[For Gale trust was a given unless it was violated, Astarion has his trust, which was certainly saying something considering his affliction would put a blot on one's escutcheon. It hadn't gone beyond Gale's notice, however, that Astarion demonstrated a measure of execrating sentiments about his present situation and it was enough for the Wizard to trust that as far as he could go, his word that he wouldn't would hold some weight. Of course not killing and abandoning him were marks in his favor.
As Astarion shifts his weight, lowering himself on top of Gale, he adjusts, tipping his legs apart to cradle the rogue against him and slinging his arms around to rest low on his companion's waist. The contact between their bodies wrenches from the mage a shuddering hiss as if his arousal wasn't already apparent before it was certainly thriving with the fresh contact between them, and the new friction between them. His hips jerk instinctively under the new force and his face twists a bit in his warring emotions.
Astarion's implications that they should probably be more affixed on their surroundings was the sound voice Gale needed to pull him out of his moment of lackadaisical indulgence. On the other hand the rogue's body pressing him with clear intention was such a sublime temptation, offering the promise of something he'd not had in some time. It wasn't just his elven beauty or his vampire etherealness, but he does like him, his wit, his curiosity, his penchant for mischief--even that had it's charms.]
Well...[Gale began, trying to recenter his thoughts, yet torn between sense and wanting to hook a leg around the other man and crush Astarion to him. His breathing was shallow now, but he tried his best to keep it even.]...it stands to reason given our tenuous situation...
[But...because there is certainly a but that needs to be given the space to undermine logic.]...but we appear to be driving out the need for reason and I don't mind that.
no subject
As Astarion shifts his weight, lowering himself on top of Gale, he adjusts, tipping his legs apart to cradle the rogue against him and slinging his arms around to rest low on his companion's waist. The contact between their bodies wrenches from the mage a shuddering hiss as if his arousal wasn't already apparent before it was certainly thriving with the fresh contact between them, and the new friction between them. His hips jerk instinctively under the new force and his face twists a bit in his warring emotions.
Astarion's implications that they should probably be more affixed on their surroundings was the sound voice Gale needed to pull him out of his moment of lackadaisical indulgence. On the other hand the rogue's body pressing him with clear intention was such a sublime temptation, offering the promise of something he'd not had in some time. It wasn't just his elven beauty or his vampire etherealness, but he does like him, his wit, his curiosity, his penchant for mischief--even that had it's charms.]
Well...[Gale began, trying to recenter his thoughts, yet torn between sense and wanting to hook a leg around the other man and crush Astarion to him. His breathing was shallow now, but he tried his best to keep it even.]...it stands to reason given our tenuous situation...
[But...because there is certainly a but that needs to be given the space to undermine logic.]...but we appear to be driving out the need for reason and I don't mind that.