Night Two
The background hum of the brothel this early in the evening, was to Angelil, like the sound of waves along a sandy beach. Muffled laughter, the sound of tankards landing heavily on wooden table tops, the chattering of his fellow whores as they sold their skills, all the humdrum helped his tired mind start to drift into sleep. Nights off where few and far between in The Body Emporium and the Blood Elf intended to enjoy his to the fullest.
His peace however was very short lived. Just as he had started to drift off into the land of dreams, the white noise became a whole lot louder as his door was flung open and in barged a gaggle of his fellow workers, all chatting excitedly. The door was slammed shut as the last one came in and, while he was still pulling himself up in bed, his eyes where assaulted by the flaring of matches as the lamps in his rooms where lit.
"What in the good name of the Sunwell is going on?!" Angalil's raised voice and tone of irritation was met with another round of giggles as men and women pottered around his room as if it was their own, picking threw his clothing and searching his dressers, talking amongst themselves like he wasn't even there.
"Oh stop your moanin' mon." His bed clothes where rather unceremoniously flung off of him by a Troll female who pulled the naked elf out of the bed by one arm, with all the airs of a long suffering mother.
"Amina!" he said as he was woman-handled out of his own damn bed!
"There be an Orc outside for ya." The troll said as she pushed and prodded him in the direction of the bathroom with thick long nailed fingers. Angelil looked about to give her a mouthful but she cut him off in a sing song voice. "From de Hoooold..."
Angelil promptly shut his mouth, which caused yet more twittering laughter from those around him. He simply gave them his most withering look and let himself be chivvied into his bathroom, closely followed by Amina and her brother who trailed behind.
"Zaljaf, get de bath filled double time, mon. Dere is only so much drink we can ply dat muscle head wid before he come marchin' up 'ere ta get his charge." Amina said with a shooing motion, her brother shaking his head and wandering off. Her attentions here turned back to Angelil with an expectant smile on her face and her hands resting on her hips.
"I don't know why you are looking at me like that, Amina, I really don't." Angelil said turning away from that look and grabbing a bottle of scented soap from the shelf, pulling out the cork to smell it. His nose was assaulted by the smell of rose petals. It was quickly corked with a look of revulsion. How on earth had that ended up in here?
"Ange, ye be actin' like de Warchief isn't askin' for ya. Again." The woman said with a laugh as steam started to fill the room. "Dis could be a goldmine for ya. Tink about it, if ya on special order for 'im ya untouchable. No more o' Fizzcort pushin' ya around." She ran her fingers threw bright pink dreadlocks looking at the ends of them as her voice dropped lower. "it be more dan some o' us can hope for."
Angelil turned with another long slender bottle in his hands. He handed it to Zenjaf, who took it silently and walked off to the bath, leaving the two of them in semi privacy. The Elf moved over to the troll woman and took both of her hands in his and squeezed them. "Two times in a man's bed doesn't make this a regular thing...but if it did then you can bet I wouldn't be leaving you behind."
The troll looked up with a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, Angelil had the decency to ignore the shine to her eyes before he was turned around and steered towards the bath. "Then ya betta get ya ass inta gear and make dat Orc want ya."
Angelil had never bathed so quickly in his life, then again he didn't normally do it with three pairs of hands. After he got dried off he walked back out into his room to find the others had be very busy, there where clothes laid out for him. Treescha seemed to have taken over the construction of his outfit this evening, the Orc woman stood with her arms folded barking orders at the others.
"No, put that smelly shit away! He's going to see the Warchief not some pretty painted Elf tart." she growled as one of the Draenei girls picked up a small bottle of strawberry oil. With a humphed it was slammed down on the dressing table followed by a pout. The Orc woman shook her head and pointed to a pair of orange silk pants with some sort of dark green pattern embroidered on them. Next to it was a plain green sash , much different to the last outfit he had worn.
"Thank you Treescha...and I shall remember the comment about Elf tarts." Angelil said as he pulled them on and tied the little strings at both hips to keep them up. The Orc punched his shoulder, lightly it had to be said, but then again even a light punch from an orc got your attention.
