Warnings: Yaoi, necrophilia(well if you want to be technical about it), violence, angst, sex, language, and love. Lot's and lot's of yaoi love.
Rated: M
Disclaimer: me nor Kaitsuka own World of Warcraft or any other affiliate associated with Blizzard. This is fanfiction. The plot is all we own. I'm sorry you can't sue us, we're broke college students.
II.
That fateful night was the first of many meetings between Ievam and Itamar. After almost getting caught by the patrol in Tirisfal several times, Ievam thought it would be a good idea to start meeting somewhere else. After arguing and drawing out maps in the dirt, they came to the conclusion of meeting in Southshore. Sure it was an Alliance town, but Ievam was a rogue and he could sneak in. The town was riddled with abandoned buildings and houses. There was one house in particular that they always met in and it was the one on the outskirts away from almost everyone else. One morning when Ievam woke up in the makeshift bed they made, he saw Itamar standing in front of a window just looking out. Ievam wasn't much of a morning person, but he grew accustomed to waking up in Itamar's arms when they'd spend nights together. The rogue had developed feelings for the paladin during the course of their meetings and felt almost hurt that the Draenei wasn't in bed this morning. He sat up and ran his fingers through his mohawk.
"What's wrong?" he asked sleepily.
Itamar didn't turn around from the window, but he acknowledged Ievam's question. "I need to tell you something..." He said, slowly turning around and walking over to sit on the bed next to Ievam. He was looking at the floor, trying to gather his words. Itamar looked up at Ievam, watching him for a moment before speaking again.
"I've been called to go fight the Scourge in Northrend...I leave tomorrow." He said carefully, watching Ievam for a reaction.
Ievam just stared at Itamar. He knew all too well about the Scourge and what it meant for those who went to fight. Most never returned. His eyes quickly darted to the comforter and remained there.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked quietly. 'I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry,' he kept telling himself despite the fact he felt tears start to prick his eyes.
Itamar moved forward and pulled Ievam's body against his own in a tight hug.
"I got the summons a few days ago...I didn't know they were sending me when we last met." He said lowly, gently stroking Ievam's back. He knew what was probably going to happen, but his duty was to follow his orders. He just wished they would've let him know sooner.
Ievam practically clung onto Itamar when he held him. The tears he fought so hard to contain flowed freely and quiet sobs escaped his lips. He didn't want him to go. He quickly clamped a hand over his mouth to quiet his sobs. He didn't want Itamar to see or hear him cry. He turned his head to the side and rested it against his chest as he silently cried. When he stifled his sobs enough, he whispered, "Don't go. Stay for me. I...I love you."
Seeing Ievam cry was heartbreaking for Itamar. He hadn't expected a confession of love. His own eyes became watery as he hugged Ievam tighter.
"I wish I could...I truly do. I would willingly go to the Nether and back if it meant staying here with you, but I can't disobey..." Itamar nuzzled against Ievam, still holding him tightly.
He moved a hand to Ievam's chin to make him look up. Itamar looked directly into his eyes, fierce determination in his voice as he spoke.
"I swear to you, I'll return no matter what. I'll come back to you..."
Ievam sniffled and nodded his head slowly. He pulled back and looked down at his hand. He had a silver skull ring on his thumb. He took it off and gave it to Itamar.
"Take this. I want you to have it," he said quietly and looked up at him. This was the worst possible kind of pain for him. Itamar had brought back some of his humanity. Now he was doomed to go fight the Scourge. Ievam slipped the ring on one of Itamar's fingers and pulled him close. He kissed him and just held him.
They sat there for a long while. The day had just begun, but it was far too short a time to remain together...
The morning finally arrived for Itamar to leave. He had remained with Ievam the entire day before. He was up before the sun, strapping on his armor as quietly as he could, preparing his things for transport, making sure everything was there. He looked over to the bed, knowing Ievam was watching him. Walking over, Itamar leaned down to kiss his lover one last time before he left. The soft glow of his eyes illuminated Ievam's face, giving him a final image to keep in his mind. Turning silently, Itamar picked up his things. He exited the small house, stopping near the road to give it one last glance before mounting his charger and riding to the docks.
