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“Hey, this is so unfair!!”
“Well, it’s only unfair to you because you’re the one losing,” Jamil laughs.
The huge study echoes with his own voice, it’s big and spacious, silky words bouncing off the marble walls. The room is almost the size of a small ballroom, shelves decorating the borders and a huge window with the view of the garden. A low table by the edge of the window, by the seat by the window sill, the sun from the garden is bright against the aura of the room. In the center of the study, on top of a nest of pattern blankets and soft pillows, lounge two boys and a small game of mancala in between them.
This room is Kalim’s favorite study in the whole palace, though Jamil often points out that he doesn’t even use it for the right purpose. But alas, he was dragged into the room by kalim anyways, and he’s been here since that morning.
He almost laughs at Kalim’s pouty face, boy did he look cute when he was mad, and it sure did feel good to win every single turn.
“Are you cheating? Are you sure you didn’t move any beads while I wasn’t looking?”
“No, I'm just that good.”
“Well, I guess that’s true, my Jamil really is great after all! But I don’t want to play anymooorreee~~~!” More complaining spills out. “You never let me win once!”
“IIt’s not really winning if I just let you win. Go read some books if you’re bored, you know. Actually try to study, maybe?”
“One day, I’ll get you for sure!” Kalim mutters, trying to stop the red turban from falling off his head in the process. It’s not like he fixes it right anyways, Jamil thinks, since he always puts it on for him instead.
So Kalim is off to find a fairy tale on the many, many shelves, and Jamil is left to curl up like a cobra in the huge nest of pillows on the floor. Shivering a little, the room is a little chilly on the inside compared to the sunlit pavement outside the window, and the servant child is left curling up and seeking warmth for his exposed arms. Besides Kalim’s mumbling, it’s entirely silent, not a single noise but a few birds chirping in the garden through the glass.
It happened so suddenly, another morning where the servants were all panicking and rushing about the house, and Jamil greeted Kalim’s sleepy face as usual. Without a clue with what was happening, all they were told was just to stay together and stay out of trouble, not to bother anyone and go play inside the palace. Unfortunately for him, Kalim had dragged Jamil off to play a board game, and here they were now. Jamil still knew what was going on, of course: Kalim’s dad and his new wife (though he suspected she wouldn’t last for the rest of the year just as all the others did), and the baby was finally here. They expected a baby girl, but its just that the pregnant woman was small and tiny herself, so everyone expected the labor to be hard on her, which needed all the servants to guard and aid her. Even so, there were also the other 25 little children that needed to be taken care of without the presence of either of their parents.
But they trust Jamil, Jamil has responsibilities and is treated as completely capable. They know he was such a smart boy, and Kalim did love him so; they’re friends, after all!! And Jamil thought of Kalim as his friend too, even if he was a little bit of a bird brain. Did that mean he liked him? Well, yes- but no, but-- yes…? He wasn’t sure. Kalim makes him so annoyed sometimes, but points off because they don’t scream at each other like he does with his sister. The heir treats him like an equal, and makes him feel appreciated. Kalim seems to like him for him, right? After all, they’ve been glued hand-in-hand since they’ve been in diapers... Mama and Papa never seemed to show him love anymore, but Kalim always seemed to be there. Plus, he’s kind and funny and happy and pretty and--
Ok, he never will admit that he’s developing a tiny tiny crush on Kalim. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.
Well anyways, it was almost lunch time, he didn’t eat breakfast and he was kind of hungry so maybe he could get away from these weird feelings by going to get something to eat--
“Hey! Jamil!!” Jamil looks up, and the energetic boy in front of him is sprawled out across a bunch of pillows, making an upside down U-shape. In his hand, is a blue book with silver labeling, one he recognized from a long time ago. (It’s indeed a fairy tale book, his mother used to read him those when he was just learning to walk, he recalls, until she stopped, and no longer tucked him in from that day forward. But because servants don’t cry, he tried to stay strong, cuddling with the stuffed tiger he exchanged with Kalim for his beloved parrot plushie, Sally, eventually growing out of the parental attachment. Good memories, good memories.)
“What’s wrong? Ah, are you reading about the Sand Sorcerer again…?”
Kalim beams at him, smiling fondly. “Jamil, you’re so smart! You guessed it right away~”
“I’m only guessing because you always read that one.”
The other boy laughs again. “Soooo~ smaaart~!” Jamil smiles at the floor at the praise without a word.
* * *
“... Have you ever had a kiss, Jamil?” asks Kalim, once more. He looks up at him, raising a brow. “... No? Well, of course I have, haven’t you as well?”
