The Clash
Raising his head carefully as to not aggravate the headache he could feel
thundering in his temples, he then let out a sigh of relief when he saw the
familiar gold and black of Lee's hair. Satisfied that he didn't have Eowyn or
Arwen on him, he gingerly lowered his head and blindly reached out to shut off
his CD player. After a few tries, he finally shut off the music and relaxed in
the stillness of the morning. And swore that he'd never let his drink go
unguarded whenever the witches were about.
As he thought of this, he shifted slightly and looked at the clock hanging on
the wall in front of him. He let out a subdued sigh of relief when he saw it was
only nine in the morning. Good. He had at least two hours in which to get sober,
get cleaned himself and the house cleaned up before his dad came home before he
went out and met Boromir.
"Hgrraunged. I don't wanna get up."Aragorn's thoughts were pierced by the sleepy
mumbles coming from the hung-over elf now slowly stirring to wakefulness from
Aragorn's chest.
"Then get off of me." Aragorn told him, his tone utterly dead-pan as he spoke.
"Huh? Estel?" Legolas' head shot up, an unbelievably cute expression of
confusion on his face as he looked at his brother which was quickly replaced by
a wince before his head flopped back down.
"What exactly am I doing here? And where the hell are my clothes?" Lee
muttered, still face-down on his brother's chest, his arm flopping this way and
that in a really poor attempt to gather his clothes.
"How the hell should I know?" Aragorn retorted as he shoved the elf off of him
and sat up, wincing at the throbbing in his temples that signalled he would most
definitely get a thunderous headache before long. The wince deepened when he
noticed his stomach lurching alarmingly at his sudden movement. This was not a
good start.
On the plus side, he still had all his clothes on and he was in his bedroom.
That was good. Right?
Legolas groaned and buried his face in his arms. "You're Estel Aragorn Strider.
You should know these things." he mumbled crossly before lifting the blanket and
looking down at himself.
"Yes. Got my pants on. Zipped up too." Aragorn rolled his eyes at the comments
and was about to make what could have passed as a witty remark in their
hung-over minds when his stomach decided it would be a good time to rebel
against him as payback for last night's activities.
Deciding that being sick took precedence over being funny, Aragorn quickly ran
out of the room and into the bathroom directly across the hall from his room.
"Shut the door man!" Lee heard Max yell before the sounds of violent retching
reached Legolas.
His first thought was. "Why the hell is Max here?" The second thought was: "Why
didn't Estel close the damn door?" The third was promptly thrashed when he felt
himself turning green and he too made a mad rush to the other washroom in the
house and thus realizing why it was impossible to shut the washroom door when
you're going to be sick as fucken dog in seconds.
"Fucken hell! Why can't you guys shut the damn doors?" Danny yelled out.
"I swear! Fuck man! You guys got something against shutting doors? Is it against
your religion or something?"
Hearing this made Aragorn both groan weakly and to promise himself that he
wasn't going to EVER let Arwen, Eowyn and Eomer into his house again for as long
as he lived.
- "What the hell are guys doing here?" Aragorn asked Max, Glor and Danny, who
all looked a little worse for the wear as they sat around the dinning room table
waiting for Legolas to finish making the coffee and to find the alka-seltzer,
club soda and limes to cure their hang-overs.
"Too drunk to walk home." Max mumbled, his head in his arms as he sat slumped
over the table.
"Dad would have fucken killed us. He's pissed enough about Arwen being such a
slut, he'd skin us if we came home pissed out of our trees and with Danny
sucking face with Glor here."
He said as he gestured to the pale elf that looked like death warmed over.
Drinking really didn't agree with Glorfindel at all. Most of the time he was the
semi-sober one, since he liked to get stoned more than he liked to drink. But it
seemed that he had fallen victim to the "spiked drink" brigade of Eowyn, Eomer
and Arwen, who didn't like him ever since her brother had started going out with
him back in Grade Eleven.
"Shut up." Danny ordered grumpily, but with little enthusiasm, since he too had
a turn worshipping at the porcelain gods that morning.
"Did everyone go home allright?" Aragorn asked. The others nodded
unenthusiastically.
"Oh. Eowyn puked on your drive-way, by the way." Glor added softly.
Aragorn winced at this. He still had a headache and was still looking
precariously green even though he had taken a shower and had taken some aspirin
as well.
"Does your dad know about you two?" Aragorn asked in an effort to quell his poor
stomach down before he got sick again.
"Yeah. He told me he knew when I first put on one of Arwen's aprons and was
playing house."
Danny grinned slightly at the memory. The others just smiled, since they
recalled being suckered to play house with Arwen and Danny at one point or
another when they were kids. Legolas only shook his head as he came to the table
with the glasses of Club Soda with Alka-seltzer and lime juice mixed in for the
others to drink and hopefully make them seem human or elvish again before noon.
