Work Text:
Alhaitham leaned against the doorframe of Kaveh’s office with his arms crossed, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he nodded toward the empty vase Kaveh had already set out. “Damn. I can’t even surprise you anymore, angel?”
Kaveh knew there were worse things in life than knowing exactly how he’d be spoiled every year - and predictability had never made the tradition feel any less precious. Rising from his chair with a fond hum, he pulled Alhaitham inside, accepted the anniversary flowers he’d known full well were coming, then nudged the door shut and slipped both arms around his husband’s neck to draw him closer.
“I don’t need surprises,” Kaveh said quietly, setting the bouquet - complete with a flower for each year they’d been married - behind him on his desk before slipping one hand up to stroke through the hair on the nape of Alhaitham’s neck. “Besides, I’d miss this if you ever stopped.”
Alhaitham let himself be pulled down into a soft, sweet kiss, arms winding around Kaveh’s waist with easy familiarity. They stayed that way for several long moments, content to steal what little time they had together between classes wrapped in the warmth of one another’s embrace.
“Make sure to tell your students your husband got these for you,” Alhaitham murmured when they finally pulled back. “One of them asked if I knew you in class today - then after I said yes, they asked if you’re actually married or if you just say that because students keep trying to hit on you.”
Kaveh giggled. “What did you tell them?”
“The truth.” A rare, playful grin danced across Alhaitham’s lips as he tucked a strand of blonde hair behind Kaveh’s ear. “That your husband is a big, strong genius who doesn’t like to share, and who has no intention of letting you be stolen away from him.”
Kaveh shook his head with an affectionate sigh. “They’re going to figure it out one of these days. You have to stop running your mouth every time one of them asks about me, or I’m going to start considering it sabotage.”
“You’d really consider it a crime that I like to brag about my husband?”
“Your Rate My Professor page already has multiple comments claiming students can ask about your husband near the end of class, and you’ll forget to assign any homework.”
“I don’t forget,” Alhaitham replied with an unconcerned shrug. “I just enjoy getting to talk about you, so I choose to be more lenient on days when they ask.”
Kaveh had only just opened his mouth to answer when a knock at the door startled them both. Alhaitham stubbornly clung to him and stole one last quick kiss before finally allowing Kaveh to shove him away.
Running his hands along the front of his shirt then quickly smoothing his hair down, Kaveh tossed a reproachful scoff over his shoulder before turning to the door.
“Ah! Hi, Sethos,” Kaveh greeted as he opened it. “Are you here for office hours?”
Sethos - one of the students taking both Kaveh’s Physical Dynamics of Architecture and Alhaitham’s Deshretian Linguistics classes this semester - nodded.
“I just had a question about the homework. I can’t figure out the right formula to use for number four, but I - oh! Hi, Professor Alhaitham, sorry,” he said, only noticing Alhaitham standing behind Kaveh halfway through the sentence. “Should I - um... come back later?”
“No, that’s alright! Professor Alhaitham was on his way out,” Kaveh assured him, punctuating his words with a pointed look in Alhaitham’s direction.
Alhaitham sighed melodramatically. “I suppose I was. I just had to drop something off, but I do have a class in a few minutes. Or... oh. Actually, I’m already late.”
Without the slightest hint of repentance, Alhaitham indulged Sethos’ curious glance toward the extravagant bouquet on Kaveh’s desk, entirely too pleased with himself. Then, with a leisurely wave of his hand, he strolled out the door.
“I swear to god they’re together!” Sethos whispered fervently the next day as the class waited for their linguistics lecture to begin. “I went to Professor Kaveh’s office hours yesterday, and I really think Professor Alhaitham was bringing him flowers!”
One of his classmates scoffed. “Even if he was bringing him flowers, that doesn’t mean they’re married. Maybe Dr. K won an award or something and he was just congratulating him.”
“No no, hear me out,” Sethos insisted, leaning forward with wide, passionate eyes as a small cluster of students gathered around his desk. “They were alone with the door closed, and it was a huge, fancy bouquet of Sumeru roses. And Professor Alhaitham was just standing there like he owned the place when I walked in.”
