[As Astarion kisses his fingertips, Gale presses his lips to the side of his face, his jawline, then down his pale neck; the arm around Astarion's back wraps just a little tighter, giving him purchase as his partner works to loosen him. Though the wizard holds in his immediate reaction out of habit rather than purpose, he can't stifle the next quiet moan that pushes out of him as he rocks gently against Astarion.
Another moan, louder than the last, and Gale buries his head momentarily in Astarion's shoulder, sweat trailing down his temples. He murmurs Astarion's name to the muscle there, as though it would care to hear it.]
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Another moan, louder than the last, and Gale buries his head momentarily in Astarion's shoulder, sweat trailing down his temples. He murmurs Astarion's name to the muscle there, as though it would care to hear it.]