moldava: (Aragorn)
[personal profile] moldava
So more it is, and thanks for wanting more




Title: Parth Galen - Revisited - Epilogue
Author: [livejournal.com profile] moldava
Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir
Rating: R-ish
Disclaimer: not mine
Warning: major canon slaughtering; improbable swiftness of recovery, but Aragorn is Aragorn ;)



The grayish light of dawn was coming in through the door when he woke again, his sleep interrupted by Aragorn’s moving restlessly against him. The fever was back and now the ranger’s body was burning with it.

Boromir rose and went to soak the remaining strips of cloth in the water. He carried the bucket close to the bed and started bathing the ranger’s heated skin.

It was as he was busy with this task that he realized that all of Aragorn’s body was burning. The ranger’s cock was erect, hard and full against the dark hair on his belly.

Boromir stared at it, unable to look away and absent-mindedly licking suddenly dry lips until some thrashing and moaning from Aragorn reminded him of the need to cool the ranger’s fevered body.

He resumed his work with the water-soaked rags, making sure he stayed well away from Aragorn’s belly, away from temptation.

Yes, temptation.. Now that they were alone and the dark lure of the Ring was gone from his mind Boromir could admit it. There was no hiding it behind other motives and duties now, he just plain wanted this man. He wanted him as a friend and he wanted him as a lover.He wanted his respect and he wanted the passion and tenderness he could sense in him.

He sighed and continued his efforts, soaking the rags in the bucket of water as soon as the heat radiating from Aragorn’s body made them lose their cooling effect. But his green eyes kept straying to the erection that showed no sign of going down, studying it hungrily, doing with his gaze what he really wanted to do with his hands.

Minutes passed, the routine task making them feel like hours, but Boromir knew his efforts would bear fruit. And they did.. The fever broke, leaving the ranger visibly exhausted, but the Gondorian knew that the fever had been a necessary evil, a reaction of the body to the wound. Now it was gone and the body could heal, rest was all that was needed now.

Rest, indeed…

Boromir watched Aragorn move restlessly on the sleeping mat, whimpering softly. It was obvious to him that the ranger’s state of arousal was making it impossible for him to find the deep, undisturbed sleep he needed to recover. Only the Valar knew what dreams were setting his manhood on fire, but Boromir knew that something needed to be done about that so that both body and mind could find rest.

He wiped his wet hands on his breeches and when they were dry and warm he touched the ranger, hesitantly at first, closely scrutinizing his face to see if he would wake, then more confidently when he saw the tense face, pale under its tan, relax.

A small sound of approval escaped the tortured lips and the ranger’s hips moved, instinctively thrusting up and demanding closer contact with the hand touching him so lightly.

Boromir swallowed and leaned closer, wrapping his fingers around the base of the ranger’s thick cock and taking the head into his mouth. He was unable to stop the sound of pure pleasure that rumbled in his chest. Aragorn tasted wild and sweet and the broad head pillowed on his tongue felt like it belonged there.

He began to suck, slow and strong, his free hand splayed on the ranger’s thigh to hold him still. All too soon the shaft throbbed under his fingers and his mouth filled with Aragorn’s seed. He drew back licking his lips, his eyes wary as they checked the ranger’s face to make sure he was still asleep and unaware of what had just gone on.

What he saw reassured him. Aragorn was sleeping peacefully, a faint smile on his lips.

“Sweet dreams, my king..” Boromir murmured, smiling himself. He stood and went to the door. The sun was just barely rising and all was quiet. He wondered where Frodo was and wished him well, whatever path he would choose to take with his cursed burden. He knew where his path would lead him.. back to Gondor.. with his king.

He turned and went inside again. He stood by the stone bed watching the ranger sleep for a while, then he slipped by his side and closed his eyes, planning to lie there quietly watching over his king’s rest.

It was later in the morning that a stirring at his side woke him. He raised himself on one elbow and met the ranger’s clear blue gaze.

“You look better..” he said, his voice raspy with sleep.

“I feel better. I believe I owe it to you. I cannot remember exactly what I dreamed of, but I had strange dreams at first and they made me uneasy.. Then you were by my side and everything was right again..” Aragorn murmured, his hand touching Boromir’s shoulder in a gesture of mute gratefulness.

Boromir felt colour creep up his cheeks but his eyes remained locked with Aragorn’s.

“I will always be at your side, my king.”

“It is your rightful place, Steward of Gondor. And it is where I would like you to be, Boromir, the way we are now. I mean no offense, but I have no need for a steward right now. I am no king, maybe I will never be… but I need a friend, and more...” Aragorn’s hand sought Boromir’s arm, his fingers closing over the vambrace encasing his wrist.

“And you have it, Aragorn. I am here and I’m ready to be whatever you need.. and want..”

“Then I can rest safe, and happy. I was happy in the dream when you were with me.”.

“Were you?” Boromir smiled, his green eyes gleaming. “Maybe you should rest some more, and dream some more..”

“I will..” Aragorn closed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired, and moved closer to Boromir. “Stay with me..” he murmured.

“Always,” was the whispered reply. “Forever.”

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February 2009

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