第 91 页

“I have never heard of someone orgasming from gratification.”

“No,” agreed Finrod, “I will likely orgasm from stroking myself as I suck you off.”

Curufin gaped at him. He could find absolutely no words to respond to this.

Finrod smiled crookedly. “Was that last bit too much?”

Curufin cleared his throat. “Ah, no. Just not what I expected.” He knit his hands together before him. “So you would. You would go down on me. And touch yourself. You don’t mind that I can’t…” He bit the inside of his cheek, hating those two words. “…that I can’t do it back to you?”

Finrod shook his head. “I don’t mind that at all, Curvo.” He bent forward and cupped Curufin’s face between his hands. “And I won’t even mind if you tell me you don’t want to do this, either. I entirely understand that some things that I find pleasurable might not feel that way to you, and I will not be offended if you don’t want me to do this at all.”

“No,” said Curufin honestly. “No, we can do it.” It was not something he would have ever considered on his own, but he found he liked the idea of doing something for Finrod. He hadn’t spent much time thinking about relationships, but he knew something about balance, and the idea of meeting Finrod somewhere in the middle appealed to him. And he couldn’t deny the whole thing was intriguing, in a slightly abstract way. “I am curious.”

Finrod laughed, warm and tender at the same time. “It is one of the things I love about you,” he said, and kissed Curufin before Curufin could draw in a breath and a question about whether he’d heard Finrod correctly, “your curiosity.”

Curufin did not like putting things off; he had never been accused of being a procrastinator. So he pulled Finrod down on top of him, kissing him back, and Finrod settled easily above him, kissing his lips, his throat, the exposed lines of his collar bone.

“You know, I wasn’t suggesting that we have to do this now,” Finrod murmured into his neck. “We don’t have to rush in.”

“Why not now?”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“Well, then.” Finrod slowly slid down Curufin’s body, pushing up his shirt to lay a gentle kiss to the planes of Curufin’s belly, and lower, brushing against the waistband of his jeans. “How is this?” he murmured. “Too fast?”

Curufin shook his head. “No.” He could feel his body responding to Finrod’s touches, and though his primary emotion was still curiosity and some apprehension, he decided to let his body take the lead in this. “You can go further.”

Finrod unbuttoned Curufin’s jeans and slid them slowly over his hips, watching his exposed skin with an expression in his eyes that Curufin couldn’t quite place. He rather thought it was something like reverence, a notion that both shocked and warmed him. Finrod laid more kisses to the points of Curufin’s hips, sliding his shorts down along with his jeans, and Curufin pulled in a sharp breath and said, “Just do it already.”

Finrod looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You can tell me to stop anytime,” Finrod said, by now familiar words. “There’s no point at which we can’t go back.”

“Yes, fine,” said Curufin, growing impatient. “Now just – do whatever you’re going to do.”

Finrod didn’t answer, but pulled Curufin’s cock free of his shorts and ran his hand over it. Curufin wasn’t hard yet, but Finrod’s hand had him there quickly, and he closed his eyes, trying to distance himself from the sight of his pleasure in Finrod’s hands. The familiar distaste was rising. How can he want to do this to me? How can he find this part of me desirable?

As if hearing his thoughts, Finrod whispered, “You are beautiful, Curvo, ” and then took the head of his cock between his lips.

It was such an intense sensation, such an overwhelming feeling, that Curufin immediately knotted a hand in Finrod’s hair, not sure if he was going to beg him to stop or embarrass himself by coming immediately. Finrod stilled, and let his lips part around Curufin’s cock. He slid his tongue over the slit, making Curufin’s hips jerk, then pulled back and said, “Okay?”

Curufin panted a moment, not releasing Finrod’s hair from his grasp, and then said, “Okay.”

He could feel Finrod’s breath at the base of his cock, Finrod’s fingers still wrapped around him as he drew his mouth up and down Curufin’s length. His tongue pressed against the underside of Curufin’s cock before flicking up to the tip, and Curufin bit his lip at the surge of pleasure. There was still the usual detached string of questions running through his mind – Is this sanitary? What if he has a cold? Could that be transferred through oral sex? No, that’s stupid. Is it? What’s he thinking as he does this? Does he really like it? – but there was no fear. Despite the alien sensation, he was feeling, he realized, very nearly at ease.

Safe.

Finrod was still watching him as he moved between Curufin’s legs, and Curufin could see a distinct flush on his cheeks. He ran his fingers more gently through Finrod’s hair and Finrod closed his eyes and took a breath through his nose. Curufin swallowed hard as Finrod hollowed his cheeks and took him deeper, Curufin’s cock brushing against the back of his throat. Curufin closed his own eyes, a little overwhelmed, and felt Finrod pull back.

