Archive of Our Own

It had been a while since Kaveh had walked through the bazar in such a good mood.

Really, he was even tempted to buy some celebratory snacks he could nibble on later at night. Perhaps he would even allow himself to eat in bed, as a treat. One he, in his own very objective opinion, rightfully deserved:

The final draft for his current project sat client-approved in his suitcase, with no further major hurdles to be expected before construction could begin.

Mehrak beeped cheerily at him as he handed it the little bag of fruit he had decided on purchasing: One apple, two zaytun peaches, two sunsettias. A third sunsettia had been slipped in with his purchase, “For your handsome friend, bring him with you again soon!”, the kind auntie manning the stall smiled at him. Kaveh’s pleasant smile skewed into grimace-territory.

Ah, right. For some reason unbeknownst to him, Alhaitham had a way with elderly ladies. The aunties in their neighborhood were especially taken with him, frequently bringing over leftovers and little gifts, squeezing his cheeks and, on one memorable occasion, ruffling his hair.

Well, yes, they liked Kaveh as well, sure, but really, what was it with that guy?

Kaveh had asked him once and just received a noncommittal ‘I’m not doing anything’ in return. Bullshit. That lazy man loved the free meals that, most importantly, he didn’t have to cook himself. No matter what he did, he did it on purpose.

He awkwardly thanked the sweet lady in Alhaitham’s stead. Whatever spell his housemate worked on her last time they went to the bazar together, Kaveh wasn’t sure, but he didn’t have it in him to break that poor auntie’s idea of the obnoxious man. At the very least, Kaveh got some free fruits out of him. 

(Why he deluded himself into thinking it would be him getting to eat the extra fruit was, retrospectively, a little beyond him. He didn't even like sunsettias all that much, damn it! Why in the world did he buy them again?!) 

No matter the awkward encounter, Kaveh decided that his mood would not be dampened as he moved on to the spice stall. The meeting he had just come back from had went well enough to have him grinning a toothy, genuine smile once he exited the lavish office.

His current client was a filthy rich merchant, already living in one of the most expensive and beautiful areas of Sumeru -

‘A summer house’, he had told Kaveh at their first meeting with grandeur, voice drowning in the comforts of a wealthy life, ‘Pools, palms, warm tones. I want it to feel just as warm as the rays of the sun on your skin’.

And if Kaveh was good at one thing, it was working with feelings. (Professionally, as an architect. Not recreationally.)

So, when the first draft had been returned with only a few minor changes requested, mind you all reasonable and turned into second draft within a day (if you thought a day to end at the break of the next dawn), Kaveh could not quite believe his luck. An agreeable client? On such a grand project?

It was almost suspicious, honestly: A payment offer well beyond his price range, a kind and uncomplicated client and a beautiful vision to boot?

Now, that sounded either like an architect’s wet dream or the next scam Alhaitham would mock him for falling for.

Oh, Kaveh was going to enjoy rubbing this one in his face. A gleeful, anticipatory smile involuntarily took over his expression. (Tighnari once told him that he smiled weirdly when talking about Alhaitham. Kaveh did not share his opinion. No, he did not talk to a mirror to check.)

That second draft? Not only approved at today’s meeting, the client had even already handed him a hefty downpayment for his ‘quick and wonderful work’. Take that, Alhaitham! Some people still held appreciation for artistry in their hearts, after all.

Kave looked up to find the spice merchant regarding him with concern.

Ah.

A tired-looking man silently grinning at a bag of turmeric for a minute probably looked a little strange. Gods, this was awkward. Kaveh quickly schooled his face and paid for the little satchel, lest the merchant thought he was about to steal it.

As he exited the bazar, with only having to collect some coffee beans at Puspa Café before he could finally get to go home, he let his mind wander a little. It had been a while since he had such a lucrative project lined up. Granted, much longer still since one of them actually paid off. The amount of money being carried around by Mehrak right now was more than he had in his possession for months.

Back when he had first spotted the proposed sum in the letter his client had sent him, the one predating their first meeting, he had to look twice. This amount of money– well, at the very least, it would allow him to buy some small apartment. Perhaps even a house. And wasn’t that a strange thought? 

Kaveh breathed in the warm evening air of Sumeru City. He exhaled a sigh.

From the moment he had moved in with Alhaitham, he had dreamed of the day he could finally pack his bags and leave. A place of his own; no books strewn about, no stolen coffee cups in the mornings, and most importantly, no teasing remarks scrutinizing his every action. Honestly, he should have been jumping in joy at the prospect of standing on his own two feet again.

The joy just never quite sank in. He had assumed it was just his subconscious being cautious: The client could still back out, leave him back at square one. But now?

Really, Kaveh wanted to grab his own head and shake it, to try and get whatever stubborn neurons that still wouldn’t get with the program to finally get it together.

The pretty sum in his suitcase, along with the rest of it promised to follow, made him giddy.

Why, then, did the thought of using it to move out seem to dampen his mood?

Ugh. Kaveh shook his head. One of his hairclips had come lose sometime earlier.

Archons, I shouldn’t get so worked up about this.

His mouth set with resolve as he (attempted) to fix the mess he fashioned a hairstyle. The day would come, and by then all the enthusiasm he felt during the Interdarshan Championship would be back in full force. He was sure of it.

It was only with a slightly forced spring in his step that he rounded the corner to Puspa Café, the homey smell of coffee wrapping around him as if to push those uncomfortable thoughts far, far away.

The small tabby cat he remembered almost tripping him during last weeks groceries trotted past, and- what.

 – Now, he did not consider his eyesight to be immaculate: Over the years, the beautiful patterns of the skylight in the House of Daena turned a little blurry. Which, if he may add, is a perfectly normal part of life, thank you very much! But he certainly did not need glasses.

(Just because someone had lucky genetics and the eyes of an eagle at their age did not mean Kaveh was ‘getting old so quickly, should we be looking into retirement homes already?’)

Still, he might have to go and take Alhaitham up on that offer, because either he was suffering severe acute vision impairment or behind the busy mass of people doing their evening shopping, just by the bulletin board in front of the café, there was Alhaitham wearing his official Akademiya-mandated work uniform.

A situation bordering nigh on impossible.

That man showed up to official functions in skintight, see-through, sleeveless turtlenecks. Not that Kaveh paid special mind to that, of course. But in all the years Kaveh had known Alhaitham as the Scribe, only once had he seen the other wear the robes he was, technically, contractually obligated to wear: The day his resignation as Acting Grand Sage was approved, and they wanted one last picture of him for the records.

But, unless he should rather look into seeing a psychiatrist than an optometrist, he would recognize that strange leaf-like cowlick anywhere.

As he got closer, he briefly wondered whether he had been drunk enough to be posting on the bulletin board as of recent. The scribe loved replying to whatever drunken ramblings Kaveh had felt important enough to share with rational scrutiny - a clearly disadvantaged match of wits, if you asked him.  Either way, Kaveh should really just get him away from that weapon of mass destruction (of his reputation); Alhaitham and bulletin boards did not bode well. That jerk was probably about to make all of Sumeru City privy to that time he accidentally put salt into his coffee last week or something.

