FIC: The Best Laid Plans (1/3): Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw (World of Warcraft)
Title: The Best Laid Plans
Author: asterie_smiles
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Word Count: 22k
Summary: At the Trading Post, we saw Flynn trying (and failing) to surprise Mathias with a new pet. What would happen if he were planning a bigger surprise: like, say, a marriage proposal?
Takes place at the end of Dragonflight, with low-key TWW foreshadowing but no spoilers.
Betas: minnow_53, who willingly jumped into an unfamiliar fandom to beta this for me.
Chapters two and three will be posted on Monday and Friday - you can also read and subscribe on AO3 for updates!
I'm begging for you to take my hand,
Wreck my plans,
That's my man.
‘willow’, Taylor Swift.
Flynn Fairwind: I have a surprise for you later.
Mathias Shaw: I know.
Flynn Fairwind: You can't... I was just there! How could you possibly know?
Mathias Shaw: Hah! It’s my job to know.
Flynn Fairwind: Spoilsport!
- World of Warcraft Dragonflight, 10.0.5
Chapter One
“Oh come on, it’s not that funny!” Flynn grumbled.
“It kind of is, though,” Taelia replied, her laughter making Galeheart visibly shake as she flew beside him across Stormsong Valley. “Really, who tries to surprise a spymaster? It’s a good job you’re pretty, because you can be rather dense sometimes.”
“I just wanted to do something nice for the bloke,” he protested. “I don’t see why everyone thinks it's so ridiculous. Besides, he adores that little critter!”
Taelia was clearly still giggling a bit, but her curiosity got the better of her. “What did you even get him, in the end?”
“Well, all the adventurers seemed to be going nuts over some ogre child, for whatever reason. Seems like inviting trouble to let that sort of thing in your house, if you ask me. No, I found the cutest red fox kit curled up in the back of the Trading Post and just knew she was it.” Flynn smiled at the memory of creeping through the throng of heroes to find her, fast asleep and oblivious. His first thought was that Mathias could take some lessons in how to sleep without one eye open for once, and his second was that he would take a bullet for this tiny creature.
“A fox kit? I thought it was you that wanted one of those,” Taelia said, suspicion lacing her voice.
“Hey, this was a ninety-percent selfless act, I'll have you know! I can hardly take her on the ship with me, can I? Much as I’d prefer that to Scythe, the vicious little bugger.” He thought with despair about their ship’s cat, who kept not only the rodents at bay, but also the entire crew, except one particularly bloodthirsty gunner who shared his killer instincts. “Anyway, she’s called Ruby, and I’m pretty sure he already loves her more than me. She certainly gets to spend more time in his lap.” He sighed dramatically.
“I really can’t picture your Mathias cuddling up with a fox kit, to be honest,” Taelia mused.
“Oh, you should see them together, Tae!” Flynn couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips as he pictured his little family, and was glad that Taelia was too busy bringing Galeheart in for a landing to witness his dopey expression. “Yes, he was a bit unsure at first, but then she popped into stealth and even he couldn’t find her, and all of a sudden he was a proper proud father. Sometimes she curls up on his paperwork, and he just gets all soft and actually lets himself relax for the evening.”
“I never thought I’d hear the spymaster of the Alliance described as soft.”
Flynn cackled. “Well, I am quite fond of his hard bits, if you get my drift.”
“Flynn, everyone always gets your drift,” said Taelia flatly, rolling her eyes.
“There’s a driftwood joke there somewhere,” Flynn muttered absent-mindedly, jumping down from his riding parrot. Now adventurers could island-hop without the war effort resting on their Azerite haul, he’d been able to persuade a party of them to kidnap - birdnap, he supposed - a parrot from some Southsea freebooters off the coast of Crestfall. One of his greatest joys in life was dragging her through the crowded Stormwind portal room every time he came to Boralus. Partly because the mages hated it, and partly because each trip yielded a queue of champions paying to sail out and nab one of their own.
He reached into his pack and fed his parrot some crackers, before turning to survey the valley. “Tides, it's good to be back!” he announced, throwing himself down and breathing in the familiar smells of the earth, the sea, and the tar from the shipwright below.
“How long are you here for?” Taelia asked, lowering herself much more gracefully onto the grass beside him.
“Just the day, I’m afraid. The Arva’s putting out from Stormwind next week so I hopped through the portal to get my marching orders from the Lord Admiral.” He patted his coat pocket, reassuring himself that the shipping manifesto and contract were still intact after their flight.
“Oh? Where are you off to?”
Flynn reached into his pocket and unfurled the scroll. “Northrend, by the looks of it. Dragonblight, with cargo up from Karazhan and a stopover in the Azure Span.”
Taelia grimaced. “May the tides be with you, then. At least it's nearing summer, you wouldn't have wanted to be heading through the North Sea much earlier than this.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Flynn kept skimming the papers. “Hmmm, interesting. Looks like we’re transporting some magical equipment that would get messed up by teleportation. Blah blah Galakrond, blah blah energy traces, blah blah end of the world… Add to that some cargo from the Iskaara Tuskarr for a cultural exchange with the Kalu'ak… Ah.” He winced. “Which is apparently my cover story, and the first part is all strictly classified. Bollocks. Don’t suppose you can just pretend you didn’t hear anything?”
“Honestly, I don’t think our friendship would have lasted this long if I couldn’t tune out at least half of what you say.”
“Taelia Fordragon, you wound me!” Flynn announced dramatically, clasping his hands to his chest.
She laughed and threw an apple at him. “You’re lucky Mathias loves you, because you’re a walking confidentiality breach.”
“To be fair, the Tuskarr cover story is ridiculous. They have more than enough ships of their own, and they’re far better equipped to deal with ice than the Arva. Is it too much to ask for some verisimilitude here?”
He could see Taelia mouthing ‘verisimilitude’, and decided to carry on rather than being hurt that his best friend underestimated his extensive vocabulary.
“Besides, I can be sneaky! I got you all the way out here for a surprise picnic, without a single SI:7 agent on our tail, I might add.” If he’d had to take a nervous look over his shoulder and focus intently on trying to detect anyone hiding in the grass just to make sure, well, he was hardly going to mention that.
“And here I thought we were having a nice friend date, not an exercise in espionage.” She didn’t sound too bothered, though, and peered over into Flynn’s pack to see what else was in there.
“We are!” Flynn began to pile the rest of the picnic food between them. “Apples, which are not weapons, honey pot pies, ravenberry tarts, Mildenhall mead… I even picked up some of the cheese and bread you like from Stormwind on my way. See, I am a thoughtful best friend, and not at all luring you out here to help solve my problems.”
“So, go on, then, spit it out. What problems need solving, if we’re not just here for the view?”
“Hey, we’re also giving Galeheart a workout.” He looked at the gryphon askance. “Not that you need it, wonderbird, you’re in excellent condition, as ever.” Galeheart looked as if she approved, but that could have been because he’d packed some of her favourite rat kabobs from the Deeprun Tram.
“Flynn.” Taelia gave him a firm stare.
“Taelia,” he mimicked. He then shook his head dramatically, took a fortifying breath, and steeled himself. “IwanttoaskMathiastomarryme.”
She froze with a slice of pie halfway to her mouth. “I’m sorry, did you just say what I think you said?”
Flynn took another deep breath. “I want to ask Mathias to marry me. And I want it to be a surprise, but clearly I’m shit at them, so I need all hands on deck to make this happen.”
Taelia startled him by flinging her arms round his neck, squashing some of the picnic food in the process.
“Careful, mate, you nearly knocked over the booze!” he pointed out, but made no move to pull away from the tight hug.
“It has a cork in it, you idiot,” she said fondly, sitting back down next to him with a hand on his arm. “Besides, this is a big deal! How long have you been thinking about it?”
“Ages, really. I mean, I’ve known for years now that - well, he's it for me, Tae.” Flynn looked at the sky, trying not to get teary. “I never thought it was possible to spend that much time with someone and not want to give them a nudge off the yardarm, yet here I am with a house, and a pet that’s not a parrot, and someone who genuinely knows me and for some tidesforsaken reason still wants me around. And the sex. Taelia, the sex! I honestly thought it would be boring to only sleep with one person, but with him it's just… Did I ever tell you about the time we got each other off in an alleyway while trying not to break stealth?” He aimed for a lascivious smile, but could tell he just looked besotted.
“No, and I could have perfectly happily lived the rest of my life without hearing that sordid detail.” Taelia wrinkled her nose. “All those people who think he must be too buttoned-up for you… I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse to be one of the few who knows better.”
He laughed. “Just don’t let on to him that I tell you this stuff, okay? If he knew, we’d both be sharkbait.”
“Or,” she said hopefully, “you could stop telling me about your sex life altogether. I’d be quite happy with that, thank you very much.”
“Come off it, we both know you live vicariously through me and my dashing soon-to-be-fiancé.”
She snorted. “Please! As if I don’t have my own love life.”
Flynn sat bolt upright and stared at her. “Okay, I’m going to need details.”
“No, we came all the way out here to work on your proposal, remember?” She poked him in the side. “So, what’s the plan?”
Flynn flopped back onto the grass in despair. “There is no plan yet, because I cannot for the life of me figure out how to surprise the man. Tides, I can’t even get the bloody ring without him knowing. He watches every reputable jeweller on Azeroth for stolen goods, and most of the disreputable ones are his informants.”
“Some of the heroes about are excellent jewelcrafters,” Taelia suggested, passing him the flagon of mead for consolation. “One of them made me a gorgeous rubelite necklace during the War.”
“Most of the heroes are far too loyal to the Alliance, and any meetings I have with the Horde will be brought straight back to SI:7, armistice or no armistice. At this point I’m thinking of going to the place where my last boatswain got his gold teeth done, and that hardly screams romance, does it?”
He took a larger swig of booze than he probably should have, ignoring Mathias’s voice in his head: “I was rather hoping you wouldn’t need to drown yourself any more.” And he hadn’t, not in ages, lonely nights at sea notwithstanding, but it was proving very tricky for sober Flynn to come up with creative proposal solutions.
“Tell you what,” offered Taelia, “next time I’m sent to Oribos, how about I see what the Brokers can rustle up? If you want untraceable, they’re your lot, though the Tidemother only knows what they'll ask in return.”
Flynn raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh yeah?”
She grimaced slightly, clearly running through her memories of various transactions. “Necklaces of fangs, priceless jewels, pieces of twine… I don’t pretend to understand, but they seem to be doing a roaring trade.”
