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Faladar	By : TheTVJunkie Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The Views: 6737 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Hobbit' or anything related to it. No copyright infringement intended. There's no money made of this story; all my works are written for entertainment purpose only!

Chapter List
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Thranduil loves two things - wine and his son. Both taste good and warm his body. What happens when the two are combined? ( ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡° )

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Thranduil knew not whether he was awake or not – but all he could feel was the silk of his own sheets against his bare skin. He'd torn his clothes off during the night, and it was an odd heat that pulled him from sleep this morning. As always, he clung to what dreams he'd held in the night. These particular dreams were of his son, the very same that lay beside him now. He could still feel Legolas' warmth, and was grateful for it. Sleeping alone or with a bedwarmer really couldn't compare to his own son.
His dreams licked at the corners of his mind, pushing wet tongues and sweet words around his head. He could feel an irritating tingle by his ears, and a certain emptiness in the pit of his stomach that imitated hunger. With his half-remembered dreams, a few ideas on what he wanted for breakfast danced through his mind. Then again, he had little need to ask for anything – there was usually a small feast prepared for him whenever he wished to eat.
Thranduil swatted lazily at his chest, where the lustrous sheets bothered his nipples. Oversensitive and with sinking mood, he groaned.
'Oh, what is this…? Have I been cursed in my sleep for failing to look after my son? Mrgnh. I want to go back to sleep…'
As the King, he could of course do whatever he liked… but there were meetings that called him today, the usual council fare of 'what's up in Mirkwood' and 'Who needs to die for what'. Thranduil just did not care today. Wine and comfort was all he wanted… and the latter included his son's presence.
He threw an arm over Legolas, eyes still closed. The act lessened the gnawing annoyances all over his body, but did little to sate his inner empty heat. For now, it was good enough…
For the first time in a long time Legolas slept like a baby. All tension and guilty feelings seemed to have fallen away from him, erased from his troubled mind the second his father's magic had taken care of his mutilated hair. Waking at night, the young blonde lay pondering for a good while, still nestled in his Ada's embrace. Much to the prince's relief, he didn't sport a straining hard-on resulting from such close proximity, even now that the elder elf had apparently struggled free from his robes in his sleep. Instead, Legolas relished the unconcernedly skin-on-skin contact in all its innocent nature and was beyond grateful for the sensation of protectiveness and warmth that came with it.
'Maybe it has been my fault in the first place that my mind got corrupted?!' He wondered, still trying to drill down on the insidious change of emotions towards Thranduil as of recently. 'Hmm...perhaps if I hadn't rebuffed his attention so vehemently, my mind hadn't twisted it into something so...illicit?'
Dozily, he turned his head towards his sleeping adar, happy to find no trace of sexual attraction towards him whatsoever. "This is all my fault, Ada. I'm so sorry." He murmured before sleepiness was descending on him once again.
Unfortunately, the poor prince hadn't the faintest idea that his problem was far from solved, his urges simply temporarily suppressed since by the magical transfer of the Elvenking's strength he had also transmitted another of his many enviable abilities: Remarkable self-control.
Thranduil was properly woken by a knock on the door, the first sign that he was needed elsewhere. He practically had to shove himself out of bed to get going, leaving his precious son alone. Fancy robes and one fine crown later, he left for what would become a breakfast meeting. However, he found that the longer he was paying attention, the less patience he had for the matters discussed. That heat inside him was boiling his blood, he felt. Sensations caused by no external source tickled all over his body until finally he zoned out and began to dream. Unfortunately, his dreams consisted of Legolas in all sorts of compromising positions along with a beautiful voice asking for sinful things. Thranduil crossed one leg over the other and made various attempts to distract himself... for the entire day.
By the time the afternoon came around, Thranduil was free to look after his most pressing needs.
'What is wrong with me today?' he thought as he took himself in hand, alone in his study. 'All I have been able to think about... Legolas, and his gentle touch... amongst other things.' Lying to himself was all he could do, before he had to admit what he felt for his son. It had been this way for centuries, something he'd hidden for propriety's sake. Now it seemed it was all coming back to bite him. Thranduil found no pleasure in himself this night, much to his horror. It was such a terrible, pressing need that he actually considered going to Legolas. His own flesh and blood, that which had consumed his entire life.
