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The mattress beside him was warm. And… No. Could it really be…? One arm flopping to the side, sluggishly, confirmed his waking realisation as true. Save for him, the bed was empty. As such, an alertness quickened within him, forcing himself upright, despite the fatigue clinging to his eyelids. Wincing prematurely, Kaveh blinkered his eyes, finding that the room was not, in fact, brimming with morning light, and that, yes, Alhaitham was nowhere in sight.
The knowledge that he hadn’t overslept did nothing to satiate him, to lull him back to sleep, although it did relieve the anxiety that had been working his stomach into a knot. The day had yet to dawn, and he had time yet. But where was Alhaitham?
The bedroom (Alhaitham’s, since his own had yet to be cleared of wood chippings reared from last night’s project of a shelf adjustment) provided him no answers – the bed, remaining devoid of a familiar warmth, and the door resolutely shut. Shuffling forwards and planting feet on the floor did confirm, however, that Alhaitham had been absentminded enough to forget his slippers. That, in itself, was worrying, since it was a habit instilled into the majority of children of Sumeru City from a young age. What had risen Alhaitham in such a hurry?
Claiming his own slippers, and bringing Alhaitham’s, he quitted the room – admittedly, rather blearily, and he feared he had a hard time with the door handle. Emerging into the hallway, a waning light could be glimpsed from the corner, and it was instinct to follow it, where it grew brighter upon entering the living room.
“Alhaitham?” There hadn’t been what he meant to say, he had meant to ask why Alhaitham was sorting through the bookshelves as if it were typical weekend afternoon, but the concern overcame his incredulity.
Alhaitham had paused in his endeavour, and turned. “I woke you.”
The lamp on the table burned dim and Kaveh stepped forwards to displace the shadows on Alhaitham’s face. He almost wished he hadn’t closed the distance upon seeing Alhaitham’s eyebrows hunch in unnecessary upset. “You didn’t, actually. At least, I didn’t hear you leave, if that’s what you’re thinking. What are you doing up?”
Alhaitham’s eyes, puffy, fell from his and remained unblinking. His gaze had followed the slippers Kaveh had placed on the floor before him, though he remained unmoving. It seemed that whatever had woken Alhaitham had disturbed his ability for lucid contemplation – a clear signifier that something was amiss.
It was natural to reach out, press fingertips against the upper arm of Alhaitham’s kurta. It seemed to ground Alhaitham, reign him back to the silence of the early, unlit morning, the dusky shadows of the living room. A hand closed over Kaveh’s own. Alhaitham, as ever, was warm.
“I had a dream.” It was a soft admission – one without weight, a simple fact.
Dreams, something once entirely foreign, were now able to enrapture, delight, torment, the people of Sumeru City. Regardless of the time that expired between the termination of the Akasha and to the present, dreams were an unprecedented caution. Unpredictable and ungovernable. A blight for particularly rigid scholars. A blight for those who had found relief in the impossibility of being held captive in the realm of imagination and memory. Kaveh was still struggling to adapt, feared he never would, to dreams and nightmares alike.
Dreams for Alhaitham, however, were a different experience than his own. They were rarer, or at least Kaveh heard less about them due to their less perplexing natures than his own. When Alhaitham was truly affected by one, he disliked relating the details – clearly believing that, as it had already happened, there was no need to recall it once more – and thus they were forgotten as quickly as they had been experienced.
From Alhaitham’s perspective, he could understand why. There was no room for objectivity in a vision borne from total subjectivity. The most Alhaitham could do was splice apart and fathom the memories or influences that had comprised his dream, but what good was that when it gripped you in your personal feeling?
Alhaitham was just as susceptible to emotion than anyone else. Before him was living proof; Alhaitham, grip firm on his hand, eyes searching, aching, seemingly, for some kind of consolidation, or something deeper that he didn’t know he could offer.
“You couldn’t get back to sleep?” Kaveh asked, stepping around the issue. It was uncertain whether Alhaitham wanted to discuss it or not. In fact, it wasn’t clear exactly what Alhaitham wanted.
A shake of the head, a glance back to the bookshelves. “I needed a moment.”
