I thought we were to be mortal enemies, next time.
[ Allowing the pinch, crinkling his nose playfully once the hold is relinquished. There's still something miraculous about the fact that Astarion wants him at all, and Iorveth holds on to that feeling with pleasant contentedness as he slips one hand behind Astarion's nape and tucks that pretty face along the column of his neck.
(Outside the door: the handsome tiefling with red eyes has attempted to pick the lock of the Blackmanes' suite, to no avail. If Cazador embodied the vices of pride and wrath, Alkam is avarice and jealousy－ the spawn knows that his master will not love another spawn (he assumes, and wants to confirm) encroaching onto his territory.
The lock clatters again, standing strong, for now, against well-used tools. It's likely that the inhabitants are too far away to hear.)
Meanwhile, Iorveth kisses Astarion's hair. Treating him like the lapcat he really isn't, stuck to him like glue. ]
Though you couldn't stand me speaking sharply at you again, I think.
no subject
[ Allowing the pinch, crinkling his nose playfully once the hold is relinquished. There's still something miraculous about the fact that Astarion wants him at all, and Iorveth holds on to that feeling with pleasant contentedness as he slips one hand behind Astarion's nape and tucks that pretty face along the column of his neck.
(Outside the door: the handsome tiefling with red eyes has attempted to pick the lock of the Blackmanes' suite, to no avail. If Cazador embodied the vices of pride and wrath, Alkam is avarice and jealousy－ the spawn knows that his master will not love another spawn (he assumes, and wants to confirm) encroaching onto his territory.
The lock clatters again, standing strong, for now, against well-used tools. It's likely that the inhabitants are too far away to hear.)
Meanwhile, Iorveth kisses Astarion's hair. Treating him like the lapcat he really isn't, stuck to him like glue. ]
Though you couldn't stand me speaking sharply at you again, I think.