Another Game of Tag: Nightfrost and Stef

By Rillan macDhai

Smut Warning! This is an AU story to Rogue Magick taking place in chapter 12: Differences, after Nightfrost talks with Richelle and Giselle and Stef shows up injured from a fight with the Defias. Basically guy x guy pairing with mild to graphic sex. If this offends you, please don't read my stuff. Yes, Blizzard still owns the setting, I own all the OCs.

Thanks to Nyxe for coming up with "samer" as a term for gay pairings. I don't know if its original to that writer, but that's where I saw it first.

I sure wish Blizzard would publish a cross-reference for Thalassian and Orcish to Common. And a decent timeline with how many years are between recent events. If anyone knows where I can find these, please drop me an email or mention it in a review.

This is a present for Awreel, because he/she wanted to see the pairing. Some of this is either paraphrased or direct from Chapter 12 of Rogue Magick, but I hope to get to the new smutty stuff quickly.

Our cast:

Stef, human, blue eyed, ash brown hair (not as light as Firesworn's bleaches to on the ends), around 5'5" - 5'7" (of a height with Nightfrost). I'm guessing he's in his late teens, early twenties

Sky Nightfrost, blood elf, blue eyed (makes him look like a high elf), black hair growing out to dark brown with rust overlay that will give him red highlights as it sun bleaches. Looks like he would be about the same age as Stef or a bit older, he was somewhere between 10 & 30 when the Sunwell exploded.

brief appearance by Giselle in the intro stuff

It was toward the end of the third week of our nightly runs and Stef and I had just collapsed after one of our more full-out games of rogues' tag. I was painfully regaining just the barest ability to call shadow, not even as much as a simple apprentice, just roughly equivalent to the blending hunters and any of my very distantly related night elf cousins might be able to do. It didn't hurt to do it, but I couldn't move and hold the magick without triggering headaches.

"You are getting better," Stef said.

I just nodded.

He rolled onto his side and lie there; close enough I could feel his body heat, just watching me. From one of my kin, I would have read it as invitation. With a human male, I wasn't sure, they seem very shy of samer pairings when not confined to prison. I decide to let him make the first move, if that was what he was contemplating.

He watched me, face a perfect poker mask until I was beginning to feel the chill of the night seeping into me. He must have felt it as well, for he stood, offering me a hand to pull myself up. He might have held my fingers a fraction overlong and his eyes never left my face, but if he was working himself up for something, his nerve must have failed. Or I was simply misreading things after weeks of frustration and months of abstinence. Allowing himself a very small smile, he let go and started back to town.

Richelle had been loud and when Giselle started asking me about who I wanted and what he looked like, I was fairly convinced the whole farm, if not the whole town had heard our conversation. I wondered what shade of red I still was when Stef dropped off the roof of the bathhouse looking like he'd just finished one of our rougher games of tag. One arm hung limp at his side and he was obviously in pain.

Giselle and I got him into the bathhouse while he told us about the Defias attack that had left him with a dislocated shoulder and most of his day team with the Healer. I got his shoulder back into joint and told him he was putting me on the guard rotation. I blamed it on my need to protect Giselle and while that was true, I was also worried about Stef and the rest of the team I was slowly getting to know. He accepted, which rather surprised me, and Giselle left to tell Grandmamma and Richelle. He was worried enough he told her to call one of the dogs, since he'd signed to me out of her sight that he wanted to talk. I nodded agreement, said something about helping Stef with his armor and watched her leave, two of the white pack roaming close to her.

Stef had began undoing the rest of his armor one-handed until I took over. "I'm not helpless, Sky."

"No, but you've done it for me often enough. And you wanted to talk?" He didn't keep protesting and seemed to relax a bit, on a physical level at least.

"You know Bobby Twoknives?" he asked.

"I see my letters went through more hands than the goblin post." I was annoyed, but Grandmamma had already looked at them. "Yes, I know Bobby, he was in prison with me."

"Two of the Alliance's most wanted and nobody recognized who you were? Should I drop by with a mana cake for Illidan?" he joked, but there was a tension in his voice more than just his need to keep moving after a kill could account for, though finding out Bobby was high on the Alliance's list of wanted men explained it. Partly.

"Maybe," I said, trying to keep things light. "There are a lot of people still rotting in those cells."

"Bobby's a wickedly murderous little bastard," said Stef, "but from all reports, he's always supported the Alliance, even when he was stiffing Stormwind's peerage. How'd you ever team up with him?"

"Not a clue. He just adopted Firesworn and I, once I got dropped in with them. Never explained why."

Stef gave a little yelp of unexpected pain as I helped him ease his shirt off. "So," he said once he wasn't wincing, "you've not specifically allied with the Defias?"

"So that's what this is about? Seriously, do you think I'd tell you?" I showed him my right hand, definitely lacking the Defias' cog tatoo. "Bobby's just a friend. We left faction politics and feuds out of it. Besides, from what he'd said, he'd been in the army in Northrend. He still has the tattoo, but I don't think he was being active before the cops nicked him."

