"If they fled into the forest, it could take weeks to find them," Boromir said, looking at the dark, overhanging eaves of the trees with unease. He had heard tales of Fangorn Forest ever since he was a boy, and while he did not recall the actual stories.....though he was almost certain his brother probably could.....he remembered that they had filled him with dread and trepidation back then. And the forest had that same effect on him still.
Aragorn sighed, turning his eyes to his companion. "You might well be right, but I think it was wise to send Legolas and Gimli to scour the opposite end of the forest. By splitting our forces, we shall be able to cover more ground."
"Aye, that is true," Boromir replied. Then he suddenly winced, his hand pressing to the front of his shoulder.
Immediately, Aragorn turned his full attention to his friend, rushing over taking Boromir's arm gingerly, saying, "Are the wounds bothering you?"
"Well, I did not harbor any illusions that being shot with arrows and living to tell about it would not carry some lasting consequence," Boromir grumbled, his voice slightly tinged with humor, nevertheless. The sound of which caused Aragorn to lift his blue eyes briefly to Boromir's face before turning his attention back to his companion's injuries. With quick, economical gestures, he began to snap open the silver catches on the long leather coat that Boromir wore, causing the Gondorian to smile in a bemused fashion and glance around at their surroundings.
"Aragorn......Are you planning on stripping me down right here in plain sight?"
The Ranger glanced into Boromir's face again, and now his own voice carried light amusement as he replied, "Would you complain if I did?"
"Nay....I would have no words of protest to offer," Boromir agreed, still smiling. "But it occured to me that Eomer and the Rohirrim might have some questions for us if they were to come riding back this way."
Aragorn now smiled as well, his eyes now glinting with the first stirrings of arousal as well as amusement as he said, "Then we must away and find a place more suitable for me to tend..........your needs."
At his hesitation and his choice of words, Aragorn saw Boromir's green eyes light up as his own desire was now awakened. The Gondorian warrior let his hand stroke through the tangled strands of Aragorn's dark hair as he said with a sudden intensity and quiet urgency, "Yes......Let us do that. Quickly."
Aragorn took Boromir's hand in his own and began to lead him toward the northern end of the forest. As he walked, he thought about the past few months, and how his relationship with this man beside him had so dramatically changed from the way it had been when they had first known each other at Rivendell.
Ever since the first night that Aragorn had persuaded the handsome Captain of Gondor to make love to him, three days after the Fellowship had set out on their quest, the two men had become inseperable. Theirs was a bond that was stronger than kinship or birthrights. They bore a love for one another as great as any they could have shared with a wife. They had not had many other chances for physical intimacy as they had shared that night, but the emotions between the two had not diminished in the slightest despite that.
Now that there were assured that their two Hobbit companions had at least escaped the clutches of the Uruk-Hai, and they knew that Legolas and Gimli were hunting for them, the two men felt as though they were now able to let their baser natures come to the fore for a while, in a way they had not allowed them to do so since Lothlorien, which was the last time that they had engaged in such activity.
Of course Aragorn realized that the after-effects of fear were also driving him as surely as love and lust were. There had been many moments on this quest when he had been afraid. The avalanche on Caradhras had been a frightening moment, as had the battle with the cave troll in Moria when he thought Frodo had been killed, and of course, losing Gandalf. That event had put a stranglehold of dread upon him that even the clever and tender ministrations of Boromir in Lorien had been hard put to dissipate.
But none of those moments could compare to the bone-chilling terror and heartbreaking sorrow he had felt when he had rushed into that sunlit clearing, strewn with orc bodies, to see his beloved, cherished Boromir on the ground, felled by three orc arrows. At that very moment, half-crazed with grief, Aragorn felt that despite the quest, and despite his destiny to become King, he could have gladly made an end to himself right then and there, if only to join the one he loved in the Halls of Mendos.
But, by some divine grace of the Valar that Aragorn could not conceive of, none of the arrows that pierced Boromir's body had hit any vital organs, so the wounds were painful and bled a great deal, but were not at all life-threatening. And soon Boromir had felt well enough to join the hunters on their search for the Uruk-Hai to rescue poor little Merry and Pippin.
Since then, Aragorn felt as if he had been going on pure adrenaline alone. It was only now, as events had slowed down and allowed him time to actually think, that he realized how afraid he had been and how very weary he was in both body and mind. As they crossed into the cool darkness of the forest, he began to walk with purposeful strides, listening to the murmurs of the trees around them as they noted the presence of these visitors.