It made sense for Alhaitham - a tactical retreat to the living room, to the bookshelves, before facing the matter of a potentially dangerous situation (in this case, sleep) once more. “You’ve not been here long then?”
“No,” Alhaitham said in a breath. His eyes had regained lucidity when they met Kaveh’s once more, and his gaze darted over Kaveh’s face before he sighed, releasing Kaveh’s hand from his bicep. “Go back to sleep. Wasn’t it you complaining you had to be up earlier than usual today?”
Alhaitham’s attempts at dissuading him from administering his concern were rather hapless when tired. His tone lacked his usual dry bravado, and his humour was stripped back entirely. He sounded wearied and worn. How was Kaveh ever supposed to turn from him?
“And you’re the one who insisted we sleep earlier than I was planning to, so it’s fine. I can spare an hour or two.” Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed at this, although his fingers moved apart to accommodate Kaveh’s as Kaveh placed his hand in Alhaitham’s. “Besides, we’re both awake now, so as long as you’re awake, I will be, too.”
Alhaitham appeared unconvinced by this, since his gaze ran over Kaveh’s face once more, as if counting the multiple signs of fatigue. Well, it wasn’t as if Alhaitham looked particularly sprightly either. His eyes were cushioned by puffy skin – a reliable sign to ascertain that Alhaitham was tired. It was rather cute, and therefore distracting.
With his free hand, he cupped Alhaitham’s cheek, plush, and ran his thumb underneath the sensitive skin. In response, Alhaitham practically caved in, head resting on the contact, eyes sliding shut. It was clear that Kaveh had won him over.
Really. If only Alhaitham were this malleable when he were fully awake.
“What would you like to do?” He assumed a soft tone – Alhaitham was without his earpieces after all. Alhaitham’s skin was soft, loving, underneath his hand, his fingers.
Alhaitham’s hand twitched in his own, and his eyes opened, hazily, keeping Kaveh in close focus. “You decide.” Presumably meaning that Alhaitham didn’t care either way, so long as Kaveh remained in close proximity.
That was well enough. With Alhaitham in this sleep-ridden, despondent state, it wasn’t as if he wanted to be far from Alhaitham either. Still, what were they to do?
Whenever he had a nightmare, and he managed to inadvertently awaken the-heaviest-sleeper-in-Teyvat-contender Alhaitham, he would insist on being left alone until he had pulled himself together enough to return to bed, where Alhaitham would have kept himself awake somehow so as to drape himself over Kaveh and comfort him in unyielding warmth.
Whenever Alhaitham had a disturbing dream in the past, he had left the bed, gone to the bathroom, and was back within an unassuming five minutes all to tell Kaveh, a light sleeper, to go back to sleep. Kaveh only discovered a nightmare had been the cause of Alhaitham waking up prematurely the next morning, and those were the occasions in which Alhaitham felt it relevant to share.
This was a new experience. Alhaitham was clearly affected, so much so that he clung onto Kaveh… In this instance, how could Kaveh help? There had to be something that made sense, even in his half-functioning mind. He must have had dreams when he was a child, before reaching the cut-off point into adolescence. Before the loss of his father… What had his parents done for him whenever he had a nightmare? Memories were vague and fleeting, shapes and colours rather than solid, tangible things, but he was sure that he could remember looking up at the lampshade of his parents’ bedroom. It had been an emerald shade.
But that wasn’t relevant to the current situation, and would only serve to render him morose if he dwelled upon memories of infancy. Besides, he and Alhaitham already slept in the same bed, so these pallid memories was hardly a solution. His own experiences weren’t helpful here, but…
“When you were younger, when you were with your grandmother, you must have had nightmares,” he started, slowly, as Alhaitham’s eyes were blinking open and shut languidly and it was uncertain how much he was understanding. It was beginning to feel like his hand on Alhaitham’s cheek was the only thing keeping Alhaitham upright. “What happened then? Did you wake her?”
