Difference between revisions of "Boromir confesses to a sexual interest in Faramir"

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== Chapter 7: Twists and Turns ==
 
== Chapter 7: Twists and Turns ==
  
  
''this page added by liz ([mailto:elisabeth_larsen2@yahoo.com elisabeth_larsen2@yahoo.com])''
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''this page added by [[liz]] ([mailto:elisabeth_larsen2@yahoo.com elisabeth_larsen2@yahoo.com])''
  
  

Revision as of 03:29, 3 November 2005

Chapter 7: Twists and Turns

this page added by liz (elisabeth_larsen2@yahoo.com)


“What about me, exactly?” Faramir asked, trying to turn over before his brother’s boot halted his efforts. “And get your filthy boot off of my back, Boromir.”

Ignoring Faramir, Boromir put his other foot up and then crossed his legs; using prone sibling as a foot stool. “My lieutenant Tirion, he and I were drinking in a tavern a week ago. Do you know Tirion, Faramir? I think you and he may have met on some occasion.”

Boromir trailed off for a moment before realising Faramir was glaring at him and still wriggling. “Quit moving you!” He snarled and then let his right foot drop down on Faramir with a speed that made his younger brother yelp.

Faramir laid still, infuriated and swiftly becoming unnerved with his brother’s erratic behaviour.

“Now where was I?” Boromir mused to himself.

“You and Tirion were drunk in a tavern.” Faramir snapped, his back beginning to hurt from the kick and added weight of Boromir’s feet.

“Ah yes, the tavern. Well, the lieutenant pointed out to me that you were a rather handsome young man.”

Faramir waited for the rest of the story and then when nothing came, he gave up trying to humour his drunken ass of a brother. “That’s bloody it? You tied me up and dragged me here just to tell me that one of your men thinks I’m handsome?” By the end Faramir was shouting and felt himself quite justified.

Boromir looked at him, and then took his feet of Faramir’s back before crouching down beside him. “If you aren’t going to be quiet, then I will help you be still. Do I need to help you?”

Faramir stared at his brother’s unflinching gaze and then slowly looked to where Boromir still grasped the knife. The younger man swallowed and shook his head ‘no’.

Boromir grinned and then leaned back on his heels. “As I was saying, Tirion mentioned to me that you were rather handsome. I, of course hadn’t given it much thought until then. Until he told me to look at you through another’s eyes and not that of a brother’s. Do you know what I found Faramir?”

Faramir closed his eyes and shook his head again. Nor did he care overly much, as long as he could get out of this situation and back to Ithilien quickly.

“You are quite handsome; you have long legs and soft skin.” Boromir said softly. His foot began to trail over Faramir’s leg almost without the elder brother’s knowledge. “You have a strong, wise face and a good chest.” The foot kept going until it was placed between Faramir’s shoulder blades. “Don’t rub your foot in my hair please,” Faramir stated wryly as Boromir’s boot caressed his back. Wherever this was going, it was certainly something to hold over his brother’s head for the rest of eternity.

“I found that you are handsome; and I think I need to do something about it.” Boromir whispered into his brother’s ear before flipping him over onto his back. Quickly, he straddled Faramir and gave the shocked young man a drunken smile. “You know what men do in the army little brother. Come, join me in revelry.”

Faramir lay there stunned, and it was only when he felt Boromir’s warm hands trail to his shirt laces that he snapped to the present. “Boromir, what? No; no get off me. Get off me now.” Faramir struggled, but his hands were still tied and his escape bid was ineffective.

Boromir’s hands pulled the shirt out of his brother’s breeches before slipping his hands underneath the rub Faramir’s bare chest. “Do you like this,” he whispered, looking hard into his brother’s desperate face. “Does it excite you?”

“Nay,” Faramir said desperately yet the rough hands brushing his nipples before going down to his navel were indeed exciting his body. Breathing was becoming difficult, and a strange, light-headedness was overtaking him. “You are my brother, Boromir. You’re drunk. Get off, go away.”

“Are you sure?” Boromir asked softly, before leaning down and with a gentleness that was just as unlike him as the recent cruelty he took Faramir’s mouth possessively with his own.



What happens next?