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It was the first day of the Argent Tournament, an event in Northrend to prepare warriors from all over Azeroth for the Raid on Icecrown Citadel. It was supposedly a safe place to be; none were allowed to fight unless in the colosseum and approved by Highlord Tirion Fordring. Nonetheless there was tension in the air, especially after a demon had been summoned without proper control. Garrosh rolled his eyes, standing beside his warchief Thrall.
“What a pathetic creature.”
Thrall sighed and placed a large hand on Garrosh’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. That gnome probably had no idea what he was doing.”
“Good riddance.” Garrosh was about to snort in derision when his breath cut off. Directly opposite him, King Varian Wrynn was staring at him with utter hatred in his eyes. Again.
“What’s the matter? Upset that your little plan failed?”
As Thrall facepalmed, Varian reared up with a look of utter shock.
“What plan?”
“That gnome of yours summoned a demon to kill a strong Horde warrior! You are a weak, cheating bastard.” Garrosh’s lips curled around his tusks in a fearsome grin. “Nyeh.”
Varian wrenched his arm away from Jaina’s grasp as she tried to calm him, his thick eyebrows scrunched firmly down.
“Our honor has been besmirched!” He jabbed his finger at Garrosh accusingly, then looked to the Highlord for justice. “They make wild claims and false accusations against us. I demand justice! Allow my champions to fight in place of your knights, Tirion. We challenge the Horde!”
Tirion sighed. There was no reasoning with the hot-blooded King sometimes.
“Very well, I will allow it. Fight with honor!”
As knights of the Alliance came forth with a healer in the back, Varian was foaming at the mouth with bloodlust.
“Fight for the glory of the Alliance, heroes! Honor your king and your people!”
Fifteen minutes passed.
“I… can’t believe it!” Varian growled as he witnessed the bodies being dragged away. “One Orc killed them all?” The sound of Garrosh laughing was louder than all the Horde cheering together. “Urgh!”
“Well, you know how they are.” Jaina smirked a little but did not let Varian see. “Physically built stronger than us.”
Varian gave her such a scathing look that she felt the urge to reapply her makeup. His eyes were like acid upon her skin.
When everyone quietened down, Tirion congratulated the Horde warrior and wrapped up the tournament for the day. Varian felt this loss personally, for he had challenged the Horde and lost. But he would not let Garrosh see his disappointment. After Varian threw a few biting remarks across the colosseum like a petulant child screaming in a classroom, Garrosh had forgotten victory in favour of rage. Varian was the smug one now and flounced off with Jaina beside him, eager to feel the snow beneath his boots and breathe air free of Alliance-scented blood.
-
Outside, Garrosh was fuming.
“Did you hear what he said?” He growled at Thrall, who was fingering the beads around his neck uneasily.
“Yes, Garrosh. I’m sure the whole arena did. But it was a victory for the Horde, so you shouldn’t take his words to heart.”
“Rrrrgh!” Grinding his teeth together, Garrosh balled his hands into fists. He’d never been able to fully control his rage, especially when that scrunch-faced human King was around. “That stupid… fucking… potato…”
“Garrosh.” Thrall looked at him with the ultimate disapproving-warchief look. “Just calm down. You know what will happen if you break the armstice.”
“Nng! But I want to wring his skinny little neck! How dare he insult the Horde?” Varian always mocked the Horde for being comprised of ‘monsters’, actual sentient beings capable of compassion and mercy that were not human. “That arrogant, racist piece of shit!” As he ranted and raved in Orcish, Thrall saw a bunch of people crossing the snow a short distance behind Garrosh. He held his breath.
‘Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t…’
Garrosh saw where Thrall’s eyes were going and turned. The moment he saw Varian, he roared.
“YOU!!!”
Varian actually jumped and clenched his asscheeks to avoid shitting himself. ‘Gah! Why do those greenskinned fuckers have to be so loud?’ As his guards formed a shield wall before him, he gripped Jaina’s hand and peeked over the man standing in front of him. ‘…Ah, but this one isn’t green. Shit.’ Garrosh was storming towards him and Thrall had some heals ready just in case he really snapped.