Alhaitham hummed, and then lapsed into a quiet, which meant that he was either deeply ruminating or falling asleep. The latter was hardly ideal since Alhaitham had implicitly agreed to staying up, which meant that he hadn’t wanted to go back to sleep so quickly, most likely in fear of repeating the nightmare. As such, Kaveh withdrew his hand from Alhaitham’s face.
To no avail. It was hopeless – ‘it’ being Alhaitham. Alhaitham proceeded to try and follow his hand, only to abandon the attempt halfway, and, with an exhale, sunk his head onto Kaveh’s shoulder.
Warm breath nuzzled into his neck, his hair, as Alhaitham’s arm secured itself around his back, pulling him closer – if that were even possible. It seemed that Alhaitham were intent on making Kaveh his personal mattress.
“Hey. Are you listening to me? If you’re really that tired we can go back to bed-”
“-ai.” A brief gust of warmth into his neck as a half-spoken word.
“What did you say?” Alhaitham’s sleep-ruffled hair was just as unruly as the rest of him, and also just as soft. His hand had found its way to Alhaitham’s scalp, fingers entangled, as was a habit of his, and of particular liking to Alhaitham.
“She made chai.” Alhaitham’s lips moved against the skin of his neck – he could feel the briefest brush of air against the hair on his nape. It was relaxing as it was exhilarating. He was glad that he could lean on Alhaitham just as Alhaitham leant on him. “She’d drink with me and wouldn’t let me read so I’d go back to sleep.”
So she would withhold Alhaitham’s precious resource so he would lose interest in being awake? It was rather ingenious. And just as amusing. He feared he laughed as he felt a huff of air by his ear – Alhaitham rising to meet his eye. “Alright. Would you like some chai?”
Alhaitham hummed again, which either meant that he was inclined to go along with Kaveh’s suggestion, or that he hadn’t heard Kaveh in the slightest but was obliged to follow Kaveh’s direction either way. When sleep-deprived, Alhaitham became something else entirely. It was similar to when he was fevered - although when taken ill he was arguably more resolute (only, of course, in the belief that he was recovering in the span of twenty-four hours despite being ridiculously weak).
A heated surge of affection rushed through him and he wished for nothing more than for Alhaitham to continue leaning on him, burrowing closer as if to slot together permanently. But these were sleep-addled fancies, and right now, action needed to be taken.
“I’ll assume that’s a yes, then,” he said, gently removing his hand from Alhaitham’s person - which worked to his advantage. As he stepped back, Alhaitham followed after him. Until Kaveh realised - “Hey. Slippers.”
Alhaitham had yet to step into them, and as their destination was the kitchen, it was imperative. Following Kaveh’s gaze, Alhaitham greeted the offending object with briefly registered surprise - confirming that he truly hadn’t recognised Kaveh dropping them in front of him earlier.
Grasping Alhaitham by the elbow, leading him forwards, was enough of a prompt for Alhaitham to follow suit. With feet now slippered, Kaveh led him through the living room to the kitchen, where he lit the lamp.
“Alright,” he said, having readied the necessary ingredients with as much haste as he could muster. Alhaitham had resorted to using the door as a second spine in their ludicrously narrow kitchen, arms folded, before Kaveh stood before the lit stove.
He had only just finished retrieving the spices from the spice rack before Alhaitham swaddled him, arms wrapped around his waist, head buried once more in his neck, although this time Alhaitham’s breath ghosted down the loose fabric over his chest. “So I suppose you’ll be of no help to me during the process?”
Alhaitham said nothing until: “More,” once Kaveh had added the cardamom pods.
“Being demanding is not the same as being helpful,” he responded, although, of course, he acquiesced, adding two, three more pods. With this, Alhaitham seemed content, and hummed, which seemed to resonate dually in Kaveh’s throat. “Any other preference?”
“You make it well,” Alhaitham said, which served as his approval, which meant that the black tea could be added.
Waiting for the tea to steep was a short stretch of quiet, broken only by Alhaitham’s steady exhales, almost silent, against his back, his ear, and the rustle of material as Alhaitham pulled him further, further in - which he realised just in time could be Alhaitham falling asleep on his feet. A pinch to Alhaitham’s forearm resolved this issue, to which Alhaitham huffed against his neck, and the tea seemed ready to be strained.
