He wants to say something, offer some kind of praise, but even the most complimentary lines his costars hit him with are laced with degradation. So instead Angel hisses out a curse, grip holding fast to encourage that attention.
"Fuck, you're a Good-" Good Boy doesn't feel right, Good Slut doesn't feel right, " Y-you're good," he amends.
Astarion's eyes flicker open, red gaze sliding up to Angel's face. The corners of his mouth curl up in a hint of a smile. Whatever words he censored himself of, he appreciates the effort.
He toys with him a little longer, tongue flicking and circling at the head of his cock, and then he takes him deep into his throat with the smooth ease borne of practice. His hands settle on his thighs, squeezing gently.
Angel gives a flustered smile right back, rolling his eyes at himself. "Ain't as good at improv as I thought," he jokes, but he doesn't have long to dwell on that, the thought left miles away he finds himself abruptly deep inside that throat, breath catching inside his own.
"Shit, I hope you really don't need to breathe, cause I dunno that I ever wanna left you off," he groans.
Astarion pulls up and off for a moment just to smile and remark -
"If I'm here all night, I'm really not doing that good a job, am I?"
- and then goes back down. He strokes his shaft with one hand in firm pumps as he concentrates his lips and tongue around the tip. Deepthroating is all well and good for a brief party trick, but it's not as useful in getting a man off, in his experience.
"Depends how many times I've come by then," he volleys back with a breathless laugh. And it's true, particularly when neither party is getting off strictly on the power struggle. Plenty a demon get their rocks off fucking his throat, but that's less skill on his part and more about them taking what they want.
"Y-fuck -you want me ta come like this or on your cock, 'cause I ain't gonna last much longer if ya keep it up," he cautions.
Astarion just flicks his red gaze up at him for a moment, then hums and
keeps going. He's very satisfied for Angel to come right here and right
now, his own erection aching with sympathetic arousal. Honestly, he'd be
happy not to get off at all, though he wouldn't do that to Angel. Hee knows
he himself would find that kind of behaviour disconcerting in a partner.
>_> dw ate my tag, let's see if i can rewrite it as well
It's all the permission Angel needs to stop holding himself back. There's no cameras here, no client to flatter, no restrictions against seeking his own pleasure. His hips rut up with an increasingly broken rhythm, free to enjoy himself like he used to with Val. Before Val became essential another client, one he couldn't say no to.
He pants murmured praises before he falls over the edge, body trembling with the relief of that climax.
"Heh, wouldn't complain at all if we were back home and had ta go into reshoots, fuck~"
Astarion makes a quietly amused sound around his mouthful, carefully and expertly working Angel through his orgasm until there's nothing left to give. It's pleasing to find him squirming, losing control, not thinking about whatever professional affect he has to assume for the cameras.
He swallows - nothing except blood really tastes like anything to him, and this is no exception - and then shifts up onto his knees. He's still dressed from the waist down but his own hardness is very clear, even under loose trousers.
Angel steals a moment or just to bask, before shifting to kiss Astarion in thanks, tasting himself on his tongue. Delicate fingers ghost over that hardness with a teasing and breathless smirk. "Let's care of you now, mm?" he says, adding some pressure with the heel of his palm while another hand works out how the trousers are fastened.
"I can open myself up?" he offers, eyes skirting around for any obvious sort of lube, but it wouldn't be the first time he's made do with spit.
There's a reflexive look of rejection, and then a flush of embarrassment for having such a stupid reaction. It passes over his features for only a moment and then there's an easy smile, one of his lower hands slides to free that poor cock, savoring the weight of it and giving a few idle strokes.
The fur on his hands is less thick than in other places, but just as soft and he wonders if this might be a novel sensation for him, and how long it took before it began common place for Angel? "Tell me about next time," he encourages, licking a stripe delicately along his jaw and whispers in his ear, "Tell me all the thing you want to do to me?"
The fur is new. Some races back home are hairier than others, true, but none quite this much. Astarion, by contrast, simply doesn't grow any hair below his scalp and eyebrows. The skin under Angel's tongue is perfectly smooth, and he shivers at the touch.
"I want to take my time with you," he breathes, hips rolling against Angel's hand. "I want to open you up on my tongue and feel your thighs shuddering against my skin."
"I'd take you slowly," Astarion murmurs, tilting his head to give Angel the
white expanse of his throat - unmarked but for two ragged punctures.
"However you prefer to be taken, below me or on top of me - what do you
like better?"