Varian pushed his way out of the shield wall, leaving Jaina to be protected while he went to face Garrosh. Holding his head high, he squared his shoulders and sneered his handsome face into a vision of pure disgust.
“What do you want, Hellscream?”
“I want to know something.” Garrosh loomed over the King, yet Varian looked entirely undaunted. “Is it possible for you petty humans to lose a battle and not be whiny cunts afterwards?”
Varian balked. “Did you just call me a cunt?”
“I bloody well did.” Garrosh snorted. “What are you going to do about it?” He began to circle Varian, baring his sharp teeth. “You going to fight me? Eh? Or are you too scared? Scared I’ll snap your puny neck in half?”
“I prefer fighting creatures with intelligence, like wild bears.” Varian folded his arms, and just for the hell of it bared his teeth too. Garrosh reacted on instinct upon seeing this and jerked forwards, hissing while scraping his tusks against his upper teeth. He was salivating with anticipation, his rage bubbling so hot that his breath was like boiling steam. That, and he’d eaten something two hours ago that Varian would never have poked a stick at. Varian recoiled unconsciously and took a step back just to avoid having Garrosh touch him.
“I’ll fucking bury you.” Garrosh whispered, “And see you rise the day you see my people as, well, people.”
“How poetic.” Varian sniffed, the wrinkles between his brows deepening as his face continued to resemble a misused paper bag. “But you’ll have to kill me first.”
“The second we get out of here… Hey! Get back here!” Garrosh was barely controlling himself, for he knew the second he laid hands upon Varian there would be more arrows in his body than in a night-elven quiver. But the King did not listen to him and walked back towards the shield wall where his guards were waiting. He turned.
“Suck my cock, monster.” And then he disappeared, shields and feet shuffling away at high speed. His smirk spread to all corners of his face as he heard Garrosh emit the famous Hellscream, high pitched and agonized. ‘Top kek.’
~
“I’m proud of you.” Thrall ran his fingers through Garrosh’s unbound hair, combing knots out of the dark mass. “You managed to have a discussion with your enemy and you didn’t kill him.”
“I wanted to.” Garrosh was brooding, and Thrall knew it from the sullen tone in his voice. “Ugh…”
“It’s over and done with. Just forget about his words, for they are meaningless without action.”
“You know I won’t rest until he sees the Horde as more than just monsters.”
“Oh, Garrosh. He’s about as racist as they come; most humans are like that. You have to let it go.”
Garrosh sighed. “I want to fight him.”
“But you will kill him.”
“What if I don’t?” Garrosh turned, facing Thrall and his slightly glowing hands. “What if I beat him to an inch of his life and show him mercy, that very same thing he thinks we’re incapable of?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re too strong for your own good, you know?” Thrall reached for Garrosh’s hand and held it gently. “You could best me in an arm wrestling match.”
“Keep your bones inside your arm then; I don’t want to hurt the Warchief.” Garrosh laughed and gave Thrall a light handshake. ‘Damn him and his calming presence. I almost forgot about Varian. Why did he ask me to suck his cock? What kind of insult is that? Was it a legitimate request? It can’t be, he doesn’t even want to come near us Orcs…’
“What are you thinking about?” asked Thrall, gazing into Garrosh’s golden brown eyes.
“Nothin’.” Garrosh squinted. “You?”
“The same.”
The evening sank into a cold, starless night. The Lich King must’ve stubbed his toe on furniture or something, for an icy blizzard raged in Icecrown and the wind was blowing the snow on the ground into misshapen piles. Garrosh writhed in his tent as if he could feel every falling snowflake upon his skin. He was wrapped in three layers of furry blankets and had a bundle of cloth to rest his head on. Yet, he was still uncomfortable. His mind burned to know what Varian’s words meant. Nobody had ever said anything like that to him before, and he’d pissed off a lot of people. Above all, Garrosh hated feeling weak and stupidity, or lack of understanding, definitely contributed to that. Grinding his teeth together, he put all of his focus into answering the question: Why does Varian want me to suck his dick? It was not something Orcs said to each other, but seemed to have some sort of sexual meaning. ‘Does he want to mate with me?! Well, I can see why, but… he thinks we are filthy monsters. It doesn’t make sense.’ Then, Garrosh had a thought. ‘Would I mate with him?’ He pictured Varian’s sneering, chiseled face. Then, that same face with sultry, half-lidded eyes and glistening wet lips. That face on a head attached to a nude, scarred and powerfully muscled body. Varian reaching behind his head to remove the ring that held his hair together, drawing it all back only now to have it unleashed in a glorious, wild mass. His hand sliding down to his crotch and holding up his slender, erect length. “Suck it, Hellscream.” he would whisper, and Garrosh would… think about it. He blinked, feeling a tightness in his warm breeches.
