Page 23

Chapter Twenty-Two

Korik

They had been hunkered down in the cave for a few hours, and Korik was filled with regret at ever having agreed to travel with Varen on this ridiculous mission. He could have been warm and safe in his own home right now, yet here he was: just a few uncomfortable feet away from the elf, with nothing to do and nothing to say, for an indeterminate length of time. Death might have been a better option.

Varen had tried to talk with him at first, and Korik had gone along with it for a little while; but he only had so many things to say, and eventually the conversation had trailed off. Then Varen had busied himself with adjusting and re-adjusting his bedroll, which he was now sitting on, humming softly to himself as he brushed his hair. Korik sat on his own bedroll, and despite his best efforts not to stare, was mostly watching Varen.

The elf paid him no mind, though, as he set down his comb and braided his hair. It was a style of braid Korik had only ever seen elves wear–starting at his crown, but pulling all his hair back as the braid traveled down, leaving no loose pieces. His fingers deftly pulled all the strands into the motion, while still holding the braid itself tightly. Each weft was incorporated into the length and pulled flush against his skull until it reached the nape of his neck, where it was all pulled into one braid that he quickly completed. That he could do such a careful, even plait without a mirror was rather impressive in its own way.

They had nothing to do but talk, and he had been trying to push himself lately, so he forced himself to ask, “How do you do that?”

“Hm?” Varen asked, looking over at him in surprise. “What, this?”

“That… style of braid,” Korik said, already feeling self-conscious. “I haven’t seen it before.”

Varen grinned. “They do call it an elven braid, you know. Just keeps everything nice and compact. I figured this would be the best way to keep it clean and out of my face, since we don’t exactly know how long we’ll be stuck in here.”

“I see,” Korik said. But he knew that such a remark alone wouldn’t keep the conversation going. He had to get better at talking when they had nothing else to do. “It’s not like a bath, but we could always just, you know... magic ourselves clean.”

Varen chuckled, then wrinkled his nose. “I know. That’s a last resort, though. I hate using magic instead of a bath. Always leaves my skin feeling itchy.”

“You just have to be gentler about it,” Korik replied, and Varen grinned again.

“Maybe you can show me how,” he replied. Korik nodded, feeling heat rising in his face, as he tried to think of how to respond. But then Varen added, “I can show you how to do this kind of braid, if you’d like. Or I can braid it for you, for now.”

His hair had been blown all over his face earlier, he thought. If he needed it out of his eyes, he usually tied it back in a simple ponytail, but mostly he just left it loose. Even when it was in his face, he often preferred it that way, like it was an extra layer of separation between him and the rest of the world.

But it was an interesting-looking braid, and it was kind of Varen to offer, so he nodded despite his trepidation. “I... Yes. Please. Thank you.”

Varen’s smirk softened into a more genuine smile, and he gestured for Korik to come sit before him. He was too tall to stand up straight anywhere in the cave, so he carefully crossed the space between them and sat cross-legged in front of Varen, facing away from him.

“I’ll brush your hair, too. I saw how the wind was messing it up,” Varen said, his voice low and soft. It sent a shiver running down Korik’s spine. But it was just because they were closer now, only inches apart from each other. Right?

He nearly flinched at the feeling of the comb tugging at his hair. Varen started brushing through, near the ends, working out the knots, and moving up closer to his scalp. Korik couldn’t remember the last time anyone might have touched his hair. Maybe as a child.

When the comb brushed against the nape of his neck, Korik had to stifle the low sound that threatened to rumble up from his chest. It felt—well, good , sending soft tingles racing up and down his spine with each brushstroke. He closed his eyes, clamping his mouth shut tight. Despite his embarrassment, he didn’t pull away.

When the comb ran smoothly through the length of his hair from root to end, Varen put the comb aside and used his fingers to gather three sections at the crown of Korik’s head.

