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 where Kaveh borrows Alhaitham’s strength, relishing in the ability to not have to stand all on his own.
He leans a cheek against the wide expanse of Alhaitham’s back, feeling the taut muscle beneath. Warm and comfortable, Kaveh rubs a soft hand down Alhaitham’s spine and feels him shiver. A hand rubs his leg then pokes him in the cheek, Kaveh turns to it. There’s a spoon and a hand ready to catch a mess. Kaveh gives it a taste. It tastes like Alhaitham’s favorite vegetables and Kaveh’s favorite sauce.
“Beautifully made, a real work of art Alhaitham. You’ve outdone yourself.” He doesn’t hear the smile Alhaitham is wearing but he feels the little dance his hips do and it has Kaveh’s heart swelling.
Kaveh hears the sound of the knob turn, heat on low, and then Alhaitham turns in his arms. Face to face Kaveh sees the brilliance of Alhaitham’s smile. His eyes watch him, Kaveh sees them flit across his face, cataloguing and breathing it in. They land on his eyes, holding him pinned there under his soft stare. Then, together, they blink, slowly, and open at the same time.
Kaveh wants to kiss him. So he does. And Alhaitham kisses him back. A hand comes up Kaveh’s spine, soft and large, it finds its way to the back of his neck, easing the ache out of the base of his skull. Kaveh breathes, lungs expanding, giving himself the courage to kiss with passion and tongue. Alhaitham lets him, then he bites his lip and pulls away.
Kaveh stares at him dazedly. Alhaitham smiles back at him, rubbing his thumb across his face. He kisses his cheek, soft and long, then turns back to the stove.
Kaveh breathes through the content sigh in his chest, unable to purr or find any other way to express just how full he feels. It’s like a dream. It probably is.
He squeezes Alhaitham’s chest for extra measure, relishing in the dramatic wheeze Alhaitham gives him for it.
It’s times like these where Kaveh thinks of other moments he’s grateful for, like last night.
Alhaitham had come to him, sad yet frustrated tears in his eyes, defeat in his jaw, and asked for his help. Kaveh felt his heart swell at the sight, at those tears staring at him, hand gripped tight in his shirt. He knew exactly how to help Alhaitham, how to help carry the burden that eats at him when he sleeps and scares him when he wakes.
Alhaitham cries easily these days, looks for Kaveh when he misses him and asks for help when he needs it, and because of this he never stresses. It makes Kaveh’s life a dream.
And it gives Kaveh the confidence to lean back.
Kaveh braces exhaustion and Alhaitham with a careful watch guides his shoulders into his palms. With compassion, he gathers him into a secure hug. His hand holds Kaveh’s head to his breast, fingers splayed wide searching to hold the entire expanse, to hold as much as he can. Kaveh feels gathered, feels safe, feels held. He lets himself cry into the heavy embrace.
And later that night, Alhaitham crawls into Kaveh’s bed, warm with trepidation, he curls around him. Then sometime in the night he pulls himself onto Kaveh’s heart and Kaveh holds him back. They switch til morning.
Alhaitham watches clarity flutter Kaveh’s lashes and rubs a comforting hand to his back, easing him into it, into wakefulness. Kaveh makes a long noise like a stretching whine and uses it to wake up his aching bones. Alhaitham kisses him, accompanying the tingling stagnation his body flits through.
His breath is warm and hot and human but Kaveh doesn’t mind, because he is safe. And this is proof of it.
The room melts as Kaveh continues to think, to remember.
“Hello there.” Kaveh smiles at the lump on the couch, soft cheek pulling.
Alhaitham breathes, eyes twitching up against the sun, just to get a glimpse of Kaveh. Sweet guy.
“Hello back.” He says.
Kaveh wants to do something to show how much love is gathered in his chest right now just from watching him, but he doesn’t know what would make Alhaitham understand best.
“You look comfortable.” Kaveh delivers, insight and empathy. Then he gives him touch, a gentle hand on his chest as he sits by him on the couch, giving him company.
