“How did this even happen?” Elrond asked as he sat in his study with Legolas, completely unable to understand it.
“Well, it all started after we left Gondor together after the wedding celebrations.” He paused, seeming to understand it was still very close and painful for Elrond, who took a sip of the cordial he had poured for them both.
“I was going back to Eryn Lasgalen, and he said he would accompany me. We kept running into rogue bands of orcs on the way north. We were taking our time, having a bit of fun together.”
“Normal fun!” Legolas said at Elrond's raised eyebrow.
Elrond nodded. Legolas looked at him with a strange, guilty expression. “I don't know why it happened. Might have just been the way we were sharing the one horse, because I swear I never even thought of him in that way. But one day we were riding together, just like always, and I... Well, I was quite sure he could feel it.” Legolas groaned.
“It was horrible. I knew I was going to have to take care of it, and I was about to suggest we stop for a break,” Legolas said.
“Yes. That would be the best way to deal with it,” Elrond noted, slightly amused. “It's what I would have done.” Legolas gave him a quick, humourless smile. He held out his glass, and Elrond poured him a little more of the Miruvor. He'd thought it appropriate for this confidence. For them both. He sipped at his own as Legolas continued.
“So, I was about to suggest it. But then, he started talking...”
“Oh, it's a shame, Legolas. A real shame,” said Gimli.
Legolas, who was unsuccessfully trying to control the horse, and keep his erection from poking Gimli in the back, was a little distracted. “What is?”
“I'm sure it's a great compliment from one of your kind, and I like you, lad. Really, I do. But you're not enough for me.” He reached back and patted Legolas on the thigh, hard. Legolas supposed it was meant to be comforting. Or worse, consolation.
“Not enough?” Legolas echoed faintly, his embarrassment forgotten in his shock.
“We should stop, and you can take yourself off somewhere and see to it. Find some nature to 'commune' with or whatever it is you do.”
“No,” Legolas said, even though that is exactly what he'd been planning to suggest. Well, not the 'communing with nature' part, but at least the privacy. He was feeling annoyed, especially since the way Gimli was speaking wasn't making his problem go away. In fact, it was getting rather worse now that his friend had acknowledged it. “We carry on, we can make Rohan by nightfall,” he said, his voice cold.
“Oh, don't be all prudish now, Legolas,” Gimli said gruffly. “We've killed too many enemies together. See that boulder over there? We'll stop and I'll make a fire while you knock it out. Then we'll have a bite to eat.”
“Knock it out?!” Legolas said, feeling somewhat insulted by the crude language. “And what exactly do you mean by 'not enough'?” Legolas quoted.
Whenever Gimli sighed, even in normal circumstances, it sounded like a growl. He sighed now, and the sound seemed to speak directly to Legolas' erection. He swallowed, and geed up their horse, tapping his heels against the horse's flanks, which unfortunately had the effect of making his hips thrust against Gimli.
“Well, see, I like something a bit more substantial,” he said, and Legolas shook his head in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. “Like a good strong ale, or a meaty stew. But you...” He drew in a breath through his teeth and shook his head as Legolas began to wonder how satisfying it would be to run Gimli through with his sword. His real sword. And still, the regular rhythm of the horse beneath them was tormenting him so much that he almost sighed in pleasure.
“You're a bit like a lollipop,” Gimli said finally. Legolas was rendered speechless for a moment.
“A lollipop,” he repeated, stunned. He was a lollipop?!
“Aye. You know, I'm sure I could lick and suck on you all day,” Gimli deliberated, “and I've no doubt you'd taste really nice, but... ultimately, I just couldn't make a decent meal out of you, lad.”
Legolas made a strange sound that was a mixture of anger, lust and amusement. He pulled on the reins to make the horse stop. “You're teasing me!” he managed eventually.
“Bit slow on the uptake,” Gimli noted under his breath as they dismounted.
Legolas looked at him. Actually, looked down at him. Gimli was not intimidated. He nodded at Legolas' groin. “Off you go, then!” he taunted. Legolas narrowed his eyes.
“No,” he said, and threw down a blanket from the pack before reclining back on it. “I'm fine right here,” he announced, and deliberately began to untie the laces of his leggings.
“You didn't! Why?” Elrond asked, and Legolas sighed.
“He'd made me angry, and even then I was still angry. And by the time I thought about what I was doing, it was too late to back out.” He frowned. “You don't know how... competitive he is.”
“So you decided to do it there and then. What did he do?” Elrond asked, sure he wasn't going to like the answer, whatever it was.
“What do you think he did?” Legolas took a largish sip of the cordial. “He watched.”
“What do you think he did?” Legolas took a largish sip of the cordial. “He watched.”
The anger he felt lasted just long enough for Legolas to get comfortable, sprawled out on the blanket, back resting against the rock, weapons on the ground beside him. He sniffed slightly, indignant, and put his left hand behind his head, while with his right he stroked himself up and down, slowly.
Gimli uttered perhaps the dirtiest laugh Legolas had ever heard, in nearly three thousand years on Arda. He steeled himself against it and refused to look Gimli's way. He concentrated, raising his left knee a bit, letting his fingers squeeze just so, while his eyes flicked down past his chin to look at himself as if to check on it.
That laugh again, or half of one anyway. Legolas tried to ignore it, and became deliberately nonchalant. The only trouble with that being it was suddenly impossible for him to get himself off. There is no such thing as a indifferent orgasm, and Legolas soon came to know it. The time passed, and he could hear his own palm, rubbing over his skin. Again and again. Faster. Slower. Endless.
