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lumenizampel · 2 months ago

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wash off the reflection

Rook and Taash – both qunari, both with gender crap. But Rook seems to be more comfortable in their own skin. Taash will see the physical evidence of it. (Contains vague spoilers for Taash's storyline; featuring my they/them lesbian Rook, Mir Aldwir. Also on AO3. )

The Hossberg Wetlands is… so gross.

There isn’t much to see here. The view in Lavendel has been slim pickings – it’s just the blight and whatever has been released in the air. The air contaminant is definitely settling on Taash’s skin because–

Well! It’s just hard to explain. Taash already wants to go back just five minutes after stepping out of the eluvian. And they thought they’re already pretty gross. They can’t be blamed if they want to avoid dipping any body part in anything wet… but there’s a dragon to hunt and some darkspawn to kill.

So they’re still here. To dip their feet in blight. But then…

There's Rook.

(Rook. Is that even their real name? Taash guesses it isn’t. It’s still a pretty good nickname.)

Rook is too damn helpful. It’s pissing Taash off.

They’re always on their feet to help people. They’ve talked to wardens. Even spirits. Demons? Some other people? And while there’s something to adore in that…

They are dealing with a blight. A blight with a splash zone.

Something sticks onto Rook’s short cloudy hair. It definitely wasn’t clean. The water on their face (if it can even be called water) almost smudges his gold vitaar into a coppery smudge. And he’s doing a pretty good job pretending not to care… even if Taash is sure Rook won’t wear this armor out in a while.

Rook pierces another cyst of blight with their mageblade. Taash isn’t sure why they couldn’t just shoot a beam onto it. Isn’t that the better thing to do? But there goes another splash of blight stuff onto their skin.

“The blight really makes you feel gross.” Rook finally complains. They push some hair back like a gross hair gel – they’re trying and failing to get some of it off. “I could use a bath.”

A bath? Taash speaks their mind before they can stop it.

“Can I join?”

A pause as Rook figures out what that means. They end up chuckling. “What?”

“Can I join?” Taash repeats themselves. They’re in taamlok – they can ask for this. “I wanna bathe too. This stuff is gross.”

A long pause. What’s Rook thinking about? Definitely a lot of things.

But they’re just presenting a mutual opportunity to destress. Nothing more to it.

(Maybe there’s more to it.)

“Are you trying to have sex with me?” Rook does a good job of mimicking Taash’s tone. They’re standing there like they’re accepting their fate in the dirt and grime. “You could be more subtle, vhenan.”

All Taash could do is grumble. Especially over vhenan. They don’t need to know what it means – it’s endearment.

And this isn’t for sex. Definitely not.

Taash thinks there’s more to Rook than Dalish leathers and golden vitaar and they want to see it all. They seem to have all this gender stuff figured out. Way more than I have, Taash thinks. All that talk of clothing and presentation and feeling themselves in their own skin… There has to be physical evidence of it.

Right?

“But that’s what I want.”

“Ever heard of foreplay, Taash?”

How is Taash supposed to know that? They aren’t good at words – they breathe fire and not poetry. Their own gender does have to be spelled out to them (mostly) and all the words and terms get lost on what they really want. They’re smart but Rook knows smart better.

Rook would want subtle even if they don’t say it. They grew up around elves for fuck’s sake. They have to want subtle… right?

Back to the now. Taash could smell that musk of desire from them and it's unmistakable through whatever bog is in the Wetlands air. They’d be doing unspeakable things if they weren’t gross.

Fuck subtle.

“You’re boring.” The mystery goop is stuck between the seams of their armor – a struggle to take off and the unsexiest thing they can think of. “The dragon lair stuff? You don’t wanna continue?”

They hear Rook laugh awkwardly. Taash knows that’s just the sound of the flirting working. Rook is a little too expressive for their own good – so easy to read with how their eye glints and his brows furrow. He probably hasn’t been swept off his feet before.

“You’re right.” Rook chuckles after the long silence. “I’m not done with you just yet.”

“That’s my line! You’re the unsubtle one now.”

“It’s fun to tease you.”

