EmberVixen's Fiction
"Paramour"

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Pairing: Saelbeth/Tinuvel (OFC)  Yes, that's slash.
 
Authors: EmberVixen and Leanan2000
 
Artwork: Leanan2000
 
Rating: NC-17 (of course)
 
Warnings: Devirginizing hot sex between two males.
 
Summary: Young Saelbeth was found as a parentless Elfling and has been raised in Imladris all of his life feeling he belonged with no one until he meets Tinuvel, a healer's apprentice taken to Imladris by Erestor as a favor for an old friend.  The two Elflings become fast friends, until one day, Tinuvel's feelings for Saelbeth begin to change.  When did his friend suddenly become so        attractive. . .and so arousing? 
 
NOTE:  Tinuvel is entirely Leanan's creation.  Enjoy him.  He's a hottie.  Hehehehe..... And as for Saelbeth, he is a non-canon character, so I made him like I see him.  And I see him this way.  He rocks.

~Paramour ~ Part I ~

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Tinuvel swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight of Saelbeth's lean body as the young archer dove unsuccessfully for another elusive salmon. He would probably never catch them that way, but was convinced that by some manner of stealth he just might grab one. Diving beneath the surface once more, he swam some distance away before coming up for air triumphantly, a twig tangled between his fingers.

"Orc balls," he muttered, tossing the stick onto the grassy embankment near the rivers sandy beach.

Tinuvel would have been amused were it not for the sudden shift in his feelings. Saelbeth was fast approaching adulthood, his muscles lithe and honed from the time he spent amongst the treetops, practicing archery from all manner of odd angles, sometimes dangling upside down from the nearest limb and other times, crouched amongst precariously thin branches, targeting driftwood and fallen timber as if they were deadly adversaries. How Tinu longed to share in the carefree activities of his friend, yet his own skills were kept upon the ground where gentle fingers were of more use to wounded flesh than swift arrows.

His thoughts drifted back to the present as Saelbeth sank beneath the crystalline water, his flaxen hair trailing after him like a silken serpent as he scrubbed the river silt from his body with his fingers. The young elf resurfaced with a gasp, his curtain of hair suctioned to his shoulders like a golden cloak. Tinu's tongue darted out to unconsciously wet his lips. By the Valar, Saelbeth was beautiful! Why had he never noticed this before? And why was he noticing it now? With a frown, he silently admonished himself for admiring his friend in such a lurid manner. He should not look upon him that way. It wasnt. . .proper. And besides, Saelbeth would never return the gesture. . . would he?

Saelbeth paused in his antics, his young body gleaming slickly in the hazy light of evening's final hours. Tinuvel's eyes were upon him yet again, his gaze questingly curious. Squeezing the remnants of water from his pale tresses, Saelbeth tossed his damp mane over one shoulder and waded to the sand-strewn grasses where his friend sat with his arms clasped about his legs, head resting on his knees.

"Merilin*, what troubles you?" he asked, emerging from the shallows, rivulets of moisture running enticingly down the rippled planes of his stomach and into the thatch of curls that housed his. . .

Iluvatars balls! Tinuvel averted his gaze quickly, his dark hair falling to hide the flush that suddenly crept over his cheeks.

"N-nothing. It is nothing." Tinuvel stammered, wincing as Saelbeth's hand came to rest upon his shoulder. He involuntarily jerked away, for the touch of the other's hand upon his bare flesh was simply too much to bear.

Confusion rested within the pale clarity of Saelbeth's eyes. Had he done something to offend the healer? Maybe he was simply showing off too much or maybe Tinuvel was aghast at his unabashed nudity or maybe. . .

"I. . I have to go," Tinuvel announced suddenly, interrupted Saelbeth's internal tirade.

"But. . ." the remainder of the sentence would have been useless to utter, for the dark haired Elf was on his feet and walking rather hurriedly back towards the House of Elrond, leaving Saelbeth crouching naked upon the sand, hand still outstretched for an unseen gesture of comfort.

The young healer did not look back. He could not. He knew Saelbeth's frosted blue eyes would be following him, his body slippery and glistening in the sunlight, and he did not trust himself not to fall down into the sand at his feet and lap up the moisture as it ran in rivulets down the archers muscular thighs.

With his eyes cast down at the path, Tinuvel continued to plod back towards the safety of the House, back to his books, back to his herbs, back to the privacy of his own room to alleviate this incessantly annoying pull at his groin.

Never before had the sight of his friend aroused such feelings in him before, and even that was annoying, because it meant that either he had all of a sudden found Saelbeth desperately attractive or that he had possibly felt this way all along and just been too dull to figure it out.

Regardless of the reasons behind the stirring in his crotch, the problem still remained, and despite his best efforts to walk off the rising menace, he found that it just seemed to be getting more insistent with every step. By the time Tinuvel had reached the main part of the courtyard, his situation had quite tripled in size and walking about in public was neither comfortable nor advisable. Spying a rather large privet in neglected part of the outer garden, the healer gingerly made his way over towards the overgrown greenery and slipped himself between the towering spires, completely hidden from view from any one who might happen to pass by.

Loosening the stays on his breeches just enough to free the source of his anguish, the healer wrapped his fist around the dusky purple tip of his arousal, his body shuddering at his touch. Already his breathing was increasing, just at the thought of release, and though he had already visited this private pleasure once already today, he found his body most eager to send him to the pulsing land of blissful relief once again.

Firmly Tinuvel palmed his aching member, thumbing the ridge below the head with practiced ease, knowing just what fingers would give him the quickest results. Within moments, the young healer's hand had found its rhythm and his hips had begun their dance, thrusting against the firm pressure of his fist until he felt the white heat of his release beginning to crawl up his thighs,. Tensing for a brief moment, Tinuvel allowed the pleasure to crest, and then when he felt the fist waves of his orgasm beginning to pulse, he stroked himself quickly to completion, the heated stream of his lust pearling the dark green of the privet as it dripped from the tiny leaves to fall wantonly to the ground.

With a low groan, that he was suddenly self conscious for uttering, Tinuvel held onto his softening member and quickly glanced from the bushes to make sure that he had not made himself a spectacle. Sighing, as much from the tremendous relief he felt, as for the sheer annoyance at his body, he quickly adjusted his satisfied body part back into his breeches and laced them loosely. Pulling his tunic down over his still noticeable bulge, the healer stepped nonchalantly from the bushes. Wanting nothing more than to be on his way, and not think about Saelbeth and erections, and, uumm .... Saelbeth and..mmmmm......

Tinuvel gave himself a severe pinch on the arm and nearly collided with Saelbeth as the archer rounded the edge of the dense foliage. Taking a step back, Saelbeth eyed his friend curiously, for the healer was quite flushed.

"Tinuvel," Saelbeth said, moving to brush the dark-haired Elf's cheek with the back of his hand. "Are you ill?"

The healer brushed Saelbeth's touch away almost irritably. "No. . Saelbeth. . I am fine. . .I have. . .patients to attend to. . .things to do. . .I. . .shall see you another time," Tinuvel said rather stiffly, hurrying away before his friend could utter another word.

