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“Legolas, for what possible reason do we need such a huge turkey?” Thranduil sighed, watching as his lovely son tottered towards him clasping a giant butterball turkey. Legolas merely smiled and adjusted his grip, staggering towards his father, a wide grin stretching his lips.
The shopping cart that Thranduil was pushing shuddered under the force of the turkey being deposited in it, and Thranduil cocked an amused eyebrow.
“There are only two of us, ‘Las, and that turkey looks as though it could feed a family of twenty,” Thranduil chuckled.
Legolas frowned, yet gave the turkey a reassuring pat and corrected his father; “There are three of us.”
Thranduil’s eyes rolled back into his head and he nudged the shopping cart forwards; “Gimli is a gluttonous blob, but even he could not finish such a massive bird.”
“I think we may need to put him on a diet already,” Legolas mused absently, his eyes already scanning the shelves for their next purchase. The king’s eyes followed his beautiful son as he eyed a humungous gammon. He had been, once more, cajoled into doing something he absolutely detested. Shopping on the day before Christmas was complete pandemonium, with silly humans swarming around the shops; all desperate to find what they were looking for. Every single human had a crazed look glazing his or her eyes – Christmas panic had fully set in.
Jingle Bell Rock blared from the store’s speaker system, the tinny clipping of the song irritating Thranduil more than the actual words; which were inane in the extreme. Legolas seemed to enjoy himself though, and Thranduil found that the trip was worth it just to see his prince’s face light up with excitement when he found the perfect turkey. His son had not even had to use sex to addle his senses in order for him to agree to accompany him. No, Legolas had just nuzzled into his father, giving him a longing, lonely look, and sent his thoughts through their bond. Thranduil had relented immediately; how could he let his darling son face the Christmas masses alone?
Now, even though the crowds made Thranduil feel nauseous, he enjoyed himself. Packed grocery stores gave him an instant headache, though the joyous emotions emanating form his son mitigated it. Legolas was ecstatic that his father had joined him, and the Elvenking could feel it.
They did not have many items to acquire on their mission to the store, only a few essentials that they would need over Christmas, and the time seemed to fly when Thranduil was around Legolas. His son brought out the best side of him. He drew out the caring, tolerant facet of Thranduil’s personality that had long been hidden or abandoned by the king, trodden down by the pain and the heartbreak he had experienced over his long life. Legolas was, slowly but surely, healing his Ada’s broken heart. He was breaking through all of Thranduil’s barriers and allowing the king to feel joy and hope once more, and he was infinitely grateful for that.
“Should we get Gimli a doughnut?” Legolas asked, eyeing up the sweet treats that were laid out before them.
It took all of Thranduil’s considerable willpower to prevent himself from rolling his eyes dramatically, “You just said he should be on a diet! And now you want to enable him with doughnuts?”
Legolas motioned at the doughnuts he wanted to the server behind the counter as he said; “But it is what he was eating when I found him. I think he misses them…”
The withering gaze Thranduil shot at Legolas made the price sigh and shrug; “… and it’s Christmas.”
There it was, right there, justification for all things. Thranduil knew better than to argue with Legolas on such matters, and he watched as his son received a huge bag of decadent doughnuts. Gimli was sure to become obese if they did not curb his appetite soon.
“Come on, we need some more wine, you’ve depleted our stock,” Legolas trilled happily, almost dragging his father along the aisles. Legolas was an expert at negotiating crowds, and soon the elves were staring up at rows upon rows of neatly stacked alcohol. Thranduil grinned, truly happy in his environment for the first time that day. Surrounded by an exhaustive array of wines, the king was in his element. Thranduil was so consumed by the choice of wine for their Christmas feast, that he did not notice his son smiling gently at him. Nor did he notice when Legolas sidled up to him, a look of mischievousness on his pretty face.
“Ada?” Legolas purred through their bond, his inner voice sending a shiver through Thranduil’s body.
“Hmm…” Thranduil hummed, his eyes still roving the shelves.
“Do you know where you’re standing?” Legolas teased, nudging his father’s fëa.
“Mhm…” Thranduil was still distracted by the wine.
“You’re standing under mistletoe,” Legolas clarified, and Thranduil’s brow furrowed. Just above the two elves, a bunch of mistletoe was sneakily tied. He spun, turning to his son, and was met with the hot press of lips and a small whimper. Their fëa bond blazed, encompassing them both, and Thranduil’s eyes slipped shut in pleasure. The grocery store melted away, leaving the two elves in a tender embrace that transcended reality. Where they were transported was calm and quiet and devoid of distractions. They were the only two beings alive, and it was wonderful.
Legolas was the first to draw away from their kiss, his cheeks flushed with a delicate blush and a conspicuous bulge in his pants. Thranduil gulped and licked his lips, darting his tongue out to taste Legolas. His son always tasted of a hint of coffee and mint and sex – he was delicious.
Dipping his head, Legolas turned, blinking up at the wine and trying to push his lascivious thoughts away. How Thranduil always managed to turn him on so quickly was a mystery to the elf, and now he had a semi-hard cock to deal with. He should know better than to kiss his king in a public place. He knew he had developed a ravenous kink for public sex and now his body was demanding completion.
