Fic: Shared intimacy. Slash. Nc-17. Boromir/Faramir
Title: Shared Intimacy
Author: Gilraen
Rating: Nc-17
Pairing: Boromir/Faramir
Warnings: Slash fic. Male/Male sexual relationship. If this thing bothers you, don't read it.
Summary: Faramir's been severely wounded. Boromir'll do his best to heal his little brother.
Archieved:
ithilien_night
Gilraen's Fanfictions Page
The faint light provided by the candles was enough for him to read one of his favorite books. The ancient volume was in fact laying on his knees, and the young man turned its pages almost reverentially. His fingertips brushed against the scraggy paper as he relished the feeling he loved about this kind of books. It was in fact awesome to have in his hands something so ancient and precious as this, the ordered calligraphy narrating elvish tales which always managed to enthrall him.
Heavy footsteps coming from the corridor distracted him, and a devilish smile appeared on his face when he hurriedly settled the book on the nightstand. Dragging the covers up and pretending to be asleep.
Holding the tray with one hand, Boromir opened his brother's door slowly, trying not to wake him up. He was still worried about him. And how could he not after what happened?
The soft rugs spread across the floor muffled his steps as he settled his burden on the table, closing the door right after. Afraid that his little brother could catch a bad cold. The air had been quite chilly lately.
Then he walked to the bed, his lips curving in a sweet smile almost of their own will as he drank in the sight of his sleeping brother. Beaming in the beauty of his youth. Golden hair scattered over the pillow and his luscious lips slightly parted and wet.
When one of his rangers had taken Faramir home, Boromir had felt as if someone had squeezed his heart in an iron grip. Unrecognizable. Almost impossible to understand that the man whose face and clothes were covered in mud and blood was really the Lord Faramir. They were outnumbered, and even if they had fought hard, his men had understood that the only thing to do was to retreat. Their Captain had tried to save the youngest, who had been wounded to a leg, and couldn't walk. Apparently one of the fool creatures had jumped on him, hitting him hard on his head and crushing Faramir with his weight. Seeing that their Lord was in danger, the rangers had returned, managing to drag him to the palace.
Too often soldiers who had suffered blows in the head had woken up without even remembering their name. Or worse. What if Faramir's brain had been damaged? The mere thought had Boromir shivering. He was scared. Since he could remember, he had never been scared about his death. It was something he had accepted a long time ago. The idea of dying for Gondor wasn't bad at all. But since his mother had laid in his arms the little, rosy bundle called Faramir, he had sworn to protect him with his life. The sight of him in that huge bed, his head wrapped in soft bandages and the whiteness of his skin contrasting with the dark marks circling his eyes, made his heart flinch. He had to grit his teeth and impose himself to be strong for Faramir.
Now his little brother was fine. His cheeks were rosy again, and the wound on his head was completely healed. Yet Boromir didn't want him to stand up. Of all things, he couldn't bear the thought of Faramir scouting the woods so soon. Not after what had happened. They had argued often about that. But he knew the young scoundrel too well and was always able to silence him.
"You're beautiful, Faramir" he murmured softly, sitting on the bed at his side and brushing aside a lock of mutinous hair from his forehead. "I can still remember when you were but a child, who came to watch my fencing lessons. Then you walked along the long corridors with that little wooden sword, fighting against imaginary enemies. Trying to repeat my gestures. You were so brave, and I already knew that you were going to be a good warrior."
Sighing softly, Boromir started to play with the hem of his tunic, lost in his thoughts. Without noticing that the little rascal was struggling to avoid grinning openly, and had half opened his eyes to look at him. Of course his face became straight as soon as his older brother turned his head to check on him.
"One day I returned home after... three years and I saw this superb young man looking at me. His blue eyes filled with adoration for his hero. I never told you but I think I started to love you in a much deeper way since then. It was not brotherly love anymore, but I couldn't taint you. And I could never do such a thing, for you were way too perfect--"
"Ah! Then you're admitting that, at last!" Faramir said then, a triumphal smile on his face as he looked straight in his eyes. "I've always been perfect and you've been loving me from afar!"
