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Tighnari’s shirt is off when Cyno steps inside of his hut, a bundle of mushrooms in the arm he’s pressed close to his chest to hold them in.
Big ears perk up at the sound of him coming in, and the forest ranger turns to look. “Oh, Cyno!” He tries to get up, and a groan escapes him - hand coming off his own skin, ointment still lingering on the pads of his fingertips from where he’d been applying it over his shoulder. “Argh, hold on. You’d think it’d stop hurting, years later-”
“Let me help,” Cyno interrupts, voice soft. Placing down the mushrooms on his partner’s work desk, he walks towards Tighnari, taking the medicine from his hands and dipping his own fingers inside the small bottle. He pulls a chair to sit with the ranger’s back facing him, and gently massages into the skin that’s bloomed over with lightning-bit scars. “Tell me if you feel any discomfort.”
“You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, jaan,” Tighnari sighs, but he visibly relaxes under Cyno’s deft touch. “Went scavenging all by yourself?”
Cyno hums, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of his shoulder. “Collei helped,” he says, noticing the way Tighnari’s ears come to rest over his head. “She was asking about that stew you made last weekend. It was nice.”
“I know it was,” Tighnari says, a sly tone coating his voice. Cyno huffs out a smile, putting the lid back on top of the medicine bottle after he’s done - doesn’t stop, though; his fingers work over Tighnari’s muscles, careful and calculated in the way he presses into his skin. “Did you like it?”
“Of course,” Cyno murmurs. “How can I dislike anything that you make?” Half-lidded eyes gazing lazily, lovingly into Tighnari’s when he turns his head, lips just as soft as he leans in.
“I miss you, by the way,” Tighnari mumbles into his lips. “You need to start taking longer leaves. Surely the Akademiya can handle itself without you for one month.” His body turns, arms winding around his partner’s neck as he gets up to make himself comfortable on Cyno’s lap instead.
“I’ll think about it,” the general says, half-teasing as he meets Tighnari halfway - kiss turning heated when he bites onto the ranger’s lower lip. A whimper leaves the fox’s mouth - one that Cyno immediately catches into his own. Hands travelling shamelessly, wrapping his clean one around Tighnari’s waist, he continues: “If I’m guaranteed something like this every day-”
“Hey, dad, did- Oh, Archons!”
They scramble immediately off of each other, Tighnari grabbing for the nearest clothes he can find to pull over his head before -
“Oh, Collei,” Cyno’s garbled voice comes. “I-I thought you were setting camp?”
“Yes, well.” Collei is bright red in the face when Tighnari turns to look at her. Internally groaning, he fixes his shirt and pulls up the sleeve on the arm he’s applied medicine on. “I couldn’t find the cooking pot we usually use, and thought dad might have it, b-but I didn’t know you two were-”
“Not your fault,” Cyno says, holding his head and shooting Tighnari an I’ve-got-it-under-control glance. Turns back to his daughter with a smile that seems perfectly natural. “Don’t worry about it, meri shehzadi. C’mon, let's find your pot.”
Tighnari can only sit there in agonizing silence as he watches them leave, Collei bent in embarrassment as Cyno leads her out. His gaze lingers for only a moment, before his eyes drop towards the stack of mushrooms on his desk.
Well, he thinks. Time to pick out the poisonous ones.
-
He walks in on the Mahamatra regaling their daughter with a story about some of the strange scholars tumbling about the Akademiya later that night, carrying ingredients for the same stew in his arms that he’d made before.
“Don’t give her any ideas,” he says, pressing a kiss to both of their cheeks before he sits down. “The Amurta batch this year already seems to be full of delinquents.”
“Surely you can't compare Collei to those rascals,” Cyno says, stoking the campfire as Tighnari carefully hangs the pot over it. “At least you've taught her morals and the like.”
“I've taught her that her father’s not the type to let even family go,” Tighnari replies, lips lifting in a half-edged smile. He throws some spices in, and pulls a chair near them to sit on.
“Oh, but that's a lie,” Cyno whispers to Collei, who just grins. “I'd bust you out of any trouble without a single thought, okay?”
