[ Gale felt.. perfect. He barely even had to assess it, but that Astarion's hips started to move back and forth and managed to take him as well. There was no control that he had over this but in this moment, he wanted to feel exactly like that-- to know that he was giving Astarion such indescribable pleasure; though the hisses and moans communicated quite winningly.

The affectionate name hit in the exact right way; the vampire could call him 'darling' in that tone of voice and he would die happily.

Astarion was sitting up straight which definitely allowed for his eyes to move up and down that body, the curve of it-- eyes to drink in the vampire like fine wine in the most exquisitely crafted goblet, and for him he was drinking him up with his eyes as a kaleidoscope of pleasure sheened through them. ]

I feel like if this is my last memory of this world-- it will be a very good one-- like the last glimmering star left in the sky.. [ And fuck if he did not move one hand upward, stroking against a neck and then cupping that jawline to brush his thumb lightly there, a treasure even amidst the raw hungry coupling, through it he wanted to feel like this meant something.

He could not do anything like this without it meaning something. That was his downfall, and he was rather grateful that Astarion was allowing him that illusion. ]