Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4870813.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      World_of_Warcraft
  Relationship:
      Wrathion/Anduin_Wrynn
  Character:
      Wrathion, Anduin_Wrynn, Random_belves
  Additional Tags:
      Non-Consensual_Voyeurism, Unresolved_Sexual_Tension
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-09-25 Words: 3073
****** Steamy Water ******
by alternatedoom
Summary
     Wrathion issues Anduin an invitation, and the two princes get a
     little show.
Notes
     Thanks to GW for the readthrough. All mistakes are mine.
     Anduin is 15 and Wrathion is 2 in dragon years as in canon, but
     neither does anything sexually explicit in this story.
Anduin eases into the hot tub slowly, moving down the ramp an inch at a time,
with long pauses. The water's hot enough that he can't just slip in quickly, or
the heat becomes overwhelming and his skin feels like it's burning. But edging
in gradually makes the experience perfect. It takes several minutes, but he
settles into the hot springs with a sweet feeling of relaxation, the tension in
his pierced, crushed and now healing muscles draining away.
His guards retreat to give him some small measure of privacy, but he knows
they'll stay within earshot and in sight. He moves around to the back of the
tub so they can get a clear view of his face rather than the back of his head
should they look over. When he's not sneaking away without them, he does try to
be considerate of their task of ensuring his safety.
For a moment he closes his eyes, wonderfully at ease, and he opens them just as
the dragon whelp flies up. "Prince Anduin! May I join you?" Wrathion says, and
doesn't wait for an answer before hopping into the tub, little wings
outstretched. The dragon makes a tiny kerplunk as he hits the surface of the
water across from Anduin.
In the blink of an eye Wrathion assumes his human form, and Anduin sees him
without the turban and without a shirt for the first time. Wrathion has short,
wavy black hair that artlessly frames his face and hangs over his forehead, and
a small golden hoop pierced through one dark nipple.
Awestruck for a second by the sight of him, and not sure why, Anduin tries not
to stare. "Oh-- hi. Of course."
Anduin wants very much to let his eyes slip farther down, to see if Wrathion's
wearing anything at all. The surface of the water bubbles energetically with
the submersed flow of the springs, so he can't tell from his lower peripheral
vision. Long-ingrained politeness keeps his eyes up to Wrathion's chest and
above, but it takes a conscious and sustained effort.
Wrathion's dragon body is small and several of the people who glimpsed it at
the same time Anduin first did seemed to find it adorable. Anduin didn't think
Wrathion's real body was cute--even after so much time, the sight triggered a
fight-or-flight response that nearly froze him for a second--but he could and
can see why others cooed and giggled over the pet-sized whelp. Wrathion is
hardly larger than a wild hare, and even smaller when his wings are tucked.
Wrathion didn't seem to appreciate the fawning, though. Perhaps it's because he
doesn't like the delighted exclamations about his cuteness that the human face
he's made is not quite handsome. His nose is oddly pronounced, and there's a
strange flatness to his face, too peculiar to suit conventional human male
beauty norms.
But though he hasn't known Wrathion long, and indeed they've only had two brief
conversations since he first arrived at the Tavern, Anduin has noticed that
Wrathion draws every eye in any room. There's something more than attractive
about him, something mesmerising. Especially, Anduin thinks, shirtless in a hot
springs with his dark hair curling into his provocative red eyes. Even fully
clothed, the sight of him has given Anduin a strange feeling low in his
stomach. Nervousness, he tells himself. His experiences with black dragons
haven't been what anyone would call positive.
Wrathion outstretches his arms along the sides of the springs, taking up a lot
of space. Anduin gets his first good look at Wrathion's claws without gloves.
His claws are jet black and shiny hard, a bit larger than human fists, folded
down and deadly looking. Even the tops of his knuckles look sharp.
"These springs are a natural wonder," Wrathion says.
"Yes, the water feels amazing," Anduin admits, and for a minute they just sit
there in the bubbling water and look at each other.
Wrathion seems completely comfortable in the silence, though he's the one who
finally breaks it.
