One Day, On The Way To Helm’s Deep
Summary: Boromir submits to his king.
Warning(s): Spanking; D/s; M/m; graphic sex; canon violence mentioned; Spoilers for LoTR.
###
Aragorn woke up with dawn's light and immediately began making preparations so they could leave the inn, making sure their rations were replenished and that their horses were well-rested, so they could continue on their quest to find the hobbits.
Boromir had woken not long after Aragorn, though he moved a bit more slowly due to his wounds. He helped as much as he was able; probably more than he was able, since he wanted to be useful and not hinder their progress. He swallowed down his pain and kept his voice and movement as natural as possible.
Aragorn didn't fail to notice the stiff way that Boromir was moving and, aware of the other man's wounds, he turned to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You need to rest. If you push yourself too much, you will reopen your wounds." His voice was clearly worried.
"I'll rest when we're moving.... Assuming we are riding horses?" Boromir answered glibly, ignoring the concern. He didn't deserve it.
"You will rest now," Aragorn said, his voice firm. He kept his words quiet, so that he wouldn't draw attention from Gimli or Legolas, but he was prepared to stand his ground on this.
Boromir blinked at the tone. While he wanted to help, he wanted to obey his liege as well. Sighing, he looked around. "Where shall I rest?" he asked, afraid Aragorn would send him back into the inn. If he was there, it would be very easy to leave him behind. He wouldn't blame them if they did; it would be less chance of him holding them up.
Aragorn nodded towards one of the stumps that wasn't too far from the horses. "You don't need to go inside the inn. Rest outside here," he said.
"Yes, m'lord..." Boromir said deferentially and walked over to the stump. Since he wasn't going to be allowed to help no matter what, he gave up trying to hide how he felt and actually hobbled over. He sank onto the stump with a wince and a wheezing breath.
Aragorn eyed Boromir with obvious worry, keeping watch over the other man as he finished the preparations for them leaving.
Boromir had never felt more useless than he did watching the other three men prepare for the journey. But he didn't defy Aragorn's order. He was beginning to worry he'd have difficulty standing back up once he was told to mount his horse.
Legolas glanced at Aragorn. "Gimli and I have finished our preparations. Is there anything else that should be taken care of before we depart?"
"I don't believe so," Aragorn answered. Glancing at Boromir, he added, "I will have Boromir ride with me." At least that way, he could make sure the other man didn't strain his wounds.
"I can sit a horse on my own..." Boromir did protest this time. It felt too much like being a child, or a distressed maiden, to sit in front of Aragorn on his mount.
"You are still injured," Aragorn replied. "And I don't want to risk you injuring yourself further. You will ride with me."
Boromir swallowed hard, his pride falling in the face of Aragorn's insistence. He was afraid if he continued to argue, he would be left behind, since Aragorn was of the belief that he needed coddling while he was mending. "Where do you want me?" he said, his unhappiness at the order clear, even if he wasn't arguing.
"In front of me," Aragorn answered, moving over to Boromir so that he could help the other man onto the horse.
"Of course..." Boromir's whispered mutter was louder than he'd intended and carried to the other three. He blushed darkly and moved to get onto Aragorn's horse, not saying anything at receiving help. He had to admit he needed it, as the wounds pulled as he climbed up and he couldn't stop the gasp of pain the movement caused.
Aragorn eyed Boromir worriedly at the gasp of pain, but didn't comment on it. He climbed up behind the other man, settling himself in place and carefully reaching for the horse's reigns.
Boromir straightened up and tried to hold himself stiff so that he wouldn't hinder Aragorn. Feeling the man's warmth behind him, his arms bracketing him in a protective 'cage', was disconcerting; not because it was unpleasant but because it went a warmth through him that he hadn't been expecting. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat and stiffened in an effort not to lean on Aragorn.
"Don't worry about leaning into me." Aragorn murmured the words into Boromir's ear. "You'll hurt yourself even more if you force yourself to stay stiff and unyielding." He checked to make sure Legolas and Gimli were both ready and then set the horse into a gentle movement.
Boromir grasped the pommel in front of him as the horse began to move, jostling back into Aragorn's chest. Wincing, he had to admit Aragorn was right. Even the few seconds he'd been holding stiff had caused pain to flare. Reluctantly, he relaxed back against the older man, letting the Ranger take the majority of his weight.
Aragorn made sure Boromir wouldn't fall and kept from jostling the other man's wounds. Otherwise, he let his arms rest gently against Boromir's thighs, fingers brushing over the other man's legs whenever he had to move the horse.
Boromir had never felt so safe while feeling so uncomfortable in his life. Every movement Aragorn made drew his attention. He felt hot every spot where his body touched the other man; cold where ever they didn't touch. He didn't know if he had a fever, or if... it had to be a fever.
Aragorn kept most of his attention on their surroundings, but he also made sure to keep watch over Boromir too. He didn't stop the accidental touches; actually, allowed his fingers and hands to keep brushing against the other man's legs.
Boromir found his breath catching every time Aragorn's fingers brushed his legs, the touch not high enough to be inappropriate, but still high enough to cause his stomach to flutter. He could only hope Aragorn didn't notice the effect he was having on him, though he doubted he was that lucky. He shifted slightly, trying to calm down before it became visibly evident that he liked the touching. It didn't help. All it did was press his back closer against Aragorn's chest and cause him to warm again. Letting out a tiny whimper, he gave up and just let himself slump back into Aragorn and tried to adjust his tunic to hide any reaction he might have. The effort of keeping himself upright, not relying on Aragorn too much, had tired him rather quickly and he found himself yawning.
"You can sleep," Aragorn said softly against Boromir's ear. "If anything happens, I will wake you," he promised. His hands were resting lightly on Boromir's legs by now, fingers gripping almost unconsciously.
Boromir shifted again. He didn't think he could sleep as long as he was afraid of his own body reacting in ways that would possibly disgust the men he rode with. "I'm chilly..." he said, as an excuse why he didn't sleep.
