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Understand Everything

Summary:

“Sethos, I want you.”

This stops the desert dweller in his tracks, makes him still where he stood, and Scara is internally sighing with relief. It seemed like these words had finally gotten through to the man who was currently being oddly thickheaded.

Sethos turns his discerning gaze on Scara, and Scara doesn’t shrink away from it; he never has and he never will. He meets Sethos’s gaze head-on, keeping his eyes as vulnerable as he can, hoping he doesn’t have to say anything more, and for a moment, it looks like Sethos has finally understood him, recognition flashing in the emerald shading of them. Then, just as quickly, it’s gone, and Sethos shakes his head slightly, closing his eyes and exhaling quietly from his nose before looking at Scara again. Once again, there’s that trademark friendliness in them, and Scara knows he’s failed once more, disappointment welling up in him.

“Want me to what?”
-
Scara tries confessing to Sethos. A few times, actually, and he's mostly unsuccessful until he isn't.

Notes:

Inspiration struck, and I wrote this all in an hour, which is different for me. I haven't been able to write like this in a while now, and it felt good to do so after so long.

This has little to no plot, and it almost entirely vibes, just Sethos and Scara yearning ridiculously hard for each other to the point that it's sickening. It's definitely more flowery than my other works, so if that's not your thing, you probably won't enjoy this.

This is written in the third person, but it isn't omniscient, and the pov switches between Sethos and Scara pretty often. Hopefully, it isn't confusing to read.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

If you asked Sethos, he would tell you that Scara was acting weird. 

“I like you, Sethos.” 

This confession has become commonplace within the last week. Each time, the words were said with increasing amounts of sincerity and every time, Sethos gave him the same answer:

“I like you too.” 

Sethos would say in response, smiling in the way he was wont to do: much too large and much too affectionate. Every time he did, though, Scara would heave a heavy sigh and look away, seeming rather dejected. The first time it happened, Sethos’s brow furrowed, his smile weakening when Scara looked away from him, and he tried to figure out if he had said the wrong thing. How else were you meant to respond to a friend telling you they liked you? Sethos should hope that Scara liked him at least a little bit; how were they meant to be friends otherwise? From his understanding, friends usually held some sort of fondness for each other, and he didn’t see why Scara felt the need to declare his. If anything, it was odd that Scara had announced it so boldly. Sethos had thought he would have to weasel it out of the student eventually if he wanted to hear it. So, while he was grateful that he hadn’t had to go through the work, he was completely bewildered otherwise. 

Scara, for his part, was dejected. Sethos hadn’t understood him, and that was uncommon. Often was the case where Sethos understood him too well, leaving Scara unable to hide, and that was something Scara loved about him. He knew too much, yet not enough at the same time, it seemed. Perhaps if he tried again later, Sethos would understand this time. And thus began the routine in which Scara would assert his affection for Sethos, and Sethos would return it, just not properly. Not in the way Scara wanted. 

Every day for a week, Scara will, without fail, say, “I like you, Sethos.” Sometimes, he would add the words ‘a lot’ to it, as if that would help Sethos understand any better, and his behavior confused the desert dweller greatly. He wasn’t stupid, Scara knows, so why wasn’t he getting it? Was the Traveler lying to him when they told him that all he needed to say were the words ‘I like you’? Then again, Layla had thrown herself into a panic when she began running through possible outcomes of this decision for him, and where the Traveler had said ‘the worst he can say “I don’t like you”’, Layla had said ‘No, worse than that, he could misunderstand’ . The two had then gotten into a brief argument that wasn’t truly an argument – the Traveler could never be angry enough at Layla for that.

The Traveler had made the point that ‘keeping it brief and simple will keep from misunderstandings’ and Layla had shaken her head, stating that she’s misunderstood simple things plenty of times, much to Scara’s discomfort. He didn’t want to think that Sethos could be so dense – he’s proven himself time and time again to be the opposite – but he knew that Layla had a point. She wasn’t dumb either, and despite her tendency to overthink, he knew that there was merit to her words. Still, he had decided to go with the Traveler’s suggestion and keep his ‘confession’ short and honest. He likes Sethos, why say anything more?

