The greenish eternal twilight of Shadowmoon Valley was not easy to wake up to, or more precisely, was not easy to stay woken up to. Especially when one was warm, and being held securely by another person who happened to be expertly massaging the kinks out of one's back.
Lor'themar groaned and shifted closer to Illidan, enjoying the feel of tense muscle being gently relaxed.
"How much longer do you think this will last?" he grumbled, his question breaking off into a breathy moan as a particularly sore spot was worked on.
"I can't say for sure," Illidan replied, absentmindedly tracing his claws over the now very sensitive stretch of skin between Lor'themar's wings. Absently Lor'themar noticed Illidan had stopped talking, but the sensation of delicate claw tips sent his eyes rolling back in his head as he mouthed at Illidan's collarbones to keep from keening.
His attempt seemed to have failed, however, because Illidan flipped them, gently supporting him and keeping his delicate wings from being crushed by their combined weight, but still looming over Lor'themar.
"As I was saying," Illidan began again, the playful tone of his voice belying his supposed offense at being interrupted, and Lor'themar couldn't resist kissing him, "when your wings came in…" Lor'themar kissed him again, but Illidan valiantly carried on, "it takes time for the muscles of your back to…" another kiss, and finally Illidan seemed to get the idea.