Kitten licks grazed Glorfindel’s bare neck as the wild one rubbed his erection against Glorfindel’s rapidly rising member. Closing his eyes, Glorfindel leaned his head against the wall of the cave, trying to collect his thoughts or come to his senses or something of the sort.
“I suppose... you’ve... you probably have... uhhhmmmmmnn- oh!” Glorfindel whimpered slightly as his length was enveloped within the warm, moist cavern of the wild one’s mouth. “Oh... oh... oh, not so much, you’ll choke,” he managed to say before his head began to loll back and forth and his speech became incomprehensible. “Ai, Eru!”
Glorfindel’s body trembled as the wild one hollowed his cheeks and continued his ministrations, a hand upon each of the blond elf’s legs for balance. Though the proud warrior would not admit it to anyone, and often made up tales of amorous nights spent with others in his past life in Gondolin, the truth was, he was as untried as a maiden on her fiftieth begetting day. In both lives. The pace of his breathing increased more from nervousness and less from physical activity.
“You should stop... you should really stop,” advised Glorfindel, but his words were half-hearted at best. The fact that his legs had relaxed, the space between them widened, his body slipping down so that he was nearly on his back, all said different. As soon as Glorfindel’s head made contact with the ground, with the soft moss once again, the wild one looked up. “Now what?” asked Glorfindel after swallowing and catching his breath.
Another round of sniffing began, and Glorfindel closed his eyes once more. Perhaps that was all the creature wanted, just to... to taste him, odd as that sounded in Glorfindel’s mind. It was all the base senses that the wild one relied upon. Smelling and tasting, touching and listening. Glorfindel remained still as his companion’s nose gently probed about, lingering here and there, and of course THERE, and all over.
He was then climbed upon, or over as it may be. When Glorfindel dared open his eyes, he found he was staring into those of his wily friend. “Is that enough for now? Are we done? Shall we go outside now?” The last question was extremely hopeful, perhaps a little too hopeful.
Something took a firm grip at the base of Glorfindel’s length, and he cried out as he felt the head of his erection being pinched and squeezed. There was a pained yet determined look on the face of the elf above him, and Glorfindel shifted out of alignment. “No, no, you’ll hurt yourself!” he scolded, panting. “You’ll hurt me,” he added as he tried to move his companion from him and stand up.
A growl was issued forth, and Glorfindel let his limbs fall limp. “Alright. You,” he said, touching the ellon’s chest, “go there,” he said, pointing around the spot he had last seen the satchel with what gear he had left, “bring back,” he mimicked picking something up, and then tapped his own chest, “to me.”
In a flash, the wild one scampered over to the passageway, snatched up the sack, and returned with it to Glorfindel. There was no oil, for he had packed none, and the fish had seen better days. He breathed a sigh of relief to find the terrible stench he had suspected with not present. Ripping the skin from one of them, he slid his fingers through the greasy oil and sat up slowly. “Come here,” he said apprehensively, motioning to the ellon.
Licking his lips and taking a deep breath, Glorfindel rubbed his fingers along the crevice of the wild one’s backside, and was granted a loud, contented purred sigh. As soon as he tried to breach the puckered flesh, the purring was interrupted by a yelp and a yowl, and a nasty set of scratched across his chest. “Alright, obviously, I read something wrong!” apologized Glorfindel, scooting away.
Shifting his gaze, Glorfindel found he was now closer to the exit than his companion, and scrambling to his hands and knees, he began to make his way to the passage.
“Mrrrrhhhhhrrrrrrrrrr.”
Glorfindel turned around, his goal nearly in reach, his destination in sight. True, he would likely have to walk all the way back to Imladris bare assed and would hear about it from the twins, let alone half of the realm, for the next five hundred years. But at least, he would be home, home and safe.
“Hrrrrraaooooorrrwwww...”
Again, Glorfindel paused, looking behind him. Huddled in the moss was the wild one, his hair a tangle around him. He sat up on his haunches, crying out miserably. Glorfindel bit his lip, ashamed of the pain he must have caused. With a sigh, he sat down, watching his companion.
In the darkness, Glorfindel could see the jaw of his odd new friend twitch, the bright eyes glazed and cloudy. Bowing his head, the dark one let out a final mourning wail, then curled up in the moss and furs with his back to Glorfindel and began to cry pitifully.
