Work Text:
1
Kaveh stood in the doorway of what was now his new room, a bare foot shy of crossing the threshold. His head still hurt from the sea of wine he had plunged into last night. He was still waiting for the medicine Alhaitham had left on the nightstand to soothe him. And yet, even the light was too loud.
The note by his bed - or rather, Alhaitham’s bed, as everything in the room that wasn’t in his ageing rucksack belonged to him, and Kaveh was merely using it - stated that Alhaitham had left for work already. Kaveh thought that was odd, as Alhaitham had never been one to bother showing up to anything early, but a quick glance at the clock on the wall confirmed that it was actually almost noon. He’d feel bad about sleeping in so hard if everything else about him didn’t feel so awful.
But, it had to be said, sleeping in a real bed again felt good.
With Alhaitham at work, Kaveh felt a bit more comfortable exploring the house. He’d always pictured Alhaitham’s residence as being more akin to a library, barren of anything that could be described as homely. And while it was true that almost every room boasted an impressive collection of books, there were a few unexpected items lying around. Antique end tables were covered with finely woven doilies. Mismatched lamps wore shades with intricate designs sewn in. Several encyclopaedias were separated by strange statues on the shelves, ranging from ceramic sumpter beasts to wood-carved aranaras. If Kaveh didn’t recognise Alhaitham’s slanted handwriting on the note he’d left, he might think he’d wandered into an old person’s home and claimed their guest bedroom.
Alhaitham’s questionable taste in decor aside, there was a greater epidemic of unhoused books scattered across the place. On tables, in piles on the floor, and even the ones on the shelf were stuffed in haphazardly.
How Alhaitham lived like this, Kaveh didn’t know. But this called for him to intervene.
Kaveh gathered up every volume he could find and started sorting them by topic. The collection featured a wide range of subjects, from linguistics to poetics. There were even books outside of the expertise of Alhaitham’s Darshan, including a few aged volumes on textile making and some cookbooks that had gathered dust. Kaveh was surprised to find titles he recognised, all of which were well-known textbooks used by Kshahrawar scholars for decades. Did Alhaitham really read these?
Kaveh flipped through one such textbook, reminiscing on the time he had first read from these pages. He was so full of promise back then. Still a young man determined to follow in his mother’s footsteps, pushing himself to dazzle his professors with every new assignment he completed. He’d almost forgotten about that time. How fragile those memories of his youth could be without the people who used to remind him.
While Kaveh spent his days constructing palaces for clients, Alhaitham built monuments to memory. Every pile of books spanned generations of owners, if the names written on the inside covers were to be believed. There, neatly penned in a script similar to Alhaitham’s name below was another name. Aisha.
Alhaitham had barely spoken about his grandmother back when they were students, but Kaveh assumed that these textbooks must have been hers. Along with most of the other decor in the house.
As Kaveh went to slot the book into place on the shelf, something else slipped through the pages. A single piece of paper, small and heavier than most based on how it fell to the ground. When Kaveh stooped down to pick it up, the shiny texture immediately told him what this must have been. A photograph.
Curious, he flipped the photo around and stared at the image it held. Doused in sepia tones sat an old woman with a bat’s nest of light hair. Layers of shawls were draped over her shoulders, and aged hands lay folded on her lap. Next to her was a boy, standing but still not taller than his seated grandmother. One look at the embarrassing haircut and rounded cheeks was enough for Kaveh to recognise Alhaitham. He must have been less than ten years old in this photo, but when Kaveh met him in his teens, he had that same boyish face.
The giddy grin didn’t leave his face until he suddenly heard keys in the door. He looked up and tip-toed to the front entrance, where he saw Alhaitham closing the front door behind him.
“Oh, good.” Alhaitham dropped his cloak on the divan. “You’re awake.”
“And you’re…” Kaveh glanced uneasily at the clock. “Early?”
“Don’t get too excited. I dropped by on my lunch break to see how you’re doing. You were completely passed out when I left.” Alhaitham looked around, taking in the piles of books that were different from the piles of books he’d left behind that morning. “What are you doing?”
“Reorganising your bookshelf,” Kaveh said plainly. “I also found this!”
He showed Alhaitham the photograph. A blush blossomed on the scribe’s cheeks, and he yanked the photo out of Kaveh’s hand.
“Hey!”
“I see you’ve already started making yourself at home,” Alhaitham commented, slipping the photograph between the pages of another book.
“Don’t try to change the subject! I thought you looked quite cute in that picture. Just like when we were students! Whatever happened to that Alhaitham?”
Alhaitham smiled weakly. “He grew up. Oh, and I have something for you.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. Golden, and matching the silver one Alhaitham owned. He pressed the cool metal into Kaveh’s palm.
“So you can come and go as you please.”
Kaveh eyed the key in his hand, the gratitude getting stuck in his throat. He had been trying to distract himself from the insanely generous offer Alhaitham had made to let him stay here, and gestures like this did little to ease his guilt.
“You…” Kaveh searched for something, anything, to say to fill the silence. “You just had this on hand?”
Alhaitham shook his head. “I went to get a copy of my key made this morning. You might want to get a key chain for that. Wouldn’t want you losing it and not being able to make your way inside.”
Kaveh closed his fist around the key. He wanted to thank Alhaitham properly, but instead he said, “I want to pay rent while I’m here.”
Alhaitham blinked. “Okay.”
“And I’ll do my part in keeping the place tidy,” Kaveh added.
“Like reorganising my books?”
“Yeah. Like reorganising your books.”
“Alright.” Alhaitham sighed. “If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you. You can pay me rent on the last day of every month.”
Kaveh beamed. “Great. Uhh, I’ll… finish up with these books then. But if I find any more baby pictures of you, I’m framing them!”
As Alhaitham headed for the front door, Kaveh was sure he saw him smile.
2
“Why is your pantry so empty?” Kaveh asked a few days into his move.
Alhaitham shrugged from where he was sitting, shuffling through sheaves of papers. “I usually eat out.”
Kaveh bent over the divan to peek at what he was doing. The Akademiya seal was stamped onto each page. “Since when do you bring work home with you?”
“I don’t.” Alhaitham angled the page he was reading away from Kaveh’s line of sight. “And what I do in my free time isn’t any of your business.”
