Archive of Our Own

Tighnari's least favorite thing about his part-time job isn't the obnoxious and rowdy drunks, the stench of alcohol and sweat in the air, or even the flashing lights that give him a genuine headache.

It's the noise.

Ice cubes clink as he pours ingredients into the cocktail shaker. Unfamiliar pop songs blast out from the speakers, clashing with the commentary from a sports game playing on the TV. Clusters of people around the bar buzz with lively chatter.

All in all, it's his personal hell—also known as Saturday night at Lambad's Tavern.

So when his boss told him about his plans to attract more customers, Tighnari thought, Really? Wasn't it loud enough in here already?

"I hope that these open mic nights will bring in a larger variety of clientele," Lambad said. "We're not a bar, you know. We're a tavern." Tighnari would bet all his tips for the night that most university students would not know or appreciate the difference, as long as alcohol was sold. But Lambad's a kind employer and grad school is expensive, so Tighnari nodded along and tried not to let his utter dismay show on his face.

That was a couple of weeks ago. Tonight, the dreaded inaugural open mic night is finally here, and Tighnari is really hoping it won't end like the first and last time he went to a live music concert. (His ears were ringing for three days straight.) The turnout is pretty good, above average for a Saturday night, and he mentally prepares himself to dial his charm up to an 11 so he can rake in some tips. Also, he hopes that the performances are decent. The Akademiya is home to many accomplished students, so perhaps he'll witness some actually impressive talent tonight.

He fulfills a few more orders behind the bar while some of his coworkers set up the audio equipment on the small stage in the center of the tavern, making polite small talk with the regulars about how excited he is for this open mic night, Yippee. No one seems to catch on to his true feelings. Perhaps Tighnari should abandon his pursuit of a PhD and take up acting instead.

"Testing, testing," comes Lambad's booming voice, followed by two clunky taps on the microphone that make Tighnari flinch. "Welcome, my friends, and thank you for being patient with our technical difficulties! I'm so happy to see so many faces in the audience tonight..."

Lambad loves telling stories. Tighnari's attention is normally quick to drift from this, but the speakers and TV have been turned down for the audience to hear the microphone more clearly, and there's a temporary lull in customers ordering drinks, so he feels more charitable and listens in for once.

"...So I hope you enjoy tonight's performances, and come back next Saturday for more! And be sure to scan the QR code by the bar if you'd like to sign up to perform next week!"

Lambad passes the microphone to the first performer, a pretty blond man who Tighnari remembers ordering more than one drink earlier in the night, even though it's barely 9 p.m yet. He also distinctly remembers the man asking if they currently have any discounts at Lambad's. (They don't).

"Hi, I'm Kaveh," the man says. He sways a little bit on his feet. Is he really already drunk? Unsteadily, he says, "I wrote a diss track about my roommate, who is the absolute worst. Fuck you, Al-Haitham!"

Some people in the crowd cheer, while others clearly have no idea how to react. That doesn't stop Kaveh, who proceeds to recite some of the most eloquent, beautiful spoken word poetry Tighnari has ever heard. It's a contemplation of human nature and the juxtaposition between art and science, language and reality, and altruism and egoism.

Tighnari is a little speechless. He's pretty sure that some of the audience members have tears in their eyes.

Kaveh finishes all of that—completely memorized, too—and pauses for a moment, then gives a clumsy bow. "Um, thanks for listening, I guess. And fuck you again, Al-Haitham!"

The crowd applauds as Kaveh leaves the stage. Taking his place is a shorter man with dark skin and white hair. The set of his eyebrows is firm, giving him a distinctly stern air. He does not look like he wants to be there at all.

He clears his throat and says, rather emotionlessly, "I'm Cyno. I prepared a stand-up comedy routine."

Cyno has a beautiful voice—deep and calm, with a hint of raspiness. Tighnari would pay for this man to narrate audiobooks, or whisper sweet nothings directly into his ears. He shifts forward to get a better view, suddenly intrigued by this intimidating man.