An outraged _expression appeared on Boromir's face upon seeing that his little brother had been fooling him. But he was never able to be mad at him, especially now after all they'd been through. And he took his vengeance in the only way he knew. By tickling him to death.
"You little rascal!" he hissed, blocking his wrists with one hand and mercilessly tickling his sides with the other. "I should spank you for what you did!"
Laughing hard at such treatment, Faramir tried to free himself, wriggling and quivering under Boromir's body, now almost completely sprawled on him.
Then, as soon as it had started, Boromir's hand stopped, even if he didn't release his wrists. And when the youngest man glanced curiously at him, he found a pair of fair, noble eyes staring straight at him.
"It's beautiful to see you laughing again" were his words, followed by a soft smile and a quick peck on his neck. "The healer gave me some massage oil, she said it'd do you good. It should tone up your muscles".
A brief nod and a smile was all he obtained from Faramir as he stood up to take the half empty vial they had given him. Boromir, in fact, didn't know that his little brother had been walking around in his rooms when he was alone, no matter if this thing had been forbidden to him. To Faramir, nothing was worse than being forced to stay in his bed. However the thought of Boromir massaging tepid oil onto his body was enough for Faramir to keep a straight face, and he hurriedly undressed himself while his brother was warming the liquid.
"It should--" Boromir started as he walked back to the bed, breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of his beautiful brother completely naked. His strong body sprawled onto the soft sheets and a grin curving his full lips. A shiver ran up on his spine at the sight, hunger gnawing at his very guts as he shifted his gaze to his brother's hips. His impossibly thick shaft already standing erect and proud.
Licking his lips, Boromir cleared his throat even if there was no need to, and he resumed his walking. Spreading some oil on his palms and rubbing them together before to sit at the bottom of the bed. If Faramir wanted to play, Boromir was willing to satisfy him. After all, it had been months since the last time they had the chance to make love. Yet he was still thinking about the devilish trick he had used with him, and he wasn't going to make it easy. All he wanted was to have a panting and sweaty Faramir underneath him, begging for him to show some mercy and allow his release. A devilish grin appeared on his face at such thought, and he found himself already painfully hard by now. His leggings way too tight and uncomfortable.
Faramir's eyes were eagerly following his every move. He knew his brother and lover too well and he wasn't easily fooled. Boromir's hunger was glaring, yet he didn't want it to be over soon. His shaft twitched and he let out a loud groan as soon as he felt his hands spreading tepid oil on his feet. Carefully taking care of his toes. Caressing each and every one with slippery fingers. Massaging his soles with his large hands. It was so relaxing, so incredibly erotic, that soon Faramir had to close his eyes.
A grinning Boromir was in the meanwhile utterly focused on his task. Teasing, massaging, raking white paths with his short nails on the tanned skin. Taking care of his ankles, his calves, until he reached the back of his knees. Softly caressing them, knowing it was one of the most sensitive areas on his brother's body. He didn't want him to burst into a fit of laughter. Not now, because he was already holding back with a great effort. He wanted, needed to make love to Faramir. His brain was screaming and begging for him to bury himself in his body. But he couldn't do it, not yet. All that teasing was going to lead them to peaks of pleasure they'd never reached before.
It was just when he reached his upper thighs that Boromir finally raised his eyes to meet blue and glittering ones. And he actually grinned openly as he saw the little rascal's parted lips and heavy breathing.
"Naughty Faramir..." he murmured, before to shift his attention to his upper thighs. Feeling his muscles twitch under his fingers. Knowing all too well that his little brother was holding back with great effort. Each and every time his fingers neared the thick erection, Boromir retreated them. Lingering to tease the inside of his thighs. Massaging the strong body with reverence. He was truly a beauty, and a gift from the Valars themselves.
"Please Boromir I-I--" was Faramir's heated plea, as one of his hands finally reached to stroke the nape of his brother's neck. Affectionately and tenderly, without trying to push him down. He just needed this contact as he was already burning with desire. Even if he had been aching for him for a long time, Boromir had refused to make love to him, sustaining that he was still too weak and he didn't want to hurt him. Now that it was happening again, he was scared that he could have left him unfulfilled again.