Ievam just laid there after his lover kissed him goodbye. He didn't want to move. He'd stay in that house until he returned if he could. The day before ended way too soon for him to care for. He rubbed absently at his thumb from where that ring used to be. A tear streamed down his face and he quickly wiped it away. He felt like a part of him was missing now. He slowly sat up in the bed and pulled his knees to his chest. He rested his head on his knees and started crying again. This was going to be a very long, lonely time for the rogue and he knew it.
*X*X*X*
It had taken weeks to get to Northrend, but the day of siege was upon them. Horde and Alliance alike were storming the shores of Northrend for the first time, their respective leaders right alongside their men. The armies of Azeroth were met with the largest Scourge army ever seen, amassed by the command of the Lich King, the waves of undead covered the landscape. Snow and ice beat mercilessly at the armies, taking no pity on living or dead. There was no pause, simply a rush of bodies against each other. The battle had begun as soon as the first living being had appeared on the battlefield. The battle was complete chaos, every man was fighting for his life against the innumerable undead, many fell, and many more would fall.
Itamar was holding his own against the masses of ghouls and skeletal warriors, using every ounce of strength to beat them back alongside his allies. By chance, he spied the horde leader, Thrall himself, fighting the scourge alongside his men. A battle horn sounded. Looking up in horror, Itamar saw a huge frost wyrm flying low over the field of battle, headed strait for Thrall. In a split-second decision, he cast his last spell. Thrall was shielded as Itamar faced the wyrm before him. The massive dragon let loose a blast of blue frostfire...and all went black...
*X*X*X*
Ievam woke with a jerk that very same night. His heart ached more than usual. He placed a hand over his bare chest and rubbed at it some while he stood up. He stayed in an almost comatose state since Itamar left to go fight in Northrend. He never went anywhere or did anything. He just stayed in his room he rented in Undercity. The house he and Itamar would stay in had been ransacked and taken over by some riffraff. Normally he would sneak in there and kill the nuisance in their sleep, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to do much of anything, just stay in bed.
He didn't sleep for the rest of that night. In fact, he just sat on the bed and stared at the blank wall across form him, thinking. When he heard the general populace commence outside, he sighed and kept rubbing his chest. Something was wrong somewhere. 'No, it can't be that,' he thought to himself. When he heard a strange commotion outside, he came out of his room and walked out in the canal to see what the fuss was about. He grabbed a flyer that was being passed around and dropped it with widened eyes. 'Alliance Draenei sacrificed himself to save Thrall,' it read. His suspicions were true. The very thing he feared was true. The very feeling in his chest, this horrible feeling of dread and agony was the thing he tried to keep himself from thinking of. He ran back to his room as fast as he could and locked the door behind himself. He slid down into a far corner of the room and started crying again, telling himself that it must be someone else even though in his heart he knew it was his love.
*X*X*X*
Silence...
Darkness...
Cold...
A sudden searing hot pain ripped through his mind, jolting him to the present. His body spasmed, jolting to life. He breathed deep, choking on the frigid air. He saw dark figures all around him. Who were they? Where was he? Who...was he?
The figures spoke something amongst themselves and he was picked up from the cold ground and dressed quickly. His ears rung from whatever had happened to make him 'wake up'. The only words he heard were '...to the master.' He was then led toward a balcony where a dark figure stood looking off into the distance, an angelic being hovering on either side of him...
The rule of the Lich King was not kind and gentle. Oh no. He was a ruthless ruler with many subordinates that he 'lovingly' called his Death Knights. These were usually the fallen warriors of trying to fight off the Scourge he resurrected. They were to do whatever he commanded, whenever he commanded it. They could not disobey him. Even with his carnal desires still intact, they could not deny him. Many had fallen victim to his twisted sense of pleasure one too many times.
After the battle of Light's Chapel, the Death Knights were set free, now allied with the other forces fighting against the Scourge. Though still hated by most, and mistrusted by their new allies, they were accepted into both Horde and Alliance.
A black figure rode along the dusty road to Orgrimmar. His furred, black armor a stark contrast to the red clay of Durotar. The duels usually going on in front of the gates came to a standstill as the rider approached the maw of Orgrimmar's southern entrance. Multiple guards ran up to see if they needed to defend their capital against a foe from the opposite faction, but they all stopped. The rider asked something in Orcish to one of the guards, the astonished Orc pointed inside the city and replied in the same language. The dark rider continued into the city.
