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“It’s a Tuesday,” said Maedhros, but Celegorm shook a finger at him.

“What does the day matter? It’s a time of celebration!”

“What are we celebrating?” asked Caranthir.

“That our own baby Irissë is finally getting laid on the reg.” Celegorm wrapped an arm around Aredhel’s waist and hoisted her exuberantly against his hip.

She let her feet dangle, unperturbed, and tossed the avocados to Maedhros. “Yep.”

“My impression was always that she was getting regularly laid,” Caranthir said. “By you, Tyelko. I can’t believe that you’d celebrate losing such a consistently easy lay.”

He looked up as a heavy hand descended on the back of his neck. “You know how I’m supposed to tell you when you’re about to cross a line?” said Maedhros, mildly.

“Yeah?”

“Look behind you.”

Caranthir subsided, and Celegorm dropped Aredhel back to the ground. “Anyway, you little jackass, be nice or I won’t give you any tequila.” He pulled his tee-shirt out of the back of his shorts, where he’d tucked it during the run, and used it to mop his face and bare torso. This done, he dropped it absently into Curufin’s lap and wandered over to the fridge.

Curufin, with a look of deep disgust, picked the shirt up between his thumb and forefinger and let it fall on the ground.

Maedhros sighed. “Couldn’t people just put things away?” he said, without much hope. “Is that too much to ask?”

“Apparently,” said Aredhel. “I don’t know how you do it, Maitimo, I wouldn’t survive a week living in a house with all my siblings.” She snagged an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “And your siblings are much worse than mine.”

“Hey,” said Celegorm. “I resen – Curvo, what the actual fuck.”

“Nelyo said to put it away,” said Curufin, looking up from the trashcan where he’d just dropped Celegorm’s shirt. “So I did.”

“You little shit, that’s my favorite – ” Celegorm lunged for Curufin, who dodged neatly out of the way.

“Just close the refrigerator before you kill him, please,” called Maedhros, and put his head into his hands.

“Poor Russandol,” said Aredhel, patting him on the back. “Where’s my brother? Shouldn’t he be here rubbing your shoulders and making sympathetic noises at you?”

“If you’re talking about Findekáno…”

“Yes, obviously. The brother who’s currently still speaking to me. Anyway, I didn’t think you and Turno had that kind of relationship.”

“He’s still angry?" asked Maedhros quietly, as Celegorm pursued Curufin out of the room and Caranthir followed, making commentary.

“Well, yeah. His girlfriend kinda dumped him for me and now I’m spending five nights a week at her place having mind-blowing sex. It’s a tough burden for him to bear.” Despite herself, Aredhel couldn’t help but grin, and Maedhros shook his head, smiling.

“It doesn’t seem to be weighing on you overmuch.”

“Eh, I’ve never been that good at guilt.” She patted him on the shoulder again. “I leave that sort of thing to you. But seriously, where is Finno? I haven’t seen him in days. I just assumed he was over here, living in your bed as usual.”

“He’s been working pretty nonstop,” said Maedhros. “Ever since I resigned he’s had double the work. I feel bad about it, but…”

“…but you had to do the noble thing and resign your post after the scandal, blah blah,” said Aredhel. “If my brother works himself to death because of you, I shall have vengeance, Nelyo.”

Maedhros looked distressed. “I am sorry, I only – ”

“Jesus fuck, Maitimo, are your brothers inciting World War Three out there? Again?” Fingon slammed into the kitchen, looking harassed. “Fucking chaos.” He swung his bag down onto the table and his eyes lit up as he noticed Aredhel.

“Irissë! Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Hey, big brother,” she said, grinning as he pulled her into a one-armed hug.

“I assumed you were still immersed in your love nest.”

“Yeah, well, likewise, but Maitimo says you’ve just been working a lot.”

“It’s true.” Fingon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Turukáno would be shocked at my work ethic.” He glanced up, catching himself. “Whoops. Are we still at the ‘let’s pretend the other one doesn’t exist’ stage with you two?”

“I’m ready to talk whenever he is,” said Aredhel. “But right now, icy silence seems to be his preferred move, so I’m going with it.”

Fingon made a sympathetic face at her, then turned his attention to Maedhros. “Sorry it’s been so long, babe. I meant to come over last night, but – Oh fuck, you’re wearing your glasses? Help.” He draped himself over Maedhros’ lap and pulled him into a long kiss. “You know I can’t resist you in those.”

Maedhros smiled as Fingon took his face in his hands and scrutinized him. “I guess I should wear them more often, hm?”

“Definitely,” agreed Fingon, and kissed him again hungrily.

“I’m gonna go join World War Three,” said Aredhel hastily, as Maedhros wrapped a hand around Fingon’s hip and pulled him closer. “Give a shout when you’re…um, done.”