A second hand joins the first, fingers tracing and delicately toying with his head, while the other still moved nice and slow. His grip shifted, mimicking the drag of a body with fluctuating pressure.
He licks over that scar gently. "Below, if I've been quivering all that time~" There's a teasing smirk, and then an honest answer. "...I like it best below, but where we're face ta face. Not the sort of answer a porn star's supposed ta have."
Astarion shudders at the touch, the doubling of sensation, the care taken
to simulate the experience he's narrating.
"Then I'll have you like nobody's watching, darling. I'll wrap your legs
around my waist and hide your body under mine, fuck you until you're
trembling."
Another benifit of so many hands, there's plenty more to skim over sensitive area, up along ribs to tease at a pretty nipple, and down to fondle his balls, his own breathe shaking as he sighs.
"Might be trembling all ready, you paint a tempting fuckin' picture. Would you make me wait? Long and slow but lot allowed until you're ready? Or you wanna see how many times I can go in a row before I'm begging?"
"That - mm, that depends on you." His voice is getting a little lower
now, more laboured. Precome is leaking onto Angel's clever fingers as he
moves restlessly, thrusting into his grip. "I look at you and want to
indulge you. Want you to have everything you want."
He knows that's probably kind of alarming for someone like Angel. Gods
know that he himself immediately defaults to trying to be what his lover
wants, that he barely even knows what he enjoys in bed beyond the
simplest acts of pleasure. But it's true.
His hands keep working, smearing that precome with his thumb, and picking up the pace but his words drop off for a beat, not sure how to take that. It's just sex talk, Angel reasons. People have promised all sorts of things and played all sorts of roles in his bed, occasionally treating him like a real lover. Albeit one that will sit there and take the degradation that follows.
Or it's just two whores both stuck in their roles of pleasing.
"I want...you ta come on my tongue. Let me taste you, Beautiful," he encourages, switching from the fantasy to the present to avoid the fear that put in him. And he moves to lower his face and part his lips, tongue presenting a pretty target for him while he switches to stroking him with his upper pair of arms.
It's such a lurid, visual thing to ask for, such a pornographic way to present himself - Astarion knows that it's a default to something familiar, regardless of whether he finds it unpleasant. But it's undeniably stimulating, appealing to some animal part of him which is just chasing bliss. He can only gasp a warning and curl his hands tight in the sheets before he comes.
The eager sound Angel made as Astarion spills over his tongue is more genuine than not, he does enjoy this part. It's linked in his mind with where either praise or degradation will follow, and he finds a sort of comfort in them both- knowing what to expect.
He pumps Astarion through like he wants every drop he can get, holding the cum on his tongue and eyes trained on the elf before he swallows it down. Angel gives the oversensitive head a soft lick, releasing him with a coy grin, head ducking.
Astarion lets out a final shivering moan, the trace of overstimulation making his toes curl and his thighs twitch as Angel wrings out the very last of his orgasm.
There's a soft laugh, and Angel happily moves to deliver a grateful series of kisses. "This way ain't so bad..." he teases, no one buying the other's time, each free to say yes or no as they please. It's unfamiliar still, but...nice, and he swears to fuck he's not going to get fucking emotional about it, at the very least not until he's alone.
"That mean you'd invite me back? 'Cause I'd like that. You were pretty damn good. Worth not gettin' paid even." And there's very few people he can think of that fit that category, and mosta them are giving him drugs. Which to be fair Astarion had done previously, but Angel isn't here to thank him for that.
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lol, i'm dumb, idk why my brain forgot the cold part
"Fuck, you're a Good-" Good Boy doesn't feel right, Good Slut doesn't feel right, " Y-you're good," he amends.
I imagine he's like. room temperature
Astarion's eyes flicker open, red gaze sliding up to Angel's face. The corners of his mouth curl up in a hint of a smile. Whatever words he censored himself of, he appreciates the effort.
He toys with him a little longer, tongue flicking and circling at the head of his cock, and then he takes him deep into his throat with the smooth ease borne of practice. His hands settle on his thighs, squeezing gently.
that makes sese
"Shit, I hope you really don't need to breathe, cause I dunno that I ever wanna left you off," he groans.
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"If I'm here all night, I'm really not doing that good a job, am I?"
- and then goes back down. He strokes his shaft with one hand in firm pumps as he concentrates his lips and tongue around the tip. Deepthroating is all well and good for a brief party trick, but it's not as useful in getting a man off, in his experience.
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"Y-fuck -you want me ta come like this or on your cock, 'cause I ain't gonna last much longer if ya keep it up," he cautions.
