In The Grey | By : LadyJanelly Category: A through F > Forgotten Realms Views: 4746 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Forgotten Realms series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimers and crap: See previous posts.
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Entreri was still as a statue, kneeling on the rough rocky ground. His booted heels touched each other. Hands rested on his thighs, and he waited. Drizzt stared at his back for long moments, struggling with his desires, his needs. He reached slender fingers out, but stopped them a breath away from the sleek softness of the dark hair in front of him. For all that the assassin seemed calm, strong, Drizzt knew he was a person, that he felt pain, perhaps even fear.
I cannot do this... he told himself. His fingers trembled with need. The hunger welled up inside of him, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. He swallowed and stepped closer. He knew that he could not hold out forever. Sooner or later, he would do this. He touched the soft hair in front of him, so incongruous on such a hard man.
He felt, rather than heard, the man's sharp intake of breath. It was written in the way his shoulders rose, his spine straightened a little more. He tangled his fingers in that soft hair, clenching firm at the nape of his neck. Entreri went still in his grip, some of the tension left his posture. He could not begin to guess what went on in the man's mind, he was only glad that this was given to him, that he was not taking something that wasn’t offered at all.
He sank to his knees behind Entreri. If he can chose to take this, I can chose to do it now, while I have the control to not be a beast, a monster....a drow.
With his free hand, he stroked the strong shoulder. His hand was firm yet slow.
"Just do it." Entreri's voice was tight, as his composure began to fray around the edges. The linen of his shirt slid a little under the graceful elven fingers.
The scar was old. In another place, under true light, it would have been easy to overlook. But blood never moves the same when the vessels have been crushed and torn, no matter how much time passes. It wouldn’t have shown to true light, but darkvision showed Drizzt the mirrored arch of a human bite at the place where Entreri's neck met his shoulder.
He traced the old mark with the tips of his fingers.
"Stop." Hissed Entreri. Drizzt shivered. He tightened his grip on the dark hair for a moment, and to him it felt more like he was reassuring the man instead of threatening him. Something began to shift. The hunger eased, he began to see beyond his pain again. He bent low, running his lips over the scar, flicking out his tongue to better feel its shape, to know its taste.
"I'll kill you." Entreri promised. "I will kill you for this." Yet he didn’t struggle, he didn’t fight the touch he claimed he would commit murder to stop.
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