“Thanks, Tae, I owe you one. Need to cultivate as many options as possible in the hopes that one of them slips past SI:7.”
“Such a romantic,” Taelia giggled. “Imagine if the only avenue that panned out was a glass trinket from the Darkmoon Faire, or some goblin contraption that explodes when you twist it round your finger! Though I imagine SI:7 probably goes in for that sort of thing.”
He nodded sagely. “Oh, aye, anything can double up as an emergency explosive, especially where Steelspark and Keeshan are involved. That said, I'm pretty sure Mathias wouldn't want his engagement ring to go up in smoke and take his hand with it.” Flynn winced at the image, being rather fond of Mathias’s hands and keen on them staying right where they were. Or all over him, that would be good, too. “To be fair, though, he is an immensely practical man. Maybe I should just repurpose a standard-issue codebreaker ring - not that I can get into the supply room undetected. Might be cute, though, a ring for our private cipher.”
“You have your own cipher? I thought you weren’t even officially part of the organisation,” Taelia said with interest.
“Yes, but how else would we be able to correspond while we’re working? Granted, some of the urgency of the smuttier content gets lost by the time I’ve translated it all,” he mused, heat rushing to his face unbidden at the thought of the racier letters. Perhaps it was time to get them out of his safe deposit box to have something fun to read on the way to Northrend.
Taelia rolled her eyes. “So while everyone thinks he’s decoding classified information, he’s actually reading - and writing - pornographic messages?”
“Yes. Well, not all the time, some of them are proper love letters or actual sneaky spy things. But a solid twenty percent, by my reckoning,” Flynn calculated smugly.
“I can’t believe -” Taelia began, before pausing to think. She sat forward and looked him directly in the eye. “Flynn Fairwind. You have got to marry that man.”
He winked at her, but couldn’t hide the slightly lovesick smile. “Then let’s make that happen, shall we?” he asked, grabbing some parchment from his pack. “Right, Plan A…”
~~~~
Flynn was full of ideas by the eve of his trip to Northrend, and he hoped that his nervous energy was coming across as simply the anticipation of the voyage ahead. He’d managed to make a few enquiries as he went about his normal business of provisioning the Bold Arva, most of which would double up as decent red herrings for any SI:7 eyes and ears - which reminded him, he needed to pick up that extra salt cod he’d requisitioned.
There were still a few more things to set in motion before the end of the day, loath as he was to leave Mathias’s side before such a long trip, and Flynn couldn’t help tapping his foot restlessly as he tried to figure out a way to move around Stormwind without agents trailing him. It was sweet that Mathias wanted him to be protected, but a pain in the arse when he wanted to surprise the man.
“So, Mathias, I was thinking,” Flynn began as innocently as he could manage.
Mathias didn’t miss a beat, turning to him with a shake of his head. “No.”
Flynn threw his arms up in frustration. “Oh, come on, you don’t even know what I’m going to say! You could be turning down a spectacular shag right now.”
“I’ll take that chance,” said Mathias dryly, “especially as I’m at work.” He made a pointed gesture at the SI:7 personnel dotted around the room. For spies, they were doing a terrible job of pretending not to eavesdrop.
“Speaking of,” Flynn segued, rather elegantly, “how would you feel about giving the nice, hardworking agents that follow me around the day off?”
Mathias folded his arms sternly, which was fair enough given that Flynn had been asking that same question at least once a month for years now. Flynn tried not to let on that this time was far more important.
“Your personal detail already changes every other day because, for some unfathomable reason, they find you exhausting to supervise,” he pointed out, words softened by the lovely little teasing smile that was only ever directed at Flynn. “Therefore, no.”
Flynn pushed himself up from where he was leaning against the wall and moved towards Mathias, raising a placating hand. “First, I am a delight, and keeping track of me is much more fun than loitering around the Keep watching over the Regent.” He could see a couple of the agents around them nodding slightly in assent. “Second, how can you make a decision without knowing all the facts? Don’t you care to find out why I’m asking?”
“I have a funny feeling you wouldn’t give me a straight answer,” Mathias pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
“Okay, that’s fair,” Flynn agreed, “but what if I just want to try and surprise you?”
“Flynn. Has it ever occurred to you that I might not like surprises?” Mathias pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, a habit that Flynn adored, if only because he was the only person able to smooth out the furrows in that tired brow. He itched to reach for Mathias, to kiss his forehead and remind him that not everything was a matter of life and death, but it was hardly the time or place for such open affection.
Flynn was endlessly proud of how far Mathias had come in terms of letting those around him see his human side, but such vulnerability was still far too much. He wondered idly what their wedding would be like; if Mathias would be willing - or indeed, able - to let the people around them glimpse the sheer amount of feeling trapped under those layers of leather and duty.
Though Flynn cherished the privilege of being the one person able to see beneath the surface of Mathias Shaw, it would make for an awkward exchange of vows if his husband-to-be looked aloof throughout the whole thing - but that was all moot if he couldn’t pull off a proposal in the first place.
“I get it, mate, I really do,” he said, placatingly. “Professional paranoia and all that. But that’s just because there aren’t exactly many good surprises in your line of work, are there? Not often you turn up to a drop point and find a nice box of chocolates.”
An almost imperceptible flicker of expression crossed Mathias’s face and Flynn paused for a moment. “Or is it?”
At that, Mathias's face completely shut down, but not before Flynn realised he was onto something.
He snapped his fingers. “Wait, I’ve got it! That does happen, but not because someone’s trying to poison you or you’re having a torrid affair with someone deep undercover - though if you are, I’m taking the arcane fryer with me when I move out. No, chocolates are a code, aren't they?” he asked, excited. “If an operative has left you some cinderbloom toffees they need immediate extraction, that sort of thing?”
Matthias sighed heavily in defeat, but he looked grudgingly impressed. “That is well above your clearance level, Fairwind. How do you always seem to guess these things?”
“I wish I could say it’s my boundless intellect - though that definitely has a part to play. No, it’s because of you, my dear Spymaster. You’re so enigmatic yet so predictable.”
At Mathias's withering look, Flynn held up his hands. “Calm down, mate, you're only predictable to me. Odds are, if people see an innocuous love token tucked away somewhere, they're going to take it at face value and leave it be. It takes someone uniquely jaded and cynical to use a thing like that for their own ends, and I'd wager there’s few more jaded and cynical than SI:7’s own Master Shaw.”
One of the agents in the room snickered, and Mathias turned to him sharply.
“Flintrest, need I remind you that composure can be the difference between life and death in the field? Report to Shiv and ask for some work that will keep you quiet.”
When the poor dwarf had trudged downstairs, Flynn grinned from ear to ear. “See?” he stage-whispered. “Uniquely jaded and cynical.”
“Is a little professionalism too much to ask?” Mathias let despair colour his tone, and Flynn’s smile grew wider.
“From that poor sod? Not at all. From me? Absolutely.”
“Why are you like this?” Mathias asked, looking up as if the Light were going to intercede for him. When nothing happened, he turned to the draenei studiously organising a bookshelf next to him. “Agent Kaaliah, can you please draft an urgent missive to our operatives in the field that the candy codes have been compromised? Highest level encryption, if you please.” His look of exhausted resignation made Flynn’s heart flutter. Funny what love could do to a bloke.
“I’ll let you get on with that then, shall I?” he said with a smile, bouncing on his heels and clasping his hands behind his back to resist the urge to drop a kiss at the corner of Mathias’s mouth. “If you need me before dinner, I’m sure you already know where I’ll be.”
Mathias just smirked and leaned in to murmur in Flynn’s ear. “If you do wish to lead your bodyguards on a merry chase, today wouldn’t be a bad time. They’ll have a good few weeks to recover while you’re at sea. Besides, this lot could do with a challenge.”
Flynn’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?” he whispered back.
Mathias nodded. “But, Flynn, nothing dangerous. I mean it. If you get yourself killed…”
“...you’ll have Mishka resurrect me just so you can kill me again yourself, got it,” Flynn recited. He pulled back with a smile. “I’m off then. Places to go, people to see, and so on, and so forth. I’ll see you at the Pig and Whistle tonight, seven bells. Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mathias replied, looking at Flynn with warmth for a long moment before he schooled his face back into the cool mask of the master of SI:7. Even that shift couldn’t dampen Flynn’s mood as he whistled a favourite shanty and headed down into the city.
~~~~
By the time dinner rolled round, Flynn was still in high spirits. Everything was ready for the Arva to put out with the morning tide, and he’d had a lot of fun playing hide-and-seek with his bodyguards - though it was probably best that he was going to be gone for a while, because Cooper was furious about falling into the canal.
He’d managed to plant a few more leads for Mathias - a suspicious hour watching things explode in the Dwarven District, some bizarre bookshop purchases, and far more time at the tailoring store than was needed to pick up his order of sailcloth. He was still no closer to a ring, but at least Mathias would have his hands full chasing down dead ends while he figured that part out.
“You’re here!” he said with surprise, bounding up the stairs to Mathias’s preferred table, tucked in the corner of the balcony.
“I am capable of being on time,” Mathias protested, pushing over a frothing mug of dwarven stout.
Flynn took the seat next to him and took a healthy swig. “Well, yes, but you’re also capable of disembowelling a Vrykul with a teaspoon. Doesn’t mean you make a habit of it.”
Mathias gestured past Flynn, dismissing his protection detail for the evening, and despite the stealth Flynn could still make out Cooper’s damp footprints making a desultory retreat from the inn.
“What did you do to them this time?” Mathias asked.
“I did absolutely nothing,” Flynn asserted. “It’s not my fault Cooper’s got a terrible sense of balance. Need to get him up on the rooftops for some practice, I reckon. Bit embarrassing that I’m twice his size and still more graceful.”
Mathias smiled gently. “I’ve seen you dash across the yardarm after half a bottle of whiskey, Flynn. I can’t imagine any of my agents could manage that.”
Flynn ducked his head slightly at the praise. “I mean, that’s just sea-legs, though, isn’t it?”
“Take the compliment,” Mathias said, managing to sound both firm and fond at once. “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering dinner already. A few of your favourites, before you ship out.”
“Mind? Of course I don’t mind. I’m going to be stuck with whatever Novi can scrounge up in the galley for a while yet - don’t get me wrong, she’s good at what she does, but Vol’dun isn’t exactly known for its culinary variety.” He shuddered at the thought of how many different types of carrion bird the vulpera could transform into “fried chicken”, but the things she could do with saurolisk eggs were remarkable, so at least breakfast was always good.
