Instead of answering, Aragorn let himself be steered toward the bed, gently and with the utmost care given to the pressure about his waist. Neither of them spoke as the Elf divested Aragorn of stained shirt and rumpled tunic, hands moving more swiftly than they did with bow and arrow.
"Would this convince you?" the Elf said at last, leaning forward to trail his tongue along Aragorn' collarbone.
The Man shivered.
"Or this?" When Legolas' tongue came to a flat nipple it paused there, tracing lazy patterns on the flesh.
"Please!" yelped Aragorn, because he could think of nothing else to say.
"Tell me if your dreams do this." Before Aragorn could get a look at what the Elf was doing, his bedraggled royal leggings were ripped down around his ankles and Legolas was grinning as the Man's erection sprang free. "Should I?" Legolas purred, close enough for Aragorn to feel the breath on his cock.
How to answer a question like that? But Legolas didn't wait for an answer, just as he didn't wait for Aragorn's hands to bury themselves in his mane in rapture. He smiled as he sucked Aragorn dry, never closing his eyes, never letting the worn face now flashing in mounting ecstasy from his sight.
When Aragorn came it was with a hoarse shout, as red and raw as the past years had been black and barren. His body went slack and Legolas gathered him into his arms, not stopping to tend to his Elven locks. After a moment Aragorn looked up into those sapphire eyes and smiled. "You'll be the death of me yet," he whispered.
"Dreams don't kill," Legolas replied, lacing the Man's limp fingers with his own.
Aragorn almost said it then; almost professed his deepest, grandest belief in the Elf's presence. But there was still more to be gained here. "The master of the woodland realm has a bit of a hair problem," he said instead, chuckling as he batted at the tresses he himself had mussed.
"There are more important things than—" Legolas began. He never got the chance to finish.
Finger to Legolas' lips, Aragorn extricated himself from the Elf's embrace and proceeded to peel green leggings back from pale skin. The Man only grinned at Legolas' wide eyes. "Dreams don't harden, either," he said by way of explanation, leaning down. He frowned as Legolas stopped him with a hand.
"Wait," Legolas gasped. "We could do that, or…" The Elf tried to rise from the bed but Aragorn wouldn't let him. "Over there, in the bag I brought. Get the jar—it's blue, I think."
Casting numerous glances over his shoulder—as if afraid Legolas would disappear in a puff of smoke the moment his back was turned—Aragorn complied.
"Open it."
A sweet smell, delicate and faintly floral, filled the air around them.
"What do you use it for?" Aragorn asked, peering at the stuff in his hand with interest.
"It prevents pain."
Aragorn frowned. "It doesn't…numb, does it?" He colored a little. "I wanted to feel…all…of you."
Legolas smiled and took the jar from a perplexed Aragorn. "And so you shall. This doesn't numb at all, it just helps things go smoothly. You apply it like this—."
Aragorn jolted, nearly falling off the bed. "It's cold!"
"You'll have your chance with me," Legolas laughed, swabbing another helping along Aragorn's stirring member. "Or…do you know quite what to do?"
Aragorn looked indignant. "I know the principle of the thing! Just, not from experience."
"I'd be happy to teach—"
Aragorn silenced any further words by slamming his lips onto Legolas', searing their tongues in an all-consuming embrace. "No," he panted at last, pulling just far enough away that the Elf had room to gasp air. "You've given enough. Now it's my turn."
With arms ropey from brawling, Aragorn flipped Legolas onto his stomach, smoothing the tousled blonde hair as he did. "All these years," he murmured, nuzzling the Elf's neck as his erection pressed into the pale, smooth spine.
Legolas shuddered beneath him.
Aragorn slid down then and—prompting a whimper of protest from Legolas—away, just long enough to prepare the Elf with the sweet-smelling unguent.
Legolas' moans began almost before the Man entered him. Once there, Aragorn encouraged him with butterfly kisses along his shoulders and the back of his neck, each meeting of skin timed perfectly to each thrust, evoking little yelps in between the moans. Up, up they climbed in pitch and intensity until finally with a shriek of Aragorn's name the Elf came; felt the Man's release inside him even as his tongue, toes and very being curled in ecstasy.
Aragorn retrained the state of mind as he rolled off Legolas to hold the pale body in his arms just as he had been held earlier. They lay like that for a few minutes, not saying anything, the only sounds those of their own ragged breathing. Or so Aragorn thought.
But gradually Legolas started to shake, and when Aragorn glanced down at him in concern he saw that the Elf was stifling giggles.
"What?" Aragorn asked, smiling though he wasn't quite sure what was going on.
Legolas only shook his head and squealed with mirth.
"What is it? Don't make me wheedle it out of you," Aragorn threatened, pattering his fingers along Legolas' armpit to show just what he meant.
"Shh!" the Elf half-whispered, half-tittered. "I'll tell you. There's someone listening at the door."
Aragorn raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure! My ears are better than yours," Legolas replied haughtily, twitching his ear under Aragorn's lips for added effect. "Do you want to go see for yourself?"
"And leave you alone in this bed? I think not." Aragorn kissed the pointy Elf ear because it was there, then let Legolas buy his face in the crook of his neck. "I wonder what the guards are going to report today," Aragorn laughed.
"Mmm," purred Legolas, seeming not to have heard. "You thrum deliciously when you talk."
"This is the best I've ever had, it sure is!" Aragorn yelled for the listener's benefit, prompting another giggle from Legolas and a shuffling of feet outside the door.
"You mean that?" the Elf murmured sleepily into Aragorn's neck.
"Of course!"
"You believe I'm really here, then."
Aragorn chuckled. "Legolas, I've believed in you for quite some time now." He tucked a blonde braid behind the Elf's ear.
"Do that again."
Aragorn picked up another braid. "What? Play with your hair?"
"No—well, that's fine too, but just keep laughing. Or talk, even. It feels good."
"All right…" Aragorn drawled, feeling the Elf's delight at the resonant tones. "You never told me." He stopped himself, unsure if he was about to ruin the moment.
"Told you what?" Legolas was fading fast and Aragorn wasn't far behind. Even if the words were ill-timed, the two of them would soon be blissfully asleep in each other's arms.
"Why your father disowned you," Aragorn whispered, half-hoping the Elf was too far gone to hear.
But Legolas adjusted his position so he could see the Man's face. The sun's rays, which had finally made their way across the threshold to the bed, caught the sapphire flecks in their pools of paler blue and made them dance.
"I didn't tell you?"
Aragorn shook his head.
Legolas brought his hands up to either side of Aragorn's face. His smile was salty as he said, "I love you, Aragorn. I would never leave you."
"But what does that—"
"My father guessed as much. He knew I wouldn't leave Middle Earth. He tried to talk me out of the whole plan to go to you and…" Legolas shrugged a little and smiled. "Guess who won out."
Aragorn was speechless. He didn't know whether to clutch the Elf's pale hand or cup that beautiful face with its milky jawline. In the end he did neither. Legolas guided Aragorn's hand to right where it needed to be.