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In the months following Lesser Lord Kusanali’s firm yet careful guidance, Sumeru blossoms. Though corruption has been halted, and Eleazar patients recovered, Tighnari finds himself busier than ever, tending to remaining Withering Zones while keeping the sages in line. His tendency to shoulder responsibility beyond his due is nothing new, but the seams begin to show when the solstice passes, then the new solar cycle, and he realises he had completely forgotten about his rut until the prodromes started to appear.
Tighnari’s tail twitches with agitation as he hunches over his desk while double checking the date, desperately hoping he’s mistaken. But no, the red circle on his calendar clearly informs him his rut will be here in one week. Drat.
Sighing, Tighnari lets his head fall backwards, running through contingencies in his head. He can probably take the first three days off to ride out the worst of it, but he has Akademiya lectures booked at the end of the week that he has no way of rescheduling. If he had a partner to spend his rut with there’s a chance it’ll last short enough he can still make it but alas…
What an unfortunate predicament he’s found himself in.
First order of business is to inform Collei, he decides. He can ask her to take over his Forest Watcher duties for those first three days, at least, and as for the lectures…he supposes he will just have to swallow his pride and cancel - oh dear, he really has been overworking himself. He almost forgot - there is one more appointment he has to regrettably reschedule…
*
The last Disciple of Decay explodes into green light as the arrow hits true.
Tighnari releases a shaky exhale before tensing again at the sudden noise behind him. An ear turns. He swings his bow backward sharply, thrusting his weight into it - and freezes, just before the bow grazes Cyno’s neck.
“Oh.”
Cyno blinks as Tighnari quickly withdraws his weapon.
“I’m so sorry.”
“My bad for startling you,” Cyno says, polite and unbothered.
Tighnari sighs, ears flattening. “It’s fine.”
Cyno tilts his head. His gaze shifts over to the tumour burrowed into the heart of the Withering Zone a few strides away, and flicks his fingers - a crackle of purple alights as it meets the tumour's decaying energy. His ears twitch as it explodes. A pulse of dim red decay flushes through the area before it dissipates, leaving the forest lush and verdant again.
“...Thank you,” Tighnari says, and exhales. This close, his hormones are heightened along with his senses. His head is spinning from the heat and humidity.
“‘Nari.” Cyno’s voice sounds distant. “I came to find you after receiving your letter. Is there something wrong? The other rangers told me you requested to double your duties fighting Withering Zones this week.”
“No I-” Tighnari's gaze is hooked by Cyno’s handsome features through the hazy heat. The stern lines of his expression is tinged with concern, so subtle you wouldn’t catch it unless you knew him well. His chest twists at the thought of Cyno rushing to Gandharva Ville out of worry. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you. Just - something came up and my schedule had to be rearranged. I still have one more zone left to clear. You don't have to wait - ”
Cyno’s hand cradles his cheek, his touch a cool balm against Tighnari’s burning skin.
“You look unwell,” Cyno murmurs. “Let’s get you back to Gandharva Ville.”
Tighnari's body moves before his brain catches up to him - his hand closes around Cyno’s wrist and he shoves bodily forward, crowding into Cyno’s personal space. His lungs feel short of air.
“Please,” he says tightly. “Don’t touch me.”
Cyno's pale lashes flicker. His gaze slides pointedly to Tighnari’s vice grip around his wrist, but makes no attempt to pull back.
Tighnari releases his fingers with difficulty, one by one.
“You’re ill,” Cyno says, letting his arm fall.
“I'm not,” Tighnari insists.
“Poisoned?”
“No.”
Cyno looks thoughtful. “Are you angry with me?”
“What? No.” Tighnari’s tail swishes as guilt climbs. “Fine, I’ll explain later. Let’s go back first.”
Cyno nods, falling into step with Tighnari, a respectful distance away as they wind their way through Avidya Forest.
“Would hearing a joke make you feel better?” Cyno says, after a moment.
A branch snaps beneath Tighnari’s foot.
“No," he says wryly. "It absolutely would not.”
*
Between their pin-drop silence the air is still and muggy. Outside the hut, afternoon sun beats an overbright path below the leafy eaves. A bead of sweat rolls down Tighnari’s temple.
Across the table, Cyno’s eyes are wide when Tighnari finishes explaining.