* * * *

Rather than pursue the issue with the healer further, Saelbeth had returned to the river to attend to the task of bathing, something he had neglected to do while distracted by the act of trying to catch fish with his nothing more than his hands.

He now lay sprawled upon the grassy embankment, his naked body having dried some time ago. For the time being, he was content to lie within the suns rays and soak up its warmth lazily.

And think of Tinuvel.

Why had his friend acted so strangely? Certainly Saelbeth had said nothing to offend him, yet the healer had hurried away as if the very air they shared was tainted by some unknown act Saelbeth had committed. Never had he known his friend to act this way and this both confused and worried him.

He remembered when he had first met Tinuvel so many years ago and how the two had come to find a common thread within their abandonment.

* * * * * * * *

The fish would come to him if he waited. Saelbeth was sure of that. After all, they were not so smart as to outfox the future High Elven King of all of Arda! Well, that was at least how the Elfing would have it go if he could. . .

"If you lean too closely to that pond, young one, you will find yourself with an unwanted bath early in the day," a familiar voice chided him.

"Sssshh!" Saelbeth said, pressing his finger to lips, the frosty blue of his eyes never leaving the shallow water. "You will scare the fish away and then I will have to sit here forever before they come back!"

"They will never come to you anyway, pen-neth. Do you not know that fish are mindless creatures who live only to eat and swim about in their own fecal matter?"

He had not thought of it that way. Saelbeth's full lips pursed into a contemplative pout. "That is gross, Erestor," the Elfling said, backing away from the pond's reflective surface.

He did not bother to dust off his breeches, which were stained with so much dirt and grass that the tan coloring had turned a most horrid shade of murky brown. Shoving his pale flaxen hair away from his eyes with one grubby hand, he turned to face the regally clad advisor who so loved to vex him. Affectionately, of course, but vexing none the less.

The dark-tressed Elf was glancing behind him, his ever-lengthening braid tossed over one shoulder, ignoring Saelbeth for the moment.

"Hey, what are you looking at?" Saelbeth demanded, planting his hands upon his hips. "I was talking to you!"

"You have the patience of an Orc, youngling," Erestor said, one delicate brow arching gracefully at his young charge who continued to give him his best look of disgust. "There is someone I would like for you to meet, if you can manage to calm yourself."

"I am calm!" Saelbeth practically shouted, rolling his eyes at the advisor who continued to gaze at him with bemused coolness.

"Silence yourself, Saelbeth! What kind of impression will you make upon our young guest if you bellow like an Oliphant in heat?" Erestor reprimanded him, again turning to look behind the folds of his absurdly tight robes to wink at some unseen companion.

Saelbeth couldnt see anybody. Erestor must have gone mad. Yes, that was it. It was bound to happen sooner or later, anyway. Perhaps his clothing was too binding and he could not breath enough air. . .

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It was then that the Elfling noticed the tiny hand that clutched at Erestors brocaded attire from behind. So, there was someone back there! Of course, that did not mean that Erestor did not suffer from lack of oxygen. Saelbeth was pretty sure something afflicted him the way he flitted about in such constricting clothing like a She-Elf.

He turned his attention back to the pale hand and boldly trotted around the advisor so that he could see just what was attached to those fingers. The owner of the hand had his face buried so deeply in Erestors robes, that Saelbeth could see naught but his dark hair and the tips of his ears.

It was another Elfling! Just like himself! And close to his age, too!

"Hey," Saelbeth chirped boldly, "who is that?"

"Remember your manners, young one!" Erestor snapped, shooting Saelbeth a rather irritated glare.

Saelbeth blissfully ignored him and tapped the other child upon the shoulder, leaning closer.

"Who are you?" he whispered rather loudly. "And where did you come from? And why are you hiding in Erestors robes? And. . ."

"Saelbeth!" Erestor barked. "Enough! By the sea and stars, how you can prattle on so is beyond me!"

The flaxen haired youngster continued to blissfully disregard his every word as usual. Instead, he took the others hand and smiled assuringly.

"Do not be afraid. Erestor will not harm you. He is just irritable and old."

"I am most certainly not old!" Erestor huffed indignantly.

"You are older than Elladan so that makes you old," Saelbeth said matter-of-factly.

"Elladan is only one thousand and I am barely twice that age!" Erestor argued. "Hardly ancient!"

"Old," Saelbeth repeated obstinately.

"Insolent whelp," Erestor muttered, glaring at the broadly grinning Elfling from beneath his dark lashes.

Saelbeth chose to ignore him once more and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The other child had lifted his face from the thick fabric of Erestor's clothing and was now regarding Saelbeth with large, dark eyes full of solemn seriousness.

"I am called Saelbeth," the bold youngster introduced himself. "What is your name?"

Tinuvel shrank further into the meager folds of the advisors robes clutching at the velveteen fabric with curling fingers, the hard muscles of the Elf's body shifting with annoyance beneath his pinching grasp.

Despite his best efforts to conceal himself, the blonde Elfing continued to eye him and even found a breath within his seemingly never ending string of questioning to announce himself, a rather moot point as Erestor had already shrieked the youngling's name no less than three time in as many minutes.

Tinuvel was no stranger to children, in fact , back home he had many chums that he ran with, but things here in Imladris were louder and faster than what he was accustomed too and so it seemed were the children...... well, at least this one.

The brazen Elfling suddenly moved towards him, and startled, Tinuvel grabbed at a handful of sapphire pleating realizing much too late that he had more of Erestor pinched beneath his fingers than robes.

"Aiya, Tinuvel!" Erestor yelped, gasping as the Elfling gave his posterior a rather painful squeeze.

At the sound of his name, the youngster abruptly released the wriggling advisor only to be snatched away by Saelbeth, who suddenly drew him into a surprisingly gentle embrace, smoothing his dark hair away from his cheek protectively.

"Erestor, you are so loud!" Saelbeth chided him seriously. "You are scaring him!"

"I am scaring.? Oh, of all the absurdities. . .! You!!. . .I. . .!!" the advisor clenched his teeth and growled in frustration. "Arrrrgghh!"

Saelbeth eyed the fuming Elf soberly. Then, putting a finger to his lips, he said, "sssshhh!"

A sardonic sneer lifted the corner of Erestor's lip as he glared at the impetuous youngling. "Fine," he said stiffly. "He is in your charge. If anything should happen to him, I shall make certain that you are unable sit properly for a week and a day, understand?"

"Yes, Ada," Saelbeth said mockingly.

Erestor flounced away, muttering something about leather straps and red backsides, leaving Saelbeth and his new companion staring in his wake.

"Do not mind Erestor," Saelbeth quipped, stepping away from the other child at last. "He is cranky when he cannot breathe in those clothes."

The other Elfling glanced up at him curiously. "Is he not cranky all the time, then?"

Saelbeth giggled. "Yep," he said simply. "Your name is Tinuvel."

The blond youngster was not asking. He was telling.

"Yes," the dark haired Elfling replied rather quietly. "And yours is Saelbeth."

Saelbeth cocked his head curiously. "How did you know?"

It was now Tinuvel's turn to laugh. "Erestor was shouting it at you an awful lot. You sure make him mad."

"Yup," the one now known as Saelbeth said again. Taking Tinuvel by the hand, he asked, "want to see me catch a fish with my bare hands? I can do it, you know. And I can show you how, too."

