Work Text:
I could not look at you most of the time. It was not because I did not regard you as dearly as I did the others. I regarded you higher than them. I desired you. I wanted to lift you in my arms and steal you away from the eyes of the others. I resisted the urge to make love to you.
I dreamt of your voice, my name a ghost on your lips as I kissed you. There I could bring you to the height of pleasure. There, only we existed.
I would wake early, attacked by my desire and my dreams. I would sneak away to be alone and there I would relieve myself, thinking of you.
Then you left with Sam. The fellowship was broken. I wanted to follow you. Aragorn stopped me, opting instead that we save Merry and Pippin—they are your relatives. Your family. So I went with Aragorn and Gimli rather than follow you. I knew it wouldn’t do much, but if ever you learned their side of the tale, they could tell you how we—Aragorn, Gimli, and I—rescued them.
Apparently hobbits don’t need much rescuing, but I was relieved nonetheless when we found your cousins.
Through the journey to Rohan and to Gondor, I avoided sleep lest I be found out. Aragorn and Gimli knew already. It was Gandalf I feared. I don’t know what the wizard would do if he knew how dearly and wantonly I loved you.
I wanted to tell you how I feel for you before the end. For a brief moment, I thought I lost my chance to outside the Black Gates when the Eye collapsed and Mountain burst forth molten lava.
I thought you were dead. I almost collapsed from the weakness settling in my being and I wept.
Gandalf went to search for you and Sam while Aragorn and Gimli tried to bring me back to my feet. I could not stand, so powerful was my grief.
Gandalf returned with you and Sam. You were weak, injured, bleeding, and dirty—but very much alive. I still wept, but the sorrow had become joy. I could still tell you. I could tell you how I feel for you.
But the chance never came. You had to heal. You had to regain your strength.
Aragorn was crowned King of Gondor and, though he was a king, he and all of Gondor bowed at your feet, falling prostrate to the ground.
They bowed because you are our savior. You are the one who rid the world of the most heinous evil ever to exist in our world. And you were the object of my affections.
We went our separate ways from there. Gimli returned to Erebor. Aragorn married Arwen in Gondor. I returned to Mirkwood. You and your friends made your way back to the Shire.
But I know you are not the same as you were when we first met. I am not the same as before either. At home, I smile, I do what I am expected to do—but I miss you. I miss you so deeply that I cannot sleep.
Each celebration was a tedious task I had to endure. Every day was long.
I was beginning to forget your face and my sorrow was beginning to show.
One day, I was hunting by the river that flows through my land when I saw you. I knew it was you because you had not vanished completely from my eyes.
Your hair whipped in the wind. There was sadness in your eyes that never should have been there. I would rather they be happy and filled with mirth. I ran to greet you and lifted you in my arms.
“Legolas, what are you—put me down!” you demanded.
“But you’re so small,” I answer, grinning ear to ear. I had not been so happy in months. “It’s hard not to want to pick you up, Frodo. And just as hard to put you down.”
“Had we not talked about this before?”
“We have.”
“Then stop treating me like a child and put me down.”
“Frodo, let your friend dote on you,” an old hobbit said, passing by us with a cane in his hand.
You rolled your eyes at the old one. We entered the forest and the old one was greeted kindly and called Elf-Friend by my father.
Bilbo’s aged rapidly now that the Ring is gone.
I didn’t set you down for a long time, holding you closely. I’m afraid to let go. I’m afraid you’ll run back to the Shire again and my chance will never come.
When we’re almost home, you begin to squirm.
“Legolas, I can walk for myself.”
“I know.”
“Then could you please put me down?”
I cut away from the others into a hall I hope is deserted. “I will put you down if you listen.” It’s now or never. “I had hoped for different, better conditions in which to tell you.”
You blink. “Tell me what?”
“That I love you.”
Red tinge rouge your cheeks. “What?”
“I love you, Frodo, and it’s been tearing me apart.” I kiss his cheek and hide my face in his neck. I can’t look at you right now. I feel that you think I’m disgusting. “I wanted to tell you at least once.”
“Just once?” I bring my head up to look at you. You’re still blushing. “Uh…well…I didn’t think you’d think of me that way. I’m flattered, Legolas. But I thought you and Gimli…”
I laughed. “Gimli? He and I could never—no! No. He’s like a brother to me. The brother I never wanted, but still a brother. He regards me the same way. No. Frodo, I always loved you.”
