第 118 页

“Yeah, I know that feeling.” Caranthir fell silent for a moment. “Are they still fighting? Mom and dad.”

“Dad’s sleeping in their room again sometimes, if that’s what you mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence a while, the aging boards of the tree house creaking amiably above them, and Amras shivered in a sudden breeze. He tucked his hands into his armpits, and Caranthir yawned. “I think I’m gonna grab a snack or something, I’m starving. We’ve been living on half rations because the grocery budget is going towards – Well, it’s a long story, I’ll tell you when I get back. You’re gonna love it, Curvo’s the worst. But half the reason I came over here was to steal food.”

“Not to see me?” Amras gave a mock pout, though the joke didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You’re the other half of the reason, stupid. But I’m gonna grab some stuff to eat if we’re gonna be out here for a while.” Amras shivered again as Caranthir got to his feet. “Where’s your sweatshirt? I’ll grab it while I’m in there.”

“In my room.”

“I’ll be back with snacks in a sec. Oh, and tell Telvo to stop sitting there looking like Huan when he’s locked out of Tyelko’s room. He should come hang out with us.” Caranthir walked off before Amras could respond, and vanished back into the house, kicking sociably at Amrod as he passed.

Amras sighed, and gazed up at the tree house above his head. The breeze swung a willow bough across his cheek, and he brushed at it impatiently before uncrossing his arms and looking across the yard at his twin. “Moryo says you look like an emo dog,” he called, and Amrod raised his head. “So knock it off and come over here and help me figure out how to get the frisbee back from the neighbors. I think we might be able to see where it went if we go up into the tree house.”

* * *

Someone tapped on the doorframe to the twins’ room, and Fëanor and Nerdanel looked up to see Curufin hovering awkwardly in the doorway. “Ah. Telvo said you were up here. Should I just wait for you in your study?”

Nerdanel got to her feet. “No, that’s fine. He’s all yours, Atarinkë.” She smiled and Curufin gave an uncertain smile back. “I’ve been putting off studio work all morning, despite Irmo’s incessant emails about my progress, so I should get to it. Wish me luck.” As she crossed the room, she kissed her fingers and laid them lightly to Curufin’s cheek.

“Good luck,” said Curufin softly.

Nerdanel left, and Fëanor got to his feet too, moving a little stiffly. “ I am sorry to have kept you waiting, I know you have class later today. Let’s get to the study, shall we?”

Curufin still looked awkward. “Is this not a good time? I can wait.”

“It is always a fine time to talk to you, Curufinwë. Come on, I have some articles to pass along to you as well.”

Once in the study, Fëanor sat himself in his desk chair with a sigh; Curufin perched on the edge of the couch, but Fëanor shook his head. “No, let me draw you up a chair, no need to sit so far away.”

Curufin resettled himself on a chair by Fëanor’s desk, and Fëanor smiled at him. “You said in your email you had ‘logistical matters’ to discuss. Well? Lay it on me.”

“Yes. Well.” Curufin hesitated a moment, and then plunged on. “I am sorry to report that I have discovered mold in our house.”

Fëanor’s brows drew together. “Mold?”

“Yes.”

“Is it bad? Have any of you gotten sick?”

“No, we – I – caught it only by accident. It’s in the walls and ceiling, at least of the spare room, and it seems it is more widespread as well. I suspect some of the heavy rains of past years have caused leaks in the attic, and the moisture has allowed mold to grow.”

Fëanor was still frowning. “How did you learn about the spare room? And what do you mean ‘it seems’ to be more widespread?”

Curufin sighed. “Well…”

Fëanor listened as Curufin launched into the explanation, his eyebrows raising higher and higher, periodically interjecting a question.

“Interesting decision-making. Was the rewiring entirely necessary for improving the WiFi efficacy?”

“By my estimates, yes, it was.”

“Was the amount of improvement worth the trouble?”

“That... has apparently been an arguable point.”

Fëanor listened on, a finger to his lips, breaking in again as Curufin got to the moment at which Celegorm fell through the ceiling.

“Is Tyelkormo all right? Uninjured?”

“Yes, I made sure. He’s shockingly durable, you know.”

Fëanor lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “I do. Go on.”

Curufin finally got to the end of the saga, and Fëanor looked at him. “So the four of you funded these repairs on your own.”

“Well, we tried.” Curufin straightened up on his chair and folded his hands. “But that is why I’m here, or, one of the reasons. Unfortunately none of us currently have extensive funds, and it looks like the contractor is running over the estimate – ”

“They always do,” muttered Fëanor.

