He had come to Aragorn ready to do his bidding, which was for Boromir to take his pleasure of him, to set his Captain’s heart free of toil and travail and disgust.
Boromir could have played the master, exacting the submission that re-made the man, scourging him clean of politic compromise with rough twine and hazel switch until their world was become as wide as the stinging kisses which brought the Captain shuddering to his release.
He could have played the seducer, coaxing him into silken bonds, lavishing scented oils on wet skin, slipping perfumed sweets from between his lips into his victim’s mouth to muffle the groans as those same lips, that tongue, plundered dark and secret places.
And he could have laid him down, offered himself as the vessel to be filled up, sucking out the infection from his Captain’s soul, gifting acceptance and understanding in exchange.
Boromir did none of these. He met his love as a comrade-in-arms, matched the bracelets about Aragorn’s ankles with those about his own, stripped them both and reached out, drawing Aragorn close, enfolding him , thumbs drawing small circles on his spine.
Hesitantly, his love mirrored his stance, clasping Boromir to him almost too tightly, but Boromir softened his embrace, the thumbs moved easily in their pattern and gradually the arms about him gentled too, big hands cradled his arse cheeks.
Boromir leant in to whisper how much he had missed this weight in his arms, how much he needed his touch, his mouth, his hands and how he burned to hear Aragorn moan with pleasure.
Now Boromir shifted his stance to bring their swollen cocks into alignment and felt Aragorn rock on his feet. He let a groan rumble in his chest and Aragorn put his lips to Boromir’s throat, to feel the purr vibrate in his mouth.
Boromir growled as a slip of tongue licked across his collarbone,
“Want your cock...ready for you...”
Aragorn made no answer except to grind against Boromir’s stomach, which drew an answering gasp as his meat bumped and slid through hair become damp with sweat.
The big hands were kneading and patting his arse, blunt fingers teasing the top of his cleft. Boromir widened his stance a little and Aragorn lifted his head to gaze into his eyes and then a smile began to twitch at the corners of his mouth. There was a dark hunger kindling in his love’s eye, but before Boromir could do more than lift an enquiring eyebrow in return, Aragorn had bent to take a nipple between his lips.
The sucking pressure and hot tongue flickering about the aureole that brought it to aching distracted him from all else, so that a groan was wrenched from him when suddenly teeth nipped hard at the same time as two blunt fingers breached him and began to tease at the edge of his hole. Now it was Boromir’s turn to grind against Aragorn’s hip, caught between a needy cock and pushing back against the questing fingers.
Aragorn was beginning to move forward and Boromir edged back, bare feet scuffing on the floor until the corner of the bed caught at the back of his thigh. A final twist of fingers in his slippery hole and as they were withdrawn he was spun around, his hands placed flat on the coverlet.
He was breathing heavily, watching his fingers curl into the silk stuff to take a grip, even as he felt hot flesh push into him, stretching, filling him. Aragorn’s hand closed about his cock and Boromir was sure that Aragorn must feel the throb of blood that drummed in his ears.
And Aragorn began to move slowly; slowly dragging his cock across his sweet spot and then driving back in equally slowly and when he came to the place Boromir thought, through the agony enveloping him, that his love must rise on the balls of his feet to press down and hold him close, rocking gently, until Boromir could bear it no longer and begged for more…which plea was answered with a thumb that teased lazily at the slit twitching in Aragorn’s grasp.
Boromir grunted, dragging in another ragged breath, and began to gasp out how much he had missed this claiming, how much he needed this fist about his cock and how he burned to moan for his man and suited the action to the word, letting Aragorn hear every stroke, urging him on with a shared need beyond the words of men, until the pace was quickened, the pounding of flesh savage and Boromir finally heard his man moan with pleasure.
Voiced by Alex Quine
Summary: Sometimes, Boromir thinks, the simple ideas yield the most reward
Rated: NC-17
Categories: LOTR FPS Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 784 Read: 649
Published: 03 Sep 2011 Updated: 03 Sep 2011
Story Notes:
DISCLAIMER: "These characters originate with their copyright holders. I borrow them for entertainment, not profit."