Chapter Text
Aether trudged into class the first Tuesday of the semester and immediately noticed the smell of clay as the class settled into the large art desks. He spotted his friend Amber sitting in the second to last row and quickly moved to join her. Amber had convinced him to take Intro to Ceramics with her, but now he was questioning his decision to take any elective that began at 7 in the morning.
“I hope you know that this class is basically beginning in the middle of the night,” Aether grumbled, throwing his bag over the back of his chair and settling down next to her.
Amber just giggled and pushed a cup of coffee closer towards him. “Oh, stop complaining, Aether! We can grab some coffee and spend the mornings making teacups or whatever. Either way, it’ll be great! A few weeks from now and you’ll be thanking me.”
Even before the sun rises, Amber was always full of positivity. She was the first person Aether met at college, when she stumbled upon him lost at Orientation during freshman year and declared that she was going to help him find his way. They’ve been friends ever since. That didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling a bit petty though. He blamed the lack of sleep.
“Well, to be honest, I find that very hard to believe,” Aether scoffed.
Aether’s head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. Woah.
The blonde man who entered seemed a bit shorter than himself, but clearly older. It wasn’t his appearance that looked older, but the way he carried himself with an easy sense of grace. The top half of his hair was pulled back into an effortlessly disheveled bun with strands left out to frame his delicate features. He was dressed in a simple white button-down shirt with embroidered details running along the collar and a soft yellow knitted vest; an outfit that would have made anyone else look prehistoric instead made him look clean and untouchable. Aether’s attention drifted upwards and locked eyes with the newcomer, soft amber meeting bright teal, encircled by the delicate black frames of his glasses.
In short, he was simultaneously the nerdiest and most attractive man that Aether had ever seen in real life. He couldn’t help but hold his breath when their eyes met, hardly daring to move. Instead of settling into one of the desks as Aether had half-expected, the man walked to the front of the classroom and started pulling papers out of his tan messenger bag.
“Oh shit,” Aether whispered to himself quietly, ignoring Amber’s questioning nudge. Please tell me that he is not my professor.
“Hello class. My name is Albedo. You may notice I’m not the professor listed on the course schedule. I’m a graduate student in the Studio Art program and I’m working as the teaching assistant for the semester. Since today is just for reviewing the syllabus and answering any questions, you will not be meeting the professor until next class, but I’ll still be around each meeting to help lead instruction.”
Aether released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
The very pretty TA—Albedo—started passing around the stack of papers in his hand. When he passed in front of Aether’s desk, he couldn’t help but purposefully catch his gaze again with a slight smile. This time, he held it for more than a moment, relishing in the slight widening of those pretty teal eyes. Albedo stared back for a few moments questioningly before moving on to the next row, pushing up his frames on his nose as he walked away.
Okay, so maybe Aether could handle getting up at the crack of dawn for an elective class. Oh man, Amber is going to be so smug about this…
♡ ♡ ♡
When Aether had first learned he was going to a different college than his twin sister Lumine, he was terrified. He had never spent so long without her before and worried for weeks about making friends. Even if he was only an hour away from Lumine, Aether spent the weeks leading up to their high school graduation scared about being alone.
Now, in the university cafe listening to Amber fill in their friend Kaeya about the newly dubbed Aether’s Hot TA, he almost wished he had never made a single friend at this school.
Amber ignored his protests and continued throwing him under the bus. “You should have seen it, Kae! Aether did not look away from Hot TA once during the entire class. He read through the entire syllabus but I bet Aether wouldn’t be able to tell you anything about the class.”
“Shut up,” Aether whispered petulantly under the sound of Kaeya’s laughter. He couldn’t help but join the other two in giggling after a few moments. Even if they were making fun of him, he enjoyed spending time with his friends.
“Hey, at least he’s not your professor,” Kaeya consoled him with a bump to his shoulder. Aether made a face at him, even though the thought had definitely already crossed his mind.
