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Jamil doesn't have time to waste today. The annual New Year’s party means he has to run around directing other servants and preparing everything for the guests… Just kidding, he's babysitting Kalim. This might be one of the few times he's thankful for his very specific job as Kalim's personal servant overwriting his duty as head servant, but to be quite honest, it’s only thanks to the fact his father hasn't completely retired that he can afford to take a break. A break that has lasted a little too long already much to his (dis)pleasure.
If Kalim's office didn't have a sofa, Jamil's sure he'd have simply hugged him while standing straight and still for twenty minutes. Thankfully, it has one and Jamil can simply relax, comfortably sitting on it while Kalim straddles him, intending to spend as much time as humanly possible sticking to him for a reason he sums up as “healing time” – a regular occurrence. Jamil simply uses that opportunity to check the guest list a last time, the file hovering behind Kalim's back thanks to magic. His left hand plays with one of Kalim's new earrings, tear-shaped emeralds that feel agreeable to the touch. A present given on the anniversary date of his failed rebellion – the single golden ear cuff Jamil's wearing is Kalim's return gift. His fingers brush against the pearl-white strands of hair peeking from under the lavishly decorated headband. Kalim closes his eyes, like lulled to sleep.
Still, they have to return to their duties at some point.
“Kalim, we should go back.”
“I’m still recharging.” Kalim's voice is muffled, his face buried in Jamil's chest. Rubbing his cheek against him, he inhales. “Just a lil' bit.”
“That's what you said five minutes ago…”
The unspoken “Act your age already” hangs between them for all of two seconds before Kalim pulls away and opens his mouth. Instead of the defensive and slightly whiny words Jamil expects, what comes out is–
“I miss spending New Year with you. Just with you.”
Kalim's usually cheerful voice is nothing more than a whisper, a pathetic little sound too fragile, unfit for him, yet it echoes in Jamil's brain.
“Kalim…”
It'd be too easy to say the same thing he's been told his whole life – that this his duty, that as the head of the family, he should put himself second – but they've both heard this a million times. Jamil said it a thousand times. And to be fair to him, Kalim has always listened, dutifully accepting everything coming his way, the good, the bad, and the worst. Even now, he upholds the Al-Asim name proudly, never letting a single weakness show and only showing his spoiled side to Jamil.
It's not like he doesn't want to spend the celebrations with Kalim without anyone else around. Even when they work in the same place, even if he's Kalim's right-hand man and the person closest to him, they don't have many occasions to simply unwind by each other's side. He's come to slightly resent his seventeen-year-old self who didn't know how precious his school days would be and who rushed to become an adult.
“Next year.”
“Hm?”
“Next year, as soon as the clock strikes midnight here,” Jamil says, the words coming out so fast he doesn't even have time to think about them, “let's go somewhere far away with the Carpet, somewhere where it's still before midnight and wait for the new year together.”
“Haha, what's that? You're trying to be romantic?”
“If you don't want to–”
“Thanks, Jamil.” He twirls a strand of Jamil’s hair around his finger, bringing it to his lips. “For everything.”
“Just hurry up, they'll start searching for us soon.”
“Yeah… Hey.”
“No, you've recharged enough.”
Kalim shakes his head. “No, not that. Stay close to me, 'kay? So I can wish you a happy new year before anyone else!”
“And who's getting romantic now?”
“Yep, it's me!”
Contrary to what he says, Jamil isn't in a hurry to get up and go back to work. He leans in, pressing his lips against Kalim's in a chaste kiss that's quickly returned. Kalim wraps his arms around Jamil's neck, and maybe it's fine to stay just the two of us for a little longer.
* * *
If anyone notices Jamil's wrinkled clothes or Kalim's headband tied differently than it was two hours ago, nobody says anything – they know better.