Just as he was reasonably close enough to call out to him and the sea of people appeared to part between them, Kaveh stopped dead in his tracks; abruptly enough to feel Mehrak barely floating into his hair as it beeped in surprise.

Alhaitham was… small. Not just that: The angle of his nose and the curve of his jaw were noticeably softer. His hair was shorter, too, more orderly. And perhaps Kaveh should, indeed, look into seeing a psychiatrist–

Because this Alhaitham he had last seen during late nights spent at the House of Daena, back when ‘pulling an all-nighter’ for a project had meant the accompaniment of a cranky Haravatat student ribbing him about his poor time-management while fighting sleep across from him.

Really, he was stuck in a place somewhere between fascinated and panicked, because his roommate had been replaced by the much softer 14-year-old version of him, but also this was young Alhaitham; his Akademiya junior standing there, scrutinizing the bulletin board, and ah, now that uniform made so much more sense, too.

Kaveh assumed he had been staring in wide-eyed shock for a moment too long, and who could blame him, when this walking memory of a person lifted his gaze to look straight at him. Despite much more important matters at hand, the first thing Kaveh thought of was how much rounder his eyes had been back then. His cheeks, too.

Briefly, he felt relieved at how young this Alhaitham was. It must have been several years before they had parted ways. He wondered whether he would still recognize him; perhaps it was an exclusively physical change, too. If not, then… he certainly hoped he had aged well in the eyes of a kid.

“Senior Kaveh…?”, the voice he heard was so very familiar, yet such a far cry from the much deeper one he got to hear nagging him every day. The relief he felt at being recognized was overshadowed by the tightening of a knot in his stomach. In painful contrast to the memories welling up within him, he could not fathom feeling angry at this child.

One thing, at least, was confirmed: With how formal and respectfully he had been addressed, this seemed to indeed just be the little Alhaitham he had known years ago standing across from him. The comforting smile he aimed for ended up somewhere south of nervous. Man, why did he feel like Alhaitham was so much calmer about this than him?

Little Alhaitham’s eyes momentarily flickered to where Mehrak was floating next to him in wonder, before landing squarely back on him.

“I had already assumed that I’m not… in ‘my’ present right now. Judging by the store opening advertisements, by, well… several years,” the briefest bout of nervosity washed over his usually so impassive face, prompting Kaveh to take a few steps closer. “I’m glad to see you, senior. Do you know what this is? Is this common in your future?”

Sure, sure, alright. Great to know that at least one of them was not losing their nerve right now.

While Kaveh could appreciate the rationality, it made him feel like he was losing it. What do you even say to a kid transported into the future, away from their normal life, aside from comforting them? Truthfully, he would not expect anything else of Alhaitham, child or not – but faced with the relatively calm eyes of a kid in a positively, surely, dire situation, he was seriously considering the stability of his emotional landscape. (If the adult Alhaitham in his mind could stop cackling, that would be awesome.)

Not to mention the sheer whiplash he was currently experiencing talking to this so much sweeter version of his obnoxious roommate. This was… a lot to process.

Kaveh chuckled around a jittery exhale, “Hah, no, certainly not. Honestly? I haven’t the slightest clue what’s going on.”

Looking down at Alhaitham like this felt so very strange. Their height difference was even more aggravated right now than it had been back then.

“I- uh. How long have you been here?” He tried bending down just slightly. The kind tone of the words in his mouth tasted foreign, and he realized he had forgotten how he used to speak to his… friend, back then.

Little Alhaitham nodded hard enough for his little leaf strand to bob along emphatically.

“Just a barely an hour, I think,” he looked around at the café patrons and people passing by, “Though I can’t quite pinpoint the moment this happened. The only sudden difference I noticed was my Akasha terminal turning off – it’s still not working.”

Ah. Well.

That would take a while to explain, wouldn’t it.

“That’s- normal, I suppose?” whatever constituted ‘normal’ in this scenario, “We don’t have the Akasha anymore, it’s a long story,” the curiosity burning in little Alhaitham’s eyes made it terribly hard for Kaveh to deny him any further explanation. Weirdly enough, this specific look he was quite familiar with from his Alhaitham, just in a less unbridled variant.

(His Alhaitham. One part of his brain, the one he liked to call rational, was currently beating the other part up for that horrendous phrasing.)

“Actually, I think I know where to go with you,” the architect watched from above, with silent amusement, how that leaf-like antenna almost appeared to straighten to attention. He remembered being a little fascinated with it, back then. “We’re going to pay a visit to Lesser Lord Kusanali. I’m sure she’ll be able to help you get back to where you belong.”

Good job, Kaveh. Look at him getting a grip.

Kaveh was wholly unprepared for the shocked expression he would receive for his suggestion. The bruised and battered part of his brain spent the next few seconds mapping that look onto adult Alhaitham’s face.

Little Alhaitham cleared his throat before he spoke. “Lesser Lord Kusanali? She’s… taking visitors? How did –“

“AH-haha,” his own face mirrored the surprise he had seen seconds earlier, “I- uh, kind of forgot about that, sorry,” Kaveh had to stop his questions, lest they would be stuck in front of the bulletin board going over the past decade of Sumerian history. “I can explain it to you later, alright?”

A shame though, really. Although Kaveh would never admit it to adult Alhaitham, he had, well, missed talking to him – without their differences weighing on them. Little Alhaitham wasn’t yet aware of the wedge that would one day be driven between him and his senior. So, as much as Kaveh did not want himself to be feel as reminiscent as he did, right now he would gladly play pretend with this memory a little longer.

Alas, this was unfortunately not the moment to address his latent, repressed yearning for the friendship they once had, “I think we should try and get to her rather sooner than later. Knowing the ley lines, or whatever caused this, I don’t want to imagine the effects that prolonging this, uh, situation might have.”

As unhappy as his little roommate must have been with being denied a scholarly exposition into the future, he only gave him a polite and understanding nod.

How nice. At some point, Alhaitham had known when Kaveh was right.

They began their trek up the winding roads of Sumeru City, with Kaveh having to deliberately slow his brisk pace to prevent the young Alhaitham from having to skip into an awkward speed-walk. Usually, this walk involved Kaveh telling himself that he should be exercising more, and then promptly (and deliberately, in protest) forgetting once Alhaitham told him the same. It was strange how used to it he had gotten, truly: Enough to consciously take notice of the absence of a dark form in his peripheral and the odd sound of Alhaitham’s metal soles on the stone tiles.

The idle beep boop of Mehrak floating next to him reminded Kaveh of the groceries the suitcase was still ‘carrying’.

“Hey, would you mind if I set off these bags at home first?” he vaguely gestured towards where he assumed them to be levitating. “Don’t worry, our house is practically on the way,” he awkwardly scratched his neck, just succeeding in dislodging yet more of his hairclips, “Mehrak isn’t able to open doors yet.”

