Title: Three of A Kind
Author: Ezra's Persian Kitty
Email: ezraspersiankitty@yahoo.com)
Type: FPS
Pairing: Glorfindel/Elrond/Erestor
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warning: Double Penetration.
Summary: Excitement after years of boredom.
Author's Note: For Susan.

THREE OF A KIND

Excitement, for the most part, was lacking.

The knock on Glorfindel's door was loud and unwelcome.

"'Uhtime `zit?" he groaned in the general direction of
the door.

"Early," a familiar voice called out.

"Elron'?"

"No, your mother. Yes it's Elrond. And if you miss the
meeting, Erestor will lynch you himself. Get up!"

"Ahright, ahright," Glorfindel mumbled, rolling
vaguely closer to the edge of his bed.

He perked up a bit when another voice sounded from the
hall.

"Elrond, what are you doing? You're checking on him
again, aren't you? You know, you can't always be
chasing him about, picking up after him." Erestor
banged on the door. "Get up, you mongrel!"

"I'm up! I'm up! By Elbereth," Glorfindel lowered his
voice and glared at the sunlight streaming prettily
through his curtains, "S'too-fuckin'-early-o'clock."

= = = = =

Excitement, for the most part, was lacking.

"Would you like a biscuit?"

"No, thank you."

"Yes, please."

It usually didn't get much more thrilling than that.

Glorfindel was munching on a biscuit.

Elrond was rubbing his temples, eyes closed, mouth set
in a frown.

Erestor set aside the plate and sat down to work. On
something. Of great importance, presumably.
"Glorfindel," the Counselor wanted to know, frowning
at a piece of paper, "exactly how finished are these
finished reports?"

Momentarily withdrawing from his thoughts, Elrond
opened his eyes to watch the most action he'd seen all
day.

Glorfindel had froze, his half-chewed biscuit
unattractively displayed in his half-open mouth, blue
eyes wide and trained on Erestor's glare. He chewed
once and swallowed briskly. Coughed a bit. "Uh . . ."

"That's what I thought," Erestor told him, unsurprised
and unimpressed. He returned to his paperwork, shaking
his head. "What exactly do you DO during your office
hour, Glorfindel?"

"Don't you know?" Elrond broke in. "He organizes his
quills by color, which is usually followed by a
vigorous bout of napping."

"I resent that!" Glorfindel sat up straight, slamming
his half-a-biscuit down on the desk. The biscuit
immediately crumbled on impact, sending crumbs
everywhere. "Oops."

Elrond and Erestor exchanged a look. "Just clean it
up," they chorused.

"You're not going to yell at me?"

"Not today," they told him.

= = = = =

Excitement, for the most part, was lacking.

Dinner was quiet. A private affair.

"Where's Arwen?" Erestor wanted to know.

"In seclusion," Elrond sighed. "Things were going so
well . . ."

"It's just a hitch," Glorfindel said optimistically.
"There's no reason she can't mourn the loss. After
all, she has all the time in the world to recover."

"It won't take that long," Elrond sighed wistfully.
The Half-Elf was distractedly pushing his food across
his plate.

Erestor and Glorfindel shared a long look over the
table.

"And the twins?" Glorfindel asked.

When Elrond did not answer, Erestor did. "Camping or
hiking or who-knows-what. Not for long. They'll be
back soon."

"Did they tell you as much?" Elrond wanted to know.

"Yes. Or they may as well have."

Glorfindel canted his head in a silent question.

"I may have . . . instructed them. To return
promptly."

Elrond smiled as Glorfindel gave a low chuckle.

= = = = =

It was late. Even later than usual. Excitement was
about to find them.

Erestor and Glorfindel were still in the family living
area, a great room of white walls and sheer curtains
with sprawling couches and a giant fireplace. Elrond
still hunched at his place at the long table. He
hadn't moved. Glorfindel lounged like some great
mountain beast on the thick rug before the small,
spitting fire. Erestor reclined regally on one of the
many couches, positioned so that he could keep the
other two in his sights without turning his head.

All three had a wineglass with some amount of liquid
still sloshing about within.