Jamil refers to the few kisses his family have left him on the forehead or cheek, and the ones he has given out in reciprocation. That had to be what Kalim had been referring to as well, right…?
Kalim shakes his head. “Not like that, huh?” Jamil responds. Not like that. Well, this is a soon-to-become disaster.
“No, no!! The ‘true love’s kiss!!”
“Huh?!” The dark haired boy sputters, “We-we’re only twelve, you know, so…!!”
“Yeah, so I was asking if you’d let me try it on you, Jamil?”
Jamil resists screaming at a pitch so high it could match his sister’s tantrums and shatter all the windows, and instead throws one of the smaller pillows next to him at Kalim’s head, sadly missing when the white-haired boy catches it. Jamil is the one whining this time, putting his hands over his face. “ Why!! That’s--!!”
“It says at the end, that the desert princess marries the thief that saved her life, and in the end, they share a kiss… isn’t that the kind of kiss that happens between two close people? We’re close, right?!” Kalim is beaming, all smiles and giggles on the other side of the mancala board.
“B- But, that’s because they’re married!!”
“Aggh, unfair, Jamil! We would be married, I’ve been asking you if we could get married for the past one hundred years!!”
“That!!” Jamil shouts, squealing and overflowing with embarrassment, before collecting himself and huffing. “ That, was when you thought I was a girl.”
“I don’t think you’re a girl anymore though!” Kalim rolls over onto his stomach to face the other boy. Jamil makes a gesture and hides his face in another pillow, the endless supply under his back disappearing by the second as he uses them to hide his embarrassment. He can feel Kalim watching him, he knows he’s waiting for a response through the silence.
This idiot, saying things like that so suddenly…! Don’t you know that kisses like that are only for… for…!
“I’m the servant,” says Jamil, quietly. His voice is muffled into the plush cushion in his lap, and Kalim watches. But the silence again provides no continuation from him, so Kalim just laughs and smiles.
“Since I’m in charge, Jamil has to follow what I say, right??” laughs the sultan heir. “So let me kiss you!!”
* * *
Stiff.
That was the word that describes the way Jamil was acting, trying to keep a cool demeanor and a polite servant attitude. There was really no going back now, he sighed out a “fine” right after Kalim’s command (he really couldn’t say no, even if he tried). There’s no way he could relax, especially with Kalim around trying to kill him by making him die of blood rush. He figured it was worth it, he felt a weird satisfaction in that moment with Kalim bouncing around in joy at his permission.
Jamil had always believed their relationship was positive, that he and Kalim-- they were sure to be together forever, right? His parents, and Kalim’s parents too, they said that too long ago, he remembered. Even if their voices start to change, or if they start acting like adults -- becoming like the rest of the servants and never smile again -- he still believed deep down that they’d still never change -- like the silence of the grand study, their friendship will never go away…
… But boy, is Kalim really pushing the limits on their friendship.
Of course, that was a good thing, Jamil assumed, his stomach flips thinking about Kalim asking to more than friends with a princely expression, smiling coolly, leaning in and touching his cheek like a gentleman, offering a kudu lily in his other hand-- oh Kalim, what a prince you are , remembering his favorite poisonous flower--
He opens his eyes, desperate to stop the rambling, Kalim is way too close to his face, and he’s leaning in. This is it, this is it, this is--
“We shouldn’t,” Jamil stutters out, the exact opposite of cool and collected and he won’t stop freaking out-- AAAGH ABORT ABORT ABORT AAAAAAAA --
But there’s a sliver of hope!! Kalim hesitates, stops, and pulls back half way. Good, good… his eyes are questioning, and Jamil can’t help but compare him to a lost puppy.
“I-I… I might… have poison on my lips, or… something...” he ends lamely, just making things up as he goes.
“You don’t have poison on your mouth,” says Kalim, “I can tell.”
“No you can’t ,” Jamil scoffs-
“Yes I can!” Kalim retorts. “It smells like fake blueberries!”
“Does not!”
“Does too!! I’ve been studying them and trying to get myself to identify poisoned food right away.”
“That’s- what ?”
Kalim scowls at him before sighing. “It was awful, you know.”
Jamil is silent, turning away. He knows exactly what Kalim is talking about, but even so, he wishes he didn’t. The silence returns.
“I’m sorry,” is spoken, almost in a whisper. “But you know, you could’ve collapsed on me if you wanted. You could’ve coughed on me or something, I wouldn't have minded.”
He cringes while he listens, he remembered how he almost fell sideways onto Kalim at his side, or potentially coughed up all that red onto those beautiful clothes. If it wasn’t for his mother immediately turning him away and telling Kalim to avert his eyes while his servant was gushing up blood— also not having the first instinct to scream and worry for her son’s well-being… he wondered at that point, if mother really cared for him in the first place?
