[The emoji gets a small laugh. Taryon can imagine Astarion copying this face while saying what he wrote, just another of his dirty little jokes.
It's cute, even now.
As the hours pass and Taryon delivers his necessities to the Brimstone quarters (and his games and books), the evening arrives and they settle into the bed to play some fighting games.
Astarion has Tary beat in the dexterity department, though the latter is fighting back with his knowledge of all of the character's combos and invincibility frames. Not that Tary is an expert with that, but he's watched enough tutorials that he thought he'd be doing okay.
[Taryon wasn't moving in permanently, obviously, but watching him and his robot bring in what odds and ends Taryon deemed necessary for staying with him for the indefinite future until the disappearances end was...thrilling. Certainly, Astarion has enjoyed having a room all to himself, after centuries living in a room barely bigger than the one LILITH had provided him with his several "siblings", but having the human move in temporarily was a new discovery of happiness. That's what this journey of a relationship with him was, since Astarion has no idea what he wants, what he likes, all he knows is he wanted to be safe and happy, and so far Taryon was meeting those needs.
The bathroom is a bit too cluttered with both their various items, however. That may be a sticking point.
But that was a bridge to cross, probably in the morning. For now it was a night to try and ignore the uncertainty of the current climate, to distract Taryon from his woes and worries about his friend.
They sit on his bed, Astarion dressed in comfortable pants and a loose tank top, playing a fighting game they had been engrossed in lately. Usually when they start a new fighting game, Astarion is the reigning champion right from the start with his quick fingers and reflexes, until Taryon studies up on the game and develops strategies and becomes a challenge. Astarion didn't have the attention span to read guides on the games they play, and honestly the thought never crosses his mind to look them up online, he merely stumbles upon combos and other secrets by sheer lucky of his button pushing, and it's always exciting when he manages to make one of the characters do something wild. Especially when the move winds up utterly destroying Taryon's character.
But right now, he's being a horrid little troll of a player and camping out in the corner of the screen, doing lower leg sweep after lower leg sweep, keeping Taryon from being able to reach him. His chuckling is absolutely diabolical.]
[No longer in the possession of silk pajamas, Taryon has soft synthetic fabrics that protect him from the cold and are dyed a soft blue. He spent a bit of extra money on something thick with sleeves that he could roll up for partaking in diversions. And so it didn't look like he was socializing in extremely casual clothing.
His preference are the story-dense strategy games - role-playing, they call it. A wonderful fantasy-filled genre that unfortunately involves a lot of fights across the terrain and more dialogue than action. Unless Astarion wanted to watch pixelated people and listen to Taryon read out all of the text, then an alternative would be required for both to have any fun.
And each time, he's talked into a fighting game. Taryon is seated beside Astarion, legs crossed and brow furrowed in concentration as no matter what attack comb he comes at the woman crouching at the bottom of the screen, her kicks are timed perfectly to throw Taryon's character back in a dramatic arc.] Let me get one hit in, please!
[On the verge of givin up, Taryon camps at the opposide side of the screen and spams one of the taunt buttoms.
Little is he aware that in another universe, he would be following Astarion's strategy in a 5-way battle royale. It's only annoying when on the receiving end.]
[Watching someone else play a game, Astarion had learned, was extremely boring, and so he did make Taryon play fighting games with him, sometimes platformers that allowed for 2 players but the elf was particularly enamored with the fighting games.
However, under their new relationship status, perhaps Taryon could play those games he loves while Astarion lazed about with his head pillowed in his lap? That would distract him enough from the tedium...
Astarion laughs, watching Taryon's oversized beef slab of a character taunts him over and over. He stops with the leg sweeps and moves back into the center of the ring, cooing to Taryon:]
I'm sorry, darling, here come get your free punch.
[And, of course, as soon as he was near, Astarion does a leg sweep.]
[Astarion will have to be introduced to the Let's Play genre if he will ever change his mind. And if he does, then he must be stopped before he gains too much power.
