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Kazuha should've known Beidou and Ningguang were up to no good. He should have.

Instead, his competitiveness ran away with him. Of course it did, given he'd heard his name and "too scared" in the same sentence. The bet looked too easy, really – so he figured he had no reasons to put his fallen clan's name to shame by avoiding the bet.

As it turned out, living a whole week without a phone really was easy – but when Yuki, his cat, woke him up at 3 am with the teary eyes, he panicked. So what else he could have done? He was a simple man. He called the vet.

But now Yuki was feeling great again, kicking her favorite catnip fish plushie with her back legs, and Kazuha was trying to explain to his friends that the call was an emergency and it didn't mean he couldn't have survived without his phone.

Unfortunately, if Beidou and Ningguang weren't stubborn, then he hadn't met a stubborn person ever in his life.

"What was I supposed to do then? Run with the crying cat in my arms to the vet at 3 am?" he asked desperately, knowing the chances of winning the argument were ridiculously small.

"Well, you could've called a taxi," started Beidou and smirked at Ningguang. A sign.

"Oh, but that he couldn't have done too, poor thing," her girlfriend finished. "Yuki should be grateful her owner is so responsible."

"That was an emergency. I don't recall the rules of our bet being so rigid."

"You did say you could've lived a week without a phone. Those were the rules," shrugged Ningguang. "Maybe if you said something like, 'I could live a week without any social media,' then this time wouldn't be counted."

Kazuha closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Okay, then. What is my punishment?"

***

Whatever he had expected, this was not that. He was sitting in the restaurant (a really expensive one, thank you Ningguang) in a black suit and black patent-leather shoes. He looked good, he wasn't going to be too coy, but it was a far cry from his daily clothing nonetheless. He preferred loose shirts, more layers and more accessories. Despite being fully dressed, he felt awfully naked at the moment.

Whoever his blind date was, he hoped they would not be as snobby as Kazuha's garments. He could only have faith in his friends to not match him with some weirdo on Tinder.

That was his punishment. For some inexplicable reason, his friends couldn't understand that he was at perfect peace with his lack of romantic human connections. He had some experience from the times he was in his teen years, and it was more than enough. His heart didn't ache for a lover. He had friends he absolutely adored, a cute cat and a small apartment in Liyue Harbor – what could he possibly dream of? He was free in so many senses. He yearned for even more freedom.

He also happened to yearn for this date to be over soon, and it hadn't even started. He knew he shouldn't have come too early, but apparently not everyone had a wreck of the inner clock – his hopes for his date to arrive earlier were getting crushed with each minute passing.

When his watches showed him 9 pm, he saw a man entering the restaurant. Something about this man was... different. His walk, his pose as he stood near the waiter and explained his reasonings for being here, the way he turned his head in Kazuha's direction – and then their eyes met, a shock wave running through his entire body. He couldn't bring himself to look away, captivated. The stranger's mouth twitched, then he broke off the eye contact and started his way to the table where Kazuha was sat.

That was his blind date? The man looked handsome. He was wearing a suit, too – of a dark blue colour, definitely tailored and extortionate. His haircut was a bowl cut, but Gods did it look good on him. He pulled it off perfectly, with some loose strands trying to hide his big indigo eyes. Which, woah – Kazuha was sure they glowed. Actually glowed the same colour Electro lightnings were glowing.

Whoever that man was, he knew how to impress. Kazuha was more than impressed – he was stunned. Absolutely dumbstruck at the way his lavish suit fit all the curves of his body, the way his steps were light yet solid. Was he of some importance in Liyue? He looked like he had people grovel at his feet.

And then the man was near him, locking their eyes again.

"Kaedehara Kazuha, I assume?" and, Archons, his voice. Dulcet, husky, bit raspy as he said his first name.  Kazuha couldn't even bring himself to nod – he closed his eyes for a brief second as an answer.

Kazuha then finally remembered of his manners. He broke the eye contact in order to stand up from his place and help the man with the chair. The latter didn't look surprised or anything – it was like he had expected Kazuha to get a chair for him. Man, oh man. While Kazuha didn't do it out of desire to impress the other, it certainly would be nice to feel some gratefulness in return.

When they were sat at the table, neither seemed to start a conversation. The silence was getting uncomfortable, but Kazuha wasn't sure he would be able to hold back all the epithets for the blind date his mind had already produced by now.

He heard the man sigh. Then, "it's a good restaurant. You have a good taste." The attempt was more than welcomed.

"Oh, I'm afraid my knowledge of good Liyue restaurants is rather limited. My friends were feeling benevolent, they helped me out."

The man hummed in agreement. It's when Kazuha noticed something flicker in his eyes – only for a second, but it was there. A mixed raw emotion. It was gone a moment later, the look in the eyes going back to inscrutable but dominant nonetheless.

"Friends, huh? Do your friends have to aid you with all your dates?" and there was it. A barely visible smirk on his lips, the man was probably content with his teasing remark.

Seriously, who was this man? Not even five minutes into the date and he was already off the road of a normal healthy conversation, entering the uncharted waters of bantering.

Or at least that was what Kazuha was hoping for, because he was bored out of his mind. Two could play this game, and Kazuha was sure to win – he was renowned for both his wits and patience.

"It's not what I'm usually up to," he shifted in his chair so he was closer to the man, his elbows propped on the table. "I'm afraid you are the accident victim of my friends's excessive concern."

"And that concern of theirs," the man stilled, squinting his eyes a bit, "concerns what, to be precise?"

"My dating life, obviously," Kazuha sighed. He leaned away, his back to the chair's back again. "I wasn't looking for anyone, per se. I'm content with the life I have right now," he sighed again, this time too dramatically. "But then the unfortunate sequence of events lead me to the point where my friends were more than happy to play the part of little... rascals, which they actually are. And here I am," he gestured at himself and then around, "on a blind date with a total stranger, whose face I was blessed to have seen for the first time only mere minutes ago."

"A blind date, huh? Your friends prove yet again to have a good taste, then," his date gave him a smirk, tilting his head a bit to the right.

"Well, I should congratulate you on joining them," he leaned on the table again, bringing his index finger to touch his bottom lip. "If it was you who matched with me."

"And here I thought you were a humble man," the other man replied, his eyes vigorous. Oh, so he was into his and Kazuha's little play! It made Kazuha's heart skip a beat. He absolutely adored bantering with his friends, but whatever was going on right now – this was different. Each word was coming to him as naturally as it were the Archons themselves blessing them with the ability to talk to watch them get at each other. "But don't be conceited, I was getting bored and you were a tad bit better looking than the rest of that goddamn app."

"And still, you chose me."

"Choose is a strong word, it's not for my situation," the man shrugged, the corners of his lips going down for a dramatic frown. "I was forced into it, just like you. You've mentioned something like ' unfortunate sequence of events ', I think that works for me as well."

"Were you also lucky enough to experience your friends' strong love for you, then?"

"I believe so. In short, it was either you or their non-stop whining about my business, not theirs. And Archons know my patience is running out with each second I spend in the company of my beloved friends."

"I see," said Kazuha, slightly nodding. "And yet, I'll have the courage to call out your... withholding truth."

"How so?" the man asked, expression blank.

"Well, it's not like you need to be here. Even if you were forced to find a date, there was no need for you to get here. Unless," he looked round the restaurant, face serious and eyes narrowed, his voice going quieter, "you friends are watching you right now."

"And you are a fine one to talk, Kaedehara," for some reason, the man sounded annoyed now. "If you didn't want to have this stupid fucking date, why are you here?"

Call it a natural curiosity, because it was the  only explanation Kazuha could came up with for his actions when he heard himself saying not a second later, "It's simple, really. The reservation," he quickly nodded his head in the direction of the waiter. "My friends would've known I've skipped the date if I hadn't showed up. But you," he put his index finger on the man's chest and tapped. The man's eyebrow twitched. "Could've gone anywhere else but here. So don't give me 'I didn't choose you' when we both know that not only you did choose me, you also chose to show up here. Don't pity yourself, for i am here against my will, but you – the only enemy you've fallen a victim to is your own doing."

He finished a dialogue with a small smile.

