#greyskulls

The angry glare from ocean blue eyes wasn't half as effective in making Elrond turn around on the spot as the almost toxically thick cloud of alpha pheromones infusing the air. He thanked Eru once more for the gift of that certain, nice little plant that had been helping him for more than two Ages now to mostly suppress the natural needs of his body when the time was inconvenient for them to arise. And when you were alone in a bedroom with an alpha in the middle of their heat, inconvenient was mildly put. He still locked the door behind himself before approaching the huge, gold-framed bed, simply because they didn't need intrusions from anyone while he was trying to take care of this mess. There was already a certain someone in the Elvenking's Halls who had seen far too much today. "Your son, if you must know. He thinks you must have been poisoned or something."

  Thranduil murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "Damn the kid" and turned away, pulling a light cover higher over his bare body and burying his face into the pillows with a grunt.

  "You still haven't told him," Elrond remarked unnecessarily, already busy searching in his bag for a couple of things that would hopefully at least make the next hours more bearable for his patient. "Do you want to wait until he falls in love someday and is slammed headfirst into his first heat without a warning?"

  "If I wanted to hear unsolicited counsel, I'd call my advisor circle," Thranduil snapped, slipping away to the other side of the bed before Elrond could do as much as touch his shoulder. "Get out! Do I look to you like I can keep my hands off an omega right now?"

  "If you weren't capable of that, you wouldn't have chosen trying to suffer through this alone." Wholly unimpressed, Elrond sat down behind the King and rested his hand on his neck for a brief moment, ignoring Thranduil's startle best as he could. With a hiss, he withdrew his hand, and not only because too close proximity to a hormone-crazed alpha was hard to deal with even when you had your own desires artificially under control. He could still feel it raging under the surface of the tranquilizer in his blood, spiking against his own slightly too hot skin every now and then. Focusing was hard. He couldn't waste too much time in here, he knew that. But just from that one touch and another, just as quick one of two fingertips to the side of Thranduil's neck, he started to get a vague, horrified idea that he might not have a choice. "You're burning up. How can you still talk? Your heartbeat is stuttering. Do I even want to know how long you've been on suppressants?"

  Thranduil shrugged a little, it looked more helpless than irritated. "I've got a Kingdom to rule. I can't disappear for several days every few months. Besides, I do have heats. You've been around for the last one, in case you forgot."

  "At Midsummer's in Imladris? Thranduil, that was three-hundred years ago." Elrond didn't know whether to laugh or to scream in frustration. As charming as it was sometimes, having the most grumpy and stubborn bastard of elf-world ruling one of the last strongholds against their common enemy, sometimes he forgot that he was also dealing with someone who thought self-care was starting to drink only after at least half of his daily duties were done.

  "Was it?" It sounded confused, and absent. The tall, lithe, curled-up body on the sweat-drenched mattress had started shaking harder; the heat was radiating off of it like of a furnace at this point. From the movements under the cover, Elrond could tell that his patient had reached between his legs to ease the worst burning there with a couple of shallow caresses.

  It was a sight that shouldn't be half as erotic as it was, but sadly, Elrond's own hormones were starting to claim ownership of his clear thinking, usual inhibitions and harmless animosities between Thranduil and him quickly forgotten when he heard his patient pant that heavily, with so much effort, a sound spiked with pitiful mewls every now and then. Not to mention that a fever that high lasting for several days could do serious damage even to a Firstborn body and Elrond was in no mood of prolonging this diplomatic visit for a year or so to repair all that … The Valar had cursed him with the complete and utter inability of watching someone suffer when he could help it. Even if that meant putting his pride in the background sometimes. "And you have the nerve to be surprised, your suppressants failed you." Elrond let out a deep sigh and resigned to his fate. He was finally finished with the song that had cooled the water on a soft cloth in his hands almost down to ice and carefully spread it on Thranduil's neck, grinning when the King let out a sound not unlike the hiss of a kitten. "Don't move. I need to get your temperature down or you'll pass out before you can fuck me."

