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Sunlight is often a kind soul, providing a blanket of warmth over weathered blueprints and blotchy ink spills by the farthest corner, accidental handpicked smudges smearing against the open stretch of paper where thoughtful ideas - ones driven by a love for the trade and design - become closer to reality.
The sunlight in this particular room is Kaveh’s favorite, only truly available at this hour benefitted by the large window that offers copious amounts of Sumeru City’s daily ongoings. On days where he needed a more secluded spot to himself, the curtains he fought so hard to buy and apply himself easily granted him the privacy he desired.
Today, though, proves to be bothersome.
The curtains had been taken down the day before to properly wipe off the window panes, and the light that currently beats down over the renowned architect’s slumped body only worsens the uncomfortable ache near his right eye. His entire face, really.
Ache is a light way to describe the internal fuzz that had kept Kaveh awake all night from the moment he stumbled to the doorway of their home - keys in its proper location, thankfully - to the hours he spent until early morning curled inside the bathroom softly patting the bruise that only began to bloom a deeper shade of purple and the bandages he managed to loosely wrap around his weakened hand.
“Archons…” Kaveh tsks, tossing away whatever he planned to sketch next to put his head fully down on the desk. The throbbing pressure makes him wince with the sudden change of angle, and the urge to take the day off only heightens. Could he afford to take the needed break?
He curses his heart for the 10000th time that morning, wondering how he started the previous night from entering Lambad’s Tavern with a big smile ready to drink a few of his worries away to leaving within the next few hours with a newly born bloody knuckle, stained clothes, a bruised face, and a rapidly pulsing heartbeat.
He cannot regret his actions, however. That no-name, sleazy, disrespectful scholar deserved it!
What a nuisance to even describe the young, young man who was much too new to the Akademiya circle as a respected scholar. The guy had been quite full of himself as well, enough to boast over others without a single accreditation to his name, even the former Acting Grand Sage. A few drinks made him even more passionate about it, even more volatile .
Kaveh internally whines. What had driven him to provoke the man even further?
He knows why he really did it, his own volition constantly wanting to protect those closest to him, but thinking back on it, he’s not sure he would do it a second time if the aching pain he now suffers always came along with it.
Then again, what did that make him? His fall from grace…from his bright days studying at the Akademiya to designing his magnum opus known to everyone as The Palace of Alcazarzaray to walking down the streets of Sumeru City with barely a pouch of Mora to his name…
Known to everyone as the Light of the Kshahrewar, to his students who he taught every so often to make ends meet, to facing the very real truth that he had hit a rock bottom that he usually tried to hide from others. Even fronting the brightest of smiles did not erase that he was not the role model that so many students of Kshahrewar idolized him for.
Back then, when the last person he ever wanted to stumble across found him nearly passed out at a table at the tavern and willingly listened to everything Kaveh poured out to him, had it been the ultimate punishment or his saving grace?
Oh, how much he wishes that his career could have been as plain-sailing as people liked to imagine.
The same can be said for many other facets of his life.
Several drinkware had been broken at the tavern, tossed around or slammed into, and an entire table nearly got upended. Archons, had he really become so heated with the wine down his throat? He could afford to pay for some of the damages, but surely not all of them.
Too many thoughts, too many feelings growing in size for a certain…individual. If he had been in denial before, he could not use the same excuse now.
He thinks he got over this when the two of them messily parted ways in the middle of a dimly lit meeting room inside the Akademiya. Papers ripped in half, truths shared that Kaveh was not prepared to hear, their joint research efforts almost worth nothing in the end with a version of Kaveh who was certain he experienced heartbreak for the first time.
He thinks he surely got over his messy patch of feelings right after the first tavern incident - when the scribe suddenly offered his home upon seeing Kaveh without one of his own, set up a rent payment plan at Kaveh's insistence, and then proceeded to go along his days as if Kaveh had not once considered him to be his best friend.
“You should come with me now, but you can move in whenever you’re ready. The door will be unlocked. Though I doubt you have much to bring along if this is all that you carry with you.”
“Hmph! This is no ordinary briefcase!”
It actually was just an ordinary briefcase at the time, but Kaveh’s active imagination had already begun to shape the first plans into what would eventually become his beloved Mehrak.
But Alhaitham was already ten steps ahead, not even bothering to hear Kaveh’s reply. He stopped at a distance away when he heard no footsteps, toned back facing the architect until he eventually turned around to fully gaze at Kaveh again. His eyes were assessing, lips pursed into the straight line.
“Are you even well enough to walk?”
It was dark, and the moon was barely visible through the cloudy skies.
“I—I’m fine—ack!” Kaveh’s head spun. He relented and let himself stumble lower to sit on the street, head in his hands.
Kaveh stared down at the ground, too embarrassed to gauge Alhaitham’s reaction as he remained in place for a long, long time. Would Alhaitham come back to him, if he simply dared to call out his name?
Had he already left?
How did it end up like this?
Fragile. Sensitive. People-pleaser. These are traits that Kaveh knows he has developed over the years, slumping over projects that did not pay enough and even worse for the ones that did, simply to share in his appreciation for the beauty that surrounded him and assuring its quality and safety.
These are also traits that Kaveh knows Alhaitham must associate with him now, not afraid to voice out his grievances with whatever he wanted to debate the architect with next.
The days in which Kaveh could actually smile at him and receive a small one in return seems to be all part of a distant, foggy memory. More and more so that Kaveh was slowly losing fragments of it all.
Perhaps that is what breaks his heart most of all.
So he does not know what prompted him to act so…protectively at the tavern once Alhaitham’s name had been tossed into the conversation. Had it been the drinks? His duty as Alhaitham’s senior? His unrequited feelings? Agh, his head hurts more.
The bed calls his name for a needed rest. His fingers twitch to grab the pencil again. But his thoughts cannot decide between the two before the sudden sound of a front door opening immediately catches an alarm bell inside his mind, ringing adamantly like a ticker awaiting its exact second to explode.
Crap. Kaveh peeks a look behind him, confirming that he forgot to shut the door to his own bedroom when he first came in.
Distant reverberations of a familiar voice filter through the halls. Alhaitham’s mumbling something to himself again - something about too much sand in his shoes - something else about running later than expected…or perhaps he was speaking to someone via his earpieces. Keys jingle, the sound of them being dropped into their shared bowl to clink together with Kaveh’s own set makes his head feel a bit nicer.
These are familiar sounds - sounds that sometimes ( often ) made an indecipherable emotion swirl inside of Kaveh. Of a blissful content that comes with a repeated routine at home. Of a shared life in a shared space in a shared…?
Kaveh does not know the last word to end that sentence.
Perhaps, in a parallel life…if they had not fallen out so messily in the past…if they did not view the world in such opposing manners…would things be different?
Well, better for him. He spends more time nowadays arguing with his junior than the opposite, but even still. He cares. He cares a lot.
Perhaps he cares a bit too much for a man that did not reciprocate similar feelings.
For a man who he once so beautifully and proudly claimed to be his best companion in the world.
