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Sethos had always hated waking up. He’s often disheveled, vulnerable. Someone could attack him and he would be put in a tough spot. And worst, his hair gets all tangled up, giving him a hard time to tidy it up every day.
Except today.
Sethos wakes up next to an unassuming wanderer.
His problems remain. He is even more disheveled now, if anything, due to their… certain activities last night. He sits in the cramped bed that is clearly only for one person. An arm lazily snakes up to his thighs, restricting him from moving any further, so he doesn’t.
This angle is just enough to look at his lover anyway.
He rarely gets this side of him as the wanderer usually gets up earlier, running off to his classes, leaving cold coffee and bread behind.
Despite not needing sleep, he sure looks peaceful while sleeping. No one would have ever guessed that the sharp-tongued eccentric Vahumana student sleeps like this. His deep breaths are accompanied by the glowing marks in his body.
His upper torso exposed and the sunlight is trying to get a glimpse of it as well. The marks he left last night are still there, reddish and some might turn into bruises.
Perhaps he should be softer next time, Sethos thinks to himself. But that would just piss the student off, he turns down his own idea.
He’s just like he is when awake, displaying himself without a care in the world, only this time, he looks much softer. And just like when he is awake, his walls are undeniably high that Sethos continues to climb until now. He knows better than to barge in and break a hole into it.
Kunikuzishi has his own reasons to keep his walls sturdy, he understands that. It probably took him years to build it, carefully placing bricks and layers and layers of it.
Surely, for someone who was also promised of Godhood but stripped off of it, Sethos understands that. A wish to shut everybody out, to never let anyone see your vulnerabilities—to get rid of it entirely because a vulnerable God is nothing but a fraud.
No one would worship a God that couldn’t protect its subjects. No one would love a fragile, imperfect God because that is too human. If humans are capable of accepting their imperfections, then there is no need for faith, there is no need for Gods.
But that fate had gone past them now, hadn’t it? Human is what they currently are.
Kunikuzushi’s core softly creates a mechanical whirring sound that Sethos can easily hear due to the lack of noise in their room. He is very much aware that he is not a ‘human’ in the same way that Sethos is with flesh, blood, and a thumping heart.
What he has are puppet joints, wires that make him function, and an empty husk for a heart he swears he doesn’t have. The brunette is aware of it; the puppet never hid his nature anyway. But he is human nonetheless.
Flesh, blood, a heart—none of these things determines a human being. That’s too superficial. Sethos doesn’t need to be a philosopher at the Akademiya to know and define what being a human is.
He lets his hand comb through the sleeping man’s hair. He doesn’t know if he’s still sleeping and if he wasn’t, surely he would shoot a deathly glare at Sethos if he didn’t like his hair being combed.
Sethos wonders then, how many people had Kuni loved?
Kunikuzushi, with all his walls, never talked about his past. Sethos tried to ask about it a few times but all attempts were in vain. Kuni would either stop the conversation immediately or divert it to something else, firing the questions back at him. Sethos would see his partner’s discomfort and despite his guts rearranging themselves in his stomach, he wouldn’t push any further.
It started when he went to dinner with Cyno and Tighnari. A drunk Kaveh, who shares their table, teases Alhaitham regarding his junior’s relationship during the time they had their fallout—clamoring about how the scribe, with his status and knowledge, must have had people confessing here and there (but also contradicting himself, saying it must be impossible since he has an insufferable personality) only to be hushed by Alhaitham’s sincere declaration that he had no intention of entertaining anyone back then.
It is no use to think about it at all but Sethos couldn’t help but wonder sometimes, especially considering that he knows little to nothing about the wanderer’s past, even more so his previous relationships. How many people claimed the spot next to him before Sethos? With his demeanor, he had probably lived longer than Sethos could imagine.
He is entitled to feelings such as this, is he not? He can’t help himself as his mind spirals and the questions keep coming in.
It starts with a simple inquiry, a question that lingers always at the back of his mind, stuck on his throat, an itch on the tip of his fingers: did Kunikuzushi like them in the morning?
In mornings like this, had Kunikuzushi like anyone, even when he has a foul temper every morning? Was there any point in time when he enjoyed waking up and drawing the curtains without any complaints about how bright it was? Was any of his lovers part of the reason why he developed such disdain for the rising sun? Did he enjoy sweets with others that Sethos couldn’t even make him take a single bite?