"Do you always wear the banner on your chest?" Wrathion asks, apropos of
nothing.
"Ban-- oh." His tabard, Anduin realizes. Wrathion disconcerts him as much as
anyone ever has. "Well, not at the moment," he quips, pleased at least to make
a snappy answer.
"I've not yet seen you dressed without it. But I have never seen your father in
it."
Anduin gives him a quizzical look. Wrathion has only laid eyes on him a few
times, to the best of his knowledge. Maybe half a dozen times, if he's been
managing to paying attention to Anduin's comings and goings while meeting with
his champions. Wrathion spends a great deal of time with the wanderers of both
factions who visit the Tavern. And as far as Anduin knows, Wrathion has never
even seen the king of Stormwind. "How often do you see my father?"
Wrathion taps the wooden curbed side of the hot tub with the points of his
claws, smirking like he knows something Anduin doesn't. "I see him often
through others' eyes."
Anduin can't do much besides stare incredulously with his lips parted. "You
have spies in Lion's Landing?" His mind races. Why would the dragon tell him as
much?
Wrathion tilts his head to the side and laughs at him. Wrathion has a soft,
silky, fluttery laugh. "Spies, no. I refer to seeing him through the eyes of
loyal--" he makes the word 'loyal' a mockery-- "--Alliance champions who share
their sight with me."
"That's... kind of creepy," Anduin says. He's not sure what else to say.
"Regardless. I have noticed your father wears the Alliance colors in his armor,
but I never see the flag on his chest. Why do you wear it, when you're already
blue and white and gold, head to toe? Does he make you wear it?"
Anduin scowls. "No, he doesn't make me."
"And pray tell, do you ever wear other colors?"
"I do," he insists. What a bizarre conversation. No one's ever openly
questioned his sartorial choices this way, in a manner that comes across like
criticism. Anduin does not surround himself with sycophants as a rule, but no
one else would be so rude. "I have other things. But I like wearing the
Alliance colors."
"I suppose having one's heir be a walking flag is useful... to a degree. If
there's nothing better for the scion to do, he can rally the troops by lifting
morale everywhere he goes." Wrathion lacks Anduin's compunctions about
courtesy, and the dragon eyes him up and down in a way that makes Anduin feel
naked despite his shorts and the bubbly surface of the water. "I doubt your
father will want you in any more fights, considering how your first turned
out."
Wrathion is so insulting. "Going up against Garrosh was not my first experience
with combat. I've been in the middle of battles," he says, defensive again.
"Oh, I should love to hear about them," Wrathion says, and Anduin thinks he
hears honest interest there, but Wrathion also sounds the tiniest bit
patronizing.
A pair of blood elves approach the hot tub, a man and a giggling woman. They
slip into the water and the male sin'dorei nods at them. The male wears a
little pair of shorts similar to Anduin's, and the sin'dorei woman wears a red
two-piece bathing costume that leaves little to the imagination. She smiles at
the both of them, making brief eye contact before the two elves come closely
together and commence whispering back and forth in their own language. Anduin
has only been in the hot tub three times before, but most everyone who descends
into the springs is friendly, Anduin has found. The flowing hot water seems to
make people feel relaxed and contented. The male elf, while broader in the
torso, is every bit as pretty as the female elf, and his hair is longer than
hers. Anduin always marvels at the sheer beauty of elves, and he watches the
two of them for a moment.
Anduin's fairly sure both elves are inebriated. Many people who come in the
springs are that, too.
Wrathion slides smoothly around the side of the baths, ostensibly to give the
two elves a wider berth and a little more privacy, but coming quite close to
Anduin in the process, sitting with their upper arms no more than a handspan
away. Anduin's heart beats a little faster. On the other hand, the dragon's
nearness leaves Anduin free to discreetly violate propriety, and he casts a
quick, sneaky look down and side-eyes Wrathion's groin. The bubbles still
prevent a clear view, but he's sure Wrathion is naked.
Anduin feels himself start blushing. Wrathion is sitting right next to him in
the hot springs and quite without clothes.