Kazuha was excited to see what was going to happen next – to him, it was like a game of chess. A word against someone else's word, first two pawns' moves. A lucky guess about your opponent's character, a knight capturing a forgotten figure. A snarky remark straight to the heart, a queen destroying everything on her way. Then, a summary of all the knowledge gained from the conversation put into eloquent words like check.

However, the next move presented to Kazuha would most likely be recognized as castling, even if it was against the rules to move your king in check.

The man stood up, face barely expressing anything, but his eyes... his eyes were flaring. The mood had changed instantly. He cleared his throat before speaking, and when he spoke, his voice was cold and distant, "that's enough, Kaedehara." Kazuha almost winced at how harsh his last name came out of the man's mouth, "you've made yourself clear. You don't want me here, and I have no wish to stay here any longer."

Before Kazuha could even blink, the man had already turned around and started his way towards the exit. He wanted to stop him, but words just couldn't leave his throat. He was subjected to his seat, watching his date leaving the place he had entered not even 10 minutes earlier. Something did an unpleasant flip in his stomach – something was still stinging him. He tried to reflect on what he could have said to the stranger to cause such strong reaction, but he could feel the time slipping through his fingers. He knew he should apologize, at least. He wanted to apologize. He clearly went overboard, and the man wasn't even his friend nor an enemy, he was his blind date. What Kazuha needed right now was to catch up with him, he could have figured the right words to say on his way.

With the clear goal on his mind, Kazuha stood up from his seat. It was about to become a very long Friday, apparently.

***

It had been a very fucking long Friday. La Signora's pathetic struggles to keep the situation under control, Childe annoying him to no end – and now, some puny punk basically telling him to go fuck himself.

Eventually he would come to understand that he had overreacted, but for now... for now he was just mad.

Because, honestly? He had every right to be mad. The man didn't even bother to ask his name. What else was there to speak of? Kaedehara definitely didn't want him to be there, and he made it clear with every thing he did – the staring, the not bothering to ask Scaramouche's name, the i-was-forced-to-be-here. It's not like Scaramouche was a nice person, he recognized himself as an opposite, but he would've handled the situation differently.

A shame that such a pretty face belonged to such a douche.

It was not exactly a lie, what Scaramouche said about him coming here not being his choice. His friends forced him into downloading a dating app, because "look at you all grown-up and virgin," and the latter one he wasn't, thank you very much. And he wasn't an old geezer, but his colleagues had already written him off. Or maybe it wasn't his age they were worried about, but he wouldn't unpack all of that right now. Or ever. He missed the times they would awe at how unsuitable Scaramouche was for conversations sometimes, biting and barking instead of putting in some effort when he was struggling with emotions. It was embarrassing, but it was getting more embarrassing now that their musings turned into nagging.

He didn't mind loneliness. It was not like he had another option – people didn't seem to take much interest in him either way. And even if they did, there was this scathing personality of his to deal with. He was told once that only a man with a patience of a God would be able to tolerate him.

So far, it looked like Archons didn't send any human around him more patience.

He was fine with it. He enjoyed little interactions he had with his colleagues at work, and there were some people who cared enough to stay in touch even knowing he was a Fatuus.

He was never stupid enough to believe that Fatui were loved among the common folk, but he was growing tired of people rejecting him the very moment he mentioned his work place. He was never even on the frontline to begin with. His work was more of the "safe" one, like traveling around from time to time, plotting and scheming. He was still hated by the people he was up against, but in his line of work the chances of him getting stabbed were slightly lower. Just a tad bit.

So why bother trying to find someone on that app if they would most likely end up like every other human he had failed to maintain contact with?

But oh, this was a new development, an unexpected one. It was either that Kaedehara knew he was from the Fatui somehow, or he just hated his guts for whatever reason.

A shame, really. Because even if Scaramouche was forced into choosing a date, he didn't feel disgusted when Kaedehara matched with him. The other man didn't have more than three photos in the profile, and his signature was whatever, but something in him just spoke to Scaramouche. He was intrigued, to say that much. Kazuha was pretty, and there was something in his eyes, something ever so palpable just by looking at his pictures on the screen.

Scaramouche cursed, recalling all the events of the night so far. He was stupid enough to believe that the other took some interest in him. In reality, it was most likely that Kaedehara found him so despicable he couldn't even think of a polite way to turn him down. What Scaramouche thought to be flirty teasing turned out to be borderline bullying.

He told himself to suck it up. After all, there must have been a reason while he was stuck in this circle of finally allowing himself to get his hopes up and feel something that wasn't boredom and then having that crushed by something close to one of those meteorites Zhongli was fond of. Maybe Archons wanted him to learn his lesson. Maybe Scaramouche was reluctant to do so yet.

He tried to start his motorbike, but to no avail.

"Is that yours?" he heard from behind. It was all it took him to suddenly feel less reluctant to learn the lesson. He got just enough today. Let the lighting hit him – either himself or Kaedehara.

He bit back the snarky comeback sitting in his throat, opting to stare at his opponent with his glare. There was no need to be polite with him, he tried to remind himself. "Whose else it could've been? Unless you think I came all the way up here to steal a motorbike."

"It could've been a treat. Just because the night is hopeless doesn't mean it has to be fruitless," Kaedehara replied before clasping his hand to his mouth, eyes widened. "Oh Lord," he said, sounds muffled.

"Okay, you know what? Fuck you," Scaramouche spatted, now feeling the urge the hit the man. Honestly, maybe a swollen eye could teach him a good lesson. And a swollen lip so that pretty mouth knew better than to run itself like there was no one else in the world.

"No, no, please, sorry," Kaedehara finally seemed to come back to his senses, his face showing emotion Scaramouche could only identify as a regret.

"What are you doing here?" he sighed, tired of everything. He wasn't up for more challenge today, he was tired of trying to understand everyone else. Why couldn't everyone just say straight what they thought of him? Honestly, was it too fucking much to ask for?

"My date ran off," Kaedehara started, and when the harbinger rolled his eyes, he gestured him to stay quiet. "They ran off because I was an asshole. That's a problem with me, really," he put his hand on his chest, the space near his heart, "I run my mouth too much, and sometimes I go overboard."

"That you certainly do," grumbled Scaramouche in return, trying to start his motorbike again. This time, it finally worked.

"I can't help it, the art of shutting up around people I find pretty is something I never seem to master," and that was enough to get Scaramouche's attention. Kaedehara even dared to allow a bit of smugness enter his face when he noticed the obvious change in Scaramouche's demeanor. "Teasing is hard to contain especially if that's how you flirt, but I still try my best, you know. And then I fail."

"So what are you trying to say?" Scaramouche was getting impatient. Whatever it was that Kaedehara wanted, he wanted him to spill. He was tired, so, so tired.

"Do you think my date would have me back?" He asked, obvious care laced in his voice.

"Why won't you just ask them instead of asking a random stranger instead?"

"Oh, but I'm scared of facing them again," and did he just make fucking puppy eyes? "I know I will get lost in those indigo eyes again, they are like ocean but deeper, prettier, and more fearsome but addicting. And their hair, their hair is so-"

"Kaedehara," Scaramouche choked out, sudden compliment rendering him speechless for a good moment. He did not expect Kaedehara to come here and tell him he found him pretty. He expected himself to be driving home by now. Kazuha was ridiculous.

But as much as he was ridiculous he was... intriguing. Or maybe Scaramouche was going mental already, Fridays always got the best of him.

"Just call me Kazuha, please."

"Alright, Kazuha," he sighed again, putting both of his hands on his shoulders. He barely could help the quirk of his lips as he heard a little gasp escaping Kazuha's mouth as he did so. "I'll let you know that our bantering was something I would be able to keep up with just perfectly on any other day, but today I am too tired. From what you've said I have figured you didn't take any interest in me. But that's not true, is it?"

Kazuha nodded, and Scaramouche tightened his grip a bit.

"So... what now?"

"It depends on what you want."

"Well, I'm still standing here, am I not?"

Kazuha seemed to finally get the hint. He smiled softly, his teeth showing just a bit. Oh, he liked that look on Kazuha's face. It was something he had already seen, the pictures in his profile, but witnessing it firsthand was so much better.

