Author's Notes:
Graphic Gay Sex.
You've been warned.
Ж
Act I Scene IX
The Seduction I've Been Waiting For
Nathiel lay on Ambryn's couch with his eyes closed. He wasn't asleep. Sleep would have deprived him of what he was feeling now. He was savoring the sensation of Ambryn there in his arms, treasuring this moment of intimacy, skin to skin. In the wake of his argument with Belauq, he'd allowed himself to believe that perhaps the druid had been right, too shocked, too insecure in his faith in Ambryn to follow the abrupt change in tactics. Belauq had realized Nathiel's past wasn't enough to hold him, and gone after Ambryn instead.
But here, with Ambryn secure in his arms, honey-spun hair fanning across his chest in a soft cascade of rich amber, it was so much easier to look back and see through what he realized now was a desperate, last-ditch attempt to manipulate him. Now, his fears assuaged, it seemed so incredibly obvious. Nathiel even felt a little stupid, not just for doubting Ambryn, but for doubting his own instincts where the human was concerned. With his arms curled around Ambryn's back, it was so much easier to recall that night at the Cerulean Lights where he'd pulled him close and sensed the hesitancy mixed with desire that told the truth all by itself.
That hesitancy had melted away over the past weeks. If Nathiel hadn't opened his mouth a little less than a week ago when last they'd shared this couch, he knew for a fact that he would have been buried to the hilt in the human's virgin body.
He felt Ambryn relax into him, heard the human's breathing slow as he slipped into slumber, and opened one eye with a small smile. It was strange, this ability to lay here, to desperately want Ambryn, his penis as hard as steel and engorged to its full length and breadth, and yet somehow be able to resist his body's demands to satisfy that urge as long as Ambryn was there in his arms, as though sated simply by his presence.
He could wake him. Ambryn would welcome him eagerly. Nathiel didn't doubt it for a moment.
But he didn't want to spoil what he had planned for tonight. Nathiel's smile widened. He already knew the sex would be memorable, but this time, for this one, he wanted everything else to be just as much so.
He was actually starting to feel slightly smug over his self-restraint when Ambryn shifted slightly in his sleep, a soft thigh just grazing his cock, and it was all Nathiel could do not to flip the human over and take him, all his plans for tonight be damned, his hands clenching into fists, blood roaring, heart pumping, teeth gritted.
Well, maybe his self-restraint wasn't so great after all.
Ж
Shaenae pulled her cloak close around her, mouth thinning with displeasure as the frigid breeze tried to snatch it away from her or wrest her hood from over her pale blue hair. She missed the warmth of Ashenvale already, its silken nights and welcoming shadows a refuge ruled by the night elves who hunted in it, feared even by the demonic and orcish invaders that sought to defile it. They were few in these latter days, or else those invaders would not persist as they had, but persist they did, though with a watchful eye toward wherever boughs cast shade.
More recently of course, the orcs and their allies had suffered even greater losses, thanks to whatever they had loosed. The priestesses of Elune believed that whatever had been released needed to be discovered and rebound. Shaenae was pragmatic enough to wonder if preparing to take such measures was truly the course they wanted to pursue, but also wise enough to sense that it might be necessary to do so.
After all, there were only so many orcs and their ilk, only so many demons, and at the rate they were finding their deaths at the hand of this mysterious force, there might not be a great many left before long, and who was to say this . . . thing might not seek elsewhere to sate its appetite? That it was feeding, Shaenae did not doubt. She had seen the carcasses left after it had fed, scraps of flesh withered on the broken, half-eaten bones.
The kal'dorei huntress looked up at the powerful walls of Valiance Keep, stern gray stone drawing closer as the ship neared, and frowned. If only the humans wouldn't spread quite so far, she thought grumpily. She'd heard the lands around Stormwind Keep were temperate, but those lands had been given to others to search.
She drew the portrait once more from an inner pocket, glimmering enamel denoting not one, but two faces. Had she not been told, she would scarce have believed the masterfully rendered images were the same person despite the similarity in their faces. On one side, golden curls fanned out like the coiling flames of a harsh sun from a cold, snowy face, the eyes impenetrable wells of darkness, somehow disturbing, the artist's work a little too painstakingly accurate for her liking.
On the other side of the ovoid was the same snowy face and pale skin, but the curls were spun honey, feathery and delicate despite their fullness. The jade eyes were lovely, like windows onto the forest, but disturbing in their own way, somehow immeasurably sad and yet terribly vivid, charged with emotion.
Yes, she thought to herself, looking into those jade eyes, studying the fervor in them and recalling the words of Priestess Mishai, a terrible love indeed. She wondered who those eyes were gazing upon in that moment of awful vulnerability, and then shook her head. She didn't want to know.
Her gaze went to the wharves, frost persisting in the shadows of the piers where the sun couldn't reach, and hoped devoutly that the human she and her comrades had been ordered to find was not here. Let one of the others find him. She wanted no part of this strange, pale, two-faced young man.
Still, she searched the faces of the human dockworkers who caught the ropes or hauled cargo nearby, scanning the sailors and soldiers with her keen, lavender eyes, but their faces were ruddy, many weathered by harsh wind and the sun, eyes of blue, and gray, and brown, or green too light or too dark, hair red, blond, brown, auburn, black, none of those few with curls the shade of spun honey.
