[ Pinpick thrills run up Iorveth's spine at the feeling of questing fingers: not pleasurable, per se, but interesting. He finds a pillow to stuff under the small of his back (since they're going for care and comfort), hips angled upwards as he relaxes into the touch. One hand rests on his own stomach, then drifts down to his now-erect cock to give it languid attention. A bit of a show for Astarion, if he's into that sort of thing.
A huff through his nose, warm and deep; for a moment, he forgets how to speak, distracted by everything happening to his lower half. He makes a pleased sound of half-acknowledgment, 'hm?', then remembers to use his words. ]
I have perfected the art.
[ It's economical, being able to tell someone to fuck off just by looking at them. Iorveth has it down to a science by now, though it's impossible to attempt the look here, even just to demonstrate.
Instead: a content nuzzle into purple-burgundy bedsheets, damp bangs sticking to his jaw. Turned on, skin hot, eye half-lidded. He swallows, and his tattoo ripples along his throat. ]
―Though you're stiff competition.
[ Use of the word 'stiff' intentional. That said, Astarion is incredibly cute when he pouts. ]
no subject
A huff through his nose, warm and deep; for a moment, he forgets how to speak, distracted by everything happening to his lower half. He makes a pleased sound of half-acknowledgment, 'hm?', then remembers to use his words. ]
I have perfected the art.
[ It's economical, being able to tell someone to fuck off just by looking at them. Iorveth has it down to a science by now, though it's impossible to attempt the look here, even just to demonstrate.
Instead: a content nuzzle into purple-burgundy bedsheets, damp bangs sticking to his jaw. Turned on, skin hot, eye half-lidded. He swallows, and his tattoo ripples along his throat. ]
―Though you're stiff competition.
[ Use of the word 'stiff' intentional. That said, Astarion is incredibly cute when he pouts. ]