Eliot the Spectacular, High King of Fillory (the_spectacular) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-06-06 06:35:00 |
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Despite being hungover, Eliot shows up for sword practice. Fandral is emotionally hungover and kinda forgot. Oops. They decide to binge watch Tiger King instead because Eliot is a good friend.WARNINGS Fandral's tender feels.
It was a strange thing, this feeling, this hurt. It wasn’t exactly something he’d never felt before, but it had been a very, very long time and having it be caused because of Thor was new. Because of that, he simply didn’t know how to process any of it.
He’d been sitting in something of a daze, disheveled and not at all Okay(™), staring at an open book in his lap but not reading it, when he heard the knock at his door. Fandral’s heart lurched into his throat and he didn’t hesitate at all, setting the book aside to cross over to answer it, fully expecting to see the other Asgardian there -- except. Wait.
“...hells.” He sighed, giving Eliot an apologetic look once it dawned on him that it was Sunday. Their lesson. “I am sorry, I… forgot the day. Please, come in.”
Eliot had dressed for practice, but left the sword of the high king at the door. The magic of it was enough to keep him alive, but it would never equal the thousands of years of experience or Fandral’s Asgardian physiology. Not that Eliot ever really expected to become Fandral’s equal or anywhere near it. The point, still, was to be able to use it in case magic wasn’t an option.
But that would have to wait.
Instead of waiting to be shown somewhere to sit, Eliot went directly to snooping, making sure there was nothing glaringly obvious amiss. He went into the kitchen to see if it was clean, if there were signs that Fandral had eaten that day, if all of his calories had come from alcohol. Of the two, Eliot could have sworn Fandral was the responsible one, so this state of things concerned him.
Once he’d made a note of the situation, Eliot turned to face Fandral, “I can be very nosy, or I can simply be, or I can fuck off entirely if you’re not up for company today.”
He shook his head a little and weakly gestured for Eliot to take a seat, if he wished, falling back into his spot on the couch that he’d been occupying for most of the day so far. “I would like your company, if you do not mind,” he replied quietly once he’d sat. The book he’d been attempting to read was set aside and he slumped back against the cushions, closing his eyes for a moment.
It was clear he had no intention of preparing for their lesson and instead wondered what he could do to nurse the hangover he was feeling. Was it from the mead? Maybe, but it felt more like he’d been completely drained emotionally and generally any sort of alcohol didn’t have that effect on him. After a few beats he opened his eyes again and looked over, letting them fall on the other man, just looking at him quietly though with a very obvious sadness in his eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it, or…?”
He pushed out a quiet sigh that hitched halfway out of his throat, clenching his jaw when he felt another wave of emotion try to surface. “I am…” He had no idea how to even word what it was that he wanted to say. He hadn’t really discussed his private affairs intimately with anyone else because they were just that: private. But now he knew he needed to discuss it, at least where Thor was concerned, and Eliot was offering to listen.
At least for now he was.
“Will it upset you at all if I discuss intimate relations of a sort involving someone else?” He at least wanted to check that it wouldn’t bother him before he spoke too candidly.
They were not exclusive or even really dating. Fandral and Eliot were simply two people who enjoyed one another’s company. It didn’t seem right to think about it any harder than that. He didn’t feel jealousy. At least not yet.
Fandral went on to explain, at least in enough detail, what had happened with Thor. Giving him context regarding the development of whatever it was between them; originally sharing beds with the same women, which had shifted into sharing a bed with one another from time to time, how deep the root of their friendship was but how, it seemed, things had grown into something much more for the both of them.
“He does not seem to think that he can be with me as he does not wish to share me,” he said near the end of it, his voice more hushed now. “Yet this is who I have been for as long as he has known me, but it does not mean I am incapable of love.” There was a pause and he looked back over at Eliot for just a moment. “If anything, I love too easily and too often. It appears to be a problem.”
