( It's a bold offer. Urianger stalls for a moment — he isn't sure whether he's supposed to be the kind of person who would allow another to sip from his life's blood — but that thought is swiftly followed by the realisation that there isn't really anyone he's "supposed" to be any more. Himeka freed him of that on the Moon, and Urianger has been taking steps to reclaim himself ever since. If he's curious and Astarion is of a mind to feed, why not grasp such an opportunity with both hands? )

Aye, some modicum of privacy would be much appreciated.

( He replies, placing his hand into Astarion's cool palm as his ears heat from that sultry look. Urianger still manages to roll his eyes the way he used to when Thancred practiced pick-up lines — but the flush remains, and his blood beats warm as Astarion leads them to a quiet corner. )

Gentleman as thou art, I trust thy stomach shalt not overrule thy mind when teeth meet flesh?

( Urianger raises an eyebrow as they settle comfortably, then lets his hand slip from Astarion's to press the tip of his index finger into the centre of the vampire's chest. The touch is light but pointed, his expression caught somewhere between curious and amused. )

Regenerative as my healing abilities may be, good manners are most appreciated.