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Lyney leaned in the mirror, makeup brush in hand, lining the corners of his eyes with sharp precision. It was typically a relaxing activity for him—a chance to unwind backstage, to dress himself up for the upcoming performance—but the incessant cling-ing noise reverberating through the dressing room had danced on his last nerve.
He looked behind him in the mirror to find the cavalry captain leaning against a wall and mindlessly flipping a coin, who then turned to smile at him when their eyes met in the reflection.
This sprung up a scheme that twisted in the cogs of Lyney's mind as his gaze flitted between the captain and the gold coin.
He could hardly hide the curl of his lips.
“What are you doing, mon chérie?” he purred.
“Just thinking.” Kaeya threw the coin up again— cling— and caught it, twisting it in his gloved palm.
Again.
Cling.
And again.
Cling.
Cling.
Lyney gritted his teeth and set down the brush, now turning to the man. “You know, you could think more quietly.”
Kaeya only smirked. “But where would be the fun in that?” He threw the coin up again, donning a shit-eating grin and giving the other a wink (or a blink? Lyney couldn't tell from the eyepatch covering the man's other eye).
Sick of the noise, the magician scoffed and abruptly snapped his fingers. In an instant, the coin simply vanished midair.
“What the—“ he sputtered, catching onto nothing but air. “Where did you—how—“
“Ah,” Lyney clicked his tongue. “How many times do I have to remind you that a magician never reveals his secrets?”
“Right…” Kaeya dropped his hand and crossed his arms, letting out a slight sigh against the wall. He studied Lyney’s face, noticing that ever-present beaming pride on his expression whenever he managed to draw bewilderment from the other. The knight couldn’t help the fondness that was now tugging at his chest. “Could you give that back, then? I’m sure stealing from a foreign government official wouldn’t be looked upon too kindly under Fontaine's legal jurisdiction.”
“Oh? But captain,” the magician cooed, smiling widely. “I never even stole a thing.”
Lyney leaned in until he could feel the other’s breath hitch at the proximity, then gently reached behind his ear, pulling out a single golden mora. “Look at that; it was right there all along. You had your coin the entire time.”
Kaeya’s eye went wide as he met the other’s soft violet irises. “How did you…” he trailed off, losing his words in that mirthful stare. Something swelled up into his throat as he picked apart the unspoken want in Lyney’s gaze.
Oh. His heart hammered in his chest, and he prayed that the other wouldn’t notice.
But Lyney simply laughed, light and hearty, before going to grab Kaeya’s hand. Gently, he enclosed the other’s fingers around the coin and reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. “Mon trésor, you always fall for the simplest tricks, don’t you? And here I was thinking the infamous, cunning cavalry captain could never be fooled.”
They were so close that Kaeya could feel the magician’s every word on his lips. He leaned into the sensation, mere centimeters from the other. “Then why don’t you show me another one, hm? Maybe I’ll see through your act this time.” His voice was low and soft, almost beckoning.
And Lyney indulged him.
He closed the distance, brushing his lips against the other’s—testing the waters—before melting into the kiss. It was warm and sweet, tasting like the wine from the nearby bar, yet utterly electrifying. Lyney’s arms wrapped around Kaeya’s neck, and the knight placed his hands on the other’s waist, pulling him closer. They meshed together seamlessly, with every kiss sending blood thundering in their hearts and warming their lips. Neither dared to pull away, too entranced with each other’s presence to let go.
It was magnetic; it was hypnotizing. It was an ever-present amalgamation of every shared moment and broken-down wall, every spilled secret and gentle understanding.
It was their own 'magic', behind the stage, with no other audience than their own entwined heartbeats. It was no act, no performance. Just the honest touches of their most vulnerable selves. But they would hold tightly to one another—just like that, in the dim fluorescent lights—like it was their greatest show yet.