A/N: This story was written on Skype somehow deep into the night, so it's a nightblogging thing, a little xD Ilenn written ideas for the first part, smut is purely mine.

I'm not much into Taim/Mishraile, but she loves Taim, so…

This story has fast changes of POV, so the lines are making it more easy to read. Also, Mishraile always thinks of Taim as "M'Hael", while Taim thinks of himself "Taim" in case you'll be confused by POV's.

Dedicated at the Black Tower had the guard duty – they were stationed all around the Black Tower, keeping everyone safe. But those who knew what was important were almost fighting for the honor of guarding the Palace, in which only the Asha'man in highest rank were sleeping in.

And, of course, their M'Hael.

Mishraile – tall, beautiful man with wavy hair made of gold, whose deep voice was making even some of the older women feel pleasant chills, was always the first one to sign for the night shift. One of the reasons was the fact that his senses were more on alert in the nighttime and he liked to fall asleep at the dawn, waking up around the noon. But the most important – and he supposed it was the true one – reason was to guard M'Hael's door.

He was spending each and every night trying to hear even a rustle of sheets, maybe… well, maybe something more. His imagination was running wild and his not-so-subtle crush on Asha'man leader was making him shiver and feel excited just touching the doorknob to man's bedroom. Only a shame that M'Hael was barely acknowledging his existence

Sleeping was lately not an easy thing to do.

Taim was lying awake in his bed, wondering if others Forsaken knew about him – he had been spying on few of them, made a small hobby out of it, and while he was sure that few of them had no idea he was chosen, there was always that slight suspicion that both Graendal and Demandred had their own sources. Sleeping right now could be dangerous – the world of dreams was Moghedien's domain and every of the female Forsaken could open the gate inside of his bedchamber and no one around would know better. Himself included.

And there was the issue of Rand al'Thor. A man who was besting him out in everything he was trying to do, tossing him from one corner to another like a toy that is no longer necessary and making him bow his head to the bloody future Queen of Andor. He barely stopped himself from snapping chit's neck earlier this day.

He was wondering if that fury inside of him will ever disappear – he was accustomed to anger, it was in his very nature, after all he was a Saldaean, but in last few months he couldn't calm himself down in any way.

Shuffling outside the door and a loud sneeze made him wonder why Mishraile won't do anything with that cold. His sneezing was annoying and if he's going to do this once more, Taim will blast his nose off.

Wait. That's Mishraile for the sixth time this week, who the bloody ashes is making these shifts?

His brows furrowed and he almost fueled himself with saidin, wondering if the pretty man was one of the Forsaken's spy. Or assassin, even though he was nowhere near his power. Too obvious for Demandred, but very much in Graendal's style – send him someone who he'll ignore just to die seconds later. That kind of plan would suit many Forsaken, but the fact that Mishraile was quite beautiful (or so he recalled, Taim didn't even try to remember all of the faces) was her idea of beautiful death.

The very next morning Taim found Kamelle – a Kandori, who was strangely tall, even taller than al'Thor himself – and asked him about the shifts, only to learn that yes, Mishraile was often signing for night watch and always in Palace, but he never was signed to guard Taim's door. But he often bullied those who were to switch places. Kamelle, proud like a peacock, was sure that it's something that would strengthen Dedicate's spirit, but not even one could stand up to Mishraile, but if M'Hael wants it, then he'll stop it.

Well, M'Hael didn't want to. But it seemed that some certain blond will receive a small talking-to.

Mishraile was partly embarrassed that he's been found out – Kamelle, as stupid as tall, had the gall to scold him because M'Hael was disappointed in him! - and partly pissed off because that meant an end to the shift trading. So, desperate, he gathered his courage one night and marched up to the Palace, well after office hours but regardless requesting to see the M'Hael.

He's granted an audience, and by this time Taim, who really wasn't stupid, figured out Mishraile's motives, and said, with that almost-smile of his...

"I was wondering if you'd show up one of these days."

Mishraile immediately forgot everything he had planned to say, trying to figure something on the fly so that M'Hael won't send him away for bothering him. M'Hael ignored his obvious awkwardness and channeled over a pitcher and two glasses. "Wine?"