“Yes, sure, that,” said Fingon distractedly. “I want to talk to you about your girl thing, and also the our brother thing, and…stuff…” He lost focus as Maedhros nuzzled into his neck, and Aredhel fled.

“Any reason we shouldn’t do this in the kitchen?” Fingon asked, as Maedhros slid a hand up under his shirt. “Stupid question, I know.”

“All I wanted was to do my crossword and have a cup of coffee,” said Maedhros, lifting Fingon easily onto the table. “But my brothers seem determined to interrupt that, so I might as well move on to other activities.”

Fingon wrapped his legs around Maedhros’ waist as Maedhros made quick work of his belt. “And should we be concerned about being walked in on?”

Maedhros did a quick count in his head even as he tossed Fingon’s belt to the floor. “I think they’re all outside now…wait, everyone except – ”

“…the final movement should definitely be concerned with the providence of passion.” Maglor was back, waving his hands as he held the phone between shoulder and ear. “Passion and the…Oh, god.” He backed up so fast that he hit the doorframe and dropped his phone. “Oh no. Sorry. Ahh, seriously?” He retreated in haste, scrambling to retrieve his phone, and Maedhros could only laugh helplessly, resting his head on Fingon’s shoulder.

“Sorry about that, Makalaurë!” called Fingon, as Maedhros resumed disrobing him. “You were saying something about passion…?”

Chapter End Notes

0. See if you can spot the part based on something that happened to me today.

1. Unrelated: I feel like modern!Maedhros and Fingon (so relieved to be free of the expectations of canon) are terrible about PDA. At least, that’s my excuse for consistently writing them as unable to take their hands off each other.

Taste the smoke

Chapter Summary

Something something classic summer song about getting high with High Elves.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“You owe me,” said Caranthir, as Celegorm took a long hit and closed his eyes in pleasure.

“Ahh, shut up, little brother,” said Celegorm, lazily, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “The amount of booze I bought for you when you were underage…”

“We’re getting pretty damn close to even.”

“We’re family, dear child, what’s yours is mine. What’s mine is yours.”

“Does that apply to sexual partners?”

“Sicko,” said Celegorm. “Besides, like 90% of my former sexual partners are lesbians now.”

“Is Irissë 90% of your sexual partners? Because that makes a lot of sense.”

“Asshole,” said Celegorm, and kicked at his brother’s feet. “And you're so not one to talk. How many times have you asked that girl out? Seven? Eight? Fifteen? She’s gay, dude. She dates women.”

“She might be bi,” said Caranthir, flushing.

“She might be,” acknowledged Celegorm. “Point is, whatever you’re dangling, Haleth ain’t biting. Give up.”

“You sound just like Aunt Lalwen,” muttered Caranthir. “Pass the joint.”

“Joint? My goodness, children.”

Caranthir jumped, but Celegorm laughed. “What’s up, Finno?”

Fingon slung himself down on the grass beside them. “I am finally fucking done with my work week. How about you?”

“College student,” said Caranthir, snagging the joint from Celegorm.

“Unemployed,” said Celegorm, and snagged it back. “But we can totally feel sympathy for a drone like you.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Cheers,” said Fingon. “Pass it over.”

Celegorm grinned at him. “Sure thing. Just open your mouth, baby.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“C’mon,” said Celegorm. “What’s a shotgun between friends?”

Fingon rolled his eyes. “I must be desperate.” He leaned forward. Celegorm took a long drag of the joint.

Caranthir frowned. “You’re supposed to put the lit end in your – ”

“Shut up,” said Celegorm, without exhaling. He leaned forward and blew lightly between Fingon’s parted lips.

Fingon breathed in, closing his eyes. “Damn.” He shook his head at last and let out the smoke in a long breath. “It’s been a while.”

Celegorm winked. “I’m here whenever you need some, baby.”

“Gross,” said Caranthir absently.

“Seconded,” said Fingon.

“Hey, all I’m saying is – ”

“Oh look, it’s Nelyo,” said Caranthir. “Better stop your ‘hitting on his boyfriend’ shtick.”

“It’s not a shtick,” said Celegorm, looking hurt. “I genuinely want Findekáno for his body – heyy, Nelyo!”

Maedhros folded his arms and looked down on them. “Pot? Seriously?”

Celegorm smiled winningly. “At least we’re outside.”

“Tyelko’s hogging it all anyway,” said Caranthir. “I’m sober as a pope over here.”

“Judge,” said Fingon.

“What?”

“Judge. You’re as sober as – never mind.” He looked up at Maedhros and patted the ground next to him. “It’s been a long week, Maitimo. Sit down and join us.”

“Don’t bother,” said Celegorm, passing the joint to Caranthir at last. “He’s got too much of a stick up his butt to – ”

“Only when we ask,” said Caranthir, with uncharacteristic shrewdness. “He’ll do it for Findekáno.”

And sure enough, Maedhros was sighing and dropping down to the grass beside them as Fingon smiled.