'Something is definitely not right.' But he had no clue what.
After making himself decent by way of covering up all that he could, Thranduil stood and called for a servant. Faithful Galion came to him and spotted Thranduil dramatically sprawled on the couch just by the desk.
"What can I do for you, your Majesty?"
"Fetch me Legolas... and speak of no urgency. I command it." Thranduil tilted his head back and allowed his hair to spill down the side of the couch, watching his butler's face. Galion only bowed and left to do as ordered. As he walked down the hall he wondered just what Thranduil wanted with his son. The King hadn't been very attentive today and seemed oddly aggressive when spoken to. He'd not been able to calm down even when plied with wine, and a few crystal goblets had met the floor in a brilliant explosion once dropped.
Galion knocked on Legolas' door, hoping he was in there. It was late and he didn't feel much like searching the entire palace for the sneaky prince, even if it was Thranduil's will that lead him to do so. "Your Highness, are you in there? Your father wishes to speak with you..."
Galion's urgent knocking woke Legolas from the nap he was taking on his bed. His day had been rather uneventful, filled with reading, a very relaxing bath including extensive grooming and lots and lots of gluttony. Since the prince's belly was no longer in knots from shame, Legolas took great joy in appeasing his hunger with all sorts of sweet pastries and other confectionery until he feared his stomach would burst from the fullness if he ate just one more piece. Lazily, he had skimmed through a few pages of his favourite tome before making himself comfortable on the sheets. Since sleep no longer evaded the pretty elf, it was only a matter of seconds before fatigue crept over his limps and he had dozed off.
After a luxurious stretch, Legolas rubbed his eyes as he crossed the room to answer the heavy oaken door.
"Yes Galion, what is it?" He asked, not having heard the butler's words before.
"My prince, your father wishes to speak to you. He's waiting for you in his study." Galion explained, gesturing for Legolas to attend to the matter without delay, though not wording any urgency.
Still a little drowsy, Legolas scrubbed his tummy absentmindedly. There was no need for him to keeping up appearances in front of Galion, the royal family's long-time trusted servant and confidant.
"Do you know the reason for my summoning?" The prince ask he let the door of his room click shut behind him, heading towards his father's quarters with languid steps.
"No." Galion replied matter-of-factly, walking the prince to Thranduil's study. "His majesty did not care to elaborate further, I'm afraid."
"Hm. Alright then, thank you. Goodnight, Galion." Legolas bid the faithful butler goodbye, then tapped his knuckles against his father's opulent door.
Legolas poked his head in, entering. The study was painted in a warm orange colour, a small fire burning in the hearth nearby the couch Thranduil had draped himself on. Ancient books lined the walls, heavy tomes that held many an Elven mystery, crammed into ornate bookshelves. Legolas was very fond of this room, nostalgic memories flooding his mind when he recalled how much time he used to spend here when he was just a small elfling. Always at his Ada's side, or rather his feet at that time, playing with some wooden toys or hiding between the drapes of his father's extensive robes while the king had attended to affairs of state. Not once had he been sent away in favour or regal obligations. Not once.
It took the prince a moment for his eyes to grow accustomed to the dimness in the room but when the crackling flames, low and sputtering, cast flickering shadows over the ethereal appearance that was his awe-inspiring adar, he couldn't help but smile admiringly, yet thankfully with no unsettling stirring in his loins as he did so.
"You sent for me?" Legolas said cheerfully, casually striding over to Thranduil.
Thranduil's gaze undressed Legolas with every step forth the prince took. "Mm, yes. Come over here." He patted the free space he'd made just for Legolas to sit in, propping himself up on one elbow. Inside he could feel a steady pulse reaching for Legolas, the tension in his body eager to release. Just a little closer and.... with a bit more time... Then he would be able to finally touch his son.
'I have to be careful not to scare him away... aye, but my patience wears thin.' Thranduil's mind was filled with thoughts of all that he could do to Legolas, just to ease his own stress. The couch was nice and soft, easy enough to pin him to... and the nearby desk had a hard edge that could prove more painful than stimulating. Thranduil considered how Legolas would react if he grabbed him and bent him over the desk, pressing up against his own clothed form. 'Would he fight me?'
