Commitment

Commitment

Posted: April 4, 2008
Title: Commitment
Author: Inwë Sáralondë
Type: RPS
Characters: ???/???
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don’t know the people portrayed in this, nor am I making presumptions about their sexual preferences.
Warnings: Lots of sex, naked bodies, showers, beds, spanking…I think you can figure out what I mean
Beta: Just me, myself and I. If you see any glitches, let me know.
Author’s Note: I normally don’t write RPS, but this is my second foray into it *sighs*. It’s all the fault of my naughty muses. I haven’t named names in this, but I’ve dropped enough clues as to who they are. This is a series of 17 300-word drabbles which I wrote in the last in a three-week period and posted on my LiveJournal.

Summary: Two people decide to make their relationship more permanent.

*****

Drabble 1

“What is this?” you ask, turning the box around in your hands, giving it a careful shake.

I smile. “Open it and see,” I say, resisting the urge to laugh at the sound of your long-suffering sigh.

“How do I know if it’s something I will like?” you ask suspiciously.

“I think you will,” I reply softly. My answer seems to reassure you, and you begin to meticulously peel away the tape. Even for such a small thing as this you will not tear the paper. When you finally expose the box, you look at me with a mixture of trepidation and hope.

“Open it,” I urge.

So you open it, slowly, hesitantly, until your eyes light upon the ring within. “It’s a ring,” you say. “A wedding ring.”

I take the opportunity to get up from my chair and kneel in front of him. “Will you…” I began, only to stop as I see a solitary tear roll down your cheek. I have not known you to cry before, and for a moment it takes me aback.

“Yes,” you whisper, touching the ring gently with your finger. “A thousand times ‘yes’.”

“You should at least have given me the chance to ask you,” I chide gently.

“Then ask, though it will not change my answer.”

I clear my throat, suddenly nervous. “Will you be my partner? I know it is not going to be easy; there are those who will shun us, not to mention the moral purists who will lambaste us from their pulpits.”

“I don’t care what others will think,” you reply. “All I want is to be with you. What is it they say: for better, for worse? I know that it will always be better.” Then you smile impishly. “How are the knees, old man?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 2

I grimace slightly. “Stop calling me ‘old man’,” I grumble. “Just because I’m going to be 50 this year…”

“I know, I know,” you chortle. “50 is the new 40 and all that crap.” You sober. “It makes no difference to me how old you are, you know that.”

I do know, but I can’t help feeling a little pessimistic, nevertheless. You are only 31, young, fit and healthy. While I might manage to fit into the ‘fit’ and ‘healthy’ categories, it doesn’t change the fact that there’s nearly 19 years difference between us.

“You’re thinking too much again,” you say, breaking into my thoughts.

“Am I?” I say mildly, rising from my knees. I wince slightly, but I put that down to kneeling down on a hard floor. My knees are doing fine, thank you very much. You, wisely, do not say anything, instead making room on the lounge for me to sit down next to you.

“Anyway, ‘old man’,” you tease, “someone has to look after you when you really do get old.” You make to evade me as I grab hold of you, enfolding you in my arms.

“Look after me?” I whisper in your ear. “Care to give me a demonstration as to how you would go about doing that?”

You look at me, your eyes darkening, your lips parting slightly. I cannot help myself; I lean in to taste you. I am addicted to how you taste, and I deepen the kiss, feeling an almost desperate need to devour you. And you let me, opening your mouth wider under mine. Finally, I have to stop, and you give a little moan of frustration.

“Bed,” I say hoarsely. My erection is pressing uncomfortably behind the zipper of my jeans, and I know you are no better.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 3

I barely finish speaking when you tug at my hand, pulling me towards the bedroom. I wince again as in our haste my leg hits the coffee table.

"I promise to kiss and make it better," you say, your lips curving into a smile.

"You'd better," I warn.

"You should know by now that I *always* keep my promises," you reply, your voice husky, and I feel my erection growing harder still. Your voice should have a warning attached to it. When aroused, your voice takes on a sensual timbre that literally sends shivers down my spine.

