http://just-jenni.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
just-jenni.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
b2mem2013-04-07 06:35 pm
just-jenni.livejournal.com) wrote in b2mem2013-04-07 06:35 pm
love is a risky business by just_jenni
B2MeM Challenge: Prompt: Friendship
Format: Short Story
Genre: Romance
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Graphic descriptions, Slash
Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Feanor,
Pairings: Maedhros/Fingon
Summary: Maedhros and Fingon continue to find risky ways to spend time together.
Waiting for Friday night to arrive was agony for Maedhros. Doing his regular work was uncomfortable with other people there because he felt he had a perpetual erection. Every time he thought of Fingon, which was almost always, he felt himself getting hard. He dressed in voluminous robes to hide it, earning glances of annoyed curiosity from his father, who complained that his oldest son was adding to his list of peculiarities by dressing like a member of some fanatical religious order.
Ever since he had felt Fingon’s lips on him his whole body burned as if on glorious fire, his nerve endings tingled, his mind was unable to concentrate on anything but his cousin. It was worse when he was alone in his room or with Feanor going over his lessons because he could not focus on anything other than Fingon’s gorgeous face, full lips and lithe body and what they had shared. He moaned, rubbing himself under his desk and climaxed more than once inside his leggings, but could not completely satisfy himself. He needed contact with his lover. He felt he could not wait until Friday.
The cousins were trying to avoid each other during their week of waiting but it was difficult because Fingolfin insisted on sending Fingon to Feanor to study silversmithing on the second day after the cousins had been intimate with each other. Nerdanel had invited Fingon to stay for supper, he accepted and he and Maedhros found themselves sitting opposite each other at the dinner table, surrounded by Maedhros’ younger brothers and with Feanor and Nerdanel at either end of the table.
Trying to avoid each other’s glances was almost impossible despite the annoying interruptions from Maedhros’ younger siblings and each of them was afraid they’d give themselves away with a smoldering glance or flushed face. It would have been odd for them not to speak to each other, so each forced himself to do so without giving any hint of the pent-up lust that both felt. It was agony despite the distraction of the occasional banter with one of the younger elves. The meal seemed to last an intolerably long time and as soon as he could, Maedhros excused himself to return to his father’s smithy in order to complete some unfinished work.
When he reached the jewel-smiths’ workroom it was dark and he lit a few candles. Maedhros busied himself with tidying shelves and while in the process of putting away some stray tools he heard a voice behind him.
“Can I help you do that?” The clear voice was unmistakable.
“Findekano.” Maedhros turned to face his cousin.
Fingon quietly shut the door behind him and bolted it. Stepping toward Maedhros he exclaimed, “I cannot wait until Friday.”
Maedhros stood feeling helpless, his desire growing in his loins, but fear of his father possibly finding them out crept over him. In one hand he held a lit candle, in the other a silver hammer. “It has been agony not being with you for one day,” he replied. “How will we last the next five?”
“I feel I must have you now,” Fingon took a purposeful stride toward his cousin. “At least a taste of you.”
“But we cannot do anything in here!” Maedhros exclaimed.
“We can. I’ve locked the door. No one can get in. They shouldn’t even try. They will think we are working on something together.”
“But how can we…?” Maedhros began to ask.
Fingon stopped when there was an inch of space between them and looked up at his taller cousin. His eyes glinted with fierce passion in the candlelight. “There is a table behind you,” he said. “Lie down on it.”
Maedhros turned to look at the rough, splintery work table, covered with engraving tools, dust, polishing cloths, bits of leftover flux and other metalworking detritus. When he turned back to protest, he felt Fingon pressing himself against his body, arms thrown around his waist. Planting kisses upon his cousin’s neck with eager lips, Fingon did not wait for Maedhros to put down the candle and hammer. His hands were still full when Fingon pushed him so that his rump bumped against the table’s edge and with surprising strength, bent him backward onto the table’s surface.
