TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

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[harderdaddy]

Leaning into that touch, Angel bends to lessen the height difference and smiles softly. Fingers skim over linen, careful of his claws.

"Wouldn't sell for shit in hell," he laughs.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Oh, I've got a few things in my wardrobe which make me grateful I don't need to breathe," he chuckles. "It's always been an irony that the things I'd wear to advertise myself were the hardest to take off."

[harderdaddy]

Oh, Angel can very much relate. He laughs. "Heh- plus side a porn- we can cut out all the fussy parts a gettin' the costumes off. Clients think they just ain't smooth enough or strong enough ta rip the shit off like in the movies."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"People are very stupid," Astarion sighs. "I can only count myself lucky that the closest we had to pornography were erotic etchings and the occasional smutty ballad."

[harderdaddy]

That makes him snicker, trying to imagine the music videos he preforms for with vaguely accurate fantasy-esque musical accompaniment. "How'd ya keep a straight face?" he grins, and turns his head to press a kiss to Astarion's palm.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Oh, I was never performing," Astarion says. "How any bard keeps a straight face while they're rhyming something with 'turgid', I have no idea."

He smiles at the kiss, and catches one of Angel's hands to kiss his fingertips in kind.

"I'd entertain at parties, but that was...well, not the kind of entertainment one has to write and rehearse."

[harderdaddy]

"Even just listenin' to it, I can't imagine."
'Turgid' sets him off again, and he distracts himself kissing a path down his pale wrist, humming softly in acknowledgement against his skin.

"I used ta dance. Don' get to so much any more, Val wants me in the studio. But I miss it sometimes."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I'm sure you were a pleasure to watch," Astarion murmurs, letting go of Angel's hand and letting him do as he wishes. "You're...unlike anything I've ever seen before, you know."

[harderdaddy]

"I'll show ya sometime," he promises, and a grin spreads over his face, "Heh, lucked out as far as demons go. Mosta them ain't so lucky." He preens, ducking to steal a slow open mouthed kiss, and then another. "I ain't been with nothin' that looked human in...a long time."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion groans, faux-dramatic.

"'Looks human'. You cut me to the quick, my sweet."

But he's leaning in for another kiss, so he's clearly not that offended.

[harderdaddy]

"A beautiful an' charming human-" he amends, of course thinking that to be the source of the offense. As far as he's aware, between the barriers of heaven and hell there's only humans. As the kiss grows more heated, Angel tries his best to mind his teeth, "That fancy accent, pretty words- you sound like a hero right outta one a my sister's books she thought none of us knew about. 'Least how I always pictured 'em."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"A fairytale prince," Astarion murmurs, amused. He takes one of Angel's hands carefully and guides it up to his face, drawing his fingers up to the distinctive point of his ear.

"I didn't grow these when I became a vampire, darling. Beautiful and charming, absolutely - but never human."

[harderdaddy]

Oh! Angel flushes, fingers tracing over that distinctive shape curiously, and in wonder how few years (relatively) it took for that not to be a feature he recognized as unhuman straight away? Doesn't help that he has no visible ears.

"An...elf?" Like something from the fairy tales. Or that book with the hobbits and dwarves. His head tilts in disbelief. "Well then, I hope you'll forgive me for bein' one before I was this."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion nods. Elf is correct!

"No forgiveness necessary. I'm sure you were quite lovely back then, as well."

He kisses him again. He's used to his partners being more or less the same height, sometimes significantly shorter - not that he ever went out of his way to hunt halflings or dwarves, but sometimes he made do. Angel being so much taller than him is something he'll have to adjust to.

[harderdaddy]

"Smaller too," he laughs, but this at least he's learned to navigate. Demons might come in all shapes and sizes, but outside the of his co-workers and Val, there aren't a whole lot that are taller. Luckily most of his height his in his legs, and so he scans the room and guides them to somewhere he can gently push Astarion to sit and climbs into his lap. The distance not so strained, Angel happily resumes where they left off, fingers sliding blindly, over and under linen, and a whole other set smoothing back through those curls.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion doesn't have an abundance of seating in the room, so right now they're at the edge of his bed, arms loosely around Angel's body. The sensation of having more than two hands on him when he knows he's only in one other person's company is...odd, but it keeps him focused. Keeps his mind in the moment. He's a good kisser, they both are, and it makes it feel pleasantly straightforward. Nothing he needs to tolerate or indulge.

Under his clothes, his skin is cool and smooth, completely hairless and almost unmarked. The only place where that'll change is the pattern of raised scars covering his back in circles of carved runes.

[harderdaddy]

Cool- oddly enough isn't entirely strange, common enough at least that it's no shocking. But scars...those are rare- for sinners at least, and it gives Angel pause. He draws back, lips parting to question before he shuts them again. If he could still scar he'd have plenty of them, and he's not sure he'd want to share the story behind any of them just now. His fingers pet briefly at Astarion's throat and over his chest in silent apology, warm and soft even where his fur is least dense.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion draws away just enough to catch his eye.

"It's all right," he murmurs. "They don't hurt. May I...?"

He reaches for Angel's clothes, more than ready to have a little less between them

[harderdaddy]

[Ducked eyes lift with grateful smile, and he tries his best to truly let that concern melt away for the moment. Pity isn't something any seasoned whore wants or is in short supply of.

"Mm-" he nods breathlessly, shifting to free the dress enough that it can be pulled off and over his arms. More of the pink fur and large heart shaped patterning on his chest is revealed, and the thick fluff gives the illusion of breasts, but there's a flat chest below.

Apart from his boot there's nothing else to strip off, but he'd be forgiven for being mistaken, as for the moment at least there's no obvious genitalia of any kind. Shifting it out much in the same way he can his final set of arms, the cock shares the pink and white stripping and heart motif that the rest of his body sports. It's little wonder he's such a success at his job. It's like he was tailor made for it.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"That's quite the trick," Astarion murmurs, and briefly wonders if there's anything else he might be keeping hidden - but it doesn't matter, ultimately.

He pulls his own shirt off overhead in one smooth motion and then draws Angel back in to kiss him, slowly and thoroughly.

[harderdaddy]

Usually a large number of guns, but at the moment it's only one, and he can't even fire it, not that he know that.

He laughs softly and his shoulders shrug. "Good for business. Can let them pretend they ain't fuckin' a guy if that's what gets their rocks off."

Angel doesn't need to fake his enjoyment, though habit it makes it hard, biting off a few exaggerated sighs as he loses himself the kiss.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion doesn't remark, but he casts him a fleeting smile between kisses that says: I know exactly what you're doing, but it's okay. His lips trail down Angel's narrow throat, hands running lightly up and down his sides.

"May I use my mouth on you?"

[harderdaddy]

He starts to laugh at that, like it's joke.

"Don' gotta ask," he reassures easily, but after a beat he gives a nod of proper consent. "...yeah, 'course." It feels obvious enough that Angel flushes, and pushes ahead to avoid any looks of pity. "How'd'ya want me?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

Even after almost a damned year here, sleeping around with people who often give half a fuck about him, he would have laughed too if their positions were reversed. Being asked for explicit consent seems absurd. Old habits die hard.

"Stay just as you are," he asks, and starts working his way down his body. "I don't mind you pulling my hair, but if any comes out, I won't be happy."

[harderdaddy]

Angel laughs, giving those curls a playful tug and then smoothing them back down again, "Same, preferably," he agrees with a contented sigh, "I'll be good."