As of now, Taryon is badly losing the fight, and with this obvious trap, he's stuck. Well, there's nothing else he can do. His character makes a flying leap at Astarion's, prepares a punch mid-air--
And is knocked back again.] Seriously?! [He turns to Astarion and pouts. It's really not fair, even when they're dating, he won't let Taryon have a fair chance in beating him out of the love in his heart.]
How are you this good? [He jumps up, practices a combo from the edge of the screen as he ignores the flashing health bar on top, then has an idea. When he glared at Astarion for a second, the elf seemed distracted by his face. It's not feasible to look at him during the entire fight, but if he could just...
Taryon scoots until he and Astarion are pressed together at their sides, wraps and arm around his narrow waist, and grips the other end of the controller. This has his turn into Astarion to comfortably hold it, but it does the job, and Tary leaps at his enemy with a high kick.]
[Oh, Taryon, you must sweeten the deal if you want Astarion to let you win a game. You must be far less cute when you pout angrily at him, too. He grins smugly, if somehow fondly, at him as Taryon grumpily practices his combos, unawares Taryon was trying to formulate a plan based on this new weakness of his.
A new weakness! He thinks Taryon, despite being cranky at him, still wants to sit next close to him. Clearly just a sweet little physical affection that the romantic that is the human wants to do--
--betrayal! The arm going around him suddenly startles him enough on its own, then he's squeezed and both his heart is leaping into his throat and his elbow is jostled hard enough he drops his controller.]
Sh-Shit--
[It tumbles just out of reach if he doesn't want to break out of the hold, and to be honest he doesn't, but he still cries out in distress as his lithe (except for her ridiculously large bust) lady of a character gets kicked right in the face.]
It's a strategy! [Just like camping and spamming attacks is. With the added bonus of Astarion dropping his controller (which he honestly didn't count on. Point to Taryon.), there's no way he can lose. Taryon beats on Astarion's character over and over again, who makes no effort to block, dodge of counterattack. At last, their health bars are reaching equality.]
Looks like you can't get beat me this time, Astarion!
[The body in his arms isn't hurting either. It's like getting a victory hug from the handsome village youth at the end of a quest.]
[He declares, affronted, with all the energy of a theatre kid.
He could reach his controller if he swept it closer with his leg, but this insult must be punished much harsher than just winning one paltry fight in a video game. He twists in Taryon's hold, pushing himself up against him in the opposite direction with hopes to tip him onto the bed, and he goes in for the throat like a true vampire.
Oh, the immediate instinct to bite was there, but with a playful growl he suppresses the urge and only presses his lips against the tantalising neck, hoping to destroy Taryon with a kiss.]
[Taryon looses his grip to give Astarion a fair chance of escape, although there's no way he can recover his loss in the time it takes to grab his control and realign his hands. This is a big mistake, as it proves him the best leverage for his true plan.
Taryon is knocked sideways. The screen tilts and flies to the edge of his vision as his character switches direction mid-attack and goes still. His shoulders twist, and he's partially on his back when a terrible vampire strikes.
That is, he doesn't realize that this is, in a sense, a vampire attack, and he registers the mouth on his neck solely as a kiss.
It tickles, and he laughs.] Alright, good show! [He lightly slaps Astarion's shoulder as he weakly tries to roll out from underneat him.]
[Both characters are left standing on the screen, bobbing up and down idly as they wait for the men who may never return since Astarion has lost any interest in it, even if he could just pick up his controller and win now. He loves to win, but he has discovered something he loves more: the feel of Taryon's laughter rumbling through his throat as his mouth is pressed against it.
Taryon tries to move out from under him, and with a wicked chortle he grabs him by the opposite shoulder and pins it down.]
And where do you think you're going? To pick up your controller? No you don't...!
[Wrestling isn't one of his favorite pastimes, and while the pout isn't hidden from Astarion at all, he tries not to be a poor sport about it. Besides, he's certain he can take on a spindly elf!]
