Paramour

Sitting still was not a favorite activity of the young archer. In fact,
he positively loathed it. How utterly embarrassing, laying there with
his foot propped up on a pillow like some pampered pouffer partaking in
a pedicure. Too bad he couldn’t feel his toes, much less wriggle them,
for they were bound so tightly by Erestor’s worried hands. No matter
how he had balked, Erestor had insisted on wrapping his ankle and
sending him off to bed like some stricken Elfling. Never mind the fact
that Saelbeth could limp about fairly well and with very little pain.
His foster father would have none of it.

Saelbeth groaned and stared longingly towards the balcony where the sun
still shone brightly, the breeze carrying the voices of young Elves
practicing their archery skills, whooping like children when a target
was soundly struck. And here he was, stuck with a fine view of his
bandaged foot and the water pitcher. Could life have been any more
thrilling?

A timid knock roused him momentarily from his profoundly pouting state
and he grumbled a forlorn, “come in,” as he flopped back against the
pillow with a dramatic sigh of frustration.

Tinuvel’s heart skipped as Saelbeth's voice called back through the
door. He had almost hoped that the archer wonot not be there so he would
have no excuse to come in and check on him. Well, at least that what he
had conned himself into believing, he was only there to make sure that
his friend was in no pain and then he would leave, just like that.
Tinuvel sighed......just like that.

Pushing the door open, the healer was struck by the fact that Saelbeth
was laid out on his bed, his healed ankle bound tighter than a rind on
green cheese. And tunicless at that. Closing the door behind him, the
healer sort of hovered near the door, not really entering the room, but
not quite far enough form the door to say he wasn't just leaving.

"I ....um.... I just came to see how your ankle was getting. I . I mean
you were getting on...It was really quite a bad sprain and well I don't
think I was at all very pleasant to you......I am sorry......" Tinuvel
continued to natter on, his fingers fidgeting with the healing pouch
that hung from his belt.

“Ummm.... Saelbeth.....why is your ankle all trussed up? Do you have
pain?" The healer had taken a few steps forward, but was still treating
the young elf as if he had some sort of communicable disease.

“Erestor,” Saelbeth groaned, rolling his eyes. Waving his hand about,
he mocked in his best authoritative voice, “Saelbeth, you cannot simply
go around flinging arrows from all manner of odd angles and expect to
maintain your balance!” He cast his foot a disapproving scowl while
tossing an imaginary braid over his shoulder. “Look at your ankle,
young one! To bed this instant! No, wait. . .let me bind it so tightly
that you get absolutely NO blood flow to your toes, then perhaps they
shall fall off and you shall trouble me no more with your antics, oh
Footless One!”

He gazed helplessly at Tinuvel. “Would you kindly get this thing off of
me, mellon-nin? I can barely feel my toenails! Do I even have
toenails? I am not sure anymore!”

Tinuvel chuckled to himself. He should have known. Erestor meant well,
and really he would be lost without his support and friendship, but he
could be a tad over protective. The healer recalled an incident with a
sliver in Elrond’s hand, that had him quite in a flurry of concern. He
had the poor Elf disinfect the wound about a dozen time before he
finally
conceded that perhaps it was healing properly.

"Of course I will, Sael" , Tinuvel agreed, crossing to the far side of
the bed, the Elf's joking behavior easing his awkwardness a bit.

He sat on the edge of the bed his fingers gently following the edges of
the bindings until they found the knots that secures the wrappings.
Deftly, Tinuvel worked at the bandages, focusing all of his attention on
the tangles bindings and trying desperately to ignore that fact that he
was sitting on Saelbeth's bed while he was inches away and barely
clothed.

The healer groaned in frustration at his own in ability to stay focused
even upon a task as simple as this. With a tug that was perhaps a bit
too hard, the binding snapped beneath his fingers and his fist moved
forward and knocked Saelbeth square in the injured ankle. The young
elf's body tensed and he let out a yelp of pain, causing Tinuvel to jump
back from him in shock. How could he have been so clumsy? By the Valar,
what the heck was wrong with him lately? He didn't seem have control
over any aspect of his traitorous body any more.

As Saelbeth's pain echoed thought the room Tinuvel did his best to
soothe him.

" Oohhhh, Saelbeth! I am so sorry,” he stammered, touching the Elf's
leg and then pulling back when he seemed to reel in pain.

“Sael......Ohhh, by the Valar, I am sorry ....!" Tinuvel’s hands hand
made their way to the Elf's arms and then his shoulders.

“I'm sorry....." he repeated, his voice becoming softer as he panted out
his apology. " I'm sorry...."

His hand stroked the smooth curve of the archers cheek. In a voice that
was almost inaudible Tinuvel repeated his plea one last time.

"Saelbeth....I'm...I'm..." The healer’s words were lost as his mouth
closed over the prone elf's his lips pressed hard in a desperate and
very inexperienced kiss.

