Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or anything associated with the Inheritance Cycle.

Claimer: I, SussieKitten, own this plot and the story. Borrow or steal my plot, my original characters (Aksel) or story and I will report you. I also own my version of Thorn/Saphira's human appearances.

Warnings: Male homosexuality. Female homosexuality. Heterosexuality. Swearing or strong language. Halloween costumes - in particular, Aksel's costume. Consensual incest. If any of this disturbs you, click on the "back" button. I won't tolerate any flames.

A/N I know I said last chapter was overdue. This one...well, this one rather fits the theme of the chapter, which is Halloween. It certainly feels like a story coming back from the dead, am I right?

I want to dedicate this chapter to my dear friend Ace, who inspired me to write this story in the first place. Ace, I know we don't talk much anymore, and that you probably won't see this, but I still want to thank you for inspiring me to write this story. Thank you so much for giving me something funny and heart-warming to write. It's been a real pleasure.

And to the rest of you guys; here, enjoy the long-awaited conclusion to this story. It was due.

And also be warned; this is self-betaed.


Just Another Ordinary Day

Chapter Four

The "Drunk" Incident

It was Halloween. Eragon hated Halloween.

No, that came out wrong.

Eragon hated parts of Halloween. He wasn't the biggest fan of wearing costumes, but he could weather it. Some of the best fun he'd had during various Halloweens had been picking costumes with his friends or going trick-or-treating.

But he wasn't a huge fan of scary movies. That was the one things he could never stomach, no matter how much his friends – Aksel in particular – begged him to give it a shot. Eragon got nightmares easily. Far too easily. And that was if he was able to fall asleep after watching one at all.

And those were just the staples he'd gone through from child to teenager. Now that he was older, Halloween was less about trick-or-treating and more about parties. And if there was one thing Eragon really hated, it was parties.

Unfortunately, his friends loved them. Particularly costumes parties. Especially those held in celebration of Halloween. And they always dragged him along.

"I don't see why you can't just go to the party without me," Eragon said as Saphira and Aksel literally tried to drag him out the door.

"'cause it's not nearly as much fun without'cha!" Aksel said, beaming.

"There's no point in resisting," Saphira said and pulled harder. Eragon yelped as he clung harder to the door-frame. He always forgot how strong Saphira was. "You know we're going to win eventually."

"You won't take me alive!" Eragon cried out.

All the noise must have finally caught Murtagh's attention, as he poked his head out of his room and looked at them. "Ah," he said flatly. "That time of year again, is it?"

"Ya know it, Tagster!" Aksel said.

Murtagh just stared at him. "Don't ever call me that again."

Aksel gulped and saluted Murtagh. "Sir, yessir."

Murtagh sighed and walked out of his room. Eragon could feel himself start to sweat as Murtagh came to a stop in front of him.

"You know this can only end one way, right?" Murtagh said dryly.

"Not if I hold on tight enough," Eragon said, even though his fingers were getting tired.

Murtagh rolled his eyes. He gave Saphira a pointed look over Eragon's shoulder. "Take care of him, will you?"

"Always," she said.

"Great." Murtagh put his hand on Eragon's head and shoved.

Eragon's grip slipped and he fell right into Aksel and Saphira. Aksel yelped, Eragon groaned and Saphira said something that was too quick for Eragon to catch. And in spite of the mass of flailing limbs, they somehow managed to keep from falling over.

"No slutty costumes for him." Murtagh pointed at Eragon. "Remember, I know where you live." And then he grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

"Y'know, there ain't nothin' scarier than your brother around Halloween, man," Aksel said as he brushed himself off. "'n' Christmas, New Year's, your birthday, Alagaësia's Independence Day, the entire summer hols -"

"We get it, Aksel," Eragon deadpanned. "You're scared of my brother."

"Terrified, dude." Aksel patted Eragon's shoulder. "At least get the lingo right."

"Come on," Saphira said and started pulling them along. "We're wasting valuable time. There'll be no good ones left!"

Eragon tried and failed to smile. "Would that honestly be such a bad thing?"

