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Anywhere With You (NC-17) 
Written by Kissa20 September 2006 | 12845 words
Chapter 2
(months later, in Rohan)
“Can I walk with you, Captain?” A familiar voice resounded behind him.
He twitched.
Joy flooded him as he slowly turned, not believing his ears. He had to see, he had to touch.
Faramir stood behind him and stumbled back a step or two when his brother practically jumped him, enfolding him in a bone-crushing hug. Boromir’s hands roamed his back up and down then went up through his now long hair. Finally the hands settled on the younger man’s face, callused fingertips tenderly tracing the outlines of beloved features.
“It is you! Eru strike me, it is you, little one! But…how? Won’t your patrol captain reprimand you for going away?”
Faramir hugged his brother in reply and said:
“Nay, dear brother, I am on a mission back here. I have to deliver a letter to the King and take his answer back to Ithilien.”
“Are you here alone then? Where are your quarters?” Boromir hastily asked.
Faramir laughed, a sound so melodic and clarified that it made Boromir’s body tingle and his breath caught.
“Bori, I am a Ranger now. I sleep in the hayloft, I wasn’t given any quarters in the castle!… But I would very much like to join you for a long talk and… perhaps some ale?”
It was Boromir’s turn to laugh.
“You may be the most breathtakingly beautiful apparition in this land, but there will be no ale for you! You are not yet of age, and if I do give you some and it is found out, it is you who will take the punishment, not I.”
“What’s the punishment?” Faramir said, after a short moment during which he appeared to be pondering on his options.
“Ten whips in the public place. Théoden is a good king, but he hates the corruption of the young and issued many harsh laws to prevent just that. As you know, Rohan people, especially the men, are pretty prone to debauchery .” Boromir said, but stopped as he realized he sounded like a tour guide, one for sexual tourism, because if anyone was in search of bedroom exoticism, Rohan was where it was at.
He shuddered at the thought of his pure little brother falling prey to some Rohirrim’s lust. That was one wrong way to start a sex-life, in his view. For Faramir only, because he liked to think of his brother as innocent and in need of protection, whereas for himself, he was very grateful for the things Théodred had shown him. In his view, it was bad enough that Faramir spent his time along the Rangers, who could act pretty desperately at times, after months alone in the woods… desperately enough to mistake a fourteen year old boy with a willing wench.
Boromir snapped out of his musings as Faramir came close to him and hugged him tightly, resting his head on his brother’s shoulder.
“I’m so glad I can do this without father watching and scowling at me for being too smoochy.” Faramir giggled contentedly.
Boromir gladly allowed his brother as much time as he needed into the hug, burying his nose in Faramir’s wavy, perfumed curls. Although his little brother had spent most of his time outdoors with the rangers, he still had that exquisite, sweet baby-scent that pertained to him alone and that had a most interesting effect on his older brother.
When the grip of Faramir’s arms around him lessened slightly, Boromir gently pulled back and looked at his brother, smiling approvingly at the little one’s happy face. Then, taking his hand, he led him to his own quarters.
When they got there, Boromir had the servants draw a bath while he and Faramir went to sit at a small table under the window to share news from home and interesting facts they’d learned. After all, Boromir, although he had gained his status as a man and represented his father already, was only nineteen, and the playfulness had yet to be eradicated from his nature. Plus, this playfulness always came forth in the presence of his little brother.
For instance, like when he sat so near to Faramir, listening to him with a straight, serious face but suddenly jumping from his place to tickle Faramir breathless, not even giving him a chance to finish the word he was uttering at that moment. The servants raised a few tolerant eyebrows and shrugged. Men from outside of Rohan were strange, acting like boys where everyone could see and judge them, some thought.
As the bath was ready, Boromir gave leave to the servants and bid Faramir to undress.
Faramir did just that, and when he finished taking off his outer garments, standing in his breeches and shirt alone, Boromir’s mouth fell agape.
