Title: Lessons in Sensuality
Part: 2 of 2
Author: December
E-Mail: d-cember@mail.ru
Pairing: Boromir/Faramir 
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Entering adolescence, Faramir turns to Boromir for advice on how 
to behave with girls. Boromir takes the request too lightly. 
Warnings: Graphic sex, Faramir is underage 
Feedback: Any kind is welcome! This is my first story :)
Notes: The story is based on the book version.
“” denotes speech
** denotes thoughts

~ 

“But my lord, the young prince is sleeping, he needs rest,” a healer’s indignant 
voice carried past the closed doors of the ward. Faramir half sat up and 
strained his ears to hear clearer. But there was no need as another voice 
bellowed:

“Out of my way, you dimwit! I wish to see my brother!” 

There was a sound as of someone being shoved and the heavy wooden doors 
flung open. Boromir burst in, his face flushed and agitated. In an instant he 
was by Faramir’s bed, clutching the boy’s hand, his gaze jumping between 
Faramir’s clear gray eyes.

“Please, little one, tell me all is well with you! I could not bear if any real 
harm came to you!” He was short of breath having apparently run all the way 
from the city gates. Still dressed in his traveling clothes, he looked worn and 
disheveled; his hair a mess, the beard unkempt and over-grown. A strong 
smell of horse sweat, long road and unwashed body hung around him. “I came 
as soon as I heard of what befell you, but I could not come fast enough…”

Faramir was pierced by the desperate worry and penitence in his brother’s 
eyes, but doubt gnawed painfully at him. His face set, he snatched his hand 
away.

“Nothing befell me that should concern you.”

Boromir stared at him aghast, hurt clearly readable in his face.

“But how could it not, dear Faramir? We are brothers, you are more precious 
to me than anyone!”

“Yet little precious to you I was when you were leaving on that so-called 
mission, Boromir.”

The young man groaned tiredly and lowered himself in the heavy chair by the 
bed.

“I was harsh with you, little brother, but I had to go. How could I oppose 
Father’s will?”

“Father’s will had nothing to do with it. He told me… he told me you came to 
him and begged to send you away!” All the pain, all the anger, all the 
confusion he had been carrying within for these past weeks was bursting out. 
He could not contain his accusations.

Boromir suddenly looked small, all color drained from his face except for two 
bright spots on his cheeks. He lowered his face and uttered quietly:

“Aye, that I did.”

“And I reasoned,” Faramir felt a lump in his throat, but went on nonetheless, 
for he knew that otherwise he would never say it. “I reasoned it was because 
of me, because you wished not to see me any longer.”

“Aye, you speak the truth once more.”

“Then why?..” his voice broke and he was silent.

Boromir covered his eyes with his hand, his head bending ever lower. After 
what seemed like an hour he spoke heavily, his voice filled with all the 
weariness of the world:

“You scared me, little brother. What… what you did to me… I have never 
known such madness to hide within me. I fled, but only to protect you… 
protect you from myself. Such a torture your presence would become! Within 
a reach of my hand day and night. Not myself, I was not myself, Faramir! I 
would… I would either succumb to it or go mad, I... You came to me in my 
sleep! I did things to you in my dreams, you would not believe… No good at 
resisting temptations… I am no good! You know so yourself. But do you not 
see?! I could not…” And he peered miserably, pleadingly at Faramir.

The boy blinked at Boromir in amazement. He had never seen his brother lose 
ability to speak coherently. Nevertheless the meaning of his words carried to 
Faramir’s heart and he was grieved.

“None of what you say had been revealed to me. I thought you despised me, 
Boromir, for what I had done. You were as though lost to me for ever, and I 
wished at least to prove my worth to Father.”

“If the only proof of loyalty he accepts is throwing your life away at his 
bidding! Ah, how can this be?! You were only thirteen, you cannot do such 
things! You should not have to…”

“Maybe it is the only proof, brother, maybe it is,” Faramir said tiredly, leaning 
back onto his pillows. The conversation had exhausted him and he closed his 
eyes.

