Full Brother in Heart

I. Intrigue

The day had been a busy one, if anything. Since after the mid-day meal and last of the quiet, peaceful moments he could spend in the company of his wife and children, Nolofinwë had been caught in a whirlwind of people who had focused all of their attention on him. The second son of Finwë and High Prince of the Noldor was celebrating his begetting day.

At least one room of his private chambers must have been filled with artfully wrapped gifts from family members, friends and the Court's lords and ladies--all of them present at what appeared to be the greatest feast Tirion had seen for many years. The guests, seemed to be enjoying not only the many delicacies prepared by a dozen of Valinor's best cooks, but also the jovial atmosphere that reigned within the Royal Family.

Perhaps more precious than the gifts he had brought was Arafinwë's laughter, his playful banter directed at just about everyone within reach. Though his sons had all but one reached their majority and claimed their own little audiences with both the magnetism of their beauty and the sharpness of their wit, the youngest of the High Princes remained the most sought after companion. Despite his years and his status, Arafinwë somehow managed to make everyone feel at ease in his presence, and even earn himself good-natured smiles from his elder, stern and proud brothers. But, to everyone's surprise, there had been no need for Arafinwë's efforts to ease the smoldering conflict that always threatened to ensue between Fëanaro and Nolofinwë. Not a drop of animosity could be felt between the two. Of course, Fëanaro had drawn all eyes to him whenever he walked by, spoke or danced with his or favorite son's wife. But, whenever he noticed that he had become the center of an audience, he skilfully redirected the attention to the celebrated host, claiming that it was Nolofinwë who deserved all the praise and admiration.

Much as Fëanaro's unusually friendly and flattering mood had intrigued him, Nolofinwë could only be inwardly grateful for it, and rejoice upon seeing their father's pride and joy written upon his fair, noble face. The King had rarely appeared so genuinely happy before, in the midst of all those he held so dear.

As the evening wore on and the celebration was in full swing, Nolofinwë brushed away all the things that he had first found unsettling. Even so, from time to time he could still notice that there was a strange gleam in Fëanaro's eyes whenever he felt his brother's fiery gaze upon him. But then, everything about Fëanaro appeared out of character, though his words did not feel false and his mirth did not seem feigned.

Odd glances passed between Fëanaro and Nolofinwë's eldest son, while Findekáno sat close to Maitimo, both exchanging small touches and whispered words that spoke volumes of their feelings for each other. True, it had been a blow to discover that Fëanaro's much coveted firstborn had captured Findekáno's heart since he was but a child and had Maitimo as his private tutor, but looking at the two of them, Nolofinwë could only feel his heart warmed by their radiant beauty, enhanced by the affection for each other that they did little to conceal.

Yet... what were those looks that passed between them and Fëanaro? And, when Findekáno's eyes were fixed on his uncle's face, why did he bear an expression that made him look more like Fëanaro's son than his own? Nolofinwë had to wonder. And, despite trying to shake the strange feeling off and wash it away with heady wine, he would soon find out.

It did not soothe Nolofinwë in any way to notice Carnistir refilling Turukáno's glass as often as possible, while drawing him into some fascinating conversation, that seemed to take them hours to finish. Nor did it make him feel better to see Arakáno sandwiched between those spirited twins, for Nolofinwë knew them to be as cunning as their youthful faces were innocent and fair. And, most unsettling... his beloved daughter appeared to be avidly listening to every word coming out of Tyelkormo's mouth, her eyes riveted on his exquisite features with such unchecked admiration that would make any parent feel uneasy.

But all the others seemed unaware of these interactions and simply enjoyed themselves. If Fëanaro saw, he waved it off with a knowing smirk an quickly brought up one of the countless topics of conversation that he was versed in. Thus, there was little Nolofinwë could do, or would do, indeed, but relax, take part in the merry-making and just bask in the relief that his family had decided to make peace and act nice for his sake and in his honor.

***

"Where are we going, Fëanaro?" Nolofinwë inquired, while trying to keep a steady pace and navigate the corridors of his father's home. Maitimo's tall lean frame did little to soothe the elder Elf's anxiety, as he walked carefully in his uncle's footsteps, warm hands covering Nolofinwë's eyes.

"You will soon find out." came the answer, in a rich, commanding voice. "Trust me." Fëanaro added, his tone a little softer.

"Trust us, father." Nolofinwë heard his son's soothing, melodic voice, as Findekáno stepped closer to him and took his right hand between his own. However assured Nolofinwë would have followed his son to the ends of the World, he could not say the same about his enigmatic half-brother.

Despite that, he kept moving, allowing himself to be guided to the left, then up some stairs, following another long corridor. The echoes of music and laughter from the celebration were faint there, only a rumor, but, if Nolofinwë had to admit it, he would have said that his attention was divided between the soft, steady steps of Fëanaro, in front of him, Maitimo's breath, just brushing his hair, and his own heart racing. His mind struggled against the wine inflicted haze that had descended upon him and had made him so quick to comply with Fëanaro's urgent and mysterious request.

Giving Findekáno's fingers a little squeeze, Nolofinwë made another attempt..

"Could you at least tell me where we are heading, so I can spare Maitimo the trouble of trying not to trip on me?"

He could clearly picture Fëanaro's grin, as he heard him chuckle. "No. Maitimo is not going to trip on you." As to confirm his father's words, Maitimo brushed Nolofinwë's temples with his thumbs. The intimate, delicate touch sent a jolt of surprise down Nolofinwë's spine, raising some alarming questions along the way. But Fëanaro continued, drawing his attention again: "I would tell you, yes, but that would ruin the surprise."

Not at all reassured by those words, Nolofinwë cursed himself inwardly, for not having paid attention to their route. Had he been more aware of where his steps were being guided, he would not have had the sinking feeling of being lost in a house he was acquainted with very well.

"You have a surprise for me." Nolofinwë stated rather than asked. At this, Fëanaro stopped and turned around swiftly, the motion bringing him face to face with his startled half-brother.

"I have a gift for you." Fëanaro spoke, nay, whispered, his face just inches away from Nolofiwe's, even if the later could not see him. He did, however, feel those incredibly warm hands cup his cheeks, meeting Maitimo's fingers.

Trapped like that, in the heat of their proximity, Nolofinwë could only gasp and weakly inquire: "What gift? Fëanaro, you have already given me one..."

"That may be, Nolofinwë, but beautiful jewelery you have, and plenty. What I want to give you..." He paused, and Nolofinwë could only guess that it must have been due to Maitimo's fingers brushing the back of his father's hands. "What we want to give you is of much higher value. And you will enjoy it much more than some trinket you can use to adorn your beauty with." Fëanaro concluded, moving just a little closer, and running his fingers over the firm line of Nolofinwë's jaw, down the smooth skin of his neck.

There was no misinterpreting that touch and Nolofinwë gasped, shocked by the possibility. He wished to look into Fëanaro's eyes, to read his intentions clearly, but, at the same time, he was also grateful for the cover of Maitimo's fingers, still robbing him of sight. Faced with what he imagined he could find in the smoldering depths of his brother's eyes, he did not trust himself and his reactions.

So, Nolofinwë only gasped and whispered: "What?... Fëanaro, what are you doing? And why?... You are acting so strange, so unlike yourself!"

"Mmm... " hummed the Elf in front of him. "I should be offended that my jovial and friendly conduct have earned me so little appreciation. Strange, you say, and unlike myself? Perhaps you do not know me as well as you think. But I could show you... if you want me to..." Fëanaro's last words were a low, seductive whisper, as he leaned even closer.

There truly was no mistake in understanding those words. Feeling his heart fluttering madly and his treacherous knees about to give in, Nolofinwë reached up with his free hand, to clutch Fëanaro's silken robe.

"I... I don't know... Fëanaro." Nolofinwë breathed, but whatever words he would have wished to utter, they never escaped his lips the instant he felt Maitimo pressing himself fully against his tense body. At the same time, Findekáno squeezed his hand firmly. And Fëanaro came so close that Nolofinwë could feel his brother's breath falling upon his parted lips.

"Just trust me, brother." Fëanaro murmured, in a soft, feathery kiss. That and the intensity in the last word... 'brother', were Nolofinwë's undoing.

