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Wyll was the easiest to target in the group.
The hero complex was easily the best way to take advantage of the man and Astarion was not above it to play the role to get what he needed. He couldn't lean fully into the damsel in distress, but he sneaked it in when possible and while Wyll was within sight.
He had made the mistake of going for Gale one night, his mind plagued by wrenching hunger as he took a bite of the wizard only for the tainted foul blood to sting his throat as he spit it out. Gale was very upset, not as upset as Astarion for foolishly thinking the wizard was an easier prey, unphased that he was a vampire but more annoyed that the bite hurt . He wouldn't make that mistake more than once, but then Gale told Astarion that he had to tell the camp his secret or he would do it…
So, of course, Astarion told the others.
They didn't mind it, much, other than a few jabs that he better not bite them, in response to which Astarion waved them off saying he would never while ignoring a scoff and eye roll from the wizard. Gale was supposed to be the easy target, but he was grateful the man never spoke a word about biting him, just casting a knowing glance that Astarion fully ignored.
But it was true, at the time, he wouldn't bite any of them.
But now traveling the last few days from the Underdark to the shadow-filled cursed lands where small animals didn't dare to roam as freely like in the wilds, Astarion was getting hungry, sloppy, and desperate.
Thus Wyll.
The hero-complex good boy warlock in the group was his new target.
This time Astarion waited til the others rested and Karlach woke the man up to take the next watch as Wyll took her place by the fire with a gentle good night exchange, settling on a thick fallen tree, the closest thing they had to a chair. Once the vampire heard her heart slow down into the peaceful rest, he moved in.
Clearing his throat to announce his presence - Astarion did not want to be blasted away by an Eldritch Agonizing blast - Wyll looked startled as he looked up from his book but quickly gave a soft smile. "Oh, Astarion! What's wrong, mate?"
"I can't sleep." The vampire smiled back, moving in to sit close to the human turned devil, turning towards him while still keeping that shy smile that men and women alike fell for.
"Ah, right, vampires lack the need to sleep." Wyll chuckled, placing his bookmark while placing his book off to the side, temporarily forgotten, to give the vampire his full attention and turning slightly towards him.
"Well, yes, and I do meditate to pass the time, but…" He sighed, placing his hand on the ground, close enough to the other’s to be purposeful but with enough distance for plausible deniability; he leaned back as he looked up towards the dreary sky as the moon and stars peaked by thick clouds. "These last few nights have been extra hard on me," he confessed, turning his head towards Wyll and locking eyes with him. "Hunting for food in these cursed lands is near impossible and I feel myself getting weaker and weaker."
"Oh?" Wyll breathed out, mismatched eyes looked downwards in which Astarion reacted subtly licking his lips. Wyll's eyes snapped up to his own again, as he cleared his throat and sat up straight, looking away once more while missing the smirk from Astarion. "I haven't noticed the lack of wildlife, but that does make sense, as in battle you have been…" He trailed off his thoughts.
"I would hate to be detrimental to the team with all the traps and locked chests about," the vampire added, letting his eyes wander over the warlock's horns to the sharp cheekbones to his neck. "Being trapped to this hunger that no mortal food can sate is absolute hell."
Wyll swallowed and Astarion couldn't help but mimic as he watched his throat and wondered how it would feel between his teeth as he forced himself to look up at the devil's face with a soft yearning smile that he didn't even need to fake. The other frowned when he looked at the vampire, biting his lips in deep thought. "I can…" He paused, clearing his throat as he turned back to Astarion. "You can have some of mine." Red eyes widened at the words and Astarion opened his mouth to say something but Wyll cut him off. "Though I'm not sure what infernal blood would taste like; hopefully it is fine for you."
Astarion was practically vibrating in his seat with excitement at the mere thought of blood, forcing himself to calm down. "I appreciate it, but only if you're comfortable," he said with a steady voice, quite proud of himself for keeping it together.
"You're in need of help and I am in a position to help you." Wyll flashed a smile, one that felt like he was his old self before all this disaster had started. "Of course, do not force yourself if I don't taste good; I promise not to take offense." He chuckled nervously. "Should I lay down?"
