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He’d figured it was a good idea to get a job. Make money around classes and make it through university marginally more comfortably. But Legolas still got sick of serving coffee by the end of every shift. Most customers were students, like himself, in fact from the same uni, and while he understood how stressful life was for them (sure, he was currently finding his course on European History fairly simple, but the sheer amount of reading and essay-writing was enough to drive even him up the wall), it couldn’t be that hard to be polite, even if they couldn’t afford to tip. Legolas, even at his most proud, irritable and standoffish, did at least try to be polite to servers.
Maybe these people were just yet to work a job in their lives.
He’d already served a girl who had muttered under her breath about how slow he was, even though with every shift he was making whatever ridiculous infusion it was faster and faster. She’d told him to keep the change (one pence) as a tip and left with a distinctly huffy air. Then there was that beefy guy Legolas had seen on the arm of a girl on his course. Legolas had nearly fancied the look of him, until, at the sight of Legolas’ long blond hair and make-up, the man had sneered. True, it was unfair to reduce his shift down to just those two. All the other customers had been pleasant enough, considering the time and dreary state of the weather. But being snubbed did not sit well with Legolas at all and the man in particular had left him feeling rather sour.
Another customer walked in. Legolas vaguely recognised him as someone on the same course as him; a man with wavy dark hair that fell just to his shoulders (though on this occasion, it was messily tied back as Legolas had sometimes seen it in lectures) and a short, unkempt beard. They’d yet to exchange even one word, but Legolas knew he had this man’s measure: another hipster bastard. It was nearing the end of his shift, and as ever, Legolas was starting to tire of making strangely titled infusions that, in his opinion, ruined good coffee. Couldn’t people just appreciate a good Americano, or even a flat white? Especially since the coffee that Café Rivendell served was such good quality.
It was probably his own fault for choosing to work somewhere so clearly niche. It attracted hipsters like flies to horse shit.
The guy was now looking at the blackboard, deliberating. Legolas had instinctively stepped aside so as not to block his view, but this man could only be three inches shorter than him. Still, Legolas thought, it’s not exactly easy to tell someone’s height when they’re constantly lounging back in their seat in every single class. However unlike Legolas, he wasn’t lithe. In fact, he was quite solid with wide square shoulders
“I’ll just have a regular black coffee” he said in a smooth, well-spoken voice
“Sure” Legolas was both relieved and (pleasantly) surprised. Evidently it had seeped into his voice;
“You sound more chipper than you looked just a few seconds ago” the man chuckled as Legolas turned around to make the coffee
“Honestly, I thought you would order an infusion of some complicated sort. I was pleasantly surprised” Legolas explained over his shoulder. The man, who was now leant at ease on the wood-top counter, nodded with a small smile
“Aren’t you in my class? I’m sure I’ve seen you in the same lecture theatre as me, leisurely writing notes”
“Like you can talk” Legolas grinned, turning back around as he waited, “Don’t think I haven’t seen you lounging around like you’re on some sort of photoshoot”
“Are you saying I could be a model?”
“Well, I wouldn’t rule it out as a career path” Legolas smiled, first at the floor, before raising his gaze. The man looked slightly amused. Perhaps he gets this a lot, Legolas thought. He turned back around to complete the coffee, adding the trademark leaf pattern on top
“I take it that’s all?” Legolas asked, setting the coffee down on the counter
“Yes, thank you. I like the pattern” he replied, handing over some coins before Legolas even mentioned the price. It was written next to the drink up on the blackboard after all, “Put the change in the tips jar”
“Thank you” Legolas said. He hadn’t failed to notice that the change amounted to only a little less than the coffee itself had cost
“It’s not every day you get told you could be a model, Legolas” the man smiled once more, glancing down at Legolas’ name tag, before heading over to a table by one of the windows. He pulled a laptop and some headphones (Sennheiser, Legolas noticed, admiring his taste) from his satchel and quickly became engrossed in what Legolas guessed was the essay due that afternoon. He’d only finished it the night before. It wasn’t hard exactly, more one of those things you just never feel like writing. It was a slog to get through. At least he hadn’t been the only one who had felt that way.
