Work Text:
Oh did Scaramouche hate the position he was in.
Well that wasn't entirely true, he had to begrudgingly admit. He loved his job, excelled in his career choice of being a nurse.
What he hated was when he had to take care of idiots. And there were a lot of idiots. And they loved to try his patience.
There was the dumbass who came in having stuck a lightbulb inside himself. Scaramouche had to cover his mouth to smother the laugh that threatened to bubble up at that.
Then there were those two men who just would not shut up and were causing a scene in the lobby. They had been yelling about taking it outside but never actually did, until security came to escort one of them out while the other was seen to... what had turned out to be nothing, as he had apparently taken copius amounts of THC into his system and convince himself he was dying. His companion had apparently been trying to tell him he was fine when they started their shouting match.
And don't even get him started on that one freak.
All in all, a relatively normal shift, Scaramouche supposed he should have considered himself lucky that things rarely actually happened in the Snezhnayan town. But instead he was pissed off because the last patient had pushed him into overtime. And Scaramouche absolutely loathed overtime.
He couldn't hide his anger anymore, any time he was out of earshot of a patient Scaramouche would ball his hands into fists and curse everything he could in Inazuman. He cursed his work, he cursed society, he cursed the coffee that burned his tongue when he drank it.
Above all, he cursed himself for not being able to last longer before shutting down. Rationally, he knew it wasn't his fault - a change of plans, no matter how minor, always set him off. And when set off he would find himself lashing out, find himself unable to keep a friendly mask for more than a few brief moments. The lights were too bright, the beeping of machines drove him wild, and the chatter of people brought him hell.
It was too bright, there was too much noise, and god fucking dammit he could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket. Good thing he was in the break room getting more coffee. Scaramouche didn't think to check the caller id before he answered, and he bit out a snappy, "What the fuck do you want?"
"Awwe don't be like that shortcake, can't I just give my favorite person a phone call?" Immediately it was like a switch had been flicked, and Scaramouche could feel his anger crumbling from that sunshine voice, from Ajax calling him by that overly sweet nickname. He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes, the desire to be vulnerable bubbling up.
But he was at work, so he strangled that part of him and wiped his tears from his eyes. But he couldn't stop the slightly choked sound in his voice when he spoke. "... I'm sorry honeybun. It's just been a long day." He could almost feel Ajax's concern radiating from the other end.
"Wait so you're still at work? I thought you were heading home. You need to stop pushing yourself too much. You can't always just say yes when they ask you to do something last minute. Take care of yourself."
"Take care of yourself, says the man who gets into a fight with anyone who looks at him funny." He winced at his own words. Was he too harsh? Probably, he had a dreadful habit of that. "Fuck, I'll be home soon. It's been too long and I need-" he was interrupted by a laugh from the other end. "I know just what you need shortcake, and I already have everything set up so you better stick to your word and hurry up. I love you."
"I love you too," was what was spoken. I miss you, I want to kiss you, I need your touch, I just want to bury myself in the silent comfort of you and shut out the cacophony around me, was what went unsaid. Scaramouche was never all that good at expressing himself. But somehow Ajax understood him anyways. There was the sound of Ajax making a kissing noise into the receiver, then a click as he hung up - leaving Scaramouche without the grounding of his voice, he was once again lost in the sea of overwhelming sensation.
It was another two hours before he was given the okay to leave, as every time he tried some fool would hold him back for more work. He loved his job, he really did. It was just too much at the moment.
Maybe having another cup of coffee was a bad idea. All it had done was set his nerves on fire, made him even more short-tempered. He couldn't even keep up the sickly sweet facade, he felt like he was half-dead and probably looked about the same with the bags under his eyes and the dull look he wore. He had hid in a bathroom at one point, running the water as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. The water drowned out everything else, and gave him a brief reprieve from the whirlwind beyond the door. He just stared at himself in that moment and trembled, trying to keep his breathing in check.
But thankfully, bless the fucking gods he was free, and on the way home. Ajax had spammed his phone with encouraging messages and also the dumbest memes but gods did Scaramouche treat every single message as a gift. He reveled in any attention he got from his boyfriend, even if he struggled to admit it.
The drive home was silent. It was late, so he didn't have to deal with the bullshit of rush hour, and he even made sure to take the back roads to avoid the need to be aware of others around him. It left him alone with his thoughts.
Sometimes he had to wonder. What did Ajax even see in him? He still didn't get why the carrot-top had gotten himself hurt on a weekly basis just for a chance to talk to Scaramouche. He didn't understand why he would beg for a date, his number, anything. But eventually he had caved, and found out that he had it bad. Real bad.
The first time Scaramouche had given Ajax a genuine smile he thought he broke the poor man, as he had stared at him in wide-eyed silence. He hadn't been prepared for the words that had tumbled from Ajax's mouth. "You're breathtaking. I want to see you smile like that all the time."
He pulled himself from his reverie as he stopped in the driveway of their tiny house, a tiny smile gracing his lips - a combination of pleasant memories and the fact that the living room light was on, which meant that Ajax stayed up and waited for him. He got out, and before he could even unlock the door to go in it was yanked open and suddenly he was lifted up into the arms of his boyfriend, who tugged him close and carried him inside. And immediately Scaramouche felt relief.
He buried his face into the crook of his shoulder and breathed deep, enveloping himself in Ajax's soothing presence. He heard a low chuckle near his ear as he went practically limp in the other man's arms. "Missed me shortcake?" Ajax lightly teased, getting only a soft mmm in response as Scaramouche nuzzled his neck, planting soft kisses that traveled up to his freckled cheeks. He pulled back just a moment to gaze into those ocean eyes before he surged forward again to press their lips together, filled with longing and desperation. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was all Scaramouche needed to release the day's tension and immerse himself into vulnerability.
"Yeah, I missed you," he whispered, his voice hoarse. He didn't miss the way those lovely blue eyes softened, and the dazzling smile he got in return was more beautiful than all the constellations in Teyvat.
Scaramouche made a soft noise in his throat as he felt Ajax's fingers run through his hair, moving his head to chase the sensation. He barely registered Ajax carrying him to the couch, or him sitting down with Scaramouche in his lap, or the blanket he threw over them both. All he cared about in that moment were the soft touches, the feather-light kisses on his face as Ajax gave him exactly what he needed.
Scaramouche made a grunt of complaint when the soothing touches stopped, lifting his head up to give Ajax a half-hearted glare that melted when the man smiled down at him with such care in his gaze. "How about we watch a movie? If you think you can let go for a moment or two I made food earlier." Scaramouche tightened his grip and shook his head. "Don't move." Don't go. I've been away from you too long already today. Stay stay stay. He was rewarded with another soft laugh. "Alright alright, I won't get up," he conceded, "But you will need to eat before you go to bed, okay?"
Scaramouche nodded, and he shifted so he could see the TV as Ajax reached over and grabbed the remote, flicking it on. In that moment there was nothing in the world but the two of them.
Scaramouche lived for these moments of bliss.