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Radioactive	By : RotSeele Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1353 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. I do not make any money from this story. A request by Unicorn Chronicles.

Chapter List
- 1-Radioactive
- 1
His body thrummed with anticipation. Darak’s ghostly blue eyes swept the field before him, his hands clenching and unclenching as his sharp mind formulated plans on how to take Wintergrasp for the Alliance. The white-haired human death knight turned at last to his companion, and gave his boyfriend an annoyed smile. “Are you even listening to me?” Darak asked, his tone mild but filled with irritation.
His boyfriend glanced at him and lifted his lips in a wolfish snarl. Aardian was a worgen, and so he towered over Darak when he chose to wear his lupine form, like now. A restoration druid, the two of them made the perfect team - most of the time. Right now, though, both were a little annoyed with the other, and had been arguing about something since they’d gotten up that morning. What they’d been arguing about, Darak couldn’t remember now. It didn’t matter, though, not now. Now the two had to work together to capture Wintergrasp for the Alliance.
“Aardian?”
The violet-eyed worgen’s ears flicked toward Darak. “I’m listening.”
“Are you really?”
“Yes! Thrall’s balls, I get it. Destroy the Horde towers, take the depos, profit. It’s Wintergrasp, Darak. No one comes here anymore.” Aardian grumped.
Darak scowled. “Plenty of Horde still come here. They still do things here.”
“There’s better things we could be doing with our time than griefing people who wear red.”
Darak scowled further. “Look, just listen to what I say. We’re going to take the workshops first. Then we’re going to start destroying the towers.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Aardian, I’m serious!”
“Fine! Whatever, I’ll be right behind you.”
Darak glowered at his boyfriend and got a wolfish glare in return. Finally the human conceded the contest of wills if only so they wouldn’t start a yelling match in the middle of the keep and miss the call to battle. Darak mounted his death charger while Aardian shifted to his deer travel form. As soon as the gates of the Alliance keep ground open, the two were off.
Darak thundered toward the nearest workshop, getting there before any Horde appeared. He quickly began to capture the flag, to claim the workshop as the Alliance’s own. Aardian stood nearby, acting the lookout, but he was tapping his foot against the snow-covered ground in irritation. He looked over at Darak and growled.
“Look, Darak, there’s no one here. Let’s just destroy the towers.” Aardian griped.
“No, we’re getting the workshops first.”
“Darak, there’s no need! No one is here! It’s just us!”
“We’re doing this my way!”
“Why? It’s a waste of our time.”
“It’s not a waste of time!” Darak retorted, stepping away from the freshly captured flag and toward his boyfriend. “It’s called ‘strategy’, which you’d understand if you ever listening to me in the first place!”
Aardian growled, lips drawn back to show teeth. “This is such an old battleground that strategy isn’t even needed! Stop being so uptight about doing it perfectly! Just follow me and take out the towers.”
Darak snarled and snapped, “For once, can’t you listen to me?! I’m trying to do this right so if there are Horde, they won’t be able to win!”
“That’s supposing there are Horde here, and there aren’t any!” Aardian flexed his claws. “I’m going to destroy the towers.”
“No, you’re not.” Darak took another step forward.
Aardian bared his teeth. “You want to try me? Draw the line. There’s no point in this stupid battleground anyway!”
“There’s always a point! It’s to win!”
“It’s easy to win when there’s no one here to contest it!”
They glared at each other, pride stung beyond reasoning. Aardian rose to his full height to tower over Darak. “I’m ending this before you get so involved in this shitty hellhole of a battleground against an enemy who isn’t even here.” Aardian hissed.
Darak sucked in a breath through his teeth. “This isn’t a shitty battleground, and there could be Horde here. Why can’t you listen to me?”
“Because this is stupid.”
Stung and hurt, Darak took a step back and glared at the worgen. “Fine. If it’s so stupid, you don’t have to come with me anymore. In fact, you don’t have to come with me ever again. We’re done.”
Aardian blinked. “What?”
