Work Text:
Alhaitham stared down at the note on the coffee table, written in Kaveh’s beautiful handwriting, and rolled his eyes.
Gone on research trip. Be back in a few days, it read. As if Alhaitham didn’t know that, from when they had argued last night, aggressive words yelled at each other. Alhaitham had told Kaveh to go find somewhere to live out in the desert, and Kaveh had sneered back that maybe he would just never return.
A bitter feeling curled in Alhaitham’s stomach as he stared at the note. He wished he had learned how to say what he really wanted, especially to Kaveh. He wished he had learnt not to spit angry words and venom at him, only to regret them later. He wished he could tell Kaveh how he felt, truly, and wished even more so that Kaveh would tell him the same back.
Alas, Alhaitham was not one for idly dreaming, and sighed, dragging a hand over his face. He turned to walk back to his room to begin getting ready to go to the Akademiya.
He left the note on the table.
--
A week passed. Alhaitham barely noticed, content with focusing on his work. Kaveh had been away longer before, so he wasn’t too particularly concerned. Sometimes expeditions took longer than necessary.
Murmurs began within the students of the Akademiya, though. Murmurs of ‘wasn’t it only meant to be a three-day trip? We haven’t heard anything back. They should be back by now.’
Alhaitham ignored them. Kaveh probably got lost with the students, and they would be back shortly. Kaveh would always find his way back home, no matter how lost he got. He had chronically bad luck, so it wasn’t that shocking if he had stumbled into some trouble. Regardless, Kaveh was a fully capable vision wielder, so he was more then able to fight his way out of bad situations.
Alhaitham brushed off the quiet whispers, and continued his work.
--
Two weeks had passed since Kaveh had left.
The note still sat on Alhaitham’s coffee table, and he stared at it longer than he meant to in the morning before going to work.
The officials in the Akademiya were nervous. A research party, led by the Light of Kshahrewar, and four students, had disappeared from a supposed three-day trip. No communication. No sightings.
Unease trickled through the Akademiya. If word got out, it would look bad publicly. Murmurs of search parties began.
A cold feeling grew in Alhaitham’s stomach, and he felt numb as his pen scratched over the paperwork. Mindless.
He’s run into some bad luck. It’s Kaveh. He’ll be fine.
He’ll come back.
He told himself, over and over and over. He told himself that when he woke up each morning and Kaveh hadn’t returned during the night. He told himself that when he went home from work and the house was still horribly empty.
He told himself that when he looked at the note on the coffee table, the words be back in a few days mocking him.
People looked at him strangely, as he drifted through work aimlessly.
Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Eat dinner alone. Go to sleep. Rinse. Repeat.
Every day, on repeat. Alone. Alhaitham felt half asleep, in some kind of weird dream most of the time.
He’s fine. He’ll come back soon.
--
And then, after a month, he came home from a search party in the desert, and he looked at the note still on the coffee table, and he woke up from the dream, straight into the nightmare.
He’s gone.
Something sharp and painful stabbed him in his chest, and then pressed down hard, pushing all the air out of his lungs. Alhaitham’s hand shot out to steady himself on the wall, the other one pressing to his chest, and he gasped shallowly.
He’s gone.
A whimper escaped him, echoed in the empty house. Nothing answered. Nobody answered. The only sound was his own frantic and ragged breathing.
Alhaitham staggered to get out of his boots, trailing sand everywhere, and if Kaveh were home he would hate it. He always got mad whenever Alhaitham trailed sand in the house, he said it got in between the floorboards and damaged them, and he would be mad if he were home, but he wasn’t because he was gone.
Alhaitham inhaled sharply again, and stumbled to the couch, tasting blood, tasting bile in his mouth as he sank onto the cushions, shaking fingers reaching out for the note on the coffee table.
Gone on research trip. Be back in a few days.
His throat tightened, and a sob escaped him, the note crinkling ever so slightly in his grip. Panic shot through him when it crinkled, and he gasped again, putting it on the coffee table to straighten it out, even though his hands felt numb and cold.
It was the last thing Kaveh wrote to him, he couldn’t- he couldn’t throw it away. It was- it was all he had left that wasn’t Kaveh’s empty bedroom and empty belongings.
