i swallowed your name // it tasted like light by atlantablack  

Later, he'll never be entirely sure what it is that catches Fëanáro's interest, only that Fëanáro had come to the palace to speak with their father after finally having returned to Tirion from traveling and as he'd been leaving the palace they had run into each other.

Here is the thing about Fëanáro that he knows — his brother does not like him. It is simply the way of things no matter that he sometimes lays awake at night trying to find the map to fixing it. But Fëanáro does not brush past him this time as he normally would. Instead stops in the corridor and cocks his head to the side as he studies Ñolofinwë.

He smiles tentatively, unsure what to make of the look Fëanáro is directing at him, a strange dark fire. “Hello brother," he says finally, when the silence caries too long and Fëanáro makes no move to leave. “Welcome back.”

Fëanáro blinks, an almost startled expression flitting across his face. "Nolvo," he says softly after another moment. Ñolofinwë cannot help but startle at the nickname. "Come, I wish to speak with you," Fëanáro says, abruptly turning and walking the other direction.

Ñolofinwë gapes after him for only a moment before hurrying to follow. He is not sure what exactly is going on but he is terribly curious as to what could inspire his nickname in that tone. Strangely, Fëanáro leads them to his rooms that he still has at the palace for the times he visits for extended periods of time. Ñolofinwë does not question it despite his curiosity. Despite being sure that his brother had no intention of speaking with him when he first visited and cannot imagine what he has to say now.

Fëanáro turns to face him when they enter the sitting room and Ñolofinwë stays just inside the room, the door clicking closed behind him ominously. Fëanáro studies him for another long minute and Ñolofinwë swallows, knows that there is something strange going on in his brother's mind but unsure what.

"You've grown," Fëanáro says quietly, a thoughtful note to his voice.

He does not manage to stop himself from saying dryly, "Yes, that is what happens when you do not visit for five years."

"I was traveling," he says, waving a hand through the air dismissively. He takes a step forward and Ñolofinwë would step back if the door were not right behind him. "You've grown very beautiful," his brother says softly, still studying his face intently.

He flushes, would have expected nearly anything but that from his brother's mouth. "I— thank you? I'm not sure—" he breaks off, mouth very dry as Fëanáro steps closer and slowly brings up a hand to cradle his cheek. Fëanáro's thumb slowly strokes his cheek; his brother's eyes are very dark. He finds all he can do is stare back with wide-eyes, heart in his throat.

"You should tell me to stop," Fëanáro says softly, taking the last step and pressing himself flush against Ñolofinwë.

Ñolofinwë swallows with some difficulty, tilts his head back against the door to meet Fëanáro's eyes. "You are my brother," he says, voice wavering. "We should not."

Fëanáro smiles wryly. "That is not telling me to stop."

"I—" the words get stuck in his throat, his breath hitching as Fëanáro leans in, mouth a hairbreadth from his.

"Tell me to stop," Fëanáro says quietly, the words warm against his mouth. Fëanáro's eyes are burning and Ñolofinwë is quite sure there is not enough air in the room for it should not be this difficult to breathe.

He means to say stop, he does. Knows this is terribly wrong. But what comes out of his mouth instead, is "Fëanáro, please," his voice terribly small and breathless. Fëanáro makes a punched-out noise and kisses him.

He thinks he means to push Fëanáro away, but Fëanáro's mouth is on his, Fëanáro working his lips apart and licking into his mouth curiously, Fëanáro's other hand working its way beneath his tunic, and instead he finds himself winding his arms around Fëanáro's neck and kissing back as best he can.  Fëanáro bites lightly at his lip and sucks it into his mouth, tugging at Ñolofinwë's hair and tilting his head farther back as he deepens the kiss. He cannot stop moaning as Fëanáro's hand maps out his body and Fëanáro swallows every single one down, groaning as Ñolofinwë tangles his fingers in Fëanáro's hair and impulsively pulls on it.

