Faramir Fiction Archive

Devoid of Love (R)

Written by Minx

29 March 2004 | 11953 words

Chapter 2

Faramir wriggled around trying to escape, but Legolas had placed one strong arm on his chest, preventing movement. He tried to thrash his hands and legs, but nothing moved the elf prince until he had unknotted the string. Faramir bit back a sharp sob, as Legolas lightly caressed his exposed skin with his index finger. He drew circles around the navel, and then stretched a line down the stomach to where the loosened leggings now rested, and each time his finger would come one tantalizing inch closer. Faramir cried out again, as the action aroused him, and then angry with himself flailed his arms uselessly at the elf.

Legolas was fascinated by the young steward’s skin, it held a smooth textured look to it, that he sighed dreamily as he ran his finger across it. The sigh turned to a smirk as he watched the bulge under the leggings grow. Taking hold of the waistband of the leggings, he gave them a jerk. Faramir sat up suddenly grabbing at the leggings trying to keep them on. He was shoved back, and then the elf was straddling him, tugging at his clothes, lifting his lower body off the bed, so that he could dispose of the pants as soon as possible. He whipped them off with a flourish, and then hopped off, watching the naked legs shivering in front of him. Faramir was trying to cover himself by curling up on his side and placing his hands over himself. Legolas sat by the silently sobbing steward a smirk on his face showed him to still be drunk.

He ran a hand over the steward’s exposed hip and behind, his fingers inching their way towards the crack. Faramir suddenly rolled away, and tried to get off the bed. Legolas however would have none of that. He pounced on Faramir, pinning him down as he lay half on the bed, and half off it. He yanked him back roughly and rolled him over on to his back, pinning his arms over his head with one hand, while with the other he reached for Faramir’s tear-streaked face.

“Ssshh,” he crooned softly, as terrified grey eyes stared out at him.

He ran a finger over the lips again. He loved those lips. Faramir gave out a stifled cry, and tried to jerk away, but to no avail. The hand traced a downward pattern along his tunic before reaching his exposed groin. Faramir thrashed his legs and bucked underneath the touch, shuddering as Legolas’ hand caressed the sensitive area playfully. He groaned loudly, a groan filled with desire that did not escape the elven prince, who smiled, and suddenly removed the loving hand, inducing a frustrated sob from the steward.

“You do want it,” he purred seductively into Faramir’s face, and tightening his grip on his hands, ruthlessly attacked the steward’s lips with his mouth. He probed and bit hard, slamming his tongue around the mouth. He released Faramir’s hands, and grabbing the steward’s neck in both arms, lifted the unresisting man all the while relentlessly kissing him.

Faramir tried to resist but found himself simply plunging deep into a feeling he had never known before. His mind screamed at him to move away, reminding of the hurt that would follow if he let himself be captivated by desire. But his body refused to obey. It screamed and screamed louder than the voice in his head drowning it out, and pushed him closer into the elven prince’s ruthless kiss. He responded with a joy he had never felt before.

The elf suddenly pushed him back onto the bed and ground his body down upon him, seductively pressing down on his groin, all the while attacking with his mouth. His tunic got pushed upward exposing his bare body to the rough cloth covering Legolas, and the feeling induced an agonizing sense of upliftment in him. Faramir felt he would explode, as the elf suddenly pulled away and stared into his face, still pressing down on him, groin touching groin, with just the barrier of Legolas’ clothes between them.

He stared into the azure depths of those eyes, his mind still in a whirl after the assault. Legolas , breath coming in small gasps, as his chest heaved painfully up and down, and his body screamed for more. He grabbed at Legolas’ arms suddenly as he ground down on him again.

Legolas purred again, and Faramir closed his eyes in satisfaction letting the ecstasy of the elf’s nearness take over him.

But, just as suddenly as it had started, it ended. Legolas heaved himself off, and stood up, looking down at the steward with something like amusement in his eyes. Faramir felt a derisive gaze rest on him, and looked at himself. Hair in disarray, face flushed unbecomingly, his tunic bunched around his waist, and his own body betraying him, as he looked down at his groin. He curled up with a groan trying to control the throbbing erection.

“Did you like that?” Legolas smirked.

Faramir’s only response was a groan.

“You ran from me,” Legolas hissed, grabbing a handful of the steward’s hair, “No one ever runs from me, they come to me, all of them come to me, even your king, when he was younger came to me for comfort once, before he found Arwen.”

“Even your brother once came to me,” he purred, “But he was drunk and exhausted and I would not take advantage of that. But you, you ran from me! And you are not even half the man he was.”

The words were spat out with anger flashing from the blue eyes, cold as ice. The grip on the hair tightened causing tiny spikes of pain to race through Faramir’s head. A sharp sob escaped through dry lips, as the words cut like never before.

“I will show you why no one runs from me,” Legolas said savagely, as he tugged at the dark hair. Faramir howled as a sharp pain broke out in his head. He felt himself pulled forward again, and a resounding slap hit his already abused face once again.

“Did you hear me?” alcohol reeked from the elf’s breath.

Legolas reached out a hand out, and pushed him on to his stomach suddenly. A rustling sound of clothing being removed reached his ears.

Faramir writhed underneath the one hand that held him in place, “What -? No! Legolas, please no,” he heard himself screaming, “I have never before – ”

“You want me, do you not?” Legolas interrupted him.

“Yes,” it was the slightest whisper, and Faramir repeated it over and over again.

He was cut off by a sudden pain as a finger ruthlessly entered him, followed by a second.

It was as far as he got, for the next second, pain erupted, pain, as he’d never felt before. It ripped through his very being, causing him to scream, and he tried to will himself into slipping into nothingness but could not, as the agony kept him awake and made itself felt with startling clarity.

*You wanted this,* his mind hissed at him, *you asked for it, now enjoy it, you heeded not yourself, you would not pull away in time!*

But he had not wanted that while Legolas entered him, the only word that should come again and again out of the elf prince’s lips be “Estel.”

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