[ Emboldened, his hands slide further up Iorveth's back, seeking out spots of tightness and pressing in against them, rubbing in circles to ease them. It's not much, but it's something; what Astarion would really like is to get Iorveth down on his stomach while he digs his thumbs into those muscle knots. And then, you know, does some other, much more inappropriate stuff to him, probably. ]
Don't, [ comes out automatically, the sentiment bypassing his brain entirely. It's only a moment later that he has the sense to feel embarrassed about it. ]
I, ah. [ He stumbles over his words before landing on, ] I don't trance particularly well without you near.
[ Trancing has historically been an unpleasant to middling-at-best experience. Restless, most of the time. Frightening, occasionally. It's only once he started sharing a bed with Iorveth that he ever found any peace in it. ]
no subject
Don't, [ comes out automatically, the sentiment bypassing his brain entirely. It's only a moment later that he has the sense to feel embarrassed about it. ]
I, ah. [ He stumbles over his words before landing on, ] I don't trance particularly well without you near.
[ Trancing has historically been an unpleasant to middling-at-best experience. Restless, most of the time. Frightening, occasionally. It's only once he started sharing a bed with Iorveth that he ever found any peace in it. ]