His companions were forever curious about where Thomas’s little hideaways in camp were.
It had been down to caution at first. He’d mostly grown up on the streets as a youngster, only being dragged away from them by his sister when an older teen, and that had embedded certain careful habits. For all they needed one another, it didn’t mean that it was safe for him to assume the others had his best interests in mine, did it? In the wilds and in the Underdark they’d found two well protected spots in which to sleep (a great stroke of luck both times) but Thomas had spent some time after finding a place to make his own that was completely out of sight. And he’d done a damn good job of it too. Nobody had worked them out. Perhaps they would have with more effort, but none had felt the need to push too hard at that boundary of his, and over time he’d started spending the occasional night by the central fire after a good night anyway. If he was keeping his bedroll and little cache of belongings somewhere dark and shady, did it really matter? Discussing it as a fun game had become something of a nighttime hobby, though, and as their journey progressed he’d taken to keeping the mystery up just to keep that tiny source of humour alive for his friends.
Their camp in Baldur’s Gate hadn’t been down to chance like the others. Thomas had known this awkward place as a kid; squeezed between water, abandoned docks and barely used houses in the lower city, it had often been used by those who knew of it as an open secret of a ‘haven’ where the Guards apparently never bothered to look. By the time their little group had come to it there had been no life there at all, with the few usable homes surrounding it showing signs of Steel Watch raids.
They had no reason to come back, at least… which hadn’t at all cheered him up. But what could they do but use it as further motivation to fuck over Gortash?
Tom had left the others once they’d set it up initially and, with a cheerful smile, leapt off the balcony next to the chapel and edged across the rocks over to the scaffolding and dock attached to it, the only apparent way to get there now. It had been a deception to throw them off. He knew that Astarion at least had tried to follow Tom’s tracks one night and failed to uncover the true destination, because it was, frankly, very well hidden even to a practiced rogue. The decrepit chapel basement was almost impossible to find if you weren’t already aware of where it was, and indeed, Thomas himself only knew about it because he’d been shown as a child. The place was no great treasure, no more than two tiny dark rooms, but it was relatively dry and free from prying eyes. Best of all, you could move between dock and chapel through it when you knew the trick.
So when he was sat in there reading one particular night, settled in a pile of moth-eaten blankets and using his own magical lights to illuminate the space, a sudden and familiar ‘click’ in one corner almost startled a storm out of his sorcerous blood. Taking a moment to settle the crackles, Thomas first spent a moment to remind himself that the visitor could only be one of his companions or there would have been actual commotion outside. Second, he dragged himself to feet, palming a dagger just in case, and stalked over to where he knew the invader would be coming in shortly.
The lights went off. Darkness enveloped him as he pressed his back against the wall, waiting with practiced quiet. A couple of minutes before the second click. The tiny little hatch opened.
Someone descended.
Thomas smiled as he flicked a button and the hatch closed back over the hapless victim. They were in his arms in seconds, struggling as he dragged them to the floor and grasped them backwards against his chest, the handle of his dagger against their throat. Even playfully, he wouldn’t put the sharp blade’s edge against this particular intruder.
“Hells, was this really necessary?”
“Yes,” Tom said, kissing the tip of Gale’s ear. “You’ve ruined the mystery… and should know better than to come to a dangerous rogue’s hideout alone.”
“With considerable regret I must ruin your game, my love; it was never a mystery to me.”
Normally Thomas would have expected a comment like that to be said in Gale’s ‘brilliant wizard’ voice, but it wasn’t pitched that way this time. He sounded, well, yeah, regretful about it. Like he was genuinely concerned the revelation would be upsetting. It wasn’t, not really, because it wasn’t like the others knew yet, was it? Inhaling softly, then exhaling a little more sharply, Thomas loosened his grip without actually letting go, giving Gale the opportunity to free himself from their awkward ‘embrace’ if he wanted to. It didn’t happen.
“You’re telling me you always knew where I was?” Thomas drew his dagger back, choosing to toss it where he knew it would be safe after a moment of thought. “How?”
