Author's Note: If sibcest squicks you, I suggest that you turn back now (or
not read past the first chapter of the story). This is a collaboration
between me and a friend, Jenn. I wrote for Faramir while she wrote for
Boromir. Reviews are absolutely loved and welcomed (while flames will be
happily used to make smores). Feel free to send Jenn a comment at
jholsh1@towson.edu.
~*~*~*~*~
"You were never supposed to have read those," Faramir wept into Boromir's firm chest. It was almost as though his world had been shattered. For the entirety of the year that Boromir had been gone, those secret poems were all that had held him together; they had been his only outlet. Into those poems he had poured his soul, everything that had possibly been on his mind. How could Boromir not have been disgusted by what he had read?
Boromir didn't even know where to begin to console the shivering form that was pressed firmly against him. "I'm sorry, Faramir. I'm sorry," was all he could manage to say as he stroked the back of Faramir's neck with his calloused fingers.
Eventually Faramir's tears stopped and he regained his composure soon after. Wiping his tears away, he pulled out of Boromir's embrace and turned his back to him. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice a good deal calmer and more controlled, "I did not mean to lose myself in such a way."
"You had every right to," Boromir murmured, not daring to touch Faramir for fear that he would recoil and send him away. He struggled with himself, wondering whether he should confirm every wish and adoration that Faramir had penned in his prose or whether he should hold his tongue and suppress the vague stirring in his mind and body whenever he was around him. //"It's not natural," he thought. "I shouldn't think of him in such a way."// He eyed Faramir's back, slowly moving his gaze down to the thin, drawn waistline and then to-- //"No!"// He looked away. "I still love you, Faramir. More than anything," he breathed just above a whisper as odd tingling sensations raced up and down his backbone.
"You only say that because you have to," Faramir whispered, "Because you feel sorry for me." He turned to face Boromir, the lines of his face set strong and determined. "I do not want your pity," he said firmly.
"Do not instruct me on how to feel, Faramir!" Boromir said with sudden and unintentional harshness. "I do feel sorry for you, because you're so afraid that I'll leave you one day and not look back! Well that will not happen, I assure you." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "If you are so bent on the notion that I only love you for sake of our kinship then you are seriously mistaken. Your poetry speaks louder than your own voice, louder than your tears and sobs."
He stepped forward, leaving mere inches between his and Faramir's faces. "If you only knew the way I felt when I read the first line, nay, the first *word* on that sheet of parchment, then you would not be saying this." Then he kissed Faramir, full on his trembling lips. Realizing what he had let himself do he jerked backwards a pace, face pale with horror at the act and how Faramir might react. Mouth dry, he simply gaped and stood rooted like a tree to the stone floor.
"What have I done?" Boromir choked, barely intelligible.
Eyes wide with shock, Faramir traced his lips with his fingers, still feeling the tingle that Boromir's own lips had left. "Boromir..." he mouthed, though no sound was emitted.
It clicked then that Boromir should apologize, and profusely at that, and he immediately found his voice again. "Faramir, I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you or disgust you, I couldn't help it, I--" His cheeks were burning as blood turned his face several shades of scarlet. He reached for Faramir's hand and pawed at it, trying desperately to coax a reaction from him.
Faramir's eyes flicked from Boromir's face to the hand caressing his own. "You... You did not..." he began, still stunned by what had just happened.
Realizing that nothing he said could convince Boromir of the torrent of emotions that inundated his gentle mind. Breaking free of his paralysis, he threw himself at his brother at full force, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing himself to Boromir as much as humanly possible. "I love you, Boromir!" he sounded, "I love you more than anything else in this world!"
Boromir's heart leapt with unbridled joy as he welcomed Faramir into his arms. "I love you, Faramir! I love you I love you I love you," he said over and over as his head spun with happiness; the effect of the alcohol had almost entirely worn off, whether by magic or something more tangible. He wanted to kiss Faramir again, wanted to taste him again on his lips without nerves or inhibitions hindering him. But since Faramir was securely plastered to his body, he couldn't bear to wrench himself free of the embrace. It was too perfect to let go.
"The year you were gone was the most unhappy of my life, Boromir. I thought that it would never end. I thought that you would never return, and every day you were away, I felt I died a little more." Faramir's arms tightened around Boromir's waist, surprising the older man with the strength the scrawny arms possessed.
Boromir gasped at the tight grip he was caught in, but decided to not say anything about it. He ran a finger along Faramir's cheekbone lovingly, "Die? Nay, you are too young to die," he breathed. Inside Boromir was aching: he knew that sooner or later he would be leaving again, and for how long no one knew. "I'm here, now, Faramir. There's nowhere I'd rather be."
