Different | By : Lauand Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1787 -:- Recommendations : 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. |
Erestor stared as though transfixed
at Fin’s wide, generous mouth. He reached out hesitantly to touch the soft,
promising lips. Without averting his eyes from the utter softness that his
fingers caressed, he whispered a question. “May I kiss you?”
If Glorfindel hadn’t been so entranced by the magic of the moment, he would
have chuckled. After all that they had already done together, asking for a kiss
was nearly preposterous. But he was oddly touched by the vulnerability that
such a simple question implied, so he just stood there, immobile, allowing the
other elf’s fingers to slowly follow their meandering path. Letting Erestor
touch him. Conscious of the fact that he hadn’t delivered an answer yet, he
breathed against the delicate digits, “You may.”
There was a terrible
self-consciousness about asking for a kiss and being granted permission. No
spontaneous soaring of passion, no instinct to drive your actions, no lack of
time or thought, just the same feeling of inevitability and a bigger dose of
anticipation. It was quite awkward as Erestor tore his eyes from the blond’s
perfect, sinful mouth and raised them unsteadily to his eyes, so shining, so
full of unreadable messages and secret feelings, so blue… Erestor gulped and,
as though of its own volition, his look fell again to the slightly parted lips.
He had asked; now he had to make the first move.
Slowly, fighting the thought that
this was a stupid idea, he began moving his face toward Fin’s. The
premeditation of this made him especially aware of the other’s body heat, of
the shallowness of their breaths, of the strange insecurity. Too much time to
think, that was the problem. But he refused to rush this moment, to sacrifice
this self-consciousness, to give up control.
Soon, he got too close to keep his
eyes open without crossing them, so he let his lashes flutter closed. He didn’t
know if Glorfindel had done the same or not. Now, not only could he hear his
respiration, he could also feel Fin’s warm breath against his lips, sure that
his own breath, not any deeper than the seneschal’s, should be grazing the
other’s skin as well.
Glorfindel clenched his hands and
fought to keep immobile. It was damned difficult for him not to snap and take
sudden control, to take Erestor’s warm body against his, crush him in his arms
and kiss him senseless, letting free his passion and his need for the other
elf. But Erestor had asked and he had consented, so he tried to stay sane,
calm, and still, and wait for the damned thing to finally happen.
Oblivious to Glorfindel’s distress,
Erestor kept closing the distance slowly, aware of Fin’s quickened breathing
but not knowing the real extent of his inner battle to not whimper or
move.
Erestor’s closeness was maddening, and the torturing slowness of
his approach was arousing him to a painful hardness. He just hoped that the
dark haired counsellor had some additional activity besides kissing in mind.
Then it came. The hesitant brush of
lips against lips. A glimpse of Heaven. Glorfindel responded to the first touch
but refrained himself with effort from deepening or rushing the kiss. Their
lips moved slowly, nibbling softly, grazing, parting, waiting…
Lost in the innocent sensuality of
the kiss, Erestor couldn’t know how hard it was for Glorfindel to wait for the
next level, to remain still and not to touch, to bite, to grope, to press, to
thrust, to quench the thirst, the hunger, and the need.
Blissfully unaware, Erestor began to
use his tongue. Just a lick there, then more nibbling, grazing, nibbling, lick,
and then he paused when, as by accident, his tongue met Glorfindel’s. Just a
brush of their tips, but the feeling was unmistakable. Breathing heavier and
heavier against each other’s mouths, they stood, in contact only through the
slightest touch of their lips.
Ready to moan, to beg, to scream or
to crawl for it, Glorfindel waited at the end of his rope for Erestor to resume
the kiss. When the advisor felt himself again in some measure of control, he
started the kiss anew, at first grazing, then with soft nibbling and finally
the occasional touches of his tongue.
Praying to all the Valar for Erestor
to deepen the kiss, Glorfindel mimicked the dark-haired elf’s actions and held
himself back from entering that sweet mouth. He tried to give Erestor hints,
though, trying to catch that elusive tongue between his lips and inviting it
inside, pressing harder against Erestor’s mouth and quickening the movements of
his lips. After what Glorfindel felt to be millennia, Erestor withdrew and Fin
whimpered. ‘No, no, please, no, do not end it here, please, PLEASE!’ he
thought.
“Erestor…” he breathed.
Even with his eyes closed, he could
feel Erestor’s gaze upon him. What he was thinking, though, was a mystery to
Fin, just as he knew his thoughts to be unknown to the dark haired elf. Why was
the advisor doing this? Was he punishing him for something? Was he just cruel
and enjoying making him suffer? Couldn’t he see what he was making him feel?