These thoughts force Kaveh to wince, bringing his hand to gently rub at the bruise again, tinted with the memories of the previous night once more.
Well.
He will make do. It is his speciality, after all. Knowing that Alhaitham had safely returned from his overnight journey to the Tanit Camps settle Kaveh with ease. He turns his back towards the desk again and pretends to work quietly, forgetting how much strength he needs to use at the moment to simply lift the pencil and bring it to hold between his fingers.
His bandaged hand drops it quite easily, a sting of pain striking up his wrist at the wrong angle.
“Fuck.” Kaveh curses, unable to do anything as it rolls away from him towards the edge of the desk.
Pleasenopleasenoplease —
The pencil tumbles over. Oh, how luck is ever in his favor…
Kaveh miserably groans, turning his back around slightly to try and bend low from his chair. The pain is a bit stifling…maybe from this angle he could reach out and—
His thought does not grant itself the opportunity to finish. It is interrupted by the moment his eyes meet (and his heart lurches) at the familiar sight of tight dark green pants and black and gold knee-high boots instead, unbelievably settled in place as if the scribe simply teleported into the room much to Kaveh’s astonishment.
“Kaveh.”
Alhaitham’s tone is how it often carries itself when it is simply the two of them inside their home - curt and a lingering sense of familiarity upon noticing the architect was home.
What would it be this time? Kaveh wonders. Is Alhaitham ready to fuss and begin an argument over another placement of a painting? Kaveh hadn’t even hung one up recently!
Truth be told, such snarky comments slowly lessened in occurrence ever since the traveler restored a semblance of calm in Sumeru. While still not entirely rid of its problems, Alhaitham appeared to immensely enjoy the leisurely routine that came with it and his full return to his role as the Akademiya’s scribe, a welcoming time for him to read more of his books, put on his soundproof earpieces and reject even more applications so he could go home on time. It offered a larger chance to take afternoon naps on the weekends without worrying so much and to be in attendance whenever Kaveh finished preparing anything in the kitchen.
They talked more at the dinner table, were much more civil together around their companions like Cyno and Tighnari, and even engaged in worthwhile discussions until Kaveh said something that Alhaitham simply needed to find a reason to refute.
Kaveh, on the other hand, well. He still struggles, but he’s grateful for the chance to maintain a somewhat steady line of work through the stipend with the Akademiya and a few clients who always let him know that a stellar reference brought them to him.
Whatever the reason may be for Alhaitham’s intrusion today, Kaveh falters upon hearing the voice give off a slow beat of weariness, of a voice already steps ahead of his movements, most likely wanting to head to bed and take a long rest. Kaveh understands that. He knows that. Alhaitham must have had a more tiresome journey than expected, judging by his late arrival time.
So why did he step into Kaveh’s room?
Kaveh remains solid as stone despite the running thoughts and questions inside his head - his pounding migraine only making it worse. He knows that he must look silly in this current position, bent over looking straight at the ground to avoid any direct contact. His mind, all at the same time, races in an infinite track loop if the internal fuzz getting worse inside his head is any indicator.
He really hopes he does not pass out right here and now.
What had drawn Alhaitham here? Why had he not simply returned to his study room as he usually liked to do? It was past sunrise - surely he must have been tired after the long trek back from the desert. He does not often visit Kaveh’s room after he returns from work. Sometimes, here and there, when he returned from longer expeditions…
“What is it, Alhaitham?”
Kaveh hears the floorboards creak, and his vision glues itself to the ghastly sight before him.
Alhaitham’s bottom half is toeing around the forgotten pencil with the outsole of his boot, almost as if he were playing around with it like a toy. Kaveh would see red if his entire head didn’t feel so cloudy.
“You’re up early.”
“And you’re late.” Kaveh huffs, dropping whatever nonsense fears he had to finally look up and face his roommate, all in the name of avoiding his precious pencil getting pummeled over. It would not be a proper argument with Alhaitham if he did not directly look at him. Maybe a glance alone would steer the scribe away upon assessing the state of him. “Did you not say you’d be back by midnight?”
“I—”
Kaveh expects Alhaitham to easily retort back, commenting anything along the lines to stop the dramatics as he usually liked to do, or simply leave the room once he realizes that Kaveh is too busy and agitated for it to lead into a longer debate.
Or maybe he does not expect Kaveh to be here at all. After all, Alhaitham always makes it clear that he quite prefers it when everything is quieter, if to simply avoid wearing his earpieces to bed when Kaveh must hammer away on a project in the dead of night to meet a deadline on time.
Kaveh has always considered himself to have a tough exterior, but even he concludes that his presence here is more of a nuisance than anything else. He wakes up everyday wondering if it will be the one that Alhaitham finally decides to throw him out, still unsure of the original reason as to why the scribe so easily offered the home to him.
And whenever that day comes, Kaveh knows that he will be alone once more, unwilling to burden anyone else with his own problems. Whenever that day comes , Kaveh also knows that whatever relationship he and Alhaitham had cultivated during their early days in the Akademiya would be well and truly dusted.
Was it…so hard to build a companionship? To spend so many years together, shaping memories stored deep in the heart, only to let it shatter like glass and blow away like dust in the wind?
The two of them were quite the opposites, yes. Mirrors of the other, two flipped sides of the same coin…
Kaveh barely realizes that his lip is trembling. Whatever Alhaitham originally wants to say dies on his own once their eyes greet each other properly. He makes a face that could easily be interpreted as disgust if anyone else were in the room. This expression, however…is unreadable.
It’s hard for anyone to particularly understand the language of Alhaitham’s expressions. The scribe does not have many, to be frank, but Kaveh prides himself (internally) that he is one of the very few - if not the only one - to truly get a grasp of them over the past years living together and the ones spent working together at the Akademiya. Were his lips angled slightly upwards or downwards? Were his brows drawn together in focus? Were his eyes interested in the topic at hand?
Kaveh does enjoy looking at Alhaitham’s face. Quite a lot. (He will not admit this to anybody, and even the drunk version of himself seems to agree if he has yet to messily scribble out his true feelings for the entire city to read about on the public message boards).
But this expression that Alhaitham currently holds…of a fright? Of something out of his control? His lips zip tightly in a complete straight line, but his eyes burn . They burn with a tumultuous blend of enough anger to completely drain the color out, where it is ever impossible to pinpoint the pretty turquoise that Kaveh likes to see under the sunlight, or the orange rings that decorate around the pupils.
This one…this one Kaveh cannot decipher.
But there is no doubt that it is laser-focused on a particular sight.
Alhaitham says nothing despite the fact that he looks at Kaveh’s face as if it is the only sane thing left in a maze of illusory murals.
Kaveh closes his eyes, shaking his head. Exhaustion from everything that happened within the past twelve-or so hours must be quickly weighing him down. He does not know how much longer he can go without closing his eyes and resting for hours and hours on end.
“Stop staring, won’t you? You usually say something to chide me by this point. You can laugh at my unfortunate predicament.”
Alhaitham says nothing.
Kaveh bristles at the silence. Is the scribe so content to spend his time making Kaveh feel like he’s under a microscope?