“ – so in order to get the mold mitigation properly wrapped up, we could use some financial assistance.” Curufin clasped his hands between his knees. “I’m really sorry to have to come to you with this,” he said in a rush. “And I’m sorry that I inadvertently put Tyelko through the ceiling, and that I didn’t tell you about it. I had hoped that I could deal with it on my own, I know you have more important things to deal with.”

“There’s nothing more important than making sure my sons have a safe roof over their heads.” Fëanor looked like he was holding back a laugh. “Or under their feet, as the case may be.”

Curufin smiled, embarrassed.

“You truly thought it was a good idea to send your heaviest brother into the attic?”

“Well,” mumbled Curufin, “he’s the only one who would do it without too many questions. I had a vision.”

Fëanor laughed. “God, Curvo, if only you had been old enough to work with me at the company. We could have moved mountains. Though admittedly,” he added, as Curufin flushed with pleasure, “those mountains may have inadvertently fallen through people’s roofs, depending on your ability to give direction.”

“My directions were impeccable,” said Curufin indignantly. “Tyelko is just terrible at listening.”

“Now there is an inescapable truth.” Fëanor shook his head. “Of course I will pay for the remainder of the repairs, and if you tell me how much you have already spent, I will reimburse you four for what you are out.”

“There’s no need, really – ”

“Don’t listen to him,” said Caranthir, appearing from nowhere with a sweatshirt dangling from his hand and sticking his head into the study. “Think how much better our return as your living investments will be if our money isn’t spent on mold removal in our 20s. Also Makalaurë’s been living on day old muffins for a week and could use his money back if he’s ever gonna poop normally again. ‘Sup, dad.” He vanished again, and Curufin glowered after him.

“It’s no problem, Curvo,” said Fëanor good-humoredly. “I own the house you live in, I can invest in its upkeep. Keep your money and in the future, just tell me earlier when something needs fixed.”

“I shall endeavor to do so.”

“But thank you for coming clean, I know the prospect of owning up to something can be daunting.” Fëanor took out his checkbook and began to write. “I’ll leave the amount blank and trust you to fill it in accurately to reimburse you four.” He tore off the check and handed it to Curufin. “Let me look up some contractor quotes I got in the past while we’re at it, I wouldn’t put it past this one to try and slip something past you, knowing you’re young and inexperienced.”

Curufin tucked the check into his pocket. “As if Moryo wasn’t poring over every bill like it was the Voynich manuscript.”

“Still, it can’t hurt to have some alternate names and figures on hand. Let’s see...” Fëanor slid open his filing cabinet and began to rummage through it, flipping through files labeled ‘House’ and ‘Maintenance.’

Curufin watched him, and took a deep breath. “While we’re on the subject of confessing things, on a more personal note there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He waited, but Fëanor was still engrossed in the file folder. “Father, I’ve been – ”

Fëanor pulled out a sheet of paper and examined it. “You’re involved with Arafinwë’s oldest boy.”

Curufin froze.

But Fëanor was speaking as casually as if they were discussing something he’d read in the paper that morning. “I was wondering when you were going to tell me, but then I thought maybe it hadn’t lasted. I take it that is not the case?”

It took Curufin a while to find his voice, but Fëanor seemed unconcerned, laying a couple sheets of paper on the desk as he waited. At last Curufin managed, “You knew?”

Fëanor slid one folder back into place. “I saw you with him outside the hospital after Pityo’s accident.”

There were two spots of red burning in Curufin’s cheeks. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Should I have?”

Curufin swallowed. “Are you upset?”

Fëanor sighed and sat back in his chair. “I don’t know, Curvo, should I be?” He brushed a hand over his forehead, looking weary. “My getting upset seems to avail me nothing, these days. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in recent years it is that trying to understand, or worse, trying to get involved with my sons’ love lives is a fool’s errand. Am I upset that you didn’t tell me sooner? Well, I wish you had considered it worth my notice, but your life is your own business, and you had your reasons, I am sure. I thought perhaps like me, you thought it wouldn’t last, or that you were embarrassed, but who am I to speculate?”

Curufin cleared his throat with an effort. “But are you upset that I am with him at all?”

Fëanor shrugged. “No, I am not upset. It is what it is.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “I may not comprehend the apparently irresistible magnetism of my stepbrothers’ children, or understand the decision making process some of you employ when choosing a lover, but I know when I’ve been beat. I will not try and dissuade you from your choice. ”

Curufin tightened his fingers and fixed his eyes on the carpet. “So you’re saying you don’t think I should be with him.”