Grey eyes fluttered open at his words, showing a thousand of different emotions. Something that he cared to show just to his little brother. No one else had ever seen that mixture of lust, joy, happiness and hunger. He had missed him, indeed. Not just because of the sexual contact. It was not the only thing he loved about their relationship. Boromir had missed the closeness. That closeness.
Finally decided that he had enough, the eldest started to kiss and nibble his way from his belly to his nipples, his hands following his exploration and still spreading oil on the heated skin. As soon as he reached one of the brown jewels, Boromir circled it with the tip of his tongue, teasing the other one with two fingers. Pinching and massaging mercilessly. Soon, light bites followed, eliciting a much louder groan from above. Growling softly against his skin, he found his way to his shoulders and neck. Kissing. Nibbling. Worshipping each and every inch of that glorious body he had missed so much.
That teasing was driving Faramir insane, and soon he dragged Boromir's head up, pushing him down towards his face. Mouths colliding and teeth clashing. Knowing that this gesture was enough to make him understand that he was craving for him, and that he didn't want him to restrain himself.
Soon, too soon, the elder one broke the kiss. The devilish grin on his face again. No, he wasn't going to make it that easy.
"Turn yourself, I need to massage your back, too..." he said, taking the little vial again and spreading some more of the perfumed oil on his hands. Slowly rubbing them together to warm the liquid. His eyes following each and everyone of Faramir's movements until he found himself staring at that perfect backside of his. Nervously licking his lips.
Starting again from his calves, Boromir massaged his brother's body, moving his hands from the bottom towards the heart. Kneading sensually the muscles flickering under his callused fingers. As soon as he'd finished with his legs, he shifted his attentions to the other's broad shoulders. Lowering his mouth on Faramir's neck to nip and suck at the tender skin. Relishing his soft sighs and moans.
"Boromir..." was the whispered plea this time, as the younger started to tremble, exposing his neck further. Already flushed and panting heavily. To him, all that teasing was pure torture. In the meantime, his brother had somehow managed to undress himself. Hastily and hurriedly, craving to feel the hot flesh under his fingers again. His erection now screaming for release. And he actually hissed as soon as he started to rub it against Faramir's enticing backside.
"I think I should massage this oil properly now..." he growled against his brother's ear, catching his earlobe in between his lips and giving a light nip before to take the vial again.
This time he poured some oil on the cleft, grinning when he felt him jolt and spread his legs further to grant him a better access. Yet he didn't avert his eyes from the droplet of thick liquid slowly descending towards Faramir's opening. Reaching to spread it on the tight ring of flesh. Circling it with lazy strokes. Grasping his brother's erection with his other hand, even if he knew all too well that he wasn't going to complain anyway. Not even when he slipped a finger halfway inside. Spreading. Teasing. Conquering.
He was painfully hard by now, and he knew that he needed to be in. Boldly, Faramir pushed back against his hand, taking the entire finger in. Clearly eager to feel his brother inside of him.
"Enough teasing for one day..." Boromir growled after his finger had thrust into Faramir a couple of times before to retreat. Said hand then carefully spread the moisture on his cock, until it was glistening and slippery.
"What are you waiting for, then?" Faramir answered in a mocking tone, as if to playfully challenge his sibling. He had not even finished his question that his brother had buried himself in him in one go. Without a word. Having him cry out loudly in his pillow to avoid letting the whole palace know of what was happening.
"Don't ever challenge me, little one..." was Boromir's heated growl as he urged Faramir to balance his weight on his knees. His face still buried in his pillow. Then he started to pound madly into him. Over and over again. Need taking over reason. Slamming in his brother as hard as he could, barely hearing the soft cries and moans coming from above. They both could feel the power of their need. Desperate was the only word to describe it.
A tiny sound of displeasure escaped Faramir's lips when he retreated, his body already missing his weight. His whole being screaming at the loss because his hunger hadn't been fulfilled. Yet he had not even the time to ask what was happening, because Boromir was tugging at his shoulder, urging him to lay flat on his back. The grin on his face softening as he looked in those blue eyes.
"I want to look at you while we're making love" were his whispered words, as he laid on the top of the younger man, entering him again. Slowly and tenderly this time. Smiling when the sibling wrapped his muscled legs around his waist, trapping him. Sharing an incredible intimacy that always shook them to the core. Faramir was the only one allowed to slip past his defenses. The only one who knew who Boromir was for real. The only one allowed to challenge him. His sunbeam breaking through the clouds.
