New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
thanks to Cheekybeak for reading this over! Longer chapter his time. It's a little bit racier than the last chapter.
Maedhros had never been late to work. Technically, he wasn't late to work yet but it was going to be a close thing.
Tyelko had left, to join the team in the weight room, long before he and Fingon had ventured downstairs. There was no sign of Maglor but his car was still in the garage and his bedroom door was shut-likely a continued creativity crisis..
Maedhros hadn't bothered to cook breakfast-cold cereal while leaning against the countertop with Fingon suited him just fine. It was quick and easy and gave him the time to wrap his arms around Fingon again before they had to leave.
They kissed in the kitchen, Fingon's arms circling around him, as Maedhros rinsed their dishes in the sink. They lost more time in the laundry room, Maedhros pulling Fingon's hat on for him and dragging him close, their lips tracing lines of heat on skin already warm from their coats. It seemed natural enough to kiss again once they got in the car, his hands dropping from the steering wheel before starting the Subaru, as Fingon leaned across to catch his lips one more time.
They had their longest goodbye in the Formenos train station parking lot, as Maedhros dropped Fingon off there, before heading to Beleriand. He was so tempted to just drive him home to
Tirion, anything to prolong their time together, but Maedhros was the one opening the store this morning so there was no other option. He contented himself with the thought that it would be less than twelve hours and Fingon would be back in his arms.
"It's close to ten," Fingon mumbled into his lips.
"Mmmph." Maedhros kept his lips drifting over Fingon's but opened his eyes long enough to glance at the clock on the car dashboard. 9:42. "I've got time," he mumbled back.
Fingon pulled back, his fingers still caught in Maedhros' hair, and smiled up at him, his brilliant blue eyes dizzyingly close. "I'll be back tonight, you know."
"And then you'll be at your parents the rest of the week," Maedhros said, trailing his mouth along Fingon's jawline and down his neck.
Fingon brought his lips to Maedhros' ear. "We'll be together again Saturday."
"Too many people," Maedhros breathed into his neck.
"Then we'll go to dinner. Just the two of us," Fingon answered, gently pushing Maedhros back and lightly kissing his nose. "You need to get to work. It's nine forty-eight!"
"You sure you don't want to just spend the day here instead?" Maedhros rested his forehead on Fingon's.
"I need a shower and clean clothes."
"Not a good enough reason to go. You already showered and there's loads of clothes in all kinds of sizes at the house." Maedhros bent down to bring their mouths together again, his hands finding their way under Fingon's coat and his tongue well on the way to completely distracting him again.
"You are going to be late," he exclaimed, reluctantly pulling himself back, leaning fully away from Maedhros this time and pointing at the clock.
9:52.
Maedhros grinned at him. "You're too distracting."
"Which is exactly why I am not going to work with you." Fingon said, unable to resist kissing Maedhros one last time before rapidly backing out of the car door. "I'll see you tonight, ok?" He dazzled Maedhros with one more smile and then he was gone, backpack bouncing on his shoulder as he ran for the train.
9:55.
Maedhros arrived at the store at 10:01. He let himself in, turned on the lights, got the coffee machines started, and powered up the computers.
He sat behind the counter as the computer booted up, smiling to himself. Fingon had been right-he could do this. They could do this. He had fallen asleep with Fingon there and nothing had happened.
Well, nothing bad had happened, he amended, his face heating up at the memories from this morning. They had made it through the nightmare, he had been able to fall asleep again after and he had woken up with Fingon in his arms. That in itself was cause for celebration but it had only gotten better from there.
Maedhros shook his head. He was at Beleriand, he reminded himself. Granted there were no customers and no other employees there yet, but still. He should probably try to keep his mind focused on work.
