[ Whatever he expected in response to his playful teasing, it isn’t this. It’s one thing to think of Astarion as possessive in general — unwilling to part with his stolen trinkets — it’s another entirely for it to be turned on him, specifically.
His stomach does a little flip, at Astarion claiming him so easily. tell them to get their own wizard, like he might want to have and keep Gale, despite his mistakes. Before he can turn that realisation over his hands, he’s being kissed again, held firmly in calloused hands. His breath stops and starts, all his whirring thoughts blinking out. Then, he kisses back with ardor, licking into Astarion’s mouth, groaning as he brushes the tips of his fangs. At some point, he tangles his fingers in Astarion’s hair, his shirt all but forgotten. He tugs hard when he has to pull back a tick for air (thinking so very stupidly that it’s unfair Astarion doesn’t need to do the same). ]
Astarion — [ Because he can’t help but say something, and there’s little else on his mind as he surges forward for one kiss after another. Greedy for affection, after so long without it. The heady rush of arousal suffuses his veins as he runs a hand up and down Astarion’s side and squeezes his hip, feeling the clench of thighs in his lap. Dangerous. ]
Astarion — do you want — [ Words rushed between kisses along Astarion’s jaw, then mouthed down his neck. ] I can’t, but if you wanted — [ His thumb dips into Astarion’s waistband, communicating where his words have failed him. If Astarion would like to get off, Gale can oblige him. ]
no subject
His stomach does a little flip, at Astarion claiming him so easily. tell them to get their own wizard, like he might want to have and keep Gale, despite his mistakes. Before he can turn that realisation over his hands, he’s being kissed again, held firmly in calloused hands. His breath stops and starts, all his whirring thoughts blinking out. Then, he kisses back with ardor, licking into Astarion’s mouth, groaning as he brushes the tips of his fangs. At some point, he tangles his fingers in Astarion’s hair, his shirt all but forgotten. He tugs hard when he has to pull back a tick for air (thinking so very stupidly that it’s unfair Astarion doesn’t need to do the same). ]
Astarion — [ Because he can’t help but say something, and there’s little else on his mind as he surges forward for one kiss after another. Greedy for affection, after so long without it. The heady rush of arousal suffuses his veins as he runs a hand up and down Astarion’s side and squeezes his hip, feeling the clench of thighs in his lap. Dangerous. ]
Astarion — do you want — [ Words rushed between kisses along Astarion’s jaw, then mouthed down his neck. ] I can’t, but if you wanted — [ His thumb dips into Astarion’s waistband, communicating where his words have failed him. If Astarion would like to get off, Gale can oblige him. ]