[ Oh, so they're really doing this. Iorveth watches Astarion appraise him, his mouth pulled into that haughty little frown, and instead of the usual indignance that might bubble up from the pit of his gut, he feels...
...excited? Enamored? He tries to put his finger on what makes it so different, Astarion telling him to stay versus a human telling him not to move, and it really boils down to the assumption that Astarion wants him. If Iorveth senses, in any way, that Astarion is looking through him instead of at him, the light would snap from green to red, but so far－
－still fine. Still lizard brain-hot. So he keeps his position, hands pressed to the pillow of his own accord, shifting just slightly when Astarion draws another cut in his skin and cleans it with his mouth. ]
Are all magistrates as brazen as you, or are you the exception?
[ A little breathless, but still playing the part. ] Fuck.
no subject
...excited? Enamored? He tries to put his finger on what makes it so different, Astarion telling him to stay versus a human telling him not to move, and it really boils down to the assumption that Astarion wants him. If Iorveth senses, in any way, that Astarion is looking through him instead of at him, the light would snap from green to red, but so far－
－still fine. Still lizard brain-hot. So he keeps his position, hands pressed to the pillow of his own accord, shifting just slightly when Astarion draws another cut in his skin and cleans it with his mouth. ]
Are all magistrates as brazen as you, or are you the exception?
[ A little breathless, but still playing the part. ] Fuck.