Disclaimer: I don't own World of Warcraft, Blizzard entertainment or any of the things affiliated with it/them. I'm just manipulating the world they have created to my own thoughts.
This story contains male on male sex, and is graphic. So, if you do not like this stuff, nor do you wish to view such material, I suggest you leave now. :)
--NEW!!--
-As of 8/25/08, I have revised this story and will be adding later chapters, filling in the random information and storyline that this little smut-pot is filled with!-
-Rejoyce readers, for I shall be writing once more!!-
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The warm summer breeze crossed through the golden trees, weaving between the limbs and stirring the leaves from their sedentary branches. It crossed over the Dead Scar, vainly trying to breathe new life to the scarred land, and it passed over the guards that silently patrolled in the night. The breeze promptly dropped off a cliff and rushed across a small field, causing the foraging critters to perk their heads. It rushed over a small village and into the houses, caressing the inhabitants with a warm touch. It rolled out and off another cliff, sweeping across yet another field, before slowly coming to a stop near a lone house that overlooked the North Sea. The breeze reached just beyond the house, then faltered. The last thing it touched was a young Sindorei male, sitting on top a deck that intricately snaked its way around the dwelling. The Sindorei wasn't much past the age of maturity, but old enough to be accepted by Thalassian society as an adult. He was wearing an outfit of tight-fitting black leather, and on his hip rested an elegantly decorated scabbard which housed an equally stunning dagger.
Aryen smiled as the breeze rustled through his long, dark red hair, and he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. It wasn't long past twilight, and the moon was just rising over the eastern horizon, its pale rays reflecting off of Eversong's trees. Aryen sat on the edge of the deck, his legs dangling in the empty space below, and he gazed off into the sea, lost in thought. It was only a few short years after the Scourge had attacked Quel'Thalas, and many of the Elves had fled into the forests around Silvermoon. Aryen's parents were one of the few families that had survived the initial attack, fleeing to their home on the outskirts of Eversong. However, once Silvermoon fell, the undead began to comb the forests and outlying areas of Quel'thalas. Aryen's father, a skilled Magister, had long since suspected such an attack. He kept in his possession a small piece of rock from one of the Runestones guarding the southern borders of Quel'thalas. Aryen's father placed the stone ontop the house and invoked it's residual powers, which were strong enough to hold off and deter the prowling undead for some time. Aryen and his family lived in quiet fear, constantly vigilant and always in hiding. It wasn't until the power of the stone had faded some months later that Aryen lost almost all of his family.
It was late one night when Aryen woke to a shrill scream coming from the first floor of the isolated house. He woke his sister, Ioria, and the two of them ran down the stairs in time to see several undead mercilessly slaughtering their own mother in the entryway to the home. Before the creatures had time to turn their gaze to the small children watching from the shadows, a blast of fire barged through the doorway behind the undead, incinerating their bones.
Aryen's father came running into the house, holding two books and a small knapsack. He bounded up the stairs and grabbed his two children and held them tight in his warm embrace.
"Aryen, Ioria, I want you to listen carefully. Take these two books and this backpack, and flee. Run far into the woods. Don't stop running for anything, and take great caution in your silence. Please, be strong. The magics that concealed this home have broken, and there is little time to loose…."
Aryen and Ioria clung to their father in tears, scared and unafraid and confused at what was going on. In the distance, guttural screams and scraping noises could be heard, vanishing and reappearing, ever closer to the home.
"Please," Aryen's father pleaded, "You must be strong. Go now children, and take great care."
That was the last time Aryen ever saw Tael Sunfield, his own father. The last image of his father, frozen forever in his mind, was seen from the safety of darkness and the cover of the night. As several undead Scourge crept out from the forests surrounding the house, Aryen's father walked out to meet them, fire in his eyes and holding a staff that was ablaze. He stood there, and incinerated each creature, one by one, until his magic faltered and he was unable to defend himself….
