Work Text:
Kaveh had never been a fan of cheesy photo shoots, especially the kind that celebrated love. He was an artist, a creator, not just some prop to be paired with his rival on a set for others to ogle at. Yet here he was, standing in front of a massive, heart-shaped backdrop, gritting his teeth as Alhaitham adjusted his collar like he was the one who’d volunteered for this bullshit.
"Can we just get this over with?" Kaveh muttered, crossing his arms, while glaring at the floor.
Alhaitham didn't even look up from adjusting his sleeve. "You could at least try to be professional about this."
Kaveh scoffed. "I'm the one who's not professional? Let's talk about how-"
But before he could finish, the photographer, clapped his hands. "Alright, you two, let’s get this Valentine’s magic going! Give me a look of love!"
Kaveh immediately flinched at the words. "I’m not—"
But Alhaitham was already stepping into position next to him, an irritatingly perfect, composed smile on his face. "Try not to ruin the shot, Kaveh," he murmured, and the photo shoot began.
The photographer, glanced at his camera and adjusted the settings. "Alright, let’s get started. Kaveh, Alhaitham—together, please. Try to look at each other with some affection."
Kaveh shot a glare at the photographer, but Alhaitham, ever the professional, took a deliberate step toward him. The movement was smooth, almost rehearsed—until Kaveh saw the slight twitch in Alhaitham’s eyebrow, as if this whole thing was beneath him. The calmness in his expression made Kaveh’s blood boil.
The photographer adjusted his glasses, looking between them. "Alright, Kaveh, you hold the heart-shaped balloon and smile at the camera. Alhaitham, you try to look at him as if you're in love."
Kaveh exhaled sharply, muttering, "Okay, let’s make this quick," as he positioned himself, holding the balloon with a forced smile.
Then, without warning, Kaveh felt Alhaitham’s hand settle lightly on his waist. The touch was simple, yet it burned. Kaveh’s face immediately heated up, his heart skipping a beat. He tried to focus on the camera, but the warmth from Alhaitham’s hand lingered, making it hard to concentrate.
The photographer glanced up from his camera, adjusting the settings. "Alright, for the next shot, Kaveh, hold the balloon like you're offering it to Alhaitham. And, Alhaitham... give him a quick kiss on the lips. Just a light peck, nothing too much. Keep it simple, but make it feel... romantic."
Kaveh’s stomach sank. A kiss? Before he could even react, Alhaitham was already moving, stepping into his personal space with deliberate calmness.
Kaveh's pulse quickened. Alhaitham’s hand found its way to Kaveh’s waist, just lightly resting there, but it felt like a spark had been lit between them. Kaveh’s body went rigid, eyes darting between the photographer’s eager expression and the man standing so close to him. Alhaitham’s touch was light, yet it burned, setting every nerve on edge.
Then, without any warning, Alhaitham leaned in. His lips brushed against Kaveh’s—soft, quick, almost too brief to register, but the moment they touched, Kaveh’s breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t like anything he had expected. He barely had time to process the sensation before Alhaitham pulled back, his face as unreadable as ever.
The photographer, oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere, clapped his hands. "Great! That’s the shot! Perfect, perfect!"
Kaveh didn’t move. He stood frozen, balloon still clutched in his hand, his heart pounding louder than he wanted to admit. The kiss had been nothing—just a moment of a photo shoot—but for some reason, Kaveh couldn’t shake the warmth that had spread across his chest, the way his body seemed to hum with it.
Alhaitham stepped away, his usual calm still intact, but there was something about the way he looked at Kaveh now, something sharper, more focused.
Kaveh tried to smile, but the expression felt forced, too stiff. "Yeah, great," he said, but his voice came out a little too thick. He quickly glanced away, trying to regain some composure.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It was just a kiss. It was just part of the shoot. Right?
But no matter how many times Kaveh told himself that, the taste of Alhaitham’s lips lingered far longer than he wanted to admit
The day ended, and Kaveh now found himself tossing and turning in bed, unable to shake the memory of the kiss.
