Hawke looked side-eyed at Anders. "Can you believe this guy?" he said, gesturing to Zevran. "A kiss as repayment. As if I don't have a jealous mage partner here watching me -- who, by the way, could zap me with a lightning bolt if I tried anything."

Anders raised his eyebrow suggestively. "Jealous? Me?" He turned and looked back at the elf, with his exquisite skin and voice so smooth and sweet and body taut and lithe.

He looked back and forth between Hawke and Zevran and then stepped forward, placing his hand gently on the back of the elf's head. Hair so soft, and his scent entirely different. "For you," he said, making eye contact with Zevran, who was smiling lewdly at him, "I'll make an exception." He leaned forward and Zevran matched his movements, their lips meeting in the space formerly occupied by Hawke's disbelieving stare.