Zevran makes no attempt to stop Anders' hand- he enjoys a good stroke through his leathers as much as any other Antivan, all the more so if it is from someone he considers someting of a friend. He hadn't been entirely certain how his overtures might be taken- but it seems like all is as it ought to be. Mutual desire, genuine attraction.

"Of course." He meant it, earlier, that Anders needs this. That he needs the contact, the grounding- needs to feel whole and human for a short while. There's no teasing- no games. Just the slow slide of his hand up to cradle Anders' cheek in his hand and let him feel that for a moment- it is also as good a way as any to get an idea of how much stubble he'll be wrangling later. But it is for Anders as well.