Work Text:
The long rainy season has once again arrived in Sumeru City, and just as always, it is unyielding. Every outdoor surface has glistening traces of the ceaseless downpour that persists for days on end. The air is heavy with stifling humidity, clinging to each breath. The weight of the season hangs over the city.
With the coming of the season, the citizens of Sumeru City naturally find themselves adopting a leisurely pace. The persistent rain drew most to seek the comfort of their own homes.
For Kaveh, laziness comes in the form of slow evenings. After dinner was finished, instead of immediately attending to chores like dishes, he preferred to leave them for the next day, allowing himself the luxury of a relaxed night. Kaveh would instead pour himself a glass of wine and sprawl out on the divan, taking long sips from his glass as he unwinds for the day.
When Kaveh gets settled, and the air in the room becomes tranquil, it is then when Alhaitham joins him with a book in hand and plants himself on the opposite divan. The room would eventually crawl into a comfortable silence, and the atmosphere remains peaceful, with only the occasional sounds of pages turning or the fabric of the couch shifting and the pattering of rainfall outside their door.
In evenings like these, time seems to slip through their fingers, lost in their own worlds in the company of each other. It’s nice. It’s peaceful. On evenings like these, Kaveh tends to be quiet, as if his raging mind comes to a congenial steady. Alhaitham can’t complain. He finds relief in the stillness, savouring the rare moments of peaceful quiet in their home.
Not to say he doesn’t enjoy Kaveh’s chatter. Despite how often he likes to complain to the blonde’s face about it, Alhaitham secretly takes pleasure in hearing the architect’s endless rants and rambling, whether it be complaints of a current project or client, the day’s escapades or his nagging that inevitably turns into bickering between the two of them. Whether it’s Kaveh’s placid silence or his incessant prattling, Alhaitham is quite content with them both, so long as it’s Kaveh.
So tonight, when Kaveh falls into his usual evening routine, Alhaitham finds himself following suit, allowing himself to revel in the peaceful ambience of their home while Kaveh dozes off on the divan a few feet away from him after downing a glass of wine.
Hours have drifted by, and the sun has since dipped beneath the horizon. The soft daylight has drained from the living room, leaving the two men basking in the cozy lamp lights. Time catches up with Alhaitham, leaving him groggy and stiff from remaining in the same position for so long. Noting the page he left on, he shuts his book, shifting to an upright posture, and begins rolling his neck and stretching his joints. His eyes flick to the man in front of him.
There Kaveh is, nestled into the back of the divan, his wine glass left empty and abandoned on the table, dozed off. Alhaitham can’t control the softness that crept over his features at the sight of it. It truly is a blessing to see the other man rest like this, not caught up in upcoming deadlines or unfinished blueprints. It is nice to see him at ease for once. Kaveh is always bursting with life all the time, his passion and ambition bursting at the seams, showering the world with his light. But he finds that Kaveh is not any less blinding, even while asleep. Even in his unconscious state, Kaveh still manages to bear a resemblance of an angel. Light skirting over his pale skin, his blond tresses splayed out along the couch, his soft lips barely parted as soft air puffs were released.
Light of Kshahrewar, truly.
Shifting off the couch, Alhaitham silently strides to the slumbering man, kneeling down in front of him. Tentatively, he brings his hand up, brushing one of the blond locks that have fallen over Kaveh’s face. He stirs a little, his head shifting closer to Alhaitham’s hand, a contented sigh escaping Kaveh’s lips, brushing the skin of Alhaitham’s fingers.
“Haitham?” Kaveh croaks out, his eyes still shut.
A pang shoots through Alhaitatham, grimacing as he unintentionally wakes the blond.
“Go back to sleep,” Alhaitham whispers, his voice a quiet murmur to match the silence of the room. He brushes his fingers through the blond’s locks, aiming to lull the man back into his slumber.
Kaveh mumbles something unintelligible as he shifts and turns until he is fully facing Alhaitham, letting sleep pull him back.
Alhaitham lets his eyes roam up and down Kaveh’s sleeping form, committing the image to his mind.
How often had he seen Kaveh striving away during the late hours of the night, consumed by his work and dreams? Plagued by his past and his nightmares? It was moments like these that Alhaitham was most grateful for. When the world's weight was lifted from Kaveh's shoulders, he could exist for a moment, fully unburdened.
He reaches for the throw blanket at the end of the divan and gently drapes it over Kaveh. He then reaches over, carefully plucking out the numerous hairclips scattered in Kaveh’s hair. Once he’s finished, he quietly stands as he lets his gaze linger on the sleeping blonde for a moment longer. Just a moment, before he turns and retreats to his own bedroom.
Alhaitham remembers precisely when it happened. It was years ago, when they were still students at the Akademiya—the hours had gone well past the middle of the night, edging into the early morning in the House of Daena. It was the middle of exam season, so naturally, he and Kaveh were doing late-night studying.
Alhaitham can easily recall Kaveh’s dishevelled state. His blond hair tousled after hours of his fingers dragging and pulling through it. Dark shadows loomed under his eyes after continuous all-nighters. His eyelids drooped, threatening to stay shut from exhaustion, only staying open out of sheer stubbornness.
Alhaitham reminisces back to how they spoke that night, though he couldn’t remember exactly what they talked about. But what they said wasn’t important; it was the way Kaveh looked at him. He must’ve said a joke, some comment, because he remembers a tired laugh escaping Kaveh.
Alhaitham remembers the striking smile that passed over the blonde’s lips, a smile that radiated the first light of dawn as he tries to quiet his giggles in the silent library, a vibrant red spreading across his facial features.
