Faramir Fiction Archive

The Secret Widower (NC-17)

Written by Nissi

06 September 2006 | 17983 words

Chapter 6: Night of Love, Night of Promise

They set up camp in near darkness, feeling around for objects not easily seen. The presence of fallen branches hither and yon allowed Boromir to quickly gather wood for a fire. Soon they were resting in the warmth and glow of firelight, basking in their pride at having cooperatively accomplished the feat of arriving at and setting camp in foreign territory within the cycle of a single day.

“You were right,” Boromir smiled tenderly. “This is a unique place, a place I’m glad to have seen. I look forward to exploring in daylight. From what I could see there is an impressive array of ruins. Did you see the size of some of those statues?” he whistled appreciatively.

Faramir grinned, prodding the fire with a stick. “Our ancestors were industrious in these parts. Everywhere, really.” He paused to ponder. “I sometimes think historical men of Gondor had absolutely nothing better to do than build statues, stairs, and walls all over the country. You can scarcely travel a day in Ithilien without encountering fallen columns, at the very least.”

“I noticed,” Boromir nodded. “I suppose that’s what happens when Sauron’s subdued and centuries of peace ensue. The kings and stewards had to keep our people busy somehow,” he grinned.

“Perhaps it was not so bad a task. Better than watching impotently as Sauron gathers strength, and barely holding our own against his slow but steady advances,” Faramir frowned.

Boromir reached out and brushed the back of his hand against Faramir’s cheek. “My lovely one. We will live to see peace. We will yet have time to take chisels to stone and carve out puzzling elements of architecture,” he said playfully in an effort to cheer his little brother.

Faramir laughed softly. “I hope that is not the extent of what we shall do with our time,” he winked in response. His hand drifted to rest upon Boromir’s thigh. He could feel the dampness of his clothing from his wade in the lake, blending with the night air in a deeply chilled combination. “Boromir, you’re freezing!” he exclaimed.

Boromir looked down at his sopping wet cloak and water-darkened leathers. “I suppose I am,” he replied. “I’m certainly very wet.”

Faramir pulled the blankets from their bed rolls. “Come on. Clothes off,” he ordered.

Boromir liked the turn of events. Any opportunity to be naked with his newfound lover was welcomed. He acquiesced, swiftly peeling his layers of clothing and armor away until he stood nude before his adoring brother. Faramir wrapped Boromir in the blankets before the older man had a chance to feel the cold. The younger man guided Boromir to sit before the fire once more, and rubbed his arms and legs briskly through the wool.

“Don’t fuss,” Boromir grinned. He loved the attention but felt obliged to protest. “Besides, you’ll chafe me raw.”

“What, a leathered old man like you? You’ll survive,” Faramir teased as he withdrew his hands. “Besides,” he grew serious. “I want to take care of you. As a leader, you’re always looking after others. As you’ve looked after me my entire life. I want to return the favor, tenfold. A hundredfold, even.”

Boromir smiled brightly. “You have always cared for me, Faramir. You are always there when I need you, when I come to you for comfort, or love…your warm arms…your warm bed…I think I wanted you even then, from first I felt sexual impulses. You were so beautiful and so giving…” Boromir confessed, sliding closer to his brother. “You still are.”

Faramir felt his cock stir at the admission. The idea that Boromir wanted him for so long gave him a sense of desirability he had never felt. He had never felt he possessed a sexual magnetism. But now his brother had confessed that his newly expressed desire was a long-lasting phenomenon, and the thought aroused him greatly. He leaned towards the older man.

“Let me see you naked once more. Please?” Boromir pleaded to his little brother.

Faramir smiled softly, pausing but not protesting. He stood and stripped himself of his clothing until he wore only his laced leather breeches. He could not understand the ease with which he presented himself bare to his brother, but he noticed the absence of hesitation or shame the night before. He only felt that it was right, somehow, to be without cover or pretense, fully vulnerable in the sight of one he trusted beyond all others.

Boromir rose up, kneeling in front of Faramir, the blankets falling haphazardly from his form. His hands moved to help Faramir in removing his pants, undoing the laces slowly, teasingly. He gazed up at his brother’s stunning face as the breeches were lowered to his ankles, allowing him to kick them off.