“Ugh, fine.” Kaveh stepped away and folded his arms across his chest. “But I think you should go buy groceries.”
“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you buy your own food?”
Kaveh pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t want us to be one of those households that eat separately and hide food from each other. Can’t we just share what we have?”
Alhaitham regarded him, and Kaveh stared back. There was a more selfish reason why Kaveh made the suggestion. One born from weeks without a clear plan for meals, in which he rationed the little Mora he had left for street food or picked unripe fruits from the trees on the outskirts of the city.
“Alright.” Alhaitham returned his attention to his papers. “The market is too loud, though. You can take my Mora and go buy what you need. Don’t spend all of it.”
Kaveh beamed. He snatched Alhaitham’s coin purse off the shelf where it sat and padded over to the door. “I won’t be long. Be ready for dinner at six!”
He returned with armfuls of fruits, vegetables, breads and meats. Alhaitham didn’t look like he had moved at all since Kaveh left, but that didn’t stop him from narrowing his eyes when Kaveh entered.
“Is that Fontaine bread? That looks expensive. I hope you didn’t splurge just because it wasn’t your Mora you were spending.”
“Oh, hush!” Kaveh dumped the groceries on the kitchen table, Alhaitham lingering nearby to inspect the contents.
“Lavender melons, too?” Alhaitham’s nose wrinkled. “You can have all of those.”
“No, I thought we could try them together.” Kaveh chucked the much lighter coin purse at Alhaitham, who caught it with one hand. “And see? I didn’t spend everything.”
“Hmm.” Alhaitham weighed the bag in his hand, gauging the difference. “Remind me next time to give you a budget. And a shopping list.”
“Are you going to stand there and criticise me, or are you going to help with dinner?”
“What are you making?” Alhaitham’s eagle eyes scanned the ingredients curiously.
“Soup!”
Alhaitham made a face. “I’ll pass.”
“No, you won’t. Now shoo!” Kaveh waved a hand at him. “Let the artist work.”
Dinner went smoother than expected. The cooking part, at least. When it came to serving the end result, Alhaitham still seemed sceptical.
“What is this?” He eyed the creamy substance in his bowl and the crispy bread that Kaveh had buttered and arranged on a side plate for each of them. He had almost retreated to his room for dinner, but Kaveh had sat him down in the living room, insisting that they eat their meals together.
“It’s a mushroom soup recipe I’ve been meaning to try.” Kaveh sat down beside him and dipped his bread into the soup. “My mother served me something similar the last time I visited. It’s a Fontaine dish that she wanted to give a Sumeru spin.”
“I don’t see the Sumeru in this.” Alhaitham poked the soup’s filmy skin with his spoon.
“Give it a try. Then you’ll see.”
Alhaitham glared at his bowl with suspicion. Gingerly, he dipped his spoon in just enough to break the surface and scoop up a minuscule amount. He brought it to his mouth and hesitantly gave the spoon a lick. Paused. And looked back up at Kaveh.
“Rukkashava mushrooms,” he concluded.
Kaveh nodded, smiling to himself. “Eat up, then. Before it gets cold.”
While Kaveh eagerly dug into his own bowl, Alhaitham awkwardly tried to balance his on his knee. When that proved too precarious, he opted for his lap. And then crossed his legs, still hovering his bowl indecisively while he weighed the pros and cons of this new position. After about a minute of watching this play out, Kaveh intervened.
“What are you doing?”
Alhaitham frowned down at his lap. “Looking for a place to rest my bowl.”
“Why?”
“To free my hands to read.”
Unbelievable! “Have you tried not reading while you eat?”
“No, thanks.”
Kaveh heaved an exasperated sigh. “Here.” He grabbed a pillow from the divan and tossed it in Alhaitham’s direction. “Use this.”
Alhaitham settled the pillow in his lap and pressed the bowl into its plush surface. Once he was satisfied it wouldn’t fall over, he nodded. “Thank you.” He paused. “Next time, don’t make soup.”
“Too late.” Kaveh bit into his bread. “I made a big pot of the stuff. This will be our dinner for the next week.”
Alhaitham groaned.
Kaveh washed up afterwards. Miraculously, Alhaitham had cleared his bowl. He might have finished his dinner sooner if he hadn’t put up such a fuss, Kaveh thought.
As he packed away dry dishes, Kaveh took a look around. While there was significant space dedicated to books and personal items, most of the crockery and cookware were crammed into one cupboard. Interesting priorities, he noted. Apparently, accumulating junk was more important than keeping the pantry stocked.
Nevertheless, Kaveh took it upon himself to repack the kitchen cupboard. Alhaitham could thank him later.
Later that night, while Kaveh burned the midnight oil on some drafts he’d been putting off finishing for a rather picky client, Kaveh heard several clanks coming from the kitchen. His room was quite some distance from the kitchen, and with the door closed he shouldn’t have been able to pick up on so much movement. Unless Alhaitham was purposefully trying to get his attention.
A trip to the kitchen confirmed his suspicions. Alhaitham was loudly pulling plates out of the cupboard and shuffling them around.
“Alhaitham? Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”
His roommate huffed. “You packed the dishes incorrectly. Now they don’t make any sense.”
Speaking of picky clients.
“It’s not like I had much to work with, given how little storage space your kitchen has.”
“Hmph. The way you packed it, I’d need a bigger house.”
I could say the same about your stash of junk.
Kaveh rubbed his eyes. It was too late to argue. He was just starting to get used to having something resembling a good night’s sleep, and the only thing he would let interfere with that was pressing work. Not petty squabbles with someone who used to be his friend.
“What about a bigger cabinet?” Kaveh sighed. “We’ll need to buy more plates and cups anyway if it’s going to be the two of us living here.”
Alhaitham almost smirked. “You’re getting used to spending my Mora, hm?”
“No!” Kaveh’s face burned. He hated not having the Mora to pay for their needs, but he hadn’t even been living there a week yet, and he could only take so many commissions at a time. “Look, I’ll… I’ll pay you back at the end of the month when I give you my rent. Or as soon as this client pays me, if I have anything left over after paying my debts.”
“No need.” Alhaitham slid a tower of stacked bowls into place and closed the cupboard door. “We can go pick one out tomorrow if you’re so adamant about it.”
Kaveh’s mouth fell open. “Wait, really?”