Amber let out another laugh. “That didn’t stop him from dressing like a sexy librarian, complete with the cute glasses and sweater vest.”
He couldn’t stop the heat from rising to his face at their pointed looks. “You into the nerd look now, Aether?” Kaeya taunted.
The part of Aether that was embarrassed at being called out quickly lost out to the part of him that refused to let Kaeya have the last word. He knew that acting shy would only increase the teasing tenfold, especially when Amber got to the rest of their friends.
Aether just tapped his chin lightly and appeared to ponder something for a moment. “You know… I really didn’t know the sexy academic look would do it for me, but college is a time for exploration. We learn something new every day, and today I learned that Hot TA”—now he’s saying it too—“could teach me absolutely anything he wants.”
He punctuated his remark with a small smirk, remembering the way Albedo’s teal eyes widened at his attention. He almost wishes that Albedo was the TA for one of his other classes, so he could stop by with some questions about the course and learn more about him.
Aether didn’t even know what kinds of questions he could ask the older man about ceramics. What’s your favorite type of clay? Are you single? How accurate was the movie Ghost?
Kaeya laughed while Amber just rolled her eyes at his antics. “What he wants to teach you is ceramics, weirdo. Try not to thirst over him all semester and then end up failing the class. I know you’re a flirt, Aether.”
Before he could even start to feel offense, Kaeya patted him on the back. “C’mon Amber, don’t be such a drag. Aether is a healthy young 20 year old man. Let him flirt with his Hot TA. There is no rule against fraternization between teaching assistants and students anyways.”
Just as Aether was about to thank Kaeya for his friendship and undying support, the man continued with a coy smile. “Plus, it’s not like Good Student Aether and Horny Aether are mutually exclusive. The man can live out his Ghost ceramics fantasies without failing too miserably.”
The sound of the cafeteria around them was drowned out by the sounds of Aether’s indigent squawking and his friends’ loud laughter.
♡ ♡ ♡
Two and a half weeks had passed and Aether was determined. Even though his friends were mean and unsupportive of his emotional turmoil, he was determined to have a real conversation with Albedo, who had been frequenting his daydreams since that first class.
With any luck, the man would be incredibly boring and Aether could leave his embarrassing crush behind. If there was no chemistry between them, Aether was confident he could easily move on from “crushing on Hot TA” to simply “admiring his ethereal beauty on occasion.”
The class had moved on to the first independent project as the students became used to all of the new techniques. Thursday classes were dedicated work days and the professor hardly showed up to those meetings, leaving Albedo to handle any questions as students worked on their own projects. Aether watched the way that Albedo answered questions, voice always calm and measured. He could listen to the older man talk for hours; the way that his soft and raspy tone always sounded out every word with intention, as if every syllable deserved his utmost attention.
Albedo’s attention must be an intoxicating experience, Aether mused, settling down at his assigned potter’s wheel.
While he was no undiscovered pottery prodigy, he had definitely began to enjoy throwing clay. The spinning of the platform was calming in so many ways. Between the steady whirring of the rotation and the occasional sound of Albedo’s lilting voice breaking through his awareness while he answered questions, he often allowed himself to get lost in the experience.
But no amount of distraction could settle the nerves that had made their home beneath Aether’s skin today, alert and waiting for a catalyst. He went through class in an unusual daze and waited for the bell to ring.
Aether allowed himself to linger, to clean up his area more thoroughly than usual and think about what he was going to say. He couldn’t stop his gaze from landing on the other man, speaking softly to another student at the head of the classroom.
Okay, Aether. You can do this. You will do this, or you’ll never hear the end of it. He muttered a quick goodbye to Amber, not even pausing to register her response, and approached Albedo, who had finished answering questions and began flipping through papers on his desk.
He paused in front of the man’s desk, a near perfect mirror image of their moment during the first class, and waited for him to look up.
“Hello, can I help you with something?” Yes, please. Aether had been right: Albedo’s voice so close to him was a revelation. He felt every syllable dance along his spine and make their home deep in his chest.