Another beat of awkward silence. Taash fills it with their rampant imagination as they take out more darkspawn and “clean” themselves with slightly lighter wetland water. What is Rook like with all their armor stripped? With the luxury of identity made on their body?

There’s definitely worse problems to consider.

Like…

“Is there even a way to bathe in the Lighthouse?”

Rook laughs. “I will find a way, Taash. Don’t worry about it.”

Taash has never been more excited about a bath before.

“How did you get a bathtub here?”

“I bought it in Dock Town.”

Rook struggles to fill buckets of warm water for the bath. The steam rises and condenses on the edges. Taash could feel its warmth from where they're standing.

The pearly finish of the ceramic tub feels nice against Taash’s palms. The heat burns through their calluses. “Must be pricey.”

That might have been taken as a slight because Rook is quick to be defensive. “Varric pays me, you know,” Rook says as if they were accused of a crime. “I didn’t use our collective money for this.”

“M’not saying anything,” Taash says. “Pearl is pricey. Shines nicer and all that. Didn’t know you got expensive taste.”

“We went to a bath house before. Varric wanted to reward me.” Rook was quiet for a while as they poured another bucket of hot water in the tub. Taash doesn’t know Varric that well... But they also don’t go to the infirmary that much. “The pearl was nice. It kept the water hot.”

Taash isn’t going to unpack all that. Rook sounds like he felt like mentioning it but doesn’t feel like talking about it fully. They don’t know how they picked that up.

So they just grumble in assent. Best they can do.

There’s a way wider but shallower tub right beside the warm bathtub. It’s probably meant to wash off actual dirt before soaking in the warm water. The condensation drips at the edge of the linen lining and back at the rest of the wooden tub.

Taash could smell… something from it. Rosebuds? It’s different from the Arlathan mint they’ve started associating with Rook.

They don't even let sink in that they are in Rook’s room – Solas’s meditation chamber in the lighthouse. The whole room is covered by the teal hue of the aquarium that’s in there somehow. There’s light reflecting off of the trinkets scattered on desks and tables…. flowers and knives and jars of vitaar and weird globes that spin on their own.

Flowers – the Brona’s bloom that Rook (and Taash) likes. A banner with the iconic Veil Jumper triangle tiles that glow in gold against teal and orange embroidery. A couch and table that’s pushed to the side and a table of scented candles that are lit and a little too strong for Taash’s senses.

There’s no bed. Is it really just the couch? They sleep like this?

Maybe that’s why Rook likes their room. They’ve been sleeping there a lot. Rook insists it's because Taash is warm… but now they know why. They make a mental note to wander around the lighthouse and see if there’s a better bed for him.

They snuff out two of the strongest candles on the set. They’re here for a bath.

“Strip.” Taash makes a move as Rook finishes up filling the bath. Tries to pull off Rook’s scarf and watches leathers resist. “I’ll clean you up.”

Rook stiffens. “You sure?”

“I’m the one asking.” Pulls again. The scarf comes off to reveal the skin of his neck. “Just get naked.”

There’s a lot of buttons on Rook’s clothes that Taash undoes. Wading through Veil Jumper triangles stitched lovingly even if they’re sloppy. They remember Shathann teaching them about ladder stitches and back stitches and cross stitching.

It was boring. But it felt good to stab something.

Rook has set aside a separate bucket of soapy water for their clothes so it’s left soaking on something. The belt comes off. Shiny. The cummerbund follows. It’s heavy – it’s wet. The leather vest soon followed. Thrown into the sudsy bucket without much applause to a job well done of protecting its wearer.

“Taash, I can clean myself.” There’s more stitches – embroidery – on his inner shirt. Unscathed. Did Rook embroider these plants? They’re green and gold – Rook’s colors.

“What if I want to clean you?” The stitches are pushed away as the shirt comes off little by little. “Just be good and shut up and let me scrub you down.”

Rook is quiet. Taash can guess they aren’t used to being taken care of… or resisting. Taash does quick work of undressing themselves – the night becomes less of cleaning up and more of discovering and filling the blanks.

But the bath sounds appealing. More so with the handsome qunari with them.

So they will undress. No shame in nudity.

Both of them are left with their smallclothes that are fortunately still fairly clean. Now that’s a view Taash can appreciate.

