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The Lost and the Hidden City	By : pip & BronxWench Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2742 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own Middle Earth, any of Tolkien's world or characters. We make no money from this work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter Five
The bath was indeed populated, but no one took any special notice of the lovers, and they were far more circumspect in their bathing this time, despite Glorfindel managing a few tickles and touches which nearly made him cry out. They strolled back to Glorfindel’s room, passing no one.
He fully expected to be pushed against the nearest wall as soon as the door closed, but Glorfindel led him to the bed, and then turned to rummage for a flagon of miruvor and some glasses. He poured them both a small measure of the cordial, and curled up next to Gildor on the bed.
They sipped their drinks, looking into each other’s eyes, and Gildor was certain that at any moment, Glorfindel would do something sudden, such as pounce on him. Yet it didn’t happen. Gildor experimentally put out his hand, and Glorfindel raised his. Their palms pressed together, fingers entwining. It was hardly anything, but if felt like such an intimate touch.
Gildor finished off his drink and put his glass aside. With his free hand, he touched Glorfindel’s lips with his fingers. Glorfindel did not do anything besides kiss Gildor’s fingers, though his eyes closed. It was so easy to lean forward and capture Glorfindel’s lips with his own. This time, he found himself directing the kiss, and he did so with a pleased sound.
When he had tasted enough, he moved to Glorfindel’s jaw, smiling against his lover’s skin when Glorfindel tilted his head back, giving access to his throat. He pulled back for a moment, and he realised that Glorfindel really was his. This, more than Glorfindel’s claiming of him, made it clear. Something in him soared with joy, and he smiled as he took away Glorfindel’s glass and pushed his lover back onto the bed, into the pillows.
He pushed open Glorfindel’s robe, breathing in the scent of soap, sun, and elf. It was a heady scent, uniquely Glorfindel, and he leaned closer to revel in it. Glorfindel’s strong chest was bared, the golden hair just a bit darker than the curls of his head. The warrior’s nipples peeked out, tight and rosy, and he bent his head to kiss one peaked nub, the tip of his tongue flickering past his lips to tease it.
And still, Glorfindel did not pounce. He sprawled on the bed, his eyes hooded as he watched Gildor explore. One large hand lifted, came to rest on Gildor’s head, to stroke him tenderly, the touch gentle and loving. He straddled his lover as he nuzzled, pressing kisses to both nipples in turn as he came to understand there was no hurry this time, no burning urgency. He was free to savour Glorfindel, to explore without boundaries.
He ran his hands along Glorfindel’s sides, mapping the curves and angles of his lover. He could feel the hardness of rib beneath warm skin and taut muscle, and all but hear the thrum of blood in Glorfindel’s veins. He traced the sharp points of hipbones, and explored the powerful thighs and dimpled flanks, and still, Glorfindel merely watched, eyes heated with desire.
He could make this last longer, he knew, but he didn’t want to. He moved down, encouraging Glorfindel to spread his legs so he could lie down between them. From where he was, he could look into Glorfindel’s eyes, but he could also see the warrior’s cock, so close, and he reached out a hand to touch.
Glorfindel was already mostly hard, but his cock firmed immediately when Gildor touched him, and he heard Glorfindel whisper an expletive above him. Gildor smiled, curling his fingers around it, marvelling that it fit inside him, because Glorfindel really was generously proportioned.
“Do you remember your wish at the dinner table?” he asked, flicking his eyes up to look, seeing Glorfindel let his head fall back onto the pillows with a slight thud. “No cheating now,” Gildor teased. “If I remember correctly, you wanted to watch.”
Something in him surged with new found power when Glorfindel obediently raised his head, looking down his body to where Gildor was. Using his hand to hold Glorfindel’s cock up and away, he leaned in and curled his tongue around the fleshy sac beneath, feeling the heavy shape of Glorfindel’s balls inside. He captured one gently in his mouth, tracing the shape with his tongue.
Glorfindel sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes never leaving Gildor as his lips closed around his lover’s balls, first one, and then the other. A small drop of moisture, gleaming in the soft light, appeared on the head of Glorfindel’s thick cock, and he released his prize long enough to lap away the pearly drop.
