Title: Chocolate Painted Elf Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel Rating: NC17 Summary: Instead of sailing, Erestor and Glorfindel remained behind and live in the modern world. This can be seen as the sequel to ‘Whipped Cream and Fan-Fiction’. And, of course, I’ve used the daily prompts posted on the Lotrallslash group. Partially typed with a cat resting her head on my wrist... Genre: Romance Word count: 2,872 Warnings: General silliness, bad humour, and some smut thrown in for good measure. Beta: Minuial Nuwing Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 8 Jun 2006 – ‘wiggle‘ and ‘read‘; 15 Jun 2006 – ‘harmony‘; 15 Jul 2006 – ‘melt‘; 8 Aug 2006 – ‘sizzling‘; 11 Aug 2006 – ‘haircut‘; 14 Aug 2006 – ‘grow‘; 19 Aug 2006 – ‘ribbons’; 20 Aug 2006 – ‘angel’; 23 Aug 2006 – ‘picture‘; 24 Aug 2006 – ‘spill’; 27 Aug 2006 – ‘jump’; 18 Sep 2006 – ‘dolly‘; 21 Sep 2006 – ‘trail’; 22 Sep 2006 – ‘party’; 29 Sep 2006 – ‘whistle’; 1 Oct 2006 – ‘spritz’; 3 Oct 2006 – ‘erotic‘; 11 Oct 2006 – ‘monster’; 30 Oct 2006 – ‘wild‘; 3 Nov 2006 – ‘trick/tricky’; 4 Nov 2006 – ‘dessert‘; 27 July 2007 – ‘deep’; 12 Aug 2007 – ‘zealous’; 11 Aug 2007 – ‘worship’; 13 Aug 2007 – ‘enthusiasm’; 23 Aug 2007 – ‘element’. Written for Aglarien, who was kind enough to do my ‘Inwë’s Ramblings’ banner for my LJ. ************************ Glorfindel shook his head, and then took another sip of his wine. Erestor was in his element, his enthusiasm showing as he spoke to a fellow lecturer about Tolkien. The erstwhile seneschal made a mental note to remind Erestor later not to be quite so zealous; there were times when the darkling elf forgot himself. Glorfindel lived in fear that one day Erestor would say too much and give away who they really were. But speaking to Erestor could sometimes be tricky. The former advisor of Imladris did not take too kindly to being constantly reminded to watch his tongue, so Glorfindel had to find ways to make it sound as if he was not chastising his lover. It was a talent that the golden- haired elf had learnt to become very adept at – necessary to keep any sort of harmony in their home. “Look at my dolly, Finn!” Glorfindel looked down at the little girl next to him, her face aglow with pleasure. He smiled. “She looks beautiful. Is she new?” Suzie nodded, her curls bouncing. “Yeth. Daddy buyed her for me.” “Bought, little one.” Glorfindel’s voice was gentle. “Bought,” Suzie dutifully repeated, her smile revealing her two missing front teeth. “What Ezwa doing, Finn?” “Ezra is talking to some very important people, little one.” “What about?” “About work that Ezra did on a famous writer.” “Oh. Ezwa going to be long? He promithed to wead me a thtory.” Glorfindel knelt down. “I am sure he will not be long. You know Ezra always keeps his promises.” He gently tweaked one of the little girl’s many curls. “Do you have new ribbons, too?” Suzie nodded vigorously. “Daddy buyed…oops, bought,” she said, remembering her little lesson from earlier, “them for me.” “And very pretty they are. I think they match the pink in your dolly’s dress.” “Daddy say that too! That why he buy them.” Glorfindel grinned, deciding to ignore the other little slip-up. He knew that, in time, Suzie would learn to say the correct words. “Well, you look like a little angel.” “I do?” “Absolutely. Look, I think Ezra has finally finished. Shall we go over to him?” He rose and held out his hand, but was surprised to see the hurt look on the little girl’s face. “What is it, little one?” “You not ask dolly’s name!” Whoops. Glorfindel mentally kicked himself. “Forgive me. You are right, I should have asked. Is it too late for me to know?” Suzie tilted her head to one side and considered. “Her name Molly,” she finally said, though Glorfindel saw her gaze was still a little disapproving. “Hello, Suzie.” Erestor came alongside Glorfindel. “Is that a new doll? What is her name?” ‘Trust Erestor to do it right,’ Glorfindel thought a little sourly. “Her name Molly! You wemember to ask. Finn forgot, even though I tell him new dolly,” Suzie said, looking at Glorfindel a little accusingly, making the golden-haired elf wince. “Ah, but Finn has a lot of things on his mind. He has to make sure that there is enough food and drink for people like your mummy and daddy. If it were left to me, I would let everyone starve or die of thirst.” Suzie’s eyes widened. “You would?” Erestor nodded solemnly. “I like to talk too much, and so I forget things like that. That is why Finn has to remember for me.” “Oh.” Suzie turned