***

The door closed behind Nolofinwë with a thud and he could hear it being locked by one of his companions. Only then were his eyes uncovered and Maitimo moved away, letting his uncle blink several times. As his vision cleared, Nolofinwë looked around the chamber he had been brought to and he soon realized that it belonged to Fëanaro. Though spacious and artfully furnished, as were all the rooms in Finwë's palace, Fëanaro's quarters had an air of simplicity about them. Perhaps because so few of their occupant's belongings were to be found there: no paintings on the walls, no books on the shelves, only a few items of clothing hanging in the half-opened armoire and a box resting on the small table closest to the window.

Nolofinwë remembered how rare his elder brother's visits had been, of late, how few and far between were the times when Fëanaro would stay in Tirion, even over night. It was Finwë who took extended leaves from his home to travel outside the city and enjoy the company of his beloved son and his family, while Nolofinwë remained behind, charged with the responsibilities of his father's rule weighing heavily on his shoulders.

For those rare occasions when Fëanaro and his wife were seen at Finwë's dinner table, passing the night under the King's roof, Fëanaro had requested that their bedroom be furnished with a large bed. Said bed, of peculiar proportions indeed, though not four-posted as was the fancy of most couples to spend their nights in, dominated the wall opposite to where Nolofinwë was standing, trying to regain at least some of his composure.

His eyes fell on the form of his son, seated on the bed and smiling at him in an encouraging manner. Nolofinwë just stared and he was about to open his mouth and ask Findekáno one of the many questions that were burning in his mind, when he was distracted by the sounds of someone searching through a cabinet. Fëanaro's voice broke the silence:

"Well, is it better now? Knowing where you are..."

"This is your bedroom." Nolofinwë managed to reply.

"It is." Fëanaro agreed, while busying himself with some glasses and a bottle of wine. Maitimo was silent, leaning against the locked door and waiting.

"Why have you brought me here?" Nolofinwë demanded, hoping that his voice did not betray the anxiousness he was trying to conceal.

"I thought you might have guessed why." came the reply, but Fëanaro had his eyes set on the bottle he was uncorking and thus, he missed the rush of blood that instantly colored his half-brother's cheeks. But, sensing Nolofinwë's reaction, Fëanaro glanced over to the bed, giving Findekáno a pointed look.

"Father." said the young Elf, moving toward Nolofinwë and taking his hands again."You are much too tense. Relax and enjoy yourself. That is what we want and that is what we are here for."

Startled, and finally having heard enough slippery, insinuating talk, Nolofinwë pulled his hands away and snapped.

"Findekáno! What is the meaning of this? What are you implying? Answer me now!"

Unprepared for the harsh reaction, Findekáno took an involuntary step back and stole a pleading glance toward his uncle. He could not lie to his father, he didn't have the courage to play with his patience, nor was he the one appointed to seduce him. Lowering his gaze and fighting the shame that had begun to flush his cheeks, Findekáno remained quiet, expecting some help from either his cousin or his uncle.


II. Trust

Amused by the scene unfolding before his eyes, Fëanaro kept the silence, pondering on his next move and the best way to persuade his brother. Motioning to Maitimo that he should fill their glasses, Fëanaro cleared his throat and walked to where Nolofinwë was standing.

"Brother... you need not shout at your son. If anyone deserves to face your anger, that would be me." he spoke, in a calming voice, an honest smile lighting his features. "But it is not your wrath that we had a mind to rouse. Please, calm yourself and listen." he continued.

Nolofinwë frowned, looking Fëanaro up and down, his eyes finally resting on that flawless face. He worked up the courage to stare Fëanaro in the eye, surprised to find not a distant, often cold look there.

"I am listening." Nolofinwë replied sternly, straightening his back and adopting an almost challenging posture, ignoring the slight difference of height between them.

Biting back an ironic retort that nearly escaped him while looking at Nolofinwë's proud stance, Fëanaro simply nodded.

"All right. But you must promise me that you will not shout and walk out that door in a flush of pointless anger."

"I will decide whether my anger is pointless or not. Speak." Nolofinwë almost barked, forgetting himself for a moment and enjoying to opportunity to lash out at his half-brother.

Again, Fëanaro fought the urge to abandon his calm manners and make Nolofinwë bite back every harsh spoken word. But the mental image of how he would extract his retribution warmed his insides and he waved off the stirring of his own pride. Making his voice soft and his face pleading, Fëanaro said:

"Do you promise to listen?"

"Why is it so important that I give you my word?" Nolofinwë replied, feeling cornered once again.

"Because I will do nothing against your will and without your consent. Nolofinwë, I do not wish to argue. Believe me when I say this. Hear me out and then... if you decide that it's best to walk away, I will not hold it against you and we will never speak of it again."

The whole conversation would be testing his patience, Fëanaro decided, but realized that his legendary temper would not bring him any spoils. He waited for Nolofinwë's consent, quietly searching his half-brother's face for clues as to what was going on behind those blue eyes. Before Nolofinwë could speak, Findekáno tried to persuade him also, leaving behind his father's previous outburst.

"Atar, please listen to Fëanaro." he spoke, deliberately calling his uncle by his name, and not their family relation. "I know his intentions and he is dearer to me all the more, for them."

His words earned Findekáno a heart-warming look from both Fëanaro and Maitimo, while his father only stared, amazed by his son's open declaration. He would have felt a pang of jealousy to hear that so much of his son's affection was directed to his half-brother, but the present situation was of far more concern.

"Tell me, Fëanaro. And you have my word that I will not make a scene." Nolofinwë finally agreed, knowing that there was little else he could do. That, and a little voice inside of him that spoke of an outrageous possibility, determined Nolofinwë to play along.

Aware of how likely it was to see Nolofinwë making a scene, but of a very different kind than the one his half-brother was envisioning, Fëanaro took a deep breath and voiced his intentions, struggling to keep his words steady and his tone both pleading and seducing.

"I want to make love to you, Nolofinwë. I want to hold you so close that your heartbeat becomes mine. I want to taste you, all of you. I want our bodies to merge and I want to see you swept away by the burning desire that will melt both of us. I want you."

The passionate speech was met with a gasp and Nolofinwë's eyes shot wide open. For a few moments, all that he could do was swallow painfully, unable to believe what he had just heard. He shook his head, closed his eyes and opened them again, faced with the same beautiful, haunting image of Fëanaro's pleading expression. Those incredible works echoed in his mind and made his body react, while his will was still numbed. Could it be that?... Was it true?... And if so.. could he... what should he say? How should he respond?

His three companions exchanged quick looks that went un-noticed by the deeply troubled Nolofinwë. While he watched his father, Findekáno was wondering whether he had mistaken Nolofinwë's desire. He began to doubt his belief that, under all the pent-up anger, behind all the envy and the frustration that Nolofinwë could not always hide under the mask of perfect politeness, his father actually longed to win Fëanaro's appreciation and even his love. Perhaps he had taken things too far, too fast by suggesting to both his uncle and his cousin to make real a plan which appeared like a terrible outrage, judging by the bewilderment on Nolofinwë's face.

Maitimo had finished filling the glasses and bit his lip hard, not to issue any betraying sound, as he was deeply touched by his father's husky words. Despite his uncle's awed expression and Findekáno's anxious look, he just smiled, confident that no sane Elf would ever dream of saying "No" to such a tempting offer from none other than the great Fëanaro. Maitimo could sense that his father had little doubt as to the outcome of the conversation, most of his effort being aimed at willing himself not to pounce on the beautiful, tempting display that Nolofinwë offered in his vulnerability.

After a few moments of silence, while Nolofinwë was assaulted by more questions than he could handle, only one word escaped his parted lips: "Why?"

Whether the simple question surprised him or not, Fëanaro showed no sign of it. His smile never wavered and his eyes took on a spark of passion that made Nolofinwë's knees go weak.

"Why not, my brother? Why should I not desire you? Are you not breathtakingly beautiful? Are your wisdom and your royal bearing not worthy of worship? Are we not kindred spirits, you and I, even if we antagonize like fools? How could I not want you, Nolofinwë?" Fëanaro asked, voicing words that he had long pondered on.

Un-noticed by the two brothers, Maitimo approached Findekáno and handed him a glass of dark-red wine, mouthing the words "He's good!" and pointing in Fëanaro's direction. The younger of the cousins smiled and took a long sip, amazed by the lighthearted amusement that Maitimo displayed in regards to the emotional scene.