He’d never seen his brother so thin, although they had been apart only for a short while. The shock was considerable. As Faramir took off his remaining clothes and stood in front of Boromir for a while before gingerly slipping into the bath, Boromir had the time to notice the elongated limbs, the fact that the baby fat had disappeared and had been replaced by muscles, not big but instead graceful and delicate, rippling under the creamy skin of his brother. In some respects, Faramir was starting to look like a man, but… Boromir found himself staring at his brother’s nay, not handsome, but straight out beautiful body, which looked more like the elegant shape of an elf than the hairy, bulkier one of a man. A strange, powerful emotion washed over Denethor’s first born, and drowned him like a tidal wave. It was then that he knew why he had refused Théodred when he had asked him to… well. Boromir mentally blushed at remembering Théodred’s honeyed words.
“Bori? What troubles you so?” Came Faramir’s warm voice and made the older man twitch back to awareness.
“ ‘tis nothing serious, lovely one.” Boromir spoke, not even noticing the special endearment he’d used.
But Faramir did and it made him wonder, as something deep within him reacted quite surprisingly to his brother’s words.
“You look lost in your thoughts… is there anything weighing on your mind?” Faramir’s voice sweetened even more.
”I wish we were living in different times, that you and I could really enjoy each other’s presence and support. Father is going to fantastic lengths to… keep us apart.” Boromir mused aloud. It wasn’t the truth that question deserved, but it wasn’t a lie either.
“And I wish you wouldn’t be pouting so on this precious occasion. I am quite happy to see you and would love it so much to see the normal you now, here, where father’s shadow has no power.” Faramir spoke from the tub, opening his eyes to look directly into Boromir’s soul.
“As usual, you have a valid point!” Boromir cheered up and came next to the tub, crouching behind Faramir. “Shall I do your hair and back?” he offered.
“If it doesn’t repulse you… Eru knows what bugs have found a nest in my hair since my last bath with real shampoo!” Faramir said and laughed lightly, but he slouched into the tub so Boromir could start work on his hair.
A mere bath and cleaning his hair had never felt like this… it felt so good physically but inside Faramir was in great distress, as if his heart was a scared sparrow trapped in his chest and struggling to get free. There was something bittersweet about the scene his brother and he were in, and Faramir was disturbed enough to realize he was seeing things from the outside… which was usually, in his case, a sign of foretelling.
Boromir’s hands were traveling deftly and carefully through his brother’s wet hair and on his back, slowly massaging the knots away.
“You should learn how to relax when you ride… otherwise you will have many sore muscles and even bones. You should keep to the correct posture without being stiff in it.” Boromir advised, his warm breath ghosting over his younger brother’s damp skin.
“Ai, Bori, that tickles!” gasped Faramir, then added more seriously: “I shall try to do so, riding is such an ordeal!”
He stood up and Boromir gave him a big towel, trying not to stare at his brother’s chronically scrawny, but nonetheless adorable butt. As Faramir bent a bit to dry his first leg and foot and to get out of the tub, Boromir spanked that butt playfully, which managed to unbalance his brother and to make him land on the floor, face first.
Boromir cursed himself and went immediately to Faramir’s aid, lifting him in his arms like a mere child and carrying him to the bed, helping him sit and looking him over worriedly. He hadn’t hit that hard, though… There must have been something else also…
“Are you alright, little one?” He asked first.
“I’ll live.” Faramir mumbled. “Now why did you do that?” He asked with a sweet pout, making Boromir want to appease him with a peck, but he held back because he was at fault at the moment.
“Come on, I’ve done it before and you do it to me every time you get the chance! You even pushed me in that freezing pond using the same trick!” Boromir defended himself.
“Yes, but never when your butt was an inferno of pain because you’re saddle sore!” Faramir’s pout grew.
With another dry towel in hand, Boromir began to dry his brother’s hair with one hand, as he used the other hand to pull Faramir close to him and hold him lovingly.
“I’m sorry, why didn’t you tell me…? I know remedies for that…”
“It hurts even now, when I sit!” Faramir sniffled a bit. He loved it when his brother got overprotective of him and he was being pampered.