He turned his attention to the computer in front of him. Maedhros clicked the keyboard, finding the website he wanted and entering his information. He refreshed the page. The tracking was updated: the parcel had arrived at the main Tirion post office but was not marked 'out for delivery' yet. He groaned. He usually didn't mind having items shipped from overseas but he really needed this delivery today, tomorrow at the latest. He hadn't had an interest in obtaining obscure architecture books that were primarily available overseas before he met Fingon.
Not that he minded searching out obscure architecture books now, mind you. But this one was his Christmas present for Fingon. He needed it delivered.
He still wasn't sure when he was going to give it to him, what with both of them spending the holiday with their families. Likely after, so maybe he didn't need to stress so much about when it would arrive. But he would like to have it in his possession, just in case.
It wasn't a big deal of a present-just something he thought Fingon would like. He didn't expect anything from Fingon, although he realized they were unquestioningly past the point of friendship and well into relationship status. They may not have said it in so many words yet but it was certainly evident in their actions-especially this morning's activities.
His face flushed as he recalled it. He had not been completely surprised at how things had progressed; he and Fingon had been slowly moving towards such intimacy for days now. Sharing a bed was an act of intimacy in and of itself.
What surprised him was how comfortable he felt with it. Trust had been a difficult subject for him, these last four years. He trusted his parents, his brothers, Azaghâl. They knew and he had nothing to explain to them. But until now there had been no one outside that small circle. He hadn't trusted anyone else.
It was not that he didn't want someone. He craved closeness, physical contact, companionship. But that came with the added weight of trust and openness and that was something he had not been willing to cede. Until now.
He had kept most interactions to casual acquaintances; it was just easier that way. Of course he had friends from college and grad school. Good friends. Good people. They knew him well, just not completely. For that he had his family and Azaghal-they were all the support he needed.
Physical release, whether on his own or with a partner, had been intermittent but perfunctory-a necessity to assuage the urge but lacking in anything more than that. Casual, short-lived and superficial had worked best-not for the deeply buried need for companionship and love he longed for, but doubted he would ever find-but enough to satisfy the short term urges.
Until now. He had definitely felt desire for Fingon-on many occasions, in fact-but the realization that this truly had potential to be more than casual had held him back.
Not anymore though. He had already opened up to Fingon more than he had to anyone outside his circle. The progression to intimacy of a physical nature felt right-he had already let Fingon be with him in a far more vulnerable situation and he had experienced only support, understanding and love.
"Are you ok?" Maglor was standing across the counter in front of him, looking at him curiously. Maedhros hadn't even heard him come in. "You've got the goofiest expression."
"What?" Maedhros straightened up quickly, his face reddening again.
"You were just staring off into space with this dreamy grin on your face." Maglor leaned in closer and dropped his voice. "Seriously, Maedhros. You need to get some sleep. I can man the store if you want to go back home and take a nap."
"I don't need a nap. I'm fine," Maedhros said, turning his attention to the computer again.
Maglor crossed his arms, leaned on the countertop and just looked at him.
"Stop that," Maedhros said irritably. "I told you I'm fine."
"I'm not doing anything."
"Not anything useful. I don't remember hiring you to just stand around staring at me. I'm sure you have something more important to do?" Maedhros continued.
"What's more important than keeping an eye on my older brother? If I didn't know you better I'd say you looked like you finally got laid."
It really was unfortunate that he blushed this easily, Maedhros thought for probably the thousandth time, as he glared at his younger brother.
"Ah. Looks like I was more accurate in my assumptions than I thought," Maglor leaned in more, a probing look on his face now. "Maedhros?"
"It's none of your business, you know."
"Right. But I can correctly assume you've been finding other activities to keep you occupied, since you're not sleeping?"
"You sound like Tyelko."
"No, if I was Tyelko I'd be asking if there were bare asses involved. I'm far more refined than Tyelko."
"You do realize we are at work, right?" Maedhros whispered.
"I'd forgotten your face could turn that shade," Maglor said thoughtfully. "It's not your best look."
"I'm beginning to think having you work here was not one of my better ideas."