It was just a quick kiss, Kaveh tried to remind himself. Just a dumb photo shoot thing. It didn’t mean anything.
But every time he closed his eyes, the image of Alhaitham’s face so close to his, his lips pressing lightly against Kaveh’s, played in his mind. He could still feel the faint warmth of his lips. His body was on fire, and his head couldn’t stop racing.
Why did it matter? Kaveh didn’t even like Alhaitham that way. They were rivals—nothing more, nothing less. So why did his heart feel like it was about to jump out of his chest every time he thought about it?
Maybe he was just overreacting. But the way Alhaitham had looked at him—like there was something deeper to that kiss, something more than just a part of the shoot—was messing with his head.
Kaveh groaned, throwing his blanket off and sitting up. He was getting nowhere. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became.
"I’m such an idiot," he muttered to himself, pressing his fingers to his forehead. "It was just a kiss. Just a dumb, quick kiss."
But no matter how many times he said that, his brain kept circling back to the way Alhaitham had touched him, how his lips had felt against his skin. It didn’t make sense
The next day, Kaveh walked into the studio with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The kiss from yesterday had replayed in his mind over and over—he couldn’t escape it. And now, he had to face Alhaitham again. The problem was, Alhaitham didn’t seem affected. Of course, he wouldn’t be. Alhaitham was always calm, always in control. That kiss had probably meant nothing to him.
Kaveh wasn’t so sure anymore. But he couldn’t think about that. Not now. He couldn’t afford to.
When he entered the studio, Alhaitham was already there, adjusting a few props. Kaveh tried not to look at him, but his gaze kept drifting toward the other man, as though his presence alone was enough to pull Kaveh's attention. He could feel his chest tighten, his pulse quicken—this is so stupid, he thought.
Alhaitham barely looked up when Kaveh walked in, offering only a quick nod in acknowledgment before going back to what he was doing. The ease with which Alhaitham moved—so casual, so indifferent—made Kaveh’s frustration grow. Why couldn’t he be like that? So unaffected, so distant?
Kaveh forced himself to focus on the props, rearranging them slightly, anything to avoid meeting Alhaitham’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, but he couldn’t seem to shake the weird, uneasy feeling. He had to keep his distance today. He couldn’t let whatever was happening between them affect the shoot.
"Hey," Kaveh muttered after a moment, his voice unusually quiet. He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "Do you think the shoot went well yesterday?"
Alhaitham glanced at him, his expression neutral. “It went fine. The photographer was satisfied.”
Kaveh nodded, but his fingers were twitching around a prop in his hands. His nerves were all over the place. There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them. Kaveh didn’t know how to fill it. His mind was too preoccupied with everything but the shoot. He felt too aware of Alhaitham’s presence, too aware of how different things felt after yesterday. The warmth of Alhaitham’s hand on his waist, the way his gaze had lingered on him… Kaveh shook his head, pushing the thoughts away.
"So..." Kaveh started again, but the words didn’t come out the way he wanted. "Do you think, um... the photographer will be happy with the next shots?" He hadn’t meant to ask that. It was a pointless question, but it was the only thing he could think of to break the awkwardness.
Alhaitham’s gaze flickered to him again, but this time, it lingered for a fraction longer. He seemed to notice the change in Kaveh’s demeanor, but didn’t comment on it immediately. Instead, he nodded. “He’ll be fine. Just focus on the shoot.”
Kaveh’s response was a simple, forced “yeah,” but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Alhaitham was watching him a little too closely now. Kaveh had always been the one to pick a fight, always the one to snap back with a sharp comment, but today he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His usual personality was gone, replaced by a quiet uncertainty that felt alien.
The next few shots went by in a blur. Kaveh did his part mechanically, barely reacting to Alhaitham’s comments or the photographer’s directions. He wasn’t even paying attention when they set up for the next round of photos. It was all happening too quickly, and Kaveh could feel his mind drifting.
