"I have a present for you, Kanafinwë."
In the early light of Laurelin, Maglor and Finarfin were getting ready to start their day - Maglor would be exiting through the secret passageways so nobody would know he spent the night in Finarfin's bedchamber, again - and they were in the closet now, for Finarfin to give Maglor his usual "farewell, till this evening" kiss.
Maglor waited - this was certainly a surprise - and watched as Finarfin pulled something from a pocket in his robe.
The object was made of glass. The top was a conical egg shape, with a stem and a wide, flat bottom. In the dark closet, the glass glowed like it was made of green stars. It reminded Maglor of the Fëanorian lamps, and indeed, it was a work of art like the lamps had been.
"What is it?" Maglor asked.
Finarfin handed Maglor the glass plug, then pulled out a vial of oil from the same pocket. "It goes inside you. It's to tease you and keep you open for me... if you consent."
Maglor's eyes widened and then he laughed, delighted. "Yes."
Finarfin turned Maglor around, pulled down Maglor's breeches and smallclothes and slicked his hole, then pushed the glass plug inside him, bit by bit. There was that familiar feeling of being stretched and filled. When it was all the way in, the tip caressed that sweet spot inside him and Maglor's breath hitched.
Finarfin slapped Maglor's ass and pulled his pants back up. When Maglor turned back around, they kissed deeply. The kiss became so passionate that Finarfin backed Maglor up against the closet wall... and with each step the plug rubbed up against that inner sensitive spot and Maglor couldn't help grinding against his uncle. Every little motion made that plug rub him some more, and by the time they pulled apart, looking into each other's eyes, Maglor was breathless.
Then Maglor laughed again, feeling giddy. "It's a lovely gift, Ara. Thank you."
Finarfin touched Maglor's face. "A lovely piece of art... for a lovely arse."
Maglor grinned. Then he spoke aloud what he'd been thinking when he saw the plug. "It looks like one of my father's lamps."
"Yes, it does. He's the one who made it."
Maglor's mouth opened. He knew he shouldn't have been too surprised - Fëanor did so love shiny, glowing things - but it shocked him nonetheless, not the least of which this implied. "He made this? For... your late lover?" Maglor pursed his lips. He normally didn't like thinking about Finarfin having been with other men, even as he knew that was unfair... but now he was more curious than he was envious. He wanted to know more about this relationship, and most of all, why his father knew about it to such an intimate degree that he had crafted a plug for that lover's hole.
"Yes, your father was... aware of my proclivities, let us say." Finarfin smirked.
Maglor cocked his head to one side, the curiosity burning. "What did my father think of him?"
The smirk became a smile that seemed both amused and wistful at once. Finarfin didn't reply to that with words, only kissed Maglor's brow. "Run along now," he said, patting Maglor's shoulders, "and we'll meet this evening as usual."
Maglor's mind continued to spin with curiosity, but as the day wore on he was increasingly unable to think at all. The plug teased him with each step... and most of all when he spent time with Maedhros in the afternoon, sparring against each other then going for a walk to the beach together. Maedhros stripping down to his smallclothes and wading into the ocean did nothing to cool Maglor's lust for him, and the plug constantly rubbing against that spot inside him made Maglor ache for real cock.
Maedhros's cock.
Of course, Maglor couldn't admit that aloud. The weight of his newly realized feelings was just one more burden he carried, one more wound he hid. Even without the incest, or the potential for discovery, Maglor felt like it was disloyal to Fingon's memory, somehow.
Even Arafinwë moved on, eventually. But Maglor remembered that sad smile in the closet, the way Finarfin couldn't even speak the name of his late lover, and it seemed like centuries had passed. Fingon's death seemed more recent memory, and if Maedhros wasn't horrified that his own brother wanted to fuck him, Maglor was sure Maedhros with his fiery temper would be offended at the mere concept of a "replacement".
The wait for the sunset had never been so agonizing - needing Finarfin like never before.
The plug glowed more faintly in the candlelight. A softer green... like Finarfin's eyes.
