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"His love language? Well, I haven’t given that much thought,” Alhaitham speaks around the rim of his glass, looking over the table at his drinking companions.
Cyno and Tighnari casually play Genius Invokation TCG as Alhaitham watches along, not quite interested in playing himself.
“I’m sure Kaveh has,” Cyno replies, rolling his dice and making a sour face at the result. “How long have you two been together now? I mean, officially.”
“Two months,” Alhaitham answers. “But really, I doubt ‘love languages’ are anything more than pseudoscience.”
Tighnari stifles laughter behind his hand. “As expected from you,” he says. “Not everything can be reduced down to science, after all.”
Alhaitham bites his tongue. Valentine’s Day is coming up quickly, and Alhaitham had mentioned being unsure of what to do for the occasion. He’s… new, to these things, to say the least.
“You don’t have to believe in love languages wholeheartedly to at least try out some of the suggestions,” Cyno says, dutifully flipping over one of his cards when Tighnari deals a finishing blow. He doesn’t hesitate before launching an attack of his own, Tighnari biting at the inside of his cheek as he assesses the damage.
“And what are these suggestions?” Alhaitham inquires.
“Well, it’d be easier if you knew Kaveh’s love language to begin with,” Tighnari says. “If I had to guess… maybe gifts? When you brought back that souvenir from Port Ormos, he wouldn’t stop talking about how ugly it was… but he still carried it around with him for days.”
“I’d say physical touch,” Cyno says, “Based on how clingy he gets after a drink or two.”
Alhaitham purses his lips. He knows of the five love languages vaguely—acts of service, physical touch, quality time, words of affirmation, and receiving gifts—but none of them strike him immediately as something Kaveh would enjoy over the others.
“I’ll have to figure it out,” Alhaitham says, suddenly standing from the table. “Goodbye.”
Cyno and Tighnari stare as Alhaitham begins to leave, but carry on with their game after a few moments have passed. Alhaitham’s sudden departures are commonplace and well-known, especially in the world of the Akademiya.
Alhaitham could go straight home, where Kaveh is likely working fervently on his blueprints, and just ask the other man for a plain answer… but there’s certainly some charm in surprise, isn’t there? Alhaitham may be new to romance, but he’s not a fool, and he doesn’t want Kaveh to think he’s not trying.
So he heads to the Grand Bazaar. It’s late, but not late enough that the merchants have closed their shops. Kaveh would feel much more at home here than Alhaitham does, surrounded by dancers and lively chatter. Still, it’s not an unpleasant atmosphere.
Not that Alhaitham will stay here longer than he needs. He quickly locates a merchant’s booth that overflows with flowers, specialties from other regions and Sumeru’s own blooms arranged into bouquets. Undoubtedly, their business booms this time of year, as lovers pick up flowers for their valentines.
For the first time, Alhaitham thinks of himself as one of these ‘lovers.’ It’s not an unwelcome change.
There’s a short line leading up to the flower stall, though once Alhaitham reaches the front, he balks. Which would Kaveh prefer? Roses that remind him of home, or a more foreign set of blooms? The glaze lilies from Liyue are striking, and the dendrobiums from Inazuma would look great in Kaveh’s hair… Alhaitham thinks (for probably longer than necessary) before he picks a bouquet of cecilias from Mondstadt. After all, cecilias hold a poetic spirit that Kaveh will certainly appreciate.
With the fresh bouquet nestled in the crook of his arm, Alhaitham heads toward home, ignoring curious looks from passersby—whatever they will assume is of little consequence to him.
As he walks, he thinks again of love languages. It’s foolish to compress a human experience such as receiving love into five categories, though if he thinks of it as a stepping-off point rather than the end-all-be-all of love, he is more inclined to appreciate the philosophy. Besides, if Kaveh subscribes to this way of thinking as Tighnari and Cyno implied, then it matters little what Alhaitham thinks of it. Kaveh is headstrong like that, Alhaitham thinks with a small grin.
When he makes it home, he’s met by the sight of Kaveh asleep at his desk, head resting on his crossed arms. No matter. Alhaitham heads to the kitchen to prepare the bouquet, cutting the stems at an angle and fitting them in a vase. He fusses with a few of the blooms until they look just right before he approaches Kaveh’s sleeping form again, setting the vase on the desk before him. He props up a little card that reads “From Alhaitham” against the vase, only because the florist had insisted on including the lace-trimmed card with the bouquet.
He drapes a blanket over Kaveh’s shoulders before leaving him be—he’ll definitely wake up again before morning with some new idea that came to him in a dream.
And when he does wake about an hour later, Alhaitham sits on one of the couches in the living room, flipping through a book.
“Alhaitham!” he hears from the other room; he lifts his gaze from his book in time to see Kaveh walking out from the study, rubbing at his bleary eyes with a balled fist, the vase of flowers held in his other hand. “You got me flowers?”
Alhaitham nods.