“We’re done. Finished. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sick of arguing with you over the littlest damn thing. Screw it. I don’t have the time.” Darak swung up onto the back of his death charger.
Aardian laughed. “You don’t mean that.”
Darak didn’t grace the druid with an answer. The unholy death knight set his heels to his horse’s flanks and took off, galloping away from Aardian. The worgen watched him go, mouth agape, staring after his boyfriend in shock. He left. Actually left Aardian standing there in the snow and cold by himself.
Slowly Aardian closed his mouth and shook himself. Whatever. Darak was always saying things he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment, and Aardian was sure this was exactly that. He’d give his death knight some time and space to come around, and then they’d be together, just like always. Sighing, Aardian moved to find a flight master or somewhere out of bounds where he could change into his flight form, and took off for Dalaran, knowing that was where Darak would return to when he came to his senses. Aardian looked forward to “making up” with his boyfriend. It was what they’d always done after fighting with one another. A tradition.
As night fell on the mage-city of Dalaran, Aardian began to grow anxious. He’d returned to their room at the inn and had prepared everything for Darak’s return. Dinner was a cold mess on the table, the bath had run cold, and the bed, with its covered turned down, looked as unromantic as a bed could. Aardian paced the room, knowing that at any minute Darak would come through the door. They’d apologize, make up, like all the times before.
He’s just late. That’s all. Probably got into another battleground. Aardian turned to pace to the other end of the room.
As the hour grew later, Aardian’s chest tightened and his eyes stung. His optimistic mantra was warring with the reluctant acceptance of the truth, and he hated it. Hated himself. The first tear slipped down his cheek and his control broke there. The druid bit into his fist to muffle his sounds, and his chest hurt so fiercely, like a sword had been driven into his heart. Darak’s words echoed in his head, over and over, beating him senseless, along with his own emotions.
He’d meant it. Aardian wanted to howl and hiccuped instead. “You... you bastard.” The druid whimpered. “You meant it. You meant it.”
We’re done. I’m sick of arguing with you.
Those words beat at Aardian as if they were clubs wielded by orcs.
It was his fault. If he had only listened, if he hadn’t argued if he knew best, then Darak would be right here beside him instead of gods knew where. Aardian shut his eyes against the burning tears. They still trekked down his face. It was his fault!
Aardian grabbed his things - only then did he actually notice Darak’s belongings were gone, and that broke his heart even more - and hurried out of the inn. Night had fully ensconced Dalaran now, but the worgen hardly noticed. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the edge of Dalaran and leaped, transforming into a storm crow as gravity snagged his body. He flew hard and fast, heading back to Wintergrasp, looking for Darak. High and low he searched, day and night; days blended into weeks. A rumor was chased until he came up empty handed. A sighting was followed until he couldn’t follow anymore. And with each passing hour, Aardian grew more desperate, and cried himself to sleep, in more emotional pain than he’d ever felt before.
Still, he kept looking. He couldn’t give up. He didn’t want to give up.
But it was looking like he would have to.
Day seven of week three found Aardian staring despondently into a cup of tea in his hands. He stood in the last place he could think of to look - the Argent tournament grounds in Icecrown. At one time, Darak had expressed an intense desire to acquire Frostmourne, and to become the new Lich King. Since that hadn’t happened, and likely wouldn’t, Darak had focused on other things, the Tournament being one. Aardian told himself he would look here, and if he didn’t find Darak by sundown, he would accept defeat. He’d give up. Accept their break up and move on as gracefully as he could - and find a dark corner of Azeroth to curl up and cry in.
“So, there I was, hunting ten buzzard asses...”
Aardian’s ears pricked forward. His heart began to hammer in his chest.
Slowly he turned and watched as Darak walked toward him. But the death knight wasn’t alone. No, the human was accompanied by a Draenei and, surprisingly, a blood elf. The Draenei had the look of a paladin, while the blood elf looked to share a death knight’s traits, even though she was clad in next to nothing that could call itself armor and believe it.