Kaveh presses a kiss to his fingers and touches those fingers to Alhaitham’s pulse. He would do anything to express just how the very sight of Alhaitham makes him feel. Something in his unyielding gaze makes Kaveh feel like maybe he gets it, maybe he has these moments too. Kaveh really hopes he does.
The room bleeds into a dining table and a meal. It’s filled with casual jokes, curious questions, and nostalgic reminiscing, everything Kaveh has only ever dreamt of.
And then he wakes up.
His eyes feel sore and crusty, wetness dripping down the side of his temple when he moves to lean up. The window is closed, there are no birds outside of it. Kaveh breathes, then another, just enough to get him through the trauma of loss he is currently suffering.
How cruel.
What’s the point of fantasy if it’s unreal? He asks himself this question not for the first time, but it comes with a little extra clarity. There is no point, he answers.
So what is he doing here?
He does not answer that, not yet ready to grasp what that truly means. Instead he swings his legs over his bed and pushes himself out of his room.
His eyes glance up, at the sight of Alhaitham cooking at the stove. He feels no pull to hang onto his back. He’d be a burden, he knows this from experience. Alhaitham would not turn in his arms even on this new leg they’ve earned, Kaveh simply doesn’t believe he’s capable of having that thought. What a shame.
Instead, he passes on his left, a lingering hand passing his spine that connects. This is what a year of commitment and energy has earned him. Alhaitham turns to acknowledge him, a faint glance, then goes back to the stove.
But, with a kind voice, Alhaitham asks a question, “Chicken or beef?”
Kaveh mulls it over with the proper intensity the question asks for, and with a hesitant certainty he delivers, “Beef.” Then changes his mind, “Chicken actually. Chicken sounds better.” Kaveh meant to ask what kind of chicken but he’s already answered so he gives up. He accepts the consequences that his decision will have and moves on. He’ll survive.
Alhaitham, with a knowingness, says, “It’s grilled. You sure?”
Kaveh looks at him with no less than a deep stare, passion in his gut, “Beef then, please.” He doesn’t have to survive anymore, maybe he can be happy with third made choices.
Alhaitham does not reciprocate Kaveh’s deep stare nor even understand the intensity in his gaze but Kaveh will not hold it against him, he’s already working on stuffing down the want in his throat before he realizes there is any other option.
To be honest with himself and no one else, Kaveh admits, he is distrustful of this new chance. He knows Alhaitham is willing to try things he never wanted to before, like kissing and holding hands sometimes, but he never does anything unless Kaveh asks. More importantly, he has yet to share the intensity that Kaveh feels. Most days it doesn’t feel like it’s what he even wants.
Kaveh has tried to ignore the thoughts, tried to ignore the anxiety and wistful yearning, but most days he doesn’t want to. He feels a little more keen on listening to his heart as of late, letting his feelings bubble up to the surface when he doesn’t agree with keeping them down.
He doesn’t trust Alhaitham’s capability with them but sometimes he tests him. It just sucks that he fails like every single test.
Whether Alhaitham is Kaveh’s favorite student or not, it’s true that he just does not have the capacity to understand Kaveh’s lessons. But he’s willing. Kaveh feels like that shouldn’t be enough. Saajid was willing too. And now Kaveh is unhappy and disgusted with himself so he ignores the rest of that train of thought.
He’s just losing it, the strength, the patience, the desire. Looking at Alhaitham, Kaveh doesn’t feel it.
Kaveh stares at him now; at the side of his face and the things he used to think were so pretty. He feels nothing. There’s no fear because he’s holding it behind his teeth with promises of “he didn’t mean it”, but there’s no desire either. Not being able to feel his feelings properly around Alhaitham is leading to consequences.
Kaveh only predicted this, but there is nothing he can do to stop it.
Instead he remembers last night. He remembers begging Alhaitham into his bed, looking for connection and to fulfill a fantasy. He remembers missing his mother and speaking endlessly of her to a man who could not grasp her importance.
He tried.
Alhaitham changed the subject and interrupted a little.
Kaveh did not feel like he was heard properly.
