Faramir Fiction Archive

To Learn You All Over Again (NC-17)

Written by Faramir_Boromir

16 September 2004 | 45422 words | Work in Progress

Title: To Learn You All Over Again: Bond of Blood
By: Faramir_boromir
Pairing: Faramir/Boromir
Part: 2/?? of To Learn You All Over Again
Rated: NC-17
Warnings: Brotherly incest. Also, blood (not for the squeamish). Hurt/comfort. If this bothers you, read no further.
Archive: Just ask, I’ll probably say yes.
Disclaimer: If I owned the characters, my name would be Tolkien. It isn’t. They’re not. All homage to JRRT, but I’m sure he’d be spinning in his grave if he read this. Sorry.
Synopsis: The consequences of a rushed first encounter (see Part One). Boromir & Faramir develop a better understanding and new set of rules for their evolving relationship.

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Bond of Blood

“Faramir?” he whispered, concern in his voice, as he felt Faramir tremble once more.
“What, love?” came the somewhat broken reply from beneath him.
Have I hurt him? Please, no. I didn’t mean to. Faramir, forgive me. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted you too much.

Boromir had to know.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, waiting, fearing the worst, that his brother now despised him for inflicting pain in what should have been an act of love.

As if from afar, he heard Faramir say, in a voice choked with emotion, “I’m thinking, that it isn’t possible for me to love you more than at this moment.” A shudder, as he drew breath. “Boromir, please…please, don’t ever leave me.”

Boromir lay atop his brother, remembering his fear, when pain knifed through him. “Mmmh,” he heard Faramir groan, at almost the same moment. Pleasure spent, Boromir could sense his flesh contracting within his brother, and the pain came again—from the place where their two bodies were still connected. And at his slightest movement, Faramir cried again, though the sound was muffled. Something’s wrong.

Boromir began to remove his dwindling member from his brother, and with every movement, the agony increased. Gods, what have I done? Unnhhh. Pain. Boromir sat up, just enough to look down between their two bodies, sweat still slick on Faramir’s back, his own chest its twin. The very motion of sitting up brought another stab of pain, but his shaft had finally withdrawn from Faramir, and he looked down. With only faint firelight, it was hard to see, but he could see enough.

Blood. Blood everywhere.

The water was not sufficient. I should have known. The abrasions he felt on his tenderest parts were not the worst. His removal had drawn another cry from Faramir.

“For pity’s sake, Faramir, you’re bleeding.”

“I thought…as much. It felt like you were twisting a knife inside me, at the end. But the pain’s less, now that you’re…gone.”

“I felt nothing wrong at first. Why didn’t you stop me? I didn’t—”

“I tried to. I called your name, when the pain seemed too much, but you did not answer.”

Without another word, Boromir stood up, snatched a blanket to wrap round his midsection, and strode to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something I should have thought of before.” Boromir opened the door, peered around the corner, then hurried across the hall to his room, quietly shutting the door behind him. The jar was on the table, next to where he hung his sword and round shield. Grabbing it, and a cloth from his washbasin, Boromir went back to the door, opened it a fraction, and glanced up and down the passage. Closing his own door softly, he crossed the hall and reentered Faramir’s room, sliding the lock into place.

He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, saying, “I’m a fool, Faramir. I’ve hurt you because I did not stop to think.” Boromir took the cloth, dunked it in the water jug, wrung the water out, and started to clean the reddened flesh of his brother’s rear. So much blood. Why didn’t I hear you?

“Boromir—”

“Faramir, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. All I could feel—”

“Boromir, stop. Yes, it hurts, but no, don’t apologize. I wanted this. I wanted to feel you within me.”

“Not like this.” Boromir had risen again, located Faramir’s washbasin, and brought it to the bedside. The blood from the cloth turned the basin water red. “Not like this. I’ll never forgive—”

“You will. You must. I do not blame you. For once, I have seen my brother’s passion. It is worth the pain, worth much more pain than this, to have shared that with you.” Faramir rolled onto his side, reached out a hand, placing it on top of Boromir’s. His brother’s hands were shaking slightly, Faramir noticed.

