What Do You Do with an Arrogant Soldier?

by Tarnneth

Summary: Boromir isn't a joiner. Can Gandalf break through that haughty exterior?

Warnings: Hot old man.

Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were mine I'd never leave the house.

Author's note: Ok, I know this pairing may seem strange, but I've long had a thing for teacher/student type relationships, and Gandalf did once act as a tutor to Boromir and his brother Faramir. I can't explain it but it seems really natural to me.


"Gandalf."

The wizard looked up to see his Ranger friend wearing a look of exasperation. "Yes?"

"Something needs to be done about Boromir. He's a petulant ass."

Gandalf smirked. Isildur's heir had been having trouble with the Gondoran since they had started out on the quest. He was surly, prideful and brash and seemed to delight in reminding everyone of how Gondor was the only thing standing between Middle-Earth and the hoards of Mordor. In short, Boromir was a prick.

"A very handsome prick." Gandalf reminded himself as he nodded curtly at Aragorn and put out his pipe. The wizard then rose from his seat on an old stump and clasped the Ranger's shoulder.

"I'll deal with it." Oh, but who was going to deal with the way that Boromir's ill-temper made Gandalf want to throttle him and ravish him both at once. The Istar sighed. He had to stop lusting after younger men. Much younger in fact.

"He's gone off to have a bath by the river. I think Legolas' snide remarks about his reek got to him finally."

Gandalf could be glad for that at least. He nodded again and set off through the camp toward the river nodding and smiling politely at the other members of the Fellowship as he went. Legolas and Gimli were arm-wresting, again. "Bets on how long it'll take them to fall into a bedroll together." He mused to himself as he passed the elf and the dwarf.

After a short walk the wizard found his quarry kneeling at the side of the river. Boromir's mantle hung in a tree and his boots and a pile of clothing sat by a rock. The man's head was submerged in the water and his bare back was arched, offering Gandalf a clear view. The tight black leggings hugged hips and buttocks in a way that left nothing to the imagination. No, that wasn't true at all; it left a lot to the imagination. Like what exactly Gandalf would do to such a perfect ass if it was presented to him unclad and willing.

By the Valar! What a body! Gandalf had to count back to recall just how long it had been since he'd had sex of any kind. He stopped when he got to double digits.

Boromir pulled his head from the river and shook his hair out in a way that made his silent observer want to just walk away rather then combat a sudden rise of lust just to speak to the man. Instead Gandalf cleared his throat loudly and adopted his most stern teacher's voice. "Boromir, I'd like a word with you."

The prince of Gondor turned and pushed a clump of wet hair from his face. "I'm a bit busy just now. Can it wait?"

His tone bore the same haughty quality of nearly all of Boromir's manners. It made Gandalf's blood boil a bit but his tone cooled in contrast. "No it cannot. Your attitude is a detriment to the whole of the party. It will stop now or I'll send you back to Rivendell without the least thought to the contrary."

"My attitude?" His voice only became more arrogant and snappish. He stood upright and stalked angrily toward Gandalf, fists clenched at his sides. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

The wizard crossed his arms and tried not to stare at the runnels of water that trickled down Boromir's chest, wetting the dark golden hairs sprinkled over the hard pectoral muscles and trailing down over the washboard stomach. The inevitable destination of that trail was foremost on his thoughts. "Get a grip you, bloody fool," Gandalf hissed to himself before narrowing his eyes and locking them to the flinty grey ones before him.

"What I mean is just that. You are rude and pompous, you strut around like a peacock, and you have rejected every friendly advance that your companions have made toward you."

Those same grey eyes flashed with anger. "Friendly advance?! They treat me like a brick-headed grunt. The Hobbits act like they think I'm going to trip over them. Aragorn gives me orders like I was a stable boy, and Legolas keeps telling me I stink. Gimli's the only one who's been even nice to me and he came on to me. So excuse me if I'm not particularly friendly with the lot."

