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1
Alhaitham didn’t mean to kiss him. He also didn’t mean to not kiss him but Alhaitham knows that Kaveh will never accept any explanation he gives him, so Alhaitham opts for neither.
It is one of those things he has thought about extensively but kept private; thoughts of soft lips, warmt breaths, and slotting close to kiss those worries away are nothing but fluttering wishes packed away in his heart.
Kaveh makes it difficult, as evidenced by what just happened. Alhaitham is often caught between wanting to shake him or soothe him. Kaveh’s frowns are beautiful. That aggressive, sharp line that digs into his brow when he’s annoyed is something that haunts Alhaitham’s dreams.
Alhaitham is not an artist but if he were, he’d paint pictures of his likeness. They’d be nothing like those self-portraits that are half-finished in Kaveh’s room, they’d be handsome things where every inch of him is carefully articulated for the rest of the world to see him as he is.
Kissing away the soft pout that sat on Kaveh’s face was an intrusive thought that became reality, which Alhaitham will have to now answer for.
Kaveh sputters. “I— what—” Confusion flits across his face as he taps his fingers against his mouth. But then, there it is, just the barest hint of a grin ghosting his lips.
Alhaitham has never kissed him before, or anyone else for that matter. He’s never cared to do so. But, as with most things, Kaveh is the exception to his carefully constructed rules. Alhaitham’s grave is dug. The logical thing would be to lean into it.
He opts to tease Kaveh, reaching out to swipe his thumb over the corner of his mouth. “A wrinkle,” says. “You always get a little crease right here when you’re displeased.”
“And so you kissed me?”
“Was it unwelcome?”
Alhaitham doesn’t think so. He and Kaveh might still be repairing whatever lies between them but he isn’t a fool to think that something isn’t there. Alhaitham finds himself overly critical of others, but Kaveh is… just Kaveh. And he’s fond of that.
His question is unexpected. Kaveh’s mouth hangs open slightly as his brow furrows. Cute. Oh, he looks delightfully annoyed. More unwanted, intrusive thoughts that will likely be the death of Alhaitham.
“Annoying, aren’t you?” is Kaveh’s expected reply.
“Kaveh—”
“—But to answer your terrible question—”
“Terrible,” cuts in Alhaitham with a murmur.
“—no.”
They both pause. Kaveh stares Alhaitham down stubbornly as his cheeks tint pink. His honesty comes as a refreshing surprise. Kaveh is a lot of things but to be honest about himself is not one of them. Brutally blunt when it comes to describing others, even to his detriment, yes, but himself?
Alhaitham just stares back.
“Are you going to…?”
“To what?”
“Say something, you ridiculous man!”
Alhaitham has done a lot of research in his life but this is one of those areas where all of his compounded scholarly experiences offer little help. He is new to love and feelings, and therefore finds himself in a rare situation with having no answer.
“You always pout when you’re annoyed.” Kaveh was honest with him, so perhaps he will appreciate the truth. “And I had the rather intrusive thought to kiss it away.”
To his credit, Kaveh looks more baffled than anything, just a scrunching of his features as he watches Alhaitham warily, waiting for him to admit it was a joke. Which, of course, it isn’t. Kaveh waits long enough for the eye contact to become bothersome.
Alhaitham leans back against the end of the couch, turning his attention back to his book. “For the record, it worked.”
“What did?”
“You smiled, so it worked.” Alhaitham flips a page in his book. “Of course, if you would prefer for it to not happen again—”
“No, it’s—” Kaveh catches himself about to say something stupid, no doubt. Alhaitham’s gaze flicks back to Kaveh to find him biting his lip. “Not the worst kiss I’ve shared by any means, but there is a lot to be said about your lack of technique. I would not be against any… unusual bouts of curiosity, or potential efforts to practice.” Kaveh then clears his throat. “If you were to be interested in that, of course.”
Alhaitham’s fingers dig into the soft pages of his book. His heart skips a beat at that, a strange and curious sensation. “Duly noted,” he replies.
2
Kaveh comes home late one night barely standing on his feet.
“Off,” he murmurs, pushing at Alhaitham when he tries to help. Alhaitham grunts, trying to keep him upright long enough to at least make it to the bathroom. They’ve done this song and dance before. Kaveh hasn’t been home in two days, holed up at whatever tiny office that Akademiya is letting him use. He’s worked himself beyond exhaustion, he’s a dead man walking.