  "Have you lost your mind for good now, Half-elven?" The glance he was being thrown over a tight shoulder was incredulous, but there was also the rising heat flushing those diamond-sharp cheekbones that let Elrond know, his patient wasn't reluctant to his proposal at all. That he was still trying to say no was just another reminder that under this thick shield of arrogance and rudeness and coldness, his friend cared more about other people – especially those close to him – than he would ever admit. More than it was healthy, in fact. "You honestly think I'm going to throw myself at any omega in that state? Why exactly do you think I'm not with of any of my soldiers right now? I can hardly remember what you were saying half a minute ago. The moment you tell me to touch you, you'll become nothing but a warm hole for me to knot. I would rather not have your sons march an army to my doorstep, because I accidentally ripped their father's throat open with my teeth … Valar, would you stop undressing, Half-elven?"

  "You're not the only one feeling a little too hot right now." Elrond threw his sweat-stained tunic in the next corner with gritted teeth, wincing when only the light touch of the thin material rubbing against his nipples for a moment left them hard and reddened. There wasn't a lot of time to talk left. He opened his breeches that had become far too tight too but left them on for now, more for Thranduil's ease of mind than anything else.

  He seriously doubted that a patient who could hardly keep his eyes open would make it to wrestle him down against his will. But the alpha lying here in front of him, trembling and sweating his life out and so very desperate to keep control over every single thing in his life, obviously did not.

  If this wasn't go very south, Elrond would need to rid him of that stupid fear, and fast. Even a little coldness on sickeningly hot skin could only do so much before a body would give in. He would rather not have to sleep with the King – a thought that still made him shudder a little from the sheer absurdity, but left his neglected cock suspiciously interested in what was going on – while he was passed out. "You're not the first alpha I'm helping through an unexpected heat. Though admittedly, none of them were stupid enough to wait for hundreds of years before bedding someone." When Thranduil scoffed, he very carefully lay his hand on his back again, above the cover, just to be safe. "I'm not as helpless as you think. I've been trained in the art of defense by two Fëanorians, you know. One of them being an alpha."

  "You're not helping your case."

  Elrond rolled his eyes. How refreshing that some things never changed. "I'm not going to beg you, Thranduil. You can either accept my offer or I'll tell your son to find a suitable omega for you. I suppose, he has at least an idea where to find the couple of them living here, even though you never bothered to tell him, your family belongs to those lines."

  "You wouldn't dare."

  "Try me."

  For several long seconds, there was only the uneven, shallow breathing that was vibrating through Thranduil's tense upper body filling the room, and the ever-present cloud of spicy sweet that was the scent they were creating together by now. A new, pained tremor going through his body, his patient reached down again, trying once more to let the insufficient, stale touch of his own hand help with what must be painful hardness at this point, but Elrond wasn't surprised that he startled back with a whimper immediately. He didn't need to see it to know how wrecked the last hours of trying to get through this alone must have left the King. Closing his eyes with a shudder, he finally turned on his back. Tears of defeat were glistening in the corners of his eyes. "There's rope in the chest under the bed. Tie me up."

  Elrond needed a moment to make sense of this sudden change of mood and words, but once he did, a wave of demanding hotness crept down his own chest and back, the last effect of those damn suppressants gone in the wind, just by imagining being allowed to be in charge in a night like this for once. This had just taken a most interesting turn. He knew better than asking his patient if he was sure for he had to be afraid of another hour of discussion. But he also ignored what he'd been told, got up to approach the ridiculously huge walk in cabinet instead, silencing the mildly confused noise on Thranduil's lips with an impatient wave of his hand. It didn't take him long to find, what he was looking for, which was half a dozen smooth, costly scarves, stable enough to withstand even the strength of a hormone-crazed alpha and not half as unpleasant on sensitive skin as rope.   The very grateful glistening in his patient's narrow eyes was more than worth the few more minutes of wait, no matter how badly the arousal was throbbing in his own loins at this point, making it hard to still concentrate on the care he was treating every patient with.