“With time and training a sorcerer might blanket their being from your average wizard, but I am so much more than that, even with the dampening effects of our little passengers,” Gale said, quiet but captivating in their pitch black space. “I’ve always been rather taken by the beautiful storm that is you wherever it showed up.”
Ah. Well. Fuck. Of course that was the case, and there was no way it should have been a shock to hear it. Yet shock it was. How? How had he never realised it before? How had he gone through so many years of life without ever considering it? Thinking about his inherent nature as a sorcerer, the fact that he was a stitching of flesh and lightning-singed magic pulled together, had of course been something he’d spent most of his life trying to Not Do, which left him untrained to boot, but… Thomas stared into the darkness and felt very strange about it. Memories of the past, of times he’d been found in the shadows when he’d been so very sure he’d been perfectly concealed, played through his mind.
“…ah, you… you sure about the ‘taken’ part?” It was a final shot at avoidant humour that Thomas was pretty sure wouldn’t work even as the words passed from his mouth. “I was a bit hard on you at first Gale, a bit reactive, so it’s a little hard to believe.”
“A period we have long past worked through.”
Thomas deflated. Tonight Gale was rather effectively deflecting everything that was tried with sincerity and a concern so obvious there was no avoiding it. No need to ask where that concern was coming from, either. Despite everything that had been (hopefully) resolved since that night boating together in the stunning illusion of the heavens there had been no small amount of brooding going on from Thomas, a consequence of the hurt and worry that one admittedly breathtaking moment and promise couldn’t wash away in full. He hadn’t slept at his lover’s back since, or even by their bright campfire, choosing instead to slip away into his dark, dirty hideout once the evening meal was done. A retreat, A temporary retreat, yes, but that was still what it was.
He very gently sat the both of them up (all told a very unnecessarily awkward process when neither was willing to untangle themselves) and settled his arms loosely around Gale’s waist.
“Yeah, we did,” he murmured. “I was a bit over the top, still... and... Gale… I know I’ve been off. Sorry. Should have used my words, it’s just… a bit raw, still, and with everything else going on, how close we are to fighting that thing, I…”
Thomas trailed off, not really knowing how to finish that sentence. Everything really was way too much, but it couldn’t and wouldn’t stop being too much until the Netherbrain was dead, the tadpoles gone and the nightmare planted in Gale’s chest finally gone for good. He’d had one breakdown already, stoking a literal storm alongside his tears in a corner of camp where he wouldn’t flatten everyone’s tents, only hours before Gale had shown relief over the fact that Tom was, indeed, still talking to him. That was all he could afford to have. No more. Not one more. Not yet. Kinda made his brooding seem really fucking foolish with that in mind, huh.
Uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, Gale finally shifted out of Thomas’s grasp, but only so he could turn and touch Tom’s cheek. It was a very searching touch indeed, fingers spreading and seeking for a while before giving up.
“May I turn on the lights?” Gale asked. “I want to get a proper look at you while we talk.”
Yet another thing that made Thomas foolish, how his heart clenched in fear at the request. There was no good reason for that reaction! None! Ugh!
“Probably best,” he said, unable to stop himself huffing a little. “Just keep it soft; anything too bright would ruin my carefully crafted moodiness.”
The light that slowly suffused their space upon a quiet whisper was, indeed, very soft. Gale’s expression was even softer than what he’d conjured, though tired and creased with the worry Thomas hadn’t needed to see to know it would be there. They stared at one another in further silence and Thomas felt strange again, felt vulnerable and exposed within this space he’d never shared no matter where it had been located, felt hurt and nervous and guilty and other things, too many things. Not in the big way he had before the cresting storm he’d unleashed nights before, no, it felt more like a chilly breeze than anything else, leaving goosebumps on his skin and him craving warmth more than anything else.
“There’s clearly a lot on your mind,” said Gale eventually, leaning in, eyes widening with further concern at what he was apparently seeing, what he was understanding. “You know you can always unburden yourself with me, no matter how weighty the millstone. I shall hold and carry everything you need me to, Thomas.”