“I think it’s better to be honest and upfront about what you both want,” Eliot said gently. Which was completely rich coming from him, but perspective was much easier when advising someone else. “Compromise isn’t bad. Whether you choose to be exclusive in the future or, whatever his thing is…” Eliot didn’t want to speculate or speak ill of someone he didn’t know and Fandral clearly cared about it.
“But if neither of you can, it’s better that you were both open about it.” He gave his hand another squeeze. “And that sucks, and I’m sorry.”
“He seemed convinced that I could not feel the same way about him that he feels for me, and yet when I told him that was not the case, he stood firm in his decision. There would be too much jealousy involved on his end and I do…. not know how to be exclusive with someone. I have never done it. Being monogamous is not a part of who I am, which I suppose makes me sound…” He wasn’t sure how it made him sound, exactly. Not good, at least. He sighed again. “It does… suck. Very much.”
Eliot was being careful not to judge this other man too harshly. But winced slightly at Fandral’s retelling of the conversation.
“You not being exclusive does not mean you are unable to love very deeply, or that the love you have to offer is in any way lessened or cheapened. Right? Don’t let his issues become your issues. Just give him the space he needs to work it out. If he can’t see what is plainly right in front of him, he’s an idiot, right?”
Eliot offered a small smile.
“What we have is friendly, and if that level of friendliness ever needs to change, you know I support you one hundred percent. Just make sure he’s worthy of it.”
After a pause he asked, “What’s this guy’s name, again?” Eliot wasn’t sure if he missed that part or not. He might have been a little too intoxicated at the wedding.
But he had also never dealt with the situation of one of them wanting him exclusively. “Thank you, Eliot. I am glad to have you with me, you know. I like what we have and please know that the feeling is mutual about if that ever needs to change.”
There was a pause of his own and he squeezed his hand again, finally settling back into the couch once more.
“Thor Odinson. God of Thunder and all that,” he replied with a half-hearted sort of chuckle.
The recovery was a bit of a stumble. Eliot’s eyes went a bit wide, his lips closed into a tight line, and he nodded his head very supportively.
Fandral was Asgardian. It… made a certain amount of sense, and yet, Eliot hadn’t really considered what Asgardian meant.
His experience with gods was mostly not great. But to Eliot’s credit, he didn’t immediately bolt for the door either.
“He did tell me that this is his burden and not mine, so I do not think he faults anyone but himself for how he feels. It still hurts though, in a way I did not expect to hurt. And I do not know how this will affect my friendship with him either. Would it even be possible to go back to how we used to be?” He shrugged a little, half-heartedly in response to his own question.
“But is that really what you want?” Eliot asked gently. His tone suggested he didn’t think so. Why else would Fandral seem so despondent about the situation? “Give him time, don’t close any doors, and maybe it doesn’t have to go back.”
Fandral turned his head to look over at Eliot and gave him a small, gentle smile, loosening his hold on the other man’s hand enough to lift his own to brush the back of his fingers against El’s cheek sweetly. “I could never close any door on him, I hope he realizes that.” There was a small pause then and he let that same hand drop to the other’s knee, squeezing it. “I am glad you are here.”
It seemed contradictory that Eliot leaned in to kiss Fandral sweetly. To Eliot it made perfect sense. It was friendly, in that, it didn’t demand more of his friend. Eliot took the same care in his kiss he would have for any lover he thought fondly of. In a world where people might be able to express vulnerability more readily, it was just that: an honest expression of care.
He pulled away slowly.
“I can stay if you want the company?” He had no particular thoughts on what they would do. He genuinely just liked Fandral.
“I would like that very much.” The answer was honest and not at all suggestive — he really did just want him to stay and keep him company, no matter what that looked like.
Then he let out a short, only mildly amused sort of laugh. “I fear I am out of mead, but if you would like something to drink, I have other options and would be glad to get you something?”
And that was how Eliot and Fandral became emotionally invested in The Tiger King.