[ The thread between them slackens again, and Astarion feels less like he's unwittingly tipped himself into the lap of something dangerous and hungry. And Gale is dangerous, for all that he doesn't always look the part. Astarion's lived under the thumb of a powerful wizard for the past two centuries, and he's seen Gale's command of a battlefield with barely a fraction of Cazador's power. Best to stay on his good side.
Gale looks pained, almost hollowed as he relinquishes his grip on the necklace. Astarion tells himself it's neither pity nor compassion nor genuine desire that makes him catch Gale's chin in his hand, kissing him softly before stepping back, away from the riverbank. It's just subduing a mark. The little tug of want he feels can't be real. ]
You're good at this part, aren't you? The waiting.
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Gale looks pained, almost hollowed as he relinquishes his grip on the necklace. Astarion tells himself it's neither pity nor compassion nor genuine desire that makes him catch Gale's chin in his hand, kissing him softly before stepping back, away from the riverbank. It's just subduing a mark. The little tug of want he feels can't be real. ]
You're good at this part, aren't you? The waiting.