Work Text:
The first thing Cyno noticed was the sound.
Soft footsteps moved somewhere nearby, accompanied by the quiet rustle of fabric and the gentle slide of a drawer being opened and shut. He frowned into the pillow, still half-asleep, trying to make sense of it. The air smelled faintly of herbs and warm earth, not dust or parchment or the sterile stillness he was used to waking up to.
Birds chirped somewhere beyond an open window, and a thin stripe of sunlight warmed his cheek.
…That wasn’t right.
Cyno’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself upright too fast, heart stuttering as his gaze swept over unfamiliar ceiling beams, hanging bundles of dried plants, and cluttered shelves crammed with books, jars, and half-finished research notes.
“This isn’t—” he muttered, breath catching. Panic flickered through him before he could stop it. This wasn’t the desert, and it definitely wasn’t the Akademiya. Had he seriously slept in someone else’s house?
“Happy birthday, Cyno!”
He jerked so hard he nearly fell back onto the mattress. Tighnari popped into view from behind a shelf, tail swaying lazily, a smile already tugging at his lips like he’d been waiting for that exact reaction.
“Nari?” Cyno blinked at him, still disoriented. “Why am I at your hut?”
Tighnari tilted his head. “You don’t remember yesterday?”
Cyno searched his own thoughts and came up with nothing but static past the point where answers should’ve been. Slowly, he shook his head. “I remember patrol. And then… nothing.”
Tighnari sighed, but it was fond rather than worried. “You got hit with mushroom spores during patrol. Not a dangerous amount—just enough to mess with your short-term memory. You showed up here instead of your place, half-delirious and insisting you were late for a meeting that didn’t exist.”
Cyno winced. “That’s… deeply unfortunate.”
“I cleaned you up and put you to bed,” Tighnari added more gently. “You passed out before you even finished apologizing.”
Cyno let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you. For taking care of me.”
He reached out and patted Tighnari between the ears without thinking. Tighnari leaned into it automatically, tail flicking once, then again.
“Anything for my—” Tighnari stopped himself, ears twitching back. “I mean. Anything for you.”
Cyno raised an eyebrow, amused rather than confused. “It’s fine, Nari.”
He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Tighnari’s forehead, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
“I love you too.”
Tighnari froze for half a heartbeat, then his ears flicked back properly and his tail picked up speed. “Happy birthday,” he said quietly, warmth softening his voice.
“…I forgot it was my birthday,” Cyno admitted.
“Obviously.”
Cyno chuckled under his breath, tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
“Oh—right.” Tighnari rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a deck of TCG cards, holding them out like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment. “Your gift.”
Cyno accepted them like they were something fragile and priceless. His eyes actually lit up.
“You’re kidding.”
“I am not.”
“These are the new set,” Cyno breathed. “Nari, you’re incredible.”
He smiled — really smiled, wide and unguarded in a way he rarely let anyone see. Tighnari’s ears warmed at the sight.
“So,” Tighnari said, clearing his throat, “what do you want to do today?”
Cyno hesitated, then glanced up at him. “Could you stay in your fox form today?”
“…My full fox form?”
“It’s cute,” Cyno said simply, shrugging like it was obvious.
Tighnari rubbed the back of one ear. “You know I get territorial.”
“I can handle you.”
“And clingy.”
“I like clingy.”
There was a long pause where Tighnari just studied him, tail slowly swaying.
“…Fine,” he sighed. “But you’re not allowed to work today. No commissions, no paperwork, no ‘just one patrol.’”
“Deal,” Cyno agreed instantly.
The bathroom door clicked shut.
Cyno waited on the bed, absently shuffling his new cards while muffled movement echoed from the other room. He heard fabric rustle, something thump against the counter, and then—
A high-pitched bark cut through the quiet.
He stood and peered into the bathroom.
A small green fox sat on the floor, tail flicking back and forth, wearing a tiny forest ranger uniform that looked far more well-fitted than it had any right to be.
Cyno froze.
“…Tighnari?”
The fox wagged its tail.
Then launched itself at him.
“Wha—!”
Cyno yelped as he went down hard on his back, the air knocking out of him in a startled laugh. Something warm and wet smeared across his face.
“Nari—stop—” he managed between laughs, trying and failing to shield himself as Tighnari enthusiastically licked his cheeks, his nose, his chin, like he’d been starved of affection for days instead of ten seconds. “I love you, but I do not want to be marinated in fox drool.”