"Why do I always have to be the mature one?" Erestor
questioned, slowly climbing to his feet.

Glorfindel answered, "Because I'm too impulsive and
he's too depressive?"

Setting his glass aside, Erestor slowly nodded.
"That's as good a reason as any. Well," he glanced at
the door to Elrond's bedroom, "Are you coming?" And he
left.

Elrond and Glorfindel watched him go, watched him
leave the double doors slightly ajar.

"Why is he in my room?"

Glorfindel was sitting up straight, wineglass clutched
tightly. "Why did he invite us to come with him?"

Elrond blinked owlishly. "He can't be suggesting what
I think he's suggesting."

"Can't I?" Erestor called at them.

"Well no," Glorfindel yelled back. "It's . . . what
ARE you suggesting?"

When Erestor reappeared at the threshold, he was
naked. "We share so much already. Why not our bodies
too?"

Glorfindel was kneeling up on his knees now, the
better to see over the furniture between them. "What?
Like . . . the three of us?"

Erestor kept a straight face. "No. We're excluding you
on principle . . . YES the three of us!"

Elrond looked at his wine, as though expecting to find
some drug swirling within. Seeing nothing, he looked
back to Erestor with wide gray eyes. "Why?"

Erestor swiveled his head to look at him. "Our love
for one another is undeniable and yet has gone
undeclared."

"Why do you suppose that is?" Elrond interrogated.

Smiling, Erestor looked at Glorfindel, as if to say,
'you tell him.' Glorfindel took the hint and addressed
Elrond, his voice quiet and respectful for the first
time that day, "Because we don't need to say it.
Because we already know."

"That's right," Erestor purred. "Now we've done
our duties and our mourning, and there's no more reason to
wait. Come." And he slunk away into the bedroom again.

The half-Elf looked at Glorfindel.

The golden Elf looked back.

"You love me, Glorfindel?"

"Yes."

"And you love him?"

"Yes."

"And he thinks it's that effortless? That simple?"
Elrond wondered.

"It is," Glorfindel supported, finally rising to his
feet. "Isn't it?"

"I don't see how it can be. Love between two people is
tremulous enough. But sharing it between three . . .?"

Glorfindel gave a wide grin, all too handsome. "We're
strong enough." He finally put aside his wineglass and
approached Elrond to hold out a hand. "Come, then.
Erestor is right." He winked. "Don't you love us?"

"Too much, I sometimes think," Elrond wondered,
accepting the hand to rise.

Hand in hand they advanced toward Elrond's room.
Glorfindel eased open one of the doors and they peered
slowly in, to find a few scattered candles
illuminating Erestor's pale form where he lay on the
bed, waiting fairly patiently. He smiled at them
affectionately; he smiled at them in a way that
neither had ever seen before.

With a little push, Glorfindel sent Elrond into the
room first, and followed swiftly after. Elrond stared
at Erestor, as though unsure he should believe his own
eyes. Glorfindel, meanwhile, was eagerly shucking off
his clothes. Once he was down to his leggings, he
looked over at the immobile half-Elf. "Elrond? You
need a hand there?" The smile was audible in his
words.

"Nervous?" Erestor asked. He slipped from the bed to
approach Elrond. "No need to be. It's just us, you
know." He gently caressed Elrond's robed shoulder and
leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. Without passion,
without force, it was a tender press of lips, careful
and warm.

As soon as Erestor withdrew, Glorfindel took his
place, kissing Elrond in a quiet sort of way. His
strong fingers threaded through Elrond's dark hair,
his thumb rubbing the high cheekbone.

When Glorfindel retreated, he was smiling softly.

Elrond looked a little shell-shocked. Erestor asked
him. "Do you hesitate because you are unsure of your
own feelings? Or are you merely afraid?" There was no
answer. Elrond's sea-like eyes were alive with
emotion. "You think too much. Here. Let us help you."

Once Erestor and Glorfindel began seducing buttons
from their holes and laces from their points, Elrond
found the courage to take over and uncover himself.

