Unexpected Benefits of a Merry Drunk
An AU Post Servant of the Shard Tale
The staff of The Bouncing Buccaneer was understandably nervous when a drow strolled in and sat down. The tavern was in its busiest hour, so there wasn't any time to spare being frozen in horror, and likely they hoped that serving Jarlaxle quickly would get him out of their tavern faster. Jarlaxle almost laughed at the sight of the barmaids whispering and the tavern master grabbing a bottle of red wine and a glass and practically shoving a maid towards him.
When the barmaid delivered the bottle and glass, she almost dropped the gold coin Jarlaxle gave her in return.
With a flick of his wrist, Entreri signaled he wanted a glass as well, so the pale and shaking barmaid returned and carefully placed one at his elbow. Jarlaxle poured them both a glass, which Entreri sipped on slowly.
A few minutes later, a different pale and shaking barmaid returned with the meal of the day: mutton and potato stew with a basket of rye and pumpernickel breads. A bowl of creamy butter was also provided.
"If it were less about fear, then I could use you as a sideshow attraction," Entreri said, nabbing a slice of pumpernickel.
"Sideshow?" Jarlaxle protested. "I am the main show." He drank half his glass of wine. It tasted rich and full. "Mmm." Given he was thirsty as well as hungry, he drained the rest of the glass and poured himself a new one before he started eating. He dipped a piece of pumpernickel in his stew and nibbled on it.
Entreri snorted, although Jarlaxle had a point. Especially with his colorful clothing and outgoing nature, Jarlaxle would be the main show. "Unusual wine," he noted, taking another sip. The wines in Calimshan weren't usually so full-bodied or sweet. "I'd try to ask for the type and maker, but they'd probably faint before they could answer."
Jarlaxle grinned. "We could make good coin presenting me as some feat of humankind over the savage beast. How would you like to be Artemis the Drowtamer? People could hold conversations with me and marvel at the perfect Common you had taught me."
Entreri nearly swallowed his food wrong at "Artemis the Drowtamer." Leave it to Jarlaxle to take an idea and lead it to its most ridiculous conclusion. "Yes," he drawled, not to be had. "I could gesture to your perfect table manners and your polite way of speech. They would be awed by how charming you are." Had he said that? Why did he say that? He forged on to cover it up. "People would pay no small amount of gold to witness the sight."
Jarlaxle laughed. "Once word got around, you could easily make a hundred gold a day merely standing around and looking important. What we need is a good speech to hook people in. We're practically set already." He tapped his lower lip. "You can claim to have found me as a child and trained me out of my ferocious ways."
Entreri snickered and took another sip of wine, noticing that he'd managed to drink most of it already. He generally tried to consume alcohol slowly in order to avoid tipsiness, but this wine was far more appealing to taste than any he'd ever had. "Yes." He paused, tripping over Jarlaxle's sentence suddenly. "Wait. Did I find you when you were a child? Or when I was a child? Or, rather, both? Because even though you are, in fact, older, we look to be roughly the same age. People would buy that we're the same age, but not that I'm older." He vaguely noted that this conversation was getting stranger by the second.
Jarlaxle ate a bite of his stew and thought. "Then we could say I was a savage enemy you defeated in battle and took as a slave, and naturally you found that I was uneducated and barbaric in every respect, but as a human, you molded me into a civilized being. I went from grunting and wearing a loincloth to wearing beautiful cloth of gold and mother of pearl, from a blank-faced stinking animal to a smiling, sophisticated person."
Entreri laughed. This was shocking by itself, given he rarely did and especially out of genuine humor. However, he was further surprised by how tickled he really was. Jarlaxle had molded the scenario into a caricature of the most ludicrous version of Northern Faerun's ancient stories of "civilizing" slaves from Southern Faerun. "Loincloth," he teased, topping off both their glasses. "They might pay just to see you wearing a golden loincloth decorated with mother of pearl."
Wondering where in the Nine Hells that quip had come from, Entreri covered up his sudden discomfort by taking another sip of wine and grabbing more pumpernickel.