He felt his hand being squeezed suddenly, and their progress was brought to a halt. He turned to see Boromir looking around at the trees, his eyes wide and alert, a suspicious expression on his face. "I like this forest not," he murmured. "The trees......They watch us."
"Aye, that they do," Aragorn agreed. "But they watch only for ill intent. They have no wish to harm us needlessly. If we show no hostility toward them, then they will let us pass unhindered."
Still tense, Boromir let his eyes sweep the tangled, twisted branches that surrounded them, but he seemed to accept Aragorn's words nevertheless, nodding slightly in acknowledgement of them. The Ranger smiled, suddenly quite taken with Boromir's almost child-like unease. Impulsively, he closed the gap between them and pushed a lock of blonde hair away from the side of the warrior's neck so that he could press his lips to the warm flesh.
With a comfortable sigh, Boromir let his head fall back, exposing more of his throat to Aragorn's attentions. As the Ranger's mouth caressed the sensitive skin, the Gondorian pressed his body closer to the other man's, his hands stroking along Aragorn's shoulders and the back of his neck, his movements becoming more restless and erratic as his arousal intensified.
"Feeling more at ease now?" Aragorn whispered, letting his tongue dart out to stroke the delicate contour of Boromir's ear. He felt the Captain's solid frame shiver against him, and the Ranger could not help but smile at the reactions he could produce in the normally tough and sturdy warrior.
"Mmm-hmm......." Boromir murmured, his eyes closed in a state of near bliss, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. To Aragorn, he looked indescribably lovely right now, and he suddenly could not wait to get Boromir to a more secluded place.
"Come, mellon-nin......We must keep moving," Aragorn urged, taking Boromir's hand again and giving it a slight tug to urge the soldier out of his dreamlike state.
"Aye......Right......" Boromir suddenly said, snapping to and following Aragorn, the barest hint of a flush coloring his cheeks the only proof now of his growing desire.
They walked through the twisting forest paths, almost reaching the very northern border of the forest, when suddenly a low-roofed structure caught their attention. It appeared to be a small cabin made of stones and mud, that was set off to one side of the path. There was a small, weed-infested garden on one side of the structure, and a small brook of fresh water ran along the other side. The place would almost seem idyllic if not for the obvious neglect. The thatched roof was slightly collapsed in places, and the mud between some of the stones had long ago crumbled away, leaving convenient nesting places for various small species of birds.
But for all its disrepair, the place still looked quite inviting. Therefore, Aragorn and Boromir moved toward it without hesitation, pushing open the wooden door, which creaked unsteadily on its hinges.
The interior of the cabin was very pleasant, if sparsely furnished. There was only a small table and two chairs sitting against the front wall. The main feature in the room was a broad stone fireplace, and in front of the rather large hearth, the floor was covered with a wide expanse of luxurious furs, piled and layered together in a most comfortable-looking fashion.
Aragorn nodded in silent approval of the dwelling, and then turned to Boromir, blue eyes full of anticipation meeting green ones with almost matching emotions. However, as he noticed the slight hint of pain in Boromir's face, he knew practical matters had to come first.
"All right, this looks like a good place to rest for a bit, and I want to take time now to attend to those wounds of yours," he gestured to the furs and said, "Sit yourself down, Boromir. I am going outside to gather some water from that little stream."
The Ranger watched as the blonde man did as he was asked, lowering himself to the floor before the vast fireplace, then he headed outside, grabbing up a bucket that was sitting near the door. He dipped the bucket into the stream, filling it about halfway with the clear water. Then, on his way back inside, his eyes happened upon the overgrown garden, and a smile spread across his face as he immediately recognized one of the plants that grew there. It was athelas.
Quickly pulling out his knife, his cut quite a few sprigs of the healing plant. As he worked, a slight odor of smoke came to his nostrils, and he glanced up to see that the chimney at the top of the cabin was lazily exuding grayish white puffs into the air. Good. That meant that Boromir had started a fire. All the better, for the athelas could steep in hot water and make the healing properties of the plant all that more effective. Satisfied with the way things were going so far, Aragorn moved back toward the door.