In the late hours, holed up in the House of Daena, while Kaveh smiled so brightly, looking exhausted and a mess, Alhaitham realized he was in love with Kaveh.
It was not a sudden rush of unfamiliar emotion. Time did not cease to move forward. The world did not halt for a breath while it waited for Alhaitham’s next move. He simply looked at Kaveh, and it clicked in his head like it was an irrefutable fact. The sun sets at the end of the day, Sumeru is the nation of wisdom, Alhaitham is in love with Kaveh, and the world continued to spin madly on.
Alhaitham lets the facade slip during one of their regular evenings with Cyno and Tighnari. Well, it’s not so much that he lets it slip, but rather, Cyno's remarkable perceptiveness allows him to catch on. He supposes the man isn’t General Mahamatra for nothing.
“You’re staring rather intently, hm?” Cyno quips, his eyes darting to Kaveh, a few meters away at the bar, before quickly flitting back to Alhaitham.
Alhaitham grunts, his annoyance evident at being caught. "It's not staring. I'm merely witnessing him make a spectacle of himself," he asserts. His gaze remains fixed on Kaveh.
Said man, who was already a few drinks in and already quite tipsy, had approached the bar to order more drinks for their group. With his inhibitions loosened, he was creating quite a commotion, loudly engaging not only with Lambad but also with the other patrons seated at the bar.
Yet Alhaitham's gaze harboured no trace of judgment. No, instead, he found it utterly enchanting, the sight of Kaveh brimming with life. A broad smile embellished Kaveh's lips, along with a drunken blush that adorned his cheeks like a delicate watercolour stroke. His beauty was undeniable, a living masterpiece. It was a sentiment that he always intended to keep to himself. Though he is quite sure that his present company was already caught up, judging by the knowing smirks creeping up on their faces.
“Right,” Cyno drawls out, casting a glance at Tighnari, who stifled a small chuckle behind his glass.
"Don't act as if we are as oblivious as Kaveh is, Alhaitham. I swear, everyone and their mothers can tell...Ah, well, everyone except Kaveh himself, I guess,” Tighnari teases as he leans in toward Alhaitham, his eyes lit with mischief.
Alhaitham’s eyes roll upwards at Tighnari's quip. With his signature nonchalance, he brought the rim of his drink to his lips, allowing the taste to momentarily distract him from the topic at hand.
Cyno’s voice joined back in the conversation, his usual reserved tone taking on a note of curiosity. “So, will you ever do anything about it?”
Alhaitham sighs inwardly, the corners of his lips twitching with a mix of reluctance. “That is none of your business,” his response came swiftly and firmly, quickly closing the door on the topic. From the looks on their faces, Alhaitham knew they wanted to say more about the subject, but in an act of respect, or maybe it was mercy, they kept their mouths shut. In an unspoken agreement, Tighnari and Cyno allow the current of discussion to shift, moving their attention away from Alhaitham and talking amongst themselves as they awaited Kaveh’s return. Still, he can feel their occasional gazes being cast towards him.
Alhaitham pays no attention to them, letting his own mind wander, though the question remains. What actions could he take, if any? His mind meanders through a maze of contemplation, questioning the possibility of Kaveh embracing his emotions.
Is Kaveh able to open himself up again to the vulnerability of being loved? Would he be capable of accepting it? If Alhaitham were to give his heart to Kaveh, would his acceptance of it stem from genuine reciprocation, or would it be driven by his ceaseless well of altruism and aching guilt?
Would it be fair for Alhaitham to put Kaveh in that position?
Alhaitham had already decided that it would be for the best not to take that chance, not wanting to risk their already tentative relationship that they had finally managed to salvage. Yes, Alhaitham had already decided; this time, he was content with not knowing. This time, he won’t pursue an answer to his questions. He will continue to love Kaveh as he always has. He doesn’t need anything more than that.
The thought continues to sit in the back of his mind long after Kaveh's return to the table. However, Alhaitham notices that whenever his gaze is drawn back to the blond, he discovers those carmine eyes already fixed upon him, a radiant smile adorning Kaveh's lips. It eases his mind just a bit more.
“We are out of coffee, you know,” Kaveh remarks, a tinge of dismay evident in his voice. as he scrutinizes the empty container.
Without lifting his eyes from his breakfast, Alhaitham responds, "Opt for tea, then”
Kaveh scowls as he pivots to face Alhaitham. “We are out of the good tea that I enjoy,” he huffs, then raises his arm out to gesture at the counter, ”and might I mention our fruit bowl that has been empty for days.”
“You mean the expensive tea that has somehow fallen under my responsibility to buy?”A touch of dryness infuses Alhaitham's response, his voice laced with sarcasm.
This certainly triggers Kaveh’s temper. “You-!”
“I fail to understand why you are telling me all these things. If memory serves, the responsibility for grocery shopping falls squarely upon your shoulders,” Alhaitham interrupts, very matter-of-fact.
A mock gasp escapes Kaveh’s mouth. “You can’t expect me to go out in that rain? You’ve seen what the humidity does to my hair!” Kaveh says, gesturing to the window being pelted with water, but seeing Alhaitham’s unimpressed look, he sourly continues. “Besides, I’m still in the middle of a project, and I haven’t gotten paid by my client yet,” Kaveh adds on, the admission edged with a touch of embarrassment.
“Right, so you would expect me to be subjected to the weather and shoulder the financial responsibility.”
Kaveh huffs and turns his back on Alhaitham and goes to scrummage through their collection of tea flavours for one that he would enjoy, too tired and too uncaffeinated to continue their verbal spat.
