“I’m close,” Korik gasped, tightening around Varen’s length buried inside him. “I’m—I—”
He trailed off with a moan as he came. The thick vein on the underside of his cock pulsated and bucked against Varen’s hand, and his hole clenched hard around Varen’s cock. Thick ropes of come spurted up the length of his bare chest.
Varen couldn’t hold himself back. He gripped the orc’s hips and pounded into him, making him cry out in surprise and pleasure at the sudden change of pace. His hips slapped against Korik’s thighs, filling their den with the lewd sound, while Korik’s moans and gasps filled his ears, drowning out the sounds of the storm outside. He was so close, the orc felt so tight and hot andgoodaround him—
He gasped and moaned wordlessly as he followed Korik over the edge, burying himself to the hilt as he came. Korikwhimperedas Varen filled him with his spend, pushing it deeper with each long, languid thrust. He was covered in his own come and filled with Varen’s, entirely at the elf’s mercy—Varen bit down a moan at the thought. He couldn’t focus on anything but his own cock, and the sight of Korik completely undone beneath him.
When his cock had finally stopped twitching where it was buried inside the orc, Varen leaned back bonelessly with a deep, satisfied sigh. They were both plenty warm now.
Korik gasped as he slowly pulled free, a trickle of come dripping from his hole at the motion. His golden eyes followed Varen as he shuffled closer to the orc, exhausted, and laid down beside him.
“Still good?” he asked with a faint grin, looking through his eyelashes up at the orc. If he wanted to cuddle a bit afterward, well, it was just to keep them warm for longer, of course.
His heart squeezed at the faint smile that crossed Korik’s lips, curling around his tusks. “Still good.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Korik
WhenKorikdroppedhisawareness into the earth the next morning—or what felt like the morning—he could tell immediately that the worst of the storm had passed. He still couldn’t find any birds braving the winds, but the small creatures that he could latch onto were inspecting their surroundings now, rather than hiding away in their dens and burrows. A fox was cautiously pacing through the snow and squinting against the flakes that blew into its vision, while a rabbit had dug its way out of its tunnel, now sniffing around for the cold sprigs of grass and leaves underneath.
Trying to navigate down the mountain in the lingering storm would be foolish, but at least the end was in sight. He expected to be relieved at the knowledge—and certainly part of him was—but another part of him felt almost disappointed that whateverthiswas between him and Varen would probably be gone with the storm. Like the elf had said, this was only to pass the time, to keep warm, to have an outlet for their energy.For fun, he’d said. Korik doubted they would have any need or time forfunonce they were on their way again.
He wasn’t sure why it felt so much like a loss. Before this, he’d been abstinent for years and hadn’t really missed it. When more elves had come to Drol Kuggradh, he had grown curious about how relationships between elves and orcs might develop, especially when tending to the elf prince and his child; but that had been mostly clinical, not something he had any intention of acting on. This was different: Varen seemed to attract his eyes like magnets and simultaneously made him feel like a bumbling fool, yet less self-conscious than he had been with anyone else.
He liked this version of Varen, or at least liked him better than the Varen he had first encountered when they left Drol Kuggradh with Enriel. He had been insufferable, truly. This Varen was still domineering, arrogant, and sassy; but lacked the sharp edge that he’d had before. His words were often just as jabbing, but somehow the intent behind them felt light and joyful, rather than cold and judgmental. Korik couldn’t really place the change, but was keenly aware of it all the same.
Was it always like this? Having friends, making connections? He had been so withdrawn for so long; it was hard to judge just what exactly was going on between them.
Korik realized he’d been ruminating on all this while still inhabiting the body of the little rabbit in the snow, whose instincts had taken over while he’d been unfocused. It almost made him laugh to think of his thoughts filling its uncomprehending mind as it sniffed around for food.
He released it and came back to himself, eyes flickering open in the dim light of their own den. It was warmer now than when he had started; he’d noticed the same yesterday, too, and appreciated that Varen had kept up on warming up the stones to keep them comfortable. Considering how cool the ground was on his hands, the warmth was now very welcome.
“Seems like it’ll be over soon,” he said, rubbing his icy fingers. “I’ll check again in a few hours. I don’t think we should leave today, but maybe if it clears up faster than expected...”
“That’s a relief,” Varen sighed. “No, if you think it’s better to wait, we should still wait. But having the end in sight makes it feel easier, don’t you think?”
Korik nodded. And it would give them an extra day together like this—not that he would ever say so out loud.
“Means we don’t have to ration our food so strictly, either,” Varen added, reaching for the bundle of frozen rabbit meat. That was also a benefit. The meat warmed quickly with their magic; and instead of carefully dividing one between them, they each had their own, along with a small piece of hard bread and a handful of berries. It was still a small meal for Korik, but was far more satisfying than the others had been.
Varen chattered at him for a little while, telling him a story of some famous elven hunter, but Korik was only half-listening now. His mind kept wandering back to the memory of the day before, the lingering ache of where Varen had been inside of him. They would still need to pass some time today, wouldn’t they? Maybe Varen would want to go again...
To his surprise, though, after telling his long-winded story for a while, Varen seemed to tire and quietly curled back into his bedroll. Korik looked at him for a moment, and the elf did seem to be sleeping. Maybe all the activity had worn him out more than he’d realized.
But Korik didn’t feel tired, so he busied himself with warming up the stones around them. Then he pulled out some of the wood that he’d saved and continued the work he had started on makeshift snowshoes. Once the storm was over, they would head out, but he doubted the snow would melt away now that it had started. He cut the leftover wood into long, thin strips to figure out a way to securely hook the panels to their feet.
A strange storm roiled inside of his chest. He very much wanted to be done with all this and go home; yet at the same time, he was inexplicably looking forward to the time that he and Varen had left together. It felt odd to want such vastly different things, especially when his feelings toward Varen had been decidedly negative at first; but he could not deny that hedidwant both things.
Life had been so much simpler before he was dragged into this adventure, that much was for sure. He could only hope his quiet life was still waiting for him when he finally got home.
The edge of the knife grazed his fingertip, the sting pulling him from his thoughts. He hissed in pain, reflexively sticking his finger in his mouth. The blood was coppery on his tongue. It was a small cut and took little effort to knit closed with magic. Still, he chided himself. He needed to pay attention to what he was doing, no matter how distracting the image of the sleeping elf beside him was.
In the end, Varen didn’t ask for a third time, and Korik was too nervous to ask himself. When he checked again, the storm was clearing up, but the sky remained dark. They would sleep here, but he expected that it would be safe for them to leave in the morning.
Varen grinned, relieved, when he told him as much. The elf had spent the last several hours pacing the den restlessly, clearly much more eager to leave than Korik was.
When they settled down to sleep again, Korik lay awake for what felt like hours, wondering if Varen would reach for him again in the night, like how he had that first time. The elf was close to him. They were bundled under the same blanket, still sharing body heat; but no wandering hands or lingering touches came.
