Arrangement of Thorns

Posted: May 2003
Author: Kharessa Bloodrose

*****

Part Fourteen

When he awoke it was Elladan who was holding him. Erestor was gone; out of the corner of his eye he could see a note on the bedside table, but could not summon up sufficient curiosity to reach for it. It was uncharacteristic of Erestor to bother leaving them any sort of explanation for his behavior, but it might not be an explanation. Perhaps it was more orders; maybe it was instructions for Elladan to change the sheets. He neither knew nor cared.

Elladan was awake. This was not the first morning that he'd regained focus cradled close to his brother, but it was the first morning on which he did not immediately extricate himself. It felt good to be held. Elrohir did not feel so piteously dazed as he had the previous night, but neither did he want to be left alone. He snuggled against Elladan, refused to think about anything at all.

"Good morning, little brother." Elladan ruffled his hair. "How are you?"

"Guess."

"Sore and wanting to be close?" Elladan kissed his forehead gently. Elrohir felt a brief flash of aimless rage. It flared brightly for a moment, and then mercifully faded. He sighed.

"Aye. I guess you would know."

"Erestor's made excuses for us to father. We'll stay here today."

"Excuses? Stay?" Elrohir glanced up, ignored the pressure of Elladan's erection against his hip. Ignoring things, he reflected, was something he was becoming good at.

"Well, father would have been expecting to see us at breakfast. We forgot to mention last night that we were going to ride out to the border today and wouldn't be back until late tomorrow. Since we haven't had much time together, lately."

"What about Glorfindel tomorrow? And our horses? I hadn't planned on spending my entire weekend in Erestor's bed chamber!"

"Erestor will take care of Glorfindel, and I'm sure our horses are already out of sight. As for the other, we thought you could use the rest."

Elrohir turned his head, glared up at the ceiling. He was trapped. There was no threat of chains and beatings, but once again if he turned his back on them it would be at Elladan's expense. And Erestor's also, this time. He thought about that, frowned. The lie Erestor had told involved all of them; he had put himself at equal risk, had hinged their fate on Elrohir's choice.

"Erestor ran a bath for you. The water should still be warm."

He didn't want to move from the comfort of Elladan's arms, but he did so nevertheless. Every muscle in his body ached, and the promise of warm water was an irresistible lure. Elladan helped him out of bed, half supported him for a moment while he regained his bearings. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged off Elladan's arm and stepped shakily toward the private bath.

"It always amazes me what Erestor can do with a leather belt."

"Is that what it was?" Elrohir's voice was strained.

"I'm guessing so, by the marks." He touched Elrohir's back lightly. The younger twin winced, glared back at his brother. "One of the narrow ones. The wide belts don't hurt so much, or mark quite so well."

Elrohir made no response. He let his brother help him down into the inset bath and settled on the ledge. The heat of the water was sheer bliss, and he closed his eyes, let his head loll back. Elladan smiled.

"Thank you, Elrohir." He said as he settled in beside him. His brother cracked an eye open, cast him a bemused glance.

"For what?"

Incredibly, Elladan blushed. "I didn't think you would do it, for a moment. When we were on the bed together."

Elrohir returned his gaze to the ceiling. "I told you I would not refuse you again."

"But still." Elladan shifted in the water, reached for a decorative bowl containing wash cloths, soaps, shampoos and pomades. "Let me help you?"

Elrohir nodded. Elladan's hands were gentle as they carefully took down his hair. He did not pull or snag the tousled tresses, but ran the silver comb that had been on the tray through them with skillful ease. This, at least, was familiar. They had been taking care of each other's hair since they'd been elflings, and had often joked that their hair would become rat's nests if they were ever parted.

"I've never done that before." Elrohir said abruptly.

"I know." He cupped his hand at the nape of Elrohir's neck, indicated to him that he wanted him to scoot forward and lean back. His brother complied, allowing Elladan to soak his dark locks. "You did fine."

The look Elrohir cast him was meant to be sarcastic. It reflected nervousness instead, and a touch of insecurity. Elladan kissed him lightly on the cheek as he pulled Elrohir back upright.

"That was not the best of circumstances or positions to do that in." The movement of his fingers was soothing as they worked the shampoo into his hair, rubbed against his scalp. "Were you scared?"

"Aye." His eyes darted to the side, a muscle in his jaw twitched. "You make me feel like I'm on fire, drowning in flames and loving it."