"Ingrate. Your music department would suck without me. Who in their right mind would want to buy that much 80's alternative?" Maglor was grinning now. He tilted his head to the side, a fond look on his face as he smiled at his older brother. "I don't know what you two were doing but I do know that whatever it is, it's making you happier than I've seen you in years. That's reason enough for me to be grateful to Fingon, for coming into your life and into your bed. And in other ways as well, it seems." He winked and walked back to the music section, leaving Maedhros to drop his heated face in his hands and wonder why he thought having his brothers as roommates had ever been a good idea.
The morning mail delivery came and went with no packages. Maedhros uselessly refreshed the tracking page but the delivery status remained unchanged. What if Fingon had bought him something? And he had nothing to give him in return, now that this blasted book wasn't arriving in a timely fashion?
It was Thursday now. Christmas was on Wednesday. Surely the book would arrive before then, if it was already in Tirion? It should not take more than a day to make it to the Formenos post, even with the increased holiday business. It should definitely arrive tomorrow.
But he wouldn't be in Formenos after today. Other than Sunday, that is. But there would be no mail deliveries on Sunday. If the blasted thing didn't arrive by Saturday he'd have to make another trip back next week to retrieve it. Maybe he should have had it sent to his parents' home.
This was stupid. There was nothing he could do about it. It would arrive whenever the post chose to deliver it.
Maedhros looked at his watch. Maybe Maglor would cover the desk for a bit so he could scour some of the stores in town, to find at least something for Fingon. A token, if nothing more. He refused to be caught empty handed, on the off-chance Fingon had gotten him a Christmas gift. He could always give him the book later, explaining about the vagaries of international shipping.
He wandered over to the music section in search of his brother, finding him inventorying the latest vinyl acquisitions on the computer and sticking price-tags on the stack of albums in front of him.
"Hey," Maedhros said, leaning on the rack next to Maglor.
"This was a good haul," Maglor said. "Where did you find all these?"
"Retired music prof from the university. Downsizing to a condo. He'd already transferred all of these to digital files so he was getting rid of almost everything," Maedhros replied. "I knew they would be in good condition, coming from someone like him."
"Like new." Maglor looked up at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Enough about the albums. What's up? You've got that concerned look."
"I do not."
"You do too. Trust me, I've seen it enough. You get this weird crease between your eyebrows." Maglor attempted to demonstrate, drawing his eyebrows together but it looked more like a scowl than concern to Maedhros.
He rolled his eyes at his younger brother. "Can you cover the desk for a bit? So I can go out?"
"I thought Fingon went to Tirion for the day."
"He did. I just need to get some things done downtown, before we head to Mom and Dad's tomorrow, ok?" Maedhros said. "An hour at the most."
"Yeah, no problem. Not like I have anywhere else to go. You want to grab me something to eat, while you're out? I forgot to bring anything," Maglor said.
Maedhros nodded. "I'll get something from Himring. I forgot to bring lunch too."
"You were probably pretty distracted," Maglor grinned.
"Don't start that again," Maedhros warned.
Maglor put his hands up and shook his head. "I'm not starting anything. Just stating the facts. I told you-I'm grateful to Fingon. I've said it before-I think he's good for you." Maglor paused, his face more serious. "I really do like him. You deserve someone like that. It's about damn time, Maedhros."
The crease disappeared from Maedhros' forehead and a gentle smile came over his face at Maglor's words. "Thanks."
He found it in the third shop. It made him laugh and that was enough to convince him to buy it. It was nothing really, just a winter hat, but it struck Maedhros as just the right thing when he saw it.
Tyelko was the last one in the locker room. He took one more quick look around and then grabbed his gym bag, digging his phone out of the side pocket. There were a few emails from the coach, some Athletic Department schedules, and a text from Aredhel. He swung his bag over his shoulder and headed to the lounge, dropping into one of the comfortable chairs to text her back.
TYELKO: We still on for Saturday at Thargelion?
