To the Victor: Valk's Past

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A human once again loses to his half-orc best friend.
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I barely caught myself before I stepped outside the crudely drawn circle in the dirt. I held my chest tightly as I looked at Tarl as he stood in the middle of our makeshift ring, his hand on his hip, looking at me with that usual, cocky smirk.

A smirk I was determined to wipe from his face.

The half-orc was around the same height as I was, but he was slimmer than me, and yet his heritage gave him a physical advantage. He was all lean muscle vs my much sturdier build, I probably outweighed him by a good 100lbs. His normally wild hair tied tightly in a braid like most of the orcs wore.

"I thought this was just a friendly practice match?" I said while collecting myself and spitting off to the side.

"It is, but we both know what's is at stake." Tarl said as he walked towards me, his tusk catching the light, the silver bands around them shimmering.

He was right and I wanted this win, not for the reward but just to shut him up for once.

"Come on, Valk! You're just delaying the inevitable!"

I launched at him, throwing punches, while trying to read his movements, and setup my chance to finally beat this smug asshole. Tarl had always been faster than me but I just needed one good punch, but he was going to make me work for my shot.

Even in this situation, I had to admit, I was always impressed with how Tarl moved. Half-orcs aren't usually known for being light on their feet, but Tarl was fast and moved like someone less than half his size.

Finally, I saw an opening and threw a powerful right. Time felt like it slowed down as he dodged it with ease, the smirk appearing again as he flowed behind me.

He smiled then kissed me on my cheek.

The next thing I knew, I felt a large impact on my back, right before felt the hard ground, the circle that designated the boundaries of our ring, a good three feet behind me and Tarl standing with his leg still up after his kick.

"I believe that is a ringout and another win for me." Tarl said holding back a laugh.

"Valk, you're way too easy to read, I didn't even break a sweat." He said arrogantly.

I stood up and brushed myself off as I walked over to my bag and grabbed my canteen. I opened it and took a long drink and leaned against the cold stone wall of the alley.

"Look, all I needed was to land that last punch." I said, trying to convince myself as much as I wanted to convince him.

Tarl leaned against the wall with me, handing me a towel from his bag.

"I'll admit, if you were able to actually hit me then, yes, you probably would have won, but for nine years, you've said that, and you haven't beat me yet."

Tarl was right. We've been friends for almost 10 years and I had never once beat him in a fight. He was the only person I couldn't beat.

Together, we were unstoppable but every time we had a fight like this, I was on the losing side.

To be fair though, It was never a fair comparison as Tarl was raised a fighter, it was in his blood.

His parents had run a good bit of Rathis before Madis came and took over. Tarl's parents were kind of a big deal before they died. The human and orc gang leaders that fell in love and united two of the city's most powerful gangs.

My family had been merchants, not rich but decently well off. When I was 9, my father had invested all his money into a shipment of rare goods that he hoped to sell and really come out on top. His plan would have probably worked if the shipment ever made it here to Rathis. When it didn't, my father took out loans with some less than reputable people and when he didn't pay them back, well, I remember the captain of the guard coming to my house and taking me to the orphanage.

I ran away from there after only a few weeks. I didn't leave the city as there was no way I could make it over the mountains to the west and the badlands to the east were a death sentence to all but the best adventurers. If the storms didn't get you, the raiders or beast would.

After a few months on the street, right before my tenth birthday, I met Tarl, after we both were trying to steal from some guy flashing his money in the market. We started running together and unlike me who had lost everything, he actually had a real place to stay.

Madis might have killed Tarl's parents but he respected them, at least that's what he told Tarl after he killed them. Madis decreed that Tarl's parents house was off-limits to looters and that anybody that messed with Tarl would answer to him. It was effective, as Tarl had lived in his parent's house ever since with no problems.

I stayed with him over the years. We did small jobs for people, collecting debts, delivering stuff, and other small jobs for the local gangs.

As we got older, Tarl introduced me to a few old fighters and they trained me throughout my teens. I was always able to hold my own against most of the other kids on the streets but as I got older, raw talent wasn't enough. I learned quickly and after I turned 16, I started entering the fight pits.