The gesture stopped Boromir, but he kept his eyes downcast. He’d hardly been able to look at Faramir’s face since he’d realized what he’d done.

Faramir raised a hand to Boromir’s chin, lifting his brother’s face so he could look into his eyes. The green eyes he loved so well…filled with remorse.

What startled Boromir was how much love he saw in Faramir’s face. He doesn’t hate me. Thank the Valar, he doesn’t hate me. And a little of the shame crept out of Boromir’s eyes.

Taking the cloth out of Boromir’s hands, Faramir began cleaning himself, so that Boromir only saw the cloth each time it was dipped in the basin. The water went dark, then a darker red, and Boromir sat thinking, hard. I’ve hurt him. How could I do such a thing, to him of all people? Every so often, he saw Faramir wince slightly, as he touched some tender place.

While he moved the cloth, Faramir spoke. “I don’t even have to ask. I know what you’re thinking; I’ve seen that look before. You’ve already settled in your mind that it is your fault, and you have to shoulder the blame. I know you, brother. But this time, you’re wrong.”

The words made little impression, he could tell. Boromir sat staring at the basin and could not see past the bloody water there. Faramir tried once more. “Boromir, look at my face.” The older man shifted his gaze from the basin to his brother. Shame painted every feature. Faramir said, “The blame, if there is any, is also mine. I wanted you. I still want you. The pain will pass, we’ll be more careful next time—”

“There’ll be no next time, Faramir.”

Faramir dropped the cloth in the basin, and swung his legs over the bed’s side, so he could sit next to his brother. He flinched a little as he sat upright, but said, “Yes, there will.”

“No.”

“What right have you to make that decision alone, Boromir? We are lovers now, and we must choose what we do together.” He placed an arm around Boromir’s waist to emphasize the point.

Lovers, you say. True. But what I did to you was not loving.

“Faramir, I…when I entered you that I could barely see, I wanted you so badly. The water I used was not enough. And all this,” gesturing at the ruddy water in the basin, “You must have called my name. But I did not hear.” Shaking his head, he reached in the basin, withdrew the cloth, and started to clean the blood from his own body. As he touched the abrasions on his shaft, pain flashed across his face.

“You’re injured, too, Boromir. I see it. You were caught up in the fever of the moment. You would never hurt yourself that way, unless you were beyond reason. Just as you would never hurt me.”

“Faramir, I have hurt you. Deeply.”

“Brother, you’ve never hurt me before. And I know you did not mean to hurt me now. You’re the only person I know who never would.”

“But I did.”

Faramir knew Boromir would only grow more stubborn if the conversation continued in the same vein. Change of tactics, brother. Holding Boromir’s waist firmly in one hand, he reached over to turn Boromir’s head so he could see his face clearly. Then he leaned forward, capturing his brother’s mouth with his lips.

Eru, the taste of him. I will never get enough he thought, as he twisted his fingers in Boromir’s hair. When Boromir tried to pull his head back, Faramir wouldn’t let him. Instead he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into Boromir’s mouth, even as he leaned his weight into Boromir’s body, using it to push his brother back on the bed. Can’t you tell how much I want you, Boromir?

Boromir struggled against Faramir, could sense his brother was becoming aroused from their kiss, but the remorseful part of Boromir’s mind rejected any intimacy. He managed to get his hands onto Faramir’s shoulders and pushed the younger man back.

“No, Faramir, I will not do this. I swore I’d always take care of you, and I haven’t. I’ve hurt you in the worst way possible.”

“No, the ‘worst way possible’ would be to deny me your love.” Looking up, Boromir could see Faramir’s eyes were a little angry, his face flushed from the kiss. “I need you, Boromir. Even if you don’t need me.”

Boromir let out a breath, said reluctantly, “I need you too, little one, but I refuse to hurt you again. There will be no ‘next time.’ I might forget myself once more.”

