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It isn’t apparent until Tighnari says something. “You fight like an old married couple,” he says as he leans over a steaming pan, tossing around red onions.
Alhaitham leans against the counter, holding a glass of wine that is mostly full because he’s still too awkward to decline it when offered. “I…”
No, that isn’t right, he thinks as his gaze slips to Kaveh who sits at the kitchen table with Cyno, agitated over their current TCG match. Kaveh is not his husband, he will never be his husband, and it isn’t that Alhaitham would want him as one, but—
It isn’t as though he wouldn’t want such a thing, either. Marriage… Alhaitham thinks it wouldn’t be so terrible. Practical, even. They get along. They share the bills, taxes, and—apparently—dubious taste in friendships. Such a union would be a logical step, no?
Tighnari’s gaze tilts towards him. “Alhaitham?”
Alhaitham is still awkward even with decades of practice under his belt. Socializing is a chore. He likes Tighnari well enough, but he is here for Kaveh’s benefit. He comes because he’s expected to, and to keep Kaveh in check. “It wasn’t a fight,” he finally says.
Tighnari gives him a dry look, eyebrows drawn to nearly his hairline. “He threatened to pour the pitcher of wine all over you.”
Alhaitham snorts. “Probably a better use of it.”
Tighnari can’t help the short chuckle he lets loose. He dumps a handful of spices into the pot and stirs. “My point stands. Still, thanks for bringing him out here. It’s nice to share dinner once in a while somewhere other than a bar.”
He agrees. They’re older now, and while Kaveh doesn’t imbibe nearly as much as they had in their youth, he still has his occasional outings. Time shared with friends is limited to, usually, a few drinks once in a blue moon—which, to Alhaitham, is worse . Taverns are loud, stink, and have terrible coffee. He’d rather—
“What’re you thinking about?” Tighnari’s question cuts through his thoughts.
Before Alhaitham can answer, Kaveh sweeps past him to pour himself a fresh glass of wine. “I’ll tell you what—that he wants to go home.”
Partially true, but that isn’t a secret from anyone there. “I am enjoying myself.” Alhaitham reaches out to catch Kaveh’s wrist. “Also, you should drink water.”
Kaveh huffs. “I’ll drink what I want—”
“After a glass of water.”
Alhaitham’s request is ignored entirely as Kaveh shoots him a smirk and pours that glass of wine. But, as soon as the pitcher is set down, Kaveh pulls another glass from the cabinet and fills it at the tap. “Not because you told me to,” he makes sure to explain. Then, with both glasses, he heads back to the table for a second round of TCG with Cyno.
“See?” says Tighnari as he turns up the flame on the stove. “Like an old married couple.”
“He’s always done what he’s wanted—and he should. Kaveh is his own man.”
Tighnari hums as he pours liquor into the pan and sets it alight. A flame flares up, licking his face, and he tosses the food around as he cooks off the alcohol. “This isn’t an I told you so, type of observation, Alhaitham. You get him.”
Alhaitham quirks an eyebrow. “And?”
“That’s all. You get him. There isn’t anymore to it than that.” Tighnari tosses in a batch of freshly cut mushrooms to whatever he’s pan-frying. As it simmers, he finally meets Alhaitham’s face. “Look, I’ve known the two of you for a long time. It’s nice that you… have each other? I don’t have to worry about the both of you.”
“You mean Kaveh.”
“No, I mean the both of you.”
Strange. Alhaitham is no fool. He knows that Cyno and Tighnari care, but he’s always assumed this to be conditional of Kaveh’s friendship. Alhaitham looks at Kaveh again, who’s on his feet shouting mild obscenities. Cyno hides a grin behind his palm, watching with amusement as Kaveh takes his loss gracelessly.
“Kaveh is special. That’s all. He isn’t like anyone else.”
Tighnari stares right through him and Alhaitham squirms slightly under that all-knowing glance. “You can say that again.” A quick toss of his pan. “Have you ever told him that?”
No. Never. Alhaitham doesn’t need to, though. Kaveh is the smartest man that he knows, and it isn’t because he harks about it constantly. Kaveh’s intelligence is loud and obvious, etched right into the buildings that he’s brought to life. And Alhaitham enjoys that, walking through Sumeru City and seeing his touch everywhere, especially when he knows just what Kaveh goes through to create them.
Still.
Like an old married couple.
It wouldn’t be the first time that Alhaitham has thought it wouldn’t be so bad—marrying Kaveh. Convenient. It would make sense, and it’s not as if anyone else would put up with him. Over a decade they’ve lived with each other, over a decade of Kaveh promising he’d move out only for him to just bring more furniture in, or buy appliances, or cook dinner for the two of them on the regular.
They are close—closer to each other than anyone would ever have the right to be.
“Do you love him?” asks Tighnari quietly.
