Scream If You Wanna Go Faster

He needed to wash. Get rid of all his clothes and just wash off the dust, the enemy's blood, the tension in his muscles. He might be the toughest of the fellowship and not one of the others could seriously rival his endurance, but that didn't mean he didn't know what pain and exhaustion felt like. Elf or no elf, his right shoulder was slightly hurting with a stinging ache, and he felt so uncomfortable in his clothes that he already started undoing his tunic while on his way to the small river near camp.

Legolas had been overjoyed when the decision had been made to rest near the little stream. It was only noon and Aragorn had made clear he did not want to waste too much time, but Legolas immediately had announced that he'd rather miss the meal to go to the spring of fresh water and spend the small intermission of their journey there instead of eating with the others. And so he did.

After reaching his destination, Legolas knelt down at the shallow river shore and dived his hands into the wonderfully cold and clear water, the steady, low sound of the tiny ripples flowing fast comforting to his ears. For a short moment, he sat still and marvelled at the beauty of this place, then bent a little over to splash some of the crystal liquid he scooped with his cupped hands into his face. Satisfied with this first, simple refreshment, he swiftly stripped off most of his clothes until he was left only in his pants. He paused abruptly when he heard a strange sound from behind, first freezing in his motion of undressing, then swirling around energetically. He was shocked to find himself face to face with Boromir who stood only inches away.

While Legolas was wondering why Boromir could move so silently all of a sudden, considering that he had rather trudged and trampled through the woods so far, the human warrior's hands lashed out, grasped the elf by his shoulders and smoothly threw him off balance by hooking a foot behind his legs pullpulling them off the ground. With a startled gasp, Legolas tried to hold on to Boromir to evade the fall, but the human didn't supply reliable hold since he lowered himself on both his knees, bringing the unbalanced downdown with him.

Legolas crashed to the ground with a thud, his back smashing onto dry soil, tickling grass and not so comfortably pricking little stones. Before he even realised what had happened, Boromir flipped him onto his front side, letting the elf's bare chest go through the same rough experience as his back had seconds ago.

Boromir knew very well that he had made it thus far only because he had taken Legolas totally by surprise. There was no way the archer would have allowed him to fling him down so curtly if he had seen it coming. But Legolas obviously hadn't expected his gruff attack. A crucial mistake that decided over dominance and submission. With a smirk, Boromir grabbed the elf's wrists and gathered them behind the slender, naked back. It was time to turn the tables.

Legolas grunted in protest when his arms were torn back and he felt something rough, a rope, sliding around his wrists. Finally he escaped his numbness, but it was too late. Boromir had tied him up in a matter of split seconds. Legolas tried to get up, but a strong knee was pressed into the small of his back and forced him down again.

"Let me go!" Legolas yelled furiously, squirming under Boromir's mercilessly pus kne knee in a fierce attempt to shake it off. He struggled even harder when he felt Boromir's hands on his bare skin and successfully slipped out of the man's grip. With a low growl, Boromir tried to place a more resolute grasp and after some moments of bitter wrestling and grappling, he managed to flip the wildly thrashing Legolas on his back and more or less pin him down.

"This is not fair!" Legolas protested, tugging at his restraints violently, but quickly had to find out that his attempts to free himself were in vain. Boromir obviously knew how to make very tight knots in very short time.

"Not fair, you say?" Boromir shot back and brought a hand down to Legolas' face to roughly capture his smooth chin. Legolas' neck arched when he tried to get rid of the annoying hand, but he was trapped in an unyielding grip. "Would you call it fair to use me against my will, all the while pressing my face to the ground, into the dirt?"

"It wasn't against your w-"

"*Would you*?!" Boromir interrupted harshly and tightened the lock of his fingers, causing Legolas to gasp with unease.

"No..." he pressed through gritted teeth, holding Boromir's furious stare.

"So you agree with me when I say you deserve punishment?" Boromir asked, but it wasn't really a question.

"No," Legolas answered anyway, shooting angry sparks at the human who grinned viciously at him.

"Ah, Legolas, you are too beautiful when furious," Boromir said amusedly and then let go of the elf's chin to get a dark piece of cloth out of nowhere. He lifted his hand over Legolas' grim face and let the fabric swing in front of his glaring eyes.

