[Taryon takes a long, deep inhale through his nose. His chest rises, and his hand slides downward over Astarion's chest. He can do this. He won't be judged by what's underneath his clothes. Astarion knows what he's doing, even when Taryon is still figuring so much about himself.
And it will be great, if Astarion drinking his blood affected him already. His heart pounds thinking of Astarion's bare chest that he saw at the hotel, wondering what it would be like to be treated by an expert lover...but theres one remaining concern he has.]
...What about your injuries? I'm not--!! [He takes Astarion's waist in his free hand.] I'm not trying to excuse myself! Well, sure, I'm a bit nervous, I'm not like...alright, it's a big step. But you did get injured a lot back there.
[He can hear his heart speed up, which was somehow more affecting than seeing the bulge in his pants. Astarion is making him like this, without needing to, without his usual "charms", just because he is himself. It's a wonderful feeling on it's own.
It takes a great surge of his will not to laugh bitterly and remark he has fucked through worse, and instead just titters lightly.]
I'm fine, I promise. My, uh, stamina might be limited but I don't think you'll mind.
[That, and his erotic feeding habits. Taryon will think twice before asking to feed Astarion next time if they are in a public space.]
Alright. Alright. [He could always offer another drink if his injuries act up...and it would maintain his own arousal. A win-win situation. Taryon finally exhales and smiles at this bit of assurance that he won't hurt his boyfriend.]
...I'll be gentle. We'll be gentle. Whatever we end up doing. [He hopes he hasn't misplaced the non-flavored condoms if it goes into that direction.] I...should warn you that I really don't know what I'm doing most of the time.
[His fingers grab onto the top of his shirt and fingers the top button. At least he knows the first step is to be desired - he undoes the button, and his shirt pops open just under his neck.]
[His instinct is to tell him he doesn't need to be gentle, but he swallows that down, too. Astarion may like that. Gentleness. The vulnerability is hard, it's easy to fall back to aggressive sexual tactics to hide it.]
Experience doesn't matter. Just you being here does.
[Those could be famous last words, perhaps, but in this moment he could care less about that.
He watches his clever fingers open the first button of his shirt, showing a peak of that chest hair Astarion inexplicably enjoys pressing his cheek into. However, he doesn't want to be so pefunctory as this, undressing in front of each other as though they were about to turn in rather than have sex. So he leans in, murmuring a soft, "Come here, darling," before he kisses him once more. Still soft, affectionate, but with a new heat behind it. His hands take the place of Taryon's, quickly undoing one button after another until the last one is reached. Cautiously, as if this touch could scare Taryon away like a skittish wild animal, he spreads his hands on his torso, pushing his shirt open.]
[Before Taryon can reach the second button, he interrupted by a quiet call for his lips. His undressing himself will have to wait; Astarion is priority. These lips that expertly worked around his finger are slow and gentle here - a juxtaposition that goes so well with the rest of him: gentle and kind deep down despite his sensual tastes. Both are lovely. Both are wonderful.
Taryon affectionally nuzzles into Astarion's cheek when he feels hands work his shirt. There are points where he believes he feels the tips of his fingers on his chest, mere samplings of what he hopes will come. Can Astarion work his dextrous hands on him like he works a dagger? His body warms up softly. Their heads pressed together as if they were cuddling before a sleep, and there, slowly, two hands exposing himself to the air.]
May I...? [Taryon finds the hem of Astarion's shirt, pulling it out of his trousers, and works the bottom button. From up here, it's difficult to take a peek at Astarion's level of enjoyment, but he methodically works up his shirt, and with each undone connection, he rakes his fingers upward.]
[It already felt different. New. A kiss could turn into a caress of lips to cheek in place of fingers that are busy elsewhere, a gentle press of a nose to temple, mustache and beard tickling, before kisses would resume, whether on the mouth or not.
It's already overwhelming, and he doesn't even have his shirt off.
He hums his consent as he drags his hands up Taryon's chest, pushing his shirt from his shoulders and down his arms, leaving the rest of its removal up to him. Taryon may be unable to see his face, but Astarion's pleasure can be felt through the shivers he gives when the human's hands touch his bare chest, how he presses an open-mouthed, breathy kiss near his ear.]
