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“Do you want to try something tonight?” Jarlaxle asked as he pulled his boots off.
“Try something what,” Artemis asked. He was sorting his gear and pulling out his traps. He knew the cabin was enchanted and hidden from the outside world but he still prepared the defenses. He also knew the tone in Jarlaxle’s voice; Jarlaxle had an idea. “Let’s hear it.”
The dark elf pulled out a small parcel from the multiple pockets in his cloak and set it on the bed. He carefully unwrapped it and showed a handful of straps. “I thought we might get a little adventurous.” He smoothed out the straps and showed that they were a blindfold and two cuffs. A fine chain hung from a cuff and twinkled in the cabin's firelight.
“No,” Artemis said bluntly.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try?” Jarlaxle asked. “Bondage can be very freeing. It can teach you to trust-”
Artemis picked up one of the cuffs as if to examine it then shot his hand out. “Then you do it.” He snatched a slender wrist and slapped the cuff on. It was good quality leather and lined with a soft fur, and it buckled easily.
Jarlaxle was far stronger than he looked, but he didn’t pull his arm away. He grinned up at the assassin. “You always did learn by watching,” he said in a sultry voice. “And we all know I like to be watched.”
“Take off your clothes,” Artemis snarled and returned to his side of the cabin. He watched as Jarlaxle slowly stripped. “You don’t have to be sexy all of the time.”
“Oh, you think I’m sexy?” Jarlaxle started taking his time. He languidly stretched and pulled off his vest, then flicked it to the side.
“You’re taking too long,” Artemis muttered. He picked up the second cuff and slipped it onto Jarlaxle’s other wrist, then chained him to the bed frame. He picked up the blindfold, reached for Jarlaxle’s eye-patch, and Jarlaxle visibly balked. “What, you don’t trust me?”
“You are not the problem, khal'abbil” Jarlaxl said quietly.
“What are the chances anyone will be looking for you right now? And I know you enchanted this place. A little trust, remember?” He pulled the eye-patch up and Jarlaxle tilted his head to guide Artemis in its removal. Artemis set the eye-patch on the table then blindfolded Jarlaxle. The blindfold was also lined with soft fur and he wondered how comfortable it was. He could guess that it blocked light, and he figured it would block thermal vision, too.
Jarlaxle was blind and helpless.
Artemis swallowed thickly as he thought about Jarlaxle’s situation. His hand hovered over Jarlaxle’s neck, knowing the dark elf couldn’t stop him. He could bruise him, bite him, scratch him, or slice him. Jarlaxle had agreed without hesitation to this. The only hesitation was not to Artemis, but to the the people who could read his mind and control him. He knew Artemis wouldn’t take advantage of him like that.
Artemis straddled Jarlaxle’s hips and he watched as gooseflesh ripple across the Drow’s body. Contrary to popular belief, Drow did have some body hair, but it was soft and dark, like their skin. He put a hand on Jarlaxle’s chest and felt his muscles tense under his fingertips.
“Arte-” Jarlaxle started to say.
“Shut up.”
Jarlaxle’s mouth snapped shut.
Artemis was aware he sounded blunt and cruel, but he knew Jarlaxle trusted him. “You talk too much,” he added in a softer tone. He sat on Jarlaxle’s hips for a few more moments, thinking. What would he do?
He surprised himself by kissing Jarlaxle tenderly. Artemis planted one hand on the mattress to support himself and he caressed Jarlaxle’s cheek and ear with the other. He felt Jarlaxle writhe under him and heard his soft hum of pleasure, and he wondered if his pupils were blown out under that blindfold. Artemis could do anything he wanted right now.
He sat up and went to his side of the room again. He started sorting his gear. He packed away his throwing knives. He pulled out his dagger to sharpen it.
Jarlaxle remained still on his bed, waiting.
What was he thinking? Was he scared? Nervous? Plotting? Singing one of those creepy stories that Drow used as lullabies? Artemis put his dagger and whetstone down and watched Jarlaxle breathe.
The mercenary’s chest rose and fell rhythmically, he tilted his hips and shifted his legs, he flexed his hands. He was letting Artemis do this. He was agreeing to this. He wanted this. He was striped to the waist, just waiting for Artemis.
Artemis walked back over and trailed his fingers along Jarlaxle’s jaw, down his neck, and across his collarbone. He heard Jarlaxle’s breathing change, and he swallowed. His hand firmly gripped Jarlaxle’s neck and he felt the Drow’s pulse spike. He stroked his thumb against his jugular, feeling it jump, and pressed softly.
Artemis pulled his hand away.
He returned to his side of the room.
Was Jarlaxle regretting this? Was he scared? Could he get scared? He was a Drow, and Drow did not trust easily. Did he trust Artemis?