"Might? I assure you they would," Jarlaxle said. He preened. "Many females have paid me merely to strip down to my waist."
Entreri groaned. He should have seen that retort coming. Then the wicked streak reared up again. "Oh? How much did they pay?"
Jarlaxle gave Entreri a seductive, half-lidded gaze. Slowly, with sinuous grace, he stood up. He unpinned his cape and draped it across the chair. Then he unbuttoned his vest and shrugged out of it. He draped that across the back of the chair too. Finally, he unbuttoned and slipped off his shirt, using it as a veil before teasingly revealing himself and discarding the shirt in the same manner as his other garments. "What do you think they paid?"
"500 gold," Entreri said without thinking. His skills in price analysis had been refined and perfected over the course of his life, and Jarlaxle had a lithe, muscular physique with fine definition without too much bulk or exaggeration.
The room was suddenly hot. Entreri felt too warm. And several people were now staring Jarlaxle's way.
"That wasn't quite what I was driving at," Entreri managed to add, although not with his usual level of stoic confidence. He wasn't lying, but at the same time, his brain felt oddly fuzzy. Dammit. Am I drunk? How? I haven't even finished two glasses of wine!
Then he had a sinking feeling: If I am drunk...Jarlaxle is drunk.
"And yet you have evaluated me with the eye of an art collector," Jarlaxle teased, grinning. "You never cease to amaze me. Let us see if you can guess what I have been offered in order to see all of my beauty?" He unbuckled his belt.
Entreri shot to his feet, his wooden chair screeching across the scuffed floor. "Not here!" Even tipsy - or maybe genuinely drunk - he knew better than to allow Jarlaxle to continue.
Jarlaxle paused in the act of pulling his belt off. "What?"
"Not here," Entreri managed to repeat more calmly. Now that he was standing, the full effect of his wine consumption hit him: his muscles felt loose, his balance was vaguely unsteady, and his feet were numb. Carefully, he extracted gold from his pouch and put it on the table, paying for their meal. Even his fingers felt numb, he realized. He wanted to laugh again, except part of him was screaming danger. "I assume I can't waylay your desire to be naked, but let's move this upstairs first." He had to assume Jarlaxle was the Stripper Drunk. Or, rather, the Merry, Stripper Drunk.
Jarlaxle burst out laughing. "Upstairs? Why?" He raised his arms and put his hands on the back of his head, displaying himself. "Why should anyone be denied the sight of my beauty?" He snorted and chuckled. "Unless you want to collect payment first." Just getting that out with a straight face seemed beyond him.
Without further comment - because arguing would be fruitless - Entreri grabbed Jarlaxle's discarded clothing, tossing it over his shoulder. Then he grabbed Jarlaxle himself and tossed him over his shoulder, heading for the staircase. His gait wasn't that steady, but fortunately, Jarlaxle didn't weigh all that much. Carrying him wasn't an issue.
"I'm available later," Jarlaxle called, waving at the horrified onlookers.
Entreri was very glad Jarlaxle was proving to be a Merry Drunk.
He got them to their room without further problems, and he even managed to get them inside of their room without killing them with their own traps. He put Jarlaxle down by the drow's bed and tossed his discarded clothing over the footboard. "There. If you're a Stripper Drunk, you can have at it now without getting yourself arrested."
"Arrested? Why would anyone arrest me?" Jarlaxle pouted. "I am too beautiful to persecute."
"Persecute or prosecute?" Entreri asked, his lips quirking. He understood his problem, suddenly. Much to his horror, he was not only a Confessional Drunk but also a Horny Drunk. Things were probably getting ready to get wildly interesting depending on how Jarlaxle's style of being drunk meshed or didn't mesh with Entreri's.
Entreri ditched his boots, cloak, and weapons and stretched out on his own bed with cat-like grace.
"Prosecuting the beautiful is persecution," Jarlaxle declared with a chuckle. "When you see me, you will have to agree." He took off his belt and pulled off his boots, then unlaced his breeches. He slid them down his hips and let them fall around his ankles with purposeful seduction and stepped out of them. Clad only in his loincloth, he showed himself off. "Do you not agree? Arresting this would be a crime! Who could throw me in a dungeon?"