Aragorn, Legolas soon discovered, was not all that dissimilar to himself. Not that he found out his name until two days later, when the man sat next to him in a lecture. Usually, both Aragorn and Legolas sat alone, but today, the former slid casually into the seat to Legolas’ right
“Hi” he said. This time his hair was down, but no less messy than when it was in the bun before. There was no discernible parting: some sections were swept directly back from his forehead, while others were pushed sideways and fell haphazardly around his face. It suited him- Legolas couldn’t imagine him with sleek, perfectly parted hair in the manner of his own
“Hi,” Legolas replied, “Tired of lounging around?”
“Oh I intend to continue if that’s alright with you” he grinned, putting his feet up to emphasize the point, “By the way, I’m Aragorn. Believe I forgot to introduce myself”
“I’m glad I finally know what to call you”
“Besides a model” Aragorn raised an eyebrow
“You’re never letting that go are you”
“It’s not often I’m that flattered”
As the group received their previous essays, now marked, back, Legolas was surprised to see Aragorn’s graded higher than his own. Legolas’ grades had been consistently high and he’d never actually witnessed Aragorn doing much of anything during a lecture. Maybe he’d made a few notes, but that only amounted to a handful of incidences
“You’re not so bad” Aragorn observed, “Considering how supremely unbothered you always appear”
“I could say the same of you” Legolas replied
“Well, I’m quite interested in the history of the Baltic states” Aragorn had started to speak less clearly, looking somewhat embarrassed, “So I know quite a lot already. And my dad’s family are Estonian, so that helps too”
“Fair” Legolas inclined his head “I can’t claim any reason as interesting as that. I just happen to be quite good at writing essays, I guess”
“Modest, are we?”
“When I need to be” Legolas replied, “Anyway how did you get into the history of the Baltics?”
“Well, since I have family from there, it started from that. My cousins live there. When I was younger and we’d go to visit…”
It didn’t take long for Legolas to learn a lot about Aragorn and Aragorn about him. True, they were yet to spend any proper time together outside of lectures and the odd meeting in the library, but Aragorn had suddenly become a regular at Café Rivendell. Usually he would order his coffee, perhaps with some sort of pastry or other snack, then settle down with his laptop and headphones, sometimes a book. Most recently, it had been “Cat’s Cradle”, a book Legolas had been meaning to read himself but not yet gotten round to. After he noticed Aragorn had finished it, he asked if he could borrow it, not meaning to accidentally (and truthfully) imply that he might have been sneaking the odd glance at him whenever Aragorn came in during his shifts.
It was starting to become a mess.
It had begun with that coffee order. One that was said politely, with friendliness and a smile, a smile that Legolas had liked a lot. Then that deep, smooth chuckle. An amused smirk. The bashful admission to being perhaps a little nerdy, juxtaposed with the passion in his words and eyes as Aragorn talked about learning Estonia’s history of a child and wanting to know more, devouring all the books he could find. The relaxed, easy demeanour which seemed completely unshakeable and even the glasses Legolas hadn’t realised he wore until he put them on to read a few days ago. But most of all, it was that passion and that fire Aragorn had whenever he talked about things he liked. That, more than the throwaway flirty remarks and general good looks, was the thing really doing Legolas in.
It was all these things, little, tiny things that were piling up into a tower that was wobbling dangerously and threatening to topple. Legolas was a mess and there was no getting around it. What was worse, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to date this man. Yes, he could list an endless number of things he would definitely love to do with Aragorn, but did he want something more than that? The answer still wasn’t clear in Legolas’ mind and yet every time he saw Aragorn there was something that made him feel off-balance, in whichever way it was. He was simply just too attractive. It had to come to a head some time.
He was working the morning shift on a Thursday. Just like any other day. Better, in fact; he’d had a good shift, all things considered. No-one had been overtly rude, he was finally getting the hang of this infusion business and there had even been a few tips that came his way. Gimli, his supervisor, who had initially seemed stubborn and irritable (not that Legolas himself had initially been any more amiable), was actually pretty funny, in a moody, sarcastic, dark sort of way. Legolas felt like one day, he and Gimli might end up being friends. At any rate, his snarky commentary, pitched at precisely the right volume so only Legolas would hear, about everyone who walked into the café, made the shift infinitely more entertaining
“Oop, a real gym rat” he muttered in his thick Yorkshire accent. Legolas turned his head and almost fell over on the spot.
Shit.
