[ his food seems to regain its taste after. the dolma is both moist and savoury, the meats not terribly overdone. tighnari's hand curls in cyno's when he is done, and they both seem ready. the music plays on, nearing the end of one tune, the start of another. ]
[ with their meals finishes up, tighnari slips their hands together, and cyno leads him to the dance floor. though he does his best to keep them inconspicuous, near the edge of the floor rather than in the center, there are nonetheless eyes on them. of course there are. the music lightens, and cyno begins to slowly lead, moving tighnari's body with his own.
he is.. surprisingly, quite good at dancing. cyno had been clumsy when first learning, but he soon realized that a dance is not unlike a fight, and with his polearm there are none who could rival his sleek movements. he does his best to show tighnari where to place his feet, his arms, how to move his hands. ]
Getting it? [ he asks, and then, thoughtlessly: ] You look beautiful tonight, Tighnari.
[ cyon draws tighnari onto the dance floor, and tighnari follows. warmth settles in along his hip, his shoulder. wherever cyno touches, tighnari leans into, like a flower seeking spring. he doesn't realise he's doing it until the third song starts, and tighnari realises - the fit of cyno's hands against his, their fingers entertwined, it does something for him. the dance itself falls to the wayside as he considers this with something like wonder.
tighnari feels warm. ]
Do I? [ he laughs at that. but there's a flicker of his ear, something nearly bashful in it as he focuses on where to place his feet. ] I suppose I should compliment you as well. You look handsome, Cyno. Your teaching is also alright.
You don't need to compliment me because I complimented you.
[ the music slows, and so does cyno, drawing tighnari in a little nearer. his pulse quickens, but this is something that cyno has begun to grow accustomed to, around tighnari, when they are close. his nearness sparks a heat beneath cyno's skin that has begun to feel so routine that he can almost ignore it. almost. ]
[ with tighnari's hand in his, cyno spins him, then pulls him close, the scent of tighnari's skin so near enough to make his pulse spike. one hand skims down tighnari's arm, over and along the shape of it as he lifts it, demonstrating the movement in an elegant sweep before that hand is dropping to the small of tighnari's back, easing him in until their bodies are flush.
cyno's breath rushes. his eyes, molten fire, fix on tighnari's face, and the deep rumble of his voice is quiet, private. ]
[ he's swept away. tighnari's feet carry him through the motions, as light as rain. cyno holds him close, his hand skimming down the exposed skin of his arm, and tighnari thinks - he's teased him too far. his skin reddens where touched, a full-body flush that has him staring, eyes wide, at cyno's face.
they are nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh. the sound of the musicians playing gamely on seems ever so far away. tighnari's has never felt so warm before. it feels a bit like drowning. ]
Better. [ he says, and it comes out like a whisper. his hand finds purchase on the nape of cyno's neck. he curls in, face against his chest - and has to remember himself. ]
Better. [ he says again, and then, because he can, flicks cyno's forehead with a finger. ] But you'll need to work on your arrogance. Mister Mahamatra.
[ tighnari, he thinks, feels it too. he must feel it. this.. sweet, sultry magnetism, the way they tip toward each other, falling into one another's orbit so effortlessly. it's not uncommon for tighnari to tease him. they touch often, and he's quite sure that tighnari is well aware of cyno's.. attraction, but it has been little more than playful interest. shameless, but innocent flirting, like young students behave; sometimes tighnari makes cyno feel like a foolish schoolboy.
it goes nowhere. it never goes anywhere. they touch one another easily, share space, share a bed and toe a line they never cross. for cyno's part, the dance between them is more complicated, the power imbalance is clear, and he respects tighnari far too much to desecrate what limited freedoms he has. there are also.. other matters, revelations he has kept to himself.
yet there is no denying the sensuousness of the moment, when they begin to move together to the music, when teaching becomes dancing, as tighnari allows instinct to lead. they press so close that it's easy for cyno to feel the curves of tighnari's body, and the scent of him crowds him from all sides, and when tighnari's face presses against his bare chest cyno's head turns, nose and mouth drifting against the back of one warm, furred ear. his heart is in his throat.
until tighnari speaks again, and flicks his forehead like a mother chastising their child. ]
[ tighnari shakes his head. his ears sway, tickling the tip of cyno's chin as he considers, tries, and fails at consolidating his thoughts. but he knows the rhythm of this one, the prevailing theme that trails like a pulled tail. he breathes out, a long exhale of breath against the planes of cyno's chest, and allows his hands to rest along the nape of his neck, soft and sure.
by the time he has collected himself, tighnari can lift his face. still-red, still-flushed, and almost, just almost, on the cusp of being able to look him in the eyes. ]
[ tighnari's hands at the nape of his neck feel warm, and soft, cyno enjoys the weight of them. the music shifts, and they shift with it, and cyno no longer feels the eyes on them, wrapped up as he is in this moment, this heat. ]
First I am not hands-on enough, now I am too.. suave. Critical fox.