Entreri was semi-hard at the display. If he weren't tipsy, he'd either be alarmed or pissed off - alarmed at the mistake he was probably getting ready to make or pissed off to have been given wine that was apparently laced with a stronger drug. "I offer no arguments," he said, his voice velvety. His gaze traveled over Jarlaxle's ebony skin, and he imagined his hands following. Don't you dare, he ordered himself. Because that was going to work so well.
Jarlaxle grinned. He sauntered towards Entreri's bed. "You still haven't told me how much I am worth."
Entreri became fully hard at the sight of Jarlaxle sauntering toward him. "Easily 1000 gold," he murmured, dark eyes traveling to the loincloth. "But then again, I haven't seen all the goods, so maybe higher." Fuck, I'm doomed.
Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow and grinned. "You're right. I'm not playing fair. How shameful of me." He slowly took off his hat and eye patch, then untied his loincloth. He let it slip through his fingers and fall to the floor at his feet.
"What do you think now?" Jarlaxle asked silkily.
"3000 gold," Entreri said, the words zipping right past both his brain and his lips. Jarlaxle was as hard as he was, but it looked different with the ebony skin. Still, it was swollen and glistening at the tip, and Entreri thought it was beautiful. It had been an extremely long time since he'd found a male body beautiful. At least twenty years, he thought. Men weren't his usual fare.
He sat up, his own erection straining in his breeches now, and reached out a hand. Abruptly, he halted three inches from Jarlaxle's hip, because even drunk he was still him. And he would never sexually harm another person. "May I touch?"
Jarlaxle's eyes widened. They were a very bright, bright red. Not like rubies at all. Almost amethyst. He licked his lips, taking Entreri in. "Would you like to?"
Entreri felt the heat collecting in his face - arousal, excitement, need. He dragged his gaze upward, letting the mask drop as he met Jarlaxle's eyes. "I would." He shouldn't, but he could tell it wasn't going to stop him. Even when he was sober, he thought Jarlaxle was pretty. Or handsome. Perhaps both at once. And Jarlaxle had taken such a keen interest in him - pursuing him, singling him out, staying with him, offering friendship to him...
Yes, there was no way for Entreri to rein himself in now.
Jarlaxle smiled, looking into Entreri's eyes. "Then I would like you to."
A surge of arousal followed that proclamation, followed by a tender feeling Entreri couldn't name and suspected had surfaced only thanks to the alcohol's effect of lowering inhibitions. He kept his gaze pinned to Jarlaxle's and finished his move, caressing strong fingers over the soft, warm skin of Jarlaxle's hip. Something swelled in his chest the instant his fingertips made intimate contact with Jarlaxle's skin, and Entreri's lips parted as a result, although no sounds or words emerged.
Jarlaxle's smile became softer. He stepped closer. "May I sit on your lap?"
More heat flooded Entreri's face, and he nodded, still unable to speak. It felt like someone had inflated a large bubble in his chest, but as odd as the sensation was, it wasn't unpleasant.
Jarlaxle climbed onto the bed, straddled Entreri's lap, and sat down. He seemed very comfortable and assured of himself. His bared erection rested against Entreri's clothed one. "Would you like to touch me more?" he whispered.
Entreri nodded again, his hands stroking up Jarlaxle's sides, then sweeping around to caress down his back. The skin was so soft, so warm...it reminded Entreri of a woman's skin. It was also completely hairless, which was beautiful and exotic.
Entreri's hands returned to Jarlaxle's hips, stroking them gently, teasing both of them by not moving closer to his true desire. Then he leaned in and kissed Jarlaxle's lips, which were soft and sweet, still tasting of the wine. To Entreri, this was the closest he could come to something divine, but that wasn't a reaction he'd had to anyone before. No, this was different somehow. Powerful.
Jarlaxle moaned softly and mouthed Entreri's lips in return, gently savoring. "You taste delicious."
