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a crooked touch one-shot by eyes_of_the_lamb (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51788869) Takes place mid part 8.
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a crooked touch one-shot by eyes_of_the_lamb (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51788869) Takes place mid part 8.
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a crooked touch one-shot by eyes_of_the_lamb (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51788869) Takes place mid part 8.
Listen to the dying sun reflected in your eyes by Istra5 MP3 song. the dying sun reflected in your eyes song from Istra5 is available on Audio.com. The duration of song is 16:10. This high-quality MP3 track has 583.424 kbps bitrate and was uploaded on 19 Jun 2024. Stream and download the dying sun reflected in your eyes by Istra5 for free on Audio.com ā your ultimate destination for MP3 music.
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The dying sun reflected in your eyes, by eyes of the lamb. Mountain air isn't like regular air, it's sweet and cold and it chills Tav from the inside out, filling his lungs with ice and bringing goosebumps to his skin. He's never been this high up before, well, except when he was hurtling through the skies of Avernus in a nautiloid, but back then, he was a little too preoccupied to enjoy things like this. Thank the gods they're out of the underdark, thank the gods for the sun. Tav watches it slowly between the peaks, bathing the clouds in pink and orange, drawing a vast black curtain down both sides of the valley below. The flat stone he's sitting on cools beneath him as the minutes pass and the stars wink into the sky above, one by one. Distantly, he hears the clatter of his companion setting up camp for the night, making dinner, washing dishes. Once or twice, Tav hears his own name, but he doesn't answer and no one comes to fetch him. What is this feeling? It's like he could just sit here and breathe and watch the sky for hours, thinking of nothing at all. It's not happiness, not exhaustion, it's just enjoying the view. Tav stirs, and that feeling he almost had a name for swiftly drains away. He glances over his shoulder. In the dying light of sunset, Astarian looks ethereal. The silvery strands of his hair catch and hold all of the colors from the sky above. He's more beautiful than any of the stars and much, much closer, close enough to touch. Tav almost does, before he thinks better of it. Astarian's new habit of crawling into Tav's bedroll at night for a drink and a quick handsy tumble doesn't mean Tav has permission to touch him at other times. For sunset in a week, Tav says, didn't want to miss it, want to watch. Astarian sniffs. It's almost over. That's the nice thing about sunsets, there's always going to be another one. The words are hardly out of Tav's mouth before he realizes how goddamned stupid he is. Until a few weeks ago, it had been two fucking centuries since Astarian saw a sunset, and if they don't find a cure for their tadpoles and the githyanky crush Lizelle is so desperate to find, who knows how many more there will be. But to Tav's surprise, Astarian doesn't ridicule him. It's like he didn't hear him at all. There's a faraway look on his face as he watches the last of the light dwindle into the west. He doesn't blink, not once. It occurs to Tav that he's seen enough sunsets in his life, actually. He'd rather watch Astarian watching a sunset, even if it's one of the last ones they'll get. Especially if it's one of the last. So he does. He watches the dying sun reflected in Astarian's eyes, and a shiver trembles through him, a sweet ache in his chest. It frightens him. Tav's died to a hag's claws, and come back to life choking on blood. He's killed dozens of people, and turned his sword against his own friends. But nothing terrifies him more than this quiet, desperate craving to draw Astarian close and hold him until the sun comes back up. And then it's over. The mountains are dark, and the only light Astarian's silver curls is the moonshine. Astarian blinks, coming back from his reverie, and Tav averts his eyes. He hopes Astarian didn't notice him staring. Nothing to write home about, after all, Astarian says. You missed dinner, darling. Daryl left out some bread and cheese. I do believe he's mistaking you for a particularly large and gleeful rodent. Wasn't hungry. Tav's heartbeat quickens. Are you? I might be. Astarian paces slowly around the rocks, till he's standing in front of Tav, close enough to reach out and push Tav's knees apart. For a second, Tav hopes that he will. But no. Blood comes first. And then, if Astarian's in the mood for something more, Tav will happily give Tav a kiss. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian looks at Tav. Astarian's scent drifts over him, heady and chilling in a way entirely different from the mountain air. It's like holding on to a wild animal, coiled to spring away at the first sign of danger. Tav can barely feel Astarian's weight, but he feels the tension in his muscles. Neither of them are used to this yet. Astarian still doesn't trust him, but Tav's blood is enough to keep him coming back. One day he'll run dry, or Astarian will tire of him, but not yet. The camp behind him is quiet. Tav's certain everyone's bedded down for the night. It's not quite privacy, but it's close. Help yourself, Tav says, there in his neck. Astarian runs a sharp fingernail along his jaw. You'll wish you'd eaten first, Tav shifts. Predictably, he's getting hard, but he doesn't think Astarian can feel it yet. Probably, but it's my funeral. Astarian snorts out a laugh and leans in. The fingernail along Tav's jaw turns into a clawed hand, gripping Tav's skull. When his fangs sink in, Tav trembles in ecstasy and tightens his hold on Astarian's waist. Astarian growls in response, a low, predatory sound that lights a fire in Tav's core. Astarian snorts out a laugh and leans in. The fingernail along Tav's jaw turns into a clawed hand, gripping Tav's skull. When his fangs sink in, Tav trembles in ecstasy and tightens his hold on Astarian's waist. Astarian growls in response, a low, predatory sound that lights a fire in Tav's core. The sun's gone. Now there's only the night with all its wicked pleasures. With his teeth still in Tav's neck, Astarian takes Tav's hand and presses it between his legs. Tav cups him gently through his britches. He feels Astarian stirring, growing harder as he drinks, and Tav's breathing quickens. He's already lightheaded, but it's not from blood loss. Not yet. Out here? Tav asks. It's not easy to talk while Astarian's drinking. His voice is weak, strained. You could go to your tent. Astarian slides free of his neck, panting, and drags Tav's face towards his. His lips are bloody. He looks frenzied. I'll have you here, unless you object. Tav shakes his head, dry-mouthed. He wants to lick the blood from Astarian's mouth. But before he can try, Astarian's out his throat again. His hips rock under Tav's hand, a silent demand Tav can't ignore. Tav doesn't, unless Astarian screeches. He's not sure he can do that one-handed anyway. He braces the heel of his palm against the hard bulge of Astarian's clothed cock, and within moments Astarian's grinding himself against Tav's hand with abandon, moaning his approval onto Tav's neck. God, Tav says, half delirious with desire. God, you're beautiful. His vision flickers. He's losing feeling in his hands, shivering from the cold. But he'd never tell Astarian to stop. Not until he's had his fill, but close enough to it. It's Astarian who pulls away, a curse on his lips. Like he's just remembered Tav is in an endless faunt of blood, this immortal man with attendant limitations. His hips fall still, his cock twitching under Tav's hand, and he grips Tav by the chin. Not too much, darling. Not enough, Tav breathes, staring into his eyes. Astarian kisses him, just long enough for Tav to taste his own blood. It feels more like Astarian is trying to pacify him than anything else. Tav surmised by now to his quiet, hollow disappointment that Astarian doesn't like to kiss him for his own sake. It's always a means to an end. So Tav doesn't ask for it anymore. Instead, he squeezes Astarian's cock and asks, Can I taste you? Here? By all means, with that talented mouth of yours to work, I certainly won't complain. Tav sinks gratefully to his knees and guides Astarian's legs apart with quiet reverence. Astarian's hand settles into his hair, nails pricking his scalp. Tav consents his impatience, an unspoken command for Tav to get on with it. But Tav's happier here than anywhere else. This is his favorite place to be. Until Astarian actually gives an order, Tav's going to savor every moment. He cups Astarian's thighs and admires the thick, full outline of his cock as it strains against the fabric of his breeches. Tav can smell the musty scent of Astarian's arousal. Astarian doesn't leak buckets like Tav does, but there's a coin-sized sweat patch at the tip of his erection, a testament to Tav's ministrations earlier. It makes Tav's mouth water. And suddenly, he's the impatient one, undoing Astarian's laces with single-minded frenzy. Hell's teeth, Astarian gasps, one thigh tensing under Tav's hands as Tav takes them in. Oh darling, this won't last long. Consider yourself warned. Tav moans, drunk on him, his taste. God, he knows he's being too loud. There's not even a wall of canvas around them to muffle sounds he's making, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters but Astarian's pleasure. Besides, Tav has a working theory that the louder he is, the more vocal Astarian becomes in return. And he loves, loves, loves to hear Astarian's voice when he's down here. It's possibly his favorite part. Astarian's fingers card through his hair, tugging, not enough to break his rhythm, but enough to make little sunspots of pain dance across his vision. Tav wouldn't mind if he was