“Alhaitham—if you have nothing to say, leave. I have deadlines to meet—” Kaveh needs space now, because his face is beginning to burn for a completely different reason if this much attention is being placed directly onto him. It is only Alhaitham that has ever made him feel this type of…way. Any earlier version of him would smack him upside the head for holding on. Kaveh knows he would not feel similarly if anyone else looked at him in the same way his junior is doing.
“You’ll do what if I leave, then?” Alhaitham speaks with a scorching honesty, bending down to pick up the pencil under his shoe and place it back on the desk. “You can’t move that hand.”
Kaveh laughs. Out of nervousness? Relief? Finally! His roommate had muttered a few words.
“I didn’t think we suddenly switched places, Haitham.” Kaveh uses his unhurt wrist to wave him off. “I can use this hand just fine—”
“Your face.”
Kaveh sighs. Alhaitham has surprisingly not sped into a long tangent of explanation, which is a first. “You think I can’t see—”
His words halt once he feels the light touch of two fingers moving to hold his chin in place.
Huh?! When did Alhaitham get so close? When did he bend low quickly enough to meet Kaveh’s gaze head-on? The light still pours through the windows with the early morning sun, illuminating those same eyes from before, only this time with the caressing wave of warmth once more that Kaveh treasures to see them under.
His breath catches quickly, trying to swallow the damning waterfall of emotion he feels when those same two fingers gently tilt his head upward. “Ah. What are you—”
“What happened to you?”
Kaveh sets his lips into a straight line. What should he say? Surely whatever he decides, Alhaitham would find a way to pick it apart. It is not worth the effort, no, not when his head feels absurdly light, like a balloon ready to pop.
Alhaitham tsks for the first time that morning - setting a complete new record!
“I can still smell the alcohol on you. Did you drink too much and say something out of line? You’re not exactly a warrior with your hands.”
“Hah.” Kaveh deadpans. He tries to turn back around but Alhaitham does not let him. His junior’s hold is not forceful, only silently demanding with the rush of his skin touching Kaveh’s own. Those eyes of steady water still burn, but they flame along that warmth of sunlight as they look closer into him.
Kaveh feels a bit helpless here, unable to do anything but remain silent. It is not his usual go-to when holding a debate with the scribe.
This is no debate.
“I tell you every time to stop staying so late at the tavern.”
“Chastising me now?” Kaveh tries to glare, but the area around his eyes still hurts from the nasty bruise. He must wince, because he feels the way Alhaitham completely lets go of his chin and moves in closer. The warmth of the sun is suddenly replaced by the sheer heated proximity of having Alhaitham this near to him, hands on his thighs, and Kaveh at least tries to retort again. “Are you surprised that something like this hasn’t happened already—ah.”
A particular throb of pain does not allow Kaveh to finish his sentence, pulling him down to hold his face with one hand as he stares at the ground, nearly dropping his head onto Alhaitham’s shoulder. Pathetic . He must look pathetic in front of Alhaitham just like the first time the scribe stumbled upon him drunk at a table at the tavern, surely at his rock bottom. If things could get worse, they did not, for which Kaveh is immensely grateful for.
“Kaveh, let me look.”
Kaveh keeps his head down, biting back the urge to laugh. “I don’t want to indulge you, Alhaitham.” He figures he can be a little serious judging by the unreadable expression that had yet to leave his junior’s face. “You’ll surely find a way to add this to your list of reasons for why I should move out.”
Alhaitham ignores him. “Tell me, Kaveh.”
Kaveh feels a flare of defense shield in front of him. If he didn’t feel so weak, he would have stormed out by now! “Why would I do that?”
“Kaveh, if you don’t—”
“I tripped over—”
Alhaitham moves fast enough to make Kaveh sit upwards again, fingers returning to hold the architect’s chin immediately, softer and perhaps even a bit…tender.
Kaveh’s lips part. Alhaitham’s eyes are burning alive.
“Who did this to you?”
The words cut through whatever shield Kaveh tries and fails to put up.
Somewhere inside of him, a part where his exhaustion is close to taking over, he wants to take those words and simply fall into Alhaitham, into his arms, into his hold, into a place so very dear and warm to his own heart.
He hesitates to push away Alhaitham’s fingers, but he does, skin buzzing with the sudden absence of a very different form of warmth. A warmth that rivals that of the highest peak of the sun.
He is sure his words do not match his tone.
“None of your business. I feel more embarrassed now than when it actually happened!” He quickly looks anywhere that isn’t in Alhaitham’s vicinity, shaking his head. “Archons, stupid scholars...”
Alhaitham levels him a look.
“Were you drunk?”
Kaveh snorts. He feels the tiny burst of hope blossoming inside his heart dissipate back into nothing.
“Forget it, Alhaitham. It was merely a stupid scuffle.” He puffs out his chest and crosses his arms over it. He hopes he was curt enough, not having the willpower to glance at the way Alhaitham currently gazes up at him. This conversation should have ended several minutes ago. “No need to keep yourself here as if I owe you Mora. I paid my rent early this month!”
“You always owe me Mora.”
“Hmph!”
Kaveh cannot stay in the room any longer. He stands up and side steps around Alhaitham, a bit too quickly if the way his legs slightly wobble are any indicator. If Alhaitham didn’t want to leave, then he would do the honors.
He barely moves more than a few feet forward before a hand wraps itself around his unharmed wrist, tugging him back. Alhaitham follows him upwards quite readily. “Sit back down, Kaveh.”
Kaveh knows he is a stubborn man, and he knows that if he is stubborn enough, he would get his way. “I’ll stay standing, thank you! I’m leaving if you won’t.”
Alhaitham glares at him, lasting a couple of seconds before simply blocking the path in front of Kaveh to turn around and walk towards the door instead—a pressure lifting off of Kaveh’s shoulders at the sight ( finally!) .
But…Alhaitham does not leave.
Alhaitham’s hand reaches for the doorknob and quietly locks it instead, closing the door before walking back towards the architect as if he heard nothing of their previous conversation.
Kaveh’s eyes widen. “What are you doing?!” His heart does the stupid thing again, and he wants to smash it with a hammer. “You’re really locking yourself in here with me?”
“I doubt you want anyone else to see you like this,” Alhaitham simply says.
“You’re not the exception!”
“Kaveh.” Alhaitham rubs his temple. Frustration draws itself onto his handsome features, and Kaveh is quickly reminded of the way Alhaitham sounded when he first came in. Tired. Exhausted. Free at will to have simply gone to his room and rest. “Will you sit down?”
Kaveh tenses his shoulders, unsure of what to do. He does not know what Alhaitham specifically wants to achieve here.
Alhaitham’s look of agitation is the same as whenever they get into a verbal scuffle, but there is another thing poking him that makes him look all the more miserable.
Kaveh is weak, he knows, when it comes to things like this.
Is Alhaitham offering to help? Would it really…hurt to be comforted by something like this?
His resolve does not last long. He sighs quietly, taking the seat again to plop down on it. Alhaitham seems serious enough about it.