Aragorn didn't respond with words. Instead, he removed his own cape and carefully draped it over Boromir, adjusting it so that as much of the other man was covered as possible.
Boromir blinked at the action and then sighed. He hadn't been lying about being chilly, even if it was an excuse; and the added warmth caused his drowsiness to seep through him. He blinked several times before finally slumping back into Aragorn and falling into a light sleep. Since he was no longer trying to control his reactions, his body quickly responded to the touches that he'd been fighting a response to. Luckily, the cape covered him.
Aragorn had noticed Boromir's reactions, but he did nothing about them, knowing that someone's body could respond unconsciously to something. He didn't try to wake the other man, hoping Boromir would rest and feel better for it.
Boromir wouldn't have thought he could sleep on a moving horse, but he trusted Aragorn to keep him safely on the animal and he was so tired, he slept without interruption until the group stopped to make camp, letting the animals graze before it was too dark to do so and cook a warm dinner for them. They'd decided to make camp in an empty cave (Gimli and Legolas had explored it far enough to discover it only had one opening and that there was nothing living there. It would enable one of them to keep watch while the others slept). He sat groggily to the side of the cave entrance while Legolas went to get water and Gimli got the fire going. He couldn't help but notice Aragorn had placed his sleeping roll next to his own.
Legolas was quick in his errand and returned with five full skins of water. He handed one of the skins to Aragorn. "If you wish to clean his wounds. I can refill this in the morning." He went to bring the four horses into the cave with them, leading them to the back so that they would be safe from potential predators.
Gimli nodded. "Dinner will be done in a bit; if you want to take care of the wounds right now, then we can eat, then the lad can rest while I take first watch."
"Thank you," Aragorn replied, to both elf and dwarf, before turning to Boromir. "Can you remove your tunic yourself? Or do you need help?" he asked, his concern obvious.
"I want to try, at least..." Boromir admitted. He hated feeling weak and like a burden. He drew his tunic up, but half-way over his shoulders, he had to stop and take several deep breaths. "I... need help..." he whispered reluctantly, but obviously in pain. His pride took another hit.
"There is no shame in needing help." Aragorn moved over to carefully help Boromir remove his tunic. "You are fortunate that you are still alive."
Boromir swallowed as his upper torso was bared to view. The bandages wrapped around him were bloody. He knew he was fortunate to be alive. He was fortunate to be able to move, for that matter. "I am a burden to you..." he whispered forlornly.
"You are not a burden," Aragorn disagreed, beginning to wet the bandages to make them easier to remove. "You are wounded. You will recover. It is a far better outcome than it could have been."
"You are kinder than I deserve..." Boromir said quietly. Knowing what he'd done before becoming wounded, he knew he likely deserved death. That he hadn't died and that the other three were caring for him was more mercy than he'd expected.
"That is not true. You deserve kindness. You deserve to be treated well." Aragorn began to carefully remove the bandage, so that he could clean and treat the wounds.
Boromir watched quietly, not vocally responding to the words. He didn't feel up to an argument, but didn't feel like he could agree to what Aragorn said either. He looked down at the wound as the older man cleaned it. It appeared to be scabbing over, finally and there wasn't any sign of infection. "You have kept it from going septic..." he acknowledged.
"It is healing well," Aragorn agreed. "It will help if you avoid straining it as much as possible."
"So... I will be riding in front of you again on the morrow..." Boromir stated softly. He had no doubt that was what Aragorn would require. He flushed as his body reacted again in remembrance of how it had felt to have the older man at his back. He turned so that Legolas and Gimli wouldn't see; Aragorn was too close to hide it, though. Clearing his throat, he whispered an apology. "...Apologies, liege...."
"No apologies," Aragorn murmured. "Your body is reacting. It is not a bad thing and you do not need to be ashamed."
"I cannot see how you can be so kind. I'm sure it must be unwelcomed to you. And the timing is wholly inappropriate..." Boromir swallowed, reaching for his tunic since Aragorn had finished bandaging. Then looked at it hopelessly when he realized he needed help. "I am as helpless as a child," he muttered in frustration.
"I would not say that it is unwelcome." Aragorn moved to help Boromir into the tunic once more. "You will not remain helpless. You will heal fully," he promised.
"But until then... I am helpless as a child and a burden..." Boromir was on his way to fully feeling sorry for himself, along with feeling guilty.
"You are not a burden," Aragorn repeated. "You need help, but it will only be temporary."
"I feel a burden..." Boromir muttered. "Can't even clothe myself."
"You need to give yourself time to heal," Aragorn said.
Boromir sighed. "I have never been a good patient," he admitted.
"You would not be the first," Aragorn commented.
"This is the first time I have been with someone capable of making me be careful," Boromir admitted.
"And I fully intend to do so, to the best of my ability," Aragorn said.
Boromir blushed and looked down. "Aye... I know that is true. I will do my best to obey, my liege. But I often lose my battles with my own willfulness."
"I believe I can outlast you," Aragorn said simply. "I will make sure you do nothing more to hurt yourself further."
Boromir gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, before glancing toward where Gimli and Legolas now sat around the fire.
"Dinner is ready..." the dwarf announced gruffly.
"Thank you." Aragorn stood and offered his hand to help Boromir up and closer to the fire.
Boromir took the offered hand and moved to the fire with Aragorn. Gimli had already cut a portion of meat for each of them, putting it on one plate.
Aragorn sat and helped Boromir to sit as well, so they could eat.
Boromir ate everything he'd been given. Blood loss left him very hungry. He didn't complain when Legolas silently put a second portion onto the plate for him.
Aragorn finished eating his food in silence, taking a drink from the waterskin.
Boromir finished his own food, then took a swig of water. The warmth of the fire and a full belly caused him to get sleepy again, to his chagrin. Yawning widely, he attempted to clean up his own mess.
"Aye... laddie. I will clean up. You go sleep!" Gimli ordered.
Boromir frowned, getting ready to argue.
