[Astarion heard that hiss -- familiar really, in that first moment when fang pierced skin and blood began to flow -- and it was a lovely soundtrack to that first taste. Gale's blood touched his tongue, and filled his senses in a sudden smokey rush. It was not like the blood of any other creature he'd tasted. No, there was bitterness to be sure, but also that taste of smoke and fire, hot and oddly thrilling, laced through with something powerful, something dangerous.
If Gale was looking for revulsion, he would be sorely disappointed. Instead the sound that caught in the vampire's throat was one of undisguised hunger as he sucked and drew that strange and darkly tainted blood in, eager and thrilled as it washed through him.
His hand dropped to settle against Gale's chest, some half-conceived thought of keeping track of his heartbeat so he would not overindulge, but that was little more than a passing flicker of cognition. No, Astarion was losing himself to the thrill of the bloodlust.]
no subject
If Gale was looking for revulsion, he would be sorely disappointed. Instead the sound that caught in the vampire's throat was one of undisguised hunger as he sucked and drew that strange and darkly tainted blood in, eager and thrilled as it washed through him.
His hand dropped to settle against Gale's chest, some half-conceived thought of keeping track of his heartbeat so he would not overindulge, but that was little more than a passing flicker of cognition. No, Astarion was losing himself to the thrill of the bloodlust.]