[Astarion agrees, and leaning into that pressure comes as easily as breathing, his body and mind already attuned to what they want over everything else. Bare skin burning pleasantly to feel the rougher scrape of cloth pushed high and hard into the softest places between his legs, caressing at him on command if those branded hands still won't— chin sat heavy in that palm like a monument to profane mergers paved in iron lust.
He knows the path they're on. The way they're settled.
He knows he's smiling as he keeps his own hands squared across that chest, gripping linen at the centerline. His posture shifting. Rocking. Dragging high across the borders of a cock he hasn't taken yet— not really. Not the way he's dreamed of well before last night, making Violet and the others right (though fuck if he'll admit it when they inevitably hear the truth about all this).
If Fenris won't make that last, final leap into pitch-perfect disaster, Astarion gladly will.]
And I want you.
[Pushing past the angle of that grip around his jaw to kiss him fully— more chaste than what the rest of him implies. Tinged with lilac. Leather oil. Heat.]
no subject
[Astarion agrees, and leaning into that pressure comes as easily as breathing, his body and mind already attuned to what they want over everything else. Bare skin burning pleasantly to feel the rougher scrape of cloth pushed high and hard into the softest places between his legs, caressing at him on command if those branded hands still won't— chin sat heavy in that palm like a monument to profane mergers paved in iron lust.
He knows the path they're on. The way they're settled.
He knows he's smiling as he keeps his own hands squared across that chest, gripping linen at the centerline. His posture shifting. Rocking. Dragging high across the borders of a cock he hasn't taken yet— not really. Not the way he's dreamed of well before last night, making Violet and the others right (though fuck if he'll admit it when they inevitably hear the truth about all this).
If Fenris won't make that last, final leap into pitch-perfect disaster, Astarion gladly will.]
And I want you.
[Pushing past the angle of that grip around his jaw to kiss him fully— more chaste than what the rest of him implies. Tinged with lilac. Leather oil. Heat.]
Revolting spices and all.