He continued to stare, hair slowly trickling over his shoulders. All he wore was a tight silver robe with grey leggings that left little to the imagination. One leg was crossed over the other, a thigh hiding his potential indecency. He couldn't help the excitement that rushed through him at the sight of his son... The only thing, he felt, that could save him from his torment.
Unsuspectingly, the young prince sat down next to his father, slumping onto the couch unceremoniously. Light-heartedly, he played with a strand of his blond locks. "Thanks again for re-growing my hair, Ada. I don't know what kind of fantastic magic you've been using but let me tell you that I haven't felt that great in weeks. That incantation came with some nice side-effects for which I'm eternally grateful for, you know."
He smiled up at the king once more, glad that Thranduil made no move to inquire further. Instead, his father gave Legolas a somewhat...peculiar look that started to slightly fluster the younger elf. "Now tell me," Legolas tried again, unaware that he was bringing up quite the painful subject. Painful in more than one way, that is. "How's been your day?"
Thranduil blinked a few times then spoke slowly, rising a little more so he could sit up with his face close to his son's.
"It has... Not been the best." If there was one thing Thranduil could do at all hours of the day, it was complain. He nuzzled into Legolas' neck, discreetly taking a breath of the prince's fresh, sweet scent there. The effect it had in dispelling his agitation left him momentarily wordless. Then he explained. "Long and arduous meetings have left me wanting for a little comfort... and I have worried about you, as I always do." He did not want to just blatantly whine, not now when he needed his son close. "The council would not just shut up and not even wine could save me from such torment. All I could think of was whether you were alright or not... But now I see, it seems I have done well enough." To emphasise his words he gently ran a hand through Legolas' hair, breathing out his satisfaction in a quiet huff. His lips warmed a spot on Legolas' neck, just below his jaw where a strip of muscle began. His other hand trailed between thick and lustrous golden strands, sneakily tracing a finger down the back of Legolas' ear. Thranduil hoped his son had the same erogenous zones as him. He knew for sure that a touch to his own ears was all he needed to get going.
A shiver rippled through Legolas' body when Thranduil's soft fingers came in contact with the prince's sensitive ears, his baser instinct telling him to lean into the touch and simply enjoy the highly stimulating effect it had on him. Holding his breath, the young elf's eyes fluttered shut for a second, but when a guttural moan threatened to escape his lips, Legolas snapped back to reality, terrified at his own instant reaction to such seemingly harmless contact.
'Holy crap, what was that?'
Jumping to his feet in a hasty retreat, the prince hissed in pain when Thranduil's fancy rings got unintentionally caught up in his son's blonde strands, tugging sharply in their wake. Legolas' scalp tingled at the sensation and much to his horror, some depraved part of him seemed to thrive on the pain. Or was it rather the person that had inflicted it? Or both?
'Oh no no no, I don't need any more stimulation as it is!'
Nervously, Legolas reached for the wine bottle that sat on the table next to the couch. "I'm sorry to hear you had a bad day, Ada." The prince poured a glass of wine with shaky hands, careful not to look his father in the eye. "How about some liquid comfort?"
"I believe it is you who needs it." Thranduil flexed his fingers, already missing his touch against Legolas. "You are shaking." Nevertheless he allowed Legolas to pour a glass, but did not accept it for himself. "Drink, and calm yourself."
'Ah… he is too far from me now… if only I could reach out and grab him… pull him here… he would fall, spill the wine, and come into my arms.' A very soft sigh with a little moan underneath fell from Thranduil's parted lips. Now that Legolas was near, the longing in Thranduil's body only grew as if it knew of the chance at tasting its desires. Closing his eyes, Thranduil stilled his near quivering fingers. Then he spoke again.

"Tell me of your day… what has you so highly strung?”
A little unsure, Legolas considered Thranduil's words. Unlike his father, the prince was no habitual drunkard and he knew that the king preferred only the most full-bodied, headiest sorts of Dorwinion wine to have at his personal disposal. Hence, the alcohol would most likely go instantly to the young elf's head...