From his bag, Cyno pulls out a book. Even from the bar, Tighnari can make out its title in large, blocky letters: 1001 Cool Jokes.

What?

Cyno opens the book. "Why did the man fall down the well?" he asks. "Because he couldn't see that well."

For perhaps the first time in Tighnari's entire history of working at Lambad's, everybody in the room is completely silent.

Tighnari would appreciate the newfound quiet if he wasn't too busy being stunned himself.

Eventually, someone laughs politely, and a few more people join in. Cyno looks marginally more pleased, although the changes in his facial expression are minuscule, making it hard to tell. He flips to a different page and reads aloud, "How do celebrities stay cool? They have many fans."

Maybe this is some kind of advanced meta-commentary on humor that I don't understand, Tighnari thinks desperately, but judging by the noticeably more strained laughter from the audience, he is not alone.

It doesn't deter Cyno. "Someone told me their original idea for a book. It was truly a novel concept."

On, and on, and on it goes, until Cyno's dry delivery is greeted by nothing but silence. Tighnari has never been more bewildered in his life. Complex biology research papers are more intuitive to him than whatever this is, and he's cried over many of those.

After way too many awful jokes—Tighnari lost count—Cyno looks up from the book and observes the audience. "I sense that these jokes are not very funny," he says solemnly.

Maybe Tighnari has fully lost it, but something about Cyno's deadpan delivery and the absurdity of the situation finally does it for him. He can't help it; he snorts. Unfortunately, in the silence of the crowd, it must be quite audible, for Cyno's eyes instantly dart over to his position behind the bar.

For a moment, Tighnari holds the eye contact. Then, Cyno's smile widens a fraction more, and he turns back to the audience.

"That is all. Thank you for your time."

The crowd applauds, with some reluctance. Tighnari's hands do not move. He does not get paid enough for this.

Thankfully, the performances that follow are relatively normal. Cleansing everyone's palate and restoring Tighnari's faith in humanity is a boy in a green hat and dark braids, who looks approximately 12 years old, but sings and plays the guitar with such emotional depth that there is no way he is actually 12. He's followed by a tall, muscular man with striped white hair and horns who also does a stand-up routine, but is actually quite personable and funny, though Tighnari isn't entirely sure whether the crowd is laughing with or at him.

In the middle of another singer's act, Tighnari sees a familiar figure approach the bar—Cyno, the unfunny stand-up comedian. He comes to a stop right in front of Tighnari.

Oh, Archons, what does he want? "What can I get you?" Tighnari asks.

"You laughed at my joke earlier," Cyno says. Up close, his white hair looks even fluffier to the touch, and his features are rather defined in the low lighting. Most striking are his eyes, a sunset orange hue now trained intently on Tighnari.

He looks a little bit less intimidating now, although that might be because of what Tighnari has just witnessed.

"I'm not sure it was the joke I laughed at," Tighnari says, as politely as he possibly can.

But just like up on the stage, Cyno doesn't appear fazed in the slightest. "All the same, thank you," he says, earnest.

He doesn't move to leave, but he also doesn't look at the menu right in front of him. He just stands there.

This is awkward.

Tighnari clears his throat. "Have you... been doing stand-up comedy for a while?"

"Oh, no. That was my first time."

"That explains a lot," Tighnari says without thinking.

Cyno tilts his head to the side. "What does it explain?"

Tighnari never really bothers to mince his words, but he's not sure how to tell Cyno to his face that his stand-up comedy set was the most awkward thing he's ever witnessed. "Your jokes," he says, intending to leave it at that.

Cyno nods in understanding. "The audience didn't laugh, right? This is useful to know. I'm doing this as a test to see what jokes people will find funny."

Tighnari's brain is processing this entire conversation very slowly. "Well, I don't think they got the jokes you told today."

"That's true. I'm not sure they understood the puns." His eyes widen. "Maybe that's what I need to work on. Thank you..." He trails off and looks down, clearly searching for a name tag.