Flynn couldn’t bring himself to be too bothered, though, with the building anticipation of the voyage, and the immediate promise of one more night with good food, a warm bed, and his future fiancé beside him. “Also, the sooner we eat, the sooner I can get you home,” he pointed out, running a teasing hand down Mathias’s arm.
Mathias leaned into him almost imperceptibly. “My thoughts exactly,” he murmured, squeezing Flynn’s hand for a moment before pulling back to allow the innkeeper to put down their meal.
Flynn’s eyes lit up. “Smoked sagefish? You do love me!” he teased, laughing as Mathias wrinkled his nose and picked up a pork rib from the furthest side of the platter.
“The only good thing about you being away is a seafood-free diet,” he grumbled in response to Flynn’s amusement. “Anything new to report for tomorrow?”
“Oh, yeah, you’ll never guess!” Flynn announced. “Apparently my contact in Mo’aki harbour is a dragon whose visage form is a murloc! I know it’s a bit personal to ask about that sort of thing, but I have so many questions.”
~~~~
It was, Flynn thought, amazing how far the two of them had come. All those hours after Zuldazar spent waiting at the inn, wondering why he bothered hanging around if the bloke he fancied would rather be at work… He had spent some of that time nursing a pint and imagining a life where Master Shaw could spare an evening for him, but most of those fantasies didn’t go much further than Flynn getting a good look at what was behind the mask - and under the armour.
The man he was back then could never have envisaged himself and Mathias passing a casual evening at the tavern, then ambling through the twilight streets to a home they shared, where they would feed their pet fox and then retire to bed. Even the fact that he owned a bed was a revelation; let alone that he shared it with someone who could take him apart as easily as picking a lock, with a skill born of familiarity and extensive practice.
A pleasant shiver ran through him at the thought, and he gently bumped his shoulder against Mathias’s as they headed home.
Mathias glanced at him with a smirk. “Patience, Fairwind. It’s hardly a long walk.”
Flynn smirked back with a raise of his eyebrow. “It can’t have escaped your notice that I’m always impatient to get you alone, mate.”
Ruby was pacing the floorboards when they got home, and let out an excited yip at the sight of them. When the door was finally locked, Mathias visibly softened, reaching down to pet her with one hand and unfastening his armour with the other.
Flynn went through to the kitchen and Ruby trotted after him, practically vibrating with excitement as he pulled out the parcel of rabbit they’d picked up at the inn and put it in a bowl for her. He shrugged off his coat and hung it by the door, and then made his way up to the bedroom, already buzzing with anticipation.
He watched from the doorway as Mathias meticulously stripped off the rest of his armour and hung it on the stand, letting out a low whistle when he was finally down to his soft linen underlayers.
Mathias blushed prettily. “Has no one ever told you it’s rude to stare?”
“I may have missed a few lessons in etiquette while I was growing up,” Flynn replied, setting his blades aside and unlacing his boots. “Too busy learning all the important things. You know, tying a bowline, identifying fake gold, cutting off a man’s finger with minimal blood loss.”
“I suppose I can permit your indiscretion,” Mathias said teasingly, taking off his undershirt, “especially as what I intend to do to you is hardly polite.”
Flynn was immediately before him, abandoning his efforts to remove his own shirt in favour of taking Mathias in his arms. He ran appreciative hands up Mathias’s back, drawing him close and kissing him deeply. Mathias melted into the embrace, pulling Flynn’s hair loose from its ponytail and weaving a hand through it to anchor him in place as he returned the kiss fervently.
Flynn let himself get lost in the sensations of a warm body against his, the hand in his hair tugging just the right side of too hard, the definitely-not-polite yet absolutely delectable things Mathias was doing with his tongue.
He pulled back and took a moment just to look at Mathias, drinking in the sight. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted, and his fussy moustache had seen better days. Flynn knew full well that giving up sailing would be like giving up breathing, but he hated the fact that he was about to go at least three weeks without seeing this beloved face.
He turned his appreciative gaze down Mathias’s body, admiring the lean muscle and the fact that his smallclothes did nothing to conceal his interest in proceedings, but Flynn’s eyes returned, as they so often did, to the one spot of colour on his chest.
He’d slept with a lot of people with tattoos, to the point where it was almost more exotic for him to get someone naked and uncover an expanse of bare skin. It was different on Mathias though: mainlanders, by and large, were nowhere near as superstitious as Kul Tirans, and certainly less likely to find themselves at sea without the comfort of temples and talismans.
Even after a decade of captaining vessels, Flynn still touched the swallows on his shoulders every time they weighed anchor, praying to succeed in his own migration and homecoming, and would readily swear that without HOLD FAST written across his knuckles he would have lost his grasp on the lines in any number of storms.
Before Mathias first went through the portal to the Shadowlands, Flynn had begged him to take some equivalent with him: one of his whittled migratory birds, perhaps, a small token to remind him that he had to make a safe return journey.
“Tides, even a bloody spoon from the kitchen will do! I’m not asking you to pin a bouquet of star moss to your chest; just something small tucked away in your armour. It’s as much for you as it is for me, to remind you of home.”
Mathias shook his head and folded his arms. “The Knights of the Ebon Blade have ordered a stable portal to a safe place. I'm only going through for updated intelligence and to work out our operative assignments. It’s a routine trip, Flynn.”
“I'm not an idiot,” Flynn countered. “At the first sign of the King you'll be volunteering for his rescue mission. It's noble, and it's honourable, and, quite frankly, it's shit.” He stopped pacing up and down the living room and collapsed on the settee.
Mathias sat down next to him and pressed in close. “Not this time, I promise. There are places only our champion can go. They're calling her the Maw Walker now.”
“Well, that's a step up from being my crime buddy. Good for her, I guess,” Flynn said bitterly. “Doesn't make me feel any safer about you passing into the realms of death.”
Flynn tried to control his breathing, and kept his eyes on Mathias. For once, he was making no attempt to disguise his emotions; fear and worry and guilt written plainly across his face.
“I'm sorry,” he said eventually, “but, Flynn, we both knew this was going to happen. There will always be times when you’ll be at sea, or I’ll be in the field, and there’s never any guarantee that we’ll make it back in one piece.” He cupped Flynn’s face in his hands. “All I can do is promise you that I will be careful, and that if anything changes you will know. I will never just leave you.”
“I understand,” Flynn replied, leaning his forehead against Mathias’s. “It's been a learning curve for me, too, having a proper home port. Turns out it's easier being the one off having adventures than being left behind like a widow staring at a bunch of sea stalks.”
“I love you,” Mathias whispered before he pulled away. “I have to go.”
“I know,” Flynn murmured, leaning in for a lingering kiss. “I love you. Watch your back out there.”
He maintained his brave face until the door had firmly closed behind Mathias, and after a couple of hours of moping and far too much rum, he finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep.
He didn’t expect to be woken up by the sound of a key in the door and a familiar tread on the stairs.
“M’thias?” he called blearily. “What’re you doing back?”
“Briefing went longer than expected, so everyone agreed to get some rest and head out in the morning.” He finished removing his uniform and slid into bed next to Flynn, who immediately curled up against him.
“‘M sorry,” Flynn murmured. “You’re a seasoned veteran and an unbelievably skilled fighter, not to mention the bravest man I’ve ever met. I know you’re not going to do anything stupid or reckless. I just… I don’t want anything to happen to you, especially where I can’t reach.”
“Don’t apologise,” Mathias replied firmly. “It means a lot to me that someone is going to miss me - that you actually care about my wellbeing, not just the mission. And I confess, I did like your idea of having a… touchstone, while I’m away.”
Flynn sat up. “Really? What’ll it be, then? A teaspoon? The coin that I definitely didn’t pinch from the treasury in Zuldazar? I’m afraid I can’t offer a lock of my hair; I’m rather too vain for that.”
Mathias laughed and ran an appreciative hand through Flynn’s fringe. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t force you to make such a grave sacrifice. I also don’t want to risk losing anything of ours to the Shadowlands. It’s bad enough that we have to set foot in that accursed place before it’s our time.”
Flynn frowned. “Then what-?”
“I thought I’d take a leaf from your book,” Mathias continued, lighting the lantern next to the bed and turning back so that Flynn could see him properly.
“You didn't,” Flynn breathed, reaching out a hand. There, on the left side of Mathias's chest, was a small tattoo of a compass rose, a perfect mirror of his own.
“One of the kaldorei was completing ritual face tattoos for their warriors, so I asked if I could give her some coin to do this for me.” Mathias paused. “Is… is this okay?”
Flynn looked at him as if he were crazy. “Is it okay?! Are you kidding? I love it, and I love you, and no one will ever believe that you are such a romantic under that glare of yours, but that's all right because I demand to be the only one to see that side of you.”
Mathias relaxed then, almost slumping into Flynn’s arms, and Flynn kissed him soundly. “Now, were you serious about needing some rest, or will you let me demonstrate just how much I like your new artwork?”
It definitely did something to Flynn to see the tattoo: he had a few of his own to commemorate their relationship, but he also had everything from an Azerite cluster across his ribs to a poorly-drawn Drustvar pig on his tricep, so they hardly had the same impact.
That Mathias would break his own rule of “no identifying marks” - as if everyone from here to Outland didn’t know who he was at this point - for something that represented Flynn… It meant the world to him.
He could only imagine it would be the same when he could look at Mathias’s hand and see a wedding ring - perhaps better, given how visible it would be. Everyone would know that this handsome, mysterious, wonderful man had chosen him.
“Are you okay?” Mathias asked, watching fondly as Flynn ran his fingers over the design.
“Never better, love,” Flynn replied honestly, pulling Mathias into another kiss.
“You’re wearing far too much,” Mathias pointed out, voice almost a growl as he started to nibble down Flynn’s neck, whiskers scratching across his skin in a perfect balance between ticklish and arousing.
“You’re…you’re rather distracting,” Flynn gasped, pushing Mathias away long enough to unceremoniously tear off the rest of his clothes.
Mathias watched him with a smirk, and as soon as Flynn was naked he practically pounced, pushing them down onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.
They lay next to each other laughing and exchanging lazy kisses. “I'm going to miss you,” Flynn said, pulling Mathias close and running a teasing hand up his spine.
Mathias shivered and pressed up against him, pushing one muscled thigh between Flynn’s legs. “What do you want tonight?” he murmured. Without waiting for an answer, he captured Flynn’s lips in another kiss and started rocking his hips in a tantalising rhythm that left Flynn gasping for air.
