Self Confidence
by Mayetra

March 8th 3019 T.A.

Beneath the tall dark-leaved trees crowned with scarlet blossoms at the edge of a long green lawn stood the pavilion of Elessar, King of Gondor and the Western Lands. It was separated some from the rest of the scattered tents to afford the new King a respite and a bit of privacy.

Éomer stood across the lawn towards the large sable and silver pavilion. No one halted his progress as he approached, for Éomer was King of the Rohan and afforded unrestricted access to Elessar. The guards merely noted his passing and turned their attention back to the silent night, scanning the darkened forest around them for signs of unwanted guests.

Éomer parted the flaps and entered the tent. He took a moment to view his surroundings. The tent was split into two portions. He was standing in the main room. There was a long table surrounded by chairs to one side and a smattering of chairs to the other. In the back wall of the partition, Éomer could see the fabric walls parted to reveal a smaller bedchamber. The main room was dark, but the bedroom was illuminated with the warm, flickering glow of lantern light.

Éomer licked his lips and strode towards the second room. He had been thinking about Aragorn more and more since their liaison at Helm's Deep. He would lie awake at night with Aragorn's promise ringing in his ears. Aragorn had taken on the role of king easily enough, but Éomer wondered if it was nothing more than a mask. Would Aragorn have the confidence to take what he wanted? What Éomer wanted to give to him?

He stood in the second chamber and frowned...it was empty. The twin lanterns hanging from their respective corners chased away the deep shadows and the entire room was revealed to him. There wasn't much in the way of furnishings. A large thick mattress lay directly on the ground, which was covered by a simple black carpet. The mattress was covered by fine linens and a thick comforter, as befitted the royal body that would use it. The only other object in the room was a flat-topped chest that doubled as a nightstand. It held a simple ceramic jar upon its surface and nothing more.

Éomer was just getting ready to leave and begin a search for Aragorn, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around him. His instinct demanded that he lash out at his unknown assailant, but the deep rich voice that whispered in his ear stopped him.

"Have you come for the riding lesson I promised you?"

Éomer was unable to suppress the shudder that pulsed through his body as the softly spoken seductive words registered.

"Think you are confident enough to try?" Éomer's voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. Did Aragorn really make him that weak?

The arms around his chest were gone a second later, and before Éomer's lust befuddled mind could register what was happening, he found himself flat on his back on the bed. Aragorn was straddling his hips, naked except for a thin pair of leggings.

Aragorn looked down on the handsome man trapped beneath him. He truly was a glorious sight. His skin was lightly bronzed from time in the sun. His complexion complimented his long thick mane of golden hair. But it was Éomer's face that demanded Aragorn's attention. The younger man had the most vibrant blue eyes Aragorn had ever seen. They sparked brightly when Éomer laughed, which had been rare in the past few weeks, but now they had deepened with passion. Aragorn wondered if he could drown in them. He tore his gaze away from the longing he saw there and let them wander over the planes of Éomer's face. The blond had a strong face without being severe. He was handsome especially with his full lips that seemed to taunt Aragorn, begging to be kissed.

"I have learned that words are nothing. It is the deeds of a man that define him," Aragorn responded to Éomer's question. Before the younger man could formulate a response, Aragorn dipped his head and kissed him.

Éomer moaned as his mouth was assaulted. He parted his lips at Aragorn's insistence. The older man's tongue swept inside and began to duel with his own in a battle for sexual dominance. If Éomer had been stiff when he entered the tent with just the mere promise of erotic pleasure, now he was throbbing painfully with unfulfilled desire. He groaned against Aragorn's kiss as the other man shifted his hips, grinding their erections together. The cloth between their bodies enhanced the sensation yet detracted from the pleasure of flesh sliding against flesh.

Aragorn began to kiss the rough beard that covered Éomer's chin, while his fingers began to undo the tiny buttons holding together the blonde's tunic. He followed his fingers progress, nipping and licking the salty flesh revealed beneath the parting cloth.  Fingers threaded through his hair as Éomer writhed beneath him. Aragorn sat up to slide the tunic off Éomer's broad shoulders and down his arms, pulling the offending garment out from underneath him and tossing it off the bed.

Éomer groaned as Aragorn trailed fingers lightly down his chest, stopping to circle and pinch his taut nipples. "Please, Aragorn, do not tease me." He punctuated his statement by shifting his hips impatiently.

Aragorn chuckled but did nothing more to ease Éomer's discomfort, content to explore the broad plain of his lover's chest at his leisure. He slid back until he was resting on Éomer's thighs. He began to pull at the ties holding the younger man's leggings closed. The older man reached into the tight confines beneath the now loose ties and slowly stroked the hard erection he found there, his thumb sweeping over the tiny dew filled slit.

Éomer shift his hips as much as he could, trying desperately to fuck Aragorn's hand but failing miserably. Clutching the comforter beneath him, he gritted his teeth, trying not to lose control. He had already begged once, he would not do it again.

Aragorn moved off the bed, pulled the blonde's leggings off, and then removed his own swiftly. The older man grabbed Éomer by the hip and rolled him over. "Time for me to show you how well I can ride."

Éomer almost cried out with glee as he maneuvered to his hands and knees. He was vaguely aware of Aragorn dipping his fingers into the little pot on the chest next to the table and then his senses were only aware of the finger pressing deep inside him. It happened so swiftly that he had barely registered the pain when stars burst before his eyes as the tiny gland inside him was stroked. Only once before had a lover taken him this way, his beloved cousin, Théodred had introduced him to the physical love between men. He pushed aside his sadness as he concentrated on the pleasant sensations that Aragorn was visiting on his body.

Aragorn stretched and prepared him until Éomer easily took three fingers. With a final stroke at the blonde's prostate, he pulled his fingers and positioned his slick cock at the tight rings of flesh guarding the tight sheath beyond. Gripping Éomer's hips, he slowly pressed forward.

Éomer groaned as pain blossomed followed by a sense of burning fullness. He shuddered in ecstasy as Aragorn's shaft brushed the bud of pleasure deep within him. Balancing his weight on one elbow, he reached between under himself to grip his throbbing cock only to find his hand pushed aside.

Aragorn ran a slick hand up and down Éomer's shaft, oiling it up. He didn't move but remained buried in the tight, warm channel. "I know what you want, Éomer but it pleases my vanity to hear you beg." The older man released Éomer and leaned back up, gripping the younger man's hip with one hand and wrapping his other fist around the long, silky mass of blond hair.

"By the Valar, Aragorn, ride me." Éomer groaned as his own hand returned to his cock. His pleading was rewarded as Aragorn withdrew and thrust back into him. The older man started a hard, demanding rhythm and Éomer's head was held up as his hair was pulled back.

Aragorn groaned as his cock plundered the younger man's secret depths. He had never felt anything so exquisite.

The sound of sweat-soaked flesh slapping against sweat-soaked skin filled the tent along with mingled moans and groans coming from both men. Then, Éomer's yell of pleasure cut above all the other sounds as he came, his essence arcing up to hit him in the chest before landing to glisten on the dark comforter. He was prevented from collapsing by the older man's grip on his hip and hair.

Aragorn was so close and almost lost his hold when Éomer orgasmed, but he held on, determined to outlast the younger man. But it wasn't long after that the pleasure pressure became too much and he yelled his own release collapsing onto the younger man in a shaking sweat heap.

It was close to dawn, when Éomer silently dressed in the cool morning air. He leaned over and lightly kissed the sleeping dark hair man on the bed. Aragorn would be a great King and Éomer looked forward to holding many more Œcounsel meetings' with him.

Read the prequel Confidence Boost

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