Too shocked by the development to say anything at all, Mishraile nodded. He listened mutely while M'Hael talked of random things for a while; something about Mishraile's training. Mishraile begun to wonder whether his first impression was wrong and his leader doesn't know why he came here at the night time, after all. He began to wonder if he should just make a graceful exit while he still can.

But then black-haired man sat his glass away and looked at Mishraile sharply. "But... that's not why you're here at all, isn't it?"

Mishraile dropped his glass. In a split of second M'Hael advanced on him and pinned him against the nearest wall.

Misharille's knees had gone weak, but he's not the type to just go down like this, after all he has his pride. And Taim knows it. But he also knows the depths of the light-haired man's feelings - he was observing him since he got to know that it was his idea to change night shifts. And he wants to know what Mishraile will do if pushed in a right way. Blond man was, after all, pretty impulsive and at times reckless, stupid almost.

"Do you plan something against me, Mishraile?"

He's going pale, his complexion suddenly losing all his blood. Yes, he's still quite excited, but he knows that right now his life may be on the stake.

"Why would you think that, M'Hael?" he whispered, half-horrified, half-angry. "I was always loyal to you, I would never do anything to harm you!"

Corners of Taim's mouth are turning upwards. This was the opening he was waiting for. "Then what's the reason behind you guarding my door each night six times in a row?"

Fully on purpose he steps a little closer, almost nose-to-nose. From this distance he can't see the whole face of quite beautiful man, but he surely can feel his shivers. He's not sure if he would like them more to be out of fear or desire.

Mishraile gulps audibly and is trying few times to say what's on his mind, but doesn't know if that's such a good idea. M'Hael can kill him on spot if he's going to offend him. But... But this was his chance. And M'Hael was so close... he could feel his breath mixing with his own, could feel the surprising warm radiating from the man - he always looked so cold it was strange to realize he could be warm... This made him think of how warm was M'Hael's skin and how smooth or rough it was.

And there were those black, merciless eyes - right now staring into his very soul. Despite himself he hears his own voice saying "I wanted to protect you."

Taim's smirk is disappearing. This wasn't the answer he wanted and the fury inside of him started growing. Why was Mishraile lying to him? Bloody Rand al'Thor, bloody lord Dragon, had three women on the beck and call, and some slip of a boy couldn't even tell him what he wanted to hear? No. He was going to have him. And it would be like winning, because Mishraile was more beautiful than those girls, much more intelligent and he would do absolutely everything for him.

"This doesn't sound convincing, Mishraile." He let the name dance dangerously at the end of his tongue and felt a flow of satisfaction when long, light lashes fluttered. "You could kill me without anyone realizing it."

Mishraile shook his head. "I know you're guarding your room heavily, M'Hael." There was some strange mixture of awe, respect and regret in his voice.

"And how would you know that?" When startlingly blue eyes widened, Taim almost snorted. Yes, you fell into the trap, he thought. Now spill everything.

Mishraile's heart was hammering inside his chest, his head felt light both with delight at having his precious M'Hael so close and at the obvious danger he was in. He was even sure that one wasn't that different from the other.

"I tried to get in" he breathed out and closed his eyes. He was trying to do this each and every night without any luck. The wards build from saidin where too strong even for him.

"Why? To kill me?"

Head full of golden locks - which made that Elayne's head look like an birds nest made of dead leafs - once again shook. It was close. The words that would satisfy him for some time. "I wanted just to look at you". The words were clear and sound - Mishraile was right now looking him straight into the eye. With only a trace of fear and much more of waiting.

Taim smirked and took step back, enjoying the look of loss and terror on the pretty face. A really gorgeous face now that he had mind to look at it. Yes, he will have fun with that one. "You may go, Mishraile. Now I don't have to worry, having you guarding my door, do I?" The sarcasm in his voice was probably heard because Asha'man twitched and saluted before hurrily going outside the door.

It was late at night and Mishraile was walking around back door of the Palace, wondering what to do. M'Hael didn't kill him, after he pretty much confessed his unhealthy obsession with him. But he didn't even spare him a look during the day. Usually blond man would wait and look for the right moment to strike, but last night he didn't sleep even a wink and couldn't do it even during the day.

Feeling quite nervous he moved down the corridor and his feet were carrying him without a fail, they knew the way just as good as his mind. The man who was guarding M'Hael's door this time was young and annoyingly smile-ish. "You take the back door" he barked out, not even bothering to act sly. The man - boy, more like - jumped with fright and run as fast as he could. Mishraile's temper was quite known among newbies for some time already.

