
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9277745.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      The_Silmarillion_and_other_histories_of_Middle-Earth_-_J._R._R._Tolkien
  Relationship:
      Fëanor/Curufin/Maedhros, Caranthir/Celegorm/Curufin/Fëanor/Maedhros/
      Maglor
  Character:
      Curufin_|_Curufinwë, Fëanor_|_Curufinwë, Maedhros_|_Maitimo, Celegorm_|
      Turcafinwë, Maglor_|_Makalaurë, Caranthir_|_Morifinwë
  Additional Tags:
      Feanorian_OT8, First_Time, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Kissing, Anal_Sex,
      Sloppy_Seconds, Gangbang, Felching, Biting, Fluff_and_Smut, Sibling
      Incest, Parent/Child_Incest
  Collections:
      Holly_Poly_2016
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-17 Words: 3443
****** The Awakening ******
by amyfortuna
Summary
     Curufinwë gets everything he's been longing for.
Curufinwë had always known these important truths: the relationship between his
father and his older brothers was a very special one that went well beyond what
other families considered normal or proper; that this gave them great joy
despite it never being discussed openly; that if he was patient and bided his
time until he came of age, he too would be taken into that relationship in due
course.
But Curufinwë Atarinkë, son of Curufinwë Fëanáro, was not patient, and never
could abide to bide his time, not when there was joy to be had or curiosity to
be satisfied, when the same longing that had clearly overcome each of his older
brothers descended in its time upon him, some five years shy of his coming of
age, at the very age his father had been when he married. The longing grew and
grew until he could hardly bear it. He began to cling to his father again like
he had not since early childhood, following him about for the sheer pleasure of
watching him move or hearing him speak.
Every touch, every compliment, spurred him on. His work, whether that was
smith-craft, the study of linguistics, or the art of public speaking, began to
outstrip all his agemates, and then to reach for the dizzying heights of his
own brothers.
Of them, Carnistir was the easiest to supersede -- he had some skill at the
forge, as had all the sons of Fëanáro, but loved neither language nor
diplomacy. Turcafinwë's fame in the hunt and his love of the wild lands beyond
the cities of Valinor meant that he had largely been given the freedom to
develop himself in areas Fëanáro did not know. Furthermore, he was Curufinwë's
favourite brother, and out of respect for that, Curufinwë did not venture to
excel in fields where he knew his beloved Turco reigned supreme.
Maitimo, his father's representative in the hustle and bustle of Tirion, the
prince-in-waiting, the caretaker of his brothers, was deep in studies that
Curufinwë knew would take much more time than he had already lived to master.
Though he loved Maitimo nearly as much as he loved their father, he could not
stand the dull round of politics, the boredom of trade negotiations, the
flattery and insincerity, any more than Fëanáro himself could. He left Tirion
to his eldest brother.
His natural talents, in fact, lined up far more with Macalaurë's, though Cáno
had a skill for music that Curufinwë knew he could not equal. When he wasn't
following Fëanáro about the forge like a young shadow, he sat with Macalaurë,
learning all he could of the history and language of their people -- for both,
of course, were wrapped up together, from the very first words any Elf had
spoken, to the speeches their grandfather had given his people in Cuiviénen, to
the newest loan-words adopted from the Teleri and the Vanyar.
And at night, in his lonely bed, he wrapped his arms around a pillow and
dreamed of the day he would never be alone again. Dreamed too, of what his
father and brothers might be doing together as the nights wore on, silver
fading into gold.
Did Fëanáro kiss each of them with heated passion? Embrace them, whisper soft
words of love and desire in their ears, slide his hands across the expanses of
their bodies, touch them in the same way he touched the beautiful gems he
created? Did he make them cry out in abandoned, ecstatic, joy? If he listened
hard, Curufinwë sometimes fancied he might be able to hear Maitimo’s shout of
delight, Macalaurë’s soft moans, Turcafinwë's roar, Carnistir’s rough bellow,
and echoed those sounds, allowing breathless gasps to escape his lips as he
stroked himself in the silvery darkness.
Curufinwë once, in Maitimo's study long ago, had come upon Fëanáro and Maitimo
locked in an embrace, blind and deaf to all else, Maitimo's mouth on Fëanáro's,
devouring each other like the world was going to end. Only after they broke
apart, flushed and panting, did Fëanáro notice Curufinwë, and when he bent to
lift him up into his arms, Curufinwë could feel Fëanáro's heart beating faster
than usual, and the bulge under his clothes that signified an erection. Maybe
it had begun then, his desire, for Curufinwë had unconsciously pressed close
against Fëanáro, seeking out the source of the need that spiralled through his
body.