Rook looks…

Not bad.

Good.

Unexpected. Different.

There’s a lot of scars atop tattoos that are also covered by vitaar. The gold of eyeliner and vitaar reaches and blends into the lines of tattoos and scars as if they’re made for each other. It’s just weird to see Rook like this. And Rook does seem to agree with how awkwardly they’re standing.

It’s fine. Rook is fine. They’re definitely not that good-looking. It’s not like that tattoo on their chest is anything Taash has seen peeking over their shirt before.

They’re here for a bath. Right.

Stuff was set at the side for the bath on a nearby chair. There’s a prepared scrub brush. A bottle of something – oil? A bar of soap… and a ball of something powdery and chalky beside it. There’s a dipper in the shallow tub for the presumed cleaning and much of the surface dirt comes off of Rook’s skin with a single warm pour from it–

“Hey!” Rook stands up before their smallclothes get wet, moving closer to the soap bucket. “Give me a moment.”

“Hurry up!” Taash almost laughs. “Water’s getting colder!”

“I’m a mage, and you breathe fire.” There’s a smirk in Rook’s voice. They unhook the clothing on top of their chest. Breasts reveal their shape like magic as the binder is thrown in the laundry bucket. “Let’s take our time to clean up. We rarely get the opportunity.”

Taash couldn’t help but sigh. “You’re right. Go be naked or whatever.”

“You’re acting like you don’t enjoy the view.” As if to torture, Rook slows down as they pull their bottoms down their thigh. As if Taash couldn’t see weight pushing against it before or the coarse hair bordering the goods already. “I know you like it.”

They do.

“Well I’d like it now.”

He moves to show. Sets a leg aside somehow. And then Rook diligently and obediently returns to their place… crosses their legs and looks up.

“Foreplay, foreplay.”

Whatever. They’re getting a feast for their eyes already anyway – Rook’s whole chest is bare.

They smirk. They know what’s coming next.

Yes, more water.

Just being rinsed by warmer water – Taash blows on it a little bit to regain its heat – seems to do enough relaxing for them. They sigh against the warmth of it and stop as the cold begins to prickle against their skin.

“That feels nice.” Rook sets up a stool in the shallow tub, presumably too tired to stand up for all this. Taash can work with that. It reminds them of how they bathe back home – a dipper and a pail with warm water and seated on the floor or on a stool. “It’s been a while.”

The bar of soap almost melts in Taash’s hands. It’d be good enough for Rook’s hair. The suds seem bubbly enough.

“I’m surprised we don’t bathe more often.” The seated position is perfect so that Taash can reach every nook and cranny of Rook’s scalp. “Blight is really gross.”

“Not really a lot of time for it. Half baths are quicker, and not everyone has time to get water from…” Rook thinks about it. They give up and shrug. “Well, wherever.”

“You still look hot when you’re stinky.”

“So you’ve been staring? You could at least tell me if I look like an idiot.” Rook suddenly looks embarrassed now through their laughter. Taash bets he’d be covering himself with his hands if they weren’t taking a bath. “Wait, I know. I do. I’m sorry I don’t look good.”

The water underneath them settles into a mirror finish and Taash couldn’t help but stare at the reflection of Rook.

A reflection.

Taash doesn’t see a lot of qunari outside the Lords. So they just thought qunari is just that – rare. Taash knows maybe four qunari that their mom approves of… and they all look the same. Typical Qunari women all look the same. Big and tall but slender. No dar-saam in sight. Still so distinctly qunari. There is a role they play and they look the part and play it well even outside the Qun.

Taash can’t put their finger on why Rook is so… familiar? It may be the stature. Rook’s wide shoulders and bulky physique is even more evident without their leathers. But almost all qunari are like that… so maybe that’s not it.

Rook is Dalish. Still qunari… but still Dalish. It somehow shows in the way they handle themselves. A shame so distinctly elven that is difficult to describe. It isn’t just on the outfit and not just on the tattoos – not quite vallaslin. Not the halla etched on their skin.

“You look good.” Taash returns to rubbing suds into his curls and the edges of their horns. They can feel the blight goop between the soap – not a good feeling. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Sorry.” Rook looks up at them. Smiles like a kid. “You look good too, by the way.”