her blue eyes towards Glorfindel. “I sowwy, Finn. You got loths to think about.” “There is no need to apologise, little one,” Glorfindel said, smiling. “But Ezra is right; I do need to make sure that there is enough food and drink for everyone. Which reminds me; I had best see how the caterers are going.” The last sentence was directed at Erestor, who nodded. “Go. I shall entertain Suzie with the story I promised her.” “Goody! Can I choothe, pleathe Ezwa?” “Of course you can.” Erestor winked at Glorfindel. “Though I do know a very good story about Finn fighting a monster.” “No!” Suzie’s response was emphatic. “Don’t like storwies with monthers, Eswa. Like storwies with printhesses.” “Then a story with princesses it shall be. Which one do you want to hear?” Glorfindel watched, albeit a little worriedly, as Erestor took Suzie’s hand and led her to a chair in the corner of the room before making his way to the kitchen. ************************ “The party went well, did it not?” Erestor stretched contentedly before picking up the brandy balloon. “You were not seriously thinking of telling Suzie…” “…the story of you fighting a monster? Do not be silly, Glorfindel, of course not. First of all, I would never do that and, secondly, Suzie does not like monster stories.” Glorfindel sighed. “You worry me, sometimes,” he said quietly. The former seneschal poured himself a scotch, and then added a spritz of soda before sitting down in the chair opposite Erestor. “Stop worrying, melethen. I know you think I get carried away, but I am always careful.” “But…” “No ‘buts’, Glorfindel.” Erestor’s voice was stern, still carrying the weight of authority despite the many centuries since his time as advisor in Imladris. “All right, I shall not say anything further.” “Till next time.” Erestor smirked, taking in the surprised look on Glorfindel’s face. “Do you not think I know when you ‘subtly’ try and remind me to be careful, melethen? You try and disguise it, I will give you that. But I know you too well.” Glorfindel didn’t say anything, seeing no need to reply to the obvious. Instead, he took a sip of his scotch and leaned back in his chair. “Just keep in mind that I know *you* all too well, ervainen vorn.” “I think I need to get another haircut,” Erestor mused, ignoring what Glorfindel had said. His hair was long enough to cover his ears, but was not as long as what it used to be, instead reaching down to just touch his shoulders. “No.” Glorfindel’s voice was decisive. “I am not cutting your hair any more, Erestor. I want you to let it grow; I much prefer you with longer hair.” “You know why I keep my hair shorter, Glorfindel.” “That reason is no longer valid, melethen. There are so many men who wear their hair long these days that it no longer matters.” “But, as a lecturer, I should set a standard.” “Which no one will care about, Erestor. They are more interested in what you can teach, not in how long your hair is. And, if I have to,” he continued, taking in the slightly mutinous expression on the other elf’s face, “I will hide every pair of scissors we have so that you can not cut your hair yourself.” “I can easily buy a pair!” Glorfindel carefully placed his glass on the table and rose from his chair. Erestor’s breath hitched. His lover always looked absolutely magnificent, but even more so when he was angry. The look in the golden-haired elf’s eyes was filled with promise of…what, Erestor wasn’t entirely sure, but the heat from Glorfindel’s gaze made the darkling elf want to melt into a puddle. “You. Are. Not. Cutting. Your. Hair. Any. More.” Each word was enunciated with careful precision. Erestor nodded mutely. He could feel the air sizzling between them, and he swallowed. “Bedroom,” he whispered, and watched as Glorfindel’s eyes widened slightly. “Bedroom?” Glorfindel echoed. “And what, exactly, did you have in mind, ervainen vorn?” If anything, Glorfindel’s eyes had darkened even further, leaving Erestor in no doubt that he had guessed correctly his mate’s mood. “Surely you do not need me to tell you?” he responded. The smile on his face was full of sensual promise, and Glorfindel groaned. “Even after all this time, melethen, I am still wild with desire for you,” he said huskily as he began taking off his shirt. Erestor giggled – an incongruous sound that any elf who had known the advisor in his days in Imladris would have been shocked to hear – and began to make his way to their bedroom, giving a little wiggle of his arse as he went. He stopped, however, when he heard