Am in an unprecedently good mood, having just seen my confession posted on Tolkien After Hours. It's the one about Thorin's fur coat, in case you care. So I thought I'd share the love – here's some Fíli/Kíli deliciousness for you all.

Disclaimer: Sorry Mr. Tolkien! I'm probably going to hell for this one, but I don't seem to care.


About a year earlier…

They tear into the house in the usual whirlwind that is Fíli-and-Kíli, scattering coats, gloves, weapons in their path. A good day hunting, and their spoils – five rabbits, three squirrels and a hare – are dumped triumphantly on the kitchen sideboard. Soon Fíli is pouring them both mugs of ale, Kíli lighting oil lamps and candles. The house is cold, and they both suddenly notice, silent.

Fíli pokes at the dying embers of the fire. "Make a fire now?" he muses, "or..?" He catches his brother's eye from across the room. A lift of an eyebrow and a slight smirk. It's a lazy and devious way to get what the reaction he wants but Kíli's so easy to play, it's just too tempting.

"Bed," growls Kíli suddenly, flinging furniture out of the way in his haste to get to his brother.

Fíli's ready for this, so he doesn't move an inch when Kíli crashes into him, although he has forgotten about the poker still in his hand, which flies out of his grasp and hits something in the corner of the room. There is the tinkle of breaking glass, but it's not important.

"Bed," agrees Fíli, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

But already Kíli is slip-slip-sliding to the ground in front of him, his hands tracing random lazy patterns down the backs of Fíli's thighs. Fíli's trousers come off so quickly that he's sure they were made for no other purpose than to be thrown across the room by Kíli.

It is not surprising that they never even get as far as the stairs.

No-one else in Middle Earth knows this, but Kíli can give the most sensuous blowjobs you can imagine. The sounds he makes in his throat that you can feel vibrating all the way up to your teeth. The way he stares at you through dark smouldering eyes so he can watch exactly what he's doing to you. As an added bonus, his mouth being otherwise occupied prevents Kíli from saying anything stupid for more than two minutes at a time. Fíli can't decide which is his favourite bit.

So he just closes his eyes and tips his head back, giving himself over entirely to the pleasures of Kíli's tongue. It's so all-consuming that at first he doesn't even notice. Doesn't notice Kíli's hands scrabbling on the floor for his bag. Doesn't notice the rope coiling round his wrists, or that he is being ever-so-gently pushed backwards towards the door. Doesn't notice in fact until it is too late, and he is firmly bound to the door handle. He gasps in surprise as his bonds go taut, and hears Kíli chuckle low in his throat.

"You bastard," says Fíli but he is laughing and secretly admiring his brother's sneakiness. Some people think Kíli is stupid (and Fíli would be the first to admit that those people would often be right) but there is a special brand of Kíli-cleverness that is ingenious – and reserved solely for mischief.

From his position on the floor, Kíli gives him his best seductive look. Which really is quite good. He's had a lot of practice lately.

Fíli waits, naked and bound, holding his breath. Then suddenly, Kíli's tongue flicks out and flashes over the tip of Fíli's cock, making him yelp with pleasure. And then again, as Fíli shudders, gasping for more. This time, it's just Kíli's breath that ghosts over him, searing hot and freezing cold at the same time, and somehow that's even more intense. Fíli's body twists of its own accord, trying desperately to get closer to his brother.

Kíli obliges, his hands smoothing over Fíli's thighs. His tongue traces each curve and contour of Fíli's cock, sliding over velvety smooth skin until there is not a millimetre left uncovered by his wet caress. His teeth lightly graze the tip, once, twice, three times, and each time he does, Fíli shakes and moans low and deep in his throat. Kíli's appreciative murmurs of pleasure reverberate all the way up Fíli's spine. He feels the ecstasy of knowing that Kíli's enjoying this as much as he is. When he takes the whole length of him in his mouth, the back of Fíli's head hits the door with a satisfying thunk.

Kíli plays him like an instrument, each suck and lick, each twist and turn of his fingers eliciting a new sound from Fíli. He spins it out, drawing him back and forth to the brink of orgasm. Until Fíli feels himself so close, so close to release now, and he is yelling and gasping and shaking and – and – suddenly – nothing…

His eyes snap open. Kíli is standing a clear three feet away, which might as well be miles because he's not touching him and the sudden loss is unbearable. Fíli staggers, as if the world has inexplicably disappeared beneath his feet. Only his bound hands keep him from falling to the floor. His eyes go wide with dismay. It's almost comical.

"Kíli! No! Don't stop!" he gasps.

There is a wicked look on his brother's face that makes him realise he's in real trouble.

"You look so hot," says Kíli, grinning, and it's perfectly true. Fíli's eyes are wild, his face flushed, his hair dishevelled, his braids unravelling. Panting, hot and hard against the door. His muscles rippling and straining against his bonds. Very obviously aroused. Naked save for his boots.

But even being the most erotic sight this side of the universe isn't helping his case any, for Kíli remains maddeningly out of reach.

