Faramir Fiction Archive

Wrong About Everything (NC-17)

Written by Anorienbean

24 June 2007 | 6977 words

Title: Wrong About Everything
Pairing: Faramir/Haldir
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: A bit of non-con touching, pain, whipping, and fingering.
Beta: The lovely Martonsmistress

Written for the 2007 Midsummer Swap

Request by Laurëlóte: Returning from a diplomatic mission, a young Faramir becomes detached from his company. Alone, lost and wounded he meets a stranger who changes his life forever… Your choices of stranger are: Aragorn, an AU Boromir, Éomer or a Lórien Elf. I’d like something dark (but not too much so) and a happy ending is a must! R rated or above please…

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The attack came out of nowhere.

One moment, Faramir was riding though the forest with his guards, and the next he was surrounded by wild-looking men he had never seen before, the guards lying dead in a circle around him.

“He looks like someone important,” the foulest of the men leered as he moved closer. “And he looks like a virgin!” Another came from behind him, and grabbed his sword just as Faramir was reaching for it. He should have been faster, should have fought, or escaped, but he was still young and untrained, and he’d been taken completely by surprise.

Before he could protest, he was jerked from his saddle, one arm wrenched behind him and his sword thrown to the ground, far ahead of him. The man holding him grabbed his other arm, tied his wrists together, and grinned as he smelled the fresh scent of his captive’s hair, who had just bathed in the river the night before. Rarely had these men known cleanliness, and almost as if in testament to that fact, his breath, both rank and warm, made Faramir shiver in disgust. “I am no one… I was merely traveling with these Rangers to the next town. I was…” His words were cut off as his arms were roughly jerked up behind him, causing both shoulders to pop and the strain on his almost making him sick with pain.

“Did I give you permission to speak?” One of the men behind him growled into his ear. “No… I didn’t! I think you will want to save that voice for what we have in store for you later. It has been long since we’ve seen such a lithe, unmarred body, and I know I for one will take great pleasure in marking you.”

With that, Faramir’s horse was tied to the nearest tree, and he was marched away, protesting weakly, his stomach filled with dread of what was to come.

The men who had captured him were as good as their word, and a short while later, Faramir found himself bound and naked, his hands tied to a tree limb so high above his head, his toes could barely touch the ground. The men were arguing who would have him first, and it was all he could do to stay calm. He’d never been taken before, and the thoughts of these filthy creatures being his first disgusted and horrified him. They were little more than animals, with no regard for anything but the pleasure they might find in the moment. Faramir even ventured to say that his family would pay a ransom if he was returned unharmed, though he knew in his heart that those words were false, and feared that his captors sensed it too. His father would sigh and shake his head, saying that he always knew his youngest, ‘weakest,’ son would come to no good end, and then blithely ask that Boromir, his good son, never be told the truth about how Faramir had been lost. Most likely, Denethor would say he was killed in a battle thanks to his bleeding heart, and leave it at that.

He was startled out of his daze when a hand came down hard across his ass, causing him to jerk in his bonds and whimper softly. Several of the men left the clearing to gather food, with the promise of returning to sample their new toy later that evening. Faramir was left alone with three of the men, and he knew the upcoming hours would not be pleasant, simply from the look of hatred in their eyes – hatred of all he was, and all he stood for… hatred of everything and everyone on Arda.

One of the men stood before Faramir and roughly pinched his nipples. A strangled cry fell from Faramir’s lips and his head tilted back, the unexpected pain over such sensitive skin taking him completely off guard. Another of the men stood beside him and tied a long, sturdy stick between his ankles, so that his legs stayed widely spread and as far apart as possible. He then stood and grabbed Faramir’s sex, squeezing it hard. Despite the pain and fear, the organ began to fill, which caused the man to squeeze even harder.