Alhaitham only hm-ed in agreement. His eyes were once again glued to the floating suitcase in badly hidden fascination, “…Little light, huh?”

Kaveh laughed, only a little surprised. Of course Alhaitham would know that ancient tongue, even back then – before just now, though, he had never commented on the name.

“Did you build it?” Along with the question, the architect found Alhaitham’s eyes, just as striking of a color as he was familiar with, regarding him with burning intensity. Kaveh gave a sheepish chuckle while nodding his head.

As weird as it probably was, receiving this open of admiration from Alhaitham for once felt… nice. Usually, whatever compliments he paid were either beautifully wrapped insults with a bow on top or delivered with enough dry sarcasm to have Kaveh only registering them as one when he laid in bed at night, turning over their day’s conversation in his mind.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I’m quite proud of it. It makes for a great assistant!” which, if you asked him, was a grave understatement. Mehrak was such an essential part of his everyday life that it had grown attached to Alhaitham of all people; it was near him enough to follow the other man around on its own volition – a fact Alhaitham liked to rub in his face sometimes.

As silence once again filled the air between them, little Alhaitham’s expression turned contemplative.

“You said ‘our’ house,” and based on his tone of voice, Kaveh realized that Alhaitham already knew the answer to whatever question would follow. Adult Alhaitham still did this spiel, too, sometimes. Though he did it when he was being a jerk.

“Who do you live with?”

Kaveh sighed. Briefly, he did contemplate lying, making up some spouse or any other roommate, really, but what was the point? Like he knew Alhaitham and his own luck, that guy would have left one of the books of his private collection on their side table, one of those rare ones he kept from his grandmother’s shelves or something. Try explaining that away as a coincidence, especially to a mind as sharp as this. No chance.

He ended up awkwardly looking away, disguised as focusing on the last ramp up to their house he knew he could walk blind. “Ah, it’s you,” Kaveh mercifully thought that he managed to sound properly neutral. “Well, the adult version of you.”

A quiet oh is all he received in acknowledgement. Kaveh exhaled some of the tension that had taken over his body. See, wasn’t too hard. Now as long as little Alhaitham did not ask about the why, everything was great. He wasn’t too keen on having to explain to his adoring junior that no, the budding Light of Kshahrewar did not make a fortune and build himself a pretty house, but instead had to rely on charity to get by.

Thankfully, today he quickly found his keys in his belt pocket as they broke off the main path that went up to the Akademiya.

Then, little Alhaitham cleared his throat.

He received absolutely no further warning for the verbal equivalent of a sledgehammer to his knee that followed.

“When did we start dating?”

The clattering of keys falling to the floor had Kaveh grateful that Alhaitham had at least waited until after they had crossed that last bridge. Small mercies. The strangled sound, however, he could not prevent coming out of his throat. Whether the coughing fit that followed was due to having briefly forgotten not to inhale while swallowing or just to buy some time to think of a reply that was half-way coherent, he was unsure.

The coughing devolved into a scratchy, awkward chuckle as he bent down to pick his keys back up.

“We-,” another cough, “we never did. Aren’t, I mean. Aren’t planning to…?”

Awkwardly smiling down at the other, with his face hopefully not as red as it felt, Kaveh thought he must have been imagining the disappointed look in young Alhaitham’s eyes. It went away just as quickly as it came, anyways.

“I see. So, we just live together as friends?”

Kaveh really, really fought hard to not groan loudly. If someone put a youth spell on Alhaitham to torture him, personally, then congratulations: Kaveh felt sufficiently tortured.

His chuckles were starting to sound terribly fake to his own ears, “Yes. You could say that.”

Putting the key in the keyhole almost felt like respite – Kaveh had told Alhaitham to just wait out front, I’ll be back in barely a minute. In truth, he just needed a few seconds to recover from whatever that was.

Mehrak followed closely behind him as he pushed the door open, maneuvering the grocery bags around with a precision that made pride well up in his heart.

And retrospectively, it was quite fortunate that it hadn’t been him holding the groceries, because his keys once again made friendly contact with the floor.

“Alhaitham?!”

There, perched on one of the divans in their living room, sat Alhaitham, adult Alhaitham, languidly reading a book just like any other day. He looked at him in mild annoyance, as if he was the weird one for overreacting, completely unbefitting the fact that on the divan to his side there sat… Kaveh himself, in his student uniform?!

“Hello to you too, Kaveh.”

That bastard.

For a moment he just stood in the doorway, mouth open in utter bewilderment and, quite frankly, struggling to process this development. So not only was there an extra Alhaitham, not just a younger version to have replaced him, but there was also another him? Kaveh briefly considered walking out the door and checking himself into the bimarstan, because how was Alhaitham so calm about this?

Said other version of him had looked up from his sketchbook the moment he had made his ‘dramatic entrance’, as Alhaitham would put it. From this distance, he could make out the unmistakable (and painfully handsome) profile of his roommate beginning to take form on the paper; a subject he himself was shamefully doodling more than he would like.

“So you’re me,” he was being pointed at with the pencil that had just been sketching Alhaitham, “in… what, 10 years?” Man, Kaveh had not missed being in the middle of his voice break. The hairstyle he had back then though… Perhaps he should be growing out his hair again.

Alhaitham finally seemed to resign himself to his reading time being over for now and closed his book, “15, actually,” and Kaveh was torn between feeling called old or taking the approximation by his younger self as a compliment. The former quickly won over once he heard younger him muttering something about ‘in his thirties’.

But before he could demand any explanation as to why Alhaitham was just sitting there, with the younger him as if everything was normal, a voice piped up from behind him.

“Senior Kaveh?” Young Alhaitham stepped into the entrance area next to him. “I thought I heard you talking,” and Kaveh didn’t even know who he was addressing. This at least, he thought with no small amount of delight, appeared to have adult Alhaitham just a little surprised.

“Haitham!” and god, it had been ages since he called him that. It felt so weird to hear it now, real and right in front of him, when nowadays it was only at night, within the sweet dreams of his student years he dared call to him so fondly.

(And also, if Tighnari was to be trusted, when he got too drunk while complaining about his roommate. Not his fault – his name was just a mouthful for the inebriated, that was all.)

Younger him put his pocket sketchbook aside, making absolutely no move to hide what was on the most recent page, he didn’t even close it, damn it. And why was that embarrassing Kaveh as it did?

“You’re here, too? Man, I’m so glad. I was worried you might have been sad if I hadn’t shown up in the library tonight.”

How was that his first worry in this situation?! What had been wrong with Kaveh back then?

Looking to his side when he heard no reply, he, to his great amusement, found both Alhaithams(?) locked in a staring match. Whatever telepathic communication went on between them, Kaveh hadn’t the slightest clue, but it ended with young Alhaitham hesitantly nodding in greeting? And adult Alhaitham nodding back? What was this, a business meeting?!