"It's the making out with Glor that he doesn't like. He thinks it's bad manners
to be sucking face all over the place. I guess Arwen's little displays grossed
him out."
Aragorn snorted. "Tell me about it. I swear, when I was going out with her, I
was always afraid that she had sucked my tonsils out or something. It was sick
man!"
Max raised his head long enough to sniff at the drink set in front of him and
smile lop-sidedly at Aragorn.
"And to think that half of the school wouldn't mind getting their faces sucked
by her. Or Eowyn." He commented before he took as sip of the Club Soda.
"You know, I'm actually surprised that you lasted so long with those two."
Glorfindel commented as he also drank down his soda in a rapid succession of
gulps.
Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
Glorfindel nodded. "Yep. I mean, those two are obviously harpies at heart. It's
not a huge wonder as to why they stick together, You know."
Max laughed slightly. "Aww. Lay off him, Glorfindel. He was just being nice to
them." He then frowned at his drink.
"Besides, do we really want to make ourselves sick again, talking about those
two this early in the morning?"
"Yeah. No shit, eh?"
Glorfindel muttered, getting up and putting his glass in the sink.
"How's the living-room looking?"Aragorn asked as he leaned back and stretched
out his arms in order to work the kinks out. Having Legolas sleep on him for
most of the night hadn't really done much for him and he was still feeling
pretty achy despite taking a shower before showing up at the semi-council
happening at the table.
"Not too shitty. Trowa cleaned some of it for us." Max replied.
"He said that it was the least he could do after Duo tried to hit on
Glorfindel."
Danny's left eye began to twitch at this information.
"He did what?" He then turned to his boyfriend, whose face had gone very pink
and who was refusing to look at him in the eye.
"Nothing happened, Elladan. Relax." Max soothed his brother, who looked like he
was going to hunt down the little violet-eyed prick who had dared to even look
at his Glor.
"Glor punched him one after he wouldn't quit it."
Max told his brother, who had now lost the angry, "I'm gonna kill the bastard
hitting on my partner" look and was now doing his best not to give him a sappy,
cutesy smile of mixed appreciation and surprise at his actions.
"Idiot." Glorfindel mumbled, his face still a nice shade of pink. Danny grinned
sheepishly before he grabbed Glor and gave him kiss on the forehead.
"Yeah, But I'm your idiot." He murmured, making the others sitting at the table
roll their eyes at the sappiness on display before them.
"Cut it out guys. You can screw each other silly later. Right now, we gotta
clean the house so that Estel can get laid tonight." Lee told the elves sternly
as he began to bustle around the kitchen, his hangover cured by both his elven
powers and by the club soda mix he had made.
" He's finally going to get laid tonight?" Danny asked, ignoring the indignant
splutters coming from Aragorn's corner of the table. Glor giggled, while Max
grinned widely. It was great to take the piss out of Aragorn sometimes!
Lee grinned as he began to wash the small stack of dishes sitting on the
counter.
"We're hoping."Lee replied, getting another round of spluttering from his
brother. "Maybe it'll help him be less uptight!"
"LEE!"
"Where are we going?" The small woman didn't reply. She just kept on walking
through the field of half melted snow. His little brother clutched his hand
tightly. It felt sort of sticky, but it was warm.
They kept on walking, but he could tell she was getting tired. And it was
getting darker. Her hair didn't seem as dark as it always was. It... was... fading.
Fading to a straw colour.
"Mama?" He was beginning to be afraid now. Her hair was changing as they walked.
Walked. From where? Why where they walking? Where were they going?
She couldn't go on now. She was too tired. They wouldn't make it. She fell to
the white ground, and he saw her green eyes were also faded and bruised with
dark smudges underneath.
The white behind her head made her look pale, fragile. Too fragile. He didn't
have the words for the emotions in his chest, but he knew that she was going to
leave him and Miri.
"Mama?" He called out to her, hoping she's smile and tell him that it would all
be fine. That she would stay with him and Miri. That things would be the same
again.
She smiled at him. His eyes were prickling with tears, but he wouldn't let them
fall. He had to be strong. For Faramir. He had to be. There was no one else. If
his mother left...
"Boromir, Faramir." Her smile was growing faint, but it was still there. "Don't
forget. To live by your emotions. Never forget that."
"Fuck!" Faramir frowned at the sound of his brother's voice. Although he didn't
give a damn about how much he swore, since he did it himself, he was kind of
concerned about the little ones hearing such language when they were so young.
He was going to tell his brother to cool it, but the words died in his throat
when he saw the drawn expression on his brother's face as he got up from the
bed, which had only them as its occupants.
