[Gods, the heat radiating off his own face is unbearable. Gale breathes in Astarion's skin, that hand on his backside encouraging him. With his free hand, he reaches for the waist of Astarion's trousers again, pushing them downward, testing how much give they have.
He licks his lips, pressing the bridge of his nose to Astarion's neck as he whispers into the muscle he finds there.]
no subject
He licks his lips, pressing the bridge of his nose to Astarion's neck as he whispers into the muscle he finds there.]
Is this all right?