"I want to ask you out on a date. Is this okay with you?"

Scaramouche nodded, then tugged him towards the entrance of the restaurant again, but Kazuha shook his head. "Not there. It's really not my style, we are going somewhere else." There was a smirk on his face, and fucking hell. He ditched this guy about ten minutes ago, he was not falling for his stupid pretty face the very moment he came to him to apologize.

"Where are we going then?"

"You are taking me on tour around the city!" Kazuha almost squeaked, clasping his hands together. "I've moved here recently, so I still get a bit lost in the city. This bad boy of yours," he gestured at his motorbike, "will be able to have both of us, right?"

This time, Scaramouche didn't even bother to conceal the way he choked on the air. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, please forgive me, I didn't mean to insult your motorbike. Of course it can have both of us."

He was not getting it, was he? Or was he just playing dumb?

"I don't have a second helmet with me right now," that was true. What also was true was the fact that he was not suited for giving tours on Liyue Harbor, of all the places. Ask him about any place in Inazuma or Snezhnaya's city center – he would give you his all. In Liyue, though... he could recall a couple of stories, but Kazuha was probably into more sophisticated tales. He should give him Zhongli's number, if that was the case.

"It's fine, I don't need a helmet!" Kazuha exclaimed. Then he narrowed his eyes a bit, that sly glint coming back, "unless you were really worried about my safety?"

"Your safety? The fine for driving without a helmet is about ten thousand mora, having a passenger without one is even more." Scaramouche wasn't by any means poor, but Kazuha didn't know it so he couldn't question the sincerity of his statement. Good.

"We could split the fine, if that's the case."

Scaramouche just gave him a glare. There wasn't much he could do, huh. Kazuha was a persistent little bitch. Instead of dwelling on meaningless arguing, he sat on his vehicle. The helmet talk was a stupid one anyway, because Scaramouche didn't have one for himself either. He liked the feeling of harsh wind on his face, how it grew more cruel the more obtuse angle of the arrow of his speedometer became.

Kazuha followed the case, and Scaramouche gulped as Kazuha's warm hands found their place around his stomach, tugging him closer. "I would never think you were the type to be a ruthless driver," Scaramouche said, a little breathless.

"And I would never think you were the type to run from their blind dates when feeling slightly offended," his voice was way closer to Scaramouche's ear than the harbinger had expected it to be. He winced at their proximity, but was quick enough to cover it with, "too soon."

Kazuha's little laugh against his ear was music.

***

It didn't matter how many definitions were there of "ruthless driving", because their sightseeing tour was not it. It wasn't even driving.

They made stops every few meters, because Scaramouche's brain decided to act as if it was of a history major. Every story he had ever heard before – it was there, lingering in his thoughts just waiting for him to grab it and present it to Kazuha. Next time Scaramouche would see that old fart of Childe's boyfriend, he really had to thank him.

They passed through Feiyun Slope, except "pass through" was too generous – they had spent there half an hour. It was crowded, too, so Scaramouche had to whisper all the stories he could think of in his date's ear. It hit him, at some point, how intimate that was, but Kazuha didn't seem to mind. He listened carefully, trying to process everything he'd been told, and asked Scaramouche to repeat some part if he got lost. Which happened sometimes, because Scaramouche had never learnt to be a good storyteller, but Kazuha didn't seem to mind that, either. He told him of Liuli Pavilion and Xinyue Kiosk, about their rivalry lasting for centuries now. He also told him of Heyu Tea House and of the good performances they gave.

"I didn't know you enjoyed opera singing so much," said Kazuha, a teasing smile on his face. "Shut the fuck up," was Scaramouche's usual go-to answer.

They did it a lot, Kazuha teasing him and him flipping him off, or the other way around. Even if it was the reason they had broken off earlier in the evening, it became a somewhat comfortable routine now. It was fun, to see who would be able to come up with a wittier remark. It was fun and it was easy – just speaking to Kazuha was a brand new experience.

The reason was rooted in Scaramouche's childhood: no one was ever interested in what he'd had to say before. His own mother had claimed him to be a failed child and had throw him away. With him living in different orphanages and traveling on his own as a kid – finding a company, let alone interesting one, was out of question. It was easier when he hadn't asked any questions nor behaved the way which would raise them. It was easier to be a voiceless figure on a run. Oh, and that did a great job of making other kids fear him, which was nice. They were mostly stupid anyway, blabbering about how crazy they were about their parents and shit.

But he let it loose with Kazuha, he knew he did. He let his thoughts set on track beyond any comprehension, the stories mixed with his personal opinions. And somehow Kazuha was able to catch up with his train of thoughts, unbothered by the fact they were often jumping from one topic to another. So when Scaramouche went on a rant about how he was banned from one of the Slope's stores because the workers had wrongly accused him of stealing, Kazuha let him. He laughed at the story too, finding some comforting words to ease his pain (but mostly to fuck with him, really).

"I've never known a more opinionated on jewelry man before," Kazuha confessed after hearing even more tales of the city's business.

"It is not jewelry I have strong opinions on, though, were you even liste-"

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," Kazuha laughed, covering Scaramouche's mouth with his hand. Fuck, was it hot against his lips and cheeks. "It is not jewelry, but nasty scoundrels of shop keepers who steal people's mora and who will rot in hell at the lowest pit." The harbinger couldn't help the way his mouth opened ever slightly, because that was the direct quote from about twenty sentences ago. And Kazuha memorized it, just like that. Holy fuck. "Honestly, you are the most quaint man I've ever known, .."

And there it was. A pause, which wasn't meant to be a pause at all. There was supposed to be a word there, a very specific word for a very specific person, but there was no such word because Kazuha hadn't been able to catch up on his fuck-up. Until now.

"What's wrong, Kaedehara Kazuha?" And even though he was mumbling the words against his hand, he knew Kazuha heard him. His cheeks flushed immediately, and the hand covering Scaramouche's mouth flew to his own mouth in a second.

"Oh lord, I am so sorry," but that only earned a laugh from Scaramouche. "I am so, so sorry. I haven't even realized it, we hit it off so quickly I didn't even think of-"

"It's fine, Kaedehara Kazuha."

"Please, stop," Kazuha winced, pretending to rub the tears our of his face. "This is so embarrassing. I can't believe I've ever considered myself a gentleman. Would a gentleman ever forget to ask their date's name?"

It was obvious he was crushed by his own failure. Scaramouche decided to make it worse.

After all, chances were the whole thing would be over the moment he spilled his name and his job. This was how it went most of the times. Some people were able to sit through the date and then never contact him, some left the date immediately. It was funny at first, seeing their faces change as if he was some sort of a monster, but now it was only draining.

He would never build a relationship based on lie. He would never be able to even if he wanted. He was too well-known, the cat would be out of the bag in a matter of days.

It didn't mean he had never let himself savor the last moments of ignorant bliss of his dates. Just pretend a bit longer that they actually had a chance, that their face wouldn't be filled with disgust. He wondered what went through their minds the moment he told them he was a harbinger. Did they imagine him standing on the rotting battlefield, covered in blood from head to toes? Did they imagine him stabbing the ruler of their region, blood leaking even faster than its owner's life? He had never asked.

"Try to guess it."

"Is this something you have planned all along?" Kazuha asked in return. "To make fun of me in such an cruel way?"

"Maybe I was expecting you to catch up on it, yeah," Scaramouche confirmed. A teasing smile found its way on his face with an ease.

"Oh, you are so, so evil! Conniving!" Now he was weakly banging his fists against Scaramouche's chest, whines escaping his mouth here and there. A thought crossed the harbinger's mind, but it was too obscene to let it sink in. And overwhelming.

"Yeah, but you can at least guess where I am from, right? Baby steps, Kazu, baby steps," Kazuha only looked at him dumbstruck. "Come on, Kaedehara Kazuha, I know you are smart enough."

A little sigh escaped his mouth, eyes widening for a second before he shook his head, smiling, "your accent when you speak my name."

"The lack of it, you meant to say."

"You've been giving me hints from the very beginning. What a considerate person you are."

