[ Counting eggs before they hatch, etc. Astarion might come to resent Iorveth in the same way that Iorveth is so convinced that he'd resent Astarion if he'd been a kept pet, but he'll contend with that shoe if it ever drops from its potentially precarious perch on their many, many ledges. Iorveth is more than a little aware that they are both beings made up of red flags and steep slopes.
Whatever. Let Astarion destroy him, Iorveth doesn't care. He'll be happy if the thing that kills him is Astarion's teeth in his neck― better him than any human.
A morose thing to be thinking of when they're so perfectly warm and relaxed in a tub, though. Gears grind in Iorveth's brain, course-correcting to focus on all that pink-pale skin that he can be tasting and touching. ]
That was rather the point. [ Melting him, taking responsibility. Iorveth nuzzles into the hand on his cheek, then reaches to see if Astarion will be amenable to sitting on his lap. ] ―Before I take responsibility.
Does it still give you pause, to be the one receiving?
[ Asking, before Iorveth assumes. His hand runs up Astarion's thigh, enjoying the feeling of lean muscle. ]
no subject
Whatever. Let Astarion destroy him, Iorveth doesn't care. He'll be happy if the thing that kills him is Astarion's teeth in his neck― better him than any human.
A morose thing to be thinking of when they're so perfectly warm and relaxed in a tub, though. Gears grind in Iorveth's brain, course-correcting to focus on all that pink-pale skin that he can be tasting and touching. ]
That was rather the point. [ Melting him, taking responsibility. Iorveth nuzzles into the hand on his cheek, then reaches to see if Astarion will be amenable to sitting on his lap. ] ―Before I take responsibility.
Does it still give you pause, to be the one receiving?
[ Asking, before Iorveth assumes. His hand runs up Astarion's thigh, enjoying the feeling of lean muscle. ]