“Fine. Only because my head really hurts and if you agree to buy me drinks—”
Alhaitham kneels down again at the same time, allowing their eyes to meet at the even level as he delivers his next words.
“If you actually listen to me and not make this so difficult for both of us, I will…count your previous rent payment to last for the next two months. Is that not a reasonable offer?”
Kaveh blinks rapidly. Huh?
“Haitham.” Kaveh leans in out of complete surprise, assessing every single one of Alhaitham’s features now that he is so close again. The scribe really is beautiful, so different to his appearance years ago without the gained muscle mass, but perhaps now it only accentuated his older self. Enough for Kaveh to stare every time he was in the room without his cape on. Damn him!
“Have you seen a doctor lately? Did you run into anything when you were in the desert?”
“You’re already starting, Kaveh.” Alhaitham huffs, moving away quickly from Kaveh’s puzzled face to stand up and turn around, leaving his back turned to him.
Alhaitham stays like that for a few moments, almost as if he were composing himself before quietly walking over to his senior’s dresser, fiddling with the knobs of each drawer.
Kaveh gapes. “Now what are you doing? Who gave you permission to go through my stuff?!”
Alhaitham ignores him, piecing through the hair accessories until he finds the red pins that often adorn Kaveh’s hair. He picks up a few to gather in his hand, walking back leisurely towards the architect who is still open-mouthed as he sets them down on the desk.
“Sit still.”
“Haitham—”
“ Kaveh .”
Kaveh screws his eyes shut tightly, setting his hands on his thighs to hastily grip the fabric of his pants once he feels the featherlight touch of Alhaitham’s fingers on his neck to pull the strands of blonde hair back.
“What.are.you.doing?”
Perhaps Kaveh already passed out hours ago, and this is the resulting daydream.
“If we’re going to properly tend to your injuries, your hair needs to be out of the way.”
“I tended to them just fine…”
He can hear the next huff of desperation Alhaitham takes behind him, continuing on. “I said if we’re going to properly tend to your injuries.” He picks up a few strands and begins to pull them across the back of Kaveh’s head, swiftly enough as if he memorized the steps inside his head. “Whatever you did when you were by yourself would make someone like Tighnari cry himself to sleep. Your hair is a bird’s nest. Your bandages are barely wrapped and your bruise is swollen.”
Kaveh rumbles with quiet rage.
“Why not just send me to Bimarstan, Alhaitham?! I doubt you want to do this.”
Alhaitham continues to speak as if he were not braiding Kaveh’s hair in the present moment.
“Logic should tell you that if I really did not want to do it, I would not be doing it, Kaveh. Will you continue to argue with me as I try to help, or will you wear us out until our inevitable deaths?”
Kaveh rolls his eyes. “Archons, you’re so…”
“You taught me how to do this, by the way.”
“Years ago!”
Alhaitham pauses.
“Did you think I forgot?”
Kaveh stills. Frozen, stuck in time.
He does not argue further, shutting his mouth as he allows Alhaithan to continue sweeping his hair around and do whatever he aims to do, finding enough comfort to shut his eyes for a bit and relax at the repeated movements.
Truth is his friend. Kaveh knows that Alhaitham cares in his own blunt way. He knows, yet he constantly feels guilty at accepting such an intimate gesture. Why, it had been Kaveh's fault that he got into the scuffle at the tavern, for making Alhaitham spend time doing this than going to his own bedroom to rest.
Yet he knows that Alhaitham knows this as well. Neither of them are dense.
All the while, Kaveh attempts to ignore the rush of air that fills his lungs when Alhaitham brushes a light finger over his neck in the shared silence between them, or when several glide dangerously across his jawline when a lone strand of hair accidentally slips between his hold.
It is nice, he notes. The shared silence, the audible sound of a few birds chirping outside, the panes of sunlight that never wane in this moment…
In another life, perhaps this would be the sort of thing they’d do here and there.
He hears Alhaitham tsk when a second pin falls out after the third attempt, resisting the urge to tease as he gazes upwards to look at him. Kaveh stops himself short of doing so.
That would be too reminiscent of their earlier days, where Kaveh always liked to boast of his senior status and a certain gray-haired student would roll his eyes and continue following behind him.
This angle, at least from the sliver of the mirror that Kaveh can see, is particularly pleasing to the eye. Alhaitham looks quite distracted and annoyed all at once, flyaway strands of hair falling over his forehead as he looks more focused than ever.
Kaveh eventually looks away, commenting quietly as he fiddles with his hands.
“I usually brush my hair before putting those pins in.” A quiet, steady laugh escapes him. “Did you forget that part? You’re making this much too hard on yourself.”
Alhaitham hums in response. He pauses his movements, but his fingers do not release those delicate strands of hair.
“That is something you mention at the beginning, Kaveh.”
Kaveh huffs softly, shaking his head. “I was too flabbergasted at your choice of actions before I could gather my thoughts!”
Alhaitham hums again. “Once I’m done with this, we can go into the bathroom.”
“So you’re asking me to willingly lock myself into an even smaller room with you?” Kaveh glances up to face him for real. “Really, tell me. What did you eat for dinner in the desert?”
“If you’re quiet, I can actually focus on this and get this over with much quicker.”
“Hmph. Like I implied before, I didn’t ask you to do this for me.”
Alhaitham does not respond immediately. He grabs the brush from the dresser and walks back with a few more pins in his hand, taking his time to brush through and begin re-braiding to insert another clip to hold in place.
His fingers accidentally brush over Kaveh’s cheek again as he does so - soft, soothing, sentimental.
“...I will do it if no one else will.”
Kaveh is left speechless at Alhaitham’s words and actions.
He does not dare speak another word, his heart beating and pounding tenfold against his chest now, afraid that if does, he will surely break this moment.
Alhaitham’s movements eventually bring themselves into a repeated routine once more, lulling Kaveh into a blissful state of content as the scribe finishes the last touches, sliding the final pin in its place.
“Done, Kaveh.”
Kaveh delays his reply, relishing the quietness and the solid presence of his junior behind him.
He wishes he could remain like this for just a little while longer, even if it is only a daydream.
“Stop moving so much. I haven’t finished yet.”
Kaveh turns around slightly to flash him a grin. “You’ll miss one of your classes just to finish doing my hair?”
Alhaitham shrugs. “I don’t like going to those anyway.”
A classic, tell-tale response. Very Alhaitham-like.
“Well, you should.” Kaveh softens, slumping his shoulders. The wind is gentle and quiet in this outdoor pavilion of the Akademiya, and it is enough to feel like it is simply the two of them in this world. “This week marks a new record of how many professors have come to me asking about you.”
“Mhm. What do you say?”
“Is there anything you want me to say, Haitham? I can’t control your actions.”
A long pause. Kaveh sighs.
“But as your senior, I don’t want you to waste your time here and get nothing out of it. You’re brilliant, really, when you put the effort in.”
Kaveh can sense Alhaitham’s frown from behind him, not saying another word when he feels his junior’s fingers thread through his hair again.
“That’s my own business.” Alhaitham is uncharacteristically slow in picking out his next set of words, as if he were running them through his mind.
