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Timeless: a Wranduin Story	By : flagfish Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 4143 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft nor any of the characters,nor do I make any money or profit from writing this story.

Chapter List
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"You don't have to do it," Wrathion said, he hadn't expected that after their candid exchange, Anduin would go back to what he was doing before— but Anduin actually pressed him down, he said nothing more of it and got his hand on his member directly. He met his gaze and didn't turn away while his hand moved on slick surface, he watched Wrathion subtly gasp with inspiration each time; after that, he knelt forth again, he took him in his mouth without a word.
Wrathion swore silently in draconic, his clawed fingers came in Anduin's hair, and Anduin didn't even mind that he tugged a little; he didn't mind that, after a while, they'd both become very lewd and profane, his hand moved wetly on him, he felt the fluid trail down the side of his palm to his wrist—
He got his other hand on Wrathion's hip, where he could feel the tension in his muscles, the slide of his bones, he continued long past the point where his lips had gone red and inflamed with exertion, and his knees had dug painfully into the earth— then, after some time, at last Wrathion's abdomen had gone tight and he muttered breathlessly that he was gonna—
At that, Anduin's fingers pressed harder on his hip, he'd prepared himself mentally, and while he dreaded the taste, he told himself he wouldn't act repulsed by it— he wouldn't give him a hard time, he'd make him remember how good at this he was—
But when climax actually came, it really did taste that bad; Anduin forced himself to swallow quickly without making a fuss, but he thought he still could taste it after the fact— and, also, his mouth had gone very dry. He emerged from it breathless and raw, and gazed at Wrathion directly, determined not to show that he hadn't liked it. Wrathion, however, appeared entirely exhausted, he remained somehow helpless, his chest rose and fell with after-effect; when Anduin leaned forth to kiss him, he didn't resist, his fingers moved delicately through his hair and he let him kiss his lips, and his cheek, and his neck—
"Did you like it?" Anduin whispered, and Wrathion nodded speechlessly, like he'd been unexpectedly humbled somehow; "Yeah," he finally said, he gathered Anduin delicately into his arms, the points of his claws moved gently through his hair. "Yes, I liked it very much."
They remained for some moments without speaking more, and, very tentatively, Anduin proceeded to lay his head on Wrathion's shoulder; the gesture came a bit unexpected, but it was tender in a way Wrathion found he had liked.
He looked out unto the valley below from over the sway of Anduin's hair, and he said, "You'll have to ride on my back again, you know— to get back down."
"Yeah," Anduin replied, "I know."
"You're not frightened?"
Anduin was silent for some moments; "Maybe a little," he said.
A few more seconds passed before Wrathion spoke again; "I'm sorry about before— about the way I carried you— I— just wanted to impress you."
Anduin stilled; he chuckled and then moved back to regard him directly. "What?" he asked.
"Yeah," Wrathion laughed, "pretty dumb, right?"
"You were trying to impress me? By almost dropping me?"
"I didn't almost drop you," Wrathion huffed; there was a defensive note to his voice. "I wanted— for you to think— that I was majestic, and cool..."
Now Anduin actually laughed outright; "I already thought that," he said, and then flushed on realizing what he'd inadvertently admitted again; the first time he'd said Wrathion was a majestic and stunning dragon, he'd been terribly embarrassed afterward— but it was something Wrathion never grew tired of hearing.
He remained where he was, stupidly smiling, he chuckled a little and regarded Anduin timidly; "You really think that?" he asked.
Anduin had gone shy after that, he looked out at the twinkling lights in the forest below; "Yeah," he said, "pretty much from that first time I saw you, back at that pool."
They both remained quiet for some moments; then, finally Wrathion laughed.
"Really?" he asked, "I thought I looked totally stupid... and you were like... all circling around me, and I had to try and look cool..."
"You did look cool, cooler than those other dragons..."
"Well, obviously, I... that is... are you just saying that?"
"No... you were different... the way your wings— how your scales— like— I don' t know, you sort of... glimmered— under the water— with your wings all spread out—"
Anduin was stupidly smiling while he spoke, he held his hands out to demonstrate, and Wrathion realized he'd got very shy; "You like my wings?" he asked timidly, and Anduin chuckled, he gathered enough courage to regard him directly. "Yeah," he grinned, and then laughed; "Yeah, I like your wings."
Now Wrathion laughed, too; "They are kinda cool, aren't they."