Another thought came to Artemis’ mind. Could he trust himself?
The assassin got up and reached for the cuffs, intent on releasing his friend and partner, but he paused with his hands over Jarlaxle’s wrists. He could do whatever he wanted.
And that scared him.
He wanted to uncuff Jarlaxle and throw the cuffs and blindfold into the fire and never think of this again. He wanted to walk away from tonight and never think of it again. He wanted to turn back time and laugh it off and never think of it again.
Instead he drew his fingertips down Jarlaxle’s body and hooked his thumb into Jarlaxle's waistband. “Eager, aren’t you?” he hissed softly into Jarlaxle's ear as he tilted his hips some. “Keep quiet,” he said when Jarlaxle opened his mouth. Artemis watched him lick his lips. “I said you talk too much.”
He thumbed open one of the buttons on Jarlaxle’s waistband and loosened the laces while he stroked Jarlaxel’s cheek with his other hand. He pressed his thumb into Jarlaxe’s warm mouth and slid his hands into his pants at the same time. His hip felt warm under Artemis’ hand. After a moment he pulled his right hand away, looped it under Jarlaxle’s neck, and shoved his fingers back into his mouth.
Jarlaxle adjusted his hips and legs, arched his back slightly, and obediently started to suck on Artemis’ fingers.
Artemis followed an impulse and licked Jarlaxle’s nipple, then wrapped his lips around it. The nipple was already hard and blushing a deep eggplant color. Artemis licked softly, pulled with his lips, and let his teeth scrape across it, and he palmed Jarlaxle’s stiff cock, still trapped in his pants.
Jarlaxle inhaled sharply when Artemis pressed with his left hand, and he brought his legs up, lifting his hips into Artemis’ hand. “Stay down," he growled softly and pressed both his fingers deeper into Jarlaxle’s mouth and firmer on his cock, and Jarlaxle forced his hips down. Jarlaxle continued to suck as Artemis' left hand pressed into Jarlaxle’s hose.
Jarlaxle moaned around Artemis’ fingers and choked on his own spit briefly, and he coughed a little. He started to breathe faster when Artemis dragged his fingers down his cock.
Artemis didn’t take Jarlaxle’s pants off or even lower them. He pressed his hand between his hose and his skin and rubbed the top of Jarlaxle’s cock in the confined space. He could feel the vein on the side and from time to time he dragged his thumbnail over it. He could feel Jarlaxle’s cock twitch and moisten with pre-cum, and he continued to rub and stroke him.
Artemis pulled back from his nipple to blow over it, and he felt Jarlaxle’s body jerk under him. He thought of leaving him like that and letting him suffer while he watched, but he decided to get it over with. He gripped Jarlaxle as best he could and roughly stroked him. “You can come if you want to,” he hissed into Jarlaxle’s ear and licked his ear from lobe to top.
Elf ears could be extremely sensitive, and more so when aroused. Artemis had once flipped through a book called “Sex with Elves” and there was an entire chapter dedicated to the sensitive appendages. He licked the tip, blew on it slightly, and took pride in making his partner shudder and cry out. He then sucked just the tip and felt it flick in his mouth. His left hand pressed harder, and Jarlaxle moaned around Artemis' fingers.
After a few more strokes Jarlaxle’s hips bucked as he came He lay there, sweating and panting, and Artemis pulled away from him.
He wiped his cum-stained hand on Jarlaxle’s abdomen and grabbed a cleaning cloth and washed his hands, then fetched another clean cloth and started to wipe Jarlaxle down. It took a few moments to undo the cuffs, and once they were done Jarlaxle rotated his shoulders and pulled his arms down. When he reached for the blindfold Artemis stopped him.
He scooped up the eye-patch then gently pulled the blindfold off. It took only a moment to replace the eye-patch. He felt it was only fair he put it back since he was the one who took it off.
Jarlaxle leaned into him and gripped his shoulders, shaking, and Artemis wrapped his arms around Jarlaxle. The Drow didn’t think it was quite fair that he didn’t get to wrap his arms around Artemis, but he took what he could get. After a few minutes his heart slowed and he took a deep breath. “So, how did you li-”
“You talk too much,” Artemis snapped. He scooped Jarlaxle into a bridal carry and took him to his own bed and sat him on it. He stripped his own clothes off, save his boxers, undid Jarlaxle’s other button and pulled his pants off, and shoved him into the bed. He then covered them both up with the blanket and wrapped his arms around Jarlaxle. “At least your hair won’t get in my mouth. Good night, Jarlaxle,” he said when Jarlaxle went to speak again.
With a gesture the lights dimmed and Jarlaxle pressed himself against Artemis’ chest. He said nothing as he fell into a deep sleep, and Artemis held in through the night.