Aryen let out a deep suspiration and pushed himself back from the ledge a bit, the stood up. He held deep and scarred memories of this place, but for some reason he could never abandon it. He glared out over the trees and forest surrounding the house, and listened to the water lapping up against the not-too-distant shore. He turned on his heel and walked across the balcony to a door, opened it and went inside. The room was large and circular, with a high ceiling from which hung blood-red tapestries and streamers. The floor was covered in an elegant red and gold embroidered rug in the typical Thalassian style, and off to one side was an alcove which contained a large bed. In the center of the room was a large table, and on the opposite wall from the bed was a fireplace. Scattered amongst the room was a few pieces of random furniture; two chairs near the fireplace, a larger couch near the bed, wooden stools under the table, a bookcase, a dresser. Bear the fireplace was a spiral staircase that descended to the first floor. Aryen smiled. Home sweet home.
Occupying one of the couches was another Sindorei clad in light mail armor and sporting the logo of the newly formed Blood Knights. He was reading a book he had pulled from Aryen's library, and he didn't seem to notice that Aryen had come back inside. Aryen smiled to himself and with a soft snap of his fingers and a faint hiss, Aryen vanished into thin air. He slowly shuffled towards the couch, his stealth aided by the thick plush carpets decorating the room. He carefully crept forward, and when he was inches from the couch, he readied himself to jump, but was halted by the man's voice.
"Aryen, please. I know you came inside moments ago, and I know you're trying to get the jump on me, literally, so cut the crap."
Aryen frowned. With a loud snap of his fingers and another hissing sound, he shimmered back into view, and walked around the couch to face the man sitting on it.
"You know Rayldar, I don't get how you're the only person who can see through my spell when I'm sneaking up on them...oh knock that shitty grin off your face."
Aryen grabbed an apple off the nearby table and threw it at Rayldar, who ducked, grinning widely.
"Now now, let's not be violent. It's not my fault your years of schooling and training in the art of stealth and invisibility is wasted on me assassin."
Aryen had no reply, and he simply turned around with a grunt of displeasure and walked over to the bed. He sat down and took off his boots, tossing them haphazardly to the side with a sigh. As he sat there massaging his feet, Rayldar rose from the chair and placed the book back on the shelf, his armor chinking lightly. Aryen looked up and shook his head.
"I don't know why you wear that armor all the time. It's gotta be heavy. Besides, it's unnecessary. Seriously Rayldar, do you honestly think that you're going to need it in my house?"
Rayldar smiled as he walked over to the bed and sat down next to Aryen.
"No. But I like wearing it. Hauling the extra weight around all the time will eventually build muscle. What about you Aryen? Why do you wear such tight fitting leather? Do you seriously think that it..." He eyed Aryen up and down, grinning devilishly, "...accentuates your features as much as your ego would like it too?"
Aryen laughed.
"Actually...I do. And you know that I look dead fucking sexy in it."
Rayldar couldn't help but grin widely.
"Indeed you do..."
Rayldar leaned over and slid an armored hand around the backside of Aryen, pulling him closer. With his other hand he pushed Aryen down onto the bed and climbed ontop of him, straddling him. Aryen pushed and grunted back, but the combined weight of Rayldar and his armor was too much to move.
Rayldar smiled and leaned in and planted a warm, loving kiss on Aryen's lips, and Aryen returned the gesture.
The whole point of Aryen venturing out to his parents house was because of his romantic engagement with Rayldar. Though the Sindorei were no neophytes when it came to living the lives of a libertine society, lately the entirely of Quel'Thalas had become extremely intolerant of any homosexual behavior. It's not that they were widely accepting of it from the start, but with the Elven population wearing so thin, any attempts to not procreate were viewed with disgust. The city had several bands of thugs who patrolled for such actions, often attacking more innocent people that ones who were truly in a same-sex relationship. These roaming gangs also attacked those who were deemed "un-patriotic" by not following Kael'thas's plan to move the Sindorei population to the Outlands. Aryen disagreed with this, because the Outlands were the shattered remains of a once-beautiful planet that was brought to its knees and crushed. It was pointless to move to a dying world in his opinion. Though the magistrate did nothing to really stop these self-righteous gangs, they did express their discontent with them. Aryen often sought asylum in his parents' old home during frequent political storms in Silvermoon, because he was both guilty of non-procreation and disliking Kael'thas's plans. Aryen had met Rayldar one night while he was sneaking around Silvermoon, testing out the full extent of his ability to become invisible . One of the groups of thugs had taken Rayldar and tied him to one of the statues in Silvermoon, and was proceeding to beat him violently. Aryen immediately enshrouded himself with an invisibility spell, and he crept up to the gang. When he found that they were torturing Rayldar for being a homosexual, Aryen drew his dagger and slit the throat of the gang's leader. The gang quickly took off running, and Aryen untied Rayldar while he had the chance. Rayldar was barely conscious, and Aryen took him to his parents house, and kept him there until things died down. There Aryen learned the accusations against Rayldar were true, and the two developed a close friendship. Aryen too, harbored a romantic interest for other men, and the two slowly grew together and into something more. They frequently met at the house whenever they could so that they could spend time together without the trouble of doing it in Silvermoon city.