After this brief bout of Alhaitham-to-Alhaitham communication, little Alhaitham went to go sit next to his senior, who had been insistently patting the space on the divan next to him. This effectively left Kaveh standing alone in the doorway, his lion keychain pitifully staring up at him from the floor. A tired groan was all he could muster in face of this absolute absurdity.

“Now would you mind,” and only now he finally shut the door which had been left standing open all this time, “explaining why you are just peacefully sitting here? I would hope you to have at least consulted Lesser Lord Kusanali – that’s what we were on our way to do.” Despite how he crossed his arms in frustration, he knew the answer to his question before Alhaitham could even say anything. He was an infuriating, infuriating man – but Kaveh knew him to be anything but an idiot.

Alhaitham exhaled a puff of air, closing his eyes as he crossed his arms in that irritating, sagely way of his.

“An apt idea – that’s where we, in fact, came from mere minutes ago,” his aloof hand gestures made Kaveh feel very strong things. The maddening way the other looked at him from his perch on the divan once he deigned opening his eyes did not help.

Thankfully, the gods had some mercy on him today and let Alhaitham elaborate without Kaveh having to go on a verbal goose chase with him.

“In short, she is not overly concerned. When she saw him, she found him not strongly connected to this timeline at all. In her words, whatever force put him here is already slowly pulling him back again – he should return within a day or two.”

The Scribe’s gaze fell onto the two students sitting in their living room, who had been following their exchange with rapt attention.

“I would assume the same goes for him,” accompanied by a gesture to little Alhaitham and a slightly perturbed facial expression, “well, me.”

Kaveh could not help but exhale in relief at this; it meant that there would be an end to this madness. “And until then, we just…?” he hoped the sweeping motion of his arms vaguely pointing at the house around them got his point across.

Alhaitham nodded, “I suppose it would be the safest, yes.” His gaze fell back onto Kaveh, “One more thing: Lord Kusanali advised me to avoid giving him any more information than unavoidable about this future. She fears that it could influence his actions, leading to a different future for him and causing the branches of Irminsul to twist in on themselves.”

The admonishing look Alhaitham graced him with Kaveh deemed wholly undeserved: He would by no means willingly go against the word of their Archon.

“That means, to avoid any risk to our own timeline: No word of our lives or the state of Teyvat to either of them.” His eyes swept across their living room, “Aside from the obvious, of course.”

And, really, this should not have made Kaveh feel as relieved as it did. At the very least, it would save him the shame of having to explain the trajectory of his life to his younger self’s still bright and hopeful eyes.

How fortunate, then, that he hadn’t given into little Alhaitham’s questions earlier. He sighed as he walked towards the only divan still empty, shuddering just a little at the potential havoc his reminiscence with an old(?) friend could have wreaked on this world.

As he let himself plop down onto the cushions, he suddenly grateful for the offensively patterned pillow the Scribe had recently declared a piece of their home inventory. As long as he did not have to look at it, it made for a comfortable backrest.

In stark contrast to just barely an hour ago, Kaveh wanted nothing more than to just go to bed now; Screw dinner and a pleasant evening relaxing in their living room.

All these memories and feelings he usually gave a wide berth in his mind, only occasionally poked at by Alhaitham at remarkably decreasing frequency, suddenly felt like they sat right in front of him. And, well. They did.

It made him think of the times when he, just like younger him did right now, could tug his now-roommate by the arm and show him his latest design. And that now-roommate would make some horrendous, artistically unsound observations, all while his eyes lingered on all the details and thoughts Kaveh made sure to put to paper, anyways.

It made him feel terribly much like he was missing a person that did not exist anymore. Well, aside from the artistically unsound observations. Those certainly were alive and well.

…getting himself a glass of wine now, at this hour of the day, would not look all too nice in front of his younger self, right…?

Sigh.

No, whatever unpleasant feelings he was dealing with right now, he would have to deal with stone cold sober. Though, perhaps, he could convince Alhaitham to split a bottle with him over dinner… That should not be too strange. They did that frequently.

The quiet voices of the students sitting across from his brought him out of his thoughts. He didn’t even remember closing his eyes.

“Hey, is that… me?” the sound of the sketchbook pages flipping stopped. “I didn’t even know you were at the House of Daena that day. Why didn’t you wake me?”

Thankfully disguised by the much louder chuckle of his younger self, he could not hide a small noise of amusement. Kaveh knew exactly which sketch his little junior had just found.

It was almost strange how vividly he recalled that scene: The evening sun, filtered through the glass ceiling of the grand library, gently lit up an Alhaitham who was passed out on top of some book surely heavier than his head. How could he have woken him, when the rare sight of his junior’s cheek smooshed against the pages and the peaceful look that had replaced the sternness other students deemed unfit for his age made his heart melt just so.

Naturally, it was immortalized in his sketchbook. From several angles, if memory served him right. That sketchbook, along with all others he had ever owned, safely rested in a box at the back of his wardrobe: They were some of the few items he hadn’t sold. ‘Priceless’ likely was an apt descriptor. Granted, ‘private’ was, too.

“Why should I have?”

As he opened his eyes, he found his teenage mirror image grinning down at the scrawny boy Alhaitham had been back then. He had yet to reach his growth spurt, so Kaveh did have the luxury of being able to see the top of his head for another year or two.

“You were sleeping so soundly. I bet you spent your whole night reading again, so of course, being a good senior, I had to make sure that you’re getting at least some rest.”

Little Alhaitham only raised a brow, just how he did nowadays when he thought Kaveh’s arguments to be far-fetched.

“And ‘being a good senior’ also necessitates drawing me sleeping, yes?”, he crossed his arms and looked thoroughly unimpressed. “That’s quite weird, senior, don’t you think?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could spot his roommate sitting as still as he was, watching this scene play out before them. It was almost as if they had forgotten about the presence of other people in the room.

Briefly, Kaveh wondered whether they really had been like that. It did feel a little different from his own perception, viewing them interact from the outside. Had others seen them like this, too?

Kaveh also just remembered that in this timeline, Alhaitham had never gotten to see those drawings. Shit. Adult Alhaitham would very much be using this against him some time in the future.

He consoled himself with the fact that it could have been worse. At least he had not seen the drawings of him in his current sketchbook. Still, he only resisted burrowing his head in his hands with a groan in the interest of not disturbing the interaction in front of him. Though, honestly, maybe he should have.

The younger him bumped his shoulder against the other’s with a sly look on his face, “Oh, but my dear Haitham, you can’t be finding me that weird if we end up together.”

Alright. Now he really could not keep his face straight.

Why him, too?! He should know himself better than that, right?

But before he could, once again, clear up this horrible misunderstanding, student Alhaitham beat him to it. Only logical he took a little longer, considering the mental whiplash he had to recover from.

With just the same impassive face, but the tips of his ears looking suspiciously pinker than before, he tilted his head, “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

Kaveh squinted – as if little Alhaitham hadn’t assumed the very same thing. Well, he supposed, at least the teenage version of his roommate saw reason.

