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The White Tree Café sat nestled in between two much taller tower apartments, its whimsical design making it stand out in the otherwise typical city. The inside was designed in every way to give the idea of cozy. There was a fire in the fireplace, soft chairs around the room. The tables and counters were all wooden. Even the coffee mugs had cozies in a soothing blue with the white tree and stars logo knit into them. There were also books for anyone to grab and settle into. Each window was decorated by plants, their beautiful vines winding along the window seats. It was all Faramir’s design. His brother and co-owner, Boromir, had a mind for business, but Faramir had an eye for what made a place feel like a sigh of relief.
Faramir walked to the window, speaking softly to the plants as he watered them. He loved bringing even this small bit of nature into the city, loved creating a space that encouraged people to slow down and relax. His eyes went out the window and he caught sight of a motorcycle pulling up at the curb. The man who got off it had long blonde hair and a beard. His leather jacket did little to hide the muscles rippling underneath. Even less was hidden when he tugged his t-shirt up to wipe the sweat off his brow, showing off a tanned six-pack in the process.
“Do you mean to drown the shrub, Fara?”
His brother’s voice rocketed him back to attention and he looked down to see he was in fact, overwatering the plant. He pulled the watering can back and moved it over to the next plant, his cheeks heating with embarrassment.
Boromir was looking at him with an amused smile. He walked over and looked out. “Him?” He leaned, way too obviously, to get a better view.
“Brother, he’ll see you,” Faramir fussed, his eyes wide. Boromir looked back and smiled in amusement.
“So it was him you were gawking at?”
“Brother.”
Boromir laughed and slapped his shoulder fondly, “Don’t worry, little brother. It is not as if he is…oh, would you look at that. He’s coming in here.”
Faramir’s eyes widened, but before he could react, Boromir was maneuvering him toward the counter.
“Think you can take his order?”
Faramir shook his head and Boromir’s amused smile only grew.
“You brew the coffee then.” Boromir moved to stand by the cash register as the bell over the door rang and the earth-shatteringly good-looking biker came in.
The man sauntered up to the counter, dropping his hand onto it so he could lean forward.
“Welcome to the White Tree,” Boromir said. “Don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
“New in town,” the man said. Faramir watched his eyes go from Boromir, to the menu, and over to Faramir himself. “You two related?”
“That we are,” Boromir replied, smiling wide at him. “I’m Boromir, and that is my younger brother, Faramir. Brilliant, caring, and an absolute artist with a coffee machine.”
Faramir closed his eyes, trying to block out this over-the-top performance by his brother who seemed dead set on making him die of embarrassment right there in the café. When he opened his eyes, the man was just smiling at him. Between that smile, this man’s eyes, and the way Boromir was talking, Faramir resigned himself to not being able to get a single word out of his mouth while the man was here and possibly for a long time after.
“You didn’t mention his grey eyes,” the man said, and Faramir felt heat rise to his cheeks. Boromir was practically beaming.
“And what can I get you?” Boromir asked.
“What do you recommend?” the man asked, his eyes never having left Faramir.
“Uh…” Faramir managed to get out. He tried again, “Coffee.” Faramir closed his eyes and wondered if it was too late to install a trap door so he could fall straight through the floor, but the man merely chuckled.
“How about a latte, and you can just surprise me with the details,” he said, “I’d love to try some of your art.” The man, mercifully, paid and went off to a table by the window. Faramir let out a breath and his brother gently bumped against his shoulder.
“If he keeps coming in, maybe next time you’ll figure out how to say two words,” Boromir said, smiling at him. “Coffee.”
“And you were helping?” Faramir asked.
“Great point,” Boromir leaned on the counter, “Hey, newcomer. Name for the cup? Maybe I can also add your number and if you’re currently single?”
Faramir closed his eyes again. Sometimes, if he kept them shut long enough, he could imagine he was in a forest with a river that wound its way around rocks. This time, he could not quite get the peaceful mental escape to materialize. Instead, he let out a breath and focused on making a latte—nutmeg and cinnamon. He spent a while creating an image out of the foam, a white tree this time, with stars spreading out above it.
When Faramir turned back around the man had returned to the counter and held out a napkin to him.
“Your brother is transparent,” the man said.
“I’m sorry about him,” Faramir said, happy to discover the words came out after all. The man shrugged and shook the napkin. Faramir took it from him and offered the coffee in return.
“Beautiful,” the man said, “So you are an artist. See you soon, Faramir.” With that, he tipped his chin and made his way out of the coffee shop. Faramir let out a breath and unfolded the napkin.
Éomer the napkin read followed by a phone number and one more word, single.
Faramir folded the napkin and pressed it to his chest for a moment before slipping it into his back pocket.
_-_-_
The next day had that weekend bustle and Faramir let himself get lost in the ebb and flow of making coffee and talking with the regulars. He distracted himself enough that he did not look up with butterflies in his gut every time the bell rang. Mostly.