[It's slow, romantic, something straight out of a novel. It has been years since he last was like this with a man he considered a friend, only this time, the anxiety of being discovered is greatly lessened. He can stop his fingers to allow the kiss on his ear to fully heat him up, to listen to the wind beckoning him to adventure.
Taryon is more experienced this time around, and he knows how to trace the contours of the muscles on Astarion's chest as he continues working. One button undone, more exploration. Another button, and he draws a circle around a nipple.
He sighs and leans into Astarion's kiss. As Taryon undoes the final buttons, his half-lidded eyes watch the hazy image of the exposed pecs that beg to he touched.
He pushes the shirt off his shoulders, reciprocating Astarion's efforts, and rests a hand on a pec, pressing his thumb into the skin.] Do you like this?
[Touched, like this. Something Taryon wonders was ever genuinely answered by Astarion. He has to start somewhere. Someone has to treat him right.]
...Wow, you're...I can feel a good bit of muscle under there.
[A finger so close to a sensitive spot makes his breath catch, his own fingers pausing and twitching as he explores Taryon's shoulders before they continue on their way up Taryon's neck, thumbs running along his jaw as they kiss once more.]
I do...
[He moans in reply, letting his shirt drop behind him to the bed, arching his back to press his chest into the calloused hand. It feels nice, being explored, appreciated--
--and then Taryon says that. He pulls back, eyebrows raised in surprise.]
I may be no barbarian, but...!
[He can't even decide if he is confused or offended, so his voice comes out as a squawk.]
[Taryon lets his arms go slack as they kiss. There's a certain joy in letting another take over while you relax, he's found.
His other hand joins in on feeling up Astarion's chest. Gods, it's wonderful to admire another man's physique.] I never really though about how involved your exercises must be to use a knife. It's subtle, but it's there.
[And maybe Taryon is just using this as an excuse to wipe his palms over his chest. It's allowed, they're going to have sex.]
[He relaxes, chuckling at both Taryon and himself, looking down to watch as the hands feel over the planes of his chest. His nipples, already piqued, stiffen further under the touches.]
I also do archery, I'll have you know. [He slides a hand up one of Taryon's arms until it hooks gently at the nape of his neck. With a small pull, he urges him to lay down with him as he shifts onto the bed, shoes already toed off. He rests on his side, waiting, looking up at him through his eyelashes.]
How elegant of you. [Not a surprise, considering his use of the crossbow in recent fights, but still impressive to hear.
Never has lying down on a bed been this thrilling: a promise of more than cuddling and kissing swells an invisible balloon in his chest, and once his head hits the pillow, he cannot find any motivation to fall asleep. His eyes are wide open in his eager to take in all of Astarion, who is available and willing to be looked at. Taryon thinks of himself as being a bit of a scoundrel in the moment, admiring the physicality of a bare man, how his lips curl as his smiles, the eyes that tempt carnal thoughts out into the open.]
Taryon lays a hand on Astarion's cheek.] How do you want me to touch you? [Taryon's eyes want everything. They want his fingers to trace his outline. They want their bodies pressed together. They want to see Astarion's arousal met his own. Yet here, lying so peacefully, he would be a crude philistine to ruin this moment of peace with an impatient handling.]
[It was hard to tell if Taryon was excited for a new toy or for sex, such was the sheer exuberance on his face. He was quite a precious man, wasn't he?
Taryon looking him over isn't terrible. He doesn't feel put off, doesn't feel his mind shut down to ignore feeling like a slab of meat. It feels nice, to see someone he cares about, who he wants physically as well, viewing him the same way Astarion is him. It helps he can still sense the affection in Taryon's behaviour, and when he places his hand on his cheek, the touch soft and assuring, this fact only sinks in more.
It was odd to be asked that, however. He doesn't know how to answer, and it almost makes him anxious, but the warm hand on his cheek calms him. He shifts closer, until he has to mix his feet with Taryon's and he can feel his breath ghost his face.]
Like this is good for the moment.
[He illustrates by resting his own hand on Taryon's side, rubbing slowly down his ribs to his hip, and back up.]
Touch me as you would like, anywhere you like. [A pliant kiss to Taryon's lips, quick but wanting.] Find the spots that make us both squirm and gasp quietly until our passion can't be contained.
[And another kiss as his hand trails down again, this time his fingertips trailing off at the dip in Taryon's hip that disappears into his trousers.]
