[ Two weird elves, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Iorveth figures that things will be different after they (if they) defeat the Brain, and he also figures that Astarion won't be too happy when (if) they have to relinquish the comforts of urban life for the unglamorous runaway lifestyle once more. No more beds, no more pretty clothes to buy in surplus.
(No more sleeping in until the sky is high, because Astarion would burn to ash. Adjusting his sleep schedule is one more thing Iorveth will have to think about.)
Iorveth will take what he can get. He's stolen clothes from dead men's backs, spent weeks starving himself so that his soldiers could ration amongst themselves. He can want Astarion that way, too, holding on with bleeding fingernails and grit teeth, letting the depth of his need cut him to the bone.
All of that goes through his mind briefly, but none of it makes it to his actions. What he does in the here and now is cuddle closer like an oversized fox rubbing its scent on something it wants to keep, dragging his sex-warm skin over the palm touching it and nibbling down the column of Astarion's neck. ]
Again: we need a separate room.
[ Which reminds him that there may or may not be someone else in this space with them, huddled and traumatized on their bed. Or, in the case of Halsin, perhaps putting his hands down his own pants. There is a soft sound of movement on the other side of their quarters, but it could potentially just be the owlbear cub. ]
no subject
(No more sleeping in until the sky is high, because Astarion would burn to ash. Adjusting his sleep schedule is one more thing Iorveth will have to think about.)
Iorveth will take what he can get. He's stolen clothes from dead men's backs, spent weeks starving himself so that his soldiers could ration amongst themselves. He can want Astarion that way, too, holding on with bleeding fingernails and grit teeth, letting the depth of his need cut him to the bone.
All of that goes through his mind briefly, but none of it makes it to his actions. What he does in the here and now is cuddle closer like an oversized fox rubbing its scent on something it wants to keep, dragging his sex-warm skin over the palm touching it and nibbling down the column of Astarion's neck. ]
Again: we need a separate room.
[ Which reminds him that there may or may not be someone else in this space with them, huddled and traumatized on their bed. Or, in the case of Halsin, perhaps putting his hands down his own pants. There is a soft sound of movement on the other side of their quarters, but it could potentially just be the owlbear cub. ]