One of the rings brought in their most loyal regulars, Boromir’s childhood friend, Aragorn, and his two partners, Legolas and Gimli. Aragorn had the tendency to work odd jobs, but no matter what his current task was, he somehow always seemed a little dirty. Today, he walked in wearing a Henley with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans tucked into dirty boots. He walked over, hands in his pockets as he smiled. Gimli came in next, deep in an argument with Legolas. Gimli was short with a beard and a flannel shirt that he insisted he was wearing before it became hipster chic, but he could not quite convince anyone of that. Legolas always looked like he strutted right off the runway with his perfect light blonde hair and his clothes that sat on top of the latest fashion trends. The three of them had been in a somewhat disastrous but deeply loving poly relationship since college. They were incredibly codependent, but Faramir had the sense that their love ran deep and true, even if two-thirds of the polycule hardly breathed without arguing.
“Hello Faramir, working alone today?” Aragorn asked, tilting his head to the side in a way that made more than a few people assume he was coming on to them. Boromir had long ago explained that Aragorn just flirted as naturally as breathing, it meant nothing.
Faramir was not so sure that this was always the case. At least, not when it came to Aragorn’s intentions toward a certain older brother of his.
“Boromir is just resupplying, he’ll be out in a minute,” Faramir said, “Hello Aragorn. Legolas, Gimli.”
The other two looked up from their arguing.
“Hello, Laddie,” Gimli said, coming to the counter. “Can you tell this man here that drinking orange juice with pulp is a sign of a sociopath?”
“Hello, Faramir,” Legolas said, leaning his hip on the counter and tilting his nose up. He often came off as stuck up, but Faramir knew him well enough to know it was not really the case. “You are a learned man. So surely you can explain to my boyfriend that the pulp adds nutrients.”
Faramir smiled, “The usual for you three?”
“Go ahead and get them, I’m deciding,” Aragorn said, but Faramir did not miss the way his eyes kept shooting to the door to the backroom.
Faramir smiled. He was certain that Aragorn had been trying to catch Boromir’s eyes for at least as long as Boromir had been bemoaning that Aragorn would never look at him that way.
The barista started working on their drinks—a matcha latte for Legolas and a dark roast coffee, black, for Gimli.
“Did I hear you have found yourself a beau, Fara?” Legolas asked, cutting Gimli off mid-sentence to focus back on their barista.
“A…no, not at all,” Faramir replied.
“Your brother definitely said you got a phone number,” Gimli agreed. Faramir let out a breath. Not for the first time, he wondered if his brother and their friends had a newsletter about him.
“Someone may have given me his number,” Faramir said, looking down at the counter, “But nothing more.”
Aragorn leaned across the counter and took Faramir’s hand. “I hope it becomes something. You deserve to be loved.”
Faramir pulled his hand back, ducking his head as he finished the latte and passed it to Legolas. Aragorn had a tendency to be just as aggressively overprotective of him as Boromir. It could be a lot, to say the least, but he felt the love of it.
Before Faramir had to try and find a way to answer, the door to the back room opened and Boromir came out with an arm full of baked goods. “Aragorn,” he said, nodding his chin at the man.
“There you are,” Aragorn said. Faramir envied the way they could be so easy with each other. His brother never seemed tongue-tied, not even once, since he realized his affections for Aragorn ran in a more romantic than friendship direction.
Boromir sat down the muffins and smiled. “Are we still on for soccer after?”
“The sun is out and so am I,” Aragorn replied. Boromir laughed and the two fell into an easy banter. Faramir shook his head and glanced up to find both Gimli and Legolas watching them too.
“Do we think this is when they figure it out, laddie?” Gimli asked. Faramir smiled.
“They will, in their time.”
Legolas got off the counter. He did not say anything, but anyone who knew him as well as the people in this room could see. Even in his stillness, he was restless. Legolas had ADHD. It was an issue of contention with his father who thought of him as lazy and undisciplined. The man did not see what Faramir could. Legolas’s father was the kind of person that thought you could always tell these things, that because Legolas was not prone to fidgeting or restless movement, he could not truly be ADHD. Faramir knew better. Legolas found himself often bored, but when something caught his attention, he had a hard time breaking his focus on it.
Faramir knew it was part of the reason Gimli tugged him into arguments. Arguing with Gimli kept Legolas grounded and focused. It was sweet, if you knew what you were looking at. It was love, even if it did not seem like it to those not in the know.
Legolas wandered to the window and stared out of it.
Gimli watched him go for a moment and then looked back at Faramir as the barista passed his coffee to him. “Aragorn is right, laddie. You have a big heart and you’re always thinking of others. At some point, you got to start figuring out what there is for you.”
Faramir smiled softly, “Thank you, Gimli.”
“Now…Legolas, don’t think you have distracted me from your truly unhinged orange juice opinions, lad,” Gimli said making his way to the window to draw Legolas back into an argument. Faramir watched him and Gimli, the way they would rather argue about inane topics with each other than talk with almost anyone else—with the exception of Aragorn. Faramir turned his attention to Aragorn at the counter, leaning both arms on it until he was practically in Boromir’s airspace as they talked, too loudly for how close together they stood. Aragorn was looking at Faramir’s brother like the sun had started shining the moment he smiled. He watched as Aragorn glanced over at his two partners arguing and smiled, so fond, so full of love for them, before turning his attention back to Boromir.