"You make me feel that way, too. Just looking at you makes me feel that way."

"Have you considered masturbating in front of a mirror?" Elrohir asked caustically, and Elladan chuckled.

"Actually, yes."

"Conceited bastard."

"It's not your appearance that makes me feel that way. And I promise not to tell father you said that."

Elrohir gaped at him, and then laughed, surprising both of them. Elladan grinned as he soaped the wash cloth. Apparently he had meant it when he'd asked to help. Elrohir was still chuckling as he reached to take the cloth from him.

"I can wash my own face. And other parts."

"Let me? Please?"

It was easier to comply then to argue, and Elladan's gentle ministrations felt good, relaxing. He had not been given a bath since distant childhood, and he found it oddly comforting. Elladan was careful as he ran the cloth over his back, made sure to hold him at the hip rather than wrapping his arm around Elrohir's waist when he pulled Elrohir up to his knees to soap his welted buttocks and thighs. Elrohir rested his face against his brother's shoulder, gave himself up to sensation as their soaped bodies slid together and the soft, nubbly cloth moved over sore, aching flesh.

They separated. Elrohir gazed at his brother through eyes dilated almost to blackness, and Elladan smiled as he settled lower in the water before him, lifted each of Elrohir's legs in turn as he continued to soap his fair skin.

"Would you? Again?" Elladan asked softly. His head was bowed to his task, the ends of his hair trailing in the water as he washed Elrohir's feet.

"Are you making a request?"

Elladan glanced up, met lazy, half closed eyes. "I wouldn't ask for anything I would not be willing to give in return."

"I know, Elladan." He scooted forward again, arched back. Elladan held his breath. "Rinse my hair for me. Then let's go back to bed."

*****

In Erestor's arms Elladan was all Erestor's, utterly focused on him, basking in whatever attentions Erestor chose to bestow upon him. Elrohir had felt fury at the way Elladan would ignore his fear and discomfort to please Erestor, but though he did not want to admit it that fury was only a thin layer over simmering jealousy. Elladan was Erestor's, and he could touch and be touched by Elrohir, but only at Erestor's pleasure, only for his amusement. That was the line Elladan had drawn, finer and fainter than the one Elrohir had attempted to hold, but still there nevertheless. It was Elladan's defense against conscience; that what pleased Erestor also pleased him was purely incidental.

In Erestor's absence there was less balletic motion, more awkward shyness. Elrohir had been quietly captivated by the artfulness of Elladan's movements with Erestor, the emphasis upon beauty of form and motion in all that he did. Now there was no performance, could be no performance when Elladan knew that Elrohir needed more than a show to watch, needed intimacy instead of the breathless wonder of watching his posed body, languid movements, acquiescence. Art and jealousy were forgotten as Elrohir became the focus, and careful touches replaced the sensual dance as that last shallow line was crossed.

This time it was easier to slide Elladan's rigid sex past his lips; he had more time for the wet dance of experimentation, familiarization. He had been in a daze of pain and ecstasy the first time, barely understanding his brother's soft command until he'd felt hard flesh against his lips. That had been fright and desire, humiliation and bliss all bound into one, urge to give back as well as he'd been given shot with bright flares of denial. It hadn't mattered. He had not asked Erestor to stop in the one way that he would listen to, had struggled to lick, suck and swallow while being taken roughly, sweat stinging in fresh wounds, hands on his hair and hips, near to choking and inexplicably trying to give more, more than what his position and experience could allow.

Now he had time to lick teasingly, to explore the smooth skin around Elladan's slit, flick his tongue around the mushroom cap head, follow the ridge with his tongue, taste, take his time. Elladan whimpered and cried out, called his name with hands clenched in the sheets, but he still took his time, forearm across his brother's abdomen, holding him down and relatively still. Finally Elrohir took him between his lips, opened for the slide of thick, slick hardness over his tongue, rode the rising swell of Elladan's hips as he took as much as he could and then tried for more.

He knew he had grazed him a few times on the previous night, and though Elladan had not seemed to have minded he was more careful this time. Nothing but soft, nothing but wet. He fought his gag reflex and won, relaxed his throat and moaned softly around the heated flesh at the sound of Elladan's responsive cries. Inhale and exhale, suction, pirouette of tongue, and now Elladan's fingers were running roughly through his hair, snagging as they had not done while he had been combing it, shaking, trembling.

