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I'll Be Yours If You'll Be Mine by NelyafinweFeanorion

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Thanks to Cheekybeak for looking this over!

It was getting to be a pattern. Home to Tirion in the morning—a run at the Rec Center, a shower, then back to Formenos in the afternoon. He'd finally managed to cross paths with Finrod after his run.

"I haven't seen you since Friday night," Finrod said, surprise on his face at actually finding his roommate home. Fingon had been in the kitchen, regarding the sadly depleted state of their refrigerator, when Finrod showed up. He decided to make some pasta; there was really nothing else to eat.

"You hungry?" he asked Finrod. "This is all we've got," he said, shaking the box of pasta at him.

"Yeah, sure." Finrod pulled out a chair and sat at the table as Fingon set down dishes and silverware. "So how did the Formenos weekend go?"

His answer took most of their lunchtime, as Fingon gave his roommate the condensed version, hitting the highlights and his disastrous attempt at skating.

Finrod leaned back in his chair when Fingon was done talking and shook his head. "Well, it sounds like he's got a valid reason for not staying over. Can't blame him." He narrowed his eyes at Fingon. "So, you've stayed at his place every night since Saturday?"

Fingon nodded. "I'm just trying to get him comfortable with me there. I know there's more to the story than just the nightmares. I just don't think he's ready to share that yet."

"I'm sure there's more to it than just the nightmares. It's probably related, like you said." He gave Fingon an appraising look. "You're not usually this patient."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean. Third date's usually a long time for you," Finrod pointed out.

"Shut up."

"Not that the first date is that unusual for you either," Finrod continued, warming to the subject, his grin widening at Fingon's obvious irritation. "Or first and only meeting, if I'm remembering the start-of-school party details correctly." It was definitely a smirk now.

"I can say the same about you," Fingon said, irritably. "And you did it a lot more frequently." He narrowed his eyes back at his roommate. "Really, it was only that one time."

"More than once but I think you at least knew their names, the other times," Finrod said with a laugh.

"Your fault. We started drinking way too early that night."

"Speaking of drinking. New Year's Eve. We have a reputation to uphold. You're not going to ditch me, are you?" Finrod asked.

Fingon had completely forgotten about their annual New Year's Eve bash. "Maedhros and I haven't made any plans yet."

"You're graduating in May so it will likely be our last one, other than the end-of-year party," Finrod said. "You can't miss this. Have Maedhros come with you. You can invite his brothers too. I'm sure the hockey player likes to party."

"Maybe I will," Fingon said. "It is tradition, after all."

"Maybe that means you'll finally get laid," Finrod suggested. "That's a tradition at the parties too."

"Maybe," Fingon said noncommittally, standing up to take the dishes to the sink.

Finrod moved next to him, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You are really serious about this guy."

"I am. I told you that." Fingon leaned on the counter, facing Finrod. "I don't want to rush things though."

Finrod raised an eyebrow. "It's been two months, hasn't it? I wouldn't call that rushing."

"Shut up. I mean it." Fingon frowned. "You know I dated around but it never was anything serious. A few weeks, maybe a couple of months. Then I'd take a break for a while until someone new showed up." He crossed his arms and his brow creased. "It didn't mean anything. It was just having fun. This is different. I want him to trust me first, you know? I want him to understand I'm here and I'm not planning on going anywhere." He shrugged. "If it's casual sex then the whole thing is casual, right? And I don't want that." He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "This is the first time I've thought about what it would be like to wake up to him every day. To come home to him every night. To watch movies, make dinner, do the dishes, I don't know—live together even."

"You've done dishes with me but I've never seen you look this interested in it," Finrod said.

"Seriously, Finrod. Do you have any idea what I'm saying?"

Finrod smiled, his blue eyes lighting up. "I do." He reached over and put his hand on Fingon's shoulder. "You're in love. Completely, hopelessly, utterly in love with Maedhros." He pulled his roommate into a hug. "I'm so happy for you," he said as he pulled back, his face radiating the same cheerful emotion as his words, his hands firmly on Fingon's shoulders. "Now don't fuck it up."