* * * * * * *

Saelbeth smiled wistfully as the colors of the evening deepened. He and Tinuvel had been practically inseparable since that moment, closer than brothers, wreaking havoc upon Imladris in all forms of mischief until Tinuvel's propensity for healing had emerged. Saelbeth's own baffling talents had begun to show themselves at the oddest times as well. He recalled somehow setting Erestor's drapes aflame on more than one occasion with a simple word as well as picking the thoughts of others out of the air as if they had spoken them aloud. His abilities had not gone unnoticed by Lord Elrond who had sought to help him harness them, but to little avail. The likes of such gifts had never been witnessed by the kind-hearted Elven Lord. And Saelbeth could not make them behave as he wished. . .or when he wished. They simply. . happened.

His stomach suddenly rumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten since early that morning. The fish had been most uncooperative this day. He would have to settle for something from Lord Elrond's kitchen and then it was off to practice a bit of archery, the one activity that he could actually hone with a bit of training.

Perhaps he would visit Tinuvel later that afternoon and see what mischief they could conjure. His friend was growing far too serious as of late.

Pulling on his breeches, Saelbeth trotted back towards the House of Elrond, eyeing the willowy branches of a young birch as he passed. It would make a fine perch to practice archery from afar. . .

After he had eaten Lord Elrond out of house and home, of course. . .

* * * *

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Tinuvel rolled another length of binding and set it upon the table. It was a tedious job, but it kept his mind from its lurid wanderings, and he indeed would be glad of the extra rolls should an injury present itself.

Since he was nearing the end of his apprenticeship, Elrond had taken to leaving him on his own in the healing room, trusting that if he was needed word would be sent and he could be there at a moments notice. Tossing another rolled binding on the table, the young healer found himself quite comfortable with the solitude. While Elrond was a wonderful teacher, and a superb healer, he did tend to use his gifts to get Tinuvel to speak of things he would not necessarily volunteer. Like the time he and Ella had put a snake in Arwen's tapestry basket and she had carried it all the way to the solarium, hissing and wiggling in its tiny prison only to burst forth like a spring when she set it s down. Never had anyone heard such a commotion as what issued from the lady's chamber that day and when Arwen was seen trundling down the corridor towards her fathers office with the wriggling menace in her fingers, the two had made themselves quite scarce.

Elrond had begin a lesson on snake bite antidotes and when the time was right tossed the offending wriggler onto the table, his eyebrows raised in the way that only the Lord of Imladris could manage. Of course a lecture of a different sort ensued about the

proper conduct of a gentleman and when Tinu had finally succumbed to the reprimand with a soft... "I am sorry"..... Elrond had just smirked and said, "try a spider next time.... they are harder to catch and the screams last longer!"

Tinuvel smiled to himself...for all of his pomp and decorum, Lord Elrond was indeed a very special Elf.

A light rapping on the door drew Tinuvel away from his reminiscing and he tossed the binding onto the table and stood brushing the fluff from the bleached fabric off his breeches.

"Come in.....," he called, turning his attention towards the doorway.

In limped the last person that Tinuvel wanted to be left alone with.... Saelbeth. The Elf gripped the doorsill in pain and despite his personal feelings on the matter, he hurried to the threshold and put his arm around the injured Elf's waist, spiriting him to the couch.

"What in all Arda has happened to you?" he inquired, trying to be as professionally distant as he could.

"Well, I was only trying to hit the target," Saelbeth replied with a grimace of discomfort, striving to suppress the urge to whimper like an injured Elfing.

He then added with a sheepish grin, "while walking a birch limb that may have been a bit too young for me to tread upon."

The breath hissed from between his clenched teeth as Tinuvel gently removed the boot from his left foot, for he was unable to properly point his toe to aid in the process. An angry swell of red marred his pale skin along the curve of his ankle and he flinched as Tinuvel's finger barely grazed the tender flesh.

Mordor fires, that hurt! Determined not to show just how badly the injury actually throbbed, Saelbeth ground his teeth once more, fusing his jaw shut with what he hoped was a calm expression. Every stroke of Tinuvel's hand sent searing pain through his foot, but he held as still as possible, enduring the examination as best he could.

Tinuvel slid his hand along the side of Saelbeth's boot hoping beyond hope that it was just a minor twist and that this would be as far as he had to go. A heated lump on the inside of the ankle was all he need to feel to know that the boot had to come off lest it swell so much that it needed to be cut off.

Supporting the Elf's leg with his arm, Tinuvel slipped the boot off with as little tugging as he could manage, but feeling Saelbeth tense under his efforts he knew that the injury was quite tender and would probably need further attention.

He could do this....He had to do this.

As the boot came off in his hand, the healer ran his fingers over the swelling, manipulating it slightly in his palm, rotating the ankle and stopping when Saelbeth winced. Looking up at his friend, he could see that the Elf was in pain, and pushing down any thought he may have that would impede his actions, Tinuvel set forth to heal the injury.

" 'Tis badly sprained," Tinuvel announced, rolling up the archer's breeches, exposing more of the muscular leg then perhaps he needed to.

Grabbing Saelbeth's foot be braced it against his chest and leaned forward putting enough pressure on the ankle to make the young Elf sweat just a bit. He did not want to hurt him, but he could not have him move. Swallowing hard, and suppressing a shiver, the healer wrapped his hands around the swollen flesh and sent healing energy into the tendons. Within minutes the warm flesh was mended and Tinuvel released Saelbeth's ankle to the ground, but not before caressing the still bruised flesh a bit longer.

Embarrassed by his lack of self control, Tinuvel simply handed Saelbeth the boot, and stood.

"That should be all that is needed," he replied rather flatly." If you have pain come back and see me." The healer knew that he was being rather curt with his dismissal of the archer, but he was quite afraid of what might come out of his mouth should he allow him to linger.

 

* * * * * * *

Sitting still was not a favorite activity of the young archer. In fact, he positively loathed it. How utterly embarrassing, laying there with his foot propped up on a pillow like some pampered pouffer partaking in a pedicure. Too bad he couldnt feel his toes, much less wriggle them, for they were bound so tightly by Erestor's worried hands. No matter how he had balked, Erestor had insisted on wrapping his ankle and sending him off to bed like some stricken Elfling. Never mind the fact that Saelbeth could limp about fairly well and with very little pain. His foster father would have none of it.

Saelbeth groaned and stared longingly towards the balcony where the sun still shone brightly, the breeze carrying the voices of young Elves practicing their archery skills, whooping like children when a target was soundly struck. And here he was, stuck with a fine view of his bandaged foot and the water pitcher. Could life have been any more thrilling?

A timid knock roused him momentarily from his profoundly pouting state and he grumbled a forlorn, "come in," as he flopped back against the pillow with a dramatic sigh of frustration.

Tinuvel's heart skipped as Saelbeth's voice called back through the door. He had almost hoped that the archer would not be there so he would have no excuse to come in and check on him. Well, at least that what he had conned himself into believing, he was only there to make sure that his friend was in no pain and then he would leave, just like that. Tinuvel sighed......just like that.

