[He gasps in reply to that targeted touch under his prick's head, hips jumping into his hand once, twice.
He wraps an arm under and around Taryon, hand splaying on his lower back and pressing on it every time Taryon rubs against his thigh. His free hand slides up the mattress to touch his own face, fingers partially covering his mouth as his moans become more frequent.]
[The hand on his lower back somehow riles him more than their bodies squeezing his cock, and Taryon's panting is sprinkled with small moans while he storkes himself, strokes Astarion, ruts against him, watches his face change, hears him sing music that shoots into his ears and straight downward.
He feels himself start to lose himself, but he doesn't want to. Not now, not when he can almost see Astarion fall apart. He drops his head in an attempt to kiss the corner of his mouth, but the inaccurate landing turns it into a wet smack on his cheek.]
Mmh-- Please. [He raises his hips to wrap his leg around Astarion's and puts full force onto his length. Rubbing himself, thumbing the tip, he quietly begs for Astarion to finish.]
[He moves his hand to kiss Taryon, but he misses and gets his cheek. Astarion chuckles breathlessly, which seamlessly turns into another airy groan. He buries both hands into Taryon's hair, gripping the back of his head to keep his face near. His mustache and beard tickles his face, his breath is hot and moist against his cheek. Astarion touches his lips near Taryon's ear, filling it with his own pants and passionate sounds.
The way Taryon ruts against him now, how his hand jerks his cock with more abandon, he can tell he wants to come--wants Astarion to come--but would he truly be satisfied with just this? In Taryon's ear, he whimpers:]
[He slows his hand and his hips, but he's not able to stop himself from periodically pressing his hips into the pale flesh.]
I-- I don't think I can last long enough... [He pulls his head back with his own pupils are blown wide open and strands of hair cling to his face. They were so close, or at least Taryon was. How could Astarion say that he was low on stamina when he can ask for more?]
Ah, but if that's what you want... [It's not about him. It's about making Astarion happy. It's easier to be inside someone than to open up to someone else, and he's not going to ruin something good for his boyfriend. He lets go of Astarion's cock, letting it hang stiffly in the air while he cups the underside of the unpinned thigh and raises it.]
[He does want it. The thought of them being joined fills him with a fire of desire he hasn't felt in centuries.
However, he doesn't want it to end within seconds. And as he lays there, as Taryon lifts his leg with gentleness, he can tell his own body is tired. Very tired.
But...]
You're happy with it if we don't? Not for now, at least.
Oh thank god. [Of course Astarion would come back for me. He came back even after Taryon told him to keep away. Going through levels of intimacy at a slow pace is nothing compared to a fight.
He lowers himself to kiss his lips. It's more controlled than the wild, deperate wet kiss just seconds earlier.]
...I love this a lot. [He takes Astarion in his hand once again and strokes downard, then cups his balls.] I get to hold you like a priceless gem.
[Sounds like Astarion made the right call. Nothing worse than stressed out anal sex, Taryon can relax again.
He wraps his arms loosely around his neck as he kisses him, sighing happily through his nose as they do. He shudders under him as his cock is taken up, and a tiny whimper sounds at the back of his throat as his balls are handled once more. Taryon must really be enamoured with that body part, not that Astarion minds--hes rather fond of it being fondled, after all.]
...And I love being held like one.
[That ridiculous comparison, how dare it make Astarion's heart skip a beat.]
[A warm hum eminates from Taryon's throat. He's precious. Too precious. He rubs his palm under Astarion's scrotum, too afraid that squeezing it will damage it, but desiring to simply feel its weight in his hand.
And it's fun to hold. Hopefully Astarion doesn't doesn't mind.
He slides his hand back onto the shaft, and with it, he slides himself along Astarion's leg. Taryon sighs and rests his head by Astarion's ear. From time to time, as his cock twitches, he puffs a short, hot breath to the rhythm of his hand moving up and down.]
[Astarion's pale arms wind around Taryon again, one around his neck, the other his waist to put his hand on his lower back, the same as before. He holds him close, growing more fervent for the proximity of the man he holds great affection for. Who holds affection for him in return. He wishes this could go on for hours or days or years, while simultaneously craving both their orgasms. He wants to hear how he sounds as he loses himself, see his face, feel how his body trembles.
