Work Text:
He had no good excuse for how he’d ended up sitting at his desk with his herald between his knees.
Oh, and his cock was in said Herald’s mouth. That was probably worth mentioning.
A particularly noisy slurp drew his attention downwards, and he found Elrond staring up at him, eyes blown wide with pleasure.
A part of him was curious where Elrond had learned to suck cock, and if he should be concerned about what was happening in his own encampment, but that part was quickly overshadowed by pleasure.
Clever fingers toyed with his balls, perfectly timed with the movement of Elrond’s tongue.
It didn’t take much before he was spilling down Elrond’s throat, and the half-elf obligingly swallowed it down. He continued sucking on his cock until he was completely emptied, then licked at him a bit, nuzzling his face into Gil-Galad’s crotch before tucking him away into his pants and lacing them back up.
Then he leaned back and smiled up at his king, seeming incredibly proud of himself.
Just as he was about to tell Elrond to drop his pants and let him return the favor, a call for a meeting came.
So it wasn’t until later, when they were both tired and ready to sleep, that he had time to do what he wanted. He sat on his bed, pulled Elrond into his lap, and plunged his hand into the front of his herald’s pants.
His fingers failed to find a cock, instead finding a soft hole. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting, certainly. He thought he’d seen Elrond pissing before - and he’d thought the youth had a cock - but it was entirely possible he’d mistaken him for his brother at a distance (he certainly didn’t make a point of watching either of the twins piss).
It didn’t matter, a cunt was just as easy to please, and soon he had a lap full of wriggling, pleading Peredhel.
He plunged his fingers inside Elrond, rubbing his thumb over his clit, letting his herald rock firmly against him, gasping in need.
Then, finally, Elrond cried out, tossing his head back and squirting over Gil-Galad’s hand.
The king grinned.
He was drunk, which again, wasn’t the best excuse for what he was doing. But Elrond was less drunk than he was, and seemed perfectly happy to be pushed into the king’s bed.
At first they didn’t progress much, Elrond just clumsily groped Gil-Galad’s clothed crotch until he decided that he needed more, much more.
“Might I-“ Gil-Galad asked, placing his hand over Elrond’s crotch. He wasn’t entirely certain what he wanted, although he had the idea floating in the back of his head that it had been too long since he’d fucked a vagina.
Elrond blinked at him. “If you like.”
Clumsily he pulled Elrond’s pants down.
Then he froze.
A cock hung between the half-elf’s legs, only slightly erect from their fumbling.
Gil-Galad blinked.
He grabbed him by the ear, pulling him forward to check the birthmark on the back of his neck. “Ow!” Elrond squealed.
It was, in fact, Elrond, the birth mark made it perfectly clear. But that left him with more questions.
“Did you suck my cock?”
“Last week?” Elrond asked in confusion. “Yes, at your desk.”
So he’d fingered Elros then? Gil-Galad shook his head to clear it, trying to work out when the twins had switched. They’d done it before, to mess with him, but he thought he could tell them apart finally.
“Do you… prefer a cunt, my lord?” Elrond asked uncertainly.
“I prefer to know who I’m fucking, I don’t care what I’m fucking.” He rubbed his face. “I fingered your brother,” he found himself saying. Not that it really mattered, he’d already damned himself for becoming involved someone he was meant to be protecting.
“No,” said Elrond. “That was me.”
Gil-Galad blinked at him, looked down at the cock in front of him. Then back to Elrond’s face. “I put my hand in a cunt-“
“Yes,” said Elrond. “I enjoyed it.”
“What?”
“Here,” said Elrond, taking Gil-Galad’s hand and moving it downwards.
What in Arda-
“Sweet Varda,” he said in disbelief, startled to find that there was, in fact, a vagina in front of him.
He was far too drunk for this.
“Kanafinwë says it is my gift, Elros can do it too, though, he doesn’t find the enjoyment.”
Gil-Galad swallowed, blinking several times. “You can change your genitals?”
“Yes.”
What in Mandos was he supposed to say to that?
(He sucked him off anyway, because it was, truly, a lovely cock).
He needed someone to talk through what had just happened, because that surely wasn’t normal, but his options were limited. Cirdan was off limits for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that the Shipwright still considered the twins to be underage (they were, by elven standards, but not so by mortal ones).
That was how he found himself in Celebrimbor’s makeshift forge, bothering his cousin who so hated to be interupted. “You have met Maiar.”
The smith sighed. “Other than the Herald?”
“Yes.”
“A few.” Celebrimbor, as usual, wasn’t thrilled by the topic of his past. “I was very young.”
“They are… not tethered to a physical form, as I understand?”
“They are not.”
“What of… partial Maiar?”
The smith frowned. “The only ones I met are the twins and their mother,” he said finally.
“Elrond can… change himself.”
“I saw him turn his hair silver once,” Celebrimbor admitted.
Gil-Galad popped his jaw, grateful that he wasn’t the only one to have witnessed whatever Elrond was capable of doing. “He can change his genitals.”
Celebrimbor blinked at him, his face blank. Finally, after some consideration, he said, “He’s a quarter your age.”
His answer was, perhaps, a bit too quick, too defensive, “He’s an adult.”
“Is he?”
Gil-Galad grit his teeth. “He’s a Peredhel.”
The smith studied him. “Very well,” he said finally, “he’s an adult.”
“Tyelpe, I saw him turn his cock into a cunt.”
“And I saw him turn his hair white,” said Celebrimbor.
“This is not the same.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No,” he said, “It isn’t. Because-“ he waved his hands. “This is not normal.”
Celebrimbor seemed to think for a moment. Then, in all his characteristic bluntness, he said, “Don’t knock him up.”