Upon reaching the Valley of Strength, he dismounted his horse, hooves kicking up a slight amount of dust. He stepped confidently into the council chambers of the Warchief, stopping at the foot of the stairs before the chief's throne. The entire room became chilled as he entered, sending a shiver down the spines of the council members.
He kneeled and addressed the Warchief in perfect Orcish, his deep voice echoed by the dark magic that resurrected him.
"Great Warchief Thrall, I stand before you to ask simply for acceptance into the Horde." The rider looked up.
...it was Itamar.
Thrall looked down at the Death Knight, and stood before him.
"You look familiar to me. Stand so that I may see your face," he stated in his low rumble of a voice in Orcish. Once he saw the facial features of what was left of this Draenei, he nodded his approval.
"Yes I remember you. You were the Draenei that saved my life that day. I never got to thank you for it," Thrall stated and then added, "I fully accept you into the Horde. What is your name?"
The Death Knight's eyes glanced down for a split second, then returned to Thrall.
"My name is Batherlis."
"Batherlis, thank you for saving my life and sacrificing yourself for the Horde. I welcome you with open arms to the Horde," Thrall stated and sat back down.
Batherlis saluted the Warchief. "Thank you, Warchief. I will serve to the best of my ability." He stated before turning to leave. The looks he received hadn't really changed from when he walked in, but at least there were a few of gratitude this time.
Remounting his horse, Batherlis pulled the reins and headed toward the Southern gate once again, aiming to catch the Zepplin to Undercity. He had past business to attend to...
*X*X*X*
Ievam learned a new trade while he was mourning for Itamar's untimely death. He had learned how to skin animals and use their hides for leather armor. He ran his own spot in the market where he sold the leather armor he made. His heart felt empty since Itamar had left him, but he picked up the pieces one day and decided that he needed to make money some how. The leather working kept his mind off of Itamar during the day. At night was when he missed him the most. He shook his head as he sat on the table top sewing some leather pieces together to make a jerkin of fine quality to keep his stock up.
The sound of hooves echoed down the long corridors of the Undercity. Otherworldly flames flickered on the stones behind Batherlis' steed, making a short trail behind the dark beast. He had been wandering around the city, attempting to spy anyone familiar. He knew he was searching for a rogue...he just couldn't recall the name. Ie-something.
Batherlis guided his horse into the Rogue quarter, hoping he'd stumble upon something. Flaming blue eyes surveyed across the moat, his steed passing in front of a Leatherworking stall...
Ievam looked up when he noticed a Death Knight walking in front of his stall. Just when he was about to ask him to scram, something small and shiny caught his attention. Upon closer examination, the ring he wore looked an awful lot like the one he gave...
"Itamar?" he asked as he walked right up to the Death Knight in question.
The name made Batherlis turn to look down at the undead that had walked up to him. He looked slightly surprised, or at least half of him did. The entire right side of his face was hidden by his white hair.
"That...was my name a long time ago. How did you know that?" He asked, the magical reverb echoing in his voice.
His glowing eyes studied the undead. He seemed far too familiar. Was this who he was looking for?
"You don't remember me then," Ievam said sadly, but didn't give up, "I'm Ievam...I'm the one who gave you that ring you're wearing. Do you remember anything about me at all?"
"Wait, Ievam?" He said, looking like he was trying to remember something. "I think...I remember you. You're maddeningly familiar." He said, pausing to try and think of anything else. He glanced down at the silver skull ring...
"I remember that you're a rogue I 'met' when I was a paladin...I know there's more but, I can't remember all of it." He said, mumbling the last part as he touched his hand to his forehead. He cringed when a finger trailed a part of his broken horn...
"There's a lot more you're not remembering. If you want, I can close shop early and help you remember," Ievam offered. He was relatively calm on the outside. On the inside, he was leaping for joy and wanted to kiss those lips he missed for so long and stay by his side always. But, for Itamar's sake, he didn't throw himself at him. He knew he had to keep things calm until he remembered him.
