045: Electrified: Goblin Jumper Cables

 It's a fairly uncommon sight to see a fully-geared blood elf paladin underneath his own Mechano-Hog. That is, unless you're traveling with the blood elf duo known as Kaldren and Borindor. 

The latter of the two, even though nearly completely decked out in judgement armor, was sprawled across the ground beneath the carriage of his ride, which was gently propped up off the ground. Sleeves pushed up, gloves thrown to the side, hood down and mask discarded, he cursed and grumbled as he used his rough hands to find his way through the engine, trying to find out 'why the damned thing isn't working!'

His companion, the priest Kaldren, merely sat a few feet away, smugly leaned against a sleeping black talbuk He would say nothing, even if he was far more experienced in mechanics than his best friend, he was never one to gloat nor tell other how they must do things. Sigurd, his beloved mount, snored lightly, a sign that the group had been there for quite a while. 

Where was there? Well, 'there' was in the woods of Grizzly Hills, on a small, barely traversed road the wound from Westfall Brigade Encampment to Dun Argol. Just because they were blood elves didn't mean they sided purely with The Horde. There was more to these two than met the eye. 

However, they'd been stranded for several hours, and wouldn't have been stranded if Borindor had just given up and ridden his own summoned mount to the next town, but paladins, especially blood elf paladins, were known to be stubborn. Once again, the man clanked around the engine, cursed, and threw what looked to be a wrench in the near vicinity of his best friend. The item landed with a muted thunk on the dirt next to him and skidded a little bit, but greatly missed the priest.

Kaldren, whom had been halfway occupied with watching a family of deer through the woods, had his attention re-directed when the noise caused the animals to flee. The redhead turned towards his blonde friend, head tilted to the side a bit. “I'm not going to ask you if you need-” 

But he was cut short when the other loudly grumbled, “Just get your smug ass over here and help me.”
The priest chuckled under his breath, rising stiffly to his feet. It didn't surprise him that Sigurd had not yet woken up, as the creature was a notoriously heavy sleeper. He strode over to the paladin, whom finally crawled out from under the contraption with a scowl. A scowl that would have been seen better if his face wasn't covered in oil smears. Kaldren, being a good best friend, pulled out a handkerchief from his person and handed it to the paladin, and though he didn't show his gratitude verbally, he did wipe off his own face. 

“So, oh great Mechaniker, what am I missing?” Borindor's voice was thick with sarcasm. 
“A spark of life.” The redhead smiled, gesturing to the vehicle, but his genius was only rewarded with raised eyebrows. “Just go ahead and hop on, I'll show you what she needs.”

The paladin did what he was bade to, straddling the machine with movements that were completely normal and natural to him, as he seemed to be made for the ride, whether it be on a motorcycle or his beloved steed Fredrich. Meanwhile, Kaldren sauntered over to his own mount, digging through its pouches until he came up with what he was looking for. Borindor, obviously amused by the item, rolled his eyes. “You're a priest, for crying out loud. Why do you, of all people, carry Goblin Jumper Cables?” 

Kaldren made his way back to his impatient companion, the item in question tucked beneath an arm. It looked like a small car-battery, with a set of cables leading from it. The priest sat it neatly on the ground next to the chopper before saying anything further. “They weren't invented for life-revival, Borindor. Best way to jump-start a machine is with electricity” The blonde shrugged and leaned forward to grasp the handlebars of the bike as his friend went about connecting the cables.

“Start her up for me, 'Dor.” And as the paladin did so, Kaldren flipped a group of switches, turning a useless clicking motorcycle into a purring beauty. Obviously relieved, Borindor revved up his baby a few times, enjoying the sound of it in his ears and the rumble between his legs.

The priest laughed again as he watched his friend's happiness return, removing his own gloves so that he could place a bare hand against the metal of the Hog, the vibrations hitting against his palm and prickling up his arm. Tentatively, he traced fingertips along the smooth surface of the machine and to Borindor's thigh, sliding his hand up the muscular surface of his companion's leg.

