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.
[ 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.
[ 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. ]
[ 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.
[ 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. ]
[ 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?
[ 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. ]
[ 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.
[ 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.
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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ reality, at the back of his mind, brimming: cyno's guilt, the lashing of tighnari's fate to his, the knowledge that this can be interpreted as taking advantage. a valuka shuna cementing his right to live in the world. this is the wrong time. it will not be the right time for some time. and cyno cannot afford to be distracted, not after tonight, not with azar as his opponent.
counterpoint: their opponent. tighnari is more than just a valuka shuna. cyno will learn, tighnari will learn. it will never be the right time, and - perhaps it is exactly what tighnari needs to ask for, for a future where neither of them will regret this moment.
cyno allows his wrists to free. tighnari looks at him. ]
I wouldn't. [ is what tighnari says, his tone crisp, clear, like fresh springwater. ] Not to anyone. But I am considering yielding to you.
[ and then: ] Cyno, I think I would like to kiss you. Will you allow me?
[ tighnari's bold words are a fist around his heart, squeezing, and cyno's breath rushes into the silence that lingers between them after tighnari asks that question.
no, it will never be the right time. not while tighnari is seen as his property, while cyno has resisted him for this very reason. he should say no, he should not allow this playful thing between them to blossom into something more - there are so many reasons he could list, reasons to shut this down quickly and smartly. cyno is a wise enough man to understand how terrible this looks on paper.
but he is also an instinctive man, a tender-hearted man, and he has been interested in tighnari since the moment he opened his mouth and a spark came out, he is sharp wit and beautiful rebellion in the shape of a man, and cyno finds himself more enamoured with each passing day. he has always followed his heart, and his gut. he will not stop tonight. at last cyno dips his head, pale hair tumbling free over his shoulders as he touches their brows together, his lips ghosting against tighnari's like an errant breath. ]
[ cyno is kind. tighnari knows this to be true. he curls until tighari's forehead presses against his, warmth against warmth. he tastes the word on cyno's lips. yes.
in the face of such rock-sure certainty, what more can tighnari do? there is a tomorrow wherein consequences will need to be weighed, feelings to be catalogued and voiced, a long way to caravan ribat and a new complexity to navigate. but that is for tomorrow's tighnari to consider. today's tighnari allows the warmth in his chest to seep. tighnari's hands slip themselves into the soft, pale waterfall of cyno's hair. the long, dark lashes of his eyes cast themselves into the green of his eyes. he tilts into the warmth of his inviting lips.
much as he had announced he would do, tighnari kisses him. ]
[ tighnari's mouth meets his own, and a rush of heat comes with it, threatening to overtake him. in the grand scheme of things they have not known one another long, and yet in many ways it feels as if tighnari has always been part of his life. always been beside him. coming home to him makes that opulent palace bearable, and he is the first real friend that cyno has ever had.
he's certainly the first person that cyno has really wanted to kiss. he has kissed before, but that is a story for another time; right now, the world is narrowing down to this moment, to this sweet, gentle space, this slice of the universe where the walls are lit by the glow of delicate flora, where leaves rustle beneath their bodies, and crisp, cool forest air curls against cyno's shoulders. this is all that there is.
tighnari's hands slip into his hair, and cyno's arms close around him, sweeping him near as he tilts his head to better facilitate their kiss, slotting their mouths neatly together. it feels so simple. so easy. effortless. as if they've kissed a thousand times before. ]
[ you could not be trained for beauty without knowing beauty. he had thought cyno beautiful that day on the balcony, trailed in the colours of a titian sunset, outlined with dark lines of kohl. he had seemed justice made into the form of a man. perhaps tighnari needs to understand, now, that the set of his shoulders had seemed lonely for it. justice stands alone. you could not be friends with justice. you could not tickle it. you could not have it teach you to use a bow, and you could not put your hands onto its back and work out the knots of tension the way you would knead flatbread. justice is a pedestal that they had once put cyno upon, a cage by any other name. justice cannot be so warm, a gentle sweetness wrapped around him with all the kindness and safety of a sun's warm rays.
that justice made into the form of a man is called cyno. tighnari kisses him. the tilt of his head sweeps cyno's lips against his. he tastes like zaytun peaches and springwater. he tastes as warm as a living sunburst and as cool and ravishing as the stars. if you told tighnari that he himself had been trained for this, he, too, would be surprised - the kiss is kind in the way that kisses had never been. kissing cyno is easy. they slot together like two pieces of a puzzle; as if they've kissed a thousand times before, and since.
cyno is justice made into the form of a man, but before that, he is simply a man. you could love a man. tighnari leans into him, an open-mouthed smile for an open-mouthed kiss, and he begins to laugh. ]
[ this close, cyno is buried in tighnari's scent, overwhelmed by it. he smells of dust and sweat and horses, faintly of blood, but below that his aroma is the same as always, a scent that brings cyno home - sweet lotus and fresh rainwater, the smell of plants and the earth after a storm. the smell of comfort, of strong hands at his back, of a smile to greet him.
