"SHAN'T!"
"GET THEE GONE!"
The forge door slammed, and Fingolfin stormed past Maglor and Finarfin in a huff, not looking at them - Maglor got the sense that Fingolfin was so absorbed in his anger he didn't even notice they were approaching.
Now Finarfin paused, took Maglor by the wrist, and Maglor also froze in his tracks. They glanced up at the forge - Maglor could feel the forge practically vibrating with the force of Fëanor's anger. Then they looked at each other and Finarfin shook his head just in time to hear something crash against the wall and then there was a shattering sound, as if Fëanor had thrown something glass in his anger.
Finarfin led the way, turning around, and Maglor followed. They had meant to get Fëanor to take a break and join them for afternoon tea, but they hadn't known Fingolfin was also paying Fëanor a visit and... that hadn't gone well.
Again.
Three months ago, their dead kin had been released from Mandos, per Finarfin's request - the Valar had offered him three boons for his valor in defeating Morgoth, and that had been one of them. Another was changing the Laws so adults could love as they will, and Finarfin had wed Maglor as his consort. But long before Maglor and Finarfin confessed their feelings for each other and began their incestuous love affair, Finarfin had been lovers with his two elder brothers; Fëanor had pretended animosity with them to keep their relationship secret in the days when it was against the Laws. And that knowledge had stirred desire in Maglor, hoping that when his father and uncle returned, they could all share the love and lust together.
But Fëanor and Fingolfin had not fully healed, not from their tragedies in life nor from the bitter rift between them that culminated in Fëanor burning the ships so Fingolfin and his host could not use them upon the Helcaraxë. And it seemed to Maglor that as more time passed since their re-embodiment, the deeper that chasm grew between them. As they watched Fingolfin keep marching on, indignant, Maglor feared Fingolfin and Fëanor would never reconcile.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, though there was a shadow over mealtime, and Maglor still felt tense and agitated even during his nightly bath, which usually relaxed him. Finarfin also seemed distant, his thoughts far away. That night they didn't make love, but held each other, seeming to both understand they needed the extra comfort, saddened by the continuing conflict between Fëanor and Fingolfin.
Such was Maglor's stress that he couldn't fall asleep, and though Finarfin had his eyes closed for awhile Maglor could tell that he hadn't gone to sleep yet either, and after awhile Finarfin opened his eyes and lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his body tense.
Maglor sat up. Finarfin gave a deep sigh and also sat up, though he reclined against the pillows while Maglor's posture was more upright.
"You know, if you want to go to Fëanor to... console him..." Maglor realized he could feel his father's distress in the Song, and knew it had to be much more intense for Finarfin, having an empathic bond with his lovers.
Finarfin vehemently shook his head. "Since they came back, I haven't... resumed relations."
Maglor's mouth opened. Somehow he knew that, but this was the first time Finarfin acknowledged it aloud, and the weight of it fell like a blow. "No?"
"It would feel like a betrayal, like disloyalty, if I was intimate with either of them while they were fighting with each other. As much as I long for them, I would be making things worse - fueling the fire of hatred even more - if I attempted to go back and forth between them." Finarfin buried his face in his hands. "What a mess."
When Finarfin took his face out of his hands their eyes met and Maglor nodded in agreement and support. He put a hand on his husband's shoulder. "It is not your fault, Ara."
Finarfin gave a bitter laugh. "I still feel helpless. Most of all because this led to Fëanor's destruction before. I worry that as time goes on, if this wound does not heal, he will do something else that..." Finarfin's voice trailed off.
Maglor closed his eyes. Finarfin didn't need to finish that sentence - in Maglor's mind's eye, he watched Fëanor die in his arms. Fëanor had been brave but foolish, standing against the Balrog ambush instead of trying to retreat. Like Fingolfin, he knew he was doomed and he still gave it his all... but it also felt like a form of suicide. Maglor opened his eyes and he saw that Finarfin's own were too bright. Finarfin made a "come here" gesture and Maglor leaned in; Finarfin pulled him close and held him tight, tenderly stroking Maglor's hair. Maglor wrapped strands of Finarfin's silver-gold hair around his fingers like he was clinging to the memory of the Trees, the days before it all fell apart.