Entreri found his voice. "As do you," he murmured. His hands slipped around behind Jarlaxle, cupping his bottom and squeezing gently. The skin was a bit cool against Entreri's hands, so he rubbed and squeezed again, pulling Jarlaxle's hips closer to him in the process. At the same time, he kissed Jarlaxle again, mouthing his lips.
Jarlaxle moaned more loudly and shifted, his hips rocking against Entreri's. His hands found Entreri's shoulders. Jarlaxle gasped quietly throughout the kiss, eyes fluttering shut.
Overwhelmed by Jarlaxle's positive reactions to his touches, Entreri felt himself leaking, generating a wet spot on his clothing. He slipped his tongue into Jarlaxle's mouth, leisurely exploring and caressing, trying to drink Jarlaxle in. One hand remained on Jarlaxle's bottom, cupping and rubbing, and the other stroked up Jarlaxle's spine.
Jarlaxle pressed closer, slipping his arms around Entreri's neck loosely and continuing to rock his hips. He twitched and leaked against his partner. His tongue met Entreri's with the same gentle slowness with which the assassin explored his mouth. Little moans escaped throughout everything they did.
But Entreri didn't want Jarlaxle to have to please himself; it seemed wrong somehow. He broke the kiss. "Let me," he whispered, hoping that Jarlaxle needed his touch as much as he needed to give it. He reached between them, slipping one hand around Jarlaxle's erection and stroking it slowly. The skin was smooth, damp, hot, silky. Entreri could imagine his tongue against it, which came to him as no small surprise.
Jarlaxle looked at Entreri with shock. As soon as his partner's hand wrapped around him and stroked, his head snapped back with a gasp, eyes squeezed shut. A shiver traveled through him and into Entreri. "Yes." The assassin's further stroking drew a moan from him.
Entreri leaned forward and trailed kisses up the slope of Jarlaxle's neck. The drow was beautiful - even more beautiful while in pleasure. Entreri moaned against the soft skin of Jarlaxle's neck, stroking Jarlaxle's erection with steadfast patience, his own erection burning in vicarious pleasure.
Jarlaxle whimpered with every kiss. "Dos zhaun lu'oh ulu belbau ssrigg'tul," he said, slipping into Drow. Entreri caught the 'You know how to give', but he didn't understand what 'ssrigg'tul' was.
Entreri hoped the word meant 'pleasure,' though. "I want to give more," he murmured, running his thumb over Jarlaxle's wet tip and nuzzling his neck, dropping a kiss where he felt Jarlaxle's pulse.
Jarlaxle jerked and cried out. "Yes! Qualla belbau uns'aa mzild." This time, Entreri had no trouble. 'Please give me more'.
At the cry of pleasure and the request, Entreri stood and turned, setting Jarlaxle on the bed and kneeling between the drow's thighs. Jarlaxle couldn't possibly understand the true depth of this gift - couldn't begin to understand what it meant to Entreri and why he never did it for anyone - but Entreri felt compelled to give it. He reached out and traced the tip of Jarlaxle's erection with gentle fingertips. "May I use my mouth instead?" He had no idea what drow thought of oral sex - or if they did - and knew he'd best ask.
Jarlaxle looked at him with wide eyes. His erection twitched against Entreri's fingertips, wet. "Will you?"
Entreri's entire body was hot, and he was nearly light-headed. He nodded silently. A moment of terror followed, but he didn't retract the offer. If Jarlaxle would only accept...accept gracefully...accept graciously... If only the gift could be received with respect and care...
Entreri couldn't even finish the thought.
Jarlaxle bit his lip. Then a warm smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes. "Dos bel'la uns'aa." Literally, it meant 'You honor me'; in actual Drow discourse, it was a respectful way of accepting a gift.
Entreri recognized the phrase, and the impact of the words was so great he began trembling with pent up emotion. There was no way for him to respond in words and still hold himself together, so he simply sat on his heels and wrapped his fingers around Jarlaxle's base, holding him still. He extended his tongue, licking over the tip and collecting the sweet moisture there.
He had done this many times.
This was the first time he'd ever done it of his own volition.
