Originally published on aff 2009-04-19

"Your son is getting married."

He looked up at the slight creature standing across the room from him, a folded parchment and envelope in his thin hands. He looked away, grumbling. "I don't give a damn."

"You do so give a damn." The blood elf replied, snapping the parchment a few times. "You wouldn't have torn the envelope so hurriedly if you didn't care."

"Maybe I just wanted to see if he'd finally gotten over his obsession for that mage bitch."

The elf glowered. "Her name is Cassidia."

"I don't give a damn what her name is."

"Magek, he's your only kid."

The orc snarled and whirled to face the elf. "I don't give a shit! His bitch of a mother took him away to that blasted land of yours! He's no more my son than… than… He's not my son."

Kyr rubbed his face and glowered at the orc he called friend and lover. "You could at least send him a reply. He wants you to be there."

"I don't give a shit what he wants. The bastard's probably as fel obsessed as the rest of that group." Magek slammed his fist against the table and glowered at Kyr. "Burn the damn thing."

"You do it. Then you can explain to Mardruk why his own father wouldn't come to his own wedding."

"I'm not explaining anything to that green-skinned bastard."

Kyr crossed the room far more quickly than Magek would have figured him capable. The blood elf's hand drew back and shot forward, striking across the orc's face. The slap echoed hard and Magek felt the bruise forming on his cheek. Kyr's hand was bleeding, cut on one of Magek's tusks. Still the blood elf didn't stop there, that same bloody hand curling into a fist and shooting forward, aiming for an eye. Magek sidestepped, avoiding the blow and grabbing that wrist, turning Kyr around in a complete circle and pinning him against the table.

"Fighting me," Magek growled lowly, "is a bad idea. You never win."

Kyr grinned. "I don't have to win, orc bastard. Just get you right where I want you." It took Magek a moment too long to realize what Kyr meant. The elf's leg shot up and back, right into the orc's groin. Magek let go of the hunter and fell back, howling. Kyr waved the parchment in front of Magek's face then hurriedly retreated as the warrior got to his feet and charged.

Against a good three hundred pounds of furious muscle, Kyr would've been better off finding high ground or just disappearing, but the elf stood his ground and sidestepped the charge, lashing out with his foot to catch Magek in the ass. The added momentum send the angry warrior into the wall, knocking over several lamps that crashed onto the floor. Growling a dire warning, Magek roared and thundered toward Kyr. Since he was expecting the lunge, the blood elf easily avoided it, but he misinterpreted Magek's body language. As the elf dodged, the orc lashed out with a heavy fist and caught the elf in the ribs along the left side of his body, flinging the lighter, thinner body across the room. Kyr hit the wall and slid down, dazed. He tasted blood and surmised he'd bitten his tongue in his landing. His eyes narrowed and as Magek charged again, Kyr spit blood into his eyes and rammed his knee into the orc's groin again.

Though he was blinded by the pain, Magek grabbed hold of Kyr and dragged the elf forward. He didn't give the hunter a chance to attack as he fisted a hand in the black and fire of Kyr's hair, pulling the elf's head back with enough force to break his skinny neck. Kyr grit his teeth and squirmed, but with his head tugged back so far and his body oddly contorted against the wall and Magek's body, he couldn't move. It was all he could do to keep enough space between that hard body and his own with his hands so he could still fucking breathe. Magek stared down at him, eyes bright with rage, his chest heaving against Kyr's hands. They were a bloody, sore mess, and Kyr groped for the parchment that had gotten ripped in their fight. Magek snarled and tore the wedding invitation from Kyr's hands before kissing him roughly. Kyr squirmed against Magek and broke the kiss.

"The invitation…" He protested.

Magek growled. "I told you. I'm not saying anything to that bastard son of mine."

Kyr opened his mouth to continue his protest but Magek silenced him with something that most definitely wasn't a kiss. There was too much tongue and teeth and it left Kyr breathless and with swollen lips. Magek dragged Kyr by his hair up to the table that had been knocked over and righted it before tossing the elf onto it, stomach first. Muttering about insufferable bastard elves and insufferable bastard sons and insufferable bastard weddings as he ripped the elf's last (probably) pair of pants off his thin legs.

Kyr made a protest of a gasp and growl and kicked at Magek only to have his ankle grabbed and tied with a strip of his pants to the other ankle. Then, Magek took those shredded pants and tied each end to the table, spreading Kyr's legs apart. Kyr snarled. "Bastard! Why do you always have to do that!?"

"Because you hate it." Magek replied. He rubbed his thumb against the pucker between Kyr's legs. "And maybe I like seeing you without pants."

"Tied up in my damn pants," Kyr grumbled. He shivered as something cool touched that personal flesh and felt goosebumps break out on his skin. "What the hell are you using?"

"Ice."

"Oh." A pause. "What!? Ice? Are you fucking insane?"

"Maybe." Magek pushed the cube into the hot passage of his lover's body, following it with its twin. Kyr writhed and cried out but he couldn't get free, not with Magek pinning him against the table and his legs held immobile by his own fucking pants.

Kyr snarled. "I'll make you a deal."

"Oh?" Magek asked, pushing one thick finger into that tight passage, feeling the melting cubes. Kyr winced and squirmed.

"Yeah." The blood elf shivered. "Since you're gonna fuck me anyway, the deal is this. You have to write a letter back to Mardruk saying you're not going to show up to his wedding. If you don't write the letter by the day after tomorrow, you have to go."

Magek growled. "Deal." He shoved his finger deeper into the elf and pulled it out to join it with another, pushing the ice cubes deeper into the hunter's hot body and stretching that tight passage.

Kyr cried out and squirmed, nails scoring the table beneath him as he tried to deny the feelings rushing up his spine but he was hard, terribly hard. And wanting. He squirmed and writhed and yelled, and Magek kept drilling his fingers into Kyr's body. The elf was reduced to cursing and Magek rumbled in what passed for his laugh. The elf was left empty soon enough.

"Mags, you fucking bastard!" Kyr yelled. "Don't you dare leave me here! Mags! Dammit, don't you dare!"

"Sorry." Magek grinned. "I have a letter to write."

"MAGS YOU FUCKING BASTARD I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"Get free first."

Kyr managed to get free of his ruined pants within two hours and attacked Magek with the rage of a horny, angry blood elf.

Magek never did get around to writing that letter.

They arrived in Durotar a day before the wedding, and Magek found himself standing before his son. Mardruk was watching him warily, just like he would a predator, the boy's violet eyes carefully kept blank. Magek grumbled something, a bunch of curses more than likely, but Mardruk said nothing other than, "I'm glad you're here."

Magek didn't know what to say to that.

And as he stood there among the crowd that had been invited to the wedding of Mardruk and Cassidia, he stared at the mage-bitch and had to admit she looked stunning in that white dress. He left before the reception was held and dragged Kyr back to Nagrand with him. They argued the entire time, exchanged blows and words, and broke more furniture in a number of exercises that didn't necessarily involve large things in tiny holes.

Magek was patrolling when he saw his son again, three years later. Kyr was leading the group, and Mardruk was smiling, his wife right behind him, holding onto a tiny hand. Magek drew himself up and stared. Mardruk stepped up to his father and shifted to allow the old orc to see the human woman and the little boy who held her hand.

"What the hell is this?" Magek growled.

"This," Mardruk said smugly, "is my son, Maegk."

Magek stared.

Then he cursed.