Warning! Warning! See the R rating? Believe it! If you do not wish to read a scene involving an elf and a dwarf in somewhat explicit sexual contact, I recommend using the back button on your browser. Now. Otherwise, proceed.

Never Forget (2/2)

Legolas stared for a moment. He truly hadn't expected Gimli to come here tonight. After the first few nights of whose-room-are-we-going-to they had agreed that Gimli should move into Legolas', since Legolas couldn't cope well with the underground nature of Gimli's. But while they weren't hiding their relationship from their friends they weren't posting notices in all seven circles, either, and for the sake of appearances Gimli maintained his own rooms as well, though he rarely visited them. He had spent a few nights there when Legolas' kin had arrived, before Legolas had gotten up the nerve to inform them of the relationship. After the way Gimli had stormed out earlier, Legolas had assumed he would have the room to himself tonight.

Gimli stood in the doorway a moment, and Legolas couldn't read his expression. It was cold, impassive, betraying no emotion. Legolas felt cold again when he met it, and some small part of the anger he had felt earlier returned. If Gimli had come back just to argue more, then Legolas wanted no part in it. He lay back down on his side, with his back turned to Gimli--the effect of a closed door.

He could hear the door to his rooms close, and for a moment it was so quiet he didn't know if Gimli had come in or gone away again. He refused to look. Then he heard Gimli moving around, quietly taking off his boots and changing into his nightclothes. Anger, unaccountably, stirred in Legolas again. Like nothing has happened. What on earth was Gimli trying to accomplish by pretending things were all right? They weren't.

Legolas felt the bed shift as Gimli sat down next to him, and he could feel the dwarf's eyes on him, carefully studying him for reaction. Legolas did not move. He felt paralyzed, and he wanted nothing more than to pretend he was asleep, even though he and Gimli had stared at each other for a moment when he came in and it was obvious he was not.

He was startled to feel a hand hovering above his face--then ever so gently, Gimli brushed his hair back from his cheek. Legolas had to bite his lip against the tenderness of the touch, against the longing that swelled painfully within him. He longed for Gimli to touch him more, hold him and tell him everything would be all right. You're being a child, Legolas he told himself angrily. Things weren't going to be all right, it was no use pretending they would be.

Gimli continued to caress Legolas's hair, with the special gentle touch he reserved only for his elf--a touch far more delicate than Legolas had believed a dwarf capable of. He had been pleasantly surprised. Gimli's other hand came to rest softly on Legolas's hip.

Though it cost him, Legolas managed to make his lips move. "No," he whispered.

Gimli stilled; Legolas could feel the pain coursing through him as though it were his own. Then the dwarf gave a low, resigned sigh and removed his hand from Legolas's hair, though the one on his hip lingered, gently stroking as though Gimli couldn't bring himself to break this last viable, physical connection. Gimli leaned over Legolas and whispered in a voice hoarse with emotion. "Goodnight, Legolas. I love you."

He kissed Legolas's temple lightly, his beard rasping against the smooth skin of Legolas's cheek. Then the hand was finally withdrawn and Gimli lay down, leaving a courteous distance between them.

Legolas's heart was hammering. He realized suddenly that Gimli wasn't ignoring the horrible fight, that the gentle touches were his way of trying to make amends: Gimli always had a hard time initiating any discussion about their feelings, it just wasn't dwarvish. Instead he was trying to show Legolas with actions that he still loved him, and the elf had whispered no to him.

Legolas half-raised himself and looked at Gimli; the dwarf was lying with his eyes closed, breathing deeply, an expression of pain etched on his face. Legolas was undone. With a suddenness and determination that must have shocked his partner he closed the space between them and pressed his face into the gap between Gimli's hair and beard, resting his neck on Gimli's shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around Gimli's waist. It only took a moment for Gimli to respond, roughly enfolding Legolas in his embrace, so tightly Legolas feared he would suffocate. They lay together silently, clinging so tightly to one another that their muscles trembled. Legolas realized he was weeping; after a moment Gimli felt the tears on his neck and stroked his elf's back, making soft soothing noises.

Legolas pressed a kiss into Gimli's neck. "I love you too," he whimpered quietly.

Gimli kissed the top of his head. "I know. I love you, Legolas. And I'm sorry."

Now that the words had been said Legolas realized how little he had needed to hear them. Still, "I'm sorry too," he whispered back, hoping Gimli would believe him. "I didn't stand up for you, I should have."

"I shouldn't have broken down like that."

"No," Legolas reassured him, cupping the dwarf's face in his hands and meeting his eyes for the first time. There was deep pain there. "No, you were in the right. It was horrible, what they said," he assured Gimli, his voice breaking a little as he recalled the callous indifference his kin had displayed to Gimli's feelings. "I don't blame you in the slightest."

"I overreacted," Gimli insisted.

Legolas had to admit this was true; Gimli's explosion had been truly spectacular. Legolas never wanted to be on the recieving end of that righteous wrath. "You," he said, punctuating his words with a kiss, "couldn't take it anymore. Neither could I. That's why I yelled at you later. But I was yelling at the wrong person."