“I… fuck, Mathias…” All Flynn’s attention was on the press of their bodies, the rough drag of his arousal against Mathias’s leg and the heat of Mathias’s against his hip. “I want you all over me, love. Make me feel it when we’re apart.”
Mathias’s eyes darkened with lust, and he dragged his gaze hungrily across Flynn’s body. “It would be my pleasure.”
He pulled away for a moment, and Flynn wasn’t able to suppress the disappointed whimper at the rush of cool air against him, but after grabbing the jar of oil from the nightstand Mathias returned, rolling Flynn over onto his back and covering Flynn’s body with his welcome weight.
Flynn strained up to kiss him, but Mathias only gave him a brief brush of his lips before moving down the bed, hooking one of Flynn’s legs over his shoulder, and taking Flynn's cock into his mouth.
Flynn couldn’t help the wrecked groan that emanated from him, both relieved and disappointed that all SI:7 properties had magical soundproofing: he hardly wanted the neighbours privy to all the details of his sex life, but he also wanted to show off to the world that he could bring out such passion in Master Shaw.
He ran one hand through Mathias’s hair and scratched his scalp, and Mathias gave a deep moan. Flynn’s other hand grasped at the bedsheet as Mathias tipped his head back and looked up at him; green eyes nearly all pupil, lips swollen, hair a mess. Flynn was so enraptured by the sight and sensation that he didn’t notice anything else Mathias was doing until a slick finger pressed into him.
He bucked his hips, thrusting deeper into Mathias’s mouth, and felt more than heard the light chuckle as Mathias splayed his other hand over Flynn’s hip, holding him down.
They were fortunate enough to have had almost a month of sharing a bed, so Flynn knew he didn’t need much preparation, but Mathias had a particular predilection for taking him apart with those dexterous hands, and Flynn was never going to complain about being the centre of such singular attention, especially when all he had to do was give himself over to sensation.
Flynn moaned as Mathias’s fingers skated across his most pleasurable spot, just enough to make him gasp and shudder, at the same time pulling away from his cock. The curse of having the same lover for such a long time, especially one with Mathias’s intense focus, was that the man could play him like a fiddle, and knew just how much to push to keep Flynn on the edge and desperate.
By the time he decided Flynn was ready, Flynn was sweating and practically writhing. His body couldn’t seem to decide whether it wanted to push up into Mathias’s mouth or down onto his hand; the perfect heat and sinful things he was doing with his tongue or the exquisite twist and curl of his fingers. But it didn’t matter anyway, because through it all Mathias kept him gently but firmly pinned, restrained from all but the smallest of movements.
He was panting when Mathias pulled back completely, sitting back on his heels and looking at Flynn as if he were a starving man confronted with an eight-course banquet.
“Light, look at you,” he rasped. Flynn didn’t think it was possible to become more turned on than he already was, but the sound of Mathias’s voice, rough from pleasuring him, seemed to send a jolt directly to his groin.
“I can’t believe I get to see you like this,” Mathias continued, leaning forward to capture Flynn in a filthy kiss. Flynn kissed back aggressively, scratching his nails up Mathias’s back and rocking his hips up against Mathias's hard body, and he felt more than heard Mathias gasp against his mouth.
“Turn over,” he instructed, “and let me have you.”
Flynn didn't need to be asked twice, rolling over as quickly as he could and pushing up onto his hands and knees so he could press himself back against Mathias.
“Fuck, Flynn, you're so good for me,” he whispered in admiration.
“Please, Mathias,” Flynn managed to choke out, and he heard Mathias slicking himself up with a sigh before breaching him, groaning deeply as he pushed slowly and firmly into Flynn.
They both stilled when he was fully sheathed, breathing hard already, until Flynn impatiently shifted his hips, wordlessly urging Mathias to move.
Mathias took the hint, pulling out almost completely before driving forwards, pulling a low moan from Flynn and forcing him down onto his forearms.
That - that was what Flynn meant when he asked for Mathias all over him. The sweat-slicked body pressed against him from head to toe, the strong hand running up his arms to pin his wrists against the deep sea satin sheets, the perfect fullness of Mathias's cock hitting every nerve within him.
“You feel so incredible,” Mathias murmured in his ear.
Flynn arched his back to meet Mathias's thrusts, making no attempt to stifle his whine at the slight change in angle that had him seeing stars.
It took a particularly intense bout of lovemaking to render Flynn Fairwind speechless, and Mathias, as he was wont to do, weaponised that knowledge. Sure, a bit of dirty talk was fun, and seeing exactly how deep a blush Flynn could paint over his partner's freckled skin was one of his great joys in life, but it was a whole different matter to let himself drop all artifice and just feel.
And even as for Flynn this came out in formless gasps and moans, for Mathias it came out in words. Confessions of lust and love, requests and demands, things he would never say aloud outside these moments of passion: Flynn hoarded them all, glistening jewels hidden beneath his lover’s stoic façade, ripe for the taking by only the most patient and practised hands.
“That’s it, show me how much you love this,” Mathias murmured, kissing and biting a path down Flynn's neck and shoulder. “I’ll never - by the fucking Light! - I’ll never get enough of you.”
You'll never have to, Flynn wanted to say, but all he could do was lift his head to meet Mathias in a messy kiss, unable to form words, as Mathias gripped his hip almost hard enough to bruise.
Flynn could barely breathe, panting against Mathias's mouth as Mathias’s every movement sent waves of pleasure through him. He could feel the thrusts becoming less controlled as they both drew closer to release, and Flynn cried out as Mathias's hand let go of his wrists and closed around his cock.
“That's it, that's perfect,” came Mathias's low voice, and even the slight scratch of his moustache against Flynn's ear felt arousing at this point, every inch of his body aflame. “Come for me, Flynn, let me feel you.”
With a twist of Mathias's wrist and a deep thrust that hit every nerve, Flynn was overcome, surrounded by his lover as he reached his peak. He was only vaguely aware of his own wordless scream and Mathias's answering shout as he followed him over the edge.
Flynn had learned to love Mathias’s fastidious nature, but couldn’t help reaching out a hand to grab at the air next to the bed until Mathias came back into the room, cleaning him down with a damp washcloth and pushing at his shoulder. “Flynn,” he said insistently.
“Flynn Fairwind’s not here right now.”
“Funny,” Mathias replied, his smile making the corner of his moustache quirk slightly, “because for someone who’s not here, he’s doing a stellar job of lying across all of the blankets.”
Flynn somehow found the capacity to lift himself up and tuck himself into the bed. When Mathias lay down too, Flynn curled himself around his back with a contented sigh, reluctantly flicking on his personal alarm-o-bot before the comfort of one more night in a real bed lulled him to sleep.
~~~~
Flynn was up before the dawn, packing a few final things in his seabag and luxuriating in his last proper shower for the foreseeable future. Mathias slipped in alongside him, and they exchanged unhurried pleasure under the spray before dressing to head down to the docks.
They were quiet on the way, hands brushing as they walked together in the dim light. Flynn took a bracing breath of the sea air as they reached the harbour wall, but he could feel Mathias stiffening slightly beside him. He tangled their fingers together briefly.
“I know,” he murmured, “but I’ll start to drive you mad if I’m underfoot for too long. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that.”
“What about ‘out of sight, out of mind’?” Mathias countered with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Mate, have you seen our letters? Neither of us is out of mind for long. Or out of hand, for that matter,” he added with a wink, delighted to elicit a real laugh as they started down the stairs.
He waved at some of the familiar dock workers as he passed, the harbour already a hive of activity despite the hour. Flynn could sense Mathias’s impulse to put more distance between them as they walked through the crowd, and he resisted the urge to put an arm around him as they approached the Bold Arva’s berth.
“Morning, all!” Flynn called to those already aboard. “How are we doing this fine day?”
“Ask me when the sun’s up,” grumbled his first mate, Elia, from the helm, but they brightened up when Novi appeared from below deck with a pile of bacon sandwiches.
“Got one for you here, too, Spymaster,” she said, handing it to Mathias, who was leaning at the top of the gangplank, scanning the harbour for potential threats.
Flynn pulled him by the arm to sit on a rail. “C’mon, mate, relax and have some breakfast. Maybe by the time you’re done there’ll be enough daylight for you to see who you’re glaring at.”
Mathias shook his head but bit into his sandwich with relish, and let Flynn lean against him as they ate.
The rest of the Arva’s crew arrived in dribs and drabs, bidding their various family members farewell as they set about their duties, and Flynn sighed.
“Looks like it’s time for me to earn my keep,” he said, trying to keep his tone light as he stood up. “Give me a hand with this?” He gestured at his seabag, and Mathias immediately grabbed it and followed him below deck. The crew were snickering a bit at Flynn’s lack of subtlety, but he didn’t care at all as they strode down to his cabin.
As soon as the door was shut behind them, Mathias dropped the bag and grabbed Flynn around the shoulders, pulling him close.
Flynn went willingly, wrapping his arms around Mathias’s waist and looking him in the eye. He took a moment to bask in the warmth of Mathias’s gaze, no trace of his stern mask.
“Don’t miss me too much,” Flynn murmured. “I know it’s tempting to spend every day gazing out from the harbour wall, but try to get some work done.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Mathias replied, deadpan. “I was thinking of getting a locket with your picture inside so I can clutch it to my chest while I stare at the water.”
Flynn smiled and leaned down to rest their foreheads together. “You joke, but there’s a S.E.L.F.I.E. of us locked away in your second desk drawer, and I’d wager you spend a fair amount of time looking at it and sighing while I’m at sea.”
“Of course. Incredibly dramatic, mournful sighs. Luckily my agents assume I’m torturing someone back there rather than playing the pining maiden.”
They both laughed softly, and Mathias tilted his head to kiss Flynn firmly but chastely. “Stay safe out there,” he whispered.
“You know me,” Flynn said, tightening his grip so they couldn’t pull apart quite yet.
“That’s why I said it,” Mathias replied with a quirk of his lips. He gave Flynn one final kiss. “I love you. Keep the wind in your sails.”
Even though he was the superstitious one who had instructed Mathias that mainlanders’ good luck sayings were anything but, Flynn’s heart still fluttered every time Mathias sent him off with the proper Kul Tiran words. “I love you, too,” he managed to choke out. “Now stop distracting me, I have a ship to captain.”
Mathias chuckled and they shared a long, tender look before he slipped through the door and was gone.
Flynn physically shook himself and turned to grab the map lying ready on his desk. Before he left the cabin, he loitered in the doorway, trying to capture the echo of Mathias’s warmth for one indulgent moment. Buoyed, he headed up to the helm with a spring in his step, ready for his next adventure.
