第 22 页

“Ingoldo,” said Caranthir, a little hoarsely. “You need to stop talking like that.”

“Why? You wanted to know why I slept with you…”

“Because I’m going to drive off the road if you keep it up.”

Finrod tilted his head to the side, musingly. “I think you should pull over.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to go down on you.”

Caranthir swore. “Goddammit, Findaráto.”

Finrod looked at him, smiling faintly. “You need further proof that I find you desirable? I’m serious. Pull over.” He reached across and laid a hand on Caranthir’s thigh. “…or I could start now.”

Caranthir jerked the wheel sharply as Finrod’s hand slid into his lap and palmed him lightly through his jeans. “You’re going to fucking make me crash.”

“Which is why you should pull over.” Finrod sounded amused. “Hmm…you’re hard already.”

“You really – ” Caranthir gritted his teeth, and looked over his shoulder as he swerved into the right lane, looking for a place to pull over. “ – need to stop talking like that.”

“I don’t know,” said Finrod. “I kind of like the effect it has on you.”

Caranthir pulled over and yanked on the parking brake with a certain amount of force. Finrod hummed, pleased, and began to undo Caranthir’s jeans.

“Anyone could see us,” said Caranthir, in a low voice.

“It’s pouring rain,” Finrod pointed out. “It’s not a very busy road. And if they do see,” he smiled, and his eyes shone, “well, that’s kind of hot, isn’t it?”

“Fuck,” said Caranthir, as Finrod’s hand closed around him. “I didn’t know – I had no idea you were like this.”

“Mmm.”

“Do you get off on this kind of thing?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” asked Finrod, as he slid across the seat to lean against Caranthir’s side, and watched with half-lidded eyes as his fingers wrapped around Caranthir’s cock.

“No.” Caranthir gasped and dug his fingers into Finrod’s leg.

“Well, let me be the first.” Finrod caught Caranthir’s jaw with his other hand and pulled him into a kiss. “And let this be an illustration of how entirely desirable I find you.”

“I…I’m convinced,” Caranthir managed, and his head dropped back against the seat as Finrod bent down to take him into his mouth.

If you’re feeling like I feel then run

Chapter Summary

It has been noted that the walls are rather thin at 1495 Mithrim Lake Road.

Chapter Notes

0. Warnings for: Hook-ups/cheating, masturbation, sexual self-disgust. Also for an absurdly long chapter (by my standards).

1. My kingdom to Silje for what was essentially a beta, but also for being my fucking muse. And petting my hair and making soothing noises when I was flailing.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Ouch!”

Caranthir winced as Finrod, fumbling busily for his belt, overbalanced and pulled them both against the wall.

“Sorry,” murmured Finrod, and dragged Caranthir’s belt free.

“Careful.” Caranthir shot a look at the door as he braced his arms against the wall on either side of Finrod’s shoulders. “These walls don’t seal sound worth a damn.”

“Mm,” said Finrod, and pushed Caranthir over to the bed. “Seems like a design flaw in a house of five brothers.”

“Four, now,” said Caranthir, falling back on the bed, distracted as Finrod straddled his hips. It was odd to think that Maedhros was no longer just upstairs; their oldest brother had been there so long that Caranthir still sometimes thought of it as ‘Nelyo’s place’ before he thought of it as his own.

“That’s right,” said Finrod, and kissed him. “So there is no one in the room above us, at least.”

And how surprised would Nelyo be that there was anything at all to hear from my room? Caranthir brought his hands to Finrod’s waist, sliding Finrod’s shirt up so he could get at the hot, smooth skin beneath. Finrod gave a murmur of pleasure, and Caranthir shushed him.

“Why do we do this at my house?” he whispered, as Finrod bent low over him, nuzzling against his neck. “My brothers are all over the damn place.”

“Unfortunately,” said Finrod, shifting his hips and aligning them so that Caranthir groaned, “I don’t have a place of my own either. And I live with a little sister who can all but see through walls.”

Caranthir thought briefly of Galadriel and shuddered. “Okay, point.”

“Besides, didn’t you say only Tyelko is home? And he already knows…”

“Yeah, but the rest of them could show up at any minute.”

“Better hurry up then,” said Finrod, very seriously, and tugged Caranthir into another kiss.

“Just…just ‘cuz I’m interested,” said Caranthir presently, as Finrod ground down against him. “Does Amarië know about…this? Is this a thing you agreed on? Does she fuck other people too?”

Finrod sighed, managing to look elegantly put out even while half naked and disheveled. “That’s not very good dirty talk,” he said reproachfully, as he lifted one of Caranthir’s hands and kissed the inside of his wrist, his tongue flicking out against Caranthir’s skin.

