[ Iorveth tangles their fingers, using that point of contact for balance as he moves to sit on the bed. After a moment of consideration, he climbs on top of Astarion, briefly pinning him to the mattress by that held hand.

The moment doesn't last; Iorveth has caught on to the fact that Astarion doesn't enjoy having someone bear down on him that way, and so he rolls off and onto his side after a careful but quick study of that perfect (but still-bruised) face. Sullen that Astarion still defaulted to his old habits of offering himself, but more annoyed that he put Astarion in a position where he'd have to offer. ]

Well. We do have a room next to the brothel. [ Thankfully, the walls aren't thin enough that he can hear what might be happening a few doors down, but there is the occasional thump or two. ] If he frequents this place, we might be able to catch him with his prick out.

[ It would be such a disgraceful way to die. Perfect. ]