“Let me just focus on this now, Kaveh.”
Eventually Kaveh is the one who must cut the thread.
“Finally. Let me see how you did, then.”
Kaveh takes the brush from Alhaitham and stands to walk towards the mirror, holding in the urge to maniacally laugh at what he sees. He looks utterly ridiculous with hair pins in all of the wrong places and a nasty sketch of dark blues and purples around his eyes. A complete mess, really, including the tall figure that stands near his side, watching him closely.
Alhaitham has lost his touch over the years, it seems.
Holding in his thoughts, Kaveh weakly squeezes the brush handle with his injured hand, nodding with his back still turned to Alhaitham. He can appreciate his junior doing an unbelievably kind gesture, even if he does not know where that willingness to help sprouted from.
“You tried your best, it seems.”
He hears Alhaitham hum, and the familiar sensation of a hand resting atop his shoulder and meddling with the clips in his hair returns swiftly.
“Not satisfied?”
“Haitham—”
“I can always try again—“
“ No. ” Kaveh’s body jolts at the returning sensation of Alhaitham’s touch on him, turning around this time with his unhurt hand on the back of his head to hold the clips in place. Alhaitham is unbearingly close again, so close that Kaveh feels suffocated by the proximity. If they were in a brutally cold Snezhnayan home with no heat, he’s sure their breaths would visibly mingle together.
“You—you did fine, Haitham. Thank you.” Kaveh looks down, outstretching his bandaged hand to see if it’s gotten any better.
The pain is still quite fuzzy, he thinks to himself, enough to still make him wince. He feels utterly useless, moving away for a chance to breathe properly and to look out the window and avoid any face to face confrontation. “Please attend to your duties now, or go rest. Whatever you need to do.”
Alhaitham does not move. Kaveh feels embarrassed, shaking his head out of pity.
“Please. You don’t have to take care of me like this. I can go to the bathroom myself to properly tend to these injuries as you said. I’m just—“ Kaveh breaks. “I’m just someone who lives with you, Haitham.”
I am not your family. I am not a lover. Am I even a friend? A companion?
Alhaitham must be tired, right? He must be if the way his shoulders sag or the bags under his eyes show any sign of it.
He should not be ticking time away in Kaveh’s room as if he were bound to it by duty.
Alhaitham remains in place, his gaze heavy on Kaveh. “You must have not heard me when I said we need to properly tend to your injuries—”
“Haitham, leave .” Kaveh tries again. He looks up this time. “Listen to your senior, won’t you? It hurts to move my mouth so I can’t even properly yell at you.”
“Kaveh—“
“Why do you still keep me around?!” Kaveh shakes his head, rubbing gently at his bruise to ease both sides of his pain. He doesn’t know how long the injury will keep him away from his work, and he can’t afford to entertain the idea of not making enough for the next month. That would surely be a reason to kick him out of their—Alhaitham’s home, wouldn’t it? The scribe had bailed him out one too many times now.
“Archons, Haitham. Why have you not yet closed the door on me to be alone?”
At those words, Kaveh gauges the unexpected reaction. Alhaitham looks…emotional? His hands are fisted together at his sides - a mix of irritation and hurt lingering with the words that follow out of his mouth.
“Stop it, would you? You’re barely letting us have a conversation.”
But Kaveh does not stop. “Is this really something of interest to you? I have medicine in our bathroom cabinet. I’ll be fine!”
Alhaitham walks up closer, tightening the space between them again until they are only a single breath apart. “Don’t be so dramatic. If you tell me who did this to you, stop worrying about the money. Is that why you didn’t go to the hospital? You clearly wear your heart on your sleeve. I know that’s what you’re worrying about now.”
“Of course I worry about it! If I can’t work because of this, I won’t make enough money to pay you back.”
“If you tell me who did it, I can handle the rest,” Alhaitham suddenly says. “If it gets you to stop worrying this much, I will take care of the rent for the final months of the year.”
Kaveh laughs a bit too loudly. He does not believe him.
“What are you saying, Haitham?”
“I’m not repeating myself.”
Kaveh laughs again, quietly this time, because if he doesn’t laugh, he may just tear up. “This all seems rather rash, dear junior. You call me dramatic—”
“Kaveh, stop.” Alhaitham appears fed up. He is fed up. His cheeks are a very dusty, light shade of rose all the way to the tip of his ears. “How many times will you refuse?”
“I’m just trying to make sense of what you’re saying—”
“What’s there to misunderstand?”
“I don’t know—”
“—I had a rather terrible night in the desert,” Alhaitham cuts in curtly. He spares Kaveh a glance, only to look away just as quickly. “I thought coming back here would ease things on my end instead of walking directly to the Akademiya to put away my findings. I walk into this room and I see…” Alhaitham hesitates with his words, which is a rare sight.
Kaveh stops. He struggles again with his thoughts to form the proper response.
“Just stop arguing for the sake of arguing and creating a fuss with me.” Alhaitham frowns instead.“I’m taking you to the bathroom, no matter what you try to say.”
He reaches out to lightly grab hold of Kaveh’s injured hand, using the other to gently hold Kaveh’s face. He stares again, his uncharacteristically softer expression betraying the words he says next. “Your bandages are put on like an amateur and your lips look ready to bleed.”
Kaveh glares, but it holds less of a fight. He holds the urge to lean into that soft, soft touch.
“Are you trying to comfort me…or the opposite?”
“I’m trying to make you take care of yourself.”
“I do. Trust me, I do. It’s just that you’re almost making me—hey!”
Al haitham breaks the moment by bending down and simply lifting Kaveh off of his feet. No effort required, carrying him bridal style out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
“Haitham—”
“ Haitham—! ”
Alhaitham walks expertly around their home, carrying Kaveh without a single bead of sweat as the architect must wrap his arms around his junior’s neck to ensure a safe trek from the bedroom to the bathroom.
“Hey, Haitham!” Kaveh laughs. “Haitham, when did you get so strong?”
Alhaitham shrugs. The morning is bright and beautiful after an early trek into the forest for foraging wild berries. He continues to carry Kaveh through the empty halls of the Akademiya without a slight drop in his breath or stamina.
“I can walk to our lecture just fine, you know.”
“Really?” Alhaitham deadpans. “You were just complaining that you broke a leg only a few minutes ago. Has the princess changed her mind?”
“Hah, I was exaggerating like I always do!”
“Then, okay.” Alhaitham loosens his grip around Kaveh. “I will let you go now.”
“No! Please.” Kaveh grins brightly, laughing again. He resists the urge to fix the crooked hat atop of Alhaitham’s head. “I appreciate the free ride, my dear junior.”
Alhaitham sighs.
He does not let Kaveh go.
…..
…..
Once they’re settled in the bathroom, Kaveh is too shocked to say or do anything, uncharacteristically silent as he watches Alhaitham set things up.
Well, he must be dreaming, no?
What type of beasts or illusions did Alhaitham experience in the desert to make him act like this? Why did he hesitate with his words back there?
Did he mean seeing Kaveh again would ease the…?