I did decent enough that by 18, I was able to buy a small place out near the walls of the city.

I don't think Tarl ever got over me choosing to move out, but he accepted that I wanted to do something on my own as we did everything together over the past nine years.

On his 18th birthday, Tarl told me he loved me. I didn't know how to handle it and I tried to dismiss it. I fought myself because I loved him too, but I didn't know how to accept that and so I ran out his house.

It's not like we wouldn't have been accepted in the city, relationships like that were fine, and anybody who would try anything would just be another person we left beaten in the street.

A few days later, I went back and apologized. I told him that I loved him and kissed him to prove meant it. Our relationship was fine for a few weeks, I had joked about who would be on the top or the bottom but then he issued a challenge, we would have a fight and the one who won would be on top.

I don't know why I thought I would have a chance of winning, in our entire time of knowing each other, I had never beaten him. Tarl beat me faster than he ever had before that night, and for the past year, we do this every week, with me knowing what's coming.

....................................................................................

"You know what a loss means, right?" Tarl's voice snapped me out of my memory.

"Yeah, I know...I'm just not happy about it." I said as I took another sip from my canteen and stood up.

Tarl turned my head towards him softly and kissed my cheek.

"You know that's not true. You enjoy our time together." He whispered in my ear ass he grabbed my ass and squeezed firmly.

I turned away and looked at the sky.

Tarl let go, reached down, and grabbed his bag. The black leather shirt he put on made the green of his skin stand out even more.

"Could you wear a tighter shirt?" I laughed as Tarl slightly struggled to pull his shirt down fully.

"No, probably not." He said as he flexed.

I shook my head.

"I'll see you tonight, I'll make sure you have some hot water to relax those sore muscles in the bath." Tarl said over his shoulder.

I watched as he jumped up and grabbed the ledge above me and climbed over the fence to that led to our alley.

I looked at our circle in the dirt, thinking of how good it would be to finally beat him, before I hopped up and climbed the fence myself, and headed home.

I walked home through the streets of Rathis. I knew the back streets and shortcuts perfectly.

Some people found that back streets dangerous, but I had a reputation, and nobody would bother me.

It took about thirty minutes till, I got to my house on the edge of city. It was built against the city wall so even with the sun high in the sky, it was cloaked in shadows. I held my hand against the door as the lock glyph swirled around it before the white flash unsealed the door.

As I walked in and tossed my bag on a chair before casting a small fire spell to light a few candles. I never was good with magic, even though both my parents were very competent. I often though how maybe I could have gone to one of the magic academies back west if things had gone differently but here, I was, a nineteen-year-old who was nothing more than a thug for hire and pit fighter. I laid down on my couch hoping to get a little rest before tonight.

I rolled and felt the sore spot from where I took that kick earlier in the day. Every week, we fought and every week, I lost, and it wasn't like I was getting closer to winning. I thought about what I would need to do to get better and maybe, staying in the city was, just not an option.

The only reason I didn't leave before was that I never would have survived it but now I was older and strong enough, maybe I wouldn't make it through the badlands, but I could go west over the mountains. I finally found a comfortable spot on the beaten and broken couch as fell asleep to the thought of leaving Rathis.

I woke up a few hours later. I wasn't sure of the time, but I knew I was probably going to be late as blew out the candles and sealed my door.

It was a good forty-minute walk to the side of town where Tarl lived. It wasn't the richest part of Rathis, but it was better than the area that I grew up in and that was one of the nicer parts of town.

The walk made me realize how sore the fight had made me and I was looking forward to the hot bath I had been promised.

I always got stares as I walked through this part of town, the people here knew who I was and who I worked with but for those same reasons they never did anything.

I eventually got to the gate of Varl's house. It was a decent sized house but the lack of real upkeep of the outer garden left it looking fairly rough and abandoned. Varl had said that gardening was one of his dad's hobbies and with him gone there was no one to take care of the small yard.

It was kind of a shame and I know several times over the years, I asked if he wanted to clean it up and he would turn me down every time.