“Same amount of sugar?” He asked to ensure Alhaitham’s preference remained the same in his less than lucid state.
He received only a hum in response, which had to suffice. A sudden ring of heat pressed to his neck pulsated a shock through his system, causing him to almost drop the sugar pot.
“Hey,” he reprimanded, or tried to reprimand, as he heard the softness in his own voice. Perhaps Alhaitham were feeling just as fond as he was, if the impulsive kiss were anything to go by.
He turned, as he had to in order to pass Alhaitham his mug since he appeared to lack the strength (or motivation) to do so on his own, but apparently this posed a problem for Alhaitham who only tightened his grip. Alhaitham had found his strength it seemed, as it risked crushing against Kaveh’s lungs.
Tapping out against Alhaitham’s wrist was the only way to break free. Placing a precautionary hand against Alhaitham’s chest ensured that the distance would not be closed instantaneously upon him turning and causing the contents of their mugs to be spilt. “Here. Let’s sit in the living room.” The kitchen was too cramped for his liking.
Alhaitham seemed content in following him back to the living room. Sitting across from Alhaitham on the table was near instinct at this point, given that it ensured him a complete look at Alhaitham’s countenance, his mannerisms, every twitch of his lips, his brow. Alhaitham, in turn, appeared to do the same of him, as he found Alhaitham’s gaze unwavering, delegated to staring.
“How is it?” he asked, after having nudged Alhaitham’s shin with his slipper, which seemed to prompt Alhaitham into remembering his chai.
“Good,” Alhaitham answered, praised, which elicited a thrill in his stomach, intermingling with his chai. “And yours?”
Kaveh nodded his own approval. “Your grandmother used extra cardamom,” he noted, as it occurred to him after his second sip. “But you don’t drink chai like that usually.”
“I don’t often drink chai,” Alhaitham said, and when cast a questioning look, he sighed with some light humour. “I’ve associated it with falling asleep.”
“It makes you tired.” That explained why Alhaitham’s eyes were half-lidded. He seemed years younger, almost as if he were a child once more and were being lulled to sleep by sweet tea and a lack of stimulation. “It’s your coffee antithesis.”
Alhaitham hummed at this, and his lips quirked upwards. Nudging at his shin once more for no other reason than the contact, Alhaitham returned this by sliding his other foot over Kaveh’s. “You don’t often drink chai either.”
This was true. “If I’m honest, I much prefer coffee. Or perhaps I drink so much of it I’m disinclined to try something else…” It was a worry, although it wasn’t as if he ingested as much caffeine as Alhaitham.
“Then perhaps we should have made coffee instead,” Alhaitham said with the air of it being an actual suggestion. Huh. Contrary to chai being a relaxant, more than anything it suddenly seemed to be rousing Alhaitham.
If Alhaitham could make a joke then he could just as well take a remonstrance. “In your state? I don’t think so. All it will do is stimulate you, which is the last thing you need. Caffeine can make your imagination hyperactive, you know.” At least, he was fairly certain it were true. Hadn’t Tighnari scolded him with something similar when he divulged of his late-night productive sessions?
Alhaitham seemed to be expecting his retort as he seemed rather pleased with it, smiley demurely over the rim of his mug. With his hair mussed and the lines of sleep padding his eyes, he seemed ages smaller - the Alhaitham of their early days in the Akademiya.
A throb of endearment rang through him, spreading as something sore throughout his chest. Alhaitham was all-encompassing, just him, weakened and quiet, calm and tranquil. Kaveh couldn’t fathom what was occurring behind those eyes, lit with the flickering light of the lamp and beating thrum that was Alhaitham’s very essence.
“What do you dream about?” he found himself asking. It had been occupying his mind after all, and there was hardly a more apt time to ask than sitting together in a peaceful stupor.
Alhaitham blinked, slowly, lowered his mug. There was a pause in which Kaveh watched him trace inscrutable patterns in the air - connecting them. And then, “I don’t recall.”