I still got it in my hand! [He waves it in his right hand above him - right, Astarion can't see it while he's attacking Taryon's neck. Instead, he rolls onto his side, which in retrospect, is a dangerous move considering that he is nearing the edge of the bed. Going the other way would only bring Astarion directly over his entire body, he tells himself.]
[Astarion has never wrestled, unless you called the fights that came to blows he had with his siblings once in awhile "wrestling", but Astarion of course wouldn't. But being with Taryon now means a whole slew of new experiences could be had, including wrestling. Rough-housing? Whatever one may call it, it's just an excuse to lay a body on another.
And with a -1 strength stat, lacking in human blood in his system, Taryon could surely get the upperhand if he put his mind and biceps to it.]
No you don't!
[He risks releasing his shoulder, stretching with a long arm for the controller, batting for it like some furious cat.]
[Taryon arches to pull his hand farther, a difficult task when he's lying on a bed, and mostly he ends up pushing Astarion upwards from the chest. This requires more drastic measures.
With his +1 in strength, Taryon grips Astarion's shoulder and shoves.
Unfortunately, with his rash decision, he didn't pay attention to which direction he did the shoving, and Astarion is being send over the edge of the bed. This wouldn't be an issue if their legs weren't tangled together and Astarion latching onto Taryon, the other man follows suit, and Taryon yelps as he, too, falls to the floor
[Too tangled to let his roguish instincts work properly, and instead landing lightly like a disoriented cat he hits the ground on his back with a loud OOF as Taryon's heavier weight lands on top of him.
In an silly effort to not be thrown off the bed he had clung to the other man, and now as he blinks the stars from his eyes he finds him above him, one of Astarion's hands on his shoulder, the other tangled in his hair. Taryon's face isn't exactly handsome in the moment after the fall, but that doesn't matter, Astarion still smiles up at him. It would be so easy just to lift his head just a little, meet his lips to his.]
Well, hello, darling. That was quite the finishing move you just made on me.
[The air is punched out of Taryon's lungs in a loud and not-at-all pleaseant noise, but thankfully his fall is broken by another's body. Not so pleaseantly, Astarion's hand in his hair tugs painfully, and his game controller clatters onto the floor. The time continues ticking towards zero on the screen.
He carefully raises his face, seeing that it will be impossible to pull himself out of Astarion's fingers, and rests his chin on Astarion's chest. That coy smile is met with a valiant effort to maintain a neutral expression.] Does this count as me winning the match?
[He carefully untangles his fingers from his hair, brushing it back behind Taryon's ear.]
I don't see how it doesn't. You have me well and truly pinned.
[He snickers at the face Taryon is making. He can't tell if he's hiding a triumphant look or an annoyed look, but whatever it is trying to disguise it gives the man a silly upturn of his mustache.]
[If Taryon wasn't bitter about the game, he would take a few seconds to think twice about the positions they've found themselves in. Instead, he sees pinning Astarion to the floor as its own success. With his hair no longer at risk of being pulled out, Taryon pushes himself off of Astarion and onto his knees.]
Let's try a different game. Are you interested in racing?
[Sure, Mario Kart Racing is the perfect thing to focus on.]
[He's taken back by how quick Taryon gets up off him, and he props himself up on his elbows, trying not to seem too disappointed he no longer had his body against his.]
I was thinking, perhaps, we could take a break from video games...?
Hm? [A disappointed expression from Astarion? Ah, Tary gets it. Going to another competitive genre would only further upset it.] Sorry. I wasn't really upset about it. It's all in good fun!
[The match ends, the timer having run out, but Taryon has stopped caring about that and shuts off the screen. The room becomes quiet.] What were you thinking?
[He needs a moment to figure out what's going on. He's not a wise man.
But he realizes now.] Oh. [It's the flirty tone he's used to, but genuinely directed at him. The bed. Cuddling. He hopes it's just cuddling.]