For a few moments they lay there, holding each other - Maglor listened to Finarfin's heartbeat and could feel that love for Fëanor burning, aching. Maglor, too, felt helpless, wishing so much there was something he could do to fix the situation, to bring Fëanor and Fingolfin back together again...
"Kanafinwë." Finarfin's soft voice broke the silence. "I have an idea."
Maglor's eyebrows went up, and he waited.
"As you know..." Finarfin chuckled, knowing he was borrowing Fingolfin's favorite phrase. "I had hired builders for that vacation home on Tol Eressëa, and it is ready."
Maglor nodded. A holiday sounded nice, to get away from the stifling, stormy atmosphere of Fëanor and Fingolfin hating each other.
"I feel that if I reach out to Fëanor and try to reason with him, Fingolfin will get angry with me and think I'm taking sides. But you are his son, and Fingolfin cannot fault you for trying to help your father." Finarfin's lips quirked and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "And perhaps you could convince Fëanor to behave by... applying the lessons I've taught you."
Maglor's breath hitched and he felt that thrust in his loins, remembering the ways he dominated Maedhros, applying those lessons. He knew that Finarfin's first submissive had been Fëanor himself, who had been regularly disciplined by the Valar and wanted to reclaim his body by letting Finarfin punish him the same way, but for pleasure. The thought of binding Fëanor, spanking him, flogging him... making Fëanor surrender, in that same delicious submissive space that Maglor was familiar with when Finarfin dominated him... Maglor shuddered and his cock began to stiffen.
And then Maglor felt a twinge of guilt. "You and I were supposed to go on holiday there. That home was for us -"
"Yes, but there will be time enough for that, and... Fëanor needs help." Finarfin took Maglor's chin in his hand, kissed his brow, slid his lips down Maglor's nose, and then claimed his mouth. "And you're my good, helpful boy, aren't you?"
Maglor's cock stiffened even more - he so loved it when Finarfin called him a good boy. "Yes."
Though Maglor desired Fëanor, he had not confessed or acted upon his desire since Fëanor's re-embodiment - Fëanor was in a foul mood much of the time and Maglor felt it was too fraught to try to make a move. But perhaps a change of scenery would help mellow Fëanor, and from there...
Finarfin began to palm the bulge in Maglor's sleep-breeches. "What do we have here?"
Maglor grinned at him. "Why don't you get a better look and find out?"
They kissed again - this time deeper, longer, and then they kissed open-mouthed, tongues licking and teasing. Finarfin tugged down Maglor's sleep-breeches and took Maglor's hard cock in his hand, stroking it slowly. "You like my idea, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Because you're a cock-hungry slut."
Maglor's cock leapt in Finarfin's hand. The only thing Maglor liked more than being called a good boy was being called a slut. And soon... he would call Fëanor a slut. That thought almost undid him; Maglor bit his lip and made a strangled noise of sexual need.
Finarfin pulled down his own sleep-breeches and Maglor gave an appreciative moan as he looked at Finarfin's own cock, already fully hard and dripping pre-spend. "I look forward to watching you and my brother engage in slut-on-slut love," Finarfin purred. "Talented sluts you both are."
This time Maglor initiated the kiss, fierce and passionate. He stroked Finarfin's cock as Finarfin stroked his, slowly, sensually, building the tension to fever pitch. Finarfin began to kiss and lick Maglor's neck, knowing how sensitive Maglor was there.
Their sleep clothes came off and they fell on each other, kissing, rubbing their tongues together... rubbing their hard, slick cocks together. Finarfin resumed kissing, licking and nibbling Maglor's neck, and Maglor rutted against him more insistently, aching for release.
Of course, Finarfin wasn't going to give in right away. He kissed his way down to Maglor's hard nipples, and lapped and suckled at one as his thumb brushed the other, as their cocks continued to rub and tease. Maglor arched to him, clutching at Finarfin's head, moaning as Finarfin's talented tongue made Maglor's nipples swell and glisten. Back and forth Finarfin went, pinching and plucking one nipple, sucking hard on the other, until Maglor was writhing, panting, going out of his mind with lust and sensation.
All sense of time seemed to stop as Finarfin pleasured Maglor's nipples, and then at last, Finarfin's tongue slid down Maglor's stomach, and Finarfin kissed here, licked there, making Maglor even more feverish, begging "Please Ara, please..."