Astarion's breath matches the tempo of Taryon's, the puffs of air glancing over his sweaty cheek and playing in messy strands of hair. He turns his head to nuzzle against his skin, a particularly long moan escaping him as his whole body undulates under Taryon's weight.]
Gods, you feel so good just against my leg... I can't wait to feel you in my mouth... Or deep inside me...
[Taryon moans directly into his ear. Imagine that - that tight mouth sucking him, feeling Astarion around him, maybe later, maybe later...
He shiver and writhes at the thought, and a dab of wetness spreads where his cock meets Astarion's hips. His hand tightens and slides upward to play with the tip again, just as before, just before they were interrupted, like they could fall into a magical tempo as if they were meant to be.]
Ah...Can you...I want to feel you. [He gasps after a particularly long moan, feeling as if he is not long for this world.]
[Astarion's mind is full with similar visions, wondering how good it will feel, and not just physically.
His own cock has been leaking pre for a time, and it covers Taryon's fingers as they return to toy with the flushed head. His body rocks under him, both from the sensations and trying to help the man by pressing his thigh rhythmically against his erection.]
[He grinds his teeth together at that, arching under him. What he said would be amusing if he wasn't so close to the edge. He does have enough wherewithal to tease, in a hoarse growl:]
[He presses down on Astarion's head with his thumb as he leaks further. By all that is holy, where did he find that growl that shot straight into Taryon's cock? Even when on top, Astarion has him beat in everything.]
Come. Come, please. [His hand movements are erratically; there's little self-control remaining inside Taryon if he can spit out those dirty words without shame.]
[Taryon is so desperate. He wants to see Astarion come undone, to see him at the height of pleasure, so much he is withholding his own climax.
There was something utterly sweet about that, that it makes the whole of himself feel, well, loved.
Astarion's hands cling to Taryon, holding on to him as he feels himself teeter over the edge again and again, until that "please" pushes him over. His hips jerk into his hand as he spills, over and over, across his stomach and Taryon's hand. The sound he makes is a strangled cry as he presses his mouth against Taryon's cheek.]
[Taryon doesn't last long enough to witness the full natural phenomena of Astarion falling apart. Once he cries out, it's over. Taryon ruts once, twice, and falls over the cliff's edge loudly and suddenly. One second he's watching the most beautiful orgasm he's seeing, the next he feels his soul leap out of his body.
He raises his leg tangled in Astarions and sloppily bucks against him while he rides out his orgasm. His hand's hold slackens; it continues to rub him before relaxing and stilling while Taryon remains floating among the clouds.]
[Taryon's hand doesn't quite stop after Astarion comes, and the extra stimulation is overwhelming. Overwhelming, but decidedly wonderful. The extra sparks of pleasure resulting from it makes witnessing Taryon's own orgasm more exciting, even if all it was was a clumsy, bestial rutting against his thigh. He whispers nonsense encouragement as he rides it out, the hand on his lower back moving to grip his arse to help him buck.
Once it slows, once Taryon's hand stills and once both their cocks stop throbbing, Astarion goes slack under him. He shuts his eyes as he pants, basking in this moment. His body has never felt so good. Sex has never felt so good, and all it was was a handjob. His mind buzzes with the aftermath, unable to formulate concrete ideas or words, just happiness. His lips still on Taryon's cheek gives it a soft kiss.]
[There is no bed, only Astarion. No blanket other than Astarion, no other body than whatever is touching Astarion. The scent of sex doesn't sicken Tary; it's strong and fills everything and tells him that this is perfect. He made love to someone who loves him, someone who wanted this and finished first. His mind has been clear of any doubt that he can ruin any of this. That no one can split them apart.
And he's kissed. He's being kissed and oh, he's so lucky to have someone like this. Someone who has every reason not to try love again but still chose him.
How lucky he is.
Taryon weakly raises his hand to drap his arm across Astarion's come-spattered torso.]
[He shifts under his arm, just enough to curl up against him, cover himself with more of his living warmth. As the endorphins from the sex calms, he begins to feel vulnerable. Still happy, but so naked, metaphorically speaking. The only witness to it is Taryon, and all he wants is that same person to protect him from everything as he's bared so open.]
[He's so tired and wants nothing more than to lay his head on Astarion's bosom. They've shared something so vulnerable and personal together — Taryon doesn't want to leave.