Meanwhile, Nolofinwë felt his head spinning, his mouth going dry and his knees giving in. He reached a shaking hand to clutch Fëanaro's robe, just above his brother's heart. He could feel the steady beat and that caused a feeling of dread to creep up his spine. Fëanaro seemed even more composed than usual, only his eyes speaking volumes of what Nolofinwë both feared and ached to believe. He gave his brother an imploring look, silently begging Fëanaro not to toy with him.

"You mean it?..." Nolofinwë found his voice, at last, though it was little more than a whisper. He instantly wished he did not look so vulnerable and cursed himself inwardly for being so weak.

Fëanaro only nodded, aware of Nolofinwë's inner turmoil. He covered his brother's hand with his own, both pressing against his chest, and opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut short by Nolofinwë pulling away abruptly and bursting:

"Don't do this, Fëanaro! Don't say things unless you mean them, and don't prey on my weakness just to amuse yourself." Nolofinwë said and whirled away, heading straight to the cabinet and drinking a whole glass of wine in one swing. He turned to face all three Elves that were staring at him and his eyes shifted form one to the other, perhaps looking for some sort of confirmation that he was being fooled. Ignoring Fëanaro's desire to speak and the pained look on his face, Nolofinwë sought his son's eyes, feeling that he could at least trust Findekáno.

"Tell me, my son, why are you doing this?" he inquired, anxiously searching Findekáno's face for any sign of guilt. But the young Elf displayed only a gentle smile, as he answered.

"For you, Atar. I know you want it. And I trust Fëanaro. I do not doubt him and neither should you. Every word he speaks is the truth."

"It is." Fëanaro quickly cut in, before Nolofinwë had the chance to ask Findekáno anything else. "You doubt me and I understand that. It is my fault and I will not hold it against you. But trust Findekáno, at least. I love him as if he were my own child and he knows that I would not be here unless I truly wanted what I am asking you."

Nolofinwë's heart skipped a beat and the protective walls he had hastily erected around himself began to crumble as he heard his brother speaking about Findekáno. That Findekáno was as dear to Fëanaro as any of his seven sons he could not deny. That Findeknao had spoken to Fëanaro about what Nolofinwë believed to be his most intimate desires was unbelievable. He was torn between the urge to strike Findekáno for such an outrage and embrace him for having the courage to approach Fëanaro, where he had always failed. But, once more, the most pressing question was: "Why? Why now, Fëanaro?"

That, Fëanaro had certainly anticipated. He closed the space between him and Nolofinwë quickly and handed him the full glass of wine that would have been his.

"Why now?" he repeated the question, shrugging. "Why not before, you should ask.Why so late?...I don't know, Nolofinwë. For many reasons, I guess. Our families... the distance between us... Nolofinwë, I have made you feel that I think little of you, that you mean nothing to me but a relation that I tolerate for father's sake. No, don't say it is not so, because I know myself and I like to believe that I am mature enough to see my own mistakes. I have wronged you, even when we were young and you were just an innocent child seeking approval and affection. I have made you think that I hate you and there was a time when I must admit that I did wish you were never born. But now I see that my own insecurity has caused me to treat you that way."

Fëanaro paused, to pour himself a glass of wine and take a long sip, collecting his thoughts and looking for the strength to continue. Hearing such words, Nolofinwë could only hold his breath and pray that he was not only dreaming. He expected Fëanaro to snap out of whatever possessed him and change back to his old self any second. But his brother continued to speak in the same manner, a serious and intense loon on is face.

"You know me well enough to see that it is not easy for me to tell you these things. You must understand that it is hard for me to admit my faults and apologize, but I wish to have your trust, brother, and leave all that behind."

In the opposite side of the room, Findekáno was busy covering his mouth to suppress an exclamation of surprise. Despite all that he had spoken with his uncle and Maitimo, he had not expected to hear the proud Fëanaro saying such words. He truly cared, then, and he honestly wished to win Nolofinwë over, body and soul. Maitimo only nodded, gravely, though his fair face was touched by the mirth of a grin that he fought to hold back.

"Will you have faith in me, brother, or is it to late to ask for it?" Fëanaro finished, enveloping Nolofinwë in a longing gaze and holding his breath while waiting for the answer.

Nolofinwë shook his head and sighed, giving in. He put away his second empty glass and leaned toward Fëanaro, grasping his shoulders with both hands. He pressed his forehead against Fëanaro's cheek, closing his eyes and trying to hide the intense emotions raging through him.

"It is never too late, Fëanaro." he breathed and shuddered when he felt Fëanaro's arms encircling him and holding him close. A warm hand caressed his back and then tangled in his unbound hair, as Fëanaro pressed his lips against Nolofinwë's forehead and whispered:

"Thank you. Thank you, brother. For this, and for everything else, I will spare no effort in making sure you never regret your choice."

Nolofinwë raised his eyes to meet Fëanaro's and he nearly melted, to see the tender affection in his brother's gaze. It was then that he knew he would not be able or willing to say "no", regardless of what Fëanaro would ask of him. His emotional reaction caused Fëanaro to finally lose his firm self control and capture Nolofinwë's mouth in a sweet, promising kiss.

Across the room, Findekáno sighed and snuggled in Maitimo's arms. Fëanaro's eldest son caressed Findekáno's hair lovingly, but his gaze remained fixed upon the scene in front of him. As his father broke the kiss and squeezed Nolofinwë in a tight embrace, their eyes met. Fëanaro winked and Maitimo rolled his eyes, barely suppressing a snicker.


III. Temptation

Relieved that the hardest part was behind him, Fëanaro reluctantly removed his arms from around the body that felt so good, pressed against his own, and he cupped Nolofinwë's cheeks, making his brother look up. He met the dreamy look on Nolofinwë's face with an affectionate smile.

"This had better be real, Fëanaro." Nolofinwë murmured, while his hands slid down from his brother's shoulders, along his sides, gently caressing the fabric covering the warm body beneath.

"It is, my brother. And it's going to be so good that you will remember and cherish this begetting day like no other." Fëanaro teased.

"Mmm... Do I have your promise on that?" Nolofinwë played along, casting Fëanaro a shy glance and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, you have my promise, all right." Unable to resist, Fëanaro, leaned in for another long, breathtaking kiss, marveling at how willing his brother had become, once his anxiety had been laid to rest. He had to let go, though, remembering that the night was still young and so much was still to be done.

When he was free of the incredible hold Fëanaro had on his body and all of his senses, Nolofinwë regained a little of his composure, ignoring the alertness of his heartbeat and the swooning sensation that those kisses had inflicted upon him. He allowed Fëanaro to guide him to the bed, prepared to let him do anything he had in mind, as long as the closeness between them would not cease. To Nolofinwë's surprise and sudden unease, Fëanaro simply motioned him to sit on the bed. He did no join his brother, but remained standing in front of Nolofinwë, looking as good as a dream come true.

"You still did not tell me. Why now?" Nolofinwë spoke, hoping that he would learn some of Fëanaro's further intentions if he urged him to speak. The elder of the brothers shook his head and gave Nolofinwë a look of feigned misery.

"Ah, you want me to grovel a little more, don't you?" he asked Nolofinwë, but he did not wait for an answer before continuing. "No matter, I'll grovel, if it makes you feel better, though I was hoping that the time would be better spent."

"No, Fëanaro, I do not want you to grovel. Valar, I know that it's as painful for you as if you'd be cut in half. I'm just curious why you have chosen this moment to swipe me off my feet like this."

Those words caused Fëanaro to change his expression to an amused smile. He dropped to his knees, between Nolofinwë's parted legs and the motion caused the later to gasp. Fëanaro slipped his hands under the folds of his brother's blue, embroidered robe and he began caressing his slender, yet muscular legs that were covered only in a pair of thin leggings.

Nolofinwë's eyes shot wide open and he parted his lips to draw in a sharp breath. Feeling those warm hands slowly traveling up his calves, to his knees and then along the inside of his thighs, spreading them further, caused Nolofinwë to shudder. Heat gathered in his loins and desire began coursing through him faster than before.

His reactions were not lost on Fëanaro, who's smile turned into a seductive grin and he spoke--a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down Nolofinwë's spine.

"I want to swipe you off your feet now because it's your begetting day. Your moment to be cherished and pleased, Nolofinwë. I told you I have a special gift for you."

"Ah, the gift..." Nolofinwë began, but his breath caught in his throat when he felt the other's fingers so close to his responding arousal. To his disappointment, however, Fëanaro removed his hands and rested his palms on his brother's knees, giving him a sly look.

