Work Text:
At first, Wanderer never thought he would have to tell Sethos. The other man started out as a simple annoyance, the first time Sethos saw him he had shouted out “Hat Guy!” and despite Wanderer’s best attempt, his cheery voice calling out became a regular occurrence (albeit one Wanderer would run away from, high in the boughs of the divine tree). But, eventually, Wanderer began to look forward to that cheerful tone, to that easily excitable voice.
It wasn’t until a few months into their… mutual observation that they had a face to face conversation. Wanderer was resting in one of the lower branches of the divine tree, taking in the bustle of the city below him when he was startled by the sound of footsteps on wood. Before he even has time to think, an arrow of wind was slicing past the intruder’s face, rushing past his curly hair to dissipate with a thud against the body of the tree.
Wanderer relaxes slightly when he realizes it is only Sethos, and turns back to watch the stream of people below— now slowing as the sun ekes closer to the horizon and dusk begins to dawn. He remains vigilant of Sethos’s presence behind him, tracking as he walks forward and takes a seat next to Wanderer. They remain silent for only a short time— short for Wanderer that is— before Sethos makes a remark on the sunset. “I think sunsets look different here. More vibrant.” Wanderer scoffs. “Are you an idiot? If anything it would seem less colorful up here. The higher up you are, the less particles in the air, and the clearer the sunset.” He leans back slightly, crossing one leg over the other. “Ooh! I didn’t know that!” Sethos’s voice becomes far more animated once Wanderer has responded to him, and internally he sighs at the offer he is about to make. “I could take you up higher. To see a more pronounced difference.”
Sethos looks at him as if he hung the stars in the sky. “Really?” His hands clasp together and he tilts his head, and Wanderer is struck by the visual of a puppy, begging for love. He shakes that thought out of his head quickly. “Don’t make me regret it.” Sethos looks remarkably alarmed at that statement, and holds up his arms to wave them in a placating motion. “Ah no wait- please take me up?” Wanderer looks to the side, suddenly thankful for the lack of blood in his body, for he knows his cheeks would be burning red from the image of Sethos’s pleading face.
He takes Sethos into a bridal carry, ignoring the surprised yelp from the other man as the wood under their feet rapidly disappears. Sethos grabs onto Wanderers shoulders with a firm grip, his eyes scrunched tightly shut. When Wanderer touches back down on a branch, he is almost reluctant to let go of Sethos, the warmth of the other man drawing him in. But, he sees Sethos’s eyes start to open, and quickly places him down, arms falling to his sides as he stares off into the distance and questions himself.
Never before has he felt this way about someone or something. It was an odd mix, a little of the protectiveness he felt over the child, a little of the companionship he felt with Niwa, and the burning he had felt with Tartaglia. He shakes his head, not wanting to think of the other man right now, and instead looks out at the sunset. Sumeru really is stunning, the lively landscape much more appealing than Inazuma. Sethos also seems to be in awe, his eyes open wide to take in as much as he can. “Wow” he breathes, “it really is paler up here!” He seems to be amazed by something so simple, and Wanderer scoffs. “Did you truly not know this? Laughable.”
It is not, in fact, laughable.
It was a phenomenon that Wanderer had noticed himself, then gone to research. It had been only recently discovered, only one short paper written by a student whose darshan he had already forgotten. Wanderer doubts the majority of people would know about it. For his credit, Sethos takes the dig at his intelligence in stride. “Nope!” He takes a moment to laugh slightly. “I’m no scholar, that’s for sure.” Wanderer shakes his head, moving to sit down. “Quite the idiotic bee indeed.” Sethos pouts at this. “Hey! I said I wasn’t a scholar, not that I was a fool!” His cheeks are puffed out the slightest bit, and Wanderer swears he can feel the heat emanating from them. Wanderer ignores him in favor of looking at the scenery, but he is aware of Sethos sitting down next to him, both feet dangling over the edge of the branch.
He catches himself almost telling Sethos to pull his feet back up, that it’s dangerous, but stops himself. Nahida must be rubbing off on him more than he thought.
(And she truly is, for a voice that sounds suspiciously like hers speaks in the back of his mind, telling him that worrying about the safety of someone he cares for is normal. He ignores the fact that the voice acknowledges that he cares for Sethos.)
