Lack of Privacy: 1. Privacy

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1. Privacy

This was written in response to teasing by IgnobleBard that I had cut out the smut from the story I wrote him for his birthday and Halloween, "Do You Believe in Ghosts?" So, here it is, only a slightly belated Christmas present.

Lack of Privacy

Maitimo tried to read, stretched out on the sofa in the front parlor. He did not pretend, even to himself, that he was doing anything but listening for Findekáno. When Findekáno had stormed out of the house earlier, betrayal and disappointment had clouded his face, along with outraged pride. Maitimo feared this time he might not come back. He would wait another hour before riding into Tirion himself.

A lot of good that would do them, he thought. If he went after Findekáno, they would be forced to sit in Anairë's formal parlor, listening to Nolofinwë drone on about politics, the need for a new sewer system, or, more accurately, the politics of a new sewer system, to any guests he entertained that evening. If he stayed at Nolofinwë's house in Tirion, it was highly unlikely that he and Findekáno would find a moment alone before retiring to separate rooms for night. In the morning, of course, he would face Nolofinwë's stiff disapproval and Anairë's anxiety about why he had arrived so late the night before uninvited.

Maitimo worried that he and Findekáno might have finally reached an impasse. The same argument, identical conclusion, and the best he could hope for was the grace of yet another temporary reconciliation.

Just then he heard the sound of an approaching horse. He was out the front door in an instant. Findekáno stopped sharply, stones and debris flying. The mare whinnied in greeting. Findekáno flew off his horse and ran up the steps. The mare, knowing her master's habits, turned slowly to meander toward the stable, stopping now and again to munch at a cluster of grass. 

The light of Telperion cast everything in shades of black, silvery white or grey: the startling blue of Findekáno's eyes were the only spots of color in the entire scene spread out before him. As Findekáno stepped into the rectangle of light provided by the lamp in the front parlor, Maitimo saw two bright spots of color on his high cheekbones, full, sensuous lips nearly red, parted in a half-smile, and those indigo eyes glittering with hope and penitence.

It was with difficulty, and a superb sense of balance, that Maitimo remained upright when Findekáno catapulted himself against him, an assault of long legs, hard muscle, and demanding lips.

Halting his onslaught only for a moment, Findekáno whispered, "I am so sorry."

"Shh. Káno." Maitimo could not speak again for several minutes, too overcome with relief and the need to cover that lovely mouth with kisses. Findekáno had wrapped his legs around Maitimo's waist, who leaned hard against a pillar on the veranda trying to support Findekáno's weight.

Laughing and grunting, while Findekáno planted desperate kisses all over his face and neck, Maitimo laughed, asking,  "Have you any idea how incredibly heavy you are? You are going to hurt me sometime doing that. Or yourself."

"You always catch me. You wouldn't complain if we were lying down," Findekáno said, before capturing him in another wide open-mouthed kiss.

Finally, Maitimo broke away panting, forcing Findekáno back onto his feet. He took Findekáno's face in his hands and released a shuddering breath. "Sometimes I think you will drive me mad with wanting you."

"Well, there you are entirely wrong. Quite the contrary, I bring you back to yourself when you are in danger of becoming lost in all of this," said Findekáno. Maitimo clearly understood that the sweeping gesture of Findekáno's hand toward the house was intended to include all of his immediate family and their daily dramas and quarrels, but particularly his father.

"Let's go take care of your horse."

After they had curried and watered the mare, they ambled back toward house hand-in-hand, stopping occasionally for another soft kiss. Findekáno never held a grudge, quick to anger but equally swift to reconcile. There were times when Maitimo scarcely believe his good fortune, without him he would have fallen far too easily into moping. But who could stay gloomy in the presence of the ever-tactile Findekáno of the quicksilver smile and heart as big as the sea. 

"I am so bloody tired of being quiet."

 "You never are." Maitimo chuckled. "Oops. Wrong subject to raise after this afternoon. I promise I will think of a solution. I realize we cannot go on like this. Meanwhile, I promise not to complain when you feel you must go back into the city."

Pulling him into another rough embrace, Findekáno kissed him harder, biting at his top and bottom lips. "I have something to tell you. But I want to surprise you with it later. Oh, don't look so worried. You are going to like it. For now, can we go out back, somewhere where we can be alone?"

"Let's get a blanket or two from the house."

Maitimo put out the lamp as they passed through front parlor. No one else appeared to be downstairs until they entered the last room at the back of house. There, Curufinwë and Macalaurë bent over a board game, an unlikely combination on every level.

"Hey," Findekáno said. Maitimo rummaged in the built-in wooden cupboards along one wall until he found two well-worn blankets suitable for outside use.

"Hey yourself," said Curufinwë. "You were missed at supper. The chicken tasted like wood. And you were not there to object when the blame was squarely placed upon you for Nelyo's execrable cooking."

Findekáno shrugged and grinned in response. "Even with my wit and charm, I might have been hard pressed to defend myself against that."

Macalaurë looked at him and sighed. "Glad you're back. Amil has been fussing and worrying about the two of you."

"No privacy around here is there?" Findekáno said.

"You are telling me that?" Macalaurë said, shaking his head with disheartenment.   

"When is Vingarië coming back?" Findekáno asked.

"She might be here tomorrow. Certainly by the day after."

"I have some good news. I should wait for Vingarië and tell all of you together. But I think I am going to burst trying to keep it to myself. Maitimo, come over and sit down." Findekáno had already collapsed on ancient, sloping sofa next to Macalaurë. He pulled Maitimo down next to him. 

"It is kind of a long story, but I will try to make it short..."

"Ai, Kano, you introductions alone rival most people's stories in length," Curufinwë sighed.