Boromir appraised his brother’s figure as he had the night of the feast. “You are breathtaking,” he whispered. Faramir’s cock swelled at the attention and the presence of his brother so tantalizingly close.

“You smell so sweet,” Boromir continued to praise, inhaling the natural scent of his brother. “Like wild herbs and fresh grass.”

Faramir’s cheeks colored with blush at the evaluation, but he was absolutely mesmerized by his brother’s words. His smooth voice crooned each word and held Faramir captive. Unaccustomed as he was to these sort of compliments, he found himself captive to their power.

“Your skin is so silky, so soft,” Boromir marveled as his lightly calloused fingertips slid down Faramir’s sides and over his hips. Faramir shivered.

“Are you cold, my love?” Boromir queried.

“No,” Faramir replied. “I only tremble with desire.”

“Then let me explore you further,” Boromir said sexily. “Let me discover your taste…”

Before Faramir could respond Boromir’s tongue found the sensitive tip of his cock and played small circles against the smooth pink skin. He moaned as it slid into his small slit, teasing and tasting thoroughly. His hands naturally fell on either side of Boromir’s head, fingers tangling with the golden threads of his brother’s hair.

Soon Boromir took Faramir’s cock in his mouth and moved his head upon it, reveling in the warmth and taste of his skin, mingling with the precum that periodically spilled from the tip. Faramir had not been orally pleasured in many years, as he always felt awkward in asking women to perform the act upon him. He considered it to be as intimate as intercourse. He’d nearly forgotten the bliss of it, and as he pumped his hips gently in time to Boromir’s movements, he realized that he was quickly losing control.

“Boromir…wait…I’ll unleash,” he gasped.

Boromir released Faramir’s cock and questioned, “Why should I stop? Why should you withhold your release?”

Faramir frowned, “I will lose control in your mouth,” he blushed. The few times he had been in this situation with women they had made him shy about the concept, as they pulled their mouths away at the last moment and used their hands alone.

Boromir looked incredulous. “And why shouldn’t you?”

Faramir looked stunned. “I’ve never…I mean…no-one has, I thought perhaps it was awful, somehow,” he stammered. For a man of thirty, he seemed very young in ways of pleasure.

Boromir laughed lovingly. “Just because the lower-level whores in the White City won’t permit it doesn’t mean it’s wrong. On the contrary. I would like few things more than to taste your pleasure.” Resolutely he engulfed Faramir’s cock once more and resumed the pace and intensity.

Faramir groaned as he swiftly reached the edge. He pulled Boromir’s hair tightly and his knees nearly buckled. Boromir steadied Faramir by his hips and worked tirelessly to achieve his prize: his lover’s orgasm.

The younger man whimpered as his climax washed over him, nearly drowning him in the incredible sensation. “Eru, Boromir…” he whined and bit his lip so hard he drew blood as he felt Boromir’s mouth massage his throbbing cock with each swallow. The entire idea that his brother was swallowing his seed was mind-blowing to him.

When his orgasm subsided Boromir helped Faramir down to the ground, deftly spreading one blanket upon the ground to allow him to lie without the prickle of the forest floor against his precious skin. “See?” Boromir grinned. “Not awful. Not at all, little one…you’re delicious,” he growled.

“And you are wicked to say such things, to do such things. You’ve learned these tricks with the men in the field?” Faramir queried breathlessly, smiling broadly.

“In a manner of speaking. I have never swallowed the offering of another man. But many have swallowed mine. Young soldiers, eager to please their Captain. You, my darling brother, were the first to witness my submission in such a way,” Boromir admitted. “And my only. I would never give of myself to another the way I want to give myself to you, wholly. You are the only one who can see me…soft. Fragile,” Boromir said as he stretched out beside Faramir, stroking his brother’s chest lovingly. One hand rose to wipe the trickle of blood from Faramir’s chin. His brother had given himself a hefty bite.

“I feel privileged to have experienced it, and that you continue to trust me with your full self,” Faramir beamed.

Boromir lifted his lips to meet Faramir’s and kissed him deeply, pressing his tongue into his little brother’s mouth and leaving no recess untouched or untasted.