Thranduil smirked at his squirming son, revelling in Legolas’ arousal and embarrassment. The prince’s teasing had backfired on him – spectacularly so. The Elvenking knew very well of his son’s kink, and he could just imagine Legolas wanting to press him up against the wine in front of them and have his dirty way with him.
Thranduil’s eyebrows shot up when Legolas let out a little whimper, his body trembling as Thranduil’s imaginings entered his mind. His cock ached and twitched, becoming painfully hard at the image of pressing his Ada up against the shelves in a very public place.
Thranduil tilted his head in interest and ventured an experiment. He imagined Legolas, on his knees with his king’s cock in his mouth, pleasuring him behind the cheese counter. Legolas sucked on Thranduil with a voracious appetite, lapping up his king’s cum when Thranduil spent himself inside his warm mouth. Legolas gasped and clamped a hand over his mouth, his startled eyes growing wide. His entire body was aching, thrumming for Thranduil. Gods, he needed his father, right then and there.
“So, Legolas,” Thranduil said, a smug grin lighting up his face and his hand reaching out for the first bottle of wine it found. Thranduil was no longer interested in wine, playing with his son in this new way he had discovered was infinitely more entertaining. “What else do we need?”
Legolas gritted his teeth and shifted uncomfortably. His pants were achingly snug, and the bulge in them was unmistakable. The prince scuffled behind the shopping cart as quickly as he could, hiding his need for his father. He gulped and dropped his eyes from Thranduil’s.
“Uh, we need some more… uh, oh… tinsel… for the… oh gods…” Legolas shut his eyes in pleasure, clearly seeing the image his father was transmitting to his mind’s eye.
He was standing between his father’s legs, thrusting into Thranduil’s tight heat as the Elvenking supported himself on one of the cashier’s counters. Thranduil moaned and writhed and shoved himself down onto his prince; Legolas mindless with pleasure inside of him. The entire image was dripping with Thranduil’s arousal for his son, and the king sent wave after wave of teasing nudges into Legolas’ fëa.
Legolas sighed and moaned when his father faded the image away, preparing to conjure another. Thranduil was dangerous, this new facet to their bond allowing him to arouse his son from a distance.
“…for the… tree…” Legolas continued, panting out great puffs of air, “…Gimli decided to… to pull it all down… oh… fuck…”
Thranduil was walking beside his son as they reached the aisle that housed the Christmas decorations, all the while transmitting depraved images to his mind.
He imagined Legolas pressed against one of the large fridge doors, with himself splayed out against him – claiming him from behind. He visualised the way Legolas’ hot breaths would pant out against the cool glass, fogging it up deliciously. He imagined the feeling of sliding in and out of his son; the sweet drag of his cock inside Legolas’ sick passage, the way his body would clench and grip him as he thrust, and the trembling of Legolas’ pulse point as he sunk his teeth into his neck.
“Ada!” Legolas pleaded through their bond.
“Yes, iôn-nín?” Thranduil answered innocently.
“I’m going to… oh… I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
Thranduil tried to quash the beaming smile that pulled his lips outwards, but it was no use. He sent his son another debauched image, the grocery store theme he had been incorporating giving way to a more depraved scene of them making love on their bed. Handcuffs restrained Legolas’ hands and Thranduil was pounding into his clenching body, drawing whimpers and moans from his lips. Thranduil imagined the motion; in and out, in and out… and the sweet tug of orgasm as Legolas came between their stomachs.
“Ada!” Legolas whined out aloud, now begging for mercy.
Thranduil acted swiftly, pushing his son away from the shopping cart and shoving him behind a particularly ornate Christmas tree that looked as though a blind pensioner had decorated it. Legolas made to protest, his eyes flying open wide and his mouth stuttering out excuses; but Thranduil paid him no heed.
The king made sure that they were well shielded by the tree from other shoppers, before he slipped his hand down Legolas’ pants and gripped his trembling cock with warm fingers. The prince bucked and moaned and sagged against his king. Every excuse left Legolas’ mind as his father pumped him, slowly yet deftly, and his thoughts became scattered and fragmented.
“Is this what you want, Legolas? Do you want me to make you come where anyone could stumble upon us?” Thranduil purred into Legolas’ ear. He sucked the tip of it into his hot mouth and sucked harshly, synchronising his sucks and the twisting of his hand on his son’s arousal.
“Mhmmm…” Legolas could not form words, even in his mind. Their soul-bond vibrated with the hum of sex and Thranduil twisted his hand sinfully again and again, drawing a string of moans and pants from Legolas.
“You want me to jerk you off, right here behind a pathetically decorated tree and pressed up against a shelf of tacky Christmas ornaments?” Thranduil nipped at Legolas’ ear, digging the points of his teeth into their delicate structure.
“Yes!” Legolas sighed, his head thudding backwards and lolling sideways when Thranduil let go of his ear with a depraved pop.
Thranduil continued the rubbing of his son’s hard cock, but he no longer communicated to him with words through their bond. Instead, he sent flashing memories of their frantic couplings.
