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Of course. The one time I might win...

[Putting the sword away and bowing]

What do you call a victory? Shall I let you impale me? (He holds open his arms, smirking.)

Ask me later, and you'll have all the impaling you could wish.

[And he's getting a gentle headbutt, because he did promise Father he'd be discreet about this sort of thing.

~~It's still not fooling anyone~~]

(He chokes and coughs, caught off-guard. Finno!)

Is that a promise? (Please say yes? He grins for only his mischievous cousin to see.)

[Fingon barely avoids bursting into laughter. What, that wasn't what Maedhros meant?]

Of course it is. Would I be so cruel as to offer otherwise?

(Maybe that's what he should have meant for it is far more enticing!)

I suppose it has nothing to do with your needs, hm? (Since Maedhros is currently shirtless and looking rather...heated.)

[Fingon has definitely noticed. And enjoyed the view.]

A Prince should put others’ needs ahead of his own, dearest cousin. Obviously yours should come before mine.

(He turns his head, chuckling. The urge to do a variety of less than princely things to Fingon is looming strong.)

My needs concern you? It is kind of you to notice them! Will you leave me a wreck?

[Considering the number of grandchildren in this family, are they really all that unprincely?]

Just as wrecked as you would like. And then a little more, for good measure.

(True enough! One would hope most of those were made in the privacy of a bedroom.

Maedhros pushes back his hair, grinning.)

That will certainly keep me in shape! Though the impaling might leave me walking...gingerly.

[A completely innocent blink]

You mean there's anything you don't do gingerly?

(His eyes narrow.)

A ginger joke? You are above that, Findekáno.

Now you must make it up to me.

Edited 2018-03-06 02:28 (UTC)

It was irresistible, Russandol. Like low-hanging fruit.

But as you insist...

The low-hanging fruit might be poisonous! Take a bite of it with care.

(He jerks his head, eyes sparkling. He slips his sword into its sheathe and heads to his rooms.)

If the fruit expresses a preference, of course I will bite exactly as it requests.

[And he follows, unable to keep the grin off his face.]

(He snorts, wrapping an arm around Fingon and stealing a hard kiss the moment they are safe in his rooms.)

What if the fruit wants to take a bite out of you?

[Success!]

How could I refuse such a remarkably talented fruit?

You will have your way and I will have mine. (He frees his hair from its ponytail and swiftly removes his pants. What do they need clothing for anyway?)

[They wear clothing to make sure they occasionally do things which don't involve staring at each other.

Kicking off his own trousers]

Fortunately, they seem to be the same way.

Fortune has little to do with it. (He slips off a necklace, laying it on the table beside the bed.) You are my heart's desire. No one else will do.

[Fingon laughs warmly, moving in for another kiss and to drag Maedhros to the bed.]

Ai, love. You are all I could ever want.

(Maedhros wants to respond, but that kiss is too distracting. He falls back onto the bed, pulling Fingon into the circle of his arms.)

What if you are forced to marry?

[Fingon looks up from nuzzling Maedhros' neck to give him a puzzled look.]

By who? The legion of fathers who want a circlet for their daughters?

They could end up having their say. (He arches his back, running his hands down Fingon's back.)

Edited 2018-03-06 05:37 (UTC)

Don't be ridiculous. They'd have to agree on which daughter first, and that will never happen.

[He shivers under Maedhros' touch, then reaches out to fan his cousin's hair out against the pillow]

Besides, Atar will not try to make me walk a path he knows I cannot take.

Fair point, but the possibility -

(He grips Fingon's hips - almost possessively.)

Your Atar is kinder than mine; more understanding, at least. I am grateful to him. I want you to be free so that I can marry you one day.

He has Turno to provide him with a charming brood of grandchildren, and Arko to keep him busy besides.

[No mention of Irisse, who is probably as hopeless a cause in his parents' quest for descendants as he is.]

Your father of all people should know to let others follow their hearts. Where would he be if Grandfather had pushed a 'suitable' match on him?