"Do you know what this is, my pretty prince?" he asked, teasingly calm.

"A piece of cloth," Legolas said matter-of-factly, and then added: "And I'm not *your pretty prince*."

"Think of it as you wish, I care not. For now you are mine, whether you like it or not," Boromir said, leaned over the half-naked elf and tried to blindfold him. Legolas tilted his head away in silent protest and again tore at the adamant shackles behind his back, the thin rope scratching his delicate skin in an uncomfortable way. To his great surprise, Boromir did not get rough or angry, but snickered faintly.

"What are you laughing at?" Legolas demanded, his narrowed eyes fixing the human's face that was sporting a huge grin.

"It is droll how you try to make me believe you don't approve of this," Boromir stated, his fingers fumbling with the dark piece of cloth. "It is kind of sweet, really."

"Wha...?" Legolas started, baffled, and then furrowed his brows, intensifying his burning glare. "I am not sweet! And I definitely *don't* approve of this!"

"No, you don't approve of it, you *enjoy* it... do you not?"

"I... *No*!" Legolas spat, outraged.

"You don't find this thrilling and exciting?" Boromir asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Of course not!" Legolas replied furiously.

"Do you realise," Boromir said, still a smirk on his lips, "that these terribly tight pants of yours do not conceal things very well, like, say... rather magnificent bulges?"

Legolas blushed fiercely and stared at Boromir, thunderstruck, his lips slightly parted in what seemed to be another little shock. Boromir took the opportunity and quickly blindfolded the momentarily paralysed elf, another chuckle coming from the back of his throat. This time, Legolas didn't try to fight him or the cloth of, and not only because he was in state of paralysis for a second. After all, his blood was gathering between his legs indeed, making him swell with painful need although Boromir had not touched him in an intimate way at all. He hated to admit it, but this absurd situation had a very arousing effect on him.

"Why don't you also gag me on the top of everything?" Legolas asked bitterly, his furious voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm sure you would like that, but unfortunately I don't have anything appropriate at hand to shut your sweet lips up with," Boromir explained. Legolas tensed when his comrade lifted him a little and slid one of his hands under his back to test the restraints.

"Besides," the human added and lowered the elf back on the ground after finding out that the knots had not loosened from Legolas' tearing and fidgeting but still were more than tight, "I promised to make you scream, remember? And how, my pretty prince, should I ever hear you cry out at the top of your lungs if your lovely mouth is sealed with a gag?"

"I already told you once that I don't scream. Never. And definitely not at the top of my lungs."

"So self-assured..." Boromir muttered, smiling, and slowly straddled the elf's hips. He was careful to not let his full weight down on the delicate body, although he assumed that Legolas could handle much more than that. He felt the elf stir a little under the burden that was gingerly pressing him into the ground, but when Legolas spoke on there was no hint of excitement or unease in his voice.

"Does it bother you that you are not the only being upon middle-earth with healthy self-confidence? In your case, over-healthy, but still..."

"Self-assured and impudent with it," Boromir said and clicked his tongue. "You never fail to surprise me, Legolas."

"So it *does* bother you, does it not?"

"No. Actually," Boromir's voice dropped to a more suggestive tone while he worked his body further down until he was kneeling over Legolas' legs, "it rather turns me on."

Before Legolas could reply a word, determined hands fastened on the waistband of his trousers and he involuntarily lifted his hips a little to help getting rid of them easily. The fabric was pulled off in one swift movement, making Legolas moan almost inaudibly when his fully aroused length sprang free. He held his breath in aching anticipation of the touches that he expected to follow, but Boromir had other plans. He crouched even deeper down until their bodies lost contact and paused for a moment, his eyes greedily drinking in the sight of the blond beauty lying there in front of him, totally at his mercy.

"Open your legs, Legolas,” Boromir finally ordered, breaking the silence with words that sent even more heat into Legolas' reddened cheeks and also his groin. With an odd but not really uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, the elf did as he was told, his heart hammering in his chest and his mouth dry from the excitement.

