for @citer

[cashewlater]

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[cashewlater]

[ cyno huffs a soft sound like a laugh. bedrock.. there are plenty more unflattering comparisons to be made, and though cyno hardly knows what to do with compliments, he's nevertheless glad that tighnari sees him so favorably. ]

Until the earth quakes beneath your feet, I suppose.

[ there's a joke to be made about rocking, but cyno does not find himself in a joking mood. removing the last of his baubles, cyno sets his helm aside, and ties his hair back in a thick tail. ]

If I am bedrock, I suppose that you are water. Calm and nurturing, brimming with life, but if you aren't careful, you'll drown yourself in it. You could erode even the toughest bedrock.

[citer]

Oh? [ tighnari's ears perk. ] Do you find yourself eroded, General Mahamatra?

[cashewlater]

Not yet. Erosion takes time.

[citer]

We'd better make time, then.

[ satisfied with his preparations, tighnari pats the leaf-covered cot. ]

Come, I've made the bed. It's smaller than what we had back at the palace, but I think we'll make shift.

[cashewlater]

[ shrugging off some of his silks, cyno tosses them with his cloak. ]

I don't mind sleeping on the floor, if you'd like more room. I'm used to it.

[citer]

I wouldn't sleep well, knowing that you're on the ground. Also, do I take up so much space?

[cashewlater]

That isn't what I said. [ but he relents, and sits at the edge of the cot. fatigue is finally beginning to set in. ] But you do kick. [ ehehe. ]

[citer]

Hey. [ a beat. ] Do I? Where do I kick?

[cashewlater]

[ cyno reclines with a sigh, his back popping in that wonderfully satisfying way. ]

Just little kicks. Like a sleeping pup.

[citer]

A pup. [ entirely faux scandalised. tighnari's elbow finds itself into cyno's side as he settles in as well, tucked in against the wall and his tail akimbo. ] At least use the proper term for it - Valuka Shuna children are called kits. Not that I've been one for the past decade, nor do I kick like one.

Here, turn around. Let me see your back. We'll see how hard I really kick.

[cashewlater]

Like a fox. That makes sense.

[ ow! elbow! but cyno can only huff a muted laugh; it's.. nice, to be close enough with someone to be able to exchange friendly banter, cyno can't think of anyone who would dare to elbow the general mahamatra, besides this opinionated brat beside him. it feels.. good. ]

I don't think I will, thank you. How do you know you don't kick? You're asleep.

[citer]

And you are not? Or are you able to perceive things while asleep, now? Who here is pulling my leg, really.

[ but the tone is light, if anything. tighnari settles in, and faces cyno with a sigh. ]

Turn around anyway. Let me take a look at your shoulders; you're tense again.

[cashewlater]

Yes, of course I'm asleep. Until you kick me.

[ whether or not cyno is telling the full truth is A Mystery, but he shifts nevertheless, and turns his back to tighnari. he is, in fact, always tense again. ]

[citer]

You may sleep forever, after I kick you next.

[ darkly! as darkly as a valuka shuna is when putting his hands over cyno's back. the tense knots of muscle are back, like solid, tangled stone. he begins to work his hands in, putting his weight behind each, soliciting push. ]

It's too bad I didn't bring any of the scented oils. You'll just have to made do with my hands alone.

[cashewlater]

I don't doubt that.

[ he's taught this fox how to kill a man, after all. but those hands are warm and soft, and cyno finds himself immediately beginning to lean back into it. a soft sigh rides on his next exhale, his shoulders sloping beneath tighnari's touch. it feels as good as ever. ]

Mm.. your hands alone are just as good.

[citer]

[ cyno begins to melt beneath his touch. tighnari smiles to himself, his tail a-flicker as he continues his ministrations. there's a particularly stubborn knot to his right - he begins to lean. ]

Don't say that. That's very suggestive of you. An Aranara listening in may get the wrong impression, and then what will they think?

