forgottenbrother | OPEN POST

Frerin grins at the kick, making a face at Thorin.

While Thorin is doing all that, his brother will wander off to find the stream. He knows where it is, of course, but he takes his sweet time in filling up a bucket with fresh water and bringing it back to the camp. That done, the young dwarf climbs into a nearby tree and settles himself there, lazily whittling himself a new arrow.

The sun is setting now and Thorin eventually catches sight of his brother up in a nearby tree. The setting sun through the trees looks lovely on his brother and he'll watch him for a moment.

Until he tosses a pebble at him, hitting just against the side of Frerin's boot.

"Oi, you staying up there all evening?" Come here you big baby. You did want to spend time with Thorin after all, right?

The pebble against his boot makes him glance over at Thorin. Frerin gives his brother a brilliant smile and tucks his knife away, climbing down from the tree and setting his half-finished arrow beside his abandoned pack.

"Have something particular in mind, brother dear?"

Glad to have his brother down on the ground with him now, he'll cross his arms over his chest, shrugging.

"Dinner, if you were hungry." Dried meats and what not. Some mead. Good dwarf dinner!

"Though why must you climb trees like some elf?" Thorin says with a wrinkle of his nose. It's so very undwarf like, Frerin.

"Dinner sounds excellent." Frerin shrugs, walking over to join his brother by the fire. The second statement, however, gets a scowl.

"I am not like an elf, Thorin," he huffs. Thorin gets a hard shove.

Sitting, Thorin grabs for their packs, not before he's shoved by Frerin. Taking a bottle of mead from his pack he'll give him a look, pulling the cork from it and drinking a swig.

"You use a bow and climb trees like one." He's teasing him, but he hardly sounds it. Poking fun at his brother was too easy at times.

"Well..." Frerin struggles to find a comeback. "Your ears are pointy like an elf's."

Not his best, but it'll have to do for now. The truth is, comparisons to elves bother Frerin far more than he lets on. He knows he's not like the other dwarves. He embarrassed himself already by dropping a warhammer on his foot because it was too heavy for him to hold. It had been several years since that incident, but it still stung.

Even Dis was a better dwarf than he.

Frerin please. Sighing, he pushes the opened bottle against Frerin's chest willing him to drink.

"One day you will have to teach me how to shoot as good as you." He's saying he approves, he just likes teasing you. It's what brothers do after all. Really he thinks his brother is very talented. He's quick on the draw and can hit most anything with his bow, rarely did he miss. It was amazing to watch.

Frerin takes the bottle gratefully, tilting his head back as he takes a swig. The prominent blue eyes of the Durin line shine out of his face with gratitude that Thorin understands.

"A clumsy oaf like you?" Frerin will tease right back, his confidence restored by that one remark. "I hardly think you would be any use with a bow."

But Thorin saying Frerin would have to teach him...that means a lot. It truly does.

He'll snag the bottle back, taking a good swig himself.

"Mm, then teach this clumsy oaf how to be of any use with one." He leans against Frerin, one arm behind his brother as he holds himself up from falling back.

"If I can learn to wield a blade without taking my fingers off, I must not be a complete waste with a bow." At least teach him how to pull the string back without snapping himself in the face.

Frerin smiles fondly, dropping his head to rest against his brother's shoulder. He does so love taking time to be together, just them doing whatever they pleased. One arm snakes around Thorin's waist.

"You do have such clever fingers," he remarks in a low murmur, eyes drifting closed for a moment. "Would you really want me to teach you?"

The bottle settles between Thorin's legs, hand still resting around the neck of it. He'll bring his other hand up to rub along the side of Frerin's neck, behind his ear, into his hair. Massaging lazily.

"I would not ask if I did not want you to."

Frerin hums at the light massage, letting out a pleased sigh. He's always been more physically affectionate than anything, and nothing tells him he's loved more than touch. His eyes stay closed, content.

"You know Dis will want to be involved too."

Thorin knows plenty about Frerin and his ways of showing affection. He can be overly so at the worst of times, still, he loves his brother. More than he should. Not that it was anything he could help, it had just... happened.

