Chapter Text
Anduin shivered despite his wolfskin robe warding away the late evening chill. He drew into himself further, but no matter the effort, he couldn’t stop himself from shaking. Added warmth, it would seem, had no effect. No, roasting himself over the lit stone hearth of their temporary mating hut likely couldn’t stop this kind of quivering.
Get a hold of yourself, Wrynn!
From outside, a sudden burst of laughter caused Anduin to startle; his fingers gripped the folded white sheet in his lap. Shouting in the Orcish tongue and the heavy fall of a familiar cadence of footsteps followed soon after.
The curtain draping over the entrance to their hut was pulled back, revealing Anduin’s mate-to-be. Grantar appeared sheepish, eyes downcast, smile strained, shoulders hunched, and with the tiniest hint of red staining his cheeks. He moved into the hut with small halting steps until he paused at the edge of the furs Anduin seated himself on.
Beneath the curled hand at his lips, Anduin smiled up at the Orc. Grantar’s shyness only added to his appeal. The man, of course, was gorgeous in the remnants of his ceremonial garb. Stripped of his vestments, the broad planes of his pierced chest and thick trunk were laid bare. Only his fur-lined kilt remained, serving to accentuate the sharp cut of his abdominals. But it was the vulnerability of his expression that made these qualities accessible rather than intimidating. Anduin felt soft affection bloom in his chest as liquid heat pooled between his legs.
Anduin shifted upon the furs. Grantar rubbed his large toe in the red earth beneath him. They remained wordless for a long moment, allowing an awkward silence to settle between them.
With nothing else to say or do, Anduin cut the stillness with a small chuckle of, “Hi.”
“Hello,” Grantar chortled in return.
Cooing ensued.
“No need to be so hesitant!” someone squealed. Laughter commenced. “Show your mate some affection! Don’t allow him to feel undesired.”
Anduin desired to tell their audience how wrong that assertion was, but he became distracted by Grantar’s large hands settling over his girdle. Oh, was this it? Heat spread over his cheeks and his heart began to gallop as Grantar’s belt came undone beneath his fumbling fingers. Kilt loosened, Grantar hooked his thumbs over its hem and tugged .
A metallic clang rang from the young couple’s shoddy mating hut, followed by Anduin’s gasp of, “Oh!”
The crowd outside cheered. Several members clapped a few others on the shoulder. Nods were exchanged. Verbal affirmations whistled through the early evening air.
Varian did not share in their jubilation, and Genn even less so. Prior to their trip to Durotar, the old wolf implied his superior sense of smell could be a ‘problem’ during the ceremony. Varian did not miss the way his nose twitched every-so often. At the very least, the King of Stormwind was fortunate enough not to suffer that indignity.
No, by the Light’s good humor, Varian was only forced to listen to his precious son being deflowered.
“Seems like Grantar’s shown you his ‘weapon’, ey prince?” an Orcish woman joked. “Go on, little lion, show him its sheath.”
Though his “wolf” had been calmed for some time, Varian felt it stir beneath his flesh at the stranger’s suggestion. Rage bubbled from his clenching stomach. But rather than allow it to manifest into violence, for Anduin’s sake, he internalized it, making him sick.
Genn and Jaina seemed to share his disgust if the grimaces on their faces were any indication. Mia and Ailein, on the other hand, appeared absolutely delighted, smiling, laughing and hollering along with the Orcs. Mia’s amusement could have been forgiven due to her intoxication,(Ailein had no such excuse), but Varian wished she wouldn’t contribute her own half-slurred instructions to the mix.
And, by the Light, that was the point of all this, wasn’t it? The “approval” of their elders was secondary to instructing the young couple on their first “mating”?
Varian rubbed a hand down his face. Regardless of their good intentions, he couldn’t imagine private fumbling being worse than the whole of one’s community attempting to assist. What must Anduin be feeling right now?
Anduin felt both hideous and beautiful. After discarding his only piece of clothing, the scars littering his unique anatomy were revealed to the firelight. Yet Grantar’s eyes roamed over each inch of rough skin with a hunger that stole Anduin’s breath away.
Seated beside him, Grantar leaned forward and captured Anduin’s lips with his own. The kiss was hardly anything more than chaste, a simple connection of mouths. All the same, it softened the blades of Anduin’s insecurities. Grantar still loved him, still found him worth mating, in spite of his flaws. That was all that mattered.
Their affection deepened; neither of them knew who initiated it. It was of little consequence. Large hands found their place over the side of Anduin's neck and shoulder. Anduin’s fingertips discovered the skin of Grantar pectorals, his nails scratching over the rings in his nipples. They shared equal noises of gentle pleasure, much to the amusement of the revelers outside.