[cashewlater]

[ cyno's ears redden, and he clears his throat, but there's a smile in his voice. ]

They live in a fertile forest brimming with wildlife that is happy to rut in the open, in front of the gods and everyone. Do you think they'd be scandalized by your wicked hands?

[ ah - that's good. if they're going to be scandalized by anything, it's cyno's next groan. ]

[citer]

[ the red of cyno's ears is fetching against his sun-kissed skin. tighnari nearly leans in to take a closer look at the hue, pausing only when cyno lets out a sound that can only be described as borderline obscene.

tighnari's hands shiver, and then he's balling his fingers up into a fist to give cyno a friendly punch to the shoulder - he has, after all, earned it. ]

Wicked? I ought to use that word to describe you. Make that sound again, and I guarantee you the entire forest will come down on your head. And if it doesn't - remember, I did say guarantee.

[cashewlater]

[ cyno very rarely laughs, even with tighnari, but he laughs now, light and soft, the sound almost like a purr in his chest. ]

How am I supposed to help it? It feels good. Perhaps you ought to get your mind out of the street gutter if you're thinking more of it; I'm entirely innocent.

[ he's asking for it, he knows.. ]

[citer]

Street gutter! The lip on you. I'd better not let you get away with it.

[ the mock affront! tighnari laughs. the sound is that of a bark in the night; his tail curls as he leans in to wrap his arms around cyno. his teeth mar his shoulder, a bite as light as it is playful. ]

imagining the aranari singing kiss the girl

[cashewlater]

[ tighnari's laugh is warm and welcome, though his slim arms around cyno's middle are a bit of a surprise, as are those sharp teeth. ]

Biting me, now? I should have known that you would turn on me, someday, you feral little foxling.

[ and cyno is strong, it's quite easy for him to shift in tighnari's hold, flipping around to get his fingers into tighnari's ribs, tickling hard. ]

LMAO

[citer]

[ it seems silly to even mention it, but he has never been tickled before. the valuka shuna are untouchable, in more ways than one. tickling is an act of social bonding. you wouldn't bond with a gift anymore than you would bond with a cow ready for slaughter.

cyno puts his hands against tighnari's waist, and tighnari yelps. the sound, entirely involuntary, reverberates through the little round hut they have taken shelter in like a popped bubble. his tail flicks madly as he rolls. tighnari's back hits the wall, his hands automatically rising to fend off the attack. ]

Cyno! [ he can't seem to stop laughing today. something warm cards through him. ]

[cashewlater]

[ tighnari's laugh is like a sweet chime, and cyno continues his onslaught as long as he can, tickling at tighnari's ribs and at his waist, pressing the attack when he retreats, until he's able to snag tighnari's wrists and pin him to the wall like a butterfly spread across a mat. ]

Do you yield?

[ he's flushed and panting with effort, his smile broad. for all the danger they are facing, this feels nice. good. ]

[citer]

[ exterted, and panting with effort - two mirrors side by side, tighnari thinks, as exertion overtakes him. he allows his wrists to be pinned. the echo of fingers along his side is like fireants, their steady march up his body carrying with them the crimson of an incoming flush. first, his neck, and then his cheeks, and then the very tips of his ears as they warm.

cyno is smiling. the world seems both warmer and brighter for it. he can hear cyno's quickened heartbeat like the drums of war.

he can hear his own. ]

Cyno. [ he says again, in lieu of answering his question. ]

[cashewlater]

[ tighnari's fair skin does him no favors, and even in the dim light of the glow of forest flowers, he can see the way color bleeds into tighnari's neck and chest and cheeks. and then - then he is breathing cyno's name like that, in a way that makes his chest twist up and his skin tighten over his bones.

cyno's smile fades, but not from displeasure, and his eyelids drop a little lower over the molten wreaths of his irises. they're quite close. as close as they had been while they danced. cyno feels his throat constrict, his grasp on tighnari's wrists loosening.

this is not the first time he has felt this way - tighnari brings it out in him quite easily - this feeling that threatens to suffocate him. he asks again, softly, his voice like velvet. ]

.. do you yield?