“I look forward to you keeping this one,” I say, and am rewarded by a smile on your face that is most definitely not innocent.

We make it to the bedroom without further incident, and immediately you begin removing your clothes. There would be those who would call it ‘indecent haste’, but I know you better than that. You like nothing more than to feel skin on skin, and I try and match your speed in removing my clothes.

“Slow, again, as always,” you tease as I struggle with the slightly recalcitrant zip on my jeans.

I poke my tongue out at you, and finally manage to get the zip open and shove my jeans down to the floor. As I step out of them, I grab your arm and pull you towards me. You sigh contentedly as you lean against my chest and wrap your arms around my waist. Our erections touch, and you press your groin closer to mine, your hips swivelling slightly as you rub your erection against mine. The heat between us mounts.

“I’m glad you don’t have those ‘tattoos’ any more,” you say, nuzzling my neck.

My hands splay across your buttocks, pushing you closer to me still.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 4

“I know you didn’t like them,” I say.

“I’m just glad that they weren’t real,” you reply. “But trust you to get them right, down to the last detail.”

“They had to be. You know full well I don’t do things by halves.”

“Oh, I *do* know that,” you purr. “It’s one of your redeeming qualities.” Your groin grinds into mine, and my erection is leaking copiously. But so is yours. It will not take much for either of us to explode, except I want to be inside you when I do. You seem to know what I’m thinking, for you say, “So what are you waiting for, old man? An invitation?”

I give your arse a sharp slap, then sooth the spot by gently rubbing over it. “Behave,” I say, but you give a slight shake of the head.

“Don’t want to.” You look at me, your eyes dark, your lips slightly parted. “I’ve actually been quite naughty today, so you might want to punish me.”

I pause in my ministrations to look at you. “Punish you?” I ask. “Is that what you want?”

“Hmm,” you murmur. “I do. Shall I tell you how naughty I was?”

I’m puzzled by all of this, for it seems sudden. “I don’t understand,” I say. “What brought this all about?”

You seem to sense the trepidation I feel, for you reach up and touch my face with your hand. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable,” you say, contrition in your voice. “It’s just…I rather liked you giving me that slap and…well…” You lower your eyes, and then raise them again. “I want you to spank me,” you whisper. “But I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”

I am silent, taking in what you have said. In truth, I am intrigued.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 5

“I’m sorry I brought this up.” You have taken my silence as disapproval, and I quickly move to reassure you.

“Don’t apologise,” I say. “We’ve never done anything like this before, so you’ve caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

You look at me. “But you don’t want to do it.”

I shook my head. “I never said that. I’m not closing my mind to it, but I just need a little time to get used to the idea, okay?”

“Okay.” Your voice is quiet, and I sense that it’s because you still feel you have somehow offended me with your suggestion.

“I love you,” I whisper in your ear. You turn your head and capture my lips in a kiss that leaves me in no doubt that you love me too. You tangle your fingers in my hair to the point where it almost painful, but I do not demure. Instead, I let you devour me. There is hunger, need, desperation in your kiss, as if this were the last time. But it’s not.

“Want you inside me,” you say huskily, breaking the kiss. “Want you so badly. Please…”

I stare into your eyes. They are bright, as if from unshed tears, and for a moment I feel anger. This is not you. You’re not normally so emotional, so…clingy. I grab your hand and almost drag you towards our bed. Sitting down, I pull you so that you lie over my thighs, your arse tantalisingly within reach of what I’m about to do. I bring my hand down, and you gasp and squirm slightly. “You’ve just given me a reason to punish you,” I growl. I bring my hand down again and again until your arse is flushed a rosy red, and my hand is tingling.

“More,” you plead. “More.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 6

I hear your plea, but I don’t wish to indulge you any further. I know you are turned on by it; your erection is like steel against my leg, pre-come dripping copiously. What stuns me, however, is that I am just as much turned on by it as you are. My own erection is like yours, and I feel the sudden, almost vicious urge to slam myself into your reddened arse to sate my lust. And, just as quickly, the urge disappears, leaving me trembling almost in shock. For a moment, I despise myself, and I lower my hand, resting it against my leg.