Curufinwë was by no means ignorant. Each of his brothers and both his parents
had discussed what sex was with him, many times. He simply lacked practical
experience. He'd kissed a few people -- both men and women -- but never found
that his desires led him to do anything further with any of those people. The
only person he had ever asked for more from was Turcafinwë, who had smiled,
kissed him warmly with a gentle brush of his tongue over Curufinwë's lips, and
whispered, "In time, Curvo. When you're ready."
Tonight was just like every other night. As the youngest, he went off to bed
first, though he was near as tall as Macalaurë, and fully as strong as
Carnistir. At dinner, he'd caught a glimpse of a sly smile playing around the
corners of Maitimo's mouth, and the sight of it had sparked off heat inside
him. He lay naked on the cool sheets, wrapped a hand around his already-hard
cock, and pulled at himself slowly, dreaming of kissing that smile off
Maitimo's face, turning him wild and wanting.
He did not hear the door open, caught up as he was in breathless fantasies and
dreams.
The presence of another in the darkness of his bedroom should have been
startling or frightening, but almost at the same time as he jerked his eyes
open in surprise, he knew who it was. His father would never harm him or hurt
him, so he let his hand fall away from his cock, a dreamy smile dawning over
his face, as Fëanáro sat down on the bed next to him.
"Beloved," he whispered, his voice rich with desire, and Curufinwë knew the
time had come at last. A small noise of desperate want escaped him and he
tilted his face upwards in longing.
Fëanáro's mouth met his.
This kiss from his father, more so than any kiss he had been given before, was
like staring directly at the Two Trees in all their splendour, like standing in
a downpour laughing with upraised arms to the sky, like diving into a deep blue
lake with no thought for what lay within or where he might emerge. It was all-
consuming, encompassing everything.
He emerged from it with his arms around Fëanáro's neck. His father was holding
him close against his bared chest, and he was warm, his heart beating fast, the
scent of him tantalising Curufinwë, confusing his senses with love and desire.
Overcome, he lay his head down against his father's shoulder, pressing his nose
to the side of his throat, laying his lips to the pulse that throbbed there.
"I would explain it to you in full, my beloved, but I think you already
understand," Fëanáro said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "But here it is
nevertheless: I offer you, and your brothers offer you, our love in all ways,
beyond that of family or friendship. You know and bask in our love through
kinship, and through the joy of our minds in unity, and now we will give you,
if you desire it, the unity of our bodies as well."
"I desire it," Curufinwë stated, looking up, trembling all over with suppressed
longing and need. "I have tried to wait -- I have long suspected this and
envied it -- and now I can wait no longer." He took a deep breath, and Fëanáro
pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Thank you for coming to me now, for not
prolonging my impatience. I know it is too soon, I am too young, but I do not
want to wait another moment." Fëanáro smiled down at him, and Curufinwë sat up,
throwing off the light blanket that covered his body. "I am yours in body as I
am in mind and by right of kinship. Take me, claim me, have me, teach me,
awaken me, and I ask the same of my brothers. I am yours, now and for all
time."
Fëanáro kissed him again, three times, once on the forehead, once on either
cheek. "The time has come. Welcome, beloved." He slid the cover off the lamp
beside Curfinwë's bed, illuminating the room in cool blue light, which was
entrancing mingled with the silver light coming in through the windows, then
stood up and walked over to the door, holding a brief consultation with someone
just outside it. Maitimo peered through and grinned at Curufinwë. He held up a
small vial of oil in his hand, and as he swept into the room, laughed for very
joy.
"My sweet Curufinwë, at last!" Maitimo shrugged his light robe off, then,
naked, bent and wrapped Curufinwë in his arms, giving him first the sort of
all-encompassing hug that Curufinwë loved best, and then a sloppy passionate
kiss, full of affection. Turcafinwë was the only one of his brothers who had
ever kissed Curufinwë with tongue before, and Curufinwë found Maitimo's tongue
in his mouth to be an unanticipated delight that got him rock-hard instantly.
Maitimo was excellent at kissing, rough and wanting, and Curufinwë thrust his
hips against the air, seeking purchase, and found it, in Fëanáro's hands.
Fëanáro took hold of his cock as Maitimo continued to kiss him, and stroked him
with intent, in much the same way that Curufinwë often touched himself, but the
feel of it was completely different when it was his father stroking him like
that, with firm, forge-callused, hands pulling smoothly over his cock in a
regular rhythm, now and then reaching down to play over his balls very lightly,
in what might have been ticklish had Curufinwë not been so aroused he could
scarcely draw breath.