“So you would deny us both, because you fear what you might do to me?”

“Yes, Faramir. For the sake of my peace of mind, I would.”

“Then I have a plan.” As Boromir started to shake his head, Faramir put up a hand across his lips. “Hear me, brother. You worry that if you take me, you will cause more blood between us. We rushed, because we were too eager, but we won’t have to rush in future.” Faramir’s eyes darkened a little as he spoke, thinking of that future. “We must have rules for this love, just as we have when we ask “what are you thinking.” And the first rule is, never doubt that I want you. I will always want you.”

He leaned forward, replacing his hand with his lips, and gave Boromir a gentle kiss, sweet this time, not demanding. Boromir’s lips stayed shut, but he returned the kiss, closing his eyes for a moment as he did. My loving Faramir. Forgiveness is your nature.

When Faramir finally pulled back, breaking their kiss, he looked down into his brother’s green eyes. “Can you agree to that rule, Boromir? Is it a good one?”

And Boromir slowly nodded his head. The shame and remorse were beginning to clear from his eyes. “It is the truth, for me at least. Never doubt that I want you. I will always want you.” With those words, he wrapped his arms around Faramir and pulled him close.

As he did, though, he whispered in Faramir’s ear, “But even wanting you, I can not do this again. I am afraid of myself and what I might do.”

Faramir pulled out of the embrace and rolled to one side, so that his weight was no longer pinning Boromir to the bed. He said, “I know. And for at least a week, you can not have me in that way. It will take that long to heal.” He gave his brother a wry smile. “But that does not mean there are no pleasures left to us, brother. Surely your imagination is at least as good as mine.”

Against his will, Boromir’s mind began to envision erotic alternatives, and he shut his eyes. “Faramir, even if we explore other…options…I will not let you be hurt by my desire. Or my errors.” Green eyes opened, and looked into blue ones. “If we make a mistake, you know what will happen.”

“Mistake? What mistake? You’re talking in riddles, Boromir. I meant other delights we might find with each other,” pulling Boromir’s hand over to touch his half-hard erection.

Boromir pulled his hand back swiftly, shaking his head. “Father. If he learns of this, by any means…I don’t know if I can hide what I feel, so that we won’t be discovered. And you would take the blame.” His eyebrows raised, Boromir shot his brother a knowing look.

Faramir let out a long sigh. “You’re right. If he suspected, he’d marry me to some noblewoman far off, to separate us forever. Exile by marriage.” His brow creased, thinking.

“Or worse. He might kill you, or arrange it so you would die while in Ithilien on patrol.” Boromir swallowed hard, disgusted at the thought. “That’s why there can be no next—”

“No, I don’t think he would go so far. If you die in battle…” Faramir’s voice shook. “If you die, someone must become Steward, when Father eventually dies. As much as he hates it, I am his protection against the day anything happens to you…. But exile would be worse.” And Faramir closed his eyes, rubbing the lids with one hand.

By now, it was nearly the middle of the night. The two brothers moved to prop themselves up at opposite ends of Faramir’s bed, and Faramir lit a candle on the bedside table, casting a little more light. Talk of death and exile had both men lost in thought for a while.

Eventually, Faramir spoke. “We must have another rule. No risktaking. Both of us understand the dangers. We will have to be careful, so none can see us in an unguarded moment.”

“No risktaking.” Boromir snorted and rolled his eyes in bemusement. Shaking his head once more, he began smoothing the blanket beneath his fingers, absently. “Little one, while you are away, I might build a fortress around my feelings such that none would know, but if we are in the same room…I may betray us.”

“You will not. We will find a way.” Faramir moved his foot along the side of Boromir’s leg, caressing his thigh. Boromir responded, moving his foot along Faramir’s thigh, returning the caress, even as he spoke.

“Faramir, this is a maze without exits. My heart demands that I hold you, love you, but my mind says we must not do this again—you must not be hurt.

