When Gale wakes, he can tell something has changed. He’s let go of Astarion’s arm in his sleep, which is rather disappointing, but the pressure against his legs has moved, can’t feel anything against the nape of his neck.
It’s then that a cold breath flutters across his face, and his eyes shoot open, realizes he’s turned over in his sleep to face Astarion, his knees against Astarion’s legs, is less than inches from his resting face. Gale’s heart can’t keep up the act of being calmed, thuds dully against his ribs as he stares at the other man before him. He fights an urge to peck every bit of his face, tamps down the need to kiss him awake.
A slow sort of rise to insure he doesn’t wake the other, props himself up, is looking down over Astarion, tracing lines on his face with his gaze, cataloguing each groove, the rise of his cheekbones, the point of his nose, the hollow of his eyes. There’s an underlying desire to touch, to run his fingers over each feature and imprint the tactile feeling of Astarion’s skin into his mind, is trying to restrain it. He isn’t trying hard enough apparently, lifts his arm without thought, the hand reaching, reaching, as his mind seems to catch up with his actions and he finally stills it moments before contact.
“Yes, Gale?” Astarion asks and Gale pulls back his hand like he’s been burned, his face flaming with embarrassment. The rogue’s eyes open slowly, and Gale questions just how long he’s been awake already, if he’d noticed Gale’s terribly awkward staring, his encroaching hand.
Is it awkward? Is it a problem? Gale knows he’s told him to stop flirting, is showing him how to be something real, but is that dating? Sure, he did take him on a date, but that was one date, does that count as dating? Is it a commitment? Just an understanding so that Astarion can move on from him, date who he pleases, and Gale’s just his teacher?
Gale can’t help but doubt every little thing each and every time, as much as his crush grows and grows, isn’t sure if he can recover from this ‘fling’ if that’s what this is. Mystra has tainted him, practically groomed him from a young age to follow her, and being free of her hold was devastating at first, her love being all he had known for romantic relationships in the past several years. Now, her absence is a void being consistently filled with Astarion instead, and Gale doesn’t think he wants to stop that particular endeavor, can almost admit to wanting her gone entirely, because while she’ll remain in his heart, it’s not nearly as intoxicating as what he shares with the man before him.
Every blink, every breath and movement, each smile and laugh, anything at all that he does is somehow attractive, but it’s more than just that, it all makes Gale’s heart ache, his crush more than about looks, has attached himself to who Astarion is as well. It’s maddening, how it feels, an obsession that flows through his blood, his bones, the want to touch, hold, kiss, but to also cuddle, to make him laugh and smile with abandon, to sit by his side and share sweet nothings, to simply spend time existing next to him would be enough. He hopes that Astarion feels the same, craves the attention in return, would be devastated if he were to leave, if something were to happen to him.
“Not that I mind darling, but is staring all you can do?”
Astarion’s voice causes him to finally refocus, realizing he’s zoned out while looking straight at his face, and he smiles lamely, averts his gaze quickly. “Sorry.” Gale manages, “Spacing out.”
“Am I that boring?” Astarion sounds offended.
“No!” Gale spurts out before he can realize Astarion’s teasing him, and the rogue grins, raises his eyebrows as if to say ‘Well?’.
“Just have a lot on my mind.” He supplies lamely.
“I see.” Astarion replies with a slow blink, watching Gale with an unreadable expression before sitting up. “Well, don’t be interrupted on my account. Think away.”
But Gale’s thoughts are a tangled mess, and he voices the first, “Do you like me?” No. He did not just say that aloud, did he? He did. Oh Gods, that censor in his brain is truly useless around Astarion, can’t manage to keep the damned thing in a state of working order.
Astarion stares at him for a moment, and Gale wishes he could cast Detect Thoughts discreetly. Is his mind a mess like Gale’s, filled with thoughts of want and adoration, or is it questioning Gale’s sanity as he so often does himself?
