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This story is rated «NC-17», and carries the warnings «Implied and graphic non-con/rape, incest, prostitution, power games, angst».
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Simulacra (NC-17)
Written by Vanwa Hravani09 November 2011 | 30013 words | Work in Progress
XVI
Ro woke to the sound of heavy breathing. He was immediately alert to deal with whatever crisis Haldir was having now. Almost.
For some days they had been sharing the cottage’s only real bed. After Elladan had left, there seemed little reason for Ro to sleep alone on the floor, leaving the whole double bed to Haldir. Haldir could use the added warmth of another body, and he had grown accustomed to the feel of Elrohir next to him. It also helped Elrohir to know when Haldir was having nightmares or needed something in the night.
But this was no nightmare. Haldir was not in pain. The breath of the elf spooned against Elrohir’s chest was not laboring in fear. Ro felt Haldir draw their arms more closely about his torso, grasping Ro’s wrist to pull a hand toward his groin. Before Elrohir thought to snatch it back, he was aware of Haldir hard against his palm, felt the former guardian pressing himself forward, seeking contact, trying to rub Elrohir’s hand against his straining length. He arched his back and flexed his buttocks against the Peredhel’s warmth.
‘Nnnh… hnh…’
‘Haldir, no! Wake up. You don’t want this.’ Elrohir tried to pull his hand back, and at the same time tried with the other hand to push Haldir away from him and shake him awake.
But though Haldir’s eyes remained closed, his grip tightened; he refused to be put off. ‘Please… please. I want this. It’s okay. I can make you feel so good. Oh Valar, fuck me.’ His voice was husky with disuse and sleep; the coarse Common Tongue words were the first he had spoken in weeks.
‘No! This is not right. Wake up Haldir! You’re back with us now. This is Elrohir. You don’t have to…’
Haldir pushed himself back, forcing Ro’s wrist between his legs until he rode upon it. With guilty horror Elrohir realized his own cock was responding to the pressure of Haldir’s ass as it nudged his shaft teasingly, begging.
‘I know, Ro. I know it’s you. I want you. You feel so good against me. You want it; I know you do. Please fuck me. Fuck me hard. Take me however you want. Just do it. I’m aching to be filled. Oh gods…’
Elrohir struggled to draw back from his friend, even while his own pulse quickened and a small voice inside him tried to suggest that they were both consenting adults, and no one need ever know… It wasn’t as if either of them were virgins… But this was not right.
‘Please Ro.’ Haldir’s voice rose from a sleepy murmur to a more incessant whine. ‘Please. By the Valar, don’t leave me hurting! I need… Amin nwalya. Amin anta sarigr! Si!’3
The young healer was as struck by Haldir’s sudden switch to Elvish as he was by the words themselves. On some level, the former warrior did know who he was, what he was asking. But did that make it okay? Elrohir could feel the clamminess of the skin pressing against his chest as the other writhed against him. Not a healthy sweat. Without question Haldir was still sick. Yet his pain too was real. Offering him more kaihf was not an answer, especially if he was asking for something else. Where was Elrond?
Elrohir came to a decision and prayed he would not come to regret it.
‘Haldir, I cannot take you. It is not right, the way things are. I don’t know that you are able to consent right now.’ At this Haldir howled in anguish and scrabbled more desperately against him.
‘But I know you need something now. I can feel you aching, your pain. If it will help, I will let you ease your hunger in me. Take me.’
There was a moment’s breath of silence as the words hung between them — and then sunk into Haldir’s fevered brain. Elrohir briefly imagined he could reach out and snatch them back. Were they a mistake? As a healer, could he do this? As a friend? What were his father and brother going to say? Elladan…
But in that moment, Haldir was upon him, grabbing, groping, pulling at the sheets, his clothes, his hair in a single-minded effort to fulfill base need. He had rolled over, pinning Elrohir beneath him with sudden strength, and began sliding his body, his length, rhythmically on the other elf, head down, eyes unseeing, masturbating himself upon his friend.
Elrohir’s surprise gave way to shock as he felt himself, his pleasure, his very identity, erased by Haldir’s consumed rutting. He had expected his own body to respond with matching lust at least, but it did not. Instead he struggled to avoid fighting Haldir off, to allow what he had consented to. This is what it’s like –
He fought down the sob of panic that threatened to engulf him. He chose this. He was in control. He was helping his friend, his patient. This was a healing. Healing is not always pretty. Deep breath. Healing hurts. Just wait it out. Oh gods…
Haldir couldn’t be distracted long enough to get any oil, and going slowly was not within his means. Beyond satisfying instinctual survival need, all thought had fled him. Elrohir bit back a cry at the sudden pain, the burning, tearing as his core was rent in two. Grinding his teeth he waited as Haldir frantically drove into him, scratching at an itch he couldn’t seem to reach. Haldir became ever more desperate, unmindful of the way his animalistic motion banged his partner’s head against the wall beam with every thrust. Wincing, Ro braced one arm against the wood to cushion the blows. With the other hand he gripped Haldir’s shoulder in a futile effort to communicate some restraint to his old comrade.
Luckily it didn’t take long. Overwhelmed by the waning of the drug, Haldir’s physical senses exploded within him in a spastic simulation of orgasm. He cried out and went rigid, eyes rolled back and closed, chin raised like a wolf howling at the moon.
And it was done.
Elrohir shoved the lank body off and curled into himself, shaking. He pressed his tongue to the back of his palate and focused on deep calming breaths as he had been taught. Just a healing. Not me. I am not my body. I can give a gift without being diminished. It was his sickness and I am helping to heal it, to draw it out. Into me, then let it go. I do not keep it. Breathe it out. Let it go. Let it go.
In the early morning silence, Haldir grunted in his sleep.
3 Translation: ‘I ache. I need to have sex. Now.’
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I am looking forward to reading more of this – I adore all of the undercurrents in their relationship.
— pinbot Wednesday 6 August 2008, 20:25 #