"Boromir?" His brother ignored him and walked to the window. He turned and
looked outside, his arms wrapped around his body, shivering slightly as he did
so.
"It isn't snowing." Boromir muttered as he rubbed his arms roughly. "It isn't
snowing."
He repeated, his eyes fixed on the scenery outside.
"It isn't snowing."
Faramir swallowed hard and slowly got out of the bed and went to his brother,
who was still repeating the phrase under his breath as he kept on rubbing his
arms as if to warm them up even though the room was at a comfortable
temperature.
"Boromir?" He whispered as he put his hand lightly on his brother's shoulder.
"What is it?"
"I saw her." Boromir admitted after several moments of silence.
Faramir frowned, unsure of what his brother was talking about.
"You saw who?" He asked, his voice still hardly above a whisper lest he scare
his brother away into the silence that he would use as a shield as he battled
his demons alone.
"Mama." Boromir finally replied, his voice a harsh, broken whisper as he spoke.
Faramir's eyes widened at the admission and he wrapped his arms around his older
brother in an effort to give him a measure of comfort.
Boromir hardly, if ever, spoke of Finduilas Denethorson is such a loving and
simple term. Most of the time, he referred to her as "Mother". He never used the
other word unless he was upset. Or if he had just been haunted by memories that
only he knew about and would refuse to share with anyone.
"It was cold." Faramir raised his head and looked at his brother, who still had
that deadened and tragic look on his face as he spoke.
"And we were walking through a field covered with snow. She was so tired though.
She couldn't walk any longer. And she laid down. She spoke to us, and she was
changing. Her eyes were faded and so was her hair. She died in that field."
Boromir lowered his head and drew in a shuddering breath before practically
collapsing into his brother's arms. "She died in that field."
Faramir soothed his brother with gentle words, carefully stroking his hair as
he tried to get himself under control again.
"I hate that dream. I hate it." Boromir whispered brokenly.
"Every time I try to get together with someone, I have that dream. As if I was
warning myself from getting to close to someone lest they go away like she did.
I hate it."
"Aragorn won't be like that, Bor." Faramir assured him.
"I know he won't be. He isn't Casey. He never will be like that. He isn't!"
Boromir laughed softly. "Can I be sure of it Faramir? Can I?"
"Yes." Faramir said, his voice of quiet conviction.
"I know that he is. Even though I only met him briefly, I know. He stayed with
me when he didn't have to. He took care of a stranger, for fuck's sake! Do you
think Casey would have done the same thing? No, he wouldn't. Nor would he have
willingly stepped in and helped you like he did. Or are you forgetting that?"
Boromir shook his head. "I don't think I could forget my knight in shining
Vans."
Faramir chuckled at that description of Aragorn. "No, I didn't think you would.
He's quite the gallant figure in those shoes."
Boromir couldn't help himself and laughed at the remark. "To think of it! Me,
having a knight!"
Faramir grinned, glad to have broken the mood that Boromir had woken up in.
"He is more than a knight, Boromir." He said softly, making his brother look at
him closely.
"Don't let the memory of that shit-head ruin you for him. Casey isn't worth not
taking the chance of being with him."
Boromir nodded before he pressed a soft kiss on his brother's forehead before
ruffling his hair playfully and releasing himself from his arms.
"What the hell would I do without you?" He asked, his voice a husky whisper as
he moved away to the bureau drawer.
"Nothing. You'd probably just sleep your days away. Or read manga all the
time!" Faramir shot back. To which Boromir replied by throwing his old U2
t-shirt at him. Faramir laughed and easily caught the ragged bit of cloth that
Boromir slept in and tried to ignore the large pattern of scars that decorated
his back.
Even though the pattern could be called artistic, it still was self-mutilation.
Or sibling mutilation, he reminded himself as he reached over to his arm and
rubbed at the raised scars that were hidden by the cloth of his shirt. They had
carved patterns into themselves and had somehow gotten artistic as they did so,
enlisting each other's help when they needed to get elaborate.
He wasn't ashamed of the scars, but he was uncomfortable looking at them,
since they were a reminder of all the bad times that had nearly broken them if
they hadn't been able to find strength in each other and in the pain and blood
they willingly inflicted onto themselves.
Boromir's scars were different from his in that they were carved to
represent a pair of broken angel wings that stretched from his spine, covering
his shoulders and most of his upper back. Some of the tips touched his rib-cage
at the front. He also had an upside down cross in the middle of his back and the
words "Vicinum" underneath it. A product of his break-up with Casey.
Faramir himself had lines on most of his arms. No pattern, just thick scars.
Except for the upside down crosses on both arms with the slogans "SIN" and "MEA"
above them. But not too many people saw them, since he usually wore long-sleeved
shirts even in the summer. They were his badges and the words only held meaning
for him alone, a treasure that he guarded extremely carefully.