"Yeah, one of us has to be." At that, Kazuha shook his head again, trying to hide his blush from Scaramouche. It didn't help him in a slightest, and he looked fucking adorable. Scaramouche wanted to kiss him.

Wait.

"You are from Inazuma," concluded Kazuha. "Which city?"

"Uh," fucking hell. That was not the turn of events he had expected. But Kazuha was still here, unaware of his mental struggles, so he choked out, "it's complicated."

"You've moved a lot, then?"

"Sort of." Yeah, his life as a youngster was sure ruthless. He couldn't count all the times he had attempted to escape the ghastly walls of different orphanages, running for his dear life. The way Scaramouche'd seen it, it was better to be in the wild than to be tamed, but stupid adults weren't so compliant with his wishes. One time he had even crossed the ocean by himself, settling for Tatarasuna, and they still had managed to find him and lock him up in the orphanage nearby.

"I've moved a lot, too," contributed Kazuha quietly, whispering that somewhere near his ear. When did he get so close? Did he have no idea of what a personal space was? "My clan ceased to exist, and I've been wandering for a while before Beidou found me and took me on the board. With the help of my childhood friends, it seems, but the gesture was more than appreciated. There was the fact that I was out of Raiden Shogun's favor thus I needed an escape route from Inazuma. We've been traveling for a few months when she suggested me staying in Liyue Harbor with her lover. I'm not locked up here or anything, I'm free to go if I want to, but," it was fascinating how Scaramouche was able to process the other's speech, given that Kazuha's hot breathing was right on his fucking neck. "I figured it was a good opportunity to catch my breath after everything that has happened. I could start something new here. Something that wouldn't include being a wanted criminal or fighting to see another day."

Oh, he got him, didn't he?

"Why did you tell me this?" It was not the only question on his tongue, but it was the most important one.

"I don't know," Kazuha answered frankly, pulling away. "It's rare to see someone Inazuman here, I figured your story can't be much better than mine. Unless you are extremely lucky, but judging by the look on your face when I asked you about your childhood... it seems we both some memories to share, huh?"

"Or you just gave me a sob story to mull over instead of apologizing for not asking my name earlier," Scaramouche said, because he hated talking about his childhood and because it was a good opportunity to see Kazuha wince. Which he did, pushing Scaramouche away with his hand.

"Oh, how dare you! How dare you accuse me of something so nasty and... and genuinely not like me!" Scaramouche only raised his eyebrow and gave him a deadpan stare. "And it's not like I can guess it, too! There are way too many names in our region, you have to tell me myself!"

"But that would be no fun," he argued, mostly because that got him the entertainment of seeing Kazuha suffer some more.

"And you want it fun, don't you..." Kazuha repeated, staring at him with that weird cryptic look. The atmosphere around them changed, something else lingering in the air. "Well, a deal, then," his face suddenly became so serene it was almost unsettling. "You tell me your name, and I'll... surprise you."

Scaramouche was not buying it. "Surprise me how?"

"Well, it is called surprise for a reason, stupid."

"But I can't be sure that you wouldn't lie to me," he said just to be a little shit he was.

"Okay, then surprise first and your name second," agreed Kazuha. Agreed way too eagerly, actually. Scaramouche had no idea what this man was planning, since Kazuha could be unhinged if that was what suited him that moment. Everything was possible. It was terrifying.

"Close your eyes, would you?" Kazuha whispered, a small smile on his lips. And Scaramouche did just that. He, one of the feared Fatui Harbingers, closed his eyes on the first command. Thank Lord there were no Fatui around, he had checked the area twice. He would have never been able to live this down.

Before he could ask Kazuha what was taking him so long, he felt something on his forehead. A kiss, he realized. Hot and light, it was a forehead kiss that Kazuha gave him. He could feel Kazuha's face was still close to his for a few moments as if contemplating staying. But he pulled away eventually and Scaramouche opened his eyes.

Kazuha looked like he was trying his best to hold himself together. He was waiting for Scaramouche to speak.

"I can't recall the name my mother gave me," he said. And before he could think of trying to pacify himself, he added, "I have three names, actually. Just that i can't remember the first one doesn't change the fact."

Kazuha looked like he was going to hit him. Hard. With his full power this time. Kazuha could be his guest.

"That... certainly calls for another surprise, doesn't it?" He asked too quietly, and Scaramouche recognized that as him being shy. The idea of Kazuha being shy was groundbreaking, it was unbelievable and it made Scaramouche want to see through their little game.

"I guess it does," he said before he licked his lips quickly and closed his eyes. He was so eager he wanted to hit himself. Maybe Kazuha should have done just that.

What he felt next was a kiss, too, but this time to his left cheek. This time Kazuha's lips also lingered on his cheek for moments too long, but he pulled away anyway. Scaramouche would have probably lost it by now, but an even better idea had stroke through his mind.

"The second name is Kunikuzushi. Like a country destroyer, yeah," he offered a small smile and was glad to find it mirrored on Kazuha's face.

"But it isn't a name you go by these days, hm?" He asked, licking his lips. Oh.

"Exactly. Guess we need another miracle, after all," and this time, he even leaned in a bit closer. He was afraid that Kazuha would suddenly back out, be it out of his own uncertainty or fear. It would be Kazuha's choice then, but Scaramouche really needed Kazuha to know that he was up for.. whatever could happen.

He closed his eyes.

And then he felt the same softest of lips on his own.

It was... soft. So, so soft Scaramouche wanted to cry. He wanted more of him, more of Kazuha, but he wasn't sure how to ask and he wasn't sure that Kazuha wanted it as much as he did and he wasn't sure that Kazuha would still tolerate him after he found out the truth about him and-

He realized Kazuha's head moved a little to adjust the angle so their lips fit better, and Scaramouche was just about to cup his jaw with his hands and pull him closer when the magic ended. He tried to chase his lips, but only heard a breathless laugh. Opening his eyes, he saw Kazuha's lips evolving from soft little smile into shit-eating grin.

That fucking tease.

"Scaramouche. My name is Scaramouche."

***

He would say that the rest of the date wasn't eventful, but it actually was. As much as exhilarating it felt to kiss Kazuha, the night was still young. And finding out new stuff about Kazuha was nice.

He had a white cat named Yuki. Kazuha looked too free-spirited to have something as burdening with responsibilities as a cat, but she meant something to Kazuha – it was obvious with the way softness and reverence seeped into his tone when talking about her. He was curious, but he figured they'd had enough meaningful conversations for now. For today.

Scaramouche wasn't even sure how many people knew of his old name – maybe it had been Tsaritsa only for ages. Now, Kazuha shared the privilege with her.

The idea made him tremble, whether with excitement of fear – he didn't know.

"No stories about Bubu Pharmacy?" Inquired Kazuha as they passed by the long set of stairs leading to a single building.

"Hell no, the owner is a creep," he muttered. Baizhu looked suspiciously like one of the fucking Harbingers, and while it was not common for them to ask each other personal questions, Scaramouche felt like one of those questions was on the tip of his tongue every time he had to buy something from Baizhu or work with Pantalone.

"Really?" And the harbinger could swear Kazuha smiled.

"Yeah, I try not to shop there at all. Headache is better than talking to that snake...s."

He couldn't hear Kazuha laugh, but he could feel the way his body shook against Scaramouche.

"Just to be on the same page," Kazuha suddenly added, but smile was still noticeable in his voice, "I distrust this man, too. He helped Yuki once, but it was a stupid story, really, and I think next time I would rather just swim across the ocean to Inazuma with my cat on top of my head to see the vet."

The image appeared in his mind immediately, causing Scaramouche to wheeze. It was probably his tired brain playing tricks on him, making everything seem way too funny. Kazuha laughed next to him too.

"A stupid story, huh?" Now it was Scaramouche's turn to be curious. The harbinger turned his head so Kazuha could hear his request clear, "tell some more?"

"You needn't ask, since this story is the reason why we met, Scara," murmured Kazuha in his ear. And then he did tell him. He told him of Yuki with teary eyes, her meows which sounded too pitiful at three am, and him losing a bet.

