Absinthe-minded by Sleepless_Malice

---

Chapter 2

---

*

Their way back home through Tirion’s deserted streets was not exactly long but to Maedhros it seemed as if they weren’t making any progress at all. Little wonder with Maglor clinging to him as the drunkard he was and more than once, Maedhros was grateful that they didn’t meet anyone along the way.

At one point Maglor complained about having forgotten to pick up the robe he had initially worn, pleading with Maedhros to go back to the garden again to retrieve it.

‘No,’ Maedhros had told him.

They definitely would not.

Getting this far, which actually wasn’t far at all, had taken almost an hour. Maedhros had even offered to retrieve it the next day himself because judging from his brother’s miserable state right then, Maglor would be unfit to go anywhere at all tomorrow.

As if on purpose Maglor slowed down more and more the closer they got to their home. Maedhros was not quite certain of it, but he had a strong suspicion.

Or was it rather his own fault?

Despite not feeling exactly drunk, Maedhros’s legs had grown strangely heavy and weak with every step he took, adding to the burden of basically carrying Maglor’s weight almost by himself because Maglor was not cooperating – at all.

Guiding Maglor’s hand back around his waist, Maedhros muttered under his breath, “That green drink ... I don’t believe you that it was only alcohol,” and was surprised when Maglor actually answered him.

“Damn you, it was. It is called Absinthe and is quite popular these days among my friends. It is potent, I give you that, but it’s no drug –” Then, Maglor paused as if his mind was searching for some useful information in Maedhros’s face. To be looked at like this made Maedhros quite uncomfortable but he didn’t say anything.

“What did you eat?” Maglor asked all of sudden.

Quite startled, Maedhros blinked. “ Eat? ”

Maglor’s voice was unsteady when he inquired with several interruptions, “Yes. Did you eat anything?”

Maedhros didn’t comprehend the sudden alarm in his brother’s eyes, “Of course I ate. A few of those chocolate cookies. They were quite good, actually.”

At that Maglor burst out laughing and Maedhros was afraid that half of Tirion would wake from his bell-like laughter. It took Maglor a good while to find his voice back. “Chocolate cookies? Oh dearest brother,” he said before a fit of giggles overwhelmed him. “You’re greener behind your ears than I have ever thought. What you mistook for chocolate was in fact dried gum from the weed that so readily was smoked that night.”

A pause; a smile, then Maglor smiled at Maedhros. “It’s odd though, usually it is quite relaxing but you are still so – tense.”

Tense. There the accursed word was yet again, making him tense all the more.

Maedhros shot him a sidelong glance.

“I might be of help?” Although Maglor tried to sound humorous, he didn’t manage it, Maedhros thought. He rather sounded like a drunken, love-sick idiot and perhaps his brother was? Because just a second later, actions followed the words as Maglor apparently thought it a good idea to let his arm slip off Maedhros’ waist, placing it deliberately on Maedhros’ buttocks, kneading them.

“Káno stop that.” Maedhros wished for his voice to sound stronger and fiercer, which it absolutely did not. Nevertheless, Maglor stopped with a short mutter of protest, before he lost himself in a incomprehensible fit of giggles.

Just how much Maedhros wished to be home already – or perhaps not, because with Maglor still giggling like this he would alarm the entire household. Coming home drunk was one thing, coming home like that a different matter entirely and their father’s reaction wasn’t even what bothered Maedhros most, not that he did anticipate the scolding though. The worst would be Curufin with his incredible light sleep and before his inner eye Maedhros saw Curufin peeking through the open door, smirking.

Maedhros spun Maglor around, placing both of his hands on each of Maglor’s shoulder. “Listen!” Maedhros said, trying to sound authoritative when he knew he was not. “It’s not far from home now and I would highly appreciate it if you could for once keep your mouth shut. I have no desire to be seen like this by anyone, and neither do you, I take it?”

“Nah,” Maglor weakly muttered, trying to slip a hand beneath the robe on Maedhros’ collar.

Maedhros rolled his eyes. “Good. And stop groping me, by Manwë’s balls.”

Maglor indeed stopped. “You know .. swearing, you sound incredible attractive.”