“Anyway, I apologise for cancelling dinner so abruptly. I’m sure you can understand why I withheld the details from our correspondence. Now as for rescheduling... ”
“I don’t understand.”
“What?” Tighnari's brows furrow. “Well, obviously I didn’t want to include sensitive information that could compromise either of us in a letter anybody could intercept-”
“Not that,” Cyno says, and gazes out the window. He settles his chin against his palm. “You go into a rut every year, right?”
Tighnari fights through his embarrassment and says, “Yes.”
“I just don’t understand why you never told me before,” Cyno says, tone light and unaccusing.
Tighnari’s stomach twists. “I’m- ” he tries, but the words flee him.
Cyno’s gaze flickers back to him. Without his headdress he always seems a lot less imposing. Right now, with his hair gathered over one shoulder in a loose pony, a few stray strands falling over one eye, Cyno looks a little lost.
“Is it the anatomy?” Cyno says suddenly, and leans forward. Tighnari tilts back. “Regular intercourse is clearly no issue, but maybe your Valuka Shuna heritage manifests during a rut? If physical incompatibility is what’s holding you back, I can get in touch with my old classmate Lisa and inquire if there’s any-”
Tighnari slaps his palm over Cyno’s mouth.
“Please,” he says around a stifled laugh. “Stop speaking.”
Cyno blinks. “S’rry.”
Tighnari pulls his hand back. His skin tingles where it touched Cyno.
“It’s not a physical incompatibility.” He sighs. “And I don’t transform into a literal fox when I go into rut either, you buffoon.”
“Then what is it?” Cyno asks.
Tighnari covers his face with a hand and mumbles.
“Pardon? I didn’t catch that.”
“I said,” Tighnari grits. “I get a little - I mean, a lot -” he clears his throat. “I can get quite feral.”
Cyno's chair creaks. “Ah.”
Tighnari cracks an eye open and sees Cyno with his arms crossed, a contemplative look on his face.
“That makes sense,” he says.
“That's not all. I also get too rough, and possessive, and I bite a lot,” Tighnari continues, doubling down on the mortification. “When I was younger I spent a rut with someone and it didn’t end well.”
“Did you send them to the Bimarstan?” Cyno asks.
“No,” Tighnari snaps. “I’m not an actual animal.” He shakes his head when he realises Cyno is teasing. “He didn’t like how…pushy I was, and how - persistent.”
“Hm.”
“We broke up the day after.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
"I never went into rut with someone else again."
"A shame."
Tighnari slants him a look. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“I am,” Cyno says. He covers Tighnari’s clenched fist with his hand.
“Would you be willing to try again?”
Tighnari wants to withdraw his hand. He also wants to pin Cyno down on the table.
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You know I don’t break that easily.”
Something tenuous inside Tighnari snaps. “That’s what he said too.”
Silence. Tighnari breathes raggedly.
Cyno’s voice is soft but firm.
“I mean it.”
Tighnari slumps. “I can’t risk it.”
“I’ll stop you if you go too far.” Cyno gently pries Tighnari’s fist loose and clasps their fingers together. “I won’t let you do anything you regret.”
“I can be really mean,” Tighnari argues. “And unreasonable.”
Cyno’s lips twitch.
“Noted.”
“You have work.”
“I can take some vacation.”
“It’ll be days.”
“I have five weeks of unused vacation,” Cyno says. “And at least a month’s worth of flex time.”
“A month?” Tighnari balks. “Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought we went over this. You promised to at least take a break after Lesser Lord Kusanali is settled in.”
Cyno’s expression goes opaque, and Tighnari realises his mistake. His tail tenses in his lap.
“I’ll take it now,” Cyno says, and smiles.
Tighnari shakes his head, exasperated and fond all at once. Even though Cyno can be as bull-headed as Tighnari when he puts his mind to it, he won't push it if Tighnari really refuses. But... He looks outside, at the forest swaying in tandem with a breath of wind, at the fragile peace they all fought so hard for. The stale mid-day air lifts, somewhat, and Tighnari’s chest loosens along with it.
“Fine,” he decides, and squeezes Cyno’s hand back.
The Gandha Hill is sparser with foliage, but no less beautiful. Tighnari leads them through its depths, soft grass parting beneath their feet until they reach an out of the way alcove. Abundant shrubs veils the hidden hut in the tree, a small pond nearby ripples as a few lily pads float past, cradling sleepy bulbs at their centres. The air is misty and fragrant, fresh and cool in Cyno's lungs.
