A Night To Remember

A Night To Remember

Posted: January 4, 2008
Title: A Night To Remember
Author: Jay of Lasgalen
Fandom: Tolkien
Type: FCS
Characters: Elladan/Elrohir/Legolas
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s; not mine
Author’s Note: Written for Melethen’s challenge to ‘write a drabble or short fic about Elladan, Legolas and Elrohir recovering after a night of drinking and fun’.

Summary: Legolas wakes up the morning after the night before – and gets a shock. I’m sure this has been done before, but who cares?

*****

Legolas stretched, wincing as the low winter sunlight streaming through the window hit his eyes. He snuggled closer to Elrohir, still soundly asleep in his arms, and waited for the pounding in his head to subside.

What a night it had been! Despite the headache, and the slight queasiness, it had been worth it. And judging by the languid ache that still pervaded his body, more than worth it. He smiled, remembering through the haze of a rich, potent wine. No wonder Elrohir still slept so soundly – he must be exhausted. Despite their long, passionate relationship, he had never known a night like it for prolonged, fervent lovemaking. Elrohir had seemed to be everywhere, his mouth and hands kissing and caressing every inch at once, demanding, relentless, and totally insatiable.

It had been amazing.

Smiling again, he kissed Elrohir’s neck and buried his face in his hair, breathing in his unique, musky scent. Then he frowned, drawing back a little.

Something was wrong.

Cautiously he brushed back the curtain of dark hair that covered Elrohir’s face, then froze in horror.

“Elladan?”

Elladan stirred against him, opening his eyes slowly, and smiled back. “Legolas. Good morning. I trust you slept well?” His smile turned lecherous. “Eventually, that is?”

Panic-stricken, Legolas sat up, pushing Elladan away from him. “Elladan! How – what – oh Valar, how could we?” He buried his face in his hands in despair, feeling sick. Oh, Gods. What had he done?

Behind him, there was a low, muttering grumble. “Legolas. For pity’s sake, keep still! My head …”

If he had felt sick before, he now felt ten times worse. “Elrohir,” he croaked. “Please. I can explain …”

“Explain what? Stop blathering, and lie down again – you are letting the cold air in!” Elrohir wound his hand into Legolas’s hair, and pulled him back down, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. He began to respond instinctively, reacting to Elrohir’s touch and feel helplessly, yielding to the plundering kisses. Behind him, Elladan’s lips, alike yet so unalike, began to explore the back of his neck again, raising goosebumps of tingling skin, and four hands caressed him eagerly.

Slowly memory returned. Midwinter, and far too much wine shared with the twins, and his own unexpected plea as Elladan eventually rose to leave them for the night: “Must you go? Stay with us …”

There had been a moment of stunned surprise, of wordless communication, and then eager agreement. There had been two mouths, two tongues; kissing and licking every inch of his burning skin. Two pairs of hands stroking and caressing him into desperate need; two of everything – possessing him and taking him relentlessly, repeatedly; until he sobbed out his release over and over again.

Now, once more sandwiched between the twins, he was again helpless against the dual onslaught. Renewed desire and longing rose within him, and with a sigh of pleasure he yielded yet again to the shared caresses.

This had been a night, and a Midwinter, to remember.

*****

THE END

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Jay of Lasgalen