“You said it yourself. We’ll be needing more dishes, especially if you still insist on making dinner every night.”
Plans for the future. That didn’t mean anything, right? Only that they were being good roommates. Good, cooperative and well-communicating roommates.
They eventually settled on a kitchen cabinet - an antique thing that fit right in with every other old thing in Alhaitham’s house. Kaveh was quite chuffed with the find. Alhaitham looked unmoved by his new purchase.
“It’s missing a doorknob,” he pointed out after they had already moved it into the kitchen.
“Then we’ll get them redone.” Kaveh patted the dark wood. “Just imagine how many coffee cups we could fit in here.”
Alhaitham scoffed. “And you’ll be washing all those new cups you made me buy.”
“Nuh-uh! You agreed that we needed it!”
“I also agreed to pay for everything, while you agreed to keep the house tidy.” Alhaitham flashed him a mischievous smirk. “Is that not fair?”
“You-!” Kaveh fumed. “Fine, but you better eat the rest of the soup I give you!”
“I can’t complain with that.”
The days following saw twin mugs and a pair of bowls on the drying rack, dripping in unison.
3
“I have a meeting with the Sages,” Alhaitham said over breakfast and the page of his book.
Kaveh sat up straighter in his seat. “Today? I wonder what they want. It’s not anything important, is it?”
Alhaitham shrugged. “It’s a standard meeting that gets called at least once a month so that everyone can talk about their jobs instead of actually doing them. Typical beurocratic nonsense, but it makes for a good time killer while I’m on the clock.” He paused, as if remembering an important detail. “And sometimes Lesser Lord Kusanali attends.”
The only typical thing Kaveh saw was Alhaitham’s attitude. “Trust you to be so nonchalant about a gathering of the most powerful people in the Akademiya. In all of Sumeru, even!” Kaveh gestured wildly to illustrate his point, dropping his spoon in the process. “Ugh, can’t you at least act like you care about authority?”
“I never said I didn’t care.” Alhaitham’s voice was light and his eyes flicked off the page in front of him to observe Kaveh retrieving his spoon. The bastard was teasing him! “You’re putting words in my mouth. I’m wounded, senior.”
Kaveh laughed without humour. The only times Alhaitham bothered calling him senior was when he deliberately wanted to point out how absurd he thought such social hierarchies were. That’s how it’s always been, ever since they both graduated.
“Please, as if I could ever say anything that would hurt the likes of you!”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the realisation of what he said hit him. Such a comment said in jest may have gone unnoticed if it were anyone else. But with their history… Kaveh’s mouth was dry and his tongue shrivelled up as if to keep him from ever uttering such a thing again. Alhaitham didn’t say anything either. But knowing eyes bore deep into him every time they darted up from the paragraph he was no longer reading.
I wish I’d never met you. Kaveh could still hear those words in his own voice, younger but still unrecognizably him.
He cleared his throat, hoping to cough out any of the discomfort that polluted the air. The awkwardness subsided, but his guilt remained.
“Anyway.” He lowered his gaze to his breakfast, pretending to be deeply invested in scooping the yoghurt onto his spoon. “Since you’re meeting with all the big shots, any chance you could suggest the possibility of increasing Ksharewar’s budget?”
Kaveh didn’t need to look up to know about the smile that tugged at the corner of Alhaitham’s lips. “Sure. Do you want me to cite annoying roommate as the reason for my request?”
“You know what, forget it!” Kaveh’s cheeks were turning red at even the thought of Alhaitham telling the Dendro Archon that the Light of Ksharewar was living with him. “I’ll just file another request next week.”
Alhaitham reached over to steal a piece of harra fruit from Kaveh’s plate. Before he could protest, Alhaitham was already getting up and putting on his cape.
“In that case, I can toss out the other dozen requests you’ve put in that I haven’t gotten to yet.” He dropped his dishes in the sink, knowing that Kaveh would get to them later after being sure to complain about it.
“You’re leaving?” Kaveh asked, even as he watched Alhaitham approach the door and start slipping on his boots. “Dressed like that? ”
“How would you prefer I dress?”
“I don’t know, something more appropriate for an important workplace meeting!”
“Alright, but I doubt my old Akademiya student uniform will still fit.”
“Ugh, just hold on!”
Kaveh marched on over from his seat and took the fabric of Alhaitham’s cape in his hands, pulling it over his shoulder and smoothing out any wrinkles he saw.
“At least wear this thing correctly,” he mumbled.
Alhaitham didn’t comment, merely watching while Kaveh adjusted his cape and dusted bits of lint out of the teal fabric. Skilled hands pulled on his clothes and ran over his shoulders. He could feel the callouses through his skin-tight shirt, as well as the added warmth of another person’s body when busy palms brushed over gaps of exposed skin. He almost didn’t breathe, so hypnotised by witnessing Kaveh work and afraid he might scare him off.
A tug on his collar here and a sweep over layers of accessories there. Kaveh finished by carefully readjusting the cord of Alhaitham’s headphones, making sure it was tucked neatly under his clothes so as not to catch on anything while he was out. Smoothing the cable, Kaveh followed its path up to the earpiece on the side of Alhaitham’s head, carmine eyes lifting to meet a complimentary pair.
Kaveh didn’t utter a word. Maybe he was also too entranced to breathe. Maybe they both feared that their voices might shatter this fragile moment they shared.
He brushed silver hair away from Alhaitham’s face and tucked it behind the headphones. Stubbornly, the locks fell back and partially obscured one teal and red pupil from view.
Kaveh’s lips parted in a disappointed sigh. “Worth a shot.”
As if a spell had been lifted, they both broke away. Kaveh shifted awkwardly near the door while Alhaitham’s attention dove into the bowl that stored his keys, grateful that his headphones hid how red his ears were.
“Um… Good luck with your meeting?” Kaveh wasn’t faring much better, the dustings of rose on his cheeks illuminated by the stained glass on the front door.
Alhaitham couldn’t process what he was seeing, or what had just happened. He only nodded and, like a fool, walked out the door without saying anything. But words wouldn’t suffice anyway. Not a single one from the dozens of languages he spoke. He was quickly learning that the best way for them to mend their broken relationship was through actions.
After all, things said in the heat of the moment had only hurt them both before.
