Chapter Text
He wasn’t going to look at him again. It had been a mistake, looking into those pale, blue eyes. He’d gotten lost in them, lost his ability to speak, he hadn’t even been able to say something scathing when the golden-haired vision of beauty introduced himself as his cousin. He’d just stared like a ninny, mouth slightly open and that damn blush spreading over his cheekbones.
It wasn’t like Finrod was his real cousin, anyway. They happened to share one grandparent, that was all. They were about the same age, but so very different. Finrod was gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, with his long, blonde hair, blue eyes and whippet-like frame. Caranthir knew himself to be fairly good-looking, tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed, but he was as awkward as a fifteen-year-old could be, and that stupid blush made it all worse. He tried to keep cool and calm, he really did, but the blush got him every time, and if it didn’t, his temper did.
His brothers liked to rile him up, especially Maglor and Celegorm. Maedhros had tried to keep them away from him, but he was away at university now and was rarely home. It had become something of a game to them, trying to either make him blush so hard even the tips of his ears were glowing, or make him explode and start breaking things.
Caranthir hated losing control.
Which was why he wasn’t ever going to look at Finrod again, because that made him feel... things he wasn’t really equipped to deal with. He turned his back and fled the garden party, escaping to his room and ducking inside quickly, before his mother spotted him and made him come back and be sociable. He fell onto the bed with a sigh of mixed relief and disappointment. Relief, because he’d made it unnoticed. Disappointment, because... Finrod. He wanted to be around him, and yet... the feelings his lovely cousin (half-cousin!) awoke in him were frightening, disturbing, exciting.
”He’s just a dumb blonde”, Caranthir said out loud. His voice echoed in the room. ”Barbie doll. Princess.” Unfortunately, saying those things didn’t make him feel any better.
There was a quiet knock on the door. Before he had time to growl out the ”go away” hovering on his lips, the door opened and Finrod stuck his head inside. ”Your mom told me where to find you. You ok? Mind if I come in?”
Caranthir opened his mouth to shout at his stupid, pretty, annoying, beautiful and absolutely infuriating cousin (half-cousin!), but shut it again and just stared. The git was smiling at him, and his smile was enough to make anyone melt. Anyone but Caranthir, that was. ”Come on in I guess”, he muttered darkly.
Finrod just gave him another beaming smile, waltzed in and gracefully sank down in the old armchair by the window. ”So, I hear you’re good with your hands... uhhh...” He broke off and actually blushed, a deep red that seemed to begin from someplace around his neck and spread to his high cheekbones and his pointed ears. ”I mean... you do embroidery and model building and stuff... right?”
Caranthir shrugged, but felt a little more secure now that it had been established there were others who blushed as much as he did. Like this gorgeous half-cousin (cousin!) of his. ”Yeah... I’m not doing much needle-work right now, but I’ve got this fabulous model of a Spitfire that I’m working on. Wanna take a look?”