Ten minutes later she was in the office of the port's governor, ignoring his barely-hidden incredulity as she explained her mission and laid the portrait on his desk, feeling only the faintest hint of satisfaction as he picked it up, caught sight of the image with the eyes of shadow on its reverse side, and genuine concern crossed his features.
"I hope he's not here," he said quietly as she prepared to leave, sketches done up by a scribe in his hands, his brown eyes now reflecting her own unease.
Shaenae nodded ever so slightly. "So do I."
Her gaze went to the northeast once more as she stepped outside, the two sentinels who'd been assigned to her for this mission looking patently uncomfortable as they emerged into the cold. Tonight, they would rest in an inn. Tomorrow, they began the trek to Dalaran. Shaenae didn't bother to conceal the frown that crossed her lips. Her superiors might consider her relatively open-minded, but that didn't ease the ingrained distrust of wielders of arcane magic that she had known all her life.
"We leave the rest to the humans?" Iralia's expression was hopeful. Lofgryn glanced at her as well, but his dour expression said that he already knew her answer.
"We leave for Dalaran tomorrow," Shaenae said simply to her subordinates.
Ж
Mattran wasn't fond of mysteries. He grumbled as he sat on his desk, as always disdaining the chair, and finally dropped the letter requesting the "excellent and well-remarked upon services of one Nathiel Highfury" on the floor, watching it flutter like a dead bird.
He didn't like mysteries any more, hadn't since he'd helped start Vir Aegeae years ago. Mysteries were bad for business. The gnomish priest reached up and ran his hands through his thick, inky hair. He was intelligent. He knew he was. The trouble was, you had to have facts before you could find out what exactly you were dealing with, needed to understand the workings of a thing before you could comprehend its nature.
He knew that floods of requests for someone with a good reputation as a hired blade didn't start coming in overnight. It started slowly, very slowly, maybe one or two repeat customers requesting someone who'd done them particularly well, and of course you did your best to accommodate them so you'd get the repeat business, though you couldn't accommodate them too often, because that led to a different set of problems, especially when someone who was paying better wanted the same merc.
He stared down at the creased piece of paper laying on the wooden floor of his office, and considered dropping down on top of it, maybe stomping it a few times for a little additional satisfaction.
"Don't forget dear, Nathiel is bringing his fiancé by tomorrow. We want the place to look good." Grendala pulled the gauntlets from her hands and tossed them onto a convenient pile of reports, drawing Mattran's gaze as she entered.
He'd always thought she was pretty for a dwarf, and she'd aged gracefully, auburn hair not even touched yet by gray, dancing blue eyes gleaming with merriment. Mattran frowned at his wife.
Grendala frowned back at him. "What?"
"He hasn't bought him a ring yet," Mattran said bluntly.
Grendala rolled her eyes. "He's also become a completely . . . well, maybe not completely, but definitely a different man."
"How do you even know that?" Mattran asked crossly. "Granted, his sleeping patterns have changed and he hasn't gone through the usuals here before going back to the bars for more, but it could be a phase."
Grendala rolled her eyes. "Stop picking a fight with me and tell me what's wrong. You know as well as I do that he's head over heels even if he can't see it yet. Hell, I knew it before you did! You had to hear it from Reiyad!"
"People keep asking for him, and I know someone's up to no good, but I can't figure out what it is!" Mattran threw up his hands, and then slid off the desk, scuffing his feet on the letter for emphasis. "Please the Light, I was a holy inquisitor, Gren!" He folded his arms and scowled. "I can't send him out like this either to get him out of the way! He's sopping with so much lust it's practically oozing out his pores! He'd get the fares killed!"
Grendala smiled fondly and kissed him on the cheek. "It'll be so nice to finally see him settle down with a good boy."
"He said I can't do the wedding unless I agree not to swear," Mattran growled.
"No more strange young men dropping by the office," Grendala added.
Mattran sighed. "What does he think I am, a fucking saint?"
"Don't forget to tidy up," she said sweetly as she turned to leave.
"Maybe I'll just go to the damn reception." Mattran contemplated his wife's retreating backside, the sight having a slightly mollifying effect on his temper. "It's about time he got his shit squared away."
"I'll make sure your robes are clean," Grendala called over her shoulder. "And don't forget to dust!"
"Maybe I like dust," he called after her, a faint smile starting to curve his mouth, and gave the letter another scuff. He turned back to his desk, heaved himself up onto it, and his eyes fell on the expeditionary estimates that smooth secretary girl had dropped off for the Ambassador. What had her name been again? Eana? Ellena? Erica?
He brought his head around, glanced at the letter on the floor, looked back at the neatly organized report with its fat bottom line that he'd circled twice in red, and his expression flattened, mood darkening all over again as a nasty suspicion occurred to him.
It couldn't be. There was no fucking way the two were related. Was there?
Of all the bull-fucking shit . . .
Ж
Nathiel felt himself rising from the drowsing half-sleep that had overcome him, a sort of languorous calm that slipped through his veins, drawing him into a not-quite-dream where his world, for an all too brief stretch of sweet, thoughtless time, was simply good.