Please. It wasn’t said out loud but it was there nonetheless, maybe just implied, maybe gently pushed across the connection between their tadpoles, and Thomas broke. He almost fell forward into quickly offered arms and buried his face into purple cloth, breathing in the smell of books and sweat and the hints of wine from the scavenged bottles they’d had with their food. He knew nothing about what made a good vintage but Gale had insisted it was a particularly delicious one when pushing a cup-full into Tom’s hand, eyes bright as he’d started in on a detailed explanation of why that was so. Aroma and body and legs and tannins and whatever, things Thomas would have to learn better later on, but for the moment it had been enough to listen and enjoy Gale eagerly sharing his knowledge.
It was everything. Absolutely everything. All he wanted and needed, no personal ambition greater. A life for them.
“… it… wasn’t just about you… but you know it’s what tipped me over the edge. Been holding onto those tears for years, probably, and I…”
The words came tumbling out like a flood, the dam broken, and it turned out there were still a few of those tears waiting to spring up to accompany Thomas’s babbled words.
“I got angry, but I was angry because I was scared that whole time, of what precious parts of Gale Dekarios would be irretrievably lost if you did what I was worrying you’d do. Couldn’t handle it… and the moment you seemed to draw back from doing that after visiting that bloody shrine, it just crashed the fuck down.”
“Thomas, I’m—”
“Hold it, Gale, please, you don’t need to apologise again, it’s okay. We did that, huh. I believe it all, and I love you, I love you so much it makes me act the clown according to at least a few of our friends. Thunderfuck Tom just has a lot of big emotions and never learned how to handle them well, good or bad, so despite having the talk we had after I needed some time. And uh… yeah, didn’t really need to do that all on my own, don’t need to, because it’s not gone really, is it, and I just… yeah, it makes me a bit of a hypocrite. Could have at least just said I needed some downtime, and, fuck… just, I’m sorry I’ve hurt you in the process, and you should blame me for giving you a wide berth, right? I’m not even fucking sure I actually wanted to be alone for it now, you know, it’s just how I’ve always dealt. I don’t know, I… ”
He trailed off, losing track of himself in the ramble, and in a moment of outstanding commitment to the attempt at communicating better groaned loudly in frustration and pressed himself tighter against Gale. Maybe he was still hiding a bit by doing so, too. Maybe. But… Gale was there and he was so soothingly warm and holding on tight, tighter actually, fingers making soothing circles against Thomas’s back even as Gale’s own laboured breath betrayed weighty emotion, and Thomas wanted to find more words for his lover so badly but he couldn’t work them out right now.
So instead he held on for longer, letting the final tears flow out, and doing his best to help (or at least not hinder) Gale’s attempt at maneuvering the two of them into a far more comfortable position led down on the blankets. Maybe there was some spell or other involved. Didn’t matter. Could tangle their legs up this way.
And that was it for however knows long, until the quietness that always came after an outburst settled into Tom’s heart. Once it had, well, he drew back from the comforting heartbeat of his dear partner and looked him in the eye again. Despite it all, despite the still overwhelming concern that dominated Gale’s lovely face (and by all the nine hells he really was a gorgeous looking man) there was a gentle smile playing on his lips and what might be called gratitude mixed into his expression. Thomas didn’t quite understand the presence of that last emotion.
“Sorry, I know you wanted to see my face when we talked,” he managed, voice sounding rather crackled and sore. “Couldn’t even manage that.”
“It’s quite alright.” Gale cupped one of Tom’s cheeks. “What you gave instead was dearly precious. As due compensation, however, I have to make an important request of you.”
“Anything.”
“I ask that you don’t reference that unfortunate bloody nickname in future. My love deserves a far more apt sobriquet than the one jeered by at him by the inebriated clientele of a questionable dockland tavern!”
Thomas stared. He stared for one long, tense moment before bursting out into what might be the messiest, most tearful yet genuine and belly-deep bouts of laughter he’d ever had. It shook through his body, filled his stomach and would probably have him gasping for breath soon if he wasn’t careful, but Gale, oh Gale, his wonderful Gale, cutting through Tom’s mood with possibly the most, well, GALE sentence that Thomas had ever heard in his life, and perhaps it wouldn’t be so funny and heartwarming to him at any other time but right now it was everything he needed, somehow.
