Work Text:
Kaveh sits before yet another failed project of his, destroyed in the wake of an earthquake after a month of hard work. The substantial loss of materials and the waste of funds left behind in its wake.
It's his fault, he acknowledges, for not preparing an appropriate structure. Yet another debt to pay with money he doesn't have.
Somehow, he always ends up empty handed.
Whatever he builds with his hands bare, it collapses on him. As if the nature of his creations was too ambitious, too large to be shaped into a reality unfit to embody it. He pours his passion into projects, temporary vessels for the enormity of his passion, all at once and all too fast, only to find out just how unstable his design was from the start.
Whatever he owns, he signs it off to someone else's name. Oftentimes, mundane luxuries and superfluous commodities become burdens that chain an artist's will down to earth too much. Yet all properties have purpose and worth, whether practical or sentimental, and there will be another willing to give them the value they should be granted.
And whatever he earns, he shares it with others. Those who need it more than him, those who want it more than him, anyone with a reason to deserve it more than him. The weight in his pockets makes it harder to cross through the Wall of Samiel either way, and Lambad's food tastes better with company at the end of the day.
Like a glass that's perpetually overflowing, he gives away the contents of his heart lest they become a permanent part of him. Possessions or joy or his burdens or his love, as long as he fires them back at the world, he won't have to run away from them.
Except now looking into the General Mahamatra's scarlet eyes as he takes in the disaster of what was supposed to be his new home in the desert, Kaveh desperately wants to hold on to everything.
Whatever could be salvaged from the torn down construction, whatever properties he once owned, whatever money he ever earned, anything just to make Cyno happy.
But a man who owns nothing can't promise the world.
Cyno however doesn't mourn the losses.
"Accidents happen" he tells Kaveh with a reassuring palm on his shoulder.
Whether material or living, whether welcome or unwanted, everything that comes to him must also depart —and then begin anew.
Even the air in his lungs is transitory, even his flesh will rot away from his bones —and then become nutrients for another organism.
“I don’t hold grudges against the natural flow of life.”
Perhaps this home was meant to be short lived, surviving as an idea alone, and maybe it’ll turn into seeds for something new.
Kaveh’s hunched figure sinks further down.
"I'll pay everything back to you" his voice trembles, with eyes cast in shadow behind golden strands of hair.
Cyno sits next to him, taking off his headpiece as his silver locks cascade over his shoulders.
"I won't disregard a man's commitment to honor his business, but there's no rush."
He's a simple man who's never changed his spending habits, after all. His ever growing savings account is just a resource with no value of its own, as long as he can cover the wages of Aaru Village's school staff and indulge the hobby that takes his mind out of the heavy matters of his duty, he doesn't care about its size.
"Unless this is your way to tell me you're quitting" he adds, tone dry.
Kaveh's head snaps in his direction, as if he had just heard a horror story. He looks like he means to ask something, hesitantly glancing over to the disaster in front of them.
Cyno shrugs. "I still need somewhere to crash when I come to Aaru Village."
He is of course always welcome to stay at the chief's house, or Kandake's house, or mr Belkacem’s, miss Jawahir's, or Maruf’s.. all the locals are accommodating with him when they get to know him. But he’s not one to grow roots in any place, always on the run with people to see and responsibilities to attend.
He’d rather let his loved ones build a life independent from him, so as not to disrupt their peace.
Kaveh blinks a couple of times, pondering how to phrase his response.
“I thought you were moving. To settle down.”
“That would be troublesome, considering my job description.”
A mix of shameful relief and realization strike the architect’s features, slowly stiffening into more moderate contemplation.
He sighs, as if in pain.
“I was so caught up in my own head I didn’t even ask you about it.”
That’s one way of saying he was afraid to find out.
The house he was building was a declaration of sorts, of things he wouldn’t have the chance to say once Cyno left the city.
Thus Kaveh drained himself of feeling, and materialized it into a form that would do what he couldn’t. A roof to protect him, walls that would warm up his nights, a welcoming interior to soothe his everyday pains. Something grand, something beautiful, something enduring.
And it all crashed down without ever being seen.
Cyno fidgets with the earrings adorning the ears of his headpiece, carefully placed between his crossed legs, then leans into it, resting his head on his crossed arms as he takes in Kaveh’s face from below. A crystalline refraction of moonlight flickers in the corner of his eye.
“I wanted it” Cyno says at last, then pauses for a few seconds. “What you were willing to build for me, in whatever shape you want to give it to me, I want it.”
Kaveh holds his gaze, and time is suspended for a while. Perhaps minutes, perhaps years.