Jarlaxle gasped loudly with pleasure and went limp, toppling back onto the mattress. Wetness welled up on his tip in response to Entreri's licking, and a tremor ran through Jarlaxle's body.
Adjusting to this shift, Entreri carefully drew the tip into his mouth, sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it. He had the motions memorized, but he'd never put any emotion into the act before. This time he tried to convey desire...and tenderness. Passion...and care. He lapped and sucked gently, reaching up with his free hand to caress Jarlaxle's inner thigh as well.
The assassin's effort paid off in the cry Jarlaxle let out. Then he moaned, "Bwael..." After a moment of panting, Jarlaxle elaborated, "Dosst norrs zhah l'jabbuk." Even though Entreri didn't know what 'norrs' meant, he could tell his partner was complimenting his mastery. 'Jabbuk' was the highest title a male could receive in the Drow language.
Entreri didn't have this mastery for any good reason, but Jarlaxle's cry of pleasure meant far more to him than anything anyone had offered before. He sucked Jarlaxle further into his mouth, running his tongue against the underside of his erection. Be gentle in return, he thought, but he couldn't ask it - for many, many reasons. Still, Entreri had seen too much savagery as a child to want anything of the sort as an adult.
Jarlaxle shivered and panted out moans, utterly still except for his involuntary quivering.
Reassured, Entreri sucked him further in, going as far as he comfortably could, then began a rhythm. If only you could know what this meant, Entreri thought, but the idea of revealing such a thing was terrifying. He wanted so much to give, to connect, to be known, to be...dare he even think it?...cherished. But a lifetime's worth of rejection and violence kept him away from others. Reaching out this way was dangerous, but Jarlaxle... If Jarlaxle would reciprocate...he would be incredibly worth it.
Jarlaxle's delicate, whimpering moans flowed freely, revealing how much his partner enjoyed what he did. "Dosst norrs zhah ji sseren, ji sel'tur, ji bwael..." From context clues, Entreri realized 'norrs' was mouth. Jarlaxle had just said his mouth was so hot, so soft, and so good.
The drow mercenary's body grew noticeably warmer, and Jarlaxle's skin became damp and glistening with sweat. Even so, he lay serenely.
Growing more comfortable, Entreri caressed Jarlaxle's hips with his hands, slightly speeding up his pace. He had always prided himself on meeting his lovers' needs, but this time it was deeply personal to him. As he relaxed more into the motion, he quietly moaned upon Jarlaxle. Pleasant sensory details began to register on him: how hot and smooth Jarlaxle was in his mouth, the way he throbbed, the lingering sweet taste...
Jarlaxle's moans increased in volume. "Khal abbil, zuch Usstan ssiggrin dos ph'zandeln. Tejmook'cinkjuu nindol nin Usstan daewl er'griff Usstan inbalus spoken thorn'kak." There was no way Entreri could follow all of that. What he gleaned was that Jarlaxle had always thought he was 'zandeln', and if not for something, he would have told Entreri so before now. The meaning of 'Tejmook'cinkjuu' escaped him.
The tone was unmistakably positive, though.
Entreri decided he would ask later and just let Jarlaxle talk. In fact, he found the mix of moans and talking to be soothing to him in his current state. The moans let him know that it felt good, and the talking kept him grounded in the moment, plugged it to who it was he was pleasuring. All his senses told him this was Jarlaxle: sight, smell, sound, and even touch. This was deeply helpful, given what he was fighting against.
With each passing moment, Entreri relaxed further, his body loosening up and allowing him to speed up and pour more passion into the movements. He slipped his hands under Jarlaxle's hips, once again cupping and squeezing his bottom.
"Ah!" Long, loud moans tore from Jarlaxle. He didn't try to move his hips on his own. Instead, he quivered in Entreri's grasp and leaked helplessly, throbbing.
Entreri used his leverage to pulse Jarlaxle's hips lightly, bringing Jarlaxle up to met him each time he pressed downward. At the same time, he sped up one last time, driven by the way Jarlaxle's hips quivered in his hands. After all of this, he would not fail to bring Jarlaxle to completion.