The steward’s son was doing an admirable job staying mostly silent as he was fondled and pinched, though his face flamed a bright red at the way his body was responding. His resolve was broken, as suddenly two spit-slicked fingers were thrust against his entrance without warning. At this action, he screamed loudly, the pain and indignation of such a brutal invasion catching him completely off guard. The fingers were pressing hard against some barrier Faramir hadn’t known existed, and the pain was incredible… but it was nothing compared to the burning agony when those same fingers pushed past the barrier and slid all the way in to the knuckle. He screamed again, and this time, a rough hand clamped down over his mouth, silencing him at once. The pain in his backside didn’t lessen – in fact, it became more intense as the thick digits began to move back and forth, cruelly stretching him in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

The man in front of him found a long, thin branch and swung it through the air several times before moving forward and striking at Faramir’s nipples. The hand was removed from his mouth, but before he could scream, a dirty rag was forced inside and tied with a long strip of leather. Even as the gag was being tied, a third finger was shoved inside him, and the switch was brought down again, this time over the head of his sex, which had grown flaccid from the pain that seemed to be racing through every inch of his body. A grimy hand pulled at the softened flesh, stretching it out in the palm of the other hand, where the switch was again applied, this time over every inch of his cock. The pain was like nothing Faramir had ever known… until the switch began striking his testicles, and the pain became so unbearable, he was almost sick to his stomach once again.

Soon, both men tired of their little games. The fingers inside him were roughly pulled away, and the next lash of the switch landed just over his opening. The pain was so intense, he tried to scream again behind the gag, but nothing came out but a helpless, strangled sob that hadn’t even fully died away before the switch was marking his backside again.

As great as the pain was, he knew it was about to get much, much worse.

Since he was of age, Faramir had known that he wasn’t attracted to women, and had dreamed of sharing his bed with another man. Over the years, he’d had many crushes, but had never made it past the stage of kissing his dates due to one reason or another – usually his father or older brother barging in and telling his partner it was time to go, or last minute nerves that this wasn’t the one. He’d known that sex between men could be painful, but had always thought that when the time was right, his first coupling would be done with love and gentleness, and the pain would be miniscule compared to the pleasure that followed. At this moment, as the men around him continued their tasks, a tear rolled down Faramir’s cheek and followed the line of his jaw.

Gods, he’d been so wrong about everything.

Many leagues away, a golden Elf named Haldir, who was patrolling the borders of Lothlorien heard Faramir’s scream. He could tell it was not from the lips of another Elf, and had it been almost any other Marchwarden, it might have been ignored. Haldir, however, heard something so desperate in the high-pitched cry that before the last echo even died away, he was sprinting in the direction from which it came. He was almost at the clearing by the time he heard the second scream, which was cut off almost as quickly as it had begun.

Moving silently to the edge of the small clearing where the torture was taking place, Haldir took in everything in one glance. The men who had been terrorizing the forest around Lothlorien had apparently found a prisoner, and like so many others, their prisoner was going to be beaten and raped, then left to hang in the tree like a common criminal. The defeated slump of the bound man’s shoulders and neck made Haldir wonder if it was already too late to save him. Still, he reasoned, he had to try. He couldn’t live with himself if he just walked away.

War for an Elf was very much unlike war for any other creature on Arda. The Elves, when they chose to fight, were perfectly silent and determined, letting nothing and no one distract them. It took only a moment for Haldir’s first two arrows to bury themselves in the gut of two of the men surrounding their prisoner, and before the third had even realized what had happened, a mithril blade was being held against his neck and the switch was being wrenched from his hand as one by one, Haldir broke the fingers holding it.

It took Haldir a bit longer to kill this one, as he drug the man in front of the prisoner so he could watch him die. All the while, he listened for the return of the others, as he knew that cowards such as the one in his deathly embrace were never man enough to travel unless they were in packs.

Finally, the blade was sheathed back inside Haldir’s belt, glistening with the dark blood of the man who was now crumpled at his feet, his life taken from him as easily as he’d been prepared to take his captive’s.