There were footsteps behind the door and then the healer’s head popped in. He 
spoke in a hushed voice:

“Lord Boromir, His Lordship heard of your arrival and wishes to speak with 
you. Besides…” he looked pointedly at Faramir.

Boromir sighed wearily and stood up. He made to leave, but then returned and 
pressed his lips hastily to Faramir’s forehead. Only the boy was already 
asleep.

***

He came to visit every day, but they spoke no more of the trouble that passed 
between them. Faramir told him of his first military experiences, while 
Boromir shared his own tidings. His beard neatly trimmed, dark hair put in 
order and altogether rid of the outmost anxiety of their reunion, the young 
man once more presented a comely sight. He grew slightly thinner during the 
long absence, but it was even befitting him in a way; his face made sharper, 
steel-gray eyes larger and more prominent. 

Against his best judgment, Faramir would wonder now and again whether his 
brother was still subject to the temptation he had spoken of in such agitation. 
It even discomposed him somewhat to see Boromir so composed and at ease 
around him after that desperate confession. Faramir was only forced to assume 
he had been exaggerating.

On the fifth evening since Boromir’s return the healers finally released 
Denethor’s younger son. Faramir was certain it would have been done much 
earlier had he been an ordinary soldier and not a steward’s offspring. He 
enjoyed the ward’s spacious baths one last time before he left. They were even 
better than the ones accessible from the brothers’ own quarters. Here bathed 
the sickly, whose thorough cleanliness was more than just a question of 
comfort.

Pulling his linen robe back on, Faramir rubbed a dab of pleasantly smelling 
lavender and rosemary oil onto his temples, behind the ears and in between 
the collar bones. It was a scent of both tranquility and freshness, and it made 
his skin tingle. He looked at the small phial for a while and decided to take it 
along. Judging by the way the soldiers stunk at most times, none of them 
would miss it anyway.

Ere long he found out it was a decision not wise at all. No sooner had they 
returned from dinner to the fire-lit chamber, Boromir took to picking on him 
mercilessly.

“Is there a woman hiding in this room? I am sure I smell flowers!” He jerked 
aside the heavy curtains and peered behind.

“Very funny, brother,” grumbled Faramir as he opened the covers of his bed. 
“Just because you never smell of anything but your own sweat…” He dragged 
the white hospital robe over his head and folded in neatly on a chair by his 
bed.

“That is most utterly not true! I washed only today and…” Boromir turned 
around and nearly choked on his own words. By no means did he expect to 
suddenly see his brother naked. 

“What is it?” registering the change in his voice, Faramir threw Boromir a 
glance over his shoulder. He kept a cool demeanor, as if being unclothed 
before his older brother did not unsettle him in the slightest, as though 
everything was as before.

“Um, you… You have such a terrible scar on your leg!” Boromir breathed out 
in relief at being able to mask the real reason of his undoing.

“Aye, I have gained it in battle,” extremely self-conscious, he ran his fingers 
over the pale mark on the back of his thigh. Boromir’s lips parted as his eyes 
followed the gesture. “But do not change the topic so, brother! For it is rude 
and unbecoming of a steward’s son!” Faramir laughed merrily, a great gaiety 
overcoming him all of a sudden. “Speaking of washing - here,” he took the 
glass bottle out of his clothes and walked up to his brother. “It smells nice and 
keeps you fresh.”

But Boromir stared at him uncomprehendingly, for it was as though an evil 
spirit had taken the form of his sibling and came now to torment him, 
displaying all his beauty before his hungry eyes. Seeing the young man so 
stunned, Faramir threw back his head and laughed again, but his cheeks 
flushed and his pulse quickened.

“Do not fret, Boromir, there is nothing difficult to it. I can show,” at this he 
unscrewed the cap and took a bit of the slippery liquid onto his fingers. His 
hand trembled slightly but he took no heed, an unseen force guiding him. 