"Tighnari."

"Tighnari," Cyno repeats in his lovely voice, and if Tighnari hadn't just listened to that voice delivering the worst punchlines of all time, he might even find it unfairly attractive. "I'm Cyno."

"I know," Tighnari says. "You introduced yourself onstage."

"Oh, right." Cyno nods, once again unfazed. "Well, Tighnari, you've given me a lot to think about. I promise to come back next week with a new and improved routine."

That almost gets a laugh out of Tighnari. "Oh? Well, I wish you good luck."

(Social norms of politeness would probably dictate that he add something like, "I look forward to it," but Tighnari is very much not looking forward to it.)

A week later, the crowd is a bit smaller, but Tighnari notices some returning faces from the first open mic. Cyno's head of white hair is easily identifiable, and just as Tighnari spots him, Cyno turns around and makes eye contact with Tighnari. 

Cyno gives a little wave. Tighnari thinks about pretending not to have seen it, but ends up waving back, though he's dreading the moment Cyno takes the stage. Still, he seems like a logical guy, if not a little oblivious. Maybe whatever magical thing Tighnari said stuck with him, and now he finally understands how to do stand-up comedy.

For everyone else's sake, Tighnari truly hopes so.

It seems he's not the only one who remembers Cyno from the previous week, because later that night, when Cyno takes the stage, Tighnari definitely hears a few groans. Rude, but understandable.

"I'm Cyno," Cyno says. "I've prepared a few jokes for you all today."

This time, he pulls out a piece of paper. Unfortunately, he goes on to say in a now-familiar monotone, "Why doesn't the sun need to go to college? Because it already has millions of degrees."

Once again, Cyno is met with silence. However, he looks around the tavern, cocks his head, and says, "You see, students earn degrees from college. However, a degree is also a measurement of temperature. The core of the sun is millions of degrees. Hence, when I say the sun has millions of degrees, I'm actually referring to its internal temperature, not its education level."

Tighnari's jaw drops. When he said the audience didn't understand Cyno's jokes, this was not what he was suggesting.

"Archons. Pour me another shot," says a customer near Tighnari. "I need it to get through this."

Tighnari can only oblige.

The rest of the set continues in the same vein. Cyno reads a joke, waits a few seconds in silence, and then proceeds to explain the punchline. If the jokes weren't funny before, they're even less tolerable now. More than one person leaves their seat by the stage and heads over to the bar for respite. Tighnari pours many shots. Part of him thinks this is pretty good for business. The other part of him wants to go home.

Cyno finally, finally, wraps up his set, and Tighnari watches as Cyno heads directly for his place at the bar counter again. Multiple people get out of his way once they notice his approach. Tighnari cannot find it in his heart to blame them.

Instead of ordering a drink, Cyno asks, "What did you think?"

Tighnari tries to find the words. He eventually settles upon, "I don't think your explanations made the jokes any funnier."

"Based on the audience's reactions, you may be right. What do you suggest I do, then?"

"Can I ask why you're doing this?" Tighnari blurts out. "Why stand-up comedy?" When you're obviously so terrible at it, he doesn't say.

Cyno looks away momentarily. When he turns his head back towards Tighnari, he can't quite meet Tighnari's eyes, and Tighnari realizes he must be embarrassed. "My reasons are a bit foolish."

"Well, now I want to hear them."

Cyno sighs. "Alright. I'm a teaching assistant for some intro classes, but I've heard that many students are scared to ask me for help because I'm... How did they put it?" He pauses. "Stern and intimidating."

Tighnari isn't quite sure how to respond.

"But I really want to help them, and I don't want them to be scared of me," Cyno says. "So I did some research on how to become more approachable. Many resources say that humor is the best way to make people feel at ease, so I signed up for the open mic night to test some jokes and see whether they might help. Unfortunately, as you can see, I don't think I've figured it out yet."

