Love in the dark

Many thanks to those who reviewed. I am glad you enjoyed the story and I hope that teh end won't disappoint you...

Full disclaimer, see part one.

Warnings: Graphic sex.

**

Elladan watched the hand that squeezed his brother’s neck. It felt odd. As if far from his own body. It was not him, and, yet, it was. He wondered briefly if he had gone completely mad. He looked in Elrohir’s eyes, feeling the dread hidden there. He stared into them, enjoying the mere fact that the contemptuous light had finally disappeared from his twin’s eyes, replaced by something else. Through his gritted teeth, he said, his voice low and menacing:

“Does it bother me?”

Another shiver travelled the length of Elrohir’s body, but not of fear. The younger twin felt a rush of blood coursing through his veins and a well-known heat gathering in his body. He tried to ignore it, and fought against the need to close his eyes. He refused to let Elladan see the turmoil he was in.

But, close as he was, Elladan felt the sudden change in his brother’s stance. Bending slightly, watching the troubled features that mirrored his own and were at the same time so different, he became suddenly aware of their proximity, of the sensual forms of his twin’s body pressed against his own. He felt himself hardening at that mere thought. How many times had he dreamt of holding his twin so close, to tell him how much he loved him? Now, he could. He could because Elrohir would listen to him. Listen to him instead of mocking him and despising him. Slightly tightening his grasp on his brother’s neck, he explained:

“I can’t stand it anymore. To see them touching you. Having you… When you are mine…”

There was so much possessiveness in Elladan’s voice that Elrohir felt a rush of blood concentrate in his loins. Elladan had never spoken like that. He had always been the shy and reserved twin. But now, there was naught left of that reserve. The grey eyes shone with an expression Elrohir could not interpret. Would not. He shuddered when his brother’s hand left his shoulder to caress his neck slowly and languidly.

Nervously, he bit his bottom lips, realizing how much their proximity was affecting him. He could feel another wave of heat overwhelming him, taking hold of his treacherous body. They were close. So close. He could feel Elladan’s firm chest pressed against his own, one of his long and powerful legs between his, his crotch pushed against his hip, his luscious mouth so c of of his lips. He breathed deeply, trying to focus on the situation, but he only succeed in inhaling his twin’s perfumed scent and that increased his light-headedness. He tried to regain control over himself. Shaking his head and snarling, he spat, desirous to rid himself of his brother’s presence:

“I belong to no one save myself…”

But he knew at the exact moment the words were passing his lips that he was lying. He belonged to Elladan, body and soul, as he had told him years ago. He belonged to him and would never love anyone else as he loved him. Whomever he had held in his arms, whomever had touched him or taken him, he had always had in his mind the image of his brother, pretending at the apogee of his pleasure that he was sharing that moment with his twin.

But, even when his body was screaming his need, when he could feel in his limbs the well-known weakness announcing more pleasure, he heard the cries of his mind speaking of his tears and of his past suffering. Never, that was what he had said. Never, that was what he had sworn. And he had kept his promise without too much trouble, keeping his twin at bay with his words and his hurtful behaviour. But, as they were close, he felt his resolve weakening and he panicked. Instinctively, he tried to back up, but the shelves digging into his back prevented his flight.

Hearing his words, Elladan tilted his head slightly, his hand stopped for a moment his sweet caresses, his bottomless eyes meeting his brother’s lightly glazed gaze, watching the inner turmoil shadowing the huge pupils. He could almost hear the contradictory voices fighting within his twin. He could feel in his brother the arousal as much as the denial. The latter betrayed by the fierce expression of his features, while the growing bulge against his thigh was testimony of the first.