Time was running short, so Elrond couldn't be considerate of the small groan of embarrassment on Thranduil's lips when he pulled that damn cover away from his body with a jerk, gritting his teeth at the unhealthy reddish color of the length throbbing untouched between those beautiful long legs, and the numerous marks of teeth and nails from weak attempts at fighting the most natural demand of a body with self-punishment.

  "You ever do this again, I will tell your son to babysit you," he growled, busy already wrapping the first scarf around one delicate ankle, always with a cautious eye on his patient's shaking form because no matter what Thranduil thought, he wasn't naïve about the often unbridled, irrational force that was alpha hormones.

  But with really astonishing willpower, the King managed to lie still in spite of the unusual predicament for an alpha to find themselves in, with the end of the scarf firmly tied to the bedpost, his whole body tense, sweat glistening on every inch of his skin, his eyes firmly pressed shut … But he didn't fight back.

  If the situation hadn't been so serious, Elrond would have taken a moment to tell him how beautiful he was like this, surrendering himself to someone probably for the first time since his wife had passed. As it was, his only job was to make sure, a situation like this could never happen again. "Or I will come here twice a year from now on just to tie you up and fuck you stupid. Pick one." It was a rhetorical offer, obviously, and he was too busy finishing tying that other muscular leg to the opposite bedpost to look up, so he startled a little when a large hand was suddenly buried in his hair. His own back tense, for a moment, he was ready to let that survival instinct take over that had been drilled into him by certain infamous elvish outlaws before he'd even come of age, his hand shooting to the side of the bed, to his bag, to reach for a blade if necessary …

  Thranduil only eyed him thoughtfully, still with that strange gentle, relieved expression on his face. There seemed to be a word lingering on those thin lips for a moment that probably no one in these halls had heard for a while. But then he let go of Elrond and silently held out his hand to him, a not exactly unhappy sigh on his lips when a third scarf was wrapped around his wrist.

  Elrond suddenly had a better idea than he'd ever wanted to, of how things had used to go in this bedroom when this had still been a marital bed, and how this marriage had worked in spite of people saying, the Queen had almost been an alpha herself, caught in the wrong body. After tying both of his patient's wrists to the bedposts too, leaving the flushed body spread eagle, helpless to the touch, he bent down to press a single kiss to the King's lips. Some wounds never closed fully, and as a healer, Elrond knew better than to touch even the thinnest, inflamed crust covering them. "Stop being a child." The brief, sincere moment passing, he already had to grin again when he got up to carry his healing bag to a water bowl in the corner and was regarded with an offended whine from his lover. "I'm not going to ride that cock of yours while you look like you had an orc suck you off. Unless you insist on me gagging you or half your court to hear you scream."

  "Walls are soundproof," Thranduil grumbled, because Thranduil couldn't ever not have the last word, but he did seem very glad in truth that Elrond had decided not to give in to the urge immediately to climb him like a tree, no matter how badly the emptiness was stinging between his legs at this point. In fact, he lay a lot more relaxed once Elrond had coated the small wounds on his skin and especially his raging erection with a thin layer of slightly spicy smelling herbal oil. The lust wasn't raging that aggressively in his cells anymore now that he couldn't use his own hands to torture himself anymore. The exhaustion from the last hours almost seemed to take over instead, his eyes fluttering close as he draw one ragged breath after the other into his lungs. He looked up again immediately though, a small scream breaking from his lips, his hands clenching around the scarves immobilizing his arms when Elrond came back to the bed after putting his things away, finally with his own clothes gone from his body, and knelt over him with widely spread legs, to lick a slow, tantalizing circle across one of his nipples. "I swear to Eru, Half-elven, if you don't stop teasing this instant …"