And somehow it works on Taash. They’d die before they admit it. “Thanks.”

“What a sweet-talker you are.”

“Shut up.”

A moment of silence passes as Taash washes off the soap. Bits of gold come off as the runoff goes to Rook’s face, but it doesn’t entirely wash off clean. Part-makeup and part-vitaar if Taash can guess. Bits of black also flow down Rook’s eyes – a mix of mascara and eyeliner. Not the most long-lasting makeup… but the vitaar probably helps its longevity in the field.

Rook breaks the silence. They’re still staring. “Can I clean you up, too?”

“Later.” Taash can safely say they’re excited for that. They know how Rook’s hands feel. But there’s a task that needs to be done right now. “You first. Stay still.”

“Can you get me the oil? For the vitaar.”

So that’s what the bottle is for. Taash doesn’t need to wait before pouring a little bit on their own palm and rubbing it on Rook’s face themselves.

“You okay?”

“Nothing. Just…” Thumbs massage around and over Rook’s eyes. Taash can feel the last remnants of the makeup and vitaar come off under their fingertips. “I’ve never been washed this thoroughly before.”

The gold looks muddy once it's an oily smudge on Rook’s face. It’s funny. They also look wrong without all of it.

“Wait ‘til I get to the rest of ya. You rinse this off with water?”

Rook nods as the water emulsifies – emulsifies? – the oil into milky water. Their bare face makes every feature so much more noticeable. The eyelids and the nose and the eyebrows…

“Is there stuff left on my face?”

Taash blinks. “What?”

“You’re staring.”

Were they? There’s a lot to stare at.

Is this what museums feel like? When you find a painting that just calls to you?

It’s fine. Nothing special. It’s just the gold.

Just gold?

“Nothing.” Taash lies through their teeth. As if they weren’t just counting every speck of gold that got washed down. “I thought your brows were drawn on.”

Rook laughs. They’re not buying that at all. “I wish they were.” But they’re playing along. There are strands of eyebrows just sticking out of their prescribed shape. “They never seem to stay in place.”

“You’re not doing a good job.” They furrow even more as Taash pinches on Rook’s cheeks. Just making sure there’s no more paint. “I can always tell that you're angry ‘cause of it.”

There’s always a glimmer in Rook's eyes. But they always seem to shine more when it’s directed towards Taash. “You like it?”

Does Taash like… what? Like how their brows furrow when they’re mad? When the skin between them wrinkle when something about the gods is brought up? How they bite their lip or how the gold between their eyes become more visible when they’re deep in thought?

Or how much Taash knows all this somehow – knows what makes Rook tick and scream and move?

Hard to say what exactly.

But they’re sure about something.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

Rook laughs. Heard so much that it’s added to the list of Taash’s favorite sounds – a list none of them knew existed. “Lots of things to be mad at.”

“Like?”

“Ghilan'nain, Elgar'nan… Solas.”

Of course.

“Solas.”

Suddenly there was nothing to laugh at. They’re just two non-binary qunaris hanging around a shallow tub. Taash notices Rook’s eyes follow the waves of the light dancing against their walls. It’s as if they’re all suddenly realizing the situation – the place.

A place where Rook can’t even get a decent bed – or a bath – without much outside intervention. So much for this lighthouse. So much for the Veilguard’s base. They’re crashing the place. Everything feels like those spikes they put on walls so birds don’t perch on them. The couch. The fish tank covering everything in a sickly blue green.

“Is he here? Is that idiot listening?”

“He doesn’t really comment on things I do, Taash.” Rook stays as still as possible as Taash gives their back a quick but thorough scrub. Just to finish off this clean-up. “He’s a voice in my head, but he’s more like a whisper.”

“If he ever comes out, I’m beating the shit out of him.”

“That’s a bad idea.”

“Why? He’s just a scrawny man!”

“What is it with ‘elven god of lies’ that doesn’t make sense to you?”

“He can’t lie to me if he's dead on the floor.”

More of that laughter from Rook. Taash decides right on the spot they’ll chase it if needed. “I wish you’re in my head to beat him up, but I’m sure you won’t like it.”

“You haven’t even asked me yet!”

