#kaztae

His yellow eyes too had been singed into Kior’s mind for some time now. Unfortunately, Kaztae himself didn’t like them all that much. “People in these books don’t have yellow eyes!” he’d proclaimed some weeks after the hair-related realisation, waving some piece of romantic surface literature in Kiortel’s direction. 

“Because people on the surface don’t have yellow eyes, Kazazz,” he’d responded. That time Kior actually did kiss him, cutting off whatever insecure response he’d been about to make. His eyes were so round and luminous- practically golden more than yellow- and to be sensitive about something so objectively lovely was unacceptable. Kiortel told him as much when Kaztae pulled away, visibly trembling but smile radiant, staring at Kiortel as though he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. 

They talked for a long time after that, lying with their legs entangled and Kiortel’s arms wrapped around Kaztae. He was very aware of the latter’s skin glowing almost silver in the dull light, how soft his voice was when the taller drow spoke. Aware too that when Kazazz moved his right hand to brush Kior’s ear, side and hip, the latter’s skin tingled unexpectedly, but not in a manner at all alarming or unpleasant. 

Kaztae was quite lovely, really. Considerate when he wanted to be, surprisingly affectionate when so desired, he was the only person who actually cared about Kiortel’s issues with his family. After a time, the latter even stopped feeling ashamed for talking to him about those. It was a mark of the kind of person he was that Kaztae never told a soul any of the things they discussed together, and Kior adored him for it. 

“Hey Kazazz?” he murmured. 

“Yeah?”

“My arm is going to sleep.”

“Ah,” Kaztae rolled over. “Better?”

Kiortel shook out his arm. “Yeah.”