Tiny Bee~k 2023 Day 2 - On the dot
Alhaitham is late.
Usually three minutes are not something Cyno would be concerned with but this is different. It’s three minutes after Alhaitham clocks out and if he’s late then that can only spell trouble.
Cyno knows that Alhaitham is very punctual when it concerns clocking out of work; he seems to have an innate feeling for when it’s enough and he’s always right. On the dot, he gets up and declares the work day done, no matter who is talking or what documents are still on his table.
It’s now five minutes after the appointed time and there is still no sight of Alhaitham, even when Cyno rounds a corner to look for him.
That must mean something is wrong.
Alhaitham is not one to come late to their meeting—especially not given how busy they normally are—and if he knew beforehand that he would be late then he would have found a way to inform Cyno, either by message or by messenger.
Cyno’s mind starts to whir. If Alhaitham is late because of something that happened at the office, then it has the potential to upturn their hard-won peace and Cyno should definitely be present for it. If Alhaitham is late because someone had the glorious idea to kidnap him, then they were incredibly stupid and Cyno will definitely be there to bring justice to them. If Alhaitham is late because he somehow overworked himself or otherwise fell sick and didn’t take a day off, then there will be words to be had and Cyno will yell most of them at him.
But for any of these options to be proven true, he needs to find Alhaitham first. Thankfully it’s Cyno’s job to find people and even though he’s more worried than anything at the moment, his matra training pays off.
His mind whirrs, sifting through all the possibilities, and he’s keenly aware of the fact that every lost minute could make the difference should they be faced with an abduction.
So Cyno makes his way to Alhaitham’s office; he makes sure to keep his steps just as hurried as they normally are because it wouldn’t do to tip anyone off that something might be wrong.
He doesn’t need a scene and he doesn’t need reinforcements until he knows exactly what he’s dealing with.
Luckily for Cyno, Alhaitham is a creature of habit and while it’s usually a source of some gentle teasing for Cyno, right now he’s incredibly glad for it, because it means that he can be certain that if Alhaitham was on the way to meet him, he would run into him.
But there is no sight of Alhaitham anywhere and by the time his office comes into view Cyno has to hold back from running.
Still, he stops in front of the door, noticing that it’s slightly ajar, and he holds his breath as he listens. He can make out the sound of shuffling paper but apart from that Cyno isn’t able to get any hints.
There could of course be an intruder in Alhaitham’s office, trying to find—or hide—some documents but to be certain would mean to step into the office.
And so that is exactly what Cyno does. He doesn’t brandish his spear immediately, but he can feel the crackling of electro at the tips of his fingers.
It only fizzles out when he comes face to face with the person in the office.
“Alhaitham?” he asks, his voice incredulous, because Alhaitham is still seated behind the desk, pen and paper in hand and it doesn’t look at all as if he’s aware that his working hours are over.
He must be sick, then.
“Cyno,” Alhaitham greets him before his eyes dart away to the clock. “I didn’t realise it was that late already, I apologise.”
“Alhaitham, are you sick?” Cyno asks, rounding the desk to put a hand to Alhaitham’s forehead to check his temperature.
Alhaitham blinks at him, clearly confused by Cyno’s question and that makes Cyno even more convinced that he must be ill with something.
“What are you talking about, I’m perfectly alright,” Alhaitham finally says, raising his own hand to pull Cyno’s away from his forehead before he pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “What has gotten into you?”
“You’re late,” is all Cyno says, because it’s explanation enough and the grimace on Alhaitham’s face tells him that he knows it as well.
“I apologise,” he repeats, but he offers no explanation at all and that is suspicious in a very different way.
Cyno has convinced himself that Alhaitham is not burning up and his other actions don’t seem to be impacted by a sickness either, so it’s time for another path.
“What are you working on?” Cyno asks, craning his head a little bit to see the paper Alhaitham still has in his hand, but before he can catch whatever is written on it, Alhaitham has put it down on the desk, face-down.
Suspicious, indeed.
“It’s nothing,” Alhaitham says and then immediately amends his own statement, clearly knowing that it’s not enough to satisfy Cyno. “It’s nothing that should have kept me away from you for so long.”
Cyno knows that he should always anticipate it—Alhaitham is from Haravatat after all—but it always leaves him a little bit flustered when he states it so clearly.
“Don’t be ridiculous. If it’s something that needs to be done, then let me help, maybe you’ll get it off your desk quicker that way.”
