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Finally.
He’s finally free as the plane lands on the tarmac. Uneasy from the bumpy descent, Kaveh is relieved to be reunited with the surface of the earth. Despite understanding the mechanics of aircrafts–planes want to be in the air, they say!–he much prefers his engineering ventures to be grounded in, well…the ground.
Even more of a relief is his long-awaited opportunity to escape from his roommate. Alhaitham had spent the entire flight in his own little world, closed off from the whirrs of the engines and muted beeps of the seatbelt sign thanks to his noise-canceling headphones. His calmness was distracting and almost unnerving, and even without speaking he still managed to judge every move Kaveh made with his thinly pursed lips and sideways glances.
After gathering his belongings from the overhead bins, Kaveh rushes out of the cabin, nearly skipping along the jetway. He barrels towards the exit of the airport, passing tearful partings and joyous reunions. The automated doors can’t open quickly enough to release him from his prison of floor-to-ceiling windows and over-waxed terrazzo floors.
The air is both muggy and dry at the same time. It’s unbearably hot but the sun is covered by a thick layer of clouds and smog that holds in the sour smell of the asphalt. By all definitions it’s an absolutely terrible day outside, but he takes a deep breath anyways, breathing in the acrid city scent.
He could have waited for Alhaitham. They were here to attend the same conference, would be heading in the same direction to the same hotel. But after spending hours at thirty-thousand feet in the air on a cramped flight stuck next to someone who didn’t understand that airplane seating etiquette stipulates that the person in the middle gets both armrests, he needed a break.
And at least he’d have a break the rest of the weekend. He’d managed to convince another colleague to share a room with him, saving him money and saving him from having to put up with his actual roommate the rest of the weekend. He dealt with enough nagging at home; he didn’t need that to follow him hundreds of miles away.
It’s well into the evening by the time he makes it to the hotel lobby, filled with palm plants and odd statues of oversized geometric animals–an attempt to be impressive that only reads as ostentatious. After retrieving his room key from the front desk, he rides the elevator to the 16th floor.
Garish carpet decorated with abstract patterns of leaves and vines line the hallway he walks down. Gritty and tarnished, the striped wallpaper is scratched and dented from collisions with one too many luggage carts. The pallid yellow door unlocks with a soft click as he swipes the keycard.
He knows his roommate has already arrived; the receptionist downstairs had told him as much. Farghani must have caught an earlier flight or spent less time stalling in the kitschy shops that line the city streets. So, he’s not surprised to find that there’s already a suitcase on the rack in entry and toiletries scattered on the bathroom counter as he passes it.
What he is surprised to find is his roommate.
His actual roommate Alhaitham lies half-seated on the bed in the room, illuminated by the dim amber light of the sconce on the wall beside him. His eyebrows are raised in shock, face shifting from surprise at someone entering his room to confusion at the identity of the person.
“Who is–what are you doing here, Kaveh?”
Kaveh looks at the handwritten number on the paper sleeve that holds his keycard, compares it to the number marked on the fire escape diagram on the back of the door. “This is my room.”
“Very funny.” Alhaitham sets the book he was reading aside and sits up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “It’s my room. That I reserved for myself. With my own money.”
“Well, it’s apparently mine too.”
“How much did you pay them to get a copy of my key?” Alhaitham stands now, crossing his arms as he pads across the stiff carpet. “Or did you just sweet talk your way in?”
Kaveh gasps in offense. “As if I would do something so dishonest and untowardly? No, I assure you. This is the room they gave me.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He holds the paper in front of Alhaitham’s face. “See? 1612. That’s the room we’re in right now.”
“Look, I get that’s what the key says, but this can’t be your room.”
“Fine!” Kaveh throws up his hands in exasperation. “I’ll go down and check again, if you’re so inclined to not believe me.”
Several minutes pass, and Kaveh returns to the room with a huff and a frown.
“Apparently there was some mix up and they oversold the rooms and I guess Farghani never even showed up? I don’t know.” The words spill out in a fluster. He’s too thrown by the circumstances–that yes, he was stuck in this room with Alhaitham as his roommate for the entire weekend–to pay attention to the exact details resulting in the current predicament.
“Well, that’s convenient.”
It’s only then that it hits him–that in his earlier confusion he neglected to notice that the bed that Alhaitham now sits on, head resting in his hands as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, is the only bed in the room. And judging by the dismayed look on his face, Alhaitham has figured that out already.
