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Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the dark room, illuminating the Milk Wood flooring and the Wine red walls, beaming an annoying strip of light onto a restless Man's face.
Galion supposed it was time to get up, if he would not be allowed to sleep.
With a sigh he remembered what that day was- Thranduil's Birthday. Not the first he had experienced with the other, mind, and certainly not the last, but this time marked a new event entirely. Thranduil would be turning 40, and it was the end of the world.
To his left the Birthday by slept, hair tossed over the satin pillows, still annoyingly well kept. His mouth was parted just slightly, the faintest lines around his eyes the only indicator of his age. There should be many more, frown lines and (maybe) laughter lines, but there was nothing. He was ageless, and perfect.
This made Galion smile. So rarely he got the time to reflect and observe without it being weird, or noticed.
The clock read Seven, much later than their usual rising time, but with no work to be done they had time, for the first time in a while. Thranduil had slept long enough.
Galion moved up, kneeling on the bed. From high above, Thranduil looked picturesque. How unfair. Carefully he let his hands roam freely, light appreciating stokes down the plane of Thranduil's toned chest, shirtless of course, he was a /radiator/ at night. Instinctively his eyes closed, a deep satisfying sigh leaving his chest.
It had been so when they first met- electric, as soon as their hands would 'accidentally' brush, setting every nerve alight.
Fingertips traced the curve of the neck, sinking into the dip between collar bones and going even further south to lightly trace both nipples.
This caused Thranduil to wake, icy eyes revealing themselves, too focused for someone that had just woken up, and his breath was already deep.
They both said nothing, the looks they both gave enough to deliver what each Man meant.
And so Galion moved atop of Thranduil without a seconds hesitation, invading his throat with peppered kisses, bites and suckles, hovering again on the dip of collarbones before dropping lover. Down, down to the V of hipbones that fenced in subtle muscle and playfully lingering on the waistband of black boxers.
He looked up, emerald eyes falling on closed lids that gave him all the permission he needed.
Swiftly they briefs were removed, revealing Thranduil's already growing arousal. Eager Sod, Galion thought. Were it not so delicate a subject, he would have made an age comment.
So instead he grinned at the fragile ego of his Husband, dipping his head in the way that he had done so many times before. Running his tongue slowly over him, up and down, so lightly it was barely there, eye trained on Thranduil's face.
Hands found their way into his hair, securing themselves so close to the roots as if clinging on for life.
“/Galion/.” Thranduil was whining, which was no surprise, seeing the state that he had been put in. Impossibly hard, Galion almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“/Thranduil/.” He retorted, earning himself a very sharp tug. His own self was ready, of course, the small noises from stony faced Thranduil being enough to nearly destroy him, but this was not his Birthday, so he could bide his time. Waiting no longer, he took Thranduil fully in his mouth, dipping up and down again and again, sighing when he was breathless and pinning hips to the bed. Thranduil was just /delicious/.
If the nasty little moans were anything to go by, adding to the iron grip in his hair and desperate wriggling of hips, Galion would say that Thranduil was nearly done.
He hummed lowly again, allowing just a scratch of teeth to graze the other. A quick intake of air and a tight grasp of hair later, Galion was swallowing everything, practically cleaning Thranduil, trailing kisses again to parted lips that panted so nicely.
“Happy Birthday, Love.”
“So /that/ is what it was for. I almost regret letting you now.” Thranduil pulled him into an embrace, eyebrows raised and lips in a grin.
“Don't lie to yourself,” Galion pulled away, manoeuvring himself off of the Queen sized bed of tangled sheets to open the curtains. If the sun wanted in, let it come in.
“Come on, we have to get ready. We aren't getting any...” He paused at the stank face, “Just get ready, dear.”
After their uneventful showers and the rigorous routine of Thranduil they were eventually ready, Thranduil reaching for his ever-present tie, Galion in his constant black.
“I suppose you have today planned? Maybe carting me off to a retirement home.”
'Don't tempt me', Galion thought.
“You aren't that old yet, but I will keep my options open.”
“I suppose then you will become the Wicked Stepfather, mistreat our Son and gamble our money.” Galion tried not to have a palpitation every time Thranduil called Legolas their own. There was no biological right to him for Galion- he was simply their staff to begin with, but it had evolved, and now Legolas was his, and he would never give up his claim.
