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“It’s not…it won’t…” Oromë gave a muffled curse. “All right, to hell with it.” He pulled the tie free from Celegorm’s neck and tossed it to the bed.

“Hang on, won’t I look bad without it?”

“You could wear a tux and you’d still look like an insolent, unruly, unbearably enticing rogue.” Oromë tilted Celegorm’s chin up and pressed a swift kiss to his lips. “If they’re any judge of appearances, they’ll throw you out immediately, tie or not. But bad? You’re incapable of looking bad.”

“Good, then I’m undoing the top button too.” Celegorm did so, even as Oromë’s fingers lingered on his chin, thumb brushing lightly over Celegorm’s lower lip.

“Hm. Bad choice…”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you know I can’t resist your throat.” Oromë bent to press a slightly more prolonged kiss to the exposed hollow of Celegorm’s throat, and Celegorm gripped Oromë’s jacketed shoulders warningly.

“Careful,” he said, his voice a little rough. “If you leave a mark…”

“Then you’ll have to button your damn shirt, won’t you?”

Celegorm groaned. “I can never tell when you’re being legitimately being seduced by me, and when you’re blatantly manipulating me…”

“I’ll never tell.” Oromë pulled back, though his movements were undeniably reluctant, and placed a final kiss on Celegorm’s lips.

“Does that mean you think I look good?” Celegorm tilted his head back, grinning. “You like me all dressed up and squeaky clean, huh?”

Oromë gave a half smile, and there was a glint in his amber eyes. “I like you all ways.” He tossed Celegorm his jacket. “You know that.”

Celegorm caught it and slung it over his shoulder. “Damn straight. Now let’s get this double-date on the road.” He caught up with Oromë and grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers. “Vána and Nienna, here we come… There’s no way they’re going to look hotter than we do.”

“No comment.”

“You’re right,” said Celegorm musingly, as Oromë pulled him out the door. “I’ve seen your wife, and she is a dime…”

Oromë sighed, laying an arm over Celegorm’s shoulders as Celegorm sauntered down the walkway. “This is going to be a very long night, isn’t it?”

"You better believe it, babe."

Chapter End Notes

0. My official Caranthir/Finrod/Curufin song. (Next chapter is going to be entirely angsty songfic – at one point, one of the characters will actually sing parts of the song to another, to fully express their feelings.)

1. In all seriousness: I’m coming up on about a month plus of travel for work, travel for the holidays, being with family, being at conferences, etc, so I’m going to be wicked busy. This is all to say that I have no clue when I’ll get the time to write the next update! It could easily still be weekly for a bit; I really have no idea how busy I’ll be until I get into it. And given that I do write for my own stress-relief, it may just be the way I spend my one free hour a day… but it could just as easily be a while before I have the flexibility or brain power to do so. (Not to mention I have several plot threads to untangle, and some new ones I’m desperate start, and I need to figure out my shizz before I dive into writing them.) So please be patient with me over the next month or so! I really appreciate, by the way, everyone who’s commented or kudosed or done fanart (this still blows me away, my god) – it never fails to make my life. I’ll still respond to any comments or messages (I’m imindhowwelayinjune on Tumblr, if anyone hasn’t found me there yet) – they make me so happy that it’s nigh impossible for me NOT to respond, anyway.

I love your lies, I'll eat 'em up

Chapter Summary

You didn’t really expect this to be a straightforward double date, did you?

Chapter Notes

0. For some reason, even though I’ve known what was going to happen in this chapter for…over a month, actually, it was like pulling teeth to write it. But I managed to get it out! We’ll see if I can pull off another chapter before I leave for a conference in two weeks and then get sucked into family and holiday things…(I appreciate, as ever, your patience with me <3)

1. Dedicated to all the wonderful people who have given me encouragement, of both the verbal and artistic variety. MJ, Irene, Silje, Elleth, and all of the rest of you who put up with my whining and send me love anyway – this one’s for you. Irene, you have earned, like, five big sloppy kisses from me for all the indulgent doodles you send me. (Cue Irene being incredibly grateful there’s an ocean between us and I can’t actually get my paws on her). Likewise, MJ, your elf dicks and deeply, horribly distracting drawings give me life. By which I mean, I die errytime.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Here are the things you’re not going to do. Celegorm shrugged his jacket off and laid it over the back of his seat, looking determinedly at his place setting. You are not going to make horrified noises at the prices when you open the menu. You are not going to put your elbows on the table. You are not going to get drunk. You are not going to make dick jokes, and for fuck’s sake, stop staring at your boyfriend’s wife’s cleavage.