"Where are the little ones?" Boromir asked, turning around and taking Faramir
out of his thoughts, a gesture which he was immensely grateful for lest the urge
to take a razor-blade and carve out more stuff began to re-surface.
Even though he did it when he was upset, lonely or hurting, sometimes, he would
just get the need to see blood flowing. Need it like a freaking drug which he
wasn't sure if he wanted to say no to.
Faramir frowned. He had been half-asleep when Celeborn and Galadriel had taken
them, so he wasn't really sure where exactly they had gone off to.
"Ehm. The park I think. Mom and Dad are going to spend the day with them, I
think."
Boromir nodded. "Oh. Okay. I guess I can go meet Aragorn today then."
Faramir gawped, then grinned at his brother."Oh yeah!! You've got a
da-aa-atee!" Faramir crooned out teasingly.
Boromir blushed slightly. "Shut up. It's not a date. We're just gonna meet at
Whyte and go for coffee, get to know each other. Nothing more."
Faramir laughed. "Sounds like a date to me."
Boromir growled and stalked out of the room and into the bathroom, leaving
Faramir to snigger to himself.
An hour later found Boromir sitting in the smoky interior of the Sugarbowl, a
half-finished cup of coffee in on hand and a cigarette in the other. He had
gotten there about ten minutes earlier and was now watching and waiting for
Aragorn, getting more and more nervous as the time passed.
"I feel like such a girl" He muttered to himself before taking a drag of his
smoke.
"He said he would come." He told himself as he took another swallow of the warm
coffee. "So why the hell am I so worried?"
He put the cup down and took another drag, letting his attention idly wander
to the other patrons in the small, eclectic café. Most of them were older
couples, professors and university students with books, papers and writings pads
in front of them as they either study or write the bare bones out of an
assignment. He watched the students with idle interest, his thoughts wandering
here and there as he saw a girl's pen scratch out loopy letters on a yellow pad
of legal paper when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder that made him jump in
surprise.
"Whoa." He heard a rich, deep voice say before Aragorn appeared and sat down in
front of him, a lock of dark hair falling into his eyes as he did so.
"What?" Boromir asked, putting out his cigarette the minute that Aragorn had
sat down.
"I never knew you'd be so jumpy." Aragorn replied, smiling slightly. "I wouldn't
have tapped you if I had known you'd act that way."
"Aah." Boromir replied as he took as sip of his coffee and looked at the other
man sitting in front of him as he tried to desperately find an avenue of
conversation to break the ice.
Aragorn was looking great as always. Although the dark hair looked very
tousled, it made him look as if he had just rolled out of bed after a session of
great sex. His clothes, although expensive, looked rumpled and hastily thrown
on.
"I rushed over here." Aragorn explained sheepishly, running a hand down his
rumpled shirt when he noticed the intense scrutiny Boromir was giving him.
"Lee and I were busy cleaning the driveway after the party and I lost track of
time. Sorry I'm so late." He apologized, hoping that Boromir hadn't been waiting
there for ages before he showed.
"It's okay. You're here now, that's all that matters." Boromir replied, drinking
the last of his coffee and standing up.
"Do you want some coffee?" He asked as he took his cup, his movements somewhat
abrupt and stilted as he went to get a refill.
"Ah. Sure. I could use a cup. Especially after last night." Aragorn accepted,
rubbing his forehead wearily. Boromir noticed the pained look on his face and
laughed softly.
"You gotta tell me all about it after I come back with your coffee then."
Boromir said, his voice holding a high tone of amusement that made Aragorn smile
feebly.
"For a cup of coffee, I'll do anything you ask." He conceded, putting his head
down on the table.
"Hmm. I'll take you up on that offer sometime, Strider." Boromir replied,
winking at Aragorn before he went up to the counter.
Aragorn was glad that Boromir hadn't seen the blush that had spread over his
face at that remark. Even though he knew that the remark was made as a joke, he
couldn't stop his mind from coming up with a bunch of scenarios straight out of
the porn flicks that Eomer had lent him when they were in grade ten and curious
to know exactly what the hell sex was about. Except that instead of a porn
actress or Eowyn taking the action, it was Boromir.
He could see it as clear as day too. Those green eyes glassed over with lust,
the golden hair with its red and blue streaks spread wantonly over a pillow as
his head was thrown back, back arched with pleasure as... Groaning slightly,
Aragorn buried his face into his arms. Jeezes L. Gallagher Christ. Why the hell
did his imagination have to work overtime this early in the morning?
"Here's your coffee." He groaned again at the sound of Boromir's voice. There
simply was no rest for the wicked was there?
"Thanks." Aragorn said in a voice muffled by the fabric of his jumper. He was
ready to die of humiliation now. Scotty, anytime you're ready, you can beam me
up.
