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As soon as the clock strikes 5, al-Haitham rises from his desk, bids a curt farewell to the various secretaries and other workers within earshot, and exits through the heavy double doors of the Akademiya as a man on a mission.
It's a short walk to the bazaar, one that he keeps his earpiece on for nonetheless. The noise isn't something he appreciates dealing with when he's operating at full capacity, let alone when he's exhausted after work. He reluctantly joins the flow of people through the streets, the hurried throngs desperate to get home after a long day. He can't blame him, but right now, they're making his journey more difficult.
Finally, he reaches his goal: a grocery stall he's frequented for years, tucked in an out-of-way corner of the bazaar. Even aside from the fact that it lets him escape the crowd crush, this stall has prices that are solidly middle-of-the-pack, but the goods have the most consistent quality.
The older woman running the stall--auntie, he calls her out of respect--beams as he approaches. "al-Haitham!"
al-Haitham inclines his head in greeting. “Hello, auntie.”
“You’re so pallid,” the auntie running the stall tuts disapprovingly. “Young men like you shouldn’t be cooped up behind a desk all day. You have strong arms, I’ll grant you that, but you should look into taking a job at the docks. Some sun would do you a lot of good.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, auntie.” He won’t, but she seems to appreciate the lie. He's not entirely sure whether she knows he's the acting Grand Sage or not, but it's not like that would deter her.
He listens as she chatters on about her grandchildren–apparently, young Sriya is about to start her second year at the Akademiya, and young-but-slightly-less-young Arjun has taken her advice and started a job at the docks last week. All the while, al-Haitham places the groceries he wishes to purchase in front of her, interjecting on occasion to haggle and interrupting when she seems to be slowing down in an attempt to finalize his purchase.
He starts to tune her out, impatience taking him over, as she rattles off the list of groceries he’s purchased at her stall–mostly fresh fruits like Zaytun peaches, since Kaveh had not-so-subtly hinted they were running low on their supply. So routine is this interaction that he almost doesn’t catch the most important part of their conversation.
“–and I’ll throw in another bag at half price for your young man. How’s that?”
al-Haitham, who up until this moment was not aware that he possessed a young man, blinks. The auntie running the stall at the bazaar waits expectantly, crow’s feet crinkling with her smile.
Normally, the first course of action would be to deny such a thing. Rumors, even untrue ones (especially untrue ones) spread quickly through Sumeru City’s gossip network. This could cause trouble for al-Haitham down the line, could be the start of an avalanche of annoying assumptions and questions.
But he just shrugs and takes the extra bag of coffee beans with a quick thank you, auntie. He’s not one to turn down a good deal.
“Oh, you’re back,” Kaveh says as soon as he hears the click of the lock and al-Haitham’s footsteps in the doorway, although he doesn’t move from his spot on the divan. “Give me my keys, will you?”
“You're missing a word," al-Haitham says.
“Must you be so trying?” When al-Haitham simply raises an eyebrow, Kaveh lets out an aggrieved sigh. “Fine. Please give me my keys.”
al-Haitham tosses him the keys over the back of the divan, the sad little stitched-together lion face adorning the keychain hanging on by a thread. “You should remember to take them with you when you leave the house.”
“You grabbed them by mistake!” Kaveh retorts, aghast. “Ugh. Whatever. Did you stop by the bazaar on your way back from work?”
“Whatever could have clued you in?” al-Haitham makes his way to the kitchen, groceries in tow.
Kaveh clicks his tongue. “I still don’t know what those aunties see in you,” he says, head tipped back while lying on the divan, as al-Haitham rearranges the contents of their cabinet to make room for his purchases. “It can’t be a winning personality, that’s for sure.”
“And yet, despite my lack of a “winning personality”, we will not have to return for Zaytun peaches, Harra fruit, glabrous beans, and coffee beans for another” –al-Haitham does the quick mental math– “two weeks. Given how fast you go through coffee beans, perhaps one.”
“Unbelievable.” Kaveh huffs, although a smile threatens to twitch across his lips. “Maybe you should do all the shopping from now on, since you’re such a great negotiator. And don’t think I missed your jab about my coffee intake!”
“Given that it’s your turn to make dinner tonight, you can choose what drink goes with the meal,” al-Haitham says. “All I’m saying is that you making coffee wouldn’t be a surprising outcome."
With a groan and a hand placed over his undoubtedly aching back, Kaveh rises from the divan. "Oh, we'll see about that."
As it turns out, Kaveh decides on fruit juice, squeezed fresh from the Zaytun peaches currently taking up more than their share of real estate in their kitchen cabinets. It pairs nicely with the last of the tandoori chicken from the icebox.
As the sweetness slides down al-Haitham’s throat, the strange turn of conversation with the auntie arises the his mind once more. She gleaned a false impression of his relationship status, that was for certain, but who could she have mistaken as his "young man"?
A man around al-Haitham's age, seen out in public with him enough for them to be recognized as a pair, close enough to be mistaken for a couple...
al-Haitham looks up. Kaveh, still wolfing down his food, doesn't notice.
Ah, he thinks. This could present a problem.
-
“So,” Tighnari says, laying the cards out on the table (both figuratively and metaphorically, since he's dealing for Kaveh and Cyno's TCG match) at their bi-weekly gathering exactly two days later. “I hear you have a partner, al-Haitham?”
Ah. The consequences of his actions have finally arrived.
“Oh? And who told you that?”
Tighnari rolls his eyes. “The scholars interning at Gandharva Ville won’t shut up about it. To them, it’s the most interesting news in months. Maybe if those guys had put as much effort into their studies as spreading gossip, I wouldn’t have had to deal with so many mushroom-related accidents."
