Work Text:
In his second year of university, Tighnari is approached by a stranger after class.
“Hello,” the boy says. Tighnari’s seen him in passing, sitting alone during lecture. He’s probably handsome under the dark hood and white bangs. Unfortunately, he also looks like the type who’s entirely too serious and can’t take a joke.
“Hi,” says Tighnari, a little taken aback. “Can I help you?”
The white-haired boy is completely expressionless when he speaks. “Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”
Tighnari blinks. “Who are you, again?” he asks.
“I’m Cyno.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Beside Tighnari, Kaveh is very obviously trying not to laugh.
“No, I mean—” Tighnari resists the urge to sigh. “Have we met?”
“Not really,” Cyno says.
“So why are you asking me to dinner, then?”
“Because I like you.” No trace of embarrassment at all.
Kaveh is losing his mind, his shoulders shaking silently. Tighnari ignores him.
“And why do you like me?”
“Well, your ears—”
Tighnari’s heard enough. “Sorry, but I have to refuse,” he says curtly. He picks up his backpack. “Come on, Kaveh.”
“Aww,” Kaveh says, but follows Tighnari out of the lecture hall anyway.
Just before they leave, Tighnari can’t help but turn back, just for a moment. Cyno is still standing there, a lone figure in the empty lecture hall.
“You know,” Kaveh says a few days later, “he’s in my year.”
“Who?” Tighnari doesn’t look up from his textbook.
“Cyno.”
Tighnari blinks. “He’s older than me?”
Kaveh grins. “What, you like that?”
Tighnari’s ear twitches with annoyance. “I’m just surprised,” he says. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No.”
“Apparently, he’s a pretty good guy,” Kaveh continues. “Just a little strange.”
Tighnari hums, still not looking up.
“Oh come on, Tighnari,” Kaveh says. “You can’t just turn down everyone who likes your ears. They’re a lovely part of you. Very beautiful. I like your ears.”
“Yes, and I’d turn you down if you asked,” Tighnari says.
“You break my heart every day,” Kaveh says, clutching at his chest. “You hate me.”
“I bought you lunch this whole week.”
“Fine,” Kaveh says. And then, “Oh, do you want to have dinner and play video games with me and Al-Haitham later tonight? I’ll pay for food this time.”
Tighnari’s ears perk up just a little. “You don’t mind?”
“Of course not.”
“What about your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Does he know that?” Tighnari asks, smiling.
Kaveh flicks him in the forehead. “Do you want to come or not, smartass?”
Tighnari laughs. “I’ll come, I’ll come,” he says.
So he finds himself at Al-Haitham’s apartment, playing Smash and eating takeout. At first, Tighnari had been a little wary around Al-Haitham, who is occasionally blunt to the point of rudeness, had thought that perhaps Al-Haitham didn’t particularly enjoy his company. But Kaveh had refuted this: if he didn’t like you, you’d know, he’d said. So Tighnari supposes things are alright. And the three of them have some pretty interesting interdisciplinary academic discussions, so he doesn’t quite mind the third-wheeling.
By the time the conversation peters out, it’s well past midnight. Al-Haitham and Kaveh are starting to get just a little too handsy with each other, so Tighnari takes it as his cue to leave.
“You can sleep on the couch if you like,” Al-Haitham offers. “It’s late.”
“It’s fine,” Tighnari says. “I’ll take the bus.” As much as he appreciates the courtesy, the walls in Al-Haitham’s apartment aren’t entirely soundproof, and Tighnari isn’t quite interested in hearing Kaveh getting railed until dawn again. That’s the thing with his ears—he really does hear everything.
He bids them goodnight and makes his way to the bus stop, too tired to do much else than sit on the bench and stare out at the lamppost on the other side of the street. He must’ve drifted off for a few moments, because he wakes up to someone shaking him gently.
“Hey, don’t sleep here.”
Tighnari rubs his eyes, waits for his vision to focus. It takes a moment for him to realise who’s speaking to him. His stomach drops a little. “Ah,” he says. “Cyno?”
“Tighnari,” Cyno says. He steps back, gives him some space. “I saw you asleep, so.”
“No, I—thank you,” Tighnari says.
There’s a moment of silence. It is intensely awkward. Tighnari gently regrets his existence.
“Why did—”
“I just—”
Tighnari can’t help himself: he smiles. “Sorry,” he says. “You go first.”
Cyno nods. “I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t feel bad for rejecting me,” he says. “I don’t hold anything against you for it.”
“Oh,” says Tighnari. He isn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this. “Regardless, I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have been so rude,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
Cyno shakes his head. “You weren’t rude,” he says.
“No, I definitely was.”
Cyno hums, seemingly amused. “Where are you headed now?” he asks. “The buses aren’t running anymore.”
“They aren’t?” Tighnari checks his wristwatch. “Oh. Wonderful.” He’ll have to walk an hour to get home.
“If you’d like, you can stay over at my apartment,” Cyno says. “I’ve got the space.”
Tighnari blinks.
“I won’t do anything,” Cyno says, as straight-faced as usual. “I promise.”
“I didn’t—I didn’t think you would,” Tighnari says, his ears a little warm. “I just don’t want to impose.”
“You won’t,” Cyno says. “We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to.”
“That’s taking it a little too far,” Tighnari says, amused. He gets to his feet. “Well then, I owe you one.”
Cyno’s place is five minutes away by foot, and both clean and cosy. It does, however, contain much more Genius Invokation merchandise than Tighnari would’ve expected. It feels so out of character that he almost laughs.
“You know, I used to watch this show,” Tighnari says, looking closely at one of the posters on the wall.
Cyno fairly whips around. “You did?” he asks, intent. It’s not like his expression changes much, but his excitement is palpable. Tighnari really, really wants to laugh. “Do you play the game?”
“No, unfortunately,” he says, and Cyno’s face falls. “The cards were a little too expensive.”
Cyno looks disappointed. “That’s true,” he says. “Well, it’s late. You can take the bed, it’s in the—”
The words are out of Tighnari’s mouth before he can think them through. “Can you teach me?”
“Teach you what?”
“Genius Invokation.”
Cyno blinks. “You want to learn?”
“Yes,” Tighnari says. He smiles. “I never got to play as a kid, so it’d be nice to learn now. But if you have to sleep—”
“No,” Cyno says. “No, it’s fine. Wait here, I’ll get my things for beginners.”
He looks almost cheerful as he hurries out of the room, and his eagerness is endearing. Tighnari sits and waits, and wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into.
Genius Invokation is a lot more complex than it looks. Thankfully, Cyno is a patient teacher. Tighnari realises he’s probably done this many times before.