“Just a little here, and here…” he marked the other’s temples with oil, never 
meeting his gaze but following the movement of his own hand instead. 
Faramir’s mouth opened slightly as he applied the perfume to the base of his 
brother’s neck, then behind his ear. His hand lingered on the hot skin of his 
throat, unable to withdraw from the touch.

The phial fell soundlessly onto the sheets of Boromir’s bed as Faramir 
wrapped his arms around his neck – a response to the young man’s own 
embrace. The taste of the boy’s mouth was already familiar to him, but no less 
tantalizing for it.  He searched inside it with his tongue, but Faramir fought 
him back vehemently, eager himself to get past Boromir’s lips. The older 
brother gripped him on the uncovered buttocks at which Faramir gasped and 
lost the sweet battle at once.

They tumbled heavily on the bed, limbs intertwined, the cold little bottle 
pressing hard into Faramir’s back. He hugged Boromir’s waist with his bare 
legs, as though afraid his brother would draw back. But such concerns were 
unfounded. Instead his hand went straight for what was openly offered 
between Faramir’s spread thighs. Involuntarily the boy bit Boromir on the lip 
as his already erect member was clasped by his brother’s hand.

Just as before, all became a blur for him, the air impossibly dense to breathe, 
his heart pounding painfully inside his chest. Moaning and gasping for air, 
Faramir broke off their kiss. So Boromir went for his throat instead, 
alternating forceful kisses and gentle caresses of his lips, while his hand 
worked tirelessly in its own rhythm. He had never held anyone but himself in 
this way, yet there was no awkwardness to his movements. Faramir’s hips 
humped into the strokes, as the boy’s hands roamed over his brother’s strong 
shoulders and chest.

Then Boromir traced his lips up Faramir’s neck and to his ear, his own 
respiration coming in heavy gasps. He licked gently behind and around the 
lobe, and the boy turned his head to allow him better access. Boromir let his 
breath tickle at the sensitive skin and a light shudder ran through Faramir’s 
body. But when the young man plunged his tongue inside, Faramir screamed 
sharply, for it seemed to him as though Boromir had touched right into his 
brain. His lithe body jerked violently below Boromir’s heavier form, and the 
steward’s heir at once felt hot seed spill onto his fingers.

Faramir’s ragged breathing began to subside. Drained of all strength, his body 
slackened, slender legs releasing their grip around his brother’s waist. And 
seeing him so utterly undone, Boromir bid himself hold his lust at bay. He 
took off the tunic which bore the evidence of Faramir’s release, and after it the 
rest of his raiment, casting it carelessly to the floor. Stretching then alongside 
Faramir, Boromir kissed his swollen lips with a slow passion, delighting in 
their lazy and sated response. He brought the hand which had pleasured him 
up to the boy’s mouth and brushed the moist fingertips against his lips. 
Faramir licked at them leisurely, unabashed by his own taste. He then 
wrapped his lips around his brother’s index finger and pulled it inside his 
mouth. He sucked on it hard, letting it almost slide out and then taking it back 
in, his eyes closed throughout the process. An indecent analogy such service 
brought to Boromir’s mind, and at this he groaned as though in pain. For in a 
sort of pain he was, as the need between his legs was unanswered and grew 
stronger still. Yet what Faramir’s heated lips promised seemed insufficient, 
and he sought in his mind for a more complete way to quench his heat.

“I want more of you,” Boromir whispered, shifting himself to be on top of the 
boy again. These words, a first acknowledgement of what truly passed 
between them, a sign of acceptance, caused Faramir to peer up at his brother. 
He smiled but shook his head gently.

“I know not what more to give. But I shall not halt you… To take whatever it 
be that you wish of me.”

Boromir frowned in frustration, for he himself was uncertain how to proceed. 
Had this been a maiden before him, there would be no question. But Faramir 
was no maiden, and his body lacked that special place so conveniently 
befitting manly needs. That left only one other way… But surely it could 
not… For once he regretted never seeking beyond the simple and fail-proof 
path to pleasure every woman provided.

