essea: (32.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote in [personal profile] nibbling 2024-08-08 10:22 pm (UTC)

[ He doesn't know. It's a little shattering to hear, but Iorveth understands― perhaps better than he'd like. Some extinctions happen inside of people; there are ways to kill something without arrows and swords.

A softer touch, Iorveth reminds himself. Astarion needs easing, whereas Iorveth is so used to taking his prisoners by the neck and plunging their heads in cold water. Just another way in which Astarion is different. Unique. His mind dances around the word special, as juvenile as it is.

Breathing through his nose, softly, at the light friction, he concedes.
]

Sit up, then. My limbs are everywhere. [ Lightly bullying the both of them into an upright position, with Astarion straddling his thighs. The shirt is an easy conquest, but it takes more negotiation to tug Astarion's pants down and peel them off his legs; somewhere along the way, Iorveth ends up with Astarion gently kneeing his still-hard cock.

Ow. His brows furrow, but they smooth a moment later at how ridiculous it all is, and how much he actually fucking likes Astarion enough that he can laugh about getting kneed in the crotch. Because he does.
] I've been known to be more graceful.

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