Pulling back as quickly as he had descended, the healers eyes widened at
his own brazen actions, his breath shallow and panting. Squeezing his
eyes shut, for he could not bear to look at the young Elf, Tinuvel began
to speak yet another apology when he faltered, his breath leaving him in
a shuddered gasp.

Saelbeth cocked his head to one side, running a finger over his bottom
lip where Tinu’s mouth had pressed so wantonly. . . and clumsily. What
in all of Arda had just transpired here? Surely Tinuvel had not meant
to. . .

One look at his awkwardly fidgeting friend told him othse. se. Yes, he
had meant to. And badly. How could Saelbeth have possibly missed such
a desire? Usually, such things were of second nature to him. . . and he
was quick to pick up on them.

But not with Tinuvel. . .

The healer was beyond mortified. It was bad enough that his body had
these urges that he could not seemingly control, but that he had acted
upon then in such a shameless way, taking advantage of Saelbeth's pain
and infirmity. It was far too bold. He should just get up and walk
away, and then hurl himself off the nearest cliff. How could he have
done this...?

Saelbeth watched as his friend agonized over what had just transpired.
The young healer was clearly embarrassed by his brazenly blundering
efforts, sweet though the intention had been. Or had it? A fine sheen
of perspiration glistened upon the pale forehead, the dark eyes
hauntingly frightened with the newness of this strange desire.

The archer found it hard to believe that his friend had never. . . well.
. . certainly he must have. . . hadn’t he? After all, Tinuvel was far
from unattractive. In fact, he was growing into a stunning specimen of
an Elf with his lushly dark hair and compassionately somber eyes. . .not
to mention a rather well-toned frame to complete the picture.

With a gentle hand, Saelbeth reached for his friend, threading his
fingers lightly through the thick curtain of hair that hid his
expression, pushing it aside. His arms slid around the slumped
shoulders and he drew the younger Elf against his bare chest, holding
him there for a moment, stroking the dark mane reassuringly.

The healer continued to berate himself and in fact was about to rise
when Saelbeth's hand came up to tangle gently in his hair. Tinuvel
stopped breathing, sure that the young Elf would push him away, bracing
himself for the embarrassment. But it never came. Instead he found his
body being pulled against the object of his desire and held tightly in
the most reassuring of actions. Daring to take a breath, he exhaled, his
body relaxing against Saelbeth's chest, the Elf's intoxicating scent of
fresh dewed grasses surrounding his senses, drawing him closer.

The nearness of his body seemed to calm the healer somewhat. . . but
Saelbeth found it to have a profoundly unexpected affect on his own
person. He slipped a hand beneath Tinuvel’s chin and tipped the shy
gaze to his own.

Languidly, lost in the moment, Tinuvel found himself gazing into his
friends eyes of palest blue, ones hd bed been avoiding before, but now
surrendered to.

“Merilin,” Saelbeth breathed rather huskily, the raspiness of his own
voice surprising him. “Aniron. . .”

Desire??.......yes..... I mean, no...... !! Tinuvel’s thoughts battled
within his mind, though his body responded to the sentiment with arduous
eagerness.

Before the healer could utter a reply from his slightly gaping mouth,
Saelbeth silenced it with his own in a tauntingly passionate kiss, his
tongue slipping between the full lips enticingly.

The warmest of lips covered his own and in a heated response, one he
had kept in denial for quite some time, he pushed back against the
exploring mouth, his tongue curling around Saelbeth's in a mirrored
reaction. He knew not what he was doing, but simply followed what was
being offered to him, and whatever it was, he desired it. With a groan
of frustrated pleasure, Tinuvel pressed harder against Saelbeth, trying
to assuage his need, but knowing not how to accomplish it.

Saelbeth plundered the young healer’s mouth with his tongue
relentlessly. Oh, how wonderfully sweet his friend tasted! He could
lie within the pale gold of the sun’s rays all afternoon and simply kiss
Tinuvel, who submitted to him with such innocent ease, so willing and
tender. None had compared to the unexpected ardent honey of the
healer. And the way Tinuvel rubbed against him. . . as if he
desperately needed Saelbeth. . .simply had to have him. . . it was
nearly too much for the archer to bear!

A plaintive whimper arose from the healer’s throat as he clutched at
Saelbeth’s shoulders, the archer matching it with a rather lurid sort of
purring growl as he pressed Tinuvel against his body, hands snaking
beneath the other’s tunic to feel the hardening muscles of his flat
stomach. The healer emitted a short gasp at the touch of Saelbeth’s
questing fingers and the pale-haired Elf suddenly wondered if his hands
were cold. No matter, the fevered warmth of Tinuvel’s young body would
chase all manner of chill away quite shortly.

With a traveling hand, Saelbeth crept downward to the laces of Tinuvel’s
breeches, nimble fingers working deftly to unfurl the leather ties, the
tip of one digit slipping beneath the waistband of the other’s garment,
the knot at last giving in to the calculated manipulations of Saelbeth’s
touch. His fingers met the nest of moist curls and slid slowly further
into the depths of Tinuvel’s breeches.

