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Sound: an Illidan/Kael'thas Story	By : flagfish Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 3237 -:- 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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There were unspoken things between Kael'thas and Illidan. It wasn't something on which to dwell, because the days had become filled with work in preparation for the Legion's likely arrival. Even after the sealing of portals, Kil'Jaeden was certain to break through, and defenses were constructed in that regard. The Illidari were trained strategically in battle, and Illidan invested himself even with injuries fresh from Icecrown, impervious to the pain, unaffected by the fight and visibly seasoned with war.

He and Kael'thas would eye one another on return from the training field, both tired with military administration, both sorcerers but Illidan also adept as a warrior at armed combat. He refused to be bandaged. He refused to be cared for, he refused to speak on a personal level with anyone. He and Kael'thas would eye one another across the black Shadowmoon earth, overworked and tired, hair tangled in the dense nether winds.

They had been partway on their return to the Temple, soil crunching dry beneath their feet, skin damp with the after-effect of physical exertion, famished from hours of work. There was in the air tension of uncertainty, unawareness of how well they might fare against Kil'Jaeden or when exactly he'll strike. On their journey back, Kael'thas thought his voice was hoarse with commanding the armies that day, that he'd grown weary even of practicing magic, his expression was sober and visibly drained.

"Come here," Illidan's tone issued low and hinting subtly of irritation, his hand came on Kael'thas' wrist and he pulled him forcibly— but it wasn't intended as a gesture of unkindness. Kael'thas stumbled, he didn't resist, there was hunger in Illidan's voice which he understood. Illidan got both his wrists in his hands, he pressed Kael'thas back against the Temple wall and held him in place while seizing his mouth.

This was something long overdue.

They didn't realize how much they wanted it until it came, Kael stiffened entirely, breath suspended, eyes tightly shut. His wrists were devoid of strength in Illidan's hands. When Illidan withdrew, Kael'thas reached after him, like he wasn't finished. Still restrained by the wrists, he leaned forth far as he could and kissed him again, tugging his lip with his teeth. Illidan's body had become familiar to him through the times he'd tended to his injuries and wounds, the extent of his physical strength, his mannerisms and gestures.

"Turn around," Illidan said when Kael'thas withdrew, he released his wrists and stepped back while he did so, both impatient, like they'd consented to this without actual exchange of words.

He thought of Kael's aristocratic hands at the harp, on a quill when planning military strategy, or turning the pages of books; there was no attempt at elegance now as Kael reached for the elaborate hems of his own robes, aware without speaking directly of their mutual intent. Kael'thas gazed over his shoulder impatiently, they both were going at his clothes now, Illidan's clawed hands hot on his skin;

The scrape of their feet on the rubble, rustle of cloth, low inspiration of breath; Kael'thas cursed when he felt the hot insistence of flesh on his thighs from behind, his robes hitched gracelessly somewhere round his hips at the back. His hand trembled as he reached backward to take the member blindly in his hand, slick and wet, he felt the fluid hot against his inner thigh; there was an urge in him to turn around and drop to his knees, to take the member impatiently in his mouth, but he knew self-restraint; "Go on already," he muttered, absently sliding Illidan's member against his thighs from behind, unable to proceed further with the small distance between them.

"Silence," Illidan chastised, it wasn't in his nature to be rough in intimate regard; he was just so hungry. He'd been rough with Malfurion, but that was something different, he'd treat his brother with the same sort of loathing that he'd treat himself. But, somewhere inside, Illidan was a gentle creature, conflicted and tormented, he denied things like vulnerability and affection. He wasn't certain what it was between him and Kael'thas, there was certain relief that the prince had already seen him at his most wretched hour.

The long fabric of Kael's robes hung tangled where he held them suspended at his waist, bothersome and irritating, there was annoyed cooperation between them as they both held them back. Both their hands went to Kael's behind, Illidan's finger wet at his entrance.

He'd meant to be gentle because the digit was clawed, Kael'thas told him not to be bothered, he needn't be so concerned. He pressed Illidan's finger inside himself, cursing in Thalassian, forcing it in all the way to the knuckle. Illidan remained as though helpless somehow, but painfully hard, it occurred to him how badly they both wanted to be touched.

"You want more," he muttered, slowly stroking another finger against his entrance, and Kael'thas cursed under his breath,

"Just fuck me already."

It came almost as shock, even if it was what they'd both intended to do. He understood, it had been dreadfully long for both of them. They'd got to it so rapidly he nearly protested, but you are not prepared, but he didn't speak. Kael'thas exhaled tensely when the digits slid out, he moved backward against Illidan as on impulse, already reaching back to finger himself.

"Move your hand," Illidan said, they both reached for his member, it was slick with fluid and slid wetly against Kael's behind. He tensely held his breath while bringing himself in position, stroking absently, fighting not to succumb to his own hands' ministrations. There issued wet, profane sounds when it went in, they both stiffened, Illidan's clawed hand tight on the flesh of Kael'thas' naked hip.

"Idiot, move," Kael'thas' voice came low, he already was pressing back against him, moving slowly, and Illidan was annoyed by that. "Watch your tongue," he warned, and Kael'thas apologized, audibly pained, like he were desperate for more. He felt Illidan's hand slide round his abdomen, possessive, large and strong, he pressed into him hard from behind. In all the way, until Kael'thas was fighting for balance, both hands clinging onto the wall; there came the humid warmth of Illidan's breath at the crook of his neck, the slight brush of his blindfold, black strands of his hair. He remained still for several moments, unmoving, as though inwardly searching for any recollection of what such a thing was like.

Kael softened at that; he didn't make further demands and instead kept his patience, even as he was painfully hard under his robes. He waited for Illidan to start moving on his own, surprised and uncertain what to make of the way he had gripped him, the way he kissed his neck; if he hadn't known better, he might've mistaken this for tenderness.

(On to Chapter 4)
A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Illidan/Kael'thas, Wrathion/Anduin, or Varian/Arthas (if this is still on here then I'm still looking, haha!) I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). I don't mind at all if you don't know much lore, if English isn't your first language, if you're a little shy, or if you're new to Warcraft or to RPing; I just like writing with someone else who's passionate about the same stuff =) If you feel like giving it a go, then please reach me through the contact info on my profile. Thank you! ^^
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Sound: an Illidan/Kael'thas Story