"You have very noble intentions," Tighnari says, somewhat amused by the thought of Cyno's serious resting expression scaring off timid students. And then, for some reason even he cannot explain, he keeps talking. "I'm not an expert in humor or anything, but in my personal experience... Reading off a list of jokes you prepared isn't the most effective way to win people over. You need to react to your environment and the circumstances, you know? It should be relevant and timely; it should feel organic. That's how you surprise people and make them laugh."

"Relevant, timely, organic," Cyno repeats, cocking his head to the side. It's a rather endearing gesture, as if he is thinking very carefully. "Okay. I'll try that."

Then, he smiles—the same smile that appeared when he heard Tighnari's laugh from onstage during the previous week. A small, but nonetheless pleased, smile. "Thank you, Tighnari."

For some inexplicable reason, Tighnari suddenly finds himself a little flustered. "Just trying to help," he says, resisting the urge to clear his throat or readjust his shirt collar.

Then, another patron beckons for Tighnari's attention. He waves goodbye to Cyno, rather apologetically, then turns to the new customer, but watches out of the corner of his eye as Cyno leaves the tavern.

He doesn't know how he became this stranger's comedy coach, but oh, well. Tighnari always did think of himself as pretty funny.

Tighnari can't help but look around to see if he can spot Cyno. Perhaps the third time's the charm, and he has miraculously become funnier over the past week? He feels like he has a personal stake in it now. Call it scientific curiosity—like observing a new plant specimen in the lab and figuring out the optimal conditions under which it flourishes.

So when Cyno is nowhere to be seen, he can't help but feel disappointed. Cyno must be busy. Actually, is he busy?

Tighnari doesn't actually know anything about Cyno, other than the brief mention of his position as a teaching assistant. Oh, right, this is important to remember: he barely knows Cyno. What is there to be disappointed about?

A familiar voice says from beside him, "Come here often?"

Tighnari nearly jumps into the air, but he calms down quickly, letting his ears resume their usual unbothered position and turning to see Cyno looking a little too pleased with himself. "Sorry," he says. "Didn't mean to give you an open mic fright." Tighnari tries to look as unimpressed as possible. "Because night rhymes with–"

"I understood it, thank you," Tighnari says.

"Oh." Cyno raises an eyebrow, looking puzzled. "Was that not relevant or timely enough?"

He's completely serious. He really must be trying his best. Tighnari sighs and wonders how he got roped into this journey. "It was an improvement to reading jokes from a paper onstage," he says.

"But you were clearly not impressed," Cyno says. "I'll have to keep trying."

Tighnari dreads the prospect of Cyno repeatedly telling him bad jokes, but some quieter portion of his mind can't help but be a little thrilled that Cyno seems to value his opinion so much. Rather than voicing any of this, he asks, "Are you still doing the open mic tonight?"

"No. I realized it wasn't very helpful in telling me what people would find funny. I thought a lot about what you said last week, and I agree that whether or not a joke is funny depends heavily on the situational context. Based on that, I've decided to revise my strategy."

"Your strategy?" Tighnari repeats, somewhat amused. "What's your new one?"

"Instead of telling jokes to unfamiliar crowds, I should study a wide range of jokes and commit them all to memory so I can pull out a relevant and timely one for each situation I encounter," Cyno says, still completely serious. "I am in the process of developing a categorization system for the jokes I learn. Right now, I am thinking about organizing them by appropriate social situation or subject matter."

"...Alright." Tighnari finds himself smiling. "I'm surprised you're here, then. You don't seem like the type to drink."

"Hi, Surprised You're Here Then," Cyno says. "I'm Cyno."

Tighnari raises an eyebrow. "That one wasn't funny."

"Really?" Cyno's cheeks puff up into a pout—it's surprisingly adorable. "I thought that was a common joke format."

"It's a bit overdone," Tighnari says, apologetic.

Cyno sighs. "I see. Well, I'm here because I enjoyed listening to some of the other people, so I wanted to catch their performances again. And you're here too, aren't you?"