Alhaitham sobbed again, hand flying to press to his mouth, and he felt like he might throw up. Nausea swelled inside him, barely held back by his trembling breaths and muffled sobs.
“I never-“ he said, out loud, before realising there was no one to hear him speak, and the words choke back down his throat, a bitter pill in his stomach. I never told him how I felt.
He never got to tell Kaveh how much he loved him. How seeing him every morning was the best part of his day. How he would cross the desert every morning and every night just to see him if that was what was needed. How he would rip the stars from the sky, should Kaveh want it. How no matter how much they argued, Alhaitham would rather that then not having him at all. He never got to tell Kaveh how he didn’t want him to move out, not ever.
It was too late, though.
He was gone, and Alhaitham was alone.
He didn’t leave the couch for a long time that night.
--
The next two months passed in a blur.
Wake up. Go on a search party. Come home. Do some work. Eat dinner. Go to sleep. Rinse. Repeat.
Alhaitham was no longer living in a dream, just a slow horrible nightmare that dragged him down each day.
He no longer looked for Kaveh each morning in the living room, or each evening in the kitchen. He couldn’t bear to.
Cyno led most of the search parties when he could, throwing himself into looking as much as possible. As much as Alhaitham and Cyno didn’t get along, they had a silent agreement to work together to find Kaveh. Tighnari even came out a few times to help search, even though he couldn’t last more than a few hours in the desert without needing a break.
The Traveller and Paimon even came out a few times, when their busy schedule allowed it, and combed the desert with an intense fever.
Nothing came up.
Nobody came back.
They had received absolutely no word from the search party. No sightings. Not even a whisper. It was as if they had simply… stepped out of the world. Out of existence, with only the memory of them left behind.
Alhaitham watched one of the family members of the students break down and sob hysterically after a month of fruitless search parties, and Alhaitham wondered to himself if he should send a letter to Kaveh’s mother in Fontaine.
He didn’t. He couldn’t bear to make Kaveh’s disappearance so permanent.
He could feel the eyes of everyone around him on him, wary and pitiful as he drifted through the days, grief so thick and apparent it choked everyone around him. Cyno and Tighnari came by frequently, usually after another dead-end search party, and often brought food. He figured it was their way of making sure he was actually eating something nutritional, since Kaveh had always been the one to cook for the two of them. Alhaitham couldn’t bring himself to do it, even for himself. He could never make his food taste as good as Kaveh’s, and it always tasted sour and bitter going down.
He could see the sadness in their eyes too. In Cyno’s tight set frown, in Tighnari’s forced smile but drooping ears and limp tail. They all grieved, quietly so in the presence of each other. Alhaitham didn’t know whether he was grateful for them coming by or not. He didn’t feel much of anything anymore, just the profound hole inside of him that was Kaveh shaped.
Every night when he lay in bed, after coming up with nothing, he imagined Kaveh lost in the desert. Cold. Starving. Dehydrated. Frightened.
He couldn’t imagine him dead. Not yet. He couldn’t-
He couldn’t think that, he couldn’t let himself believe that Kaveh would just disappear like that. With just a note and an argument being their last words said to each other.
Guilt strangled Alhaitham so often he found it hard to breathe lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Memories of every harsh word he’d ever said to Kaveh replaying in his head. Memories of telling him maybe he just shouldn’t come back, when Alhaitham could never mean that. Not in a thousand years.
It was too late to say that too him though, Kaveh’s bedroom just as empty as it had been for the last three months.
A meeting had been called though, that day, for all the people participating in the search parties. It had been called by the Sage of Kshahrewar. Alhaitham dragged himself there, even though dread weighed him down heavily.
People turned and looked at him, but he ignored them. Cyno and Tighnari were there, hands intertwined tightly, and when they spotted Alhaitham they immediately came over to stand next to them. Quiet support.
Alhaitham barely heard the words spoken by the Sage. They ring so loudly in his ears, but at the same time, he felt as though they barely made their way to his brain.