"Don't argue," Aragorn directed. "Your body's still healing. You need to rest."
Boromir stopped immediately, before he could say anything, with his mouth open. Then he sighed and slumped. "Yessir," he mumbled, dejectedly moving to his bed-roll. He noted his roll was very close to Aragorn's; most likely so the Ranger could keep eye on him.
Aragorn moved over to his roll, looking towards Gimli and Legolas. "Wake me when it's my turn to take watch," he said.
Legolas smiled. "It may be better for you to let us keep watch. You focus on our friend. I suspect you will need all your energy to do that."
Boromir blushed at the implications that he would be that difficult.
Aragorn nodded his thanks. "If you need me to take watch, then I will. Otherwise, I will focus on Boromir."
Legolas nodded, turning toward Gimli so they could decide who would take first watch.
Boromir had carefully crawled into his bed-roll, watching through half-closed eyes as Aragorn got into his own bedding. They were close enough; Aragorn could pull him close as when they'd been on the horse. He wondered, was that an accident?
Aragorn settled in his own bedroll and reached out, gently drawing Boromir closer to him, so that they were pressed together.
Boromir swallowed at feeling himself drawn to Aragorn, his back to the older man's chest. He could feel his body slotting into position easily, as if it belonged there. There wasn't any part of him from the neck down that wasn't touching the Ranger. He was grateful for the blanket that was draped over both of them, as it covered what was becoming a common reaction to being pressed against Aragorn. Sighing silently, he carefully and quietly pressed the palm of his hand against the 'problem' in hopes that it would ease up and he could sleep.
Aragorn let his hands wrap around Boromir's waist, mindful of his wounds, and pulled the other man closer to him. "You need to try and sleep," he murmured. "It will help."
"I am trying," Boromir whispered, a hint of frustrated embarrassment tinging his words. He pressed his palm a little harder.
"You're too injured for me to help you with that right now," Aragorn said. "But later, once you have recovered...."
Boromir stifled a groan, wondering how those words were supposed to help him so he could sleep. Just the thought of Aragorn 'helping' caused him to become fully erect, undoing the little bit of help palming himself had done. Swallowing hard, he tried to think of anything that would kill the arousal. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on view), that wasn't difficult. Remembering Frodo running from him and Merry and Pippin being taken by Orcs was a real mood killer. He immediately deflated. Of course, now he couldn't sleep due to guilty worry.
"You must sleep, Boromir," Aragorn whispered in his ear. "It's important you rest."
"I am trying, my liege..." Boromir's voice caught. He wasn't aroused anymore, but his thoughts were such that he now could not release the guilt, sadness and fear that they would not succeed and the little ones would be forever lost. And it would be his fault. The hopelessness was clear in his voice, quiet as he was.
"We will find them," Aragorn promised. "Do not lose hope." He held Boromir a bit closer, a bit tighter. "Don't punish yourself for what was outside of your control."
"It is difficult not to. Had I been stronger... better... they might be with us yet," Boromir whispered sorrowfully. He didn't pull away from Aragorn, though. He relaxed back into the older man and wearily closed his eyes. Even as guilty and heartsick as he felt, he was still wounded. He fell into a fitful sleep.
Aragorn slept lightly, so that he'd be aware if Boromir needed him. When Dawn's light filled the cave, he gently squeezed Boromir's shoulder. "I will check your wounds and then we will prepare to leave."
As much as he had rested, it still hadn't been peaceful. Boromir said nothing to Aragorn's words, just nodding mutely. He'd fallen into a dark mood.
Legolas glanced at Gimli, then at Aragorn. "We will take the horses out to graze and get water while you tend his wounds." He left it unsaid that they would give privacy so Aragorn could do whatever was needed to get Boromir's thinking clear. "When you are ready to go, just step out of the cave and we will bring the horses."
"Aye... I could do with some cold, clear mountain stream..." Gimli said, gathering his equipment and taking the rein of two of the horses.
Aragorn nodded to Legolas and Gimli, but kept his full attention on Boromir as the elf and dwarf left them alone. Finally, he spoke. "I can see that your rest has not been peaceful. I know your mind and heart are in turmoil with dark thoughts. I will help you with those as well."
"I do not think anyone can take these dark thoughts from me. I cannot escape them..." Boromir said despondently.
Aragorn squeezed Boromir's shoulder gently. "When we were at the Inn, I took control then. I will do so again."
Boromir swallowed at the implications, but didn't argue. He didn't think it would help, but maybe just giving up control to Aragorn would help. Maybe. "You are my liege. I'll obey if that is what you deem best..." His voice caught uncertainly.
"I believe you need help. I believe you cannot let go of this guilt and darkness alone." As he spoke, Aragorn began to carefully check Boromir's wounds. "Am I wrong?" he asked.
Boromir swallowed, his gaze falling toward the ground. "No, liege... you are not wrong," he whispered reluctantly. He held still while Aragorn checked his wounds. He was healing well, with no infection.
Aragorn checked and rebandaged the wounds, telling Boromir softly, "There is no sign of infection and you are healing well." He then sat down on the floor of the cave and carefully drew the other man across his lap.
Boromir shut his eyes tightly in shame that he was unable to keep himself under control enough that Aragorn felt it necessary to punish him in this manner again. He didn't fight it, though. He lay over the older man's lap, accepting his decision and giving him control. He hadn't put his tunic back on yet, so made certain it was under him to protect the bandages from becoming dirty. The tunic was already covered in the previous day's travel.
Aragorn adjusted Boromir enough to make sure that his position was as comfortable as possible, then pulled his leggings down. Taking a firm grip on Boromir's waist, he lifted his hand and let it fall in the first hard smack that he then repeated.
Boromir couldn't stop the whimper as his bottom was bared. He was now pretty much naked over his liege's lap, having his bare arse smacked like someone who wasn't an adult seasoned warrior. His emotions had already been morose, sad, and guilty; now, they rapidly plummeted to where he felt completely helpless and out of control of anything. He began to squirm from a sudden floundering fear; if he wasn't in control, he was adrift and lost.
