Two Towers
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,471
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,471
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.
Two Towers
Two Towers
The two hotels stood proudly, only divided by a single road; but still divided. Cars were driving down this road, not at all impressed by these scale scratchers, not recognising what high above them was going on – not really caring. A red sun was touching the sea, telling nothing but the ongoing air pollution. The day is drawing to an end, the night slightly overtaking what is hers – like always.
Two man have arrived, separated, not knowing each other, not caring – just new to the city, just working, just living. They see each other, but not recognising it – just another face in the crowd – too many faces anyway. They go separated ways, two separated hotels, two separated lifes, two separated lifestyles.
The young one gets out of the taxi, pays, gets his luggage, enters the hotel. Inside, away of the street and its noise. In a cage made of glass, in a tiny world inside the flow of events, time is different and strangely the same. He gets a room on top. Because of the view he says – the receptionist just nods. It’s not his business to ask questions.
The older one is tired, jet lag, they call it. His luggage got lost at the airport, they will send it later – he is only staying for two days, will have to go shopping sometimes soon. Gets his room on the 21st flour, doesn’t like heights, gets headaches, moves on anyway. The sun already drowned in the sea when he reaches his room. A small double bed – will just do fine, everything will. He falls on the bed, is instantly asleep, forgotten to lock the door, no one will take advantage of it, disturbing his sleep. Nightmares hunt him again. What’s wrong? Too much thinking. Shadows fall on the wall, clouds shoving themselves before the moon, painting distracting images. Too many lights in the city anyway, even high up. New spots of light accomplish the shadows, reflections from the street deep down and the hotel opposite. The spots are moving, flickering, unimpressed of the man watching them.
Finally on top, high above everyone else, just where he wants o be, where his destination is. He experiences an exciting feeling of power and freedom, looking out of the window deep down, the cars, the people, so far away. He can only watch their lives, not being able to anticipate, too far away. Time comes and goes, minutes become hours, the adrenaline is fading, the mood changing. The city is empty, no one to watch anymore, no cars at all on the rode. All lights extinguished at the opposite hotel, everyone is asleep, he is the only one left, unable to retire to bed just now. He puts out the lights in his room as well, there is no need for them – he feels empty, alone, forgotten.
Images and colours all mixed up, unable to fall asleep again, not with all this lights stimulating his eyes, his thoughts. His gaze falls onto the curtains, willing his body to move, slowly but steady. Reaches the window and stops.
He sees movements at the window opposite, not at the same level but close. He is drown like a moth to the fire. A face, a man, staring strightly at him. Shocked he moves back, an intruder to his privacy, he is no longer alone, no longer the only one in the city. Sadness and joy all mixed up. His hand reaching out, tenderly touching the glass, overwhelmed by the wish to feel the handsome face opposite. Wanting to be near the stranger, wanting to be one, no longer alone. What potential. Adrenaline is again pumping through his veins, his heart rate is going up, his breathing speeding. Everything is possible.
A level above him – an angel like figure is staring at nothing. A face so lovely, a painting rises in his thoughts. He tries to sketch the moment in his mind, tries not to forget one single detail. Their gazes meet, feels like an explosion. His thoughts are all upside down in an instant, sleep al forgotten. The angel above him is all he’s ever dreamed of – it’s a dream, a good one. He wants to touch him, feel him, hold him. His freight of heights forgotten he steps even closer to the window. Heat running through his body, madness in itself. He presses his body against the window – still divided.
Encouraged by the obvious response of the handsome stranger he runs his hands down himself, his body is needy, wanting more. He sees the stranger’s eyes sparkling, but of course it’s too far away, divided. He strokes his chest, throws his head back, moves over is column, so hot.
He can’t hold back any longer, his shirt is gone in an instant, not thinking what he is doing, already too fare gone. Those are his hands, touching his angel. His mouth sucking on his column, marking him for eternity as his and his alone. Wanting to taste the sweet mouth, already open in bliss. Wanton, only waiting for him to enter, to brush his tong over his teeth, to explore everything, to breathe together, to be one. To run his hands through the silken locks, to lick the tiny ears. To hear his angel moaning, a low, sexy sound, drown from deep within. His angel is pulling his shirt off as well. Pale moonlight seems to be entirely reflected by the soft skin. He wants to take the dark nipples between his fingers, rubbing them till they are hard and his angel squirming with need.
