finalflight | PSL; SUNSET HIGH AND OUR BODIES LOW

[ It's freeing, having this out in the open, even if there's a great expanse of unknown laid out before them. But being able to touch Astarion like this, to call him darling and be called dear in return, knowing it's genuine... it makes him feel lighter. For a moment, he can forget about the many troubles that plague them. Forget, even, that they're deep behind enemy lines.

As if drawn by some invisible string, he shifts to close the rest of the distance between them, getting up on his knees so he can curl his arms around Astarion's shoulders and pull him close. ]

[Being this far behind enemy lines means so little at times like these, when Winter makes him feel safe. All their worries and trials and tribulations will return to them posthaste, of course, but not right now.

And certainly not when Winter brings him into a warm embrace.

His eyes widen. He really... doesn’t know what to do with himself, and it’s only by some miracle that he has enough awareness to set his glass down with one hand.]

I—

[But the uncertainty fades away in a few seconds’ time. This kind of affection—true, sincere affection—is alien to hm, but he’s drawn into it, too, as though magnetized by the gesture.

And so, finally, his own arms wrap around Winter; so much broader than him, so much to hold. The vampire dips his face down to nestle against his shoulder, much like he did not so long ago…]

Thank you. Again.

[ He can feel the uncertain way Astarion tenses, like he has no idea what to do with the embrace. And why should he? Has anyone ever genuinely hugged him in the last two centuries?

If not, Winter is glad to be the first. He's also glad to just enjoy this, to let Astarion finally melt into it and wrap his arms around him in turn. ]

I think I should be thanking you. For letting me in.

[No, he has never experienced a hug quite like this one in two long, dreadful centuries.

And Astarion just lets it linger for a moment, holding on steadfast, feeling Winter's warmth and taking in the scent of his hair. His fingertips press into his back, and his shoulders rise with a huff. Gratitude and fond amusement exist in his reply, imparting a half-joke.]

Oh, you thank me now. Give it a bit, and see if you'll be thanking me later.

One step at a time, hm?

[ He's aware that 200 years of baggage won't make for the easiest of times but... he thinks that for this, for Astarion, he can endure.

He angles his head to press a kiss to the vampire's temple, in his own little echo of those moments Astarion spent in his arms. ]

[Ah, one step at a time. Truly the mark of patience, and one that he might come to feel indebted to in time.

When Winter presses that kiss against his temple, and Astarion smiles a little wider. He eases himself back just a touch, enough to where he can angle just right to offer him one in return -- a soft press against the warlock's lips. Another thank you of sorts, but this one goes unspoken.]

[ Oh, he will gladly return that kiss, sweet and simple and chaste. A completely different change of pace for the both of them, but wholly welcome. ]

This does not give you leave to jump into the jaws of any more monsters, by the way.

[ He's teasing!!! ]

[A very different change of pace from the usual, but that has meaning, too, doesn't it? Signifying a sea change between them.]

As long as you refrain from standing in the path of any more eyestalk-blasts. [He's going to tease right back.] If you end up dying after all this, I'm going to be very angry with you.

And let you get the last word in? Perish the thought.

[ We just won't think about how Astarion will outlive him anyway. :) ]

[~~guess we'll just have to go the ascended route and turn you into an undead bf, huh~~]

Good. Then I'll hold you to that. [He leans back enough to take in the whole of Winter's expression, smiling.] In the meantime, this quaint little change between us [he means making themselves Official] deserves some celebration, don't you think?

[ ~~how is that the good end tho~~

He leans back a little, if only so he can peer down at Astarion in his arms. He lifts a brow. ]

Is that not what we’re doing right now? Celebrating.

[~~i never said anything about good~~

He arches a brow in return.]

No, what we're doing now is what I hope will become the gold standard between us, time and time again.

[During moments of privacy, anyway.]

I can hardly argue with that.

[ Just spending time like this, in one another's company, in one another's arms, close and content and comforting, sounds like a wonderful habit to form. ]

So, what did you have in mind?

[Astarion reaches over to pick up his once-forgotten glass of wine.]

Finish off our wine, for one. I went to all the trouble of whisking it away, after all.

[AKA he stole it. Not that it was hard.]

After that... Well, I'd say we could just take a turn around great outdoors, enjoy the view beneath the moonlight. But the environment here is a bit too, ah... shadowy for my tastes.

[ Oh, he definitely stole it. It's a good thing Winter thinks that's funny. Winter approves. ]

Gods, I do miss the stars. [ Let him see the sky again!! ] But... I suppose I've one of my own, now.

[...Oh.

Again, funny how Winter can make his heart feel like it's aflutter in his chest when it's just an undead thing. But the sensation is a little thrill that shoots through him all the same, and with the flattery comes the faintest bit of fluster, too.]

Careful, darling. I'll start to think you're a romantic with words like that.

[ He breathes out a little laugh, and reaches up to brush his fingers through Astarion's hair. Astarion is so cute when he flusters, even just a little bit. ]

For all you know, I very well could be. I guess you'll have to stick around and find out for sure.

[Nnnnooo you can perceive him being open about his lack of meaningful relationships, but not his slight tinges of embarrassment!!]

Ha. Like I planned on doing anything less.

[Ahem.]

Now, then. Give us a toast of some sort and then finish your wine.

[ He literally can't help it, I'm sorry.

Anyway, he picks up his yet-untouched glass of wine, considering what to say for a moment. ]

To us, then. To this being something... real.

[Rude as heck.]

And... [He raises his glass in turn, something fond in his eyes despite the acute tilt of his grin.]

To figuring out exactly what that means.

[To a future where they survive just long enough to find out.]

[ Oh, he could get very used to Astarion looking at him like that. It makes something pleasant tighten in his chest.

He lifts his glass to let it clink lightly against Astarion's before he tips the wine back. ]

Oh this is good. You didn't happen to pilfer any more, did you?

[Down it goes, the wine smooth and heavily-bodied. Not that he can truly appreciate it, alas.

But it's a sentiment worth drinking to, all the same.]

I might have borrowed another vintage. Are you hoping to guzzle it and this one down in a single night?

[Getting plastered is definitely one way to celebrate.]

Not that I'd say no.

No, not exactly.

[ He idly swirls the liquid around in his glass before taking another drink. There’s a soft sort of smile on his face when he lowers the glass away from his lips. ]

But it is my hope that we’ll have more to celebrate in the future.

Hm.

[He does like the sound of that. And the look on Winter's face when he says it.]

Such as not dying horribly and-or spouting tentacles from our faces?

[Romantic!]

Hm. I consider that a baseline start.

[ Romantic indeed! ]

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