#unknownshipping

Jumping at the sudden noise, you turn to see Hermos staring at you and Critias, his bright, golden eyes are wide and he’s mouthing something. You... think he just said ‘what. the. fuck.’

And considering the offended looks on some people passing by, you think you’re right. Pulling himself from the window, Hermos storms away, just seconds before opening the door to the cafe and making his way right to your table.

He grabs a chair from an unused table and pushes it up to your table, sitting down in the chair. He folds his hands in front of him on the table and gives Critias a very forced, very angry smile.

Critias makes no move to remove his hand from yours.

“Hi!” Hermos forces out through clenched teeth as his forces on the blond. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Enjoying a nice hazelnut latte with Timaeus.” Critias replies, being rather polite, though the smirk on his lips tells you that he is enjoying this.

“Ah, and I see that you are holding Tim’s hand.”

“Hermos... Critias...” You begin, but Critias speaks over you.

“Oh? Is that a problem? Do you not like seeing my holding the hand of my boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You raise an eyebrow.

“BOYFRIEND?!” Hermos screeches, catching the attention of the other people in the cafe. “Excuse you?! What do you mean ‘my boyfriend’!?”

You hiss out the redhead’s name, trying to get him to calm down, to catch his attention, but you seem to be forgotten as he glowers at the taller of the three of you.

Critias picks up his coffee with his free hand, taking a gentle, careful sip, before turning his attention back to Hermos. “Yes, my boyfriend. We’re on a date.”

“We are not.” You reply, but once again, you seem to be ignored

“Oh, oh, that’s fucking funny...” Hermos growls, quieting down after he realized that he had drawn attention to your table. “Wanna know why that’s funny?”

“Why?” Critias asks, egging him on.

“Cause Timaeus here is my boyfriend. We’ve been together for two weeks.” He smirks, leaning in close to say this to Critias.

You want to tell Hermos that you aren’t boyfriends, you are... somewhat dating, yes, but you wouldn’t go so far as to say you were officially boyfriends. Besides, you’ve only gone on two dates, and one of them was just you hanging out in the hobby shop, eating take out together while playing card games.

But you don’t say anything cause he will ignore you. It’s like you’re not even here, even though you are clearly the topic at hand.

The violet-eyed man just chuckles and pushes Hermos back, out of his personal space. “Listen, Timaeus and I have been in a relationship of sorts for longer, three weeks. Now stop thinking you have the upper hand here, little gecko.”

Hermos blinks, making a face. “Wait... did you just call me a gecko? Tim, did he just call me a gecko?”

You sigh loudly and stand right up, grabbing your coffee, glad it’s in a to-go cup. “Thank you for the coffee, Pendragon. But we are not really dating. Hermos, we are not technically boyfriends. I’m not sure where I stand with either of you right now, but at the moment, I am not putting up with either of your petty bullshit. Also, if you’re gonna talk about someone, one, don’t fucking talk about them like they’re not there. And two, don’t speak for them unless if they say so. Good day, gentlemen.”

You turn and make your way for the door, ignoring them as they get up to go after you.

Nope, no, not dealing with their childish antics, you’re just gonna go home and forget men for the rest of your life. Yep, that sounds like a good plan, at least for the evening.

--

Critias called Hermos a gecko cause his first time seeing him (this scene), Hermos is smacked against the glass with big eyes, like a gecko.

Hermos will have to come up with a nickname for him later.

“Roooooooxanne!” Came the loud voice from the bathroom. Even with the shower running and the door closed, Timaeus could still hear the ginger singing at the top of his lungs. “You don’t have to put on that red light! Walk the streets for money! You don’t care if it is wrong or if it is right!”

Groaning, Timaeus dropped his forehead on the table. He has been singing Moulin Rouge songs since he got in the shower, and he has been singing them at the top of his lungs! And yesterday it was the Phantom of the Opera he sang while he was making dinner! And Timaeus knew damn well that Hermos would never be able to hit that high pitch note from that one song, no matter how hard he tried.

It sent the golden eyed boy into a coughing fit, which he then made worse when he tried singing the next song.