“Whatever do you mean?” Astarion asks him and Gale wishes he didn’t have to answer, could think of some clever way to get out of this predicament.
Gale sighs, looking down, away, can’t stare into Astarion’s eyes to see the reply, “Are you... attracted to me?” He asks, because that’s at least something, isn’t it? He feels like he’s fishing for compliments, a blush coloring his face, can’t bear to ask his real questions. Questions like ‘Are we dating?’, ‘Do you want to date me?’, ‘Would you want to spend every day with me?’. No, that last one doesn’t belong, Gale can’t bear to even think it again, doesn’t want to dwell on just what that might mean if he focuses on it enough.
“I thought you were always full of yourself.” Astarion chides, “Is the great Gale of Waterdeep unsure of his own looks now?”
Gale knows he’s trying to tease him, but it’s not a reply, not an answer, and that hurts more than just telling him a flat ‘no’. He doesn’t move, his stomach in knots of doubt.
Astarion’s cool fingers brush his chin, tugging Gale up to face him, the eyes of the other man not giving anything away one way or another. He lets go of Gale’s chin and traces a line up his jaw with his hand, cups his cheek, holds there, tips of his fingers gripping onto the nape of Gale’s neck.
The silence is deafening as he holds the gaze, can feel the ruby eyes piercing into him, lancing through to his soul. Astarion’s other hand comes up to cup the remaining side of Gale’s face, holding him there, unblinking. The rogue leans in slowly, like he would startle if the other moved too fast, and he could feel that he could pull from the hold if he desired, can tell that Astarion’s giving him the choice.
He can’t take that choice, wants this so badly, and Astarion closes the distance, lips pressing into Gale’s with a soft chill, eyes slipping closed. When he doesn’t pull back, Astarion tugs him closer, fingers burying up into Gale’s hair, holding with a need that loosens the worry in Gale’s stomach, at least a little. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t withdraw from the kiss, lips sliding over his in a wet, desperate sort of kiss, and Gale relaxes, can’t resist returning the desire he feels within him, his hands following his instructions finally, coming up to hold Astarion’s face in mirror.
A kiss with fervor now, breaths mingling between them, his heart thundering in his chest, and Gale cards up into Astarion’s hair, tugs at it, as if to pull them further together, though they can be no closer, and Astarion makes a noise in his throat that makes Gale’s heart stutter in his chest, a flash of lust shoot through to his groin. He pulls back as his chest aches, needs to keep the Orb in check so he doesn’t implode with his unadultered want for Astarion alone.
“You said it yourself last night, Gale.” Astarion murmurs, breath ghosting over his lips, can feel the movement of them just beyond his, a hair’s breadth between them, “You’re an incredibly handsome devil.”
Gale chuckles, his voice feeling hoarse, has to clear his throat before managing to speak, “I did say that, didn’t I?” He can feel Astarion leaning forward for another kiss and pulls back, can’t test the orb too much in one day, though Astarion follows him for a bit, acting like Gale after their first kiss, almost addicted and it sends another warning bolt of both pain and need through Gale.
Astarion’s eyes flick half open in a soft but chiding glare, is tugging at Gale’s neck with his fingertips. “Don’t worry Gale, I'm very attracted to you. Now get back here.” He warns.
A deep breath to keep himself in check, “Still a bit volatile right now.” He informs, and Astarion stops pulling, eyes opening fully, drops a hand down to ghost over Gale’s chest and rests it over the mark of the Orb.
His look is questioning and Gale nods. “I’m afraid some things may have to wait a bit, at least until I find a master wizard or something to calm this thing down.” Gale explains, is a bit glad of it at the same time that he despises it. He wants to take it slow for Astarion to show him the proper way, partially out of responsibility and partially out of hope that Astarion will reciprocate his feelings, though he also wants to kiss the absolute daylights of the man, to draw more of those delightful little noises out of him if he can.
Astarion huffs a breath, bites his lip softly on one side, withdraws his hand from Gale’s face, is about to do the same from Gale’s chest when Gale puts his hand over the others and holds it there.