“Well, for one, we live together,” and the younger him was shaking his head now, as if Alhaitham was the unreasonable one (and he was, 99% of the time. Just for the record.) “And why would you be living together with anyone otherwise?”

“Well, apparently, senior, friends can live together just as well.” Little Alhaitham’s mouth twitched up a little bit in a self-satisfied smirk. He had always liked being right. “You yourself told me so, you know.” He gestured to the no doubt still stunned looking adult Kaveh.

Younger him mirrored his flabberghasted look, with the added reddening of his cheeks, as if he had just now remembered his very presence.

And now, his roommate finally deigned saying something, too.

“So much for not saying anything about our lives, hm?”

“Well, what did you expect me to say?!” Kaveh puffed up, wondering why he had for even a moment hoped that this jerk would be helping him in this situation. “He asked, and it’s not like I can just say nothing!”

“You can say nothing. In theory at least. That’s what I did, after all.” The architect regretted ever asking, with how smug the other looked.

An eyeroll was the only appropriate reaction, really. “Oh, of course you would say that. Well, some of us do value normal conversation, thank you,” Kaveh leveled the socially incompetent blockhead to his left with an unimpressed stare. “And really, what does that particular information matter anyways? I’d wager it’d be worse to just let them assume.”

The corner of Alhaitham’s mouth twitched upwards. “Are you implying that not knowing which kind of relationship we would find ourselves in in the future would have changed how we acted back then?” And they both knew what specific ‘back then’ he was talking about, “My, Kaveh, I hadn’t known you had been able to look into the future. Mind sharing your insights?”

Kaveh wanted to ‘share’ a pillow to his infuriating face.

“I am implying that they’d be assuming the wrong thing.”

Evidently so. Kaveh knew that Alhaitham knew, and Alhaitham knew just that, too. He was simply being pedantic for the sake of getting under his skin – his favorite sport, the architect would bet, right after those extensive upper body exercises he sometimes insisted on doing in their living room.

Now, his roommate’s mouth turned neutral again. “Isn’t it normal to make assumptions about your future?”

The look in Alhaitham’s eyes gave him pause. It reminded him of how the other had looked at him when he woke up with his head on the living room desk, once, blueprints strewn about and Alhaitham hovering over him with a blanket in his hands. They had never mentioned that interaction again.

Before Kaveh could try to make more sense of the emotions he saw in his striking teal eyes than he had back then, it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a simple know-all look, “Their veracity is simply never guaranteed.”

Kaveh stared for a second longer. He knew that whatever Alhaitham had been trying to say just now was buried in the subtext of his words. For once, though, he could not catch it. Perhaps he did not want to look, either.

…

Their younger counterparts still sat there, on that divan, quietly staring at them with owlish eyes.

Right.

Kaveh should get his head out of the clouds. He had a madness to get back to.

Alhaitham, in one of his rare (and very gratifying) shows of awkwardness, cleared his throat.

“Should we have dinner soon?”

Kaveh huffed in exasperation. “If you’re asking whether I should get started on dinner, then yes, I suppose you’re right.” For all his directness, Alhaitham sure loved his roundabout way of asking him to do something. “It’s late after all. Unless you’d like to help?”

Believe him when he says that he reveled in the scrunched look on his roommate’s face.

“…I’ll set the table.” Although he appeared to be in no hurry to do so, as he went to pick his book back up.

Before Kaveh could turn to leave, Alhaitham’s voice pulled him back again. “Actually, do we have enough food for four people?”

“Ah, yes, I’d intended on leaving some leftovers for tomorrow, so it’s more than enough.” Though he would likely have to go back to the bazar tomorrow if they were to remain 4 people. Although, perhaps, he could convince Alhaitham to go this time…

“Um, should we help, too?” little Kaveh piped up from his spot on the divan. “I hope we’re not too much trouble.”

Was it strange to call your younger self ‘such a good child’? Surely it was. Anyways.

“No,” he shook his head, “don’t worry. I’d be cooking today, anyways.” And glad about that they should be, Kaveh thought quietly. He could not complain about the taste of Alhaitham’s food, really, but the presentation was… unorthodox, perhaps, his younger self would say. Bland, he would say.

Little him appeared content with that answer, “Alright. Thank you.” Though Kaveh knew himself enough to know the lingering awkwardness he must be feeling at being cooked for at another’s(?) house.

Kaveh caught little Alhaitham smiling the tiniest of smiles before he finally left for the kitchen.

-

Sometime later, after he had already set the rice to boil, Alhaitham joined him in the kitchen. The crinkling of the paper bag on the table had Kaveh briefly hoping that the other might be putting away the groceries.

“Did you forget the coffee?”

Of course.

“Well excuse me, I had certain other issues coming up.”

He turned around to point an accusatory ladle at him, and was pleasantly surprised to find Alhaitham actually putting away the bread he had bought.

The other simply hummed in response while casting a briefly confused glance at the very much unneeded satchel of turmeric he was putting in their spice cabinet. Kaveh felt inclined to ask about the origin of this unprompted helpfulness.

“You stood right outside of Puspa Café,” he said instead in hopes of not needing to explain the story behind his turmeric shopping choices. “I thought they’d somehow managed to put you in your work uniform again for a minute, you know.”

That got Alhaitham’s quiet expression to crack into a smirk. In a fleeting thought, the likes of which he tended to shove far, far away as soon as they came, he found himself quite liking the look of it. Purely aesthetical appreciation, he would like to reason.

“Heh. Are you quite sure you don’t need glasses?” Forget what he said. He did not like that smirk. “Those robes don’t even look similar.”

“Oh, will you shut it?” He accidentally flicked some sauce across the kitchen with the exasperated movements of his ladle. “I was far away and having student-age you standing there is not the first thing you think of. Come on, don’t tell me you immediately knew what was going on when you found younger me. Where was that, even?”

Alhaitham pointedly followed the trajectory of the sauce droplet with a raised brow. Screw him and his perfect eyes (vision. Eye vision.). “I found you walking out the Akademiya when I was about to clock out. So, I stopped by Lord Kusanali with you, then we headed home.”

Kaveh would like to point out that Alhaitham was definitely avoiding talking about his first reaction to the situation they found themselves in. So, he had been at least a little ruffled. Only because he felt quite graciously disposed towards him after the grocery unpacking did he let it go.

With a hum he turned back around to stir the stew.

“What are they doing right now?” Not for the first time he struggled to wrap his head around the appropriate phrasing, “Well, uh, we…?”

“Still sitting there.” The tell-tale squeaking of the lonely (but artfully crafted, thank you) barstool Kaveh had once picked up from a flea-market told him that Alhaitham was not hasty to return to the living room. “You’re drawing. I gave younger me a book I had been searching for back then.”

What? Kaveh whipped around, ladle this time thankfully left in the pot. How was that not ‘granting access to future information’?!

“Oh, so you’re alright with defying Lord Kusanali’s advice?”

