They are different, yes, and remind him a bit of the way lamps in Baldur's Gate stand out against the night sky. There's a familiarity in that, having now existed so long under the blanket of darkness, whether he will it or no. Fitting or not for their circumstances, they do have a quality he chooses not to define. Because ultimately it doesn't matter.
She's their leader. His key to success. And it's simply a fringe benefit that she's attractive. A happy accident.
"On your back," he instructs as he brings his hands down to her thighs. Dragging his lips down her jawline and back to her neck, but on the opposite side of where he drank just a moment ago. Astarion starts the motion of laying her down, but he doesn't do it fully without Ea's permission and assistance.
There is something as appealing to the kiss he leaves against her neck as there is to the way he moves to lie her down. It makes her fold very easily; past hedonistic tendencies come back in full swing. She misses having people to be physical and affectionate with - not beloveds, but lovers. Casual, temporary, consenting arrangements that on paper sound dry and boring, but didn't stop them from being hot and heady.
There is no bad wine running through her veins this time, unlike at the party the tieflings threw for them near the grove. There is no Astarion giving her bedroom eyes in a meadow and purring about how he's been waiting to taste her, to have her.
Well - to a point. He is incapable to not having bedroom eyes when in his literal on-the-road bedroom. Either way, it's a sober affair and yet dizzyingly nice. She reaches behind her to catch herself on the way down, leaning against her hand then going to her elbow, and moving the rest of the way to lie down. She wants to respond with something sensual, has her lips parted to start saying it, when -
riiiiiiip
- her left horn catches on one of the many cushions on the ground, ripping the fabric apart and sending feathers fluttering. Her eyes widen at the sound - and then the feathers - and catch his for a millisecond before she snorts and covers her mouth with one hand to muffle her laughter.
They are practiced motions for Astarion, decades of finding the right ways to maneuver another body while getting comfortable himself in whatever position is necessary. This is no different, especially not with a body that he is already acquainted with. Ea had been malleable enough in the first, so this should be—
"..."
Astarion does pull up from where he was moving down her clavicle, red eyes widening a bit as they dart between Ea's horn and one of his (many) beloved pillows.
"Yes, yes you will." He doesn't hide the annoyance in his voice even though it is an honest mistake. He doesn't have horns to manage, you see! Which means this was a bit of an oversight on his part. (So much for decades of experience.) But he will still blame Ea because that's easier.
He reaches behind her to shove the pillow away, raising his brow when his gaze returns to her face. Of course she finds it funny. He...well, it is a little funny.
"If you want to tear something helpful, my dear, you could remove your trousers."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2026-01-21 06:11 am (UTC)She's their leader. His key to success. And it's simply a fringe benefit that she's attractive. A happy accident.
"On your back," he instructs as he brings his hands down to her thighs. Dragging his lips down her jawline and back to her neck, but on the opposite side of where he drank just a moment ago. Astarion starts the motion of laying her down, but he doesn't do it fully without Ea's permission and assistance.
no subject
Date: 2026-01-21 08:54 pm (UTC)There is no bad wine running through her veins this time, unlike at the party the tieflings threw for them near the grove. There is no Astarion giving her bedroom eyes in a meadow and purring about how he's been waiting to taste her, to have her.
Well - to a point. He is incapable to not having bedroom eyes when in his literal on-the-road bedroom. Either way, it's a sober affair and yet dizzyingly nice. She reaches behind her to catch herself on the way down, leaning against her hand then going to her elbow, and moving the rest of the way to lie down. She wants to respond with something sensual, has her lips parted to start saying it, when -
riiiiiiip
- her left horn catches on one of the many cushions on the ground, ripping the fabric apart and sending feathers fluttering. Her eyes widen at the sound - and then the feathers - and catch his for a millisecond before she snorts and covers her mouth with one hand to muffle her laughter.
"Shit - sorry."
So much for smooth. "I'll replace that."
no subject
Date: 2026-01-29 06:14 am (UTC)"..."
Astarion does pull up from where he was moving down her clavicle, red eyes widening a bit as they dart between Ea's horn and one of his (many) beloved pillows.
"Yes, yes you will." He doesn't hide the annoyance in his voice even though it is an honest mistake. He doesn't have horns to manage, you see! Which means this was a bit of an oversight on his part. (So much for decades of experience.) But he will still blame Ea because that's easier.
He reaches behind her to shove the pillow away, raising his brow when his gaze returns to her face. Of course she finds it funny. He...well, it is a little funny.
"If you want to tear something helpful, my dear, you could remove your trousers."