Love Is A Risky Business by just_jenni
Mar. 20th, 2013 07:45 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
just-jenni.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
b2memB2MeM Challenge: Day 1: Prompt: Friendship
Format: Short Story
Genre: Romance
Rating: R
Warnings: Fluff, Slash
Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Feanor, Nerdanel
Pairings: Maedhros/Fingon
Summary: Maedhros and Fingon were close as youngsters, but will they remain close friends when they grow older and their lives change with the events to come as laid out in the Quenta Silmarillion?
Chapter One
Fingon’s pursuit of Maedhros began almost as soon as he first set eyes on his redheaded cousin. Even as a boy he sensed an unusual attraction to his cousin who was also his best friend. Unsure whether it was the flaming hair that once had caught his gaze attracted him ever after, or if it was Maedhros’ mercurial nature that kept him always off-balance, he questioned himself constantly whether he might be pursuing a lost cause. Maedhros was a known womanizer, changing one young lady for the next as often as he changed his clothes, only to discard all in the end. But for Fingon the pursuit itself was too tantalizing, the anticipated reward too sweet, to allow him to stop.
In those days they called each other by the proper ‘Nelyafinwe’ and ‘Findekano’ their parents preferred and behaved with the aloofness that they felt their parents expected of them. But they did all the things that boys of those adolescent years did – hunt, shoot, throw things – and each other – around. However, Fingon’s love for his cousin had started early - before either he or Maedhros was aware of it. Fingon sensed something stronger than the love born out of the camaraderie that they shared. Even as a youngster many years younger than his cousin he sensed that they were destined to spend their lives forever entwined in some way.
One day when he was approaching his majority and waiting at Maedhros’ house for him to finish bathing, he found himself pacing back and forth in front of the bathroom door. He rehearsed a speech while he fretted, alternately clenching his fists and running his hands through his usually carefully braided hair but today was worn loose and unfettered. He felt he could wait no longer to make his feelings known to Maedhros yet was compelled to memorize his words before he let them spill, heartfelt but rehearsed, from his lips.
When Maedhros finally emerged from the bathroom amid a cloud of steam, Fingon forgot all that he had prepared to say and launched himself wordlessly at his cousin, slamming the unsuspecting Maedhros against the wall. Later he would remember that first feel of Maedhros’ skin beneath his hands, warm and damp from the bath. He closed his eyes and thought of the silk sheets on his luxurious bed that always made him desire to linger longer than appropriate in their sweet, silky embrace. Pressing his body against Maedhros made him feel just like that.
Fingon’s breath came in short gasps and he closed his mouth so that he could luxuriate in his cousin’s scent –reminiscent of fresh pink roses. Fingon’s lips quivered in their longing for a kiss. Maedhros, shocked into silence, stared at him, his green eyes wide, confusion emanating from them. Fingon raised a hand to stroke the damp red hair.
“Findekano! What are you doing?”
Fingon replied by loosening the towel that hung from his cousin’s hips and letting it fall to the floor. With sweaty, clumsy hands he pressed Maedhros’ pelvis against the wall and leaned in to kiss him. In reply, Maedhros pushed him away roughly, an angry look in his eyes and angry words spilling from his mouth. Later, Fingon could not remember the words but they made him feel like a self-indulgent child who had committed a heinous faux pas. At the time he apologized and cried and told Maedhros that he was confused and had tried to profess his cousinly love but in a most inappropriate manner. Maedhros had gracefully accepted his apology but the two cousins, who had been previously close in the sense that they had done almost everything together up to this point, became estranged, seeing each other only at family functions that were necessary to attend.
A year later Maedhros surprised his cousin at Fingon’s coming-of-age party by embracing him. Fingon and his parents had been standing in a receiving line welcoming guests, and when Maedhros finally passed through the line, he clasped Fingon’s hands in his, said heartily, “Congratulations, Findekano, you are grown up,” and looked at him differently. Fingon could see that the difference lay in the way Maedhros’ green eyes shone when he regarded his cousin and former close friend, and by the way his graceful hands caressed Fingon’s fingers. Maedhros made him feel as if they were the only two people in the room, and this caused his old feelings to rise to the surface.
