away.”

“I can’t blame the poor creature, this has been her territory for so long–you invited an absolute rake, a rascal even, into her home!” Astarion teased, his fingers now trailing over Gale’s soft stomach. “You ought to be more wary of who you allow into your home, Professor Dekarios.”

“Ah, very well,” Gale laughed before pressing a kiss to Astarion’s shoulder, glancing up at him with a hungry look in his eyes. “You’ve made your point. Though…you’re not so threatening anymore, you know.”

A delighted shiver ran up Astarion’s spine, his soft body trembling. He gently squeezed what he could grab of Gale’s belly, then slid his fingers between his skin and the waist of his trousers.

“Hmm, more space there than I expected,” he hummed.

“Is that so?”

Astarion looked expectantly at Gale. “You ate quite a bit less than usual at dinner tonight.”

“...Is that so?” Gale murmured, a little less confidently now.

The vampire snapped a little more to attention. “Is it the orb?” He asked in a hushed tone.

Gale’s eyes widened and he let out a relieved sigh. “No, no, not at all. I appreciate your concern for me, though.”

Astarion looked back at Gale, awaiting his next response. Gale realised this and let out a small, nervous laugh.

“It’s, ah, rather the opposite I suppose…?” Gale continued, carefully arranging a curly lock of Astarion’s white hair. “I…hmm. I find myself…hungering again as of late. But not for traces of Weave.”

“For how long?” Astarion’s eyes wandered back to Gale’s chest, then up to his eyes again.

“A little while now, since the new classes started.”

“And the reasonable thing to do is deny yourself?” Astarion sighed, pressing his belly into Gale’s. He was a little shocked to find how much he actually outsized Gale now.

“No, of course not,” Gale stammered, though Astarion was unsure if it was due to him helplessly fishing for an excuse or if he realised how big Astarion was now too.

“I just…want to understand it before I give into it,” he continued, caressing Astarion’s belly.

“You’re just normally hungry, right? Well, hungrier.”

Gale started to blush, closing his eyes in mild embarrassment. “As far as I can tell, yes.”

“There's nothing wrong with that,” Astarion said in a low voice, taking Gale’s hand on his belly and slowly moving it up to his breast. Gale was quiet, gently squeezing Astarion’s soft chest, before burying his face in the pillowy crook of his neck.

“Do I deserve to let myself feel as such?” Gale murmured, almost a whisper.

A twinge of anger at whatever Mystra did to this poor, sweet man that still had some hold on him pulled at his heart and he stroked the back of Gale’s neck.

“I believe you do,” Astarion said matter-of-factly. “Mystra or whatever other Gods be damned.”

That drew a surprising laugh from Gale and he pulled away enough from Astarion to look in his eyes.

His eyes looked weary, yet relieved.

Astarion kissed the orb’s marking on Gale’s chest, then nuzzled his neck with his soft cheek. “You let me indulge my hunger. Allow me the honour of getting to spoil you as well.”

“You’ve spoiled me enough with your presence, Star,” Gale tried offering, but Astarion shook his head.

“Oh no, no, no,” Astarion tutted. “No more of that. Though if you must, imagine you’re still indulging me by letting me,” he paused, trailing his hand from the back of Gale’s neck to press his finger to his chin. “Indulge you.”

Much to Astarion’s surprise, Gale pressed his lips to Astarion’s and kissed him deeply, furiously. It took nothing for Astarion to reciprocate, gently cradling his face and wrapping one of his thick legs around Gale’s.

“Consider me,” Gale said breathlessly between kisses, “thoroughly convinced, then.”

***

Gale was a bit surprised that Astarion insisted on handling dinner the next evening. Well, not entirely surprised, remembering the hungry look in his eyes after Gale agreed to let himself be spoiled.

And so at Astarion’s command, Gale sat in a comfortable chair by the fireplace, Tara cozy in his lap. He watched Astarion quickly waddle back and forth between the pantry and the kitchen, gently stroking the tressym’s back. It was utterly charming, watching the once-lithe elf wear his now-impressive weight so effortlessly.