“Here we are,” Tighnari says, clipped and short as he has been all day while they packed. He turns and offers Cyno a wan smile, cheeks dusted pink. “Excuse the mess, I never get visitors.”
“It’s fine,” Cyno says. They climb the ladder and duck inside. It's dark with the curtains drawn, squinting, Cyno takes a moment to marvel at the efficient use of space: encased in warm wood, the hut contains only a bed draped with blankets, a simple table and a lamp, and leaves and vines sprouting in every corner, no doubt from the offshoot of Tighnari's vision. Cyno's cheeks heat at the thought of Tighnari spending his ruts here, control fraying, scent heady.
Tighnari flicks a speck of dendro from two fingers, and the lamp lights. A warm glow bathes them.
“Your treehouse is nice,” Cyno says.
Tighnari huffs. “It’s not a treehouse, more like a quarantine cell.”
“It’s comfy,” Cyno says. He sheds his cloak and folds it neatly, setting it on the table. He starts working on his collar next. “How do you want me?”
“Wait, um,” Tighnari pauses. “Just one last time. Are you really sure about this?”
Cyno sets his shirt on top of the pile. Next, he starts untying his belts.
“Yep.”
Tighnari's gaze rakes over him. He looks hungry, yet still insists.
“Just shove me off any time. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings.”
Down to only his underwear, Cyno gives Tighnari an inviting glance as he tugs at the waistband before stepping out of it.
Tighnari remains stubbornly rooted in place.
“Promise me,” he says.
“I promise.”
Tighnari takes one step. Another. He hovers in front of Cyno, eyes fever bright, staring at the column of Cyno's neck. Cyno tilts his head to one side to bare it further.
Tighnari’s voice is a hoarse scrape, “I know you agreed to biting but I really must remind you my teeth are quite sharp and you don’t need to-”
Cyno cuts him off with a kiss.
Like his strings are cut, Tighnari’s fingers immediately find a home in Cyno's hair. He grips it by the fistful and holds Cyno’s head in place, kissing him back, deep and devouring. His tongue slips past Cyno’s parted lips and renders him breathless. Cyno shivers as heat pools in his gut. Gone is Tighnari’s usual gentleness as desire thrums through every line of his body.
Tighnari crowds him until the back of Cyno’s knees hit the bed. He goes easily when Tighnari pushes a palm against his chest, climbing over him as he lies back. He’s still clothed but Cyno is too distracted by Tighnari’s mouth latching onto his neck to complain.
A groan catches in his throat as his neck tingles and stings. Tighnari’s hand dips low, cups his growing erection and pumps it. Cyno’s hips buck but he’s pressed back down. He blinks toward the ceiling plank, dazed with pleasure.
“Undress,” he says. “Please.”
Tighnari growls and releases his neck. His eyes are dark pits, earth and sky swallowed whole. With visible difficulty, Tighnari pulls back and shucks his clothes off swiftly.
Cyno takes this chance to grab the oil from his cloak pocket. Spreads it generously over his fingers and dips past his entrance, already loosened in preparation, and coats his insides liberally. Tighnari warned him he wouldn’t be clear headed enough to take it slow once they begin. Truthfully, Cyno doesn’t really mind a little pain himself, but he doesn't want to upset Tighnari.
“Ready?” Tighnari’s voice ghosts by his ear. Cyno opens his eyes, unsure when they had fallen closed. A light sheen of sweat coats Tighnari's pinked skin, uncurbed desire burns in his gaze, yet he’s still lucid enough to worry.
“Ready.” Cyno pecks his lips. He pulls his fingers free and spreads his legs. Tighnari quickly straddles him, tail wagging as he grips Cyno’s shoulders.
“Stop me anytime,” he says distantly. He lines their bodies and with only a brief pause, pushes his cock inside.
The burn is good. Cyno groans, tensing reflexively before he forces his body to relax, to let Tighnari in. Above him, Tighnari is tensely still. He lets out a whimper and Cyno strokes his flanks soothingly in response.
“You can move.”
At that, Tighnari begins thrusting, erratic at first, then harder, smoother when he finally lets go. Pleasure tightens in Cyno’s stomach. He resists the urge to touch himself, wanting to make it last, instead twisting his hands in the sheets and relishes in the sparks dancing up his spine.