Glorfindel took this opportunity to finally remove the
last of his own clothes and then grab Erestor and hold
him close and kiss him deeply. "Why did we wait so
long to do this?" Glorfindel whispered at Erestor's
ear.

"Because now is the right moment," Erestor assured
them both.

When Glorfindel and Erestor parted, they saw Elrond,
nude and a little shy. "I'm different from you," he
observed, uncertain.

Erestor took up his hand to kiss the palm. "You're a
half-Elf who chose Elvenkind. Any differences you have
only serve to enhance your beauty, Elrond Peredhel."

It was true, perhaps, that his skin was not quite
smooth, not quite hairless. His eyes were weary, his
lips thin.

Erestor herded both of them toward the bed. He touched
Glorfindel's elbow to gain his attention, and nodded
toward the bedside where he'd set a pot of oil within
easy reach.

Glorfindel nodded his acknowledgement and climbed in
first, so that Elrond might lie in the middle. Erestor
climbed in last, making no pretense at what he was
about. He did not lay down, but drew Elrond in for a
kiss. "I do love you, Elrond. But if this doesn't feel
right to you, just say the word. We'll stop."

"He'll stop," Glorfindel amended. "I may not be able
to."

Erestor feigned a glare. "So uncouth. I love you as
well, Glorfindel, though I damn myself for saying it."

"Damn yourself?"

"Aye. I may no longer pretend to be vexed when you
flirt with me."

"Oh," Glorfindel laughed. "You may. You may indeed. I
enjoy such games!"

Erestor smiled wildly. "I know you do." Then he turned
back to Elrond, whose hair he was caressing. "And you
Elrond? Do you love us as much as we love you?"
Erestor was grinning broadly.

"Must you ask?" Elrond wondered.

"Of course not. I would not ask if I was not certain
of the answer. I was just wondering if you were ready
yet to say it."

At this challenge, Elrond bristled. A little. "I love
you. Both of you, hard-headed bastards that you are."

Glorfindel brightened. "Well that's settled then!" And
he pounced. He shoved both dark-haired Elves to the
mattress, kissing them at turns, his large, callused
hands running over their bodies. He found that
Erestor's skin was smoother, Elrond's warmer.
Erestor's kisses were sharp and passionate, Elrond's
slow and welcoming. "I've needed this," he whispered,
watching the two Elves beneath him turn to one
another, watched Erestor kiss Elrond with unashamed
delight and abandon, watched Elrond eagerly respond.
"By Elbereth, look at you two. I can hardly believe
this is happening. You make me weak with hunger--"

"Glorfindel," Elrond began.

"Shut up," Erestor finished.

Glorfindel grinned again and joined them in the kiss.

After that, reassurances became unnecessary. Hands
soothed away the tension, kisses eased any lingering
anxiety, knowing eyes answered any unasked questions.
Erestor took charge, grabbed the oil, twisted off the
lid, and handed it to Glorfindel, who demanded, "What
am I, a shelf?"

Erestor rolled his eyes before focusing his practiced
glare on Glorfindel's pouting facade. "Prepare me," he
told the golden Elf. Then, Erestor dipped his fingers
into the oil and began slathering Elrond's very
interested arousal. Erestor focused all his attention
on the half-Elf, lips nipping at the pointed nubs on
his chest, along a narrow neck, the tips of pointed
ears.

Elrond melted beneath him, keening low in his throat
at the sudden stimulation, the loving attention, the
free expression of such easy and unconditional love.
For that's what it was and they all knew it.
Unconditional. Didn't matter that one of them had been
married, another dead, and the third still a relative
mystery. Didn't matter if they ran Imladris almost
single-handedly. Didn't matter how long they'd lived
or who they had loved or fought for, or whether the
past was altogether too present or what they knew of
the future. Unconditional meant that none of this
mattered.

In that particular moment, Erestor made Elrond feel
more alive and loved than he had in a very long time.

Erestor writhed like an arching cat when Glorfindel's
hands moved over his body, and he crooned like one
when bold fingers sought his center, pressing into his
body with firm but gentle persistence.