“Don’t move,” Gildor cautioned. “I am not done with you, aníra nín. I have only begun to taste you, and you are very sweet indeed.” He was thrilled when Glorfindel nodded, watching rapt as Gildor ran his tongue over the head of his cock once more before returning to lapping at his sac. He thought about it for a moment, and then ran the tip of one finger behind the sac, teasing Glorfindel with the lightest of strokes. The gasp he earned was more than worth it.
Glorfindel’s reaction to his touch was exactly what Gildor needed to lose himself, and he moved up to pay attention to that magnificent cock, teasing and caressing with his tongue before taking Glorfindel into his mouth. His length and girth ruled out much, but Gildor made up for that with experience and enthusiasm, making full use of his tongue, using his hand to complete the sensation for his lover, and letting Glorfindel hit the back of his throat again and again.
The moans that floated down the bed to him were like music to his ears, especially when they got louder, and he knew that he could - and would - make Glorfindel come like this. Since they had bathed, Glorfindel tasted of clean water, but for the precome that leaked from him, which Gildor treated like sweetest nectar. He truly did taste wonderful, and Gildor worked hard to get more of it, until he heard his lover call out his name, and he knew it was now.
One of his hands was busy fondling Glorfindel’s balls, so he felt it when they drew up and he knew the moment was upon him. He sealed his lips over Glorfindel as he came, squeezing the orgasm out of him as he swallowed everything the warrior could give him.
Glorfindel’s voice broke over his name, and he shivered with the knowledge of how he had been able to bring Glorfindel to this state. Thus far it had been Glorfindel taking control, but it was intoxicating to know he had a few surprises yet for his lover. No one else had made a claim on his heart, but he had enjoyed making love with all his partners. This, however, surpassed anything he had known in the past.
He gave a last suck, making sure he had not missed a drop, and looked up at Glorfindel. “Much sweeter than that fig,” he murmured, and watched Glorfindel’s cheeks flush with hectic colour. “You might become my new favourite dessert.” The last of the wine he had drunk at dinner, and the small glass of miruvor which had undone all the good of the bath in sobering him, combined to make him feel bold.
He was still settled between Glorfindel’s thighs, having no great desire to move yet. One hand absently fondled his lover’s balls, the weight of them diminished somewhat, yet they remained heavy in his palm. The warrior’s magnificent cock had softened, but it was still suitably impressive as it lay across his powerful thigh. Feeling playful, he pressed a kiss to the crown, and heard Glorfindel suck in a breath above him.
“And you call me wicked,” Glorfindel murmured as Gildor kissed his way slowly up the warrior’s body, pausing to explore the shape of his abdominal muscles. Gildor hummed with pleasure - Glorfindel really was a dream made real.
The heavy, hot feeling of his erection intensified as he gloried in his further exploration, and he lost his focus once or twice as his cock dragged pleasurably along Glorfindel’s muscled thigh. Glorfindel actually growled. Gildor ignored him, for now.
“Move your head this way,” he said, and his lover acquiesced, leaving him free to nibble gently at an exposed ear.
“Is this revenge?” Glorfindel asked, and now he sounded far less dangerous. His voice was slightly breathy - a thing that Gildor wouldn’t have believed possible until now. It made a sudden smile break out on his face, and kept him from his task for a few seconds. When he resumed, he suckled lightly at the tip of Glorfindel’s ear.
“Ai!” Glorfindel gasped, and he sounded utterly helpless. “You are a tease, Gildor!” he managed.
Gildor paused in his current occupation long enough to whisper. “So what if I am?” he queried. “I do not recall you setting any rules, oh, mighty balrog slayer. Too late now.” And he went straight back to suckling tenderly, dragging one of Glorfindel’s hands down to touch him.
He could not quite believe he had Glorfindel at his mercy, but it was so. The warrior offered himself up to his explorations without protest, although he was quite sure this would not be a frequent thing. It made it all the more sweet, he decided, and so he teased the graceful point of his lover’s ear while Glorfindel closed a large hand around him.