“Really?” His surprise was unprecedented, considering that Alhaitham barely spoke of his dreams, only seldom telling Kaveh that he had had one. Seemingly it was forgotten as soon as Alhaitham had awoken. “I recall some of mine. The more ridiculous ones I remember.”
Dori transforming into his former lecturer to tell him that he was late in submitting his project and therefore his debt had tripled was hardly likely to be forgotten anytime soon. The fear still pulsed through him.
Alhaitham appeared to be thinking of this one, too, as he smiled. “That’s hardly surprising given your innate tendency to dramatise.”
This comment, although true, warranted another tap to Alhaitham’s shin. “Fine. But, seriously? You don’t remember any of them? Is that why you never talk about them?”
Alhaitham’s head tilted, eyes near imperceptibly narrowing onto something on Kaveh’s left cheekbone. He truly had to think so deeply about it? He seemed to reach a conclusion as his brow furrowed before taking another sip, swallowing before, “The most I can remember is the Akademiya. I was sorting books in the House of Daena.”
Of course, it was typical of Alhaitham to dream about his job. Shelving books in his sleep was hardly riveting. What had Kaveh been expecting? Something with a little more imagination perhaps given how well-versed Alhaitham was in niche topics?
“You were working, then,” he said, his disappointment was apparent, even to him. “Were you the Scribe or a librarian?”
“Neither. I can’t have worked there after all…” Alhaitham was musing now, so evidently there was more to this dream than he had initially remembered. “I must have been unaffiliated with the Akademiya. You were the librarian and you were threatening me.”
“Me?” A librarian? In your dream? So… Alhaitham dreamt of him? As he dreamt of Alhaitham? It was only natural, he supposed, given how their tightly entwined their lives were. Alhaitham was also the last person he saw upon falling asleep, and evidently his presence was felt in sleep, so it wasn’t unprecedented that his own presence would affect Alhaitham similarly.
Still… There was always to remain a lingering embarrassment. A giddiness that failed to rinse away with time. So this was how he affected Alhaitham. It was a perplexing feeling that made him continually aware of his own being, aware that Alhaitham were perceiving him, were actively thinking of Kaveh, were taking in and interpreting every movement, every expression, every thought that crossed his face. Alhaitham was thinking of how to best please him.
He knew these things because he felt the same of Alhaitham, thought of him, sought him out, yearned for him in the deepest recedes of himself when they were parted. Whatever bloomed between them was mutual. They were equal in their care for each other.
“Yes,” Alhaitham said, and it startled him out of his sentimental reverie. What had they been talking about? Dreams? Librarians? “You were telling me my method of sorting didn’t adhere to the House of Daena standard, and that you would get Cyno to escort me off the grounds.”
“Oh.” How… Realistic. Besides Kaveh being a staff member of the House of Daena, it wasn’t exactly an implausible exchange. “And did I?”
Alhaitham pondered before shaking his head, taking another sip of chai. “You didn’t get the chance. A fire broke out and you went to get coffee. I assume at this time Mehrak’s alarm rang and you woke up to make coffee.”
“And this is the only dream you remember?” Surely Alhaitham’s dreams weren’t all so… practical?
Alhaitham shrugged, although his amusement was transparent. “It’s the most recent one I can remember. Why? Does it not adhere to your imaginative standards?”
Mirroring Kaveh’s scolding within his dream was unexpected. A snort worked its way out his throat, and it threatened to choke him as he swallowed his chai. “I don’t have such a thing. But if I did, most definitely. I’m sure your imagination can spare to be more creative.”
“I’ll keep that in mind before I next fall asleep,” Alhaitham retorted with a lustre in his eyes, only for his eyes to widen when Kaveh nudged at his shin again.
“I don’t think that’d be a wise decision considering the circumstances.” What if Alhaitham were to have a repeat of his nightmare? His functionality the whole of the day would undoubtedly be disrupted by weariness.
Alhaitham’s eyes lowered, evidently catching Kaveh’s meaning. A pause lulled between them, and the question was on Kaveh’s tongue before- “You want to be on your own when you have a nightmare. Why is that?”
