Title: Faery Hearts

By: foggynite

foggynite@hotmail.com

Fandom: Legend

Pairing: Jack/Gump

Rating: R

Summary: Did anyone else think Lily was too self-centered for our forest child? My happy ending after the happy ending. Almost a PWP.

Archive: Hey, if I posted it to you, take it.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to Ridley Scott and a whole bunch of other people who are not me. I am a starving student (kinda—well, I would be if anyone sued us) and am just flexing my little fingers…

Note: Slashing the wonderful films I grew up watching. I'm so proud of me.


Faery Hearts
By: foggynite
~*~

Una: "Human hearts are soft like porridge. A faery's heart beats fierce and free!"

Jack awakens slowly. Golden firelight dances on the tree boughs over his head and he stretches languorously. The lick of flames stirs a memory, one from long ago, of lockets and rings and a sparkling smile. But she's back in her castle, with her politics and finery, and he's here in his bed of pine and fur, his empire of dirt and freedom. He raises himself up on his elbows, aware of how large he seems in the makeshift shelter, and lets his fingers trail through the soft pelts covering him.

Giggles all around, mute whispers. The fey. He grins, gazing blindly into the fire and catching them in his periphery vision. They titter at him, flitting around like large fireflies. He's grown used to their regard, since the Darkness. Maybe he intrigues them, like he did Una. Maybe they just like to laugh at his mortal clumsiness.

The giggles die down and he looks away from the flames. Once his vision adjusts, he realizes that a boyishly inhuman face is regarding him silently from the other side of the hut.

"Hello, Gump."

"Jack." Raspy voice, incongruous to the child-like body. The elf is crouched low, wearing only a loin cloth. His bow and quiver are propped to the right of the door, where he always places them.

The silence stretches onward. Jack lays back again, reaching for a wooden goblet warming on the hearthstone. The noises of the forest outside mask the imperceptible sounds of Gump moving across the shelter, but Jack expects the caress of chill air as the furs are drawn back. He turns back to the elf, goblet raised to his lips, and Gump watches the line of his throat with unblinking eyes.

The sprites buzz around outside, whispering to each other, and the other elves are scampering around in the underbrush, through the trees. Jack ignores them as Gump leans in closer, swipes his boy-but-not tongue down Jack's collar bone, rough and damp and so much friction. Jack lets the goblet sink back to the stone, lets his neck arch into that touch.

Smooth hands, unblemished by time, slide along his abdomen, into the curve of his hip. Gump's body is so much lighter than his own, almost insubstantial but so much more enduring. His fingers trail up the elf's legs, cupping his buttocks and stroking his thighs, and his mouth seeks out Gump's, warm and hot and plundering.

This is what he thinks of as he runs along forests paths and climbs through the limbs of ancient trees. Gump's hands on him, teasing and caressing and playful and serious, and the voices of the other elves as they begin to chatter around the communal fire outside, and the slither of fur against his back and legs as he angles his hips just right, spreads himself to let Gump settle on top of him in a blanket of pale skin and heat. His small groans captured by Gump's mouth, the elf nipping at his lips and sucking on his tongue until all he can do is arch and moan and his body tenses, drawn tight like a bow string.

After another thrust, Gump slumps on top of him, panting, and wetly mouths the skin nearest him. His gentle hands sweeping along Jack's sweaty chest and arms, light like a butterfly's touch. Constantly in motion now.

And Jack lies there, staring at the night sky through the branches. He listens to their hearts, hears them beating fierce and free.


END
~*~
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