第 7 页

“I know what it does to you,” said Celegorm, grinning even as his fingers dug grooves into Oromë’s back. “I know you like to hear me describe how I want to be fucked, how I want you to press so deep into me I almost black out, how – oh fuck.”

He reached back and gripped the slatted headboard, bracing himself against Oromë’s thrusts. “Oh fuck, yes, just like that, harder, c’mon Coach, give it to me…”

“You have a filthy mouth, Tyelkormo,” said Oromë, and stopped it with an open-mouthed kiss that left Celegorm breathless.

* * *

“Did you ever hear from Tyelko?” Maedhros looked up as Curufin came down the stairs. He was working on washing a week’s collected pile of dirty dishes, while Maglor dried them and hummed beside him.

“No,” said Curufin, making for the front hall.

“Were you working on something?” called Maglor. “You’ve been buried in your computer all evening.”

“Research,” said Curufin absently, grabbing his jacket.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Jesus, mom and dad, lay off the kid,” said Caranthir, from the living room, where he was watching TV. “You two are the worst.”

Maedhros and Maglor glanced at each other sheepishly, and Curufin took the opportunity to slip out the front door.

He checked his phone only once, to verify the address.

Not far.

It was only thirty minutes before he was standing by the driveway, reading the last name painted on the mailbox. A twist of satisfaction and anger stirred in his stomach as he spotted a familiar bike tipped up against the side of the house.

He’d been right.

He made his way up the path to the front door, telling himself it was irritation, not nerves, that had his heart beating faster. He pulled on his coolest indifferent mask, and knocked.

* * *

“Was that the door?”

Celegorm groaned and pulled on Oromë’s neck. “No. C’mon, I’m so close…”

But Oromë had stilled, listening. The knock came again.

“Christ,” said Celegorm, throwing himself back on the pillows. “If it’s just some ancient neighbor asking to borrow a cup of sugar, I’m gonna go apeshit.”

Oromë pulled himself gently free of Celegorm’s arms and rose, grabbing his robe from the back of the door. “I’ll be back.”

“If you take longer than five minutes I’m finishing without you,” called Celegorm after him, dropping an arm over his eyes. “What fucking timing.”

* * *

Curufin almost stepped back when the door opened. He’d forgotten how big Celegorm’s coach was. He filled nearly the whole doorway, and it was hard not to feel intimidated, staring up at that powerful figure. But the amber eyes, as they gazed down at him, were mild and a little confused.

“Can I help you?”

“Coach Aldaron.” Curufin was pleased that his voice was even and cool.

“Yes.” Oromë’s brows drew together quizzically as he frowned. “And you are?”

Curufin didn’t answer him directly. “I’m here to see my brother.” He smiled briefly, a flash of sharp white teeth in the darkness. “I believe he is here.”

* * *

Celegorm rolled over as Oromë came back into the room, and grinned up at him, letting the sheets slide from his naked body. “Good timing. I was about to start back up without – ”

“It’s for you,” said Oromë quietly.

Celegorm raised an eyebrow. “What? It’s a bit late for the UPS guy, Oromë.”

“It’s not the UPS guy,” said Oromë, and his face was inscrutable. “It’s your brother.”

“My – What?” Celegorm sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Are you serious? Which one?”

“He didn’t say.”

Celegorm swore and reached down to grab his jeans from the floor. “It’s not a tall redhead, is it?”

“No…”

“Well, that’s something.” Celegorm jerked his jeans over his hips and raked a distracted hand through his wild hair. “Fuck. Okay, I’ll be right back. Hopefully.”

* * *

Curufin leaned lightly against the doorframe, waiting, having refused Oromë’s invitation to come in. He straightened up slightly as he saw his brother coming down the hall, bare-chested and with his hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, his face a mixture of anger and apprehension.

“Curvo?” Celegorm pulled up short, staring. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“That’s what I came to ask you,” said Curufin, pinning him with a look. “What are you doing here, Turkafinwë?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Celegorm’s face darkened. “Did you track me here?”

“It wasn’t that hard,” said Curufin. “You’re incurably careless. You always have been.”

“Why the – ”

“Why are you sleeping with him again?” demanded Curufin.

“ ‘Again’? What do you – ”

“Please.” Curufin waved a dismissive hand. “I know you slept with him in college.”

“How?”

Curufin growled. “Because I am much, much smarter than you, Turko, and I know you.”

Celegorm’s eyes flashed. “All right then, good for you, you’ve figured it out. Now why the fuck are you here?”

