第 103 页

Fingon groaned, half laughing as Maedhros carefully nibbled the tip of his ear then slid his hands down Fingon’s back to knead his ass. “Oh my god, I am so happy for you.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Maedhros whispered into Fingon’s hair. “I’m sorry I’ve been too tired and stressed to – ”

“It’s okay.” Fingon ran his hands through Maedhros’ hair. “Seriously, Mae, I totally understand, and I’ve been pretty wiped out too. Naw, don’t sweat it, I don’t actually base how much I love you on how often we have sex.”

“I’ve missed it, though.”

“Me too,” Fingon admitted, and then laughed as Maedhros lifted him up once again, giving his buttocks a firm squeeze as he did. “Where are we going?” he purred, nuzzling into Maedhros’ hair as he wrapped his legs around Maedhros’ waist.

“Couch.”

“Mmmm.” Fingon nuzzled Maedhros’ throat. “I like the sound of that. Damn, for the willowy teacher type, you are stronger than you look.” Maedhros was still carrying him, only laying him down when they reached the couch and he could stretch out between Fingon’s legs. “What’s the plan, Mr. Fëanorion?”

Maedhros rolled his eyes. “I told you, no role play if I ever want to be able to hear students call me that without turning bright red.” He kissed Fingon’s neck, and the two of them indulged in some long, clinging kisses before Maedhros pulled back again. “But hey, thank you for being patient with me. I know it’s been a stressful few weeks. Months.”

“No problem, you know I’m here for you.”

“I do. And Finno…”

“Yes?”

“Let me return the favor.”

All of a sudden Maedhros’ voice was very serious, and Fingon looked up in surprise. “Uhh. Okay?”

Maedhros brushed the hair out of Fingon’s eyes. “How are you doing?”

Fingon cocked his head. “I’m doing…all right.” He looked suspiciously at Maedhros. “Seriously, I thought we were moving towards you worshipping my glorious ass, if your groping was anything to go by. Are we shifting to playing nurse instea – ”

“How was work today?”

Fingon stiffened as his playful mood dissipated rapidly. “It was fine.”

“Have you noticed,” said Maedhros softly, “that those two words are the most you’ve said about work in over a month? And even before that, I hardly heard anything.”

“I’m not going to bore you with details you already know, Nelyo.”

“I understand not wanting to dwell too much on it, or avoiding mentioning something that feels stressful,” said Maedhros, gentle but relentless. “But I can tell you’re not happy. Talk to me about it.”

“I – what is there to talk about?” Fingon started to get angry. “It’s a job, it’s a fucking job, whatever, I make good money, I pay our bills – ”

“Findekáno, you could work as a barista and we’d still pay our bills. We’d have to slim down some, but we’d manage. Especially next year when I’m making a full teacher’s salary.” Maedhros looked down at him, implacable. “I’m here. Talk to me, and take money out of the equation. How is it working for your dad?”

“What is there to say?” demanded Fingon again. “I’m – I’m doing the job I have to do. I’m helping my father. I’m…setting up the company succession.” He drew in a shuddery breath. “It’s not what I planned, but whatever, it could be worse. I can’t complain.”

“Yes, you can. Just because it could be worse doesn’t mean you forfeit your right to feel unhappy.” Maedhros touched Fingon’s cheek. “I know your dad, and I know he wouldn’t want you to do something that made you miserable. He wants you to be happy, no matter what – you reminded me of the same thing, once, about my own father. And you were right.”

“What my dad would tell me and what he needs are different things,” said Fingon miserably.

“That sounds familiar.” Maedhros shook his head, a teasing grin on his lips as he nudged Fingon. “And to think I’m the one who gets the reputation as a martyr.”

“Nelyo – ”

“Why force yourself to suffer? You know money doesn’t need to be the thing that keeps you at Finwë Corp. We’ll make do. We both have savings, I’ll be making better money soon, we’ll be fine.”

Fingon gave a strangled laugh and buried his face in Maedhros’ shoulder. “I don’t want to do this.”

Maedhros stroked the back of his neck. “To which ‘this’ are you referring?”

“Talking about this. Thinking about this. Talking and thinking about this everything. Let’s go back to being happy for you.”

Maedhros sighed and kissed him again. “You are always there for everyone else. Why won’t you let me be there for you?”

“Look, I’m going to keep working for my dad, until he retires, and then I’ll take over. That’s the plan. That’s how it’s lined up. It wasn’t what I thought it would be, but life never is, right? Now please, please, let’s stop talking about it.”

“We can..."

"Good."

"...for now. But I’m going to keep checking in. And you have permission to rant, all right? To whine and yell and bitch and moan about this sucky position you’re in, and I’ll be here for you, no matter what, no matter what you decide to do. But don’t cut me out, use me. Vent. You are allowed to vent.”