“Are you alright?” you ask, turning your head to look at me, concern etched on your face.

I give a weak laugh. “I should be asking you that,” I say, staring down at your red arse. I help you off, but restrain you from sitting. “I need to get cream or something…” I look helplessly at my lover, ashamed of what I had done, even if he *had* wanted it.

You sit down anyway, wincing slightly as you do so. “You have a bit of a heavy hand,” you say ruefully, but all you succeed in doing is adding to my guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper contritely, taking you in my arms. “I’m so sorry.” I bury my face in your hair, shutting my eyes tightly against the tears that are now rising in them. “Forgive me,” I say, my voice hoarse, and I feel you tense slightly.

“Forgive you?” I hear you say incredulously. “I *wanted* this, damn you!” There is rising anger in your voice. “Don’t start taking some high moral road with me,” you warn as you disengage yourself from my arms. “I was turned on by it, and so were you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 7

I cannot deny what you say, but it does not assuage the guilt I feel. I have never done this before; the fact that I *was* turned on by it, in truth, is both puzzling and frightening. I am no innocent, of course. I am well aware that many enjoy something like this. But I never saw myself as one of their number.

“Yes, I did enjoy it,” I say carefully. “This,” I continue, indicating to my still hard and now aching erection, “is very much proof. But the fact that I did frightens me a little.” You open your mouth to say something, but I raise my hand to forestall you. “I think I enjoyed it *too* much,” I say quietly. “In the end it was not so much as giving you something you wanted; it was that I could have easily gone too far.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you say with certainty, but I shake my head.

“Yes, I would have,” I say firmly. “Your arse is red and sore, and will be for a little while yet.”

“And that’s a problem?” you ask.

I wonder for a moment how I should phrase my words, and then decide to be blunt. “It was because I had the urge to fuck you. Not make love to you, but fuck you. Shove my cock up your arse without preparation, nothing, and pound you into the mattress. I’m not vicious. This is not like me at all, and you know it. I would have hurt you, and that is the last thing in the world I would ever do.”

You are quiet, your face reflective. It seems what I have said has given you food for thought. “I trust you,” you say finally. “I know *you* will know when to stop.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 8

“I don’t know if I can trust myself.” There, I have said it.

“So your spanking me wasn’t the issue; it’s how you reacted to you it,” you say, pushing me so that I am lying on the bed. “I think I understand,” you murmur, before leaning down to kiss me. “If it’s any consolation,” you continue after breaking the kiss, “I’m not into BDSM. That is most definitely not my scene.” There’s a smile on your lips, and I can’t help but smile back. “Let me make love to you,” you whisper. “I’ve got a hard, needy cock, and I bet you have a needy hole that it can go into.”

Your words send a further rush of blood to my groin, which is probably the last thing it needs. I’m ready to explode, literally. I know it would only take one touch and I would erupt like some teenage boy on his first time.

“I thought you wanted me to make love to you,” I say.

You shake your head. “That can come later. I think you need me to make love to you. I guess it’s my way of saying that I will always love you, always trust you. First, though,” you say, a mischievous glint in your eyes, “there’s something that I need to take care of.”

As my brain tries to assimilate what exactly you are referring to, my erection is engulfed in the warm heat of your mouth. As anticipated, I am soon shooting my load down your throat, my mouth open in a silent scream. When it’s all over, I am trembling from the aftershocks, and my body is covered in sweat. To say that it had been intense would be an understatement. I lie there and try and get my breath back.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 9

You raise your head, and I see a trickle of my come at the corner of mouth. You realise it too, and raise a finger to wipe it away, placing the finger in your mouth. Your eyes are half-closed; in short, you look like the proverbial cat that got the cream. “Mmm…as always, you taste good,” you say huskily. “Very, very good.”