To that Maedhros didn’t say anything at all.

 

*

Much to Maedhros’ surprise they indeed managed to sneak back into the house without raising immediate alarm. Maglor still clung to him, pressing against his side but at least the giggles had ceased. As they passed Maedhros’ own room, he felt Maglor trying to turn around as if he was about to enter it. “That is not your room.”

Maglor shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Maedhros did not respond. Instead, he continued to march his swaying brother down the corridor towards the next room, which actually was Maglor’s own.

Thankfully, the door was unlocked, a fact that surprised Maedhros. He would never leave the house with his door unlocked but then, thinking further on it he had to admit that the twins were hardly as interested in Maglor’s belongings as they were in Maedhros’ own.

Once inside a chaotic mess greeted Maedhros’ eye. Clothes lay everywhere – on the bed, the floor, even the two armchairs were occupied with glittering tunics that Maedhros had never seen before. Before Maedhros could say anything about the chaos, Maglor wrestled free of his hold and began undressing, throwing the tunic on a nearby pile of clothes. Maedhros was glad that it stopped right there and the grey breeches remained untouched.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with Maglor wearing nothing at all, not today, recalling the inappropriate remarks earlier.

Then, only clad in breeches, Maglor fell down in one of the arm chairs in such a dramatic manner with his legs dangling over the armrest that Maedhros groaned. On the small table between the two identical chairs stood several bottles of alcohol, whiskey, wine and cider, together with clean and dirty glasses alike, Maedhros observed, partly to force his gaze away from Maglor’s bare chest.

Maglor’s arm reached out to the whiskey bottle.

Maedhros shook his head. “Don’t you think you have had enough already?”

Maglor looked at him unfazed, filling the glass to the brim. “Hardly. Want some, too?”

“No.” Maedhros was about to say something more but then did not.

Maglor rolled the glass in his hand before he took a large sip, looking intensely at Maedhros in a way that was so openly obscene and offensive, a silent challenge, that it robbed Maedhros off his breath. There was only the faintest hint of red across Maglor’s cheekbones, and Maedhros wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been staring .

Maedhros knew that by all means he should bid his brother a good night and leave. He always could return tomorrow to hold the conversation that truly was necessary between them and then, perhaps, Maglor would actually listen to him. Tonight, he would achieve exactly nothing, no matter how patiently he tried. Maglor was completely out of his mind, though Maedhros still thought his brother could at least make an effort to behave. From personal experience with being drunk Maedhros new such a thing was possible.

He should leave.

He should leave Maglor to his own intoxicated misery but Maedhros found he could not.

Beneath the feelings of confusion Maglor’s words and touches had provoked, worry began to bubble.

Maedhros did not leave.

What if harm came to him because I left him alone?

It was ridiculous, Maedhros knew. After all, it was not the first time Maglor had come home like this and it would certainly be not the last time. But then, Maglor was not someone who asked for help until it became absolutely necessary.

What if …?

Maedhros would never forgive himself. Even then, he felt the nightmares crawl into his mind whilst all the while Maglor watched him. Smiling, whispering despite not speaking with his fingers idly playing with a strand of dark hair as if it wasn’t his own brother he was looking at.

Despite knowing it was fruitless effort Maedhros walked over towards Maglor sat, standing before him, arms crossed and for once he wished the small table wasn’t made of glass so that he could slam his fist onto it. “What were you thinking to smoke away the night like this? The filthy suggestions? The nudes, the touches, the inappropriate remarks?”

Confronted directly, Maglor blanched, his hands clenching around the glass. His eyes narrowed a little but apart from that he betrayed no emotion. His face smoothed into a mask of indifference as Maedhros observed, though it seemed as if he was about to say something. Maedhros waited but Maglor didn’t say anything at all.

Instead, Maglor rose from the chair with the glass still in hand keeping a distance of two steps between them for which Maedhros was grateful. With Maglor being smaller than Maedhros himself, his brother had to look up to meet Maedhros’ eyes. That Maglor did. With kohl-framed eyes he looked at Maedhros as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, feigning the innocence Maglor had lost along the way.

