He isn't watching the stars, at the moment. He's watching Astarion as he settles back into using his lap as a pillow, one hand resting on top of his head.

"This is hardly the place," he reminds him, though there's little bite to it. It's not a proposition he minds the sound of, but: "...and we should not linger overlong. Naught else has happened thus far, but I doubt this will last."

He makes no move to get up, even so. Whatever else may be around-- well, it will certainly come to them. Leaving is sure to be the difficult part, as opposed to simply lingering here.