“We have unfortunately come to the tragic conclusion that since the disappearance of the research party three months ago, there does not seem to be much possibility of the group having survived this long within the desert. Whilst it breaks my heart, and everyone’s heart, greatly, I and the rest of the Akademiya have come to the decision to halt official rescue efforts. Due to the fact that we have received no correspondence, nor any sign, of the research party, we have come to the logical conclusion that they may have passed on. You may continue to search in your own time, should you desire to, but from here on out they have been declared most likely deceased. Please do not hesitate to contact me, or any of the other Sages, should you find yourself needing support in these troubling times,” The Sage said, voice hollow and blank, and bile rose in Alhaitham’s throat immediately.
A hand grabbed his arm, warm, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe all of the sudden.
Most likely deceased.
Official rescue efforts halted.
Most likely deceased.
Deceased.
“-haitham? Alhaitham? Let us take you home. Take deep breaths. Come on, it’s okay, come with me,” Tighnari was speaking to him, voice tender and thick with tears, and Alhaitham can just hear choked cries coming from Cyno next to Tighnari. Alhaitham turned to stare at him, eyes impossibly wide, and Tighnari’s bottom lip trembled as he looked at Alhaitham. Their grief choked them all. “We’ll take you home, come on,” Tighnari soothed, and Alhaitham realised dully he was shaking, shaking violently as Tighnari held his arm and began to tug him away.
His feet moved without thinking, his entire body numb and cold as he let Tighnari and Cyno drag him home. He can still hear Cyno crying, and Tighnari’s barely held back sniffles.
Deceased.
The bile rose again in his mouth, and he stumbled to the side, pressing his hand to his mouth.
“Alhaitham?” Tighnari asked, and Alhaitham drew in a sharp breath, unable to breathe properly around the crushing pressure in his chest.
“I’m going to- I’m going to be sick-“ he strangled out, and stumbled more to a garden on the side. Tighnari made a wounded noise, and immediately came to Alhaitham’s side as he crouched over the bushes.
It almost felt like Alhaitham was watching it all happen from outside of his body. Watching his body tremble and retch into the bushes, Tighnari speaking soft words to him and rubbing his spine even as he cried as well. Cyno desperately trying to muffle his own sobs next to Tighnari, barely heard over the sound of Alhaitham vomiting. His knees shook and threatened to give out, so Tighnari wrapped an arm around Alhaitham’s shoulders to steady him.
Distantly, Alhaitham can hear himself sobbing in between bouts of retching. Can hear himself begging quietly, can hear himself saying no, no, no, over and over. Cyno cried more. Tighnari was shaking as well by then.
Eventually, Alhaitham must stop vomiting, because Tighnari and Cyno are dragging him away again, and they’re at his house, his empty and horrible house. He still felt out of his body, as Tighnari brought him to sit on the couch, and Cyno pressed a glass of water into his hands.
“I know it hurts, Alhaitham. There’s still a chance he’s okay. We’re still going to go out looking, okay? You can come with us. We’re here for you, Alhaitham.” Tighnari was speaking still to him, hand still resting on the centre of Alhaitham’s spine and rubbing soothing circles, and if it were any other time, any other place, Alhaitham would be horribly embarrassed to be crying silently into his hands with Cyno and Tighnari there. In the grand scheme of things though, his pride and image was the last thing he cared about then.
All he cared about was the fact that Kaveh had been announced deceased.
Not gone. Not missing. Dead.
“I can’t- I never- I never told him I- I loved him-“ Alhaitham suddenly choked out, voice strangled and thick, and Tighnari sucked in a sharp breath. Cyno wasn’t in the room anymore, apparently gone to weep alone in Kaveh’s bedroom to the memory of his presence. “I never got to- we never- I didn’t tell him I love him.” Alhaitham’s voice was so small, so unlike him, and it still felt like it wasn’t coming out of him. Tighnari was stifling quiet sobs next to him, fingers curling against Alhaitham’s spine.
“I know. He- he loved- loves you too, Alhaitham. I know it hurts, I know,” Tighnari mumbled to him.