“There must be a next time, Boromir, because I want you too much,” Faramir said, a little sternly. “Whether we act upon it or not, our feelings will be there. I will still need you. That will not go away. Remember our new rule? I will always want you.”

“And I will still desire you, brother. But I blame myself for the harm I’ve done this night. I could not live with myself if I caused more.”

“Would you have us know the risk, but fail to act? If a stray glance could reveal us, it will happen whether we are lovers in reality or lovers only in our thoughts, Boromir. For myself, I would rather have the pleasure before the exile.” Faramir smiled grimly at his brother as he said this.

That got Boromir to smile weakly in return. “At last, I take your meaning. The emotion will still be there, and could be discovered. Even having you for a lover in my mind is…dangerous. I cannot get rid of these thoughts; I’ve already tried,” he admitted ruefully. “We will have to hide it well, Faramir. Alright, I agree to your rule. No risks.”

“So you also agree that there will be a next time, Boromir?”

A long pause.

“Yes.”

Finally.

Faramir knew there was more. “You’re still worried.”

“I’m worried about what I might do, when we’re together this way. Faramir, I was so wrapped up in my own needs a few moments ago that I couldn’t even hear you. That’s how strong the feelings were, for me.”

“For me as well—”

“You don’t understand,” Boromir cut in. “I felt as if I had lost control. I did not know what you were feeling anymore, Faramir, and if I do not know what you are feeling, I could hurt you again.”

“Boromir, pleasure is supposed to make you do that—lose yourself for a time. That is how it should be. You sound as if you have never felt that way before.”

“Never.”

“Never? I may regret asking this, but did you never have lovers who made you feel that way?”

“Faramir, I have had several lovers, but I have never been in love. They were men who were nearly strangers, for ought I knew, and you are closer to my heart than anyone alive. What you and I…I have not felt before.” Boromir let out a long breath, as he moved his hand to stroke Faramir’s ankle.

Boromir’s words warmed Faramir’s heart—then he thought of something troubling. “You never told me about them. When I asked ‘what are you thinking?’ you never spoke of them once. How could that be, through all these years?” Faramir found it hard to keep an accusing tone out of his voice.

“I never spoke of them because I did not think of them while I was with you.” He could see the suspicion, uncertainty in Faramir’s eyes. “I have never lied to you, brother. I’ve always told you the truth when you asked, I swear it, and always will. I knew the two who mattered most when I was posted on the frontier, about twenty years ago with Tenedor, and twelve years ago with Darmil. Tenedor is married now, and Darmil dead. Each left me after only a few months, and I came home knowing there was no future with them; the others were…unimportant. In truth, I never thought of them because I did not love them. Desired, yes, but not loved.”

The frown left Faramir’s brow, as he considered all that Boromir said. “I understand. And you have done the same as I: men in the field, women here. Bawded a wench or two, to blind Father’s eyes, but never given your heart.”

“Not until now.” The swift retort made, Boromir’s face flushed crimson. I’ve said too much.

The words rang in Faramir’s ears. Not until now. The younger man shifted from one end of his bed to the other, coming near to his brother’s face. Lifting a hand to Boromir’s jawline, he stroked the bearded skin. “Nor have I. Until now.” Then he closed the distance to Boromir’s mouth with his own, and brushed the lips with a delicate kiss. If I am exiled, so be it. I will never give you up.

Lips entangled with his brother’s, Boromir brushed his hand against Faramir’s chest, a gentle touch full of meaning. As the kiss lengthened, Boromir gripped and shook the younger man’s arm to get his attention.

Faramir pulled back, breathing heavily, and said, “I’m in no mood for interruptions.”

“Faramir, I did not want to interrupt you, but we still have things to discuss. Remember, no risks?” Boromir chided, while gesturing to the basin and bloodied cloth. “We must make decisions, before morning comes. There will still be time for us, afterwards.” He leaned forward to kiss Faramir quickly as an apology. “The basin water can be dumped out the window onto the garden below. The cloth…”

Faramir finished, “Is small enough to burn. No one will comment on its absence.” He rose, took the cloth to the fire and pressed it into the embers. A moment later, the fabric caught fire, casting more light into the room. He came back to the bed, sat looking at Boromir from its edge.

