Glorfindel came back to wakefulness slowly like a swimmer struggling up from the bottom of a deep lake unwilling towards light – or in his case towards the cacophony of sound that had drawn him hence. He retained no memory of dreams, perhaps his sleep had been too deep to sustain them. Things were being lifted, replaced noisily. There was movement, the rustling of cloth, sound of impatient footfalls. A small crash, followed by a not so small curse. Words finally returned to him, giving shape to his world and setting in place concepts such as ‘morning’, ‘no work’ and finally ‘Erestor’.

“I left them here yesterday, I know they were here. WHERE ARE MY DAMN KEYS?”

Something hit the floor with a thud. Glorfindel burrowed into the pillows and concentrated on stillness and steady breathing, but either he was unconvincing or else Erestor had no sympathy for those with the freedom to sleep late. Brisk, booted footsteps approached the bed.

“Did you put my keys somewhere?” an accusatory voice asked.

Glorfindel groaned. There was no ‘please’, no ‘are you awake, my love?’. No ‘sorry to disturb’. He lifted his head, the tousled hair that fell across his face adding to the sleep-blindness of the newly-wakened. Squinting, he made out an impatient, brown-clad shape looming determinedly beside the bed. Not Erestor’s best colour, he thought randomly, although he had sufficient sense to bite back the words.

“My keys, damn it. For the safe, for my personal drawer, for the reference section of the library, for…”

“I know what you keep on your key ring, Res,” Glorfindel muttered, yawning expansively and rolling heavily onto his back blinking. He pushed the hair out of his face and rubbed his eyes, trying to think. “Where have you looked?”

“I have looked everywhere they are meant to be. They are not there. Did you move them?”

Blue eyes finally focused. Erestor: work-ready, hair dressed neatly back from his face, no jewellery other than his accustomed collection of bracelets. He radiated annoyance, amber eyes bright with exasperation, the skin over his cheekbones slightly flushed. Glorfindel had known him long enough to avoid the mistake of mentioning that anger made him look damnably attractive.

“Keys… Have you checked your pockets, love? What were you wearing yesterday? How about that shell in the hallway – the one you never use? Maybe for once…” Glorfindel thought the item – a large, pink shell with hooks to hold keys – looked garishly out of place, but Erestor had brought it back from a visit to Mithlond and was inexplicably fond of it.

“Of course I use it!” Erestor’s normally low voice was rising steadily. “And of course I looked there. How stupid do you think I am?”

He moved away from the bed and began to scrabble through items on top of the dresser. Suddenly alert, Glorfindel began to sit up, saying, “They’re not in there, kitten. That’s just my jewellery and…” The old leather-bound box was open; the strings of gems and other hair adornments, the small collection of rings and earrings the golden warrior owned were being picked over loudly. When next he spoke, Glorfindel’s tone was noticeably sharper. “I said, they aren’t in there, Erestor. Excuse me! Stay out of that, those are mine!”

“There’s no need to shout.” Erestor scooped the collection back into the box and slammed the lid down. “You wouldn’t consider actually getting up to help me look, I suppose? Too early for you.”

Glorfindel compressed his lips, reminded himself that Erestor was emphatically not a morning person, and counted to ten. Twice. He had just returned from two grueling weeks alone in the wild, tracking Orc movements, living off the land, and at one point having to take to the trees for safety when the hunter for a time became the hunted. The reborn hero took no life needlessly, not even that of the dark creations of the Great Enemy, but he had been forced to dispatch several of the more determined amongst them to survive. It seemed a small thing to ask that he be allowed to sleep in on his first morning home.

Erestor made a sound of intense irritation and hurried out of the room, muttering under his breath about early morning staff meetings and selfish warriors. Moments later the searching sounds resumed in the sitting room. Glorfindel drew his knees up and leaned his forearms on them as he contemplated the bedroom. The disorder was more than the norm, even for Erestor after two weeks of chaotic solitude. It took him a minute, but finally he spotted what he was looking for – the previous day’s dark green robe which lay half off the chair where it had been flung at the beginning of the evening’s reunion.

Stark naked, long golden hair rippling over his broad shoulders and down his back, his early morning erection bobbing cheerfully before him, Glorfindel climbed out of bed. Padding across to the chair, he lifted the robe and gently shook. He was not in the least surprised when a soft clanking marked the descent of a large steel ring with its collection of keys, charms, trinkets… there was even a feather, attached by a twist of ribbon that might once have been red.

He closed a powerful hand around the prize, then paused, considering. Slowly his mouth, a warm, generous mouth made for smiles and kisses, curved into a mischievous grin.