Chapter Two
Author: asterie_smiles
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Word Count: 22k
Summary: At the Trading Post, we saw Flynn trying (and failing) to surprise Mathias with a new pet. What would happen if he were planning a bigger surprise: like, say, a marriage proposal?
Takes place at the end of Dragonflight, with low-key TWW foreshadowing but no spoilers.
Betas: minnow_53, who willingly jumped into an unfamiliar fandom to beta this for me.
Chapters two and three will be posted on Monday and Friday - you can also read and subscribe on AO3 for updates!
I'm begging for you to take my hand,
Wreck my plans,
That's my man.
‘willow’, Taylor Swift.
Flynn Fairwind: I have a surprise for you later.
Mathias Shaw: I know.
Flynn Fairwind: You can't... I was just there! How could you possibly know?
Mathias Shaw: Hah! It’s my job to know.
Flynn Fairwind: Spoilsport!
- World of Warcraft Dragonflight, 10.0.5
Chapter One
“Oh come on, it’s not that funny!” Flynn grumbled.
“It kind of is, though,” Taelia replied, her laughter making Galeheart visibly shake as she flew beside him across Stormsong Valley. “Really, who tries to surprise a spymaster? It’s a good job you’re pretty, because you can be rather dense sometimes.”
“I just wanted to do something nice for the bloke,” he protested. “I don’t see why everyone thinks it's so ridiculous. Besides, he adores that little critter!”
Taelia was clearly still giggling a bit, but her curiosity got the better of her. “What did you even get him, in the end?”
“Well, all the adventurers seemed to be going nuts over some ogre child, for whatever reason. Seems like inviting trouble to let that sort of thing in your house, if you ask me. No, I found the cutest red fox kit curled up in the back of the Trading Post and just knew she was it.” Flynn smiled at the memory of creeping through the throng of heroes to find her, fast asleep and oblivious. His first thought was that Mathias could take some lessons in how to sleep without one eye open for once, and his second was that he would take a bullet for this tiny creature.
“A fox kit? I thought it was you that wanted one of those,” Taelia said, suspicion lacing her voice.
“Hey, this was a ninety-percent selfless act, I'll have you know! I can hardly take her on the ship with me, can I? Much as I’d prefer that to Scythe, the vicious little bugger.” He thought with despair about their ship’s cat, who kept not only the rodents at bay, but also the entire crew, except one particularly bloodthirsty gunner who shared his killer instincts. “Anyway, she’s called Ruby, and I’m pretty sure he already loves her more than me. She certainly gets to spend more time in his lap.” He sighed dramatically.
“I really can’t picture your Mathias cuddling up with a fox kit, to be honest,” Taelia mused.
“Oh, you should see them together, Tae!” Flynn couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips as he pictured his little family, and was glad that Taelia was too busy bringing Galeheart in for a landing to witness his dopey expression. “Yes, he was a bit unsure at first, but then she popped into stealth and even he couldn’t find her, and all of a sudden he was a proper proud father. Sometimes she curls up on his paperwork, and he just gets all soft and actually lets himself relax for the evening.”
“I never thought I’d hear the spymaster of the Alliance described as soft.”
Flynn cackled. “Well, I am quite fond of his hard bits, if you get my drift.”
“Flynn, everyone always gets your drift,” said Taelia flatly, rolling her eyes.
“There’s a driftwood joke there somewhere,” Flynn muttered absent-mindedly, jumping down from his riding parrot. Now adventurers could island-hop without the war effort resting on their Azerite haul, he’d been able to persuade a party of them to kidnap - birdnap, he supposed - a parrot from some Southsea freebooters off the coast of Crestfall. One of his greatest joys in life was dragging her through the crowded Stormwind portal room every time he came to Boralus. Partly because the mages hated it, and partly because each trip yielded a queue of champions paying to sail out and nab one of their own.
He reached into his pack and fed his parrot some crackers, before turning to survey the valley. “Tides, it's good to be back!” he announced, throwing himself down and breathing in the familiar smells of the earth, the sea, and the tar from the shipwright below.
“How long are you here for?” Taelia asked, lowering herself much more gracefully onto the grass beside him.
“Just the day, I’m afraid. The Arva’s putting out from Stormwind next week so I hopped through the portal to get my marching orders from the Lord Admiral.” He patted his coat pocket, reassuring himself that the shipping manifesto and contract were still intact after their flight.
“Oh? Where are you off to?”
Flynn reached into his pocket and unfurled the scroll. “Northrend, by the looks of it. Dragonblight, with cargo up from Karazhan and a stopover in the Azure Span.”
Taelia grimaced. “May the tides be with you, then. At least it's nearing summer, you wouldn't have wanted to be heading through the North Sea much earlier than this.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Flynn kept skimming the papers. “Hmmm, interesting. Looks like we’re transporting some magical equipment that would get messed up by teleportation. Blah blah Galakrond, blah blah energy traces, blah blah end of the world… Add to that some cargo from the Iskaara Tuskarr for a cultural exchange with the Kalu'ak… Ah.” He winced. “Which is apparently my cover story, and the first part is all strictly classified. Bollocks. Don’t suppose you can just pretend you didn’t hear anything?”
“Honestly, I don’t think our friendship would have lasted this long if I couldn’t tune out at least half of what you say.”
“Taelia Fordragon, you wound me!” Flynn announced dramatically, clasping his hands to his chest.
She laughed and threw an apple at him. “You’re lucky Mathias loves you, because you’re a walking confidentiality breach.”
“To be fair, the Tuskarr cover story is ridiculous. They have more than enough ships of their own, and they’re far better equipped to deal with ice than the Arva. Is it too much to ask for some verisimilitude here?”
He could see Taelia mouthing ‘verisimilitude’, and decided to carry on rather than being hurt that his best friend underestimated his extensive vocabulary.
“Besides, I can be sneaky! I got you all the way out here for a surprise picnic, without a single SI:7 agent on our tail, I might add.” If he’d had to take a nervous look over his shoulder and focus intently on trying to detect anyone hiding in the grass just to make sure, well, he was hardly going to mention that.
“And here I thought we were having a nice friend date, not an exercise in espionage.” She didn’t sound too bothered, though, and peered over into Flynn’s pack to see what else was in there.
“We are!” Flynn began to pile the rest of the picnic food between them. “Apples, which are not weapons, honey pot pies, ravenberry tarts, Mildenhall mead… I even picked up some of the cheese and bread you like from Stormwind on my way. See, I am a thoughtful best friend, and not at all luring you out here to help solve my problems.”
“So, go on, then, spit it out. What problems need solving, if we’re not just here for the view?”
“Hey, we’re also giving Galeheart a workout.” He looked at the gryphon askance. “Not that you need it, wonderbird, you’re in excellent condition, as ever.” Galeheart looked as if she approved, but that could have been because he’d packed some of her favourite rat kabobs from the Deeprun Tram.
“Flynn.” Taelia gave him a firm stare.
“Taelia,” he mimicked. He then shook his head dramatically, took a fortifying breath, and steeled himself. “IwanttoaskMathiastomarryme.”
She froze with a slice of pie halfway to her mouth. “I’m sorry, did you just say what I think you said?”
Flynn took another deep breath. “I want to ask Mathias to marry me. And I want it to be a surprise, but clearly I’m shit at them, so I need all hands on deck to make this happen.”
Taelia startled him by flinging her arms round his neck, squashing some of the picnic food in the process.
“Careful, mate, you nearly knocked over the booze!” he pointed out, but made no move to pull away from the tight hug.
“It has a cork in it, you idiot,” she said fondly, sitting back down next to him with a hand on his arm. “Besides, this is a big deal! How long have you been thinking about it?”
“Ages, really. I mean, I’ve known for years now that - well, he's it for me, Tae.” Flynn looked at the sky, trying not to get teary. “I never thought it was possible to spend that much time with someone and not want to give them a nudge off the yardarm, yet here I am with a house, and a pet that’s not a parrot, and someone who genuinely knows me and for some tidesforsaken reason still wants me around. And the sex. Taelia, the sex! I honestly thought it would be boring to only sleep with one person, but with him it's just… Did I ever tell you about the time we got each other off in an alleyway while trying not to break stealth?” He aimed for a lascivious smile, but could tell he just looked besotted.
“No, and I could have perfectly happily lived the rest of my life without hearing that sordid detail.” Taelia wrinkled her nose. “All those people who think he must be too buttoned-up for you… I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse to be one of the few who knows better.”
He laughed. “Just don’t let on to him that I tell you this stuff, okay? If he knew, we’d both be sharkbait.”
“Or,” she said hopefully, “you could stop telling me about your sex life altogether. I’d be quite happy with that, thank you very much.”
“Come off it, we both know you live vicariously through me and my dashing soon-to-be-fiancé.”
She snorted. “Please! As if I don’t have my own love life.”
Flynn sat bolt upright and stared at her. “Okay, I’m going to need details.”
“No, we came all the way out here to work on your proposal, remember?” She poked him in the side. “So, what’s the plan?”
Flynn flopped back onto the grass in despair. “There is no plan yet, because I cannot for the life of me figure out how to surprise the man. Tides, I can’t even get the bloody ring without him knowing. He watches every reputable jeweller on Azeroth for stolen goods, and most of the disreputable ones are his informants.”
“Some of the heroes about are excellent jewelcrafters,” Taelia suggested, passing him the flagon of mead for consolation. “One of them made me a gorgeous rubelite necklace during the War.”
“Most of the heroes are far too loyal to the Alliance, and any meetings I have with the Horde will be brought straight back to SI:7, armistice or no armistice. At this point I’m thinking of going to the place where my last boatswain got his gold teeth done, and that hardly screams romance, does it?”
He took a larger swig of booze than he probably should have, ignoring Mathias’s voice in his head: “I was rather hoping you wouldn’t need to drown yourself any more.” And he hadn’t, not in ages, lonely nights at sea notwithstanding, but it was proving very tricky for sober Flynn to come up with creative proposal solutions.
“Tell you what,” offered Taelia, “next time I’m sent to Oribos, how about I see what the Brokers can rustle up? If you want untraceable, they’re your lot, though the Tidemother only knows what they'll ask in return.”
Flynn raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh yeah?”
She grimaced slightly, clearly running through her memories of various transactions. “Necklaces of fangs, priceless jewels, pieces of twine… I don’t pretend to understand, but they seem to be doing a roaring trade.”
“Thanks, Tae, I owe you one. Need to cultivate as many options as possible in the hopes that one of them slips past SI:7.”