Their kiss was way more soft and sweet this time, as the eldest started to move in and out his brother. Relishing just the heat of their bodies and tanned skin brushing against tanned skin. It was pure bliss to Boromir, who always craved to be with his little brother, as he usually felt in a protective cocoon whenever with him. During those moments, they closed the world outside, and there was room just for the two of them loving and cherishing each other.
Some minutes later, a quite impatient Faramir started to spur his brother by pushing his calves in his buttocks just as you do with a stallion to urge him to go faster. And faster he went, immediately getting the hint. Not before he had hooked Faramir's knees with his arms, shifting his position to penetrate deeper, just to be sure to hit the blissful spot inside of him over and over again. Silencing their cries of passion with heated kisses.
Then it was just heat, spreading from his belly and enveloping his body. For some seconds Boromir couldn't hear. He couldn't breath and couldn't see. His whole being has been caught in a rapturous orgasm, which triggered his brother's. For some reason Faramir in fact loved to watch his brother's face as he came. This sight alone was enough to have him undone.
Boromir's arms wrapped around his brother, and he nuzzled his neck in a tender way. The best part of it all was when they shared the sweet afterglow of their frantic lovemaking. It was good to just be himself, knowing that Faramir could never judge him. As he felt him sigh contentedly and hug him tight, Boromir smiled against his brother's heated skin.
"I love you" he whispered softly, closing his eyes.
"I love you, too" was Faramir's answer, as his hands started to caress the nape of Boromir's neck. Looking down to enjoy the flickering light coming from the candles playing on his gorgeous body. Valar, Boromir was really the handsomest man he'd ever seen. Then his eyes fell on the half empty vial on the nightstand, and a devilish grin took over his features.
"We should thank the healer for her oil. I feel much better now..."
A light chuckle, followed by a not to gentle bite on his neck, erupted from Boromir, who then neared his earlobe. Teasingly whispering naughty things to his brother. He was ready to start it all over again, and one thing he was sure of. Faramir wasn't going to complain.
Author: Gilraen
Rating: Nc-17
Pairing: Boromir/Faramir
Warnings: Slash fic. Male/Male sexual relationship. If this thing bothers you, don't read it.
Summary: Faramir's been severely wounded. Boromir'll do his best to heal his little brother.
Archieved:
ithilien_night
Gilraen's Fanfictions Page
The faint light provided by the candles was enough for him to read one of his favorite books. The ancient volume was in fact laying on his knees, and the young man turned its pages almost reverentially. His fingertips brushed against the scraggy paper as he relished the feeling he loved about this kind of books. It was in fact awesome to have in his hands something so ancient and precious as this, the ordered calligraphy narrating elvish tales which always managed to enthrall him.
Heavy footsteps coming from the corridor distracted him, and a devilish smile appeared on his face when he hurriedly settled the book on the nightstand. Dragging the covers up and pretending to be asleep.
Holding the tray with one hand, Boromir opened his brother's door slowly, trying not to wake him up. He was still worried about him. And how could he not after what happened?
The soft rugs spread across the floor muffled his steps as he settled his burden on the table, closing the door right after. Afraid that his little brother could catch a bad cold. The air had been quite chilly lately.
Then he walked to the bed, his lips curving in a sweet smile almost of their own will as he drank in the sight of his sleeping brother. Beaming in the beauty of his youth. Golden hair scattered over the pillow and his luscious lips slightly parted and wet.
When one of his rangers had taken Faramir home, Boromir had felt as if someone had squeezed his heart in an iron grip. Unrecognizable. Almost impossible to understand that the man whose face and clothes were covered in mud and blood was really the Lord Faramir. They were outnumbered, and even if they had fought hard, his men had understood that the only thing to do was to retreat. Their Captain had tried to save the youngest, who had been wounded to a leg, and couldn't walk. Apparently one of the fool creatures had jumped on him, hitting him hard on his head and crushing Faramir with his weight. Seeing that their Lord was in danger, the rangers had returned, managing to drag him to the palace.