It’s that feeling that turned Kaveh on his side, desperate to save himself the pain of letting it slide. He did not have the words to explain how he felt to Alhaitham. He did not have the patience to tell him he even was hurt. All he had was a turned back and tears in his throat.
He missed his mother so dearly. All it took was a look from her and she would know exactly what he needed. He’s so vividly imagining it, her hands, that he flinches when something touches him.
It’s a clumsy hand that Alhaitham touches Kaveh with.
Instantly he feels his body relax beneath the weight of his palm despite how awkward it feels and all of his bubbling emotions sink into the bed beneath him, before they grab Kaveh by the throat and force him to look himself in the eye.
All he can think is was it so hard? Was it so hard? Why couldn’t you have done this sooner?
With a clumsy hand Alhaitham touches Kaveh. And all Kaveh can think is that it’s too late.
His face hurts, the lump in his throat builds in his eyes as tears tickle his nose. Alhaitham will never know how hard Kaveh cried that day because he never asked. How much relief entered his body and swept right through him, out and away and never to return. All that remains now is guilt and dread and a third feeling Kaveh cannot describe.
Something worse than sorrow.
Why couldn’t Alhaitham have learned to comfort him sooner? Why did it take til Kaveh had given up? Why’d he have to give up? He can’t find the energy to muster up any more hope. This is where it must end, right as they’ve started to progress.
That thought sits with him, even as he stands achingly, nursing a cup of milk and honey. Is this really the end to his feelings? Right as Alhaitham has shown something, a flinch, a touch. Kaveh can’t even, begin to describe to himself the feeling that incites. He can’t even feel it. Numb and exhausted, that’s all he’s got. Those are his only emotions left.
Accepting that thought, Kaveh continues. He eats with Alhaitham, something amicable and tangibly friendly. Alhaitham and Kaveh say goodbye to each other, heading out for work. Then they return. Alhaitham asks a question Kaveh could never deny and Kaveh has an epiphany on the couch while they wait for the credits to end.
As Kaveh sits there, exhausted again from not being able to give because he’s still not receiving enough and still begging, he realizes what the problem is.
In the quiet stillness between them, Kaveh interrupts, “Do you love me?”
Alhaitham jolts, “What?” He turns a little slowly, almost incredulous, “Why would you ask me that, I just brought you dinner and put on a movie you like?”
He says, like that’s his only proof of love, maybe the only proof he’s capable. Poor guy. It’s not his fault Kaveh’s so needy.
“I’d like to hear it,” Kaveh explains with a flat face, “please.”
Too tired to shift his emotions clearly, he feels his eyes grow lidded.
Alhaitham sits, mute, then, “You know I don’t like to say it like that.” Kaveh knows, but he’s begging. “It’s an important expression, I should say it when I feel it.” Alhaitham finishes reasonably.
A rejection, as expected.
And yet,,,Kaveh’s throat opens, “The love I feel for you is constant.” Kaveh breathes, “there is never a moment where I feel incapable of saying I love you and meaning it.” His lashes stuck on Alhaitham’s face do not stutter, “Truly feeling it.”
Alhaitham looks uncomfortable. He looks close to saying that that’s where they differ and giving Kaveh another reason to think that maybe they don’t match. He can barely hold Kaveh’s eyes.
“If there is a relationship,” Kaveh recites, “where love and I coexist,” he watches recognition dawn, “it is this one.” He finishes. “Do you remember saying this to me? I was so excited, just by the sheer romance of it.” He smiles. “But I think, you’re still learning what love is. I don’t think you grasp it yet. So I understand that you cannot say you love me, because you don’t know what that feels like yet.” Alhaitham’s face falls, “and that’s okay.” Kaveh rushes to reassure. “It’s okay if it takes you time.”
I just don’t know how much longer I’ve got in me to wait, goes unsaid.
Kaveh gives what little assurance he can, to help nourish Alhaitham’s fragile heart. Perhaps Kaveh will get to witness Alhaitham’s love one day. He just hopes he can feel it when the time comes. He can see it in the distance, feel it in the edges of his dreams, he is starting to lose his appetite.