[ Fingers tangle in his hair, and soft pressure keeps Iorveth down on the cock currently occupying his throat. He chokes a little again, breathes through his nose, and relaxes― it's hard to laugh around a hard length rammed in his mouth, but he almost manages.
"Maybe you should", he can't say. Instead, he fumbles his hand up to guide Astarion's grip from his head to his neck, easing Astarion's fingers to the leaves tattooed on his tan skin. He keeps them there as he bobs up, then down, demonstrating to Astarion how his throat expands whenever he dips, how it trembles when he hums, content, around Astarion's cock. Eager to take his shape.
It's almost too much, which is, by Iorveth's standards, just enough. He opens his eye with some effort, his focus a little misty, and―
―fuck, Astarion is smiling. Iorveth could burn the world for that smile, and then some. He redoubles his efforts, holding his face down between Astarion's legs to swallow greedily around the heat in his mouth, glad that it's currently very occupied; it's likely that he would've said something either incredibly filthy or incredibly embarrassing if it wasn't. ]
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"Maybe you should", he can't say. Instead, he fumbles his hand up to guide Astarion's grip from his head to his neck, easing Astarion's fingers to the leaves tattooed on his tan skin. He keeps them there as he bobs up, then down, demonstrating to Astarion how his throat expands whenever he dips, how it trembles when he hums, content, around Astarion's cock. Eager to take his shape.
It's almost too much, which is, by Iorveth's standards, just enough. He opens his eye with some effort, his focus a little misty, and―
―fuck, Astarion is smiling. Iorveth could burn the world for that smile, and then some. He redoubles his efforts, holding his face down between Astarion's legs to swallow greedily around the heat in his mouth, glad that it's currently very occupied; it's likely that he would've said something either incredibly filthy or incredibly embarrassing if it wasn't. ]