He wants to ask badly, wants to reach out and potentially soothe down that frown line that has etched itself almost permanently across Alhaitham’s expression.
He does not argue for the entire time that Alhaitham spends spreading everything out on the countertop, making sure that anything urgently needed is placed right by where his hand rests.
And when Alhaitham silently tugs him first towards the sink to rinse the minor cuts on his hand, wrapping them with his own as lukewarm water sloshes over the countertop, Kaveh is still quiet - perhaps too exhausted now as he leans dangerously close into Alhaitham’s side.
If Alhaitham notices, he does not say a thing.
He only reacts by resting an arm around Kaveh’s waist and pulling him closer, using the other hand to hold Kaveh’s cheek again to inspect his face, eyes filled with that same unreadable emotion.
Before Kaveh can say a word, breath stuck in his throat, the scribe excuses himself for a moment.
Kaveh is left with his lips parted, head spinning off of the intended track, his collective thoughts spiraling too fast to think clearly before Alhaitham quickly returns with a cloth filled with ice, warning Kaveh with a few seconds to spare before pressing it gently against the area around his eyes.
Kaveh hisses, and he’s dumbstruck when he feels Alhaitham grab his free hand again , bringing it up towards the counter and squeezing it ever so delicately.
Surely…surely he must be in a dream!
They barely speak, only exchanging long gazes every so often as their eyes meet between steps.
When Alhaitham motions for Kaveh to sit down on the toilet cover and continue holding the ice to his face, Kaveh feels like he can finally breathe again, building enough courage to speak and finally address the issue at hand.
Alhaitham kneels down before him and begins to quietly work around his injured hand. He slowly applies a dollop of antibiotic ointment and begins to cover the wound with a gauze bandage, wrapping it around in a melodic sync.
Kaveh figures it is as good a time as any.
“Haitham...if you want to know so badly…” He sighs, digging through the foggy memories. “There was this idiot scholar inside the tavern. Perhaps from the Haravatat Darshan if I remember how many times he started mumbling in different languages.”
Kaveh allows his words to roll out slowly, watching the way Alhaitham momentarily pauses his movements at the sound of Kaveh’s voice, soon returning to his previous ministrations.
“You can continue.”
Kaveh huffs. “He was certainly full of himself, getting more and more drunk by the half hour. He eventually started saying certain…things about you and I didn’t like it. He probably thought everyone inside the tavern was too tipsy to do a thing at his words. He’s lucky I didn’t have Mehrak with me…!”
“...the Haravatat Darshan?”
“Yes, well.” Kaveh shrugs. “I definitely recognized the various languages, and maybe even the pin on his clothes. I can’t recall any specific name to his face.”
“I see.”
“And either way, after I called him out, I definitely couldn’t see when he spun out of nowhere and set one out for me! That’s when I grabbed the nearest glass full of wine and tried to pour it all over him!” Kaveh groans. “Ah, but of course I had to be slightly light headed. I ended up smashing it against a wall instead, and the glass shattered.”
Kaveh cringes thinking back on it, looking down to assess the newly bandaged hand that Alhaitham still hangs onto. “I was high on adrenaline. Then I came down off of it and…ow. I realized my hand really hurt.”
Alhaitham looks up at him, then. He says nothing.
“Why are you staring—don’t start again!”
“—idiot.”
Kaveh blinks twice. The word registers in his head.
“Idiot?!” He balks, ready to stand up again until Alhaitham’s palms find themselves on his thighs once more, quickly pushing him back down. “I was defending your honor!”
Alhaitham does not hide his small smile this time around, rendering Kaveh nearly speechless again at the sight he has not seen in years.
“You continue to surprise me years later…what specific thing set you off, Kaveh? I’m surprised you haven’t punched me yet.”
Kaveh panics, accidentally pushing the ice too hard against his skin. “I…I don’t know.”
“Loverboy is offended? Everyone knows the two of you live together!”
“I won't make that a secret. Not anymore, fool!”
“Huh…so you don’t deny being lovers…hah…”
“We are not lovers! I—I don’t care about him…”
“Then why did you interrupt my great proposal a few minutes ago? You will surely not care if I waltz into the office of the Akademiya’s scribe tomorrow and—”
Kaveh loses his cool.
Alhaitham’s eyes are elsewhere, focusing a great deal on the droplets of water that drip in the sink.
“I see.”
The motion makes Kaveh soften, untensing his shoulders as he directs his gaze somewhere else as well, thinking hard.
“Haitham.” He quietly begins.
“...”
“Sometimes I think…if we had not fallen out the way that we did…”
Pause.
“...would we have turned out a bit differently?”
Alhaitham looks back at him carefully, eyes assessing. Kaveh painfully wonders what goes through his head in a moment like this. He wonders if Alhaitham’s mind speedruns like his own, ready to jump off of a mountain if this turns out to be the worst topic to bring up. Surely not, right?
The exhaustion and overstimulation of several ice chunks against his warm skin must have tossed Kaveh out into seeking out the truth like this. If he gets hurt, then it can simply do nothing further to him. He is numb.
“...I don’t dwell on the what-ifs. ” Alhaitham eventually replies. “People make their own decisions. In whatever path it leads them on…I cannot decide where to steer them, nor do I want the responsibility of doing so.”
Kaveh considers those words.
“…that is the case I usually apply to most people.”
“I see.”
“You and I…well. Everything that happened cannot be unchanged.” Alhaitham shrugs. “You are a noisy individual who creates quite the ruckus—” Kaveh opens his mouth to retort, but Alhaitham squeezes his thigh to interrupt.
“Haitham—”
“...but perhaps I have spent enough time with you by now that it has somehow lodged its way into part of my routine.”
Kaveh blinks, not understanding.
Alhaitham releases his hold on Kaveh, making the architect bite the urge to call him back as he watches his junior slowly stand up to begin putting away materials.
His back is turned when he delivers his next words, and Kaveh curses that he cannot interpret whatever kind of face Alhaitham makes as he speaks.
“I find myself thinking on quiet days that I would like to have more of the same, if anything, the routine I have now brings me a sane sense of stability. When things happen that interrupt that sense of stability, then…”
Alhaitham’s fingers move to loosely grip the countertop.
Kaveh understands that sentiment, of Alhaitham seeking out that life of stability and calm, of how much the role of Acting Grand Sage had taken on him before eventually stepping down when Sumeru experienced a long enough period without any major issues.
“To someone who only wants to live their life in peace, any external factors introduce unpredictability into the equation.” Alhaitham once muttered those words about another individual, according to the traveler, but it no less mimicked his own well of values.
Kaveh is surely one of those “external factors”...
He makes a decision.
“I promise, then. Haitham, when I have saved enough, I will move out of your place and out of your hair.” Kaveh does not know when that day will come and the thought of living inside an empty house terrifies him, but… “Perhaps it will lend you some more—“
Alhaitham cuts in. “You don’t seem to understand.”
Kaveh quirks a brow. “What don’t I understand, Haitham? You make it clear that you prefer a place to yourself. I’m surprised you’ve kept me around this long, if I’m honest.”