Grantar stiffened. Anduin pulled away, murmuring over his panting mouth, “Ignore them. Just focus on me, okay?”
The Orc did not appear swayed; his lips stretched into a thin line beneath his tusks and his sights were set on Anduin’s knee rather than his face. Oh, no, that certainly would not do.
As tenderly as he could, Anduin led the hand upon his shoulder down to caress his pebbled chest, his contracting tummy, his mound, settling it over the wet warmth of his core. Anduin gasped at the expected, but sudden, pressure on the sensitive flesh there. “Focus on me,” Anduin commanded with a firm whisper. “And I’ll focus on you.”
Grantar shivered.
For several minutes, there was little commotion for the crowd surrounding the mating hut to react to. It contributed to the boredom of the Orcish members in their party, if their murmuring and shuffling was any indication. Meanwhile, Varian suspected Genn and Jaina shared his hope that this level of activity would hold until the end of the ceremony.
During the lull, food and drinks were passed from guest to guest to fill the time. Varian refused their array of breads, but reached for a goblet of what he assumed was an alcoholic brew of some kind. The serving boy, an Orc adolescent if Varian had to make the horrifying guess, snatched the stone tray away. In broken Common, he explained, “Elder must not get drunks! Need clear approval.”
Sweet, merciful Light! The tribe won’t allow him to inebriate this haunting experience from his mind?! And from Genn’s twisted features, the old wolf had just as much luck finding his own salvation at the bottom of a chalice as he did.
At the same time, Ailein, who had the good fortune to not be designated as one of Anduin’s elders, partook in their edible samplings but turned down any liquid that was not water. No, for reasons Varian could not grasp, the boy seemed determined to remain completely sober for this occasion.
Jaina, far more wise than Ailein, snuck three drinks away from the serving tray.
Ailein made a side step towards Genn. “Won’t the Gilnean king give us the play-by-play? I can see your ears pricking, your majesty,” he laughed around a piece of bread in his mouth.
Varian gaped. How could this boy make such jokes at a time like this? Yes, he used to be a hired whore prior to becoming Anduin’s body double, but they had become as close as brothers in that time. Surely he was also uncomfortable overhearing Anduin have sex, if a little less than the rest of the humans in attendance!
“Al,” Genn growled in warning.
“Yes, please tell us ...the, um play-by-play,” Mia half-slurred, half-giggled.
“Lady Greymane!” Jaina gasped. “That is my nephew, your surrogate grandson, Varian’s -“
“Oh, drink your wine and loosen up, you dragon-loving harlot,” Mia chortled.
Even Ailein had the decency to appear somewhat flabbergasted by Mia’s statement, but the crassness of her words was easily forgotten in the wake of a high-pitched wail.
On his hands and knees, Anduin presented his dripping pussy much like a bitch would in heat. But there was little misery in such abasement, not while Grantar licked at his clenching hole and aching clit.
Grantar’s supposed inexperience did little to dampen Anduin’s gratification. If anything, it enhanced it. The Orc seemed very open to Anduin’s wordless suggestions, learning what felt best based on the boy’s posturing and erotic intonations
Each pass of Grantar’s tongue over Anduin’s overactive nerves threatened to send the boy soaring forward, away from the overwhelming sensations twisting his gut. Grantar, however, gripped his trembling thighs to entrap him in that sweet, sweet torture of too much and not enough . A whine escaped his throat.
Anduin, suddenly remembering himself and his surroundings, clamped a hand over his panting mouth. Mortification filled him. The revelers outside could hear in his cries how sparks of pure bliss raced up his spine from his cunt.
Regardless of the barrier over his mouth, the obscene smacking of Grantar’s ministrations left little room for the imagination. It wasn’t long before Grantar’s peers praised the Orc for getting Anduin nice and sloppy for his enormous cock.
Before Anduin could put too much thought into the crowd’s words, the blunt end of Grantar’s fingers sought his sopping opening. Anduin mewled in response to the gentle exploration of his slit. His hips bucked against the proposed intrusion, silently begging for it. Then, just as anticipation overcame Anduin, Grantar entered his channel.
“By the Light! Yes! Yes! Oh!”
The roar of the crowd could not possibly deafen Anduin’s proclamations to the Holy Light enough .
Genn whimpered . Varian prayed beneath his breath for the Light to take him, he was ready. Jaina downed her first full glass of wine in expert time.
Mia and Ailein clapped along with the Orcs. This only added insult to injury.
