A/N: I hate author's note saying that the author is sorry for the long wait. I really do. But, all I can say right now is that… I am truly sorry for the long wait :) This update took me almost two weeks, and that's a negative record. Anyhow, here it is at last.

Personal checklist for Damned-Like-Beauty:

Is my family securely assembled in the living room, calm and relaxed? Good

Is my boyfriend tied to the bed, unable to move? Good

Are there any sharp items in the house that could cause injuries? No? Good

Okay, you may read now xD

Home is where the heart is

"There he is." Murtagh honked and pulled over, then honked again.

Eragon watched his brother sceptically. "He's standing in plain sight, staring, no, glaring at us. Why are you honking?"

"Thorn psychology, Eragon." Murtagh honked again. "We're ten minutes late, which usually doesn't matter, but he looks pissed off now. So the more I honk," he did it yet again, "the more I give him the feeling that he has messed up somehow. It usually works just fine."

Eragon shook his head and smiled. He leaned back contentedly, deciding that Murtagh was not only capable of handling the angry bear awaiting them, but also responsible for getting him angry in the first place. He had no idea what had taken his brother so long before leaving; after all, he still had clothes back home for exactly this case of him coming over. Suddenly he realized, though, that there was a faint possibility of one or two items of clothing having wandered into his closet, and he made a mental note to check that later before Murtagh had a chance to notice.

The Mustang came to a rather abrupt stop that send Eragon jumping when he realized that he would have to let Thorn in. Sure enough, the tall man was already at his door and almost yanked Eragon out. He then climbed into the backseat with a low rumble of curses that neither one of the Riders could decipher. Murtagh just smiled at his brother and shrugged his shoulders.

"Eragon! Get back in!" Thorn barked, before his features softened a little. "Really, Taggy. Don't you make me feel guilty ever again for being late. Here you are, ruining my reputation."

"What reputation, Thorn? The one Saphira is all too familiar with since she's known you closely for so many years?" Murtagh winked in the rear view mirror, at the same time enjoying the feel of the gas pedal giving way under his foot. He felt Eragon watch him and his mood got even better.

"Funny. Of course I mean my future reputation. I said I would be on time. I can't be late on… well, I can't be late. Period."

"Late on what? First date? Aww, Thorny, how cute!"

"Leave me alone! I'm just visiting."

"Don't worry," Eragon cut in, his eyes never leaving Murtagh. "I'll message her that we're a little late. I often am, so she will conclude the right thing." Murtagh glanced over for a split second and Eragon's heart missed a beat. They had not said a single word about what they had learned this morning, yet something had changed. Was changing. Eragon had no idea what exactly was going on, but their usual, deeply affectionate brotherliness was now accompanied by more, though it was still fragile and he did not dare pondering about it.

"Good," Thorn grumbled, though he was indeed pacified. "Anyhow… You two are best friends right?"

"Sure. Just like you and Murtagh, only that we're being nice to each other and care about the other's feelings and so on." Eragon grinned, thoughts turning to the blonde. Happy as he was for her, he could not wait to tell her his news.

"Tss. We're being nice enough." Thorn reached out and ruffled through Murtagh's hair, who reacted by slapping the hand bothering him. "He's courted me so many times and I'm still at his side, doesn't that mean anything?"

Eragon's eyebrows shot up. Was Thorn being serious?

Murtagh's mouth twitched upwards in an ironic smirk. "In your dreams, Thorn, in your dreams. I do have taste." With a pleased sigh he entered the highway, again accelerating. As they were a little late, he thought it was perfectly justified to ignore the speed limits for a while.

Thorn simply laughed. "Whatever. But what kept you so long in the fist place? Couldn't stop making out?" When his jest was greeted with deadly silence, he looked up. "Uhm, did I miss something?"

Eragon recovered first and turned around disapprovingly. "What part of being brothers don't you understand?"

"Relax, tiny. I was joking." Yet Thorn's eyes flickered to Murtagh's in the mirror, and when he saw his friend's silent plea to quit the topic he knew something had happened.

