"Courted?" Gaius's voice is warm again, humor lurking at it's edges -- not laughing at Estinien, per se, but definitely seeing something funny in this. "Courtship is a much different thing; I have no idea how Ishgardian go about it, but it's much more complex then sliding into someone's tent in the dead of night and being asked for an educating swive. A formal dinner invitation would start courtship, Wyrmblood. Not this."

Bolder now, he moves his hand on his hip, letting the thumb press into nerves there, before he strokes a hand over Estinien's thigh.

"This is not about loving anyone. Just about--" how to put it? "letting you love what you can feel, if it so pleases you."