“Hi, we haven’t officially met yet! My name is Aether. I’m a third-year anthropology major.”
He didn’t know why he chose his major as an introductory point. Honestly, he had figured it was neutral territory to approach with somebody from a class.
Albedo paused for a moment, holding him in place with a curious gaze. Aether felt like an experiment for the world’s hottest scientist; he could do nothing but wait for the man to draw his own conclusions with his heart beating in his throat.
“Why anthropology?”
Aether startled slightly. Of all the follow-up questions he’d expected him to ask, that one was not even on the list, which was probably faulty logic on his part considering he mentioned it. He took a moment to collect himself.
“Wow, I haven’t been asked that since my first year! I don’t have a crazy good answer,” Aether admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just have always loved traveling and learning about new people and places. Anthropology seemed like the right choice if I wanted to spend my life learning about how everyone sees the world.”
A weighted silence followed. Albedo’s sharp gaze felt even heavier. “Hm, by that logic, why not history or sociology?”
“Hm,” Aether hummed in consideration. This was all going pretty off-script from the usual small talk. “Well, in addition to not being very good at remembering dates? History focuses on battles and the winners, and that was never my thing. Sociology is cool, but the focus is all on groups and systems, which I don't think is the whole story. I would say that anthropology is about the experiences of individuals with a culture, and I’ve always cared about everyone’s story. I just care about people. As a field, I mean.”
Aether couldn’t help but feel heat rise to his cheeks at Albedo’s serious teal gaze. Did I sound like an idiot? Please don’t let the pretty boy think I’m an idiot.
His teal eyes softened almost imperceptibly. “Ah, I see.”
Aether could not begin to formulate a response to that. Before he could try, the older boy continued. “So you are merely in this class for an elective. Why this one?”
You, Aether thinks to himself, completely charmed by that way that Albedo narrowed his eyes slightly every time he asked a question, and lightly tapped his chin. The gesture was too casual to be anything but a habit, almost an afterthought. There was a slight pinch to his eyebrow that Aether wanted to smooth out with his fingertips.
He forced himself to focus on the boy’s words, not just the way his expressions shift. Why did he take this class?
“My friend Amber wanted to take an art elective together, and ceramics and graphic design were the only ones that worked for our schedules. I like doing things with the hands more, so this seemed like the better choice,” Aether answered honestly. “You seem to really like questions.”
Albedo’s eyebrows rose slightly. Aether mused to himself that it felt good not be the only person taken aback. Surprising Albedo and seeing those teal eyes widen was definitely something Aether could get used to. He even found that he really liked being looked at like a riddle that couldn’t be solved.
Before he could recover, Aether asked a question of his own. “Why studio art?”
Albedo used the tip of his pointer finger to push up his black frames, dipping his head down slightly. “I have always loved to create things, in any way that I could. To paint or draw or sculpt something is to immortalize it; to create something entirely new is to discover.”
That’s… way better than his reason, Aether noted, in awe. “I think that’s really impressive. I’m enjoying making pretty rudimentary soy sauce dishes, so I can’t imagine how incredible your art is and how many new and beautiful things you've been able to create.”
Albedo lets out a huff of air. Aether realizes with a jolt that it was almost a laugh. The corner of the man’s delicate lips were curled up ever so slightly, but there. A smile, and a devastating one at that. The TA was not one to grin at a classroom of students, so the sight was a new one.
Something entirely new to discover. Aether only wished he had the means to immortalize that look, to save it as art for the next generation.
“Perhaps you’ll make your own discoveries in this class, Aether. Unfortunately, we must leave now,” Albedo gestured around.
Aether had to shake himself out of the daze induced by hearing his own name for the first time in that man’s lilting tone. The room around them had emptied of his classmates and the early students for the next art class had already started to filter in around the two boys.
“Oh, oops,” Aether nodded, laughing to himself. “I didn’t mean to hold you up. I just wanted to introduce myself. See you next week!”