Fëanáro pulls away from his mouth and nuzzles his cheek for a moment, before mouthing his way down Ñolofinwë's neck, biting down ever so lightly once. His fingers are making quick work of the buttons of Ñolofinwë's tunic and he can only hang on and try desperately to breathe. He should pull away. He knows he should pull away. But Fëanáro pushes his tunic off his shoulders and he lowers his arms, helpfully lets it slip down his arms and to the floor. Buries his fingers in Fëanáro's hair as he kisses his way down Ñolofinwë's throat and to his chest. Whines quietly when Fëanáro nips sharply at his chest, worrying a bruise onto his skin.

He feels too warm, want buzzing through him and leaving his skin prickling. Fëanáro's hands slide down his sides and over his hips, teeth sharp against one nipple and then the other as Ñolofinwë whimpers and arches up into Fëanáro's touch.

"We should not be doing this," he chokes out, finally forcing the words up his throat. His fingers tighten in Fëanáro's hair, another whimper escaping him, completely invalidating the words. Fëanáro pays no attention to the words regardless, intent on sucking another bruise onto his chest.

"Do not worry so much," Fëanáro says roughly when he pulls away, kissing Ñolofinwë again before he can complain.

All thoughts flee his mind the moment Fëanáro kisses him, roughly fucking his tongue into Ñolofinwë's mouth as he continues running his hands over Ñolofinwë's body, pinching at his already sore nipples, digging his fingers into Ñolofinwë’s sides, scratching a harsh set of lines on his stomach. He moans into the kiss completely taken by it all and does not even think to fight it when Fëanáro pulls away and softly says, "On your knees."

He goes down with no hesitation, blinking up at Fëanáro feeling dazed and painfully turned on. Fëanáro who is staring down at him with wide, shocked eyes that melt into something far gentler than he's used to seeing directed at him.

"I see," Fëanáro says quietly, gently running his fingers through Ñolofinwë's hair and cupping his cheek in his hand. He turns into the touch and kisses the middle of Fëanáro's palm. Can see out of the corner of his eye Fëanáro unlacing his pants and feels a hot stone of lust settle in his stomach, rivaled only by the anxiety suddenly racing through him. "Come, open your mouth for me little brother."

He jerks his eyes up to Fëanáro's face in shock, finds only soft amusement staring back. "Your mouth," Fëanáro says again, gently tapping his cheek and drawing Ñolofinwë's attention to his brother's cock, hard and flushed and leaking in front of him.

They should not be doing this. He knows this. Knows it is wrong and marred. But he is curious and Fëanáro has called him brother and he wants and wants and wants. So he opens his mouth.

Fëanáro’s cock is thick and pushes inside of his mouth slowly. Fëanáro groans in pleasure and Ñolofinwë cannot help but moan in response. Feels something sharp and viciously pleased flare to life in his chest at being the one to inspire such sounds from Fëanáro. He keeps his teeth out of the way and draws in shallow breaths through his nose as Fëanáro tortuously slow pushes farther into his mouth and then down his throat. He does not stop even when Ñolofinwë gags, unused to such things. Fucks his entire cock down Ñolofinwë's throat until it is fully sheathed in the wet heat of his mouth and he cannot breathe, can only whimper as he chokes on his brother's cock.

Fëanáro pulls out and he gasps, coughs, is given only a second to breathe before Fëanáro has grabbed a handful of his hair to hold him still and fucked back into his mouth. He is not overly rough but he does not give Ñolofinwë even a second to breathe or adjust. Fucks his entire cock down Ñolofinwë's throat again and again as he gags and whimpers and swallows convulsively, spit dripping down his chin and tears falling down his cheeks. Fëanáro's eyes are blown-out with want, are awestruck and locked onto his face. The awestruck look being handed out so freely makes Ñolofinwë want more. He wants his brother to keep looking at him as if he is something special, something his brother wishes to keep.

He picks up the rhythm of Fëanáro’s movements after a minute and tries curling his tongue around Fëanáro’s cock and sucking as he fucks into his mouth, and just because he’s curious, he lets teeth very lightly press against Fëanáro’s cock once and is rewarded with a startled inhale and Fëanáro’s hips stuttering.