Scara narrowed his eyes. “No way. Dr. A is always talking about his husband in class - there’s no way he wouldn’t have mentioned if he was literally married to the guy in the next classroom over.”
“He’s never given any details about his husband’s job - but he’s told us that he’s brilliant, great at math,” Sethos argued, ticking off his fingers as he went, “gorgeous, well-known and accomplished in his field, has a doctorate - he’s describing Professor Kaveh to a T!”
From the seat beside him, Scara scoffed into his red bull. “What, you think Dr. K’s the only hot math nerd with a doctorate and a nice ass-”
He broke off abruptly at the sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway. They all spun their heads around to find Professor Alhaitham leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in their direction - but he didn’t look annoyed, merely amused.
“By all means, continue.”
Scara accidentally inhaled his next sip and immediately began coughing as Sethos launched into damage-control mode.
“Sorry, professor!” he squeaked. “We were just talking about the likelihood of your husband being someone who works here, that’s all.”
“Ah.” Alhaitham’s eyebrow climbed a little higher. “And whose ass, pray tell, did you deem me worthy of marrying?”
The students shared a slightly panicked glance, trying to come up with something believable without giving themselves away. Finally, a girl in the back row offered, “A professor in another department, maybe? Are we... on the right track?”
Alhaitham exhaled something akin to a laugh through his nose. “Well,” he said, voice smooth and lilting as he dropped into the chair at the front of the room. “I’m flattered you’re all so invested in my love life. I suppose I do talk about my husband often. Alas, even though I’d love to spend the next hour telling you all about his ass, we do actually have quite a lot to cover today.”
They all nodded, properly chastened, pencils poised above their paper as Alhaitham launched into his lecture with his usual efficient yet slightly overwhelming pace. Once they were finally dismissed, they wasted no time in gathering in a clump in the hall around Sethos to resume their discussion about the man they’d taken to calling Mr. E - the elusive husband.
“Okay, so the question is,” Sethos said in a hushed tone, “how do we find out for sure? Even though Professor Alhaitham talks about his husband constantly, he’s a really private guy - and we’ll get even less information out of Professor Kaveh.”
“I don’t know,” another student, Siraj - whose face resembled a tightly clenched ass - piped up. “I think you’re reaching. Nobody would marry that dickhead.”
“Speak for yourself,” a girl named Moona muttered saltily.
Waving away Moona’s thirst with a disinterested flick of his hand, Sethos tutted at Siraj. “You’re blind if you think they’re not in love. Everything fits! They went to the same graduate school, Professor Alhaitham is always hanging around his office for no reason - Dr. K checks every box of info we’ve learned about Mr. E.”
Unamused, Siraj shot Sethos a disdainful look. “Nah. In Professor Kaveh’s Tuesday seminar, he never indulges any discussion about his personal life, no matter how many times we ask. He only ever says stuff like 'my husband would argue about this' or 'you’re lucky my husband wasn’t here to hear that' - but if it was Dr. A he was married to, wouldn’t he have said so by now? Why would they hide it? It’s not against the rules for faculty to be in a relationship.”
Sethos had been asking himself that same question for weeks.
“I - I don’t know, okay? Maybe they don’t want people pestering them about their relationship. But I just... I just know they’re together. I swear, last week I saw Professor Kaveh wearing a blazer that Dr. A had on just a few days earlier! It didn’t even fit him, it was way too big.”
“Laundry day, old clothes,” Siraj said dismissively.
Sethos shook his head vehemently. “I think I saw them eating together and holding hands in the courtyard by the humanities building last Wednesday! Explain that.”
“Get your vision checked,” Siraj deadpanned. “Seems like a personal problem.”
Sethos stomped his foot, braids swishing indignantly behind him. “Whatever. What about last month when Professor Alhaitham showed up to class with a coffee cup labelled 'Kevin'?”
“... You are aware that Dr. K’s name isn’t Kevin, aren’t you?”
“I - obviously I know that! But maybe the barista misheard it and wrote the wrong name on their cups. Or maybe it’s a cutesy thing, you know? Like they call each other by weird names as an endearment or something.”
“That’s a stretch,” Scara muttered under his breath.
