[ Astarion sets the fork down, and Iorveth takes the opportunity to take that now-empty hand and hold it in his own, winding fingers and bring them to his lips. ]
I wouldn't speak so soon. Yes, I wouldn't be pleased with you if you did something to intentionally insult me―
[ Which may or may not happen, but Iorveth's threshold of tolerance for Astarion's shenanigans has gotten higher and higher; he can, to some extent, forgive smaller offenses.
That said, the warmth in his expression recedes for a fraction of a second, subsumed momentarily by sharp, hawklike focus. ]
―But I'd hardly be angry with you, if anyone makes the fool move of being lecherous with you as a result of you being friendly.
[ He imagines it: someone putting their arms around Astarion's waist, or trying to put their mouth on him. It makes something dark and ugly stir in the pit of his stomach, and it shows in that knife-sharp glint in his eye again. ]
no subject
I wouldn't speak so soon. Yes, I wouldn't be pleased with you if you did something to intentionally insult me―
[ Which may or may not happen, but Iorveth's threshold of tolerance for Astarion's shenanigans has gotten higher and higher; he can, to some extent, forgive smaller offenses.
That said, the warmth in his expression recedes for a fraction of a second, subsumed momentarily by sharp, hawklike focus. ]
―But I'd hardly be angry with you, if anyone makes the fool move of being lecherous with you as a result of you being friendly.
[ He imagines it: someone putting their arms around Astarion's waist, or trying to put their mouth on him. It makes something dark and ugly stir in the pit of his stomach, and it shows in that knife-sharp glint in his eye again. ]