Aryen managed to slide out from under Rayldar and took off his leather jacket and vest and tossed them aside, revealing a pale, white silk shirt. He got up and walked over to a small cabinet near the fireplace, and pulled out a glass and a wine bottle. As he poured himself a glass of the Pinot Noir, Rayldar asked for one too, and Aryen poured a second glass and took both back to the bed. Aryen sat down on the edge of the bed next to Rayldar and gently leaned against him.
"It's so peaceful out here. It's a shame that I like the city life more though."
Rayldar took a sip of his wine.
"Yeah, but with the city the way it is, it's not like...well...it's not like we could enjoy ourselves there you know?"
Aryen nodded. It wasn't the first time they had this conversation.
"Indeed. Mmm. This wine is a bit strong isn't it? Then again...it's been in here as long as this house has stood..."
Aryen took another sip of his wine as a cold-hand slid up the back of his shirt and came to rest on his back. Aryen shivered in pleasure as the touch of the other man's gauntlets gently scraped along his back.
"You know Aryen, I'm so glad I met you. I'm almost happy those ragtag Elves had tied me to that statue long ago, or I would never have met you."
Rayldar planted a kiss on Aryen's cheek, and Aryen blushed slightly, his tanned reddish skin turning darker. He turned and looked deep into Rayldar's eyes. He was slightly smaller than Aryen, and his hair was platinum blonde and short, which was a stark contrast to Aryen's long and crimson locks. He was paler then Aryen too, but slightly more muscular, however his outfit hid it.
Aryen smiled and finished off his glass of wine, but as he went to stand up, a hand grabbed his belt and whipped him around. Aryen lost his balance and fell back onto the bed, his wine glass falling on the carpeted floor with a muffled chink. Rayldar pulled Aryen on top of him, and let his own wine glass roll onto the floor as well. He smiled.
"Rayl, your armor is ice-cold."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"I suggest we warm it up."
Aryen couldn't help but smile at Rayldar.
Rayldar laughed. He wrapped his arms around Aryen's back and pulled Aryen into him, nuzzling his neck.
"I thought you'd say that."
Taking the cue, Rayldar let Aryen roll off of him and the two Elves sat up.
Aryen slid off the bed and walked around the perimeter of the room, blowing out all the mounted, and floating, candles that provided the ambient light. Rayldar on the other hand took the time to undo his mail chest plate and pants, dropping them to the ground with several chinks and clangs. Aryen descended the sitars to the first floor of the house and walked across the open kitchen and dining area. He locked the front door and closed the window shutters, as well as the windows, and locked those too. Even today, with the Amani trolls pushed so far to the south and east, and the Scourge held at bay in the lower regions of Quel'Thalas, one could never be too careful of the wandering patrols that were rumored to float around Eversong. Aryen put out the few lights that lit the Kitchen and Dining area, pausing to look at a portrait of him and his family when he was younger before ascending the stairs. He let his eyes wander around the room, around the doorframe. It felt weird to be back in his home. It always did. Somehow, the Elf managed to cope with the loss of his family, and always found reasons to move forward.
When he climbed back up to the second floor, he found Rayldar already under the bed covers, a lone candle on the nightstand illuminating the scene. Aryen gave him a smile and closed all the windows,
and their respective shutters, on the second floor except for the one above the bed headboard. Aryen turned to face Rayldar. The platinum blonde was laying on his side, head propped up by one arm. The scene was very inviting. Aryen unbuttoned his shirt and dropped his pants, and in one fluid movement, tossed up the bed covers and slid under them. He blew out the candle on the nightstand; leaving the two in almost total darkness, save for the moonlight filtering in from above their heads. Before Aryen could settle, Rayldar had his arms wrapped around the red headed man.