“Such a romantic,” Taelia giggled. “Imagine if the only avenue that panned out was a glass trinket from the Darkmoon Faire, or some goblin contraption that explodes when you twist it round your finger! Though I imagine SI:7 probably goes in for that sort of thing.”
He nodded sagely. “Oh, aye, anything can double up as an emergency explosive, especially where Steelspark and Keeshan are involved. That said, I'm pretty sure Mathias wouldn't want his engagement ring to go up in smoke and take his hand with it.” Flynn winced at the image, being rather fond of Mathias’s hands and keen on them staying right where they were. Or all over him, that would be good, too. “To be fair, though, he is an immensely practical man. Maybe I should just repurpose a standard-issue codebreaker ring - not that I can get into the supply room undetected. Might be cute, though, a ring for our private cipher.”
“You have your own cipher? I thought you weren’t even officially part of the organisation,” Taelia said with interest.
“Yes, but how else would we be able to correspond while we’re working? Granted, some of the urgency of the smuttier content gets lost by the time I’ve translated it all,” he mused, heat rushing to his face unbidden at the thought of the racier letters. Perhaps it was time to get them out of his safe deposit box to have something fun to read on the way to Northrend.
Taelia rolled her eyes. “So while everyone thinks he’s decoding classified information, he’s actually reading - and writing - pornographic messages?”
“Yes. Well, not all the time, some of them are proper love letters or actual sneaky spy things. But a solid twenty percent, by my reckoning,” Flynn calculated smugly.
“I can’t believe -” Taelia began, before pausing to think. She sat forward and looked him directly in the eye. “Flynn Fairwind. You have got to marry that man.”
He winked at her, but couldn’t hide the slightly lovesick smile. “Then let’s make that happen, shall we?” he asked, grabbing some parchment from his pack. “Right, Plan A…”
~~~~
Flynn was full of ideas by the eve of his trip to Northrend, and he hoped that his nervous energy was coming across as simply the anticipation of the voyage ahead. He’d managed to make a few enquiries as he went about his normal business of provisioning the Bold Arva, most of which would double up as decent red herrings for any SI:7 eyes and ears - which reminded him, he needed to pick up that extra salt cod he’d requisitioned.
There were still a few more things to set in motion before the end of the day, loath as he was to leave Mathias’s side before such a long trip, and Flynn couldn’t help tapping his foot restlessly as he tried to figure out a way to move around Stormwind without agents trailing him. It was sweet that Mathias wanted him to be protected, but a pain in the arse when he wanted to surprise the man.
“So, Mathias, I was thinking,” Flynn began as innocently as he could manage.
Mathias didn’t miss a beat, turning to him with a shake of his head. “No.”
Flynn threw his arms up in frustration. “Oh, come on, you don’t even know what I’m going to say! You could be turning down a spectacular shag right now.”
“I’ll take that chance,” said Mathias dryly, “especially as I’m at work.” He made a pointed gesture at the SI:7 personnel dotted around the room. For spies, they were doing a terrible job of pretending not to eavesdrop.
“Speaking of,” Flynn segued, rather elegantly, “how would you feel about giving the nice, hardworking agents that follow me around the day off?”
Mathias folded his arms sternly, which was fair enough given that Flynn had been asking that same question at least once a month for years now. Flynn tried not to let on that this time was far more important.
“Your personal detail already changes every other day because, for some unfathomable reason, they find you exhausting to supervise,” he pointed out, words softened by the lovely little teasing smile that was only ever directed at Flynn. “Therefore, no.”
Flynn pushed himself up from where he was leaning against the wall and moved towards Mathias, raising a placating hand. “First, I am a delight, and keeping track of me is much more fun than loitering around the Keep watching over the Regent.” He could see a couple of the agents around them nodding slightly in assent. “Second, how can you make a decision without knowing all the facts? Don’t you care to find out why I’m asking?”
“I have a funny feeling you wouldn’t give me a straight answer,” Mathias pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
“Okay, that’s fair,” Flynn agreed, “but what if I just want to try and surprise you?”
“Flynn. Has it ever occurred to you that I might not like surprises?” Mathias pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, a habit that Flynn adored, if only because he was the only person able to smooth out the furrows in that tired brow. He itched to reach for Mathias, to kiss his forehead and remind him that not everything was a matter of life and death, but it was hardly the time or place for such open affection.
Flynn was endlessly proud of how far Mathias had come in terms of letting those around him see his human side, but such vulnerability was still far too much. He wondered idly what their wedding would be like; if Mathias would be willing - or indeed, able - to let the people around them glimpse the sheer amount of feeling trapped under those layers of leather and duty.
Though Flynn cherished the privilege of being the one person able to see beneath the surface of Mathias Shaw, it would make for an awkward exchange of vows if his husband-to-be looked aloof throughout the whole thing - but that was all moot if he couldn’t pull off a proposal in the first place.
“I get it, mate, I really do,” he said, placatingly. “Professional paranoia and all that. But that’s just because there aren’t exactly many good surprises in your line of work, are there? Not often you turn up to a drop point and find a nice box of chocolates.”
An almost imperceptible flicker of expression crossed Mathias’s face and Flynn paused for a moment. “Or is it?”
At that, Mathias's face completely shut down, but not before Flynn realised he was onto something.
He snapped his fingers. “Wait, I’ve got it! That does happen, but not because someone’s trying to poison you or you’re having a torrid affair with someone deep undercover - though if you are, I’m taking the arcane fryer with me when I move out. No, chocolates are a code, aren't they?” he asked, excited. “If an operative has left you some cinderbloom toffees they need immediate extraction, that sort of thing?”
Matthias sighed heavily in defeat, but he looked grudgingly impressed. “That is well above your clearance level, Fairwind. How do you always seem to guess these things?”
“I wish I could say it’s my boundless intellect - though that definitely has a part to play. No, it’s because of you, my dear Spymaster. You’re so enigmatic yet so predictable.”
At Mathias's withering look, Flynn held up his hands. “Calm down, mate, you're only predictable to me. Odds are, if people see an innocuous love token tucked away somewhere, they're going to take it at face value and leave it be. It takes someone uniquely jaded and cynical to use a thing like that for their own ends, and I'd wager there’s few more jaded and cynical than SI:7’s own Master Shaw.”
One of the agents in the room snickered, and Mathias turned to him sharply.
“Flintrest, need I remind you that composure can be the difference between life and death in the field? Report to Shiv and ask for some work that will keep you quiet.”
When the poor dwarf had trudged downstairs, Flynn grinned from ear to ear. “See?” he stage-whispered. “Uniquely jaded and cynical.”
“Is a little professionalism too much to ask?” Mathias let despair colour his tone, and Flynn’s smile grew wider.
“From that poor sod? Not at all. From me? Absolutely.”
“Why are you like this?” Mathias asked, looking up as if the Light were going to intercede for him. When nothing happened, he turned to the draenei studiously organising a bookshelf next to him. “Agent Kaaliah, can you please draft an urgent missive to our operatives in the field that the candy codes have been compromised? Highest level encryption, if you please.” His look of exhausted resignation made Flynn’s heart flutter. Funny what love could do to a bloke.
“I’ll let you get on with that then, shall I?” he said with a smile, bouncing on his heels and clasping his hands behind his back to resist the urge to drop a kiss at the corner of Mathias’s mouth. “If you need me before dinner, I’m sure you already know where I’ll be.”
Mathias just smirked and leaned in to murmur in Flynn’s ear. “If you do wish to lead your bodyguards on a merry chase, today wouldn’t be a bad time. They’ll have a good few weeks to recover while you’re at sea. Besides, this lot could do with a challenge.”
Flynn’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?” he whispered back.
Mathias nodded. “But, Flynn, nothing dangerous. I mean it. If you get yourself killed…”
“...you’ll have Mishka resurrect me just so you can kill me again yourself, got it,” Flynn recited. He pulled back with a smile. “I’m off then. Places to go, people to see, and so on, and so forth. I’ll see you at the Pig and Whistle tonight, seven bells. Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mathias replied, looking at Flynn with warmth for a long moment before he schooled his face back into the cool mask of the master of SI:7. Even that shift couldn’t dampen Flynn’s mood as he whistled a favourite shanty and headed down into the city.
~~~~
By the time dinner rolled round, Flynn was still in high spirits. Everything was ready for the Arva to put out with the morning tide, and he’d had a lot of fun playing hide-and-seek with his bodyguards - though it was probably best that he was going to be gone for a while, because Cooper was furious about falling into the canal.
He’d managed to plant a few more leads for Mathias - a suspicious hour watching things explode in the Dwarven District, some bizarre bookshop purchases, and far more time at the tailoring store than was needed to pick up his order of sailcloth. He was still no closer to a ring, but at least Mathias would have his hands full chasing down dead ends while he figured that part out.
“You’re here!” he said with surprise, bounding up the stairs to Mathias’s preferred table, tucked in the corner of the balcony.
“I am capable of being on time,” Mathias protested, pushing over a frothing mug of dwarven stout.
Flynn took the seat next to him and took a healthy swig. “Well, yes, but you’re also capable of disembowelling a Vrykul with a teaspoon. Doesn’t mean you make a habit of it.”
Mathias gestured past Flynn, dismissing his protection detail for the evening, and despite the stealth Flynn could still make out Cooper’s damp footprints making a desultory retreat from the inn.
“What did you do to them this time?” Mathias asked.
“I did absolutely nothing,” Flynn asserted. “It’s not my fault Cooper’s got a terrible sense of balance. Need to get him up on the rooftops for some practice, I reckon. Bit embarrassing that I’m twice his size and still more graceful.”
Mathias smiled gently. “I’ve seen you dash across the yardarm after half a bottle of whiskey, Flynn. I can’t imagine any of my agents could manage that.”
Flynn ducked his head slightly at the praise. “I mean, that’s just sea-legs, though, isn’t it?”
“Take the compliment,” Mathias said, managing to sound both firm and fond at once. “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering dinner already. A few of your favourites, before you ship out.”
“Mind? Of course I don’t mind. I’m going to be stuck with whatever Novi can scrounge up in the galley for a while yet - don’t get me wrong, she’s good at what she does, but Vol’dun isn’t exactly known for its culinary variety.” He shuddered at the thought of how many different types of carrion bird the vulpera could transform into “fried chicken”, but the things she could do with saurolisk eggs were remarkable, so at least breakfast was always good.