Ievam's response snapped Batherlis out of the memories of being the Lich King's servant. He looked back at the rogue, considering the offer. "If you wish. I want to know why I feel like I should know you so well..." He said, guiding his horse to follow Ievam.
After everything was packed away, Batherlis offered a hand to Ievam so they could both ride his charger. Despite his earlier emotionless face, Batherlis smiled slightly as he pulled Ievam up onto his lap.
Ievam found himself smiling once he was pulled into Itamar's lap. He knew that Death Knights didn't remember much from their previous life and that he must've had a new name by now. He straddled the horse and sat more on the saddle now since Itamar left more room for him. Not that he needed much room, but he was sitting in front of him with his back to him. He looked over his shoulder at him and said, "If you give me the reins I can take us to the first place we met."
Batherlis chuckled. Normally, it would've sounded amused, but with the echo it almost sounded evil. "If you think you can control a Death Charger, very well." He replied, handing Ievam the worn reins. He didn't know where Ievam was leading him, but surely if it was a trick, he wouldn't be stupid enough to attack a Death Knight. Most people couldn't stand being in a 10 foot radius around him, let alone sitting in his lap on his charger.
"We'll see what happens then," Ievam said with a smirk and took the reins. For some reason, he felt a cold chill go up his back as he tried to control the Death Charger. It was as if it was a warning that only one can control him and that was his master. Ievam gave the reins back to Itamar and said, "I'll just point where to go."
Batherlis took the reins back, his muscular arms around either side if Ievam to keep him on the saddle. The Death Knight leaned in and spoke softly next to Ievam's ear.
"I'm guessing we're heading toward the Monastery, yes?" He asked, looking down at the rogue in his lap as he pulled the reins, the charger beginning to walk.
He may not remember much about Ievam, but he knew he'd been on a mission to get something from the Monastery before he died. He didn't think he ever completed it...
"Yeah…how did you know that?" Ievam asked as he sat here on his charger. The way Itamar whispered into his ear left chills on his cool flesh. With Itamar's large muscular arms around his small frame holding the reins made him think back to when he was alive. Without thinking about it, he leaned back against the Death Knight as they rode toward the Monastery.
It wasn't a terribly long trip out of Undercity, the two of them now on the short path to the Monastery. Batherlis shifted in the saddle, 'accidentally' rubbing his crotch against Ievam's backside. He couldn't help that the rogue had practically glued himself to Batherlis' front. The Death Knight spoke next to Ievam's ear again.
"Where is it you wanted to take me?" That statement could've been taken one of two ways...
The rogue had to bite his lip for two reasons: the 'accidental' nudge and the way he asked that question. There was something about his voice and entire demeanor now that made Ievam want him just that much more. He cleared his throat and leaned forward as he pointed over to the left.
"We met over here in front of these trees, and you chased me for a good bit before we set up camp at another spot that's not too far from here…would you remember the second place?" he asked curiously.
Batherlis looked at the forest, scanning over the trees as if trying to recall where the camp had been. A short flash of recollection ghosted over his features.
"I think I remember." He said, turning the Charger toward the trees.
After passing a few trees, a decrepit hound suddenly darted out from behind some foliage and snapped at the charger's legs. The horse reared back in surprise, making Batherlis lean forward and hold Ievam in place so neither would fall. When the horse was on all fours again, the Death Knight snarled, waving a hand at the hound. Its eyes suddenly rolled back in its skull and it fell over dead without a sound...
"Pest..." He muttered, still holding Ievam close to him on the saddle.
Ievam just stared wide eyed at the now dead hound. When he finally blinked, he looked over his shoulder at Itamar and said, "Remind me to never piss you off. Ever."
Batherlis chuckled deep in his chest. He reached up and held Ievam's chin for a moment.
"I've killed far too many innocents while under the Lich King's control. I wouldn't harm you." He purred, releasing Ievam's chin to guide the horse further into the trees.
Ievam caught himself grinning like an idiot, but then quickly regained his composure. 'Dear god, I'm acting like a foolish girl,' he mentally scolded himself. Even though Itamar couldn't remember much of what they had, he was starting to like this new Itamar. His voice was what was attracting him most of all. He would be perfectly content having him whisper things into his ear all day. 'Yeah, I just need to stop this foolishness,' he thought to himself.