“Ah, I can’t leave you here like this,” mumbled Glorfindel, crawling back to the lone elf. Snuggling beside the ellon in the mossy nest, Glorfindel gently gathered the wild elf into his arms, rocking him, offering kind words when they came to him. Eventually, the tears stopped and were wiped away. The sniffles subsided, and before he had realized what he was doing, Glorfindel was tenderly kissing the sweet, mysterious ellon who in such a short time had become so important to him.
“Strange, but I think I love you,” admitted Glorfindel as he nuzzled the ellon’s neck. “Probably because you’re the first one who hasn’t asked me within two days of meeting what it was like to fight the bloody balrog. You probably don’t even know what in the name of Morgoth a balrog is, do you?”
A purr was the only response Glorfindel received. The purr was followed by a reciprocating nip to his shoulder, causing Glorfindel to groan. Acts of love, as he imagined them, were always beautiful affairs, for no one had ever suggested anything so primal as this. These thoughts made Glorfindel wonder whether he was in love or not, and whether his companion had any inkling what-so-ever as to what they were doing. “Well you must,” Glorfindel finally reasoned as he was groped and bitten, all the while purred upon. “Obviously, something in your mind must tell you that you and I cannot procreate, so there must be love, or something like it.”
When the little wild elf turned so that his back was to Glorfindel’s front and began to rub his rear against the blond’s reaction, Glorfindel gently held him at bay. “How soon you forget how it went the last time.”
“Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...”
“Oh, I know,” chuckled Glorfindel as the wild one twisted and arched and attempted to make contact. “I won’t let you hurt yourself again, though.”
The ellon looked over his shoulder, and Glorfindel could clearly see what the slighter elf was feeling in those bright eyes. Rejection. Discontentment. Loneliness. Misery. Each emotion tore at Glorfindel’s heart and soul.
“No matter what I say, you just won’t understand.” Glorfindel stroked his hand along the wild one’s arm as he turned away and sniffled again. A strange thought came to Glorfindel’s mind. If he turned this elf away, he feared he may never see him again. If he took him as it seemed he wanted, he would be his forever. ‘I can live with that, but I can’t live with loosing him,’ thought the warrior. His decision was made.
Moving down until he was able to see the wild one’s backside, Glorfindel gently eased his companion onto his stomach. Without explanation, for it really seemed not to matter, Glorfindel ran the tip of his tongue up the cleft, and the moan that came from the wild ellon caused Glorfindel to do the same. Gently, he probed, and by and by, Glorfindel managed to prepare his way using his mouth.
Purring was almost nonstop now, accompanied by groans and pleasured whines of impatience for more. Using oil from the fish again, but this time to slick his member, Glorfindel tried to slow his breathing and calm himself as he readied his entry. “Please, let me do it right this time,” he mumbled to no one in particular. Very gently, he eased into the wet passage, his own cries far exceeding his companion’s this time.
Having only known the touch of his own hand, Glorfindel found himself rapidly losing control over the situation. The wild one growled and arched back; Glorfindel thrust forward with great force. In those minutes as they were joined, Glorfindel lost himself to the moment, his actions and sounds mimicking those of the wild elf beneath him. Upon reaching climax, he sunk his teeth into the ellon’s shoulder, purring with satisfaction.
It was the purr that brought him back to reality. Not the purring of his companion, but a low, rusty sound from the back of his own throat. Glorfindel pulled away gently, disconnecting, letting go. Then he froze.
*good-more-over-sad-warm-good-sleepy*
They weren’t words, they were feelings. What scared him was that they were not his feelings. Glorfindel looked down at the dark elf. He was still panting, trying to gain back his calm. Telltale signs of their coupling were smeared on his belly and his more intimate places. But there was a look of absolute bewilderment upon his face. Glorfindel could only imagine what he was seeing or hearing in his mind.
“But... but this is impossible,” said Glorfindel to himself. “The only way for me to know your thoughts and for you to know mine is if we were to bind, and we cannot be bound. It isn’t possible. We have neither exchanged vows nor called upon-“ Glorfindel paled. “Called upon the names of... of Elbereth, Manwe and...”
Glorfindel watched the wild elf sympathetically. The ellon was shaking his head, obviously in an attempt to make the voices he heard in it ‘right’ again, as it were. “Dear Eru, what have I done?” muttered Glorfindel.