[ tighnari gives him a look much as if he's rolling his eyes without moving them at all. it suggests that he would roll his entire body if he could, if he had not been caught in cyno's arms, in a gentle sway, in swathing warmth. ]
Shush, and take your criticism as it comes. It's not up to me to explain exactly the minute flaws that you have; it is up to you to self-reflect and find a solution. Or are you not up to the challenge, Cyno?
Perhaps you should reflect on just why you're so critical, yourself.
[ but even if tighnari isn't looking into his face, he'll hear the light smile in cyno's voice; he's teasing. ]
I'll never be without flaws, and neither -
[ but whatever cyno intended to say is cut off when a handsome scholar approaches, asking to cut in, and.. completely shattering the moment. for a brief second cyno looks a little surprised, before he's looking toward tighnari. it's his choice, after all. ]
[ tighnari starts. the appearance of a third person is unwelcome. his ears perk, the long line of his tail lashes. but - the man hurries to explain, and tighnari's eyes widen. doctor arlesh, he introduces himself, of the biomedical studies institute, amurta darshan. he has heard of the valuka shuna kept by the general mahamatra and his astounding wit; he has heard more regarding a mysterious student of an unnamed darshan who picked some of his doctors' heads clean of all thought while getting to the bottom fo eleazar. he had put two and two together upon seeing him here tonight, graced by the grand sage himself, and was wondering if he could have a moment of his time...
tighnari's eyes meet cyno's. he sees the acquiescence there. tighnari's ears prickle. his eyes glint as he, finally, lets cyno go.
the night wears on. one conversation with doctor arlesh turns into an exchange of opinions with nimra, sister of dariush of kshahrewar darshan, who chose spantamad herself but whose expertise in ruin guards and their native cycles allows her to draw parallels between machine and lifeforms in a way that doesn't breach the taboo of evolution, which then stems into a debate with hassan of amurta, who questions the difference in biology between valuka shuna and the katzlein of mondstadt, and is eager to pull up studies on his akasha terminal to support his claims. time passes before tighnari realises that he is surrounded and adrift in an unfamiliar sea. he lifts his head only long enough to spot the trailing end of cyno's helmet - and before long, he's worming his way out, excuses on the tip of his tongue as he shakes off a lingering crowd for something that doesn't make his ears ring. ]
at first, he does not mind the cut-in. tighnari seemed comfortable enough with it, and so cyno had dipped his head and relented, missing his warmth the moment it was gone.
yet tighnari does not come back, not in a few minutes, not in two hours. at first, cyno is worried, fear catching his heart - had something happened? though cyno certainly sees tighnari differently than many others might, he cannot forget that to sumeru as a whole, he is a precious commodity, one that anyone would be willing to snap up for their own, and tighnari does not have his bow. but when cyno cuts through the crowd to find him, heart racing, fear prickling down his spine, he finds.. that tighnari is quite fine, indeed. quite fine, chatting the evening away with bright eyes and a swaying tail.
cyno's jaw sets. he does not interrupt, but instead falls into old routines - lurking around the edges of the room, that is, looking surly and unapproachable. when tighnari at last calls out for him, cyno casts him a cool glance, the set of his shoulders stiff. ]
[ yes, cyno asks, and tighnari's ears prickle up like a hunting thing. his steps slow, the trail of his tail like air behind him. but tighnari has never shied away from a conversation, and cyno is cyno - so he finishes his steps forward to join him along the edges of the room. around them, the gala enters full swing. the quartet plays a jovial set in their corner.
tighnari bows his head, and steps to lean against the wall. ]
They had questions, about all sorts of topics. I thought it would only be about what I am, but they were equally interested in learning what I know. It was strange.
part of him understands the pettiness of his mood, and he feels foolish for it, foolish for feeling at all wounded. he is a justice-made man, and cyno himself is not exempt from his own reflection, however much tighnari might have teased him for it earlier. always, he is weighing his own thoughts, his own decisions, comparing them against the doctrine of his mind and heart. yet he can't shake off his annoyance as easily as he would like, for how deeply rooted it is in his own shortcomings, his own well-guarded insecurities. ]
[ cyno's silent. it's a silence where you can cast into a thousand stones and not a single one emerges to tell the tale of water. tighnari pauses, and tries, again: ]
They had theories and thoughts that I had never heard of. I hadn't thought it possible to speak to them candidly, with them knowing what I am. It has me suspicious of their secondary intentions - but their research, if nothing, is true.