Tighnari blinks. "Yes, but I work here."

"Oh, I meant—" Cyno cuts himself off and shakes his head. "Never mind."

At that moment, a different customer yells to get Tighnari's attention. Tighnari flinches at the loud noise, then gives Cyno an apologetic look. "Sorry, I've got to help them," he says. "It was lovely chatting with you again, Cyno."

He expects that to be the end of this weekly encounter. But after he finishes serving the very demanding patron, he turns back around only to find that Cyno is still there, leaning against the bar countertop.

"You don't like loud noises," Cyno comments. Not a question, but an observation.

Tighnari feels his ears twitch in surprise, but he chuckles. "Very astute."

"Why do you work here, then?" Cyno asks. "The atmosphere is nice, but it's also very... lively."

"It's rough on my ears," Tighnari agrees. "But grad school is expensive, and this is one of the few jobs that works with my class and lab schedule, so I've been picking up shifts here for a few months now."

"You're a grad student at the Akademiya? What are you studying?"

"Biology," Tighnari says. "I have to work on my PhD research during most daytime hours. Hence, part-time bartending."

"I'm studying at the law school," Cyno says. Tighnari can certainly imagine him sitting in some kind of trial, cutting an imposing figure.

"Ah," Tighnari says. He did assume Cyno was a student, given that they're in a college town.

"Funny how we've never run into each other on campus," Cyno says. "Our department buildings aren't too far apart."

Tighnari shrugs. "Well, our schedules are probably pretty different," he says. "I spend most of my free time in the labs, anyway."

"What do you like to do for fun?"

"I like nature, so things like hikes, exploring the nearby wilderness..." Truthfully, it's been a long time since he did any of those things for fun, but if Tighnari thinks about that for too long, he'll be even sadder about his life choices. "What about you?"

"Genius Invokation TCG," Cyno answers immediately.

Tighnari blinks. He was not expecting that. "The card game?" Cyno looks a little embarrassed again, like when he shared the motivation behind his quest to become funny, and Tighnari realizes his mistake. "That's really cool," he says quickly.

"Do you play?" Cyno asks, excitement clearly bleeding into his usually calm voice.

"I played it with friends a few years ago, but not really, no," Tighnari admits. He almost feels bad for getting Cyno's hopes up, so he adds, "I've seen some regulars playing here before, though. Right at those tables over there. I guess they're not here tonight."

"Oh!" Cyno looks pleased. "That's exciting."

Someone clears their throat pointedly behind Cyno, and Tighnari feels a twinge of disappointment. For a few short moments, he'd forgotten that he was at work.

"I should let you get back to your job," Cyno says.

"Probably," Tighnari agrees, then smiles. "Have a good night, Cyno."

"You too, Tighnari."

He has just turned to leave when Tighnari says, "Wait."

Cyno pauses.

Will I see you next week? Tighnari suddenly feels the urge to ask. Wait, where the hell is that coming from?

"Good luck with the students," he manages to say instead, hoping it sounds more natural out loud than it feels leaving his mouth. What is wrong with him? "Maybe if you talk to them about Genius Invokation TCG, they'll be less intimidated."

Cyno's eyes light up. "You've just planted a great idea in my brain," he says. "No wonder you study biology."

Tighnari feels his face do something weird.

"Very organic, too."

"Goodbye, Cyno," Tighnari says, but something in him recognizes that the jokes are already leagues better than before. More relevant, at least. That's a good first step.

The following week, Cyno appears again. "Hey!" Tighnari says, finding himself smiling already.

The bags under Cyno's eyes are darker than usual. "Hi. Can I get a drink?"

Tighnari frowns. "Of course." Up until this point, he honestly thought Cyno didn't drink. "Everything alright?"

"I have a midterm coming up," Cyno says. "I'm stressed."

"Ah." Tighnari can certainly sympathize. "I'm sorry. We do get a lot of patrons around this time, hoping to take a break and relieve some stress."