You...want to go to bed now? Wait, no, that sounds stupid. Sure. We can go rest. [He rotates his wrist, and he takes Astarion's in his hand to pull him up. The elf is shorter than Taryon, so he thankfully doesn't look directly into his eyes when he stands.
He turns away to wipe the space where they sat and wrestled atop the blanket.]
[He stands easily, nodding in thanks for the assistance before letting go to straighten and dust off his clothing. A quiet grin on his face as Taryon gets flustered.]
We don't have to sleep. It would be nice to just be together? And talk.
[Was what he was asking for weird? He supposes if someone had asked Astarion this he would be confused, too, so maybe it was.
He waits for Taryon to finish fussing with the bed, but can't help but to add:]
If that's not too strange of a thing to do, that is.
[Talking is good. Talking with a dear friend is a beautiful thing, and talking with someone who wants to kiss him elevates it into a thrilling experience. Their first night together, in the love hotel that feels like it happened months ago, was nice, through a bit strange. They didn't cuddle as so much bask in each other's presence, and Taryon spent much of the night reviewing the earlier events and navigating his deeper feelings about Astarion.
Now that this relationship is official (as so much as "officially dating" can be a thing), sharing a bed takes on another meaning, even when excluding the expectation of sex.
He pats the bed and pulls the blanket aside.] Oh, no, I actually would love to talk. It's what any couple should do.
[He says with as much confidence as Taryon with as little certainty in the matter in reality. He smiles, perking up, at his agreement, relieved he hadn't made another misstep.
Slipping smoothly under the blanket, he settles down onto his side, leaving room for Taryon of course, but propped up on an elbow as he waits for him to join him.]
[Ah, there he is, laying in the manner typically seen in salacious illustrations. Taryon pauses a tad too long to be be unnoticeable, but he eventually slides onto his side of the bed.]
Doty, turn off the lights and close the blinds.
Tary.
[The automaton walks to the lightswitch, and with a flick, the room is too dark for a human to see anything. Taryon pulls the blanket over himself and lays himself on his side facing Astarion.
...He has no clue where to look, nor what he should say.]
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It's cute, even now.
As the hours pass and Taryon delivers his necessities to the Brimstone quarters (and his games and books), the evening arrives and they settle into the bed to play some fighting games.
Astarion has Tary beat in the dexterity department, though the latter is fighting back with his knowledge of all of the character's combos and invincibility frames. Not that Tary is an expert with that, but he's watched enough tutorials that he thought he'd be doing okay.
His forte is strategy games, rather.]
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The bathroom is a bit too cluttered with both their various items, however. That may be a sticking point.
But that was a bridge to cross, probably in the morning. For now it was a night to try and ignore the uncertainty of the current climate, to distract Taryon from his woes and worries about his friend.
They sit on his bed, Astarion dressed in comfortable pants and a loose tank top, playing a fighting game they had been engrossed in lately. Usually when they start a new fighting game, Astarion is the reigning champion right from the start with his quick fingers and reflexes, until Taryon studies up on the game and develops strategies and becomes a challenge. Astarion didn't have the attention span to read guides on the games they play, and honestly the thought never crosses his mind to look them up online, he merely stumbles upon combos and other secrets by sheer lucky of his button pushing, and it's always exciting when he manages to make one of the characters do something wild. Especially when the move winds up utterly destroying Taryon's character.
But right now, he's being a horrid little troll of a player and camping out in the corner of the screen, doing lower leg sweep after lower leg sweep, keeping Taryon from being able to reach him. His chuckling is absolutely diabolical.]
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His preference are the story-dense strategy games - role-playing, they call it. A wonderful fantasy-filled genre that unfortunately involves a lot of fights across the terrain and more dialogue than action. Unless Astarion wanted to watch pixelated people and listen to Taryon read out all of the text, then an alternative would be required for both to have any fun.