Maitimo pulled away from him a little, bright eyes shining at him. "Come for
us, Curvo," he whispered. "Come for us, this first time, and then, after a
while, again and again until we've worn you out. The others are waiting, but
this first time is just for the three of us."
Curufinwë arched into his father's hands and obeyed his brother, surrendering
to the bliss that wiped all sight from his eyes and thought from his mind.
White jets of seed spattered over Fëanáro's hands, and when Curufinwë opened
his eyes again, Maitimo was cleaning them with his tongue, pausing now and
again to exchange wet kisses with his father.
"Back with us?" Fëanáro asked Curufinwë, an indulgent smile on his face.
"Ready for more?" Maitimo added.
"Yes," Curufinwë answered to both questions, and bolder now, carried on. "I
want you to fuck me, both of you, and then Cáno, Turco, and Moryo too. I want
all of you inside me before the night is through."
Maitimo exchanged a significant glance with Fëanáro. "I told you he would be
demanding," he said, laughing. "Which of us first?" He turned back to
Curufinwë.
"Father, please," Curufinwë said simply, and Fëanáro smiled.
"It shall be so." He stood up from the bed and swiftly disrobed, letting his
garments fall where they would. On another night, Curufinwë would have cared -
- he was always very conscientious about ensuring clothing was neatly folded
and off the floor -- but tonight there was little he cared about less.
It seemed both a long while and only a moment that they fussed over him,
preparing him carefully, an oiled finger at first, then two. He slowly grew
hard again under their attentions, and drifted in a peaceful, blissful haze all
the while, eyes half open, making soft sounds from time to time. There was no
pain at any point, and Fëanáro's skilled fingers seemed to know exactly how to
touch him.
At last their hands withdrew from his body, and Maitimo slid onto the bed
behind Curufinwë, wrapping his arms around him and whispering softly in his
ear, as Fëanáro entered him for the first time, pressing deep inside slowly and
carefully with a look of utter bliss on his face. Curufinwë could feel him hard
and hot, stretching him wide, touching something inside him that made sparks go
off inside his mind with every thrust of his hips.
The thrusts were gentle at first, and Fëanáro's face was a picture of
concentration, teeth worrying his lower lip, eyebrows scrunched together.
Curufinwë watched him, seeing him for the first time as a lover, rejoicing in
the vulnerability of his face, the trust and love shining out of his eyes, and
doing his best to answer it with his own.
Maitimo, whose own erection was pressing into Curufinwë's back, reminding him
that this night was only beginning, wrapped a hand around Curufinwë's erection
and stroked him in time with their father's thrusts, whispering words that
stoked the fires inside of him to roaring flame, speaking of dreams shared and
all the delights of the future that awaited him.
"Harder," Curufinwë said at last, and Fëanáro complied, ceasing to hold back,
and thrusting into him with passionate ardour. He bent forward and kissed
Curufinwë, a kiss aflame with need, a kiss that delved into the very heart of
him and sent him flying toward the stars. All the while the motion of his hips
never stopped, fierce as a hammer on an anvil. Curufinwë, surrounded on all
sides by heated love, gave himself up to bliss for the second time that night,
feeling his father shudder to a halt and come inside him, the look on his face
overwhelmed and full of devotion.
After a moment, Fëanáro pulled out of him, seed dripping from him, and
Curufinwë would have protested the loss, but Maitimo was there to push inside
almost immediately afterwards, still holding him in his arms. He thrust up from
below, hips working hard from the start, seated on the bed like it was a
throne, Curufinwë draped over him, facing outward. Maitimo's hand was wrapped
loosely around Curufinwë's spent cock, holding him close as he fucked him.
Once Fëanáro recovered his breath, he stood, then kissed Curufinwë's forehead.
"Are you ready for the rest of them, my beloved?" he asked.
Curufinwë gave him a bright smile. "More than ready."
Turcafinwë was the next one to slip into the room. Clad only in a light robe,
he kissed Curufinwë, and then settled down onto the bed to watch Maitimo fuck
him.
Maitimo always prolonged his own pleasure where he could, and Curufinwë drifted
again in a pleasant haze as his brother fucked him, rising and falling with
each steady thrust of his hips. Outside the room, he could hear the faint echo
of a harp being played by Macalaurë, the cool notes falling in counterpoint to
each movement of Maitimo's hips. The delightful realisation that of course Cáno
knew everything that was going on in Curufinwë's bedroom lent an air of
anticipation to the song, as if Macalaurë was dreaming of the near future when
he would be the one fucking his little brother.
Next to him, Turcafinwë lay, from time to time stroking a hand across the
expanse of Curufinwë's chest and belly, or sliding down between his thighs to
touch the place where Maitimo was joined to him.
