[It was utterly unfair that someone could possibly make a kiss such a warm, tender thing, how someone could be so achingly gentle. Astarion had not known it was physically possible, and even now it had his chest clenching tightly to realize that it was him being treated with such care and tenderness.
This absurd wizard with his sad brown eyes. How dare he. Yes, how dare Gale, even if this was exactly what Astarion had asked for. A kiss. He'd played himself.
But so be it. His lips parted, and there was a tentative brush of his own tongue along Gale's -- none of the usual polish and finesse and sweet seduction. No it was uncertain but wanting, inviting that continued gentleness, trying to understand how to answer it, though it was a foreign language on his tongue.]
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This absurd wizard with his sad brown eyes. How dare he. Yes, how dare Gale, even if this was exactly what Astarion had asked for. A kiss. He'd played himself.
But so be it. His lips parted, and there was a tentative brush of his own tongue along Gale's -- none of the usual polish and finesse and sweet seduction. No it was uncertain but wanting, inviting that continued gentleness, trying to understand how to answer it, though it was a foreign language on his tongue.]