Alhaitham turns around, an agitated expression written across his entire face. Kaveh bites his lip, wondering what he possibly said wrong.
“Are you not the Light of Kshahrewar, Kaveh?” Alahaitham speaks, walking back closer and closer to Kaveh until he is back down on his knees, eyes never once leaving the sight of the other. His tone is one that Kaveh has never heard in his life, heart beating faster if Alhaitham dares to lean in any closer. “…the man whose name continues to be sung along the halls of the Akademiya?”
“I…”
“Are you not the same man who agreed to kiss me behind a tree if it meant I would attend my own graduation?”
Kaveh surely feels like he has died there right on the spot. His heart explodes instantly. A rush of heat spreads through his entire face like wildfire.
“We agreed not to talk about that! Ever!”
Alhaitham ignores him. “Your request caught me by surprise that day, but I did not deny it. Perhaps you, someone who prides himself on understanding others and their feelings, have always been able to read my own faster than I ever could.” He pauses, lifting a hand to take the melting chunks of ice away from Kaveh.
“It was the first time someone had kissed me, perhaps the first time since I began to live alone without my grandmother that I ever felt something drastically different outside of research and deadlines and my own well being.”
“But, even to my own surprise, the kiss felt as if it were a normal part of my routine back then. Somehow, over the time we spent together working on that project, you pushed your way in there.”
Kaveh’s head buzzes, screaming inside to stop it. He actively searches Alhaitham’s whole face for the reason behind it all.
“Oh, Haitham.” He does not want his heart to break further. “Why…why are you bringing this up?”
Alhaitham shakes his head. “Whatever you seem to think, I do not keep you around to simply keep you around.”
A pause follows. A very long one, at that.
“You…are a part of my stable routine, Kaveh. Even if that is contradicting to how we often converse with each other, what I imply with that is something you can figure out all on your own.”
“Haitham…”
“Besides, I also have no qualms with you here. You do keep the place tidy when you remember to clean up every once in a while.”
Kaveh stumbles over his words, losing any sort of bite to them. His hands reach for Alhaitham’s own, crushing them with a tight squeeze. “I..I am not your personal housekeeper. Bastard.”
If Alhaitham feels any pain with the gesture, he does not show it. He simply offers that same small smile that Kaveh has not seen in years. “I did not say that.”
“You…you—” Kaveh has lost any strength to argue.
Alhaitham reads his mind. “Have you lost your argument?”
“No..no! Just—”
Kaveh’s mind shatters into a blank space when Alhaitham is suddenly leaning in, familiar lips touching where most of the pain is around his eye for the briefest of seconds.
Kaveh cannot compute.
He is still for those first few seconds as his brain catches up to his heart, barely moving his lips when Alhaitham uses a hand to cup Kaveh’s cheek and bring them closer, using those same lips to lightly place upon Kaveh’s own.
When Kaveh is sound enough to react, he makes a small noise of approval, finally moving his own mouth in tandem with Alhaitham’s. It is slow, his arms reaching around Alhaitham’s neck to get a better grip, closing his eyes and losing himself in whatever this is.
The kiss is different from the one they shared as companions at the Akademiya. Alhaitham initiates this one instead of Kaveh, closing into their space without a breath to spare, mindful of Kaveh’s injuries as he handles everything about the scribe with a type of fond care that Kaveh cannot comprehend.
Kaveh tries to pour everything he can into it, shutting his eyes and opening his heart as he melts into that of what Alhaitham does the same, two broken halves slowly trying to push themselves back together.
It is enough to make him tear up if his eye did not hurt so much.
When Alhaitham pulls away, Kaveh is speechless. His eyes are blown out, bringing a hand to his own lips to try and understand what just happened.
He is silent, staring at Alhaitham as if he transformed into a whole new person.
“Have I finally found a way to keep you quiet?” Alhaitham brutally teases.
His eyes search over Kaveh’s face.
“Say something or your mouth will go dry, Kaveh.”
Kaveh blinks.
Then suddenly he fists the fabric of Alhaitham’s shirt and pulls him forward quickly, unsure if his face shows his anger of everything taking so long, the relief and happiness of Alhaitham being the biggest fool on earth by reciprocating his feelings, or the mild arousal Kaveh hasn’t been able to shake off since Alhaitham forced his thighs back down on the toilet seat.
“It’s been years, Haitham. Did it really take me getting knocked in the face for you to realize it?”
“No. I’ve realized my feelings for a long time. Longer than what you might think.” Alhaitham confesses it as a truth. It is the truth. “It’s the first time I’ve heard of anyone getting hit in the root cause of defending me, however.”
Kaveh tries to breathe out calmly, unable to suppress the laugh that makes its way out. “I promise you it was the wine that gave me the adrenaline. Sober me would never do it!”
“In whichever case, you got injured.”
Kaveh closes his eyes, letting his forehead rest gently atop of Alhaitham’s. “Thank you, then. For taking care of me just now.”
“It’s fine, Kaveh.”
Kaveh cannot resist. He places his own tender kiss atop of Alhaitham’s temple, using his uninjured hand to soothe out those wrinkles of frustration that have been bugging him from the moment he saw his junior this morning.
“My own thank you for taking care of me this morning, then.” Kaveh gives him a small smile, whispering. “I appreciate it.”
Alhaitham stares at him for a while, eventually nodding.
“But really, Haitham? Tell me. What did you eat for dinner in the desert?!”
Alhaitham seems to have lost his control. He tries (and fails) to smother his snort of amusement, suddenly leaning forward until he falls all the way in, letting his head drop lower and hit Kaveh’s chest.
Kaveh burns red all over again. “Agh, what’s wrong with you today?!”
He feels something rumble against his chest - was it really? Alhaitham hiding a laugh? A soft chuckle?
Kaveh..? Making the one and only former Acting Grand Sage laugh?
Kaveh’s brain begins a million ways to interpret such an action, lost in the options until he realizes that Alhaitham stays still for a long time after doing so.
Kaveh believes it almost out of embarrassment until he hears the faintest hum of a snore coming from down below.
“Oh, Archons…” Kaveh sighs. He hesitates for only a second before pulling Alhaitham closer to his chest and holding him there. He weaves his free hand through windswept gray hair, relishing the way his junior sags into him.
“Let’s both rest.”
Around two weeks later, with the help of Alhaitham constantly tending to them, Kaveh’s injuries heal rather quickly over the following days. It’s enough for him to feel well enough to take a stroll through Treasures Street and around the corner to Lambad’s Tavern after a few meetings.
Mehrak is by his side and he feels better than ever.
“Mr. Kaveh! You’re back!” The young bartender that Lambad recently hired, Darina, is all smiles upon seeing him. “Man, I’m really glad that nimwit didn’t scare you off from ever coming back here again.”
Kaveh laughs, settling down with Mehrak on the seat beside him. “You’re right! And as if I’ll let one man keep me away from my drinks. Ah, but it all feels quite silly after the fact.”
“I would hardly call it silly.” She vehemently shakes her head. “You were defending your partner’s honor!”
