[What a tease. That little nip of warmth at his own earlobe sparks a thrill in him, running down the length of his spine. Perhaps it makes Astarion bolder—or perhaps he’s always this bold, possibly getting a very good idea of where this is going—but the vampire drifts his hand up, up, up, pressing his palm against the vee of Winter’s trousers.]
Am I? Getting colder?
[He can tease in turn, too. That said, the “hint” is perhaps all too obvious for someone as experienced as Astarion, and he turns his head, leaning in to breathe his words into the man’s ear.]
What about here?
[Does he mean his hand? His mouth, so close to the contours of Winter’s ear? Both.]
no subject
Am I? Getting colder?
[He can tease in turn, too. That said, the “hint” is perhaps all too obvious for someone as experienced as Astarion, and he turns his head, leaning in to breathe his words into the man’s ear.]
What about here?
[Does he mean his hand? His mouth, so close to the contours of Winter’s ear? Both.]