Faramir pulled away slightly, only just enough so that he could tilt his head and look up at his brother. "I'm almost afraid to blink for fear of this being a dream from which I must wake."
Boromir's lips curled into a smile. "It is a dream, only a dream that's come true," he uttered tenderly. He chanced a quick kiss on Faramir's smooth forehead as his body seemed to burn like a where it met with Faramir's. He squirmed almost imperceptibly as he tried to mentally quell the desire radiating from deep inside of him out to the roots of his hair and the tips of his toes.
Faramir's eyes lowered in rapture as his brother pressed his lips to his forehead, his long eyelashes casting sooty shadows on his pale cheeks. "I love you, Boromir," he whispered again.
"This feels so right," Boromir sighed as he buried his nose in Faramir's hair, inhaling the sweet aroma of orchids there.
"Because it is," he breathed, exhaling in complete and utter happiness. "Will you stay with me tonight, Boromir? I do not want you to leave just yet."
Boromir didn't have to think about his response. "Yes," he blurted out, barely leaving any silence after the question had left Faramir's mouth. "Yes," he reaffirmed.
If it was at all possible, Faramir's eyes lit up more, sparkling more brilliantly than they ever had before. Giving Boromir a glimpse of his childish nature that had all but disappeared, Faramir broke away from Boromir and bounded toward the bed, shedding the formal clothing he was wearing and tossing the garments to all corners of the room. He grabbed his dressing gown and tugged it onto his head before climing into the bed, sliding under the warm blankets. He slid to one side, making enough room for Boromir to join him.
Boromir couldn't take his eyes off of Faramir's wiry body as he disrobed and hopped into bed, and a pang of worry stabbed Boromir in the chest because it was obvious enough that Faramir had taken to eating very little during his absence.
"Come on!" Faramir chirped brightly, beaming at Boromir from where he lay nestled in the blankets.
He was immediately brought back to the present situation and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I would have to leave to get changed, I fear, but I don't want to be parted with you for even one second," Boromir groaned.
"Then remove your tunic and sleep in your breeches." Faramir beamed up at Boromir; to Boromir, he was the perfect picture of sweetness and everything good. "I promise I won't mind," Faramir joked.
Grinning and checking his shyness at the door, Boromir effortlessly lifted the tunic up over his head and let it fall away into a heap in the middle of the floor, his muscles flexing in the motion and accentuating his strong chest. Kicking off his boots, he strode confidently to the bed and pulled back the coverlet. He positioned himself so that he was facing Faramir, their chests almost touching, eyes locked level with each other as they rested against the eiderdown pillows. "Hello there," he chuckled in a low, gritty voice as he grinned warmly.
"Hello," Faramir said through a yawn. He gave Boromir a lazy smile and snuggled closer to him, enjoying the heat that radiated from his brother, and the feel of his smooth, bare chest. They had slept in the same bed more times than not as they had grown up together, but somehow, to Faramir, this time felt different. He felt complete, whole, and the feeling was more intoxicating than the headiest of wines.
Boromir stretched his right arm out from underneath him and let it rest above Faramir's head on the pillow as he worried a strand of chestnut hair from Faramir's head between his thumb and forefinger. Tentatively, he snaked his other hand over to rest in the dip in Faramir's body between where the ribcage ended and the pelvis began. He felt a quiver pass through Faramir's slender form once he let his hand touch the smooth fabric of his dressing gown. "Sleep... I won't leave you," he whispered.
"I should hope not..." His eyes lowered lethargically, sleep taking his body over quickly now that he was in the comfort of his brother's arms. "It took you forever to get here..." A loving smile played across his lips as he slipped into slumber easily.
Boromir let Faramir sleep, but somehow he couldn't let himself shut his eyes. It seemed to him that a great burden had lifted from Faramir's shoulders judging by the sheer blissful contentment painted on Faramir's delicate features as he slept. Boromir thought that maybe now things would be better; Faramir wouldn't be so downcast and secretive about his feelings anymore, and maybe, just maybe he would go back to the way the old Faramir was: carefree and full of love and bubbling energy... and not so... so... *emaciated*.
Boromir ran his hand along the contour of Faramir's side, following every groove in his brother's ribcage with his fingers. He looked again at Faramir's sleeping face. Pressing his lips to Faramir's forehead in a ghosting kiss, Boromir purred softly "Sleep well, Faramir."
He turned his body slightly and snuffed out the candle that sat flickering on the table next to Faramir's bed before settling down for the night.
