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Story Notes:
Set in heartofoshun's beautiful 'Maitimo and Findekáno' universe (found here: http://www.lotrfanfiction.com/viewstory.php?sid=9907).

See her lovely photomanip (ch. 2)!
Keyholes


He never tired of watching them.

He shouldn’t, of course, even one as young as he knew that one should not look through keyholes. Indeed he felt a little guilty every time, but then he never really planned to look. It just... happened. This summer, his eyes were at a level with the keyholes, which made it almost impossible to avoid looking through them.

He soon forgot his guilt. The two in the room were so beautiful together that his little sin seemed to pale into insignificance, shadowed by the glory that was his big brother and his... well, what did one call the person one’s big brother liked to kiss?

He knew what a ‘girl-friend’ was, of course (in his short life, quite a few of those had been paraded through their home by his brothers). But it was no girl his big brother was kissing in his bedroom.

Would this mean that his big brother had a ‘boy-friend’, then? He was not sure; his experience was yet limited. Certainly by the time he was old enough to lift one of his father’s heaviest hammers, he would know everything, or nearly everything (because only his father knew everything - this, at least, he did know). However, that wondrous day was still a while off; the large hammers were taller than he, and much heavier.

Boyfriend...

In the kitchen he’d overheard (he tended to overhear things) some of the maids talk about their boyfriends and about kissing. Yet somehow their talk seemed to describe something very different from what he witnessed when he looked through the keyhole.

It did not do justice to the other half of the glorious entity in that room behind the locked door.

He looked through the keyhole again and felt warm inside: His big brother’s hand reached out to push tangled locks away from his boyfriend’s blue eyes and lingered, gently caressing the dark brown hair. He said, ‘My only one’. Just that, nothing more.

And it was enough.

Someday, when he grew up, perhaps somebody would look at him with that same expression in their eyes, and call him their ‘only one’.

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