Smiling in an enigmatic way, his body still pressed against Elrohir’s, his injured hand still squeezing slightly his throat, Elladan twined his fingers in the silky dark mane, pushing the long strands aside, revealing plainly one side of his brother’s face, caressing the smooth skin with his fingers callused by the handling of his sword. Then, he softly kissed his twin’s jaw, sampling the aphrodisiac taste of his skin. He let his lips trail the length of the graceful exposed column, leaving butterfly kisses. They were no more than feather touches, but he felt the trembling of his twin’s body. Interrupting his task, he whispered:

“That is not what you said then. You told me that you belonged to me. Forever…”

He darted his tongue and softly licked the elegant curve of the pointed ear, while his hand drew intricate pattern on the skin of his twin’s shoulder, lingering in the soft hollow of the neck and added, his breath blowing on the sensitive tip of that elven organ:

“In mind, body and heart…”

Elrohir’s heart raced in his chest. He could remember speaking those words, staring into the magnificent grey eyes that were looking back at him, then bending over his twin and kissing him softly. He could remember that they had remained thus for long seconds before Elladan had broken away, his usually clear eyes blurred and terrified. Elrohir knew that if he had closed his eyes, the vision of that frightened gaze that had haunted him would come back.

Almost in spite of himself, he turned his head toward his twin, meeting his gaze. But he saw no trace of fear or self-pity. There was a grim determination and a desire in Elladan’s eyes that made his breath catch in his throat. That was the Elladan he had always dreamt of loving. A brother that would not be ashamed or afraid of his feelings for him. A twin that would force him to face his feelings and deny his oath. An Elladan that would not betray his love.

Silence hovered over them, heavy and thick, only disturbed by their quickening breathe. They did not move for long seconds, satisfying themselves with that simple gaze. They were close, their identical gaze glazed by desire and lust, their lips almost touching, their breathing melded together, brushing the fine and rosy skin of their mouths. They did not speak. They had no need for that. Their eyes did it in their places, telling their unspent and unfinished passion, of faults and impossible forgiveness. Silent understanding passed between them. They seemed to drown themselves in that unending stare.

But, all of a sudden, as if moved by the same attraction, their unnatural stillness was broken, their lips crushing together in a bruising kiss. Their tongues were battling for dominance, never yielding to each other, twirling and meeting in a fierce fight, teeth knocking teeth in their ated ted frenzy. That kiss was the exact opposite of the first they had once shared. There was no more innocence and tenderness; they had been replaced by passion and violence. That fur joi joining of their mouths spoke of pressing and unsatisfied need, of years of hopeless dreams. Of revenge taken on each other and on themselves.

Elladan’s uninjured hands left his twin’s neck to circled his brother’s slender waist, while Elrohir wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders. One of their hands twined in the other’s dark mane, as if to prevent him from leaving.

They ungracefully stumbled under the strength of their reciprocated assault that left them needful and quivering with desire, their clumsy steps leading them into the middle of the study. Their lips never left each other, never breaking apart even to breathe. Their bodies were as close as possible, pressing their growing erections together, their hands roaming freely over their flesh, trying to divest each other from those cumbersome clothes without parting. Elrohir was the most efficient, with a victorious groan, he unlaced his twin’s robes and let it slide on the floor, revealing Elladan’s broad chest. Without waiting, he lightly stroked the smooth and silky skin of the firm pectorals, circling an already erected nipple between his long fingers and rolling the little nub between them, enjoying the purring coming from his brother’s throat as he did so.

As they blindly moved through the room, their limbs entangled in a desperate embrace, staggering like intoxicated humans, Elrohir’s legs encountered a chair that fell to the floor with a crash resounding against the high ceiling and bookshelves. He felt himself falling backwards but his twin’s strong arm supported him, preventing his fall and bringing him close. He complied when Elladan gently pushed him back till his knees felt a piece of furniture. The sound of crumpled paper that sounded under his feet told him that they were against the heavy wooden desk.

Elladan broke apart with a groan, keeping for a short second his twin’s bottom lip between his teeth. They did not speak, both panting like wild animals, their breath coming in ragged and noisy expirations. Without letting go of his wanton twin, his arm still circling the slender waist, he tilted his head, gazing at his image, noticing the dishevelled state he was in with his ruffled strands framing his pale face and the glazed and hazy eyes that seemed to challenge him to take what was offered. His eyes fell then on the slightly parted lips, luscious and swollen, like red and rfruifruit begging to be picked, calling to his own mouth for many other kisses. He felt his cock twitching in his leggings at the sight and his own breath quickened suddenly as an enticing tongue dampened the dry lips:

“Mine…”

The husky words left his lips, as he gazed at the beautiful figure in front of him. He would never forget that image. His brother, his twin, the only one that had so much power on him, the only one that could make him suffer and weep, the only he he had ever wanted. His. For the first and perhaps only time. But he would see to it that he would never forget that night. He would claim him as no one had ever claimed him; Touch him as no one had ever touched him. Fuck him as he had never been fucked. He would give him something to remember forever when this was over, something to regret when Elrohir returned to his cold and mistrusting self. When the night died and the day would take back his rights.