Meanwhile Faramir’s fire was rekindled, and he slid from under his brother 
and sat opposite him. His hands pressed against Boromir’s chest, he kissed the 
young man hard on the mouth, the taste of his own semen still on the boy’s 
lips. And Boromir needed no further prompting. He embraced the other once 
more, reeling from the magnitude of the sensation of naked skin against naked 
skin. And they kissed each other’s lips and necks, fully at ease with one 
another by now. Faramir ran his long delicate hand down the mighty plates of 
muscle of his brother’s chest, and when he reached the tight abdomen, 
Boromir’s whole body shivered.  But as he sought even lower and finally 
grasped his brother’s manhood in his hand, Faramir gasped in surprise and 
drew slightly away.

“Oh Valar! How big you are, Boromir!” he whispered in wonder as his fingers 
traced lightly up and down the hard length. Then a larger hand covered his 
own and made him grip the shaft firmer than he would have dared. And 
Boromir set a pace for him, slow yet strong and high in amplitude. To Faramir 
the taut flesh in his hand seemed to have a life of its own, jerking eagerly 
against his touch, throbbing with heat. His own strokes as though entranced 
him, each one accompanied by a strained sigh from his brother. The pleasure 
he was giving Boromir aroused an equal need in his own manhood.

The lust within Boromir’s body had become strong enough to cloud out all his 
doubts. Decisively moving Faramir’s hand aside, he pushed him to lie on his 
back and spread the unresisting legs apart. He then ran his palms up and down 
the sensitive area of the boy’s inner thighs, relaxing the slight tension that still 
remained in him. Faramir moaned softly and shut his eyes, completely 
entrusting himself to his brother’s will. Yet the purpose of Boromir’s 
ministrations was still unrevealed to his obscured mind. Then his brother 
shifted closer to him and sat on his knees in front of the boy. He propped up 
Faramir’s thighs with his own, so that his most intimate regions were now 
fully exposed. Boromir rubbed in between his buttocks, probing carefully but 
insistently. It was blissfully hot in there, much more so than the rest of the 
boy’s skin. He could not help reaching for the source of the heat and pushed 
swiftly inside.

Gritting his teeth, Faramir sharply sucked on air. He stared up at Boromir, 
confusion and pain swimming in his clear eyes. But Boromir held him in place 
and soothed him with a gentle word. He would not suffer his brother to see it, 
but he was despaired at how small and dry Faramir was inside. If just one 
finger caused him such discomfort, how would he be able to… But desire 
overtook pity in him and he carried on with the exploration. At first the boy 
whimpered and winced at every movement inside him, but gradually his body 
adjusted to the unfamiliar presence. His inner muscles relaxed somewhat and 
he was able to breathe again. 

And then he grew aware of another discomfort. Something small was pressing 
hard against his spine. So Faramir reached under himself and produced the 
long forgotten oil bottle. As he studied the phial in bemusement, Boromir 
snatched it right out of his hand.

“Oh, brother! Why have you not told me?! This would just…” In an urgent 
haste, he undid the cork with his teeth and poured the liquid generously onto 
his hand. They had never smelled so much lavender or rosemary in their lives, 
but neither minded or even truly noticed. As the young man breached once 
more the entrance to his brother’s body it was an altogether different sensation 
for both of them. And Boromir nearly laughed in relief.

At once he saw that his actions were causing no more pain. For Faramir’s hips 
began to rock slowly in rhythm with the movement of his hand, and moans 
rather than whimpers were now coming from his lips. Yet a finger was still 
too little to prepare him for a grown man’s cock. So he inserted another one 
along with the first. The boy tensed up again, this time the oil not curing the 
unpleasant sensation. Though he did not resist his brother’s touch, he 
apparently did not welcome it either.

