[ From under the covers: a groan, very undignified, very annoyed. Turns out that sex plus bloodlessness is a bad combination to wake up to, and the pounding in Iorveth's skull makes him scowl as much as the feeling of Astarion shifting away from him does. Dragging himself semi-upright, bedhead and lack of eyepatch making him look like some disheveled hellbeast, he rasps: ]
He was supposed to peel me from you.
[ At Astarion, regarding Gale. Sullen. Almost immature, the way he drapes his naked arms around Astarion's middle and starts mouthing at his bare shoulders－ his turn for the animal comparisons now, like a big dog sitting stubbornly on his favorite person.
Gale, looking over his shoulder to find that the situation has gone from "embarrassing" to "very embarrassing", turns a shade of interesting beet-purple and clears his throat.
"Eight, sharp", Gale emphasizes, and Iorveth sighs. ]
no subject
He was supposed to peel me from you.
[ At Astarion, regarding Gale. Sullen. Almost immature, the way he drapes his naked arms around Astarion's middle and starts mouthing at his bare shoulders－ his turn for the animal comparisons now, like a big dog sitting stubbornly on his favorite person.
Gale, looking over his shoulder to find that the situation has gone from "embarrassing" to "very embarrassing", turns a shade of interesting beet-purple and clears his throat.
"Eight, sharp", Gale emphasizes, and Iorveth sighs. ]
So says mother. [ "I am not your mother!" ]