"Unless you want to be stuck with a ghost costume that smells like mothballs and dried semen, then yes, it would be," Saphira said and pulled harder. "Now come on!"

Eragon groaned and reminded himself that he loved his friends, really. He did. Just, on some days more than others, that was all.

-:-

Aksel, being Aksel, immediately found something truly hideous in the bin near the front and proclaimed that he loved it while hugging it to his chest. He practically had hearts in his eyes.

Saphira shook her head faintly. "Come on," she grabbed Eragon's hand and tugged him along. "There's always something in the back."

Eragon cast Aksel another worried look as he was pulled away. Dear god, was that a neon-coloured wig?!

"Shouldn't we try to save him from himself?"

"No," Saphira said simply as she started to go through some of the other racks. "The only way he'll learn is by making mistakes."

Eragon looked around half-heartedly. "Harsh," he muttered.

"You know I practice tough love for your own sakes," she said brightly as she pulled out a costume and held it up. "Hmm," she looked over at Eragon. "This could work."

Eragon took one look at it and recoiled. "No way."

Saphira pouted at him.

"No. Nope, nuh-uh, not even if you paid me!"

Saphira heaved a sigh. "Fine," she said as she put it back. "Be a spoil-sport."

Eragon shuddered. There was not enough money in the world to make him dress up as a zombie. He had nightmares enough as it was, thank you very much.

He turned down Saphira's next couple of suggestions as well. He was not dressing as a doctor, pirate or cop. The first came with a coat, pants and stethoscope but nothing else, because clearly shirts were overrated. The other only came with pants, a plastic sword and boots because as Eragon had already stated, shirts were overrated. And while the last one had a shirt-option, it clearly wasn't designed to be buttoned up. And the one with a proper shirt had shorts that in no world, especially this one, would cover someone's entire ass. (Eragon was sensing a theme with that year's costumes and he didn't approve one bit.)

Seriously, who did Saphira think he was? Murtagh? There was no way he could pull any of those off.

Not, of course, that Eragon was going to share that thought with anyone. He'd never be able to do it without blushing and there was no way he could explain that particular reaction away. It was best to just avoid it entirely.

Saphira found her costume in-between trying to convince Eragon to go for one. Hers wasn't so bad, Eragon thought. Who wouldn't want to dress up as witch? It wasn't even a sexy witch costume.

Sadly, there was no wizard version of it. And even if there had been, there was no way Saphira would have let him get away with dressing up in the same category as her.

"All right, how about this one?" Saphira said and pulled out a new costume.

Eragon opened his mouth to reject it, but never got that far.

"Hey guys, don't this look awesome?!" Aksel said as he walked out of the changing room, looking like something Eragon could only describe as a walking neon-sign. Eragon was sad to say that the wig was indeed as show-stoppingly pink as it had looked in the bag. The top wasn't too bad. That was actually a decent sort of purple shade. But, oh no, was he wearing tiny neon-bright blue shorts? And puke-green tights?! And Eragon really hoped he was seeing things, because those had better not have been yellow leg-warmers.

And somehow, the longer Eragon looked at it the more he found that Aksel's relatively normal-looking converse were becoming the weirdest part of the outfit. At least the rest of the outfit complimented each other...if one could call it that.

And if there was a name for what Aksel was dressed as, then Eragon did not want to know what it was. Some things were best left to the imagination.

Eragon sent Saphira a desperate look.

Saphira only cocked an eyebrow and wiggled the hanger at him. No sympathy to be found there, then.

Eragon groaned. "Fine!" he snapped and grabbed the costume from her. "But I'm not going to like it!"

Saphira just smiled at him.

-:-

Saphira leaned in closer and practically screamed at him, but it was impossible.

Eragon kept his hands over his ears, where they had been for the past fifteen minutes. "What?"

The party was loud. Eragon had been to enough of them to know that parties tended to be on the louder side of things, but there had to be a limit. At some point music just blended together and became one massive blast of cacophony. There was no enjoyment in that kind of music and Eragon was honestly tempted to hunt down whoever was in charge of the volume and give them a piece of his mind.