“Done, then. And the blanket?”

“I’ll get out the other one from the cupboard to put on the bed, and lock this one in my chest. We will have need of it again.” And the eyes of the brothers met, thinking about how the blanket would be used in their nights to come.

Boromir nodded. “So much for the physical things that might expose us. What shall we do about keeping this from others?”

“The servants come rarely to this corridor, usually only in early morning or during daylight. If we each wake in our own bed, none should know, and if we confine ourselves to the night, none will hear. Whichever room we are in, we must lock the door. No matter how unlikely that a servant may enter, it must be bolted.”

His brother nodded again. “And Father?”

Faramir shook his head, placing an arm around Boromir’s shoulders, resting his forehead against his brother’s. “That will be harder. We must avoid being in the same room with him together. On some occasions, we must both be there, but as often as possible, we must see him separately. A glance might be enough for him to suspect something.”

“He’s taken to eating nearly all his evening meals in the tower. Those will not be a problem. Morning and noon, though, he may expect us.”

“Yes. I was not at midday meal today, so I should be there tomorrow or he may notice. I will have the morning meal in the kitchen, and pass through briefly to bid him good day only when you are nearly finished.”

“I will not linger; I’ll be gone by the time you arrive. In the morning, I will tell him I’m going to take one of the new horses out for a series of trials, to test its battle fitness. I had thought to do that later this week, I can do it tomorrow. On such an errand, he will not expect me back by noon, and you can be there.”

“Tomorrow’s planned, then. We will have to plan this, each day, for the next few weeks until you go back to your troops.”

“No risks.”

“No risks.”

The candle had almost burned down to the stump, flickering as it neared its end. Faramir rose again, went to the cabinet, collected a new one. He lit it, and returned to crawl into the sheltered space of his brother’s arm. Propped up, Boromir enfolded him in a comforting embrace, fingers firm along Faramir’s ribcage. Faramir’s hand moved up and down along Boromir’s waist.

“What’s in the jar next to the basin?” Faramir asked.

“Some salve, for your…new bruises. The weaponsmaster got past my guard two days ago,” Boromir replied, raising his other arm to reveal an ugly cut near the elbow, “and the warden gave me something to help it heal.”

“You should not get too close to Old Folly’s blade. He would do worse, if he could.”

“Old Foldaran trains every man hard, because the enemy will not go easy. I would rather have the scar than lose an arm in battle from lack of honest training. Come, we should dress your…wounds.”

Faramir reached down to the floor and retrieved the jar. Opening the lid, a faint smell of sweet herbs and oil reached his nostrils. Dragging a few fingers through the ointment, he said, “I will take care of this myself,” and began gingerly to stroke the bruised patches he could see forming on Boromir’s shaft.

“Wha…Faramir, stop. I should do this.”

“I want to. You are bloodied, as I am. We are already kin, but consider this…our bond of blood. I will tend your wounds and you will tend mine.” Boromir winced slightly, at his touch in one place, but let Faramir do as he intended. The younger man continued with the gentlest touch to slide the salve on the bruised skin, moving carefully around a cut at the crown, stopping when he had covered the damage.

“Besides, you will be able to see what you are doing as you tend me, and I could not.” Boromir moved over, so that Faramir could roll onto his stomach. Taking the container from his brother, Boromir slid down the bed until he was beside his brother’s waist. He placed the jar on the bed, and used one hand to pull the cheeks of the buttocks slightly apart. Now that the blood had been washed away, he saw cuts in three places around the puckered circle at his brother’s rear. With a heavy sigh, he began to dab a little of the salve on the first one, as gently as he knew how. Faramir only flinched when he began working on the third.

After he finished the outside, Faramir looked over his shoulder, and said simply, “Now the inside.”