“Why are you?” Curufin stood upright, meeting Celegorm’s furious gaze. “How stupid are you? How can you trust a man like this, someone who – ”

“Because I do,” snarled Celegorm. “And beyond that, Curvo, it is none of your fucking business.”

“It is,” said Curufin, clenching his jaw. “You’re my brother, and – ”

“What, are you looking out for me?” Celegorm gave a bark of laughter. “That’s adorable, Curvo, but really,” his eyes were merciless now, “you shouldn’t have.”

“He’s just going to hurt you again,” snapped Curufin. “He manipulated and abused you before, and now – ”

“Before? What the fuck do you know? What do you know about any of it?”

“I know you ended up in the hospital,” hissed Curufin. “I know you ended up with a shattered leg, and the end of your athletic career.”

Celegorm clenched his fists and pressed closer and Curufin felt a surge of anger that his brother was still able to loom over him. “That,” he said quietly, “was my own fucking fault.”

“It was because of him,” said Curufin, “you did it because of him. He makes you crazy, Turko, he messes with you, he – ”

But Celegorm was laughing, a harsh, cruel sound. “Oh, Curvo,” he said, and gave a smile that was more than half snarl. “You deluded, self-obsessed little fucker. Listen,” he leaned close, bracing one hand on the doorframe by Curufin’s head, “you are nothing but a pathetic fucking eighteen year old kid. And yeah, I treat you like a friend because I get a kick out of you, but we are not,” he bared his teeth, “equals. And you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He leaned back, face set in a cold smile, even as fire snapped furiously in his eyes. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

Curufin laughed, because to do anything else would hurt too much. He turned and set off down the path, Celegorm framed in the doorway behind him.

“Very well. Best of luck, brother. Oh, but Turko?” He looked over his shoulder then, a vicious smile on his lips. “You should know – he has a wife.”

And with that he turned and vanished into the darkness, leaving Celegorm a silent silhouette against the light streaming from the house.

Scared to love what we love most

Chapter Summary

Chickens come home to roost. Both in terms of fallout and in terms of two redheaded chickens. And by chickens I mean teenage twin scoundrels.

Chapter Notes

0. Warnings for the two most difficult sons of Fëanor being cruel to each other.

1. Don’t worry, we also return to Fëanorion family fun!banter (as opposed to mean!banter).

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Curufin didn’t fall asleep until just before dawn, and then Celegorm woke him just after it.

“Tell me why you said what you did.”

Curufin blinked sleep from his eyes, pulling himself swiftly into wakefulness.

Celegorm was kneeling over him, his hair hanging into his face, shadows dark under his eyes. He looked a little mad.

Curufin pushed himself up, refusing to be intimidated, and folded his arms as he leaned back against his pillows. “I’m impressed. This is very early for you.”

“Don’t fuck with me. Tell me why you said that.”

“Were you finding it difficult to sleep?”

Celegorm let out a snarl and wrapped a hand around Curufin’s wrist, jerking him close. “Tell me.”

Curufin laughed breathlessly, looking up at his brother. “I take it this means you didn’t ask him.”

Celegorm clenched his jaw, but his grip loosened slightly on Curufin’s wrist. “No.”

“Mm. I wonder if it was hard for you to finish the evening’s…activities, with that hanging over you.” Something bright and anguished came into Celegorm’s eyes at that, and Curufin knew he had struck close to the mark.

“Let me guess. You refused to tell him anything, pushed him into rough sex, picked a fight, and then lay awake all night, staring at his sleeping form, wondering how many times he’s lied to you…”

Celegorm sat back on his heels and gave a rough laugh. “Fuck, you are such a creepy kid.”

“I’m right, aren’t I.”

Celegorm buried his face in his hands, fingers digging into his hair. “Just tell me what you know, Curvo.”

“He’s married.”

“So you said,” Celegorm looked at him, and the dull resignation in his face pricked Curufin’s conscience more than his anger. “How do you know?”

“Because I know how to use the internet, Turko.” Curufin sighed, and kicked until Celegorm slid back to the foot of the bed and Curufin could swing his feet to the floor. He padded over to his desk and grabbed his laptop.

“Look.” He pulled up the various pages he’d found the night before. “Wedding announcement. Wedding registry. Brief write-up in the local paper.” As Celegorm stared, Curufin shook his head. “Honestly, you’re hopeless. You could have found this with a google search in a matter of minutes.”

“I never thought to.” Celegorm’s eyes were fixed on the computer screen.

“Stupid.”