The next few minutes were a race against Erestor’s imminent return. A drawer yielded cotton sleep shorts, thigh length, comfortable and much loved. These he donned, leaving the cord unfastened. The braided belt from Erestor’s robe caught his eye, and he retrieved it with a satisfied nod, winding it swiftly into a loose coil.. Then, hurrying back to bed, he piled the pillows up behind him and settled down to wait – but not before first securing the key ring in a place that he was boyishly amused to discover made for a tight fit.

It was, after all, a large ring.

Moments later Erestor stalked back into the bedroom. The neat morning-hair was beginning to show signs of disarray, the flush across his cheekbones had deepened. Amber eyes flashed fire. “Are you going to just lie there and leave me to look for them and be late for my meeting and…”

“They won’t start without you,” Glorfindel observed calmly, folding his arms behind his head and smiling easily.

Erestor came to a dead halt and stared at him. “Do you think this is a

joke

 ?”

Glorfindel shook his head cheerfully. “Oh no, not at all. I can see you’re taking it very seriously. It would help if you calmed down and tried to think this through logically though.”

Erestor’s mouth opened but no words came out. Instead his expression began to settle into one of deep suspicion. “…. where are my keys, Warrior?”

Glorfindel’s smile widened. “Now see, it’s much better if you slow down.”

“Where are my keys?!” Erestor advanced menacingly, although the impact was lessened by the relative difference in size and weight between them. Erestor was of average build and not particularly tall, while Glorfindel was – Glorfindel.

“I think you might want to add a little more method to your search,” he suggested helpfully. “Try and think now – you’ve looked in all the likely places. Where would be a more – unlikely place?”

Erestor was silent, his expression one to make most of his associates quail. Glorfindel had faced a Balrog; he kept smiling. And from the bed came a sudden, brief tinkling sound, that of metal on metal. Once, twice, and then it stopped.

“You bastard… give them back at once!”

“I was definitely born in wedlock, Erestor dear,” Glorfindel retorted. He wriggled into a more comfortable position, inducing a repeat of the sound. “A second son in fact, as you know very well.”

Erestor placed a knee on the edge of the bed and glared down at him, hands on hips. “Are you going to give me back my keys, or do I have to take them by force?” he asked in a dangerous voice.

“You would have to… find them first,” Glorfindel suggested, tilting his head to one side and giving Erestor a smile of surpassing innocence. “And reclaim them.”

Erestor made an exasperated sound and, bracing himself, took a firm grasp on the soft wool blankets and crisp linen sheet and jerked vigourously. The expected resistance failed to materialise and he overbalanced, then fell forward to land heavily across the warrior’s stomach when the covers were unexpectedly tugged sharply back. Glorfindel made an ‘oophing’ sound, but his steely abdominal muscles were more than up to the challenge.

Leaning up on a forearm, Erestor froze. The view in itself was pleasing: a raised knee, soft blue fabric falling back across a lightly tanned thigh, dark blue cord fastened in a neat, double-knotted bow above the emphatically tented groin area … and, through the soft cotton, clearly defined as the crown atop the morning glory, an unmistakable outline of shapes metallic.

Before Erestor could move, the warrior’s lightning reflexes came into play. Hands snaked out and caught his wrists in an iron grip. “Not so fast,” Glorfindel told him, his voice etched with laughter, the lilting accents of Gondolin softening the words. “I didn’t go to all this trouble for nothing, you know.”

“Glorfindel, have you lost your mind? Let go of me at once! What are you trying to…. My keys…. This is ridiculous!” Erestor struggled half-heartedly. He knew he was outmatched; he would extricate his wrists when the golden warrior was good and ready and not a moment before.

“Oh, you can have your keys, kitten, of course you can.” Glorfindel was all but purring. “If you hadn’t decided to tear the place apart you would have found them without waking me, you would be at work already, but no… calm logic is for public life, not for these rooms. So I found them. And, as punishment for disturbing my well-earned sleep, you will now claim them back the hard way – without using your hands.”

As he spoke, he produced the braided cord and with swift efficiency fastened Erestor’s wrists behind his back. Then, ignoring outraged yelps, he patted the furious elf on the shoulder with a satisfied grin. “Off you go,” he said cheerfully.

Leaning heavily against Glorfindel’s ribs, Erestor considered the display mere inches from his nose. Glancing back over his shoulder, he made a snapping gesture with his teeth.

“And if you even 

think

 of biting me, Erestor, I promise you’ll live to regret it.”

“Idiot! You’re making me late for work!!”

“Yes, probably,” the alleged idiot agreed equably. “But as I said earlier – they’re not likely to start the meeting without you.”

Erestor glared, then turned back to the challenge. Teeth gripped cord, followed by a few sharp, unsuccessful tugs. Erestor drew back and studied the puzzle, then shot an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “You double-knotted it! Why would you do that?”