“I just want to know,” said Caranthir, determined to hold his concentration, even as pleasure sparked sharply through him, “if you’re cheating on her with me.”

The was a pause, and then Finrod said, “She doesn’t know.”

Caranthir let his hand trace the lines of Finrod’s chest. “So that ‘understanding’ thing you mentioned was total bullshit. I thought it sounded like kind of a crock.”

“Does that change anything for you?” asked Finrod, looking down at him.

Caranthir thought. “No,” he said, finally. “I mean, it establishes that you’re kind of an asshole, but I guess I don’t care.” And just now, he really didn’t. Maybe not-so-perfect Finrod was a better match for him than he’d thought. “This is just sex. Right?”

“Right,” said Finrod, and fastened his mouth to Caranthir’s throat.

“Right,” said Caranthir again, breathlessly, and then pushed Finrod back. “No. Wait.”

Finrod took a deep breath, but sat back on his heels and waited.

“I don’t get it,” said Caranthir. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

For the first time, Finrod looked frustrated. “Haven’t we talked about this? Look, why are you?”

“Because of her,” said Caranthir, without thinking, and let go of Finrod. “Ah, fuck.” He knew he was saying the wrong things, as always, saw how Finrod’s face had closed off a little at his words, but he couldn’t help himself. He hadn't meant to think of Haleth, but all of a sudden she was as present in his mind as if she'd been standing in the room with him. He closed his eyes against the sudden surge of bitterness in his throat. “It isn’t fair.”

“What’s not fair?” asked Finrod quietly. He slipped off Caranthir and knelt beside him on the bed.

“The fact that this – you – ” Caranthir gestured abstractedly, “It was so easy, and – ”

“I’m easy, am I?” Finrod raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. I mean – Augh.” He was saying the wrong things again. Caranthir covered his eyes. “See, this is what usually happens when I actually try to talk.”

“It’s okay,” said Finrod. “I was pretty easy, I suppose. Nothing you’ve said has been wrong. I’m probably an asshole, too.” He stretched out at Caranthir’s side, not quite touching him. “So what’s not fair?”

“It’s just,” Caranthir rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I tried so hard with her. I tried for two years. And not only is the girl I fall for not interested in me, but she ends up with my aunt. I mean, what the fuck? How is that fair? Two years I spent telling myself it might happen, it might work out, just hold on…What a fucking idiot I am. And it’s not just, like, relationships. I haven’t had any – There haven’t been any – ” He broke off, flushing, and Finrod hummed in comprehension.

“You haven’t been with anyone.”

Caranthir nodded, gritting his teeth against the feeling of embarrassment never far beneath the surface. “I haven’t done anything since high school.” He rolled over so he could bury his face in his hands. “Then, as soon as I fucking give up and stop trying – you just want to sleep with me?” He raised bewildered eyes to Finrod’s face. “I mean, what? What am I supposed to take away from that? When I try, I get fucked over, but when I give up and don’t try, I get…”

“Fucked?” suggested Finrod, then looked apologetic. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

“And then there’s you,” Caranthir went on, twisting his fingers into the sheets, “you have everything I want, you’ve got a great relationship and this beautiful girlfriend, and you’re willing to fuck around on her with someone like me? I mean, what the hell is up with that?”

“You really know how to sweet talk the guy you’re in bed with,” said Finrod, and sighed.

Caranthir dug his fingers into the mattress, frustrated. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I told you I’m shit at this.”

“Stop,” said Finrod, “it’s okay. Look, I’m…hardly one to give relationship advice. Clearly.” He gestured ruefully at his half-clothed body and the tangled sheets. “So I’m not going to tell you it’s all going to be fine, that you’ll find the perfect girl and it will all work out if it’s meant to be. I don’t think I could say it with a straight face, anyway. But for what it’s worth, I like that you’re shit at this. I like that you don’t mince words, even if it means you’re – well, an asshole at times. It’s refreshing. And kind of charming.”

Caranthir looked at him skeptically. No one had ever accused him of being charming before. Finrod smiled at him, as if he could tell what he was thinking. “I’m serious. And Carnistir,” he reached out and ran his fingers along Caranthir’s jaw, “I really am sorry about Haleth. It’s a terrible thing to have your heart broken. I can’t give you what you wanted with her, but I can give you distraction, if you want it.”

“Yeah,” said Caranthir at last, “distraction. That works.”

It wasn’t all he wanted, it wasn’t all he needed, but right now, it was what he could get. And he’d take it.

“So tell me,” said Finrod, smiling and shifting closer so their bodies pressed together. Without thinking, Caranthir ran a hand from Finrod's ribcage to his waist, sliding his fingers over the jut of his hip-bone. “How best can I distract you?”