Alhaitham shrugs and continues eating. The “issue” of him being the one to buy the groceries is really nonexistent. While the rain was a slight nuisance, it was not something that could put a halt to his daily activities. As for the ‘financial responsibility,’ the groceries were for both of them, so it only made sense for Alhaitham to fund the shopping once in a while. Besides, being the one with a steady income and, of course, not drowning in debt, it should be Alhaitham who pays for the groceries anyway. But it was by Kaveh’s insistence that the task of grocery shopping would be his chore, just as he had done with the other few chores and errands that came with keeping their home in order. So for now, Alhaitham will put up his reluctant front.
After Kaveh brewed his tea and sat at the table, the flow of their morning transitioned into a silence interrupted solely by the clinking of utensils. Eventually, Alhaitham’s meal finishes, and he rises to clear his dishes. Just before exiting the kitchen, his voice breaks the quiet.
“Once you’re finished with that, get ready.”
Confusion tinges Kaveh's voice. "Pardon me?"
Alhaitham just huffs and rolls his eyes. “Well, we still need groceries. And need I remind you that this task is still you’re responsibility. I will just come to cover the expenses.”
A look passes over Kaveh’s, and then,
“Fine.”
A while after breakfast concludes, and Kaveh has finally gotten himself cleaned up, he and Alhaitham embark on their grocery shopping trip to the bustling Grand Bazaar. Shielding themselves from the steady flow of rainfall, the two men huddle under a large umbrella being held up by Alhaitham. Well, it took a moment for Kaveh to express his annoyance and reluctance about sharing the small space with Alhaitham, while the former just rolled his eyes, waiting for the other to suck it up and just stand under the umbrella.
“I can just go back inside and grab another one,” Kaveh tries, his head turning back as a slight gesture back to the house.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alhaitham huffs, in a hurry to get going already, “we are going to be bringing back groceries, so it wouldn’t make sense to be carrying more things than we need to be.”
Kaveh seems to consider this, before grumbling under his breath as he finally joins the other under the umbrella, arms crossed childishly as he made an effort not to cross any physical barriers.
Alhaitham pays no mind to it as he starts their path to the grand bazaar. They fall into an easy stride together, their steps synchronized as they walk the glistening streets of the city. Their walk is quiet, neither one of them bothering to speak up, letting the cascading rain fill their ears instead.
Upon arriving at the Grand Bazaar, they flitter around the aisles and mosaic of vendors, the crowds of people, the hum of haggling voices, and the symphony of colours and fragrances overwhelming the senses.
The day proceeds normally enough. Naturally, it is Kaveh who enthusiastically engages with each merchant, while Alhaitham, ever the poised observer, trails behind, waiting for the indication that it is time to pay or tuning in whenever Kaveh asks his opinion on something. After successfully acquiring all the essentials on their list, Kaveh's eyes still shimmer with an undying curiosity, and he insists that they take the time to continue looking around, coaxing Alhaitham toward stalls that brim with artistic tools, clothing, and eye-catching accessories.
Amidst the vibrant chaos of the market, Alhaitham notices that Kaveh's gaze becomes fixated on something at the stall they’re browsing. Alhaitham traces his gaze and finds it fixed on a hairpiece, and Alhaitham has to admit, it is quite gorgeous. It's a masterpiece of craftsmanship, intricately designed with a touch of elegance. Kaveh’s hands reach out, and his fingers graze over its delicate contours. He turns over the tag attached to the item the reality of its price seems to dampen his mood. The fire in his eyes dims as he goes to move on to the next stall.
“Wait.” Alhaitham's voice cut through the bustling market, freezing Kaveh's intended retreat. A furrowed brow accompanied Alhaitham's command, and he motioned toward the ornate hairpiece that had captured Kaveh's attention. “You like it?”
Caught off guard by the unexpected interruption, Kaveh's gaze flickered between Alhaitham's inquisitive expression and the jewelled accessory resting upon its velvet cushion. "Well, yes," he admitted with a hint of reluctance, his eyes tracing the complex patterns of the piece, “but it is well out of my budget.”
Alhaitham's own eyes lingered upon the piece, a cascade of rubies that complemented the vermilion hue of Kaveh's irises. He imagines how it would look fastened in the waterfall of golden locks that cascade down Kaveh’s head. He recalls the entranced look on Kaveh’s face when he caught sight of the item. The disappointment on his face when Kaveh is about to leave it behind flashes in Alhaitham’s head. Alhaitham purses his lips and then turns to the merchant.
“This one, we’ll take it” he addresses the woman running the stand, pointing to the hair ornament. The vendor's lips curve into a knowing smile as she turns her attention to the two men.
Kaveh grasps at his cape, beckoning Alhaitham to turn away from the stand.
“Alhaitham!” Kaveh, who had taken to tugging at his cape in a subtle plea for Alhaitham to abandon whatever his goal was, growled out. “Stop embarrassing me! You know I cannot afford that,” he hisses under his breath, but his irritation is halted at the sight of Alhaitham taking out his mora. “What are you-?”
Undeterred by Kaveh’s protests, Alhaitham was already handing the mora over to the merchant. Before Kaveh could voice his bewilderment, the transaction had already finished, leaving him stunned.
“Alhaitham, why would you-?” Kaveh's question remained suspended, the words lodged in his throat as he watched Alhaitham's fingers cradle the hairpiece.
