Summary: Legolas finally convinced his King to take some time off… That's when things happen.

Warnings: This SLASH. Don't like – don't read. You have been warned. AU.

Disclaimer: They aren't mine? Darn it. Okay, all characters belong to Tolkien.

A/N: This is the first fic I ever published… And look at me now! :)

Enjoy!

Have it Your Way

"Indeed, this was a fine idea!"

Aragorn, King of Men, stretched out his long legs in front of him and leaned back in the low, cushioned chair. The spring air was fresh and the breeze brought with it the promising scent of buds and blossoms. A gentle sunlight, slowly warming the land and his face, shone softly down upon him as he closed his eyes and sighed, completely content.

"Aye, I knew you would like it – eventually," came the melodic voice of Legolas from beneath him. The Elf had refused a chair and was currently lying on his back on the grass, more pleased with himself than he would admit aloud.

"Are you implying something, meleth?" Aragorn opened one eye to peer down upon the Elf who immediately put on the most innocent expression he could muster.

"Who, me? Nay, my lord, as your loyal servant I tell you that it is you and you only who come up with the brilliant ideas," Legolas gazed up at Aragorn subserviently. However, he was not able to maintain a straight face for more than a short moment until he broke into a fit of laughter.

"Hah, I knew it!" Aragorn shoved one of his feet in Legolas' direction, but the Elf rolled away on the grass, still laughing. The Man grunted incomprehensibly and closed his eyes once more.

"Ah, Estel…" Legolas sighed when he had regained his speech. "This pride of yours… we will have to do something about it someday, you know. It is really quite tragic that our great King cannot admit his own faults." He returned to his original spot next to Aragorn. "Anyhow, I am happy to see you enjoy this break from your duties. I give you leave to think it was your idea from the beginning." Another shove from Aragorn's foot, but it only served to make Legolas chuckle.

Imladris truly was beautiful at this time of year, he reflected as silence settled down again. It offered all the peace they needed after the first year of Aragorn's reign. The War had been won – at great expenses – and so much needed to be rebuilt, so many wounds needed healing. Wounds, hearts and souls. Aragorn would be an amazing King, he already was, but even he was not capable of doing everything at once.

After days of Legolas' coaxing, more or less brutal depending on the progress he was making, Aragorn had finally agreed to travel back to his old home for a couple of weeks. Lord Elrond would be delighted to see him and Faramir was a most effective Steward who would govern wisely in his stead.

So, at last, they were relaxing in one of the more secluded parts of the gardens, simply breathing. Elrond had certainly given them a warm welcome, and Arwen had been given the opportunity to make sure Aragorn ate and slept properly. Aragorn muttered and complained of course, telling her he was no longer a child that needed supervision, but she only shook her head and ordered him a second helping of supper. Then she asked them both, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, when they were getting married.

As that was an issue that had not yet been properly discussed, both Man and Elf were relieved that the party was interrupted at that very moment by a messenger bringing a letter for Elrond. Aragorn quickly changed the topic after that. True, it would have to be seen to, but neither Aragorn nor Legolas were in a hurry. Also, there had been too much to engage in this past year to have time to plan the ceremony.

However, that did not mean they could not do things married couples did, and as that thought now slipped into Legolas' mind he felt a surge of excitement race trough him. All of a sudden, the grass underneath him was no longer as enchanting as he had originally found it. Actually, come to think of it, he very much preferred a large cushioned chair.

The Elf turned his eyes towards Aragorn.

Aye, but not any chair. I would have yours, along with you in it.

Without making a sound he rose from the ground and stood in front of the Man who was dozing in the sunlight. Gracefully he bent down and lightly placed his lips against those of Aragorn. When nothing happened he pressed down slightly, his blond hair fell to the sides of his face and the strands settled on Aragorn's chest and shoulders.

The Man stirred and Legolas felt a smile grace the lips he was kissing. Warm, soft and welcoming. The Elf let his tongue slip out and part those lips, softly wetting them, preparing them for more. He leaned in even closer and put his hands on the chair's armrests. The tip of his tongue stroked the full lips that were so generously offered to him. The strokes soon became stronger – he could not help it – and then he entered Aragorn's mouth, encountering that sweet familiar taste.

Now Aragorn kissed back; Legolas felt his own tongue being caressed, his own lips worshipped and lust hit him full force. Strong hands were wrapped around him and the Elf was made to half sit, half lie in Aragorn's lap.