The wounds Varian sustained on the Broken Shore were far less painful than having to listen to this . No, he much preferred being stabbed, broken, discarded over intruding on his son’s sex life. He wasn’t sure he could survive knowing the extent of how wanton Anduin could become, his life draining from him with each second that passed.
“I can’t do this,” Varian murmured as he pivoted on his heel. But before he could achieve too much distance, a strong grip held onto his wrist, keeping him in place.
“Are you mad?” Ailein hissed. “If you leave now, it means you don’t approve of their union!”
“I’ll...extend my apologies to Anduin,” Varian muttered without looking at his surrogate son.
Ailein clicked his tongue and stamped his foot. His grip held. “You don’t understand. This won’t endear you or Anduin to his new family.”
“I’m sure Anduin will be fine.” Varian had no reason to doubt Anduin’s rather amazing diplomatic abilities. He would smooth things over, no question.
“Don’t be so sure,” Ailein sighed. “If Anduin remains with Grantar, despite your disapproval, he’ll be seen as a man who betrayed his family. That is no small social stigma in Orc society. And if by some miracle Anduin does persuade Grantar’s family into accepting him, then you’ll be forcing Genn and Jaina to go through this whole ordeal all over again.”
Genn, for all his tact and subtlety, whined despite it revealing his eavesdropping. “Don’t you dare, Varian!” he shouted over to them.
“By the Holy Light, that old man has the hearing of a bat,” Ailein scoffed to himself.
Varian stared up at the clear evening sky above them, hoping, wishing for something to strike him down where he stood. That would solve the problem.
“I’ll stay…but I’ll need help. ” Varian announced through gritted teeth; Ailein released him on his own recognizance. The king turned and followed Ailein back to their small circle of friends. “Jaina! Pass me some of your wine.”
Jaina faced Varian, gaze blazing with disbelief and indignation. Without breaking eye contact, she downed the last of her wine.
Varian gaped once more. Light, help me! I have been betrayed!
Rolling onto his back, Anduin collapsed against the white sheet lining their furs. Breathless, he chuckled, “Is it your turn now?”
Grantar, kneeling before Anduin’s pelvis, shook his head. He wiped his mouth with a free palm. “Some other time, maybe. I don’t think I can last much longer.”
Anduin’s eyes traveled down to where Grantar encircled the base of his sturdy shaft with his hand. The massive erection visibly throbbed in his grip. The purpling head appeared swollen, almost painful.
This was it. Their time had come.
Anduin beckoned Grantar over to him with a gesture of his hand. Grantar’s emerald focus locked on Anduin’s stormy blues as they both shifted to allow for their ultimate goal.
At that moment, Anduin appreciated the true difference in their respective sizes. Grantar loomed over him like a mountain of pure strength and power; Anduin’s splayed legs strained to accommodate him. The fat end of Grantar’s cock sat against the tiny opening between Anduin’s soaked lower lips.
Nervous energy filled Anduin. His stomach swooped. The cavity of his chest panged.
“Ready?” Grantar breathed out, causing Anduin to shiver.
Anduin reached out to palm Grantar’s cheeks. He stroked the short whiskers beneath his fingers as he traced the handsome visage of his lover with his gaze. After another heartbeat, the boy released a hitched breath and nodded; he wanted nothing more than to give this to his mate.
Grantar pushed in.
Genn physically recoiled. Despite the sudden lack of cacophony coming from the couple’s hut, there was no mistaking the reason for such a strong reaction.
Rage and horror boiled in equal measure within Varian. He barked, “What? What’s happened to my son?”
The color drained from Genn’s face. He coughed against a closed fist. “It has been done. Anduin is no longer a virgin.”
A sickening lurch pulled at Varian’s stomach.
“Is he - is he in any pain?” Jaina mumbled the question before Varian could open his mouth to ask.
Genn shook his head. “As far as I can tell, he’s having an easier time of it than most.”
“I told you,” Ailein explained with a gloating smile. “Orcs are gentle and considerate lovers. Anduin will be fine.”
Anduin would be fine, but the world fell out from beneath Varian’s feet. It was strange, he recognized, to mourn for Anduin's innocence. Intellectually, he understood that nothing had changed from one moment to the next. Yet he couldn’t help but fear he had lost his little boy somehow.
To Anduin’s amazement, the intense burn of being stretched for the first time subsided after just a few deep breaths. The pain was much more manageable than he had anticipated considering the stories told to him throughout his adolescence. And once Grantar sighed against the sensitive shell of his ear, Anduin disregarded any leftover sting from their union with little effort.
Mm , that rich sound could fuel Anduin’s fantasies for a lifetime.
