"Washed Away." LOTR FPS. NC-17. Aragorn/Boromir.

[savageseraph.livejournal.com]

Title: "Washed Away"
Author: Barbara savageseraph
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters or the places. Never happed. All a product of my twisted imagination
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Comments: Written for alex_quine for lotr_sesa 2008. alex_quine asked for Aragorn/Boromir, Boromir/Theodred, or Faramir/Eomer; and her prompt was "cleanliness."




Aragorn frowned as he scrubbed at his chest. The herbal scent of the soap, the clear water in the pool, neither was enough to wash away the shadows and stain Moria left on him. The scent of old stone and old bones, of decay long since turned to dust. The stink of sulphur and smoke, of rusted armor and weapons. The reek of goblin and stagnant water. He swallowed hard. None of it would wash off.

"Give me the soap." The words were firm, the crack of command clear in Boromir's tone. When Aragorn made no move to comply, Boromir took the soap. He sighed heavily, touched pink skin. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get clean." His skin tingled under Boromir's fingers. "It won't come off." He exhaled a long, soft sigh.

Boromir shook his head as he stepped behind Aragorn. "Maybe you should ask for help." He rubbed the soap between his palms, making a frothy lather before setting it on a rock at the edge of the pool. "It's okay to ask." He slid his palms over Aragorn's chest, murmured in his ear, "You do it like this."

The gentle strokes did feel better than his frantic scrubbing. They soothed him enough for him to relax and lean back against Boromir. When Aragorn's eyes slipped closed, he wasn't lost in oppressive darkness, not when warm palms glided smoothly over his skin. He swallowed a soft moan when Boromir's fingertips brushed across his nipples, teasing and pinching gently.

"That's better, isn't it?"

The words were a soft purr that made Aragorn shiver as he nodded in response. As Boromir's hands slid lower, stroked across his abdomen, he tensed in anticipation of them moving lower still, curling around him, stroking. He pressed back more firmly against Boromir, rubbing his body against the other man's.

"Hush." Boromir kissed along his collarbone toward his neck as his fingers traced circles around Aragorn's navel. "You're always so impatient. You always want to be the one to lead."

"I don't..." Aragorn drew in a sharp breath as Boromir's fingers slid lower, curled around him. His thumb traced lazy circles over the head of Aragorn's cock as Aragorn shifted, tried to thrust into Boromir's hand.

"Yes, you do." Boromir stepped in front of Aragorn, wrapped an arm around his waist, tugged Aragorn against him. He moved his hand, pressed his erection against Aragorn's, and closed Aragorn's fingers around them both. "You do." Boromir's fingers curled around Aragorn's, squeezed enough to make them both moan.

Aragorn struggled a little as Boromir guided their strokes, keeping them long and slow. When Aragorn fell into the same rhythm, Boromir murmured, "Just like that." The words were both caution and command as Boromir moved his hand, lathered up his palms again, rubbed at Aragorn's back. His hands slid lower, cupping Aragorn's ass and kneading firmly.

Without thinking, Aragorn shifted, his back arching as he widened his stance, parted his legs.

Boromir laughed softly as his grip tightened. "I know what you want." The voice was smug. Certain. "What you crave." Boromir spread him, one finger slipping between his cheeks to circle his opening before pressing in slowly.

Aragorn whined softly, flushed at the ease of the thrust, even without anything to smooth its way. He'd been ridden enough to take it. And more. Boromir's thrusts were all slow friction and slower tease until he curled his fingers, laughing as Aragorn tensed and jerked against him.

When a second finger slid in, Aragorn moaned deeply, pressed back into the thrusts. He drove forward into his hand, rubbing his cock against Boromir's enough to draw a deep groan from the other man. Boromir rocked his hips in response, rubbing more firmly against Aragorn.

When Aragorn opened his mouth to cry out, Boromir covered his mouth with his own, his kiss hungry, demanding. Possessive. Aragorn shuddered, clamped down on Boromir's fingers as he came. The other man's hips jerked several times as he followed.

Boromir eased his fingers free, lingered over a kiss now transformed into a sweet, gentle tease. He pulled back reluctantly, wet his lips. "Clean enough now?"

The lingering dark of Moria still tugged at him, and it would be so easy to slip back into it. That served no good purpose, so Aragorn shrugged slightly as he pushed doubt and despair away. "I think you might have missed a spot."

"Is that so?" Boromir slid a finger down Aragorn's spine. "Well then, how about we get you good and dirty before your next dip in the pool, hmm?"

Aragorn nodded, curled his arms tightly around Boromir. Unlike the stench of death and darkness in Moria, golden heat and living passion wouldn't leave him sullied, and he never wanted to wash them away.

Comments

[alex-quine.livejournal.com]

Wow! A moment of anxiety and sorrow turns into a wonderful sensual, tender scene filled with determination not to let the darkness win...what a splendid SESA gift...thankyou so much, I greatly appreciate this.

[savageseraph.livejournal.com]

You're very, very welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it. ^_^

[liars-dance.livejournal.com]

Yummy *smacks lips* I do so love Boromir when he lets Aragorn know that he understands what he wants - and also love Boromir when he's in command and puts Aragorn in his place! Delicious :)

[govi20.livejournal.com]

That was beautiful, so tender and loving. A wonderful gift indeed.

[makamu]

Nicely done and very hot while still being deep. :)

[ribby.livejournal.com]

Oh... I hadn't thought Aragorn would feel like this, but now I can see it--and the only cure for soul-dirt is love, I think...

Gorgeously rendered, touching and tender and wonderfully hot!

~Kris