Aragorn wrapped his arm a bit tighter around Boromir's waist, completing a full circuit of smacks before he paused to gently rub the skin he'd just smacked. "You don't need to fear anything, Boromir. I will not let you fall."
Boromir quivered in place, the fear holding onto him for a few moment's longer before the gentle rubbing and Aragorn's words broke through. Letting out a tiny sob, he slumped in submission, reaching back with one hand. He desperately needed to hold on to Aragorn. Even if he wasn't in control of the situation, he needed to know he was at least allowed to hold on.
Immediately and without hesitation, Aragorn took hold of Boromir's hand, squeezing it gently. He rubbed a bit longer and then resumed smacking again for a full circuit before pausing once more to rub the heated skin.
Boromir wasn't squirming or struggling by this point. He was gripping Aragorn’s hand tightly and accepting his liege's discipline. He let out tiny whimpers when the sting began to burn, then ache, but he remained pliant and relaxed except for his grip. He deserved this. Needed it.
"I have you, Boromir. I know the darkness is there, but I won't let you face it alone. You are not alone," Aragorn promised, continuing to rub as he spoke. On the last word, he started a third circuit of smacks, this time going a fraction harder and a bit faster.
Boromir heard, but before he could think of how to respond, Aragorn was smacking harder and faster. He couldn't have stopped his reaction if he'd wanted to; he didn't want to. Letting out a choked sob, he suddenly went limp, completely loose, falling over an edge and giving himself completely into Aragorn's care, physically, emotionally, mentally; he was Aragorn's to command. Tears streamed from his eyes as he accepted Aragorn's ownership of him... accepted the promise that Aragorn wouldn't let him be lost and alone.
Seeing Boromir's reaction, Aragorn stopped the spanking. He carefully moved Boromir up and into his arms, wrapping the other man in a hug that was tight without aggravating his wounds. One hand rubbed gently over his back; the other his bottom.
Boromir turned his face into Aragorn's chest and nuzzled, cuddling close. He wasn't dropped, not completely, but he was meek and highly suggestible. He'd obey Aragorn without question and would feel the need to be close to the other man for a while longer.
Aragorn rubbed and stroked a little bit longer, just holding onto Boromir. He pressed a gentle, affectionate kiss to the side of the other man's head, then tugged his leggings back into place and stood them both up. He wrapped his arm around Boromir's waist, fingers putting a gentle pressure against his backside, as he led the other man from the cave.
Boromir grabbed his tunic right before Aragorn stood them up. It really was too dirty to put over his wounds again. He listed towards Aragorn as they walked, uncaring that the other man was possessively touching his backside in view of the other two. Or that there were tear streaks on his face.
Legolas looked up and frowned. "Let me take five minutes to wash that tunic. I am certain Aragorn will cover you with his cape while it dries."
"If ye are washing his shirt, laddie, ye may as well wash his breeches and small clothes as well. If he'll be sitting under a cape..." Gimli interjected, with a snort.
Legolas nodded, but looked at Aragorn expectantly. They may not have 'five minutes' to take.
Aragorn nodded. "We can take a short while longer." He turned to Boromir and helped the other man out of his clothes, draping his cape over the other man to shield his nakedness. As he kept watch, though, he wrapped his arm around Boromir's waist once more, letting his arm slide under the cape so that bare hand was resting against bare skin.
Boromir blushed, but didn't say anything. He continued to lean toward Aragorn, needing the closeness. It was comforting to have skin on skin contact.
It didn't take long for Legolas to return. He draped the wet clothing over Boromir's mount, expecting that the other man would be riding in front of Aragorn again.
By that point, Gimli had loaded and strapped everything to the horses. All that was left to do was get on the horses and ride.
Boromir waited until Aragorn had situated the cape so that it would cover his front. Then, he got up onto the horse in front of the older man, bare back and bottom pressed against Aragorn.
Aragorn shifted Boromir enough that he could feel the warmth of the other man pressed as tight against him as possible. Then, he set the horse into a gentle trot after the others.
Boromir leaned back against Aragorn. His bottom was sore and pressing tight against the other man reignited the sting, but he was glad for it. He snuggled back and closed his eyes. Of course, his body reacted to the closeness again, the lack of clothing intensifying the feelings that originally aroused him. He didn't bother trying to stop or hide it.
Boromir's reactions didn't worry or bother Aragorn. Instead, he wrapped his arm more snugly around Boromir's waist, keeping the cape covering his front even if the other man's entire back side was bare and pressed against Aragorn.
Feeling safe, protected, Boromir allowed himself to fall asleep in Aragorn's arms.
***
They'd met up with Gandalf and discovered that the Uruk-Hai who'd taken Merry and Pippin had been slain. Despite fears that the hobbits had been killed along with them, the tracks had made it clear that Merry and Pippin had escaped.
Boromir's wounds were healing well, but Aragorn still rode with the other man as they rode to Edoras.
Boromir hadn't bothered arguing that he was capable of riding his own horse. Aragorn would decide when he was healed enough. Still... when they'd found themselves in the midst of battle, he'd quickly jumped from the horse so Aragorn was free to move and fight. He'd found himself a spot that was more protected, but still open enough where he could also contribute to the fight. As a result, he saw the moment Aragorn went over the cliff. "No... no... no..." he said, in worried shock, before running toward the last spot he saw Aragorn, ignoring the remnants of the battle.
Despite falling from the cliff, Aragorn hadn't been harmed; only dazed and his horse had found him. He carefully mounted Brego, intending to either return to battle...or to his companions, if the fighting was over.
Boromir had luckily noticed Aragorn climbing up and remounting his horse, otherwise he would have been distracted and missed the Orc bearing down on him. He managed to stop the sword as it swung toward his neck, jarring his wounds. He winced and continued to fight. He would be feeling sore after, but at least he was holding his own.
Aragorn quickly reached Boromir's side, battling and killing more orcs.
