illithidnapped: (12)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-11-28 12:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh if you thought he'd be used to this by now, you'd be wrong.

Creature of habit that he is, his rabbiting pulse spikes so high it hits his ears before he hits the bed in harsh refrain— adrenaline dizzier than vertigo in a spinning room while his legs are tangled around lithe hips and his lower half pins snug inside their crux. Two seconds ago: he'd been leering at his sheets. Right now: the ceiling overhead. That snarling, handsome face. Those staggering green eyes, lit from within, and there— right in their center— his own reflection, angled back.

....and coming quickly into focus.

He's living for this as it crawls over him; he's alive inside its deep-cast shadow when it moves closer. Nothing like the palpitating rush that drug and drink bring on or how senselessly worked up Astarion gets after landing a worthwhile catch with a name worth touting (irony of ironies being that he's still swept up on his back), just— he doesn't know, it's different. Bloody Hells, it's different. Higher. Headier. More enticingly addictive at its core and infinitely more damning considering all the consequences he can't pay off if one of them so much as nudges his phone in the middle of this skirmish, meaning maybe there's something to be said for that old adage about risk and reward.

He's just too high on both to remember what it was. Smiling against the roughness scoring his hot mouth; Sparking electricity just to feel his bruised wrist whine in aching protest that threads right through his own— shirt rucked, teeth poised, snapping to try and reach (catch, bite) the sly fighter overtaking him: every narrow movement falling short, but that's exciting, too. They won't know, a lost admission in the middle of it all. They think I never fucked you.

And it's not really a lie.

And—


Oh.



O h.

Should he— should he tell him?

He should, right? After all, it's not like that first night anymore, back when he'd assumed his purchased watchdog of a wolf would only last a week inside these halls; the man will find out eventually if he stays here, anyway. Not to mention he'll be more than slightly pissed if that inevitable reveal comes slipping out from someone else's mouth.

Besides, they're friends....aren't they? Or....well, something like it, all things reasonably considered.

Fine, all right, yes. okay.
]

Fenris—

[He mouths against yet another kiss, vying for a moment to confess (it has the unintended effect of sounding like a vulgar, hitching moan).]

Mmnh, Fenris, I—
illithidnapped: (25)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-11-29 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
[Never mind. He starts, stops. Never mind, that's all he thinks as that tongue pries him open more and more with every slow, exploratory lick— like patience is a thing he can even start to dredge up underneath something so immense and all-encompassing as what he's stealing mouthfuls of— oh, he doesn't want to stop. Gnawing at his own flush lips in the drawback like a weak continuation of their game, he'd start to whine if he could manage it: instead he's looking up at Fenris from caught sheets like he's a half step away from begging for that offered cock.

Hells, maybe he is.

He's certainly rethinking the whole confessing for a good cause part, after all.
]

I erm—

Hm.

[Hm and mhm slipped out through his nose.]

The calling you old man thing— about that.

Specifically the part about it not applying. Specifically specifically about what I told you that first night.

[Maker, his prick is hard. It aches. Is there a word for the inbetween between guilt and horny as all hells?

If so: currently dying from it.
]

When I said I was almost a century old....I....[ahahah....] well I might have been exaggerating.

A little.

[Just a....teeny. Tiny. Very very very unmentionably small bit.]
illithidnapped: (125)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-11-29 01:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[Sitting up is an ordeal that buys them a handful of seconds, at least. Segue pulling decency back into his (mostly) upright lap alongside the hemlines of his shirt, leaving Astarion fighting for a few more beats by way of fiddling with his curls: the heels of his palms haphazardly shoving silver strands out of his own face to— you know, offer up a little less of a reminder in the here and now that they were just tangled up in one another, open-mouthed and nearly cock-to-naked-cock (especially when the look stuck on Fenris' face is something along the lines of oh gods, oh gods, what have I done).

So....not off to a great start there, as it so happens.
]

Not much at all, I swear!

[And by elven standards? Technically true.

It's just that those standards are usually applied under a drastically different set of circumstances than facefucking your own bodyguard-et-teacher-et-sort-of-but-not-really-your-slave, at the very least.
]

Just....a couple of decades here and there.

[A beat.]

Like, say: three of them?