"It's not my fault all you elves look alike. Hard to tell what's a woman and what's a man." Treescha smirked even more when Angelil gave her a rude hand gesture. She grabbed the sash and wrapped it tightly around the waist of the pants to cover the laces and gave it a big fancy knot on his hip the last of the material hanging down in pleasing shape. "Now go and work what little charms you have."
He pressed a light kiss to her cheek and grabbed his cloak from the hanger by the door and headed out into the noise of the brothel now in full swing. He stood in front of one of the Kor'kron guard he recognised from the last visit, the one that had shown him to the Warchief the last time. He looked to be finishing his fourth pint of beer and gave the Blood Elf a critical look up before down he pushed himself up using the bar as leverage. Once he was upright her hooked a massive thumb in the direction of the door. "Move it."
The short trip to Grommash Hold passed in complete silence appart from the sounds of building. There was a lot of work still going on even at this time of night, hammering and banging and drilling filling the night air as the changes to the capital where being completed. When they reached the single door, the guard didn't even bother stopping and lead the elf right threw only coming to a halt at the bottom of the staircase. "You know where to go."
Angelil breezed past the Orc without a word, feeling the contempt roll off the Orc in almost tangible waves. Walking confidently up the steps, silk slippered feet that made barley a sound on the wood had him at the top in moments, back in the warm anti room of the Warchief's private quarters.
The fire pit was much more lively this time, flames dancing around a pile of smouldering logs, sending embers up to dance in the smoke. Garrosh came into view a moment or two later, stepping out of his bedroom rolling his shoulder with the cracking of stiff bones. The Orc noticed Angelil when the latter swung the cloak off his shoulders and placed it on a hook by the stairway.
The Warchief looked much the same as a few weeks ago, only now instead of clean brown-orange skin wrapped over all those muscles there where now a selection of dark black tattoos, they looked fresh and they suited him, curving all over his torso and chest, over his thick set shoulders, leading the Elf's eyes in mapping the Orc's body.
"You done staring at me?" The Orc said with amusement lacing his words as he walked over to his bear skin backed chair, landing on it heavily and leaning back with a few more protests from his bones.
"An artists work is made to be admired." Angelil said as he moved over to the beer keg, still in the corner of the room, and took down the tankard that was resting on top of it. He started to fill it without being told and Garrosh seemed pleased by the act but didn't see to fit to mention it. Instead he watched the Elf, taking in his clothing for this visit.
"This has nothing to do with art, this is for pride and honour." The beer was handed to him and downed almost in one go before being handed back. "Another."
"I see. You will have to educate me." Angelil said as he filled the tankard again and brought it to the Warchief. "I know very little in the subtle ways of Orcish culture...assuming you can do nuance as a race." There was a small smirk on his face when the Warchief looked up sharply and after a moment there was a snort of amusement
"That's funny coming from a race who couldn't get to the point if you nailed it to their foreheads." He threw his head back and drank down the beer in moments before throwing the tankard over his shoulder and hooking one arm around the elf's hips and tugging him onto his lap where Angelil took a moment to get comfortable.
"Only because the long words hurt your head too much and we have to take the time to dumb them down enough for you." the Elf said as he ran his fingers threw still damp red locks, an offhand lilt to his voice. This was all so much more relaxed than last time no awkward tension, no worry...which was why he was completely unprepared for a large hand grabbing him by the back of the hair and pulling him into a deep rough kiss dominated entirely by a large Orc tongue.
When they parted Angelil hummed with pleasure, not sure at what point he had closed his eyes he let them open again, treated to the smugly satisfied look on the Orcs face. Apparently it was very satisfying to watch a Blood Elf look like blissed out teenager instead of a gown man who had sex for a living.
"Watch your mouth, Elf." He growled softly "It will get you into trouble if your not careful."
"You like it when I talk back to you." Angelil said as he started to run curious fingers over the Orc's tattooed flesh. They followed along the patterns, wandering over marked and unmarked skin with interest. Where the ink had been pushed into the skin it seemed to be a little more raised than the rest, the sensitive pads of his fingers picking up the subtle difference. "Now weren't you supposed to be teaching me?"
