His Scarf
Azriel/Cassian
[Cazriel]
My smol baby bats
"Thanks, Az," he said, letting the soft blue scarf slip between his fingers.
They were stood near the fireplace, swapping Solstice gifts and sipping their high lord's most expensive wine. Cassian hoped that Azriel liked his gift too. As he folded the scarf back into the tissue paper it had been wrapped in, a small card fluttered to his feet.
"What's that?" asked Mor, her ever keen eyes not missing a beat.
"Gift receipt," Azriel answered for him before he even got the chance to flip the card over and look. "I wasn't sure which colour would suit you best."
"Blue is best," he assured. "It'll be perfect for the mountains."
"You're welcome," crooned the Illyrian.
Cassian flipped the card over, surprised to find that it was not a gift receipt but in fact a short handwritten note in Ariel's crooked penmanship:
Bring the scarf upstairs before bed. I want to show you what it really does.
He frowned at the words, opening his mouth to question Azriel, but the shadowsinger had slinked across the room to help Feyre into the long-eared wooly hat he'd gifted to her.
.
.
He was sober enough to maneuver the stairs while balancing his Solstice gifts, despite the copious amounts of wine Amren had forced down his throat. The night had ended well, with people slowly dwindling towards the stairs to retire to bed, well fed and pleasantly merry. He had left Rhys and Feyre on the couch, curling closer together with every passing minute. The final straw had been when someone moaned - he still wasn't sure who - and decided it was his dignity would have been damaged if he stayed any longer.
"Don't go downstairs for a while," he announced into the semi-dark room, bumping the bedroom door closed with his hip. Fae lights lingered in each corner of the room, making the too small place feel cozy. "Actually, maybe stay away from the couch until we can get it cleaned."
He dumped the pile of gifts onto the dressing table he shared with Azriel while they were staying over for Solstice. The shadowsinger was perched on the edge of his own small, single bed, holding a thick strip of black leather in his hand. Cassian grinned - it was his Solstice gift to Azriel. He'd noticed the shadowsinger was in need of a new belt when his usual one had started to look scuffed and scratched.
"You like it?" he asked, sitting on the edge of his own too small bed and beginning to unthread the laces on his heavy boots. Kicking them off with a grunt, he shoved them under the bed and wriggled his toes. "It's got close bottomed sheaths so your daggers don't rip those annoying little holes in your pants anymore."
Azriel made a sound of approval. "I can definitely put this to good use," he said, fingering the heavy leather. He put it to one side and the heavy silver buckle clinked.
Cassian reached into his pocket and held out the note that was hidden in the tissue paper. "So, what does it really do?" he asked with a crooked smile.
Azriel's eyes slid to the pile of gifts and indicated with his chin. "Bring it over and I'll show you," he said softly.
Cassian retrieved the scarf, letting his fingers roam over the soft material. There was nothing peculiar about to scarf to suggest it had any hidden features. He stood before Azriel, displaying the scarf with raised eyebrows. "Amaze me," he declared. The shadowsinger eyed the scarf with a neutral look before reaching his marked hands out to touch the material, momentarily brushing his fingers against Cassian's.
"I couldn't decide at first," said Azriel, running a thumb along the scarf. "What to get you for Solstice that is. You have enough knives to start your own business and I didn't think Rhys would appreciate me buying you a pet. Then I saw this in the weaver's shop and thought it'd be nice on you."
Cassian snorted and brought the scarf over his head to loop it around his neck, letting it hang freely down to his waist. "Picture perfect, right?" he smirked. Azriel held the ends of the scarf in his hands, looking at them for long enough to make Cassian frown. "Az?" he asked gently.
His friend looked up from the bed, hazel eyes flickering with some sort of emotion. "I like how it looks around your neck," admitted Azriel and he let the material fall from his fingers. "I wonder how it'd looked wrapped around here though," he said quietly, bring his scarred palms around Cassian's wrists.
Cassian's throat bobbed, a foreign yet familiar feeling bubbling in his stomach as he felt the marred skin brush his wrists. He hadn't anticipated a move like this. Surprised, he blurted out, "Around where?" and Azriel let go of his wrist to tug the scarf from his neck, the material pooling into the shadowsingers lap.
Careful hands moved to his hips, pulling him forward until he stood directly between muscled thighs. Tanned hands reached up to wrap the scarf around both his wrists and tighten it. "Oh," he said blushing slightly.
"And around there," said Azriel, pointing to the wooden headboard on the tiny bed. It was enough to make Cassian's cheeks blaze when he realised what exactly was being propositioned. His mouth felt dry, jaw too stiff to open, so he swallowed thickly instead. It had been a long time since they had done anything like this and he wasn't sure why Azriel suddenly wanted to begin again.
The scarf felt light around his wrists, the soft material tickling the delicate skin beneath his calloused palms. He stomach wobbled when Azriel's hands smoothed a line from his hips to the back of his thighs. A gentle squeeze made his fists clench and he registered the twitch on his friend's lips.
"You like games, Cassian. You're competitive," he purred, peering up from the bed.
Cassian was too aware of the heavy sensation that shot to his groin, the tingling around his wrists where the scarf tickled him softly, and Azriel's face just inches from his twitching cock. His cheeks flared when the shadowsinger noticed the shift in his pants and he looked everywhere but those smoldering eyes.
The bed creaked when Azriel stood and Cassian took an instinctive step back to allow him room. His hands remained wrapped in the scarf, joined near his belt buckle and scraping against his own treacherous cock that had stirred to life. His mouth opened to say something but shut again, not sure what to say. Azriel's lips twitched again and he took a step closer, into Cassian's space, so that his groin pressed against Cassian's bound hands and nudged his erection. Cassian sighed softly at the sensation.
"I've forgotten," he said lamely, truthfully, because it had been a long time since he had lain with a man.
"Let me show you," purred Azriel, drawing Cassian's head forward with a guiding hand behind his neck.
His insides squirmed when their mouths met. Warm lips plush against his own and when Azriel's teasing tongue slid against his bottom lip, he opened with a soft moan; opened the gates for that flood of memories that warmed him from the inside. His fingers twitched from their confined position, giving him that much-needed pressure but preventing his erection from rubbing against where he really desired - Azriel. Though his eyes closed, he could feel the shadows that drifted around his ears, tickling sweat spots and tracing forgotten places.
Before he could think too much of the gentle lips that caressed his own, Azriel pulled back and the flicker of emotion in his eyes had been replaced with a burning desire. Cassian fidgeted on the spot.
"What do you say, Cass. Will you play with me?"