'Oh bollocks to that! Maybe this is just what I need right now???'
Determined, he downed his liquid courage in one large gulp. Grimacing at its potent aftertaste, Legolas sat down on the edge of the couch again, a little further away from his Ada this time, though.
"Meh, I don't know," The prince said, referring to the earlier question. "All I basically did today was lounging and stuffing myself with food." He guiltily patted the little swell of his belly. "Nothing much, really."
Legolas would rather have the ground to open up and swallow him before he would confess his...funny emotions towards Thranduil.
'Maybe I'm only imagining things?' The prince wondered briefly, feeling the wine starting to gradually relax and unwind him.
The King shifted from where he sat and went closer to Legolas, uncaring for distance or personal space.
"I wish I could have taken your place." said Thranduil, carefully sneaking his hands around Legolas' waist. "Perhaps I shall do that tomorrow… less work and a little more indulgence, hm?" He shifted to rest his head on the prince's shoulder and peered at him from beneath his eyebrows. Ah, there was that handsome face, delicious scent and soft hair he loved so much. The wine had a bit of work to do before he dared to go further, but at least he'd gotten a bit of a feel. His fingers traced the seams of Legolas' clothes, seeking openings where he might find warm skin. His own hands weren't too cold as the room was of a decent temperature, the kind that invited lazy relaxation before hard work.
As he explored his hands dared to go lower. If Legolas didn't shoo him away, he was going to grope a bit… and hope to tease him too.
"Aye, you definitely should." Legolas mumbled wearily, the potency of the wine already dulling his reflexes and silencing the tense little voice in the back of his mind that had literally screamed at him to remain cautious only minutes ago. Tiredness started to creep over him, the pleasant warmth of his father's study and the continuous, soothing sound of the crackling fire lulling him into a state of utter contentment and false security. Legolas was only vaguely aware of the hand that had sneakily snaked around his waist, pulling him closer.
'Mmmm...this is nice.' He thought dreamily as he inhaled the flowery scent of his father's soft hair, now that Thranduil's head rested on the prince's shoulder. Legolas even leaned his own head against his father's with a contented sigh, both their silky tresses mingling, the flames casting a warm glow on the two elves as they sat in intimate togetherness.
It took him quite some time to become fully aware of the fact that Thranduil's hand had meanwhile roamed from Legolas' waist to his outer thigh and now back up...to his inner thigh. The prince furrowed a brow but did not budge.
'Ooh... it's working...' Thranduil praised himself inwardly for his supreme relaxation skills and couldn't hold out for much longer. He dipped his head into Legolas' neck, turning from the prince's shoulder to kiss him. He whispered sweet nothings into Legolas' ear, his voice demure in spite of internal strain. One leg joined the hand upon Legolas' thigh as Thranduil tilted his hips, adjusted himself and half straddled his son. Trapped in tight, thin fabric, his arousal came into contact with Legolas. The way he had his legs parted allowed for a bit of sneaky rubbing, enough to set his balls aflame. He had no intention of exploding however and pushed his son's upper body back, a little forceful in shoving him into the couch.
In a single swift movement he seated himself in Legolas' lap, knees on either side of his son's body. There he could press himself up against Legolas and look into his face.
"Legolas...." he murmured, unable to keep the smile away from his lips "I've thought of you all day..."
Legolas gasped in surprise when he found himself on his back all of a sudden, held down by Thranduil's weight atop him. It was a bit of a Déjà vu to the night his father had re-grown the prince's hair yet the one, major difference was that there had been no thinly veiled hard-on poking his soft underbelly, neither could Legolas recall the king rubbing shamelessly against him.
Initially led by instinct, the young elf found it actually did feel good, re-awakening the heat in his lower abdomen at alarming speed. But then again his guilty conscience successfully cut its way through his alcohol-fogged mind, moral sense and panic starting to get the better of him. Wriggling in a fruitless attempt to free himself somewhat half-heartedly, Legolas slightly slurred.
"Ada...? What is the meaning of this?!" Desperation and fear clearly resonated in his voice. "Please get off me, will you?"
