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“Is that meant to look like that then?” Astarion’s hand cut through his peripheral to rest a finger on the center of his orb, alabaster skin standing out against the darkened purpled bruise.
“Like what?” Gale asked, quickly glancing downwards, tipping his chin to his chest and incredulously finding himself staring at, well, nothing really. Nothing out of the ordinary at least. Just his mark being poked quite harshly by the clawed tip of a pointed finger. “What is it?” He asked again, eyes squinting for anything he might have missed at first glance. “Is there something there?”
Astarion let out an amused huff before, quick as can be, he flicked his finger upwards, catching the tip of Gale’s nose with the back of his nail and wrenching it skyward to meet with mirthful ruby eyes.
Gale’s face settled into an unimpressed frown.
“Astarion,” He admonished, grabbing at the offending hand and yanking the vampire closer. “Must you continue with this?”
“Why of course darling, your reactions to it are just too delicious to give up so soon.” He leaned forward and nibbled teasingly at Gale’s jawline, trapping their hands between them. Pulling back rather than pushing closer when the wizard tilted his head to the side, he sent Gale a condescending cock of a brow, the corner of his mouth raising into a wry grin, “But really now, you think you’d learn after the first two.”
Gale wiped the smug look off his face with a kiss.