helluvamess | [tlv] character inbox

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"If you're hearing this then I can't be fucked answering right now or some other shit-covered fuckwich is going down on this boat so I'll get back to you when the fuck I can!"

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[The door to Blitzø's cabin looks like a typical shitty apartment door. Inside is pretty much exactly a shitty apartment. The door marked "Loona's room" does not open when tried and it appears that Blitzø himself sleeps on the couch. The walls are covered with images and drawings of horses, however every picture of Blitzø has his face scribbled over.]

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"See? What's not to fucking like?"

Blitzø tries a smile that looks forced and swirls the contents of the bottle around. He's tempted to just finish the whole thing but he doesn't want Astarion feeling like he has to share.

"Besides, it doesn't fucking matter. Stolas and I are done anyway. Not that there was a 'Stolas and I' really anyway but... oh who fucking cares. It's over. He won't even look at me again anyway."

"You seem to fucking care," Astarion says levelly. "Quite a lot, actually. Do you want there to be a 'Stolas and I'?"

He asked something similar earlier but didn't get a response, really.

Because it's a question Blitzø can't bring himself to answer even to himself, and he's definitely not drunk enough to get into it with Astarion now. So he rolls his eyes and drinks half the bottle, coming up for air again as his eyes start watering and he's wheezing from it.

"It doesn't matter. He said he was done with our deal, so it's over."

"Suit yourself, darling. Certainly, there's no reason to suspect he sees this as an unwanted obligation on your part that he's releasing you from," Astarion says briskly. "As you say: over."

"See? You get it!" Blitzø agrees, completely missing any subtlety Astarion might have been aiming for.

"Whatever, it'll probably be better this way anyway. Just another puss on this boat to have some fun with if he gets the craving again, and that's just fine with me. And speaking of having fuuuun~"

Blitzø ~~stumbles~~ slips on over to Astarion and drags his tail up the vampire's thigh. "Why don't we stop talking and focus on other things?"

Astarion makes an amused, incredulous little sound, reaching out to slide a hand over his arm.

"No pun intended, pet, but are you sure you're up for it?"

He's got nothing against drunk rebound sex, but he's not going to participate in anything that Blitzø might throw up and pass out in the middle of.

"I'm fiiiiine," he answers with an exaggerated eyeroll. "I haven't even finished the bottle yet and I've definitely been drunker than this and gotten laid before. Besides, if I can always just eat you out if you're worried I can't get it up."

"Far be it from me to make assumptions about your physiology," he murmurs, and beckons him closer. "Come here, darling."

Blitzø grins and sets the bottle down out of the way, his next goal to lift Astarion up bodily if the vampire lets him.

He does, albeit with a little shocked sound.

"...I keep forgetting how strong you are," he admits. "I'm used to the strongest devils I've encountered having muscles on their muscles."

"It's fucking worth it, getting to surprise you like this." The hardest part is just making sure he doesn't drag some part of Astarion on the ground, but the bed isn't far and it's easy to toss him onto it.

"Now I'm gonna see how long it takes to get you to scream your voice out."

Astarion laughs as he splays himself out comfortably, propping his body up on his elbows, but there's no mockery there.

"I'm not sure how long you have, darling."

"Oh it's a fucking challenge, is it?" His tail flicks back and forth and Blitzø nudges Astarion's legs open enough to drag a claw up the inside of his thigh.

"I get you off as many times as it takes to make your legs give out and you have to get me something fun next time this boat stops somewhere good. I fail and I'll get you something to make it up to you. Deal?"

Either way they'd have fun trying.

"Deal," Astarion murmurs, legs parting a little wider for him.

He's not thinking about it, but since the tadpole arrested his healing abilities (and stamina) somewhat, this might be easier for one imp than he's anticipating.

"Do your worst, why don't you?"

"Oh I fucking plan on it~" he purrs, his claw dragging further up the inside of Astarion's thigh until he can palm the vampire's cock through his pants. He knows better than to rip off Astarion's clothing now, but that doesn't stop him from dropping his head to nip at his hips through his clothing, teeth sharp enough to still be felt despite the layers.

Astarion's breath huffs out softly, his cock twitching under Blitzø's touch. For as much as he's been drinking, he seems remarkably focused when he's got something (someone?) to do.

"Mm. That's - that's good," he murmurs, arching a little.

It's a coping strategy he's been using for a while even before arriving on the barge; thinking about complicated feelings and relationships was difficult and confusing and upsetting and he hated it. So focusing on what he was good at was just easier. He didn't have to think beyond the best way to get someone off, didn't have to worry about what impression they might have of him when he could control how pleasurable their time with him was. It's so much easier, and right now he needs easier.

As Astarion arches, Blitzø mouths at his inner thigh through fabric, his fingers working at the closure of the vampire's pants and dragging them open enough to scrape his claws against Astarion's hip. He imagines the vampire might get pissy if he makes him mess up his clothes so as appealing as trying to get Astarion off without even getting him undressed first is... he passes on it. At least for now.

Astarion shifts in place to help Blitzø get his trousers off, shuddering at the pleasure-pain of those sharp claws passing over thin skin.

"Gods. That's perfect," he sighs, hips rolling. "You look gorgeous right now, you know?"

Maybe the praise is a little effusive, but he suspects the imp might need a little buoying up, even if he doesn't want to think about it.

Astarion might be wanting to make him feel better, but Blitzø looks up, startled and gives him a confused look.

"...you don't have to try and make me feel good, you know," he says after a beat, then returns his attention to tugging off Astarion's pants. "I'm not some inexperienced fuck who needs to feel pretty to get you off, or one of those assholes you used to have to talk up while they fucked you."

"Darling, if you want me flaccid and miserable for the rest of the evening, please mention those 'assholes' one more time," Astarion drawls. "Am I not allowed to find you attractive, now?"

"Uh, since when do you find me attractive?" he returns, giving Astarion a suspicious look. "You called me a coatrack when we first met? I mean, my dick game is good I'll give you that, but you don't have to pretend like it's more than that."

Great, now he's feeling more sober than not and like his own boner is dying.

Astarion lifts both eyebrows.

"Do you think I'm choosing to sleep with you while not finding you attractive? Gods, you must think my standards are utterly abysmal. Get your clothes off," he says briskly, sitting up enough to deal with his shirt.

"Wait, fuck, I didn't mean it like that--"

Satan's ass he'd fucked it up again. Blitzø groans and sits up enough to slowly shrug out of his coat and shirt, watching Astarion all the while.

"I don't think you have shit standards, I just- fuck- I don't get why I'd meet them."

Astarion chuckles and switches their positions, putting Blitzø down onto his back - he's strong but he's not remarkably heavy, after all.

He kisses his throat and starts working his way down.

"You're funny. You have a ruthless streak I find compelling. You're easy to talk to. You're sweeter than I'd bet you want me to have noticed."

His fingers are nimble on the fastenings of his trousers.

"And yes, the 'dick game' is excellent."

This feels like new territory; he'd never really let Stolas take the lead between them and isn't entirely familiar with giving up control. Even when he let someone top him, Blitzø controlled it as much as he could the whole time. Astarion doing this felt like something he didn't deserve, a level of care he hadn't earned. The kisses, the touch that feels like he's taking his time, like he wants to take his time, and the words... all of it makes him flush like a stupid virgin and feel just as awkward.

Fuck, even his mouth is dry and he has to swallow hard to get words out.

"H-hah, I bet you say that to all the imps..."

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