Work Text:
Kaveh stared at the paper in front of him. How long had he been sitting here, trying to finish this blueprint? Judging by the candle that he kept at his side as he worked, which was now half its size, it had been approximately too long. Quite frankly, it was embarrassing. The Light of Kshahrewar, unable to finish one simple blueprint. This was his fifth attempt at making an “acceptable” blueprint for his client, and he was exhausted. With each blueprint up until this point, Kaveh had poured his soul into what he was sketching. Yet no matter what he did or changed about the design to better fit the client’s vision, it was “inadequate” to him. Kaveh had been here for hours, toiling away to try and make the blueprint of his client’s dreams. Except everytime he put his pencil to paper, nothing he sketched out looked quite right. He had restarted so many times on this damn thing, that he had now lost count. Thinking about how long he had been sitting here, accomplishing nothing, had tears welling up in his eyes.
Kaveh took a deep breath. Then, he took a step back for a moment and attempted calmly start anew. However, in the efforts of his erasing, he ripped the paper. A messy, horrible tear ran up the right side of the sheet. That was it. The straw that broke the sumpter beast’s back: this
stupid.
little.
tear.
Kaveh could no longer suppress his emotions, and all of his self-control washed away with his sobs. He slammed his eraser down before grabbing the paper and crumpling it up in his frustration. He immediately threw the damned thing into the waste bin beside him before he himself crumpled onto his desk.
Kaveh had never been a pretty crier. That was especially true now, as countless tears ran down his face and an ugly sob left his mouth. His mind raced, all with terrible, self-deprecating thoughts. ‘You’re so useless.’ ‘Why can’t you do this one stupid thing?’ ‘You seriously can’t do the ONE thing you’re good at? That’s pathetic, YOU’RE pathetic.’ ‘The Light of Kshahrewar? How unfitting.’ Kaveh only made himself feel worse and worse as he spiraled down. He began going over all of the reasons he believed he was a good-for-nothing, pathetic failure. Kaveh wasn’t unfamiliar to this feeling unfortunately, but neither was Al Haitham.
In the other room, Al Haitham sat “working” on what he had been given as The Scribe. In reality, he was procrastinating and reading instead. It’s not that he couldn’t do his work or that it was too difficult, he simply didn’t want to. Not right now. His focus was homed in on his book now, and there wasn’t anything about his rotten work that could pull him out of his immersion. That was until the silence of his room was broken by what sounded like faint crying. Al Haitham knew all too well who this lamentable sound belonged to and why. “Oh, Kaveh...” Al Haitham whispered before putting his book down and trekking to the other side of the house. Sure enough, the heart crushing noise was coming from inside Kaveh’s room. Al Haitham gently knocked upon the barely opened door before letting himself in.
“Kaveh?” The Scribe’s voice interrupted the sobs. Kaveh suppressed it as he wiped his tears as best he could and turned slightly, his face still out of view. “You could’ve knocked.” Kaveh weakly commented, too exhausted to truly argue. “I did.” Alhaitham quickly replied. “Oh.” The blond turned away. “You’re overworking yourself again.” Al Haitham continued as he walked closer to the hunched-over man, who refused to look his way. “Kaveh, look at me.” Still too wiped out to refute, he turned his face back to Al Haitham. In doing so, he revealed a red, tear and snot stained complexion. His poor eyes were puffy; his eyelashes soaked with tears. His sclera were bloodshot and almost matching his irises. “What is going on?” There was no hint of his usual scolding in his tone. Rather, it was one that was nothing but sincere concern. Those gentle words, combined with Al Haitham’s worried gaze, Kaveh was rendered defenseless. His face began to scrunch up as tears welled up in his eyes once more. His mind raced with everything that had been going wrong, everything that was wrong with him and Kaveh broke. He broke out into his ugly sob yet again.
Kaveh’s hands moved to his face to cry into them before Al Haitham pulled him into a hug. As his arms wrapped around Kaveh, the blond dropped his arms and held Al Haitham tight, sobbing into his shoulder. Through loud sniffs and cries, Kaveh spewed all that was wrong. Everything that was wrong with him. Everything he had been thinking about himself and his abilities for the past… however long that damn candle was burning for. Everything about the client and his wildly unachievable idea. Everything. He cried about how he was so sorry that Al Haitham had to see him this way. At his worst, at his most pathetic. Throughout all of these, Al Haitham stayed quiet, listening and letting Kaveh get it out of his system as he rubbed his back. It truly broke his heart to see him like this, to hear him say these things about himself. He wanted to interject each time and tell him he was wrong, that he was so much more than what this lousy excuse of a client thought of him. That he and his abilities amaze Al Haitham every day. That there is no place in all of Teyvat that Al Haitham would rather be than here, right now, comforting Kaveh. However that could wait. For now, he was going to listen and rub Kaveh’s back until he has said what he needs to.
Kaveh pulled away eventually, trying to apologize once more for his junior seeing him this way. When he did, Kaveh noticed how soaked Haitham’s shoulder was. The blond began apologizing again, this time for ruining his junior’s shirt. Kaveh had gotten tears, snot, and drool all over it. Haitham was quick to hush him. “Kaveh, it’s okay. It’s not anything that can’t be washed.” He reached his hands to Kaveh’s face, gently wiping way his tears. “Let’s get you cleaned up though.” He then leaned in and tenderly placed a kiss upon Kaveh’s cheek, before taking his hand and leading him to their bathroom.
Al Haitham was quick to light the aromatherapy candles in the room, illuminating it. The soothing, comforting scent of Sumeru Roses filled the room as the younger man walked over to the bath, beginning to run it. He then poured a small bit of their soap into the water, causing it to bubble up. In the meantime, Kaveh had fetched their towels. Once they had everything settled, they both undressed and Haitham took Kaveh’s hand once more. He walked him over to the bath, directing him to step in first. As his skin met the water, Kaveh couldn’t help but smile. Al Haitham remembered exactly how hot Kaveh liked the water to be, which meant so much despite it being such a minute detail. Once he sat down, Haitham followed suit and nestled in behind him. Once they had both settled in, Kaveh relaxed into the water and laid back against Al Haitham’s chest. Haitham then brought his arms around the blond, embracing him. They laid there in silence for a moment, the only sound being that of a few bubbles quietly popping.
As Kaveh began to close his eyes, he felt one of Al Haitham’s arms slowly remove itself from being wrapped around him, his damp hand carefully reaching into his hair. From there, Haitham began gently combing through his blond locks with his fingers. He would begin from the top of Kaveh’s head before softly dragging his hand to the dirty blond tips of his senior’s hair, all the while taking great care not to tug or force his way through any knots or tangles before repeating the process.
After a short while, Haitham stopped the cycle and brought his hand to the front of Kaveh’s head. He made sure all of his hair was out of his face, gently pushing it back before cupping water in his other hand. He brought the cupped hand over the top of Kaveh’s head before slowly tilting it, pouring the perfectly warm water onto his scalp. He repeated this process until the blond locks before him were thoroughly soaked. Once this cycle came to an end, the younger man lathered his hands with their shampoo.