第 26 页

“Good job,” murmured Finrod. “That’s what one does with phones, you know.” He snuggled against Caranthir’s side, tucking his face into the crook of Caranthir’s neck. “What – ”

“It was your phone. I answered your phone by accident.”

“Oh?”

“And it was Amarië.”

“Oh.” Finrod pulled back. “Hum.”

“What is she going to think? What are you going to say to her?”

Finrod rolled onto his back and rubbed at his eyes as he thought. Finally, he said, “I’ll tell her the truth.”

“What?”

“That I spent the night at your place after getting too drunk to go back to my own; that my phone rang while I was still asleep, and you answered it. That is what happened.”

“If you leave out the whole…naked in bed together thing.”

“I don’t see why that needs to be part of it.”

“Um. Okay.” Caranthir pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing as the room swam before his eyes. “But look, you should get out of here anyway.”

“Should I?” Finrod raised his eyebrows, and Caranthir felt annoyed that Finrod could manage such an eloquent gesture while morbidly hung-over. He also managed to look incredibly tempting, even with rumpled hair and shadows under his eyes, the sheets slipping down over his bare chest…

Caranthir blinked rapidly and said, “Yes. Makalaurë set you up on the couch last night. He’s going to wonder where you’ve gone.”

Finrod stretched and sighed. “I can just say I got up to go to the bathroom and was so drunk that when I came back I ended up passing out in your bed instead,” he said. “It’s not even a lie. We can just leave out the part where, after finding my way into your room, I stripped off all my clothes and you took me from behind while I clung to the headboard.”

“Argh,” said Caranthir, and dropped back on the pillows. “Why do you always have to say things like that?”

“Like what?” asked Finrod, all innocence.

“You know.” Caranthir rolled over and grabbed Finrod impatiently. “You know exactly what it does to me,” he said, and kissed Finrod, hard.

“Yes, true,” murmured Finrod, dragging his fingers against Caranthir’s scalp. “I really appreciate your consistency, though.”

“Shut up,” said Caranthir, and Finrod laughed as he widened his legs and urged Caranthir between them.

-

Celegorm sloped through the front door and into the kitchen, a Beleriand U. Rugby hat pulled low over his eyes.

“Is there coffee?” he mumbled, falling into a chair.

“Where were you?” asked Maedhros with interest, looking up from the counter, where he was cutting bagels.

“I had Káno drop me at Oromë’s last night,” said Celegorm, slouching low in his chair and groaning a little. “And to rights I should be spending the day in his bed, but he’s got team shit all day and then he’s on the road all week…”

“Oh, was that his car on the street?” asked Maglor, pulling out a package of lox. “I wondered why it was idling there for so long.”

“Well, I had to say goodbye, didn’t I?” said Celegorm, grinning a little even as he massaged his temples. “Anyway, we have a long history of making out in cars.”

“It truly amazes me you never got caught,” said Maedhros, dropping a bagel onto a plate and handing it to Celegorm.

“Me too,” said Celegorm. “We had a lot of public sex.” He bit into the bagel, and then frowned. “Wait.”

“Here it comes,” said Maglor.

“Took him long enough,” said Maedhros.

“Nelyo?”

“Good morning to you too, little brother.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Last night reminded me how much I miss weekend mornings with you all,” said Maedhros, smiling.

“I have no idea why,” said Maglor, eating lox ruminatively. “Weekend mornings just mean Tyelko’s hung-over, Moryo sleeps until late afternoon, and Curvo makes biting remarks about moderation.”

“I came for you then,” said Maedhros, reaching out to tweak Maglor’s ear. “And I brought coffee and bagels, because I love you.”

“I love you too, Nelyo,” said Celegorm, his mouth full. “But I hate your friends. Your buddy Azaghâl and that hot cousin of his nearly destroyed me. Why are the doors to the living room closed?”

“Oh, right,” said Maglor. “Findaráto’s asleep in there. I offered him Maitimo’s bed, but he said it would be safer for him not to attempt the stairs and he’d use the couch instead. He was pretty tipsy, so I didn’t press the point.”

“Stairs,” said Celegorm, through a mouthful of bagel. “Solid. He’s a clever one, that Findaráto.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Celegorm, and took a long slurp of coffee. “So, no sign of life from Moryo either?”

“Well, I heard some noises earlier,” said Maglor, “but he doesn’t seem to have emerged yet.”

“I bet not,” said Celegorm, and sniggered to himself.

“What is up with you?” demanded Maglor. “You’re acting strange.”

“I’m probably still drunk,” said Celegorm, finishing his bagel. “Don’t mind me.”

