His breath catches quietly when he realizes the laces have been cut through, easing the pressure but also no longer able to conceal his desire quite so well. Astarion was going to find the reality of it eventually, though Fenris hadn't anticipated it would be at the expense of his clothes. He can repair them later.

"All I am hearing are threats," he says with a grin. A quiet groan rises as Astarion offers more pressure against his arm and between his thighs, reminding him of his position while trying to restrain his own obvious need.

Something about being pinned like this, back to the ground and a blade in hand, makes it easier to allow himself to want. And for all of his sarcasm and dry dismissal, the way Astarion talks to him when he gets like this is just as arousing as the strained friction between them.

"Would it help if I cut you again?" He thinks he could, even with Astarion leaning into him. He would just have to be quick. And forceful.