To me, with me.
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-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,940
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,940
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
To me, with me.
Ficlet: To me, with me.
Author: Fishy (fishyz9@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel.
Rating: NC17
Beta: Charlie/Keiliss
Notes: AU, PWP, Slash. Erestor’s POV.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: The Captain, and Chief councilor of Imladris.
To me, with me.
He is the strongest, the bravest, the mightiest. And he comes to me. He is a legend; he is feared by his enemies and respected by his peers, and he comes to me. He is Glorfindel, Balrog slayer, reborn warrior and Captain of Imladris. And he comes to me.
Many swoon at his feet, male and female. Gallant, noble and beautiful is he, and he comes to me.
Each night I wait for the knock upon my door. ‘Come.’ I will say, and that is all, for through the remaining night not a single word that is not a cry of passion passes our lips. In the mornings I will feign reverie, so as to watch this golden lion stretch and leave my bed, sparing a single glance back at where I lie upon the tussled sheets he has rearranged around me.
This was how it began, and continued. One night he simply came to my door and silently entered at my bidding. I greeted him, surprised to find him in my rooms at such a late hour, and without a word, he had me, all of me. And I let him, Why? Because he had come to me. No one else. Of all the beauties this world has to offer, he wanted me.
No words have been spoken as yet, no discussion of the possible manifestations, no confusion or complications;, it is not needed, because he comes to me. But we have, in our own way, developed. What had once been purely nights of passion have become more. In the beginning he had come at night, and would leave before the first rays of dawn with no lingering touches of a lover, for neither of us had defined our joining as such. But of late, it has not been so.
He wakes before me always, or so he thinks. Where before he would silently leave, now, now he leans up on one elbow, and stares. He stares down at me, and each morning he stares a little longer, I love it. I nearly give away my waking state at times, only just managing to hide my smile as he gently touches my fingers, or bends down and breathes in the scent of my hair. And I no longer think of how he comes to me, but rather that he stays with me. He stays with me.
My breath catches in my throat with giddy excitement as I hear his knock.
“Come,” I say.
He enters, and pauses as he sees me upon the bed, waiting for him. I lay back resting an arm behind my head, completely naked, and watch his reaction. His eyes flare, and he hastily closes the door behind him. Despite my naked state, his gaze is drawn in by my own. And I know that the charcoal that outlines my dark eyes pleases him.
He comes to stand beside the bed, and swiftly disrobes, never taking his eyes off me. I grin as he pulls his leggings down and over his full erection. I have done that to him, and I have not even moved a muscle.
He kneels upon the bed and nudges my thighs apart, though he doesn’t need to; I spread shamelessly. He lays upon me, careful so as not to smother my smaller figure, but makes it so that I have no escape from him. And then, he shocks me. He gently smudges the blackness over my lids with the pads of his thumbs, and then kisses each one. I have no time to voice or even show my surprise at such a tender touch, a touch he would only usually dare if he thought me asleep. I have no time, as he covers my mouth with his own.
The sex, oh Valar, the sex. It is godly, and I make sure he knows as much through my desperate moaning of his name. We are vertical now, kneeling upon the mattress. He holds my hips in support as he thrusts inside of me, alternating between shallow and quick, deep and slow. It matters not, for each thrust brings a plea for more from my lips.
I desperately turn my head around for a messy kiss, and he eagerly indulges me. My cries become louder, more shrill and delirious as he thrusts deeper, quicker, harder. Soon his force has me on my stomach, flat on the bed as I can no longer stay upright under such brutal passion. He lifts my hips up in a tight grip, and continues to pound into me, crying out with each forwards lunge.
A hand reaches beneath me, and takes hold of my cock. He strokes quickly, as his own orgasm is upon him. With a guttural growling of my name, driving me mad, he splashes his hot juices inside of me. This, let alone the hand which squeezes my cock, is enough to make me come upon the bed beneath me, as I scream his name.
We both fall flat onto the bed. I reach behind and guide his softening member out of me. I know he would gladly stay within me, nestled inside of my buttocks, as we slip into reverie. Such a closeness was tempting, but would shatter the pretence we hold. So I make it easier for both of us, and disconnect our bodies.
Now we lie, we have our breath back, and this is the only awkward moment. He always stays but oddly enough, and much to my amusement, he stays without my permission. I would never send him away but he does not know this. So he pulls the sheets over us and rolls to face away from me, so that he can not see me, so that I am not given the chance to silently ask him to leave as he thinks I want him to.
He does not realise that I am aware of how I wake in his arms each morn. He does not realise that I know he has secretly hidden some of his own hair grips in my drawers, nestled intimately against my own.
But this time, I see him take a deep breath, and roll onto his side, the side that faces me. I see his hand slowly and hesitantly reach across the small space between us, and upon meeting its goal, my hip, he swallows hard, and will not look me in the eye.
If he were to look me in the eye, he would see the quirk of my lips, the amusement in my face. I decide to at once shock him and put him out of his misery. I pull his hand from my hip and for a moment I read great pain in his eyes. But that is before I move closer, and place that same hand on my buttock cheek. I rest my head beneath his chin, and lazily let my hand stroke up and down his bicep.