“How are you doing?” Finrod’s voice was husky, but his hand on Curufin’s waist was gentle. His fingers rubbed soothing circles on Curufin’s hipbone, and Curufin opened his eyes.

“I’m doing fine.” He bit his lips, trying not to laugh at the whole scenario, which suddenly struck him as utterly ridiculous. Who came up with the concept for this act? Who first thought this was a good idea? What an absurdity.

Finrod cocked his head. “What are you thinking about?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“If you say so. Would you like me to continue?”

“Why not?” Curufin lay back, Finrod’s hair slipping through his fingers. He felt bold, almost reckless.

“And if I…” There was a definite flush on Finrod’s cheekbones, though his voice was even. “You won’t mind if I touch myself?”

“No.” Curufin blinked. “You certainly don’t give me much work to do,” he added wryly, as Finrod started stroking him again with one hand as he undid his own jeans with the other. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Finrod smiled brilliantly at him, then took Curufin into his mouth and himself in hand at the same time, and Curufin closed his eyes.

The pleasure built quickly after that, and Curufin turned his head to the side, stuffing his hand into his mouth to stifle the sounds he couldn’t keep from making. He thought of how thin the walls were, and how humiliated he’d be to have his brothers overhear him, and bit his knuckles to stay quiet, so hard that he drew blood.

“It’s okay, Curvo,” Finrod whispered, drawing back for a moment. “It’s okay, you can relax, it’s just me and you.”

Curufin nodded mutely, and let himself gasp aloud as Finrod’s mouth closed around him once more.

When he came, he felt almost lightheaded, the pleasure more overwhelming than anything he’d experienced before, and with an immediate increase in sensitivity that made him jerk away. As his head cleared a little, he realized with sudden dismay the implications of his orgasm; he must have spilled himself down Finrod’s throat. He half sat up, a horrified apology on his lips, but Finrod was already wiping his mouth, apparently untroubled, and pressing a kiss to the inside of Curufin’s thigh. “Was that good?”

“Y – yes.” Curufin dropped back on his elbows, surprised. “Yes, it was.” He felt Finrod’s smile against his skin.

“I’m glad.” Finrod’s hand was still moving slowly between his own legs, and Curufin lay back on the pillows, staring through half-lidded eyes at the ceiling as he listened to Finrod’s breathing quicken. He could tell when Finrod came, because he gave a gasp and a swallowed moan, tucking his face against Curufin’s hip.

Shortly thereafter, he pulled himself up on the bed at Curufin’s side, asking soft questions, checking in. Curufin nodded, feeling too languorous to say much, and glad that Finrod didn’t try to kiss him; he wondered if it would be asking too much to suggest Finrod brush his teeth first. Finrod lay down next to him, leaving some space between their bodies, and gave a long, full-body stretch, happy and content as a lazy cat.

“Thank you,” he said, and, “Are you glad we tried it?”

Curufin thought about it, and nodded. Then he rolled over on his side to look at Finrod, and tapped suddenly businesslike fingers on the quilt. There was one last item on his list. “You didn’t tell me about Turgon and Amarië. And how you are feeling about that.”

Finrod looked startled at this abrupt segue. “No, I didn’t.”

“You should tell me now. If you want to,” he added, belatedly borrowing some of Finrod’s vocabulary.

“Would you like me to?”

“I think,” said Curufin, and he was once again running through his lists, “Processing conflicting emotions about friends and ex-girlfriends dating… Yes, I think it is one of those things that one talks about. You know, in a relationship.”

Finrod was smiling at him. “You said relationship.”

Curufin winced. “Don’t read too much into it.”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t use that tone on me either.”

“Never.”

Curufin rolled his eyes. “Are you like this to your students? You are the most insufferable creature, it’s honestly unbearable.”

“I do wonder how you bear me,” said Finrod musingly, and laughed as Curufin muttered, “I do, too.”

But he didn’t, not really.

* * *

“I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you have pillow fights in your underwear?”

“What?”

“Like frolicking around, batting each other with pillows and giggling. Do you do that?”

“You mean in the barracks?”

“Yes.”

“I saw one of my fellow recruits get a concussion when someone threw a boot at his head once. He wasn’t in his underwear, I don’t think.” Ecthelion thought for a moment. “Is it possible you are confusing stereotypes about the Marines with stereotypes about, say, sorority sisters?”

“It’s possible.” Ríanellë hummed and linked her arm through his. “On the other hand, I could be being remarkably astute about what young men get up to when they’re not occupied with shooting things.”