With a hand that did not quiver and did not show any signs of impatience, he stretched a hand between their bodies that were still intimately pressed together and began to unlace the robe covering his twin’s magnificent form. He suppressed a shudder of pure pleasure when Elrohir flexed his hips against him, bringing their groins in contact, rubbing their erect shafts together in a slow and maddening motion, sending heated chills to his loins. But, in spite of the arrogant teasing, he focused on his task, his nimble fingers making a quick work of the knotted laces. Finally, the offending fabric fell on the floor, revealing the strong chest, the muscled pectorals, taunting dark nipples and the flat abdomen. His brother was beautiful, even more than in his memories and in his dreams. Perhaps, because this was no dream but a maddening reality.

He laid the palm of his uninjured hand, fingers parted, on the firm stomach offered to his sight, feeling his heart beating a little more strongly in his chest when he heard the soft sigh from his brother’s lips. He slid his hand on the smooth skin, enjoying the enticing sensation, stroking the strong muscles, drawing intricate patterns on his twin’s body, while murmuring in a low murmur, as if trying to convince himself:

“Mine to love. To pleasure. To take. To touch.”

His hand moved lower and lower, reaching the laces of his brother’s leggings, ignoring his twin’s moves to get closer to his hand. Elrohir hat utt uttered a word, watching through half-lidded eyes how the long-fingered hand caressed him. He could not speak, his mind did not respond to him anymore. But he satisfied himself with feeling. Simply feeling. Tomorrow would come early enough with its share of problems and questions, but for the moment, he only wanted to feel.

Biting his bottom lips, he muffled a moan of impatience and lowered his grey eyes to watch his brother’s hand. The long and calloused fingers. The large palm. The strong wrist. The nails short and square. The hand of a warrior. Another wave of fire flowed through his veins as he imagined that same hand touching him in much more intimate place. Need made his head spin. He could feel his blood beating furiously his temples. It was as if his twin’s piercing gaze had ignited in him a burning inferno of desire. A fire, which only Elladan could put out. A deep sigh of relief escaped his lips as his throbbing erection was freed from its tight prison of cloth, standing proud and straight, emerging from its nest of dark curls and bog tog toward his navel. At the sight of the long and thick ivory shaft, an appreciative whisper left Elladan’s lips, a whisper that made his stomach tighten in anticipation. He felt his leggings sliding the length of his strong legs falling to his ankles, the soft caress of the fabric on his fevered skin sending thousands of light tickles in his limbs.

Elrohir closed his eyes when he felt his twin’s hand closed into a fist around his erect member and began a stroking motion. He leaned against the sloppy desk, his round and firm buttocks encountering the hard wood he knew that his legs would not bear him any longer. He felt lost in the sensation awakened in him by Elladan’s hand. Something in him stirred anew as he discovered how much he had missed his twin’s touch. But he was not able to ponder it. He was like a broken doll in those knowing hands. His mind was in an utter haze and he could not think properly. All that mattered was the insane pleasure that took hold of his body. One of his hands grasped the edge of the desk while the other came to rest on the hollow of Elladan’s shoulder, his nails digging forcefully in his twin’s flesh.

Feeling the unspoken need in his twin, Elladan increased his pace, listening to the uncontrolled moans escaping his brother’s lips as to the most beautiful music, watching the undone features as the most beautiful painting. Relinquishing in the knowledge that, for now, Elrohir was his. Completely and utterly his. Writhing in need in his arms. Moaning his name. Wanting him. And him alone. Bending over the offered tempting neck, he ki the the pale column of flesh, then he licked his brother’s ear, lingering on the delicate curve before vigorously sucking the sensitive tip, his other hand stroking one of his brother’s tempting buttocks. Elrohir was close. Very close. He could feel it in the way his brother was bucking in his hand. In the way he had thrown his head back, his dark hair falling in a wild cascade down his b In In the way his cock was weeping creamy tears against his fingers. Elladan’s other hand forsook his twin’s luscious rear to seize a narrow hip and to prevent his brother from bucking. Then, he stopped all motion and let go his twin’s erection.