The healer’s eyes closed tightly, all his concentration centered upon
the feel of the archer moving beneath him. The Elf's body was firm and
unyielding to his desperate advance, but that seemed to be a good thing
for Tinuvel’s body was responding with sensations that he had never
dreamed of experiencing while traveling this road to arousal on his own.

And this was no leisurely stroll either. He was barreling down at full
speed, barely able to contain the desire that was beginning to swell
eagerly between his legs.

And suddenly Saelbeth's hands were in uncharted territory, the muscles
of the Tinuvel's belly clenching at the touch of the others exploration.
The healer attempted to follow the action with his own hands when he
felt the warm fingers broach the top of his breeches.

With a shantakntake of breath he tensed and stilled completely at the
unexpected advance, a shiver creeping down his spine and his aroused
member jerking against his body in its anticipation. The rush of heat
to Tinuvel's groin hit him like a brick wall, and as Saelbeth's hand
brushed against his erection he jolted at the intense reaction, his body
stiffening in response. It was all too much. He could not do this!

With a jerk of his body, Tinuvel straightened and pulled away from
Saelbeth's hand, leaving the Elf wide eyed in surprise. Turning quickly
away, the healer tried to hide his obvious arousal, his breathing coming
in rasping pants, his eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing pull of
his desire.

"Saelbeth...... I cannot.....no.........." Tinuvel's voice was a
graveled rasp as he tried desperately to swallow down his lust.

Saelbeth wrung his hands with a sigh. “It’s my hands, isn’t it?
Everyone says they are always so cold. . .I am sorry. . .I should have
warmed them first!”

His friend cast him a dubiously confused stare and Saelbeth’s
befuddlement grew ten-fold. If not his frigid fingers, then what. . . ?

“Tinuvel. . .I do not understand,” Saelbeth said, his brow furrowing in
the most puzzled of expressions. “Do you not desire me? I thought. .
.”

Tinuvel turned back abruptly to face the confused archer. He was getting
it all wrong. Holding up his hand to halt any further rationalizing, the
healer interrupted Saelbeth's self doubt.

" Tis not you, mellon-nin, "he whispered, his eyes daring to meet the
others in a nervous gaze. " And it not for any lack of desire" The
healer paused, his next words, though necessary, extremely difficult to
utter. " It’s just that....." Tinuvel's eyes dropped to his lap, "It’s
just that I do not know what to do...."

A shuddering breath escaped his chest and the healer felt a bit light
headed. What would Saelbeth think of him now?

A look of relief slackened Saelbeth’s features and he almost laughed
aloud. “So, that is it! You mean it isn’t me?” Then, upon the look of
utter mortification that crossed Tinuvel’s face, he quickly corrected
his statement. “Oh. . .merilin. . .no, no. . .I did not mean. . .”

"No my friend," replied Tinuvel with a ghosted smile. " ‘Tis not you..."
The healer relaxed a bit, the archer’s lighthearted response breaking
the tension somewhat.

Laying a gentle hand upon his friend’s knee, Saelbeth shook his head,
rolling his eyes at his own tactless words. “Mordor fires, Tinuvel. . .
I had no idea. . .I mean. . .have you. . .?” Saelbeth swallowed,
wincing slightly, “Ever? Never? With no one?”

Tinuvel swallowed hard at the touch upon his leg. For some reason his
friend had a hard time understanding his position.

" No....Sael, never..... with no one." Suddenly the healer felt quite
inadequate. " I mean well ...It's not like I never wanted to or
anything ,,,,,its just that well I've been really busy and......."
Tinuvel clenched his hands in frustration " No Saelbeth I have never
done this."

Saelbeth blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment, opening his mouth to
speak but then thinking better of it as realization finally granted him
the grace of blessed clarity and saved him from further humiliating his
friend with obnoxious questioning.

“Forgive me, mellon. . .” Saelbeth said gently, moving to take
Tinuvel’s hand within his own. “It is just that you are so. . .you are
so. . .” Fingers brushed the thick curtain of the healer’s hair aside,
hooking it behind one tapered ear tip. “You are so beautiful. . .I
cannot believe that none have ever. . .”

Silencing himself once more, lest he say something else to remind
Tinuvel of his grandiosely blatant idiocracy, he traced a finger along
the curve of his friend’s jaw.

“I would. . . love to show you how. . .if you will have me,” Saelbeth
said at last, his touch lingering upon the smooth skin.

Tinuvel felt the blush creeping on before he could stop it. What
Saelbeth was offering was indeed gracious and obviously something the
healer desired, but did he offer it out of pity for his situation or out
of need as well?

“Saelbeth.. are you sure that this task is something you wish to
undertake? I am quite sure that I know very little to satisfy you."

The archer smiled gently. “Oh, but you will. . .and how else would one
learn? Do you not think that someone once taught me?” He placed
Tinuvel’s hand upon his bare chest, trailing it downward. “Merilin. . .
I do very much desire you. . .and if you will allow me, I shall show you
just how much. . .