"I'm trying not to—I was worried for a while that I had," Fingon admitted.

"I recall," Finrod said drily. "But it seems you've gotten over that. You're going there again tonight?"

Fingon nodded. "Yeah, all week if I can. I've got to go to Mom and Dad's for the weekend and they want me to stay through Christmas. He's doing the same with his family. But at least until Friday, we're going to try this."

"Stay in touch," Finrod said. "Don't forget I'm spending Christmas in Alqualondë—my grandparents' present to the family. I leave Saturday-back in a week." He raised his eyebrow and winked. "I'd better get the word out about the party before I go."

It wasn't just being patient, Fingon thought, as he packed his backpack for the night in Formenos.

This time he was adamant about intimacy being tied to trust. He trusted Maedhros and he thought Maedhros was beginning to trust him, maybe did trust him, but there still was a distance between them. He'd opened up but Fingon knew there was more to the story than Maedhros let on.

That was part of it. But the other part was even harder to think about.

He knew the nightmares were upsetting for Maedhros, not just the fact of them but likely the reason behind them also. They didn't seem like just a random occurrence, especially not when coupled with some of his other behaviors and revelations. Something must have triggered them initially. Something traumatic.

His idea of getting Maedhros used to them sleeping in the same bed was to allow Maedhros to not feel so alone in this. But if he wasn't letting himself sleep the nightmares couldn't come. Fingon hated himself for wishing they would come; it was unfair to Maedhros and selfish. But he really wanted Maedhros to understand they wouldn't scare him off. He couldn't prove that to him if he didn't experience it—he needed to know what Maedhros went through, how he should behave during them and what he could do to make it better. And show Maedhros he would be right there, by his side, no matter what.

But there was another fear. Deeper down. One that related to the issue Finrod had addressed. He was afraid to get intimate with Maedhros before one of the nightmares came. He needed a nightmare to occur while they were like this, close but not to the next stage. If the first nightmare came on the night they had sex for the first time would Maedhros then see that as a trigger? Would he? How could they move on from something like that? It would make the situation unimaginably worse. It could destroy this emerging relationship that was growing between them, if that happened. It would taint it irrevocably, he thought. And that was something Fingon couldn't let happen.

It was almost six o'clock by the time Fingon arrived at the station. He had texted Maedhros that he would just meet him at the restaurant—the Japanese one around the corner from Beleriand.

"Sorry I'm late," Fingon said, as he slid into the seat across from Maedhros.

"You're not late," Maedhros replied. "I just got here."

"Good day at the store?"

"Lots of kids' books sold today," Maedhros grinned. "And I got Maglor to finally sort through all the vinyl I bought last week."

"Is he working at the store more now that he's on break?" Fingon asked.

"When I need him to. He's been focused on some new composition of his and from what I can tell it's frustrating him." Maedhros' eyes widened. "I hope he works it out before this weekend. It'll be a nightmare if he's in a mood over Christmas, with the whole family there."

"It must be lively with all of you home."

"I'm not sure 'lively' is the right word," Maedhros observed. "Chaotic, vociferous, argumentative might describe it more accurately." He leaned his head against his hand. "And Maglor gets a bit short-tempered when his musical endeavors aren't going well."

"I take it there's not much sympathy to be had for his predicament?" Fingon looked amused.

"Maybe from Mom," Maedhros admitted. "The rest of us will likely just bait him ceaselessly." His smile faded a bit as he continued. "But I probably shouldn't give him a hard time. He's stressed about finding a job. He's got a TA position for the spring, along with an independent study in composition. But he hasn't heard back from any of his job applications yet."

Fingon felt a cold weight settle in his stomach at Maedhros' words. "I can relate. I haven't heard back on any of mine either." His casual self-assurance in conversation with Maedhros yesterday seemed overconfident now, as he thought about it.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to do that," Maedhros said, belatedly realizing he had stirred up Fingon's anxiety about his own job search. "I'm sure you'll hear from them after the holidays." He brightened as another thought came to him. "They're probably just waiting to contact you after you start your internship. That makes sense—you'll have more insight once you start work at a real firm and they'll have practicing architects to give them recommendations, rather than professors only."