It didn't vanish altogether, seemed to recede instead, ebbing but not departing. His eyes went to the clock on Ambryn's wall. It was a little after three in the afternoon, and he felt a hint of chagrin. They'd slept the day away. He looked down, and met Ambryn's lovely jade eyes, feeling a warm smile spread involuntarily over his lips, utterly relaxed, an answering smile curving those sweet, lush lips.
Nathiel kissed them, indulged in the taste of them, not with desperate need as he had this morning, but savoring them. He felt his body rousing once more, arms tightening around the human mage, and broke the kiss.
Ambryn blinked, jade eyes now dark and rich with pleasure, and his lips settled in a slight, unbelievably adorable pout that made Nathiel want to kiss him all over again.
It was a second kiss he almost didn't manage to break off.
"You have to get ready for dinner." The words came out husky, almost a growl. In spite of his words, Nathiel's embrace only tightened, hands sliding down to those wonderful buttocks once more, starting to knead.
Ambryn's eyelids were half-lowered. "Why," he asked as he pressed a kiss to Nathiel's bare chest, sending a flush of heat through the region where they graced his skin "do I have to do that?"
"I want to take you," Nathiel rasped. He was already as hard as steel again, unable to resist the urge to thrust his hips, cock rubbing against Ambryn's bottom.
"Take me," Ambryn whispered back, lips tracing a line down Nathiel's chest, over his sternum, leaving tiny blooms of sweet heat down his hard, flexing belly.
Nathiel rolled over, pinning Ambryn under him, kissed his mouth, and looked down at him, honey-golden hair fanning over the russet upholstery of the couch, jade eyes sultry, pale skin faintly flushed. He was between the human's spread legs. He could feel the head of his cock pressing against Ambryn's entrance.
"I want this to be special." The words were less protest than lament, and he readied himself, hands gripping the backs of Ambryn's knees.
Ambryn's eyes widened, arms closing around Nathiel's neck, and then he was levering himself up.
The kiss wasn't full of desperate passion. It was gentle, light and tender, a quick brush of his lips against Nathiel's, and then he was hugging Nathiel tight.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
And Nathiel was suddenly in control again, wrapping his arms gently around Ambryn as chagrin flushed through him. He chuckled ruefully after a moment. "Please don't think I don't want this, I-"
"I can feel it." Ambryn's tone was teasing. Nathiel's still-hard manhood was a thick, hot pole between them. "I was . . . in a hurry."
Nathiel pulled back so he could look once more into Ambryn's eyes. He brushed his lips against a soft cheek. "I think if it was anyone else . . . I would be too." He cupped Ambryn's face with his hand, felt genuine wonder at the way the jade eyes slid halfway closed, Ambryn nestling his cheek into his palm.
"You should go before I change my mind," Ambryn murmured.
"You mean before you change mine." Nathiel smiled tenderly, kissed the human on the brow, and rose.
The moment he was on the other side of the door, his hard-on stuffed into his pants and plainly visible to anyone who looked too far down, he was kicking himself. He almost turned around and knocked, his momentary urge to be noble disintegrating under the full weight of his raging libido. He took a deep breath, gathered his composure as manfully as was possible for any incredibly horny male, and walked uncomfortably towards the lift.
Ж
Ambryn waited until he was absolutely sure Nathiel was long gone to throw a bookend he'd never particularly thought much of at the closed door, a frustrated scowl on his features.
Feeling only slightly better afterward, and with a faintly embarrassed flush in his cheeks, he quietly picked up the book-end, none the worse for wear after its brief flight, and with a sigh, put it back in its place before going into his bedroom.
Ж
Half-expecting Belauq to still be lounging about the premises, lying in wait, Nathiel was relieved to find his apartment empty. His bed was even made, covers tight enough to bounce a coin off of, edges square. He barely gave the dusk-colored night-lily on the plumped pillow a glance, hastily stripping off his armor and gear, taking a long shower, regret over not taking an opportunity to bed Ambryn yet again turned to anticipation for tonight. It would be right when it happened.
He couldn't even explain it to himself, this sudden desire not to rush something that in all honesty, he'd always taken for granted before. But he knew when he looked at Ambryn that he didn't want to wake up to him just one morning and move on afterwards to the next partner. Maybe he was tired of the routine, and Ambryn was just a novelty, offering a chance at monogamy that Nathiel had never really experimented with, an idea that seemed new and exciting for precisely that reason.
Something deep inside him gave the thought a contemptuous look, gutted it, and shoved the corpse out of a window without a glance spared to see where it would land.
No. He wanted Ambryn, wanted to possess him, wanted to have Ambryn be his and his alone. There was something deeper there than mere conquest. He was determined to explore it.
Nathiel finished showering quickly now, aware of passing time, shaving, using the cologne he only bothered with when he was in the city, and dressed in a dark suit, the shirt a rich, dark maroon, and headed out again, ignoring the faintly disapproving look his landlady gave him, probably assuming he was out for another night at Shysters.
She couldn't have a clue that tonight he was going to taste something much sweeter.
Ambryn opened the door almost the moment Nathiel finished knocking. Nathiel didn't bother with a greeting, just wrapped an arm around Ambryn's waist, lifted him until their lips met, and explored that delightful mouth once more with his tongue.
