Nelyo and Findekáno
‘Nelyo, I do love you,’ Findekáno slurred, throwing his arm round his cousin’s waist for even he, tall as he was, could not comfortably reach his arm over his even taller cousin’s shoulder. Nelyo made an incoherent sound and giggled. He did not giggle much. He usually laughed loudly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he did.
Fin loved that. He loved making Nelyo laugh.
He loved Nelyo. ‘I love you, Nelyo,’ he said again and it was a little more sober than before and he stopped and looked at Nelyo.
I have always loved him, Findekáno thought, looking at the perfect face, the long hair and broad shoulders, lean hips. He could not remember of course, but it was one of the family stories that the first time he saw Nelyo, he had reached out to grab at the long auburn hair and to wave tiny fists possessively at the lovely face smiling at him with grey eyes so pale they were silver. Indulgent laughter usually followed the tale from family members and Nelyo smiled his lovely smile. And Findekáno had hoarded every smile.
But those feelings had changed more than a little over the years. Now he was grown up, Findekáno knew the feelings that burst in his chest when he thought of his cousin were more intense than any he felt for anyone else in the world.
It was confusing of course, but not perplexing. His father thad explained that sometimes, as you grew up, your emotions became confused; you had infatuations. Crushes. It was perfectly normal and he would grow out of it. And as he grew, he became more of a companion and less of an indulged little cousin. But the crush hand not lessened. Anything but.
Nelyo closed one eye to see Fin better and wobbled on his feet. He had a silly grin on his face. ‘I know, Fin,’ he said, his grin widening. ‘I love you too…’ He frowned. ‘Can’t really see you… properly.’ A very heavy sigh then. ‘Think I drank too much.’ Another burst of giggles and Fin put his arm back round Nelyo’s waist and pulled him close.
‘Come on then. Think I can get us home.’
He lost them taking a short cut that he did not know and they swerved and wobbled and sang loudly until an irritated neighbour came and shouted at the sons of the House of Finwe that their grandfather would be ashamed to see them like this, and Nelyo and Fin stifled giggles and the neighbour pushed them on their way.
They fell into the garden, trying to smother their giggles and shushing each other loudly.
When Fin got Nelyo to his bedroom, they fell onto the bed, laughing stupidly, drunkenly and exhausted from the effort of simply walking home.
Nelyo kicked his boots off and fell sideways. ‘Fin, help me…’ he mumbled into his pillow. The silly grin had not left his face.
Fin looked over to his cousin. Long, long hair spilled over the white sheets like flames, like red fire, his lovely face was half hidden in the pillow but his full lips curved upwards still and his eyes were closed. Fin wished he was a better artist so he could catch that loveliness, that strong masculine beauty.
Nelyo spoiled it all by snoring loudly and there was a little drool on his pillow.
Fin leaned over and tenderly wiped his mouth.
And while he was there, he leaned a bit closer and kissed his cousin’s cheek. Then he leaned his own cheek against Nelyo’s, breathed him in…kissed him again.
Nelyo murmured and rolled over onto his back. His lips parted and he emitted a loud belch. Fin recoiled in disgust and then laughed.
Nelyo’s silver eyes flickered open and he laughed too. ‘Hear that?…Disgustin….’
His eyes fell shut again and his breathing became rhythmic and slow.
Fin leaned over and looked his fill. He need not fear to be caught, staring at the high cheekbones, the full lips that he so wanted to press against his own, the perfect eyes; long lashes but not girlish. No. There was nothing at all girlish about Nelyo. Maitimo. Well-formed. Oh yes, certainly well formed…
He had seen his cousin often enough, clothed, half clothed, naked as Eru made him. And he was well formed in all his parts, thought Findekáno with a small sigh. He let a finger trace the jawbone that was determined without being stubborn or overly strong. He was so very beautiful… it was odd to think of a man as beautiful, but he was not the only one who spoke thus of Nelyo. He was universally admired, desired, so many maids yearning for a look, a glance, a kind word…and even in Tirion though unspoken and barely dared, men too.
And here was Findekáno daring to hope for more.
I have always loved him, he thought again. He recalled his earliest memory, of clutching at the fire of Nelyo’s hair, gripping it strongly and in fascination. He would grip it again, he admitted to himself, but with a different fascination … a different need… wanting to see him lose himself, thrown back his head and arch in ecstasy… wanting to hear him gasp his name…
He was hard and desire licked at his skin, set him aflame and here was Nelyo, spread before him like a feast. He wanted to take it all…If he dared.