“You clearly liked it. This way, I won’t have to hear you complain all day about walking away from it,” He states, easily excusing his sudden act of generosity. Upon seeing the blond’s incredulous look on his face, his lips parting to voice his protests, Alhaitham adds in, “Besides, it suits you quite nicely, don’t you think?” It was an attempt to quiet the other man; simple compliments are, for some reason, what managed to leave Kaveh speechless. But his words still manage to bear an underlying, unspoken emotion.
Alhaitham presents the hairpiece to Kaveh. Crimson eyes flick between the accessory and Alhaitham’s strong gaze as a striking flush sweeps across Kaveh’s cheeks, a testament to both gratitude and disbelief.
Kaveh, ensnared by Alhaitham's stare, a mixture of emotions swirl within the depths of his burning eyes. “You…” His voice fell, carrying a weight of vulnerability as his fingers extended hesitantly, the tips of his digits brushing against Alhaitham's hand. The fleeting touch sent an electric jolt through him, and Alhaitham has to will himself not to reach out to him for more.
“Thank you,” Kaveh murmured, his voice carrying a quiet reverence.
“Sorry, what?” Alhaitham's voice was laced with amusement, letting them easily shift away from the heavy atmosphere around them.
“You brat! I know what you’re doing. Stop trying to tease me,” Kaveh responds with a scowl before turning away, but it doesn’t hide the redness still lingering on the tips of his ears.
Breaking free from the moment, Alhaitham guides Kaveh away from the vendor's stall, all the while Kaveh expertly maneuvers his fingers behind his head, hairpiece in hand, fastening it in his hair. Deciding that their little excursion had come to an end, Alhaitham led him back onto the streets of the city, heading to the familiar path toward their home. The rain is thinner now, but nonetheless, they huddle underneath the umbrella, bags in arms and a newly acquired accessory fashioned perfectly in Kaveh's hair. They stroll the familiar path back to their home, their arms brushing against each other the entire way home.
Upon their return, the aura of familiarity resumed as the two men seamlessly slipped back into the comforting rhythm of domesticity. Groceries are stored away in their respective spots, each of them fitting snugly into the worn spaces bearing the imprint of routine.
Yet, as they navigated their shared space, a magnetic draw seemed to exude from the newly acquired hairpiece. Alhaitham's gaze was drawn to it, the glint of the gems capturing his attention like stars in the night sky, contrasting against the blond head of hair. His fingers itched with a desire to run through it.
Aware of Alhaitham's gaze as if it were a tangible touch, Kaveh turned, his movements graceful and unhurried. Their eyes met, but Alhaitham didn’t turn away. Their gaze continues to hold as a million different emotions seem to pass through the pair of eyes. Time was suspended as the moment hung in the air.
“It really is quite lovely,” Alhaitham's voice slipped from his lips, soft, as if he was trying to keep something in the air from breaking.
“Thank you,” Kaveh replied, his voice a soft melody, caught in the hush of the moment. His smile took on a touch of vulnerability, and Alhaitham, his eyes never leaving Kaveh, responded with a nod. Seconds stretched as they stood. But, as if awakening from a spell, Kaveh briskly shakes his head, the sweet smile falling abruptly from his face. In a quick gesture, he pivots on his heel, deliberately turning his back to Alhaitham.
With a small sigh, Alhaitham let his gaze drift from Kaveh “So, what shall we have for dinner then?” He asks, easily falling back into routine.
And as if nothing happened, Kaveh follows,
“Oh, there was this new recipe that I’ve been wanting to try!-”
(They never address Alhaitham’s sudden generosity, yet Kaveh adorns the hairpiece many times afterwards, and with each instance, it never ceases to evoke a heavy feeling within Alhaitham)
The rain falls outside the scribe and architect’s house even into the late hours of the night. It’s pitter-patter, a quiet lullaby able to lull Alhaitham into a peaceful slumber. Unfortunately, its sound is unable to block out other noise, Alhaitham drowsily notes in his mind as he finds himself being roused from his sleep. Muffled noise had tugged at his awareness, waking him from his rest. Annoyed, Alhaitham blinks away the remnants of drowsiness as he gradually becomes attuned to the source of the disturbance, not at all shocked where it was coming from.
Alhaitham shifted in his bed until he was sitting up. With a purposeful movement, he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and rose, drawn towards the origin of the sound. He knocks once on Kaveh’s door to his room, deeming it warning enough, then swings the door open, unveiling Kaveh in a state of restlessness.
The man was pacing across the room, murmuring incoherently while skillfully navigating through a scatter of papers and strewn blueprints.
In the dim glow of the room's light, Kaveh's abrupt whirl stops as Alhaitham's presence pierces through his focused turmoil. Anger flares in his eyes, an unintended side effect of his frantic mindset being disrupted.
“Alhaitham! What are you doing?” Kaveh's words had a sharp edge, his irritation clear.
A weary sigh escapes Alhaitham's lips as he meets Kaveh's glare head-on. "The question should be, 'What are you doing still awake?' You do realize what time it is, right?" His voice bore the weight of exasperation, his own fatigue lacing his words.
“What-?” Kaveh's gaze darted towards the window; the image of the enveloping darkness outside seemed to jar him into realization. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
Defiance returned to Kaveh's tone as he bristled. “Well, that doesn’t matter much, I’ve got a deadline coming up, and I still have so much to do, so if you would get out and let me focus, that would be much appreciated.” Kaveh let’s out a loud huff and turns his back away from Alhaitham “Just go back to sleep,” he says, impatience colouring his words.
