[He chuckles in response to the accusation, his breath rolling against the inside of Astarion's thigh; he is greedy, in his own way, with a taste for the finer things in life, though he has been known to enjoy its simplest pleasures, as well. Somehow, this feels like it may yet be a bit of both, though it seems a great risk to allow himself to get too much in his own head about it, knowing what he does about his tendency to overthink.
This is supposed to be fun, uncomplicated. They're meant to enjoy it for what it is, and now that he's well past any lingering nerves, he fully intends to do exactly that.
Touch, of course, is not the only way they're connected. Astarion's tadpole causes his own to stir, and he feels a sudden spike of surprise, disbelief even as Astarion reaches out to brush fingers against his hair, the feeling itself at odds with his words. It is so brief, so seamless, that at first Gale isn't certain where it had come from, except for the fact that he knows it wasn't from him.
He pauses just before he'd been about to relieve the other man of his smallclothes, resting his weight against one arm on the floor as he looks up the long, lean line of Astarion's body, gently raising a brow.]
Much appreciated. [His smile remains, even as he tries to parse that fleeting feeling.] Is this— alright?
[They are truly about to be at the point of no return, and there's a nagging at the back of his mind that pushes him to ask, to make sure.]
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This is supposed to be fun, uncomplicated. They're meant to enjoy it for what it is, and now that he's well past any lingering nerves, he fully intends to do exactly that.
Touch, of course, is not the only way they're connected. Astarion's tadpole causes his own to stir, and he feels a sudden spike of surprise, disbelief even as Astarion reaches out to brush fingers against his hair, the feeling itself at odds with his words. It is so brief, so seamless, that at first Gale isn't certain where it had come from, except for the fact that he knows it wasn't from him.
He pauses just before he'd been about to relieve the other man of his smallclothes, resting his weight against one arm on the floor as he looks up the long, lean line of Astarion's body, gently raising a brow.]
Much appreciated. [His smile remains, even as he tries to parse that fleeting feeling.] Is this— alright?
[They are truly about to be at the point of no return, and there's a nagging at the back of his mind that pushes him to ask, to make sure.]