Still, they are so very comfortable around each other when alone like this, he really does enjoy it. Fingers lightly move through the mane of hair, blunt nails scratching against Frerin's scalp. He's like a big cat, honestly.

"Aye, she will. It would be only fair to teach her as well." Thorin, always trying to play the devil's advocate between them all.

A big cat is probably the best description for Frerin. He adores attention on his terms. He muffles a little sound against Thorin's shoulder, a slight shiver running down his back at the sensation.

It goes both ways, however. Thorin gives him attention and Frerin will give it right back. He tilts his head, his face pressing lightly against his brother's neck in order to give him a gentle nip there.

"Must I?" He huffs against Thorin's slightly damp skin.

At the nip, his fingers curl in Frerin's hair. Naughty brother, he knows how wicked he can be.

"Father will insist."

Fingers curling is not saying no, at least. Frerin takes that chance to nip at him again, tongue darting out to brush over the same spot. It's naughty of him and he knows it, but Frerin loves to tease.

"Father doesn't have to know."

Thorin's breath catches at that and he'll use that handful of hair to tug Frerin up and into a kiss. Isn't this what he wanted after all?

"Dis will complain to him. He'll find out. There is enough he doesn't know as is." Meaning them. Their relationship with each other. But enough of that talk, he'll kiss Frerin again, hand firm against the back of his brother's neck.

Frerin lets out a smug chuckle as Thorin finally kisses him, returning it briefly. His eyes glitter with triumph and mischief, pleased with himself.

"If you insist," he murmurs. Thorin's lips are on his again and he groans in satisfaction, hands fisting in his brother's clothes.

"You can do better than that, brother."

Oh don't try to challenge him, Frerin. But of course Thorin is always trying to be better and do the best he can, so his brother's words work easily on him. He'll push Frerin down onto his back, his kiss much more hungry as he cages him between arms and a mess of hair.

Better?

The fire is warm beside them, but not too close to be a worry. Thorin thinks maybe they should move onto one of their bedrolls, but right now he would like to kiss his brother silly.

"Thorin..."

Thorin's eagerness wins him a satisfied groan against his lips. Frerin slides his hands up into his brother's hair, kissing back just as hard. He loves this, loves being wanted, and no one has ever made him feel happier or more wanted than Thorin.

It should not excite him as it does, hearing his name from his brother's lips like this. Yet it does, the sound of it going straight to his groin and he'll moan into their kiss. His mouth finds its way down along Frerin's neck, lavishing it with kisses, nips, while fingers work to undo buckles and ties of clothes.

"How should I have you, brother? Like this, between your thighs and pulling you onto me with every thrust?" Thorin murmurs, breath hot along Frerin's skin.

"Or would you rather I took you on your knees?" The firelight would look lovely playing against his brother's back when he fucked him. Still, either way he would have him. They did not couple much back in their home, it was too risky. Someone could find out. But out here, they were alone, no one would know.

Frerin shivers at the way Thorin sounds, how he looks, how much he wants him. Sometimes he fears that loving his brother the way he does must be a curse set upon him, but then there are times like this when it just feels so right and Frerin can't bring himself to care if Mahal hates him. Because oh how Thorin loves him.

"Al-already, brother?" A sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan slips from his lips, and he digs his heels into the ground, wanting more. "Do I truly excite you this much?"

"Do not play coy, you know what you do to me..." Thorin gives a rough nip at the base of Frerin's throat. Fingers ruck up his brother's shirt, trying to get it over his head and off.

"You can feel for yourself how much you excite me." He's not completely hard yet, but those little nips from earlier, Frerin, oh how that got him started. It didn't take much, but it was more about Thorin controlling himself, he had to quite a bit back home. It didn't help that Frerin was an insufferable tease either, but when he knew he could have him, that it was safe to, Thorin did not waste his time.

That nip to the throat has Frerin squirming slightly beneath his brother, and he helps with undressing himself. Underneath, his skin is smooth and relatively unscarred, unsurprising for a dwarf who has not seen his first battle yet.

Thorin's suggestion has Frerin's hand going straight to palm his brother through his breeches. It still catches him by surprise sometimes, the physical evidence of Thorin's lust for him.

He laughs breathlessly, shivering beneath his brother. "I must be the luckiest dwarf in Arda."

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