I smile as I hear him sigh and rest his cheek against the top of my head. The hand on my behind gently strokes and squeezes, and I feel a lovely stinging in my eyes as he, without the aid of passion and through affection only, kisses the top of my head.
That is how we awoke, in that exact position, and this time, I do not feign sleep. But the time comes when he needs to depart for his early morning duties. For myself, I do not yet need to stir, for my duties lie within my office, only a short walk away, and not on the boarders of our land.
I watch him with a grin, as he uses my bathroom to splash water on his face. And I chuckle as he slowly opens one of my drawers, checking to see if I watch as he retrieves one of his hair grips. He grins sheepishly then as he thinks himself found out, but smiles as I simply wink at him in silent agreement and permission.
He walks towards the bed where I still lay watching, and kisses my brow, before turning and heading towards the door. He pauses though, and looks back at me. He licks his bottom lip and, turning, walks towards the bed. I simply watch, still reclined and with mild amusement, as he sits perched upon the side of the mattress.
He pulls a tie loose from one of his braids, before reaching down to draw a small dagger from his boot. I raise a brow in question, and that is all. I do not fear him, and do not even go as far as to cover my naked form.
His eyes flicker unsurely to my own, and I find it hard not to chuckle as I think of how mysterious I once thought this elf. He still holds knowledge that no other does, this much I know, but he is no mystery to me, not anymore, he is…lovely. Tender and dominating all at once. And I especially love the fact that I am the only one who knows him as anything but a mystery.
He reaches for a dark spiral of my hair, and gently caresses it. He takes his small tie and wraps it around the end of the lock, about three inches from the tip. He holds his dagger and looks to me for permission, which he receives as a completely calm and accepting smile, before carefully severing the lock.
He looks from me to the lock in his hand, places the lock in the inside of his tunic, and then gently lays his hand over it from the outside. He reaches out then and gently touches my cheek, and I send him wide eyed as I purr in a downright feline manner. He grins and leans down to kiss my brow once more, but pauses, and presses our lips together instead.
I hum sweetly into the kiss and his lips curve into a smile against mine. He pulls himself away from my naked and enticing form with some difficulty, and I chuckle aloud at this. He stands then, and speaks to me for the first time, ever, in the morning hour.
“I will see you tonight, Erestor.” he whispers.
And I reply, “Tonight, Glorfindel.”
And finally, he leaves for his duties. I immediately roll onto my back and cover my wide smile with my hand. We are lovers.
I walk the rest of the day with a light step, because he is the bravest and mightiest. He is the most gentle and passionate.
And he comes to me.
He stays with me.
The End.
__________________________________________________
Author: Fishy (fishyz9@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel.
Rating: NC17
Beta: Charlie/Keiliss
Notes: AU, PWP, Slash. Erestor’s POV.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: The Captain, and Chief councilor of Imladris.
To me, with me.
He is the strongest, the bravest, the mightiest. And he comes to me. He is a legend; he is feared by his enemies and respected by his peers, and he comes to me. He is Glorfindel, Balrog slayer, reborn warrior and Captain of Imladris. And he comes to me.
Many swoon at his feet, male and female. Gallant, noble and beautiful is he, and he comes to me.
Each night I wait for the knock upon my door. ‘Come.’ I will say, and that is all, for through the remaining night not a single word that is not a cry of passion passes our lips. In the mornings I will feign reverie, so as to watch this golden lion stretch and leave my bed, sparing a single glance back at where I lie upon the tussled sheets he has rearranged around me.
This was how it began, and continued. One night he simply came to my door and silently entered at my bidding. I greeted him, surprised to find him in my rooms at such a late hour, and without a word, he had me, all of me. And I let him, Why? Because he had come to me. No one else. Of all the beauties this world has to offer, he wanted me.
No words have been spoken as yet, no discussion of the possible manifestations, no confusion or complications;, it is not needed, because he comes to me. But we have, in our own way, developed. What had once been purely nights of passion have become more. In the beginning he had come at night, and would leave before the first rays of dawn with no lingering touches of a lover, for neither of us had defined our joining as such. But of late, it has not been so.
He wakes before me always, or so he thinks. Where before he would silently leave, now, now he leans up on one elbow, and stares. He stares down at me, and each morning he stares a little longer, I love it. I nearly give away my waking state at times, only just managing to hide my smile as he gently touches my fingers, or bends down and breathes in the scent of my hair. And I no longer think of how he comes to me, but rather that he stays with me. He stays with me.
My breath catches in my throat with giddy excitement as I hear his knock.
“Come,” I say.
He enters, and pauses as he sees me upon the bed, waiting for him. I lay back resting an arm behind my head, completely naked, and watch his reaction. His eyes flare, and he hastily closes the door behind him. Despite my naked state, his gaze is drawn in by my own. And I know that the charcoal that outlines my dark eyes pleases him.
He comes to stand beside the bed, and swiftly disrobes, never taking his eyes off me. I grin as he pulls his leggings down and over his full erection. I have done that to him, and I have not even moved a muscle.
