Chapter Text
When the evening sunlight’s fingers stretch across the floor, Kaveh is in the kitchen watching Alhaitham cook. His back aches from standing but he does it anyway. He wouldn’t want Alhaitham to feel lonely when he’s cooking for the both of them.
It’s times like these that boredom steals Kaveh’s mind and searches for things to gain his interest; times like these where he notices things he can’t so easily forget after.
Alhaitham has beautifully shaped eyes, tilted at the edges, inner corners curved; simply attractive. Kaveh has a newfound fixation for these features, Alhaitham’s. They’re all unique, they’re all interesting, all beautiful. Kaveh really enjoys watching these features shift across his face while he cooks. Minimal changes but noticeable. Whilst busy with this new hobby Kaveh has a thought.
Has anyone ever looked at Kaveh this way?
Kaveh knows what this attention he pays Alhaitham means, it’s care. And with this specific fixation, it’s interest. Every look he takes breeds his desire tenfold. He notices that face and those hands, and now he wants to kiss it. Kaveh wonders, if maybe Alhaitham could feel the same.
They’re dating now—in a relationship, something more intimate than they were before. That means Kaveh can have these thoughts now, he can want these things. But does Alhaitham want these things?
Kaveh’s never imagined Alhaitham having a traditional relationship before, and Kaveh doesn’t think his ideals are necessarily traditional either, but does Alhaitham care about kisses? Does Alhaitham ever look at Kaveh and just want to hug him? Does Alhaitham get overwhelmed by the very sight of Kaveh and feel the need to express that rush of emotion? Does he feel the way Kaveh does?
Kaveh doesn’t know how to find the answers to his questions, he doesn’t think he could ask even if he planned to. Things like this never go over well with them, Kaveh comes on too strong and Alhaitham takes all his indirect questions literally which effectively evades every single answer Kaveh could possibly learn something from. It’s just, not constructive. So Kaveh usually avoids asking all together, it’s easier to wait it out and watch.
If Alhaitham wants these things, he’ll go for it. Or it’ll come up. Something like that. Kaveh’s sure.
Alhaitham leans a hip against the counter top as he waits for the food to simmer in the pan. He looks directly at the stove and nowhere else. Kaveh sometimes feels like a bug on the wall in the kitchen, if he gets in the way he gets swat and other than that he doesn’t get paid attention to. He’s always chalked it up to focus, Alhaitham’s focused on cooking and he takes it very seriously. But these days Kaveh feels a little sensitive about it.
They’re in a relationship, that changes things. Kaveh needs a little more attention now. If they had stayed the way they were, not quite enemies, almost friends, then Kaveh would have no expectations. He was grateful just to share a house with Alhaitham and see him once a week when their schedules aligned. But now, this is Kaveh’s partner, and that’s a special role because no one else can hold him in the way his lover would or care for him or kiss him even. And Kaveh can’t fulfill these things himself, that’s why he wanted a partner in his life. That’s why he took the opportunity to express himself to Alhaitham.
So, yes, he has some needs. He just doesn’t know how to communicate that with this guy. He doesn’t ask anything. And Kaveh isn’t very confident he’ll be able to say it without it sounding demanding, or worse, embarrassing.
The whole line of thought is stressful, but what’s stressing him more is the fact that Alhaitham has been looking increasingly more uncomfortable the longer Kaveh looks at him. It makes his eyes waver, glancing at the drawers and returning to his hands. But he looks back. Alhaitham’s body is firmly facing forward, stuck, but his arms are defensive and his eyes seem restless.
Kaveh returns to himself, suddenly insecure. Maybe looking isn’t okay, or maybe it’s just new.
Kaveh takes a breath and raises his head. He lets himself have this. He steals his open glances and fantasizes about being looked at the same. In his fantasy, Alhaitham turns his neck and shoots him a curved smile, something that stuns him where he’s standing. Maybe in his fantasy, he falls back from leaning against the opposing counter, to brushing his back against the island Kaveh uses. In this fantasy they’re hips bump. It’s heady, it’s exhilarating, its new and now Kaveh wants it so bad he can actually feel the way Alhaitham would burn against his side. But he blinks and Alhaitham seems upset.
Kaveh has fantasies, ideals that he hoped he could experience through this relationship. But it’s not so simple. It’s Alhaitham.
“Don’t look at me.” Alhaitham’s voice shocks Kaveh out of his thoughts. All he can think for a moment is something that sounds like he called it. Those words sound so familiar, they ache. They stab at Kaveh’s gut in a way that leaves him thinking something he never wanted to acknowledge, maybe being in a relationship changes nothing.
Kaveh feels the way he’s stuck in his body. Alhaitham hasn’t said anything since but it feels like those words echo. Kaveh’s eyes have retreated to his own frame, arms once crossed loosely now tighten around himself out of instinct.
Stop doing that. Stop showing everything on his face. It’s not so simple. Kaveh loves watching him, it’s how he cares. But Alhaitham has told him to stop. Stop caring so much.
Kaveh doesn’t want to be hated, so he doesn’t fight it like he usually would. They’re in a relationship now, if he fights every little thing Alhaitham’s going to get frustrated with him.
The pan makes a noise and Alhaitham responds to it, releasing the heat til it’s gone quiet. He sets the lid down and moves a hand out. Kaveh recognizes that cue and grabs the plates Alhaitham had set out next to his arm. He hands them over without a word, careful not brush against him.
Kaveh’s sensitive right now, he doesn’t want to make a mistake. Touching Alhaitham and him interpreting it as intentional when he’s in the middle of feeling bothered would be a mistake. Immediately he rids that thought, it’s rude to assume something so negative. But it wouldn’t be mean, it’s normal to feel bothered and Alhaitham is more sensitive than he looks. He wouldn’t be in the wrong to feel that way, but his feelings do make Kaveh insecure. But Kaveh also recognizes that he’s always insecure when someone is upset around him, he’s long since chalked it up to his personality just being that way. Still, doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.
He gives Alhaitham some space, waiting for his cue to head to the table.
He’s grateful Alhaitham always cooks for him, if it weren’t for his kindness Kaveh probably wouldn’t eat so often. It’s not like he’s incapable he’s just not as confident in his skills, nor does he care to improve them. He’s already focused on things that he’s good at, like his job, and analyzing Alhaitham’s mood.
Well, that’s more of a subconscious thing that came from his upbringing. Despite this, it takes precedence over cooking.
Alhaitham picks up his plate, making a motion to Kaveh about his own, then he leads the way to the table that they routinely eat at.
The table in the dining room is old, second hand. There’s a mark in its top that Kaveh notices every time he looks at it. It’s a line that curves, a jut that taints its symmetry at an almost odd angle. It’s irrelevant to notice and unnecessary to do anything about but it’s Kaveh’s fixation while he eats. Every glance he takes away from his spoon goes straight to that curved line. He does not stray, lest he make a mistake.