Faramir thought, maybe, he wanted someone who looked at him the way these men looked at each other.
He had loved before, or really, Faramir had tried to find love before. Nothing had ever felt right in the way the people around him seemed to be in love. Sometimes he felt that maybe, love was simply not going to find him. Even as he thought this, he found himself hoping the bell above the door would ring and Éomer would walk in.
The bell rang.
Faramir’s eyes went to the door, but it was simply someone coming in to join their party at a table in the corner. He let his shoulders drop and turned back to arranging the muffins Boromir had forgotten about. When the bell rang again, he told himself, he would not look up. It was foolishness to get his hopes up so many times just to have them dashed.
“Hello, Faramir.”
His heart caught in his throat and he turned around to find it was, in fact, Éomer standing at the counter.
“I was wondering why you didn’t call, but then I realized it had only been a day and also I never asked you if you wanted to call,” Éomer said, “It was both less direct and more forward than I meant to be.”
“No, it was…” Faramir found himself once again struggling to answer.
“Let me try again?” Éomer asked.
Faramir nodded and was rewarded when Éomer’s smile burst out of him like light.
“Faramir, my name is Éomer. We don’t know each other yet, but I’d like to. I’d like to take you out when your shift ends.” Éomer raised an eyebrow, “Better?”
Faramir sunk into a smile. “I would like that.”
“As co-owner,” Boromir said, “I declare his shift is over.”
Faramir turned to see that not just Boromir, but Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were watching them. He sighed.
“Guys…”
“He’s right, Legolas will take over,” Gimli agreed.
“Legolas will do what?” Legolas said.
“Are these yours?” Éomer asked, his smile beyond amused.
“This is my…” Faramir began to search for the word to describe these men, “My family.”
“Go, brother,” Boromir said then. Faramir shook his head, but Éomer was looking at him hopefully.
“Did you want to go out now?” Faramir found himself asking. Éomer’s smile, somehow, grew.
“I would love that.”
Faramir walked over to his brother and handed him his apron. “I will go,” he said to Boromir in a low voice, “But you have to promise to do one thing.”
“Is it not change the menu item names while you’re gone? Because you must admit that was funny.”
“Yes…don’t do that,” Faramir replied, “But in addition to that. If I go out with this perfect stranger you have decided to push me toward, you have to finally ask Aragorn out.”
Boromir looked about to protest, but Faramir raised his hand.
“Brother.”
Boromir let his hand fall, “Fine.” He turned to Aragorn, looked him straight in the eyes, and said. “My brother has it in his head you want to date me.”
Aragorn looked directly into his eyes. “I do.”
It was truly something, Faramir realized, seeing Boromir rendered speechless.
Faramir ducked his head in amusement and looked to Éomer, “Give me a second to change.” Faramir was glad that he had brought a change of clothes for after his shift.
_-_-_
Éomer waited outside the coffee shop. When he had moved to this city, Éowyn made him promise he would try to start dating again, but he had not expected to fall so hard for the first man to serve him coffee. He looked up as the coffee shop door opened and Faramir stepped out. He was wearing a green knit sweater that looked so soft, Éomer wished he could reach out and touch it.
“Ready?”
Faramir nodded and they started to walk. They started talking then. Éomer told him about his sister back home on the ranch their uncle owned. How she was probably riding her horse at this very moment. He told Faramir about how he missed his own horse, and felt a bit like a traitor for leaving him to come to the city.
In turn, Faramir told him about his brother and the family they had chosen. Faramir was reserved, Éomer could tell, but he was determined to be the kind of man that Faramir could open up to.
By the end of the night, he felt like he had known Faramir forever and he found Faramir was opening up to him more and more.
“You seem close,” Éomer said of the two brothers.
“Very,” Faramir replied, “Boromir has always been there for me. We…” he glanced over and seemed to weigh his words. “It is heavy for a first date.”
“I’d love to hear it,” Éomer replied, “If you wish to tell it.”
Faramir considered him a moment more. “Our father was…a difficult man to live with, for me especially. Boromir moved out the minute he turned eighteen and he took me with him.” He ducked his head, “You’re definitely not supposed to have your little brother living in your dorm room, but luckily, Boromir was put rooming with Legolas. Aragorn and Gimli were just across the hall. We became family there.” Faramir’s smile was warm and fond.
“So you two introduced Legolas to Aragorn and he introduced you all to Gimli?”
“And now the three of them are dating and probably Boromir is going to start dating Aragorn,” Faramir smiled, “It all…fit. We all fit.”
Éomer smiled, “That’s beautiful.” He thought, if things worked out with Faramir, maybe he could fit with this little family too.
He offered his hand to Faramir and the man took it in return.