“It’s like asking you if you’d like me if I was a worm.” There’s a prickle of the cold air beneath Rook’s skin. They’re itching for that bath. “I already know the answer, you know?”

“I’d just be a worm with you. We can hang out. Eat dirt. Whatever worms do.” Taash shrugs. Pours more warm bath water on Rook’s shoulders. It will do for now. “See? I would say yes to being in your head or whatever.”

A breath – or a relieved sigh? – escapes Rook. They don’t have a witty retort for this one. Nothing but a soft smile and a relieved stare. As if it answered something. Or maybe it gave him some comfort.

Taash isn’t about to guess. If it helped…

Whatever it is, they hope it did.

“My turn.” Taash puts down the water dipper and pulls on the strings of their own smallclothes. “You said you wanted to clean me up?”

A pause. Rook picks up the water dipper. And then turns around as Taash was about to pull off their bottoms.

“Right.”

Right. There’s nothing wrong with being naked around Rook. This is a bath. They’ve been in bathhouses before. They’ve been naked around other people before.

Something about how Rook’s stare lingers – follows – the path of their bottom to their legs is making this feel different.

It’s nothing.

Probably he’s just as curious as they are.

That’s got to be it.

There’s not much to hide. Taash is proud of the body they’ve built. It’s not like Rook’s but it has served them well and that’s all that matters to them. And they know they’re attractive.

And they know it’s making Rook’s head turn... among other things at least.

“Lots to look at?”

“I do need to look a little closer, yes.”

“For what?”

“Dirt. Aren’t you here to be cleaned up?”

“Mhm.”

Yep. Taash still got it. That’s basically Rook’s eyelashes fluttering.

Taash sat down and Rook got to work very quickly. Removing Taash’s braid was first in order. They rarely put their hair down around other people – it just looks too feminine. At least it’s out of the way when it’s up.

But Rook has makeup. It doesn’t change who they are. Why does hair matter? Taash also wears eyeliner and the tiniest glint of blue eyeshadow – it just feels right. It’s not supposed to be girly. They don’t wear big girly eyeshadow or make their face look softer or wear bold lipstick.

“Taash.”

Rook wears lipstick. They wear it so often that Taash sees chips of it on the corners of their lips as they walk closer with a comb and some water. The chips are black and Taash has memorized how it feels – it’s dry sometimes and sticky sometimes. They know because they feel it against their own lips when they ki–

Cold water washes over their shoulders and it makes Taash almost jump.

“Hey!”

Rook doesn’t seem guilty of their little prank as he moves in front of them. The way their eyes narrow and smile as they laugh is cute. “Just making sure you’re still here.”

“I’m sitting right here. Where’s my bath?”

“No!” There’s a hint of playfulness in Rook’s tone. “You’re getting bored!”

“I’m not! You’re putting words in my mouth again.”

“Stop staring off into the fucking fish tank and look at me when I wash you, then.”

Oh.

Wow.

Alright then.

Taash is here for that. To look… and to get washed.

So that’s what they do – watch. And Rook finally pours warm water onto their hair – releasing a breath Taash didn’t know they were holding. Rook is standing so close against them even as he moves behind them to tend to their hair. They feel certain parts of his waist and breast graze against the skin of their back. It’s almost ticklish. Taash didn’t know they were ticklish.

Obviously Taash can’t watch Rook when the person is right behind them. They settle with what little reflects on the pool below them both. Rook’s brows are furrowed as they scrub on their horns and the scalp around it.

It’s relaxing – to be tended.

Cared for.

Don't mind the Dalish aspect of it. It can be learned. Always a lot of stuff to learn. About the world and themselves. Other groups of people. Their companions and–

Rook.

Lots of things to learn about Rook. Lots of things Taash already knows about Rook.. The gender. The body. The way they cover that body. Set dressing and flavorings and sounds and smells. Their identity–

“Is Rook even your real name?”

He stops. The question definitely caught Rook off-guard.

“I don’t use my real name. It’s…” The slightest graze of the dipper against their shoulder. Rook doesn’t know what to do. “Let’s just say I just don’t like how it feels. It’s my name, but it feels odd when I see or hear it used.”