There was the night that they first became one – Halloween night. Thranduil had taken his son, panting and desperate, on a rickety table in their entrance hall. He remembered the night well, and sent Legolas flashes of moans, gasps and the moment that he first thrust his cock into his body. It was glorious debauchery, and Thranduil revelled in the memories as they swirled between them. Legolas sighed when his father’s emotions were also transmitted. He felt the love – the utter devotion – of Thranduil, and it filled his heart with joy.
Then there was their night spent on the rug in front of their classy Christmas tree. Their lovemaking had been tender and wine-infused and oh so delicious. Legolas was reminded of the way Thranduil’s mouth ha stretched over his cock for the very first time, and he thrust and bucked into his father’s strong hand.
And then there was their ravenous kisses and fumbling rutting after he had found little Gimli. Suddenly, the memory of Chinese food and hot lips against his filled Legolas’ mind and surrounded him with warmth and a warm blush. The prince was then encircled by chilly snow, his father’s hand pumping him once more and a snowman looming over their prone forms.
The smell of cookies invaded the delirious prince’s mind as Thranduil conjured memories of baked goods and amazing blowjobs. Legolas could feel the heat from the oven and the writhing of his father against his thighs. But then, all at once, he was back in a darkened cinema, coming in spurting jets all over his king’s hand.
Visions of spaghetti bolognaise and ice-skating merged and swirled before the prince, reminding him of the way his father’s hard cock had felt sliding between his ass cheeks and the way Thranduil tasted when he pressed him up against a door frame in full view of a gaggle of startled humans.
And then Legolas was covered in fur once more, his father thrusting against him violently from behind; setting their soul-bond on fire as he fucked him over his study desk. He writhed and whimpered, mirroring his actions in real life, and he was so lost. He was lost in his father, and the magnificent memories of their love. It was as though he was watching snippets of the dirtiest, sexiest movie he could imagine, all the while feeling every tender emotion and sensing every dirty thought his father had had.
The imaginings in his mind’s eye swirled and changed, allowing him to experience the intense sensation of claiming his father once more. He could feel Thranduil in his hands, could feel his trembling body stretch to accommodate his cock, and it made the prince grip out onto his father’s body, warning of his impending climax.
It took only the vision of a Christmas hat, and a secret fantasy of licking eggnog off of Legolas’ naked body, for the prince to whine his pleasure. He was close… so close… But Thranduil teased him mercilessly; preventing him from coming with strategic twists of his hand and pauses in his ministrations.
Eventually – eventually – Thranduil took pity on his poor trembling son and allowed him to reach his peak, all the while flashing random memories from their lovemaking and sucking on the prince’s neck.
“Come for me,” Thranduil growled through their bond, and Legolas sagged against him, his eyes shut tightly and his body twitching slightly as he came.
Thranduil sighed and rested his forehead against Legolas’, bringing his soiled hand up to his mouth decadently. Legolas’ eyes darkened and his pupils dilated in arousal when Thranduil licked himself; cleaning his son’s cum from his fingers. It was so incredibly hot that Legolas whimpered out aloud, his knees almost buckling when Thranduil eyed him seductively and inserted his whole finger into his mouth and sucked harshly.
After his hand was clean, Thranduil sunk to his knees before his prince, placing an ethereal kiss to the tip of Legolas’ pink cock. He nuzzled his face into the rumpled material of his pants, inhaling the scent of his son deeply, and then took Legolas’ flagging erection into his mouth. The prince sighed and threaded his fingers through his father’s hair, burying his hands in his golden mane and massaging his scalp as he tried to recover from his intense orgasm.
Thranduil sucked dutifully, gazing up at Legolas from under dark eyelashes as he cleaned him off. He did not waste any of his son’s essence, and he licked and nipped at Legolas until there was no longer any hint that he had just jerked his son off behind a Christmas tree in a busy store. The Elvenking rose to his feet smoothly, though the large bulge in his pants caused him to squirm.
After a few moments of panting and the hurried rustling of clothes being pulled back together, the two elves emerged from behind the Christmas tree. No one around them seemed to have noticed their illicit activities, and they paid the blonde elves very little attention.
Legolas cleared his throat as he walked over to their cart and gripped the handle tightly. Thranduil had to admit that he did a sterling job in concealing the fact that he had just spent himself in a grocery store. The king sidled up to his son, tossing a string of tinsel around Legolas’ neck and pressing a hot, damp kiss to the side of his head.
“I’ll be at the checkout counter when you have recovered,” Thranduil rasped. He turned then, having an increasingly difficult time masking his own arousal. His hard cock jutted against the zipper in his pants and he sighed out a steadying breath as he retreated form his son. Their activities had left him hard and wanting, and he could not wait to get home and ravage his prince in the manner that he so desired.
Legolas blinked as he watched his father slink away, no doubt to try and prevent Legolas from inflicting similar mental torture on him. The prince took a large, calming breath and composed himself. He breathed steadily and deeply for a few moments, before a determined look set into his eyes and he strode off after his father.