At the loss of contact, Elrohir’s eyes snapped open and he instinctively thrust his hips, seeking the needed friction. But Elladan’s hand on his hips prevented it, maintaining him against the desk. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his fevered spirits, giving an interrogative gaze to his twin. The question that left Elladan’s lips surprised him.

“Do you want this?”

Elrohir stared at his twin, noticing the need in the darkened pupils. A need that matched his own. Noticing the determination that had not died out. His hand shook as he reached his brother’s chest and slid his palm against his body. Yes, he wanted this. Wanted it more then he had thought possible to want anything. He wanted to be taken, hard, to appease that fire. To have what should have been his many years ago. Perhaps this would be ephemeral. Perhaps tomorrow Elladan would go back to his former weak and doubting self. But he did not want to think about it now. He wanted the moment

Elladan knew he had to ask the question. Because he wanted to hear his brother’s answer. Because he wanted his twin to remember that he had asked for it. Begged for it. Submitted to him. His breathing became shallow, his blood coursing through his veins in a wild race, as he watched in awe his brother began to unlace his leggings, freeing his engorged sex without touching it. His cock quivered in soft anticipation as his brother turned around, leaning against the desk, his hands resting on the wood, through the few papers remaining on the desk, presenting in a most inviting way his attractive buttocks, back arched and legs widely parted, speaking in a commanding tone those short words that he had always dreamt to hear.

“Take me…”

He did not hesitate. There was no time left for hesitation and doubts. He approached the tempting body, resting one hand on the firm offered rear and began to prepare his brother, using their mixed precome to lubricate the dry opening and to coat his owectiection, trying to ease the way. He did it quickly; encouraged by his twin’s wild bucking as he tried to impale himself further on the long fingers plunged in him. Then, withdrawing his hand, he replaced them by his pulsing erection, sheathing himself slowly in his twin’s arse, stroking the protuberant vertebra of his twin back as he did thus, suppressing the deep groan of pleasure that came to his lips when he felt himself tightly enclosed by the walls of his brother’s passage.

Air had become heavy and sweat clung to their skin. Neither of them spoke for a brief moment, as if savouring the silent intensity of their intimate connection. Then, they began to move together, instinctively knowing how to give each other the most pleasure. Slow at the beginning as if to become acquainted with themselves, their motions acquired a kind of ecstatic frenzy after a few thrusts. As for their kisses, there was no tenderness in their joining. No softness. No apparent love. It was rather a quest to quench an inward thirst. A thirst that tormented them for a long time. Thirst for each other. Need to unite their bodies and their minds. They felt themselves moved by a greater and higher will, as if someone was commanding them. Moved by a need they did not understand and did not even seek to understand. It was not gentle. It was not tender. It was a race. A race toward pleasure and completion. It was a fight. A fight between their choices and their needs. Between themselves. A fight that could not be won, even if they were not aware of it.

Elladan’s fingers dug forcefully in his twin’s hips as he slammed himself deeper and deeper into the welcoming heat of his brother, feeling the clenching of his twin’s muscles ad hid his engorged cock, seeking to go higher and higher, to reach the edge of the heavenly pleasure. Sweat was blinding him, falling in heavy drops in his eyes, but he did not care. He could only feel the waves of intense pleasure coursing through him and by the deep cries from his twin. Then, an orgy of colours and sensations exploded in front of his dilated eyes as he felt his twin’s muscles clenching around him one last time, enveloping him in an irresistible embrace that sent him over the edge. His low growl of pleasure blended with his twin’s shriller one and he collapsed on the form of his twin. His chest on his brother’s back and his head in the hollow of his blade-shoulders, he inhaled deeply the salty scent of his twin’s skin, feeling utterly exhausted but also completely at peace with himself. A sensation he had not felt for a while.