“W—what!” Kaveh splutters. “Anyone would have done it! That fool claimed he’d find a way to sneak into Alhaitham’s office at the Akademiya and do something horrible just because his original research proposal wasn’t approved!”
“I admit. Alhaitham is strict with his job, and even I chide him for it sometimes but that’s not a reason to declare—”
“You’re rambling, hah!” Darina laughs softly. “And no, I don’t think anyone else would have done what you did…you really seem to be the only one that can understand the man. Plus, he stays here the longest only when you’re around. There’s new chatter around the city about you two, by the way.”
“.....”
Darina notices how uncharacteristically shy Kaveh turns at those words, setting down the rag she was using to dry the wine goblets before continuing on. “Well, the fool from before is banned from ever coming here again after today. More importantly, you appear content and much happier than I’ve seen you before, so I am OK with what happened.”
Kaveh’s shoulders slowly sag with relief at the news. “Yes. Quite so.”
Darina heaves out a content sigh, apparently reminiscing a good memory. “Hah…that obnoxious tool got what he deserved at the end of the day, so everything is truly well and good. Don’t worry about paying the damages, either. That tab is settled.”
Kaveh raises an interested brow, leaning in to learn more.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Do you really not know?”
“Not at all!” Between slowly returning to his blueprints, teaching the few classes he was in charge of at the Akademiya and traversing whatever line he crossed with Alhaitham all those weeks ago, Kaveh had been a bit preoccupied to think about anything else.
“Alcohol mixed with a jab at your own work efforts, Mr. Kaveh. I couldn’t believe it myself! That man took a hit defending your honor as well!”
What was this girl chattering about? “Wha—when was this?! What and who are you talking about?”
“Oh, isn’t it obvious?”
Kaveh blinks.
“Oh.” The young girl scratches her cheek. “Sorry. I thought you knew? The one-who-shall-not-be-named walked in here a few hours ago and it all happened so quickly.”
Kaveh blinks again. “You didn’t tell me this first?”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Kaveh! I thought you already knew! Your partner—ah! I mean, the one-who-shall-not-be-named really only took a few scratches and cuts by his jaw, but nothing too bad. It was over in under a minute! He’s got really good fighting skills. Dodging, too!”
“Archons…” Kaveh sighs. He grabs Mehrak quickly and scoots off of the chair. “Excuse me. I have to check on someone.”
“Right, uh. Please come back soon!”
Kaveh barges into their shared home with intent and purpose.
“Haitham!”
“Haitham, where are you?! Don’t pretend you’re not here, either—”
Kaveh turns the corner into the living room, immediately greeted and relieved by the sight of a tall figure laid comfortably on the couch. An open book is laid across his face, hiding whatever reaction he may be holding at the outburst.
“Hello.” Alhaitham mumbles from beneath the pages. “You’re being awfully loud.”
Kaveh huffs, watching the way Alhaitham slowly pulls the book away. “Of course I am! What did you do? Are you alright?”
“Worrying over me?” Alhaitham smiles up at him. It is a small one, and still a very, very new sight for Kaveh to behold and get used to again. “I can take care of myself just fine.”
“I do not normally consider you to be an impulsive person, Haitham.”
“Impulsive? Stop fussing and come here.”
Kaveh will not let up so easily. He places both hands on his hips, undeterred. “And you’ll do what?”
Alhaitham is silent, and Kaveh huffs.
He walks closer towards the couch, faltering a step around it when he sees the huge bandage stuck to Alhaitham’s cheek.
“Haitham! The girl told me it was only a few scratches and cuts?”
“Yes,” Alhaitham answers. “All in one place, though. I’m fine.”
Kaveh hums with distaste as he sits down close to his junior, slowly reaching his hand out to soothe the bandaged area. “Agh, this is all my fault.”
Alhaitham shakes his head, using one of his hands to place over Kaveh’s own and the other to wrap around Kaveh’s waist.
“No, everything is fine.”
This…is also something Kaveh is trying to accustom himself to.
Is…Alhaitham…the clingy type? Kaveh is already getting tomato red at the physical affection, too embarrassed to even continue looking at Alhaitham’s face.
Alhaitham’s arms wrap around him almost entirely, washing over him in a blanket of sunlit warmth.
“Kaveh. What are you overthinking now?”
“Nothing!”
Alhaitham assesses him brutally, soon using one of his hands to cup Kaveh’s cheek. “The bruises are healing.”
“Yes, well. I had your help, so thank you.”
“Hm.” Alhaitham hums.
Kaveh feels something thrum below his skin, putting aside his embarrassment to look over Alhaitham with a worried expression, running his thumb over a visible vein. “You’re shivering a bit.”
“I’m—”
“And don’t say you’re fine!’
Alhaitham shrugs.
“Perhaps I left the windows a bit open, waiting to hear when you’d come back.”
Kaveh burns a deep, deep shade of red. “Haitham…you utter…”
The barely-there, inconspicuous smirk on Alhaitham’s face despite having his eyes closed is enough to call him a bastard.
Kaveh needs something to get the upper hand, so he quickly leans in and plants his lips again atop his junior’s. There! They’re definitely cold, and he twists his head around just a bit to continue warming them up.
He couldn’t help it!
Alhaitham lets out a quiet sound of surprise before falling into the rhythm of his lips slowly savoring the taste of Kaveh, tightening his hold around the small waist belonging to the architect.
Kaveh brings his own hands to gently hold both sides of Alhaitham’s face, guiding their lips in a languid manner until he can somehow ease away any discomfort that Alhaitham still feels from the injury.
Or perhaps it is half of the excuse he makes up in his head to justify the choice to kiss Alhaitham again and again.
Alhaitham certainly does not object.
When they run out of breath, Kaveh pulls away hesitantly. “Was that okay?”
Alhaitham blinks. He uses a solid five second pause to actually contemplate the question.
“Yes. It was quite good.”
Alhaitham paying him a direct compliment? Kaveh must be dreaming!
He leans in again just as Alhaitham does the same, pressing their lips together once more for a shared warmth as Kaveh sighs into it. This feeling is rather addicting, he should confess.
“Can I lay down here with you?”
“If you ask me more than once, I’ll say no.”
Kaveh rolls his eyes. “I’m looking for a cuddle after a long day, and I can warm you up!”
“You setting the kitchen on fire can also warm me up.”
Kaveh smiles bigger. “Nice try. I’m a great cook, and you love my meals! You do, don’t you?”
Alhaitham is quiet.
“Hah! You do!”
“They are adequate.”
Kaveh hums happily, climbing over carefully to find the perfect spot atop of Alhaitham and settling his head on his partner’s chest. He breathes out a soft sigh when he feels strong arms fully wrap around him.
Placing a soft kiss atop of Alhaitham’s heart settles Kaveh to close his eyes. “Rest well, Haitham.”
Alhaitham squeezes.
“You as well.”
They fall asleep just like that not long after, cocooned inside of a shared life in a shared space in a shared…?
Kaveh has found a word for it now, and amongst the pressure and tumultuous conflict that comes with his position and line of work, at least having this will leave him the happiest for the rest of his days.