[ a beat. one of tighnari's ears flicker. his gaze assesses the set of cyno's shoulders, the cast of his gaze across the crowd, and back. he has not, he realises, ever seen cyno in this particular mood before. it puts him on edge. it must. the euphoria of having met like-minds dashes against the sudden chill of something unnamed. tighnari's tail stills along his side as he considers, rationally, the implications, even as something cold settles in the pit of his stomach. ]
And I'm capable of speaking for much longer, but only so much as my conversation partner allows for it. [ he draws himself up, the tips of his ears pricked. he is tighnari - he has never faced anything in any way save for head-on. ] Cyno, will you speak to me?
[ head-on is how cyno prefers things as well, but perhaps not in this particular setting, and not when he is feeling so torn, so hot-headed. cyno is a patient, disciplined man, it is not often that he allows emotion to get the better of him, however tender his heart might be beneath the thorny exterior of his reputation. this is stupid. this is very, very stupid. they should wait. talk later, when cyno has had the chance to cool his head and think. ]
[ fine, tighnari says, suggesting that it is very much not fine, but cyno responds with a simple gruff noise, and turns.
the walk to the garden is short, but cyno does not stop once they enter. it isn't until they're a good way into the labyrinthine passages of well-maintained vines and delicate canopies that he stops in a secluded alcove, turning to face tighnari, his expression distant. it's quite beautiful here, fragrant and manicured, with hanging lights that glimmer and glow, but cyno isn't feeling particularly appreciative of the scenery. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Rather, I believe I deserve more.
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We'll see how your dance lesson goes, maybe I will come up with more.
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[ his food seems to regain its taste after. the dolma is both moist and savoury, the meats not terribly overdone. tighnari's hand curls in cyno's when he is done, and they both seem ready. the music plays on, nearing the end of one tune, the start of another. ]
So? What's first?
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he is.. surprisingly, quite good at dancing. cyno had been clumsy when first learning, but he soon realized that a dance is not unlike a fight, and with his polearm there are none who could rival his sleek movements. he does his best to show tighnari where to place his feet, his arms, how to move his hands. ]
Getting it? [ he asks, and then, thoughtlessly: ] You look beautiful tonight, Tighnari.
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tighnari feels warm. ]
Do I? [ he laughs at that. but there's a flicker of his ear, something nearly bashful in it as he focuses on where to place his feet. ] I suppose I should compliment you as well. You look handsome, Cyno. Your teaching is also alright.
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[ the music slows, and so does cyno, drawing tighnari in a little nearer. his pulse quickens, but this is something that cyno has begun to grow accustomed to, around tighnari, when they are close. his nearness sparks a heat beneath cyno's skin that has begun to feel so routine that he can almost ignore it. almost. ]
How can I improve my teaching?
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I was hoping it would be a little more hands-on.
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[ with tighnari's hand in his, cyno spins him, then pulls him close, the scent of tighnari's skin so near enough to make his pulse spike. one hand skims down tighnari's arm, over and along the shape of it as he lifts it, demonstrating the movement in an elegant sweep before that hand is dropping to the small of tighnari's back, easing him in until their bodies are flush.
cyno's breath rushes. his eyes, molten fire, fix on tighnari's face, and the deep rumble of his voice is quiet, private. ]
Better?
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they are nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh. the sound of the musicians playing gamely on seems ever so far away. tighnari's has never felt so warm before. it feels a bit like drowning. ]
Better. [ he says, and it comes out like a whisper. his hand finds purchase on the nape of cyno's neck. he curls in, face against his chest - and has to remember himself. ]
Better. [ he says again, and then, because he can, flicks cyno's forehead with a finger. ] But you'll need to work on your arrogance. Mister Mahamatra.
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it goes nowhere. it never goes anywhere. they touch one another easily, share space, share a bed and toe a line they never cross. for cyno's part, the dance between them is more complicated, the power imbalance is clear, and he respects tighnari far too much to desecrate what limited freedoms he has. there are also.. other matters, revelations he has kept to himself.
yet there is no denying the sensuousness of the moment, when they begin to move together to the music, when teaching becomes dancing, as tighnari allows instinct to lead. they press so close that it's easy for cyno to feel the curves of tighnari's body, and the scent of him crowds him from all sides, and when tighnari's face presses against his bare chest cyno's head turns, nose and mouth drifting against the back of one warm, furred ear. his heart is in his throat.
until tighnari speaks again, and flicks his forehead like a mother chastising their child. ]
My arrogance?
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by the time he has collected himself, tighnari can lift his face. still-red, still-flushed, and almost, just almost, on the cusp of being able to look him in the eyes. ]
You believe yourself so suave.
