Disclaimer: It's not mine, I promise. don't sue me.
A/N: This had been bothering me for a while now, it needed more work… but here you have it. Fluffy angst. Enjoy.
Watching, Waiting (Outside Paradise)
(once upon a time in Paradise, there were two eyes; glowing, silver-grey Elvish eyes, with light stemming from the Trees, from the stars above)
So it was the way Fingon's windy eyes followed him that Maedhros noticed first, pinpricks of light above a stoic glance.
(and then, when he couldn't see those eyes, it drove away all the fire of his own)
It was something in the way Fingon looked at him, stealing glances when he though no one would notice. It was the way he spoke, that tiny trail of longing, or hope – whichever it was – caught in every word, with every breath he took, in and out, in and out. They always stood so close together, feeling the friction as their shoulders brushed, Maedhros's left hand grasping Fingon's right, behind their backs, with no one watching.
(sometimes, a dark-haired boy once said, I can hear a song, is it the song of Eru? and the other laughed)
Still secretly clasping that hand, feeing its dancing warmth, he pulled Fingon away with him, and the other did not protest, though when they were finally alone he locked the door by instinct. They had been watching each other, the way they always used to, when nothing could ever go wrong. Everything has gone wrong, and yet here they were with a left hand on a smooth cheek and lips meeting lips, a kiss rough and beautiful.
(the dark-haired one said, what is this? and the fiery one answered, it is blood, it is blood, you'll see it again)
Fingon was running one hand up and down the other's arm, tracing a few scars, his trademark move, and his hand was saying silently, I want you, I want you and I won't be ignored. He was tired of waiting.
(they are outside of paradise, now, does it matter?)
Maedhros did not speak, as was expected; he gently pushed Fingon against the nearest wall and pinned him there, trapped and loved. He said nothing, only an implied I-miss-you.
"I've missed you, too."
(and some things will never change)