Pushing the door open, the healer was struck by the fact that Saelbeth was laid out on his bed, his healed ankle bound tighter than a rind on green cheese. And tunicless at that. Closing the door behind him, the healer sort of hovered near the door, not really entering the room, but not quite far enough form the door to say he wasn't just leaving.

"I ....um.... I just came to see how your ankle was getting on.. I mean you were getting on...It was really quite a bad sprain and well I don't think I was at all very pleasant to you......I am sorry......" Tinuvel continued to natter on, his fingers fidgeting with the healing pouch that hung from his belt.

"Ummm.... Saelbeth.....why is your ankle all trussed up? Do you have pain?" The healer had taken a few steps forward, but was still treating the young Elf as if he had some sort of communicable disease.

"Erestor," Saelbeth groaned, rolling his eyes. Waving his hand about, he mocked in his best authoritative voice, "Saelbeth, you cannot simply go around flinging arrows from all manner of odd angles and expect to maintain your balance!" He cast his foot a disapproving scowl while tossing an imaginary braid over his shoulder. "Look at your ankle, young one! To bed this instant! No, wait. . .let me bind it so tightly that you get absolutely NO blood flow to your toes, then perhaps they shall fall off and you shall trouble me no more with your antics, oh Footless One!"

He gazed helplessly at Tinuvel. "Would you kindly get this thing off of me, mellon-nin? I can barely feel my toenails! Do I even have toenails? I am not sure anymore!"

Tinuvel chuckled to himself. He should have known. Erestor meant well, and really he would be lost without his support and friendship, but he could be a tad over protective. The healer recalled an incident with a sliver in Elrond's hand, that had him quite in a flurry of concern. He had the poor Elf disinfect the wound about a dozen time before he finally conceded that perhaps it was healing properly.

"Of course I will, Sael," Tinuvel agreed, crossing to the far side of the bed, the Elf's joking behavior easing his awkwardness a bit.

He sat on the edge of the bed his fingers gently following the edges of the bindings until they found the knots that secures the wrappings. Deftly, Tinuvel worked at the bandages, focusing all of his attention on the tangles bindings and trying desperately to ignore that fact that he was sitting on Saelbeth's bed while he was inches away and barely clothed.

The healer groaned in frustration at his own in ability to stay focused even upon a task as simple as this. With a tug that was perhaps a bit too hard, the binding snapped beneath his fingers and his fist moved forward and knocked Saelbeth square in the injured ankle. The young Elf's body tensed and he let out a yelp of pain, causing Tinuvel to jump back from him in shock. How could he have been so clumsy? By the Valar, what the heck was wrong with him lately? He didn't seem have control over any aspect of his traitorous body any more.

As Saelbeth's pain echoed thought the room Tinuvel did his best to soothe him.

" Oohhhh, Saelbeth! I am so sorry," he stammered, touching the Elf's leg and then pulling back when he seemed to reel in pain.

"Sael......Ohhh, by the Valar, I am sorry ....!" Tinuvels hands hand made their way to the Elf's arms and then his shoulders.

"I'm sorry....." he repeated, his voice becoming softer as he panted out his apology. " I'm sorry...."

His hand stroked the smooth curve of the archer's cheek. In a voice that was almost inaudible Tinuvel repeated his plea one last time.

"Saelbeth....I'm...I'm..." The healer's words were lost as his mouth closed over the prone Elf's his lips pressed hard in a desperate and very inexperienced kiss.

Pulling back as quickly as he had descended, the healer's eyes widened at his own brazen actions, his breath shallow and panting. Squeezing his eyes shut, for he could not bear to look at the young Elf, Tinuvel began to speak yet another apology when he faltered, his breath leaving him in a shuddered gasp.

Saelbeth cocked his head to one side, running a finger over his bottom lip where Tinuvel's mouth had pressed so wantonly. . . and clumsily. What in all of Arda had just transpired here? Surely Tinuvel had not meant to. . .

One look at his awkwardly fidgeting friend told him otherwise. Yes, he had meant to. And badly. How could Saelbeth have possibly missed such a desire? Usually, such things were of second nature to him. . . and he was quick to pick up on them.

But not with Tinuvel. . .

The healer was beyond mortified. It was bad enough that his body had these urges that he could not seemingly control, but that he had acted upon then in such a shameless way, taking advantage of Saelbeth's pain and infirmity. It was far too bold. He should just get up and walk away, and then hurl himself off the nearest cliff. How could he have done this...?

Saelbeth watched as his friend agonized over what had just transpired. The young healer was clearly embarrassed by his brazenly blundering efforts, sweet though the intention had been. Or had it? A fine sheen of perspiration glistened upon the pale forehead, the dark eyes hauntingly frightened with the newness of this strange desire.

The archer found it hard to believe that his friend had never. . . well. . . certainly he must have. . . hadnt he? After all, Tinuvel was far from unattractive. In fact, he was growing into a stunning specimen of an Elf with his lushly dark hair and compassionately somber eyes. . .not to mention a rather well-toned frame to complete the picture.

With a gentle hand, Saelbeth reached for his friend, threading his fingers lightly through the thick curtain of hair that hid his expression, pushing it aside. His arms slid around the slumped shoulders and he drew the younger Elf against his bare chest, holding him there for a moment, stroking the dark mane reassuringly.

The healer continued to berate himself and in fact was about to rise when Saelbeth's hand came up to tangle gently in his hair. Tinuvel stopped breathing, sure that the young Elf would push him away, bracing himself for the embarrassment. But it never came. Instead he found his body being pulled against the object of his desire and held tightly in the most reassuring of actions. Daring to take a breath, he exhaled, his body relaxing against Saelbeth's chest, the Elf's intoxicating scent of fresh dewed grasses surrounding his senses, drawing him closer.

The nearness of his body seemed to calm the healer somewhat. . . but Saelbeth found it to have a profoundly unexpected affect on his own person. He slipped a hand beneath Tinuvel's chin and tipped the shy gaze to his own.

Languidly, lost in the moment, Tinuvel found himself gazing into his friends eyes of palest blue, ones he had been avoiding before, but now surrendered to.

"Merilin," Saelbeth breathed rather huskily, the raspiness of his own voice surprising him. "Aniron. . ."

Desire??.......yes..... I mean, no...... !! Tinuvel's thoughts battled within his mind, though his body responded to the sentiment with arduous eagerness.

Before the healer could utter a reply from his slightly gaping mouth, Saelbeth silenced it with his own in a tauntingly passionate kiss, his tongue slipping between the full lips enticingly.

The warmest of lips covered his own and in a heated response, one he had kept in denial for quite some time, he pushed back against the exploring mouth, his tongue curling around Saelbeth's in a mirrored reaction. He knew not what he was doing, but simply followed what was being offered to him, and whatever it was, he desired it. With a groan of frustrated pleasure, Tinuvel pressed harder against Saelbeth, trying to assuage his need, but knowing not how to accomplish it.

Saelbeth plundered the young healer's mouth with his tongue relentlessly. Oh, how wonderfully sweet his friend tasted! He could lie within the pale gold of the sun's rays all afternoon and simply kiss Tinuvel, who submitted to him with such innocent ease, so willing and tender. None had compared to the unexpected ardent honey of the healer. And the way Tinuvel rubbed against him. . . as if he desperately needed Saelbeth. . .simply had to have him. . . it was nearly too much for the archer to bear!

