[ Astarion has never been a healer, has always brought death with his hands rather than any sort of kindness. With the blight beneath his fingers, stark against Gale's skin, he wishes otherwise-- wishes he could pull it out and make him whole again. Impossible things.
He's still not quite steady, pleasure and release suffusing his limbs. This should all be second nature to Astarion, but as he said before, Gale has somehow made it new. He settles more firmly in Gale's lap, nosing into his hair and breathing him in as he slides his palms down his chest and stomach, finding the fastenings of Gale's robes at his waist between them. ]
Shall I touch you? [ His voice still thick, dipping beneath parted fabric to cup Gale's cock through his pants. Another act he knows like breathing, with a thousand practiced lines to accompany it, but Astarion doesn't want to feed Gale his leftovers. He presses a kiss beneath his ear, teeth grazing skin. ] I would very much like to, for what it's worth. Because it's you.
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He's still not quite steady, pleasure and release suffusing his limbs. This should all be second nature to Astarion, but as he said before, Gale has somehow made it new. He settles more firmly in Gale's lap, nosing into his hair and breathing him in as he slides his palms down his chest and stomach, finding the fastenings of Gale's robes at his waist between them. ]
Shall I touch you? [ His voice still thick, dipping beneath parted fabric to cup Gale's cock through his pants. Another act he knows like breathing, with a thousand practiced lines to accompany it, but Astarion doesn't want to feed Gale his leftovers. He presses a kiss beneath his ear, teeth grazing skin. ] I would very much like to, for what it's worth. Because it's you.