[Gale's heart is thundering in his chest; there's some distant awareness of the logistics of what's to come, the usual necessities, but they seem wildly unimportant in this particular moment, Godfrey beneath him and beautifully tousled, arousal brushing against his own as Gale carefully settles his ass against Godfrey's thighs, hips straddled. Godfrey moves closer and buries his face against his chest, Gale threading his fingers into his hair as he looks down fondly, a laugh that is all warmth bubbling forth— that bit of tenderness among raw need only serving to further stoke desire.

It goes right to his cock, as does the sword-calloused palm moving along the curve of his spine, and Gale cups the side of his lover's face in hand even as aches for more.]

I love you.

[His thumb traces the curve of Godfrey's lower lip the moment it falls away from his chest, and he tips the paladin's face upwards so that he can meet his gaze, his own now dark with hunger, with need.]

Care to show me what you had in mind, my heart? I confess, I'm already finding it very difficult to be patient.

[How can he be, with such a feast before him?]