TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

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[sixfeetofdirt]

"I'm fine," he murmurs, a soothing lie, but it feels...different? It's not the kind of lie where he's swallowing bile to keep himself safe from the other party's displeasure. It's just...Jacob needs him right now. One of them needs to be fully functional, and right now, it can only be Astarion. "We can stay here."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Jacob's grateful for it and he stays there a few moments longer before he feels that he might be able to move.

He gives Astarion's hand one last squeeze and then sits up.

"What happened to the alarms?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Oh, I destroyed them," he says mildly. "I suppose they could be repaired. I could ask my warden about making my cabin soundproof?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"You'd do that for me?"

The idea that someone would go out of their way for him, for Astarion to ask his warden for this, is overwhelming.

He sits there, a little lost, before he just pulls him into a thankful embrace.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion briefly startles, but returns the hug quickly, holding on tight. One hand reaches up to cradle the back of his head.

"I don't like loud noises either," he chuckles softly. "But yes. I can do that for both of us."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He nods against him, choosing to thank him with this rather than with words. "Think I can finish sleeping here?" he asks. "I will probably hit the first person I see if I try and go back."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I insist," Astarion says firmly. "I'll also cast a vote for returning to bed, however."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He's shaky as he stands, feeling as if he had run the deck. All of his muscles are sore and twitchy, and it takes all he has to simply stand up and return to bed.

"I think I bruised my fucking back," he grumbles, but he's glad for it. Reminds him of where he is.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"...Rosita gave me a massage a little while ago, and it helped," Astarion says, as he more smoothly rises to his feet. "Would you like me to...?"

It's a heavy step back into touch and intimacy, but it feels much less loaded than anything explicitly sexual.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

That sounds - phenomenal. Jacob hasn't had anything like that for as long as he can remember, but it's exactly the sort of touch that seems productive to him right now.

"Yeah, actually. That'd be great," he tells him, sliding onto his stomach on the bed. "What did it help for you?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"It was relaxing," he recalls. "And it wasn't something I'd ever experienced before. It was just...a nice way to be touched."

No baggage, no expectation, no anxiety. Even while his body was going slack and loose, his mind could stay fully in that moment.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He settles his hands underneath his cheek, turning his head and closing his eyes. He's intrigued, of course, especially since he knows that touch is so difficult for Astarion sometimes.

"Sounds like you need a few more of 'em," he remarks.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion finds some balm for his hands, and squeezes a little onto one palm. It's unscented.

"Rosita thought so too, I think. She wasn't wrong. My hands are rather cool, I'm afraid - I'll start with your shoulders."

Both warnings so that hopefully he won't tense up too badly when his hands settle down and start to slowly press at his skin and muscle.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

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.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"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."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"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.

"What happened?" he asks instead.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"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."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

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."

[sixfeetofdirt]

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."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

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."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"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."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, then turns around to take Astarion's hands in his own.

"Promise for what?" he mutters.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion frowns and looks away.

"Safety. Security. Freedom I can defend."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"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."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"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.