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Nocturnale	By : Skullbearer Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1934 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Nocturnale Interlude- Sweet Sleep
Following the footsteps
Of a rag doll dance
We are entranced
Spellbound
Spellbound, Siouxie and the Banshees

It was the middle of the night, and the room Raistlin shared with Dalamar was pitch black.
The human mage turned irritably in his bed, trying to find a comfortable position. He was exhausted and it was late, yet sleep was proving elusive. By all rights, he should be asleep by now, he thought bitterly. He and Dalamar had put on a performance that evening and the exertions had been enough to drain him of what little stamina he possessed. By the end, he'd been looking forward to falling into bed, even without his lover.
It had been Dalamar who had ordered their room in the /Pig and Whistle/, but he had made it quite clear to his lover that he didn't want them to sleep together. As much as Raistlin understood why the Dark elf wanted them to sleep apart, it was little consolation. Even so, at first, Raistlin hadn't disputed the point, although it made him feel sick to his bones. But as the days passed and his defences against Fistandantilus became stronger, and it became clear that the lich simply didn't possess the power to control him so easily, the red-robed human wondered if Dalamar's fears might be going a little too far. The thoughts made the loss even more poignant.
With a tired sigh, Raistlin tried to banish his thoughts. Perhaps if he emptied his mind of all thought, he might get some sleep. The effort was a fruitless one, and his mind kept running over the same old paths it had for the past few hours. It was incredibly exasperating; he /needed/ sleep, they would put on another show tomorrow, and it wouldn't exactly pull in the crowds if he was to fall asleep halfway through a performance, although it would probably look somewhat entertaining.
He lay back with a sigh, staring up into the suffocating blackness of the room. While the windows might not fit, the shutters did, and not a chink of outside light could creep in. Eyes opened, eyes closed, it made no difference. When one can't see, the other senses become very acute, and while the inn was dark, it wasn't exactly quiet. Raistlin could hear people clearing up downstairs, the tromp of feet outside, Caramon's loud snores in the room across from theirs.
Dalamar gave a sigh, and rolled over. Raistlin could hear the frame of his bed creak. The bedclothes rustled and the human mage wondered if he wasn't the only one unable to sleep. He was about to speak when the elf gave a soft groan, followed by the slick sounds of flesh against flesh.
The Red Robe felt his cheeks burn, torn between the urge to pull the pillow over his head to shut out the sound and give his lover some privacy, and the sudden desire to listen. After all, it was nothing he hadn't heard before -although admittedly he had been participating at the time- and if anyone had the right to listen in, he did.
Another groan, slightly louder this time, ending in a low sigh, and the soft sounds of skin rubbing against skin increased. Raistlin closed his eyes as his mind painted an erotic picture of what the darkness hid from him. Dalamar lying on his back, legs spread wide in invitation, aroused and aching, running one hand over his erection. Raistlin shuddered and bit back a moan. The elf had no such qualms, letting his breath out in a low hiss, the sound now slightly ragged.
He'd be stroking himself in time with his breathing, Raistlin's mind teased, running those ever-so skilled hands up as he inhaled, then down as the air left his lungs. His eyes would be closed, his head thrown back, his lips swollen like they always are when he slides into you, no matter how much you've been kissing.
The human bit a corner of his pillow, sliding one hand down his own body without thinking, then snatching it back. Another gasp, a hiss, that low, growling hum he did when he's getting close to the edge.
"Ah..." A soft sigh of pleasure.
Raistlin's mouth was dry, struggling with the urge to join Dalamar in bed, or quietly explain to the Dark elf that he just needed to /ask/ and that yes, he would be perfectly happy to help him with his little problem.
Another sigh. His skin would be slick with sweat at this point, his covers clinging to him and leaving nothing to the imagination. He'd be digging his nails into his flesh about now too, that one point when he liked a little pain, not so hard as to draw blood, but enough so the pain mixed with the pleasure in a way the elf always seemed to find delicious.
Another gasp, harder, and again Raistlin's imagination teased him with images of what he couldn't see. He'd be shaking slightly, perhaps arching up a little. His eyes would be closed, teeth gritted, the muscles in his neck taut. The red wizard bit his lip, remembering how often he had nibbled his way down the elf's throat in moments like this.
Dalamar would be close now, and if the hands on him had been Raistlin's, the human mage would have slid down and taken the Dark elf's erection into his mouth, and this time he was unable to repress a shiver at the memory of the sounds Dalamar usually made at that point.
"Ah... oh." A deep hiss. "Raistlin..."
For a shocked moment, the human wondered if the elf had caught him eavesdropping, then he understood. He felt his face burn, the white-hot burn of arousal blazing up his spine and Dalamar gave another, deeper groan, murmuring his name again. It was unbelievable erotic, and Raistlin clenched his fists against the urge to climb into the Dark elf's bed. He /wanted/ Dalamar every bit as much as the other mage wanted him, and it seemed the height of stupidity to hold back. But still...
Raistlin stared over at Dalamar's bed. This was going too far. He understood the Dark elf's fears -he felt the same- but this separation was becoming a torment.
As if in agreement, there was a rustle of bedclothes and a loud gasp as the Dark elf reached the edge and slid over it. Raistlin bit his lip at the image the sounds evoked; Dalamar, skin shining with sweat, alternately grinding his teeth and opening his mouth to gasp, muscles straining under the force of his release.
The Red Robe lay quite still, his body burning and his hands itching to touch the Dark elf as his lover's breathing slowed. There was another rustle as Dalamar rolled over, no doubt attempting to go to sleep.
Sleep was the last thing of Raistlin's mind as he lay there in the dark, staring over at the elf's bed. He was achingly aroused and longed to touch and be touched.
He sighed; they really needed to reconsider their sleeping arrangements. As it was, it would probably be best to take a leaf from Dalamar's book, he wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise.
He waited until the Dark elf's breathing had slowed into sleep, smiling ruefully up at the ceiling. His hands made quick work of the old robes he slept in, sliding down his body to close on his erection.
He didn't bother teasing himself; he was tired and lonely, and just wanted to take care of this so he could get to sleep. Raistlin's mind easily recalled the images of Dalamar's pleasure, and he smiled, letting his head fall back as he stroked himself in time with his breathing. The almost painful ache of his arousal changed to a slow, delicious burn. A familiar sensation, although the human had rarely had to evoke it himself, Dalamar was usually more than happy to do that.
Raistlin closed his eyes, moving faster; he had been close to begin with, and wasn't in the mood to draw this out any longer than he had to. The sweet ache was building in the pit of his belly, and he shivered, thin muscles tightening as the edge approached.
The shuddered again, then arched back as he climaxed with a gasp, hot seed spilling over his hands. The cold air hit his lungs with such force that he nearly started coughing again, and for a moment he stared up at the ceiling, fighting back a spasm and breathing hard.
Finally, the tightness passed, and he relaxed. He usually felt tired after sex, and self-pleasuring was no exception. He closed his eyes, the covers sticking into his damp skin as he rolled over.
The room was quiet, and for a moment, Raistlin wondered if something was off, then he noticed that Dalamar wasn't breathing, and as the human mage listened, he heard the Dark elf roll over abruptly, facing away from him.
Raistlin buried his face in the pillow, feeling his face burn. Apparently, Dalamar hadn't been as sound asleep as he'd hoped, and he hadn't been the only one eavesdropping.
They definitely needed to talk about their sleeping arrangements.

Skull Bearer.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Nocturnale