“We cannot,” Maedhros whimpered in feeble protest. Fingon bit down lightly upon Maedhros’ lower lip, his hands roaming beneath the voluminous robe. “What are you wearing?” he laughed.
“No, not here, like this,” Maedhros cried, the candlelight wavering while his trembling hand still held the light source. Fingon’s roaming fingers found evidence of his cousin’s desire between his trembling thighs and stroked it, causing the jeweler’s hammer to fall from Maedhros’ hand and hit the floor with a clang.
Fingon, panting hard, pushed Maedhros flat onto the tabletop. The candle fell out of the holder when Maedhros’ hand smacked against the wooden surface, rolled along the floorboards and snuffed itself out. The two elves found themselves in near darkness.
Maedhros gasped in pain. “There is something sticking into my back,” he cried.
“Aule’s balls!” Fingon swore, stood and taking the candleholder from Maedhros, he soon found another candle and lit it. Turning once again to his cousin, he yanked the taller man off of the table by his collar and with a couple of strokes, swept the table clear of its contents. They scattered along the floor with much clattering and clouds of dust. “Now take off that ridiculous robe!”
“Findekano!” Maedhros, alarmed by Fingon’s near-violent behaviour, cried in protest.
“Enough,” Fingon hissed. “Why are you wearing that thing and why do you act as though you want to resist me? I know you want me and cannot wait until Friday, just as I cannot. I have been mad with lust since yesterday and so have you. Why this pretence, Nelyo? We have discussed our feelings already. There is no point in protesting. No one can see us nor hear us. I want you. I must have you. Lie down on the table!”
Fingon unfastened Maedhros’ robe and pulled it off of him. The red-haired elf was no longer protesting but stood in only his leggings, the front of which bulged with telltale desire. Fingon spread the robe out on the table’s surface and with a smile, pushed Maedhros gently down upon it. “You are proving you want me,” he grinned, placing his hand on the bulge and stroking it.
“Findekano…” Maedhros whispered, staring at his cousin in wonder. “You surprise me. I have never seen you behave like this and here in this light you look years past your age.” He watched in wonder while his cousin divested himself of his clothing. When Fingon stood before him naked, Maedhros was struck by how ravishing he looked, with loose raven hair falling past his shoulders, well-muscled as were his strong arms. His chest muscles were beautifully defined, his belly taut and flat and his arousal impressively straight and strong between well-rounded thighs.
Maedhros gave in to his desire and when Fingon moved to stand between his open thighs, he reached for his cousin’s hair, pulling a handful toward his mouth and kissing it while Fingon leaned down to suck one of his nipples. Letting the strand of hair fall from his hand, Maedhros found Fingon’s back and shoulders, stroking the hard muscles with trembling fingers. He let go of his self-imposed repression and let his fantasies fly. This was what he had been waiting for all day, what he had been thinking about above all else. He would not let his fears stop him any longer from enjoying what he had been craving.
Fingon groaned, his hard shaft pressing impatiently against the soft fabric of Maedhros’ leggings. He undid the laces carefully and slid the garment down his cousin’s thighs, pulling them off and casting them aside. He raised himself onto the table and lay on top of Maedhros, kissing him deeply while their arousals pressed together against their bellies. Fingon released his lips and looked down at his cousin.
“We need to practice doing more things with each other than we have done,” he said.
“Like what?” Maedhros asked, his voice catching in his throat.
Fingon slid off the table and stood on the floor, bending to take Maedhros’ shaft in his hand. Tenderly, he began to kiss and lick while exploring all other tender parts with sensitive fingers.
Maedhros writhed uncontrollably. “Findekano, you will undo me,” he cried.
Fingon raised his head. “Could you do the same to me, as I have done for you? We must both learn how to do these things with each other.”
“What is it like? How does it taste?” Maedhros asked.
