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“Fíli!”
“Mm?”
“Fíli!!”
“Mm?”
“Fíli look!!”
Fíli blinked as a bare leg was thrust into his field of vision, effectively knocking his book from his hands.
“Wha-?”
“Feel it, Fíli, feel how smooth it is.”
The leg wiggled slightly in some kind of attempt to coax his fingers to its warm, smooth surface.
“Did you steal my razor to do this? Will I be slicing up my face tomorrow with blunt blades?” he asked, even as he obligingly ran his hand up the soft skin, broad palm sliding from ankle to knee, the sensation making Kíli shiver.
“No?”
Fíli sighed, hand continuing its journey over the knee and up the smooth expanse of thigh to stop under the hem of the baggy jumper Kíli was wearing, fingertips brushing over the lace hidden beneath.
“Maybe?” Kíli tried again, faced with Fíli’s raised eyebrow and stroking fingers, “But don’t they feel smooth?”
“Very,” Fíli agreed, “Though I’m not sure it’s worth me hacking at my face with a blunt razor come morning.”
“Maybe I can make it worth it?” Kíli suggested, drawing his leg back so he could clamber onto the older man, straddling his lap.
“And what could possibly make it worth it?” Fíli asked, a smirk teasing at his lips as both hands ran up Kíli’s thighs, fingers petting the soft, sensitive skin.
Grinning, Kíli leant closer, lips brushing against Fíli’s as he spoke, “I’m sure I can think of something.”