Losing patience, Sethos groaned and threw his hands pleadingly into the air. “What about the baklava Professor Kaveh was eating during our exam last week?”
Thoroughly unimpressed with his attempt at justification, Siraj rolled his eyes. “What about it?”
“Dr. A had baklava with his lunch the very next day!”
“Wow. They have similar taste in pastries. They’re definitely dick to ass on the down low. Undeniable.”
Scara snorted into his hand, but Sethos just flopped dramatically against the nearest wall, now even more committed to finding actual proof since his classmates seemed determined to shoot him down - namely, Siraj. Something about that guy just rubbed Sethos the wrong way, and he had every intention of proving him wrong, no matter what it took.
“Just wait,” Sethos hissed. “I’ll prove it somehow.”
Scara gave him an exaggeratedly sympathetic pat on the arm as Siraj turned and strutted away with a click of his tongue.
“Why do you care so much? Just let it go already,” Scara muttered as they turned toward their next class.
“... I don’t know.” Sethos stared at the two professors’ classrooms on opposite sides of the hallway for a moment before giving a helpless little shrug. “There’s just something about them, you know? Can’t look away.”
For the next several days, Sethos wracked his brain for any sort of evidence, no matter how small, that might reveal the identity of Mr. E. He scrutinized every piece of clothing either professor wore, everything they brought with them to class, every interaction he managed to catch whenever they crossed paths - but he didn’t manage to learn anything significant until the following Monday.
They were just settling into their seats for their architecture lecture when Professor Kaveh arrived, looking a little more rumpled than usual, hair noticeably frizzy as though he’d gotten very little sleep the night before. Even so, he somehow still managed to look unfairly radiant.
Before Sethos had time to wonder what had happened, however, the classroom door clicked open. In walked Professor Alhaitham, carrying a stack of papers which Sethos assumed had to be their graded exams from last week. He crossed the room without a word, set them on the front desk, then leaned down to murmur something into Kaveh’s ear.
The classroom fell into silence as every ear in the room swivelled toward them like a field of tiny satellites. Even if his peers dismissed Sethos’ theories out of pure spite, he knew every last one of them was just as curious as he was.
Alhaitham spoke too softly for Sethos to catch a single word, but he nearly upended his desk anyway when Kaveh leaned forward slightly, resting an absentminded hand against Alhaitham’s chest before tutting at him and nudging him away with a reluctant smile tugging stubbornly at the corners of his mouth.
Sethos fought with everything he had not to cheer, instead jabbing his pencil repeatedly into the back of Scara’s hand beside him as a triumphant grin spread across his face. Scara, entirely unimpressed, yanked the pencil out from his fingers and scribbled a note in the margin of Sethos’ notebook.
Dr. K pushed him away. He was weirded out by how close Dr. A was getting
Now the sound Sethos had to swallow was a groan of pure indignation. Snatching his pencil back, he scrawled a simple response underneath.
FUK U IM RIGHT
By the halfway point of the semester, Sethos was beginning to question his own sanity - not because he thought he was wrong, since he knew he wasn’t, but because he’d spent more time focusing on the relationship status of two of his professors than his actual coursework. Determined to settle the matter once and for all before midterms rolled around and his grades paid the price for his fixation, he finally decided on a more concrete plan: surveillance.
Not in a creepy way, he insisted when Scara’s immediate response to hearing it was to call him a stalker. He was simply occupying a perfectly normal corner of the library with a perfectly normal view of the faculty lounge he’d seen the two of them disappear into together on multiple occasions, all with perfectly normal regularity.
Finally, one glorious Friday morning, he got his answer.
He was partway through the box of baklava he’d brought as a sneakie snack - something like method acting, he supposed, given how often he’d seen both professors eating it. Curled up in his chair with a book he hadn’t read a single sentence of, Sethos’ eyes were fixed across the library on the front doors, waiting patiently for the dynamic combination of blonde and grey hair to enter.
Midway through an overly ambitious mouthful of pastry, the library doors swung open with a quiet click. Sethos immediately straightened in his seat, dropping the baklava back into its box with an undignified plop before hurriedly brushing the crumbs off his cheeks.
In walked the two professors side by side. Unfortunately, they weren’t holding hands - but they were walking close enough together that Sethos’ optimism remained unshaken.