AREDHEL: Yes! I told my parents not to expect us around that morning. Can't wait! Turgon and Argon are in. I'm sure Fingon is too. ;-)
TYELKO: Yeah, no doubt. I've got a game tonight. I'm in Tirion tomorrow. You free for dinner or a movie or something? I want to see you again.
AREDHEL: I want to see you too. Saturday better-Mom will want us all here tomorrow night, I'm sure. First night everyone's home.
TYELKO: Shit. You're right. I'm sure my mom will want us all around tomorrow night for dinner too. Not like we don't see each other all the time, but whatever. Holidays. Mom always gets all sentimental.
AREDHEL: Mine too. She gets all camera happy when we're all together too.
TYELKO: Ugh. Same.
AREDHEL: I'll talk to you tomorrow. Tell me what time for Saturday, ok?
TYELKO: Will do. Miss you.
AREDHEL: Miss you too.
Tyelko slipped his phone back in his pocket. He had a month before Aredhel was back at school. He fully intended to spend as much time as possible with her, while she was home.
Maedhros was occupied with Fingon and work, Maglor with his compositions and job search. He hadn't really had a chance to talk to either of them alone recently. Home this week was going to be chaos, like usual. It was unlikely he would find any time to have a one-on-one conversation with any of his brothers, let alone have much time to himself.
Not that he needed to have a one-on-one with any of them, he told himself, although he knew that wasn't really true. Maedhros always took the time to listen but Tyelko didn't really want to bother him-he was dealing with enough on his own right now.
Things were good for Maedhros finally. For all his teasing, Tyelko really was happy for his oldest brother. He had been through shit for long enough. He deserved some good times. And from what he'd seen, Maedhros was definitely having some good times.
Fingon was a decent guy. A really decent guy. Tyelko was usually pretty open-minded about people but he wasn't naive. He'd seemed too good to be true at first but Fingon had proven himself to Tyelko. He'd made so much progress with Mae, more than anyone had in years, and it was obvious how much he cared for him. Damn, he hoped Mae didn't fuck it up somehow, but he wasn't as worried about that as he had been a few weeks ago. Maedhros wasn't behaving like he usually did with someone new and that was a big deal in and of itself.
Maglor was surprisingly good with advice, despite being an absolute dumbass when it came to his own relationships. It was almost as if he were blind to his own actions while being completely on target when observing others. It really was too bad. That last girl had messed with his brother's head.
It's not like he needed advice. Things were going fine with Aredhel. A hell of a lot better than fine.
He'd never dated someone so easy to read. At times, it was almost unnerving. He usually said the wrong thing, or took a joke too far, or wasn't sensitive enough about something but it wasn't like that with Aredhel. She matched him-joke for joke, innuendo for innuendo, touch for touch. He'd been the one holding back this time, restraining himself. This wasn't casual. He wasn't going to treat it like it was.
And that was the reason why he wanted to talk to one of his older brothers. He had never felt quite like this before. He'd take anyone up on a good time, no questions asked. But not this time. He wanted to go slow, savor every kiss, every touch, every . . . seriously what the hell was wrong with him?! He sounded like one of Maglor's fucking emo songs. What the hell?
Timing and location had been on his side so far. There really hadn't been anywhere to be private with Aredhel, except the time she stayed over in Formenos and fortunately Fingon had ended up stranded there that night too. That had totally put a damper on any amorous escapades. He had no interest in getting Fingon riled up about his little sister.
But with a whole month ahead of him that might change. He grimaced. Shit. He sounded just like Maedhros had a few weeks ago except he didn't have as good a reason. What was with him? Normally he would be finding ways to get Aredhel alone at the Formenos house during the day, while his brothers were out.
Great. This was it then. He'd thought he'd been in love with some of those other girls before but obviously he'd been wrong. That was infatuation, generalized horniness, the haze of desire.