He hitched his backpack up on his shoulder with a bright smile, hand raised in a small wave goodbye. Albedo gave him a look that he’d begun to think of as commonplace: openly curious. He lifted his hand up silently, holding it still in the facsimile of a wave.
“See you next week, Aether.”
Aether’s last thought before he exited the classroom was that there was no chance of his crush becoming an embarrassing story of the past. One small conversation has taught him that Albedo was as interesting as he was beautiful, and Aether could not wait to learn more. He was willing to work for those discoveries.
♡ ♡ ♡
Meanwhile
Albedo was always an artistic child. He was independent and mature for his age, according to all reports. The young boy could never be found with other children, finding their friendships taxing and often uncomfortable. They couldn’t understand his interests just as he could not understand theirs. The young boy had always much preferred to find a private corner to sketch in, ready with the small notebook he had carried around with him since he had learned to carefully etch his name on the inside cover. Albedo.
A future in art was a certainty. He pursued it with the same single-minded focus that he pursued all of his interests, curious to a fault. Every medium, every artistic technique he could find, every teacher and resource at his disposal.
Albedo had dedicated himself to the ongoing endeavor of creating something entirely new, to bring new beauty into the world that did not exist before. He would become enthralled with a subject, usually a view or an idea, and he ached to create.
It happened time and time again. Albedo would hyper focus on something; a gorgeous landscape; a particular medium. He could never get enough and would immerse himself in creation until he was forced to the surface by Klee or Sucrose knocking on his studio door.
Safely away from the ceramics classroom, body still alight with a ceaseless curiosity, his fingers itched to paint those exact hues of amber across the largest canvas he can find. He could already feel the wet clay beneath his fingertips as he tried to carve out the exact slope of his upturned nose or the soft curve of his cheek.
The golden boy had caught his attention on the very first day. Albedo could still recall the way that his stomach lurched when the attractive young blonde boy caught his eyes above the class syllabus. The admittedly beautiful features that he had only seen from across the room were now clear. Albedo had felt the first initial stirrings of interest in his chest, the kind of fascination he had only felt towards his latest art inspiration.
He was an obviously handsome young man, long golden hair pulled back in a low braid. From above the desk, he could see his small figure enveloped in a large oversized red high-necked sweater, sleeves long enough for only his fingers to peak out. His features were soft and open, a smile looking completely at home on his lips. His amber eyes were illuminated with some unknown spark that warmed Albedo’s chest in a curiously new experience. This boy looked the way that sunlight felt.
Albedo felt the weight of the golden boy’s gaze in the classes that followed, heavy on him in moments when he least expected it. When he was able to observe the boy in turn, he reveled in witnessing the way he interacted with the world. He always came into class with an extra large cup of coffee, and his amber eyes didn't quite reflect that familiar sparkle until the clock struck much closer to 8:00 and the sun had long since filtered through the blinds. During instruction, he leaned forward in his seat and listened with his whole body; during work time, he laughed freely with his classmate and frankly made a bit of a mess of himself with clay. This boy was absolutely stunning.
He had taken attendance before so he knew this boy’s name, but he had hardly dared to think it, let alone say it aloud. To put a name to the enigma is to acknowledge the intensity of his infatuation, and Albedo was not prepared for that level of self-awareness.
Until the boy approached him after class that day and introduced himself, giving his name as easily as the bright grin overtaking his features.
Until he dropped little interesting bits and pieces of himself at Albedo’s feet, making known what he had only hypothesized before: there was no way that the owner of that smile could be anything less than a gift to the world around them.
Until he displayed a genuine interest in him and made his own keen observations in return, providing glimpses of every fascinating aspect of his personality: the playfulness in his gaze; the humor in his tone; the openness of his demeanor.
Albedo had always thought that the concept of having a muse was for the sentimental type, the fragile artists whose abilities ebb and flow with the waves of their latest fancy.
But he again considered those amber eyes, considered the enigma that is Aether, and decided that being a bit sentimental is a small price to pay for a spark of inspiration.
