Drabble: Strain

[claudia603]

Boromir grunted, yanking Frodo’s shirt over smooth shoulders that glimmered pale in the moonlight. He caught sight of a half-hidden pink nipple. Pressed against the rough bark of a looming tree far from the campsite, Frodo panted, lips parted.

“Will you not have me this time, Frodo?” Boromir’s arousal strained and ached against his leggings, and he shuddered with need.

“No.”

Boromir’s trembling hands slid into Frodo’s breeches, and he clasped his hips, digging his fingers in until Frodo gasped.

“Why must you torment?”

Frodo’s eyes closed with weariness. “A time will come when we need it more than now.”