They sit in silence until the sun had ducked down past the horizon, stars beginning to dot the night sky like holes in a tapestry. Wanderer is almost impressed with Sethos, surprised the usually talkative man could go so long without speaking. Sethos, for his part, thinks he has done very well not making a fool of himself in front of the elegant and aloof Hat Guy.
(He never did get his name, Sethos realizes as he makes his way through the near-empty streets. He was too focused on not falling over himself. Damn. He supposes that he can just ask next time. If there is one.)
There is a next time, and a next time after that, and another after that, and soon it is almost a ritual that they watch the sunset together. Hat Guy has stopped throwing sharpened blades of wind at Sethos’s neck when he steps onto the lower bough, and Sethos sees this as a huge win. He especially sees this as a win since it means that- in some capacity- Hat Guy has been observing Sethos close enough to recognize how he climbs onto the tree, and the idea of such an untouchable man paying attention to him sends a thrill up his spine. It feels special.
He supposes his fascination with the man is a little odd, if he really looks into it. They’ve exchanged only a few conversations, with the smallest amount of sentences possible in those conversations. Usually it’s mostly Hat Guy insulting his intelligence.
(And he should definitely do some soul searching about how that makes him feel, about the fission of heat that will curl down his spine whenever Hat Guy looks at him as if he is no more than dirt, and speaks to him as such.)
His thoughts are abruptly brought to a halt by that condescending voice he has come to be so familiar with, emanating from a tree above him, “I'd say you're no errand boy at all. You've got a more important role."
There is a pause as he looks up, trying to find Hat Guy.
"I'd say that you're no student either. You've got a more important role."
He’s not sure where the words come from, but once he says them he finds them true. No simple student would be trusted to deliver important letters from the Akademya, would dare to climb on the divine tree, or would act as comfortable as he does around the sanctuary of sethsurna. Hat Guy’s small tsk as he pulls down the brim of his hat brings Sethos back to reality- just in time to watch the other man seemingly disappear into thin air.
He sighs in defeat, looking around the area quickly to search for him- more of a habit now, as he knows that either Hat Guy truly does disappear, or knows how to make himself perfectly hidden from the human eye. Another sigh as he looks down at his lunchbox. He truly would have liked to share his food with Hat Guy, and as he walks up the stairs with a pep in his step, he promises that the next time they meet, he will get Hat Guys name.
He does not, in fact, get his name. Not his true name, anyways. When Sethos asks him he just shrugs, nonchalant. “You can call me Wanderer if you’d like. I know the traveler has a nickname for me if you want to ask them.” Sethos is momentarily confused at his seeming lack of a name, but simply nods. The silence after, when they go back to watching the sunset seems a little more relaxed than before, even if Sethos doesn’t entirely understand why.
He does go to the traveler the next day, stopping by their inn early in the morning. He doesn’t expect a name as elegant as Hasu sounds, though in hindsight, it makes sense that someone as pretty as Wanderer would also have pretty nicknames. He thanks the traveler before he heads off, but he doesn’t use Hasu. It’s a good name, perfectly divine for someone like Wanderer, but it’s the travelers nickname. Perhaps a little selfishly, he wants to give Wanderer a name.
(And perhaps it is more than a name he wants to give, but a home, and acceptance. He doesn’t question the depths of his feelings for the other man, mostly because that would mean questioning why he even talked to Wanderer in the first place.)
~
When he leaves to go back to the desert for a short time, Wanderer is the last person he expects to meet in Caravan Ribbat. The other man seems out of place, his Inazuman style of dress and pale skin making him stick out like a sore thumb— and indeed Sethos notices a few suspicious stares. Wanderer immediately walks over when he spots Sethos, pulling down the brim of his hat to shade his face more.
Sethos smiles brightly, bouncing on his toes. “I didn’t expect to see you here!” Wanderer just scowls. “Are you here to meet someone?” Sethos looks around on his tippy toes, trying to see if there was anyone Wanderer might want to meet with. Wanderer exhales, looking away. “…You.” Sethos cocks his head, confused. “Me?” Wanderer groans quietly, muttering something under his breath, the only words which Sethos can make out being god, stupid, and pointless. A very interesting combination, and one that certainly piques his interest. Wanderer, however, seems not to pick up on his burning curiosity- or simply chooses to ignore it. Instead, he looks behind Sethos, at the sumpter beast he has lightly loaded for the short trip. Wanderer eyes it with disdain. “You’re really taking that?” He sounds genuinely shocked and a little concerned, while Sethos stares at him, baffled. “How else am I supposed to cross the desert?”
