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Alhaitham wakes up to an empty bed and a crick in his neck. The sun is peeking out of the horizon, the morning chill seeping into the room. Cyno is nowhere to be found.
There are small signs of his presence: the disarray of the sheets on the other side of the bed, the white strand of hair on the spare pillow, the growing hollowness in his chest. Even the pain in the muscles of his arms, twisted awkwardly throughout the night to pillow Cyno’s head. Insignificant details that proved it wasn’t his imagination running wild, that Cyno really had said yes to his invitation last night.
Alhaitham closes his eyes, breathing slowly. He gives himself five whole minutes to stew in his misery, before he goes on with his day. It doesn’t help, not really. The sense of loss doesn’t go away, but by the time he opens his eyes, he feels well enough to pretend.
Kaveh is already clanking around the kitchen when he leaves his bedroom—if anything, his roommate looks as if he hasn’t slept at all. Feeling generous for once in his life, Alhaitham sets two mugs down on the counter. Kaveh shoots him a grateful look, which Alhaitham waves away.
“You know, I’m obligated to ask,” Kaveh starts once they're both slumped over their meals. He pauses meaningfully. When Alhaitham doesn't reply, he continues, “You’ve got anything you want to share with me?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, yes, that would be your usual response, but! Given the circumstances, maybe this time it’s a little different—”
Alhaitham sighs. “Cut to the point, Kaveh.”
“I saw Cyno leave your room an hour ago," he admits, eyebrows raised. "The sun wasn’t even out yet. He was startled to see me too, which… Not a lot of people can say they’re able to sneak up on the General Mahamatra, right? Certainly not me. Usually, that is.”
Right, of course. It was just his luck that Cyno had left at the same time Kaveh was roaming the house instead of hammering away in the privacy of his own bedroom. Alhaitham stares unseeingly at his plate.
“Did he—” He stops himself and shakes his head.
“What?”
Kaveh nudges his shoulder when he fails to reply. Alhaitham shoots him a glare, but Kaveh just looks at him with curious eyes. Somehow, it coaxes the words out of him.
“Was he in a bad mood?” He asks quietly.
“Uh, he looked like he was about to cry, if that's what you mean." Kaveh winces, and Alhaitham mentally mirrors the sentiment. "I’ve never seen him make that kind of face before. What the hell did you do? Do we need to move out?”
“Don’t make it sound like I’d take you with me," Alhaitham mutters darkly. "No, Cyno isn’t as vengeful as people think. Besides, it’s not that sort of situation.”
“Then what kind is it?”
“It’s comp—”
“Please don’t tell me you're about to say ‘it’s complicated.’” Kaveh laughs. “I never thought I’d hear that from you, it’s so… mundane. You’re not special just because you broke his heart or whatever it is you did. Seriously, what did you do? Have a fight? Scratch that, fighting is part of your dynamic, pretty sure you treat it as foreplay. Hm, break up with him? Wait! You didn’t cheat on Cyno, did you?!”
“Do I really look like the kind of person to do that?" Alhaitham spits out tersely. "Be quiet for a moment, the less words you utter the better."
He waits exactly ten seconds. Once he has confirmation that Kaveh won't launch into another tirade, he continues, "I didn’t break up with him." A pause. Then, quieter, "There’s nothing to break up.”
“Let me get this straight," Kaveh starts, each syllable unbearably slow. "You're having a casual fling… with Cyno?”
“That’s not exactly—”
“With Cyno ? The straightforward, serious guy who doesn’t do anything by halves?" He throws his hands up into the air. "Seriously, Alhaitham.”
“I’m going to kick you out," Alhaitham decides.
“You can’t threaten to leave me homeless every time I say something you don’t like!”
“I can certainly try.”
Kaveh isn't intimidated by the threat. Instead, he breathes in deeply and lays both hands on Alhaitham's shoulders.
“Listen, I get it." He nods his head sympathetically. "You have no experience with relationships, not a lot of people like you to begin with.”
“Kaveh—” He warns darkly.