Sonding corridors with saidin he didn't feel anything except Jurin, who was standing far away and pulsed with his own saidin, to make sure Mishraile knew he was there. Not a perfect way of communication, but it had to do.

Exhaling loudly Mishraile leaned on the door, wondering if M'Hael is already asleep. From what he heard the man was going to sleep pretty early, to be the first one on feets. Licking his lips nervously he touched the doorknob and twisted it. When he heard "click" his heart jumped up and started beating so wildly he felt it in his throat, and the excitement was making him dizzy. It was almost like the saidin was going through him, but the feeling wasn't ugly - it was amazing, he felt so alive.

But since he wanted to stay alive he wondered if he should do this.

The opening door wasn't anything new - it was like every other night. But when he pushed them - they cracked open, which was new. He sucked the air through his teeth and with surprise looked at his hand, which was trembling. He wanted to go in. He wanted to see M'Hael in his bed, laying in white shirt (or without a shirt - whispered something inside of his head, making the blood in his body move south), gorgeously black hair sprawled on the pillow... And with eyes closed, mouth not firmly pressed, relaxed. Because everyone were looking relaxed in their sleep and that was only one of the few faces he never saw on M'Hael, but wanted so badly.

His arm pushed the door open and without sneaking - that could end badly - he came inside, made two steps and stopped. The bed was empty.

Suddenly the door behind him crashed closed, he was yanked by the elbow and smashed into the wood. He wanted to reach for saidin, but it was too late. Mishraile saw only flash of the deepest black eyes he ever saw and then he couldn't think at all, because he was being kissed.

Taim was waiting for Mishraile to appear. He wanted to have his fun - if bloody al'Thor could have it, so could he. But Mishraile was getting on his nerves. It was well past midnight and the boy was still not the one guarding his door. The moment he wanted to go and find the blond by himself and make him regret making him wait he heard loud "You take the back door" in a very well-known barking voice. Good.

But before Mishraile finished his play with the doorknob Taim's patience was as its end. He was furious. How long one could wait!? Finally golden hair moved through the door and after the head the rest of the slim, strong body. Mishraile had a nice silhouette. This is why Taim closed the door with as much force his arms could muster - and being so mad it was quite a force - then took man's elbow and pressed his mouth firmly on Mishraile's, almost laughing aloud when the harsh and commanding man instantly melted in his arms, groaning loudly.

Mishraile's head was empty, all he could do was to feel. M'Hael's long, strong fingers on his hips, harshly kneading them. Mishraile's fingers buried in black hair, playing with them, feeling their structure, their smoothness... His free hand was working on unbuttoning his own caftan. M'Hael's tongue was deep in his mouth, dominating him, making him react to every stroke of the slick muscle, to every move of thin lips on his own.

It was good, Taim had to admit it. He couldn't remember when was the last time he took someone to bed, he was too busy for things like that and his veins were usually filled with hate and fury, than desire. But this was good. Mishraile was truly gifted, he was receptive and sensitive, his moans muffled by their tongues, the hard muscle rubbing on Taim's leg clearly showing just how aroused he was.

That hand playing with his hair was also quite nice, though he wanted more. Feeling how Mishraile is trying to undress himself Taim channeled and with the Fire he burned Mishraile's caftan and shirt, not even touching the skin or hair. The man moaned when Taim's cold hand gripped his side and took him closer, so their chests where touching, buttons of Taim's caftan harsh on the soft, milky skin. Mishraile was holding onto him, his body pliant, perfectly plastered onto his.

Taim growled and one of his hand moved down, cupped Mishraile's cheek and moved him slightly upwards, hissing at the friction. He didn't even know he was also getting hard. Slowly he was getting lost in his own game, being sucked into it by Mishraile's willing mouth, by his shaking hands and his moans. And he let himself be lost, because this was a game that wanted him to surrender to pleasure. And he liked the pleasure.

With controlled hands he unbuttoned his own caftan and shirt, but let Mishraile pull away from the kiss - with glisting mouth, eyes heavily-lidded and he couldn't remember last time when he saw something as blue as the mans' eyes - and slip trembling fingers under the fabric, letting him slide the material down his arms and back, caressing the flesh on the way, making his skin hum with pleasure. He smirked widely when the man leaned down and planted a - strangely disbelieving - kiss on his naked shoulder. He let his eyes close and enjoy the sparks of pleasure each kiss prompted.