Glorfindel whistle. “Why did you whistle?” Erestor asked, nonplussed. “Because I like seeing you wiggle that pert little backside of yours, that is why,” Glorfindel said. “But then,” he continued, his smile lustful, “I like everything about you.” “Glorfindel! You make me sound as if I were a…a…sex object!” “Ah, but you are, melethen…my sex object to do with as I please.” “I do not think so,” Erestor huffed. “If anything, you are mine. Oh, you need not look at me like that,” he continued, seeing the expression on Glorfindel’s face. “I have seen how others look at you, and I know what runs through their minds.” “Jealous, are we?” the golden-haired elf asked mildly. “Hardly,” Erestor scoffed. “I just do not like how they look at you.” Glorfindel grinned. “In other words, you are jealous.” “I am not…oh, all right, yes, I am jealous. Satisfied?” “Flattered, actually, ervainen vorn. But you need not fear my seeking another, for if I am to be honest, I am just as jealous when others cast their looks upon you. I see the avarice in their eyes; I know they desire to possess you, to make you theirs. As much as I am yours, you are mine.” Glorfindel approached the darkling elf. “So, what do you have in mind for your sex object tonight, hmmm?” Erestor’s eyes glittered as they took in the bare, muscled chest and abdomen of his mate. “I have just the perfect thing,” he purred. Intrigued, Glorfindel followed Erestor into their bedroom. “What now?” he asked once they were inside. “Strip and lie down on the bed.” “Mmmm…I do like the sound of that,” Glorfindel said as he began removing the rest of his clothing. When finished, he lay down on the bed expectantly. His eyebrows rose slightly as he saw Erestor approaching him with strips of material. “What are you planning?” he asked suspiciously. Erestor smiled. “I am going to tie you to the bed. Spread your legs. Uh, uh, no complaints, no questions – you will do as I tell you.” It did not take long before Glorfindel lay spread-eagled, his ankles and wrists tied to each of the four corners of the bed. “Now for one more thing…raise your head,” the darkling elf instructed, then deftly tied the remaining strip over Glorfindel’s eyes. “There,” he said with satisfaction, taking in the sight before him. He could see that his lover was looking forward to what Erestor had in store, if his arousal was any indication. Opening the drawer in the bedside table, he removed the container he had bought earlier in the day. “Are you not getting undressed?” “No questions, remember? In fact, I do not want to hear a sound from you.” Erestor’s rebuke was gentle; nevertheless, Glorfindel knew it to be an order. His keen ears, however, picked up the rustle of clothing, which meant that the darkling elf was getting undressed. He had heard Erestor opening and shutting a drawer earlier, but had presumed that his lover was removing the lube that was stored there. So he was unprepared for what came next: the strange sensation of something being smeared – no, brushed – on his nipples. He opened his mouth to ask Erestor what he was doing before remembering in the last moment. “Remember the whipped cream?” Erestor asked softly, and smiled as Glorfindel nodded. “Well, this time, you are *my* dessert. But, instead of whipped cream, I have chocolate body paint. You know how much I love chocolate…just as much as I love you. And, I thought, what better dessert than chocolate…” Here Erestor licked at one of Glorfindel’s nipples. “Covered…” Another lick. “Elf…” Glorfindel’s erection lay hard on his stomach, pre-come leaving a glistening trail as the golden-haired elf squirmed under Erestor’s ministrations. He could feel the sweat breaking out as the darkling elf carefully, gently, licked away the chocolate. The touch of the brush on his stomach nearly made him jump, but he forced himself to lie still as Erestor applied more of the sticky sweetness before proceeding to slowly lick it off. The darkling elf continued with his slow, erotic torture and Glorfindel was finding it more and more difficult to remain quiet. In the end, however, a whimper left his lips, and Erestor immediately stopped what he was doing. “I have not finished with you yet, melethen,” he purred. “But you still need to remain quiet.” Glorfindel swallowed. When Erestor began to brush his erection with slow, maddening strokes, he clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth. The chocolate initially felt almost cold against the heat of his body, and Glorfindel gave a slight shiver. “It will