Elrohir lifted Elladan's thighs over his shoulders as he increased his efforts, felt the tensing in leg muscles and buttocks as Elladan neared his release. For a brief moment their eyes met as he took Elladan all the way in, tried to swallow, failed, tried again more successfully. Elladan's soft wails became stuttering cries, and he arched upward, Elrohir's name on his lips. Rigid heat convulsed; the back of Elrohir's throat filled with liquid salt as Elladan gasped his name.

His body quivered with delicious spasms as Elrohir covered him, covered his lips with his own. It seemed that Elladan sought his own flavor as he opened to him, did not merely allow the kiss but joined in it. Their tongues slid together, entwined, sucked in imitation of the act that had just been performed. At last they parted, and in the soft breeze of warm breath against his face, Elrohir heard his brother whisper.

"Have me, Elrohir."

He did not want to think, argue, or discuss. Not when Elladan lay beneath him, limp with pleasurable exhaustion, slick lips parted, hips pressing upwards in a slight but insistent rhythm. He fumbled for the drawer in which Erestor kept the oil, came up with the jar of balm instead.

"That will work."

Scent of herbs, more like to perfume than to medicine. Elladan's legs were parted still, splayed as he had left them when Elrohir had let them drop from his shoulders. This was new, too; Erestor had taken him many times, but had never given himself to Elrohir. Even so he moved surely, brushed his slick finger against Elladan's opening, pushed his thighs further apart with his other hand.

He moved with maddening care, finger penetrating the ring of muscle, sliding within as if he were the first the invade this intimate darkness. Elladan pulled his legs back, braced his knees high and wide, and Elrohir shuddered deliciously, bit his lip as he worked in a second finger, then a third. Elladan was incredibly hot, tight, eager. His head was arched back on the pillow, eyes shut, lips parted to grant escape for the soft mewling sounds he was unable to restrain. Elrohir sought the secret nub of desire within him, crooked his fingers, circled, corkscrewed. At last he found it, watched in pleased lustfulness as Elladan bucked against him, gritted his teeth against more strident cries.

"Take me, Elrohir, take me, take me, please…"

His words trailed off into incoherent pleas. Only Elrohir's name could be discerned in the wave of inchoate sound, and it was that which made Elrohir move though he'd meant to make this last longer. His own desire was full, hot, needing to be sated and Elladan was ready, wanting, needing. He took his cock in hand, placed it at the entrance of Elladan's body, surged forward.

"Oh, Elladan…" He whispered shakily as he sheathed himself in a slow, fluid glide, began thrusting within him. Hot confines, slick tightness enclosing him, dance of muscle and welcoming upward push of hips. All thought was driven from his mind by the glove-like closeness, the velvet of interior muscle clamping and releasing. His hips and thighs worked in an increasing rhythm that Elladan easily met, his hands trailed over the pale skin of Elladan's chest and belly in a dance that was more frenetic than graceful. At last he locked a hand around his brother's member, stroked it in time with his movements within him.

He struggled to hold back, to wait for Elladan, but the sensation was too much, the building waves of pleasure too strong. He felt himself teetering at the edge of release, heard his own moans of incipient completion flowing nearly constantly. Then he was falling, ecstasy compounded upon ecstasy, and Elladan was falling, too. Muscles contracted about his length, milked him, drove him to new heights that he had never known existed. Hot seed spilled over his hand as he spent himself deep within his brother's body, and at last he fell forward atop Elladan.

"Love you so much, Elrohir." Elladan whispered against his neck, breath tickling his ear.

"Love you, too." He knew they should rise and clean themselves, but he did not want to move, wanted to stay wrapped in Elladan's arms as he had wanted to stay this morning. He reached to touch Elladan's face, began to retract the motion as he remembered sticky wetness coating his fingers.

Elladan caught his wrist, brought his fingers to his lips. Licked them slowly, sensually. Elrohir felt heat twisting within him as he watched, felt the lazy stir of arousal re awakening.

"I'm glad we'll be staying here all day." Elladan murmured around his index finger, and Elrohir nodded, breathless.

"How long until Erestor comes back?"

"Several hours. Let's make the most of them." His smile was slow and wicked, and Elrohir nodded his agreement, leant to kiss his delectably curved lips.

*****

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