Batherlis noticed his riding companion's mental conflict, a devious thought occurring in his mind. He leaned down to speak to Ievam again, but this time right into his ear, lips barely brushing against the side.
"Are you alright?" He questioned, stopping the horse in a small clearing. They were here anyway.
Ievam grit his teeth and closed his eyes to try to calm himself down. The way Itamar was whispering to him was not helping at all. 'I need to remain calm. Calm is good,' he kept telling himself. When he regained composure…again…he answered in as calm a voice as possible, "I'm fine. This is the place."
Batherlis smirked slightly and helped Ievam get off the charger. He stepped off afterward, heavy plate armor shifting as he moved. His eyes seemed to glow even more brightly than they had the first time he was in this forest, small wisps of magic floating from the corners. He looked around, faint memories of their first meeting coming back to him.
A click sounded in the grove. It sounded like Ievam's tongue piercing, but...he hadn't done that...
Ievam heard the click and looked at Itamar. It sounded like something very familiar to him, something that he was accustomed to doing out of boredom. He stepped closer to Itamar and looked up at him. 'He's much taller then I remember,' he thought and then asked, "Was that you?"
Batherlis glanced down at Ievam, smiling slightly. "Yes, that was me. I didn't think it would echo so well here, see?" He said, sticking out his long tongue to show two piercings. He smirked a bit when he did so, which also showed off his sharp teeth. They almost looked longer than they had been before...
The rogue looked up at him and tilted his head to the side. He stepped closer and investigated the new piercings and he was strangely aroused by it. When Itamar retracted his tongue, Ievam looked up at him with some what of a wicked smile on his lips. He took Itamar's hands in his and placed them on his hips. His own hands slid up his strong arms and stopped at his shoulders. He slid his hands up to cup his face and just continued to look at him. His smile faded, but he wasn't sad or angry. He couldn't believe he was actually here, alive.
"Itamar, it's me, Ievam. Don't you remember me?" he asked quietly.
Batherlis gripped Ievam's hips and pulled him closer, meeting his gaze.
"I do remember, Ievam..." He replied, a dark whisper behind his voice as he leaned down to capture Ievam's lips in a possessive kiss. His hands slid around to pull Ievam flush against his armor, one going up to hold the back of the rogue's head. Batherlis moved his tongue against Ievam's lips, asking for entrance before snaking inside, letting Ievam experience the tongue piercings first hand.
Ievam was taken aback by Itamar's aggressiveness, but he submitted to him willingly. His arms snaked up and around Itamar's neck while he slipped his own tongue into his mouth to fight for dominance. He paid extra attention to his tongue piercings by caressing them with his own tongue. A soft moan escaped his lips as he practically molded himself to Itamar's larger frame.
Batherlis growled in pleasure, one hand trailing down to grope Ievam's behind. He used the hand on Ievam's head to tug at the rogue's hair, tilting his head back to give his throat a long lick and a few quick nips. He moved one knee between Ievam's legs, rubbing his crotch.
This behavior was nothing like the old Itamar...he'd died in battle and was resurrected and conditioned to be a predator, a killing machine. If there was any left of the original Itamar, it was suppressed by the Death Knight.
A gasp of surprise and lust escaped from Ievam when Itamar advanced his movements upon him. His member almost immediately came to attention when Itamar nudged it with his knee. He held on tighter to the Death Knight and tilted his head back willingly, wanting him to bite his neck again. This was nothing like the old Itamar, but he found that he liked this new side of him.
Even Batherlis' growls of lust and pleasure held the strange, dark echo, making him sound more like a demon than a man. He moved his knee against Ievam again, groping his rear again and pulling him further up his leg. Batherlis moved to bite Ievam's neck again, harder than before. He almost broke the skin with his teeth, but no fluid was drawn. He tugged at Ievam's hair again and chuckled darkly against his ear.
Once Ievam calmed himself down enough to realize where Itamar was going with this, Ievam was shocked at his own reaction to it. He was never this submissive. He pulled back a little from Itamar and kissed him harshly. He slid his tongue into his mouth and fought for some sense of dominance back.