As he entered the cabin again, he noted with approval that Boromir had already stripped to the waist, and was sitting in the middle of the pile of furs wearing only his breeches. Even his boots had been already removed. He looked quite comfortable and quite peaceful. He was staring into the heart of the fire as Aragorn entered, only breaking away from his silent comtemplation when he heard the other man re-enter the cabin.
Aragorn felt his pulse quicken as Boromir flashed his eyes upon him. It was only a split second glance and a quick smile before he turned back to gaze at the flames again, but it was a galvanizing second.
There, there it was again. That quick glance from those beautiful eyes......*Snap*
Do that again, Aragorn thought, his mind reeling and his body suddenly, painfully aroused. Make those eyes at me again. If only you knew how incredibly gorgeous you look when you do that............
Now the Ranger noticed that Boromir was giving him a rather quizzical look, and he looked down to see that he was just standing here, with the pail of water still in one hand and the clutch of athelas leaves in the other. He gave a rather self-deprecating chuckle and moved toward the fire, setting the pail of water down on the trestle that stood over the glowing embers. Then he tore the athelas leaves in half to release their healing properties before adding them to the bucket. Soon, the sweet, wholesome, calming fragrance filled the room. Aragorn rummaged through his pack and pulled out a clean strip of cloth, which he dipped into the bucket, the contents of which were now plesantly warm, but not too hot.
"You seemed quite lost in your thoughts for a moment, Aragorn," Boromir said teasingly, as Aragorn began to carefully bathe the puncture wounds in his chest and abdomen caused by the arrows. At the first touch of the athelas-laced water, Boromir felt the ache in the wounds suddenly dissipate, and a sense of well-being came to him, although his mind was still troubled despite his jesting words to Aragorn.
Aragorn glanced up at his friend, smiling and saying, "'Tis easy to lose one's self in contemplation when faced with you looking so inviting, my beautiful Boromir."
The warrior's eyes softened and he reached out to run his fingers through Aragorn's hair again, whispering, "I thank you for your words, my friend. But I fear that I do not feel very beautiful. In fact, I feel as though my soul is black and rotting away like a corpse."
Aragorn flicked his gaze up at Boromir, pausing in his labors, his blue eyes full of concern. "Why do you say these things? What reason could you have for feeling in such a way?"
Boromir did not speak for a long moment, only continued to stare into the heart of the flames. Aragorn went back to bathing the warrior's wounds, giving Boromir time to arrange his words in his own head before he spoke them.
When the Gondorian did speak, however, it was in a low, defeated tone that immediately caused Aragorn to look at him again. "I should have fought harder........For the Little Ones......I should have been able to prevent their being taken." He paused, glancing at Aragorn, and the Ranger drew in a startled breath at the depth of pain and inner turmoil he saw in those green eyes. "By attempting to steal the Ring from Frodo, I failed as a man. And by allowing Merry and Pippin to be taken by the Orcs, I have failed as a warrior as well." He lowered his gaze to the floor, murmuring, "I should have died at Amon Hen, Aragorn. At least with my death, I could have restored some semblance of honor to myself........to my family. I have brought shame upon them by my weakness." He paused again, and now his eyes shimmered with tears as he glanced up at Aragorn and added in a thickened voice, "And shame upon you...my King." Then he dropped his eyes to the floor once again.
"Gods.....No, Boromir," Aragorn whispered, distressed. He reached out to clasp Boromir's wrist, which the soldier allowed, though he did not look up. "You have shamed no one. You fought bravely. You have kept your honor." The Ranger paused, and Boromir now looked up, his expression still deeply troubled, but now lightly touched with the first currents of hope as well.
Aragorn locked eyes with his friend, and the honesty and intensity of his gaze nearly startled Boromir. He now felt the hope strengthen in his heart, and...perversely...also noted that Aragorn's steady stare was kindling some rather profound stirrings below his waist.
Now Aragorn reached forward and lightly stroked his hand down Boromir's cheek, and when he reached the curving line of Boromir's chin, the warrior dipped his head slightly to press a kiss to the Ranger's palm. Aragorn's eyes had a sheen to them as he whispered, "I could never be ashamed of you, Boromir.....Never...."
With that, he leaned forward, claiming Boromir's lips with his own in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. Boromir immediately responded by sliding his arms around the Ranger's body and pulling him closer, licking eagerly at the inside of Aragorn's mouth as a deep murmur of approval rumbled in his throat.