But that was all he could say before Elrond put a heavy hand over his lips, raising a brow at him admonishingly. "No oaths unless you're longing for that gag after all. And you're hardly in any position to make demands, Your Majesty." With that, he went back to suck and nibble on the tender skin of his lover's nipples in turn, one hand harshly twisting and massaging the other until the bright buds were swollen and red, glistening with spit, and every smallest touch left his lover moaning out. His other hand, he had between his own legs where it had found to zero surprise hot slick pooling around his hole. So much for the infallibility of suppressants. At this point, Elrond couldn't care less; it only meant less bothering with oil and toys. His heated channel opened up easily for however many fingers he used to prepare himself, and soon, he was too busy, moaning and shivering to still focus on the elf writhing and cursing under him, trying in vain to thrust his hips up against Elrond's body.

  "Will you fuck me already? Please?" Thranduil finally snapped at him, and that had been the only thing, Elrond had been waiting for, if he was being honest.

  He committed the precious moment of the Elvenking begging him to his memory and straightened up on his knees then, reaching for his lover's cock, that fortunately didn't react half as extremely to his careful touch anymore, positioning himself right until he could feel the slightly pointed tip nudge at his twitching opening. "Fuck, you're big," he murmured, appreciatively and turned on far too much to care about his words. Ignoring the impatient growl from the elf under him, he took his sweet time, lowering himself on that beautiful piece of flesh, inch by inch, fingertips striking up and down his lower belly with firm pressure to feel the massive hardness inside of him through his skin. At last, he was fully seated, speared open in the best of ways, shaking all over, bracing himself heavily against Thranduil's chest with both hands as he savored that sensation of being so wonderfully full again after far too long a wait. Already, he could feel the telltale hardness on the base of his lover's cock nudging against his stretched rim, slowly only, as if the King was holding back with whatever willpower he still had left in him that was no longer necessary. Elrond leaned forward to give Thranduil's quivering lower lip a harsh bite, moaning out when he could feel the cock inside of him shift and jerk. "Knot me, my King. Fill me up with your seed."

  His lover's eyes shone with a calmingly well-known hint of provocation, of challenge. "Before the night is over, I will remind you that you said that, Half-elven."

“You’ll love it, I promise.” Maitimo threw the harness on the bed for now to wrap his arms around his husband’s half-naked shape, bending down to kiss those sweet, pillowy lips. He didn’t have a lot of time for persuasion.

The High King of these realms was expected to be on time for his duties, whether his secret husband had come to visit him, after almost three months without any real contact, or not. But Maitimo thought he could get away with a little bit of fun before they’d have to leave. And spending his day then seeing his lover squirm on his throne as inconspicuous as possible while he cursed his husband in their bond, for what was probably the hundredth time at this point? Big plus.

“I will make it up to you,” he promised, because Findekáno still didn’t look completely convinced. But when Maitimo reached down to grab his firm, round ass through the flimsy fabric of his breeches, there was the smallest moan in the back of his throat. “Tonight, when we get back from the feast, you can do with me whatever you want …”

A dangerous glint lit Findekáno's almost black eyes, a fine brow slowly wandered up his forehead, and Maitimo got a feeling, he had just signed his own doom. Again. “Everything?”

Maitimo nodded lightly because this was Findekáno and not the torturers in the Dark Lord’s fortress that had torn apart Maitimo’s body and soul a thousand times and put it back together in a way that would never really fit again. This was his husband, the elf he loved and trusted with all of his heart. The one he lusted for in spite of the horrors that had left his body a scarred mess. And if that sometimes meant Findekáno putting all kind of things up his backside or fucking his throat until Maitimo couldn’t talk the next day - sometimes both, at the same time -, well, then Maitimo usually only came even harder at the end of the night.

But first, it was his husband’s turn to suffer a little. “We still have more than an hour. Get those stupid clothes off and kneel down on the bed,” he growled when Findekáno nodded, still a little hesitatingly. “Legs spread, arms behind your back.”