This was something else completely. A cold shiver went through him. It may be for him but was it anything like that for her? She was still in school, three years younger than him, still having fun with everything and everyone, certainly not interested in anything more serious, right?
Maybe she'd said something to Fingon. Maybe he really did need to find a minute to get Maedhros alone this week and talk to him. Shit. He was in way deeper than he had thought.
Fingon heard his phone ping as he sat on the train, nearing the Formenos station. He could see the snow falling outside even the though the sun had already set, the snowflakes huge and sticking to the window intermittently.
MAEDHROS: I'm at the station. Look for my car.
FINGON: not having dinner in town?
MAEDHROS: Yes dinner in town. Snow coming down pretty hard-didn't want you to have to walk. It's cold.
Fingon smiled as he looked at the message on his phone. Maedhros was so conscientious about Fingon not getting cold. Another message came in as he was still staring at his screen.
MAEDHROS: Italian place right outside of town tonight for dinner. Thought you'd gone long enough without pasta.
Fingon laughed outright this time, as he slipped his phone in his pocket and grabbed his backpack to make his way to the train platform.
It had been less than twelve hours since they had last been together but Fingon couldn't wait to see Maedhros again. He smiled at the thought but then it faded as he realized it would be their last night together for almost a week.
He'd gotten quite used to this. Of course, they would see each other Saturday at the park and dinner; he was sure they would find some time to get together again in Tirion before the holiday, even if it was only for a cup of coffee. But it wouldn't be the same. They had spent almost every night this past week together. They had survived one of Maedhros' nightmares unscathed. They had taken their relationship one step further this morning. Another step in the right direction, not too fast, but definitely further than before.
He wanted to see Maedhros like that again-completely relaxed, aroused, all his attention focused solely on him.
The cars in the parking lot looked the same in the dark but he spotted Maedhros, leaning against his car, unconcerned at the snow falling all around him. Maybe he should have gotten him a hat instead of that t-shirt, Fingon thought as he walked over to him.
Or not, he decided, as he regarded Maedhros when he reached him. The streetlight highlighted his hair, the snowflakes clinging to it. He'd been wearing it down almost all the time now, knowing Fingon liked it that way. No, Maedhros was just fine without a hat, with that fiery hair cascading down, sprinkled with snowflakes and that look in his eyes.
He found himself in Maedhros' embrace, warm arms around him and Maedhros' soft lips touching his own, heating him up despite the blast of wind that swept across them both. He leaned into him, thinking again how well they fit together like this, his arms sliding around Maedhros' waist, pulling him just a little bit closer.
"Hi," Maedhros said, a few moments later, his breath ghosting in the air.
"Hi," Fingon replied, looking up into those silver eyes, the wind forgotten. He tightened his grip around him and tucked his head under Maedhros' chin. This was where he wanted to be.
He felt Maedhros' lips brush his hair, his breath warm. "There are warmer places we could go, you know," Maedhros said. "Nicer places than a parking lot too."
Fingon laughed, burying his face in Maedhros' coat. "I'm fine anywhere you are, honestly," he mumbled into the fabric.
Maedhros squeezed him one more time and then stepped back, opening the car door. "Come on, get in. I'll get the fire going when we get home and we can take up where we left off."
"Who's going to walk in on us tonight, you think?" Fingon asked, as he buckled his seat belt and looked over at Maedhros. "Maglor or Tyelko? My money's on Tyelko again."
"You'd be wrong. He's got a game tonight," Maedhros replied. "We've had enough people walking in on us, don't you think?" He smiled over at Fingon. "Might just need to go to bed before they get home this time." His face broke into a grin as he reached out for Fingon's hand and squeezed it once. "I'll need both hands on the wheel with this snow and these roads," he said, reluctantly pulling it away again to start driving.
The restaurant was just on the edge of town, on the road that led to the lake house. Small, warm, not very crowded for a Thursday night. As usual, they chose a booth and sat near the back.
"I thought you might be having some pasta withdrawal," Maedhros said, as he perused the menu, an amused expression on his face.