The tone in Legolas' voice would've made any elf with sense retreat and apologise. But Thranduil was far beyond sense when it came to this kind of tension in his body, that which he felt was tearing him apart the longer he left it alone. He cared not to rationalise anything or even stop to think what he was doing.
"No...." He growled against his son's lips and pressed them together with his own. "Mmmn..."
'Just let me do what I must.'
He suspected the only way he could find peace was to take pleasure in his son's body, and the more he thought on it the more sense it made. Here he had his beautiful, soft prince so pliable and sweet beneath him. It was unlikely Legolas would remember this in too much detail... so Thranduil wanted to enjoy himself before his chance was gone.
He began to grind against Legolas' stomach, his hips naturally rolling in all the most sensual ways. Up and down, in and out, around in nice tight circles. If not for his breeches trapping his cock, Thranduil would have painted his son's skin with his own lust. Dripping and hard, he allowed the day's tension to seek slow release. Every nerve was relaxing the further he touched, kissed and rubbed. All he felt however was need.
'Ohhhh, this is not right…' Legolas' guilty conscience tried again before it eventually crumbled and went out of the window for good under the onslaught of Thranduil's sensual doings.
The prince gave a soft sigh, his formerly tight-pressed lips now willingly opening for further intrusion. His arms wrapped around his father's torso seemingly of their own accord, the young elf clinging to Thranduil in helpless surrender. Before long, Legolas found his hips mimicking his father's heated moves, so eager for friction but nothing seemed sufficient to ease the reawakened fire in his groin. His eyes fluttering shut at the intensity of it all, desperate mewls and frantic groans fell from the prince's lips. All that pent up sexual tension he had been harbouring for his beloved Ada for so long appeared to have bubbled to the surface now that it was no longer anchored by guilt and shame, threatening to burst any minute.
Thranduil smirked against his son's lips before delving his tongue into Legolas' mouth. Unrestrained passion heated and fierce came forth in every movement he made.
Curiously, Legolas let the slippery muscle explore the inside of his mouth. It felt odd yet added positively to his ever-growing excitement. All this was new to him and far beyond everything he had ever dared to dream, based on the limited knowledge, let alone experience he had managed to gather at his relatively young age. Physically, he was an adult alright by Elven standards but by means of understanding and attending to his body's desires he was adolescent at best. Pure and untouched. Save for a few stray incestuous longings, of course.
"Do you see how I want you, ion nîn?" Thranduil gasped against Legolas' lips as he leaned back to draw breath. "Aah..."
The moment he heard his Ada's breathy words, Legolas' heart skipped a beat and he gave a tiny whimper. His deep-seated fear of being rejected for his illicit cravings by the one person he loved most in all Arda vanished into thin air. All he could do was nod, endless relief evident all over his beautiful features. "Gi melin, Ada." He whispered, hardly audible.
At Legolas' words of admiration Thranduil felt a swell of joy lift his heart. He could only moan something incoherently in reply, long past the capacity for words. 'I do not know... why this need has taken me so suddenly... come morning he will think me mad for what I will do... if he remembers.' Thranduil reached back, grabbed the bottle of wine and showed it to his son.
"Come, drink more. I will not have any inhibitions hindering us this night." It was a quick attempt at something seductive, though all Thranduil wanted was for more wine to go into his son. What if this need came again, and Legolas was unwilling? Suspicious even, to drink and relax?
'I cannot have that. He must be completely inebriated before we begin...' Without even knowing, he'd begun to rut against Legolas in his desperation. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, making it difficult for him to spin honeyed words into his son's ear. All he could do was hope Legolas could get drunk enough... before they both went mad.
When the prince felt the intoxicating effect of the Dorwinion slowly subsiding, he gratefully accepted the wine bottle his father offered. "Alright, Ada." He replied obediently, beaming at Thranduil but still slurring. "More wine, if that's your wish."
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Legolas downed almost three quarters of the bottle's content in a few gulps, the heady alcohol making quick work of any remaining or newly budding worries, clouding the prince's head once again in blissful carefreeness, relaxation and lust.