He will give Alhaitham his privacy, this he’s pretty determined about.
Stuck in his head, it’s times like these that Kaveh wishes Alhaitham would take the opportunity to ask questions and talk but he’s a silent eater for the most part. Kaveh would ask questions but they don’t usually get answered very well and it’s no fun if it’s one sided so he’s long since abandoned bothering. Still, he dreams of having meals filled with casual jokes, curious questions, and nostalgic reminiscing. It all feels so loving to him.
Kaveh wants to create that atmosphere for himself one day, and maybe Alhaitham could be that person to join him.
The minute he lingers on that thought, Kaveh feels a little fearful. That doesn’t sound like something Alhaitham would do. What if, he’s not the type? Could Kaveh cope with that?
His immediate answer is yes, love can cope through anything and what Kaveh feels for Alhaitham is so overwhelming and unlike anything before that it can only be described as deep loving affection. But, what if that means living a life where he doesn’t get to talk at the table and laugh and enjoy nostalgia over wine? What if Alhaitham remains uncurious towards Kaveh and never asks a single question over dinner? Could he really handle that?
Kaveh needs to think. His hip bumps the table as he stands, a silent wave of embarrassment flusters him but he doesn’t deter from his direction. He clears his plate from the table and places it in the sink, grabbing Alhaitham’s empty glass as he goes.
Alhaitham makes no noise about his actions so he figures leaving him like usual is fine, if he cared he’d ask him to stay. But for extra measure, and because Kaveh believes things have changed now, he gives him a chance.
“I’m going to retire for the night.” He says, announcing his plans.
Alhaitham says nothing but a noise of acknowledgement. Kaveh’s surprised he even gets that. He should be happy, but somewhere in his stomach is starting to turn. Maybe it’s best he’s alone for the night, his mood is becoming unpredictable. He wouldn’t want to bother Alhaitham with it.
It’s the final thought that leaves him shutting the door behind him. With its resounding click, the energy rushes through and escapes his body. It leaves him feeling exhausted, like the dredges of an eraser left on the table after erasing an entire building from paper. Kaveh feels like he’s erased something important from himself.
Is he dulling himself to make Alhaitham comfortable? This assumption is reasonable, it’s not the first Kaveh’s done it, but for Alhaitham it would be. This is an action Kaveh usually uses with strangers or people he hopes to please, not Alhaitham who knows him enough to be uncaring whether he’s loud or quiet. So why is Kaveh trying so hard to please him?
Is this what a relationship does to a person? Does Alhaitham feel this way to? Or is it just Kaveh who’s struggling with this, is he feeling this way all alone?
A wistful groan finds itself outside of his chest, a sigh that escapes without purpose. Kaveh follows the breath that escapes him, falling into his bed just steps away. He should grab his things and head for the shower but he finds himself unable to move. There will be no more leaving this room for the night, there will be no more steps taken today. Kaveh is done, and once done, there is no reviving his energy.
Despite feeling so tired, Kaveh’s wakefulness persists deep into the night, unhindered despite his many pleas to his mind to just fall asleep. No matter how many fox faces he conjures, nothing takes.
He just can’t get it out of his head. What happens if Kaveh’s fantasies are too idealistic for reality? What then? Does he give up? Does he, give up on his fantasies, or on Alhaitham? Surely there’s someone out there with the same ideals as him, but who’s to say he’ll be attracted the same. Who’s to say they’ll be attracted to him? Kaveh is sure he can be a good partner if given the right opportunity, but how would he find them and—thinking of this any further feels wrong. He’s in a relationship that he’s already thought hard to get into. Now it’s like he’s thinking hard to get out. But that’s not what he wants. He knew Alhaitham wasn’t exactly like his fantasy, it’s Alhaitham. And Kaveh wants him all the same. He’ll cope.
That’s his final decision.
His determination is not enough to send him to bed. He sits and waits for the perfect idea to comfort him to sleep. Something with a good smell that wraps him up like his comforter, warm like a person’s body. A hand large enough to cover his face and pull him back into an embrace, to hold him there. To hold him no matter how much he decides to flee, no matter how scared he is.
Kaveh doesn’t want to run away from this warmth but he can’t help but feel like it’s the logical solution. It’s not going to stay forever. It doesn’t want to like he does. What other reason does Kaveh have to give in and let himself be pulled under? Is Alhaitham’s face all it takes?
He speaks it into form, Alhaitham’s face appears behind that hand and Kaveh’s body betrays his reflex and relaxes. Oh, it really is all it takes.
A bright light blinds his aching eyelids, peeling him away from his groggy memory of sleep. He can only remember dreaming that one thing before bed and nothing else. It feels like he hasn’t slept it all.
He wakes up lazy today, unable to find the urge to wiggle his toes and swing his feet over the side of his bed. He feels like eraser shavings, like some of yesterday is following him. He doesn’t know how to shake it but he thinks about it for a long while. Every so often his mind slips, a bit back into that groggy half-aware state. But he remembers ultimately that he’s supposed to be awake. Alhaitham won’t feed him if he’s not awake at the same time he is.
Kaveh’s stomach growls. Food. He yearns. What a good idea that sounds like. He should get up for food. He wonders what Alhaitham’s going to make today.
Suddenly anxious, Kaveh feels his body push itself out of bed. If he takes any longer Alhaitham will be upset. He hasn’t felt this way since he was a child. It’s odd and vaguely nostalgic but it’s not something he wants to feel for very long so he works hard to get rid of it. He gets up, fixes his unkempt hair, pulls on something fresh and heads to the bathroom on his way to the kitchen.
His face feels oily so he borrows a cotton from Alhaitham’s drawer and wipes his face. Even just borrowing something he’s borrowed before makes him feel uneasy. What is up with him? Why is Alhaitham intimidating him so badly?
Kaveh doesn’t have any excuse for why he buried the used cotton pad deep into the trash, just that he’s afraid Alhaitham will see it and get upset that he didn’t ask first. He’s never done anything to make Kaveh think this, but Kaveh feels like a child today and old habits die hard.
Kaveh crawls out of the bathroom feeling worn out and slightly anxious, but the idea of breakfast carries him to the kitchen.
The morning light is bright, specs of dust painted green by the stained window panes. Alhaitham stands in the center of the kitchen, staring at a full sink. He looks bothered.
“I’ll clean it.” Kaveh enters his space and starts the sink. The drain is plugged by habit, the sink fills. Alhaitham steps back, surprisingly lenient, but he still looks bothered. Kaveh doesn’t think he was dreading doing the dishes.
“What is it?” He asks.
Alhaitham shushes him momentarily and Kaveh blinks. Oh, he’s thinking something right now. Kaveh tries not to interrupt and at the same time, he tries not to take it personal. Alhaitham must be trying to solve something by himself again.