Later that evening Fingon drifted outside to a small balcony abutting one of the parlors, to enjoy some fresh air and a little solitude away from the eager young maidens clamoring for his attention, and in whom he was not interested. He leaned on his elbows upon the balcony wall, chin resting on hands, gazing out over the sparkling spires of Tirion’s magnificent edifices below, shining in the shimmering light of Telperion. He was unaware that Maedhros had silently sidled next to him. Startled, Fingon turned to see his cousin by his side, Maedhros smiling back at him with dazzling green eyes.
With questioning gaze, Fingon stared back, his eyebrows raised, waiting for Maedhros to speak. In this moment he felt defenseless, at a loss for words. The moment had the distinct feel of unreality.
Maedhros spoke in a shy whisper, in itself unreal. “Ai, but tonight you look ravishing,” he said to the disbelieving Fingon. He raised a hand to Fingon’s flushed face, brushing a silken strand of raven hair away from his soft cheek, still soft as a boy’s but with the ever-growing harder planes of a man’s face.
Fingon could only repeat the word. “Ravishing?”
In that moment he felt a paradigm shift. The world had changed as he knew it. The past days of his boyhood spent with his cousin flashed before his eyes. All the boyhood things they had done together passed him like painted scenery from a play. Lazy days spent fishing, lying on riverbanks, their lines dangling in the water, discussing the latest inventions in weaponry. Both desired to be famous warriors and spent many hours practicing swordplay in private with the best swordmaster their fathers could provide. Each scene melted away rapidly into the next: the days spent riding together in the green forest outside the city, practicing their skills with bow and arrow, hunting small game, happily eating it together roasted over open fire. Swimming in their private pond. Sleeping in the same room but in separate beds, discussing the latest events in their families’ lives. Maedhros telling Fingon about his latest fling…
“You are,” Maedhros replied, blushing. Taking Fingon in his arms in one swift motion, he bent his head and kissed his cousin fully on the lips. It was a long, languorous kiss and at the same moment their lips met and lingered together, Fingon felt desire for his cousin grow harder beneath his robes of deep blue brocade and velvet. He knew that Maedhros felt it also, through the folds of heavy fabric, their embrace so snug that every muscle, every pulse resonated with each other in each of the places their bodies touched. To Fingon’s delight he felt a rising answer from his cousin to the question posed by his own eager body. But too soon Maedhros parted from him. Putting a hand to his mouth he cried, “I’m sorry,” and rushed away, leaving him wobbly, dazzled and breathless.
Format: Short Story
Genre: Romance
Rating: R
Warnings: Fluff, Slash
Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Feanor, Nerdanel
Pairings: Maedhros/Fingon
Summary: Maedhros and Fingon were close as youngsters, but will they remain close friends when they grow older and their lives change with the events to come as laid out in the Quenta Silmarillion?
Chapter One
Fingon’s pursuit of Maedhros began almost as soon as he first set eyes on his redheaded cousin. Even as a boy he sensed an unusual attraction to his cousin who was also his best friend. Unsure whether it was the flaming hair that once had caught his gaze attracted him ever after, or if it was Maedhros’ mercurial nature that kept him always off-balance, he questioned himself constantly whether he might be pursuing a lost cause. Maedhros was a known womanizer, changing one young lady for the next as often as he changed his clothes, only to discard all in the end. But for Fingon the pursuit itself was too tantalizing, the anticipated reward too sweet, to allow him to stop.
In those days they called each other by the proper ‘Nelyafinwe’ and ‘Findekano’ their parents preferred and behaved with the aloofness that they felt their parents expected of them. But they did all the things that boys of those adolescent years did – hunt, shoot, throw things – and each other – around. However, Fingon’s love for his cousin had started early - before either he or Maedhros was aware of it. Fingon sensed something stronger than the love born out of the camaraderie that they shared. Even as a youngster many years younger than his cousin he sensed that they were destined to spend their lives forever entwined in some way.
One day when he was approaching his majority and waiting at Maedhros’ house for him to finish bathing, he found himself pacing back and forth in front of the bathroom door. He rehearsed a speech while he fretted, alternately clenching his fists and running his hands through his usually carefully braided hair but today was worn loose and unfettered. He felt he could wait no longer to make his feelings known to Maedhros yet was compelled to memorize his words before he let them spill, heartfelt but rehearsed, from his lips.
When Maedhros finally emerged from the bathroom amid a cloud of steam, Fingon forgot all that he had prepared to say and launched himself wordlessly at his cousin, slamming the unsuspecting Maedhros against the wall. Later he would remember that first feel of Maedhros’ skin beneath his hands, warm and damp from the bath. He closed his eyes and thought of the silk sheets on his luxurious bed that always made him desire to linger longer than appropriate in their sweet, silky embrace. Pressing his body against Maedhros made him feel just like that.
