Jacob is nothing but knots and scars and tense muscles, but he does try and relax under Astarion's touch. It's nice and firm, which he likes, and the thin t-shirt offers very little resistance between them.
"I don't mind," he tells him.
"Are you - doing better with the touch thing, then?" He doesn't know if this means that he is, or that he's hiding it better.
"I don't want that, either." He breathes in, lets it out after a moment, then shifts as Astarion hits a sore spot. He doesn't tell him to stop, though.
He couldn't quite say it to Rosita. He talked around it and then let her
make an inference which had become quite obvious. Here and now, he's
afraid. He's actively touching Jacob. However he responds to the truth,
Astarion will feel it.
But maybe he should feel that. Whatever shock and revulsion Jacob feels
on learning what his lover is capable of. He deserves it.
"During the breach, I - forced myself, on someone else."
There's no shock. There's no revulsion. There's just Jacob, who turns his head a little to see him better over his shoulder. "Fuck." He says it in a whisper, feeling an ache in his chest. "I'm sorry. No wonder you've been all fucked up. That's - cruel. That you have to carry it when you - you're not like that."
The sympathy feels like a blade in his heart. Astarion has to force himself
not to dig his nails into Jacob's skin, instead continuing to steadily rub
and knead.
"...No. But perhaps I could be. When I'm - drunk on power. When I'm
certain the world owes me whatever I want to take from it."
He can't imagine it, but, then again, he couldn't imagine his baby brother
carving up people and displaying their skin on church walls. He couldn't
imagine Joseph shooting people execution-style while they beg for their
families.
He couldn't imagine himself locking people in cages and starving them to
make brainwashed soldiers.
"Maybe. But that's not you. It does that to everyone. Power."
"I don't know," he admits. "But it didn't stop everything from crashing down around them. Joseph lost John, and me, and he will probably lose Faith. He worked - so fucking hard to bring us all together. That was the whole point. And he lost us."
Jacob swallows hard, the realization hitting him hard, saddling him with weight across his shoulders.
"So no. Even if he survived and kept the Project - he'd just be a shell."
That's how he'd felt, walking away from Jedao when it was done. A steel
shell, a gleaming suit of armour, powerful and untouchable. Protecting
something vile and rotten - not just protecting it. Hiding it.
"I want more than that," he whispers. It feels so...naive, almost, to
imagine there could even be more.
It's a nice idea. He really, truly wants to believe it. He would love
to believe that he can have happiness and not poison it just by way of
being who and what he is.
He doesn't answer. Just lowers his head and leans into Jacob's hands.
Astarion might argue that he was trying to do something nice for Jacob, but
Jacob says I want and it's easy to just...let it happen. It's not as if
he doesn't like being held.
He deflates into his embrace, wrapping his own arms around him in turn.
"Better," he assures him. "And - thanks to you, the alarms won't go off
again." Not tonight, at least.
It's rare that Jacob feels safe with someone. Like they could protect him
instead of the other way around, but Astarion has proven himself in this.
"You saved me from that."
"I saved this entire floor from that, but you're the only one I plan on
sleeping with," Astarion teases, because it's hard to deal with how he
feels about being considered Jacob's saviour. Even in this small way.
He leans into the kiss, cupping his jaw and pressing just a little. He
sinks into him, that small touch just enough to undo at least some of the
damage done by the alarm.
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"I don't mind," he tells him.
"Are you - doing better with the touch thing, then?" He doesn't know if this means that he is, or that he's hiding it better.
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"I'm...trying to," he says. "Do better. I don't...I can't just shut myself away into a box for all eternity. I don't want that."
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"What happened?" he asks instead.
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"I..."
He couldn't quite say it to Rosita. He talked around it and then let her make an inference which had become quite obvious. Here and now, he's afraid. He's actively touching Jacob. However he responds to the truth, Astarion will feel it.
But maybe he should feel that. Whatever shock and revulsion Jacob feels on learning what his lover is capable of. He deserves it.
"During the breach, I - forced myself, on someone else."
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The sympathy feels like a blade in his heart. Astarion has to force himself not to dig his nails into Jacob's skin, instead continuing to steadily rub and knead.
"...No. But perhaps I could be. When I'm - drunk on power. When I'm certain the world owes me whatever I want to take from it."
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He can't imagine it, but, then again, he couldn't imagine his baby brother carving up people and displaying their skin on church walls. He couldn't imagine Joseph shooting people execution-style while they beg for their families.
He couldn't imagine himself locking people in cages and starving them to make brainwashed soldiers.
"Maybe. But that's not you. It does that to everyone. Power."
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"Then I've been doing nothing but thirsting for poison since the moment I was freed from him. And I - I can't even say it's completely left me."
This is the thing he can barely even admit to himself.
"That hunger. It still - has so much promise."
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He pushes himself up onto his elbows, then turns around to take Astarion's hands in his own.
"Promise for what?" he mutters.
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Astarion frowns and looks away.
"Safety. Security. Freedom I can defend."
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"You can have that," he says, and its an argument they've had before. But not after he's had a taste.
"I already watched two people I love turn into someone they would have hated. The cost for what you want is huge."
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"Were they happy?"
He doesn't even know why he's asking. If the answer is yes - and he sincerely doubts it will be - that won't persuade him either way.
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Jacob swallows hard, the realization hitting him hard, saddling him with weight across his shoulders.
"So no. Even if he survived and kept the Project - he'd just be a shell."
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A shell.
That's how he'd felt, walking away from Jedao when it was done. A steel shell, a gleaming suit of armour, powerful and untouchable. Protecting something vile and rotten - not just protecting it. Hiding it.
"I want more than that," he whispers. It feels so...naive, almost, to imagine there could even be more.
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"Yeah, me too," he says and then places his hands on Astarion's shoulders. "You can have it. Safe and secure and fucking happy," he tells him.
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It's a nice idea. He really, truly wants to believe it. He would love to believe that he can have happiness and not poison it just by way of being who and what he is.
He doesn't answer. Just lowers his head and leans into Jacob's hands.
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Jacob wraps his arms loosely around Astarion and plants a soft kiss on his forehead.
"Come on. I - just want to hold you a while, okay?"
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Astarion might argue that he was trying to do something nice for Jacob, but Jacob says I want and it's easy to just...let it happen. It's not as if he doesn't like being held.
He deflates into his embrace, wrapping his own arms around him in turn.
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This is nicer than the massage. This is nicer than anything else. He settles down in the bed again, on his side, and holds out an arm for Astarion.
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He settles in close, resting his brow on Jacob's shoulder. His body is warm, his scent familiar, his pulse steady and reassuring.
"...How are you feeling?"
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"Better," he assures him. "And - thanks to you, the alarms won't go off again." Not tonight, at least.
It's rare that Jacob feels safe with someone. Like they could protect him instead of the other way around, but Astarion has proven himself in this. "You saved me from that."
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"I saved this entire floor from that, but you're the only one I plan on sleeping with," Astarion teases, because it's hard to deal with how he feels about being considered Jacob's saviour. Even in this small way.
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He chuckles. "Oh, lucky me," he murmurs, but he holds him close. "Can I kiss you - or is that too much?"
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"You can kiss me."
In fact, he tilts his head up and closes the distance, his lips parting slightly against Jacob's.
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He leans into the kiss, cupping his jaw and pressing just a little. He sinks into him, that small touch just enough to undo at least some of the damage done by the alarm.
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