It was not like Nelyo was innocent… not like he had never had a lover…he was more than a little notorious amongst the ladies of Tirion, and some of the men too although that was never spoken of openly just rumour and whispers behind the fluttering fans and cards held too close to the face. And Nelyo merely laughed when he heard such tales. He did not deny it. Nor did he acknowledge it. He seemed merely amused although sometimes he asked with whom he was supposed to have indulged himself. That was worse, thought Findekáno, when Nelyo did not laugh but looked…intrigued, or had that closed patient look he had when he was keeping his thoughts to himself.
But he never seems outraged or disgusted. And if he was not disgusted, then perhaps he had ?
Findekáno felt his face hot and smothered those thoughts, the forbidden lust that he could not contain, that erupted from him and burned his skin, his terrible dreams that engulfed him…
And what if Nelyo awoke and was disgusted?
Nelyo would not do that. He would simply smile kindly, as he did at those disappointed maidens who could not catch his flame, and murmur some nice thing that made them feel their loss even more for his gracious kindliness.
Gently he drew the long hair into his hand and let it sift through his fingers, watching the red silk slide smoothly against itself, against his warm skin. It was not just red, but gold and blond and different shades of red. Here was crimson and here a soft vermillion. This one was the colour of Telperion and this a softer silver. Fin lost himself in the colours, the shades, his face close and fingers sifting lightly through his cousin’s long fine hair. Nelyo murmured something unintelligible and Fin stopped suddenly, eyes darting to his face in alarm… but Nelyo merely stirred slightly and threw his arm out so it stuck out over the edge of the bed.
The hand was elegant and well shaped, and the arm muscular and strong enough to work day after day in his father’s forge without rest, without tiring, although he had not a fraction of his father’s skill, he shared the delight the Noldor had for making and design. Fin smiled. He could never indulge himself like this when Nelyo was awake even though he had a quality of stillness that was unique. His smooth insouciance and utter patience was legendary in Tirion. Slow to anger but implacable. Fin did not want to lose his cousin’s love. But he knew too that would never happen. Once given, Nelyo’s love was
Findekáno leaned down to smell his cousin’s skin, Nelyo’s own scent. He breathed it in, wanting to fill himself with it, to drown his senses in it and he rested his hand lightly on the broad, muscular shoulder.
And now the obsession had led him here. Deliberately. He had made this happen. It was never hard to get Nelyo drunk. He liked wine and he liked music and song and company. That was not to say that he had deliberately got Nelyo drunk so he could molest him, press unwanted attention upon him. No. It was reasonably common that he helped Nelyo home like this. It was perfectly acceptable that two sons of lords of the Noldor should carouse and alleycat all night and fall onto the same bed, arms wound companionably about each other’s shoulders. Yes. There was nothing suspect about this at all.
And it would not be unheard of for two young men to fall onto the same bed in a drunken sleep and awaken beside each other, boots off, jerkin off and hair tousled, skin flushed from sleep and drink and full of regret. Indeed this would not be the first time that he had slept on Nelyo’s bed, albeit chastely and innocent. On Nelyo’s part at least, Fin accepted his own reprimand and smiled wryly.
Nelyo had always comforted him. There was something about him that was soothing. It went bone deep. As if he were home.
He put his hands upon his cousin’s skin like it was a relief to touch him, let his fingertips tingle with anticipation and desire. He stroked down his skin, warm. His fingertips brushed against Nelyo’s nipples, small and hard like he was cold and he lingered, pressed his palm over one and felt how it softened and plumped. In fascination, feeling a strange privilege, he gazed at the hollow of Nelyo’s throat, the dip between clavicles and stooped to press his mouth against the hollow.
Then froze for Nelyo shifted and sighed and his limbs were even more relaxed if that were possible.
He pulled his hand back suddenly for his cousin’s eyes fluttered open for a moment and the lovely, full mouth stretched in a smile. He reached for Findekáno and tugged at his hair lightly.
‘What are you doing there, Fin? With a goofy look on your face.’ He did not mean to hurt Findekáno but it did and he pulled away, looked down.