Too often soldiers who had suffered blows in the head had woken up without even remembering their name. Or worse. What if Faramir's brain had been damaged? The mere thought had Boromir shivering. He was scared. Since he could remember, he had never been scared about his death. It was something he had accepted a long time ago. The idea of dying for Gondor wasn't bad at all. But since his mother had laid in his arms the little, rosy bundle called Faramir, he had sworn to protect him with his life. The sight of him in that huge bed, his head wrapped in soft bandages and the whiteness of his skin contrasting with the dark marks circling his eyes, made his heart flinch. He had to grit his teeth and impose himself to be strong for Faramir.
Now his little brother was fine. His cheeks were rosy again, and the wound on his head was completely healed. Yet Boromir didn't want him to stand up. Of all things, he couldn't bear the thought of Faramir scouting the woods so soon. Not after what had happened. They had argued often about that. But he knew the young scoundrel too well and was always able to silence him.
"You're beautiful, Faramir" he murmured softly, sitting on the bed at his side and brushing aside a lock of mutinous hair from his forehead. "I can still remember when you were but a child, who came to watch my fencing lessons. Then you walked along the long corridors with that little wooden sword, fighting against imaginary enemies. Trying to repeat my gestures. You were so brave, and I already knew that you were going to be a good warrior."
Sighing softly, Boromir started to play with the hem of his tunic, lost in his thoughts. Without noticing that the little rascal was struggling to avoid grinning openly, and had half opened his eyes to look at him. Of course his face became straight as soon as his older brother turned his head to check on him.
"One day I returned home after... three years and I saw this superb young man looking at me. His blue eyes filled with adoration for his hero. I never told you but I think I started to love you in a much deeper way since then. It was not brotherly love anymore, but I couldn't taint you. And I could never do such a thing, for you were way too perfect--"
"Ah! Then you're admitting that, at last!" Faramir said then, a triumphal smile on his face as he looked straight in his eyes. "I've always been perfect and you've been loving me from afar!"
An outraged _expression appeared on Boromir's face upon seeing that his little brother had been fooling him. But he was never able to be mad at him, especially now after all they'd been through. And he took his vengeance in the only way he knew. By tickling him to death.
"You little rascal!" he hissed, blocking his wrists with one hand and mercilessly tickling his sides with the other. "I should spank you for what you did!"
Laughing hard at such treatment, Faramir tried to free himself, wriggling and quivering under Boromir's body, now almost completely sprawled on him.
Then, as soon as it had started, Boromir's hand stopped, even if he didn't release his wrists. And when the youngest man glanced curiously at him, he found a pair of fair, noble eyes staring straight at him.
"It's beautiful to see you laughing again" were his words, followed by a soft smile and a quick peck on his neck. "The healer gave me some massage oil, she said it'd do you good. It should tone up your muscles".
A brief nod and a smile was all he obtained from Faramir as he stood up to take the half empty vial they had given him. Boromir, in fact, didn't know that his little brother had been walking around in his rooms when he was alone, no matter if this thing had been forbidden to him. To Faramir, nothing was worse than being forced to stay in his bed. However the thought of Boromir massaging tepid oil onto his body was enough for Faramir to keep a straight face, and he hurriedly undressed himself while his brother was warming the liquid.
"It should--" Boromir started as he walked back to the bed, breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of his beautiful brother completely naked. His strong body sprawled onto the soft sheets and a grin curving his full lips. A shiver ran up on his spine at the sight, hunger gnawing at his very guts as he shifted his gaze to his brother's hips. His impossibly thick shaft already standing erect and proud.
Licking his lips, Boromir cleared his throat even if there was no need to, and he resumed his walking. Spreading some oil on his palms and rubbing them together before to sit at the bottom of the bed. If Faramir wanted to play, Boromir was willing to satisfy him. After all, it had been months since the last time they had the chance to make love. Yet he was still thinking about the devilish trick he had used with him, and he wasn't going to make it easy. All he wanted was to have a panting and sweaty Faramir underneath him, begging for him to show some mercy and allow his release. A devilish grin appeared on his face at such thought, and he found himself already painfully hard by now. His leggings way too tight and uncomfortable.