Food had been coming into the tower all afternoon, and Gale felt a little nervous at just how much Astarion had planned for him. Though the nervousness gave way to the hunger Gale had been trying to suppress for a few tendays at this point, and he tentatively let it seep into his body and mind.

It was different from the magical hunger he had once grappled with, very much settling in his stomach–but it was deep and primal. A longing ache to be filled, though the method was less difficult to secure. 

And far less likely to result in a city-leveling explosion, he thought, amused.

He let his thoughts wander to an evening before they descended below Baldur’s Gate to locate Orin and rescue Lae’zel, Shadowheart summoning a Heroes’ Feast for them–perhaps as a sort of last hurrah, a final celebration on the chance that they fell to Bhaal’s chosen. Hearty stews, honeyed ham, grilled meats, berry tarts, succulent wine–it almost made him wish he was a Cleric instead of a Wizard.

There was a near-fatal blow Gale took from the fearsome Slayer, and he remembered wishing that he would have grabbed at least one more serving of ham or another berry tart if he was to perish. But the next thing he knew, Astarion was pulling him to his feet, forbidding him to die.

Gale absently rubbed at the tattoo on his chest, returning to this present moment and caught sight of Astarion happily setting the table. A grin pulled at Gale’s lips as he admired the shapely way Astarion’s white shirt hugged his belly and sides. It was near identical to the white shirt he wore during their journey together, but he had quickly outgrown what few clothes he still owned once he moved into Gale’s tower with him.

He was surprised at how delighted Astarion was to still go out and find a new wardrobe to accommodate his growing figure. A lesser man would have been ashamed of it–Gale remembered bashfully leaving his tower to find a tailor to let out his own clothing after secluding himself for months.

Astarion had been there from the beginning with the worm, at their own personal lowest points. And now they were here, safe and sound, sharing a home and caring for each other.

This was looking to be a fascinating and illuminating adventure with Astarion at the helm.

“He’s surprisingly diligent, Mister Dekarios,” Tara purred, stretching out in Gale’s lap and disrupting his thoughts. “Especially given how much he naps.”

“Oh, if only you had traveled with us, Tara,” Gale said with a sigh, smoothing the fur on Tara’s head. “He was a man of many surprises. And he deserves as many naps as he wants.”

“You tell Tara that if she can keep her judgements to a minimum, I have a lovely fish in here with her name on it,” Astarion’s voice called from the kitchen, his white head quickly peeking from the corner before returning to work.

“Hear that, Tara? He’s thinking of you too,” Gale said, scratching between her ears.

“Hmm…clever elf,” Tara murmured proudly as she fluffed out her wings before hopping from Gale’s lap to likely observe Astarion a little more closely.

Gale smiled wide, leaning his elbow on the armrest to rest his chin on his knuckles while he waited for Astarion to finally summon him for dinner. Then like clockwork, Astarion emerged from the kitchen for the last time. He bowed theatrically, then motioned at the table.

“Gale Dekarios,” Astarion announced, a pleased and somewhat mischievous grin on his face. “Dinner is served.”

Then as if he were a whirlwind, Astarion got Gale to a seat, and piled his plate high with all sorts of delectable-looking fare. It was far more food than Gale would have gotten for himself, but he was determined to trust his beloved Star to care for him. It was a bit of an uncomfortable feeling to let himself be waited upon by someone he loved so dearly, but he pushed through it, picking up a fork and spearing a lovely-looking chunk of honeyed ham.

He glanced at Astarion’s place at the table next to his, his plate also piled high with food–perhaps even the same amount he put on Gale’s.

Astarion looked at him expectantly as he approached with a tantalising-looking bottle of Ithbank. Gale understood the look on his face and nodded, taking his first bite of ham and recognising that it would be a delightfully long evening.