It was kind of Maedhros to try to make him feel better but there was still an undercurrent of uneasiness at the thought now.

"Shit. I've totally freaked you out now, haven't I?" Maedhros said apologetically.

"For once you're actually right," Fingon said, laughing despite himself. "Yes, I'm going to let you take the blame for this one, Maedhros. Just this once." He leaned forward across the table, a roguish expression wiping the worry off his face. "Now you've got to figure out how to make it up to me." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm expecting you to put forth your best effort."

Maedhros tilted his head, his eyes lighting up to match Fingon's. "I'm sure I'll think of something."

The food was good, the conversation even better. Before long they were on their way back to the lake house.

"Tyelko should be home tonight—unless he's with your sister again," Maedhros said, as they drove along the long driveway that led to the house.

"She didn't say anything when I talked to her earlier but it was mainly about the weekend and Christmas planning," Fingon replied.

The house was empty when they arrived, no other cars in the garage. A note was taped to the back door.

At Avallonë seeing Daeron tonight. Home late. –M

"Maybe that will cheer him up," Maedhros said, pulling the note off the door. "Or it will just get him more worked up, depending on how Daeron's performance goes tonight."

"Who's Daeron?"

"Maglor's best friend and biggest rival. He's in the music program with him. He plays at Avallonë fairly regularly," Maedhros answered. "I think Maglor would like to be invited to play there too but that hasn't happened yet."

"Was Daeron playing the night we were there?" Fingon asked, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it up in the laundry room.

"No," Maedhros said.

"Good," Fingon gave Maedhros a grin and wrapped his arms around him. "Because I didn't notice anyone but you that night."

Maedhros leaned down and caught his lips with his own, his mouth moving languidly, Fingon's mouth opening as their lips glided over each other.

"I only know that because I looked at the sign when we walked in," Maedhros said when they paused for breath. "I didn't notice anything else either."

"This is a good start to making me feel better," Fingon said as he went up on tiptoe, his hands curving behind Maedhros' neck as he pulled him down. Noses bumped, teeth clicked but then they found the right positions again, the pressure of their mouths and the slide of their tongues against each other heating Fingon's skin.

"We might want to get out of the laundry room," Maedhros murmured against Fingon's lips.

They broke apart long enough for Maedhros to take his coat off and then found each other's hands and mouths again, stumbling their way to the family room until they fell on the nearest sofa, Maedhros half on Fingon and half off the sofa.

Fingon's hands trailed through Maedhros' hair, the strands slipping through his fingers, his grip tightening as Maedhros deepened the kiss and ran his hands along Fingon's spine.

They hadn't kissed like this since that day at his apartment, Fingon thought. His skin tingled where it touched Maedhros and Maedhros' fingers trailed a string of electric shocks along his back, his arms, his chest, every point of contact.

Fingon's scent overwhelmed Maedhros, his hair brushing his face when he kissed along his jawline up to just below his ear, feeling Fingon quiver under his hands when he reached that sensitive spot. His skin was so warm to the touch when he moved his mouth to cover Fingon's again, his leg shifting for better purchase on the sofa, his hands skimming under Fingon's shirt.

"Seriously, you two. Get a room." Tyelko's amused voice startled them both, causing Maedhros to lose his precarious position and land on the floor with a loud thump.

Tyelko leaned over the sofa, a huge grin on his face as he looked at them both; Fingon still on the sofa and Maedhros sprawled on the floor. "You should see your faces," he said brightly.

This could not have happened again, Fingon thought. Seriously, what were the odds?

"Is Aredhel with you?" Fingon managed to croak out, moving to a sitting position while Maedhros picked himself up off the floor, his face thunderous as he regarded Tyelko.

"Nope, dropped her off at home before I drove back. Which is really too bad. I think she would have appreciated this." Tyelko was radiating amusement. He looked wide eyed at his brother, who was still glaring at him. "Hey, it's my house too, you know. I wasn't expecting to walk in to find you two grinding on the sofa."