Gimli did not miss his start of surprise and laughed a little, leaving Legolas on his own to simply stare as Aragorn approached
“I think I’ll get a green tea, please” Aragorn said, before also grabbing a banana and an orange “And these”
Legolas had been staring very obviously since he’d first turned to look. Aragorn was sweating, though only a little. He must have walked from the gym, judging by his state and attire (luckily for Legolas, loose shorts and a faded t-shirt. If it had been anything tight fitting he might have struggled). It was a weird comment to make about someone who must have just worked their arse off exercising, but Aragorn seemed like he was bursting with energy. The veins in his forearms were clearly visible, his hair bore the effects of copious perspiration and it was even messier than usual. He might have been breathing a little deeper than usual. But he still looked so full of life, like he was practically ready to take on just about anything and capable of winning.
“Right” Legolas replied hastily, hoping he hadn’t paused for any noticeable amount of time. He quickly typed the codes into the till, entirely forgetting the banana.
“£3.85 please”
“That seems a little low, I think you’ve forgotten something” Aragorn’s voice oozed the fact he was smirking. Apparently Legolas had been exceedingly blatant
“I… the banana!” Legolas sighed, keying it in. But Aragorn had already handed over the exact correct amount; as usual, he’d already worked it out
“I’ll bring the tea over in just a sec, so go sit down. I won’t lose you in here” Legolas said
“Sure thing” Aragorn chuckled again, in a manner Legolas couldn’t quite decipher the meaning of, before heading to his usual table
“Nice one lad” Gimli emerged from where he had evidently been watching. Legolas resented the use of the term “lad” and the smug tone- Gimli was only five years his senior, “Good and subtle there”
“Please do not even discuss that any of that happened every again”
“So you know him?” Gimli pressed as Legolas laid a tray on the counter
“He’s on the same course as me”
“And?”
“We’re friends”
“And?” Gimli continued expectantly. Legolas sighed as he placed down the cup and saucer. He should have known that Gimli was now likely going to take a vested interest in his personal life
“I like him. So what?” Legolas hissed shortly, placing the sugar bowl onto the tray with unwonted aggression
“Careful. And I just wanted to hear you admit it” Gimli grinned with that insufferable smugness, “Best to be honest”
“You are a serial liar. And exaggerator!” Legolas put the teapot onto the tray with somewhat less frustration and more care than the sugar bowl
“I make the decision to live my life irresponsibly, with full knowledge that I could have done a better job” Gimli said as Legolas left with the tray.
He managed to recompose himself by the time he reached Aragorn’s table and was almost the picture of normality as he set the tray down. It wasn’t like he was a total disaster, he did possess a fair amount of self-control. He’d been taken by surprise when Aragorn had first walked in (really, he was good-looking at the best of times. That had just been ridiculous) and that was what bothered him now. He had definitely done a rabbit-in-the-headlights stare at Aragorn for far too long to get away with it
“Thank you very much” Aragorn dipped his head. There was definitely a much greater element of playfulness in his voice than usual. How much of it, if any, was mocking, Legolas could not tell
“You’re welcome” Legolas deadpanned and gave a miniature bow. What else was he to do?
They’d not yet hung out properly, outside of lectures and the café. It was the first time they were going to hang out properly. They had free time, without essays to do and Aragorn had asked if Legolas wanted to hang out, maybe order some pizza and watch a movie or two. It sounded great to Legolas but now, of all times, he had to have plans. Of course. Of fucking course
“Gimli, my supervisor, it’s his birthday and for some reason he’s invited me on a night out with him and his friends. I’d ditch, because honestly I think I’d rather hang out with you, I literally don’t know any of his friends, but it is his birthday”
“And I was hoping you would do my eyebrows” Aragorn sighed with a touch of dramatics, “It’s okay, I understand”
“Thanks, I just wish you could come with or something. I mean I guess I could ask” Legolas said exactly what was in his head, without thinking about it at all
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose, or-“
“I’ll ask him right now. I’m sure it will be fine” Legolas took out his phone. Truthfully, he didn’t know whether he wanted this to happen or not, but he’d committed to the idea now. Gimli replied within two minutes.
Gimli: that’s fine lol
Gimli: might this friend be Aragorn
Legolas: yes. shut up.