***

Gale leaned back in his chair, his stomach feeling full up to his ribs. He was noticeably bloated and he rested a hand on the crest of his belly. By all accounts, he should have been incredibly uncomfortable, but perhaps the food was too delicious and his company was too lovely to dampen his mood. However, there was also still a fair amount of food left on Gale’s plate.

He was not unaware of the constant glances from Astarion while he ate, and now the curious way he watched as Gale tried to find a comfortable position for his full stomach.

He was also aware of the aching hunger that still seemed to sit deep in his torso. It was perplexing and intriguing, to know he was full but his body still somehow wanted more. Gale was unsure of how exactly to proceed, though he had a feeling he might find himself at Astarion’s direction for whatever came next.

“So, darling, are you still hungry?” Astarion asked, finishing the final slice of meat on his plate. Gale noted the way Astarion’s stomach was also now swelled out impressively against his shirt, rolling out into his lap.

“Well…my body feels like it couldn’t take another bite, but…” Gale started, patting the top of his stomach.

Astarion’s curiosity was fully piqued now, his red eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “But…?”

Gale chuckled, the breath in his lungs struggling to make room–fully at odds with the gnawing hunger that still lie deep within his belly.

“I don’t believe I have the fortitude to want to stop. It’s a bit alarming, if I can be honest. Reminds me a touch of when I feared the orb was destabilsing,” Gale mused, joining his other hand to the one resting on his belly. He saw the concern flash in Astarion’s eyes and he gave him a reassuring smile.

“Though it’s not quite like that. Just…a hunger that isn’t quite satisfied yet. The last time I felt this way, lives were in danger.” Gale sighed, pushing the memory from his mind before looking down at the swell of his stomach toward his lap. “The only thing in danger now is my waistband. And perhaps the furniture.”

“Do you want to take this slowly?” Astarion asked, leaning in toward Gale from his chair. “Do you think you…could eat more?”

Gale couldn’t help but smile at Astarion’s poorly-disguised fascination and excitement. He was aware of the way his hands kneaded and brushed against Gale’s own doughy stomach.

“I’m quite flattered that you want even more of me,” he chuckled.

“I want more of both of us,” Astarion said with a devilish grin.

Gale could feel his cheeks flush and warmth pool between his legs. “Oh, how greedy.”

“Well,” Astarion started, stammering a bit while his fingers waggled nervously. “I’d also like to see if we can’t satisfy this hunger of yours. How much would it take to get it to quiet down?”

Gale simply arched an eyebrow curiously at Astarion.

Astarion huffed before recollecting himself and folding his arms on top of his wide belly. “We should consider this an experiment, Gale. Like you do with your students” He paused, his shoulders relaxing and he glanced at the floor before looking back up at Gale. “And…I don’t want my wizard hungry, needing, or anything like that. Not anymore.”

Gale found himself frozen by Astarion’s gentle admission.

Despite all the time spent with Astarion and living a relatively normal life in Waterdeep again, the idea that anyone wanted Gale’s needs to be fully met was still alien and uncomfortable. Tara had been the only other being that seemed to want that for him, until now.

As Astarion’s cherubic face pleaded with him, the hunger deep within Gale’s body seemed a little less unpredictable. Less frightening.

Perhaps this was a result of his years of deprivation, of only seeking Mystra’s secrets, of half-considering fcrsaking the mortal world in pursuit of a greatness he thought he had been denied.

Now there was a beautiful creature in front of him, soft and cared for by his hand, who deeply understood what it meant to be enslaved to one’s hunger. And he wanted to make sure Gale was fulfilled.

How could he deny himself any longer? How could he deny his brilliant Star?

Gale simply laughed softly after a moment, nodding at Astarion. “Very well. How could I argue with that?”

Astarion’s expression brightened and he drew even closer to Gale, placing a hand on his knee.

“Then would you…let me feed you?”

Gale was now frozen for a different reason. For whatever reason, the idea of Astarion feeding him made his body burn and ache with desire. He resisted the urge to shuffle in his seat, arousal building in his core.