“Oh, yes, just like that,” Gildor purred in encouragement. He wondered if he would be allowed to have Glorfindel, or if it would be pushing his lover too far. He had always been comfortable with both taking and being taken, but he suspected Glorfindel was not as willing to be taken. This, though, this game of touches and tastes was far too enjoyable to stop just yet.
He glanced down, and saw the gleam of his precome on Glorfindel’s thumb. Acting on a wicked impulse, he released his lover’s ear and tugged Glorfindel’s hand up. “Taste me,” he directed, and he was dizzy with delight when Glorfindel cleaned his own thumb with long, lascivious licks.
Their gazes caught and held. Glorfindel’s eyes were a deeper blue as he finished licking his thumb. Gildor darted his eyes to the side, seeing how Glorfindel’s ear tip was a deep pink, shining wetly in the light. Beneath him Glorfindel actually shivered.
“No!” Glorfindel gasped when he moved to resume teasing all over again, and the next thing he knew he was on his back. Glorfindel held his wrists in his hands, his weight bearing down on his forearms, beneath which Gildor’s elbows were pressed into the bed. Glorfindel’s legs had wrapped around his in such a way he could not move them. He could not move at all, try as he might, except for his head.
Gildor stretched his neck out, eyes still on that tender ear tip, but it was hopeless. “Spoilsport,” he muttered, frowning. Glorfindel sighed, and he might be coming back to himself if the look in his eyes was any indication. They slowly cleared while Gildor struggled helplessly.
“You could at least finish what you began,” he said, looking down at his cock mournfully. His plea earned him a startled look, and then a rich chuckle which made him ache even more.
“Oh, could I? After all of your teasing?” Glorfindel looked him over, and he squirmed harder. “I think I like you better like this, pinned beneath me and awaiting my pleasure.”
“Wicked, wicked elf. There was no rule about not teasing you.” He tried to lift his hips, seeking friction, and tossed his head in an effort to gain a little more freedom.
“Perhaps I need to make one, my captive beauty. I really do like seeing you like this, open and eager.” Glorfindel’s eyes were clear again, and he welcomed the return of his lover, even if he had been enjoying his turn a great deal. “And I will admit, you have a very talented mouth. I will remember that.”
He felt a rush of pride. He had pleased Glorfindel enough to register, even in that sweet daze. He could not help a smile, and Glorfindel chuckled again. “You like hearing praise, do you? Well, then. Let us see if you can earn some more praise.”
Gildor made one more attempt to move, clenching his teeth to aid him as he tried to fight Glorfindel’s weight on him, but it was impossible, and he relaxed with a sigh.
“How would I earn it?” he asked, deciding that there was nothing else but to go along with this game. He liked games, but suspected this one would be difficult to bear. He resisted the urge to call Glorfindel ‘wicked’ again, just in case it was the difference between receiving mercy or not.
Glorfindel grinned, and then Gildor knew he really was in trouble. “We can begin with obedience,” Glorfindel said slowly. “I will release you, and you will stay where you are.”
That sounded all too easy. What was he planning? Gildor nodded, and that heavy weight was lifted from his arms as Glorfindel let go of his wrists. He stayed still as Glorfindel rifled through a drawer at the side of the bed, and when he straightened, he held up some lengths of satin.
“Give me your hands,” he ordered, and Gildor swallowed audibly. When he held them out, they were shaking. All he could think of was being restrained, at Glorfindel’s mercy, probably while Glorfindel took him again. The idea made him feel faint.
Glorfindel wound the satin around his wrists, binding them together neatly. Gildor did not dare to test the strength of the binding. Instead, he remained as still as possible, grateful the satin was not tight enough to hurt. His breath came in short pants, and his eyes were wide as he watched Glorfindel.
A second length of satin was then drawn through the headboard, in between the carved vines and leaves. His mouth felt dry, and he swallowed again to try and coax forth a little saliva.
Glorfindel frowned slightly, and he tried not to shiver. “Are you afraid?”
“No.” The answer came quickly, and Glorfindel’s frown deepened.
“Nothing I have done has hurt you, and nothing I will do is meant to hurt you, at least not in a manner which should inspire fear. Do you trust me?”