Kaveh quickly scans the rest of the room, taking inventory of the rest of the furniture: a dresser with a scratched laminate finish topped with an old TV, an armchair with a wooden frame and cushions upholstered in cracking faux vinyl, a humming air conditioner that blows cold air into the already dry room–two nightstands with foggy glass tops flanking the single queen size bed at the center of the room.
“Well, the bathtub’s open.” Alhaitham reclines back on the bed, spreading his legs across the width. He nestles himself into the center of the decorative pillows as he picks up his book again.
“I am not sleeping in a wretched bathtub, you dastard,” Kaveh seethes.
Alhaitham shrugs without looking up. “You’ve done it before.”
Kaveh pauses as he remembers: waking up with a pounding headache and a crick throughout his entire body, forced awake by the bright light of the bulbs above the mirror before Alhaitham shooed him out of the way so he could shower–muscles screaming in protest as he scrambled out of the porcelain, still dizzy from the daiquiris from the night before.
He has a point.
“…That’s not the point.”
“I think there’s a bar downstairs if you need some help getting comfortable.”
“I’ll have you know I’m actually speaking at a panel tomorrow morning, Alhaitham,” Kaveh hisses indignantly. “So no, I will not be getting drunk enough to sleep in a bathtub tonight.”
“Well then, what’s your plan?”
Kaveh slides open the closet doors and pulls out the extra pillows stacked on the highest shelf. Tossing them onto the mattress, he strips away the blankets, wrenching them from underneath Alhaitham’s legs before tossing them onto the armchair. He perches on the edge of the bed, tugging on the decorative shams as Alhaitham rolls away onto his side to watch.
Arranging them in a staggered pattern, Kaveh stacks the pillows in a makeshift wall, splitting the bed into two. Three regular pillows, topped with four decorative shams over the gaps, cemented in place with the decorative throw. He leans back as he finishes, holding up his hands in triumph.
“Didn’t you study architecture?” Alhaitham smirks, a laugh barely held behind his tongue as he speaks. “Surely you can build something better than that.”
Kaveh glares at him over the downy divider, patting the cornice of his creation. With another huff, he stands and stomps back over to the chair. Inelegantly, he throws the duvet on top of Alhaitham before taking the blanket for himself, arranging it neatly on his side of the pillow wall before locking himself in the bathroom.
By the time he returns, Alhaitham is already asleep on his side, facing the edge of the bed. Kaveh doesn’t try to be quiet as he shuffles around in his luggage before zipping it shut. He slumps onto his portion of the mattress and turns around so he faces the windowed wall, frigid air blowing onto his face as he closes his eyes in a meager attempt to sleep.
—
Alhaitham wakes up confused.
He’s accustomed to a certain amount of silence in the morning, used to grounding himself in the quietness of his empty room before he goes on to start his day. But today, it’s broken up by the blowing fan of the air conditioner and the flow of the water from the shower next door as it sluices through the creaky pipes in the wall.
As well as the quiet sounds of another person breathing next to him.
He turns his head to see Kaveh, eyes groggy as they focus on his roommate in all too close proximity. The picture of serenity, he’s curled up against the pillow wall, hugging the cushions to his chest. His bangs hang over his face, catching in his eyelashes. Slightly parted, his lips curl in a slim smile. He’s almost unrecognizable like this–quiet and calm, lacking the boundless energy he usually emits, but somehow containing just as much spark.
Kaveh’s eyelids begin to flutter as he wakes and Alhaitham turns away in a rush, not wanting to be caught delusionally envious of the pillows. He rolls out of the bed, noticing too easily the way Kaveh’s arms stretch into the spot where his chest was moments ago. Shaking his head at himself, he files into the bathroom, shutting the latch on the door with a click.
He had hoped for a hot shower–something to shock his system back into some sort of normalcy. Instead, the water is tepid as it streams over his tense muscles weakly.
When he finishes, he opens the door to find Kaveh standing in front of it, arms crossed and eyes glaring. “Took you long enough,” he mutters under his breath.
“Didn’t take any longer than I usually do.” Alhaitham shoves past him into the main room, toweling his hair dry. “Besides, we only have one bathroom at home, too. What’s your problem now?”
“It’s… different.” Kaveh shuts the door behind him, refusing to elaborate–and for once, Alhaitham understands him.
It was going to be a long weekend.
—
The conference itself proceeds in an organized blur. One panel bleeds into another talk which flows into a meet and greet networking session with cheaply catered appetizers, nonstop until Alhaitham is even too exhausted to read. Luckily for him, Kaveh is nowhere to be found, meaning he might actually be able to get a good night’s rest before the return trip home tomorrow.