Findekáno did so eagerly, because once he’d decided to go with something that Maitimo wanted, he always enjoyed it a great deal. Enough for his not too long but very thick cock to stand alert already when he’d taken the desired pose, his flawless dark skin shining in the morning light falling through the window, faint drops of salt glistening on his chest. Perfect.

Maitimo told him so and then crouched down in front of him to wrap his lips around his husband’s cock, leaving him panting and trembling within seconds. When he could be sure that Findekáno was turned on enough to not forget him for the rest of the day, Maitimo reached for the harness and closed the first of the metal rings behind Findekáno’s slightly swollen balls, effectively staving off any orgasm for the time being. The next few rings he slipped over his husband’s hard length, keeping it casually in place with the use of his lips around its head, his maimed arm wrapped around Findekáno’s thighs to hold him still while his husband sighed and writhed but said no protest, for now. The last ring had a hook at the front, with a thin leather strap threaded through it that Maitimo used to gently pull his lover’s throbbing length up against his stomach. Then he wrapped the improvised belt around Findekáno’s waist, closing the buckle in the front with his good hand and his teeth, something he’d inevitably become very good at. “See?” He backed away enough to admire his work with heated eyes, the way Findekáno's cock was straining against the restriction that kept it pressed to his body in vain. Small beads of white collected at the head that Maitimo licked away with a groan of enjoyment. There was another part of that harness that he hadn’t shown his lover yet, but before he would, he would have him, mark him, make certain that Findekáno would indeed be thinking about him all day. “You wear a nice, wide robe and tunic, and no one in the audience or at dinner will know how desperate you are for me, my sweet King. Now, why don’t you get on your knees and elbows? I can’t leave the room like this either.” He emphasized his words by stroking his own aching length, chuckling when Findekáno licked his lips yearningly. “Not now. Turn around, my love. Don’t make me ask again.”

He got an idea why Findekáno had maybe been hesitant about presenting himself like this for a moment when he saw his husband’s hole glistening with oil and more than a little swollen. “Looks like you’ve been having some naughty thoughts about my arrival last night … Did you use the big one, my love? The one that I gave you?”

“Wanted to be ready for you,” Findekáno breathed, his arousal bigger than his slight embarrassment. Then he actually wriggled his ass at Maitimo, throwing back a seductive glance over his shoulder, and really, it would have taken a bigger elf than Maitimo to resist that.

Thanks to his lover stretching himself open with a phallus that almost resembled his own significant length, he could enter him almost without resistance, impaling Findekáno on his length with a loud moan. His hand buried in his lover’s braids, he started fucking into him hard and fast, all that frustration and waiting of the last few months turning into red heat in his groin so that it didn’t take long at all before he spilled his seed deep in his lover’s guts.

Findekáno mewled a little and thrust his hips into thin air in frustration when Maitimo pulled out, very aware that he wouldn’t be allowed to come anytime soon. The whine turned into a turned on noise of surprise when Maitimo got the huge metal toy out from a robe of his tunic that he’d brought and easily slipped it into him, keeping Maitimo’s seed inside. “Fuck …”

“Later, my love,” Maitimo purred comfortably. Then he pulled the two straps between his teeth that were threaded through another hook at the broad base of that toy. One of them went between his husband’s legs on his front where it would rub along his cock and balls teasingly all day, the other parted his sweet cheeks like an exquisite piece of clothing. Then Maitimo wrapped them both around Findekáno’s waist as well before closing them. While Findekáno was still busy throwing insults at his head and writhing against him, trying in vain to scoot away from Maitimo’s longer, stronger legs around his, he reached for the last item in his tunic and pulled his lover up against his chest, murmuring soothing words in his ear. “Remember, everything you want, tonight.” It was hard, not letting his own excitement grow again immediately when he threaded the small lock he had brought through matching metal loops in those leather straps, right next to his husband’s trapped length, and closed it. Which meant, his lover couldn’t just get rid of his new plug or that evil little cage so easily.