-

Voices from downstairs floated up to Curufin’s room, along with the smells of food and hot coffee. Curufin’s stomach gave a growl, but Curufin scowled and pulled his knees against his chest to stifle it, pressing himself back into the corner where his bed met the wall. He knew a good part of his foul mood was from lack of sleep, but the rest of it –

It had been a bad night.

He’d still been outside, gripping the railing of the stairs fiercely and trying to calm himself down, when Maglor had emerged from the apartment, their brothers in tow. His relief that they could finally leave had been immediately extinguished when he heard Maglor call over his shoulder, “Do you need a ride, Findaráto?”

Of course Celegorm, loud and drunk and barely coherent, had called shotgun. It had been hell sitting in the backseat, trying to hold himself as far from Caranthir as possible. It had been worse still, even though he’d glued his eyes to the window, refusing to look, to know that Finrod was drowsing off against Caranthir’s side, his head on his shoulder. The innocence of the gesture, in such contrast to what Curufin had seen earlier, somehow stung just as sharply.

And then Finrod had come into the house with them, stumbling a little and laughing as he grabbed Caranthir’s arm for support. Celegorm having insisted on being dropped off at Oromë’s house, Maglor and Curufin headed upstairs alone, while Finrod curled up on the couch under a blanket. Not much long after, Curufin had heard Finrod’s footsteps crossing the living room to Caranthir’s door…and the sounds that had followed had kept him awake as much as the roaring disappointment in his ears.

He’d always had sensitive hearing, and he’d never hated it more than now. He had caught every sound from below, could make out the moans, and Finrod’s low voice begging for more, harder, deeper – and his body, his treacherous body, now the enemy, had responded. When had it become such a traitor to him? He’d fisted his hands in the sheets, refusing to yield to the temptation to touch himself, clenching his teeth until his jaw ached, staring at the ceiling until his eyes burned, hating the ache in his groin, hating everything that was happening a floor beneath him.

And in the long, dark, sleepless hours, he had carefully nursed his bitter disappointment and frustration into an acid, churning fury.

Just what did Caranthir think he was doing?

Lying, sneaking around, rutting like an animal in near public places…

Why would someone like Finrod want someone like him?

It had been one thing to think of Finrod as unattainable, as taken; boundaries he could respect and understand. But apparently those boundaries didn’t mean as much as he thought to Finrod, and that meant that he was attainable, after all…

…for Curufin’s brother.

Confused and angry, he lay awake until dawn. Even when he heard the front door open, and Maedhros’ greeting, and Maglor’s delighted exclamation, he had refused to go downstairs.

I don’t want to see him. I don’t think I could stand it.

And he wasn’t sure if he meant Finrod or Caranthir.

-

Finrod examined himself in the mirror on the back of Caranthir’s door and sighed. “So much for subtlety,” he said, running his fingers over the marks on his throat.

“Sorry,” said Caranthir, pulling on a pair of jeans. “I got, um, carried away.”

“Well, usually you wouldn’t find me complaining,” murmured Finrod, turning away from the mirror and grabbing his shirt from the floor. “But in this case it leaves rather a telling clue. Hm. I suppose today would be a good day for a scarf.”

“You own a scarf?” Caranthir came up behind Finrod before he could pull his shirt on and slid his hands over Finrod’s bare waist a final time. “How preppy can you get?”

Finrod rolled his eyes, but leaned back against Caranthir’s chest as he pulled his shirt right-side out. “They do serve a purpose in cooler weather, I’ve found.”

“Whatever.” Caranthir pressed his face briefly into Finrod’s hair before releasing him. There was something intoxicating about how Finrod smelled…If he wasn’t careful, he’d get himself going again. “You probably shouldn’t stay for breakfast, unless you have a scarf on you now.”

“Such a gentleman,” said Finrod lightly, pulling his shirt over his head at last. “How lucky I am to have found someone who will bed me and then toss me unceremoniously out the door…”

“No,” said Caranthir, reaching out and catching Finrod’s wrist. “It’s not like that. I just meant – My brothers are so fucking nosy. And they notice everything. They’d definitely see, and they’d be the worst – ”

“I understand, Carnistir,” said Finrod, smiling at him. “I was joking.” He stretched up and kissed Caranthir lightly on the lips. “I appreciate that you’re trying to be discreet.”

“Yes,” said Caranthir, wishing for a second he could invent an excuse for Finrod to take off his shirt again, “That’s it.”

-

Finrod opened the double doors to the living room and slipped out, followed a short while later by Caranthir. He poked his head briefly into the kitchen.