Alhaitham's eyebrows furrow in response, a crease forming on his forehead, a clear indicator of his patience waning. “I would-” he takes a heavy step forward“-except I’m being kept up by your constant pacing,”
“Just wear your headphones, then!” Kaveh retorts swiftly, his head turning to send a glare his way.
Alhaitham's expression tightened, his response clipped. “And wake up with a headache? Besides, we both know that is not the problem at hand. Kaveh, it’s late. You need to go to sleep. I mean, look at yourself. You’re a mess.” His hand gestured to Kaveh's dishevelled form.
And he was a mess. His clothes bore creases and folds that exposed his restless movement. His typically well-kept hair was messily pulled up, straying strands hinting at the chaotic hours spent, and dark shadows danced under his eyes, evidence of his lack of sleep.
Kaveh’s frowns, turning away from him. “I’m not…”
Kaveh's initial annoyance wavered, replaced by a mixture of fatigue and begrudging acknowledgement. The tension that had simmered in the room began to ease as Alhaitham gently approached the exhausted architect. With a heavy sigh, Alhaithaim drops his hands on Kaveh’s shoulders, urging him to turn around. Though he turns, Kaveh keeps his gaze pointed firmly to the ground.
With a heavy sigh, Alhaitham drops his hand to Kaveh’s wrist and tugs him towards the edge of the bed. He takes a seat, silently indicating for Kaveh to do the same, but ever the stubborn man, he decidedly remains standing in front of Alhaitham.
“Your dedication to your craft is like no other,” Alhaitham spoke softly, “But you benefit nobody by working yourself to the bone like this. You can become sloppy, make mistakes, and are not in the right frame of mind to assess your work properly. You know that.”
A bitter scoff escapes Kaveh, “I see how it is. You came here just to insult me, huh?” he spits, already moving to make a retreat before Alhaitham’s hand shoots out, grabbing Kaveh’s wrist once more, only this time gripping him harder.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know that,” he says, his tone forceful, “So stop being purposefully dense and defensive just because you know I’m right.”
“Archons, what do you want from me, ‘Haitham?” Kaveh groans out, his free hand rubbing his face, stopping to hold against his forehead.
“I would like for you to adopt proper sleeping habits and a healthy work-life balance, but I suppose that’s too much to ask,” he mumbles sarcastically, half under his breath but loud enough for the other man to hear him still.
“Well I wish you weren’t such an insufferable ass all the time!” Kaveh retorted, tugging at his arm in a futile attempt to free himself, but even in his own tired state, Alhaitham’s hold remained firm.
Alhaitham's expression remained resolute, his grip unwavering. "Senior, you're running yourself into the ground. You won’t do yourself or your project any harm if you rest for the night.”
Kaveh's eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and weakness. "You don't understand. You never do. I won’t let myself fall behind on this.”
Alhaitham's grip softened slightly as he studied Kaveh's worn features. “And you won’t. But can you truly say you’re producing your best work in a state like this?”
Kaveh's gaze met Alhaitham's, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “I…” he takes a moment to contemplate, then shakes his head, “Once I finish this, I’ll sleep. The deadline is in a few days, so I need to perfect it.” His words sound final, albeit his tone a bit softer, but Kaveh doesn’t move from the spot he stands.
"Ah, just a few days? Well, that's a bit of relief then,” Alhaitham remarked, a subtle note of sarcasm lacing his words. “It sounds like you do have a precious window for some much-needed rest. Imagine this, you wake up in the morning, well-rested, with a clear mind and a fresh perspective. Then, you can finish the task at hand. Don't you suppose?"
“It’s not that simple,” Kaveh retorts, frustration returning in his voice.
“You just enjoy making things harder for yourself.”
A pregnant pause lingers in the air, then Kaveh sighs, his resistance giving way to a sense of resignation. Slowly, he took a seat next to Alhaitham on the bed, dropping his head into his hand. “I’m so tired,” he admitted, his voice carrying the weariness of sleepless nights and tireless efforts.
Alhaitham softly drops a hand onto the blonde’s shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze. “I know.”
The room seemed to hold a delicate pause before Kaveh's voice trembled with the vulnerability of exhaustion, "I just can't shake this feeling that time is slipping through my fingers. Every attempt I’ve made- it's like grasping at smoke. Nothing seems right."
A sigh, filled with understanding, escaped Alhaitham's lips. His eyes met Kaveh's gaze. “Your own self-doubt is your biggest hindrance, Kaveh,” he said gently, his voice a steady anchor. “You aren’t called the Light of Kshahrewar for nothing. Every stroke on the page is a testament to your genius.
A playful spark danced in Kaveh's eyes, a brief respite from his weariness. "A compliment from you? Who are you, and what have you done with my Alhaitham?”
Alhaitham brushed aside the jest, his focus unwavering. "For now, just lay down, Kaveh. See if sleep can find you. Just for a little while."
Remaining quiet for a moment, Kaveh seems to consider it. Until finally, a reluctant nod. “Fine. Just… just for a little while.”
“Good. Though, if I end up waking up again and find you working, I won’t hesitate to tie you to the bed,” Alhaitham smirks, standing from the bed, his body desperate to go back to his own and fall back asleep.
“Shut up!” Kaveh bites out, flushing at the remark. Alhaitham, however, is already up and leaving. “Wait,” Kaveh calls out when Alhaitham reaches the door. Alhaitham pauses while Kaveh’s mouth bobs, as if he were trying to find what words to say. “Just-” Kaveh starts, only to hesitate as he tries to find his words.
“Thanks,” Kaveh finishes, his voice a quiet murmur as exhaustion seeps through.
