[ Although he'd rather not have his ugly bruise highlighted, Astarion very much likes that Iorveth is a freak. It's gratifying, in a way, to not have to make himself lesser or more conventional to please him. Iorveth doesn't mind that he's a vampire or that he enjoys killing with both words and knives. After two centuries of having every bit of himself criticized and denigrated, the mere act of being accepted in his entirety is thrilling. The corner of his mouth twitches, the feeling of Iorveth lapping at Henrik's dried blood making him ticklish. ]
Darling, [ he scolds, schooling his features into a chiding frown — or at least attempting to. Despite his best efforts, he's still grinning a little. ]
You're supposed to say that everything tastes sweet as long as you're licking it off my ravishing body.
[ Honestly, it's like Iorveth doesn't know anything about romance. How lucky for him that he has someone to teach him. ]
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Darling, [ he scolds, schooling his features into a chiding frown — or at least attempting to. Despite his best efforts, he's still grinning a little. ]
You're supposed to say that everything tastes sweet as long as you're licking it off my ravishing body.
[ Honestly, it's like Iorveth doesn't know anything about romance. How lucky for him that he has someone to teach him. ]