Flynn couldn’t bring himself to be too bothered, though, with the building anticipation of the voyage, and the immediate promise of one more night with good food, a warm bed, and his future fiancé beside him. “Also, the sooner we eat, the sooner I can get you home,” he pointed out, running a teasing hand down Mathias’s arm.
Mathias leaned into him almost imperceptibly. “My thoughts exactly,” he murmured, squeezing Flynn’s hand for a moment before pulling back to allow the innkeeper to put down their meal.
Flynn’s eyes lit up. “Smoked sagefish? You do love me!” he teased, laughing as Mathias wrinkled his nose and picked up a pork rib from the furthest side of the platter.
“The only good thing about you being away is a seafood-free diet,” he grumbled in response to Flynn’s amusement. “Anything new to report for tomorrow?”
“Oh, yeah, you’ll never guess!” Flynn announced. “Apparently my contact in Mo’aki harbour is a dragon whose visage form is a murloc! I know it’s a bit personal to ask about that sort of thing, but I have so many questions.”
~~~~
It was, Flynn thought, amazing how far the two of them had come. All those hours after Zuldazar spent waiting at the inn, wondering why he bothered hanging around if the bloke he fancied would rather be at work… He had spent some of that time nursing a pint and imagining a life where Master Shaw could spare an evening for him, but most of those fantasies didn’t go much further than Flynn getting a good look at what was behind the mask - and under the armour.
The man he was back then could never have envisaged himself and Mathias passing a casual evening at the tavern, then ambling through the twilight streets to a home they shared, where they would feed their pet fox and then retire to bed. Even the fact that he owned a bed was a revelation; let alone that he shared it with someone who could take him apart as easily as picking a lock, with a skill born of familiarity and extensive practice.
A pleasant shiver ran through him at the thought, and he gently bumped his shoulder against Mathias’s as they headed home.
Mathias glanced at him with a smirk. “Patience, Fairwind. It’s hardly a long walk.”
Flynn smirked back with a raise of his eyebrow. “It can’t have escaped your notice that I’m always impatient to get you alone, mate.”
Ruby was pacing the floorboards when they got home, and let out an excited yip at the sight of them. When the door was finally locked, Mathias visibly softened, reaching down to pet her with one hand and unfastening his armour with the other.
Flynn went through to the kitchen and Ruby trotted after him, practically vibrating with excitement as he pulled out the parcel of rabbit they’d picked up at the inn and put it in a bowl for her. He shrugged off his coat and hung it by the door, and then made his way up to the bedroom, already buzzing with anticipation.
He watched from the doorway as Mathias meticulously stripped off the rest of his armour and hung it on the stand, letting out a low whistle when he was finally down to his soft linen underlayers.
Mathias blushed prettily. “Has no one ever told you it’s rude to stare?”
“I may have missed a few lessons in etiquette while I was growing up,” Flynn replied, setting his blades aside and unlacing his boots. “Too busy learning all the important things. You know, tying a bowline, identifying fake gold, cutting off a man’s finger with minimal blood loss.”
“I suppose I can permit your indiscretion,” Mathias said teasingly, taking off his undershirt, “especially as what I intend to do to you is hardly polite.”
Flynn was immediately before him, abandoning his efforts to remove his own shirt in favour of taking Mathias in his arms. He ran appreciative hands up Mathias’s back, drawing him close and kissing him deeply. Mathias melted into the embrace, pulling Flynn’s hair loose from its ponytail and weaving a hand through it to anchor him in place as he returned the kiss fervently.
Flynn let himself get lost in the sensations of a warm body against his, the hand in his hair tugging just the right side of too hard, the definitely-not-polite yet absolutely delectable things Mathias was doing with his tongue.
He pulled back and took a moment just to look at Mathias, drinking in the sight. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted, and his fussy moustache had seen better days. Flynn knew full well that giving up sailing would be like giving up breathing, but he hated the fact that he was about to go at least three weeks without seeing this beloved face.
He turned his appreciative gaze down Mathias’s body, admiring the lean muscle and the fact that his smallclothes did nothing to conceal his interest in proceedings, but Flynn’s eyes returned, as they so often did, to the one spot of colour on his chest.
He’d slept with a lot of people with tattoos, to the point where it was almost more exotic for him to get someone naked and uncover an expanse of bare skin. It was different on Mathias though: mainlanders, by and large, were nowhere near as superstitious as Kul Tirans, and certainly less likely to find themselves at sea without the comfort of temples and talismans.
Even after a decade of captaining vessels, Flynn still touched the swallows on his shoulders every time they weighed anchor, praying to succeed in his own migration and homecoming, and would readily swear that without HOLD FAST written across his knuckles he would have lost his grasp on the lines in any number of storms.
Before Mathias first went through the portal to the Shadowlands, Flynn had begged him to take some equivalent with him: one of his whittled migratory birds, perhaps, a small token to remind him that he had to make a safe return journey.
“Tides, even a bloody spoon from the kitchen will do! I’m not asking you to pin a bouquet of star moss to your chest; just something small tucked away in your armour. It’s as much for you as it is for me, to remind you of home.”
Mathias shook his head and folded his arms. “The Knights of the Ebon Blade have ordered a stable portal to a safe place. I'm only going through for updated intelligence and to work out our operative assignments. It’s a routine trip, Flynn.”
“I'm not an idiot,” Flynn countered. “At the first sign of the King you'll be volunteering for his rescue mission. It's noble, and it's honourable, and, quite frankly, it's shit.” He stopped pacing up and down the living room and collapsed on the settee.
Mathias sat down next to him and pressed in close. “Not this time, I promise. There are places only our champion can go. They're calling her the Maw Walker now.”
“Well, that's a step up from being my crime buddy. Good for her, I guess,” Flynn said bitterly. “Doesn't make me feel any safer about you passing into the realms of death.”
Flynn tried to control his breathing, and kept his eyes on Mathias. For once, he was making no attempt to disguise his emotions; fear and worry and guilt written plainly across his face.
“I'm sorry,” he said eventually, “but, Flynn, we both knew this was going to happen. There will always be times when you’ll be at sea, or I’ll be in the field, and there’s never any guarantee that we’ll make it back in one piece.” He cupped Flynn’s face in his hands. “All I can do is promise you that I will be careful, and that if anything changes you will know. I will never just leave you.”
“I understand,” Flynn replied, leaning his forehead against Mathias’s. “It's been a learning curve for me, too, having a proper home port. Turns out it's easier being the one off having adventures than being left behind like a widow staring at a bunch of sea stalks.”
“I love you,” Mathias whispered before he pulled away. “I have to go.”
“I know,” Flynn murmured, leaning in for a lingering kiss. “I love you. Watch your back out there.”
He maintained his brave face until the door had firmly closed behind Mathias, and after a couple of hours of moping and far too much rum, he finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep.
He didn’t expect to be woken up by the sound of a key in the door and a familiar tread on the stairs.
“M’thias?” he called blearily. “What’re you doing back?”
“Briefing went longer than expected, so everyone agreed to get some rest and head out in the morning.” He finished removing his uniform and slid into bed next to Flynn, who immediately curled up against him.
“‘M sorry,” Flynn murmured. “You’re a seasoned veteran and an unbelievably skilled fighter, not to mention the bravest man I’ve ever met. I know you’re not going to do anything stupid or reckless. I just… I don’t want anything to happen to you, especially where I can’t reach.”
“Don’t apologise,” Mathias replied firmly. “It means a lot to me that someone is going to miss me - that you actually care about my wellbeing, not just the mission. And I confess, I did like your idea of having a… touchstone, while I’m away.”
Flynn sat up. “Really? What’ll it be, then? A teaspoon? The coin that I definitely didn’t pinch from the treasury in Zuldazar? I’m afraid I can’t offer a lock of my hair; I’m rather too vain for that.”
Mathias laughed and ran an appreciative hand through Flynn’s fringe. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t force you to make such a grave sacrifice. I also don’t want to risk losing anything of ours to the Shadowlands. It’s bad enough that we have to set foot in that accursed place before it’s our time.”
Flynn frowned. “Then what-?”
“I thought I’d take a leaf from your book,” Mathias continued, lighting the lantern next to the bed and turning back so that Flynn could see him properly.
“You didn't,” Flynn breathed, reaching out a hand. There, on the left side of Mathias's chest, was a small tattoo of a compass rose, a perfect mirror of his own.
“One of the kaldorei was completing ritual face tattoos for their warriors, so I asked if I could give her some coin to do this for me.” Mathias paused. “Is… is this okay?”
Flynn looked at him as if he were crazy. “Is it okay?! Are you kidding? I love it, and I love you, and no one will ever believe that you are such a romantic under that glare of yours, but that's all right because I demand to be the only one to see that side of you.”
Mathias relaxed then, almost slumping into Flynn’s arms, and Flynn kissed him soundly. “Now, were you serious about needing some rest, or will you let me demonstrate just how much I like your new artwork?”
It definitely did something to Flynn to see the tattoo: he had a few of his own to commemorate their relationship, but he also had everything from an Azerite cluster across his ribs to a poorly-drawn Drustvar pig on his tricep, so they hardly had the same impact.
That Mathias would break his own rule of “no identifying marks” - as if everyone from here to Outland didn’t know who he was at this point - for something that represented Flynn… It meant the world to him.
He could only imagine it would be the same when he could look at Mathias’s hand and see a wedding ring - perhaps better, given how visible it would be. Everyone would know that this handsome, mysterious, wonderful man had chosen him.
“Are you okay?” Mathias asked, watching fondly as Flynn ran his fingers over the design.
“Never better, love,” Flynn replied honestly, pulling Mathias into another kiss.
“You’re wearing far too much,” Mathias pointed out, voice almost a growl as he started to nibble down Flynn’s neck, whiskers scratching across his skin in a perfect balance between ticklish and arousing.
“You’re…you’re rather distracting,” Flynn gasped, pushing Mathias away long enough to unceremoniously tear off the rest of his clothes.
Mathias watched him with a smirk, and as soon as Flynn was naked he practically pounced, pushing them down onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.
They lay next to each other laughing and exchanging lazy kisses. “I'm going to miss you,” Flynn said, pulling Mathias close and running a teasing hand up his spine.
Mathias shivered and pressed up against him, pushing one muscled thigh between Flynn’s legs. “What do you want tonight?” he murmured. Without waiting for an answer, he captured Flynn’s lips in another kiss and started rocking his hips in a tantalising rhythm that left Flynn gasping for air.
“I… fuck, Mathias…” All Flynn’s attention was on the press of their bodies, the rough drag of his arousal against Mathias’s leg and the heat of Mathias’s against his hip. “I want you all over me, love. Make me feel it when we’re apart.”
