It isn’t necessary, that little push, no matter how pleasant it is; Astarion already knows its intended message by now, cast in the sweet shape of Fenris’ buckled groan, tumbling from pretty lips before there’s room enough for assent to follow.
Precious thing. Captivating thing. Familiar thing, Fenris. How far Astarion’s fallen for the elf straining beneath him now. How enamored he's become with watching him shiver and rise to meet every doting touch shared between them. The way green eyes watch him throughout even the most mundane of tasks, measuring what they are. What they want from each other.
Wherever this might lead.
Yes, Fenris gasps, and there isn't a difference in intent and interpretation, regardless of what it is, because Astarion moves in the very next beat to grant Fenris everything he'd asked for with it: not a single thrust this time, but a rough-set pace that builds and quickens— rushing into the vulgar, unmistakable sound of sex entirely unmasked. Damp and damning, bearing down into Fenris through that tightened hold on narrow hips and he's hammering this time with strength that hardly matches his own frame, ensuring every bruising buck forward is caught and drawn back against him, keeping Fenris locked around the heavy dig of his own cock as it grinds its way down against the grain.
His teeth are bared, though Fenris can't see it. Sharp and overlong, catching the ragged sounds of his own breathing over an obscenely percussive din.
no subject
Precious thing. Captivating thing. Familiar thing, Fenris. How far Astarion’s fallen for the elf straining beneath him now. How enamored he's become with watching him shiver and rise to meet every doting touch shared between them. The way green eyes watch him throughout even the most mundane of tasks, measuring what they are. What they want from each other.
Wherever this might lead.
Yes, Fenris gasps, and there isn't a difference in intent and interpretation, regardless of what it is, because Astarion moves in the very next beat to grant Fenris everything he'd asked for with it: not a single thrust this time, but a rough-set pace that builds and quickens— rushing into the vulgar, unmistakable sound of sex entirely unmasked. Damp and damning, bearing down into Fenris through that tightened hold on narrow hips and he's hammering this time with strength that hardly matches his own frame, ensuring every bruising buck forward is caught and drawn back against him, keeping Fenris locked around the heavy dig of his own cock as it grinds its way down against the grain.
His teeth are bared, though Fenris can't see it. Sharp and overlong, catching the ragged sounds of his own breathing over an obscenely percussive din.