“You, ah, you feel so good,” Tighnari stutters. “Cyno.”
Pleased, Cyno clenches down, and Tighnari keens. His hip shifts and the next thrust is perfectly angled that Cyno lets out a gasp.
“‘N-nari.” His legs thrashes uselessly. Tighnari’s hands are bruising over his pelvis as he halts to a stop.
His voice is wrecked, “Okay?”
Cyno groans, and bucks down to take Tighnari deeper. “Don’t stop.”
Tighnari touches his fisted hand. Cyno loosens his grip and lets Tighnari press their palms next to his head. The grass-soft curve of his hair trails by Cyno’s chin as Tighnari leans over him, eyes glassy but clear.
“Cyno,” he says, like a question.
Cyno nods.
“I trust you.”
Tighnari buries his face in the crook of Cyno’s neck, ears tucked against Cyno’s cheek as he resumes rutting into him. Time slips away like that, hazy and heady. Waves of pleasure crest over Cyno, but he puts it out his mind, holding Tighnari close and carding fingers through his hair as they find shelter in each other’s body, over and over again, until it’s hard to distinguish where they part and begin.
When he surfaces from a swell of tightening pressure, a gasp tears out of his throat as his climax catches him in surprise. He shakes apart underneath Tighnari, having come untouched. The drag of Tighnari’s cock alights his over-sensitive nerves. He trembles helplessly, squeezing Tighnari’s hand for anchor as he gasps for breath, chest heaving. Tighnari’s stomach grazes against his softening cock, and the torrent of sensation is almost too much. He remembers dimly Tighnari asked him to stop him anytime. He shifts, flexing his leg until he finds leverage on the mattress. He can stop him, he thinks; he can easily overpower Tighnari, even like this, but-
In his arms, Tighnari’s features are lax, lips parted, eyes closed, and Cyno's heart swells as he surrenders to the overstimulation. He floats beneath the fog of residual pain-pleasure, drifts until his refractory period passes and he’s no longer twitching at every cut of friction.
“Close,” Tighnari slurs, his movements stuttering.
Cyno smooths a hand down Tighnari’s tail.
“Mm, come inside.”
“Can I?” Tighnari nuzzles against his chest. “I also- want, mm. Please.”
“Sure,” Cyno agrees, unsure what he's asking for but willing all the same.
Tighnari pushes at him with an uncoordinated hand. “Move, please.” He bats at Cyno’s shoulder until Cyno gets the message and turns onto his stomach, wincing as the movement jostles Tighnari’s cock against his prostate. His cock jumps weakly.
“Thanks,” Tighnari murmurs against his nape. His tongue smooths over the thin skin. His hips roll languidly before picking up pace again. Cyno braces his forehead against the mattress, groaning as his cock throbs with renewed interest.
When the point of teeth prick at his nape, and stills, Cyno hums an acquiescing noise in his throat.
“Do it.”
Flash of copper heat, lance of bright pain. His spine tenses for a long second before all of him unfurls at once. Cyno is limp as Tighnari spills hotly inside him, clinging tightly to his back. A drip of warmth slides down his neck. Tighnari’s bite loosens and he licks the blood away.
“I can-” Tighnari trips over his words. “Do you want me to.” His hand reaches beneath Cyno’s stomach, inquiring.
Cyno shifts slightly to let him reach for his cock. Tighnari pumps his fist with a steady grip, and it doesn’t take much before he comes again with a whine.
Wetness gather at the corner of his eyes. A whimper falls from his lips as he shifts in Tighnari's grip.
“Sorry, sorry.” Tighnari licks apologetically at the wound on the back of his neck. “‘M sorry.”
“Please,” Cyno says shakily. “Your hand.”
“Oh, of course.” Tighnari hurriedly lets go, and shifts them so Cyno is on his back. “Did I hurt you? God, I can’t pull out just yet but-”
“It’s fine,” Cyno murmurs. “C’mere.” He opens his arms and Tighnari settles against him, gingerly avoiding touching Cyno's cock. “Mm. Better.”
“Is the knot too tight?”
“S’okay.”
“Any pain?”
“I'm fine. Just a little sensitive.”
“It’ll go down in twenty minutes or so.”