....going in a direction closer to zero than a hundred.
Edited 2023-11-29 14:09 (UTC)
illithidnapped: (138)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-11-30 06:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ah.

Funny you should ask, Fenris:
]

....now....?

[Eyebrow cocked as accomplice to an impatient little half-shrug— scrunching up the bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth— unsure even in its stark naked honesty, which has the added bonus of making Astarion look that much slighter against the backdrop of an oversized headboard thanks to the way he's shuttling his shoulders underneath his sleeping shirt.

Constricted little frame already slithering right towards defensiveness now that the subject's swung back around to him.

Well.

More him. Less the concept of him as previously sold via aforementioned exaggerations.

(Don't @ him for this.)
]

I don't know— it didn't really seem relevant until this morning.

Edited 2023-11-30 21:51 (UTC)
illithidnapped: (A3)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-12-02 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
[To be fair, none of this is fair; Astarion doesn't go hostile for that start.

Least of all because it's true.

As for the rest? There's a pair of warm arms circling him by the end of it, and a sturdy lap beneath him. There's a shoulder primed for his cheek to rest on, even if it's tense enough from turmoil to feel more like a rock than a pillow. There's a sense— or just a hunch on Astarion's side of things— that doesn't spell the end of their unnamed arrangement, or to quote Fenris, the end of this by way of 'if we are to do this', and that's the part he unexpectedly likes most.

So if that means taking the (rightful) blame for his behavior for the first time in his less-than-half-a-centuried life— maybe there's a second meaning to his smile. The pressure set across a faintly glowing shoulder.

Maybe he's also still a menace:
]

I'm actually an ancient vampire trapped in an eternally young body, and held captive by an estate that only pretends to be my family. I have— [oh, what's a rounded number] six other siblings, none of them by blood, with you about to make the seventh.

[Punctuated by a chomp of his dull teeth into the shoulder he's draped on.

(No, he hasn't got anymore secrets.)
]


I wasn't trying to lie to you after that night, you know. [First night? yes. Aftermath, well— span it a few weeks between the glowers and the attempts to seduce for cruelty and competition's sake, right up until cool, damp cloth sank kind against his skin.]

I just didn't think you'd last.

[No one else did, anyway.

Chin still pushed into that shoulder; gaze still unfixed for a beat.
]

Or that I'd care.
illithidnapped: (you know I can't say no)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-12-05 10:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[His scoff is the lightest brush across that shoulder underneath.]

About what happens to you? [About you.] Mmhm.

[He wants those fingers behind his ears. He wants the soft pull of them tucked under his curls— please— without playing into that he's sorry. That he was wrong. That he might not want to do better, but he wants to try. Good behavior the last thing allowed to sit beside him via choice if he's not getting anything out of it.

But like everything else, Astarion won't beg for it— he pushes.

Starting first through words. Then by shoving back against those teeth as they close in, ignoring the twitch of a bitten ear that flicks once— twice— one part whipping out of reach while the rest of him drives nearer in their sprawl: arching his back. Locking his legs a little more, and using his toes to push over thick sheets. A kind of angled drive that slants him into Fenris right down to the margins.

Which is as far as it all goes.

Considering the messy tangle of conflicted emotion they're otherwise burning through, he's not actually trying to incite a second (third?) bout; there's no skipping over the shaky midline of it all to get right back to the spot where they'd left off, despite the run of his own nature. Even his shirt hem stays put, surprisingly. Balled up somewhere between the corner of an angled thigh and pinched in the creasing merger of rough fabric, it's doing the hard, thankless work of keeping modesty intact.
]

You already know you're the most interesting person I talk to, and....

[Oh, give him a second. He's thinking.]

....a fairly decent lay.

[Guilt and indemnity aside, once again: Astarion Ancunín's not laying it on thick unless he's being catered to first.]
illithidnapped: (49)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-12-07 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[He likes the rumble of that soundless laughter.

He likes the way fingers lock down in his hair, aching. 

He likes the way that diminutive name hits: stellula, and it's not the first time he's been called star, but it's the first time he's enjoyed it for exactly what it promises: that despite the yawning loneliness of his not-quite-as-long-as-formerly-professed life, someone isn't tolerating him for a selfish, unspoken cause. They're just tolerating him.

Which is all part of this, too.

