#they deserve all the somft liddol ficlets

[atypicalacademic]

Ghare Bhaire

Words: 700

Skylar x Haider for @ollifree, from these hand-holding prompts: "only linking the pinkies together, not ready to let go completely" + "brushing against each other, linking fingers together for a second"

No warnings only somft.

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Ghare-Bhaire (Bangla): home and the world

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“Do you really have to go?” Haider’s voice was still rough with sleep, his mahogany eyes barely open as he tipped a spoonful of spice into Skylar’s cup of chai, before sliding it across the counter with a sigh. Dawn was barely breaking, the light a delicate, lotus-petal pink where it played off the flowers and vines clinging to Haider’s hand-painted walls. The beaded curtains parted at Skylar’s reluctant assent as he shuffled in, Salsa at his heel, dragging his satchel in one hand while he snaked the other around Haider’s waist.

“I can’t miss another ship.” Skylar reminded him, ducking a little so his horns wouldn’t graze the kitchen cabinets packed to the edge with tinctures and herbs, sugars and spices. Warming his hands over the steaming cup of chai, he leaned down to press a kiss to Haider’s forehead. “And you,” He poked the tip of his nose, “Should be getting some rest.”

“And let you go hungry?”

“I can feed myself.”

Haider laughed, catching one of Skylar’s curls between his henna-painted fingers. “Not like I can.” He silenced Skylar’s protest with a lazy kiss to his lips. “It’s true. You know it.”

Skylar pulled him closer, breathing in the incense-and-bauhinia scent that always clung to Haider’s hair, free from its usual confines and falling in soft dark waves past his shoulders. “Alright, I know it.”

Haider smiled against Skylar’s chest. “What happened to leaving at first light?”

Skylar pressed another kiss to his hair. “It’s still first light.”

Forcing himself out of Skylar’s hold, Haider placed the cup of chai back into his hands. “Drink up. It’s bad luck to leave something unfinished.”

“Huh.”

“Umma said so, all the time.” Haider murmured, busying himself with Skylar’s scarves, wrapping the bright red fabric snug around his magician to keep him from the chill. Salsa nuzzled at Haider’s knee, craning her neck for his attention. He petted her between the ears, not taking his eyes away from Skylar, leaning briefly into a lingering touch at his cheek.

Soon enough, too soon, Skylar would take to the road again, take with him the warmth that had shielded him from the winter’s chill for the months he spent at home with him. As much as Haider never begrudged him that, his wandering and his quiet, fervent curiosity, his heart still sank at the thought of sleeping alone, without Skylar’s soft frame pressed against his, his dark curls between his fingers, his eyes on him, deep and lovely, like twin forest pools in the dim light.

Fortunate, then, that it lives so long, that slow-burning flame in his chest, both his love and his patience, until Skylar returns, as he always does.

“I miss you already.” Skylar said softly.

“Miss my cooking, you mean.”

“Your everything. And more.”

Haider blushed, looking away.

“Sure I can’t ask you to come along?” Skylar perched his elbow on the counter.

Batting Skylar’s chest playfully with his scarf, Haider shook his head. “But then you’ll return to an empty house. We can’t have that.”

“’S that what you’re here for, Haidi?” Skylar set his cup aside to take Haider’s face in his hands. “To bring me home?”

“Among other things.” Haider kissed him again, and rested against the crook of his neck. If he let his eyes flutter shut, he could fall asleep right there. “I’m here to be here.” He said, half-to himself, his beard brushing against Skylar’s neck as he trailed kisses up to his jaw. “I’ll always be here.”

A brighter beam of sunlight startled them apart, and Skylar caught his breath, looking over his shoulder. “Fuck, now I need to run.”

Laughing, Haider followed after him to the door, handing him his satchel with a hurried goodbye kiss. Skylar caught his wrist to kiss his knuckles, green eyes finding Haider’s mahogany ones.

Damn those eyes. Bless those eyes.

“What do you want, hm?” Their hands brushed as they drew away, Skylar pausing to trace the henna-flowers painted onto Haider’s bronze skin. “What do you want, from over the sea?”

As if he needed to ask.

“You, silly.” Haider twined his pinkie around Skylar’s, linking their hands in the narrow space between the door and it’s frame. “Just you.”