"Melethron...." Aragorn whispered against Boromir's lips as they temporarily seperated for a breath of air, only to come together again, their breathing becoming heavier as their bodies begged for greater contact after so many long nights of abstinence.
Almost growling with impatience, Boromir rose to his knees and began to scrabble at Aragorn's clothing, wanting to get the Ranger undressed as quickly as possible, but not willing to relinquish the heat and delicious taste of the mouth he was plundering. Finally, he realized that he would indeed have to stop kissing Aragorn at least temporarily in order to strip the other man effectively. Soon leather and fabric alike went flying as Boromir's eager hands made swift work of removing the layers that Aragorn wore. Soon the Ranger was kneeling opposite him and clad as he was, only in his dark grey leggings. The evidence of his arousal was quite prominant through the thin cloth, and this only increased Boromir's already raging libido.
He suddenly grabbed up double handfuls of Aragorn's dark hair and pulled the Ranger's head forward so he could invade the hot cavern of his mouth once again, his tongue licking and darting and twining with Aragorn's own tongue. His lips slid busily over Aragorn's with bruising force. He was trembling violently in his wild desire to have even more contact with this mouth....This gorgeous, succulent mouth that he never tired of kissing. If he could have crawled inside Aragorn's mouth with his entire body, he would have.
By now, Boromir's erection was straining so hard against the front of his breeches that it hurt. It felt almost as though the laces were cutting into his sensitive flesh. He undulated his hips ever so slightly, trying to relieve the ache. Aragorn immediately took note of this, even though his mouth was being thoroughly and deliciously violated at the moment. The Ranger let his hands slide down the muscular slopes of the warrior's chest and stomach, then started loosening the laces of his breeches with quick, nimble tugs of his fingers. Boromir let out a whimper of delight and relief as Aragorn freed his engorged shaft and now wrapped his fingers around it, stroking it lightly with a practiced hand.
As Aragorn's hand increased its pace over Boromir's manhood, Boromir found it necessary to break off kissing the Ranger for need of air, and instead leaned his head against Aragorn's shoulder, his body still trembling, his breath coming in shallow pants and half-swallowed moans.
"Aragorn," Boromir murmured, alternating hungry open mouthed kisses over the Ranger's flesh with small bites that caused Aragorn to stiffen slightly and hiss in a sharp intake of breath. "Would you do something for me?"
"Mmm....Yes, I would do just about anything for you, my lovely Boromir," Aragorn said in a low voice, his eyes drifting closed from the sensual ministrations that Boromir was giving his neck and shoulder. He continued to stroke his lover's blood-heavy shaft, loving the feel of it in his grasp. After waiting for so long to be together in such a way once again, it was almost as if the two of them were rediscovering each other, and such an idea proved to be quite a powerful aphrodesiac.
As if any were actually required, Aragorn thought to himself with a little private smile. Boromir's lean, powerful body was all the aphrodesiac that Aragorn required. The Gondorian's combination of enthusiasm, aggression, and responsiveness was a powerfully erotic mix to the Ranger's senses, and it made Aragorn hungry for this man like he had hungered for no other being before.
Now as Boromir spoke his request, Aragorn felt his body...which he had thought already fully aroused...suddenly become overwhelmed with desire. For what Boromir asked was something that Aragorn thought he might never hear.
"I wish for you to take me."
Aragorn was stunned. He pulled back to look into Boromir's eyes, and saw only love, trust, and surety....well mixed, of course, with a healthy dose of pure animal lust. No fear. No apprehension. No indecision. He really, truly wanted this, Aragorn saw.
Throughout their relationship, Boromir had always been the more dominant partner. He would take Aragorn with a tender ferocity whenever they had the opportunity...which on this quest, was only about two or three times since that first night together...but showed absolutely no inclination to have their roles reversed. Whether the warrior thought it "unmanly" to be taken like a woman, or whether it was just simple uneasiness about the process, Aragorn was never sure. But he had never pressed Boromir about the issue, and had, of course, tended to his lover's needs with his hands or his mouth as Boromir wished.
Now, to hear Boromir actually request that Aragorn take him was beyond erotic. It was galvanizing. For the first time in his adult life, Aragorn truly thought he was going to find release within his leggings without anyone even touching him. That did not happen, but the wave of intense desire that swept over him was so powerful that the normally controlled Ranger's hands were shaking as he cupped Boromir's face between them.