Wanderer mutters a small “Ah.” Before shaking his head. “You h- people always have so much less agility than what I expect.” He shoots another disparaging glance at the sumpter beast. “How far away is it?” Sethos scratches awkwardly at his neck. “How far away is what?” Wanderer shoots him a strong look and he cringes a bit. “Okay okay! It’s not that far, a few hours maybe.” And then, Wanderers face splits into a smile that screams ‘I’m about to say/do something that would be frowned upon in polite company, but I know will work’ and he grabs Sethos by the hand and dashes off at an almost inhuman pace- Sethos’s muscles are straining to keep up.
When they arrive at their destination- some random place outside of Caravan Ribat- Sethos doubles over with a groan. “Jeez-” he says between pants, “maybe warn a guy next time?” Wanderer looks utterly disappointed in him, but crosses his arms across his chest, letting Sethos catch his breath- and letting his brain catch up to current events. Sethos groans again as he stands up straight again, and looks at Wanderer. “Okay so… do I get any explanation?” Wanderer shrugs. “You said the journey would take a few hours. I can get us there in one.” Sethos sputters. “I- what- how-?” Wanderer’s smile screams of the fact that he is enjoying Sethos’s confusion. “If you direct me, of course.” Sethos huffs, crossing his arms and turning half away. “Fine. Keep your secrets.” He cracks open one eye to see Wanderer staring at him, exasperated, and his fake pout breaks into a smile. At Wanderer’s long-suffering sigh he falls into laughter, clear and bright under the early evening sun.
He bumps Wanderers shoulder cheerfully, exclaiming “Alright then! Let’s get a move on!” Wanderer nods, the metal pieces on his hat clinking as he does. He steps forward, eyeing Sethos for a second before stating “This will probably be easiest if you’re on my back.” Sethos’s brain only short circuits for a second before he nods vigorously. “Yeah no- yep yes that seems like it will work. Easiest.” Wanderer shoots him a strange look, but motions for Sethos to get onto his back anyways, which he does without tripping over himself once.
(A fact that he is very proud of, mind you. He has never had this much contact with Wanderers body, and he is definitely panicking internally as he fights a blush.)
Wanderers slender fingers are gripping the backs of his thighs with a firm grip, and he appears to be having no trouble at all holding Sethos’s weight, a fact that is making him absolutely swoon. He jumps when Wanderer clears his throat, having forgotten he is supposed to be giving directions. “Right! Sorry sorry, got lost in thought there. So for now just follow the path to Aaru village, then when we get there just take a left but not where the path goes it’s… and the entrance should be underneath that cliff.” He stops to take a breath. “Got all that?” Wanderer blinks once before nodding. “Yes.” And without any further warning, Sethos feels the gust of wind seemingly expelled from Wanderers body, pushing them up into the air.
Sethos yelps in surprise, arms involuntarily tightening around Wanderers neck. He feels more than hears Wanderer’s soft chuckle, an exhalation of breath that tickles Sethos’s fingers. Sethos feels his cheeks burning, and has to fight the urge to shove his face in Wanderers neck to hide it. It is while he is considering doing this that he notices the electro sigil on Wanderer’s neck, seemingly carved into his skin and glowing bright as anemo blows through it. He considers asking about it, but decides against it, instead turning sideways to inspect their surroundings while they fly. However, it continues to torment his brain, curiosity starting as a persistent itch before turning into an all consuming need to understand. He makes it maybe an hour before he can hold back no longer, and he blurts out “Hey what’s this electro sigil about?” too quickly to filter. He feels as they stutter in the air, and how Wanderers grip on his thighs tightens slightly, and immediately backtracks. “Ah no wait- I was just curious- really you don’t need to answer-” He takes a breath to continue but is met with Wanderers cold voice, any of the warmth that had built up in it gone. “A remnant of someone. Don’t ask about it again.”