"The gift that your son and mine have devised, for your enjoyment, Nolofinwë. It appears that our children are wiser than us and more practical, brother. They know better to follow their hearts and be close to each other than their fathers, who often act like two dogs that need to be muzzled in each other's presence."

Nolofinwë suddenly remembered that all his children appeared to be very close to Fëanaro's, but the thought was replaced by the curiosity to learn what Findekáno and Maitimo had in mind.

"Is that why they are here?" he asked, looking at the two, above Fëanaro's head.

"Well, yes..." Fëanaro began, but looking up at his brother's face, he saw his distraction. Nolofinwë's eyes had fallen on the arousing image of his son expertly caressing Maitimo. Both young Elves had removed their ceremonial robes and their thin undershirts were partly unbuttoned. Findekáno had slipped a hand beneath the white fabric of Maitimo's shirt and he was caressing and rubbing the soft skin of Maitimo's chest and abdomen. The taller Elf had tossed his head to one side and a cascade of waist long red hair fell freely down his shoulder.

A hiss escaped Maitimo's lips when Findekáno's fingers found one of his erect nipples and began rubbing it. It was more than Fëanaro needed to imagine what his son and his nephew were doing, even without looking back. Reluctant to spoil Maitimo's fun but unwilling to let him lose his composure so soon, Fëanaro called for his attention.

"Nelyo, you have heard your uncle. He wishes to know what your part in our surprise gift is."

Before squirming free of Findekáno's arousing touch, Maitimo shared a hungry kiss with his lover. Ignoring the tightness in his leggings, he came to sit behind his father, looking at Nolofinwë with an enigmatic smile.

The short respite that his companions had given Nolofinwë to recover himself was over. Maitimo rested both his hands on Fëanaro's shoulders and waited for a sign. His father clasped Nolofinwë's hands in his and earnestly asked him:

"Do you really want to do this, my brother? Are you sure?"

Nolofinwë nodded and firmly answered: "Yes."

For a few seconds, the brothers shared a intense gaze. Then, Nolofinwë was startled by Maitimo's voice.

"Look at me, Nolofinwë." the younger Elf demanded.

Nolofinwë was about to frown, hearing the way he was addressed, but when he met his nephews narrowed eyes and his usually jovial face set in a fierce look, the words died on his lips.

"I am doing this for you." Maitimo continued. "So watch me. Tell me if you like what you see, what you would like me to do, what you want to do yourself..." he finished in a low voice. While he had spoken his right hand had grabbed a fistful of his father's hair and he tugged, asking Fëanaro to get up.

Without a word, Fëanaro complied, raising himself slowly. His eyes sparked and his nostrils flared, when they met Nolofinwë's stunned face. The later gasped, and Fëanaro moaned when he felt Maitimo's tongue and lips leaving a hot trail on his neck, going up the curve of his elegant ear.

"Delicious..." Maitimo purred, snaking his tongue between moist lips and licking the tip of Fëanaro's ear. When he took it in his mouth and sucked, Fëanaro groaned and his hands flew to his son's hips, fingers digging in the firm muscles he encountered there.

One of Maitimo's hands supported his father's head, while he delivered his ministrations and the other made deft work of Fëanaro's robe, unclasping it at the throat and pulling up the fabric. Fëanaro moved away from the tormenting mouth and helped Maitimo divest him of his burgundy robe. Tossing aside the fine article of clothing, Maitimo turned his father around to face him and buried his fingers in Fëanaro's dark tresses, crushing his lips against the mouth that eagerly savored his kiss.

Fëanaro surrendered to the sensations that his son's hands and lips evoked, letting his body respond to the caresses. When he felt Maitimo's thumbs rubbing the sensitive tips of his ears, he issued a muffled moan, grinding against the firm body so close to his. They were both hard already, instinctively moving against each other.

Maitimo broke the kiss, inhaling deeply and exchanging a heated look with this father. He leaned in to lick Fëanaro's swollen lips, growling with desire, but he forced himself away from the tempting heat. Instead, he turned Fëanaro around, exposing him to Nolofinwë's hungry gaze again. He ran an appreciative hand along his father's strong, muscular torso, down his abdomen, to cover the generous bulge in his leggings. Maitimo smiled wickedly, looking Nolofinwë in the eye, as he felt the hot column of flesh rub against his hand.

Seated on the bed and watching the incredible display before him, Nolofinwë felt his heart rise in his throat and his blood pound madly in his ears. The two Elves locked in that passionate embrace were painfully beautiful and arousing. He watched Fëanaro cast him a fiery look, his eyes darkened with lust, before tossing his head back, on Maitimo's shoulder, and panting, as he rubbed himself against his son's hand.

"Do you like what you see?" Maitimo purred, once again exploring the exposed skin of his father's neck, biting and licking relentlessly. Fëanaro did not shy to express his delight vocally, writhing against Maitimo, his eyes closed in bliss.

Nolofinwë would have answered if his voice would have functioned normally. But he found the strength only to nod affirmatively, longing to be the one that made Fëanaro lose himself to pleasure like that. But he did not trust himself to stand on weak, shaking knees.

"Good." Maitimo said and snaked his free arm around Fëanaro's waist, stilling his father's movement. "Enough, Atar. Grab a chair and take a seat behind us." he bid Fëanaro in a voice that left little room for protest.

The elder Elf issued a disappointed sigh but complied. Nolofinwë watched Fëanaro smoothing his tangled hair and walking to the small table. While he did exactly as his son had demanded, Fëanaro kept his eyes on the floor, trying to regain some control over his senses. Despite having only played a little game of seduction, he found himself more aroused than he had intended to become. He reclined against the chair, legs spread and hands resting on his thighs, watching Maitimo.

The exotic red-head stripped himself of his white shirt and grabbed hold of a dazed Findekáno, giving him a similar treatment to the one he had inflicted upon his father just moments before. The young Elf whimpered, holding on to his lover, caressing the muscles of Maitimo's bare back.

"See to your father, Káno." Maitimo whispered in Findekáno's ear, before letting him go and returning to Fëanaro.

Aroused and amused, Findekáno slipped out of his light shoes and climbed on the high bed, kneeling behind his father. To Nolofinwë's surprise, Findekáno beckoned him to stand and removed his blue robe. Grateful to be free of the oppressive clothing, Nolofinwë reclined against his son's body, looking up at his fair, youthful face.

"Have you... have they done this before, Findekáno?" he asked, studying his son's features intently, aware of Findekáno's arousal.

"Only for me..." Findekáno purred, giving Nolofinwë a knowing look that the elder Elf had never seen of his sons face before. Shaken, Nolofinwë gaped and tried to collect his thoughts, asking Findekáno whether father and son were actually lovers.

The young Elf shook his head and smiled. "No, Atar, they are not. Maitimo is mine." he stated, sounding very confident. He was busy trying to calm his father and thus, he missed the fierce look that passed between Maitimo and Fëanaro. They both smirked, but the moment passed by and the exchange went unnoticed.

"Atar, you worry too much. Relax..." Findekáno urged him. "You are still so tense." he noticed and he began massaging Nolofinwë's shoulders. But, before he could truly relax and enjoy the way Findekáno's hands were working on his tense muscles, Maitimo called for Nolofinwë's attention again.

"I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me. You will have time to ask questions later. Now, tell me... do you want to see this shirt come off?" he inquired and leaned above Fëanaro, beginning to unbutton the light shirt and waiting for Nolofinwë's answer. "Well, do you?"

"Yes, I do." Nolofinwë said at last, trying to sound confident and demanding. His eyes sought Fëanaro's, but his brother remained meek, looking up at Maitimo, with an air of anxious expectation. He hardly blinked when Maitimo tore the shirt open, pulling at it forcefully. The delicate buttons flew and landed on the soft, rich carpet without a sound.

In a swift motion, Fëanaro was exposed and his ruined shirt was cast away. Maitimo stepped to the side and ran his fingers through his father's hair, beginning to appraise him as if Fëanaro were some exquisite work of art on display. As he spoke, his hands followed, teasing every bit of skin they encountered. When his mouth was added to the torment, Fëanaro did little to conceal his pleasure.