Thranduil slowed his motions to a swaying of hips in Legolas' lap as the prince drank, watching those glistening lips close around the bottle. Oh, how he himself had drunk in similar fashion not so long ago. The time for sobriety would not soon come upon him while he still had sense. Now, Legolas could taste in the heightened pleasures a good drink provided. That, and the impending plunder of his entire body by the King. Here at Thranduil's whims, Legolas had little place for guilt and shame. The King held no such feelings within himself and soon found his need pressing achingly against his breeches - too much for his liking. He undid the laces as quickly as he dared, allowing his length to spring free.
Eyes widening, the younger elf watched the king revealing his aching arousal, mesmerised at the sight that was presented to him. Heavy and bobbing proudly, it bested Legolas' length by far and when the king started rutting against his son, the young elf shuddered in sheer wonder as he suddenly found his rear end leaking with self-lubrication, his little puckered hole clenching and unclenching.
'This is new?!' He thought to himself excitedly while fumbling clumsily with the laces of his own breeches.
Thranduil caught sight of Legolas' attempts to free himself and ripped those fumbling hands away. With a low growl he tore the strings and a bit of cloth away, immediately moving to palm the prince's cock in one hand. The other roved beneath Legolas' tunic, feeling the curve of smooth flesh with open lust. Unable to express clear order, he shoved Legolas to rest his head upon the soft couch cushions.
'I would seek to see skin bared and decency removed...' he thought, the scent of sweet arousal driving him to purpose. He scraped off his own tight breeches until they pooled at his knees, and he took a few moments to cast them away. He wore no shoes while in the palace, so there was no need for excessive task. Thranduil gazed upon Legolas with a fierce hunger like acid burning in his eyes.
Careful not to soil the expensive cover of the couch, Legolas let go of the bottle, the remnants of the Dorwinion rolling to the floor. There was so much unspoken promise in his father's dilated pupils as he had watched him drink, leaving the prince wondering if there had been some obscene aspect to him suckling at the bottle without even realising it?
He wasn't given the chance of entertaining that particular train of thought any longer, though, a delicious thrill shooting through him that took any remainder of coherent thought from him when his organ came to twitch in the king's soft palm. He didn't mind his own fingers being swatted away. The young blonde purred when he felt an additional warm hand roam his chest greedily, making him moan as the fingers kept creeping upward. Thranduil's husky growl tickled the delicate shell of Legolas' pointy ear as he breathed against his lobe, causing the prince's arousal to become even more pronounced, inevitably hardening to full capacity under the king's deft ministrations.
Feverishly, Legolas shrugged out of his tunic as best he could, removing the offending fabric until it lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, next to the almost empty wine bottle. His desire for skin-on-skin contact was threatening to burn him from the inside out as he felt his tight channel slickening more and more. Due to his inexperience he could only make an educated guess on what the gushing in his arse was preparing him for.
Thranduil scraped at what more of Legolas' leggings he could until most of the prince's thighs were bared. He caught sight of hot, glistening wetness there and immediately delved with his hand. He spread all that he could all over Legolas' cock and stomach, a smile upon his face.
"Well, look at you..." he purred, finding voice to his thoughts escape. "The wine has loosened you more than I expected..." He made a show of licking his hand, sucking every last sweet drop of his son's wetness into his mouth. The taste was one he could soon find himself addicted to, heady and like syrup. There was however a need to not lick but rather shove, and he placed both hands on Legolas' chest to hold him down. Then he was on his knees, bending over to lower himself, dragging his swelling length along Legolas' inner thigh. It poked down between the warm crevice and Thranduil groaned. Such fleshy pleasure had not been his for centuries! He knew he would not last long, not after the entire day had been spent thinking about more or less this exact moment.
He gazed down into his son's eyes, displaying pure pleasure over his usual condescending glare. He could see that Legolas was utterly drunk, while he himself remained mildly tipsy.
'A perfect.. advantage...'
Legolas gave a surprisingly vocal moan of approval at his father's lewd touch, happy to find a smug smile tugging at the corner of the king's lips when he even dared to taste the prince's bodily fluids in such a naughty fashion.
