[ The roll of Iorveth's hips is a little obscene, exciting Astarion's own erection caught between their bodies so much that he very nearly says 'yes' to Iorveth's question without further thought (or any thought at all). The gears in his head turn, though, and he forces himself to sit up, thighs bracketing Iorveth's hips. He has more control this way, and if there's anything he needs right now, it's control. ]
Like this.
[ Then another thought passes through his mind, and he reaches for Iorveth, manhandling him yet again to pull him up alongside him so that their chests are flush. He needs control, yes, but he wants easy access to every part of Iorveth. ]
Like this, [ he corrects, and it's not particularly negotiable. Iorveth can decide the position when he's the one trying to have a corrective experience after centuries of trauma. ] —For now. [ An addendum. He meant what he'd said, that he wanted to try it all, but— he needs to ease into it. For now, he needs an escape route should it all become too much.
He stabilizes himself with a hand on Iorveth's broad shoulder, trying not to look visibly nervous as he lifts up and guides himself onto Iorveth's cock. It shows anyway in the terribly slow way he sinks down, making the familiar burn that comes with the initial penetration that much worse by prolonging it; it must be agonizing for Iorveth, he recognizes distantly, but every millimeter feels more overwhelming than the last, and he can't make himself move faster. Once he's fully seated, the stretch of Iorveth inside him making his head swim, he glances up with the intention to say something romantic and titillating. ]
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Like this.
[ Then another thought passes through his mind, and he reaches for Iorveth, manhandling him yet again to pull him up alongside him so that their chests are flush. He needs control, yes, but he wants easy access to every part of Iorveth. ]
Like this, [ he corrects, and it's not particularly negotiable. Iorveth can decide the position when he's the one trying to have a corrective experience after centuries of trauma. ] —For now. [ An addendum. He meant what he'd said, that he wanted to try it all, but— he needs to ease into it. For now, he needs an escape route should it all become too much.
He stabilizes himself with a hand on Iorveth's broad shoulder, trying not to look visibly nervous as he lifts up and guides himself onto Iorveth's cock. It shows anyway in the terribly slow way he sinks down, making the familiar burn that comes with the initial penetration that much worse by prolonging it; it must be agonizing for Iorveth, he recognizes distantly, but every millimeter feels more overwhelming than the last, and he can't make himself move faster. Once he's fully seated, the stretch of Iorveth inside him making his head swim, he glances up with the intention to say something romantic and titillating. ]
Fuck, [ he says instead, eloquently. ]