Kaveh looks at the dishes in the sink, mostly cooking utensils, and gets an idea. He must not have anything to cook with. Even if Kaveh washes it now, Alhaitham won’t use them. They’re too fresh and Kaveh won’t likely get them all done in time. Alhaitham always wakes up with a raving stomach. He needs to eat now.
A moment passes where Kaveh waits in silence, busying himself with an off train of thought. He tries his best to ignore the nervous beat of his heart when Alhaitham finally speaks up.
“I’m going to pick something up from the tavern.” He tells him, “Want anything?”
Kaveh blinks. “Oh uh,” his entire mind is blank, he quickly tries to think of what he’d like to eat but it’s not coming up. What are his options? What are the prices? What does his stomach even want right now?
Alhaitham sighs. “Kaveh.”
Right, he’s hungry. He’s impatient. “Just get me anything, you know my tastes.”
That seems to upset him further. “Just tell me what you want so I don’t get you something you hate. You’re picky.”
Kaveh feels offended by that remark. He didn’t have the upbringing that allowed him to be picky but his stomach still refuses certain foods anyway. His heart fastens. Maybe this is why he chooses to go hungry. This simple comment spoken without much thought has made him lose his appetite and with it, all his decision making reasoning.
“Then don’t get me anything.” Kaveh grumbles, grabbing the sponge off the windowsill, he decides to ignore Alhaitham for the dishes.
Alhaitham doesn’t make a second remark nor does he make a single sound. Kaveh’s worried this is going to cause another argument but Alhaitham must not see the worth. He has other priorities and he follows them right out that door.
As he goes, Kaveh finds his stomach coming back. God, he really was hungry after all. And now that he’s alone he knows exactly what he’s craving. Honey bread with red sauce. Fuck and it’s cheap too. He should’ve just asked for his usual.
He spends that entire sink’s warm water on regretful thoughts and mournful feelings, all while trying to stamp them down. It’s a waste of time feeling upset over a decision that’s already been made. This may be his ego talking but he’s not going to punish himself for making a mistake. Neither is he going to admit it to anyone else. No, he’ll handle this alone.
He can go a day without breakfast, he’ll live. It’s more rewarding keeping his pride and modesty then going back on his word over such a matter. That would make him untrustworthy. So he won’t complain and he won’t be bothered.
The front door opens. Kaveh can hear it down the hall. He shuts off the water and begins to dry the cups. He can smell Lambad’s special over the stench of soapy water. Oh how he wishes he had the courage to ask for something, anything, even just a nibble. But Alhaitham doesn’t share food. It makes him deeply uncomfortable and although Kaveh doesn’t relate because sharing makes him feel good, he does understand what it means to have specifications that others judge you for. And Kaveh will never judge someone, even if that person is Alhaitham.
Alhaitham is the last one who should be judged for who he is. He lives so brazenly that it’s only expected that he has specifications. Kaveh is different, people expect him to be easy going. If they heard Alhaitham call him picky it’d ruin their image of him entirely. That thought is deeply unsettling.
Kaveh sets the last glass down as Alhaitham enters the kitchen. “Come meet me in the living room when you’re done.” And then he leaves.
Kaveh wants to assume immediately that he’s in trouble. It’s the only consistent formula in his life, but this is Alhaitham who holds no authority over him. Most likely, he’s done something irrefutably kind again, like buy Kaveh breakfast despite his fickle attitude. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up in case he’s wrong, but just the thought improves his mood on Alhaitham’s attitude from the morning.
How easily swayed he is, it annoys him. But it’s not so simple. It’s Alhaitham. No one can ever call Alhaitham unfair.
Kaveh prepares himself after setting the silverware away. He leaves the rest of the dishes on the drying towel and heads to the living room. It’d be rude to make Alhaitham wait any longer.
The couch lines the wall beneath a large paned window. It’s Kaveh’s favorite architectural feature of the house. It’s designed after his mother’s sitting room. Alhaitham looks tiny underneath it, but the lighting is nice.
There’s two boxes on the table along with a small bottle of something fizzy.
Oh Alhaitham you didn’t. He wants to sing his praise aloud but, admittedly he’s embarrassed by his behavior from this morning. It wouldn’t come off sincere would it? It’d sound like he’s manipulating him. Acting temperamental and then praising him when he folds anyway.
Kaveh is not grooming Alhaitham nor will he be perceived that way. That’s something only controlling mothers do to their children.
But he wants to praise him anyway, because sitting on the table is Kaveh’s favorite beverage only second to Lambard’s specialty wine.
Kaveh shuffles over, a bit sheepish but not overly conspicuous about it. He sits quietly, soft and a bit prim. He keeps his hands to himself but his eyes are sparkling. Alhaitham has started to eat already but Kaveh’s not surprised nor hurt, he’s glad the man is finally getting something he wants.
It must be hard being Alhaitham in the mornings. If he doesn’t eat he gets nauseous and then he’ll most likely get a headache and then something else in his body will hurt. He’s sensitive like that. Kaveh found it ironic at first but now he just pities him.
The smell of something delicious steals Kaveh’s mind, away from Alhaitham’s morning habits and towards the box on the table.
“Is it really for me?” He can’t help but ask. It doesn’t sound pitiful in his head, but it comes out a bit childish.
Alhaitham takes a minute to chew and swallow. “Yes,” he delivers, “all yours Kaveh.”
Kaveh opens the lid of the box, his fingers carefully unfold the package without sound, sure to avoid any annoying squeaks in the cardboard. His eyes widen as it opens.
He could kiss Alhaitham right now.
He says as such without a hint of shame. It’s never carried such plausible weight before but now that he’s said it and realized, it feels heavy.
Alhaitham doesn’t take him seriously. “I made the right choice then.” He says instead, “Good.”
“Thank you.” Kaveh almost says. It gets stuck on his tongue and instead comes out sounding like, “Good job.” At least he managed to praise him. But he was right, it does sound insincere.
Alhaitham pays him no mind. Kaveh takes that as permission to eat. It’s euphoric. There’s red sauce inside of it. That’s a special order. Kaveh could seriously kiss him.
Would that be so strange? Is it really so strange to take seriously? He feels insecure all of a sudden, and incredibly conscious.
If Kaveh were to kiss him, would Alhaitham even like it? What would there be to like about kissing Kaveh? Is he attractive to him? Does Alhaitham think he’s pretty like the professors did? Does he find him charming? Or is he really just loud and annoying like he’s called him before? Was that ever serious? Maybe it was, but maybe it’s changed.
But what if it hasn’t? Why is he even in a relationship with him if he doesn’t like him? Alhaitham hasn’t even said he likes him, let alone could be attracted to him and he’s left no clues or hints. He doesn’t stare, he doesn’t linger in his space.
He buys him breakfast from Lambad’s even when bothered for time and Kaveh is being indecisive. Was that difficult to do? Is doing something difficult for someone an indicator of interest? Or maybe he’s just gotten used to it. Maybe it’s not necessarily romantic.