Compounding his consternation, the blood elves begin to kiss passionately.
Glancing at them again, Anduin realizes the elves are touching one another
under the water, too, and not bothering overmuch to hide their movements. The
elf woman's arm is flexing in tiny increments, barely even furtive, shifting
slightly again and again in a slow rhythm, and she's obviously stroking the man
between his legs. Anduin's blush intensifies, and he only hopes Wrathion
doesn't notice, or that the color in his cheeks looks like it could naturally
be from the heat of the springs.
Even more mortifying, he realizes he's getting hard.
He feels the need to clear his throat, but he does not want to draw attention
to himself. He certainly doesn't want the blood elves to think he's clearing
his throat at them, so he swallows instead.
Part of him would very much like to stay and watch whatever the elves are going
to do. Part of him would maybe like to get out of the water now, because he
knows it's inappropriate for him to be witnessing this sort of sexual display.
Unfortunately, the first three times he entered the springs, he'd needed his
guards' help to maneuver out, and he wouldn't want to get out in front of
Wrathion even if he wasn't hard, not so much because he's badly scarred all
over, though he is, but because he wouldn't want to reveal to Wrathion of all
people just how weak and vulnerable he is right now. Plus the elves would
definitely notice how much they've turned him on seeing them kiss and touch and
just--no.
Anduin tries not to look as the male blood elf puts his hand on one of her
barely-covered breasts, only half under the surface of the water, and the two
devour each other's mouths again. By a long shot, it does beat what Anduin's
used to, which is whichever adult figure shutting down any conversation or
joking that has a sexual edge when he's around.
Wrathion seems unperturbed by the amorous pair opposite them. He's not looking
at them, but he's not desperately avoiding looking at them either, the way
Anduin feels like he is. He sits in the water at Anduin's side seemingly at
ease. Maybe it's because he's too young to be sexually mature and thus is
disinterested in the elves' public intimacy? Wrathion is so arrogant and such a
know-it-all, it's odd to think Anduin's over a decade older.
"Are you uncomfortable, Prince Anduin?"
"No, I'm fine," he lies, and he's not an especially good liar, but he thinks it
comes out solidly enough.
Wrathion looks at him from under his lashes.
"I understand you like playing games," Wrathion says, shifting the subject.
"Wh-- yes?" Anduin does like board games, it's not like it's a secret, but how
does Wrathion know? "Do you have 'loyal Alliance champions' watching me, too?"
"I do not," Wrathion says decisively, and he flashes a faint smile. "For you
are right here and I am perfectly capable of watching you myself."
Wrathion enjoys throwing him off balance, Anduin thinks, and the dragon's next
words prove it. "Come to my room tonight and play a game with me," Wrathion
says.
Anduin looks at him sharply. What is Wrathion suggesting? "What game do you
want to play?"
"It doesn't matter to me," Wrathion tells him, amused by his reaction. "What do
you like to play?"
He has to admit, he is curious to see what Wrathion's room is like. If he
accepts the invitation, though, he's definitely bringing his guards. He doesn't
trust Wrathion in the least. But he takes the dragon at his word that he's
talking about playing an actual game and not some sort of... something else.
"Chess and Senet and Draughts, and Nim, and Fox and Geese, and lots of card
games... though actually, since you bring it up, there's a Pandaren game called
Juhui I haven't had the chance to play yet."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, it seems like a neat game. The objective is pretty different."
The blood elves whisper back and forth to each other in strongly accented,
slightly louder Thalassian. Anduin knows some disjointed Orcish and speaks
fluent Draenic as well as Common, but he only knows a little Thalassian. He
knows one swear, the phrase to ask for a privy, and a handful of other words.
He does know the words for body parts--he knows the words for various body
parts and a number of descriptives for pain in five languages, because if he's
to be a priest, he needs to be able to communicate with people sufficient to
find out what hurts. Sure, the vast majority of elves speak Common, but Anduin
likes learning foreign languages, and it never hurts to be prepared.