By the time the last orc was dead and Boromir was able to look up and around, he and Aragorn were alone on the battlefield and a long way from where the battle had begun. His own horse was gone with the rest of their troop.
Aragorn glanced around the battlefield and quickly slipped off his own horse, moving to Boromir's side. "How are your wounds feeling?" he asked.
"I don't believe they reopened... but I will be sore once I settle for the night," he admitted.
"I will check," Aragorn stated. He placed a hand on Boromir's shoulder and led the other man to his horse.
Boromir let himself be led. "Yes, liege..." he agreed.
Aragorn helped Boromir up onto the horse and then climbed up himself, wrapping his arms around Boromir's waist and letting his hands rest on the other man's thighs.
"How long before we catch up to them?" Boromir asked quietly.
"We might not catch up with them before they reach Helms Deep," Aragorn answered. "And we will need to stop for the night." He set the horse to a gentle trot.
Boromir sighed. "All my gear is on my horse... which is presumably with Legolas and Gimli," he commented.
"You will be able to share my supplies," Aragorn replied.
"Yes, liege. When will we stop?" Boromir asked.
"Once we have shelter away from the battle," Aragorn answered. "I do not want to come across any orcs who were separated from the main army."
"Of course..." Boromir said softly. He was watching carefully to make sure they weren't ambushed.
Aragorn's own attention was as much on Boromir as it was on the surrounding area, every so often touching or rubbing Boromir's legs or arms.
Boromir swallowed hard at the touch. When he'd been recovering, it'd been easy to blame his body's reaction on the fact he was weakened and, of course, would 'need' the safety of Aragorn's strength. Or something like that. Now? He was healed enough that he'd been able to fight in the battle and was only a little sore and winded. But his body was still reacting to his king. He couldn't blame it on being weak now. He did his best to ignore it.
Aragorn didn't speak as he directed the horse. He did keep touching, stroking and squeezing Boromir, though. He might be on his guard, but he was also giving attention to the other man.
Boromir considered it a test of his ability to focus on the task at hand, watching for trouble, while Aragorn's hands kept up the distracting attention. By the time Aragorn decided they were in a safe enough place to camp and had stopped, he was breathing raggedly and shifting uncomfortably every few seconds. He was fully aroused and couldn't blame it on anything but the fact he liked Aragorn touching him.
Once they had the camp set up, Aragorn turned to Boromir. "I will check your wounds now," he said seriously. "Then we can eat."
"Yes, liege..." Boromir’s voice was husky and rough and he had to clear his throat. He walked to Aragorn, standing within the light of the fire, and carefully removed his tunic. The wound hadn't reopened. In fact, the skin around it was only slightly pink and puckered where the scar would be. It had healed as cleanly as a wound of that nature could heal.
Aragorn checked the wounds thoroughly before saying, "While I'm sure it will be sore, it hasn't reopened. In fact, the wound has healed as cleanly as it should. No sign of an infection."
"I was taken good care of. I am not surprised it has healed cleanly..." He swallowed again.
"I'm glad," Aragorn said. "We will eat now." He went to retrieve his rations.
Boromir took a slow breath and pulled his tunic back on, happy to be wearing it as it helped hide his erection. He wasn't sure how he felt about Aragorn not commenting on it. Relieved he was ignoring it, or embarrassed that it had to be ignored.
Aragorn retrieved the rations he had and shared them between the two of them, before saying softly, "How your body reacts...there's no shame in it, Boromir."
"Maybe not, liege, but I can't imagine it is welcome." His voice was soft and he stared at the ground.
"I haven't said that, have I?" Aragorn asked quietly.
Boromir blinked, looking up with surprised uncertainty. "N... no, sire. I... I just thought... you and the Lady Arwen... and... " He stumbled through his words, suddenly not so certain of himself. He'd thought Aragorn spoken for and that, because of that, he could not be interested in Boromir.
Unless it was only physical. A way to ease an itch till he could return to his love. Boromir had never been a means to ease 'an itch' before; he was the Steward's son. Anyone who had been with him had been after more. Aragorn would be the first who didn't actually want or need him for anything but that base need, assuming his words meant he wanted to fuck Boromir. He could have just said that to keep Boromir from falling into an embarrassed, guilty state. Boromir didn't know which would be more painful; Aragorn wanting to be physical without any emotional attachment, or Aragorn lying about possibly wanting physical connection when he only emotionally cared as a friend. Boromir knew, in that instant, what he felt was more than physical, but he hated that Aragorn would think him so weak that he would lie to try and protect him from his own attraction.
He didn't say any of this, but his face went through a series of contortions that made it easy for Aragorn to hazard a guess what he was thinking.
"I am no longer with Arwen," Aragorn answered. "She will travel with her father to the Undying Lands." He reached out and gently rubbed his hands down Boromir's arms as he looked into the other man's eyes. "I have feelings for you, Boromir. I realized when you nearly died. I couldn't lose you."
"You... have feelings for me...?" Boromir asked, in a confused tone. He couldn't help but feel stupid, but he was having a hard time transitioning from his belief that Aragorn was with Arwen to the knowledge the older man wanted him... as more than just a body to release in and as more than just a brother-in-arms.
"I love you," Aragorn replied. "I would have cared for you and treated your wounds even if I didn't, but you must have noticed I've been drawing you closer to me than has been necessary."
Boromir swallowed at that, tears coming to his eyes as relief at the words caused a tension, he hadn't been aware of carrying to suddenly disappear. "I had noticed..." His voice caught. "I had thought it was my own desires and need causing me to imagine what was not there."
"You are not imagining anything," Aragorn replied gently, wrapping his arms around Boromir. "I have only avoided acting until now out of fear of making your wounds worse."
Boromir found himself moving forward into Aragorn's embrace, his erection pressing firmly against the older man's thigh. He wrapped his arms around the king's waist and whispered, "I remember you saying you would take care of me if it weren't for my wounds... I am embarrassed to admit I did not understand at the time." He blushed. "I have been very confused and foolish...."