Cyno hums muzzily. “Okay.”
Tighnari’s tail caresses his side affectionately. Cyno buries his fingers in the fur - it’s fluffy and warm. A purr rumbles from Tighnari's chest.
“I’ll clean us up. Rest now.” Tighnari’s voice is cotton-soft.
“Mm.”
Cyno's breath evens out, and he drops into a dreamless sleep.
*
That evening, they wash up in the river nearby and share the mushroom hodgepodge Tighnari had packed on the lawn in front of the treehouse.
Across the pond's shimmering surface, the nilotpalas drift slowly, steadily, in waiting.
Tighnari is quiet as he watches them. His hair flutters in the soft breeze. The mushroom in his hand remains unfinished.
Cyno senses something in the air and decides to shelf his jokes for another time.
"How are you feeling?" he asks instead.
"Good," Tighnari says. He turns to Cyno. "How about you?"
"Good," Cyno says.
"Are you sore?"
Cyno shakes his head. "Nothing I can't handle."
"I'll probably be fine after another day," Tighnari says, apologetic. "Our ruts always end faster if we can spend it with a partner."
"Don't worry about it," Cyno says. "Hey, you'll be able to make it those guest lectures after all."
"Yes." Tighnari pauses, Cyno can sense there's something else he wants to say.
"I'm ready to go another round if you want," Cyno offers.
Tighnari smiles. "Thank you, but I'm fine for tonight."
The wind picks up, and stirs gently across the hills. Gold spills over like honey. The nilotpalas tremble in the breeze, then, and unfurls their shy blue hearts, breathing to life under the pale moonlight.
Tighnari's voice is quiet. “Did you know Valuka Shunas mated for life?”
Cyno tucks a few stray strands behind his ear.
“Yes.”
Tighnari turns to him, expression soft, smudged like watercolour. He looks iridescent like the forest itself.
"Cyno," he says.
Cyno gestures to the back of his neck.
“I hope it scars.”
“I-” Tighnari blinks, every tender emotion readable on his beautiful face. His lips part and close, but no words come out. Then, he’s kissing Cyno, and there’s no more need for words at all.
The vestigial night recedes in increments, shade by shade as the rising sun gilds Sumeru City in an emerald glow. It’s far too early still, yet a few keen students are already milling their way toward the Akademiya. Sometimes Kaveh misses those days. Post graduation his friends have all become too busy with their own lives and work to see each other regularly anymore - which reminds him, maybe he should call up the old gang to meet for TCG night again…
Kaveh strides toward the entrance of the Akademiya, running through pub options in his head before a familiar figure catches his eye.
“Oh hey, Cyno!”
Cyno turns. He’s in his dark cloak today, how unusual.
“Kaveh,” he greets. “You’re out early.”
“Yeah, not my best hour,” Kaveh admits with a laugh. “I’m here at the crack of dawn for an appointment with Lord Kusanali today.”
“Oh, is this about the Aaru Village revitalisation project?”
“You know it.”
Cyno nods, and something feels off about him today. Different - at ease, maybe.
“Why were you at the Akademiya so early?” Kaveh asks, examining Cyno more carefully.
“I work here,” Cyno says, and pauses. “I was also seeing Tighnari off.”
“Oh, right. His guest lectures are today,” Kaveh chuckles. “Hah, you’re as doting as ever.”
Cyno’s stare remains as stony but Kaveh catches the slight darkening of his cheeks.
“I’ll be leaving now,” Cyno says.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” Kaveh chuckles. “But good timing. I was going to ask if you and Tighnari are free to hang out tonight. Haitham will be available as well, knowing him.”
Cyno tugs at the collar of his cloak, as if too warm, and Kaveh’s gaze snags. “Sure. I can ask Tighnari later but I think we should be free.”
“Huh.” Kaveh pauses. “I mean - great,” he says. “Well, see you later tonight then!”
Cyno nods curtly. He gives Kaveh a half smile and strides off. Kaveh watches him go, gaze lingering on the fabric wrapped around the slender column of his neck. Cute choker, he wants to call after him, but holds the words behind his teeth. The plaza is growing busy with students and the General Mahamatra still has a reputation to keep.
Besides, Kaveh thinks with a smile, if he teases Cyno too much he might just stop wearing it, and that would be a real shame.
He'll bring it up tonight instead. Along with the hickey.