He remembers how many people had to leave Astarion.
He nuzzles his beard against Astarion's cheek, his lips.] I feel better than ever.
[He doesn't think directly about all the people that had been taken after he fucked, he hadn't been attached to them in the first place. But there still is an uneasiness that isn't only about himself. He doesn't want to leave him, and doesn't want Taryon to leave, either. This could be ephemeral. A dream. Taryon could still be mad at him. Taryon may not exist at all. He may wake up back in the Elfsong, return to being lonely, bitter, angry, focused only on vengeance and power no matter the cost.
He smiles at the tickle of his beard, and kisses his jaw.]
Me, too. [He chuckles.] Well, I do feel a little worse for wear, honestly, but only physically speaking.
Just from feeling tired, right? [He rolls his head to tragically pull away from Astarion and gaze at him instead. Hopefully no injuries were reopened or sprains were had. Nothing so bad as mashing their dicks.]
You look...happy. [That means it wad good. It was really good. It means Taryon did a good job, and Astarion isn't afraid like he was in the hotel after he kissed Taryon or in the underworld or after they fought. It's the happy end at the end of a story of challenges and trials.]
[The plasters dotted here or there on his body remain blood free, even if they had reopened there probably wasn't enough to go around as all his reserves rushed to one particular area.]
I'm just very hungry.
[He chuckles, turning so he can see him too. His expression must be exceptionally soft for Taryon to say that. Part of him winces at the thought, but more and more of him is growing used to it. The more time that passes in this world, the expanse that grows between him and his obsession for vengeance back home, the easier it is to think he deserves this. That vengeance can, in fact, wait.]
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He wraps an arm under and around Taryon, hand splaying on his lower back and pressing on it every time Taryon rubs against his thigh. His free hand slides up the mattress to touch his own face, fingers partially covering his mouth as his moans become more frequent.]
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[The hand on his lower back somehow riles him more than their bodies squeezing his cock, and Taryon's panting is sprinkled with small moans while he storkes himself, strokes Astarion, ruts against him, watches his face change, hears him sing music that shoots into his ears and straight downward.
He feels himself start to lose himself, but he doesn't want to. Not now, not when he can almost see Astarion fall apart. He drops his head in an attempt to kiss the corner of his mouth, but the inaccurate landing turns it into a wet smack on his cheek.]
Mmh-- Please. [He raises his hips to wrap his leg around Astarion's and puts full force onto his length. Rubbing himself, thumbing the tip, he quietly begs for Astarion to finish.]
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The way Taryon ruts against him now, how his hand jerks his cock with more abandon, he can tell he wants to come--wants Astarion to come--but would he truly be satisfied with just this? In Taryon's ear, he whimpers:]
I want you inside me...
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[He slows his hand and his hips, but he's not able to stop himself from periodically pressing his hips into the pale flesh.]
I-- I don't think I can last long enough... [He pulls his head back with his own pupils are blown wide open and strands of hair cling to his face. They were so close, or at least Taryon was. How could Astarion say that he was low on stamina when he can ask for more?]
Ah, but if that's what you want... [It's not about him. It's about making Astarion happy. It's easier to be inside someone than to open up to someone else, and he's not going to ruin something good for his boyfriend. He lets go of Astarion's cock, letting it hang stiffly in the air while he cups the underside of the unpinned thigh and raises it.]
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However, he doesn't want it to end within seconds. And as he lays there, as Taryon lifts his leg with gentleness, he can tell his own body is tired. Very tired.
But...]
You're happy with it if we don't? Not for now, at least.
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He nods vigorously.]
Sorry... [No. He has to stop apologizing.] I want to be like this. I want to feel you without having to split apart.
[He lowers Astarion's leg.]
If it's alright with you.
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Yes. I want it, I really do, but later, darling. Right now, this is perfect.
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He lowers himself to kiss his lips. It's more controlled than the wild, deperate wet kiss just seconds earlier.]
...I love this a lot. [He takes Astarion in his hand once again and strokes downard, then cups his balls.] I get to hold you like a priceless gem.