Gildor opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again. It was a reasonable question, but he was not at all sure he wanted to answer it quickly. Instead he took a careful breath, willing himself to relax.
Of course the problem was that he was afraid. Not in the way Glorfindel seemed to think, but still… and he didn’t want to admit to it. He was not prepared to go that far yet. He was afraid because he knew he’d lost himself once or twice in Glorfindel’s arms, and he could not imagine how that would feel if he was also restrained. Glorfindel was like a force of nature.
But then, he also recalled how he’d felt safe. Ultimately, Glorfindel would never harm him in any way. Gildor smiled. “I trust you,” he said, and there must have been enough truth in it, because Glorfindel kissed him quickly, then continued to secure his wrists to the head of the bed.
Once it was done, the fluttery nervousness decreased, and Gildor felt much calmer. His body was exposed and he was defenceless as Glorfindel’s large palms skimmed over his chest and stomach. His hands were warm and dry, and as Gildor closed his eyes it seemed almost more like an examination than a caress. Maybe Glorfindel was testing for weaknesses? That thought made a shiver run through him, and he gasped before he could bite his lip and keep it in.
“Mîr nín, if you cannot do this, you must tell me.” Glorfindel’s voice was tender and his hands stilled on Gildor’s body. “Lendeth nín.”
He did not want to open his eyes, and see his lover’s face. He wanted to imagine for himself the expression Glorfindel wore. His voice was barely a whisper. “I want to do this. Please…”
Glorfindel hummed an assent, and his large, strong hands resumed their explorations, sliding over his belly and down his flanks. He managed not to moan, but he felt a wetness on his belly and knew it to be his own precome. The need was growing with every pass of Glorfindel’s hands, and he wondered if he could find release without being touched at all. If it were possible, he had no doubt Glorfindel would make it happen.
Despite his growing tension, and the tightness in his balls, his breathing slowed and he let himself relax under his lover’s hands. He had surrendered control. Nothing had been taken from him that he had not willingly given, and he gave himself over to the moment. What would come was out of his hands, but he would trust Glorfindel.
When he felt Glorfindel pushing his legs wide, he could not keep in a whimper, and he opened his eyes despite himself as he felt fingertips trailing lightly over his inner thighs. It felt fantastic, and he moaned, his eyes half-open, looking at Glorfindel who had settled in a kneeling position between his legs.
“Touch me,” he begged, “please.” He could feel the heat of his cock as it rolled around on his lower body, and surely Glorfindel would not ignore his need forever? He twisted his hands in the binding, to no avail, all while Glorfindel watched him.
“I thought you wanted me to taste you?” Glorfindel asked, and Gildor stilled immediately, his eyes widening now. He did not move nor make a sound, in case that would change his lover’s mind. Glorfindel licked his lips, but then instead of bending over Gildor’s body, those large hands slid beneath him, lifting his lower body so that Glorfindel had only to incline his head.
He had not realised how strong Glorfindel truly was, to hold his weight like that. But his biceps bulged as he did it, leaning over to lick with the flat of his tongue. How easy it was for him to watch like this! Gildor cried out at the touch of that wet tongue, and his legs kicked out at the empty air.
“Easy, mîr nín.” Glorfindel licked again, his tongue sliding from the base to the crown, and Gildor could not look away. Glorfindel reminded him of a great, golden hunting cat, intent on its prey, and toying with it for its own amusement. He was as hapless as prey, a mouse in his lover’s claws, but he would not have changed a thing, not when Glorfindel’s tongue was doing such things to him.
He was panting again, struggling not to keen as that beguiling tongue worked its magic. He was lost in a whirlwind of sensations, his wrists firmly bound and any hope of leverage removed. All he could do was submit, offer up his willing surrender in the hopes of absolution, of release. The tip of Glorfindel’s tongue danced across the crown of his cock, dipping to flick over the tightened, sensitive fold of skin there, and his voice broke on the cry which was dragged from him.
“Please…” he begged, his voice shivering into what might have been a sob. He was exposed, beyond any hope of hiding, but he did not dare voice the emotion which filled him. He would not say the words, not so soon, not like this.