Faintly, as sleep finally descended upon him, Boromir could hear the sounds of merrymaking in honor of his homecoming cutting through the still night. "I couldn't ask for a better thing to come home to," he murmured softly before letting his eyelids droop and close, the last thing he saw being Faramir's face.
~*~*~*~*~
"You were never supposed to have read those," Faramir wept into Boromir's firm chest. It was almost as though his world had been shattered. For the entirety of the year that Boromir had been gone, those secret poems were all that had held him together; they had been his only outlet. Into those poems he had poured his soul, everything that had possibly been on his mind. How could Boromir not have been disgusted by what he had read?
Boromir didn't even know where to begin to console the shivering form that was pressed firmly against him. "I'm sorry, Faramir. I'm sorry," was all he could manage to say as he stroked the back of Faramir's neck with his calloused fingers.
Eventually Faramir's tears stopped and he regained his composure soon after. Wiping his tears away, he pulled out of Boromir's embrace and turned his back to him. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice a good deal calmer and more controlled, "I did not mean to lose myself in such a way."
"You had every right to," Boromir murmured, not daring to touch Faramir for fear that he would recoil and send him away. He struggled with himself, wondering whether he should confirm every wish and adoration that Faramir had penned in his prose or whether he should hold his tongue and suppress the vague stirring in his mind and body whenever he was around him. //"It's not natural," he thought. "I shouldn't think of him in such a way."// He eyed Faramir's back, slowly moving his gaze down to the thin, drawn waistline and then to-- //"No!"// He looked away. "I still love you, Faramir. More than anything," he breathed just above a whisper as odd tingling sensations raced up and down his backbone.
"You only say that because you have to," Faramir whispered, "Because you feel sorry for me." He turned to face Boromir, the lines of his face set strong and determined. "I do not want your pity," he said firmly.
"Do not instruct me on how to feel, Faramir!" Boromir said with sudden and unintentional harshness. "I do feel sorry for you, because you're so afraid that I'll leave you one day and not look back! Well that will not happen, I assure you." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "If you are so bent on the notion that I only love you for sake of our kinship then you are seriously mistaken. Your poetry speaks louder than your own voice, louder than your tears and sobs."
He stepped forward, leaving mere inches between his and Faramir's faces. "If you only knew the way I felt when I read the first line, nay, the first *word* on that sheet of parchment, then you would not be saying this." Then he kissed Faramir, full on his trembling lips. Realizing what he had let himself do he jerked backwards a pace, face pale with horror at the act and how Faramir might react. Mouth dry, he simply gaped and stood rooted like a tree to the stone floor.
"What have I done?" Boromir choked, barely intelligible.
Eyes wide with shock, Faramir traced his lips with his fingers, still feeling the tingle that Boromir's own lips had left. "Boromir..." he mouthed, though no sound was emitted.
It clicked then that Boromir should apologize, and profusely at that, and he immediately found his voice again. "Faramir, I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you or disgust you, I couldn't help it, I--" His cheeks were burning as blood turned his face several shades of scarlet. He reached for Faramir's hand and pawed at it, trying desperately to coax a reaction from him.
Faramir's eyes flicked from Boromir's face to the hand caressing his own. "You... You did not..." he began, still stunned by what had just happened.
Realizing that nothing he said could convince Boromir of the torrent of emotions that inundated his gentle mind. Breaking free of his paralysis, he threw himself at his brother at full force, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing himself to Boromir as much as humanly possible. "I love you, Boromir!" he sounded, "I love you more than anything else in this world!"
Boromir's heart leapt with unbridled joy as he welcomed Faramir into his arms. "I love you, Faramir! I love you I love you I love you," he said over and over as his head spun with happiness; the effect of the alcohol had almost entirely worn off, whether by magic or something more tangible. He wanted to kiss Faramir again, wanted to taste him again on his lips without nerves or inhibitions hindering him. But since Faramir was securely plastered to his body, he couldn't bear to wrench himself free of the embrace. It was too perfect to let go.
"The year you were gone was the most unhappy of my life, Boromir. I thought that it would never end. I thought that you would never return, and every day you were away, I felt I died a little more." Faramir's arms tightened around Boromir's waist, surprising the older man with the strength the scrawny arms possessed.
Boromir gasped at the tight grip he was caught in, but decided to not say anything about it. He ran a finger along Faramir's cheekbone lovingly, "Die? Nay, you are too young to die," he breathed. Inside Boromir was aching: he knew that sooner or later he would be leaving again, and for how long no one knew. "I'm here, now, Faramir. There's nowhere I'd rather be."
Faramir pulled away slightly, only just enough so that he could tilt his head and look up at his brother. "I'm almost afraid to blink for fear of this being a dream from which I must wake."