“What do you think? It’s lovely. Try it. Touch me…” He grabbed Maedhros’ hand and placed his fingers around his own shaft. “Now stroke it as if it was your own,” he whispered. “Oh, that’s good,” he cried when Maedhros obliged, moving his hand up and down as he was bid. Maedhros held a steady rhythm, making Fingon writhe and moan under his touches. “Oh gods,” Fingon moaned. “Now bend down and put your mouth on the tip of it…”
Maedhros did so. “Ai…blessed be the Valar,” Fingon moaned.
Loose hair from Maedhros’ thick, single braid brushed softly against Fingon’s groin. Fingon’s hand searched for Maedhros’ head, grasping a handful of the rich, thick red hair. Then Maedhros slid his lips all the way down Fingon’s cock, burying it in his mouth in one smooth motion, making him squeal and buck his hips. Another wild squeal from his cousin made his desire to experiment more rise in his belly.
“Gods, Nelyo, but I will lose all control,” Fingon yelled while Maedhros continued to use his mouth to pleasure him until he had released. When he was finished, Fingon lay panting, his chest heaving until he emerged from his reverie. “That was wonderful, my love,” he whispered. “And you seemed so reluctant to do this at first, foolishly denying yourself such pleasure.”
Maedhros gave a throaty laugh. “I didn’t know how delicious it would be,” he said, stroking Fingon’s hair. “But you are lovely. Every part of you. I do love you, Findekano.”
Fingon sat up and gathered Maedhros in his arms. “I love you so much,” he said, kissing the side of Maedhros’ long neck, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He slid off the table and knelt between Maedhros’ legs, leaning his face against his groin. The two remained together a bit longer, declaring their love for each other, exchanging a few more caresses and kisses before they cleaned and dressed themselves, tidied the room and returned to the house. Maedhros picked up the silver hammer, taking it with him. They both professed their impatience for Friday to arrive so they could take their love to a higher level, feeling they would have more time and the freedom of being alone to do so.
When they entered the kitchen, Maedhros with hammer in hand, Feanor looked up from the sink where he was washing dishes and looked at them with a scrutinizing gaze. “What have you boys been doing in the smithy at this hour?” he asked.
“We were hammering,” Maedhros replied, holding up the evidence.
Format: Short Story
Genre: Romance
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Graphic descriptions, Slash
Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Feanor,
Pairings: Maedhros/Fingon
Summary: Maedhros and Fingon continue to find risky ways to spend time together.
Waiting for Friday night to arrive was agony for Maedhros. Doing his regular work was uncomfortable with other people there because he felt he had a perpetual erection. Every time he thought of Fingon, which was almost always, he felt himself getting hard. He dressed in voluminous robes to hide it, earning glances of annoyed curiosity from his father, who complained that his oldest son was adding to his list of peculiarities by dressing like a member of some fanatical religious order.
Ever since he had felt Fingon’s lips on him his whole body burned as if on glorious fire, his nerve endings tingled, his mind was unable to concentrate on anything but his cousin. It was worse when he was alone in his room or with Feanor going over his lessons because he could not focus on anything other than Fingon’s gorgeous face, full lips and lithe body and what they had shared. He moaned, rubbing himself under his desk and climaxed more than once inside his leggings, but could not completely satisfy himself. He needed contact with his lover. He felt he could not wait until Friday.
The cousins were trying to avoid each other during their week of waiting but it was difficult because Fingolfin insisted on sending Fingon to Feanor to study silversmithing on the second day after the cousins had been intimate with each other. Nerdanel had invited Fingon to stay for supper, he accepted and he and Maedhros found themselves sitting opposite each other at the dinner table, surrounded by Maedhros’ younger brothers and with Feanor and Nerdanel at either end of the table.
Trying to avoid each other’s glances was almost impossible despite the annoying interruptions from Maedhros’ younger siblings and each of them was afraid they’d give themselves away with a smoldering glance or flushed face. It would have been odd for them not to speak to each other, so each forced himself to do so without giving any hint of the pent-up lust that both felt. It was agony despite the distraction of the occasional banter with one of the younger elves. The meal seemed to last an intolerably long time and as soon as he could, Maedhros excused himself to return to his father’s smithy in order to complete some unfinished work.
