No, no, you looked... [He is at a loss for words. "Fetching" would make Astarion feel better, but it's not exactly true.] You looked fine. I got to imagine how you'd look with a beard, and frankly, a big bushy one is pretty strange on you. Don't try it.

[Waving a hand dismissively, he notices that Astarion is too busy skulking to wipe the rest of his face. This isn't a few suds here and there, but a large globule.]

You still have some. There. [He scoots around the round tub. Never mind that underneath the pale foam, Astarion is nearly entirely naked. When he stops, there is an empty foot between them.] Um.

[He holds out a hand to point it out, and his fingers freeze midway. Just a few more inches, and he'll be touching his skin. It will be fine. It's acceptable. Astarion isn't averse to touch.

Without changing his wide-eyed, neutral expression, Taryon wipes his hand along Astarion's chin one, twice, and the soap is cleaned off.]