To say that Scaramouche was amused was to say nothing. He had to stop the motorbike because he was laughing so hard he feared he would crash them. Despite Kazuha's sour face, he knew the boy found this story just as ridiculous.

"I can't believe I thought you were dead serious at the restaurant. ' You could've lied and not come here ,' my ass. You could've lied just as fucking easily. What a fucking hypocrite," he said, no malice in his words.

"Well, I am a honest man," Kazuha gave him another soft smile. This man and his soft smiles... they were driving Scaramouche insane. "And if I wasn't, I wouldn't be here. That would be disappointing, right?"

"Life and disappointment... go hand in hand, you know. It's good that you are here, but," he trailed off. Shit. He didn't mean to go there yet. But since he did get there, maybe he should've just bursted the bubble already, ripped off that rainbow bandaid.

There was hope inside him for some reason, hope that Kazuha wouldn't be repulsed by Scaramouche's job. Kazuha did say he was a wanted criminal. Knowing Inazuma and its laws, he knew it was more than possible. However, it probably was some bullshit case. Kazuha could say the strangest shit from time to time, he didn't look like the type to commit manslaughter or anything. The only mean bone in Kazuha was for the constant teasing others,

or maybe he just didn't know him good enough.

But then Kazuha would go open his mouth and flowers would come out: in a form of a haiku he adored or a small lyric in the middle of the sentence. Kazuha was a man of Art, and Art he was in every possible way – his body of an ancient sculpture, his body movements of a dancer, his face of a Renaissance drawing, his tongue of a lyricist. It was so easy to be drawn to him when he was so handsome in so many ways. Behind a pretty face was an even prettier soul.

"I can see that something bothers you," said Kazuha after a small pause. He was tentative, his face showing obvious worry. "Whatever it is, it must have been holding you back this entire time. I-," and then he put his hands on Scaramouche's lap, palms up. An invitation. "If there is anything I can help you with, I want to. And if you want to, you can tell me. I promise not to judge."

He promised not to judge. He promised.

"I think it'll ruin the evening. It always does," Scaramouche confessed as he accepted the invitation and put his hands in Kazuha's palms. Kazuha squeezed a bit, an I'm here.

Before Scaramouche could even think of a better way to break the news, he got startled by Kazuha's sudden, "oh Lord, are you taken?"

The snort that left Scaramouche's mouth was the loudest thing in the night, given they were alone on the street because normal people chose to sleep at reasonable time. Fuck sleep, honestly. He had his hands in Kazuha's, he wanted to kiss Kazuha some more, and Kazuha's fear was that Scaramouche was already seeing someone.

"That is your biggest concern?" He could barely hold his laugh. Kazuha, poor man, how pure was he? "I've told you my friends have forced me to look into dating app, haven't I?"

"You've never specified," replied Kazuha, his face borderline confused and relieved. "And that certainly can't contradict the possibility of you having a wife and five kids back in Inazuma."

"F-five? Five kids? Holy shit, Kazuha," this man was going to be the death of him, he knew it, he just knew it. "What in the breeding fucking kink?"

"Well, I don't know!" Kazuha cried out, his hands leaving Scaramouche to go up in the air, helplessly waving around. Before Scaramouche could mourn the loss of warm touch, Kazuha was holding his hands again. "But I take it you don't have a wife hidden somewhere then?"

"Fuck no, Kazuha. I'm not even into women. And I still can't believe that was your biggest concern."

"Well, that means you can tell me anything, you know," Kazuha's voice went quiet. He squeezed his hands again. Basically, it was all it took to reassure Scaramouche. 

"I'm working for the Fatui," he told him, looking down at their intertwined fingers. When Kazuha didn't reply, he added, "like, I am one of the Harbingers. The sixth, to be precise. The Balladeer."

Kazuha was still holding his hands, a good sign. That's why Scaramouche dared to look up and examine the other man's face. He only met a couple of confused eyes and a raised eyebrow.

"That's it?" Kazuha sighed in relief.

"You want there to be more?"

"Scara," and he put his head on Scaramouche's shoulder, sighing. He turned his head so he was facing Scaramouche's neck. "I was aware of that already."

"Wait," because, seriously, wait. "How?"

"How many people have you ever met with the peculiar names like they are taken from a piece of foreign literature?"

"But that doesn't tell shit-"

"It doesn't, I concur. Call it a hunch or a wild guess, but it scored bullseye. When you walked in that restaurant, I sensed that power coming off your steps, it was like you owned that place. Your scent is strong and different from the others. And even now, with the way you drive around and tell me stories and just look at things – you don't look like a common citizen. Then there's also the fact that I live with Ningguang," the name didn't ring a bell, so Kazuha explained, "the one in charge of Liyue?"

"Ah."

"Yeah. She would drop names like La Signora or Childe in negotiations, and I would overhear them sometimes. Their mames sound too peculiar to not be aliases. And by the way, whoever those people are, they sound like pain in the ass."

"That's because they are. Trust me, they are some insufferable bastards."

Kazuha laughed at that, his breathing hot against Scaramouche's neck.

"I think you would get along with Ningguang. Back to the topic, there's also that bit you've said, something about that big secret of yours always ruining the evenings. I understand why people might dislike the Fatui, but... I'm not joining their slander."

"Why?"

"Because I've always seen your folk as diplomats."

"You're... the strangest fucking guy I've ever met," was what Scaramouche was able to choke out before he bursted into laughter, his chest filled with relief. Fatui. Diplomats . It wasn't that they weren't diplomats, it was that everyone had stopped seeing them as such years ago. Even the stupidest of citizens recognized Fatui as a threat. The fact that Kazuha didn't was either showing his purest of hearts or just how fucking lunatic he was.

He liked the guy. He really, really liked him.

Before Scaramouche could spat out something like a whole ass confession, he opted for, "Baizhu reminds me of one of the Harbingers. He literally looks like him, save for his soot black hair."

"No way," Kazuha raised his head from his shoulder, "but can it be that..?"

"It's either they are twins or they are the same person, dying his hair each time before the official meetings."

Kazuha snickered. "Have I ever told you I looove conspiracies?"

Actually, he looked just like the type.

***

They drove around the Harbor some more, going in circles now that Scaramouche was exhausted of the stories to tell. Kazuha wasn't, but they were unrelated to the city's history. He kept murmuring things in his ears, random bullshit he could recall from his childhood's adventures or from his current life in Liyue Harbor. He had a really nice silky voice, that already stupidly good Kazuha. It was nice just listening to him.

About 2 am they finally reached the place Scaramouche had in mind for some time now. It was near the teleport point outside the city up to the mountain. He thought Kazuha might find this viewpoint of interest.

From here was a lovely bird's eye view on Liyue Harbor. The harbinger didn't like the city much, it was just another congested town for him, but he had to admit – it looked gorgeous. All the lights illuminating the streets, ships standing peacefully at the port–

Kazuha clearly enjoyed the view too. He got to the cliff right away, standing not even a meter away from the fall. He hadn't said a word yet. Scaramouche thought it might be something beautiful. Another haiku, maybe. Kazuha seemed to be too fond of haikus. Scaramouche licked his lips, nervously anticipating Kazuha's expert review.

"It's chilly here," were his first words, a simple whine. Unless it was the beginning of a verse, which it obviously wasn't.

"No shit, we are on the mountain and it's night."

"But I'm getting cold, Scara," Kazuha finally turned around to face him. Despite a whine in his voice, his rosy face showed none of the struggles. If anything, the only thing off was that sneaky glint in his eyes. Scaramouche shook his head – Kazuha was probably up to shenanigans again.

"I can't control weather, Kazuha.

"I can," Kazuha said, lifting his right hand just a bit and swirling his index and middle fingers around. Right on cue Scaramouche felt the warmest of the breezes caressing his cheek. It was just as those kisses Kazuha gave him before, fleeting and dreamy.

Well, fuck him.

Scaramouche held up his thumb and index fingers, a small lightning showing between them. That small tingling sensation this trick made him feel was nothing new to him. "Wanna get electrocuted, then?"

Kazuha only barked a laugh. "That wouldn't make me feel warmer, Scara," and he even pouted.

"No, but it would keep you entertained, just the way you love it."