“It can be a little tricky to figure out the right thickness of each section and when to add them,” Varen remarked, as he started to braid. “But it’s simple once you get the hang of it. I’ll just do it for you now, but I can teach you to do it yourself next time.”

Korik nodded, then froze, feeling the motion pull his hair out of Varen’s hands. But the elf only laughed and started again, the light touch of his fingers in Korik’s hair like tiny thrills of electricity. Korik didn’t trust himself to speak, so he said nothing, and remained motionless as Varen set about braiding his hair.

The elf’s hand rested for a moment on the nape of his neck, the touch lingering for a brief second—more than enough to send Korik’s heart racing. Then Varen’s fingers smoothed the underside of Korik’s hair to gather it all neatly, and the sensation was utter bliss. His hand lingered at the nape of Korik’s neck again, but this time the touch was so welcome that Korik couldn’t bring himself to wonder why the elf was moving so slowly, when he had braided his own hair so quickly.

Varen’s fingers brushed through first one side of his skull, then the other, braiding in careful, even sections. Even when he pulled the sections tight to keep the braid firm, the tugging on Korik’s scalp wasn’t painful—hadn’t it been painful when his hair had been braided or tied as a child? The entire process seemed to go on far longer than it had taken when he was watching Varen, yet was still over all too soon.

“Korik,” Varen said, his voice soft. “Look at me.”

Korik turned. They looked at each other for a moment, then Varen smiled—Korik flushed and glanced away, embarrassed to have so readily obeyed.

“It suits you,” Varen said, a little less softly now. “I wish I had a mirror so you could see.”

Korik cleared his throat, pulling the long braid over his shoulder to look at it. Only being able to see the length, it didn’t look any different from a regular braid; but he tried to imagine how it would look running down his skull, the same woven pattern Varen now wore. He thought it looked interesting enough on the elf, so he supposed it would be the same on him. “I trust your judgment.”

Looking down, he realized that he’d become humiliatingly hard in his trousers, making his face burn even hotter. What was wrong with him? Was he really so pathetic that just a few moments of contact with his hair was enough to cause such a reaction? Gods, he hoped Varen hadn’t noticed.

He ran one hand down the length of the braid as he tried to distract himself and think of anything else that might make it go down. The length of the braid ended right at the bottom of his ribs. His hair had gotten long—he couldn’t quite remember when he’d last had it trimmed. For a moment, they were both silent, then realizing his silence might have been suspicious, Korik added shakily, “Thank you.”

He heard Varen let out a small chuckle behind him. “My pleasure. I hope you like it.”

Korik nodded again—his cock jumped at Varen’s low voice so close to him, and he knew he would never calm down until they had more space apart. So he shuffled back over to his own bedroll, while keeping his back to the elf. He somehow knew that if Varen met his eyes, his face would burst into flame and the elf would immediately know just what sort of reaction he’d elicited in Korik. As he settled onto his bedroll, he tried to tug surreptitiously at his trousers to hide his arousal.

For a few minutes, they were both silent. Korik could hear Varen shuffling around and could sense his movements in their enclosed space; but he still couldn’t bring himself to look at the elf. Finally, Varen’s voice came out as a sigh.

“I suppose I’ll try and sleep,” he said. “We’ve nothing else to do now.”

“Right,” Korik agreed.

“Well,” Varen said. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight,” Korik said.

He laid awake in the dim cave for a long time, staring up at the low ceiling. It felt too early to sleep, but Varen had a point; there wasn’t much else for them to do but wait. He felt acutely aware of Varen’s presence—the elf felt so close, even though they were on opposite sides of the little den with several feet between them. The soft sound of his breaths, slow and even, felt right next to Korik’s ears. For a long while, that was all he could hear, until the sound of the wind picking up outside drowned it out.

Though it didn’t feel like it would ever come, he must have fallen asleep. He awoke to Varen’s voice coming through the darkness.