Sethos sucks in a breath, but nods and agrees. “Yeah thats- yeah. Sorry.” His voice lacks the usual enthusiasm, and the air around them feels awkward. Sethos tries to simply look at the scenery and finds himself admiring the sunset. “It really is more orange here!” He breathes the excited words into Wanderers ear, and he feels the other man shiver slightly. “I told you so. It’s much more orange here. It would be even more orange if I went lower.” Sethos is suddenly struck by inspiration, excitedly saying “Oh! We should stop and take a break down there!” He points to a small clump of trees below them. “You’ve been non stop using your vision for almost an hour, you must be tired.” Wander doesn’t verbally agree, but they begin to quickly lose altitude, and it is not long before Sethos’s feet meet sand.
He stretches with a small groan, extending his arms high above his head and arching his back. He quickly runs through a short series of stretches, and when he finishes he finds Wanderer staring intently at him. He cocks his head to the side “Whatcha starin at?” Wanderer jolts slightly. “Ah. Nothing.” His voice still sounds cold from earlier and Sethos winces. He hesitantly steps closer, the soft sand giving way beneath his feet. “I- I really didn’t mean anything bad with my question earlier, I just saw the mark and was curious. Really.” Wanderer scoffs. “Its fine. I told you to never bring it up again, no?” Sethos struggles to find words, and Wanderer is already getting up. “Come on. It’s not long from here. At least, it shouldn’t be.” Sethos chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah no it’s uh. It’s pretty close now.” He bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet nervously, almost rushing forwards when Wanderer indicates him to get on his back.
There is more silence as they travel on this leg of the trip, and after a time Sethos decides to simply lay his head on Wanderers shoulder. He immediately feels a small stutter and a minute tightening of Wanderers fingers, but fights off a blush and the urge to ask him about it, keeping his eyes closed and letting the wind rush past his face.
(Wanderer’s hands don’t loosen their grip for the entire rest of the fight, and secretly, greedily, Sethos hopes it leaves a mark.)
Wanderer seems confused, at first, but quickly recovers and follows Sethos in when the temple is revealed. He seems impressed- not with the lingering air of a god that Sethos feels in the air- but simply with the architecture. His head is swiveling as they walk, taking in the walls and decorations adorning them as they walk past. Sethos feels bad interrupting him, so he holds off until the last minute. “This is uh. This is the door to my room.” Wanderer raises a brow. “Okay? Am I staying here?” Sethos ducks his head, a little embarrassed. “No I just- I thought you might want to know in case you need something later.” Wanderer looks as if he wants to argue, or at least say a scathing remark, but holds himself back and shrugs. “Fine. Where are my quarters? I would-” He stops himself, looking thoughtfully at Sethos. “Nevermind. Show me to my room.” Sethos looks at him for a moment, wondering what he had stopped himself from saying, but in the end decides it doesn’t matter. “Right. Okay it’s just down the hallway over here!” He turns to walk around the corner, Wanderer following him from behind. He can feel Wanderer’s gaze, a heavy weight that feels almost physical, and he wonders what the man is staring so intently at.
When they reach the door to one of the currently vacant rooms Sethos opens it with little fanfare. It has a bed with clean (if a tad bit dusty) sheets, a small bookshelf and chest of drawers. “This is uh, this is where you’ll be staying.” Wanderer shrugs, moving into the room past him. “Alright.” He eyes the dusty bed for a moment before turning back to Sethos. “I’ll see you in the morning then?” His voice is softer, even by just a margin, and it makes Sethos’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. “Olay! See you tomorrow!” He flashes a wide grin at Wanderer, and is pleased to see him shake his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation before closing the door. He has a little more pep in his step as he goes back to his room, and he has to breathe deeply to calm the butterflies in his stomach. He doesn’t even know why he’s being so affected by that one simple sentence, but the knowledge that Wanderer has forgiven him for his careless comment earlier sends his brain into overdrive. He truly hs come to care for the man deeply, despite his prickly exterior.
He is in his room and contemplating— having divested himself of most of the dangling ornaments on his attire— when he feels the urge to go outside. It is an ungodly time of night, the stars and moon hanging high in the sky and shining like little gems, but really that just means there is no one to witness the oddity of his behavior. Plus, it would serve as a nice change of scenery, and a way to clear his head. He had been staring at the ceiling of his room as if it can answer his complicated feelings, and perhaps the breeze on his skin and a splash of cool water will help. He jumps out of bed, mind made up.