“Gods, I would love nothing more,” Gale finally choked out, his heart racing.

Astarion’s expression turned devious, his eyes gleaming hungrily. Gale had very obviously shown his hand, giving his lover all the power to tease and tantalise–but at this point, the wizard was glad to relinquish what little control he had left.

Before Gale knew it, there were more helpings of their dinner and several luscious tarts spread across the table.

Astarion wasted no time in pressing another forkful of pork to Gale’s mouth, and Gale gladly obeyed. It made little sense, but coming from Astarion’s hand seemed to make the taste of the pork even more rich and delectable.

Each forkful and spoonful began blending into each other, Gale feeling himself swell further and further. He fully gave himself to Astarion’s care, and soon the plate was empty. But the tarts still remained.

Gale groaned, his hand rubbing over his belly, tight against his shirt. The hunger still lingered, if not a little bit sated. His breathing was shallow and laboured, but he was pleased.

He closed his eyes, trying to savour the feeling of just how full and round he was. A glutting like this only possible in his dreams, he thought.

He gasped when he felt Astarion’s cool hands slip under his shirt and begin to pull it up, releasing its restraint of Gale’s belly. The relief he felt was instantaneous, his taut stomach rolling out further and starting to reach his lap.

“There we go,” he heard Astarion coo, then feeling his hands caressing his warm skin. “Ready for dessert?”

Gale shivered at the thought, his belly trying to wobble under Astarion’s hands. But the fullness was becoming undeniable.

“A…a moment,” Gale groaned again, helplessly rubbing the top of his stomach.

Gods, he was full. He was unsure that he had ever felt this way in his life, and he was shocked that any part of him still wanted more.

And like a soothing balm, Astarion began tenderly rubbing and massaging his belly.

A pleased moan escaped Gale’s throat and he let his legs spread open wide. His belly eagerly tried to occupy the space between his thighs.

“Oh, what a good pup…” Astarion crooned, massaging more firmly now.

Gale’s eyes flew open and he nearly leapt out of his chair at the little praise, his pants now tightening. The sudden movement also surprised Astarion, but he quickly understood the reaction and quickly resumed his ministrations.

Gale felt his face and ears flush obscenely hot and he tried his best to steady his breathing.

“How obvious this should have been, hm?” Astarion murmured, his hands now traveling underneath Gale’s swollen belly. “Gale Dekarios deserves his praise, doesn’t he?”

“Astarion…” Gale could only stammer, his body now becoming a collection of feelings he had been accustomed to smothering. Heat pooled everywhere and anywhere it could fill, and Gale gripped the armrests of his chair.

“Shh, shh, we’re not quite done yet, you know.”

Astarion slowly removed his hands from Gale’s belly, now reaching for one of the tarts on the table.

It was filled to the brim with beautifully ripe berries, the pastry glazed perfectly and crusted with large granules of sugar.

Then, as if in a trance, Gale opened his mouth to await the tart. Astarion looked a bit surprised for a moment before smiling and quickly feeding him.

The tart was sweet, sour, juicy, flaky, soft, and Gale quickly swallowed, prepared for the next bite. It didn’t take long for the tart to disappear, and Gale’s stomach domed further. A small flicker of hunger still remained, though, and Gale was determined to bury it.

“Another, please,” he rasped, his hand rubbing every inch of his exposed belly.

“Oh, very good, Gale,” Astarion cooed playfully, rubbing Gale’s stomach as well. The vampire gladly acquiesed and pulled another tart close.

Gale’s pace slowed, but he still dutifully took every bite from Astarion. His stomach tried protesting the disappearing space, but Gale was focused on silencing the hunger with Astarion’s help.

It took another tart and a half, but the ache to be filled was quiet at last. Gale groaned in pain and satisfaction at his and Astarion’s victory.

“Look at you,” Astarion whispered in awe. “You ate so well for me. Is the hunger gone?”

Gale wanted only to ruminate on Astarion’s praise, but he nodded his head and slumped a little further in his chair in an attempt to make more room for his overfull stomach.