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[ tighnari's hands at the nape of his neck feel warm, and soft, cyno enjoys the weight of them. the music shifts, and they shift with it, and cyno no longer feels the eyes on them, wrapped up as he is in this moment, this heat. ]
First I am not hands-on enough, now I am too.. suave. Critical fox.
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Shush, and take your criticism as it comes. It's not up to me to explain exactly the minute flaws that you have; it is up to you to self-reflect and find a solution. Or are you not up to the challenge, Cyno?
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[ but even if tighnari isn't looking into his face, he'll hear the light smile in cyno's voice; he's teasing. ]
I'll never be without flaws, and neither -
[ but whatever cyno intended to say is cut off when a handsome scholar approaches, asking to cut in, and.. completely shattering the moment. for a brief second cyno looks a little surprised, before he's looking toward tighnari. it's his choice, after all. ]
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tighnari's eyes meet cyno's. he sees the acquiescence there. tighnari's ears prickle. his eyes glint as he, finally, lets cyno go.
the night wears on. one conversation with doctor arlesh turns into an exchange of opinions with nimra, sister of dariush of kshahrewar darshan, who chose spantamad herself but whose expertise in ruin guards and their native cycles allows her to draw parallels between machine and lifeforms in a way that doesn't breach the taboo of evolution, which then stems into a debate with hassan of amurta, who questions the difference in biology between valuka shuna and the katzlein of mondstadt, and is eager to pull up studies on his akasha terminal to support his claims. time passes before tighnari realises that he is surrounded and adrift in an unfamiliar sea. he lifts his head only long enough to spot the trailing end of cyno's helmet - and before long, he's worming his way out, excuses on the tip of his tongue as he shakes off a lingering crowd for something that doesn't make his ears ring. ]
Cyno. [ he calls out, and stills. ]
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at first, he does not mind the cut-in. tighnari seemed comfortable enough with it, and so cyno had dipped his head and relented, missing his warmth the moment it was gone.
yet tighnari does not come back, not in a few minutes, not in two hours. at first, cyno is worried, fear catching his heart - had something happened? though cyno certainly sees tighnari differently than many others might, he cannot forget that to sumeru as a whole, he is a precious commodity, one that anyone would be willing to snap up for their own, and tighnari does not have his bow. but when cyno cuts through the crowd to find him, heart racing, fear prickling down his spine, he finds.. that tighnari is quite fine, indeed. quite fine, chatting the evening away with bright eyes and a swaying tail.
cyno's jaw sets. he does not interrupt, but instead falls into old routines - lurking around the edges of the room, that is, looking surly and unapproachable. when tighnari at last calls out for him, cyno casts him a cool glance, the set of his shoulders stiff. ]
Yes?
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tighnari bows his head, and steps to lean against the wall. ]
They had questions, about all sorts of topics. I thought it would only be about what I am, but they were equally interested in learning what I know. It was strange.
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[ and for his part, cyno remains silent.
part of him understands the pettiness of his mood, and he feels foolish for it, foolish for feeling at all wounded. he is a justice-made man, and cyno himself is not exempt from his own reflection, however much tighnari might have teased him for it earlier. always, he is weighing his own thoughts, his own decisions, comparing them against the doctrine of his mind and heart. yet he can't shake off his annoyance as easily as he would like, for how deeply rooted it is in his own shortcomings, his own well-guarded insecurities. ]
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They had theories and thoughts that I had never heard of. I hadn't thought it possible to speak to them candidly, with them knowing what I am. It has me suspicious of their secondary intentions - but their research, if nothing, is true.
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You spoke candidly for two hours.
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And I'm capable of speaking for much longer, but only so much as my conversation partner allows for it. [ he draws himself up, the tips of his ears pricked. he is tighnari - he has never faced anything in any way save for head-on. ] Cyno, will you speak to me?
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Yes.
[ but he cannot deny tighnari anything. ]
Not here.
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There's a back garden. I doubt anyone would be there this early in the night. We can leave through that exit.
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the walk to the garden is short, but cyno does not stop once they enter. it isn't until they're a good way into the labyrinthine passages of well-maintained vines and delicate canopies that he stops in a secluded alcove, turning to face tighnari, his expression distant. it's quite beautiful here, fragrant and manicured, with hanging lights that glimmer and glow, but cyno isn't feeling particularly appreciative of the scenery. ]
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imagining the aranari singing kiss the girl
LMAO
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it only took 500 comments... wheezes blood
IT WAS A GOOD 500 COMMENTS... YELLS INTO MY HANDS
YELLS WITH U
i love them..... sm....
idiots... but also babies...
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