Chapter Text
The overhead lights were turned off and the bedside lamp was turned on, casting a faint golden glow all over the room. The sound of crickets outside accompanied the sound of flipping pages and the occasional click of a pen.
Cyno blinked twice when he found himself falling asleep. Again. Then again. And again. He rubbed his eyes and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyelids, thinking the dull pain would wake him up.
He was actually about to doze off again until Tighnari clicked his pen.
Said ranger glanced down at him when he just about popped his eyes open.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“Can’t wake someone up if they were already awake.”
Tighnari had one knee pulled to his chest, a notebook with information he had compiled from various trips into the rainforest resting on it. Idly twirling a pen in one hand as he flipped through aforementioned notebook, looking for any required revisions and side notes to jot down in the corners.
“Uh-huh,” he said matter-of-factly, not sparing another glance as he quickly scribbled down something in the margins. “Totally got me convinced you’re that someone.”
Cyno huffed a breathe of mock frustration and moved over to rest his head on Tighnari’s thigh. It was possible for him to fall back asleep right then and there but he had the trusty pen clicks to rely on.
Until they became soft background noises as well.
“What’s your work alcoholic ass doing now?” he asked, staring up at Tighnari. He wanted to cup his delicate face and boop his nose, but sadly, his arms were heavy with the burden of drowsiness.
Click
“I was touching up some notes for the next edition of A Field Guide to Rainforest Life,” the face spoke. “But I’ve gathered that you’re waiting for me to finish?”
Cyno imitated the sound of a ringing bell, or he thought he did. Drowsy…
“We…we gotta be workaholic life savers for each other…ya’know?”
Tighnari let out a quiet laugh as he put the notebook and pen aside and it was enough to wake Cyno’s brain back up.
“Well congratulations, you’ve saved a life.”
“Playing along now are we, Mister Tighnari?”
“Perhaps.”
A comfortable silence filled between them and the moon rose higher into the sky. The sound of crickets outside had died down a tad. And the faint golden light still clung to the ceiling.
“…’N’ri?”
Tighnari hummed equally as quiet, busy at work with braiding a strand of hair.
“Why’re lungs ‘n trees th’ same?
Laughing a little at the evident sleep in the others voice, he questioned, “Are these the things that go through your mind when you’re on duty?”
Cyno blindly swatted at Tighnari’s face, hitting absolutely nothing. “Noooo…I think about how you’re somehow not ‘ired from runnin’ around my brain allllll day.”
“Haha. Real funny,” the latter deadpanned, tugging at the strands of hair in his hands.
“HEY—OW—NO—no. Not my hair,” Cyno shouted (as quiet as he can anyway), successfully bonking Tighnari on the bridge of his nose.
“Of course, General. I would never do such a thing,” the bonked-nose victim responded, quickly adding in, “Back to those lungs and trees, what about them?”
“That’s what I’m wondering,” said Cyno, looking into Tighnari’s dual-colored eyes. “I remember overhearing a conversation in the city, something about lungs and trees.”
Ignoring the soft eyes filled with adoration looking into his soul and the butterflies in his stomach, Tighnari finished off the braid and begun his explanation.
“It’s basic understanding that most living beings inhale in oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide. This is known as respiration.”
He gently traced a large circle on Cyno’s chest, above his lungs.
“It’s also basic understanding that trees take this carbon dioxide and convert it into oxygen for us to inhale. This is known as photosynthesis, a continuous cycle.”
Slowly but surely, Tighnari nudged the drowsy Cyno off of his thigh and onto a more suitable pillow. An actual pillow.
“This can be seen as respiration which leads to the statement of lungs and trees being similar. If we see it from another perspective…”
——
Well darn.
Cyno was falling asleep, as much as he didn’t want to admit it he could feel his grasp on “awake” loosen.
Why don’t I want to fall asleep? Tighnari isn’t working anymore, I’m not on workaholic watch.
He opened his eyes by a slit and saw the blurry sight of Tighnari above him, talking. All the information is flying over his head but his voice sounds like the little stream they always passed by when he tagged along on patrols. He was tracing lines on his chest, saying something about branches or whatever.
Cyno rarely was fully interested in the questions he brought up to Tighnari.
He just liked the way his eyes would light up and how his voice would get a less-than-noticeable spring when an interesting topic is brought up.
He reached out and blindly grabbed for Tighnari’s hand, somehow finding it in the midst of his wild hand gestures, and slotted their fingers together.
He saw the vague outline of Tighnari’s confused expression turn soft, how the ends of his lips curled up into a smile. Heard the bedside lamp switch off, and a murmured goodnight my love, followed by a peck on the forehead.
Feeling oddly content and fuzzy, “my love” loosened his grip on “awake” and drifted into sleep with one final thought in mind:
So this is how being in love feels like.
They slept with their hands entwined together until dawn.