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After a hard day's work, he prefers to return to his bed and sleep till morning.
However, tonight he had been invited to the bar by Al-Haitham to join him for a drink. Hoping to improve their relations, he agreed.
That was a mistake he wouldn't make twice.
He's never considered what Al-Haitham would be like as a drunk, but reality was beyond any expectation.
A drunk Al-Haitham was talkative, animated even.
He wasn't sure what to make of it.
"You know," Al-Haitham begins as he takes a sip of his drink, a red flush across his face, "you look much better without that ridiculous hat."
Cyno makes a noncommittal noise and sips at his drink. Cyno had taken off his headdress since he first sat down, so it's odd that Al-Haitham decides to bring it up now.
"I can finally properly see your face. Well, half of it. You should consider getting your hair out of your eyes."
Right, like Al-Haitham was one to talk. He could see just fine through his hair, he didn't see why everyone was concerned about it.
"Your eyes are an interesting hue. It reminds me of the sunset."
"..."
"If I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"
Cyno chokes, silently glad he swallowed his drink before hearing the words.
"Excuse me?!" His voice comes out embarrassingly high pitched.
Al-Haitham studies him for a moment before replying. "Do you need me to explain?"
"No, I-" He clears his throat, "I know what it means."
"And your answer?"
"I'm not answering that." He hisses back, slamming back his drink and pouring himself another. He would need more alcohol to forget that terrible pick up line.
What was even the purpose of that? To provoke a reaction? Al-Haitham would do that wouldn't he?
Al-Haitham drums his fingers against the table and hums for a moment, pondering something.
The next words out of his mouth make Cyno wonder if this is all some realistic dream he's having.
"If you were a food, you would be Adeptus' Temptation, because not even the Gods could resist you."
He simply sits there, mouth agape at the horrendous line.
"Hm. Not a fan of that one?"
"You're crazy." Cyno says with a sudden realization.
"I thought with your penchant for terrible jokes that it would work." Al-Haitham's brows furrow, "Alright, I'll try something different."
Please don't, Cyno thinks to himself as he pulls on his own cheek to test if he's dreaming. It hurts, so unfortunately this is reality.
"If I were your prisoner, I'd never want to escape."
"...What?"
"Sorry, let me think of another one and try again."
The first must have been a joke, he was sure the second as well. But trying a third time? He was starting to think these might not be jokes.
... Was Al-Haitham flirting with him?
How much alcohol did he drink to get to this point?
He glances down at the table, finding several bottles on Al-Haitham's side that he hadn't noticed before, all empty of their contents.
He looks back up at Al-Haitham, finding the man staring intently at him. The only indication of his drunken state was the deep red flush across his face.
The words of a drunk are never to be taken seriously. He is certain that Al-Haitham would never speak such things were it not for the alcohol in his system. As such he would be kind, this once, and completely forget everything Al-Haitham said to him.
Cyno slams back his drink and pours himself another cup. This would not interfere with their working relationship.
Treat him like he's some street peddler who's hawking his wares, he'll say anything to draw your attention. Don't fall for it. You're not interested so don't pretend to be.
He takes a deep breath before speaking.
"Al-Haitham, I think it's best you stop talking." Before you say anything more embarrassing, he silently adds.
His words seem to have the opposite effect, as he can see a determined look settling across Al-Haitham's features.
Archons, give me patience with this drunkard.
"You are an oasis in the desert and I-" His gaze lowers upon Cyno's lips and speaks in a low rumble, " am very parched."
Cyno can feel his face heat up at the words despite his stern refusal to react. The man was shameless! Was Al-Haitham propositioning him?
"That's a nice look on you." Alhaitham smirks, "I'd like to see that more often."
"Don't count on it."
"I wonder what other expressions you can make."
Were it not for where they were, he would consider knocking Al-Haitham out and dumping him at his home to sleep it off.
It would spread rumors if anyone saw the two of them fighting. Though he isn't sure if rumors of flirting are any better.
He takes a deep breath and presses his palms to his face. Al-Haitham doesn't know what he's saying, he reminds himself.
He's drunker than a Mondstadt bard. He would flirt with a tree if he was in front of it. Cyno takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm down.
None of this meant anything.
With those thoughts firmly lodged in his mind, he looks at Al-Haitham who eyes him with a flirtatious smile.
"Al-Haitham," He says with a clipped tone, "this is highly inappropriate."
Al-Haitham's hand starts to move towards his, and he quickly hides both hands under the table in response. The man has the gall to look annoyed.
"Care to elaborate, Cyno?"
No, he does not want to elaborate. Would his words even get through to a drunkard who has decided that Cyno is the target for his flirtations?
He crosses his arms and tries to regain his composure.
When in doubt, quote the Matra manual.
"Under the section regarding workplace entanglements, rule 4 states that relationships that involve officers of unequal standing- such as a superior and their subordinate- are highly unethical in nature, and thus cannot be allowed to exist in the workplace."
It earns him an amused hum, and Al-Haitham is reaching for him again. Cyno leans as far away from the table as he can. Unfortunately for him, Al-Haitham has a very long reach and there is a wall behind Cyno.
"My dear General," his tone is smooth as he pulls one of Cyno's arms towards him and trails his fingers down the skin. He isn't sure if it's the words or Al-Haitham's touch that causes the shivers down his spine. He doesn't like it at all.
"I don't believe that applies to us at all, does it?"
As much as wants to rip his arm away, he won't give into that desire. He needs to remain calm and defuse the situation.
Al-Haitham looks too pleased, as if he knows what his actions are doing to Cyno's mind.
"You're trying to get a rise out of me." Cyno says with a hint of nervousness, feeling a chill as Al-Haitham's hand trails down to his wrist. Luckily, it seems Al-Haitham is too distracted by Cyno's arm to notice.
