While You Sleep

Title: While You Sleep

Author: Maggie Honeybite

Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor

Rating: NC-17

Warning: m/m slash

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor do I make any profit from them. Any writing I do is done with a deep respect for Tolkien and out of an abiding love for his Elves.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to Tehta, for her help in editing this story.

Summary: Erestor wants to sleep; Glorfindel has other ideas. Short PWP.

Notes: This PWP fits into the "Sweetness and Gall" story arc.

[This lovely picture was drawn by the talented Nellas of Doriath. Her work can be found at http://www.hithanaur.net/nellas/]

Glorfindel lay on his side, contemplating the sleeping Elf beside him. Although Anor had risen in the sky and the Last Homely House was beginning to stir, Erestor was still deep in slumber. It may have had something to do with the fact that the Mirkwood delegation had just left Imladris after nearly a week of gruelling negotiations. The proud wood Elves, like their haughty king, were difficult to please but had to be indulged if relations between the two realms were to remain cordial. And Erestor, as Elrond's chief advisor, was the one responsible for ensuring that no toes were stepped on and no rash statements were made. He had risen to the challenge, as always, and his sharp mind and cool demeanour had stood him in good stead throughout the entire ordeal. But the long week had taken its toll, and he now slept, weary from the burden of office he had shouldered so well.

Glorfindel looked at his lover, stretched out on his stomach in the wide bed, and smiled. He liked Erestor this way, the way he looked when asleep, the way no one else ever saw him. This was not the artful politician capable of disarming incensed opponents with a well-placed phrase. Nor was it the black-clad silent figure ever present at Elrond's side, forever listening and assessing the situation. Nay, that Elf's features were always schooled in a mask of carefully maintained indifference, watchful circumspection. This Elf –- the Elf softly breathing beside him –- was unguarded and serene, and looked trusting in his stillness. Lying there with black hair falling into his eyes, his cheek slightly creased from the soft pillow, Erestor appeared youthful, almost innocent.

He was also beautiful. The high cheekbones, pale skin, well-formed body –- Glorfindel took it all in and felt his desire stir. The light sheet, carelessly draped over them both, covered little and left the lovely advisor's body bare, open to Glorfindel's gaze. Glorfindel felt a lump in his throat at the thought of how vulnerable his lover looked in his sleep; the iron-willed counsellor now all softness and curves. The line of his back, the bend of an elbow, the arch of a narrow foot –- they all made Glorfindel want to reach his hand out and touch the loveliness spread out before him.

And touch he did. Lightly at first, so as not to wake his sleeping lover, Glorfindel let his fingers explore the planes of the other's body, softly yielding and still warm from sleep. His hands mapped out the strength of muscle, brushed the sharp contour of spine and lingered on the curve of his buttocks –- amazed that an Elf who was known for his abrasiveness could be so velvety to the touch. The delicate paleness of the two round globes under his fingertips brought a smile of amusement to Glorfindel's lips. If those who faced the fearsome Erestor across the negotiating table ever found out his bottom was as soft as the down of newly hatched ducklings they would never quake under his intimidating stare again.

An impatient hand rose from the rumpled sheet and swatted Glorfindel's arm as if it were a pesky fly.

"...sleep..." Erestor murmured, his eyes still unfocused, then burrowed deeper into his pillow.

"Shh, love," murmured Glorfindel into a pointy ear, "I won't disturb your rest. Let my hands soothe you. See? Gentle hands..." And, with that, he began to trace slow circles across the other's skin, barely brushing it with his palms. Gradually, as Erestor relaxed and fell back into reverie, Glorfindel increased the pressure of his touch, massaging the pale flesh more firmly. The exhausted advisor did not stir.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Glorfindel quietly reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a small bottle of oil. Coating his palms, he resumed his ministrations, gradually letting his hands wander to the cleft between Erestor's parted thighs. At first his touch was hesitant, then, more purposeful, as his questing fingers found, to their delight, that Erestor truly was relaxed in his slumber. The advisor's unguarded opening yielded easily under patient pressure, and Glorfindel's fingers gently slipped within.

He took care to move his digits slowly, not wanting to overwhelm with sensation, but trying rather to soothe the sleeping Elf into readiness. Unhurriedly he probed, while tracing calming circles in the small of Erestor's back. Finally, satisfied that his lulled partner was indeed prepared, he slicked his erection and gently, ever so carefully, penetrated.

Fully sheathed, he stilled, and leaned over his lover, resting his forearms on both sides of the sleeping one's back. Erestor shifted slightly, half-aware that he was now quite securely pinned to the bed, and mumbled something incoherent. «He must be more worn out than I realized,» thought Glorfindel, placing an affectionate kiss on the dark, tangled mane beneath him. Then, careful not to startle his lover into too-sudden awareness, he began to move.

He pressed forward steadily, every shift of his hips measured and slow. Leisurely he explored Erestor's taut passage, relishing the heat surrounding him, enjoying the closeness of the other's warm back against his chest. Closing his eyes, he lost himself to a gentle, even rhythm, stroking rather than thrusting, caressing his sleeping lover from within.

Gradually, he felt Erestor stir, shifting in the tangled sheets and instinctively arching his back to meet the tender intrusion. The sleepy advisor's eyelashes fluttered and his dark eyes regained their focus. Half smiling, he turned his head to look at the powerful Elf claiming him.

"Rake," he whispered, "I'm awake now. I suppose you're happy?"

"Good morning, love." Glorfindel nipped the tip of his lover's ear. "Yes, waking you was my intention."

"Couldn't let me sleep, could you?"

"Not when there were more delicious things to be done, no." Glorfindel slightly increased his momentum. "I couldn't resist you, lying there in all your glory. So open, so trusting. All mine."

"You are a wicked Elf, Glorfindel," Erestor said, his eyes closed once again and his breathing becoming shallow.

"I am?"

"I was right not to trust you when you first pursued me." The advisor arched his back some more, moving in time with his lover now. "You're sneaky. Always trying to catch me unguarded. Wanting to breach... my defences." His voice hitched in his throat and he released his breath with a hiss.

"I can stop..." Glorfindel's tone was teasing.

"No –- please; keep on... breaching."

Glorfindel stifled a quiet laugh and applied himself to his task in earnest. Still gentle and steady, he now rocked with more force, determined to bring them both toward a shared climax. Erestor rose up to meet him, giving as much as he took, surrendering his body completely to his lover's attentions.

Both Elves were quiet now, intent on pursuing the course that Glorfindel had set. They strove in tandem, breathing slowly becoming ragged, grace giving way to more feverish movements. The quiet of the bedchamber was disturbed only by the soft creak of the bed and the occasional quiet whimper. When orgasm finally claimed them they did not cry out, but let pleasure wash over them in silence, Glorfindel stilling his quivering thighs, buttocks tensed; Erestor burying his head in his pillow, mouth agape.

"You can go back to sleep now if you want," Glorfindel whispered into his lover's hair, hands gently stroking a narrow hip.

"...mhmm..." Erestor was already there, curled up on his side, one palm balled into a tight fist in the manner of a small child.

Smiling at the sight before him, Glorfindel nestled close to the tired Elf, vowing to guard his well-deserved rest, even from scoundrels like himself.

The End

back