He kneels upon the bed and nudges my thighs apart, though he doesn’t need to; I spread shamelessly. He lays upon me, careful so as not to smother my smaller figure, but makes it so that I have no escape from him. And then, he shocks me. He gently smudges the blackness over my lids with the pads of his thumbs, and then kisses each one. I have no time to voice or even show my surprise at such a tender touch, a touch he would only usually dare if he thought me asleep. I have no time, as he covers my mouth with his own.
The sex, oh Valar, the sex. It is godly, and I make sure he knows as much through my desperate moaning of his name. We are vertical now, kneeling upon the mattress. He holds my hips in support as he thrusts inside of me, alternating between shallow and quick, deep and slow. It matters not, for each thrust brings a plea for more from my lips.
I desperately turn my head around for a messy kiss, and he eagerly indulges me. My cries become louder, more shrill and delirious as he thrusts deeper, quicker, harder. Soon his force has me on my stomach, flat on the bed as I can no longer stay upright under such brutal passion. He lifts my hips up in a tight grip, and continues to pound into me, crying out with each forwards lunge.
A hand reaches beneath me, and takes hold of my cock. He strokes quickly, as his own orgasm is upon him. With a guttural growling of my name, driving me mad, he splashes his hot juices inside of me. This, let alone the hand which squeezes my cock, is enough to make me come upon the bed beneath me, as I scream his name.
We both fall flat onto the bed. I reach behind and guide his softening member out of me. I know he would gladly stay within me, nestled inside of my buttocks, as we slip into reverie. Such a closeness was tempting, but would shatter the pretence we hold. So I make it easier for both of us, and disconnect our bodies.
Now we lie, we have our breath back, and this is the only awkward moment. He always stays but oddly enough, and much to my amusement, he stays without my permission. I would never send him away but he does not know this. So he pulls the sheets over us and rolls to face away from me, so that he can not see me, so that I am not given the chance to silently ask him to leave as he thinks I want him to.
He does not realise that I am aware of how I wake in his arms each morn. He does not realise that I know he has secretly hidden some of his own hair grips in my drawers, nestled intimately against my own.
But this time, I see him take a deep breath, and roll onto his side, the side that faces me. I see his hand slowly and hesitantly reach across the small space between us, and upon meeting its goal, my hip, he swallows hard, and will not look me in the eye.
If he were to look me in the eye, he would see the quirk of my lips, the amusement in my face. I decide to at once shock him and put him out of his misery. I pull his hand from my hip and for a moment I read great pain in his eyes. But that is before I move closer, and place that same hand on my buttock cheek. I rest my head beneath his chin, and lazily let my hand stroke up and down his bicep.
I smile as I hear him sigh and rest his cheek against the top of my head. The hand on my behind gently strokes and squeezes, and I feel a lovely stinging in my eyes as he, without the aid of passion and through affection only, kisses the top of my head.
That is how we awoke, in that exact position, and this time, I do not feign sleep. But the time comes when he needs to depart for his early morning duties. For myself, I do not yet need to stir, for my duties lie within my office, only a short walk away, and not on the boarders of our land.
I watch him with a grin, as he uses my bathroom to splash water on his face. And I chuckle as he slowly opens one of my drawers, checking to see if I watch as he retrieves one of his hair grips. He grins sheepishly then as he thinks himself found out, but smiles as I simply wink at him in silent agreement and permission.
He walks towards the bed where I still lay watching, and kisses my brow, before turning and heading towards the door. He pauses though, and looks back at me. He licks his bottom lip and, turning, walks towards the bed. I simply watch, still reclined and with mild amusement, as he sits perched upon the side of the mattress.
He pulls a tie loose from one of his braids, before reaching down to draw a small dagger from his boot. I raise a brow in question, and that is all. I do not fear him, and do not even go as far as to cover my naked form.
His eyes flicker unsurely to my own, and I find it hard not to chuckle as I think of how mysterious I once thought this elf. He still holds knowledge that no other does, this much I know, but he is no mystery to me, not anymore, he is…lovely. Tender and dominating all at once. And I especially love the fact that I am the only one who knows him as anything but a mystery.
He reaches for a dark spiral of my hair, and gently caresses it. He takes his small tie and wraps it around the end of the lock, about three inches from the tip. He holds his dagger and looks to me for permission, which he receives as a completely calm and accepting smile, before carefully severing the lock.
He looks from me to the lock in his hand, places the lock in the inside of his tunic, and then gently lays his hand over it from the outside. He reaches out then and gently touches my cheek, and I send him wide eyed as I purr in a downright feline manner. He grins and leans down to kiss my brow once more, but pauses, and presses our lips together instead.
I hum sweetly into the kiss and his lips curve into a smile against mine. He pulls himself away from my naked and enticing form with some difficulty, and I chuckle aloud at this. He stands then, and speaks to me for the first time, ever, in the morning hour.
“I will see you tonight, Erestor.” he whispers.
And I reply, “Tonight, Glorfindel.”
And finally, he leaves for his duties. I immediately roll onto my back and cover my wide smile with my hand. We are lovers.
I walk the rest of the day with a light step, because he is the bravest and mightiest. He is the most gentle and passionate.
And he comes to me.
He stays with me.
The End.
__________________________________________________