These plans are interrupted when Alhaitham’s phone buzzes on the bedside table, skittering across the surface as a flurry of messages come in. He wakes up the screen, blinking as his pupils adjust to the brightness.
Three messages have arrived, all from Kaveh. Rubbing his eyes, he opens the notifications.
Hey, come find me ;) - I’m hiding from my roommate
I leave tomorrow :’(
The third message is a photo–of Kaveh, seated at what appears to be the hotel bar. With a flushed cheek resting in his palm, he’s propped his head up with one arm as he leans towards the camera. The buttons of his shirt have been slightly undone, exposing the jut of his collarbone underneath the wrinkled band collar. A cocktail glass rests near his elbow, empty save for a huge sphere of ice––an attempt at class that merely reads as a poor attempt to justify the bar’s inflated prices for a pour of cheap liquor. His mouth is quirked in a sideways smile, eyebrows slightly raised above his scarlet eyes, glimmering even in the poorly lit phone camera photo.
An invitation – but it isn’t meant for him.
He has his suspicions on who it is for. He’s seen them around the conference all weekend: random students drawn to Kaveh like a magnet, hanging onto his every word as he shares some idea that’s probably revolutionary for his field. They share emails, exchange phone numbers, promise to keep in touch as potential collaborators on future papers and projects–
As well as a late-night rendezvous in the hotel bar, apparently.
He should ignore it. Let Kaveh believe that his invitation got lost in the airwaves–or even better, that it fell on uninterested ears. He’d be left with no other choice than to return to the room with his tail between his legs, collapsing on the bed next to him before snuggling all too closely to the pillows between them.
He finds himself pulling on his jeans and slipping on his shoes instead.
Grabbing his keycard from the dresser, he’s unsurprised to find both resting on the dented surface. Even hundreds of miles away, Kaveh still manages to forget his keys. At least by going down to give it to him now, he’ll be able to avoid a rude awakening at whatever ludicrous time Kaveh would show up needing to be let inside.
(He doesn’t let himself consider the alternative that makes his stomach turn uncomfortably–that maybe Kaveh never intended to return to their room at all tonight.)
It’s late enough that the hallway is empty; the only other person he encounters is a handyman that enters the elevator when it stops on the fourth floor. He nods curtly at the man before looking down at his phone, avoiding eye contact as he unlocks the screen to check for any new messages–not that they’d even come through in the dead zone of a moving metal box.
“Have a good night.” The handyman flashes him a wink and a knowing smile as he walks away towards a utility closet. Alhaitham opens his mouth, preparing a retort–just giving my stupid roommate his stupid key–but the words get stuck in his throat before he can speak.
He turns on his heel towards the hotel bar, following the muted sounds of the radio. The annoyingly catchy beats of pop hits from three years ago filter through the thin walls, as if their vapid popularity will encourage the patrons to treat this place like anything besides a shitty overpriced bar in a two-star hotel.
Kaveh’s back is to him when he approaches, still seated on his barstool. His phone is face down next to him as he sits with his chin propped up on both hands, scanning the bottles of cheap whiskey and flavored vodka that line the counter at the back.
“Here you are.”
“Huh–” Kaveh startles in his seat before turning to look at Alhaitham as he takes the seat next to him. His eyes are slightly glassy. “Alhaitham?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
Alhaitham nods at the phone on the shiny-yet-sticky surface. “You texted me.”
“No, I didn’t…” Kaveh turns over his phone, navigating to his messages where his photographic invitation sits unanswered. “Oh. Shit. I didn’t…you weren’t supposed to see that.”
“Hmph. I figured.”
Kaveh returns his hand to his drink, swirling the empty glass as if it’s a fine wine. The sphere of ice clatters against the edges of the glass. “Then… why did you come down here?”
“You left this.” Alhaitham sets the keycard next to his phone.
“Oh. Uh, thanks.”
“You really should stop forgetting your key all the time.”
“Hey!” Kaveh punches his upper arm weakly. “I don’t forget it all the time! You always take both of ours when you leave.”
Alhaitham exhales an amused puff of air. There’s a poignant silence as Kaveh attempts to sip his drink again, instead flinching when the ice sphere bounces against his nose.
Oddly uncomfortable in the quietness, Alhaitham continues. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Huh?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Why do you care?” Kaveh narrows his eyes in an ineffective attempt at a glare.
“I’m not supposed to wonder where my roommate has ended up at one in the morning in the middle of an unfamiliar city?”
“Oh, please.” Kaveh rolls his eyes. “Like you’d actually worry.”