Only afterwards, walking down the hall towards the lift, Ambryn against him, his arm around the human's ribs, did he take a moment to appreciate the pale blue fabric of the long-sleeved shirt, embroidered in darker blue with spare, tasteful geometric designs. The sleeves were long, stopping just past the knuckles, the shirt clearly tailored to compliment the lines of his torso, shapely but not overly thin, hem reaching the tops of his hips, the long, night-blue slacks dark.
Nathiel was already thinking of taking that shirt off, running his hands over the soft, pale skin beneath, seeing Ambryn flush with pleasure.
There was a bouquet of carnations waiting on the seat, about the closest thing to a "carnal" flower, at least in name, that Nathiel could think of. They spent most of the ride in the same place. Ambryn straddled Nathiel's hips, their lips locked, tongues dancing.
It was incredibly hard to muster a modicum of decorum when the carriage stopped in front of the Cerulean Lights. Nathiel buttoned his shirt back up and tucked it back in, and Ambryn glanced up and smiled.
It was as if the air changed with that smile, Nathiel's desire not diminishing, only becoming less immediate. The lust wasn't gone, but it was joined by tenderness, conjured by the memory of the last evening spent beneath the club's high, graceful ceiling. Ambryn's arm in his, Nathiel escorted him to the doors.
The maitre'd glanced up as the doorman ushered them inside, took in the sight of them, and inclined his head, bending slightly. "I would beg your indulgence for but a moment. Please, wait here."
Nathiel blinked, and glanced down to see a slightly pensive look on Ambryn's face.
"What is it?"
"I'm afraid we might run into someone I know," Ambryn said after a moment, giving him a sheepish look.
"Please don't make that sound like a bad thing, Ambryn dear."
Nathiel's head came up at the sound of that voice, and he watched her emerge from a curtained doorway, slim brass pipe in her fingers, a curl of blue tobacco smoke uncoiling between her withered lips. Her paling blond hair lay over one shoulder, sharply pointed ears plainly visible. Her faded blue eyes took them both in, and she smiled faintly.
"Aunt Adaliria." Ambryn's tone was abashed.
"He's my godson, kal'dorei, try not to look too startled. I'm a friend of his mother's." The faded blue gaze never met Nathiel's. The high elf smiled. "It's been two years sweetheart. You'll forgive me, but I couldn't let you go again without at least saying hello this time."
Ambryn looked down. "After she died . . . I just . . ." The memory rose up, choking him, his mother's cold, pale face, body utterly still, surrounded by ice-blue silk and framed by dark mahogany. He still remembered the slightly sweet scent of tobacco smoke as he cried into a thin shoulder.
"You needed time to grieve. I understand." Adaliria nodded, and her expression turned wistful. "I've missed all of you terribly." She shook her head, forestalling Ambryn's words with a wave of her hand. "Enjoy your meal. It's on the house." She half-turned, and then hesitated. Her faded blue eyes seemed just a little brighter. "But come see me again?"
Ambryn crossed to her in a rush, holding her close, and after a moment her arms came around him. "Go," she murmured quietly. "Enjoy your night."
Ambryn nodded, letting her go, and wiped away the tears in his eyes. He ached, but in a good way. He looked back at Nathiel, but the big night elf just smiled at him.
Nathiel should have been irritated by the interruption. The longer they stood here in the foyer, the longer it would be until they ate, which meant they'd leave later, which meant they'd get to the hotel room he'd booked later, which meant he'd have to wait even longer until he was inside Ambryn. Instead, he felt strangely glad for his date, a sort of pleasure welling up in him at the sight of him reunited with someone he hadn't seen in a while, someone he obviously cared a great deal about.
He would have felt a slightly grudging gratitude if the old quel'dorei had simply paid for their dinner, but seeing the way she'd just put back a piece of Ambryn that Nathiel hadn't even realized was missing actually woke a small bit of warmth in him towards her.
He took Ambryn once more in his arms, kissed him slowly, tenderly, gently.
It was hard to concentrate on the food, the wine, or the music, hard to focus on anything but Ambryn, sitting across from him, looking absolutely radiant, jade eyes full of joy, for all the world as if that last night they'd come here had returned, bringing that same, strange, dreamy magic that turned everything to perfection.
They ate, and they danced, and Nathiel relished the feel of Ambryn's hips rocking against him as they moved together, the music deep and rich, classy and yet intimate.
Nathiel bent his head, not caring if anyone saw them as he claimed Ambryn's mouth with his own, desire coiling in him, and reveled in the way the kiss was eagerly returned, no hesitancy in it this time. His lips, his body, everything responded without any sign of reservation. They moved like they'd been made for each other. The rest of the world stopped existing.
Nathiel's erection throbbed against his thigh, his whole body aching for Ambryn, craving him. His hands were cupped around those pillowy buttocks, hips grinding, his tongue in Ambryn's mouth. His restraint was in tatters. He couldn't hold back any longer. He lifted Ambryn in his arms, carrying him off the dance floor, toward the doors.
Nathiel didn't check to see if the carriage waiting outside had been ordered for anyone else, just threw open the door and lifted Ambryn inside. By the time they'd arrived at the front door of the hotel his shirt was all the way unbuttoned and his fly was halfway open. Ambryn was in his arms.