not stay cold for long,” Erestor promised, taking in the sight of his lover with the now liberally coated erection. Placing the container on the bedside table, the darkling elf wriggled down so that he was at eye-level with Glorfindel’s shaft. “Now this,” he began, licking his lips, “is something worthy of worship.” His eyes gleamed. “You are right about the fan-fiction, melethen. The stories can be *most* inspiring. Those writers can be rather…creative with their ideas. I have no doubt you agree that it would be a shame if we did not…utilise some of them.” Glorfindel squirmed. As a regular reader of the fan-fiction written about them, he knew exactly what Erestor was talking about. ‘Creative’ was probably too tame a word to use where some of the stories was concerned. “What a picture you present, pen-valthennen,” Erestor purred. “Tied to a bed, your ‘prodigious’ member liberally covered in chocolate…mmm…if only those writers could see you now. I have no doubt it will give them something to dream about. At least they are right about a certain part of your anatomy: your member is most prodigious indeed.” With one long swipe of his tongue, Erestor licked off some of the chocolate, watching in amusement as his lover frantically tried to stifle his cries. “You know,” he continued in a conversational tone, “I have often toyed with the idea of writing some stories of my own. Mayhap I should write one about tonight. What do you think, hmm?” Erestor licked off more of the chocolate, now mixed slightly with the pre-come leaking copiously from the tip of Glorfindel’s erection. “Oh, how delicious,” the darkling elf moaned. “My two favourite flavours mixed together…pure nectar.” Glorfindel was sweating freely now. He longed to scream, rant, beg, anything. Erestor was more than teasing him now; he was torturing Glorfindel to the very brink, and the golden- haired elf was not sure how much more he could take. He knew Erestor was watching him, knew his lover’s eyes had darkened to almost black with desire, but longed for the darkling elf to do more than what he had been doing. Then, without warning, he got his wish, and this time he could not hold back his cry as Erestor took him deep into his mouth and began sucking voraciously. It did not take long for Glorfindel to spill his seed, and Erestor swallowed eagerly, the seed mixing with the remains of the chocolate. Then he quickly undid the ties and removed Glorfindel’s blindfold. “Better?” he asked, his voice slightly strained. The erstwhile seneschal was gasping at the intensity of his orgasm, and could only nod. Then he saw that Erestor was still hard. “Take me,” he whispered, turning and raising himself on all fours. Erestor needed no second invitation. Quickly grabbing some lube from the drawer, he liberally coated his aching erection, whimpering as he did so. Tossing the lube aside, he grabbed Glorfindel’s hips and began pushing in, hoping that there was enough lube to ease his way. Glorfindel took a deep breath as Erestor breached him, relaxing as much as possible. When the darkling elf was fully in, he began to thrust, his pace frantic in his desperation for his own release. Glorfindel could feel his own member hardening once more, and made to reach for it. “No,” Erestor growled, swatting Glorfindel’s hand away. “Mine.” The darkling elf’s hand grasped his lover’s erection, and Glorfindel gave in to the fire that was sweeping through his veins once more. This time his orgasm was accompanied by a long, drawn-out sigh, which was drowned out by Erestor’s shout as he emptied himself inside the golden-haired elf. Glorfindel fell onto the bed, the darkling elf slumping on top of him, exhausted. “Were you serious?” Glorfindel’s muffled voice made Erestor raise his head. “Serious about what?” he asked tiredly. “About writing.” Glorfindel turned his head to look at his mate. “Writing? Do you mean writing fan-fiction?” Erestor asked, surprised. Glorfindel nodded. “I quite like the idea,” he said. Erestor became suspicious at the seemingly innocent tone of his lover’s voice. “Why do you like the idea?” “Just think of the ‘research’ we would need to do; after all, we should make things as realistic as possible. Do you not agree?” Erestor’s only response was to pick up a nearby pillow and swat his now laughing mate with it. ************************ Elvish translations: ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one melethen – my love pen-valthennen – my golden one *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*