The blonde stopped revving the machine as he was startled by the movement. Less because of what his friend was doing, but more by the suddenness of it. “Kal, we're stopped in the middle of the road. If you're thinking what I'm thinking, someone's bound to come along.”

Holding the other's gaze, the priest smirked slightly, eyes shifting momentarily from their bright green to a dark crimson and back again, an action that only few would understand. “You know as well as I that even very few adventurers travel this road. Besides, we'll both know of anyone heading this direction in plenty of time to become decent once again.”

Borindor was defeated, trumped by the logic of his partner once again. He knew Kaldren was right, and he also knew how long they had been traveling, how long it had been since last time, and he had to admit that the temptation had been growing all the more as days passed. “Fine, but if anyone stumbles upon us, I personally get to skin you alive, got it?” He dug through one of his bike's saddlebags for a vial of fish oil, kept for such occasions. 

“Got it.” Kaldren took the vial from him, leaning forward to press a rough kiss against the paladin's lips. Borindor's own were rough, chapped from the road and years of battle. The priest's were smooth and soft, and could feel every little imperfection of the other's, including the jagged scar that ran across the left side. The paladin was also a great deal more muscular than his companion, and no matter how much that the redhead worked out, he could never be as built to the gills as Borindor, which was a great turn-on for the slightly smaller man.

When he pulled away, the elf took a few steps to slide onto the still-purring machine behind Borindor, whom frowned slightly. “Oh, you are indeed evil.” 

“Use watcha got, right?” His hands were on either side of the blonde's hips, pushing him forward to better pull up the hem of the other's robes. The priest massaged along Borindor's scarred lower back, fingers grazing the marred skin softly and causing his partner to take a deep breath.

Kaldren hooked an arm around Borindor, hands running along the other's chest and abdomen. The paladin grumbled through clenched teeth. “Oh, for the love of the Gods, Kaldren, just get on with it.”It was clear that between Kal's swift hands and the rumbling of the bike that the blonde would be easily aroused. 

None of their clothes were discarded or even completely removed in the whole event. The priest was able to push up Borindor enough so that he could slide the other's pants down enough for plausible access to his posterior, balancing the man on his own still-clothed thighs – a precarious position at best. The paladin tightened his grip on his machine's handlebars a little, in preparation for what was to come.

The redhead's surgically precise hands went as smoothly as he was able, and still keeping swift about it, pulled up his own robes and unbuckled his belt. He used the fish oil to slick himself down before moving against Borindor, the smooth liquid making penetration as easy as possible. Borindor lightly bit his own bottom lip, as even though he welcomed the sensation, it was awkward at first, like it always was. Soon enough, however, they were rocking together upon the vehicle, though Borindor was doing most of the work, sitting the way he was, and Kaldren could clearly see his muscles hard at work beneath his robes. 

Barely able to contain himself, the priest pulled Borindor closer, pressing their bodies together and rousing a loud moan from his partner. The paladin grasped at the handlebars, revving up the machine again and sending goosebumps across both of them. Kaldren pushed them both forward, the paladin nearly flat against his cycle, the rumble of the engine echoing up through his chest and he moaned again, this time a little louder, and Kaldren followed suit, picking up the speed at which he rocked his hips. 

In no time at all, Borindor's face was coated with a layer of sweat that speared the grime he was already covered in. Kaldren nosed his way around the hood of Borindor's robes to press a kiss against the back of his lover's neck, and that one little move sent the blond-haired paladin over the edge. His companion followed soon after, the both of them lying supine atop the Mechano-Hog. Borindor drew another deep breath as Kaldren withdrew from him. “You and your stupid goblin jumper cables.”

“It's electricity, baby, and you know it.” He began to sit back and right his clothes and make an attempt at assisting his partner when, not too far in the distance, they could hear the very distinct noise of a slow-moving mounted patrol, and with all the noise that they had been making...