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

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He doesn't stop moving until Astarion does, sucking in deep and shuddering breaths as a wave of actual, all consuming emotion washes through him. He can't identify it and it leaves him woozy and drained in its aftermath. It's not altogether unpleasant, just new. He keeps one trembling hand on the bed, propping himself up so his full weight isn't on her.

He doesn't say anything for a long moment, just basking there in the moment.

The short, sharp strokes from Astarion transfer through Jacob into her, lessened of course but still enough to make her shiver and shudder. It's not quite enough to bring her off again but the hum they've built in her body is pleasant anyway rather than frustrating, the edge taken off and her focus on giving pleasure more than taking it.

She's panting, dark hair stuck to her skin and blankets tangled around them, but also bodies on top of bodies, and sometimes that's too much but here, now, she brushes her lips along Jacob's chest and kisses the salt from his skin. She cards her fingers through Astarion's hair.

And she chuckles softly from deep in her chest, murmuring a heartfelt, sated, "Fuck."

Astarion makes a soft sound, tilting his head into the touch like a cat might, his awareness drifting back into the moment.

"Would you like more, Rosita?" he asks, voice low and syrupy. "I think some promises were...implied, at least."

He squeezes Jacob's fingers, his other hand running lazily over his chest.

Jacob holds fast to his hand. It's not the most natural of positions, but he keeps it there, bringing it around to his shoulders.

"I'm sure we can think of something," he murmurs to her once he feels can can talk again.

"More?" she echoes, licking her lips, abd she chuckles. Obviously she knows what he means, even as she wonders vaguely how much they thought she expected.

"Why would I want more now when I can just use it for leverage for more next time?"

She is not a timid woman, especially not in the bedroom, but there's still the faintest trace of a real question in the idea of a next time.

Astarion laughs softly against Jacob's shoulder, his scattered kisses gentle now, the brush of his lips soft and cool.

"I do respect the idea of holding onto some leverage. Next time, then."

He lets go of Jacob's hand to settle a hand on his hip, slowly and carefully pulling out of him.

"Yeah, and it's someone else's goddamn turn in the middle."

Not that he's complaining. Not that he would ever complain.

He drops his other hand to the bed and when Astarion move away, Jacob does, too, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head, feeling a pleasant ache all through his back. It also gives him the chance to pull Astarion into a kiss.

Rosita, too, pulls herself enough away that she can sort herself out a bit. Not much, she's reasonably quick to pull a pillow to herself and prop up herself up so she can just look at the two of them from where she tucks her legs up closer to herself.

"You liked it," she scoffs. "A lot, from where I was sitting."

"He likes complaining," Astarion murmurs, as he draws away from the kiss with a smile. He stretches out comfortably on his side, head propped up on one hand. "Feel free to blame my bad influence on that count, Jacob."

"No, I own my shit, thanks."

He does lie back between them, his hands on his stomach. He can't think of anywhere he'd want to be right now, except for here. And he doesn't think his exhausted body would carry him far anyway.

"Next time, we'll be prepared, at least."

She smiles, gently, at that. At both of them. She follows the exhausted lines of Jacob's body with her eyes, the languid sprawl of Astarion's, and there's appreciation in it of course, but there's more of something else.

She still needs to talk a few things through - with both of them - but for now she just shakes her head and says, "Thank you."

"Our pleasure," Astarion says, low and teasing, but then his expression softens; his eyes crease at the corners when he smiles genuinely. "Thank you, Rosita. This...isn't how I expected the evening to go, but it's...much better than I might have anticipated."

"Uh huh," he agrees with a nod. "I mean, I had hoped it might end this way." Teasing again, but with more than a hint of sincerity behind it. "Maybe not with Garth Brooks in the background, though," he says, pushing himself up to retrieve his phone, which, now that they're quiet, he can hear playing softly in the background.