“So now you can pick which of my cards you want to attack,” Cyno says. He tilts his head. “Which one do you think you should choose?”
His gaze is a little intense. Tighnari feels like he’s being tested. “This one?” he says, pointing after a moment of consideration.
Cyno looks impressed. “You learn fast.”
“You teach well,” Tighnari says. “Do you play competitively?”
“Well—yes.”
“Oh,” Tighnari says, tilting his head. “That’s really cool, Cyno.”
“Don’t know if that’s the word I’d use,” Cyno says dryly.
“No, I really think it is.”
Cyno blinks. “It’s just—most people usually get a little weirded about by… all this,” he says, motioning at the cards in front of them, the whole room.
“Well, they shouldn’t,” Tighnari says. “It’s just something you like and you’re good at, isn’t it? Like a sport or something.”
“I suppose,” Cyno says, and pauses. “You’re really nice, Tighnari.”
Tighnari smiles. “I don’t know about that.”
“You are,” Cyno says.
There is no trace of flattery in his voice, only candour. Tighnari feels a little flustered despite himself; he tugs on one of his ears self-consciously. “What should I do after attacking this card?” he asks.
And so Cyno goes on to explain passive effects and the types of support cards that can be activated, and so on and so forth, and Tighnari listens and tries to learn. Before he realises, it’s frighteningly close to dawn, and they wrap up the game quickly.
“Thank you for teaching me,” Tighnari says, as they tidy up. “I’m sorry for keeping you up so late.”
Cyno shakes his head. “I’m really happy you did,” he says. And then, “It’s not just your ears.”
“What?”
“Why I like you,” Cyno says. “I didn’t get to finish the other day. I do like your ears, but you’re helpful and honest with everyone, and your presentation on fungi was really informative and well-done.”
Tighnari’s face is on fire. “I—I didn’t know anyone was even listening,” he says, fidgeting with his tail.
“I was,” Cyno says.
His gaze, though focused and serious as ever, is strangely gentle. And Tighnari finally realises: Cyno must really, truly like him a lot. His heart twists, but he knows it’s all the more reason to be honest.
“I’m sorry,” Tighnari says quietly. “Cyno, I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t think I feel the same way.”
Cyno’s gaze falls to the deck in his hands. “Don’t be,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting anything; I just wanted you to know.” He looks up. “Do you think we could be friends, though?”
“Would that—would that be okay for you?” Tighnari asks, brow furrowed.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Cyno asks.
”I mean,” Tighnari says. And then, “Never mind. Yes, I think we could be friends.”
Cyno smiles. Tighnari realises he has never seen Cyno smile before. It makes him look younger, gentler. Warmer.
“Thank you,” Cyno says. He gets to his feet. “Goodnight, Tighnari. Take the bed.”
Exhausted, Tighnari falls asleep almost right away. When he dreams, he dreams of support cards and battle phases and a certain pale-haired upperclassman who isn’t what he seems like on the surface, not at all.
“You spent the night there?”
Kaveh is downright cackling. Tighnari regrets telling him immediately.
“Did you not hear me say we slept separately?”
“Yeah, and he gave you the bed?” Kaveh laughs even more. “You slept in his bed? Man, he probably enjoyed that.”
“Stop making it sound so gross,” Tighnari says.
Kaveh grins. “So what now? Are you going to dinner?”
“No,” says Tighnari, irritated. And then, more quietly, “I’m going to play Genius Invokation with him next week.”
Kaveh looks much too delighted at this. “What?”
“Platonically!”
Kaveh laughs so hard he chokes. Tighnari doesn’t offer him any water.
He meets up with Cyno a few days later at a small, cosy cafe on campus.
Cyno is just finishing up some work, so Tighnari settles down across from him quietly and reads. Eventually, Cyno closes his laptop, with what seems to be a little more force than necessary.
“That bad?” Tighnari says, looking up.
“Group project,” Cyno says. He looks tired.
“Not going well?"
Cyno shrugs. “I don’t have any friends in that class, so I got put in a group with people I don’t know.”
“Ah. Are they pulling their weight, at least?”
“No,” Cyno says.
Tighnari hums, sympathetic. He’s no stranger to awful group projects, to people who somehow think that he’s a pushover who’ll do the whole thing just because he’s generally pleasant and inclined to studying. “So are you just doing everything yourself?” he asks.
Cyno shakes his head. “I told them I’d take their names off of the project if they kept slacking off,” he says. “It worked, but I’m pretty sure they hate me now.” Tighnari laughs. “What are you reading?”
“Oh, just—” Tighnari holds the book out—it’s Advanced Microscopy in Mycology.
Cyno looks amused. “You really do like mushrooms,” he says. A pause. “Guess that means you’re a fun guy.”
It takes a moment for Tighnari to get it, and then he almost physically cringes.
Cyno notices. “Not funny?”
“No.”
Cyno looks thoughtful. “That’s too bad. Are you sure you got it?”
“Yes,” Tighnari says, “I am.”
“Because—”
“Are we using the same decks as last time?” Tighnari asks.
“Oh,” Cyno says. “Yes, we are. Do you still remember the basics?”
Tighnari does. This time, the game runs a lot smoother, and Tighnari can honestly say he understands why Cyno likes it so much. And it’s simply nice to get to know Cyno. Their personalities are surprisingly compatible, their conversation lively and never awkward.
“Do you want to play again sometime?” Cyno asks, when they pack up.
“I do,” Tighnari says honestly, “but—are you sure this is okay for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just—this,” Tighnari says. “Meeting up. Seeing me. When you—” He stops himself, because it seems somehow amiss to say it out loud.
Cyno looks unbothered. “I like seeing you,” he says simply.
Tighnari exhales softly. “Tuesday,” he says after a pause, quiet.
“Sorry?”
“Next Tuesday,” Tighnari says, a little louder. “I’m free that night.”
“Oh.” Cyno looks surprised, pleased.
“And you can always come sit with me during lecture,” Tighnari says. “We’re in the same tutorial, too.”
Cyno doesn’t exactly smile, but he does come close to it. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll do that.”
“Hey,” Kaveh says, grinning. “A little doggy told me you’re meeting up with Cyno again? What is this now, your third date?”
“Bite me,” Tighnari says, packing up his things.
“Don’t forget to use protection!”
“You’re going to need protection for your skull if you keep talking,” Tighnari says mildly.
Kaveh grins. “Gods,” he says, “you’re so hot when you’re mean,” and Tighnari rolls his eyes, but can’t help laughing anyways.
“Your friend Kaveh talked to me the other day at the library.”
They’re at the same cafe again, sitting across from each other over Cyno’s limited-edition playmat.