"Boromir....Are you certain of this?" Aragorn asked, his blue eyes seaching the other man's carefully for any sign of wavering resolve. He wanted to be one hundred percent sure that this is what his lover wanted.
"Aye," Boromir answered simply, his own eyes shining with emotion as he gently pulled Aragorn's hands away from his face and kissed each of them in turn. Then he silently reclined on the soft furs beneath them, removing his breeches completely and simply laying there, waiting, his legs bent and slightly parted, looking expectantly and passively up at Aragorn.
Oh, how much more inviting could this be? Aragorn's mind and body were both in a stew of lust and love and need and desire. He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of this beautiful naked male form, softly illuminated by the flickering firelight. Then Aragorn was pawing through his pack again, grabbing up the tiny vial of oil that he kept in it for just such a purpose as this. However, every time before this, it was to make it easier for Boromir to enter his body. Now, of course, it would be used to prepare Boromir instead.
His hands shaking so badly that he almost dropped the vial three times, Aragorn finally managed to coat his fingers liberally with the slick substance and then moved to kneel in front of Boromir's parted legs. Now the Ranger leaned forward, partially overhanging Boromir's body, placing his free hand beside the warrior and leaning his weight on it as he slid his oil-covered fingers between Boromir's legs until he found the tight entrance to his body. He pushed gently, even though he had penetrated Boromir with his fingers before now, he wanted to take his time and do this right. He wanted Boromir's first time to be as painless as possible, and he was willing to treat him as carefully as he would have treated a young maiden on her wedding night.
This thought made a sudden smile come to Aragorn's lips, and Boromir gave him a questioning look, even as he sighed with the pleasure of Aragorn's fingers invading his body.
"Is this to be our wedding night, Boromir?" Aragorn asked, almost giddy with joy and love right now. "Is that what this is?"
Boromir now smiled as well, his green eyes almost glowing in the light of the fire. "If it were within the bounds of convention, Aragorn.....I would consent to marry you." Then his smile broadened as he added, "Although I would not consent to be named your Queen."
Aragorn grinned, leaning down to give the soldier an impulsive kiss, even as he moved his fingers within Boromir, stretching him and preparing him for what was to come. Boromir hissed slightly against Aragorn's lips, and Aragorn could feel him struggling to relax.
Now Aragorn prepared to add a third finger to the two already buried deep within the body beneath him, which was more than he had ever attempted with Boromir before now. In order to distract Boromir somewhat from this new sensation, Aragorn took the Gondorian's erection in his free hand and began sliding his thumb over the head of it in slow circles, the movement aided by the slight buildup of fluid that had leaked from the slit in the top. Boromir arched slightly into Aragorn's touch, moaning softly. At that moment, Aragorn breached him with the third finger. Boromir's eyes seemed torn between pleasure and discomfort as a small whimper of unease escaped his throat. He swallowed hard, and again he made a conscious effort to relax.
Aragorn paused, not pushing too quickly. He looked down at Boromir, gauging the other man's reactions carefully, then he asked, "Is this all right? Shall I proceed?"
Boromir let out a slightly shivering breath and replied, "Yes....Yes, please go on. 'Tis all right. It just....feels different." He smiled a bit, then added, "You are very good at this."
The Ranger smiled in response to this compliment, then he asked softly, "You wish to see exactly how good this can be?"
The look of interest and lustful curiosity that greeted this question was answer enough for Aragorn. Carefully, he shifted his fingers within the confines of Boromir's body, curling them slightly so that they brushed against that most sensitive of spots deep inside.
Boromir's reaction was instantaneous. His back arched sharply and a harsh gasp of indrawn breath was exhaled as a heated groan of pleasure. Before he had a chance to recover from this first taste, Aragorn did it again, the groan he forced from Boromir this time being much louder and more wanton than the first. His erection, still loosely grasped in Aragorn's hand, actually increased in hardness and jumped in Aragorn's grip. Aragorn was halfway expecting Boromir to spill right then and there, so intense was his reaction to this. However, the warrior demonstrated his remarkable control and did not climax yet.
