five times shared: ( five times the receiver shared something (either a material or feelings or secrets!) with the sender ) hehe
five times drabbles | accepting (pls)
As he steps into the kitchen, still dressed in pajamas and rubbing the sleep from his eye, he starts at the sight of EirĂk there. He hadn't been expecting anyone — of course, his brother is always welcome, and he is constantly leaving his door unlocked (which he knows EirĂk knows). But it still caught him off guard, especially as it has been weeks since he had last seen or heard from him.
More than anything, once the adrenaline eases off, he is just thrilled to see him. This is nothing new for them — but it still makes him so happy to see him back.
"Hey." Fannar's smile is broad and warm, clearly glad to see him even though he does not say it outright. What a great start to the day. He steps further into the kitchen and leans past him to flip the coffee machine on, and then asks, "will you make enough toast for me, too, please?"
---
It is quite infrequent that he should actually go out horseriding. It isn't that he doesn't like the animals - he's very fond of them, actually - but in ReykjavĂk there are simply fewer opportunities other than for tourists, and by the time he gets out to a stable in Selfoss he could have already hiked up Esjan. He prefers hiking, in the first place.
But he knows that EirĂk likes riding, and when he visits the north he is certainly not averse to it, either. It is nice, doing something he rarely gets the chance to.
"Keep your heels down," EirĂk calls back, and Fannar adjusts accordingly.
He knows what he is doing, and Fannar trusts him.
---
"Is that mine?"
"No, it's mine."
"I'm pretty sure that's mine."
"No, look," Fannar answers, picking it up and pointing to the black stitching just under the collar. "It's black. This one is mine."
"I have one just like that," EirĂk answers. It hardly matters — they both wear an ungodly number of lopapeysur, but it does make doing laundry infinitely more difficult when visiting one another. They wear different sizes, of course, with EirĂk having a good height advantage over him, but Fannar wears his oversized. It's confusing.
Fannar is the one to start laughing.
---
It is snowing outside. They are in ReykjavĂk, rather than Akureyri, but it is still cold enough — Fannar's little flat is warm, though. They sit on either end of the couch, a comfortable silence between them. That is something he cherishes with his family, the quiet that does not feel stifling. Fannar is knitting, working his way through the cuff of a sweater, when he reaches to the back of the couch where a throw blanket is draped, and tugs it free.
It is draped half over himself, and half over EirĂk. It is an almost automatic movement, and Fannar returns to his stitching as soon as it is comfortably in place. He does not break the silence.
---
One of the things they have in common (though they are not short of these things, despite their differences) is their love of the highlands. Of course, living on opposite sides of the country meant that they each had their favourite places to go in the highlands - the beauty of the Icelandic countryside is just so vast.
When they go out there, it is usually to decompress, and they rarely go together. Fannar suspects that they wouldn't be averse to it, but it just doesn't happen. EirĂk goes out there to get away, and Fannar goes out there to be alone.
Although he is alone as he stands at Gjáin, the wind at his back, he knows that this love for the highlands is something they share.