"Are you having fun yet?" Saphira screamed.

Eragon shook his head. "The music is too loud!" he screamed back.

Saphira visibly fumed. She gestured something behind her and stalked off before Eragon could try to say anything else. Eragon couldn't do anything but watch as people jumped to get out of her way. Whatever she was off to do, Eragon felt for whoever was at the other end.

Aksel had apparently improved upon his costume, or decided to improvise, because Eragon couldn't remember the headphones from the costume shop. Aksel gestured at them and said something, but it got lost in the music.

"What?!"

Aksel grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. Then he was wandering off into the masses like he didn't have a care in the world.

For a brief moment, now that he was alone, Eragon considered sneaking back home. Only the thought of disappointing his friends kept him in his place. As scary as an angry Saphira was, it was somehow worse when she was disappointed.

Eragon noticed the moment the music got turned down. Still, just to be sure, he slowly removed his hands from his ears. His shoulders sagged when the sound stayed at that volume.

Saphira appeared as if by magic. "There," she said, still visibly fuming. "Music taken care of." She let out a breath and smiled. "Now we can start enjoying ourselves."

"You're terrifying and I'm glad you like me," Eragon told her.

Saphira winked at him. "Hey, where's Aksel?"

Eragon shrugged. "He went off earlier. I think he's actually gone deaf since we last saw him because he didn't seem to mind the noise."

"Oh no, I think those headphones of his block sound," Saphira said and put a hand on her hip. "I should have thought of that before coming here."

"...You know, there are times when I think he's secretly very smart?"

Saphira laughed.

Eragon rubbed his hands on the front of the costume to get rid of some of the sweat. "Do we even know anyone here?"

Saphira did something with her shoulders that Eragon was going to interpret as a shrug. "Kind of? I know people from school and our classes have to be around here somewhere, and people from the neighbourhood. But don't ask me where they are, exactly."

Eragon gulped in a very manly fashion. "Don't leave me."

Saphira smiled and looped her arm through his. "Of course I won't, silly."

-:-

"Oh my god, is that Thorn?" Saphira said, eyes wide and unblinking.

Eragon tried to look over his shoulder, but he couldn't spot anyone familiar in the crowd. He frowned at Saphira. "I honestly don't know."

"I think it is," she said and pushed away from the wall. "I thought he wasn't going to come. I have to go check."

"Wait, Saph, no!"

But it was too late. The surrounding crowd had already swallowed her up.

Eragon pressed himself closer to the wall and tried to keep calm. It was ok. They'd seen Aksel earlier and he seemed fine. And Saphira had found him once before. It was all going to be ok.

Five minutes later, and Eragon was getting up on his toes to look over the heads of everyone in the crowd. Saphira still hadn't come back and he was starting to get restless.

If he couldn't find her within another ten minutes, Eragon figured he'd be allowed to call it quits. He could tell her he'd tried, but gotten tired and decided to go home. She'd probably applaud him for not just hanging around aimlessly, practically daring some creep to walk up to him.

"Hi there."

Apparently Eragon had spoken too soon.

The guy in front of him was clearly not sober. And also clearly older than Eragon. Possibly even older than Murtagh.

"I have a boyfriend," Eragon blurted out. He bit back a wince.

First of all, Eragon couldn't lie to save his own skin. This was a proven fact. Second of all, just because the guy looked like a creep didn't mean he was there to ask Eragon to 'hang out' or whatever kids called 'hooking up' these days.

Eragon...didn't have a lot of experience in the hook-up scene. Clearly. The first reason being; Murtagh was his brother. He only had to look at someone and 99% of Eragon's potential suitors ran for the hills. The other 1% ran as soon as Murtagh opened his mouth. The second reason being; Murtagh was his brother. And Eragon really wished he wasn't.

Eragon hadn't been the biggest fan of Catch 22, but it sure did a nice job of summing up his situation.

The creep just smiled. "That's ok," he said and leaned in closer. "I won't tell if you don't."

Oh boy. Eragon really did have the worst luck.