Part of him, a bitter and angry part of him, wanted to yell and scream at Tighnari and Cyno to get the fuck out of his house. Only Kaveh and him were allowed in there, and they were disturbing that peace. Part of him wanted to spit at Tighnari’s face that he didn’t know, and what if it had been Cyno gone instead? He had no idea what it was like to have the love of your life declared deceased. How dare he try and say he knows, when he could never know the pain in Alhaitham’s chest, in his bones, his lungs and his heart? In every fibre and muscle, every nerve, every cell? He could never know what it felt like to have a piece of you just disappear, with nothing but a note left behind.
The other, more logical, part of Alhaitham’s brain, knew that that was unfair to say to Tighnari and Cyno. They didn’t love Kaveh in the way Alhaitham loved him, but they loved him, nonetheless. They would feel his disappearance strongly and painfully. Maybe in ways Alhaitham would fail to understand. All they could do for each other was comfort one another as best as they could.
All they could do was try to get used to their new reality.
--
Alhaitham took an indefinite leave of absence from the Akademiya. The Sages were angry at losing their Scribe, and only the Sage of Kshahrewar seemed to be even slightly understanding. Regardless, they couldn’t stop him, and he was tenured so they couldn’t fire him. He’d never taken a holiday in the entire time he’d worked there, so they bitterly still paid him.
Cyno asked him if he wanted to go on search missions with him in the desert, but Alhaitham couldn’t bear the thought of stepping foot in the desert again. Couldn’t bear the thought of being in the place that had taken Kaveh from him. Couldn’t bear the thought of stumbling upon Kaveh’s body, and having to really accept that he was gone. It was the same way he couldn’t bear to be in the Akademiya, knowing he had been one of the people to suggest that Kaveh go on the trip. Knowing he had signed off on the research proposal. Knowing that he, and the Akademiya, had sent Kaveh to his death.
Instead, Alhaitham stayed at home. Locked his door, shut his windows, and lay on his couch, staring at the ceiling tiles. He counted each individual one, and then recounted them. And then recounted them.
He tried reading, but couldn’t focus on the words. Each day miserably slid into the next without him really noticing. The only things that happened of notice were Cyno and Tighnari coming by with food and tight and concerned faces. They tried to get him to leave, to come out with them, to get off of the couch and do anything that wasn’t letting himself waste away.
He refused each time, but couldn’t even bring himself to be angry at their insistence. Just quietly thanked them, and shut the door behind them.
Alhaitham slept mostly on the couch. Something about his room felt stifling. Maybe, some part of him wanted to be near the front door. Just in case a miracle happened.
Sometimes, he dreamed. Dreamed of the sunlight glittering off Kaveh’s hair as he smiled at Alhaitham, dragging him through the markets. Dreamed of the flush of his cheeks, the red of his eyes as it sparkled in the sun. Dreamed of the dimple on his left cheek, and the mole just above his right eyebrow that Alhaitham often thought of kissing. Sometimes in the dreams, he did kiss them.
He dreamed of Kaveh’s laugh, Kaveh’s warm voice greeting him, telling him he had made dinner. Kaveh telling him about his day, his excitement, and Alhaitham listening quietly and contently. He even dreamed of their Akademiya days, underneath that gazebo they had often frequented and studied under. Dreamed of Kaveh with his head in Alhaitham’s lap, sleeping peacefully. So young, back then. Even older, as roommates, Kaveh had had a penchant for falling asleep on Alhaitham when they sat on the couch together.
The memories weren’t always so lovely.
Some of them came in dark flashes. Kaveh’s tears streaming down his cheeks when they were young students, as he tore their thesis up in front of Alhaitham, the sting of Alhaitham’s own tears on his cheeks burning again. Hateful words spat and yelled at each other over stupid inconsequential things in their home. Kaveh’s bright and brilliant anger, hands flailing as he swore to leave the second he could.
Sometimes, the dreams weren’t memories at all.
Blood, staining sand grains. Blonde hair caked in it. Red eyes dull and lifeless. A hand disappearing into quicksand, or sticking out from ruins. A lifeless face, staring back at him, mouth moving and saying why did you leave me? Why did you make me go? The expanse of the desert, on and on forever, suffocating Alhaitham, pressing down and filling up his lungs with grains of sand.
Most of the time when he had those nightmares, Alhaitham woke up screaming and drenched in sweat. He often threw up after them, in the darkness of his home and bathroom, alone with no one to stroke his back or comfort him.
