Disclaimer and warnings: see previous chapters.
They changed darkvision in the new FR books, but I like it as heatvision better, so that's how I wrote it. (
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Drizzt woke in the utter darkness between lightening strikes. Rain pounded on the roof of the shed they slept in, but it was well-made and there were no leaks to let the rain get to them. He could feel Brionne breathing, the slow rise and fall of the younger man's chest under his arm. There was no sense of wrongness, no sense of danger, yet he knew something had woken him.
He let his vision shift, seeing the world as patterns of heat instead of reflected light.
Brionne was not asleep. Drizzt could see his open eyes, staring blindly into the darkness. His mouth was open, to let his breath slip without sound through his lips. Drizzt watched the slow tracks of Brionne's tears; so very hot as they left his eyes, cooling to invisibility as they traced down his cheeks.
He watched his own warm fingers reaching out towards Brionne's cheek; after a moment's hesitation brushing the tears away.
Startled, Brionne jerked back from the touch, a motion that was sudden, almost violent. He had no idea that Drizzt could see in the darkness. Heat rose on his cheeks. Embarrassment at being caught crying, or at his startled reaction? Drizzt made a soft soothing noise, like he would calm an injured animal.
"Shh, Brionne, there is no shame." He whispered. Have I caused these tears? He couldn't help but wonder. Have I harmed him? Has he harmed himself by...performing...for me?
He resolved, even as he gently tangled his fingers in the young man's hair, that if his touch was rebuffed a second time he would relent and leave Brionne in peace. Acting more on instinct than thought, he leaned in and kissed the tears as they dried on his lover's cheek.
**********************************
The Hunter pulled the oil-cloth of her hood closer to her face, trying to keep out the downpour. Wet and cold; two conditions she didn't appreciate being in at the same time. She heard one of her henchmen sigh as the lights of Brambleton came into view. Soaked and miserable, the hounds followed the equally soaked and miserable horses.
She hoped the runaways were out in the weather also, though it was probable they had found a place to hide from the rain. A scattering of farms and hovels could be found here, as well as some small natural hiding places.
The hooves of her horse hit the edge of the cobblestone road, clipping now instead of clopping, and she looked forward to even the shabby warmth of the Kingsway inn.
***************************************
Brionne gasped at the feel of Drizzt's lips so gentle on his cheek, a sharp sound, almost a sob. Drizzt held himself still, determined not to force himself on Brionne, but also determined to not reject him either. For a moment, neither of them moved, and then Brionne's smooth cheek brushed against his, lips kissing lightly at his jaw.
Drizzt felt himself let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. He drew his body closer to Brionne, pressing close through their clothing. He could feel the warmth of the young man's body, the strong leanness of him. He had meant the touch to be nothing more than comforting, yet Brionne's reaction was immediate, and passionate.
Brionne's hand ran over Drizzt's hip, pulling their bodies tighter against each other. His kisses became more insistent, more hungry. He whispered a question, the words muffled against the dark lips he kissed. Gente, Drizzt tried to calm him, to smooth the desperation from his actions.
"Brionne, I don't understand," he said, determined to not be foresworn. He watched, feeling almost guilty for the advantage, as Brionne searched for his hand in the dark.
"Touch." Brionne said, running his fingertips over Drizzt's. "Touch me." And he guided that hand down along his stomach, arching his back as it rubbed over him. Drizzt felt almost dizzy as Brionne rubbed his hand against the front of his breeches, against the stiffness there. He had never touched a man in such a way, had never even thought it was something that could or should be done, before he had met Brionne.
With growing confidence, Drizzt stroked him, encouraged by the tiny sounds of pleasure that slipped from the warm lips. He felt his own body, already aroused, throbbing with need.
So steady in battle, or in the forest, his fingers fumbled with the laces of Brionne's clothing. He was shaking with desire, with the need to return the pleasure he had received earlier. He slid the rough-spun fabric of the young man's leggings off of him, letting them fall nearby. He ran his hands over the smooth skin of Brionne's shoulders, divesting him of his shirt as well.
Awed, he stared down at the naked form beside him. He was perfection in form and proportions; slender yet strong, lean and beautiful. The heat of the younger man's longing glowed on his skin, in the graceful column between his legs.
