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"Kaveh, come on. Let's go home."
"No! I'm not drunk yet!"
Alhaitham sighs as he looks down at the blond mess of a man who looked very, clearly drunk, still clutching a glass of wine in his hand as if someone would take it away from him.
"Maybe we shouldn't have come to the tavern... I had invited him over to a private party specifically so that I could help control the amount of wine he consumed, but now," Tighnari starts, fingers supporting his forehead as he shook his head.
"Do you need assistance with this, Alhaitham?" Cyno chimes in, looking at the tall man who had his arms crossed in front of him. “I’m sure Kaveh must be a handful. After all, he makes pour decisions.”
Only Kaveh seems to snort at his pun, and Tighnari buries his face in his head further.
"No need, but thanks for the offer," Alhaitham says before Cyno could get an explanation in.
“I’ll be at the counter to pay, then,” Cyno says before going.
“I’m not that drunk… Tighnari, tell him,” Kaveh says, his arms slumped on the table.
“You are that drunk, Kaveh,” Tighnari says as he packs the TCG cards and dice scattered on the table. “I can smell you from here.”
“We’re at a tavern surrounded by alcohol, of course you’re going to smell it everywhere!” Kaveh says as his voice rises a little. He looks at his glass before narrowing his eyes at it, humming.
Tighnari shoots an unimpressed look at him, and he looks away nervously.
As soon as Kaveh buries his face back on the table, the forest ranger looks at Alhaitham, as if there was something he had to say in private.
“We’re all worried about him,” he starts, whispering so Kaveh doesn’t hear.
“He’s good at that - making you worry,” Alhaitham responds. “It’s like a hobby of his.”
Tighnari smiles at that, and Alhaitham can’t help but feel like his layers were being peeled away little by little by the shorter man. He was surely inquisitive - all four of them were - but the forest ranger especially seemed so entertained by it all, just as he would have an eagerness to study a creature that had caught his eye. The scribe wonders where that interest must have come from… but he suspects it has something to do with how often Kaveh hangs out with Collei’s caretakers.
“You’re so much gentler with him when he can’t see it, huh?” Tighnari finally says. It takes Alhaitham aback, making his eyes widen more than usual. The Amurta graduate no doubt notices this too, as well, but he doesn’t say anything else.
“The drinks have been paid for. Tighnari?” Cyno walks in as Tighnari straps the dedicated TCG bag around his shoulder, nodding as they prepare to leave.
“Alright, I think we’re all good here. You two be careful out there,” Tighnari says as Cyno walks ahead.
“You too. See ya.”
As soon as the two shorter men leave, Alhaitham already has Kaveh's arm slung over his shoulder, one arm around his waist. He steps outside the tavern looking ahead as he walks them both outside.
Alhaitham stops when they're at a clearing to rest, and to also readjust his hold on the man swaying and stumbling along even with his help. He looks at the house they both shared, not too far ahead. Then, with one swift motion, he lifts Kaveh in his arms, who giggles faintly into his shoulder.
"I must be so light to you, huh?" Kaveh slurs, both arms holding onto Alhaitham as he's carried closer to the house. "What are you gonna do if people see us?"
Alhaitham doesn't care about other people, so there's really nothing to do in that scenario. It's faster this way, and this was a rare occasion where he could even do something like this without so much as a protest.
"Hey. Hey, talk to me, you meanie," Kaveh says, his breath close enough that Alhaitham could smell the strong scent of alcohol. "Hey."
Alhaitham tightens his grip on him in response, giving into the urge to nuzzle into Kaveh's neck, and it effectively shuts the smaller man up.
"...I'm sleepy," Kaveh murmurs eventually.
"I know. We're here."
He puts him down for a moment when they finally reach the door to grab the keys, and Kaveh groans as he leans his forehead against Alhaitham's back.
"What's wrong?" Alhaitham asks, ignoring how warm it felt in his stomach to feel the older man's weight against him. That he felt casual enough to do that.
"Mm. My head is spinning," Kaveh murmurs, his eyes closed.
"That's because you drank a lot."
"That's because I got shitty clients! Who do they even think they are, demanding so many changes to my designs like that," Kaveh starts, his speech slow and slurry the longer it goes on. His arms flail around as he complains again, taking his head off Alhaitham's back to continue his tangent.
The door clicks open, and Alhaitham turns around to grab him gently by the waist, pulling him close.
"Come on," he simply says, tone uncharacteristically soft and caring.
Kaveh doesn't move from his position, just swaying slightly while he holds onto his junior for support, so said junior scoops up his legs again silently as he carries him into the living room.
"I graduated from Kshahrewar!"
"You did."