*Why are you doing this?* a tiny voice screamed in the back of his he*Why*Why are you obeying?*

The answer, although hard to admit, was simple. The hot thrill the whole situation sent through Legolas' body sparked off a fire inside of him he hadn't known before. And new feelings had become a rare and precious thing to experience for him within those many centuries he lived already. His curiosity was stronger than his usually marked aversion to being commanded around.

"A little more," Boromir said calmly, his voice revealing that he was very close to his tied up and blindfolded prey, but he did not establish any kind of body contact. Legolas swallowed hard and hesitated, his inner voices holding a stormy conflict in his head, and then gasped with a start when rough hands hooked with the soft hollows of his knees and spread his legs further apart, exposing him in the most intimate way.

"Don't even think of moving," the human warrior threatened, his voice already deep and husky with lust, and let go of the slender, marble legs again. And then... nothing.

Legolas lay there and waited, expecting anything, but nothing happened. Confused, he held his breath and tried to hear any sounds that would betray Boromir and reveal what he was up to, but it was totally silent. Apart from the wind rustling the leaves of the trees, the low splashing from the river and a few birds chirping, nothing reached his keen ears. When he pictured Boromir sitting some feet away, just staring at his nudity that was enfolded in front of the warrior without compromise, he felt blood surge to his face, a sudden flush that was caused by both embarrassment and excitement. On the one hand, he didn't feel comfortable at all with the iof uof undergoing such a thorough examination of Boromir's eager eyes, but on the other hand there was something disturbingly arousing about it. And this burning, sexual kick that was totally new to him was everything it needed to keep the elf from snapping his legs close again.

"I don't find this very amusing," Legolas finally said sharply when he couldn't stand the nagging silence any longer. But there came no reply.

"Boromir?" he asked, a little softer. Still nothing. Legolas started tugging on his restraints again, to no avail, and felt himself starting to panic a little.

"Boromir, 'tis not funny!" he spat, intending to sound annoyed but his voice betrayed him and revealed his despair. What if Boromir had departed and left him here, right after making him spread his legs in this bawdy way and now was sitting with the others at camp, laughing in his sleeve? What if he didn't come back again and only waited for the members of the fellowship to start searching for their lost comrade? The mere thought of the whole fellowship scouring the woods and tripping over his tied up, blindfolded and totally exposed form let his heartbeats speed up even faster. He tore on the shackles like mad, but they did not yield a bit. With a little elvish curse on his lips, he stopped his endeavours and lay still, panting.

Just when it came to his mind that he better closed his legs again to at least escape this impossibly inviting position he still was in, something soft brushed his opening, gently. Legolas gave an abrupt squawk of agitation, his heart skipping a beat and his whole body jerking upwards, away from the unexpected stroke. Strong hands clasped his hips and dragged him back, shoving him along the ground on his bare back, until his bottom bumped into something and the tender caress was repeated.

Legolas couldn't keep himself from moaning softly at the sensation, although he hadn't even figured out yet what was going on. Only when a warm, wet and soft something ran along his twitching muscle, teasingly circling the narrow ring, Legolas realised that Boromir had fastened his mouth on him... *There*. Where no one had ever kissed, let alone *licked* him before.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the moist, tickling caresses, now that he knew where they came from, Legolas attempted to wind away and deny the warrior access, but the hands on his hips were strong and resolute and didn't let him get away. Instead of releasing the elf, Boromir pressed his face even closer to him, his short beard scratching the archer's delicate flesh.

Legolas gasped a little and knitted his brows under the blindfold when he felt the moist tip of Boromir's tongue push against his opening and then slip in a tiny bit. His legs automatically snapped close at the unknown sensation, clenching Boromir's head between firm, hot thighs, but the warrior didn't even try to pull his head away. Instead, his large hands slid from Legolaips ips to his inner thighs and, since Legolas' muscles started to grow a little weak already, effortlessly spread them open again, wide. The tip of his tongue moved restlessly, testing, darting in and out in small, quick flickers. Soon, Legolas was squirming involuntarily, and even pushed down to the mouth that was working so fervently between his legs.