“Oh! Maitimo, I didn’t expect to see you here. Wonderful party last night, thank you. Congratulations to you two, again. And Makalaurë, thank you so much for giving me a ride and letting me crash on your couch – I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” said Maglor. “Do you want some breakfast, or some coffee?”

“Wish I could,” said Finrod, smiling apologetically and withdrawing to the entryway before they could examine him too closely. “But I have so much work to do, you wouldn’t believe it. You’ll have to forgive me for not lingering.” He pulled on his shoes and opened the door, waving a last farewell.

-

Curufin took a deep breath and forced himself to open the door. Go downstairs, get breakfast, act normally.

He was at the top of the stairs when he saw Finrod, standing by the front door. The door was partially open, a sliver of late morning sun slanting onto the doormat and turning Finrod’s hair to blazing gold. He was in the middle of talking to someone just out of sight.

“ – oh no, that’s all right, I’d prefer to walk. Clear my head, you know.” He waved once, and turned to go. Before he did, he glanced back, up the stairs, and saw Curufin. He paused a moment, his bright blue eyes locking onto Curufin’s, and Curufin felt a sudden, dizzying swoop, like the floor had dropped out from under him. Then Finrod smiled briefly – a brilliant, beautiful smile – and left, closing the door behind him. The slant of golden light vanished; the entryway was dark once again.

Damn everything.

Curufin exhaled, slowly, and started down the stairs. He was intending to whisk into the kitchen as swiftly as possible, hopefully being just rude enough that Maedhros wouldn’t talk too much to him but not so obviously in a bad mood that anyone would ask questions, and then…

Caranthir was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. Curufin raised his eyebrows and made to step around his brother, but Caranthir jerked his head toward the back hall.

“You’re going to have to use your words, Morifinwë,” said Curufin impatiently. “I don’t respond to crude gesturing.”

“I need to talk to you,” said Caranthir, in a low voice. “About...the party. Will you just – I don’t want to be overheard.”

“Fine,” said Curufin, the bitter taste rising in his mouth again, and he followed Caranthir into the hall.

Once out of sight of the kitchen, Caranthir turned and said, without preamble, “So. Uh. You saw us last night.”

“ ‘Saw us’,” mused Curufin, eyes glittering. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Moryo.”

“You know what I mean,” said Caranthir, so quietly that his lips barely moved, his eyes darting down the hallway to the kitchen. “In…in the back room…”

Curufin tilted his head back. “Ah yes. I do think I remember that incident. If by ‘saw us’, you mean I happened upon you getting pleasured by our cousin in our brother’s bedroom, while a crowd of people milled about just feet from the unlocked door…?”

Caranthir flushed and glanced self-consciously over his shoulder. “Yes,” he said. “That. Are you going to tell anyone?”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” Curufin laughed humorlessly. “No apology for having me witness something like that? No flicker of shame, Moryo? No excuse for why you were so driven by carnal instinct you couldn’t wait to defile Findaráto until you had more privacy? No explanation for why you’re so blasé about fucking someone who’s in a relationship?”

Caranthir’s flush darkened, and he looked a little angry now. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry you walked in on us,” he said, clearly trying to keep his temper. “But I don’t see why I owe you anything else.”

“What about what you owe Amarië?” Curufin cocked an eyebrow. “She and Findaráto have been together quite a long time, I believe. In fact, if I understand correctly, they’d been discussing moving in together. What, did you not know that? Oh, but silly me: I imagine this an arrangement of theirs. An open relationship. Freely discussed and well communicated, is it not? I should congratulate her on the progressiveness of her relationship next time I see her – oh. Oh dear. I take it by the look on your face that that isn’t the case.”

“Curvo,” snarled Caranthir. “What the fuck are you trying to – ”

“I’m just trying to understand how it all works,” said Curufin, smiling a razor smile. “Does Findaráto switch between the two of you? If Amarië had turned up at the party last night, would I have walked in on the two of them, instead, while you languished on the couch, unattended? Though I suppose that’s the usual scenario for you…”

“Shut up, Curvo,” said Caranthir, his fists balling at his sides.

“…I imagine Findaráto finds you a rather easy mark,” Curufin went on, ruthlessly. “So desperate for attention, so ravenous for affection – He probably won you over easily. Have I expressed my sympathies to you about Haleth yet?”

Caranthir let out a growl and lunged at his younger brother, just as Celegorm turned down the hallway.

“Hey!” Celegorm darted forward and caught Caranthir around the waist, dragging him away from Curufin, who was laughing openly. “What the hell is this?”