The portal closes and Reya stumbles, feet hitting cold metal and stone. His chest burns. Gritting his teeth, he pushes forward, sprinting as if the hounds of the Legion snap at his heels. Every step rings and echoes, a tolling bell in the light-less hall.
“The priests have already had their turn; we thought it best to bring one of—a death knight to finish the process. If there is anything of use, take it.”
“Yes, sir.”
A long drawn out rattly sigh. “Good. If he dies, I have no qualms about it. Blighted git.” Steel screeched across the floor. “We will watch, of course, but go on.”
The door clanged shut again and Rey breathed in slowly, holding it tight. On the exhale, he raised his gaze to Solis’ bruised and battered face.
1. breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths
It’s days like these that have Reya trembling, heart too big for his chest. The low crackles of the fire, the dim warm glow that washes the room in light fills him to the brim and overflows. The days where every touch feels precious and Reya sits utterly bewildered with how life has somehow brought this wonderful, wonderful man into his path.
Hael’s shoulders are strong, corded with muscle and just as scarred and Reya wants to run his fingers over each one, thanking the very stars that each one did not fell the man beside him. He wants to hold each sliver of a would-be smile and tuck it away in his heart forever. He wants to burn the memory of Hael’s eyes, both yellow and his dear spectral blue, into his soul.
And in a way, he already has: love, warmth, that contented ease washes over him, blooming in a place so protected from everyone but Haelstein Varun.
How did they manage to find him? It still stuns Reya from time to time that Hael loves them both and so equally. It still shocks him every single time Hael bends down to kiss him, to hug him, to hold him. It still courses in his veins, the very knowledge that they could love another and be loved in return.
The cool touch of steel and the warmth of flesh stirs him from his reverie and Reya melts into the soft kiss, feeling his chest flutter with far too much feeling. Too much? No, there would never be too much love inside of him for Hael.
Parting just barely from Hael, Reya leans in, knocking their foreheads together and hands clasping in their laps. Scarred, callused hands, claws scraping, so much larger than his own and, Light, Reya wants to drown in their touch.
“I love you.” Reya breathes, voice shattered with how much love he feels, both his own and Hael’s, oh Light, he can feel Hael’s love and it’s…he never wants this moment to end.
2. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed
As much as Rey griped and complained about Reya’s stylistic choices, Rey couldn’t help but admit that it was…effective. Reya’s smug sense of victory, though, gets completely and utterly swept away as Haelstein pushes him back, kissing him like he hasn’t in weeks. It’s all Rey can do but shove the traitorous sound in his throat behind his teeth and pull himself up into the kiss.
The hands on his chest slide to his hips, claws digging in and Rey finds his back pressed up hard against a wall—Yes. Yes. He swears, voice strangled, and Hael swallows the sound with another deep kiss. The next second, he’s weightless, lifted. He barely registers how Hael shoves the bedroom door open. But he hears it slam shut and his thoughts scatter with it.
3. kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s
Too close—Too close—It’s all they can do but fall into one another, blood still dripping from their armor. Injuries barely healed—a low pained noise gets caught in the death knight’s throat—and fresh memories flashing behind their eyes. Hands clutch too tight at armor and cloth, blood spotted hair and bruised skin.
It’s there, the fear, that so desperate fear of losing one another that has them entangled, half-torn between kissing and just holding. Not you, please, just not you, they can’t take you away from me. An gihr.
6. lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up
Rey rises from sleep slowly, consciousness returning like a lazy kitten in a patch of sun. Except his sunlight is Haelstein Varun and he nuzzles into the other man’s shoulder, mumbling an gihr as he curls into Hael’s side. He doesn’t need to see Hael to know that the Deathstalker is already awake and instead relishes in the warmth beating in both their chests.
Claws gently card through his hair and Rey sighs, leaning into each loving touch. It’s easy to pull back and meet Hael’s lips, sweet and cool and everything Rey and Reya have always wanted. He feels a smile slip onto his face and he kisses Hael again, letting love bubble and bloom in his heart.
14. starting with a kiss meant to be gentle, ending up in passion
Faceplanting onto the bed, Rey groans, flopping over. He spares Hael a small glare at the amusement he can feel along the bond and rolls over again. It all felt terribly like Reya and the pout that forms on his lips at the quiet chuckle beside him does nothing to help his case.