"So...what do you want to do tonight?"
Aryen took a long, hard stare into the other man's eyes. Rayldar's faintly glowing green orb's reflected a mix of passion and pure lust, and the man's touch was warm and inviting. It had been a long time since they last lay in bed with each other, and both knew that their meager and pathetic conversation was a pathetic attempt to avoid the fact that both were hungry for sex. Aryen leaned in and gave Rayldar a deep, affectionate kiss.
"Whatever our hearts desire."
With that line, both men hesitated for a moment, staring into the other's eyes. They leaned into each other, and brought their lips together for a brief moment.
That was all it took.
They dropped their civility and respective facades; they let their emotions and sexual needs overcome themselves. Hungrily and passionately they began to kiss, pausing only for a second here or there to take a breath and then continued. Rayldar rolled over on his back and Aryen slowly slid on top of him. Aryen was usually on top anyway, although it was Rayldar who made the first moves.
Aryen slid one hand under Rayldar's back, and his other found Rayldar's hand, intertwining their fingers. Rayldar wrapped his arm around Aryen, and the two lay in their embrace, kissing and nuzzling each other for what seemed like an eternity. Their hands explored the other's body, running over every muscle and gliding over every patch of skin; their tounges explored the other's mouth, polishing every tooth and tasting every drop of the other's saliva. They breathed in the scent of each other, drunk off of each man's individual musk.
Soon however, their foreplay began to yield results, as there were now two men with two growing erections in one bed. They ground their hips into each other, bucking and grinding, promoting their body's response to the physical pleasure they were both feeling. It wasn't long before both of them were rock-hard. Aryen took the initiative to break from their kissing, and he leaned back on his knees. Sliding under the covers, he planted a trail of kisses down Rayldar's chin and neck, down his chest and to his navel. He took Rayldar's member in his own hand, and with one finger gave it a light stroke from base to tip. Rayldar gave a little squirm and a light moan. Aryen smiled, not that Rayldar could see.
Aryen licked the top of the head, circling the tip a few times with his tounge before engulfing most of Rayldar's length. Rayldar exhaled at the sensation, and he stretched out his legs and arms unconsciously as his body responded to the stimulation. Aryen reached up and ran his hands across the blonde's chest, massaging it and dragging his fingers across it. His tantalizing touch was enough to coax a low moan out of Rayldar. Aryen continued to gently suck Rayldar, massaging his manhood with his tounge and gently moving up and down the shaft. Rayldar gave out another moan of appreciation, and Aryen moved both of his hands back down. He slid one up and under Rayldar's backside, and gently tickled the scrotum and perennial area below. Rayldar did all that he could to try to prevent several loud moans and groans from escaping his lips.
It was several minutes before Rayldar's body began to shift and writhe under Aryen, and he knew Rayldar was close to climax. He began to suck a bit harder, massage a bit faster, to bring Rayldar there. Rayldar let out a series of low moans followed by a sharp gasp.
"Ung...Ar...Aryen..."
Aryen took Rayldar's warning and pulled back a bit. With a few final strokes from Aryen's hand and a loud moan of ecstasy, Rayldar's back arched, and he spilled his seed into Aryen's mouth. When he was done, he fell back on the bed, breathing sharply. Aryen slowly moved back up to Rayldar, planting semen-laced kisses from Rayldar's navel up to his neck. He swallowed what was left in his mouth, and gave Rayldar another series of deep kisses.
"I love you," he said breathily, "and nothing will ever change that."
Aryen paused for a moment to look Rayldar in the eyes. It was very rare for the two of them to confess their love for one another, both holding "those three words" in the highest regard.
"I love you too Rayldar..."
For the two of them, the scene was perfect bliss. Rayldar was laying in his afterglow, the man of his dreams lying on top of him, captured in his warm embrace. For Aryen, it was the same; being held by the man he loved and expressing their love with the most physical pleasure one could perform for their partner. Aryen couldn't help but smile warmly, faint green eyes looking into faint green eyes, both their passion mirrored in each other's faces.
