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“Are you done yet?”
Kaveh’s eyebrow twitches, his hand tightening over Alhaitham’s jaw by another fraction of a millimeter. “How old are you, five? Be patient.”
“It’s been 15 minutes already. I’d like to get back to reading. Also, I can feel your hair clips slipping off,” Alhaitham adds, referring to the way the crimson clips are buried haphazardly into his fringe, holding it precariously aloft and away from his left eye—for now, anyway.
Despite Kaveh’s visible agitation, his hand remains steady as he lines Alhaitham’s lower eyelid. “I swear, if you don’t stop complaining, this brush is going straight into your eye.”
“You seem to be struggling more than usual,” Alhaitham continues evenly. “You don’t usually have this much trouble applying your products to your own face. Why is this suddenly so difficult for you?”
“Why is this suddenly so—are you hearing yourself right now?” Kaveh withdraws his hand, waving the brush around in a theatrical show of vexation. “I’m doing this for your sake! I’m trying to make it so that you don’t go out looking like you tripped and fell into a shroomboar’s den!”
“Anyone who has even peripheral knowledge of me would know that that would never happen. As for those who don’t know me, I don’t particularly care what they think of my appearance.”
“Ugh, that’s not the point!”
“Then, pray tell, what is your point?”
“Just stop being difficult, okay?! This makeup was expensive, so I’m going to put it to good use!”
“...and why does ‘good use’ constitute being put on my face? You’re here. You’re far more suited for it.”
Although the hidden meanings behind Alhaitham’s words normally fly over Kaveh’s head, the implication of that statement seems to hit him dead-on this time, and his cheeks turn an amusing shade of red. “That’s… That’s just an upperclassman’s consideration for you!” He scrambles to find another foothold in the “argument.” “And your lack of artistry is really showing! Don’t you know a thing about colour theory? This shade wouldn’t go with my eyes at all.”
Alhaitham gives Kaveh a flat look. “So in other words, you bought this ‘expensive makeup’ for me.”
The sound that comes out of Kaveh’s throat is some unholy mix between a wheeze, a gasp, and a strangled gurgle. He’s been completely and utterly defeated. He knows this. He knows there’s no escaping it. Denial of the truth will only drive the point in further.
He takes a few more moments to gather the few shreds of dignity he has left and recovers enough to look away with an angry huff. His ears are red now too.
“Alright, fine! You have nice eyes, okay?! I thought this shade of eyeliner would look good on you, so I bought it so you could try it on! Happy now?”
Both men fall silent for a long time. Kaveh is silently praying to Lesser Lord Kusanali for a conveniently placed hole he can slide himself into. Alhaitham’s expression remains stoic, his eyes completely unreadable. Finally, Alhaitham breaks the silence first, settling into the sofa, now more content to remain still.
“...Thanks.”
“Hmph… Finally, some appreciation. Was that so hard?” Kaveh grumbles, leaning closer to Alhaitham’s face as he resumes his effort.
“Would you like me to thank you two more times? Unlike certain people who are far too burdened by their pride, I’m not opposed to showing gratitude where gratitude is due.”
“Ugh, you know what? Now you’ve ruined it, so just keep it. Hearing you say it like that makes me want to retch…”
The minutes tick by until finally, Kaveh steps back to admire a job well done. No hair clips were harmed in the incident, and Kaveh has a good enough view of both of Alhaitham’s eyes to evaluate his work. Nodding with a satisfied grin, he holds up a hand mirror for Alhaitham. “See? It looks good, doesn’t it?”
Alhaitham stares at his reflection, his brow slightly furrowed. “...I don’t see the difference between this and what I normally use.”
“Just trust me on this one, alright? You’ll feel the difference soon. Now, come on, let’s go while it’s still early.”
“Go where?” Alhaitham asks incredulously, but Kaveh is already in the midst of looping an arm around his arm and pulling him off the sofa. “I didn’t agree to an outing today,” he adds.
“Lighten up, will you? You’ve been cooped up at home all week. That’s not healthy for you!”
“I’ve been to the Akademiya.”
“Work doesn’t count! Alright, enough dilly-dallying. Come on!”
“I will reiterate that I never agreed to any plans today,” Alhaitham says, but his protests fall on deaf ears as Kaveh places his hands on Alhaitham’s shoulders and all but pushes him out the door.
He expects Kaveh to drag him to any one of their usual spots: Puspa Cafe, Lambad’s Tavern, maybe even Gandharva Ville or Pardis Dhyai for an impromptu get-together with Tighnari and Cyno. What he doesn’t anticipate is for Kaveh to walk right past the first two establishments, pulling Alhaitham in the direction of the Grand Bazaar before finally coming to a stop before an expensive-looking boutique.
“Here we are,” Kaveh announces. “I used to come here all the time back in the day. They have some good stuff in here.”
Alhaitham spends a few more moments staring in silence at the silken displays that line the storefront before looking to Kaveh.
“Can you afford a single thing in this store?” he asks.
“Nope. But you can, with your salary.”
The response earns him an exasperated stare. “Should I include these unexpected expenses with this month’s rent?”
“Ugh, don’t be like that! It’s all for you anyway.”
“...I don’t recall needing any help dressing myself. Are you going to decide on the groceries for me next?”
“Don’t tempt me. I haven’t had a nice stew in so long,” Kaveh groans. “And drop the attitude already! I’m doing you a favour. Your wardrobe is as terrible as your interior design sense, but we’re going to fix that today.”
