essea: (38.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote 2024-10-12 02:49 pm (UTC)

[ Adding some finishing touches to stubborn curls in the back, Iorveth tries not to let the phrasing of that last sentiment sour his peaceful mood. Astarion lives to please. As much as he knows that it's probably not that deep, Iorveth hates the implication behind it, hates the idea that Astarion will mold himself to whatever is expected of him from any given person in order to feel safe.

It's something Iorveth can't relate to. All his life, he's been rebelling. Fighting for the right to be. The unimaginable degradation of being forced to submit twists his gut; he never wants Astarion to have to debase himself like that ever again, and especially not in front of him.

Two tendays ago, he would have pulled away and made space between them. "How dare you imply that I need you to please me". Now, he sets the hairbrush aside and loops his arms around Astarion's middle, chiding only with a squeeze and a sigh.
]

Idiot. I want you only as you are. [ A soft snort, and he adds: ] But I will grouse if you deny me your mouth for too long.

[ So he says. If Astarion tells him not to kiss again for a week, Iorveth is sure he could do it― it's the rest of the group that'll have to suffer his terrible mood. ]

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