Fenris' hands have lines, branching out at each side of his wrist, all stopping at one fingernail. It's more an irritation than true pain. He'd do anything for more.

He goes very still in Astarion's hands, trying to soak everything in, feel the kiss fully, feel their hands together, see everything... he can't, but he wants it, and a little moan escapes him to mark that need.

What does he dream of?

"You," he says, making no secret of the way his eyes linger over Astarion's body. He moves closer, kissing back as daringly as he's able. The hand now making its way slowly down Astarion's body circles Astarion's clock carefully. It would almost be leisurely, if not for the feverish beating of Fenris' heart. "I want to make you moan. I want to leave you speechless."

He's not sure he can, but Astarion did ask.