Title: What Happened Last Night?
Author: LK
Rating: R, even suggestion of NC-17
Warnings: Slash
Challenge: Screw Yule 2009, Day 3 prompt "The Morning After"
Characters: Erestor/Glorfindel
Feedback: yes please,
LKBeagleluvr@aol.com
Beta: None, so any mistakes are mine alone
Disclaimer: Don't own any, just playing; I'll put them back when I'm done.
Okay, okay, here’s the formal blurb: All publicly recognizable characters,
settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original
characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way
associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No
copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor wake up and wonder.
********
Imladris, 2009 Third Age
Elves do not sleep with their eyes closed; rather, they enter open-eyed
reverie, a half waking dream state that provides as much rest as they usually
need. Typically, when waking from reverie, an Elf would have to blink before
becoming aware again.
This morning, when Erestor regained his awareness in the dark, he was
confused for a moment until he realized his eyes were closed. Not only that,
they
were practically glued shut, which he dimly recognized meant there had been
drink involved at some point--and far too much drink at that.
As if there were any doubt of that fact, the stabbing pain behind his eyes
when he tried to open them merely confirmed his suspicion. He knew a
brilliant hangover when he felt one.
Groaning, he carefully turned over onto his back and cracked open one eye to
stare at the ceiling, which only led to more confusion. Rubbing his eyes,
he vaguely thought that a trick of the light, his crusty eyes and the
alcohol-induced haze were playing tricks with his sight. His ceiling was a soft
shade of blue, not a cheerful yellow as that which adorned Glorfindel's
chambers.
Another groan issued forth, which Erestor dismissed until he realized it had
not come from him.
Blinking furiously, he forced his aching eyes open--indeed, the ceiling was
yellow. Turning his head slowly to the right, he spied a rather large body
laying next to him with flowing golden hair atop it.
Erestor gasped and whipped his head back to stare at the ceiling that was
not his--his shock making him forgetful of how painful such a sudden motion
would be.
He swallowed hard, willing his head to stop pounding and his rebellious
stomach to subside when it began to protest. Erestor spent several moments
quelling the nausea after what had obviously been a night of excesses--in more
ways than one.
Thankful his belly was under control, the darkling Elf slowly turned his
gaze back toward the right when he felt Glorfindel turn over. He met red-rimmed
eyes that squinted at him in befuddlement. Glorfindel's eyes were usually a
lovely cornflower blue, but this morning they were nearly violet with the
amount of red surrounding them.
"Erestor?" the Balrog Slayer croaked at him, clearly confused.
"Aye," Erestor's rasped back, his voice in no better condition.
Glorfindel reached up a hand and scratched his head in puzzlement, making an
obvious effort to think clearly.
"Why am I naked?" he finally asked.
Not really trusting his own sense of touch under the circumstance, Erestor
lifted the sheet to visually confirm what he hoped he was imagining before
answering.
"For the same reason I also seem to be in the nude, I suspect."
The two stared at each other for a moment in complete disbelief and denial.
"Circumstantial evidence," Glorfindel stated flatly. "Totally
inconclusive."
Erestor paused for a moment, mentally taking stock of his physical well
being before responding. Blinding headache--consistent with too much wine;
queasy stomach, also to be expected; but there was no other telltale soreness as
he would expect to feel had he engaged in any other sort of exertions the
night before.
"It would certainly seem . . ." Erestor suddenly stopped when Glorfindel
let out a bark of pain as he shifted in the bed to get more comfortable.
Both Elves froze at this new piece of information.
"Head?" Erestor asked a bit tentatively, his tone perhaps even a little
hopeful.
"Uh, no," Glorfindel replied. "No. Definitely more southerly regions than
that."
Erestor merely stared at his bedmate a moment before exclaiming,
"Impossible! There would be more evidence . . ." The counselor lifted the covers
again
has he spoke, seeking the lack of proof. He broke off mid diatribe and
quickly clutched the blankets close to his body upon spying the dried evidence
of
the previous night's activities upon his private parts. He had not
noticed that before, but admittedly he had not been looking for it, either.
When the counselor said nothing further and merely squeezed his eyes shut,
Glorfindel did not need to be told anything further.
"Oh," he said simply as he sunk back on the pillows, mirroring Erestor's
pose as he clutched the covers to himself.
"Indeed," Erestor whispered.
They lay side by side in silence for many long minutes before Glorfindel
finally said, "If only we knew whether or not we enjoyed it."
Erestor lifted the blankets again to examine the undeniable visible proof of
their encounter, noting the copious amount of said evidence before he pulled
the covers close again. At length, he responded, "It would seem we not only
enjoyed it, but did so more than once."
"Hmmph," Glorfindel grunted noncommittally. Finally, he said, his voice
quiet, "Well, anything worth doing more than once, is worth doing again, would
you not agree?"
Erestor considered the question for a moment. What was done could not be
undone, and there was no sense wasting an opportunity like this, particularly
when he had hoped and waited centuries for just such a chance.
A sly smile curved the counselor's lips as he rolled toward his bedfellow,
pushing the blankets out of the way. "Not only is it worth doing again, but
it would be worth remembering. Perhaps we can jog our memories . . ."
His grin broadened when he saw Glorfindel's lips quirk in an answering smile
and the warrior opened his arms in welcome.
~fin~