A plaintive whimper arose from the healer's throat as he clutched at Saelbeth's shoulders, the archer matching it with a rather lurid sort of purring growl as he pressed Tinuvel against his body, hands snaking beneath the other's tunic to feel the hardening muscles of his flat stomach. The healer emitted a short gasp at the touch of Saelbeth's questing fingers and the pale-haired Elf suddenly wondered if his hands were cold. No matter, the fevered warmth of Tinuvel's young body would chase all manner of chill away quite shortly.

With a traveling hand, Saelbeth crept downward to the laces of Tinuvel's breeches, nimble fingers working deftly to unfurl the leather ties, the tip of one digit slipping beneath the waistband of the other's garment, the knot at last giving in to the calculated manipulations of Saelbeth's touch. His fingers met the nest of moist curls and slid slowly further into the depths of Tinuvel's breeches.

The healer's eyes closed tightly, all his concentration centered upon the feel of the archer moving beneath him. The Elf's body was firm and unyielding to his desperate advance, but that seemed to be a good thing for Tinuvel's body was responding with sensations that he had never dreamed of experiencing while traveling this road to arousal on his own.

And this was no leisurely stroll either. He was barreling down at full speed, barely able to contain the desire that was beginning to swell eagerly between his legs.

And suddenly Saelbeth's hands were in uncharted territory, the muscles of the Tinuvel's belly clenching at the touch of the others exploration. The healer attempted to follow the action with his own hands when he felt the warm fingers broach the top of his breeches.

With a sharp intake of breath he tensed and stilled completely at the unexpected advance, a shiver creeping down his spine and his aroused member jerking against his body in its anticipation. The rush of heat to Tinuvel's groin hit him like a brick wall, and as Saelbeth's hand brushed against his erection he jolted at the intense reaction, his body stiffening in response. It was all too much. He could not do this!

With a jerk of his body, Tinuvel straightened and pulled away from Saelbeth's hand, leaving the Elf wide eyed in surprise. Turning quickly away, the healer tried to hide his obvious arousal, his breathing coming in rasping pants, his eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing pull of his desire.

"Saelbeth...... I cannot.....no.........." Tinuvel's voice was a graveled rasp as he tried desperately to swallow down his lust.

Saelbeth wrung his hands with a sigh. "It's my hands, isn't it? Everyone says they are always so cold. . .I am sorry. . .I should have warmed them first!"

His friend cast him a dubiously confused stare and Saelbeth's befuddlement grew ten-fold. If not his frigid fingers, then what. . . ?

"Tinuvel. . .I do not understand," Saelbeth said, his brow furrowing in the most puzzled of expressions. "Do you not desire me? I thought. . ."

Tinuvel turned back abruptly to face the confused archer. He was getting it all wrong. Holding up his hand to halt any further rationalizing, the healer interrupted Saelbeth's self doubt.

" Tis not you, mellon-nin, "he whispered, his eyes daring to meet the others in a nervous gaze. " And it not for any lack of desire" The healer paused, his next words, though necessary, extremely difficult to utter. " It's just that....." Tinuvel's eyes dropped to his lap, "It's just that I do not know what to do...."

A shuddering breath escaped his chest and the healer felt a bit light headed. What would Saelbeth think of him now?

A look of relief slackened Saelbeth's features and he almost laughed aloud. "So, that is it! You mean it isn't me?" Then, upon the look of utter mortification that crossed Tinuvel's face, he quickly corrected his statement. "Oh. . .merilin. . .no, no. . .I did not mean. . ."

"No my friend," replied Tinuvel with a ghosted smile. " 'Tis not you..." The healer relaxed a bit, the archer's lighthearted response breaking the tension somewhat.

Laying a gentle hand upon his friend's knee, Saelbeth shook his head, rolling his eyes at his own tactless words. "Mordor fires, Tinuvel. . . I had no idea. . .I mean. . .have you. . .?" Saelbeth swallowed, wincing slightly, "Ever? Never? With no one?"

Tinuvel swallowed hard at the touch upon his leg. For some reason, his friend had a hard time understanding his position.

" No....Sael, never..... with no one." Suddenly the healer felt quite inadequate. " I mean well ...It's not like I never wanted to or anything ,,,,,its just that well I've been really busy and......." Tinuvel clenched his hands in frustration " No, Saelbeth I have never done this."

Saelbeth blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment, opening his mouth to speak but then thinking better of it as realization finally granted him the grace of blessed clarity and saved him from further humiliating his friend with obnoxious questioning.

"Forgive me, mellon. . ." Saelbeth said gently, moving to take Tinuvel's hand within his own. "It is just that you are so. . .you are so. . ." Fingers brushed the thick curtain of the healer's hair aside, hooking it behind one tapered ear tip. "You are so beautiful. . .I cannot believe that none have ever. . ."

Silencing himself once more, lest he say something else to remind Tinuvel of his grandiosely blatant idiocracy, he traced a finger along the curve of his friend's jaw.

"I would. . . love to show you how. . .if you will have me," Saelbeth said at last, his touch lingering upon the smooth skin.

Tinuvel felt the blush creeping on before he could stop it. What Saelbeth was offering was indeed gracious and obviously something the healer desired, but did he offer it out of pity for his situation or out of need as well?

"Saelbeth.. are you sure that this task is something you wish to undertake? I am quite sure that I know very little to satisfy you."

The archer smiled gently. "Oh, but you will. . .and how else would one learn? Do you not think that someone once taught me?" He placed Tinuvel's hand upon his bare chest, trailing it downward. "Merilin. . . I do very much desire you. . .and if you will allow me, I shall show you just how much. . . "

The healers eyes never left his friend's, searching them for any signs of trepidation or condescension, but finding only the azure clarity darkening to the color of the twilight sky.
Nervously Tinuvel's fingers flexed against the smooth of Saelbeth's chest, the archer's heartbeat thrumming against the palm of his hand. The healer, though nervous, found it reassuring that the archer's heart beat as heavily as his, for he was quite sure that it
would pound out of his chest as Saelbeth guided his hand down the muscled planes of his body.

The silken smooth of skin met with the courser fabric of breeches and the healer's breathing halted once again as it passed over the leathered stays that housed that which made Saelbeth male. A panic began to gnaw at the healer's belly and his hand tensed, but the archer simply circled his fingers about his palm, his calming gaze assuring him that he was safe and desired.

Tinuvel's finger traveled downward, shyly grazing the heated bulge that strained beneath the confines of Saelbeth's clothing. The archer was most certainly excited. . .there was no doubting that given the swollen state of his arousal. . .

Saelbeth moaned softly as Tinuvel's timid touch sampled his desire with probingly curious fingers. A carefully measured manner of control was required here. . .something that Saelbeth was not particularly used to, for he very much wanted his friend to stroke him without the cover of his breeches. . .and to return the favor himself. But he stilled his passions patiently, savoring the healer's gentle exploration.

After several achingly tense moments, Tinuvel's fingers came to linger upon the ties of his garment, almost as if uncertain as to if he should traverse such unknown terrain, but Saelbeth leaned closer to kiss his lips softly, urging him onward with the aid of his free hand.