‘Hell yeah, I’d rut that.’ Then his eyes widened. ‘WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!’
That had been out loud. Thrall came running, wearing fluffy rabbit slippers and a long creamy gown. He shoved his face through the entrance of Garrosh’s tent and looked around, alarmed.
“What is it?”
“Shit! What are you doing here?!” Highly unnerved, Garrosh curled into a defensive ball and skinned back his lips to reveal sharp teeth and even gums. “Rrrrghh…”
Thrall looked terribly worried, and crawled into the tent. “Were you having a bad dream?”
Garrosh stared at him. ‘Does he know? Damn it, is he doing some of that oogly boogly shamanic bullshit again?’ He drew his legs together.
“Don’t you dare read my mind.”
Thrall sighed. “I can’t do that, and you know it. What’s the matter? It’s unlike you to be so… guarded at night.”
“I can’t sleep.” Garrosh snapped. “I got mad because of it.”
At once, Thrall knew he was lying. Those golden brown eyes did not dart from side to side when Garrosh was telling the truth. Shifting closer, Thrall pressed his hand to the side of Garrosh’s face.
“Is that all...?”
Swayed by the understanding tone of his Warchief’s voice, Garrosh sighed.
“I can’t stop thinking about what that stupid human King said to me. I want to ask him about it.”
“It’s not a good idea.” said Thrall, gently stroking Garrosh from his cheek down to his chin with the back of his fingers. “Not at this hour of the night.”
“But I want to.” Garrosh looked at Thrall, whose eyes were full of compassion. “Can’t you help me? I won’t kill him, I just… want to ask him and then come back here to sleep. In peace.”
Thrall wanted to believe that his intentions were pure, he really did. Already he was thinking of a way to get Garrosh into the Alliance camp unseen so he could talk to Varian. But Varian was unlikely to keep quiet and have a nice conversation after all that had happened.
“How do you know he will answer you well enough to let your mind rest?” asked Thrall, jerking his hand away as Garrosh made to bite him.
“Rrrarrghh, I don’t know! Just help me, Thrall. Come on.”
“Fine.” Thrall had already come up with a solution. “But I will trust you for this: no fighting, and no disturbing the others. You go, you talk, you return. I will wait for you.”
“You should sleep.” said Garrosh, observing the slight stress marks on Thrall’s face.
“I can’t stop worrying about you.” Thrall shrugged, and then placed a hand on Garrosh’s head. “I will put a spell on you that will let you move silently, covered in shadows to Varian’s tent. It’s the one with the banners outside it. The moment you speak, the spell will be lifted, so you will have to sneak back here on your own. Can you do that?”
“Uh huh.” Garrosh nodded. Then, he felt a cold wave of energy pass over him as the air shimmered. Thrall’s eyes unfocussed a little. “I can’t see you – that means it’s worked. Go on.”
So Garrosh got up, peeling his blankets and comfort away to trudge through the snow, all sneaky-beaky into the Alliance camp. Thrall watched his heavy, dragging footsteps fade into the distance.
‘I hope he doesn’t walk in front of a guard or something. Those footprints will give him away.’
~
Garrosh shivered, breath clouding and eyes narrow. He knew he was meant to concentrate on finding Varian but the thoughts he’d been having were now interrupting again. What was Varian doing now? Sleeping? Drinking? Having a majestic wank? Garrosh didn’t know, but that last one was very appealing in his mind’s eye.
‘Ha, I might catch him all vulnerable and then he’ll have to answer me!’