The sex had been spectacular, as it should be in their wedding night, and Glorfindel was pretty sure, this evening couldn’t get any better. He was also pretty sure he would end up balls-deep in his husband again before the sun would come up, or with a thick peace of cock between his lips, and either was completely fine, but for now, he could hardly move a muscle and yearned only for the most harmless of his lover’s touch. Sluggishly, he turned to his side where his husband had curled into a ball like an adorable little black cat - a quite scrawny and grumpy kitten but still an adorable one - and reached out to pull Erestor close to his chest. His fingertips had only just grazed his lover’s waist when a single, strained word had him freeze.

“Don’t.”

The harsh sobering and a hint of confused pain in Glorfindel’s soul must have radiated through their wedding bond like a battle scream, because Erestor immediately turned around and bent up to kiss him.

Glorfindel could still taste himself on his lover’s tongue, and despite his exhaustion, his cock gave a pitiful little twitch. Not now, and not only because he really didn’t feel like passing out mid-sex. Burying his hair in Erestor’s messy hair, he pulled him away just far enough to take a questioning look in those big chocolate-colored eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Erestor let him know his usual charming way by rolling his eyes with a huff that he was being an idiot. “You’re ridiculously huge, but no. Not an ache that wouldn’t be most welcome. I’m a restless sleeper, that’s all. I don’t want to punch you in the dick by accident. I still need that part of you, you need.”

“I’ll carve you a toy.” It was Glorfindel’s turn to roll his eyes. Before that ceremony a few hours earlier that they had been putting off for roughly four millennia, he would actually have believed his silver-tongued lover, but the connection of two elves in love made it hard for either side to keep on hiding. “You know I can feel it in our bond when you’re lying, right?”

“Oh, damn it all.” The weak candle-light made it hard to say, but he could have sworn, there were suddenly tears in Erestor’s eyes. He wasn’t surprised when his husband turned away from him ... only about the agitated, slightly too cold hand reaching back for his arm to pull him close before Glorfindel was finished deciding if he was offended enough to leave the bed.

Sighing, he buried his face against Erestor’s neck and tried to suck the sudden tension from his muscles. “You know, it’s alright if you’re not much of a cuddler.”

“I don’t mind cuddling.” Erestor still grumbled a little, shifting and rolling his hips almost in defiance to scoot even closer to him, and this time, it became almost impossible, not becoming rock-hard immediately. “I just don’t like to be touched when I’m falling asleep.” After a few more stubborn seconds, he finally brought himself to say it, his clammy fingertips around Glorfindel’s lower arm suddenly a death grip. Shivers the size of the Anduin spread on his back though the room was rather over-heated.

Sensing that it was too hard for his lover to continue, Glorfindel softly reached out in the gold and silver that was their bond, tentatively, ready to pull back anytime, but Erestor invited him in, opened a door to an extremely neat room, full of books, in a city of white. He found himself lying in a simply carved cot instead of the opulent richness that was their marital bed, awoken by a red sun rising, by screams of death and torment outside the window and the deafening rumble of half of the house collapsing. By the sight of three half-buried corpses in the living room and his own scream, too big to fit through his vocal cords, cut off brutally when another part of the ceiling came down and the lights went out.

“They knew, somehow.” The flat sound of Erestor's voice brought him back to the present, the faint throb of his wrist from a hand that only relaxed when Glorfindel pressed tender kisses to his husband's neck. “That evening before, that was the first time we’d hugged in decades. People who hug me good-night have a tendency of not coming back in the morning.” There was no venom in his words, no reproach, not even a hint of cynicism, legit as it would have been, given Glorfindel had been the one to pull him from that ruin, to carry him from that destroyed city, to sing him to sleep when the pain had become unbearable.

He, too, had not been there anymore when Erestor had woken up. “I’m not saying good-night”, he said firmly, swallowing the lump in his throat, a loving smile on his lips when Erestor turned his head to frown at him. “Not unless I really do have to leave for some stupid duty before the sun comes up. I’m saying I love you, mîl, and that I can’t wait for you to open your eyes again, so we can continue where we stopped.”