“Oh, gods,” Tighnari says, already bracing himself.
“He asked me if I was going to ask for your hand in marriage anytime soon.”
Tighnari groans. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“It’s fine,” Cyno says, shrugging. “It was kind of funny. And I’m not ashamed of how I feel about you.”
“I can tell,” Tighnari says. “Thank you, I suppose?”
“He told me you grew up in the same neighbourhood,” Cyno says. “Seems like he knows you pretty well.” He tilts his head. “Makes me a little jealous, to be honest.”
Tighnari blinks. “What do you mean?”
Cyno shrugs. “I’d like to know you well, too,” he says.
“I—” Tighnari’s ears are warm. “It’s not like you can’t,” he finally says.
“I see,” Cyno says. His expression doesn’t change, but he sounds happy. “That’s good, then.”
Over the next while, Tighnari learns quite a bit about Cyno.
He’s in fourth year, pre-law. Intelligent, hardworking, honest to a fault. Uncannily skilled at Genius Invokation. Thanks to his bluntness and perpetually stoic expression, he doesn’t have too many friends, but this doesn’t seem to bother him. The public speaking course they’re in together is his elective, which his supervisor had recommended he take since he was intimidating people too much during presentations.
Oh, and his jokes are really, truly awful.
Truth be told, Tighnari grows to be quite fond of him. Because—really, what’s not to like about a guy like that?
“Hi, Tighnari! Oh, and Cyno’s here too!”
The two of them look up from their game to see a smiling Collei. For whatever reason, most of the first-year biology students seem to be quite fond of Tighnari.
“Hi, Collei,” he says. Cyno nods politely.
“I didn’t know you two knew each other!” Collei says.
“Likewise,” Tighnari says. “How did you meet?”
“Cyno helped me out once,” Collei says.
“Punched a creep who was bothering her,” Cyno says.
Tighnari blinks. “Did you really?”
“He did!” Collei says brightly. “And then he walked me home, too. I’m still super grateful.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Cyno says.
“Of course you’d say that,” Collei says. She turns to Tighnari. “Anyways I wanted to ask—we’re having a little party this Friday, if you’d like to come? And you too, Cyno.”
“Oh,” Tighnari says. “Sure, I’ll come.” He turns to Cyno. “Don’t feel pressured,” he says. “You don’t like crowds, right?”
“But you’re going.”
“Well, yes.”
“Then I’ll come.”
“Great!” Collei says, smiling. “I’ll see you both there.” With that, she leaves, a spring in her step.
“Gods,” Tighnari says, “I feel old, somehow.”
Cyno blinks. “Aren’t you only a year older than her?”
“I said what I said,” Tighnari says. He stretches and gets to his feet. “Come on, it’s almost time for class.”
The party is pretty much what you’d expect. Drinking, music, talking. Tighnari walks around, sipping on fruit punch and with Cyno in tow, and makes conversation with a couple of his underclassmen. This is my friend Cyno from pre-law, he’ll say, and Cyno will nod and not say much else. It’s kind of hard to tell if he’s enjoying himself or not.
“Are you okay?” Tighnari asks eventually. “Wanna go home?”
Cyno shakes his head. “I’m okay,” he says. “I just—I don’t do this often.”
“Me neither,” Tighnari says. “It’s fine once in a while, though. Nice to act young while we still are.” He winces—it’s getting a little loud. “That being said, want to step out for a bit?”
Cyno nods. “Sure.”
When they go out, the night air is cool and soothing. The street is quiet. They sit down next to each other on the front steps of the house, and it’s peaceful. It’s nice.
“Does it taste good?” Cyno asks, looking at Tighnari’s drink.
“It’s… certainly sweet. Want some?”
Cyno shakes his head. “I’m weak to alcohol,” he says.
“Really?” Tighnari says, amused. “That’s surprising, somehow.”
“So I’ve been told.” Cyno blinks, as if realising something. “Was it too loud in there?” He gestures at Tighnari’s ears.
“Just a bit,” Tighnari says. He smiles. “Unfortunately, they don’t exactly make earplugs my size.”
“If you want to go back in, I can cover your ears for you,” Cyno says.
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tighnari says, amused. He’s noticed that Cyno stares at his ears quite often when they’re alone.
Cyno blushes. “That’s not what I meant.“
“I’m just joking,” Tighnari says. “But don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. I think they’ll stop the music soon, anyways.”
Cyno pauses before he speaks again. “You know, you don’t have to stay with me the whole time,” he says, and he sounds almost awkward. “I know you have other friends here.”
“You think I’m such an asshole that I’d leave you alone at a party where I’m the only person you know?” Tighnari asks dryly.
“Well no, but I—”
“You came because of me,” Tighnari says. “I’m not leaving you. Plus, have you ever considered that maybe I just like being with you?”
Cyno blinks. Evidently, the answer to that question is no. Tighnari sighs, takes Cyno by the sleeve.
“Come on,” he says. “The music’s stopped. Let’s go back in.”
They return in the middle of a drinking game. Everyone seems a little buzzed at this point.
“Pick a card, Tighnari’s friend!” someone says, and Cyno does so, bemused but obedient.
He holds up the king card. “What do I do with this?”
There are a few cheers, a few oh nos.
“Oh, you’re supposed to—to drink that,” Collei says, pointing at the large glass that stands in the centre of the group. It holds a murky, dangerous-looking concoction. “But Cyno, you don’t have—”
“Oh, he’ll be fine,” one of the boys says, grinning. He takes the glass and holds it out to Cyno.
“No,” says Tighnari. “I’m drinking it. Give it to me.”
“Hey,” the boy says, “that’s no fun—”
“Be quiet,” Tighnari says, grabbing the glass and pouring it down his throat. People cheer. He almost gags. The world spins a little.
“Tighnari,” Cyno says, concerned. “Are you okay? You didn’t have to—”
“Shh,” says Tighnari. “I’m fine. Wait here while I throw up in the bathroom.”
Tighnari doesn’t actually vomit, but perhaps it would’ve been better if he did, because he is positively smashed for the rest of the night, and passes out leaning on Cyno’s shoulder. When he wakes up again, he’s in a bed that’s slightly familiar.
“You’re awake?” Cyno says. “I brought you to my place. I hope that’s okay.”
“Oh,” Tighnari says, and sits up with great difficulty. He is still very, very drunk. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Can you drink some water?”
Tighnari downs the whole glass. He hadn’t realised how thirsty he was. His head is starting to hurt, and everything is a little fuzzy around the edges.