Taash has heard of that kind of thing before. It’s very common with people like them – different. Queer. The old name is like a shed horn – doesn’t quite fit the same after your horn starts growing back and making a new shape.

But ‘not quite fitting’ is different from hurt. Discomfort is not… it’s not hurt.

“Does it hurt? Or it’s just strange?”

“It’s just weird. Like you said about your pronouns, it’s like armor that doesn’t quite fit right.” Rook’s hand is warm against their shoulder as he finally stands and returns in front of them. The view is magnificent. “Can you take off your piercing?”

Rook picks up the oil – presumably to also wash their eyeliner off. And Taash obeys the order and they take off the piercing and put it aside. It’s nice to smile and sit and just let Rook do their caring. The oil is slick but strangely not thick against their face. They don’t have much eyeliner or vitaar to wash off.

There’s a thin layer of skin on Rook’s palms that’s rough but strangely comforting. It scratches as it travels down their neck. It does a good job of scrubbing dirt at the back of their ears without a brush. Taash feels clean. New.

“I can still tell you, you know.”

“What?”

“My name.” Rook’s figure comes into view. It’s like looking at them after they just woke up – hazy and a little blurred. “Just promise to still call me Rook–”

“No. Don’t.” Taash stops that thought before it develops. Their curiosity cannot hurt Rook. “Ignore me. Just be comfortable.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind, Taash–”

“Yes.”

A pause. A really long pause. Rook makes a face as they resume scrubbing their neck. “Alright, then.”

There’s a hint of a sigh there. Taash isn’t going to question it any further.

Rook just focuses and returns to washing Taash’s hair. No one has done this before for them. And as Rook does it – rubs the suds in the scalp…. It’s nice. As if Rook reached into their skull to scratch an unreachable itch. They don’t even notice the soap. The suds and the washing. Their hair feels lighter despite the water.

Taash opens their eyes to see Rook –

Close.

They’re so close.

So close to touch. So close to just–

Hold.

Sex is so easy. Taash is mentally gnawing their teeth. The wait is so long. Rook is right here. Right here!

Taash grabs on to Rook’s waist on both sides and pulls them a bit closer. And Rook doesn’t flinch or react – they even hum to themselves. They just watch the chest rise and fall as they breathe. Watches the tattoos move as they do. Map out all their scars and decide where to–

Wait. What’s that?

There is a faint scratch of a scar under both of Rook’s breasts and the teal light almost shines against it like a gold stitch. They almost look like a line of stars. And Taash feels like doing more than stargazing.

“What’s this?” Taash doesn’t hold back on inspecting it further – it’s smooth yet faint against the calluses on their fingertips. “Where’d you get these?”

“Oh!” Rook is still washing their hair. Gladly they’re at the rinsing part. “That’s just surgery.”

That’s said a little too casually. “Surgery?”

“I tried getting my… breasts reduced,” Rook starts. He seems… embarrassed? “You know, for the look. But I didn’t go all the way, so they just… grew back.”

And maybe for good reason. Taash doesn’t know half the things he said. “What? That happens?”

“Yeah… I was planning on trying again, but all this happened, so…”

Rook lets all that trail off into silence and continues the washing. He lifts their arm up. Gets the underside of the arm. Scrubs diligently like their life depended on it.

Taash isn’t going to overthink that. It’s Rook. They will figure it all out. He doesn't need their comfort. Rook gets to the other arm. Scrubs. Washes.

Kneels. They splash around in the water. They put their hands on their left thigh. On Taash’s inner thigh.

It’s there for longer than a moment.

“Do you feel weird when people call you Evataash?”

Left thigh straightened. Rook’s hand tickles the crook of their knee as they scrub a nook they always forget to clean. Something tingles.

“It’s… It’s a nickname.” Taash looks away. Are they embarrassed? The flowers look pale by the aquarium light. “Some people think it’s my fuller name. It might as well be. Everyone calls me that. But Taash just feels nice. It’s actually me.”

Rook chuckles. They’ve moved on to cleaning their calves. “I mean you are my little dragon.”

“Laaaame.”

“You like it like that.”

“I dunno why. You’re boring.”