Aragorn rested his hands on Legolas' hips, making sure the Elf was not going anywhere. Not that he needed to worry as Legolas was kissing him hungrily now, clearly stating his desire. His hands were on Aragorn's chest, untying the tunic and revealing the bronzed skin underneath. Not a second later he tore his lips away and placed them around a hardened nipple. He was rewarded by a deep groan from the Man who drew him closer.

"Feeling inspired, Legolas?" he murmured.

His lover raised his head momentarily and a sly smile formed on his lips, "Always, my King. Can you live with that?" The Elf gave the exposed nipple a teasing brush with the tip of his tongue, at which Aragorn inhaled deeply.

"I… yes, Legolas… I believe I can."

As Legolas sucked on the nipple Aragorn began to slowly grind his hips against his groin, and using his hands to move Legolas in a similar manner. At the contact, Legolas felt himself swell inside his leggings. He left the nipple and plunged his tongue straight into Aragorn's warm, wet mouth. He began moving himself against the Man's growing bulge, timing the rolling motion so they kept body contact.

"Wait, wait meleth," Aragorn's muffled words were barely distinguishable but they slowed down Legolas' movements a little. "I want…" he sucked on the Elf's lower lip, "want to feel you…" He shifted and his hands travelled from hips to laces, and without looking, he easily untied the leggings and took Legolas' pounding elfhood in his hands. As he began stroking, a small gasp escaped the lithe being on top of him and he smiled devilishly.

"Yes… you like…" he tugged at Legolas' lip with his teeth. "Oh, and I like this too," he murmured as he continued the caressing of the hard, heated flesh.

Legolas managed to free his lips enough to speak, "'Tis no fair, Aragorn!" but he was quieted down with a swirling motion of Aragorn's hand that made his head spin and his usually so cool blood run hot in his veins.

"Not fair, my fair Elf? Well then, I will see to that." His hands left Legolas for a moment to untie his own laces. For all of Aragorn's smart remarks, the Man could not help but shudder at the feeling and sight of his own shaft against his lover's, Legolas noted content. Besides, it was still he who was in control and he was about to prove it.

Legolas moved his mouth to Aragorn's ear and said in a voice that was more of a breath and which made Aragorn shiver with pleasure, "There is a vial of oil in your left pocket, Estel dear."

A triumphant smile crossed his features when Aragorn's eyes widened and the Man realised there was more planning behind this than he had thought. It was, though, too great a temptation to be upset with Legolas' scheming.

From the vial, which he indeed did find in his left pocket, he produced a generous amount of oil. He heated it up by rubbing his palms together and then, deliberately slowly, he began stroking himself. Legolas felt his own arousal twitch as he watched his human lover prepare and at the same time, please himself. He pushed down his leggings and let them slip down to land on the grass.

"Seas, Estel… enough of this torture," he moaned. "I need you."

Aragorn watched him through half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his beautiful lover watching him, wanting him inside. He slid his hand in underneath Legolas and probed gently at his opening, stretching him first with one finger, then two, and finally three.

Legolas squirmed a little against him, but kept urging him on with small groans and smiles. When Aragorn felt he could wait no longer he pushed the Elf into more of a sitting position and very carefully entered him with his full arousal.

Legolas, with eyes closed, felt every sensation, every touch, dance around him in a flow of colour and emotion. Aragorn began moving inside of him and he followed happily. The Man pulled him down again, closing the space between them and thus also stroking Legolas' shaft with both their bodies.

Legolas crashed his lips unto Aragorn's and he demanded entrance to his mouth, just as his lover had entered him. He sucked and kissed as hands stroked his back fiercely and tangled in his hair. Aragorn was now thrusting hard, and when he found that one spot inside Legolas which made the Elf almost scream aloud, Legolas spilled himself between them.

The sight of Legolas' complete ecstasy was what pushed Aragorn over the edge and he came with a growl, emptying his seed in the warmth that surrounded him. He thrust a few more times, letting the waves of release wash over him. On top of him, Legolas was breathing heavily.

They lay in silence for a while, cherishing the closeness and savouring the moment. Finally Legolas stirred, "Mhmm," he informed the King.

Aragorn let out a quiet laugh, "You have a wonderful way with words meleth, I should have you write my speeches." He placed a kiss on Legolas' cheek. "I repeat what I said before though; this was a fine, fine idea!"

Legolas' eyes opened and he flashed a grin, "You admit to it now?"

Aragorn gave him a puzzled look, "Admit to what? Coming to Imladris was an excellent idea; I really should have those more often."

Legolas punched him in the stomach.

Fin

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