“Are you alright?” Cyno asks, sounding concerned. He presses his hand to Tighnari’s forehead, and his touch is so cool and comforting that Tighnari unconsciously leans into it. And then their eyes meet, and Tighnari can only think about how Cyno is really quite handsome, and that it’s been a while since anyone has kissed him, and before he realises it, they’re both leaning in and his eyes are closing—
His lips meet Cyno’s fingers. Surprised, Tighnari blinks.
Cyno exhales. “I don’t—I don’t want this,” he says quietly, “if you don’t mean it. And you don’t mean it. I can tell.”
“Oh,” Tighnari says, pulling back and lying down again. He can’t help but feel a little regretful, even through the drunken haze. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Cyno gets to his feet and turns off the lamp, casting the room into comforting darkness. “Sleep well.”
The next morning, Tighnari—burdened with the uncanny ability to remember everything after blacking out—wakes up and fairly rushes into the kitchen, where Cyno is sitting at the table and scrolling on his phone.
“Good morning,” Cyno says, looking up. He’s wearing glasses; parts of his hair curl up a little. It’s very endearing.
“I tried to kiss you last night,” Tighnari says.
“You did.”
Tighnari winces. “I’m sorry.”
Cyno shrugs. “It happens,” he says. “You were drunk. You apologised right after, too. It’s okay.”
“No,” Tighnari says, frustrated at himself. “No, it wasn’t. It was unkind of me, and inconsiderate. I’m sorry, really.”
“Tighnari,” Cyno says, “it’s fine. You’re going to make me feel bad if you keep apologising.”
Tighnari almost apologises for apologising, and swallows it down. “Okay,” he says.
“Do you want to go out for breakfast?” Cyno asks. “I don’t have a lot of food in the fridge.” He seems so calm. Perhaps Tighnari had been overthinking things, after all.
“Alright,” Tighnari says. “Let’s go. My treat.”
Sometimes, they’ll meet up first and head over to the cafe together. Tighnari likes this. It gives them more time to chat.
Today, Cyno is still in a group meeting when Tighnari comes to pick him up, so Tighnari sits down at a nearby desk and opens his reading for the day. However, he still can’t help overhearing the conversation. Cyno’s group—a boy and a girl—seem to be arguing with him about the peer reviews for their project.
“Hey, was that really necessary?” the boy demands. “We rewrote everything and did what you asked, so what’s the deal, huh?”
“Yeah,” the girl says. “I know we had a misunderstanding at first, but you couldn’t have just let that go?”
Ah, Tighnari thinks. Idiots. This must be that terrible group project that Cyno has been suffering through the whole semester.
“I still ended up doing the research for both of you,” Cyno says calmly. “Not to mention I did all of the editing, so—”
“Oh, don’t exaggerate,” the boy says. “It’s not like giving us a better evaluation hurts you.”
“No,” Cyno says, “but I’m not in the habit of lying.”
The boy scoffs. “Gods,” he says, “what’d we do wrong to end up in a group with you?” Cyno is silent. “Asshole.”
Tighnari’s heard enough. He grabs his book and marches up to the table, fuming. “Excuse me,” he says icily, “but who do you think you are?” His hackles are raised; his ears are flattened. Cyno blinks, taken aback.
The boy looks just as shocked. “What? Who—”
“You heard me.” Tighnari is incensed. “Who are you to say something like that?”
“Tighnari,” Cyno says. “It’s okay.”
“No,” Tighnari says. “No, it’s not. I saw how much time you put into this.” He turns back to the rest of the group. “How entitled can you be?” he demands. “You’d probably have failed if not for him—”
“Tighnari, it’s fine,” Cyno says. He gets to his feet and tugs on Tighnari’s sleeve. “It’s alright; the project is already over. Let’s just go.”
Tighnari exhales. “Fine,” he says, and levels one last scathing glare at Cyno’s group members. Brainless, both of them. “Let’s go.”
Tighnari is still fuming at the cafe.
“You deserve better,” he says, frustrated. His ears are still flattened to his head, a remnant of his anger. “Gods. I would’ve punched them. I’ll go back and punch them right now—”
“Don’t waste your emotions on them,” Cyno says, shuffling his deck. “It’s not worth the effort.”
“But it’s not for them,” Tighnari says. “It’s for you.”
Cyno blinks, his features softening. “Thank you, Tighnari,” he finally says. “I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten angry for me before.”
“Well, you’re my friend,” Tighnari says, frowning at his cards. “Of course I would.”
“I see,” Cyno says.
They don’t say much more about the matter once they start playing, but Cyno almost looks like he’s smiling, just a bit.
“You know,” Collei says when she’s picking up some first year readings from Tighnari, “I didn’t expect you to be such good friends with Cyno.”
Tighnari blinks. “Where’d this come from?”
“Just thinking about that time you chugged that nasty, awful drink for him,” Collei says, grinning. “There was half-and-half in there, you know.”
“I did think I tasted something milky,” Tighnari says, cringing at the memory.
“And you were right!” Collei says. “But yeah—you’re both so different. You’re so easy to talk to, and nice, and Cyno’s—” Tighnari raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not saying he’s a bad person or anything! He’s not at all! But all the same, I think people are afraid of him. I was, at least. Because—” She tilts her head. “Because he always looks kind of upset. Or angry.”
Tighnari laughs. “He does, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah! You never know what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling.”
“I suppose,” Tighnari says. “But—I mean, all you have to do is ask.”
“That’s true,” Collei says thoughtfully. “Thanks for these!“ she says, putting the readings in her bag.
Tighnari smiles and ruffles her hair. “Don’t procrastinate your studying this time, yeah?”
“I—I’ll try not to!” She checks her watch. “I’ve gotta run now. Tell Cyno I said hi, okay? But don’t tell him I thought he was scary!”
“Will do,” Tighnari says, and watches her go, amused.
“Love is real,” Kaveh proclaims. “It’s real, and I’m in it.”
They are in the library. Tighnari ignores him.
“Hey, did you hear me, Tighnari?” Kaveh says, shaking him gently. “What I’m saying is that I have a boyfriend now.” He huffs. “God, nobody appreciates anything I do around here.”
“I would appreciate it a lot more if this wasn’t the third time you’ve told me,” Tighnari says dryly, refusing to look up from the notes he’s taking. “But please, do forgive me for my unkindness.”
“I shall not,” says Kaveh. “You know, when you finally fall head over heels for someone, you’ll look back and say, oh wow, my best friend Kaveh was right all along—”
“Don’t think so,” Tighnari says. “And since when were we best friends?”
“Don’t even joke about that, Tighnari,” Kaveh says. “If I’m not your best friend and you replace me with Cyno or some other clown, you’d better watch your back. Because I’m going to stab it.”