[The response is the least anxiety-inducing command Taryon could have received.] Like this is fine. [He strokes Astarion's cheek, sometimes dipping past his jawline, but standing on the shoreline of a deep ocean is no less uplifting that diving into dark, dangerous waters. Their appearances aren't tousled from a romp, and Taryon can feel himself strain against the fabric of his trousers just from eyeing Astarion's top half.
A simple touch - between legs, a soft kiss - already heats him, and he hopes it's warming Astarion just as much.
And he can only nod in response when a hand passes over his waist and ghosts away from his hip. If this is a game to see who can make the first squirm, Astarion has already won.
He initiates a new kiss, this time stroking Astarion's arm to get a good feel of the muscles there. A lean, but firm figure he finds. Not a warrior's strength that can hold him in a storm, but something with a hidden ability. He ends with a single finger brushing the back of Astarion's hand, then returns it to his chest.
Though they are pressed closer together, he managed to rub it down the midline of his torso, over his stomach, the stops just below the belly button.]
[He practically has his eyes closed like a contented cat as Taryon strokes his cheek, his neck, unwilling to close them all the way for fear of missing out on a particular look on Taryon's face as he explores Astarion with touch and sight.
So easily was Astarion aroused in these past several minutes, just from simple kisses and tender touches. The most lewd thing done to him so far was a finger near a nipple, and yet his cock was aching for Taryon's attention. The beautiful thing was, however, that Astarion was in no rush to get it over with.
He returns the kiss, pressing hungry lips to hungry lips, body tingling as Taryon traces down his arm--just his arm!--and causing him to squirm as well. But when that hand stops below his navel, so tantalizingly close, he groans encouragingly, hips rolling slightly into the touch thoughtlessly, and he parts his lips, tongue swiping over Taryon's lower lip. Begging.]
[Weeks ago, the tongue on his lip threw Taryon out of the mood. Here...he wants more. He wants the rolling hips and the moans from before, even if a messy kiss is the most frightening of all prospects.
He angles his head downward to break the kiss - ] Be slow, please. [If he will try something new, he doesn't have to rush into it and come out shaking. It had taken a lot, but that was a lesson Taryon had to integrate into his philosophy quickly.
His eyes gaze upward, pleading.] You know I'm not all that experienced.
[And Astarion is good with inexperienced people. He knows for a fact; he wants to be taught by an expert and find instant mastery of the skills of lovemaking.
His wandering hand now holding Astarion's hip, which soon slips behind his thigh as he leans into the new kiss, parting his mouth a crack and exhaling hot air before taking Astarion's lips once more.]
[He had lost himself for a moment there, maybe seemed like he was pushing for more too fast. He is happy to take his time, however, guide Taryon... He smiles at him reassuringly, brushing hair back from his face.]
You're doing quite well so far. Half of this is just following the music of your desires without worrying if you know the steps to the waltz.
[air was astounding how Taryon skipping over his arse to grab his thigh was somehow sexier than if he had gone right for it. He responds to it by shifting the thigh forward, overlapping Taryon's leg, bringing their crotches dangerously close together.
at the same time, he feels Taryon's living breath on his lips before their mouths meet again, and this time the man's is an invitation to enter. The best way to teach him would be to show him, and so he eases the tip of his tongue in. Slow and careful. Like approaching a skittish animal. He flicks it over Taryon's tongue once, then more slow, tasting him.]
[Taryon is throbbing between his legs. If they can kiss just a bit longer, if he can rub his hand down and up the back of Astarion's thigh, could their arousals grow enough to meet in the middle?
Probably, considering how his hair being brushed back and a slight bit of praise warms him up. Despite the lack of a shirt, it seems that the air conditioning has stopped working. That will have to be addressed later, after Taryon tries this new kiss.
It's wet...different. Where a cock is often dry save for a string of leakage and hardened, a tongue teasing his lips is wet and flexible. It has a mind of its own, but it has Astarion's saliva on it, just like any deep kiss - so why be bothered? It kind of tickles.
Taryon cracks open more of his mouth, signaling Astarion that this is going well. It barely makes it past his lips when he senses a light flick on his own tongue. His shoulder jump, but he tightens his hold on Astarion's thigh, pulling it upward and closer.
As Astarion licks him again, Taryon raises the tip of his tongue to meet him. It's a bizarre sensation, one that he's got to try more often to figure out how he feels about it, but it's not bad. It's not terrifying when they go slowly, as long as their contact is minimal.
