"Yes yes my darling," Astarion sighs, letting his fingers fall away with one final brush of his knuckles along the contours of the-once-Emet-Selch's brow, tumbling back into the comfort of resting his head against the Ascian's lap.

It lets him see Hades as much as it lets him watch the stars overhead— even if they are all false.

They're still beautiful.

"I'll only scream it out in the privacy of your own bedchambers." Coy, of course. Eyes glinting in dim light before he adds, "Or mine. Not picky."