Mishraile couldn't believe it. He was kissing M'Hael's naked body, and it wasn't a dream. He looked once again at the sight before him and barely stifled a moan. M'Hael had beautiful body. So strong, yet so slim, almost scrawny, muscles not very well shown, but felt. His kisses were now more passionate, full-mouthed. When his teeth grazed the skin on the ribs he looked up but didn't saw displeasure on man's face, so he soothed the bite with his tongue and nipped on the navel, then dipped his tongue deep inside. Like on their own volition his fingers started unbuttoning M'Hael's trousers and soon he felt the hard, hot muscle under his hand.

Taim felt the touch on his aching cock and shivered slightly. Yes, this was good. When he looked down he almost snorted - Mishraile was looking at this particular part of his body like it was the Light itself. Then he saw the tongue darting out of the full mouth and let himself relax and take the first lick on the head of his member. Hot flame shot through his veins. Then again and again. Only by the sheer force of will didn't he sway on his feet. When he looked at Mishraile he wondered for a second how someone could have such a beautiful hair.

M'Hael tasted perfectly. He was salty, musky and the smell... Mishraile was licking the cock at first with wonder, then with passion and engagement. When he took the head through his lips for the first time he fully intended to concentrate on the feeling but then... then he felt M'Hael's hand in his hair, fingers massaging his scalp before gripping his locks. It felt so good he moaned loudly and then even louder, although the sound was muffled, because after his first moan M'Hael took the advantage of his open mouth and slid in.

The first moment Mishraile gagged, because M'Hael forced his head too close to his crotch, hand in his hair loosened and fingers caressed his locks and scalp. For the touch like that he was willing to do much more. So he backed his head a little and sucked on the head, his hand slightly fondling testicles brushed with soft, black hair. His tongue dipping into slide on the head, then in one swift movement he took as much as he could, his nose buried in black curls, without a breath but with a head being petted with affection.

Taim knew that Mishraile was easy to manipulate, but didn't realize just how much - he was taking him all the way just for a slight caress. Which was opening the door to so many possibilities... He hissed when Mishraile once again took him deep, this time his tongue darting out so he could lick his balls.

"Yes..." he murmured, feeling the passion running through his body. "Like that, Mishraile..."

Blond man moaned and tried to take him even deeper, but gagged and Taim let him slide back and take a breath, before pushing his hips forward and with the hand in golden locks making the head of his cock push past soft lips. He liked doing this - sliding in and off of Mishraile's mouth. Mishraile, who was right now unbuttoning his own trousers and with one hand touching himself, clearly close to his orgasm. Which was something that Taim wasn't going to let him.

He could die now and he would die happily - and for an Asha'man that was saying something. Mishraile was feeling so good, so amazing. M'Hael - his beloved M'Hael's cock fucking his mouth, his hand gripping and caressing his hair on change and Mishraile's own hand taking his member and stroking him to completion. He felt it - the strange tingling in his spine, the hotness in his stomach and the overwhelming pleasure... a pleasure that was suddenly interrupted, when M'Hael hauled him back and by hair shoved him up and forward, so when his face hit the bed he was too aroused to say much. He didn't even flinch when he felt the man to channel and suddenly his pants were on fire so burning, that there was only ash left from them. And if that wasn't making him more excited, then he didn't know what else could.

Taim was looking down at Mishraile and licked his lips. There were only two things right now going through his head. First was that Mishraile - kneeling on his bed, with his flushed, gorgeous face pressed on the mattress, golden hair sprawled on the covers, with so much creamy skin on display, with his ass up and leaking cock hanging between legs was the most exciting thing he ever saw. And second was his smug and utterly satisfying knowledge that no matter who bloody al'Thor was and what he had, he will never see something like that. He will never have someone who wanted him so much. He'll never know how is to being wanted so much, that he person could kill and get killed for him, because his precious girls were too selfish for that.

But Taim had Mishraile - both with body and mind. And now he'll take what's his. Only his. No one to share with. No one to take what's his. And that was the most powerful thought.

