TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

Comments

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Yeah, it's -"

He takes his phone out of his back pocket and, after a moment of scrolling, shows him a picture of a younger Jacob, hair cut short and no beard, dressed in his desert fatigues with a rifle over his shoulder. It's a picture of a photograph, so it's grainy, but he points anyway.

"That one."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion nods, his suspicion confirmed - but naturally, he's distracted by the photograph's other features.

"You look so finely honed, darling. How long ago was this taken?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Hey!"

He peers at the picture again and then over at Astarion with an incredulous laugh.

"That was twenty five years ago. I think I still look...honed."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion lets out a high little peal of laughter.

"Don't get me wrong, darling - you're gorgeous, no argument from me. I just mean the beard, the hair. Do all soldiers have to be clean-shaven?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He elbows him playfully. "Yeah, it's a thing. I was eighteen there. Just got out of juvie - prison. Of course I look like that."

He huffs and puts the phone back in his pocket.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Well, I much prefer you now," Astarion says primly, and gives his arm a squeeze. "Is there anything else you'd like me to see?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He slides his arms around him again. "Why? You ready to head back?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Not specifically. I'm just wondering if there's any other curiosities about this place you'd like to share."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He thinks a moment, then up the mountain. "There's a mountain lion cave up there," he laughs.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion furrows his brow.

"I don't think that's something I want to see," he judges.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Yeah, I thought not," he teases. "We can head back. Make sure you don't fall down the ridge this time. Clearly I can't keep my shit together."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Maybe this time, I'll be paying close enough attention to catch you," Astarion teases right back. "Or at least make sure you don't break anything on impact."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"My fucking hero," he laughs. "You wouldn't leave me to my fate?"

But he starts the trek back. "You want to have a drink or something tonight?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion responds by innocently sidling up just behind him and goosing him.

"Or something."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He jumps, absolutely not expecting that.

"What the fuck?" he laughs and just slings an arm around his shoulders to try and playfully yank him to the side.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion laughs and lets himself stumble, throwing an arm around Jacob in turn.

"Oh, would you prefer to be wooed instead, pet? I might have to stop by the library if you want poetry."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"You don't have anything lined up just for me? What the hell?"

He lets him go, but stays close. "You could just throw me in the snow and kiss me again."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Could I, now? I'm not entirely sure I'm strong enough for that."

But he will absolutely pull him into a kiss while still standing - and only then hook an ankle to try pulling him off balance while he's distracted.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Jacob is quick and strong, but Astarion has a hold on him that makes him lose all sense of the world around him.

So he's easily toppled, letting out a cry as he falls back into the snow.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion grins in a way that shows his fangs, straddling Jacob in the snow and leaning over him.

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"You can take me anywhere you want to," he laughs, gripping his shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

[sixfeetofdirt]

`Astarion chuckles and kisses him, immediately deep and passionate, his body sprawling down over Jacob's. His hands drift over his body, tracing out his arms and shoulders, stroking through his hair.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He responds immediately to the kiss, the touch, flushing warm despite the surrounding snow and ice. He closes his eyes, one arm around him, pressing close to feel his weight.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Mmm-"

He writhes against him, sensuous, greedy for sensation. This is easy, straightforward, familiar. A moment of escape and a definite source of pleasure.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Jacob pushes him back just once he starts to feel a bit dizzy from it.

"Ah, some of us have to breathe, you know," he murmurs, though he's certainly not going far. "You wanna finish this somewhere else?"