Faramir's eyes were eagerly following his every move. He knew his brother and lover too well and he wasn't easily fooled. Boromir's hunger was glaring, yet he didn't want it to be over soon. His shaft twitched and he let out a loud groan as soon as he felt his hands spreading tepid oil on his feet. Carefully taking care of his toes. Caressing each and every one with slippery fingers. Massaging his soles with his large hands. It was so relaxing, so incredibly erotic, that soon Faramir had to close his eyes.
A grinning Boromir was in the meanwhile utterly focused on his task. Teasing, massaging, raking white paths with his short nails on the tanned skin. Taking care of his ankles, his calves, until he reached the back of his knees. Softly caressing them, knowing it was one of the most sensitive areas on his brother's body. He didn't want him to burst into a fit of laughter. Not now, because he was already holding back with a great effort. He wanted, needed to make love to Faramir. His brain was screaming and begging for him to bury himself in his body. But he couldn't do it, not yet. All that teasing was going to lead them to peaks of pleasure they'd never reached before.
It was just when he reached his upper thighs that Boromir finally raised his eyes to meet blue and glittering ones. And he actually grinned openly as he saw the little rascal's parted lips and heavy breathing.
"Naughty Faramir..." he murmured, before to shift his attention to his upper thighs. Feeling his muscles twitch under his fingers. Knowing all too well that his little brother was holding back with great effort. Each and every time his fingers neared the thick erection, Boromir retreated them. Lingering to tease the inside of his thighs. Massaging the strong body with reverence. He was truly a beauty, and a gift from the Valars themselves.
"Please Boromir I-I--" was Faramir's heated plea, as one of his hands finally reached to stroke the nape of his brother's neck. Affectionately and tenderly, without trying to push him down. He just needed this contact as he was already burning with desire. Even if he had been aching for him for a long time, Boromir had refused to make love to him, sustaining that he was still too weak and he didn't want to hurt him. Now that it was happening again, he was scared that he could have left him unfulfilled again.
Grey eyes fluttered open at his words, showing a thousand of different emotions. Something that he cared to show just to his little brother. No one else had ever seen that mixture of lust, joy, happiness and hunger. He had missed him, indeed. Not just because of the sexual contact. It was not the only thing he loved about their relationship. Boromir had missed the closeness. That closeness.
Finally decided that he had enough, the eldest started to kiss and nibble his way from his belly to his nipples, his hands following his exploration and still spreading oil on the heated skin. As soon as he reached one of the brown jewels, Boromir circled it with the tip of his tongue, teasing the other one with two fingers. Pinching and massaging mercilessly. Soon, light bites followed, eliciting a much louder groan from above. Growling softly against his skin, he found his way to his shoulders and neck. Kissing. Nibbling. Worshipping each and every inch of that glorious body he had missed so much.
That teasing was driving Faramir insane, and soon he dragged Boromir's head up, pushing him down towards his face. Mouths colliding and teeth clashing. Knowing that this gesture was enough to make him understand that he was craving for him, and that he didn't want him to restrain himself.
Soon, too soon, the elder one broke the kiss. The devilish grin on his face again. No, he wasn't going to make it that easy.
"Turn yourself, I need to massage your back, too..." he said, taking the little vial again and spreading some more of the perfumed oil on his hands. Slowly rubbing them together to warm the liquid. His eyes following each and everyone of Faramir's movements until he found himself staring at that perfect backside of his. Nervously licking his lips.
Starting again from his calves, Boromir massaged his brother's body, moving his hands from the bottom towards the heart. Kneading sensually the muscles flickering under his callused fingers. As soon as he'd finished with his legs, he shifted his attentions to the other's broad shoulders. Lowering his mouth on Faramir's neck to nip and suck at the tender skin. Relishing his soft sighs and moans.
"Boromir..." was the whispered plea this time, as the younger started to tremble, exposing his neck further. Already flushed and panting heavily. To him, all that teasing was pure torture. In the meantime, his brother had somehow managed to undress himself. Hastily and hurriedly, craving to feel the hot flesh under his fingers again. His erection now screaming for release. And he actually hissed as soon as he started to rub it against Faramir's enticing backside.
"I think I should massage this oil properly now..." he growled against his brother's ear, catching his earlobe in between his lips and giving a light nip before to take the vial again.
