[ Ah. It all clicks into place. Astarion had been so concerned with his own hang-ups that he hadn't thought to consider Iorveth's at all, but now he does, the gears in his head visibly turning for a long moment before he swings a leg over to crawl on top of Iorveth, anything but slow and careful. His lukewarm hands find the sides of Iorveth's head, holding him there. ]

Ugh. Senseless half-wits, to throw you away.

[ But he's selfishly glad they did, if it led Iorveth here. An awful, self-absorbed thing to think, but he thinks it regardless. ]

You're the first thing I've ever had for my own, you know.

[ Something that's all his, something cherished. Iorveth probably thinks that people can't—or perhaps shouldn't—belong to anyone but themselves, but Astarion knows that isn't true. ]

I intend to keep you.