Although Maedhros knew the child-like innocence was all fake he felt his heartbeat sped up by the way Maglor looked at him.

He hated Maglor for it; hated himself for the reaction all the more.

Maedhros swallowed, then took a step backwards. He knew that in the silence that fell he should speak out his concerns and cut off any further advances before they even were voiced.

He never did.

Instead, Maedhros looked back at Maglor; at those blue glowing eyes with a thousand emotions dancing through them and from there he looked down further, down to his brother’s perfectly shaped body. Then, he quickly looked away.

Maglor’s voice cut like a sword through Maedhros’ hazy mind, finally giving an answer to the previous questions thrown at him. “You wonder why I so readily take hallucinogens and indulge in festivities I know you do not approve of at all? Do you truly wish to know?”

Maedhros was not so certain anymore.

“The answer is an easy one, Maitimo, though you might not like it. They make me forget what I want and feel, at least for a little while. They set me free, in the same way my music does. For a brief and fleeting moment they numb my senses and quench those desires I myself have long not understood.”

Blinking several times, Maedhros stared down at Maglor in bewilderment, guilt and regret washing over him like the waves thrumming against Alqualondë’s pier.

Unfazed, Maglor went on. “Perhaps, you might wonder why I invited you year after year to come along? My reasons were selfish ones, I readily admit that. Seeing me in such a devastated state, drunk and drugged, would immediately spark your protectiveness. I had little doubt about that. I was less certain what your reaction to seeing me flirt with strangers might be, I grant you that, though my hopes were that jealousy would flare. I was not mistaken.”

Maedhros’ mind was reeling, unable to fully process what his brother had said. Maglor took a steady step closer, invading Maedhros’ personal space. He allowed it, though it only added to the nausea he began to feel.

Maglor set the glass down onto the table, then looked right back into Maedhros’ face. “I saw you Maitimo, I saw you well. The little tremble of your hand as you watched me, thinking I wasn’t watching you. The briefest flitter of sadness hushing across your face, the jealousy, the anger. See? It is not only you being able to observe others though you might think it is not so.”

Maglor took another step forward so that their bodies almost touched, placing his hands on each of Maedhros’ shoulders.

Maedhros knew he should bat his brother’s hands away; knew that no good would come from allowing it, should deny everything what Maglor had hinted. He knew that he simply had to, yet he remained frozen, guilt-tripped by Maglor’s previous words. And although Maglor’s hands did not move, even through the fabric of his robes his own skin grew hot to the touch.

The silence in which Maglor simply regarded him stretched until, recalling Maglor’s confession, it appeared to Maedhros that he had spoken without even a hint of slur. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Maedhros remarked, “You appear to be quite sober now.”

“Because I am.”

In confusion, Maedhros’ head twitched.

Maglor smiled. “It is quite an easy thing to pretend that I am drunk when indeed I am not, even easier to pretend to be drugged to someone without experience with drugs at all. All sorts of misbehavior under its influence are so readily forgiven once morning comes, it’s being done all the time. Had I seen true rejection in your eyes the moment I touched your thigh, all too easily I could have proclaimed once questioned that in fact I do not remember having done such a questionable thing.” Maglor’s voice dropped distinctly, a ghostly fingertip now brushing against Maedhros’ cheek for a fleeting moment.

Maedhros breath hitched and he closed his eyes against the assault of Maglor’s touch, against his breath washing over his face and most of all against the way he looked at him.

Maglor’s hand was back on Maedhros’ shoulder as he went on. “But that is not what I saw, not at all, with your emotions unguarded because you thought me drunk.”

Inhaling deeply, Maedhros opened his eyes again, thinking that he better had not.

“Nor is it what I see now.”

The statement, so casually remarked hung in the silence. There were too many emotions coiling in Maedhros’ guts, all tangled and twined and so incredibly confusing that he felt unable contain them as he usually would. His darkest secret so casually and purpose unveiled felt like a slap right into his face.

Maedhros’ voice was a mess. “You lied to me?”

Maglor’s smile was now a challenging one. “Yes,” he responded unfazed, brazen even. “Because you wished to be deceived.”

Maedhros’ mouth dropped open. He was mad at Maglor for the carefully planned deception, for everything his brother had done under the disguise of drunkenness.