"Maybe I am, or maybe I'm not." He feels a firm squeeze on his wrist.
"You're drunk and you don't know what you're saying."
"Hm." Al-Haitham's fingers press against his pulse and he smiles knowingly.
"You've very nervous, Cyno. Am I that terrifying?"
"You don't scare me." He snaps back, moving to pull his arm away.
But the grip around his wrist is firm, and the brief struggle only earns him an amused chuckle.
"Then why are you so nervous? Or, is it that my words actually have an effect on you?"
"They don't and they never will."
Al-Haitham hums, and moves his hand to entangle his fingers with Cyno's. He looks satisfied brushing the pads of his fingers against Cyno's hand, squeezing it with an uncharacteristic smile.
Cyno can't find the meaning behind that look, maybe there is none.
If all he has to do is sacrifice his hand to prevent Al-Haitham from flirting with him, it was a decent exchange. He only had to deal with this until Al-Haitham sobered up.
Though having someone hold his hand makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. He tries to push it out of his mind, but Al-Haitham's hand feels extremely warm.
He's not used to this sort of intimacy.
It's almost funny, in an ironic way. He can handle all sorts of pain and interrogation, but this?
He can't deal with this.
"How does Kaveh deal with this nonsense?" His whispers under his breath.
"Why are you talking about Kaveh?" There's a deep furrow between Al-Haitham's brows as he asks.
Did the man have the ears of a hawk or something?
"Because it's clear to me that you have done this before."
He gets a scoff in return, "Do you really think that?"
"Obviously." He shoots a glare at Al-Haitham. "I've always wondered why he would get so upset at you. To think he's dealing with this harassment every time you get drunk."
The grip on his hand gets tighter, almost painful.
"Fine. Let's say that's true, what would I have to gain from that?"
"You said it yourself. You want to see amusing expressions don't you?" He turns away, "Unfortunately for you, I'm not falling for your tricks."
There is an uncomfortable silence between them after his words, and Cyno finds himself looking back at his companion.
The grip on his hand loosens, enough that he is certain he could pull away if he wanted to.
All mirth seems to have disappeared from Al-Haitham's face, replaced with a somber look.
"If you assume every offered flower comes with thorns, you'll be lonely for the rest of your life."
The words are surprisingly cutting, despite how quietly they are said. Cyno wonders if Al-Haitham is really drunk or if he's already sobered up long ago.
"I'm fine with that."
The path he's chosen is a lonely one, with no room for romantic entanglements. He doesn't have many friends, and has little free time. It would be difficult to find someone who would accept that his job comes first.
People have always seen him as an outsider, and though most agree he is necessary, they are intimidated by him.
People didn't tend to want to get closer to things they feared.
He would be surprised if anyone actually found him attractive, or even wanted him as a romantic partner with all that stacked against him.
He doesn't like to think about it, but he had accepted it a long time ago.
So he knows Al-Haitham doesn't mean what he says, no matter how sweet the words are.
"I know a lie when I see it." Al-Haitham gives him an imploring look and squeezes his hand.
"If you would let me, I would prove you wrong." The words are gentle, spoken like a secret to the world itself.
Cyno almost believes them.
But while it seems sincere, there's a difference between a liar and a drunk who believes he's telling the truth.
Cyno shakes his head and pulls his hand away. It takes more effort than he's willing to admit to.
"It's late and you're drunk. I'll escort you back home." He gets up and turns to look at his companion.
Al-Haitham seems dissatisfied, but gets up as well. "I'll go pay."
Cyno opens his mouth to object, but Al-Haitham is already making his way to the bar. His form is slightly unsteady, hunched, and Cyno wonders if they'll make it back without him having to carry the man.
He puts on his headdress, feeling the security brought on by the familiar weight.
The reminder of his choice brings a strange pain to his chest, but it fades quickly.
I'm fine with this.
Their trip back is uneventful, save for Cyno having to occasionally pull Al-Haitham to keep him from running into something. He seems distracted, deep in thought about something.
Cyno figures the man must have begun to sober up, given how silent he is during their walk back.
They make it to the front door without trouble, and Cyno waits as Al-Haitham fishes out his house key and unlocks the door.
"Goodnight, Al-Haitham." He says as he prepares to leave.
However, before he can take a single step, his arm is caught, and he turns to see Al-Haitham looking down at him.
"I meant what I said."
"What?"
Al-Haitham reaches out and cups his hand against Cyno's cheek.
Al-Haitham's thumb brushes over his lips, and Cyno finds himself unable to do anything but stare back at him.
There's something about the way Al-Haitham looks at him that stops him from pulling away. Something that keeps his mind from thinking anything at all.
He doesn't know how long they stand like that, frozen in time in front of the door.
Eventually, Al-Haitham sighs and pulls away.
"Goodnight, Cyno."
It's only after the door closes that Cyno returns to life, pressing a hand against his furiously beating chest. A single thought comes to mind.
What if Al-Haitham hadn't been drunk at all?
His mind quickly falls into disarray at the thought and he turns and runs as far as he can.
He comes up with hundreds of excuses for his reaction, for Al-Haitham's actions.
Explanations about what Al-Haitham was trying to do that night, and why Cyno didn't attempt to stop him.
He doesn't get much sleep.
The next day, Al-Haitham doesn't bring up what happened at the bar or in front of his home. He doesn't know if Al-Haitham remembers, or if he's trying to pretend it never occured.
It's for the best that they act as if nothing had happened. Words spoken under the influence of alcohol could not be seen as trustworthy.
He tries not to dwell on it or question why he feels disappointed by this outcome.