第 56 页

You don’t always want more, but you don’t like perceived rejection either. This, at least, Finrod could remedy. He bent down and very softly pressed his lips to Curufin’s, letting actions say what words could not. I am still here, I still want you, but this is enough.

Curufin let out a sigh, his lips parting, and Finrod felt something that had been stretched too thin within him loosen as Curufin’s arms went around his neck. They kissed, slow and quiet, bodies barely touching, and there was a flicker of a moment in which Finrod could feel both of their contentment.

“I need to go,” he whispered, finally, and Curufin’s arms tightened briefly around his neck before releasing him.

“Yes, probably,” Curufin said, his breath coming a little fast. “It is late, after all.”

-

Celegorm was yawning, coming out of the bathroom, when he walked almost directly into Finrod. Finrod had his hand on the doorknob to Curufin’s room and was pulling it quietly shut behind him, pausing for a moment to lean his head against the wood, eyes closed. His hair was mussed and there was color in his cheeks, and he jumped, shocked out of his stillness, when he brushed against Celegorm.

Celegorm blinked blearily at him, still half asleep. “Whozat. Ingo? What’re you doin’?”

“I was talking to Curvo,” said Finrod quickly. “I had a…question. We were just talking.”

Celegorm shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “Wait. You were in Curvo’s room? In the middle of the night?” But as suspicion began to dawn, Finrod slipped past him, quick as a cat, and was down the stairs and out of sight before Celegorm could stop him. A dark certainty twisting in his gut, Celegorm reached for the door and pushed it open.

Curufin was in bed. He looked up, then angled himself quickly away as the dim light from the hall fell across him, but not quickly enough. Celegorm saw at once that his cheeks were flushed, his hair as tousled as Finrod’s, and in the moment before Curufin pulled a shirt over his bare chest, Celegorm could see a faint mark on the thin skin of his throat.

Celegorm froze, eyes widening. “Curvo?”

“What are you doing? Get out.”

Celegorm made a jerky motion, pointing to the stairs. “You – You and him – ”

“We were talking,” snapped Curufin, a breathless note to his voice beneath the sharpness. “Go to sleep, Turko.”

“You – What did he – Did you – ” Celegorm’s fingers tightened on the doorknob as he tried to pull himself together. “Were you – No, I can’t believe it, are you serious?”

“Fuck off,” Curufin snarled, his cheeks burning brighter still. “Get out of my room, get out of my face, go away.”

“Why – ”

“Now!” shouted Curufin, his control snapping like a frayed thread, and Celegorm was too stupefied to do anything but pull the door closed and stand in the hall, no idea what to do next.

-

The sound of voices had woken Maglor, but he was fairly used to random nocturnal outbursts; they were a more or less nightly occurrence growing up and had not lessened all that perceptibly with time. He rolled over and closed his eyes, but the continued pacing of feet in the hallway kept him from dropping back to sleep. Groaning, he slid his legs out of bed and padded to the door to stick his head out.

“Who is that? Will you shut up, I’m trying to sleep… Tyelko?”

Celegorm was turning small feverish circles in the hall, looking totally beside himself. Apparently unable to stop his frantic pacing, he didn’t answer Maglor’s query, and so Maglor reached out for him. Tugging his brother by the arm, he pulled him into his room and shoved him down on the end of the bed.

“Okay, you’ve gone crazy. What’s up now? Is it something to do with Oromë? With dad?”

“NO!”

Maglor raised an eyebrow, interested despite his sleepiness. “What then?”

Celegorm gestured violently. “Findaráto!”

Maglor sighed. “Yes, I think he’s downstairs in Moryo’s room. Did you hear them again? I’ve been sleeping with earplugs lately, though I think I misplaced my…”

“He’s downstairs in Moryo’s room now. But before that he was up here. With Curvo!”

Maglor massaged his temples, frowning, not comprehending. “What do you mean?”

“He’s been fooling around with Curvo. Tonight for sure, and probably it’s not the first time, goddamn Curvo, I should have known he wasn’t telling me the whole story…”

Maglor held up a hand. “Wait. Findaráto and Curvo? No. No, he’s been sleeping with Moryo, that’s why he and Amarië broke up.”

Celegorm almost snarled his impatience. “Keep up, Káno. He’s screwing around with both of them.”

“He’s sleeping with Moryo.” Maglor said it as if repeating this fact would make everything else fall into place.

“And he’s coming out of Curvo’s room at 2am half-dressed!”

Maglor’s face went blank, and Celegorm threw his hands in the air again and started roaming the room like a caged animal.

