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cilil · 7 months

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Maeglin trembled slightly when he felt hot breath tickling his ear and heard Mairon's whisper. "Would it please you if I told you that you are one of very few people who are not insufferable? That you have potential? That you are, admittedly, rather adorable when you try so hard for our projects, for me?"

✦ ⁺ ‧ Day 6 ⁺ Mairon x Maeglin ✦ ⁺ ‧ Synopsis: [Post-canon AU, Fourth Age Valinor] Mairon finds out that Maeglin enjoys being praised. ✦ ⁺ ‧ Featuring/prompts: Hook-up/casual sex, unusual location, semi-public(ish), praise kink, handjob ✦ ⁺ ‧ Warnings: Nothing except that it's smut Also available on AO3

AN: Day 6 of @silmsmutweek. Almost done, but still going strong!

"How is the project going?"

Maeglin nearly missed the next hammer strike on the piece of iron he was currently shaping with utmost concentration, startled by the Maia's voice. Mairon had walked into the forge without making any noise or announcing himself, like a wraith gliding effortlessly through shadows, and was already standing behind him by the time he lifted his head.

"I believe this piece is... almost complete," he said tentatively.

Mairon accepted his answer with a quick nod, first looking over his shoulder to critically survey his work, then moving around the anvil for closer inspection.

At least no obvious mistakes, Maeglin mentally reassured himself. His father had always been a strict and demanding teacher – he remembered it well even after all these years – and Mairon was said to be no different; though for some reason beyond his comprehension, the Maia had decided to be friendly with him and accept his company where his kin wouldn't, and so he had turned to Aulë's forges with an unexpected companion that shared his learned craft, offered to teach him and, most importantly, didn't call him traitor.

Unaffected by the heat of the glowing metal, Mairon carefully took it to measure its weight and size with his bare hands and eyes, and Maeglin was once again reminded that his new teacher greatly surpassed even Eöl in skill, experience and power, being one of the Ainur and one Aulë's first students who had honed his craft since the dawn of the world. The thought was both obvious and incomprehensible to an Elf of Middle-earth who had grown up away from Valinor and looked up to his father, his young fëa never quite shaking off the naive awe with which he had regarded him.

And with this realisation came once more the fear of failure that gnawed at Maeglin so often. Anxiously, he watched as Mairon placed the piece of iron back in its original position on the anvil and nodded thoughtfully.

"You are correct. It is almost complete."

Relief caused Maeglin to finally release the breath he had been holding.

"Just a little more and this one will be exactly how we need it to be. Go on."

Mairon sat down on the nearby workbench and crossed one leg over the other. The thought of him watching made Maeglin fidget nervously, but before he could worry about it too much, the Maia's long fingers swiftly seized a piece of cloth and a box containing gemstones, deliberately distracting himself.

Thank you. Maeglin turned back towards his anvil and focused on the task at hand, thinking about every movement before he made it to be as precise as he possibly could. Ruining a piece so shortly before completion was the worst thing that could happen, as Mairon had told him before. Especially now that he could prove to someone that he was capable of something.

One strike. Two, three. Almost there, but not quite.

Four, five. Still not perfect, he could feel it even though his hands couldn't touch hot metal.

Six, seven. There. He wasn't entirely confident in his judgement, but he feared that an eighth strike would do more harm than good.

Maeglin lowered his hammer and looked up at Mairon whose eyes were on him immediately.

"Yes?"

He had to know what the meaning of this gesture was, but he wanted him to say it, Maeglin quickly realised.

"I think it's done."

"Show me."

His hand trembled slightly when he picked up the piece of metal with his tongs and held it up for Mairon to repeat his inspection.

"Mhmm... yes, it is." There was a small smile on the Maia's lips, a rare sight. "Now it is exactly what we need. Well done."

Well done... Maeglin carefully cooled his work in a nearby bucket of water and felt a rush of excitement he hadn't experienced in a long time, if ever before. He had always hungered for praise, to feel like the people he admired acknowledged him – and now he had finally received it, from an Ainu no less. A small crumb, a few simple words, something that shouldn't make him this happy and have him immediately wanting more, yet it did. Though what could he possibly do to get more than he had already received, which was more than he had thought he would deserve –

His thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly felt Mairon's hands on his shoulders and noticed that he was standing behind him.

"You like it when I say that." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Maeglin's cheeks flushed bright red when he realised how easily the Maia had seen through him. What had given it away? Had he smiled or blushed by accident? He silently cursed himself. Why couldn't he just act like a normal Elf and be the son, nephew, cousin or student the people around him wanted him to be?

"It... it was just nice to hear," Maeglin attempted to explain himself, hoping his answer could cover up his lapse in self-control yet also be honest enough to satisfy Mairon; he would know if he lied to him, he had learned as much after various failed attempts.

"Would you like to hear more?"

The question caught Maeglin off-guard. What was the meaning of this? Was he being toyed with? His muscles tensed reflexively when he felt Mairon's hands rubbing his shoulders, only for him to instinctively lean into his touch and relax soon after – his palms were so wonderfully warm, firm and strong, but not too callous. He wondered how long it had been since he had felt anything like this, being touched by another who wanted to, not out of bare necessity.

His silence seemingly was enough of an answer, though part of him suspected Mairon had already seen through him. In fact, this also was what had drawn him in when they had first met – the faint, inexplicable, but undeniable feeling that this Maia, out of all the beings he had met throughout his life and after, was someone who knew him, understood him even.