“Come now, like I could gamble /all/ of our money.”
“What did I marry you for?”
“My quick wit, obviously. Now come on, we are on a schedule.” Galion slipped out of the room, a confused Thranduil in tow.
“A schedule? What exactly are you planning?”
“We're going to the beach, Dear.”
“You need a schedule for that? You /do/ run a tight ship.”
Galion smirked all the way to the Kitchen, where Legolas was waiting.
“Good Morning, Legolas- and Aragorn, I see.” Thranduil shot Legolas a look- they hadn't known that Aragorn was here. In fact, they /never/ knew when Aragorn was in their house. They were both sitting at the table now, their spinning stools turned into each other.
“Morning Dad.” Legolas grinned at them both. “Happy Birthday!”
.oOo.
The sun shone bright, burning sunglass-shaped tans onto pale faces. Apart from Aragorn, who had a naturally darker skin. The git.
Thranduil burnt as though he were on the sun itself. Galion did not. Legolas burnt across his nose, so by his logic, if he got bigger sunglasses he would be okay. Galion let him get on with it.
“Boys, do you want an ice-cream?” Thranduil called across to the pair in front of him, a patient Galion waiting at the window of the Van.
“A bubblegum Ice cream, and a twister, please!” Legolas shouted back after a moment of what seemed like an internal battle. Both Aragorn and Legolas carried their boards, both waiting for the chance to catch whatever meagre waves they could.
Galion gave the order, and his hands were promptly filled with the four desserts. They went into instant-melting mode, the two pairs eagerly eating what they could to avoid the sticky dripping.
It was so warm out.
They approached the beach, and it was surprisingly less busy than what was usual for summertime. This, they all liked.
Finding a somewhat secluded spot they sat, Galion laying his beach towel next to Thranduil's. The boys however, sat on their surf boards.
“I can't wait to see a dolphin.” Legolas smiled, flicking his head towards the Sea. All eyes turned to him, brows raised above lenses.
“Legolas, you /do/ know that we don't have Dolphins, right?” Aragorn said gently, as if revealing the news of a sudden Death.
“Yes we do, it's the Sea.” It was said as the most obvious thing in the world.
“It is the Sea, yes. But there are no Dolphins.” Galion stated, also softly.
“I'm not following.”
Aragorn threw a hopeless look to Galion, begging for any help. Sometimes, Legolas was impossible.
“Don't worry Son, you'll see the Dolphins.” Thranduil said, breaking the tension with a sweet smile.
“I know I will. Thanks, Dad.”
“It's no problem. Now go, enjoy the weather.” Thranduil waved his arm in dismissal, a grinning Legolas pulling eagerly on his hand.
“C'mon, lets leave the pensioners to it.”
“Don't push it, Legolas.” There was no threat in the Father's tone, it was Family banter, but Legolas remained silent.
“Look at them, holding hands.” Both men leaned back on their towels, looking at the forms of both boys sitting on their boards, the waves slowly ebbing them further out. Their fingers were linked, keeping them both together.
“Don't be such a grumpy Old man.”
“I am not /old/, Galion. I just...” Thranduil trailed off into a moan.
“We have long since left the Honeymoon period. Let them enjoy what freedom they have.”
“I just worry that he will grow too attached. If it fall out from under him...” Thranduil trailed off, eventually turning to face the other. Galion understood why his Husband had these concerns, losing a lot of his Family as he had done was not an easy experience, but often it was an unavoidable one.
“Would you rather him show disinterest? Hesitation? Legolas shows as much passion as you with all that he does. He's not a boy anymore, dear.” Legolas would have to find out things for himself, no longer mollycoddled by his Father.
“I suppose you are right. As always.” With a smug smile Galion lay back, black beach shorts standing out against the sand, Thranduil's silver shorts a compliment to the other pair. Sand was slightly irritating to Galion; much like glitter it got /everywhere/ and /never/ disappeared- not matter how hard you vacuum.
“Are you wearing sun cream?” Galion tutted, the redness of pre-burning beginning to make an appearance on the white skin next to him.
“Yes.”
“Don't lie to me. Are you?”
“No.”