"You think I love entertainment?"

"Everyone likes to be entertained," he shrugged.

"You seem to think you know exactly what i like."

"I might have a few ideas," Scaramouche said vaguely. "You aren't subtle, you know. Not as much as you think you are."

"Oh, but you wound me!" Kazuha brought his right hand to his heart, making a hurt grimace. "I take pride in my being subtle. May it be a lapse in judgment on your part?"

"Even if it was, there would be only one way to find out the truth," he took a step forward, waiting for Kazuha to move. Not a second later, Kazuha followed him, taking a step closer.

To stand there, on the cliff, under the serene moon glow – it was surreal. It felt like a dream, and Scaramouche needed to know that it was real, that it was happening and he was present.

When his hands found their way to Kazuha's waist, pulling him even closer, Kazuha's breath hitched, lips parting a bit. He didn't protest against it. It was real.

It was real, and Scaramouche's gaze darted to the other man's lips. He could only do so much to not let his hands tremble in anticipation. He felt Kazuha's gaze slowly leaving his eyes, too. He leaned in, and Kazuha did too. Scaramouche could feel his hot breath on his face now.

He licked his lips, tilting his head up because Kazuha had a few annoying centimeters over him. He knew his eyes were growing half-lidded, and he saw Kazuha's eyes closing as well. They were going to kiss, for real this time.

"Take me home."

"What?"

"It's really cold here, and my vision is helpless. Turns out I can't control weather as good as I thought."

Fucking hell.

He could feel the same tiredness from before sinking in his bones. He was so, so tired. The euphoria from before turned into disappointment faster than Childe had his ass handed to him by the Traveler every Monday during their trainings. Hadn't Scaramouche mentioned earlier that today was not the day for the games?

He didn't know what he wanted to do: to cry, to throw himself off the cliff or to help Kazuha learn the definition of a free fall.

Before he got a hold of himself again, he sighed and threw his head back. Above him countless stars were scattered across the sky, all of them witnesses of his misery.

With Kazuha's curious look on him, Scaramouche shrugged his jacket off and put it around Kazuha. He heard Kazuha's breath hitch again but decided to not give it another thought. Neither of them moved, and then Kazuha breathed in the space they shared, "what for?"

"You were getting cold, weren't you?" And there was that adorable little smile on Kazuha's face framed with tinted light pink cheeks. Scaramouche pursed his lips. "And I know for a fact my motorbike couldn't get both of us here without some extra help," extra help obviously being Kazuha's Anemo Vision: they were too heavy for the steep road.

Before he could make a move towards their vehicle, Kazuha stopped him by grabbing his hand. When Scaramouche wasn't expecting it, he was gifted with another peck on the cheek. It was still as quick and light as from their little game earlier, but this time Kazuha lingered near him long enough to murmur, "you are a good date."

There was something weaved into his words. A pity, maybe? Or was it a regret? Was there something he regretted about this evening?

Scaramouche really wished he understood Kazuha better.

"It's baby hours," a sarcastic remark instead of direct confrontation, good enough for his exhausted mind.

"Is this your way of calling me a baby? You are so sweet," Kazuha said, poking his nose and puffing at the way Scaramouche twitched.

Question was left unanswered as Scaramouche started the bike.

***

Driving to Kazuha's home was... something.

Something rather unpleasant, if Scaramouche was to compare it to the earlier events of their date.

The intensity and awkwardness was almost palpable: Kazuha hadn't even said a word besides telling Scaramouche his address.  Having Kazuha silent was a dreadful experience. The man hadn't run out of words, had he? His mouth was a perpetual motion machine, it couldn't have happened.

The ride wasn't long, but Archons did it feel like they were traveling from Mondstadt to Inazuma by foot. But as that feat would get to an end eventually, so was Scaramouche soon to stop his vehicle in front of Kazuha's apartment.

It was a blue building of five stores, none of the lights turned on. Its location was convenient – to the left was local market and to the left was a bus stop. Across the street were a small 24-hours pharmacy and a flower shop.

The building itself wasn't remarkable, but the area around it was covered with the flowers – that must have been the residents, because Liyue government only cared enough to decorate main streets and roads. Here Scaramouche could see even silk flowers, and those were high-maintenance.

Kazuha seemed to have followed his gaze. He explained, "the old lady who keeps the flower shop across the street lives here. She was blessed with green fingers and exquisite taste, you should see the bouquets she makes."

He couldn't believe the guy. After that insufferable ride he finally started talking about fucking flowers?

When their eyes met, Kazuha bit his bottom lip, unreadable look on his face yet again. As Scaramouche raised an eyebrow in a silent question, Kazuha sputtered, "ah.. so-"

"Kazuha-"

"Want to see Yuki?"

Good fucking Lord.

"What?"

"My cat! I mean, we talked about her before, she loves visitors, you should-"

"Kazuha."

"No, really, you would love her-"

He reached out to grab Scaramouche's hand, but the other yanked it back, taking a step back. He cried again, "Kazuha!"

Kazuha grew quiet, but his eyes never left Scaramouche's. It was way too prolonged eye contact for his own liking. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What?" Kazuha whispered, and finally, finally, there was an emotion on his face which Scaramouche could read – confusion.

"Stop playing dumb, you know what I'm talking about."

"I really don't. I don't understand you," something like guilt flashed in his eyes. Good. that would be Kazuha's homework, to google the meaning of "emotional damage".

"No, that's me who doesn't understand anything. You keep doing this," and he gestured at both of them, at the proximity between them. "Just now, you tried to grab my hand. Why?"

"I thought you were getting shy-"

He was astonished. Flabbergasted, even. He didn't care how cliché he looked right now that his jaw dropped and his arms flopped to his sides, posture crumbling.

"I was getting shy," he barked. "You played it like you wanted to kiss me twice this evening. Twice!" He cried again, exasperated. Maybe Kazuha was just stupid and he didn't know that was an inappropriate thing to do if you didn't like your date.

"But I-"

"Kazuha, it's fine if you don't like me, really. But I don't fucking understand you and that's getting annoying. I've told you already, I don't feel like playing games today. Do you want me to see your cat because you are a proud cat owner or because you want me there? I genuinely can not tell and it is infuriating."

Honestly, Kazuha looked like Scaramouche just told him he was the Electro Archon themselves. Except maybe he wouldn't have looked this lost if that was the case. It was the first time he saw Kazuha's eyes go this big, and the red of his eyes in the glow of street lights looked so warm, so soft, so sweet and Lord if only-

"I'm so sorry," Kazuha whispered, "please, this is a misunderstanding, I swear-" And Scaramouche's heart sank. It fell through his stomach and crashed on the cold asphalt, the debris mixing in with the dust.

He'd traveled through seven nations, he had seen the remnants of dead Archons and ruins of fallen nations, he had been in the middle of political affairs more times than his mother had ever hugged him. Fuck, he had been through three attempted murders, and yet nothing felt as demoralizing as standing here, in front of Kazuha's house, and hearing that he had misunderstood shit.

"You are getting a wrong idea again," Kazuha frowned, and it was all it took to turn Scaramouche's sorrow into anger. His fists were aching now. "Please, just hear me out."

"How about I punch you in the face?"

"The anger you feel is understandable for I have fucked up again. But I- I didn't think this through. I guess I should've told you-"

Scaramouche turned around and moved to his motorbike.

"Scara, no!" Kazuha squeaked. "Listen, just listen, it's not-"

"Your ability to fuck with people is truly unmatched. Have you ever considered joining the Fatui?"

"Scara, I wanted to kiss you!"

Oh.

Scaramouche tried his best to portrait a disinterested face before turning around to see Kazuha. He knew he did a shit job. Had he been truly not interested, he would've started driving. His dignity was nonexistent today, good for the other man.

"Look, remember how I've called you a good date?" Kazuha waited for Scaramouche to nod before continuing, "that was an understatement. You are a great date, it's been really long since the last time I've had such a great time. All the stories you've told me about the city and yourself, and then the viewpoint! It was breathtaking, the Harbor looked heavenly. Not to mention our bickering and how you were always so fast to pick up on clues, and if you didn't, you still stayed true to yourself, remained a gentleman. The date was... perfect." Kazuha stopped himself as if to steady himself. He sighed and murmured, taking a step forward, " you are a perfect date."