The knotwork proved to be annoyingly stubborn for Tinuvel's hand alone and Saelbeth assisted him in the unlacing of his breeches, the leather stays loosening at last, allowing the folds of material they had bound to fall open, revealing a thatch of pale curls reminiscent of the color of the archer's silken mane.

Involuntarily, Saelbeth arched his hips towards the tips of Tinuvel's fingers which now rested just beyond the border of his rather ardent hardness.

"Ooooh. . .Merilin. . .touch me. . .saes. . ." Saelbeth pleaded with a longing sigh, his silvered hair spilling over his shoulders as he tipped his head back with a shuddering pant.


The archers plaintive entreaty made the gnawing in Tinuvel's belly escalate to a shiver that traveled his body and left his arousal twitching against his belly. Watching Saelbeth's face for signs of reassurance, the healer let his fingers tangle within the moist curls, the back of his hand lightly brushing the swollen heat of pale Elf's shaft.

As a healer Tinuvel had had handles many intimate body parts and of course knew the feel of his own erection more than well enough, but this was entirely different. The pulsing heat of the archers arousal against his fingers made his body ache, made him want to touch him more, and not just with his hands.

Boldly, Tinuvel wrapped his slender fingers around the pillared erection as he would his own need, his thumb coming up to circle the dusky plummed head. Saelbeth shivered at his touch, but still did not move, allowing the young healer the chance to explore his body unheeded.

Slowly Tinuvel traced the length of the archer's shaft from base to tip, marveling at how though similar it was to his own, in function and need, it was completely intoxicating to him in form and texture.

"Saelbeth...you are most beautiful," he whispered, sliding his hand along the solid member again.

"As are you. . .Tinuvel," Saelbeth murmured, moaning deep within his throat as the healer slowly stroked him into ever-hardening bliss.

Leaning closer once more, Saelbeth slipped his hands beneath the hem of Tinuvel's tunic.

"I wish to see more of you, meleth. . ." His fingers grasped the edges of the garment, pulling it up and away to reveal the sleek smoothness of Tinuvel's body.

By the Valar, his friend was more exquisite than he ever could have imagined! Had he always been as such? Each muscle was lithely defined into what would grow to be hardened perfection, every curve lean and wiry. A wicked smile curved Saelbeth's lips as he gathered the healer into his embrace, pressing their naked flesh together, his hands roaming over Tinuvel's sides and over his back, caressing and stroking. The feel of Tinuvel's skin was like warmly silken velvet, molding to Saelbeth's every touch. The archer could not resist running his tongue along the pale curve on Tinuvel's throat, tracing the swell of his collarbone, trailing down his chest. The dusky tip of a nipple beckoned to him from the corner of his eye, taunting his roving tongue with its stiffened posture. Saelbeth seized it with a low growl, covering it with his mouth, laving his tongue in heated circles around the dark perimeter before suckling the hardened apex until Tinuvel gasped with pleasure.

Tinuvel soon found that it was one thing to be in control, to be the one touching and caressing, for that derived a certain powerful pleasure, but it was something exquisitely different to be on the receiving end of the touch, to be explored instead of exploring.

The healer could not have prepared himself for the touch of Saelbeth's hands upon his heating flesh, the roughened tips of the archers fingers rasping over skin trailing tingling fire in paths along his body.

With their bodies pressed together, chest to chest, Tinuvel could feel the play of lean muscle against him moving with his movement, creating a different and erotic sensation. Allowing his mind to wander for a brief moment the healer wondered how it would feel to press his whole body against Saelbeth's, to feel all of his lean hardness molded to his.

No sooner had his thoughts honed in on the fantasy of Saelbeth beneath him when a spiral of heated desire spiked through his body. Tinuvel gasped at the moist suppleness of the archer's mouth against his nipple, its smooth slickness laving him into shivering moans of prickling arousal. Only once had he touched himself there in pleasure, but it did not even begin to compare to the delight of his friend's suckling mouth.

Eliciting a growl from his chest, Tinuvel found his hand wrapped in the pale lengths of Saelbeth's hair holding his head steady upon this new discovered delicacy.

At the sound of Tinuvel's rumble of pleasure, Saelbeth fixed his attention upon the other nipple, sucking it into the warm confines of his mouth while thumbing his previous target with a teasing flick just hard enough to steal the breath from the healer's lungs momentarily.

Tinuvel arched against him, his head thrown back, dark hair trailing in serpentine waves past his shoulders. To think what he would do as Saelbeth's touch traveled further down. . .closer. . .

With a rather devious smile, Saelbeth pulled away from the heated embrace, leaning back against the generous mound of pillows and shimmied out of his breeches, tossing them over the side of the bed into an anonymous pile of clothing near the window. He was acutely aware of Tinuvel's blatant assessment of his naked body. . .especially a certain area between his thighs which practically begged for the other's touch, for Tinuvel's hands were so unlike his own. . .smooth and gentle. . .and very practiced.

Certainly, he would enjoy seeing Tinuvel shed the remainder of his garments as well and given the way his friend was looking at him, it would not take much coaxing in the matter. Perhaps he would initiate his desire. . .

One hand reached out, resting upon the partially tied laces of Tinuvel's breeches, slowly untwining the leather stays, his eyes never leaving those of the healer, until the material fell away, the dark hinting curls greeting his questing fingers. This time, Tinuvel did not shy away from his touch, but rather pressed himself boldly against Saelbeth's hand, urging him onward until his fingers met with the heated hardness nestled within the thatch of curls.

Tinuvel's eyes fluttered shut and he held fast to the breath in his lungs. Saelbeth's feather-light touch was almost his undoing. Even though he had anticipated the action his hips thrust forward involuntarily seeking to maximize the contact , and his muscles tensed, their rigid posture intensifying the already toe curling sensations that rippled through his body.


"By the Gods!" Saelbeth exclaimed suddenly, his fingers wrapping around the column of flesh. . . barely.


A small whimper escaped the healer's parted lips as his tongue darted out to moisten tingling flesh. A sudden urge to taste every inch of his friend's body washed over him and the young healer began to lean forward when he was stopped mid movement by Saelbeth's astonished tone.

Fearing the worst, Tinuvel quickly glanced down to the rock hard flesh in the archers grasp. Perhaps he was inadequate or lacking in some way. No wonder he had never done this before. He must be freakish.

" Saelbeth...I.....I'm sorry.........I didn't want to disappoint you..." , he whispered amid panting breaths.

Tinuvel closed his eyes again and swallowed hard, the echo of his pounding heart thrumming in his ears in rhythm to the throbbing between his legs.

Saelbeth's eyes widened in astonishment at his friend's sentiment. "Disappoint.? Oh, no. . .merilin. . .no. . .!" His hand never leaving the healer's rigid member, Saelbeth leaned against Tinuvel's body which fairly trembled beneath his touch.

His free hand threaded through the dark hair gently, his lips finding the softness of the healer's neck and lingering there. "Forgive me, meleth-nin. . . I have chosen my words tactlessly."

The archer's thumb rubbed along the throbbing ridge of Tinuvel's arousal, his touch moistened by the slick pearl of desire that welled from the tip of the proud flesh.

