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This is Rosita. I'll hit you back when I can.

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Once upon a time, in a life that doesn't exist anymore, as a girl she no longer is, Rosita had loved to dance. She didn't even care what kind, just as long as there was someone there with her, someone beside her, dancing too.

She follows Astarion's lead, and she laughs when they find their balance and he spins her particularly well. She's not excessively graceful, not trained by any means, but she learns quickly and she's confident in the use of her body and both fearless and comfortable.

It's very, very close to being happy, and when the song finishes she's grinning at her partner as she sketches a curtsy and then flops back next to Jacob.

"Your turn. He's a wonderful partner. "

"You have no idea, darling," Astarion purrs, but doesn't let the flirtation linger - just extends a hand to Jacob. "May I have this dance?"

"She could," Jacob snickers, taking Astarion's hand as he stands.

"You can change the song if you want," he tells Rosita, gesturing to the phone. It's still unlocked and the music is mostly country, classic 70s rock, and a smattering of Christian rock.

"Alright, I was only half paying attention." But he will follow Astarion's lead. He's just not as good as Rosita.

"Well whose fault is that," she grouses almost simultaneously with Jacob, but she plucks up the phone to scroll through it.

She watches them over the top of it, though, dark eyes still bright.

Edited Date: 2024-11-12 12:09 pm (UTC)

Astarion has danced with people who stepped on his feet, who've never danced before, who were drunk to the point of near-unconsciousness, who just used 'dance' as a pretext to feel him up - and any combination of the above. Jacob's slightly lesser aptitude is, in that context, absolutely harmless. He keeps him close as they move, casting the occasional glance and smile to Rosita as he turns to face her before sliding away.

He looks down at his feet for a while until he gets the steps, but he's just tipsy enough to not care if he fucks up once or twice. He's not stepping on Astarion's toes yet. Which he considers an accomplishment.

He isn't concerned about Rosita on his phone, either. The background is a , and the gallery is mostly pictures of animals he hunted, fish he caught, and guns. He has a few of his brothers, but they're deep in.

"Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of it," he says as he misses a step.

She could dig in the trove of information she has held in her hand; she doesn't. She just looks at the playlist, considering for a moment before she changes it to another Garth Brooks song.

"If you need to practice," she suggests, "We could always slow it down first."

She sets the phone down, and reaches for the bottle he left behind herself.

Astarion pauses to listen to the new tempo for a few moments, then hums and takes Jacob back in his arms, slowing their steps.

"You're already both perfectly fine already," he murmurs, reassuring. "No need to worry."

"Hear that? I'm doing perfectly fine."

Jacob moves in a little closer, following the steps easier this time. He even sings along with the music as he finally catches on. He keeps it low, but it's a song he knows well, and he gets a little more confident as they go. Or the drink is finally catching up to him. Either way...

Ro downs a mouthful of the whiskey, holding it on her tongue and letting it sink bitter and burning into her tastebuds before swallowing it; she watches, something warm in her chest at the way they relax into one another.

They look good together, she thinks. "I heard. Stop worrying about me, worry more about him."

"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?"