Characters: Boromir/ Théodred
Rating: Adult – implied sexual content
Disclaimer: Tolkien created Middle-earth and all who dwell there, Kortirion made up a story.
Notes: Sequel to previous drabble: ‘Eastfold Vale: Harvestide’
Théodred fell back, nearly choking on a candied cherry.
“So she plucked your plums!?”
It was neither the companionable understanding, nor comforting reassurance Boromir had looked for. He glowered - Théodred sniggered.
“It’s not as if I meant it to happen…”
“She… they… caught me by surprise.”
Théodred nodded, mouth full of cherries and too aware of Boromir’s wounded pride to speak. Boromir huffed his displeasure and rolled over. Outside Meduseld’s hay-loft, autumns painted leaves drifted down. A cool hand slipped over his naked hip, cupping him firmly, Théodred whispered, “Our time’s too short… forget about cherries and honey-pots.”