The Orc watched the Elf's fingers wander over his arms before he spoke, still watching the careful exploration of his skin by talented fingers. "These where like the markings my father wore on his skin, when I ware them as he did I carry him with me in. The Tattooist ran out of ink before they could be finished, there is one more important part to be added and then it will be whole " His own hands moved to tap the red marks on the Elf's skin. "What about these?"
Angelil turned his head to look at his own shoulder and gave a slight shrug. "Not nearly as interesting I am afraid." he said softly "I was born with them, birth marks are not uncommon I was just unlucky enough to have particularly large ones. That is how I got my name as it happens, without a family to provide me with one the Orphanage called me Fireskin."
The Orc moved some deep ginger hair from the marks and started to inspect them, much like Angelil had been inspecting him. The elf leaned his head out of the way while battle worn fingers travelled the flat red marks that stained his otherwise pale skin, rough callouses raising goosebumps all over his body and a quiet hum escaping between lips.
"Control yourself." Garrosh said with a growl in the back of his throat as he continued his slow and gentle exploration of the markings on the Elf's shoulder and back, the other hand firmly tangled in ginger hair.
"That's your Job, Warchief." He muttered with a smirk, letting his eyes open hooded with pleasure. They where full of challenge and the Orc seemed pleased with the defiance, giving a deep throaty laugh as he wrapped both arms around the smaller male, who in turn rested his arms over broader, thicker shoulders.
"I could snap you like a dry branch if I wanted." Garrosh said as he squeezed a little, a slight reminder that this was perfectly true. It was thrilling to have so much power, so much raw strength behind every action and controlling himself enough not to act on it and crush the Elf. It was more thrilling still that Angelil knew it too.
"Now that would really ruin my night off..." He said with a theatrical sigh. "We don't get many of them and I was so looking forward to enjoying myself tonight." He shifted a little on the Orcs lap only to feel the muscles tense beneath him the mood suddenly thicker than before. He looked at Garrosh with curiosity, what had caused this so suddenly?
"Has any other touched you?" Garrosh asked, his tone strongly advised the elf against lying to him. Not that Angelil would have done so anyway, he knew Garrosh didn't want what other customers wanted from him. He shook his head in the negative.
"Mother, told Fizzcort I wasn't going to be put back on the floor until the bruises you left healed up and a doctor had seen me. I have been manning the bar for the past few weeks." he said. When he still saw suspicion in the Orcs fierce yellow gaze he reached around and took one of the large hands at his hips and brought it up to his throat. "If you think I am not being truthful...then punish me..." He felt the hand wrap around his slender neck in a light grip.
There was a long moment where nothing happened, the grip never tightened, orange-brown fist wrapped around pale throat feeling his pulse beat steady with every heartbeat, green eyes locked onto yellow as the tension in the air became almost a living thing...until all at once it broke as the Orc's hand slid along pale chest, over the ripple of light muscles back to it's original roost on the Elf's hip.
"Who is this Mother you speak of?" Garrosh eventually asked as the Elf slowly leaned back into the warmth of his larger body, thumbs slowly starting to work soothing circles at his hips as the Orc relaxed again. Garrosh seemed more settled but in himself he couldn't seem to place why the reaction had occurred in the first place.
"Mother Thursha, the madam of the house. Fizzcort might own The Body Emporium but he couldn't run the place to save his scraggly little neck. Little snotpile couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery. He employs Mother to look after the running, normally just drops by with a new girl or boy every now and then or with special orders." At the last two words the elf ran his flat palm against the Orc's hard chest.
"I fucking detest Goblins..." The orc spat in the fire as though the very word was like rot in his mouth. "Their uses are few but necessary."
"Mother, is trying to raise the funds to buy Fizzcort out, root him out with money." Angelil said as he watched the cracking flames in the slowly lowering firepit. "I don't think he will ever settle on a price though, he likes to have power over people. His family isn't the biggest, and out of them he is defiantly the runt of the litter."
Garrosh snorted in disgust and returned his attention the fire in front of them, the crackle of burning logs was all that filled the comfortable silence for a while as the Elf leaned against the Orc and the Orc held the Elf. It didn't last very long however as a smirk spread over the thick lips of the Warchief.