"Very funny. Pasta is not all I eat, you know. It's just all I know how to cook," Fingon replied, then got a thoughtful look. "Well, I guess ramen counts as pasta too, doesn't it, being noodles?" He sighed. "Maybe I do eat a lot of pasta."
Maedhros reached his hand across the table and laced his fingers with Fingon's. "I'm just teasing."
"I know," Fingon looked at him fondly. "Since you're the expert cook, maybe you can give me some lessons in non-pasta cooking."
"I'm not an expert," Maedhros countered.
"You can cook venison. And lava cake," Fingon stated. "Which makes you an expert to me." He leaned forward. "I would gladly find the time to mess around in the kitchen with you."
"I could take that to mean a number of things," Maedhros replied, his eyes sparkling mischievously at Fingon.
Fingon met his gaze with a smouldering intensity. "Take it any way you like." Maedhros laughed. It wasn't a sound Fingon had heard often enough, he decided.
Dinner passed quickly and they were soon on the road to the house.
"Aredhel texted me about Saturday. We're still on for this mysterious game of yours, then?" Fingon said.
"Nothing mysterious about it. Just fun," Maedhros replied. "I think Tyelko's got it squared away with the others. Thargelion Park but I'm not sure of the time."
"Then dinner, just the two of us, right?" Fingon asked.
"Yes, I'd like that," Maedhros said, glancing at him as he spoke. Fingon was leaning against the car door, a radiant smile on his face as he looked back at him. Maedhros dragged his eyes back to the road.
It was probably time to tell him, Maedhros thought. Not just that he loved him but the whole story. He deserved his honesty and Maedhros was for once confident that opening up wouldn't result in loss. Fingon would be as steadfast as he had proved to be all those other times. He wouldn't make Maedhros feel naive or idiotic for letting himself get in that situation in the first place-he was sure of that now.
"What are you thinking about?" Fingon asked.
"What? Oh, nothing really," Maedhros stalled. "Why do you ask?"
"You just had a look," Fingon said thoughtfully, his eyes on Maedhros. "Like you wanted to say something."
"Oh."
"Did you?"
"Did I what?"
"Want to say something?" Fingon said.
This was not the time or place for confessions of that kind. What he had to say was better suited to sitting in front of a warm fire, or curled around each other in his soft bed. But he could feel Fingon's eyes on him and that fond expression was still there, along with something else, something more than fond. He had to say something, he decided.
"Yes, I suppose I do," Maedhros said slowly, as he turned into the long driveway leading to the house. He swallowed and darted a sidelong look at Fingon again. "I just wanted to tell you-you were right."
"About what?"
"About this," Maedhros gestured vaguely with his right hand. "About us. About being able to do this and have it be ok." He took a breath. He could admit this now. It was easier than the other things he wanted to say. "I agreed to try it. I didn't really think it would work but I wanted to try, for you. Because you believed it could." He kept his eyes on the road. "I've never been so gratified to be wrong," he finished, giving Fingon another sidelong look.
Fingon reached over and rested his hand on Maedhros' thigh. "Thank you for trusting me and trusting this," he said quietly. Maedhros took his right hand off the steering wheel and grasped Fingon's hand. The garage was just ahead. He intertwined their fingers and squeezed once. He knew he didn't need to say more than that.
Maglor's car was in the garage. Maedhros and Fingon made their way into the house, hand in hand, as they walked through the kitchen into the family room. Maglor was on one of the sofas, music playing from the speakers, his notebook in his hand. He looked up as he heard them come in.
"Hey," Maglor greeted them. He actually looked pleased to see them, Maedhros noticed.
"This yours?" Maedhros asked about the music, nodding in the direction of the nearest speaker.
Maglor nodded. "Yeah, but I can turn it off, now that you're home. I'll work on it upstairs."
"No, I'd like to hear it," Maedhros assured him, squeezing Fingon's hand in a silent question.