Shaking his head, Boromir took more ointment on the end of one finger, and pushed, reluctantly, into the opening. Faramir winced again, but he did not take his eyes off of Boromir.

Boromir rubbed the fingertip inside Faramir until he thought all the salve was gone, then carefully withdrew his finger. Blood was on it. He took some more ointment and repeated the process twice more. Each time Faramir flinched when he entered, but after two repetitions, Boromir sensed that he had probably covered all of the damaged patches that he could reach inside his brother.

Faramir visibly relaxed when Boromir stopped, and watched as his brother stood up, rinsed the blood off his hand and carried the basin to the window. Once there, he opened the casement, and dumped the water outside before closing it again. He refilled the basin with water, and placed it on its stand before coming back to the bedside.

Faramir put a hand on his arm, to pull him down so that the two were lying next to each other, their faces close together. “Truly, you are the bravest of us both,” Boromir said. “To endure such pain, not once, but twice.”

Faramir reached out a hand, to stroke his brother’s hair. He pushed a few drifting strands back behind his ear, then rested his palm against Boromir’s cheek. “No, brother, pain does not prove bravery. You know that as I do. Courage was telling you the truth, when you asked what I was thinking. I spent all of last night seeking some way never to tell you. In the end, I could think of few useful tactics, and only one of them worked.”

“Hence, the manual of defensive tactics in the library; you were seeking alternatives. Which one worked?”

“The one that took me down to the second level to work with the builders. Away from you from you for the afternoon, so you could not question me.”

“Concealment. What others did you try?”

Faramir listed them: acting more normally, volunteering his thoughts readily, getting Boromir drunk. Hearing the last, Boromir started laughing. He leaned closer, and gave Faramir a kiss as his laughter subsided. With the chuckling still echoing in Boromir’s chest, Faramir thought, This is love, this joy we’re sharing. Love.

“So that’s why you were so eager to drink with me at dinner.” Boromir laughed again, and Faramir noticed his eyes had finally lost their haunted look. More like the Boromir I know, thank the Valar.

“Then I realized you hadn’t become drunk at all, and that made me change my tactics again.”

“What did I say that gave me away?” Boromir asked, his eyes merry.

“Something about meeting with father yesterday, and how he expected you to develop new strategies for the eastern campaign. You spoke about which ones you would propose, and you were just too…sober. A drunk could never have said what you did.”

“I thought you had had too much liquor at that point. I did not imagine you would notice.”

“I did, and that’s when I decided to act like you. If you wanted to play at drunkenness, then I would sham as well. From then on, all was an act, even stumbling in the hall.” Faramir looked a little pleased with himself, at having fooled his brother.

“So you forced me to half-carry you up the hall, and then asked me for a shoulder rub, pretending to be in a stupor?” Boromir snorted with mock disgust. “You had me totally blind. You could fool anyone.”

“Only you, only because I thought I had to, or risk losing your love and respect.” Faramir leaned closer to his smiling brother, whispered, “Have we finished discussing everything important, Boromir? Because I want you to kiss me again, and without interruption.”

“Yes, little brother, we have settled things for now,” he whispered back. “We can talk more…tomorrow night.” With that, Boromir reached out, putting his hand into Faramir’s hair, pulling his head nearer so that their lips brushed together lightly. “Faramir,” he breathed against his brother’s lips, as they parted briefly, then rejoined.

Boromir pressed his tongue against Faramir’s lips, as his hand urged his brother’s shoulder backwards. Faramir let his brother guide him on to his back, opened his mouth to grant Boromir’s tongue entrance. Eyes closing, Faramir felt his brother’s hand pushing the hair off of his face, then move to clasp his shoulder. Everything I want is here, in this moment. Remember this.

Boromir moved from Faramir’s mouth to the rest of his face, leaving warm kisses in a trail through his beard, next to his ear, then along the brow that he knew so well. He paused only to drop two light kisses on each of his brother’s eyelids, before claiming his lips again, this time not in a quiet kiss, but one that conveyed his hunger. Brother, I would have you burn for me again.