They were locked in a hushed conversation as they walked, clearly bickering about something - but instead of turning into the faculty lounge, they continued past it toward the history section. Swivelling in his chair as slowly as humanly possible so as not to draw attention to himself, Sethos scooted sideways to keep them in view as they turned down one of the rows of bookshelves lining the edge of the library.
Professor Kaveh reached up for a book on a high shelf. When Alhaitham, the taller of the two, tried to pull it down for him, Kaveh promptly smacked his hand away, climbed onto the ledge of the bottom shelf to give himself enough of a boost to reach it himself, then tugged free a hefty book on Sumerian history.
He hopped back down and flipped rapidly through the pages, clearly searching for something - but Alhaitham, apparently having decided to become as annoying as possible, reached over and flicked several pages back the wrong direction. Kaveh elbowed him with an affronted little tut and continued rifling through. After another few seconds, he let out a quiet exclamation of victory before stabbing a finger halfway down the page and turning the book toward Alhaitham.
“I told you!” Kaveh hissed, enunciating dramatically enough with each syllable that Sethos could read every word on his lips.
Alhaitham held up his hands in concession, bobbing his head in a gesture that indicated he was giving in. But just as Sethos began to wonder whether he could approach them to try and listen in on their conversation without looking too suspicious, Alhaitham slipped a hand onto the small of Kaveh’s back and leaned closer.
Sethos clenched his cheeks in anticipation.
For an agonizingly long moment, he thought that was going to be it - another maddeningly suggestive piece of evidence that wasn’t quite decisive enough to prove him right. But then, finally, after months of wondering... Kaveh reached up, caught Alhaitham by the jaw, and tugged him into a quick, faintly irritated kiss, looking every bit as vindicated as he did exasperated.
Sethos’ heart launched itself gleefully into his throat.
“GAY!”
The entire library turned to stare - and only then did Sethos realize he’d apparently shouted it aloud rather than keeping it inside his head where it belonged.
Kaveh and Alhaitham both jolted, their heads snapping toward him. For a long stretch of silence, the library was so still that the only sound came from a few stray pens slipping from startled hands. After what felt like an eternity, Sethos slowly rose to his feet, offered the library at large something he hoped passed for a charming, apologetic smile, and muttered sheepishly, “Sorry, I’ve got a, um - a cold, so...”
Ignoring the deeply confused stares following him, Sethos hurried over to the history section and slipped into the aisle occupied by the two men he was finally confident really were married.
“Oh my god,” Kaveh breathed as he approached, glaring at Alhaitham like it was somehow entirely his fault. “Seriously? Again? Am I ever going to win?”
Alhaitham shrugged. “I thought this semester might finally go to you. Not my fault you kissed me in the middle of the library.”
Cheeks burning - though nowhere near embarrassed enough to overpower the thrill of finally being proven right - Sethos held his arms up in a wordless plea for mercy.
“Hi, professors. Sorry, I just, um... I’ve been telling everyone you two are married, but nobody would believe me. It’s okay if you want to keep it secret, though - now that I know, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”
Kaveh sighed. But instead of scolding Sethos, he shoved the book against Alhaitham’s chest and dug into his own pocket for a slim wallet.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to keep it a secret,” he said sourly, pulling out several crisp bills and holding them out toward Alhaitham with obvious reluctance. “We make a bet every semester whether anyone will figure out we’re married, but this absolute asshole -” he paused long enough to shoot his husband a scowl, “- always blabs about me so much in class that I’ve never won a single time.”
A smug smile spread across Alhaitham’s face as he accepted the money and tucked the book beneath one arm.
“Skill issue,” he muttered.
“Sabotage,” Kaveh snapped back, bapping Alhaitham’s arm petulantly as he attempted to wrap it around his waist once again. “You’d better watch your mouth next semester, or I’m not doing the bet anymore.”
Rather than retreating, Alhaitham drifted even closer with the unmistakable satisfaction of a man who considered being scolded by his husband one of life’s greatest pleasures. Ignoring Kaveh’s half-hearted protest, he ducked his head to brush a gentle kiss to his temple.
“Not a chance, angel.”