“To make life more interesting?”

“Bastard!”

“We’ve been over that already.”

Erestor snorted and resumed his efforts. Careful probing disclosed a strand with a little more play to it than the rest, and this he gave his full attention. The first loop came undone and was followed by the next. On his knees now, his chest resting across Glorfindel’s midriff, Erestor paused to shake his fast-unraveling hair back from his face and spit out strands of cotton before gripping one of the ties between his teeth and jerking his head to the side.

Erect and dusky, draped in keys and other fancies, neck encircled by a ring of shining metal, Glorfindel’s morning potency jutted proudly between folds of pale blue fabric. The dappled feather held pride of place, lying snugly in a line pointing from crown to base.

Erestor considered this vision dourly before dipping his head to worry the metal with his teeth until, with a small, satisfied smile, he managed to grip the ring and lift it free. Pushing himself upright, he shook the keys in cacophonous triumph before tossing his head and letting them fall to the bed. The collection struck the warrior’s hip a glancing blow before landing with a small metallic clatter.

Turning back, Erestor tilted his head and considered the newly-released prisoner. Leaning forward, he blew on it experimentally and grinned briefly when it twitched. “Nasty ring. It was too tight – just here,” he cooed, ducking his head to apply a moist kiss to a small, barely visible red line. Overbalancing, he slipped and landed with his face pressed against musky heat.

“Hey, whoa … what are you doing?” Startled, Glorfindel’s voice was tight.

Erestor chuckled. Settling on his side, he ran parted lips along the ridged flesh, his tongue sliding wetly. “Oh – just playing,” he replied, his voice low and husky. “While I’m down here, I may as well have some fun with him. I’m already late – why waste the chance?”

His head dipped lower, lapping heavy balls with small, experimental swipes, almost, but not quite, ticklish. Glorfindel’s breathing became audible. He parted his legs suggestively and was rewarded with a sucking bite to the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. He jerked convulsively and cried out.

“No willpower,” Erestor taunted. He moved slowly back up, his lips barely brushing surface before taking the plum-shaped crown into the velvet warmth of his mouth.

“Gods, I need to start deliberately hiding your keys,” Glorfindel gasped through gritted teeth. “Yes, just — keep doing that. Yes, deeper. Come on…” He pushed upwards to punctuate the request, and was obligingly drawn in, rolled in moisture.

Erestor wriggled the lower half of his body round to present his back to the warrior. “Unfasten this – whatever it is,” he mumbled around the fullness, motioning with his bound hands.

“You don’t need hands – you’re doing fine without them,” Glorfindel observed as he dealt with the hastily tied knots.

“Can’t take my pants off with my teeth,” Erestor replied indistinctly, licking busily. “Well, maybe, but it’d take too long. They’d be knocking on the door to see what was keeping me.”

“Ah – right. There you are. Um… do you want me to…”

“I want you to lie back and not waste my time.”

Straightening up, Erestor tucked his loose brown robe up over his belt and wriggled out of his undergarment. Tossing the skimpy black item onto the floor, he knelt astride the golden warrior, his full attention on the eager pillar rising moist-tipped from its nest of crisp golden curls.

“Good morning, my friend,” he said in a more genial tone than he had thus far used towards Glorfindel. “You look all… wet and ready? I don’t think we need to lubricate.” Reaching down from behind, he grasped Glorfindel in a firm hand. Centering himself he pressed down, slowly impaling himself upon saliva-slicked hardness. Eyes half closed, lips parted, he started to rock back and forth, small movements but each insinuating Glorfindel ever deeper within him.

“Love this,” he whispered huskily. “Love that you’re so big. Love feeling you going into me like this – slowly – inch by inch… stretching me, filling me. Even when it hurts – it’s so good… so good.” Finally, at the brush of crisp hair against naked buttocks, he let his head drop back and relaxed down fully, muscles clasping tightly around the warrior’s steel. He sat quite still for a moment, moist lips parted, amber eyes slitted and sparkling, his face flushed now with desire, not anger. Glorfindel waited, drinking in the sight.

“Lovely and hard,” Erestor whispered finally, leaning forward and sliding his hands appreciatively over Glorfindel’s chest, rolling the warrior’s nipples in a flicking motion. Glorfindel groaned and closed his eyes, shaking his head against the pillows.

“Don’t play, please, come on, you promised…”

Erestor was moving his hips rhythmically back and forth, stimulating himself within. “I didn’t actually say the words ‘I promise’.”

“Erestor, you swine…”

“Oink.”

“Erestor…!”