"I deserve some respect."
"Mhm."
He passes through the living room and opens Kaveh's room door with slight difficulty, what with the drunk man in his arms.
"I deserve to live... in a big house!" Kaveh raises his arms to be dramatic as he is lowered down onto his bed and tucked in.
"You don't like it here?" Alhaitham suddenly whispers, leaning forward to smooth over the blanket covering the architect's form.
His kaleidoscopic eyes flicker over to the man on the bed, who looks back with half-lidded crimson.
"I- I didn't say that," Kaveh breathes out, his lips parted, mesmerized in the moment. It was odd, how they could only find themselves so honest during times that could easily be forgotten in their sleep.
If they could afford to be vulnerable even in their waking moments, who knows how differently things could go. How powerful they could feel, how the reflection they saw each other through could be clearer.
"You look nice in this angle. Probably have a date right now if you weren't so weird," Kaveh slurs as he grins, barely able to form the sentence properly. They were both whispering softly now, their faces inches apart as they existed in their own little bubble.
Alhaitham dares to comb the intoxicated man's hair back, very gently, so they don't stick against his puffy face.
"And you?"
"Me?" Kaveh asks back in a hushed voice
"You interact with people all the time, more willingly than I do, but I don't think you're dating anyone."
Kaveh chuckles lightly, the side of his face squished against the soft pillow.
"I'm too much of a mess for that."
Alhaitham doesn't know whether to smile or frown. Kaveh was a mess, sure, but he was a good mess. The kind of mess a rationalist like Alhaitham could tolerate, even when he hated the trouble Kaveh invited for himself for being who he was. How much the realization rattled Alhaitham to his core: that even when he thought he could never bother with things he knew he couldn't fix, he could still stay by Kaveh's side forever like this; whether a mess or not. And he would do anything for him.
"You want me to date people?" He asks instead, going back to the initial conversation.
"...I don't."
Alhaitham's breath hitches.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't wanna be kicked out of the house yet."
Kaveh smiles innocently, pulling his blanket closer as sleep tugs stronger at him. Alhaitham sighs, closing his eyes before pulling away slightly.
"You can live here for as long as you want," the scribe softly says while the architect breathes rhythmically with his eyes closed.
Seconds tick by, and there is only silence.
"Kaveh," Alhaitham whispers after a while, watching closely.
The man in question sinks further into the sheets, his alcohol-ridden brain no doubt settling into sleep by now.
"I love you. I do. I have for a... a long while," he confesses, his voice small and restrained.
Kaveh barely stirs in his bed, and within the silence Alhaitham couldn't help but feel how stupid it was that he was doing this.
He very slowly moves closer to Kaveh's face, then stops, pretends to place a kiss on the man's forehead, and blushes.
Alhaitham had been used to this ritual for a while. It started a year ago when he had brought Kaveh home drunk just like this night, and the scribe had found himself lingering for far too long in the architect's bedroom just to stare at him in contemplation. Before he knew it, he'd started practicing his confessions to a drunk and sleepy Kaveh everytime he had the opportunity to carry him home.
In fact, he's been practicing the line since their Akademiya days. In the dead of night when he was absolutely sure no one could hear him, he'd look into a mirror and say the words. Practice them, over and over and over. He never really got the chance to say it to his senior as there was never a perfect time even when they were alone. Between that and going their separate ways before they could even finish their research together, there was never a golden opportunity. A precious, romantic silence where he could finally utter the words without feeling awkward about it.
"I love you. I always have."
Alhaitham doesn't deny that he'd of course been stalling himself. Why wouldn't he, when he was quite sure he'd stumble over the words if he ever got to say them? It would be a huge disappointment to a linguistic scholar like himself, being unable to say three simple words consisting of one syllable each. This was the reasoning he'd convinced himself to believe.
He regretted it, only knowing the right words to say at the expense of their friendship. Maybe it was because they had been both immature in the past that each honest word stung to his senior, words he'd said because he only cared about him.
And then as if the world was playing a prank on him, he found his senior again in a tavern, blond locks and red eyes as eye-catching as he could remember. Only he was now a debt-ridden, homeless mess. The Light of Kshahrewar, reduced to a flicker.
"Go ahead, laugh. You were right and you called it," the architect had told him then with spite, bent over two empty bottles of alcohol. It took everything in him not to unravel.
Alhaitham straightens up, his eyes still glued to the man on the bed. The man he'd fallen in love with, all those years ago. The one who completed the home he lived in.
With a face carefully neutral, he walks out of Kaveh's room. It would be a new day again, they'd fall back into their usual rhythm, and eventually he'll have the opportunity to practice. Just practice.