Every day, he just swam in and out of bleary and painful consciousness, too worn down and exhausted to do anything except mourn. Mourn for his love, mourn for the man he had let ruin him so horribly. Mourn for the empty bedroom down the hall.
At some point, he stopped answering the door when Cyno and Tighnari came knocking. Just told them to leave, without even bothering to get up.
He existed off the food they would drop by, since they usually still left it at his door once they visited, but he could still feel himself wasting away.
Part of him hoped that he wouldn’t wake up, and he could reunite with Kaveh in some sick way.
He couldn’t even cry anymore, tears all dried up as he stared at the ceiling and counted the tiles until he fell asleep again.
And then, one night, a month (his best guess, he stopped tracking the days) after Kaveh had been declared deceased, Alhaitham woke to the sound of a key turning in a lock, and the front door opening.
He had dreamt this so many times, he didn’t even move, just let the coldness seep into his bones, knowing that it was all just some sick conjuration of his imagination, wrought with grief.
He held his breath, waiting for the call of Alhaitham’s name, the tearful exclamation that Kaveh was home, he had missed him so much, he was sorry, so sorry.
“Tch, couldn’t even sweep up the sand. Probably all over the god damn house,” a voice, so terribly and achingly familiar, said, tired and annoyed, and everything inside Alhaitham moved. It was like he had been electrocuted. Kaveh never said that in my dreams, he thought, as he scrambled up from the couch, heart leaping into his throat.
Please. Please, don’t let this be a dream. I can’t keep doing this.
In the shadows of the night, Alhaitham could see someone bending down to carefully place shoes next to the doorway, moving his boots as well. Alhaitham felt a conflicting rise of nausea and hope swell inside him, sweat beginning to form over him.
“Alhaitham, why are you sleeping in the living room?” That voice said, and Alhaitham’s hands shook as he turned on the lights. He had to see. It had never happened like this in his dreams. It had always been some great big teary spectacle, not- not Kaveh coming home in the middle of the night and complaining about sand. Light flooded the entryway, and Alhaitham barely flinched at the sudden change of brightness, and everything inside of him screamed in desperate joy, desperate hope.
Kaveh was there. Standing in front of him, still turned away. His cape was torn slightly at the bottom, and he was covered in sand, hair dirty and dull from all the sand and sweat caked into it. A doubtful part of Alhaitham’s brain piped up, and said look how sad you’ve become. You’re hallucinating now, and you’re getting good at it. Look how realistic this Kaveh looks compared to the others. You’re pathetic.
“You always complain about your-“ Kaveh said as he straightened up, turning around, and for a moment, a wonderful and heart-breaking moment, everything in the world came to a screeching halt when Alhaitham could see Kaveh’s face again, and Kaveh suddenly stopped speaking.
He had smears of dirt and sand on his face, and there was a cut on his left cheek. He still had that mole over his eyebrow. The feather in his hair was still there, but it was just as dirty as the rest of him, hanging limply. His vermillion eyes were bright though, so bright and full of life and surprise as he looked at Alhaitham.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only noise being Alhaitham’s shaky and heavy breaths, a thousand emotions racing through him at the same time. The grief of the last four months. The all-encompassing relief at seeing Kaveh again. The doubt, the dread, that this was still all a dream, a hallucination, and Alhaitham was about to wake up any moment and it would all slip away from his fingers.
Kaveh’s eyes flicked down momentarily, before flicking back up to Alhaitham’s face, and he looked mildly concerned and confused, blinking at Alhaitham.
“Haitham… are you okay?” Kaveh asked, so soft and gentle. Alhaitham staggered forward, his body sluggish and heavy from days of disuse, until he was standing right in front of Kaveh. He could smell him, smell the faint scent of the mourning flower soap Kaveh had insisted on spending a ridiculous amount of Alhaitham’s money on. Could smell the sweat and dirt and dust of ruins caked onto him. He could feel his breath, puffing against Alhaitham’s exposed collarbones, and oh gods, he’s actually here. He’s actually alive.