Jarlaxle's cries deepened, and he burst out, "Ji mzilt! Ji mzilt!" He was almost to the point of sobbing with pleasure. Those words struck through Entreri: 'So much'. It was no surprise that Jarlaxle came seconds later, trembling and gasping.
Entreri managed to tolerate staying put for the next part, thereby circumventing a mess, but he stood and retreated to the small bowl provided as a sink on the washstand, spitting and then rinsing out his mouth. When he turned back to face Jarlaxle, he was hit by a confusing mix of powerful emotions: run, stay, go, hide. His only choice was to return to Jarlaxle's side, though; if he did not, he was going to shatter.
He padded over to the bed, pulling Jarlaxle fully onto the mattress and then lying down beside him.
Jarlaxle whimpered and clung to him. "Dos ph'ussta khal abbil. Xunus Usstan xun xusst?" Unfortunately, that melodic phrase was the polite way of asking if he had transgressed. The literal translation was 'Did I do wrong', but it was closer to a Drow apology.
His partner was likely more sober than drunk at this point.
Entreri experienced a bizarre amount of relief. Thanks to his past experiences, he had expected something bad to happen to him at this stage, although he hadn't realized that was the issue until he heard Jarlaxle's question. "No," he whispered, wrapping his arms around Jarlaxle. Just stay with me. He kissed Jarlaxle's lips again, allowing a momentary tenderness to shine through his armor. "No...I wanted to. I am not sorry. Are you sorry?"
Jarlaxle sighed against Entreri's mouth and kissed gently in return. "No. Nindel m...That felt...very good. You belbaus folt ssrigg'tul. Mm...much pleasure. I have never had a lover do something like that."
Entreri suffered a pang of confusion. "No lover has used his or her mouth on you this way?"
Jarlaxle curled up against him, snuggling. "No one has ever given me that much pleasure from it. It did not feel at all the same as others. I never ask for it because it did not feel as good as other things. I did not know it could be good."
The drow mercenary added quietly, "And no males have ever offered. Only female humans...that is, they assume without talking that I want to do this before sex."
Entreri pressed closer to Jarlaxle, entwining their legs. Feeling Jarlaxle snuggling up to him soothed him in ways he did not understand. "I...rarely...offer. You may be sure that...it was a gift." Massive understatement.
Jarlaxle hugged him tightly. "I liked it. If this is a gift one may give, is it a gift that you want to receive? If it is, I would like to give it to you. It feels different when it is a gift. Very special."
Entreri's erection twitched at hearing this request, and his chest burned with his need - not the physical need, but the emotional need. "Yes." His voice came out as a whisper. He reached up and ran gentle fingertips over Jarlaxle's cheek. "From you, I would."
Jarlaxle lit up. He pressed his cheek against Entreri's fingertips, then turned his head and nuzzled them. "May I now?"
Even with the pause and the talking, Entreri hadn't completely lost his arousal. He nodded faintly. "You may." He realized he would probably feel better if Jarlaxle did - it would generate a mutual exchange, which would combat some of Entreri's darker experiences.
Jarlaxle's smile brightened still further. "Usstan harl'il'cik ulu dos," he said with sparkling eyes. That was the Drow saying one uttered when making an offering or a gift.
Entreri understood that well enough, so he stood and slipped out of his clothing, leaving it in a pile by Jarlaxle's. He was sober now - or sober enough, at least - but he still allowed himself a moment to pause. To let Jarlaxle take in the sight of him naked.
Jarlaxle's initial interest turned to awe and desire. "So beautiful."
Entreri felt himself grow harder at that, heat returning to his face. He stretched out on the bed again, once more cat-like.
Jarlaxle made room and then crawled between Entreri's legs. He settled on his stomach and leaned forward, his eyes falling mostly shut as he kissed and licked down Entreri's length to the assassin's tip. "Sweet," he murmured.
Entreri relaxed, the feeling of Jarlaxle's tongue and sight of his desire coaxing the tension from him. A faint moan escaped him. He reached down, running a hand over Jarlaxle's arm, needing the contact.
Jarlaxle moaned faintly and suckled Entreri's tip, slipping his hand into Entreri's and squeezing at the same time. His eyes were closed, and a look of bliss had taken over his face.
