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Kaveh had been looking forward to today. His friends and former classmates were getting married and he couldn’t be happier for the people he loved to get their happily ever after. Their long friendship was always going to end this way.
He smiled over at the two as they greeted more of the guests. Tighnari caught his eyes and he fell into his bright, smiling persona. He wouldn’t ruin their happiness, especially not today.
When the Valuka Shuna turned away to continue talking, Kaveh downed the rest of his glass of wine. He needed to forget the precocious toddler that had just left him. He needed to forget the child and the heterochromatic blue and gold eyes peeping up from behind a curtain of red bangs.
He had moved to Fontaine after graduation to be closer to his mother. He had visited Sumeru a few times since then. The Zubayr Theatre was a work of art, as were the performances on its stage. Nilou’s fluid motions were breath-taking. Tighnari’s ward, Collei, had insisted Kaveh come to see the Sabzeruz Festival in full swing after the shift of power in the Akademiya. The red-haired woman embodied her vision’s element beautifully.
He had no idea Nilou was married until she approached the child animatedly showing off her early reader coloring book. She was heavy with another pregnancy and winded from searching.
“Arna,” she began, clinging to the child with matching ruby hair. “There you are honey, you need to stay at the table with your coloring book.” The silver wedding band was simple in design, but it caught his attention nonetheless.
“Oh! Kaveh, right? We met through Collei a few years ago. I’m so glad Arna was with someone familiar. Though, she doesn’t usually seek out strangers.”
“Yes, I remember your stunning performances.” He stood to shake her hand and moved to let her take his seat. “Arna has been very adamant about sharing her story book and drawings with me. Though, she didn’t tell me her name.” He teased the little girl who was now hiding behind said book.
“She’s just as beautiful as her mother. And I owe you congratulations! For your wedding and two children, it seems,” he added while keeping his smile plastered to his face. He ignored the stabbing pain building in his chest. It was only a suspicion. There was no evidence beyond the preternaturally erudite eyes on a child that acted like she knew him.
“Thank you, Kaveh. It's unfortunate you weren’t able to make our wedding. Alhaitham loves telling stories about you two in school. Maybe Arna recognized you from the photo in his library.”
His heart still ached from that revelation. He’d never received an invitation. He’d quickly excused himself and calmed down in the bathroom.
Not only did he not get an invitation to his former best friend’s wedding but he had lied to his wife about it.
And now he was leaving the wedding reception early, wishing Tighnari and Cyno all the best before running off to drown his feelings at the bottom of a bottle of wine at Lambad’s. He didn’t want to sort them out, he just wanted them gone.
Kaveh was praising each Archon for not having seen the man for himself at the venue. He hadn’t even confirmed if Alhaitham was there after Nilou’s words. He didn’t know what he’d do if he saw him before leaving town tomorrow evening.
“Here you are,” a familiar admonishing voice cut through his alcoholic haze. “Tighnari was worried about you after the way you ran off from the wedding. Don’t you know it’s bad form to worry the couple on their wedding day?”
Kaveh shoved himself off the table to glare into familiar heterochromatic eyes.
“Fuck you, Alhaitham,” he spat, standing on unsteady legs, “You don’t get to lecture me on poor form, asshole.” He fell into the scribe’s arms, losing his balance when trying to point at him. Alhaitham was as sturdy as ever, propping him up with ease.
“I’ve already handled your tab with Lambad. Let’s get you back to your rented room.”
Kaveh struggled against him, trying to refuse his junior’s assistance.
“Fuck you,” he mumbled in begrudging acquiescense.
Alhaitham was patient with his senior who tried to fight him the whole way to the hostel homes near the Bimarstan. That patience was probably the product of being a father to a stubborn toddler.
The reminder sent Kaveh into another fit. This time he landed a punch to Alhaitham’s jaw. Luckily, they were right in front of the hostel. Alhaitham spun him and pinned his arm to his back.