Aragorn let one hand move to Boromir's face, raising the other man's head and kissing him, a firm press of lips against Boromir's. "You were close to dying," he whispered, the memory turning his voice hoarse with emotion.
Boromir gave a hesitant smile as he kissed back, whispering against Aragorn's lips, "Are you making excuses for my foolishness?"
Aragorn kissed him a bit deeper, allowing himself to taste the other man's lips, one hand gently clasping Boromir's cheek as his other moved down to cup his backside. "You were unsure and it was not safe for me to act fully before," he murmured. "Now, there is no need for hesitation."
Boromir sighed softly, opening up to the kiss and letting his face rest against Aragorn's hand. He let out a needy whine at the possessive yet gentle actions.
Tugging Boromir closer, Aragorn stripped the other man of his clothes, slowly and allowing himself to touch and stroke bare skin as it was uncovered.
By the time he was standing in front of Aragorn naked, Boromir was quivering from arousal and need. He didn't hide it from the king... Aragorn could see exactly how strongly he affected the younger man.
Aragorn wrapped his arms around Boromir once more, letting his hands slide down the other man's back and over his bottom, gently squeezing it. He kissed Boromir again, pressing their bodies closer together.
Boromir brought his own arms up, letting his hands grip onto Aragorn’s tunic and holding tight as he leaned into the kiss, submitting fully and offering everything he could offer without words.
Aragorn gently pushed his tongue into Boromir's mouth, fingers gently exploring between Boromir's buttocks, touching intimately.
Boromir moaned softly, opening his mouth to Aragorn at the same time he shifted his legs to make it easier for questing fingers. He belonged to Aragorn completely and wanted to feel the older man stake his claim.
Aragorn slipped his fingers between Boromir's cheeks, pressing gently against his entrance before withdrawing. He freed one hand to reach for his supplies and took out his oil, coating one finger in it before he began to push that finger inside the other man. At the same time, he delivered a firm, though not too hard, smack to each buttock.
Boromir let out a tiny gasp, eyes flying open and searching Aragorn's face as he felt the smacks at the same time he was breached. It was obvious he didn't dislike the domineering action, though. His member twitched against Aragorn's leg, and his eyes took on a begging look.
Aragorn kissed him and then gently turned Boromir, bending the other man over to make it easier for him to add a second finger, beginning to move them both inside the other man. At the same time, he continued to deliver firm smacks to Boromir's backside, alternating between cheeks; not too hard, but enough to turn the skin warm and pink under his hand.
Boromir groaned, remaining bent in place the way Aragorn had placed him. He felt slightly floaty at the position; the fact Aragorn was in complete control and he was... he had his back to the older man, in a very vulnerable position, while Aragorn touched him in the most intimate way. He felt out of control and floaty and completely reliant on Aragorn. He liked the feeling. Liked that Aragorn held such power over him.
Aragorn continued to gently rub the two fingers inside Boromir; continued to gently smack each buttock in turn as he gave the other man time to adjust to the breaching. Then, eventually, he was adding a third finger...at the same time, he allowed the smacks to become a little bit harder, a little bit firmer, so that the sting and warmth would last past the time they were joined for.
Boromir moaned softly as Aragorn continued to move his fingers, beginning to pant and get progressively louder as the older man continued. By the time Aragorn added the third finger and began to smack harder, the moans had become needy groans. At the harder smacks, Boromir let out a tiny, almost begging sob and widened his stance, leaning forward just a small bit more so that Aragorn could be firmer, rougher, if he wanted and Boromir could hold steady in place.
Aragorn withdrew his fingers and then, grasping Boromir's hips firmly, he coated his own member in the oil and pushed inside Boromir, slowly, giving the other man time to adjust and get used to him.
Boromir groaned loudly as he felt Aragorn push his full length onto him, feeling himself stretch further than fingers to accommodate his now lover. When Aragorn was finally seated deep inside, hip bones pressing tight against Boromir's heated bottom, Boromir let out a happy sigh. Bracing himself so he wouldn't fall forward onto the ground, he said in a husky, lust filled voice, "I'm ready, my liege... please... pound me...."
Aragorn gripped Boromir's hips tightly and began to thrust deep and hard into the other man, holding Boromir steady. He leaned forward and kissed the back of Boromir's neck, gently nipping with his teeth.
Boromir groaned again, letting his head fall forward so his neck was exposed and vulnerable like the rest of him. He was in complete submission. He belonged to Aragorn and it was clear in his actions and in the sounds he was making as Aragorn claimed.
"You are mine." Aragorn whispered the words against Boromir's neck as he thrust deeper, harder, faster.
"I am yours... my life belongs to you, my liege... my king... my lover and master..." Boromir gasped out, with a tiny sob, before spilling on the ground in front of him. He managed to stay upright, though, enabling Aragon to continue with the almost punishing pace of thrusting. "It's good..." he whined, wanting to let Aragorn know he could keep going; that Boromir wanted and needed him to keep going.
"You feel good," Aragorn whispered. "So good." He continued to thrust inside Boromir, his own release coming over him quickly. His grip tightened as his orgasm rippled through him.
Boromir groaned as he felt Aragorn's release flood inside of him, warming areas that had never been warmed in that way before. "...You are the first to claim me in this manner... the last who ever will..." Boromir promised, himself and Aragorn, in a soft, sated voice.
"You are the first and only one that I have ever and will ever claim like this," Aragorn promised. "You are mine and I will not let you go."
Boromir swallowed hard at the promise, squeezing around Aragorn's member and reaching back blindly with one hand as he answered, in a voice that was rough, close to tears, "...Good. I never want to be away from you or let go. From now on, my place is by your side... being on your side."
"I will never let go of you," Aragorn promised. "No matter what happens. You will always be at my side."
"...Love you..." Boromir said, in a small, but heartfelt tone. He wasn't certain if Aragorn would think it too soon for him to feel that way, but he did.