He raised his eyes cautiously. Vána was sitting across the table from him, her shoulders bared by the swooping neckline of her dress, a heavy green pendant lying between her breasts. It certainly drew the eye, and Celegorm found himself noticing, yet again, what a deeply attractive woman Vána was. He wrenched his eyes upward, and caught Vána watching him. She winked.

Celegorm choked and buried his nose in his water glass to hide his embarrassed grin.

Oromë laid a hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” muttered Celegorm. “Something just went down the wrong way.”

“That happened to me once in Prague,” said Vána, taking a sip of her own water. “I was in bed with this beautiful Czech woman and I ended up hooked on her hood piercing. Talk about going down the wrong way…”

“Vána,” said Oromë and Nienna together.

Vána gave a beautiful smile, and Celegorm hooted, then caught himself and coughed to cover his laugh. “Damn. Can I marry you next?”

“Nienna has – what do you call them? – dibs,” said Vána. “But since apparently we’re all about taking young lovers these days, Tyelkormo, let me just – ”

“Vána,” said Oromë. “For heaven’s sake.”

“Time to order the wine,” said Nienna firmly, and beckoned for the waiter.

-

Some time later, they were well into a bottle of a very good wine that cost about as much as Celegorm made in a week – “Do not make that face at me, Oromë,” Vána said dismissively, “it is our treat.” – and the first course of an excellent dinner. Oromë was as smiling and relaxed as Celegorm usually only saw him when they were alone together, and Nienna was sharing stories from work.

“My own patients are mostly lovely people,” she was saying, setting her wine glass down. “Most of whom have endured unimaginable tragedy. I do work with people who have survived natural disasters and other accidents – shootings, fires such as the one at – ” she broke off, then, her dark eyes catching Celegorm’s for a moment, and the unspoken flames of Alqualondë reared momentarily between them. But then Nienna went on smoothly, breaking eye contact with Celegorm. “ – and on the whole, I am very lucky in the people I treat. No, the good stories come from my twenties, when I wasn’t a grief counselor yet but just an assistant in a regular doctor’s office.”

“Oh, yes,” said Vána, dabbing her lips with her napkin. “What was that story about the man in the waiting room, who turned into – ”

“A tiger,” said Nienna, imperturbably.

“Sorry, what?” Celegorm propped his chin on his hand and regarded her with fascination.

“I came out to tell him the doctor was ready to see him for his lymph node issue,” said Nienna, taking a cherry tomato from Vána’s plate, “and he was prowling the waiting room on all fours, growling.”

“Apparently it just happened sometimes,” said Vána. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

“Yes. He told us later that he was a tiger approximately 25% of the time, and that he couldn’t say when it was going to happen, but not to worry, he’d never mauled anyone.” Nienna looked thoughtful. “And he certainly never gave us any trouble.”

“Bitchin’,” said Celegorm, delighted, and then paused. Pretend you’re Curvo. Talk like you have a thesaurus up your ass. “Ah. I mean, that is some truly prodigious shit.” He swallowed his wine and winced as Oromë chuckled softly. “ ‘Scuse my language.”

“You’re right,” said Nienna, turning to Vána. “He is oddly charming.”

“Oddly?” said Celegorm, grinning, as Oromë laid an arm across the back of his chair and leveled a glance at the two women.

“That’s quite enough, you two.”

“I don’t even remember the last one you brought around who wasn’t a hopelessly ill fit for you,” Nienna went on. “Do you, Vána?”

“Well, it is hard to stretch the brain back that far.” Vána ate a leaf of spinach pensively. “Oh, who was that terribly peculiar one you were seeing, my goodness, ten years ago? The pale one…he wrote a lot of poetry…”

“Oh!” Nienna nodded. “Didn’t he play with you?”

Oromë groaned. “Can we not – ?”

“No!” Celegorm was looking avid. “Tell me more. This was someone on the national team with you?”

“Only briefly,” muttered Oromë. “You never would have seen him, he was third or fourth string…”

“And no wonder.” Vána shook her head. “Built rather slightly for a rugby player, that Tilion, I thought. Anyway, he retired and went into…something with satellites, was it?”

“I thought he was a solar panel technician.”

“Oh, he had all sorts of lunatic ideas about what he was doing with his life.”

“Whatever it was, he was probably far better at it than rugby…”

“I generally thought his main appeal must have been in the bedroom, n’est-ce pas? His poetry was terrible, too.”

Oromë was spinning his empty wine glass between his fingers, looking deeply uncomfortable.