“Are you… drunk?” Kaveh accused, but Alhaitham barely heard it, his hands moving before he was even aware of it, grabbing Kaveh’s shoulder, so warm and alive, and dragging him into him, to press against him. His arms wrapped around Kaveh’s smaller yet muscular form, squeezing tightly, and he shoved his face into Kaveh’s neck, breathing in shakily the scent of him, to tell himself that it was real, he was home. Kaveh squawked in surprise, and Alhaitham could hear how fast his heart was racing from where his nose was pressed to Kaveh’s pulse point, but it just filled Alhaitham with sickening relief because he was alive.
Hands started to press into Alhaitham’s chest, beginning to push, and panic gripped him tightly and quickly, as he tightened his grip around Kaveh.
“Don’t. Please,” he croaked, voice hoarse and ruined from disuse. He could feel himself beginning to tremble, his breathing shaking as well.
“Haitham, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” Kaveh whispered, rigid and stiff in Alhaitham’s grip. Alhaitham inhaled Kaveh’s scent again, dragging his nose across the warmth of his skin and the sand grains clinging to his neck, and felt the way Kaveh shivered minutely in his arms. Tears, hot and choking, burned in Alhaitham’s eyes, and it had been weeks since he’d last cried over Kaveh, but they were coming fast then. They started to drip down his cheeks, and he didn’t even bother trying to stop them. “Did you really miss me that much? It’s only been a few days…” Kaveh mumbled, and for a moment, shock ran through Alhaitham.
A few days?
He shuddered, and then sniffed, and Kaveh stiffened even more, before relaxing just a bit, his arms coming up to hold Alhaitham’s biceps gently. The last four horrible months played over and over in Alhaitham’s mind as he tried to compose himself, tried to say anything to Kaveh that wasn’t thick with tears.
“You… you think its only been a few days?” He choked out, and felt the way Kaveh froze immediately. His hands moved back to Alhaitham’s chest, and shoved him back. Alhaitham wanted to cling to him, wanted to hold him as close as possible forever, but he went, if only so he could drink in the sight of Kaveh’s face again.
He looked horrified, and his crimson eyes were sparkling just a bit with unshed tears. After a second of staring at Alhaitham though, something small shifted in his expression, turning sad and conflicted.
“What do you mean?” He hissed under his breath, wary, and Alhaitham drew in a wet and shaky breath. He reached up to cup Kaveh’s cheek, feeling the heat of his skin underneath his palm. Another tear slid down Alhaitham’s cheek, collected at his jaw, before dripping down to the floor, before he could find the words to speak. He almost didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to speak the words into existence and acknowledge the pain he had been through.
“Kaveh, you’ve been gone for four months, I- they- we- we all thought you were dead,” he whispered, and he should’ve been embarrassed about the way his voice shook terribly, almost as much as his fingers shook against Kaveh’s cheek. Kaveh’s face instantly paled, eyes going impossibly wide.
“M-Months? It… it was only… it was only four days. It was only four days,” Kaveh mumbled, horrified. His eyes widened more, and Alhaitham could see the gears turning in his head, before a hand flew up to grip Alhaitham’s wrist tightly, squeezing so hard Alhaitham almost winced. “I’ve been gone for four months?” His voice was hushed, filled with fear and shock, and Alhaitham felt his bottom lip tremble, tears rushing up again.
Kaveh’s face fell, looking distraught, and then Alhaitham was tugged swiftly back into him as Kaveh inhaled sharply, pressing Alhaitham’s face against his shoulder. Alhaitham felt something inside him crumble, a wretched and haunted noise escaping his throat as all of the grief he had felt the last four months smacked into him, washing out and down his cheeks in salty tears buried in Kaveh’s blouse.
“I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead,” his voice sounded broken even to his own ears, as he wept into Kaveh. He could hear Kaveh sniffle and stifle a noise, grip tightening around him. “I tried to find you, but I- I had no idea where to even start, and every day felt like… like I was just leaving you out there to die. After three months they- they told me that it… it was unlikely that you had survived out there that long without being found.” He was frantic, desperate, each word falling out of him in a heartbroken babble, and pain shot through his chest so violently and quickly, making him swallow as he pressed his face further into the grittiness of Kaveh’s skin, not caring that he was getting sand on his face. “I thought you were dead,” he repeated, the words burning his mouth, and it felt like a giant weight had been ripped off of his shoulders, but it still hurt so much, even though he had Kaveh in his arms.
