Faramir Fiction Archive

That which you can never have (NC-17)

Written by Anorienbean

24 April 2007 | 23005 words

Chapter 6

Since he was in his early teens, Faramir had been worried. He was certain something was wrong with him. His legs were useless, of course, but, more than that, he seemed to have something wrong with him between his legs. He would often wake up with a warm, creamy fluid on the bed sheets or his sleeping shirt, or worse yet, covering his hand. That couldn’t be normal. He’d never been allowed more than one trip to the washing rooms to clean and relieve himself per day, and, while this liquid that came from inside him was most definitely a relief at times, it wasn’t anything he understood.

There was no one to ask, of course. The aids barely spoke to him, Enrif told him he didn’t have time to explain about things ‘normal’ folks did or felt, and Faramir was scarcely allowed to open his mouth when his father came to the sickhouse. Once, an aid walked into the room earlier than normal, and Faramir woke to the sound of laughter. His hand was between his legs, rubbing himself, and even as his eyes opened and he looked around the room in shock, he couldn’t seem to stop, couldn’t seem to deny the need he felt to just squeeze his fingers, move them down one more time, touch himself just there.

Less than half an hour later, Enrif had stormed into the room, telling Faramir that he was a foolish boy, who had dreams of being a man, and he would have to sleep on dirty sheets for the rest of the week, as he had neither the time, nor the desire to do any extra work. As Faramir’s face flamed with shame, Enrif launched into the familiar tirade that Faramir now knew by heart. “You’ve always wanted that which you can never have, you stupid, useless boy!” And for the next hour, Enrif lectured and threatened, leaving Faramir’s door open for all to see and hear, the cackles of laughter from the other healers and aids drifting toward him every time Enrif paused to take a breath.

After Faramir and Haldir had been friends for several weeks, and kissing for only a few days, Faramir was startled to discover that when he was close to the golden Elf, he would get a strange, heavy feeling between his legs. And if that wasn’t enough, he found that Haldir often had the same problem, though he never mentioned a word about it. Instead, Elf and Man would curl up together under the tree in the backyard of the sickhouse, or in the chair by his window for hours at a time, kissing, talking, laughing, and then kissing some more. This had to be what a real relationship was like, Faramir thought to himself. Though he was sure Haldir was only entertaining himself until he could return to Lothlórien, these few precious weeks would be the highlight of Faramir’s life, he knew without a doubt.

One warm afternoon in late summer, Faramir found himself cradled gently in Haldir’s lap. His head rested on the Elf’s shoulder, and his fingers were idly winding through long golden hair. He was still unable to resist the urge to stop whatever they were talking about every half hour or so for a few long, sweet kisses, but at least now both he and Haldir could breathe now and then, as Haldir had promised that he would always have enough kisses to share with Faramir, that he would never run out, and never tire of giving or receiving them.

After one exceptionally deep kiss, Faramir felt the familiar hardness between his legs, as well as Haldir’s pressing against his hip. “Is there… something wrong with us?” he asked softly. “I mean… when we kiss, or… or sometimes at night, I dream about you and when I wake up…” He gestured helplessly toward the bulge in his breeches, “I find… that something… happened… there…”

Haldir, who already cared more deeply for Faramir than he’d ever felt for anyone else in his life, felt a fierce wave of protectiveness wash over him as wide blue eyes looked up at him so innocently. Gods… he is older than his years in so many ways, but at the same time, he is so painfully young it makes my heart ache.

For weeks, Haldir had been wondering if Faramir had any idea how he made Haldir feel when they kissed, or when their bodies were wrapped around one another’s as they lay beneath the tree they’d claimed as their own behind the sickhouse. And he wondered if Faramir would ever want more. Certainly, Haldir had felt the hard length pressing against him now and then, and he realized that when Faramir would cling to him so desperately, he was wanting… no, needing... something that was just out of his reach.

It was, in some ways, and for some time, a difficult decision. Certainly, Faramir deserved a better life than he had here in Minas Tirith, hidden away like a dirty secret that no one wanted to speak of or acknowledge. But if Haldir gave in to his… and Faramir’s… basest desires, where would that leave Faramir when Haldir had to return home? With memories of happy times with an Elf who cared deeply for him, or with an aching desire of having felt something that he could never have again, given that he would never be allowed out of the single room that was the only home he’d ever known?

As Faramir looked at him, waiting for an answer, Haldir let his fingertips trail lightly over the now sun-kissed features he knew so well. “There is nothing wrong with either of us,” he said softy, as he finally found the answer he’d been searching for. One way or another, Faramir would not be left here, alone, when Haldir left. He would have a home, with people who cared for him, loved him, made him understand that he was just as good as anyone else on Arda… maybe even better than most.

