Heirs of Durin: FiKi: Breathtaking
It started at their first real concert, just a little gathering of what amounted to friends and family in a pub near the exterior of the mountain. Nothing extravagant, but still the first time they had performed together for others.
The first time he’d sat at his drums in the back and watched his brother bring his dream to life in front of an enraptured audience.
It only got worse after their first single release, as their audiences grew in number and enthusiasm. When their fans – so strange to think the word, but that’s what they were, the band’s emblem on their chests and autograph books in their pockets - knew the song, and sang along, drinking Fíli in as his fingers danced along the strings.
Kili struggled to control it. He truly did - slow, deep breaths, focusing on his drums, riding the music - but how could he when there was THIS:
Fili, bare arms glistening with a thin layer of sweat, leaning into the music, the lovely arc of his neck peeking out now and again from the thick fall of hair, the tight fit of slippery-soft, worn-in jeans smoothing the shape of his ass. And the audience - the audience watching him, leaning in toward him, gasps of air when he turned one of those slow, teasing smiles on them.
Of course Kili’s body reacted, of course his hands itched to touch and his pants were suddenly too tight.
He thought he hid it well enough, even if his walk had a bit of a hitch in it, and his hands slid to Fíli’s waist as soon as they were alone, his tongue tracing Fíli’s ear as his brother laughed in his arms. Sex afterward was understandable, there was no reason for Fíli to suspect that Kíli was half hard – or more – within minutes of each concert’s start.
He didn’t want Fíli to know. He’d never been embarrassed or ashamed of anything related to Fíli, related to being in love with Fíli, to age-old concepts of One and bursts of possessiveness and Fíli’s skin under his hands. But this-
He should be able to watch Fíli perform for five minutes without wanting to rut against his hips!
No, he thought he’d kept it quiet, kept it secret, spared himself this one great embarrassment.
Kili thought his secret safe until they performed before their biggest crowd yet, several hundred Men and a scattering of dwarves, and the noisiest as well. Some of them shouted for encores and called them by name – called Fíli by name, as he lifted his hair up into a high tail and that was the cheating, because now his shoulders were just there, muscles shifting with every twitch of his bow, and his neck was begging for Kíli’s teeth along the gentle curve.
Kili groaned under his breath as the finished the last song (a second encore, which should have been more exciting and less horrifying than it was, when all he wanted was a moment alone - or better yet, with Fili - somewhere he could get his hands on the body he’d been watching all night).
He closed his eyes as the audience cheered, centering himself, telling his body to behave, they were in public-
-and a hand slipped into his.
Kili’s eyes snapped open. “Fili,” he said, and maybe his voice was rough, and maybe it was in his face - a sort of shamed desperation at odds with everything he felt about his brother: comfort and lust an home and love.
Fili’s smile softened a bit, though his eyes were mischievous. "Trust me,“ he murmured, lifting the hand to his face and pressing his lips to the wrist in a feathery kiss.
Kili frowned. "I always trust-”
Laughter in Fili’s voice then, warm, “Good. Come on then,” and he tugged at Kili’s wrist.
Kili’s lover pulled him behind the small stage, pushing aside silver-black curtains that whispered against Kíli’s bare wrist where Fili’s lips were just seconds earlier.
“What are you doing?” Kíli asked, hard and hot and confused all in one.
Fili grinned at him, oh that one that was so nearly a smirk, and pushed a final curtain to the side to reveal a small sound booth. "Taking care of you,“ he promised.
Kili felt his face warm. He…that voice only made things worse. "Fili,” and he was definitely begging now.
But then Fili’s hands were at his waist, and warm breath caressed his lips. "I know. I know. I saw.“ A kiss, slow and filled with love and all the illegal vows that lay between them. “You’re beautiful.” Hands at Kili’s waist and a tongue licked his gasp away. "Always.“
“You can’t-” as Fili slid his belt free, the slide of leather whispering through denim sending a fission of desire up his spine.
“We’re-there’s people-” There were voices on the other side of the curtains, muffled but rumbling, and-Mahal- he was so hard his hips moved when he told them not to (right there, right there, all their eyes on Fili but now Fili’s hands were on him).
It was a question that was not a question, because the answer lay in Fili’s calloused hand now, thick and heavy. But he would stop immediately-stop and kiss apologies into Kili’s skin, if Kili said no.
“Yeah,” he breathed, because he did. Wanted Fili now, like this, voices and music, fingertips tingling from the vibration of his drums, their skin hot and sweaty, their voices rough around the edges.
Fili smiled, and kissed him (gently, so at odds with where they were and what they were doing-) and slid to his knees.
“Fili,” Kili breathed, because Fili was everything - heat and suction, soft wet music and thick hair tangling around his fingertips, rhythm and sex and transformation (from ashamed and embarrassed to this - loved and wanted and hotter than anything, anything-)
He came with a low groan, and maybe someone heard, but he didn’t care, because this was his to have, his shining brother on his knees as Kili’s hips stuttered and lost their rhythm, braids stroking the delicate sides of his cock as Fili’s tongue flickered and drank him down.
When Fili leaned back on his heels (bare shoulders and glistening lips), Kili slid down to join him, licking desperately at Fili’s mouth (bitter salt and smiles). "You looked for this,“ he muttered, "you planned this.”
“You needed it,” Fili answered as Kili crowded close, kissed his neck, bit down for a moment at slick skin. “And I wanted to see you.”
Kili shivered and moaned because yes.
Next time. When he could watch his Fili on stage, the vibrations through his boots, the wild abandon of pounding drums, without feeling like he was-
“But now we have to get back out there.” Fíli gave him a slow, naughty smile that Kili had never seen outside their bedroom before. “We’ll pretend none of this happened while you’re sensitive,” clever fingers tucking him away, “and thinking of my mouth with every step.”
Kili could only moan as the love of his life hopped to his feet and tugged Kili to his, grinning.