Haldir smiled encouragingly toward the man hanging from the tree, though his head was still tilted forward, and his eyes were shielded by long, ginger-colored hair. He had seen dozens of angry welts decorating the man’s backside and now, standing before him, he could see that even his genitals hadn’t been spared. The mark of the switch was dark and clear over the pale skin, and any male who had seen it would have winced. Haldir was no exception. “I have come to help you,” he said softly, resting one hand at the small of Faramir’s back to support him and quickly untied his arms from the limb above his head with the other. “Do not be afraid… we will be long gone before the rest of these filthy vermin return.”

Faramir no longer had the strength to stand, or even look up into his savior’s eyes. His legs almost collapsed from underneath him, but he was caught up in strong arms that lifted him as if he weighed no more than a child. Resting against a broad chest, he felt his rescuer gently untie the leather from behind his head and carefully pull out the rag that had been stuffed inside his mouth. The next thing he knew, a soft cloak was being thrown over him, and they were moving through the forest faster than Faramir would have thought possible. As he watched through glazed eyes over Haldir’s shoulder, he realized that for them to be moving at this speed, and with so little noise, he could only be in the arms of an Elf.

The thought made Faramir want to cry. He’d always dreamed of seeing an Elf, of touching one, but… not like this. Not when he was bleeding and broken, in so much pain, he could barely think and having the golden creature know what he’d just experienced.

Burying his face in long, silky hair, Faramir couldn’t even look up to meet Haldir’s gaze. Instead, he could only pray that the Elf would let him keep his cloak for a while after he left him by the side of the road for passing strangers to find. Or at least until he was strong enough to walk again and could find his clothes.

Many of the Elves, on the occasions when they’d rescued men or women from the evils of the forest or other passing creatures did just that – left their newly-freed prisoner where he or she would be found on a crowded road by their kin or someone from a neighboring village. Indeed, even Haldir had done this on more than one occasion, with the safety of Lothlorien always the most important task on his mind.

This time, however, rather than turning toward the road, he carried his precious bundle deeper into the forest. He didn’t stop to analyze why or what would happen next, he knew only that he couldn’t bear to leave this broken young man alone to fend for himself – at least not yet anyway.

They reached Haldir’s talan at the edge of the forest almost half an hour later. Haldir had managed to run quickly, but silently, and somehow had jarred Faramir so little that he’d finally given in to his exhaustion and fallen asleep. When he awoke, he was being gently laid down on a soft, clean bed as his savior pulled away. His backside was still burning and welted from the switch, and there was blood between his legs. In consideration of this, he was laying on his side, with the cloak lightly resting over him. It was then that he got his first glimpse of the Elf. He was, quite literally, stunning. Long blond hair seemed to glow even in the dimly lit room, and pale, almost translucent skin looked so soft, Faramir’s fingertips literally twitched with eagerness to touch it. Full lips curved up in a tentative smile and long, muscular arms that had borne him away from the pain were being as careful with him as if he could shatter with the brush of a butterfly’s wings. But the eyes were what caught Faramir’s attention the most, and he couldn’t seem for the life of him to look away. They were clear and blue, full of concern and wisdom, but at the same time brimming with compassion and a kindness that had seldom been bestowed on Faramir in all his years.

“You saved me,” he whispered softly, surprised to find his voice so hoarse. The Elf, however, seemed to understand him well enough.

Faramir’s words shook Haldir from his reverie. He too, had been entranced by the man he’d freed, and thanked the Valar that he had not taken him to the roadside, so that he might look upon him for a while longer. He had never been terribly fond of Men, thinking them crude and greedy, and only a few times in his life even thought that one of them looked pleasing, but this one – gods, he unlike any other man – or Elf – Haldir had ever seen.

“I am sorry I was not there sooner,” the Elf answered.

“At least…” Faramir finally managed to look away, mainly because he was embarrassed that this exquisite creature had no doubt seen what was being done to him. As he spoke, he face flushed a bright red. “At least they did not exactly rape me.”

Long fingers moved over Faramir’s face until their gazes met again. “What they did do to you was bad enough.”