They didn’t seem offended by it. Either Rook doesn’t think it’s serious or they genuinely don’t mind being called that. “With the blight around Thedas, boring can be good.”

Rook was quick with cleaning off the dirt on their feet. They stand up. Rinses off all the soap and dirt. Smiles.

“Done.” Rook pulls Taash up. Now they’re two naked qunari standing around. Rook smirks as he catches Taash looking. “Now let’s not make the water get any colder now, yeah?”

“Yeah. Right.”

The water is spitting hot in the large ceramic tub by the time Rook dips their toes in. No way Taash is letting them bathe in cold water after they’ve been scrubbed so clean they feel like a newborn.

And Rook enjoys the heat. The way their eyes close and their head leans back against the pearl is… satisfying? A job well done for both of them. The tub is big enough for the both of them and Taash just watches Rook sigh against the heat from across them.

They sound so pleased. So satisfied…

Taash can tell they have a few minutes before Rook succumbs to the heat and passes out. They have to do something. What were they here for again? To just bathe?

Throw that in the trash. Taash knows what they’re here for. To look–

No. That can’t be right. They’ve looked too much. They’ve had enough of just looking. They’re here to claim–

“You can call me ‘Mir’ if you want.”

Huh?

Taash scoffs. That was so sudden. “What happened to ‘I didn’t like my real name’?”

“It’s just a nickname. ‘Rook’ is just a nickname, too.” Rook– Mir’s eyes are closed. Taash can almost imagine the gold glint on them. “I’d love it if you of all people actually called me by my real name.”

“Why? Why me specifically?”

“Same reason you want to tell your mother about the real you.”

What is the reason?

Rook – Mir – used to not care about that. Coming out. They kept saying it was stupid. That most people just don't deserve the real you. They’ve watched as Mir endured several assumptions about their identity and they just sat back and did nothing. It isn’t worth a fight, Mir would often say. And they’re right – they ask so much from the people they often talk to that a simple word isn’t worth ruining potential help.

But it makes Taash upset when people do that. So they correct other people several times for Mir’s sake. Refer to Rook with masculine or gender-neutral terms or you will have worse things to worry about.

It’s just different from coming out to family… from a loved one. People close to you have to know their new self. The people you love deserve the real you–

Oh.

Oh! Has Taash been this slow before?

They lean their face against the tub. Do they feel hot? Is it the literal fire inside them or something else?

“Mir is nice.” It came out a little quieter than Taash thought. “And I can call you that?”

“I am asking you if you can call me that, so yes.” And Mir’s voice is even quieter. So much that the rumble of the aquarium beside them seems louder. “It sounds nice when you say it.”

Mir is falling asleep. They can hear the drowsiness thicken their voice. Quick, Taash thinks, do something–

“Don’t fall asleep!” Taash sits up and paws their way to Mir. They’re obviously kicking up water but it barely matters now – the chase for a different kind of warmth has come to a head. They hover over Mir to pull them up from sinking into the somewhat deep water.

There’s that warmth against their skins. Wet. Warm. It’s calling.

Taash leans Mir up against them – a bit awkward for a half-embrace but it’s better than nothing. The tub is a little too big for the both of them but Mir settles closer. They slot together perfectly. Mir’s broken horn makes way and they’re close and warm against Taash’s neck.

“I’m tired. Can’t blame me.” Mir moves little by little as if ensuring their perfect fit. “Chat me up more, then.”

Every whisper is rendering Taash crazy but they chuckle and laugh through it. They grip on Mir’s back with the arm around him like they’d sink otherwise. “You happy in life right now?”

“Yeah. This is nice. I like this.” Mir’s arm wraps around Taash’s back like they’re an oversized live stuffed animal. “Gods aside, I like that you’re here.”

“What do you like about me being here? Make me feel good about myself.”

“You’re a shoulder to lean on.”

Huh.

Not the answer Taash expected.

“What else? Don’t be lame.”

“I care about you, so I like seeing you around.”

“Lame.”

“You change a little bit of yourself everyday. I see you grow into a person you will enjoy being yourself in.”

“And you like that?”

“It’s nice. I know I’ll like the you that comes out after it, and everything else after. You get me?”

Taash… doesn’t get it. At all.