*This is going to be difficult,* Boromir thought. *This is going to be so 
difficult…* 

He was more careful now, going as slowly as his want allowed him. But even 
though Faramir relaxed at last, he was only as much as accepting the 
advances, never returning them. And still he was not near enough stretched to 
take in all of Boromir. The young man sighed and withdrew his hand. 
Unwillingly, he had to acknowledge defeat:

“Little brother, I will not forgive myself if I do this to you. I would tear you 
apart…”

“Nay, you would not. I wish for this too, Boromir.” Faramir now opened his 
eyes and was looking up at the other, his gaze surprisingly sober. He covered 
Boromir’s hand on his thigh with his own. His palm was cool and moist with 
sweat. “Do not mind if I scream,” he added casually and closed his eyes again. 
His heaving chest and uneven breathing betrayed how truly petrified he was, 
but he had made his resolve clear.

And Boromir now applied all the oil that remained to his member, his fingers 
shaking as they moved up and down the shaft. For once he wished his source 
of masculine pride had been smaller. Or that Faramir was older. Or… He did 
not know what he wished for; he did not know anything now.

He slid his arm beneath Faramir’s hips and pulled them up. The young man 
was now pressed against the very spot where his fingers had been a minute 
ago. He hesitated, and Faramir squeezed his hand silently, this unspoken 
permission stronger than any words. And Boromir obliged.

How to explain this moment? It was like dying, like being reborn. It was like 
life itself, unbearably painful and glorious in one instant. And as he had 
warned, Faramir screamed.

He screamed until the shock seized his vocal cords too, until all his body was 
split up, open from within, consumed by a flame of anguish. He thrashed his 
head around and gripped with equal force the bed sheets and his brother’s 
hand.

But the depth of his suffering was rivaled by the intensity of Boromir’s 
ecstasy. He was submerged into a tempest of pleasure, an ocean of bliss. 
Every inch of the most sensitive part of his body was subjected to such 
impossible, intolerable, infinitely euphoric pressure. And the heat, the heat of 
that place melted all his senses.  

He pulled back and then drove in again. And again. And again… Even if his 
very life were put at stake he would not have halted. This delight was beyond 
life, beyond death.

Delirious with pain, Faramir was sobbing, chocking on his own tears. His 
throat had gone sore, the lower part of his body nearly numb, until… Until 
deep within him some unseen cord was pulled that sent a rain of stars falling 
on him. Though sweet was that bliss it lasted but an instant; and Faramir 
strove to catch it again. He pushed against Boromir, tilting his hips up, his 
face strained with concentration. And yes! There it was again, that explosion 
of light behind his eyelids, that elation of blood in his veins. 

Ere long he was humping at his brother’s hips in earnest, his own need driving 
him. The boy’s cries were replaced by unmistakably pleased groans and loud 
gasps. It was building up inside him, imminent and splendidly all-powerful, 
like a tidal wave. He was balancing on the very tip of it, on the brink of 
beatific oblivion. And as Boromir rolled back his head and called out his 
brother’s name, the wave toppled over and engulfed both of them.

Their existence seized as they became one for a moment. A moment that 
contained an infinity in itself. An eternity later the airy foam washed them 
ashore; and they lay breathless on the crumpled sheets, not a thought 
penetrating their disoriented minds.

A long time passed before their senses came back.

The fire in the hearth had burnt low but they felt no chill, their bodies warmed 
from within by the aftermath of their lovemaking. Faramir reposed on his side, 
facing the wall. Boromir wrapped his strong arm around his brother’s waist 
and kissed him tenderly on the shoulder. In return the boy pressed his back 
against the other’s chest and tilted his face up. The young man leaned over 
and brushed a lock of damp hair off the pale forehead, and touched his lips to 
Faramir’s very, very gently. Just as softly, Faramir returned the gesture. He 
then rolled around and kissed Boromir for serious. The boy’s mouth was still 
salty from the tears he had shed only a while ago, the tears that had rolled 
down all over his face. Could he have imagined they were only foreshadowing 
an unbelievable pleasure of every single one of his senses?..

The brothers were drawn into the kiss with ever increasing ardor, the carnal 
energy swiftly restoring in their young bodies. Neither of them was to find 
sleep that night. Or, as a matter of fact, for many nights afterwards.

~

2 September, 2007

All feedback is MOST appreciated! Please take a minute to tell me what you 
think.

d-cember@mail.ru