[Gale can't help it, Astarion: there's fucking, and then there's making love, and Gale leans almost entirely toward the latter, especially when his heart is thundering away and he's in the arms of the man he loves so, so dearly. He finally pulls his head from Astarion's shoulder - his hair hangs in his face, his earring tangled in it, sweat racing down his skin in shimmering trails.]
Take me. I-
[He turns his neck to press his forehead to Astarion's, swallowing as his tone dips, heavy and graveled with lust.]
no subject
Take me. I-
[He turns his neck to press his forehead to Astarion's, swallowing as his tone dips, heavy and graveled with lust.]
I want you. I need you.