"Yeah, they're pretty cool."
When Wrathion turned toward him again, he was smiling widely; he gently tilted Anduin's chin toward him and kissed him lightheartedly, he'd been terribly flattered by the things he'd said.
"I promise I'll try to be gentle," he said, "Now when we head back down to the party, I'll take it really slow."
In the moments that followed, Anduin grew serious while he thought this over; "Let's try it slowly this time," he said, "and— try to keep your back level, last time I nearly slid off..."
"Right, I remember— how about if I only fly a small distance up, and if you don't like it, we'll just land straight away."
"Yeah, okay," Anduin said, "Let's try that."
--
Azshara had cast a restorative spell on Kael'thas and asked to have him delivered to one of the guest rooms; she intended to ask Illidan to go and find out how it was that this boy had magic similar to his. In truth, though, it was really an excuse to have him stick around, but she felt stupidly nervous about asking.
"I can't talk to him," she said to Vashj,"you talk to him."
"Az, this is ridiculous, you've got to snap out of it."
"Can't you do it, just this once?"
"Illidan is your subject who needs to be ordered," Vashj said, "it's something boys need; it's not good for them when they don't have some kind of structure."
If Kael'thas had heard that bit of conversation, he'd probably say, She's so right; but Kael knew, in his own timeline Illidan had been disciplined into so much submission during his imprisonment there was little left to structure in the end.
But a little bit is nice, he would've thought, he'd been surprised long ago when he'd found quite unexpectedly that, for all his brute force and immeasurable power, Illidan had been deceptively gentle in intimate regard; it was something Kael'thas endured because he'd cared for Illidan, but he'd wished he had hammered him ruthlessly into the mattress at least once.
Jaina smacked him irritably over the head.
"You seem all better," she huffed, Kael was propped by one elbow on the cushions where he'd been lain, he was staring with vast interest at the wash basin at the far end of the room; Illidan was stood there and was rinsing minor injuries he'd got from his struggle with Malygos, there was innate elegance and beauty to him Kael remembered even now.
During their days at the Black Temple, Illidan never spoke to Kael'thas outright about intimate or vulnerable things, but Kael had come to know him through the unmentioned and undisclosed; he was aware that, much as Illidan had been fascinated by the prospect of limitless power, he'd also imagined himself a grotesque and cumbersome presence— but Kael'thas had witnessed there also had been subtle grace in him, which, for better or for worse, was distinctly Kaldorei.
"Oh, come on," he smiled at Jaina, "Tell me that isn't hot."
Now Jaina was staring, too.
Illidan was stood far off with his back facing them, before an elaborate, carved basin; he had a washcloth in hand and was carefully running it over the opposite arm, Kael and Jaina watched the slick streams of water glisten over the perfectly sculpted surface.
They both silently devoured him with their eyes, and Kael wondered what it would be like to kiss him like this— back before the daunting stature and wings and horns— he was almost certain Tyrande must have liked him, at least a little, he wondered if she was ultimately forced to make a choice between him and Malfurion.
Two hot brothers like them both liking you, I wish I had her problem, Kael'thas thought; it made him remember his earlier conversation with Jaina, where he'd joked that she shouldn't have to choose between him and Kalec, and instead just take them both. It occurred to him now that, in truth, it would be a compromise he would gladly accept, if only to have Jaina, for once.
But was that so far-fetched...?
He wondered about Ysera, who had married two brothers, and they seemed like such a big and happy family— and Alextrasza, who had four guys in her harem, all of whom seemed to get along; he thought of the heartache of which Illidan never spoke outright, but which had destroyed him utterly and lay beneath everything he'd ever said and done—
Would he not have been happier if Tyrande had taken both brothers, the way Ysera had...?
He thought of how miserable Tyrande must have been with Malfurion for a lover, who, as archdruid, had spent many years at a time completely asleep— it was almost absurd to think she shouldn't have had Illidan, as well, at least for those times, to attend her neglected needs.
He'd been taken a little off guard when Illidan turned from the basin, like Kael had forgot he was aware of their presence in the room; he tried to sit upright on the cushions, but Jaina prompted him back down. "You'll mess up the enchantment I cast," she warned, "By the Light, Kael'thas, this is very basic sorcery, I shouldn't have to tell you."
"Right, sorry," he murmured, he tried to remain on his back while watching Illidan proceed toward them, and couldn't help smiling at that.