"So as it's your night off I assume your free." Garrosh said
"Fuck that, I'm charging you double." Angelil muttered in a sleepy voice, so relaxed he had almost fallen asleep on the large warm chest as he listened the thudding of the Orc's heart. The dangers of warmth and comfort. He was wide awake seconds later however when he was hoisted into the air and over the Orc's shoulder as the Warchief pulled his huge bulk out of the chair and stomped toward his bedroom. Elf draped over one massive shoulder like an old carpet.
"Well this is hardly dignified!" Angelil said only to have the Orc pat him on the ass with a chuckled and boot the door closed behind them before flinging the Elf onto the bed and giving him a swift look over.
"I like this outfit better, at least it looks somewhat like it belongs on a male." Garrosh said, hands already pulling at the ends of the elaborate looking knot at the Elf's hip, he had it undone in seconds and started unwrapping the males waist, moving the smaller body when he encountered an obstruction.
"You are the second person to question Elvish Gender tonight. I thought the lack of breasts might have been a big give away." Angelil sniggered and used the Orc's amorous untying to pull himself to his knees and start unwrapping his own gift for the evening. He had to thank whoever had suggested the Warchief of the Horde ware leather pants. Slim hands finding the laces by touch alone, as he found his mouth captured again and held hostage.
Angelil's hands finally managed to undo the laces after a little feeling around that seemed to draw growls of approval from the Orc he was helping undress. The laces at this own hips where a little too fiddly it seemed for large fingers to untangle with any real haste and so there was a sudden ripping sound as the strings where yanked and pulled the laces clean threw the holes in the material.
"I'll buy you new ones." the gruff statement cutting off the small complaint that was ready to fly from the Elf's lips as his clothing was ruined. Instead of saying anything at all Angelil took the liberation of his mouth as an advantage to move things along and moved down Garrosh's body, kissing as he went, hands pushing and pulling at the leather still in his way, freeing the object of his desire by the time he made it down to the right level, laying out on the bed.
He happily engulfed the member standing half proud in front of him, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks and reaping the glorious reward of hearing the Warchief of the Horde growl behind bared teeth, for him it was the same high Garrosh felt when he exerted his brute strength to gain an advantage.
Garrosh leaned forward, pushing his member into that warm, wet suction and reaching down to grab the hems of the silk pant legs still covering the Elf, Pulling them off Angelil's lower body rose with them and what landed on the furs of the bed was nothing but bare skin. Pleased for now with the view he retreated from the Elf's mouth and
allowed the smaller man to control his pleasure as he desired for the time being.
Now able to breath again Angelil pulled his head back and tugged on the Orc's hand, gesturing that he should sit down so they could actually be rid of the Orc's clothing entirely this time. Remembering with some amusement that last time they had been so eager in their coupling Garrosh hadn't manage to fully undress until after it was over. When the Orc obliged he pushed the pants of his thick legs and onto the floor. Satisfied Angelil returned to the task in hand.
Garrosh sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on large forearms to watch the show, those reddening lips getting more and more ruddy in colour as they tightened and relaxed around his now solid member, slim pale hands wrapping around the base and stroking in tandem what he currently didn't take into his mouth. The skill level was clear to anyone on the receiving end, and there came those thoughts again, those burning irritations like splinters under his skin. A large hand rested on the back of Angelil's head a tight grip on the top of his skull.
Angelil took this as encouragement and decided to go a little further down, a couple more inches of the turgid flesh vanishing inside suctioning heat, more grunting and a tighter hold still on his head as he let the head slide into his throat, years of service had long since killed his gag reflex. Above Garrosh was coming to a decision...what Angelil thought of as encouragement was fast becoming an act of possessiveness.
With his other hand the Warchief skimmed over the long light skinned body, following the natural curve till it reached the two tight buns of muscle and grabbed one cheek, kneading the flesh there in a grip not hard enough to bruise but enough to make the mouth around him vibrate with the pleasured moan such stimulation brought with it. The vibrations made Garrosh shiver and pull the head off him swiftly, any more of that and he would finish the first round far too soon.
"Lay back on the bed." He said gruffly and waited for the Elf to comply with his order which he did with a great deal of haste and lay back against the pillow, hooded gaze and a languid but confident smile gracing his red lips, a few stands of his now dishevelled hair falling over the glowing green orbs. "Did you stretch yourself out before you came?"