(And maybe, blown back in the face of shit-poor odds, someone might even— )
]

You try again. 

[Snap— the quick click of his teeth catching around those syllables when he grins like a flipped card in the last round of Wicked Grace, fingertips busy shoving back against the dead center of Fenris' chest.]

Who says I was trying to compliment you? [And in his defense (it's not a defense), it's still a day for truths, apparently:]

I save all my flattery for the people I actually need to win over. 
illithidnapped: (123)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-12-08 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
[This time it's Astarion that laughs, clear and bright as the sunlight washed across their tangled feet through half-shut windows.]

I was tired.

[His hips shift....just a touch. A test. Not strictly misbehaving, but not not misbehaving either in the way he tugs against the leash of stronger fingers, scalp burning in a way he's come to love.

(And if Fenris wants none of it— if he stiffens in the wrong ways, stopping's so easy when they're both laid up like this.

Well.

Mostly laid up, considering it's more of an intertwining tangle, now. Knuckles to his scalp; knuckles to the warm, inviting center of Fenris' chest. Knees to thighs and ankles to ankles.)
]

Trying to make you jealous was exhausting; that spoiled brat [says the elf barely any older, if that] wouldn't stop wriggling in my lap.

By the time I got to you, it's a wonder I was even awake at all.
illithidnapped: (74)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-12-09 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
I—

[He's blushing more for that comment than the bite it's brought in by: red marks staining pallid skin in the shape of dragging teeth despite the fact that all his flush is stuck high in his ears. His pink-tinged cheeks, squeezed higher by degrees for the curl of a lip around one inset canine (and ignore the way his pulse is hosting a revolt all on its own, drumming into a frenzy away from Fenris' hard grip).

His eyebrows are pinched into a point so sharp he might actually be able to stab a man to death with it.
]

J-jealous— I never— [Never, but he doesn't have it in him to bristle like he should. His best attempt melts in the margins of bent knees and balled-up fingers, bitter as his mood and somehow even harder to swallow. In fact the only reason why he gets it down is because momentum practically tramples it in favor of something else:]

I thought I was your only friend.

[Is he playing that angle up as a distraction?

Well, no, actually.

Because if he was, he'd be more clever about it. Drag out the sympathetic angle instead of the flash of silver cast by narrowed eyes in the seconds where his back arches and his weight drops a little further into that waiting hold. Maybe opt not to change the subject like the inattentive thing he is.
]

Khh. They did.

[Goes without saying who they are.]
illithidnapped: (25)

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-12-10 02:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's not that he suddenly feels as naked as he is once that hold slides free, it's—

Actually, he doesn't know. Hasn't got a clue, really, what it is in him that pulls him towards tractability (right down to the way upturned ears flick high towards each pull, or the slow stop-start hitching of his well-framed heart once that heavy palm sets in), in ways he's always bucked against on thoroughly compulsive instinct: angry to be told no, regardless of how nicely. Prone to shoving, scowling, scoffing— he's lost track of how many times he's made a game of sinking deeper into his own chair during grander speeches just because he knows it'll leave his own kin seeing red.

But not this.

Or—

Or if yes this, considering the oscillating flow of contrary momentum, it at least isn't rearing up right now.

Not so long as he can shift a little more forwards across that sprawled-out form. Not as long as he's tended to and seen, considering all the questions Fenris has ever posed are a damned sight more perceptive than what the average Patriar would expect of any bodyguard, let alone a former slave.

Come to think of it, they're more perceptive than the average Patriar, too.
]

I don't value their opinion at all— even a blind, deaf, inbred Gur could—
illithidnapped: (A17)

2/3

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-12-10 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[ —oh.

Oh wait.

Wait wait wait.

Wait wait wait wait wait.
]


illithidnapped: (A22)

3/3

[personal profile] illithidnapped 2023-12-10 02:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[Did he just—

No. No. That was a mistake, right? It— he didn't mean to say—
]

Did—

[His fingers are raised. Flexing. Hovering over the centerpoint of where they'd been anchored, they've taken to doing something just shy of a hold-up gesture meets intermittent, very shitty pointing.]

Did you just say [lover] that we're friends?

[NO. LOVER, ASTARION. THAT'S THE PART YOU WANT TO ASK ABOUT: LOVER.]

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