“Happy Friday,” he said, and wound an arm around Maedhros’ waist.

Maedhros pressed a kiss to his temple and dropped a cell phone into his lap. “You left your phone. Irissë texted.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh, right,” said Celegorm, fumbling hastily for his own phone. “Shit, I was supposed to have texted her like 3 hours ago, whoops.”

“It’s cool,” said Fingon, unconcernedly, leaning his head against Maedhros’ shoulder. “She knows you’re reliably unreliable. Anyway, she’s on her way over.”

“Oh, good,” said Celegorm vaguely. “Want a hit, Nelyo?”

“He’ll never,” said Caranthir, but Celegorm laughed.

“You weren’t in high school with him and Makalaurë.”

Maedhros sighed and held out his hand. “I’ll partake if you promise to tell no stories of those days, Tyelko.”

“I promise,” said Celegorm, handing over the joint. “But Findekáno doesn’t.”

“Nope,” said Fingon. “And I’ve got all the good stories. And the ones you don’t know about, Tyelko. The one with the roof, and the one with the pole vault pit, and – ”

Caranthir watched, fascinated, as Maedhros took an expert hit from the joint and then leaned down to kiss Fingon, long and slow.

“There’s more where that came from,” he said after an impressively long interlude, pulling back as Fingon coughed and shook his head. “If you keep your mouth shut, Finno.”

“Yes, sir,” said Fingon, grinning dazedly. “Damn.”

“Ugh,” said Caranthir, and Celegorm checked his phone.

“Where is Irissë?”

“You rang?” Aredhel appeared behind them, Elenwë at her side.

“Hey, babe!” Celegorm looked up at them, smiling. “Good to see you.”

“Hold up,” said Aredhel, raising a hand and looking around. “I knew I smelled pot.”

“What, no greeting for me?” asked Celegorm, wounded.

“You get a greeting when you answer your texts within, like, four hours of receiving them,” said Aredhel. “Hand over the drugs, kid.”

“You’re like a K-9 unit, I swear to god. You can smell weed from a mile off.”

“Like it takes a bloodhound,” said Aredhel. “I could smell this from the end of the block. Pass it over.”

“Open your mouth.”

“I'm not about to fall for that trick.” She reached down and plucked the joint from his hand.

“No fair,” said Fingon. “He made me shotgun it.”

“He what?” said Maedhros, frowning.

“Yeah, well that’s because I find you sexually alluring, Finno,” said Celegorm, with a leer. “Anything to get you opening your mouth for me to blow into – Jesus, Maitimo, I was joking.” He dodged the fist Maedhros aimed at his head.

“Anyway,” said Aredhel, and took a long hit. “God, that’s good.”

“Your lady gonna try some?” asked Celegorm, scooting over to shelter behind Caranthir as Maedhros stared daggers at him.

Elenwë shook her head. “Someone’s gotta drive us home.”

“You can always stay,” said Maedhros, as Fingon tugged him back to lean against him. “The couch is always an option, you know that.”

“I was just making excuses,” said Elenwë. “I get really weird when I’m high.”

“Bring it on,” exclaimed Celegorm, but Elenwë shook her head, laughing.

“I’m going to take a hard pass.”

“It’s true,” said Aredhel, putting an arm around her. “She gets super paranoid and twitchy. Last time she passed out and dreamt that Zach Braff cracked her chest open and took out her lungs.”

“Ugh,” said Fingon. “Don’t plant those kind of images in my brain.”

“You think that’s horrifying,” said Caranthir, “this one time – ”

“Oh no,” said Elenwë suddenly, and shrank down, pulling Aredhel with her.

“What? I didn’t even get to the – ”

Aredhel’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.” She dropped down too, and the others peered down at them both.

“What the hell?”

But then Maedhros elbowed Fingon and gestured. “Look.”

Fingon craned around. “Oh. Hum. Okay, girls? Get ready to bolt.”

He jumped to his feet and beelined for the driveway, where two figures were walking up, engrossed in conversation. One was blond and slightly built, the other dark-haired and very tall.

“Hey, Turno! Long time no see!” As Fingon pulled his brother into an extravagant hug, Maedhros gestured meaningfully to Aredhel and Elenwë, who leapt up and took off around the other side of the house.

-

They came to a halt in the back garden, listening to the voices from the front yard.

“Guess we’re safe here,” said Aredhel, and then paused, looking startled. “Wow. Did you hear those words just come out of my mouth? I’m talking about avoiding my brother like he’s the zombie apocalypse.”

“Well,” said Elenwë, leaning up against the side of the house. “He may be your brother, but he’s also the man I scorned. So really, I have more of a reason to hide.”

She paused too. “You’re right, that does sound idiotic.”

Aredhel sighed and plopped down in the grass in front of Elenwë. “I’m not usually so conflict adverse,” she said musingly. “Maybe I really do feel guilty. Am I turning into Nelyo?”