How lame. It’d be entirely lame if Alhaitham’s feelings for him weren’t romantic. Kaveh could’ve sworn they were on the same page. Then again, they never talked about it directly.
Did they? Did Alhaitham ever insinuate it was romantic? Are they even dating?
If Kaveh kissed him would Alhaitham even care? Would he tell him not to do that again?
“Don’t look at me. I’m eating.”
Kaveh blinks. He hadn’t realized. “Sorry.” His chin falls to his chest, eyes finding the table in front of him. There are no jutted lines but he stares it down nonetheless. He hadn’t realized. His mistake. He’ll fix it. Don’t fret, he tells his beating heart. It was a mistake. He won’t do it again.
Kaveh was wrong. He does it again.
Alhaitham has decided to spend his day lounging on the sofa and Kaveh had decided to join him with a catalogue for lack of a thing to do and a yearning to be by his side. But he’s doing it again. He’s looking at him.
Alhaitham is slanted across the couch, opposite to the cushion Kaveh leans against. His feet are propped up, bare. Kaveh thinks that’s where he stares first, trying to merge the image he has of Alhaitham in his mind with this new image of Alhaitham’s bare feet.
It’s a strange thing to be caught looking at so Kaveh removes his gaze and focuses on his catalogue but Alhaitham’s figure forms a line so architecturally sound that Kaveh wants to find its weak spots. He doesn’t let that happen. He distracts himself with a second thought.
Would kissing Alhaitham be strange?
Kissing is something pleasant usually, and all romantics dream of it. A kiss usually marks the beginning of something, something deeper than a casual friendship. But would it being Alhaitham, change anything?
What would his lips feel like? Would he hold Kaveh? Would he be tentative? Kaveh would be, he’d be shy surely, a little hesitant. But if he finds his confidence he’d be passionate, maybe languid. Would Alhaitham—Kaveh can’t attest any of those words to Alhaitham. Passionate? Shy? Languid? At most he’d be calculated. But that could be good too.
He’d probably do a lot of research to get it right. But maybe there’s something underlying to Alhaitham that he keeps hidden away, something he doesn’t understand himself, something emotional. Romantic maybe?
The thought is fun to have. Kaveh decides just the idea of finding out would make a kiss enjoyable but then, what after? Could it become a routine?
Alhaitham likes routine, finds comfort in it. Kaveh doesn’t mind it if it means he doesn’t have to worry about when he’s eating, but for a kiss? If every kiss means there will be a next one, maybe he could get used to the idea of a routine.
Kaveh suddenly feels like he’s getting ahead of himself. Alhaitham hasn’t shown any interest in kissing, then again he’s not the type to show interest in anything like that. Kaveh’s starting to feel discouraged actually the more he thinks about it.
Whatever, it’s not an important thought at the moment, he decides. Instead he finds his eyes trailing back to Alhaitham’s business. He’s reading. What’s he reading? Kaveh’s curious what genre he likes so much. Is it technical? Is it research? Or maybe it’s a story he can’t put down.
Alhaitham flips a page. Kaveh blinks. He returns his eyes to his catalogue. He could always ask if he’s so curious but it’d sound awkward probably, and Alhaitham doesn’t look like he wants to be bothered.
Kaveh finds another excuse to keep his eyes firmly in his business, but he finds himself breaking his resolve to not stare. Every time he drags his eyes back, he feels a part of him detach with it. Every question he has, he slowly forgets. The feeling of curiosity that he holds, starts to become hard to identify under the pressure of his heart.
It gets to the point where merely sitting in Alhaitham’s presence is not enough. But he looks busy. Kaveh doesn’t want to bother. He should find something else to do with himself today.
Kaveh stands, gives an excuse that meets a hum then confines himself to his room for the rest of the evening.
This event carries into the following days. Kaveh tries to remind himself when he’s staring to quit it. Every time he does, a part of him forcibly detaches, and slowly he starts to forget the details he had been so intent on remembering.
It gets easy after a while. To avoid looking at Alhaitham means to avoid him in his entirety. Kaveh does his best. But now, suddenly, Alhaitham is searching for him. He’s being clingy.
Kaveh’s first thought is that it’s a sign of interest, finally. Then it stops there. But it starts like this.
Busy at the House of Daena picking up material for an old professor, Kaveh runs into Alhaitham leaving his office with an essay in hand. Kaveh hadn’t noticed him at first but now that he’s seen him he can’t look anywhere else.
Alhaitham’s reading with a full mind to the paper in his hand but he’s also adjusting the Akasha on his ear, probably volume control. He’s walking down the center of the library, nonchalant. Kaveh finds himself distracted by the very image of him. Busy with this distraction, Alhaitham chances a glance up and notices him. He fiddles with his device once more and then he’s walking over.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Uh—“ Kaveh gapes, lame hand holding a folder, he glances at it then raises it slightly, “running errands?” He delivers.
Alhaitham looks at the papers then nods like it makes sense. “Got a minute?” He asks.
Kaveh doesn’t actually, he’s on a time crunch and finding this student who is supposed to deliver to the professor is proving more time consuming then he’d thought.
“Actually,” Kaveh starts, and as he starts Alhaitham’s face shifts, ever so slightly. He looks disappointed. Kaveh rushes to finish, “I just have to deliver these to Professor Gidri and then I’m free.”
Alhaitham blinks, “Oh, he should be in a meeting right now. Take them to my office and I’ll deliver them with his mail.”
“They have the scribe delivering mail now?”
“They have the mail deliverer visit the scribe’s office now, it’s easier to send approved essays and revisions that way. Come.” Alhaitham commands and Kaveh follows.
Kaveh’s been to Alhaitham’s office before, but that was ages ago when he was newer at his job. He looks more settled in now.
Tall bookshelves line the walls next to hanging lanterns. A crowded desk fills the space in the corner of the room right before a comfortable looking green sofa. There’s a table with a teapot and some odd cups left atop it along with some papers strewn about. There’s a cushion on the floor.
Kaveh’s surprised by how haphazard it is. He knows Alhaitham likes to remain tidy, but maybe it’s because no one enters this office without Alhaitham that he lets himself slack a bit.
“Don’t judge it.” Alhaitham warns, grabbing the folder from Kaveh’s hand and directing it to a pile on his desk.
“I wouldn’t dare.” Kaveh tells him, finding a spot to sit on the sofa. The window behind him paints the room in a nice green hue. The lamps are amber. It’s all very pleasant.
“Now that you’re here,” Alhaitham sits across from him, that paper still in his hand, “I can discuss this with you.”
“Discuss, what?” Kaveh questions with trepidation. That better not be a proposal Kaveh submitted that Alhaitham’s going to make fun of him for.
But alas, it is not. And thus begins the couple hour long rant that Alhaitham delivers after reading the contents of a pertinently interesting essay he’d come across.