But then, wasn’t it his own fault, just as Maglor said it was?

Gnawing, Maedhros had to admit that Maglor had a point there and the admittance brought forth memories of how he had wished his secret to be discovered. The blame was his own to take – had he been more careful Maglor would never have found out, all remaining self-assurance dissipating from his body. He wished to bury his face into Maglor’s shoulder in an attempt to block out the conflicting emotions and the rest of the world, to finally let go of all the doubts and worries.

Without words, Maglor seemed to understand his brother’s distress. “Even now you wish to be deceived.” The words found freedom against Maedhros’ lips as Maglor, standing on his toes had leaned in.

This time, shaking, Maedhros did not try to deny it.

Maglor’s lips were brushing Maedhros’s own so lightly that it almost felt if he was still caught in one of his dreams. It was nothing more than a clumsy brush of lips against lips, the moment gone before Maedhros had fully realized what had happened.

Nevertheless, Maedhros felt his legs grow weak.

“Kano, you should not,” Maedhros said, so softly that he hated himself for it; he even wondered if he had spoken it at all because Maglor did not respond or obey. He knew he should be shocked and outraged; knew that he should immediately put an end to whatever Maglor had done and was about to do.

Rooted to the ground, Maedhros did exactly nothing.

Maglor’s lips grazed Maedhros’ ear as far as he could reach him, his fingers trailing along his high cheekbones and despite of the warmth of the room, Maedhros shivered, fighting against the demons who whispered their encouragement to him. “We should not,” was the last bit of protest Maedhros managed.

“No?” Maglor asked, looking at Maedhros with those forsaken puppy eyes again, head slightly tilted. “And why should we not when even father gets away with it?”

Maedhros’s voice shook, not only from what Maglor just had implied. “Káno!”

The pressure of Maglor’s body pressing against his own was numbing, the heat suffocating. What was worse though was the way Maglor stared at him, hard and hypnotic, with his gaze fixed at his lips.

“What?” Maglor asked, his palms wandering from Maedhros’ shoulders down his chest. “Your outrage doesn’t make it true no less. We all have wondered towards where he wanders sometimes, have we not? A while ago I couldn’t fight against my curiosity anymore,” Maglor confessed.

Maedhros’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t say you’ve followed him.”

Maglor laughed. “Of course I did, quite surprised when I saw him slip inside uncle’s house. I was curious, Nelyo, so I climbed the tree in front of uncle’s house,” All of a sudden, Maglor blushed, then giggled like a child. “That hour was quite .. educational.”

Maedhros could not quite believe it; not what Maglor’s words implied, not that his own brother had spied upon their father. “By Varda’s tits, what is wrong with you?”

Silence fell between them like a curtain and Maglor looked like a beaten dog and immediately, Maedhros felt apologetic for the harshness of his words.

All sparks of excitement were gone from Maglor’s voice as he stated, “That I desire you is wrong with me, I guess.” The look of shame and guilt in Maglor’s eyes was like a punch into Maedhros’ guts. “That the suspicions I had about you were confirmed today and yet here you stand before me, pretending you don’t desire me, when even now you think of things you shouldn’t even dare to be thinking about.”

Defeat and failure numbed Maedhros’ senses, guilt and worry too but amidst all the troubles of his mind a thousand other emotions sprang to life, with thrill being the most prominent one among them.

Maedhros breathed in, jaw slack with defeat. “I – I am sorry,” at last he said and he meant it.

Long had he fought and struggled against the images that simply would not leave until he gave in with a feeling of sick guilt night after night, just moments away from sweet release and the promise of untroubled sleep to follow. Perhaps Maedhros struggled even now against the waves of desire crushing against every fiber of his being. He simply did not know.

The way Maglor looked at him was heartbreaking and Maedhros realized that never before anyone had looked at him in such a way. It was like a promise, like a cure for all his sins, a bright firework of reassurance when again he felt his knees grow weak.    