Cyno doesn't seem to have much energy to make small talk today, not even telling any jokes, so Tighnari busies himself with pouring Cyno a drink. He passes it across the counter, Cyno mumbling his gratitude before taking a very large sip.

Tighnari remembers something. "Oh, I know something that might cheer you up." He points to a flyer on the wall advertising Lambad's new weekly TCG meetups, happening every Thursday night.

Instantly, Cyno sits up straight in his seat, his eyes wide. "No way! This is great news!" He reads over the flyer, then turns his gaze back to Tighnari, questioning. "Did you have something to do with this?"

"I may have been the one to suggest it to Lambad..." Tighnari managed to convince his boss in less than a minute. "We've been trying to attract new customers by hosting different events, so he was very excited about it. After all, the open mic nights have been pretty successful. You keep coming back for them, too."

"Right," Cyno says. "For the open mic night."

"I mean, I've never seen you at the tavern at any other time," Tighnari points out.

Cyno cocks his head. "You work other shifts? When are they?"

Tighnari finds himself suddenly flustered. "Um, I work from 8 p.m. until closing on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays."

Cyno nods. "Got it."

"Hey, bartender!" someone yells. Tighnari sighs, tries very hard not to roll his eyes, and turns to the other customer. The man is clearly quite drunk, collapsing onto the edge of the counter with a leery grin on his face.

"What can I get you," Tighnari says flatly.

The man winks sloppily. It sends shudders down Tighnari's spine. "Are you on the menu, fox boy?"

It's been many weeks since Tighnari last had to deal with a drunk idiot harassing him at his workplace. He plasters his politest customer-service smile on his face and says as coldly as he can, "I'm not interested. If you're not going to order anything, please leave space for other people at the bar."

Pouting, the man says, "Come on, don't play hard to get."

Cyno's voice cuts through the air, deeper than Tighnari has ever heard it: "He told you to leave him alone."

Tighnari had almost forgotten he was still there, an unfortunate witness to this unpleasant exchange.

Noticing Cyno for the first time, the man looks him up and down, then scoffs. "Oh, shut up." He turns back to Tighnari with an outstretched arm. "Think about the fun we could have, you and me and those big, beautiful ears—"

White-hot anger flashes through Tighnari, but before he can open his mouth and give the customer a piece of his mind, Cyno has grabbed the man's wrist and slammed it against the countertop.

Tighnari's mouth goes dry. He barely registers the man's yelp of pain.

Cyno leans in close, caging the man against the bar. "Leave him alone," he hisses, every word punctuated with venom. "Are we clear?"

In the silence, Tighnari can feel the eyes of everyone in the tavern on them. Still, he does not look away from Cyno, whose grip on the man's arm only tightens the longer he stares him down.

Eventually, the man scoffs and wrenches himself out of Cyno's hold. "Fucking weirdo," he spits, before turning and storming towards the exit.

Tighnari waits until a few seconds have passed, and only then does he allow himself to relax, his shoulders falling. But his heartbeat remains a loud roar in his own ears.

"Sorry," Cyno breathes, and Tighnari looks into his eyes to see a rare nervousness written all over his face. "So sorry. I didn't mean to make a scene. I was angry."

"No, no, don't apologize. I could've handled it, but... Thank you," Tighnari says, trying not to think about how quickly Cyno had moved, or how forcefully he'd pinned the other man down, or... Nope, he was definitely thinking about it.

"Hey."

Both of them look over to see Lambad's approaching figure. Across from Tighnari, Cyno freezes up.

"Please don't do that again," Lambad says, but there is no heat behind the words. "There will be no fights between customers in my establishment. Next time, just let the staff know, and we'll escort him out."

"Understood," Cyno says, still rigid.