Cyno starts to reach out for the paper, but Alhaitham intercepts him, threading their fingers together.
“There really is no need for it. I’ll review it tomorrow. I simply lost a bit of time, focusing on it, that’s all. We can leave now. Our dinner reservation will still hold, right?”
“I doubt that Lambad gave our table away just because we’re ten minutes late. It’s Thursday after all.”
They always have dinner together on Thursday.
“Then let’s leave,” Alhaitham decides, getting up and walking around the table, trusting Cyno to follow him.
He clearly didn’t count on Cyno twisting around to grab the sheet of paper from the table.
It’s a report for the matra and Cyno turns betrayed eyes towards Alhaitham.
“Is my work not good enough? Do you have to sort through these beforehand so we don’t mess up?”
Cyno isn’t sure how that makes him feel—though the hurt is there, under everything else—and he wants to give Alhaitham a chance to explain.
“It’s not that,” Alhaitham says with a sigh and tugs Cyno close.
Cyno goes, but not quite as willingly as he normally does.
“Then what is it?” he demands to know and shakes the report into Alhaitham’s face. “Because this report hasn’t been to the matra office yet. Are you hiding something?”
Even as he says it, Cyno scans the paper, paying a bit more attention to what it actually says than before. Nothing that is written down would indicate an entanglement with Alhaitham and it only leaves Cyno more confused.
“This is standard matra stuff. Why does it have to cross the desk of the Acting Grand Sage before it makes its way to us?” Cyno asks. “Has—our work not been up to par, lately?” he then asks, wondering if he has been slacking off.
Sure, he spends his free time with Alhaitham, mostly, these days, but he’s reasonably sure that it has no impact on his work. He pursues offenders just as ruthlessly as before and his matra have not mentioned anything to him either.
“Cyno, stop. I can see you overthinking this,” Alhaitham sighs out, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, clearly unwilling to unhand Cyno.
“Then explain it to me,” Cyno says, shaking the paper in his face. “What is this doing here?”
“I have been screening all the reports for the matra, lately,” Alhaitham explains as he takes the paper out of Cyno’s hand to put it back on the desk.
“Why?”
Cyno doesn’t like how that hurt feeling is making its way up, making his skin itch with betrayal. If Alhaitham thought he wasn’t doing a good job then he should have said so!
“You’re too stressed,” Alhaitham finally says, leaning against the table and pulling Cyno between his legs. “You’re too stressed, because you’re taking too many tasks on yourself and you’re away too much.” Alhaitham’s gaze darts to the side for a moment. “I don’t like it.”
That brings Cyno up short.
“You don’t—like it,” he repeats, and now his rational thinking comes back online. “I haven’t been on that many day-long assignments lately.”
It’s not a question, but Alhaitham still nods.
“You take them on, even if they don’t require the expertise of the General Mahamatra. Your matra’s never get any experience like that.”
“And you don’t like me being away from you,” Cyno whispers, trying the words out and he’s delighted to see a faint blush on Alhaitham’s cheeks.
“It’s too frequent and not necessary. I have been scanning the reports for their urgency and difficulty and I sort them accordingly before I hand them off to Aarav.”
At that, Cyno sighs.
“He is in on it.”
“I have to make sure my judgement is correct. And he is very capable.”
Cyno can’t even deny that, because otherwise Aarav wouldn’t be his second in command but it still stings that he was going behind his back.
“Wait,” Cyno says, another thought forming in his head. “You hate working over-time. Even just a few minutes.”
“I like having you around more,” Alhaitham easily says and now it’s Cyno’s time to be embarrassed. “I can stand five more minutes of work if it means you’re going to come home with me for an entire evening.”
“You are so—unfeeling, my ass,” Cyno mutters under his breath but he can’t hold back the small smile playing around his mouth and when Alhaitham pulls him in for a kiss he certainly doesn’t resist.
“Just tell me something like this,” Cyno mumbles when they part. “I was worried. I thought someone abducted you from right under my nose.”
“Even if that were the case, I have full faith in my General Mahamatra,” Alhaitham easily gives back, and just like always when he uses that title in that specific way it leaves Cyno a little bit breathless.
“I shall overlook this then,” he decides, leaning in for another kiss. “This once.”
“How generous of you.”
(They do make it to Lambad’s tavern, but it is much later than their usual time.)
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