Work Text:
In the late hours of the night, Kaveh stumbles through the porch of Alhaitham’s house, his weariness evident in every clumsy step he takes, almost tripping on the last step. He fumbles for his keys. His hands trembling in frustration, they were nowhere to be found, no doubt he forgot them when he was in a rush to get away from Alhaitham that evening.
In a moment of sheer desperation, he delivers a punch into the air, a futile attempt to release the pent-up tension that threatened to consume him. The blow, however weak, does little to dilute his frustration or alleviate the weight of the world upon his shoulders. It was as if his very existence had become entangled in a web of misfortune and mistakes.
Frustration and despair wash over Kaveh as he contemplates, almost tentatively, the prospect of spending the night locked out. Any other night he would be able to handle all this, but today it felt an impossible task. His feelings threatening to drown him in a sea of hopelesness.
He leans against the sturdy wooden door, its cold surface providing a momentary respite for his sweaty forehead. The contact brought a modicum of relief, soothing the throbbing ache that had taken residence in his temples. It was a small reprieve, a fleeting solace in the midst of his chaotic thoughts. One too many thoughts can be even more cruel than two full bottles of wine. Or not. He is not sure. His only goal is to give in to unconsciousnesses.
Lifting his head from the door, Kaveh glances at the silent street that stretched before him. The darkness somehow seemed to embrace him, mirroring the turmoil within his troubled soul. He found a strange solace in the obscurity of the night, as if the world's problems were momentarily muted. It was a bittersweet tranquility, a momentary respite from the relentless demands of his reality.
He braces himself one last moment before balling his fists and banging on the door.
As the door swings open, Al Haitham's stern expression comes into view. The sage's eyes sweep over Kaveh's disheveled appearance, taking in every messy strand of hair and every wrinkle on his rumpled clothes. It feels as if his flaws were magnified under Al Haitham's gaze, his imperfections laid bare for scrutiny. Kaveh could feel the heat radiating from his flushed face, a telltale sign of his intoxicated state. His glazed eyes betraying his drunkenness, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.
“You are drunk.” That’s Alhaitham’s curt greeting.
Kaveh's brow furrow in response, a mix of defiance and frustration etching itself onto his features.
"For being the acting grand sage, you truly speak the obvious," he retorted, his voice laced with bitterness. "Ever the observant.”
So what if he was drunk. Lately he was always a little bit drunk. It shouldn't serve as a means to diminish his worth. Al Haitham, of all people, should understand this. He should be used to it too. After all, he had witnessed Kaveh's struggles firsthand, had seen him at his lowest points.
Contrary to what Kaveh had expected, a scolding or a reprimand, Alhaitham stepped aside without a word, allowing Kaveh to stumble into the house. The door closes behind them, sealing them in a bubble of silence. Al Haitham walks leisurely to his room, his movements deliberate and measured. Kaveh follows, a mixture of anticipation and unease swirling in his guts, twisting in knots. Al Haitham's calm demeanor only served to further unsettle and anger him. This outcome was unexpected. Where were the bite and the nails? Is he not even worth the effort? Is he not even enough that haitham cannot even want to indulge in their usual routine of proving, nagging and scratching? Is he so disgusting that he is not worth not even a fire filled glare? One of those that he is used to see from the scribe every single day. It was as if his mere presence hinted at something profound, something that demanded their attention. Kaveh's mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
He had expected a confrontation, a clash of wills fueled by their inherent differences. He had anticipated a storm, a tempest that would only deepen the chasm between them. But instead, he found himself in the midst of an eerie calm, unsure of what it meant or where it would lead them. Dread and anger spining around his head, poisoning his thoughts even more. Al Haitham stood in the center of his room, his eyes fixed on Kaveh. There was a hint of tension in his posture, a readiness to face whatever was to come.
Kaveh comes to the threshold of Alhaitham's room, hesitating for a moment before entering. He could already sense the tension in the air, as if an invisible barrier had formed between them. When he walks into the room, his gaze meets Alhaitham's piercing eyes, arms crossed over his chest. Something was different about Alhaitham today, a subtle shift in his demeanor that Kaveh couldn't quite put his finger on. His body language the same as usual, but something was lurking in the shadows waiting to pound. It makes him uneasy, and he cannot stand it, not right now. He is not in the right state of mind for it.
As Kaveh took in Alhaitham's presence, a surge of anger began to well up within him. He couldn't contain it any longer. Without skipping a beat, he lets out a cruel laugh, trying to mask the pain that was gnawing at his heart. His laughter echoes in the room, an ironic facade of strength. He bites, hard.