When Boromir released him from the kiss Faramir whispered, “I can taste…”

“Yourself. I know, little one,” Boromir purred, taking him in another passionate kiss. He rolled atop Faramir and pinned his little brother to the ground. “I love you, Faramir,” he moaned as his hard cock settled against Faramir’s thigh.

“I love you, Boromir,” Faramir responded.

“Will you give of yourself freely?” Boromir questioned.

Faramir tilted his head curiously. “To you? I would give you anything,” he replied, not entirely sure what the question meant.

“Will you give me your body?” Boromir countered, eyebrow arched.

“You mean…?” Faramir licked his lips nervously.

Boromir nodded. “Let me enter you. Let me possess you, little brother.”

Faramir’s eyes widened at the thought. He’d never dreamed of Boromir taking him. But in a flash he recalled the way he felt the night of the feast, as he observed his brother amidst his admirers. “Boromir…” he began, recounting. “The night of the feast I was watching you amidst the crowd, receiving your praise…and I had a strange feeling. I watched them cling to you as their hero, their savior, and I knew that try as any of them may, they would never truly have you. That you belonged to me. I thought…you belonged to me.”

Boromir couldn’t sense where Faramir was going with his story, but nodded in assent. “I do belong to you, Faramir. You and you alone.”

Faramir continued, “And then I felt so…possessive of you. Unusually so. It wasn’t as if I wanted to swat them away and keep you to myself. It was as though I wanted to pull you to me, pull you into me. I thought if there was a way for me to swallow you up, I would.”

Boromir’s face lit with understanding. “There is a way, little one. Pull me inside you, and we will be in perfect union.”

Faramir’s mouth went terribly dry. He swallowed hard. “Is it difficult? I mean…I’m a grown man, I can manage…”

“You can manage,” Boromir agreed. “I have been told by those I’ve taken that it hurts at first but I will be gentle, Faramir. I will make it as painless as possible, and then I will be within you. I will possess you…and you will possess me.”

Faramir nodded swiftly. “I want it. Take me, Boromir,” he said hurriedly.

Boromir chuckled. “Easy, little brother. There is no rush. I want you, but not at the expense of your comfort. One moment…” Boromir excused himself to rummage through Faramir’s pack for the cooking oil the younger man had used that morning. He coated his cock and fingers thoroughly in preparation. Faramir watched with both fascination and apprehension clearly displayed upon his face.

“Relax, my love,” Boromir cooed as he nudged Faramir’s thighs apart and pressed his middle finger to his virgin hole. Faramir shuddered at the foreign touch. “Breathe.”

Faramir took a deep breath, willing himself to calm. He looked up at the spindly canopy of branches and the twinkling stars overhead. Angling his head, he could just see the tip of the Hill of Sight piercing the moonlight. He engrossed himself in the natural beauty he so adored as Boromir slid his finger slowly inside of him. It was uncomfortable, and he winced at the unpleasant sensation. Faramir had a moment of panic when he reasoned through the comparison between the finger within him and the cock that was to follow.

Feeling Faramir tense, Boromir cooed soothing words. Faramir turned his attention back to the night sky, counting the constellations above. He noted the Two Brothers, ever his favorite, and smiled beautifully just as Boromir’s finger curled and found Faramir’s prostate, sending a shockwave of pleasure through the younger man.

Faramir arched his back and cried out. Boromir grinned devilishly. “I found it,” he whispered.

“What is it?” Faramir panted.

“Magic,” Boromir replied playfully, rubbing the spot again.

“You are a formidable wizard,” Faramir laughed breathlessly.

“Mithrandir wouldn’t stand a chance,” Boromir teased. He seized the lightheartedness of the moment to slide a second finger into his brother, hoping the joking would distract Faramir from any pain.

Faramir grunted and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know…” he began, forcing himself to think of something other than the invasion occurring. “…he has that staff.”

Boromir chuckled heartily. “Now who’s wicked?”

Faramir grinned and shifted his hips, feeling himself adjust to the stretch. He sighed, relaxing and giving himself over to the experience.

“Feeling better?” Boromir questioned tenderly.