Well, just a week later, Scara understands the why just a bit more intimately. He tells Sethos he likes him, and Sethos smiles in that fond way of his, and Scara knows he doesn’t understand. Still, he can’t bring himself to say anything more. Or, more like, he’s hoping that Sethos will understand just how important it is that it’s Scara saying things like ‘I like you’  daily. He’s even confessed when they were around others, and one would think that the shocked expression people wore would let Sethos know just how monumental this admittance was, but, alas, it was in vain. Sethos had merely felt a misplaced pride in the fact that Scara felt confident enough to profess his ‘friendship’ with Sethos around others. It was as endearing as it was exasperating. 

So, Scara decides to change things just a bit. 

“Sethos, I want you.” 

This stops the desert dweller in his tracks, makes him still where he stood, and Scara is internally sighing with relief. It seemed like these words had finally gotten through to the man who was being oddly thickheaded. 

Sethos turns his discerning gaze on Scara, and Scara doesn’t shrink away from it; he never has and he never will. He meets Sethos’s gaze head-on, keeping his eyes as vulnerable as he can, hoping he doesn’t have to say anything more, and for a moment, it looks like Sethos has finally understood him, recognition flashing in the emerald shading of them. Then, just as quickly, it’s gone, and Sethos shakes his head slightly, closing his eyes and exhaling quietly from his nose before looking at Scara again. Once again, there’s that trademark friendliness in them, and Scara knows he’s failed once more, disappointment welling up in him. 

“Want me to what?” 

Sethos asks him, and Scara heaves another sigh, looking away from the desert dweller once more. 

It couldn’t have meant what Sethos first thought it meant, of course. There was just absolutely no way, it was too preposterous. Scara would never say such a thing, and if he did, it wouldn’t be to Sethos. He’s told him multiple times that he likes Sethos as a friend, and that was good enough. Reassuring, even, because Sethos didn’t want to imagine not being friends with Scara. He was too – everything. Too interesting, too pretty, too smart, too nice, too mean, too much, too fast. Too fast for Sethos to keep up with sometimes, and he knows he’ll eventually be outrun, so for now, he clings. He’s not particularly good at doing so – he prefers letting go rather than holding on to something uselessly, but Scara makes him want to, makes him want to hold on. If Scara tells him he likes him, then he will say it back, as many times as the puppet needs to be reassured that he wouldn’t be going anywhere, even if he wanted to get rid of Sethos. He’s never been good at holding on, but for Scara, he’ll improve. 

“Try clarifying yourself. Make it impossible to be misunderstood.” Tighnari tells Scara when he asks, clearly speaking from experience. It’s confirmed by his next words, “That’s what I had to do with Cyno. He seemed insistent on not understanding me, so I made him unable to misinterpret my words and their meaning. He wasn’t dumb, just in denial until I made myself clear.” Scara swallows thickly as he listens, fearing having to do this exact thing. He didn’t mind being upfront – he prefers it that way, actually – but as time went on, he became increasingly more afraid of rejection for some reason. When Sethos would tell him, ‘I like you too,’ it was never a rejection but an affirmation, just the wrong kind. He was telling Scara, ‘I like being your friend, too,’ when what Scara wanted was ‘I like being with you. I’d like to be closer’. Scara wanted desperately to be closer. 

So desperate, in fact, that he ultimately takes Tighnari’s advice. “This doubt is probably something they share, so make yourself impossible to be misunderstood. If he doubts it even then, he’s being an idiot, and I’ll talk to him myself."  Tighnari had said, and the words gave him the bit of courage he needed to step towards Sethos and say, 

“I like you. A lot. More than just being friends.” 

Sethos stares at him for a long time after he says this, and Scara prepares himself. He’s not sure whether it’s rejection or acceptance he’ll get, but he prepares nonetheless. Still, it meant nothing when Sethos went on to ask, 

“You mean like…being best friends?” 

And he dares to sound hopeful as he speaks like he couldn’t possibly ask for anything more when that was all Scara wanted him to do. Now Scara is the one staring at him, eyes wide and mouth agape with disbelief. “Make yourself impossible to be misunderstood,” Tighnari had said, the words repeating in his head, and he breathed slowly to calm the anxious swooping of his stomach. If Sethos was hopeful about just being ‘best friends’, surely he’d be happy about this. 