Jaina might have said more, but she had to admit, from up close Illidan really did look quite good; his eyes were remarkable, and he was tall even for a night elf— and his naked chest, still a bit wet from before—
—she could only imagine what Kael must have been thinking.
He spoke to them in Darnassian, and said to Kael'thas, "Her Highness says your magic is like mine." His hand reached carefully for the injury at his neck, and Kael's gaze followed the motion with pent anticipation, until his eyes finally fluttered shut when the digits came on his skin.
"That's a restoration spell," Jaina explained, "I placed it there, so please be careful—"
Illidan nodded; "It looks like there's also another spell there, the one cast by the queen," he said, and Jaina confirmed she had also been witness to this. She observed that Kael'thas had very dutifully remained still while being examined, his gaze never left Illidan's eyes; she suddenly wondered if it could be that his great desire to come here had little to do with the Well.
Illidan's long fingers came with meticulous grace on the fastens of Kael's robes, he asked, "May I?" —and Jaina thought Kael might have reached straight away to tear off his own garbs, but instead he had quietly swallowed and merely replied, "Please, go ahead."
She imagined he must really enjoy this, but she hadn't expected that she would enjoy watching, too; she got one hand over her mouth and crossed her legs tighter, and stared without shame while Illidan carefully unraveled the elaborate cloth binds. The fabric slid away smoothly to reveal Kael's naked chest, and Kael'thas met Jaina's gaze momentarily; he winked and mouthed to her in Common, How about it, Jaina? All this could still be yours...!
She shook her head and actually chuckled, she replied in Common, "You are a bloody tease, you know that?"
Illidan paused momentarily on hearing this foreign tongue, he'd heard them converse in this language before; his gaze turned from her to Kael and back. "You really aren't dragons," he said, he now pulled the flanks of Kael's robe completely to his sides.
Jaina's first impulse on seeing him like this was to look respectfully away, but she could tell, he wanted her attention; he looked unexpectedly good without clothes, he had a slender and elegant build that was aristocratic and distinctly male. Illidan traced the course of the injury from his neck to his right shoulder, his brow furrowed because indeed it was a sort of magic that felt familiar somehow— however, while he was a powerful sorcerer, his own arcane capabilities were nothing like those of the queen, and he could not tell just by virtue of vicinity what sort of magic Kael had.
Jaina noticed that even despite the obvious reverence Kael felt for Illidan, he nevertheless kept his verdant sphere concealed from clear vision, while earlier he'd made no effort to hide it from her.
"You are here with Ysera," Illidan said, "but the blue aspect spoke of all manner of dangerous things— he said you ought not be here."
"Master," Kael started, but Jaina cut him off; "I had been in agreement that he— that we ought not come here," she said, "but—" She met Kael's gaze momentarily and paused; "—but Malygos ought not have attacked him; the aspects had reached a consensus, and it should have been handled more civilly."
Illidan's hand paused where he'd been inspecting Kael's chest; he regarded him for some moments and then asked, "What did you just call me?"
For the first time, Jaina had seen Kael appear shy; he gasped at his inadvertent comment and regarded Illidan with childlike adoration. "Sorry," he grinned, "you— remind me of someone I knew."
There was something about this, Jaina felt her heart wrench in the tenderest way; it hadn't really hit her until then, how much Kael'thas must have missed Illidan.
She wondered, what if Malygos was mistaken...? What if they both were mistaken, and the expectation that Kael'thas would come here with obvious intent to use the Well was entirely wrong? She had thought of how insistent he'd been about this visit, how Anduin had said he felt he was innocent somehow— could it be that it was merely about—
Illidan paused momentarily; he finally smiled back at Kael. "I've never been called such a thing," he said, and Jaina could tell by his voice that he must have longed for some sort of recognition; Kael'thas brightened at that, it was very rare to see Illidan smile.
"Maybe it's appropriate," he said, "I am in your debt, after all; you did save my life."
Illidan's expression remained unreadable; he regarded him for some time with one hand still lain on his chest. Then, he finally asked, "And what might I call you, little one?"
Kael'thas hesitated; very slowly, his fingers came over Illidan's hand, there lingered between them the sweetest air of brotherhood—
"Why, Master," he said softly, "you might call me Little Prince."
(On to Chapter 20)
- 18
- 19
- 20
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Timeless: a Wranduin Story