Kaveh’s breath hitched messily and wetly, his face burying into Alhaitham’s shoulder as well, tears wetting his shirt.
“I’m sorry, I’m here now,” Kaveh murmured, and the words felt like a cold wave washing over him. I’m here now. Alhaitham shuddered violently again, trying to drag Kaveh into him more, hold him as tight as he could so he never had to let him go, never had to be separated from him again. He would never let him go again, not even if the Archons requested it.
Alhaitham doesn’t really know how long they remain there, entwined and mourning the last four months in the entryway of their home. After a moment though, Alhaitham was gripped with the terrifying and strong need to tell Kaveh everything, to tell him how much he loved him. He couldn’t- he couldn’t waste another minute of their lives not saying it, not sharing it. He couldn’t lose him again having never told him.
He lifted his head, and cupped Kaveh’s face again. Kaveh had tears streaming down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the dirt on his face, and Alhaitham absently swept one away with his thumb as he committed Kaveh’s face to memory, to make sure he never forgot this moment again, the moment that Kaveh returned to him.
And then, Alhaitham surged forward, and smashed their lips together. It felt like the first sip of water he had had in so long, rushing through his body and cleansing it of everything horrible that had happened, as Kaveh gasped so sweetly into his mouth. Alhaitham grabbed Kaveh’s other cheek, cradling his face in his hands as he pulled him against him, feeling the way Kaveh’s fingers curled in his shirt, before he relaxed, and kissed Alhaitham back in a way that had sparks exploding inside Alhaitham’s heart.
It felt like he could finally breathe after so long, oxygen rushing through his lungs and veins. Blood roared in his ears, finally alive after so long being stagnant in grief. He tried to pour all of his love into the kiss, tried to tell Kaveh with his lips just how much he loved him, how he would do anything for him. He would rip the stars from the sky for him, he would count every grain of sand in the desert for him, he would swim the ocean should he so much as mention it.
Kaveh pulled back first, gasping for air, his tongue flashing over his lips. Alhaitham closed his eyes as he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. He inhaled once, twice, before opening his eyes on the third shaky and trembling breath. He lifted Kaveh’s face gently, fingers shifting to drag over his skin and wipe the tears away, thumb tracing his cheekbone as he kissed him again, less desperate, more longing.
“I love you,” he murmured, the moment he pulled back. He couldn’t let Kaveh go on not knowing any longer. Kaveh’s eyes widened again, his eyes shimmering with tears of joy, a smile breaking out on his lips, before Alhaitham was kissing it away, unable to bear being apart from him more then a moment. His fingers still quivered where they held Kaveh’s cheeks, even as he pulled away once more. “I thought- I thought I’d never get the chance to tell you that. I thought I’d never get the chance to kiss you,” he said, voice strangled and thick with tears. They had spent so long, so long, not telling each other, and Alhaitham hated it, hated every second, because he had lost Kaveh before he had had the chance to tell him, and he was never going to let that happen again.
Kaveh blinked rapidly, before smiling softly once more, kissing Alhaitham’s lips once more sweetly, tasting more divine then Alhaitham could’ve ever imagined. He moved to pepper them down Alhaitham’s jaw, down his neck, ghosting over his Adam’s apple as Alhaitham leant his head back, trying to swallow down the sobs and cries that crept up his throat to escape his mouth.
“It’s okay, I’m here now, I’m here. I’m okay. I’m here,” Kaveh was whispering, over and over and over, kissing each tear that slid from Alhaitham’s eyes away, even though the words made them come faster, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest for the first time in months. “I love you. I’m here, I love you, Haitham,” he mumbled into Alhaitham’s neck, and Alhaitham sobbed, fingers clenching into Kaveh’s shirt before he tugged Kaveh’s face back up, starving and hungry for his lips as he stifled his cries into Kaveh’s mouth, trying to consume every piece of him that Kaveh was willing to give up. One thought kept repeating through his head, his heart, as he kissed the love of his life finally.
“I’m never letting you leave my sight again.”