"Are you that tired?" Boromir asked, misinterpreting the reason why Aragorn
wouldn't lift his head.
"Sort of. More like disgusted." Aragorn replied, lifting his head enough to look
at Boromir.
"Why?" Aragorn grinned and brought the cup closer to himself, hoping that
Boromir had added milk and sugar to it even if he hadn't asked for them. He had.
Perfect. He was ready to feel a little more human now. Especially now that his
imagination has left him alone.
"Eowyn puked in my driveway and we had to clean that and the house up." Aragorn
replied.
"Shit man. That sounds like you had some wild party." Boromir replied,
effectively shutting down the regret he felt at not having gone when the chance
had presented itself.
"Yeah. I guess you could say that. Especially with the strip twister and the
block streaking."
Boromir laughed."Let me guess. Duo Maxwell and Yohji Kudoh were there right?"
Aragorn smiled briefly before taking a sip of coffee. "You are familiar with
their games?"
Boromir nodded. "Those guys are just..." He shook his head before taking a sip
of his own coffee.
"They're wild. Always were, if I remember correctly."
"You were friends before?" Aragorn asked, his curiosity perked at the drabbles
of Boromir's past.
"You could say that. Duo was after me when we were in Joe's and Yohji and I met
through Thom York when I was thirteen." Boromir replied, his face sort of closed
as he spoke.
"Sounds like you had a very interesting past." Aragorn noted, his voice neutral.
The blonde man shrugged. "I guess. It wasn't interesting when I was
experiencing it, though. It was just life."
"I guess you would think of your life that way when you experience it." Aragorn commented, studying the abstract geometric patterns on his mug as he
thought about the bits of Boromir's past.
"It's partly that and partly because it's something I'd rather not remember, to
tell you the truth. It wasn't the best of times for me or my brother and I'd
rather not think about it now."
Aragorn nodded
"I understand. I didn't mean to make you relive the past, Boromir."
Boromir smiled slightly.
"It's okay. I know that you weren't prying. I guess that if I heard about Yohji
and Duo for the first time I'd think that way too. No problem."
Aragorn nodded again.
"Well. Can you tell me more about yourself? It wasn't like we had time to
actually find out who we are that day."
Boromir laughed softly.
"No kidding."
He took another swallow of coffee before he began to speak.
"Do you want the David Copperfield version? Where I was born, who my parents
were, what schools I attended, all that stuff?"
Aragorn shrugged.
"I don't want to force you to tell me things, Boromir. I just want to know
about you cause... well... you fascinate me. You really do. I just want to know what
stuff makes you who you are. I want to know whether you like soccer and why.
Who's your team and why you think a particular striker sucks. If you have read
Anne Rice or Trainspotting and if you liked them. I don't want to know the stuff
I can find in a file or stuff that I can readily tell about you."
Boromir couldn't help himself and laughed heartily at Aragorn's words. Faramir
had been right, he reasoned as he looked deep into those blue eyes. Aragorn was
nothing like Casey. He was more than Casey could ever be.
"Okay. But I have to give you some "file Information" as you put it, before I
get to the good bits."
Boromir said, waggling his eyebrows a bit as he said the last words, making
Aragorn nearly snort coffee up his nose at the image of what the good bits would
be about.
"My brother and I were born in France. My mother died when I was about five or
so. I don't know who my father was. My grandma took us in, but she died when we
where around seven. We have been living in foster homes ever since. The end for
the file bits."
Aragorn laughed again at the description of Boromir's file bits. Never had he
been told about anyone's past in such a strange and clipped manner. It was both
weird, interesting and refreshing enough that it didn't sound boring. It also
was so glossed over that the painful bits weren't really apparent if you hadn't
really been paying attention either. Hmm...
For some bizarre reason, the matter of fact way that Boromir listed off his
"file bits" helped break the thin sheet of ice that had been between them the
minute that their pasts had come up for discussion. After Aragorn had told him
exactly that, Boromir had visibly loosened up and was now being more open, more
animated with the story of himself and his past.
Even though it was a weird list of quirks, like his fondness for watching any
vamp flick, Watching anime while doodling the characters in his notebook, or
eating mint chocolate chip ice cream with mandarin oranges while reading
classics (He was the only man that he had ever met that would freely admit to
reading "Jane Eyre" and "Wuthering Heights") or watching "Shakespeare in Love"
and "Dogma" for the quotes, his fear of the dark when he was a kid, how he snuck
into a cemetery at midnight to see if there really were ghosts around, Aragorn
found himself enjoying the conversation. Lee had often joked about his desire to
know so much about people and that he should really look into either becoming a
sociologist or a psychologist, since he liked to know exactly everything that
made a person tick and why. It had bugged him when Lee had teased him that way,
since it made him sound like some kind of obsessive weirdo that would stalk
anyone at a moment's notice.