‘Wait, no. Fin?’ Nelyo struggled to sit up, his speech slurred with drink. ‘I did not mean…what that. I was being…I was just…’ He shrugged and shook his head at his own clumsiness. ‘Being an ass. Just trying to be funny.’ He pushed his hair out of his face and stared at Findekáno.
‘No.’ Fin sighed and looked back at his cousin, whose hair was tousled and his cheeks flushed just as Fin had imagined. And he was perfect. So perfect it made his heart ache with misery and longing. ‘Ignore me, Nelyo. It is me who is an ass…I was just…’
They stared at each other.
‘Just what?’ Nelyo blinked slowly trying to focus and he looked so beautiful and vulnerable and sweet, that Findekáno the Valiant leaned over and pressed his lips against his cousin’s.
And felt a smile against his mouth.
‘That’s not how you do it, Fin.’ Nelyo pulled away. ‘Here.’
He cupped the back of Findekáno’s head and pulled him close, pressing his warm lips against Fin’s and then licking gently with his tongue. He tasted of sweet wine. Findekáno gasped and as he did, Nelyo pushed his tongue between Findekáno’s lips and pushed against Findekáno’s tongue.
Ah. A hot spike went through him from his tongue to his belly and groin and toes and he felt his cock surge in delight and his nerves thrilled.
Nelyo’s tongue pushed deeper, more insistent and demanding. Oh Eru! Fin’s cock was hard and aching and his balls churned with excitement. He pushed back and Nelyo fell back against the pillows, giggling, pulling Fin back with him.
‘THAT is how you kiss, Fin!’ Nelyo exclaimed triumphantly, hugging Fin to his lean, hard body and blowing on his ear…
But it was in a silly way. A teasing way that he did with his brothers and Fin pulled back a little. He leaned on his elbow looking down at Nelyo. He was drunk. His eyelids were half closed and he had a soppy expression on his face. He squinted up at Fin again as he had before, one eye closed.
‘Stop moving, Fin,’ he said grinning. His eye moved about as if he could not focus and Fin sighed. It was drunkeness.
He pushed himself to his feet and stood looking down at Nelyo who was still grinning merrily. ‘THAT is your good night kiss, Nelyo. Now go to sleep.’
Nelyo propped himself up on his elbows and that long fall of fire-bright hair streamed over his shoulders and pooled onto the bed. His silver-grey eyes followed Fin mischieviously. ‘Nana doesn't kiss me like that.’
‘I should hope not,’ Findekáno said with a smile. And then, because he had to save his own pride and cover up his folly, he added with equal mischief, ‘But I bet Turko does.’
‘Turko! Hah! He is too busy kissing the noses of his dogs and squirrels and bears an’ deer an’ butterflies…’
‘And pigs, and donkeys…’ Fin added laughing.
Nelyo fell back onto the pillows smiling. ‘Night Fin,’ he said.
‘Love you Fin.’
I love you too, Nelyo.’
Fin closed the door quietly and Nelyo was alone. He opened his eyes in the darkness and sighed. He had known for some time that Fin’s youthful admiration for his older cousin had turned into adoration and then infatuation.
It had happened before. Nelyo had been the object of many an infatuation, both maids and young men. Older men too if the truth be known. It was just time. Fin just needed time to let his fierce young ardour cool and turn to more appropriate pursuits…some sweet maid would ensnare him and he would fall in love for real, and wed…But Nelyo’s heart pulled at him. He rubbed his eyes with his forearm and sighed heavily. Fin needed protecting. He didn’t know it, but he always needed protecting. From the fierce Fëanorian cousins, and both of their overwhelming fathers, from Fin’s overprotective mother. But more, from Tirion. From the wagging tongues and prying eyes and vitriol that would follow the Princes of the Noldor, enjoying scandal and gossip and notoriety. Nelyo had enough for all of them.
Findekáno. The Valiant.
Nelyo smiled, his eyes full of love. Fin was indeed valiant. And brave, gallant, daring…and a complete innocent. And Nelyo was always there to protect him.
He turned over and pressed his face into the pillow where Fin’s head had rested. It smelled of him. He breathed in and let all of Fin’s scent fill him. He would always protect Fin, he swore. Even it meant he sacrificed himself to do so. Even if it meant his heart ached and was wrung with grief when Fin finally found his beloved, and wed her, beget children. Nelyo would be there. Protecting him.
Oh. I say End… but we all know it isn’t.