[Oh, they’re going to unlock so many kinks in each other over time, aren’t they.
My dear Astarion. Words like a melody in his ears, never mind the slight rumble to the warlock’s tone — which is just as wonderful in its own right. And really, for all his teasing, that’s about all the delay he’ll allow himself. Just one more kiss placed where he can feel that pulse throbbing beneath the sensitive skin of his lips, warm and present and its tempo like a siren’s call—]
My darling Winter.
[He echoes back, but the words are barely free from his mouth before the brush of fangs are no longer a tease, but a reality. They lance in, too-sharp, quick and easy. The same as always: the feeling of something cold piercing, then a numbness to banish it all away. And for Astarion? The bloom of blood across his tongue, something wonderful to finally dull the hunger.]
no subject
My dear Astarion. Words like a melody in his ears, never mind the slight rumble to the warlock’s tone — which is just as wonderful in its own right. And really, for all his teasing, that’s about all the delay he’ll allow himself. Just one more kiss placed where he can feel that pulse throbbing beneath the sensitive skin of his lips, warm and present and its tempo like a siren’s call—]
My darling Winter.
[He echoes back, but the words are barely free from his mouth before the brush of fangs are no longer a tease, but a reality. They lance in, too-sharp, quick and easy. The same as always: the feeling of something cold piercing, then a numbness to banish it all away. And for Astarion? The bloom of blood across his tongue, something wonderful to finally dull the hunger.]