Ievam's little dominance move was unexpected, but it still made Batherlis growl in approval, fighting back with his own tongue. He loved a challange. Moving his leg, Batherlis pulled Ievam flush against him, gyrating his hips to grind against the rogue's. It was quite obvious he was just as aroused as Ievam, and now they both knew it. Batherlis also managed to catch Ievam's tongue piercing between his teeth, tugging lightly on it.
Ievam growled some at Itamar when he caught his piercing. He was frustrated, aroused, and trapt all at the same time. He felt how hard Itamar's member was and that just made him want him that much more. This new side of dominance was alluring to the rogue, but at the same time, extremely frustrating. So, he ground his hips right back into Itamar's, letting him feel his hard member.
Batherlis gave Ievam a wicked grin, his hand tightening on the fabric of Ievam's pants. There was a slow shredding sound, and Ievam's pants were nothing more than scraps of cloth. Batherlis' sharp nails had ripped them to pieces. He gave the rogue a look that said 'what now, bitch?', his hand now free to roam the bare flesh of Ievam's lower extremities. Batherlis' chest rumbled in expectation of Ievam's next attempt.
Ievam's eyes widened at what had happened. He glared up at Itamar and said through grit teeth, "FINE. If you're going to take me, then you'd better make me moan so loud and make me want it again. My first experience with a man taking me wasn't a good one, so make it good."
Batherlis purred as he stroked down Ievam's spine. He used his other hand to fondle the rogue's member as he leaned in to whisper in Ievam's ear. "I'll have you begging for it." A lick followed his statement. Batherlis reached up to pull the remaining cloths off Ievam, then shed his own armor. He had many more scars than before he died, and also a multitude of bright blue runes all over his body. One of the most interesting changes were the addition of two nipple rings and three piercings down the underside of his shaft.
The rogue only stared at Itamar's new body. The part that caught his attention the most was the three piercings on the underside of is shaft. His own member seemed to throb and twitch with desire. He stepped closer to him and lightly ran his bony fingertip around Itamar's nipple. He was on the verge of just begging for it now, but his pride kept him in check. With his free hand, he slid it down Itamar's stomach and took hold of his hard shaft. He started stroking it a few times and noted how the new piercings felt against his hand so that he'd know what to expect when he was inside of him.
The rogue only stared at Itamar's new body. The part that caught his attention the most was the three piercings on the underside of is shaft. His own member seemed to throb and twitch with desire. He stepped closer to him and lightly ran his bony fingertip around Itamar's nipple. He was on the verge of just begging for it now, but his pride kept him in check. With his free hand, he slid it down Itamar's stomach and took hold of his hard shaft. He started stroking it a few times and noted how the new piercings felt against his hand so that he'd know what to expect when he was inside of him.
Ievam kept his gaze on Itamar as he continued to pleasure him. He moaned at the way he was using his tongue and arched his back when he'd do something particularly stimulating. He placed a hand on the back of Itamar's head and tugged at his hair some. 'I'm not gonna last too much longer,' he thought to himself and moaned loudly.
Batherlis groaned slightly when Ievam tugged his hair,a few pieces of it moving to the side to reval the scar where his horn had been broken in battle. There was a large scar leading from his right temple down to just under his right eye. He was lucky his eye was still intact and working by the looks of it.
After a little more attention to Ievam's shaft, Batherlis pulled away, putting his hands behind the rogue's knees to push his legs toward his chest. Leaning down again, the knight's tongue swiped over Ievam's entrance.
A shiver of unexpected pleasure ran up Ievam's spine when Itamar attended to his entrance. It had been a very long time since he was taken by a man and was a little weary about it. Another swipe of Itamar's tongue made him stop worrying about it and got a nice low moan from him. His member was so rock hard and aching for attention. He couldn't take it anymore.
"I-Itamar..." he said in a half moan.
"Hmm..?" He replied, his tongue pushing into Ievam's entrance to begin stretch him more. Batherlis' member was just as hard as Ievam's, but he was going to make the rogue beg for it first. After all, he did say he would.
When he was satisfied with Ievam's preparation, he lowered the rogue back down so his member was resting against Ievam's entrance.
"Yes, Ievam...?" His husky voice echoed seductively, glowing eyes staring into the rogue's with burning lust.
"I need you," Ievam said and stared right back at him, then added, "Now."
