[ Survival under Cazador's heel meant always seeking easy prey, the path of absolute least resistance for following deadly orders. There are a number of reasons Astarion pinned Tav down tonight, but one is that she isn't a puzzle box he'd have to tinker with, nor did she present him with a gauntlet to run or missiles to dodge in the courting of her.
Her top suitor, on the other hand, is somehow full of surprises. Perhaps Gale is the gauntlet, even though Astarion knows he's won this round; Gale has already implied he won't give up on Tav so easily, no matter how maudlin he may have looked when Astarion stumbled upon him.
Astarion can't help but feel the anticipation of the chase heat his stolen blood, wine-dark eyes fixed on Gale's lips against the mouth of the bottle, the liquid tracing a path down his neck that Astarion's fingers suddenly itch to follow. His tongue strokes over a fang beneath his closed lips, momentarily distracted. How would the wizard taste, compared to Tav? Just as alcoholic is the answer tonight, but humans always have a subtle difference in flavor, at minimum. Would he be dry, rich, sweet? Would he yield easily to a bite or fight back, muscles and skin taut beneath Astarion's fangs?
Gale is taking too long with the bottle, and Astarion doesn't particularly want any more, anyway. He strides -- with only a hint of wobble -- to the edge of the water, the sand cold and gritty beneath his feet. ]
Right. How silly of me, to forget you've fucked a god. [ Attention pinned on this plane and the next. He is, despite himself, curious about the finer details and the proximity to power, what that must have felt like; though Gale has fallen far since.
Astarion pulls his shirt up over his head, tossing another nasty look over his shoulder at Gale as he throws it back toward the rocks he's settled on. ]
Or, sorry, I suppose she's fucked you in more ways than one.
[ Astarion still intends to wash, even with an audience. Gale's observation snags on him, though; a wave pulls further in toward the shore than Astarion anticipated, soaking his pants above the ankle before it recedes. ]
How could I be stifled, after the night I've had? [ A deception check he might just fail, the way his voice goes a little tight, nostrils flaring as he turns his gaze back out over the water. ] In your words. I'm perfectly sated, in every way.
no subject
Her top suitor, on the other hand, is somehow full of surprises. Perhaps Gale is the gauntlet, even though Astarion knows he's won this round; Gale has already implied he won't give up on Tav so easily, no matter how maudlin he may have looked when Astarion stumbled upon him.
Astarion can't help but feel the anticipation of the chase heat his stolen blood, wine-dark eyes fixed on Gale's lips against the mouth of the bottle, the liquid tracing a path down his neck that Astarion's fingers suddenly itch to follow. His tongue strokes over a fang beneath his closed lips, momentarily distracted. How would the wizard taste, compared to Tav? Just as alcoholic is the answer tonight, but humans always have a subtle difference in flavor, at minimum. Would he be dry, rich, sweet? Would he yield easily to a bite or fight back, muscles and skin taut beneath Astarion's fangs?
Gale is taking too long with the bottle, and Astarion doesn't particularly want any more, anyway. He strides -- with only a hint of wobble -- to the edge of the water, the sand cold and gritty beneath his feet. ]
Right. How silly of me, to forget you've fucked a god. [ Attention pinned on this plane and the next. He is, despite himself, curious about the finer details and the proximity to power, what that must have felt like; though Gale has fallen far since.
Astarion pulls his shirt up over his head, tossing another nasty look over his shoulder at Gale as he throws it back toward the rocks he's settled on. ]
Or, sorry, I suppose she's fucked you in more ways than one.
[ Astarion still intends to wash, even with an audience. Gale's observation snags on him, though; a wave pulls further in toward the shore than Astarion anticipated, soaking his pants above the ankle before it recedes. ]
How could I be stifled, after the night I've had? [ A deception check he might just fail, the way his voice goes a little tight, nostrils flaring as he turns his gaze back out over the water. ] In your words. I'm perfectly sated, in every way.