He can hear logs crackling in the grate, can smell pine resin hissing and spitting in the flames. Outside, hoar frost covers every branch and in the moonlight the garden glitters cold, but he cannot see it through the dark stuff covering his eyes.
A cup is put to his lips and he drinks; spiced ale that warms going down. It is strong and as he sways hands guide him to kneel. He surely knows what comes next, licks lips gone suddenly dry then…arms enfold him, a body presses skin-to-skin and soft lips meet his and beg their own release.
Summary: Boromir lets his imagination run ahead of him…
Rated: PG-13
Categories: LOTR FPS Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 101 Read: 633
Published: 01 Dec 2011 Updated: 01 Dec 2011
Story Notes:
DISCLAIMER: "These characters originate with their copyright holders. I borrow them for entertainment, not profit."