Alhaitham just shrugged his ‘I’ve got everything under control, calm down’-shrug. Smug bastard.

“Please, I would hardly call that book life changing,” his face remained impassive as ever, but his voice betrayed the smirk he was holding back, “Unless you’d consider the second volume of I was turned into a slime and fell in love with a fungus?! to behold the secrets of our future?”

“Pahahah! That’s what you were looking for?”

The smirk finally broke through. “The first one ended on a cliffhanger,” he shrugged, as if that was the strange thing about it all.

Kaveh was too busy laughing to needle him about having avoided the actual question.

After the few minutes he had needed to calm himself in face of this absolute absurdity, he got the rice off of the stove while stifling his dying chuckles.

Amidst the ensuing silence there were the quiet, incomprehensible voices of their younger selves filtering through from the other room.

While he sure felt relieved at being spared from having to disappoint his younger self with his depressing life story, one thought had been nagging at him since he saw the friends they once were.

“Isn’t it strange to see ourselves like this?”

What exactly constituted revealing their future? Seeing these two children so close, it felt intrinsically wrong letting their future play out how he knew it would.

“I know what you’re thinking about. It’s a bad idea.” Of course he would say that.

“How so? We wouldn’t be telling them anything concrete, just giving them… advice.”

“But the point still stands that it would change how they act, no?”

He stubbornly stared at the rice in front of him. He knew it was stupid, really. But it filled him with the phantom sensation of oncoming dread nonetheless.

“…I guess you’re right.” He sighed. “It wouldn’t work, anyways. It’s not like we can change who we are.”

He quietly went to go grab a prettier bowl for the rice.

Alhaitham left to set the table.

-

Dinner was an unusually quiet affair.

Kaveh never quite took note of how much they talked when they ate until now. But every time he found himself about to open his mouth, he had to quickly stop himself from accidentally revealing information about their friends or current Akademiya drama. How relevant that was to their younger selves he could not say, but he decidedly would not chance it.

Really, what would they talk about? They could hardly spend the dinner reminiscing about their past.

At least, Kaveh thought, their younger selves had deigned to fill the silence with their own idle talk. Hearing about their everyday student lives again had him quite wistfully eating his bite-sized chicken.

“Mh, Alhaitham, could you pass me the water?”

“Sure.”

They had stuck to simple water after all. Kaveh did not really feel like wine anymore, strangely enough – it must have been the ever-present reminder of his much more chipper younger self, or something like that.

While he was filling his glass, another voice piped up, a little louder than the quiet talking before.

“Senior Kaveh,” the earnest look he was leveled with melted his heart just the tiniest bit. “Why do you use my full name now?” That same look, though now much more admonishing, was now directed at the younger version of himself as little Alhaitham continued, “I’ve never gotten you to stop calling me Haitham.”

Archons.

What should he even say to that? After short, desperate deliberation he landed on ‘Adults tend to do that’ as his safest option. It didn’t reveal anything relevant, right? And it wasn’t really untrue, either. Honestly, he could not fathom calling the man that Alhaitham was now Haitham to his face. Whether that was entirely due to their fallout, he could not say.

Before he could even begin to awkwardly talk himself out of this, though, the man sitting across from him beat him to it.

“Yes, senior Kaveh,” and oh, that was just unfair now, wasn’t it, “Why don’t you call me Haitham anymore?”

The grin in his voice told Kaveh that the other knew he was being an absolute bastard about this.

“Whatever happened to not saying anything about future happenings, my dear junior?” he grit out around an aggravated grin, because he would not be answering this question now.

Fuck. Looking at his face had been a mistake.

Whoever had decided that it was alright for his eyes to look like that was a sadistic asshole. And surely, unfortunately, an appreciator of the arts.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kaveh saw the younger him looking at him with an expression he did not like.

He took an angry, very long drink of his painfully alcohol-free water.

-

As per their usual quiet agreement, Alhaitham would go on to clean the dishes after dinner.

Not exactly willing to leave their younger selves alone, and not feeling it quite proper either, Kaveh sat with them in the living room.

Little Alhaitham had his nose buried in a book, likely the one his roommate had given him earlier. Really, Kaveh could not keep the grin off of his face at the knowledge that his learned, no-nonsense little junior was reading a romance novel of all things. For all the years he had known him, he had only ever caught him with one or another obscure scientific or philosophical book.

Hm. Had he been deliberately hiding light novels from him? The idea almost made him chuckle. He could have sworn that none of the stray books he had to put back on their shelves had ever been anything the average reader would consider ‘recreational’ reading.

Kaveh was startled out of his thoughts by his own voice.

“It’s so weird seeing grown up versions of yourself,” student him had been sitting next to him for a while. Kaveh noticed him playing with his hair – a habit he had been forced to kick back when he cut it. “Especially Alhaitham. Never thought he’d grow taller than me”

Kaveh quietly nodded. He had assumed that, hadn’t he? In all honestly, though, back then he likely struggled even imagining him grown up at all. He had simply been his junior.

“He’s changed much, hasn’t he,” Kaveh hoped that Alhaitham was immersed enough in his reading to not listen to them. He did have a tendency to get lost in his books back then. Kaveh sighed, “He was so much cuter back then…”

Gods, that sentence felt weird on his tongue. Was it too late to take it back? But he supposed that, well, he himself would at least understand him.

Said younger self just hummed thoughtfully. After a while, he piped back up, “He’s just as cute now, though.”

In an incredible feat of self-control, Kaveh managed to reply at a reasonable volume, “I- What?” Alhaitham would’ve likely given him a funny look for his incredible articulation.

“I mean, sure, he’s much taller now and not as ‘little cute’, you know?” Kaveh could follow this part. “But he still smiles the same. Actually, he smiles a lot more nowadays, doesn’t he?” and well, now that Kaveh thought of it, Alhaitham did get awfully smile-y. At least in the comfort of his own home. But! Let it be known that most of those smiles were of the teasing little shit variety. All of them, actually.

It appeared that younger him was not done yet. Good god.

“I know you think his smile is cute.”

Kaveh opened his mouth in indignation.

“Don’t try to deny it. I am you, remember?”

Well, yes, the genuine one, maybe. Goodness, it was a lot easier to ignore whatever softness he had felt towards the other all the way back then when those feelings weren’t quite literally talking to him.

“Also,” please let it end, “that little hair leaf he has?” Younger him grinned. Kaveh sighed. “I see I needn’t elaborate.”

Alhaitham, and he had not woken up believing he would be thinking this today, walked into the living room like his slightly damp-handed savior.

Little Alhaitham, too, looked up from his book. It was with abject horror that Kaveh saw the tips of his ears to be burning red. He had listened to them after all, hadn’t he? Kaveh resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. Well, at least he had not yet gained his terrible teasing streak back then.

Alhaitham, unaware of the mess of a conversation he had just walked into, sat with them and took back up his book from the table.