Fingon’s breath came in short gasps and he closed his mouth so that he could luxuriate in his cousin’s scent –reminiscent of fresh pink roses. Fingon’s lips quivered in their longing for a kiss. Maedhros, shocked into silence, stared at him, his green eyes wide, confusion emanating from them. Fingon raised a hand to stroke the damp red hair.
“Findekano! What are you doing?”
Fingon replied by loosening the towel that hung from his cousin’s hips and letting it fall to the floor. With sweaty, clumsy hands he pressed Maedhros’ pelvis against the wall and leaned in to kiss him. In reply, Maedhros pushed him away roughly, an angry look in his eyes and angry words spilling from his mouth. Later, Fingon could not remember the words but they made him feel like a self-indulgent child who had committed a heinous faux pas. At the time he apologized and cried and told Maedhros that he was confused and had tried to profess his cousinly love but in a most inappropriate manner. Maedhros had gracefully accepted his apology but the two cousins, who had been previously close in the sense that they had done almost everything together up to this point, became estranged, seeing each other only at family functions that were necessary to attend.
A year later Maedhros surprised his cousin at Fingon’s coming-of-age party by embracing him. Fingon and his parents had been standing in a receiving line welcoming guests, and when Maedhros finally passed through the line, he clasped Fingon’s hands in his, said heartily, “Congratulations, Findekano, you are grown up,” and looked at him differently. Fingon could see that the difference lay in the way Maedhros’ green eyes shone when he regarded his cousin and former close friend, and by the way his graceful hands caressed Fingon’s fingers. Maedhros made him feel as if they were the only two people in the room, and this caused his old feelings to rise to the surface.
Later that evening Fingon drifted outside to a small balcony abutting one of the parlors, to enjoy some fresh air and a little solitude away from the eager young maidens clamoring for his attention, and in whom he was not interested. He leaned on his elbows upon the balcony wall, chin resting on hands, gazing out over the sparkling spires of Tirion’s magnificent edifices below, shining in the shimmering light of Telperion. He was unaware that Maedhros had silently sidled next to him. Startled, Fingon turned to see his cousin by his side, Maedhros smiling back at him with dazzling green eyes.
With questioning gaze, Fingon stared back, his eyebrows raised, waiting for Maedhros to speak. In this moment he felt defenseless, at a loss for words. The moment had the distinct feel of unreality.
Maedhros spoke in a shy whisper, in itself unreal. “Ai, but tonight you look ravishing,” he said to the disbelieving Fingon. He raised a hand to Fingon’s flushed face, brushing a silken strand of raven hair away from his soft cheek, still soft as a boy’s but with the ever-growing harder planes of a man’s face.
Fingon could only repeat the word. “Ravishing?”
In that moment he felt a paradigm shift. The world had changed as he knew it. The past days of his boyhood spent with his cousin flashed before his eyes. All the boyhood things they had done together passed him like painted scenery from a play. Lazy days spent fishing, lying on riverbanks, their lines dangling in the water, discussing the latest inventions in weaponry. Both desired to be famous warriors and spent many hours practicing swordplay in private with the best swordmaster their fathers could provide. Each scene melted away rapidly into the next: the days spent riding together in the green forest outside the city, practicing their skills with bow and arrow, hunting small game, happily eating it together roasted over open fire. Swimming in their private pond. Sleeping in the same room but in separate beds, discussing the latest events in their families’ lives. Maedhros telling Fingon about his latest fling…
“You are,” Maedhros replied, blushing. Taking Fingon in his arms in one swift motion, he bent his head and kissed his cousin fully on the lips. It was a long, languorous kiss and at the same moment their lips met and lingered together, Fingon felt desire for his cousin grow harder beneath his robes of deep blue brocade and velvet. He knew that Maedhros felt it also, through the folds of heavy fabric, their embrace so snug that every muscle, every pulse resonated with each other in each of the places their bodies touched. To Fingon’s delight he felt a rising answer from his cousin to the question posed by his own eager body. But too soon Maedhros parted from him. Putting a hand to his mouth he cried, “I’m sorry,” and rushed away, leaving him wobbly, dazzled and breathless.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}