"I mean, I have a boyfriend that I love," Eragon said. Apparently this was the hill he was going to die on.

"And that's ok," the creep said again. He moved closer and was clearly aiming to pin Eragon against the wall. "What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

Eragon judged their height-difference – not to mention the fact that the guy's biceps were the size of Eragon's head – and decided that running would be the best course of action. As Aksel always said when he talked about those horror games of his that he was addicted to (and that Eragon refused to even watch him play); when in doubt, flee for your life!

"What do you think you're doing?" someone growled off to the side.

Eragon's eyes practically jumped out of his skull when he turned and saw who it was. "Murtagh?!"

But Murtagh wasn't looking at him. "Go flirt with someone else," Murtagh snapped.

The guy that hadn't been able to take a hint and leave Eragon alone was apparently not without some sense of self-preservation. He took one look at Murtagh and turned tail and fled.

Eragon breathed a sigh of relief. "I had that," he said nonetheless, because he refused to let his brother become his knight in shining armour.

"Sure you did," Murtagh drawled.

Eragon decided to ignore that. He wasn't going to win that fight anyway. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you, apparently," Murtagh said dryly. "A little thank you would be nice."

Eragon crossed his arms. "Not happening."

Murtagh rolled his eyes.

Now that the danger was over – so to speak – Eragon's gaze apparently found acceptable to wander.

It really wasn't fair how good Murtagh looked. Eragon hated it; he genuinely did. He'd seen a least half a dozen wannabe bikers or something along those lines, but no one pulled it off quite like Murtagh. The leather jacket and combat boots were no surprise as they were a staple in Murtagh's wardrobe, but he'd paired it with a tight tank-top and jeans that had to have been painted on they were so tight. His hair was even that kind of ruffled that Eragon hated on his brother, and save him, was that eyeliner?!

That decided it. Murtagh was actively trying to kill him.

Murtagh looked him up and down. His lips twitched. "What are you wearing?"

Eragon groaned. "Saphira made me!"

"I'll have to thank her later," Murtagh said. He was clearly holding back laughter.

"I hate you."

Eragon's costume was...it wasn't the worst. He'd certainly been tricked into worse by his friends over the years. But it wasn't good either.

"But really?" Murtagh's lips were twitching like he was about to give up and start outright laughing. He poked the ridiculous head-dress Saphira had plonked on his head and threatened with disembowelment if he removed it. "An angel?"

"I'm disowning you."

Murtagh snickered.

Well, Eragon thought, at least every part of him wasn't on display in the robe/dress/toga/thing he was being forced to wear. And he could move freely in it. Others (see: Murtagh) looked like things would start tearing if they so much as breathed wrong.

"I think I saw Aksel on the way in," Murtagh said and pointed over his shoulder. As much as Eragon really didn't want to know what was coming next, he appreciated the subject change. "What is he wear-"

"I like to call it a traffic accident waiting to happen," Eragon deadpanned. "Because I really don't want to know what it's actually supposed to be. Then I'd have to acknowledge that such a look exists."

Murtagh smirked at him. "Fair enough."

"But at least he made an effort," Eragon said and eyed Murtagh pointedly. "Unlike some."

Murtagh cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse you?" He pointed at his face. "Do you not see this? Efforts were made, believe you me."

"You look like a Grease reject," Eragon said because he could never Murtagh the truth. Ever. He'd rather die. "Or a CryBaby stand-in."

"All right, that's it."

Eragon yelped as he was pulled into Murtagh's arms. He felt his cheeks start to burn in the split-second between then and when Murtagh's knuckles made themselves acquainted with the top of his head.

"Murtagh!" he yelped and immediately tried to get free.

"Apologise," Murtagh said calmly, like he wasn't holding a struggling teenager to his chest and wearing down his knuckles on Eragon's skull.

"Never!"

"Then I guess you're here forever."

"Tag!" he whined.

"Get a room you two!" someone called out as they walked past.

Eragon froze. Murtagh wasn't far behind.

His cheeks took that as their cue to turn the heat up to boiling. Eragon was suddenly very glad that Murtagh couldn't see his face.

