eyefire | but don't make me your enemy

[ They will all hate Adar for the clear favour he is being shown and wait for the moment it falters, but while it lasts he will be untouchable in the fortress. He could challenge a balrog and it would not dare raise its blade or whip to him, not while Sauron is known to adore him.

He runs a hand down Adar's waist where he's soft and pretty, to a hip and a thigh and back up, skimming his chest. Kissing him all the while, Sauron hums happily as his hair is played with and he smiles against Adar's mouth, letting his pleasure and adoration pour over him in a honeyed wave. Not until lips are tingling do they part, and then only to fluster a cheek with pecks. ]

Say you love me, dear heart.

[ His palm runs over Adar's belly, covering his navel as he pets him between them. The root of his pleasure, so soft and silky-skinned. ]

I'm going to be inside you, right here ...

[Few didn't hate him already, he was too elven for Angband and too Uruk for elsewhere. Regardless, he thinks of nothing and no one outside of this room at the moment, his entire world shrunk down to the soft glimmer and heat that touched him, claimed him. Sauron could have carved his name in his now beautiful flesh and he would probably take it as a compliment because it meant he was still being touched.

He delights in how much and how specifically he can feel Sauron's teasing touches, pressing up against each one as much as he can. Adar is flushed and flustered and overflowing with desire again, even after so little time.]

I do love you, [Sauron feels wrong to call him in that moment, it is an insult even if Sauron takes it on the chin when it is used, but he dare not use anything else so he instead adds] master.

You are always inside of me. [Body, soul, anywhere he went he carried the voice of Sauron with him, knew where his hands would go–be it in love or anger–could not lose the taste of him.] Always with me. [But he wants him now, too, for those echoes of long ago felt touches to become realities again. He hooks one leg around Sauron's hip, drawing him closer if he will allow it.]

[ Darling little monster, is Adar. Sauron's carved weapon, currently basking like a pretty whore, utterly delightful in every way. Drawn down, he rubs the length of his cock over Adar's navel and belly, finds the groove of a hip to rut into ... makes sure, overall, he is letting him feel how terribly hard he has gotten his master. ]

My good boy ...

[ Testing out that, seeing if he gets a similar reaction as the last time. ]

Always do what you're told, don't you?

[The touch of silken skin that is Sauron's cock steals a little moan, but the good boy gets a firmer one and a low hum of pleasure reverberates from his chest. Whether he wants to admit it or not it is clear her likes it.

The question catches him off guard, and even as he wonders if he should lie his lips make the choice for him:] Mostly?

[ That prompts a laugh. ]

True, you do run me ragged ...

[ A far lighter way of talking about the fuss Adar created by running off than Sauron has put it since. He kisses him fondly, the line of his cock heavy against an inner thigh made soft and youthful by his personal magia. ]

It's the return that matters.

[Sauron had forced him into returning, and yet despite that, despite the unwanted goal of the evening, he somehow didn't find himself repulsed by his master but rather drawn closer. Would he have missed him if he made it into the arms of the waiting Noldor army? He wants to think not, yet his body almost sings as they kiss, his hands tangle claimingly in his hair even though Sauron will always own him and never vice versa.

A moan spills between their lips as he tries to claim more kisses, wanting nothing else, unable to think of anything else but the press of his body.]

[ How beautiful Adar is when he's a brat demanding things, moaning like that. He has no idea how pleasing it is to hear, or else Sauron would call him a seducer in his own right.

The hands tangling in his hair are welcome too, allowed to stay as he slides a hand between them to rub slick fingers (magia is wonderful) between Adar's legs, feathering their caress over his balls to find his entrance and rub there firmly, never quite sinking in at first as Sauron drinks down the noises he makes. ]

[That teasing hand makes pleasure rumble in his chest, his other leg joining the first in hooking over Sauron's hips, both keeping him as close as he can and giving him the most room to touch, to move, to claim Adar even as his hands and lips try to memorise and claim Sauron. His lips on his mouth, his jaw, sweet sounds falling without hesitation from his lips as he leans up to him so he doesn't miss a single spot on his jaw as he kisses there.]

