The next two months.
Since Glorfindel's return and Faramir's re-departure, Erestor had stopped moving about only at night again. He reasoned that it was safe to be seen, since the whole city was rather enamored of the Vanya Elf who was the one answering all their questions. However, now that Erestor was freed up to take care of Faramir's work, he simply was not content. That was when he decided to transport the contents of Aragorn's study into Faramir's and take on the work of both the King and the Steward of Gondor. Erestor loved a challenge a bit too much, but since he no longer had Elrond to beat at chess regularly, this would have to suffice. As it was, Erestor had decided to forego sleep, working night and day and seeming very nearly merry about it.
Glorfindel, who made it a point to rarely visit Erestor in fear that he might spoil this atypical mood the Noldo had taken, wondered if he was not just testing his limits to see how long he could both drown himself in work and forsake sleep until he worked to death. Maybe that was one of the "new ways to get yourself killed" Ere' had mentioned when he learned of the Enchanted water in Faramir's canteen.
Then the Dwarves came.
When some poor young guard had notified Erestor that a host of Dwarves had arrived Erestor stared at him as though he had sprouted a tail. It was not possible, he had just put down a missive from some Dwarf-lord or other stating that the company would be arriving in another month. Erestor was not overly fond of Dwarves very much, almost a strange trait for one of the Noldor race, who might not have exactly welcomed Dwarves with open arms, but certainly had more dealings with them then the Sindar and others. Knowing that Aragorn would be back within the month, Erestor decided he would rather simply not think about a pack of Naugrim converging on the White City. It would not be his matter to deal with.
Now, however, it suddenly was his matter to deal with. 'Diplomacy, Erestor...,' he repeated silently to himself over and over as he walked out to meet the Dwarves who had come. Erestor forced himself to ignore the gravelly grumbles that began when the Elf advisor walked in to the hall they were waiting in. It was not that he minded all Dwarves at all; when he had come through Rivendell, Erestor found Thorin Oakensheild to be rather enjoyable and dignified company. It was the ones who had not respect for the Eldar that made him bristle. Judging by the grumbles he was trying his damnedest to tune out, these Dwarves were not like Thorin. 'Diplomacy... for Estel,' he said, taking a deep breath.
After an explanation that Aragorn had not yet returned from King Theoden's funeral and would likely not for another month (which brought forth even louder grousing from the guests), Erestor found them lodging and invited them to enjoy Minas Tirith and to get acquainted with the city. They would not begin work without the King's say so and Erestor hoped dearly that they would just stay where he had them put, down on the first level by the gate. Cursing them under his breath in Quenya, Erestor hurried back to the Citadel, highly angered that they had come early and would be hanging around with nothing to do, since they refused to touch a stone, when they could at least get started. Erestor hated the mismanagement of time.
While the Dwarves were in Minas Tirith, the dark-haired one was ever more harried and hurried. He poured himself even deeper into his assumed work. One evening while wholly (and happily) entrenched in sorting greetings of various natures, he had an unexpected guest. Glorfindel had decided to drop by the Steward's study to say hello. He brought with him a bottle of Dorwinion and a pair of globets. Hearing the blond enter and trying to ignore him, a treasonous thought wrapped itself around Erestor's mind: the real reason he had elected to inundate himself with work was and always had been to remain distracted from Glorfindel. It was, unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), not going to be so easy this time.
"Look what i found in Estel's chamber...," Glor' said, presenting the bottle. No doubt about it, it was Dorwinion wine from King Thranduil's private stock - Erestor's secret weakness.
"Very nice," the advisor said dryly, begging himself to concentrate on working, and silently begging Glorfindel not to pull the cork.
A squeak and a low pop caused Erestor to stiffen and steel himself. He would not take a drink... would not take a drink.... But Glorfindel also had a very deep appreciation for the most excellent vintage in Middle-earth. He slowly poured himself a glass, Erestor trying not to watch the rich, velvety red liquid as Glorfindel swirled it in a manner that seemed utterly seductive. The blond savored the fine aroma before teasingly, temptingly passing the glass in front of Erestor's line of vision before gracefully drawing it back and taking a sip. A smile of satisfaction warmed Glorfindel's features, telling Erestor that it was a perfect bottle.
A few of Glorfindel's sips later and Erestor was looking like a starved waif. Why, Glorfindel thought he looked like he might do almost anything for a glass of the liquid pleasure in front of him. "May i offer?" Glorfindel said, sounding charismatic as he poured Erestor a glass even before the Noldo could refuse, thinking he should have found this sooner.
Erestor pouted in obvious conflict, drawing a deep grin from Glorfindel. Erestor looked several times between the stack of parchment he was working on and the glass Glorfindel held. Sighing, he set down his quill and accepted the wine. The first sip nearly made him shudder in pleasure. It had been years since they last did anything grand enough in Imladris to warrant the Dorwinion which was so hard to come by so far west. Glorfindel's grin grew feral as he noted that wave of pleasure that swept the pedantic advisor. Oh, indeed, he should have found this much sooner!
By Erestor's third glass he was beginning to look like Glorfindel had never before seen him... relaxed. He had left Faramir's desk and was sitting by the hearth and, lo and behold, he was holding a conversation with Glorfindel and had yet to look like he was only just stifling the word "idiot." Glorfindel poured the last glass for Erestor and wondered if he would get through it, Erestor was looking sleepy. As he leaned in to press the glass into Erestor's hand and make sure that he had a grip on it before pulling back Glorfindel somehow found himself mere inches from Erestor's lips. Glorfindel quickly closed that gap.
The dark-haired Elf did not fight, and for some reason that he was not able to explain, he leaned into the kiss, even going so far as to take the initiative to deepen it to a less than proper level. All track of time and space was lost then until simultaneously Erestor felt a hand stroking his thigh and heard a tap at the study door. Erestor bolted upright and shoved Glorfindel away so hard that the Vanya landed on the floor. Standing tall, Erestor strode with indignity to the door and brushed passed the guard who had knocked, looking back at Glorfindel in something that could be termed disgust. He all but fled back to his chambers.