“Your mouth, fuck” Fëanáro hisses, hand tightening in his hair. He fucks in quickly twice, the second time keeping his cock shoved all the way down Ñolofinwë's throat for a long moment where he cannot breathe, cannot do anything but whine high in the back of his throat. Fëanáro pulls out and hauls Ñolofinwë to his feet. He leans back against the door gasping for air and loses it all again when Fëanáro kisses him, licking into his mouth and stealing the taste of himself. Then without even a word of warning, Fëanáro’s hands are sliding under his thighs and he is being picked up and carried to the bedroom. Fëanáro drops him onto the bed and he lays there still greedily dragging in deep breaths of air as Fëanáro swiftly finishes undressing them.

Fëanáro crawls on top of him and spends a moment kissing him, his hands restlessly running over every inch of skin they can. Ñolofinwë kisses back, digs his nails into Fëanáro’s hips just to be mean, for as much as he had enjoyed that he also really does enjoy breathing. Fëanáro smiles into the kiss and bites his bottom lip sharply in return. Messily kisses his way down Ñolofinwë's body, leaves another bruise on his hip, and takes Ñolofinwë into his mouth. He moans, bucking up into Fëanáro's mouth without quite meaning to, is so turned on he feels dizzy with it. Fëanáro grips his hips tightly and presses him back down against the bed, swirls his tongue around the head of Ñolofinwë's cock and hums with pleasure when Ñolofinwë gasps, hips straining against his grip. He presses the flat of his tongue against the underside of Ñolofinwë's cock and hollows his cheeks, sucking hard. Ñolofinwë makes a garbled noise, clenches his fingers around the bedsheets, and moans helplessly as he spills down Fëanáro's throat.

He stares dazed at the ceiling as Fëanáro moves back up the bed. Opens his mouth when Fëanáro kisses him and hums in interest at the taste of his own seed. Fëanáro’s hands come up to cradle his face as they kiss and he curls his fingers around Fëanáro’s wrists, thinks, stay, stay, stay.

"Come on, baby," Fëanáro murmurs as he pulls back, voice painfully gentle in a way Ñolofinwë has never heard it, “turn on your stomach for me."

He complies without hesitation, would do anything Fëanáro asks if he will continue speaking to him in such a way. He lets Fëanáro pull his hips up and sucks in a shocked breath when Fëanáro’s tongue begins circling his hole. Fëanáro works his tongue into Ñolofinwë's hole, slowly fucking him open and he curses, pushes back into the feeling. Fëanáro pulls away, leaving him bereft of warmth as a drawer opens and closes, and then a slick finger is pushing inside of him as Fëanáro presses open-mouthed kisses against his skin. Fëanáro reaches beneath him and lightly fondles Ñolofinwë’s soft cock as he adds a second finger and he is torn between pushing desperately back, wanting more, or pulling away with how every spark of pleasure bears the warning of pain, his body feeling so terribly sensitive.

Fëanáro’s fingers disappear for a moment and then slowly press inside of him once more, newly slick as Fëanáro works a third one in, scissoring them apart slowly. He can hear himself whining and gasping, cannot seem to stop, cannot seem to get enough air into his lungs. He moans Fëanáro's name as he pushes back onto Fëanáro’s fingers and he curses, twists the three fingers inside of Ñolofinwë and crooks them upward. Mutters, "That should do,” when Ñolofinwë cries out at the bolt of pleasure that had gone striking through him.

He wastes no time pressing the head of his cock to Ñolofinwë's hole and begins slowly pressing inside of his body. Ñolofinwë cannot breathe, feels as if he is going to shake apart or be split open. Wants more, wants it to stop, wants to never leave this moment, his heart in his throat as Fëanáro presses in so slowly for what feels like so long before finally bottoming out. He is not aware that he’s started crying until Fëanáro pulls him up, back to chest, pressing him even farther down onto his brother’s cock, and gently kisses the side of his neck. Wipes the tears on his cheeks away.