My lord, [he moans, the unspoken please all over his tone of voice.]

Yes. I am.

[ Technically, Morgoth is, but Morgoth pays as much individual attention to his hoards as an eagle to grains of sand, so it falls to Sauron to organise the entirety of Angband's forces. To know them. He certainly understands the meaning behind Adar's plea and fills him with the smooth, hard heat of a finger, fucking him to the second-knuckle to get him loosened up and only adding a second to press in over his prostate in long rubs, watching him be taken apart as his body is worshipped.

He rumbles low, kissing along Adar's jaw now and up into his dark, lush hair by a perfect ear. ]

Do you want me, my love? Do you want to give me a child? Do you want to be mine until we become one soul?

[Morgoth was a distant shadow, a threat that loomed always... Sauron was different. Not just because of his methods, which like now often end in ways the Vala would not long consider, but there was something about him that drew others near more than he repelled them. His names meant the abhorred, terrible dread and much worse if the elves were feeling uncharitable but even if he did cause a terrible dread, it was not the normal fear that caused people to flee the battlefield. Not when you knew him, as much as anyone could know him.

His head falls back against the silk sheets when Sauron adds the second finger and strokes over his prostate, arching off the bed into him, his hips rolling to help. Like this they feel like any long-term lovers, capable of driving each other wild. Yet his words cause Adar to pause, his racing heart almost skittering to a full stop at give me a child. There was that good old terrible dread again. How was he ever going to do this, even though he could willingly give his body up to his master despite... everything?]

I–[don't know how to answer that without lying or stirring rage.]

[ He is not all evil, as some think. The evil deeds are in pursuit of order, he wants there to be something beautiful and enduring and obedient to both him and Morgoth in this world since the Valar have all but forsaken it. They clearly don't care, not unless Orome feels like racing through the wilds, which he hasn't done for long enough to have become a myth and legend in his own right. Sauron does not want the world to cease existing, only to obey him while it continues, so his madness is removed from the nihilism of his master's ... at least a little. The good estate of his subjects is something he yearns for, so that they might adore him.

He kisses Adar's hesitation off his lips, peering down as he turns his fingering shallow and slow, so that Adar can listen and look, see the sweat on his master and the intelligence in his fiery gaze. ]

I will keep it safe, [ he nuzzles in, earnest, ] I want you to help raise it.

[It would be easier if he were just evil, if the desire to curl close to him tasted false and foul. None of the elves would ever understand why the protests against Sauron always died on Adar's lips when they were alone, when Sauron drew close.

Here on his bed, their eyes locked on each other he cannot think he will ever know anything better than this. He was chosen, he was strong enough, he was favoured enough that Sauron wanted him, even if just to use him. The fingers that brush soft hair behind Sauron's ears do so with love and reverence.]

Safe-safe or [safe like him, a favoured tool that often ended up burnt by the fire. His rewards were always great, but so was his suffering.]

Do you think I would harm my own child?

[ Not directly, anyway. He expects it to be smart, to take caution seriously, all of that.

He nips his way along Adar's ear while fucking him deep with a third finger sliding in to stretch him further with a slight burn. A little faster, courting the pulse of his hips and primal desire to be fucked, whispering ... ]

I know you hate me nearly as much as you love me. I know. I S E E Y O U.

[Honestly? Yes. Anything that defied his sense of order and was not Morgoth was usually fair game to be brought low. And though he doesn't come out and say it, it is clear enough on his face for the few moments before another finger is pressed inside of him and scrambles his thoughts. He ached for him, for those fingers to be replaced with his cock, to be filled by him, to be fucked until there was nothing more he could give.]