When he reached the jewel-smiths’ workroom it was dark and he lit a few candles. Maedhros busied himself with tidying shelves and while in the process of putting away some stray tools he heard a voice behind him.
“Can I help you do that?” The clear voice was unmistakable.
“Findekano.” Maedhros turned to face his cousin.
Fingon quietly shut the door behind him and bolted it. Stepping toward Maedhros he exclaimed, “I cannot wait until Friday.”
Maedhros stood feeling helpless, his desire growing in his loins, but fear of his father possibly finding them out crept over him. In one hand he held a lit candle, in the other a silver hammer. “It has been agony not being with you for one day,” he replied. “How will we last the next five?”
“I feel I must have you now,” Fingon took a purposeful stride toward his cousin. “At least a taste of you.”
“But we cannot do anything in here!” Maedhros exclaimed.
“We can. I’ve locked the door. No one can get in. They shouldn’t even try. They will think we are working on something together.”
“But how can we…?” Maedhros began to ask.
Fingon stopped when there was an inch of space between them and looked up at his taller cousin. His eyes glinted with fierce passion in the candlelight. “There is a table behind you,” he said. “Lie down on it.”
Maedhros turned to look at the rough, splintery work table, covered with engraving tools, dust, polishing cloths, bits of leftover flux and other metalworking detritus. When he turned back to protest, he felt Fingon pressing himself against his body, arms thrown around his waist. Planting kisses upon his cousin’s neck with eager lips, Fingon did not wait for Maedhros to put down the candle and hammer. His hands were still full when Fingon pushed him so that his rump bumped against the table’s edge and with surprising strength, bent him backward onto the table’s surface.
“We cannot,” Maedhros whimpered in feeble protest. Fingon bit down lightly upon Maedhros’ lower lip, his hands roaming beneath the voluminous robe. “What are you wearing?” he laughed.
“No, not here, like this,” Maedhros cried, the candlelight wavering while his trembling hand still held the light source. Fingon’s roaming fingers found evidence of his cousin’s desire between his trembling thighs and stroked it, causing the jeweler’s hammer to fall from Maedhros’ hand and hit the floor with a clang.
Fingon, panting hard, pushed Maedhros flat onto the tabletop. The candle fell out of the holder when Maedhros’ hand smacked against the wooden surface, rolled along the floorboards and snuffed itself out. The two elves found themselves in near darkness.
Maedhros gasped in pain. “There is something sticking into my back,” he cried.
“Aule’s balls!” Fingon swore, stood and taking the candleholder from Maedhros, he soon found another candle and lit it. Turning once again to his cousin, he yanked the taller man off of the table by his collar and with a couple of strokes, swept the table clear of its contents. They scattered along the floor with much clattering and clouds of dust. “Now take off that ridiculous robe!”
“Findekano!” Maedhros, alarmed by Fingon’s near-violent behaviour, cried in protest.
“Enough,” Fingon hissed. “Why are you wearing that thing and why do you act as though you want to resist me? I know you want me and cannot wait until Friday, just as I cannot. I have been mad with lust since yesterday and so have you. Why this pretence, Nelyo? We have discussed our feelings already. There is no point in protesting. No one can see us nor hear us. I want you. I must have you. Lie down on the table!”
Fingon unfastened Maedhros’ robe and pulled it off of him. The red-haired elf was no longer protesting but stood in only his leggings, the front of which bulged with telltale desire. Fingon spread the robe out on the table’s surface and with a smile, pushed Maedhros gently down upon it. “You are proving you want me,” he grinned, placing his hand on the bulge and stroking it.