"Gimli came on to you?" Gandalf covered a tiny flash of jealousy with a little smile.

"Yes. Which made Legolas' comments about my hygiene increase by the way." The man gave a grumpy little frown and crossed his arms over his chest. Gandalf had to stifle a disappointed groan at the obstruction of his view.

"And how have I been treating you?"

Boromir gave him a sidelong glance and pouted, of all things. Really pouted, lower lip thrust out and everything. "You've been ignoring me."

Gandalf pulled himself from the fantasies he was having about the pout. "I've been what?"

"Ignoring me, damn it! Bloody hell, I've only been trying to get your attention for days, making conversation and hanging on your every word, practicing swordplay and doing calisthenics around you. What did you think all that shirtless stretching was about?" He threw his arms out dramatically as he spoke, and his throat moved as his breath quickened.

All Gandalf could do was blink and sputter. What had he thought? Apparently the same thing that Boromir had, it just hadn't occurred to him that the man could be intentionally trying to attract his notice. "I thought you just wanted to stay fit."

Boromir groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, then raked them through his damp hair. "No, you great git, I've been trying to turn you on. All right, I'm not very suave. You don't have to be when you're coming on to soldiers, you just swagger up and say something vulgar about what they have in their pants. I don't know the first thing about hitting on a wizard."

Suddenly Gandalf found his boots very interesting. He studied them trying to think of something to say. "I had no idea."

"Well, that was obvious. It's been rather frustrating, I've started to understand why my father calls you the 'Grey Fool'."

Gandalf scowled. "Well, joining your father in calling me names isn't going to help, I can assure you."

"And what would work?" He said putting his hands on his hips in a particularly cocky manner.

"As it happens I have been noticing you, I just didn't think you were trying to attract my eye." Gandalf started to fidget with the loose end of his belt. "It's not often that handsome young men flirt with me. Forgive me if I was too dense to see." Gandalf sighed. "The direct approach might have served you better. Swaggering up and saying something vulgar about what I have under my robe or something similar."

Boromir wet his lips, his eyes intent on Gandalf's hand as it continued to mess with the belt. With a little smirk he reached out and grabbed the belt just below the wizard's hand. He let the braided leather slide through his fingers slowly and then pulled it taught between them. The Gondoran looked at the Istar, his eyes filled with unmasked lust.

It was Gandalf's turn to run his tongue over his lips. He made a vague attempt at speech before he was pulled by the belt to press against a bare muscled chest.

"Shut up and kiss me old man." Boromir growled before his lips assaulted Gandalf's in a bruising kiss.

Oh, those lips were just as lovely as he had imagined. And the strong hand that tangled into his grey mane and the firm planes of the bare back under his fingers, they all meshed together deliciously. A curious tongue flicked at his lips begging entry, which the wizard granted, meeting the guest with his own tongue. The pair of them probed and tasted gently before Boromir again deepened the kiss.

The hand that had been clutching his belt moved to press against Gandalf's groin, causing him to gasp into the luscious mouth that claimed his. He broke away to look into Boromir's eyes questioningly.

"Well, well. What do you have under your robe, good sir wizard?" The handsome lord said with a playful grin.

Gandalf chuckled. "If you desire to see you have only to ask." The wizard tipped his head down to kiss the throat that had been driving him to distraction for days. Boromir moaned and ground his pelvis into Gandalf's growing erection. At the sensation the wizard bit into the skin under his lips and started to suck at the pulse point on the man's neck.

Boromir's head fell back and his neck arched to offer Gandalf more access. His hands raked down the younger man's back and came to rest at the rounded swell of his rear. He squeezed, kneading the firm muscles as he pulled that battle-honed body against his own. By chance or design, their swelling cocks met and an elated noise came from deep in Boromir's throat at the friction.

"Oh Gods, Gandalf!"

The wizard's mouth left his throat and gave the new love bite he'd made an appraising look. "You approve?"

The man merely grunted an affirmative and started to undo Gandalf's belt.