“Of course,” Collei laughs. “Abba’s nicer than he lets on, isn't he?”
“I suppose so,” Tighnari says. “He's only this nice to you though, I think.”
“What? I’m not nice to you?” Cyno feigns hurt, their daughter laughing at the display as Tighnari only responds with a roll of eyes. “And here I thought I was infamous at the Akademiya for being only nice towards you two.”
“You still are,” Collei points out. Tighnari just shrugs and smiles - he’s taken up a ladle, stirring into the pot every so often as they talk. “Being infamous for it doesn’t really mean anything there.”
“I suppose so.” Cyno brings a leg up to his chest, chin coming to rest over his knee as he watches his partner stir. Collei has laid out some bowls next to him - the ones they’d made together during an impromptu pottery class back at the Akademiya the last time the three of them had been in Sumeru City all together. Times like that don’t come by often - not with Tighnari’s ranger work, Collei’s classes, and Cyno’s expeditions. He wonders for a second, then.
Wonders when it would be a good time to tell them - that he’s resigning. That he’s passing his command over, with nothing but the mantle on his head and the small, velvet box tucked into the pocket of his shorts right now. Maybe it’s now. Maybe it’s after they’ve had dinner, and Collei’s sleeping soundly, and Tighnari’s wrapped in his arms back in bed. Maybe it’s tomorrow, maybe at lunch with friends days later. Shared over drinks, smiles that’ll be etched into his psyche for as long as he lives.
Or maybe it’s never. Maybe it’ll never go through. Maybe he’ll go back to work next weekend, with paperwork taller than him waiting on his desk. Maybe his skin will continue to scar, and maybe-
“-no. Cyno?”
He blinks. There’s a soft hand squeezing his shoulder.
“Dil, is there anything wrong?” Tighnari’s looking at him with eyebrows flitted together, “You zoned out in the middle of talking.”
“I did?” Cyno looks down - he’s holding a half-finished bowl of food. “Ah.”
“Does this,” Tighnari murmurs, his hand slipping down towards his chest, pressing the pads of his fingers gently against the skin, “still make you uncomfortable?”
He breathes in. There’s a smaller hand on his back, rubbing in soothing motions. They’re not new to Cyno’s anxiety - having been there shortly after he’d taken in the second Ba Fragment and struggled to inhabit it. Had been there when he’d stayed up nights with his eyes blown out, electro energy seeping through his fingertips in waves, Hermanubis clouding his mind. So this is nothing new, and yet it still makes him bite his lip, harsh enough to feel metal coil on his tongue. And it’s only then that his senses seem to clear.
“No,” he says. “I’m okay.” He places his own hand over Tighnari’s and uses the other to grab Collei by the shoulder from behind him and bring her close. “Just thinking of excuses for that one-month long leave.”
They’re in bed when Tighnari brings it up.
Lips pressed to his collar, the only sounds around them belonging to either the rustle of their clothes or the chirping of the insects outside of his hut - Cyno doesn’t know what comes over him that makes it so that he doesn’t want to fight back for control when Tighnari shoves him off with that usual defiant attitude that normally serves to rile the both of them up - and the ranger is nothing if not perceptive.
“Cyno,” he says, matter-of-factly. “There’s something on your mind.”
“Yeah,” Cyno replies. “There is.”
“And?” He sits back, looking at his partner with curiosity in his eyes. “You’re not going to tell me?”
“I want to,” Cyno whispers.
“Meri jaan,” Tighnari moves forward, cradling his face and pressing his forehead to his own. “I promise to not eat you alive if it’s bad, is that okay?”
“It’s not,” Cyno tries to say, but a small laugh escapes him at Tighnari’s worry. “I…apologize. I feel as though you’d be happier if I told you, but I just don’t know how to come to terms with it myself.”
“Did you get in some sort of trouble for me?”
“I guess.” Cyno leans in, so that their noses touch. “I… decided to resign from my position as General a couple days ago.”