Blind in the darkness, Brionne's hand searched for the edge of his undershirt, and finding it, slipped up inside, searching for soft skin. Their lips pressed together again. Brionne's tongue flicked at the edges of his lips, eager against his teeth. When they parted again for breath, he whispered, "Kiss. The word for that is kiss." And then he demonstrated it by reengaging the embrace.
Drizzt tried to remember all the ways Brionne's hands had touched him, had pleased him. He reached down, uncertain of himself, and stroked the young man's arousal with a slow, light touch. With his lips, he kissed the flushed skin of Brionne's neck, down the hollow of his throat. He remembered the feel of Brionne's palm on his nipple, and hazarded a lick at his.
The slender form jerked under his experimental caress, and he felt his confidence rising ever higher. Brionne writhed with pleasure, his fingers clinging to the blankets beneath him as if trying to anchor himself in a sea of sensation.
Instinct, and perhaps stories he had heard of the things women will do for men guided him. He found himself kissing, licking and biting his way down Brionne's torso, reveling in the taste of his skin. In a brief moment of hesitation, he stared at the tip of the shaft in his hand, and then he was licking it too, as his hand still stroked it.
Brionne's hips arched against his mouth. Strong fingers tangled in the wild white mane of his hair; not pushing or guiding his head, just clinging. He found himself drawing the now-slick shaft against his lips, then deeper, and deeper, until it was filling his mouth, filling his world. He lost himself in his desire to please. His lover moaned deep in his throat, and then Brionne was gasping his name in warning, and tugging at his shoulder.
Filled with sudden concern that he had somehow done something wrong, Drizzt lifted his head, turning to look Brionne in the face. The young man's expression was one of restrained bliss, and as Drizzt pulled away, he surrendered to it, the heat of his climax pumping wetly over his stomach and chest. His body went limp against the fragrant hay of their bed, as all the strength left him for a moment.
Panting, he reached down, and drew Drizzt's lips to his. This kiss was slower, like a whisper of promises yet to be fulfilled, gifts to be given, secrets to be exchanged. The kiss was like magic, and Drizzt felt himself surrendering to it.
They changed darkvision in the new FR books, but I like it as heatvision better, so that's how I wrote it. (
*************************
Drizzt woke in the utter darkness between lightening strikes. Rain pounded on the roof of the shed they slept in, but it was well-made and there were no leaks to let the rain get to them. He could feel Brionne breathing, the slow rise and fall of the younger man's chest under his arm. There was no sense of wrongness, no sense of danger, yet he knew something had woken him.
He let his vision shift, seeing the world as patterns of heat instead of reflected light.
Brionne was not asleep. Drizzt could see his open eyes, staring blindly into the darkness. His mouth was open, to let his breath slip without sound through his lips. Drizzt watched the slow tracks of Brionne's tears; so very hot as they left his eyes, cooling to invisibility as they traced down his cheeks.
He watched his own warm fingers reaching out towards Brionne's cheek; after a moment's hesitation brushing the tears away.
Startled, Brionne jerked back from the touch, a motion that was sudden, almost violent. He had no idea that Drizzt could see in the darkness. Heat rose on his cheeks. Embarrassment at being caught crying, or at his startled reaction? Drizzt made a soft soothing noise, like he would calm an injured animal.
"Shh, Brionne, there is no shame." He whispered. Have I caused these tears? He couldn't help but wonder. Have I harmed him? Has he harmed himself by...performing...for me?
He resolved, even as he gently tangled his fingers in the young man's hair, that if his touch was rebuffed a second time he would relent and leave Brionne in peace. Acting more on instinct than thought, he leaned in and kissed the tears as they dried on his lover's cheek.
**********************************
The Hunter pulled the oil-cloth of her hood closer to her face, trying to keep out the downpour. Wet and cold; two conditions she didn't appreciate being in at the same time. She heard one of her henchmen sigh as the lights of Brambleton came into view. Soaked and miserable, the hounds followed the equally soaked and miserable horses.
She hoped the runaways were out in the weather also, though it was probable they had found a place to hide from the rain. A scattering of farms and hovels could be found here, as well as some small natural hiding places.