“God only knows what he’s thinking he’s going to get out of Curvo…Curvo’s a kid, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, he doesn’t have a clue about this stuff. I didn’t think he even wanted this kind of stuff – If Finrod’s pressuring him I swear I will rip off his balls and make him eat them. If he thinks for a second he can get away with doing this to my little brother…”

“Shut up,” said Maglor expressionlessly.

“What?”

“Stop,” Maglor shook his head, trying to order his thoughts, “talking. Stop talking, stop moving, let me think.”

Celegorm dropped down on the floor and buried his head in his hands. “Why does everything have to happen all at once?” He looked up finally, since Maglor was still silent. He blinked at the savage look on Maglor’s face. “Káno?”

“We assume Moryo has no idea, right?”

“Yeah, probably…”

“Quite apart from the fact that Curvo is being a conniving little weasel right now – ”

“He’s a kid,” protested Celegorm. “He probably has no idea what – ”

“Oh, grow up. Curvo knows exactly what he’s doing, always. You’ve always been soft about him. I’m not thrilled that Finrod’s apparently his first experiment with anything, but you seem to be forgetting our other little brother!”

“What?”

“Moryo.” Maglor’s face was positively thunderous. “After the shit he’s been through, the last thing he needs is our damn cousin making a fool of him. How dare he?” He let out a snarl and kicked over a music stand.

Celegorm actually drew back, looking rather impressed. It was rare that Maglor lost his temper like this, but the last time he did, he had punched Celegorm in the face after a prank had gone too far and pushed Maglor past the breaking point. It had been ten years ago now, but it had left a distinct impression on Celegorm. Makalaurë is scary when he’s pissed.

“I don’t know what Curvo thinks is going on, but Finrod does not get to do this,” said Maglor tersely. “He does not get away with shit like this, he does not get to play our brothers like that.”

“Let me talk to Curvo, I can find out what’s actually going on. Maybe he has some kind of explanation, maybe – ”

“Do what you want, and good fucking luck, but leave Finrod to me.”

-

Celegorm got up relatively early, for him, and was vaulting out of bed, into clothes (a nod to Curufin’s delicate sensibilities), and across the hall to Curufin’s room before Huan had even had time to properly celebrate him being out of bed in his normal fashion.

Celegorm pushed open the door, not bothering to knock, like usual. Curufin was awake, dressed, and already at his desk, all three of his monitors pulled up, tapping away ferociously at his keyboard. There was a mug of black coffee at his elbow, and an equally black expression on his face.

Celegorm ignored it. “All right, Curvo, we need to fuckin’ talk.”

“No.”

“Uh, not an option dude. I need to talk to you about last night, I have a fuckton of questions and I want answers – ”

Curufin turned a murderous face to him, and Celegorm took an involuntary step back.

“I have work to do,” said Curufin in a deadly soft voice, and Celegorm remembered suddenly why he never usually bothered Curufin in the morning. “Work that is far more my priority than your idiotic questions.”

“I don’t care, this is important.”

“Turkafinwë,” said Curufin, still in that brutally soft voice. “If you don’t leave now, I will electrocute you.”

Celegorm’s eyes were drawn unwillingly to the spark gap, but he refused to back down. “You’ve got an hour, okay? Then I’m coming back, and we’re talking about this.”

Curufin’s eyes blazed.

“Two hours,” amended Celegorm. “You’re going to need a coffee refill anyway – I’ll bring one.”

“Fine.” Curufin turned back to his computer, already tuning Celegorm out. “Two hours.”

-

Exactly two hours later, Celegorm reappeared in Curufin’s doorway with a full coffee pot that he set deliberately on Curufin’s desk. Then he stepped back and waited. Curufin flicked a glance at the coffee pot. “Decent table service for someone with no training or natural graces.”

"Cheers." Celegorm spun Curufin’s desk chair to face him and was rewarded with a scathing glare that he ignored. “What the fuck did I see last night, Curvo?”

“You said you had questions. By all means, be more specific and less rhetorical.”

Celegorm tightened his fingers on the chair, then released it and started to pace, never able to stay still when he was truly agitated. “You said you didn’t want anything more to do with him. You said you weren’t interested, it was a mistake, that that one kiss was all that happened…Did he pressure you? Did he try to make you do anything you didn’t want to? I swear to god, Curvo, if he did, I will kill him, I will kill him with my bare hands – ”

“Shut up,” snapped Curufin. “He did nothing of the sort.”

“Then why – You told me – ”

“I lied to you, you buffoon,” said Curufin, not bothering to look at Celegorm as he stopped dead. “Obviously.”