"Night off remember, I wasn't given enough notice." Angelil said, hoping this wouldn't be a problem. The comment was greeted with a grin and a grunt of approval. He was only slightly put out when the orc left the bed to hunt around in a set of rough looking draws. A moment or two and he was back with a small capped bottle of oil. Laying on his stomach on the bed Garrosh put the oil down on the furs and gabbed the Elf's pale ankles and pulled, making the Elf scoot closer.
Angelil watched with interest, pushing himself up onto his elbows as the Orc uncapped the oil and spread it over one of his large fingers, he watched between spread legs as Garrosh ran the finger sensually between his cheeks till he reached the puckered hole where he stopped and added a little pressure, circling the entrance to the Elf's body slowly. Angelil moaned softly and let himself fall back on the bed, eyes closed and arms out stretched. "Fuck..."
Garrosh smirked at the expletive and continued to work his large thick finger into the Elf bit by bit, marvelling at the tightness of him as he slide further in. The change that came over the Elf too was almost addictive to behold, as he slowly stretched him it became apparent he was completely under Garrosh's control, the smallest movement could cause the lithe body to jerk or tighten, force air out of the lungs in a long sigh or drag it back in with a tortured gasp.
Angelil was a mess by the time Garrosh had inserted a second finger inside him, arms no longer splayed out to his side, one had wandered down his body to tease his slightly wilting cock to help him threw the burning shots of pain that naturally came with the stretching of his body, the other was thrown over his eyes to stop himself looking down at a sight so erotic he might loose his control.
"Look at me." The tone was that was an order, laced with pure lust.
Angelil took a shaking breath and pulled the arm from his eyes and looked down at the Orc between his thighs and had to hold back a shudder of desire as he found himself pinned by a fiery yellow gaze. He felt the fingers leave him, sliding out of his body and leaving him empty and hollow. Garrosh moved his hand down to his own manhood and used more oil to coat himself.
Moving he hovered his larger body over the Elf, who automatically hooked his legs over the Orc's hips, eyes still pinned to the Warfchief's own as they came face to face again. He could feel the Orc's shaft already pressing against him, trying to get inside and fill him once more and it sent a thrill along his nerves like lightning.
"Keep your eyes on me...do not look away." Garrosh's tone was full of quiet command. Angelil wasn't about to argue but it was hard to comply when he felt his body give way. His cry was muffled by his lip as he bit down, the shaft was far larger and thicker than the fingers had been and the burn was like fire against his sensitive skin...but threw it all he remained wide eyed, locking his gaze onto the Warchief as promised.
The sense of power that washed over Garrosh at seeing what was happening to the Elf below him was like a drug, every tiny movement of the handsome face, as he slowly and surly slid home. He knew in that very moment that owned Angelil, completely, that no other would give him what he was giving him now. No other would ever see this again but him alone.
As he fully seated himself inside the Elf he smelt the tang of iron and blood, taking his eyes away from the Elf's fiery green gaze for the first time since he had started his entry. Looking down at the lip the Elf had between his teeth he noticed a trickle of dark red running from a slice in the tender skin, fat red droplets escaping threw the gap. Leaning down he licked it clean and kissed the Elf deeply, sucking on his bottom lip.
Angelil in turn wrapped his arms around the Orc's neck and held on as he felt Garrosh start to move his hips slowly, shallow thrusts to start with, the burning still present but slowly starting to fade as he go used to the intrusion, pleasure building behind the pain until they started to blend into one. He pulled away from the kiss and groaned into the Orc's pointed ear before latching onto the lobe with his teeth and biting down enough to cause a sharp stinging pain.
From that moment on the gentle thrusts where abandoned. Snapping his hips back and forth Garrosh put more of hus brute strength into each thrust, ramming himself in and out of the tight heat his companion provided him, supporting himself on his forearms as he took his pleasure from the willing body curling itself around him from beneath. Every so often he would hit that particular spot inside the Elf that made the slim, muscular body tighten like a bowstring and the pleasure intensified ten fold for a moment before he relaxed.