The alcohol had done a good job of shutting Legolas' brain down effectively, all of the young elf's senses set on experiencing unbridled pleasure now that he was freed from any restriction. His vision was blurred and hazy, but he smiled back at Thranduil when he found himself prone on the couch again, pressed down by his father's weight in wordless command. The moment Thranduil's length thrust between the prince's slippery thighs Legolas gave yet another wanton sound, deep and hoarse, his cheeks flushing brightly in glorious and utter defeat.
Not a single coherent thought dulled his arousal when instinct ordered him to buck his hips, encouraging the king to move in between his legs while Legolas squeezed his thighs tight, then releasing again and repeating.
"Oh please, Ada..." The younger blonde mewled pathetically, transfixed by the flawless, lecherous face above him. "Move, I beg of you!" He breathed, lifting his head and opening his mouth in hope of another searing kiss.
Thranduil dove to kiss his son as requested, though needed no instruction as his lust took control. His hips moved neither frantically or in a desperate jerk, rather riding out the slick wetness between Legolas' thighs like a wave. It was slippery enough for him to practically dance in there but he could feel the day's pressure building in the thick tip of his cock. His own thighs clenched as his muscles worked hard to bring him the peak he desired. He knew Legolas would find pleasure without much effort - how could he not, beneath such a vision of beauty? Legolas' transfixed gaze only served to bring joy to Thranduil's heart, and the King enjoyed the singular focus upon him as he always did.
"Mmmmnnn..." Thranduil opened his mouth to breathe a hot sigh against Legolas' lips. "You beg very sweetly, ion nin. Do you like that, hm? This, h..here?" His breath caught in his throat, coming out in a soft grunt moments later. Thranduil pressed his cock flat against his son's balls and began to move up and down, the most obscenely wet noises rising from the contact. He made sure Legolas was looking at him and rose to sit up straight, casting his robes away. In all his glory he was of creamy white flesh and pure indulgence, the sinful tell of raised nipples signaling his absolute euphoria. He'd waited for what felt like an eternity for this moment. Yet, he was highly aware of it and knew he would remember this for centuries to come. Provided, of course, that Legolas continued to refresh his memory.
The prince whimpered when Thranduil caught his mouth in yet another wickedly decadent kiss, exploring the young elf's mouth and easily dominating his tongue with renewed vigour. Legolas' gaze wandered over the king's lust-driven features in awe. He ran his fingers through Thranduil's silver-blond hair when their kiss deepened, taking nascent pride in being able to stir such an unbridled reaction in the king by the simple fact of relinquishing control. Now that a certain point was exceeded, Legolas realised that submitting to his father's every whim came to him rather naturally, even exciting him beyond measure. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt so delirious with need, yet wanted and safe at the same time. It was a marvellous feeling. Addicting on first try.
'Oh this can't be that wrong, can it?'
Legolas felt like he was dreaming some very naughty dream, the constant stimulant, both visual and physical, driving him absolutely mad with pent-up desire. Never had he thought himself capable of acting so wanton, so depraved as to revel in Thranduil's perfectly executed manipulation of his body. The lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh and his father's teasing, baritone voice in his ear elicited an ecstatic array of gasps from the young prince.
When the king rose to display his perfect body in all its otherworldly glory, unceasing in his merciless movements, Legolas couldn't help but arch his back as he gave a choked cry. His father's name burned hot on his lips. Eyes rolling up into his head, ripples of pure bliss washed over the prince's body when his shuddering form was flung away by convulsive release, a feeling that was far beyond his wildest hopes and fantasies. His oversensitive balls tightened to an almost painful degree, thick spurts of creamy, milky white come painting his front in copious amounts. The crumpled couch cover underneath him was inevitably ruined thanks to the plentiful self-lubricant that gushed out of his arse. If it hadn't been for the alcohol and intense orgasm, Legolas would have probably faded from the embarrassment of his body's treacherous response.
The sight of Legolas' glorious release was all Thranduil needed to reach his own peak. As Legolas was nearly drowned in his own fluids, Thranduil jerked his hips up and saw a torrent of hot, sweet come flood down the prince's chest. The long moan he let out only served to intensify his pleasure, leaving him panting for breath and sapped of energy. This feeling, this pure rush of all stress and tension out of his body... he could not think of anything better, and he'd seen much indulgence during the past seven thousand years. His eyelids fell shut, long lashes brushing against his prominent cheekbones.
