handleyourshit | TLV Inbox

"Oh, I'm old news now," Astarion teases, and spins slowly under Jacob's arm before moving back in close. "You, darling, he still needs to impress."

There's no hidden insecurity in that, really. He doesn't feel taken for granted, he's just...they're comfortable together. It's nice.

More than he can even express. When Astarion comes in close again, Jacob squeezes his hand.

"You let me handle that," he tells him as the song ends. "I'm very goddamn impressive."

He steps back, joining Rosita so he can hold out a hand for the bottle.

"Oh, is that so?"

It's for both of them, but she sees, too, the flip side of its meaning: that he and Astarion understand one another, at least enough to be sure of one another. It's good. She's glad that they have that, even if she knows it means her own use is nearing expiration.

She gives up the bottle, and moves over on the bed so there's space for two beside her rather than one to each side, kicking off her boots to land somewhere beside Jacob's on the floor. "Because I'm pretty goddamn impressive myself."

Astarion watches this movement over Jacob's shoulder, eyes half-hooded and dark.

"Is this an invitation?" he asks softly. It's a line he and Rosita have yet to cross, but it's starting to feel more like a petty formality all the time.

Jacob takes the bottle and settles on the bed, watching between the two of them. This doesn't need his input, but he's paying rapt attention.

"Should it be?"

It's not that she's trying to be coy, but there's a streak of honest surprise in it; she shifts her attention more to Astarion, sitting up a bit more.

"I thought... you don't seem interested in women."

Astarion shrugs.

"I know I have a certain...affect, perhaps," he says, with a vague hand gesture. "But I like women very well. And - I like you. I didn't want anything to sour our friendship, but...I don't really see that happening."

Not because of sex, anyway.

Another drink and Jacob finally pipes up. "It's true. We did talk about this just the other day."

He shrugs.

"It's not just your affect," she chuckles, but it's not as though she's going to argue. The reasons don't matter if they're wrong, and he's saying otherwise, so. Here they are.

Their friendship is important, and stronger than a single misstep, she agrees; and then there's the fact they talked about it, apparently. She raises her eyebrows, but it's interest this time, not surprise.

"What did you talk about?" she asks, because in light of this new information: "Yes, it is an invitation."

Astarion licks his lips and glances to Jacob with a quick smile.

"Perhaps you'd like to field that one, mm?"

He shakes his head, taking a long drink and, for the first time, a red flush tints his cheeks above his beard.

"Ah, just - talking about how much fun we'd all have together."

He isn't sure he wants to go into details yet, not when things are standing on an edge.

"Well I think that much can probably go without saying." Astarion and Rosita are both confident and proficient and - apparently - experienced with a variety of partners. Jacob hasn't been shy, to her knowledge.

So she reaches to lay a hand on his arm, offering, "This - we're safe. This can be safe. Tell me what you want."

Astarion sits down on Jacob's other side, nuzzling lightly against his jaw.

"We talked about how you would feel," he breathes. "Between Rosita and I. Mm?"

It's not fair how fucking easy it is for him to fall into this. It's not fair how much sway they have over him.

"Yeah," he agrees gently, clearing his throat and taking a long drink before setting it aside. "He uh - fucked me the other day and it - it came up that it's not something I would like with anyone except you around."

As Astarion comes close, Jacob reaches up to thread fingers in his hair, turning ever so slightly to kiss Rosita.

She doesn't ever want him to feel helpless, but she does want this to be easy. She wants this to be comfortable, and she tilts her head to watch the way Astarion settles, lets Jacob come to her for the kiss.

Before they break though she's shifted closer, fitting her body more closely to his, fingers finding their way under the hem of his shirt to skin.

"Around?" she hums, low and throaty. She takes the cue from both of them to clarify, "Or were you thinking of fucking me while he fucked you?"

"Or vice versa," Astarion murmurs, a cool hand slipping under Jacob's shirt and running up his spine. "Not that I know if you're equipped for that sort of thing, of course."

She just strikes him as the kind of woman who might be.

The two hands against his skin light him up like fire. The image in his head of what's being suggested only fuels the flames.

He keeps his fingers in Astarion's hair as he trails a kiss to her jaw so he can hide the way his face still burns. "Are you?" he wonders of her. "That something you keep for necessities in your pack?"

It's not his face that gives him away. It's the way she slides a knee between his and feels his interest against her thigh, and she smiles.

"It's not something that made the cut, no," she has to admit. "But I know my way around a good, hard pegging."

Which isn't exactly helping her initial misunderstanding, but the interest is genuine so she's happy to go with it for the time being, and she rolls her hips so her body slides against Jacob's.

"That what you want? Rocking up into one, back onto the other, don't care which way it goes?" Her dark eyes tick to find Astarion's over Jacob's shoulder where she has her head tipped. "And you? Sharing for a night?"

Astarion has not encountered the word 'pegging' before, but it's delightful. No notes.

"A night, at - at least to start," Astarion says, feeling something almost like shyness. He's not exactly used to putting himself out there, more accustomed to simply being available and letting people come to him. He's especially not used to it with people like Rosita, when their relationship up to now has been altogether platonic.

"I'd like to touch you, darling. Maybe Jacob can tell me what you like."

"Oh yeah, that I can do."

His voice is deep with want, and he doesn't bother hiding it anymore. His hand cups her ass automatically as she comes close, and he gives it a little squeeze.

"Gotta get those clothes off first."

"That's a good start," she answers, honest, even eager. Encouraging.

One step at a time. She slides her hand up to lift Jacob's shirt, waiting for him to help her get it off over his head; once that's out of the way though, she goes ahead and reaches for Astarion's hand to pull to her.

She kisses his palm - "Then touch me," she invites. - and leans her cheek there after, trusting.

Astarion doesn't, at first: he just looks at her, taking in the way she looks in this new light, then leans in to kiss her lips delicately.

His fingertips trace over her cheekbone, then into her hair, stroking across her scalp as his other hand runs up and down her side.

He leans back, helping her get his shirt off, then props himself up with one hand.

Watching a first kiss, it turns out, between two people you care about is almost as thrilling as participating yourself. "We aren't in a rush," he assures them both, the hand on her ass going under her shirt, feeling bare skin under the layers. "It ain't like we gotta hurry."

She hasn't had a first kiss like this in... quite some time, actually. She spends a lot of time using sex to blow off steam, to comfort herself, to distract herself. All she needs is attraction, pure and simple, for that. It's how it started with Jacob, even.

But it's been a long goddamn time since she started with affection and then moved to anything more, and the difference is marked. Astarion's touch is cooler than she's used to, although it's not a surprise; she has always loved hands in her hair, allowing it to be her one vanity in life. Easy, she thinks to herself, cautions herself, and lets Astarion decide - but when he kisses her, she leans slowly, steadily into returning it, and softly hums her approval.

The corner of her mouth quirks. "Clothes off first," she reminds them both, tracing Jacob's patchwork of scars blindly down his ribs, then skipping past to Astarion's.

"Clothes first," Astarion agrees, with one more kiss, and then leans back a little to strip off his shirt and toss it aside. No body hair at all, and no scars besides the configuration carved into his back.

"Now you," he decides, and leans in to make a start, leaving more than enough room for Jacob to help.

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