“Don’t be,” said Maglor, his fingers trembling quite nervously against Maedhros’ cheeks. And then he kissed him fully, in a way he had never before bestowed or taken a kiss. The initial shock of the intensity of it made Maedhros almost flinch, because by no means Maglor should be kissing him like that, nor should he respond as he did. Carefully, his own hands have risen towards Maglor’s face, cupping it as he moved his lips against his brother’s. Kissing Maglor felt as natural as breathing. There was a shape to all the things he had wanted many a night, the guilt included, but then it’s not; it was only Maglor’s fingers as soft as sun-kissed petals against his skin, his lips somewhat smiling against his own. Guilt and discomfort vanished like the mist across the meadow with the sun, exchanged by something greater, far more pleasurable. And then there is more – Maglor’s laugh, like chiming bells, the way Maglor watched him, emotions barely concealed.

They looked at each other, breathing hard until Maglor sunk back into the chair, partly guiding, partly dragging Maedhros with him. For once he didn’t protest but simply let it happen, settling down right in his brother’s lap.

It must have been a sight to behold because undoubtedly the chair, comfortable as it may be, was distinctly too small to hold them both so in the end, Maedhros’s legs dangled awkwardly across the armrest.

It didn’t matter.

Not to Maedhros, nor to Maglor.

All that mattered were their inexperienced hands upon each other, their lips and smiles.

For all Maedhros could imagine, he wanted to feel Maglor’s hands against his face; his fingers threading through his hair; those lips against his own for the rest of the night and many more to come. But most of all Maedhros desired to see that smile again, the way Maglor had looked at him just a second ago, longing burning so brightly in his eyes that it had Maedhros robbed off his breath. For the first time tonight it was Maedhros who took the initiative, burying his head in the crook of Maglor’s neck, placing kisses along his skin.

He was instantly rewarded by a content sigh and arms wrapped tightly around him.

Gasping, Maglor tried to control the uncontrollable jerks of his body when Maedhros sucked all too hungrily.

In Maglor’s hold he felt defenseless.

In Maglor’s arms he felt alive.

This was madness, of the most wonderful sort.

With every kiss bestowed against his skin, his doubts seemed to vanish one by one, at least till morning came.

“Stop that,” Maglor murmured, and though not saying it, Maedhros knew exactly what Maglor meant. He’d always been rational and overthinking to a degree that even his own father had chided him a few times for it. “I have heard that those cookies have quite .. the effect in sexual matters, it would be quite a waste ... you know.”

“Shut up!” One hand tangled in Maglor’s hair, Maedhros pulled his brother’s face towards him and captured his lips into a kiss. Despite not exactly wanting it, he was rough, partly surprised that Maglor didn’t protest his roughness. But then, Maglor kissed back with equal fire, wrestling with Maedhros’ robes until his hand brushed against his thigh. Maedhros bit back the verbal protest he wasn’t quite feeling, although he had to admit he was quite nervous, feeling Maglor’s hands trail upwards. Already then he was close to orgasm.

Maglor spoke in playful exaggeration, tipping against Maedhros’ bare thigh. “So you are truly not wearing anything underneath.”

As much as he usually loved to listen to his brother’s melodious voice, he couldn’t stand Maglor talking nonstop right now. “ Shut up!”

And then, lips and tongues moving against each other, Maglor’s hand was between his legs, touching the damp and hot skin until Maedhros shook in his brother’s arms like a leaf in the wind with thoughts and doubts shattering into a thousand pieces.

Soon enough, Maedhros’ hand tightened in Maglor’s hair. He didn’t last, didn’t wish to last as he lost himself in feelings suppressed for too many years to count. Maedhros whimpered the moment Maglor bit his lip; moaned when his brother whispered his name against his lips as he climaxed all across Maglor’s hand.

Maedhros, still recovering and quite sleepy, didn’t notice Maglor’s squirming beneath him at first, only when his brother suggested, “Let us retire to somewhere more comfortable,” and surprised by his own reaction, Maedhros happily agreed.

 

*

When Maedhros woke up in a bed that wasn’t his own he wondered what they were to each other now, wondered what it was they had become after tonight. And then, as he rolled to his side, he saw Maglor’s tousled hair and eyes that were still clouded by sleep. Nevertheless, Maglor watched him in return, offering Maedhros the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.  

*