Mathias’s eyes darkened with lust, and he dragged his gaze hungrily across Flynn’s body. “It would be my pleasure.”
He pulled away for a moment, and Flynn wasn’t able to suppress the disappointed whimper at the rush of cool air against him, but after grabbing the jar of oil from the nightstand Mathias returned, rolling Flynn over onto his back and covering Flynn’s body with his welcome weight.
Flynn strained up to kiss him, but Mathias only gave him a brief brush of his lips before moving down the bed, hooking one of Flynn’s legs over his shoulder, and taking Flynn's cock into his mouth.
Flynn couldn’t help the wrecked groan that emanated from him, both relieved and disappointed that all SI:7 properties had magical soundproofing: he hardly wanted the neighbours privy to all the details of his sex life, but he also wanted to show off to the world that he could bring out such passion in Master Shaw.
He ran one hand through Mathias’s hair and scratched his scalp, and Mathias gave a deep moan. Flynn’s other hand grasped at the bedsheet as Mathias tipped his head back and looked up at him; green eyes nearly all pupil, lips swollen, hair a mess. Flynn was so enraptured by the sight and sensation that he didn’t notice anything else Mathias was doing until a slick finger pressed into him.
He bucked his hips, thrusting deeper into Mathias’s mouth, and felt more than heard the light chuckle as Mathias splayed his other hand over Flynn’s hip, holding him down.
They were fortunate enough to have had almost a month of sharing a bed, so Flynn knew he didn’t need much preparation, but Mathias had a particular predilection for taking him apart with those dexterous hands, and Flynn was never going to complain about being the centre of such singular attention, especially when all he had to do was give himself over to sensation.
Flynn moaned as Mathias’s fingers skated across his most pleasurable spot, just enough to make him gasp and shudder, at the same time pulling away from his cock. The curse of having the same lover for such a long time, especially one with Mathias’s intense focus, was that the man could play him like a fiddle, and knew just how much to push to keep Flynn on the edge and desperate.
By the time he decided Flynn was ready, Flynn was sweating and practically writhing. His body couldn’t seem to decide whether it wanted to push up into Mathias’s mouth or down onto his hand; the perfect heat and sinful things he was doing with his tongue or the exquisite twist and curl of his fingers. But it didn’t matter anyway, because through it all Mathias kept him gently but firmly pinned, restrained from all but the smallest of movements.
He was panting when Mathias pulled back completely, sitting back on his heels and looking at Flynn as if he were a starving man confronted with an eight-course banquet.
“Light, look at you,” he rasped. Flynn didn’t think it was possible to become more turned on than he already was, but the sound of Mathias’s voice, rough from pleasuring him, seemed to send a jolt directly to his groin.
“I can’t believe I get to see you like this,” Mathias continued, leaning forward to capture Flynn in a filthy kiss. Flynn kissed back aggressively, scratching his nails up Mathias’s back and rocking his hips up against Mathias's hard body, and he felt more than heard Mathias gasp against his mouth.
“Turn over,” he instructed, “and let me have you.”
Flynn didn't need to be asked twice, rolling over as quickly as he could and pushing up onto his hands and knees so he could press himself back against Mathias.
“Fuck, Flynn, you're so good for me,” he whispered in admiration.
“Please, Mathias,” Flynn managed to choke out, and he heard Mathias slicking himself up with a sigh before breaching him, groaning deeply as he pushed slowly and firmly into Flynn.
They both stilled when he was fully sheathed, breathing hard already, until Flynn impatiently shifted his hips, wordlessly urging Mathias to move.
Mathias took the hint, pulling out almost completely before driving forwards, pulling a low moan from Flynn and forcing him down onto his forearms.
That - that was what Flynn meant when he asked for Mathias all over him. The sweat-slicked body pressed against him from head to toe, the strong hand running up his arms to pin his wrists against the deep sea satin sheets, the perfect fullness of Mathias's cock hitting every nerve within him.
“You feel so incredible,” Mathias murmured in his ear.
Flynn arched his back to meet Mathias's thrusts, making no attempt to stifle his whine at the slight change in angle that had him seeing stars.
It took a particularly intense bout of lovemaking to render Flynn Fairwind speechless, and Mathias, as he was wont to do, weaponised that knowledge. Sure, a bit of dirty talk was fun, and seeing exactly how deep a blush Flynn could paint over his partner's freckled skin was one of his great joys in life, but it was a whole different matter to let himself drop all artifice and just feel.
And even as for Flynn this came out in formless gasps and moans, for Mathias it came out in words. Confessions of lust and love, requests and demands, things he would never say aloud outside these moments of passion: Flynn hoarded them all, glistening jewels hidden beneath his lover’s stoic façade, ripe for the taking by only the most patient and practised hands.
“That’s it, show me how much you love this,” Mathias murmured, kissing and biting a path down Flynn's neck and shoulder. “I’ll never - by the fucking Light! - I’ll never get enough of you.”
You'll never have to, Flynn wanted to say, but all he could do was lift his head to meet Mathias in a messy kiss, unable to form words, as Mathias gripped his hip almost hard enough to bruise.
Flynn could barely breathe, panting against Mathias's mouth as Mathias’s every movement sent waves of pleasure through him. He could feel the thrusts becoming less controlled as they both drew closer to release, and Flynn cried out as Mathias's hand let go of his wrists and closed around his cock.
“That's it, that's perfect,” came Mathias's low voice, and even the slight scratch of his moustache against Flynn's ear felt arousing at this point, every inch of his body aflame. “Come for me, Flynn, let me feel you.”
With a twist of Mathias's wrist and a deep thrust that hit every nerve, Flynn was overcome, surrounded by his lover as he reached his peak. He was only vaguely aware of his own wordless scream and Mathias's answering shout as he followed him over the edge.
Flynn had learned to love Mathias’s fastidious nature, but couldn’t help reaching out a hand to grab at the air next to the bed until Mathias came back into the room, cleaning him down with a damp washcloth and pushing at his shoulder. “Flynn,” he said insistently.
“Flynn Fairwind’s not here right now.”
“Funny,” Mathias replied, his smile making the corner of his moustache quirk slightly, “because for someone who’s not here, he’s doing a stellar job of lying across all of the blankets.”
Flynn somehow found the capacity to lift himself up and tuck himself into the bed. When Mathias lay down too, Flynn curled himself around his back with a contented sigh, reluctantly flicking on his personal alarm-o-bot before the comfort of one more night in a real bed lulled him to sleep.
~~~~
Flynn was up before the dawn, packing a few final things in his seabag and luxuriating in his last proper shower for the foreseeable future. Mathias slipped in alongside him, and they exchanged unhurried pleasure under the spray before dressing to head down to the docks.
They were quiet on the way, hands brushing as they walked together in the dim light. Flynn took a bracing breath of the sea air as they reached the harbour wall, but he could feel Mathias stiffening slightly beside him. He tangled their fingers together briefly.
“I know,” he murmured, “but I’ll start to drive you mad if I’m underfoot for too long. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that.”
“What about ‘out of sight, out of mind’?” Mathias countered with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Mate, have you seen our letters? Neither of us is out of mind for long. Or out of hand, for that matter,” he added with a wink, delighted to elicit a real laugh as they started down the stairs.
He waved at some of the familiar dock workers as he passed, the harbour already a hive of activity despite the hour. Flynn could sense Mathias’s impulse to put more distance between them as they walked through the crowd, and he resisted the urge to put an arm around him as they approached the Bold Arva’s berth.
“Morning, all!” Flynn called to those already aboard. “How are we doing this fine day?”
“Ask me when the sun’s up,” grumbled his first mate, Elia, from the helm, but they brightened up when Novi appeared from below deck with a pile of bacon sandwiches.
“Got one for you here, too, Spymaster,” she said, handing it to Mathias, who was leaning at the top of the gangplank, scanning the harbour for potential threats.
Flynn pulled him by the arm to sit on a rail. “C’mon, mate, relax and have some breakfast. Maybe by the time you’re done there’ll be enough daylight for you to see who you’re glaring at.”
Mathias shook his head but bit into his sandwich with relish, and let Flynn lean against him as they ate.
The rest of the Arva’s crew arrived in dribs and drabs, bidding their various family members farewell as they set about their duties, and Flynn sighed.
“Looks like it’s time for me to earn my keep,” he said, trying to keep his tone light as he stood up. “Give me a hand with this?” He gestured at his seabag, and Mathias immediately grabbed it and followed him below deck. The crew were snickering a bit at Flynn’s lack of subtlety, but he didn’t care at all as they strode down to his cabin.
As soon as the door was shut behind them, Mathias dropped the bag and grabbed Flynn around the shoulders, pulling him close.
Flynn went willingly, wrapping his arms around Mathias’s waist and looking him in the eye. He took a moment to bask in the warmth of Mathias’s gaze, no trace of his stern mask.
“Don’t miss me too much,” Flynn murmured. “I know it’s tempting to spend every day gazing out from the harbour wall, but try to get some work done.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Mathias replied, deadpan. “I was thinking of getting a locket with your picture inside so I can clutch it to my chest while I stare at the water.”
Flynn smiled and leaned down to rest their foreheads together. “You joke, but there’s a S.E.L.F.I.E. of us locked away in your second desk drawer, and I’d wager you spend a fair amount of time looking at it and sighing while I’m at sea.”
“Of course. Incredibly dramatic, mournful sighs. Luckily my agents assume I’m torturing someone back there rather than playing the pining maiden.”
They both laughed softly, and Mathias tilted his head to kiss Flynn firmly but chastely. “Stay safe out there,” he whispered.
“You know me,” Flynn said, tightening his grip so they couldn’t pull apart quite yet.
“That’s why I said it,” Mathias replied with a quirk of his lips. He gave Flynn one final kiss. “I love you. Keep the wind in your sails.”
Even though he was the superstitious one who had instructed Mathias that mainlanders’ good luck sayings were anything but, Flynn’s heart still fluttered every time Mathias sent him off with the proper Kul Tiran words. “I love you, too,” he managed to choke out. “Now stop distracting me, I have a ship to captain.”
Mathias chuckled and they shared a long, tender look before he slipped through the door and was gone.
Flynn physically shook himself and turned to grab the map lying ready on his desk. Before he left the cabin, he loitered in the doorway, trying to capture the echo of Mathias’s warmth for one indulgent moment. Buoyed, he headed up to the helm with a spring in his step, ready for his next adventure.
Chapter Two