Boromir found his brother sitting against the wall in one of the balconies
opening off the throne room, pensively observing the night sky, his
slight figure hidden by the drapes. He walked up to him, and sat down
beside him, against the wall. They were high above the rest of the city.
"You're worried," he commented, not one to indulge in niceties.
Faramir did not reply.
"Is this to do with the audience you are to have with Father tomorrow?"
he tried again.
Still no answer.
"It is, isn't it?"
He got a brief nod of the head this time.
"Why do you let him worry you so?"
Faramir shrugged in response, and contented himself with picking at
the threads on his tunic.
"It's not like you've never had to answer to him in front of the
entire council."
"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Faramir muttered finally.
"Shouldn't you get used to it? Once your captaincy is confirmed
you will have to address your concerns to the entire council."
Again no response. Faramir hugged his knees close to his chest and
rested his head on them, letting the dark strands of hair fall over
his face. Boromir brushed them away and ran his fingers along the sharp
cheekbone.
"You shouldn't let him get to you like this," he murmured
softly, "At least not here in this cold."
He extended a hand to his brother.
"I can't help it," Faramir said quietly, taking the hand
and rising to his feet, "I can still remember how stern he was
the last time he called me in front of the council to explain why the
patrol couldn't capture those Orcs near the Pelennor. You remember -?
The time we were outnumbered three to one? He was sitting on that chair,
and when I saw his face I knew I'd get no help from him. And I didn't.
I can still see his face as he sat there listening to the Council censure
me. Every single step I take, I'm dogged by the memory of him sitting
there with his face so hard, telling me I'd failed. And now I'm to stand
before him tomorrow and explain why it is we let another party get away
yesterday."
Boromir moved closer and standing beside his brother rubbed his hands
up and down the slight figure.
"Don't worry," he soothed, as he guided him out of the balcony
towards the small alcove behind the drapes. The empty throne room in
front of them looked vast and foreboding, the statues of kings of yore
standing silent and solemn, "It'll be all right. You'll see. It
was not your error. I do know that. The patrol on the Pelennor is the
most undermanned unit in the army. I've tried to tell him before, but
– You could never have dealt with all of them, dearest. You have
to tell them that, or they will never authorise more men."
"How?" Faramir demanded unhappily, "I can't forget how
stern he looks."
"Maybe you could think of something else while he's sitting there,"
Boromir suggested, leaning against the wall, "Something nice and
happy?"
"Nice and happy?" Faramir snorted, leaning back into his
brother's broad chest, "Like what?"
"Like me," Boromir said helpfully, and gently nipped Faramir's
ear, smiling at the slight intake of breath from the younger man, "Like
me when I'm kissing you."
"I've forgotten how you look when you kiss me," Faramir said,
turning around, a small smile playing on his lips, "Perhaps you
could remind me?"
"Perhaps I could," Boromir mused, "And maybe I could
remind you of a few other nice things I could do to you?"
He lowered his head and captured the waiting lips in a soft kiss. They
came apart slowly, breathing a little heavily.
"Come," Faramir whispered, grabbing Boromir's wrist.
But his brother wouldn't move, "Where?" he asked.
"To your room, or mine. Soon!"
"Why?"
"So we can create those nice thoughts for me to remember when
I see father sitting on that chair tomorrow."
Boromir shook his head, smiling a little, and gently tugged Faramir
to the centre of the throne room, and then towards the Steward's chair.
"If you want nice thoughts, I think we should create them here.
So you have something nice to remember every time you're in this room."
"Here?" Faramir stared at him incredulously.
"Yes, here," Boromir said and undid the topmost binding on
Faramir's tunic.
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Because – because we can't!"
"Why can't we?" asked Boromir very patiently, as he untied
the rest of the bindings on Faramir's tunic, and slipped it off the
slender shoulders, letting it pool at his feet.
Faramir shivered slightly, partly from cold, partly from very nearness
of Boromir, who was now cupping his face in his hands.
"The floor is too cold," the younger man managed to gasp
out weakly, before his lips were captured in a soft kiss.
Boromir raised his head, amusement flickering through his grey eyes,
"Then we shan't use the floor," he said and nipped at the
curve between Faramir's neck and shoulder.
"Where - ?" Faramir gasped out incoherently, as the wandering
hands rested on his nipples and began pinching them lightly.
There was no answer as Boromir pulled him closer with one hand, and
began undoing his pants with the other. It wasn't long before he could
step out of the clothes pooled around his feet.
"Boromir –" he started a little fearfully, looking
around even though he knew there would be no one around at this time
of night.
"What?" Boromir grinned as he pulled off his own clothes,
so that both stood naked in front of the throne, the statues staring
impassively down at them.
He then climbed the steps to the Steward's chair and sat on the chair,
pulling Faramir to join him. He settled him on his lap. Faramir was
much thinner and slighter in build than he.
"There's no one here," he said reassuringly, and pulling
Faramir's head closer ran his tongue over the soft pink lips.