"We weren't grinding," Maedhros objected.

"Whatever. Your face almost matches your hair right now, Mae, did you know that?" Tyelko successfully dodged the pillow thrown at him but it did nothing to diminish the merriment on his face.

As he looked from Maedhros to Tyelko, Fingon couldn't help it—he started to laugh. It was just too ridiculous. That must be exactly how he looked at Finrod a few weeks ago. He laughed harder. He buried his face in his hands and howled, tears coming to his eyes as his stomach started to ache from the laughter.

"Well, at least someone sees the humor in this," Tyelko said, comfortably leaning on the back of the sofa again and regarding his brother. "I'm glad your boyfriend has a better sense of humor than you do, Mae."

Fingon caught Maedhros' eye and the laughter just bubbled up again. "Now I know," he tried to say. "Now I know what I looked like when Finrod walked in." He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. "Sorry. It's just too funny that it happened again."

Maedhros sank down on the other end of the sofa, the laughter spilling out of him as well, his hands covering his face as his shoulders shook.

"Valar above," Maedhros finally said, as his giggling settled down. "I thought for sure you were going to freak out again," Maedhros kicked Fingon's leg from the other end of the sofa.

"Me? You were the one who looked like you were going to leap over the sofa and pummel Tyelko," Fingon responded, eyes wide and innocent appearing as he kicked Maedhros back.

"Because I thought you were going to get all weird about it again," Maedhros explained.

"Ok, I'm outta here. You two are a lot more fun when you're embarrassed than when you're arguing," Tyelko said.

"We're not arguing," Maedhros and Fingon said at the same time, laughing as soon as they realized they had spoken in unison.

Tyelko glared at them. "Please, no," he said, straightening up. "Please tell me you're not going to be one of those couples—the ones that finish each other's sentences, talk about what the other one likes incessantly and give each other those looks, because seriously I will not tolerate that at all."

Which only made them both dissolve into laughter again.

"You're hopeless. Both of you. I mean I already knew that about you, Mae, but I was holding out some hope for Fingon," Tyelko shook his head at them reprovingly but he couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"You're usually not that quiet coming in the house, Tyelko," Maedhros complained.

"I wasn't quiet!" Tyelko retorted. "I yelled 'hey' when I came in. I saw your car in the garage—I knew you guys were home. I thought you were watching a movie or something and didn't hear me. I didn't realize you were sucking face so hard that your hearing was impaired." He seated himself on the back of the sofa and regarded Maedhros. "Where's Maglor?"

"At Avallonë. He left a note," Maedhros answered.

"Maybe you should have left a note," Tyelko said. "Something like 'Humping my boyfriend on the sofa—steer clear of the family room', you know?" He smirked at them both. "Maybe put up a 'Men at Work' sign on the back door," he said, then his eyes lit up. "Or one of those 'Speed Hump' signs like they have at Cuiviénen. That's fucking perfect! Shit. I've got to steal one of those from campus and leave it in the garage for you." He threw his head back as he laughed.

He looked back down after a moment, taking in the sight of them seated on either end of the sofa now, their feet entangled together in the middle. "So, are you guys going to get a room, or what? We've got plenty of open ones upstairs. Go find one and let me watch TV in peace."

Neither one of them made a move to get up or shift their position on the sofa. Maedhros raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at Tyelko.

"No, damn it. I want to sit down here and watch TV. Why do I have to go?" Tyelko whined. "You've got a perfectly good room upstairs, Mae. Go feel up Fingon there."

Maedhros continued to give his younger brother an imperturbable look.

"Fine then," Tyelko scrambled over the back of the sofa and dropped onto their tangled legs, causing them both to hurriedly scoot out of his way. "I'll join you." He grabbed the remote from the table and gave Maedhros a triumphant grin. "What are we watching?"

Maedhros kicked him in the thigh but they both ended up comfortably sitting on either side of him as he flipped through the channels, giving them a running commentary on everything that flashed on the screen until he finally settled on a channel.

That was where Maglor found them a few hours later when he arrived home.