As he walked unseen through the rows of neatly erected tents, a few guards shifted on their feet. Garrosh held his breath. One was looking right at him, and as snowflakes fell they seemed to disappear when they hit his head. The guard frowned, but was too tired to bother doing anything. Garrosh kept walking. There were no fires going at this time of night, and most of the humans from Stormwind were warm enough with their clothes and covers. Garrosh, Overlord of the Warsong Offensive, was freezing his nipples off and regretted not being covered in as much body hair as a Tauren.
‘Stupid Lich King. Go throw your frosty shit somewhere else.’ Suddenly, he caught sight of Varian’s tent, flanked by two enormous Alliance banners. The guards standing there were asleep on their feet, leaning forwards with their swords in the ground. A soft light glowed from within the tent and Garrosh dropped to the ground, crawling until he could peel back the entrance flap a few centimeters. It was made of finer material than the tent Garrosh slept in. ‘Pff, royalty.’
Varian lay on his side with a small magical orb floating in a jar beside him. He was propped up on one elbow and stared lazily at the shimmering source of light. A bottle of wine lay beside him with the cork jutting out a little too high for it to be properly stuck in there. Golden strands could be seen highlighting the dark brown mass of his hair that was unbound and spilling over his bare shoulders. Garrosh breathed in. He sensed how warm it was in here, no doubt the orb was acting as some sort of heat source, magically conjured for the King’s comfort. Infinite ideas flooded Garrosh’s mind as he continued to stare through the little slit he’d made. He could crack Varian’s neck right now while he was unguarded and then, without saying a word, sprint off. Nobody would know a thing. He could also… touch the King, and that was the first thing he decided to do. He pushed his hand through the flap carefully, but the movement did not go unnoticed and Varian turned to look. The tent was large enough for three people to lie and stand in, and feeling a cold draft was evidence of someone trying to enter. Varian, a little drunk as he liked to be when sleeping in strange places, sat up.
“Who’s there?”
The flap opened wider, and the thick bit of cloth resembling a rug beside Varian’s sleeping place dipped as if pressed upon. Varian drew in a breath to call for his guards but Garrosh was there and smacked a hand to his mouth.
“Quiet.” Garrosh whispered, making a legitimate effort to be as quiet as possible. With the single utterance, he faded into vision and Varian screamed against his hand before biting it. Garrosh tried not to wince. The wolf had some sharp teeth. He glared into those eyes that now burned with hatred and utter disgust. “Don’t even try to fight me. I’m not here for that.”
Varian paused mid-swing, his fist easing into contact with Garrosh’s upper arm which was thicker than his own head. Garrosh moved his hand away and Varian spat at once.
“Light save us, what the fuck are you doing here?” He looked Garrosh up and down, seeing rather tattered looking clothes that were probably comfortable for the orc. They did not look very clean at all. “Actually, screw it. I don’t want to know. Get out.”
“After all the trouble I went through to get here? I don’t think so.” Garrosh leaned in close, pressing his face into Varian’s space. “Hellscream’s eyes are upon you, and he wants to know what you meant when you said suck my cock.”
Varian gaped at the blunt statement. He gaped some more when he realized that Garrosh looked sleepless and worn, his waist-long black hair unbound and draping over the sides of his face. For a few long minutes he was silent. Then Garrosh snarled.
“I haven’t got all night.”
“What, your Warchief’s got you on a leash so tight he can’t wait to have you home and fuck you in the ass?” Varian didn’t know where that came from but snorted after saying it. “Heh.”
Garrosh was confused. “He has no reason to. Just as I have no reason to… you know.” He gestured to himself and then to Varian’s lower body. The King rolled his eyes and began to laugh.
“Ohhh, you lot really are stupid aren’t you? What, you’ve never heard that kind of insult before? You want me to explain it to you, at this ungodly hour-”
“Hey.” Garrosh raised his voice a little. “Don’t piss me off, just tell me what you meant.” This was really trying his patience, something he had miniscule amounts of. ‘Gah, I hate this prick. Why does he have to be so smug and shirtless and… oh.’