He stood, holding Faramir close against him, and moved to the other side of the tree where he settled down on the hard ground once more. He knew the healers looked at them from time to time, not understanding their need for one another, their desire to simply be together day after day. Most days, he ignored them, but for this, for now, he wanted privacy.

“Faramir… do you enjoy kissing me?” The words were spoken softly, though there was no one else close enough to hear.

“Gods, Haldir, I love kissing you,” Faramir whispered honestly. “I wake up dreaming of kissing you, and I go to sleep still feeling my lips tingling from your good night kisses.”

“Is it me you love kissing? Or do you think you might like to kiss someone else?”

Faramir didn’t hesitate to answer. “Only you, Haldir, only you.” He pulled back to look into dark blue eyes that looked… different somehow. “I think you are the most beautiful being on Arda, and I am the luckiest man that has ever lived because you allow me to kiss you.”

“No,” Haldir said, shaking his head. “I do not allow you to kiss me. We kiss each other because we both enjoy it, Faramir.”

“You enjoy it too?” Faramir was stunned, having thought that Haldir simply felt sorry for him, and was trying to make him smile enough for a lifetime before he left.

Haldir curved his index finger beneath Faramir’s chin and tilted his head until their gazes met. There was no laughter in his eyes, only compassion and tenderness. And something else… something that Faramir didn’t understand, for he had never seen it before in all his life. “Faramir, I love kissing you. I too look forward to it every morning, and the only good thing about the coming of the night is that I get to carry you to bed and kiss you before I leave.”

A small smile played on Faramir’s face as Haldir studied him silently for long moments. “There is more we can share besides kissing, my dear one, the Elf murmured. “So much more.”

“More?” Faramir, who still had the feeling of fullness between his legs but didn’t understand what this conversation had to do with his question about something being wrong with them, was momentarily distracted by the notion that there could be anything more than kissing… well, anything that he, imperfect and broken as he was, could be allowed to experience.

“Do you trust me?”

“With all my heart.” Again, there was no hesitation in Faramir’s voice as he answered.

“Then I’m going to touch you,” Haldir said softly. He was no healer, and though he suspected that whatever had ravaged Faramir’s legs couldn’t even be healed by Elrond or Galadriel, he’d felt the rigid length underneath Faramir’s tunic often enough to know that he was capable of experiencing pleasure. “Come here. Kiss me again, Faramir. Close your eyes, and let me show you what’s more than a kiss.”

As Haldir spoke, he let his hand wander down and pressed his fingers gently against Faramir’s arousal through his breeches, causing the young man to jump and clench his fists in Haldir’s tunic. Faramir started to ask what was going to happen, but remembered that above all else, he trusted Haldir. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then kissed the soft lips before him, still wondering how anything could be better than this.

It took him only moments to find out. Long Elven fingers deftly unlaced his breeches and Faramir’s arms tightened around Haldir’s neck as the aching flesh between his legs was gently squeezed and stroked with slow, deliberate motions. “Haldir!” The single word was spoken breathlessly and in a voice that didn’t sound like Faramir’s at all. But Haldir’s hand kept moving, and Faramir was pulled into another kiss. He felt hot and cold all over, that yearning for something that was just beyond him almost palpable in the air. He was rocking in Haldir’s lap, grinding against him, his legs barely moving, but his hips managing to roll back and forth, enough to give him the friction he so desperately craved. In almost no time at all, Faramir’s head fell back and he moaned loudly, wondering how Haldir knew just how to touch him, and already praying that whatever this was, it wasn’t the kind of thing that could only happen once in a lifetime. But of course, how could something this wonderful happen more often than once?

Haldir’s mouth covered his own, muffling his cries as Faramir’s release slammed into him. His entire body seemed to spasm uncontrollably, and had it not been for the strong arm holding him close, he would have fallen back on the hard ground in what he was sure was some kind of fit.

It took him quite some time to finally open his eyes and stare in wonder at Haldir, who was still holding his now softening flesh, his fingers stilled and covered with Faramir’s seed. “Haldir… Gods…” He trembled in Haldir’s arms for long minutes, unable to find the words to explain how he felt. Haldir combed the hair back from his forehead and whispered softly against his skin, and in no time at all Faramir had fallen asleep, safe from the world in the strong embrace that he wished he would never have to leave.

Later that night, Faramir was even more reluctant that normal to let Haldir leave. He wanted to ask him to stay until morning, though his bed was narrow and hard, and he was certain there would be even more talk about him around the sickhouse. He couldn’t seem to find the words, however, and simply bit his bottom lip as Haldir left him, promising to see him the next morning.

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