“Findekano…” Maedhros whispered, staring at his cousin in wonder. “You surprise me. I have never seen you behave like this and here in this light you look years past your age.” He watched in wonder while his cousin divested himself of his clothing. When Fingon stood before him naked, Maedhros was struck by how ravishing he looked, with loose raven hair falling past his shoulders, well-muscled as were his strong arms. His chest muscles were beautifully defined, his belly taut and flat and his arousal impressively straight and strong between well-rounded thighs.
Maedhros gave in to his desire and when Fingon moved to stand between his open thighs, he reached for his cousin’s hair, pulling a handful toward his mouth and kissing it while Fingon leaned down to suck one of his nipples. Letting the strand of hair fall from his hand, Maedhros found Fingon’s back and shoulders, stroking the hard muscles with trembling fingers. He let go of his self-imposed repression and let his fantasies fly. This was what he had been waiting for all day, what he had been thinking about above all else. He would not let his fears stop him any longer from enjoying what he had been craving.
Fingon groaned, his hard shaft pressing impatiently against the soft fabric of Maedhros’ leggings. He undid the laces carefully and slid the garment down his cousin’s thighs, pulling them off and casting them aside. He raised himself onto the table and lay on top of Maedhros, kissing him deeply while their arousals pressed together against their bellies. Fingon released his lips and looked down at his cousin.
“We need to practice doing more things with each other than we have done,” he said.
“Like what?” Maedhros asked, his voice catching in his throat.
Fingon slid off the table and stood on the floor, bending to take Maedhros’ shaft in his hand. Tenderly, he began to kiss and lick while exploring all other tender parts with sensitive fingers.
Maedhros writhed uncontrollably. “Findekano, you will undo me,” he cried.
Fingon raised his head. “Could you do the same to me, as I have done for you? We must both learn how to do these things with each other.”
“What is it like? How does it taste?” Maedhros asked.
“What do you think? It’s lovely. Try it. Touch me…” He grabbed Maedhros’ hand and placed his fingers around his own shaft. “Now stroke it as if it was your own,” he whispered. “Oh, that’s good,” he cried when Maedhros obliged, moving his hand up and down as he was bid. Maedhros held a steady rhythm, making Fingon writhe and moan under his touches. “Oh gods,” Fingon moaned. “Now bend down and put your mouth on the tip of it…”
Maedhros did so. “Ai…blessed be the Valar,” Fingon moaned.
Loose hair from Maedhros’ thick, single braid brushed softly against Fingon’s groin. Fingon’s hand searched for Maedhros’ head, grasping a handful of the rich, thick red hair. Then Maedhros slid his lips all the way down Fingon’s cock, burying it in his mouth in one smooth motion, making him squeal and buck his hips. Another wild squeal from his cousin made his desire to experiment more rise in his belly.
“Gods, Nelyo, but I will lose all control,” Fingon yelled while Maedhros continued to use his mouth to pleasure him until he had released. When he was finished, Fingon lay panting, his chest heaving until he emerged from his reverie. “That was wonderful, my love,” he whispered. “And you seemed so reluctant to do this at first, foolishly denying yourself such pleasure.”
Maedhros gave a throaty laugh. “I didn’t know how delicious it would be,” he said, stroking Fingon’s hair. “But you are lovely. Every part of you. I do love you, Findekano.”
Fingon sat up and gathered Maedhros in his arms. “I love you so much,” he said, kissing the side of Maedhros’ long neck, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He slid off the table and knelt between Maedhros’ legs, leaning his face against his groin. The two remained together a bit longer, declaring their love for each other, exchanging a few more caresses and kisses before they cleaned and dressed themselves, tidied the room and returned to the house. Maedhros picked up the silver hammer, taking it with him. They both professed their impatience for Friday to arrive so they could take their love to a higher level, feeling they would have more time and the freedom of being alone to do so.
When they entered the kitchen, Maedhros with hammer in hand, Feanor looked up from the sink where he was washing dishes and looked at them with a scrutinizing gaze. “What have you boys been doing in the smithy at this hour?” he asked.
“We were hammering,” Maedhros replied, holding up the evidence.