Varian had noticed Garrosh’s eyes roving down to look at his crotch, which was visible in the half crouched stance he took in the corner of the tent. He relaxed himself somewhat, parting his thighs just to see if Garrosh would take interest. He did.
“Hellscream.”
Garrosh looked up. “What?”
“You really don’t know what it means?”
“Uh…” Garrosh glanced away, then back at Varian. Those calculating eyes felt like they were boring into his soul. “I know what it means, but… why would you want me to do something like that to you? You want me dead, you smarmy bitch. Usually, only mated pairs do that kind of thing.”
Varian could not hold back his laughter and pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle it.
“Pffffahhahh!! Mated pairs? Like animals? Ohhh, this is too good. You’re an idiot, Hellscream. But fine, I’ll humour you.”
Garrosh’s breathing quickened as his heart raced with boiling anger. Varian could see it simmering and tried to be serious.
“Us humans don’t like to do it, especially for a man to another man. It means to be subordinate, to suck someone’s dick. Basically what I meant was…” He thought for a few moments. “I’m better than you.”
“RRRRRRGH!” Garrosh raised his hand and brought it down upon Varian’s orb, shattering the jar that contained it. The pain of glass slicing through his skin was enough of an outlet, and now nobody could see just how upset he was. “You… little… shit…” He started grasping at the blankets in an effort to get at Varian, who felt a mild fear for his life. It would be so easy for the King to alert his guards and have Garrosh slain on the spot, presuming he wasn’t going to murder every one of them. But he did not want to deal with Jaina’s disappointment and the Highlord’s contempt after spilling blood outside the colosseum. So, on the sacred grounds of the Argent Tournament, Varian took out his dick. He grabbed Garrosh by the throat (using both hands) and pressed his face close.
“Stop it.”
Beyond words and fuming with the effort of restraint, Garrosh gripped Varian’s wrist. Said wrist turned a little and calloused fingers brushed against his skin. As his grip loosened, Varian directed his hand downwards.
“It’s getting cold.” said Varian, “And it’s all your fault. By your honor, I demand you to keep me warm.”
Garrosh was silent as he processed this. He found his hand limp in Varian’s lap, and after feeling around, recoiled.
“Wait… what?”
Varian leaned in and whispered, thinking to himself ‘Sweet naked Arthas I hope this works.’ “Suck my cock, unless you are too weak and afraid.”
A moment of logic happened then for Garrosh.
‘If I do, won’t that mean he’s better than me? But… he’s not, I could defeat him in battle any day. And besides, isn’t he the weak one, begging to be pleased like this? Ha! I’ll suck him until he cries, and have a good laugh afterwards. Bwahahaha! Shame on him!’
Unseen in the dark, Garrosh’s lips curled around his tusks in a rather creepy smile. He fondled Varian a bit, feeling the heaviness of his half hard length. It was a little small by orc standards, and Garrosh realized he was somewhat inexperienced in eating human dicks. But, he was going to try. He took the blankets and put them over his own shoulders for warmth, settling in between Varian’s legs. Varian reached for his bottle of wine and, leaning back on his elbows, took a long drink. He was going to need it if his dangly bits were going into a mouth full of huge, pointy teeth. And if Garrosh kept quiet, he could perhaps imagine that someone more pleasant was doing this to him. A part of him however wanted to be in the present just to witness the humiliation of his nemesis between his thighs. Little did he know that Garrosh found no shame at all in what he was doing.
Garrosh stuck his tongue out and licked the tip of Varian’s length, finding it like a clean, lightly salted piece of meat. He had to keep his tongue flat over his bottom teeth so that he did not scrape all of the human’s skin off. Varian’s cock fit nicely between his two tusks, and Garrosh closed his lips around it to form a hot, wet suction. Being a hot-blooded Warlord had its benefits, and his mouth was like a furnace to the exposed Varian. Without his orb to keep him warm, Varian had to steal one of the blankets from Garrosh to prevent his upper body from freezing. The sensation was odd, to have a much larger mouth and hand upon his cock than he was used to. He had servants that relieved his needs when necessary, always gentle and groveling and pleasant. This, however, was new. An element of fear stabbed at Varian whenever he felt the sides of Garrosh’s tusks brush against him. They were poking into his thighs and when Garrosh buried his nose into Varian’s crotch, the King swore he could feel himself scarring.