"Shh. This is going to feel good, baby. Give it a minute,” Fëanáro says, voice rough with desire. Ñolofinwë will give him anything. Is still grateful when Fëanáro waits for him to adjust, leaves a trail of kisses down the side of his throat, across his shoulder. Does not know how to explain that it is not only that he feels too full, too sensitive, but that it is overwhelming having Fëanáro so close to him, having Fëanáro inside of him. When he had dreamed of Fëanáro looking at him and seeing him, this is not quite what he’d had in mind.

He tips his head back on Fëanáro’s shoulder and tries to just breathe. Absently grinds down onto Fëanáro’s cock and shudders at the pleasure-pain that goes racing through him. Fëanáro groans against his neck, breathing jagged. Reaches around and begins stroking Ñolofinwë’s half-hard cock while he sucks another bruise onto Ñolofinwë’s neck. My brother is fucking me, he thinks, the thought only a little hysterical. He grinds down again and it is still pleasure-pain, pleasure-pain but it sparks through him and this time he whines, high and needy and utterly shameless as he listens to Fëanáro curse.

Fëanáro pushes him back down onto the bed, pulls nearly all the way out, and then fucks back in hard. He is not sure what noise he makes, if he makes any noise at all, his heartbeat is so loud in his ears but he knows he has Fëanáro’s name permanently clenched between his teeth as Fëanáro fucks him. My brother is fucking me, he thinks again, a little greedy, a little pleased. Fëanáro shifts his hips several times as he fucks into him and then hits a spot inside of Ñolofinwë that sends his heart scrambling up his throat as he keens, desperately clutching at the sheets as he pushes back into it.

He reaches down to fist his own cock roughly, gasps around the slick pleasure crawling up his spine and filling his throat, listens to the noises of pleasure his brother is making and feels lit up, like he could live in this moment forever if it meant he got to keep Fëanáro close to him. Fëanáro leans over him, curling his arm around Ñolofinwë’s chest and pressing them closely together as he continues to fuck into him. “Go on little brother,” Fëanáro says roughly near his ear, his chest rising and falling rapidly against Ñolofinwë’s back, “come for me.”

Ñolofinwë gasps, heat rushing through him, and spills over his hand, clenching tight around Fëanáro who bites down on Ñolofinwë’s shoulder and moans as he fucks hard into Ñolofinwë’s body, once, twice, thrice more, and spills inside of him. He collapses helplessly onto the bed, makes no effort to avoid the mess beneath him. Fëanáro in turns collapses onto him, stays laying on top of him for a long minute, a comforting weight as he sleepily blinks. He wipes his hand off on the covers and whines quietly when Fëanáro shifts, slipping out of him.

“Shh, you’re fine,” Fëanáro murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lower back. He’s shifted from one spot to another as Fëanáro moves them around, arranging them to his liking. They end up on the clean side of the bed, curled into each other. Fëanáro kisses him slowly, holding him close, and Ñolofinwë swallows all the questions blooming in his throat. Kisses Fëanáro back and thinks of the way brother sounds on Fëanáro’s tongue when lost to pleasure. Thinks of Fëanáro softly saying, baby, as if Ñolofinwë was someone he intended to keep. He is not quite sure what they just started but is sure that he does not regret it, though he knows he should.

But his brother is kissing him like this matters and Ñolofinwë is a deeply selfish person when it comes to attention from Fëanáro. Has not particularly cared if the attention was kind or not for a long while, as long as it was attention. That this attention is nearly gentle makes him all the more determined to keep it. He presses in as close as he can, asks very quietly, “Stay?”

Fëanáro hums, kisses him again and pulls the covers over them. “I will still be here when you wake,” Fëanáro says softly.

Ñolofinwë should be feeling many things he is not, should be pulling away, repenting, but he only tucks his head under Fëanáro’s chin and quietly drifts off to the sound of Fëanáro’s breathing feeling very warm and very content.

Chapter End Notes

Fëanor's thought process at one point is something like "oh Nolvo won't want to go to his knees, I bet he's gotten such an inflated ego while I've been gone etc" and then Fingolfin just drops immediately and Fëanor's entire brain short circuits. Something like that. I'm not letting myself think too hard on it.

Don't ask about the "baby" endearment. idk. It just happened and then refused to flow right when I tried to take it out.

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