"Good." Eragon turned around again. "Could I use your phone once more?" This was directed at Murtagh. "And yes, I will start carrying around my charger from now on."

Murtagh reached into his pocket and handed Eragon his cell. "You're ruining me, little one. I expect compensation." His joke failed just as Thorn's had and he exchanged a nervous, apologetic smile with his brother.

Eragon ignored all implications and instead texted Saphira. sry, we're late. don't blame it on your sweetheart. need to talk to you later. love ya. Era Without thinking he slipped the cell into his own pocket before he focused on Murtagh again. How could it possibly be that someone so handsome was so close and… reachable? He had declined driving today, eager to simply watch Murtagh and at the same time convinced he would not be as concentrated on the road as the other was.

The vibration alert of an incoming message interrupted his musings. The cell was dangerously close to what defined him as a man and he blushed heavily, becoming aware of where his thoughts had led him. Are you speeding? Tell Murtagh to slow down and don't say sweetheart! Unless you refer to Murtagh that is… What happened?? Eragon's head shot up and he looked at Thorn once more, noticing the older boy playing with a cell in his hand. He blushed anew. He was not used to Saphira knowing more about a situation than what he himself told her. did I msg you or my mother? Murtagh is getting us home safely. pls ignore all that Thorn has written you. I'll tell you later.

"What's wrong?" Murtagh watched Eragon closely, noticing his discomfort. "What the hell is she writing to make you blush like that? Perhaps I need her to tutor me…" Eragon was truly delicious like this.

"Murtagh!" Thorn rolled his eyes. "I don't want to know. I just don't. And leave Saphira alone."

"Relax. I don't like girls."

"She's pretty enough to change all that."

"I don't think so."

"Are you saying she's not pretty?"

"Thorn…"

Eragon chuckled quietly and ignored the further bantering. Murtagh wanted to make him blush? He could have that. The phone vibrated again and Eragon frowned. Oh, all protective now, are we? By the way, I got both the cut and uncut version of Arya's tape recorder. I'm proud of you. Steve's done! Love you! Eragon's frown deepened. "Is there anyone that Arya has not sent the sound file? Thorn?"

"Erm, no. Got the email this morning. I mean, it's not like I wasn't there or anything, or that I was the one who taped it, but she sent it to me nonetheless."

"Eragon." Murtagh's low voice and reasonable tone erased the wrinkles on his brother's face. "We already talked about this. It's a good thing, and I'm sure that by now you know of everyone that has been informed. Saphira you would have told anyways, and as things are, that's how Thorn would have learned, too."

"Shut up!" Thorn mumbled.

"Yeah…" Eragon sighed. "Reason tells me you're right, it's only that it's embarrassing."

"That's what you think. From what I heard, I think it was a clear and definite final stroke. Wait a week or two…" Murtagh snorted. "No, make that a month or two. Anyhow, one day you'll thank her."

"One day." Eragon confirmed, though Murtagh's words calmed him. His brother's opinion was what mattered most, after all. "Hmm." He chose to change the topic. "Music, anyone?"

"Fine with me." Murtagh was smiling to himself. He was going home, together with Eragon, at a point of time when their future perhaps held more than only the family tie. He was sure he had never been as willing to put up with his brother's taste of music.

"Nooo," Thorn groaned. "Please don't! Here's the deal, tiny. I've spent considerable time in front of the mirror today." He said it so boastfully that both brother's felt the need to nod in agreement, silently acknowledging the effort and its result. "And if you go for Backstreet Boys now, all my hairs will stand on end and uncontrolled disgust might contort my features and-"

Thorn had hit the mark regarding one of Eragon's soft spots. "That was years ago!" He nearly yelled. "A lifetime ago! I'm freakin' seventeen!"