Fíli breathes hard, trying to think, trying to get himself back under control. He feels desperate, feels he might shatter. He licks his lips. "Come here then," he says, low and tempting, but Kíli's having far too much fun with this. He fixes his eyes on his Fíli with a steely glare. Nonchalantly, he begins to unbuckle his wristguards, letting them drop carelessly to the floor. He wriggles out of his shirt, maddeningly slowly and chucks it at Fíli who shrugs it off with a growl. With the other hand, Kíli is very slowly and deliberately undoing his trousers.

"Kili…please…" begs Fíli. He feels like he's going to explode.

Kíli remembers the first time he discovered he could make his brother beg. His big, tough brother, who has never begged anyone for anything in his life – reduced to a gasping, pleading, wild-eyed mess by Kíli's hands and teeth and tongue.

When Kíli casually brings his finger to his mouth and sucks it, Fíli actually whimpers.

Kíli's hand slips inside his trousers. His eyes flutter closed as his hand begins to move.

"Kíli…" his brother groans desperately, "I…I need you…"

"Mmmm," murmurs the dark-haired devil. "Ohhhh…" His hand is moving faster now. "That's sooo good…" and it is, though truth be told, he's getting more pleasure from Fíli's reaction. He watches, fascinated, through half-closed eyes, as Fíli writhes against the door, his hands twisting and turning in their bonds. But Kíli is good at knots and he knows he's not going anywhere. The ropes cut cruelly into his wrists, but he cannot stop fighting the restraints. He cannot tear his eyes away from Kíli touching himself, Kíli moaning, Kíli – damn him to hell for being so hot…

Fíli looks like he's going to cry.

"Ohhh…" gasps Kíli, throwing his head back dramatically.

Fíli snarls, writhing in his bonds. "Kíli," he warns, "Get. Back. Here. Now."

OK, no, maybe not going to cry, thinks Kíli. But possibly going to kill him. Kíli shakes his head sadly as if it is all out of his control, and gives Fíli his best puppy-dog eyes look. He's been perfecting that one for a long time.

With a roar, Fíli slams his foot against the door in frustration so hard that the wood splinters beneath his heel.

Yep, definitely going to kill him. Kíli does his very best not to snigger. He's not entirely successful.

Fíli aims a vicious kick at him, which Kíli neatly sidesteps, laughing.

"You are evil," he growls.

"Oh what's the matter, big brother?" taunts Kíli. "Getting all hot and bothered?"

Fíli uses all the curse words he knows then invents a few more just for good measure. His skin burns from lack of Kíli's touch. His whole body throbs, desire shaking him to his core. His chest heaves, he gasps for breath , but it's Kíli he needs more, needs to feel him all over him, inside him, wants to dig his nails into his back, his teeth into his neck and – for the love of Aule, no! Kíli's trousers are sliding over his perfect hips and Fíli just loses all semblance of self-control.

"Fuck me – now!" he yells.

Kíli's eyes open wide in mock-outrage. "You are so bossy."

He stands in front of him, triumphant, naked. He looks glorious, right down to the wicked gleam in his eyes. But even the luck of supernaturally sexy creatures must run out some time and the point has come where Fíli's body just cannot wait any longer and with a degree of strength that terrifies them both, he rips the heavy door from its hinges, the wood around the handle shattering at the same time, and comes crashing forward with a roar and a flying cloud of golden hair.

With only a warning creak, the door comes hurtling towards them, narrowly missing Fíli's heels as he dives for his brother. This sudden brush with death does not trouble him in the slightest. With his typical single-minded determination, he flings his bound hands over his head so they are in front of him, pushes Kíli to his knees and, grabbing fistfuls of his dark hair, fucks him hard in the mouth.

He comes fast and hard, a wordless cry escaping him and the world blurs, dims and shakes as he explodes, waves crashing over him taking him down, deep, into darkness.

Kíli sucks, drinking him down eagerly. Fíli tastes like spices and oranges and woodsmoke and all the world's delicious things. Kíli sucks and swallows. And swallows and swallows again – and by Mahal, where is all this coming from? – and again and again and, just as Kíli's starting to get a bit worried (what if Fíli dehydrates and dies?) finally, he's spent.

He gasps and shudders as Kíli licks him clean, murmuring in the back of his throat. He unties Fíli's hands and gently massages the circulation back into his wrists, then moves up to rest his face against Fíli's belly, kissing the line of golden hair there. "You're my favourite taste," he whispers.

With shaking hands, Fíli tugs him up til their faces meet and tries to form words, but it appears that language has almost entirely left him.

"You…" he gasps.

"Me?" exclaims Kíli. His face is all innocence. "What about you? You nearly drowned me," he says seriously.


Naughty Kíli! Is it time for Fíli to get his revenge – what do you think?

Oh god, you have no idea how much fun this was to write! I'm still not sure if I'm any good at writing them sexy, but hey, I'm working on it. Please review – let me know if I'm doing it right!

Posting this, before I lose my nerve!