Glorfindel caught the head of Gildor’s cock with his lips, and from this angle he had a perfect vision of the dark cavern of Glorfindel’s mouth before he was sucked slowly inside, warm lips tight over his skin. At the same time, Glorfindel lowered him back down to the bed, and the restoration of his equilibrium made it feel as though he was sliding deep inside somewhere. So perfect.
“Oh, Glorfindel,” he said, his own voice so deep he could feel it vibrate in his chest. For a second or two, the warrior paused, and then his lips began to drag up. This time it was a high-pitched hitch of breath that came from him.
To his dismay, Glorfindel did not continue, but pulled away and raised his head, freeing his hands from beneath Gildor’s weight. Gildor closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “Wicked tease,” he complained, and he knew he was right. From what he had seen, Glorfindel didn’t usually play with his food. He opened his mouth to say it, but Glorfindel’s next gentle touch forestalled him.
He hadn’t realised Glorfindel had taken the oil down the bed with him until he felt one thick finger, slippery with it, tracing a path up the ridge of his cock. Gildor tossed his head, refusing to look as Glorfindel slowly painted his entire cock with oil, though he knew his cock twitched and danced for Glorfindel. At last he felt the warrior’s fingers form into a loose ring around him, and he couldn’t help thrusting up into that light grip, not quite enough to satisfy him.
Glorfindel’s chuckle was as infuriating as it was thrilling, and he tried to thrust up even more, desperate for sensation. He yanked a little against his bonds to no avail, a whimper escaping him. “Please, please,” he begged, his hips twisting. Glorfindel anticipated every move, and his touch never tightened enough to give him what he sought.
Even without the stimulation he wanted, Gildor found himself moving ever closer to the edge. He was panting again, his skin heated and slick with sweat. This was what he sought, every sensation clear and distinct. He was aware of the faint movement of air across his skin, and the sound of oil as his cock slid over it. He could taste his own tears when he licked his lips, but he still refused to open his eyes.
While one of Glorfindel’s hands continued with the teasing, the other moved beneath him, further back, fingers slick with the same oil. It was a slow thing this time, those fingers merely slid between his buttocks, not entering him straight away. Instead it almost seemed as if Glorfindel was only massaging him there, the pads of his oiled fingers slipping over that intimate place time and again, until he wanted them dreadfully.
When they did penetrate him, that too was slowly done. It didn’t matter which way he turned his body, or how he moved, he could not seem to get any real relief.
“Glorfindel…” he moaned, and he was proud of managing to say his lover’s name, since his body was an unbearable riot of sheer need.
“Look at me,” Glorfindel said, and Gildor struggled to do as he was bid, opening his eyes and trying to keep his head still. Glorfindel stared at him, his gaze intense. “Now or later,” he said. “The choice is yours.”
“Now!” he gasped. “Please…” At last those hands gave him what he wanted, and there was suddenly a firm grip around his cock, while the fingers moved deeper inside him, touching him exactly where he wanted them. It did not take Glorfindel long, and Gildor really was incoherent when he came, though he did manage to call out Glorfindel’s name again, he was certain.
It took longer than he expected to come back to himself. He could feel the stickiness on his belly, and the heat of Glorfindel, so close to him, murmuring gentle words of praise into his damp hair.
“You are so beautiful like this, mîr nín. You take my breath away when you give yourself over to me so completely.” Glorfindel’s voice was soft, but it resonated through Gildor like the beating of a drum. It took a moment to understand it was his own heartbeat he heard.
Thick, warm fingers smoothed his hair back from his face, and stroked over his cheekbones, coming away damp. He swallowed, licked his lips, and tried to think of something to say, to explain how he felt, what he felt.
“Glorfindel…” It seemed sufficient, and he smiled, suddenly lethargic. He blinked, and his eyes fluttered closed, trusting his lover to hold him close while he remembered how to be.

To be continued...

Authors' Note: We hope you had fun! Oh, but our two elves aren't finished yet. More next week. Go on and leave a comment for us – you know you want to! :)

Translations:
mîr nín – my treasure
lendeth nín – my sweet
aníra-nín – my desire
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The Lost and the Hidden City