Daeron had put on a great show. The music selection was good, his pitch was perfect and the small crowd seemed to appreciate his efforts. He was happy for his friend but inwardly frustrated. He wanted a gig at Avallonë. It was just the right place for his kind of music. He'd chatted up the manager again tonight but no offer had resulted. Again.

He could hear the television and Tyelko's voice as he walked in. No chance of some quiet time for him unless he went up to his room.

Maglor didn't begrudge Maedhros this time with Fingon. It was good for him, even though they were taking some significant risks with this plan of theirs. Maedhros needed someone like Fingon, someone who could get past that wall of his. But it was wearisome to have people at the house all the time, especially now that Tyelko was bringing Aredhel over too. He knew he was being selfish but he liked the predictability of their old routine—always knowing what to expect when he got home.

If he was going to be honest he had to admit he was a bit jealous. Not of his brothers but of the fact that they both seemed to have found companions who paired well with them in a harmonious-and in Fingon's case in particular-a compassionate and considerate way. He hadn't had much experience with that and it was glaringly obvious to him as he watched both his brothers' relationships progress and deepen.

He may as well go in and join them. He recognized he had been distant each time he had come across them together the last few nights and he realized it was becoming noticeable, to Maedhros at least. It was rare for Maedhros not to sense his disquiet; he had spent too many years watching over Maglor to miss the signs.

"You're watching Star Trek? How many times have you seen this episode?" Maglor asked as he came into the family room and leaned against the doorframe.

Three faces turned at the sound of his voice. He nodded at Fingon and let his gaze drift over his two brothers and their relative positions on the sofa. "You sure you aren't getting in the way here, Tyelko?"

"You have no idea," Tyelko said somberly. "I walked in on these two getting it on. The image is now burned on my retinas. I was just trying to protect your delicate sensitivities from being exposed to the raw display of passion I walked in on earlier. You can thank me later." Tyelko was completely incapable of keeping the merriment tamped down as he continued to speak.

"He's exaggerating, of course," Maedhros said.

Tyelko turned to Maedhros. "How am I exaggerating? If I'd walked in five minutes later I'd probably have seen your bare-naked ass." He gave Fingon a side-long look. "Not to mention his," he added, nodding at Fingon. He looked at Maglor dolefully. "The things I do for you, Maglor. You might not have recovered from the sight of our incredibly uptight and proper older brother enthusiastically humping his boyfriend. OW!" Maedhros and Fingon had both kicked him. "You're doing it again!" he complained. "It's almost worse than them snogging on the sofa." He returned to addressing Maglor. "They're starting to talk at the same time, finish each other's sentences and mirror each other's actions." He shuddered. "It's nauseating." His grin contradicted his words and he was rewarded with another solid kick from his older brother.

"I was thinking of joining you," Maglor said. "But maybe I should just go to bed."

"Don't. It's exasperating to just have Tyelko here. We need a diversion from him," Maedhros said. "How was Avallonë?"

Maglor slumped onto the other sofa. "It was great. Daeron was great. Everything is great."

"That bad?" Tyelko asked.

Maglor sank further into the cushions. "No, really, Daeron gave a great performance. It's just that I've been trying to get them to hire me there for months and I've gotten nowhere." He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

"Maybe if you played something more upbeat, you know," Tyelko started to say before Maedhros kicked him again. "Come on, Mae," he protested. "If he wants to play that depressing, emo, lovelorn shit he used to write they'll never hire him. No one wants to listen to that when they're on a date."

Maedhros secretly agreed with Tyelko but there was no way he was going to admit that to Maglor.

Fingon unexpectedly joined the conversation. "I don't know, Tyelko. It might make the date seem better, hearing a sad love song and realizing their own situation isn't all that bad in comparison."

"Ok, that's it. I'm going to bed," Maglor said. "Depressing emo shit was a bad enough description but that's even worse. My emo shit is so bad it makes everyone else's look good by comparison. Great. Just what I aspire to."