Tighnari finally backed off, ears drooping apologetically as he sat on Cyno’s chest.
“I’ll hold you,” Cyno said, sitting up and gently scooping him into his lap. “Just—less face.”
Tighnari huffed, but curled against him anyway, tail wrapping loosely around Cyno’s wrist.
“You weren’t kidding about clingy,” Cyno murmured fondly, resting his chin against Tighnari’s head.
No matter what Cyno did, Tighnari refused to leave his side.
He followed him into every room. Sat outside the bathroom door crying when Cyno tried to change. Planted himself on Cyno’s lap the second he sat down and glared at the door like it was personally offensive.
When Cyno finally emerged in his usual attire, Tighnari barked approvingly and immediately glued himself to his heel.
“Happy now?” Cyno asked.
Tighnari wagged.
They hadn’t made it far outside when Collei spotted them.
“General Mahamatra!”
Cyno waved. “Hi, Collei. How’ve you been?”
“Pretty great! Ever since my Eleazar was removed, I’ve had so much more energy.” She beamed. “Where’s Master Tighnari?”
Cyno stepped aside.
Tighnari barked.
Collei gasped. “Oh my Archons, he’s adorable! I heard he could do that but I’ve never seen it in real life!”
She crouched and reached out. Tighnari immediately rolled onto his back.
“Traitor,” Cyno muttered.
Collei squealed as she rubbed his stomach. “I’m in love.”
Tighnari licked her hand.
She carefully picked him up, and he snuggled into her arms like a baby, tail flicking lazily.
Cyno sighed. “I promised Kaveh I’d visit him and Alhaitham today.”
“Oh—okay. See you later!” Collei smiled.
Tighnari barked, then wriggled out of her arms and trotted back to Cyno’s side, brushing his jade tail against Cyno’s leg like he was checking he was still there.
They continued walking toward Kaveh’s place, Tighnari taking the lead but never straying more than a few steps ahead, brushing against Cyno every so often like he was counting him. It didn’t take long before they reached the door.
Cyno knocked.
Kaveh opened it with a grin. “Come in, come in.”
“Oh—uh, I asked Tighnari to stay in fox form today,” Cyno said, gesturing down.
“That’s fine,” Kaveh nodded easily.
They stepped inside.
Alhaitham looked up from his book. “Happy birthday, Cyno.”
He even put the book down to shake his hand.
Tighnari growled.
Low. Warning.
Cyno’s shoulders tensed.
Cyno hesitated for half a second at the sound of Tighnari’s growl, instinctively reaching down to rest a hand on his back. “Easy,” he murmured under his breath.
Kaveh blinked, startled, then let out a nervous laugh. “Wow, okay. I forgot how intense he gets in that form.”
Alhaitham studied Tighnari for a moment longer than strictly polite, his sharp gaze flicking between the fox and Cyno’s hand. “He’s already decided this is his territory,” he observed calmly. “You might want to keep physical contact to a minimum.”
Tighnari’s tail lashed once.
“He’s fine,” Cyno said automatically, though he tightened his fingers slightly in Tighnari’s fur. “He’s just… enthusiastic.”
“That is not the word I would use,” Kaveh muttered, but he smiled anyway and gestured them further inside. “Come on, you two. We were just making tea.”
They moved into the kitchen, and Tighnari padded along at Cyno’s heel, brushing against his leg with every other step. Cyno barely noticed it anymore; it had become background noise, like breathing.
Kaveh set the kettle on the stove and rummaged through the cupboard. “So. Birthday boy. Any dramatic plans for the day?”
“Strictly no work,” Cyno said. “Under threat of fox-based violence.”
Tighnari huffed in what might have been agreement.
Alhaitham leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “That sounds medically advisable.”
Kaveh snorted. “He actually followed that rule?”
“I value my life.”
Tighnari circled Cyno’s legs and then plopped down directly on his feet like a furry landmine.
Cyno sighed fondly. “You’re not subtle, you know.”
Tighnari’s ears flicked. He did not move.
Kaveh crouched down a few feet away, careful not to get too close. “Can I pet him, or will I lose a finger?”
Tighnari bared his teeth in what was technically a grin but absolutely did not read like one.
“…I’m going to assume that’s a no,” Kaveh said.
Alhaitham raised an eyebrow. “Prudent.”
The kettle clicked off. Kaveh poured water into three cups, hands moving automatically. “So, uh. How bad were the spores yesterday?”