Celegorm was laughing. “Are you guys doing this for my benefit? Because man, I appreciate it.”

“I don’t.”

“Shh.” Celegorm laid his fingers over Oromë’s mouth. “I’m going to get all the dirt you won’t tell me.”

-

After another couple glasses of wine and the soup course, Vána and Nienna were laughing affectionately at Oromë, who had his head buried in his hands, and Celegorm was exultant.

“No shit! I always wondered what that tattoo meant!”

“Indeed. Our ‘Great Rider’…”

“Please stop,” Oromë implored them. “There is a reason I don’t let Nessa keep any photos of me from back then.”

“I have some,” said Vána immediately. “You forget I only met you, Oromë, because I was hopelessly in love with your sister.”

“Really?” Celegorm leaned forward, interested.

“Of course! She didn’t know it – well, neither did I, truthfully, I was young and oblivious and just thought I simply really liked her as a friend – and those were in the days before she was the Nessa, before she was dancing professionally, before she was prima ballerina, before she and Elemmírë opened their studio…”

“…before she got married…”

“Hush, you,” said Vána, slapping lightly at Nienna’s arm. “I got married too, after all.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get the sibling you wanted,” said Oromë, smiling slightly. “I’m afraid I’m nowhere near as light on my feet as she is.”

“You have the same delicate ankles,” said Vána, and laughed as Oromë flicked water from his glass at her. “Anyway, Tyelkormo, I have photos of our Oromë as a young wastrel that I am certain you will appreciate.”

Celegorm got to his feet, laughing too. “I’m gonna make you share those, for sure. I’ll be right back.”

-

Coming out of the restroom, Celegorm made to go back into the dining room, but something made him draw up short before he made it out of the hallway. There was a figure standing at their table, facing away from him, and it wasn’t the waiter. A well-dressed, dark-haired man…and at his side, a woman with very familiar red hair.

Celegorm’s back hit the wall of the hallway so hard that the framed reproduction of Olympia next to him slipped precariously on its fixture. Wincing, Celegorm reached out a hand to straighten it, then peered very cautiously around the corner once more. This time, the man had turned slightly, and Celegorm could see his profile. There was no mistaking it.

Fëanor and Nerdanel were talking to Oromë.

His heart beating horribly fast, Celegorm retreated slightly, drawing an odd look from the woman pushing past him to use the restroom.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered. “Tonight of all fucking nights… Goddammit, what were we thinking?”

He pulled out his phone and texted the only person he could think of.

curvo. SOS. dads at the fucking restaurant.

He waited, knowing that Curufin, if he wasn’t absorbed in a project, generally responded almost instantly.

He wasn’t let down.

What restaurant? What are you talking about? Don’t SOS me if you’re going to be totally obscure.

i’m on a date with orome. and his wife and her gf.

…You are certifiable. You went out in public?

it was their idea. vana’s and nienna’s. dad AND MOM just showed up.

i was in the bathroom thank god but now theyre at our table talkin to orome wtf do i do

Stay put, obviously, until they leave.

but what if they suspect something?

They might. But it’s just going to look like Orome is out with his wife and a friend, isn’t it?

They don’t know he has his idiot boytoy with him. Or that that’s you.

u r not helping

What do you want me to do? Rappel in through the skylight and cause a diversion?

yeah! wait tho, actually, can you call dad/

Seriously?

cmon. just get him to step outside

Then when you try and slip out, you’ll have to go right by him. Moron.

No, you wait until he’s seated with mom - however long that takes –

then if your boyfriend is at the very least smarter than you, he’ll get the check and leave,

and you can slip out with him as he goes.

i haven’t even finished my dinner!

That’s what you’re worried about? Jesus,Tyelko.

ok ok yeah

Celegorm looked up from his phone and dared another peek around the corner. Fëanor was talking to Vána now while Nerdanel had bent down to say something to Nienna. Oromë was looking around, clearly tense. He caught sight of Celegorm and his eyes lit with anxiety. He shook his head slightly. Celegorm held up his phone, and mouthed, Text me. Fëanor straightened up, and Celegorm whisked back around the corner, typing fast.

can u try n get out as soon as they leave?

There was a pause, doubtless due to Oromë trying to be subtle in reaching his own phone.

I’ll get the check asap. Stay where you are.

k

Celegorm tipped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes briefly. This is what he was afraid of. He opened his eyes and stared unseeing at the wall of the hallway. He’s going to do that thing where he tries to convince me this is his fault and I deserve better.