Doesn’t get why Mir is like this. Why they always seem to want something… different? It is a desire but it feels strange. Is it a desire to touch? An admiration of the body–

The water stills and Taash sees them both on the reflection even if the ripple distorts the image. And then it hits.

An admiration.

That’s where it all went wrong. This isn't a desire at all. That isn’t what Taash is smelling or feeling.

It’s adoration. Admiration. Liking the reflection. Rook – Mir – is someone they dreamed themselves of being. Liking someone for the look and the skin. They like themselves but they like Mir better. It doesn’t make any sense – it’s hard to describe but it isn’t lust. It’s not quite a desire of the body like they usually feel. They like the skin they’re feeling against their palm but they don’t want Mir like how they first thought.

Why? On what way? Is it boring? Is it normal? Nothing about Taash is normal. But Rook seems so… okay?

But they’re the same. How normal and lame and boring it is. How dull this is. A bath. Where would Mir be now if it wasn’t for the blight? If it wasn’t for Solas? Probably doing Veil Jumper things in the forest with elf stuff. And they never would have met.

But they’re the same.

Mir went through a lot as well to be the person that they are right now. The difference is that Taash wasn’t there to witness it all. Mir saw the way they stumbled. The way they cried. The way they mourned and broke and got back up. Rook already went through a lot. They’ve built themselves already – Taash is just picking up the bricks now. But they know they’ll end up with the same thing.

They’re the same.

And Taash kinda likes it like that.

Unfortunately.

“You also kiss good, but you don’t need to hear that.”

The silence must have been confusing for Mir. Taash appreciates the slight change of topic – anything to distract from this stupid realization. “You think I kiss good?”

Mir answers without thinking about it. “Yeah.”

The realization that this person Taash is willing to be a fool for – this qunari with the same hair color and same broken horn and same-ish body type – is someone they more than like–

This is silly.

Rook is just right here.

Taash was going for a sniff – not like they need a closer smell to know how he’s dozing off at this point. But Mir’s neck is a little too inviting… and they’re very hungry.

Then a kiss. Mir did say they like how they kiss. Taash gives him just that. Mir kisses back – they haven’t passed out quite yet. It was soft. It feels different after the realization. But also maybe because they couldn’t taste his lipstick.

And before Taash knows it – they feel the skin of Mir’s neck against their teeth. It resists as it often does. They can taste the soap and the ink on the tattoos… themselves if Taash closes their eyes. They smell and taste so similar nowadays and it doesn’t help now that they’re using the same soap.

Mir groans as he feels Taash’s teeth let up and sink again on his shoulder. Not quite to draw blood and Taash knows it doesn’t hurt like a wound. All of these will leave marks either way. And that’s good. A little more to add on the vitaar and the scars and the tattoos. Decoration for the temple that is Rook’s body.

“Taash…” Rook smiles against the bite somehow. Laughs as if it’s ticklish. But the fatigue is winning and Taash doesn’t really want to hurt Mir any more than is pleasurable. Taash knows Mir like this but they know his limits.

The frustration is out of their system anyway. They rise up and break away with their arm still around him and Rook just smiles like they just heard something entertaining. His eyes are still closed – it’s somewhat endearing.

“I’m still here.” Taash pulls Mir closer. “You can rest if you want.”

“Mhm… Thank you.”

So polite even as he’s slowly falling asleep. “You’re silly. Just nap.”

It’s not a good idea to fall asleep in a bathtub with warm water. But for Rook… Taash will let it slide.

At least this just gives them time to think. As if they haven’t been thinking about them for the past few minutes already. Shit like ‘what would it be like if I never met Rook’ or some silly crap–

Fine. It’s true.

They’re stupid. This is all so so stupid.

But they’ll take stupid over not meeting Mir at all. Turns out that it’s really hard to think about those kinds of scenarios when the person in question is peacefully dozing off beside you. For now… they just need a quick path to dry Mir off so they can sleep in a dry place.

And after that? They can go back to pretending that all this – the bath and the kisses and Mir – is just a distraction to make them feel better about themselves. Because what else is all this if not like their usual intimacies with others?

That’s what Taash does best after all.

Be confused and feel like a fool.

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