“Damn you,” I mutter. “You knew what was going to happen when you did that, didn’t you?” The wide grin on your face is enough of an answer, and I reach up to pull you down on top of me. You, of course, are still hard, and my mind goes back to what you said before. “I want you,” I whisper into your ear. “Grab the lube from the drawer.”

“Not just yet,” you say smugly. “I can hold out a little longer than you, *old man*.” Your voice is teasing, and I growl in frustration. You shake your finger at me. “Uh, uh. You’re going to lie there and take whatever I dish out, got that?”

My eyes widen slightly at your words. Then they flutter shut as you lean down and gently kiss the side of my neck. You continue down, scattering soft kisses on my chest. Your teeth bite gently on my nipples before laving them with your tongue, and my breathing becomes shallow. My fears from before are now well and truly dissipated and I feel somehow…blessed. Blessed that you love me, blessed that you trust me, blessed that you understand my fears. Few can say that.

“You’re thinking again.”

So lost am I in my thoughts that I hadn’t realised you had stopped what you were doing. “How would you know?” I ask.

“I can literally hear the cogs turning in your brain.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 10

“Perhaps you’re not trying hard enough,” I counter, throwing out the challenge. I can see by the gleam in your eyes that the challenge has been accepted.

“Not trying hard enough?” you say quietly, and a frisson of expectation runs down my spine. You reach over to the draw to pull out the lube, and I spread my legs in invitation. “I’ll show you ‘not trying hard enough’.”

I smile. “I love you,” I say, and you halt momentarily. Your eyes soften slightly, and you lean down to kiss me gently on the lips.

“I love you, too,” you say. “And soon people will learn how much, and that what we have is no illusion.” You cover your fingers with the lube before tossing it back onto the bedside table. With one finger, you circle my entrance, teasingly, fleetingly, all the while watching me. I spread my legs a little wider and bring my knees to my chest, and you smile at my blatant attempt to make you do more. So you continue to tease and frustrate me.

“Please…” I am not above begging.

“Please *what*?” you counter, an almost feral smile on your lips.

“Stop teasing me,” I whisper. “I want you inside of me. Love me…” My breath hitches slightly as your finger breaches me. You don’t waste much time in adding a second, then a third, before pulling them out and liberally applying lube to your erection. Your movements are hurried, but I refrain from saying anything. You push in and then pause, albeit only briefly, and then you begin to move, your balls slapping against my arse as your movements become faster, harder. Your hand grasps my newly hard shaft, and I have no choice but to fall over the edge with you as you come.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 11

It is at least a couple of hours later when I wake up. You are curled up in my arms, your head resting on my chest. I tighten my grip slightly, but you yourself do not wake. Instead, you try and press yourself closer to me.

I grimace slightly at seeing my dried come on my chest and stomach. A shower is definitely in order for both of us, and I look down at you once more. The idea of showering together holds a great deal of appeal. Already I feel myself growing hard – again – at the thought of soaping you, caressing every inch of that delectable body of yours. And perhaps, just perhaps, I’ll make love to you in the shower as the water cascades down our bodies. I can see that the redness of your arse has subsided, but I suspect it’s still going to be sore. I bury my face in your hair. No matter how many times you tell me you trust me, I’m not going to do it again. Knowing that I hurt you, even if unintentionally, even if because you wanted me to do it, has hurt me more than you could possibly ever know.

You stir slightly, and your eyes open. “Hi there,” you say. Your voice is a little husky from sleep, and you have no idea how sexy it sounds.

“Hi yourself,” I respond, giving you a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Shower?” I continue, and you nod your head, yawning.

“You going to wash me?” you ask. Your eyes are now focussed on my face, and I can see the expectation in them.

“Of course, and more besides, if you want.” I leave it to you to work out what that more could be, and it does not take long.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 12

I adjust the water until it’s the right temperature and step in. You follow immediately behind me and press yourself against my back.

“I’ll never ask you again.” As always, you know me too well. You know that what happened before would have still preyed on my mind.

“Thank you,” I whisper, turning so that I was now facing you. There is such a sweet smile on your face that, for a moment, I want to cry.

