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Late afternoon was just starting to slide into early evening as Zhai’a made his way up the winding paths that led from the Lavender Beds ferry docks to the Lily Hills apartment complex at the top of the hill. The summer solstice had come and gone not even just a fortnight past, and the longer daylight hours would continue to persist for well into the next several moons yet—a fact of life the decidedly nocturnal Hearer had always had mixed feelings about. He loved how the warm summer air would linger well into nightfall, the scent of night-blooming flowers and the abundance of ripe produce at the markets, but rising during the hottest parts of the afternoon had never been the easiest way to start one’s waking hours. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the few days’ leave from his duties that he’d been granted, and for the time to spend it as he pleased with one of his lovers before duty called their attention away from each other once again.
The door to B’alith’s apartment swung open at the turn of the key in the lock, and the intoxicating smell of baking spices and simmering fruit spilled out into the hallway.
“Back already?” a voice that was not the one Zhai’a had expected to hear called out from the kitchen. “Did you forget someth—”
A Miqo’te with flaming red hair glanced up from the pot on the stove that had his attention. His ears pricked forward and a delighted smile broke across his face as he recognized who had just come in. “Oh, it’s you! Hello, Zhai’a!”
“Hello again, G’raha.” Zhai’a offered a shier smile in return before stooping to pull off his shoes. Though they had initially met under somewhat more dire circumstances, B’alith’s other lover had proven to be a good deal more outgoing than he or their mutual partner tended to be, and he’d still not quite gotten used to being greeted so enthusiastically. “Forgive me, I confess I’d forgotten that you were visiting.”
“I’m only here for one more night,” G’raha answered with an absent wave of one hand. “It’s back to Limsa Lominsa for me in the morning, and then on to Old Sharlayan again.” He flashed a cheeky grin at the other Miqo’te. “I have a room at the Roost for tonight, so I’m less likely to miss my airship. You’ll have B’alith all to yourself, don’t worry.”
Zhai’a tried to ignore the way that knowing smile made the suggestion of a blush rise across his face. He had never been an especially possessive or jealous man, but he had to admit he was just as glad to not have to have an awkward conversation about sleeping arrangements. “Speaking of… where is B’alith?”
“Down at the market in Wildflower Stalls. I sent him out for a few extra things he doesn’t seem to keep on hand; he should be back soon.”
“What are you making?”
“Blackberry compote.” G’raha turned his attention back to the pot, gave the contents another stir, appraised it with a practiced eye. “It’ll be the filling for a cake later, once it’s cooled.”
“It smells incredible. I recall B’alith mentioning that you were quite the talented baker.”
G’raha’s cheeks, flushed already from the heat of the cookfire, deepened with pleasure at the compliment. “Did he really? He’s not all that fond of sweets, so I’m not sure I trust his judgment on that.” He looked back to Zhai’a, tail swishing thoughtfully. “You, however… Come and taste this for me?”
Zhai’a left the rest of his things in the entry hall and padded across the ground floor to come stand beside the stove. The corner of the apartment that B’alith had designated as the kitchen was stiflingly warm, even to someone who tended to run cold as Zhai’a did. Summer in the Black Shroud often came with an oppressive humidity that made it feel as if one could not ever fully catch their breath, which B’alith had complained about at length more than once—the Warrior of Light was no stranger to summer heat, as a native of Southern Thanalan’s Sagolii desert, but he was notoriously irritable when it came to the combination of both hot and damp. Zhai’a carefully skirted around the Miqo’te at the stove and leaned over to crack one of the windows open; a gust of cooler air swept through the apartment, bringing some much-needed movement into the space and drawing sighs of relief from both men.
“Oh, that’s much better,” G’raha declared. He swiped a hand across his brow, leaving a smudge of dark purple juice in its wake. “Thank you, I confess I got so wrapped up in cooking that my sense of time got away from me a bit.” He dipped a clean spoon into the bubbling concoction he’d been fussing with and held it out. “Careful, it’s extremely hot.”
Zhai’a accepted the spoon and blew on it a few times before popping it into his mouth. The dark, syrupy sweetness of blackberries at their peak of ripeness bloomed across his tongue, accented by a hint of vanilla and the intensely floral local honey from the apiary just across the water from the Lavender Beds. He let his eyes slide closed and a purr of approval rise in his chest, savoring a taste that brought to mind cherished childhood memories of foraging in the most densely wooded patches of Jadeite Thick with his mother and sisters.
“Well, what do you think?” G’raha asked, a little nervously. “Your honest opinion, if you please—B’alith has remarked on your willingness to speak your mind a time or two.”
Zhai’a’s ears went back as he nearly choked on an embarrassed laugh. “I… ah, yes, I suppose I have been inclined towards strongly-held opinions a time or two.” He tapped the now-empty spoon against his lips as he thought. “It’s delicious just as it is, truly, but… have you considered the addition of something herbal? Basil, I think, if B’alith has any.”
G’raha looked at the pot, then back at him. “Do you think so? Maybe if I—”
“G’raha Tia, are you trying to seduce my husband with baked goods?”
The pair of Miqo’te at the stove both jumped at the sound of B’alith’s voice, laced with the note of playful challenge that they were both so familiar with, floating across the apartment. They both looked over to find their mutual lover standing in the doorway, a basket of groceries in one hand and his shoes in the other. B’alith looked back and forth between them, eyebrows raised expectantly as he waited for an answer.
“Well, if he’s not,” Zhai’a observed, “I might just have to try my hand at seducing him. G’raha’s baking skills are wasted on you, you know.”
B’alith’s ears twitched, and a series of emotions passed over his face in rapid succession before he finally burst out laughing. He deposited his shoes onto the wooden rack by the door and made his way over to the kitchen, eyes still bright with mirth.
“My neighbors do seem to like it when he visits,” he said as he set the basket of groceries down and pulled Zhai’a into his arms instead. “They like you too. I’m told that being in love has made me somewhat more pleasant company.”
A little thrill of joy ran up Zhai’a’s spine at how casually B’alith was able to declare his affections now—it was an intimacy that had been hard-won for them both, and he cherished every reminder of it. “Not too pleasant, I hope. I fear I might get bored if you ever go soft on me.” He rose on the balls of his feet to catch his lover’s mouth in a sticky, blackberry-scented kiss. “Can I help with anything?”
“I think G’raha and I can manage on our own.” B’alith kissed him once more before gently shoving him towards the part of the ground floor that served as both study and living room. “Why don’t you go put your feet up and relax, and I’ll get the kettle going once the stove frees up.”
“You’re sure? Perhaps I could—”
“Go rest!” B’alith and G’raha exclaimed in unison.
They looked at each other and laughed again. B’alith moved to stand behind his other lover, wrapping his arms around the shorter Miqo’te’s waist and murmuring something into his ear that Zhai’a could not quite make out. G’raha’s tail flicked; he made an exasperated noise and swatted playfully at B’alith’s hands with the wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the compote. Zhai’a watched them talk quietly for a moment longer before taking their advice, stopping to peruse one of B’alith’s many bookshelves before taking his selection over to his preferred spot on the sofa. He sent a quiet prayer out to Menphina as he settled in to read—B’alith deserved all of the happiness in the world, and Zhai’a was grateful to share his affections with someone who clearly adored him too.
Hopefully G’raha wouldn’t give out all of that cake to the neighbors before he left again.