“Korik?” the elf said, and Korik shot up into wakefulness, startled.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, disoriented. The wind outside was howling, and the cave was completely dark. He summoned a tiny spark of fire to illuminate the space; across from him, Varen winced in the light.

“It’s freezing,” Varen said. Now that Korik could see him, he could tell that the elf was shivering. The warmth of the flame in his hand made Korik suddenly aware of how icy cold the rest of the surrounding air was. “Can we... Is it alright if I lay closer to you? Body heat and all that.”

Korik felt himself flush. It was only practical, of course. The closer they were to each other, the warmer they would be. The warming charm on the stones could only do so much to ward off the chill of the storm, so if they could share body heat... The thought still made him nearly sick with embarrassment, but he didn’t want Varen to suffer unnecessarily, either.

“Alright,” he agreed, despite the heat rising in his face as he said it. “Come closer. We can... Share a blanket. If you want.”

“Please,” Varen agreed quickly. He must have been truly cold, Korik thought, because he wasn’t teasing or smirking smugly over at him—no, he sounded genuinely relieved. Korik watched as the elf shuffled out of his bedroll, still wrapped in his heavy cloak, and pulled it over until they were side by side.

His skin prickled with how close their bodies were as Varen laid down beside him; but he ignored that as he draped his blanket over the both of them. Since he was awake, he reached over to touch each of the stones that he had set up to keep them warm, filling them with magic until they heated back up. When they were hot to the touch, he pushed a few closer to Varen. He could feel the elf still shivering under the blankets. Varen’s breaths came out in soft shudders, but were slowly calming into a more even rhythm.

They were impossibly close, Korik thought, as he tried to settle back down. He kept his eyes squeezed closed as he lay rigidly on his back, refusing to let his head turn toward Varen; but he could still feel the elf’s presence as acutely as if they were touching each other.

He had always been uncomfortable with others touching him. He didn’t much like touching other people, either; but healing was so hands-on that he’d long been desensitized to that discomfort. The longer he lay there, though, the more he realized his heightened awareness of Varen’s presence didn’t feel like that discomfort at all. No, it felt more like resisting something that pulled at him—as if his body wanted to roll over and be flush against Varen’s, to close the small space between them.

Humiliation flooded him, making his stomach clench. What was wrong with him? He had felt those sorts of urges before, of course; but he hadn’t wanted anyone in that way in years, decades maybe. Why now? Why him ? Was it just because they were here, like this, with no one else? If he had gone home to Drol Kuggradh, instead of joining him on this mission, would he have ever given Varen a second thought?

He should have hated this—and maybe some small part of him did. But why did the rest of him want to curl up closer to Varen, to keep him warm with his own bigger body?

“Korik,” Varen murmured, his voice soft and tired now. “I can hear you breathing like you’re being chased by wolves. I can move if you want.”

“No, I...” Korik stammered, his voice wavering. What could he say? “It makes me—nervous. To have anyone this close. But I want you to stay warm. Both of us. I’ll... I’ll be okay.”

The words were stilted and forced and not entirely true, but seemed to convince the elf well enough. “I feel warmer already. Thank you.”

It was so confusing how different the elf could be around him. Part of Korik still expected the vain, callous version of Varen that he had first met to jump out at any time. But he knew that wasn’t fair; the longer they traveled together, the more he was convinced that was all a mask the elf wore for his own benefit, or at least a significant exaggeration of his own natural disposition. But even recently, though much improved, he would hesitate to say Varen was nice .

Yet this was genuine gratitude in the elf’s voice now, perhaps tempered by desperation and the sort of raw earnestness that only came out in the middle of the night. It assuaged some of his nerves, though he wondered how much of that would still be there come the morning, whenever that was.

He tried to focus on the mean, inconsiderate, rude, haughty version of Varen still so clear in his memory, convincing himself that person would return as soon as they were out of danger. Somehow, it didn’t relieve any of the longing that tugged at his chest.