Watching them, Nolofinwë could no longer deny his own growing arousal. It was, indeed, as Maitimo was saying, everything about Fëanaro was flawless and appealing. The way he sat there, following all of Maitimo's requests, his fingers digging in the muscles of his own thighs, to prevent himself from reaching out to his son; that smoldering gaze that searched either Maitimo's eyes or Nolofinwë's face... everything about Fëanaro called out to Nolofinwë's senses and set them aflame.

Nolofinwë nodded and made to get up, when Maitimo inquired, in a sultry voice, as he kissed his way down Fëanaro's abdomen: "Do you not wish you were here, in my place?"

Fëanaro squirmed and his hands flew to his son's head, trying to gain some control over his tormentor. Immediately, Maitimo growled.

"Stay where you are, Nolofinwë, and I will let him come to you when I am done. And you, Atar, keep your hands where I can see them."

Nolofinwë sat back and frowned, wondering how could Fëanaro allow his son to treat him with such arrogance. Even if they were performing to entertain him, Nolofinwë could not understand how the polite and gentle Maitimo had become so rough and the haughty Fëanaro so meek and submissive. Perhaps the chip had not fallen as far from the block as everyone believed.

Fëanaro sighed and let his hands fall to his sides, while Maitimo deftly untied the laces of his leggings. A moan escaped his lips as he felt Maitimo's fingers slipping beneath the waistband and teasing the head of his arousal.

"If you were to kneel in front of him right now, and let your lips taste him, you would learn just how delicious he is." Maitimo spoke invitingly, while pulling the leggings down, over shapely hips and thighs. Fëanaro obligingly sat up, allowing Maitimo to divest him of the item, which he kicked away along with his soft, deer-skin shoes. When he was completely naked, Fëanaro remained standing and Maitimo moved to the side.

Silence fell as both Findekáno and Nolofinwë stared in wonder, their eyes roaming all over Fëanaro's body. It was amusing for Maitimo to see both his uncle and his cousin first gaping at his father's perfect form and then turning to each other, mouths open and eyes gleaming. It wasn't like they had not seen Fëanaro naked, before. True, they had not seen him so aroused, but still... the thought made Maitimo laugh silently.

He took the chair back to its initial place and then, he stood behind his father, who had not moved, but waited for Nolofinwë to say or do something else except stare. Being the tallest in their family, Maitimo stood two good inches above Fëanaro's height, but the difference was hardly noticeable when the younger Elf encircled his father's waist with both arms and kissed his shoulder. For a few moments, it became uncertain who was father and who was son, of the two. Maitimo's embrace spoke of care and tenderness and Fëanaro's features looked just as fair and youthful as his son's, when they smiled tenderly at each other. Then, Maitimo turned toward Nolofinwë once more.

"I take it you like what you see. Indeed, who could ever claim otherwise? Well, my dear uncle, here is your gift. You have but to hold out your hand and claim it. Do you want my father?" he asked, emphasizing his last words.

Nolofinwë shook himself out of the awe that had taken over him and smiled, shooting Fëanaro a hungry gaze.

"I don't think you need to ask" he said.

"He does. I do." Fëanaro spoke in a throaty voice, after having kept quiet for so long. "I need to ask you, brother. I need to hear you say it and be sure, because you will have me and I don't want you to regret anything."

"I will not regret anything. And I want you, yes... come and see for yourself just how much I want you." Nolofinwë boldly answered, realizing that it depended only on him to make real the fantasy that he had been living in all evening. Aided by Findekáno, he quickly removed his shirt and held out his hand.

Fëanaro brought both his son's hands to his lips, before walking out of his embrace and whispering: "Then you shall have me."


IV. Build-up

Encouraged by his own resolve, Nolofinwë sat up, welcoming Fëanaro in his arms as soon as the distance between them was closed. He caressed Fëanaro's face, his lips and his smile, as they both felt their bodies coming in electrifying contact.

"I want you to promise me that you will not regret anything either, Fëanaro"

"I promise. How could I regret it when I want this so much?... Please, let me show you." Fëanaro answered in a pleading tone. Nolofinwë was tempted to say that he could already feel how much, but the genuine emotion that he could see in his brother's eyes chased away the desire to tease. Fëanaro seemed truly vulnerable, despite the strong embrace he held Nolofinwë in, as though he were still unsure whether his brother would really accept him.

"Show me..." Nolofinwë breathed and he pressed his lips against Fëanaro's, making the decisive move.

Their kiss was slow and searching, at first. Neither wanted to rush it as both were eager to learn each other's taste and feel. The embrace became more passionate as wandering hands caressed smooth, hot skin, moving over the unfamiliar planes and valleys of artfully built bodies. Their lips never truly parted, even as they tried to breathe, whispering each other's names.

When he felt himself being lowered on the bed, Nolofinwë did not protest, but welcomed Fëanaro's weight and his heat on top of him. Their bodies were so close, skin pressing against heated skin and throbbing arousals rubbing against each other. In the passionate embrace, both gave and took, exploiting each other's most sensitive spots with a patience that was fast wearing out and making way for the urgency of burning desire.

Nolofinwë eyes eagerly followed Fëanaro's movements when his brother slid down his body and began removing his uncomfortable leggings. He tried to bite back a yelp of pleasure, when Fëanaro reached beneath the fabric and began to slowly caress his stiff arousal. But the blissful touch made him cry out anyway, much to Fëanaro's satisfaction.

The leggings were quickly removed and Fëanaro came back, on top of him, leaving a hot trail of kisses on the inside of Nolofinwë's thighs. The younger of the brothers whimpered, spreading his legs and arching his back, rising in a silent and convincing plea. But Fëanaro slid further up his body, making Nolofinwë squirm under his lips and tongue, until they were facing each other again.

"I want to be inside you." Fëanaro said, in a low, husky tone, cupping his brother's face with both hands and keeping their eyes locked. "I need it." he murmured, swallowing the rest of the sentence at the last moment. He had wanted to say "I need to make you mine", but even in the throes of passion, Fëanaro could not forget that his brother's pride was only a fraction smaller than his own and he could not make the mistake of claiming him so soon. The movement of his hips and the pulsing of his arousal, trapped between them spoke volumes about Fëanaro's need, but he fought to regain mastery over his senses and wait for Nolofinwë's reaction.

The words Fëanaro had spoken caused Nolofinwë's heart to rise in his throat and his whole body tensed. Could he let Fëanaro do what he had so wantonly expressed? Should he not be the one to take, rather than be taken? Would Fëanaro accept his body to be mastered like that? Would Nolofinwë dare ask for such a thing?

His stillness and his silence brought a look of concern on Fëanaro's face. "Forgive me... I do not mean to hurt you and I will only do what you desire me to. Please believe me, and let me know what you want." he spoke, and the tender look in his eyes warmed Nolofinwë's heart.

"I want you." he whispered and ran his hands over Fëanaro's back, pressing him even closer.

"Have you done this before?" Fëanaro insisted, fighting the surge of lust that Nolofinwë's movement had caused.

"Yes, I have." the other nodded. He was rewarded with a grimace that Fëanaro could not suppress on time and Nolofinwë wanted to laugh out loud, realizing that Fëanaro was actually bothered by the thought of his brother being possessed by another male. As in not himself.

The moment of triumph was followed by Nolofinwë's impulse to ask his brother what in Ea had made him believe that he had any claim on him? What had made Fëanaro assume that Nolofinwë would not have had any other lovers? Was he supposed to wait for Fëanaro, until the reclusive and stubborn Elf would suddenly decide: "Hey, I want to have my brother" and then expect Nolofinwë to simply jump at the opportunity? The angry Nolofinwë, who had been hurt so many times, surfaced and wanted to scream: "What makes you think I have saved myself for you and I should receive you with open arms? I have my own life, my own friends and lovers, my own wife who still welcomes me in her bed, unlike yours! Why are you so convinced that everything revolves around you?"

He wanted to say all these things, to make Fëanaro pay for all the times he had made Nolofinwë hide behind closed doors and cry. But the glimpse of annoyance quickly left Fëanaro's face and he grinned.

"Good. Then you will enjoy it as much as I want you to."

Before Nolofinwë could answer, or, rather stare, surprised by yet another change in his brother's unpredictable behaviour, Fëanaro closed the small distance between them and kissed Nolofinwë, slowly, making him open up, just as his body yielded to Fëanaro's caresses.

All the angry thoughts left him, as Nolofinwë's senses were set aflame again, and his last shreds of control quickly vanished. Fëanaro spoke no longer, but played his brother's body like a fine tuned instrument, making him burn with desire, until he was indeed more than willing to be taken.