"Aye..." he gasped out, lowering his head without care for what mess his hair fell in. "Ngh..." His chest rose and fell with every breath, as did his stomach which he lowered to rest upon his son's own. His robes remained clean and on the floor while his body was practically swimming in come. His own was fragrant, and similar in texture to fresh, thick vanilla cream. It was however quite sugary and if left lying around would probably attract millions of ants. Thranduil could not just have that. He rolled aside, dipped his head down and began to lick Legolas clean. Over fine muscles and soft skin he laved his tongue, lazily substituting a proper dinner for his beautifully displayed son. After all, Legolas did taste quite delicious. Thranduil only paused now and then to breathe.
Legolas was dizzy, his chest heaving with laboured breaths in the aftermath of the most overwhelming experience he had ever come to know. It put the entirety of his foregone sheepish and timid attempts at finding pleasure by his own hands to shame, rare as they were.
A post-coital glow spread over the prince and his head snapped up in curiosity when he found his Ada lapping at his chest, licking away the bathful of their sweet, shared release. Legolas was too fascinated by Thranduil's behaviour that it didn't even cross his mind to return the favour. Instead he blinked, studying the king who currently looked not so kingly anymore: Hair tousled and sticky with come, body glistening in perspiration and his chiselled facial features tinted with red flushes from excitement.
'Beauty in its most primal form.' Legolas thought to himself, happy that his usually vain father didn't seem to give a damn about his looks in this moment of shared intimacy.
"Oh Ada, you have no idea how beautiful you are right now." Legolas purred affectionately, raising a hand to gently tuck a loose strand of silken hair that blocked his view behind his Adar's ear.
A low groan almost in deep song spilled from Thranduil's lips. Had he not been so utterly spent, his arousal would have risen at the mere words. He tilted his head into his son's touch, sensitive ears already reddened at their tips.
"Ooohhh.... a pity you shall not remember it come morning. Remain by my side and treasure the sight, hm?" He was in no mood to get up and run to a hot bath, though felt no hurry to languish and let his sticky body crystallise. Just resting here was good enough... and as long as he didn't move, he could ignore his messy state. His mind still swam in the shallow waters of post-orgasm bliss, and judging by Legolas' face he was too.
Tomorrow morning he planned to bathe with his son in the mineral hot springs deep within the palace. There, servants would attend to the arduous task of scrubbing come and sweat from royal flesh until both King and Prince sparkled. Thranduil was curious to chase his son's state of mind when he awoke. All he had to do now however was wait.
Legolas nodded in wordless consent, a happy expression ghosting over his face. As far as he was concerned, the prince could have watched his gorgeous father in all his wickedly glistening nakedness forever and a day. However, now that the aftershocks of his mind-blowing orgasm were slowly subsiding, physical fatigue and the remnants of the Dorwinion were eventually taking their toll on the young elf. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier and he knew from experience that it wouldn't take long for him to fall asleep, no matter how much he fought it.
"If this is not a dream," Legolas whispered, no longer slurring that much. Snuggling up tightly to the king, he revelled in the warmth and comfort of the close contact. The prince reached for his father's still sticky hand, inhaling the alluring scent, then kissing the knuckles reverently as he had done so many times before.
"Please don't lead me to believe it's just been a sensationally sinful, hazy memory by morning, will you?" Legolas pleaded, closing his eyes to block out the sudden anxiety clutching at his heart. "I couldn't bear to go through all that shame and emotional turmoil again, I..."
Legolas let the rest of the sentence hanging mid-air, his head rolling to the side. His nose and cheek pressed against Thranduil's chest, the prince sound asleep as he was ultimately overcome by tiredness.
☙✨♛✨❧
A/N: Oh Legolas Legolas... *shakes head and grins* The wine surely loosened you up!^^ Just give in, will you?!^^
We hope you enjoyed this our smutty little present for you, dear readers?! As usual, comments etc. are very welcome and much appreciated. Merry Christmas and happy holidays to everybody! :D ❄❅❆
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