“Watch your fucking teeth.” he growled, “Stop poking me.”
Garrosh looked up, but could see nothing. He decided to change that, and pulled away the cloth that had fallen over the orb and shattered glass. Dim light flickered and he saw Varian looking quite cross. He rolled his eyes and threw the cloth over Varian’s head, going back to sucking at him. Garrosh had done this to quite a few orcs in his lifetime, namely those who he rutted with for pleasure in his younger years. It had a different meaning to him than it did to Varian, and as he enjoyed the hot, meaty taste of Varian’s long cock he saw confusion coming across the King’s face. That wasn’t what he wanted to see. So, he tried harder, and pressed a hand to Varian’s stomach as he moved his head back. His other hand went to grip the King’s left thigh where his thumb brushed against a reddish mark there. Varian suddenly grabbed a handful of Garrosh’s thick black hair and pulled on it, forcing the orc’s head up and his lips back on the tip of Varian’s cock.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.” Varian growled, his eyes dark and threatening. How dare he take that warmth away? Garrosh raised an eyebrow, squinting a little from the pain. Varian pulled again, and Garrosh grunted.
“Guh. Cut it out.”
“No.” Varian pulled Garrosh closer, and was mighty pleased when the orc licked the tip of his length and began to suck on it. The taste here was so strong that Garrosh couldn’t help but enjoy it. It was unique and rare like a fine wine from a different dimension. Garrosh pushed back on Varian’s chest a little, closing his eyes. There was definitely a masculine scent here, a fierce heat and a powerful arousal.
“Mmnnn….” Garrosh moaned deeply as he flicked his tongue in and out of the sensitive slit in Varian’s cock. He felt those muscular thighs tense and glanced up. Varian shivered, trying to restrain himself.
“Oh, for the love of…” Varian couldn’t believe this. “Don’t tell me you like that?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Garrosh muttered, continuing to lick. The shadows cast across his face made him look absolutely terrifying, though the light was soft and gold like the light of an early dawn. Varian swished his fingers through Garrosh’s hair and felt that it was quite thick but not as coarse as it looked. Garrosh breathed softly against Varian’s cock.
“Nhhh…”
“Hm.” Varian had an idea. “Actually, I think you will be able to keep me much warmer if you come up here.” He beckoned with a finger, and Garrosh looked unconvinced. “Or are you scared?”
“I fear nothing.” Garrosh pushed himself up and crawled right into Varian’s lap, glowering down into his face. Varian was acutely aware of just how big the orc was when up close like this. Big… and strong… and warm. Varian sneered at Garrosh.
“Stretch yourself.”
“Oh, no.” Garrosh shook his head. “No way am I letting you breed me like some common whore.”
“So you do have standards.” Varian laughed again but was silenced momentarily when Garrosh headbutt him. “Ow!”
“You shut up.” Garrosh shifted about, thrice Varian’s weight and sitting very heavily in his lap. “Gggghhhh.. No wonder you’re cold. You’re wearing nothing, you stupid human.” The sight of those bushy eyebrows and eyes tightening with displeasure amused Garrosh. “So you want my body to warm you, eh? Have you been wanting me to lie with you?”
“No!” Varian, unaware that his entire face was red, grizzled with indignation. “Ugh, you think you’re something great? Thrall’s damned cocksucking lapdog? No, you’re a bloody inconvenience and you will let me use you as a source of heat.”
“Or what?” Garrosh shifted even closer, pressing his clothed torso against Varian’s bare one. “There’s not a thing you can do to me.”
“I could inform all of Azeroth that you’re a hungry slut, perhaps?”
Garrosh’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would.” Varian licked his lips and slid his hand under the back of Garrosh’s tunic, the flimsy fabric just loose enough to let him claw his nails down the skin. He could feel many raised marks, like welts or old stitched scars. Garrosh squinted.
“You think you can hurt me?”