“Horrifying,” Tighnari says. And then, “Did you just call Cyno a clown?”
“He’s only a clown if we’re competing for your hand in marriage.”
“Unfaithful already, I see,” Tighnari says. “Your poor boyfriend.”
“I can have two boyfriends.”
“You can also have zero.”
“Is that a threat? Are you planning to murder Al-Haitham?”
“Why would I do that? If anything, I’d go for you first—” Tighnari blinks and raises his head, his ears perking up. He hears Cyno before he sees him, and then their eyes meet from across the room. Cyno’s expression brightens, and he walks over to them.
“Tighnari,” Cyno says. “I was just looking for you.”
“Hi,” Tighnari says. “What’s up?”
“The new card set is out.”
“Oh, really?” Tighnari’s ears perk up in interest. “Did you buy it already?”
Cyno nods. “Do you want to come over and take a look?”
“Sure,” Tighnari says.
“How about tonight, then?”
Tighnari pulls out his phone to check his schedule. “Yeah, that works.”
Cyno looks pleased. “Alright. Well, I’ll see you later—”
“Hi, Cyno,” Kaveh says, with a shit-eating grin.
Cyno blinks, very clearly only registering Kaveh now. “Ah,” he says. “Hello, Kaveh.” He nods respectfully, and takes his leave.
Kaveh laughs. “That man would fight a war for your honour if you asked him to,” he says.
“I’m not asking,” Tighnari says shortly.
“Hey, are you sure you don’t have a boyfriend too?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Are you, though?” Kaveh says. “Your tail—”
It’s wagging, the treacherous thing. Tighnari tucks it under his knees. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he says, and pointedly ignores Kaveh’s bright laughter.
“Do you really dislike people who like your ears?” Cyno asks one day.
They’re watching the first season of Genius Invokation at Cyno’s apartment. Tighnari sits cross-legged on the couch, his tail curled around him neatly.
“Well, I don’t mind people liking them,” Tighnari says. “It’s just—sometimes, that’s all people like, and it’s just… disappointing for everyone involved.”
Cyno hums. “Speaking from experience?”
Tighnari smiles wryly. “Unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cyno says. He pauses. “I like everything about you, though. I don’t see how anyone could do otherwise.”
Tighnari finds himself blushing, and turns back to the television. He doesn’t really know what’s happening in the show anymore. “Don’t say that,” he says.
“Why not?” Cyno says. “It‘s true.”
And that’s just like Cyno, isn’t it—always voicing the truth, honesty above all. And Tighnari admires him for it, but in matters like this, he could do with a little less candour. His ears are hot; he does not know what to say.
“I’m sorry,” Cyno says. “I made you uncomfortable.”
“No,” Tighnari says, “no—I just—” He sighs, hugs his knees into his chest. “It’s fine. It’s fine. Just give me a second.”
“Okay.”
A moment of silence. Tighnari glances at Cyno, who is already looking at him. “Want to touch them?”
Cyno blinks. “What?”
“My ears,” Tighnari says. “You stare at them a lot, so I figured—”
“Sorry, I’ll stop—”
”That’s not what I meant,” Tighnari says. “I really don’t mind, you know. I don’t know why everyone thinks I’ll bite when it comes to this.”
Cyno looks like he’s trying to figure out whether he’s being pranked. “Are you sure?” he finally says.
In response, Tighnari lowers his head. When it comes, Cyno’s touch is unbelievably gentle.
“So soft,” Cyno says, and smiles.
“Are they?”
Cyno nods, continuing to stroke his ears. He’s strangely good at it. Tighnari feels himself melt a little, and closes his eyes in contentment.
“That feels good,” he murmurs, and leans into the touch, making a pleased, quiet sound. “There—that’s nice—”
Cyno’s hands stop moving, and Tighnari opens his eyes, confused. “What’s wrong?” he asks, and then almost swallows the question back in.
Cyno is blushing like crazy, his eyes wide, his pupils dark and blown out. It isn’t at all hard to tell that he is unquestionably, undeniably turned on. Despite his mortification, Tighnari feels a thrill run through his entire body, and realises: oh, this is dangerous.
He jerks back. “I think—I think that’s enough for now,” he says.
Cyno withdraws his hands like he’s been burnt. “Yes.”
Thankfully, the television is still playing, so they can pretend to focus on something else. Cyno is sitting as stiff and rigid as a board, his eyes glued to the screen. Tighnari takes deep breaths, trying to slow the pounding of his own heart, to quell the part of him that wants nothing more than to turn to Cyno and beg him to keep going, please, keep going.
They don’t speak about it again. Thankfully, nothing really changes between them, but Cyno never even glances at his ears anymore. It’s for the best, Tighnari thinks. If they talked about it, he does not know what he would say.
But all the same, Tighnari can’t help but remember sometimes, remember that even Cyno can lose his composure. And the thought of it makes him run a little hot, a little itchy under the collar, and his mind starts to stray into more dangerous territory until he has to put a stop to it by reading some very dry chapters in Principles of Animal Physiology, 4th edition.
The seasons change, and exams are quickly upon them. Accordingly, much of Tighnari and Cyno’s Genius Invokation sessions become study sessions. It’s a sad but necessary change.
But studying with Cyno is nice, too—his quiet presence at the next desk over becomes comforting, almost. Sometimes, when Tighnari’s brain needs a break, he’ll just watch Cyno study until he notices. This can take a while; Cyno is nothing if not focused. He tends to furrow his brow when he’s deep in thought, making him look almost comically frustrated. He also types like a geriatric, two fingers and all. It’s strangely endearing.
This time, Cyno catches Tighnari a little earlier. Perhaps he’s getting used to it.
“What is it?” Cyno asks.
“Nothing,” Tighnari says, amused. He pokes Cyno’s furrowed forehead gently with the back of his pen. “But you do look angry.”
Cyno huffs. “Everyone says that. I’m not.”
“I know,” Tighnari says. And then, “You know, you’ve got pretty long eyelashes.”
“It’s makeup.”
“Really?”
“No,” Cyno says dryly. Tighnari laughs. “Did you study at all, or are you just going to stare at me and point out my physical shortcomings?”
“Hey, none of those are shortcomings,” Tighnari protests. “And I’m done for today, I think. Covered all my material.”
Cyno hums. “Well, in that case,” he says, and closes his laptop. “I’ve been done for a while, too.”
“What? Why didn’t you say so?”
“I was waiting for you to finish.”
“Oh,” Tighnari says.
“By the way,” Cyno says, packing up his things, “there’s a local tournament next Friday that I’ll be playing in. I was wondering—” He glances at Tighnari quickly. “I was wondering if you’d like to come?”