Alhaitham had so many ways he could respond. You don’t need to thank me. Anything for you. I am happy to do it for you if it means you are okay.
But instead, he offers a nod, and he silently makes his way back to his own room.
A sense of unease lingered in the air, Alhaitham could feel it. Perched on the divan in the living room, he couldn’t stop his periodic glances at the front door. Although a book rested in his hands, its pages remained unturned, his fingers idly tracing patterns as he kept allowing himself to be distracted.
Heavy rain pelts against the house like stones falling down from the sky. The weather appeared to have no sense of relenting, persisting for quite some time. Amidst the storm, Alhaitham’s restlessness mirrored Nature’s turmoil.
Night was creeping in, the storm raged on, and Kaveh was nowhere to be seen.
He had left the house sometime before the weather took a turn for the worse, leaving without disclosing his destination. But judging by his demeanour throughout the day, Alhaitham's intuition had already guessed where he could be.
Alhaitham’s keen perception had already alerted him that something was weighing on Kaveh’s mind. He could tell by the Kaveh’s vacant stare, lost in whatever inner contemplation that his mind dragged him into. Alhaitham could sense it in the undeniable shift of vibrancy whenever Kaveh seemed to be near him. Alhaitham could tell in his breathing. If it were anyone else, Alhaitham would not care to notice such a minor shift in demeanour, but his vigilant attention was reserved for Kaveh because Alhaitham knows Kaveh and he also knows that something is amiss.
With a huff, Alhaitham decisively snaps his book shut. He casually tosses it onto the coffee table before him, seemingly unconcerned about the impending lecture for not putting it away properly. Draping a coat over his frame, he snatches up his umbrella and sets his course toward the tavern, fully aware of who awaits within.
When he opens the door, a gust of wind billows in, carrying in a spray of raindrops and loose foliage. Alhaitham cringes at the mess, but he leaves undeterred. The cobbled streets below his feet are transformed with puddles and mud, and the air is heavy with the smell of earth, but with every step, the tavern draws closer, its lights like a beacon from the weather's fury, until he finally arrives at his destination.
Upon entering, his gaze scans the array of individuals until it locks onto a head of familiar golden hair. As though drawn by an invisible force, his attention zeroes in on Kaveh, who sits solitary and hunched at the bar. An exhale of relief escapes Alhaitham's lips as he makes his way toward him.
The tavern was bathed in a warm, dim light, casting soft shadows on the worn wooden tables and the faces of its patrons. Kaveh leaned heavily against the bar, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the polished surface. Alhaitham sat on a stool next to him, watching him carefully. Kaveh never looks up, refusing to acknowledge his new company. They sit like that for what feels like an eternity until Alhaitham finally relents.
“What’s on your mind?” Alhaitham asked, his gaze gentle yet probing.
Kaveh finally turns to him, the light in the tavern catching in his hair. Despite his drunken state, he still looks lovely
“Old things,” Kaveh replied with a hint of slurred speech, his lips curving into a nostalgic smile. “I s’ppose I’ve felt nostalgic today,”
Alhaitham nods, giving Kaveh the space to continue. It remains quiet between the two for a while, while the noise of the tavern envelops them. The clinking of glasses, the distant laughter, and the muffled conversations became a backdrop to them.
“...It was hard,” Kaveh finally utters, his gaze dropping to his half-empty glass, “after our fight.”
Beside Kaveh, Alhaitham stills, his mouth going dry and his heart momentarily suspended. They seldom delve into that infamous fight. In fact, it only surfaces exclusively in moments when Kaveh is drunk, liquor being the only thing diminishing his inclination to conceal his genuine emotions. Nevertheless, whenever the subject comes up, it continues to churn a pit in Alhaitham's stomach, a void brimming with memories from the past, remnants of insults and attacks, and the echoing sound of tearing paper and retreating footsteps.
Kaveh's fingers clench around his glass, and he sighs, the weight of the past settling on his shoulders. “I was… I thought about you every day for so long after it,” he confesses, his voice carrying a mixture of vulnerability and regret. “I…Archons, I remember looking out during my graduation and trying to spot your face in the crowd. But you weren’t there.” His tone was steady for the most part, but Alhaitham picked up on the little tremor in his voice as he continued on, exposing his true feelings.
“I’m sorry,” Alhaitham whispers, his voice laden with sincerity. He longed to bridge the distance between them, to offer some solace to the pain that was so clearly overtaking the blond, but he barred himself.
Kaveh shook his head, his gaze fixed on a point beyond the bar. “I know.”
Silence settled between them for a moment, the ambience of the tavern flooding around them. Then, Kaveh's voice broke through the quiet.
“Did you ever regret it?” he asks, his words hesitant but unyielding in their desire for an answer.
“Regret it?”
“…Our fight” Kaveh's gaze met Alhaitham's, searching for something in the depths of those dark eyes.
Alaitham lets out a heavy sigh.“There is no point in regretting something so far in our past.” he replies, his tone measured yet carrying a sense of finality. “Regret will change nothing.” The truth in those words is like a bitter pill to swallow. Regret, Alhaitham knows, is indeed futile. No amount of dwelling on what could have been would alter the past they had lived.
Kaveh frowns at his answer, a furrow forming on his forehead. Upon witnessing Kaveh's discontentment, Alhaitham instinctively parts his lips to expound further.
“Despite everything that had occurred in our past, that had happened between us,” Alhaitham continued, his words deliberate, “we have still managed to end up in each other’s lives once again. So really, what use is regretting?”
A small, rueful smile tugs at Kaveh’s lips. “I s’ppose that's true,” he concedes, as his body loosens, the harsh weight he was bearing replaced with something more fragile.