As Lambad goes back to his work, Tighnari looks Cyno up and down. He's clearly still having trouble relaxing, his arms still tense by his sides. "Hey," he says, elbowing him gently to get his attention. "I really do appreciate it. Thanks for sticking up for me." And then, trying his best to lighten the mood, "Also, if I didn't think you were intimidating before, I'd definitely think you're intimidating now. Those reflexes were crazy. How strong are you?"

In a small voice, Cyno says, "You think I'm intimidating?"

Oh, fuck. Tighnari shouldn't have said that. "Well, when I first saw you on that stage, and you introduced yourself so solemnly, I was a little intimidated. But after getting to know you?" He smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way. "I trust you."

Cyno smiles back. Then pauses. "Did the jokes help?"

Tighnari sighs and says, carefully, "They did help to make you less intimidating, but maybe not in the way you think—"

"This is great news," Cyno says, so excited that Tighnari truly cannot bear to burst his bubble. His face turns serious again. "That guy was truly awful. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Tighnari says, and means it. "I've gotten used to the comments, and I've trusted Lambad with my safety for a long time. But thanks again."

"Do situations like this happen often?" Cyno asks, his eyes trained on Tighnari's ears.

Tighnari shrugs. "Not too often." When he was younger, people touched his ears without asking, which really bothered him. But these days, they mostly tend to stare or ask questions. It can be a little annoying, but it's much preferred.

"Well, I think your ears are cool," Cyno says, then adds quickly, "Not in a creepy way, like that guy. And I'm sorry that everything is so loud. But they suit you."

Suddenly, Tighnari finds his face a little warm, and he's grateful that in the low lighting of the tavern, Cyno can't see his blush. "Thanks," he says, keeping his tone purposefully light.

And if later that night, while struggling to fall asleep, his mind keeps replaying the moment that Cyno had slammed the man's wrist onto the countertop...

Well, that's no one's business but his own.

Cyno is one of the first patrons in the door on the night of Lambad's first TCG meetup. It's almost strange to see him outside of their Saturday encounters. He waves to Tighnari from afar, but makes a beeline for one of the tables that has been set up with a TCG mat. Tighnari waves back before returning to his tasks, though throughout the next hour, he can't help but look over at Cyno to see how he's doing.

Judging by the facial expressions of Cyno and his competitors, Cyno is completely dominating every game he plays. He's jubilant as he accepts victory, but then immensely focused on the next match, his face full of nothing but pure concentration. It's endearing to see another new side of Cyno unlocked.

By the time Cyno comes over to Tighnari after more than a few rounds, he looks happier and more relaxed than Tighnari has ever seen him. "Having a good night?" Tighnari asks.

"The best," Cyno says, eyes gleaming even in the tavern's dimmer lighting. "I've gotten to play a lot of interesting decks. This was an incredible idea, Tighnari."

Tighnari smiles. "I'm glad you're having fun."

Cyno looks like he's about to say more, but then someone from the TCG table yells, "Cyno, get back here! It's time for a rematch!"

"Looks like you're wanted." Tighnari nods in the direction of the table.

Cyno smiles sheepishly. "I wanted to spend more time talking to you," he says, earnest as always, like this is a perfectly normal thing to say and not doing outrageous things to Tighnari's heart rate, "but I guess that'll have to wait until next time."

Tighnari tries not to let the thrill that runs through him show on his face, because that would be embarrassing. But it's impossible to hide his smile. "Next time," he repeats.

Saturday rolls around again, and when Tighnari clocks in at Lambad's, he can no longer deny to himself that he is looking forward to seeing Cyno.

Ugh. Tighnari is cursed with just enough self-awareness, so he fully recognizes that somewhere along the way, he developed a crush. And to think this all started with the worst attempt at stand-up comedy of all time. Tighnari used to pride himself on having better taste than this. Still, he takes up his spot behind the bar and finds his eyes flicking to the entrance. He waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

And keeps waiting, just in case Cyno walks in late.

But there's no sign of Cyno. He never appears.

"Looking for your favorite regular?" Lambad asks at some point during the night, and Tighnari tears his gaze away from the entrance. Lambad smiles knowingly.