Sethos understands, more than anyone, that everyone is a product of their combined history, not just influenced by a single person, and Kunikuzushi is his own person. Yet, his mind continues to ask whether he could have been soft and completely unguarded with anyone.
He is grateful for Kuni as he is now but sometimes, really, he wonders if communication would have been easier between them if he could open up at least a little more. Would Sethos be able to understand him and his reasons better if he had known Kuni’s past?
Has Kuni let anyone know more about himself? How much of him were they allowed to see? Was it easy to confide in them? How heavy is it to ask Sethos for anything? He couldn’t help but envy every person who had come before him who had seen more of his now-lover.
He moves himself once more, careful with the space they share in the tiny bed, lowering his position to lie beside a sleeping Kuni, connecting their foreheads together and caressing his porcelain face.
What were the names they called him? Was it different with every person?
He remembers how hard it had been to force a word out of his mouth just to get an answer about his name. The whole institution had settled on calling him Hat Guy but Sethos decided to pry further, until Kuni revealed that he used to go by the name Kunikuzushi.
His hand travelled to the akademiyan’s waist, pulling him closer, seeking his warmth. He rests his mouth on Kuni’s shoulder, leaving a soft trail of kisses on the bruises and bites he made last night as if it was enough of an apology.
Does Kuni feel their touch every time he touches him? How similar was Sethos to any of them? How different is he? How does he know that it is Sethos fondling him and not a ghost of his past?
Did he love them despite knowing that he would be left all alone when death came for them? Had he loved someone to the end of their life? Does any of them resemble Sethos? Is Kuni still searching for a feeling he felt centuries ago? How does Sethos compare to the person he loved years ago?
Did they see Kunikuzushi as human? Have they successfully made him feel like he was one?
And what of Sethos? Would he leave a mark enough to be remembered for eons, a mark that he was loved by an immortal?
Sethos settles his head on top of Wanderer’s chest, eyes closed, where he can hear his core running, helping to drown all of his uncertainties.
He couldn’t possibly let himself continue like this. There’s no point in trying to compete with them (but Archons, wouldn’t it hurt less if he was given just a glimpse of reassurance). Perhaps Tighnari was right, there are many questions that may float during the early stages of a relationship and early is where they are right now.
Maybe he needs to give Kunikuzushi his time to figure things out, to let him come when his past is no longer a strain that keeps him from telling Sethos anything.
“Little bee…?” A hoarse voice came above his head, evident that its owner just woke up.
Despite Sethos’s wish to see his lover right now, he fights his natural instinct to look at the voice’s owner. He is too ashamed to face him right now, he looks pathetic. Ironic since they are literally skin-to-skin.
Sethos can feel his fingers travelling lazily on his back, tracing his history before finding its way to the brunette’s chin, tapping it lightly, pushing it upwards. He cannot run away from this one so he decides to open his eyes, meeting a pair of sleepy indigos.
“Do… Do you want to get ready?” He immediately asks, hoping that it would at least divert the wanderer’s attention to the question rather than the pathetic look in his eyes.
A pause for a second turns into minutes and he can feel he is being scrutinized by the very same indigo eyes he loves so much. It must’ve looked like an intense staring contest from an outsider’s perspective—or probably a moment where the predator caught its prey lurking in its own domain.
Sethos can feel his whole body freezing while his mind is already accepting whatever fate this God has in store for him. At best, he would be kicked out but might still be allowed to see him. On the opposite side of the spectrum, Kuni might just dump him for good.
What felt like an eternity had passed and Kunikuzushi decided to once again move his hand, this time resting it on Sethos’s cheeks—it’s warm. His other hand is playing with Sethos’s hair. Moving downwards to level with the green eyes, catching every color in it, hypnotizing it even as Sethos renders motionless.
“There are no classes at the Akademiya today,” he simply states. Moving closer to Sethos’s face and snuggling against it.
Shock is possibly an understatement to the brunette’s reaction. Though, he wishes their lips should’ve met but seeing the wanderer’s, once again, closed eyes, he lets him be.
As if all the clouds of his uncertainties had been chased away, Sethos decides that this is enough. He needs to work on himself, sure, but for now, this is enough. Kunikuzushi likes him in the morning.