"We haven't had any murders of the nobility that matched his style for a while," Stef said. He looked like he was still hurting and wanted to be moving, which could only be expected. I sympathized with his desire to burn out the stress, but he wasn't up to any more woods running.

"Could you dump a bucket of hot water over me?" he asked.

"Actually, we should be getting something cold on that, if you aren't going to the Healer."

"I know," he said, standing up. "I'm just nasty with sweat and blood."

"Okay." I got a bucket from the hot tub and turned around to see him watching me with his poker face stare as he slowly worked his belt loose with one hand. "Oh, for the Sunwell," I muttered and went to help him with it. He didn't move, except to let me take over, un-strapping the light leg armor and finishing loosening the belt and undoing the buttons on his fly.

I dropped down on my knees and unknotted the laces of his boots, helping him step out of them. He didn't say anything, but his eyes never left my face. I could feel his stare even when I wasn't looking. His skin was lightly tanned, still mostly free of the hair human males grow as they age. His body and legs were lithe as an elf's, as you would only expect of a rogue, and I felt myself getting hard, suddenly very aware of the musky scent of him.

There was an awkward pause as I looked up, but his eyes never changed, he didn't say a word, yes or no. Un-rebuked, I rose up a little on my knees, hooked my fingers into the top of his pants and drawers and gently eased them down. He shifted just enough to help release things and I quickly slid his clothes the rest of the way off.

His body saluted me, definitely interested. I knew I had an answering bulge I needed to shift, but took a quick moment to admire him. He was nicely proportioned; with the foreskin human males have intact. His erection was like a rosebud, complete with drop of dew. I wondered what he would taste like, met his eyes, and knew I was blushing bright red as any virgin.

I stood up hurriedly and in one of my less bright moments, kicked his gear out of the way and sluiced him down with the water bucket. Thoroughly embarrassed, I scooped another bucketful and rinsed his back, which at least let me break that unnerving stare. I nerved myself enough for filling one last bucket, grabbed a washcloth and tossed it in, then fled to one of the farther tubs myself, half expecting I'd feel his garrote on my neck and more than half-convinced I deserved it for taking liberties with him.

I kept my back to him in a decidedly non-roguish way, striped off my own clothes and plunged into a tub without bothering to rinse first. Maybe he'd just drown me.

I really needed find a way to talk to Richelle about humans and their mating habits without triggering her desire to show me in detail. Which was the wrong line of thought to follow, since I was already painfully hard.

I could hear him splashing and clattering around, then the soft squelch of wet footsteps. I allowed myself to shrink deeper into the tub. He crawled in with me, but blessedly neither looked at me nor tried to kill me.

After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, he asked me how I'd stolen the Alliance's battle flag and I relaxed enough to start telling him. Story finished with a pledge to keep me away from excessive alcohol and we both fell silent again, the tension between us somewhat diffused.

Of course, my body had other things in mind. It wasn't interested in relaxing as long as Stef was anywhere near me and I wasn't going to be able to do anything about it until I either fled the tub or Stef left. I really wanted to give in and make an advance, but my only knowledge of male humans and their approach to sex was from months in the Stockades. Bobby's murderous reputation and implied claim to Firesworn and I had kept us safe from rape until we could defend ourselves, but what I'd seen there I could only hope was not the standard for the race.

"Nightfrost?" Stef's voice was hesitant and he didn't use my working name unless we were somewhere private. I certainly wasn't sure the bathhouse qualified. "I heard Richelle and you talking."

Maybe I should just drown myself. Perhaps the whole town had heard us.

He continued, "I was still getting through the trees and I didn't want her to know I'd blundered into your private talk."

I just shut my eyes and thought about letting the water close over my head. He was fidgeting, splashing around and sounding like he was about as embarrassed as I was.

"I know you said you don't do casual sex outside your race, is that just not with women or not with men either?"

I looked up, knowing I had to look like a startled deer, and found he'd moved a lot closer than I'd realized.

He was staring at me again, but at least he kept talking.

"I've wanted to kiss you, Nightfrost. I want to know what you taste like and hold you when you know someone's there for you. I know you want someone else and Richelle wants you and . . . and maybe you want her, but . . ." the flatness went out of his stare, replaced by a hungry, almost equally frightening need. "Could we at least pretend? Just for a little while?"

"Oh, Stef. I didn't know, I wasn't sure. I don't have anything to offer you, my heart's confused as it is."

"You have yourself, you have this moment. Not for forever, just for now," he licked his lips, which looked dry as parchment. "Please, I need to know I'm still alive, that's there's something I can do besides killing. I can't run, I can't get away from it because of my stupid fucked up arm and the damn Defias in our woods and. . . and I want you so badly. Please? Please, Nightfrost, I'll do anything you want."

I silenced him with a kiss, exploring his mouth and tongue, the fresh springwater taste of him.

"I want a bed," I told him. "And I want you in it. I want to kiss away all the pain and fear and death and let you know I understand. I want to learn every inch of your body and what makes you cum and have you fall asleep exhausted in my arms and fall asleep with you and wake and fuck you all over again." I kissed his eyelids and cheek and mouth and lifted him out of the water, going hunting for towels. I don't know if he understood everything I said, but he understood enough.

