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Beleg lips moved as he read, or recited, lines from the article. “Saeros,” he mumbled, and lifted his arms to allow a green-aproned waitress to clear away their empty cups. “Oh, sorry.” He looked up paused at his shoulder. “Hey, Nellas, I didn’t know you were working today.”

Quiet, brown-eyed Nellas had frozen, her hands full, looking down at the paper in Beleg’s hands. “Did you mention Saeros?” Her voice was so soft Mablung almost couldn’t hear it, and he realized it was one of the only times he’d heard Nellas speak.

“Yes.” Beleg frowned. “Why?”

“I saw something in the paper…”

“This paper? Yes, about Túrin and Saeros, and Túrin being charged with assault.” Beleg’s voice had gone tight again as he jerked the paper in question, making it flap. “It’s probably all over town by now.”

“I…” Nellas shot a nervous glance over her shoulder. “I know something about that,” she said, in barely a whisper.

“About Saeros and Turin?” Beleg spoke so quickly that his words ran together. “About the incident? You know something?”

“I saw – ” But Nellas broke off as someone passed behind her. She looked anxious, and started to move away, and Beleg quickly but gently grasped her wrist.

“You saw something? They said there were no witnesses, this could change everything! Nellas, if you saw something, you should go to the police.”

Nellas looked like she wanted to run, and Mablung shook his head. Nellas was from his old neighborhood too, and if there was anything they’d all grown up understanding, it was that getting involved with the police spelled trouble. Beleg would remember this, if he wasn’t so damn preoccupied with that kid…

Beleg was speaking earnestly. “Please, if you know something, I have to hear it. Túrin's vanished, he’s my friend, and I’m trying to figure out what happened. If you know anything, please, tell me.”

Nellas’ eyes darted around the coffee shop. “I have a break in five minutes,” she said finally. “I’ll be out back.” She pulled way, and Beleg stared after her.

Mablung waited, as his friend grew increasingly twitchy and distracted. “Oh, go on,” he said at last. “Go wait for her in the alley, and try not to look like you’re selling drugs.” He shook his head as Beleg jumped up, stuffing the newspaper into his bag. “I’ll hold down our table.”

He leaned his head in his hand as Beleg hurried off, staring down at the three names written on the paper before him. He tapped his pencil to his lips, and thought.

* * *

Celegorm leapt into the air for the ball, catching it against his chest. He was about to let out a triumphant whoop as he descended, but at that moment, a giant grey blur collided with him midair, knocking him to the ground flat on his back, with a teeth-rattling thud. He lay there a moment, breath completely knocked out of him, staring at the sky. The grey blur yelped and licked his ear before running off.

“At least you kept ahold of the ball,” said a deep voice, and a long shadow fell over him. Oromë crouched next to him, examining him curiously. “But we know you have good instincts.”

Celegorm didn’t answer. He didn’t have enough air in his lungs.

Oromë sat down in the grass next to him. “You can, however, probably let go of the ball now.”

Celegorm realized he still had the football clutched to his chest, and he forced his hands to loosen enough so that it rolled away. His arms flopped out to the side, and Oromë bent over him to check him for injuries. He touched Celegorm’s ribs lightly, and Celegorm let out a breathless huff.

Oromë looked up at him. “Does that hurt?”

“Tickles,” rasped Celegorm.

Oromë grinned, finished running his hands lightly over Celegorm’s body, and dropped down next to him in the grass, head propped on his hand as he watched Celegorm recover.

“Dog’s a menace,” Celegorm managed at last, and Oromë nodded.

“He’s definitely picked up a thing or two from his master.”

“You blaming me for this?”

“Yep.”

Celegorm struggled upright and shoved Oromë over. “Asshole. I’m injured and you go and say it’s all my fault for mis-training my dog. Victim-blamer.”

“Tyelko, I’ve seen a femur protruding through your skin not slow you down. Don’t tell me you’ve been brung low by a year-old pup.”

“I’ll show you who’s been brung low by a pup,” muttered Celegorm, settling himself astride Oromë’s hips and pinning his wrists to the ground. “Unfeeling old man.”

“Unfeeling? Old? Watch it, or – ” Oromë was cut off as Celegorm kissed him soundly, his fingers tightening on Oromë’s wrists. “Mmph.”