For a while, they sat like that in silence. The Alhaithams were reading, younger Kaveh had pulled out his little sketchbook again at some point, and Kaveh was leaning back against that horrible pillow wondering how he would survive the coming days.

What should they even do? Play board games? This all was so terribly absurd. And everyone else seemed so perfectly calm about it. Even younger him?! Did he not have any projects to be working on?

Kaveh let his head fall back onto the mass of pillows behind him.

“How are you not freaking out right now?” he asked no one in particular. But he did hope the student sitting next to him would answer.

“I’d like to think that I would be, were I in your stead.” And, technically, he sort of was in their stead. In a very strange way.

He heard the rustling of what he assumed to be a noncommittal shrug next to him.

“I mean, I had been when I first realized something was wrong,” Kaveh sat back upright to look at him. “Seeing the librarian age a decade in the five minutes I was in the House of Daena does sort of make you question your mental state.” He had stopped drawing, opting instead to fiddle around with the pencil.

The awkward chuckle that followed sounded weirdly familiar to Kaveh’s own ears. “Seeing him all grown up,” he briefly pointed his pen in the vague direction of the two Alhaithams, “didn’t really help either.”

His younger self turned to him with a sparkle in his own carmine eyes. Looking into them, like this, right in front of him, made Kaveh feel inexplicably strange, “But after he brought me to meet Lesser Lord Kusanali, I felt much better, honestly.”

A short laugh broke the ensuing moments of silence, “Archons, no one would believe us if we were to tell them about this, huh? It was quite a surreal experience, seeing her, but…” he trailed off.

Kaveh could understand. He nodded, “She really has such a reassuring presence, doesn’t she?”

He fondly remembered the first time he had met her. As soon as Alhaitham had brought him through those gold embellished doors, he had practically already been floored by the sweeping paths and emerald arcs of the sanctuary around them. Later, when Lord Kusanali had held his hand in her much smaller ones and thanked him for his assistance with such unrestrained kindness in her smile, he had been seconds away from crying.

Younger him hummed in agreement.

“And all we can do is wait, right?” Kaveh supposed so.

Quiet fell over them once again for a while. He was just about to get up and grab the book he had started reading earlier this week when his younger voice spoke up again.

“Besides, seeing myself- well, ourselves, I suppose- like this… It’s quite reassuring too.”

Hm. He could see how knowing for certain that you had a future might be comforting, but… Well, it did feel a little strange for him to be thinking like that in his younger years.

Student him smiled as he took a short look around the room. “It’s good to see that we’ll be happy.”

Kaveh jumped just a little in his seat.

How that was the conclusion he took out of seeing them argue all evening was beyond him, really. The expectant look he was currently under made him very quickly realize that it had been more of a question than he’d like. He could not (and would not want to) tell him about all the ways his life had been de-railed; his living situation most prominent of all.

“Uh, yeah!” he awkwardly chuckled just the same way his younger self had minutes earlier, “Yeah, life is good.” Kaveh cringed. He would have never used that phrase; he hoped his younger self would just assume he had a change in vocabulary. The smile he gave the student he hoped to be reassuring.

“Didn’t we say not to divulge details of our lives?”

Oh, fuck him. So he had been listening. Still, he only deigned to step in and put a stop to this line of questioning once Kaveh had had a small crisis over it. Thanks.

“Oh, come on, how would that be able to change their actions?!” he turned around to look at a maddeningly calm Alhaitham in aggravation. “If anything, knowing they will lead them to a good place is just going to cement our choices.”

The other just shrugged, eyes already back on the pages in front of him.

“It’s the principle of the matter, don’t you think?”

Kaveh could really not think of anything nice to say to that. (Because he was, technically, right. Kaveh just really did fold under pressure all to easily, but he would not be saying that.)

With an exhausted sigh, he finally got up to extract himself from this situation.

As he picked up the book from his bedside table, he briefly contemplated simply staying in his bedroom. But, as much as Kaveh would like some mental peace and quiet, leaving their guests alone felt inherently rude. As uninvited as these guests were.

Ugh.

He ran one hand down his face. Behind his closed eyes he found the unsure look little Alhaitham had given him when he left the living room just now. Archons, help him.

(Though he didn’t know how Lord Kusanali would be able to put him out of his misery, either. Perhaps some emotional support. He could do with that.)

Steeling his resolve against any more literal interactions with their past pulling at his tangled heartstrings, he walked back into the hallway, book in tow.

But when he rounded the corner to their living room, it was with great surprise that, instead of strange and mind-boggling sight of seeing the same person twice along with another version of himself, he was greeted by only one Alhaitham and no Kaveh remaining around the table.

“They’re gone?”

Alhaitham hummed. “Just after you left the room.”

Kaveh felt just a bit ashamed at the relief that washed over him. Still, he did feel bad for not having bid them farewell. “Why didn’t you call me?”

The other finally met his eyes. (Over the top of his book. His head was still tilted down a bit. Gods, why did he do that.)

“I couldn’t.” At Kaveh’s evident confusion, he simply shrugged. “They were gone in just a moment. I didn’t even catch it.”

In lieu of an answer, Kaveh exhaled the day’s exhaustion and listlessly let himself fall onto the divan next to Alhaitham. It was over, at least. He likely would need a few days to sort through the emotional rollercoaster he had been on today. Perhaps a trip to the tavern. He should go visit Tighnari.

“How do you think their lives will play out?” Why was he asking this? He didn’t know. He was tired.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alhaitham’s eyes glued to the book again. However, he inclined his head in that certain way he was prone to when he was, actually, not entirely averse to the conversation taking place. “I suppose we’ll know once our timeline falls apart.”

Kaveh let out a long-suffering groan. Why did he even try to have a normal conversation? Thanks for the reassurance.

“I already miss the cuter you,” he lightly (he was so kind, wasn’t he? And what did he get in return?) jabbed his roommate’s unnecessarily muscular shoulder. “You weren’t as obnoxious back then.”

And that had Alhaitham chuckling of all things, because of course it would.

“You know, the younger you seemed to find me quite agreeable,” the tone of his voice made Kaveh want to smother him with his horribly ugly pillow before he could even finish talking. Unfortunately, he thought better of it.

“Enough to spend half the evening drawing me – I’m sure you saw,” Alhaitham made an amused sound. “Quite the flattering render.”

Change of plans: Perhaps he should smother himself. Although certainly with one of their other pillows – red and yellow houndstooth would not be the last thing he sees, thank you.

He settled for crossing his arms in indignation. Cyno still owed him a drink for having lost at TCG last week, after all.

“Yeah, whyever might that be. My cute junior turns into…,” Kaveh had to bodily restrain himself from gesturing Alhaitham up and down, “This. Younger me has no idea; he’s just blinded.”

If only student-age him knew how much of an infuriating jerk his little junior would become… He was sure he would see him differently then, too. Absolutely certain.

The implied insult appeared to have entirely bounced off of the other man. Not that he was surprised. Alhaitham, as always, just cherry-picked the one thing he said that he wanted to reply to.