4
Spring in Sumeru brought blooming padisarahs to the patches of grass on Treasure’s Street, and sweeter fruit filling the baskets of vendors at the Grand Bazaar. Birds nested and thrived in the branches of the Divine Tree, so much so that if a scholar stepped out of any doorway of the Akademiya they would be greeted by singing and chirping from all directions.
In the household Kaveh had started to consider his home, spring meant it was time to get serious about making the place feel like one.
It had been almost a year since Alhaitham took him in. Their shared spaces were littered with the evidence of their cohabitation. Persian rugs that Kaveh had forked out a few Mora for decorated the floors he regularly swept. The bookshelves were overflowing with newly purchased texts on ancient architecture slotted between obtuse volumes written in foreign scripts. The paintings were Kaveh’s, and the poor choice of wallpaper they hung from was Alhaitham’s. If either of them ever had any visitors, they wouldn’t need to do much sleuthing to figure out what belonged to whom.
Kaveh liked having possessions again. He had sold most of what he owned when he first got in trouble with his debt. The longer he stayed with Alhaitham, the more comfortable he got with buying small items that he could call his again.
But a year into this newfound stability, Kaveh started to get antsy. After all, the longer he stayed with Alhaitham, the more of a burden he would prove to be. Even if he was paying rent and keeping the place tidy, one word from Alhaitham could have Kaveh back on the streets. And what would he do with all these pointless possessions then?
The worst-case scenario lingered in his mind while he sorted through his belongings. He could keep the small jewellery, but did he really need this many pairs of shoes? Or this umbrella that he never remembered to bring out with him? He tossed both in a box labelled DONATE and carried on with his ruthless purging of items he once found joy in purchasing.
As the box swelled with contents, Kaveh paused on a familiar set of fabric. A brand new Fontaine-style suit sat in his lap, decorated with flecks of red and white on the cream-coloured cotton. He had bought it not for any event in particular, but as a reminder to make the trip to Fontaine once he was back on his feet. The suit was nothing like the one he had worn to his mother’s wedding. He had sold that with the home they once had shared, and almost everything inside it.
Kaveh ran his fingers over the embroidered collar. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to Fontaine. He hadn’t even written his reply to the letter his mother had sent weeks ago. He couldn’t face her while his life was still a mess. And not even this suit could hide his shame.
He tossed the bundle of fabric into the box.
Clearing his room of useless junk went by quicker than expected. Once everything was out of sight and sealed in a box or two, it was almost like they didn’t exist. Kaveh couldn’t miss what he couldn’t remember, after all.
With most of his own room tidied, Kaveh moved on to other parts of the house. Alhaitham’s bedroom was off-limits, but Kaveh had caught a few peaks of the space before. It was a mess, with books piled up on the floor and papers covering every other surface. No wonder Alhaitham regularly chose to read in the living room. Kaveh didn’t know how he could think in such filth, let alone fall asleep in there.
Alhaitham’s desk in their shared office space wasn’t much better. Sometimes, Kaveh used his desk when the smaller table by the window proved not big enough for his plans, or if he had placed a newly built model there to dry. Alhaitham’s workspace was rife with fruit peels he hadn’t cleaned up, and endless piles of paper that were haphazardly stuffed into his drawers. His bedroom may have been off-limits, but since Kaveh shared this space with him, he figured it was fair game to clear out some of the trash that had been accumulating.
Dust particles danced in the late afternoon sun that beamed through the window. Sorting through Alhaitham’s endless papers was a tedious task that took up most of the day. Between scraps of shorthand and memos that had been crumbled up, Kaveh found academic papers that were dated over a decade ago. Why did Alhaitham still have stuff like this? It was mostly assignments and essays he’d written as a student, with snarky commentary pencilled in the margins.
No sign of their joint thesis, though. They both had thrown out that bitter reminder long ago, leaving only a few torn pieces stuck to the pages of Kaveh’s oldest sketchbook.
Kaveh flipped through one essay. The date on the front page confirmed that this was written before they had met, in the early days of Alhaitham’s first year of study. It looked like this paper had been moderated by two different people, based on the different styles of writing and penmanship. One of the comments read, “Lovely thesis argument and evidence given, but please remember to stick to the structure required of your syllabus.” None of the feedback Kaveh had received during his time at the Akademiya had been so kind, but maybe Haravatat professors were more lenient. Kaveh chucked the essay into a pile with the others, not noticing that the handwriting in the margins was familiarly similar to Alhaitham’s.
When quarter past five finally rolled around, Kaveh was stretched out on the divan with a glass of wine as a treat. Alhaitham raised an eyebrow at him when he entered, not used to seeing his roommate this relaxed on a weekday.
“Took advantage of your day off, I see.” He pulled off his boots and padded over to the bookshelf to exchange the paperback in his hand for one on the shelf.
“Actually, I took the liberty of doing some spring cleaning while you were gone.” Kaveh beamed with pride. “And you’ll be happy to know that I finally cleaned out that junk drawer in your desk.”
Alhaitham froze. “You did what?”
Even from where Kaveh sat, he could sense the unease in Alhaitham’s voice. “I… cleaned your desk for you.”
Alhaitham didn’t bother replying. Actions spoke louder than words, as they’d both realised. He marched into the office to check the consequences of Kaveh’s actions.
Footsteps. The creaking of the door. Footsteps. Scraping of wood from the drawer sliding out. The shuffling of papers, the sound emptier than it would have been merely a few hours ago. Silence. Icy regret frosted over Kaveh’s skin as he realised what a huge mistake he’d made. This was it. This would be the dreaded day he’d have to leave, if only to hide his shame.
He heard the drawer shut closed and feet on hardwood padded back to the living room. At least the floors were clean.
“Where is it?” Alhaitham wasted no time in his interrogation. “What did you do with the contents of that drawer?”
“I-I already threw it out.” Kaveh shifted in his seat. “Was there… something important I didn’t notice?
“Everything in there was important,” Alhaitham snapped. “Kaveh, I tolerated you repacking my stuff if it made you happy, but this is overstepping. You can’t just throw away things that don’t belong to you.”
“Oh, you tolerated me? I thought I was helping!” Kaveh lifted his hands in surrender, almost spilling his wine in the process. “How was I supposed to know what’s important and what isn’t to you? Half the stuff in there was either crumbled up to-do lists or homework from years ago. Any sane person would assume it was trash unless you kept it somewhere safe.”