Kaveh’s starting to zone a bit but he tries his best to pay attention even though most of it is not his expertise. He pays attention to the emotion Alhaitham exudes instead.
Kaveh’s been listening to Alhaitham rave about this essay he likes for so long that he’s practically forgotten all about what his plans were for the evening. Alhaitham finishes with a statement that Kaveh sort of grasps but doesn’t quite understand the concept of but he nods along anyways. Alhaitham must read it in his face that he’s lost, otherwise he wouldn’t be holding onto him like this?
“Let’s go, it’s late.” He says. Kaveh agrees so he stands. “Lambad’s should still be open by now, let’s pick something up for dinner.” That makes sense so Kaveh follows, all the way back through The House of Daena and onto the streets of the city.
They walk side by side along the road down the steps and onto the pier. Kaveh eyes the sight of tree heads and the sun falling slowly from the sky. Alhaitham takes his distraction in stride, grabbing a hold of his arm and guiding him into the restaurant.
“I could’ve waited outside.” Kaveh blinks.
“You might as well come in with me since we’re both heading the same way.” It almost sounds like he’s looking for an excuse to be with Kaveh a little longer. Kaveh just wishes he’d say that. It’d save him the trouble of having to guess. But maybe it’s the happiness he feels from thinking Alhaitham wants to be with him that leaves him so lenient.
It’s just after dinner rush, tables are finishing up and couples are leaving. The bar is strewn with stragglers waiting for drinks to become half off and tables in the back are getting set up for larger parties. Usually the four of them, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Cyno, and Tighnari rent a table to host their TCG games but today Alhaitham leads him to the reserved side of the tavern to a table tucked away in the back.
“You don’t want to take it home?” Kaveh asks, looking around the spot Alhaitham’s chosen. It’s dimly lit compared to the rest of the tavern, it’s cozy.
“We might as well eat in,” Alhaitham says, “it’ll taste better warm.” He raises a hand and a server with a familiar face comes by. Kaveh lets Alhaitham do the ordering, he doesn’t want to order something expensive on accident.
Now Kaveh’s certain Alhaitham just wants his whole evening. Kaveh doesn’t mind giving it to him but he’s a little afraid he’s misreading this all. What if Alhaitham really is just that hungry and this is all a coincidence since they ran into each other?
Still, Kaveh enjoys moments like these, when it’s just the two of them sharing a meal outside of the house. It’s rare, but it fills his belly with a warmth he doesn’t know how to describe. It’s romantic. Kaveh feels his face flushing and he hasn’t even ordered a bottle yet. He should do that now.
He stands to head over to the bar when Alhaitham tells him, “I already ordered you one.”
Kaveh blinks. “Are you supporting me getting drunk today?” He slowly lowers himself back to his seat.
“I merely predicted that you’d want a drink.” Alhaitham crosses his arms, a finger tapping his bicep, “You’ve likely spent the day running errands for people free of charge.” Like a fool goes unsaid but Kaveh pays it no mind. It’s better when it’s just his cruel thoughts adding to his disorganized feelings and not Alhaitham criticizing him for how he lives. Also, he’s excited about his drink.
Kaveh sits patiently, elbows on the table as his hands cup each other. Fiddling with his fingers he stares off at the pillars of the tavern. Good structure, fine design, it could use some more windows though. But he supposes the lack of windows is what makes it so cozy?
It’s quiet between them, it usually is when they’re not fighting. Kaveh wonders what else there could even be to talk about? Kaveh knows if he were Alhaitham he could think of a million questions to ask, but being Kaveh, he can’t think of a single one for Alhaitham. Not one that he’d take seriously. That’s the difference between them he supposed.
Alhaitham’s aloof and Kaveh’s dramatic.
The wine comes first. A tall bottle with a green neck and gold belly. It pours out red into the glass. Alhaitham’s water arrives at the same time so Kaveh pours him a glass too.
The hair on the back of Kaveh’s hand is starting to tingle as he pours that glass. The feeling of people around him is starting to get to him the longer he waits to get a drink in, just enough to calm his overactive senses. Kaveh’s always been sensitive but being hyperaware of your surroundings isn’t always necessary. So, when he’s out, wine helps.
The feeling of being watched, in places like these, isn’t something you can easily wipe away though. These people know him, they know of him; they know his title. Rumors will spread no matter how hard he tries to appear mundane, or tries to evade scandal, or tries to act like Alhaitham means nothing to him.
Meandering patrons and curious eyes will trail, mouths will feel empty, bored as they wait for their food, and talk will start.
Kaveh cannot avoid being seen, but he can try to control what they speak about. That’s why, this feeling of anxiety sticking to his skin like a layer of grime, is actually welcome. That’s why, any time he finds his eyes wandering towards Alhaitham, he is harsh on his heart and allows any cruel thought he can manage. It’s to keep him in line, it’s to keep things under control. It’s to avoid tarnish to the glorious title, The Light of Kshahrewar. Otherwise he may never get a client again. Or worse, his mother should hear.
It’s not that the way Kaveh lives is anything to be ashamed of, even his affection for Alhaitham is entirely his business. However, he has an image that’s been crafted without his awareness and any difference from that mold would confuse people. If Kaveh, a man who repeatedly could not agree with The Scribe of Haravatat suddenly were to be seen flouncing about his arm and appearing agreeable without argue, well then his reputation would suffer. They’d think he’d lost his judgement. Besides, the way Kaveh is treating Alhaitham now is far from normal, even he can see that.
Bending to suit his needs is not like him. He only does that to people he fears will judge the image of The Light of Kshahrewar or authority figures like his mother. But Alhaitham doesn’t view Kaveh like that and he’s not an authority figure. So what is he so afraid of? Why can’t Kaveh find his tongue around him? Where has his confidence gone?
Kaveh wonders sometimes if Alhaitham can feel these looks too. If maybe this is why they don’t go places together so often. Of course Kaveh can draw a crowd but put him together with the famous Scribe who turned down an esteemed position from the Akademiya and throw in a friend who knows of their frequent arguments on the discussion board and people are sitting waiting for something to happen between them. They’re a spectacle now. It can’t be comfortable for a man who hates to be watched.
Now Kaveh feels bad about this situation. How could he have avoided letting Alhaitham feel this way? He doesn’t even know how Alhaitham feels but just assuming is already too much for his heart to bear.
Kaveh sets his glass down. He’s had enough for the evening. It’s setting him on edge more than fuzzing out the eyes around him. What he needs is this pit in his stomach to dematerialize. He needs to fill it.
The light above this table is half-lit. Three candles line up inside the tilted prism, but only two are alight. The asymmetry is distracting. He tries hard to think of that and nothing else. He’s drunk. It doesn’t work very well.
Once again, Kaveh’s eyes are being pulled to a much more distracting sight. Alhaitham leaning comfortably in a chair, arms crossed and head tilted, he rests his eyes. Kaveh can’t tell if he’s listening to something with that tailored device of his or not but he looks content with just sitting in silence. Kaveh wants to know what he’s thinking. Maybe he’s thinking about the essay that Kaveh couldn’t understand.
