[ Astarion kicks him, which makes Iorveth laugh again: a half-choked, thrilled little huff. His own body feels like one big exposed nerve, with every new sensation like small fireworks under his skin.
Astarion is really asking for it. He shifts, sweat trailing from temple to jaw, matting the longer strands of hair framing his face against his broken skin. ]
In that case, [ he murmurs, ] hold on.
[ Bracing his weight on his elbows, his knees, Iorveth arches his back and draws out― a smooth slide followed by an inwards surge, giving Astarion the entire length of him in one roll of his hips. He only gives Astarion a second to adjust to that feeling before he starts moving in earnest, forcing Astarion's knees apart even more to drive harder into him, faster.
It feels insane. Iorveth's thought process boils down to vague shapes of wants and needs, with Astarion being the only term he can conjure coherently. His love, his most important person. He pants it, a fractured, hoarse whistle of breath in the back of his throat as he tries to fuck Astarion into the softly-squeaking mattress. ]
no subject
Astarion is really asking for it. He shifts, sweat trailing from temple to jaw, matting the longer strands of hair framing his face against his broken skin. ]
In that case, [ he murmurs, ] hold on.
[ Bracing his weight on his elbows, his knees, Iorveth arches his back and draws out― a smooth slide followed by an inwards surge, giving Astarion the entire length of him in one roll of his hips. He only gives Astarion a second to adjust to that feeling before he starts moving in earnest, forcing Astarion's knees apart even more to drive harder into him, faster.
It feels insane. Iorveth's thought process boils down to vague shapes of wants and needs, with Astarion being the only term he can conjure coherently. His love, his most important person. He pants it, a fractured, hoarse whistle of breath in the back of his throat as he tries to fuck Astarion into the softly-squeaking mattress. ]