What? He could only stare, as if to ensure that Alhaitham had, in fact, spoken the words. Alhaitham only stared back at him evenly, solemnly. Alhaitham was serious. Where had that come from?
“Well,” he began, and stopped just as quickly, having to think. He had been so focussed on Alhaitham’s wellbeing that his own had failed to factor in at all. “… I suppose it’s habit more than anything. Nightmares are a product of my own thinking so it'd be up to me to rationalise it. It hardly seems fair to put that burden on someone else,” he felt a sudden self-effacement which made it impossible to directly refer to Alhaitham, as well as looking him in the eye, “especially when you’re sleeping.”
Another pause. His heart was racing; he was more than aware of the detriment of his own thinking, and he was also more than aware of what Alhaitham thought of it. When he dared to lift his eyes, it was to a deeply affected Alhaitham - Alhaitham’s own eyes were closed. Alhaitham sighed, something heavy. When he spoke, his voice was partial, impossibly gentle yet lined with a certain gravity.
“I was of the understanding that you were receptive in entrusting things to me. Whether you view them as burdens or not makes no difference to me. I respect your decision in being alone, if that’s really what you’d prefer, but when it comes to your view in that waking me up is unnecessary, you needn’t concern yourself. In your own words, as long as you’re awake, I will be, too. If you feel you need company, I’m more than willing to be there for you.”
Spoken with utmost sincerity, it was hard to maintain eye contact. A stirring of guilt had struck up within him, and although he knew, had always known, that Alhaitham would have wanted to be with him whenever he was forced to quit the bedroom due to his own prevalent fears, this worked against his own natural disposition. His imagination wasn’t worth disrupting Alhaitham’s sleep schedule. And yet… Didn’t Alhaitham stay up regardless? He was always awake whenever Kaveh returned to bed, and he was always considerate in giving Kaveh space or immediate consolation if needed.
“Are you sure?” He had to ask, too many doubts waylaying him.
“Would I offer if I were indecisive?” Alhaitham returned, his own resolution dissuading Kaveh’s uncertainty.
It wasn’t just an offer - it was a request. Alhaitham wanted Kaveh to wake him if he didn’t want to be alone.
In that case… It wasn’t in him to turn down Alhaitham. “Well… Alright then. If you’re sure.”
“Are you finished?” Kaveh traced Alhaitham’s eye line, lowering to his empty mug. Alhaitham had leant forward, placing his own onto the table beside Kaveh. Nodding, Kaveh followed suit. Alhaitham’s hand curled around his wrist, urging him forwards. “Come here.”
As was well practiced between them, Kaveh stepped once onto the floor, and then bent at the knee to approach the divan. Alhaitham’s arms came around him as he settled onto Alhaitham’s lap, hands winding around Alhaitham’s back, fingers curling through the hair of the back of Alhaitham’s neck. Alhaitham’s hair pressed against his jaw, and his own hair perceived every minute inhale of Alhaitham’s. Alhaitham had evidently pressed his mouth to Kaveh’s nape, fully curving himself around Kaveh’s being.
Rosewater and shea butter - that was Alhaitham. Familiar notes, telling of home. Alhaitham was solid heat against him, and his breathing was just so, chests rising in unison. Underneath the reverberations of his own pulse, he could feel the steady thrum of Alhaitham’s.
Nothing more needed to be said, it seemed, and he found himself more and more inclined to staying in this position, despite the eventual numbing sensation of his thighs. Alhaitham appeared to be of the same mind, a hum of content sounding in Kaveh’s ears, burying itself into bone.
Nothing needed to be said, no, but he had yet to address the issue at hand…. “Can I ask… What was your dream about tonight? What woke you up?” What disturbed you so much you had to leave?
Alhaitham’s grip on his waist loosened, a lone hand straying down his back, a trail of warmth blazing. His head pressed further into Kaveh’s hair, lips speaking directly into Kaveh’s skin, a heated drag of plush. With every syllable sent a tingling sensation upwards to Kaveh’s scalp. “… The other day. In my room.”
