dress up

“No.”

“You’ve hardly even looked—”

Artemis picked Jarlaxle up and lifted him bodily from where he stood blocking the door. Always one to make the best of a bad situation, Jarlaxle wrapped his legs tightly around Entreri’s waist and his arms—only slightly less tightly—around his neck.

“Let go.”

“To borrow a phrase from you—no.”

He smiled brightly into Artemis’ glare. The Eyecatcher creaked around them, rolling idly in the slow lull of Deepwater Harbour’s mild tide. Muffled shouts filtered down from abovedecks; his crew, keeping themselves busy. He nudged at Artemis’ cheek with his nose, brushed his lips against his ear.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he purred, in his most seductive tone—it rarely worked on Artemis, but it was worth a try. He felt Artemis shiver, and had just started working on a persuasive line of kisses along his jaw, when he was all at once flung to the bed. Success, perhaps?

“Goodbye.” Artemis turned for the door. Jarlaxle flung a pillow at him—he snatched it out of the air and threw it right back.

“You are such a spoilsport,” Jarlaxle said, hugging the pillow to his chest.

“And you are a busybody. You have played dress-up with me more than enough since we’ve been in this city.”

“One party! That’s it, that’s all I’ve done, I’ve hardly been breathing down your neck—though gods know you could use someone to do so.”

“One was more than enough.” Artemis threw a glance at the chair where the pile of clothes Jarlaxle has so far failed to get him into still sat. “You are not making me up like one of your sailors. I do have some dignity left.”

“Really? I could have sworn you lost the last of it when that eighteen-year-old wizard backhanded you.”

About half a second after the remark had left his mouth, he was flat on his back with his hands pinned above his head. He squirmed; Artemis tightened his grip. “Is this a threat or a promise? I do so enjoy it when you play rough, abbil.”

Artemis glared at him. “Sometimes I think you want me to stab you—don’t make your obvious joke.” Jarlaxle shut his mouth. Then he opened it again, speaking now with a softer tone, as pleading as Entreri was likely to listen to.

“Just for five minutes? Please?”

Artemis held his gaze for a long moment. Jarlaxle couldn’t quite suppress a shiver—there was always something fatalistically erotic in being the sole subject of Artemis Entreri’s attention. Finally, Artemis sighed, and let him go.

“Five minutes.”

Jarlaxle arranged himself cross-legged and waited very patiently and politely, making absolutely zero suggestive comments as Artemis undressed. Really, he was being exceptionally restrained. Entreri being as efficient as he was, it did not take long before he’d swapped his usual dull, practical attire for that which Jarlaxle had chosen.

Sailor, Artemis had called it—theatrical pirate was more like it; a little Zord, a little Jarlaxle, a lot of tight leather breeches and well-fitting white shirt. Said shirt was open to the navel, Jarlaxle having carefully removed most of the buttons to achieve just such an effect. Artemis stood there, one hand on his hip pushing the long black coat back just so, and Jarlaxle suppressed a little sigh of satisfaction. In his other hand he held a tricorn hat, which he pointed threateningly at Jarlaxle.

“There are limits,” he said. He held out his arms, taking himself in more fully. “I look ridiculous.”

“On the contrary,” Jarlaxle slipped from the bed and crossed to him, not bothering to hide so much as an inch of the hunger in his eyes, “you look delicious.”

He slid his hands over the warm, exposed skin of Artemis’ chest, all solid muscle. He shifted close, pressed a kiss to Artemis’ jaw, then his mouth, and then, whilst Entreri was distracted, plucked the tricorn from his hand and deftly set it atop his head. Artemis bit his lip and shoved him back with a curse.

“Oh, it seems I’ve drawn the ire of the notorious captain Entreri,” Jarlaxle said. He put the back of his hand to his forehead. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Get on your knees and beg for mercy,” Artemis growled.

Jarlaxle dropped to the floor.

“I thought you’d never ask.”