The simple statement melted away the last of Faramir’s resolve and he began sobbing quietly. “Aye. It was bad enough.” The memories of those hateful fingers moving inside him, the humiliation of somehow being aroused at one point, the pain and shame of what they had done to him was suddenly overwhelming.

Haldir was unused to tears, and he wondered if he should leave the young man alone for a few hours until he felt better. Even as the thought ran through his mind, however, he was crawling into the bed and gathering Faramir in his arms, careful not to put any pressure over the still-fresh welts covering his body, but nevertheless holding him tightly.

“You are safe, my lovely one,” he whispered again and again against Faramir’s skin. “They cannot hurt you any more and I will give you something to help you rest until you are well again.”

The ache in Faramir’s heart and body was eased somewhat by the Elf’s embrace, and before too long, his tears slowed. “I am Faramir,” he whispered. “The second son of the Steward of Gondor. And I do not even know your name.”

“I am Haldir, a Marchwarden of Lothlorien. I was on patrol when I heard your cries.”

Faramir’s sobs had turned into hiccupping gasps for breath as he clutched at Haldir’s tunic and nodded. “They killed my men, and spared only me, though I’m not sure why.”

“You were the fairest. They always take the fairest.”

“Me? No, I…”

“Faramir, I saw your men as I came to you. They were all dead. As cruel as this sounds, I am sure the men who took you had no trouble picking you as the most attractive.”

Faramir looked up in surprise. To have this lovely creature – an Elf! – call him attractive was almost beyond belief. A part of him wondered if Haldir was only trying to make him feel better, while another part of him wondered if his words could possibly be true. He knew he wouldn’t have long – Men were seldom allowed in Lothlorien, and it would probably be only a few hours until Haldir sent him on his way, though maybe, since he was so kind, he might escort him to the next town before leaving. All his life he’d wanted this, to be close to one of the first-born, and he was certain he would never get another chance. Taking a deep breath, he pulled away and met Haldir’s gaze. “You do not find me displeasing then?” he asked, appalled at his own forwardness.

Haldir smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind Faramir’s ear. “On the contrary,” he said softly, “I find you extremely pleasing. Fairer than any Man I have ever seen, and as lovely as any Elf.”

Faramir blushed and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his tears all but forgotten, but the pain in his backside still burning a fiery red. He was a fool to ask what he was going to ask, but would have been a bigger fool not to. Men, especially ones likes him, rarely had a chance like this, and despite the pain that might follow, Faramir desperately needed one special, precious moment in his life that was his alone. “Then, before you send me away, would you… would you take me?”

Pulling back in utter shock, Haldir’s mouth dropped open and he saw that Faramir was completely serious. “Nay, I will not take you…”

“I understand,” Faramir broke in quickly, swallowing back his mortification at what he’d just asked. “I just… I thought that since I had been prepared and since I have never in all my life seen one as lovely as you… I hoped that…”

“You are in pain,” Haldir said, though he did feel something stir in his groin at the very thought of being intimate with Faramir. Never before had he been attracted to a Man, but, by the Valar, he was certain already that Faramir was no ordinary Man. “You were beaten, Faramir, and not so much ‘prepared’ as violated. I cannot – and will not – add to your pain.”

Faramir’s face was still red and he couldn’t meet Haldir’s gaze. “I understand,” he repeated, but he really didn’t. “If you change your mind, however, please know that they did not rape me, so I am still technically a virgin, and not wholly unclean, and that if you were to take me, I would not cry out as I did with them.”

“Faramir…” Haldir sighed and took Faramir’s face in his hands, forcing their eyes to meet. “You would still be in pain if I took you now, and if either of us were to touch your own sex, it would intensify the pain even more. I have seen the welts, and…”

“I know.” Faramir’s voice was small and resigned, and Haldir realized how very young he really was. “But I would gladly bear it to have known your touch, Haldir. You saved me, you look at me with more kindness than I have ever dreamed of, and, if only for a few hours, I would give anything to pretend that I am truly loved.”

