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“We won’t tell,” Merry assured hurriedly, his eyes cast low, face red.
Then he kicked Pippin in the shin.
“We won’t,” Pippin confirmed, though he sounded distinctly regretful.
Boromir suppressed a resigned groan.
It would have been more efficient to fuck from behind - which usually they did.
Finding five minutes in private to appease their growing addiction to each other’s bodies was already challenging enough. As two of the largest members of the fellowship, his and Aragorn’s joined absence was easily noticed. And an Elf, a Wizard, or indeed - a Hobbit - was never too far around the bend.
But the compulsion was too great.
Boromir would sense it in the heat leaking off Aragorn’s lean frame, and catch Aragorn’s sharp eyes on himself, their glance, seemingly accidental, nevertheless dark and heavy with desire. Boromir would stare right back, the mutual understanding twisting his gut with breathless want.
And after that it was a matter of tucking away, as soon as they safely could, and - it did not matter: on grass, against a tree…
From behind was so much faster. Yank breeches down while shifting jerkins aside, grab Aragorn’s stiff cock to guide it in, and…
No more thinking, just fighting down the animal noises of their shared pleasure.
Every time that Boromir’s thoughts went strange and woozy as he walked behind Frodo, and his dreams turned dark but twinkled uncannily with gold - Aragorn could fuck it right out of him. Make Boromir but a man of flesh and blood again. Stuff his arse full of hot throbbing cock till nothing else existed. Oh, it was perfect relief.
Except Boromir preferred to watch Aragorn unravel.
To see the heir of Isildur lose himself, each time as though shocked anew just how sublimely Boromir could wring him dry - Boromir got too much glee out of this.
Face to face also allowed Aragorn to kiss him on the mouth, passionate and deep, but that - Boromir preferred not to think about that.
And so be it, that it took an extra minute to kick off his boots and strip from the waist down, so that he could spread his legs to meet Aragorn at the perfect angle and set stars exploding inside him.
Thus it was exactly like this, with Aragorn on top of him fully clothed with just breeches undone, that Boromir looked past his straining shoulder - and right into two pairs of horrified Hobbit eyes.
The fact Aragorn was grinding Boromir into the slope of the hill may have given it away, just as Boromir’s flushed face with his mouth biting the air for breath. But nothing would really beat the paleness of Boromir’s legs, stark naked either side of Aragorn’s grey-clad form.
“Don’t punish us, Strider, please,” Pippin implored twisting back against Aragorn’s steel grip on his collar. “I know you said not to go sneaking out... But I’ll be haunted by the sight for the rest of my life, that is punishment enough.”
Merry elbowed him in the ribs.
“What!”
“Don’t be rude!”
“Oh, Boromir!” Pippin suddenly cried with tearful sympathy, and twisted his hands. “I’m so sorry, truly. It must be so embarrassing for you.”
Boromir blinked, then scowled.
While Aragorn had chased down the squealing Hobbits and dragged them back, Boromir had had time to pull his own things hastily back on. But Pippin’s remark stirred the shame that had taken years to make some semblance of peace with.
“You’re going to have to explain that one,” Boromir bid dryly. “Why embarrassing specifically for me?”
What about Aragorn. Were these two impudent urchins going to stand and scorn him for taking it on his back?
The Hobbits exchanged glances.
“Um,” said Merry. “But… we’ve never seen Aragorn’s?”
“And may it stay that way!” cried Pippin. “What if they are all like that. I would never look at Big People the same again.”
“Stop it, Pip. He must be self-conscious enough about it. And I’m sure Strider is bigger anyway, look how tall he is.”
Boromir opened his mouth.
He was quite certain that the Hobbits had already turned and run when Aragorn swerved and leapt off of him. Any of Boromir's nakedness would have been revealed but for a heartbeat anyway...
Then Pippin shook his head woefully. “So smooth.”
“And so small,” added Merry.
They exchanged glances again, as though this last bit carried special mortifying significance for Boromir.
“Tiny wee toes,” groaned Pippin.
“I would hide the whole thing in boots, too, frankly,” said Merry under his breath.
“Boromir,” Pippin asked earnestly, “were you born like this or did something happen to your feet?”
Some kind of strangled noise escaped Aragorn’s lips. The look on his face was not helping.
“What? No!” objected Boromir. “Pippin, my feet are no smaller than yours,” which was true but - not a line of questioning he should be getting dragged into. He did not quite know what to do with his own face.
Pippin gave him a tight smile. “Yes, but I am half your height. How do you not fall over?”
Boromir sucked his breath.
“Aragorn, are you quite all right?” he asked darkly.
Aragorn shook his head no as he gently released the Hobbits and turned away - to attend to a sudden bout of coughing. It was bending him down quite a bit.
“Tell you what,” said Boromir, “one more comment from you two - and I shall pull off Aragorn’s boots and make you count his toes, one by one.”
“No!” they both cried at once.
Seeing the window of opportunity, the two captives then dashed for freedom.
Aragorn finally managed to straighten up. Wiping his eyes, he said to Boromir, “I am bigger than you though, that is true.”
“You wish.”
“Don’t be upset, no one would expect otherwise.” He snorted to himself again as he watched two tiny shapes disappear far in the dry grass.
Boromir stopped beside him. “Do you think… they noticed?”
Aragorn was shaking his head thoughtfully, a grin still in the corner of his mouth.
“Honestly? I wouldn’t put money either way. But I do reckon our little secret is fairly safe.”
The first words to ever acknowledge it, and he voiced them a little carefully, as though expecting Boromir to bristle up.
Boromir knew that by rights he ought to show some hint of warmth in return - and after all, they had never quite finished… But he only sighed.
That was a shared one - unlike the other little secret that he had managed to keep entirely to himself.
The now familiar shimmering, tugging pull was already making itself known in the far corner of his mind.
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The End