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Smut-Takes (and Other Outtakes Too)

Summary:

A collection of all of the random Russingon smut scenes that I wanted to write but couldn't fit into my main fic. Alternate title: A Chronicle of Maedhros Getting His Ass Wrecked.

Chapter 1: Findekáno learns to give a BJ in Valinor during the Years of the Trees.

Chapter 2: Finger-banging and dirty talk

Chapter 3: Family time followed by an ill-advised forge fuck

Chapter 4: Maitimo being a cocktease, followed by hot spring dick-riding, followed by Tyelkormo and Curufinwë being the asshole brothers

Chapter 5: Maitimo submits to a conversations about kinks, boundaries, and even safe words so that Finno will shut up and spank him already (takes place between chapters 2 and 3)

Chapter 6: Bath-time masturbation has a very happy ending

Chapter 7: Mutual masturbation, involving sex toys, and ending in more blowjobs

Chapter 8: Carnistir gets engaged in spite of himself, and he's so wrapped up in his own personal life that he fails to notice the Russingon smut playing out just under his nose.

Chapter 9: Maitimo gets tied up. With work, of course. (I swear, I will never make that joke again. Probably.)

Chapter 1: Sexual Instruction: Blowjobs

Summary:

Summary: While camped on Tol Eressëa, Findekáno attempts to return a favor. (He learns how to give a blowjob without choking on cock.) This takes place directly after the last scene of chapter 6 of my main fic, just after they’ve admitted that they would like to fool around on the regular and Maitimo sucked Findekáno’s fëa out through his dick. 

Chapter Text

As soon as he had Maitimo on his back on the cot, Findekáno rushed in to please him. He knew that he had asked for instruction, but the sight of Maitimo propping himself up on his elbow, his bright, copper-colored hair flowing over his hröa, unbound except for the small plaits that Findekáno had set in place, drove him wild. The ropes that Findekáno had used to bind behind his hands behind his back while Finno had fucked his throat against the cabin wall had left clear marks on his wrists, and that sight made Findekáno’s mouth water. So did the sight of Maitimo’s cock. Findekáno found that he was just secure enough in his feelings now to admit that to himself and to let it show on his face. 

Maitimo’s cock was unfairly pretty and appealing. It was longer than Finno’s, though not as thick, and it was already more than half erect under Finno’s gaze, after his promises to suck it. It was pale, almost as pale as the rest of Maitimo, except for the head, which was flushed just a bit darker than the rest of it. 

Finno simply could not hold himself back, especially not when he considered that he had only managed to bring Maitimo off with his hands. His friend-turned-lover had not seemed to mind at all, but Finno minded. His new lover was more experienced, had received more before, and Finno felt a growing, burning need to outdo all of them so that Maitimo would forget that they had ever existed. He was still not entirely comfortable with his newfound possessive feelings, but they were only fueling his lust and inspiring him to improve his own performance in bed, so he let them roil within him. He would try to understand them and reason them away later. 

Besides, Maitimo was staring at him, eyes wide with need and longing, and Finno was confident that his new lover had never looked at a previous nér witn that much desire, no matter how many that he had. 

So, Findekáno pounced, eagerly drinking in the bitten back curse that Maitimo let fall from his full lips as Finno wrapped his lips around his lover’s cock. He supposed that he should have exercised some moderation, but he remembered how easily Maitimo had taken Finno down his throat. 

So, he went for it, sucking Maitimo in as deep as he could. It was not deep enough to take more than half in, but it was too deep for Finno to take. The head of Maitimo’s cock hit something at the back of his throat that made him splutter and gag. He tried to go through with it. He had drawn out a deliciously gratifying moan from Maitimo when he had started sucking. He had gotten him fully hard. But his lover’s hand was tugging gently but firmly on his braids, making him pull back. 

His lips reluctantly released his lover with a loud pop, and Finno frowned as he looked at Maitimo, who looked at him with a confusing mix of arousal and concern. 

“You do not have to take more than you can, especially not for your first time, Kánya,” Maitimo said, gently tugging at the gold-twined braid nearest to Finno’s face. The sound of that special endearment—my commander—that Maitimo only used when they lay together kept Finno’s own erection pulsing uncomfortably between his legs, in spite of his disappointment in himself. 

“But you took me all the way in!” he protested.

“As thick as you are, I am still longer, and I have done this before,” Maitimo said.

Finno glared before he could stop himself, and Maitimo sighed, sitting him to kiss him. As their lips met, Finno responded more aggressively than he meant to, bearing his lover back down to the bed and pinning him there. They both moaned loudly as their cocks pressed together incidentally, and Finno gasped into his lover’s mouth as he felt the other nér grip his hair tightly. 

He pulled back reluctantly, panting with renewed lust and no less determined to complete his task.

“I love your passion,” Maitimo murmured, staring up with green-brown eyes made dark as his pupils dilated. “You’re so eager. It makes me so heated. You could bring me off just with your tongue and just by sucking the head.” 

Finno opened his mouth to protest, but Maitimo spoke first adding, “I already know how good you are with your tongue. You learned to use it when we kissed so quickly. Remember what I did to you before you seized control and made me take you all the way to the root.”

Finno bit his lip, caught between shame and lust. He had been too consumed with excitement and frustration when Maitimo had been teasing him by licking and sucking his erection as though he were worshiping it to pay attention to what exactly he had done. 

“I can guide you with my fingers,” Maitimo added. Finno almost objected out of pride, but the words died in his throat at the sight of lover leaning back against the bed and taking himself lightly in hand while looking at Finno as though he truly were his most skilled bedmate. 

“Oh!” was all that he could manage as he watched Maitimo run his forefinger lightly over the gathering of skin between the head and shaft of his own erection. 

I should ask him to bring himself to release while I watch sometime, Finno thought, licking his lips. Now that he knew for sure that there would be future encounters and that he would not run away from them to save his pride, he could plan for the future. 

“There you go, Kánya. Let me feel your tongue here,” Maitimo murmured breathily as his own tongue flicked between slightly parted lips. 

Findekáno went readily, following Maitimo’s fingers with his tongue. His new lover rewarded him with low, whimpering moans as swiped his tongue over the cockhead. Then he sucked the tip roughly between his lips while his tongue swiped the other’s forefinger. 

“Horro! Finno!” Maitimo cried out, making the other nér hum with satisfaction. 

“You’re doing so well. I love how eager you look. Your lips look so pretty, so full wrapped around me like that.” Praise kept spilling out of Maitimo as he gently guided Findekáno with his hands and Findekáno added his own flourishes. 

At Maitimo’s direction, he swiped the flat of his tongue from the base to the tip and sucked again. He licked the slit before he moved back down, tasting his meldo’s nomílt for the first time. To his shock, he found that he liked the taste, which was ever so slightly salty and distinctly masculine, and he did not fight the urge to lap eagerly at the fluid. 

Maitimo grasped his braids more tightly. Findekáno’s cock twitched eagerly against his belly when all that the other could manage to get out was, “Ai, Kánya,” in a high, keening voice that heated his blood. 

He locked eyes with Maitimo as he sucked his cock in deeper, this time stopping before he hit that thing in his throat that made him gag. 

Maitimo shuddered, his thighs quivering against Findekáno’s shoulders, and he rasped out, “You can use your hand on the parts that you cannot reach…Ai! Like that! Just…Ai, Kánya, like that.”

Findekáno was not sure what else Maitimo had meant to tell him, but he had evidently done instinctively. As he moved his hand in times with his mouth, sucking hard with every pass, the only sounds that came out of Maitimo’s mouth were wordless, desperate moans and whines that shot straight to Finno’s loins. 

He found himself achingly hard as he watched Maitimo slowly fall apart under his lips and hand, but he resisted the urge to take himself in hand and spend with his new lover. Maitimo’s thighs were squeezing him as he writhed in nearing ecstasy, and Finno meant to use them next. 

“Kánya…Kánya…I’m so close.” Maitimo only just managed to grunt the words out. Finno felt a surge of triumph as he locked eyes with the other nér and grinned around his cock. 

Maitimo’s eyes widened, pupils completely obscuring his irises, and clasped a hand over his mouth as he howled. His hips jerked up, and Findekáno gripped them roughly, relishing the thought of leaving handprints on that creamy skin, as he swallowed the other nér’s mílt. It was saltier than the other fluid, but it was such a distinct mark of Maitimo’s unmitigated enjoyment of Finno’s newly acquired prowess that he drank it eagerly. 

“You finished quickly, Russo,” he observed with a teasing grin as he climbed over his lover, dragging his erection over the hardened muscles of the other’s abdomen. 

“I told you, Kánya, your eagerness and passion are unmatched. I nearly came undone just watching you,” he murmured after pressing a light kiss to Finno’s lips. 

Ai! I will make him forget the others easily! he thought, relishing the sense of triumph that that gave him.

Then he responded with a deeper kiss, slipping Maitimo a taste of his meldo’s tongue and his own release. Maitimo moaned and wrapped one arm around Finno’s neck, taking his cock in the other hand. 

Finno gasped into the kiss, thrusting instinctively into Maitimo’s fist, but he grabbed his meldo’s wrist before he could spend. 

“Turn over, Russo. I want to shove my prick in between your thighs,” he growled. His cheeks only heated slightly now at how commanding he could be. 

Maitimo released him with a gasp that was surprisingly lustful given how recently he had been satisfied. 

“Whatever you say, Kánya,” he breathed as he obeyed. 

Findekáno grinned but slapped his arse anyway, this time as a reward for good behavior. Maitimo’s desperate whine showed him that he had not misjudged the situation. 

Chapter 2: Sexual Instruction, Part 2: Anal Play

Summary:

Fingon learns how to find the prostate, and then some.

Notes:

This takes place sometime between the end of Chapter 6 (1365 Y.T.) and the beginning of chapter 7 (1375 Y.T.), where they have anal sex for the first time.

Chapter Text

Demonstration 

Findekáno was lying on his back with his legs spread wide open. He was in Maitimo’s bed, and he had Maitimo’s head between his thighs. His eyes, half-lidded and unfairly seductive, were fixed on Finno’s face as he lapped and sucked at the side of his lover’s cock. 

Finno’s entire frame was trembling with lust as he let his moans flow freely, grateful once again that the locks of his lover’s rooms were enspelled to keep sound in when they were sealed. Every lick and flick of the tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through his core, and every time those lips wrapped around him, he felt as though his fëa was slowly leaking out of his hröa, along with the nomilt leaking out of his tip. 

Maitimo continued to torment him, greedily sipping at the fluid gathering at the head of Finno’s cock and moaning lowly. Finno’s hands fisted in the sheets as he fought the urge to grab his lover’s hair and force him to suck him off. He hated being teased like this, but he loved it even more, and he wanted to enjoy it as long as he could endure it. 

He let out a futile, keening sound and thrust his hips up without meaning to when Maitimo finally wrapped his lips around his tip and sucked hard while lapping at the underside. 

“Finally!” he crowed. Then Maitimo released him with a loud, obscene pop, and he screamed in frustration. 

“Do you need me to make you do it?” he growled, sounding harsher than he meant to. That was a game that they both thoroughly enjoyed, but it was not what Finno wanted right now. 

“Actually, I wanted to try something new with you, and I thought that I should ask you first,” Maitimo said as he rested his cheek on Finno’s thigh and cruelly sucked one of his own long, slender fingers between his lips. The sight of his long tongue caressing the digit and coating it with spit made Finno want to weep. Maitimo’s mouth was visibly watering, the way that it usually did when he was preparing to let Finno fuck his throat. 

“What is it, Russo? I am sure that I will love whatever it is,” he asked. In truth, he would agree to anything if it meant getting sucked off. 

“Do you remember me telling you about the place inside you that makes your release more intense?” Maitimo asked, fluttering his eyelashes temptingly as he pressed his thumb against the spot beneath his lover’s sac. 

“Aye…” Finno said, letting out a long, surprised moan as he felt his cock hardening even more. Then Maitimo’s forefinger traced over the rim of his entrance, and Finno jumped. He was more sensitive there than he had expected, and the feeling startled him. 

“ I like being touched there, and I wanted to show you how to do it for me…”

“By demonstrating?” Finno squeaked. 

“You do not have to,” Maitimo added quickly, stilling his forefinger. 

“I know, but I…show me. I want to know how to please you.” 

And I want your mouth back on my cock. 

“Then try to relax,” Maitimo murmured, his eyes glinting with an odd sense of triumph as he pressed a gentle kiss against the tip of Finno’s cock. 

Finno gasped at the sudden contact. The sound turned into a long, slow moan as Maitimo’s thumb pressed against his perineum, and then back into a choked, anxious gasp as the spit slicked finger breached him.

“Ai, Russo…that…”

It felt strange, being explored and probed that way. He had to fight the urge to clench, fisting his hands into the sheets again as he focused on the tight seal of Maitimo’s lips around his cockhead and the thumb pressing against him, indirectly stimulating something deep inside him. 

Maitimo moved gradually, carefully, until his forefinger had to be more than halfway inside Finno. It was strange, stimulating but intrusive and then…

Horro!” he shouted, borrowing Maitimo’s favorite swear when that long finger curled inside him and rubbed against something.

That is what I want you to find in me,” Maitimo declared in between sucks. 

“Aye,” Finno rasped out uselessly. 

Maitimo released his cock long enough to give him a scorching stare as he said, “Time to fuck my mouth, Kánya.”

Finno released the sheets and grabbed the already loosened braids alongside Maitimo’s head as he forced that mouth back around his cock. 

Maitimo moaned lewdly, the sound vibrating around Finno’s arousal, and his eyes slid shut. 

This gets him almost as heated, Finno thought in amazement as he finally let go and began to thrust hips upward. He gripped soft, silky tresses roughly as he tugged downward. 

Maitimo let out more choked out moans and trembled as his throat clenched around every thrust, and he continued to stroke that spot that added some strange, wider, less focused sense of pleasure to the sharper and more direct stimulation to his achingly hard erection. 

The sights, sounds, and sensations were altogether too much. Finno felt his climax building deep in his core, and he thrust harder and more erratically into that sinful mouth. His eyes clenched shut, and he screamed as he clenched around Maitimo’s finger and spilled in long, lingering spasms down his throat. 

“Ai, that was…” Words failed him. He was uncertain if he had enjoyed it more or less than usual with a finger in his arse. The force of his release had shaken him. It had felt more spread out and lingered more, leaving him trembling for minutes after, even as Maitimo gathered him into his arms as he kissed his lips, cheeks, and ears tenderly. On the other hand, the initial invasion had shaken him and made him feel strange and nervous, completely uncertain if he should or should not enjoy it. 

“‘Tis no problem if you do not want to try again,” Maitimo murmured against his neck, his voice still quavering with need. “As I said, I just wanted to show you, and I want…” 

Spent as he was Finno felt a frisson of desire flicked up his spine as Maitimo’s erection rubbed against his thigh. Then Maitimo grasped his hand and pressed kisses along his knuckles before wrapping his lips around Finno’s forefinger and sucking it lewdly. 

Finno’s soft cock gave a slight twitch as he watched in fascination. 

“After that, you can have anything that you want.”

Execution 

Finno may have been uncertain about how he felt about having a finger in his arse, but Maitimo had no such reservations. He relaxed easily the moment that Finno’s first spit-slicked finger slid inside of him, and he did not need a hand or mouth on his cock to distract him. 

Maitimo’s long, pale legs were spread wide, and the defined muscles of his thighs tensed and flexed with arousal as Finno pushed deeper inside that unbearably tight heat. 

What I wouldn’t give to have my cock there next, he thought as he felt those muscles easing and then clenching drawing him in deeper. Finno felt his own arousal returning as his stones clenched and his blood flowed between his legs. 

Maitimo’s pupils were dilated, turning his eyes black instead of hazel, and he flushed from the roots of his hair to the tips of his delectably pink nipples as he hoarsely asked Finno to add another finger. 

Reluctantly, Finno withdrew his hand from that tempting hole and took the jar of oil that Maitimo pressed into his hand. He quickly dipped his fingers into the warm, viscous liquid, eagerly thinking of how good it would feel on his cock and how much it would enhance Maitimo’s pleasure. 

“Russo, you…” His words failed him as he watched his lover tilt his hips and spread his legs wider, revealing his slightly stretched, pink, and puckered entrance. Finno held his breath as he slipped his first two fingers inside and then curled them as Maitimo had as soon as he found a spot that felt different. 

Maitimo threw his head back, exposing his long, pale throat, and let out a high-pitched keen. 

“Aye, there, there!” he cried, pressing his heels into the bed as he clenched and then relaxed around Finno’s fingers. 

Finno moved quickly, thrusting and curling into his lover. He wrapped his free hand around the other nér’s cock, stroking it in time with his fingers’ thrusts. His own member hung hard, heavy, and needy again between his legs, but he ignored it in favor of watching and feeling Maitimo’s hröa seek release beneath his hand, around his fingers. 

His internal muscles clenched deliciously around Finno’s hand, making him ask impulsively, “Would you do that around my cock if I put it in you?” 

“I do not know, but I would try, if it pleases you,” Maitimo gasped out, clenching more tightly around him. “Horro, please keep doing that…everything. I am so close, Kánya. Please, I need it all.”

At the sound of that desperate plea, Finno thrust harder. 

“Ai, you have never had a cock in you,” he growled as his touches and presses turned rough, almost cruel.

“I only want yours,” Maitimo cried, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he began to shake and spill, staining Finno’s fist and squeezing his fingers so tightly that he almost released himself. He could almost feel it around his untouched cock. 

He pulled his fingers out, eliciting a whine from Maitimo. He took himself in hand and climbed over his lover, straddling his broad chest and stroking himself hard. 

He held out his seed-stained hand to his lover and ordered, “Lick yourself off of me, and say that again.”

Maitimo complied eagerly, licking and sucking frantically at Finno’s fingers, swallowing even more evidence of his lust as though it were ambrosia. 

“Only your cock, Kánya. Only yours. No one else’s is good enough or beautiful enough or thick enough for me, for my…for my hole.” 

“Russo!” Finno shouted as he felt his climax approaching rapidly. He stroked himself faster and then spilled, blinding lights flashing before his eyes as Maitimo said, “I only want your cock in my greedy hole.” 

“Your tongue utterly undoes me,” Findekáno grumbled into his lover’s side once they were both sated, scrubbed, and sprawled half on top of one another on the bed. 

“Hush, you love it,” Maitimo retorted, playfully tweaking the gold ring hanging from Finno’s nose. 

Chapter 3: Fun at Formenos

Summary:

After Melkor is unchained, the Fëanarions get huffy and fuck off to Formenos for ten Years of the Trees. Findekáno visits them because he misses his half-cousins, especially one in particular. There, they embark on some light exhibitionism, but not before they have to deal with some kids, who are not subjected to the exhibitionism.

Notes:

This takes place midway through chapter 8, after Laurëiel/Alimë, Makalaurë’s daughter with his wife Tindalaurëa/Ñandelien is born and before Maitimo encounters Melkor in a clearing. This takes place around 1401 Y.T., which in my timeline makes Amrod and Amras (the Ambarussar or Ambasrussa and Ambarto or Pityafinwë/Pityo and Telufinwë/Telvu) 2 Y.T. old and Alimë 1 Y.T. old. The years of the trees are equivalent to 9.582 solar years, but I speculate, based on other timeline info, that elf-children born during those years aged more slowly, with a child of 1 Y.T. being about the age of a child who was 2-3 solar years.
Also, in this canon, Maitimo is completely gay while Finno is bisexual, with Maitimo being the first and only elf-dude to whom he has acknowledged an attraction.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

I. The Children 

Findekáno thought that he had arrived at Fëanáro’s estate in Formenos early enough in the day to catch Maitimo and his brothers before they went out hunting–either for game or to discover Melkor’s whereabouts–and to his great disappointment, he was wrong. He stilled his mount–one of his father’s finest bay mares–in the wide yard in front of the fortress and watched as three children ran through the field. 

He immediately recognized the Ambarussar, although they had lost much of their baby-fat since he had last seen them and looked downright skinny as they raced after a fair-haired girlchild. With their bright copper hair, they could only be members of Mahtan’s line. He supposed that the blonde babe who toddled before them could only be Alimë, though she had been unable to walk, let alone run, when he saw her last. 

Then again, in his last, frustratingly restrained letter, Maitimo had informed Findekáno that Lauro’s daughter had begun to walk and that her youngest and rowdiest uncles had begun to play with her. Indeed, Maitimo reported that Ambarto had made the unfortunate mistake of knocking her down while he competed with his brother to catch her in a game of chase. 

Her mother put a halt to that with only a look, of course, and now my youngest brothers go in fear of my fair and gentle good-sister, though they now play very carefully with their niece. 

Having recalled that last detail, Finno found himself watching the scene unfold before him somewhat nervously. Alimë was nowhere near as swift or as sure on her feet as her uncles, and he caught a flash of silver-golden hair in the doorway of Fëanáro’s fortress. Lauro’s wife was watching.

A moment later, he saw that his concerns were unfounded. The moment that Ambarto looked ready to catch Alimë, he suddenly caught his foot on nothing and tumbled dramatically to the ground. The feint was so clear that Finno had to bite back a laugh. 

I will have to teach them how to do that properly some day, he thought to himself with a smile. His father and his half-uncle were almost getting along these days, for once united in their indignation over Melkor’s unchaining, so it seemed just possible that he might one day be allowed to instruct his youngest cousins.

Alongside Arakáno, if we are blessed, he thought.  

“Ambarussa!” the other twin, who was properly named Ambarussa, shouted out, the panic in his voice sounding thoroughly unconvincing.

(They both call one another Ambarussa, which I think pleases my mother, who wanted to give them the same amilessë, Maitimo had written.) 

Alimë, however, was too small and inexperienced with trickery to notice the clear feint, for she immediately burst into tears and ran to her youngest uncle. 

“Amba! Amba” she cried out, her voice filled with all the despair that one so young could muster. Finno belatedly sprang into action, sliding off of his mare, bidding her to stay put, and racing over to the three youngest members of Fëanáro’s house. 

“Ali, Ali, he’s fine!” Ambarussa kept insisting. 

“Aye, Ali, my ankle is not even sprained!” Ambarto declared as he pulled himself to his feet. 

“Bu…but…it was muh…my fault,” Alimë gurgled out. Finno found himself uncertain if he should speak or not. The Ambarussar both glanced in his direction with some signs of recognition, but he was quite certain that Alimë would not know him. Before he had to make a decision, however, Makalaurë’s wife swept into view, the long sleeves of her sapphire-blue house robes skimming the grass she stepped between Finno and the children. Up close, he saw that her silver-golden hair was bound in a pearl-studded net that made it shine even brighter under Laurelin’s earliest rays. 

“Nay, ‘twas just a game. None were at fault!” she decreed, employing one of her more soothing cadences. She knelt in the grass and grasped her daughter lightly by the shoulders as she added, “You must learn to accept that accidents are sometimes part of the games, sweet child.”

“And I am not even hurt!” Ambarto added in hurriedly, as he backed away from his good-sister. Finno had to bite back another laugh at the sight, for he did not want to undo Ñandellien’s attempts to comfort her daughter. 

“Aye, Alimë, they were merely playing gently with you,” Ñandellien added as she turned towards Findekáno and mouthed an apology at him. 

“Besides, we should greet your father’s cousin, Findekáno,” she added as she gently nudged Alimë to look at him. He remembered how he had dealt with Írissë when she was that age, although she had never been timid, and sank to his knees so that Maitimo’s niece did not have to crane her neck overmuch to look up at him. 

“Greetings, Alimë,” he said, giving the young child as friendly a smile as he could. “And well-met, Ambarussar and Ñandellien. It has been some time since I saw you last.”

“Indeed, it has. My husband and his eldest brother will be pleased to see you,” Ñandellien said, even as her daughter remained silent and wide-eyed. The Ambarussar visibly relaxed around their good-sister and muttered greetings to Finno as well. 

“Are they awake?” Finno asked, trying and failing to hide the eagerness in his voice. The fact that the children of the household were already awake was a sign that perhaps he had slept too long before completing his journey to Formenos, but he could hope. He noticed too that she had failed to mention Turko, Carno, or Curvo, so perhaps that was a sign that they were absent from Formenos, which he would prefer even more. 

“I know not. Makalaurë and Maitimo are the only two grown néri left here. Fëanáro took the rest with him several days ago, and Makalaurë and Maitimo were gone overnight exploring the caves,” she replied. Finno hoped that she did not notice how his face fell. He enjoyed caving with his kinsmen. 

Ñandellien’s face betrayed nothing, for she only smiled gently as she added, “I expect that they shall be back soon. Have you eaten yet today? You should come inside with us while I feed the children. The Ambarussar can tell you about all of their adventures, and perhaps you can convince Alimë to play you the song that she has been practicing.” 

That is, at least, a good way to pass the time, Finno thought to himself as he accepted the invitation from his kinswoman by marriage. 

***

By the time the sounds of horses returning filled the air, the twins had thoroughly regaled Findekáno with their tales of learning to ride their ponies; Findekáno promised to show them his father’s stables when they returned to Tirion and offered his assistance in something called a “chicken fight”; and Alimë had sung her song and then fallen asleep in her mother’s lap. Ambarussa was nearly falling out of his chair as he leaned against Finno’s arm, and Ambarto looked ready to drift off to sleep at the table. Then the sounds of the main doors being opened echoed through the dining room, and both twins sat bolt upright while Alimë let out a piercing cry of “Atya!” 

Ñandellien let her daughter scramble out of her lap and race out the door as fast her small legs could carry her. Evidently, the prospect of Makalaurë’s return invigorated her greatly, for she made it out of the dining room ahead of the twins and before Finno or her mother could stand. 

“It seems that Lauro and Maitimo have returned,” Ñandellien observed. Finno nodded and forced himself not to appear over hasty as he followed Lauro’s wife into the entrance hall. 

It had been far too long since he had seen Maitimo, and he had to fight to keep his emotions from showing too strongly on his face when he saw the taller nér crouching on the ground with his youngest brothers tugging at his long arms and demanding that he show them what he and Lauro had found in the caves and mines. 

He would be a good atar, Finno thought suddenly, even though he knew that Maitimo believed that, unlike Finno, his nature made incapable of partaking in the act that would bring forth children, at least with a nís. That unhelpful thought was followed by a wave of guilt that did not abate when he avoided Maitimo’s eyes, which had met his, and looked towards his other kin. Lauro held Alimë on one hip while he drew Ñandellien to him with his free. Their lips met in a kiss that was just chaste enough to be appropriate before their daughter. Finno bit back a frown, but he found himself unable to contain the envy simmering deep in his guts. 

‘Tis unfair, all of it, he said to himself, another useless thought. Blessedly, neither Lauro nor Ñandellien noticed his discomfort, but Maitimo seemed to. Finno’s eyes reluctantly met Maitimo’s again, and his friend-turned-lover immediately shook off his brothers in an easy yet gentle movement.

“Ambarussar! Let me greet our cousin Findekáno,” he said. Finno almost glared at him for the unwanted reference to their shared grandfather, but Maitimo caught him too quickly in a tight, almost bruising embrace and declared, “We have missed you here, Finno,” in a tone so warm that he might as well have said, “I have missed you.” 

Finno hugged him back just as tightly while warmth flooded through his veins. All feelings of guilt, shame, and envy fled from his mind. Instead, he felt grateful that his lover was tall enough that he could bury his face in his chest and breathe in his scent without having it look strange. 

“Anyway,” Maitimo began as he pulled out of their embrace, “I have heard that you promised to support Ambarussa in a chicken fight.”