If he was truly bothered by the fact that Nolofinwë's beautiful body had been plundered by another before, Fëanaro spoke nothing of it and thought of it even less. All his attention was focused on making his brother quiver with need, his cries causing Fëanaro's aching member to respond, reminding him of his own unfulfilled desire.

Near the bed's head-board, Maitimo and Findekáno had stopped their frantic exploration of each other's bodies, and turned to watch Nolofinwë. The elder Elf's wanton display knocked the breath out of both cousins. Maitimo, who had knelt in front of his lover and had been busy covering Findekáno's abdomen with lavish kisses, reluctantly tore his eyes away from the magnificent sight and looked up to meet Findekáno's big, bright eyes.

"He is beautiful." the read-head whispered. "But then... you are your father's son, my love, so of course he is damn beautiful." Maitimo continued, amused by the huge smile spread on Findekáno's face. He gave his lover's pulsing arousal a few experimental strokes, making Findekáno whimper.

"You... are... your father's... son, too... Maitimo. And your...mmm...outrageous plan...seems to be working...just fine." the younger Elf panted, leaning against the wall and surrendering to the maddening caresses.

"Have any of my plans ever failed?" Maitimo sweetly inquired, before leaning in and snaking the tip of his tongue over the head of Findekáno's arousal. It made his lover moan loudly, craving for more.

"Ah, my love! You will be the death of me. I don't know how much longer I can take it. I want you so bad... you and your perfect plans... my beautiful genius!"

Findekáno's whimpering answer, punctuated with little exclamations of bliss, had Maitimo groaning, spurred on by his own raging desire to have Findeknao then and there. He stood up and swiftly reversed their positions, leaning against the wall. He took hold of Findekáno's right leg and wrapped it around his waist, supporting most of the younger Elf's weight, while claiming his mouth in a savage kiss.

When Findekáno's mouth traveled over his jaw and down his throat, Maitimo purred and crushed his lover closer to his heaving chest. His eyes fell on the sight of his father gently preparing Nolofinwë for their lovemaking. He watched Fëanaro pressing soothing kisses to Nolofinwë's knee, caressing the quivering thighs and murmuring soft words that Maitimo could not understand, as his fingers sought and found the spot within Nolofinwë that caused the sprawled Elf to scream and buck his hips. The oil's scent of lavender and musk reached Maitimo and he inhaled deeply.

Pressed against the wall, with Findekáno's hot mouth pouring even more fire in his veins and this ears filled with Nolofinwë's moans, Maitimo felt his head spinning and he groaned roughly.

This made Fëanaro's head turn and he searched his son's face. The sight of Maitimo and Findekáno all over each other caught his eye and had him staring for a few moments. Not quite sure if he was crossing the line, but aware that Nolofinwë's arousal had long passed the turning point, he released his brother and beckoned him to watch. Picking up the small vial from where he had discarded it, Fëanaro approached his son and his nephew. He ran his fingers over Findeknao's arched back, and the young Elf moaned, still covering Maitimo's skin with hot kisses.

"Nelyo... I want a taste." Fëanaro asked, while sneaking an arm between the two and gently pulling Findekáno to him.

Maitimo would have complained, but one fiery gaze was enough to convince him otherwise. He smiled and released Findekáno, then sat himself at Nolofinwë's side. Running his long fingers over the curves and valleys of Nolofinwë's torso, he watched the elder Elf responding. His smile grew, and he lowered himself to face Nolofinwë, speaking, as their lips touched.

"Now I know where Findekáno's irresistible beauty comes from. And I know why Atar is aching to have you."

Nolofinwë gasped, hearing Maitimo and feeling his hands upon him. He would have murmured something, but the mouth that had delivered such enticing words was busy coaxing him into a fevered kiss.

Findekáno watched his lover slip away and turn to his father with unease creeping up his spine. As Nolofinwë welcomed the kiss, stroking Maitimo's hair and pulling him closer, the young Elf felt the strong urge to yell and put an end to their game. Seeing Maitimo and Fëanaro toying with each other was one thing, but having his own father surrender to Maitimo's passionate caresses was another thing altogether. He was about to call for everything to stop, but strong arms were wrapped around him and a hot whisper bushed his ear.

"Turn around, my beautiful. Let them be, for a while, and turn to me."

The sultry voice made Findekáno start and goose bumps spread all over his skin, but he obeyed Fëanaro's demand, rubbing himself against the elder Elf's heated body, as he turned to face him. Looking into those pewter eyes that so few could tolerate without flinching, Findekáno could hardly believe the position he was in. He had, indeed, been the one to suggest the outrageous fantasy that they were so deeply involved in, at the moment. But, finding himself in the embrace of the Elf whom he respected and loved like a second father, Findekáno could not help being a little overwhelmed.

Fëanaro sensed the young Elf's conflicting thoughts and he smiled, loosening the hold on him. He caressed Findekáno's brow and cheek gently, soothing away the lines of worry on his face.

"Do not worry, Kano. You will have Maitimo back very soon. For now, I just want to taste you. I will prepare you for him." Fëanaro said, in a low whisper, lifting the vial of oil and smiling again. He watched as the young Elf's eyes widened and his full, tempting lips parted. Findekáno inhaled deeply and nodded his consent, to the unspoken question that he could see in Fëanaro's eyes.

"Will you do the same for me?" Fëanaro inquired, tilting his head to one side, looking playful and almost innocent.

"I will." Findekáno murmured, taking the vial and uncorking it, with trembling fingers. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing, closing all the alarming questions in a corner of his mind. He filled his palm with a generous amount of the vial's content and searched Fëanaro's eyes, waiting.

Despite the thrill that ran down his spine while watching Findekáno, the elder Elf willed himself to remain as composed as possible, despite his throbbing erection that pointed demandingly between them. He put the stopper back on the vial and let it slip to the floor. Locking eyes with Findekáno, he covered the young Elf's oiled hand with his larger one, slicking his own palm and fingers. Then, he closed the distance between them and lowered their hands to Findekáno's arousal, meeting no resistance.

Findekáno gasped and closed his eyes when he felt his own fingers being wrapped around his stiff flesh. Fëanaro guided his hand up and down slowly. He wrapped his free arm around Findekáno's waist and brought their bodies pressing against each other.

The young Elf moaned, when Fëanaro rubbed his thumb over the tip of his aching member. Seizing the opportunity, he claimed Findekáno's mouth, slipping his tongue in the velvety depths, eager to discover and taste what had intoxicated his son. Findekáno responded, opening up to the conquering kiss, tempting Fëanaro all the more, and his companion suddenly understood the power Maitimo's addiction.

Deepening the fierce kiss, Fëanaro swiftly removed Findekáno's hand and replaced it with his own. The young Elf opened his eyes, whimpering, but he quickly shut them back again and voiced his delight when Fëanaro's hand worked on his throbbing length. As pleasure spread through him again, Findekáno's questioning thoughts fled and he gave in, no longer caring who delivered the strokes, as long as they did not stop. He moaned and whimpered, pushing into the heat that drove him on. He used the hand that was not trapped between his body and Fëanaro's to press the elder Elf's head against his own, never breaking their savage kiss.

Fëanaro's own arousal twitched and ached, responding to the mounting desire that Findekáno so openly displayed. When he could take it no longer, he pulled away from Findekáno long enough to breathe "Touch me..." upon his lips. A deep growl escaped him as Findekáno answered his plea and began stroking him. Slowly, at first, but growing bolder as the oil's heady scent filled the heated air between them and Fëanaro captured his mouth once again. They kissed and rubbed each other in sweet oblivion, muffling each other's moans, quite unable to hold back any longer. Findekáno's head swam in a haze of passion that made his body scream and move faster. And Fëanaro was shaken by such desire that he would have shouted: "Gods, Nelyo, I need to take him right now!" had his mouth been free to do so.

As soon as the enticing sounds of lovemaking reached his ears, Maitimo rose from Nolofinwë's embrace and both Elves looked to their left, where their companions were busy coaxing pleasure out of each other. Maitimo had to steady himself at the sight, both aroused and enraged, while Nolofinwë simply stared, unable to believe his eyes. He felt like screaming, jumping off the bed and tearing his son away from the possessive hold that Fëanaro had on him. He was shaken by the thought that father and son shared Findekáno between them, and used him like that. Anger colored his cheeks and he made to get up. Maitimo's hand on his shoulder, however, held him in place and Nolofinwë simply growled.