Gimli smiled at him, and leaned in for a more passionate kiss. Legolas eagerly let Gimli's tongue invade his mouth, desperate for reassurance. He realized he was shaking, physically shaking, with relief. Gimli must have realized it too, because he pulled back and

looked at his elf with concern. "Legolas. It's all right. It's all right now," he soothed, brushing a stray lock away from Legolas's forehead. "We've forgiven each other. It's all right."

"But it's going to happen again," Legolas whimpered. "And again, and again, and again. It was so wonderful, being sheltered here from everything and everyone but now--now we have to face what everyone will think of us. Now we have to face all those arguments and


"So we'll face them," Gimli said, solid and unperturbed. "Together," and he emphasized this with a kiss. "As long as we stand by each other, as long as we never forget why we're going through this--because we love each other." He caught and held Legolas's gaze, trying to pour the truth of his words into his beloved. "Then everything will be all right."

"Truly?" Legolas asked wistfully, like a child asking his parent if the sun really would rise the next day.

"Truly. How can I make you believe me?"

Legolas had no trouble coming up with an answer to that one. "Make love to me," he said instantly. "Please."

Gimli did not bother to reply with words; he just leaned in and kissed his lover deeply, while at the same time undoing the sash on his nightclothes. "Please," Legolas gasped again in the brief moment Gimli surrendered his mouth, just long enough to grab some air. He could not seem to stop; he kept saying it as Gimli quickly divested them both of their clothing, kissing him all the while. Legolas was of little help getting them undressed, he was too busy clutching at Gimli's shoulders, hair, anything he could reach. "Saes," Legolas whimpered as Gimli nipped at the joining of neck and shoulder, his hands kneading Legolas's hips. "Please!"

Gimli reluctantly removed his mouth from Legolas's neck long enough to speak. "Shh, Legolas," he said soothingly. Legolas's arms twined tightly around his neck, pulling him close, and Gimli tried to return the embrace with equally crushing force. "I have you."

Legolas stilled in Gimli's arms, loosing the frantic quality to his motions. He looked up at Gimli, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Gimli moved to kiss each of his eyelids, and as Legolas closed his eyes to accept this caress the tears spilled down his cheeks. Gimli kissed them away as well. "I love you," he told the elf tenderly, and then proceeded to prove it in the best way he knew how.

He reached for the oil they kept on the beside and coated his fingers with it--a little awkwardly, since Legolas would not untwine his arms from around Gimli's shoulders. Gimli knew without asking that Legolas would want Gimli to take him tonight. His lover had told him once that he enjoyed the feeling of being possessed by Gimli, of belonging to him, and after today the elf would need that feeling. Gimli gently probed Legolas's entrance, all the while kissing him--he felt Legolas gasp into his mouth and eagerly spread his legs, which encouraged Gimli. Legolas purred happily into the kiss, writhing in a manner that never failed to convince Gimli he was the luckiest person in Middle Earth.

Gimli tried to go slowly with his lover, but Legolas would have none of it. "More," he demanded in a surprisingly forceful tone, thrusting his hips downward. Gimli complied, and it was not long before he was ready to replace his fingers.

Legolas gasped when Gimli entered him, throwing his head back and clutching at the sheets. Concerned that he was hurting him, Gimli slowed himself considerably as he gently slid into his lover. Again Legolas foiled his intentions, this time by the simple act of reaching around to cup Gimli's cheeks and fiercely pulling his love into him, wrapping his legs around the dwarf's waist for extra measure. Gimli needed no further encouragement after that; he abandoned his attempts at gentleness and began moving against Legolas with a fierce passion. The incoherent noises of pleasure spilling out of his elf's throat were enough to convince him this was how Legolas wanted it also. It wasn't long before Legolas lunged forward and bit down hard into Gimli's shoulder, muffling his cry of pleasure. Only when his elf was lying sated in his arms did Gimli allow himself to spill over the edge as well.

When he could move again Gimli lifted himself off Legolas's chest and reached for a cloth they kept next to the oil. Legolas lay placidly smiling at his lover while Gimli cleaned the effects of their lovemaking from them, careful to use a gentle touch around Legolas's entrance. When he was done Legolas raised his torso off the bed and, smiling, guided Gimli into lying on his back. Legolas then settled down at his side, laying his head on Gimli's left breast so as to be able to listen to his lover's heartbeat slow.

For a long moment neither said anything; comforted by the closeness of the other, they allowed themselves time to recover from their exertions. Legolas played sleepily with Gimli's beard; Gimli smiled indulgently at him. After a while, Legolas raised his head slightly to look at his lover and said, "Gimli, promise me something."

"Anything," Gimli replied.

"Promise me next time something like this happens we'll remember what's important," Legolas said seriously, "and not get swept up in what other people are doing or saying. And promise me you'll never forget how much I love you."

Gimli kissed him gently. "If you promise the same."

Legolas nodded solemnly and accepted another soft kiss before returning to snuggling against Gimli's chest, reveling in the strength of his lover. After a moment he asked curiously, "Did Gandalf really come after you?" Gimli snorted. "Well?"

"Let's just say that beloved staff of his was quite nearly lost to a dwarf's axe. And Aragorn?"

"Came within an inch of wearing the wine he helped himself to." Chuckling, the pair drifted off to sleep.