He should have a handsome brood. Even I look forward to seeing them.

(But he has a soft spot for all children. He would be one miserable older brother otherwise.)

Mm, love, I am not courting a lady - unless your parts have changed? - and that is where the trouble could lie.

(Trouble that is hard to pay any mind to as he kisses over Fingon's strong shoulder.)

As you should [Fingon agrees.] They will be lovely and talented and I will take great pleasure in spoiling them and sending them back to their parents when they are overexcited.

[Its behavior like this which will one day lead Turgon to run off without a note saying where he’s gone.

He laughs at that, pressing his hips so that Maedhros can feel the parts in question. ]

You should hope they aren’t. I seem to recall you asking for an impaling....

You are fully prepared to be a phenomenal Uncle, then! (He laughs throatily and rolls them, pinning his beloved to the bed. Then he smiles sweetly.) I want a very thorough impaling. I want to feel you well into the morrow.

Are you up for the challenge?

Absolutely. I have it utterly in hand, and with it my contribution to the growth of the House of Nolofinwe. I feel very accomplished.

[He rolls back, gasping with laughter. Well, isn't this a pleasant view.]

Oh, I am. Very much so, if you take my meaning.

You won't do it for your House; you will do it because those little ones deserve you.

(Even stiff princes need to be covered in Elflings once in awhile. It's therapeutic!

Maedhros presses down against him, strong thighs straddling him.)

I've noticed. Shall I make use of your enthusiasm this way?

Such fortunate little ones. Such unfortunate parents.

[Fingon's eyes gleam]

I am ready to serve in whatever way you wish.

[His hands move up those thighs slowly, tracing the skin and the lean muscle beneath]

That is how it should be!

(Happy children and exhausted parents.

His breath catches and he reaches between them, gently caressing a circle against Fingon's abdomen.)

We're not limited. We can start one way and end another.

[Maedhros' touch sets his skin afire, and Fingon tilts back his head and groans.]

You have the most wonderful ideas, love. But come up here, now, you're not yet prepared.

(His hand slips lower and his fingers graze Fingon's length.)

I do not touch you here nearly enough. It's a shame.

(He grins, kissing the center of his love's chest.)

How must I be prepared, hm?

(But Maedhros raises himself, his hair spilling over his shoulders like strands of fire and copper.)

Here’s your chance to make up for it.

[Fingon mutters, already aroused with Maedhros’ teasing]

I think you know the answer- unless you want to feel me into next week, and then never again?

[One hand moves to Maedhros’ arse, while Fingon sets the fingers of the other. Best to get this over with, so they can move on to more pleasurable activities. ]

(His grip tightens and he grins, stroking slowly to encourage that arousal to grow.)

Don't mind me while I take advantage of it.

(He shifts his hips forward, lifting himself to make the intrusion easier. A low rumble follows the first touch and he shudders.)

Never again? Love, even if I felt you into next week, I would not be done with you.

[Fingon throbs in his hands and lets out a low moan.]

I never have before.

[His voice comes out hoarse. It's tempting to serve Maedhros the same trick he had played, to flip them over and enjoy himself that way. But no, that would not do at all.

He's quick as he prepares Maedhros- quick but thorough, opening him up with eager fingers.]

And they call me valiant- nothing will keep you from what you want, will it?

(He hums, circling his thumb around the tip. Just feeling Fingon's reaction is enough to arouse him. He can never be satisfied - at least not for long. His love is wild, but somehow tender too.)

You have nothing to fear but some fatigue.

(Grinning, he lifts himself, steadying himself with one hand against the bed. The intrusion begins with some discomfort, but Fingon is good with his hands and the sensation quickly transforms into one of pleasure. Then again, Maedhros has had trouble differentiating pain from pleasure since -

Though his body moves on its own, rocking against the fingers. He doubts very much he feels any pain.)

I'm ravenous for you. (He shivers and bends down, kissing Fingon passionately.)