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When the call came, Fili had been on his way to work.
He listened, expressionless, emotionless, to what the stranger on the other end of the phone told him. “I see,” he said, eventually.
There was a pause. “Mr. Oakenshield?”
Right. That wasn’t how normal people reacted to such news. “I… I apologise. I’m feeling a bit… shocked. I’ll be there shortly.”
Fili hung up the phone before the caller could say anything else, redialling another number completely from memory. Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on his side and instead of reaching a colleague, he instead heard the click of an answering machine.
“It’s Fili Oakenshield. I’m afraid I won’t make it into the office today, my partner has been in an accident. I’m on my way to the hospital.”
The words were so clinical, but right now that was all that holding him together. Most emotions were foreign to Fili, but this one he knew all too well.
Rage.
Yet that rage would serve no purpose when Fili had no release, and would be unlikely to obtain a release any time soon. For now, he had to push it aside.
He made it to the hospital in record time. Probably broke a few speeding laws on the way there, and probably didn’t have enough change for the extortionate parking fees, but all of that was irrelevant.
The only thing relevant was Kili.
Fili pushed his way to the front of the queue and locked eyes with the receptionist. “Kili Durin.”
He watched her eyes flicker to the grumbling people behind him and opened her mouth. His eyes narrowed, and Fili felt no small sense of satisfaction as she seemed to think better of what she was about to say and turned her attention to her computer.
“Ward 5C, room 3. Follow the overhead signs.”
Fili gave her a brusque nod and stalked away. His hands curled into fists and he shoved them into his pockets, trying to rein in a fury that threatened to tear him apart.
If Fili could feel grief, he might have wept at the sight of Kili’s unconscious form.
But he could not. All he felt was his control rapidly spiralling, and he hated every second of it. It was all because of Kili. Before he’d entered into this… domestic arrangement, before the convenient alibi had become something more, weakness had never been a word Fili applied to himself.
Now, he was weak. He was weak because the rage he’d kept a lid on for his whole life was at risk of spilling out, and it was all because of Kili.
It was all because Fili had taken a jagged knife and carved out the chasm where his heart should be, and Kili had filled that void with a love that had contaminated the rest of him. What once was clinical and composed, was now anything but.
His train of thought was lost as Kili stirred, his eyes cracking open. The brown pools were a stark contrast to the pallid skin, almost entirely devoid of colour. “You came.”
Fili glared at him. “Obviously,” he ground out. “What happened?”
“Accident,” Kili’s voice was feeble, tired. “There was a car, it mounted the pavement.”
An accident. A simple accident had almost cleaved Kili from his life. Fili took a huge breath and let it out in shuddering increments. Someone would pay for this.
“No,” Kili said, a little more firmly. “I can hear you plotting from here. Fee, it was an accident. Please.”
Fili wasn’t going to make any such promise, but Kili was hurt and not in a position to argue. He clenched his jaw. “We’ll talk about it when you’re home,” he relented. That was the only concession he could make right now.
Kili’s hand reached out slowly, fingers turned up in invitation. Fili took it without hesitation, and felt some of his anger dissipate at the warmth of Kili’s skin.
“You’re mad,” Kili said.
Fili stared at Kili, wondering if perhaps there was some additional brain damage the nurse had neglected to inform him of. He wondered if maybe Kili had missed the obvious way he had invaded every aspect of Fili’s life. That by accepting him, he had become part of Fili’s ritual as well as part of his life. And the universe had dared try to take Kili from him.
“I think I have a reason to be. You were almost killed.”
“Careful,” Kili slurred. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in love with me.”
Fili’s hand twitched in Kili’s, and for an instant he thought about withdrawing, considered turning away. For the very first time, he felt what might have been construed as shame. Shame that he couldn’t love Kili as he deserved. That anyone else would be distraught right now, but Fili’s primary emotion was fury.
A thousand different responses ran through his head, but he settled on one. “You should leave me, you know. Find someone who can give you what you deserve.”
Even with his eyes half-closed, almost delirious with pain, his face almost as white as the pillow beneath him, Kili managed a brilliant smile.
“Did your morphine kick in?” Fili asked, dryly. “Or are you just relishing the thought of getting away from me?”
Kili hummed, sleepily. “The morphine. But you do love me.”
“You know that… you know I don’t. I can’t,” Fili hissed, and the hand that wasn’t entwined with Kili’s clenched tightly. “I told you, I do feel a… a bond towards you. I like being around you. It tempers me. You make every day a little less unbearable. But that’s all.”
Kili didn’t reply immediately, and Fili wondered if he’d fallen asleep. “You stupid man,” Kili breathed, as the morphine overtook him. “That’s what love is.”
Neither of them brought up Kili’s words again while he remained in the hospital.
But Fili thought of nothing else. Every night when he lay alone in a bed that suddenly seemed much too cold, much too large, he reflected on Kili’s words.
Was that truly how it was, to love someone? Fili didn’t think so. He’d never been able to fathom it as a concept. From birth, he should have unconditionally loved his mother, his father. He had not. He had looked at them and felt nothing but appreciation for their convenience.
So how could it be that Kili was so convinced that what Fili felt for him could be love?
The thoughts consumed him, and it was only when Kili returned to their home that Fili found the answer.
“Tell me you love me,” he demanded, kneeling at Kili’s feet and laying a possessive hand across his knee.
Kili smiled softly. “I love you,” he replied.
“I like hearing that,” Fili confessed. “It thrills me. I can’t understand the way you feel, but I know that it excites me, as if I possess you. That part of you has surrendered to me willingly, and accepts me for what I am. Each time you say those words, it’s a reminder of that satisfaction.”
Kili nods, curiously. “I think I understand.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. That what we have, what I feel for you, is love. I think that out of the two of us, you’re the best person to make that judgement.” Fili trails off, trying to gather the words to explain what he’d come to realise.
“I can’t say if you’re right, Kee. I don’t know if you are. But I know that your place in my life is both irrevocable and irreplaceable, and you deserve to know that. You deserve to hear it. So if that is what you believe love to be, then I love you.”
Kili leaned down and kissed him.
When they finally broke apart, Fili’s hand came up to grasp Kili’s chin, fingers tight as he gazed into Kili’s eyes. “You know that means I’ll kill you if you ever leave me.”
Kili shuddered, and Fili got the distinct impression that was less of a threat than he’d intended it to be. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Then Kili kissed him again, and any further threats Fili might have made were forgotten.