Tighnari fights the flush that threatens to come over his cheeks. "Just waiting for a friend," he says.

Lambad nods. "Right," he says, clearly not believing Tighnari one bit.

It's fine, Tighnari tells himself. Cyno was here on Thursday. He's a busy man. He'll probably stop by on Thursday for the TCG meetup, anyway.

But Cyno doesn't come on Thursday, either.

It's fine, Tighnari tells himself again. Cyno is definitely busy with schoolwork, with midterms, with whatever difficult assignments he's sure law students have their hands full with. Cyno is under no obligation to show up to Lambad's every week, unlike Tighnari, who is literally employed there. Cyno is an independent adult who can go wherever and do whatever he pleases, with no responsibility to anyone other than himself.

But he can't help but miss Cyno's comforting presence by the bar. Honestly, he wouldn't even mind hearing a terrible joke or two.

That's when he realizes he's way too far gone.

Cyno shows up on a Tuesday, of all days.

Tighnari is so surprised to see him that he nearly drops the drink he's preparing for a different customer. "Cyno," he says, once the other customer has drifted away. "Hi. I wasn't expecting you."

"Sorry," Cyno says, looking remorseful, "I've been really busy. The class I'm TAing had their first midterm, and a ton of students needed my help."

"No worries," Tighnari says. The rest of the words dawn on him. "Ah, they're asking you for help now? Are they less scared of you?"

"I think so," Cyno says. "Honestly, they're very shy, but I would like to think they're warming up to me."

That sounds about right. After all, how could anyone be scared of Cyno after getting to know him? How could anyone ever be intimidated by his gentle curiosity, or his love of card games, or his horrendous jokes, or his quiet smile?

"It's nice to see you back," Tighnari says, "even if it's weird to see you here on a regular night."

"Yeah, well..." Cyno smiles. "I missed you."

What a direct, honest statement. Earnest in the way Cyno always is. Tighnari cocks his head to the side, a gesture he realizes he may have adopted from Cyno, and says, "You know, if you want to talk to me outside of this tavern, you could always ask for my number."

Cyno's eyes widen. And then, "Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes," Tighnari says. For a brief moment, he fears he misjudged the situation entirely. Is Cyno straight? Is he already taken? Is he just like this with all of his platonic friends?

But then Cyno, not quite making eye contact with Tighnari, clears his throat and slides his phone across the counter. "Alright. What's your number?"

Tighnari smiles and types it in.

When he hands the phone back to Cyno, Cyno finally looks him in the eye; it appears to take him a great amount of effort to do so. "Thanks," Cyno manages. "I'll, uh, be in touch." And then he all but flees, not even bothering to tell a parting joke.

Tighnari hears warm laughter and looks over to see Lambad shaking his head to himself. "You know, you probably shouldn't be doing that while you're at work," Lambad says. "But since I've been watching this develop for months, I'll let it slide."

It's Tighnari's turn to avoid eye contact.

Later that night, after Tighnari wraps up his shift and is on his way home, he receives a text message from an unknown number.

[Unknown Number]
Are you a scientist? Because I've got my ion you

The typing bubble pops up, so he immediately scrambles to reply before any more messages appear.

[Unknown Number]
Get it
Because ion sounds like "eye on"

Tighnari
yes i get it thank you cyno

[Unknown Number]
Good
:-)
Did it hurt?

Tighnari
...when i fell from heaven?

[Unknown Number]
Oh you know that one already!
Hmm
Are you from Sumeru? Because you're the only Sum I ru

Tighnari
???

[Unknown Number]
Your hand looks kind of heavy, can I hold it for you?

Tighnari
i feel like these are just pick-up lines
not jokes

[Unknown Number]
Okay hang on I have a really funny one
It's a little long though
So a Genius Invokation TCG player and a cute bartender walk into a bar...

It's absolutely not funny. And yet, Tighnari can't stop himself from smiling.