"Let me go."

"Sshhh, look." Maitimo bid him, somewhat comforted by the fact that his father appeared to be just as lost to desire as Findekáno certainly was. Indeed, Nolofinwë also noticed that his son was doing a mighty fine job at coaxing muffled cries out of his haughty uncle. Still, he called out:

"Fëanaro... Take your hands off him."

The words managed to reach him and Fëanaro tore his mouth away from his delicious tormentor, shaking his head and trying to focus on Nolofinwë's face. His passion cooled slightly as he read anger in his brother's eyes and he motioned for Findekáno to stop moving so wildly. Maitimo also rose and placed a hand on Findekáno's shoulder, who's skin glistened, covered with a fine sheen of sweat.

"Káno... Káno, my love, you are having too much fun." Maitimo spoke, as he attempted to pull Findekáno away from Fëanaro's burning embrace. The young Elf purred, one hand reaching out for Maitimo, while the other still stroked Fëanaro's slick, rigid length.

"Atar..." Maitimo warned, causing Fëanaro to meet his eyes and smile, wickedly.

"Yes, I am also having too much fun." he added, causing his son to shoot him an "I'll deal with you later" look. Maitimo pressed his right hand against his father's chest, pushing him away. He could feel the rumble of laughter building beneath his palm and his eyes narrowed.

Amused by the dirty look Maitimo had shot him, Fëanaro was about to tease his eldest son further, but the thought fled as soon as he could feel the palm pressing against his chest moving, in slow caresses.

"I agree with you, Nelyo... but Findekáno is so..." he paused, leaning in to steal one last kiss from his nephew's sweet lips. "Thank you, Findekáno." he murmured, releasing the young Elf who turned to Maitimo the instant he could no longer feel that hot hand coaxing such pleasure out of him.


V. Release

Reluctantly pulling away from Findekáno's fluttering caresses, Fëanaro returned his full attention to a panting and still angry Nolofinwë. They shared an intense gaze, before Fëanaro spoke softly:

"I did not mean to upset you, my brother. When I told you that I love Findekáno as I do my own flesh and blood, I did not speak idly. I would never hurt him or do anything that would upset him in any way. My son and yours belong to each other only. And that is good, because I want you." he finished in a husky voice.

Nolofinwë blinked, stunned by the sudden changes in Fëanaro's mood and appearance, once more. He made to answer, but Fëanaro was instantly upon him, pressing him back on the bed and enveloping him in his intoxicating heat. Coaxing Nolofinwë to meet the force of his passion, Fëanaro subdued his anger and had him writhing again. He rose and knelt on the edge of the bed, waiting for one sign, one last confirmation that his brother was indeed willing to submit. The later simply spread his legs and licked his lips.

Caressing the muscular thighs that were parted for him in such a tempting display, Fëanaro wrapped those long legs around his waist and effortlessly lifted Nolofinwë, to gain a better position. Moving slowly, he began to ease himself into the tight heat, all the while searching Nolofinwë's face for every little reaction.

The knot of fear that had accompanied his mounting arousal, settling itself in the pit of his stomach, sent cold shivers down Nolofinwë's spine. He tensed, and squeezed against the invasion, causing Fëanaro to grunt and stop, a look of honest concern replacing the grimace of concentration he had worn just seconds before.

"I'm sorry" he broke out. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to hurt you."

He made to pull out, but the legs around his waist tightened their embrace and held him close. Nolofinwë breathed deeply, willing himself to relax, while pleading with Fëanaro not to stop.

"I want this to be good for you. I want you to enjoy it." Fëanaro spoke in a soft voice, battling his own desire to just plunge into the body beneath him and ease the fire that he had restrained for so long. "Relax... relax and let me please you." he murmured, running both hands over the tense muscles of Nolofinwë's thighs. Still, he did not move, but, drawing in a sharp breath, he called for Nelyo.

His son had not been sitting idle in the mean time. After reclaiming Findekáno's full attention, Nelyo had begun a dance of kisses and feverish caresses that had both of them panting and moaning. Fighting the urge to push Findekáno on the bed, next to his father, and ravish him furiously, Maitimo had settled for lifting him to sit on the table. Pressed close, they were grinding against each other, both slick with the scented oil and their own mixing fluids. Sweet words of endearment passed between them, lost in the hot air that they breathed from each other's lips. They toyed with one another and waited for Fëanaro's word, as planned.

When word came, Maitimo moved away with a regretful sigh and a small apologetic smile, turning to meet his father's eyes. They did not need to exchange any words and one look at the motionless Elves in front of him told Nelyo what he had to do. He shook his head, still bewildered by what they were doing, but he willed himself to play his part as expertly as he was known and expected to. Eyes narrowed in a predatory look, he asked Nolofinwë not to lose sight of him for one second.

"Keep your eyes on me, Nolofinwë." he almost growled, slipping into the commanding role again. "Focus only on my touch, on my lips... on me." He finished and, by that time, he had already bent himself above Nolofinwë and taken him in one hand. His mouth quickly followed and he began laving the throbbing organ, savoring the taste that was uniquely Nolofinwë's and yet seemed somehow familiar.

Under such ministrations, Nolofinwë soon forgot his unease and relaxed, giving in and closing his eyes. Exhaling a gulp of air that he had trapped behind clenched teeth, Fëanaro also began to move, sensing the grip on his body growing less fierce. Seeing Nelyo's lips and tongue making deft work of Nolofinwë's pulsing arousal was too much to handle, so he tore his eyes away from the intoxicating sight and thrust forward just a little faster.

Nolofinwë cried out when he felt himself stretched and filled, but the pleasure that expert mouth delivered quickly spread through him. To distract him even further, Nelyo stopped, only to remind him to keep watching. Rubbing the painfully aroused flesh with one hand, Maitimo continued to tease only the crown, tongue darting between moist, soft lips.

Nolofinwë watched and whimpered, his hips jerking upwards, seeking the furtive touches. In his turn, Fëanaro moved, rocked back and forth in shallow thrusts at first, but growing bolder with each one. When he angled his hips and plunged in, Nolofinwë's keening cry told him that he had met his target. However hard it was becoming to restrain himself, Fëanaro kept the pace slow and his thrusts varied, prolonging the agonizing pleasure.

Intoxicated by the display in front of him, Findekáno could hold back no longer. And, if avidly watching Maitimo's ministrations had caused his arousal to weep, his father's cry sent such a jolt of pleasure through him, that he could no longer stay away.

He quickly took advantage of Maitimo's prone position that displayed his glorious backside. Pouring some oil on his fingers, he sought and found the spot inside his lover's body, that caused Maitimo to gasp and call his name.

The frustration of having seen Maitimo pleasuring both their fathers, while he ached and yearned for his touch, drove Findekáno to take his lover roughly, sheathing himself in one smooth motion.

Maitimo threw his head back and screamed, causing all of them to stop. But he voiced less pain and more pleasure, finishing the outburst in a deep, loud moan. Fëanaro ran a soothing hand over his son's arched back, while Findekáno reached between his legs to massage the erection Maitimo had been unconsciously rubbing against the sheets.

While Maitimo was steadying himself and pressing backwards, to meet the body he knew so well, Fëanaro tangled his fingers in the mass of flowing, red hair and motioned his son to meet his eyes. Resisting the desire to break free of Nolofinwë's hold and capture Maitimo's mouth in a searing kiss, he smiled at him lovingly.

"Work with me, Nelyo." he spoke, in a throaty whisper, gently pressing Maitimo's head down and back to the glistening arousal that ached for his attention.

Maitimo did not need any guiding to match his father's thrusts, while being furiously ridden by Findekáno. An intense, growing rhythm was set to their movement and each one let go of his restraint, racing towards release.

Findekáno breathed sharply every few seconds, losing himself quickly. As fast as he pistoned his hips, he also stroked the slick shaft in his hand, pushing Maitimo closer and closer to the edge. The prone Elf moaned and hummed louder, all of his senses reeling, barely aware of anything else save his own raging desire.

In his turn, Nolofinwë was lost to pleasure, gripping the sheets fiercely, unwilling to take hold of Maitimo's bobbing head and ride that sweet mouth even faster. He was gripped instead, an pounded into with an intensity that made him whimper, toss his head wildly from side to side and lift his hips to meet both sources of mind-numbing pleasure.