And then, Finarfin took Maglor's cock in his mouth, sucking slowly, their eyes locked. Finarfin played with Maglor's balls as he worked on Maglor's cock. Maglor trembled, gasping for breath, so close, yet Finarfin kept his orgasm just out of reach, building and building the pleasure.
Finarfin let Maglor's cock slip from his mouth and licked up the shaft and back down, then up again, and his tongue circled around and around the head. Maglor moaned and bucked his hips. "Please, Ara. Please, please..."
"You want to come in my mouth, slut?"
Of course Maglor did, but... "I want to taste you, too."
Finarfin smiled. "Good boy."
Finarfin came up to kiss him, letting Maglor taste his own pre-spend, and then they got in position, heads between each other's legs, cocks in each other's mouths. It felt so decadent to worship Finarfin's gorgeous cock while Finarfin pleasured him, and once again Maglor got lost in that place of desire and pleasure, where nothing else mattered but hot, needy cock, both of them hungry for it. They moaned with their mouths full - Maglor bobbed his head, sucking hard and fast, and Finarfin stopped his slow teasing and sucked Maglor in earnest. Maglor got closer, closer, trying to hold back and savor, but the tension wound to the shatterpoint and Maglor took Finarfin's hands and squeezed, letting out an urgent little whimper that let Finarfin know he was right there.
They came together - Maglor loved the salty-sweetness of Finarfin's spend, drinking it greedily, swallowing down what he could. There was so much of it that the seed spilled from the corners of his mouth, down his chin and neck. When Finarfin sat up, Maglor saw his own spend on Finarfin's chin, and smiled at it. They kissed, making a sloppy mess with the lingering seed on their tongues, messier still as they licked their tongues together. Then Maglor, like the good slut he was, began to lick his own spend from Finarfin's chin. When Finarfin did the same to him, licking Maglor's neck, Maglor hardened up again, craving more.
Finarfin laughed softly. "Such a slut."
"This is what you do to me, husband."
Finarfin kissed him and they tumbled down to the pillows, kissing and kissing like there was nothing else. Finarfin's cock rose again and Finarfin took both their cocks in his hand, stroking them. The tight grip of Finarfin's fist and the feel of the silken steel of Finarfin's cock rubbing up and down his own cock drove Maglor wild, rocking his hips, running his hands over Finarfin's body, worshiping him, aflame with desire. Soon Finarfin was kissing his neck again, and Maglor felt himself climbing that edge, trying not to lose it too soon but their cocks rubbing together in the vise of Finarfin's hand was too delicious. Maglor looked down and saw streamers of pre-spend flowing between their cocks and the erotic sight set him off, coming with a cry.
As Maglor's seed poured over Finarfin's cock, Finarfin climaxed as well, and Maglor's orgasm intensified as he watched cock creaming cock, the spend flowing and flowing. No matter how many times they'd done this it was still one of Maglor's favorite things, feeling cock pulsing against cock, the hot seed gushing down their shafts... evidence of their passion. They kissed again, groaning into the kiss, and then they sighed together, tenderly rubbing noses.
"I love you," Finarfin whispered.
"I love you." Maglor touched his face. "I'm going to miss you." As much as he was looking forward to the prospect of seducing Fëanor and - hopefully - putting a stop to this senseless feud with Fingolfin, the thought of being apart from Finarfin for weeks was almost unbearable. He'd come so close to losing him, when Finarfin went to fight Morgoth, who had taken Formenos. That had been months ago, but war left deep wounds.
"We'll make up for lost time when you return." Finarfin smirked. "All of us."
Once again, Maglor's mind's eye indulged in the luscious fantasy of an orgy with his father, uncles, and perhaps Maedhros and Fingon as well... but he knew he had his work cut out for him with Fëanor.
"You should bring a palantir so we can keep in touch." Finarfin's smirk became a grin - the words "keep in touch" had double meaning, Maglor recalling when Finarfin had looked in the palantir during rest times while the war was happening, and Maglor and Maedhros had put on a show for him.
"I hope I'll produce something worth watching," Maglor said.
"I'm sure you will. I wouldn't have suggested the plan if I didn't think it would work, given time."
Maglor hoped Finarfin was right. He leaned on Finarfin's shoulder, the exhaustion of his worry catching up with him. Finarfin rocked and pet him, and Maglor melted to his touch, letting his cares roll away into the great dark tide of sleep.
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