He made another mistake then, turning his head to glance at the Maia, assuming that he surely had to be joking, and was met with the heat of burning golden eyes.

There was no need to lie – not that he could have even if he wanted to.

"Yes," he admitted in a shaky voice. "It would – it does please me."

Mairon reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, an unexpectedly tender gesture. "And I do mean it as well, in case you had any doubts about that."

Need flared up within Maeglin's very being, like a jet of flame ignited by his words. It was the last sentence in particular that touched something inside of him, something which had long been neglected and lain dormant, and it kept echoing in his mind.

He needed to know. He had to know if Mairon had meant it, lest he get caught in a web of false hopes and dreams again.

"You... think of me as... adorable?" Maeglin asked shyly.

"I do." Mairon studied his face, watching his mien shift back and forth between confusion and elation. It seemed to please him. "Though I could also call you pretty or handsome, if you prefer that."

Maeglin's thoughts raced. It was too good to be true, wasn't it? In his previous life, he hadn't managed to catch the interest of other Elves, yet now an Ainu was complimenting him. His eyes shone with hope and doubt alike, and he knew Mairon perceived it too.

"Will you ask me to prove that I am not lying to you, Maeglin?" The Maia chuckled lightly. "I wouldn't say no to that."

"I... May I...?"

"Say that you want it and it shall be yours."

The offer was too sweet to pass up. Maeglin nodded eagerly.

"Yes. I want it."

"Excellent."

Without hesitation, Mairon took his hand and led him to a small side room of the forge, his own personal sanctuary where he sketched his projects and stored plans and tools – at least according to rumours. Much like everyone else, Maeglin hadn't dared to enter without explicit permission. From what he could glimpse in passing, the rumours seemed accurate, but his attention was firmly focused on the Maia himself who led him to a wolf pelt on the floor.

Despite his inexperience with matters of courtship and intimacy, Maeglin was not naive. He knew where this was going and felt a mixture of excitement, curiosity and nervousness; he remembered how the other Elves of Gondolin would sometimes exchange stories about such encounters, how they would start bragging about their "conquests" when wine flowed freely and loosened their tongues and how inadequate he had felt. There was a performance of sorts that would be required of him, he had often thought, and he could only hope that Mairon would be willing to teach him in these matters as well.

At least none of them ever bedded an Ainu, a giddy voice inside him whispered when the Maia sat down and guided him to sit on his lap, facing him. Mairon was quite simply stunning, admirable in more ways than one, blessed with an otherworldly beauty that not even the most beautiful among the Elves could quite match. He was like a perfect synthesis of fire given form and the masterpiece of a famous sculptor, fair and frightening at the same time. Merely thinking about being held and touched by him caused Maeglin to shudder in anticipation, his desire beginning to show.

Mairon caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, then let it trail down his neck and spine, visibly pleased to see his body responding to his touch.

"Do you have... experience with these things?" he inquired.

Maeglin was surprised that he would even ask, suspecting that he had made his lack thereof rather obvious, but he found himself appreciating it.

"I don't," he admitted. His fingers twitched nervously as he wondered where he should put his hands.

"Then I shall go easy on you." When Mairon saw a shadow of disappointment falling over his face, he added, "I don't want to hurt you, Maeglin. If I did, I wouldn't prove to you that I meant what I said."

He reached for Maeglin's hands and placed them on his shoulders before undoing the laces of his breeches and freeing his hardening cock with slow, meticulous movements.

"This time, your task shall be to enjoy yourself. Can you do that for me?"

Maeglin nodded, but Mairon wasn't satisfied yet. "Verbal, dearest."

"Y-yes."

"Good." His smile was radiant. "You are doing so well already."

Alongside his growing lust, Maeglin felt his chest swell with pride. He was doing well... His cock twitched eagerly when Mairon's fingers wrapped around it and started stroking him with deft, skillful movements. As pleasant as his hands rubbing his shoulders had been, this was even better. Too many nights had his own hand been his only companion, but just like the shaping of metal, the Maia had mastered the art, whereas he hadn't.

His nails dug into unyielding shoulders, and he would have looked down to watch how he was being touched if soft, full lips hadn't captured his. Mairon kissed him gently at first, restraining his passion for the moment, and Maeglin responded to the best of his ability. He knew he was clumsy and sloppy, breaking the kiss to offer a breathless apology, but his companion cut him off by teasing the tip of his cock with his thumb.

"I told you to enjoy yourself. Don't forget it," Mairon whispered.

Maeglin could only nod and whimper, rolling his hips forward to increase friction.

"There you go. That's my good little Elf."

And he was mercilessly kissed again, muffling a litany of small moans and whines. It felt like he was floating, his fëa light and warm from the praise he kept receiving, his hröa drunk with bliss as he was being pleasured by marvellous, masterful hands. Maeglin was shamelessly moving his hips now, grinding on Mairon's lap; he didn't want this to stop, but the sensation was too much for him, and he spilled his seed all over the Maia's hand.

He stopped moving and sat on his lap, unsure how to proceed. Of course he had long since noticed the sizable bulge he had been rutting against, yet he couldn't tell what exactly would be expected of him. Should he return the favour? Should he offer his body?

Mairon planted another warm, wet kiss on his lips before he withdrew. "Don't worry about me. I meant it when I said I wouldn't ask too much of you."

"But I want to make you feel good as well," Maeglin protested.

"Another time, dearest. And only if you truly desire it."

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