“That drawer was supposed to be the somewhere safe.”
“Then what about your room! It looks like an archive already. Why not add more to the mess?”
“Don’t.” Alhaitham’s jaw stiffened. He averted his gaze and took several deep breaths. Kaveh hadn’t seen him look this hurt since… Since their thesis.
“Not everyone is ashamed of their past, Kaveh.” Alhaitham uttered his name, but didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, the more trustworthy of the two. “Some of us hold on to memories, because… because they’re all we have left.”
“I…” Kaveh’s tongue felt useless. Nothing he could say would make this better. “Haitham, I… I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know.”
“Yeah.” Alhaitham’s voice was low. Defeated. Wounded. “Well… I wish you had.”
He turned and locked himself in his room, leaving Kaveh in a spotless living room. The only piece of filth that needed to be thrown out was him.
5
New commissions kept pouring in for the Light of Kshahrawar. Kaveh couldn’t refuse a single one, as each new project brought him closer to paying off his debts, helped him make rent on time, and paid for a few drinks at the tavern every week. While riding the high of a new project or a particularly strong glass of wine, Kaveh even entertained the thought of building himself a house and one day moving out.
It wasn’t that he hated living with Alhaitham. Although, things were sometimes still quite tense between them. Rather, Kaveh couldn’t stand the idea of continuing to be a burden to the one person who took him in when he was down on his luck. So, when opportunities to travel to the desert for work came around, Kaveh grabbed them with both hands. It would be good if they stayed apart for a while.
That was how Kaveh found himself on an extended trip to the desert, working onsite with builders and the client to ensure that the project ran smoothly. He did quality inspections on the materials they sourced and triple-checked every measurement, down to the last millimetre. Only when the momentum started to pick up and the builders had assured him that they had everything handled, did Kaveh agree to go back to Sumeru City. He made a mental checklist of tasks he still needed to do, including swinging by Ghandarva Ville to ask Tighnari for advice on what desert plants to include once landscaping began. And tomorrow he could visit the House of Daena to read up on anything else he might need. He was on a roll!
Inevitably, he had to go home first. He hoped things wouldn’t be too awkward with Alhaitham after so many days apart. Kaveh had even missed him during his time away, but he would never admit that to anyone who asked.
The house was quiet when he entered. Alhaitham’s shoes and keys were by the door, so he certainly was home. Not that Kaveh was expecting a fanfare at his arrival, but some acknowledgement would be nice.
“I’m home,” he called, slipping out of his shoes and back into his usual routine. He checked the kitchen for coffee and found only a mountain of dishes piled in the sink.
“Ugh, couldn’t you do any dishes while I was gone? I’m not your maid, you know!”
His voice echoed through the silent walls. No response came.
Odd. Usually, Alhaitham would have some wisecrack by now.
It wasn’t that late in the evening, so Alhaitham likely wouldn’t be asleep yet. Even so, he might be taking a nap, or reading with his noise cancellation turned on.
Kaveh knocked on his bedroom door but got no answer. Light from a lamp spilt through the crack by the floor.
“Haitham.” Kaveh took a breath. “I’m coming in now. I need to know what you want for dinner.”
He turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The window was covered, blocking out any sunlight that still remained in favour of the artificial haze from the lamp. Books and papers still littered the floor, now joined by plates, bowls and cups all stacked on top of one another. And just as crumbled up in a pile on the bed was Alhaitham, who was gazing into a book in semi-darkness, his staring eyes betraying the fact that he wasn’t really reading. He had his headphones on, and he flinched when he noticed Kaveh enter the room, confirming that he had the noise cancellation on.
“Oh.” Alhaitham flipped a switch on his earpiece and blinked the new source of light out of his eyes. “You’re back.”
Kaveh folded his arms. “Exactly when were you planning on cleaning up after yourself?”
“I was.” Alhaitham sat up. “Eventually.”
“And yet…?”
He sighed and pinched his brow. “I wanted to. Before you got back.”
“Haitham.” Kaveh took a step closer, carefully weaving between the dirty dishes like a minefield. His nose wrinkled, and he noticed bits of mould making their home in the dregs of a coffee cup.
He recognised this behaviour from when they were cohabiting in this very house over a decade ago. When it was still a research facility, and they used every waking hour not in class working on their joint thesis. Back then, Alhaitham had days where, no matter how interesting the work was or how much he knew it needed to get done, he couldn’t bring himself to do much. Even reading became a chore, and he neglected his physical needs if Kaveh didn’t remind him to stick to his usual routine. It looked like Kaveh’s absence this past fortnight had him slipping back into old habits. And the longer he spent ignoring his routine or putting off pressing tasks, the bigger they seemed to get.
“I’m going to run you a bath,” Kaveh decided. He pulled the curtain from the window, letting the sunset bid Alhaitham a good night. “By the time the tub is filled, can you have brought all these dishes to the kitchen?”
A task, and a ticking clock. One that was low stakes and came with the promise of assistance. Kaveh had long since learned how to help his friend in these scenarios, and even he was surprised that the instructions came back to him so effortlessly after all these years.
Rather than stand around and force Alhaitham to get up, Kaveh strode out of the room and started on that bath. Even through the stream of water echoing over the tiles, he could hear the occasional clink coming from outside with each group of dishes Alhaitham vacated from his room. A smile pulled on Kaveh’s lips. He added bubbles and sweet-smelling salts to the water, hoping the novelty would make the bath more enticing.
By the time Kaveh closed the tap, Alhaitham was lingering in the bathroom doorway. Shame wasn’t a look that Alhaitham knew how to wear, yet it showed on his face anyway. In better light, Kaveh could see the deep set of his eyes. He looked tired.
Kaveh brushed the hair from Alhaitham’s face. The gesture was familiar by now, but the way the strands stayed behind Alhaitham’s ear wasn’t.
“You need a haircut.” Kaveh smiled softly. “Doesn’t the longer hair bother you?”
Alhaitham nodded. His head tilted to rest his cheek in Kaveh’s palm. Light stubble tickled his skin.
“You can borrow my hair clips for now,” Kaveh suggested. “They’re on my dresser if you need them. I’ll get started on dinner in the meantime.”
