Haldir paced restlessly within Glorfindel's chambers in a huff as the golden Lord stretched upon the bed, clad only in a rather clingy verdant robe. . . and nothing more.
"I tell you, this one would have had it coming if I would have knocked him to the ground with my bare hands," Haldir growled, smacking his fist into the palm of his hand.
Glorfindel lolled his head lazily to one side, flaxen hair dangling over the edge of the coverlet. "Meleth, you mustn't let him get to you. Such is Erestor. He is much like yourself, my love. Taking what he wants regardless of consequence. . .and apparently, it is you that he desires."
Haldir stopped short and cast Glorfindel a rather sarcastic smirk. "Thank you for your vote of confidence, meleth-nin," he said sardonically before resuming his brooding stalk from one end of the room to the other.
"Haldir," Glorfindel said, "do stop that, for I fear you shall wear a groove into the floor."
The archer sauntered over to the bed of his lover and flopped down beside him with a heavy sigh, allowing Glorfindel to cradle him against his chest in a gesture of warm affection, the golden Lord's long fingers threading through his silvery locks with blissfully delicious tenderness.
"Awww," Glorfindel purred, his hand slipping beneath Haldir's tunic to rub the taut stomach, "he has got your quite undone, has he not?"
"Mmmmmph," Haldir mumbled into the silken falls of Glorfindel's richly gold tresses, burying his face in the soft hair with a deep inhalation, the warm scent of amber wafting to greet his senses.
The hands of the golden Lord roamed over the curve of Haldir's hips, sliding beneath the waistband of his breeches and resting there momentarily before delving further, fingers lingering upon the thatch of hair between Haldir's thighs, twirling the nearest curls with a suggestive tickle of fingertips. A soft moan escaped the March Warden's lips as he curled his body into the beckoning massage of Glorfindel's skilled hand, his hardness swelling at once to proudly stiff attention, pressing demandingly against the soft leather of his breeches. Only Glorfindel could bring him such swift and certain arousal, for never would Haldir submit to anothers advances with such ardent haste. The probing fingers of the golden Elf wound lower still, wrapping intently around Haldir's already throbbing member and squeezing rather commandingly, eliciting a lustful groan from the March Warden as he arched further into Glorfindel's capable grasp, thoughts of the dark one known as Erestor temporarily forgotten.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
From the end of the hallway, Erestor heard it. The sounds of heated and passionate love making. . . the March Warden of Lorien's exquisite groan of pleasure rising above that of Glorfindel. The mere thought of the Galadhrim, naked and writhing beneath the touch of another sent Erestor into a myriad of deviously delicious plots, none of which involved clothing. Having sampled the ardor of Glorfindel's magnificent body himself, Erestor was well aware of just what those healing hands could do to one's sexual appetite.
He drew closer to the room that housed the amorous pair, cocking an ear and listening with unabashed pleasure, a leering smirk curving his lips. One finger traced a path along the worn wood of the door that separated him from the fervent calls of desire and he leaned closer still, pressing his cheek to the coolness of the mahogany timber, one hand snaking beneath his robes to rub himself lewdly through the velvety leather of his breeches. Glorfindel's sweetly melodic voice rose and fell betwixt Haldir's rasping grunts of passion, for he was no doubt, seducing the March Warden with the honeyed lilt as he had done so many years ago with Erestor. Only Glorfindel could spawn such abandon with intonation of words alone and Erestor found himself caught within the lulling flow of endearments, a soft moan escaping his lips as the questing hand found its way beneath his garment, meeting with the warmth of his bulging hunger. Stroking himself into engorged hardness, he squeezed the tip of his erection with a pinching twist, gasping at the self-inflicted mix of pleasure and pain, his swollen member throbbing eagerly in response. How Erestor longed to do the same to Haldir. . .perhaps while Glorfindel looked on. . . bound and gagged, of course. . .
Releasing his arousal from the confines of its leather prison, Erestor gripped himself with a demanding downward jerk, tugging the heated flesh forward with expertly nimble fingers, spreading the viscous fluid that seeped from his rigid tip over the pulsating hardness.
From behind the forbidden barrier of wood, Haldir's song of passion crescendoed and faded as Glorfindel's winsome declarations melded with the soaring cries of the March Warden.
"Aiya. . .annniiiirrrooonn. . ." Erestor panted under his breath, sliding his fierce grip upon his slickened longing with demanding pulls, palming the end with a twisting stroke that ensured complete coverage of his lurid actions.
Leaning against the stone wall for support, Erestor shuddered as the throb of his impending release swelled tauntingly beneath the wanton caress of his lascivious fingers. Haldir's purring moan escalated into a fervid gasp of climactic pleasure, his lusty outcry rending the night air. Erestor convulsed with a heaving twitch, his breath spiking into short, labored grunts as the sticky heat of his obscene excursion surged into his cupped hand while Glorfindel's aria of delectation sang out to harmonize with Haldir's ardent inflections of passion.
Grasping a nearby table for support, Erestor withdrew a silken cloth from the folds of his fitted robe and wiped the glimmering remnants of his release from his fingers before continuing to his own chambers as if nothing had transpired but the elatedly devious grin that now encompassed his pliant lips.