It was really his own fault for talking about Aragorn to Gimli. He sort of had to after the “Gym Incident”; Gimli practically forced it out of him with constant questions and jibes. Still, to expect anything but relentless ribbing has been wholly naïve on Legolas’ part. Yes, there was the odd encouragement (if “shut up and bang him already” could be counted as such) that made Legolas feel like maybe he should stop dithering around and just go for it. But really, he should only have expected teasing, teasing and more teasing.
It could have been worse.
“So what kind of place is this we’re going to tonight?” Aragorn asked during a lecture he probably should have been paying more attention to
“Why?” Legolas looked up from his notes
“I need to know what to wear, don’t I?” Aragorn shrugged
“Do you know Lothlorien? That’s where we’re going”
“I didn’t realise we were going to a gay bar”
Legolas stopped writing mid-word. He felt like he’d just walked into a wall. At no point had it occurred to him that Aragorn might be straight. The way he’d approached him and continued to interact with him had seemed so definitely queer (not to mention flirtatious) to Legolas. He’d legitimately asked if Legolas would show him how he did his eyebrows because he wanted his own to look that good.
Legolas cursed himself. He hated it when assumptions were made about him because of his effeminacy. Yet here he was, making slightly baseless assumptions about someone else. Among these feelings of annoyance and guilt, his disappointment prodded at him. After all, if Aragorn was straight then that was it.
“I’m sorry, almost all of my friends are queer” Legolas amended hurriedly, “It didn’t even occur to me, to be completely honest. If you don’t want to come, that’s completely-“
“No, no!” Aragorn interjected, “I was just a little surprised. I quite like Lothlorien, I’ve been once or twice”
“Really?” Legolas was sure his hands were shaking and he didn’t even attempt to hide the shade of relief in his voice
“It’s quite a cool place, I like the atmosphere in there”
“I’ve been once myself, though I barely spent any time there. No, not like that,” he added as Aragorn gave him a look, “My friend Haldir had a little too much to drink before we went. One shot and he was threatening to throw up all over the place so I had to take him home”
“A shame. Hopefully that won’t happen tonight”
“I don’t know, are you a lightweight?”
“I like to think not” Aragorn said somewhat proudly
“Good. And Haldir doesn’t know Gimli so he definitely isn’t coming. Truth be told, I’m glad you are coming, given that I don’t know anyone else there except Gimli.”
They met at the Café (long closed for the evening), as a reference point so they could all head to Lothlorien together. When Legolas arrived, only Gimli and Aragorn were there already, chatting animatedly. Legolas hoped Gimli was feeling kind that day and had hopefully revealed nothing
“Happy birthday” Legolas grinned, giving Gimli a big hug
“Thanks, lad” Gimli thumped Legolas hard on the back. He’d definitely started drinking already
“Alright, Aragorn?” Legolas asked, trying to avert his eyes from Aragorn’s very tight black jeanes
“Good, yeah, just getting to know Gimli. He’s less of a prat than you make him out to be” he grinned
“Oi!” Gimli directed at Legolas
“You know I only ever mean it as a term of endearment” Legolas punched Gimli on the arm
“Remember it’s my birthday” he mock grumbled
Legolas woke up in a bed that was not his. After taking a while to assess his surroundings, he cast his mind back to the night before… nothing had actually happened. Gimli had drunkenly flirted with him a few times, each instance followed by Aragorn dragging them to the dancefloor yet again. After they’d left, Legolas had gone back to Aragorn’s since it was closer- Aragorn had invited him. Both of them had evidently managed to change out of their clothes into something vaguely resembling pajamas (Legolas was shirtless and wearing a pair of grey joggers that were definitely Aragorn’s), though Legolas did not remember that part very well as they’d both fallen asleep almost instantly after that. Nothing had happened. Still, that had to mean…
Aragorn was a lot closer than Legolas had expected, still snoring loudly. He was just balanced at the edge of the mattress, having let Legolas take up a large portion of the bed. As a result of this surprise proximity, Legolas promptly found his face being invaded by Aragorn’s hair and he could not avoid sneezing spectacularly. It was enough to rouse Aragorn; he awoke with a start, impressively managing to remain on the bed. Legolas hastily moved up
“Sorry, your hair was a lot closer than I expected”
“S’fine” Aragorn replied blearily, moving into the space Legolas had created. He paused, waiting to become slightly more awake, then shook some hair away from his face and looked questioningly at Legolas
“Did we-“
“No. Nothing happened” Legolas smiled, “Apart from how possessive you were every time Gimli flirted with me?”