Faramir nodded. “I’m growing accustomed to it…” He lifted his arms over his head and placed his hands against the ground, gathering fists full of leaves, twigs, and earth. Boromir’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of his brother stretched out in such a way, as if pinning himself to the hill. He moved more insistently to ready his brother, his cock aching as his need became nearly unbearable.

Boromir slid a third finger inside his brother, and the younger man tried to strangle a pained moan. The stretch of three fingers was acute. But Faramir was grateful for his brother’s careful preparation. He had heard rare nightmarish stories of men who were taken against their will, raped by fellow soldiers who had been driven half-mad by the desperation of war. He had been told how they were left damaged beyond usefulness, broken and bleeding and counted among the wounded. Faramir knew that Boromir would never treat him that way. He trusted Boromir would never hurt him intentionally, and would make good on his promise to go out of his way to avoid unintentional pain, as well.

When he had prepared Faramir as thoroughly as his fingers would allow Boromir withdrew them. Faramir whimpered for the sudden emptiness. It was a strange feeling, to be one moment full and the next not.

Boromir said raggedly, “It is time, little brother.”

Faramir nodded, clutching the contents of his hands with all his strength as Boromir guided his cock between his cheeks and pressed the tip to the younger man’s entrance.

“If you hurt greatly, I will stop,” Boromir assured him.

“I want to feel you,” Faramir replied. Boromir nodded and pressed forward.

His cock was very slick and he began to slip into Faramir’s heat and virgin tightness with less effort than he had calculated. Faramir squirmed as he felt Boromir’s thick cockhead start to breach him. He trained his eyes on the Two Brothers, using the stars to ground him, to remind him that despite the searing pain, he was joined to his brother. He was sharing the ultimate in intimacy with his beloved Boromir. Just as Boromir had expressed: they were engaging in the act of mutually possessing each other.

Boromir reined in his passion, pushing forward a short distance and then withdrawing, then pushing forward a distance more and repeating the process until he was planted halfway within his little brother. “Are you well, Faramir?” he asked, concerned.

Faramir smiled beautifully, lowering his eyes to meet his brother’s. “I am well, love. It is new…but it is you…you are inside of me. In this moment, that is all that matters.”

Boromir was spurred by Faramir’s sentiment. He moved himself until he was buried to the hilt, groaning as Faramir writhed subtly beneath him, growing accustomed to the stretch. Before long he was overwhelmed with the need to thrust and began to slowly, gently fuck his brother.

Faramir wrapped his legs around his brother’s hips and encouraged him to take his pleasure. For his part, Faramir felt something at which his chaste encounters with Boromir had only hinted. He felt completeness.

“Ohh…Faramir,” Boromir moaned as he quickened, making love to the younger man in earnest. “I would never have dared to dream this.”

Faramir released the contents of his fists and encircled Boromir in his arms, his soiled hands caressing earthen streaks across the older man’s perspiring back. “It is more than I could have imagined,” he replied, engaging his hips to meet Boromir’s downward strokes.

“I’ll not last long,” the older man gasped with regret.

“Have no worry,” Faramir smiled warmly. He lifted his lips to his big brother’s ear and whispered, “It is but the first of many couplings, my beloved. I will give myself to you until we are old and tired and satisfied beyond such desires.”

“I will never tire of you, Faramir. I will never have enough,” Boromir growled and captured his little brother’s mouth in a bruising kiss. As Faramir’s tongue conquered his and slid between his lips he relinquished control. His groans were muffled by the kiss while he came, filling his brother. Faramir whimpered as he felt the heat within. He thought it such a curious sensation.

When spent, Boromir collapsed atop the younger man, remaining sheathed within him. “Little brother,” he panted. “You feel…” his voice trailed off.

“Hmm?” Faramir nuzzled his brother. “How do I feel?” he asked softly, curiously.

“I am at a loss to conjure the proper words. To say you feel ‘heavenly’ does not do you justice,” Boromir smiled genuinely. He rolled onto his side, pulling Faramir up and into his embrace. He wished he could remain inside Faramir forever.

The two rested, stroking each other’s faces and sharing a meaningful gaze. At length Boromir sighed softly and whispered, “Marry me.”