And each time, he's talked into a fighting game. Taryon is seated beside Astarion, legs crossed and brow furrowed in concentration as no matter what attack comb he comes at the woman crouching at the bottom of the screen, her kicks are timed perfectly to throw Taryon's character back in a dramatic arc.] Let me get one hit in, please!
[On the verge of givin up, Taryon camps at the opposide side of the screen and spams one of the taunt buttoms.
Little is he aware that in another universe, he would be following Astarion's strategy in a 5-way battle royale. It's only annoying when on the receiving end.]
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However, under their new relationship status, perhaps Taryon could play those games he loves while Astarion lazed about with his head pillowed in his lap? That would distract him enough from the tedium...
Astarion laughs, watching Taryon's oversized beef slab of a character taunts him over and over. He stops with the leg sweeps and moves back into the center of the ring, cooing to Taryon:]
I'm sorry, darling, here come get your free punch.
[And, of course, as soon as he was near, Astarion does a leg sweep.]
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As of now, Taryon is badly losing the fight, and with this obvious trap, he's stuck. Well, there's nothing else he can do. His character makes a flying leap at Astarion's, prepares a punch mid-air--
And is knocked back again.] Seriously?! [He turns to Astarion and pouts. It's really not fair, even when they're dating, he won't let Taryon have a fair chance in beating him out of the love in his heart.]
How are you this good? [He jumps up, practices a combo from the edge of the screen as he ignores the flashing health bar on top, then has an idea. When he glared at Astarion for a second, the elf seemed distracted by his face. It's not feasible to look at him during the entire fight, but if he could just...
Taryon scoots until he and Astarion are pressed together at their sides, wraps and arm around his narrow waist, and grips the other end of the controller. This has his turn into Astarion to comfortably hold it, but it does the job, and Tary leaps at his enemy with a high kick.]
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A new weakness! He thinks Taryon, despite being cranky at him, still wants to sit next close to him. Clearly just a sweet little physical affection that the romantic that is the human wants to do--
--betrayal! The arm going around him suddenly startles him enough on its own, then he's squeezed and both his heart is leaping into his throat and his elbow is jostled hard enough he drops his controller.]
Sh-Shit--
[It tumbles just out of reach if he doesn't want to break out of the hold, and to be honest he doesn't, but he still cries out in distress as his lithe (except for her ridiculously large bust) lady of a character gets kicked right in the face.]
You right cheater!
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Looks like you can't get beat me this time, Astarion!
[The body in his arms isn't hurting either. It's like getting a victory hug from the handsome village youth at the end of a quest.]
Who's the expert now?!
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[He declares, affronted, with all the energy of a theatre kid.
He could reach his controller if he swept it closer with his leg, but this insult must be punished much harsher than just winning one paltry fight in a video game. He twists in Taryon's hold, pushing himself up against him in the opposite direction with hopes to tip him onto the bed, and he goes in for the throat like a true vampire.
Oh, the immediate instinct to bite was there, but with a playful growl he suppresses the urge and only presses his lips against the tantalising neck, hoping to destroy Taryon with a kiss.]
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Taryon is knocked sideways. The screen tilts and flies to the edge of his vision as his character switches direction mid-attack and goes still. His shoulders twist, and he's partially on his back when a terrible vampire strikes.
That is, he doesn't realize that this is, in a sense, a vampire attack, and he registers the mouth on his neck solely as a kiss.
It tickles, and he laughs.] Alright, good show! [He lightly slaps Astarion's shoulder as he weakly tries to roll out from underneat him.]
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Taryon tries to move out from under him, and with a wicked chortle he grabs him by the opposite shoulder and pins it down.]
And where do you think you're going? To pick up your controller? No you don't...!
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[Wrestling isn't one of his favorite pastimes, and while the pout isn't hidden from Astarion at all, he tries not to be a poor sport about it. Besides, he's certain he can take on a spindly elf!]
I still got it in my hand! [He waves it in his right hand above him - right, Astarion can't see it while he's attacking Taryon's neck. Instead, he rolls onto his side, which in retrospect, is a dangerous move considering that he is nearing the edge of the bed. Going the other way would only bring Astarion directly over his entire body, he tells himself.]
