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

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Maedhros came home to Tyelko and Maglor watching football in the darkened living room. Maglor looked up as Maedhros entered and pointedly looked at his watch. "That may be your longest coffee break ever." He raised his eyebrows at Maedhros and looked particularly amused. "I might have to tell the boss to dock your pay."

"The least I could do was drive him home after he missed his train," Maedhros said, sinking down into the sofa next to his brother.

"It was your longest coffee break on record, even before you drove him home," Maglor stated, looking at Maedhros appraisingly.

"It was nice to have some intelligent conversation for a change," Maedhros bumped Maglor's shoulder.

"Did your 'intelligent conversation' get you any action, Mae, or are you still in your interminable dry spell?" Tyelko asked.

"Shut up, Tyelko," Maedhros said.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then. How could I forget—you never put out on a first date anyway." Tyelko gave him a huge grin and dodged the pillow Maedhros threw across the room at him.

"Did you two make any dinner or are you subsisting on beer again tonight?" Maedhros asked.

"The twin terrors brought bountiful bowls of Mom's food," Maglor said. "It's in the frig. At least what's left of it."

"That's about the only thing those two are good for—food delivery," Tyelko grumbled.

"They have been somewhat more surly lately," Maglor agreed.

"Surly?" Tyelko interjected. "They're assholes."

Maedhros rolled his eyes and sighed. "You were just as mouthy at that age, Tyelko. You all were."

"I was never 'mouthy,'" Maglor disputed.

"No, you were just all emo and gloom," Tyelko said. "Valar above, you were depressing as hell to be around."

"You weren't much better," Maglor said testily. "I wasn't the one who punched a hole in my bedroom wall."

"You didn't have to share a room with Moryo," Tyelko retorted. "Not all of us were lucky enough to room with Saint Maedhros. Moryo was a little shit."

Maedhros stood up. "I'm going to get some dinner." He could hear them continue to bicker as he made his way to the kitchen. Neither one would give on this topic and he wasn't in the mood to launch into a detailed discussion of what pains in the ass they both had been. And still were.

He settled in the relative quiet of the kitchen with a plateful of his mother's food and tuned out the voices down the hall.

He loved his brothers. Fiercely. Loyally. Completely. But that didn't mean they didn't irritate him fairly consistently. Annoying as they were, he had to admit it was still better than living alone. Even though Maglor and Tyelko got on each other's nerves and were fairly vocal about it, they were still good company. Most of the time. Even quarrelling brothers were better than being alone, especially out here on the lake, away from the relative bustle of downtown Formenos.

Maedhros absentmindedly washed and dried his dishes, his mind going back to those quiet moments by the river earlier in the day. It had been comfortable, sitting with Fingon, even when they weren't speaking. There was just something very soothing about him—like a cool breeze on a hot day.

Maedhros had felt the attraction when he had first locked eyes with Fingon. Even though he was sure they had never met before—there was no way he could ever forget a face like Fingon's—there was a magnetism about him yet still a comfortable familiarity as well.

It had been a long time since Maedhros had bothered to follow up on an attraction like this. Tyelko's joke about his long dry spell was far more accurate than he liked to admit. He couldn't really recall feeling anything quite like this before, so instantaneous.

It was not like he had never been in a relationship before. But nothing serious, nothing long term, nothing that had the ease of his interaction with Fingon. He could still almost feel the cool touch of Fingon's fingers interlaced with his own.

He had not expected that when he had reached out to reassure Fingon at the coffee shop. He had certainly felt the attraction and was fairly sure it was mutual but he had never expected such a swift confirmation of it.

He had surprised himself later, when he had taken Fingon's chilled hand by the river. He was not usually so demonstrative or so bold, so soon. He would need to be a bit more controlled Saturday, with Tyelko and Fingon's sister around. Even though he had been exhilarated when Fingon had referred to it as a date, he knew this was supposed to be about Tyelko and Aredhel . . . at least on the surface.

Maybe the time together Saturday would give Maedhros an indication if there was potential for another time—one that focused on the two of them instead. He certainly hoped so.


It was Friday afternoon and Fingon was finally done with classes. He had just dropped his bag on the floor by his bed when a text alert sounded from his phone. It was Turgon.

TURGON: "U going to Arry's match tomorrow?"

FINGON: "Yes. She's staying here after."

TURGON: "Why not mom and dad's?"

FINGON: "Argon interview at Eldamar for accelerated MD program. Mom and Dad going with him."

TURGON: "He'll ace it. Match at 2?"

FINGON: "Yes. Done by 4. You going to show up?"

TURGON: "Yeah. Can't hang out after. Have a DATE."

FINGON: "You? Seriously?"

TURGON: "Shut up. It's one more date than you've had this year."

FINGON: "I'm too busy to date. What's your excuse."

TURGON: "Liar."

FINGON: "Shut up."

TURGON: "C U tomorrow."

Fingon put the phone down. Technically, it was not a date. He had just invited Maedhros to the match so that Aredhel could meet his brother. Tulco? Tyelko? Whatever his name was. He and Maedhros were just going to be there to facilitate the meeting and monitor the results. That's all.

But he had referred to it as a date and Maedhros hadn't seemed to mind, he told himself. Fingon lay back on his bed and looked at the ceiling fan. He should probably figure out exactly what he was feeling before tomorrow. He didn't want another afternoon of stumbling conversation.

So was it a date? More importantly-did he want it to be a date?

He most certainly did. He couldn't recall ever feeling such an instant connection. He had dated in high school and college, nothing serious, nothing long lasting, nothing that really meant all that much to him.

It was pleasant to have a companion, someone to talk to, confide in, someone to hold, someone who could hold him; but even the sexual relationships he had previously experienced had not brought this rush of exhilaration, this feeling of such easy familiarity and, he hated to admit, this level of utter awkwardness on his part. Awkward was not a word people usually associated with him.

He was undeniably physically attracted to Maedhros but it was more than that. Despite his temporary lapses into incoherence in his presence, it wasn't actually Maedhros that made him uncomfortable—it was the intensity of his reaction to Maedhros that was throwing him off.

Fingon knew this wasn't the best time for him to be contemplating starting a relationship. But if there was any chance of a relationship with Maedhros then he really didn't give a damn about the timing, did he? Sorting out his feelings had been easier than he had expected. He wanted this.

He sat up and grabbed his phone. He should text Maedhros the details for tomorrow. Text or call? Definitely text, he decided. It was still the safer option. He quickly sent a text, detailing time and place and asking if Maedhros had any preferences for where they should go to dinner.

The reply came back moments later, along with the suggestion of a Mediterranean restaurant that Fingon was familiar with—it was just down the street from his apartment.

He made an online reservation at the restaurant and sent the confirmation link to Maedhros. Tirion could get busy on Saturday nights—best to plan ahead. He lay back and stared at his ceiling fan again. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

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