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Astarion just flicks his red gaze up at him for a moment, then hums and keeps going. He's very satisfied for Angel to come right here and right now, his own erection aching with sympathetic arousal. Honestly, he'd be happy not to get off at all, though he wouldn't do that to Angel. Hee knows he himself would find that kind of behaviour disconcerting in a partner.
>_> dw ate my tag, let's see if i can rewrite it as well
He pants murmured praises before he falls over the edge, body trembling with the relief of that climax.
"Heh, wouldn't complain at all if we were back home and had ta go into reshoots, fuck~"
Ahh dw why
Astarion makes a quietly amused sound around his mouthful, carefully and expertly working Angel through his orgasm until there's nothing left to give. It's pleasing to find him squirming, losing control, not thinking about whatever professional affect he has to assume for the cameras.
He swallows - nothing except blood really tastes like anything to him, and this is no exception - and then shifts up onto his knees. He's still dressed from the waist down but his own hardness is very clear, even under loose trousers.
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"I can open myself up?" he offers, eyes skirting around for any obvious sort of lube, but it wouldn't be the first time he's made do with spit.
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It's a lace fastening at the side, which Astarion reaches to tug open. The touch between his thighs is undeniably quite distracting.
"Let's save that for next time," he murmurs. "I'd be more than happy with one of your many capable hands."
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The fur on his hands is less thick than in other places, but just as soft and he wonders if this might be a novel sensation for him, and how long it took before it began common place for Angel? "Tell me about next time," he encourages, licking a stripe delicately along his jaw and whispers in his ear, "Tell me all the thing you want to do to me?"
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The fur is new. Some races back home are hairier than others, true, but none quite this much. Astarion, by contrast, simply doesn't grow any hair below his scalp and eyebrows. The skin under Angel's tongue is perfectly smooth, and he shivers at the touch.
"I want to take my time with you," he breathes, hips rolling against Angel's hand. "I want to open you up on my tongue and feel your thighs shuddering against my skin."
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"I've seen how talented that lovely tongue is. Taking me apart~ And once m'good an' ready for ya?"
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"I'd take you slowly," Astarion murmurs, tilting his head to give Angel the white expanse of his throat - unmarked but for two ragged punctures. "However you prefer to be taken, below me or on top of me - what do you like better?"
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He licks over that scar gently. "Below, if I've been quivering all that time~" There's a teasing smirk, and then an honest answer. "...I like it best below, but where we're face ta face. Not the sort of answer a porn star's supposed ta have."
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Astarion shudders at the touch, the doubling of sensation, the care taken to simulate the experience he's narrating.
"Then I'll have you like nobody's watching, darling. I'll wrap your legs around my waist and hide your body under mine, fuck you until you're trembling."
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"Might be trembling all ready, you paint a tempting fuckin' picture. Would you make me wait? Long and slow but lot allowed until you're ready? Or you wanna see how many times I can go in a row before I'm begging?"
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"That - mm, that depends on you." His voice is getting a little lower now, more laboured. Precome is leaking onto Angel's clever fingers as he moves restlessly, thrusting into his grip. "I look at you and want to indulge you. Want you to have everything you want."
He knows that's probably kind of alarming for someone like Angel. Gods know that he himself immediately defaults to trying to be what his lover wants, that he barely even knows what he enjoys in bed beyond the simplest acts of pleasure. But it's true.
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Or it's just two whores both stuck in their roles of pleasing.
"I want...you ta come on my tongue. Let me taste you, Beautiful," he encourages, switching from the fantasy to the present to avoid the fear that put in him. And he moves to lower his face and part his lips, tongue presenting a pretty target for him while he switches to stroking him with his upper pair of arms.
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It's such a lurid, visual thing to ask for, such a pornographic way to present himself - Astarion knows that it's a default to something familiar, regardless of whether he finds it unpleasant. But it's undeniably stimulating, appealing to some animal part of him which is just chasing bliss. He can only gasp a warning and curl his hands tight in the sheets before he comes.
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He pumps Astarion through like he wants every drop he can get, holding the cum on his tongue and eyes trained on the elf before he swallows it down. Angel gives the oversensitive head a soft lick, releasing him with a coy grin, head ducking.
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Astarion lets out a final shivering moan, the trace of overstimulation making his toes curl and his thighs twitch as Angel wrings out the very last of his orgasm.
"...Gods. Come here and kiss me, darling?"
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"I've found it has much to recommend it," Astarion agrees. "You're excellent company."
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<3