“What are you doing, Kaveh?” he asked, patience laced with irritation. The scribe’s hand snaked over Kaveh’s hips. The architect failed to respond immediately, his heart was beating so loudly in his ears. The scribe reached into the pocket on the far hip. The angle pressed them together. “There it is.”
He pulled out Kaveh’s key.
Kaveh felt like an imbecile. He thrashed and clawed his way out of his junior’s hold.
“Me?! What do you think you’re doing, Alhaitham?” The silver-haired man cocked an eyebrow as he opened the door.
“I’m escorting my drunk friend home.”
“Friend?! What kind of friend lies to his wife about inviting a friend to his wedding?” he raged. Alhaitham tugged him inside as Kaveh continued protesting. “How can you call yourself my friend?”
“Kaveh,” the younger man sighed. The door shut behind them. “Can you not think of any reason why I wouldn’t send you an invitation?” Kaveh was taken aback.
Is he insinuating that I would have embarrassed him or caused a scene? Tears of frustration and embarrassment pricked at his eyes. He’s only ever wished for his friends to be happy. He’d never endanger that. At most, he wanted to share and celebrate their happiness with them.
“Hey,” Alhaitham’s tone softened, “get out of your head, Kaveh. If you don’t know, ask.” Kaveh was still unsteady on his feet. He leaned into Alhaitham’s touch, hands cupping his face.
“You thought that I’d embarrass you,” he pouted. Alhaitham hissed.
“Kaveh, really? That’s the only thing you can think of?” the scribe asked.
Kaveh nodded in assent as his knees gave out. A tear seeped out against his will, tracing a warm trail. Alhaitham held him, pressing his face into his shoulder and sitting them down on the bed.
“You know me better than that. I don’t care what other people think of me. You’re my best friend. I wanted you there.”
“Then why?” Kaveh murmured against the soft pillow of muscle against his face.
There was a pause. If there was an excuse to give, Alhaitham would have already thought of it. Kaveh determined Alhaitham was debating revealing the truth or perpetuating his lie.
“Don’t lie to me, Haitham. You know I only want you to be happy. Whatever the reason is, I’ll fix it so you don’t have to worry about me around your family.”
The arms squeezed him.
“I told Nilou that your project timeline was behind schedule and you couldn’t make it. I bought a gift and had it sent in your name. I would never malign you to them.”
So what’s the real reason, Haitham? Kaveh waited for the rest of the explanation, terrified.
“Kaveh, I—,” Alhaitham started. Kaveh wasn’t familiar with the vulnerable tone in his voice. He tried to sit up. The scribe held fast, pinning him down. “Kaveh, what about you? Your happiness is important, too.”
“What does that have to do with—”
Alhaitham was pressing their faces together. Lips touched and Kaveh’s brain lost the plot.
“Everything, Kaveh,” the scribe whispered, capturing ruby eyes with his blue-gold. “Your happiness is my happiness. Since the day we met, that’s all I have wanted for you. But you work yourself too hard. You stretch yourself too thin. You hold yourself to standards that are beyond human capacity, or even that of the gods.
“I didn’t invite you because I was afraid. I wanted you there but not in the crowd. I wanted you at my wedding, sharing the stage with me. But you’ve never shown an interest in me, so I settled for the woman that reminds me of you. When she confessed to me, I said why not.
“But tonight, you ran like a jilted lover from the wedding after meeting my family. You spent hours drunkenly ranting about me to Lambad and anyone who would listen. You fought me the whole way here, like seeing my face was the worst possible pain.” Alhaitham paused his confession, searching Kaveh’s face.
“Kaveh, you’re in love with me, aren’t you?”
Kaveh shoved his junior away.
“We’re both idiots. Lovesick idiots,” he groaned. Alhaitham snatched his chin, pulling him in for another kiss, this one softer but still needy.
“Then let’s be lovesick idiots together.”
The scribe’s hands roamed his senior’s body tentatively, ready to be rejected. The architect leaned in to the kiss, tangling his fingers into his junior’s hair.
This was going to be messy. All Kaveh ever wanted was to see his favorite people achieve their happily ever afters and to celebrate those moments with them.