The fractured rivers of emotion in his heart, met by the still ocean of quiet acceptance in Cyno’s eyes.
He reaches with his hand. Cyno allows him into his space.
“Our brave General Mahamatra” he says, softly, a mere whisper of the desert wind, as he tucks a silver lock behind Cyno’s ear.
Cyno closes his eyes at the touch.
“Even seeing loss before you, it won’t deter you from going ahead.”
A warning.
“Loss is part of life. How could I be afraid of living?”
A proposition.
Alhaitham expects the kiss, he's just not prepared to witness it first hand when he walks into the ruins of the failed project.
Kaveh is arched over the General's figure, tense shoulders finally relaxing after several sleepless nights dedicated to design blueprints and long days of construction on site.
He kisses slowly, as if trying to make each moment last, memorizing the shape of Cyno’s lips against his.
The moonlight caresses his soft features with gentle brushes, but he’s so pale from accumulated exhaustion he looks ill. The eye bags don’t help either.
He’s lucky Cyno’s not the kind of person who would comment on that, instead letting himself be held in two arms that could hardly carry his weight should they tried to lift him.
Kaveh kisses past the corner of his mouth, across his cheeks, through his temples, and they melt into each other as he places a last kiss on his forehead.
That’s when he notices the scribe standing by. Finally.
Kaveh coughs loudly, choking on words of spite and surprise, while Cyno clears his throat as he fixes his hair under the headpiece he hurriedly puts on in a quick, nervous motion.
“I heard about the earthquake” rolling his eyes, Alhaitham explains himself before the question is raised.
It’s not the first time he’s been exposed to a form of forbidden knowledge, and he knows avoiding the fact would only create unnecessary confrontations just like hiding a canned knowledge capsule in his person prompted a misunderstanding that escalated into an assassination attempt.
“Anyway”
But he’s also not one to get caught in the details, so he won’t ask and he expects not to be told either.
He didn’t take divine knowledge when it was offered to him on a silver plate, and though something deep down something eats at the roots wrapped around his core, urging him to find out the extent of what he walked into, he’d rather stick to principles: knowledge is not meant to be conquered for the sake of ownership.
What little he owns is what proved to be beneficial one way or another.
As he glances between Kaveh and Cyno, who avoid each other’s eyes while putting their clothes back into place, Alhaitham knows the truth behind the glow in their blushed faces is not for him to own.
“I assumed you’d be sulking here, given your propensity to ruin your passion projects.”
If someone had been witness to the sacrifices the architect had made and the fantasies fueling such dedication, it was of course his roommate, who tried to argue against ideas unfit for reality and cleaned his desk every time the other succumbed to exhaustion.
“You–” Kaveh fumes, stomping his foot on the sand. “So what, you’re here to mock my bad luck?”
Alhaitham shrugs, then turns to the General, who keeps hiding his eyes beneath his headpiece.
“The request made to register this project as housing for an official member of the Akademiya’s working force was approved, half the budget spent will be covered by the insurance.”
Cyno’s head snaps up to meet his eyes, opening his mouth to say something but stopping himself at the last moment.
“That’s good!” Kaveh beams. “I didn’t know you guys could do that.”
“A half for this failure has already been transferred to the General’s account, and the other half for the second try will come shortly after” Alhaitham raises a pedantic brow at his roommate. “But I doubt a third time will be granted after that, unless you want to get the General in trouble for possible fraud, do make this one count.”
Kaveh groans in frustration.
Cyno holds Alhaitham’s gaze, something soft and warm dancing in his eyes. Alhaitham waves a dismissive hand in the air, fast enough for his roommate not to notice as he rants about manners.
As they both know, what Alhaitham’s just said is bullshit. No such regulation exists.
“I didn’t actually sign up for that program, you know” Cyno lies, a dimple blooming on the corner of his mouth that Kaveh can’t see.
“Oh?”
“Someone must have done the paperwork for me, do you have any idea who–”
“I’m off the clock now” Alhaitham interrupts, turning around to leave.
“Didn’t know you were working night shifts” Cyno taunts him, his voice playful.
“The knowledge of my working hours only belongs to me” Alhaitham says as he walks away, putting a much deserved end to the conversation.
He owns enough capital, both inherited and earned, to spend on useless pursuits of the heart, there’s no shame or regret in material loss if there’s something to gain from it.
And while it’s true that little in this vast world of knowledge and emotion belongs to him, he knows that the gratitude in Cyno’s soft eyes and the relief in Kaveh’s hard working shoulders tonight are only his. And what he has obtained shall always remain in his possession.