Chapter Text
“Quit moving.”
“Ow!”
Scaramouche huffed under his breath as he tried to put the last pin in Ajax’s pants. He needed to make sure the measurements were right before they were sent to be tailored.
Ajax stood on a small stool so Scaramouche had better access to his waist without needing to bend down. Granted, he was shorter than Ajax but that didn’t mean he wanted to break his neck while working from being hunched over.
Once he finished the last pin he gave the pants a small tug to make sure everything stayed in place. Ajax wasn’t a fan of these things because he was stuck standing for hours while Scaramouche “accidentally” poked him with his pins.
“There,” Scaramouche started. “Take them off and place them with the others. I’ll send them out tomorrow.”
Ajax huffed, “finally.”
He got off the stool and unbuttoned his pants pulling them down. He quickly switched into the jeans he brought with him before folding the old ones and placing them with the other clothing that needed to be tailored.
Scaramouche raised a hand to his chin as he skimmed over his notes on his clipboard, “your next photoshoot is Monday at seven am.”
Scaramouche rolled his eyes at the sound of Ajax groaning behind him. He turned to whip him with a glare.
“Problem?”
“No, no,” Ajax sighed. “Just early”
Ajax wasn’t a stranger to waking up early but for some reason recently they’ve been scheduling his photoshoots much earlier. He used to arrive at the studio around nine or ten but now it was around six or seven in the morning.
Scaramouche noticed he had missed writing down the measurement for his waist and looked for his measuring tape. He needed the number so he could send it to the tailor. Once he found it he walked over to Ajax and wrapped it around his stomach. He tightened it to fit his waist. Ajax stiffened as he raised his arms to make sure they were out of his way.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re going.”
A heat rushed to his face when he realized Scaramouche's forehead was almost resting against his chest. Even though they were constantly in close proximity due to their jobs, he couldn’t control the weird racing of his heart. It started about a month ago and he didn’t have an explanation for it.
“Is there a reason why you’re always so close to me?” He smirked.
“Because we work together, unfortunately.”
Ajax let out a hmph as he glanced away. Once Scaramouche finished his measuring he went to grab his clipboard to write down the number. He had lost half an inch in his waist size. It wasn’t uncommon for Ajax to forget to have meals since he was constantly on the run with meetings and photoshoots. He really didn’t know what Ajax would do without him.
“Make sure you grab something to eat on your way home,” Scaramouche muttered with his back to him.
Ajax raised an eyebrow as he put on his coat. “Will you be joining me?”
His teasing didn’t go unnoticed by the other who exhaled through his nose as he closed his eyes. He could easily say how he’d rather be found dead than be seen eating out with Ajax but he decided to hold his tongue.
“No.” Scaramouche threw his bag over his shoulder before giving Ajax one more look. “Don’t be late tomorrow.”
Ajax rolled his eyes while waving him off. He muttered something that Scaramouche didn’t hear as he left the studio. It wasn’t a long walk back home but it was late and he forgot to bring a jacket. He didn’t mind the cold that much but he didn’t partially enjoy it when it felt like he couldn’t move his fingers due to the weather.
Scaramouche took out his sketch pad to look over his designs. His book was filled with different outfit ideas and, unfortunately, of Ajax. If he wanted the outfit to look good then he needed to try to envision what it would look like on the model who’d be wearing it.
When he arrived home his aunt was sitting in the living room with a cup of tea. Ever since his mother made it clear she had no want for him, he decided to leave home but when his aunt heard of this she made it her mission to make him stay with her. She easily found him wandering the streets and after a lot of arguing brought him back to her home where she made him a cup of tea and ran him a warm bath.
Granted, there was more to the story but that was for another day.
At the time he had two hundred mora to his name and the only clothes he had were the ones on his back. Now he had a good-paying job where he could easily buy his own place but instead, he stayed. The least he could do for all her help is try to return the favor by staying by her side.
“Scara,” she smiled as she swung her legs. “You’re back. I tried making dinner for you but couldn’t reach the shelf with the spices.”
Scaramouche raised an eyebrow as he took off his shoes and placed them by the door. “Why do you even have them that high? I can barely reach them.”
“Because when you get them for me you usually end up helping me make dinner.”
“Ah, manipulation. The greatest family bonding activity.” Scaramouche waved her off, “I’m not that hungry anyway. It’s fine.”
He placed a quick kiss on her forehead as he passed her while heading for the stairs. He made his way to his room and shut the door behind him. He walked over to his desk where he took out his sketch pad and flopped down in his chair. He rested his head in his hand as he grabbed a pencil.
After flipping through his most recent sketches again he flipped to a blank page. He gently chewed on the eraser of his pencil while he tried to think. If he wanted this stupid watch collaboration to do well he needed to come up with some better ideas. However, he was quickly coming to a burnout.
They were launching a limited-time clothing line along with a fitness watch to go with it. Ajax was the face of the brand which meant he was in for a lot of interviews and photoshoots. Even though they didn’t always see eye to eye the relationship worked for both.
Ajax got to be the center of attention while Scaramouche got to design on the sidelines. While his name was still on the brand most people paid attention to who was wearing the clothes and usually skimmed past the designer's name. He has had times where people recognize him and try to talk to him but he quickly gained a reputation as the reserved designer.
