[ By now, Iorveth can identify Astarion even if he were deaf and blind: the weight of him, the feel of him, his temperature and his touch. All of it is so achingly familiar now that he really does think he couldn't live without it, that he'd hurt from missing it if he were without it for a prolonged amount of time. ]
The concept took some getting used to.
[ Accepting the scolding, while he tries to figure out where to put his hands. 'All over' is the correct course of action, but where to start? One slides down Astarion's back, feeling the texture of those raised scars with careful fingers; the other loops and settles at Astarion's nape, tickling the soft ends of still-damp curls. ]
No one's ever spoken to me the way you do.
[ Iorveth's had lovers, sure, but the sex was either a casual affair or a frenetic, desperate scramble. Nothing like this, nothing that took so much time and built up in bits and pieces. Painstaking and precious. Iorveth wouldn't trade Astarion for anything. ]
no subject
The concept took some getting used to.
[ Accepting the scolding, while he tries to figure out where to put his hands. 'All over' is the correct course of action, but where to start? One slides down Astarion's back, feeling the texture of those raised scars with careful fingers; the other loops and settles at Astarion's nape, tickling the soft ends of still-damp curls. ]
No one's ever spoken to me the way you do.
[ Iorveth's had lovers, sure, but the sex was either a casual affair or a frenetic, desperate scramble. Nothing like this, nothing that took so much time and built up in bits and pieces. Painstaking and precious. Iorveth wouldn't trade Astarion for anything. ]