I walked to the door holding my hand up as another lock glyph unsealed the door. Varl kept the interior looking decent, but decent for a 19yr old guy, although I couldn't say my place was any better.

Unlike my house, Varl's was well lit by full size lanterns and a beautiful chandelier lit the foyer, It always made me realize how much power his family had before their death.

"Tarl?" I called as walked through the front room.

I didn't get a response, so I walked toward the kitchen. Tarl had let the dishes pile up again and I noticed empty bottles of wine from last week. I knew that cleaning this up tonight would be out of the question, but I would take care of it tomorrow.

I stepped past the kitchen to see Tarl asleep in the living room. I slowly made my way over to him. He might not have broken a sweat earlier, but he must have still exhausted himself.

I touched his shoulder lightly to try and wake him and got nothing. I decided to give him a harder push.

"Tarl, wake up." I said quite loudly as I shook his shoulder.

Tarl immediately woke up, letting out a roar sounding more like a full orc than one of his mixed heritage.

Before I could do anything, I was tackled to the ground.

"Who sent you!!" Tarl yelled sitting on top of me in a mounted position, one hand around my throat, the other pulled one of his knives from it's sheath on his back.

"So I guess we're skipping the whole bath thing?" I mockingly questioned.

"I need to remember to not wake you." I jokingly said as Tarl snapped back out of his sleep induced haze.

Tarl let go of my throat but stayed mounted on top, bending down to kiss me.

We held our kiss for a while before Tarl broke it, a small trail of spit running down his tusk.

"You think you're funny, don't you?" Tarl said looking down at me.

"Not really but I have my moments." I responded, a little arrogance thrown in for charm.

Tarl climbed off of me and to his feet before extending a hand down to help me to my feet.

Tarl pulled me up and held me close, placing his head into my neck and smelling me.

"I did promise you a bath, didn't I?" he said, letting go of me and turning around.

I followed him around the house and down a staircase into the lower level of the house.

Tarl's mother might have been an orc, but she enjoyed her luxury. The entire lower level of the house was essentially a spa, complete with a system that mimicked a small waterfall. It was dimly lit by just a few torches on the wall but that just made it feel more comfortable. I was happy just having a system in my place that allowed me to even take a shower, but this was just so much more.

Tarl placed his hand on a sigil on the wall. A bright glow emanated from the water as it instantly warmed to the temperature of a natural hot spring, steam rising from the water and creating a nice haze to the air. I remember telling Tarl that I had never even been outside the city so I had no real point of reference and he just laughed.

"I'll be back down in a minute; you can get comfortable." Tarl said turning back toward the stairs.

I remember the first time I came here and saw this, I blown away by the amazing room and got an understanding of the wealth Tarl came from. Tarl always said that his parents wanted him to have the best life since both had come from very rough past.

I began to undress and toss my clothes to the side and untying my hair. Even though every week during our fights, I wanted beat Tarl, I really didn't mind losing as I knew I would get to take a bath here at the end of the day.

I stepped down the stone stairs into the waist deep water and walking to the stone benches under the water at the far side.

I sat on the warm stone, letting the water soak in, and relax the sore areas from my match earlier.

It was about 10 minutes or so before Tarl returned with leather bag in his hands.

I watched as Tarl stripped at the edge of the water. It was always I sight I enjoyed. His definition was amazing, years of fighting and running through the streets of Rathis saw to that. It was always amazing to watch him fight as he could pick fights with humans twice his size, the biggest of warriors, and was physically stronger, the advantages of being half-orc I always thought. I was bigger than him in almost every way and yet, he was stronger and faster. I looked at his scars, we both had a few and were proud of them because it was a sign we had pulled through. Tarl had said that orcs thought of scars as beautiful, and I agreed with them.

I knew where almost every single one of them had come from, as I has been there when he got them and I had ones of my own from those encounters.

Tarl walked through the large bath and sat next to me, reaching up and making sure his braid was tight.

"So what's in the bag?" I asked as he set It behind us.

"Some soaps and lotions. A gift from Envia for a job well done."

