[ Even if they both remain somewhat delusional about each other, the one thing Iorveth will always uphold is Astarion's safety. He'd never been one for forcing sex anyway, finding the whole practice of asserting intimacy to be repulsive at best; it's why he'd never wanted contact with Astarion before he was sure that it wasn't performative or false.

So. He still doesn't take being able to settle on top of Astarion for granted, in the same way that he doesn't take Astarion's willingness to expose his back to him for granted. Elbows on either side of that pretty, now slightly-less flushed face to brace and distribute his weight, Iorveth drapes himself on top of the now-familiar shape of Astarion's body and laughs. ]

Once we find a way to make me immortal.

[ They've made it sound easy, but Iorveth has no earthly idea how to make it happen. Oh well. Just another thing for him to pour his unhinged energy into. He presses his mouth against Astarion's neck, biting a soft, very temporary mark into pale skin. ]

I thought I could handle the thought of you taking another lover after me. Now, I'm not so sure.