"I love you too," Aragorn replied, wrapping his arms around Boromir's waist in a hug.
Boromir closed his eyes, relishing the closeness, feeling Aragorn pressed against him from shoulder to thigh, covering him, filling him. He didn't move from his bent over position, content to let Aragorn direct his movement; decide what would be done with him and how.
Aragorn slowly pulled out from Boromir, but still kept in physical contact with the other man. "We will share a bedroll. Rest now...though I will continue to lay claim to you," he promised.
"Yes, sire..." Boromir quickly agreed, wanting to obey. His heart thrilled at the knowledge Aragorn would keep him so close and would continue to remind him who he now belonged to. He moved to the bed roll and, giving Aragorn a tired smile, lay down, making certain the older man had room to slide in beside him once he was ready. Since Boromir was completely naked, he didn't need to ready himself for bed.
Aragorn prepared himself for bed and settled in behind Boromir, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist. He stroked, touched and caressed, but kept the touches light rather than demanding, knowing that Boromir needed the rest. Really, they both did.
Snuggling back against Aragorn, Boromir didn't take long to fall asleep. Between the battle and then orgasming for his mate, he was very sleepy. Still, it felt good having Aragorn touching him so intimately, everywhere, showing his ownership; even if it was in a non-demanding way. He made certain Aragorn knew he liked and wanted the possessive behavior to continue.
Aragorn slept in a light doze, making sure he'd be aware if anyone came across their camp, and held onto Boromir until dawn's light had him stirring, hand pressed against Boromir's stomach.
Boromir trusted implicitly in Aragorn. While he might have slept lightly under other circumstances, he was still recovering from his wounds and the day's exertions, both good and bad, had left him very tired. He slept deeply, not waking even when Aragorn's touches were less than innocent; although his body did respond to every touch, knowing even in sleep who he belonged to. As dawn began to peak into the day, he only stirred enough to press back into Aragorn, while moving his hand down to hold Aragorn's hand tightly to his stomach.
Aragorn closed his other hand over Boromir's, squeezing it gently and nuzzling into his neck as dawn's light woke him. "We will need to leave soon." He murmured the words into Boromir's shoulder.
"Mmm...I find myself wishing we could remain here... just us..." Boromir admitted, in a sleepy voice, pushing his bottom back just a little more so he was tight against Aragon.
"I know. But we must rejoin our companions at Helms Deep." Aragorn kissed the side of his throat as he added, "Though there is a way I can continue to claim you as we ride there."
"I would be very interested in hearing this way..." Boromir almost purred, slanting his head so Aragorn could kiss his throat easier. "And do we have time for you to claim me fully, at least once, before we go?"
"Yes. After we have eaten." Aragorn trailed a row of kisses along Boromir's throat as he murmured, "When we ride, I will have you in front of me on the horse, as before...but this time, it will be laying across in front of me. So, I can do what I want to you."
Boromir shivered at the words. "Anything at all..." he breathed out. "If... if you wanted... at some point you could sit me in front of you, slide me onto you, and let the horse's movement cause you to move and thrust in me..." He blushed at his own wanton forwardness.
Aragorn smiled at that. "I would like that," he agreed, sliding his hand down to gently stroke along Boromir's member.
Boromir groaned softly, his member immediately rising erect at the touch. "Please, sire?" he whispered, canting his hips in invitation. "More than once before we leave? Can't get enough of belonging to you."
In answer, Aragorn kissed the side of Boromir's neck and then rolled him over onto his stomach. He reached for the oil and coated his member with it, then slid into Boromir, holding onto his hips.
Boromir's sigh sounded a mix of filthy need, as he opened his legs for Aragorn to fit easier and arched his back so his master could bury deep. "I will feel you even when you aren't in me and crave you every moment..." he said quietly.
"I will be in you whenever it's possible to be," Aragorn promised. "I will claim you whenever it is possible to do so." He grasped Boromir's hips and began to thrust inside the other man.
Boromir let out a happy chuff at the words, reaching back and placing his own hands over Aragon's hands at his hips. This caused his chest and shoulders to lay on the ground, pushing his bottom up high. He moaned once as Aragorn began to thrust, but then he was making happy, satisfied grunts and groans in time with his lover's movement. "...So good..." He whimpered as his member grew harder and he began tightening up in preparation to release.
"You feel so good." Aragorn kissed and then gently nipped the side of Boromir's neck, thrusting deeper and harder, his own member growing and swelling as his own release drew near.
Boromir let out a long moan of release, shuddering under Aragorn as his entrance began to spasm, clenching and almost vibrating around the older man's member. He didn't collapse- his bottom remained high and positioned so Aragorn could continue his thrusting claim- but he was noticeably relaxed after the spasms subsided.
Aragorn's own release came over him moments after Boromir's had hit and his fingers gripped a little bit tighter as his orgasm rippled through him.
"...Sooo good..." Boromir almost whined as he felt Aragon's release filling him with warmth. He didn't move, waiting for his mate and master to withdraw and tell him to clean up before doing so.
Aragorn carefully pulled out of Boromir and then began to clean the both of them up before dressing himself and Boromir.
Boromir gave Aragon an almost bashful look as the older man cleaned then dressed him. "You don't plan to just own me... You plan to take care of me..." he said softly. He wasn't arguing that fact; he'd accepted that now he was Aragorn's, the other man's desire and will was the last word. Though he knew he wasn't a slave and Aragorn would not force him to anything he was completely opposed to.
"Wherever it is possible to," Aragorn said. "You are not my slave. I want to take care of you. To look after you. At least when it's just us."
"It will be hard to get used to... My father would look at my relying on you for care as weakness. That is why I made things so difficult before. But I don't want to be difficult. I want to obey you... so I will try not to let my upbringing influence me to fight you taking care of me..." Boromir said solemnly.
"I believe you will do your best." Aragorn wrapped his arms around Boromir and kissed him gently. "If it's harder than you think, it won't cause any problems between us." He moved enough to retrieve some rations for them.