Tighnari’s ears perk up. “Of course,” he says, earnestly excited. “Where is—” And then, “Next Friday, you said?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” Tighnari says, his tail drooping, “I have—I have a cell bio exam then. I’ve got to study.”
“Ah,” Cyno says. He’s obviously disappointed. “That’s okay. Can’t be helped.”
Tighnari sighs, frustrated. “I wanted to watch you play,” he says.
“You do that often.”
“You know what I mean.”
Cyno smiles. He seems to smile a lot more these days. “Don't worry,” he says. “Another time, okay? Good luck on your exam.”
“Thanks,” Tighnari says, still a little disappointed. “Good luck to you, too.”
The day of his exam, Tighnari finds himself alone in the library, his notes and textbooks open neatly on the desk before him, his mind wandering. After a while, he gives in and texts Cyno: how’s the tournament going?
Cyno responds almost immediately with a picture of tables packed with players, Genius Invokation as far as the eye can see. it’s fine. quarterfinals soon
nice! are you having fun?
yes. a lot
Tighnari hides a smile. happy for you, he responds.
thanks. good luck on your exam. And then, before Tighnari can respond, i wish you were here.
There’s a strange, fluttery feeling in Tighnari’s chest, and in that moment, he decides to do something that is not fully logical.
Tighnari writes the exam like he’ll get bonus points for speed. Afterwards, he races home, punches the tournament venue into his navigation app, and just before leaving, makes a quick little bouquet out of the profusely blooming flowers he’s cultivated in the front yard.
Then he books it.
The final is just wrapping up when Tighnari arrives, and the table is so crowded that he can barely see over everyone’s shoulders. Cyno—of course he’d make it to the final, Tighnari thinks with a smile—is facing off against a tall young man with blue hair.
A few turns later, Cyno emerges victorious. There is a flurry of quiet applause and cheers as he shakes his opponent’s hand. A couple of spectators approach Cyno to congratulate him, and Cyno takes it all in stride, nodding politely and thanking them without any trace of awkwardness. There is something more relaxed about him here, more open.
Before Tighnari can call out to him, their eyes meet from across the table.
“Tighnari?” Cyno says, and his expression softens with pleasure, with surprise.
You never know what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling, Collei had said, and perhaps many others have thought the same. But in this moment, it could not be easier for Tighnari to understand Cyno’s thoughts: I am happy, I am happy, I am happy you're here. It makes a thrill run through Tighnari’s body, and he almost feels shy for a moment. He swallows.
“Hi,” says Tighnari.
Cyno heads straight for him, leaving a trail of admirers in his wake. “I thought you couldn’t come,” he says.
“I finished early,” Tighnari says. He smiles apologetically. “But I still only caught the last bit of the final. Sorry about that.”
“No, it’s fine,” Cyno says. “It’s fine.”
“Ah, and—” Tighnari says, remembering. He holds out the bouquet. “Congratulations.”
“Oh.” Cyno blinks, taking the bouquet gently. “Thank you.” And then, “I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten flowers at a card game tournament before.”
Tighnari tugs on one of his ears self-consciously. “I suppose it’s a little strange, isn’t it?” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Cyno says hurriedly. He’s blushing a little. “No, don’t be. I like them. They’re very nice.”
“That’s good, then,” Tighnari says, ears warm.
For a moment, the two of them stand there awkwardly, both embarrassed. Say something, Tighnari implores himself, say something, it’s getting weird—
“Cyno! Cyno! We’re going for dinner. You’re coming, right?”
Their saviour is a tall, well-built young man with long white hair. He looks a little like a delinquent.
“I—”
“Wow, you got flowers?” The tall young man turns to his companion. “Gorou, why didn’t you get me flowers?”
Gorou’s ear flicks with irritation. “Well, did you win?”
“Maybe I would’ve won if you got me flowers—”
“Itto, do I look like I can afford to get you flowers every tournament just for a chance of you winning?” Gorou turns to Tighnari and Cyno. “I’m sorry about him,” he says, and Tighnari laughs.
Itto seems to finally notice Tighnari. “Who are you?” he asks. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“He’s with me,” Cyno says.
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
“I’m Tighnari,” Tighnari says. “Cyno’s friend from school. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise!” Itto says. “You want to come to dinner with us, Tighnari?”
“I mean,” Tighnari says, “I don’t want to intrude—”
“You won’t,” Cyno says, a little too quickly. “Just come. If you—if you’ve got the time, that is.”
“I do,” Tighnari says, and smiles.
Dinner is at a nearby restaurant that the group seems to be quite familiar with. It’s lively and lighthearted, and Tighnari finds himself sandwiched between Cyno and Itto and listening to their spirited discussions, which are admittedly quite amusing.
“Yeah, but I could’ve won if I chose a different strategy—”
“Anyone can say that,” Cyno says. “You’re basically saying that you could’ve won if you were better.”
“I mean, that’s true—”
It’s a little strange to see Cyno like this, lacking any of his characteristic reserve. There’s a quiet confidence about him, an ease in the way he carries himself. He’s comfortable here. And Tighnari appreciates it, is happy for him, but a selfish part of him feels a little wistful too, a little lonely. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve only really been alone together, and he’d almost taken for granted that there was something special between them, that he alone knew everything there was to know about Cyno. It is a presumptuous and stupid thought, and Tighnari hates himself a little for thinking it.
“Tighnari,” Cyno says quietly, bringing him out of his reverie, “are you okay? Is it too loud?”
“Oh.” Tighnari smiles. “No, it’s fine. I’m just listening.”
“I’m sorry,” Cyno says. “I didn’t mean to pressure you to come.”
“You didn’t,” Tighnari says. “Really. I’m glad I’m here.”
“Oh,” says Cyno. “Okay.”
They’re very close to each other; their legs brush under the table. Tighnari’s face is warm, and Cyno’s cheeks are flushed too, darker than usual. There’s an undercurrent of something in the air between them, a quiet kind of expectation, and Tighnari starts to panic just a little bit, because Cyno is really so close, and moving closer, and he can’t possibly be doing what Tighnari thinks he’s doing in front of everyone, could he? Could he?
Cyno answers that question by half-falling onto him, resting his head on Tighnari’s shoulder. His eyes are closed. People are starting to stare, but Tighnari is too worried to care much.
“Cyno, what’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m so sleepy,” Cyno murmurs. “And my head—”
“Are you sick?” And then Tighnari sees the drink that Cyno had been sipping on, which looks suspiciously alcoholic, and then he realises. “Cyno, are you—are you drunk?”
Cyno hums sleepily, not moving.
“Oh, dear,” Ayato says, from across the table. “I think that’s my drink. He must’ve gotten it by accident.”