At that, Batherlis began to move forward, careful not to go too quickly until he was fully seated inside Ievam. He released a low, pleasured moan as he allowed Ievam to adjust. He was tighter than anticipated, but that only made Batherlis want to claim him more. Leaning down, he kissed and nipped at Ievam's neck, waiting for a que. He knew it might take a while for the rogue to adjust to his size.
Ievam hissed when Itamar started pushing into him. It was uncomfortable and he was trying to stay relaxed for him. It started to burn and sting a little from where he was stretching him out. When Itamar was fully sheathed and started nipping and kissing on his neck, it started to feel better. Once he was fully adjusted to him, he moved his hips down on Itamar's member to show he wanted him to continue.
Batherlis gave him another lick on the neck before pulling back and starting a smooth, even rhythm. He wanted to make sure Ievam felt everything. Batherlis growled lowly, something primal in him made him begin to move faster and thrust more forcefully. He tried to listen for any sounds of pain from Ievam, but his mind was hazed over with lust, making it difficult. He looked down at Ievam with a predatory gaze before claiming his mouth with a searing kiss.
Ievam returned the kiss with just as much passion. This time around wasn't painful like it was his first time. This time around was actually good. He moved his hips in time with Itamar's, meeting his member with his aching entrance with every thrust. Then, one of Itamar's piercings rubbed against something inside of him that made his member jerk and him arch his back and moan louder then ever.
Batherlis noted what angle had gotten that reaction out of Ievam and reached behind the rogue, pulling him close before sitting up, taking Ievam with him. In this new position, he got even deeper inside the rogue, thrusting hard against the spot each time. He knew Ievam wasn't going to last much longer, so he redoubled his efforts, running his sharp nails over Ievam's back and biting his shoulder to mesh pleasure and pain.
Ievam let out a series of moans and gripped onto Itamar's shoulders. He loved his new position and continued to keep the rhythm he established. He rode his thick shaft hard and fast, and when he scratched down his back and bit him, that made him moan all the more. He was so close to the edge. Just a little more would send him there...
"Itamar!" he shouted as his immense pleasure took over his body. Waves of passion consumed him and he scratched Itamar's shoulders while his ecstasy took suit. His seed spilled onto his lover's chest and stomach and some got on his as well.
Ievam's muscles contracted around Batherlis' member and he soon followed in ecstasy, spilling his essence inside the rogue. His tail curled as Batherlis threw his head back and roared in pleasure, echoing voice amplifying the sound three times over. The moment after his should, he moved forward and bit down hard on Ievam's shoulder, teeth sinking into the flesh. He let go after wards, muttering something in Draeneic and licking the wound to seal it.
Batherlis moved to grab a cloak and lay it on the ground, setting Ievam on it before pulling out of the rogue and laying down next to him. He purred in contentment.
Ievam sighed in content and looked at Itamar. He lied on his side and rested his head on his chest. He lightly traced the bright blue rune patterns on his skin with his bony finger and said, "I missed you. I thought I'd never see you again."
Batherlis moved an arm around Ievam's back to rest on his hip, the other behind his head. He watched Ievam trace his runes for a moment before answering.
"You almost didn't. I still wonder how I ended up as a Death Knight." He replied, looking up at the sky. Batherlis' hair moved again, revealing the ugly scarring over his eye and his missing horn.
Ievam looked up at him and rested his chin on his chest. He had noticed the missing horn and scar before, but he thought it'd be best to not mention it. But, since they were talking and he seemed to remember him, he thought it was alright.
"So...what happened to your horn and face?" he asked quietly.
Batherlis looked away for a moment to snarl, not wanting Ievam to think it was directed at him.
"My horn was ripped off by a Vygrul warrior. He picked me up and snapped it off. My face was slashed by a Scourge commander's blade. I was lucky my eye wasn't damaged. The rest of my scars are from battle and initiate...training." He replied, trying to answer the question a little more fully so they wouldn't play 20 questions about various scars on his body.
"Well," Ievam said and pulled himself up on Itamar a little. He brushed his hair from his face and kissed his scar, then added, "I don't think it's all that bad. I still want you."
He then slid back down where he was with his head resting on his chest and sighed. He smiled and nuzzled close to his lover.