The other day? His mind was lagging even more than before with Alhaitham’s warmth bleeding directly into his own. If he weren’t so tired, their direct proximity would be stirring. He forced himself to focus away from the physical, honing in to Alhaitham’s distress. In Alhaitham’s bedroom…?
Ah. “You dreamt of… the spider?” Spoken tentatively - what if the word association were enough to dislodge an instinctual fear?
“Mm.” Alhaitham’s confirmation moved through him, something deep and provoking.
He had approached Alhaitham’s bedroom three days ago, having been summoned by a rather sombre call of his name. Believing him to be on the receiving end of an undeserving reprimand, in that he had somehow sorted Alhaitham’s books out of order from his disciplined index, he had entered the room tersely - “What is it?”
Alhaitham had been still, standing by bookshelves - but his back to them. He had been tense, too. Kaveh had placed his hand on Alhaitham’s arm, since he had been unresponsive. Had he somehow offended Alhaitham to the point of a stifled silence? “Alhaitham?”
“There.” Glimpsing Alhaitham’s profile, processing that Alhaitham’s gaze was stuck elsewhere, he traced Alhaitham’s eye line to the wall his bed was pressed against.
A spider. Quite a large one at that. Still, it was manageable. He could use a mug rather than a glass. “It’s fine. Stay here. I’ll sort it.”
And he had done, along with the help of Alhaitham’s mail and Alhaitham’s bed, serving as a scooper and a raised platform to reach upwards respectively. The spider was lax in comparison to others he had dealt with, and it was out the window in under the span of five minutes. Still, that was more than enough time to wreak fear. Alhaitham’s gaze fixed onto the wall even as he had watched Kaveh discard it outside.
He placed the mug and envelope onto the dresser having stepped down from the bed. “There. Gone. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Alhaitham said, firmly, and finally met his eye. His determinedness in being fine was shaken somewhat, however, when he said, “Thanks.”
It was then that Kaveh should have known how deeply the situation had affected Alhaitham. Alhaitham, who believed gratitude between them was unnecessary when they performed deeds for each other solely because they wanted to, thanking him in earnest?
“I’m sorry,” he said into Alhaitham's hair, a weak consolidation for the remorse he felt. Although he couldn’t relate to Alhaitham’s innate fear, he understood how disturbing it was to find no escape in a torment. “In the future, if there are any spiders, I’ll deal with them for you.” And because it had been his main grievance: “In exchange, you’ll have to wake me up when you can’t get back to sleep. When you’re sleep deprived like this, you’re hopeless. Who else will make chai for you?”
Alhaitham’s laughter was a pleasant, dizzying thing, rushing through him in a low vibration. He felt it in the base of his own being - Alhaitham’s contentment. “Sounds good.”
“Glad we’re agreed.” A kiss to the beating warmth of Alhaitham’s neck, since he had yet to return Alhaitham’s own in the kitchen. “Now, bed?”
“Bed,” Alhaitham agreed and, without warning, went to stand.
He loathed when Alhaitham did this. Really! At times it seemed like Alhaitham didn’t know his own strength, hoisting Kaveh around with ease like he were some sort of clinging vine. “Hey! I’ve told you, at least give me some warning when you do that!”
Alhaitham’s arms had encircled around his legs, and, as a result, he had to look up to meet Kaveh’s eyes. It was entirely irksome to bear witness to such a mischievous expression but be unable to do anything about it. “I’m lifting you. Will that suffice?”
“It’s a little late to give me notice,” he complained, writhing with particular protest when Alhaitham went to turn to his room. “Hey. Put me down.” Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed, and… Was that...? He couldn’t be imagining it, could he? Was Alhaitham seriously pouting? “I’ll use the bathroom before bed.”
He could hardly believe he had to explain his reasoning, but it seemed to prove enough logic for Alhaitham, who sighed, but acquiesced, lowering Kaveh down - although, in a rather unnecessary manner, given how his hands remained in place when Kaveh slid down Alhaitham’s person, meaning that he managed to cop a particularly lengthy feel.
How could he ever have believed Alhaitham were malleable when he was tired? He was just like he always was - incorrigible.
