[ He might strangle Astarion if he keeps talking (affectionate). Iorveth does laugh, but the sound ends with a broken stutter of breath when Astarion starts moving his fingers, stretching him for the well-anticipated inevitable. It takes a bit to adjust to, but a hitch of his hips and some extra friction from where their erections rub up against each other's stomach helps; his nerves light up, and he feels his shoulders curl inwards. ]
Good, [ he murmurs against Astarion's jaw, smiling at the fishing. ] I swear to every god, no one better come through that door right now.
[ He might actually commit murder if they had to stop because of an interruption. He hugs his arms around Astarion's shoulders a fraction tighter, stifling his unseemly half-noises by nuzzling into the perfect column of Astarion's neck, even as he bows his back and sinks his weight just a little more into the fingers teasing him.
Eventually, Astarion hits a spot that makes him see stars: Iorveth bites down on his lower lip, hard, and clenches around long fingers to keep them there for an agonizing, brain-melting moment.
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Good, [ he murmurs against Astarion's jaw, smiling at the fishing. ] I swear to every god, no one better come through that door right now.
[ He might actually commit murder if they had to stop because of an interruption. He hugs his arms around Astarion's shoulders a fraction tighter, stifling his unseemly half-noises by nuzzling into the perfect column of Astarion's neck, even as he bows his back and sinks his weight just a little more into the fingers teasing him.
Eventually, Astarion hits a spot that makes him see stars: Iorveth bites down on his lower lip, hard, and clenches around long fingers to keep them there for an agonizing, brain-melting moment.
Eloquently: ] Fuck.