[Astarion was not exaggerating on his ability to make Gale sing: it's not long before the first moan rattles its way out of the wizard's throat, a breathy, dry sound that speaks volumes of how he's feeling at that moment. Despite the privacy of their surroundings, he pulls his fist to his mouth, biting his knuckles in the hopes of keeping himself quiet.
It does him no good, as Astarion's second, slower pass pushes him further - another moan emerges from his throat, louder. He can't tell if it's the bath or the heat welling in his chest, but gods, is it hot in there. His grip on the outer ledge tightens, his fingers struggling for purchase as his toes curl beneath the water.
The grit of Astarion's tongue drags along his shaft, and Gale is forced to throw his head back as a heavier, wanton groan echoes from his chest. He stops biting his hand, sending it beneath the water instead to lace itself through Astarion's hair.]
no subject
It does him no good, as Astarion's second, slower pass pushes him further - another moan emerges from his throat, louder. He can't tell if it's the bath or the heat welling in his chest, but gods, is it hot in there. His grip on the outer ledge tightens, his fingers struggling for purchase as his toes curl beneath the water.
The grit of Astarion's tongue drags along his shaft, and Gale is forced to throw his head back as a heavier, wanton groan echoes from his chest. He stops biting his hand, sending it beneath the water instead to lace itself through Astarion's hair.]