Well, that answers the question. “Gods,” Tighnari says. He’d known Cyno was weak to alcohol, but this is something else. “Do you want to go home?”
“No,” Cyno says, and fairly nuzzles him, his arms coming to rest around Tighnari’s waist. Everyone is staring now. Tighnari’s face is on fire. “You’re here, so I’m fine. I’m fine—”
He promptly falls asleep.
Tighnari ends up taking Cyno home. Thankfully, Cyno’s apartment is a short bus ride away, and he’s sober enough to walk, at least. Tighnari helps him into his apartment, into bed.
Cyno tries to sit up. “The bouquet you gave me, is it—” He blinks, disoriented. “I have—I have a bottle—”
“Got it,” Tighnari says. “I’ll take care of the flowers, okay? Don’t worry.”
“Okay,” Cyno says, lying back down. And then, “I’m sorry. For making you do this.”
“No,” Tighnari says. “No, don’t be. You’ve done the same for me.”
“I remember,” Cyno murmurs. “I remember. You tried to kiss me. I think about it a lot, you know.”
Tighnari’s heart twists. “Oh,” he says.
Cyno meets his eyes and smiles, small and sweet and honest. He seems so young like this, so vulnerable. “You’re so beautiful,” he says sleepily. “And so nice. I like you so much, so much. I love you.” His eyes are closing again. “I wish—I wish you liked me too… I really…”
He trails off, finally falling asleep. Tighnari is left standing there at his bedside, shaken. His face is burning and his heart is pounding, and there’s a strange ache that settles into his ribcage and refuses to leave, even long after he’s gone home.
He gets a call the next morning, when he’s eating breakfast.
“Thank you,” Cyno says. “For yesterday.”
Tighnari tugs on his tail gently, nervous. He’s glad Cyno can’t see him right now. “Don’t mention it,” he says. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes,” Cyno says. “But I just wanted to make sure—” He sounds worried. “I didn’t do or say anything strange to you, did I?” he asks. “I’m sorry if I did.”
Tighnari swallows. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. “No,” he says quietly. “No, not at all.”
They don’t see each other for the next while. Cyno has a two-week break before his only exam, so he’s gone back home at the behest of his parents, although rather reluctantly. I’ll text you, he’d told Tighnari, and he had, but even then, it’s been more than a little lonely.
At any rate, it leaves Tighnari time to think. Perhaps a bit too much time, because he can’t get that night out of his head: Cyno’s smile, the warmth of his hand, I wish you liked me too. Tighnari thinks about it so much he loses sleep. Because—well, he’d forgotten, somewhere along the way and perhaps willingly, that to be in love always, always means wanting more, even if you say otherwise, even if you lie to yourself. And Cyno, despite his apparent indifference to his own feelings, is no exception—he is only human, after all. And so, knowing all that—
“I think I’ve been a terrible person.”
Kaveh seems unfazed by the sudden admission. “I know I’ve been a terrible person,” he says almost proudly, looking up from his notes. “Feels kind of out of character for you, though. What’s wrong? Is this about Cyno?”
Kaveh is eerily intuitive sometimes. “Why does it have to be about Cyno?” Tighnari asks.
“Just feels like it is. Why, am I wrong?”
Tighnari sighs, lays his head on his arms. “I shouldn’t have been his friend,” he says. “Even if he said he wanted it. It’s hard on both of us.”
“You both looked pretty happy to me,” Kaveh says, shrugging.
“I was,” Tighnari says. “I am, but—” He sighs. “He still likes me,” he says quietly. “And I—I don’t think all of this is fair to him. I don’t think I'm fair to him.”
Kaveh hums, thoughtful. “Why don’t you tell him, then?” he says. “And just stop seeing him. Have some mercy and let the guy move on. He’s graduating soon, anyways—it’s not like you’ll see much of him in the future.”
His words make Tighnari feel like he’s been punched, like all the air has been knocked out of his chest. Kaveh makes sense—of course he does, so why does Tighnari want so badly to argue with him? Of course Cyno should move on, of course Tighnari is nobody special in the grand scheme of his life. Of course they should go their separate ways if being friends hurts them both. And for a moment, Tighnari sees a future where Cyno graduates and they never speak again, where they will never chat and laugh over a game of Genius Invokation together, where Cyno falls in love with someone else, and smiles that small, secret smile at them instead—
“No,” Tighnari says, turning to Kaveh, and his voice is so desperate that it breaks, “no, I don’t want that—”
Kaveh is smiling. Tighnari realises he’s been had.
“Oh,” he says, mortified, his tail desperately trying to escape between his legs. And then, really, really realising, “Oh. Oh, no.”
“Finally realised it, have you?” Kaveh says, grinning. “Took you long enough.”
Tighnari puts his face in his hands. “Be quiet,” he mumbles.
“See?” Kaveh says. “I was right. Love is real, even for you.” He pats Tighnari on the shoulder consolingly. “Gods, for someone so smart, you’re really stupid sometimes. You were together almost every day, for heaven’s sake. And you gave that man flowers, Tighnari. Flowers.”
“That was for a TCG tournament,” Tighnari protests.
“That just makes it worse.”
Tighnari groans. “This is mortifying,” he says.
“Better get used to it,” Kaveh says.
“I—” Tighnari raises his head. “What do I do now?” he asks.
“I mean, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Kaveh says. He laughs when he sees Tighnari’s expression. “It’s not that complicated, Tighnari. This isn’t a test. I’m pretty sure you already know what you want to do.”
Tighnari exhales softly, gathers himself together. “I suppose I do,” he says.
A few days later, Tighnari finds himself waiting outside Cyno’s exam room, nervous and apprehensive. He’s pacing a bit; his heart rabbits in his chest. In his head, he recites what he’s going to say to Cyno for what must be the fifth time. He’d written the whole thing down at home. He’d even practised—
“Tighnari.”
Tighnari fairly jumps. He whips around to see Cyno, who looks apologetic.
“Sorry,” Cyno says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, no,” Tighnari says. “It’s fine.” He swallows. “How was the exam?”
Cyno shrugs. “Fine, I suppose,” he says. He smiles, and Tighnari stares. Perhaps it’s because it’s been a while, and Tighnari has missed seeing him, but he can’t help thinking that Cyno really is handsome. If he smiled more, talked more, he’d be insanely popular. “It’s been a while,” Cyno says. “It’s really nice to see you again.”
“It is,” Tighnari says, swallowing.
“Wanna head to the usual place? You’re done with all your exams too, right?”