Your lips are chapped against mine. I didn’t expect you to kiss me so readily or so boldly. I always thought you were tentative or inexperienced. This unforeseen assertive side to you who I’ve loved so dearly sends blood rushing southward.
I kiss you back, darting my tongue across your lips, surprising you enough to gain entry. Your tongue battles with mine for dominance. I press you against a tree. Your arms and legs wrap around me, allowing me to hold you up by your hips. You tire of battling for dominance with me and allow my tongue to explore the crevices of your mouth. I break the kiss to plant new ones on your neck.
This isn’t going to be enough to stave my hunger for you. You mewl and my already hard dick aches for freedom. I can feel your erection pressing into my stomach.
“Las, isn’t there someplace a little more private?” you gasp.
I pull you away from the tree and race to my room as fast as allowable without drawing attention. Admittedly, my room is still a little open for your liking, but no one will bother us here. I close the door and set you on the bed.
You glance around the room. “Are you sure this is more…”
“I promise you it is as secluded as any other room. I know it’s not as closed off as you might prefer but we won’t be disturbed,” I guarantee, popping the buttons of your vest. You shrug off your coat and the vest. I unclasp my own shirt before sliding a hand up yours.
You yelp. “Your hands are cold.”
“Sorry. They’ll warm up.”You shiver as I slide my hand over your chest, revealing your stomach to me. I don’t know what happened, but you never regained the healthy hobbit chub you should have. Though you don’t look as anorexic as you did after the journey, which is good. You pull your shirt off. I push you down, nipping your skin with soft kisses, pausing at your nipples to suck on them and drink in the sound of your moans.
My erection hurts, but I’m not willing to give up this chance of seeing you so pleasured. I pull your trousers down. You yelp again, hands clasping down on your dick. I remove them, pinning them overhead. “Don’t hide from me,” I command.
“But—”
“Keep your hands here. Only here.” I dip down again, flicking my tongue across your slit. You gasp and buck your hips. I pin you down with my hands and encase your dick in my mouth.
“Las…Legolas…”
Hearing my name at last sent shivers down my spine. I inhale, my cheeks hollowing around him. You tried to buck again.
I’m tempted to let you fuck my mouth for the sake of exploring how dominant you can be with me. I resist it, deciding that there will be time for that later. Right now, I want to be in control. I hum. You mewl.
“Legolas, I’m going to cum—”
Your seed spills into my mouth and I swallow, the muscles of my throat and mouth tightening around you.
My pants are drenched in pre-cum. I feel I’m going to burst and I desire to pick up speed for the sake of relief. It’s all I can do not to give in yet.
I release you and you are shaking. Your eyes are closed and your chest is heaving. My gaze travels over you. Dreams and fantasies do no justice to the real thing. My fingers tease you with their touch and you gasp.
My erection is screaming at me and I can’t keep it clothed anymore. I pull my pants down. Your eyes open and you stare at me. A part of me understands your shyness now, but at the same time I want you looking at me.
I lean back down over you, searching for the oil on my nightstand. I find it and coat my fingers in it before sliding them inside you. You whimper, twisting around.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
So close. I’m afraid I’m going to cum too soon. You are a mess, pressing your face against the covers. I pull my fingers out and, though it’s dripping with pre-cum, I coat a good amount of oil on me to make it easier for you and for me. I press the tip against your hole and I can feel you relax, breathing.
I don’t like this position. I turn you around so I can look at you. I roll my hips against yours. You gasps. “Las, stop.”
My heart jolts. “Stop?”
“Stop teasing me. Please.”
I smile. “As you wish.”
A few quick thrusts embed me inside you. A few more push me into you over and over until I’m entirely inside you to the hilt. I don’t know what I hit at one thrust, but from the scream and the arching of your back I know to hit it again and again if I wanted to see you lost in pleasure.
I muffle your screams with my mouth, kissing you violently. You tighten around me. I give up. I can’t hold in anymore, spilling into you with a cry of my own. When my orgasm passes, I gasp for breath. I don’t want to separate from you just yet. I’ve waited too long to be connected to you, Frodo. I roll my hips into yours a little longer before I do separate from you.
“Frodo let me hold you…just this once.”
“I think you already did,” you laugh, pressing your body against my torso. “But, Legolas, I wouldn’t say no to another round later. I didn’t exactly get to tell you I love you to."