“Vána Young.” Celegorm spoke the name like it was cutting into his tongue. “Who the fuck is she?”

“A reporter.” Curufin pulled the computer back and opened up his history. “An international correspondent for Al Jazeera, in fact. She writes about climate impacts in the Middle East. She’s actually pretty good, I was reading some of her stuff.”

“I don’t give a shit if she’s good,” said Celegorm violently.

Curufin closed the computer carefully. “So he’s never said anything about her? You never saw any sign – ?”

“Obviously not.”

Curufin looked at him shrewdly. “Would you still have slept with him?”

“Probably,” Celegorm said, and drove his fist against the mattress. “They must be divorced, or separated or something. The internet wouldn’t tell you that, would it?”

“No,” said Curufin slowly and opened the computer again. “But there’s a picture of them, look, at a press fundraiser just a year ago. You were still in school then, right? So wouldn’t that mean – ”

“Shut up,” said Celegorm. “Stop it. I don’t want to hear about it, I don’t want to know, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Curufin looked up and saw Celegorm slumping forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. His powerful frame seemed to shrink, and Curufin felt a bite of discomfort. Celegorm had never been anything but larger than life, bold and brash and laughing, ferocious and quick-tempered and crude – he was never small. He was never diminished.

Except…

Except for that day when he’d come with his parents into that hospital room and seen Celegorm lying there. Bruises stood out lividly against his pale skin, and his leg was in traction, but it was the agony on his face that had rendered him practically unrecognizable. He looked almost small, then, and painfully young. Vulnerable.

Diminished.

And out in the waiting room, there was that great, quiet figure, his head bent as he spoke quietly to their father, looming over Fëanor in a way that very few men could do.

This was his fault, Curufin had thought, in a sudden, savage burst of certainty. He is the reason Turkafinwë has torn himself to pieces on the field. Him.

And so he pushed the guilt down and fixed his attention on his brother, slumped on the edge of his bed.

“I told you,” he couldn’t stop himself from saying. “I told you he would hurt you. He has already hurt you, and lied to you, and now – ”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just – ”

“Shut up.” Celegorm raised his face, ravaged and feral. “Don’t think I don’t know the pleasure you’re taking in this. You just love being able to rub my face in it. Just because you don’t give a shit, just because you’re incapable of feeling anything, just because you don’t give a shit about sex or love or anything – ”

“That’s not true,” said Curufin, taking a step back. It was true that he didn’t give a shit about sex, but what did that have to do with anything, much less love?

“You think just because you’re incapable of it everyone else should be just like you,” snarled Celegorm, and Curufin flinched back from the fury on his face. “What would make you happy, Curvo? Me being a celibate fucking monk like you are, a pathetic fucking virgin who doesn’t care about anything except being right...”

“You don’t know anything,” Curufin said sharply. “You don’t know what you’re – Shut up, Turko.”

“Don’t call me that,” spat Celegorm. “Only dad calls me that. Stop trying to be him, stop trying to control my fucking life, just like he does, you twisted little shit.”

“I’m not – ”

“Do you not get it?” said Celegorm, leaning forward and catching his chin roughly in one hand. “Just because you don’t care about anyone but yourself that doesn’t mean you can keep the rest of us from loving.”

Curufin wrenched away, furious. “I do care!”

“Like hell.” Celegorm watched him mercilessly. “You don’t care about anything, you little sociopath.”

“I care about you!”

The words rang out into the room, and Curufin froze, feeling the color rise in his cheeks. Celegorm stilled, and Curufin turned away, humiliated, balling his fists at his side.

“Curvo.”

“Get out.” He said it quietly. “Just leave, Tur – Tyelko. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Curvo.” Footsteps crossed the room and a hand came down on his shoulder tentatively. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you to get out.”

“Look at me.” Celegorm tugged him around. “Shit. I know you care, Curvo. I was just…I was being cruel.”

“You meant it, though.”

“No, I didn’t. I was being an asshole because you…kinda tore me up and spit me out. And we’re too fucking alike. When I get savaged I just want to tear right back. I wanted to hurt you as bad as I was hurting.”

“You were going to defend him,” said Curufin and looked at his brother at last. “After all that – you were going to defend him. I could feel it.”

Celegorm laughed, all sharp edges and broken glass. “Yeah. Because I love him.”

“Why? ” His voice came out louder than he intended it, and he blinked furiously.

“What on earth is going on in here?” The door was yanked open and Maglor stood there, tousle-haired and half dressed. “I could hear you yelling all the way down the hall, what – Tyelko? When did you get back?”