It wasn't working, and yet his erection refused to die down too. It was like being stuck in the worst no-win situation in the world. Ever. Legolas sighed quietly.
“Need a hand, laddie?” came Gimli's voice, deeply amused, and Legolas looked right out into the empty green land before them, letting the colour of it flood into his mind, until he realised he might actually be “communing with nature” and shook his head.
“I do not require anything,” he said eventually, his voice like ice, and carried on touching himself, as if going at it for this long was the most natural thing in the world. Gimli didn't know elves, after all. But it was hopeless.
He sensed rather than saw Gimli's attention move away from him, and he almost relaxed. But then, despite himself he peered over to see what the dwarf was busy with. Legolas' hand fell still. Even though he felt like he might get actually somewhere now he was not being observed, he just couldn't continue.
“What are you doing?” he demanded harshly, somewhat alarmed by what he saw, and Gimli groaned happily as he opened his breeches to free himself. He too was leaned against the rock, seated at a slightly different angle.
“Well, I'll allow you're very pretty, Legolas, and I thought at least one of us should get something out of your, um, little problem. Why not me?” Gimli turned his head to look at Legolas for a moment. “Such a good show.” He nodded to the side in a way that suggested a wink. “Seems a waste otherwise!”
“It is not little!” Legolas said, looking quickly away before he could see, insulted all over again as he picked up on the word, put there deliberately he had no doubt. Along with 'pretty' and 'show' too.
“Hmm...” Gimli groaned, getting comfortable, probably ignoring him, and doing a much better job of it than Legolas had. He sneaked another look, and his eyes widened a little this time when he saw just what the dwarf was currently handling.
“Al-Valar!” he breathed to himself. “How is that even fair?”
At this point, Elrond interrupted again, slightly alarmed but also morbidly curious, wanting to be absolutely clear on what Legolas was telling him. “Wait. Do you mean to tell me he is –” Big. Huge. Endowed. All of those words suddenly seemed like expletives. Elrond cleared his throat. “That it was...”
As if they were sharing a thought, Elrond followed Legolas' gaze, and he found himself staring at the bottle of cordial. Not even nearly as large as a wine bottle, nevertheless it was much bigger in girth and length than anything he'd ever faced. Surely it wasn't. Not like that. Not really –
“Challenging,” Legolas confirmed quietly, looking down.
“I don't think it is just him either,” he intoned gravely. “I think they are all like that.”
“Really?” Elrond said, feeling rather boneless all of a sudden. It was a kind of fascination he could live without, yet at the same time he just couldn't help himself. “And... have you,” he paused, then reworded it. “Has he taken you?”
“Of course.” There was a little defiant anger in Legolas' eyes as he looked up, just a flash, as if he suspected his teacher, lover and friend wasn't taking all of this seriously enough.
“I see,” Elrond said quickly. Legolas' gaze softened as if he knew the question Elrond longed to ask, as if he were just waiting to be asked it. “And, how does it...”
“Ai, Elrond!” he said, looking away, and then the following sentences flowed from him as if he gained a kind of relief in sharing it. “Even if I could describe it, you would not understand or believe me. When he is in me, I cannot think of anything else. Sometimes, I think I forget that I live, and breathe. Sometimes, he has to remind me to do those things.”
When Legolas had finished, he looked back at Elrond, and then raised an eyebrow in an uncanny imitation of Elrond himself.
“Oh, he finds that very amusing too,” Legolas said coolly, seeing the way Elrond looked at him. “Shall I continue?”
“I think you must,” Elrond said, and realised they were both empty. He picked up the bottle of miruvor, and couldn't help noting its proportions in his hand. He swallowed. “Refill?” he asked weakly.
“Legolas...” Gimli said, on a kind of growling breath.
“Huh?” Legolas replied, dazed, unable to look away. Gimli was enormous.
“Trying to gauge if it'll fit?” he asked, nodding forward.
Legolas shut his mouth with a snap, brought back to himself so that he looked up and away. He didn't want to look back down. Could not. At last, he registered the taunt, and he narrowed his eyes a little. Two could play at that. Gimli had been winning this one from the start. Legolas tilted his head slightly.
“Trying to imagine what it feels like to have over two thousand years of experience wrapped around it?” he asked. Gimli's eyes widened, and Legolas opened his mouth. He didn't flicker his tongue. That kind of thing was beneath him. No. He curled and undulated his tongue so that the muscle appeared to ripple in a series of constantly moving waves.
When the dwarf saw that he swore, and at first Legolas didn't realise what had happened, until he saw Gimli trying to clean up his own mess.
“Legolas! That wasn't nice,” Gimli complained. It gave Legolas a nice warm sensation, and he smirked, laughing, finally turning away to lean back against the rock.
“One to me. That makes us even, I think,” he said when he could finally speak.
“Then what happened?” Elrond asked, leaning forward. Legolas gave him a strange look.
“Nothing. Well, not for a week or so anyway. We were killing orcs. Life was good. He was on sixty-seven. I was on sixty-eight.”
“Really?” Elrond said, confused by the numbers. Legolas sighed.
“Look! I was definitely winning. He cheats all the time anyway.”
Elrond nodded, deciding to just let it go.
“So we came upon this band of them, and we got almost all of them down before they even realised what was going on. It wasn't even a challenge, until one of them jumped me...”
To be continued...
Author's Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you are enjoying it. :)