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Léodan turned to leave as Éomer dismissed the captains from his quarters. It had been a long, but overall successful day as they exterminated a band of orcs that had been threatening some of the more remote villages of the Mark. Casualties and injuries were few amongst the eorlingas, a rare mercy during such dark times.
“Léodan, a word,” Éomer called after him and he paused, letting the rest of the men leave through the canvas doors.
“My lord?” Léodan questioned as he approached and he had to bite back a grin at the pained expression that crossed the Marshal’s face.
“You, of all people, should not need reminding that rank and title are to be left at the door when we have no company,” Éomer recited with a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly trying to ward off an oncoming headache.
“While that may be true, how else would I get to see that tortured look upon your face,” Léodan replied with a grin. He reached out and took Éomer’s hand by the wrist to pull it away from his brow, instead leaning in to press a kiss upon his palm.
He could hear the combination of frustration and resignation in Éomer’s answering sigh and watched some of the tension bleed from his shoulders. Léodan took a small step forward to narrow the gap between them, his other hand coming up to tuck a loose lock of gold behind Éomer’s ear.
“Tell me now if you were requesting my presence as a captain and I will stop,” he said in a low voice as his hand trailed along Éomer’s jaw until his forefinger and thumb lifted Éomer’s chin, forcing him to meet Léodan’s gaze.
“And if I wasn’t?” Éomer retorted and arched an eyebrow. It was clear they both knew exactly what his intent was though as his free hand came to rest on Léodan’s waist. Léodan practically melted at his touch and closed the gap between them with a searing kiss.
The soft sound of Éomer sighing into his mouth sent Léodan’s mind flying higher than any amount of ale and mead could. Combined with the taste of sweat and the scrape of week-old stubble and Éomer’s hand coming up to tangle in his hair, Léodan’s knees were nearly buckling in a matter of moments.
The soft whine that slipped from his mouth when Éomer pulled away for a breath would’ve been downright mortifying if it weren’t for the way Éomer grinned at the reaction he was able to elicit from him. Léodan leaned back in in an attempt to recapture his lips but Éomer’s grip on his hair tightened and kept him firmly in place. He forced his fluttering eyes to stay open and refocus on the man in front of him, making a concerted effort not to pout about the disruption.
“You’re eager tonight,” Éomer commented softly and his eyes flitted about, clearly searching for some tell from Léodan.
“Is it so wrong that a captain wish to please his marshal?” Léodan replied with a wry grin, but something in his expression flickered. There was something more behind his mirth. Heat. Desire. Hunger.
“Well who am I to keep you from your duties,” Éomer murmured back just as he loosened his grip on Léodan, finally allowing him to surge forward and kiss him once more.
As lips and tongues found a familiar rhythm, so did limbs as Léodan walked Éomer backwards to the edge of his bed roll and slowly guided him down to sit with Léodan close behind, sinking to his knees to straddle him. Éomer groaned at the welcome and familiar weight in his lap and pulled Léodan ever closer, gasping softly as hot lips made their way along his jaw and down his neck.
“I’m afraid this won’t last long if you keep that up,” Éomer panted with a breath of a laugh only to be met with the hum and vibration of Léodan’s laughter against his skin. He sunk one hand into Léodan’s golden mane, lightly caressing the back of his neck while his other arm wrapped tight around Léodan’s back, pulling him closer so their bodies pressed against one another in such a way that Éomer had to bite off a moan.
“You spoil me,” Éomer murmured as Léodan continued his ministrations only to be repaid with a sharp nip at the nape of his neck. He was just grateful what remained of his armor was still protecting his shoulders from similar treatment at this rate.
“You brat,” Éomer laughed and shifted to trade positions, tipping Léodan off his lap and onto the thin mattress until he was flat on his back. But Éomer’s laughter and the joy at getting to return the favor was quickly smothered when Léodan visibly winced on impact. Éomer froze where he kneeled and his eyes narrowed.
“What was that?”
“What do you mean?” Léodan feigned ignorance and cocked his head to the side.
Éomer’s heart sank and his brows knit together. He gave Léodan a once over and failed to find anything out of the ordinary, but it wouldn’t have been the first time Léodan had kept something hidden from him.
“Do not disrespect me with anything but the truth. You’re injured, aren't you?”
The grin on Léodan’s face faltered and Éomer could see it in his eyes that he was trying to find an excuse or a way out of this line of questioning. The continued silence as he failed to respond sent Éomer’s heart down to his stomach.
“Show me.”
“What?”
“Show me where it hurts,” Éomer clarified quietly as he stared Léodan down, now sitting opposite him on the bedroll.
Léodan hesitated a moment before sighing and reluctantly beginning to unclasp his cuirass. He flinched barely as he pulled off the armor and then quickly shed his shirt after. For a moment, Éomer was relieved to see no visible wounds or bruising on his chest, but his relief was short-lived as Léodan turned his back to him.
Éomer couldn’t help his sharp inhale as he saw the deep purple bruising mottling Léodan’s back. The offending hues practically covered his right shoulder blade and spread down beyond the end of his ribs. All this accompanied by an angry red stripe running across his back nearly level with his elbows, further suggesting that he was caught unaware by a blow from behind.
“Léodan…” Éomer started softly in admonishment, only to be cut off almost immediately.
“Nothing’s broken,” the captain argued and turned around once more, hiding the damage from view. “Just bruised, I promise. I may be stubborn but I am not a fool.”
“And yet you intended to bed me as such?” Éomer arched an eyebrow and gave him a long stare, thoroughly unimpressed.
“Pleasure you,” Léodan corrected, though his cheeks began to burn. Whether he was flush from the embarrassment at being lectured or from speaking so plainly of his intentions, it was not clear. “I highly doubt I’d manage being on the receiving end of your…affections, currently.”
Éomer sighed so heavily he practically groaned as scrubbed a hand down his face. How he ended up with such a selfless, stubborn fool of a companion, he did not know.
“You will be the death of me,” Éomer muttered half to himself before shifting closer to him. “Come here.”
Léodan eyed him with suspicion and clear hesitation before he reluctantly worked his way across the mattress to kneel beside him. He was relieved to find that Éomer’s mask of frustration had begun to slip and all that shined through now was his concern. His shoulders slumped slightly as he relaxed, releasing tension he hadn’t even realized had built so quickly.
Before he knew it, Éomer’s knuckles lightly brushed along his cheek in a gentle caress before his hand came to rest cupping his jaw. Léodan could’ve purred at the contact but instead settled for leaning into it and nuzzling his face into the soft touch. He delighted in the soft chuckle his actions drew from Éomer’s lips and broke into a soft smile when it was followed by a short kiss to the crown of his head.
“Do not worry me like that again, do you hear me?” Éomer breathed out as he rested his forehead against Léodan’s. Léodan’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice. They both knew that was not a promise he could keep, not with the times they were living in and the foes they faced increasing at all times.
But still he whispered back, “I wouldn’t dream of it,” and pressed a chaste kiss upon his lips.