House of the Golden Flower
folder
+First Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
48
Views:
3,866
Reviews:
54
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+First Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
48
Views:
3,866
Reviews:
54
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part II; Chapter 20
On the sixth day, we took shelter in the foothills near the Sirion, and struck camp. For Turgon there was a tent, that he might have room to divine his purposes, but the rest of us slept out on the open ground near our horses in groups of houses.
I waited, once again, until all was dark and quiet, then crept into Turgon's camp. A border guard saw me, but said and did nothing, he knew I was trustworthy. Turgon's tent was dark and cold when I pushed aside the door flaps and padded in.
He lay curled in his blankets in the middle of the floor. I lay down beside him and put an arm around his waist. "Glorfindel?" He asked.
"Who else?" I asked, amused.
He smiled. "Was hoping you'd come."
I kissed him, he returned it. We lay together and kissed for a while, he pulled me under his blankets with him and undressed me. He reached for a bottle of oil at one point; I playfully licked his arm, his neck. He laughed, and the soft sounds of our loving continued.
I grunted and rubbed myself against his chest, up on my hands over his head, his fingers sliding in and out of me with slow thrusts. He leaned up and licked my belly, as his fingers vanished from my anatomy. I gasped when he raised me up, his hands on my hips, and lowered me down again so that he pierced me deeply.
I rode him in the fury of our copulation, cries involuntary, yet hushed by one another's mouths and hands. The laughter spilled over whatever dams we placed against it, however. I was laughing in gasps as I spurted on his belly, the warm fire of his own seed racing through me comfortingly.
He tucked me back against his chest, and I hid my face in his neck and chuckled. Tomorrow we would go to battle, tomorrow we might die. So far, we were having the best end party of the night. I didn't really fear death in his arms; nor he, I was sure, in mine.
We kissed for nearly and hour after, before I left, with a last few touches to his face and soft, wet, final kisses.
As I stepped amid the men of his hosts scattered around the tent to sleep, I realized they were awake and felt my happiness plummet a little.
They had heard.
And Maeglin would like to see me shamed, I thought. He doesn't even need to try, I do it all on my own.
I waited, once again, until all was dark and quiet, then crept into Turgon's camp. A border guard saw me, but said and did nothing, he knew I was trustworthy. Turgon's tent was dark and cold when I pushed aside the door flaps and padded in.
He lay curled in his blankets in the middle of the floor. I lay down beside him and put an arm around his waist. "Glorfindel?" He asked.
"Who else?" I asked, amused.
He smiled. "Was hoping you'd come."
I kissed him, he returned it. We lay together and kissed for a while, he pulled me under his blankets with him and undressed me. He reached for a bottle of oil at one point; I playfully licked his arm, his neck. He laughed, and the soft sounds of our loving continued.
I grunted and rubbed myself against his chest, up on my hands over his head, his fingers sliding in and out of me with slow thrusts. He leaned up and licked my belly, as his fingers vanished from my anatomy. I gasped when he raised me up, his hands on my hips, and lowered me down again so that he pierced me deeply.
I rode him in the fury of our copulation, cries involuntary, yet hushed by one another's mouths and hands. The laughter spilled over whatever dams we placed against it, however. I was laughing in gasps as I spurted on his belly, the warm fire of his own seed racing through me comfortingly.
He tucked me back against his chest, and I hid my face in his neck and chuckled. Tomorrow we would go to battle, tomorrow we might die. So far, we were having the best end party of the night. I didn't really fear death in his arms; nor he, I was sure, in mine.
We kissed for nearly and hour after, before I left, with a last few touches to his face and soft, wet, final kisses.
As I stepped amid the men of his hosts scattered around the tent to sleep, I realized they were awake and felt my happiness plummet a little.
They had heard.
And Maeglin would like to see me shamed, I thought. He doesn't even need to try, I do it all on my own.