There is, of course, no one awake at this hour, and he is surprised to see the light blown out in Wanderers room as well. It’s not like he checked there specifically. It was just on the way. No matter it’s the opposite direction to the doors. As soon as he exits he is very pleased with his decision, taking a moment to appreciate the quiet night air and cool wind ruffling his hair. For as lofty as the Temple of Silence is, the individual rooms that branch off the main hall can get very stuffy, and more often than not are stiflingly warm. He takes off his shoes as he walks, relishing in the feel of sand under his feet. He had always loved the way sand felt, the small particles of it giving way under the slightest pressure, yet being strong enough to create a landscape. It was almost inspiring perhaps, how small and insignificant a grain of sand is— and yet they are vital to creating such a large environment. And not to mention how pretty it was under the moon (or sun), the pale light making look as if it is glowing silver. He had often seen someone, a man he now put together as being Kaveh, walking through the desert at night, seemingly finding the same peace in it that he did. He thinks they would be good friends if they met. Companions in the appreciation of something so widely seen as a useless wasteland.
Lost in his thoughts, he gets to the pool of water quickly, only realizing when he feels water lapping at his toes. When he looks up he is gobsmacked by what he sees. Wanderer, without his hat. On second glance, without any clothes either, as he sits in the oasis. Crystalflies and regular lightning bugs float around him, their soft glow making him seem even more ethereal. On his third glance, Sethos manages to tear his eyes away from the graceful planes of Wanderers face long enough to realize that the tattoos- for they are tattoos Sethos now realizes- scrawling across his body are glowing faintly with anemo, fading in and out in small pulses. Presumably, this is what has drawn the lightning bugs to him.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” His almost condescending voice surprises Sethos so much he nearly jumps. Scara stifles a laugh but his lips twitch slightly. He opens his indigo eyes, fixing Sethos with a petrifying stare. “Well?” Sethos nearly trips as he hurries to explain himself, words falling from his mouth overlapping and incomprehensible. Wanderer raises one slender hand from the water in a stop motion, and Sethos’s mouth shuts with a click. He watches as a droplet of water runs down the clear skin of Wanderer’s hand, sliding over his defined wrist bone and back into the water. “I didn’t mean anything by it- I swear! I just wanted to get some air and- I- you’resoprettyIcouldn’thelpbutlook!” The last part comes out in a jumbled mess, and Sethos can feel the blush spreading across his cheeks as he realizes what he has just said.
The slow pulsing of the anemo veins stops abruptly, and in its absence the lighting bugs slowly float away, their light reflecting warmly off the water of the pool. In Wanderers lack of a response Sethos blurts out an apology and runs back to the temple, face aflame. He thinks he hears the sound of splashing water behind him, but doesn’t try to turn and find out what’s happening.
When he gets back to his room, he can’t do anything more than sit heavily on his bed, face clutched in his hands. He’s not sure how to feel at the moment- he’s relieved that he’s finally gotten his feelings out, but at the same time he’s probably ruined the relationship between them. He lets out a groan and curls up, putting his head between his knees. Gods it was stupid of him to leave. He could’ve explained himself, or played it off as a joke. But instead he ran, and now Wanderer definitely knows that his feelings are romantic. He groans again, raising his head and dragging a hand down his face.
He jumps when a loud knocking rings through his room. He sits there for a moment, until another knock sounds, and he jumps into action. He opens the door and is face to face with Wanderer. His skin seems a little dewy, like it is still wet, and he is not fully dressed- only wearing his shorts and bodysuit. Sethos’s breath catches in his throat at the sight, not expecting the expanse of milky white skin being shown.
They part with a gasp, Sethos’s chest heaving as he breathes heavily. Wanderer still has no blush on his cheeks, but his eyes are lidded, their usual almost-glow darkened. Sethos shifts, feeling a little wobbly as he stands in the doorway. Wanderer raises a brow. “Are you going to let me in now?” Sethos’s brain seems to reset at those words, and he blinks rapidly for a moment. “Oh uh, right.” He steps aside, opening the door wide so Wanderer can step in. The purple haired man exhales sharply from his nose as he walks past, dropping the rest of his outfit on a small table. He must have picked it up from the floor while Sethos had been reeling from their kiss.
