[PRETTY FUCKING OVERWHELMING, IT SEEMS, especially to a set of lungs that only know smoke secondhand. He's a warrior! Keeping your lungs as healthy as possible is a pretty big part of that! He's never smoked, leave him alone. He at least has presence of mind to set the damn thing down before he coughs too loudly and for far too long, his throat burning and his lungs very loudly protesting, fucking hell . . .]
Shut it.
[Don't start. Has Astarion started? Has he even given a hint he's about to start? No, but at the same time, how could he not? Fenris grabs for his port, ignoring all those pretty thoughts he'd had about savoring it in favor of doing literally anything to cool off his throat, Maker's breath.]
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Shut it.
[Don't start. Has Astarion started? Has he even given a hint he's about to start? No, but at the same time, how could he not? Fenris grabs for his port, ignoring all those pretty thoughts he'd had about savoring it in favor of doing literally anything to cool off his throat, Maker's breath.]