By the end of the shoot, Kaveh felt mentally exhausted, like he’d been holding his breath the entire time. He hadn’t said much, barely interacting with Alhaitham beyond the bare minimum needed for the shoot. And somehow, that only made everything feel worse. It felt like the silence between them had stretched longer than it should have.
When Kaveh turned to leave, his bag slung over his shoulder, Alhaitham stopped him. “Kaveh.”
Kaveh froze, his back to Alhaitham, but he didn’t turn around. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of Alhaitham’s stare, but he couldn’t bring himself to face him.
“What’s going on with you?” Alhaitham asked, his voice softer than usual, as it carried a quiet edge of concern. “You’ve been off all day.”
Kaveh stayed silent, his hands tightening on the strap of his bag. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words felt stuck. He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. It was all too confusing.
Alhaitham stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Kaveh,” he repeated, his voice gentler now. “Talk to me.”
For a moment, Kaveh considered pushing past him, pretending like everything was fine. But something about the way Alhaitham was looking at him made him pause. He wasn’t used to this. Alhaitham wasn’t normally the one to ask questions, to worry about anything like this.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Kaveh muttered, not fully believing his own words. He sighed and finally turned around, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. “I’m just... tired.”
Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he gave Kaveh a long, thoughtful look.
“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll finish this shoot tomorrow,” Alhaitham said, his tone smooth, though there was something softer underneath it.
Kaveh nodded quickly, unable to bring himself to say anything else. He left the studio, the weight of the day’s unspoken tension still lingering.
Tomorrow would be the last day of the shoot. And for some reason, Kaveh wasn’t sure if he was ready to face whatever might come next.
The final day of the shoot arrived, and Kaveh could feel the tension building in his chest. Today, they were supposed to do a romantic picnic scene—romantic, perfectly romantic, just like the rest of this stupid Valentine’s shoot. And of course, it had to end with him lying on the grass, under Alhaitham.
Kaveh hated how his stomach twisted at the thought. He’d barely gotten through the previous day without falling apart. Today? He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it together. His mind kept racing back to the kiss from the day before. It had been nothing, right? Just for the shoot. But why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? Why was his heart still thumping in his chest just thinking about the brief, tender contact?
He couldn’t focus. It wasn’t like him to be this off-balance, especially not with Alhaitham. They hate each other. Their whole dynamic was built on banter, on sharp words, and cold stares. There was no room for feelings beyond that.
When he arrived at the set, everything was set up perfectly. The soft glow of the golden hour sunlight bathed the picnic setup in warm light, making it feel like a scene straight out of a romance novel. It made Kaveh want to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel... a little bit nervous.
Alhaitham was already there, standing by the picnic blanket, looking perfectly at ease in a simple but undeniably sharp outfit. Kaveh tried not to look too closely at him, but his gaze wandered anyway. He felt like an idiot for even noticing how good Alhaitham looked in those clothes—why did it matter?
"Kaveh," Alhaitham said, his tone as neutral as ever, but there was something sharp in his voice when he saw the way Kaveh was standing, looking a little too lost in thought. "You okay?"
Kaveh forced a smile, even though he could feel the anxiety creeping up on him again. "Yeah, yeah. Just ready to get this over with." He adjusted his shirt, suddenly feeling too warm. "Let's just get it done."
The photographer clapped his hands and immediately gave instructions. "Alright, Kaveh, take a seat on the blanket. Alhaitham, lie next to him, with your head resting on his chest. Get cozy, like it’s a real romantic moment."
Kaveh froze at the instructions, his mind immediately blanking. Lie under Alhaitham?
He looked at the blanket, trying to breathe. "Uh... sure. Yeah, sounds fine."
But as they got into position, something in Kaveh’s chest tightened. He was lying down now, with Alhaitham beside him. The proximity was unbearable, and Kaveh could feel the warmth of Alhaitham’s body so close, the faint scent of his cologne filling the space between them.