Right. Their kiss. They kissed. He kissed Wanderer.
On the lips.
He whirls around to face Wanderer, cheeks aflame anew, and finds him already staring, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I uh-” Wanderer holds up a hand to stop him. “Save the stuttering.” Sethos’s mouth shuts with a clack. “Good. Now, I can take what you said back there as you being attracted to me, yes?” Sethos nods, and gods Wanderer is hot when he’s being bossy. Wanderers lips curl up into a smirk, and it feels a little mean, but he thinks he might like that- he’s having to reevaluate some things about himself in light of the evenings going-ons. Wanderer steps forward, crowding Sethos towards the closed door. “That was surprisingly painless. I figured you would try to run, or avoid the question.” Sethos’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Then, you feel the same way about me?” Wanderer’s nose crinkles. “Is it not obvious? I don’t go around shoving my tongue into people’s mouths who I don't like.” He pauses. “Well, maybe one person. But that was many years ago.”
Sethos is, frankly, a little surprised that Wanderer has kissed anyone before. He himself has only had short, fleeting experiences, nothing to truly qualify as a kiss. Well until now, and he is surprisingly eager to do it again. He steps forward, closer to Wanderer. He raises a brow. “Oh? Eager, are we?” Sethos nods subtly. He feels awkward, out of his depth here, and it’s not a feeling he’s entirely used to. But at the same time, Wanderer is clearly experienced in this area and it is somehow exhilarating to let go of being in charge, to let go of knowing what to do and allow someone else to take the lead. He can feel his own breath hitch when Wanderer grabs his chin, forcing his gaze up just slightly to make their eyes meet. He has never noticed the slight difference in their height– it can’t be more than an inch– but it serves to make him feel
extraordinarily small right now. Wanderer’s voice is almost condescending, his smile feeling a little mean. “Tell me. What do you want?”
“Kiss me?” Sethos’s voice comes out a little quieter than he would’ve liked, but Wanderer complies, leaning forwards and pressing their lips together. It is gentler than their previous kiss at the door– Wanderer’s lips slightly chapped from the wind of flying them all the way here– but still so warm, so soft. Wanderer’s hand slides from being on his chin to cradle the back of his head, running through the shorter strands of hair on the nape of his neck. The action causes him to whimper into their kiss, sparks of heat rushing down his spine and settling low in his belly. It seems to go on forever, and when they finally part he is panting, a low scarlet undertone tinting his cheeks. “Gods do you, do you not need to breathe or something?” His voice is breathy, and his lips pull into a small smile. Wanderer isn’t smiling. “No. I don’t.” Sethos’s smile falters slightly. “You– you’re not joking are you?” The tone in the room seems to suddenly shift to something more serious, and Wanderer seems more distant, pulling away from their close contact. “I’m not.” His hand slides down from Sethos’s neck, resting lightly on his hip instead. “Are you human?” Wanderer pulls away even further, only his fingertips staying connected with Sethos’s body. “No.”
Sethos is still a little bit hazy from the admission of feelings and their kiss, but even his running at half capacity brain can tell that Wanderer is priming himself for rejection, as if he thinks that Sethos will scorn him, or push him away. That idea is, Sethos thinks, complete bullshit. He leans into the featherlight touch on his hip, Wanderer’s head turning around immediately. “I know this needs to be an actual conversation, but right now the most important thing is that I don’t give a damn if you’re not human.” Wanderer scoffs, but turns fully, resting his other hand on Sethos’s left hip. “That’s idiotic. You don’t even know what I am outside of generic ‘not human’.” Sethos smiles. “Then why don’t you tell me?” Wanderer’s grip on his hips tightens a fraction— a sign that Sethos has begun to learn means that he is uncomfortable with the situation or conversation.
He is going to tell Wanderer that he doesn’t actually have to— that that information wasn’t important to their current situation and could be dealt with later when he responds. “Puppet. And god for a day.” Well then. That was certainly not an answer Sethos was expecting. The puppet thing was surprising, but certainly explained many unexplainable things about Wanderer— his unnatural strength, his inability to blush, his colder-than-average skin. What really shocked him though, was the part about being a god. He says as much, sputtering out the words with pure surprise painted on his expression. “God?!” Wanderer shrugs. “It was only for a day. Blame the Akademiya.” His thumbs move in idle circles over Sethos’s clothes while he waits for a response, but the action makes it extremely difficult to focus on constructing a sentence. Eventually though, he manages it.