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And with a -1 strength stat, lacking in human blood in his system, Taryon could surely get the upperhand if he put his mind and biceps to it.]
No you don't!
[He risks releasing his shoulder, stretching with a long arm for the controller, batting for it like some furious cat.]
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With his +1 in strength, Taryon grips Astarion's shoulder and shoves.
Unfortunately, with his rash decision, he didn't pay attention to which direction he did the shoving, and Astarion is being send over the edge of the bed. This wouldn't be an issue if their legs weren't tangled together and Astarion latching onto Taryon, the other man follows suit, and Taryon yelps as he, too, falls to the floor
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In an silly effort to not be thrown off the bed he had clung to the other man, and now as he blinks the stars from his eyes he finds him above him, one of Astarion's hands on his shoulder, the other tangled in his hair. Taryon's face isn't exactly handsome in the moment after the fall, but that doesn't matter, Astarion still smiles up at him. It would be so easy just to lift his head just a little, meet his lips to his.]
Well, hello, darling. That was quite the finishing move you just made on me.
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He carefully raises his face, seeing that it will be impossible to pull himself out of Astarion's fingers, and rests his chin on Astarion's chest. That coy smile is met with a valiant effort to maintain a neutral expression.] Does this count as me winning the match?
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I don't see how it doesn't. You have me well and truly pinned.
[He snickers at the face Taryon is making. He can't tell if he's hiding a triumphant look or an annoyed look, but whatever it is trying to disguise it gives the man a silly upturn of his mustache.]
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Let's try a different game. Are you interested in racing?
[Sure, Mario Kart Racing is the perfect thing to focus on.]
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[He's taken back by how quick Taryon gets up off him, and he props himself up on his elbows, trying not to seem too disappointed he no longer had his body against his.]
I was thinking, perhaps, we could take a break from video games...?
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[The match ends, the timer having run out, but Taryon has stopped caring about that and shuts off the screen. The room becomes quiet.] What were you thinking?
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He waves a hand dismissively.]
No, no, it's not that. It's getting late...
[He reaches out, touching Taryon's wrist with a gentle hand.]
Would you like to return to bed and have a cuddle?
[His voice has an odd duality, both flirtateous but shy. Torn between persona and genuinity.]
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But he realizes now.] Oh. [It's the flirty tone he's used to, but genuinely directed at him. The bed. Cuddling. He hopes it's just cuddling.]
You...want to go to bed now? Wait, no, that sounds stupid. Sure. We can go rest. [He rotates his wrist, and he takes Astarion's in his hand to pull him up. The elf is shorter than Taryon, so he thankfully doesn't look directly into his eyes when he stands.
He turns away to wipe the space where they sat and wrestled atop the blanket.]
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We don't have to sleep. It would be nice to just be together? And talk.
[Was what he was asking for weird? He supposes if someone had asked Astarion this he would be confused, too, so maybe it was.
He waits for Taryon to finish fussing with the bed, but can't help but to add:]
If that's not too strange of a thing to do, that is.
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Now that this relationship is official (as so much as "officially dating" can be a thing), sharing a bed takes on another meaning, even when excluding the expectation of sex.
He pats the bed and pulls the blanket aside.] Oh, no, I actually would love to talk. It's what any couple should do.
[He assumes.]
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[He says with as much confidence as Taryon with as little certainty in the matter in reality. He smiles, perking up, at his agreement, relieved he hadn't made another misstep.
Slipping smoothly under the blanket, he settles down onto his side, leaving room for Taryon of course, but propped up on an elbow as he waits for him to join him.]
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Doty, turn off the lights and close the blinds.
Tary.
[The automaton walks to the lightswitch, and with a flick, the room is too dark for a human to see anything. Taryon pulls the blanket over himself and lays himself on his side facing Astarion.
...He has no clue where to look, nor what he should say.]
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