Kaveh feels the slacking pull to his lips, his eyes don’t feel as open as they usually do, he’s sure he must be pouting. But he wants his attention. How else is he supposed to express this? What excuse should he give?
The food arrives. Kaveh is grateful to see bread on the menu.
There’s no other food like it to fill him up with ease. It’s warm, satisfying, it’s flavor is soft enough that just a little sauce can change its entire taste; he’ll never get fatigued from eating it. It’s reliable. It’s comforting. It’s Kaveh’s favorite and Alhaitham knows that. What a sweet guy. What a kind and attentive man. Kaveh feels grateful.
Alhaitham is eating something new, some kind of bird from Mondstat. He has thoughts and opinions on it and how it’s cooked. Kaveh asks about it.
Alhaitham tells him, “Can’t complain. Would probably get it again but not anytime soon.” It’s amicable. “And you?”
Kaveh tries to form a good response. In truth it’s not as satisfying as the bread was, and he kind of feels nauseous at the sight of the mushrooms but Alhaitham bought this meal so, “It was good. I’m happy with it.” he doesn’t lie. It was good, it’s not amazing nor something he’d fantasize about having again but it’s not something that’d ruin his day. It’s food, and he picked out the mushrooms so it’s fine.
He knows Alhaitham likes black pepper sauce, he frequently uses it in meals and because of that, the black pepper sauce is growing on him. Though Kaveh would’ve preferred something red or even garlic maybe, the black pepper isn’t bad.
The only reason Kaveh doesn’t say all that is because he’s worried Alhaitham will hear bits and pieces of what he’s said and conclude that Kaveh hates it, when that’s not true. It’s an experience and a necessary part of Kaveh growing used to foods he wouldn’t normally choose, so it’s a good thing.
But Alhaitham has a soft spot for failure and Kaveh’s critics don’t go heard very often. In other words, Alhaitham doesn’t take criticism very well and no matter how sweet Kaveh makes it sound, the main intent of what Kaveh means to say gets lost in translation. So he’s given up on telling Alhaitham his real thoughts about food. It’d just stress him out.
Though it’s a bit lonely, Kaveh’s resigned himself to this shortcoming. It’s not a big deal. But two small deals grow into three and suddenly Kaveh’s back home laying in his bed worrying about the future again.
What if Kaveh keeps minimizing himself like this and Alhaitham gets used to a small portion of Kaveh and when Kaveh gets tired of being unheard and lonely and small he breaks and it breaks Alhaitham? Alhaitham thinks this is normal. Kaveh knows this isn’t. How does he fix that? How does he desensitize Alhaitham to Kaveh’s personality, is it even possible? Should he even bother?
Kaveh is starting to see a pattern in his behavior. An old familiar routine that’s broken relationships before, this one even. Can this relationship handle going through the same pattern twice? Repeating your past is insanity, Kaveh should’ve learned by now.
Now he feels bad. Now he’s not only unsure of what to do but he’s also busy berating himself for having a pattern. Is this normal? Is this human? Or, is this just Kaveh and another one of his terrible habits; like hating mushrooms.
Kaveh hates much more than just mushrooms. It’s not convenient for the people who say they want to help Kaveh.
They say they want him to eat well and be healthy, but what they really want is for him to take care of himself. It gets tiring taking care of another person, his mother told him so.
Kaveh should find out how to make his own food. If he doesn’t want to eat food he doesn’t like, he should be able to take care of himself so he can make his own decisions. The only thing is, he doesn’t know how.
If Alhaitham can’t take care of him, Kaveh’s going to have to figure out how to do it himself. He’s sure he can, he’s done it before. He just doesn’t quite remember how. He knows he didn’t eat as well as he does now, nor did he have his own room, or have someone to eat at a table with. But Kaveh can survive on his own. In the chance that Alhaitham can’t handle all of Kaveh, Kaveh is prepared to leave.
It’s the comfort from that thought that sends him to sleep, but he wakes up with a strange unease. His hair sticks to the back of his neck and his shirt clings to his arms. His body feels warm and sweaty. Kaveh uses the morning for himself, doing everything he can to rid of himself of this off feeling. He finds distraction in a book he picked up from The House of Daena.
Several words in, Kaveh feels something take flight in his chest. Excitement. His cheeks hurt with the feeling. It’s so big for him, every emotion is, but this is such a beautiful feeling, he has to share it. Kaveh thinks of Alhaitham immediately. The memory of Alhaitham’s excited rambling in his office gives Kaveh the confidence to knock on his study door. Kaveh has found something worthwhile to ramble about too.
“It’s open.” Kaveh takes the permission to enter the study. Alhaitham sits at a desk, book in hand with a quill nearby. He’s likely gathering inspiration to write about. Kaveh hopes what he has to say might do the same.
“You’re never gonna believe what I just learned.”
Alhaitham looks up, seemingly interested, “What is it?”
“Well I was reading this book on liyuean architecture—“
It’s like a fog clouds over Alhaitham’s eyes, “Why bring this to me? I don’t know anything about architecture.” Kaveh can see the exact moment when Alhaitham loses all interest.
Kaveh blinks, “That’s not the point—that’s not even important, just, I’ll explain—”
“Even if you do I don’t think I’ll get it the way you do.” What is he, saying? “Why don’t you find the traveler to discuss this topic with, they’re in town and they’ve been to Liyue so it’ll be a much better conversation.”
Is it because he’s busy or is he really just that oblivious? Kaveh just wants to share the excitement. Isn’t this what Alhaitham did in his office just the other day? No, maybe Kaveh’s misunderstanding what that meant to Alhaitham.
There’s nothing entirely wrong with what Alhaitham’s saying but, for some reason, Kaveh hates it.
Alhaitham gets to cling but Kaveh doesn’t? Don’t make him laugh. How unfair is that?
Kaveh hates that thought so he shoves it down. He doesn’t know how to explain how he feels so instead he listens to Alhaitham’s advice and keeps it in mind. Without another word he finds his way out onto the town.
It’s warm, it’s pleasant, but Kaveh’s legs hurt by the time he gets to the edge of the city. He doesn’t want to walk around when it’s busy out, when people are dying to enjoy the good weather. But that’s how he finds himself at a statue of the dendro archon. Coincidentally, a traveler stands there.
“Traveler?” Kaveh calls out, stunned at the chances.
The traveler looks up, brushes a bang from his cheek and waves. Kaveh walks up to him, climbing the small mound of grass. Looking around he doesn’t see the floating friend.
“Paimon’s babysitting.” Traveler answers the question before Kaveh even thinks to ask it. “What are you doing out here?”
“Truthfully? I lost a fight with Alhaitham.”
Travelers eyes glint with something knowing, “Come sit with me.” He invites. Kaveh feels too burdened with emotion to do anything but accept.