Despite all the worries rattling around in his head, Korik must have eventually fallen asleep again. When he woke, he had turned toward Varen in his sleep; and the elf had curled toward him too, seeking warmth. Varen’s head was tucked to nestle in the hollow beneath Korik’s chin, and Korik’s arm was draped over him atop the blanket.

Shame flooded him as he slowly pulled his arm away. With any luck, the elf had also only moved in his sleep and would remain entirely unaware of what had happened.

“Don’t,” Varen said faintly, as Korik realized with horror that the elf was already awake. “You’re warm.”

“I—” Korik stammered, frozen in place. “I’m—I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Varen said. “It’s nice.”

After a beat, Korik gingerly let his arm sink back down until it rested on Varen’s shoulders. His heart was pounding a staccato rhythm in his chest as they lay there in silence. What was happening? How had they ended up like this? Why was Varen being so... whatever this was?

As if sensing the thought, Varen shuffled even closer, barely an inch separating their bodies now.

“You know,” the elf said softly, his voice half-muffled amidst the blankets. “If you wanted to, we could... keep warm and entertain ourselves at the same time.”

Korik’s head was reeling. He’d barely woken up, and Varen was... what? He couldn’t really be asking what Korik thought he was, could he? Since they first met, Varen had seemed to barely tolerate him. There was no way the elf would be coming on to him now.

“I don’t—I don’t understand,” Korik finally answered.

Varen propped himself up on his arms, the long braid falling over his shoulder. A few pieces of hair near his face had come loose and draped along his cheekbones as he tilted his head, looking down at Korik with an unreadable expression. A faint smile played at his lips, eyes narrowing.

Like a predator sizing up its prey. The thought should have only terrified Korik more, but instead it made his cock jump to attention again.

“What else would two people stuck together in a storm do?” Varen asked, his voice low. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I want to. And... I see how you look at me. I think you want it, too.”

“I haven’t looked at you,” Korik protested. Had he looked at Varen too often, or too long, or both? He wasn’t trying to—but he had thought the elf was pretty from the first time they met, so maybe he did. Varen’s smirk widened.

“You don’t have to deny it,” he said. Korik only stared at him, heart pounding, thoughts frozen. After a few seconds, Varen raised an eyebrow, then prompted, “Is that a no, then?”

“I...” Korik stammered again, trailing off. It was as if his brain had overheated, and now he couldn’t formulate any kind of cohesive thought. Did he want to... be intimate with Varen? His cock certainly wanted to.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” Varen said, though he was sounding less sure now. “Just... for fun, you know. To pass the time. Release some tension.”

Still, Korik didn’t know what to say. But if his mind couldn’t come up with anything, maybe he could just follow the urges of his body.

“For fun,” Korik replied faintly, his voice coming out hoarse. “Okay.”

Varen blinked, as if surprised at his answer—then he grinned again, this time his eyes flickering up and down the length of Korik’s body, before landing on his face again.

“You’re sure?” he asked, already leaning closer.

“Yes,” Korik answered. He wasn’t sure, but the longer he went without saying ‘no’, the more he thought maybe this was something that he had wanted all along. The way Varen had made him flush and stammer so often—how the elf’s words had so often stung, yet he’d craved them all the same. Was that what he’d been feeling this whole time? Desire?

Before he could think on it too long, Varen was already moving. In one smooth, surprisingly strong movement, he’d pushed Korik over onto his back and straddled his waist. Korik froze, unsure what to do in response, or where to even put his hands. With a laugh, Varen guided his hands down, so that they were holding the elf’s waist.

“Been a while?” Varen murmured, unlacing his trousers. He paused, then added, “Not that I’m judging. It’s been a little while for me, too, to be honest.”

Korik nodded, swallowing down his nerves. The heat and pressure of Varen’s body pressing against him made him feel like he was going to burst. He watched, unable to focus on anything else, as Varen pulled out the thick length of his cock.

