Barcus is still aching with need, himself, but for the moment he pushes it aside in favor of basking in the feeling of being held. The heat of real affection. He strokes across Bel's chest slowly, fingertips eventually coming to rest on the amulet he gave him. It was meant with platonic warmth, a hope that they might not lose track of one another should they return to Faerun. Now, though, it feels like it means a bit more.

He lingers for a moment, toying with the chain, then squirms closer to deliver a nip to his neck. The liquor has worn off; that was pure playful affection.

"Mmm. Darling, now, is it? I could get to like that. Hold me tight, Bel. I want to feel all of you against my body."