He hums something small into their mouths, as the two shyly touch each other by slightly probing one another, but it's plenty enough to inspire Taryon for more. If Astarion wants to be touched, he should be touched. Tary's hand now slides upward, feeling up the form of a leg until it rests under a buttock to squeeze the round form from beneath.]
[He groans into the kiss as his leg is pulled closer, and hooks his calf around Taryon's leg. A roll one way or another would finally bring their hips together, but Astarion doesn't know which way he wants it to go. He's too distracted, anyway, concentrating on how Taryon reacts to the kissing. His tongue greets his, bashful, and it's utterly adorable. It does remind him of Sebastian, but less hurried, as Taryon is in no danger after all. Astarion cups his cheek, fingers sinking into the thick blond strands that drape over his ear, his tongue circling around Taryon's like a close, slow dance.]
Mm!
[Another sound, this time as his arse is suddenly squeezed, and a new shock of pleasure shoots through him. It feels nice, yes, but the way Taryon did it, an act of domination but not like that. Not annoying or frightening. Astarion wants to melt.
His mind made up, he breaks the kiss with a little suck to Taryon's tongue and rolls onto his back, using his hooked leg and hand at the back of his head to urge Taryon to roll on top of him.]
[Taryon chases Astarion's face as his tongue pulls out, but the end to their exploration is not a net loss. Astarion now lays on his back, with his head resting on a pillow and his hair splayed around him in wavy silvery rays. The next step to take is clear. Astarion would be exquisite when viewed from above, and even Taryon can sense from the tugging that's what Astarion wants, too.
He lifts himself onto his elbows and rolls onto his hands and knees, one leg between the elf's and their crotches a mere inch from touching. His golden locks fall and frame his head against the low light of the ceiling lamp, darkening his view. It's still enough for his wandering gaze to take in the lines of his face, the smile, the warm eyes, the wrists that could easily be grabbed, and too many options to pick in one night.]
I'm so...I can't wait to finally have this— mm! [In his effor to lean in for another kiss, his legs slide and lower his body. A hardened bulge lowers itself onto Astarion's, pumping it until it strains against the fabric of his trousers.]
[Taryon looks quite good over him like this. The light above lit his hair like a halo, making the color more golden than typical, and his blue eyes are still shining with excitement, but the pupils wider with lust. One of the carefully styled ends of his moustache was askew. Astarion's stomach does a grossly happy flip just looking at him from this new perspective. Gods, he was happy, wasn't he?
Both his hands reach to cup Taryon's face, head lifting to meet him for that kiss--]
Ah!
[That wasn't a particularly good yelp this time around. He twists under him to get some of the weight off his crotch, but not enough to roll over or throw Taryon off.]
Gods, Tary! Let me at least orgasm once before you break it!
[Taryon rises and quickly falls onto his stomach with a small "oof" as he hits the bedsheets. Now his dick struck something hard and uncomfortable: Astarion's hip bone.]
Oh, fuck! [He rolls onto his side and hisses while pressing his hand into the injured spot on his crotch.] Shit, shit, shit shit shit.
[It registers that Astarion just touched his dick - no, squeezed it, and the pain was more concerning than the very first moment his boyfriend pushed their relationship into sexual territory.
He sits up and keeps his hand on his crotch.] That's alright. I don't mind! You, um, have sharp bones, is all.
[They were doing so well until now. Taryon is still hard, but Astarion might not be in the mood anymore.]
Just asking. [Taryon lifts his hand from his crotch, and seeing no bleeding or immediately distressing signs, he sits back with his legs spread.]
Hoooh, boy. [Relief: from the pain, and from the knowledge that he ruined this night.] Just- give me a moment. I...
[He reaches to undo his belt, but pauses. Opening up his trousers could help, but he must recall: that's his boyfriend right there. His boyfriend who wants to see him naked. The boyfriend who wants to have sex.
Taryon holds out a hand.] That "concerned grope" you did earlier - could we...? Will that help if I do that?
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And it will be great, if Astarion drinking his blood affected him already. His heart pounds thinking of Astarion's bare chest that he saw at the hotel, wondering what it would be like to be treated by an expert lover...but theres one remaining concern he has.]