“Was I? And why are you in my bed?” Aragorn asked blankly, propping himself up against his pillow and the headboard
“You were, just a bit” Legolas teased. Every time Gimli had said something, Aragorn appeared mysteriously out of nowhere and broke up the conversation, “And I came here because you invited me, since I live further from Lothlorien than you”
“That was nice of me” Aragorn stretched, pushing his arms as far forward as he could. Unlike Legolas, he was wearing a shirt, “But just to clarify, nothing happened”
“Nothing happened” Legolas replied evenly
“Oh”
“Oh?”
“Nothing” Aragorn muttered
“No, say it” Legolas pressed
“It doesn’t matter” Aragorn sighed
“Did you want something to happen?” Legolas asked tentatively, hoping he was in the right ball park
“Do you?”
“Only if you want to as well” Legolas had barely finished his sentence when Aragorn’s lips found his own.
It was a good thing they didn’t have lectures that morning.
Although, as Legolas found out when he next went to work, he’d had a shift
“I don’t care if you were hungover”
“I wasn’t” Legolas replied
“Then where the hell were you? I was here, birthday boy ‘n all” Gimli demanded
“I… I forgot” Legolas opted for the partial truth
“How can you forget work?” Gimli asked in astonishment. Legolas sighed. There really was no getting around it with Gimli
“I was… pre-occupied”
Unexpectedly, Legolas received a hi-five
“About fuckin’ time” Gimli said, “And don’t miss work again though. I’m serious”
Aragorn was going to get Legolas into trouble. Their friendship remained almost exactly the same, except they were now having sex with each other. A lot. Which was awesome. Not to mention the texts Aragorn sent during lectures, of all times. And not many things felt better than finishing a stressful, work-packed week and going back to Aragorn’s or his own place and simply forgetting everything for a few hours. Sometimes, they would hang out and Legolas wouldn’t think anything was going to happen. Then out of nowhere, Aragorn would be on his lap, silently daring Legolas to put his hands on Aragorn’s hips and take him. And Legolas almost always gave in. If he didn’t, it was only because Aragorn was the one doing the taking.
But as wicked and devious as Aragorn was, that wasn’t what he was doing that was going to get Legolas into trouble. He’d sort of put the question of how he felt about Aragorn to one side in lieu of thinking about how hot he was. But now they were actually having sex, Legolas’ thoughts were no longer dominated by images of Aragorn taking him in his mouth, or thoughts of riding Aragorn until he couldn’t walk. Not that he wasn’t partial to those now he’d actually done those things, seen Aragorn’s beautiful body. Now however, he was thinking about soft kisses and held hands and picnics, for crying out loud. He was thinking about the B word. Which was far, far worse.
And totally Aragorn’s fault for being so lovely and wonderful and talented and smart and radiant.
“I thought you’d shut up about him now you’re banging every other day”
“Yeah, well, me too” Legolas muttered darkly. He should definitely not be confiding this in Gimli. But Haldir was being mysteriously cold and Legolas didn’t really feel like telling him about this particular predicament yet. Given that Gimli already knew more than Legolas had planned and had a knack for wheedling information out of him, he was the best option, since he would have just found out anyway. Not to mention that this shift was unusually quiet and thoughts of Aragorn so overcrowded Legolas’ mind that stopping himself from unloading them, whether to an empty room or a crowd of strangers, was more than an uphill task. Legolas had tried not thinking about him- that had been like wading through treacle. Gimli, for all his wit and sharp-tongued sarcasm, was at least a good listener
“Just ask him out to dinner and see how he takes it” Gimli sighed, evidently either tired of mocking Legolas or bored of hearing him talk about Aragorn
“But-“
“Grow some balls, lad. If you haven’t drained them dry by now” he finished in a dark chunter
“I heard that!”
“So? What’re you gonna do?”
“If I ask him on a date, you have to be nice to me for a week” Legolas said immediately, his mind fast at work. Some sort of bet, to prey on his competitive side, would likely imbibe him with the confidence he needed
“What do I get out of this?”
“If I don’t, I’ll clean the stock room for you for a week”
“Now that is a done deal” Gimli clasped Legolas’ hand jovially, “It has to be here, so I see you do it. You’ve got the next three times he comes in here”
Legolas was so ready. He could do this, he was sure. He’d seen the man naked, how hard was it to ask him out really? Legolas had spent far too long psyching himself up, partially out of determination to prevent Gimli from reigning victorious, partially because he could not stop thinking about Aragorn so what else could he do? But all of it, all that thinking, had actually made Legolas quite confident and he felt rather at ease.