Maglor looked at the plug resting on the bedtable, and into Finarfin's eyes, and mused aloud. "The plug is the color of your eyes... and the lamps my father made are the same shade of blue as Ñolofinwë's eyes." Speaking the name of his other uncle aloud after all these years was like ripping open a wound... but this was a moment to honor his memory.
In Maglor's mind's eye, he could still see Fingolfin so clearly. And just as he had noticed Maedhros for the first time a few weeks ago, now he was noticing Fingolfin, from his memories. He had been a beautiful man.
Maglor wondered if Fingolfin had lived, would Fingolfin take comfort with their bodies. The thought of Fingolfin joining in, making love with them both...
A shiver went down Maglor's spine and his hard cock jolted and throbbed, excited by the delicious mental images. His face burned with shame. It was bad enough to want Finarfin this way, to commit incest with him this way. It was worse that he lusted for Maedhros. Now this, thinking erotic thoughts about Fingolfin. Wishing that he had realized the attraction while Fingolfin was still alive, maybe Fingolfin would have lived and not gone on his suicide mission against Morgoth if he'd been touched, loved...
Or maybe he would have spurned you because of the Laws. He was an honorable, decent man.
Maglor looked at Finarfin again, who had not reacted yet to the commentary on how the plug resembled his eyes, or how the lamps resembled Fingolfin's eyes. Maglor wondered if Finarfin could sense somehow that he was thinking about Fingolfin like that.
Finarfin did not remark on Maglor's observation, but moved in closer and pulled Maglor into a kiss. One kiss became another, and another, and then their tongues were licking, teasing, as they began to stroke each other's cocks.
Maglor ached for the loss of Fingolfin and he knew from Finarfin's silence he was hurting too. More than anything, Maglor wanted to offer comfort to the living, to express his passion for the man he'd loved all his life... the man who'd saved his life, by taking him in and giving him a second chance.
"What would you like, hántya?" Maglor whispered, touching Finarfin's cheek, then stroking his hair. "I want to take care of your needs, tonight."
"Such a good boy." Finarfin sucked on Maglor's lower lip, then they kissed again. Finarfin kissed and licked Maglor's neck, making Maglor shiver, his cock leaping in Finarfin's hand. Finarfin continued kissing Maglor's neck as he considered Maglor's offer, and at last he looked into Maglor's eyes and said, "I would like to suspend you, tonight. I love to see you fly for me."
Maglor smiled. He loved the rush, the fear of falling giving way to the exhilaration of being held safe in the air by the bonds of the man he trusted with his life. That feeling of freedom when he surrendered so completely. "I'd like that."
And so, Finarfin bound Maglor to hang from the slats in the canopy of his bed. It was long, elaborate ropework, tying and tying, knotting and knotting, but at last Maglor was in the air on his stomach a few feet above the mattress. Even with not so far to fall there was still dizziness, and a bit of helplessness as well. But most of all there was love, seeing the adoration in Finarfin's eyes as he surveyed his handiwork.
"Exquisite," Finarfin said softly.
Finarfin walked across the room to a bookshelf and produced a large tome. When he opened it up, the book was hollow - and contained what looked like tools, as well as some other glass objects like the one Maglor had worn in his ass all day. Finarfin picked up a metal pinwheel and brought it over, then he climbed onto the bed.
First Finarfin worked on Maglor's back, running the spiked wheel over his flesh around the ropes, lightly scratching him. Finarfin's free hand caressed where the spikes had bitten, sensitizing him even more. Maglor moaned, cock throbbing, hole twitching, as Finarfin dragged the pinwheel up and down his back, over his shoulders and arms, back and forth across the back of his thighs and calves, his fingers sensually sliding in the wake of the sharp little points.
Then Finarfin slid under Maglor's body and did the same with the front of him, the spikes of the pinwheel tracing around the outline of the ropes... around and over Maglor's hard nipples... across his stomach, then rolling up and down the hard, dripping shaft, with his fingers and tongue in the wake of the spikes. Maglor cried out as the spikes gently poked his cock, and cried out again as Finarfin licked his cock, and the way his body shivered made him sway in the ropes. The swinging back and forth while he was up in the air was another rush, and Maglor laughed with the exhilaration.