Faramir moaned in response, and moved closer wrapping his arms around
Boromir's neck, shifting his lower body so that he now rested on the
strong thighs, his legs folded on either side. Gently, Boromir kissed
him along his jaw, letting his tongue explore the familiar contours.
Pulling him even closer, he let his tongue slide all the way up the
jaw line, along the curve of the earlobe, his hands gently massaging
Faramir's back. Faramir whined in response, letting his head drop against
Boromir's shoulder, rubbing his temple against the bare skin.
"And what would you like to remember tomorrow?" Boromir whispered
lazily into Faramir's ear, as his hands descended lower and lower, playing
with the knots on Faramir's bony spine, gently rotating his fingers
over each little knob, knowing how Faramir loved it each time he did
that. He let his fingers travel lower and lower, until they came to
rest at the base of the spine, digging into the familiar depression
over the rounded buttocks.
Faramir raised his head, his soft, pink lips tantalisingly close to
Boromir's mouth. Boromir raised an eyebrow, more than a little amused
at the obvious change in mood. His brother seemed as determined as he
was to enjoy this moment to its fullest.
"I'd like to remember how you feel inside me," Faramir replied
huskily, before attacking Boromir's lips hungrily with his own, threading
his long fingers through his hair. He thrust his body against the older
man's letting their arousals grind together, and felt the fingers around
his waist and buttocks clench, digging into the soft flesh. He shifted
himself encouragingly. Boromir felt him move and slowly inched his fingers
closer towards the narrow cleft. Faramir moaned in response, pulling
away for air.
"Soon, please!" he gasped out, his deep grey eyes gazed into
Boromir's, the need reflected clearly in them.
For a brief second Boromir simply stared at his brother, the stormy
eyes so expressive in their desire, the raven strands of hair wildly
framing the fine features, the sculpted, lean figure seated on his lap,
wiry limbs, bony exterior yet to fill out completely.
"I love you," he murmured, brushing the hair off his cheek.
As Faramir opened his mouth to answer, he gently pushed his fingers
in, tracing the contours his lower lip, before dipping under the tongue
that Faramir was now snaking out.
When Faramir had wetted the fingers thoroughly, he pulled them out
and gently claimed the glistening lips with his own. Faramir wrapped
his arms around his brother's neck and pulled him closer, rubbing his
swollen member against Boromir's erection. He nearly bucked as Boromir
lightly brushed his fingers along the length of the cleft and brought
them to rest near his entrance. Slipping his mouth off he reared himself
up, wriggling around to allow the fingers access, his pulsing member
all the while brushing against Boromir's erect shaft, causing the other
man to hiss sharply.
He moaned as he nuzzled Boromir's shoulder. A single saliva slicked
finger slipped in slowly and gently, to be joined by a second and then
a third, and soon Faramir's little kisses were turning into bites as
the fingers moved further and further inside him, till they found the
tiny bundle of nerves.
Faramir reared up at the sensation, moaning loudly and then whined
the fingers were slowly pulled out.
They stared at each other, grey eyes meeting grey, each mirroring the
desperation the other felt. Then Faramir glanced down at Boromir's stiffening
member. Reaching down, he stroked it slowly at first and then rapidly,
inducing raspy noises from Boromir's mouth as he rubbed the leaking
release over the shaft.
Then he raised his hips to allow Boromir to slouch forward. His slender
limbs contorted sensually as he rose on his haunches, hands resting
on Boromir's shoulders, and lowered himself onto the erect shaft one
swift motion, his legs spreading automatically, till they dangled off
the arms of the chair.
Boromir pushed into him with an almost feral groan, unable to resist
the wild look that his brother presented with his sweat slicked face,
raven hair flying loose over his shoulders, and pure contentment in
his eyes. He grasped the slim waist, his fingers digging into the soft
skin yet again, as he encouraged Faramir to move. Faramir rocked into
him, allowing him to penetrate further into his tight passage, until
he suddenly gasped, throwing his head back, his back arching, his fingers
digging into Boromir's shoulder. Boromir thrust upwards once again,
striking the same spot, and then again, watching his brother's expressive
face contort in passionate delight each time. He moved his hand so that
he could support Faramir's lower back and moved the other to his pressing
erection, closing around it.
Faramir's muscles clenched at the swift stroking motion, and Boromir
could hold back no longer. He felt his release spurt out the same time
as Faramir's, as Faramir slumped forward in his arms.
They sat there for a few minutes, limp and panting softly, their combined
wetness covering their stomachs and thighs. Boromir could feel the carved
pattern of the white tree against his back, and soft, warm breaths on
his chest. He moved first, kissing Faramir lightly on his temple.
"Thank you," Faramir whispered as he rose off him slowly,
and Boromir could hear a wealth of meaning in that simple phrase. He
gently lowered the younger man to the floor.
"I *will* remember this," the younger man said needlessly
as they pulled on their clothes, and Boromir knew he was not referring
just to the next day.
Boromir smiled and wrapping an arm around his brother, led him out
of the throne room.
"Is there anywhere else that you would like to have happy thoughts
about?" Boromir inquired.
The End
