Faramir is sure he doesn't want his brother
Chapter 8: Between Brothers[edit]
Faramir's eyes widened in shock. Of all the occurrences of the evening, this was by far the strangest.
It was the most possessive kiss that he had ever experienced. It was only the second time he'd been kissed, the first being by one of the citadel maids when he was but eleven. He had instigated all other kisses, as few as they were, but they weren't like this. Boromir's mouth was gentle but insistent, not asking but taking pleasure with no thought to refusal. Faramir could not stop his brother, having to ride out the sensations until Boromir pulled away.
"Stop, what are you doing?"
Boromir laughed. "Are you that much of an innocent yet, little brother? I should think it obvious."
"Do not mock me!"
"I am not. But tell me truly, was that your first kiss?"
Faramir's temper flared and he squirmed ineffectually beneath his brother's heavy body. "Of course not, you great fool. Although I admit that I have previously reserved my kisses for females only."
"I should like to watch you with one of your ladies, as you are nearly a woman yourself." Boromir's smirk came and went as Faramir tore his bound arms free and cracked his brother on the jaw.
"I am no woman, but a warrior. Not as you are--there is no finer swordsman than Boromir of Gondor--but I am worthy of respect. Twice this day you have called me less than a man: do you think so little of my skill? Would father have named me Captain of the Ithilien Rangers on a whim?"
"I know that isn't so. You throw quite a punch, Captain Faramir." Boromir rubbed his jaw. "So you are a warrior indeed. Well, surely you know then that it is not unusual to seek pleasure with other warriors, especially when we've not seen women in so long."
Boromir leaned down for another kiss. When Faramir's hands moved to push him away, he quickly slid his arms around his brother's body and rolled, pulling Faramir on top of him.
The young ranger twisted and fought, unable to get any leverage. His brother was running calloused hands under his shirt, stroking up and down his back then dipping lower to slip into Faramir's breeches. The feeling of Boromir's hard body below him was strange, and became terrifying when he noticed the hard arousal pushing rhythmically against him. That Faramir's own body responded in kind made him angry and disgusted with himself.
"Stop!" He managed to cry out when Boromir let him have a moment to breathe. Trying to pull his face away was a mistake, because Boromir took advantage of the new position to nuzzle and lick his brother's throat.
"You stop... stop squirming," Boromir said, annoyed. It was too difficult to hold Faramir's head back with one hand and try to remove his breeches with the other. He gave up quickly, rolling over again so that he sat astride his brother. "Why are you fighting me?"
"I do not want this!"
Boromir shook his head. "I know this is pleasing you, for I can feel it. Why do you deny me?"
"I deny you because this is wrong. If you were not so drunk you could see it."
"Do you not love me?"
Faramir gritted his teeth. "Of course I do. You're my brother."
"Then why..." Boromir seemed confused.
"You're my brother, not my lover! I do not know if I even want other men in this way."
Boromir's expression became more confident. "Ah, but you do. This is not the reaction of someone uninterested." Boromir reached down to stroke his brother's hardness.
"I do not want this," Faramir repeated his earlier words.
"Your body betrays you," Boromir said, his breath hot against Faramir's neck.
"I cannot help that: I know not why. I do know that you must stop now."
"I do not want to stop. I don't believe you truly want me to either."
"I do," Faramir said, swallowing thickly. "Boromir--you can't do this. It is wrong, and you will regret it. I have never lied to you, do you not believe me?"
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