...What about your injuries? I'm not--!! [He takes Astarion's waist in his free hand.] I'm not trying to excuse myself! Well, sure, I'm a bit nervous, I'm not like...alright, it's a big step. But you did get injured a lot back there.
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It takes a great surge of his will not to laugh bitterly and remark he has fucked through worse, and instead just titters lightly.]
I'm fine, I promise. My, uh, stamina might be limited but I don't think you'll mind.
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Alright. Alright. [He could always offer another drink if his injuries act up...and it would maintain his own arousal. A win-win situation. Taryon finally exhales and smiles at this bit of assurance that he won't hurt his boyfriend.]
...I'll be gentle. We'll be gentle. Whatever we end up doing. [He hopes he hasn't misplaced the non-flavored condoms if it goes into that direction.] I...should warn you that I really don't know what I'm doing most of the time.
[His fingers grab onto the top of his shirt and fingers the top button. At least he knows the first step is to be desired - he undoes the button, and his shirt pops open just under his neck.]
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Experience doesn't matter. Just you being here does.
[Those could be famous last words, perhaps, but in this moment he could care less about that.
He watches his clever fingers open the first button of his shirt, showing a peak of that chest hair Astarion inexplicably enjoys pressing his cheek into. However, he doesn't want to be so pefunctory as this, undressing in front of each other as though they were about to turn in rather than have sex. So he leans in, murmuring a soft, "Come here, darling," before he kisses him once more. Still soft, affectionate, but with a new heat behind it. His hands take the place of Taryon's, quickly undoing one button after another until the last one is reached. Cautiously, as if this touch could scare Taryon away like a skittish wild animal, he spreads his hands on his torso, pushing his shirt open.]
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Taryon affectionally nuzzles into Astarion's cheek when he feels hands work his shirt. There are points where he believes he feels the tips of his fingers on his chest, mere samplings of what he hopes will come. Can Astarion work his dextrous hands on him like he works a dagger? His body warms up softly. Their heads pressed together as if they were cuddling before a sleep, and there, slowly, two hands exposing himself to the air.]
May I...? [Taryon finds the hem of Astarion's shirt, pulling it out of his trousers, and works the bottom button. From up here, it's difficult to take a peek at Astarion's level of enjoyment, but he methodically works up his shirt, and with each undone connection, he rakes his fingers upward.]
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It's already overwhelming, and he doesn't even have his shirt off.
He hums his consent as he drags his hands up Taryon's chest, pushing his shirt from his shoulders and down his arms, leaving the rest of its removal up to him. Taryon may be unable to see his face, but Astarion's pleasure can be felt through the shivers he gives when the human's hands touch his bare chest, how he presses an open-mouthed, breathy kiss near his ear.]
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Taryon is more experienced this time around, and he knows how to trace the contours of the muscles on Astarion's chest as he continues working. One button undone, more exploration. Another button, and he draws a circle around a nipple.
He sighs and leans into Astarion's kiss. As Taryon undoes the final buttons, his half-lidded eyes watch the hazy image of the exposed pecs that beg to he touched.
He pushes the shirt off his shoulders, reciprocating Astarion's efforts, and rests a hand on a pec, pressing his thumb into the skin.] Do you like this?
[Touched, like this. Something Taryon wonders was ever genuinely answered by Astarion. He has to start somewhere. Someone has to treat him right.]
...Wow, you're...I can feel a good bit of muscle under there.
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I do...
[He moans in reply, letting his shirt drop behind him to the bed, arching his back to press his chest into the calloused hand. It feels nice, being explored, appreciated--
--and then Taryon says that. He pulls back, eyebrows raised in surprise.]
I may be no barbarian, but...!
[He can't even decide if he is confused or offended, so his voice comes out as a squawk.]
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His other hand joins in on feeling up Astarion's chest. Gods, it's wonderful to admire another man's physique.] I never really though about how involved your exercises must be to use a knife. It's subtle, but it's there.
[And maybe Taryon is just using this as an excuse to wipe his palms over his chest. It's allowed, they're going to have sex.]
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I also do archery, I'll have you know. [He slides a hand up one of Taryon's arms until it hooks gently at the nape of his neck. With a small pull, he urges him to lay down with him as he shifts onto the bed, shoes already toed off. He rests on his side, waiting, looking up at him through his eyelashes.]