Then, he felt it. A spark of light. Fine and fragile. But dancing in his mind. A flickering light that brought back to life the bond between them they had once willingly severed. It was like a warm and comforting presence, something he had not realized he had missed. Gently, he felt his twin’s mind touching his own, opening itself to him in the vapours of their spent passion like a blossoming flower. And suddenly, a wave of memories assaulted him, vivid images of a past he had not lived and had not shared. He felt despair, hope, love and hate. He knew that Elrohir was experiencing the same thing.

He rolled over, leaving his twin’s warm body with a shiver, feeling the few papers remaining on the desk sticking to his damp skin. He remained there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his breath quieting slowly, unable to look at his twin to know he was dealing with those memories that were not his. Unable to look at the one he had caused so much pain. He had known it. He had known that he had broken his beloved twin’s heart. But knowing and feeling were two very different things.

He did not raise himself when a crumpling of paper betrayed his brother’s move. He. He did not dare. He heard the soft rustling of clothes when Elrohir dressed. He listened to the light sound of his steps on the ground as he walked toward the ground and the clink of the door announcing that his twin had left. But he did not move. He did not look up. He remained there, lost in the whirlpool of sensations he had not expected to find in his brother, his eyes blindly staring. Never had the future appeared less certain to him.

**

He was waiting. Waiting for him to come. He would come. He could feel it. Feel it as he could feel the pain, the shame, the love, the spite and the hate mixing in his mind, furiously melting, not really knowing what he himself felt and what Elrohir felt.

He was lost. Like an elfling walking alone through a great forest.

He was waiting. He did not know for how long he had been sitting there. In their garden where so many things had happened. Where their fate had changed so many times. He was waiting. He would come. He knew it. He felt it. No matter how much time it would take. But he would come.

Time passed. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? He did not know. He did not care.

When he finally felt his presence, he did not move, did not speak. Did not even blink, his eyes fixed on a little golden bird perching on a branch. He listened to its song, not giving much attention to the noise that the light feet on the grass made. He did not avert his gaze from the little animal, as the newcomer silently sat next to him, making sure that were not touching.

Neither of them spoke, both absorbed in the thoughtful contemplation of that happy place of their childhood. More time passed, but they still remained silent.

Finally, Elladan broke the silence, his gaze unwavering, still fixed on the same place. He had decided that he would accept Elrohir’s decision as his own. He had realized that it had always been like that. He might have been the elder, but Elrohir had always been the leader, the most assured of them, the one who decided for both. His voice was soft in the cool day, not showing the turmoil he was in.

“Well…”

Elrohir did not look at his brother. He had no need to look at him to know what he was feeling because those emotions were also in him, the reawakened bond uniting their minds as one. He would have liked to speak, but he could not. He could not because he did not know what to say. It was a frightening impression. Elrohir had always prided himself for being sure of himself, taking quick decision. But he had realized that in fact he had never known anything, learning to believe some truths, taking them as certainties and replacing them by others when they were not satisfying anymore. He had learned to love his brother, to hate him, to des him him. But none of those feelings were really his. There was no certainty anymore in his world and it frightened him.

He swallowed with some difficulty and said softly, admitting without shame:

“I don’t know…”

Elladan did not move, listening as much to his troubled senses as to his twin’s voice. They were both in the same state of mind. Troubled and upset.

His twin’s silence encouraged Elrohir to follow. He bit his bottom lip nervously and dampened them before speaking, his gaze following the path of an eagle in the clear sky.

“So many things had happened. We have made so much harm to each other. I know I love you…” He pausriefriefly, clenching his jaw and breathing deeply as if to contain some threatening tears: “As I know you love me. But there had been so many doubts, so many misunderstanding between us, that, sometimes…”

There his voice broke, shattered by silent sobs that shook Elrohir’s frame. He could not say those words, because they meant the end of things he had believed in without admitting it. But Elladan ended his sentence, the tenseness in his jaw betraying his emotion:

“Sometimes, love is not enough…”

Elrohir only nodded his approval of those words, his dark hair falling forward around his pale face. Silence fell upon them once more, full of unspoken words, haunted by a past they did not want to acknowledge, not understanding how they had let things go so far. Only time would tell them if, for them, love would mend the wounds of the past.


The end.