“I didn’t know you found me that attractive,” those unfairly pretty teal eyes flickered over to him for a few seconds, betraying his not-so-quiet amusement. “Why, thank you, senior”

Kaveh choked on air. Just a little bit.

Oh, this conversation was going on his too-egregious-to-tell-Tighnari-about list.

He decidedly closed his eyes and shielded his poor, poor heart and soul with sternly crossed arms. “That is not what I meant.”

(It was what he meant. But he certainly did not mean it as a compliment.)

The ensuing quiet made Kaveh believe (read: hope) that Alhaitham would let him be. Retrospectively, simply exiting the room did not cross his mind even once. It must have been the exhaustion.

“Did you lie?”

No, of course he could not be left to lick his wounds. Why spare him the dignity.

Kaveh squawked in indignance, “Compliment-fishing now? Come on, I know how full of yourself you are –“

“No, not that.” The snap of a book closing got him to open his eyes before he could think better of it. The gaze he met was much too probing for his own good. “Are you happy?”

He froze.

Where was this coming from?

“I, uh…,” Kaveh found himself stuck between trying to figure out Alhaitham’s goal behind this surely underhanded question and genuinely thinking about an answer. It had hit him so unexpectedly, he could not even find it in himself to be aggravated.

Also, the insistent eye contact Alhaitham was holding was making him nervous. He shifted awkwardly in hopes of making the strange feeling bubbling under his skin go away, occasionally averting his gaze.

His recent commission came to mind. This would be the opportunity to tell him, really. The chance of buying a house, leaving - he had wanted to tell the other about it, truly. That had at least been his plan before, well, everything else happening today. Still, just as it had before, it did not quite evoke the happiness it should have.

Before he could ignore the queasiness at the topic and declare his decidedly very happy intentions of moving out, anyways (as he should have), his mind drifted to other things he could spend his hard-earned money on. Among Inazuman inks and that one incredible brand of paper, his eyes landed on that obnoxious, offensive pillow.

He could buy some pillows to replace this affront on the eyes, couldn’t he? He should, actually. He would be doing Alhaitham a favor. (Why would he do that?)

A second kitchen chair, too. One of them always had to stand. (Which would be a non-issue, if he moved out.)

There was also this empty nook in his room, he had wanted a plant for a while –

Kaveh suddenly was hit with an incredibly uncomfortable realization.

It had been so obvious. Of course. But why?

– He did not want to move out. The thought of coming home to an empty house made something twist in his stomach. It reminded him of the days he spent as a teen in a house too big for his lonely heart to fill.

He could find another roommate then, perhaps? Tighnari, well – the rainforest humidity really did not work well with Kaveh’s hair. And Cyno… oh, the general practically lived with Tighnari and Collei when he was around, did he not? Kaveh wasn’t sure he would survive being subjected to his jokes all day, anyways.

Someone else was surely to be found. Right?

…right?

An even more devastating realization slowly set in.

Oh no.

Oh no.

… he liked living with Alhaitham? That was the good part?

He liked having his coffee stolen in the morning. Liked the banter. Liked how he was just a little different behind closed doors. What was wrong with him.

(Congratulations, you finally got it, he could hear Tighnari say.)

The expression on his face must have been befitting an impeding national crisis.

But Alhaitham… He surely must want him to leave. Kaveh was very much intruding here; it had always been an unspoken agreement that the lent golden key was very much just that: lent.

(He had taken the liberty to attach a keyring along with a keychain, anyways.

… had it started back then? Oh god.)

Kaveh took a breath to steel himself.

“No, I was being honest,” he hoped his face did not betray the turbulence in his head. At least any more than it already had. “I am… happy. I’d say so, yes.”

And he was happy, wasn't he. Happy to return home to this every day. Happy to spend a way too large part of his days squabbling with this man he wasn't even sure what to call anymore. 

When had this started? How long had it been like this? And why, in kind and sweet Lord Kusanali's name, did he never notice? 

All these years he had had the goal to finally make money, buy a house and leave firmly etched in his mind. But now... 

He could not get the words ‘by the way, I can move out now’ over his lips. What instead came out was something entirely different.

“Are you?”

Quite honestly, it almost felt like he was more surprised by the question than Alhaitham. Although the man sitting at the other end of the divan caught himself after mere moments.

“Sure,” the book was still sitting on his lap. Closed. “I am happy with my life.”

Sigh. Of course it was that easy for him. Striving for maximum comfort each and every day of your life did have that effect, Kaveh thought just a little cynically.

The way they were sitting in dead silence made him feel like there was some unasked question he had yet to answer. Alhaitham wasn’t looking at him anymore, thankfully, but he hadn’t touched his book again, either. If he didn’t know any better, Kaveh would be saying that the other man was studying the colorful pattern their tinted windows projected onto the floor.

The silence made him talk. He would do terribly in an interrogation, wouldn’t he? Don't tell Cyno.

“The client I told you about. He paid me a part upfront.”

Alhaitham hummed one of his many hums. Kaveh was a solid 80% sure that this was the ‘I’m listening, go on’ hum. His second-best idea would be the ‘I know what you’re going to say and I’m gleefully awaiting the opportunity to deliver an obnoxious comment’ hum.

“So, ah… I guess I should be looking into real estate soon.” Kaveh wanted to pat himself on the back. He got it over with, and quite smoothly so. It still felt weird to be saying the thing he had anticipated for years.

It really was not all too bad, if he ignored the sinking feeling that made a home in his stomach. His throat tightened, as if to punish him for talking. 

Alhaitham remained silent for a beat longer than he usually did. It had Kaveh nervous. What for, he didn’t know. “Mh, sure. If you want to.”

“Yes,” Kaveh nodded, before staring at the other with wide eyes, “Wait- if I want to?”

“If you want to.” Alhaitham was looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Do you… not want me to?” the hopefulness in his voice would have made him flush in embarrassment if he weren’t so mentally preoccupied right now.

“I didn’t say that.” Oh. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” he elaborated in the same tone you would talk to a grade schooler. Kaveh wanted to shake him. Or himself. He wasn’t sure.

“Don’t you want me to get out of your hair?”

“I said I was content with my life as it is, didn’t I?”

He sure did. Yes.

Kaveh was, and it was surely only natural, just a little floored by the number of things he had realized within the span of the past two minutes.

Maybe a bit more than a little.

They shared a quiet look. Kaveh was sure that his eyes were comically large and his face just a little flushed. With some delight, he noticed Alhaitham having taken off his headphones sometime earlier – likely after their ‘guests’ had left. The tips of his ears were bright pink.

“…alright. Then,” Kaveh took a breath and one long, good look at the pillow-shaped bane of his existence on the other divan. “I’m going furniture shopping next week. Alone.”

The human-shaped bane of his existence huffed out a chuckle. That terrible grin on his face told Kaveh that he would not, in fact, be going alone. He found he did not mind the prospect of having to pay for Alhaitham’s next interior design crime nearly as much as he should have.