Cyno shrugged. “Woke up in Nari’s bed with no memory of how I got there. So. Not great.”
“That explains why he showed up at your door looking like a haunted raccoon,” Alhaitham said mildly.
Cyno winced. “Did I really look that bad?”
“You asked if our couch was a mirage,” Kaveh added. “Twice.”
“…That checks out.”
Kaveh set a cup down in front of Cyno, then hesitated, glancing at Tighnari. “Is he… okay with me being this close?”
Tighnari growled low in his throat.
Cyno shifted his stance, placing himself a little more squarely between them. “He’s just being protective. It’ll pass.”
Alhaitham’s gaze sharpened slightly. “It might not, if he’s already this keyed up.”
“I’ve got it,” Cyno said, quieter now.
Kaveh laughed awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, wow, I feel like I accidentally walked into a very domestic, very dangerous situation.”
Tighnari stood.
That alone made Cyno tense.
The fox took two slow steps toward Kaveh, tail stiff, eyes narrowed into thin slits.
“Nari,” Cyno warned gently. “That’s enough.”
Kaveh raised both hands. “Hey, hey. I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend. I already have one extremely emotionally unavailable man at home.”
Alhaitham snorted despite himself.
Tighnari paused, ears twitching, but his gaze stayed locked on Kaveh.
Kaveh, bless him, misread the hesitation as permission and stepped closer to Cyno with a soft smile. “Hey, happy birthday, by the way. I meant to say that earlier.”
He leaned in and wrapped his arms around Cyno in a quick, familiar hug.
Everything happened at once.
Tighnari snarled.
Cyno barely had time to process the flash of green fur before a sharp, crushing pain tore into his arm.
He gasped, body jolting on instinct. “Nari—!”
Kaveh stumbled back with a shout, face draining of color. “Oh Archons—!”
Cyno stepped forward without thinking, shoving his arm fully between Tighnari and Kaveh, bracing himself for a second strike that never came.
Instead, Tighnari’s teeth sank deeper.
A sharp, involuntary sound tore out of Cyno’s throat. The pain wasn’t blinding, but it was wrong in a way he wasn’t used to — too precise, too deep, like his nerves were being played like strings.
“Stop,” Cyno breathed, even as his vision swam. “Nari, stop—”
Tighnari growled, shaking his head violently, his jaws tightening rather than loosening.
Blood spilled down Cyno’s sleeve.
“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry,” Kaveh whispered, frozen in place. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” Cyno said, voice strained but steady. “I’ve got it.”
Alhaitham moved instantly. “Bathroom. Now.”
Cyno nodded and turned on unsteady legs, Tighnari still locked onto his arm.
Each step left a dark smear on the floor.
Alhaitham let them in and shut the bathroom door quietly behind him so they would be alone inside.
The sound felt too loud in the small space.
Cyno sagged against the sink, bracing himself with his good hand as his breath came out shaky and uneven. Blood dripped steadily from his sleeve, pooling on the tile floor in slow, awful drops. Tighnari was still attached to his arm, teeth buried deep, his low growl vibrating against Cyno’s bones.
“Nari,” Cyno said softly, forcing his voice to stay steady despite the pain rippling up his nerves. “Hey. It’s just me.”
Tighnari shook his head once, a warning, jaws tightening reflexively instead of loosening.
Cyno hissed, knees nearly buckling. He clenched his jaw and reached down with his free hand, resting it carefully between Tighnari’s ears.
“Look at me,” he murmured. “You’re not in danger. I promise. Nobody’s taking anything from you.”
The fox let out a strained, broken sound that was halfway between a growl and a whine.
Cyno slid down until he was sitting on the bathroom floor, back against the cabinet, deliberately lowering himself to Tighnari’s eye level. The movement made fresh pain flare white-hot, but he didn’t pull away.
“Nari, please,” he whispered. “You’re hurting me.”
For a long moment, nothing changed.
Then, slowly — trembling — Tighnari’s ears flicked.
His jaw loosened by a fraction.
Cyno exhaled shakily and kept his voice gentle, grounding, the way he did when talking someone down from a panic spiral. “That’s it. You’re okay. I’m right here. You don’t have to protect me from my friends.”
Tighnari’s eyes, still narrowed into dangerous slits, flicked to Cyno’s face.
Recognition crept in.
The growl faltered.
With a soft, broken whine, Tighnari finally let go.