But in truth, he only cared to know things about the people that he cared
deeply about. The ones that he wanted to stay in his life and be with him for as
long as possible. He didn't care that much about anyone else. Only the ones that
had proven to him that they would be strong enough to withstand whatever
information he would throw at them and still want to be with him.
"Well, that's the most of it. The nasty bits come later, I guess. Is that how it goes in relationships?" Boromir asked, feeling a bit awkward at having said so much about himself.
Although Aragorn had wanted to know about him, he still felt like a twit for
having spoken so long without a break.
Aragorn shook his head.
"Well... it depends what kind of nasty bits they are. If it's stuff like you, I
don't know, leaving your underwear to ferment in a pile for weeks on end, maybe.
But if it's stuff like conducting satanic rituals in the basement..."
Here Aragorn smiled impishly while Boromir's lips twitched into a grin despite
himself at the strange things that had come out of the other man's mouth.
"Well, I would appreciate it if you'd be kind enough to tell me before I find
you in the middle of one of your rituals."
"Okay. I'll make sure to do that. I understand that goat blood can be a bitch to get out, so I'll do just that." They chuckled at the image that comment
brought up before Aragorn spoke up.
"I guess it's my turn to spill the goods, right?" Boromir waved his hand and took a sip form his luke-warm coffee as he waited
for Aragorn to tell him his own file stuff.
And he did, punctuating it with self-deprecating comments that made Boromir
chuckle as he listened to his own set of weird hobbies and personality traits
after reciting the boring file bits, which where being born in Ontario and being
sent to a parochial school at his mother's insistence, where he was first called
by his middle name due to some clerical error, but had kept on using since he
didn't like other people apart form close friends and family using it, their
move to Alberta and his enrolment in St. Anthony's which earned him a place in
St. Ig's, the reason why Legolas was his brother for all intents and purposes
due to a tradition his mother refused to give up.
Then came the weird list. Like his fondness for Shakespeare and any play he could scratch up money to go to(That's if they were actually good), historical
and fantasy novels (The well written kind), Weezer, U2 and the Tea Party, but he
liked rocking stuff like the Clash, Dropkick Murphys and Bouncing Souls as
well(Not bad for an alternative, huh?) And how Legolas teased him horribly about
his need to know things about people. Partly the reason why he broke up with
Eowyn and Arwen so many times and never really established a relationship with
them.
"Who's Eowyn? The blonde one with the wimp for a brother?" Boromir asked quietly, making Aragorn cringe at his thoughtlessness at having
brought up Eowyn and her dick of a brother up.
"Uh... Yeah. Her." Aragorn, at that moment, wished that there was a trapdoor right under his feet
that could swallow him up and save him from the embarrassment that he had
unwittingly cast upon his own head.
"The dark haired one is Arwen. She's the dark-elf's sister. Danny."
Boromir nodded.
"I think they just went out with me for the association, to tell you the truth." Aragorn continued, his tone thoughtful as he spoke.
"I don't think they really liked who I turned out to be. Or else I was just too
weird for them."
Boromir snorted.
"I know the feeling. You only go out with them because you don't want to be
mean. But when you go out with them, they bore you to death. And you can't say
that you'd rather be banging your best friend or hers than them because they've
got better conversation unless you wanna get your ass kicked for sitting on the
fence."
"When did you know?" Aragorn asked, keeping his voice low as he spoke.
Boromir thought for a bit before he replied.
"I think when I was fourteen that it all came into place. I was going out with
Trowa's sister and making out with Lee at the arcade at the same time. I guess
that was when it fell into place." He smiled slightly before drinking the last of his coffee.
"And you? When did you realize it, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I don't know. I guess when I saw you. I just... felt like you were the one."
Boromir smiled slightly before he stood up, not sure as to what to say to that.
"Do you want to go to Whyte Ave now? I figure we have stayed still enough."
"Sure."
Aragorn wasted no time in drinking the rest of his coffee and following Boromir
out the door.
Once outside, the blond man squinted up at the sun before he spoke to Aragorn.
"You weren't lying when you said that you loved me in the hallway, were you?"
"No. I wasn't."
Aragorn replied, coming close to Boromir.
"I don't lie about serious matters."
"I know that much about you even before we sat down and talked." Boromir looked away at the ravine behind him before he spoke again.
"I guess I owe you an answer now, don't I?"
Boromir asked, turning to Aragorn, who looked at him expectantly.
"Yes. You do. But I have to ask the question properly first."
Aragorn replied, holding out his hand to Boromir.
"So will you stay with me?"