Faramir strained upwards to capture Boromir’s tongue, drawing it back into his mouth, sucking on it as it moved deeper into him. His hand tracked downwards, from Boromir’s neck to his chest, stopping to glide over the erect nubs that stood out on his brother’s torso. The motion was rewarded with a slight growl against his mouth. You enjoy that also. Another thing to be remembered.

Boromir shifted his weight, breaking the kiss, but kept a hand on Faramir’s shoulder, holding him down. Blue eyes drifted open, looked up, waiting. “Lie still, brother. Just lie still and do not move. In honor of your bravery, I have something to please you. You deserve this tribute from your…lover.” Boromir could tell the words delighted Faramir, especially the last. They reassured him there would be more nights like this one.

Seeing his brother’s eyes shut once more, lips curved to a smile, Boromir moved so that he was crouching over Faramir, his hands propping him up on each side. He began at Faramir’s neck, kissing the soft flesh in a downward track to his collarbone. He paused to lick the skin pulled taut over the right collarbone, then the left, before progressing southward, alternating kisses with intricate spirals drawn with his tongue. One pattern near Faramir’s right hipbone drew a writhing motion from his brother, who rolled his head backwards when Boromir’s warm breath grazed the skin. Vulnerable there. I mark the place on your map, Faramir.

Faramir lifted his hands to rest on his brother’s shoulders, one hand roaming onto Boromir’s strong back. He felt the solid muscles flex as Boromir shifted his weight over Faramir from one side to the other, licking and kissing his brother’s torso.

Boromir moved to Faramir’s left side, tasting and taunting the soft skin next to his hipbone, and was rewarded as Faramir squirmed again, head jerking back into the pillow. Both sides. Easy to remember, brother mine. He continued to nuzzle the responsive flesh, alternating tongue and teeth, as he rested his weight on one forearm, freeing his other hand for the next advance.

Stretching out his free arm, Boromir reached down between his brother’s legs and rested a fingertip along the inside of Faramir’s knee. The soft flesh quivered for a second. You always were ticklish there. Let’s see what happens when I…. He drew a single light finger along the skin, from the tender part at the knee halfway up Faramir’s inner thigh. He repeated the gesture, this time using a fingernail to increase the sensitivity. Twice, three more times, with each track allowing the fingernail to brush farther up the thigh, then the third time, he flicked the nail against the fleshy sac between Faramir’s legs. He could hear his brother’s breath becoming labored, harsher now. “Boromir, don’t…stop, I….” Faramir’s hands dropped from his shoulders to the bed.

“No, Faramir. You said you wanted no interruptions.” With that, he gently brushed the soft flesh on the other inner thigh, then began stroking from knee to thigh, repeated the loving torture until he could see all the hair standing at attention above the dimpled gooseflesh he had provoked. He also saw Faramir’s hands clenching fistfuls of blanket, knuckles white.

Abandoning the skin he had been nuzzling at his brother’s waist, Boromir raised his mouth to find the stiffened nubs on his chest. Even as he flicked another fingertip from knee to thigh, he caught one of the pale pink buds in his mouth, sucking slightly on it before grasping it between his teeth. He gently pulled on the tip, teasing it with his tongue, then released it, even as his finger continued to stroke his brother’s thigh.

“Brother…you can…stop now.” Faramir’s breathing was heavier, and he released the blanket to grab futilely for his brother’s arm. “That’s enough, Boromir…I beg you.”

The very words I wanted to hear, brother. “Did you know, Faramir, that this afternoon,” capturing the other nub between his teeth, and teasing it with his tongue, then freeing it, “that this afternoon I had to lock myself in my room, because I had a vision of you in bed, begging me to join you?” He returned to the first bud, now reddened from his mouth, and reclaimed it for a moment.