Finarfin ran the pinwheel over Maglor's ass cheeks, one then the other, licking in the pathways, kissing. Finarfin paused to watch Maglor's hole twitch again, and then Finarfin slapped Maglor's ass hard, making Maglor swing in the ropes again. Maglor moaned and laughed some more, enjoying the feeling of flight.
Maglor moaned louder when he felt Finarfin's tongue circle around his opening. "Hántya..."
"Your hole looks so inviting, open for me like this. I think I will have you wear the plug every day."
Maglor shuddered and his cock pulsed - he loved that idea, even as he remembered how much the plug had teased him to distraction. It was going to be harder to resist how he felt for Maedhros if he was being teased all day every day...
...and yet there was something thrilling about that, besides the naughty thrill of wearing the plug under his clothes all day to be open and ready for Finarfin. "As you wish," Maglor said.
Finarfin smacked Maglor's ass. "Good boy."
With that, Finarfin began to lick at Maglor's passage, fast then slow then fast again, knowing how to change the rhythm to tease him, driving Maglor deeper and deeper into sensation and surrender until Maglor was a trembling, panting, whimpering wreck. His cock was dripping pre-spend down onto the sheets. "Please, hántya. Take me. Fuck me."
Finarfin chuckled and just kept eating at him, tongue lapping, lashing, fluttering, brushing, fucking. Finarfin moaned into Maglor's ass and knowing Finarfin loved doing this just as much as Maglor loved having it done, made Maglor want him even more.
At last, when Maglor was sobbing, begging until he could no longer make words to beg, Finarfin let up. He lowered Maglor down and untied him, and once Maglor was unbound, Finarfin leaned back against the pillows and drew Maglor onto his lap. Together, they slicked Finarfin's rock-hard cock, which was already plenty wet from pre-spend. "Ride me," Finarfin growled.
Maglor straddled Finarfin's hips and sank down. Finarfin held him and kissed him passionately as his cock pushed into Maglor's hole bit by bit. Maglor grabbed onto him and rode hard, feverish, completely lost in rutting frenzy, needing to come but more than that needing to fuck. Their bodies slapped together, almost louder than their broken cries. Finarfin kissed, licked and bit Maglor's neck, then his sensitive pierced nipples, and Maglor rode for all he was worth, as if the fire of their hot, needy fuck could burn away the darkness and cold that they had both wandered in for so long.
With their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's breath, they took each other's hands, shaking against each other as they felt their orgasm building. Maglor could feel Finarfin's pleasure and lust as well as his own, so connected to him... so intimate. And when Maglor was right there, Finarfin took Maglor's face in his hands and kissed him as if it were the first time, the last time, all there ever was, and Maglor exploded, coming on Finarfin's chest. Two hard thrusts later Finarfin threw his head back and let out a shuddery sigh, and Maglor moaned at that wonderful feel of Finarfin's molten flow, claiming him deep inside.
"I love you," Finarfin said.
"I love you." Maglor kissed him back, and they held each other tight, rocking together as their pleasure throbbed and passion gave way to peace.
Just before Maglor drifted off in Finarfin's arms, his eyes caught a glimpse of the plug glowing with its green stars, and he had another moment of curiosity as to what Fëanor knew about Finarfin's late lover and the relationship, how they had gotten along... to the point of crafting something so intimate, so explicit. More and more, it seemed like everything he'd known about his father was almost like knowing nothing at all, except that Fëanor had loved his sons fiercely, and they had been fiercely loyal right back, even unto death. It seemed perhaps Fëanor loved his brothers just as much, but had to pretend otherwise. Why? Why could they not be friends, even unto Fëanor getting himself exiled for it?
He didn't want to ask Finarfin about it and rip open more old wounds. But the thought kept him awake a little while, before the rhythm of Finarfin's heart lulled him to sleep.
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