Aragorn stilled now, watching as Boromir lay staring at the ceiling for a moment, his chest heaving and his muscles trembling in reaction. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out on his brow. Now Boromir lifted his head slightly to focus on Aragorn, his green eyes dark as a shaded forest, and filled with a frank amazement. He licked his lips and managed to say in a shaking, husky voice, "Dear Valar......That was......I never thought such pleasure existed."
"There's more where that came from," Aragorn purred, smiling. Then his smile faded a bit and his eyes grew more intense as he said, "You are opened up enough for me now. Do you wish for me to take you now, melethron? Are you ready for this?"
Boromir swallowed, and a sea of emotions swirled within his eyes as he murmured, "Yes, Aragorn. I am ready. I wish...." He paused and briefly gnawed at his bottom lip before concluding, "...I wish to feel you within me. All of you. Please do it now."
Aragorn's blue eyes filled with the utmost tenderness. He was now doubly determined to make sure that this went as easily as possible. It suddenly seemed unforgiveable that Boromir should be hurt in any way whatsoever. For despite this man beneath him being tough and resourceful....despite the fact that he was the Captain-General of the White Tower....despite him being a veteran of many long, bloody battles.... At this very moment, all Aragorn could see was a beautiful, vunerable human being that looked up at him with complete trust. And Aragorn would do nothing to violate that trust. Not this night....Not any other night....Not ever.
So taking up the vial of oil once again, Aragorn opened his leggings and pushed them off, then proceeded to coat his erection with the oil until it gleamed in the firelight. Then he said softly, "You might find it easier for you this first time if you turn over on your stomach."
Boromir shook his head immediately at this suggestion, saying in reply, "Nay, Aragorn. I wish to be able to see you when you take me." He flushed slightly and added, "I wish to hold you. It is important to me."
Aragorn nodded, the feelings of tenderness increasing about tenfold now as he lifted Boromir's legs and wrapped them around his waist. Then he leaned forward, laying over his lover's body. Immediately, Boromir slid his hands up Aragorn's back and gripped his shoulders, letting out a shuddering breath as he felt the tip of Aragorn's solid shaft poking at his entrance.
Aragorn leaned on his elbows, which were on either side of Boromir's body, letting his hands stroke the warrior's shoulders and upper arms in slow, soothing gestures. Then he leaned down to brush his lips against Boromir's, causing the blonde man to sigh appreciatively.
"I love you," Aragorn murmured against Boromir's lips, and then pushed his hips forward slowly, penetrating the body beneath him with just the tip of his erection.
Immediately, Aragorn felt the already tight passage clamp down almost painfully around him. At that exact same moment, Boromir's eyes suddenly grew as large as dinner plates, and he gasped and gritted his teeth. "Boromir.....melda-nin.....you must relax. You must." He continued his soothing caresses and planted gentle kisses along Boromir's jawline, feeling the tension in his muscles.
"Gods.....It hurts..." Boromir whimpered, his eyes squeezed shut. He shuddered, trying desperately to relax as Aragorn told him. He took a giant intake of breath, then let it out very slowly, and his muscles unlocked bit by bit. Aragorn felt the crushing tightness around the head of his shaft easing somewhat, but he remained still, letting Boromir adjust to the intrusion.
Soon, Boromir opened his eyes. They still held an echo of the pain he had experienced, but they looked much calmer now. His breathing was now more or less even, instead of the ragged panting it had been only moments before.
"I think it is all right now, Aragorn," he said softly, his voice slightly rough. "You may proceed."
Moving in the slowest of possible increments, Aragorn began to push forward again, feeling his shaft working deeper into Boromir's body inch by agonizing inch. Gods. It was almost too much. Aragorn was fighting with his own considerable self-control not to just start thrusting madly into the wonderfully tight, velvety heat that surrounded him. Soon, however, he was fully enclosed within his lover, and Aragorn lay with his head on Boromir's shoulder, his own breathing now as rough and erratic as Boromir's was as he struggled to stay still and let Boromir adjust to him.
Finally, however, the more human, primal side of Aragorn's nature rose up. He could wait no longer. He had to move. He had to take. To claim. To obliterate Boromir's virginity and make him truly his. So he drew back slowly, then thrust forward again in one smooth movement, feeling Boromir's arms tighten around him and hearing him sigh in response to Aragorn's movement.