Faramir arched his brow. He wasn’t sure he’d heard his brother correctly. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘marry me’,” Boromir repeated. “Last night you told me elves proclaim themselves married, and that it is possible for two male elves to wed in such a way…”

Faramir could not wrap his mind around the statement Boromir had made. He thought his brother might have jested and quipped with a cheeky grin, “Perhaps you have been too long fighting and feasting and fornicating to have noticed that we aren’t actually elves.”

When Boromir frowned Faramir’s eyes widened. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m serious. Why shouldn’t I be? Why shouldn’t I wish to marry the man I love, and have loved for so long?” There was hurt in Boromir’s voice. It surprised even him. While he had mused on male marriage when he questioned Faramir the previous night, he had hardly thought it a genuine desire.

“Boromir, forgive me,” Faramir apologized, kissing his brother’s brow. “I misread your intent. It’s just…it’s not traditional.”

“And it will never be traditional for us. We’ll never wed in the great hall, with a thousand well-wishers toasting to our love. But I love you no less, Faramir, and if it could be…if I could arrive at Minas Tirith with you on my arm and declare you my spouse before all our people I would, without hesitation. I love you, Faramir,” Boromir’s voice broke with emotion. “I swear that right here, right now, I would marry you. I would take you as my husband and be yours, forever.”

Faramir looked stunned. Boromir was a passionate man, but the romantic side of him was still new to the younger man. As a gentle, romantic soul himself, Faramir was deeply touched. Tears pricked at his eyes. “Boromir,” he began, his voice little more than a thin croak. “I don’t know what to say.” He paused briefly. “Except that I would proudly be your spouse, and count myself blessed to have you as mine.”

“Then marry me, Faramir. Promise me as you did last night, but do so knowing it is an eternal vow that will tie us together as no two brothers have ever been bound. Promise me you will love me forever, forsaking all others, in whatever times may come, to whatever end,” Boromir searched his brother’s eyes.

Faramir’s lips curled into an angelic smile. “I promise that I will love you forever, Boromir, son of Denethor. I promise that I will bind myself to you, forsaking all others. I promise that I will do so in whatever times may come, whatever fate has planned, and to whatever end,” he said in a thoroughly heartfelt manner, a tear spilling from the corner of his eye and trickling slowly to the ground.

Boromir exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for an age. “And I, Boromir, swear to you, Faramir, son of Denethor, that I will love you forever, forsaking all others. To that I promise I will hold true,” he smiled tenderly. He did not forget that he faltered when Faramir questioned his fidelity the night before. “I will love you and stand by you in whatever times may come and to whatever end.” Tears threatened to escape from his own eyes.

“Then we are wed,” Faramir proclaimed, smiling broadly.

“We are wed. Come what may, little one. I am yours and you are mine,” Boromir cooed. “Now kiss me, my husband, and let us seal our vows.”

Faramir’s lips swiftly met his brother’s and the two kissed with passion neither knew he possessed. They kissed until they were dizzy from lack of air and the raw intensity of the act.

As the kiss broke Boromir reluctantly slipped from his brother’s body. Faramir groaned. “I miss you within me already,” he admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Tis not every couple whose vows are made in sexual union. Don’t let’s be greedy,” Boromir grinned, kissing the tip of Faramir’s nose. “We must let your body rest.”

Faramir sighed, glancing upwards. He nodded towards the sky. “See that star, the one with the distinctly red hue?”

Boromir looked up and nodded. “Aye, I see it.”

“That is the join of the Two Brothers—one star shared between the two halves. It is my favorite pattern in the sky. I have always looked at it and thought of you. When you’re away I look to the Two Brothers and take comfort in knowing that wherever you are, at any time, the same stars shine over your head. That red star…that is us. That is our promise,” Faramir stated eloquently.

“That is our promise,” Boromir echoed, whispering. He closed his eyes as his own tears began to fall.

Until wearied to sheer exhaustion the two brothers held tightly, clinging to each other and their newly-made marriage vows. They cried in unison—tears of joy, of love, of uncertainty for the future, and of sadness for the past. They wetted the earth beneath the watchful eye of the ancient Gondorian statues gathered near the base of Amon Hen.

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

Enjoyed this story? Then be sure to let the author know by posting a comment at https://www.faramirfiction.com/fiction/the-secret-widower. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!