Questions And Answers

Leather, boiled to hardness, and daily oiled with animal fat had a scent all its own. The smell was deep and musky and somehow distinctly masculine. Years of sunshine and rain added its own subtle undertones of wide open spaces and grassy plains. The man who wore it contributed his own unique scent. The leather gleamed darkly, almost wetly, in the torch light. The scowling warrior who wore it seemed to Faramir to spring from the dusty plains that had given him birth. Even his hair spoke of sunburned prairie grasses. And his eyes, those deep set eyes, were the color of fresh-tilled earth and deeper than a mountain well.

Faramir shifted and adjusted his robes, robes made lose by illness and fatigue. Too many years fighting an enemy who seemed undefeatable and followed by a brush with the Witch-King had left its mark on the new Steward of Gondor. Well, too, did the steward recognize his own failings and short-comings. “Eomer,” he cleared his throat once more and tried again to focus on what he wanted to say to this young man who was now king of the Horse Lords.

For his part, Eomer, King of the Rohirrim, forced his gaze from the floor. The room in which he sat was austere, but remained comfortable in it’s own way, with its tapestries and rugs and brazier. They sat before the smoking charcoal in tall carved chairs, a bottle of wine between them. “Don‘t say it, please,” his voice was hoarse, but not from fatigue or illness as Faramir’s was, but with a suppressed desire. The moment he set eyes upon Faramir watching from the city walls for the returning army, he’d longed to run his fingers through the red-gold curls.

Glancing down at his laced fingers, Faramir felt his face flush darkly at the interruption. Of course both men knew why they were here. An alliance between Rohan and Minas Tirith strengthened by blood was desired by all concerned. Eowyn was the perfect candidate and Faramir did not object. At least he hadn’t until he’d set eyes on Eomer. Clearly, Eomer, too, felt the attraction. Between them existed a palpable stirring that they’d not been able to ignore. “Eomer,” Faramir began again. “We cannot sit here ignoring what lies between us while we discuss my marriage to your sister. We must either put it from us completely or confront it.”

Straight brows lowered over the dark eyes and deepened the frown line over the bridge of the nose. “Then let us confront this and be done with it,” he growled.

The less impetuous of the two checked his hear-felt sigh. “Is it so easy as that? I desire you and I feel your desire for me. It is said. Do we move forward now? Is it enough to speak of these things aloud?”

“What would you have me do?” Eomer leapt from his seat and paced a tight circle around the brazier. “Should I stand before my sister and say to her you cannot bind yourself to the man…that man...”

The hesitation was there and Faramir heard it. He smiled. “Am I that man, Eomer?”

The Horse Lord stopped pacing and placed his hands on the back of Faramir’s chair. “You know that you are. What shall you do now that I have spoken your heart’s hope aloud?”

Faramir twisted around in his seat and stared over his shoulder at Eomer. “I know what I would like to happen from here, yet my heart quells at such a thing. For even if our minds and hearts agree, there is another to consider and my conscious will not allow me to play her false. Will yours?”

Lowering his head, Eomer touched his forehead to Faramir’s head. “I would not see her hurt in such a way twice. It is cruel.”

Faramir reached up and twined his fingers in Eomer’s hair. “This is cruel, Eomer.” He lowered his hand with a sigh. “I know what it is to crave love you cannot have. I would not have the three of us go through such heartache. I have no answer for the questions we have asked.”

“There is only one answer, Faramir,” Eomer caressed Faramir’s shoulders. “I cannot give my blessings to the union between you and Eowyn. I cannot let you go.”

Eomer’s armor creaked as he moved and Faramir was aware of every move the Rohirrim made. Faramir watched Eomer move around to stand before him. “I do not wish to be released.”

Kneeling, Eomer did not take his eyes from Faramir, as he ran his hands over robed thighs. The material bunched in his fists as he pulled the robe aside. Beneath the robe, Faramir wore leggings and the crotch was already tightening in response to Eomer’s touch. Slowly, the Horse Lord lowered his head and rubbed his face against the growing bulge.

Faramir laid his head back against the chair and curled his fingers in the heavy blond hair. The warm breath on his aching cock felt exquisite and he grew even harder.  He slid further down in his seat, opening his legs wider. His hands pressed Eomer’s head harder against him.