The words caught Haldir completely off guard and he had to swallow back the lump in his throat. How could a man like Faramir not be loved? And how could he so innocently offer what should be given as one of the most precious gifts he possessed?

“Do you have to rush back to Gondor?” he asked after a moment.

Faramir winced as he tried to move away, but Haldir kept holding him close. He was obviously being dismissed, with the Elf already wishing him gone, so he couldn’t understand why they were still here, why these strong arms were still around him. “I will be out of your way by nightfall,” he promised.

“Faramir, you take too many thing for granted,” the blond Elf chided. “I was going to say that if you can stay for a while, I will tend to your wounds until you are well again, and then we can talk more about this.”

Raising one eyebrow in surprise, Faramir sniffed and nodded. “Then, nay, there is no one to miss me in Gondor. My mother is dead, my brother is off on a training mission and not due home for many months, and my father will be pleased that he will not have to look at me for a while.”

Haldir closed his eyes and shook his head. “Then you must stay with me, my lovely one… at least until you feel like traveling again.” Carefully disentangling himself from Faramir, the Elf stood up and gently tucked his cloak, which surprisingly enough to Faramir didn’t chafe at his welts, around him, then made his way to another part of the talan, where he gathered some tea, herbs, salve, water and a washcloth.

When he returned, he found Faramir sleeping soundly, curled around the pillow Haldir had just been resting against.

Whatever am I going to do with you, my innocent one?

Faramir slept for almost a full day, waking only when Haldir had finished tending to his wounds and helped him to drink some herb-laced tea that made him even sleepier, and dulled the pain of his injuries, even managing to soothe the muscles in his shoulders from where he’d been tied from the tree limb. The salve made most of the stripes across his back and backside stop burning, and Faramir, who was still embarrassed that Haldir didn’t want him, didn’t even take time to think that apparently, the Elf had tended carefully enough to his backside and even his entrance not to awaken him. Even his genitals were covered lightly with the cream, and at last the pain had receded enough to allow him to rest.

Determined to forget his shameful offer, Faramir refused to talk of the relatively short time he’d spent with his captors, and kept the conversation light and free, discussing books and current affairs, music and folklore. Haldir found him to be an engaging and intelligent house mate, and after only two days, was dreading seeing him go.

And so, he found ways to keep Faramir occupied, first in bed, laying beside him and sharing tales of his life, then on the balcony, where they would read and talk for hours, then around Lothlorien, where they took long walks under both the sunlight and the moonlight. Each night he would crawl into bed beside the steward’s son, wish him a good night, and turn away from him, facing the opposite wall, never letting Faramir know how difficult it was to keep his hands to himself.

Almost a week had passed when Faramir began to wonder if he’d outstayed his welcome. He was feeling much better, and his injuries weren’t really enough to warrant him staying any longer in Haldir’s talan. Every day, he wished he had never made the offer to let Haldir take him, but Haldir never brought it up. By the time Faramir had worked up the courage to ask if he should return to Gondor the next day, Haldir was telling him another tale, and then another, until Faramir completely forgot what he was going to say in the first place.

Their lives went on as such for almost a month. They enjoyed one another’s company, found they had much in common, but lived as friends – nothing more and nothing less. Neither Man nor Elf told the other how the attraction between them ate at them both day and night, nor how they wished Faramir could stay in Lothlorien. He could stay, really, if only Haldir would ask him. But Haldir could not bring himself to ask, thinking that Faramir was young and had so much time before him, so much to learn, so much to do, and he should do it all in his own world, not in one so completely different than anything he knew.

By the time other Elves – namely Haldir’s brothers, Orophin and Rúmil, – started asking questions, Haldir was hopelessly in love with Faramir. He told no one, however, and tried to convince himself that it was only a passing phase, but that little argument never quite worked.

Faramir, for his part, loved Haldir just as much, but couldn’t say so because he still felt unclean to a degree, and unworthy – and was still stung by the memory, however misconstrued, of Haldir refusing to make love to him.

