[ Iorveth still doesn't Get It― does Astarion think he's unhappy? That he's just blithely going through the motions? Does he think that Iorveth is just putting up with this, and not getting anything out of it?― but the statement about choosing to do something of his own free will smooths over Iorveth's jagged edges.
More drink disappears down Iorveth's throat, and pools in his stomach. His tan skin is slightly more flushed, warmed by alcohol, which makes the temperature difference between himself and his partner more enticing; whoever says that embracing an undead is uncomfortable clearly has no idea what they're talking about. ]
There are bathhouses. [ Like the one they went to all those tendays ago, when they'd barely tolerated each other in states of undress. Remembering it makes Iorveth laugh. ] But all I require is you.
[ Stupid, sweet fool. He kisses Astarion again, wine lingering on his tongue. ] ...I'll have to take you to the elven baths in the north. You might enjoy them.
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More drink disappears down Iorveth's throat, and pools in his stomach. His tan skin is slightly more flushed, warmed by alcohol, which makes the temperature difference between himself and his partner more enticing; whoever says that embracing an undead is uncomfortable clearly has no idea what they're talking about. ]
There are bathhouses. [ Like the one they went to all those tendays ago, when they'd barely tolerated each other in states of undress. Remembering it makes Iorveth laugh. ] But all I require is you.
[ Stupid, sweet fool. He kisses Astarion again, wine lingering on his tongue. ] ...I'll have to take you to the elven baths in the north. You might enjoy them.