[ Astarion enjoys the way Iorveth gets him ready for bed, loving in the most minute of ways. He kicks his shoes off as Iorveth fusses with his collar, a little sorry for the pin to be taken off but not wanting to be stabbed if he were to roll over on it in his trance.
no subject
He lifts an eyebrow, expression screaming duh. ]
Yes, that's rather the point, isn't it?
[ He sures hopes he isn't an idle tryst. ]