“Aye, I did,” Finno said brightly as he glanced over Maitimo’s shoulder. “What is that exactly?” 

Maitimo’s eyes glinted mischievously as he looked over his shoulder at the twins. 

“I shall let them explain the rules.”

“Wait!” Lauro interjected. “Amba, why are you replacing me with Findekáno?” 

“Because you’re too skinny! Sitting on your shoulders hurts!” Ambarussa said, drawing laughter from both Ñandellien and Maitimo. 

Meanwhile, Finno wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into. 

“Fret not, Finno,” Maitimo said in response to his obvious dismay. “I found a gift for your father. You can follow me to the forge after our friendly competition is complete, and we can talk while I cut the gem.” 

At the sound of that, Finno’s mood lifted considerably. If all of the other smiths were gone, then that would mean that they would have the workspace to themselves. And he always loved watching Maitimo in the forge, especially when he could observe him without others around. 

II. The Star Sapphire and the Forge 

After the chicken-fight ended, with Maitimo and Ambarto winning a narrow victory of six out of ten matches, he took Findekáno down to the forge to show him what he had found.

While Maitimo worked on carefully cutting away the star sapphire that he had extracted the previous evening, he could feel Findekáno’s gaze running over his face, down his neck and shoulders, and across his hands. The feeling of being watched so closely, with such unguarded desire made him feel more acutely aware of everything around him and set his heart racing faster. He set his tools aside for a moment and reached for a clean rag to mop the sweat off of his brow and his neck. 

“Are you listening to my explanation of the process, Finno, or should I work in silence?” he asked when he caught the other nér licking his lips. 

“Nay, Maitinya, I am listening quite intently,” Finno replied. Infuriatingly, he licked his mouth again, his eyes locking with Maitimo’s as he let his tongue linger on his bottom lip. Maitimo swallowed audibly and quickly looked away, but not before he caught sight of Finno catching his full bottom lip between sharp white teeth.

“Then what are you looking at? I do not exactly look impressive. This requires no hammer swinging,” he said as he picked up his tools again and began to cut until he had properly revealed the star that clouded the deep blue gem. It was technically a flaw in the stone, an inclusion, but it was one that made it all the more beautiful. He found the concept rather poetical and meaningful, and he hoped that Finno had absorbed at least some of what he said. 

“How careful do you have to be?” Finno asked, his breath ghosting over the points of his ear. 

Maitimo let out a sharp breath. It took all of his self control to keep his hands steady as he continued this task. 

“Very, but I am almost done,” he said, suddenly very sure that Finno was close enough to hear how his fast heart was beating. He dared not look behind him, but he could feel the other nér’s presence keenly. The ends of two dark, gold-twined braids dangled in front of his eyes, but did not quite brush his face. Two big, strong-looking hands with fingers that looked nimble and dexterous were suddenly placed on the table, bracketing him in. Finno was not touching him, but he was close, so close. Maitimo could breathe him in, the smells of vanilla, lavender, and wilderness mingling with the other nér’s natural scent, and he could almost feel the other’s heart beating, his chest was so close to his back.

“This is meant to be a gift for your father, a sign of continuing friendship between our lines,” he chided gently. “And it will be beautiful if I get the right, which I almost have.” 

“I know, Maitinya,” Finno said, leaning down again to speak into his ear. A braid brushed against Maitimo’s bare shoulder, and he had to bite back a moan. It was nothing on its own, but it promised something much more intimate and pleasurable. Besides, the not-quite touches made him hyper-aware of his body, especially the desire that was pooling deep within his loins. He was not hard, not yet, but he could be very easily. 

“‘Tis unfair how adept you have become at teasing me,” he said lightly as he made the final cut and put his cutting tools aside. 

Finno’s lips suddenly covered his neck and sucked roughly at his pulse point. The touch was so sudden and heated that Maitimo cried out. His intense reaction to something so small left him feeling shame that he knew was unnecessary with Finno. 

“Ai, Maitinya, I love when I can make you this eager so easily, when you are usually one undoing me,” Finno purred into his neck. “I wonder if you are already erect for me. Put those clever fingers to work and unlace yourself for me.” 

“Kánya, we are in the forge. Anyone could walk in. I cannot…” Finno cut him off abruptly by biting harshly into his neck. As always, the use of that nickname was Maitimo’s signal to his lover that his protests were insincere and that Finno should respond harshly. 

“You can, and you will,” Findekáno retorted. Then he stood and gripped Maitimo’s braid, wrenching his head back with so much force that he yelped.

“But I still need to polish the stone,” he protested as Findekáno gripped his chin with bruising force. That protest earned him a slap across the face, followed by a soothing caress that left him undoubtedly, undeniably hard. 

“You will not need cutting tools for that,” Findekáno told him. “So, unlace yourself and let me see how aroused you are.”

“But…” Maitimo did not even know what he would have said had Findekáno not slapped him again, sending a shock of pleasure up his spine, and growled, “Do it.”

With shaking fingers, Maitimo undid the ties on his leggings and pushed them down far enough that he could free his cock. 

Finno let out a beautiful appreciative moan at the sight and murmured, “So long and well-shaped and leaking for me, after just a little rough handling.” 

The praise for his cock and his virility left him feeling light-headed and desirable, so he responded without hesitation to Finno’s command that he close his eyes and stroke himself. 

“Hm…so lovely…but you do need your hands free,” Finno mused, his voice growing huskier. “Keep doing that for a moment more, meldonya.

Maitimo’s heart began to race again in anticipation as he moaned lowly at the feel of his hands on his own cock and the knowledge that Finno was watching him lustfuly and planning something. 

He teased his frenulum with one hand, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger, and stroked his shaft with the other while he heard Finno moving. With a start, he realized that the other nér had settled beneath the workbench. 

“Kánya,” he breathed as he felt too strong hands on his knees, shoving his thighs wider apart and tugging his leggings down. He groaned as the bare skin of his arse and his sac was exposed to the cold metal of the chair. Then Finno pulled his hands away, leaving him whimpering in protest and the loss of contact, and—

Horro!” he cried out when the other nér’’s lips closed around the head of his cock while that long and clever tongue worked the underside of the head. 

“Can I…” he breathed, his hands settling tentatively on Finno’s braids, not tugging but caressing and toying. His thighs were already shaking, and he let out another moan when Finno’s hand, which felt so different from his own but touched him just as skillfully now, wrapped around the base of his erection and stroked him in perfect rhythm with that talented mouth. 

“Ai.” Finno mumbled as he took Maitimo in deeper. The sounds of that single word vibrated around his cock, making his pelvic muscles clench and twitch, and he gripped a braid more tightly in an effort to steady himself. 

“I…oh…I will not…Aiya…last long,” he protested. 

Finno pulled, making him cry out. 

“Hm…I did not intend for you to do so, for I mean to lay you on that table and use you harshly once you spill for me, but I do recall that you still have work to do. See if you can finish it before I finish you.” 

With trembling, reluctant movements, Maitimo released Finno’s braids and went back to the task of polishing the stone. It took all of his strength of will to do it properly while being sucked, and it took all of his concentration on his task to keep from spilling too soon into that hot, wet eager mouth. 

Yet somehow, he managed it, only coming in a burst of white hot satisfaction that left him shaking, trembling hands once again clutching at Finno’s braids as he felt the other nér lapping up his seed without any hint of reservation. 

“Kánya,” he breathed as he slumped in the chair and stared up at his meldo, who was standing again and wiping saliva off of his chin. 

“How can I best please you? Should I let you use my mouth instead? You love that, and it would be quicker than fucking me, less chance of getting caught…Horro!”

Findekáno caught him off guard by jerking him roughly out of the chair and shoving him face down onto the desk. 

“I will have you how I want, and if you want to avoid getting caught, you will please me well,” Finno growled. Before Maitimo could offer up a word of protest, he felt a sharp, rough slap on his right arse-cheek. 

He let out a wordless howl and felt his face flame as he pushed his hips back instinctively. 

I should not like this so much, he thought as he felt his arousal mounting again, even though his prick was still too freshly spent to harden. 

But then Finno started spanking him in earnest, alternating between hard slaps, caresses, and light pinches that made him howl as it inflamed his skin further. It hurt, actually hurt, but he did not stop pressing back, presenting himself for a further beating, for every slap made the rest of his body more sensitive to pleasure. His cries fell from his lips without reservation, and he heard Finno’s breathing hard and angrily behind him as he worked. Even the caresses, which were meant to sensitize his skin before each strike, were becoming rougher and more insistent. 

His nipples were hard through his sleeveless work shirt, and they dragged painfully against the table as he moved, and it only added to his enjoyment as pain mingled with pleasure. A decade ago, he still would have been too ashamed at how eagerly he responded to being struck during times of passion, but now, the shame coiling in his belly only added to his enjoyment, making his blood sign even more with every painfully, cruelly arousing hit. 

“So ungrateful,” Finno mused aloud as he roughly pressed two oil-slicked fingers into Maitimo’s entrance. 

Aiya! Maitimo thought as his prick painfully and reluctantly twitched back to life at the rude and overhasty intrusion. It was too much, and it stung, especially as those fingers scissored inside of him. Yet the pain was akin to pleasure for him now, especially when those fingers found and curled over his spot. 

“I get on my knees for you and drink your mílt like it’s miruvor, and you protest against me using your arse, even though we both know that all of those who might use the forge will be gone for days?”

“Ai, Kánya, you are right…Horro!” His apology died in his throat as he felt a third finger breach him, stretching him even wider. Then those fingers curled again, massing him roughly, and it made him shake and clench his eyes shut in arousal. 

“Keep going,” ‘Findekáno ordered as he slapped Maitimo’s arse so hard that it made him clench around the invading fingers. 

The words spilled out of Maitimo’s lips eagerly, filthily. “You are right. I should have never denied you. I deserve this cruel handling—oh, especially the spanking—and I will love being fucked here. I always spill for you when you put that cock in me, and oh!” Finno added more oil and shoved a fourth finger inside. The pain had given way purely to pleasure, and Maitimo could feel his own achingly hard cock twitching against his belly, even though he was dimly aware that this was faster than Finno usually went. 

And thank Ulmo for that, he thought. Then he let out an angry cry of protest when Finno withdrew his fingers.

“On your back, Maitnya,” Finno declared as pulled Maitimo up, turned him over, and shoved him onto the workbench again. “I want to see how prettily you flush when I take you.” 

Maitimo expected Finno to strip off his boots and his leggings, but the other nér merely took advantage of the stretch in the fabric, shoving them down around Maitimo’s ankles so that they twisted in the laces of his boots and shoving his knees roughly up to his chest.

“Hold yourself there,” Finno ordered. Maitimo complied eagerly, even as his hands trembled and his breathing quickened at the sound of Finno unlacing himself. Maitimo was suddenly, desperately, achingly aware of how vulnerable he was, on his back with his legs up while Finno stood on the floor, his hips at just the right height.

If anyone saw us now…he thought, hating how much the fear enhanced his arousal. Somehow, he suspected that Finno only felt excitement untempered by dread. 

The first thrust, when it came, was rough and hard but perfectly angled, making Maitimo’s head swim with pleasure. 

“Ai, there!“ he growled as his eyes met Finno’s.

“Not too rough for you, my pretty meldo?” Finno asked as he pushed back on Maitimo’s thighs, forcing his knees back further and letting his cock penetrate more deeply. 

“Never,” Maitimo quipped back. That reply earned him another, even rougher thrust, and he crowed in triumph, pushing his hips down so that his arse pressed against Finno’s hips. 

“So hungry yet so tight,” Finno added, his voice filled with breathless wonder even as he thrust back in, this time using his grip on Maitimo’s legs to force him to respond. 

“Yes, yes,” was all that Maitimo could manage as his head lolled back and he drank in the sounds Finno’s praise, which became increasingly frantic and sweet even as his fucking became rougher, crueler, and more precise as Maitimo spread around his cock, taking each brutal hit more easily. 

“Russanya, you look so beautiful, so red like this,” Finno kept saying. The new endearment warmed Maitimo down to his bones even as the ardent pounding into his body made them shake, and he murmured some inane words of thanks and reassurances that Finno looked even more beautiful when he was this strong, this cruel, and—perhaps—this loving. 

Maitimo was too far gone to scold himself for looking for signs of the romantic love that might have led them to wed if Manwë and Varda had allowed it. Instead, he felt his release growing nearer, so he began to offer pleads and praise with increasing passion.

Finno heard him and released his punishing grip on his legs, instead bending forward so that the thrusts were gentler but no less precise. Then he began to stroke Maitimo’s cock again while his other hand grabbed the glass eight-pointed star that Finno had made for him just after the twins were born and just before Melkor was unchained. 

Maitimo tipped over the edge before he was ready, screaming and shaking without a care if he was heard. He could only see lights of white and gold, only hear Finno’s voice, and only feel Finno’s body—his cock, and his hands, which milked and stroked Maitimo through his climax and seized the chain around his neck so roughly that it bit into his skin. 

He felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over him as he felt Finno spill wildly into his overstimulated hole, relishing the wet heat of being filled and claimed. He only had a moment to feel pathetic for spending at the reminder that Finno had wanted to mark Maitimo as his in some subtle way, for his meldo immediately began cleaning off his torso with a damp rag. 

“Not your hole though. I want you to feel me leaking out of you for the rest of the day, and I want to see it staining your thighs when I take you to the hot springs and have you ride me so that I can watch your gorgeous hröa moving over me,” Finno murmured, his voice filled with an affection that was strong and strange for such crude words.

Maitimo groaned as he let Finno bring him down to the floor, rearrange his small clothes, and pull his leggings back up. 

“After a fuck like that, you can play whatever mad games you want with me,” he said as he twirled one of those gold-banded braids around his finger.

“Well, we should take advantage of your father’s absence along with the absence of your least accommodating brothers,” Finno said as he wrapped his arms around Maitimo’s waist.

“Mm,” was all Maitimo said as he rested his chin against Finno’s head and pulled him close. 

I will let you do whatever you want when I know that you will be this kind after, he thought. He knew that he was not being entirely honest, for he knew that he drew great pleasure from the cruelty and loved Finno all the more for helping them both find a way to let Maitimo enjoy it without having to ask for it in the heat of the moment. 

Notes:

Happy pride month! Here’s a longer chapter with some more focus on relationships and fluff, as well as the dirtiest smut that I’ve put into an outtake so far. (I think that the main fic is still much filthier, but that may change as the outtakes catch up.) I’m on a break, so I expect to be back to a more regular update schedule.
Anyway, what would you guys like to see next:
1. Hotspring dick-riding
2. Melkor seeing Finno and Mae doing it in the woods and sticking around to observe for nefarious scheming purposes? (And also because he lusts for the elves)
3. Sex toys/mutual masturbation
4. More forge sex where they almost do get caught
We also have non-smutty options, like:
1. a conversation between Findis and Írimë/Lalwen about Melkor, the nature of his powers, and the reliability of prophecy in general
2. Finno and Mae teach Arakáno and the Ambarussar to hunt in the hopes of fostering good relationships between the Fëanorian and Fingolfinion lines (this can end in smut once the kids go home)
Lemme know in the comments. I’m open to suggestions for more smut chapters, and these do not have to occur in order.

Chapter 4: Fun at Formenos, Part 2

Summary:

This chapter has a non-dirty title because I don’t want my backup google docs folder filled with titles like “Hot Spring Dick-Riding.” Anyway, this chapter directly follows the last one, and it’s embarrassingly horny because, well, writing the sex is fun but writing the lust is even funner. (Plus, I just like writing about Fingon's unquenchable thirst for Maedhros because he’s much less analytical about it than Maedhros is about  his unquenchable thirst for Fingon.) 

Notes:

The character Valdawen is my O.C. version of Caranthir/Carnistir/Morifinwë’s wife–a semi-canon character who never got any backstory, let alone a name–but they’re not married yet by this point in the fic. Her father is basically a low-ranking Ñoldor who only got a job managing Fëanáro’s horses because he’s good at it. 

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Findekáno knew that the Eldar’s lusts were supposed to fade as they aged and if they had long been wed. While he was not wed to Maitimo, he had been bedding him in one capacity or another for over thirty-five years now, and his lusts showed no signs of fading. In fact, to his embarrassment, he spent most of the day with his prick at half-mast. He had meant to tease Maitimo and keep him wanting by making him walk around with his arse sore from being spanked and his hole still leaking Finno’s seed. 

Overall, Finno was uncertain if his plan had worked. Maitimo only shot glares at him throughout the day whenever he had to make an excuse to stay standing or to eat all of his meals outside in the grass. In contrast, each time Finno saw him shifting uncomfortably or tightening his jaw to stop from displaying any lingering pain that he felt, it made his trousers feel too tight and sent him tugging his tunic down further over his groin to hide how the sight affected him. 

Worst of all was when Makalaurë asked Maitimo, “Did we ride back too hard last night, Russandol? I know that you went without a saddle.” 

At the sound of that, Finno had tried to excuse himself, but Maitimo had caught him by the wrist under the lower table that they had set up outside and kept him there as though to say, “Do not dare leave me to face this alone.” 

His grip is so tight, was the only thought that Finno’s lust-addled brain could conjure. 

So, Finno was stuck there, more than half hard throughout the entire dinner, surrounded by his kinsmen and kinswomen. He wanted very badly to go relieve himself to the thoughts of one particular kinsman riding him without a saddle, but alas, he was stuck making pleasant conversation with his irate lover’s mother, brothers, good-sister, and niece. 

I may have misjudged this, he thought to himself when he was finally able to make his excuses and convince Makalaurë to convince Maitimo that they should go to the hot springs alone. 

“Aye, the warm waters should soothe any aches that you have, Russandol,” Makalaurë had said earnestly. The smoldering look that Maitimo gave Findekáno once his brother’s back was turned convinced him that he had misjudged things considerably. 

Confusingly, that realization only made his blood run hotter. 

***

When they finally made it to the hot springs, Findekáno’s torment began. As soon as he was sure that they were alone, he reached for his lover, only to have his hands smacked away and pinned to his sides. Maitimo kissed him roughly while keeping him held tight and nipped cruelly at his lower lip.

Finno gasped and keened at the feeling and opened his mouth. He suddenly felt a burning need to have Maitimo’s tongue—everywhere, actually, but especially against his own. 

But his lover pulled back and smirked. 

“Keep your hands to yourself,” he snapped as he released Finno’s wrists. 

Finno’s head spun with a heady mix of bewilderment and desire, so he did not have time to act as Maitimo pulled his tunic over his head and tore open his undershirt, exposing his chest to the cool autumn air. 

“Take off the rest of your garments and get in the water,” Maitimo continued, his tone no less harsh even as his eyes raked over Finno’s chest hungrily. 

The sight of naked lust reflected in Maitimo’s gaze held Finno captive and made him shiver, his nipples hardening too along with his cock, even as goosebumps crept over his arms. Hoping that he could soften Maitimo’s ire and harden the rest of him by baring more of his hröa, he quickly made work on his boots and his trousers. 

Maitimo’s eyes never left Finno’s form as he worked, but his lover began to strip too. The sight of flesh being slowly exposed, first the broad expanse of his lover’s chest and then his flat stomach and narrow waist made Finno’s mouth water. His fingers itched to grab him there, leaving new bruises, but Maitimo’s long reach stopped him. 

“I said get in the water, Kánya,” Maitimo growled, his voice low and dangerous. That endearment was mocking now, for Findekáno was hardly the one in command.

Finno’s exposed cock jumped in anticipation at the endless possibilities before him, and his blood pulsed wildly through his veins when he saw the hungry look that Maitimo gave his erection. 

“Still weak for my cock, Maitinya?” he asked as he took himself in his own hand and stroked slowly. He had to bite back a moan at the touch, for which he had been so eager earlier, and he thrust into his own fist before he could stop himself. 

Already acting like a green nér again, he thought, but how could he do otherwise when his beautiful lover’s eyes were widening and darkening with desire and his bedmate’s broad and talented mouth was hanging open as though he wanted Finno to fill it? 

(Maitimo definitely wanted Finno to fill it. Finno was sure of that. His lover seemed to have an insatiable need to be stuffed with cock whenever they coupled.) 

But then Maitimo’s hand closed over Finno’s wrist, forcing him to cease pleasuring himself. Finno would have protested, but his eyes were once again drawn to those long and slender fingers. 

“I said no hands for you. I am the only one who touches your cock tonight unless I tell you otherwise. Now, get in the water, meldonya. If you do, I shall strip and let you admire your handiwork from earlier.”

Finno knew that he should protest and try to seize back the control that he typically cherished so much, but the possibility of allowing Maitimo to display himself so wantonly for his pleasure, without being commanded to do so, was suddenly far more enticing. 

So, with his prick hard, heavy, and yearning between his thighs, he rushed into the water as quickly as he could. The heat swallowed him up and made him moan with pleasure, and he knelt on the ledge that the Fëanárion craftsmen had carved into the rock as he watched and waited. Whatever soreness lingered in his own hröa from his swift ride to Formenos or from the force that he had exerted that morning while fucking Maitimo in the forge dissipated in the sweet heat of the water. 

Yet his stones hurt worse as he longed for release into a tighter, more precise heat, and that ache only intensified as he watched Maitimo slowly unlace himself and lower his leggings down over his narrow hips. The sharpness of Maitimo’s hipbones, which made the perfect handles for Finno to grip when he fucked the copper-haired nér fro behind, made him gasp and curl his fingers into the grass on the bank, as did the purple and yellow bruises that the light of the Fëanárion lamp revealed. 

“See how hard you hold me, Kánya? Do you like knowing that you have marked me and left me feeling your touch on my hröa for days after? Do you know that when I pleasure myself afterwards while thinking of you, I press into the bruises and bites that you leave behind to make myself spend faster?”

Maitimo had not even revealed his cook or his arse yet, but Finno was already panting with lust as he drank in his lover’s words. 

“Show me, show me!” he begged. 

Maitimo smirked at him and shook his head. 

“Perhaps another time, but not now when I mean to take all of my pleasure from you.” 

“Ai…” was all that Finno could say in response to that. Drink me, was what he wanted to say, but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. 

Everything felt better and worse at once when Maitimo slipped his leggings lower, revealing his loincloth and the outline of his cock straining against it. From his spot in the spring, Finno could only watch, sweating from more than just the heat of the water, as Maitimo took off the rest of his clothes. 

Once again, Finno decided that his lover’s legs were far too long, lean, and toned for it to be entirely fair. In fact, Finno felt that it was entirely unjust that he could rarely contain his lust for the other nér’s finely sculpted buttocks long enough to enjoy every inch of those fine, endless limbs. 

Once Maitimo was bare, he knelt in the grass and crawled slowly and seductively towards the edge of the spring. His hips swayed with each movement, and his cock hung, long, hard, and leaking, between his legs while his hair tumbled over his form, obscuring it and highlighting it all at once. Finno, to his embarrassment, realized that he was actually drooling at the sight, but he could not stop. His fingers tightened in the grass as he felt the urge to either touch his poor, neglected erection or to reach out to Maitimo.

But I am not allowed to do either, he thought as a strange thrill sparked in his blood. He did not care a whit, for he was enjoying the show far too much. Finally, Maitimo came to a halt before him and slipped only his feet into the water before Finno, his thighs spread wide  and his cock jutting out proudly as he leaned back on his hands and stared languidly down at Finno. 

Finno was frozen only because he could decide which part he wanted to take in his mouth first. When he was this close, he could see that Maitimo’s legs were stained with Finno’s white mílt, which was just visible against the pale, freckled flesh.

“Do you want me to turn so that you can see the best part, or do you want to lick your seed off of my legs first?” Maitimo asked. The husky, needy tone in which he spoke was more arousing than it had any right to be. 

“Your legs first,” Finno rasped out as he vaguely wondered if he could faint from having too much of his blood flowing to his loins. 

Before Maitimo could give him permission, Finno’s lips were already wrapped around the inner bone of his right ankle, licking it and sucking it and making Maitimo gasp. 

Now I have some power back, Russanya, he thought giddily as he worked his way slowly upward. The dried seed did not exactly taste pleasant, but Finno hardly cared, not when he got to worship and mark one of his favorite parts of his lover’s hröa and especially not when Maitimo started grabbing his hair and letting out needy whimpers when Finno sucked a love bite into his right thigh. He eagerly moved over to the left leg, making Maitimo jolt and kick when he licked behind the knee and then making him howl when he nibbled at his hip. 

“Kánya!” Maitimo gasped as he lifted his head and let Finno see that he was flushed from the roots of his hair to the tips of his nipples. “Let me turn over.”

Finno grinned and pulled back just enough that Maitimo could shift onto his stomach and wiggle forward so that his legs were in the water and his arse was only inches from Finno’s face. 

If he had thought previous sights mouthwatering, nothing prepared Findekáno for the experience of seeing his lover’s backside still redenned and stained from their earlier tryst. Maitimo only made things worse—or better, if Finno was entirely honest—by reaching his hands behind him and spreading his cheeks, fingers digging into the flesh that Finno’s hand had beaten and bruised earlier. 

“I…” was all that Finno could manage to say as his hands hung uselessly at his side and the tightness in his loins and his belly became truly unbearable. He wanted to fuck, but he also wanted to look.

Maybe I could spend just by looking, he thought deliriously. 

“Do you like seeing what you have done?” Maitimo asked as he dipped his own finger into himself, drawing out even more seed. Finno’s eyes widened as he whimpered. Once again, he was caught between two thoughts. 

The first was that it was the greatest pleasure that he ever known to watch Maitimo open himself up and fuck Finno’s mílt back inside of himself. The second was that it was cruel of Maitimo to deny Finno the thrill of pushing his own fingers inside of him and that it was even more evil of his lover to continue to deny both of them the privilege of having Finno’s cock pierce him again.

“Do you like it?” Maitimo repeated, turning his head to catch Finno’s wide-eyed gaze with his own languid, heavily-lidded one. 

“Yes,” was all that he could say. His tongue was very heavy again. 

“Why?” Maitimo asked. His voice was so low and lustful that Finno’s tongue was suddenly free. 

“Because I like seeing you revel in being claimed. I like seeing you display yourself for me like you’re my slut”—Finno almost apologized for the demeaning term, but it only made Maitimo keen and slide a second finger into himself, so he continued— “I like when you do it because I handle you roughly first, and I like it when you do it to torment me. I like seeing how much you crave being slapped around and then fucked until it makes you scream and cry. I like how even after I have left you used and debased and sore, you still find new ways to best me. I like…”

Before he could continue, Maitimo was moving forward, away from him, and Finno was howling in frustration. But before he could turn his cries into words, Maitimo began to order him again, telling him to turn around so that he was looking out into the spring. Then, finally, Maitimo’s was in the water with him. Maitimo was climbing into his lap, his long and strong back turned to Finno. 

“How are we…” Finno’s words died in his throat when Maitimo, balancing on his heels and squatting over Finno’s cock, took him in hand and slowly, languorously, lowered himself down. 

Finno’s eyes slide shut and his breath left his lungs as he felt Maitimo’s tight heat slowly engulfing him, taking him in and consuming him inch by agonizing inch, until his arse was flush with Finno’s hips and their sacs brushed together.

“This is far too much,” he panted. 

Maitimo let out a raspy laugh and murmured, “Still, I would have you look.”

Finno was terribly afraid that he would spend just from the sight, even though he had already climaxed that day, but then Maitimo said that he could not move unless Finno opened his eyes, so he did. 