“Fine, I’ll do that,” said Fingon, mentally preparing not to do so.

“Oh, really, I got you to agree that easily?” Maedhros looked like he knew exactly what was going on in Fingon’s head.

Fingon rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “You know you can’t just make every burden lighter, right?”

“It’s what you do,” said Maedhros quietly. “I don’t care if you brush me off now, but when you’re ready, I’m here.”

“Yeah,” said Fingon, his tone gentling. “I know that.”

They lay together quietly, Fingon pulling Maedhros close to him and Maedhros nuzzling against his hair. Maedhros’ phone buzzed, but Maedhros silenced it without looking.

Fingon broke the silence. “Actually, can I ask you something now?”

“Anything, love.”

Fingon waggled his eyebrows. “You mentioned, at one point, gosh, can’t remember when exactly, something about going down on me…”

“Here, or in the shower?” said Maedhros at once, and Fingon grinned.

“The shower is so far away.”

At once, Maedhros slipped lower on the couch and began busily undoing Fingon’s belt, ignoring his phone, which was buzzing again. Fingon closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the armrest, feeling, to his surprise, a little lighter already.

* * *

2.

Celegorm sat down on the bench at the side of the rink, wiping an arm over his sweaty forehead. Aredhel did another figure eight out on the ice before coming to a perfect hockey stop in front of him, sending a shower of ice chips into his eyes. He shook his head and grabbed for her, dragging her down into his lap as he growled, “Stop showing off.” She laughed and let him grapple her for a moment before wriggling free and dropping to the bench beside him.

“Pooped out already?” she asked teasingly, as he bent down to start unlacing his skates. “Does this mean you don’t want to start a new pick up game?”

“Can’t feel my toes anymore.”

“Ahh, whatta wimp. When I was a child,” she drawled. “We used to walk to school in the driving snow, over boundless ice, uphill and down, and did you ever catch us whining?”

Celegorm ignored her, massaging his frozen foot and grimacing, and Aredhel kicked her skates against the ice. “So we’re done for the day?”

“I fancy keeping all my toes, so yeah.” Celegorm stretched out his legs and groaned. “Also I am tired of falling on my ass.”

“It’s a good thing you’ve got some padding back there.” Aredhel examined her mittens serenely. “I haven’t fallen at all.”

“Like I said: show-off. It’s cold and it’s getting dark and there are too many kids here. What say we go home and make some hot lemon whiskeys?”

Aredhel went quiet, looking down at the toes of her skates, and Celegorm nudged her. “Hm? I said, how ‘bout we head home and make – ”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

Celegorm raised his eyebrows and pulled his gloves back on. “What, want something other than whiskey? We’ve got rum, too.”

“Um. That’s it, actually.” Aredhel rubbed the back of her neck, still not looking at him. “I’m actually trying to…cut back?”

“On what?”

“Drinking?”

Celegorm laughed. “Right, sure. I’ve been meaning to tell you I’m going vegan, myself, and – ”

“I’m serious, Tyelko.” Aredhel didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m trying to drink less.”

Celegorm paused. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Celegorm rubbed a gloved thumb over his lips. “Uh. Okay. Is this, like, you hinting something to me?”

“What?” Aredhel looked up and stared at him. “No. I mean, other than hinting that I might be… It’s just that I want to drink less, or should, anyway.”

“Why?” Celegorm was still looking suspicious. “Everyone drinks a lot in their twenties. It’s like, the norm. So you party some, who the fuck cares? You don’t drink more than I do.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh come on, I can outdrink you any day of the – ”

“I’m not talking about us getting weird at parties every once in a while. I drink more than you, Tyelko. Like on a daily basis. And I drink differently than you do.” Aredhel clenched her mittens in her hands. “But I’m not going to just argue with you about just how much of an – heavy drinker I am. That’s something I’m still kind of having a hard time quantifying, anyway. But believe it or not, this isn’t about you.”

“I – ” Celegorm looked at her, and saw how bright and angry her eyes were. “Shit, don’t get upset. I am just a bit confused, ‘k? This came outta nowhere. I never thought you had a problem.”

“Me neither,” snapped Aredhel, and then visibly calmed herself. “That’s not true. I’m pretty good at hiding it,” she said softly. “And I still don’t know…a lot of things. But I’m trying…”

“So what, you’re not drinking as much? At all?”

“I’m trying for less, to start. That’s what they say to try. They say if you can’t manage to cut back, if it’s got to be all or nothing, that might be an indicator.”

“Of what? Who says that?”

“I’ve been going to some…meetings.”