Between gasps, Faramir panted, “Boromir, have pity…what happened…in your vision…”

Keeping a tight grip on the nub with his mouth, Boromir replied by allowing his finger to rise this time from knee to thigh to thickened shaft. He only grazed the lightest touch up Faramir’s hard length, and the moisture he felt at the tip he spread around the crown, before moving his finger back down again. He heard Faramir groan faintly, and he released the bud within his mouth. Boromir responded by moving his head down to Faramir’s waist so that he could touch the end of his tongue to the top of the stiffened shaft. This brought a tormented “nnnhhh” from his brother’s lips, making Boromir smile.

A little more, I think. Shifting to lie between his brother’s legs, Boromir ran a tongue tip along the places his fingers had been stroking, from knee to thigh, each time coming a little closer to the apex of his brother’s thighs. Boromir alternated sides, first one thigh then the other, until his tongue finally reached the soft underflesh of his brother’s erection. Running his tongue around the sensitive skin, he gently pulled the pouchy tissue hanging there into his mouth and sucked lightly until he heard Faramir’s agonized “annhh,” then released it. Faramir’s back arched slightly from the movement; when his back bowed, Boromir slid an arm beneath his brother so that he could support his weight.

Boromir used the fingers on his free hand to imitate everything his tongue did, but in reverse. If his tongue slid up Faramir’s shaft, a gentle finger stroked in the opposite direction. When his fingertip circled the top of his brother’s engorged flesh, his lips kissed its base. This new form of teasing was excruciating for Faramir. “Boromir…that is…almost …painful. What are you…thinking?”

Boromir raised his head, to look at the rest of his brother’s body, head thrown back, a sheen of sweat on his chest. “I am thinking that I tasted you before, brother, but not from the source. When I do, it will be your turn to tell me what you are thinking.” With those words, Boromir moved his hand to cup the base of his brother’s erection, circling it with two fingers, while he captured the top with his mouth. Eyes closed now to all but his task, Boromir carefully slid Faramir’s length into his mouth, until lips met fingers wrapped around its foundation. Then hand and mouth began another torturous dance of opposites: Boromir pulling his head up and back while pressing gently downwards with his fingers, together then apart, over and over.

“I think…Boromir…I’ve nev— …

Brother, mercy…that again…yes, that…

Faster…please, Boromir…

Yes…there.“

Faramir’s words guided Boromir’s fingers and lips, while his sharp warning was matched by a spasm inside Boromir’s mouth. The warm surge against the roof of his mouth came as Boromir moved downwards again on Faramir’s shuddering erection, and he slid his lips one last time down his brother’s contracting length, sucking hard until he removed all the salty liquid he could swallow.

Opening his eyes, Boromir saw the reddish skin subsiding to rest against Faramir’s groin, and he bent to place a delicate kiss on his brother’s shrinking flesh. One last stroke of his tongue up the spent shaft, he next removed his arm from beneath Faramir’s back and rearranged himself so that he could lie beside his brother, Faramir’s arm underneath his neck. A lazy hand began brushing his shoulder blade, but Boromir had eyes only for his brother’s face—the skin glowing, features totally relaxed, beard glinting with sweat.

As he brushed a damp strand of darkened hair away from Faramir’s face, Boromir said teasingly, “That was the most incoherent thought I have heard from you in nearly thirty years.”

Faramir half-raised his eyelids, blue eyes drained from exhaustion, and replied, “I defy you, brother, to speak your meaning plain in…similar circumstances.” I do not want to say this but I must. Sadness marked his gaze. “Dawn approaches, Boromir. Much as I would have you stay—”

“I may not. But there will be other nights for us, Faramir” Matching smiles passed between the two. “Look for me at the evening meal, when we will discuss our plans for tomorrow night.” Boromir pressed a firm kiss to brotherly lips, then rose to gather clothes and boots.

He dressed at speed, slowing only to take care when pulling his breeches up around his partially erect shaft. As he relaced the leather, Boromir saw his brother was watching all. He picked up the jar of salve and came back to the bedside.

He bent over Faramir once more, kissed him swiftly. “Remember: no risks.” Quietly unbolting the door, he left Faramir in bed, alone with memories of his brother’s passion.

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