Witnessing Kaveh's spirits lift, Alhaitham's own face broke into a gentle look. Alhaitham finally stands and extends his hand. “Shall we go home, Senior?”
A moment passes, then Kaveh reaches out, clasping his hand gently. “Of course.”
When they step out of the warm embrace of the tavern, the weather has miraculously taken a transformation for the better, having shifted into a soft rainfall, making their trek back much easier. Alhaitham’s hand is still attached to Kaveh’s as the latter leans on the other for support, drunkenly stumbling and narrowly avoiding slipping and falling into the various pools of water scattered across the street.
Alhaitham drew Kaveh in, his best attempt at keeping the drunk man from falling on his face. Kaveh lets out a breathy laugh as he buries his head against the other man’s shoulder. “You’re being so kind to me, Haitham,” Kaveh says, his voice muffled by the fabric of Alhaitham's cloak.
A soft hum was Alhaitham's reply, his touch steady, urging them to continue onward.
“You’ve been so kind, I dunno what to do ‘bout it.” Kaveh's words flowed forth, alcohol blurring his inhibitions. “How ’m I supposed to repay it.” Kaveh's words emerge like fragile whispers and quiet, nearly drowned out by the light pitter-patter of raindrops on the concrete.
In response, Alhaitham's grip tightened ever so slightly. “I’m not asking for any repayment. I don’t act with the expectation of reciprocation. I do it because I want to. You owe me nothing.”
They walk on, the rhythm of their footsteps merging with the melody of the rain. Each sentiment he had shared was the truth, a reflection of his genuine intentions. His actions harboured no ulterior motives, merely a consequence of the love he held for Kaveh, a love that surged within him, impossible to contain. It was a love driven by an earnest desire to bring happiness to Kaveh, to be a pillar of support, a caregiver. Alhaitham doesn’t want Kaveh’s kindness if it were out of pure obligation. Nor does he desire Kaveh’s love if it is built out of guilt. Alhaitham doesn’t care for repayment. His desire was simple: to love Kaveh.
That was enough.
Kaveh and Alhaitham don’t talk about a lot of things.
This is just how they are, or rather, how they've evolved to be. A fractured past acting as an unspoken barricade, a threshold they've both consciously avoided crossing. The history of their former friendship remains a topic untouched, as does the subsequent rift that drove them apart.
Kaveh has come to terms with this reality. In truth, he didn’t think he would be able to handle a conversation about that, at least not sober.
However, as of late, a subtle change has taken place between Kaveh and Alhaitham, a shift that looms in the space between them, though they both choose not to acknowledge it.
They don’t talk about how sometimes Kaveh will turn to look at him from across the room, only to find Alhaitham’s gaze already fixed upon him. They don’t talk about the lingering touches and the gentle graze of fingertips upon one another's skin. They don’t talk about how sometimes Kaveh will wake up tucked into a blanket and his hairclips carefully removed from his hair and set aside. They don’t talk about Alhaitham’s sudden generosity and his newfound penchant for indulging in Kaveh’s wants, disguised in half-baked excuses. They don’t talk about Alhaitham’s persistent and unwavering acts of caring suddenly woven into their dynamic.
It drives Kaveh mad.
Conflict may have driven them apart, but it fails to alter one thing: Kaveh has an intimate understanding of Alhaitham. Furthermore, the passage of time has done little to change Alhaitham, as Kaveh understands just as well.
Alhaitham is a man who rarely busies himself with affairs not concerning him. Given the option between aiding others and attending to his personal needs, he would in most cases, opt for the latter. This doesn’t make Alhaitham a bad person, Kaveh understands that now, even if he cannot agree with this sentiment. This divergence in philosophy will always be one of the driving differences between them, something etched into their nature.
Nevertheless, this is precisely why he cannot wrap his head around Alhaitham’s recent change in behaviour.
The confusion persists each time he secures his beautiful hairpiece, Alhaitham gifted him into his own hair. It’s what he tries to decipher when recalling Alhaitham’s gesture to ease him to sleep after his bouts of insomnia. It’s what he longs to understand every time he wakes up feeling the phantom touches of Alhaitham on his skin.
Alhaitham is not a cruel man; on the contrary, he is far from it. But to go out of his way for Kaveh? He cannot bring himself to understand.
Kaveh stands at a crossroads of emotions. This was everything he wanted from Alhaitham. At each gesture, he’s brought back to a better time, before the suffocating grip of financial burdens and the fracturing force of arguments that severed their friendship, back when Alhaitham was just his adorable junior, and they could revel in the liberty to care for each other with no remorse. But every time, it leaves an ache in his heart, accompanied by festering mourning for what they once were. A longing for what could be if everything between them was not already ruined—a complex dance between past and present, yearning and actuality. All the while, doubt swirls through his mind.
What could Alhaitham possibly want from him to warrant this treatment?
What could Kaveh even give him?
And that question haunts him because he already knows the answer.
Nothing.
Kaveh’s hands are empty, and Alhaitham deserves infinitely more than nothing.
Kaveh had long ago reconciled with the harsh reality that he would never have Alhaitham because the depths of Alhaitham’s worth far exceeded what Kaveh could ever give him. Love, profound and intense, coursed through his veins, which was why he could never bear to burden Alhaitham with it. And each lingering touch, each gift, each stolen glance served as a reminder of such.
But then everything comes to a head after the night at the tavern.