“I do still enjoy the kisses though. I wouldn’t mind doing those more, if you’ll permit me that much.” He admits.
“Anytime you’d like darling.” Astarion replies softly with a smile.
“Anywhere?” Gale asks.
Astarion blinks at him like he’s asked the dumbest question in the world, “Of course.”
“Even in front of the others?” Gale queries, wants to make sure he has permission, because once he does, he doesn’t plan to stop. Maybe it’ll somehow make it official, or at least it will in his mind anyway.
“Can’t contain yourself?” Astarion teases, but Gale holds his gaze, waiting. “If you'd like, darling, I don’t mind.”
Gale gives him a look to say, ‘Are you sure?’ but Astarion doesn’t take it back, so he lets go of Astarion’s hand on his chest, the cool pressure pulling away. He stands and Astarion follows suit, though before he goes to leave the tent he leans in once more, kissing Astarion on the lips firmly.
He pulls away, catching Astarion by the hand for a moment to hold him still, intertwining his fingers, “One for the road.” he mumbles against his lips, then whispers, right by Astarion’s ear, a secret shared, “Just so you know, I’m also very attracted to you too, ‘Star.”
Gale pulls away with a devilish smirk of his own, can see Astarion’s eyes first go wide with surprise, then narrow with suspicion. So, Gale’s given up his little secret, but it’s worth it for the flush across Astarion’s cheeks, the dusting of pink that Gale would swear he can see on the tips of his ears too but can’t tell for sure in the dim light of the tent. He whisks out of there before Astarion can stop him, perhaps even question him, and meets with the party.
Astarion gives him a threatening glance that isn’t hostile, but promising, and Gale knows he’ll be in for it later. Right now, though, they have another path to explore, climbing back out where Baelen had been, the area a charred remnant of its former state. The party gets close enough to spot Hook Horrors waiting ahead, and while Gale mumbles something about his knees, they all sneak as best as they can to get the jump on them.
The ploy works, at least until a Bulette erupts from the ground and trips them all up, and Gale is flung right next to a Sussur Blossom, his magic sapped away from him. The large, armored creature is slow and Tav and Karlach have it pinned, but two Hook Horrors remain, and since Astarion is no longer hidden, lays prone from the cascade of dirt, they descend on him.
Gale feels helpless without his magic, can’t cast where he is, but he makes a mad dash, straight for the rogue, thwacks the back of one of the creature’s heads with his staff. It rounds on him and slashes, but it’s not a deep wound, even if it stings across his arm and shoulder.
He ignores the pain, extends a hand to Astarion, who takes it, and he helps the other to his feet. Up now, and looking miffed, Astarion stabs the one Gale has smacked, takes it down in two quick thrusts of his daggers. In the background Karlach and Tav are dealing finishing blows to the Bulette while Gale struggles trying to trip the remaining Hook Horror, another Sussur blossom behind them thrumming away his spells.
Astarion gives it a series of stabs, and the battle is gratefully over, and he turns towards Gale, holding out a healing potion. Gale downs it with a ‘Thanks.’ and breathes a sigh of relief as the wound closes back up, takes a quick glance over Astarion, makes sure he isn’t sporting any new wounds, but he seems unscathed, only watches the trail of blood left over trickle down his robes, out of sight.
A clearing of the throat to get Astarion’s attention, his pupils dark with hunger, but he doesn’t take long to refocus on Gale’s face. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”
“It will be better when we’re away from these things.” Gale motions to the flowers.
“They do seem to make casting magic nigh impossible.” Astarion agrees, casting a glance back at Gale.
“Yes, they do.” He responds, steps away from the thing as Karlach and Tav begin to climb the great tree’s branches, aiming to pluck out the bark needed for the masterwork weapon.
Gale reluctantly follows them, Astarion trailing behind, and the blossoms are thicker here, he can feel the terrible pull, almost sickening in his core. Could it sap the orb? It’s hard to say, but most likely not, but an ambush is still possible, and Gale snaps his head back and forth at every rustle, on high alert.