rougher, but his mouth is too busy to ask. You like that, don't you? Go on, touch yourself. If you even need to, eager little thing. Tav obeys and slides his hand into his britches, groaning as his fingers find his aching cock. He doesn't dare do anything but fondle himself in short, rhythmless strokes. They'll be over too quickly otherwise. Fluid seeps over his knuckles, soaking his smalls, but Tav doesn't have the time or the inclination to take them off. Hmm. Astarian's voice takes on a darker, smoky quality. I've changed my mind. Give me your hand. Tav doesn't think. He yanks his slick hand out of his britches and lifts it blindly over his head, working his mouth on Astarian's cock all the while. He feels Astarian's hand wrap around his wrist in the soft, wet sensation of Astarian's tongue moving between his fingers. Tav makes an involuntary noise, somewhere between a whimper and a keen. Astarian's cock stiffens, pulsing in Tav's mouth. For a moment, Tav thinks he's about to cum. He seals his lips and readies himself to swallow. But with a breathy shiver, Astarian gets himself under control. He lets go of Tav's hand and laughs, a little surprised, Tav thinks, from the sound. Carry on, love. I didn't tell you to stop. Tav needs a moment to recover. If Astarian had spilled in his mouth just now, Tav's certainty would have followed suit. He pulls off and licks a wet strip to the underside of Astarian's cock, taking the opportunity to breathe. Astarian moans, and his hand relocates, moving from Tav's hair to the side of his head, cradling his ear. He brushes his thumb over Tav's earlobe and pinches, ever so briefly. Tav gasps, shuddering. Now it's his turn to be surprised. He knew Astarian's ears were sensitive, but his own? No one's ever tried. Astarian? Yes. Tav shakes his head. No, he doesn't want any distractions. He wants to kneel here between Astarian's legs and practice his love, his devotion, the only way he knows how, in Astarian's clothes. His cock is sheened with Tav's saliva and flushed rosy-pink, darker towards the tip, his sacs drawn in and tight underneath. Tav's pleasure is immaterial, incidental at best. Never mind. He takes Astarian in his mouth again, intent in drawing him towards his feet. For once, it's also a bid to distract him, and it works. Astarian moans again, loud as thin and edgy higher in pitch. If anyone's awake in camp, they'll surely hear. Tav has just enough presence of mind to say a silent apology. And then Astarian grips his head in both hands and thrusts forward in an urgent whimper. Tav's thoughts evaporate. He's nothing but flesh, a willing vessel. Distantly, he feels a wave of heat sheer through him as his own orgasm hits, and he feels untouched in his britches. But that matters far, far less than the blissful pain of Astarian's nails in his scalp as he pushes down Tav's throat as far as he'll go, and he comes and comes, gasping Tav's name. Tav clings to him, drinking until there's nothing more to drink, and then he mouths gently at the head of Astarian's cock until Astarian yanks him off. That's quite enough, darling. Get up here. It's your turn. Tav slumps obediently onto the rock next to Astarian, too boneless and overwhelmed to process what Astarian just said, until Astarian palms the front of his trousers and says, with another startled laugh, Oh, not. Had fun down there, did you? Mm-hmm. Next, you'll be thanking me for the pleasure, I'm sure. Tav turns his head and looks at Astarian with heavy-lidded affection. Thank you, he says hoarsely. I enjoyed that. Astarian stares at him for a long moment. There's a faint smile on his lips, but Tav can't read the expression in his eyes. All he sees is moonlight in Astarian's curls and the elegant taper of his ears. Just looking at Astarian is a privilege Tav feels like he should be paying for sometimes. Better than a sunset, Astarian asks. Tav bites his tongue. He was about to say something entirely foolish. Something like, not if I'm watching the sunset with you. Do I have to choose? Astarian blows air through his nose. Not as yet, I suppose. Tav watches as Astarian laces himself back into his breeches and brushes invisible dirt from his clothes. These nights always end too early, long before the sun returns. Tav wishes he had a way to make them last, but maybe it's better that they don't. See you in the morning, Tav says softly. Astarian gives him a wordless nod and he's gone, vanished into the night in the direction of his tent. It's dark and Tav's low on blood. He doesn't think he'll have energy to pitch his tent, but it's not a bad night to sleep under the stars. He can find the bread and cheese Gale left out for him, crawl into his bedroll and pass out until dawn. Then it'll be time to wake up and go through the motions all over again. Every day brings its own fresh horrors and Tav's not done yet. But there'll be another sunset, at least one more, and maybe Astarian will watch it with him.
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