"Yes, I would too," Fingon added, squeezing back in response.
"Really? It's still pretty rough," Maglor said, but his face lit up as they sat on the sofa across from him.
Maedhros positioned himself at the far end of the sofa, Fingon next to him, their fingers still interlaced between them. He looked at Maglor expectantly. "Start it from the beginning," he instructed his brother.
So Maglor did. It was a complicated piece, the piano having the most prominent part but with violins coming in and out of the composition. No vocals, Maglor explained-that was the part he was still working on. He warmed to his subject, his words coming at a quicker pace as he explained the melody patterns to them.
It was a longer composition than Maedhros expected. "This isn't one of your pieces for Avallonë, is it?" he asked.
Maglor shook his head. "No, this is one I'm hoping to use for my independent study next semester. I need to have a few compositions ready for the spring recital. I still have to decide if I want to play the piano part or sing the vocals. It would be too challenging to do both." He sighed. "Of course there aren't any vocals written out yet."
"Do you need vocals?" Fingon asked.
Maglor tilted his head. "I had envisioned it that way. A three part piece-the piano and vocals making up the bulk of the melody with the violins providing harmony and a second melodic component." He looked at Fingon questioningly. "Why do you ask?"
"It's just lovely the way it is. I'm sure vocals will just add to it but it doesn't sound like it's missing anything at all," Fingon replied, sliding closer to Maedhros as he spoke and leaning back to rest on his chest, Maedhros' arms coming around him.
Maglor frowned in thought. "I can certainly consider leaving the vocals out. It would make it easier for me to perform." He leaned back onto the sofa. "I do need to have at least one composition with vocal elements, though." He started the music from the beginning, narrowing his eyes as he listened.
Maedhros hand gently rubbed Fingon's back. The heat of the fire nearby washed over him as he lay in Maedhros' arms. The combination of that, the gentle music playing, and the pasta he had consumed earlier, was making him sleepy. He burrowed his head further into Maedhros' shoulder. He loved these moments in Maedhros' embrace, content and comfortable.
Maedhros looked down at the relaxed body resting against his chest. Fingon looked like he was about to drift off. Not the night to have long conversations or drop a declaration of love on him. Better to save that until after the holidays, when they would have more time together again. Maedhros rested his cheek on Fingon's head for a moment and then spoke softly to him. "You ready to call it a night?"
"Hmm." Fingon murmured unintelligibly into his shirt.
"I'll take that as a yes," Maedhros replied. He looked over at Maglor. "We ate at Taras' tonight," he explained.
"Carb coma," Maglor said knowingly, nodding at Fingon.
"Pretty much," Maedhros answered. He nudged Fingon who then sat up and blearily blinked at Maglor.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to drift off like that."
"No worries," Maglor said. "Just don't tell me if it was the music, ok? Let me keep thinking it's because of the food and Maedhros keeping you up all night." He grinned at Fingon, who sat up looking much more alert at that comment, as if he were about to respond. Maglor put a hand up warningly. "But don't tell me what he's doing to keep you up all night, ok? I don't need to hear about that." He was amused to see Fingon blush almost as much as Maedhros had earlier in the day.
"And on that note, I think we'll head up for the night." Maedhros stood up, pulling Fingon up into a standing position and letting him lean against him as he spoke to his brother. "I'll take Fingon to the station in the morning and check in with Erestor at the store but we can head to Tirion after that. We taking all three cars to Mom and Dad's?"
Maglor considered that. "I'd like to be able to get away from the house, you know? If the need or mood arises. You've got to come back Sunday, don't you?"
Maedhros nodded, his hand still absently rubbing circles on Fingon's back as he leaned against him, Fingon's arms around his waist. Maglor had noticed how much more at ease they were with each physically over the past few days. It was even more obvious tonight. "I told Erestor I'd come in Sunday. Just splitting the holiday week that way. Then we'll all take our cars. I'm sure Tyelko wants to have his, in case he and Aredhel have plans," Maedhros said.