The sight before him was the most breathtaking one yet. Maitimo had turned to face him, his eyes and mouth wide open and his hröa flushed as crimson as his hair from heat and need. His back and thighs were flexed and strained with the effort of holding himself over Finno’s lap, and his red hair was tangled with leaves and flowing about him, making him seem redder and wilder. Most delightfully obscene, though, was the sight of his lover’s arse spread and stretched wide for cock while the remains of their previous couplings leaked out, staining them further, even in the warm water. 

Finno suddenly felt the urgent need to move or have Maitimo move, so he grabbed his lover’s narrow hips and thrust upward, relishing the needy protests that it brought from Maitimo along with much-needed stimulation to his cruelly neglected cock. 

“I told you no hands,” he whined, his voice no longer commanding. 

“I know, but I cannot hold back. Let me hold you and move with you while you guide us, sweetling,” he crooned as he bit into one of Maitimo’s shoulder blades and thrust up again. He bit down harder than he meant to, but Maitimo’s desperate cry of assent told him that he had done no wrong. 

Still, Finno was true to his word, and he let Maitimo lead, only his tight grip on his lover’s hips to offer support as Maitimo moved over him. The sights, sounds, and feelings of it were all too much, especially after being teased for so long. Yet Maitimo seemed as desperate as Finno was, for the red-haired Ñoldo clenched and grinded against him each time he slammed himself down on his cock. Needy moans flew from his lips as he rode Finno harder and faster, his thighs shaking and the muscles of his back quivering from effort. 

“Come with me,” Finno begged rather than commanded as he felt his own climax approaching. To help his lover grant his plea, he pulled him flush against his chest and jerked his cock roughly as he thrust up into his hole until it all became too much, until his stones were tightening and his cock was spasming and his eyes were clenched shut as he released into his lover again. 

***

The next morning, Finno awoke alone in his own bed, a necessary sacrifice with so many of Maitimo’s family present in Formenos. As he readied himself for breakfast, he thought longingly of the Fëanárions’ return to Tirion, where Maitimo had his own house and his own rooms and Finno could spend the night in his bed as long as they made the right excuses first.

When he reached the dining room, he found himself longing for that peace even more desperately, for he found that Turcafinwë and Curufinwë were sitting around the table with Makalaurë. Even worse, Nerdanel, Ñandellien, the Ambarussar, and Alimë were all absent. Maitimo was gone too, evidently still abed. In the light of the new day, Finno felt a prick of guilt.

I hope that I did not leave him too sore, not with them here. 

At least Fëanáro is not here, he thought as he slipped into the room as soundlessly as he could. The effort proved futile, for Turko’s hunting ears twitched and made him turn.

“Ho! Cos, how did you sleep? Not well, I’d wager,” he said, throwing a smirk at Makalaurë, who glowered at him darkly. 

“His rooms are on the other side of the house, Tyelko. I highly doubt that my wife and I disturbed him,” Lauro snapped.

“You might be surprised, Káno,” Curvo said, cutting in with an even wickeder smirk. “Your Ñandellien was singing quite loudly and sweetly last night. I believe that I even learned the words to that private song of yours.”

“If you dare sing it, I will throttle you,” Lauro spat back, his dark gray eyes full of a fighting fire that Finno rarely saw in them. 

“I heard nothing,” he said. “So, it seems that my rooms were far enough away indeed.” 

“Thank you, Finno!” Lauro exclaimed.

“He is only being diplomatic, I fear. How you made so much while your wife was singing to you to be slow and gentle, I shall never know,” Curvo retorted, his smirk growing wider as Lauro turned ruddy. 

“My apologies, good-brothers, for we did not expect you or anyone else to be occupying that wing of the house last night, and we do apologize for spoiling your innocence on matters between néri and níssi.“ At the sound of Ñandellien’s musical voice, all of the néri in the room turned to look. Makalaurë’s wife leaned languidly against the door frame, her silver-golden hair hanging free from its customary net in a single braid that fell past her hips. Her red and blue house robes hung loosely and almost seductively on her slender and graceful frame. For a moment, even Finno, who normally found Lauro’s wife’s beauty to be cold and austere, felt himself flushing. 

He scolded himself briefly for his disloyal and hypocritical thoughts, for he knew that his stomach still unfairly turned envy whenever he thought of Maitimo with another nér. That envy shamed him enough normally, and now it made  him want to skip breakfast altogether. To avoid any further awkwardness, he glanced down at his hands. 

“Apologies, good-sister. I meant no dishonor towards you. I was only teasing your husband because he riles up so nicely,” Turko replied smoothly. Ñandellien raised an eyebrow at him, and her ocean-blue eyes turned so icy that it froze Finno’s blood. Then her gaze fell on her other good-brother who was present. 

“Curvo, do you wish to make an apology?” she asked. 

Curvo’s smile did not waver, even as he bowed his head. 

“I do, but I must tell you that you did spoil any innocence,” he said, drawing groans from both Lauro and Finno.

“Do not tell that you despoiled one of Mother’s maidens!” Lauro shouted.

“Calm yourself, Lauro, I merely took him to Alqualondë to become better acquainted with níssi,” Turko said. 

“And how did you find Alqualondë?” Finno asked before he could stop himself. He knew from Findaráto, whose mother was a princess there, that the customs regarding marriage and bedding there were looser and freer than they were amongst the Ñoldor and the Vanyar. 

(And that was there Maitimo had learned most of the skills that he brought to bed with Findekáno, though he chose not to bring that up.) 

“Pleasurable and educational enough, although I could have foregone seeing two néri couple at a party, out in the open and without shame, as though there were nothing to being taken like a nís or a bitch in heat,” Finno’s face flamed and his blood boiled at those words, but he said nothing. He could say nothing. 

‘Tis not like that with us, he thought. Such words are only play, only to heat the blood. But he could not say that.

Then he heard Maitimo’s voice and he flinched, hoping that his lover had not heard Curvo’s words. 

Do they speak of others like him often? he wondered as his stomach twisted in sympathy. He wanted so badly to offer comfort to his lover now, but he could not. 

“Is that how you treat your níssi, Curvo?” Maitimo asked dryly. “I do pity your wife, if you ever find one. And you should apologize to Ñandellien and Lauro as well.” Finno’s mood lifted considerably as he felt himself brimming with pride in his lover’s ability to dismiss his brothers’ crude words with wit and dignity.

Of course he is too proud and self-assured to let such foolish notions affect him, Finno reasoned.

“So prim and proper today, Nelyo,” Curvo growled, but he offered his apologies anyway. 

“I accept it, Curvo. I apologize too for assuming you honorably inexperienced,” Ñandellien said, her tone still icy. “Anyway, I believe that Maitimo and Findekáno still need food.”

“I can help!” Finno said, getting to his feet and following Ñandellien. 

“Good little wife,” he heard Curvo mutter. Finno’s ears flushed with wounded pride, and he snarled when he heard Turko let out a bark-like laugh. 

I am not the one who plays that role! he almost wanted to say, though that thought made him feel sick with shame once again. He knew that he must not let Maitimo’s brothers impact how he conducted himself with his lover. He knew that he thought his lover no less masculine or strong for being taken. He knew that he should never bristle at the implication that it was the other way around, especially not in response to Turko’s oblique, meaningless jests. 

“Is this how we treat guests, brothers?” he heard Maitimo ask them. “Do I have to send you both outside with Huan until you relearn your manners?” 

Finno did not stay, for it seemed that Maitimo had handled it, as his brothers were now exchanging barbs with him instead of aiming them at Findekáno.

“I would apologize for their behavior, but I am afraid that I have no control over it,” Ñandellien told him with a sigh as they prepared the food. 

“I know, and I still enjoy the company of you and your husband,” he said mildly, trying to focus on the task at hand, the sweetness of her voice as she sang lightly, and the low ache that still lingered in his hips and back from taking Maitimo the day before. 

Remember the pleasures, not the pains, he told himself. 

“Where are our parents anyway?” Maitimo asked once Finno and Ñandellien had returned. 

“Out together!” he heard Carnistir shout from another room. 

“And where have you been?” Curvo asked when Carno strode into the dining room. Carno did not answer. Instead, he plucked a piece of honeyed bread from Curvo’s plate and flung himself down onto a chair, evidently not caring that his clothes were splattered with mud. 

“Out with me and seeing your parents off on their hunt,” another female voice replied. Finno glanced away from his cousins to see that Valdawen, the daughter of his half-uncle’s stablemaster was there as well, equally mud-stained. 

“You bring her to sit at the table?“ Curvo asked. 

“What if I do?“ Carno retorted as he grabbed more bread off of Curvo’s plate and offered it to Valdawen.

“You let Tyelkormo sit at this table, and he’s wilder than all of us. Besides,” Valdawen said as she let Carno guide her into his lap, “as you can see, I am not sitting at the table.”

Curvo raised an eyebrow at her, but before he could say anything, Turko laughed and said, “She has you there, little brother. You had best get them food before they eat all of yours.”

Curvo scowled, but, to Finno’s great surprise, he got up and left. 

“Well done taming the beast, Tyelko,” Maitimo said dryly as he grabbed a handful of dates and nuts. 

Turko shrugged and said, “Do not mind him. He is only sour because he went into the forge today to find that our disgustingly insatiable parents had been testing the structural integrity of one of the worktables. ‘Twas his favorite gem-cutting table too.”

Finno’s eyes widened as he fought back a blush. 

“Did it hold?” Maitimo asked, acting as though he did not already know the answer. 

“Apparently so, but he had to reposition it,” Turko said. 

Finno buried his face in hands as he tried to drown out the sounds. 

“Oy! Finno! Do not act so scandalized. Your youngest brother is how old? Surely even your parents still fuck occasionally,” Turko snapped. 

“They may be more discreet than ours are though,” Maitimo said with a masterfully acted sigh. “Speaking of that…I assume that he knows that it is best not to address that issue with Atar?” 

“Aye, I know,” Curvo grumbled as he sat back down at the table and shoved a plate full of food in Carno’s direction. “He would give me far more detail than I want.”

“Nerdanel too, I fear,” Ñandellien said with a deep sigh. 

Finno found that he did not quite know how to feel when everyone except him erupted into raucous laughter at the table. 

Notes:

I’ve been listening to too much ABBA lately, so Makalaurë and Ñandellien’s private song is based on “Andante, Andante.” (The new Quenya title would be Lencavë, Lencavë, I believe.) 

On a more serious note, I'm curious to know whose POV you prefer for the sex scenes.

Chapter 5: Boundaries and Negotiations

Summary:

Findekáno insists on a proper discussion of boundaries and kinks during sex, and Maitimo is unable to squirm out of it, no matter how much the conversation embarrasses him.

Notes:

So, these outtakes are officially no longer in chronological order. This takes place between chapter 2 and chapter 3 of this fic and sometime between chapters 6 and 7 in the main fic. So, this is still (relatively) early in their sexual relationship. If you’re reading the main fic, here’s a palate cleanser for you all. (And a reminder that they do love each other and will find a way back together, in spite of all the obstacles that are getting thrown in their way and the additional ones that Finno is unintentionally throwing in their way.)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Findekáno decided then and there that there was no sight quite as beautiful as the one of Maitimo kneeling between Finno’s legs and swallowing Finno’s seed. His mouth was stretched wide; his cheeks were hollowed out around the thick cock that was fucking into him, and his eyes slid shut as he sucked Finno through his orgasm and gulped down his mílt as though he could not bear to spill a drop. As for Finno, he kept his gaze on Maitimo until the force of his climax became too great and made his eyes clenched shut as he slumped back against the couch and howled, unable to keep his hips from thrusting his cock more deeply into Maitimo’s mouth as he spent. 

“You are so beautiful for me,” he murmured aloud once he had come back down from the clouds. His left hand, which had been tugging on Maitimo’s hair only a moment before, relaxed and began to caress the red locks instead while his right hand cradled his lover’s face gently. Maitimo stared up Finno, his eyes half-lidded, his pupils still dilated with lust, and his mouth wet with saliva as he leaned into the gentle touch and hummed contentedly. 

“I look like a mess,” he murmured. 

“A beautiful mess,” Finno retorted reverently. Maitimo snorted but leaned into his caresses nonetheless. 

“Come up into my lap,” Finno insisted. “You deserve to spend too, after a performance like that.” 

“Help me?” Maitimo asked as he held out his hand. Finno obliged him happily, taking his lover by the hand and around the waist to bring him to his feet after kneeling for so long. The feel of Maitimo’s thighs bracketing his hips as he slid into his lap warmed him and made him sigh happily.

Finno guided Maitimo’s face down to his for a gentle kiss, sliding his tongue over his lover’s lips and into his mouth so that he could taste the remnants of his own release. As his tongue caressed Maitimo’s, his hand wrapped around the other nér’s still hard cock and began to stroke him slowly but firmly, gripping him tightly around the base and running his thumb over the head. Maitimo moaned into the kiss and thrust into Finno’s fist. Spent as he was, the eager noises that fell from his lips were still gratifying to Finno, and he sighed into Maitimo’s mouth as his other hand slid down his lover’s spine. Maitimo moaned more deeply when Finno’s wandering hand found his arse and groped it, urging him to thrust faster. 

“Do you have any idea of how thoroughly I adore this part of you?” Finno asked as he broke the kiss and drank in the sight of Maitimo arching his back as his writhed in Finnos lap and fucked himself into Finno’s hand. 

“Mm, which one? You are currently…Ai…currently touching two different ones and…Horro!” Maitimo asked, his words failing him when Finno began to tease his hole, circling it and pressing against it with his forefinger. 

“Both,” Finno admitted, his own voice equally breathy as he watched Maitimo’s face grow increasingly flushed and slack with pleasure.. “But this part–” He squeezed Maitimo’s backside for emphasis– “is particularly well-shaped. Not that I enjoy your cock any less.” To emphasize his final point, he twisted his wrist slightly and caressed the slit with his thumb, a gesture that made Maitimo throw his head back and groan. “This part feels so hot and smooth in my hand. I love the way that it looks and how long and heavy it is and the way that I can feel your blood pounding here”--He caressed one of the veins– “and how being touched here makes you spend. Now…do you want a finger inside of you, caressing your favorite spot, or would you prefer…” He drew his hand back and slapped Maitimo’s buttucks lightly. The few times that he’d done that before, he had used a bit more force, but the touch still made Maitimo gasp and thrust so suddenly and urgently into Finno’s fist that it almost threw off his rhythm. 

“Both, either,” Maitimo said, seeming indecisive as he tried to regain control of himself. Finno considered his options for just a moment. In the end–which came quite soon–it only took a few more light slaps for Maitimo to spend, biting his lips to keep back his cries as he buried his face in Finno’s shoulder and shuddered through his orgasm. 

***

“So,” Finno began, unable to resist pausing dramatically once he had subtly maneuvered Maitimo so that the copper-haired nér was lying on his stomach, sprawled across Finno’s lap with his head pillowed on his arms. 

“So?” Maitimo asked as he turned his head to the side and glanced up at Finno through his eyelashes. 

“Stop trying to tantalize me,” Finno scolded him. “I want to talk to you about something?”

“When we are like this?” Maitimo asked, stretching his legs and rolling his hips teasingly. That was another unfairly beautiful sight, Finno decided, though it still did not quite rival the one that he already decided was most pleasing. 

“After we have already spent,” Finno retorted without a trace of anger in his voice. He gently raked his nails down Maitimo’s back, a gesture that made his lover shiver and still over him. 

“There,” he said with a soothing smile. “Now, I wanted to ask…hm…why you like being struck across the face or here–” He could not resist squeezing Maitimo’s arse again, appreciating the smoothness of the skin and the firmness of the muscles beneath. Besides, the way that the other nér arched up into his touch, his face filled with bliss as though nothing was more delightful to him than being groped by Finno, made it all the more worthwhile – “and how far you would want me to go with it.” 

Maitimo’s face flushed more deeply, more from embarrassment than arousal, and his eyes narrowed as he glared at Finno. 

“Must we discuss this any more than we already have?” he asked as he buried his face in his hands. 

“I think that we have to, if I am to avoid hurting you or doing something to you that you do not like. I would feel terrible if that happened,” Finno said, adopting the most soothing cadence that he could muster as he continued to stroke and scratch Maitimo’s back. 

Maitimo mumbled something into his arms, and the words were so muffled and garbled that not even Finno’s keen ears could make sense of them. 

“I’m sorry? You have to speak up,” he said as his hand moved lower and began to stroke Maitimo’s thighs. The feel of the lean, hard muscles beneath his hands pleased him, but the reluctant but contented sigh that Maitimo let out was even more gratifying. 

“Please, Russo?” he asked as he continued his campaign to relax his lover so much that he ceased to be able to remember what shame felt like. 

Maitimo let out another, louder, and more exasperated sigh. 

“I said that it is bad enough that I want you to handle me as though I am some naughty child! Must we make it more humiliating by discussing it?” he growled. Finno thought that the angry frustration in his voice was somewhat undermined by the redness that was spreading from his hair to his chest. 

“I do not think that it is that bad, Russo. It is not as though you have asked to be taken over my knee as though I am disciplining you or anything like that. You have just…” Finno’s words died in his throat when Maitimo grimaced and buried his face in his arms again. His embarrassment was still evident, however, from the crimson tips of his ears that poked out through his hair and the tension that had made his muscles tighten as he tried to curl up into himself over Finno’s lap. Unfortunately for Maitimo, however, that gesture brought his returning erection to his lover’s attention when it brushed against his thigh. 

“Oh! You would like that,” Finno asked, feeling his own cock twitch at the thought. Maitimo was already laid over his lap, his strong, freckled back; delectably rounded buttocks; and long, lean legs that hung off the arm of the couch all on display. If Maitimo shifted forward just a little, his hardness would be in between Finno’s thighs and his arse would be within perfect striking distance. The light strikes that Finno had laid upon it earlier had not even left the skin pinkened, but if Maitimo wanted it to feel like discipline…

He flushed a little himself when he realized that that idea had him licking his lips. 

“It feels as though you like the idea too,” Maitimo retorted as he reached underneath his stomach and grasped Finno’s hard cock. 

“Not yet!” Finno told him, taking on a more commanding tone. That made Maitimo pause, but it was the hard strike to his rear that made him release Finno’s prick.

“So, we both like it,” Maitimo mumbled. 

“We knew that we both liked it,” Finno shot back, dropping his commanding tone.  

“Not…like this,” Maitimo said, still not speaking particularly loudly or clearly.

“Oh, I think that you did, Russo,” Finno said lightly as he slapped him again, on the opposite buttock this time. Maitimo gasped and bucked his hips, his erection brushing against Finno’s thigh. 

Ai! That will not do,” Finno exclaimed as made Maitimo shift forward so that his hips lay over Finno’s legs and his cock was trapped between Finno’s thighs. He considered his words and his next move for a moment and then shifted them again so that he could place his right leg of Maitimo’s own thighs to keep him from squirming too much. 

“Does this sit well with you?” he asked, not wanting to begin giving Maitimo the spanking that he seemed to desire so much until he was sure that everything was right. 

‘Tis certainly well with me, he thought as his mouth watered at the sight and at the realization of how much control this position gave him. 

Maitimo did not say anything. He only nodded so slightly that it was imperceptible. 

Finno sighed and tried to master his arousal as he said, “Russo, I need your words.” 

Maitimo sighed again and turned to face him. “This suits me well, yes,” he said, lowering his eyes and pursing his lips. He looked so meek and so aroused at the same time that Finno was frozen momentarily, unable to do anything but stare at him. 

“You know that you do not have to be ashamed of wanting this as part of a game just between us, right?” Finno asked as he traced circles over the two handprints that he just left on Maitimo’s arse. 

“Would you say the same if our positions were reversed?” Maitimo retorted. 

Finno paused to think for a moment. 

“Well…” he began, trying to see if the answer would come to him if he talked long enough. “In truth, it does not seem that pain relates as closely to pleasure for me as it does for you. So, that is why I would not ask you to do this to me. I do like it, though, when you tease me and goad me or do things that tempt me and throw me off guard, so I suppose that is a different way of giving you some control. And I will admit that I am a little ashamed of how much the idea of doing this to you appeals to me, but I am trying not to be ashamed of anything that we do together. You were the one who helped convince me that I should not be, so…I suppose that I would be embarrassed if our positions were reversed, but I would try not to be so that we could enjoy this. Besides, no one else needs to know.” 

Maitimo blinked several times at him before speaking. Finno held his breath as he waited for a response. He hoped that his halting attempts at empathizing with Maitimo’s feelings and explaining his own had helped. 

“Well, then, let us begin,” Maitimo said with a shrug. “You already have me over your knee, so start spanking me, Kánya.” He was clearly trying to sound casual, even as he tossed his hair and rolled his hips again, demonstrating that he had very much hardened again, and the words and sensations were so tempting that Finno, whose own erection was being rubbed by Maitimo’s undulating belly, almost forgot to ask one more important question. Almost.

“How hard can I hit you?” he asked quickly. He hoped that he would get an answer just as quickly so that they could begin. 

“I do not know exactly. I suspect quite hard. Start where you were, and hit harder until I beg you to stop,” Maitimo replied. 

“Or until you spend,” Finno murmured, making Maitimo blush again and bury his face in his arms.

“Please do not make me beg,” Maitimo pleaded, his voice muffled but clear enough. 

Finno’s cock jumped in excitement at the idea, but fortunately for Maitimo, the prospect of beginning was far too tempting to resist. 

Still, Finno started slowly, more slowly than Maitimo had initially requested, hoping to tease his lover and warm his flesh up so that the strikes would hurt him more. He caressed the spots that he had already struck and tapped them lightly, making Maitimo buck and whine in protest. 

“Please, Kánya.” The needy sound went straight to Finno’s groin, but he ignored his own arousal as he used his right leg to push Maitimo down and delivered the first slap. Maitimo hissed in pain even as his cock began to leak against Finno’s left thigh, and Finno decided that he must be on the right track. He used his left hand to press down on Maitimo’s mid-back and make him shove his arse higher into the air. Even that seemed to excite Maitimo, making him whimper and gasp out, “Yes, Kánya, more…” 

So Finno continued, alternating between soft caresses and hard slaps, watching in adoration as Maitimo’s arse quickly turned pink and he writhed as much as he could with Finno’s right leg and left hand holding him in place. Finno drank in the sight, ignoring how his palm stung from the increased effort and his cock ached for release between his legs. 

Maitimo kept begging him to go harder and faster, and Finno kept obliging him, moaning loudly at the sight of how his lover’s arse turned red and his body shuddered with half-suppressed sobs of pain and ecstasy. 

“You look so beautiful like this,” he rasped as he stroked the abused flesh, making Maitimo flinch and whine in protest. 

Maitimo tried to shake his head and deny that he looked beautiful, so Finno slapped him with as much force as he could muster between the top of his thigh and the underside of his arse.

“Horro! Kánya! Like that,” Maitimo begged, his voice shaky as though he were biting back sobs. 

“Not unless you acknowledge that you are beautiful like this and I can enjoy the sight of you,” he retorted as he returned to caressing his lover. “I can wait too. Stroking you and groping you is just as pleasurable for me, but ‘tis not what you want.” 

“Kánya, please, I cannot…” Maitimo whimpered, turning his face to the side so that Finno could see that it was wet with tears. 

“Ai, you can,” Finno murmured as he dipped his fingers between his lover’s cheeks, caressing the cleft of his arse and teasing his entrance once again. He could feel the tempting puckering of the pink hole there, but his eyes were fixed on Maitimo’s face instead. 

“You are beautiful like this, when you come undone and give yourself over to me so completely. I have never seen anything or anyone as lovely as you are right now, looking so vulnerable and trusting and letting me give you what you need because you were brave enough to ask for it,” Finno continued. His voice was soft but firm, as were his caresses, and Maitimo continued to rut against his thigh. 

Yet his movements were less enthusiastic than before. It looked almost as though the action had turned involuntary. Finno paused, panic rising within him as he saw Maitimo’s face turn just as tense as the rest of his body. 

“I cannot, Finno, not yet,” he said softly. His voice was now sad rather than pleading. 

An anguished cry escaped from Finno’s throat, and he moved them quickly so that he had freed Maitimo’s legs and let him roll onto his side so that they could face each other more easily. 

Ai! Russo, I am so sorry. I should not have pushed,” he said as he cupped Maitimo’s right cheek in his hand. Some of his panic subsided as his lover leaned into the touch. He had gone soft, and Maitimo had too, so all of their focus was now on understanding what had gone wrong. 

“No, no, Finno, do not be sorry. Your intentions were good. You were right to try to make me feel less ashamed. I just…” Maitimo bit his lip and trembled, but he kept his hazel eyes locked with Finno’s silvery gray ones as he gathered himself and began to speak again.

“I do like it when you praise me. It helps, especially when we are doing that. But making me say it? I cannot, not yet at least. I still feel…Horro…I still feel weak and pathetic for wanting this. I still want it with you, but I cannot…I cannot praise myself while doing it.”

Finno nodded quickly, feeling very foolish and careless. 

“I am so sorry, Russo. I wanted to talk this through with you first so that I would not hurt you, and I botched it thoroughly,” he said, hanging his head in shame. 

Aiya, Finno, I am the one who rushed us and…” Maitimo‘s voice trailed off as he stared up at Finno. The tears in his eyes had dried, but Finno felt his own filling up. 

“I rushed with you!” he protested. 

Maitimo sighed and shook his head. Then he slid half off of the couch awkwardly and rearranged himself so that they were sitting side by side, with Maitimo rolled onto his hip to keep from putting too much pressure on his stricken flesh. Finno’s tears had just begun to fall when Maitimo gently tipped his chin up and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.

“Well, I said that I would stop you when I reached my limit, and when I found that limit, you stopped,” he said as he wiped a tear away with his thumb. The touch felt good, better than Finno deserved at that moment. 

“And now you are comforting me when I hurt you!” he exclaimed.

Maitimo silenced him with a featherlight kiss on his lips. The tenderness of it stole his breath away, and for a moment, he forgot to feel sad or disappointed in himself. 

“I like it when you hurt me, Finno. I thought that we established that,” Maitimo said, smirking. Finno groaned and tapped him lightly on the arm. 

“You know what I mean, Russo!” he protested.

“And I mean that my limits seem to relate to the fëa rather than the hröa,” Maitimo said with a shrug. His gaze turned mischievous as he bowed his head and looked up at Finno through his eyelashes and murmured with false meekness, “Perhaps you need to take me over your knee again, Kánya, and teach me how to be more serious.”

Finno cursed himself for how easily his arousal returned, but he shook his head. 

“I want to try it again, but not just yet, but I do want…” He paused and then asked, “Is there anything else that you want?”

“To please you,” Maitimo said as shifted onto his knees. The way that he winced as he moved even as his own cock stiffened slowly only heightened Finno’s arousal, but he held firm. 

“The first thing that I want is for you to give me a word that you can use when you have reached a limit so that I know that you really want me to stop or change what I am doing and that you are just begging or teasing me,” Finno insisted. 

“So practical,” Maitimo said with a smirk, but he conceded nonetheless, adding, “Námo, for I can never imagine accidentally calling on him in the midst of our passion.”

Finno smiled and reached out to take his lover’s cock in hand. Maitimo’s defiance slipped as he moaned into the touch, his back arching seductively as he thrust into Finno’s palm. 

“May I ask if you feel the bite of my hand when you flex like that?” he asked as he shifted position so that he could circle the cockhead with his tongue. 

Maitimo gasped and shuddered, clearly holding himself still so that he would not thrust into Finno’s mouth. 

“Yes,” he breathed.

“And may I ask if you like it?” he added just before he flicked his tongue over the slit, lapping at the nomílt gathering at the tip. 