"If I'm... that , then why..." Scaramouche trailed off. Archons, it was the worst day for a date. Each breath he took was followed by something embarrassing. He hoped the earth would swallow him full. He hated the way he sounded like a needy teenager.

"Because I figured that if I had kissed you there, we wouldn't have been able to drive home at all. I'd make you drive into a tree or something because I wouldn't be able to keep my hands to myself. Call it a safety measure 'cuz I'm down bad."

Kazuha dared to look smug now, that mischief. Scaramouche had to admit that the smug face looked good on Kazuha. He was really, really pretty, with the messed up hair and stupid big scarlet eyes, flushed cheeks and tips of his ears. Scaramouche knew he didn't look much better, but he had already made a fool out of himself in front of Kazuha Archons knew how many times. He figured that maybe it didn't matter anymore.

Or maybe he let his gay thoughts run away with him.

His gaze fell on Kazuha's lips, and he heard the other gulp. It was followed by a tongue wetting lips, and Scaramouche's mind short circuited.

"I can sum that up for you, actually. Care to listen?"

"Yeah, whatever," Scaramouche replied, his gaze still on Kazuha's pretty little mouth. He was so close, and Kazuha just told him he was a good date. A perfect one, even. That, and the fact that he grew tired of fruitless pinning. He wanted more now, he wanted to lean in, to finally close the gap between them, to taste him already.

"I want you to kiss me stupid right now."

Oh.

It was enough of a confirmation for Scaramouche to grab Kazuha by the front of his shirt and pull him down into a kiss.

Their teeth clanked and their noses bumped, but it was easy to fix: Scaramouche tilted his head a bit so their lips slotted against each other. He wasted no second after feeling Kazuha's lips moving, letting go of Kazuha's shirt only to put his hand on his chin, cupping his jaw, pulling him closer. He didn't dare going further than that, letting himself enjoy fervent touches of lips, the way Kazuha was squirming under his touch, pressing their chests together, tangling his hands into Scaramouche's hair, tugging at it softly.

The harbinger knew he was ruined the moment Kazuha pulled away, breathless. The way Kazuha gasped for air did things to him, and his lips found their way back to the man's mouth the very next second, this time with the tongue aching to explore more. And Kazuha, bless his soul, let him do that, parting his lips in consent.

Scaramouche licked inside, tongue going left to right counting the teeth. Then he licked tentatively further, touching Kazuha's tongue, and the sound escaping Kazuha's mouth was so lewd he had to hold onto his shoulders for his dear life.

The man pulled away but not without Scaramouche stealing another kiss, nibbling at his bottom lip. Kazuha tried to say something, and Archons did he look just as wrecked: his eyes were darkened with the desire stored in them, lips getting swollen already. Just knowing that it was his doing made Scaramouche's mind go fuzzy.

"See what I was on about?" Kazuha mused in the space between them, bringing their foreheads together. "Imagine driving home after that."

"So you opted to driving me insane instead," Scaramouche jested, too eager to make their lips meet again for a soft kiss. It definitely was not enough for neither of them. "You should've told me something like, 'I'll kiss you when we get home'. Some more clarity wouldn't have hurt."

"But that would ruin the charm of our first proper kiss, Scara," Kazuha answered before sucking on Scaramouche's bottom lip loudly, and Scaramouche was once again fighting for his dear life here. His knees were giving up on him because Kazuha sounded so lustful, so ardent it sent shivers down his spine. He also did his best to control himself lest he made shameful noises he wouldn't be able to play off cool. To be honest, he doubted he could ever play it cool with Kazuha around, the man was making his brain development regress. Oh, but Scaramouche wanted this to continue, because this bitter misery let him indulge in something sweeter, in this alluring sensation of being with Kazuha.

The truth was probably somewhere on the spectrum of insanity, with both Scaramouche and Kazuha being fucking deranged – that was the only explanation of the pull they felt towards each other.

And that's considering Scaramouche was a diplomat, as Kazuha had put it so eloquently. He wasn't well-known in the Harbor, but the matter remained – to the extent of him being advised having guards follow him. Instead of that, he was kissing his half-blind date in the middle of a cramped alley.

This was so liberating, to have finally learned to breathe in this big city. Even more so, to have his breath being snatched away from  him and to find himself going along with this intimate moment, to find himself wishing for more.

"The charm," Scaramouche murmured into the kiss. He opted to leave a trail of kisses down Kazuha's neck, licking and sucking at the sensitive spot near his Adam's apple. He grinned when he felt Kazuha's throat work against his lips. Then, he pulled himself up to line his mouth against the shell of his ear, "you mean me barking at you?"

"What can I say," Kazuha tugged at Scaramouche's hair to get a better look at his face. The man looked so fucking alive with the dilated pupils of his burning red eyes and plump lips in a smirk. The said smirk grew bigger at the sight of whatever kind of lustful face Scaramouche had right now, and Scaramouche's heart skipped a beat. "Maybe I prefer my men rough. And on something soft like my bed."

Both of them were nothing but dust, mere particles in the face of eternity and all the holy things, all the fake stars and fates written eons ago. And yet, Kazuha was everything: everything he could see, hear, feel, everything he had ever yearned for and could crave right now.

After all, he let it loose hours ago, the moment he gave Kazuha a second chance.

"Let's go see your fucking cat."

***

Kazuha really loved mornings like this. Half awake, barely acknowledging his surroundings but still feeling safe – secure, even – was a privilege he didn't have back when he was a wandering samurai. He missed his lifestyle and he was certain to go back to traveling one day, but for now... he just cherished what he had. A soft pillow and a comfortable blanket, the sun peaking through the blinds, something stomping on him, that was probably Yuki anyway, and-

The remains of his sleep disappeared as he heard a yelp, then felt the way mattress was further pressed down by something on his right. He heard more hushed noises by someone shifting on their sit.

He lazily opened one of his eyes, head reluctantly perking up to see what was the case.

"Yuki, was it?" sighed Scaramouche, holding the cat by the scruff of her neck. The gesture only seemed to be harsh, but then he brought his free hand to Yuki, placing her back legs in his palm so she wasn't just hanging in the air, and planted a small kiss on her forehead. "You are so lucky my first thought was not to concentrate Electro energy. You'd make an awful barbecue."

As Kazuha snorted, Scaramouche finally looked at him, gaze softening. How it was possible was a mystery to Kazuha – he just looked at the cutest animal alive moments before, and yet he went all gooey at the sight of him. How smitten was he?

"First of all, it was an awful joke, I swear I can do better," Scaramouche then rested Yuki in his lap in order to pet Kazuha's head, a small smile finding its way to his lips. "Second of all, did I disturb your beauty sleep? I'm sorry."

Words were stuck in Kazuha's throat, he opened his mouth and closed. He had no expectations for today's morning, but this? This was a whole experience: gentleness seeping through the fingers Scaramouche used to card Kazuha's hair, care with a hint of teasing laced in his voice. Kazuha could definitely get used to it.

Part of him even wanted to get used to it.

He sighed, holding up his hand to pet Yuki. The cat was purring, taking in all the attention to her persona.

Kazuha also stole another glance at Scaramouche. Maybe he went a bit too far yesterday for Scaramouche's neck looked like he was no less than mauled. The necklace of hickeys was decorating his collarbones, some of them wouldn't be concealed with the usual clothing – he'd definitely need a scarf for those.

"I'm only your second concern? So much for a gentleman! You wound me."

"Believe it or not, surviving an attempted murder makes you reconsider your priorities list. One is enough to make people go insane sometimes, and I have been through several."

Kazuha was no stranger to it. "One time I woke up to six Kairagi pointing their weapons at me. Quite an experience, if you ask me. I had no idea I could wield my sword that fast."

Scaramouche only hummed. Instead of contributing to the conversation, he scrunched down to play with Yuki. The corners of his mouth never went down. He looked at peace, so comfortable and cozy in the scenery of Kazuha's room.

