Wounded Healers: Azriel x Gwyn

Payback

A pair of red fists were blocked by palms of blue. The two brothers sparred, stimulated by the challenge of each other's power. They were equally matched - seven siphons each. And currently, neither had the upper hand on the other. 

Gwyn watched as the two brothers fought, more beautiful and graceful than any dance Gwyn had ever seen. Though they fought one another for sport, there was nothing playful about the way they met in hand-to-hand combat. Every precise blow felt like an offering to the gods of war; like a sign of respect to the ancient warrior art they practiced.

Excitement ran through Gwyn, who found her breathing becoming heavy as she watched the two males dodge and block; punch and kick. She gasped when Cassian's red fist jabbed his brother's face. But when Azriel retaliated by putting Cassian into a headlock, a sensation of arousal swept over Gwyn.

Not arousal for Cassian, for once. But for Azriel.

As Cassian wriggled against his brother, hooking his leg to break the headlock on the ground, Gwyn watched Azriel's lithe movements with interest. She noted how Azriel's expression of calm never changed. Cassian was expressive - he was very animated, his face revealed his every emotion. Not so with Azriel. He wore his unreadable expression even in the heat of battle. The realization made Gwyn desire to see Azriel's face emote something she hadn't seen him feel before. And more than this, to be the cause behind that emotion. She silently challenged herself to the task as the brothers seemingly called a stalemate. They could undoubtedly spar like that forever, but training for the others had to begin.

Sweaty, Az approached Gwyn with his chest still rising and falling rapidly. His veins were popping on his arms from the rigorous exercise. Gwyn struggled to keep her thoughts out of the bedroom as she watched him, and imagined him shirtless as his brother. She wondered if he had anymore tattoos on his body like his brothers did. It dawned on her that the terrifyingly strong and deadly warrior she had just witnessed sparring was the same man who cuddled her a week before. She had nothing to fear from him. Except for that he might scent her desire for him right now.

If he did, he said nothing. His face, as per usual, revealed nothing. 

"That was incredible. You're truly amazing and slightly terrifying. I might think twice before teasing you again for some time," Gwyn joked.

Az smiled shyly. "Thanks. And please, don't stop making jokes at my expense. Those are fine. Your gods-awful puns, however..."

Gwyn playfully acted insulted, lifting her chin in mock indignation. "How rude. And to think, I was going to invite myself over to your house tonight and grace you with my company. But then, you insult me."

A suggestive smirk graced Azriel's face, radiant with sweat in the morning light. "My apologies. I'll be sure to make it up to you later. I'll winnow you in at the usual time."

                                                                    ---

Azriel's apartment was a perfect reflection of himself: refined, handsome, cultured, and polished. It had a very masculine feel. Concrete and dark wood were the two largest elements throughout, though a sumptuous deep blue velvet sofa served to give it a comfortable air. Interesting objects undoubtedly complied from all over Pyrthian speckled shelves of leather-bound books.

"Your apartment is so elegant," Gwyn complimented, genuinely impressed with the interior. She was glad that she wore her new off-the-shoulder long-sleeved grey dress; it matched his home nicely. The dress felt revealing compared to her priestess robes, and she was not very used to such a thing yet. But as she dressed, she couldn't get the image of Azriel all sweaty and pumped out of her mind. And she wanted to take things a step further than they had before tonight.