but don't make me your enemy

[eyefire]

( from here. )


[ Adar is left alone for a night. Sauron finds him in the obsidian hallways of the palace, the parts he is allowed to frequent as a captain, standing at the end of a corridor when Adar turns. His robes are dark, simmering with a soft burn at the ends of his robes, and his eyes are the only light of any worth, fixed on his uruk. ]

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[callmeadar]

[Mairon is known to him but it has always been such forbidden fruit, even when he saw it was not Sauron who pulled him close or enjoyed the innocent, simple things they sometimes shared. One did not use names they were not given leave to, no matter how well they were known in legend. No matter how they tasted when he imagined them rolling off his lips.

He hates calling him Sauron when they are like this, he usually lingers on whatever sweet nothing or title he can grasp. So when his words curl against his skin, Adar almost feels as though he had left his body even as he is kept so very aware of it.]

Mairon, [he repeats, eager to know if it sounds as good as he imagines to say it.] Mairon. [He moans, teetering on the edge of release.] I love you Mairon. [The admirable, the adored, Adar turns his head to chase his lips, wanting more than anything to be as joined with him as he knows how in this moment.]

[eyefire]

Mmmm, my elf ...

[ His very own, carved from weakness and made so strong, so durable. He strokes Adar's cock where it smears precome over Sauron's midriff and twists little corkscrews with his slick palm over the crown, the swollen flesh there so soft and needy that he can't imagine why he was mad at him to begin with. Adar is so wanton and clearly his, his elf-uruk will never find this kind of satisfaction in the arms of anyone else, never while riding another lover.

Bucking hard, close to coming, Sauron rests their foreheads together and looks at him with all his power turned on perceiving Adar, peering through meat and bone to the spirit trapped within where he speaks to him. I See you. I See your mind. All the fury and love, the lust, wrapped up inexorably together in a knot. Sauron jerks him off faster, cock battering that prostate. You are mine, forever. My love. ]

[callmeadar]

Yours, [he agrees. There is no hesitation in him today, nothing surface level about the wanton way he presses not just his body but everything that makes Adar, that once was Arvarno, a softer and higher creature untouched by his hands. His love and desire for him goes so deeply it is as much a part of him as the light of the trees was. It was hard to imagine why this love so often turned sour.

Why Adar hangs on and does not let himself topple over into pleasure yet he does not know. Perhaps it is greed, the desire to have more of his lovers time, to continue to feel his cock sinking so far and hard into his body that he knows he will feel it for the rest of the day, maybe even tomorrow. He has it under control, until he doesn't. Until what should terrify him happens but instead makes him shivver and whimper Mairon so softly it could be from his lips or thought alone, bared to his lover like a book left open on a table.

You are mine, forever. drags him over the edge whether he wills it or not, no longer able to wait. It is hot and messy between their bodies, over his master's hand as he comes, his body clenching around that delightfully hard cock as he moans his name again and again until he unable to even coherently say Mairon or any kind of sweet nothing, the wind entirely knocked out of him.]

[eyefire]

[ Sauron's pleasure is tangled up in Adar's as per usual these days, he only wants to come when his lover is spilling a mess all over them and repays him in kind with hard thrusts, marking and claiming him as no other elf or orc will ever mistake. They will smell Sauron on Adar like honey on a bee, a part of his very essence and reason for existing.

He fucks him through that orgasm with relentless, pounding force, cradling him in his arms so that Adar can shiver and bounce on his cock as long as he needs to settle the craving knotted deep in his loins, a weight he will never be long without. Each sweet kiss Sauron bestows is a murmur of praise, breathless with release, and he sinks back into the bedding with Adar hugged close as he starts to doze while still buried inside.

Perfect, his not-husband. ]

[callmeadar]

[By the time they settle back in the sheets, Adar is a trembling mess who has no will to speak or do anything really but nuzzle close to his lover, pressing soft kisses against his throat of praise that his own tongue feels too heavy to say aloud. He will understand. On some level, he always does.

He doesn't try to separate their bodies, either. He will take any extra ache that staying like this as long as Mairon wishes will cause and do so gladly. This is as much at home as he has felt since he said goodbye to his sister.

Eventually, Adar rests his head against his lover's chest where he can hear his heartbeat and lets himself drift, tired and aching and cosy here where no one ought to feel like that. When he dreams there is nothing but sweetness and heat, all aches and fears washed away by the connection they had rekindled.]