Time should’ve taught me the lesson Went lookin’ for a sign but instead I got a message I take off my pride every time we undressin’ I draw the line, I’m out of line
It was quiet in the lounge, the board that normally stood outside was put up but the door itself was still unlocked. I pulled the door shut behind Warmonger and I, locking it instinctively.
“That’s a face we’ve not seen around these parts in a long, long time...” Dylakend must’ve heard Warmonger barking his arrival before finding a spot to curl up. He stepped out from the back room, standing behind the bar wearing high boots that made me jealous, a black vest to match over a green shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing the web of magical and alchemical designs inked on his arms.
“I know. I meant to visit in person more often but, at least there were vague, coded letters right?” I meant it, it wasn’t my intention to disappear for quite so long. I moved slowly through the lounge, touching chairs and other furniture as I passed along the way to the bar. It was immediately obvious he’d done a good job. It was clean, everything well-kept and I could see right away the handful of newspapers and magazines scattered on the tables were current.
“Looks like my trust was well-placed, though.”
He agreed with more humility than I expected and pointed out Warmonger had no trouble finding his favorite sofa and pillow. His voice was so familiar and soothing in a strange way. No bad memories, no fears or pain.
“We’re all drawn to familiar things,” I replied, drumming fingers on the clean bar top to fill the silence. He poured me a drink, Frog’s Venom, I don’t know how he remembered. When I finished it we shared the whiskey he’d poured himself, and the next round.
I didn’t expect it at first, the strand of memory between us growing tighter, shorter, to pull us closer together. The bar was was still in the way but that tugging feeling brought us closer, leaning across until only a breath of space separated our faces. He’d said something about relaxing and I told him I was about as relaxed there, unarmored in the lounge, as I was going to be.
“Somehow, I doubt very much that this is as relaxed as you get. And if you’re truly that tense, then it’s probably been too long since someone wrapped their belt around your neck and made sure you were thoroughly relaxed.”
Suddenly I felt naked, entirely bare to him in spite of only dropping a few heavier pieces of the worn armor. I didn’t argue, those threads of memory tugging at my mind again. By the time we were upstairs, I was closing the door behind him, pushing him against it.
We’re all drawn to familiar things.
I remembered the touch but it was different now. Maybe it was how things had settled, with Braeden, with the lounge. Maybe it was him, or maybe I had changed. The same measure of control was there, giving commands I was begging to obey.
“I do love it when you moan for me,” he’d mumbled into my neck, catching his breath after, in the heat still between us.
“Surprising that it took so long for you to make me do it again,” I countered, teasing him with the words and a bite at his shoulder. Of course time had passed. Between the Red Portal, Keleros, the rush of things that happened after and my departure, there was little opportunity for us to have each other even if we’d wanted.
He offered a soft, pleased hum and pressed closer, lying next to me before answering. “You won’t have to worry about that again.”
“Welcome back to Quel’thalas,” I offered myself in a soft congratulations, trying to take in the whole encounter.
The promises he tried to pull from me after were even more surprising. It was harder to dodge him than Melada and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I imagined how easy it would be to tell him whatever he wanted to hear and enjoy it all as long as I could before it burned down around me.
Just as easy as it proved to be to change the subject back to something we both knew and liked. My hand stopped guiding his to trace the lines of ink he’d put on me, putting a stop to the potential moment of affection, of weakness in favor of something more simple and familiar.
Welcome back indeed.