A short silence envelopes the air as Tighnari takes it in. The wind is cool, and Cyno's hair is a mess, and his strands mixing into his partner’s black-green ones look so nice. And the thought should make him warm, make him smile - but he stays quiet, and feels the sudden heaviness in his pocket instead for a minute.
“So…,” Tighnari whispers now, too. “Permanent vacation, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t,” he breathes, “regret it?”
“Why should I?” Cyno says, softly. “I have you two to help me navigate through it, don’t I?”
There’s a well that brews in Tighnari’s eyes - one that Cyno rubs off with his fingers before it can fall. “It’s too soon for that, you know?”
“Is it?” Tighnari laughs, now, a little choked-up, and it’s only here that Cyno can’t help his own smile.
“Yes,” he murmurs. “I have all the money I need to live a good life. I have all the love I can fathom in the world right on my fingertips.” He pauses, pressing the faintest of kisses to his partner’s cheek. “And it only lies within my own power to make it last for as long as I’m allowed to live. So-”
When he stops speaking, he can notice that Tighnari - on some level - already knows about his intention. Knows it the moment his hand dips into the shorts he’s still wearing from today, digging out the velvet box that had been weighing on him for the weeks past.
“Cyno, you’re awful at this,” Kaveh’d groaned. He’d shoved him off towards Haitham, forcing him to look at the gold band adorning his ring finger. “You should know Tighnari’s more into subtlety, like this hothead.”
It’d had made him think, for a second, whether it’d been a good idea to ask Kaveh of all people to help him with this. But then the architect had placed in his hands -
He opens the box, as gently as possible. The emerald stone in the centre of the band almost glows against the otherwise dark of the night, and seems to shine only further when he takes Tighnari’s hand to slip on his finger.
“I hope,” Cyno says, looking into his eyes as he runs his thumb over the stone. “You’ll let do me the honor of asking for your hand for the rest of my life.”
Tighnari can only gaze, infectious smile and ears standing on end - it’s everything Cyno thinks that’s more than he deserves. The idea of doing this so intimately, right here in their bed, with the moon shining above their heads and their daughter sleeping just a couple steps away - it’s more grandiose than anything he can imagine for them then and now.
“Yes,” Tighnari says, more resolute than Cyno could have ever imagined him to be. More resolute than he thinks he may be himself. “If you’ll do me the honor of giving your hand to mine, too.”
“Anything-” Cyno pauses, as if to correct himself as he buries his head into Tighnari’s shoulder, “Everything for you.”
-
It's a week later when Cyno drops by the Akademiya again.
A couple of the Matras congratulate him as they pass him by, though he can't help but hear a few murmuring about the development. When he gets to his office, Lesser Lord Kusanali is sitting in his chair, small against the large desk she's propped up her elbows on.
She gives him the brightest of smiles as he sees her, giggling when his eyes widen and he stiffens up.
“Lord Kusanali,” Cyno says, genuinely surprised. “Is there any way I can be of service to you?”
“No, General,” Nahida grins, bringing a hand up to her mouth almost shyly. “Ah, I mean Cyno - if that's okay?”
The way she says his name frazzles him just a little. It's one thing to have the Lord Archon visit him in his office, and completely another to hear her call him by his given name so normally.
“I'll admit, I didn't realize there would come a time for me to wish you well like this,” she continues, hopping off of his chair to walk towards him; Cyno kneels down, head bowed as she approaches. “Please raise your head. Do not act as if you owe anything to me that I myself do not owe you.”
Cyno does. He can't fathom the thought of her here, up until she raises her hands above his head and pats it. And he can feel it - the Dendro energy curling around his body, soothing his nerves and culling the raging god within him.
A crown of leaves and flowers adorns him.
“I'll miss the protectiveness that your simple presence often lent here, General,” Nahida says, voice gentle. There's a tone of melancholy there that eats at him.
So he reaches his hand out, cringing just a little as course skin makes contact with her shoulder. “Archon,” he says.
Her eyes twinkle. “Call me Nahida.”
“I can't,” he says. “I cannot, but Gandharva Ville will always welcome you, even if the Akademiya falls short to it. I will always protect you, in any way. Please remember that.”
