[Both characters are left standing on the screen, bobbing up and down idly as they wait for the men who may never return since Astarion has lost any interest in it, even if he could just pick up his controller and win now. He loves to win, but he has discovered something he loves more: the feel of Taryon's laughter rumbling through his throat as his mouth is pressed against it.
Taryon tries to move out from under him, and with a wicked chortle he grabs him by the opposite shoulder and pins it down.]
And where do you think you're going? To pick up your controller? No you don't...!
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Taryon tries to move out from under him, and with a wicked chortle he grabs him by the opposite shoulder and pins it down.]
And where do you think you're going? To pick up your controller? No you don't...!