“Meetings. Like, shit, all that ‘My name is Bippy and I’m a drunk’ thing?”

“Yes, all that.”

“Oh.” Celegorm fell silent, and Aredhel chewed her lip, her eyes flashing fiercely. “Does this mean I shouldn’t drink around you?”

“You can do whatever you want,” said Aredhel shortly. “God knows I’m not going to judge you.”

“No, I mean, like, will it be hard for you?”

“I don’t know.”

“So if it is hard, does that mean you won’t come out with me anymore? Go to parties? Come to – ”

“I don’t know, Tyelko, okay?” Aredhel stood up, forgot she was on skates, and slipped, almost falling. Celegorm half rose to steady her, and she yanked away from him. “This is really fucking new, and it’s really fucking hard, but I’m trying, because Elenwë said – ”

“Oh, well, Elenwë. She doesn’t even drink anymore! Don’t you think she probably just doesn't wanna be left out at parties anymore, just wants you to join her in abstinence, or whatever?”

“No! Don’t talk about her like – she didn’t bring this up because – god, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Aredhel jammed the tip of her skate into the ice furiously. “I’m trying to work on getting better, okay? I’m finally going to that shrink whose name you gave me – ”

“I thought you’d been seeing her since this summer!”

“I lied.”

“But – ”

“I lied, asshole, I lied, because I am not doing okay, got it? You know hot mess me, the me who came into your room drunk and crying and freaking the fuck out? That’s me most of the time, even though usually I’ve got enough of a handle on it that I don’t look like that. You know me being self-destructive with you, and going too hard, and being all fucking insecure about Elenwë and me, and having nightmares and losing my temper and being an asshole when I get scared – none of that is just separate from my drinking. All of it is tangled up together, and I can't keep pretending I have it under control. That doesn’t mean that’s what’s going on for you when you drink, or for anyone, but it is for me, and that’s what I’ve been realizing with Nienna, and at the meetings, and everything. And if you’re going to be a thickheaded asshole about it, then forget this.” Aredhel turned and started to move away, bending down to fumble the laces of her own skates, but Celegorm jumped up.

“Hey, wait! Irissë, I’m sorry, I’m being an idiot, like usual. Hang on, don’t go, gimme a chance to be less of a dick. Please.” Celegorm took Aredhel’s mittened hand carefully, and when she didn’t pull away, he stepped closer, emboldened. “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly. “I was acting like a fuckin’ meathead. Let’s get changed and go home, and make some hot…cocoa, and talk. You can fill me in, and I’ll do a better job of listening, promise.”

“I don’t know if I want to talk more right now.” Aredhel looked down at the ice, but left her hand in Celegorm’s.

“That’s cool.”

“I just need you to not give me shit, all right?”

“I won’t. Like, on least asshole behavior, if possible.”

“If you promise.”

“I promise. To try, anyway.” Celegorm crossed his heart and glanced towards the road, looking thoughtful. “Also, now I think on it, let’s not go back to the house. My brothers are hanging decorations and it’s a shitshow. I’m supposed to go to Oromë’s tonight anyway, come over and we’ll make hot drinks there.”

“Won’t he mind?”

“Naw, he won’t be back from the mountains ‘til dinner time. And he doesn’t even keep booze in the house, so that makes that easy.” Celegorm grinned awkwardly. “Outta sight, outta mind, right?”

“Yeah, right.” But Aredhel smiled faintly, and moved closer just as Celegorm’s phone rang.

“Ahh, hold on. Stupid gloves. Uh. Hang tight, Ireth, I better get this.”

* * *

3.

Maglor stretched out on the floor and groaned. There were strands of lights and battered Christmas tree decorations strewn across the floor, and Maglor’s keyboard was unplugged in the corner, punishment for one too many renditions of ‘Carol of the Bells but with, like, a subversive twist.’ A fire had been coaxed out of the drafty old fireplace, and Huan was snoring in front of it while Maglor languished by the couch. “Please can we plug them in yet?”

“Not yet.” Curufin was fiddling with the LED board, his tongue between his teeth. “There are a couple more adjustments to make…”

“This was such a mistake,” said Maglor to the ceiling. “When I agreed to do decorations with you, I thought we’d just be putting those net lights on the bushes out front and setting up the smokermen in the windows. Hanging some greens. But nooo, Christmas decorations with Curufinwë means – ”

“Dedication,” said Curufin, pulling out a screwdriver.

“ – means getting them out AGES later than I wanted, because someone wants to set up a light panel with remote controls and a timer that syncs to the sound levels in the house, and – ”

“And that syncs to go on half an hour before sunset each day, and that I’m getting partial credit for in my EE 114 class. Shut up and go make more molasses cookies if you’re so antsy.”