illithidnapped

Dante rolled back onto his free hand when Astarion began plying him with more kisses, a deep, rich chuckle rumbling from somewhere in his chest. He did his best to return it, but he didn't want to interfere with Astarion's onslaught so he let him go until he was satisfied. That's when he knew it was over for the time being, his companion redressing Date and himself, tidying them up as best as he could considering and Dante considered. He considered his sticky hand, his body that smelled of sweat, sex, and blood. He considered how his neck and must also be smeared with crimson kisses.

Nevermind Astarion who also had the additional bonus of having to deal with Dante spilling inside of him, maybe he should have had the presence of mind to ask or at least warn him. There was very little running water to be found and Thedas wasn't exactly up on modern plumbing. However what Thedas and Orlais specifically lacked in modern conveniences it did make up for with more natural means so he didn't seem all too fussed.

Exactly where Dante took off too when the presence of people became too overwhelming for him (something he was still trying to get used to since he naturally avoided the throngs most of the time)? He went out and explored the surrounding areas further from the city and while it had the potential for danger, there were other things to be found when you weren't looking and Dante had take up camp in a few of these places for the quiet ad to get some respite from the noxious environment of a war riddled city.

Climbing to his feet he wasn't overly concerned about the way his clothing fell so much as he was in stroking Astarion's bloodied cheek with the backs of his fingers. He missed him already, but he wouldn't say as much.

"Guess you don't need me to tell you how drop-dead gorgeous you are," Dante returned, smirking back, but knowing Astarion that's exactly what he wants to be told.

"I'll be sure to follow you around on these secret assignments if it helps expedite the trend," stretching his arms above his head languidly he voiced what was a concern for both of them, "should probably take a bath though before the well meaning come to their own conclusions."

Gorgeous. He does know Astarion too well. It earns a moment longer where Astarion's cheek rests heavier against those roaming fingertips.

Just a touch.

“Mm. Before sunlight circles around, too.” He chuckles blithely, gesturing with a gloved hand towards Dante’s neck. “Come on, there’s a basin inside the office. It isn’t much, but it’ll at least work for now.”

No one save for Astarion lingers at the requisitioned building this late, anyway. They’ve all found other places to rest properly, even in the aftermath of war. Somewhere with beds instead of desks. Rooms instead of holding areas.

“I’ll even scrub you off for good measure.”

Why does that sound like an innuendo.

Not that Dante cared that he had bite marks on his neck that were still glistening with blood and might require the entirety of the night to heal were seen by anyone in particular, he didn't want to piss off the whole village. Whatever weird ideas someone might get into their head at the sight of them with no other context to go on wasn't something he'd want Astarion to deal with.

"As long as there's water involved, I'm not picky," granted he'd probably have to find something else to change into at some point, but that could also wait, the bare minimum was more than sufficient for now as was the privacy to take care of business. They might even be able to get a few hours of undisturbed downtime in before the sun came up and work beckoned.

Well, maybe, Astarion's offer was coming very close to putting those plans on hold.

"Oh, well getting scrubbed off is too generous an offer to turn down," he offered a lopsided grin to his partner, knowing well what he meant, but even if it was more than that he would lean into it anyway, "and what kind of gentleman would I be if i didn't return the favor. I'll be through, get all the places you can't reach."

Did he mean Astarion's back?

There's nothing planned about the way Astarion slips himself into the crook of Dante's arm without asking, pulling him close around his shoulders, fingertips perched light atop his forearm. He's decided— somewhere long before now— this is what they do, the both of them.

Equilibrium.

"Ever the dashing hero I've always dreamed of," He croons smoothly as they slink into the alleyway shadows in full, still smelling of lilac and sex, and the alluring tang of copper.

"I'll look forward to seeing you try."

And falling into step, Dante tugs Astarion in so that he's snug at his side, it's enough to be intimate, companionable, but not enough to interfere with walking leisurely. It just so happened neither one of them had any particular qualms about personal space, invading it, and getting comfortable in it. Clearly there were a few benefits, aside from piggy back rides.

"Can't imagine that dream had a white stallion and blinding armor in it?" Dante couldn't imagine himself being any kind of white knight and picturing himself in a suit of armor gave him a child dressing up in dad's DnD cosplay vibe. He banished the thought before it could send a chill down his spine and instead focused on Astarion's challenge.

"And succeed" Dante said nosing Astarion's hair playfully, "you forgot to add that part."

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