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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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..."

"I do," Astarion agrees, but then casts a sly smile up at him that says a lot about the sample size they're working with. He tugs Blitzø's clothes to his knees, pressing cool, open-mouthed kisses to his shaft.

"Fuck-" There's something about the odd coolness of Astarion's mouth on him that is weirdly hotter than it should be and made him think that maybe there's something to all that temperature play bullshit. It also helps that Astarion is hot as fuck and watching him pressing his lips to his length is something Blitzø is pretty sure most people would kill to experience.

A little hesitantly, aware of Astarion's past experiences, Blitzø reaches out to thread his fingers through the vampire's pal hair and gently massage his scalp. There's no attempt to try and force him places or push him further, and if Astarion shies from the touch, he stops immediately.

He doesn't. The thing he'd flinch from is any attempt to have his hair used as a handle; on the contrary, this gentler kind of touch is very nice indeed. He hums his pleasure and takes Blitzø into his mouth, focused now on giving him some slow, thorough head.

It's hard for him not to do exactly that, bury his hands in Astarion's curls and shove him around, fuck his face outright even. He's usually been rough with Stolas whenever the goetian had done this, their moments together usually venturing towards the rougher side of things overall. It's difficult not to do the same here out of both habit and a desire to purposefully fuck things up, upset Astarion and prove that he's just an asshole who doesn't deserve the kind of care the vampire offers.

But he doesn't want to do that and hurt him either. Astarion doesn't deserve that and so Blitzø forces himself to take deep breaths and focus on kneading the vampire's scalp, letting go if he feels himself getting too close to fisting his hair or pulling. A few whimpers escape him as Astarion works him over, and at one point he has to drop his hands to dig them into the bedding instead and fight the urge to thrust up into the other man's mouth.

"Fuck, Astarion... almost..."

Astarion can feel him getting close, and he spares him any temptation to fuck his throat by doing the work himself - bobbing his head in smooth, fast strokes, pulling right up to suck at the head and then swallowing to the root. He keeps his hips pinned down with both hands, determined to push him over the brink hard.

Blitzø resists it as long as he can, initially he tells himself that Astarion might want to pull away and, as that becomes clearly not the case, then it's to try and drag out the moment as much as he can, the almost painful need to come building up and up...

He might have managed a little longer, if he hadn't looked down and caught Astarion's gaze for a moment. It's that which pushes him over, his head tipping back in a long groan and body straining against the strength of Astarion's grip.

When he finally starts to come down again, Blitzø feels more drained and tired than he has in a while, although he does his best to try and hide it. "Fuck, ok. That was pretty fucking good."

Astarion swallows efficiently and presses one last kiss to Blitzø's hip, smiling up at him like a contented cat.

"Mm. Flattery gets you everywhere, darling."

"Flattery's not the only thing I can do to show my appreciation," he returns, gently tracing the tip of Astarion's ear with a claw.

"Didn't I promise to see how many rounds you could manage?"

Astarion closes his eyes for a moment, shivering with pleasure. It's ridiculous that his ears are sensitive when they're so...accessible.

"...I think it became more of a mutual bet, but yes, you did."

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