[ Gamlen isn't pleasant, but Fenris' only basis for comparison about appropriate family behavior is Hawke's somewhat dysfunctional family amd Varania. And while his uncle might be a churlish bore, at least he never tried to capture him and send him off to slavery at a magister's heels. That puts him vastly above Fenris' backstabbing bitch of a sister.

Wisely, perhaps, he chooses to keep that opinion to himself.

Fenris stops when Hawke stops, glancing up beneath the fall of hair to look questioningly at him. That faint confusion fades as Hawke brushes his hair out of his face; even as he feels that hand on his face, Fenris tips his head back to look at him better. It isn't necessary to be told. He knows how he feels. Though he won't deny that it's nice to hear.

Sliding his hand around the back of Hawke's neck, Fenris returns the kiss, easy and slow. He allows the momentary interruption, but as soon as Hawke stops talking, he moves in for another, longer, somewhat deeper kiss. There's a shimmer of amusement in his eyes by the time he draws back. ]

I begin to wonder if you took my words as a challenge to outdo yourself. [ One hand, bare of the gauntlets, drifts lightly along Hawke's face, through the beard and over his cheek. ] You don't need to visit such strange places, Garrett.