Work Text:
"alhaitham, what are we?"
the words dance on the tip of kaveh's tongue. he hovers by the entrance, fiddling with his hands as he contemplates walking over to the man currently plaguing his mind, pushing his book aside, taking off his headphones, grabbing him by the shoulders, then asking –
... he doesn't. of course, he doesn't. he couldn't. instead, he turns to the opposite direction and heads for the kitchen.
(kaveh is scared.)
kaveh considers cooking a mindless chore. his mind still wanders to this and that, but it all remains faint in the background as he goes through the familiar motions of cooking – preparing the ingredients, chopping the vegetables, cutting the meat, heating the pan.
this time, it is not.
the question rings loud in his head on repeat, and he has to pause every now and then as he mulls over such thoughts of his and alhaitham's relationship – how it had developed over the years, and the nature of it as they are today.
(kaveh sighs, putting down the knife. he sets it aside, puts his head in his hands. this is hopeless.)
see, years and years ago, on separate occasions, kaveh and alhaitham caught one troublesome disease caused by unrequited love. in kaveh's case, it happened when he was younger, craving the love and affection of a mother far too broken to be capable of it, no less towards a son who reminded her too much of what she had lost. there was no helping it – he went through with the surgery right before entering the akademiya, a little after his mother left for fontaine.
(he wonders what she's up to right now. he hopes she's living well.)
as for alhaitham... he rarely spoke about it and never in detail, and kaveh chooses not to probe.
...
hence, kaveh's current dilemma.
what are they?
"roommates" – too distant. "roommates" implies that they're just that – two people – strangers – who happen to share the same living space with each other. it hints at none of their deep history or the connection they've made, broken and mended throughout the years. none of their daily bickering, alhaitham's books messily stacked by the foot of kaveh's desk, kaveh's unfinished drafts by alhaitham's reading nook. none of breakfast on the table with a hastily written note from kaveh, a steaming cup of coffee late at night next to a dozing alhaitham on the divan.
then, "friends" perhaps? ... no, kaveh thinks. they've been through too much to simply be "friends". he remembers – kaveh had once firmly believed that he and alhaitham can never be friends again, having hurt each other so badly over the disaster that was their research project. this belief still holds true to this day, but for a whole other reason – "friends," kaveh has come to realize, is both too close and too distant to properly describe what their relationship has become.
(there is animosity too fiery in their daily interactions, and there is intimacy too deep hidden beneath their actions.)
"lovers" –
kaveh winces.
... it's not like either of them are capable of "loving" in the first place. after all, along with the flowers ripped from their chests was their ability to love, taken away as a rather cruel sacrifice in exchange for the convenience of the surgery.
it was devastating but necessary... or so he chooses to believe.
(and "love" scares kaveh.)
but then... what are they? where do they stand with each?
... what is it that they feel towards each other in the first place?
"kaveh."
kaveh jumps.
an arm wraps around his waist. alhaitham rests his chin on his shoulder, peeking over to glance at the uncut onion in front of him before tilting his head towards kaveh.
"where's dinner?"
a small flame ignites within kaveh's chest – as it always does when it comes to alhaitham. for one reason or another, he doesn't know. that infuriating man.
(he is fond.)
"can't you see i'm working on it?" kaveh snaps. "now leave me alone, you're just taking up space. i'll call you when it's time for dinner."
alhaitham doesn't budge. "it's already dinner time."
"what?"
"it's already dinner time." he answers pointedly.
"didn't you hear me –" kaveh catches sight of the window. the sky is getting darker – alhaitham's right. it is dinner time.
kaveh burns. "alright, alright, i'll –"
"what are you thinking, kaveh?"
he pauses.
kaveh could easily ignore the question, just as he had done countless times before. but alhaitham – both his hands are now on his waist. his palms are warm against him. he pulls him closer, and turns him so that they're facing each other.
alhaitham – his eyes has always been a cool shade of teal. it suits him well, suits his face, his expressions. kaveh can use a million words to describe them, and it wouldn't be enough.
(words are alhaitham's strong suit, ironically.)
alhaitham's eyes has always been a cool shade of teal, but his gaze is searing – hot and almost uncomfortable, exposing. kaveh notices his brows furrow ever so slightly. the red in his eyes glimmer, almost frighteningly. it makes kaveh want to run away and hide, yet at the same time, it draws him closer.
his mouth opens –
"alhaitham, what are we?"
– and just like that.
kaveh watches, with bated breath, as alhaitham contemplates, his hold still tight, as if he's scared he'll run away.
kaveh considers it. he almost wants to.
he doesn't. of course, he doesn't.
slowly, the other man replies, "what do you think we are, kaveh?"
the flame grows – he clicks his tongue, and he pushes against alhaitham's chest, "you can't answer a question with another question!"
"i just did."
kaveh groans, "you're insufferable! forget it, leave! so i can –"
"kaveh," alhaitham calls, voice achingly soft.
he tucks a stray strand behind his ear. "kaveh, tell me. what are you thinking about? tell me everything."
... and he does, all too easily.
perhaps, if this had been in the past, he wouldn't have given up so quickly, if at all.
perhaps... but he and alhaitham has been through far too much. so, he does. he tells him. everything.
alhaitham holds him the entire time. he listens intently.
kaveh breathes. then, he chuckles bitterly. "we can't even feel love, alhaitham. what is this, what are we? i don't know anymore. it scares me."
alhaitham is silent. he is thinking.
('does it matter?' kaveh can almost hear him say. 'you worry about rather pointless things, kaveh.')
he expects.
...
alhaitham never meets his expectations.
"gravitational attraction," he finally declares.
kaveh stares. "... what."
"gravitational attraction. it is the –"
"i know what gravitational attraction is." kaveh sighs, "alhaitham, be serious."
"i am serious." alhaitham cups his cheek, holds his other hand. "love, gravitational attraction. whatever it is, kaveh, i am drawn to you, and you are important to me."
the flame reaches his stomach – it's warm. it tickles.
he sighs, cheeks burning, and swats at alhaitham. "... i'll get dinner ready."
he doesn't see the look on alhaitham's face – very, very fond.
whatever it is, they are drawn to each other. kaveh to alhaitham, alhaitham to kaveh.