"I'll take that as a yes." He licked his way up to an ear and nipped at the lobe before running his tongue up over the outside of the ear. He was rewarded by another groan of pleasure and a desperate pair of hands trying to find a way into his robes. "Eager?"

"Yes." The word was gasped more than spoken. Gandalf was loath to pull away from one so frantic with desire but the sound of delight that Boromir made as his robes lifted over his head made it so very worth it.

"I knew it. I knew you were beautiful." The way Boromir went to his knees and wrapped his arms around the wizard's hips you'd have thought a god had manifested before him. His bearded face nuzzled against the grey curls that framed the erect penis and tensed testicles. Now it was Gandalf's turn to moan and let his head fall back as a whiskered chin brushed down his length followed by those oh so perfect lips. His hand tangled into the still damp locks but didn't push or guide in anyway.

Boromir's tongue flicked over the head, pulling from it the moisture that had begun to collect at the slit. He mumbled something that sounded like "delicious," but Gandalf was too focused on the mouth suddenly enveloping him to ask that it be repeated. It was beyond good. Boromir's skill surpassed the wizard's every fantasy. Tongue and teeth worked in concert to lavish sweet torture over the trembling flesh.

So easy to lose himself to the sensations and release all of his pent up need into the willing vessel before him. Boromir was taking all of his rigid cock in deep lunges that brought his nose to Gandalf's curls and his bearded chin against the tender flesh of his sac. Oh, so easy to just let go.

It took all of his Istarieme strength to pull away from the moist perfection of Boromir's mouth. The Gondoran have him a look of wide-eyed shock.

"Gandalf? What..?"

The wizard raised his hand for silence as he fought to catch his breath and still the tide of ecstasy rising in him. "I did not want to... finish so quickly."

A sly smile graced Boromir's lips. "Trust me, I would not be finished with you."

Boromir rose and made a show of pushing his pants down slowly. With a slight twitch of his trim hips they moved down his legs enticingly. His hard cock burst forth and bobbed up and down a bit before coming to point proudly up toward the Gondoran's stomach.

Gandalf licked his lips and stared at the lovely thing. He toed off his boots and strode forward to wrap a hand around the thick flesh, stroking upward as his mouth claimed Boromir's.

The younger man hands clawed in desperation at the wizard's back. His mouth tasted like need. Sensing that he was nearing the breaking point, Gandalf began to ease the two of them toward the riverbank where the ground was softer. Intending to make passionate love to this man he might be, but he was not about to do it on top of burrs or rocks.

With care Gandalf drew Boromir down and laid him out on the soft turf. The beautiful man moaned as his body was covered by the wizard's lean frame. They rolled and bucked together, bodies twining and rubbing to create wonderful friction. Boromir was like a cat under him, arching and begging for touch, growling and clawing like a wild thing. He found it very exciting.

"Gandalf, oh gods please..."

"Please what?" The Istar said between bites and kisses to his new lover's chest.

With a whimpering gasp Boromir ground himself upward. "Fuck me, just please fuck me."

Gandalf couldn't stifle a chuckle. How quickly the Gondoran had gone from an arrogant ponce to a wanton begging to be taken. The man was wrapping his legs around Gandalf hips and moaning a litany of pleas. Moving up onto his knees, the wizard looked around for something to ease is way into the waiting body.

"Boromir... is there any lubricant?"

The man's voice was husky and his eyes were half-lidded and dark with passion. "Soap. Legolas slipped it into my boot while I was sleeping."

The wizard grinned as he caught sight of the bar. His great hand wrapped around it, and he thrust both into the water to create a lather. "Remind me to thank the elf later. Turn onto your hands and knees, Boromir."

He obliged, pushing his ass into the air alluringly as he did. With hands covered in suds, Gandalf slicked his cock and applied soapy film to the puckered hole before him. Boromir whimpered and pushed back into the hand, causing a finger to breech the tight ring. He gasped and bucked back with great force onto the digit.