Scaramouche had spent the last six nights stuck at this damn desk with nothing good. All of these designs weren’t good enough. At least not to him. He poked his cheek with his tongue as he began doodling. Maybe a simple doodle could turn into something useful. He only had one more week before he needed to ship out the designs to begin manufacturing them.
However, that clearly didn’t happen when he jolted awake to the sound of his alarming blaring. He sat up straight and reached for his phone to turn the alarm off. A piece of paper stuck to his cheek which he pulled off with a growl.
Shit. He was going to be late if he didn’t get his ass up. He quickly gathered the scattered papers across his desk and shoved them into his bag. He took a quick shower and changed before racing out the front door. His aunt was most likely at work so he didn’t need to worry about her until tonight.
He ran across the town to get to the stupid studio. If he was late after he told Ajax not to be he wouldn’t hear the damn end of it.
Scaramouche stopped running when he finally reached the studio. He whipped open the door and found a bunch of people he didn’t recognize walking around. No one was supposed to be here until Monday so who are all these people?
There were people setting up something in front of a camera which he’s seen done before. In most photoshoots, they would create a set to give the illusion that the model was somewhere they weren't. For example, for Ajax's summer line, they made a beach scene to make it look like he actually was at the beach. He hesitated as he walked into the studio. If he could find someone he knew he could ask what was going on but he didn’t recognize anyone.
He had made it a few steps when some random guy appeared before him. He was taller than Scaramouche but not by much.
“Hey,” he started. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Scaramouche raised a brow, “what’s it to you? You’re in my studio. I should be asking you that.”
The male raised a brow, “we were sent here to get everything set up early for Monday's photoshoot. You should’ve gotten an email about it from Signora.”
That’s news to him. Since when was that a thing? It was Thursday and usually, things were set up the day before not four days before.
“Well, I didn’t.” He hissed.
There was a small silence that nestled between the two for a moment. However, Scaramouche took notice when he stepped closer and immediately stepped back to put some distance between them.
“Ah, I see. I’m going to assume you’re the one they warned us about. The designer with the attitude?” He continued on, “you’re not half bad looking. What do you say to a few drinks after work?”
Who the hell did this guy think he is?
“No,” Scaramouche glared. “Now get away from me before I break your arm.”
The man raised a brow down at him but didn’t back away. Instead, he took a step closer to him again. If he wasn’t in public he would’ve thrown this guy the beating of a lifetime but he needed to stay professional.
“Are you sure?” He asked, “I’m a lot of fun once you get to know me.”
Doubtful. He looked like his idea of fun was getting drunk and catcalling anyone who had the misfortune of walking within his vicinity.
Before he could respond an arm shot between them and slammed against the wall. Scaramouche’s eyes looked at the arm before following it up to the perpetrator's face, and that’s when he saw Ajax with his glare fixed on the guy in front of him.
“Hey, short stuff.” He pushed past his teeth. “What part of the word ‘no’ did you not understand?”
The man’s eyes narrowed when he was interrupted but when he realized who was in front of him his expression changed to a solemn one.
“Really, Tartaglia?” He asked.
Did Ajax know him? The expression on his face didn’t show any signs of recognition but Ajax was known by almost everyone in Teyvat. However, that didn’t explain why this guy was talking to him as if they were friends.
“Really. Get lost.”
The man stared at him with a brow raised which only made Ajax’s glare harden. He was shorter than Ajax so he had to tilt his head back to look up at him.
With a sigh, the man eventually left to get back to work. Ajax didn’t remove his eyes until he was satisfied with the distance between them. When he was he turned to Scaramouche with a brow raised.
“You okay?”
Why did it look like there was a bit of concern in his eyes? Also, when did he even get here? When Scaramouche arrived he scanned the whole area and didn’t see those ginger locks anywhere. His stupid face was hard to miss which most likely meant he had just arrived.
“Why the hell wouldn’t I be? I didn’t ask you for help,” he retorted.
“I believe the word you were searching for is. ‘Thank you, Ajax. What would I do without you?’”
Scaramouche growled under his breath before shoving him away. “The word I’m searching for I can’t say because I’d get fired.”
“As if that’s ever stopped you.” Ajax retorted which brought them to a glaring contest. Neither one was willing to let the other win this unspoken argument.
However, Ajax was forced to look away when he heard his name called. A glance over his shoulder showed him that the photographer was calling for him.
One last glare was shot at Scaramouche before he left to go talk with him. Scaramouche rolled his eyes before heading to his office which was basically just an art room that he called an office with a lock on the door. It was the only room in the studio that had a lock beside the front door which is why he made it his so-called “office”.
He immediately went to check his email and, sure enough, there was an email he had missed.
It mentioned how Signora was sending her team early so everything would be ready by Monday morning's photoshoot. If he hadn’t fallen asleep at his desk he would’ve seen it last night. So this was partially his fault but that didn’t stop it from pissing him off.
When there was a knock on his door it made the already pounding headache he had forming worsen. Scaramouche glanced up at the window beside the door and saw that blonde-haired architect outside his office. What was he doing here?
The next few knocks were more aggressive and urgent making it clear the man outside was becoming impatient.
Ugh, it was going to be a long day.