Alhaitham looks away, watching the bartender at the other end of the counter as they dry off a glass before replacing it onto the shelves. Placing his hands on his knees, he begins to stand. “Well, I’ll let you get back to – hiding from me, was it?”
“Haitham, wait–” Kaveh attempts to follow but struggles to get up, feet tangled in the legs of the stool.
He’s already in the elevator by the time Kaveh catches up with him, throwing his arm between the doors as they close and forcing himself inside. Alhaitham’s gaze follows him involuntarily as he settles into the corner on the other side before he returns to watching the numbers on the indicator rise.
Kaveh’s voice startles him out of his thoughts. “Is this really why you came down here?”
Alhaitham turns to see Kaveh twirling his keycard behind his fingers, holding it up when their eyes meet. “It would have been… inconvenient for me. If you didn’t have it.”
“Mmm. Of course.” Kaveh nods as he replaces the keycard into the front pocket of his jeans. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were jealous for a minute, there.” There’s a challenge in Kaveh’s eyes as he squares up his shoulders, stepping forward slightly so that he’s even closer in the claustrophobic space of the elevator.
“And what if I was?”
Kaveh smirks. “Then you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
It’s more of a crash than a kiss. Pushing him back against the elevator wall, Alhaitham slams his lips against Kaveh’s, capturing them in his own. Kaveh leans into him, pressing away from the handrail that digs into his hips as he takes hold of the back of Alhaitham’s neck. Slanting his head, Alhaitham runs his tongue along the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss when Kaveh lets out a quiet moan. He tastes of citrus and sugar, two flavors he’d usually avoid, but he finds himself wanting for more as he licks along the roof of Kaveh’s mouth.
He feels Kaveh’s lips curve into a smile against his own. An exhale of breath from Kaveh’s nose tickles his cheek as he mutters something that sounds like finally.
They’re both breathless when the elevator dings and the doors creak open. Tripping over his own feet, Kaveh stumbles over the threshold; Alhaitham picks him up and throws him over his shoulder, too impatient to wait for him to find his bearing.
Kaveh laughs as he struggles facetiously, a breathy and ebullient sound that carries through the corridor. Alhaitham can’t bring himself to care too much about waking the other guests as he soaks in his infectious relief. The city lights sparkle through the window at the end of the hallway as he carries Kaveh back to his room–their room–before he tosses him onto the pointlessly divided bed, falling into the softness of sheets and skin.
—
Alhaitham wakes up the next morning confused, again.
This time, it’s a comfortable confusion, and one that’s quickly clarified as he notices the leg thrown across his abdomen and the arm wrapped around his shoulder. There are pillows everywhere but Kaveh has chosen to use his chest as one instead, hair fluttering as he breathes slowly, contentedly.
Kaveh cracks one eye open. “So, I guess I did text the right person last night.”
“Huh?” Alhaitham blinks, head still groggy with sleep.
Kaveh’s smile curls into a smirk as he sits up with a stretch. “If I had known all I had to do to get you to kiss me was send you a thirst trap, I’d have done it a long time ago.”
Leaning up onto his elbows, Alhaitham narrows his eyes in a soft censure. “Then what stopped you?”
“Because I was pretty sure I lived in a perpetual state of annoying you with my mere existence.”
“Only sometimes.” Kaveh smacks Alhaitham’s side at the admission, exaggerated gasp barely concealing his mirth. Alhaitham feigns a wince before he continues. “Why do you think I always took your keys?”
“To piss me off.”
Alhaitham chuckles at his brevity. “Maybe I just liked when you had to find me after your classes and walk home with me since you couldn’t get in the house otherwise.”
“Alhaitham, that is both the mushiest and most romantic thing you have ever said to me,” Kaveh says, intended as a genuine compliment. “But you realize you would also spend the entire time walking a full block ahead of me while complaining that I walk too slow.”
“Hmph.” Alhaitham tilts his head in consideration. “Point taken.”
“It’s okay, though.” Kaveh leans over him, grinning as he tucks a strand of hair behind Alhaitham’s ear. “I like that I make you a little irrational sometimes.”
Responding with a hungry kiss, Alhaitham rolls them over. Kaveh melts into his touch, seeking warmth, seeking more, moving with a languid indulgence–as if they don’t have a plane to catch in the early afternoon.
When he breaks away, there’s a lilt in Kaveh’s voice and a teasing gleam in his scarlet eyes. “Now, can I convince you to be an hour late for heading to the airport four hours early?”
Alhaitham murmurs his reply into the soft skin of his neck. “Probably.”