“Let me help.”
“Haitham, I don’t need help. I’m just tired.”
Alhaitham still hasn’t figured out Kaveh’s insistence on doing things himself. It is an ideal that extends to everything; from his dramatic cawing about paying rent (unneeded), to splitting everything as equally as possible (also unneeded), to brushing off Alhaitham’s attempts to help (or, as his intrusive thoughts would insist, to spoil him).
He so rarely attends to anyone else in such a way, so frankly, Kaveh should be thankful. Alhaitham has enough decorum to at least not mention it.
“I assume you are not up for a shower.”
“Not if you want me to fall asleep in the tub and drown.”
Alhaitham definitely doesn’t want that. Kaveh finally manages to kick his shoes off in the entry. Alhaitham tugs at his arm and says, “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
Kaveh grunts but doesn’t push him off this time, letting Alhaitham guide him to the bedroom. “I’m too tired to even—”
“Fresh clothes, at least.” Kaveh huffs, but shucks off his clothing, letting Alhaitham pull a loose shirt over his head. True to Kaveh’s promise, his eyes droop the moment his face is pressed into the pillow. “Be angry at me tomorrow,” he mutters.
Alhaitham settles onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping underneath his weight. “Whatever for?”
But Kaveh doesn’t answer, already asleep. Alhaitham brushes his bangs back with his knuckles. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kaveh so loose-limbed and relaxed. Alhaitham wants him to keep that expression. He dips forward and kisses his brow, indulging in the moment, even if he’s the only one who will remember it.
3
Alhaitham is notoriously picky about his coffee, which is why it comes as a surprise to find Kaveh brewing it one morning. He shuffles into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, still half-dressed for the day and barely alive. He is not a morning person. He is slow to wake up and even slower to become a decent human being. Coffee is an integral part of the process.
“I didn’t want to hear your whining about how I was taking too long to use the press, so I just brewed our cups together.”
Alhaitham blinks slowly as steps closer.
“And before you even say anything,” Kaveh continues before Alhaitham’s sleep-addled brain can even form words, “ yes, I ground the beans on the coarse setting. Yes, I measured them out with the scale. Yes, I tested the temperature of the water, and yes, I let the grounds properly bloom. I’ve been standing here an absurdly long time, pouring the water over the grounds so you owe me—” A pause. “What are you doing?”
Were Alhaitham more alert and thinking with his front brain, he might have realized that he’s pressed close, rested his chin on Kaveh’s shoulder, and yawned directly into his ear. Kaveh seems more confused than anything else.
Alhaitham is not thinking properly, though. He just hums softly and kisses Kaveh’s cheek, grumbling softly, “Thank you.”
Kaveh relaxes against him with a sigh. And Alhaitham doesn’t move, just stands there against him, huddled close, watching as Kaveh pours the rest of the water over the grounds. “Insufferable,” he mutters fondly.
When the acrid, sharp tang of the coffee hits Alhaitham’s nose, his brain kicks on. “Kaveh, I—” His voice is thick. He doesn’t really know how to reply.
“You’ve already thanked me.” Kaveh pours the coffee into two cups and turns to hand Alhaitham his. Despite the early morning, Kaveh still manages to look put together, even in his pajamas.
Alhaitham’s hand curls into his shirt. His gaze drops to Kaveh’s mouth.
As he dips closer, Kaveh says, “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. Kiss me at your own risk.” Kaveh makes no move to pull away. In fact, he seems to lean in slightly, fingers curled around his own mug.
It’s a quick kiss, a soft peck, but Alhaitham can still feel the softness of Kaveh’s lips.
A good way to start the morning, he thinks.
4
Kaveh rages.
Alhaitham lets him, watching as Kaveh stalks around the room. He doesn’t throw anything. His words are sharp and though directed at him, Alhaitham knows that he is just an unwarranted target. Kaveh is the sort to let things fester until he bursts, and letting him get it all out and smooth it later is the best course of action.