“You’re being an idiot, old man,” you scold, as if sensing my emotions.

I give a sheepish smile. “Probably,” I concur, “but only for you.” I clear my throat and reach for the washcloth and shower gel.

Your eyebrows rise slightly. “Oh, yes, please,” you murmur.

I pretend not to know what you’re talking about. “Yes, please, what?” I ask, and you give such an adorable little pout that I can’t help myself and laugh. The pout becomes more pronounced, this time in mock anger.

“Come here, you prissy elf,” I say when I get my breath back, pouring some of the gel on the washcloth.

“Not a prissy elf,” you say petulantly, but you move closer to me and I begin to gently wash you. My rhythm is slow, unhurried as every so often I reapply gel onto the washcloth before continuing to wash you. Your eyes are closed and you tremble slightly as I pay particular attention to your cock and balls. You are hard again, and you make a little keening noise as I brush the cloth over the sensitive head.

Washing you does not leave me unaffected – it never does – and I cannot wait any longer. I put the cloth away and reaching for the lube that always has permanent residence in the shower and start slicking my fingers.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 13

“Shall I assume the position?” There is a teasing, almost laughing, note in your voice, yet the question is superfluous; already your back is to me, your hands braced against the shower wall. Your head, though, is turned towards me, and your eyes, normally a chocolate brown, have darkened to almost obsidian, and I find myself mesmerised by them.

I lean forward slightly to kiss you while, at the same time, my fingers unerringly find your opening. I thrust three fingers inside, and you gasp in my mouth, but it is not from hurt. You know what it means, though. It means that I need you, that I’m going to take you hard, fast. Normally it’s not like this. Usually I like to take my time, teasing you to the point where I leave you writhing and moaning – very much like you did with me before. But I’m well past the point of doing that now. My preparations are almost cursory, yet you show your eagerness by fucking my fingers, giving away your desperation at wanting to be filled by my cock. I manage to put some lube on my erection before aligning myself and pushing inside. Your fingers scrabble on the smooth tiles, trying to find some purchase, and I put my arm around your waist to steady you as I thrust in and out.

Your head falls back on my shoulder, and I take the opportunity to suck at the base of your throat, leaving a mark. You moan and keen, and the noises you make only serve to excite me even further. My thrusting becomes erratic; I know I am close. “Make yourself come,” I rasp, looking down to watch you take your cock in your hand. You jerk yourself once, twice, three times before you explode.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 14

Your come spatters the tiles, which is almost immediately washed away by the water. I can hold back no longer and I shoot my load inside you, and your arse spasms from the aftershocks of your orgasm, milking my cock of every last drop. I am trembling, and I lock my knees to stop myself from collapsing onto the shower floor.

We stand there, hearts beating wildly, water sluicing down our bodies in steady rivulets as we both try to get our breath back. Your arms drop down limply to your sides, and you lean back against me. “Wow,” you murmur.

“Wow?” I echo, amused. “Only ‘wow’?”

You turn your head and glare at me. “You expect me to say something more coherent after mind-blowing sex like that?” you grouse. “You still got it in you, old man.”

I smirk. “Of course I do,” I say a little arrogantly, but there is a smile in my voice. “So less of that ‘old man’, prissy elf.”

You turn so that you are facing me and place your arms around my neck. “You’re always going to be my ‘old man’,” you whisper before leaning in to kiss me. Our kiss is slow, languorous, our tongues twining in an age-old dance. My hands roam your body, exploring and rediscovering dips and hollows, angles and contours. Finally, we break the kiss. “Time we got out of the shower,” you say.

I nod in agreement, turning the water off while you reach around me for our towels. We end up drying each other off and, once dry, I lead you back into the bedroom and we both lie down on the bed. You snuggle up in my arms, and I place a chaste kiss on your forehead. Our eyes close, and soon we are asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 15

The day of our commitment ceremony starts out cloudy, but gradually the sun breaks through until everything is bathed in gentle warmth.