They stayed like that on the grass for a while, Celegorm continuing to let out little complaining grumbles about demon dogs and heartless boyfriends, until Oromë laughed and took Celegorm’s lower lip between his teeth. Celegorm’s grumbles turned into a moan as Oromë urged his lips apart and ran his tongue against Celegorm’s, lightly demanding in the way that Celegorm liked. He released Oromë’s wrists, bringing his hands to his broad shoulders instead, and Oromë half sat up, wrapping his arms around Celegorm’s waist and pulling him against his chest, one palm between Celegorm’s shoulder blades to steady him. It was an unconscious habit he had, a way of holding Celegorm close to him and keeping him grounded, and Celegorm thought that the weight of that familiar hand on his back had to be the closest thing to pure comfort he knew. He looped his arms around Oromë’s neck happily and settled into his lap, leaning back into that touch, as his fingers absently picked blades of grass from Oromë’s hair. He could stay like this for hours, he thought, Oromë’s lips at his jaw, and throat, and the corner of his mouth, and nipping at his earlobe. There was something joyful in the way Oromë kissed him today, and Celegorm’s patience would almost allow him to sit there and make out like teenagers for the rest of the afternoon.

Almost.

Celegorm could only go so long straddling Oromë’s lap and feeling his hands slide under the bottom of his shirt, before he was itching for more. He ducked his head to capture Oromë’s lips from where they were exploring the side of his neck, and decided to see what he might be able to get away with.

But when Celegorm’s hands wandered down Oromë’s sides to the waistband of his jeans, and he ground down a little more intentionally against Oromë’s groin, Oromë broke their kiss, shaking his head. “I have neighbors, you know.”

Celegorm whined. “You have a fence for exactly this reason!”

“I have a fence for dog reasons.”

“Then let’s do it doggy style and call it close enough.” Celegorm nuzzled at Oromë’s throat, breathing him in. Even Oromë’s scent made him hard. “Take off your clothes.”

“Not again. I can’t imagine my neighbors didn’t notice the hammock incident last week, and I’m trying to spare them too much…exposure…” Oromë broke off as Celegorm fastened his mouth to the skin of his throat, his voice roughening. “Dangerous territory there, boy.”

“I know, why do you think I’m doing it?” Celegorm sucked at Oromë’s neck, grinning triumphantly as he felt Oromë shift his hips involuntarily so that they rubbed together through the increasingly constricting fabric of their jeans.

Oromë’s hand stroked up Celegorm’s back to knot in his hair, pulling his head back slightly. “I promise if I retaliate in kind you’ll come out worse than I will. I know how you bruise…”

“Mmm, do it.” Celegorm pulled back and tilted his head, exposing the arc of his throat. “C’mon and mark me up, coach.”

Oromë looked up at him and ran a finger down Celegorm’s neck, just below his ear, effortlessly unhurried. “I’d call you shameless, and a horrible temptation, and all that, but I worry I’m growing redundant.” He smiled, and Celegorm felt his throat close up at how it lit his handsome face. There were still a few blades of grass in his dark hair, and Celegorm had a sudden flash how he must have looked as a young man, wild and carefree and beautiful. The sun was hot, and Oromë’s skin shone with a faint sheen of sweat as Celegorm ran his fingers slowly up his powerful arms. He pulled lightly at the neckline of Oromë’s t-shirt, exposing his collarbone, and he bent forward to deliberately lick the sweat from it. Oromë groaned, and Celegorm found himself lifted as Oromë got to his feet. Instinctively, Celegorm wrapped his legs around Oromë’s waist as Oromë tightened his arms under Celegorm’s hips.

“You gonna pin me to the wall, Coach?” Celegorm’s breath sped up as he felt sweat roll down his spine. So much for taking it slow.

“I’m going to take you wherever we are when I can’t wait any longer,” murmured Oromë, and gave a low whistle.

Celegorm shivered anticipatorily, but all that happened was that Nahar heaved himself up from where he’d been napping in the shade, and trotted past Oromë. Still carrying Celegorm, Oromë followed the dog up the steps to the house. Nahar rose up on his hind legs, pressed a paw to the door handle, and gently pushed it open. Oromë followed him through the door while Celegorm laughed in admiration.

“I hope you taught him that for just this kinda thing.”

“You hope I’m frequently carrying lovers in from the backyard? No, it’s so I know he can get into the house if it storms when I’ve left him out for the day.”

Celegorm buried his face in Oromë’s shoulder, still hanging on tightly. “I still can’t believe you won’t fuck me outside. You blew me on a mountaintop, but you won’t even have sex on your own property…”

“It has a direct correlation with the number of eyes around.” Oromë kicked open the bedroom door. “The mountain had zero, if you didn’t count that overly interested rock squirrel. The mountain didn’t have a home owners association, either.” He laid Celegorm down on the bed, very gently. Celegorm reached for the hem of his shirt, eager to get Oromë bare, to feel that broad chest pressing down against him.

Oromë let Celegorm pull the shirt over his head, and then returned the favor. As he settled down between Celegorm’s legs, their bare skin sticking together slightly in the heat, he laid a very soft kiss just above Celegorm’s heart. “Do you realize what day it is?”

“What? Uh, it’s a Tuesday, isn’t it?”