Pleased by the enthusiastic way the elf's body reacted to his ministrations, Boromir readied himself for the assault that, so he hoped, would tear a cry or at least an uncurbed groan from the rather controlled archer. His hands slid under Legolas' buttocks and gripped, hard enough to bruise the delicate pale flesh under his fingers, spreading the porcelain cheeks further apart with determination, slightly expanding the tight hole he was lapping at. Then he slightly lifted the lower part of Legolas' body until the elf's pelvis lost contact to the ground, supplying the human with much better access to the spot of his desire, and before Legolas could protest in any way, Boromir closed his lips over the faintly jerking flesh in a firm, sucking kiss and forced his entire tongue inside.

Legolas' whole body arched and tensed when he felt Boromir's lithe, moist tongue slide up inside him, pushing and exploring, caing ing and rotating, then glide fully out again just to plunge back in. He bit down on his lower lip and won the battle with a moan that threatened to burst past his lips, but he couldn't keep himself from shuddering against the human's face.

Boromir smiled at the very low sound of disappointment that slipped from the elven mouth when he withdrew from the tight opening and slowly started to trace a line of small, gently sucking kisses along the inner side of Legolas' left thigh. He let the tip of his tongue travel along the firm skin, then nibbled tenderly at the pale delicacy when he felt the muscles underneath his lips twitch in response to his caresses. While his mouth cared for the inner sides, Boromir's hands stroked the outer sides of the elf's thighs, softly massaging the warm skin under his strong, restless fingers. He worked his lips, teeth and tongue from Legolas' knee all the way back to his buttock and felt the elf tense with each inch onsibnsible skin he passed. When he reached his destination, Boromir drew the tip of his tongue along the elf's cleft in a slow, teasing stroke and without penetrating him. He felt Legolas wriggle against his face, pushing down a bit in a silent plea of being entered again, but Boromir showed no mercy. Instead of doing what the elf wanted, he withdrew again and started the slow, teasing journey of his mouth anew, this time at Legolas' right knee. The archer didn't say a word and just lay still, temporarily shuddering a little, but Boromir could feel he was fighting.

And sooner or later, he would fail with fighting it all back. Boromir was determined to tear down the elf's walls of control, to make him live up the hot passion and wild fire that only waited to break free. Boromir's techniques were different from the ones Legolas had used to make him submissive the other day, but that didn't mean Boromir's actions were less torturous or showed no effect. He would have Legolas begging on his knees. And he would make him cry it all out, the emotion, the pleasure, the delicious pain. Make him scream like he had never screamed in his whole, long life.

After showering Legolas' entire right thigh with gentle, teasing kisses and nips, he paid only very little attention to the elf's most intimate spot - after all time was pushing and Boromir had a task to fulfil - and then quickly crouched further up, settling down between Legolas' parted legs. With a low sigh, he lowered his body that he had undressed hastily while paying attention to the elf's legs, pressed his glowing skin against Legolas who gratefully arched into him, and kissed him deeply. The elf replied with radiant passion and moved his soft lips over Boromir's mouth in a demanding fashion. It was the kiss of a man who had many, many years of experience in this particular area and Boromir had to break away after some seconds because he felt that if he continued to let Legolas consume his mouth like this it would be his undoing.

He tilted his head back abruptly, making Legolas moan softly at the sudden loss, and looked down onto the elf's face with admiration. The bruised, beautifully curved lips were still parted and moist from their kiss and Boromir found that it was one of the most intoxicating visions his eyes had ever seen. So enticing, pretty, perfect... and it was *his* to savour, if only for the moment. He had to see more, drink in those lovely features completely.

Legolas gasped when the blindfold was torn from his head and quickly blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the new situation as quickly as possible. He then gazed up at Boromir who hovered over him, kneeling between his parted legs, one of his large hands dropped down on the elf's smooth chest.

“I wish to see the expression in your eyes when I take you,” the human warrior explained huskily, his deep, warm voice that was so thick with craving sending shudders through Legolas' body. For some reason, he hadn't expected Boromir to say something like this, and now stared at the human wonderingly.

"What?" Boromir asked, frowning and slightly panting. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Legolas replied, smiling, and spread his legs a little wider in an unambiguous invitation. "That wish of yours shall be fulfilled."