He had to push at Alhaitham’s shoulder in order to truly be free. His glare must have been ineffective as Alhaitham’s evident amusement ceased to diffuse. It was shaming; he found himself laughing despite himself. “I won’t be a minute. Go to bed. Truly, you’re hopeless.”
When he returned to bed, having remembered last minute to extinguish the lamp burning in the living room, Alhaitham was lying awake, looking upwards at the ceiling. He blinked upon Kaveh entering, and Kaveh had barely stepped out of his slippers, towards the mattress, before Alhaitham were sitting upright and hauling him into bed.
“Alright, alright, I get it,” he said, without complaint, as Alhaitham’s arms locked around him once more. “Now, no funny business. I’m really tired, you know, and so are you.”
“I know,” Alhaitham spoke into his throat, and for a second Kaveh felt as if he had spoken the words himself. Alhaitham’s fingers must have woven into the ends of his hair as he felt a similar pulling sensation in his scalp. It was a comforting feeling. “Your chai was nice.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” Alhaitham was warm, implausibly so. There was hardly a need for covers in summer with Alhaitham’s body heat impressing upon him, into him. “Now, sleep. Sweet dreams.”
Alhaitham hummed once more, a softened relaxing note striking the fatigue within him. “You too.”
Whether he fell asleep first or Alhaitham, it didn’t matter. They would find each other regardless, in the depths of dreams, prodding at the outlines of their respective consciousness. In this, they were linked. In this, they were found.
Epilogue
It tore through him, chiselling down to his baser instincts. He had to run - but where? Forwards? The quicksand, quickening a grotesque crimson? Backwards? The drooping flowers bursting forth? Did it matter? There was nowhere to go, it pressed upon him from all corners. A sickening, dizzying blur of white gold - a lone hand sprouting from the sand. If he moved faster, he could make it, for once, he could make it-
He was falling. Impossible. He had just been on the surface, but now he was nowhere. Blackness and nothing. No air, there was no air-
Gasping was instinct, followed by an alert awareness. Eyes forcing open, he realised he was awake. In his bedroom, with the curtains tightly closed, sheets clad with heat as he sweat onto them. It was a dream. Just a dream. And yet… It had been so real.
Because it had been real. Elements of it. The lone figure in the sand. He hadn’t witnessed his father’s demise, but his mind was more than intent on making up for that. How many times had he dreamt the same thing? How many times would the same hopelessness cycle through him?
His father was no more, and he remained. But it wasn't just him alone. Lying to his left - Alhaitham. Deep in slumber, breaths slow and steady. He was solid, warm, alive.
… And he wouldn’t want Kaveh to be alone.
Bracing against the turmoil, he placed a hand on Alhaitham’s shoulder. He couldn’t stand to be by himself a moment longer, he realised. Whether that made him weak or not, he couldn’t think to care. Right now, he knew what he wanted, and Alhaitham would want him to appeal to this.
With a groan, Alhaitham was roused, hand settling on Kaveh’s. “Kaveh.” His name rather than the question. Perhaps the name was more important.
“I had a…” And Alhaitham was blinking awake, shifting himself upright, covers falling onto their laps. Alhaitham’s hand tightened around his own. “Can you hold me?”
Alhaitham’s eyes were searching him in the dark, and he thought he saw Alhaitham nod, briefly, before the distance was closed. Despite being sticky with sweat, a second skin, Alhaitham’s contact was never uncomfortable. He felt it penetrating through him - this familiarity that only Alhaitham could provide.
“Nightmare?” Alhaitham asked, voice resisting his throat. Before he could feel the spike of guilt, Alhaitham only exhaled, full of warmth, and pulled him closer. “What do you need?”
You. But there was no need to say it. Alhaitham had chosen to give himself to Kaveh long ago, and had continued to choose to do so, despite Kaveh’s residual self-doubts and resentments. Alhaitham had chosen him.
“This.” This comfort. This peace. The knowledge his racing heartbeat would soon quieten to beat alongside Alhaitham’s. The knowledge that, when the day broke, Alhaitham would be ready to listen, would want to hear what thoughts possessed his mind. This, this and everything. Alhaitham. “Just this.”