"I am glad of that. I trust you won't leave me if I am difficult. Still..." He smiled crookedly. "I do not wish to be difficult."
"I know. And if you are, we will deal with it." Aragorn gave Boromir his share of the rations.
Boromir waited until Aragorn began to eat before starting to eat what he was given. "When we reach Helm's Deep... if there is a battle... will I fight by your side?" He glanced at his king. He knew Aragorn would be at the front of the battle. Would he allow Boromir to do the same? He wanted to protect his lover as much as Aragorn wanted to protect and care for him.
Aragorn nodded. "I will not allow you to be anywhere else other than by my side," he answered.
Boromir relaxed at those words. "Good. Thank you..." he said, before finishing his rations and cleaning up what little needed cleaning.
Once they'd finished cleaning up, Aragorn led Boromir over to the horse. He positioned the other man bent over the horse, as he'd promised, and then climbed up behind Boromir, settling in place before tugging the other man's leggings down, leaving his bottom bare.
Boromir flushed, but was looking forward to being at his master's mercy. He only shifted enough to insure he didn't get lightheaded from his head being lower than the middle of his body and that there wouldn't be too much strain to aggravate his wounds. He glanced over his shoulder at Aragorn and gave an innocent smile. "Yours...."
"Mine." Aragorn settled in place and began to gently rub and squeeze Boromir's bare backside and thighs as he set the horse to a gentle trot.
It took a few seconds, but Boromir shifted slightly again so the trotting didn't cause issues for him and then he just let himself relax and focus on Aragorn's thighs providing a hint of support to his body; so strong and hard and firm; and on his master's hands quickly making his bottom and thighs sensitive.
As he had when claiming Boromir the first time, Aragorn began to gently smack Boromir's bottom and thighs along with the rubbing and squeezing.
Boromir whimpered as the smacks began, then began to moan and groan along with the whimpers. He lost all track of time; it could have been a few minutes, or several hours, for all he knew, but his moans and groans and whimpers grew progressively more needy the longer Aragorn manipulated the sensitive flesh.
Aragorn began to gently dip his fingers between Boromir's cheeks, pressing gently against his entrance, adding the light touch along with the rest of the squeezing, smacking, rubbing.
Boromir groaned more loudly as Aragorn teased his hole. "Please, master...."
"Are you ready for me to take you again?" Aragorn asked softly.
"Yes, Sire!" Boromir would have been embarrassed at how eagerly needy he sounded, if he hadn't been so eager and needy to be claimed.
It didn't take much for Aragorn to prepare them both, to move Boromir so that he could slide the other man down onto his own member, settling him in place so they were seated on the horse with himself buried inside his lover.
"Mmmm... so perfect..." Boromir groaned, sounding almost drugged. He let himself lean back into Aragorn, the older man supporting him, as the horse began its slow gentle trot again. The horse's movement caused slight movement where Aragorn would start to slide out, but then would be shoved back into him. The rocking movement caused his already sensitive bottom and thighs to be spanked by Aragorn’s own hips and thighs. He began to get just as sensitive inside as he was outside.
Aragorn's own member reacted and responded, thrusting deeper inside Boromir than he'd been able to go while in the camp. Aragorn grasped Boromir's hips in a firm hold, making sure he was steady enough.
Boromir gasped as the deeper thrust, and the angle of said thrust, caused Aragorn's member to stroke firmly over a spot in him that had never been touched before. Aragorn's member stroked over that spot again and again, until Boromir was sobbing and keening, his own hands grasping at Aragorn's, squeezing inside, tight around his master's member. His own member was hard, red, swollen... the tip glistening and dripping pre-cum. Each thrust was winding him tighter and tighter.
Aragorn moved his hand round in front of Boromir, taking a hold of the other man's member. He gripped it gently and began to rub his thumb over the head, manipulating it so that their orgasms would come over them at the same time.
Boromir was beyond thought, mindless from arousal and need. The trotting of the horse was now causing his member to thrust into Aragorn's hand, at the same time as Aragorn thrust into his tight channel. And his channel was becoming tighter and tighter with each thrust. "Master... please... please..." He was sobbing by this point, so sensitive inside and out, he knew he'd be feeling Aragorn for days.
"You're mine." Aragorn whispered the words into Boromir's ear, aiming the other man's member to the side so that, when he released, it wouldn't land on the horse. "Let go." He growled the words into Boromir's ear.
Immediately upon hearing the growled order, Boromir began to spasm, shooting his release out hard and fast. His hole clenched tight around Aragorn, as if trying to pull the man deep inside and never let him go. He was sobbing and speaking gibberish, because he couldn't form coherent words. The gentle rocking of the horse was still causing his master to batter his very sensitive prostate and the action caused his orgasm to last much longer than he'd ever expected it could. Eventually, he was empty; unable to give anymore, his member flaccid in Aragorn's palm. Now, when his master rocked into him, stroking his prostate, he could only whimper helplessly, tears gently falling down his face.
Not wanting to push Boromir too much or too far, Aragorn carefully pulled out of Boromir and carefully shifted the other man round so that they were face to face. He wrapped his arms around Boromir, holding him close.
Boromir immediately wrapped his arms around Aragorn and snuggled close, nuzzling and hiding his face against his master's chest. He was feeling exceedingly needy and cuddly and as it was just them, he allowed himself to be.
"Rest, if you need to," Aragorn murmured. "I have you. I won't let you go."
Boromir nuzzled some more, saying in a small voice, "I'm going to get you... or the saddle... dirty." He could feel his master's release succumbing to gravity and beginning its exit from his body. In a way, it helped soothe where he was most sensitive.
"I can clean myself and the saddle," Aragorn replied. "I want you to sleep if you need to. Rest when you need to. I love you."
"Love you too..." Boromir's voice was still small, very submissive, and he immediately closed his eyes obeying his master and falling asleep.
Aragorn wrapped his arms tightly around Boromir, holding the other man close, as he continued on the journey to Helms Deep.
The End