“But Cyno isn’t the kind of person to get involved with someone casually . Whatever you two are doing, he only accepted it because he likes you. With that kind of person, you either date them or you keep your distance—a whole nation away, if you have to." Here, he stops and swears under his breath. "I mean, shit, you two are coworkers to boot.”
Alhaitham digested that information. Kaveh is observant in his own right, and much better at sympathizing with others and their feelings. He also has no reason to lie, nothing to gain from it. He'd make Alhaitham's life a living hell at any opportunity, but not if it drags Cyno down along with him.
“You actually believe that."
“In what, exactly?”
“That he likes me.”
Kaveh's mouth gapes open far enough Alhaitham can see the half-chewed food on his tongue. He forcefully pushes Kaveh's jaw shut, satisfied at the painful clack of his teeth. The shock is apparently enough to keep Kaveh from complaining. He simply rubs his jaw and gawks at Alhaitham like he's an undiscovered slime species.
“Have you been keeping Cyno at arm’s length because you thought you were a pity fuck or something?” Kaveh asks bluntly.
“More like pent-up stress fuck," Alhaitham shrugs, "but if you want to put it that way.”
“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous. I hate you, get out of my sight." Kaveh sets his fork down and pushes Alhaitham down from his stool. "Go after him.”
Refusing to budge, Alhaitham glares at his roommate.
“He’ll be long gone by now.”
“Okay, just— trust me. Just this once, actually listen to me and do it. Go after him.”
He's serious enough that Alhaitham just rolls his eyes.
“Fine.”
Kaveh throws his coat at his face and firmly slams the door shut as soon as he steps out of the house. He hears the distinct sound of the lock turning. Part of him is sure this is just petty revenge, but Alhaitham steps out all the same.
He’s underdressed to be out of the house, his nightwear peeking out from under his coat. Alhaitham burrows deeper into his one layer of protection and walks aimlessly. It’s hard to say where Cyno would’ve gone this early in the morning—for all Alhaitham knows, he could be well on his way to Caravan Ribat for a mission. He doesn’t want to give up just yet, because Kaveh’s judgemental face is one of his least favorite of his expressions. It feels too much like defeat.
Instead, he walks the familiar path to the Akademiya. If nothing else, the height would give him a better view of the city. The occasional scholar gives him strange looks as he makes his way up, but Alhaitham ignores them. He walks all the way up to the terrace by the House of Daena, and a lone figure fills his field of vision.
His eyes catch on the fake animal ears first. There’s only one person who wears that sort of garb in the Akademiya, and Alhaitham had unconsciously trained himself to spot it even in the most dense of crowds. Cyno leans against the railing by the entrance to the House of Daena, his face obscured by the hood of his cloak.
For a moment, his mind goes strangely blank. He realizes he never decided on what to say if he found Cyno. All Alhaitham focused on was to prove Kaveh wrong, leaning on the comfort that Cyno would’ve disappeared by now so he wouldn’t have to give the possible conversation any thought. Foolishly, he thinks to turn on his heels and never look back.
Cyno makes the decision for him. He shuffles, turning to leave, and looks right back at Alhaitham before he can move away. They do nothing but stand there, allowing the cold to settle into their skin. Alhaitham can’t tell if the tremor in his hands is caused by the weather or something else entirely.
“Cyno,” he breathes into the morning air, the name turning to mist before he can hold it safe within his mouth.
There’s vulnerability in the way Cyno looks at him, quiet and resolute. Melancholy hangs off his shoulders like weights, clear enough that even Alhaitham notices. He makes a half-aborted movement—not quite a step, just a subtle shuffle towards Alhaitham. Cyno holds himself back, arms crossed, expression shuttering all at once. One blink and it’s all gone, all the little signs of emotions that had leaked through his rigid demeanor.
“What are you doing here?” Cyno asks.
“I… I thought I wouldn’t find you.”
If possible, Cyno's face falls even further. “Sorry to disappoint your expectations, then,” he scoffs.
This time, Cyno does move: sure, firm steps in the opposite direction, away from him. Alhaitham hurries forward and catches him by the upper arm.