“I am,” Tighnari says. His mouth is dry. “But first, I—I wanted to—” There are still people leaving the exam room, and Tighnari’s dignity is already shaky enough today without witnesses, so he takes Cyno by the wrist and pulls him into an empty classroom down the hall.
“Tighnari?” Cyno says, sounding puzzled, but he lets Tighnari lead him anyways.
Tighnari closes the door behind them. His heart is already thudding against his ribcage—not for the first time today, he wonders how Cyno had done this with hardly a blush.
“Tighnari, what is it?” Cyno says, brow furrowed with concern.
“Well, I just—” Tighnari swallows. “I wanted you to know that if you still wanted to, I—” Cyno looks increasingly confused. Tighnari feels pathetic. He’s never been so inarticulate in his life, except for that one time he got heatstroke when he was twelve. “Do you—do you want to have dinner with me?” he finally manages, and cringes almost immediately.
“Well, yes, but it’s one in the afternoon,” Cyno says, frowning.
Tighnari is going to lose it. Leave it to Cyno to be clueless now of all times.
“That’s not what I meant,” Tighnari says desperately, “I—”
Cyno reaches out to place his hand on Tighnari’s forehead gently. “Are you feeling alright?” he asks, sounding worried. “Your face is so red. Do you have a fever? Should I bring you home?”
“I’m fine!” Tighnari says, so flustered that his voice comes out uncharacteristically loud. Cyno jumps, withdrawing his hand. He looks taken aback, almost a little hurt, and Tighnari decides that he can’t do this anymore. “Screw it,” he says.
“What do you—”
Tighnari pulls Cyno in by the hoodie and kisses him.
It’s not a very good kiss—he’s too nervous and Cyno is completely unprepared, and so it’s more like a little collision than anything, but still enough to make his heart pound. When they break apart, Cyno is blushing furiously. He stares at Tighnari, bringing his fingers to his lips as if wondering if he’d imagined it. Tighnari can fairly see the exact moment Cyno pieces everything together; somehow, he blushes even harder.
His embarrassment is contagious. Tighnari’s cheeks are burning. “Well, say something—”
Cyno moves so quickly and so forcefully that they end up stumbling back a few paces, Tighnari’s back hitting the wall with a soft thump. Cyno’s hands are hot on Tighnari’s face and he kisses deep and desperate, enough to make Tighnari weak in the knees. And Tighnari kisses back, parting his lips, and it feels so warm and lovely and right that he can only wish that they’d done this earlier, that he hadn’t been so oblivious to his own feelings.
When they break apart for air, he can feel Cyno trembling, and his heart aches for him. He presses his forehead to Cyno’s gently.
“I didn’t think—” Cyno‘s voice is a hoarse, shaky whisper. He seems on the verge of tears. “I didn’t think you would ever—for me—”
“I would,” Tighnari says, taking Cyno’s face in his hands. “I do, I do. I just didn’t realise.” He kisses Cyno again. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
“No,” Cyno whispers, chasing his lips, “no, it’s alright—” He’s still shaking, his touch feverishly hot.
Tighnari takes Cyno’s hand and places it on his own chest, where his heart is pounding. “I mean it this time,” he says. “I really do. I hope you can believe me.”
Cyno kisses him again. “I do,” he says, between kisses. “I believe you, I believe you—”
He kisses Tighnari again, and again, and again, and Tighnari buries his fingers in Cyno’s hair like he’s wanted to for a long time now, and after a moment Cyno’s hands settle on his waist. His touch wanders under Tighnari’s shirt, onto his bare skin, upwards, upwards, and Tighnari shivers, his blood suddenly running very hot. This, he realises, is very dangerous.
Tighnari puts a hand on Cyno’s arm. “Wait,” he whispers.
Cyno stops, swallowing. “Sorry,” he says. “Too much?”
“No, just not—not here.”
Cyno looks around them, taking in the muffled footsteps and voices from the hall, finally seeming to recognize his surroundings. “Ah,” he says, looking adorably embarrassed, shy. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
“No,” Tighnari says, “I started it, it’s fine,” and a part of him finally relaxes after all the desperation and tension. He can’t help but grin, and his tail won’t stop wagging.
“What’s so funny?” Cyno asks, even as he smiles too.
Tighnari shakes his head, grinning wider. “Not your jokes, that’s for sure,” he says.
“Now, that is uncalled for,” Cyno says, but he laughs softly, and then they are both laughing, holding each other close in this empty classroom, their hair and clothes a mess, their lips still sore and swollen. Tighnari has never been happier.
When they calm down, Tighnari takes Cyno’s hands in his own. “I’ll ask again, since I messed up the first time,” he says. “Cyno, would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”
And Cyno smiles, gentle and honest and bright, like the morning sun that is beloved by flowers the world over. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, Tighnari. I would like that very much.”
“Tighnari.”
The two of them are passing the time in Tighnari’s room, sitting next to each other on the bed and watching Genius Invokation on his monitor. They’re on the fourth season now. Tighnari rests his head on Cyno’s shoulder; Cyno has an arm gently around his waist.
“Yes?”
“I did say something that night, didn’t I?” Cyno says. “When I was drunk, and you took care of me.”
“Hm,” Tighnari says. “Depends on who you ask.”
Cyno frowns. “Tighnari.”
Tighnari straightens up. “You’d be embarrassed,” he says with a smile. “I’m just sparing you.”
“I don’t get embarrassed that easily,” Cyno says, actually pouting a little. Tighnari is struck by the sudden impulse to kiss him. “You know me. After all, what could I have possibly said, anyways—”
Tighnari smiles. He suddenly feels very brave. “I love you,” he says, and Cyno freezes.
“Are you—are you telling me or are you answering my question?” he asks slowly.
“Well,” Tighnari says, mischievous, “what would you prefer?”
Cyno looks somehow mortified and elated at once. “I—” he says, and swallows. His face is so flushed he looks feverish. “You—”
Tighnari laughs; he can’t help it. “A lot less bold when you’re sober, aren’t you?” he says. He presses his lips gently to Cyno’s cheek. “It’s fine. We’ve both said it, so let's just say we’re even now.”
“Gods,” Cyno mumbles, and hides his face with his hands. “I’m so—” He groans. Tighnari laughs again, and Cyno raises his head. “You—you’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”
“No,” Tighnari says, and tries to look innocent. “No, not at all, why would you think that?”
“You—” Cyno pushes him down gently. “You’re a menace.”
“But you love me.”
A sigh. “I do.”
“Then that’s fine.” Tighnari reaches up for him, pulling him downwards. “Then everything’s fine.”
Despite Cyno's previous chagrin, Tighnari can feel him smiling when they kiss. And—well, isn’t that just the loveliest thing in the world?