It was a clear spring day when Faramir knew he had to leave, before he said something he would regret. He lay awake, staring at Haldir’s back and resisted the urge to reach out and wind a lock of hair around his fingers as he often did when he thought Haldir was still asleep. Somehow he knew the Elf was awake this morning, and wasn’t surprised in the least when Haldir rolled over and smiled at him. “Good morning.”

“I should return to Gondor.”

Haldir’s smile faded at once, though he struggled to keep his face impassive. “I see. When do you wish to leave then?”

“Today.” Faramir had to look away as he answered, and concentrate hard so his voice wouldn’t break. There was no reason to stay – Haldir didn’t want him, and who could blame him? He wasn’t exactly in the same class as some of the Elves he’d seen wandering around Lothlorien, many of whom were very open about admiring Haldir.

“I will miss you.” Haldir reached out and took Faramir’s hand, one of the first touches he’d allowed himself since he’d found him. He shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t tell Faramir that he cared at all, shouldn’t give him a reason to stay, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “I have enjoyed our time together, Faramir.”

Faramir gave a thin smile and nodded, trying his best to ignore the warmth running up his hand from Haldir’s touch. He finally managed to pull away and sat up on the side of the bed. He’d been sleeping in some of Haldir’s breeches and tunics and, since his captors had torn his own clothes to shreds, had little else to wear.

“May I wear these clothes and send them back to you later?”

“Of course.” Haldir, too, sat up and crossed the bedroom to look out over the forest.

Without another word, Faramir nodded and used Haldir’s brush, then stepped into his boots. “Would you like to walk me to the borders, Haldir?”

He should go home. He needs to be with his own people, not a city of Elves where he will never fit in. He has family in Gondor, friends, people who love him, though he might not realize that. You are no good for him.

Haldir had all intentions of letting Faramir go, of wishing him well, and bidding him a safe trip. “Why now?” He looked around the room, almost startled at himself for asking such an unexpected and completely unplanned question. “After all these weeks, why must you leave today?”

“There is no reason to stay.” Faramir looked at Haldir and tentatively reached out, letting his fingers skim over shining blond hair.

“When you offered yourself to me all those weeks ago,” Haldir murmured without turning to face his companion, “did you offer yourself to me or would any Elf had sufficed?”

Faramir took a deep breath and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was confused that day,” he confessed. “I was scared and grateful and thought I would never again have the chance to see an Elf, let alone befriend one. And so, I’m afraid that at that point, I might have offered myself to almost any Elf.”

Haldir’s hands were gripping the railing hard enough so that several small splinters dug into his hands. “Then I am glad I did not take you up on your offer. Intimacy, especially your first time, should be special and with someone you love.”

A glimmer of hope sparkled in Faramir’s heart as he saw the white knuckles on Haldir’s hands and the slump of his shoulders as he gazed off into the distance.

“What if that someone doesn’t want me back?”

Arching an eyebrow, Haldir turned to Faramir and gave him a sad half smile. “What fool would not want you?”

“The one I love turned me down… but maybe that was because I offered myself for all the wrong reasons,” Faramir whispered so softly that even Elven ears had to strain to hear him.

Haldir studied Faramir’s face. “I see.” He took a hesitant step forward and let his fingertips rub lightly over Faramir’s arm. “And were you to offer yourself again to the one that you loved, would your reasons be different?”

“Very, very much so.” Faramir gave in and curled a lock of Haldir’s hair around his finger, sighing when the Elf rested one hand on his hip and pulled him a fraction of an inch closer. “This time, I would only offer myself to him… no one else would do. You see, he could have taken advantage of me, could have taken his pleasure, unmindful of my own state of mind or my own pain. But he was too kind to do that, and he turned me down. I thought it was because, despite his words, he found me displeasing, but now… now I am not so sure.”

Soft lips twitched up in a half smile as Haldir’s hand moved from Faramir’s hip to the small of his back. “I think he should have explained himself better,” he offered. “And I think that were you to offer again, he might just have a different answer for you.”