“That's not it," he explains. Usually, he'd measure his words, pick them carefully. He'd never allow any touch of emotion to color his voice. Right now, however, he realizes he's about to lose Cyno if he doesn't get his point across quickly. It makes him clumsy, the words come tumbling down unbidden. "The bed, it was cold when I woke up.”
“I’m sure that was inconvenient for you,” Cyno spits out.
Alhaitham tugs on his arms, whirling Cyno around and forcing him to look at Alhaitham. “Stop misconstruing everything I say, that is not what I mean.”
Cyno is a small storm before his eyes, powerful enough to destroy him to his core. His scowl bears no resemblance to the flushed face Alhaitham had the privilege to witness in the confines of his room, there's none of the hint of a smile that was pressed against his mouth when they kissed.
“‘Just this once, just tonight,’” Cyno echoes. “You said that, last night. Am I misconstruing that too?"
Alhaitham presses his lips into a thin line. "No. I said exactly that."
"Right."
Cyno chuckles without humor. When he pulls away, Alhaitham doesn't stop him. He ignores how cold his fingers feel when they're no longer touching Cyno.
"I'm not blaming you for this, I'm— not blaming you for anything," Cyno tells him sincerely. "You told me what you wanted, and I said yes like a complete fool. That's all there is to it."
He doesn't quite choke on his words, but there's a drop to it, a subtle stutter. Suddenly, Alhaitham understands what Kaveh meant when he said Cyno looked like he was about to cry.
"Do you regret it?"
Cyno doesn't answer, he just holds his gaze in that steady way that only Cyno is capable of. It's not the time to think so but gods be damned, he looks beautiful. His eyes catch the sunrise like jewels, the sad little smile on his lips so hypnotizing Alhaitham thinks of kissing them without a single thought to the consequences. Cyno is beautiful and slipping through his fingers due to nothing but his own foolish words.
Tentatively, Alhaitham cups Cyno's face in his palms, tilting his head up as he leaned in closer.
"You've misunderstood me," Alhaitham whispers. "I haven't told you what I want at all."
"Then what is it you're trying to obtain, Alhaitham? I thought you got it already. Last night—" He swallows thickly and looks away. "I’m not here to play games.”
“I came looking for you. I didn't know if you’d be here—or anywhere at all, really—but I came all the same. For you. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t."
He holds Cyno a little tighter, thumbs dipping into the comfortable give of his cheeks.
“I woke up and the bed was cold," he tries again, really tries. Alhaitham needs Cyno to see what he feels, he needs to reaffirm that it's not just him left bereft whenever they're apart. "I was alone and I thought I dreamed you in my arms last night. I woke up and you weren’t there like I wished.”
“You wanted me to stay the morning." Cyno searches Alhaitham's eyes for answers. His face is still shuttered, still distant—like he'd never dare allowing himself a little hope.
It's so infuriatingly stubborn, it's so simply Cyno he can't stop himself from smiling.
“I wanted you , Cyno," Alhaitham says fervently. "In any way you’ll have me, which I believed was not at all.”
“You’re a foolish man. If you think I bed any person that comes asking—”
“I don’t." And this time, he does kiss him, quick and chaste. "I’ll admit to being an idiot, as long as it gets you to stay.”
Cyno sways, eyes a little hazy as he looks up at Alhaitham with all the uncertainty and desire of someone unaccustomed to getting what he wants. Alhaitham doesn't promise him the impossible, but it's a near thing. Instead, he gives the only thing in his right to offer: his own heart, offered up in another kiss, in the touch of skin to skin as he strokes the Cyno's jaw.
He tastes a little rain, a mix of ozone and morning dew. But Cyno’s nothing like water: he's ever so firm, a lean wall of muscles and warm skin even through the layers of fabric. Cyno's achingly solid in Alhaitham's arms.
“For how long?” Cyno asks between his lips.
“An hour, a year. An eternity even, however long you desire."
Cyno presses closer, teeth and tongue and nails, wielded against his skin like finely sharpened weapons. Alhaitham can't do much more than hold on, a bruising hand on Cyno's waist.
"Just stay."
Hold on and refuse to let go.