Third One's The Charm

     “Constitution aside,” Karlach managed, thoroughly impressed, “I’m surprised you were able to afford one of those things– let alone three.”

     Keylocke shrugged, purposefully wanting to leave their methods shrouded in mystery. ‘Afford’ was maybe too vague, while  ‘asked Astarion to procure’ aimed to be more accurate. Regardless,  what Karlach didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and the result was the same:

     In Keylocke’s possession lay a small selection of fire-proof potions, freshly brewed to perfection. Two of them caught glimpses of the sunlight, resting near Keylocke’s feet. Only an empty shell of the third one remained, an empty bottle wrapped around the tiefling’s fingers. 

     “Let’s say I got them at a discounted rate.”

     Karlack snorted, “Sure you did,” but left it at that. Thankfully.

     The camp near the Grove was an eclectic disaster of a home, with fragments of the party’s lives scattered around rocks and strung-out fabric. Temporary, like most things in Keylocke’s life, but very much cozy given the circumstances. Karlack’s nook, a red tent whose ground was lined with barren comforts, was certainly Keylocke’s favorite spot. In moments like these, the two could sit atop rags and pillows and have the types of conversations they preferred to have in private. Or as private as neighboring with Astarion, but the vampire spawn tended to keep to his own, and with it, so would they. 

     There was something special about sharing mornings like these, quiet and together. It made the tadpoles in their heads seem like nothing more than a passing inconvenience, which was as much wishful thinking as Keylocke would allow. Karlack was a good distraction, though– out of her barbarian armor, fitted with a cotton top and loose-fit pants. The fabric was torn at the edges, scorched by Karlack’s occasional little bursts– but overall, they looked comfortable. Karlack looked comfortable, melted against a pillow, tail swaying lazy back and forth. 

     Keylocke treasured sights like that.

     “You know, you still have– well,” Karlack ran a thumb across her lips, gesturing for Keylocke to do the same. 

     They did, wiping away some leftover potion with it. It was golden and intense but did not feel hot on Keylocke’s fingers. It was an interesting sensation, to be touching it– like holding an oven mitt and reaching to grab something from the flames. Warm, but safe-- inviting, even. They licked it off their fingers, and Karlack straight up guffawed.

     “Tastes good?” She asked, both curious and impressed.

     “Doesn’t taste like much, but I’m pretty sure it works” Keylocke admitted, and with a smile, started heading towards their partner, “May I… test my theory?”

     “That’s sweet and all,” Karla said, suddenly sheepish. If her skin wasn’t already a crimson red, Keylocke suspected her blushing would be all-encompassing, “But I don’t think that’ll be enough for ya. Really, I don’t– I mean, thank you, but I don’t want you to get hurt–”

     “Karlack?”

     “Aye.”

     “I’m going to kiss you now.”

     “Y-yeah, okay, it’s happenin’.”

     Sweet as the moment itself, Keylocke leaned forward, fully intending to let Karlack’s fire melt them whole. For a second— it worked. That same feeling, protecting oven mitt, washed through the skin of their face. It felt stuffy, like wearing one too many sweaters amid Summer, but not unpleasant. Karlack’s noise brushed against theirs, and the woman chuckled in delighted anticipation. 

     Then the oven mitt got a little too close to the fire. 

     Keylocke’s face suddenly felt bare, like a mask being ripped away. They gasped and tried to flinch back out of pure instinct, but it was too late. Karlack’s forehead touched theirs, and Keylocke’s skin sizzled with bubbling heat. They yelped, unable to help it–

     And Karlack looked horrified. 

     “Oh, shit! I didn’t, I– it didn’t work?”

     “It didn’t work,” Keylocke confirmed, eyebrows furrowed, shifting position to reach for their pile of things. 

     Karlack, on the other hand, looked like she’d been kicked. She mumbled a sea of apologies, most of them in Keylock’s ear, out the other, all without making much sense. Her entire body was stiff with guilt, and concern. At one point, she tried to reach out to her partner, very much intending to check in on them– then retreated with such urgency, she almost fell onto the ground. 

     “I can’t touch you,” she finally croaked out, voice dripping with concern, “Shit, Keylocke, I knew this was a bad idea. I’m sorry, I hurt you, and I can’t– maybe we can ask Shadowheart for healing? Hell, even Gale will do right now–”

     “Karlack.”

     Her name was enough to shut her up, and Karlack stared back, eyes wide as plates. Keylocke sighed and gifted them a small, reassuring smile. Karlack’s shoulders dropped if just a little. 

     With that, Keylocke reached for the two bottles, quietly waiting where they had put them. The golden, shimmering potion went down easy as they drank the second one, all in one go. 

     “You’ve gone mad,” Karlack declared, absolutely stupefied.

     “If one doesn’t work, do you think two will?”

     The tiefling seemed to seriously consider it for a second.

     “Probably not,” she breathed out. She still seemed shaken, but Keylocke’s casual attitude towards the burn was slowly chipping away at her worry. “Besides, I don’t think two in one go are good for you. I mean– is that even healthy?”

     Keylocke shrugged. Then, with a wink swiveled the third and last potion around.

     “Whatever it takes to kiss one,” they said because that was the only thing that mattered, “Third one’s the charm, right?”

     And with that and a determined chug chug chug, the third fire resistance potion was gone. The sensation washed over them so much more potent than before. Three oven mitts, tight around their body like a blanket. Stuffy? Yes. Would it be enough to get them to touch Karlack unscathed? Probably not.

     But Karlack let out a single, booming guffaw, and that worry she’d been carried it was no more. 

     “You have gone mad,” She repeated, and this time there was no room to question it.

     “I have,” Keylocke confirmed, chest swelling with pride, “Madly in love, perhaps?”

     Then Karlack was laughing again, and Keylocke could not fight the smile growing on their features. As if they planned it, both lovers leaned forward at the same time, their faces so close to touching once again. Keylocke could feel that blanket fail, just like it had last time– but they didn’t care. The kiss they shared was short and chaste, pulled back by the inevitable tinge of pain that followed. It didn’t matter. Keylocke could go shove some ice cubes up their mouth later, for all they cared. 

     A first kiss for the books, they figured. First, with Karlack’s. Hell and Earth be dammed, it would not be the last. 

     “I wanna hug you now, so bad,” Karlack said, sounding sad, but added, “But man, that’s gonna give me something to think about for weeks! Not in the– I mean, not in that way.”

     Keylocke chuckled, and the feeling inside their chest was so light, so airy, they couldn’t help but plop down on the blanketed ground. Karlack laid beside them, eyes filled with an adoration so bright, it rivaled her fire. 

     “You will soon,” Keylocke swore, tracing their tongue alongside the small burn on their lips. The pain was drowned by how fast their heart was beating, “I’ll make sure of it.”

     “I know you will,” Karlack said with a dreamy sigh, “I believe you. And damn it– I can’t wait!”