Discomfort dispelled, Anduin’s body relaxed in Grantar’s solid, warm hold. Pleasure eluded the boy, so instead, he basked in the press of their bare skin and the shared love within their beating hearts. Already content, Anduin was more than happy to allow Grantar the enjoyment of his body without expectation of reciprocation.
Then, Grantar began to rock.
Anduin gasped.
All at once, Anduin felt his mate everywhere , including against that elusive button inside of him. With each movement, it was as if Grantar triggered every single nerve inside his body, shocking his system with wave after wave of pure rapture. Adding to the overwhelming heat melting Anduin’s core, his pulsing clit was stimulated simultaneously by the grind of Grantar’s pelvis.
A shudder wracked through Anduin, and he groaned without thought or care for who might hear.
At the first sound of satisfaction rumbling from the hut, the crowd boomed with even more enthusiasm than before.
“Get it, Little Lion!”
“Grantar, show the princeling the prowess of our clan!”
“Blessings upon you! May you conceive many healthy children!”
Worse yet, interspersed between these well-wishes, Anduin’s cries echoed across the desert sands.
Varian fell onto the balls of his heels. He wondered how long it would take his bare hands to burrow so deeply into the earth he could escape into Azeroth’s underbelly. It would be nice to be cradled there like a child for all eternity , Varian supposed.
From behind the distraught king, an unfamiliar, accented voice asked, “Do you need assistance, your majesty?”
Varian glanced over his shoulder to find an Orc woman approaching him. Her hobbling steps were helped along with the use of a long walking stick. White braids spilled over the hunch of her shoulders. Deep wrinkles framed her amber eyes and welcoming smile.
Varian opened his mouth, but he was interrupted by Anduin’s scream of, “Yes! Harder! Right there! Oh!”
Varian whined. An internal impression of himself as a wounded, begging dog cemented itself into his consciousness.
The Orc woman made a humming noise. With shuddering, awkward movements, she sat beside Varian, who was too deep in his own misery to deny her. After some shared silence, the woman said, “This must be difficult for you.”
“Yes,” Varian laughed. “It is.”
The old woman nodded. “I have met many who are uncomfortable by this ritual. Several tribes of our own people prefer that these matters remain private.”
“Yes, humans are much the same. We don’t want to be privy to such intimate moments, especially those of our children.”
The Orc woman nodded once again. “But it must be nice to know your child’s mate can care for him in all aspects, is it not?”
Instinct demanded that Varian deny the notion. However, as much as it pained him, he mulled the question over. In truth, this knowledge did alleviate his fear of Anduin being shackled to a cruel and selfish partner - of that Varian had too much experience. Awkward as this tradition was, at least he had full knowledge that Anduin would find joy in the bed chamber, leading, hopefully, to many heirs.
“I guess so,” Varian finally replied.
A scream tore through the air.
The old Orc smiled. “It sounds like your torment will be at its end soon.”
“I’m so close, so close, please!” Anduin pleaded. He tossed his head back, locked his legs around Grantar’s hips, and held onto his shoulders as if they were his last tether to reality.
Grantar fared no better. His roars resounded louder and louder in Anduin’s ear, his hot breath puffing through the boy’s sweat-soaked blonde locks. The bulging muscles of his body stiffened with every new thrust.
“You must release me,” Grantar hissed, urgency evident in his rapid words. “I’m...I’m…”
Anduin made a hum of denial. “Inside,” he rasped. “You have to do it inside.”
“But, you could become…”
Anduin tilted his head and placed a kiss upon his cheek. Against Grantar’s skin, he sighed, “I want that, if ...if you want that.”
Grantar moaned. “Spirits, I’ve never wanted anything more.”
“Then, come inside me,” Anduin growled.
Grantar stilled and released a mighty howl. A sudden wave of warmth flooded Anduin’s insides.
Being claimed, being bred, by his mate brought Anduin to his own shuttering end. Ecstasy coursed through his veins, and he yelped to the heavens. His channel pulsed around Grantar’s cock, milking the Orc of every last drop of his seed.
As he came down from his high, shivers ran down Anduin’s spine and tightening limbs. Grantar pulled away from Anduin and collapsed beside his breathless mate.
A peculiar kind of curiosity urged Anduin to reach toward the junction of his thighs. The tips of his fingers met the foreign slickness spilling from his entrance. They came away wet and tacky with Grantar’s potent emission. His clit thrummed.
“Would you like a go of it again?” Anduin semi-joked.
Grantar chuckled. “I would not mind. But, first, we should present the sheet to the elders for approval.”
The ...sheet?
Oh…
Oh no! Anduin’s father was out there, waiting to inspect the proof of their consummation! And...he must have heard everything .
Grantar patted Anduin while he curled into a fetal possession of shame.