The hooves of her horse hit the edge of the cobblestone road, clipping now instead of clopping, and she looked forward to even the shabby warmth of the Kingsway inn.
***************************************
Brionne gasped at the feel of Drizzt's lips so gentle on his cheek, a sharp sound, almost a sob. Drizzt held himself still, determined not to force himself on Brionne, but also determined to not reject him either. For a moment, neither of them moved, and then Brionne's smooth cheek brushed against his, lips kissing lightly at his jaw.
Drizzt felt himself let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. He drew his body closer to Brionne, pressing close through their clothing. He could feel the warmth of the young man's body, the strong leanness of him. He had meant the touch to be nothing more than comforting, yet Brionne's reaction was immediate, and passionate.
Brionne's hand ran over Drizzt's hip, pulling their bodies tighter against each other. His kisses became more insistent, more hungry. He whispered a question, the words muffled against the dark lips he kissed. Gente, Drizzt tried to calm him, to smooth the desperation from his actions.
"Brionne, I don't understand," he said, determined to not be foresworn. He watched, feeling almost guilty for the advantage, as Brionne searched for his hand in the dark.
"Touch." Brionne said, running his fingertips over Drizzt's. "Touch me." And he guided that hand down along his stomach, arching his back as it rubbed over him. Drizzt felt almost dizzy as Brionne rubbed his hand against the front of his breeches, against the stiffness there. He had never touched a man in such a way, had never even thought it was something that could or should be done, before he had met Brionne.
With growing confidence, Drizzt stroked him, encouraged by the tiny sounds of pleasure that slipped from the warm lips. He felt his own body, already aroused, throbbing with need.
So steady in battle, or in the forest, his fingers fumbled with the laces of Brionne's clothing. He was shaking with desire, with the need to return the pleasure he had received earlier. He slid the rough-spun fabric of the young man's leggings off of him, letting them fall nearby. He ran his hands over the smooth skin of Brionne's shoulders, divesting him of his shirt as well.
Awed, he stared down at the naked form beside him. He was perfection in form and proportions; slender yet strong, lean and beautiful. The heat of the younger man's longing glowed on his skin, in the graceful column between his legs.
Blind in the darkness, Brionne's hand searched for the edge of his undershirt, and finding it, slipped up inside, searching for soft skin. Their lips pressed together again. Brionne's tongue flicked at the edges of his lips, eager against his teeth. When they parted again for breath, he whispered, "Kiss. The word for that is kiss." And then he demonstrated it by reengaging the embrace.
Drizzt tried to remember all the ways Brionne's hands had touched him, had pleased him. He reached down, uncertain of himself, and stroked the young man's arousal with a slow, light touch. With his lips, he kissed the flushed skin of Brionne's neck, down the hollow of his throat. He remembered the feel of Brionne's palm on his nipple, and hazarded a lick at his.
The slender form jerked under his experimental caress, and he felt his confidence rising ever higher. Brionne writhed with pleasure, his fingers clinging to the blankets beneath him as if trying to anchor himself in a sea of sensation.
Instinct, and perhaps stories he had heard of the things women will do for men guided him. He found himself kissing, licking and biting his way down Brionne's torso, reveling in the taste of his skin. In a brief moment of hesitation, he stared at the tip of the shaft in his hand, and then he was licking it too, as his hand still stroked it.
Brionne's hips arched against his mouth. Strong fingers tangled in the wild white mane of his hair; not pushing or guiding his head, just clinging. He found himself drawing the now-slick shaft against his lips, then deeper, and deeper, until it was filling his mouth, filling his world. He lost himself in his desire to please. His lover moaned deep in his throat, and then Brionne was gasping his name in warning, and tugging at his shoulder.
Filled with sudden concern that he had somehow done something wrong, Drizzt lifted his head, turning to look Brionne in the face. The young man's expression was one of restrained bliss, and as Drizzt pulled away, he surrendered to it, the heat of his climax pumping wetly over his stomach and chest. His body went limp against the fragrant hay of their bed, as all the strength left him for a moment.
Panting, he reached down, and drew Drizzt's lips to his. This kiss was slower, like a whisper of promises yet to be fulfilled, gifts to be given, secrets to be exchanged. The kiss was like magic, and Drizzt felt himself surrendering to it.