Cyno bit back a sound as the sudden release made the pain spike sharply. Blood welled immediately, dark and thick.
Tighnari stumbled back like he’d been struck, ears flattening, tail tucking hard between his legs as he stared at his own blood-soaked paws.
He looked terrified.
“Nari,” Cyno breathed, even as his vision swam. He forced himself upright just enough to reach out with his uninjured hand. “Hey. It’s okay. Come here.”
Tighnari shook his head violently, backing away until he hit the wall. A small, panicked whine escaped his throat.
“No,” Cyno said gently. “Look at me. You didn’t mean to. You were scared, that’s all.”
Tighnari’s chest hitched.
Cyno’s arm throbbed in time with his pulse, pain radiating deep into the bone now, but he kept his voice soft and steady. “It’s not your fault. I asked you to do this today, remember?”
Tighnari glanced down at his blood-covered paws and whimpered again, curling in on himself.
“Come here,” Cyno said quietly, holding his hand out. “You’re my little fox. I’m not mad at you.”
There was a long, agonizing pause.
Then, slowly, Tighnari padded back toward him, movements small and hesitant. He pressed his head against Cyno’s knee, trembling, and began licking frantically at Cyno’s wounded arm, trying to clean the blood.
“Nari, that tickles,” Cyno huffed weakly despite himself.
Tighnari froze mid-lick, ears twitching. He sniffed the air once, twice, then suddenly perked up and scurried toward a drawer beneath the sink, clawing at it insistently.
Cyno blinked. “…What are you doing?”
He leaned over and pulled the drawer open.
Inside sat a compact first aid kit.
“Oh,” Cyno breathed. “Good thinking.”
Tighnari watched intently as Cyno fumbled it open with one hand, wincing when he poured rubbing alcohol over the wound. The sting made him suck in a sharp breath, knuckles whitening as he braced himself against the cabinet.
“Okay. Okay,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. “We’re good. We’re good.”
It took longer than usual with only one functional hand, but eventually he managed to clean the wound properly and wrap it in gauze and bandages. By the time he finished, he was sweating lightly and his arm felt like it had been set on fire.
“There,” he said quietly, sagging back against the cabinet. “All patched up.”
Tighnari crept closer, eyes still wide with guilt, and licked Cyno’s cheek apologetically.
Cyno let out a tired laugh and leaned his forehead against Tighnari’s. “You owe me so much TCG luck for this.”
Tighnari let out a small, miserable huff.
They didn’t stay long after that.
Cyno opened the bathroom door and let Tighnari step out first.
Kaveh was still standing in the kitchen, pale and wringing his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he blurted immediately. “I should’ve asked before hugging you, I didn’t think—”
“It’s okay,” Cyno said firmly, forcing a reassuring smile. “Really. I promise.”
Alhaitham’s gaze flicked to Cyno’s bandaged arm, then to Tighnari, who was glued to Cyno’s side again like he might vanish. “You should go home,” he said gently. “He needs to decompress.”
Cyno nodded. “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”
“Dinner later?” Kaveh asked hopefully.
“Dinner later,” Cyno agreed.
They stepped back outside.
Once they were back at Tighnari’s hut, Tighnari disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later in his human form, ears drooping, tail hanging low.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Cyno carefully, like he was afraid to touch him too hard.
Cyno hugged him back one-armed. “It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” He paused, then smirked faintly. “Consider it payback for the time I painted a poisonous mushroom to look like a starshroom.”
“My nose was blocked that day. You're lucky that I know how to cure myself,” Tighnari muttered.
Cyno’s eyes lit up. “What kind of vehicle does a mushroom drive?”
“No,” Tighnari warned.
“A spores car.”
Tighnari smacked him with his tail.
The rest of the day passed quietly and easily.
They napped. Cyno taught Tighnari how to play with his new TCG deck. They went back to Kaveh and Alhaitham’s place for dinner, this time with Tighnari firmly in his human form and only mildly glaring when Kaveh sat too close to Cyno.
By the time the sky began to darken, Cyno felt more relaxed than he had in weeks.
“Best birthday ever,” he murmured as they walked hand in hand back to Tighnari’s hut.
Tighnari snorted. “I am never living this down.”
Cyno grinned. “What did the wave say to the beach?”
“Shut up, Cyno.”
“Nothing,” Cyno said smugly. “It just waved.”
Tighnari groaned. “I should’ve bitten you harder.”