Aardian dropped his tea and stepped into their path. “Darak.”
The human death knight stopped. “Aardian.”
Aardian swallowed hard to keep his voice - and control - from cracking. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Darak looked at his two companions. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”
The Draenei and blood elf nodded and continued toward the main tent of the Argent Crusade, leaving Darak and Aardian alone.
Aardian took a step forward. “Darak-“
“Don’t.” There was a bite to the word. “Just don’t. I said we were done. I meant it.”
Tears stung Aardian’s eyes against his will. “I’m sorry.”
“Sure you are.” Darak retorted. “Just like all the times before. Save it, Aardian. I don’t want to hear it.” He brushed past Aardian, his face a cold mask.
Aardian let the sob escape because he lacked the strength to hold it back. He’d seen it, briefly and too quick to believe if it was real, the hurt in Darak’s eyes. “I’m sorry!” Aardian whimpered. “I’m sorry! I should’ve listened to you! I should’ve stuck with you. I sh-shouldn’t have yelled at you like that! Fought with you. It’s all y fault and I can’t change that.” Could he believe that there and gone flash of pain in Darak’s eyes? No, he couldn’t. Because if it was only his imagination, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. “I... I’ll go. I love you, Darak, and I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll g-go. I just th-thought... maybe...” He cut himself off. Walk, you damn fool. Walk away. You have to walk away.
He took one step. That was all he could take, because soon after he stepped away plate armor-encased arms wrapped around his middle and held tight. Darak’s cheek pressed into his back. Those arms tightened, preventing the druid from going anywhere.
“Don’t.” Darak said softly. “Don’t go.”
He let Aardian turn and shift out of his worgen form. That was all Darak allowed him to do before they were hugging each other again tight enough to make breathing difficult.
Aardian cried wordlessly into Darak’s shoulder for a while, then fell into a torrent of apologies. “I love you!” he whimpered. “I need you, Darak. I n-need you so much. I l-love you so much... when I realized you meant we were done, done don, I-“
Darak silenced him with a kiss. When they parted, Darak said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said what I did, but I meant it. I don’t want to leave you, ‘Dian, but I can’t keep arguing with you. I love you so much but...”
Aardian nodded, sniffling. “I understand.”
Darak caught his chin and kissed Aardian again. “I won’t leave you again. I promise. But you have to promise me you’ll trust my decisions. You’ll compromise instead of arguing with me.”
Aardian shivered and kissed Darak back with all the passion and love he could. “I promise.” And he meant it.
Darak’s blue eyes brightened at the certainty in his boyfriend’s voice. He kissed Aardian, deepening it until their tongues were warring, and it was clear that the druid would need to breathe soon. They parted, Aardian panting harshly.
“So,” Darak said, his voice thick with desire, “do you think we can make it to Dalaran?”
Aardian’s eyes sparked. “It’s warmer in Dalaran.”
That much decided, the two of them managed to release each other long enough to fly to the mage-city. The moment they landed, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, though they didn’t go beyond the risqué touches and kisses that left them both panting and aching. Somehow they made it to an inn to the room, and before the door was even locked, Darak had Aardian pinned against the wood, their mouths sealed together as the death knight busied his hands with the worgen’s robs. When he got Aardian’s belt undone, he slipped his hand into the druid’s pants and gripped him, stroking his cock with precise motions.
Aardian moaned, his knees turning to jelly. Darak kept him standing and slid down Aardian’s front until he was kneeling between the druid’s legs. He replaced his hand with his mouth, taking Aardian’s cock into his mouth until his nose was buried in coarse curls. Aardian whined and gripped Darak’s white hair, pulling as he felt the human’s tongue playing against the vein and cap, teeth scraping along his hardened shaft as Darak bobbed his head. Aardian rolled his hips forward as Darak slid his fingers between his legs, brushing against the pucker of muscle there. The worgen druid moaned as he felt Darak gently probing him, barely pushing inside with one finger. When he tried to push back against Darak’s questing digit, his death knight - damn him - pulled his fingers back and let Aardian slip out of his mouth.