“We definitely need to talk about this later but right now can we please go back to where we were before I made my stupid joke I swear I didn’t mean anything by it.” Wanderer’s lips quirk into a small grin, the serious expression bleeding from his face. “And where were we exactly? You’ll have to jog my memory.” Sethos groans, and the grin only gets wider. “I don’t know— me having the best first kiss of my life? Just please your lips are so soft I-” He trails off as he sees the way Wanderer is looking at him. “Did- did I say something wrong again? I really didn’t mean to- mmph!”
He is surprised by the ferocity with which Wanderer kisses him, tongue pressing insistently at the seam of his lips. Of course he parts them, letting the other man push his tongue into his mouth, whining into their interlocking lips as the kiss becomes so much filthier. Wanderer slots a leg between his thighs and he moans, breaking their kiss. With a chuckle Wanderer backs them up to the small bed, pushing Sethos down onto it, but continuing to stand himself. “And now? Where do you think we are now?” Sethos swallows heavily, looking up at Wanderer with eyes swirling with lust. Syrupy heat pours down his spine and settles low in his stomach at the way Wanderer is almost looking down on him, like he is no more than a bug. He doesn’t know how to gather the words to tell Wanderer that he has never done this before, that he really doesn’t know what he’s doing, so he remains silent. Wanderer’s smile grows sharper. “If you don’t know, I do.” Sethos gulps at the glint in his eye, but part of him is excited for whatever might come next.
***
Desert nights are always cold, but Sethos feels remarkably warm while curled up in bed with Wanderer, despite the other mans lack of body heat. His head is laying on Wanderers lap, the other man playing idly with his hair as he reads a book. For his part, Sethos is taking advantage of this to ogle him even more. Wanderer is even prettier this close, when he is dressed down and— dare he say it— relaxed. His brow is smooth, and his eyes speedily roam over the page as he reads. Sethos isn’t even sure what book it is, an odd find in their library, the title written in Inazuman that he cannot read. His left hand is brushing through Sethos’s hair, alternating from combing through the brown strands to rubbing more forcefully at his scalp. Despite his lean frame, Sethos finds it quite comfortable to lay on his thighs, quietly admiring the contrast between his hair and Wanderers pale skin. Wanderer is such a bulky name. He really should get his actual one. “What’s your name?” Wanderers fingers still in his hair. “…What?”
He puts the book aside, looking down at Sethos. His face is slightly scrunched up, though if it is in confusion or annoyance Sethos does not know. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Wanderer or Hat Guy in my head.” Wanderer chuckles a bit. “You think about me that much?” Sethos’s face warms a little. “No wait I didn’t mean it like that-” Wanderers lips curve into a smile. “Regardless. I don’t have a name other than that. Aside from what the traveler calls me. But you already decided not to use that, right?” Sethos nods, mind already whirring. Wanderer picks his book up off the mattress. “Feel free to come up with something. I probably won’t mind.” Sethos makes a small noise of confirmation and Wanderer goes back to reading, his hand resuming its motions in his hair.
Sethos’s eyes wander (ha) as he thinks, idly looking at the looping letters of Inazuman on the spine of the book. His eyes are drawn to one word in particular— the complexity of one character compared to the other— and he wracks his brain for any scraps of Inazuman he still remembers. “Shin-zo? What does that mean?” Wanderer pauses his motions again, glancing down. “It means heart.” His face is unreadable. Sethos’s face slowly breaks into a smile. “Heart, huh? I think it fits you. Shinzo. Shin for short.” He might be imagining it, but he thinks Wanderer’s face softens— even if by just a fraction. “Shinzo it is then.” Sethos grins happily, wrapping an arm around Shinzo’s waist in a half hug. Shinzo huffs in amusement, putting his book down on the bedside table. He maneuvers himself down in the bed, so he is no longer leaning against the wall but laying in bed with Sethos. He reaches out a hand to shut off the light, and Sethos curls into his body, cozy under the blankets.