He almost spoiled it by making love to him right there in the lift, Ambryn's slacks around his knees, his finger massaging the gateway to Ambryn's body.
They just barely made it to the bed, and then Nathiel was stripping Ambryn's clothing off, shrugging out of his shirt as Ambryn's hands pushed it down off his shoulders, flinging his trousers to one side, and then they were both blessedly naked, the hot hard length of his long, thick penis a heavy weight on Ambryn's belly. He could feel his seed starting to ooze from its tip as he tangled his fingers in Ambryn's hair and claimed his mouth all over again.
Ambryn tried to wrap his fingers around it, but it was too big for them to close, still a good amount of space left between his thumb and fingers, and he felt Nathiel shudder with his touch, their tongues tangling. Big hands closed around his own, imprisoning them gently above his head.
For a breathless heartbeat, Nathiel just looked down at Ambryn, admiring him. He was glorious, a vision of unsurpassed beauty. His thick curls spilled across the pillow like rich, flowing honey, his pale face flushed with desire, full lips slightly parted. His jade eyes were glimpses onto primordial Ashenvale, the forest gripped in the full, heated throb of summer, lush and vibrant and alive, untainted, wild, majestic. His body was soft, a graceful conjunction of swells and curves and lines, not thin or plump, simply fully fleshed, everything perfectly aligned.
Ambryn marveled at the sight of his lover, rising above him like a great, dark god, his short, wild hair like the depths of the night sky, his flaring silver eyes, exotic and mysterious, the powerful muscles that played underneath his rich purple skin as he moved, his big body lean, defined, and strong, chiseled hips contrasting with the pale thighs he knelt between. His thick manhood lay atop Ambryn's own sex, hot and heavy and dark, the thick head reaching to the bottom of Ambryn's chest, clear fluid pooling in the slight hollow there.
Nathiel started with the tip of each of his human lover's fingers, kissing each soft pad, the insides of the knuckles, first the right, then the left, kissing the wrists, tonguing them. He starting to work his way down the inside of Ambryn's left forearm when Ambryn's mouth closed on his left nipple. His cock leapt, and he used one hand to hold Ambryn's wrist in place, his other thumb slipping into Ambryn's mouth to keep it from causing any more mischief that might make him come before he was inside of him.
Ambryn's tongue wrapped around the digit and he suckled in a distracting manner that was almost as bad for Nathiel's self-control. Nathiel gritted his teeth for a moment, but continued, working his way down to Ambryn's elbow, the inside of his bicep, laving his armpit with his tongue before dragging it across to a nipple, nipping and suckling tenderly, smiling as he listened to the human gasp.
He claimed Ambryn's mouth once more with his own, tongue teasing, swirling, dancing playfully before his mouth trailed down to Ambryn's throat, tongue lapping at the hollows, kissing the pulsing lines of his jugular, finding another nipple and lingering for a few moments before gliding along his shoulder to the right armpit, nuzzling there before continuing up the inside of the bicep again.
He could hear Ambryn panting beneath him, the sound soft and enthralling. He dug his tongue into the inside of Ambryn's elbow and was halfway up his forearm when he felt Ambryn lift his head.
Ambryn opened his mouth, and with his forehead pressed against Nathiel's granite-hard abdomen, was just able to get his lips around the eye of the night elf's massive shaft. He started to suck, and a slightly dark, somewhat salty taste filled his mouth.
Nathiel flung his head back with a grunt, felt his cock start to pulsate, and pulled away before he hit the point of no return and hosed the back of Ambryn's throat with his seed, pressing his lips against the soft mouth that had just been on his penis, moaning against Ambryn's lips at the taste of himself in the human mage's mouth.
There was no holding back anymore. He slipped two of his fingers into his mouth, massaged Ambryn's entrance, and began to press into him with his index finger.
"Relax," he breathed, kissing Ambryn's face.
Ambryn opened up for him, and Nathiel stroked and massaged, his deft, practiced finger going right to the place where-
Ambryn arched on Nathiel's finger, a sound of indiscriminate pleasure tearing itself from between his teeth as a thunderbolt of pleasure shot up his spine, elicited by Nathiel's touch within his body. He writhed, moving his hips to meet each thrust.
Nathiel added another finger, and then a third, until Ambryn was almost sobbing with pleasure in his arms, face gleaming with sweat, jade eyes unfocused. He withdrew his fingers, placed the head of his cock at Ambryn's entrance, and began to press inward, claiming Ambryn's mouth once more with his own.
He felt Ambryn tense underneath him, fight to relax, only to tense up again, straining to accommodate his girth. He steeled himself, and pushed harder.
The jade eyes went blank, a ululating cry echoing between their teeth, Ambryn's face contorting as Nathiel penetrated him.
Nathiel hesitated, started to pull out.
Ambryn wrapped his arms around Nathiel's neck, plunged his tongue into Nathiel's mouth, and kissed him beyond all self-control. There was nothing left in him but desperate animal need and burning desire, and he slid deeper.
Blinding pain turned to euphoric pleasure, a metamorphosis taking place deep within Ambryn's body, nerves switching from one extreme to the other as Nathiel sank into him, once again setting off fireworks inside his brain as those deft fingers had only moments ago, and Ambryn clung to him, needing this, wanting this with everything he was.