He remembered feeling like he was sleeping, and his stomach hurt. A lot. He remembered dreaming of Kalim crying, but that part wasn’t a dream, apparently, because he woke up to those teary eyes dripping over his hand. And Kalim’s sad, sweet smile; “Jamil, Jamil, you’re awake…!” spoke a trembling voice. What a warm feeling, one of being missed and wanted.
…
“It’s… fine, Kalim. I’m okay now. I’m your servant after all.” Jamil is calm and still, breathing even now. Even so, the slower heartbeat is pounding and echoing through all of his chest.
The white haired boy exhales, smiling sweetly. It’s out of character, almost: how he then moves gently to brush the curtain of hair away to reveal Jamil’s eye — bright grey but not quite ocean blue just yet. And he leans in, ever so slightly, but it’s not like it means anything, because they’re only children, after all… (“ Yeah Jamil, still a child!! Stop thinking about romance, this is stupid, you’re still a kid!!” )
“But you’re such a pretty servant, Mimi.”
His breath hitches and he tenses again, and Kalim laughs. “Your hair is always so nice and pretty,” he says innocently. “Like a girl’s. Don’t cut it this month, okaaaay? Then, I’ll kiss your hair all over too! Aahaha!!”
He only hummed, trying to look calm (but really, trying to look anywhere but at Kalim’s eyes).
…
“Your stomach started rumbling just now,” Jamil muses through the silence. “Let’s go have lunch instead, I’ll make curry.”
Kalim laughs (but more like half whining miserably and half laughing), throwing himself on the other boy and sending them both back into the pillows. “Nooooooo!!” he cries out, mumbling something about ‘never again, I don’t wanna’, both of them transcending into a fit of giggles over his dramatics.
Jamil sees Kalim’s face break out into a grin (oh no!! he’s up to no good!), “Jamil, I’m gonna kiss you now!!”
Embarrassed, but still laughing, Jamil responds. “What!! Nooo, you’re spilling the mancala beads all over the floor!”
“I’ll pick them up after!! Jamil I swear-- ”
“How dare you, I was winning by a lot!!” they both burst out laughing again, unable to contain even an ounce of joy inside. The laughter echoes through the wall, innocence radiating through the window and out to the sunlit garden. It’s a nice feeling to share, Jamil thinks. Is this how Kalim feels all the time, since he laughs so often??
“Okay, okay okay okay okay Jamil Jamil stop for real now-- hey I’m serious!! Shush, shush, look!!” Kalim is back to being serious again, putting a hand on Jamil’s laugh with that stupid grin on his face. Jamil stops, raising an eyebrow smugly.
“Since when were you the serious one?” he asks, amused.
“Just when I want to try kissing you already! Come on,” The moment is over and the mood shifts, and that silence is back. Just breathing, and the echoing, and it’s not a good one. He must admit, the giggle festival earlier calmed his nerves, but seeing Kalim up close makes him want to tense up all over again. Kalim’s hand moves to his cheek. “... Come on,” he repeats. “It’s just you and me now.”
‘Idiot,’ he wants to say, but that makes him blush anyways. Gulping, his hand touches and grips over Kalim’s. The white haired child grins in response, forehead now pressed against Jamil’s -- Is this what romance feels like…? No, we’re just master and servant…
“... I’m nervous.”
Kalim smiles, he looks like an angel. “Me too.”
The kiss is short, he felt Kalim stalling a bit in place. But it wasn’t bad , he noted, it wasn’t as explosive as he initially thought it would be. Soft, that’s the word to describe it. Soft, gentle… Affectionate…?
He looks at the floor as he senses Kalim scooting back. It’s a little too quiet, he touches his lips and immediately knows how red he must look, so he waits for Kalim to say something.
But he’s not, so his eyes dart up to sneak a glance at him. The sight he gets immediately engraves in his mind. Kalim is bashful, smiling sheepishly, cheeks a little red.
“I liked it!” He says, beaming. Well, that was good to hear, I would’ve cried and hid in a hole to rot if you didn’t, he thinks, absentmindedly.
“Jamil’s mouth is soft! You’re a good kisser!”
Ah. That’s it. The final blow.
“...!” A weird, awkward gurgled noise comes out of his throat to stop himself from screaming “ Sweet seven above I love you so much!!” It’s already too late for Jamil to tell himself to get it together because he’s already crawling under the pillows and hugging them close to his chest.
“Kalim, you idiot~~~~!”