Both Man and Elf held their breaths as Faramir lost himself in Haldir’s eyes. Licking his lips and feeling his stomach turn a sideways sort of flip inside him, he took another deep breath and held it. “Then… Haldir, would you make love to me? Would you be my first – and only – lover?”

Haldir’s answer was to seal his lips over Faramir’s in a deep, perfect kiss. The warmth of his tongue teased soft lips, then explored the wetness of Faramir’s mouth, and he wondered how on all of Arda he’d managed not to kiss this man for so long.

When they drew away to breathe, both Man and Elf’s eyes had darkened and they had somehow managed to move back to the bed. Haldir lifted his own tunic from Faramir’s shoulders, and then sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at his soon-to-be lover in a mixture of admiration and adoration. Tilting his head up, he pressed warm, wet kisses to each of Faramir’s nipples, soothing them as carefully as if they still bore the welts from the switch that had tormented them so many weeks before. Faramir’s head tilted back and he had to hold on to Haldir’s shoulders to steady himself, but he needn’t have bothered, because strong, steady hands rested on his hips and kept him upright.

Perfect Elven lips moved over his skin, across his chest, down over his stomach, stopping only to let the tongue hidden behind them slip out and dip into his navel, causing Faramir to giggle uncontrollably and release much of his tension. The next thing he knew, the breeches he’d borrowed from Haldir were around his ankles, and Haldir’s mouth was on him, sinking slowly onto his length. Shuddering as he watched the organ disappear inch by inch past the lips he’d just kissed, Faramir’s nails dug into the Elf’s tunic as he struggled not to move. “Gods, Haldir, I… Gods, I can’t think…” Even as he spoke, he felt his arousal twitch and leak onto the back of the tongue that was pressed against it, and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. The hands holding him steady began to move him, and moments later, Faramir found himself helplessly thrusting, his fingers scrambling over Haldir’s tunic and tangling into his hair, his legs moving further apart to give him move leverage. With a loud cry, he spilled down his Elven lover’s throat, convulsively clutching at everything within reach as that oh-so-wicked tongue delved into his slit and licked away the last drop as if it were the sweetest, most delicious treat Haldir had ever tasted.

Trembling in the aftermath, Faramir felt Haldir turning him, laying him gently on the bed, and then, only moments later, lying over him, somehow having taken his clothes off in the meantime as Faramir was still trying to gather his wits. He’d used his hands of course, but this… Gods, at the hands of the one you love, everything was different, so incredibly, perfectly different.

And then Haldir was kissing him again and rolling to the side, and Faramir lost all thought once more. His length was filling again and growing hard, which would have seemed impossible only a moment before, but, as the one tiny, rational part of Faramir’s mind surmised, how could anyone not be aroused when someone like Haldir was kissing them, touching them, wanting them?

His arms wound around Haldir’s neck and Faramir moaned softly, wanting more than anything for Haldir to take him. The memory of what had happened on the day they’d met was growing dimmer with every kiss, and he was almost startled to realize he wasn’t afraid in the least. Finally, he opened his eyes and saw that Haldir was reaching for the small lamp on the nightstand by the bed, and understood why they were waiting. He reached over, unscrewed the globe and quickly dipped his fingers in the oil at the bottom. Before Haldir could protest, Faramir’s legs parted and he was pressing two fingers inside his own entrance, wincing only slightly as the tight guardian muscle gave way before the pressure and the digits slid in to the knuckle.

“Slowly, love,” Haldir murmured, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around Faramir’s wrist.

“No… we can do slowly later,” Faramir protested as he scissored his fingers and felt himself opening up even more.

Haldir’s erection grew all the harder as he saw that Faramir was just as needy as he was. His fingers loosened, then trailed up to gently stroke Faramir’s reawakened arousal, and he leaned in to kiss his lover again, hoping to distract him as he prepared himself.

“Now,” Faramir panted, somehow managing to slide beneath Haldir and wrap his legs around the Elf. He shifted his hips until the felt the swollen head of Haldir’s length nudging against him, then away, then against him again. He’d been getting ready to reach back over for more oil, but as he looked down between them, he saw that Haldir’s own juices would ease the way. “Please, Haldir, by the grace of the Valar, please take me.”

