[ This feels awful, but not in the way he might have expected. It feels awful to hear Iorveth beg him to stay, and Astarion wishes he'd held him down and rocked into him until he couldn't possibly fathom why he'd ever thought himself undesirable. Until neither of them can even remember all of the people who've mistreated them.
Time for that later, he tells himself, as he rests his clean hand hesitantly, awkwardly, between Iorveth's shoulder blades. He's warm, a little damp with sweat, wonderful. Astarion is no good at soothing—and he's never wanted to be before now—but he's determined to try for Iorveth, lightly stroking his back as one would gentle a frazzled animal. ]
Oh, don't be dramatic, love. [ Said with the utmost affection (and the utmost hypocriticalness). ] You couldn't possibly rid yourself of me.
[ He cranes his neck to allow Iorveth access, flashing his centuries-old bite mark. Their combined neuroses on display, he adds, ] I hold onto what's mine.
no subject
Time for that later, he tells himself, as he rests his clean hand hesitantly, awkwardly, between Iorveth's shoulder blades. He's warm, a little damp with sweat, wonderful. Astarion is no good at soothing—and he's never wanted to be before now—but he's determined to try for Iorveth, lightly stroking his back as one would gentle a frazzled animal. ]
Oh, don't be dramatic, love. [ Said with the utmost affection (and the utmost hypocriticalness). ] You couldn't possibly rid yourself of me.
[ He cranes his neck to allow Iorveth access, flashing his centuries-old bite mark. Their combined neuroses on display, he adds, ] I hold onto what's mine.