Unfortunately, his job, that important thing he needed to do, existed. As did that queue of people behind Aragorn as he ordered a black coffee and a slice of lemon drizzle. Legolas did not have the time; they were too busy. As he made his way over to his usual table and pulled out his laptop ad headphones, Legolas surveyed him with a pang of disappointment. He’d been so calm and now he only had two chances left. Aragorn looked up to see Legolas’ gaze and winked. Then the impatient little cough of the next customer tugged Legolas back to the world in front of him.
The second time you do something, you’re meant to be more confident. Supposedly, that was the rule but as Legolas had technically not done it the first time, it only made sense that it would not apply. Legolas’ heart was beating too fast as he wiped down the already spotless counter for the eleventh time. Anything to keep him busy as he waited and wondered whether Aragorn would wander through that door today. This was exactly his third shift since Aragorn last came in and oh boy was he hoping and praying that he’d come in again today. The shift was beautifully quiet, peaceful enough for him to have time but not so empty that everyone else would hear. If any time was the right one, it was surely now.
Legolas waited. He cleaned everything he conceivably could, made every order to startling precision. All of this on nervous repetition, anything to avoid overthinking (which he knew he was doing anyway). Right until five minutes before the end of his shift. By then, he had almost given up. He’d still have two chances just the same. It had seemed like the perfect time, but it couldn’t be helped; he’d just have to wait a little longer. But as it turned out, that was not long at all. Four minutes before Legolas’ shift ended, Aragorn strode in through the door. Post-work-out again, hair tied into a slapdash bun that left about as many locks loose as it held up. As usual, it was effortless, but beautiful. Not perfect; perfect was how Legolas would describe his eyebrows when he’d finished doing them. Perfect was not a person and it never could be, because Aragorn’s imperfections and messy little faults and habits made him so human, so real, so infinitely better than perfect.
He’d reached the counter
“Just caught you” Legolas didn’t question that Aragorn knew his schedule. They had sat up until far too late to call themselves responsible enough to be adults, talking about nothing but Chinese food, space and Muay Thai Kickboxing (Aragorn practiced it regularly; Legolas had done in his last years of school before university). Aragorn knew his regular takeaway order, his favourite band, even the book Legolas currently wanted to read the most and that changed every day. So of course he knew Legolas’ shifts, down to the minute
“Just about” Legolas smiled, “What can I get you?”
“A lot of things” Aragorn said, as though deep in his own head, “But for now” he fixed Legolas with a playful look, “Just a green tea”. As usual, he handed over the money straight away. Using the opportunity that operating the till afforded him to not look Aragorn in the eye, Legolas began
“I was wondering if I could ask you something”
“Ask away” Aragorn invited, evidently relaxed. Either he was clueless, or certain of what was coming. Knowing him (which was something Legolas congratulated himself on regularly), it could quite easily be either
“Well, obviously, we hang out a lot. But, anyway, I was wondering if, you know, maybe we-“
The loud, unmistakeable sound of a cockerel rang through Café Rivendell
“Sorry that’s my phone” Aragorn fumbled in his satchel, “My cousins are in England and they want to meet up tomorrow” he finally found his phone, answered the call and immediately began a conversation in rapid Estonian. Legolas motioned for him to go and sit down at a table. Aragorn flashed Legolas a grin, before taking the invitation. As Legolas made the tea, he glanced over his shoulder several times. Not that he needed to; he could pick out Aragorn’s conversation with his cousin through the hum of chatter from the customers.
It looked like attempt number two was, in fact, also a failure.
After coming so close, it was easy to become disheartened. Legolas did wonder if he should give up the bet and simply ask Aragorn at the end of a lecture, or some other time when he could easily scurry off if it did not go well. But the thought of the competition, as well as cleaning the stock room for an entire week, was enough to deter him from that path. His shift the next day was obviously written off, since Aragorn had to travel an hour by train to see his cousins and was going to spend the whole day with them. But, excluding that, the knowledge that it could be his final chance within the confines of the bet at any moment spurred Legolas on rather than scaring him. Being on high alert constantly was just too tiring. After all, it was just a bet. Just a conversation, just one question, was all it came down to. Why was it such a big deal?
