Glorfindel lay on his side, carefully contemplating the
sleeping Elf beside him. Although Anor had risen in the sky and the
Last Homely House was beginning to stir, Erestor was still deep in slumber.
It may have had something to do with the fact that the Mirkwood delegation
had just left Imladris after nearly a week of gruelling negotiations.
The proud wood Elves, like their haughty king, were difficult to please but
had to be indulged if relations between the two realms were to remain cordial.
And Erestor, as Elrond's chief advisor, was the one responsible for ensuring
that no toes were stepped on and no rash statements were made. He had
risen to the challenge, as always, and his sharp mind and cool demeanour had
stood him in good stead throughout the entire ordeal. But the long week
had taken its toll, and he now slept, weary from the burden of office he
had shouldered so well.
Glorfindel looked at his lover, stretched out on his stomach in the wide
bed, and smiled. He liked Erestor this way, the way he looked when asleep,
the way no one else ever saw him. This was not the artful politician
capable of disarming incensed opponents with a well-placed phrase. Nor
was it the black-clad silent figure ever present at Elrond's side, forever
listening and assessing the situation. Nay, that Elf's features were
always schooled in a mask of carefully maintained indifference, watchful circumspection.
This Elf - the Elf softly breathing beside him - was unguarded and serene,
and looked trusting in his stillness. Lying there with black hair falling
into his eyes, his cheek slightly creased from the soft pillow, Erestor appeared
youthful, almost innocent.
He was also beautiful. The high cheekbones, pale skin, well-formed
body - Glorfindel took it all in and felt his desire stir. The light
sheet, carelessly draped over them both, covered little and left the lovely
advisor's body bare, open to Glorfindel's admiring gaze. The golden-haired
seneschal felt a lump in his throat at the thought of how vulnerable his lover
looked in his sleep; the iron-willed counsellor now all softness and curves.
The line of his back, the bend of an elbow, the arch of a narrow foot - they
all made Glorfindel want to reach his hand out and touch the loveliness spread
out before him.
And touch he did. Lightly at first, so as not to wake his sleeping
lover, Glorfindel let his fingers explore the planes of the other's body,
softly yielding and still warm from sleep. His hands mapped out the
strength of muscle, brushed the sharp contour of spine and lingered on the
curve of his buttocks - amazed that an Elf who was known for his abrasiveness
could be so velvety to the touch. The delicate paleness of the two round
globes under his fingertips brought a smile of amusement to Glorfindel's lips.
If those who faced the fearsome Erestor across the negotiating table ever
found out his bottom was as soft as the down of newly hatched ducklings they
would never quake under his intimidating stare again.
An impatient hand rose from the rumpled sheet and swatted Glorfindel's arm
as if it were a pesky fly.
".sleep." Erestor murmured, his eyes still unfocused, then burrowed deeper
into his pillow.
"Shh, love," murmured Glorfindel into a pointy ear, "I won't disturb your
rest. Let my hands soothe you. See? Gentle hands." And,
with that, he began to trace slow circles across the other's skin, barely
brushing it with his palms. Gradually, as Erestor relaxed and fell back
into reverie, his attentive lover increased the pressure of his touch, massaging
the pale Elf's flesh more firmly. The exhausted advisor did not stir.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Glorfindel quietly reached over to
the nightstand and retrieved a small bottle of oil. Coating his palms,
he resumed his ministrations, gradually letting his hands wander to the cleft
between the dark-haired Elf's parted thighs. At first his touch was
hesitant, then, more purposeful, as his questing fingers found, to their delight,
that Erestor truly was relaxed in his slumber. The advisor's unguarded
opening yielded easily under patient pressure, and Glorfindel's fingers gently
slipped within.
He took care to move his digits slowly, not wanting to overwhelm with sensation,
but trying rather to soothe the sleeping Elf into readiness. Unhurriedly
he probed, while tracing calming circles in the small of Erestor's back.
Finally, satisfied that his lulled partner was indeed prepared, he slicked
his eager erection and gently, ever so carefully, penetrated.
Fully sheathed, he stilled, and leaned over his lover, resting his forearms
on both sides of the sleeping one's back. Erestor shifted slightly,
half-aware that he was now quite securely pinned to the bed, and mumbled something
incoherent.
He must be more worn out than I realized, thought
Glorfindel, placing an affectionate kiss on the dark, tangled mane of the
one beneath him. Then, careful not to startle his lover into too-sudden
awareness, he began to move.
He pressed forward steadily, every shift of his hips measured and slow.
Leisurely he explored Erestor's taut passage, relishing the heat surrounding
him, enjoying the closeness of the other's warm back against his chest.
Closing his eyes, he lost himself to a gentle, even rhythm, stroking rather
than thrusting, caressing his sleeping lover from within.
Gradually, he felt Erestor stir, shifting in the tangled sheets and instinctively
arching his back to meet the tender intrusion. The sleepy advisor's
eyelashes fluttered and his dark eyes regained their focus. Half smiling,
he turned his head to look at the powerful Elf claiming him.
"Rake," he whispered, "I'm awake now. I suppose you're happy?"
"Good morning, love," Glorfindel answered, lightly nipping the tip of his
lover's ear, "Yes, waking you was my intention."
"Couldn't let me sleep, could you?"
"Not when there were more delicious things to be done, no," Glorfindel breathed
and slightly increased his momentum. "I couldn't resist you, lying there in
all your glory. So open, so trusting. All mine."
"You are a wicked Elf, Glorfindel," Erestor murmured, his eyes closed once
again and his breathing becoming shallow.
"I am?"
"I was right not to trust you when you first pursued me." The advisor arched
his back some more, moving in time with his lover now. "You're sneaky.
Always trying to catch me unguarded. Wanting to breach. my defences."
His voice hitched in his throat and he released his breath with a hiss.
"I can stop." Glorfindel's tone was teasing.
"No - please; keep on. breaching."
Glorfindel stifled a quiet laugh and applied himself to his task in earnest.
Still gentle and steady, he now rocked with more force, determined to bring
them both toward a shared climax. Erestor rose up to meet him, giving
as much as he took, surrendering his body completely to his lover's attentions.
Both Elves were quiet now, intent on pursuing the course that Glorfindel
had set. They strove in tandem, breathing slowly becoming ragged, grace
giving way to more feverish movements. The quiet of the bedchamber was
disturbed only by the soft creak of the bed and the occasional quiet whimper.
When orgasm finally claimed them, they did not cry out, but let pleasure
wash over them in silence, Glorfindel stilling his quivering thighs, buttocks
tensed; Erestor burying his head in his pillow, mouth agape.
"You can go back to sleep now if you want," Glorfindel whispered into his
lover's hair, hands gently stroking a narrow hip.
".mhmm." Erestor was already there, curled up on his side, one palm balled
into a tight fist in the manner of a small child.
Smiling at the sight before him, Glorfindel nestled close to the tired Elf,
vowing to guard his well-deserved rest, even from scoundrels like himself.
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