Caranthir knew that this was Finrod moving on from the question of Amarië, saw how easily he had skirted it, but decided he no longer cared.

Distraction, he thought. I wonder why he needs distraction?

And then, I wonder how distracted I can make him.

So he set out to see.

-

It was an interesting and deeply satisfying experiment, and Caranthir soon had Finrod panting against him, pressing hot into his hand.

“Oh – Oh, Carnistir,” he was whispering. “Yes, yes, I’m – ”

Caranthir felt fierce satisfaction surge through him. There weren't many things he felt he excelled at, but it seemed he had a previously undiscovered talent...namely, making Finrod come twice in an afternoon. He shifted his grip slightly, and grinned, pleased with himself, when Finrod actually whimpered.

A knock came at the door and Caranthir immediately clapped a hand over Finrod’s mouth. “What?” he snapped.

Celegorm’s voice sounded amused. “Just thought I should give you a head’s up, bro, that Curvo and Káno are on their way back. So you might want to…uh, finish up and figure out a cover story if you’ve got a certain ‘friend’ in there with you.”

Caranthir kept his other hand wrapped around Finrod, stroking him lightly. Finrod squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on Caranthir’s finger. “Fine,” Caranthir called, wincing. “Now go away.”

He could hear Celegorm laughing as he stepped away. “I’m serious though.” His brother’s voice faded as he moved to the kitchen. “You’ve got like five minutes.”

Caranthir looked up. Finrod’s eyes were desperate and hungry. His lips shaped the word please against Caranthir’s hand. Desperate and begging is a good look for him, Caranthir thought, a little surprised at his dark delight, and answered Finrod’s plea.

-

Exactly three minutes later, Caranthir and Finrod emerged from Caranthir’s bedroom and joined Celegorm in the kitchen, where he gave them both broad grins as he put on the kettle to boil. Finrod straightened his shirt, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, and reached over to brush a wayward lock of hair out of Caranthir’s eyes. A minute later, Maglor and Curufin came in through the front door, rain sluicing from their jackets. Huan raced to greet them, and sneezed as he encountered the water shaken from their clothing.

“Pouring,” said Maglor peevishly. “Again.”

“It’s hurricane season,” said Curufin, hanging up his jacket and raking his fingers through his damp hair. Huan fled back to Celegorm’s side at the threatening look Curufin gave him. “What do you expect?”

“Seasonal decency,” said Maglor grumpily, pulling off his boots. “There’s an outdoor harvest festival I’m supposed to be performing at tomorrow, and this weather is hardly conducive…”

“This is why tents were invented,” Curufin pointed out, making his way into the kitchen and dodging as Celegorm reached out to ruffle his hair. “Surely the organizers of this festival thing have it in their ability to procure some sort of shelter for their musicians.”

“I wouldn't count on it,” said Maglor, and collapsed onto the sofa.

“Festival?” asked Finrod. He was leaning against the kitchen table and listening with interest.

Curufin looked up, surprised. “Findaráto.” He glanced around reflexively, looking for Maedhros. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you know that Nelyo is living with – ”

“Oh, yes,” said Finrod, and accepted the cup of tea Caranthir offered him. “I'm just here because I ran into Carnistir on campus.”

Curufin wrinkled his nose. “So?”

“So,” said Finrod, as Caranthir fumbled and nearly dropped his own cup of tea, “I offered to help him with the philosophy class he’s taking. It’s one I TA’ed for a couple years back, and I thought I might be able to offer some tips.”

By the sink, Celegorm opened his mouth, grinning, but Caranthir chose that moment to drop his teacup onto Celegorm’s foot.

“Whoops,” he said flatly, as Celegorm swore and leapt back. “My bad.” He leveled a dark look at Celegorm, and Celegorm made a face at him.

“I’ll get a towel,” was all he said, though, and headed down the hallway to the linen closet. Glowering, Caranthir followed him.

“What philosophy class is it?” asked Curufin, ignoring his brothers’ odd behavior and seating himself at the table.

“Existentialist metaphysics,” said Finrod promptly. “Why, are you interested in philosophy?”

Curufin scoffed. “Hardly. Thinking about how one thinks about thinking? How self-indulgent can you get?”

Finrod smiled. “Philosophy is a rather masturbatory pursuit,” he acknowledged. “Perhaps that’s why I enjoy it so much.” He laughed at the look on Curufin’s face. “I’m mostly joking. I think there’s something significant to be said for examining how systems of thought come about, and for understanding how human existence exhibits – or resists – meaning. If we don’t ask the why, then what is the point of being?”