[Now there's a sight. Winter's might share a measly 8 strength with him, but he has a sturdy frame, complimentary of his height. He's quite nice to look at without the shirt on, and the way those void-black tendrils quiver across his skin only draws the vampire's attention with keen intrigue.
He gets to see them even more up close when Winter closes the distance between them, his hands positioned at his hips, only to drag upwards and feel the planes of muscles around his torso, then the ridges of his ribs. The very idea of being touched like this, with actual intent to explore, no facade of manipulation being worn by Astarion, threatens to drag a shiver up his spine. Oh yes, it's pleasant. Though all of it is right now.
Instead, he returns the favor, alighting his palms on the other's broad chest.]
Very leveled, thank you.
[He says, dumbly, simply enjoying the feeling. The sight. His fingers trail toward a dark, sinuous tattoo barely moving against Winter's skin.]
Your markings are fascinating.
[Unlike his scars, which are indeed fascinating, but in a dreadfully morbid way.]
no subject
He gets to see them even more up close when Winter closes the distance between them, his hands positioned at his hips, only to drag upwards and feel the planes of muscles around his torso, then the ridges of his ribs. The very idea of being touched like this, with actual intent to explore, no facade of manipulation being worn by Astarion, threatens to drag a shiver up his spine. Oh yes, it's pleasant. Though all of it is right now.
Instead, he returns the favor, alighting his palms on the other's broad chest.]
Very leveled, thank you.
[He says, dumbly, simply enjoying the feeling. The sight. His fingers trail toward a dark, sinuous tattoo barely moving against Winter's skin.]
Your markings are fascinating.
[Unlike his scars, which are indeed fascinating, but in a dreadfully morbid way.]