Would you want me if my love was unconditional? [He risks asking, his voice hitched and his hips trying to squirm down against that clever hand.] Or would I just be another one of your discarded toys?

Toys? [ He tilts his chin, curious at the phrasing. ] Is that how you see me, moving toys in a pen to my own amusement? You think I discard what displeases me?

[ Kissing him with a thoughtful hum, Sauron hooks an arm under one of Adar's knees and pushes it higher, fluttery little half-touches barely fucking him as he teases that sweet spot. ]

Ah, Ránevaryar, [ I see you, ] I love those that love me.

It can feel that way. [Because whether Sauron does it intentionally or not, he is certain it is that way. Things that interest him or are useful get his doting gaze turned upon them, and when they no longer are, there is nothing but a lonely shadow, a memory of what burning brightly had felt like.

As much as he knows he is being used, he doesn't feel unwanted now, he kisses him back softly and sweetly, as open to him there as his body is to his hand. His breath comes in soft gasps, then when his mother-name is said after so many long years of its absence, the smile Sauron gets is real, if a little bewildered.] I do love you. [And that is his problem.]

[ Adar looks so good underneath him. Hearing I do love you earns a long kiss, heated and loving to let Adar feel like every inch of him is being soaked up into the maia's aura. He slips his fingers free, trailing lips down Adar's jaw. ]

You are more to me than you know.

[ He leans up on a bent arm to watch Adar's face as he guides his cock into him, one long press without pause, forcing his tight hole open around the hot length sinking in, in, in. Sauron catches his breath once fully seated, letting the effect Adar has over him be seen and tasted with another kiss, this time sweet and light, holding himself still where he pins him to the black sheets. ]

[Even after all these years, surrendering to his master, to a being who could turn him inside out if he wished too, didn't come naturally... yet it did come, almost every time, his lips craved Saurons, his body sang for him, his fëa reached ever for the warmth that was so often offered to him when his master was pleased with him.

There was nothing in the wide, vast world like being the focus of his attention.

He wants to say that much I could believe but he also wants to say nothing as the maia's lips leave a trail of damp heat down his jaw as he tilts his head to give him as much room to roam as is physically possible.

Adar's eyes are half open, watching Sauron, admiring him when he finally feels the press of Sauron's cock at his entrance and then within him, filling him until he almost feels he cannot take anymore. His breath hitches, his body aching with the almost forgotten feeling, his nails catching at Sauron's back, keeping the maia close like he would a more elvish, containable lover. As their lips meet again Adar moans, wanting it to be deeper, more, but unable to follow his mouth far if he doesn't allow it. His cock leaks, hard and aching and unattended by the both of them and he doesn't even care.]

You feel so good inside of me, [he manages to mumble out, flushed darkly from the thick desire in his voice and by how true it is and how much he means it. It is humiliating and hot and true all at once.]

[ He was not always evil, is not even all evil right now having done evil deeds aplenty, so when he gathers Adar up with an arm around him and starts to make love to him it is not without knowing the memory of what that felt like. Clasping a thigh to keep it bent high about his waist as he moves, he scores there on milky flesh with his nails from passion alone, not hatred or punishment, and when he drives into Adar with purpose it's to seek his lover's pleasure. Whispers of Mine and Beautiful mingle with Adar's silky hair by his pretty ears, the hard heat of Sauron fucking him to a steady heartbeat they share and if he could get him withchild like this the effort would be sincere (for all the edging he teases him with).

Most he loves to mouth his way over a pulse in an elegant throat and graze his teeth along a jaw, tasting the way Adar tips his head and moans, scratching at the maia's back in turn. ]

My little flame, my own one.

[It's a trick he should think, because he knows Sauron about as well as anyone ever could without being a maiar or Morgoth. Yet, there, in that moment, as they move together, it feels real. It feels more loving and true than any touch he's had in long centuries. He enjoys the scrape of nails over his now pristine flesh, the dark pink lines Sauron leaves in his wake. He all but purrs at the compliments that are woven into their lovemaking, appreciation pouring from his lips in soft sighs, broken moans, little whimpers of Sauron, master, please and a dozen other sweet nothings that murmur into the warm air above the bed.