“No, I mean like being closer than that. Sethos, I…I want to be close to you. So close that it hurts sometimes, because you’re just so pretty and so hard to look at, and I want to be close to you. I want to be able to hold you and press my lips against your skin and tell you everything I’d never be able to say otherwise. Sethos, I don’t just want you, I think I need you, and I need you to quit thinking that every time I tell you I like you, I’m saying I like being friends with you because when I say I like you I mean I like everything you do, everything you say, everything you are. I like you, I want you, I need you, and I’d like for you to like me, too. More than just being friends.” 

He says everything in a rush because these words have been building in him for months , from the moment he looked at Sethos and couldn’t imagine a day where he was without him. It was startling, the moment he realized that he was seeing a future with him and Sethos, that he was seeing a future at all. He had stopped thinking so far ahead so long ago, when he lost the closest chance he had to being a god, and no longer felt the need to, but Sethos makes him imagine it again, and it was startling. It was startling and scary and terribly exciting, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go on if Sethos didn’t see this future with him, so he began confessing. 

Everyday for a week, Scara will, without fail, say, “I like you, Sethos.” Sometimes, he would add the words ‘a lot’ to it, as if that would help Sethos understand any better, and up until now, his behavior confused the desert dweller greatly. Up until now, Sethos wouldn’t dare to let himself believe that Scara wanted to do more than just sit next to each other and share food and stories, and time. Sethos wouldn’t let himself believe that someone as Everything as Scara wanted to be more than just friends because Scara was Everything and Sethos was nothing to write home about. Leader of a temple, yes, but it was a dying organization that had seen better days. Past holder of a fragment of Hermanubis, but what did that matter now that he no longer has it? Brother to the General Mahamatra, and people ‘knew’ him, yes, but he was essentially no one, and he was happy. He didn’t want to be someone in the spotlight, was satisfied with being in the shadows, and couldn’t imagine that Scara would be the same because Scara was meant to be someone. Scara looked as though he was made to be in the spotlight; he stood out even when he didn’t want to, and Sethos would have been happy residing in his shadow if it meant being his friend, being close. He’s never been good at holding on, but for Scara, he’ll improve. 

Because Scara is everything, and Sethos wants to be everything with him. 

“Sethos?” 

Scara says when Sethos doesn’t respond for a long while, staring blankly at him. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, and he wrings his hands and he bites his lip, and tries not to reach out and touch Sethos to make sure that this wasn’t a hallucination from one of the many times he’s imagined himself saying these things as practice. He feels the desert dweller’s presence acutely – he always has – but his mind has lied to him before, and he wouldn’t put it past it to lie to him again. It’s incredibly good at being incredibly cruel to him. 

“Scara?” 

Sethos says finally, after long enough, after Scara was beginning to accept that Sethos might never answer him. When he does, Scara flinches, forcing his eyes back to Sethos’s. Even though it was hard at first, once he meets them, Scara doesn’t shrink away from it; he never has and he never will.

“Sethos?” Scara says again, hoping desperately that, this time, Sethos hasn’t misunderstood him somehow. He needs Sethos to see this future with him. “Please?” He asks except he’s not sure what he is asking for, but it doesn’t matter anyhow because Sethos knows him too well, and in the next moment, his lips are on Scara’s. 

Their kiss is slow but passionate, and they let themselves get lost in it. It doesn’t matter that they’re where people can see them, that they have prior obligations to attend to, because time loses its meaning when they’re wrapped up in each other, and nothing else matters when they are so close to each other. They kiss, and it’s everything Scara ever wanted; he feels like he’s never been closer to godhood than in this moment, and it’s a tragedy when they eventually pull away from each other. Scara couldn’t be closer if he tried, but it somehow wasn’t enough, and he knew Sethos felt the same because his eyes mirrored Scara’s: filled with the satisfaction of a satiated longing developed over months of silence about it. 

When they pull away from each other, they don’t manage to get far before Scara presses his forehead against Sethos’s, breathing in everything Sethos is. 

“I like you, Sethos. A lot.” He confesses once more, feeling like he is bursting at the seams with a happiness that only grows when Sethos chuckles. 

“I like you too, Scara. A lot.” He says back, and they’re happy, being each other’s everything.  

Notes:

I adore them.