[ The worst (and best?) part is that Iorveth really does believe the embarrassing schmoop that comes out of his mouth. Even more so, when Astarion has the absolute gall (positive) to come without Iorveth needing to pay attention to his erection; cute aggression― or something close to it― clogs the back of Iorveth's throat, prompting a soft, choked sound as he holds Astarion's face and kisses the tail end of that hells out of his mouth.
It's really not healthy to like someone this much. Some part of the delirium is owed to sex brain, but the greater majority is the ear-ringing pleasure of being trusted, of being chosen, of being given permission. Astarion tightens, trembles, and lets himself fall over the edge; that's more exciting than anything else.
Enough that it doesn't take much for Iorveth to follow, hips stuttering and grip tightening when it wanders back, desperately, to Astarion's waist. He has enough presence of mind not to come inside Astarion, though: his instinct is to pull out before he reaches his peak, clumsily spilling his spend on his own cock and the curve of Astarion's rear with a groan and a half-bitten Astarion.
Maybe he'll get yelled at for being too careful. Later. Iorveth huffs, chest heaving, and rests his forehead against Astarion's collarbone. Drinking in his scent, bathing in all that skin. ]
no subject
It's really not healthy to like someone this much. Some part of the delirium is owed to sex brain, but the greater majority is the ear-ringing pleasure of being trusted, of being chosen, of being given permission. Astarion tightens, trembles, and lets himself fall over the edge; that's more exciting than anything else.
Enough that it doesn't take much for Iorveth to follow, hips stuttering and grip tightening when it wanders back, desperately, to Astarion's waist. He has enough presence of mind not to come inside Astarion, though: his instinct is to pull out before he reaches his peak, clumsily spilling his spend on his own cock and the curve of Astarion's rear with a groan and a half-bitten Astarion.
Maybe he'll get yelled at for being too careful. Later. Iorveth huffs, chest heaving, and rests his forehead against Astarion's collarbone. Drinking in his scent, bathing in all that skin. ]