It was warm; we just patted each other down, wrapped our towels around our waists and took our boots and our weapons. Then we skirted the long way to the guildhall, laughing together in the silent way of rogues, giddy as the first time I'd followed anyone to their room, stopping occasionally to taste each other's mouths and grope each other in promise. No one saw Stef and, because of Stef, no one saw me either.

We stopped inside the hall, caught our breaths just enough to lose them kissing again, then Stef led me upstairs.

The number of doors told me none of the upstairs rooms were large; Stef's maybe being twice as wide as the rest. He pulled me inside and shut the door, uncovering a mage light that revealed a desk and stool, a wardrobe, a messy pile of clothes, a mostly empty weapons rack, a shuttered window and a bed beneath it that took up most of the space between walls.

We kissed again and when we finally stopped there was nothing between us but air.

"I have . . . toys," he admitted. "And, I know I said I'd let you do anything, but please, don't tie me up."

"Don't worry," I told him. "I don't know if I could do that with someone who had asked me to do it. Especially not the first time I was with them."

He looked at his toes and blushed. "This is my first time."

"What? Ever?"

"No, I've had women or they've had me. But you're the first man I've ever dared ask."

That explained a lot. "Stef?" I kissed him again, gently, and almost chastely. "Are you sure?" I knew it wasn't a good time to think of asking, but at least I did remember to ask.

"I heard what you said to Richelle. And I'm sure you won't rape me and boast about it to everyone. I've given you lots of opportunities if you wanted me like that."

"Who hurt you, Stef?" I wasn't sure why I knew, maybe his odd wording, but I just knew.

I wasn't expecting an answer either, but he told me anyway. "Lesba's She-tigers. I was fourteen."

I'd heard of them. They had a reputation even among the Horde. They were distinctly not the way you wanted to be introduced to sex.

He continued, "They drugged us, and used us. They killed one of the other boys and then most of them left. Shaw was looking for something they had. He found the ones who'd fallen asleep with my wires on their throats. He stopped me before I did for myself." He lifted his head and, while I'd seen the fine scars on his throat, I hadn't known they'd been self-inflicted. "I've been with SI-7 ever since. I'm Shaw's choice when he needs one of them done. Part of his deal with me." His eyes were taking on a worrisome glaze.

"Stef?" He was starting to scare me.

He laughed, shakily, blinking the glaze away. "Assassins. You've lived with Bobby. You know we're not quite right. Please, Nightfrost, make it all go away."

I wasn't sure anyone could do that for him, short of Death. I wasn't quite sure that wasn't what he was really asking me for, either. It helped me settle my thoughts, keep a rein on the lust he'd awoken in me

"Thank you for telling me, Stef, I know that wasn't easy to admit. I'm going to take things slowly and try to let you control as much as possible. If it starts to hurt or I do something that scares you, tell me. Or give a good tug on my hair. "

"I want fucked 'til I can't think anymore," he said and kissed me again, hands tightening across my back, demanding. He moaned, but it wasn't just from want, I felt his body wince, his shoulder protesting.

"Gently, gently, Stef. You had a bad start with sex; I want to show you how good it can be. And I don't want to hurt your shoulder anymore." I started kissing his neck and backing him over to the bed. Apparently no one had ever touched him there before, except to cause pain, he melted against me with a startled gasp, so I just scooped him up and lay him in the bed. I stretched out beside him, rolled onto my side and slid a leg between his, recapturing his mouth, then returning to his ear before I eased a hand down his chest and belly to his groin and took him into my hand. I had to be careful to keep my weight off his injured shoulder, but it wasn't that difficult.

"You've had a hand job before?" He made a noise I took for yes, but might have been no. "Put your hand around mine, show me how you like it." He wasn't hesitant about doing that at all.

I let some of my attention drift back to his ear and neck, marking his throat with my lips and tongue and teeth, flicking my tongue around and into his ear. He bucked into our hands, the wetness of his precum giving way to a flood of seed. "Ahhhh!" he moaned, trying to keep quiet, so the rest of his team didn't hear their leader cumming.

I released his ear, shifted and captured the tip of him with my mouth. He gave a muffled scream and convulsed, draining himself totally as his body shuddered with the second, fuller release. I think I would have licked him clean, bitter precum mixed with lemon, but he shook under my tongue, and laced his messy fingers through my hair and pulled. He was panting, but managed to gasp, "Nightfrost, please, its too much."

"I've stopped," I told him. "I won't touch you until you ask me."

"Okay," he said shakily, still twitching occasionally.

I distracted myself by cleaning my hand, watching his eyelids flutter as his exhaustion caught up with him.

Knowing I had to keep my promise not to touch him until he gave me permission, I turned my attention to giving myself a bit of release. His hair in the dimness of the room was just enough like Firesworn's to let me pretend it was my cropped-eared friend sleeping there.

But when I'd brought myself over the edge, it was Stef's name I whispered.

Please review. Let me know if you'd like more, just remember this is an alternate to what I'm doing in Rogue Magick. Stef doesn't get the boy there. Then again, his encounter with Lesba's She-Tigers was in the guise of avenging a friend's death in the 'normal' timeline. - R. macDhai