“You can’t be… Gale!” Getting enough air back into his lungs to talk was a genuine challenge. “That’s what you want to focus on? Thunderfuck Tom, the most appropriate and justified insult ever thrown my way?”
“It’s not justified at all!”
“I sent their drinks flying! Getting just an ‘unfortunate nickname’ out of one of my magical outbursts was welcome!”
“You welcome it? Over one singular incident? I think not.”
What the hell was Thomas supposed to even say to that? Gale sounded so serious about it, but through his now blurred and sore eyes Tom could see that Gale was still smiling, still soft. Did he even really care about this or was it just a clever attempt at, well, lightening the burden? Probably both. Something to test later, when the horrifying everything they and their friends were facing was behind them and there was time to be silly and playful and have pointless petty couple arguments without worrying if it would be the last time they would ever talk or touch.
…Tom had really been an asshole, hadn’t he. He huffed out one final laugh, and raised a hand to pull Gale’s hand away from his face only so he could hold it instead.
“Alright, I’ll give you that... for now.” Tom smiled awkwardly with his tease, heart not really in it. “Gale, look… I really shouldn’t have locked you out like that. Really wish I hadn’t, and I want you to know that the next time I slip away in here, it always comes with an invite unless we’ve talked otherwise beforehand.”
“A gracious and most welcome offer,” Gale said. “I know how much you require a space of your own, and I do not begrudge you the retreat when it’s needed.”
“Yeah… ‘when needed’ the important bit, right.”
“Yes indeed. And, Thomas… what I really wished to say to you is that I… that I missed your presence at my side as I slept. Perhaps I have grown too accustomed to such a comfort, perhaps it is selfish, but I treasure it nonetheless.”
There was that vulnerability Thomas had gotten rather good at recognising in Gale, woven into the little pauses and tightening of the eyes and the way his fingers gripped on harder within their joined hands. It was astounding, really, how long it had taken to clock onto most of it. Gale was extremely confident if you were talking magic and many of the surrounding disciplines, as well as food and wine, but that fed right into the point that he wasn’t so about almost anything else. Especially if it involved relationships, connections, being around people. With people. As different as they were in so many ways, in that, at least, they shared their troubles and an occasionally shoddy ability to mask them.
They had so, so much they needed to work on together, but they’d made a few more steps tonight. Had to count for something. Tom felt an intense wave of too many different emotions, but instead of trying to unpick them again he pressed their foreheads together. There’d been enough complicated stuff for one night.
“Me too, Gale,” he murmured. “That’s what I daydream about most. Waking up without any battles ahead, bare and all wrapped up in you, overly warm under halfway decent sheets and happy about it. A life like that is about all I aspire to, once all the bullshit is over and done with.”
Nothing about what Thomas had said should have shocked Gale, but it did. Dark brown eyes went wide and cheeks went pink and then, most precious of all, a single, happily said word was spoken.
“Gosh.”
Not all, definitely not all, but at least some of the worry leaked out of Gale’s face with it, and in its place, something else that made Tom’s own heart skip a beat. Something important? He squeezed Gale’s hand and thought of their future, thought of what it would take to get there, and felt, well… rather tired, actually. Many other things, too, of course, but exhaustion was rarely out of his bones in full these days and tonight had been a lot on top of that. Needed as it was. Worth it as it was. But suggesting sleep felt wrong.
So instead he leaned in for a gladly accepted and lingering kiss before making a show of thoughtfulness and then, a suggestion.
“Gale?”
“Yes?”
“You said earlier you wanted to teach me something of wine, right?”
The light that filled Gale’s features was far more familiar, and well loved; the face of a man who enjoyed sharing his knowledge and had just been asked to. Thomas deeply enjoyed listening to his lover when he was excitable like this, and as the explanation that would certainly almost be forgotten by morning began, too much to be absorbed by a sleepy mind, he felt for one brief wisp of a moment the closest thing to contentment he’d felt on their journey.