Erestor laughed fondly and smoothed his palms over Glorfindel’s chest, letting his fingertips play up and down the soft flesh of his neck before placing his hands on the warrior’s broad shoulders. He bent his arms, leaning forward, feeling Glorfindel slide almost free of him, then pushed back, straightening up to enclose him to the hilt. And again. And again, setting a steady rhythm. Glorfindel ran his hands up taut thighs, finding and cupping clenching buttocks. Closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the pillows, he began moving in accord, his pelvis jerking rhythmically upward in time to breathing that grew progressively more ragged.

“That’s right,” Erestor murmured, his voice low, inviting. “Just enjoy. Don’t think of anything, just feel yourself surrounded, ridden… I love doing this. I love being able to watch your face, love the way your mouth twists – just so – as you get near the edge. You are near the edge now, aren’t you?”

“Shut up and ride me.”

“Mmm?” Erestor began to rock from side to side, swaying, laughing quietly to himself. Glorfindel, who had been on the receiving end of these delaying tactics before, was having none of it. With a low growl, he gripped his tormentor firmly by the hips and, in one fluid motion, rolled them over so that Erestor was on his back with Glorfindel towering above him. Pushing long, shapely legs up and out – and ignoring the fact that the feet were still boot-clad – Glorfindel tightened his grasp on firm thighs and began to pump into Erestor in earnest, each thrust accompanied by a low, needful grunt.

Erestor, lying in a tangle of robe and hair, still laughing, dropped his hand to his pulsing erection, and began stroking himself in time to Glorfindel’s thrusting. He was already close to the brink and knew it would take very little for him to spend. His hand moved urgently, up and down, faster… firmer… then his back arched and he cried out wordlessly, his muscles clamping convulsively around Glorfindel and almost taking them over the edge in unison.

“Go on, take me, be as rough as you need,” he gasped, before closing his eyes and lying bonelessly, arms outspread, booted ankles resting lightly against Glorfindel’s powerful upper arms.

Glorfindel relinquished all control. His hands gripped Erestor’s thighs bruisingly, each hard thrust accompanied by a low growl as he moved faster, deeper. Finally he groaned softly and began to pump in quick, shallow thrusts before sinking deep within, remaining motionless for a moment, barely breathing. With a final, convulsive shudder, he whispered Erestor’s name then collapsed slowly across him and was still.

A breath, ten more, then a brief flurry of motion as Erestor shifted so that he could put his arms around Glorfindel, who turned to bury his face in Erestor’s neck, a heavy arm draped tight about his waist. Panting, they lay in a damp, half-clad, sweaty, satisfied tangle.

Erestor finally stirred, edged out from under Glorfindel’s arm and sat up, pushing his hair out of his face. Faint sounds crept into the room from beyond, indistinct but sufficient to remind him of the time. Suddenly decisive, he pushed himself up from the bed and stood, his legs wavering slightly beneath him before his balance returned.. He pulled the semen-smeared robe over his head and dropped it onto the floor, replacing it with the first one that came to hand in the closet – something black, well-worn, and normally kept for late night work. Fastening the belt about his waist in a casual knot, he released his unraveling braids, gave his hair a cursory brush, and tied it in a loose tail at his neck.

Going back to the bed, he bent to kiss Glorfindel who had turned onto his stomach and lay with his cheek resting on his forearm, watching him dress in lazy, sated silence.

“Have a nice morning, get your feet off my pillow – right now. I’ll see you later,” Erestor said, rubbing his lips against a still-flushed cheek and aiming a cursory slap in the direction of an errant foot before heading briskly out the door.

Glorfindel lay unmoving, watching the doorway expectantly. He had almost given it up and was drifting towards that drowsy half-sleep state when he heard returning footsteps. Erestor entered the room and approached the bed, frowning. Glorfindel offered him a smile of surpassing sweetness, which made little or no impact.

Erestor held out his hand. “Keys,” he said briefly.

Glorfindel rolled over onto his back and tried to look innocent.

”I. will. hurt. you!”

The warrior sighed and retrieved the key ring from where it lay in the centre of the bed, half hidden by a rumpled blanket. He held it up enticingly. “What, these?”

“Glorfindel, it is so late that I am beyond embarrassed. Give me…”

Glorfindel grinned, then relented. “All right, here’s how it works. Give me a really thorough good morning kiss and you can have your keys. And I also want a promise from you.”

“Oh for the love of… What do I have to promise this time?”

Glorfindel beckoned him closer and pulled him down into a warm embrace and a lingering kiss. “You need to absolutely, solemnly promise me that you will mislay your keys at least once a week in future. Helping you find them is the best way to start the day that I’ve yet found – in either of my two lives.”

~*~*~*~*~

Finis

~*~*~*~*~

Beta: Red Lasbelin