and then the syrupy tension of the moment is breaking apart when tighnari begins to laugh, his mouth curving against cyno's lips, leaving him momentarily puzzled. yet tighnari's laugh is warm and infectious, and cyno soon finds himself smiling as well. ]
[ tighnari, fresh on love and warm for it, shakes his head. the tips of his ears curl down, skimming the crown of cyno's head. cyno, who is pressed to him, nose-to-nose, mouth-to-mouth, the colour of his eyes a glorious titian sunset. ]
No. Your jokes are, but your kisses are fine. [ tighnari brings their foreheads back together. his hand finds rest against cyno's nape - sure, warm, and safe. ] I'm very happy right now.
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Just little kicks. Like a sleeping pup.
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Here, turn around. Let me see your back. We'll see how hard I really kick.
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[ 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.
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[ 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.
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[ 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. ]
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[ 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.
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[ 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.
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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?
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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. ]
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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.
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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.. ]
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[ 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
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
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. ]
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Do you yield?
[ he's flushed and panting with effort, his smile broad. for all the danger they are facing, this feels nice. good. ]
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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. ]
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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?
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counterpoint: their opponent. tighnari is more than just a valuka shuna. cyno will learn, tighnari will learn. it will never be the right time, and - perhaps it is exactly what tighnari needs to ask for, for a future where neither of them will regret this moment.
cyno allows his wrists to free. tighnari looks at him. ]
I wouldn't. [ is what tighnari says, his tone crisp, clear, like fresh springwater. ] Not to anyone. But I am considering yielding to you.
[ and then: ] Cyno, I think I would like to kiss you. Will you allow me?
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no, it will never be the right time. not while tighnari is seen as his property, while cyno has resisted him for this very reason. he should say no, he should not allow this playful thing between them to blossom into something more - there are so many reasons he could list, reasons to shut this down quickly and smartly. cyno is a wise enough man to understand how terrible this looks on paper.
but he is also an instinctive man, a tender-hearted man, and he has been interested in tighnari since the moment he opened his mouth and a spark came out, he is sharp wit and beautiful rebellion in the shape of a man, and cyno finds himself more enamoured with each passing day. he has always followed his heart, and his gut. he will not stop tonight. at last cyno dips his head, pale hair tumbling free over his shoulders as he touches their brows together, his lips ghosting against tighnari's like an errant breath. ]
Yes.
it only took 500 comments... wheezes blood
in the face of such rock-sure certainty, what more can tighnari do? there is a tomorrow wherein consequences will need to be weighed, feelings to be catalogued and voiced, a long way to caravan ribat and a new complexity to navigate. but that is for tomorrow's tighnari to consider. today's tighnari allows the warmth in his chest to seep. tighnari's hands slip themselves into the soft, pale waterfall of cyno's hair. the long, dark lashes of his eyes cast themselves into the green of his eyes. he tilts into the warmth of his inviting lips.
much as he had announced he would do, tighnari kisses him. ]
IT WAS A GOOD 500 COMMENTS... YELLS INTO MY HANDS
he's certainly the first person that cyno has really wanted to kiss. he has kissed before, but that is a story for another time; right now, the world is narrowing down to this moment, to this sweet, gentle space, this slice of the universe where the walls are lit by the glow of delicate flora, where leaves rustle beneath their bodies, and crisp, cool forest air curls against cyno's shoulders. this is all that there is.
tighnari's hands slip into his hair, and cyno's arms close around him, sweeping him near as he tilts his head to better facilitate their kiss, slotting their mouths neatly together. it feels so simple. so easy. effortless. as if they've kissed a thousand times before. ]
YELLS WITH U
that justice made into the form of a man is called cyno. tighnari kisses him. the tilt of his head sweeps cyno's lips against his. he tastes like zaytun peaches and springwater. he tastes as warm as a living sunburst and as cool and ravishing as the stars. if you told tighnari that he himself had been trained for this, he, too, would be surprised - the kiss is kind in the way that kisses had never been. kissing cyno is easy. they slot together like two pieces of a puzzle; as if they've kissed a thousand times before, and since.
cyno is justice made into the form of a man, but before that, he is simply a man. you could love a man. tighnari leans into him, an open-mouthed smile for an open-mouthed kiss, and he begins to laugh. ]
i love them..... sm....
and then the syrupy tension of the moment is breaking apart when tighnari begins to laugh, his mouth curving against cyno's lips, leaving him momentarily puzzled. yet tighnari's laugh is warm and infectious, and cyno soon finds himself smiling as well. ]
Don't tell me my kisses are that bad.
idiots... but also babies...
No. Your jokes are, but your kisses are fine. [ tighnari brings their foreheads back together. his hand finds rest against cyno's nape - sure, warm, and safe. ] I'm very happy right now.
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