“I do, but…Horro, Finno, your tongue is wasted on song. You are a skilled bard, but this is your true craft.”

Finno’s cheeks flamed at the unexpectedly filthy praise, but his cock hardened too. 

“Is this what would please you, meldonya?” he asked before he took the reddened, leaking tip between his lips and sucked, locking eyes with Maitimo and lowering his long lashes so that he felt them sweep the tips of his puffed cheeks. He knew that Maitimo was weak for his eyes and even more so for his eyelashes.

“It pleases me greatly, Kánya, but what I really want is for you…Stars, your lips! I mean…What I really want is for you to put your cock between my thighs and fuck them while you spank me until I turn purple and cannot sit for at least two weeks without thinking of your hand on me.”

Finno’s mouth fell open, releasing Maitimo’s cock, which brushed against his chin and stained it.

“Stars, Russo! You have to take care when you talk to me like that. I almost spilled!” he protested. 

“But you did not,”’Maitimo retorted, grinning wickedly as he knelt on the floor, spreading his legs and dropping down onto his elbows. Finno gulped and gripped his cock to regain control. Maitimo’s arse was already red, and he could see the beginnings of bruises already forming. His cock and stones hung down lewdly between his thighs, and his toes were already curling in anticipation of what Finno was going to do to him. 

“Get down here, Kánya,” Maitimo growled as he turned his head over his shoulder and snapped ferally at the air.

“Aye, Russo,” Finno breathed as he followed his lover to the floor and took his pleasure between those strong, seemingly endless limbs. 

After two weeks had passed, Maitimo assured Finno that he had thoroughly fulfilled every aspect of his fantasy. 

Notes:

Why did I write this out of chronological order? Well, I decided that we all needed to understand how Finno and Maitimo advanced to spanking as foreplay in Chapter 3, and I just wanted to.

As always, feedback, critiques, and requests are welcome.

Chapter 6: Showing off: Part 1

Summary:

We’re back in chronological order, folks. This time, we’ve got masturbation, fantasy, and rough sex in the bath, plus some references to a sex toy that will show up in the second part of this little episode.

Notes:

This takes place between chapter eight and nine of the main fic. Sorry that this is a little short compared to the previous few chapters. It’s super horny, and I wanted to get this out before I returned to the unbearable weight of massive angst, which is consuming my mind.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Maitimo was in his bath, which was more like a large pool sunken into the floor, and basking in the water, which ran out from an intricate piping system heated by coals. He had long since cleansed himself, but he had no desire to leave the soothing heat, not after he had spent the last twelve days riding back and forth between his father’s allies in Tirion and Formenos, doing all that he could to avoid Melkor’s unsettling gaze all the while. Besides, he was burning lavender oil that Findekáno had gifted him. It was the same substance that his lover used for his hair, so the scent comforted Maitimo, driving unpleasant thoughts from his mind and making him sink deeper into the water while his head rested back against the rim of the pool. He even let out a contented sigh as the familiar scent filled his nostrils and warmed him to his core. That scent did even more to relax him and ease his aches than the water did. 

He wore nothing but glass jewelry that Findekáno had gifted him. There was the ripping red-gold eight-pointed star pendant that hung from his neck on a delicate gold chain. There was a bracelet made of amber-golden and emerald-green beads on his right wrist and a solid red bangle on his left wrist while a golden teardrop hung from his left earlobe. 

He would love to see me like this, dressed only in his tokens. That thought made Maitimo shiver with desire, even as the hot water heated his skin, and he reached between his legs to take hold of his slowly hardening cock. He only ran his long fingers up the shaft, stroking it lightly, and circled the head with his forefinger before he reached down to gently cup and caress his own stones. 

He moaned softly as the featherlight touches sensitized the soft skin of his genitals further. His eyes slid shut as images of Findekáno walking in on him then and there filled his mind. It took a moment for him to decide how he wanted his lover to be dressed. 

He has been at court, charming Ingwë and Ingwion and Indis’ other kin. When he is done, he will be so eager for me that he will come here, and he will call me again, Maitimo thought as he finally allowed himself the pleasure of wrapping his right hand around his cock and stroking himself properly. The images in his mind—of Findekáno dressed in sapphire blue court robes that made his deliciously smooth, light brown skin shine along with golden trousers and high, buckled boots that clung to the muscles of his legs, toned and thickened by over a century of expert riding—and his self-teasing from earlier meant that even his loose grip had him hissing and dripping. His left hand dipped into water-proof oil that he kept alongside the tiled floor around the bath, and he moved his fingers down to tease his hole. 

He was still open from last night, when he had fucked himself with one of the toys that he had purchased anonymously for himself in Alqualondë before he even knew that he lusted after Findekáno. Still, his puckered entrance felt as sensitive as ever as he circled it with his finger. 

He slowed his hand on his cock, for he wanted to savor the images of his lover coming to him wearing the gold hair ribbons that Maitimo had made for him, the numerous golden rings that Maitimo had made for his nose, his ears, and his finger, and no other jewels.

I wish that we could get away only wearing the adornments that we have made for one another, so that they could all see what we are to each other, Finno had said to him more than once before. 

Maitimo, always the practical one, the older one, the one more accustomed to keeping his passions and his nature a secret, had told him gently but firmly that they could not. 

But I wish that we could too, he thought as he pressed two of his fingers inside of himself. He hissed again and gripped his erection tightly, not moving his right hand. He panted softly as he gave himself a moment to adjust and to recover from the pleasure. Then he scissored the fingers of his left hand and imagined Finno staring at him, panting through his open mouth while he watched Maitimo stretch himself. 

Do you see how well I open for you, Kánya? Do you see how beautiful I look when I stretch myself to take your thick cock? But not too wide—I want to be tight for you so that it feels like you’re splitting me open. 

(Years ago, he would have flushed and shied away with shame, but Finno had helped him overcome that insecurity. Now, he loved showing off and displaying himself for his meldo. He had seen how thoroughly it undid Finno, and now it made him feel so beautiful, so precious, and so wanted that it no longer humiliated him—at least not beyond what he enjoyed.) 

Maitimo let out a full-body shudder as his fingers curled against his singing spot. He released his cock and began to caress his stones again. Low, throaty moans escaped his throat as he massaged his sweet spot as he imagined Finno pushing open his robes, shoving down his trousers, and exposing that thick, reddened, and veiny cock. Maitimo’s mouth watered as he imagined Finno stroking himself, slowly but roughly as he watched Maitimo. He could imagine the words of praise that would fall from his lover’s lips as he watched Maitimo fall apart under his own fingers. Normally, he and Finno would have been too hasty to continue showing off for one another, but in his fantasy, it was different, it was better, it was…

Someone was opening the door to his chambers, which were locked, and that someone had to be Finno. Finno was the only one who still had a key. 

As soon as he heard the room lock again, setting in place the enchantments that would prevent eavesdroppers from hearing what they did, he began to touch himself again, playing with his cock and adding in a third finger. He moaned loudly, letting out wanton cries of, “Kánya!” and “Please!” and “I need your cock to spend!” 

“Oh stars, Maitinya!” His lover’s voice was even deeper and huskier than it was in his memory, and he shuddered at the sound. 

By the time Finno made it into the bathroom, his robe was already gone, and the side-tassels that held his golden undertunic were undone. His broad, sculpted chest was bare and glistening from steam coming off of the bath, and Maitimo’s jaw dropped open as he drank in the sight shamelessly. 

“Maitinya, have you been…” Finno asked, his cheeks darkening with lust. His voice trailed off as words failed him. Maitimo moaned and began to finger himself anew as he watched Finno nibble his lower lip, turning it red.

That’s mine to bite! he thought madly.

“Aye, and I am more than ready for you, Kánya! Come in here and fuck me as roughly as you can,” he rasped, hoping that his voice sounded properly commanding.

Finno shed the rest of his clothes more quickly than Maitimo had thought possible. He was sweating from the heat and his own lust. His eyes rover over his lover’s well-shaped calves, powerful thighs, and rounded buttocks. The sight was so delectable that he stopped touching himself all together and just stared. His cock felt heavy as his blood pulsed painfully through it, and his hole felt empty and open, but he knew that he could have stayed like that for an age, just taking in the sight of Finno stripping and oiling up his erection to take him. 

“How do you want me?” Finno asked as he climbed into the pool. He moved so fast that water splashed onto the floor, wetting the tunic that he had thrown carelessly near the edge.

He’s so eager that he forgot to care about his precious clothes!

“Come here, between my thighs,” Maitimo said, his voice high, needy, and pleading as he balanced his upper back against the edge of the pool and spread his arms to steady himself. Once Finno was close enough, Maitimo lifted his own legs and draped them over his lover’s broad, defined shoulders.

He panted shamelessly in anticipation as his eyes met Finno’s, which were smoldering with lust, and his thighs shook from eagerness as he felt the head of his lover’s oiled cock press against his hole. 

“I am ready, so ready, just do it,” he begged, knowing that he could not endure a slow and gradual penetration. 

“How could I wait?” Finno said, his voice full of desperation as he thrust into Maitimo roughly. The movement was so fast that it would have shoved his arse back against the wall of the pool, had Finno’s left hand not gripped his hip roughly and possessively. The touch and the force of the perfectly angled thrust ripped a lustful moan from Maitimo, and the sight of Finno’s eyes clenching almost shut as he felt Maitimo’s tight heat engulf his cock only heightened his need. 

“Take me as hard as you can. I will spend so fast like this,” he insisted as he brought his fingers clutched at the rim of the pool.

Finno obliged him with gusto. He pounded into Maitimo so roughly, with each thrust striking his sweet spot, that all that he could do was hold himself in place. His mouth hung open, and his head was flung back. It took effort for him to keep his eyes open, but he wanted to see–needed to see–the sight of Finno’s face reddening and sweating from passion and exertion as he satisfied Maitimo’s depserate need to be filled and claimed. 

“So good to me, Kánya, you’re so good at fucking your desperate slut,” he groaned. His cheeks flamed as he said the word, but the shame made him feel even better, as did the amazed, reverent look that Finno gave him. 

“I should bring that false cock that you had on your bed in here and shove it in your mouth,” Finno growled, and Maitimo felt himself tightening as his climax approached. 

“Why?” he rasped as his eyes slid and his legs quivered. He was so close.

“So that my precious slut can have all of his holes filled like he needs,” Finno crooned. Maitimo felt the back of his head smack against the rim of the bath as he fell over the edge. He could feel his hole clenching as the rest of him tightened, shook, and then released. It felt as though every part of him was climaxing, not just his cock, which Finno had not even touched. 

He felt lips pressing against his forehead and fingers stroking his cheek as he lay back against the bath and trembled. 

“Can you relax for me, Maitinya? I want to pull out and turn you over.” Finno’s voice was so soft and soothing that he managed it, only feeling a little spark of pain as his lover’s still-erect prick left him, the thick head catching slightly on his rim. Spent as he was, he wanted to make sure that Finno found his release inside of him. Even if he did not release for a second time, he wanted to feel those strong arms holding him up as his lover spilled inside of him.

Maitimo made himself pliable as Finno rotated him so that he was on his knees. His meldo gently placed his hands on the edge of the pool and asked him if he could hold himself. He was still trembling, but he nodded. His endurance was good, even when his body surrendered this easily. 

“You are so good at this,” Finno murmured as he gripped Maitimo’s hips. Blessedly, the touch was still rough and possessive, and Maitimo keened into it. 

“You do not need to go easy on me,” he swore. 

“Oh, I know,” Finno replied, his voice full of desire and mirth. Then he slammed back into Maitimo, robbing him of his breath and making him moan. His cock hung limply between his legs, floating uselessly in the hot water, but still, he rocked into each thrust, moaning in pained delight as Finno brushed against his spot. 

His eyes slid shut as he surrendered to the heady feeling of being used only for his meldo’s enjoyment. He had already had his, and now the need to give reared up inside him, making him whimper and keen as Finno grabbed him by the hair and snapped his head back up, using it as an anchor to make Maitimo push back against him.

Horro, Kánya, I love how you use me,” he rasped. Behind him, he could feel Finno’s thrusts becoming more erratic, so he continued, tightening and relaxing his hole in time with his lover’s movements. 

“I love being your slut. I love being the only one who gets to have you like this and feel you like this. You know that you’re the only one who gets to see me like–the only one who’s ever gotten to have me this way,” he purred as he continued to use every trick that he knew to make Finno’s release more intense.
“I love being your good one,” he breathed. 

“Maitinya…” Finno growled as he slammed into him one final time before his cock started to spasm. His fingers dug into Maitimo’s hips so hard that he winced in pain and tightened further, urging Finno to hold him in place as he spilled.

“Feels so good when you fill me,” he breathed as he felt the wet-hot stickiness of Finno’s mílt inside of him. Only then did he let himself slump forward, pressing his face into the heated tiles around the pool. 

A moment later, he felt warm, strong arms wrapping around his waist and soft braids tickling his upper back.
“There you are,” he murmured as Finno nuzzled his cheek against his back.

“Always,” Finno murmured as he pressed a kiss against one of his shoulder blades. “You always deserve to have me hold you close and cherish you after you give me that.” 

Maitimo felt an entirely different but equally wonderful heat pooling in his stomach as he sighed and let his eyes slide shut. There was no harm in surrendering to this care too, he decided. 

Notes:

Who's hornier: Kánya or Maitinya?

Chapter 7: Showing Off: Part 2

Summary:

Maitimo shows Findekáno how he gets ready. (There’s a surprising amount of fluff involved in the lead up and the aftermath.)

Notes:

This picks up right where chapter 6 left off. The incident where Finno walked in on Maitimo masturbating is described in the last scene of chapter 3 of the main fic.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Maitimo hummed happily as Findekáno scrubbed him down with gentle strokes from the various sponges that he kept by the bath. The sights and sounds that his lover made brought a smile to Finno’s face, and he could not resist peppering those broad, freckled shoulders with featherlight kisses. Maitimo rewarded him with happy sighs, and he stayed where Finno had left him, kneeling in the pool with his chest draped over the edge. 

Finno felt his heart swell with joy as he gazed at Maitimo, whose eyes had slid shut and whose lips were curled into a soft smile. Once again, he found that he liked the sight of his strong and handsome lover relaxing, pliable and content, after a rough, vigorous fuck, almost as much as he enjoyed seeing him desperate and aroused. 

Besides, he always lets me pamper him when he’s like this, Finno thought as he raked his nails gently down Maitimo’s spine. The other nér shuddered and sighed at the sensation, and Finno’s heart warmed all the more.

“You should let me get you out of here before the water goes cold. Besides, I brought you some fruits and drinks from the visiting Vanyar, and I wanted to talk to you about something,” Finno said.
Maitimo put up a token protest, but Finno persuaded him to leave the bath. Even better, his protests about leaving the heat of the water meant that he surrendered easily to Finno’s desires to towel him off and wrap him in one of his warmer and more revealing house robes. 

“You just like how this shows off my chest,” Maitimo said with a smirk even as he shrugged on the sable garment and tied the sash. It was far too big across the shoulders, which meant that it slipped down low and hid little of his upper torso. 

“Your nipples specifically,” Finno said, licking his lips and eyeing the pretty pink nubs as he dried himself. His soft prick twitched eagerly but otherwise stayed down as Maitimo’s eyes raked shamelessly over his hröa and the way that the water dripped off him. Finno indulged himself and his lover as long as he could, but at last, he had to surrender to the cold air. He grumpily pulled back on his trousers and his tunic. He felt rather overdressed, but he had seen how hungrily Maitimo had looked at him when he wore that outfit earlier. 

When I surprised him pleasuring himself with my name on his lips, Finno thought, feeling triumphant all over again. He loved it when Maitimo begged to be fucked, and he loved it when Maitimo touched himself in front of Finno, locking eyes with his lover as he stroked his cock or teased and opened his arse. 

And this time, I did not even have to touch him first or ask him for a show! 

Stil, Finno had meant to ask him to demonstrate how exactly he used that false cock on himself, but they had long since agreed that they would discuss new activities while calm and clothed before they brought them into their bedsport. Besides, the sight of Maitimo in his bath, wet, naked, and already open and pleading, all for Finno, had been far too much to resist. 

***

Once they were sprawled on the couches and drinking the mint-infused peach juice that the Vanyar had brought, along with a wide variety of fruits from their greenhouses, Finno broached the subject.

“So, do you use that false cock that I saw to pleasure yourself or…”

Maitimo’s snort interrupted him, and he frowned slightly. 

“No, ‘tis for decoration,” Maitimo quipped. 

Finno signed and shook his head. He knew that he had set himself for that joke.

“I am trying to be serious,” he said as he bumped Maitimo’s shoulder with his forehead. “What I meant to say was that I want to see how you use it on yourself.” 

To his surprise, he felt Maitimo relax and release a relieved sigh. 

“So, you are not jealous that I put something else cock-shaped up there?” he asked, turning his head to look down at Finno, who was still nestled against his shoulder. His fur robe was soft and smelled of him, so unsurprisingly, Finno found it comforting. 

“I have not been that bad, have I?” he asked nervously. He knew that his unjust feelings of envy flared up occasionally, but he had always let Maitimo rein him in, except when his lover wanted him to channel that energy into a possessive fuck

His anxiety mounted as Maitimo took almost a whole minute, by the reckoning of the Fëanárion water clock, to answer.

“No, you have not been bad. I know that we cannot always control our emotions and that feeling shame over them serves no purpose. Besides you have generally been honest with me and open to amending your behavior when it bothers me…” Maitimo’s voice trailed off, so Finno decided to ask another question.

“But you still worried that I would be envious if I knew that you used that on yourself when I was not around,” he said, nuzzling Maitimo’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist as an apology. “I am sorry for that.”

“I use it to get myself ready for you too when we have been apart for a long time, and I want you inside of me more quickly,” Maitimo said as he shifted closer and rested his chin atop Finno’s head. 

“Oh… that explains a great deal,” Finno said, noting how his voice turned husky and his hröa began to respond. 

“Did you just want to see me use it on myself today, or did you want to fuck me with it? You could also leave it inside of me while you use my mouth—then I could be filled in both holes at once, as you so temptingly suggested. I would like that at some point actually.”

Finno’s eyes widened, and his breathing quickened as his prick slowly jerked back to life. 

“I want all of those things too, and I am sure that we can think of many more uses for it, but today, I just want to see how you pleasure yourself so that I can learn how to please you best in the future.” 

Finno felt Maitimo’s lips curl into a smile before pressing a kiss onto the crown of Finno’s dark head. 

“Aye, on one condition…”

Finno waited with bated breath to hear it. 

“I want to see you naked and touching yourself however best pleases you now. I always picture you when I use my toys to fuck myself, and I shall enjoy it much more with you here in the flesh.”

Finno gulped and agreed instantly.

“Just tell me how you want to finish,” he commanded.

Maitimo paused to think and then said, “If all goes well, I would like to crawl to you and finish you with my mouth, with the toy still inside of me.”

At the sound of those words, Finno went fully hard.

“You have never crawled for me before,” he said, his mouth watering at the thought. “Are you sure…”

“I want to try it,” Maitimo said. Before Finno could express further doubts, his Russo had lifted his chin and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“What for?” Finno asked, still pressing him once the kiss had ceased. His lips tingled from the lingering warmth, but he kept his focus on his lover and his lover’s desires. “The better that I understand why you want what you want, the better this will go.”

He waited anxiously for his answer, ignoring his stubborn erection. Blessedly, Maitimo responded readily and with no trace of shame. 

“Because I think that you will enjoy the…er…shall we call it a display?” 

Finno nodded vigorously and grinned. 

He is becoming more and more comfortable letting me adore him, he thought.

“And I want to be able to submit to you without having to goad you into pushing me today,” Maitimo added. His voice became a little quieter, and his cheeks flushed deeply, but he kept his eyes locked with Finno’s and did not waver. 

A good sign—he feels just enough shame to heat his blood but not so much that it will spoil his enjoyment. 

“Can I still pull your hair and set the pace when you have me in your mouth?” he asked quickly. Perhaps he was being overly cautious, but the idea of Maitimo debasing himself by crawling to Finno was so thrilling that he wanted to make sure that it went perfectly the first time so that they could do it again. Furthermore, he hated distressing Maitimo even more than he loved debasing him, and he wanted to find the right balance of submission and honor for this particular escapade. 

“Please do,” Maitimo breathed so huskily that Finno hardened further just hearing it. He would need to get out of his trousers within the next minute, or he feared he would burst. 

“Tell me if it gets to be too much,” he insisted before he drew Maitimo down for another, deeper kiss. 

“Mm,” was Maitino’s breathy, choked off answer as Finno’s tongue explored his mouth.

***

Any concerns that Finno may have had about Maitimo feeling discomfort over what they were about to do evaporated as he watched his meldo settle into the silken sheets of his bed. Finno was completely naked in his armchair already–the shorter blue one that Maitimo had set aside for him–and he had already forgotten that he was supposed to be touching himself. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Maitimo as he opened up his robe. He had felt the other nér hardening against his thigh as they had kissed, but the sight of his lover’s erection, long, red-tipped, and already slick with nomílt still caught his eye and made his heart beat faster. 

“Normally, I would have to finger myself open more to take this,” Maitimo began as he coated the toy with oil. Finno had to force himself to concentrate on the words, for Maitimo had already begun showing off for him, stroking the false cock as though it were real. His hazel eyes held Finno’s light gray ones in an intense stare that made Finno shudder and scrape his nails lightly up his inner thighs. He kept his hand away from his cock but cradled his stones lightly between his hands. Maitimo’s lips parted slightly as he watched Finno caress the delicate skin there, and that sight was at least as arousing as the touches themselves were. 

“But you are open enough already from earlier?” Finno breathed. It was not really a question, but he desperately wanted Maitimo to keep talking. 

“Just so,” Maitimo replied, “which means that you get to enjoy seeing how this opens me up sooner than you might have.” 

Finno leaned forward and grasped his cock by the base as he watched Maitimo spread his legs so wide that his lower cheeks opened as well, revealing his entrance. 

I want to lick him everywhere, especially there, Finno thought, shuddering as he ran his fingers along his shaft and gently ran his tongue over his slit. He was not certain if Maitimo would like that or if he even would, but he made a note to himself to further investigate the possibility in the future. 

Finno’s train thought ended abruptly as Maitimo began to touch himself between his cheeks, coating the outside of his entrance with oil and then slipping two fingers inside of himself. 

“Oh!” Finno rasped as Maitimo let out a soft but lewd moan. 

“Oh!” he rasped again, his voice deepening as he watched his lover hold himself open and placed the tip of the toy at his entrance. It was neither as long nor as wide as Finno was, but the head curved downward slightly—probably to better stroke his spot–and the sight of it breaching the red-haired Ñoldo made Finno gape and groan. 

He rarely remembered to watch how his own cock looked going into Maitimo’s hröa, for he more often focused on his face to ensure that he was not being too hasty–or that he was being hasty enough. He still did not regret that oversight, for he loved seeing Maitimo’s face screw up in pained concentration, only to turn desperate and saturated with pleasure once Finno had buried himself to the hilt inside of his bedmate. 

But now he could only focus on the way that Maitimo’s arse spread to accommodate the toy and on the way that his breath hitched and quickly as he made his hröa relax to accommodate the stretch. Finno’s heart pounded loudly and roughly against his ribcage; his core muscles tightened; and his thighs spread wider as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and began to stroke himself. He kept his rhythm slow to prevent himself from experiencing too much pleasure too quickly. Yet Maitimo’s eyes were fixed on his cock, and that knowledge made Finno’s blood heat and pulse faster. 

“Maitinya, tell me…Are you imagining that this is inside of you instead?” he asked, bucking his hips forward for emphasis. Maitimo’s eyes widened, and he let out a soft moan. Finno bit his lip and shuddered as he realized once again how deeply Maitimo yearned for his hröa

“Always,” Maitimo replied. 

“How long?” Finno asked, needing him to be more specific. 

“Hm…” Maitimo murmured as he leaned back against the bed and thrust the toy into himself in slow, lazy motions that nonetheless made him pant and whine. 

Finno watched closely, noting how his lover angled the toy to make the most out of each thrust. Maitimo had not even touched his own cock yet, for his free hand was occupied with holding his lower cheeks open to maximize how much Finno could see. 

“Do you remember when you surprised me bringing myself to climax all those years ago?” Maitimo asked. 

Finno gulped and nodded quickly. Even now, that memory featured regularly in his private fantasies. He picked up the pace of his strokes ever so slightly, if only to give Maitimo a better show, and he cupped his stones again with his other hand, rolling them between his fingers. Between the touch and the show playing out before him, it was almost too much. Had he not already spent himself so thoroughly inside of his lover, he would have come undone. 

“I was using this one on myself when you opened the door. I hardly had time to cover myself so that you would not see my…how badly I craved being filled by cock. As soon as you left, I fucked myself to completition imagining you. I could see how hard you were, looking at me all flushed and needy in the bed, and when I closed my eyes, I pretended that you had been so overcome that you marched into the room, ripped the blanket off of me, pulled glass cock out without a care for how it would hurt me, and that you shoved your cock inside of me slicked only with your spit and fucked me until I screamed and spilled. After that, I could only spend while imagining that it was with you. Even before…before I knew what I wanted you, the nér that I pictured always ended up looking a bit like you, a tall and strong Ñoldo with dark hair and soft gray eyes and a mischievous smile and…” Maitimo’s words died in his throat as his eyes slid shut and he grasped his inner thigh tightly. His nails raked over his thigh, drawing out red marks that made Finno’s blood boil.

I am the only one who is supposed to mark his skin

Yet Finno said nothing at first. Maitimo’s words made him feel giddy and victorious. He had filled his meldo’s mind and monopolized his fantasies far earlier than he suspected, and he did not try to stop the possessive urges that welled up within him. 

Instead, he just watched and stroked himself. Every touch enhanced the fire coiling in his belly and made his stones tighten more. His mouth watered at the sight unfolding before his eyes, and he could feel his own climax drawing close. He pulled his hands away and rasped out, “Stop! Stop! I want you to do what you said.” He dug his nails into own thighs to resist the urge to continue touching himself. He ached to spend, but he burned to spill down Maitimo’s throat with his hands fisted in that long, silky, dark red hair. 

His thighs clenched, and a thrill shot through him when he saw how quickly Maitimo obeyed. 

“Thank you for reminding me, Kánya,” Maitimo purred, his eyes sliding down so that they were almost closed. He maneuvered himself off of the bed far too gracefully for one who was so hard that he was trembling and who was clenching his pelvic floor muscles so tightly. 

Ilvanya, Maitinya,” he breathed as he watched the other nér sink to his knees, his movements slow and controlled but also languid and seductive. 

Finno knew that had he not climaxed earlier, he would have come apart untouched at the sight of Maitimo crawling towards him, hips swaying and buttucks clenched tightly around the plug while the flared base rested against his taint. 

“How did you become so good at this? So talented at keeping yourself tight and delectable for me?” Finno knew that he was playing with fire by asking those questions, but he could not stop himself. After all, this thing between him and his Russo was fire, and he intended to burn himself to a crisp on it. 

“From years of being fucked by you and years more of preparing for it,” Maitimo purred as he settled himself between Finno’s thighs. 

“Where should I put my hands, Kánya?” he asked, drawing out the last word and making it sound like some obscene prayer. 

Am I your god, Maitinya? He wondered, too far gone with lust to scold himself for such blasphemy. 

Instead, he said, “Put them on your thighs until I am ready for you to suck me. Once I start doing that, put one hand on your cock, and use the other to fuck yourself with the other cock. I want you to spill with me.” 