This time he poured some oil on the cleft, grinning when he felt him jolt and spread his legs further to grant him a better access. Yet he didn't avert his eyes from the droplet of thick liquid slowly descending towards Faramir's opening. Reaching to spread it on the tight ring of flesh. Circling it with lazy strokes. Grasping his brother's erection with his other hand, even if he knew all too well that he wasn't going to complain anyway. Not even when he slipped a finger halfway inside. Spreading. Teasing. Conquering.
He was painfully hard by now, and he knew that he needed to be in. Boldly, Faramir pushed back against his hand, taking the entire finger in. Clearly eager to feel his brother inside of him.
"Enough teasing for one day..." Boromir growled after his finger had thrust into Faramir a couple of times before to retreat. Said hand then carefully spread the moisture on his cock, until it was glistening and slippery.
"What are you waiting for, then?" Faramir answered in a mocking tone, as if to playfully challenge his sibling. He had not even finished his question that his brother had buried himself in him in one go. Without a word. Having him cry out loudly in his pillow to avoid letting the whole palace know of what was happening.
"Don't ever challenge me, little one..." was Boromir's heated growl as he urged Faramir to balance his weight on his knees. His face still buried in his pillow. Then he started to pound madly into him. Over and over again. Need taking over reason. Slamming in his brother as hard as he could, barely hearing the soft cries and moans coming from above. They both could feel the power of their need. Desperate was the only word to describe it.
A tiny sound of displeasure escaped Faramir's lips when he retreated, his body already missing his weight. His whole being screaming at the loss because his hunger hadn't been fulfilled. Yet he had not even the time to ask what was happening, because Boromir was tugging at his shoulder, urging him to lay flat on his back. The grin on his face softening as he looked in those blue eyes.
"I want to look at you while we're making love" were his whispered words, as he laid on the top of the younger man, entering him again. Slowly and tenderly this time. Smiling when the sibling wrapped his muscled legs around his waist, trapping him. Sharing an incredible intimacy that always shook them to the core. Faramir was the only one allowed to slip past his defenses. The only one who knew who Boromir was for real. The only one allowed to challenge him. His sunbeam breaking through the clouds.
Their kiss was way more soft and sweet this time, as the eldest started to move in and out his brother. Relishing just the heat of their bodies and tanned skin brushing against tanned skin. It was pure bliss to Boromir, who always craved to be with his little brother, as he usually felt in a protective cocoon whenever with him. During those moments, they closed the world outside, and there was room just for the two of them loving and cherishing each other.
Some minutes later, a quite impatient Faramir started to spur his brother by pushing his calves in his buttocks just as you do with a stallion to urge him to go faster. And faster he went, immediately getting the hint. Not before he had hooked Faramir's knees with his arms, shifting his position to penetrate deeper, just to be sure to hit the blissful spot inside of him over and over again. Silencing their cries of passion with heated kisses.
Then it was just heat, spreading from his belly and enveloping his body. For some seconds Boromir couldn't hear. He couldn't breath and couldn't see. His whole being has been caught in a rapturous orgasm, which triggered his brother's. For some reason Faramir in fact loved to watch his brother's face as he came. This sight alone was enough to have him undone.
Boromir's arms wrapped around his brother, and he nuzzled his neck in a tender way. The best part of it all was when they shared the sweet afterglow of their frantic lovemaking. It was good to just be himself, knowing that Faramir could never judge him. As he felt him sigh contentedly and hug him tight, Boromir smiled against his brother's heated skin.
"I love you" he whispered softly, closing his eyes.
"I love you, too" was Faramir's answer, as his hands started to caress the nape of Boromir's neck. Looking down to enjoy the flickering light coming from the candles playing on his gorgeous body. Valar, Boromir was really the handsomest man he'd ever seen. Then his eyes fell on the half empty vial on the nightstand, and a devilish grin took over his features.
"We should thank the healer for her oil. I feel much better now..."
A light chuckle, followed by a not to gentle bite on his neck, erupted from Boromir, who then neared his earlobe. Teasingly whispering naughty things to his brother. He was ready to start it all over again, and one thing he was sure of. Faramir wasn't going to complain.