Angelil was getting his wish, Garrosh was not as brutal as he could be but he was not holding back for fear the Elf below him would shatter. The rough thrusts where making his whole body run from one extreme to the other, one moment he was boneless the next Garrosh would do something so good he felt like his body was trying to pull him into a ball.
When Garrosh pulled out of him he almost screamed with frustration at the stimulation being taken away from him so suddenly, but he was being manhandled onto his hands and knees by large hands, careful not to crush his bones in the heat of desperation. Angelil helped where he could, but he was sure that his body would crumble before long and fall back to the bed. Garrosh was over him in an instant, broad warm chest against his back and one arm wrapped around him to help him keep the position. He felt himself filled again, the new angle adding more depth to the trusts.
"Ah! G-Garrosh!" The Warchiefs name slipped from his abused lips before he could stop it, though when it felt so good he could hardly be blamed, his brain might as well be several pounds of stake for all the good it was doing him, filled with nothing but the red mists of lust.
"Say it again..." The growl that escaped the Orc would have been enough to turn a warriors blood cold on a battlefield but here in the bedroom, in this position it made Angelil's blood run all the hotter.
"Garrosh." He breathed the name on the end of a groan as the Orc gave a particularly hard thrust into him from behind making his body curl from the inside out as he felt firecrackers go off down his spine, stimulation wreaking havoc on his body and making nerves fire all over his body.
"Again." Garrosh couldn't help but crave the sound of the elf saying his name. The sound of the wanton, needy moans was hot enough but to hear one of them turned into his name, like a plea, was like fire in his veins. As the elf complied and said his name again he found himself demanding it over and over, louder, punctuating the demand with harder and harder thrusts as he started to feel the ultimate pleasure close in on him.
Angelil was sure he was going to die. Nothing could feel this good and not be a near death experience. The sounds he was coming out with would normally have him cringe like something a virgin might come out with but instead they where leaking out of him like blood from a wound. Shouting the name of the Warchief as he felt his body filled over and over again. Quite without his permission his body decided that he had reached his limit and he groaned out the Orc's name again as his orgasm hit him.
Garrosh felt the body below him become almost unbearably tight and heard the strangled way his name came out of those red lips and couldn't hold back any longer. Gripping the body under him he started to pound the Elf harder than ever before, the smaller male's moans renewed as his over-sensitised body was hounded by jolts of almost mind numbing pleasure.
"Say! My! Name!" Garrosh bellowed the order loudly as he reached his own orgasm just as the Elf gasp out his name one last time, more like a whisper than a shout, he fell over the edge of pleasure and hunched over the smaller male with his arm wrapped tightly around the Elf as he finished, having just enough mind to roll to the side so as not to land on his bed partner.
Heavy breathing predominated the room as they both slowly caught their breaths again after the burst of physical exertion. Angelil slowly felt his body stop shaking, the tremble in his limbs only minor as he pushed himself in the direction of the orc and flung an arm over the muscular torso and dropped his head onto hard pectorals. If the orc didn't want to cuddle he could always push him off.
Garrosh looked down at the top of the Elf's head and smirked softly, letting him lay there cuddled close. His large hand ran up and down the slightly sweat slicked back as they both continued to enjoy the after glow and drag enough air back into their lungs to stop the panting.
It was an hour later when Angelil woke up, head still pillowed on the larger warm body, at some point the furs had been pulled over them. He slowly turned his head to look into the face of the Warchief, eyes closed, face placid as he slept soundly in his own bed with the Blood Elf curled around him. Angelil couldn't even remember feeling tired. Speaking of feeling, one of his arms was dead.
The Elf moved, carefully, with the hopes of not waking the Orc pressing a light kiss over one pectoral muscle he rolled so that he could get some feeling back in the arm, but before he could get too far away, Garrosh rolled over onto his side and dragged the Elf back into the curve of his body, resting his ample chin on top of the mop of ginger-red hair with a sigh threw his nose ring.
"Don't even think about going anywhere." The Orc grumbled.
"Wasn't going to." The Elf whispered as he wriggled the pins and needles out of his finger tips. "You owe me double remember."
There was huff of amusement "Go back to sleep."
Angelil didn't need telling twice, eyes already drifting closed.