"I can hardly wait," he breathed, silver hair spilling into his face as he
gazed up at Curufinwë's splayed limbs and relaxed body. "I'm going to take you
as soon as Maitimo's done."
Curufinwë brushed the back of his hand across Turcafinwë's cheek. "Please. I
want you to."
He was almost fully hard again when Maitimo came inside him with a long drawn-
out groan, and then slid slowly out of him. Curufinwë pressed a kiss to
Maitimo's mouth as Maitimo whispered a blissful, "Well done, little one," to
him, and turned to Turcafinwë.
Turcafinwë did not believe in slow, was no fan of prolonging anything, and was
clearly vibrating on the edge of need for Curufinwë. Once he had gathered his
little brother into his arms, laying him down on his back in the bed and
pressing straight into him, Turcafinwë took him hard and fast. Curufinwë lifted
his head and captured Turcafinwë's mouth with his own, rediscovering the wonder
of his lips. He pressed back into his brother's thrusts, reluctant to be even
partially separated from him.
Maitimo, after a little while, hopped off the bed, and then returned with
Carnistir and Macalaurë in tow. Fëanáro had moved into a large chair next to
the bed, and reached out to tug Macalaurë down into the chair with him, while
Carnistir climbed onto the bed, shedding his garments as he went. The rug was
now covered with clothing in various sizes and shades, but Curufinwë did not
even notice.
Caught up in sensation, nearly overwhelmed by it, his third orgasm took him
almost by surprise, and a moment later Turcafinwë came inside him, teeth at his
shoulder, marking him vibrantly. Carnistir, even more impatient than his
brother, pushed into him as Turcafinwë pulled out, dragging him onto his lap.
Fëanáro and Macalaurë, in the nearby chair, were wrapped around each other,
Macalaurë sucking one of Fëanáro's nipples avidly, and rolling the other
between his fingers. Maitimo pulled Turcafinwë into his arms, and the two
kissed lazily, content to relax together for the moment.
Carnistir's harsh breaths filled Curufinwë's ears, and he pressed his face
against his brother's shoulder, for the first time daring to use his teeth on
one of his brothers. It was no secret in the house that Moryo got off on pain,
so Curufinwë did not spare him but bit down hard. He was rewarded with a sudden
jolt of sensation, and Carnistir fucked him harder. It wasn't long until he
came, pressing Curufinwë down into the bed and giving it to him as hard as
Curufinwë had ever craved in his dreams.
Macalaurë, on the other hand, took his time. He was the last, and Curufinwë got
the impression that he wanted it that way. Rather than skipping straight to the
main course, Macalaurë toyed with him, pressing tiny kisses and bites to his
throat, chest, and belly, never hard enough to hurt much, more just sparks of
sensation in Curufinwë's overstimulated state. At last he bent and took
Curufinwë's erection in his mouth, bringing him back to full hardness before
letting him go.
"You're going to come one more time tonight," he said, and Curufinwë shivered
with delight at the quiet confidence in his voice. Then Macalaurë dipped his
head again, licking up the leaking seed that was spilling from him, try as he
might to keep it inside.
It was a long while before Macalaurë decided it was time to fuck him, and the
silver light through the windows was beginning to show the faintest hint of
gold. The light, mingled with the light from the lamp, caught in Macalaurë's
inky black hair and turned it bluish, and Curufinwë lifted himself up onto his
elbows as Macalaurë pressed into him, so that his brother could wrap his arms
around him.
Pressed close together, Macalaurë rocked against Curufinwë slow and gentle, his
hips moving in a steady, measured, pace, like the beat of a drum. Curufinwë was
beginning to feel a little sore, but the pain was transmuting to pleasure under
Macalaurë's tenderness, following the relative roughness of Carnistir and
Turcafinwë. Macalaurë slipped a hand between their bodies and stroked him with
long, firm strokes, until with a final rising wave of pleasure he came once
more, his body tensing and then releasing around Macalaurë's cock.
Macalaurë gasped once and spilled into him for what seemed an eternity. When he
pulled out, he bent down again, and licked the mingled seed from Curufinwë's
dripping hole and thighs. "We taste wonderful on you," he said, and curled up
against Curufinwë, every now and then giving him another lick.
All around him were drowsy murmurs. Turcafinwë and Maitimo dozed in each
other's arms, Carnistir was kneeling between Fëanáro's legs, alternating
between sucking at his half-hard cock and just keeping it warm in his mouth,
and behind him, Macalaurë roused every now and again to whisper some endearment
or press a kiss to his tender hole.
Curufinwë had never felt less like falling asleep in his life. He looked up at
his father, who smiled indulgently back at him, and for the first time since
his body had awakened to desire, was fully content.
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