Ahaitham stills. No. Yes? No. But, then again, what is love? Alhaitham cannot imagine his mornings without Kaveh’s grousing, or their nights without his burning the midnight oil until the lamps are nearly down and Alhaitham has to drape a blanket over his shoulders after falling asleep at his desk. So, perhaps that is a type of love, but it doesn’t quite concern Alhaitham.
“It doesn’t matter,” he finally replies, clinging to that glass of wine in his hand like it’s a lifeline. “What was it that you said? We just… are.”
That’s all they have to be. There isn’t a need to muck it up.
Tighnari’s face softens and he nods. “Well, I suppose that’s easier.”
“Why?” asks Alhaitham, his face tipping up.
“I don’t have to threaten to kick your ass if you hurt him.”
Alhaitham laughs, a rare and honest sound. “Kaveh would be the first in line, I assure you.”
#
Later, after dinner, when Tighnari and Cyno are cleaning the kitchen and refilling the oil lanterns, Kaveh slips outside. Alhaitham follows like a silent shadow, tracing his footsteps out onto the wooden slats of Gandharva Ville’s walkways.
“Dinner was good,” says Kaveh, conversationally, rubbing at his stomach. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a proper meal.”
“Is that a complaint?” asks Alhaitham, leaning against a post.
“Me? Complain? Never.”
Alhaitham cracks a grin, hiding it behind his palm. Kaveh’s love language is complaining; it’s the only thing that he does, and it’s how he shows that he cares. A day where he doesn’t complain to Alhaitham about even the most minute things is an immediate red flag.
He’s relieved to see Kaveh in good spirits because lately he’s been so tired.
And, perhaps it’s age. They are busy working load after load and their responsibilities have grown over the years. There is little time for more than their daily tasks, a quick meal, and then passing out at the end of the night. Alhaitham thinks of Kaveh’s blueprints spread over his desk and the numerous mugs of coffee that litter it throughout the day.
“Hey, what’s with that look?”
Alhaitham didn’t realize he had a look. It’s the second time that he’s been asked that night but the weight of Kaveh’s stare is heavier than the one Tighnari tossed his way. The reason is simple: Kaveh is different. Special.
“I’m just thinking.”
“Oh? What a rare thing.”
“Kaveh.”
“Don’t strain a muscle—”
“Kaveh.”
Kaveh frowns. “You’re acting strange.”
Alhaitham is not. Alhaitham really is just thinking, but Kaveh knows him better than he knows himself. He reaches out and clasps his fingers around Alhaitham’s wrist. “Are you okay?” asks Kaveh, quieter, searching, concerned.
“Tighnari was talking about us.” Kaveh’s expression goes cat-eyed with curiosity, waiting for Alhaitham to further expand upon the thought. “Teased us about acting like an old married couple.”
Kaveh scoffs and lets go of his wrist. “He would say that, wouldn’t he?” A pause as he gives Alhaitham a side-along glance and a nudge to the ribs with his elbow. “Would you want that?”
“To marry you?”
A short laugh falls from Kaveh’s lips. “No.” Alhaitham is almost offended by his sharp tone. “I just meant marriage in general.” Another stretch of silence between them until Kaveh nudges Alhaitham’s ribs again. “But, if it were me? Just for curiosity’s sake.”
“The idea of marriage is not palatable with anyone other than you,” replies Alhaitham honestly. He owes Kaveh that, at least.
Kaveh’s face tilts towards him. “That was surprisingly…profound.”
“You would know if I lied. And, there is no reason to. Kaveh, you know that you are… special to me.”
“Hm, yes. Dreadful thing, isn’t it?”
Alhaitham snorts softly. Kaveh’s tone is gentle, affectionate even. There is a reason that he tolerates Alhaitham, and has continued to do so even after all these years. “Would you say yes? If I were to ask?” It is curiosity that piques him. Nothing would or will change, regardless of Kaveh’s answer.
Kaveh rubs his face. “I… wouldn’t say no. But, it would heavily depend on the taxes we would save.” An expected response from Kaveh, steeped so deeply in sarcasm that it may as well be tea. “But, I suppose that’s the dream of many, hm? Having a partner?”
“Is that what we are? Partners?” Alhaitham’s question comes easily.
And Kaveh’s answer does too. “Well, it’s not as though anyone else will put up with me.”
Surprisingly simple. Perhaps Tighnari was right. Alhaitham leans against that pole under the cloudless, starry night and thinks as he often does that these moments shared with Kaveh come effortlessly. It is not the same with others.
But Alhaitham knows he wouldn’t want it to be. This is where he’d rather be, and Kaveh is the only one he’d share them with. Kaveh is quiet. Alhaitham is quiet. It suits them. Another nudge against Alhaitham’s ribs when Tighnari calls them back inside.
They linger there instead and it is nice.