“Then guess who isn’t sleeping in the hayloft tonight!” Boromir said in a stern voice. “That is not negotiable!” He ended with a smile as he saw Faramir had opened his mouth to object.
Faramir looked his real age again as he drew himself up on the bed to lie down on half of it, although the bed wasn’t that big as it was meant for one large warrior, not two slender Gondorians. Only when he saw Boromir staring again did he realize he was butt-naked and he felt himself blush. He looked around embarrassed, trying to locate something to cover himself with, but there was nothing he could use.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t bring a nightshirt, I wasn’t expecting a bath and… all this.” He said looking miserable.
“Don’t fuss over it, little one. We are brothers after all, it’s not the first time I see you naked and… it’s not like I see anything new that I don’t have myself.” He winked, trying to make his brother unwind. He began to undress himself and, leaving only the under-breeches on, he fumbled in his pack for what he needed to soothe his brother’s saddle-inflicted swelling and pain.
Retrieving a small jar of some sort, he came back to the bed and climbed in.
“If you could turn on your belly, so I can…” He said, also gesturing to accompany his words.
Faramir obediently turned, fully trusting his brother, who was acting wonderfully again, so mature and so in control that it made him fuzzy inside.
Boromir, once he was presented with the full lovely sight of his brother’s behind, took a deep breath and willed his stirring groin to relax before he opened the jar he was holding. The room was soon filled with a spicy, pungent aroma of tree oils and resins.
“I suppose, by the smell, that that thing burns. Try not to get any of it in delicate places!” Faramir warned.
“I’ll try not to.” Boromir gave back cheekily, as if he intended to do the exact opposite.
But he could not knowingly cause his brother any discomfort, so he set about leisurely massaging the cream into his brother’s tense buttocks, at the same time kneading the muscles. As he did so, he watched avidly as he was offered the full view of Faramir’s most secret places. He knew that shouldn’t have excited him so, but he simply didn’t care. Faramir was gorgeous and he was his adored little brother. When he was done with the treatment, he bent down and lovingly bit at one of his brother’s buttocks, awaking Faramir from the contented nap he had slid into during the massage.
“Boromir. Gods! I beg you, never do that again!” Faramir pleaded, turning around halfway so Boromir could see the panic on his face.
“Did I hurt you?” Boromir asked, thinking it was the second screw-up in one evening.
“Nay, on the contrary… but you startled me. You bit me without warning and you’ve never done that before!” Faramir calmed down a bit.
”Was it that bad, now that the shock is gone?” the older man asked.
Faramir just gave him a thousand meter stare that spoke volumes. It had not felt bad at all, it had felt fucking good, sending a flash of… something unknown straight to his member and making him lose his perception of the world surrounding him for a moment.
“You’re torturing me, Boromir.” He said.
The other man sighed. He now knew. Faramir was fourteen and even the slightest caress probably threw him in an abyss of raging hormones, but what he didn’t know was that if he had had the wish to take Faramir right then and there, he would have met no resistance or objection whatsoever.
Instead, he merely settled for putting out the light and drawing his brother’s naked body into his arms, letting him curl up against him like he had done so many times when they were younger.
“How is your butt, still sore from the saddle?” He asked in the darkness.
“Nay, your magic balm did the trick apparently. I’ll be as good as new in the morning.” Faramir purred sleepily. “Oh, and Boromir, before we sleep…”
“What is it, dearest?”
“I love you.”
But in what way? Boromir wondered in his mind, as his lips formed the words “I love you too.” and his body warned him that he would not get any rest that night.
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Great start. I had to check the story since it was written by you! I guess we all know what Boromir’s disquietness is about. Loving your brother can be a burden. Is Faramir 5 years younger in your story? I truly adore Slow and Healing deep wounds. I believe that Slow has much potential for series.
— maeglina Monday 21 August 2006, 3:27 #Sorry for not leaving comments before but was in a hurry. (Boyfriend reading over my shoulder)