And Fëanaro was finally able to deliver a maddening pace, abandoning himself to the fire that had taken over, burning wildly behind his closed eyelids. Hoarse groans announced his nearing climax, but he opened his eyes and fought it, delaying it just a little longer.

It was not long before the frantic lovemaking reached its culminating point. Nelyo was the first one who ceased all motion, his body as tense as a drawn bow string and glowing from all the exertion. He convulsed and exploded in Findekáno's hand, releasing a long, exhausted moan. He had as much of Nolofinwë's pulsing flesh in his mouth as he could take and, as he moaned, the vibration sent Nolofinwë over the edge too. Fighting for breath, Maitimo drank every drop, aftershocks of pleasure causing him to writhe and clench around Findekáno.

As he heard his father's keening cry of release and saw him panting, shaking with each thrust that still split him, Findekáno pushed himself forward forcefully, one last time. Tight muscles squeezed around him and he screamed, wrapping an arm around Maitimo and resting his head on the glistening skin of his shoulder. He bit the tender flesh, muffling his passionate cries.

Determined to hold back until all three of them had climaxed, Fëanaro smiled and finally stopped thrusting. Buried to the hilt, he allowed Nolofinwë's spasming muscles to carry him to the end. He tossed his head back and opened his mouth, but no cry was heard. For a few seconds his vision was blurred, white-hot flames coursing through him. He lost himself to the overwhelming sensation, almost sure that it would consume him.

A few minutes passed by in silence, punctuated only by heavy breathing and satisfied moans. When he felt recovered enough to speak, Fëanaro ran an appreciative eye over the exhausted forms of his companions, resting his gaze on Nolofinwë's glowing face and his delightful, huge smile. The brothers shared one intense, silent look, before Fëanaro tore his eyes away and turned to Maitimo.

His son's head was resting on Nolofinwë's abdomen, rising and falling with the later's deep breathing. Findekáno held him tight, soothing the angry mark that he had inflicted on the flawless skin of his shoulder. Sensing that Fëanaro's eyes sought his, Maitimo gazed upwards, a lazy, satisfied grin spread on his beautiful face. Father and son smiled at each other for a few moments and then Fëanaro reached out to caress Maitimo's cheek. He gently cupped his chin and motioned him to rise, while lowering himself so that their lips could meet. That slow, burning kiss spoke volumes of the love and gratitude that father and son felt for each other.

Before breaking free, Fëanaro licked those sweet, intoxicating lips and smiled, looking up, at Nolofinwë.

"You taste good, my brother" he purred. "Very good."

Maitimo voiced his agreement by a low hum, pressing a kiss on the heated skin that his cheek was resting against. And Nolofinwë could only swallow, staring with huge, blue eyes at what he had never dreamed he could ever see.

Fëanaro flashed him a dazzling smile and proceeded to disentangle himself from the powerful grip Nolofinwë still had on his sated body. On slightly shaky legs, he walked to his almost empty armoire and started rummaging for something on the bottom shelf. Placing the soft blanket that he had found on a nearby chair, he continued his parade around the room, wearing nothing but a cascade of tangled ebony tresses and a huge grin upon his handsome face.

After a quick perusal of the bathroom, Fëanaro returned, somewhat more composed and in control of his tingling senses, carrying a towel. And the same, silly grin. Tossing the white piece of cloth in Findekáno's direction, he locked eyes with a rather sleepy Nolofinwë. The younger of the brothers felt himself still floating upon the aftermath waves of pleasure, his body over-sensitized but relaxed, and his mind refusing to ask or answer any questions but one: "Why is Fëanaro still standing there?"

Promptly, as though he could read his thoughts--and a part of Nolofinwë entertained the idea that he actually could--Fëanaro lowered himself at his side.

"You look sleepy..." he said, while caressing Nolofinwë's neck and shoulder, running his fingers through soft, damp hair. A lazy smile accompanied the other's affirmative purr.

"You look deliciously sleepy, brother." Fëanaro continued. "And so you should. It has been an eventful day." he mused, before gently pressing his lips against Nolofinwë's. The eager response made him smile inwardly and strange butterflies roamed through his stomach for an instant.

Fëanaro broke the kiss, only to extend his attention to the smooth skin of his companion's jaw, leaving a trail of delicate kisses on his way.

"What about you, Fëanaro? Do you ever tire?" Nolofinwë breathed, encircling the strong body on top of him with heavy arms, his skin tingling at the heated contact.

"No... Never." Fëanaro replied, hiding his grin in the cinnamon scented mass of silky hair that pooled above Nolofinwë's shoulder. He nuzzled the skin of Nolofinwë's neck, tenderly soothing a small bruise he had inflicted during their previous fierce embraces. He wondered how Nolofinwë would explain the mark or, more likely, how he would conceal it. Tempted to bite again, harder and in a place more exposed, Fëanaro shook his head and rolled away from Nolofinwë, on the right side of the bed.

As he turned his head, instinctively making way for Fëanaro's caresses, Nolofinwë's eyes fell upon his son's face. Findekáno was smiling, a content, dreamy look on his youthful face. Maitimo had reversed their positions and had settled himself behind his beloved, taking him in a protective embrace, both of them facing their fathers. Half of the velvety blanket that Fëanaro had found was covering the young Elves, while the other half lay crumpled against Nolofinwë's thigh.

Warmth spread through the elder Elf as he could see the tenderness in their embrace. His heart was filled with joy and affection for Maitimo, to see him shifting even closer, embracing Findekáno so tenderly and pressing kisses on his soft, midnight hair. So Nolofinwë enveloped them in a loving gaze and both cousins smiled, happy and grateful.

Thus distracted, it took Nolofinwë a few moments to realize that the warmth on top him was gone and the delicious hisses had ceased. He turned his head to his right and saw Fëanaro beside him, arm bent beneath his head, wearing an expression that was impossible to define. The distant look, however, was chased away quickly by a gentle smile, as soon as Fëanaro could feel Nolofinwë's eyes upon him.

"I believe our sons want to rest." he spoke softly, a hint of amusement in his voice."Don't you, young ones?"

"Yes..." Findekáno murmured.

"Quite." came Maitimo's reply, muffled by the fact that he kept his face buried in Findekáno's hair.

"Well, then, so shall we." Fëanaro concluded, raising his eyebrows in feigned helplessness. The next question, though, came in a low voice, laced with unconcealed emotion: "Will you sleep in my arms tonight, brother?"

As if the craving to nestle himself as close to Fëanaro as possible, to feel him and know that their fleeting moment of passion had meant something for him also, were not enough... Fëanaro had called him "brother" again. Feeling young once more, insecure and desperate to win his brother's affection, Nolofinwë quickly whispered his desire and moved to face Findekáno. He sighed, in utter joy, to feel himself immediately wrapped in Fëanaro's arms and held so very close. Their legs entwined and Fëanaro drew the cover over both of them, settling back on the pillow and issuing his own contended moan.

Dim light filled the silent room, but none of the four had the heart to rise and pull the curtains. They were only barely hanging on and not drifting into reverie.

"Thank you..." Nolofinwë whispered, relaxing completely and letting himself be enveloped by the arms of slumber as well.

"With... pleasure." Fëanaro answered, and Nolofinwë could feel his lips curving in a wicked grin, as the elder of the brothers still nuzzled his shoulder. The other two just smiled.

"Now I know, Findekáno." Nolofinwë added, reaching out to caress his son's cheek. The young Elf only nodded and kissed his father's palm, covering it with his own. Fingers entwined, they let their hands rest in the small space left between them. A few moments later, the only sounds filling the room were those of soft, regular breathing.

Two pairs of eyes, however, were still focused on each other. From above Findekáno's head, Maitimo stared intently at his father, who's face was partly hidden behind Nolofinwë's sleeping form. Stormy grey eyes blazed an bore into stormy grey eyes with frightening awareness.

"Do you understand now, Atar?" Maitimo silently inquired.

A short moment of intense waiting later, he could hear his father's answer, though no sound escaped Fëanaro's lips.

"Yes. Yes, Maitimo, I do.You now I understand everything the first time I experience it. But this... this I could investigate further."

The words were replaced by a broad smirk, and Maitimo had to suppress a chuckle, not to wake Findekáno. He winked, then closed his eyes, thus ending the silent exchange. Before drifting into reverie, he could still see his father's eyes sparkling with mirth.

THE END?...