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After drowning out a bottle of wine, Kaveh’s cheeks would flush red and his laughter would float delightfully though Lambad’s Tavern, features relaxed rather than scrunched up in worry like they were for the most part of his days.
Sprawling blonde hair dishevelled by drunken dancing, lips tinted with a Merlot, voice slightly slurred as he attempted to excitedly fit more words in his mouth that there was space for: he was utterly beautiful.
Alhaitham often caught himself staring.
“Hey, heart eyes,” Sethos called, waving a hand over his face with a highly amused grin on his face. “Can you at least pretend you care about anyone other than your boyfriend?”
“I care about sleeping early,” he replied, unfazed. “And it is almost midnight.”
“So my boyfriend is an old man,” Kaveh chuckled, taking a large gulp from his drink. “Lucky me. Seems he’ll be dead soon, and I’ll get all his money.”
“And here I thought you were a romantic.”
“Don’t get into your married-couple banter, please,” Tighnari huffed.
“They just can’t help it,” Sethos sighed.
Kaveh grunted. “Funny. So funny.” His face was distorted into a frown as he looked at them in feigned disapproval and then, after a long moment of silence, he burst into sudden and ravenous laughter that left him choking for air while everyone else blinked at the sight.
Tighnari quietly pulled the alcohol away from Kaveh’s side of the table, switching it for a glass of water.
“Seems you’ve had quite enough,” Alhaitham observed, raising an eyebrow. “You won’t get my inheritance if you die from an alcoholic overdose.”
“Oh, shut it.”
“We’re going home.” He stood up in a second, ignoring Kaveh’s pout as he pulled out a mountain of coins from his mora pouch. “Unless you want to stay and pay your own tab.”
“How romantic,” Sethos cooed, stifling a laugh. “Let your boyfriend take you home, Kaveh. He’s so caring.”
“Caring! Ha!” Kaveh took a swivel of his water, and the confused grimace on his face told Alhaitham that he had expected it to be wine. “It’s like you don’t know him at all.”
“Yes, we know you know him better than anyone, Kaveh, no need to keep repeating it,” Tighnari replied, dryly. “Oh, you don't know Haitham well enough! He definitely has a personality, it's just such a big personality… Most people wouldn't get it, only I do!”
“Stop distorting my quotes and taking them out of context!” Kaveh snapped, standing up in a frenzy which caused him to stumble back, overtaken by dizziness. Alhaitham instantly brought an arm around his torso to keep him from falling.
“Goodnight, lovebirds.” Tighnari waved, chuckling at their proximity. “Alhaitham gonna carry you home, hm?”
“I can walk!”
“He cannot,” Alhaitham stated.
He couldn’t. He had to cling to Alhaitham’s neck as they made their way along the cobblestones, mumbling something about a recent client whose aesthetic eye should be criminalised, or the tone of green in the houses’ roofs.
“Night, Haitham,” he breathed out as he was gently placed on his bed, yawn stuck in his throat and eyes drooping adorably.
“Goodnight.”
The sort of comment directed at them at the tavern was nothing unusual: Alhaitham had long grown used to his relationship with Kaveh being mocked as that of lovebirds, sweethearts, disgusting couple!, and even Lambad had once called out to him, Come get your husband!
It was all an elaborate joke, obviously. They had never crossed the threshold of purely platonic friendship, but their behaviour was naturally often perceived as a little… well, unusual. They lived together, they were always in each other’s company, Alhaitham paid his tabs, they’d known each other for years, etc etc.
He didn’t mind. At all. He’d been in love with Kaveh for too many years to remember when exactly the “fall” had even happened, so being referred to as his lover brought nothing but a swell of delicious hope to his chest. If even their friends saw the bond between them as romantic, perhaps Kaveh could too, one day.
“Alhaitham!” Kaveh snapped, stomping into the Scribe’s office without a single knock.
Or, well, perhaps Kaveh would kill him before he could even think of confessing.
“Kaveh,” he replied, calmly.
“Where are my paintings?”
Alhaitham suppressed a smile. “What are you referring to? Did you confuse me for Lord Kusanali, or are you simply unaware that I am incapable or mind-reading?”
“Oh, you…” He inhaled sharply, bringing a hand to his temple. “The paintings on our living room walls. Care to explain why the fuck I came home for lunch today only to find them all gone and replaced with children’s drawings?”
“No, I don’t care to explain.”
“Is this your idea of a funny prank?”
Yes. This was hilarious. And it even managed to give Alhaitham an excuse to pause his working duties.
“Give them back,” Kaveh ordered through gritted teeth.
