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[Astarion's pale arms wind around Taryon again, one around his neck, the other his waist to put his hand on his lower back, the same as before. He holds him close, growing more fervent for the proximity of the man he holds great affection for. Who holds affection for him in return. He wishes this could go on for hours or days or years, while simultaneously craving both their orgasms. He wants to hear how he sounds as he loses himself, see his face, feel how his body trembles.

Astarion's breath matches the tempo of Taryon's, the puffs of air glancing over his sweaty cheek and playing in messy strands of hair. He turns his head to nuzzle against his skin, a particularly long moan escaping him as his whole body undulates under Taryon's weight.]

Gods, you feel so good just against my leg... I can't wait to feel you in my mouth... Or deep inside me...