let me take your hand, I'll make it right by atlantablack  

Hold on, I still want you
Come back, I still need you
Let me take your hand, I'll make it right
I swear to love you all my life
Hold on, I still need you

Hold On | Chord Overstreet

☀︎

Loop 10

Curufin wakes up alone and makes the decision to allow the day to play out as it had originally. He has no grand plans, no leads, no deepening suspicions. He simply needs a day to breathe, to reset, and then he will find a new point to dig his fingers into. 

He moves through conversations and encounters on autopilot as he methodically strips each song apart in his mind, trying to figure out what it is he’s missing. He has long come to the sour conclusion that it must be something to do with the Silmarils, with Finrod planning to follow Beren into danger, with the words he and his brother spoke. Given into consideration how short a day is, this should be a solid enough starting point for him to find the issue. 

Somehow, it still is not. 

He gives his speech to the people of Nargothrond and does not look away from Finrod the entire time. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Celegorm throw him a strange look and knows the conviction is lacking in his voice. It is rather hard to summon the fire needed when he knows the day does not matter.

He does consider not going to Finrod's room that night, but there is an itch beneath his skin that urges him to go. Is there not always an itch beneath his skin that cannot be soothed? A seemingly constant wish to see Finrod, even if none of it will matter. He still does not know what he will have to do to break whatever thrice-forsaken curse this is, but he wishes for a moment of comfort before he must begin the day anew. 

He does not know when Finrod’s name began to equate itself with comfort, perhaps long before the constant singing and unsinging began, but he is loath to deprive himself of it now. 

Finrod looks up when he walks in, already frowning, but Curufin does not give him even a moment to speak before he has crossed the room and pulled Finrod into his arms. He buries his face in Finrod's hair and lets himself just breathe. Finrod hugs him back after a moment of hesitation; he does not say anything, only presses his mouth to Curufin's throat as they stand there swaying slightly.

"What has gotten into you?" Finrod asks quietly some time later. He had stayed quiet longer than Curufin had expected him to.

Curufin breathes out slowly and, instead of answering, pulls Finrod into a kiss. He half-expects Finrod to pull away, but he kisses back, humming quietly in pleasure. It should not be so calming to have Finrod pressed so close. It is the calmest he has felt all day. 

"Is this what regret looks like on you then?" Finrod asks, pulling back to study his face.

"I do not regret it," he says, and that is true. He had not regretted it when he had first spoken the words, and he does not regret it now. He only regrets that it has triggered some strange curse. "I meant every word."

Finrod frowns, still studying him with a strange expression. He does not say anything else though, only pulls himself from Curufin's arms and returns to packing. Curufin bites down on the urge to grab him again and instead undresses, making himself comfortable in Finrod's bed. It is terribly presumptuous of him, but he already knows Finrod will not turn him away. Sure enough, Finrod glances at him and raises an incredulous eyebrow but says nothing.

Finrod makes a noise of sheer confusion when he climbs into the bed, and Curufin only pulls him in close, tangling their legs together and settling Finrod's head on his chest. He has fucked Finrod well the last two days and feels no burning need to do so this time.

"You are going to die if you follow that man," he says quietly into Finrod's hair. He has known this from the beginning, but it still sits in his stomach and curdles. He does not want Finrod dead and would not have interfered had it been for any lesser item. But the Silmarils, he cannot allow that to stand no matter how much he wants Finrod to live.

Finrod is quiet for a long while, fingers tracing random patterns across Curufin's chest. "I know how this ends," Finrod says softly, "better than anyone. It will not stop me from honoring my oath.”

“You’re a damn fool,” he snaps, tightening his grip when Finrod shifts as if he will pull away. “Just…just go to sleep, Ingoldo.” 

There’s a beat of strained silence before Finrod huffs and relaxes in his arms once more. “Are you staying? That is strange of you.” 

He tilts Finrod’s chin up briefly to kiss him and says again, softer, “Go to sleep.”

Finrod stares at him, eyes very dark, mouth parted and begging to be kissed again. “You are acting strange,” Finrod says slowly. “Are you planning on killing me in my sleep so that I cannot aid Beren?” It is said in a joking tone but Finrod’s eyes are still too serious for it to be a true joke. 

"I am not going to kill you." He rolls his eyes at the idea. "If I were going to kill you, I would simply do it. I would not bother with a facade." He kisses Finrod again when the serious expression does not lighten. Twists them and presses Finrod down into the bed, kissing him hard and deep until he's gone completely boneless beneath Curufin. He has the brief, mad thought that perhaps if he is still kissing Finrod when the next day begins, then maybe that will be enough to stop the constant unsinging. 

By the gods he wishes it were that fucking simple. 

“Go to sleep,” he says once more against Finrod’s mouth, tangling them together and burying his face in Finrod’s hair. 

Finrod sighs and kisses his shoulder, falling asleep relatively quickly for all his worrying. Curufin holds him tight and tries to stay awake; he does not want to wake alone in his own bed. He listens to Finrod’s breathing and hopes and hopes and hopes. 

He still wakes up alone. 

☀︎

Chapter End Notes

I'm also on Tumblr! 

Leave a Comment