"You are magnificent, meleth. . .beautifully so. . . but I have never noticed how. . ." Saelbeth paused, searching for a term that would not offend. "well-endowed you are," he said at last, his eyes traveling downward with an appreciative smile. "By the sea and stars, you shall be the envy of Imladris with such a . . ." He stopped short, choosing to allow the last thought to remain a mystery as he kissed his way down Tinuvel's chest. . .tongue swirling across each nipple, trailing down the taut stomach, circling his navel. . . "I must taste you, merilin. . . "

Eager lips closed over the impressive arousal, slickening it with warm saliva, tongue laving the underside with a languid wash. . . and then suckling. . .

Tinuvel languished under Saelbeth's touch, his concern over his disappointing physical attributes melting away as the archers beautiful mouth played against his tingling flesh and his hand stoked him gently. No one had ever touched him this intimately before and after a brief moment of adjustment he began to relax.

Tendrils of desire crept up his thighs as his friend's tongue revisited the hardened peaks of his nipples, making him shudder and tremble for want of more....and Saelbeth complied......A warm mouth traveled across his belly and Tinuvel tensed at the oddly erotic sensation, his arousal twitching against the archers fingers in response to his rising passion.

Unable to stifle the moan of pleasure that rose from his chest, the healers head rolled back and his hands gripped Saelbeth's leanly muscled shoulders for support. The archers lips left his belly and Tinuvel panted as soft breath fanned the tip of his erection the cooling sensation making the blood pound in his ears.

Suddenly the most exquisite moist heat surrounded him and Tinuvel's entire world centered upon his groin, all the blood in his body rushing at once to that one destination.

A growl followed by Saelbeth's barely recognizable name fell from the healer's open mouth as his hips thrust forward instinctively burying himself to the hilt into the warm cavern of the archer's mouth.

"Aiya........... Sael....," he rasped, his breath catching as he tried to move against the bedclothes.

Tinuvel dug his nails into his friend's shoulder as the intense throbbing in his groin began to pulse erratically.

"Mmmm" Saelbeth rumbled as Tinuvel's body began to respond wildly to the erotic tickle of his tongue.

The healer's short nails carved crescents of pleasure into his upper body as Saelbeth intensified the suction of his mouth, sliding Tinuvel's entire impressive length past his lips and down his throat, coating him in warm saliva from base to tip. He could feel the desperate twitch of Tinuvel's heat intensifying, building to the height of climactic tolerance before release would overtake him. . .

Steadying himself upon the soft pallet of his bed with both hands, Saelbeth lowered his body closer still until he lay upon his belly, gripping Tinuvel's hips firmly, the thrum of the engorged arousal within the warmth of his mouth escalating to a fervent throb as he massaged the veined flesh sensuously with his tongue.

The rush of his release was upon him before he could fully comprehend his position, and for a split second Tinuvel panicked for he was still buried deep with in Saelbeth's mouth. Desperately he squeezed his eyes shut hoping to stave off the inevitable, but he was beyond the point of no return and the archers did not seem to be giving any signs of slowing down

In fact Saelbeth had settled himself closer, suckling his shaft with such relish that Tinuvel was quite sure the blonde elf was enjoying this as much as he was.

"Sael........Sael!!!!" he warned, his fingers grasping the silken tresses that swept across his friend's shoulders as the sweet pulsing tingles intensified into orgasmic release.

Tinuvel's mouth fell open and his eyes squeezed shut tightly as Saelbeth led him quickly over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure squeezed from the pit of his belly and he felt his face go numb at the intensity of his completion.

The fingers that had tangled the archer's hair flexed and pulled the suckling mouth hard against the spasming root of his desire as he filled it with his essence.

Whimpers of satisfied relief, followed by a shuddering gasp marked the final throes of Tinuvel's release. Relaxing his grip on the archer's hair, the healer slumped forward, his body blushing with a crimson flush.

Licking the remnants of Tinuvel's sweet elixir from his lips, Saelbeth resurfaced with a lop-sided grin, enfolding the panting healing into his embrace and kissing him upon the mouth lingeringly.

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"I could make you cum for me all afternoon, merilin," the young archer said huskily as he drew Tinuvel further into his arms, stroking the dark softness of the healer's hair with one hand as he so often had done in the past. "Stay with me. . . "

Saelbeth curled his body around that of his friend and pulled him gently onto the bed, kissing the full lips tenderly, his tongue tracing their ripened plumpness teasingly.

"Lirimaer," he breathed, one hand trailing across the taut flesh of Tinuvel's stomach, eliciting a tremble of delight from his friend's recovering body. "You are exquisite beyond words. . ."

When he had recovered enough to start breathing again, Tinuvel quickly toed off his boots and squirmed out the twisted fabric of his breeches, letting them slip over the edge of the bed. Though it had been literally only moments since his release, the healer found the press of Saelbeth's mouth to his igniting his desire anew and a craving for the feel of his bare flesh against him.

Tentatively, he let his tongue trace the supple bow of the archer's lips and found he tasted of nothing Tinuvel had ever sampled before. How many times in the last few months had he dreamt of doing such a thing?

Boldly, he entered the mouth that had brought him so quickly to his peak , an intoxicating mix of musk and sweet almond teasing him to explore further.

"Saelbeth....diolla lle...., " he murmured against the smooth column of the archer's neck, his mouth discovering the hollow of Saelbeth's ear, and delighting in the shivering reaction.

" Mmmmmm, mellon-nin.....tell me there is more.. .tell me we can do more....," he breathed , burying his face in the fragrant froth of the blonde elf's hair.

Saelbeth wrapped his arms around Tinuvel once more, his hands sliding over the warmth of the healer's naked body to cup the firmed roundness of his buttocks.

"Aye, melethron. . .there is more. . . much more. . ." Saelbeth purred, the hardness of his arousal pressing solicitously against the other's thigh. "But first. . . kiss me. . ."

Tinuvel wasted no time, pressing his mouth to the archers is an a most eager manner. Small moans slipped from between his parted lips as he devoured Saelbeth's mouth even chancing to nip the plump flesh in his attempt to taste him fully.

Exploring fingers wandered experimentally over the finely muscled expanse of Saelbeth's chest circling a pert dusky nipple with a tentative stroke. The archers shivering response brazened his actions and plucking the hard nub between his fingers he rolled it, delighting as Saelbeth's hips came up to meet his. Aroused by the reaction, Tinuvel did his best to deepen the kiss ,silencing the archer's rumbling pleasure sounds with a bold sweep of his tongue.

Already his body had recovered and his revived erection rubbed deliciously against the archers thigh with every press of their bodies. Tinuvel shuddered at the heat that was building from even this glancing of stimulation and broke the kiss with a panting gasp as the most intimate of aroused flesh met with a subtle shift of a grinning Saelbeth.

"Mmmm how quickly you learn, merilin. . ." Saelbeth purred, marveling at the suddenly sensual way Tinuvel's lips had pressed against his own.

With a wandering hand, Saelbeth found his fingers curling around Tinuvel's newly aroused organ once more and stroking. The archer smiled at the low moan of delight that escaped the dark healer's plump lips as his roving hand delved further, cupping the twin orbs between the eagerly parted thighs while he manipulated them with an expertly erotic roll of his palm.