Kaveh broke away, giving Alhaitham some privacy as he gently closed the bathroom door behind him. He heard the quiet splashing of water from the other side, signalling that Alhaitham was checking the temperature of the water. Not too hot, Kaveh had ensured. But warm enough for him to soak in for a while, with a book within his reach.
All the pots in the kitchen were still clean and right where Kaveh had left them in the cupboards, confirming that Alhaitham had only been eating meals that didn’t require much preparation. Makes my job a little easier, Kaveh thought, turning on the stove and checking their pantry for ingredients. Alhaitham would like a meat stew, right?
While the stew simmered in the pot, Kaveh tackled the unwashed dishes. He heard the bathroom door open, followed by footsteps to another closed door. The smell of bath salts and Alhaitham’s aftershave was carried out with the steam.
Kaveh was scooping the stew out into two bowls when he jumped at the sight of Alhaitham entering the kitchen.
“Put a shirt on!” Kaveh averted his eyes, almost dropping his dishing spoon in the process.
Alhaitham shrugged and inspected the Zaytan peaches in the fruit bowl. Without the person who usually ate them around, a few had become bruised and wrinkled.
“I couldn’t find a clean sleep shirt,” he admitted, picking out the bad fruits from the ones that still looked edible. “I’ll do the washing tomorrow. You can give me any dirty clothes you have from your trip.”
“You never do the laundry,” Kaveh observed.
“And you never rest after your travels.”
Fondness filled Kaveh’s face. He took in the picture before him. Alhaitham’s hair was still damp, a few droplets dripping from his neck and falling down the steep slope of his shoulders. He wore loose sleep pants that Kaveh recognised as his own, but didn’t comment on it. Though, if Alhaitham went to all the trouble of stealing clothes from Kaveh’s wardrobe, he could have at least had the decency to take a shirt, too. Kaveh had a hard time focusing when the man’s broad chest and toned abdomen were on display.
Not wanting to stare for too long, Kaveh’s eyes drifted back upwards and found something else to anchor to. The red hair clips he wore every day held back Alhaitham’s bangs, crisscrossed in a style imitating his own. Something about seeing Alhaitham wear what was his felt right.
“Hmmm… I almost miss your stubble,” Kaveh said eventually.
Alhaitham scowled. “Well, keep missing it, because I’m not going to let it grow out purposefully. It’s annoying.”
“You’re annoying,” Kaveh snapped back. He rolled his eyes, and offered Alhaitham a bowl piled high with the best pieces of meat he could fish out of the broth.
Alhaitham accepted it, eyes flicking between the food, the clean kitchen, and Kaveh. The words he most wanted to say felt worthless compared to everything Kaveh had done for him. He could only settle on two.
“Thank you.”
Kaveh didn’t need to hear more to know that it was for everything. That much showed on Alhaitham’s face.
“No problem.” Kaveh put on a smile. “Anything for my cute junior,” he added, reaching over to flick his cowlick.
Alhaitham tried to hide his smile as he took a seat, bowl in hand. But his traitorous lips and burning cheeks revealed exactly how he felt.
“Yes, I’m completely lost without you here, senior.” He hoped the sarcasm in his voice would be enough to distract from his bashful expression. Kaveh was always quick to pick up on sarcasm, especially when it was from Alhaitham. It was like he was on the lookout for it.
A smile showed on Kaveh’s face, but his uneasy hands wrung a dishcloth between them. “Good for me, then. That means you’ll have less of a reason to throw me out.”
The heat in Alhaitham’s body was suddenly extinguished, doused in a frostbitten chill. He turned to look at Kaveh, who was still standing in the kitchen, not yet having claimed his own bowl. One that Alhaitham was just now noticing had a much smaller serving than his own.
“Why would I ever throw you out?” Alhaitham didn’t pretend to know what went on in Kaveh’s mind. But somewhere along the way, he had neglected to ask.
“Oh, you know.” Kaveh’s laugh was hollow. “For being an annoying roommate. Being too loud, or too bold. Maybe you’d find someone else to take care of you. Or, I don’t know, maybe I will move out and finally build myself a mansion!”
Was this what Kaveh regularly worried about? Alhaitham couldn’t think of any time when he had threatened to kick Kaveh out. Any time the topic of leaving was brought up, it was always by Kaveh when he boasted about being on track to paying his debts and moving away. Alhaitham didn’t have a say in where Kaveh chose to go. That was entirely Kaveh’s decision. But he selfishly hoped a time would come where Kaveh would choose him, and the life they had started to build together.
“I’m not going to ask you to leave,” Alhaitham said plainly. His grip on his spoon made his fingers feel numb. “You’re welcome to this house just as much as I am. It was once yours, too.”
The aging furniture next to newer ones that Alhaitham had bought and Kaveh had restored. Mismatched books weighing down shelves that sat over sagging floorboards. Their cloaks that hung side by side in the entranceway, complimented by the pairs of shoes and keys that would tell anyone who entered that two people lived here. Even if Alhaitham’s name was the only one on the lease, and Kaveh had long since given up the rights to any ownership when this place was still a research centre, Alhaitham hoped that Kaveh could still see this as his home.
Kaveh stood still. He seemed to turn Alhaitham’s words over in his mind, struggling to connect them to any preconceived ideas he had. Of Alhaitham, and of the nature of their current relationship.
Alhaitham took a breath. There was a lot he’d been putting off until now. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep ignoring things before they consumed him entirely. For now, he took another step that seemed so much bigger before he climbed it.
“Come, sit. Won’t you sit with me while we eat?”
Like a switch had been flipped, Kaveh lifted his bowl and made his way over, sinking into a seat opposite Alhaitham. They ate in silence, perhaps both of them drained from the day. When dinner was done and nothing had been wasted, Kaveh washed the dishes while Alhaitham tried to read. It was something resembling the routine they’d settled into for months, a routine that it hurt Alhaitham to break.
If Kaveh really did want to leave, where would that leave Alhaitham? In an empty house, stripped of everything that made it a home. Wishing he never had a taste of such domesticity, while silently hoping he could find it again. With Kaveh.
Whatever Kaveh chose to do with his own future, Alhaitham held onto hope. His own future plans were stashed away in his bedroom, amongst relics of the past, in the form of a box that held a sum of Mora that grew every month with Kaveh’s rent payments. A fund that Alhaitham didn’t dare tell Kaveh about, at least not until they both were ready to spend it. Together.