“Mm.” Alhaitham reclined on his chair, looking up in thought. “I personally think the new pieces match our decor better.”
“Where did you even get kids’ drawings?”
“They were gifted to me. A children’s school class wanted to thank me for saving the Dendro Archon.”
“They don’t know who they’re grateful to,” Kaveh hissed, pointing a finger at Alhaitham’s face. “I will end you. I’m gonna start greying from how much you stress me the fuck out.”
“You stress yourself enough already. I hardly think my contributions make a significant difference.”
“You’re supposed to not stress me out!” Kaveh exclaimed, stepping down hard. It reminded Alhaitham of an angry bunny. “What a terrible boyfriend you are, huh? Bet Tighnari would be disappointed to hear this.”
Alhaitham blinked.
“You don’t deserve me,” he added, crossing his arms. “I’m breaking up with you.”
For once, Alhaitham found himself at a loss for words. Why would he say that? Their ‘relationship’ was nothing more than a joke, and Kaveh looked genuinely pressed to some extent, so it made little sense to joke in a moment like this. His expression betrayed nothing but fury, and Alhaitham irrationally felt his chest constrict with panic.
“And for the record,” Kaveh spat, leaning over until their eyes were close enough to send Alhaitham’s heart fluttering, “it’s not me. It’s you.”
He snorted and turned around triumphantly, pausing at the exit to rub salt in the wound before slamming the door: “There will be revenge!”
Left alone and silent in his office, Alhaitham looked down to find that his fingers were trembling, and his mind seemed to be stuck in a loop of what what what what what what what what what what what—
Had they been a couple this whole time? And Alhaitham was just idiotically propelling the ‘joke’ along when Kaveh had played into his sweetest dream, of being loved back by the golden senior he’d been yearning for ever since he was too small for Akademiya robes?
He stood up in an instant, heart throbbing along every corner of his body as if it had grown to the point of engulfing the whole of him. He could barely hear his own thoughts along the swarm of voices suddenly rushing through his head one million times per second, repeating loudly: your boyfriend, my boyfriend (from Kaveh’s mouth), boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend.
From a young age, Alhaitham had struggled with social cues. He had largely improved to the point of near-mastery, at least in his opinion, after dutiful years at the Akademiya documenting and analysing how other people acted. From what he understood, relationships were generally decided explicitly, and people didn’t call each other “boyfriend” without having agreed that that was what both parties wanted.
And yet… his and Kaveh’s communication had never been exactly optimal, and that term was used so often… Perhaps he had really missed a crucial hint.
Leaving the office abruptly, Alhaitham ignored his secretary’s confused calls and made a beeline for his house, eyes frozen into eerie stillness. This couldn’t be.
Kaveh wasn’t home. If they had been a couple and they were breaking up, would he move out? Alhaitham felt bile climb up his throat at the thought. How had he taken Kaveh’s company for granted? He could find another house at any point now that his debt was nearly settled, so why had he not?
Alhaitham had thought it was because of their friendship. But puzzle pieces were slotting into place at the realisation that their feelings were… mutual.
Taking down the framed drawings with shaking hands, Alhaitham carefully replaced them with the skillful paintings he’d concealed within his wardrobe, then paced around the house with a frown between his eyes.
What now? The life he’d craved had been in his hands for a fleeting moment and he hadn’t even noticed, and now it was gone. This was no way to lose Kaveh. He’d let it happen once, and he wouldn’t let it happen again.
Kaveh’s belongings were still dotting every part of the house, from his hair clips on the kitchen counter to his blueprints neatly stacked on his desk. He’d certainly return, even if just to pack everything up, so Alhaitham had to be prepared for how to apologise.
At no point had he considered that temporarily hiding Kaveh’s paintings would have such an effect on him— perhaps this was just the last straw? Too many taunts and pranks, to the point where he felt suffocated in their relationship? Nausea scratched at Alhaitham’s stomach. He bickered with Kaveh to force him to externalise his thoughts rather than keep them bottled within his chest (and because it was fun), but it seemed to have had the opposite effect: frustrated Kaveh to his limit.
He could fix this. He would fix this. Even if it meant swallowing his pride.
Sighing, Kaveh stepped out of his shoes by the front door, finally home after a day filled with too many inefficient meetings. The only fun part had been confronting Alhaitham and mocking him at lunchtime, but now his mouth was dry and his stomach was grunting in emptiness, so he was glad to see the kitchen lights on.
“Hi,” he greeted half-heartedly.
Alhaitham spun towards him with too-widened eyes, stepping to cover something with his back.
