Work Text:
Thranduil liked lazy Sunday mornings. He took his time, waking slow with a gentle hum of news headlines from the television. He propped himself up in bed, curling himself in the silk sheets. He missed most of the news, drifting in and out as he awoke.
“Tea,” he muttered, unfurling himself, deciding to visit the café down the road. He had new books and a long afternoon with nothing but time. As he had most days. Tears prickled at his eyes, the painful reminder that he was the only one left. The only Elf to still walk the earth. And it was lonely. He tied his hair up in a loose knot to keep it from getting too wet as he stepped into the shower. Pushing his loneliness aside, he started to dream about what drink he would order today.
The café was beautiful, with dark woods and dim lights. Just enough to read by. His hair fell forward, covering his pointed ears. A book rested on his knee, crossed over his leg, with a hot cup of Egyptian Chamomile tea in his hand. It was peaceful.
He observed the other customers. Most people paid him no mind, letting him sit in the shadows and peer over the rim of his cup.
But today, someone else was staring at him. Gorgeous blue eyes, dark hair, a large coffee. Thranduil swallowed hard and looked down, only risking a few quick peeks at the man.
“Do I know you?”
The voice startled Thranduil, nearly spilling his tea. “I..I’m sorry?”
“You keep staring. Do I know you?”
That voice, like rich leather…Thranduil felt the colour rise in his face. For a moment is glamour flickered, hints of his scar flashing through.
The other man blinked in surprise, not sure if he had seen what he thought he had. No matter, the blond was beautiful. He almost didn’t seem human.
“No, I’m sorry,” Thranduil murmured. “I like to watch people…”
“I’m Richard.”
“Thran,” his voice just above a whisper.
“Interesting name. You’re not from around here, are you?”
“You could say that…” He took a sip of his tea to hide a small smile on his lips.
Richard scrawled something on a napkin and handed it to Thranduil. “Call if you want to have dinner with me sometime.”
And with that, the darker haired man was gone.
A few days later, Thranduil was laughing, sharing a bottle of wine and a delicious meal with the man he met. He felt happier than he had in decades; though he was nervous. He liked Richard, he liked his long legs and rich eyes and soft hair. He liked the way his voice washed over him. Thranduil tried not to let worries creep in. Richard was mortal, had no knowledge of the Elves. What would he say?
The Elf took a sip of wine, and as he set down the glass, he felt fingertips brush against his. A slight pink blush crept over his face, as he tucked his hair behind his ear.
“You have pointed ears?” Richard asked, curious. The blush intensified, Thranduil scrambling to cover his ear again.
“I was born with them.”
“They add to your beauty.”
“I’m not beautiful…”
“You are. You’re unlike anyone I’ve seen. You’re full of effortless grace and you….you’re elegant.”
In a swift, fluid motion, Thranduil stood and kissed Richard. The other man just stared, amazed at his luck.
They finished dinner too fast for their liking. Thranduil invited him home for coffee, but the moment they were in the front hall, lips collided and coats were shrugged off. Heated kisses, soft moans of pleasure. Thranduil hadn’t felt like this in ages.
The bed was soft, inviting, the silk of the sheets feeling cool and delicious against their hot skin. Thranduil craved the feeling of Richard’s skin on his. He stroked the dark hair on the man’s chest, following it down to his cock. The other man moaned at the contact, kissing Thranduil with more passion.
“Thran,” he moaned, running his hands over the lithe body beneath him.
“My name is Thranduil,” he moaned back.
Richard grinned a little, tucking a strand of blond hair behind his pointed ear, and moaning his name in a whisper. The Elf shivered, pressing his hips against the other man. Richard started to rut against him, trying to get more friction.
Thranduil felt lost in passion, clinging to the tall man above him, crying out in pleasure. His cock ached, dripping from desire. This man, this sexy man wanted him. “Faster,” he whispered. “Harder.”
Richard took no time to follow the command, moving his hips faster. His blue eyes flashed with lust and, Thranduil hoped, a bit of love too.
Fire pooled in his stomach, orgasm imminent. Thranduil moaned out a warning and Richard thrust harder, pushing both men over the edge.
Thranduil clung to the other man, tears in his eyes. Richard was on his back, panting hard with his eyes closed. “Has it been a while?” He looked over, suddenly alert. “Thranduil…your face!”
“Oh God,” the other man tried to hide the scars that ran on his cheek. “Fuck, you weren’t supposed to see this.”
“What happened?” Richard cupped his face, worried.
With a sigh, Thranduil sat up, cuddling with the blankets. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m not a human like you. I’m an Elf. I used to rule a place called Mirkwood. This scar, it came from a battle, lifetimes ago.”
Richard sat up, listening as Thranduil recounted his life, his struggles, his loneliness.
“So I’ve been here, all these years.” He finished, wiping tears away. “You can go if you want.”
Richard shook his head, pulling the Elf into a tight embrace. “No. I’m staying right here. You will never be alone again.”