[ Ugh, he can't help it — he has no willpower. Astarion's arms wind around Iorveth's middle, pulling him in until their bodies are flush and he can feel Iorveth's body heat. Much better. It had been cold being the object of Iorveth's displeasure. Iorveth has many virtues besides groveling for Astarion's affection, but he can't deny that it feels good to have Iorveth's warmth shine on him. ]
As I'm yours, [ he admits before touching his lips to Iorveth's, light and sweet.
It's a sentiment typically followed by some sort of caveat ('for tonight', usually, when used on a victim that he didn't expect to see tomorrow), but not now. Belonging to Cazador had made him averse to belonging to anyone at all in any way, and it does still feel a bit terrifying, but there's no point in denying what is irrevocably true. Astarion made him bleed, but it's Iorveth who really holds a knife to his neck. ]
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As I'm yours, [ he admits before touching his lips to Iorveth's, light and sweet.
It's a sentiment typically followed by some sort of caveat ('for tonight', usually, when used on a victim that he didn't expect to see tomorrow), but not now. Belonging to Cazador had made him averse to belonging to anyone at all in any way, and it does still feel a bit terrifying, but there's no point in denying what is irrevocably true. Astarion made him bleed, but it's Iorveth who really holds a knife to his neck. ]