He placed one hand around the base of his erection and the other on the back of Maitimo’s neck. He knew that he was drawing this out longer than Maitimo might have wished to, but if he did allow himself a moment to catch his breath and cool his lust just a little, he knew that he would finish the moment that Maitimo’s lips closed around him. 

And that will not do! He wants more from me than that.

“Come and swallow me so that I can fill both of your greedy holes now, Russanya,” he crooned. As he spoke, he roughly grasped the hair at the base of Maitimo’s skull and tugged. His lover’s eyes slid shut as he groaned with pleasure, so Finno tugged harder and pulled him forward. He let out a soft gasp as his Russo’s long, thin nose brushed against the tip of his erection. Maitimo inhaled then and sighed at the smell of his lover’s musk, and Finno shuddered again. 

“Chin up, mouth open, and tongue out,” he commanded roughly as he jerked Maitimo’s head back. His lover moaned and moved with him. Finno bit back a helpless-sounding whimper as he watched the other nér’s mouth open and noted once against just how long that skilled tongue was. Best and worst of all, Maitimo’s eyes met his with a look that was teasing rather than submissive. 

“You know exactly what you are doing to me, kneeling before me and acting like my personal toy, do you not?” he asked as he ran a thumb over Maitimo’s cheekbone.
Maitimo merely nodded, for he kept his mouth open. Only his eyes signaled that he was impatient to be filled. 

“Oh, you do, but you are being so good too, so I will only reward you for being such an eager meldo,” he added as he released Maitimo’s hair and dragged his thumb over his cheek, pressing against the top of his jaw to force him to open his mouth wider. “You have a lot of cock to take.” 

Maitimo was visibly panting and drooling, and Finno simply could not wait any longer. He grasped his lover’s head and tangled his fingers in his hair. Then he thrust into that eager mouth. His eyes slid shut, and he moaned the other nér’s name as his cock slammed against the back of his throat. His eyes opened just a little, and he saw Maitimo’s nostrils flare as he struggled for air, and Finno let him pull back so that he could use those full lips to suck him and that long tongue to lick him. 

Then he began again, tugging Maitimo’s hair so roughly that he saw tears wetting the edges of his hazel eyes. He did not stop thrusting into that tight, wet heat though, for he could feel the vibrations of Maitimo’s moans against his cock, and he could see how urgently his lover was pleasuring himself. 

Finno bent forward a little so that he could better see the toy thrusting in and out of Maitimo, keeping his arse fucked and filled while Finno used his mouth. 

“I am going to…Ai! You can…Ai! Russo!” 

He kept watching as long as he could, even as he felt his orgasm building in his loins, but once his cock began to spasm and his stones drew up tight against his hröa, his eyes slid shut as he spilled down Maitimo’s throat. The other nér gasped, choked, and then let out a massive, full-hröa shudder. Finno’s eyes opened slowly, and even through the bright lights dancing before him, he could see Maitimo shaking and crying as his own climax finally overtook him. 

Soft shushing sounds dropped from Finno’s lips as he urged Maitimo to rest his head against his inner thigh and slide the toy out of his arse. He still held his lover’s hair, but his touch, while still possessive, was gentle now. 

“So good for me, meldonya, so much better than I deserve,” he murmured as he stroked the side of Maitimo’s face, gently wiping away his tears. 

Ai! Finno, no, you deserve it all,” Maitimo breathed. He looked so peaceful as he said those words that Finno felt tears pricking at the corners of his own eyes. He swallowed heavily and bent forward at the waist so that he was folded over Maitimo. His heart felt tight, heavy, and warm all at once. He felt so much as he took his lover in his arms and pulled him into his lap, not caring that the chair was too small to fit them both. 

A bewildering mix of fear and contentment swept over him as he held Maitimo against his chest. 

“Thank you for letting me know what you wanted,” Maitimo whispered into his shoulder. 

Finno bit back a sob and nodded mutely. As he stroked Maitimo’s back, his fears faded, and he let himself focus on nothing but the warm and solid hröa wrapped up in his and the smooth, creamy, freckled skin beneath his hand. 

When he finally had the energy to stand and drag them both to Maitimo’s bed, he relaxed immediately with his lover’s long frame wrapped protectively around his. Maitimo’s strong chest was pressed against his back, and he could feel his lover’s heart beating slowly and steadily. Long arms wound around his waist and drew him closer, and an even longer leg draped itself over his hips, holding him in place. 

“Sleep now,” Maitimo murmured soothingly into his ear. 

“Aye,” he whispered. It was, after all, his turn to obey orders. 

Notes:

Is it weird to follow up rough blowjobs with cuddling and fluff? No, not at all. In fact, it's a great idea!

Chapter 8: The Rules of Engagement

Summary:

In which Carnistir tries to get engaged and eventually succeeds. First, though he’s gotta ask everyone he and Valdawen know how to propose.

Alternatively, if you’ve been enjoying the disaster gays, have some fun with the disaster straights. (But also, don’t worry. There are still references to the disaster gays being extremely disastrous.)

Notes:

This is exactly what it says on the tin. It’s the story of how Carnistir finally got engaged to Valdawen after running around with her in the woods for years, even though Fëanáro didn’t approve. This takes place sometime in 1419 Y.T., which means that it occurs midway through chapter 9 of the main fic, between scenes one (Írissë officially gets accepted as a member of Tyelko and Curvo’s hunting party) and two (Maitimo plays cards with Melkor).

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The Dilemma 

It was not as though Carnistir had never considered getting married. He certainly had. His father suggested it often enough, after all. The only problem with his father’s suggestions was that Fëanáro wanted all of his sons to marry the daughters of highborn Ñoldor loyal to their house. Specifically, his father wanted him to marry one of Tincon’s younger daughters–either Tanwetamë or Leptafinyë, but not the eldest, because Angainiel was for Curvo–and Carno did not want to marry either of them. If he wanted to marry anyone, he supposed that it would have to be Valdawen. It could not be anyone else, even though his father thought her too wild and too lowborn for a son of Fëanáro. 

He was, after all, in love with Valdawen. He was fucking Valdawen regularly. She was fucking him regularly. They had been for quite some time. It would be unfair of him to ask anyone else to marry him. Besides, he should do the honorable thing and ask Valdawen to marry him.

Or at least, that was what all of the Ñoldorin traditionalists would have told Carno. The problem was that Valdawen was not a Ñoldorin traditionalist. Carno had no idea if she even wanted to marry. He supposed that he could have asked her, but that would have taken more courage than he currently possessed. 

After all, what was he supposed to say?

Ai! Valda, would you like to bind yourself to me for all eternity and be stuck caring about what Atarinya thinks until he inevitably decides that I am not a worthy yondo and disinherits me?

Even Carno knew that that was a terrible proposal. He could not insult Valda by making it, even though he suddenly realized that he did want to bind himself to her for all eternity. 

Nelyafinwë

“You know, Carno, if you and Valdawen did want to get married, I would support you in that,” Nelyo said to him as they worked on their crafts. Carno was weaving their father a new court robe of black, gold, and ruby red satin, and Nelyo was writing out some elegant Tengwar manuscript for the smith’s guild. The words were Fëanáro’s, not his eldest brother’s, but he was sure that Nelyo would at least make them sound nicer and less haughty. 

As it was, though, Carno bristled with irritation at his brother’s words. It was just like Nelyo to remind him of all of the things that made him anxious. Indeed, he had just returned from a very long and very pleasurable hunt with Valdawen, and he had managed to entirely forget about the question of marriage until his brother spoke.

Curse you for bringing it up again, Hánya, Carno thought as he glared at his eldest brother. 

“You do not need to look at me like that,” Nelyo said as he glanced back down at his work. “I did not say that you had to marry, just that I would defend you if you wished to. Besides, Atar would probably be so relieved to have one more yondo married—and to a Ñoldë now too—that he would forget to object.”

“You just want me to ask her so that he will stop pestering the rest of you!” Carno snapped meanly. He knew that he was being unfair to Nelyo, but his temper often caught him unawares and made him speak too hastily. 

Carno’s innards were already curdling guiltily before he had even finished speaking, and Nelyo’s resigned sigh made it worse. He knew that his brother had a temper—they all did—but unlike Carno, Nelyo only unleashed it, rarely, upon Tyelko, who was the only one among them more than capable of holding his own against their massive eldest sibling. 

“No, I am trying to help you, Carno. I can see that this has been weighing heavily upon your mind,” Nelyo continued in an infuriatingly gentle tone. 

“You do not have to act like a mother-hen with me, Nelyo. I am no Pityo or Telvu.”

“No, I know. They are both far too young for marriage or for serious discussions.” 

The accompanying chuckle made Carno feel even more inadequate, and that feeling made him bare more of his fëa than was strictly wise. 

“Well, I do wish to wed her, but I have no idea how to proceed. We have never even discussed the possibility. I do not even know if she wants to wed anyone!” He tore anxiously at his hair and picked at his cuticles as he waited for a response. 

“You should just talk to her honestly about it then. She is the type of nís who would appreciate that,” Nelyo said. To Carno’s chagrin, his brother insisted on getting to his feet and passing Carno a wooden puzzle cube that he could handle and pick at instead of his own hröa. It was a child’s toy meant to stop fidgeting, and he hated that Nelyo still knew that he occasionally needed one of those toys as a grown nér

“I will attempt it,” Carno said, “although I should be asking you for advice. You are actually handsome. The níssi actually stare at you and swoon over you.”

Carno did not envy his brother there, not really. At least Valdawen never looked at Nelyo, Tyelko, or even Curvo longer than she needed to. 

“Well, I have never proposed to one. Perhaps you should ask Lauro. He actually is married, and quite happy too. Besides, Atar will accept Valda far more readily than he accepted Ñandellien. You will not even have to ask Haru for aid.”

Haru would not aid us in this, but you are right,” Carno said. “Is Káno out of bed now?”

“He should be. Ñandellien and Alimë already left for Amillë’s studio.”

Carno thanked his brother, and then got up to find Kanafinwë. At least Káno understood romance, even if none of his other brothers did. 

Kanafinwë

Carnistir opened his interrogation of his second eldest brother without a preamble. 

“Káno, how did you propose marriage to Ñandellien?” he asked. He always felt vaguely foolish using his good-sister’s epessë, which essentially meant little harp nís, but it was her chosen name, and he supposed that he should respect that. 

To his horror, Káno turned very red and sputtered. That was not a good sign. Typically, only Nelyo and Carno turned ruddy at the slightest hint of embarrassment or anger. He supposed that the twins would start experiencing the same difficulties some day, but they were still too young for shame. Carno envied them for that. 

“Well…I did not actually ask her to marry me. You see…well, you probably do not remember it…but we fell in love over song, you see, and we found that we could communicate through music, but for years, I was too nervous to actually speak to her, unless I was singing. And then Russandol turned…I want to say that it was his ninetieth begetting day celebration…and she told me that we had to formally declare our feelings for one another. And then Írimë found out that we had kissed and, well, we declared our feelings for one another openly, and after that, we both just acknowledged openly that we wished to wed.” 

Carnistir had never heard his second brother, whom their father had named “Strong-voiced Finwë” and whom their mother called “Gold-Cleaver,” stutter so much. He had also never heard anything so sickening in all of the years that he had lived. 

“Anyway, Carnistir, why do you ask? Aiya! Were you considering finally asking Valdawen to marry you? Oh, I do hope so, Carno. You should have declared yourself long ago. I know that you are not skilled in the arts of romance, but I can help you craft your proposal.” Káno’s voice was strong again, and his words flowed freely and elegantly. 

Carnistir, on the other hand, was suddenly terrified. He was no closer to determining what, if anything, he should say to Valdawen on the matter, but he was quite certain that she would know right away if he borrowed Káno’s words and that she would not appreciate it.

He waved his second brother off as quickly as he could and with as little awkwardness as he could muster, and then he went back to his father’s house to balance the accounts and pretend that he was not in the midst of deep and profound turmoil.

Findekáno

The next morning, Carnistir awoke almost an hour later than he had intended to. Last night, it had occurred to him that he had run out of brothers to ask for advice about his dilemma. Tyelko’s advice was sure to be bad, and Curvo was sure to ask him why he felt the need to marry Valdawen when he was already bedding her, a remark that would only make Carno punch him and unleash chaos within the household. As for Minyarussa and Atyarussa, they were still too young to have anything meaningful to say on the subjects of love, romance, and marriage. 

Consequently, Carno had tried to ask Nartamo and Vórimo about marrying their daughter and sister, but instead, he had let his prospective good-brother convince him that they should drink and gamble again. Naturally, Carnistir won–he counted cards even more ably than Nelyo did–but he had turned coward. And now he was late to his tasks. Even worse, he had a pounding headache. 

And I left Atar’s robes at Nelyo and Káno’s house, he thought, groaning loudly and smacking himself on the forehead. That only made his headache worse, and he growled as he got up and threw together an outfit. He would have to go over there, retrieve the robe, and finish it, all while drinking far more of Lalwen’s hangover cure than was reasonable. He would burn through their rations, and Tyelko and Curvo would both be cross with him, and…

On second thought, perhaps that will teach them moderation, he thought as he pulled on his boots and made his way across Fëanáro’s personal complex in Tirion to his eldest brothers’ house. 

He entered through the kitchens, hoping to alert as few Quendi as possible to his presence. Instead, to his utter shock and dismay, he found Findekáno there, pilfering through their larder. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, not bothering to hide his scowl. He did not dislike Finno, but he thought that his half-cousin spent too much time with Nelyo and Káno. He never told Nelyo that, of course–only Tyelko dared to be rude to Finno when Nelyo was around–but since Nelyo was elsewhere, he decided that he could scowl. 

Finno whirled around and looked at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape. 

“Oh! ‘Tis you, Carno. I thought that you were one of the cooks,” he said. 

Carno decided that that was a perfectly reasonable mistake for Finno to make. He had, after all, entered through the cooks’ entrance. But Finno had still not answered his question.

“Understandable error, Findekáno, but why are you here?” 

Finno took a whole three seconds longer to answer than Carno found justifiable, but he hid his irritation as ably as he could.

“Maitimo is rather tied up with work, you see, and I came to visit him early this morning. And since he is so tightly tied up, with work of course, he asked me to go fetch us food so that he can break his fast,” Finno explained rapidly. “He really needs to finish his work quickly, and he simply could not leave his chambers, so I decided to help him.” 

Carno nodded. That explanation was perfectly reasonable, but he could not understand why Finno seemed so flustered and anxious. He was even slightly flushed, which Carno found very odd. 

Perhaps they are burning the fires too hotly in here. I shall have to inquire about their usage of wood and coal, he decided. 

It was only then that he remembered that Finno was considered quite charming. He had even courted a few níssi some time ago. True, Carno could not remember hearing any stories of him being associated with any nís in particular since he had ended his seemingly serious courtship with that very pretty but rather silly wendë Ilcissë, but he still performed very well at tournaments and seemed to enjoy the attentions of the wendië there. 

“Findekáno!” he exclaimed, catching his half-cousin by the shoulder before he could leave the kitchen. “How would you ask a wendë to marry you?” 

Finno’s only answers to that question were a thoroughly confused look and the words, “I am sorry…what?”

Carno groaned and repeated his question. He did not see why it was so hard for his half-cousin to grasp. 

Maybe he really is as simple as Tyelko and Curvo think that he is, he thought. Best not say that to Nelyo though.

“Oh, well…I suppose that I would recite a litany of everything that I find beautiful and pleasing about huh..her, and then I would get down on one knee and ask…her if she would do me the honor of bonding with me until the breaking of the world and re-singing of the song. Oh! And I would try to say something about how we would convince our families to allow our match…provided that I had not already arranged that of course.” 

Carno nodded slowly and released Findekáno, who asked, “Is that all?” 

Carno nodded and let his cousin rush out of the kitchens with the food that he had pulled from the larder. Carno decided that he could no longer consider it to be pilfering if Nelyo was going to eat some of the food. 

Besides, his advice was reasonable, Carnistir decided as he went to fetch the robes that he had abandoned the other day. As he removed the garment from the loom and wrapped it over his arm, he caught sight of Finno racing up the stairs. 

Nelyo must have been unusually hungry, he decided as he went back to his father’s house. Or more likely, Finno is unusually hungry. His half-cousin could be almost gluttonous at times, and Carno suspected that he would have run fat if he did not exercise so often and so vigorously. 

Vórimo 

By the time Carnistir had finished his task, he had composed a speech in his head. He had briefly considered writing down his thoughts, but then he decided that that would make his words sound less sincere. He was surprised that he thought that Findekáno’s advice was good, so he decided that he had to ask Vórimo for advice, just to insure that love had not turned him stupid. 

Besides, who knows Valda better than her own háno? he thought to himself as made his way to Vórimo’s cabin/brewery. 

“Carnistir! To what do I owe this honor? Did we not give you enough mead last night?” his prospective good-brother exclaimed as he moved away from his skinning table. 

Carnistir turned ruddy as he tried to gather his words. It took him almost two minutes—an unaccountable length of time—to finally explain his purpose.

“I want to ask your nésa to marry me, and I need to know your opinion on what I intend to say,” he blurted out. His voice was frustratingly and uncharacteristically high-pitched. 

Perhaps talking to Káno and Finno within the same cycle of the trees has made me simple, he thought, grimacing at the horrible notion. 

“You do not need to rehearse any speech, Carno,” Vórimo said with a wide grin. “Just tell her what you want and let her make your decision. If she wants to wed you, it will not matter what you say. If she does not, then it will not matter how good your speech is.” 

Carno knew that his good-brother was right, and that made him so anxious that he reached instinctively for one of the sealed mead jugs stacked meticulously on the cabin shelves. 

“You should, however, do it sober,” Vórimo said, snatching the jug from his hand before Carno could take asingle sip.

Vórimo’s advice was so undeniably sage that Carno could not even muster the mildest of glares in response. 

Valdawen 

In spite of what Vórimo had said about speeches, Carno went to find Valdawen and muttered the words to his planned proposal to himself under his breath the whole time while picking frantically at his nails.

He was so distracted that he did not notice Valdawen until he passed under a great red oak and she landed in front of him in a deep crouch. Her hair was loose and tangled, when only an antler comb keeping it somewhat at bay. Her freckles stood out against her nut-brown skin, and her cheeks dimpled endearingly as she grinned at him. Her hunting garments were made of undyed leather, and she wore no adornments. Carno thought that nothing could have suited her better nor shown off the lean, muscular grace of her figure half so well. Still, she had surprised him, so in spite of himself, he glared at her. 

“Were you spying on me?” he grumbled. 

“Aye, Carno,” she said as she reached out and pulled a large twig out of his hair, which he realized he had let get quite tangled. He vaguely remembered walking face first into a branch on his way to see her brother. 

“And…” he asked. He did not know if it would be good for him or bad if she had overheard his speech. 

Her hearing is unparalleled. Of course she did! he thought as he wrung his hands. 

Before he could find the rest of his words, Valda grabbed his hand and shoved another wooden puzzle cube into it. 

“You can stop ripping up your nails, Carno. My answer is, ‘Yes,’” she said as she closed his other hand over the cube. 

“Do you not want to hear the rest of it?” he asked. 

Tulkas’ sac! I have become as foolish as Káno and Finno put together, he thought. To his horror, Valdawen burst out laughing. Indeed, she laughed so hard that she clutched at her ribs and doubled over. 

“By all of Nessa’s deer, Carno…” she gasped out. “I am sorry…I am sure that it was wonderful, but I fear that you would faint if you tried.”

Carno’s face turned as ruddy as his mother’s hair, but before he could get any stupider, Valdawen had tackled him to the ground and started kissing him wildly as she straddled his hips. 

He decided that her method of acceptance far exceeded his method of asking. 

Notes:

If you want to have more details on what exactly Maitimo and Findekáno were doing when Carnistir caught Finno in the kitchen and asked him for advice, just hang tight for next chapter.

Chapter 9: Tied Up (With Work of Course)

Summary:

Maitimo gets very tightly tied up. With work of course. *Findekáno sweats profusely and is definitely not hard thinking about it*

Notes:

A more detailed account of what Finno and Mae were up to when Carnistir cornered Finno in the pantry and asked for proposal tips.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Maitimo awoke to the feeling of Findekáno sucking on his neck and rubbing his erection against his hip while he held him tightly around the waist. 

“I knew that I should have never given you a key to my rooms,” he mumbled insincerely. He had not even even opened his eyes, but he was already arching back against Finno’s body, baring his neck and grinding his hips against his lover’s hard cock. He felt groggy, but even more so, he felt warm and wanted. He kept his eyes shut as he moaned softly. His own cock was already rising for Finno, and he could tell that he would have a new bruise that he would have to hide soon.

“Nonsense! Then you would never be awoken thusly,” Finno retorted before he nipped at Maitimo’s neck for emphasis.

Maitimo yelped lightly but otherwise agreed. 

“How early did you have to rise to sneak in without being seen and awaken before me?” he asked as he once again rolled his hips teasingly against Finno’s. His lover’s prick was now poking him very deliberately in between his buttucks and that realization left him feeling hot and needy enough that he finally opened his eyes. He was, after all, clad only in his nightshirt, which had bunched up around his hips overnight. He was not ready, not at all, but still, he found himself using his body to recklessly tease and tempt his lover, silently pleading to be filled. 

“Oh, before the morning mingling,” Finno replied as he tightened his grip on Maitimo’s hips and continued to buck against him. Blessedly–frustratingly–he did not actually enter Maitimo. Instead, Finno slid downward so that his spit-slicked erection slid between Maitimo’s thighs. 

“Oh, horro, you tease,” he groaned as Finno’s cock slid cruelly, tauntingly, along the underside of his stones, stimulating the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Yet he stayed away from Maitimo’s arse and Maitimo’s cock, which was, Maitimo thought, terribly unfair. 

“Nay, Maitinya, I simply have a plan that I intend to execute–your plan, actually. Well, mostly yours.” Finno’s breath hitched as he continued to rock between Maitimo’s legs, but his voice was otherwise jaunty and cheerful.

“What are you talking about?” Maitimo asked. To his horror, he was whining, though he did not blame himself for that. Finno had climbed into his bed before he could even awaken himself properly, and now Finno’s strong hand was gripping his hip roughly and possessively while he slid his big, heavy cock between Maitimo’s legs rather than into his tight, needy arse. (At least, that was how Finno regularly described it.) He flushed deeply as he realized that he was already thinking like his meldo.

“Do you remember how you suggested that I should fuck you without any concern for your pleasure so that I spilled inside of you, leaving you wanting? And then you said that I should plug you up with one of your toys so that you’d be stuck filled up with my seed until I saw fit to let you spend? And then I said that I thought that it would be even more thrilling if I tied you up too and left you in here while I went to do something else–with one of your hands free, of course, in case you needed to cut your bindings–and then came back only to frustrate you further? And only then, when you could not take it anymore or I could not take it anymore, then would I allow you to climax?” 

For a moment, Maitimo could not speak. All of his faculties were dedicated to not spilling untouched just from Finno’s words. His lover’s voice was breathy and filled with so much eagerness that it made Maitimo shudder with need, and his thrusts between Maitimo’s legs had become faster and more frantic. It was nowhere near stimulating enough to justify such a reaction on Maitimo’s part, but he never been able to resist his lover’s eagerness, especially not when he so plainly ached to fulfill Maitimo’s deepest desires.

“Yes, please do all of that,” he rasped. Finno abruptly pulled out from between his thighs, and he groaned at the loss of sensation.

“Hush, I am getting the oil and the toy,” Finno chided him. Then he slapped Maitimo’s arse roughly. 

“Fuck, Finno,” he hissed, biting his lips and bucking his hips. The spark of pain had left him reeling as well as even harder and needier than before.

“I see that I shall be very selfish and careless with you indeed to keep you from spending,” Finno observed without a hint of cruelty in his voice. Maitimo flushed all the more deeply when he realized the truthfulness of his lover’s words.

***

Maitimo was on his hands and knees on his bed, and Findekáno was fucking into him quickly, cruelly, and without any regard for him. He made no effort to angle his thrusts so that he would hit the spot that made Maitimo scream. His hands gripped Maitimo’s hips with bruising force but only to keep him up on his knees so that he could not rut against the mattress in hopes of finding some relief for his painfully erect cock. 

Maitimo knew that he should not have enjoyed this so much. His limbs should not have been trembling with desire. The evidence of his arousal should not have been dripping onto the sheets below him. The muscles of his stomach should not have been clenching as he tried to buck back into his lover’s thrusts. His hole should not have been fluttering desperately as he tried to keep his lover’s cock inside of him so that he could keep feeling his stretch. 

Findekáno had never used Maitimo so poorly. It was felt as though he were only a toy that his lover was utilizing for release. He felt demeaned and debased, and he loved it so much that he feared that he would come from the sheer mental thrill, or at least from the beautifully painful way that he was forced to stretch around Finno’s thick girth. 

Finno’s words did not help. 

“Stars, Maitinya, do you have any idea what it does to me to see you this desperate? You are squeezing me harder than I can remember. You are so tight, meldonya, like you think that you will be able to orgasm if you keep my cock in one place long enough.”

“Kánya, please!” he begged. “If you do not shut up, your words will undo me anyway and…”

His own words died on his throat as he felt Finno’s thrusts turn faster, more erratic, and even more selfish.

“Oh, oh no…too soon…” he moaned, angry and frustrated tears welling up in his eyes as he felt Finno’s release filling him up. 

“Well, it looks as though your words undid me first,” Finno panted as he pulled out too fast, making Maitimo cry out as his hole tensed desperately around the sudden emptiness inside of him. 

“And besides, I shall not leave you unstuffed for long,” Finno added as he placed a gentle and soothing hand on Maitimo’s back. 

In spite of himself, Maitimo leaned back into the touch and breathed as slowly and deeply as he could manage. 

“There you are. You are doing very well for me, Maitinya,” Finno murmured happily. “Now, time to make sure that my leavings stay inside of you, and I keep you open for later.”

Maitimo keened desperately and laid his head down on his forearms. He knew how vulnerable he must look, but the adoring gasp from Finno only warmed him more. A moment later, he felt one of the false cocks, already warmed from oil, breaching him.

“Oh oh oh,” he panted as he braced himself. A shudder rippled over him as he felt the head settle against his sweet spot. He knew that he could spend in only a minute or two if Finno kept thrusting it into him at that perfect angle. 

Naturally, Finno did not, and Maitimo loved and hated him for it. 

***

The waiting was the most deliciously frustrating part. True to his word, Finno had bound him, but only after braiding his hair into a rope. He had used that to drag Maitimo over to his own desk, where he made him kneel on a pillow beside the chair so that Maitimo was already panting and burning from the humiliating thrill of it all before he had even been properly tied up. 

Only then had Finno wrapped their silken red ropes around him, crossing them over his body and looping them around the apex of his thighs to create a harness that he could later use to pull Maitimo wherever he wanted him to go. That alone would not have been so exciting, had Finno not placed the ropes across his chest so that they rubbed against his nipples every time he so much as breathed, or–better, worse–placed a knot right over his entrance that pressed on the base of the toy. That well-placed knot kept the false cock pushing deep inside Maitimo so that even the slightest movement left him squirming and growling for a proper fucking. 

Worse, he could barely move, for Finno had then tied his ankles to his thighs, completely immobilizing his lower body, and tied his left arm behind his back. His right hand was technically free, so that he could reach down and retrieve the cutting shears if he felt his circulation failing. However, he could not use it to reach between his legs and grab his cock. Finno had stained it with ink before he left to get them food and ordered him to keep it on his thigh. 