He can tell the effect he has on the stranger. His need to run his tong over the hairy chest makes him moan in disappointment; can only run it along the glass, imaging the others soft skin, his male scent. Licking his navel, sucking and biting, setting his personal marks, exploring everything, so sexy, time to move furter down. His trousers are gone in one short move. His penis proudly erect and seemingly glad to be freed.
His angel is wearing no underwear, oh God. He is panting by now, his own trousers too tight all of a sudden. They need to go as well, but slowly, putting on a show. The angel is following every move he is making, his eyes glued to his body, so lovely, so wanting. He starts to stroke his hard flesh, imagine it to be his angel’s hands that give him such pleasure. He needs to lean onto the frame, his knees no longer supporting his weight. His breath is coming in gasps.
Watching the sexiest t eve ever seen, it is hard not to come on the spot. He tries to restrain himself but finally gives in to his needs. Stroking himself in a fast rhythm, his eyes never leaving the stranger. He watches his body yeark, caught in climax, his head thrown back, hearing a soundless cry. He can’t hold bany lny loner, comes too, emptying himself over his own hand.
The world seemed to stand still. His angel has come as well. Spent he slides down onto the flour, exhausted, sleepy, with a smile on his lips. He looks at his angel for a long time than moves away of the window, away of his dream, into reality. The shadow-paintings have changed, but the spots of light are still playing their game. He falls boneless into his bed and is lost to the real world once again.
The stranger is smiling at him, he smiles back, life is good. Than his stranger moves away of the window, out of sight, nearly without a warning, he is gone, out of his life the way he came. Alone again, he sits and stares out at the street again, watches as the city starts to awake. It’s getting cold, he draws a blanked around himself. When the sun emerges again, greeting the from the night damp world with her first rays, he finally moves away of the window, another night without sleep, another sleepy day, but work is waiting. Enough time for a shower and breakfast, not enough time to explore the city. It’s nonetheless a slow day, so it’s no surprise that he is almost the last one to arrive at the meeting. They are already waiting for him. So he is no even through the door when P.J. appears out of nowhere, takes his hand, draws him towards his co-stars, Billy and Elijah already smiling at him. The new Aragorn had finally joined them, so they introduced Orli to him.
The End
The two hotels stood proudly, only divided by a single road; but still divided. Cars were driving down this road, not at all impressed by these scale scratchers, not recognising what high above them was going on – not really caring. A red sun was touching the sea, telling nothing but the ongoing air pollution. The day is drawing to an end, the night slightly overtaking what is hers – like always.
Two man have arrived, separated, not knowing each other, not caring – just new to the city, just working, just living. They see each other, but not recognising it – just another face in the crowd – too many faces anyway. They go separated ways, two separated hotels, two separated lifes, two separated lifestyles.
The young one gets out of the taxi, pays, gets his luggage, enters the hotel. Inside, away of the street and its noise. In a cage made of glass, in a tiny world inside the flow of events, time is different and strangely the same. He gets a room on top. Because of the view he says – the receptionist just nods. It’s not his business to ask questions.
The older one is tired, jet lag, they call it. His luggage got lost at the airport, they will send it later – he is only staying for two days, will have to go shopping sometimes soon. Gets his room on the 21st flour, doesn’t like heights, gets headaches, moves on anyway. The sun already drowned in the sea when he reaches his room. A small double bed – will just do fine, everything will. He falls on the bed, is instantly asleep, forgotten to lock the door, no one will take advantage of it, disturbing his sleep. Nightmares hunt him again. What’s wrong? Too much thinking. Shadows fall on the wall, clouds shoving themselves before the moon, painting distracting images. Too many lights in the city anyway, even high up. New spots of light accomplish the shadows, reflections from the street deep down and the hotel opposite. The spots are moving, flickering, unimpressed of the man watching them.
Finally on top, high above everyone else, just where he wants o be, where his destination is. He experiences an exciting feeling of power and freedom, looking out of the window deep down, the cars, the people, so far away. He can only watch their lives, not being able to anticipate, too far away. Time comes and goes, minutes become hours, the adrenaline is fading, the mood changing. The city is empty, no one to watch anymore, no cars at all on the rode. All lights extinguished at the opposite hotel, everyone is asleep, he is the only one left, unable to retire to bed just now. He puts out the lights in his room as well, there is no need for them – he feels empty, alone, forgotten.