In an instance of weakness, Kaveh found himself ensnared by the haunting tendrils of the past, memories clawing at his thoughts all day like insistent ghosts. In an attempt to quell the storm of emotions, he surrendered to the intoxicating embrace of the tavern's offerings, hoping that the liquor might provide a respite from the cold grip of his memories. He supposed he should’ve known that would lead him right back to Alhaitham. Or, in actuality, Alhaitham went back to him.
Kaveh was unprepared for Alhaitham’s tender admission, which clashed head-on with every insecurity he harboured.
Staring through the kitchen window in the early morning, Kaveh watches as light raindrops splash against the window and fall like petals on the glass while Alhaitham’s words from the previous night echo in his head, emotion gripping his heart.
Time continues to pass, Kaveh locked in this moment until eventually, Alhaitham stirs from his slumber and joins him in the kitchen.
"You're up early. I would've thought you'd still be attempting to sleep off a headache," Alhaitham remarks, his voice husky from sleep.
Kaveh hums, his mouth suddenly dry as he musters the strength to turn around. He compels his gaze to meet Alhaitham's, a weight settling in his gut that stretches the distance between them into an unfathomable expanse.
"Did you mean what you said last night?" Kaveh's voice, though faint, carries an unwavering resolve, finally addressing what had long remained unspoken.
A moment passes, and then, “You still remember that?” With a swift nod, Kaveh’s lips purse, waiting for his answer.
“Of course I did. Speaking insincerities holds no value to me.”
"Alright," Kaveh concedes. A moment of silence follows, and Alhaitham interprets it as the end of their conversation. The man moves toward the cupboards to retrieve a mug and prepare his morning tea. But without thinking, Kaveh strides forward, his hand finding Alhaitham's wrist, urging him to stop.
"Why?" Kaveh's inquiry hangs in the air.
"Why what?" Alhaitham's confusion knits his brow.
“I-I don’t understand…why you would say that,” Kaveh clarifies, his voice wavering
Alhaitham looks even more puzzled. “Kaveh, I’m not sure I am following.”
“‘I do it because I want to,’” Kaveh echoes last night's conversation, his grip on Alhaitham's wrist tightening. “Why. Why do you want to? What do you want from me?”
Alhaitham's expression shifts into understanding, an 'oh' forming on his lips. “Kaveh, it’s as I said, I do not ask anything from you. Why must you question the kindness that befalls you?”
“Because it’s you, Alhaitham!” Kaveh tugs Alhaitham's arm, bringing them almost chest to chest. Alhaitham's breath grazes Kaveh's face. "Please," desperation laces Kaveh's voice, “I need an answer. I can’t wrap my head around it. And it is cruel to leave me feeling this way.” His fingers tightened their grip on Alhaitham's arm, his nails grazing the fabric of Alhaitham's shirt.
Alhaitham's gaze never wavered, his free hand lifting to cradle Kaveh's cheek with a gentleness reserved for precious treasures, his thumb sweeping gently across Kaveh's cheekbone as if trying to erase the worries etched there. “It was never in my intention to be cruel, Kaveh. That is the furthest thing from what I want.”
Kaveh's breath caught, his heart clenching at the genuine concern in Alhaitham's eyes. The vulnerability he saw mirrored his own, “Then what do you want, Alhaitham?”
A sense of urgency hung in the air, the room charged with emotion. Alhaitham's head tilts down as his fingers continue their tender caress against Kaveh's cheek.
“I want you, Kaveh,” Alhaitham admits, his voice a mixture of longing and resolution. “I want your happiness. I want to witness your well-being. That is all I want from you.”
Tears pool in Kaveh's eyes, the weight of Alhaitham's words crashing over him like a tidal wave. The confession was overwhelming, threatening to shatter him.
"Haitham," he rasps.
"You don’t owe me anything, Kaveh," Alhaitham whispered, his thumb tracing the path of a tear down Kaveh's cheek. Their faces were impossibly close, close enough that Kaveh could feel Alhaitham's warm breath brushing against his parted lips. “Not your heart, not your guilt. If you do not reciprocate-"
Unable to hold back any longer, tears spilled down Kaveh's cheeks as he surged upward, his lips finding Alhaitham's in a fervent kiss. In a heartbeat, Alhaitham's desperate reply mirrors Kaveh's as he swiftly frees his arm from Kaveh's grasp, only to encircle it around Kaveh's waist and draw him closer. They gasp into each other, breaths filled with desperation after years of longing. When Kaveh pulls back, his breaths laboured, his face flushed, and his lips slightly parted.
Kaveh's thoughts are a swirling tempest of emotions, a whirlwind that engulfs him entirely. "I—" His voice catches in his throat, and after a hesitant swallow, the words spill forth, "I love you," he finally confesses.
The response is written all over Alhaitham's smile--a declaration that requires no words. Love, it dawns on Kaveh, is the answer he sought all along. The solution to the problem that haunted him. The singular force that has propelled Alhaitham to this very moment--the singular truth that Kaveh could freely offer.
Over the span of several days, the rain gradually relents, eventually ceasing altogether-- an indication of the end of the dreary rainy season in Sumeru City. Once more, the sun graces the city with its warmth and radiance, and life resumes like it always has.
Within their home, Kaveh and Alhaitham seamlessly fall into the comforting rhythm of domesticity. Yet, the unspoken emotions that were once confined within their hearts now unfold openly, now embraced as if it were innate in their very beings to love each other-- a fact that holds them as deeply as the most enduring truths of the world, as if they were falling into the natural order of the world. When the wet season yields, follows the dry. Sumeru is the Nation of Wisdom, Alhaitham and Kaveh love each other, and the world continues on.