So there they sit on a hill above the statue, watching the wind play with the reeds between the trees. Traveler gently coaxes out the details of Kaveh’s retelling, learning about the end of Kaveh’s excitement for the day.
“So what is it you’d learned from the book?” The traveler asks, gentle voice pulling sincerity from Kaveh’s chest.
“It sounds so silly now,” his voice wavers, he can’t control how he feels about this at all, “it’s so simple,” he repeats. “I just thought it was neat how all of the roofs in Liyue are built to look like birds, the curves are the wings and the edges are like downward beaks, there was a whole article on different birds thought to be used as inspiration, the adepti’s own form were used, but it’s not anything important.” Kaveh suddenly finds passion, “But it’s important to me!” He says, defending himself from that thought that allows himself to downplay what it truly means to him. “This is important to me. The ability to talk about my interests with my partner is—crucial! Otherwise who are they even with?”
Travelers hums along, giving Kaveh the courage to speak what he truly feels rather than what he’s been told he should feel. It’s heartbreaking. It’s painful. It leaves him silent in the end gasping for words that don’t exist. It’s the pain he anticipates from never resolving this.
Kaveh knows he will not be able to bring this up with Alhaitham. He does not have the courage. And that is his fault. This is his cross that he will bear for their entire relationship. He knows the resentment will come, but he hopes that if Alhaitham cares enough, he will notice his feelings before it’s too late. Is that selfish?
Kaveh picks at the grass then stands. “I want to throw stones. Let’s go find a river.”
Traveler thinks, then nods, “I know a place.”
Dry grass turns wet and the eye of a pond, green and blue, ripples beneath falling leaves. There is a leg of a branch, a large log hanging over the water. They sit there, fists full of pebbles.
A laziness sits in Kaveh’s throw, too exhausted to try for a real skip across. They make pitiful splashes that cause crossing waves to bump into each other, disrupting the calm still water. Traveler juggles his last couple pebbles in his palm, he chooses to keep them. Kaveh is desperate to give his away, pebbles lost to the bottom of the pond. The sadness he feels at an empty hand is something he tries to ignore.
Kaveh doesn’t know what to tell Alhaitham.
He did end up finding the traveler and they did talk about liyuean architecture but it doesn’t feel like what he wanted. He was just excited. He wanted Alhaitham to see him excited. Maybe he just wanted an excuse for his attention the same way he’s been bothering Kaveh for his.
How does he tell that to him without accusing Alhaitham for hurting his feelings? What does he do when Alhaitham says nothing, tongue stolen by a childish fear of being in trouble. Kaveh has felt that, he doesn’t want to inflict that. But how else does he communicate what has happened today? Perhaps he shouldn’t. But he wants to. But Alhaitham’s feelings are important to him. So he won’t. He doesn’t have the energy to fight for his feelings anyway. Alhaitham will win.
Kaveh takes a breath, then releases it all. “I’m going to go home now.”
The traveler nods. They part amicably and with compassion for each other. Kaveh feels cared for by those eyes traveler shares with him. Eye contact communicates so much.
His heavy feet carry him back home, returning with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest. It follows him into the next day.
Sketching meaningless arches and haphazard lines, Kaveh begins to describe the scene of a building on paper. It’s not a building worth anything, it’s not even a plan he’ll go through with, but it’s something for his hands to do while his mind stews restlessly. Kaveh is restless.
He wants to beat this energy back with a broom but he broke the handle off the one he was using to sweep the floors with this morning; again, restless and stewing. Now Kaveh is broomless.
With a long leg, Kaveh pushes himself back against the chair. Toying with a pencil in his other hand, his lip begins to run away with him, thoughtless words manifesting aloud, “My emotions are exhausting me.” He declares to his empty room. His voice has no sound.
His chest has not calmed even once that evening, restless. Its thrumming is beginning to hurt. He tires of it immensely.
Kaveh relieves his hand of the pins stuck in that arch of his wrist. Dreadful carpal tunnel. It’s painful, but it’s only a sore muscle. There’s no blood, nothing to clean.
What do you do with such heavy dredges of exhaustion? Do you give up? Give up what, Kaveh wonders. Feeling? Is that what’s causing this ache?
How does he get his energy back? Where does it even come from, his fantasy? If he were to fulfill a single fantasy, which would he wish for? Is it even possible? Is there anyone able to hold him?
Kaveh’s lip wavers. He misses his mom. She would’ve held him, never minding his big age.
Kaveh’s back aches. He won’t be doing today he decides. This is a clear sign that he should rest and recover, collect himself and try again tomorrow.
Touching a hand to his cheek and feeling dust, Kaveh musters up the energy for a shower. He does not past Alhaitham on the way to the bathroom but the study’s door is closed. A feeling passes through him that he does not choose to identify.
His shower is long, empty eyes staring at tile, zoning in and out of momentary thoughts and nothingness. By the time the soap is rinsed off his hair is dry and brittle. He conditions again and tries not to wash it all out this time.
He dries himself with a towel and washes his face with a bar and cloth. Dry face calls for moisturizer but he’s out and too afraid to ask for a new one. This was a gift for his birthday. He’ll just have to wait for the next one.
His clothes stick to his damp body but he is uncaring. His heavy feet carry him from the bathroom through his heavy door and deliver him to his bed.
The sheets are cold, cotton that clings to the open window’s drifting breeze. It’s perfect when Kaveh’s hot skin needs to regulate itself in his sleep, but to crawl into it with wet hair and sensitive legs, all he feels is uncomfortable. The hair on his arm itches from being clean but it’s necessary. He smells good now.
Kaveh reaches for his pillow, fingers plucking at its corners, pushing and pulling those sunken divots out. He tugs it under his arm before falling into its belly. He feels the way he catches his wrist just beneath the pillow, it stings. Everything is seeming to annoy him at the moment.
Lumpy pillows and itchy legs aside, Kaveh is not upset. He is the furthest thing from it. What would there to even be upset about? Kaveh can’t think up a single thing, so clearly he’s fine.
Instead, of trying to think up things to upset himself, he has dreams. Every night when he can’t sleep he fantasizes. It’s easy, he just thinks about what he wants most in the world and it sends him right to sleep. Tonight, he fantasizes about Alhaitham.
That face, staring at him.
The flat ground beneath his back is warm and without rubble. There is a smell in the air, moist like fresh dew, yet dry like sun spots. His hand flexes by his leg. Feeling the ground, he brushes his fingers through the grass finding dirt. His lashes twitch.
The dirt smoothes into dust between his fingertips. His cheek pulses beneath a blinking light. Wiping the dust off on his leg, his lashes lift.
He squints. The blinking sun leaves him the minute he sits up, back bending forward as he grasps his cheek. He pulls his hand away, coming back with nothing. He is clean.