“So, what? Now you're just going to walk away?" Kaveh's voice trembled with a mix of resentment and desperation. "Am I not worthy enough for you to even acknowledge me? If you have something to say, just say it. And stop looking at me like that, Alhaitham.”
The words tumble out of Kaveh's mouth in a rapid stream, fueled by a whirlwind of emotions. He knew deep down that his outburst wasn't entirely fair. But in that moment, he couldn't help but direct his frustration towards the one that riled him up the most.
Alhaitham's expression remained stoic, his face a mask of calmness amidst the storm. He uncrosses his arms, his gaze shifting around the room before finally settling back on Kaveh. There was a glint of understanding in his eyes, as if he had anticipated this confrontation.
“One would think that if you put all the energy you spend on getting drunk and riled up into more productive things, you wouldn't have ended up where you are now," Alhaitham said, straight to the point. "But this behavior won't fix your problems.”
Kaveh's anger flares up even more at Alhaitham's words. How dare he lecture him about his choices? It was easy for Alhaitham to pass judgment when he seemed to have his life perfectly figured out. The resentment burns inside Kaveh, fueling his retort.
"You always do this!" Kaveh exclaims, his voice strained with bitterness. "It's so easy for you to belittle me and my actions when you have everything figured out. Well, good for you.”
Alhaitham's eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of frustration dancing across his features. He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully, almost chewing on them before spitting them out. "And I did manage it because I don't dwell on useless guilt and self-pity," his voice calm but firm. "I don’t put everyone and everything before myself. You should learn from that. Maybe then you'd at least have enough mora to at least pay for your own drinks.”
A surge of heat rises within him, his cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation. Alhaitham's words struck a nerve, hitting at the core of his insecurities. He had always looked up to Alhaitham, eve if no one would catch him saying it out loud, but in that moment, it felt like a bitter reminder of his own shortcomings.
Alhaitham's gaze analyzes over Kaveh's reaction. He had always been perceptive, attuned to the intricacies of their relationship, even if Kaveh himself struggled to comprehend it fully. There was a brief pause, a silent exchange of emotions hanging heavy in the room.
In that moment though, Kaveh realized with a pang that Alhaitham was intentionally probing the depths of his distress. He sought to offer his logical and analytical approach, as he always did. But Kaveh was tired, tired of going in circles, tired of repeating the same mistakes. Their differing perspectives clashed like oil and water, their points of view irreconcilable.
And how tired he was. So, so tired. He longed for a glimmer of empathy, for a moment of vulnerability and understanding from Alhaitham. Yet, deep down, he knew that seeking it from him was an exercise in futility. Still, he couldn't help but hold on to a glimmer of hope, clinging to the possibility that one day, Alhaitham would show him the empathy he yearned for.
He finds himself caught between that desire, the desire to confide in Al Haitham and the fear of exposing his vulnerabilities. And so, Kaveh explodes, his emotions spilling over. The weight of it all became unbearable, and he finds himself teetering on the edge of an emotional precipice.
"And so? What's your point?" He takes a step closer, eyes burning with unshed tears and nose scrunching as he fought to suppress the raw emotions surging within him. The room seemed to echo with the heaviness of his steps. With a mixture of defiance and vulnerability, his right hand rested on his hip, while the other reached out to press a finger against Alhaitham's chest. "You don’t ever care," Kaveh's voice cracked, the words laced with accusation. "So, why should you care now?"
Alhaitham breaths deeply, nostrils flaring. He grabs kaveh by the arm that was poking him. His grip tightening on Kaveh's arm, brows furrowing as he struggles to find the right words. His voice holding a hint of exasperation as he responded, his tone filled with frustration.
"That's the problem, Kaveh. I care. But you don't even notice that I do. And I'm tired. Tired of this. Tired of doing all this for you. And all I get in return is anger.”
In the midst of their dispute, their opposing views clashing with explosive intensity. Kaveh's sentimentality colliding with Alhaitham's pragmatic approach, resulting in a barrage of sharp words and charged emotions. Their argument became a microcosm of the complexities that defined their relationship, a delicate dance between emotional yearning and logical reasoning, a struggle to bridge the gap between two contrasting worlds.
Amidst the chaos, the lingering silence, a moment of realization dawns upon them. Something lurks in the back of their minds, a breeze that undeniably streches and bites. It has, after so many years and misunderstandings, finaly hidden its teeth. Their intertwined emotions hanging heavy in the aire like delicate threads, waiting to be woven into a tapestry. The exhausting dance they have unwittingly engaged in finally acknowledged. It had been going for too long. They have yearned for a reprieve from the storm, a respite from the constant clash of perspectives.