Boromir's lips curled into a smile. "It is a dream, only a dream that's come true," he uttered tenderly. He chanced a quick kiss on Faramir's smooth forehead as his body seemed to burn like a where it met with Faramir's. He squirmed almost imperceptibly as he tried to mentally quell the desire radiating from deep inside of him out to the roots of his hair and the tips of his toes.
Faramir's eyes lowered in rapture as his brother pressed his lips to his forehead, his long eyelashes casting sooty shadows on his pale cheeks. "I love you, Boromir," he whispered again.
"This feels so right," Boromir sighed as he buried his nose in Faramir's hair, inhaling the sweet aroma of orchids there.
"Because it is," he breathed, exhaling in complete and utter happiness. "Will you stay with me tonight, Boromir? I do not want you to leave just yet."
Boromir didn't have to think about his response. "Yes," he blurted out, barely leaving any silence after the question had left Faramir's mouth. "Yes," he reaffirmed.
If it was at all possible, Faramir's eyes lit up more, sparkling more brilliantly than they ever had before. Giving Boromir a glimpse of his childish nature that had all but disappeared, Faramir broke away from Boromir and bounded toward the bed, shedding the formal clothing he was wearing and tossing the garments to all corners of the room. He grabbed his dressing gown and tugged it onto his head before climing into the bed, sliding under the warm blankets. He slid to one side, making enough room for Boromir to join him.
Boromir couldn't take his eyes off of Faramir's wiry body as he disrobed and hopped into bed, and a pang of worry stabbed Boromir in the chest because it was obvious enough that Faramir had taken to eating very little during his absence.
"Come on!" Faramir chirped brightly, beaming at Boromir from where he lay nestled in the blankets.
He was immediately brought back to the present situation and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I would have to leave to get changed, I fear, but I don't want to be parted with you for even one second," Boromir groaned.
"Then remove your tunic and sleep in your breeches." Faramir beamed up at Boromir; to Boromir, he was the perfect picture of sweetness and everything good. "I promise I won't mind," Faramir joked.
Grinning and checking his shyness at the door, Boromir effortlessly lifted the tunic up over his head and let it fall away into a heap in the middle of the floor, his muscles flexing in the motion and accentuating his strong chest. Kicking off his boots, he strode confidently to the bed and pulled back the coverlet. He positioned himself so that he was facing Faramir, their chests almost touching, eyes locked level with each other as they rested against the eiderdown pillows. "Hello there," he chuckled in a low, gritty voice as he grinned warmly.
"Hello," Faramir said through a yawn. He gave Boromir a lazy smile and snuggled closer to him, enjoying the heat that radiated from his brother, and the feel of his smooth, bare chest. They had slept in the same bed more times than not as they had grown up together, but somehow, to Faramir, this time felt different. He felt complete, whole, and the feeling was more intoxicating than the headiest of wines.
Boromir stretched his right arm out from underneath him and let it rest above Faramir's head on the pillow as he worried a strand of chestnut hair from Faramir's head between his thumb and forefinger. Tentatively, he snaked his other hand over to rest in the dip in Faramir's body between where the ribcage ended and the pelvis began. He felt a quiver pass through Faramir's slender form once he let his hand touch the smooth fabric of his dressing gown. "Sleep... I won't leave you," he whispered.
"I should hope not..." His eyes lowered lethargically, sleep taking his body over quickly now that he was in the comfort of his brother's arms. "It took you forever to get here..." A loving smile played across his lips as he slipped into slumber easily.
Boromir let Faramir sleep, but somehow he couldn't let himself shut his eyes. It seemed to him that a great burden had lifted from Faramir's shoulders judging by the sheer blissful contentment painted on Faramir's delicate features as he slept. Boromir thought that maybe now things would be better; Faramir wouldn't be so downcast and secretive about his feelings anymore, and maybe, just maybe he would go back to the way the old Faramir was: carefree and full of love and bubbling energy... and not so... so... *emaciated*.
Boromir ran his hand along the contour of Faramir's side, following every groove in his brother's ribcage with his fingers. He looked again at Faramir's sleeping face. Pressing his lips to Faramir's forehead in a ghosting kiss, Boromir purred softly "Sleep well, Faramir."
He turned his body slightly and snuffed out the candle that sat flickering on the table next to Faramir's bed before settling down for the night.
Faintly, as sleep finally descended upon him, Boromir could hear the sounds of merrymaking in honor of his homecoming cutting through the still night. "I couldn't ask for a better thing to come home to," he murmured softly before letting his eyelids droop and close, the last thing he saw being Faramir's face.