“Cruel, cruel people, Haitham! Quick to call me a creative genius and even quicker to brush it off when the topic of payment comes up.” Kaveh pulls at his hair and lets out an aggrieved sound. “I cannot stay here forever. I cannot live in the spare room until the end of time. I cannot—”
Alhaitham pulls Kaveh close. He cups Kaveh’s cheeks and kisses him, something more than the soft pecks they’ve shared until now. This is meant to kiss away those fears and doubts, to kiss away Kaveh’s troubles, to remind him that he is not alone. It’s a kiss that means love and though Alhaitham is a well-articulated man, this is the one thing that he struggles to find the words for, as simple as it is.
Kaveh’s breath catches. His hands fall against Alhaitham’s hips and he kisses him back. Every complaint dies in his throat. All that anger melts away in favor of tasting Alhaitham’s mouth.
When they part, Alhaitham still cups his cheeks. He smooths his thumbs over those damnable high cheekbones and watches the way that Kaveh’s eyelashes flutter against them. “I don’t want you to leave. I will buy whatever groceries you need, or skincare, or soaps and shampoos, but you don’t need to leave.”
“Haitham.” His mouth drips from Kaveh’s lips effortlessly.
“Please do not deny me the pleasure of kissing you every day.”
“You don’t kiss me every day,” says Kaveh.
Alhaitham tips his face up slightly. “Would you like me to?”
“I thought it was obvious but I see that my careful flaunting around has done little to coax the cockles of your brain.” Kaveh gives him a fond expression. “It’s alright, Haitham. Even geniuses are idiots at times.”
Their next kiss is softer and sweeter. And the next and the next.
Kaveh seems to have entirely forgotten that he was ever mad.
5
Alhaitham and Kaveh are in the market with friends when he makes a mistake. Kaveh laughs, and turns to him, showing him an absurdly expensive shampoo with the promise that it’ll make his hair texture a little more sufferable. Alhaitham’s hair is fine, not that it matters, but the shampoo finds its way into their bags nonetheless. Kaveh pays for this one with part of his scant savings, a kind gesture that warms Alhaitham’s heart.
Their relationship has no name. They haven’t confessed but it’s because they both already know—sharing those words will be nice when they come, but Alhaitham doesn’t need Kaveh to say them to know that they share something special.
Alhaitham leans over and kisses his temple without a second thought. And Kaveh smiles, leaning into it with an expression so bright he might as well be the sun.
And Tighnari stares at them, mouth open and hopelessly confused. He doesn’t mean to drop the cup he was holding but—well, as the saying goes, you break it, you buy it.
+1
Alhaitham steps into their home with a grunt and a quick complaint on his lips. “I didn’t ask for this,” he mutters. “The hours are too long. I haven’t read a new book in days.”
Kaveh is amused by all his complaints about the temporary job. Did he think anyone else would be chosen as the Acting Grand Safe? And does Alhaitham think that it is actually temporary? Because Kaveh would bet a year’s worth of wages he doesn’t have that Alhaitham is locked into this position until retirement.
He leans against the bookshelf in the main den, arms crossed over his chest. Alhaitham curses quietly, listing out every mild annoyance he’s had with the Akademiya as of late. Kaveh hides a grin behind his palm.
It is a long process. Alhaitham just dumps everything where he shrugs it off, promising he’ll pick it up later. He never gets around to it. Kaveh is the one who cleans up his messes, carefully folding his clothing and tucking his shoes back near the front door.
“Haitham,” he says finally, crossing the room.
“Kaveh—”
Kaveh kisses him. He tugs his face close, not caring that Alhaitham is still caught in his coat as he presses their lips together. Alhaitham looses a surprised sound but lets Kaveh do as he wishes because this is rare. Kaveh does not take initiative. Alhaitham is the one who doles out kiss after kiss, sweeping Kaveh along for the ride.
He remembers that first time. “I had the rather intrusive thought to kiss it away,” said Alhaitham months ago. Kaveh chalked it up as a childish excuse to finally make a move.
But now, he understands. Alhaitham’s expression was severe and tired, a line creasing right between his brows that deepened with every complaint he spouted.
“What was that for?” asks Alhaitham when Kaveh pulls away.
“I wanted to kiss your annoyance away. Did it work?”
Alhaitham’s mouth tilts up on one end, a soft smile typically reserved for only Kaveh. He shrugs off the rest of his coat, dropping it to the ground. “The result is unclear. At least several trials are needed for an accurate result.”
Kaveh laughs as he leans in again.