“Do you want a repeat of last time?” Galion didn't think he could bare another solid week of whinging about 'Karma' and endless rants about the lack of staff holding beach umbrellas over him at all times.
Not again.
Galion pulled Thranduil over him, each of his legs placed around hips, feet digging into sand.
The beach bag was full of towels, water and sun products. He was always prepared.
Grabbing the cream he popped the cap, ignoring the 'small amount' direction.
“Do you remember when we first came here?”
“This is where I first kissed you.” Galion began massaging in the cream, slowly and heavily, the deepened breathing of Thranduil being exactly what he wanted to achieve.
“Indeed. And do you remember what we did /after/?”
“As soon as we got home, you mean.”
“Yes, as soon as we got home. When I pushed you up against the door. Can you remember what I did after that?”
“You ruined my favourite shirt.”
“I did. And after that?”
“You teased me so badly I thought I would die.”
“Yes,” Galion almost moaned it out, so sultry and low that his mouth barely moved. “I dragged my nails so harshly down you, your poor skin was throbbing,”
“Yes.”
“I undid your trousers with my teeth- I did a /lot/ with my teeth.”
“I chose well.”
And he gave one last swipe across the shoulders so relaxed under his hands, giving a soft kiss to the back of the now slick neck. The sounds of gulls and the tide on the shore throwing back their memories to years ago, when each of their lives had completely changed.
“We both did. I'll never forget it.”
“I should hope not.”
“I have something for you. I was going to wait but... Well, fuck it, really.”
“Oh?”
Galion had gone through this a million times with Legolas. Buying for Thranduil was extremely hard- what could you give to someone who had /everything/?
So he had opted to choose something unconventional, and not exactly useful, but still relevant.
Reaching into the bag he had so adamantly carried Galion pulled out a large, thick, black book, wrapped (badly) in metallic Silver ribbons.
“Legolas helped me wrap it.”
“I can tell.” He raised a brow, quickly ripping off the taped ribbons and flinging the book open.
Inside it was full; of pictures of their past, and Thranduil's own. Legolas' first baby pictures, the first Father's day card his son had made him, and pictures of his own Mother and Father. A select few of their wedding day, and the Honeymoon after. The selfie that they had taken that lead to their first kiss, and many more blank spaces.
“I did not fill it all, as I hoped that we could take more.”
Thranduil did not respond, his eyes so fixed on the book. Galion quickly thought that he was wrong- that it would have been better to get him new cuff links or a car, until the blonde head turned to his own.
“When did you..?” His fingers stroked softly over the images, his mouth pursed in a thin line.
“I dug through some things... If you don't like it, I can-”
“Shut up.”
“Excuse me?” Galion leaned forward, crossing his arms. There was no need for him to be rude, even if he didn't mean it.
“I'm having a moment.” Thranduil started fanning his face, tossing his sunglasses to the side.
“Do I need to phone the paramedics?” Galion shifted forward, a grin of joy at the watery blue eyes.
“/Galion/.” Hastily he wiped at his eyes.
“Sorry. Do you like it?”
“I /love/ it. I love /you/. It's perfect. You are perfect.” Accepting Thranduil's kiss he beamed even brighter.
“I love you too, Dear.” He sighed, briefly wondering what Thranduil would be like at Sixty- still dramatic, but with a more broken hip?
“How did you find these?”
“Legolas helped me, actually. He knew where a lot of this was. They call us 'Thralion'.”
“Thralion?” Thick black brows rose, as if asking for more intel.
“He and Aragorn combined us. I think it's a new slang thing, or something.”
“I wouldn't know.”
“That's because we are old, Dear. Lets face it.” They resumed their positions, lying back on the sand, Galion so proud of himself that his chest puffed out. He would be /so/ rewarded for that tonight.
“So long as you get wrinkles before me.”
“You will give me them, no doubt.”
“So rude.”
“Yes, dear.”
“I mean, what even /is/ Thralion?” Thranduil said, after a long silence, his frown lines more visible now he was under the sun.
“Did you just say 'what even is'? You talk to Youths too much.”
“That does not answer my question.”
“It's the combination of our names. And something to do with boats, or whatever.”
“Boats?” Galion shrugged to that. Maybe they actually were both old, but if age meant not comparing people to aquatic vehicles, then they would both be okay.