In a moment of vulnerability, a moment of almost relief, Kaveh's anger gives way to anguish, his body slumping with defeat. Finally breaking. Alhaitham´s follows. He always does. Clashed away by the tides of their feelings. His own anger tempered. He does not comprehend the depths of Kaveh's pain but he acknowledges them. He was not the only one hurting. Their frustration morphs into a shared sadness, an acknowledgement of the wounds they have inadvertently inflicted upon each other.
Kaveh's mind wanders to the countless arguments, the bitter exchanges that had eroded their bond, and the wounds they had inflicted upon each other. The realization of their shared pain struck him like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the depths of his own shortcomings and insecurities. Al Haitham's hurt was not an isolated phenomenon; it mirrored his own. And perhaps, all this time, Al Haitham has been right every time he said they were mirrors of each other.
"I didn't know," Kaveh's voice softened, a hint of vulnerability seeping through the cracks of his frustration. "But that doesn't change the fact that it hurt me, even if you were doing it for me. It hurts.”
As Kaveh utters those words, his voice quivering with a mix of pain and longing, he couldn't help but hope that Alhaitham would finally see beyond the surface, beyond the rationality and practicality that defined their interactions.
Alhaitham hums non-comitely and silence fills the room. Words, once weapons of their battles, now felt inadequate to express the complex emotions that coursed through their veins.
Kaveh reaches out to Alhaitham, not to claw and scratch, but rather find solace and offer it in return. Kaveh trembles, broken sobs escaping through his lips, their rawness echoing in the space between them. Hiccuping and thrashing, he remains locked in the embrace they have inadvertently fallen into, unwilling to let go. It is a desperate grip, he fears that releasing his hold on Al Haitham would mean losing the fragile connection they have managed to salvage.
Despite their turmoil, their grasp remains firm, unintentionally seeking refuge within each other's arms.
With a trembling hand, Al Haitham reaches out and gently caresses Kaveh's disheveled hair. His touch is hesitant, unsure of its place, yet it carries a tenderness that speaks volumes. It is a touch that seeks to heal wounds, to mend broken spirits, and to convey remorse for the pain inflicted. Through the warmth that radiates from Al Haitham's touch, Kaveh finds solace, a momentary respite from the storm raging within him.
He almost laughs in the midst of things, he suddenly finds it oddly amusing how, for the great scribe of the academiya, Al Haitham is currently at a loss for words. The man known for his eloquence and mastery of language now stands before him, humbled and speechless. But Kaveh understands. He didn't before, but he does now.
Al Haitham, it becomes clear, has been carrying his own burdens, his own demons. He, too, has been overwhelmed by anger and frustrations, trapped within the depths of his pain. In that moment, as their embrace lingers, Kaveh sees in Al Haitham a mirror image of his own struggles. The wounds inflicted and the pain caused were not just Kaveh's burden to bear; Al Haitham, too, had unknowingly walked a similar path.
Kaveh stood at the precipice of vulnerability, his heart pounding with anticipation. Taking a deep breath, he braces himself to say something. His eyes rise to meet Alhaitham's gaze. In that moment, Alhaitham's eyes mirrored his own openness, and Kaveh felt a flicker of reassurance.
As he opens his mouth to speak, the words he had prepared evaporate into thin air. Instead, a surprised sound escapes him as Alhaitham’s hand moves from Kaveh's hair to rest on the back of his head to finally settle wiping some of his tears, a gesture that both surprised and comforted him. It’s a silent assurance that whatever Kaveh is struggling to say is not important, for he was already understood.
Kaveh looks and looks. Gaze wandering around Alhaitham's room, taking in their surroundings. They knelt on the floor, the weight of their shattered prides and exposed vulnerabilities pressing upon them. Chests open. It’s a humbling sight, a raw display of their shared humanity. In that moment, they were equals, stripped of pretenses and facades.
His attention is drawn back to Alhaitham, and for a split second, his eyes fix on Alhaitham's lips. In that moment, a rush of longing bubbles in his veins, igniting a glimmer of hope within him. Maybe, just maybe, this inexplicable connection between them meant that Alhaitham feels some kind of way about him too. The possibility swirled in his mind, taunting him with its tantalizing potential.
Alhaitham’s lips quirk the tiniest bit upward, like a secret shared only between them. It was a sign, albeit a minuscule one, that Kaveh clung to desperately. And when he mustered the courage to raise his gaze once more, he feels himself being drawn forward, a gentle tug that beckoned him closer.