Envia ran a brothel in one of the rougher parts of town. A few days ago, we dealt with some guys hassling the girls after when they were heading home for the night. The guys were from one of the caravan's that had stopped in town. It was a good fight, and we knew they wouldn't do anything the next time they came through at the risk of another beating

"So are you going to wash me?" I said, while leaning back on the warm stone.

Tarl enjoyed our bath probably as much he enjoyed what was coming later. I think he liked that once we were in the house, he could be a lot more possessive and I was okay with that.

We moved over a few feet in the bath to a more raised area. I sat down while Tarl sat behind me. I turned and looked up at him as gave me a warm smile.

"I like your hands a lot more when they aren't being thrown my way." I said as I felt Tarl's hands grasp my shoulders and knead the pressure points, loosening the tightness in them and massaging the pain away, thinking about the heavy blows he landed on me earlier during our fight.

"Well if I caused you any injury, I have to take responsibility and do what I can to make you feel better."

His hands moved under my arms and stroked my chest, before squeezing hard, causing me to let out a brief moan.

Tarl leaned forward and placed his head over my shoulder, before pulling us together. Even after all these years, the strength he possessed always amazed me. I thought back to how Tarl used to challenge caravan guards to arm wrestling for gold as they thought it would be an easy win but rarely did they ever stand a chance.

Tarl released me and I felt him shift, before hearing the sound of a bottle uncorking.

I felt a Tarl's hands move over me, spreading the deep amber gel over my body. It had a very earthy scent but was still somewhat sweet. After spreading the gel over my upper body, Tarl reached in the bag again to pull out some sponge and began washing me with great care.

He took extra time rubbing my stomach, he often joked that I was built and acted more like an orc than he was, especially when we ate, and my somewhat of a gut leant to that image.

Tarl didn't say anything as he washed me, intent on making sure he got everywhere, making sure to spend extra time on the areas he targeted during our match. I felt like he was cleaning me like warriors maintaining their armor and weapons.

Like any fault could lead to a problem so being meticulous was not just an option but necessary.

He cupped his hands in the water and rinsed off the excess soap before motioning me to stand up and move to the area where he could wash my lower half.

As I stood, he poured more of the gel into his hands as he began from my ankles and went up. I still felt exposed after all these years. I had been with a few girls from around the city but it was always just a quick fuck and we both went our separate ways but with Tarl, he was the only one that knew me and that just added to how I felt.

Tarl made sure to not just wash but loosen my muscles as he worked my calves before moving to my thighs.

Tarl took care in using both hands on my thighs, making sure to feel for any knots or tense areas.

He moved his hands along my hips before rubbing my behind and sharply smacking my ass on the right side.

"Really?!" I looked over my shoulder and down at that smug grin of his, the light shining just slightly off his tusk ring.

"You know, for all the lifting and training you do, somehow your ass is still soft. Firm and well built, but soft." He said as I felt him lift my ass slightly and letting it jiggle a bit.

"I'll add that to the list of things I need to work on" I said turning my head away from him.

"Valk, don't get me wrong, I love it." He said as I felt him place his head on my ass and kiss it.

It was a quick moment of silence before I felt the cold gel on tarl's hand left hand wrap around my dick and his right cup my balls.

"Let's not forget this" He said stroking me with the soap.

He was amazing with his hands and had learned all my weak spots, knowing which areas would bring the moans and twitches he loved to see.

I was about 7 inches long and thick enough that he couldn't close his hand fully around me, but I couldn't see myself under the foam of the soap which moved along with Tarl's hands.

I cursed that there was a wall closer to lean against as my breaths grew heavier. I felt his fingers squeeze the tip but not to firm.

He continued this for several minutes, each time stopping as he felt even the slightest pulse that might be signaling my orgasm.

I wanted to ask for him to finally let me cum, but I knew he wouldn't. No, this was part of the tease before we went upstairs. I would have to wait.

Tarl once again cupped his hands and rinsed the soapy foam off of me.

I felt Tarl spread my ass before running his tongue along my crack, once again cursing not having a wall to support myself as the pleasure was hard to fight.

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