Mishraile's hands were gripping the sheets and he himself was almost numb with the desire. When something touched his entry, he twitched but groaned and pushed hips up, knowing what'll happen. And he wanted this. Wanted so much...

Taking his time Taim took of his trousers and folded them, his eyes still glued to Mishraile, who didn't move an inch. Good. His long, lithe body was looking the best in this position. He took his time before slicking his finger and touching the twitching hole. He bite his lip as to not laugh when Mishraile moved his hips up, clearly wanting to take the finger inside. Greedy. Good. His finger slipped in easily, but from Mishraile's hiss it seemed it was burning a little. His problem. Taim even wanted to know that the blond will remember this whenever he was going to seat. Maybe he'll make him train sword fight in the morning. With a smile he wetted the entrance a little and took his cock in hand, sliding over the hole, taking firm cheeks in hands and squeezing them over his member. Marvelous feeling...

Mishraile was close to weeping with desire, his whole body wanted M'Hael and yet what was happening was already making him close to edge. He was feeling the tip of M'Hael's cock poking slightly at his entrance whenever he was sliding forward. This is why nothing prepared him for sudden thrust that made his hole burn. He cried out and almost darted forward, but strong - bruisingly strong - hands were gripping his hips, holding him in place. M'Hael's pace was fast and hard, he was sliding into him with a raw force and Mishraile was feeling so good that after fourth thrust the burning disappeared and all he could feel was exquisite pleasure, one he never thought he could feel. His loud moans were filling the room along with obscene sound of flesh hitting a flesh.

Taim was completely lost. Tarmon Gaidon could start right now and he would still pound into Mishraile's round ass, taking him and claiming for his own. The sobs of pleasure, cries and groans were music to his ears, making his head spin and hips move faster. With a growl he slipped out - smirking wildly when Mishraile almost howled with loss and pushed his ass as far as he could - and yanked the blond on his back, enjoying the sheer force of muscles he had to use to do this. But he was hungry, greedy, wanted to look into his face when he was fucking him raw. Wanted Mishraile to finally say the words that the bloody al'Thor probably still didn't hear from any of those girls. He wanted to be first and will be.

Mishraile mewled happily when M'Hael once again thrusted into him, filling him again, making him whole. Some tiny part of him was afraid that without this he'll be filling a void that won't be filled by anyone else or anything else, but soon he forgot about this. When he opened his eyes the world suddenly didn't matter. M'Hael was beautiful - his cold and indifferent mask slipped and he saw the fire in those black eyes, he drank in the sight of twisted mouth, of the growl that was slipping through them. M'Hael was wild and gorgeous and... And he suddenly hit some spot inside of him and Mishraile's head fallen back, he cried out and couldn't stop, the pleasure too much, just too much and... "I love you" he heard himself sob out. "I love, please, oh, ah, mmwah, M'Hael... love you, please..."

Taim was close, so close - Mishraile's words were almost everything he wanted to hear. He was so close to coming, blond man was clamping on him so hard it almost hurt, but it was good, and his blue eyes were staring at him with adoration and desperation. Gold hair plastered on sweaty forehead and darkened with sweat. Growling Taim moved his head down and kissed Mishraile possessively, thrusting his tongue almost brutally in and taking man's mouth for himself, biting his lower lip to the blood. And then, feeling that Mishraile is close - mewling and sobbing, thrashing around, his whole body trembling - he growled: "Who do you belong to, Atal?" and they both found completion when the man with golden hair sobbed out "To you, ahn… mwah, ah… I belong to you M'Hael, with all I have, mwah, please..."

He won. He won and he knew it.

After some time, with sudden feeling of satisfaction he slipped out of Mishraile and walked to the drawer, trying to hide the fact that his legs were slightly trembling. Well, he still was in better shape than Mishraile, who was still lying on the bed, close to being asleep. He took some clothes and dropped them on the bed in front of the man.

Mishraile looked up, feeling such a happiness he couldn't even voice it out. Because M'Hael was looking at him. He called him by his name. And right now he was giving him his clothes, something that Mishraile will cherish forever. But that wasn't everything. Next words made him smile like an idiot the whole way to his own room. "You'll be guarding my door every night from now on, Mishraile. Don't let me be disappointed in the faith I put in you."

A/N: Reviews, guys! My first (and probably last) WoT story, but I would love to know your opinion! And forgive me mistakes – I'm not a native speaker.