Images and colours all mixed up, unable to fall asleep again, not with all this lights stimulating his eyes, his thoughts. His gaze falls onto the curtains, willing his body to move, slowly but steady. Reaches the window and stops.
He sees movements at the window opposite, not at the same level but close. He is drown like a moth to the fire. A face, a man, staring strightly at him. Shocked he moves back, an intruder to his privacy, he is no longer alone, no longer the only one in the city. Sadness and joy all mixed up. His hand reaching out, tenderly touching the glass, overwhelmed by the wish to feel the handsome face opposite. Wanting to be near the stranger, wanting to be one, no longer alone. What potential. Adrenaline is again pumping through his veins, his heart rate is going up, his breathing speeding. Everything is possible.
A level above him – an angel like figure is staring at nothing. A face so lovely, a painting rises in his thoughts. He tries to sketch the moment in his mind, tries not to forget one single detail. Their gazes meet, feels like an explosion. His thoughts are all upside down in an instant, sleep al forgotten. The angel above him is all he’s ever dreamed of – it’s a dream, a good one. He wants to touch him, feel him, hold him. His freight of heights forgotten he steps even closer to the window. Heat running through his body, madness in itself. He presses his body against the window – still divided.
Encouraged by the obvious response of the handsome stranger he runs his hands down himself, his body is needy, wanting more. He sees the stranger’s eyes sparkling, but of course it’s too far away, divided. He strokes his chest, throws his head back, moves over is column, so hot.
He can’t hold back any longer, his shirt is gone in an instant, not thinking what he is doing, already too fare gone. Those are his hands, touching his angel. His mouth sucking on his column, marking him for eternity as his and his alone. Wanting to taste the sweet mouth, already open in bliss. Wanton, only waiting for him to enter, to brush his tong over his teeth, to explore everything, to breathe together, to be one. To run his hands through the silken locks, to lick the tiny ears. To hear his angel moaning, a low, sexy sound, drown from deep within. His angel is pulling his shirt off as well. Pale moonlight seems to be entirely reflected by the soft skin. He wants to take the dark nipples between his fingers, rubbing them till they are hard and his angel squirming with need.
He can tell the effect he has on the stranger. His need to run his tong over the hairy chest makes him moan in disappointment; can only run it along the glass, imaging the others soft skin, his male scent. Licking his navel, sucking and biting, setting his personal marks, exploring everything, so sexy, time to move furter down. His trousers are gone in one short move. His penis proudly erect and seemingly glad to be freed.
His angel is wearing no underwear, oh God. He is panting by now, his own trousers too tight all of a sudden. They need to go as well, but slowly, putting on a show. The angel is following every move he is making, his eyes glued to his body, so lovely, so wanting. He starts to stroke his hard flesh, imagine it to be his angel’s hands that give him such pleasure. He needs to lean onto the frame, his knees no longer supporting his weight. His breath is coming in gasps.
Watching the sexiest t eve ever seen, it is hard not to come on the spot. He tries to restrain himself but finally gives in to his needs. Stroking himself in a fast rhythm, his eyes never leaving the stranger. He watches his body yeark, caught in climax, his head thrown back, hearing a soundless cry. He can’t hold bany lny loner, comes too, emptying himself over his own hand.
The world seemed to stand still. His angel has come as well. Spent he slides down onto the flour, exhausted, sleepy, with a smile on his lips. He looks at his angel for a long time than moves away of the window, away of his dream, into reality. The shadow-paintings have changed, but the spots of light are still playing their game. He falls boneless into his bed and is lost to the real world once again.
The stranger is smiling at him, he smiles back, life is good. Than his stranger moves away of the window, out of sight, nearly without a warning, he is gone, out of his life the way he came. Alone again, he sits and stares out at the street again, watches as the city starts to awake. It’s getting cold, he draws a blanked around himself. When the sun emerges again, greeting the from the night damp world with her first rays, he finally moves away of the window, another night without sleep, another sleepy day, but work is waiting. Enough time for a shower and breakfast, not enough time to explore the city. It’s nonetheless a slow day, so it’s no surprise that he is almost the last one to arrive at the meeting. They are already waiting for him. So he is no even through the door when P.J. appears out of nowhere, takes his hand, draws him towards his co-stars, Billy and Elijah already smiling at him. The new Aragorn had finally joined them, so they introduced Orli to him.
The End