Suddenly it all made sense: why the elf was as haughty as he was, Korik thought. He was tall for an elf, and while Korik’s experience with elf cocks was minimal, he thought his size was proportionally as impressive. Heat flooded his face as Varen reached between his legs, gathering up the slick his arousal produced with his fingers, then spread it across his cock with a few long strokes.

“Your turn,” Varen said, reaching for the laces of Korik’s pants. Korik flinched—somehow he had been so preoccupied with Varen’s cock, he hadn’t thought about needing to get his own out, too. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed, but had always been self-conscious of his body: tall and lanky and weak, where so many other orcs were effortlessly strong. There was nothing wrong with his cock, he thought, but he still couldn’t stop the flood of heat that crept up his face as Varen untied his trousers.

The elf palmed the bulge of his erection through the cloth. Korik bit back a whimper at the contact, while Varen made a small, appreciative sound in the back of his throat. Then he tugged down the fabric, and Korik’s cock sprang free, jutting up in the space between them.

For a moment, they were both silent. Varen was by no means small, but Korik was bigger and thicker, which somehow felt more embarrassing. The warm pink tones of Varen’s cock were a deep contrast to the dusky green of his own.

“Gods,” Varen muttered. He gripped Korik at the base, making him gasp, and pulled his cock closer. Varen leaned forward a little, so that Korik’s cock pressed up against the elf’s stomach—like this, Korik’s length reached the bottom of Varen’s ribs.

Desire flooded him at the realization, as he imagined the haughty elf squirming and panting on top of him, struggling to take such an impossible length. As if reading his mind, Varen groaned.

“Not happening,” he breathed, shaking his head. “Nothing against you, of course, but, er—I think I might have to work up to something like that .”

Korik nodded, only slightly disappointed. Varen’s hand on his cock was very distracting, so it was hard to dwell too long on what he might be missing out on. No one had touched him in years, so feeling a hand other than his own, stroking up and down his length, was all he could focus on.

“I think you could take my cock very nicely, though,” Varen said, and Korik throbbed against the elf’s grip in response. He hadn’t considered it—it was the opposite of all the bawdy campfire songs about orcs and their elven conquests—but the thought of Varen fucking him felt almost like a relief to consider. He was so domineering in everything else, why wouldn’t he take the reins in this as well? “Oh, you like that idea, don’t you? I’d like that, too. You’d feel so good wrapped tight around me, wouldn’t you?”

Korik nodded again, unable to formulate the words, but knowing he wanted it. Varen rocked his hips, creating friction between their cocks pressed together in his hand—Korik groaned, then clamped his mouth shut.

“Here,” Varen said, squeezing them. “Use your hand, too. Grab around both of us.”

Korik encircled them both with his fist. Varen’s cock was warm and slick against his fingers, and the soft movements of his hips spread his slick against Korik’s length. They rocked together for a moment, the panting sound of their breaths and the smooth touch of skin moving against skin the only noise between them.

“If it wasn’t so damned cold,” Varen groaned, shaking his head. “I’d take all these layers off so you could touch more of me. So I could feel more of you . Feel how strong you really are under all this.”

He imagined Varen pushing up his tunic and the cotton undershirt beneath, running his deft fingers up the smooth planes of his abdomen, reaching upward for his chest, and brushing up against his nipples. He thought of doing the same to Varen, feeling the warmth of his skin, and how he would shudder at Korik’s touch, the sounds he would make—

“Fuck,” Korik gasped, heat pooling in the base of his belly. Had it really been so long that he was going to come after just a few minutes of this? All they’d done was push their cocks together and rut into their fists, and just imagining being able to do more was getting him right up to the edge.

“Don’t hold back,” Varen panted, moving faster now. “I want you to feel good. Fun, remember?”