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Never has lying down on a bed been this thrilling: a promise of more than cuddling and kissing swells an invisible balloon in his chest, and once his head hits the pillow, he cannot find any motivation to fall asleep. His eyes are wide open in his eager to take in all of Astarion, who is available and willing to be looked at. Taryon thinks of himself as being a bit of a scoundrel in the moment, admiring the physicality of a bare man, how his lips curl as his smiles, the eyes that tempt carnal thoughts out into the open.]
Taryon lays a hand on Astarion's cheek.] How do you want me to touch you? [Taryon's eyes want everything. They want his fingers to trace his outline. They want their bodies pressed together. They want to see Astarion's arousal met his own. Yet here, lying so peacefully, he would be a crude philistine to ruin this moment of peace with an impatient handling.]
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Taryon looking him over isn't terrible. He doesn't feel put off, doesn't feel his mind shut down to ignore feeling like a slab of meat. It feels nice, to see someone he cares about, who he wants physically as well, viewing him the same way Astarion is him. It helps he can still sense the affection in Taryon's behaviour, and when he places his hand on his cheek, the touch soft and assuring, this fact only sinks in more.
It was odd to be asked that, however. He doesn't know how to answer, and it almost makes him anxious, but the warm hand on his cheek calms him. He shifts closer, until he has to mix his feet with Taryon's and he can feel his breath ghost his face.]
Like this is good for the moment.
[He illustrates by resting his own hand on Taryon's side, rubbing slowly down his ribs to his hip, and back up.]
Touch me as you would like, anywhere you like. [A pliant kiss to Taryon's lips, quick but wanting.] Find the spots that make us both squirm and gasp quietly until our passion can't be contained.
[And another kiss as his hand trails down again, this time his fingertips trailing off at the dip in Taryon's hip that disappears into his trousers.]
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A simple touch - between legs, a soft kiss - already heats him, and he hopes it's warming Astarion just as much.
And he can only nod in response when a hand passes over his waist and ghosts away from his hip. If this is a game to see who can make the first squirm, Astarion has already won.
He initiates a new kiss, this time stroking Astarion's arm to get a good feel of the muscles there. A lean, but firm figure he finds. Not a warrior's strength that can hold him in a storm, but something with a hidden ability. He ends with a single finger brushing the back of Astarion's hand, then returns it to his chest.
Though they are pressed closer together, he managed to rub it down the midline of his torso, over his stomach, the stops just below the belly button.]
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So easily was Astarion aroused in these past several minutes, just from simple kisses and tender touches. The most lewd thing done to him so far was a finger near a nipple, and yet his cock was aching for Taryon's attention. The beautiful thing was, however, that Astarion was in no rush to get it over with.
He returns the kiss, pressing hungry lips to hungry lips, body tingling as Taryon traces down his arm--just his arm!--and causing him to squirm as well. But when that hand stops below his navel, so tantalizingly close, he groans encouragingly, hips rolling slightly into the touch thoughtlessly, and he parts his lips, tongue swiping over Taryon's lower lip. Begging.]
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He angles his head downward to break the kiss - ] Be slow, please. [If he will try something new, he doesn't have to rush into it and come out shaking. It had taken a lot, but that was a lesson Taryon had to integrate into his philosophy quickly.
His eyes gaze upward, pleading.] You know I'm not all that experienced.
[And Astarion is good with inexperienced people. He knows for a fact; he wants to be taught by an expert and find instant mastery of the skills of lovemaking.
His wandering hand now holding Astarion's hip, which soon slips behind his thigh as he leans into the new kiss, parting his mouth a crack and exhaling hot air before taking Astarion's lips once more.]
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[He had lost himself for a moment there, maybe seemed like he was pushing for more too fast. He is happy to take his time, however, guide Taryon... He smiles at him reassuringly, brushing hair back from his face.]
You're doing quite well so far. Half of this is just following the music of your desires without worrying if you know the steps to the waltz.
[air was astounding how Taryon skipping over his arse to grab his thigh was somehow sexier than if he had gone right for it. He responds to it by shifting the thigh forward, overlapping Taryon's leg, bringing their crotches dangerously close together.
at the same time, he feels Taryon's living breath on his lips before their mouths meet again, and this time the man's is an invitation to enter. The best way to teach him would be to show him, and so he eases the tip of his tongue in. Slow and careful. Like approaching a skittish animal. He flicks it over Taryon's tongue once, then more slow, tasting him.]
