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 huffs a laugh again, struggling not to just drive home despite Astarion's begging for exactly that, and keeps up the torturously slow pace.

"Please what?"

He is not beyond being a bit of an ass, even here.

"Please either shove your cock into me like you mean it, or let me on top so I can show you how it's done."

It's all but a growl, though he's smiling regardless.

And because Blitzø is who he is, he thrusts in mid-sentence, hips slapping against Astarion's as he sinks home. His goal is to see how much noise he can get out of the unprepared vampire, but he also groans at the sensation.

"Fuck you feel good. We should have done this way fucking sooner."

Astarion makes a strangled, breathless sound, knees hitching up and apart just a little further. He does feel good - very good - but he already can feel his mind starting to drift away from the moment. He's been here so many times that there's a kind of autopilot that tries to kick in.

He closes his eyes, panting softly. Lets himself soak in the pleasure.

"Are you going to whine about it or make up for lost time, darling?"

Blitzø rolls his hips against Astarion lazily and shifts himself to lean over Astarion and kiss him as he starts rocking into him as slowly as he can manage. As tempting as it is to just start fucking him brutally, he wants to make sure that Astarion is enjoying himself thoroughly - he's been on the receiving end of someone just chasing their own pleasure and it fucking sucked.

Astarion returns the kiss, carefully navigating around the sharp teeth and his own fangs as he slides his tongue against Blitzø's. He rests one hand between the imp's shoulders, the other gripping lightly at the bedsheets, his erection trapped between their bodies and sliding against warm skin with each thrust.

"Yes..."

Blitzø's tongue curls around Astarion's like a living thing, and when the vampire's hand slides between the spines on his upper back, he shudders and thrusts hard into him, breaking the kiss to growl against Astarion's throat.

"Fuck--"

He pauses long enough to shift, curling his tail around Astarion's cock once again, the spade swiping over the head to provide some lubrication. His hands move to grip the vampire's hips and lift enough that he can start fucking into him more firmly, giving into the desire for more faster harder that was building rapidly.

He's stronger than Astarion might have guessed from the thin limbs, the small body - but he's a whole other race, of course. And he's not about to complain when he's so richly benefiting.

The harder thrusts, the snug curl of Blitzø's tail around his cock, the sound of their bodies colliding; it's good, it's all so fucking good, and he just lets his mind go blank. He doesn't need to think, doesn't need to consider what happens next, doesn't need to wonder if he's being good enough. He can just drown in sensation and let the imp fuck any intrusive thoughts out of his head.

He rocks against him, deliberately tightening up around him, moaning on each thrust.

He's rapidly starting to approach the point of no return where it's so, so tempting to just say fuck it and proceed to see if he could fuck Astarion hard enough to leave an impression in the mattress. But there's that weird sense of something off somehow, like Astarion isn't quite present in some way, that's... worrying.

Mentally cursing because it would be so much easier if he didn't give a fuck, Blitzø slows and stills himself as much as possible.

"Hey, Astarion... gimme a colour real quick. Green?"

Astarion blinks a couple of times, trying to find words. Colour? Nope. He's read through a couple of Earth books on kink but nothing is connecting right now.

"I'm fine, darling - don't stop, please."

He rolls his hips, fluid and needy.

Well it's an answer, even if he'll have to make a note to talk about the colour thing with Astarion just to be sure in the future. But right now that needy reassurance was more than enough and Blitzø grips Astarion's hips tighter, fucks into him with a sharp snap of his hips and works to reclaim the pace again. This time he doesn't hold back when he feels the need to press into him harder, rutting his hips as though he could manage to get just a little further inside Astarion this way, the vampire's cock caught between them and his tail squeezing it rhythmically.

He only manages it for a moment or two before the pattern comes undone as Blitzø himself does, his hips stuttering as he comes and his fingers digging into the meat of Astarion's ass.

Astarion shivers all over at the sensation of it, the heat, the way Blitzø's cock twitches inside him as he comes. It's good, it's simple, it's easy. Even when he's been sleeping with John lately he's caught himself overthinking, wondering if he's getting in too deep, if there's something alien and emotional slipping in at the edges of their arrangement - but this is just pure pleasure for its own sake, and it's not something he's used to.

He reaches down to stroke rapidly at the head of his cock and comes a few moments later, with a silent gasp, the mess of it getting on both their stomachs.