The bed dips and Rey mumbles into the sheets, still frustrated and tired but then he feels claws carding through his hair and he can’t help but sigh. Cheater. And then Hael says his name and Rey sighs, shifting enough to look up at the Deathstalker. Saying nothing more, Hael continues the slow scritches, brushing a claw against Rey’s cheek.
It takes a few moments for Rey to fully relax and by the end of it, the tension’s all but bled out of him He leans into Hael’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to the palm.
“Better?” Hael asks and Rey nods, eyes slipping half-closed. Yeah. Much better. Rey glances up just in time to see Hael lean down, a second before their lips meet in a sweet kiss. Sighing into it, Rey reaches up to hold Hael closer. He feels the hand in his hair slowly tighten and he meets the next kiss more intently, air hitching in his throat. And, oh void, he can feel the moment Hael hears it in his bones, that small shift like a predator catching sight of prey. Teeth find his bottom lip, splitting it, void, he can taste the blood on his tongue. Blood that Hael chases and Rey willingly gives.
Ah, one of the best things about undeath: not having to breathe between kisses.
17. height difference kisses where one person has to bend do wn and the other is on their tippy toes
isn’t this always
“Haelstein!”
“Yes.”
The Deathstalker turns, briefly pausing the buckling of his gauntlets. Bounding up to the near fully armored Deathstalker, Reya grins and crooks a finger for Hael to bend down. Impatient, though, he reaches up and tugs at Hael’s scarf.
If amusement could show on such a stoic face, that little twitch of a brow is a dead giveaway as the Deathstalker leans down at Reya’s insistence. And once closer, Reya rocks up onto his toes to kiss Hael swiftly on the cheek before slowly, softly pressing a kiss to Hael’s lips that the man returns with equal affection.
“Good luck with work.” Reya says, smile quieter now but no less loving and followed by another sweet peck of a kiss.
Love bubbling up in his chest and along the bond, Reya happily returns the last kiss Hael places on his lips. Light, if it weren’t for work—for both of them now!—he’d drag Hael back down for another kiss but…professionalism.
And fuck, that look Hael’s giving him is like the Deathstalker can read his mind, that’s not fair.
18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap
He’s certain this new job is spoiling him silly, Reya’s sure of it. Free souls? Murder? Safety? It’s fucking great.
But not as great as being able to finish all of Varun’s stacks of paperwork and tug the Deathstalker away from his desk to the couch. And no, not that kind of tug, though Reya entertains the thought with smile that gets him a slight squint from Hael.
Giggling, Reya kisses Hael on the nose, pulling the Deathstalker closer. “Don’t ya worry ‘bout it.”
Like that isn’t suspicious, Reya. Shhhhhhh, Rey. It’s okay.
One brow raising, Hael obliges the death knight, arms embracing Reya as the small man settles on his lap. Before Hael could possibly ask what Reya was thinking about—not that he really needed to, Hael knows everything—Reya kisses him soundly, looping his arms around Hael’s neck.
Yeah, this was pretty fucking great. Thanks, Undercity.
Every step down into the depths of Undercity, Reya breathed each inhale and Rey each exhale. One. Then the other. One. Two. One. Two. It was easy to time it with the somehow quieter footfalls of the large Deathstalker beside him. One. Two. Light—Void—They wished they could take Haelstein’s hand, just once but they were too exposed here, too many eyes and ears upon them as they descended, down, down, down.
The tunnels of the Undercity always seemed filled with shadow, a lingering reminder of their new existence as the unholy denizens of death. Or perhaps Rey’s wandering thoughts stole to shadow and poetry too often and you should lighten the fuck up, Reeeeeey.
Dust. Cobwebs. Ragged sheets. The room was hardly a welcome sight with its piles of unopened boxes, canvases thrown over chests, and grey coated shelves lined with aging books. Any air was stale, musty and would have caused a fit of coughs if Rey was more inclined to breathe.
But breathing would shatter the calm that barely clung to his bones. Breathing would herald tears and sobs that would not rest till his chest was empty.
Dawn painted the lightening skies lavender and blue, the birds rising to the sun’s call black against the pale clouds. The quiet hum of insects promised a symphony later in the day; summer approached and with it the bugs that still clung to the Western Plaguelands’ forests. A light breeze swept through the pines, rocking the lantern on the stone wall. Chop. Chop. Chop. Cutting down swiftly, the axe came down on the logs, splintering the wood in clean halves. Ungloved, scarred, sun-weathered hands grasped the shaft with practiced ease, lifting the tool back up for another blow.
