TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

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[sixfeetofdirt]

"We've got time now," Astarion breathes. His cool fingertips stroke the nape of his neck. "Whatever shall we do with it, mm? I'm wide open to suggestions."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

The touch to his neck elicits an involuntary shiver. "Are you?" He bites gently on Astarion's lip. "Guess we should fill the time."

He gently tugs him close, wanting him in his lap, against him.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion straddles him easily, his knees bracketing Jacob's thighs.

"Fill the time, he says. Is that all I am, to you?" he sniffs, unable to fight down the smirk to look or sound genuinely wounded. "A hobby?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

For a half second, he panics, then sees that look on his face.

"Yeah. Ain't that what this started as?"

He pushes fingers underneath Astarion's shirt, readjusting once he's in his lap.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion chuckles, all indulgent warmth, and leans in to scrape his fangs against his throat.

"It is. But I don't mind at all that it's become something a little...different."

A little more. Maybe even a lot more. But that's much harder to say out loud.

"Quite the opposite."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He doesn't stop the very quick moan at the teeth along his neck. It's been far, far too long.

"Me, either," he manages to stutter out. "You can actually bite, you know."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion doesn't ask if he's sure. Instead, he just hums his assent, then tilts his head a little further and sinks his teeth in. The rush of blood makes him moan in answer and hitch his hips in closer, all but writhing on top of him.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

His breath leaves him all in a rush and his nails catch on his back, digging in out of shock and pleasure. The initial pain, so sweet on its own, fades and he looks up to the ceiling with another moan, this one deeper and so needy.

"God...yes."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Astarion wonders if he could ever really be with someone who didn't enjoy this. Who didn't welcome this part of him. There's the occasional night, a bit of fun, but for more than that - it seems impossible to imagine a lover who doesn't make these sweet sounds under the press of his fangs.

Of course, it would be something else if Jacob was more interested in his vampirism than in him. He's been fetishised and he did not care for it.

But this is just...a perfect balance.

He pulls back silently, kissing at the little wounds he's made, lapping over them.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

In all the fantasies he's ever had, vampirism wasn't ever one he contemplated. He'd never really thought in that way. But the desire to give, to protect, to help, threw him face first into moments like this where a quick flash of pain, followed by the dizzying knowledge of something so intimate, is exactly what he likes.

And when Astarion pulls away, Jacob's quick to kiss him with bruising intensity.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion moans for him, returning the kiss with no less fervour, plunging his tongue hungrily into Jacob's mouth and sharing the copper taste of his own blood.

"I very nearly forgot how good you taste, Jacob," he murmurs, their mouths still barely touching.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He breathes him in, barely keeping up, luxuriating in the taste of the blood on his tongue. It isn't as shocking as it was before; it doesn't come with the reminder of the heat of the desert. It's something for them, something they share.

And, as always, his name sounds delightful on Astarion's tongue.

"Can't let that fucking happen," he mutters, intent now on getting the shirt from him.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Never," Astarion breathes, shucking off his shirt easily and then reaching for Jacob's. He wants bare skin against bare skin and the intimacy that privacy offers.

"I'll remember in a hundred years how your blood feels in my throat."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

It's a nice thought, to know that someone will still think about him in the future. That he won't fade into obscurity.

He tosses his fatigues and shirt to the side, then immediately pulls him close again, his shoulder aching in the best way.

"Good," he moans. "Cuz I won't forget any of this." He catches his mouth in a kiss again, spreading his fingers down his chest.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion shivers and arches into the touch, seeking friction now, wanting to stoke the warm burn of arousal in his gut.

"Jacob, I - won't take the slightest bit of offence if you say you're not interested, but..."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He sits up, hands stopping on Astarion's hips. "What is it?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Have you ever thought about doing this the other way around?" he asks, looking to meet Jacob's eye.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

At first, he's not sure what he means, but his eyebrows raise slightly when it dawns on him.

Has he thought about it?

"Yeah," he says, looking away from his face for a moment. "Actually yeah. Remember that - uh - that day I- "

Fuck.

"Got all on my knees for you? Thought about it then. And - uh - after. So. Yeah."

He clears his throat, fingers tight against Astarion's hips still.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion nuzzles into him, kissing his jaw, his lips. He can feel himself getting harder.

"Would you like me to fuck you?" he asks, much more plainly this time.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

This time, when he talks, it's a lot less hesitant. Just-

"Yeah. Yeah, I fucking would. You gotta walk me the fuck through it, though."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I will. I'll be very careful with you."

He smiles and kisses the wound he's left on Jacob's neck.

"The first and most obvious step, darling, is to get rid of the rest of these clothes."

He reaches for the button and zip of Jacob's trousers.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"No shit," but he's sitting up to let him unfasten them. Jacob pushes them from his hips and onto the floor, sitting up into a kiss.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion kisses back deeply, but only briefly, pulling away to deal with the matter of stripping down. He slithers out of the leather and cotton, leaving it in a tangle with Jacob's clothes as he kisses him again. And again.

"Gods, I can't wait to put my hands on you."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Then don't wait," he grumps, though it's all an anticipatory tease. "And remember, in ain't as flexible as you."
Which he says with a laugh so he can kiss his neck, hitching his hips against him.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Don't worry. I won't be tying you into knots any time soon," he promises. "Can I put my mouth on you?"