Findekáno, never easily provoked, smirked affably at Curufinwë.

"Well, then, let me see. Where do I start," Findekáno said in an exaggerated drawl, looking out the corner of his eye to catch Curufinwë's eye. "I got home in plenty of time for dinner. Turned out Haru and Indis were there. I went off to clean up and Haru knocked on my door while I was dressing. He wanted to know what was bothering me. I blurted out the whole story. How Maitimo and I fight all the time. How we cannot get our own place because Atar would not stand for it, would claim it would create a scandal, and how Uncle Fëanáro is perfectly pleasant, seems to actually like having us around the house, but in his own way sets rules and is controlling."

He swiveled around to look at Maitimo. "Why do all of you have to cook and clean?  Fëanáro has far greater means than my parents do? Anyway, then Haru asked about Macalaurë and Vingarië."

"Did you tell him we want to move as well, but we do not have the resources or the time to organize it?" Macalaurë asked.

"I did. But he was already thinking of you. Haru said all of his sons were on their own before they were our age and that he thought Fëanáro held his children to closely to him and that Atar tries to exert entirely too much control over our personal lives. "

Maitimo interrupted Findekáno to say, "Good for Haru."

"He told me that he has commissioned the renovation of a house near the Opera House, because he had only given Macalaurë and Vingarië trinkets as wedding gifts. He had planned the house as a surprise, but now thinks we should talk about it among ourselves. He says that it is large, with two stories. Said he had been thinking that maybe the four of us should consider sharing it. That no one could gossip about all of us living together. And he would handle Atar and Fëanaro. What do you think?"

Maitimo spoke first, "Macalaurë? Could you bear to share a house with us? Do you think Vingarië would mind?"

"I know she would not. She has suggested to me before. She worries about the two of you."

"I would be quiet. You would barely know I was there," Findekáno said. Maitimo ignored him and Macalaurë appear to do the same, while Curufinwë smirked, but blessedly held his tongue.

"I just want you to happy. If you are sure we would not be in your way . . ." Maitimo said, inwardly cringing at the plaintive timbre of his voice.

"We want you to be happy also. How could I ever be happy knowing you and Findekáno are miserable."

"Oh, please, stop!" Findekáno said. "Everybody wants everybody else to be happy. And I said I would be quiet. I'll even be neat and useful. Plus, Maitimo can cook. Can we drop this now?" Findekáno obviously couldn't resist laughing at himself and Macalaurë joined him.

"You will be just fine I am sure," Macalaurë said. "Vingarië adores you and she has a way of getting people to do exactly what she wants. She can be frightening actually."

Findekáno looked uncomfortable for only an instant. "Vingarië and I do very well together, thank you. Maitimo, can we go outside now? I'm dying for a kiss more." His indigo eyes lit as much in mischief as in desire.

"Go on then. We will talk in the morning," Macalaurë said.

Macalaurë who knew of love, smiled slowly and with kindness, while Curufinwë who did not groaned. "Oh, must you always be so public about it, Kano!"

Once they were outside of the back door Maitimo whispered that the twins were sleeping out. When they got to the willow tree they spread out one of the blankets and put the other to the side in case it got chilly later.

Findekáno had already pulled his shirt off when he turned to Maitimo and said, "We should have snagged a bottle of wine from the pantry on our way out."

"I'll get one. It will only take a moment."

Maitimo walked up to the blanket swinging the bottle of wine, to find Fingon naked, on his back, looking up at him from under heavy eyelids, one leg sprawled out to the side and the other bent at the knee, framing his rampant sex between them. The sight took Maitimo's breath away.

"Oh . . . my . . . Káno." Maitimo dropped the wine bottle in the grass as he fell to his knees in front of him.


"What do you think?" Maitimo gasped.

Extending his arms upward toward him, Findekáno grinned. "Not thinking. Just hoping."

"I want to feel you inside of me tonight, Kano."

"Then come." Findekáno pulled him down upon and began to slowly undress him.  

Maitimo's fingers dug into Findekáno's upper arms as he lowered himself upon him.

"You are so hot and tight. Don't move. Just wait a moment until you've relaxed a bit more." Findekáno looked so serious and concerned that it made Maitimo smile.

"Can we turn over?" Maitimo asked. "I think I'd like you on top of me."

"If you want." Findekáno sighed, before giving him a crooked teasing smile, easing out of him and rolling him over.

Feeling Findekáno's length deep within him again, Maitimo marveled at the sensation. It was easy to understand why Findekáno so preferred to be taken in this way. The exquisite fullness and the friction of sweat-slick skin against his own hardness fed his love and lust like logs tossed upon an already blazing fire. When Findekáno found his release, he kissed Maitimo hard, biting on his lip and moaning. Maitimo shuddered as he felt himself falling over the edge.
"Did you like that?" Findekáno asked, his expression radiating fierce affection.

"Yes. Yes," Maitimo heard himself whisper hoarsely, as he slid off to one side, pulling Findekáno tight against him.

They heard the lonely howl of a farmer's dog far off in the distance and the comforting hoot of an owl much closer. The wind gently stirred the branches of the willows that sheltered them like a curtain against the world.

 "I hope you won't be tender tomorrow," Findekáno said. "You are not accustomed to being the sheath."

"For your mighty sword?" Maitimo asked. Findekáno grabbed him in a retaliatory neck lock and butted his head against him gently. Maitimo smiled, kissing him. "I hope I am, at least a little. It will remind me of you the entire day."

This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

Story Information

Author: oshun

Status: General

Completion: Work in Progress

Era: Time of the Trees

Genre: Drama

Rating: Adult

Last Updated: 02/19/10

Original Post: 10/26/08

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