Murtagh started to laugh, remembering clearly the incident eight years ago at his birthday party. It had still been a children's party, of course, but they had all considered themselves far too old for that. At one point, young Eragon had stormed upstairs, locked himself up in his room and had begun to blast said boygroup as a response to Thorn calling him the only child present. It had been raining that day and so the whole, exclusively male party had had to endure the ordeal in the living room. Eventually it had been Selena, threatening her youngest with God knows what, that had convinced Eragon to stop the music and sulk in silence.

"Sweet Jesus!" Thorn was laughing, too. "Still able to produce a lot of noise, he?" It was far too funny to tease Eragon.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Eragon saw that his effort was futile, yet he was desperate to cover up that incidence. "Please?" he added quietly, making himself sound helpless, and sure enough Murtagh stopped right away, sending him a warm smile. Thorn, however, laughed on. Eragon grinned back at his brother, openly admitting his cheap deceit. Then he leaned forward and checked the glove compartment, finding an album of HIM. That would do the job just fine. He inserted the CD, hit play, and turned up the volume of the back speakers until he could not hear Thorn anymore. He did not know, though, whether that was due to the immense noise or to Thorn actually having stopped laughing.

Murtagh reached out with his right hand and covered Eragon's left, which was still on the control panel, and both stilled at the contact. Then he slowly turned down the volume. "Shutting up biggie is a good thing, but I'd like my ears to survive it." He broke the contact and tugged at his hair self-consciously. He had spent more time than usual in the bathroom this morning, and had also dressed carefully, but so far Eragon had not commented in any way. Did he not like it? Or was he simply too shy? Matters were different now than Murtagh was used to and that unnerved him.

Eragon smirked. "She's going to like it, Murtagh. No need to be all fidgety." His brother had indeed not been his usual confident self today and although Eragon knew that he was the main cause for it, he still wanted and needed the composed, cool Murtagh back.

"Huh?"

"Your hair. You keep tugging on it."

"With 'she' you mean mom?"

"Sure. It's not like she won't let you in now that it's an inch shorter." Eragon thought that Murtagh was truly worrying about the wrong things.

"Well," Murtagh shrugged his shoulders, "if you say so." He did not dare to inform Eragon that he had completely misinterpreted the situation. Instead he focused on the fact that his brother had actually noticed the little change. "Do you like it?"

What a question! "Yeah, I like it." Eragon cocked his head, observing Murtagh closely, noticing how the raven black hair fell in soft strands, just covering the ears. "But you know, you could pull of a whole lot of styles. Won't make you any less…" He did not finish the sentence, his hands suddenly clammy.

"Make me what?"

Eragon smiled shyly and only mumbled the answer. "Attractive." He looked quickly away and out of the window. To his relief Murtagh did not make any comment.

Unfortunately, Thorn had overheard it.

"Stop! Am I allowed to talk again, Mister I'm-into-dark-and-loud-music-these-days?"

"Uh, yeah," Eragon told the window.

"Good, 'cause I think we should spent the time remaining with something useful and not with… whatever it is that you guys are doing there in the front. Saphira, for example." Thorn pronounced the name softly.

Against his will Eragon had to smile again, embarrassment retreating. "What about her?"

"Well, we've talked a lot yesterday, really, but I feel like I still don't know anything."

"Go ahead."

"What's her favourite food?"

"Fruit salad or loin of venison, depends." Eragon turned his head again and found Murtagh looking at him, pointing his chin in the direction of Thorn and rolling his eyes.

"Venison? Help!" Thorn's voice was a pitch higher than usual. "Where can I get that? Anyway, does she prefer cats or dogs?"

Eragon burst out laughing. "For food?"

"Don't make me strangle you!"

Eragon raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, Thorn. You're too cute. Cats, actually. But also her uncle's dog."

"Yeah, so, err, what does she like guys to wear?"

Murtagh shook his head, grinning. Carvahall was close now, but he raced on, determined to save his brother as soon as possible from the interrogation.