"...Have you drunk anything?" Murtagh asked flatly. His fingers were still in Eragon's hair.

Eragon frowned. "No?"

"Good." Murtagh grabbed onto his wrist and pulled him towards the kitchen.

Eragon blinked. Whatever was going on, he sincerely doubted Murtagh was going there to get either of them a drink. Especially of the alcoholic variety.

...Right?

-:-

Right. And also wrong.

"Um, Murtagh?"

"Shut up and drink your water," Murtagh said as he downed another cup of whatever horrific alcoholic concoction had been in the bowl that people kept drinking out of.

Eragon, however, hadn't even been allowed near the thing. Murtagh had gotten him a glass of water, put him up against the wall – all the kitchen chairs had magically vanished at some point, or simply been put away in lieu of the party – and told him to drink it. And then he'd started chugging.

Eragon decided not to mention the walking contradiction that was Murtagh. He knew what Murtagh would say, and he wasn't in the mood to hear 'do as I say, not as I do,' fall out of his brother's mouth.

"Should you be -"

"I'm fine," Murtagh lied and refilled his cup.

Eragon put his glass aside and hugged himself. "I'm sure that guy earlier wasn't talking about us."

Murtagh's eyes widened as he stared at Eragon. "Who said anything about that?" The cup crinkled in protest in his hand.

Eragon clenched his jaw. That confirmed it. Clearly Murtagh had been freaked out by that comment, regardless of whether it had been aimed at them or not. And while it had certainly gotten Eragon's own panic-meter going, at least he wasn't trying to give himself liver-failure in the process.

He frowned. Why was Murtagh trying to drink enough for a whole football team again? Clearly Eragon had missed something.

"No one was accusing us of anything -"

"I know that!" Murtagh snapped and the cup he was holding died a violent death. Murtagh swore.

Eragon blinked.

Murtagh swore again. He dumped what remained of the red cup in the trash and started to dry his hands with some paper-napkins someone had laid out at some point. Judging by the logo on them, they'd come from the pizza place down the street.

"I know that," Murtagh said again, sounding much calmer. It was clearly forced.

Eragon bit his lip. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes," Murtagh said, but the force he tried to throw the napkins with said otherwise.

Eragon decided then and there it was time he used the secret weapon he loathed to pull out. It never failed to work on Murtagh, which was why he hated to use it.

"Can we go?" he asked and made sure to look miserable when Murtagh looked over. "I'm not having that much fun and I haven't seen Saphira in at least half an hour and what if that guy comes back again -"

"Fine." Murtagh somehow managed to shove his hands into the pockets on his jeans. "We can leave. But we're walking."

Eragon heaved a soundless sigh of relief. Mission accomplished. He was going to be stuck with an overprotective brother for at least the rest of the Halloween weekend, but at least he could go home.

-:-

"Were you invited?" Eragon asked once they'd finally been able to squirm their way out of the house.

"Is anyone ever really invited to these things?" Murtagh drawled.

Eragon nodded. That was a fair point.

"Where was Saphira anyway?" Judging by the sound of his voice, Saphira was rapidly dropping in Murtagh's regard.

"She saw Thorn."

Murtagh gagged. "Save me from romance."

Eragon snuck a look at him. "Do you have a problem with them?"

"Who, Thorn and Saphira?" Murtagh snorted. "Of course not."

Eragon frowned but didn't comment. Murtagh was clearly in a mood. It was always impossible to get any proper answers out of him then.

Murtagh stayed silent the entire way home. While they didn't live that far away, it was still a long time for Murtagh to stay quiet. Other times when he'd come to rescue Eragon from other parties – regardless of whether Eragon had needed rescuing – he'd always had something to say. Like a comment about the number of people there ("I should have called the fire marshal on them. That shit wasn't safe."), the costumes or people there ("I think I saw someone just wearing a tiny golden bikini and a long wig. A man. I don't know whether to respect him for having that amount of courage or weep because I'm never going to be able to unsee his balls in that thing."), the music ("The fact that some people consider that music hurts my soul.") or the food/drinks ("I'm pretty sure I saw a still back there. Come on, Eragon, we're leaving before you get alcohol poisoning just from breathing the air in here.").