Each long, powerful stroke of Nathiel's manhood seemed to fuel something deep within him, as though a star had been birthed within his flesh in the place where the two of them were joined. Ambryn was filled with light and an expanding sense of pressure that continued to grow as Nathiel rocked harder into him, hips driving, making him over into a radiant being of heat and and unearthly glory, transforming both of them as they became one, swept up in the throes of their lovemaking. Raw, untrammeled energy pulsed within him, faster, faster, and he cried out with it.
Ambryn wasn't sure at what point heat had turned completely to transcendental light, at what point the universe had stopped existing. He felt it gradually reassembling itself around him in the aftermath, felt Nathiel's arms tight around him. He couldn't for all the world describe the totality of what he'd felt in that moment, knowing only that it had been something much grander than perfect bliss.
Nathiel held Ambryn tightly, afraid that if he let go or loosed his grip for even a moment, he would wake up and this would have all been a dream, reassuring himself with the weight in his arms, opening his eyes to see Ambryn's flushed, dreamy face. He'd never felt it like this before, this staggering release, this pure and perfect completion. It had never before felt so right.
Nathiel lowered his mouth to Ambryn's and kissed him long and deep, claiming him with it.
He never wanted to give this up.
Ambryn lay in Nathiel's embrace, his night elven lover still buried deep within him, Nathiel's seed nestled in his body, and held him close, breathing in the scent of him. He'd been afraid at first, but this . . . what they had just done . . . he couldn't have imagined anything more right, more perfect.
He felt complete.
When Nathiel kissed him again, there was a certain gravitas about it, a heaviness unlike the passion of a moment ago.
"Don't leave me," Nathiel rasped, voice husky.
"Never." Ambryn looked up into Nathiel's blazing silver eyes, the affirmation written in his heart. The broad smile that swept across the night elf's face was infectious.
Ж
Nathiel smiled as he opened his eyes to the morning light streaming through the white-curtained windows, because Ambryn was still there in his arms. It hadn't been a dream, and his lover was still here, slumbering peacefully in his embrace. Ambryn hadn't left him.
Nathiel couldn't help himself. He reached over and caressed those beautiful curls, feeling them soft between his fingers, treasuring each satin lock. He kissed the pale forehead, looking down at the lovely jade eyes as they fluttered open.
"Sleep well?" he asked softly.
Ambryn smiled at him. "It's the best I've ever slept."
It was true. They'd made love eight times, and each time was as powerful and soul-shaking as the first. He'd fallen asleep with Nathiel still buried deep inside him, exhausted and replete.
"I think I might love you," Nathiel said in Darnassian, watching the jade eyes blink.
Ambryn pressed a light kiss to Nathiel's hard chest. "What does that mean?"
"You have beautiful hair," Nathiel lied easily, smile deepening. "You have beautiful lips, and cheeks, and fingers . . . even toes."
"You have a beautiful . . ." Ambryn trailed off, and then his smile turned wicked. "Penis."
Nathiel lifted his eyebrows briefly, grin becoming salacious. "You like it, do you?"
"I do," Ambryn purred, reaching down to stroke the member in question.
He was on his back in half a heartbeat, Nathiel's mouth on his, big body between his legs. Nathiel entered him, cock rock-hard once more, relishing the silken warmth that enveloped him as he plunged into Ambryn's body.
There was no more pain, only sweet ecstasy, moans of pleasure caged in their joined mouths. Ambryn gave himself wholly over to it.
Nathiel sank all the way in, pulled almost all the way out, and thrust once more, setting up a slow, steady, demanding rhythm as Ambryn writhed beneath him. He pumped his throbbing shaft into Ambryn's flesh until the universe disintegrated once more into pure pleasure, distantly aware of his seed jetting into his lover's body, the evidence of Ambryn's own climax matting the hairs on his hard belly.
Ambryn felt reality return, looking up into Nathiel's satisfied expression.
"This is going to be good," the night elf said huskily.
It wasn't until late that morning, closer to noon really, that they finally vacated the room. The shower was far more steamy than warranted merely by the hot water by the time they were finally through, and they stopped at a restaurant for brunch.
"You know," Nathiel said, holding his fork in one hand, a devilish grin on his face. "We could postpone your introduction to Vir Aegeae, spend the rest of the day in bed."
"You don't think they'd be a little cross?" Ambryn smiled, leaning on one elbow. "Your friend Belauq seemed quite insistent."
Nathiel held in a flinch at the mention of the druid, smile slipping, jaw tightening.
Ambryn blinked, almost not certain he'd even seen the brief storm of emotion that had crossed Nathiel's face. His brow furrowed ever so slightly. "Is something wrong?"
Nathiel shook his head. "It doesn't matter." His smile returned after a moment. "They were pretty enthusiastic about meeting you though. I guess it'd be a shame to disappoint them." He reached across the table, clasping Ambryn's hand in his. "I'll come to your apartment to get you."
Nathiel's apartment was exactly as he'd left it yesterday evening. He hung up his suit, holding the breast up to his nose for a moment, smelling Ambryn's lingering scent, before putting it away, changing into more comfortable trousers and a light jacket over a plain shirt. His eye caught on the small stand where his spear stood, along with a few other weapons, including his glaive, and a few knives. He took one of the thicker knives, one-edged, but true, and stuck it in the back of his waistband.