+ 1
Lambad’s tavern was loud enough that Kaveh didn’t need to hear his thoughts. Or think at all. He took his usual seat without any need for choice, and he was enough of a regular that Lambad already knew what his order would be. And the next order. And the next one.
Several rounds in, the enclosed space was filled with bodies eating and drinking to their heart’s content. It was this time, when Lambad’s was at its busiest, that Kaveh could let himself truly unwind. No room for doubt, and a cup was always within his reach to keep him from slipping into overthinking. It was an environment perfect for poor choices, which was why Kaveh had started using the first hour or so of inebriation to scribble down new, bold ideas. Whether in his sketchbook, on the nights he remembered to bring it, or on the napkins he “borrowed” from the bar, Kaveh could let loose with creativity. The manic brainstorming didn’t last long before he was too drunk to properly hold a pen, but it was a helpful hack he had discovered to let his imagination run wild. Alcohol had always made him feel like anything was possible, right up until even the wine he so loved betrayed him and sent him into a depressive spiral. But as with any love affair, wasn’t such a gamble worth it, in the end?
Yeah. Helping with his creativity. That’s how he justified coming here several times a week.
Nights like these were becoming more frequent, and the sight of the Light of Kshahrawar passed out at a table on his own was becoming a more common occurrence. As was the Scribe showing up in the middle of the night to drag him home.
“Kaveh.” A gloved hand ghosted over his back, feather-light so as to not startle him. Kaveh wasn’t surprised by the touch. He had been expecting it, waiting on Alhaitham’s arrival as the night grew colder and quieter, and the buzz of his thoughts slowly returned to their usual volume.
“Kaveh,” he repeated. His friend lay crumbled on the table, several surrounding pieces of tissue paper imitating him. Alhaitham brushed his knuckles over Kaveh’s ear, feeling the hot flush still lingering from the empty cup before him. “It’s time to go.”
A groan came from Kaveh’s throat, burning with regret and ethanol. “I wasn’t finished.”
“With your masterpieces?” Alhaitham gestured to the napkins, a sly smile playing on his lips. “They look more like trash to me.”
Kaveh winced and slowly started to sit up. “Very funny.”
Alhaitham helped him out of the chair, his stomach sinking as he felt Kaveh convulse with a wave of nausea. He’d considered asking Lambad to start cutting Kaveh off at the first signs of drunkenness, but decided against it because he figured even that was Kaveh’s decision to make. However, if Kaveh continued to drink himself sick, Alhaitham may have to take matters into his own hands.
“Outside,” he promised, hastily stuffing the doodle napkins into his pocket. As much as he teased, he made sure to collect Kaveh’s drunken scribblings for him each night. They were as much of a staple on Kaveh’s nightstand the morning after as a glass of water and a headache remedy were.
With every drawing secured, Alhaitham hurried Kaveh outside. They were barely steps out of the tavern when Kaveh suddenly turned and hurled into a bush. Alhaitham helped him keep his balance as he stayed doubled over, retching in the quiet Sumeru night.
“Better?” Alhaitham questioned after Kaveh stopped gagging and started coughing. He reached for the flask of water at his hip he had taken to carrying on nights like these and offered it to Kaveh, who gratefully took it.
“Y-yeah.” Kaveh heaved, and took another sip for good measure.
Alhaitham glanced up Treasure’s Street, a ghost town at this hour compared to its bustling atmosphere in the daytime. The only life left came from the doors of the tavern and Puspa Cafe, both seeing scholars retreating behind its doors for either a dose of caffeine to make it through an all-nighter, or knocking back something stronger for the same reason. They almost reminded him of Kaveh, when they were students. Alhaitham couldn’t count the number of all-nighters he’d seen Kaveh pull, both now and back then. He looked back and watched Kaveh take another swig from the flask, face scrunching at the burn of stomach acid still at the back of his throat. The picture was all too familiar.
“The coast is mostly clear,” Alhaitham assured him, draping Kaveh’s arm over his shoulders when walking on his own still proved troublesome. “No one should spot us and cause you embarrassment.”
They started up the street, awkwardly at first, but slowly found a pace and arrangement of limbs that made them both comfortable. Which often ended up with them pressed closer together than what was probably necessary.
“The bathroom sink started leaking,” Kaveh mumbled into Alhaitham’s shoulder.
“Not a problem. You’ll just fix it, right?” Alhaitham grinned with way too much self-satisfaction, thinking back to the similar comment Kaveh had made about the missing doorknobs on the kitchen cabinet. The first piece of furniture they had bought together, and not at all the last. With every matter of household upkeep, Kaveh always found a way to solve it.
“Mmmm.” Soft breaths tickled the blond strands that were stuck to his pouty lips. “And I think I saw mould growing on your bedroom walls. You should get that checked out.”
“I appreciate the concern, senior.” Not a lie. “Anything else I should be aware of, while you’re at it?”
Kaveh’s brows knitted, genuinely considering it. “I almost tripped over another one of your books this morning.”
“My apologies. Anything I can do to make it up to you?”
“Pay my tab for tonight?”
“Hmmm, I’ll consider it.”
While not all that different from their usual bickering, conversations with Kaveh on the walk home usually had Alhaitham figuratively spilling his guts alongside Kaveh. Openly smiling and teasing, but also humouring Kaveh in ways he was often more reserved with. He wasn’t quite sure why he saved such behaviour only for these moments. The cynical part of him would claim that Kaveh’s drunken mind was far more likely to listen to and internalise any of the kindness that he so often refused to see in Alhaitham. Or else that the same intoxication gave Alhaitham the freedom to be more open, knowing that Kaveh would remember little of it the next morning.
The rest of him knew that there was something special about these quiet moments with each other. Strolling through inky midnight, arm in arm. The moon shone a path home, while the only light Alhaitham could focus on stood beside him. And in such moments, he too felt like he could be a beacon, as Kaveh had so often been for him.
Warm light spilt through the stained glass windows of their shared home, sitting proudly at the top of the street as they rounded the corner. As much as the interior had changed since Kaveh moved in, the outside was the same as ever. Alhaitham wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that, but as long as he still shared those walls with Kaveh, he didn’t mind.
