Stryker1187
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They'd been a united front for months now. And there had been no physicality. Beyond the trifle of blood donation, every three days or so. They had just been allies. No barely restrained lust, no bedroom eyes, none of the usual signs Astarion got when one of his marks were falling for the act, falling for him. But now the road ahead was dappled in sunlight, and Halsin had asked to speak to him alone, and Astarion could see it.
The longing. The loneliness. The want to be close in any form. It was foreign in some ways, cripplingly familiar in others. Halsin wanted him now.
It was touching. Astarion would be touched. If only he didn't hate that.
- Language:
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Bookmarked by Stryker1187
24 Jan 2026