Thud. Sticking deep into the trunk beneath, the axe swayed in its resting spot. A clean rag slipped out of Blackwell’s pocket, finding a place on the man’s lined and bearded face and mopped up the sweat beading on his skin. Truthfully, the wood pile did not need replenishing; the rows of logs held enough fuel to last even through another harsh Lordaeron winter regardless of the fact that summer was just around the bend. But something had twisted in the veteran’s gut that morning, something familiar that had urged him out of bed before the birds could herald the sun.
If there was anything he still believed in, Blackwell trusted his instincts and if his gut told him to be outside at this hour then he damn well would be.
Three. Over. Under. Over. Repeat. Shaking cold hands threaded blond hair together, braid slowly coming together. Over. Under—his fingers slipped, the locks falling. Biting back a cry, Rey wrung his hands in the sheets, nails near tearing through the fabric.
The chapel bells rung through the stone halls, priests, and commoners in search of salvation passing out from the main chamber. He should have been in there with them all, listening in to the dulcet tones of the Light.
Instead, he stood still, tension wound tight like the fire in his veins, hands shaking, and lip trembling. The alcove’s shadows, dark and hollow, almost seemed to grow. But perhaps that was just candlelight, a trick of the eye. Still, he glared, blue violet eyes stinging with unshed tears and fingers digging bloody into the palms of his hands.
“You.” He ground out through clenched teeth, voice like the opening of a tomb, the breaking of a vow. “Have no right to me. None! You made your choice when you did this me!”
He struck a clenched fist against his chest, pain shattering through his heart with every pulse of blood. The reply tore through his gut, something breaking in his chest and hot-furious tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. He slapped away the hand that came for him—his arm? his throat? what difference did it make—and he reeled back to scratch his nails across that perfect lip, blood splattering under the force. A snarl rumbled in his chest as the hands came back for him, a different but familiar anger driving him into the wall.
The curse that left his mouth stung the air with its profanity, rage, hurt, betrayal bitter black behind his teeth.
💘– A memory that gets their heart pounding
The sharpness of Wraith chilled his tongue but the biting hunger in his gut subsided slowly with every passing second. Words fell off his tongue with a quiet ice, poise founded in murder and shadow keeping his spine straight and softness under lock and key.
But still he spoke, eyes catching sight of Hael over the nose of his death charger, stroking it absently. The Deathstalker had kept his gaze peering for a long moment before approaching and Wraith forced his chin up to keep the contact.
“Wraith.” He didn’t quite understand how a name could sound so real, so right on another’s tongue.
“Yes, Haelstein?”
What happened next took the knight by surprise, cold exterior faltering as a kiss met his lips. Almost gentle, the chill of steel and warmth of flesh. Casual, no fanfare. Just…a kiss.
Then the Deathstalker was drawing away, barely a few seconds passing through it all, and his large hand dropping from Wraith’s cheek. There were no words as the man left, bat taking the Deathstalker back to duty and its ever forceful call. Leaving Wraith standing there, eyes wide and cheeks flushing to a bright purple. He heard his beast friends cackle as he covered his burning face with his hands, laughter growing louder at his stuttering reprimand.
Void, how could he be so—so—void it all, he was doomed. Doomed.
Kaienn laughed, loud and uproariously, dancing out of the way of his sister’s admonishing hands. “Just having a little bit of fun, dearie~” He mocked and swept into a low bow, the expensive wispy fabric about his shoulders slipping.
Setting her hands on her hips, Velmiera glared half-heartedly at her twin brother and the dress he was currently holding hostage. By wearing. “You look ridiculous.” She stated primly, turning her head away with a childish huff.
“Oh c’mon now, sis! I look fantastic in it.” Kaienn slipped around behind her, draping an arm over her slim shoulders not yet filled out with age. “Just wait, I am going to go into the courtyard and greet mother’s guests like this!”
Velmiera gasped, laughter bubbling up despite herself. “You are not!”
“I am!” And he was off, nearly tripping on the gown’s hem. “C’mon!”
Giggling, Velmiera quickly followed, picking a glowing flower from the air to lace into her brother’s hair. Well, if he was going to make a fool of himself, she would help him every step of the way.
Till Sunrise 