“You left the lamps burning?” Kaveh half asked, half scolded in his barely conscious state. His lips wobbled while Alhaitham shifted his body weight to fish his keys from his pocket.
“I wasn’t gone for long.” Alhaitham awkwardly unlocked the door with one hand, while his other hand gently squeezed Kaveh’s waist. His skin felt hot under such a thin shirt. “I only left to fetch you.”
“Hmmm.” Whatever Kaveh may have wanted to say to that, he left it outside in the cool air while Alhaitham walked them inside and shut the door.
“Are you surprised?” Alhaitham couldn’t help pressing, teasing him and wanting to hear how Kaveh would disagree with him this time. The mischievous smile played on his lips, barely visible when he bowed his head to slip off his boots and then Kaveh’s shoes.
“Hmm. I always thought you’d make a fuss if I left the lamps on for too long,” Kaveh admitted eventually. “Something about wasting oil I didn’t directly pay for.”
“Would you suggest I charge you more rent then?” Alhaitham pushed, curious about what truths Kaveh would share.
But, ever his mirror, it was Kaveh who sought out truth instead. “No… You don’t use my rent money for utilities, do you?”
Alhaitham paused while he slipped off his cloak. “What makes you think that?”
“Just a hunch.”
Hanging his cloak on its designated hook, Alhaitham turned to Kaveh and carefully unpinned his own cape at the base of his throat. For the only sober one between the two of them, his hands were oddly shaking.
“I don’t,” he said eventually. “But, need I remind you that you were the one who insisted on paying rent? What I do with that Mora afterwards is my business.”
Kaveh grumbled something incoherent. Based on how many times they’d had similar conversations, Alhaitham didn’t need much imagination to guess what he was saying. He merely smiled and hung Kaveh’s red drapery next to his emerald one, and led Kaveh to his bedroom.
“Can’t you at least tell me what you spend it on?” Kaveh complained as Alhaitham sat him down on his bed. “Not as a tenant, but as a friend?”
Alhaitham tried to hide his grimace while his nimble fingers carefully slid Kaveh’s red hairpins out from his golden hair. “I never thought of you as a tenant, Kaveh. Please, stop thinking that I do.”
He was silent as he collected each hairpin and untied the small braid, laying the pins and hair tie on Kaveh’s dresser. This was enough of a routine now that Alhaitham knew exactly where they went.
“The Mora is safe,” he continued. “I… I never could spend it on myself. Not yet, at least.”
Kaveh didn’t respond. His eyes fluttered closed while Alhaitham gently unravelled his braid, and his head tipped back as those same fingers combed through his hair. Alhaitham was always surprised by how soft Kaveh’s hair was, even back when they shared the same shampoo. The lamp light caught on blond locks in much the same way Alhaitham had come to be. He had always been refracting whatever Kaveh shone his way.
Alhaitham’s fingertips descended to Kaveh’s jaw, where he lingered on the earrings that dangled there. He could almost feel Kaveh’s pulse in his neck, rivalling his own fierce heartbeat in his chest. It wasn’t helped when Kaveh opened his eyes and gazed up at him, fiery eyes too bright to look directly into, yet too dazzling to look away.
Not as a tenant, Alhaitham thought, blinking himself out of his trance. Not even just a friend. Something more than that.
Kaveh stayed still while Alhaitham removed his earrings, a specific kind of intimate act he’d never shared with anyone before. Alhaitham could see he was already starting to nod off, and as much as he knew Kaveh would be upset about skipping out on his nightly skincare, he’d seen how much Kaveh had been working lately. He could have one night of guilt-free rest.
Once Kaveh was stripped of his most uncomfortable accessories and tucked under the covers, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. Alhaitham set up the usual glass of water and headache remedy on his nightstand, pausing only to retrieve the crumpled-up napkins from his pockets. They didn’t appear to be torn or have smudged ink, which was a relief. Alhaitham knew how much these scribbles meant to an artist, and how much inspiration Kaveh could take from these half-baked ideas once he was more capable.
Making sure all was well, Alhaitham smoothed out each napkin and stacked them in a neat pile. While Kaveh loved to monologue about his work to anyone who would listen, he didn’t often share these thumbnail ideas, and his sketchbook was a sacred artifact made only for his own eyes. And as much as Kaveh insisted that Alhaitham didn’t understand a thing about architecture, he actually appreciated seeing what Kaveh had been working on. Even just to marvel at the ingenuity, or notice how different the initial plans were from the finished product.
As he admired the scribbles one by one, he stopped at one napkin in particular. Much like most of Kaveh’s drunken scribbles, the penmanship was messy and hard to make out, especially on such a small canvas. He could make out a few floorplans and a single sketch of what looked like the exterior of a building. Many of the same aesthetic embellishments that Kaveh added to his designs like a signature were present, but it wasn’t so much the sketches that caught Alhaitham’s eye. Instead, right at the top of the napkin was a heading penned in Kaveh’s slightly altered handwriting. Despite the shaky script and bleeding ink, Alhaitham could still make out the words.
OUR NEW HOME.
His heart squeezed in his chest. Our. Home.
Looking at the floorplans again, he saw something resembling his current residence, with a few changes. Twin studies, one much bigger than the other, which he assumed would be Kaveh’s home studio. A library in addition to the workspace, to account for Alhaitham’s ever-growing collection. And one master bedroom.
Alhaitham glanced at Kaveh’s sleeping face. Maybe Kaveh wouldn’t remember the things Alhaitham said to him during nights like these, but this napkin was real. Kaveh would wake up tomorrow, and see these plans for the future, whether he remembered making them or not. Or maybe he always remembered. Maybe this was something he thought about not only under the cover of moonlight and the dimly lit tavern, but during his waking hours too. Until Kaveh chose to reveal the extent of his plans, Alhaitham could only guess.
Slowly, carefully, Alhaitham placed the prized napkin at the top of the pile. It was good to know that he wasn’t the only one thinking about their future together. It made enjoying the present with each other ever so much sweeter.
He couldn’t keep his smile down or his heart calm as he closed Kaveh’s bedroom door and headed to his own. Should the day ever come that Kaveh showed him the blueprints for that new home, Alhaitham could finally say that he knew exactly what to spend that stash of rent money on.