There's a moment that feels much longer than it is where they both stay like that, locked together with Blitzø breathing heavily as he feels his cock slowly softening and the cooling come on their skin. He exhales and withdraws from Astarion slowly, easing the vampire's hips back down and sitting up to check that he hasn't left any inadvertent puncture marks.

It's tempting to just curl up now, but Blitzø makes himself slide off of the bed, well aware if he follows that instinct he likely won't move for a while. Although if Astarion is worried, he also makes his intentions clear.

"This place better have a fucking towel for you. Do vampires drink water by the way?"

Astarion stretches, arching his back, curling and flexing his feet. The aftershocks of orgasm run through him pleasantly.

"There's towels in the bathroom," he murmurs, tucking a hand behind his head. "I can drink water but it doesn't really do anything for me."

There's towels and a face cloth, which is even better, and when Blitzø returns he sets a glass of water down for himself and takes a moment to clean them both up a bit before giving in to the desire to lay down. He curls on his side next to Astarion, his tail curling loosely against the vampire's leg.

"Can't fucking help with any other kinds of rehydration so hope you don't need that." Not that getting bitten by a vampire wouldn't be hot in the right situation, but he's pretty sure demon blood is not among the recommended food groups.

Astarion does not submit to being cleaned, but instead takes the cloth to fix himself up. It's an odd kind of intimacy he's nowhere near accepting from a one-time partner. He does, however, let his hand slip down to stroke a thumb along Blitzø's tail.

"No, not at all. Considerate of you, though."

The devil hadn't really struck him as someone likely to be a thoughtful lover, and he'd gone into this not expecting one. He's not sure if it's a pleasant surprise or not.

He just shrugs. "Not exactly any fun for future rounds if you end up too wrung out to get it up."

He will help himself to a sip of the water before settling down, because while he probably could keep going if Astarion wanted, it's also nice to just chill.

"So, never heard of the colour thing?"

"Mm? No," he says, unconcerned. "It rings a bell, I might have encountered it in a book at some point? But not in the heat of any particular moment."

"Makes sense." He tilts his head, still watching Astarion relaxing, looking for anything that might mean he's not entirely comfortable here.

"It's a thing to check in while you're, you know, fucking someone's brains out. Or anything like that where someone might not be ok. Green is good, red is bad, orange is slow it down."

He scratches his chin absently. There'd definitely been times in the past where he could have used this kind of information himself, so it feels a little dumb telling Astarion now but he's... a little worried.

"Listen, I don't give a fuck if you want me to rail you until you lose yourself, but I need to know that you're fine with it too. And if anyone keeps going after you've wanted to stop or called red, I'll fucking shoot them myself."

Astarion has some other questions now (why those colours? are these used instead of a safeword, or alongside it?) but that's something to look up on his own time.

When Blitzø goes on to offer to - protect him? - his lips twist into a joyless smile, but he doesn't laugh. That didn't go down well when he was accused of being a prude, after all.

"I'm fine with it, darling. More than fine. Thank you."

He doesn't believe that for a second but it's Astarion's choice if he wants to say anything more about it. Instead he curls on his side again, facing Astarion but not touching him beyond the light brush of his tail.

"So do you talk or sleep or want me to fuck off? I'm not good at this whole... after thing."

Astarion does laugh, now, but there's more relief to it than anything.

"Gods, neither am I. I was going to go - I don't really sleep anyway."

He gently dislodges Blitzø's tail and then sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Oh thank Satan. Usually I sneak out when they fall asleep but that wouldn't have fucking worked here."

Usually... after staying a while enjoying the stupid fantasy that he could stay if he wanted. Like it could ever mean anything. At least here there's some reassurance in the fact that they don't have to pretend.

He lets Astarion get up first, watching the way he moves... and then seeing those marks. He lets out a low whistle.

"That's fucking detailed work. Must have taken a while."

"...One long night."

He rolls his shoulders.

"I don't suppose you can read it? It's Infernal. The language of the Hells, where I come from."

There's a temptation to make a crude joke, but he's still feeling pleasantly relaxed and can't really come up with anything good, so just shakes his head.

"Fuck no, we speak the same shit humans do, since so many of the fuckers are down there. Wouldn't have even known it was another language if you hadn't said.

"What's it mean, wrong way, please turn over?"

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