Aardian whined. “Darak...”
“Shh.” Darak rose, licking his lips to get more of Aardian’s taste on his tongue. He pulled his druid toward the bed, shedding armor and clothing as they went. Then he shoved Aardian onto the bed. Darak crawled on top of him, pressing their naked bodies together. “I love you.”
Aardian’s reply was a moan, because Darak had begun pressing kisses to his neck while his fingers punched and played with the hardened nubs of his nipples. Their cocks brushed together with each of their movements, causing them to gasp and mewl and writhe more against each other. Aardian’s hands played with Darak’s sensitive spots, driving the death knight wild just as Darak was driving his worgen insane with his featherlight kisses and touches.
They played with each other’s bodies for what seemed liked hours, raising each other to the cusp of completion and backing off before one or the other could come. Sweat-slicked skin slid against sweat-slicked skin, fingers and teeth and tongues playing rhythms that only they knew. And then Darak pressed two fingers into Aardian, ending the foreplay with a quick thrust of his wrist. Aardian moaned and writhed on Darak’s fingers, arching his spine as the death knight moved his wrist, scissoring his fingers to stretch his druid for the final act of their carnal play.
“Please,” breathed Aardian, “please, Darak.”
“Please what?” panted Darak, achingly hard and ready to show Aardian just how much the man meant to him.
“Please.” came the pleading moan.
“Please what?”
It was a ritual. It was something they’d always done, and it had to be observed. It was something that was theirs and theirs alone, the ritual of pleading and refusing until the right words were said.
“Please,” Aardian whimpered at last, “I want you inside me. Please.” The druid took a sharp breath and added, “I love you.”
Darak shivered and hissed his druid as he pulled his fingers from his body. “I love you, too.” he whispered. Then he gripped Aardian’s hips, spread his lover’s legs, and pressed the head of his cock to that loosened hole. Then, slowly, he slid inside Aardian until he was fully sheathed inside the worgen.
For a heartbeat they remained still; then Darak pulled out until only the first inches or so of him was left inside Aardian, hesitated, and pushed back in.
Aardian clung to him as Darak set the pace, a gentle yet demanding one. It required Aardian to yield to Darak, to simply move his hips in a counter-rhythm, and Aardian obeyed. Darak kissed his worgen’s ear, whispering soft endearments into the warm shell. Aardian whimpered and moaned his death knight’s name, then began to cry wordlessly as the pace increased and that perfect angle was found and abused with every thrust.
Then the druid’s passage began to tighten, so Darak slipped his hand between their bodies and gripped Aardian’s cock, stroking the hard shaft in time with their movements. That touch, combined with the feel of Darak inside him, was enough to send Aardian over the edge. He came with a cry - “DARAK!” - and his muscles clamped down tight on the death knight, squeezing and pulsing as his orgasm washed through him like a tidal wave.
Darak smeared Aardian’s fluids over their owner’s skin as he moved his hand from Aardian’s softening cock to his hips and thrust harder into his lover before the heat, the vice-like tightness, and the sheer sight of his lover so undone got to him. He thrust as deep into Aardian as he could as he came, groaning, into the druid’s shoulder. The sensation of being filled by Darak’s seed made Aardian moan and shiver in delight.
After a few moments of panting, both relaxed enough to separate. Aardian snuggled tight against Darak’s side as the death knight pulled the blankets over them to ward off the chill that was now creeping into their skin.
“So...” Aardian began.
“So?”
“Who were they?”
“Huh?”
“That Draenei and elf.”
“Eh, just people I met while I was collecting buzzard asses.”
Aardian popped up on his elbow and stared down in disbelief at his lover. “Seriously? You were actually doing that?”
Darak folded an arm behind his head and snuggled. “Of course. Wh would I lie? You can’t make that shit up.”
Aardian’s stare became curious.
Darak grinned. “Okay, so this is how it went down...”
- 1
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