But this time he was silent. And somehow that just worried Eragon more.

Murtagh was silent as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. He held it for Eragon and didn't let it go until Eragon was safely inside.

Eragon watched him take off his boots and hang up his jacket. Then he watched him head deeper inside and move in the direction of what was unmistakeably the kitchen.

Eragon kicked off his own shoes, not even bothering to make them neat the way Murtagh had. He hurried after his brother before he could do something stupid. Like, as Eragon got there in time to see, pull out a bottle of vodka from the freezer and open it.

"You're not fine," he said.

Murtagh paused. "What makes you say that?" he said as he started pouring into a glass Eragon was 95% certain was actually meant for beer. Eragon hadn't even known they'd owned beer glasses.

"Because you're about to drink vodka straight and I know you hate that."

Murtagh screwed the cap back on and lifted the glass. "Watch me."

"That is not what I – Murtagh!"

But Murtagh was already chugging it.

Eragon hurried over and wrestled the glass out of his hands. Murtagh gave it up when he had to bend over the sink and start coughing.

"You're insane!" Eragon shrieked.

"Fuck off," Murtagh croaked.

"Fuck you!" Eragon countered.

Murtagh blinked at him, visibly shocked.

"We have to talk about this," Eragon said and put the glass aside.

"There's nothing -"

"Or I'm calling in the cavalry," Eragon added with a glare.

Murtagh wisely shut his mouth. They both knew who he was talking about. Their mother was not one to be messed with.

"Fine," Murtagh said. He took a few steps away from the sink – and the alcohol, much to Eragon's relief.

"Why were you so bothered by what that guy said?"

"Because!" Murtagh snapped. Judging by the way he flinched afterwards, it had clearly been a genuine reaction. They were onto something now.

Eragon buried the hurt that was trying to build up and took off the ridiculous halo now that he was finally out of the reach of Saphira's wrath. "Because what?"

"Because -" Murtagh cut himself off.

Eragon was vaguely desperate to get out of the stupid angel costume – especially since Murtagh's tank-top was even more dangerous up close and without the leather jacket blocking most of the view – but he knew that the conversation would just linger unfinished if he postponed it.

Even though he wished he wasn't wearing a toga-dress for it.

Murtagh took a breath and let it out. "Because," he said, "people shouldn't assume."

Eragon waited, but apparently that was what Murtagh had decided to go with. "Bullshit."

Murtagh sent him a look. "Language."

"You swear all the time," Eragon began.

"I'm allowed -"

"And that wasn't an answer," he finished. "And also, you're a hypocrite."

"Boo-fucking-hoo," Murtagh snarked. "I answered your bloody question."

"No, you didn't," Eragon said and crossed his arms. "You avoided it."

"I didn't," Murtagh said quickly.

"Yes, you did."

Murtagh's eye was twitching. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." Eragon frowned at him. "Tell me why."

"Because I don't want them looking at us and seeing that!" Murtagh snapped. "It's wrong!"

Something broke inside Eragon's chest. It felt like his heart.

"We're not together and we never will be."

Eragon stopped. He didn't know when he'd looked away, but he clearly had. What he saw when he looked back at Murtagh was not someone who was disgusted. No, Murtagh looked...disappointed. And not disappointed in the world; Eragon was inimitably familiar with that look. This was something else.

Could it be...?

"What are you saying?" he heard himself say.

"That we'll never be together," Murtagh said and there it was again. That hint of weary disappointment. "Because we're brothers."

Oh.

That didn't sound like a new development. That sounded like something Murtagh had ingrained into his very being. Had they been dancing around each other? And if so, for how long? Could they have avoided this entire thing if they'd just talked to each other before?

Well, there was only one way to find out. Even if the very thought of it terrified him. If it went wrong, he could just claim that he'd been lying earlier and that someone had gotten him drunk at the party after all.

Eragon swallowed and closed the distance between them.