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He wraps his arms loosely around his neck as he kisses him, sighing happily through his nose as they do. He shudders under him as his cock is taken up, and a tiny whimper sounds at the back of his throat as his balls are handled once more. Taryon must really be enamoured with that body part, not that Astarion minds--hes rather fond of it being fondled, after all.]
...And I love being held like one.
[That ridiculous comparison, how dare it make Astarion's heart skip a beat.]
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And it's fun to hold. Hopefully Astarion doesn't doesn't mind.
He slides his hand back onto the shaft, and with it, he slides himself along Astarion's leg. Taryon sighs and rests his head by Astarion's ear. From time to time, as his cock twitches, he puffs a short, hot breath to the rhythm of his hand moving up and down.]
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Astarion's breath matches the tempo of Taryon's, the puffs of air glancing over his sweaty cheek and playing in messy strands of hair. He turns his head to nuzzle against his skin, a particularly long moan escaping him as his whole body undulates under Taryon's weight.]
Gods, you feel so good just against my leg... I can't wait to feel you in my mouth... Or deep inside me...
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He shiver and writhes at the thought, and a dab of wetness spreads where his cock meets Astarion's hips. His hand tightens and slides upward to play with the tip again, just as before, just before they were interrupted, like they could fall into a magical tempo as if they were meant to be.]
Ah...Can you...I want to feel you. [He gasps after a particularly long moan, feeling as if he is not long for this world.]
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His own cock has been leaking pre for a time, and it covers Taryon's fingers as they return to toy with the flushed head. His body rocks under him, both from the sensations and trying to help the man by pressing his thigh rhythmically against his erection.]
Can I...what?
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[His hand shakes. His cock twitches and spurts — not yet, not yet he tells himself. A finger presses into Astarion's slit.]
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Come? You want me to come, ah, first, my sweet?
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[He presses down on Astarion's head with his thumb as he leaks further. By all that is holy, where did he find that growl that shot straight into Taryon's cock? Even when on top, Astarion has him beat in everything.]
Come. Come, please. [His hand movements are erratically; there's little self-control remaining inside Taryon if he can spit out those dirty words without shame.]
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There was something utterly sweet about that, that it makes the whole of himself feel, well, loved.
Astarion's hands cling to Taryon, holding on to him as he feels himself teeter over the edge again and again, until that "please" pushes him over. His hips jerk into his hand as he spills, over and over, across his stomach and Taryon's hand. The sound he makes is a strangled cry as he presses his mouth against Taryon's cheek.]
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He raises his leg tangled in Astarions and sloppily bucks against him while he rides out his orgasm. His hand's hold slackens; it continues to rub him before relaxing and stilling while Taryon remains floating among the clouds.]
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Once it slows, once Taryon's hand stills and once both their cocks stop throbbing, Astarion goes slack under him. He shuts his eyes as he pants, basking in this moment. His body has never felt so good. Sex has never felt so good, and all it was was a handjob. His mind buzzes with the aftermath, unable to formulate concrete ideas or words, just happiness. His lips still on Taryon's cheek gives it a soft kiss.]
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And he's kissed. He's being kissed and oh, he's so lucky to have someone like this. Someone who has every reason not to try love again but still chose him.
How lucky he is.
Taryon weakly raises his hand to drap his arm across Astarion's come-spattered torso.]
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...Can we stay like this? For a moment or two?
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[He's so tired and wants nothing more than to lay his head on Astarion's bosom. They've shared something so vulnerable and personal together — Taryon doesn't want to leave.
He remembers how many people had to leave Astarion.
He nuzzles his beard against Astarion's cheek, his lips.] I feel better than ever.
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He smiles at the tickle of his beard, and kisses his jaw.]
Me, too. [He chuckles.] Well, I do feel a little worse for wear, honestly, but only physically speaking.
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You look...happy. [That means it wad good. It was really good. It means Taryon did a good job, and Astarion isn't afraid like he was in the hotel after he kissed Taryon or in the underworld or after they fought. It's the happy end at the end of a story of challenges and trials.]
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I'm just very hungry.
[He chuckles, turning so he can see him too. His expression must be exceptionally soft for Taryon to say that. Part of him winces at the thought, but more and more of him is growing used to it. The more time that passes in this world, the expanse that grows between him and his obsession for vengeance back home, the easier it is to think he deserves this. That vengeance can, in fact, wait.]
I am happy. You make me very happy.
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