He wasn't certain why he wanted the insurance, but it felt good to have it there, just in case.
Ambryn was waiting for him in his apartment lobby, wearing a loose-fitting green sweater with generous sleeves and flowing khaki trousers, smiling brightly as Nathiel came into sight.
The smile was infectious, waking an answering grin on Nathiel's face that he didn't try to suppress as he took the human mage in his arms. He couldn't resist those soft, inviting lips, and he took that invitation, finding warm welcome within.
"Come on." Nathiel's grin was slightly lascivious as he pulled back. "Before you change my mind."
Ambryn blushed faintly, jade eyes sparkling.
Ж
It felt good, walking down the street with his arm around Ambryn, surprisingly so. Nathiel felt oddly buoyant, for the first time getting an appreciation for the old cliché "walking on air" that one so often heard about. He felt strong, light, and Ambryn filled his arm perfectly. Once again, Nathiel marveled, it was as though Ambryn had been made with him in mind.
Vir Aegeae was headquartered in a square, bluff building of gray stone. It wasn't very pretty, the windows small and high in the walls, no graceful tile or dome for the roof, just a flat gray top, but it was serviceable and secure, hunkering there at the end of Gristmill lane. Despite its appearance, Nathiel had fond memories of the place.
Doors banded with steel opened onto the foyer, floored in more gray stone, Vir Aegeae's bronze and silver Star and Shield banner hanging on the wall to the right opposite the large fireplace. Nathiel's lips quirked as he took in all the people who were waiting there.
Reiyad grinned broadly as he stepped forward. "We almost thought you weren't coming Nath."
"It was harder than usual to get myself out of bed this morning." Nathiel squeezed Ambryn lightly, enjoying the flush of color that rose to his cheeks. His gaze went back to Reiyad, only noticing then that he looked slightly more . . . formal than usual. His long azure hair was pulled neatly back and braided with leather studded with silver, buttons on his collared shirt.
He shook Reiyad's hand, and Kuma came forward, wearing what was unmistakably a dress, a sapphire pendant at her throat, a smile on her pale ice-blue face. Her husband Mohirn was at her elbow, like Reiyad wearing a formal collared shirt and slacks.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said brightly, extending a hand to Ambryn. "I'm Kuma."
"It's an honor." Ambryn met her smile with his own, gently taking her hand.
Nathiel glanced over the assemblage, which was frankly larger than he'd expected. Everyone was dressed up slightly. Glorfinnen and his brothers Hlastus and Raeln stood off to one side, the three kal'dorei wearing matching shirts. Hlastus was another fellow guildmate who, like Belauq, had shared Nathiel's bed on more than once occasion, but the trio didn't look irritated or surly.
Norist was there, along with her partner Delene, also kal'dorei, the priestess and the huntress wearing gowns that Nathiel himself wasn't accustomed to seeing on them. Forst was also present, the human paladin wearing the polished bronze breastplate he wore for special occasions, and Bandrin wore a formal tunic, his boots polished. Even Sillesto was in attendance, the human mage wearing a respectable red robe rather than the frayed brown one he typically wore.
Nathiel kept counting, and his eyes widened, because the assemblage here had to be all of Vir Aegeae that wasn't out on a mission. Grendala appeared, wearing a dress, and Nathiel could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen that. Mattran was right behind her, the gnome's pitch black hair still standing up in spikes, but his robes were clean and he had to have washed his face and hands, because the ubiquitous ink that normally blotched both was notably absent.
Also notably absent was a certain golden-eyed kal'dorei druid.
"So you're him." Mattran stumped forward, brushing aside his employees. "Mattran Helfenheimler. I run the agency."
"I'm Ambryn Dellani. It's an honor to meet you sir." Ambryn's smile was polite, jade eyes warm.
Mattran stopped and blinked. "Ambassador Dellani's son?"
Ambryn's smile waned, and he swallowed, looking down. "We're . . . estranged."
Ж
There was a long, awkward silence, punctuated by Mattran's sharp "hnh." The gnome priest blinked, eyes narrowing, as another piece of the puzzle clicked into place, suspicion crystallizing into certainty. The Ambassador was definitely involved, there was no doubt about it, and if Mattran's hunch was correct, he was putting more than a little effort into getting Nathiel out of the city and away from his offspring.
Maybe worse.
"He know you're here?" Mattran asked bluntly.
"I'm sorry." The jade eyes were turning dark, moisture gathering at the corners, color draining from the faintly blushing cheeks. "Perhaps I should go. I-"
"Oh don't be ridiculous dear!" Grendala's shoulder almost sent Mattran sprawling, completely interrupting his thoughts as she shoved him out of the way. "We're all so very pleased to finally meet you! It's taken Nathiel forever to find the right one to settle down with-" A loud chorus of laughter interrupted her announcement. "And we already paid for the catering besides! Come in! Nathiel's been keeping us all in suspense!"
She wasn't kidding about the suspense, Mattran thought somewhat sourly. It wasn't that he hadn't had his suspicions, but it was another thing entirely to have them all but confirmed. The question was, how far would the Ambassador be willing to go to keep his son from Nathiel? He hadn't resorted to violence yet, but even without that, someone in his position could still make life very difficult for someone he found disfavor with.
