Fingolfin had known about what Maedhros and Fingon got up to behind closed doors, for some time. He'd accidentally walked in on them once, politely excused himself, and after they'd finished, they went to find him in his library, to talk about what he'd seen. The two young men were afraid that Fingolfin would be angry with them, both because of the relation, and because love between people of the same gender was forbidden by the Laws... but to their surprise and relief, Fingolfin was accepting.
But Fingolfin did not like keeping things from Fëanor, so eventually, he told Maedhros to tell his father. And he did. Fingolfin knew there was a potential for this to go badly, since he was Finwë's eldest after all, and Finwë had passed down the Laws from the Valar, but Fëanor also took it well.
What Maedhros and Fingon didn't know, and what Fëanor didn't know - though sometimes Fingolfin wondered if any of them could guess - was that Fingolfin was hardly in a position to judge Maedhros and Fingon for their incestuous gay love affair. As long as Fingolfin had been capable of love and lust, he had longed for Fëanor, who wasn't just his brother but his best friend.
When Maedhros and Fingon invited their fathers and uncles to their secret wedding, Fingolfin decided it was time to come clean. After Fëanor had a meeting with Maedhros and Fingon to show them plans for jewelry he was going to design for them to wear at the ceremony, and the young men had gone off together holding hands and giggling, Fingolfin seized the moment.
"Ah, you're probably wondering what I've been making for you," Fëanor said. "I have the scroll of the design sketch in my forge..."
"That can wait."
Fëanor looked almost offended - the furrow of his brow practically screamed how dare you interrupt discussion of MY CREATIONS - and Fingolfin couldn't help smiling a little. He thought Fëanor was adorable when he was grumpy... and he did so love the way Fëanor burned with passion when he spoke of his projects.
But Fëanor did not reply with anger. "What is it?"
Fingolfin cleared his throat and took a small, polite bow. "I love you, Fëanáro."
"Well, I love you too. But we already knew that -"
"No... you... don't get it." Fingolfin took a deep breath. His heart raced, his stomach churned. He had never been afraid like this in hunting or battle, but his heart belonged to Fëanor and rejection would destroy him. "I'm in love with you."
Fëanor got very very quiet. The angry look was gone - but there was no reaction at all, as if Fëanor was trying to gather words to say.
Perhaps a lecture on why this is wrong, against the Laws... it is one thing for cousins to love each other, another for brothers to be this way together. Fingolfin glanced over at the door, ready to run.
Then Fëanor said, "Greetings, In Love With You, I'm Fëanáro."
Fingolfin smacked himself in the forehead.
Fëanor's face lit up in a grin like he was pleased with himself. That smile always took Fingolfin's breath away, but this was no time for games. He needed answers. He needed to know, one way or the other. He couldn't go on aching like this from afar. At least if Fëanor told him no, he could begin the process of trying to get over it. As if I could ever get over him, truly.
Fingolfin put his hands on his hips. "I'm being serious!"
"Hi Being Serious."
Fingolfin glared.
Fëanor's laughter rang out, and before Fingolfin could march out the door, Fëanor got up and took Fingolfin into his arms, then moved in close and kissed him full on the lips. Fingolfin savored the feel of Fëanor's soft lips, and groaned as those lips parted and their tongues met for the first time. Their tongues swirled slowly, sensually, brushing, dancing, teasing. A shiver went down Fingolfin's spine, his entire body tingling. He had thought about this moment many, many times, and kissing Fëanor was much better than the fantasy. Fingolfin shivered again as Fëanor's hand ran up his chest.
They pulled apart, breathing harder, and Fëanor touched Fingolfin's face, all tenderness and warmth. "I love you too. But..." Fëanor cocked his head to one side. "I cannot lie to my wife."
"She already knows." Nerdanel had helped push Fingolfin towards making the decision to tell Fëanor. "She gives her blessing. It is not Nerdanel we should be worried about. As you know, this is against the Laws."
"So we'll have to be careful. We'll have to... pretend we hate each other." Fëanor nodded, and then leaned in to steal another kiss.
Those kisses made Fingolfin's head spin. He needed to pull himself together - he couldn't resist getting Fëanor back, a little. "That shan't be difficult, if you keep making those ridiculous jokes. You needn't treat everything like a joke."
"Oh, Ñolo, I do not treat everything like a joke. Please. You're just Prince No Fun Allowed sometimes."
"I am not. Just because I don't joke like you do doesn't mean I have no sense of humor."
Fëanor had that wicked look on his face again, and Fingolfin knew it was too late. "Ai," he said under his breath.
"Hello Not Just Because I Don't Joke Like You Do Doesn't Mean I Have No Sense Of Humor."
Fingolfin glowered so hard he felt like his face was going to fall off. "I am so done." Then he clapped his hand over his mouth, realizing.
Fëanor elbowed him. "Hi So Done." Fëanor kissed the tip of his nose. "I'm in love with you too."
"Hi In Love With You Too." Fingolfin pulled Fëanor close to claim his mouth once more.
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