And a ficlet
Yay, another bit o' stuff!
Theodred/Boromir, implied mild naughtiness.
Bravery Is Its Own Reward
“Lie down,” Théodred bade, pushing gently on Boromir’s shoulders. “Trust me - it will be easier if you are on your back.”
Boromir trusted Théodred, of course, but he could not repress a nervous tremor. “Just - be careful,” he said, staring up at the ceiling rafters.
Boromir felt a puff of laughter against his bare flesh as Théodred bent over him. “I have done this before, you know. Do not worry - I will not hurt you, and I will stop if it becomes too much.”
Careful fingers traced sensitive skin, and Boromir inhaled sharply. “There?” Theodred asked, lifting his head.
“Yes,” Boromir said, nodding and trying to relax his tense muscles.
“I will be quick,” Théodred assured him, leaning forward again to set to his task. “Take a deep breath and hold it, if it will help.”
He was as good as his word; there was a stab of sharp pain that made Boromir grind his teeth together, then Théodred straightened, grinning triumphantly. “All finished!” he declared, displaying the splinter on the flat of his blade. “A good thing I noticed you were limping, too - if it had worked much further in, removing it would not have been such an easy task. Next time, do not be so brave.”
Boromir sat up, grinning sheepishly. “My nanny always gave me a biscuit when I was brave about having my scrapes tended or splinters removed,” he said, lifting his foot to examine the sole. Théodred had made a very neat job of it - the bleeding had already stopped, and there was only a bit of a sting when he touched the small wound.
Théodred laughed and set his dagger aside. “Such courage should certainly be rewarded,” he teased, and once again leaned towards Boromir.
Theodred/Boromir, implied mild naughtiness.
Bravery Is Its Own Reward
“Lie down,” Théodred bade, pushing gently on Boromir’s shoulders. “Trust me - it will be easier if you are on your back.”
Boromir trusted Théodred, of course, but he could not repress a nervous tremor. “Just - be careful,” he said, staring up at the ceiling rafters.
Boromir felt a puff of laughter against his bare flesh as Théodred bent over him. “I have done this before, you know. Do not worry - I will not hurt you, and I will stop if it becomes too much.”
Careful fingers traced sensitive skin, and Boromir inhaled sharply. “There?” Theodred asked, lifting his head.
“Yes,” Boromir said, nodding and trying to relax his tense muscles.
“I will be quick,” Théodred assured him, leaning forward again to set to his task. “Take a deep breath and hold it, if it will help.”
He was as good as his word; there was a stab of sharp pain that made Boromir grind his teeth together, then Théodred straightened, grinning triumphantly. “All finished!” he declared, displaying the splinter on the flat of his blade. “A good thing I noticed you were limping, too - if it had worked much further in, removing it would not have been such an easy task. Next time, do not be so brave.”
Boromir sat up, grinning sheepishly. “My nanny always gave me a biscuit when I was brave about having my scrapes tended or splinters removed,” he said, lifting his foot to examine the sole. Théodred had made a very neat job of it - the bleeding had already stopped, and there was only a bit of a sting when he touched the small wound.
Théodred laughed and set his dagger aside. “Such courage should certainly be rewarded,” he teased, and once again leaned towards Boromir.