Maglor considered his brother and then made the offer. "I can work on Sunday for you, you know. I don't mind. I've got nothing else going on and I'm sure I'll be ready for a break by then."
"You don't have to do that. It's your vacation time too."
"Well, just think about it. Really, I don't mind. Just let me know," Maglor repeated.
"Thanks, Maglor." Maedhros walked behind the other sofa, pausing to ruffle his brother's hair affectionately before leaving the room with Fingon.
A few moments later they found themselves in Maedhros' bed, Fingon curled up in the middle as Maedhros switched off the light. He slid under the covers and moved closer to Fingon, who immediately pressed himself against Maedhros with a contented sigh.
Maedhros kissed his forehead and slipped an arm around him, momentarily surprised to feel Fingon's bare skin. He must have been too tired to bother with pajamas. "Good night," he whispered into Fingon's hair. He closed his eyes, reveling in the heat of Fingon's body next to his. He wasn't expecting to feel warm breath on his neck and the touch of Fingon's lips traveling up his jawline. "I thought you were almost asleep," he said.
"Not that sleepy," Fingon answered, somehow moving even closer, his hand sliding under Maedhros' shirt to tantalizingly trail his fingertips across his chest. Maedhros shivered at the touch. Fingon's lips found his and he slid his tongue across them as Maedhros opened to him, a small sound escaping him at the contact.
He tugged at Maedhros' shirt, as he had the night before, and Maedhros stripped it off, tossing it to the side before turning his attention back to Fingon. He traced a finger down his jawline, down his neck, fingertips gently brushing down his chest.
They were laying on their sides facing each other. It was too dark to see anything clearly but Maedhros could just make out the dim outline of Fingon's face and shoulder. His hands drifted lower, feeling the taut muscles of Fingon's abdomen, his hipbones, making him shiver in turn at his touch. Maedhros could feel his arousal pressed against his thigh and his hands traveled further down.
It seemed Fingon had dispensed with pajama pants as well, as all he encountered was smooth skin as his touch drifted lower. Fingon moaned against his mouth as Maedhros skimmed by his groin. Maedhros turned his full attention to Fingon's neck, then moved his lips down his chest to slowly press heated kisses along his skin.
Fingon's hands slid down to the waistband of Maedhros' pajamas, gently circling his waist and tugging at the fabric before whispering "Maedhros?" in a questioning tone of voice.
Maedhros murmured a quiet "Your turn tonight," before continuing to slide down Fingon's body, coming to rest between his legs before pausing to look up, Fingon's fingers now threaded through his hair. "If you want me to, that is."
"I want you," Fingon whispered back, his fingers gently stroking strands of hair off Maedhros' face.
Fingon could feel the heat of Maedhros' mouth on his lower abdomen, the slick swipe of his tongue tracing a path further down. "Finno," Maedhros breathed, as he felt him tremble beneath his hands.
It was silent, other than their breathing and the soft sounds Maedhros was drawing out of Fingon, his hands tightening their grip on his hair until he gasped out a quiet "Maitimo!" before shuddering once, twice, and then falling bonelessly back against the bed, his breathing uneven now.
Maedhros moved up to rest his head against Fingon's chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under him, Fingon's fingers gently and slowly stroking through his hair. He had not expected to hear a nickname from him. He wondered where that had come from. Maedhros' lips moved silently and he breathed into the warm skin he touched.
Fingon murmured something he couldn't quite hear, the beat of his heart drowning out all other sounds. He could feel Fingon's hands slowly still as his breathing evened out and he fell asleep, the tiny snores that signaled it following soon after.
"I love you, Finno," he whispered into the darkness, curling his arms around Fingon's sleeping form.
Linguistics note: the suffix -timo is a superlative. My assumption is that Fingon has looked through some of Finrod's books or had some late night discussions on word origins with his roommate, hence the nickname. ;)