As soon as Finno announced his intention to leave, Maitimo shamed himself further by gasping out, “Please, Kánya, I am already filled with your seed. Just feed me more of it, and I shall be fine.” His treacherous stomach had rumbled then, and hunger had temporarily drowned out his other needs. 

“Oh, but I want to take care of you, Maitinya,” he had crooned, tugging none too gently at a stray forelock that hung in Maitimo’s eyes. That was another thing that he was not allowed to touch until Finno released him. He moaned in response to the pain and the realization of how helpless he truly was. He thought that he might swoon from the lack of blood going to his brain or that he might die from being too hard. 

Then Finno added, “Once we’ve satisfied your need for bodily nutrition, then I can feed you more enjoyable things,” and Maitimo realized that his body was stronger than he had realized. As he watched Finno go, he thought, madly, heatedly, that he would have to suffer without the relief of death or at least unconsciousness. 

***

Finno had meant to cook something for them, but Carnistir’s unexpected interruption had shaken him so thoroughly that he had instead gathered up a massive plate of hard boiled eggs, figs, honey, and sprouted bread. As soon as he had gathered up their breakfast and answered Carno’s puzzling questions about proposals, his heart in his throat the whole time, he raced back to Maitimo as soon as he could. 

As he ran up the steps, he cursed himself for his stupidity. 

Finno, you fool! “Tied up, with work of course!” Lucky for you that Carno is so stupidly straightforward! 

He was so anxious that his erection had flagged almost entirely by the time he reached his lover’s chambers. Almost. 

At least I had the sense to put on the long tunic, or even Carno would have guessed, he thought as he made his way to Maitimo’s desk. 

His erection returned almost immediately and with a vengeance. His mouth dropped open and positively watered at the sight before him. 

Maitimo was flushed and whimpering. There were faint marks on his skin were the ropes and dragged as he strained futilely against them. 

He has given up fighting now though, Finno thought, both his heart and his cock leaping as he observed, eyes wife, pupils dilated, and nostrils flared, how Maitimo had slumped bonelessly against the solid wood of the desk. 

“What took you so long?” he asked. Finno thought that he was trying to make his voice sound commanding, and he was failing miserably. 

“I shall tell you later,” he declared, grinning broadly as he set their plate down on the desk. 

Maitimo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but before he could ask questions, Finno set about distracting him. He stripped off his tunic and sat in the chair, his legs wide and his hips thrust forward.

Immediately, Maitimo’s expression changed. His jaw went slack, and his eyes turned as he raked them over Finno’s torso before settling on the generous bulge between his legs. For a long moment, Finno could not bring himself to do anything but bask in the open adoration that he was receiving from Maitimo. 

It was gratifying to be so openly desired by one whom he privately considered greater and more beautiful than himself. It was not that lacked confidence in himself. He knew that he was handsome and that he had honed his body well. He knew that he was charming too and that their people liked him. It was simply that he had always found Maitimo’s looks to be more unique and more eye-catching. In his youth, he had thought that he was jealous of his older friend and kinsman. Now, he often wondered if even then, he had yearned and wanted.

But now I have, he thought as he reached out to stroke Maitimo’s face. He tenderly caressed the soft, freckled skin and ghosted his fingertips along the high cheekbones and sharp collarbone. 

“You did well, Russanya,” he murmured as he reached down and lifted Maitimo’s right hand, the one that he had stained with ink. “You resisted the urge to bring yourself to climax.” He used a damp cloth that he had brought from the bathing chamber to clean the ink off of Maitimo’s hand, and then he brought it to his lips, tenderly kissing each knuckle. 

“I was good for you, wasn’t I, Kánya?” Maitimo murmured back, dropping his eyes and fluttering his eyelashes temptingly. 

“Mm, yes, let me check your bonds and then feed you.” Maitimo’s eyes flickered lustfully, and Finno chuckled as he added, “I meant the food, sweetling.”

He slid from his chair and pulled Maitimo into his arms as he tested his grip and made certain that he could still slip a finger between the ropes on his ankles and thighs. 

“I can see how hard you are, meldonya,” Maitimo purred as Finno dropped a kiss onto his shoulder. “You could just take me here and now.”

He was begging so prettily that Finno almost gave into him. Almost. 

“I could,” he agreed as he reached down and shamelessly groped Maitimo’s arse. His lover’s responding moans shot straight to his cock, but still, he resisted. “But then we would both have far less fun. Besides, you are hungry, and I do want you to keep up your strength. You must burn through so much fuel just being such a tall nér. Someone must make sure that you eat enough.” He patted Maitimo’s slim left hip affectionately before going back to the chair. Then he grabbed hold of the ropes crossing across his chest and pulled Maitimo towards him so that he had to rest his head against the inside of one of Finno’s thighs for stability. 

Beautiful, he thought as he ran his finger along the underside of his lover’s binding. 

***

After almost a half an hour spent feeding Maitimo and himself. Finno was convinced that he had stumbled onto a scenario that teased him more dreadfully than it did his Russo. 

The eggs were not so bad, even though Maitimo sucked them between his lips before swallowing as he might have sucked one of Finno’s stones into his mouth before laving them with his tongue. The figs were far worse. 

Finno thought that inspiration had struck when he ordered Maitimo to lick the juices off of his hands and fingers. Maitimo responded so eagerly to command that Finno’s heart lurched his chest and trousers suddenly felt far too constricting. When Maitimo began to lick and kiss over his palm, he had to start palming his erection through his pants. When Maitimo began to licking his fingers and started to suck on them, dragging his tongue along the underside of each digit and moaning throatily as he did, Finno used his free hand to unlace himself and shove his trousers down so that at least his cock could breathe. 

“Are you going to feed me that next, Kánya?” Maitimo asked, his eyes glinting as he stared at Finno’s prick, barely contained by his loose small clothes. 

Finno slapped him hard across the face for his presumptuousness, but that did him no good. Maitimo hissed and arched his back, clearly seeking some stimulation from the toy that was still inside of him–keeping my seed inside of him–and the veins in Finno’s prick pulsed uncomfortably at the sight of the handprint on his lover’s cheek. Still, he managed to spread some honey onto the sprouted bread and feed that to Maitimo next. 

It was the honey that proved to be his undoing. Maitimo still had only one hand free, and it rested lightly on Finno’s thigh. The touch was minuscule but it burned Finno’s flesh. It also meant that Maitimo could not eat neatly—or that he could at least argue that the honey accidentally dripped onto the corner of his mouth, down his chin, and onto his chest. 

Had Finno been stronger and even more stubborn, he would have wiped Maitimo clean with a damp cloth. However, the very nature of his stubbornness meant that he simply could not let any of their food go to waste. 

So, he slid off of the chair again and began to lick it off of Maitimo. He ran his tongue everywhere that he thought might be stained with honey. The taste of the sticky sweet fluid mingling with his lover’s sweat and his lover’s skin was overwhelming. Finno’s fingers trembled as his hands ran down Maitimo’s sides, and he panted as he ran his tongue over his lover’s broad, muscled chest. When he circled one of Maitimo’s nipples and sucked into his mouth, his lover began to shake and plead. Finno knew that if he wanted to play the game out as he had envisioned, he should have pulled away. 

Instead, Finno realized that some of the honey had dripped down Maitimo’s stomach and onto the head of his cock, where it must have been mixing with the fluid pooling and dripping from the reddened tip.

At that realization, Finno took leave of his senses completely. He forgot to make any pretense that he was in command of the situation. He was sure that he was panting and sweating to a shameful degree as he grabbed hold of the shears, cut his lover’s arm and legs free, and then flung the sharp object far across the room so that they would not accidentally roll on it later. Then he threw Maitimo onto his back, flung his legs over his shoulders, and began the task of licking his arousal clean.

Maitimo flung his head back and howled with such wild abandon, his toes curling against Finno’s back, that Finno was amazed that he did not come untouched before his desperate, overstimulated lover. The sounds coming from Maitimo’s lips and the taste of his nomílt combined with the honey drove Finno so wild that he gave up teasing. 

Instead, he sucked hungrily at the head. He undid the knot that kept the toy in place inside his Russo’s entrance. The harness around his lover’s body loosened, but Finno was too far gone with the thrill of Maitimo’s ecstasy to care. Instead, he grabbed hold of the base of the toy and thrust roughly into Maitimo until his lover’s seed filled his mouth. 

Finno’s body shook with need as he drank every drop. He pulled the toy out of Maitimo and threw it aside, not caring about the mess. As for Maitimo, it seemed that he could not have cared about the mess if he tried. His eyes were still clenched shut, and he was still shuddering through his long-delayed orgasm when Finno’s sheathed himself inside of him. 

“Too much, too much,” Maitimo rasped, but his now freed arms wrapped around Finno’s neck and pulled him down. His legs were still hitched over Finno’s shoulders, and his thighs were still quivering and his toes were still curled. Best of all, he had not said their word. 

“Not for you, you perfect little slut,” Finno panted hoarsely as he fucked his lover without reservation. “You can take so much more. You…oh!”

Words failed him. His head swam, and his abdominals clenched. His cock began to spasm as he remembered that he was fucking his previous release back into Maitimo, that he was set to fill him again, mark him, claim him. 

Maybe if I fill him up often enough, it will even take, and….

That last thought was so filthy, so wild that Finno came without warning. His whole body shook, and he shouted out his lover’s name as he spilled inside of him again. 

Maitimo held him tightly through the whole thing. His fingers gripped Finno’s shoulders tightly enough to bruise, and his blunted nails scraped over his skin. The rough, possessive hold only strengthened the force of Finno’s orgasm, and he let out a needy sob as Maitimo, voice surprisingly tender, urged him through it. 

Once he was finally spent and his prick had softened too much for him to remain inside of his bedmate, he pulled out and rolled them over so that he could cradle Maitimo against his chest. 

He knew that he should clean them both up, but for that moment, he was content to just have Maitimo wrapped in his arms where he could stroke him and breathe in the combined scents. 

“I swear, Kánya, you will be the death of us both,” Maitimo murmured into his chest. “Please, never change.” 

Finno's heart soared as he swore that he never would. 

Notes:

I wrote this instead of going to see fireworks or doing anything at all to celebrate July 4th. I consider that time well spent. As always, comments are appreciated.

I'm also amazed at how many new kinks came up in this chapter.

Chapter 10: The Tables Are Turned

Summary:

It’s time for Finno to get tied up.

Notes:

I must thank starlightwalking, who requested more of Maitimo topping from the bottom, for helping me plan this one out. Anyway, this takes place sometime between chapters 12 and 13 of the main fic.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“You should let me tie you up instead next time,” Maitimo murmured. His voice was still shaky and hoarse from crying out feigned protests through the gag that Findekáno had shoved into his mouth before taking him forcefully on the floor of their secret cave.

Finno paused, his lips still pressed lightly against one of the marks that he had left on Maitimo’s right shoulder, and considered it very seriously. 

“Go on,” he said, his voice trembling a little as well. As he waited to hear more of Maitimo’s fantasy, he sat up so that he could lay his lover’s head in his lap and better reach his chafed wrists to apply soothing ointments to them. This was only the second time that they had played their most dangerous game–the one where they pretended that they were not already lovers and that Finno was seizing Maitimo by force and ravishing him on the floor of the cave that Finno had found for them almost a century ago in the Pelóri Mountains–and they were both still shaking from it. Still, as sated as he was, Finno could not deny that his heart was thrumming with anticipation again, even if his cock refused to rise. 

When Maitimo took too long to respond, Finno added, “Do you want to pretend that you’re forcing me to hardness so that you can fuck yourself on me, or….?” His voice trailed off anxiously. He could not deny that the idea had some appeal, but Maitimo had never bound him before during their lovemaking, and he was not sure that they should rush so hastily into something like that. 

“Nay, I merely want to see you writhing helplessly beneath me while you beg me to take my pleasure from you more quickly,” Maitimo answered, a small, wicked smile playing across his bruised lips. “Or rather…let you have yours. If you were tied tightly enough to the bed, then I think that I could deny you your climax long enough for me to have my fill of you again and again.” He paused and grinned more broadly and even more wickedly, while Finno’s limp cock twitched slightly and helplessly.
“Keep going,” he breathed, his eyes widening and his breathing slowing. He absently ran his fingers over his lover’s right hip, rubbing more ointment onto the welts that he had left there with his belt as he waited. He knew that he was going to let Maitimo do whatever it was that he planned. He simply needed to hear more. Indeed, he very desperately needed to hear more. 

***

Findekáno’s hröa already felt boneless in Maitimo’s arms when his lover pressed him naked to the bed, straddled his hips, and kissed him deeply. Neither the hold nor the kiss were especially forceful, and he was not even bound yet. Still, he felt helpless as Maitimo’s tongue flicked over his lips and coaxed them open. He moaned shamelessly as his meldo’s tongue found his and caressed it teasingly. He bucked his hips helplessly against Maitimo’s in a futile effort to press their erections together when Maitimo sucked on his lower lip. He whimpered when Maitimo began to nibble on that lip, and he started to beg when Maitimo held his hips firmly and frotted against him only once. 

“Oh, I shall definitely have to gag you,” Maitimo observed as he pulled back and reached for their ropes. Finno’s eyes followed him as he moved, drinking in the way that the lean muscles of his lover’s hröa flexed and stretched. 

“But you want me to…” He licked his lips for emphasis as his words failed him. Maitimo hovered over him again, looking impossibly tall, intoxicatingly powerful, and tantalizingly regal. His hröa was entirely bare, but he needed no raiment apart from his hair to impress Findekáno, especially not when his pose so emphasized his strength. Finno licked his lips again as his gaze trailed down Maitimo’s flat stomach to take in the sight of his erection.

“Ai, do not draw this out, Russo,” he murmured, trying his best to sound as tempting as Maitimo did when Finno bound him. “I can see how eager you are too, how you strain for release.” 

Maitimo laughed loudly as he looped one of the ropes around Finno’s left wrist, knotted it, and pulled it taut. Finno’s breath caught in his chest as he took in the sensation of the silken fabric against his skin.
“Tell me if it is too tight,” Maitimo said gently as he checked to make sure that he could slip a finger between Finno’s wrist and the tie.

“‘Tis not, I am only…” He paused, trying to understand how he felt. 

“I like it better than I expected,” he admitted. He felt his cheeks heating up, and he scolded himself for feeling embarrassed.

“That is good then,” Maitimo said as he looped the other end of the rope around the bedpost. Finno’s shoulders were broad enough that the stretch did not cause him discomfort, not even when Maitimo tied his other wrist, but the slight strain on his muscle and the soft slide of the ropes over his skin was doing strange things to him. He was still hard–even harder than he had been before, if he was honest, though Maitimo had not touched his cock the entire time–and his stomach fluttered in anticipation. He knew that he was far less restrained than Maitimo normally was when they played these games–the ropes were not even chafing him–but he still felt vulnerable, unable to touch himself or pull Maitimo towards him. 

I will rely entirely on him for my release. That thought heated his blood further and made his loins clench in need. 

Maitimo placed a long finger underneath his chin and tilted his head up to look into his eyes again. Finno’s lips parted as he met his lover’s gaze, and he swallowed in a desperate attempt to make his mouth feel less dry when he saw how Maitimo’s lips parted too as he stared down at Finno. The other nér’s hazel eyes were clouded with lust but also with an emotion that Finno recognized as adoration. 

Ai! He is looking at me as I look at him when he is like this, Finno thought, bucking up against Maitimo instinctively. 

Ai, Kánya, it seems that I will have to tie your ankles as well,” Maitimo observed. His teasing smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes drew a pained gasp from Finno’s lips, and he nodded instinctively. 

“Yes, yes, I am so eager for you and so strong that you will need to do that, Maitinya,” he agreed. 

Maitimo rewarded him with a quick, impulsive kiss and an impassioned, “Ai, you are taking to this far more quickly than I expected.” 

***

Finno could feel his cock leaking and straining against his belly as Maitimo sat on his face, writhing shamelessly against Finno’s tongue as it worked into his entrance, moistening him, opening him, and tasting him and feeling how warm and ready he was. Better still were high, needy keens that his ministrations wrung out of Maitimo. 

This has to be the most degrading thing that I have ever done, Finno thought, his mind spinning with lust as he probed his lover’s hole with gusto. Normally, when he did this to Maitimo, he was the one who had his lover on his back or on his stomach, and he was the one who murmured affectionate taunts and encouragements in between licks and nips. This time, however, Finno was the one who was left flushing, panting, and sweating with need while he serviced his meldo, who grinded shamelessly back against his mouth and ordered him to go faster, then slower, then harder, then deeper, and so on. Every command went straight to Finno’s groin, making him feel needier, and every moan and whimper that he drew from his meldo made his head spin and his abdominals clench in arousal. 

Finno shook with need and let out his own moans against Maitimo’s arse. The vibrations drew out a gratifying gasp from the other nér, who retaliated by scraping his nails over Finno’s nipples and pinching them roughly but skillfully. Finno’s gasp was muffled, and he tugged and kicked at his bindings futilely. The ropes chafed against his skin but held him fast, and he panted as he stiffed his tongue and pressed it as deep into Maitimo as it could go. 

He is opening me for me so well, and soon I will put my cock in here…if he lets me. 

He wanted to beg for more, but he dared not stray from his task. He felt so vulnerable and so unable to resist the pleasures that all the sensations around him caused, and he knew that he had no choice but to enjoy them. 

And I could not speak aloud if I wanted to, he thought. That realization made him quiver, and he realized too late that he was hovering just on the edge of release. He had neither the time nor the means to warn Maitimo how close he was. 

Then again, perhaps Maitimo had noticed, for he rolled Finno’s stiff nipples between his fingers gently but skillfully before tugging on them just enough to make Finno hiss in pain, to make the sensation go straight to his cruelly neglected erection, and to…

Finno’s screams were muffled as his lover ground against his face again, and his eyes clenched shut as he felt his cock spasming and spurting already. Distantly, he heard Maitimo laughing above him as he finally—too quickly–moved away from Finno’s face. 

By the time his head had stopped spinning and he had opened his eyes, Maitimo was hovering over him, his chest flush against Finno’s and his elbows resting lightly against his shoulders. The motion pressed Finno against the mattress and made him shake all the more as he realized once again how caught he was. 

“May I continue?” Maitimo asked after he pressed a kiss against his cheek, his forehead, and even his lips before Finno could protest. 

“Yes, yes, I love this. You are so…gorgeous like this,” Finno breathed. 

“You could barely see me,” Maitimo teased. 

“I could see enough,” Finno retorted boldly, “where I want my cock to go next.”

Maitimo chuckled and leaned down to lick his earlobe. His chest pressed firmly against Finno’s oversensitized nipples, making him hiss in pained pleasure. 

“Yet I made you spend without even touching your cock once,” Maitimo observed. 

Finno flushed and glared at Maitimo, fully aware that the other nér could not see him.

“I suppose that I shall have to blindfold you as well as gag you, so that the sight of me will not make you spend too quickly again,” Maitimo said, clicking his tongue lightly. 

“Oh…” Finno moaned, his eyes widening and his mouth going dry again. Maitimo smiled adoringly at him, and Finno’s heart fluttered before the blindfold was in place. 

***

The gag was far softer and far less cruel than the ball and chain that he had shoved into Maitimo’s mouth in the cave, but Finno still cursed it as it muffled his moans and his pleas. He could not see what Maitimo was doing–he could see nothing but the black silk of the scarf tied over his eyes–but he could feel the other nér tongue working lazily over his stones. His flesh was still slightly oversensitized from his climax, and while he normally did not crave overstimulation the way that Maitimo did, he found that, caught as tightly as he was in Maitimo’s web, he suddenly enjoyed it far too much. He could feel his cock twitching to life again, and he wanted to groan and beg Maitimo to suck him. But he could not, for the gag was keeping his protests back. He knew that he could use osanwë if he needed to call a halt, but he desperately needed this to continue. His fingers still twitched eagerly, and Maitimo had tested his grip before blindfolding him, and he knew that he was in no danger.

So he suffered through it, trying and failing to kick. He could not even hold Maitimo’s head in between his thighs and force him to stay where Finno wanted him. His shoulders ached as he strained against the ropes on his wrists again, another reminder that he could not grab his lover by his hair and make him suck his cock. He was surprised to find that being unable to do that was nearly as arousing as having complete control, but he was no longer ashamed. 

(He was far too consumed with lust to be ashamed.)

He thought that his imagination was vivid enough to conjure up an accurate image of how Maitimo must look, lying in between his legs and teasing him with his long tongue while his thick red hair fell on his thighs and tickled the skin. He imagined that his lover was perhaps stroking his cock, which was long and lovely like the rest of him, as he avoided Finno’s, though no sounds gave it away. Still, he was so convinced that he knew what Maitimo was doing that a strangled yelp tore from his lips when the other nér suddenly grasped the base of his cock and roughly licked his rising erection from base to tip. 

At last! Finno thought as tears of relief pricked at his eyes. 

Yet Maitimo stopped after only granting Finno one firm but brief suck. 

“I am sorry, I did not quite hear what you said? Was that too much, too soon?” 

Finno groaned as he felt his first tears fall, and he shook his head frantically. He could not see Maitimo, but he could imagine how wickedly his meldo must have been grinning as he watched Finno falling to pieces for him after only a little bit of teasing.

“You shall have to be clearer, Kánya,” Maitimo crooned. Finno keened angrily into his gag as his lover’s finger circled his right nipple and tweaked it. 

When Maitimo added lightly, “I cannot tell if you are enjoying this or not,” Finno actually did begin to cry. 

To his horror, he did not even hate it. He often reduced Maitimo to tears in their bed, either by teasing him too meanly or using him too roughly, and while he had believed that meldo when he insisted that the tears brought him relief, he had never quite understood until now how that could be 

He wanted satisfaction in that moment more fiercely than he could ever remember wanting it. Worse, he knew that he was entirely dependent on another to give him what he so strongly desired. He should have hated it, but he could not deny how triumphant and euphoric he felt when Maitimo suddenly took his erection in his mouth again. 

Better still were the sounds that accompanied it. It took Finno a moment to identify the slick, wet noises that he heard, but once he did—once he properly conjured up and image of Maitimo vigorously sucking his cock while he prepared his own arse to get fucked—Finno moaned again. This time, the sound was so unmistakably happy that Maitimo evidently could not pretend to misunderstand it. He did, however, laugh triumphantly around Finno’s erection, and that feeling was even better. 

Before Finno could properly begin to enjoy the feeling of having his prick caught in between Maitimo’s full lips, however, the other nér released him with an obscene pop.

Finno tried and failed to whine piteously, but the sound soon became one of pleasure when he felt Maitimo’s warm, oil-slicked hand running over his now rock-hard erection. 

Finally, he thought. He almost forgot the ties on his wrists, and the ropes chafed him again as he tried to grab hold of his lover’s slim hips. Still, he could feel Maitimo’s thighs trembling against his own hips as the other nér straddled him again. 

There was not a single part of Finno’s hröa that was not aching and thrumming with anticipation as he waited for Maitimo to finally mount him and begin to ride him. 

The sudden feeling of the gag being ripped out of his mouth made Finno gasp and almost distracted him from the feeling of Maitimo suddenly slamming down on his prick, engulfing it entirely in that warm, unbearably tight passage. Almost. 

“Maitinya,” Finno cried hoarsely. Maitimo’s responding laugh was filled with pure delight, and Finno’s heart soared as he began to moan shamelessly as his bedmate started bouncing on his erection. Finno could tell by the rhythm that Maitimo was primarily concerned with pleasing himself, but the motions still felt far better than anything that Finno could replicate with his own hand or that Maitimo could manage with his mouth, however talented it was. 

Ai, yes, let me hear you, Kánya,” Maitimo commanded in between breathy little moans. His voice only shook slightly as he gave his order, and the sounds heated Finno’s blood further. 

“How are you still so tight for me after all of this time?” he asked. He heard Maitimo gasp and felt him clench, so he continued while Maitimo began riding him faster. His heart was racing rapidly, and his abdominals clenched as he tried to hold off his own release.“Have you just become so accustomed to having me inside of you? Do you think that I have carved a space inside of you just for myself, so that your hole is molded just for me, and no others?”’ It was difficult for Findekáno to keep speaking while he reveled in the deliciously hot squeeze around his prick and the sounds that his words drew from his lover. Yet Maitimo seemed to grow louder and more desperate with every word that fell from Finno’s lips, so he kept speaking.

“Do you think that anyone but me will ever be able to satisfy you again? Have I ruined you for other néri, Maitinya?” No sooner had those words left his mouth then he felt his lover still above him. The clench around his cock became almost unbearable as Maitimo suddenly began to buck in quick shallow movements around.

“So close,” Finno rasped as he felt his own climax rising. His eyes clenched shut, and he tried and failed again to escape his bonds and grab his meldo

Something warm, wet, and sticky sprayed over his belly, and suddenly, the maddening tightness around his cock was gone. 

He heard Maitimo’s hröa collapse onto the bed beside him, and Finno howled in frustration.

He heard Maitimo chuckle breathlessly, and he howled again until Maitimo pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. 

Finno sighed happily in spite of himself and returned the kiss. It was so sweet that he almost forgot how badly his stones hurt from his need to spend. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of their combined sweat and musk. He was almost content until Maitimo pulled away. 

“I think that I shall have to gag you again until I am finished with you,” Maitimo announced.

Finno opened his mouth to protest, but the sound died in his throat as he realized that he actually quite liked the idea.

***

Maitimo brought himself off twice more, using Finno’s cock as he would have used one of his toys, before he finally pulled off the gag and the blindfold. Light flooded into Finno’s eyes, and the sight of Maitimo took his breath away. His meldo looked positively undone above him. His skin shone with the sweat of his frantic exertions, and his hair was wild and tangled. His limbs trembled, and his abdominals were visibly clenching with effort. Finno had never seen anything so beautiful and so erotic, and he was amazed that he did not come undone on the spot. 

“Can I?” Finno begged piteously. He was so exhausted and so needy that he did not even bother trying to pull free. He was so hard and his stones were pressed so tightly against his groin that he thought that he might die if he did not finally achieve release. He could not stand being edged and then denied yet again. 

“Please,” Maitimo breathed as he brought their lips together in a bruising kiss. Finno kissed back just as frantically and just as sloppily. He felt Maitimo clench around him and then blessedly, finally, he came.

His climax, so long delayed, shook his whole hröa and made him scream. He felt as though it would never end as his prick spasmed again and again, releasing into his meldo, who trembled and panted above him. Finno still could not grab Maitimo, but Maitimo was there to hold him through it, kissing his forehead and stroking his face and his shoulders tenderly until, finally, his ecstasy faded.

Finno whined in protest when Maitimo slid off of him. 

“Hush, let me untie you,” his meldo said softly. Once the ties on his wrists and his ankles had been undone, Finno finally realized how sore he was. 

He supposed that he should have been indignant, but Maitimo massaged his shoulders, his wrists, and his ankles so skillfully that he forgot to be. Soon, the slight ache, which was not unpleasant, faded, to be replaced with a warm, comfortable feeling.

“Thank you for indulging me in this,” his Russo added as he settled down beside Finno and kissed him gently on the mouth. “You did very well, you know.”

Finno was aware that he likely looked even more thoroughly wrecked than Maitimo, but he could not resist the urge to preen at the praise.

“I did, did I not?” he said with a fearless laugh. 

His Russo returned his laugh and tweaked his nose ring affectionately. 

“Let me draw us a bath so that we can both clean up,” he said. 

Finno grinned happily as he sank back into the sheets. The mess did not even bother him, for they were in his hunting lodge, where it was easy to clean things discreetly, and the bath was still large enough for them both. 