Entreri hadn't even realize he'd been lifting up his head until that moment. He moaned and let his head fall back on the bed, opening his thighs further in invitation. "Yes..." Jarlaxle's mouth was hot and gentle as he sucked, and the drow's clear show of pleasure assured Entreri that he was wanted. He squeezed Jarlaxle's hand in return. Can I keep you?
Jarlaxle held onto Entreri's hand as he took him deeper, responding to the invitation. He moaned as Entreri slid into his mouth. Then, sighing and humming in the back of his throat, he licked and sucked as if to melt the assassin.
Entreri let himself slip into that pleasure, the vibrations of Jarlaxle's humming traveling through him and making him moan. He was hot and throbbing, leaking and relaxed in ways he had not been in many years. Reaching out with his free hand, he ghosted fingertips over Jarlaxle's cheek. Stay. When this is done, please stay.
Jarlaxle whimpered and tilted his head to catch Entreri's caresses upon his cheek. At the same time, he worked Entreri over with aching devotion, shivering slightly in arousal. He squeezed Entreri's hand.
Entreri's moans grew deeper, his body reacting powerfully to Jarlaxle's devotion and care. "Gods...Jarlaxle..." He held Jarlaxle's hand tightly, experiencing the strangest need to somehow bring Jarlaxle closer or pull him into him. He caressed Jarlaxle's cheek again. "Yes..." The word itself was an aching moan.
Jarlaxle moaned in return, clinging to Entreri's hand just as firmly. He panted and took Entreri deeper, his eyelids fluttering.
"Ah, gods!" Once again, Jarlaxle could not know how different this was for Entreri - how he normally made no noise, how he rarely expressed anything in bed, how he tended to give rather than receive because it kept him safer. This moment was also a gift, just of a very different kind. "So close," he gasped, not wanting it to be over so soon but also unable to hold out against both the talent of Jarlaxle's mouth and his passion. Entreri moaned again just watching the way Jarlaxle poured himself into the motions.
Jarlaxle was moaning as well. His brow was furrowed in pleasure and arousal as he stroked Entreri with his mouth, lavishing attention on every inch of the assassin. He squeezed and caressed his partner's hand.
With such care and pleasure aimed his way, Entreri couldn't hang on. "Jarlaxle," he moaned, half in warning, and squeezed his hand harder as he came. Even as literal liquid departed from him, so did an emotional tide. A deep sense of peace settled within him - one he'd never experienced before. He had no idea what it meant.
Jarlaxle only shivered and swallowed after Entreri was done, then gently licked his partner clean. When his mouth was free, he murmured, "So beautiful, and so passionate, too. Usstan l'amith dos. That is what Drow say when the sex is good." He met Entreri's gaze softly. "It means...I enjoy you."
Since Entreri had not let go of Jarlaxle's hand, he pulled him up his body until he lay on his chest. He stroked a hand down Jarlaxle's back, once again enjoying the feeling of the skin there. "Usstan l'amith dos," he murmured in return. "And not just for what your mouth can do."
Jarlaxle beamed and snuggled up against the assassin. He made a happy sound in the back of his throat.
"Let us not merely...share...this once," Entreri said, caressing Jarlaxle's back slowly. "Let us be..." Close. Lovers. Together. Special.
Jarlaxle's eyes widened. Then he hugged Entreri tightly. "Venta'kyorl. Prioritized lovers."
"Yes," Entreri said quickly, empathically. "That is an excellent way of putting it. We do not have...a common thing." He pressed a kiss to Jarlaxle's lips.
Jarlaxle let out a soft sigh and kissed Entreri in return. "We have a unique connection and investment. I felt its potential. This is why I persisted past your warnings that you worked alone and did not believe a partner could add anything useful to your life."
Entreri nodded slowly. He'd had extremely mixed feelings about Jarlaxle pursuing him, but now that he felt clear-headed and peaceful, he felt it was a good thing.
No, he could not regret this night.
And Jarlaxle was worth far more than a measly 3,000 gold.