Oromë took a moment to look amused. “No, it’s not, actually. But that’s not what I meant.” He kissed Celegorm’s breast again. “Today marks two years, exactly, since we first…” He trailed off, and Celegorm caught his chin, pulling him up so they were face to face.

“Really?”

“Really.” Oromë’s voice was quiet, but caught with something intensely tender, and Celegorm passed his fingers just over Oromë’s eyes, brushing his eyelashes. Those amber eyes were unusually bright, and Celegorm felt sudden emotion close his own throat.

“Hey, whaddya know.” Celegorm tried to keep his tone light, but his voice was raspy. “Happy…anniversary, babe.”

“Here’s to at least two more years,” Oromë whispered. “And ideally, less broken up than the last two have been.” He kissed Celegorm slowly and deeply, and when they broke apart, Celegorm tasted salt.

He didn’t say much else, as Oromë undressed him the rest of the way, but his fingers pressed against the wolf on Oromë’s back, and Oromë laid a kiss against the echo of that wolf on Celegorm’s shoulder. The lump in Celegorm’s throat was too great for him to get the words out around it, but Oromë seemed to understand, for he whispered, “I know. I love you, I love you.”

The fan whirred. Two dogs slept in the hallway, quite immune to the murmurs and muffled sounds of love from the bedroom. Outside, the sun shone brightly on the grass in the backyard, where a football lay, quite forgotten.

* * *

Aredhel: Friends and fambly – You may have heard that the invasion of Casa Fëanorion by an actual female creature has been effectively perpetrated. Yes, the rumors are true, I have moved in with Tyelko and Curvo, and they are so much better for my presence. Curvo has even kindly refrained from killing me in my sleep, which I’m told means he likes me.

In celebration of this historic event, there will be a PARTY at 1495 Mithrim Lake Road, two weekends from now. (Apparently this is how much advance notice certain of my new roommates need.) Dress code: douchebag chic. Basically just raid Tyelko’s closet (that’s what I’m going to do) and you’ll be set. Gifts: Only accepted in liquid form. Time: If you come before sunset, there will be grilling in the backyard. If you come after sunset, all the hotdogs will be gone, but there will be a beerpong table and suitably douchebaggy music, provided by DJ Tyelbromo. Tofudogs available on request, even though Tyelko makes gagging noises every time I mention them.

RSVP on this thread. Love you nerds.

Curufin: 1.) It doesn’t mean I like you. It simply means that I have no desire to enter your territory and risk bleeding out from the throat when your demon pet attacks me. 2.) Party will be shut the fuck down if it goes past 2am or annoys me unduly. Be warned.

Celegorm: oh, nugget. i’m in too good a mood to even roll my eyes at you and ur cute little threats

Celegorm: follow up: is it ‘douchebag chic’ or ‘urban swag’　　? u decide. also brb patenting the name dj tyelbromo

Curufin: You don’t patent stage names, you raving idiot.

Maedhros: I’m so glad this is already cluttering my inbox.

Celegorm: shh mae or ireth will tell everyone what she found in your closet when she moved in

Fingon: uh oh

Maedhros: …

Maedhros: sending you a private message

Aredhel: yeah. uh oh INDEED. Anyway, none of you assholes have actually rsvp’ed yet　 This is not the place for gossip and chitchat　

Galadriel: I’ll be there. So will Teleporno. Three tofudogs please.

Argon: i don’t plan anything 2 wks in advance. check back w me the friday before

Argon: will there b chicks?

Aredhel: Arko you are the ass-worst.

Aegnor: I’ll come over after my ultimate game that day. Can I bring some people?

Argon: bring chicks

Aegnor: There will be individuals of a female persuasion, yes. Among others.

Aegnor: I will also be bringing my stump

Aegnor: Have you got a hammer at the house? If not I’ll bring mine.

Aredhel: o.O

Finrod: I think this would be a good time to mention I’m afraid I can’t make it.

Celegorm: weh weh. oh well. another time. what a shame.

Aredhel: Ignore him. We’ll miss you, Ingo, but I’m sure I’ll see you around. Actually I was going to hit up you or Artanis or both to proof my resume at some point?

Finrod: of course!

Galadriel: Ditto.

Elenwë: I know I can’t actually rsvp since this is approx. 1000 miles away from me right now, but I would just like to say that I’m glad I got copied on this because it is making me love you all very much.

Aredhel: SKYPE ME i miss u

Elenwë: Querida we just got off skype 15 mins ago

Aredhel: ;_; fine i can wait for tomorrow

Glorfindel: Hey! Thanks for copying me. I’ll totally be there, and am I reading correctly that the Gentlemen’s Sport of Stump will be being played?

Aegnor: I don’t know you but I like you already