It took only a few more thrusts up into their encircled hands for Korik’s orgasm to overtake him. He clamped his free hand to his mouth to stifle the breathy moan that escaped him as his cock pulsed—Varen only squeezed him harder, then let out a soft gasp as Korik came. Thick ropes of come shot up the length of his torso, splattering against his clothes and Varen’s.

“Gods, look at you,” Varen breathed. Then the elf’s other hand was cupping Korik’s balls, and he couldn’t stop the strangled noise rising in the back of his throat. The elf’s hands squeezed so gently, as if trying to milk out every drop, even as he was still coming. Korik’s head tipped back, as pleasure pulsed through him again and again, come dripping from him and pooling into a warm puddle on his belly. It felt like so much, too much—still it kept shooting in little spurts with each long, squeezing stroke of Varen’s hands.

“Please,” Korik whimpered, when the pleasure of Varen’s hands on him finally took on a too-sharp edge as his orgasm faded. The elf released his grip, and Korik leaned back in relief.

“Good?” Varen asked softly, and Korik nodded, eyes half-lidded. “Good.”

He sensed the tingle of magic as Varen cleaned him up, the warm mess vanishing with a wave of his hand. Then he was aware of Varen moving on top of him, shuffling forward—Varen’s hand touched his cheek, and he snapped his eyes open again.

“Come here and suck me off,” the elf said, as one hand gripped Korik’s tusk and tugged his head forward. He should have been shocked at the brazen action, angered that Varen would manhandle him so crudely; but he obeyed without question, letting the elf grip and guide him to the length of his straining cock. It was salty and earthy on his tongue. Varen groaned, his hips bucking, and Korik could feel the elf’s cock twitching in his mouth.

Varen grabbed his other tusk where it was pressed against the elf’s hip and used the leverage to fuck into Korik’s mouth. Korik moaned around him, eyes closing. Even as eagerly as Varen was thrusting into his mouth, there was no discomfort, as the elf’s cock couldn’t quite reach the back of his throat at this angle. Varen would love making him gag and choke, Korik thought, but he had at least a small scrap of pride left that their size difference was just enough to make it impossible.

“So warm,” Varen panted above him. “Fuck, it feels good.”

Gingerly, Korik placed one hand back on Varen’s hip, then let it drift a bit lower, squeezing lightly to encourage him. Silly as it seemed, even though the elf’s cock was in his mouth, he felt too nervous to just grab Varen’s ass outright. Still, he seemed to like it, letting out a soft sound of pleasure as he moved.

“I’m close,” Varen grunted, thrusting harder into Korik’s mouth and pulling at his tusks almost enough to hurt his jaw—right at the edge of pain. “Fuck, fuck—”

His cock pulsed in Korik’s mouth, flooding his tongue with the bitter taste of his spend. Korik swallowed on reflex, making Varen moan as he came. His hips gave a few more small, rocking thrusts as he spilled more come into Korik’s mouth. He wanted to feel it all, wanted to drink down everything Varen had to give him. He pressed his tongue harder against the underside of the elf’s cock, feeling the thick vein pulse with each movement.

Finally, Varen surrendered his grip on Korik’s tusks and carefully pulled away. Korik released him, cautious not to hurt him with his teeth or tusks. For a long moment, they remained motionless: Varen looking down at him as he panted, and Korik looking up to meet his gaze, despite how flushed his face felt.

He almost couldn’t believe what had just happened. If not for the cold air on his exposed skin, and the taste of Varen’s seed still in his mouth, he might have already thought that he’d dreamed the whole event. He had never done anything so reckless before. Was it just the extremity of their situation, or was it Varen who drove him to such acts?

Varen grinned, a breathy chuckle escaping him—the soft sound pulled Korik from his scattered thoughts, grounding him back in reality. It had truly happened. It wasn’t a dream.

“What did I tell you?” he panted, shuffling back so he was no longer straddling Korik. “Fun, right?”

Korik looked away, but could feel a faint smile threatening to spread across his face. “Right. Fun.”