Astarion was salivating, ready to pounce but he took a small breath that was unnecessary but to ground himself as he smiled at the hero. "It's your body." He moved from the tree bark they sat on to stand before the other. "If you're comfortable laying down, be my guest, but sitting will do just fine." He kneeled before Wyll and looked up with soft eyes as he placed his hands on the man's knees. "I'm comfortable anywhere."
"R-right," he stuttered, looking down at the pale hand on his knee, and then looking up at Astarion's face with a look that the vampire had come accustomed to over the many years. The uncertainty of having him before them and the unspoken question of what is to happen that excited people. In this case it was different but the look was the same of anticipation of what is to come. "So, neck? It's a bit hard for you to reach from down—"
Asterion pushed himself up, close to Wyll's face as the warlock gasped at how close they suddenly were and the vampire's soft gentle gaze from before turned into a smirk with half hooded eyes. "Neck is a good place," he murmured, letting his hand move up Wyll's leg, feeling the muscle tense up before letting his left hand grasp gently at Wyll's wrist, his thumb pressed against the fast pulse. "But it might be a bit too much for you, darling." He felt Wyll's pulse skip and he couldn't contain the grin that grew on his face. "Wrist would be best, for now," he added, a subtle promise that there would be another time.
"You're the expert here," Wyll muttered, biting his bottom lip again.
Astarion brought his wrist close to his lips, not breaking eye contact. "You're actually my first," he said before bringing it close to his lips, pressing a soft gentle kiss to the gift that Wyll was giving him, almost missing the soft whimper that left the man before biting down.
Wyll let out a hiss at the bite, the sharp pain nearly made him jerk his arm away but he stopped himself from ripping away to avoid hurting the both of them. As quickly as the pain came, it left as the area became numb, blood leaving him into the vampire's starving lips.
Astarion moaned at the infernal blood, sucking as it gushed into his mouth at the rich flavor that exploded against his tongue. He had hoped that it wouldn't be another interesting instance like Gale and he was pleased to find that Wyll's blood tasted better than anything he had ever had before. The warm infernal blood was a savory, sweet, rich dark nectar that Astarion was quickly finding addicting the more he drank, becoming filled like a refugee eating their first warm soup in months. He savored each drop of the devil's blood as if it were the finest vintage wine, relishing the intense blend of flavors that danced across his palate. The blood, dark and alluring, carried a tantalizing mixture of smoky undertones and a subtle hint of spice, leaving an exquisite sensation that lingered long after each suck. With each indulgent taste, Astarion felt his senses were heightened, better than any boar he had bled dry, and his hunger satisfied by the intoxicating richness. His mind screamed for more, to drink until there was nothing left.
"Astarion?" Wyll breathed out, catching the vampire's attention as he opened his eyes to look over to the glazed look in the devil's eye and flushed face.
He moaned again, removing his fangs from the hold as he flatten his tongue over the holes and pressed to slow the bleeding. The spawn pulled his lips away, giving kitten licks to clean away the blood as his saliva did its job at closing the wound up. Smiling at his work he gently placed the arm to rest on Wyll's leg and licked his lips clean.
"You are exquisite, dear." Astarion licked at his own sharp teeth before grinning. "A gift I will never forget."
Wyll blushed even harder, avoiding red eyes that seemed to glow now that the vampire was full. He cleared his throat in embarrassment and bashfulness. "Ah, well, hopefully that is true. I cannot say how devil blood would fare against hum—"
"I wouldn't know," Astarion cut him off with a shrug, standing up to brush his knees from the dirt. "I never had until you, my sweet Wyll, and this was amazing. I could eat you up for the rest of my days and want nothing more." He offered a hand that Wyll took, pulling him to his feet with ease as the warlock tried to keep himself steady and froze as Astarion kissed his knuckles with a wink.
"Please, don't hesitate to ask for help again, Astarion," Wyll muttered, feeling silly that the vampire was treating him so softly now.
"Of course," Astarion whispered, leaning closer into his space. "And if you need anything from me, just call my name and I'll come running." He grinned as Wyll's eyes started to shut as he leaned in but he pulled back. "You should go to bed and rest, I'll keep watch."
Wyll's eyes snapped open, disappointment clear on his face for the moment to be broken. "Right." He frowned, pulling away from Astarion, keeping his hand in the vampire's in a silent want to be pulled back, but it was broken with Astarion not moving. "Good night."
"Good night, my pet."