Every lover's kiss is a little different. The way Ashton touches him is marked by playful bravado, hiding something a lot more fragile beneath it. Bel is softer, with more natural finesse, and it feels a little like they're sinking into one another. It's very nice, and Barcus shivers subtly, happily, as they drift apart.

And then laughs, called out for sneaking in a bite. "I felt I was given tacit approval for at least one little nibble."

He sits back on the top of his stool, looking into the drow's eyes with genuine warmth. "Let's get out of here, findal. More kissing when we get home, and we can go from there. There's enough room for two in my bed."