Soon they were at Saphira's, Eragon deeply annoyed and Murtagh lost in thought, having left the conversation ages ago. Thorn, however, was a bag of nerves, albeit a positively excited one. Eragon walked him to the door, greeted his friend with a tight hug and then backed down, watching Thorn and Saphira nervously embrace each other. He applauded quietly behind Thorn's back - which earned him a radiant smile from Saphira - before he turned around and walked back to the car, eager to get warm again.

"Eragon!" Saphira called and waited for him to face her. "Don't think you're getting away so easily." She grinned mischievously. "I'm waiting for a full report. Tomorrow, second period."

"Hey, that's biology. I need to pay attention," Eragon protested weakly.

Saphira only smiled and went inside, pulling Thorn along. "I'm waiting!" she yelled and slammed the door shut.

Eragon sighed and returned to the car. Just before he entered, he paused and wondered. Maybe there was even more he could tell Saphira tomorrow. After all, Murtagh had admitted that there were feelings on his side, too. And he was spending the night… Eragon's heart sped up and he tore open the door enthusiastically.

Yet first they both had to face Selena, whose worry for Eragon was so dominant that she could not even be happy that her oldest was home for one of his rare visits. She ushered them both to the couch in the living room, shoving a piece of cake into Eragon's hands and a beer into Murtagh's and her own.

Murtagh eyes went wide and darted back and forth between his mother and the beer. As long as he had still been living here, it had always been a nuisance to come back home quietly after a party when he had drunk something, or when he and Thorn had bought and then hidden said beverage. "Mom?" he asked tentatively.

"Mom?" Eragon asked at the same time, reproachfully.

"Oh," Selena muttered. "You don't want it, hon? I thought you wouldn't mind one with all the fuzz going on."

"It's beer!" Murtagh pointed out, nonetheless taking a sip, thinking to himself that perhaps there was more than one reason to be home more often.

"Well," Selena defended herself, "you're all grown up now, living on your own and such. Your grades are good. So why not be the man in this house. At least, when you're here." She joined Murtagh in laughing; both aware that according to that criterion she should have offered him a beer more than a decade ago.

"Mom!" Eragon now complained loudly.

Selena's features softened and she cupped the blond's cheek with one hand. "I'm sorry, honey. This is about you! Take a bite, cake has always been good for you, and then maybe you can tell me what happened. I mean, of course, all that you want to tell me. I understand I am your mother and all, but still you probably want to-"

"Mom!" Eragon groaned in frustration. "I don't want to be center of attention right now. I only want a beer, too."

"No, honey. You're far too young."

"Murtagh's twenty!"

"My dad was a European…" Murtagh cut in smugly, avoiding his brother's elbow aiming for his rips.

Eragon gave up and sighed. As so often he was not sure whether his family was a blessing or a curse. His eyes darted to Murtagh and he changed his opinion. Blessing. "Anyway… I'm not with Steve anymore. And that's a good thing." He eyed the cake and decided to give it a try. True enough, it was delicious. Who was that Steve guy again?

"Yes, Murtagh told me yesterday." Selena came to sit next to her son, taking his hand. "You sound alright, Eragon, and look good, too, but… you were so in love with him, weren't you? What happened?"

Eragon sighed and glanced at his brother once more, who was slowly relaxing, apparently preparing himself to hear everything yet again. "That's kind of a long story… I've been blind, mom. Stupidly so."

Compassion showed on her face. "Tell me. If you've been blind, then so have I."

"How much time do you have?" Eragon grinned and turned serious again. "Yeah, I could have noticed weeks, no, months, ago, but I didn't…" He plunged into a long and detailed description of the relationship that was no more, naturally leaving out any explicit details. He noticed how it did him good, yet his mother was an exhausting questioner. After about an hour they had finally arrived at the events of the weekend and Eragon tensed. All the excitement in connection with Murtagh had made him forget how Steve had hurt him, and although he considered it his past now, there was a dull ache left inside of him.