Moaning softly, Haldir gasped as his oversensitized organ brushed against the slick and stretched opening again. Watching Faramir’s face carefully, he slid forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust, then further still, until Faramir found himself pushed up on the bed by the force of his lover’s movements. The pain hit him then, the fullness and the tight stretch of muscles around Haldir’s length despite his preparation. He clenched his jaw, expecting Haldir to start moving, but the Elf simply held still for a moment, then leaned forward and rained dozens of kisses over his face and neck, whispering softly for him to relax, to be patient, to please forgive him for causing this pain.

Though Faramir wondered for a moment if the pain would ever go away, he slowly felt his body accepting the intrusion and even began to welcome it. Carefully he began rocking his hips. The tip of Haldir’s cock was rubbing over something inside him, and Faramir couldn’t seem to stop moving, to stop trying to make the contact more forceful, the sensations more pleasurable.

In almost no time at all, Faramir was writhing wantonly beneath Haldir, who was having trouble staying still. When Faramir begged him to move, strong Elven hands held him still, and Haldir licked at his earlobe. “Let me do the moving for a bit, my lovely one,” he murmured as he pulled his hips back then thrust forward again, causing Faramir to cry out with pleasure.

They stopped several times, trying to prolong this, their first time together, but finally, when Haldir got too close and couldn’t hold back any longer, even when Faramir leaned up and pleaded with him to wait, he pulled his young lover up against him and promised that they would be together like this hundreds, thousands of times more, years and decades more if Faramir would have him. Hearing this, Faramir pulled back and studied Haldir’s face. What he saw there must have convinced him, for he clenched his internal muscles and met his lover thrust for thrust. Haldir reached between them to fist Faramir’s aching flesh and in almost no time at all, they were both coming together, breath and voices muffled against sweat-dampened skin, hands stroking, caressing, gathering one another close, mouths kissing and licking and whispering the sweetest names they both knew in any language.

When they could think again, Haldir gently pulled out of his lover and lay beside him. He took the corner of the blanket and cleaned them both, then pulled Faramir against him, smiling when he saw the dreamy, peaceful look in the blue eyes he so adored. “I love you, you know,” he whispered. “And I’d love to know what you’re thinking.”

Faramir yawned and snuggled closer. “I was thinking that on the day we met…” He paused when Haldir frowned at the memory of that day and shook his head. “No, love, I was thinking about what was going through my mind when those men had me. I was so scared, and I remember being brokenhearted that my first time wouldn’t be with someone I loved, like I’d always dreamed it would be. Ever since I was young, I’d dreamed that my first time would be gentle and sweet and perfect… and with the one that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. When those men were… touching me… I told myself that I’d been wrong for all those years, that my first time would now be filled with pain and humiliation and horror. Then you came along, and… here we are.” He looked up and ran his fingertips lightly over Haldir’s jaw. “So… just now, I was thinking that I was wrong about being wrong. My first time was exactly how I’d imagined it -and exactly who I’d imagined sharing it with.”

Haldir smiled and brushed the hair back from Faramir’s face. “Well, in that case, I suppose being right and wrong got a little mixed up there,” he said softly. “And you will always know that your first time was not only with someone you loved, but with someone who loved you back with every single, solitary bit of his heart… and who plans on loving you that way forever.”

“Forever sounds good,” Faramir smiled, feeling more loved and cherished than he’d ever imagined he could possibly feel. “You making love to me again right now sounds good as well…”

Arching one eyebrow, Haldir looked down between them and felt the corners of his mouth twitch when he saw that Faramir was hard again. His own answering hardness didn’t surprise him in the least.

“Gods, just moments ago, I thought I couldn’t move but now… it seems I was wrong about that too.”

“Well,” Haldir murmured as he rolled on top of his lover and slowly filled him again with his length. “Sometimes being wrong is a very, very good thing…”

The End

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