If he’d been hoping this would shut Celegorm down, he was out of luck. Celegorm just moved closer, real anxiety in his face. “Curvo,” he said, dropping to the ground beside Curufin’s chair and putting his hand on Curufin’s knee. Curufin shifted away and Celegorm didn’t try to follow. “Are you okay? With everything that’s going on? You told me you didn’t want to sleep with him, with anyone, and I’m worried…”

“I’m not sleeping with him, or with anyone,” said Curufin cuttingly. “Stop looking like someone just shot your dog.”

“You two are clearly doing more than arguing about philosophy and kissing a bit,” Celegorm persisted. “Do you want to talk to me about any of that? Are you okay with what's been going on? If you need to, we can talk about what…” his attempt to sound calm and modulated frayed a bit and his voice sharpened, “…what he’s doing to you, that rat – no, sorry, I’m sorry, Curvo, look at me, I won’t call him names, I promise, I just want you to know you can talk to me….”

“I have nothing to say to you about any of it.” Curufin had crossed his arms and legs and was examining the nails on one hand. “I’m fine.”

Celegorm seemed to be struggling with self-control again as he got to his feet and ran his hand through his hair.

“So what, you actually like him? What do you think this is? A relationship? An affair? Some hookup buddy thing?”

“I think it’s none of your business.”

“What about Moryo? What about your brother? For fuck’s sake, Curvo – ” Celegorm’s voice was getting loud again.

“It’s none of his business either. And you will not,” Curufin’s eyes fixed on Celegorm piercingly. “Tell him.”

“No,” Celegorm snapped back, anger starting to overtake concern. “That’s not part of the deal anymore. This is bullshit, Curvo, and he has a right to know.”

“You are not going to say anything to him.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me.”

This time Curufin did look at him, fixing his full attention on his brother. He grabbed Celegorm’s wrist with surprising strength and yanked him close. “You owe me, Turko,” he hissed.

“How do you figure?”

Curufin laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, let’s take a tally, shall we? I helped keep secret your illicit relationship, for months after I first learned of it. I actively assisted you in deceiving our father on said relationship. I supported you, unfailingly, despite my intense reservations and doubts.”

“After you first tried to fucking split us up!”

“And now,” Curufin went on, ignoring him, “I have sacrificed my relationship with my father for your sake.”

“What?”

“I told him that if he pursued his vendetta against Oromë, he could figure on excising me from his life. If he loses you, he loses me.”

Celegorm was staring at him, horrorstruck. “You…you didn’t.”

“I did. We haven’t spoken since I called him to tell him so.”

“I never asked you to do that!” Celegorm cried. “I never wanted – Curvo, you didn’t have to…”

“But I did.” Curufin’s eyes were cold as metal. “I did that, all that, for you. You owe me.”

Celegorm looked like he was gathering what reserves he had to respond, but Curufin just laughed at him.

“You really think you can win this one? You really think you can argue that you don’t owe me, at the very least, your silence? Come on, Turko, surely that is the least reparation I deserve…After all I’ve done for you, you won’t grant me the respect of your silence? Haven’t you done enough damage?” He turned his head slightly so the light fell on the scar across his cheekbone and the still mottled skin. He ran his fingernails over the cut and it reddened, blood welling to the surface.

Celegorm looked like he’d been punched. “Curvo,” he croaked, reaching out a beseeching hand to his brother. “No, I never…I never meant…You know I didn’t mean…I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t…”

Curufin was merciless, staring him down. “You owe me.”

And Celegorm could find no argument against him.

-

Maglor found Celegorm in his room, curled into Huan’s dog bed, Huan’s head on his knee. Celegorm tended to fit himself into small spaces and curl up tight when he was truly upset, and for all his bulk, he looked small as he crooked an arm around Huan's neck and stroked the dog's ears.

Maglor came to a halt in front of him. “Well? Did you talk to him?”

“Yes,” said Celegorm dully.

“And?”

“And nothing. He won't say a thing, I should have known he wasn't...Anyway. I can’t do anything about it. He made me promise not to tell Moryo. I owe him. He’s done too much for me.” His eyes were bleak and his voice very quiet.

Maglor was unaffected. “That doesn’t matter,” he said, and Celegorm looked up at the briskness of his tone. “I assumed as much; Curvo doesn’t let anything by him without at least four contingency plans, but he hasn’t taken me into account. I didn’t make him any promises, I don’t owe him any secrets or silence, and neither of us promised not to go after our cousin. So you can sit here and be emotionally blackmailed by our little brother, but I’m going to talk to Finrod. Right now.”

* * *

The recitation Finrod led ended at three o’clock that afternoon, and he let his students file out ahead of him, exchanging faint smiles with those who nodded at him.