Whether it be one mercenary, or a whole guild full of them.
Mattran's thoughts went back to the dossier on his desk even as another part of his mind picked up the way Nathiel seemed instinctively oriented on the Dellani boy as they walked and provided further verification of his own hypothesis that the relationship between the two of them wasn't just serious, but very serious.
And they'd met maybe two months ago?
Under ordinary circumstances, Mattran would have said it was too early to tell, but in Nathiel's case, the circumstances were already certifiably extraordinary.
Which was why Mattran was hesitating.
Nathiel and his other employees weren't quite children to him, but he did feel a sort of paternal protectiveness towards them. These were people he worked with and depended on, and who depended on him to make sound decisions.
So he wasn't quite as inclined as he might have been otherwise to tell Nathiel to drop the Dellani boy like a politically hot potato before his papa got them all thrown into prison.
Then too, there was the fact that Tybalt Dellani hadn't done exactly that already.
Mattran stared at the gray stone floor he'd had washed only this morning just for the occasion (because the Light only knew when it had been washed last) and frowned.
Grendala found him still standing there five minutes later.
"He's almost too sweet," she said plainly. "I don't think he's going to be able to handle Nathiel. I also don't think Nathiel would let even an angry flight of dragons come between them." There was a moment of silence. "Dear. Come join the rest of us."
"Can't." Mattran grunted and turned towards his office to get a certain dossier. "I have to go to the Darnassian Embassy."
Grendala's eyes narrowed. "The business from yesterday?"
Mattran nodded absently. Strong hands latched onto his collar and the seat of his pants, there was a grunt, and suddenly he was parallel with the ceiling, no longer moving under his own power.
"Party first dear. Business later," Grendala said below him.
Mattran let out a sigh. "Yes dear."
Ж
"Don't worry about the boss," the big night elf with the silver eyes and azure hair said with a grin, tapping the side of his head. "He forgets he's talking to you sometimes and starts thinking, and then there's just no stopping him." He held out a glass of something, probably wine.
Ambryn accepted it and smiled gratefully at . . . Reiyad, wasn't it? "I really appreciate your hospitality," he said warmly.
"So how did the two of you meet?" It was the draenei shamaness, Kuma, the one with the pretty hair. Ambryn liked her already.
"He saved my life." Ambryn bit his bottom lip. "I was on my way home from getting groceries for dinner and . . ."
"And that's one troll that won't be coming back for seconds." Nathiel was only a little ways away, and he slid his arm around Ambryn, noting the way his shoulders had tensed ever so slightly. Kuma seemed to understand, because she quickly changed the subject.
"So you two've been seeing each other for . . .?"
"Almost two months now," Nathiel said with a broad grin, hand resting on Ambryn's hip. He looked down into those jade eyes, and suddenly had a burning desire to kiss him again. He was starting to lower his head when heard Mohirn chuckle, and glanced around to see a number of his comrades regarding him with knowing looks, smiles on their faces. He gave them a broad, unapologetic grin.
Ambryn blushed all over again, and Nathiel watched the color rise into his cheeks, tracing one with the tip of his finger, getting a warm smile in return.
"Excuse me."
Nathiel turned, and suppressed a grimace at the sight of his employer, because Ambryn obviously wasn't equipped to deal with the gnome's plainspoken manner.
"Sorry for making you feel awkward."
The second time he opened his mouth, there was just as much silence, this time slightly surprised.
Ambryn blinked, clearly startled. "No, I mean, you couldn't have known-"
"I had my suspicions." Mattran cut him off. "But it doesn't matter." He held out his arms in a welcoming gesture. "We are glad to have you here, and we hope Nathiel will bring you back." He glanced around, sharp eyes blinking. "Now where's the food?"
Ж
"Mattran can be a little . . ." Nathiel trailed off as they walked around the street corner. It was getting on towards evening, the sun already behind the rooftops, streaking the sky with bright gold and orange and pale purple.
"Blunt?" Ambryn smiled wanly up at him and shook his head. "He has a right to know. It's prudent for him to be fully aware of just who he has under his roof, especially when it could have unpleasant consequences."
Nathiel stopped and blinked. "Because you're out of favor with your father?"
"Honestly, that's not really new. It's just . . . official now." Ambryn's smile failed.
Nathiel wrapped his arms around Ambryn and pulled him close, just holding him, and felt Ambryn relax against him.
"Nathiel?"
"Hmm?"
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
Nathiel grinned and lowered his head, meeting Ambryn's lips with his own. "I was kind of looking forward to it," he murmured huskily.
Ж
Author's Post-Script Notes:
Well, I know a lot of you were waiting for Nathiel and Ambryn to finally hook up. I honestly debated how detailed I actually wanted it to be, but someone's bedroom antics tell you a little more about their personality and . . . oh who the hell am I kidding? After nine chapters, it wouldn't have been satisfying to just say "they made love."
If any of this felt as obligatory to the rest of you as it did to me, my apologies. Rest assured we're on the way to the next interesting part, but we have to actually get through the other stuff first.
I leave you with my customary request for constructive criticism and ideas where I can improve my writing. Help me be a better writer, and I'll give you better stuff to read.