I am nervous – how can I not be? – as I adjust my tie for what seems like the millionth time. I can’t stand wearing them, but I make the effort, especially as you have chosen the outfit for me to wear. I straighten the suit jacket – Armani, no less – and scrutinise myself in the mirror. I smile briefly; I don’t scrub up too badly, and I take a deep breath to steady my nerves.

The press, of course, had a field day when we announced what we were going to do. As expected, there were those who criticised us and made their usual dire predictions that we would burn in the fires of hell. But the messages of support far outweighed them, while many in our industry went so far as to ask why we had taken so long.

I pat the pocket containing the ring. I know you have since organised a ring for me, but I have not seen it, as you wanted instead to wait until the ceremony proper before I did. I don’t mind; I know I will like whatever you have done.

Our families are here, both real and otherwise. For the first time in goodness knows how long the Fellowship is together again, each of them juggling their schedules to be here. Sean is the only one who has brought a ‘significant other’ – his wife Georgina who he only just married recently. “Can’t seem to stay away from marriage,” Sean had quipped after introducing her to us. He’s the first to admit that he doesn’t have a great track record where marriage is concerned, but it doesn’t stop him from trying again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 16

“Stop fidgeting!” my son hisses at me, and I spare him a quick glance before tugging at my tie again. I hear a sigh, and I know it’s one of resignation. I turn fully to face him, catching him shaking his head. “He’ll be here in a minute, Dad,” he says.

I nod, not quite trusting myself to speak. Again I repeat in my mind the vows that I had written and memorised, at the same time hoping I wouldn’t stumble over the words when the time came to actually say them.

“You’ll be fine, Dad, so stop worrying, okay?” My son’s voice contains a hint of exasperation.

“Okay,” I finally croak out.

“Ribbet,” my son says, and I chuckle. I definitely had sounded like a frog, and his attempt at humour helps me to relax, though not by much.

The door opens, and I turn to watch you walk in. You look impeccable. The mid-grey suit, teamed with the pristine white shirt and dark purple tie, fits you like a glove. You walk towards me, an almost shy smile on your face. “Hey,” you say, stopping before me and giving me the once over. “Not bad,” you say, reaching up to readjust my tie. “You’ve been fiddling around with it, haven’t you?” you accuse, though your voice is gentle.

I smile a little sheepishly. “You know me too well,” I confess, my own hand reaching up to softly caress your cheek. We gaze at each other, losing ourselves in each other’s eyes, and time seems to stop.

There is a groan from next to us. “Do you think we can get on with it?” my son complains, once again shaking his head. “Everyone’s going to start falling asleep otherwise.”

You and I just look at each other and grin.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drabble 17

The ceremony is over, and the party is now in full swing. Dom and Billy, already with a few drinks under their belts, have cleared a table and are now standing upon it, singing lustily. It brings to mind scenes in the ‘Fellowship’ films where they did exactly the same thing, and I smile. Looking across to you, I see that you are grinning madly at our friends’ antics.

You must sense my eyes upon you, for you turn and look at me. Once again I find myself drawn into the depths of your beautiful eyes. I could happily lose myself in them and remain lost in them forever. It was your eyes that drew me to you the first time we met, the colour of molten chocolate that teased and tantalised me. I didn’t like it when you had to put in the coloured contacts; while the blue eyes suited your role as the elf, the colour wasn’t you.

“You realise you’re staring at me, old man.” All of a sudden you are right in front of me, and I blink.

“Was I?” I say, taking you in my arms. “Is there something that says I shouldn’t look at you?”

“You mean, apart from the fact that everyone is staring at us with knowing expressions on their faces?”

I look around. Sure enough, a number of guests *are* staring at us. Ian, the rogue, gives us a wink before raising his glass. I turn back to you, and I know there’s a mischievous glint in my eyes. “Let’s really give them something to stare at,” I say, leaning towards you and claiming your lips in a searing kiss.

Vaguely I hear the sounds of catcalls and whistles, but I don’t care. And something tells me that you don’t, either.

*****

THE END

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