To his surprise, he found that he did not even feel overly coddled when Maitimo lifted him up and carried him to the massive tub. He supposed that he could enjoy his lover’s strength for a bit longer. 

Notes:

Is this a 3700 word outtake about how Finno should just let Maitimo top him for real already? It sure is!

Anyway, feedback is appreciated as always. I’m really happy at how many kudos and comments this shameless smut fest has gotten. Thank you all so much!

Chapter 11: Bad Desire

Summary:

Findekáno wants to sneak out and spend time with Maitimo after his 200th begetting day celebration. He bribes Írissë to cover up for him by giving her unlimited access to his rooms for the night, so naturally, she invites her favorite Fëanárion cousin Tyelkormo over for some fun.

Notes:

This takes place alongside the flower-crown scene in chapter thirteen of the main fic. Also, I shamelessly Tolkien-ified the lyrics of “I’m on Fire” by Bruce Springsteen. Finally, Írissë and Tyelko are kinky, danger-loving fuckers, so there’s some light knifeplay and bloodplay, as well as references to breathplay.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Írissë!” she heard her eldest brother cry out. His voice was strained, and she knew, without looking up from her gray-and-white mare Larcatal, that Findekáno meant to ask her for a favor. 

His next few words convinced her of that. 

Nésa, my favorite nésa,” Finno continued. He seemed to be gaining confidence as he spoke, so Írissë snorted openly and looked up at him, only so that he could see her roll her eyes. 

“I am your only nésa, dear háno,” she tutted. 

Finno’s eyes hardened, but his tone grew lighter.

“Aye, but you would still be my favorite, even if I had four or more,” he told her. He beamed shamelessly as he spoke. Írissë supposed that some would have found him charming. 

At the very least, it works on one Ñoldo, she thought, smirking. 

“Enough pretty words, Finno. What do you want?” 

Her brother had the good grace to look shocked and wounded. 

“Írissë! I am not just here to ask you a favor…”

“Finno, ‘tis your two-hundredth begetting day celebration, and you are likely supposed to be entertaining your well-wishers and bask in their praises. Of course you are only in the stables to ask for a favor.” She stepped away from Larcatal so that she could meet her brother’s eyes properly, put her hands on her hips, and give him a commanding glare. 

‘Tis good that your height is unacceptional for a nér for I can meet you at eye-level for this, she thought. 

Finno’s mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed. Írissë counted off five seconds until her brother’s face relaxed, and he shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

Aiya! I confess. I was hoping that you would aid me tonight. I want to leave without being followed before the ball is over, and I want you to help me feign illness–perhaps you could take me back to my rooms and guard them for me while I leave through the side entrance?” he asked. His eyes widened, and his voice went up in pitch as it always did when he was eager for something. 

Írissë almost asked him why he would want such a thing from her, just to fluster him. It was her ill fortune to already know the answer. 

Tulkas’ stones, can he really not wait until the end of the night to sneak off to his fuck-cabin with “Maitinya”? She would have asked him that question aloud, but her mind had already calculated ways in which she could benefit from granting him this favor. She knew that if she told him that she understood his “hunting lodge’s” true purpose along with the identity of his lover, she would leave him so flustered that he might do something exceptionally foolish, like trying to enlist Arakáno’s aid. 

Instead, she shrugged and asked, “What will you grant me in exchange?” 

Finno’s face lit up as though she had already agreed to him, and he exclaimed, without hesitation, “Anything that you desire! Name your price, and you shall have it.” 

Írissë felt as triumphant as her brother looked, and she had to choke back a raucous laugh. 

“The keys that your rooms–two sets shall do–that shall not be returned to you until Laurelin’s next rising,” she replied.

Finno’s face dimmed considerably, and his eyes narrowed. 

“Why do you want two sets of keys to my rooms?” he asked. His voice had acquired an edge to it that Írissë found hilarious. Indeed it took a considerable effort on her part to contain her laughter. 

Instead, she contented herself with rolling her eyes yet again and scoffing openly at him.

“Why do you want to sneak away?” she asked. 

Finno took a half-step backwards. His eyes widened, and his mouth opened, seemingly of its own accord, but no sound came out.

Írissë grinned broadly and spoke before her brother could deliver some ridiculous lie about having a nís from some far off city or settlement whom he was meeting at his private fuck-cabin. 

(Finno claimed that it was a hunting lodge, but Tyelko had aptly rebaptized it “the fuck-cabin” when Írissë had mentioned its construction, and she greatly preferred that description.) 

“If you do not insist on receiving answers from me, then I shall not insist on receiving answers from you,” she said. 

Finno exhaled with visible relief and agreed immediately. He even sealed their bargain with a minor oath. 

***

Írissë had imbibed just enough miruvor and dark, spiced wine at the ball to leave her head buzzing pleasantly as she entered her eldest brother’s chambers and locked the door behind her. All of the lamps were out, which was unusual. Even more noteworthy was the faint scent of the wilderness permeating the room. 

Tyelko, she thought as she inhaled deeply. A shiver ran up her spine; the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and hot anticipation reared up inside of her. She knew that he had beaten her to her brother’s rooms, and she did not mean to have him catch her off guard–at least, not without a show of resistance first. 

A large, strong hand caught her by the throat. She only had time to let out a single, choked-off gasp before she found herself pressed back a board, muscled chest. The scent of the wilderness filled her nostrils, and her breath fled her lungs, though the hand on her neck made no move to cut off her airflow. She was merely caught by the throat, and—her head span as she realized it—by her kinsman’s other arm—his bare left arm—around her waist. 

“Hello, little wendë, is your Atya home?” Tyelko growled those words into ear. The feel of his hot breath on her neck made her shiver. Then he placed his left hand firmly on her pelvis and pushed her back against his. She felt his cock, already hard and insistent, pressing against her arse, and she felt herself growing wet between her legs. 

She was dressed in far too many layers, but she could still feel the heat of her cousin’s strong frame through the light travel garments that he wore. 

“Alas, he has left me all alone,” she breathed as she tilted her head back to lean against his shoulder. She pushed her chest out, parted her lips, and let her eyes slide half-closed. Tyelko inhaled sharply as her dark gray eyes met his silvery ones, and she grinned back at him languidly. 

Caught you off guard too, my fair onóro, she thought.

That is his misfortune, for he has no idea what wicked desires have formed in my mind as of late,” Tyelko replied. 

His right hand left Írissë’s throat without warning. She turned her head to the side, seeking answers, but his hand was back too quickly. 

“Oh,” she breathed as she looked down and saw the delicate knife held at her breast. “A blade, onóronya? For what purpose?” Her tone was innocent, but she knew that her eyes gleamed wickedly and wantonly. Her small clothes were soaked, and her pearl ached between her legs.

“Alas, my dark little wendë, I fear that you are far too overdressed. The fire inside of me burns too hot for more to waste time disrobing you like a maid servant, and so…” 

A lewd moan escaped her lips as she heard the sound of fine silks and damasks tearing, and she clenched her thighs together as she saw her outer robes parting.

Ai! What a brute you are! Those were amongst the finest examples of embroidery from Amya’s workshop,” she protested. Her voice was far too throaty for her admonition to sound convincing, but she hoped that she made up for it by swooning back against Tyelko’s shoulder. 

The swoon was feigned, but the light-headed neediness that overcame her whenever she and Tyelko played at being the heroine and hero of some tawdry Falmarin poem was real. 

“A brute indeed, little wendë, come to ravish you in the sanctuary of your eldest háno’s rooms too,” Tyelko agreed as he tore Írissë’s ruined robes from her shoulders. She was left only in her shift, corset, and small clothes, and if the lean, hard lines of her form betrayed her lack of true helplessness, that deterred neither of them.

Írissë sighed deeply and offered up more faint protests as Tyelko swept her into his arms and tossed her onto Finno’s bed. 

“Oh, ai! Barbarian!” she moaned shamelessly, even as she looked up at him and drank in the sight of his half-naked form. She realized that he had been so impatient that he had stripped off his shirt and tunic before she even entered the room. 

Her maidenly act dropped momentarily as she drank in the sight of him through heavily lidded eyes. It seemed to her that he grew broader and better muscled each time that she saw him. His shoulders and arms were thick, sculpted, and corded with muscles and covered in tattoos of vines and branches. His pectorals were just as strong and fine and decorated with horns that crowned an eight-pointed star that covered his torso from the bottom of his chest to his navel. He was too sturdy to have a narrow waist, but his figure nonetheless dipped into a pleasing V, and her eyes followed it down until she reached his groin and licked her lips at the sight of the prominent bulge there. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she kept still. 

He has the knife. I shall seize it next  round and decorate his fine hröa as I please, she thought. 

“Keep going. You are describing me so aptly,” Tyelko ordered. Írissë was unable to keep back a laugh of triumph when she heard how his voice shook, but she forced herself back in character in order to delight them both. 

Besides, the better I play this, the sooner I get his fingers and his cock, she thought. She intended to have his lizard-like tongue later on that night too, but not for this first round. 

“Monster! Ravisher! Wicked nér! Kin-fucker! Despoiler of wendië,” she moaned. Tyelko’s blade sliced through her shift and corset, and Írissë had to bite her lip and clutch the silken sheets tightly to stop herself from writhing and making the knife slip and cut her. 

Still, she pressed her thighs together, rubbing and seeking the friction for which she yearned. Tyelko had not touched her skin yet, but the hint of danger and the promise of things to come had her dripping and needy already. 

“By the stars!” she cried as Tyelko stripped her bare. Her skin prickled in the night air, and her nipples hardened painfully, and she almost growled as she added, “So impatient you are! Fuck…Tyelko!” Her act dropped the moment that her clever bedmate stuck his forefinger and middle finger into her slick cunt and dragged his thumb over her swollen clitoris. 

He chuckled deeply.

“Not so prim and proper, are we now, Írissë?” Tyelko asked as he rested the flat of the blade between her breasts and shoved his fingers up inside of her until he could stroke the most sensitive part of her quim. His hand made her hot, and the blade chilled her skin, and she could not decide which aroused her more. 

“I am beginning to suspect that you are not a maiden,” he added as he circled her pearl and scissored his fingers inside her cunt. 

Írissë’s thighs trembled, but her voice was steady, if husky, as she said, “That has never stopped you before, Tyelko.” 

“Nay,” he agreed. He pulled his fingers out of her, making her growl. 

“Patience, Rissi,” he chided as he shoved his leggings down one-handed and dragged the blade down until it passed over her navel. He let the tip prick her there, and Írissë gasped and lurched at the little bite of pain and the sight of the little drop of blood. 

Then Tyelko threw the blade to the side, far from the bed, and leaned down and licked her navel clean. His eyes glinted ferally as he looked up at her. Írissë realized hazily that she was already shaking as he pinched her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it. His talented tongue, which so often drove her to orgasms so intense that she was rendered senseless for minutes after, flicked over his blood-reddened lips, and Írissë fell over the edge with a thundering clap before he even thrust inside of her. 

She was still quivering inside and out when he yanked her by her thighs and sheathed himself inside of her. He was rough, but she was sopping wet and open for him besides. 

“Fucking finally!” she crowed as she wrapped her legs around his strong waist, her thighs resting on the slight curve of his hips, and she reached up and tangled her fingers in his silver hair. 

She pulled him down for a bruising kiss, and he met her halfway. Her heels dug into his lower back as she urged him to fuck her faster and harder. Each thrust left her reeling and aching in the most delicious way imaginable, and she bared her teeth at him and snapped when he pulled back from the kiss. 

She clawed his back, and he buried his face shamelessly between her teats, licking and kissing them until she grabbed his head and forced him to take a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it and then nipped, and that feeling, combined with his skilled thrusting, sent her crashing over the edge again. 

“Fuck, Rissi, your cunt feels so tight coming around my cock,” he rasped.

“Then keep making it happen, Tyelko,” she ordered.

“As herinya commands,” he purred as he grabbed her wrists with bruising force, pinned them beside her head, and did as she bade. 

***

Findekáno’s sheets were a ruin of sweat, blood, seed, and fluid by the time that they had finished their first fuck of the night, and both Tyelko and Írissë collapsed laughing and shaking beside one another, heedless of the mess.

“Finno has a good bath,” she told him. “‘Tis more of a pool than a tub, so it might feel almost as exciting as fucking in a stream.” 

That was mostly a diversion on her part. She intended to get the blade and make him use his tongue on her until she climaxed as many times as she wanted. Or perhaps she would mount him and keep her hand on his throat so that he would feel as though he were truly suffering a little death when he spent inside of her. 

Tyelko’s next words interrupted her happy train of thought. 

“How did you convince sweet Finno to vacate his rooms for the night?“ he asked. 

“He wanted to sneak away from his begetting day celebration, and he needed someone to pretend that he was sick and that I was helping him to his rooms and tending to him here. I agreed when he asked me, and the price was two sets of keys to his rooms,” she replied, shaking her head as she thought of how silly her brother had looked in the stables earlier. 

Tyelko rolled his eyes dramatically and scoffed.

“He truly could not wait until the end of the night to drag Nelyo off into the woods and fuck him? My fool of a háno would have waited and done it whenever. Anything for precious Finno—ai, I mean Kánya—on his two-hundredth begetting day.”

Írissë groaned as she contemplated their respective brothers’ carelessness. 

“Dare I ask how you know what Russandol calls Finno during the act?” She had caught them in the woods for the first time when Arakáno was still a babe in arms, and that was when she had learned that Finno liked to call his lover Maitinya while he urged the copper-haired nér to suck his prick. 

“You mean when he begs ‘Kánya’ to fuck him harder?” 

Írissë grimaced and nodded. She really could not decide which of their endearments was most sickening. 

Tyelko shrugged and answered her at last. “They have not done it in decades, but I used to occasionally come upon them rutting in the woods. Then there was one time that I heard them in the forge, and…” His voice trailed off as he shuddered visibly. “I do not know how they imagined that I would never have come across them while hunting. Truly, I am convinced that I am the sole reason that no one else has discovered them.”

“I must claim some credit there. You have no idea how many times I have had to stop Turvo and Arvo from trying to follow Finno to keep him company when he is going to meet Maitimo or how often I have to pretend to one roquen or another that Finno takes his horse out of the stables early some mornings because he has important business somewhere.”

Tyelko snorted. 

“At least Nelyo gets bombarded with tasks often enough that not even Káno ever finds it odd that he shuts himself in his rooms or goes off riding somewhere so often. How in all of Aman have you convinced your people that Findekáno is dedicated enough to business to rise before Laurelin?”

“I have not managed it so well,” she admitted without reservation. ‘Twas not her fault that Finno was incapable of true discretion. “The blind fools all assume that he has a nís somewhere—some unsuitable wendë with whom he’s madly in love—and Maitimo is helping him hide her.”

Tyelko collapsed into the sheets and laughed so hard that she feared that he would crack his ribs from clutching too fiercely at his sides. 

“How have they never noticed how Finno stares at him? I swear, you would think that he was a stallion who just smelt a mare in heat.”

“Oh no, ‘tis worse than that now,” Írissë said with a conspiratorial grin. Evidently, Tyelko had not noticed how plainly, disgustingly romantic Finno’s desires had lately become. 

“How so?” Tyelko asked, sounding skeptical.

“Well, when he won the tournament yesterday—don’t scoff, he wins even when it isn’t his begetting day—and it came time for him to choose a Queen of Love and Beauty, I swear that he spent half an age staring at that damned flower crown. He kept looking everywhere except where Maitimo was sitting, but then, when he gave it to Nerwen out of courtesy, I could see him casting sideways glances at Russandol.”

Tyelko began to laugh even harder, if that were possible. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and the bed vibrated as his mirth repeatedly jerked his body. 

“Yavanna’s…teats! We are…ai…blessed…blessed, I tell you…that that…ai…did not occur.” 

His laugher slowly subsided, and he added, in a steadier voice, “Far too many Eldar tell him that he is handsome and special. Ever since Amya named him Maitimo, he has had an excessive amount of confidence in his looks and how they affect the Eldar. And I must say, Írissë, your sweet háno….Fuck! When did you…”

His voice tightened, dropped in pitch, and then trailed off entirely as Írissë pressed his discarded blade against his long neck. 

“When you were distracted, Tyelko. Now it is time for me to ravish you,” she declared as she straddled his hips. 

Tyelko’s eyes widened, and he gulped visibly, making the flat of the blade rise and fall against his throat. 

Írissë licked her lips and grinned like the cat who had swallowed the canary. 

Notes:

So, how did you all like this change of pace? I must thank starlightwalking for suggesting this outtake. I quite enjoyed writing Írissue and Tyelko taking turns pretending to be heroines in a bodice-ripper and ragging on their disaster gay brothers in between rounds.

Chapter 12: You’ve Gotta Stay Hungry

Summary:

Írissë and Tyelko continue their fun, sexy romp in Finno’s rooms while he’s off having a fun, sexy romp with Maitimo for his 200th birthday. This time, Írissë tops all the way…until she doesn’t.

Notes:

Once again, I’m cribbing from Bruce Springsteen lyrics for the title. This one’s from “Dancing in the Dark.”

Also, I want to thank starlightwalking for their work, which very much inspired my take on the Aretyel dynamic in this series.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Years ago, when Tyelkormo had first lured her to the woods and seduced there, Írissë would have struggled to hold him down, even with his blade in her hand and his arousal clouding his mind and slowing his reflexes. However, she had almost three decades of experience grappling with her fearsomely strong bedmate, and she had grown far stronger too, for she had long ridden on the hunts with him. She had even, on more than one occasion, even followed him on his strange, terrifying rides in Oromë’s train when they rode deep into the Pélori Mountains and slew corrupted beasts that sloughed out of Avathar.

Furthermore, Írissë was over one-hundred years old and had grown fierce and powerful in her own right. So, even as her desire pulsed between her thighs and dripped from her core, she got the better of her half-cousin and bound him so tightly to her brother’s ridiculously ornate bed so that he was left entirely at her mercy.

She allowed herself only a few short moments to admire her handiwork, but what glorious moments those were! She had caught him by the wrists and ankles, causing his thick calves and forearms to strain delectably against his bonds. That sight made her mouth water and her fingertips itch to trace every curve and muscle of his mighty hröa. But that would have to wait, for she had much more delightful plans laid out.

To keep him well and truly tied, she had even placed a rope over his neck. It was not tight enough to choke him, unless he struggled overmuch, but if he did…

Well, we both like him breathless, she thought with a wild, wicked grin. She did not stop herself from running her left forefinger over the column of his throat, nor did she resist the urge to lean down and nip at it as she slipped a finger through the tie that held him fast and tugged ever so slightly. He gasped and strained, and Írissë’s thighs clenched in heady anticipation. The sights and sounds had her feeling almost as desperate for air as he was, so she moved quickly. She knew that if she tarried too long, he would grow bored and claim her again.

Not that that would be entirely unwelcome…and yet…

“I think,” she purred as she straddled his chest and ran the tip of his knife along the horns that topped his rounded pectorals, “that you may have underestimated me, fair onóro. You rather seem to have mistaken me for a helpless wendë.”

“Oh, doubtless,” Tyelko agreed. He grinned back at her with equal ferocity. His light gray eyes were turned tumultuous with lust, and not a hint of fear darkened them. Írissë laughed huskily and moved away from him.

“Do not rest easy while I am gone from your side,” she warned as she went to get one of her favorite aids. “I intend to have vengeance for my lost maidenhead.”

To explain her point further, she held up the double-sided phallus that she had bought on one of her trips to Alqualondë with Nerwen.

He licked his lips and still refused to show her fear, but that was all well, for now she was aching to take him and fuck herself while she plundered his fine, deliciously sculpted arse.

***
Írissë was sopping wet from the lingering feel of his mouth on her cunt, lapping at her pearl; from the tight squeeze of his hole around her fingers; and the wide stretch of her end of the cock inside her.

But the bulk of the arousal building within her belly came from the sight of Tyelko lying beneath her, straining and arching to meet her first, slow, but deliberate press into him. She had undone his ankle bonds as soon as she had stretched him to her satisfaction, and she was using the bulk of her considerable strength to keep his legs bent back until his strong, shaking thighs were pressed against his chest, and his arse was elevated enough for a proper fucking.

“I would say,” she managed to moan as she dug her nails Into the back of his thighs, “that it is a crying shame that we do not have another nér here to fuck your while you fill my cunt up again, but…” She paused halfway in and grabbed his thick, throbbing erection at the base and stroked it roughly. He rewarded her with a low, decadent moan that shot straight to her quivering core, and she laughed throatily.

“But I think that I like to have you all to myself and I think,” she added as she sheathed her fake cock inside of him and moved her hand from his girthy erection to his even broader leg, “that you prefer it this way.” He grunted and ground his hips against her until his stones rubbed against her arse and he forced her end of the toy so deep inside of her that she screamed.

“Ai! No!” she cried as she trembled on the brink of her orgasm. “No, no, no, you are at my mercy now, and I swear to be less careful than any nér who has ever taken you here. I will strive to be even less careful than you are when you take them.”

Tyelko responded by slamming back against her so hard that the ropes caught him by the throat and made him pant so deliciously that Írissë fell over the edge faster than she anticipated, trembling and thrusting against him and around the thing inside of her until the last vestiges of her climax faded, and she found her limbs shaking madly as she stared down him.

“Tell me, Tyelko,” she said, ignoring the tender, overstimulated feeling that made her whine and clench every time that she bucked against his arse and felt the toy rub cruelly, tauntingly against her clitoris. “Do you think that all of your hánor enjoy this so much? Do you think that Ñandellien and Valdawen and even Angainiel do this for their verur? Or is it just you? Are you just specially debauched and deprived?”

Tyelko trembled dangerously beneath her. His shoulders flexed under her scorching gaze, and the snakelike tattoos around his arms seemed to move in the reddish gold lamplight as he fought his bonds and slowly but surely succumbed to them.

Within minutes, he was lying limply beneath her. She could see the drops of sweat sliding down his chest. She could feel the perspiration gathering beneath his knees and down his stones. She felt that she could focus on nothing else besides the stricken, open-mouthed gaze that he gave her as he fought the urge to beg her.

Írissë would have insisted on a more complete surrender had every brutal thrust inside of him had not pushed the toy deep inside of her at just the right angle to make her see stars behind her eyes and had he not been moaning so deeply and needily.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she swore as she gripped his legs. She could feel her second climax building deep inside of her, and she could feel his coming too. She could not quite feel the tight squeeze of his arse around her toy, but by all of the Valar on Taniqetal, she could see it. She could see her strong, gorgeous, dangerous half-cousin—the one who was divinely touched and more than half wild—trembling like a wendë in some salacious Falmarin novel beneath her, and she could see how his tender, stuffed little hole fluttered around her. Through all of that, he somehow still managed to drive her mad, angling his hips so that the toy rubbed against her pearl and her singing spot.

She was panting. He was panting. Her core was clenching, and his abdominals were tightening dangerously. His thighs quivered, and the walls of her cunt trembled until, at last, she took mercy on them both and took his cock and her clit in hand, stroking them both furiously until they orgasmed together with a blinding crash.
***
“Do you think,” Tyelko asked once he had her ankles and knees tied to her wrists and elbows and his face buried between her thighs, “that you will have these sheets cleaned? Or should we leave a surprise for your dear háno?”

Írissë howled in frustration and cursed every Maia in Oromë’s train that she was trussed up like a slain doe and entirely unable to make Tyelko put his tongue back in between her folds.

“This is the third time that you have brought me to the edge and denied me to ask me some stupid question about my stupid háno,” she wailed.

Tyelko laughed and bent down. Írissë trembled in sweet anticipation and then screamed again when he only sucked one of her lower lips in between his. Worse still, he tested her all the more cruelly, baring his teeth just enough to bring her close and deny her again.

“Really, Írissë,” he said amiably as he lifted his head again. She was sobbing and ready to do anything that he asked when he continued.

“I just want a few answers. Do you intend to be kind to Finno for giving you his rooms, or do you intend to punish him for being such an infatuated fool over Nelyo? I could make compelling arguments for pursuing both courses of action. Which do you think he deserves more?”

“Either! Whichever makes you let me go faster!” she insisted. She knew that the mentions of her brother and his lover should have dampened her arousal, but Tyelko had riled her up so thoroughly that his words hardly constituted a drop of water on the raging fire within her.

“Ai! Írissë, your indecisiveness disappoints me,” he said, his eyes glinting dangerously as he rose up onto his haunches and stared down her denied, overstimulated form.

“Fuck you, Tyelko!” she swore.

“Already done, and it is not your turn to do the fucking,” he said. Before she could protest, he claimed her mouth in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. She could taste her own juices on his lips and his tongue, and she moaned angrily as she tried and failed to get any of the stimulation that she needed so badly.

***
When Tyelko finally deigned to stop edging her, the orgasm that he gave her was so mind-numbing and earth-shattering that she ended up lying on the bed, boneless and trembling and entirely unable to withstand one more second of pleasure. She was so overcome that even after he untied her, she offered no resistance when he straddled her torso and stroked himself off until he spilled onto her tongue.

Then, once he was quite certain that she was well and truly satisfied, he snuck out of her brother’s chambers and her father’s mansion, leaving her to fall asleep.

***

By the time Írissë awoke, she was so grateful for Finno’s boon to her that she strippped his bed and sent his linens to the laundry herself. Blessedly, the wendë in charge of the cleaning was one of Írissë’s closest companions and asked no questions when Írissë showed up dressed in a pair of her brother’s leggings and one of his tunics to wash his sheets.

It was only several hours later, when a glowering Finno greeted her as she was remaking his bed, that she remembered that she had forgotten to let him back into his wing of the mansion through his private entrance.

Notes:

So, what did you all think? I hope that you enjoyed it! Next up, we’ve either got spanking or tender sex, depending on which one I want to write more.

Chapter 13: Once Bitten: Twice Shy (Or: A Chronicle of Maedhros Getting Spanked)

Summary:

And here we’ve just got two different spanking scenes executed in very different ways: one from early in their relationship and one when they’re more attuned to the other’s wants, needs, and boundaries.

Notes:

The first scene takes place midway through chapter seven of Mad Season, about a year after Findekáno and Maitimo have anal sex for the first time. The second one takes place midway through chapter nine of Mad Season, between Maitimo’s confrontation with Melkor and the mirror sex between Maitimo and Finno.

The first scene also takes place after chapters 1, 2, and 5 of this fic, but before chapters 3 and 4. The second scene takes place after chapters 8 and 9.

Rough chronological order so far:
1) chapter 1 (1365 Y.T.)
2) chapter 2 (between 1365 and 1374)
3) chapter 5 (ditto)
4) chapter 13, scene 1 (1376)
5) chapters 3 and 4 (1401)
6) chapters 6 and 7 (between 1410 and 1415)
7) chapters 8 and 9 (1419)
8) chapter 13, scene 2 (1422)
9) chapter 10 (between 1460 and 1465)
11) chapters 11 and 12 (1465)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Scene 1: 1376 Y.T.

It was not until after Maitimo and Findekáno had finished setting up their camp that Maitimo finally found the courage to ask for what he desired from his lover. Finno sat down on a log and stretched so that the muscles of his shoulders rippled visibly under his shirt. His fingers flexed, and his forearms seemed to bulge, and Maitimo gulped, his eyes widening. 

Finno’s eyes found his, and the look that he gave Maitimo was so heated that he thought, I must ask him now. He will give me whatever it is that I desire. 

“Could I persuade you to come over here, Maitinya?” his lover asked. His voice seemed to drop half a register, and his pupils were so blown so wide with lust that his normally soft gray eyes appeared hard and black. 