I know, her eyes seem to say. It stews in silence for a second, and then: “The other Matras are quite disbelieving, you know. The very idea that such an intimidating and reliable General such as you is leaving his post so early in life.”
“They may think whatever they like,” Cyno grumbles.
“I think it's admirable,” Nahida giggles. “Romantic, even.”
She floats around him so easily. A swing manifesting itself out of Dendro that seems to connect itself to nowhere in particular. Her small body swinging on it as she talks. Cyno sees in her a sort of whimsy he could've never guessed she'd inhabited years ago. It's good to see her like this, he thinks. It's good that she's freer.
“Can I expect a wedding invitation?” she asks, suddenly.
Cyno can't help the smile that forms on his own face. “VIP seating and the best view for the dancefloor.”
She blooms at his words. “Perfect.”
-
It takes a month before they're married - the world around them slips into a comfortable silence the day Cyno moves the last of his belongings into Tighnari’s - no, their - hut, the day he can flop into bed and have his husband kiss his ears and call him chaand and tuck him to sleep. It's a good day. It's a day that he'll never experience again.
And in a way, even that is a comfortable thought. In a way, it becomes something he can think back to every so often.
He can feel Collei slip a thin blanket over him, giggling with his partner - no, husband - about one thing or the other before his eyes snap shut. She's still wearing the lehenga he’d asked Kaveh to commission for her. Her hair is pulled back into the most beautiful of styles. She looks beautiful, and kind, and Cyno is so utterly glad, all of a sudden, that she's his daughter.
So utterly glad that he has this chance. To grow older with his family. And maybe it's because of all these thoughts that his bones feel more weary than they've ever been.
He has the best sleep he's had in years, that day.
-
Kaveh and Haitham check in regularly - Tighnari just thinks it's because they're curious about Cyno taking the reins to cook more often.
“I didn't exactly have the time to do this with a job like that,” he points out one day, when the two of them are over at their place and Kaveh’s looking over his shoulder so curiously as he chops up vegetables. “Surely this can't be so unbelievable.”
“It'd be more unbelievable if you wouldn't know how to cook,” Al-Haitham retorts, arms crossed over his chest even when he sits. “Kaveh, you're staring at him like a man does a zoo animal.”
“Well, I'm sorry that this is so interesting,” Kaveh spits at him. “You never cook for me like this!”
“I don't want to take away something that clearly gives you joy to do,” comes the tart response - and Cyno doesn't miss the way Haitham laces his tone into something a little sweeter, rolling his eyes at it as soon as he hears his architect friend guffaw over his shoulder.
Tighnari shoots him a lazy smile from across the room when he turns. Something something it'll always be like this.
And maybe he can live with that.
-
Cyno's laying under the stars right outside of their hut when he feels Tighnari shuffle beside him, sitting down with his legs crossed and tail swishing and ears at full stretch.
“So,” he says. “Regret it yet?”
Cyno looks at him. “Should I?”
“I don't know,” Tighnari says, softly. “You're still spending an absurd amount of money on TCG cards from what I can tell, which makes me wonder if I regret it.”
Cyno huffs in a laugh. “Sorry,” he teases. “That just comes with being filthy rich in retirement.”
“Mhm.” His husband inches close enough for him to wrap an arm around his waist - Cyno sitting up to pull him closer. “But still, jaan.”
“Still what, dil?” Cyno sighs into his neck, hands egregious in their travelling of his body. “How could I ever regret this? I feel as though the world is in the palm of my hand when I'm around you.”
Tighnari holds in his own laugh. He turns so that they're facing each other, and it's so easy to just sit there and lock lips under the starry sky that it feels a little overwhelming. It's so…easy, for Cyno to be here, for his hands to touch him, for his breath to be in Tighnari’s mouth to catch. It’s almost as though it's ephemeral - this sort of thing - until they wake up next to each other day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.
It's comfortable. It's good.
Cyno hopes it lasts forever. In the back of his mind, he knows it will.
And so it's comfortable even then: placing his old headpiece on top of their shared closet, never to be worn again. Cyno gives it one last look, closes the door behind him, and the world simply chooses to descend into normality.