In an unexpected twist of fate, their lips meet in a tender yet tumultuous kiss, a convergence of their contrasting worlds. Hand clasped together, lips interwined, and breath mingled. It is a collision of sentiment and logic, a fusion of their passionate souls. In that fleeting moment, their defenses crumble, giving way to an undeniable connection that transcends their differences.
As they slowly pull away, their eyes lock once again, and an unspoken understanding passes between them. They realize that, despite their many disagreements and clashes, their hearts beat to the same rhythm, seeking solace and companionship in each other's presence. It is a realization that opens the door to a deeper level of intimacy one that encompasses both their shared vulnerabilities and their divergent perspectives.
The aftermath is enveloped once again by silence, as if time itself held its breath, allowing them to fully absorb the depth of the moment. Kaveh's inner turmoil finds a temporary respite, and Al Haitham's logical mind acts as if i has finally found the missing piece to the most challenging puzzle on earth.
The weight of their conversation lingers in the air. Kaveh hesitates, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions.
"…Haitham," he began, his voice filled with uncertainty.
“Tomorrow.”
“But”
"Kaveh, it’s alright. We will talk more tomorrow. It's late. Let's go to bed.” he replies, his voice carrying a sense of assurance.
Accompanied by the stillness, Alhaitham helps them both up from the ground where they had fallen into.
For Kaveh, this unexpected turn of events leaces him slightly disoriented. Though his guilt had momentarily disappeared, hidden in the depths of his brain, he found himself unsure of how to navigate this newfound moment between them.
His insecurities and all that he is, and all that he is not more apparent to himself. Alhaitham doesnt say anything else and kaveh even if anxious follows. The storm and the tides finally tamed. Now a stream that ran its way softly. Not yet conforted nor silenced but tranquil.
Al Haitham doesn't say anything else. With a firm unwavering grip, he guides him towards his own bed. Making sure that his touch does not leave Kaveh’s for even a fraction of a second. The mere fact that Kaveh would have the privilege of entering Al Haitham's personal space, let alone sharing the same bed, seemed unimaginable. It was something Kaveh never thought he would witness or be a part of. In his mind, he would have pitied someone who entertained such thoughts, believing them to be suffering from a terrible illness that distorted their reality. Yet, when faced with the truth of his own desires and the unexpected turn of events, he realized that, what was he if not exactly that? A delusional being who for the first time in years finally found some kind of respite.
Carefully and soothingly, Al Haitham removes Kaveh's hairpins, placing them softly on the nightstand alongside a pile of his books and his earpieces that Kaveh hadn’t realized were not on his owner’s head. Tender fingers brushing away stray hairs from his face, evoking a soft sound from his lips. Afraid of opening his eyes and discovering that it was all a dream, Kaveh keeps them closed, caught in a moment of uncertainty. Because even if it was real, he was waiting for everything to crumble in his hands, pieces converting into sand and sliding between his fingers.
He couldn't help but wonder if Alhaitham's current actions were genuine or merely another figment of his own delusions. Moments of tenderness and care from Al Haitham had always left Kaveh puzzled, as they contrasted with his usual closed-off and cold demeanor. Had he been misunderstanding Al Haitham all along, failing to recognize the subtle acts where he showed he cared for him that were present in their shared existence? Brewing enough coffee for two in the mornings and making sure it stayed warm when he could easily just forget about it since he didnt even know if Kaveh would awake at time to have breakfast. Or how he left him to weave and crawl into his own space, leaving trinkents all around the house, buying furniture and reorganizing. How even if they argued constantly about it neither of them got truly angry. How alhaitham would look at him everytime he explained one of his new desings for which he was excited to actually commission.
But amidst these swirling thoughts, Kaveh finds himself unable to dwell on them for long. The warmth and comfort of the moment overtaking him, settling deep within his being. Nestled on Al Haitham's bed, wrapped in his sheets, and snuggled into a pillow that smeels so much like alhaitham that is almost overwhelming. Kaveh feels an unanticipated sense of security. It wasn't about Al Haitham being different than he was; Kaveh had come to appreciate Alhaitham's terse and logical nature, knowing that it masked a softness within. In that moment, as AlHaitham squeezed his hand, Kaveh realized he was no longer afraid. There were still countless issues to be addressed, conversations to be had, and hurdles to overcome. However, for now, Kaveh wanted to savor this feeling of contentment, the lightheadedness and fuzziness that enveloped him. Tomorrow could wait, and when it arrived, they would face everything together. At least, that was the hope he clung to, that eventually, everything would be alright.