Glorfindel tried not to think too much about how what
he was doing was affecting his body. He'd only been
half joking when he'd protested he might not be able
to stop. Once he got going . . .

The feel of Erestor's heat squeezing around his
fingers went straight to his twitching cock. Still,
Glorfindel retained his sense of humor. "Not exactly
tight, Erestor," he observed.

Erestor lifted his head from his tasks to gaze over
his shoulder at Glorfindel. "Yeah, well I'm not
exactly a virgin. Add another finger."

Elrond moaned at this dialogue and pulled Erestor down
for another kiss.

When Glorfindel had four fingers moving easily in and
out of Erestor's all too willing body, the Counselor
straddled his Lord's belly and relied on Glorfindel's
help to position Elrond's stiff organ at his entrance.

When Erestor sank down, all three groaned out, whether
from the intense feeling or the erotic sight.

For many minutes, Glorfindel was more than content to
sit back and watch as Erestor slowly rode Elrond's
length, his half-bound hair beginning to stick to his
back with sweat, his dark eyes black with lust.
Elrond's hands were not still; they played over the
pale flesh of Erestor's body, to stiff nipples and
stiffer erection. Elrond's hips moved; pushing him up
into Erestor's body; his head pressed back into the
pillows, gray eyes relaxed from the world but taut
with sexual energy. Those sea-churning eyes caught on
Glorfindel's, and the Lord smiled.

"Glorfindel," Erestor broke the moment. "Slick
yourself with the oil."

"Why?"

"You wanna play twenty questions or have sex? Just do
it."

"Well, when you put it like that . . ."

Both Erestor and Elrond eagerly watched as Glorfindel
again dipped his hand into the oil and then set the
jar aside so that he could use both hands to stroke
his hard and heavy length, head thrown back, golden
hair streaming, muscles twisting like tightened ropes
beneath tan skin.

"All right," Erestor whispered as crystalline blue
eyes opened. "Now you."

"What?"

Erestor leaned forward so that he and Elrond were
chest to chest, still humping together. "Get behind
and enter me. I haven't exactly been celibate these
last few years. You won't hurt me." He shrugged. "Not
any more than I like to be hurt anyway."

"What?"

"Haven't you ever met anyone who gets off on a little
pain?"

"Well, sure, a little, but . . ."

"Elbereth, Glorfindel," Elrond swore. "Just do what he
wants."

So Glorfindel carefully situated himself over Elrond's
legs, his own shaft rubbing against Erestor's
buttocks, probing at the already full hole.

"I can't--"

"That's what they all say. Don't worry. You can. I
might growl a little bit. It's alright."

Elrond's struggling hand found one of Glorfindel's and
they interlaced their fingers. With his other hand,
Glorfindel slid a finger in beside Elrond's shaft. In
such a way he stretched Erestor even further until he
could force the head of his cock into the hole and
push all the way in.

Erestor froze, then pushed back and growled a little
bit.

Glorfindel and Elrond found that they could not
penetrate quite as far, but as they thrust in and out
together, the overall feeling of connectedness, of
shared pleasure, was overwhelming.

They moved together, this heaving, sweaty, tangled
mass. Hands clutched and slipped, clenched and
squeezed. Lips met and glanced off flesh. Three bodies
moved together. Three hearts, in this moment, beat in
time. Three mouths cried aloud their love and passion.
Three could be as one.

= = = = =

Elrond still lay in the middle, on his back.
Glorfindel lay to one side on his stomach, an arm
thrown over Elrond's chest to caress Erestor, who
curled up on Elrond's other side, one of those fine
scholar's hands cupped around Elrond's shoulder, his
cheek resting there. Elrond had an arm about each of
them and was swiftly on his way to dreamland.

Glorfindel grunted and his hand began searching until
he caught one of the tiny plaits in Erestor's hair and
gently tugged at it. "We're like the strands of a
braid," he murmured, "we three are complete only when
wound together."

Somewhere, crickets chirped.

"That has got to be the corniest thing I've ever
heard," Erestor mumbled.

"But it's sweet," Elrond gently defended, kissing both
on the forehead. "Now rest."

= = = = =

The end.