The Horse Lord ran his tongue along his lover’s cock, rubbing the fabric roughly over the stiff muscle. He rocked forward on his knees as Faramir scooted down and began ripping at the laces binding the breeches closed. He used his tongue and fingers to pull open the clothing, releasing Faramir’s cock into his eager mouth. He licked the head, pushing his tongue tightly against the slit and grunted softly as Faramir’s nails dug into his scalp. His palms cradled the Steward’s balls as he opened his mouth wide and slowly took all of Faramir’s length into his mouth. Slowly his head bobbed as he sucked Faramir, running his tongue continuously up and down the throbbing vein. He tasted Faramir’s essence on his tongue and swallowed greedily, desperately needing more.

“I cannot take much more of this sweet torture,” Faramir said as he arched his hips. “Please, Eomer, I need you inside me.”

The soft pleading of Faramir’s voice brought Eomer back to his sense. He lifted his head and stared into the grey-green eyes of his lover. Reaching down between them, he pulled the laces on his own breeches and shoved them down around his hips. His throbbing cock brushed against the chair leg as he leaned back to allow Faramir to shove down his own breeches. Faramir kicked away his breeches and Eomer harshly grabbed his thighs and pushed them back and up and stared at the puckered opening, pink and tight, hidden there. Lowering his head, he scraped the sensitive inner skin with his beard as his full lips touched the tight muscle. He poked his tongue out and touched the fine ridges briefly before entering Faramir’s body.

Faramir held on to the chair arms as Eomer’s tongue thrust slowly in and out of him. The hot breath and warm tongue on his intimate place drove him to distraction and his heart thudding in time with his panting. His cock leaked precious fluid against his thigh and Eomer’s hair tickled his balls.

Eomer felt the muscle relax as Faramir’s body accepted the invasion. With one last swipe of his tongue, Eomer rose to his feet and held his erection steady as he placed it against the opening. He felt the muscles give slowly and heard Faramir’s breath hitch.

Faramir draped his legs over the Horse Lord’s shoulders and tried to force his breathing to steady as his lover pushed inexorably forward, breaching him fully so that he was stretched beyond any thing he’d ever experienced before. The smell of leather grew stronger as Eomer leaned forward, steadying himself on the chair.

“You’re unbelievably tight,” he whispered into the red-gold curls. “So hot. So good.”

Clutching the leather-clad arms, Faramir whimpered and wriggled beneath his lover as Eomer’s cock stroked over his inner nub. “Hurry, hurry,” he begged.

Moving slowly at first, Eomer sought to prolong the sweet pleasure, letting the exquisite friction build between them. His cock burned and throbbed and Faramir’s inner muscles clenched and unclenched tightly around him. His muscles trembled from the force of holding himself back even as Faramir’s urgent whispers pleaded for him to move faster. He still refrained until strong teeth sank deeply into his neck. With a loud growl, Eomer withdrew all the way to the head and then slammed back in so hard that the chair rocked precariously, saved from tipping over only by the death grip he maintained. He arched back as Faramir cried out, his voice echoing on the stone walls despite the heavy tapestries. The leather armor creaked softly and the chair squeaked against the floor. Faramir mewled and thrashed his head helplessly as Eomer pounded into him again and again, striking the secret part of him relentlessly. With a gasp and cry, Eomer stiffened as he spilled himself deep inside Faramir.

Feeling his climax building, Faramir held Eomer’s arms tightly and his heels kicked against the Horse Lord’s shoulder blades as he struggled to thrust against his lover. He’d never been penetrated so deeply or so thoroughly and he could not get enough of it. His cock bounced against this thigh, trailing silvery threads of pre-cum. He could feel Eomer, every inch of him, as he thrust harder and harder. His opening was stretched beyond endurance and still he cried out for more; begged for more. He climbed higher and higher and then, suddenly, he plunged as his seed washed over his thigh and splattered Eomer’s leather breastplate. Faramir’s cry echoed Eomer’s as they climaxed together.

Sometime later, they lay sprawled on Faramir’s bed. They’d removed their clothing and were draped atop one another, replete with a second round of love-making. Faramir ran his hands through the thick hair that so reminded him of sun-scorched grasses on wind-swept plains.  Eomer snuggled deeper into Faramir’s chest and closed his eyes to sleep and dream.

~*~ End ~*~