“I might as well try.” ‘Nothing gets the blood flowing like a good spillage of someone else’s.’
Before Garrosh could react, Varian had sunk his teeth into his thick neck enough to bite through the muscle. As the King was trying to take out a chunk, he heard something unexpected. He looked up to see Garrosh’s lips closing around a heavy groan, his eyes rolling back to hide beneath his lowered eyelids.
‘I can’t believe it. The bastard’s a kinky one.’
Garrosh tried to collect himself, aware that Varian was staring.
“Do that again.” he grunted. “I dare you.”
So Varian did, savagely biting into Garrosh’s shoulder. He ripped away the fabric and tore all of it away with his hands, leaving Garrosh bare-chested. Swirling on his skin was a huge black tattoo, and the orc had scars that rivaled Varian’s own in number. He was a powerful warrior who now was going to have bite-marks to explain to his healing shaman-warchief. Varian delighted in spilling orcish blood, Garrosh’s even more so. He was achingly hard and so was Garrosh, grinding against him with an erection thicker than any Varian had witnessed. Garrosh had forgotten about control and embarrassment, now feeling raw pleasure spark through his body every time Varian bit him. He caught a glimpse of the King licking at his blood, a wild, dark lust in his eyes. He shoved his hand up into the back of Varian’s hair and clenched.
“Agh!” Varian chomped on Garrosh extra hard then, and received a long moan in reply.
“Uuurghhh…” Garrosh could smell his own blood and it excited him, to know that he could get a King to please him thus in this bodily battle. “Varian…”
“Oh, shit.” Varian leaned back, unnerved. His own name sounded so strange coming from an orc’s mouth, moaned in the throes of carnal pleasure. “Don’t.”
“But it feels good.” Garrosh tugged on Varian’s hair, exposing his neck. He saw the fluttering pulse there and smelt hot, salty sweat. “…You are afraid.”
“I am not.” Varian smacked Garrosh on the first bit of flesh he could find, which happened to be the orc’s ass. Garrosh raised an eyebrow. ‘…oops.’ Unwilling to back down from anything, Varian squeezed Garrosh’s ass with both hands. Then he tugged at the breeches.
“Come on.”
Garrosh snarled, pushing Varian down onto the blankets so hard that the King felt his head spin. “NO. I came here to suck your cock and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Well I don’t want that any more.” Varian groped about for his wine bottle and drank the last of it. “Bwahh.”
“You think I care about what you want?” Garrosh laughed heartily, unlacing his breeches. As he stroked his enormous length, he saw Varian’s eyes fix upon it.
“If you don’t care, then why are you here? You are bound by your honour to keep me warm, and that is what I want.” Varian murmured. This caused Garrosh to stop and think.
“…….uhh…”
Varian nudged away what covered his nude form and despite being cold, ran a thick hand down his body. “You want me, don’t you?” He sounded incredulous, his tone matching the look on Garrosh’s face. And despite looking so, Garrosh was still stroking himself. He was finding it hard to place words together.
“I… want you dead, that’s what…” He’d begun to pant, harsh breaths forming unintelligible orcish words. “Fuck… Varian…” While he knelt and jerked himself off, his blood was dripping down his neck and chest. The tent was filled with the scent of it, along with brutal, aggressive lust. “Nnnn…”
“What is it with you?” Varian couldn’t understand at all, yet the sight before him was more intriguing than anything else of the orcs he’d studied. “You take no shame in enjoying the taste of my cock, and even when I bite you, you submit…”
“I submit… to no-one.” Garrosh moaned. “We will never be slaves.” He took his hand away from himself for a moment to re-seat himself in Varian’s lap. “But we will be conquerors.” Sitting in the most prestigious seat, upon the summit of Stormwind Royalty, Garrosh abruptly exploded. Instead of his usual hellscream he gasped, breathless as a fountain of creamy white covered Varian’s chest and face. Such was the angle at which he sat. Varian screamed.
It was a good thing that Green Jesus himself was waiting outside, casting his spell again on Garrosh before pulling him out of the tent and levitating away to safety. Thrall took one look at Garrosh with his dick out and sighed.
‘At least nobody died.’