Ecthelion shifted his bag onto his other shoulder. “I’m getting the impression you don’t take me very seriously.”

“You take yourself seriously enough for two, so I’m going to balance it out. It’s my job.”

Ecthelion shook his head, but he was smiling. “It does fit with your role as my bratty little sister.”

“I am six minutes younger than you. Get off that high horse.”

They were on the block where the bus station was now, and Ríanellë slowed slightly, dragging on Ecthelion’s arm. Ecthelion looked at her, some sadness in his eyes. “Ría…”

“Don’t walk so fast.”

“I don’t want to go anymore than you do, but my bus leaves in 15 minutes.”

“At 10:30, right?”

“Yes.” Ecthelion fumbled in the pocket of his uniform. “Look, you wrote it down for me. It’s the 10:30am bus from gate seven.”

“No.”

“No?”

Ríanellë whistled a jaunty tune. “It’s actually at 11:45am.”

“What?”

Ríanellë smiled cherubically. “I lied to you about the schedule. You have an hour and a half before your bus leaves.”

“Ría!” Ecthelion threw his hands into the air. “If we have an hour and a half, what are we doing here so early?”

“Hey.” A figure rose from the bench where he’d been waiting, his hands in his pockets. Ecthelion looked up, saw golden hair and bare arms, and stopped talking so abruptly it was like he’d been muted.

“I thought you could use a little time,” said Ríanellë softly, slipping her arm free of Ecthelion’s. “But I know Mama and Baba wanted to be with you right up to when you had to leave, so I…fudged the schedule a little. And then gave Glorfindel a call.”

Glorfindel was watching Ecthelion, unable to take his eyes from Ecthelion’s face, but he smiled in Ríanellë’s direction and said, “Thank you for that, Ríanellë."

“Yes,” said Ecthelion, his bag slipping slightly down his arm. “Thank you, Ríanellë.”

Ecthelion and Ríanellë hugged each other one last time, Ríanellë blinking rapidly, her eyes bright. “Keep yourself in one piece for us,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“I will try. And I’ll write,” Ecthelion promised. “And I can Skype mom and dad once a week – maybe you can come over for that?”

“Only if you show footage of your friends in their underwear having pillow fights.”

Glorfindel chuckled, and Ecthelion said, “Seriously, Ría, I am not even letting my bunkmates know I have a sister, much less giving them a chance to show off for you.”

“Spoilsport.” Ríanellë hugged Ecthelion fiercely one more time, then let him go and nodded at Glorfindel. “I leave him in your capable hands. I mean, I assume.”

“Ría,” muttered Ecthelion, embarrassed.

“Yes.” Glorfindel nodded back. “And hey, I’ll be in touch, okay?”

“Sounds good.” Ríanellë swallowed once, then waved to them both and set off down the street, her head intentionally high, her steps brisk. She was whistling again, a light tune that nevertheless carried an air of melancholy.

Ecthelion watched her go, looking back only when he felt a hand slip into his and squeeze his fingers gently.

“Quite the sister you’ve got there.”

“I know.”

“I’m glad she did this,” said Glorfindel. “I was starting to think you’d head back without us ever getting a real chance to talk.”

“We talked in the park, after we saw Turgon and Amarië…”

“We talked for five minutes and then started hooking up again.”

Ecthelion looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry. I seem to be bad at…communicating.”

“You communicated the important thing.” Glorfindel pulled Ecthelion around the corner of the bus station, and sat them down on a bench. “If you hadn’t said what you did ten days ago, right now I’d be cheerfully telling my best friend goodbye again and pretending that I didn’t wish he was more.”

“I can’t believe you never said anything all those years,” said Ecthelion softly. “So many years we could have…”

“But would you have wanted to? Did you even think about me like that until just recently?”

Ecthelion hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Right. And if you hadn’t, I would have lost you as a friend.”

“No, you wouldn’t have!” Ecthelion held Glorfindel’s hand tighter. “I wouldn’t have stopped being your friend, I never would have – ”

“I couldn’t take the risk,” said Glorfindel, and lifted Ecthelion’s hand to his mouth. He kissed his knuckles, a soft brush of lips, and lowered his hand again. “I didn’t care that I couldn’t have you as more than a friend as long as I could have you in my life, somehow. That’s what mattered to me.”

“And what am I now?” Ecthelion’s voice was very low. “If I am more than your friend?”

Glorfindel looked a little flustered. “Dammit, Thel, that was going to be my question. Way to put me on the spot.”

“You said before that we were still friends. Just with…something else added.”