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The grass is always greener wherever Kaveh was.
Alhaitham thought so to himself, a cheesy sentiment, but it wasn't just the grass he was talking about. Kaveh lay on his back next to him, shards of green a contrast to the white button up he wore. Everything seemed to glow around him, and he himself was no exception to that. It was 5pm, the sun's cue to leave; this time of the day was always beautiful to Alhaitham, he would always allot a few moments to look away from his desk to observe the sinking skies, but it's never been this gorgeous before: golden, melting sun over Kaveh's skin, the flower that he put on his ear was now tucked gingerly into the softness of his just as golden hair. His red eyes looked like the sweetest strawberry syrup, the only syrup Alhatiham would consider just the right sweetness.
"What are you looking at?" Kaveh asked him, the usual look of fondness he's always seemed to reserve for him making another few beats of Alhaitham's heart spike. His red clips were askew, just a small bit. Alhaitham had convinced him to take it off, to get the full experience of letting the earth soothe your back without the stress of it getting tangled in his hair again (this happened one too many times), but Kaveh insisted—"Who cares if it gets tangled? You're the one who takes it out for me, and it gives you a reason to play with my hair too, you know." Alhaitham has grown a liking to how Kaveh loved to get his hair played with. When he's away for work, Alhaitham would sometimes sit on the grass, running his fingers through the greenness, pretending it was Kaveh's hair as he watches the sunset on his own.
Archons. This is exactly the type of thing he'd raise his eyebrows over in the romance books he's read. Love has made him crazy. That would mean he's been crazy his entire life, but that doesn't bother him. Loving Kaveh felt like muscle memory, like fate; it was just that natural to him.
"Psst. Haitham. Penny for your thoughts?" His voice pulled him out of his reverie, a cheeky smile on Kaveh's features, and it's a routine at this point: Alhaitham gets so lost in thought while staring at him, and Kaveh likes to ask him that, just to hear the answer he'll never grow tired of.
"You. You look beautiful."
Alhaitham was a blunt man—Kaveh was no exception to this, but with him, it's his affections, as well: he's just as straightforward with his never-ending compliments to the architect. Kaveh never seemed to get used to it, and it's endearing, really—he would tell him he has the prettiest eyes he's ever laid on without thinking twice and Kaveh would immediately hide his face in his hands and blush. Alhaitham never grew tired of reminding the other of how much he makes the world brighter. He could do this forever; there was just so much to adore about him that even forever wouldn't be enough time for him.
Kaveh's smile at him ever so slightly grows wider, sweeter. "Keep sitting," he asked sheepishly, now laying on his side, eyes never breaking away from the view he's enjoying. "I want to look at you a little longer. You look… like a masterpiece, waiting to be drawn."
Alhaitham was more composed with taking the compliments, on the surface, at least. His ears would get all hot each time, but how his lips quirk into a smile wasn't as messy as how Kaveh would start blabbering upon being praised. "Should I commission you to create that masterpiece then, my senior?" Alhaitham teased, hand already holding Kaveh's wrists away from his face so that he won't hide this time.
"S-Stop calling me that!" He protested, so very flustered, but oh, Alhaithan knew he wasn't really complaining.
"I said 'my senior'. Won't you acknowledge that sly implication of.. possession?"
"Haitham!" Kaveh rolled over to bury his face onto Alhaitham's lap, trying to hide his pink cheeks as much as possible. "You and your… linguistics!"
"It's just a possessive pronoun, Kaveh." Alhaitham instinctively began to play with his hair, fixing the flower that's almost tangled in the blond waves. "Even a fourth grader in the Akademiya wouldn't even call that exclusive to linguists like me." He felt Kaveh sigh, and Alhaitham didn't hold back the laugh that bubbled out of his chest.
"A fourth grader would be weeping at how much of a cheeseball you are!" Kaveh argued, landing a playful punch to Alhaitham's ankle.
"Hmm, and don't you like cheeseballs?" Alhaitham wondered out loud, trying to sound unfazed. "I made you those last week."
"Will you stop?!" Kaveh was kneeling up now, their faces level as he grabbed Alhaitham's face with his hands.
"If I don't, what are you gonna do, senior?" He knew the answer. He wanted it, anyway.
"This," Kaveh shut him up by catching his lips using his. This always does the trick, and it might be Alhaitham's favorite trick among the many, many tricks up his beloved roommate's sleeve. The kiss broke off because of how much they were smiling into it, and Kaveh, not really wanting the moment to end just yet, planted a kiss on the other's nose—you know, for good measure. To hopefully shut him up more.
"You should annoy me more often if you want my kisses that much," Kaveh chuckled, not being able to resist giving him another peck. His eyes were gleaming; he wore happiness like a beautiful set of robes. "This is the only way to shut you up."
This wasn't a challenge, not to Alhaitham. As long as he was himself, and as long as Kaveh was Kaveh, he'll always find ways to be annoying, and he'll get kisses in Kaveh's attempts to stop it.