Alhaitham shifted slightly, his hand coming to rest on Kaveh’s shoulder, and Kaveh could feel his heartbeat hammering in his ears. His mouth was dry. This wasn’t working. It wasn’t like a normal shoot anymore; it felt too real, too close. His breathing quickened. The moment the photographer said, "Okay, now kiss him," Kaveh felt himself freeze entirely.
A kiss? They were supposed to kiss now?
Kaveh shot up, unable to control the panic surging through him. "I—I need to go to the bathroom," he blurted, as his words jumbled. "I’ll be back. Just… just a second."
Without waiting for a response, he stumbled off the set, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind a blur of panic. He shoved open the bathroom door and slammed it shut behind him, breathing hard as he leaned against the sink.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Alhaitham had no reason to mean anything. It was just for the shoot, right? It couldn't be anything more. They were rivals—nothing more, nothing less. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. There was no way he could be.
This was just a shoot. He shouldn't be feeling this way. He hated how Alhaitham’s presence made his heart race, how his calm, collected demeanor made everything feel ten times worse. It wasn’t supposed to matter, but somehow, it did.
Kaveh froze when he heard the bathroom door open, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t expected to see Alhaitham standing there, his usual impassive expression in place.
"What's wrong, Kaveh?" Alhaitham’s voice was sharp, a little too cold. "We need to finish this shoot, so stop being so dramatic."
Dramatic? Kaveh could feel his anger rising, his frustration from the last few days bubbling up to the surface. Alhaitham had been on his mind nonstop—his stupid kiss, the sharp angles of his annoyingly perfect face, and that infuriating calmness that always made Kaveh feel like he was the one losing control. And now Alhaitham was calling him dramatic?
Kaveh snapped, his voice loud, “Me? Overdramatic? You have no idea how hard I’ve been trying to keep this under control! I hate you. I hate everything about you, and for some reason, you’re all I’ve been thinking about for the past two nights. So forgive me if I’m a little dramatic for your taste!”
Alhaitham blinked, obviously taken aback by the outburst. “You what?”
Kaveh’s face turned scarlet as the weight of his own words hit him. No, no, no... He immediately regretted it. “Wait, no—I didn’t mean—”
Before Kaveh could dig himself deeper, Alhaitham stepped forward, cutting him off with a quiet, commanding tone, “Just... stop talking for once.”
And then, in one smooth motion, Alhaitham kissed him.
This kiss was different than the one at the photoshoot—far more intense, more urgent, more desperate. Alhaitham’s lips crashed into Kaveh’s with a force that made his heart stutter, and Kaveh could feel everything inside him snapping. When Kaveh finally pulled away to gasp for air, Alhaitham followed, pressing their mouths together again, refusing to let him go. Kaveh kissed back, hard and fierce, his hands reaching for Alhaitham, gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, deeper.
Kaveh had never considered himself a bad kisser—after all, he was a model, used to getting attention. But Alhaitham? Alhaitham was a force. The way his lips moved, the way his tongue coaxed Kaveh’s, it was like he was burning through every wall Kaveh had tried to build around himself. It was dizzying, overwhelming, and Kaveh felt like he was drowning in it.
When Alhaitham traced his tongue along Kaveh’s lower lip, Kaveh’s breath hitched, and just when it seemed like he was about to lose himself completely, he pulled away, his chest heaving. “We... still have the shoot,” he said, his voice shaky, strained.
Alhaitham didn’t answer right away. He just stood there, his own breath heavy, eyes dark with something Kaveh couldn’t quite place. Then, with a sharp exhale, he nodded, stepping back with an almost reluctant grace. He ran a hand through his hair, fixing his composure with effort, but Kaveh could still see the heat in his eyes, the unspoken challenge lingering between them.
And as the final photos were taken, Kaveh couldn’t shake the feeling that the tension was far from over