"I'm sorry," Fingon said, sitting up hurriedly and looking at Maglor apologetically. "That's not how I meant it at all." He frowned at Maglor and darted a look at Maedhros before continuing. "I'm not saying it about you. It's just if your songs are sad and romantic, like Tyelko made it sound, then that would make people appreciate what they have more. Your songs would actually make the date better that way, by comparison."

"No way. It would just depress the hell out of me and I'd wonder if my relationship was going to turn into as big a pile of shit as the singer's," Tyelko said authoritatively, turning to Fingon. "Trust me. I've heard his songs. You haven't." Maedhros kicked him again.

"We're just teasing, Maglor," Maedhros said, sitting up himself. "The music you write now isn't like that-it's so much richer and more complex. Daeron's may sound pretty but yours tells a story, with the words and the melody. It may not be what they're looking for at Avallonë but there are other clubs on Nevrast."

"No, it's what Salmar said when I played him this piece I'm working on. The melody is great. It's just that the story sucks." He stood up. "I'm going to bed."

"Is he ok?" Fingon asked, as Maedhros walked into the bedroom.

""Yeah, he's fine now. He's just frustrated and Tyelko knows how to rile him up. Maglor knows how good his music is. He's stuck on a composition and that always pisses him off." Maedhros slid under the covers and turned to face Fingon. "He'll be fine once his creativity kicks in again." He shook his head. "It just might suck to be around him over the holiday."

"Speaking of the holidays-I don't know if you do anything special for New Year's or already have something planned-but Finrod and I usually throw a New Year's Eve party at our place. If you're free, I'd love to have you there with me," Fingon confided, putting his hand lightly on Maedhros' chest. It was warm, even through his t-shirt and he could feel his heartbeat.

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend New Year's Eve with," Maedhros replied, reaching out in turn to brush Fingon's hair away from his eyes.

"Then it's a date," Fingon smiled, remembering how flustered those words had made him when he had first said them to Maedhros all those weeks ago.

"Definitely a date." Maedhros was thinking back to that same moment. He could never have imagined, that night, that he would be here now.

It was so comfortable, just lying in bed, gazing at Fingon. It felt so much less awkward now. He was getting used to it far quicker than he had expected.

Fingon's hand was gently rubbing his chest now. He looked at Maedhros, those brilliant blue eyes soft and sleepy. "Can you try to sleep tonight, Maedhros?" he whispered.

Fingon saw Maedhros' jaw clench momentarily at his words and then his face relaxed again. "I can try."

"That's all I ask," Fingon said. "Please. You haven't slept since Sunday night." His eyes sharpened with concern now, the sleepy look driven away. "I worry about you driving. You haven't slept in days. I don't want anything to happen to you. You can't keep going without sleep like this." He scooted closer, burying his face in Maedhros' shoulder. "I can stay home tomorrow. So you can get some sleep. I know we can do this but I don't want to keep going if it's going to put you at risk."

Maedhros closed his eyes and stroked Fingon's dark hair, his fingers smoothing out the tangles. What a pair they were, each more concerned about the other than themselves. His heart stuttered a bit as the full realization of what he had just thought came over him.

He was in love with Fingon.

He had realized he was falling for him but it was way beyond that now. This was it. After all these years he literally had it in his grasp. And the most stunning part of it all? He was uncharacteristically confident that Fingon felt the same way. His heart was thumping in his chest as he finally answered him. "No. I don't want you to go. I like having you here with me," he whispered back, his lips just brushing Fingon's ear. "I promise I'll try."

Fingon tipped his head up to smile at him and Maedhros' heart stuttered again. It was in his eyes-all that they hadn't said to each other in words yet. When Fingon looked at him like that Maedhros knew. He hoped Fingon could see it in his eyes too. He couldn't quite bring himself to say the words yet.

"Thank you, for trying." Fingon touched his lips to Maedhros', warm and soft. He pulled back to look at him, his hand on his chest still. "I'll be right here. No matter what. Trust me."

"I do."

Fingon trailed his fingers down Maedhros' chest and then scooted across the bed, back to his side of the mattress. "Turn the light off, Maedhros. I'll be right here," he repeated, his hand finding Maedhros' hand and lacing their fingers together across the open space.


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