“What’s that?” Kaveh crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “I saw our living room art is back to normal. Glad to see you were finally enlightened by reason.”
Wordlessly, Alhaitham picked whatever object was behind him and turned around, presenting to Kaveh a… cake.
A decorated cake. As in, decorated by hands that were clearly amateurish and mediocre in their skill, but a considerable amount of effort seemed to have been put into it. It was covered in white frosting and red and golden swirls, with tiny deformed flowers on the top. It read, in scarlet letters: I’m sorry.
Kaveh blinked. “There’s plenty of cream inside,” Alhaitham stated, swallowing thickly. If Kaveh didn’t know any better, he’d think Alhaitham looked almost… nervous.
“Um. Are you— Is this about… the prank?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it made you genuinely upset.”
Taking a moment to carefully analyse the situation, Kaveh wondered if this was Alhaitham’s idea of an even more elaborate prank. They didn’t do apologies: it simply didn’t fit their dynamic. And yet, Alhaitham looked the perfect image of honesty, standing in front of him while holding a cake he’d spent hours on.
He looked like a wet cat, waiting for Kaveh’s verdict.
“I don’t want us to break up,” Alhaitham added, and it threw Kaveh’s heart into a somersault, because why was he saying that with a serious face? “You’re the most important person in my life. I want to be your safe space. If I truly stress you out too much, I’ll tone it down.”
“What?” Kaveh’s jaw had dropped. When had Alhaitham ever said anything as affectionate as that? And so… romantic? “You…”
“I love you,” Alhaitham uttered, looking down at the cake. “Do you think you could forgive me?”
Kaveh’s blood was rushing deliciously through his body— was this Alhaitham’s way of confessing? Did he reciprocate the feelings Kaveh kept carefully hidden beneath sneers and frowns?
“Is this… a prank?”
Alhaitham’s face dropped into what looked like genuine sadness. “No. I wouldn’t play with your feelings.”
Kaveh couldn’t help but laugh. Not out of amusement, but because this was all he wanted, and it was too good to be true, wasn’t it? Alhaitham really loved him? And he was confessing like this, out of nowhere, bluntly and beautifully just as matched the boy Kaveh had met in the House of Daena so many years before?
“Of course I forgive you,” he breathed, and he felt the desire to jump, leap, dance, laugh, cry. “I— I love you too.”
Shoulders slumping at once, Alhaitham set the cake down and stepped towards him, gaze softening. “May I hug you?”
“Yes.” He felt laughter bubble up his throat again. “Gods, please.”
Alhaitham’s arms embraced him gently and tenderly, skin soft where it pressed against Kaveh’s. He practically melted into that broad chest, mushing his face into the crook of Alhaitham's neck with a content sigh. He smelled like the shampoo they shared, and ink, and old books, and Kaveh inhaled deeply to try to capture that scent and ingrain it into his mind forever.
“So we’re not broken up anymore?” Alhaitham asked, voice small.
That made Kaveh frown. And then, at once, a burst of realisation bombarded his mind as he recalled every instance of referring to Alhaitham as his boyfriend: it had all been a self-indulgent joke, and yet— this whole time, Alhaitham had been taking it seriously?
“Haitham,” he choked out, overcome with pity and guilt and relief and adoration. “We— Were we dating?”
Alhaitham blinked.
“I thought it was a joke,” he mumbled, cheeks blazing furiously in embarrassment as he buried his face further onto Alhaitham’s skin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it was— it was serious. I’d never have said that if I did. I do love you. I don’t want to break up. I want to… to be with you.”
Tears prickled his eyes imagining the reaction he would get, but Alhaitham simply… laughed, chest heaving with a delicious sound he rarely ever got to hear.
“Are you laughing at me?” he sniffled. “I didn’t mean to do it.”
“I’m laughing at us,” Alhaitham replied, bringing a tender hand to caress mussed golden locks. “How about I explain it to you over dinner? A date?”
“Date?” The word sounded delightfully foreign in Alhaitham’s voice.
“It truly is a pity they don’t make you open dictionaries in Kshahrewar. A date is when two people share an activity—”
“Asshole,” Kaveh interrupted, pulling back to narrow his eyes at the man who was now, completely and genuinely, his boyfriend. “Fine. I’ll grant you the honour of a date with me.”
He couldn’t help but grow a smile while saying that, and Alhaitham’s lips curved slightly too. It felt like a moment suspended in time, in the shared kitchen of their shared home.
“I love you,” he blurted out, tongue still not used to the fact that he could say that out loud now.
“I love you too,” Alhaitham stated, like it was a truth universally acknowledged. “Now, do you want to try my cake?”