This has been going on for two weeks now, Hermos had developed a damn love for the musical genre and he insisted on learning the songs. Yes, he could sing, but he couldn’t sing ALL of the songs, he wasn’t trained for that!

And it was driving his boyfriend up the wall.

He’s had to hear Hermos’ renditions of some many musicals over the past two weeks so many times, it was driving him batty. Les Mis, Mama Mia, Hairspray, so many damn movies, and even a few musicals that were just stage shows! There are only so many times he could listen to the humming of Popular before he hated the song for life.

Timaeus contemplated the idea of investing in ear plugs for a moment, before noticing it got quiet. The shower stopped, and so did the singing. Was... was Hermos done? Was he done singing for that damn movie?

“I’m singing in the rain~” Hermos happily sang as he threw open the bathroom door and Timaeus just let out a loud, suffering sigh. “Oh yes I’m singing~ in the rain! Oh what a glorious feeling! Hey Timaeus, the shower’s yours!” The ginger kissed his head, before loudly humming the rest of the song, not noticing that he was giving his boyfriend a headache. 

--

You really wish you hadn’t asked for Mr. Wyvern to tutor you, you should have asked for someone else to do it, or maybe asked Raphael to help, he always seemed to know what he was talking about in class.

But no, you had to set up a tutoring thing with your teacher’s aid.

You’re in his small office with him, well, more like a cubical in a room with a few other people from the history department. He’s sitting at the small table, typing up something on his laptop. There’s a cork board behind him, it has scraps of paper on it, a schedule for work, a list of staff phone numbers, but there were pictures tacked to it.

The first one to catch your eye was a photo of Socrates and Mana, wearing goofy looking sunglasses and hats at some tourist trap. Another one was a picture of Professor Hart and Mr. Wyvern in the library, both holding up a copy of Plato’s work. A third one was a smiling image of a younger Socrates, then another with him and Mana, where Mana is kissing the boy on the cheek.

The last one was a slightly larger photo of Mr. Wyvern, his brother, and Mana, all of them smiling. Though in this one, unlike the one with Professor Hart, Mr. Wyvern has both of his eyes. His right eye is there, a beautiful emerald, not the dark navy blue his remaining eye is.

“Mr. Ryoko.”

You jump, turning your attention to see that your sorta-teacher was done typing up the e-mail he said he had to write. He looked at you with a questioning look, before he glanced at the cork board. “Hm, anyway, you said you needed some assistance. What seems the be the problem?”

“W-Well, Mr. Wyvern....”

“Timaeus.”

“What?” You blink.

“Just call me Timaeus, I’m not a teacher, yet. And besides, I’m not that much older than you.”

You feel your cheeks burning at this and you nod, looking at anything but him. “R-right, sorry M- Timaeus. Uh, could you help me with this paper we’re suppose to be writing for next week?”

“Have you decided on which of the three topics to do?” He asks, grabbing a copy of the assignment sheet off his desk, looking at it.

With a sigh, you shake your head. “That’s the problem, I’m not sure which to write about, none of them seem to click in my head. And I don’t want to fail this essay just cause I got stumped on just picking the dang topic!”

Timaeus raised an eyebrow, before chuckling. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, I read over your last essay for last semester, and I think you can figure this out if you just sit down and look it over. It’s not that hard, we’re discussing the three main topics we’ve covered this lesson. You seem to know a lot on military history, why not just write the second choice. If you look it over, it does ask for you to explain the matters of military usage and such in that time period.”

You take the sheet and look it over. “Well... I suppose I can do that.” You say, handing him the paper back. He took it, but you felt his fingers brush against your own for a moment, and you feel the heat return to your face. Fuck!

“Is that the only think you needed help with?” Timaeus asks, looking at you with that lovely eye of his. Oh damnit, was it getting hotter in here...?

You wanted to tell him no, that you were fine, but you stuttered out that you needed help with the other class you have him in, where he’s actually a student with you. You ask about your philosophy class, wondering if he could help you, since you’re rather shitty with it.

When he says that he’d be happy to help you, you feel like you might faint.