Rayldar knew what was coming next. He had already came, and it was Aryen's turn. Rayldar knew what they were going to do as well, for they switched each time they met. He leaned up a bit and planted his lips on Aryen's.
"Ready?"
"Only if you want to."
"I do Aryen. More than anything in the world. You know that as well as I do."
With a second kiss, Rayldar slid down on the bed a bit, and rolled over with his back to Aryen. Aryen leaned up on his hands and slid above Rayldar, his member positioned outside Rayldar's opening. Aryen leaned over and opened a small drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a small vial of a clear viscous liquid. When experimenting with the poisons he laced his weapons with, he discovered that with the right blend of Silverleaf, Mountain Silversage, rare Wintersbite and boiled sap from the husks of Treants, an oily liquid that wasn't too sticky and didn't dry out was produced. Aryen realized that this could be used during his lovemaking sessions with Rayldar, to enhance their pleasure and ease some of the pain.
Aryen took the cork off the vial and dipped his fingers in it, rubbing it both on his manhood and his fingers. He re-corked the vial and placed it back into the drawer, and with his oiled fingers, began to apply the substance to Rayldar's opening. Aryen carefully slid a finger inside Rayldar, and swirled it around, spreading what lubricant he could on the inside. Rayldar let out a series of grunts and groans as Aryen prodded and poked around inside of him. Aryen leaned down and kissed his lover on the neck, a sign of reassurance, and slipped a second digit inside the Sindorei, rubbing the oil on the inside of the Elf. After a moment, he pulled both fingers out.
"Rayl…you ready?"
Rayldar gave a silent nod.
"Yes. Let's just hope this little…salve of yours works as good as we both hope…"
Rayldar braced himself for what was going to happen next. Aryen placed the tip of his member at Rayldar's opening, and slowly inserted it. Rayldar winced in pain for the first few seconds, and then relaxed his muscles, inviting Aryen into him. Once Aryen was all the way in, he bent down and clenched Rayldar, wrapping his arms around his chest.
With that, Aryen began to slowly thrust in an out of Rayldar, who gave a small grunt with each push, and a sharp intake of breath with each pull. Aryen continued to thrust in an out, a little bit faster until he reached an optimum rhythm for the both of them. It wasn't long before Aryen began to feel the first signs of his own climax, and he thrusted a bit deeper to reach that point. Rayldar tensed his muscles with Aryen's rhythm in an attempt to help him out.
Aryen couldn't help but moan.
"Ungh…I….unnnnngh…love it when….unnngh….you do…ungh… that…."
With a final grunt, Aryen reach his climax, and with a series of low moans and ragged breaths, he came inside Rayldar. Rayldar let out a breath of air as he felt the warm liquid slide into him. When Aryen was finished, he gently pulled out of Rayldar, and he looked down.
There was a tiny amount of blood on himself, but not much. The oil had worked well. Rayldar broke from Aryen's embrace and flipped himself back over, staring up at the red-haired man. Rayldar was smiling weakly at him, a tear streaming from his eye.
"You know Aryen, every time we meet...every time we do this...it feels like the first time. This intimacy, this passion...it just...it j-just..."
Rayldar's voice faltered at the sight of Aryen over top him, his long red hair draping over his shoulders and onto him own muscular chest, sweat dripping from the both of them. Rayldar began to cry. Aryen leaned down and placed a hand behind Rayldar's head, and gave him a warm kiss, before rolling off of Rayldar and lying next to him. Aryen took Rayldar into his own arms, and held him tightly while his tears fell across Aryen's shoulder.
"Rayl...I feel the same way. This love we have for each other...this passion. I hope we never lose it. Never."
The two lay there, moonlight filtering in from the window above them, caught in each other's loving embrace. After a while they both drifted off to sleep, content and happy to be with the other man. The warm summer breeze blew through the window, caressing the lovers, and bringing the sweet lullaby of a Nightingale with it.
The two couldn't have been happier.
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Author's note: A bit revised, more detail in some places, ugly details removed from others. General grammar errors fixed, so on and so on…..
Look for a continuation!