Aragorn asked, his voice sounding sort of scared as he spoke. Even though he
was positive that the answer would be yes, he still felt jittery and nervous as
he waited for the answer to his question.
Boromir laughed softly before he took the offered hand.
"Of course. I'll never voluntarily leave you."
Aragorn cocked his head to one side before moving in closely and giving him a
light kiss that was almost a whisper of a touch on his lips.
"I've never heard someone answer that way, but I'll take it as my answer."
Boromir nodded before he threw his arm around his lover and gave him a peck on
the forehead.
"It's the most honest answer I can give you. And the one I mean the most."
Aragorn nodded.
"You're dangerous, you know."
He commented, half-quoting a song.
"Why? Cause I'm honest? Or because I don't know what I want?"
Boromir teased him, earning himself a hard thwap on the arm for his troubles.
"Let's go to Whyte, shall we?"
"Hurry up, Arwen!" Eowyn complained, shifting her shopping bags from her left hand to her right.
"Yeah, Yeah." Arwen drawled, adjusting the blue-tinted shades she had just bought into her
dark hair before turning to the slightly green Eowyn who was leaning against the
counter of the clothing store waiting for the dark elf to finally get going.
"I thought you liked shopping." Arwen commented as she finally hefted her bags and began walking out of the
store with a dejected looking Eowyn at her side.
"Not when I'm hung-over." The human girl replied testily as they walked down the busy sidewalk.
It was true that she enjoyed shopping most of the time, but having a hangover
and having embarrassed herself in front of Aragorn and that beautiful lanky
blond boy with the laughing emerald eyes had really decreased her enjoyment of
the activity. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep away the day until she
felt like herself again.
"You shouldn't have drank so much then." Arwen commented acerbically as she peeked into another shop. Eowyn took
opportunity of the pause and get her stomach under control.
"I didn't realize you had spiked my drink." Eowyn shot back in reply, flipping her long blonde hair out of her face and
pushing her dark maroon shades up her nose.
Arwen grinned impishly.
"Sorry. I was actually trying to get that little bitch Glorfindel, to tell you
the truth." She gave Eowyn a light nudge before they resumed walking again.
"Which, I might add, you did. The poor bastard was spending time with the
porcelain god when Eomer took us home." Eowyn replied, looking up at the clear sky.
If she hadn't been feeling so shitty, she would have been utterly thrilled
with the weather. It was just so perfect! If only she could have Aragorn to
share it with.
She frowned and turned to Arwen.
"Why the hell do you hate him so much anyways? Isn't he just a quiet little guy
who just paints all the freaking time?"
Eowyn asked as she pictured Glorfindel, his pale face in deep concentration as
he touched up whatever painting he was working on in art class at that
particular time. She recalled him clearly since they shared an art class and
actually were fairly civil to each other there, since Arwen wasn't there.
Arwen turned and looked at her friend.
"Yeah. When he's not around to suck my brother's face. I hate that little queer
bastard."
Eowyn raised an eyebrow at the comment.
"Okay. So why did we flash him and your brother then?"
Arwen's lips curled into a wicked smile.
"I just wanted to get a rise out of them, that's all. You know how Elrohir gets
whenever I have any fun."
Eowyn's lips pursed, but she said nothing. She knew that there was more to that
little incident, but she would just rather wait until Arwen spilled it. The dark
elf could be a real bitch if pressed for any information at all, so she just let
it drop.
"So where else do you want to go?" She asked, tactfully changing the subject.
It was the only way, she had found after years of dealing with the
temperamental elf. Tact and giving in had saved her a whole lot of headaches in
the best of times. Even though they were friends, she didn't really trust her.
The only one that had that privilege was Eomer, and she would never have it any
other way.
"Hmm. Let's go to Southside sound. Maybe they'll have some good stuff there."
Arwen decided.
Eowyn nodded and they continued on their merry way to the used cd store.
Although the place stocked really weird music that neither of them really
listened to, it was still a fun place to look through. Sometimes they also met
fairly cute guys there and it added to their amusement, since they could then
flirt with them as they browsed through the racks.
"The only problem with the place is the fact that it smells like old cat."
Arwen told Eowyn as they pushed the midnight blue door open and entered the
store.
Eowyn smiled for the first time that day and was about to add her two cents
worth when Arwen stopped dead in her tracks, making her stumble and nearly knock
both of them onto the floor.
"God! What the hell?" She asked angrily, straightening herself up after regaining her footing.
Arwen didn't reply. Instead, she walked away from her friend and up two guys
holding hands that were at the far end of the store poring over the punk
section.
Shaking her head, Eowyn followed right behind her in order to prevent Arwen
from doing something really bad to people that they didn't even know. It seemed
that they had been taking turns bailing each other out of trouble recently and
it was quite frankly getting exhausting.