Suddenly, yet very cautiously, his other hand was being taken as well. Strong fingers enlaced with his and squeezed lightly, supporting him without words. The weight that had so unexpectedly pushed him down lifted again and it became easier for Eragon to finish his story, though he had trouble concentrating.

It was Murtagh that soon changed the topic to neutral, lighter terrain, talking about professors and fellow students, until Selena left them reluctantly, heading for the kitchen to prepare dinner. It was only then, when their mother got up and Eragon's body did not hide their hands anymore, that Murtagh let go. There were butterflies in his stomach, fluttering madly. He cleared his throat. "Well, I'll go and change into a shirt," he pointed at his warm, dark blue hoodie, "and then set the table, I guess."

Eragon was momentarily lost in Murtagh's eyes before he pulled himself together. "Sure. I'll go and help mom right away. Gotta talk to her about possible college plans and such. You know, things have changed a little since… actually since two days ago." He smiled coyly and got up, leaving Murtagh behind.

Dinner passed pleasantly, and Selena accepted her sons' early withdrawal from the table with only so much as a raised eyebrow. "Don't sleep in!" she called after Eragon, satisfied with the grunt she got in response.

Once in his former room, Murtagh let out a long sigh. Whatever it was that was going on between him and Eragon right now, it was going on nicely. He walked over to his old desk and opened the top drawer, finding his favourite sort of cookies. He made a mental note to thank his mother tomorrow and then grabbed the remote control, turning on the TV. He hoped to find a good thriller or at least a crime show to watch, to take his mind off things for a while.

At the same time Eragon was standing in front of what was now the guest room of the house and hesitated. After a moment he plucked up his courage and knocked, opening the door right away. "Hey!" His doubt as to whether he was welcome was dispelled immediately when Murtagh welcomed him with the most beautiful smile. "Can I come in?"

"You already are."

"Yeah," Eragon chuckled and then smiled brightly. "Guess what I just found in my room."

"I don't know."

"On the wall."

Murtagh was as innocent as an angel. "What did you find on your wall?"

"Oh, Murtagh. That's really sweet of you."

"Well…" The older one chuckled. "I remember you saying that you had always wanted it and so I thought…" He had sneaked into his brother's room earlier and had fixed his old Mickey Mouse clock to the wall.

Eragon nodded approvingly. "I love it, thank you!" He closed the distance to the bed on which Murtagh was sitting and lowered his voice. "I kind of left Winnie in Daret…"

Murtagh's heart went soft. "But he's so dear to you."

"That's why."

They looked at each other for a while, the room quiet except for the TV in the background. Then Eragon dismissed the situation and waved his hand around. "Anyhow, as it's quite early still, I thought that, well, since you're leaving again tomorrow and all, I could just come over for a bit."

Murtagh reached out and tousled through his brother's hair. "Sure. Let's watch some TV, what do you think?"

"Great!" Eragon settled himself comfortably next to Murtagh, resting his back against the wall of the room. But he could not yet bring himself to look at the screen. The shirt Murtagh had picked earlier was mainly black and looked as if a tiger had clawed it, yet instead of torn fabric there were deep red stripes running along the length. It had caught Eragon's eye already at the dinner table, especially because it was rather tight and showed off his brother's toned body. "That shirt looks good on you," he said without thinking and blushed.

Murtagh smirked. "Ha! You're blushing! I made it! But thanks…" Eragon would not say that if the rest was not looking good, too, right? He swallowed down the remnants of a cookie and realized guiltily that he had not offered any. He produced the package that was hidden from his brother's view. "Sorry, I'm being rude. Want one?"

"A cookie?" Eragon watched the other sceptically. "Err, didn't you say something about minding crumbs in your bed?"

"I did. But… don't you remember the circumstance in which it was okay for someone to eat in my bed?" Murtagh felt his fingertips tingle. "I mean… with me."

The scene he had already remembered two nights ago was back in Eragon's head: Murtagh with some boyfriend of his, munching chips in bed. His heart missed a beat. "I do. I remember." He bit his lip. "Yes, I would like a cookie. Very much!"