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Probably, considering how his hair being brushed back and a slight bit of praise warms him up. Despite the lack of a shirt, it seems that the air conditioning has stopped working. That will have to be addressed later, after Taryon tries this new kiss.
It's wet...different. Where a cock is often dry save for a string of leakage and hardened, a tongue teasing his lips is wet and flexible. It has a mind of its own, but it has Astarion's saliva on it, just like any deep kiss - so why be bothered? It kind of tickles.
Taryon cracks open more of his mouth, signaling Astarion that this is going well. It barely makes it past his lips when he senses a light flick on his own tongue. His shoulder jump, but he tightens his hold on Astarion's thigh, pulling it upward and closer.
As Astarion licks him again, Taryon raises the tip of his tongue to meet him. It's a bizarre sensation, one that he's got to try more often to figure out how he feels about it, but it's not bad. It's not terrifying when they go slowly, as long as their contact is minimal.
He hums something small into their mouths, as the two shyly touch each other by slightly probing one another, but it's plenty enough to inspire Taryon for more. If Astarion wants to be touched, he should be touched. Tary's hand now slides upward, feeling up the form of a leg until it rests under a buttock to squeeze the round form from beneath.]
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[He groans into the kiss as his leg is pulled closer, and hooks his calf around Taryon's leg. A roll one way or another would finally bring their hips together, but Astarion doesn't know which way he wants it to go. He's too distracted, anyway, concentrating on how Taryon reacts to the kissing. His tongue greets his, bashful, and it's utterly adorable. It does remind him of Sebastian, but less hurried, as Taryon is in no danger after all. Astarion cups his cheek, fingers sinking into the thick blond strands that drape over his ear, his tongue circling around Taryon's like a close, slow dance.]
Mm!
[Another sound, this time as his arse is suddenly squeezed, and a new shock of pleasure shoots through him. It feels nice, yes, but the way Taryon did it, an act of domination but not like that. Not annoying or frightening. Astarion wants to melt.
His mind made up, he breaks the kiss with a little suck to Taryon's tongue and rolls onto his back, using his hooked leg and hand at the back of his head to urge Taryon to roll on top of him.]
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He lifts himself onto his elbows and rolls onto his hands and knees, one leg between the elf's and their crotches a mere inch from touching. His golden locks fall and frame his head against the low light of the ceiling lamp, darkening his view. It's still enough for his wandering gaze to take in the lines of his face, the smile, the warm eyes, the wrists that could easily be grabbed, and too many options to pick in one night.]
I'm so...I can't wait to finally have this— mm! [In his effor to lean in for another kiss, his legs slide and lower his body. A hardened bulge lowers itself onto Astarion's, pumping it until it strains against the fabric of his trousers.]
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Both his hands reach to cup Taryon's face, head lifting to meet him for that kiss--]
Ah!
[That wasn't a particularly good yelp this time around. He twists under him to get some of the weight off his crotch, but not enough to roll over or throw Taryon off.]
Gods, Tary! Let me at least orgasm once before you break it!
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Oh, fuck! [He rolls onto his side and hisses while pressing his hand into the injured spot on his crotch.] Shit, shit, shit shit shit.
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[He exclaims, automatically reaching forward and likewise pressing his hand to Taryon's crotch, as if that would help with the pain.]
Oh, shit, uh--
[He swiftly pulls his hand away.]
That was a concerned grope.
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[It registers that Astarion just touched his dick - no, squeezed it, and the pain was more concerning than the very first moment his boyfriend pushed their relationship into sexual territory.
He sits up and keeps his hand on his crotch.] That's alright. I don't mind! You, um, have sharp bones, is all.
[They were doing so well until now. Taryon is still hard, but Astarion might not be in the mood anymore.]
...Are you...still up for doing stuff?
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[He retorts. Too proud to put a soothing hand on his own junk, he just shifts one way then the other.]
What?
[He blinks at him dumbly, not expecting that question.]
Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?
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Hoooh, boy. [Relief: from the pain, and from the knowledge that he ruined this night.] Just- give me a moment. I...
[He reaches to undo his belt, but pauses. Opening up his trousers could help, but he must recall: that's his boyfriend right there. His boyfriend who wants to see him naked. The boyfriend who wants to have sex.
Taryon holds out a hand.] That "concerned grope" you did earlier - could we...? Will that help if I do that?
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