As Aragorn pulled back and then pushed forward a second time, he was quite surprised to feel Boromir actually push his hips against him now. It was a tentative movement....carefully executed....but it showed Aragorn that Boromir was not only getting over the discomfort of this act, but was actually starting to enjoy it. He looked down into Boromir's eyes and saw a new flare of passion there that gave the Ranger's lust a healthy boost as well. Now he began a more or less steady rhythm, still moving slowly. He leaned down to kiss Boromir tenderly and asked, "How are you faring, Boromir?"
"Oh Gods, Aragorn.....It is.....It feels.....quite good...." Boromir managed, his eyes fluttering closed as Aragorn rocked his body softly with his thrusts.
Aragorn smiled and whispered, "Well, just you wait, my beautiful Boromir. For it is about to get even better." With that, Aragorn sat more upright and slid his hands underneath Boromir's thighs to lift his legs higher up around the Ranger's body, which now changed the angle of Aragorn's thrusts. Now with each instroke, Aragorn was hitting that sweet, secret spot inside of Boromir, causing the warrior to arch and moan uncontrollably at the highly pleasurable sensations it created within him.
"Oh Aragorn...." Boromir groaned, his hands clutching spasmodically at the furs beneath him, his hips pushing forward to meet each of Aragorn's in-thrusts, his head tossed from side to side in sweet agony. "Oh Gods.....Oh yes.....Oh Aragorn....Gods, it feels so good...."
"Sweet Valar, Boromir, you are going to undo me," Aragorn panted, trying to maintain his swiftly unravelling self-control in the wake of Boromir's enthusiastic responses and beautiful-sounding moans of pleasure. He bowed his head, sweat dripping off his face onto the writhing body below him, his dark hair in wet tangles and tendrils as he began to drive harder and deeper into his lover.
"Yes!" Boromir cried, feeling the change instantly. "Oh yes! Harder, Aragorn! Dear Gods......yes!"
Aragorn wrapped his hand around Boromir's rock hard shaft, starting to stroke it in time to his thrusts now, hearing Boromir moan and cry out and beg for more. A smile broke out on Aragorn's face as he listened to his completely wanton lover. And to think, this is the same man who never wanted to try this before, Aragorn thought. And now he's acting like.....like....
"You brazen hussy," Aragorn rasped, smiling and grimacing at the same time as he now began to really pound Boromir's backside hard. "You're just a whore, aren't you, Boromir? You love this, don't you? You love me taking you hard and deep, don't you? Don't you?"
The combination of rough words and rougher sex finally became too much for Boromir. His back arched sharply again, and he cried out Aragorn's name as he exploded all over his own stomach and Aragorn's hand. The sight, sounds, and sensations of Boromir climaxing beneath him was enough to push the Ranger over the edge as well, and he shoved himself deeply into his lover one last time before he was pumping out his seed in copious bursts.
Carefully, he withdrew from Boromir's body and then collapsed onto the furs beside him, breathing heavily and looking up at the ceiling. Boromir half-turned toward him, gathering Aragorn into his arms and holding him close, burying his face into the crook of Aragorn's neck and breathing in the Ranger's scent as his body trembled in reaction to the intense physical pleasure he had just experienced. For a long time neither of them spoke.
Then, at length, Boromir whispered, "That was......amazing, Aragorn. Thank you." He gently kissed the side of the Ranger's neck.
"No, 'tis I that should thank you," Aragorn replied, turning his head to look into the well-loved face beside him. "You have given me a precious gift, and I will always treasure that. No matter how many more times you and I are together, I will always remember this night." He leaned his head over to press his forehead against Boromir's, closing his eyes and relishing the closeness...the companionship....the warm reality of the man in whose arms he lay. Then, remembering something, Aragorn spoke again, "And never again let me hear you say that you have shamed me. Such a thing could never happen, Boromir, for you are worth more to me than ten Kingships. Never forget that, and never despair again, melda-nin."
He felt/heard Boromir sigh and tighten the grip of his arms around him. Aragorn pressed his lips to the other man's forehead before letting his head fall back, bringing one arm up to run his fingers idly through the sweaty golden fall of Boromir's hair and listening to his lover's steady breathing and the crackle of the fire. They would probably have to get dressed and leave this place shortly, for Legolas and Gimli were no doubt wondering where they were, and there were still two lost Hobbits to track down....
But for now, Aragorn just wanted to lay here with the man he loved, and forget the rest of Middle Earth for a while. For everything he needed in the world was right here in this room with him anyway.
The End