Maitimo’s breath caught in his throat, and he went. His legs seemed to move of their own accord, and before he knew it, he had draped his long hröa over Finno’s widespread thighs. 

“Oh…” he heard Finno gasp. His voice seemed to crack around that single word, so Maitimo knew that he had guessed what his copper-haired meldo wanted from him. 

“I want you to take me over my knee again, Kánya,” he began. Before his lover could ask further questions, he added, “You strike me often enough when you take me, and I know that we both take pleasure in it. I want to try it this way again. I think…nay, I know that I am ready for this. And I crave it so deeply.” 

And he did. His cock was stirring within his leggings already, and his heart was racing. He rubbed his groin wantonly against Finno’s thigh and let a whining moan escape from his throat to show his lover just how much he wanted this. 

“Oh…” Finno repeated. His was raspy and hitching with lust, and it made Maitimo’s belly burn with need. “I will. I shall. Immediately. Just…tell me if you need me to strike harder or less harshly or to stop. And…you remember our word?” 

“Námo,” Maitimo murmured. His cheeks and his ears were terribly heated, but the feeling of anticipation burned even hotter than his shame. 

“Well then…” Finno began as he grabbed a handful of Maitimo’s arse and dug his fingers into it with so much possessive intensity that Maitimo pressed his hips back into his hand. “Get up, and push your leggings down. Then get over my lap, and let us see just how much you can take.”

Maitimo was quite certain that he was already fully hard by the time he had obeyed Finno’s intoxicating demands. 

His lover’s thighs were hard, thick, and unyielding beneath him, but they were spread too wide for Maitimo to be able to rut against them. He quickly found that he did not care. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest, and his breathing quickened before Finno even touched his backside. 

Indeed, in spite of his meldo’s promises to see how much Maitimo could take, Finno seemed quite content to take his time. His right hand, his stronger hand, trailed instead through Maitimo’s hair. First, he caressed Maitimo’s tresses and practically purred out words about how silky they was and how good Maitimo had been to leave his hair mostly loose for him. Then he grabbed a handful of it until Maitimo’s eyes water and his hips jerked needily. 

“Kánya…” he pleaded, feeling breathless. 

Finno released his hold on Maitimo’s hair and trailed his hand down Maitimo’s back until it reached his buttocks.

“Finno…” Maitimo tried this time. His voice cracked, and he found himself panting and throbbing with anticipation. 

But Findekáno only caressed him, running his fingers over Maitimo’s arse. His touch was hot, but Maitimo’s uncovered skin only felt colder in contrast. He felt more naked than he would have had been fully unclothed. There was something so obscene and shameful about lying across Finno’s legs, having the part of his hröa that his lover claimed to enjoy the most bared for a beating for which he had begged. His face felt hot, and he was sure that he was flushed crimson, and that knowledge only deepened his arousal and made his need greater. 

I think that I like when you humiliate me, he almost said. 

But Finno spoke first, his voice full of undisguised adoration as he said, “I love how pale you are. ‘Tis so easy to mark you and make you red. And your freckles…did you know that you have them here too?” 

Maitimo knew that he did not need to answer when Finno praised him, but when his lover’s exploratory fingers slipped into his cleft and teased the deliciously sensitive skin around his entrance, he choked out the word, “Yes!” He had wanted Finno to spank him, but in that moment, he would have been content to let his lover do whatever he wanted, as long as he kept touching him and probing him. 

Finno let out a shocked, delighted laugh, and muttered something that sounded like, “Gorgeous!” 

The first slap fell without warning, and Maitimo moaned wantonly as the first jolt of pleasure shot up his spine and went straight to his cock. He felt hot and cold at once. The strike had sensitized his skin all the more and grounded his mind and left him unable to focus on anything but his own pleasure. 

Ai! Already pinkening up nicely,” Finno murmured. He caressed the cheek that he had just struck, and Maitimo moaned again, arching into his lover’s touch.

“More,” he pleaded. 

Finno obliged him, striking him thrice more on the same spot until the skin burned, and Maitimo was keening and leaning into it. 

“More, harder, please,” he begged. He did not even have to think about the words. He just knew that they were right. He felt Finno’s lips press a tender kiss to the nape of his neck before the blows began anew. 

Maitimo soon found himself going limp in Finno’s lap, unable to do anything but buck his hips and arch his back and beg. 

“So good…so good…oh! Not too much, no, no, keep going…I need more…more…harder, oh, just like that, please….Kánya!” 

All the while, he could hear Finno’s voice, unbearably deep and throaty, cutting through his pleas and adding to the haze of ecstasy that suffused his entire hröa.

“So beautiful. You are so lovely, Russandol. You bruise so prettily for me. Do you know that? Will you even be able to sit a horse tomorrow? Do you think that you will get half-hard again if you try? Will you be unable to think about anything except this, about how it feels when I strike you with the flat of my hand? I know that I shall think of nothing else when I look at you–I will be consumed with lust tomorrow watching you wince when you sit or move, and I am sure that I will be unable to resist the urge to drag you down into the dirt and fuck your sore, needy little arse!”

Maitimo flushed and shook and writhed at those last words. He could feel his cock dripping nomílt. His loins felt unbearably tight and ready, and he knew…he feared…he hoped….

“Too much?” he heard Finno asked. 

“No…just need…a little….” His words died in his throat and turned into a howl that made him tremble as Finno struck him once more with as-yet unused force. His vision went white, and his eyes clenched shut, and his mouth fell open as he came apart over his meldo’s lap, his cock completely untouched. 

He was still shaking as Finno gently lowered him to the ground, his climax still vibrating through him.

“Maitinya…you…” he heard his lover rasping out his favorite endearment above him, and he was distantly aware of the sound of Finno jerking his own cock.

“Oh…” he thought, his poor, spent prick jerking just a little at the idea. Then he felt something hot and wet land on his arse, and he slumped into the dirt with a satisfied little sob. 

Scene 2: 1422 Y.T. 

“What would you do,” Maitimo breathed into Findekáno’s ear the night before the summer festival, “if tomorrow, I dressed to tease and tempt you shamelessly?” His nails raked over his lover’s strong chest, and he tugged teasingly at one of Finno’s nipples as he sucked roughly on his earlobe. 

Finno responded by slapping him so hard across the arse that his breath left him, and his cock lurched needily against his lover’s flat stomach. 

“You know what I would do,” Finno growled. “Now, be good and suck my cock. We don’t want you to be unable to sit down properly at the festival.” 

For a long moment, Maitimo considered how much more thoroughly he would rile Finno up if he had to make excuses to remain standing the entire time and if Finno were unable to look at him without knowing that his arse was still bruised from the night before, but he quickly thought better of it. 

Besides, he thought as he ran the flat of his tongue along Finno’s shaft and sucked his cockhead roughly, the delayed gratification will make it all the sweeter. 

***

Nothing in all of Aman could have prepared Maitimo for the sight that greeted him once he was back in his locked, sealed-off rooms. Finno had entered before him. So it was that Maitimo saw his strong, dark-haired lover sitting on his couch. His thick arms were draped over the back of the lounge, and his thighs were spread wide, and his hips were thrust forward so that Maitimo had no choice but to look at the massive bulge in his thin, summer leggings. 

Maitimo had worn neither shirt nor leggings under his flimsy purple summer robes, and he had left his sash just a little loose so that every time he moved, Finno could catch a glimpse of his bare thighs. True, other guests had worn as little or even less, for they were in the hottest phase of the year, but Finno had had only eyes for Maitimo, and Maitimo had been aware of no other gaze on him. 

Finno’s own robe was gone, and his thin, sleeveless, tied shirt was opened at the waist. The sight of that bare, golden brown skin and the rippling muscles beneath made Maitimo’s mouth water, and he almost protested that Finno had been at least as flagrant a tease as he had been. But the stern, angry, lustful look in his meldo’s eyes stopped him. 

Maitimo’s head spun as he meet Finno’s eyes. His blood flowed downard, and his knees almost buckled. 

“Kánya,” he said huskily. 

Finno snorted mirthlessly and scoffed at him.

“You,” he growled, “are a tease, and you look like a slut. Do you know how many eyes you drew? How many nissi were practically drooling over your strong chest and your broad shoulders and the way that your hair caught the light? And did you know that I had to hear it all?” 

Had this not been a game, Maitimo might have laughed at Finno and mocked his jealousy, reminding Finno of how often he basked in the adoration of the nissi of Tirion at jousts and tourneys and feasts. Maitimo might have also climbed into his meldo’s lap and added, “Besides, you know that, unlike you, I have never yearned for nissi.” 

But Finno’s gaze was dark and sultry. Maitimo instead dropped his eyes apologetically and peaked up at his lover through his coppery lashes. 

“And worse! I had to watch a few néri sneaking sideways glances at you and looking lustfully at your legs and clearly hoping to see the curve of your arse. The Falmari delegates were the worst!” he continued. His tone was low and menacing, and it heated Maitimo’s blood and brought him more than halfway to full hardness. 

“You know that you are the only one who gets to have my arse–the only who ever has,” he murmured, feigning contrition. 

Finno’s full, reddish lips curved into a smug smile, but his gaze remained ominous as he said, “Is that so? Well then, why don’t you show me? Strip!” 

“Fast, or do you want a show?” Maitimo asked, keeping himself meek. He stayed standing, for he had not yet been ordered to kneel. 

“Fast, for you have teased me quite enough,” Finno snapped. 

Maitimo’s heart pounded wildly as he undid his sash and his robe down his shoulders. It was hot, even within the shelter of his room, but his skin still prickled as he felt Finno’s heated gaze raking over his hröa

‘Tis almost as good as being touched, Maitimo thought. Desire coiled in the pit of his stomach as he undid the strings holding together his loincloth and let it fall to the floor. His cock sprung free, and he flushed deeply.

Ai, my needy slut does like being on display,” Finno growled. There was a note of approval in his voice that made Maitimo shiver in delight even as his face heated more and he hung his head in a show of shame. His eyes remained fixed on Finno’s face though, which seemed to grow more implacable and more beautiful by the minute.

“Go be a good plaything and fetch your brush,” Finno ordered. Maitimo groaned at the sounds of those words. He was fully erect now, and he felt as though he might faint now that he understood what his punishment was to be. 

Still, he asked, “The brush?” He knew what it was for, but he wanted to hear Finno finish his order.

“I intend to teach you manners, and I fear that I will not be able to do that if my hand gets sore too quickly from striking you.” 

Maitimo gasped and nodded. 

“Aye, Kánya, right away,” he said breathlessly. 

***

His punishment was even crueler and more delightful than he had imagined. Finno had evidently found one of his false phalluses, the wooden one that Maitimo had purchased before all of the others, and he made Maitimo suck it and slick it with spit. All the while, Finno’s fingers worked Maitimo’s arse opened before he shoved the wooden cock into him abruptly. 

Maitimo gasped, the pain only temporarily eclipsing his pleasure. The wooden implement was the smallest of his toys, but it still hurt to have it thrust into him so quickly and with little oil to ease the way. 

His pleasure returned in full force when the thick tip nudged his sweet spot. His toes curled, and his stomach clenched. Then Finno shoved his face down into the cushion of the couch and struck him across the arse so hard that everything else clenched too. The strike had made him tighten his hole, and the motion seemed to pull the phallus deeper inside of him and pressed it harder against the bundle of nerves buried there. 

Maitimo thrust his hips down, trying desperately to rut against the cushion, but Finno’s strong thigh caught him and held him back. 

“Kánya,” he breathed, tears already brimming in his eyes. The strike had been sharp and hard, and its impact had shaken him, and he wanted more. 

Finno laughed harshly and struck him again and again. The blows landed on each cheek, on the backs of his thighs, on the underside of his arse where it met his legs. The brush was sharper than Finno’s palm, and the pain radiated out further. Each strike made him clench and cry out. Soon, his arse was burning inside and out, and he was weeping and begging piteously. 

His mouth could not seem to decide whether he wanted to beg Finno to stop or to keep going. He only knew that he needed it to go on and on as long as possible, for he never uttered their word. 

Insead, he drank in the sounds of Finno’s words, which were almost as cruel and as sweet as those strikes. 

Indeed, Maitimo nearly came undone when Finno mockingly suggested, “Perhaps next time, I should dress you in the colors of my house and send you out there with this toy–oh no, one of the bigger ones–-inside of you, so that you remember whose you are and the rest of them can see that you are not available for the taking.” 

Yes, yes, that, all of that, I want to yours. I need to be yours, he thought, even as he writhed and wept in his lover’s lap. His face was buried in the wet cushion, and his legs were pinned so he could not buck and find the friction that his cock so desperately needed, but his hole was stimulated almost beyond bearing, and with Finno’s words flowing in his ears, he was sure that he would spend. 

(He was also sure that he could wait forever, as long as it was Finno holding him and beating him and claiming ownership of him. His heart was already so full with pleasure and yearning at the thought that his climax almost seemed secondary. Almost.)

“Kánya, please…mercy…I shall do whatever you desire…just….” 

He did not know what exactly it was that he needed, but Finno evidently did, for he whispered, his voice low and deadly, “Or perhaps, I shall not need to. Perhaps it will be enough if you just remember this lesson every time you fix and dress your hair.” The next blow landed squarely between his cheeks, forcing the toy deeper inside of him so that it slammed against his sweet spot. 

Maitimo orgasmed so intensely that he was sure that he lost consciousness for a moment or two. 

***

When Maitimo’s vision sharpened again, all that he could see was smooth, light brown skin, and all that he could feel were Finno’s strong arms holding him tightly. It took him only a moment to realize that his lover had drawn him into his lap and was cradling him against his chest. 

“Maitinya, you were wonderful,” he heard Finno murmur reverently. “I nearly came apart just watching you.”

It was only then that Maitimo realized that his lover’s cock was still hard and was, in fact, poking him in the hip.

“Oh…Finno…would you like to…” He was still too lost in the haze of his release to determine how he should reward Finno for fulfilling so many of his fantasies at once. Blessedly, Finno relieved him of the need to do so.
“In a bit. Why do you not let me take you to your bath and wash you? I can open you up more carefully and take you there, if that would not be too much?” 

Maitimo’s lips curled into a contented smile as he nodded into his lover’s chest. 

“Not at all. I would love that.” 

And I love you. 

Notes:

Well, we’re back to Russingon smut. Next up, would you guys prefer to see nipple play and talk of piercings, tender comfort sex, or negotiations for a CNC scene? Alternatively, do you have POV preferences for any of those scenes? I intend to write all three.

Chapter 14: Anything to Keep You

Summary:

1475 Y.T.: Findekáno reaches his 210th begetting day. Maitimo helps him cope with the family pressures.

Notes:

This takes place during chapter 14 of Mad Season, one tree year after Maitimo and Findekáno hooked up on Tol Eressëa. (I edited that chapter to reflect that that happened in 1474 Y.T.)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Findekáno knew that he was acting foul and that he was wrong to do it. It was his two-hundred-tenth begetting day. He had successfully bargained for a break from his duties as Ñolofinwë’s heir, and none had raised objections to his expressed wish to go on a week-long hunting excursion with his dearest friend and kinsman. 

Better still, that friend—that lover—was with him in his hunting lodge. Indeed, Maitimo settled behind Finno on his bed and used those long, clever fingers to alleviate the tension in Finno’s shoulders and back. 

Still, Finno’s thoughts kept straying back to the conversation that he had had with his father the day before. He simply could not make himself relax and enjoy his massage. 

Meldonya, what ails you? What did your atar say?” Maitimo asked. His voice was tender and his touch gentle as he brushed Finno’s braids aside and pressed a soft kiss against his neck. 

“Were my thoughts that loud?” Finno grumbled. 

“Aye,” Maitimo murmured as he snaked his arms around Finno’s waist. “I cannot help but catch some of them when we are this close and you are this distressed.”

Finno sighed deeply and sank back against the comforting warmth of Maitimo’s firm chest. 

“He saw me playing with Itarillë and told me that I would make a good atar, and then he offered to arrange a marriage for me if I was having trouble finding a nis to produce a child with,” he explained. He could already tell that it was unnecessary. He could feel his thoughts flowing out of his own mind and sending the necessary traces of his memories into Maitimo’s mind. 

With the connection between them as open as it was, Finno could feel hints of sadness and guilt seeping off of his lover. 

“Don’t you dare!” he hissed at Maitimo. He knew that he should have been moved to pity, but the memory of how Maitimo had last reacted when the topic of Finno marrying and having children had last come up left him reeling with indignation. 

His lover tensed behind him but did not let him go. If anything, Maitimo only held him more tightly.

“Good, keep holding me,” he commanded. “Stop being so eager to offer me leave to go marry some nis.”

“Kánya, I am not eager to…”

 “It is as I told my Atar. I will not wed one that I do not love, and I will not give you up!” Finno snapped. He knew that he was being unjustly harsh with Maitimo, and he knew that he was picking at an open wound between them—Maitimo’s old confession of love that Finno had not returned in words—but he was still seething with rage. The feeling was boiling hot within him, and he hated it, but he could not stem the tide, not after the waves had already broken. 

His voice shook dangerously, and his hands balled into fists as he added, “I do not want you to sacrifice yourself in some misguided quest to make me happy! I will not allow it.” 

Yet again, Maitimo responded to Finno’s temper with pity and tenderness. 

“Kánya, you know that I do not want that,” Maitimo whispered into his ear. That deep voice doused the fire that burned within Finno. When Maitimo stroked his chest and his side’s soothingly, Finno felt guilty tears pricking at his eyes. 

“I know, I know, I just…” I was wrong. So wrong. You do not deserve my anger, not when I know…I am so sorry.

“Hush, no need to explain.” Maitimo took hold of Finno’s chin, turning and tilting his face until their lips brushed together. 

Finno’s eyes slid shut, and his posture and mood softened at the feeling of his lover’s sweet, full mouth. 

You are too good to me, Maitinya, he swore through oswanë

In reply, Maitimo slipped his skilled tongue between Finno’s lips and told him, No more than you deserve—though I can do better. 

I know… 

Finno shuddered deeply as Maitimo’s hands slid to his thighs, and he brushed their tongues together. 

Oh, I know… 

His foul mood vanished entirely, and a new, much sweeter heat burned within his loins. 

***

Ai, Russanya, you were not lying,” he groaned as he sank deep within the heat of the bath. 

“I never lie to you, Kánya,” Maitimo purred decadently as he massaged Finno’s scalp, working a lavender-scented lather into his loose, dark locks. “And I will never pass up an opportunity to get my hands in your unbound hair.”

“Why, Russo, you surprise me! Do you not enjoy the sight of your gold wires woven into my plaits?” Finno teased. He flexed his fingers and toes and stretched his legs in the water as a shiver of anticipation raced up his spine. 

The last two times that Maitimo had undone Finno’s braids, his lover had indulged one of his most passionate fantasies. 

A spark leapt between them, and Maitimo’s left hand strayed from Finno’s hair and moved down his hröa. Finno’s eyes opened halfway as he watched pale fingers trace over his light brown skin. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and a low moan escaped his lips when Maitimo’s fingers took hold of one of his nipples. 

“You…” he moaned as his lover pinched the nub teasingly. That simple touch sent waves of desire coursing through his veins and blood rushing to his cock.  

“I love how responsive you are here.” Maitimo’s hot breath warmed Finno’s neck, and his tone turned dangerous as he added, “Look at how you are rising for me just from this.”

“You are a terrible tease,” Finno growled, but he made no move to make Maitimo touch his growing arousal. 

“Hush, you love it,” Maitimo whispered. “Besides…I unbound your hair to increase the intimacy between us. I thought that you would take great comfort from that tonight.”

Finno made no effort to bite back the moan of anticipation that tore itself from his throat at those words nor to conceal how his cock filled the rest of the way at the thought. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, concern only interfering with his arousal a little. 

Maitimo’s face dropped onto Finno’s shoulder, and a deep, aching need to fulfill and be filled flowed between their minds. 

Finno’s eyes slid shut, and lewd, wanton noises issued from his throat as Maitimo grasped his erection by the base and began to stroke it. 

“When it gets you this relaxed and this passionate? Aye,” came his lover’s breathy reply. 

***

“Stars, Maitinya!” Findekáno moaned as he slid his forefinger in between the cleft of his lover’s arse. “I love feeling the heat of you.” 

Finno drank in the sound of Maitimo’s soft cries of pleasure, and his eyes raked over his bedmate’s hröa without shame. Even after over a century of lust, Finno’s entire being still surged towards the sight of Maitimo lying on his back, dark red hair loose and mussed, cheeks flushed, plump lips parted, and long legs splayed and pulled back as he held himself open for the taking. Indeed, Finno felt certain that he would never tire of the sight of his fingers disappearing into his lover’s tight entrance or the feeling of being sucked in.

“I swear, I will lose myself in you one day,” Finno murmured reverently. His eyes settled on Maitimo’s flat stomach, and he ran a hand over it possessively, hopefully. His fingertips traced the lines of well-honed muscles and tingled at the feeling of his lover’s muscles tightening in arousal. 

“Perhaps, this time, I shall leave something of myself behind in you,” Finno added as his hand drifted over the curve of Maitimo’s stomach. His cock strained at the idea of his lover’s hröa swelling for him, full of the proof of the rightness of their connection. “Perhaps, I shall take you when you are fertile and ready for me, and then leave your lovely belly soft and swollen with my babe.” His fingers trailed upward, tingling as they moved over Maitimo’s firm, well-shaped pectorals, and as he pinched a tantalizing pink nipple between thumb and forefinger, he added, “Make you fill up here until I can milk you.”

Maitimo shuddered visibly, arching his back and panting, and Finno grinned. 

“Do you like that idea?” he asked, flicking the nub and groaning when he saw how Maitimo shuddered again. 

“Perhaps,” his copper-haired meldo murmured, indulging Finno’s impossible fantasy and rutting against his fingers. “But you will have to open me first, so that you fuck me and fill me up until it takes. Then we shall see.” 

Finno’s chest tightened as he slid a second finger in and watched his lover’s face, noting how his eyelids fluttered and his lips hung open in need. Finno scissored his fingers and curled them and reveled in the stuttered rise and fall of his lover’s breast. Even the sight of Maitimo’s cock, long, hard, flushed, and leaking drove Finno mad.

“You do like this,” he growled, his tone ringing with hope and triumph. 

“I love what it does to you, what you mean by it.” Maitimo’s voice almost broke with desperation, and Finno could not stop himself from leaning forward and urging Maitimo up onto his elbows for a kiss. 

His fingers, three of them now, worked rapidly, stretching and stroking his meldo from the inside, as his lips claimed his partner’s. Their mouths opened as they moaned together. 

Need you, need you so much. Finno’s thoughts vibrated along with his fingers as their tongues met, and Maitimo keened desperately into the kiss, already surrendering entirely to Finno.

Then take me, please. Take me, Kánya. Fill me up with the evidence of your lust for me. 

Finno gasped and broke the kiss. His long, loose curls fell in his face and over Maitimo’s chest until black mingled with red. It was as though they were already joined, Finno thought madly. 

“Just one more, one more finger,” he murmured. His movements became more desperate, and his cock ached from the restraint that it took to not claim his prize then and there. 

“I can…ai!...I can take you now…oh please…” 

Maitimo’s pleas were music to Finno’s ears, and they only made him feel more mischievous and more desirous to tease his dear one. 

“Patience, sweetling, I want to make you as open and receptive as possible,” he said soothingly, even as he hooked one of Maitimo’s legs over his shoulder.

“Kánya,” Maitimo rasped when Finno turned his head and nipped at his calf. 

“I love your legs.” Finno’s voice thrummed with reverence as he pulled his fingers out, relishing the pop, and slicked his own cock. 

“I love how strong yet pliant you are,” he added as took hold of Maitimo’s other leg and pushed back until his lover’s thighs were flush against his strong chest. 

“I love how eager you are to take me, and how desperately seductive your begging is,” he said as Maitimo crossed his ankles behind his neck.

“I love how you indulge me, and I love how…stars!...” His voice stuttered and shook as he sheathed himself inside of Maitimo, feeling him give way.

“For you…yes…only for you,” Maitimo insisted.

“You are so tight, meldonya. I swear, it feels as though you are tugging me and you mean to keep me there, until…until…”

“Until you leave enough of yourself inside me to make me round with your get,” Maitimo purred. His voice turned full, throaty, and seductive as he spoke.

Finno was utterly lost. Those words, that tone, the heat of his hröa, the sweet clench of his passage, and the sight of him arching his back and baring his throat, his chest, his belly

Every inch of Maitimo’s glorious form left Findekáno unable to hold back any longer. 

He began to move in earnest, thrusting hard and deep, but still slowly and deliberate, into his lover. They had been coming together like this for so long that Finno knew exactly how to angle his hips so that the head of his cock caught Maitimo’s singing spot and made him cry out in ecstasy with every stroke.

“‘Tis not only about lust. ‘Tis about proving…ai… ‘tis about proving that we are right…that we are worthy of…” 

Words failed Finno when Maitimo dug his nails into Finno’s back, fisted his fingers in Finno’s hair, and used his legs to tug him closer so that their breaths mingled as they drew closer to the edge.

“I know, I know,” Maitimo rasped. “I know how badly….I know why you want so much to breed me, and I would let you if I could.”

A wave of pleasure crashed over Finno, drowning out all sound, draining all color until only he could see only blinding white lights, and leaving him shuddering and spasming all over as he spilled and spilled into his lover’s willing hole. His ears rang as he felt Maitimo’s hröa arch into his. His mind screamed in pained pleasure as Maitimo clawed at his back and pulled at his hair, all while his sweet, tight little hole fluttered and squeezed Finno’s already overstimulated cock.

“Kánya!” The sound cut through the haze of Finno’s lust as Maitimo found his release. 

***

Time ceased to matter in the haze of their afterglow. Findekáno slid out of Maitimo and rolled onto his side so that he could pull his bedmate into his arms and cover his face and neck with kisses. He cared not about the mess that they had made of the bed. Nothing mattered to him besides his need to hold Maitimo and keep him close.

“Thank you, thank you,” he kept saying as he kissed his meldo’s soft mouth.

“Hush, hush, I know that you needed that, and I…ai…I did enjoy your passion,” Maitimo murmured once Finno at last moved down to his neck.

“I hope that you know…” Finno’s voice faltered as he searched for the right words to say. As soon as they came, he let them spill out of him without thought.

“I do not wish that you were a nis or even that your hröa were different. I just…I know that I want a child and that you…you would be so natural as an atar, and I wish that we could give that to one another. I wish that we could have everything together.” 

He knew that he was babbling, and Maitimo must have known that too, for he soon silenced Finno with a kiss, tangling his fingers in his hair and rolling on top of him.

“Hush, meldonya. I know what you wish, but let us at least enjoy what we can have,” Maitimo pleaded as he straddled Finno’s hips and held him fast with strong thighs. His expression was so earnest, and his eyes were full of need that Finno could not gainsay him. Besides, the river of his red hair was flowing down and mingling with Finno’s loose, dark curls, and the sight was so lovely that it drove all other thoughts from his mind. 

Notes:

So, I know that I haven’t updated this in a while, but I’d been considering this idea. I also wanted to write some canon comfort sex, along with Findekáno dreading separation from Maitimo, to get myself in the right mindset to write the next Helcaraxë chapter tomorrow. That should be up by Tuesday at the latest.

Chapter 15: Fanart for Hotspring Dick-Riding

Summary:

So many thanks to the incredible Drxconics for their hardwork on this commission of the sex scene from chapter 4!

Chapter Text

Maitimo and Findekáno at Formenos