It is almost like they are one being, like Adar could slip his skin as easily as the maia and be one with him. He cannot, but it feels like he might, like he could.] Please. [Please, please, please. He wants him, he cannot say or understand how much just that he does. Every fibre of his being sings of it as his hips rise to meet his masters, wanting to be filled by his cock as much as he wanted to stay in this warmth forever. For the moment, he couldn't remember why he had ever run. Nothing exists beyond Sauron, and he forgets anything ever had.]

[ Yes, love, and I know are cooed over and again, until Adar is a shuddering mess and his cock is sticky between them. Only then does Sauron rear back a little to start fucking him in earnest the way he wants, curling a loose fist around the tip of his lover's straining cock to give him sparse friction compared to how he's being filled, fast and demanding. Sauron's breath comes shorter, sweat on his brow and neck as he looks down on him approvingly, thumb rubbing the seam where his cock keeps stretching that tight ring.

Adar feels very, very good in his own right and has the lieutenant of Angband moaning as golden hair spills, head tipping back. A nail rubs over the slit of Adar's weeping cock, pressing in to open him up there too; yellow eyes alight on Adar's face, a dark teasing humour shared as he licks his lips. ]

Prettiest bitch I could ever hope to breed.

[He is well practiced in meeting his masters needs, one way or the other, but in this his control slips away and away until he is a hot, sweaty mess of desire, ruled only by the pounding cock that drives into him again and again, each time coming closer to making him see stars despite the suffocatingly thick ceiling that hangs far above them. Every feeling is heightened, his body arches and strains to help his master, his lover find the perfect angle for both of them.

soclosesoclosesoclose echoes in his head and maybe on his lips, certainly it can be felt every movement of his body, heard in every hitched breath, every desperate whimper that falls from his lips. He wants nothing but to please his master in that moment, to last for him as long as he wants.

Those words though slip into his mind, later they will haunt him but right now they feel almost right, almost good and he suddenly cannot hold himself together anymore, his seed spilling out, sticky and hot between them, his body milking the cock the drove into him again and again as he moaned for Sauron, his name on his lips, sweet and tender despite the insult of its meaning.]

[ Melkor is the most beautiful sight in existence whether flesh or not, but Adar is not to be discounted (scarred or not, they are the same difference to Sauron). As the elf comes and loses himself in it, the maia gathers him close and lets that orgasm wring out his own, a hoarse cry tucked toward his chest as he bows his head with the pleasure that curls up his spine. He fills up that tight hole with hot come, fucking Adar in languid thrusts to make sure he really is a mess, stuffed with Sauron's cock and spend until it's being worked out of him too and slicking his thighs.

Sauron tilts his lover's chin and kisses him fondly through panting breaths, a hand curled loosely around Adar's length still covered in sticky stains. ]

Little flame ...

[He has no sense left to him, yet he holds Sauron close, keeping his legs hooked over his hips and his arms looped over his back. Even after he is spent each thrust of Sauron's cock inside him drags out a ragged gasp or moan, his whole body so sensitive that it feels like he could almost come again when his masters cock is filling him, his seed searingly warm inside of him.

He whimpers.]

You are... [everything.]

[ He knows.

Bringing his hand up, he licks off Adar's seed where he can see it being consumed, the way Sauron doesn't eat it but lets it boil to nothing on his tongue where it's absorbed into his power, sucking his fingers clean. Once done, he frames Adar's head with bent arms and rests their foreheads together: it's done. There will be something as a result of this, whether Sauron can coax the flesh into a child is another matter, but he is exceedingly skilled in that area. ]

Tired, love? Need to rest?

[ His hips slowly start to retreat, taking that hard cock with them. ]

but don't make me your enemy

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