Trying to keep his breathing under
control but failing, he searched for an answer. No, he knew the counsellor was
not cruel, and wasn’t one for punishing or vengeance. He was quite sure,
though, that Erestor knew exactly how Glorfindel lusted after him, how he
needed him, how he ached for him, so why, oh, why was he doing this?
With his eyes closed as they were,
he couldn’t see the undecipherable look that Erestor gave him. Not that he
would have understood it.
Still panting, Erestor stifled the
urge to sigh. He could see that Fin was restraining himself, enduring what for
the seneschal had to be torture just because Erestor had asked. And Fin was an
honourable elf. Deep inside, Erestor wished that the honour wasn’t the reason,
that what kept Glorfindel from jumping him was not just his noble nature,
but his feelings for him…
Erestor felt like crying. They were so different, they searched for such
opposite goals… their aches were in such different locations… Glorfindel’s in
his loins, he knew. Fin was too honest to honey his wants with sweet words. He
had never lied to him. Ever. But he would never ask for what Erestor wanted so
desperately to give him, and seneschal or not, he was too dumb to realize what
Erestor was really offering every time he stripped for him. Or maybe not dumb,
just different. Different longings, different needs…
Erestor leaned near him again; Fin
could feel it even with his eyes still closed.
Even with the poor light in the
room, the advisor could see that Glorfindel was beautiful. At least in his
eyes. The most handsome creature in Arda. And the blindest.
He remembered Fin’s plea, for that
was what it had been when he had breathed his name after Erestor drew away. The
counsellor then uttered his, so alike in form but so different in his meaning.
“Glorfindel...” he breathed.
Near as he was, he observed how the
seneschal shivered at feeling him close, at hearing his name from Erestor’s
lips, and the advisor noticed again his ragged breathing and tight-shut eyes,
his clenched fists and forced calm. Faked calm. The calm that preceded the
storm.
He was fighting so hard… Erestor
knew then. He was holding back and waiting for the dark haired elf to act. Maybe,
just maybe, that was a sign of love, too. Erestor shut his eyes tight and
ground his teeth together at the futility of that self-deception.
He tried to convince himself that it
didn’t matter to him, not anymore. He had made his choice the first time that
Glorfindel had searched for his body and he renewed it again every time they
bedded each other. Better to have little than nothing at all.
Artfully concealing his feelings
behind a familiar mask of hollow smiles and old lies, he laced his arms around
Glorfindel’s neck.
Not expecting it, the blond
seneschal opened his eyes and saw no more than what Erestor wanted him to see.
A seductive and willing elf. Swallowing with some difficulty, the large warrior
asked softly, “May I?”
“You may.”
Glorfindel’s kiss was everything
that Erestor wasn’t. It was rushed, desperate, hot, wet, urgent. Lips, tongue
and hands everywhere; tasting, devouring, grabbing. Erestor let himself get
swept away by Glorfindel’s passion, kissing back, holding the broad shoulders and
strong neck, feeling the large hands touching his body and the blond’s hard
arousal pressing against his. Then, the seneschal lifted him in his arms and
carried him to the bed.
One thing that Erestor could never
deny was that even in the midst of the most urgent passion and needful despair,
Fin always prepared him well. No matter how rushed the moment or situation, the
blond could forsake the foreplay, the removing of their clothes or even the
kissing, but he always made sure that he didn’t hurt Erestor. At least
physically.
Once Fin was in position and ready
to thrust into him, Erestor couldn’t help it. He had sworn to himself that he
wouldn’t ruin everything by giving away the slightest hint that might allow
Glorfindel to learn of his true feelings toward him, but the words were burning
in his chest and he had to let them out. “I’ll let you take my body if you let
me take your heart.”
Oblivious to anything except the
warm, pliant body beneath him, Glorfindel pushed forward and entered the dark
haired elf. Not that Erestor had expected an answer, anyway.
They didn’t last long. Thrust after
thrust, stroke after stroke, they both moved together in the most ancient dance
in the world, and together they fell into that wonderful place beyond pleasure.
It was not until much later, when
Erestor was already asleep and Glorfindel was drifting towards reverie,too that
the seneschal remembered the dark haired elf’s odd words. Frowning slightly but
not puzzled enough to wake him and ask, he murmured to the sleeping counsellor:
“You already have it, you silly
elf.”
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