“That is your own interpretation. I have said nothing of the sort, Curufinwë.” Fëanor stopped drumming his fingers and leaned forward to lay a hand on Curufin’s shoulder. “I am simply saying I am choosing my battles more carefully these days.” He patted Curufin’s shoulder, then slid his cabinet drawer closed. “I trust you. If you are happy, then who am I to argue? A simplistic philosophy, to be sure, but one your mother has been promoting for a while now. She is far wiser than I on certain things, and perhaps I should finally yield to her wisdom on this point.”

Curufin was still staring at the floor, at his father’s highly polished shoes. “I... am happy.”

“Then that shall have to be good enough for us both.” Fëanor waited for Curufin to say something else, and when he didn’t, he patted his shoulder again. “Was there more you wanted to discuss, or can we move on to that Economist piece I sent you last week?”

“No, there’s nothing more.” Curufin shook his head and straightened up, meeting his father’s gaze. “Let’s move on. Do you honestly think the yuan is going to hold at current rates? Because if so, I have some property to sell you in Tianchang.”

Forever's half as long

Chapter Summary

Hanky-panky, work woes, and the importance of locks.

Chapter Notes

0. Make outs in scene 1; sex in scene 2. I’m making up for chapter 76’s lack of shippiness by throwing ALL THE SHIPPINESS in here.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Curufin looked around the tiny office; the towering file cabinets, the piles of papers. He opened his mouth.

“I know,” said Finrod.

Curufin pointed at a mostly dead plant.

“Yes, I know.”

Curufin pointed at the schedule that depicted office hours for the four different TAs who shared the space.

“I know,” said Finrod.

Curufin folded his arms. “Are you doing penance for something?”

“This is academia, darling,” said Finrod, leaning his hip against the edge of his desk and crossing his arms as well. “One takes what one can get.”

“Don’t call me darling, it’s condescending.”

“You needed to be condescended to.” Finrod smiled. “I like my office just fine, and I even neatened it up for you. Look, nothing on the floor.” He gestured, and Curufin eyed the carpet.

“Goodness, how…gracious.”

“It’s quite serviceable for my needs, and with any luck I won’t be in it more than another year, god willing. I know it’s small and crowded, but it suits me fine.” Finrod got up from the desk and crossed the room. “And besides, it has a door with a latch and everything.”

“So wha- ” Curufin was cut off as Finrod cupped his face in his hands and kissed him. “You are very,” said Curufin, when he could speak again, “predictable.”

“And yet somehow you still always manage to look surprised when I kiss you.” Finrod was still cradling Curufin’s face, and he touched his thumb lightly to Curufin’s lips. “It is both charming and disconcerting.”

“You are both charming and disconcerting.”

“Thank you.” Finrod kissed him again, and this time Curufin wrapped his hands around Finrod’s wrists and kissed him back.

Finrod made a pleased noise as Curufin dragged him back towards the wall, narrowly dodging the crooked bookshelf. “Is this okay?” he murmured against Curufin’s lips.

“Yes.” Curufin ducked away and pressed his mouth beneath Finrod’s ear, mouthing lightly at his neck. “Are we indulging you?” he whispered, closing his eyes as Finrod dropped his hands to Curufin’s waist and slid his fingers under the hem of his shirt. “Are we indulging your apparently unquenchable desire to do risqué acts in semi-public places?”

“Semi-public? This is a private office,” said Finrod, tugging the collar of Curufin’s shirt down so he could press a kiss to Curufin’s collarbone.

“And what if someone comes looking for your office hours?”

“The door latches.”

“But it is not, currently, latched.”

“Hmm, is it not?”

Curufin dragged a sharp hand through Finrod’s hair, half smiling to see him disheveled. “You are as transparent as glass, Ingoldo.”

Finrod laughed, then drew back and looked at him, his expression fading into seriousness. “We do not have to do this here,” he said, taking Curufin’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “I will always enjoy kissing you, but we can save it until we are somewhere more secure.”

Curufin worried his lower lip between his teeth meditatively. “I don’t know, perhaps I am feeling a bit…reckless.”

Finrod’s eyes brightened. “Oh?” he asked, his voice warm.

“The door is closed,” said Curufin, and he looked at Finrod through lowered eyelashes, a slight smile curling his lips. “That is good enough.”

Finrod laughed again, joyful now, and pulled Curufin across the room by the hand. He pushed the chair out of the way and settled Curufin against the desk, his arms braced on either side of Curufin’s waist. He lowered his head and kissed Curufin’s left shoulder very deliberately, then did the same to the right shoulder.