[Thorin's hair is braided so tightly, and for so long, that the hair that escapes is tightly-kinked even when wet, but it slowly it loosens under the warm water that laps around their shoulders, and it brings a sort of quiet, warm satisfaction to Thranduil's breast to see it.]
There, that's better. [Pleased, he leans in and presses a deliberate kiss to Thorin's temple, right at the base of the braid he had just demolished, then moves to the other side and kisses that temple too.
The warmth of the bath and the gentle, undemanding touches of his lover are making him feel lethargic and almost sleepy, and he is almost tempted to close his eyes and drift off. Thorin would not allow it, of course, but it is still tempting nonetheless. Instead, he strokes wet fingers through Thorin's hair and smiles at him, waiting to see what he will do next, if anything.]
[ He had not realized how much more comfortable such an action would make him. The braids were something he'd lived with his entire life, if a different sort. Thorin relaxed further in the water and only straightened when Thranduil needed to reach the end of the other braid.
He also had not been expecting such a sweet gesture once he was now properly undressed. With a naturally crooked smile such as that and tender touch to his hair? Thorin couldn't not do something. Everything told him to kiss Thranduil, so he did. As careful as any other action they had that night. Lingering too long and remaining chaste. He kisses the corner of his mouth, bottom of his jaw, across chin to the other side. The warm water ebbs and flows with each action to touch them with even more caresses. Thorin will definitely demand more of nights like these in the future. ]
[This sort of tenderness is most unlike the façade the two of them both present to the world, but Thranduil would be lying if he said he did not enjoy it. There are times he feels as if he is the one hewn from stone; unyielding, hard, cold, and as unchanging as the mountain itself. But in quiet moments like these, with Thorin's warmth pressed to his chest, the scrape of his beard and the soft press of his lips meandering across his skin, he feels alive.
He murmurs Thorin's name quietly on a slip of a breath, barely any sound escaping his lips, and he lets his eyes slide slowly closed, his hands drifting out of Thorin's hair to curl instead around his broad shoulders.
The hot spring is moving gently about them, but it is fed from below, so there isn't even the sound of a bubbling brook to disturb their peace. Just the quiet lap of the water they displace hitting their bodies, the soft puff of their breath, the occasional murmur of voices. Coupled with the dark canopy overhead and the sparse light thrown by the occasional lantern, it is dark and quiet and safe down here, something almost subterranean about it all. And yet Thranduil does not feel claustrophobic at all. Not with Thorin, a creature made for such underground spaces.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Thorin's hair is braided so tightly, and for so long, that the hair that escapes is tightly-kinked even when wet, but it slowly it loosens under the warm water that laps around their shoulders, and it brings a sort of quiet, warm satisfaction to Thranduil's breast to see it.]
There, that's better. [Pleased, he leans in and presses a deliberate kiss to Thorin's temple, right at the base of the braid he had just demolished, then moves to the other side and kisses that temple too.
The warmth of the bath and the gentle, undemanding touches of his lover are making him feel lethargic and almost sleepy, and he is almost tempted to close his eyes and drift off. Thorin would not allow it, of course, but it is still tempting nonetheless. Instead, he strokes wet fingers through Thorin's hair and smiles at him, waiting to see what he will do next, if anything.]
no subject
He also had not been expecting such a sweet gesture once he was now properly undressed. With a naturally crooked smile such as that and tender touch to his hair? Thorin couldn't not do something. Everything told him to kiss Thranduil, so he did. As careful as any other action they had that night. Lingering too long and remaining chaste. He kisses the corner of his mouth, bottom of his jaw, across chin to the other side. The warm water ebbs and flows with each action to touch them with even more caresses. Thorin will definitely demand more of nights like these in the future. ]
no subject
He murmurs Thorin's name quietly on a slip of a breath, barely any sound escaping his lips, and he lets his eyes slide slowly closed, his hands drifting out of Thorin's hair to curl instead around his broad shoulders.
The hot spring is moving gently about them, but it is fed from below, so there isn't even the sound of a bubbling brook to disturb their peace. Just the quiet lap of the water they displace hitting their bodies, the soft puff of their breath, the occasional murmur of voices. Coupled with the dark canopy overhead and the sparse light thrown by the occasional lantern, it is dark and quiet and safe down here, something almost subterranean about it all. And yet Thranduil does not feel claustrophobic at all. Not with Thorin, a creature made for such underground spaces.]