Murtagh was watching him warily. "What?"

"Just...let me try something."

Before Murtagh could open his mouth to ask any more questions, Eragon leaned up and pressed their lips together.

Murtagh quickly pulled back, already foaming at the mouth. "What are you -"

"I like you," Eragon said before Murtagh could get properly started on his rant.

Murtagh's mouth fell shut.

"Like that." Eragon licked his lips and his heart skipped a beat when Murtagh's eyes immediately dropped to his mouth. "And I think you might like me too. Like that."

Murtagh didn't speak. The entire time he was silent, angry butterflies were attacking Eragon from the inside. He'd just about decided to move to Mongolia and change his name when Murtagh finally reacted.

"This is a bad idea."

Eragon almost collapsed with relief. That wasn't a no.

"I thought you ate bad ideas for breakfast?" he said instead, grinning.

"Funny," Murtagh deadpanned. "I mean it. Mom would kill me if she found out."

Eragon bit at his lip – partially to think and partially to test something. And yes, Murtagh's gaze dropped again. He definitely liked Eragon's mouth.

"Can't we worry about that another time?" Eragon said.

"I think we should worry about it now," Murtagh said, but he hadn't moved his eyes.

"I think we should worry about it when you aren't buzzed," Eragon pointed out. "Wouldn't that be more fair?"

Murtagh frowned. "I guess -"

Eragon leaned up and kissed him again.

Murtagh allowed it for a blissful couple of seconds before pushing him back gently. "Just because I haven't said no doesn't mean I have said yes."

Eragon blushed. "Sorry."

Murtagh ruffled his hair. "Just something to think about for next time."

Eragon looked up in time to see Murtagh lean in and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. Eragon leaned into it.

Murtagh pulled back slowly.

"I can't believe we been idiots this entire time," Eragon said and put his arms around Murtagh's waist.

"I don't know about you, but I'm never an idiot," Murtagh stated. One of his hands came up and started to play with Eragon's hair. Oh, that was nice. "I was naturally cautious considering -"

"Shut your stupid mouth," Eragon said.

There was a pause. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"...I don't think I like this new side of you."

Eragon smiled into Murtagh's chest. "Too bad. You're stuck with it now."

"Come here you!" Murtagh growled and pulled him up.

Eragon's yelp was swallowed by Murtagh's mouth. He threw his arms around Murtagh's neck and kissed back.

If this was the start of a new trend, then Eragon could definitely say he approved.

Murtagh pulled back reluctantly. "Go get changed," he said and smacked Eragon's ass. "I can't take you seriously in that thing."

Eragon rubbed at his ass. "Only if you change too." He eyed the top in particular.

Murtagh cocked an eyebrow. "Why, are you saying I look bad?" he said and shifted his stance just to show off his muscles.

Eragon maturely stuck his tongue out at him.

"Put that away unless you plan to put it to use," Murtagh said, voice deepening, and Eragon blushed practically on command.

He swallowed. "And if I was?"

Murtagh paused. He cleared his throat and pinched at his nose. "Another time. When I'm not buzzed."

Eragon pouted inwardly. "All right. But I still want to cuddle."

Murtagh looked at him through the gaps in his fingers. "I think that can be arranged."

Eragon grinned and practically skipped towards his room.

Yes, he definitely approved of this new trend. Who knew, maybe being stuck with Murtagh's overprotective tendencies wouldn't be so bad if they came with benefits. Like cuddling and kissing and maybe one day...more.


THE END


A/N And that's it, folks. The end.

It's not terribly realistic, relationship wise, but you know what? Not every story has to be. This was meant to be my funny escape story. A little fluff to balance out the rest of my usual repertoire. And I'm happy with that.

I find it hilarious that Eragon's the one that has to advance their relationship, though. I thoroughly enjoyed writing that lol.

I hope you enjoyed the story. See you all next time. :)

I'm sussiekitten over on Tumblr if you want to keep up with my writing and any general life-posts I occasionally make. I mostly just reblog whatever I like, but Tumblr is where I talk about any fics I'm currently writing or are planning to update shortly.