In some nameless wood, among uncharted trees and unfamiliar birds, there is peace; Kaveh witnesses it. The sun sprays through flat tree heads, littering the paved dry dirt with spots of warmth. Blue flowers and green bushes make up a path, avoiding porcelain rock and brown stone.
It is quiet of noise but loud with nature.
Reaching his hand behind himself he feels it, the presence of another, someone’s thick body. A hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining, only to pull him back into their embrace.
Kaveh watches his world tilt as his view of the forest is stolen from him and replaced with the sight of green eyes. A smooth face, a familiar face that is showing him an unfamiliar expression, sees him.
Would Alhaitham ever look at Kaveh so sweetly, and even more, hold his eyes for this long?
Kaveh’s body feels alight, rushed with electricity lying in his chest, pulsing with the beat of his heart. The effect is the same, this is Alhaitham.
Unable to breathe, Kaveh says nothing. Unnecessary, it seems, Alhaitham pays him his attention anyway. Kaveh doesn’t even have to speak.
Alhaitham’s hand moves to the rhythm of Kaveh’s heart, finding the point of his pulse every time with a frightening accuracy. His brow, his cheek, the bow of his lip, down the line of his neck til he’s holding his shoulders with a broad arm like a warm blanket.
This must be fantasy. Kaveh wants to wake up from this, it’s not realistic at all. This will only complicate things, cause unnecessary expectations. But he can’t bring himself to remove the arms around him, or to break from the eye contact.
He is held, Kaveh breathes, and it remains.
He will be exhausted when he wakes from this.
But it’s dark tonight so nothing can erase this view he sees behind his eyelids. In the escape of his mind he sees Alhaitham with fondness. He feels Alhaitham’s fingers trace patterns across his collar bone and rub circles into the knots around his shoulder.
Looking up at the world from upside down makes even Alhaitham’s usually pouting face look like it’s smiling. A hand tilts his face til the world sits right again. Kaveh has only half a mind to adjust with as the rest is instantly stolen—by a kiss.
It’s sudden, it’s unexpected, unplanned. Kaveh wasn’t going to think it, but it still happened. As if Alhaitham had motive, Kaveh was kissed. He is being kissed.
For some reason he can’t quite feel it. Kaveh has always been able to rely on his imagination but right now it fails him. He has no idea what a kiss with Alhaitham would feel like. So he can only watch the motions happen to him and ache for the missing feeling against his face.
It’s, dissatisfying. How frustrating.
He realizes avidly that he is maddeningly awake. Perhaps he was awake the entire time just to have that dream. It begs a question, is such a fantasy even polite?
These are big expectations to have for a person, but to desire these things is terribly human. Kaveh can only desire what he knows exists, what he knows people are capable of. Kaveh is capable of this, he dreams of it all. He walks past Alhaitham and thinks it like breathing. He is capable of being so loving if Alhaitham would enjoy it. Maybe Alhaitham has simply never been introduced to affection like this?
An epiphany crosses the front of his mind. Alhaitham has never experienced what Kaveh desires, how could he know how to supply it? How could he know to even want it? What if Alhaitham does want these things, he just doesn’t know these things exist?
After the initial rush of discovery a wave of exhaustion hits him. For tomorrow, his brain supplies, he will start tomorrow and he will be loving as he desires and teach Alhaitham what is possible. He will be loving as he desires.
Fast asleep he falls. And then the day comes.
He awakes to Alhaitham, a face in his staring at him with eyes he cannot read.
“You fell asleep early. Do you want something from lambad? I don’t feel like cooking today.”
Kaveh can’t even feel the hunger in his belly yet. The moment between sleep and wake is the only time Kaveh feels desire for nothing. He is content, perfectly. But he answers what Alhaitham wants to hear, “Something with bread, and chicken, red sauce.” Kaveh’s lip feels wet. How embarrassing. “Please.” He uses his politeness to erase his shame.
Alhaitham makes no other noises but affirmation, but what usually is a sound of retreat, is instead the sound of steady breathing and a staying body. Alhaitham does not leave. Is there something else he needs?
Kaveh cannot think up anything to give him. His hand moves on its own, with Alhaitham so close and accessible he finds no barrier from taking what he wants from him. Connection. His hand balls up on his thigh, finger beds brushing the seam as his hand goes limp. Kaveh does not move. Nor does Alhaitham. No one says a thing and Kaveh falls back fast.
By the time his eyes peel open, Alhaitham has moved. His bedroom door opens to his walking figure, bringing bags of food and a mini table. Alhaitham sets up shop on the floor beside his bed.
Kaveh watches his fingers open the bags and ruffle through paper, taking out bowls and trays and bread. There’s a cold drink on the edge of the table. Iced Tea.
Kaveh can feel his heart start to beat and his nose twitch, he can feel the hunger beginning to rise. His appetite grows as he watches with anticipation. Eyes focused on those hands and that nose, that flat face betraying nothing. For once Kaveh does not feel fear staring at it, he feels nothing but calm.
“Food time.” Alhaitham says. It sounds silly, Alhaitham looks excited and childish on his floor. Kaveh’s cheek is hanging off the edge of his bed, lazy lashes peeling back to watch Alhaitham’s body sway and move and stretch as he sets up utensils. Kaveh’s fork is placed on his corner. It’s his favorite fork. Is this love?
This gentle knowing of each other, this closeness. Alhaitham chose to eat with him, sit with him and prepare this for him simply to be with him. Is this love? Can Kaveh find proof in this and calm his fearful heart. Can he be vulnerable now? Can he be loving without rejection? Is he allowed to show his gratitude? Can he pull Alhaitham’s cheek over and press a kiss to the crown of his head, to run a palm down his spine and thank him with a lazy press of his noggin against Alhaitham’s head? Can he do that now or will Alhaitham reject him again? Is he safe? How will he know unless he tries and fails? It’s sad to anticipate failure. Kaveh is sad.
“Your food is warm.” Alhaitham interrupts, taking bites of his meal.
Kaveh is hungry. He pushes down all his thoughts, feelings, and desires and instead, chooses the hunger in his belly.
“You can sit with me.” Alhaitham’s voice cuts through the fog of unwrapping his sandwich. Taking the permission as a command Kaveh finds himself sitting on the hard floor instead of his comfy bed. But there’s Alhaitham sitting right next to him. Large figure radiating warmth, Kaveh feels the gravitational pull to his bicep. Chewing lazily at bread and lettuce, trying to find the meat, he feels his body give in to its orbit. His head meets the flesh of Alhaitham’s shoulder. He feels it go stiff.
But then something funny happens. Life goes on. Alhaitham continues to eat. Kaveh finds the chicken in his sandwich, and no one is told to move. Kaveh doesn’t mind the rustling as Alhaitham bends to catch his fork in his mouth, and Alhaitham says nothing about the weight against him. Kaveh feels tears bud in his eyes but with years of practice and skill, they do not fall nor does Alhaitham ever find out they existed. And the world keeps spinning.