So he knows the word for finger when he hears it, and he thinks he catches the
word for water if he remembers right, and then the blood elf woman's thighs are
spread a little in the water and the man has his arm oriented to dip a hand
between her legs. The male elf catches Anduin's eyes and the next thing Anduin
knows, the woman's top has loosened and her breasts have come free. Her nipples
are floating with the waterline, and she's still jerking the male elf off, and
Anduin can't look and he can't look away and after a second he solves the
problem by leaning his head back against the wood and closing his eyes.
Anduin's not expecting the claw that suddenly lands high on his bare thigh. He
startles hard and jumps as his eyes fly open, tensing all over and wincing as
his muscles tighten and spasm despite still being submerged in the steaming
water. The suddenness of his lurch splashes a little water around him, too. He
turns and half-stares, half-glares at Wrathion as the blood elves momentarily
stop their sexual hijinks and look at him and Wrathion. Anduin's guards swivel
their heads too, but as the blood elves are sitting against the front of the
springs, their backs to the guards, Anduin's guards can't see the partial
nudity. His guards ascertain Anduin's head is above the water and go back to
waiting.
The dragon smirks at him. Wrathion doesn't grip Anduin's thigh, merely rests
his clawed hand there as if it's a perfectly natural place for him to touch. "I
think you're uncomfortable," Wrathion murmurs, his smirk turning into a tiny
smile as if they share a secret.
He could lie again, but Anduin refuses to be drawn into an argument with a baby
black dragon about what he feels or doesn't feel. "I am now," he says
brusquely, brushing the dragon's talon off his leg with the back of one hand.
Anduin's sure those massive black claws are strong enough to crush granite, but
Wrathion allows Anduin to push his dragon-hand away with no resistance. Anduin
thinks about that and asks slowly, "Do you enjoy getting under everyone's skin,
or just mine?"
"Oh, most everyone's," Wrathion assures him. "But I don't invite just anyone to
my room. Come after dinner. It'll be... fun."
Anduin stares at him. Yes, he's definitely bringing his guards. Wrathion smiles
at him as if he knows what Anduin is thinking. Wrathion has sharp pointed teeth
and an alarmingly wide smile that seems to stretch across almost the entirity
of the lower part of his face. Anduin can hardly take his eyes off the dragon,
off that dazzling white grin that so clearly says hello, I'm not human, but
across from them, the male blood elf appears to be enjoying a quiet climax, his
head tilted back and his broad chest heaving. Anduin can't help but look, and
if his father had any idea what sorts of things go on back here in these
springs, he would never, ever have allowed Anduin to recuperate in Tong's
establishment.
Wrathion glances over at the elf too before refocusing on Anduin and smiling
again. Without another word Wrathion transforms back into a black whelp, heaves
his wee body out of the water and flies off. The blood elves commence
whispering back and forth again.
Anduin closes his eyes, breathes deeply, thinks neutral thoughts, and waits
until his erection has subsided before he nods politely to the elves, who give
him slightly naughty but appreciative smiles. Lots of shared secrets to go
around in these springs. The female blood elf reaches out a hand to him in
wordless invitation as he stands, and the male's eyes on him have turned from
teasing to seductive, but Anduin smiles and shakes his head no. Anduin
carefully limps up the ramp to the side, and his guards approach, but he's
gratified not to need the hands they reach out either.
When he dresses afterwards, Anduin draws on a pair of blue pants without
thinking, but during dinner a happily drunken visitor to the Tavern knocks a
bowl of sticky rice pudding into his lap. Anduin finishes his meal and goes to
his room to change, only to find he's out of clean blue leggings. The Pandaren
washerwoman who works for Tong won't have Anduin's laundry back until tomorrow
morning.
Sighing, Anduin changes into a pair of black striped pants, knowing full well
that now Wrathion's going to think he's goaded Anduin into wearing something
different than his usual. The thought gives him some irritation, but he's still
interested in Wrathion's invitation, so there's no help for it. Anduin picks up
his cane, grabs the carved wooden Juhui box, collects his guards from outside
his door, and heads to Wrathion's room.
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