“You seem jumpy.” Astarion notices as Karlach and Tav navigate the tangled mess above them, and Gale refuses to go any further, the blossoms worse the higher they go.
“We’re exposed.” Gale explains, expression one of concentration and a touch of annoyance.
Astarion looks around with a raised eyebrow, but there’s nothing to see, not this far up in the reaches of the tree. “Gale, there’s nothing up here.”
“There could be. If there is, I’d like to be ready this time. Without my magic, I can’t do much, but I can warn the others.” He responds, his gaze distant.
The other ducks into his line of sight, and even when Gale furrows his brow and tries to look around him, Astarion follows. He relents and looks at him, sees Astarion’s calm gaze. “Gale, we’re fine. You don’t have to worry.”
“Magic can decide if we live or die.” Gale argues with a snap, but Astarion only tuts at him.
“We can all handle ourselves without your magic Gale, we’ve done well thus far.” Astarion tells him, and Gale starts back, like a barb has been slung at him. He’s right, of course, but it’s like he’s said he didn’t need him there, and Gale’s taken it personally, hides away the pain without asking for confirmation about his thoughts.
“If it bothers you that much, we can head down below. Nothing can get up here without going by us, and we can stay away from the flowers that you hate so much. Would that be better?” Astarion offers.
Gale lets the frustration slip away, tucks away his dark thoughts, and nods in response. “I’ll let the others know and be right behind you.” Astarion pads over to Tav and Karlach, exchanges words, and Gale wonders what he says, but it doesn’t seem to involve him, as the others don’t even look his way. The man steps back, threading through blossoms with practiced footing, motions for Gale to descend.
Back on the ground, Gale has felt the guilt bubbling up in his gut, and once Astarion’s off the tree, and they’re away from the Sussur blooms, he blurts out with, “Sorry.”
Astarion blinks at him, “Whatever for?”
“I snapped at you for no good reason.” Gale admits, “I was worked up over losing my magic earlier, that I couldn’t help you when you were down.”
“You did help though.” Astarion rebuts.
“Barely. Whacking it with my staff did hardly anything.” Gale shuffles his feet, twisting his hands through each other. “I felt useless, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Astarion places hands over his, stilling them. “Apology accepted Gale, but you’re wrong about that.”
“About what?” Gale asks, confused.
“You’re not useless.” Astarion answers, “No one else rushes to help me up like you do, or to assist me in or out of a battle, even if I don’t need it.”
“You did fine without me before.” Gale mumbles and Astarion frowns.
“You’re twisting my words, Gale.” Astarion chides, “I only meant that you didn’t need to be so worried about all of us. I didn’t mean we don’t need you now. We couldn’t have gotten down here without your Featherfall spell, and there are plenty of other times that your help has decided a fight for us. I don’t know if the party would hold together without it’s resident wizard.”
Gale blinks at him in surprise, as Astarion’s words melt away the worry. He feels stupid for thinking those awful thoughts at all. “I worry too much, don’t I?” He asks.
“Yes, you do.” Astarion agrees with a smile, pulls Gale’s hands apart to hold one in each hand, pulls them up to his lips to press a soft kiss to both. “But that’s alright.”
The heart in his chest is back to swelling with adoration, and even though he can hear Karlach and Tav descending behind them, Astarion doesn’t let go of his hands or turn his head. Gale can hear Karlach making some sort of ‘Aw’ sound, and Tav gently shushing her, pulling her away to loot around the area.
Astarion is unfazed, only blinks at Gale slowly, as if waiting, and Gale doesn’t need to be told, leans into the other with a kiss, a little peck, pulls away. More blinking at him, almost a shred of exasperation, and now Astarion is pulling his hands, tugging him back into his lips again, kisses Gale soundly on the mouth.