"Oh, but you're a greedy thing." Gandalf didn't think his penis could get any harder but the way the man was panting and moving to impale himself on just his finger made him swell to near bursting. He'd have to be careful or it would be over far to quick for either of their liking.

The finger came out with a slight squish of suction, and he set his sudsy cock head in place before gripping the trim hips before him. "Stay still," he commanded before pushing forward to penetrate the hot velvet sheath.

Rapture, almost an immediate sense of rightness washed through Gandalf as he entered the man. Boromir was moaning thank yous and begging for more, trembling as he fought to hold himself frozen over the onslaught of sensation. Gandalf could sense his struggle and it exhilarated him. He however took pity on the man and didn't wait to long once he'd buried himself in the luscious heat to pull out for a powerful plunge back in.

Boromir cried out and started the jerk his hips back to meet the barrage of thrusts that came. Gandalf's head swam in pure carnal joy. This was lust, this creature that took each hard slam into his body and begged for more. This was raw animal need personified in an exquisitely shaped male body. A body that writhed and moved with his in matchless ecstasy.

"Gandalf! Gandalf!!" Boromir's screams were so loud that the wizard was sure their companions knew what they were up to. It mattered not. Let them come and see this lewd show. If they were assaulted by orcs, he would not stop his ravishing. Black Riders could not distract him from it. The Dark Lord himself would be forced to wait. Nothing save the destruction of Middle-earth and all its people in a sudden cataclysmic event could make Gandalf pull himself from the gloriously magnificent depths of Boromir's yielding flesh.

The Gondorian's head was thrown back in bliss as he strained his body to take more. Gandalf bent down over his back to bite at the back of his neck. His hand left the man's hip to take hold of the weeping head of his cock and stroke up along the shaft. Boromir's cries became more frantic and his movements matched. Then he stopped making any noise above a whimper and his body tensed. He was so close.

Gandalf suddenly pulled his chest up so that his hands left the ground. He turned his head with his own and plundered the panting mouth. He swallowed the screams of rapture as Boromir's climax erupted from his twitching penis. The corresponding clenching of his ass sent the Istar reeling into orgasm. In a moment of almost instantaneous bliss, both men felt themselves crumble and reform as one being.

Sadly, it didn't last. Gandalf came back to himself in the drowsy sweetness of afterglow. They had collapsed into the loamy riverbank, panting and mewing as reality drifted back to them. The wizard's first truly conscious thought was that Boromir's back felt so good against his chest.

Boromir chuckled then.

"Something funny?" Gandalf said as he moved to remove himself from the man's body.

"Just that I'm dirtier now than I was before I came to bathe." He rolled over to reveal a chest and stomach covered with mud, grass, and his cooling seed.

Gandalf grinned. "Since I'm soiled now as well, I think we should just take a bath together." He then grabbed the man and rolled them both off the bank and into the river.

Cool water enveloped them and Boromir came up sputtering and laughing. Several minutes of dunking and splashing and fondling followed until Gandalf retrieved the soap and started to wash his lover in earnest. He found it tempting to initiate another round of lovemaking but if they did not get back to camp soon, Aragorn would be forced to send someone looking for them. It was a possibility he did not relish.

"Boromir." He said as the man took the soap and began to bathe him. "Should we keep this to ourselves?"

"I don't think that we could if we wanted, I was screaming quite loudly." He grinned as he scrubbed Gandalf's shoulders.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Well then, do you want it to continue?" He watched as the man moved around him. Boromir pressed his chest to Gandalf's back and nuzzled against his wet hair.

"I would like that." His strong arms snaked around Gandalf and squeezed. The wizard sighed, it was so lovely. He turned his head to catch the man's lips in another deep kiss. Boromir's hands slid down Gandalf's chest and stomach, languidly caressing his skin until they found their prize and squeezed.

"Oh well," thought Gandalf, "I just hope he sends Legolas so I can thank him for the soap."

End