“I have no qualms about my current apparel. When it comes to clothing, comfort supersedes appearances, no?”
Kaveh rolls his eyes at the very typical Alhaitham response. “Who ever said those two things had to be mutually exclusive? Anyway, we’re going to get arrested for loitering if we keep standing around like a couple of lunatics, so let’s hurry up and go inside.”
As he moves to open the door, the bell chimes, a telltale sign that new customers have arrived. The moment they enter the shop, the lady at the counter, whom Alhaitham assumes to be the shopkeeper, greets the two with a delighted smile.
“Long time no see, Kaveh! Oh my, you’ve brought quite the snack with you this time.”
At the comment, Alhaitham glances at Kaveh, but his senior only nods emphatically and pats him on the shoulder.
“Right? But don’t be fooled. This guy’s face is just about the only good thing he has going for him.”
“I would argue that I have many other good traits,” Alhaitham interjects, “including my ability to hold my liquor.”
“See? He completely ruins it by opening his mouth,” Kaveh says, the tip of his foot nudging Alhaitham’s shin in a gesture that feels like it’s just short of a kick—a rare show of restraint from his upperclassman-turned-significant other. “Anyway, can you help me do something about him? He doesn’t know the first thing about fashion, but I figured that with your selection, there’s bound to be an outfit that even he can make work.”
“Right away, good sirs!” the shopkeeper says, hustling towards the interior of the store. As she shuffles through the clothing racks, Alhaitham turns to Kaveh, already feeling exhausted at the prospect of modeling.
“Is this going to take long?”
“That depends on you,” Kaveh replies cheekily. “If you behave, maybe we’ll be out of here in an hour’s time. Oh, she’s found something for you.” As the shopkeeper waves them over, Kaveh places his hands on Alhaitham’s shoulders and pushes him towards her. “Go have a look and try it on.
Alhaitham sighs, figuring it will take him less effort to simply give in.
As it turns out, “an hour’s time” soon becomes two hours, and then three, and involves Kaveh making Alhaitham try out three-quarters of the boutique’s stock, swapping the pieces around in different configurations, and ignoring Alhaitham when he insists he has worn the clothes in the pile already. The shopkeeper is absolutely no help to Alhaitham whatsoever, but she seems all too eager to indulge in the bustle (and the view, no doubt), offering her opinion here and there and doing whatever she can to prolong their stay.
By the time they leave, it’s with three bags worth of clothes heavier than they had gone in with (which Alhaitham is, of course, carrying), and the sun is already setting, casting all of Treasures Street in a warm, orange glow. Kaveh’s cheer is evident from the spring in his step, but Alhaitham’s mood is harder to discern—with nothing more than slightly knitted brows as the only deviation from his usually stony expression, one would be hard-pressed to see that he’s a little grumpy. Kaveh, of course, knows, because he knows his partner like the back of his hand.
“Don’t frown like that. We didn’t take that long.”
“You have a very idiosyncratic understanding of the word ‘long,’” is the deadpan response, and Kaveh rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time that day.
“Oh, come on! We didn’t even spend the whole day there! We could’ve, you know. I saw quite a few more clothes that would’ve looked good on you.”
“Had I been the one to pick, we likely would’ve been in the store for less than an hour.”
“And let you coordinate an outfit? Just the thought is making my skin crawl,” Kaveh huffs. “Anyway, it’s about time for dinner, so let’s go to the tavern. A couple of drinks will put you in a good mood again, I’m sure.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll be paying for them?” Alhaitham asks, knowing full well what the answer will be.
“Of course not!” Kaveh declares perhaps a little too proudly, thus proving Alhaitham correct. “C’mon, let’s pick up the pace. We’ll have to hurry if we want to beat the dinner rush!”
With a small sigh, Alhaitham lets Kaveh jog ahead, watching contemplatively as his back grows smaller as he heads down the street.
In truth, he wishes he could feel more disgruntled with this turn of events, but he simply can’t find it in himself to be completely annoyed with his boyfriend. It’s the first time in a while that he’s seen Kaveh in such high spirits, and of the two of them, it was Kaveh who probably needed this outing the most. Neither his job nor his misfortune have gotten better with time, after all, and Alhaitham knows that a change of pace is one of the best ways to clear the mind.
“Alhaitham, hurry up!”
Kaveh turns around, beckoning him over with a wave. The setting sun frames his figure in an ethereal glow, but his genuine smile is so much brighter, more beautiful.
So despite his initial misgivings, Alhaitham lets the last of his grievances fall away from himself. He doesn’t pick up the pace, because every time he is given the opportunity to irritate Kaveh, he will take it, but by the time he reaches Kaveh (whom he has succeeded in annoying into an amusing show of huffing and puffing), he is content to enjoy a nice, comfortable meal with the man he loves most.
Although Alhaitham is normally elusive in the eyes of ordinary people, those who know him know him, and those who see him across the street in uncharacteristically gaudy clothes (with his upper and lower garments mixed and matched in exactly none of the combinations that Kaveh had suggested for him) can only wonder what had happened between now and the last time they had seen him.
Only the bravest of souls are the ones who make the venture to approach him and ask him about his updated wardrobe, to which Alhaitham only replies that his new clothes were a “gift” from someone and leaves it at that.