“It’s…gone,” he huffed, giving his belly a shake but surprised to find just how little give it had.

“Now we know,” Astarion said, pausing to plant a kiss on the top of Gale’s stomach. “What to do when it comes back.”

Goosebumps erupted over Gale’s skin at the sensation of Astarion’s soft lips on his taut skin.

“Gods, Astarion, is this how you felt…that night in the forest?” Gale moaned, his hand caressing his underbelly.

“It’s likely,” Astarion said with a grin. “Depraved, proud, heavy, satisfied…aroused?”

“I’m not sure…how I would even move from here,” Gale grunted, giving his belly a slight heft with his hand. “I apologize…for making you move that night. Hells.”

Astarion continued to run his hands over Gale’s belly, gently rubbing and massaging the sides every now and then. “No, you were right to do so…a forest isn’t the proper place for a stuffing, I realised once you got me into bed.”

Gale simply nodded, unable to form a response as Astarion slowly massaged him. He would gladly stay like this forever if he could. Fed to bursting by the man he loved more than anything, his hands tenderly caring for him.

“You’re beautiful, Gale, do you know that?” Astarion said in a low voice. “Look at you…”

“Star…if I wasn’t pinned down, I would take you right here,” Gale replied slowly, a burp working its way through his words.

“That could still be arranged.”

Gale tried to rock his hips forward, but his immensely full belly kept him from fully doing so. “Hells, Gods, and whatever is in between, please don’t tease me.”

Astarion laughed, the sound like music to Gale’s ears.

“Come, Gale, let’s get you into bed. I have more praise I wish to rain upon you and your…” Astarion purred, curling himself around Gale’s belly. “Accomplishment.”

The sensation of Astarion’s softness against Gale’s tight stomach was shockingly delicious, and for a split second Gale was eager to be able to do the same for Astarion one day. If Gale ate like this reguarly enough, it would be quite soon.

Gale moaned loudly as he tangled his hand in Astarion’s curly, white hair.

He slowly rocked himself out of the chair as Astarion slowly backed away, holding tight to Gale’s hands. A coordinated push-and-pull got Gale out of the chair and to wobbly legs.

His belly sank downward, the weight surprising and exciting Gale. They shuffled him into their room and slowly onto the lavish bed, the silk sheets personally chosen by Astarion the first night they arrived.

Gale slowly moved himself into a comfortable position, propped up by pillows. Astarion was almost glued to his side, curling up close to Gale.

Gale reached out and brushed against Astarion’s soft belly, then trailing up and cradling his round chin in his hand. He pulled him closer for a kiss, his other hand firm on his packed stomach and rubbing gratefully.

Astarion pressed his fat body against Gale’s, as if he was filling any empty spaces with himself and resumed rubbing his belly.

“You are so brilliant, Gale,” Astarion mumured. “Such a good pup.”

Gale shivered again, giving his belly a shake and admiring now how little it wobbled.

“I hope you know that I will be making sure you are well and spoiled. I would like to see this,” Astarion said, stroking Gale’s belly. “As much as possible.”

“I look forward to it…” Gale said, the tightness of his stomach giving way to warmth. He felt drowsiness starting to come on and he would welcome it with open arms.

But before he could fully fade into sleep, he felt Astarion move from his side and begin straddling his hips. His eyes opened in surprise, and he watched as Astarion removed his shirt.

His stomach billowed out first, his pale skin looking like porcelain. His breasts followed, resting beautifully on top of his belly. His arms wobbled as he tossed his shirt onto the floor, and he pressed himself against Gale’s drum-tight belly.

“I need to feel this from every angle.” Astarion sighed lovingly, rubbing up and down, his belly and hips rocking back and forth against Gale.

“Star…” Gale could only moan, brushing his hand against Astarion’s soft stomach and rolls.

“I’ll take good care of you, my love,” Astarion said in a husky voice, pressing more of his weight onto Gale. “Just like you’ve done for me.”