Somewhere in the distant Karlach squees in delight, but it makes no difference to the two. Astarion pulls away, lets go of Gale’s hands with a thoughtful hum.
Gale raises an eyebrow at him, and he responds, “If you’re done worrying, I do see a lovely little buried treasure the other two haven’t spotted.”
A chuckle from Gale and he motions for Astarion to go ahead. Astarion draws one of his daggers, like he’s going to dig with that rather than a shovel, and Gale almost stops him, but Astarion catches his eyes, and Gale’s mouth dries up. His look is entirely too suggestive and Gale wonders what he’s missed.
“You know Tav said when we get back, we’ll turn that bark into a dagger I can use to silence mages. Maybe I can use it to stop your incessant worrying all the time.” Gale goes to speak but Astarion’s moved closer, his dagger still drawn, the metal flashing in the light, and it takes him a beat longer than necessary to respond as Astarion fondles it, tracing a finger over the blade, somehow making it seem incredibly sensual.
Gale swallows a lump in his throat, “I don’t think it works on anything but my magic.” He’s glad Astarion doesn’t know more about magic and its downfalls, because it’s actually like to silence him entirely. Hopefully he doesn’t learn.
“Pity.” Astarion replies, steps by Gale like he’s walking away, halting for a second to lean in, “Would have been nice to see your reactions if you couldn’t make a noise.” He whispers, breath ghosting over Gale’s ear, and the wizard’s heartbeat feels as if it doubles at least, if not more. Astarion only saunters away with a sultry smile, acting as if he’s done nothing of note.
Gale calms his heartbeat, filing that thought process away into the depths of his mind, and squints in the distance where Astarion’s gone. It almost looks like he’s digging up a grave, but he elects to ignore that, and try not to think about it. Though when he looks that way, he can spot what looks like a tall building across the way, much too far to leap, just a shape in the haze. Tav and Karlach meander over near him and he points it out.
“Might be a way around, we can check it out.” Tav offers with a nod.
“Hey, Gale.” Karlach shuffles her feat, looking embarrassed.
“Yes?” He asks, wondering what’s up.
“I’m sorry for butting in on you two. I know it’s none of my business, I just want everyone to be happy, you know?” Karlach apologizes and Gale can’t help but smile.
“It’s nothing to worry about. If I’ve taken it wrong before, I apologize in return. You meant well, I know.” Gale offers.
Karlach’s head picks back up, a wide grin spreading on her face, “It’s all good? Aw, that’s great soldier. I did mean well, I swear. I’ll keep my nose in my own business from now on.” She scratches the back of her head in a nervous gesture, “Though I may still coo over you two. You’re so damn cute together.”
Gale can’t help but color red, but rather than answer sheepishly, he smiles and turns to watch Astarion with a fond look, “Thanks.”
It only makes Karlach go into overload, internally dying of ‘cuteness’ most likely. Tav shares Gale’s fond look, but they’re making those doe eyes at Karlach instead.
Astarion doesn’t see the exchange at first, has dug up some sort of collar covered in runes that he pockets. Maybe it’s enchanted, he isn’t sure, but the rest of the party is looking around like they’re planning to go somewhere so he walks over to them, nearly spooking Gale in the process with his quiet steps.
“Ah!” Gale jumps just a little, “Astarion!” He’s pink for some reason, but Astarion isn’t sure why.
“Whatever is it we’ve spotted now?” Astarion asks, exasperated.
“There’s some sort of building over there, see?” Gale points across the way and Astarion turns, giving a sigh.
“And I suppose we have to check it out.” Astarion deadpans.
“Loot is loot.” Tav shrugs.
“I like looting as much as the next thief, but there is a limit.” He grumbles, but Tav’s already walking off, paying him no mind. There’s a brief wish for a wall to bang his head on, but not only would it not do any good, it may leave marks behind, and that’s simply not worth the trouble.
For now, they’ll just have to worry about whatever lays before them in the fog, heading off further into what the secrets of the Underdark hold for them.