"Beautiful," Saelbeth breathed, leaning closer to capture the ripe redness of Tinuvel's mouth, tongue plundering the moist cavern with languid exploration, savoring the delicacy of wanton heat that lingered there.

The explorative tongue curved to taste the defined jawline, traveling down..trailing across the taut stomach, laving past the erect hardness that practically begged for his touch and into. . .

"Ooooh.my.! Sael!" Tinuvel squirmed as the archer's tongue met with most uncharted of territories.

A rather tittering giggle escaped him followed by an unexpected prickle of gooseflesh. "Ooooh, by the Valar.that. . .feels.sooo.aaaahh! Tickles!"

Saelbeth glanced up from between his friend's legs with an impish smirk. "It is supposed to. . ." he assured him with a wink. "Now, shall I have to hold you down?"

"Do not stop. . ." Tinuvel said, grasping a handful of the flaxen hair that draped over his thigh.

The erotic massage of Saelbeth's tongue suddenly evoked a new sensation and the healer's wiggling ceased, tingles of carnal warmth creeping through his groin, igniting a fire of different nature that he never would have guessed could come from such stimulation.

The icy blue of Saelbeth's gaze peeked from behind the dark nest of curls as Tinuvel writhed from the touch of his mouth. Soon, he would be ready. . .

"Sael. . " Tinuvel panted, gripping the sides of the blond elf's head. "I need. . .I need. . ."

Well, he was not exactly certain of just what he needed, only that he must have it. . .and that only Saelbeth could deliver him to its source.

"What do you need, Merilin?" Saelbeth asked, hand sliding to grip the pillar of flesh that stood in hardened perfection before him.

Hips arched into the provocative hand almost demandingly. "I need. . ." Gods, he did not know what he needed! "You," Tinuvel said at last. "I need. . .you. . .Sael. . .you. . ."
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A strange fluttering within his chest thrummed to a peak at the quietly spoken admission. "And I you, Tinuvel. . ." Saelbeth murmured, leaning to capture the lush softness of the young healer's lip with his own once more.

One hand traveled the length of Tinuvel's thigh as the other groped for the phial of oil that Erestor had been massaging into Saelbeth's injured foot earlier. Amber. The scent was warm, inviting. Palming a generous amount, he slickened his nearly aching arousal thoroughly, for he wanted to make certain that his lover-to-be felt nothing but sheer pleasure. He had always protected Tinuvel. . . watched over him from a distance even if his friend had not known it, and this moment was certainly no exception.

Tinuvel watched with detached desire as Saelbeth slowly slickened his arousal with scented oil. He wanted the archer to take him more than anything at this very moment, but he was also aware of the discomfort that would proceed such an act. He was not innocent of the mechanics of lovemaking between males, he had just simply never experienced it himself.
Apprehension nipped at his belly as his lover and friend eased himself between his thighs his legs raising of their own accord to wrap around the archer's waist.


He spread the Elf's legs with his hands and nestled himself there, pressing the tip of his hardness against Tinuvel's rounded backside.

"Relax, meleth-nin. . .just breathe. . ." Saelbeth whispered, stroking the dark hair with infinite tenderness, his gaze never leaving the ebon pools of Tinuvel's eyes, for he felt as if his very soul could drown within their depths.

So warm. . so trusting. . .so. . .

"Ooooh. . .merilin.!" Saelbeth groaned headily as he penetrated the exquisite tightness of his lover's body, his own shuddering in response.

Every shred of his control went into resisting the urge not to sink himself to the hilt within the taut confines of the healer who breathed heavily beneath him. Grasping a handful of Tinuvel's hair, he panted, "By the Gods, it is all I can do not to take you fiercely. . .you make me ache for you, meleth. . ."


At the first touch of untried tightness, Tinuvel tensed and hitched his breath only to let it go in a rushed sigh as Saelbeth assured and soothed him gently. The healer focused on the fathomless blue of his lover's eyes and found the understanding and gentleness that radiated from them a beacon to cling to as his body was breached.

Desperately, he forced himself to stay in control, but succumbed to the painful pressure that despite Saelbeth's tempered advance, pricked tears of discomfort to leak from behind his now tightly closed eyes.

" Ohh,,,,,,,,,, Saelbeth....." he panted, his voice cracking with the intensity of the new sensation.

The healer's rapid and shallow breaths had made him lightheaded and consciously he concentrated on stilling their erratic measure.

Breathe..........slowly......in.........out.........relax.....


Tinuvel was not sure of the exact moment that the pain had turned to pleasure, but he soon became aware that his moans of discomfort had become sighs of pleasure. A sensation akin to a succumbing to a fire that begun to rage deep within his belly began to spread quickly to his thighs and groin coaxing his hips to rock in counterpoint to his lover's movement.

The healer opened his eyes and was struck by the intense desire that reflected back from Saelbeth's cobalt gaze. This was indeed a joining of more than just his body, it was a melding of passion and need. Reaching up, he stroked the flushed cheek of his lover and drew him close to his parted lips.

" Love me, Saelbeth.... saes........" he murmured as he drew the archer deeper inside with a tightening of his legs.

Saelbeth shivered deliciously within the wanton embrace of Tinuvel's inner heat as his hand slid between the eagerly waiting thighs, fingers wrapping tightly around the rigid column of flesh that begged for his touch and squeezed.

The healers body trembled at the sudden intensity of his surrender to the archer's touch. Warm flutters of heat filled his core and even after the sweet tendrilling pulses of pleasure subsided to a mere delicious throb, he moaned in ecstasy against the press of his lovers body.


A long, sighing moan issued forth from the panting healer as Saelbeth began to stroke him in tandem with his thrusts, the pulsing tingle within his groin snaking sinuously to his belly where it writhed with erotic tenacity. The sweet sound of Tinuvel's eager whimpers would be his undoing!

"Tinu. . .I. . ." Saelbeth's breathing became erratic as he bent into the thrust that he knew would send him tumbling over the edge. "I. . I. . .cannot. . . oooooohh!"

The healer's name spilled from his lips in a languid moan, over and over as he crashed into the abyss of a pleasure he had never known with another, his hand never once losing its rhythm as he coaxed his lover into climax, Tinuvel's body convulsing with the intensity of the release as Saelbeth collapsed onto his chest, spent and panting.

Tinuvel remained silent, for words could not express the maelstrom of desire that gathered in his chest. He had shared something with Saelbeth that none had ever laid claim to before and the rush of raw need that accompanied the intense feelings broke down his usual stoic tendency and threatened to overcome him with emotion.

"Saelbeth...." The healer managed a breathy sigh, his lover's name falling from his lips to become buried within the flaxen froth of the archer's luxuriant mane.

"Merilin. . ." Saelbeth murmured, nestling his head against the dusky shoulder. "Thank you. . ."

" Melethron....diola lle......" Tinuvel shuddered as the body bliss continued to wash over his still sensitive skin.

The archer had filled more than his lustful body with his essence, he had marked Tinuvel for all eternity as his lover. Even if this act was never repeated again, it would follow him throughout his life.

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