Considering that Arwen was as vengeful as a bloody viper once she felt she had
been slighted.
"Arwen!" What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Eowyn hissed at her friend as she tried to grab her arm and pull her out of the
store before she did something they would both regret later on. But due to her
elven heritage, Arwen easily avoided her friend's hand and marched up to the two
guys.
"Arwen." Aragorn said the name in a weary tone as he put the cd he had been looking at
down. Behind him Boromir had tensed and had let go of his hand. Even without
looking at him, Aragorn knew that he was getting himself into a fighting stance.
He had found out that Boromir was fairly jumpy and would often meet a perceived
threat to by preparing himself for a physical fight.
"What are you doing here?"
He asked her, hoping that she would just pester him slightly and leave him and
Boromir to their date.
It had been going well so far and he was determined to make it end well. But
if Arwen didn't leave soon, it looked like it wasn't going to despite all his
hopes.
"Looking for cds. You?"
She asked, pointedly ignoring the man beside him.
"The same. Boromir wants to buy some cds."
He replied, his voice still polite, but not at all open or welcoming as it
usually was.
"Aa. So are you free tonight?" She asked, still not willing to let it drop despite Eowyn's frown and
Boromir's pointed glares. What the hell was that guy's problem anyways?
"No. I'm going over to Boromir's house. I wanna meet his parents."
Aragorn replied, shifting his eyes over to the International (Noise) Conspiracy
Cd Boromir had given him earlier to look at.
"Why? He's your girlfriend or something?"
Arwen asked, an edge to her voice as she spoke.
"Cause it's a thing you usually do when you're going out with someone."
He replied coolly as he picked up several more cds that they had set apart
before Arwen had arrived.
"You're kidding." Arwen stated flatly, as if she would unmake the situation by stating
otherwise.
Aragorn closed his eyes briefly before he turned back to his ex-girlfriend.
"No. I'm not. Believe it or not, Arwen, Boromir is my boyfriend. Now if you
excuse me, I would like to pay for these."
Aragorn grabbed Boromir's hand and literally dragged the other man to the
counter, leaving a furious Arwen and shell-shocked Eowyn staring after them.
"Come on." Eowyn recovered before the elfin girl and was now doing her best to get her
out of the store before she humiliated herself any further.
Although Arwen let herself be led out of the store, her eyes were still
glittering furiously as she glared at the two men at the counter who were busy
with their purchases and were ignoring her completely as if she hadn't just
talked to them.
"Faggots!" She hissed as she passed them. But neither man paid her any attention. Aragorn
calmly received his purchases and Boromir nodded at the clerk after the bag had
been handed to Aragorn before they left, not even wasting a glance in either
girl's direction.
Arwen and Eowyn exited the store right after, but went in the opposite direction
that the two men had taken.
"Fucken faggot!"
Arwen spat out as she cast a look at Boromir.
"Arwen, calm down." Eowyn ordered her friend. Really, Arwen could be such a bitch sometimes.
"How do you expect me to calm down when that fucken Nancy boy just turned
Aragorn into a queer?" Arwen spat out, her tone so corrosive that it made Eowyn flinch.
"Look, Arwen. Let's go home. There's no sense in talking about it in the middle
of the street. It's not going to change anything at all, Okay. Let's go home."
Arwen was silent for several minutes, her chest heaving with every hard breath
she took before she actually nodded her head at Eowyn's suggestion.
"Yeah. Let's go home. I'll deal with that whore later."
Aragorn sat on the picnic bench with his head in his hands and with Boromir
stroking his hair.
"You don't have to, Estel." Boromir told him. Although his voice was low, it was utterly paining him to
see Estel so hurt by the cutting words Arwen had just called them. He could
handle being called a fag. What he couldn't handle was seeing Aragorn be hurt by
such cruel words.
"I don't want to see you like this. If it's going to hurt you like this, we
can..." Aragorn raised his head and shook it forcefully.
"No." Aragorn stood up and grabbed Boromir's head, forcing the other man to look
into his eyes.
"I just found you, Boromir. I don't care what people call me. What they whisper
about me. They can go fuck themselves for all I care. I'm not going to give you
up so easily now that I've found you, Mein Elskelde. You hear me?"
Aragorn demanded before he drew his stunned lover forward and began to ravage
him in full view of the shoppers and loiterers that thronged around Whyte Ave.
by Jim Morrison
Chapter VIII
The Sweetest Thing
"I don't know what other people see
or what they think is love
But I know what it means to me
I fall in love so easily
And it's hard to let your guard down
Something you never wanted to
But I gave you my heart and if you turned away
I guess I'd be screwed, but..."
ragorn woke up with The Bouncing Souls
playing and with someone's head lying on his chest.