Kazuha took pride in not having his apartment heavily decorated because "he needed not things to hold onto to keep his memories intact," but there was still so much of him in here. He was in the blinds he chose himself a get weeks ago at the market, in the low maintenance plant residing on his windowsill, in the black notebook on his night stand filled with poetry and childish doodles. Warm light entering the room, the smell of his bedsheets and the purrs of the cat – and Scaramouche was fitting in just perfectly.

"You know, when you said you had a snow white cat named Yuki I thought you were joking," Scaramouche told him as he rubbed Yuki's belly. She squirmed under his touch, then grabbed his hand with both of her front paws and bit him. Her attacks were never strong enough to actually cause pain, but Scaramouche made a face, "ow, little girl! So you were trying to kill me!"

"Of course she was. Didn't you say you wanted to see her yesterday? And then you paid her no attention."

The memories of last night flashed in his mind, and Kazuha couldn't fight the flush crawling up his cheeks. How Scaramouche went through the door like he owned the place, how he pinned Kazuha to the door the moment it was closed, stripping him out of his stupid jacket and stupid shirt. How he asked him if he could give them something more comfortable to wear: Kazuha was still wearing a t-shirt from yesterday. While Scaramouche also got a t-shirt for himself, it was long abandoned somewhere in the middle of the night. He didn't know whether he wanted Scaramouche to stay shirtless or wear his clothes – both options were intoxicating. He really had it bad.

"I had more important stuff on my mind yesterday," Scaramouche shrugged it off. Yuki bit him again, and he hissed at her. Good Lord.

"As in my dick?" Kazuha quipped, and the stare Scaramouche gave him made him snort again. It was so easy to rile Scaramouche up, and it made Kazuha want to do it more. He wanted to see all kind of reactions Scaramouche was capable of.

"As if! My thoughts were preoccupied with sake your friends from Inazuma sent you."

Kazuha recalled mentioning yesterday that Kamisatos had got him a bottle of sake for his birthday. Who was Scaramouche kidding, though? There was no sake degust yesterday, they hadn't even been to the kitchen.

Kazuha's remark was bullshit too. Kazuha stopped them yesterday, shook his head when Scaramouche's fingers found the waistband, indigo eyes asking for a permission. He fretted his "no " was bound to ruin the mood, but Scaramouche only nodded before leaning into a kiss again, hands roaming his chest without trying to glide down, enjoying things as they were.

Kazuha knew it was bare minimum, but Archons did he appreciate it. Whatever they could've had couldn't be much better than their heavy make out session. Kazuha had never kissed for this long in his life, searching and finding everything in Scaramouche's warm touches. He liked it when Scaramouche was on him, the man pinning him down to his bed as he kissed him senseless. He liked it when he regained control, moving them so he was sitting on Scaramouche's lap and sucking marks at his porcelain skin. He liked the noises Scaramouche made – fuck, they made him go absolutely insane. This felt so intimate already, and they hadn't even gone that far.

He liked it when they were making out like there was no tomorrow, and he liked it when they grew tired and settled for soft just lips kisses, murmuring compliments and talking about nothing, smiles and laughs to be shared only between two of them.

He liked it when Scaramouche went quiet, too, burying his face in the crook of Kazuha's neck, and he liked it when he realized the other man was sleeping. And when he felt strong arms snug around him tighter, he liked it too. He liked it all so much.

Yesterday was a fever dream: asking Scaramouche out on a whim, abruptly realizing he wanted to kiss him, hurting Scaramouche's feelings twice somewhere in the process – he thought he was a free-spirited, not happy-go-lucky person. But being with Scaramouche felt like jumping off the cliff, and Kazuha always loved the wind.

The idea of learning how to glide with all that massive luggage of his life experiences made him even more excited.

Scaramouche tapped his nose, "what are you thinking about?"

"Last night," Kazuha answered truthfully. Scaramouche hummed, locking their eyes together and raising an eyebrow. "It made me happy."

The choking sound Scaramouche made was followed by Kazuha's giggling. He wasted no time pulling Scaramouche closer, grabbing him by his waist so the other man had no other choice but to be on top of Kazuha, hands pinned to the bed next to Kazuha's shoulders. He grumbled something barely comprehensible along the lines of "shut the fuck up", and Kazuha felt his grin growing bigger.

Being under Scaramouche offered him a spectacular view, the view being the harbinger himself. Tender look in his eyes was framed by eye bags and smeared red eyeliner. And Lord, the color of his eyes in the morning shine, the lightest parts glowing periwinkle while the darkest resembled the finest of wines (maybe that was the reason Kazuha was desperately drinking in the sight before him).

His fingers shyly reached Scaramouche's face from where they were resting on the man's elbows. His thumb stroked lightly at the smeared make-up, and Scaramouche inhaled, lips parting. Kazuha bit his lower lip, the tips of his fingers now wandering, exploring the other's face: brushing upon his eyebrow, stroking down along his cheek bone, putting some pressure at the corner of his mouth.

"Kazu-" choked out Scaramouche, and Kazuha could feel the man's cheeks heating under his touch. His weight on Kazuha felt so, so good with the way Scaramouche's knees strangled his thighs, and Kazuha couldn't help it.

He reached out to brush some stray purple locks of his bangs aside, settle them behind his ear. They were secured only for a brief moment. As they fell down, Kazuha brushed them aside again, albeit this time his hand stayed there, holding the hair in place.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed, eager compliment finally leaving his lips.

"Oh Lord," flushed Scaramouche was a sight for sore eyes. He shook his head, trying to look annoyed but that adorable smile on his lips betrayed his every intention. "Is this how you make people swoon?"

"Do you swoon because of me, then?"

"Don't weave words into my mouth, boy," and he turned his head away from Kazuha, pretending to be petulant. "You'd love that very much, won't you?"

"I would," Kazuha shrugged, licking his lips. "I meant what I have said before, you know. About the night-"

He couldn't finish the sentence. Scaramouche crashed their lips together for a brief kiss.

"Shut up," he said, and Kazuha could only blink. "I've heard that the first time, no need to repeat that. You are embarrassing."

As Kazuha grinned, Scaramouche's gaze fell on Kazuha's mouth again. He ducked his head down for another quick kiss.

"But I relate to that, you know?" And there was another peck on his lips.

"To what?"

"To what you've said earlier, dimwit."

"Which was..?" And Kazuha scrunched his nose, eyes going up to look at the ceiling as if he was thinking hard, trying to find a vital piece of information and failing miserably.

"Now you are just fucking with me," Scaramouche huffed, looking unimpressed by Kazuha's dramatics.

"But I don't, I swear! Your beauty must have rendered me speechless, mind going blank. As I am trying to recall the bits of my possible speech, nothing but your eyes occupy my memory. The starry night's sky has been put to shame by those fathomless pools of yours."

Scaramouche just stared blankly at him for a moment or two. Maybe three. Maybe four, or maybe maths wasn't Kazuha's forte. But then Scaramouche leaned down, avoiding Kazuha's lips to press his mouth closer to his ear, whispering, "you said last night made you happy." Moment later he moved his head to Kazuha's right ear, their noses brushing as he did so – that was absolutely no accident – before continuing, "it made me happy too."

And Scaramouche nipped at his ear quickly before leaving the bed and Kazuha. He stood up, just like that, and now he was observing flustered Kazuha.

This was not supposed to be even half as hot as Kazuha thought it was. He really had it bad.

Before he could even say anything, or at least attempt to, Scaramouche bent down to the floor, seemingly grabbing something.

"Yuki, here you are! As the only sensible person here, you are the only one who can be of help to me. Say, does your owner have a spare toothbrush? I'm not willing to leave this household till I give him a proper kiss. I could also use your guide services, bathroom is the objective. Lead the way, kitten!"

And with that, cradling the cat closer to his heart, Scaramouche left the room. He was still talking to Yuki, but Kazuha couldn't comprehend anything as the man had closed the door behind him.

He fell back onto the pillows of his bed. His mind was turned to mush and he didn't even have strength to fight back the stupid grin on his face.

Jumping off the cliff... was a rather good simile for being with Scaramouche, he figured.

Because he was falling. And hard.