“They’re—they’re beautiful, but…” he trails off, and Alhaitham tilts his head curiously. “But it’s not really like you, is it?”
Alhaitham raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s so… They’re beautiful. But, based on your aesthetic choices around the house—”
“I got you flowers, and you’re insulting me,” Alhaitham interrupts, pointedly looking back at his book.
Kaveh laughs. “Well, yes.” After a few ticks of silence, Kaveh speaks again, “Thank you, Alhaitham. They’re lovely.”
Alhaitham nods but mentally crosses “receiving gifts” off of his list.
—
Over the next few days, Alhaitham tests acts of service to little avail. Most of the time, Kaveh doesn’t notice that Alhaitham’s been cleaning up after him, so entranced by his work. Not that Alhaitham really minds; he’s doing this for Kaveh, not for praise from Kaveh.
Though one day, as Alhaitham picks up a scarf Kaveh had left on the floor, Kaveh catches him and says, “Hey! What are you doing with that?”
Alhaitham folds the scarf in his hands. “Putting it away.”
Kaveh blinks. “Oh,” he says, “I’ll be honest, I thought you were going to throw it away.”
Alhaitham blinks back at him. “You think I’d do that?”
“You have done that!” Kaveh fires back, approaching Alhaitham and taking the scarf out of his hands. “You said one of my shirts was an eyesore, and you gave it away.”
“Well, it was an eyesore.”
“Hmph.” Kaveh shakes his head, “Just be glad I believe in charity.”
And, well, as far as Alhaitham’s concerned, that’s another love language failure.
—
When Alhaitham starts leaving sticky notes around the house, Kaveh confronts him with three of the notes stuck to his fingers. “What are you doing, Alhaitham?” he asks.
Alhaitham looks up at him from the couch. “Leaving you notes,” he says plainly.
“Duh. I mean, what are you trying to do? Getting me flowers, picking up after me, leaving sweet notes… I’m worried you’re up to something nefarious.” Kaveh unsticks the notes from his fingers and places them on the table. The one on top reads, “Thinking of you. -Alhaitham”.
“It’s almost Valentine’s Day,” Alhaitham responds, “Is it so strange to be a bit more romantic?”
“A bit?” Kaveh laughs, “Alhaitham, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch.”
“Hm,” Alhaitham hums. “So, you don’t like it? Does it bother you?”
“Well, no—it’s not like that. I just—” he stutters, blushing a bit. Cute. “I never expected this kind of stuff from you, you know?”
“So it’s unexpected, not unwelcome?”
“Sure, but…” he trails off, pursing his lips.
“It seems to bother you,” Alhaitham observes.
“No.” Kaveh flops down onto the couch beside Alhaitham, leaning up against the other man. “All the stuff you’ve been doing is really sweet. I love it.”
“So what’s wrong?” Alhaitham lets his hand come to rest on Kaveh’s leg.
“It’s not you, though. I mean—it is you, of course, but it’s not something you’d usually go out of your way to do, and I don’t want you to change on my behalf.”
“Cyno and Tighnari said something at the tavern about love languages, and I wanted to figure out yours.” Alhaitham finds no purpose in hiding it from Kaveh any longer, since he’d likely figure it out if Alhaitham tried anything else in the coming days.
Suddenly, everything seems to click in Kaveh’s head. He lets out a short, barking laugh. “So you’ve been researching me?”
Alhaitham tilts his head. “In a way, I suppose.”
“I didn’t think you’d be into the whole ‘love languages’ thing,” Kaveh admits, scratching at the back of his neck.
“I’m not,” Alhaitham replies. “But I do enjoy doing these things for you, Kaveh. Even if it doesn’t come naturally to me, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the effort.”
Kaveh blushes deeper. “You can’t just say stuff like that,” he says, letting his head rest against Alhaitham’s shoulder.
Alhaitham blinks, a piece falling into place. “It’s physical touch, isn’t it?”
Kaveh nuzzles closer. “What gave it away?” he jokes.
They sit in comfortable quiet for some time, as Alhaitham continues to read his book and Kaveh relaxes against him. Alhaitham feels pleasantly warm, not just from Kaveh against his side, but…
“Yours is quality time, by the way,” Kaveh speaks up.
“You sound quite certain.”
Kaveh snickers. “That’s because I am. You’re not so mysterious, Alhaitham.”
“To you.”
“Mhm,” Kaveh hums. “As it should be.”
—
So, for Valentine’s Day, they decide to stay home. The bouquet of flowers sits on the coffee table, sticky notes cluttering the vase.
They both lie sprawled on the couch, Kaveh atop Alhaitham, his head on Alhaitham’s chest. His fingertips tap against Alhaitham’s shoulder, mimicking Alhaitham’s heartbeat. Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap.
Quiet music emits from Alhaitham’s music player as the two bask in one another’s presence, completely content just to be held in each other’s arms—completely content just to be together.