Disclaimer: I do not own Forgotten Realms or any characters, lands, or items from the TSR world. They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Warnings: Slash, violence, violent rape, damaged people behaving in dysfunctional ways.
Catti-brie slept, bow in hand and her pack for a pillow. Drizzt, on watch, lurked above them on a narrow ledge. Entreri leaned back against a stalagmite, and closed his eyes, trying to still his mind and quiet the aches of his body enough to allow him a moment's rest. His only comfort was the fact that the drow seemed to be leading them away from Menzoberanzan. It had been many hours since they fought the lizard-riders, and no other hunters had caught up with them since.
He massaged a tender wrist as he tried to relax. The ranger was mad, he could see that, but would be the last to blame him. Hadn't he had his own dark and desperate days? Survival, he reminded himself; survival is all that matters. And survive he had, finding his sense of control in the blood and deaths of others, until it had become the easiest course for him to adopt death and killing as a profession.
He felt annoyed, and out of sorts. The air around them was silent except for the amplified and echoing plip plip plip of water dripping somewhere. It was too quiet to sleep, and his head ached from viewing the world in darkvision. He would have killed, then, for the light of a single candle, to hear the sounds of the sleeping city of Calimport spreading around him, for a glimpse of the stars above the smoke of a hundred hearth fires.
He closed his eyes again, and when he opened them, Drizzt stood before him, as silent as the rest of the underdark. The drow's eyes were fierce with undisguised emotion, dark with pain and longing.
"Please..." he growled through gritted teeth, and in the language of the wounded, which they both spoke, it meant I hurt and cannot find peace. His hands were balled into fists at his side; his feet spread shoulders width apart, as if he were facing an opponent.
"Please..." Take my pain, give me rest, let me use you for a moment's oblivion...
"Damn you," Entreri replied, how dare you ask this, how dare you tempt me to vulnerability, how can you force me to choose this? He was quiet so as not to wake the sleeping woman. Neither of them wanted a witness to this. He wanted to rise, to fight, to make the Drow pay in blood for what he would take, yet he knew he could not. A combat here between them could only end two ways; with himself beaten and used regardless of his decision or he would kill the ranger and spend his last days wandering in the blackness until he fell to hunger or the hunters.
Something wavered behind the lavender eyes, and as Entreri hesitated, Drizzt stepped back, anguish on his face.
"Forgive me," his voice was a harsh rasp, To break you would break me; I should shatter alone...
Entreri was on his feet before he could stop himself, before he could question his intentions. His hand reached out, as if by its own will, and rested on the drow's shoulder. Drizzt trembled beneath his touch, though it seemed more from the effort of restraining himself rather than from fear. The ranger's eyes bored into his, and he had no doubts what those eyes asked of him.
"Damn you, do it." He hissed, and the drow turned him away, pushed him down. The rocky ground below him was real, and sharp; the hands roughly tearing his breeches down seemed distant by contrast, unreal, as if they were on another person, and not him. His breath came in harsh pants, matched by the drow's gasps behind him. He realized that he was hard. Drizzt pulled his hips up and pushed his head down. Slender fingers once more tangled in his hair.
He waited for the panic to rise in his chest, but somehow the drow's grip, secure, possessive, made him feel safe instead. Or numb. Regardless, he did not fight it, did not protest as he was pressed into. His body tensed of its own accord, and Drizzt pulled back again, spitting into his hand and spreading it over himself. He pressed in again and it was easier, at least for one of them.
Entreri's lips parted, his stomach clenched. And still it was as if another knelt in his place, taking the brunt of the drow's pain, his anger.
"Usstan phlith dos." The words were whispered into the darkness. "Usstan phlith dos."
In three quick thrusts it was over, as Drizzt spilled into him with the quietest of moans. A heavy hand pushed against the small of Enterri's back as Drizzt pulled out a heartbeat later. His hair was released. Neither made a sound. Stumbling footsteps moved away a few paces, and Entreri reached a hand down beneath himself, giving relief to the needs of his body.
Drizzt's voice was soft, and calm when he spoke. "When you're able, we need to move again. The scent will bring company." His tone was not unkind.
In that moment of release, he found himself again; found his center, his sanity. The pain left him, so suddenly that it made him dizzy. In that moment, he realized what he was doing, the pain he was causing. Nobody deserved what he had gone through, nobody deserved what he had just done, not even a cold-blooded assassin who killed for money.
Shamed, he pulled away; wincing as Entreri flinched, knowing he had caused more pain. Forgive me, he wanted to ask. He wanted to touch his back in reassurance, wanted to comfort this man who had taken his pain away.
He's not your lover; he reminded himself, stepping back and turning away. He's not even your friend.
"When you're able, we need to move again. The scent will bring company." He couldn't bring himself to look back, to see what he had done. "I'll scout the way."