It always had been. Legolas could flirt for an entire day, hook up with a stranger, hook up with four, all without any considerable nerves. It was fine and calm. Simple. The easiest thing, until feelings got involved. That was always where he cracked. Suddenly everything became exaggerated in his head and Legolas became extremely thankful for his ability to appear calm in almost any situation. His eyes stopped being able to see things in their proper proportions because, in this case, Aragorn seemed to distort the space around him.
Just one question.
Legolas’ competitive spirit had taken a firm hold. He would not be defeated by Gimli and by one question. Not when him and Aragorn were having sex regularly and flirting with too much meaning for just friends who fuck each other. He’d thought far too much about it already, going through cycles and cycles of deciding to stop making a big deal out of it, before proceeding to only think the whole thing over once again. He wasn’t even asking Aragorn to be his boyfriend. So, five days later, he’d resolved to just get on with it.
Assuming Aragorn was going to come in that morning.
It seemed, at least then, that Legolas was a lucky man.
It was a rainy morning, which made Legolas feel like he’d much rather be lying in bed, curled up and warm. Preferably with Aragorn (he was almost constantly warm) to keep him company, if he could have his way. But Legolas was not in bed and nor was Aragorn. In fact, the latter was now stood in front of Legolas, sporting a thick, dark green jumper, black jeans and rain-soaked hair that fell in and around his face
“In need of a hot drink?” Legolas asked with amusement
“Just a bit. Breakfast tea please” Aragorn fumbled about in his pockets, then handed over some damp coins, “Keep the change” he added, before heading over to his usual table. With some trepidation, he pulled a book out of his satchel (something about the history of tattoos) and, finding it to be dry, quickly became engrossed.
Legolas was struck by an idea, which he hoped would not displease Gimli too much. Along with the pot of tea, he placed a slice of lemon drizzle (Aragorn’s favourite, or at least what he bought most frequently) on the tray, the cake on top of a napkin that he had drawn a heart on.
“I don’t think I recall ordering this” Aragorn raised an eyebrow
“Oh, it’s just from some idiot behind the counter” Legolas smiled
“Yeah?” Aragorn’s grin spread slowly across his face until it was as wide as the times when he laughed like he didn’t remember how to stop, “And would he like to ask me that question he didn’t get to finish the other day?”
“Would you like to go on a date with me? I was thinking maybe dinner sometime”
“How’s Saturday”
“Perfect” Legolas breathed more than replied. Finally. He’d finally done it.
He’d never seen Gimli so conflicted.
For his part, Aragorn had suspected what was coming. What surprised him was Legolas’ nervousness. Christ, you’d think when they were having sex every other week…
Still, he wasn’t complaining. As they walked home from a very nice dinner, chatting almost exactly like usual, Aragorn felt deeply comfortable. As if, somehow, at that one point in time he was exactly in the place that he should be. The nearer they got to Legolas’ place, the further their conversation drifted toward the gutter. And then, when they got through the door, there were almost no words at all as they made their way to the bed, entangled in each other.
Legolas was a beautiful man. To Aragorn, that statement was absolute, irrefutable. But, he thought, there were few times Legolas was more beautiful than when he came while riding him. Just watching that was a pleasure in itself. His face full of tension, eyes shut, mouth slightly open. Breathing heavily, jaggedly, every exhalation somewhere between a breath and a moan. Then slowly, he’d quieten. His eyes would open just a little later as a satisfied smile began to dance around the corners of his mouth. On this occasion, he came quite a while before Aragorn. Legolas climbed off Aragorn (to some disappointment from the man) and shifted so his head was between Aragorn’s legs. Gently, he took Aragorn in his mouth, coaxing him to his climax and guiding him over the edge
“I could fall in love with you”
It was barely a murmur. Legolas felt the worlds on the back of his neck as Aragorn absentmindedly muttered them. Legolas rolled over to face him. Aragorn looked like he was gazing upon the beautiful stars in the night sky
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Legolas asked quietly. Aragorn paused, then gently kissed Legolas, wrapping his arm protectively around him and letting his hand rest over Legolas’ back
“Yes. Yes I do” Aragorn smiled and kissed Legolas again.
Never mind could, Legolas was sure he might have fallen in love with Aragorn already.