Despite his harsh words, Tighnari’s eyes are bright and searching, his ears twitching with curiosity. While Tighnari disdains the Akademiya and their foolishness, he’s not immune to their gossip. A scholar’s only escape from endless deadlines is information of a different kind, and it seems even graduation and his years as a Forest Watcher have not tempered this instinct.
“What?” Kaveh looks like someone poked him between the eyes, an uncharacteristic expression of confusion on his face as he glances back and forth between the two of them. “al-Haitham, you’re seeing someone? How come I didn’t know about this?”
“I am ‘seeing people’”, al-Haitham says, not bothering to do the air quotes that are evident in his voice, “in front of me right now.”
Kaveh rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so pedantic, Haravatat, you know what I mean.”
“I do,” al-Haitham says. “But not in this instance.” When Kaveh squints in disbelief, he clarifies. “While I’m familiar with the saying, it is incorrect. Akademiya gossip has gotten ahead of itself, it seems.”
“Huh.” The table lapses into silence, broken only by Cyno re-rolling his dice and punctuated with a tiny yes! “How did this rumor even get started?”
“I’m not sure,” al-Haitham lies, straight-faced.
“Don’t be so nonchalant about all of this!” Kaveh looks around the table, clearly finding none of the indignation that he himself possesses. “Don’t you want to find the source so you can put the rumors to rest?"
“Why?” al-Haitham asks. “So far, no trouble has come about as a result of these rumors." True, although future prospects are suspect. "In fact, I've already obtained half-priced goods simply by not outright denying the assumption that I have a partner."
“Well–” Kaveh flicks his eyes around the cafe, like he’s casting around for an idea. Curiously, he doesn’t meet al-Haitham’s gaze. “If you date someone else…”. He trails off and winces after he says it, like he doesn’t even believe what he’s saying.
al-Haitham lets out a quiet huff of amusement. “Trust me,” he says. “That won’t happen.”
“...Fine.” Most of the indignation leaves Kaveh, but he still has a spark of curiosity in his eyes. “Say, do you even know who they’re talking about? Even if the rumor is false, it had to have sprouted from a seed of truth, right?”
“Not necessarily,” Cyno says. "I've seen how some of my colleagues handle slander cases. Some of them were 100% fabricated." He sets up a few low-cost and zero-cost cards on the table, laying the foundation for future moves before waiting expectedly for Kaveh to make his move.
"Cyno's correct, but yes," al-Haitham says, against his best judgement. "I know who it is."
"What?" Kaveh stands up, nearly knocking his drink off the table, before sitting down in embarrassment when heads start to turn their way. "You know who it is?" he hisses. "Why didn't you say anything?"
al-Haitham takes another sip of coffee, fully aware that this (both letting Kaveh get too close to the truth and consuming this beverage as the night drags on) is a bad idea. “I thought it was obvious,” he says. “It would have to be someone I’ve been seen with previously. I’d also have to be close with this person as well, to the point where the rumor mill could reasonably spin the tale.”
Tighnari ponders for a second, chin propped up on his hand, before his eyes widen in horror. “No,” he says, “there’s no way.”
al-Haitham takes another sip of his coffee.
“I refuse to believe it,” Tighnari says.
“Oh, so it's like that," Cyno says. "I get it."
Kaveh looks around the table, utterly confused. Although it’s his turn, the dice lay forgotten next to his fingertips. “Am I missing something?” he asks. “How do you all seem to know who it is? That could be a lot of people!”
Tighnari shakes his head. “It really couldn’t be,” he says, a shadow of a smirk on his face. “Honestly, he barely tolerates most people in the first place."
"Hmmm..." Kaveh's gaze has become unfocused, the way it does when possibilities are swirling in his mind. Then, the clouds clear, his eyes filled once again with light and determination. "Is it..."
al-Haitham, despite himself, leans back slightly, like he wants to distance himself from whatever Kaveh says next.
“Tighnari?”
al-Haitham suppresses a sigh of relief. Tighnari chokes on a bite of pita pocket.
"No," al-Haitham says.
"I would rather go out into the desert at high noon of my own volition," Tighnari says, emphatically, "than go out with al-Haitham."
Kaveh snorts. "Noted." Then, he turns to the other non-al-Haitham friend present at the table, impatiently tapping his foot because Kaveh still hasn't taken his turn. "Cyno?”
al-Haitham’s mouth twitches upwards in a smile as he shakes his head. Tighnari’s head is in his hands.
"Definitely not," al-Haitham says.
“I’d be honoured,” Cyno says solemnly, “but his demeanor is too sage for my taste."
The table falls silent.
"Sage?" he says to no one. "Because he acts so wise and all-knowing, but he's also the acting Grand Sage?"
"Haven't I suffered enough tonight?" Tighnari groans.
“I give up,” Kaveh sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “Who is it?”
“Kaveh,” al-Haitham says, exasperated.
“What?” Kaveh looks up, annoyed. “You're all clearly in on something. Just spill it.”
“Kaveh,” al-Haitham repeats, fondness bleeding into his exasperation.
“Oh, for Lesser Lord Kusanali’s’ sake,” Tighnari pushes back his chair, and it makes an awful screeching noise against the floor. “I am not sitting through another minute of this. One of you needs to settle the tab, and you will fill me in the next time we meet up.”
He leaves in a huff. Cyno stares at his retreating back, before glancing back apologetically. “Much as I hate to leave a duel unfinished, it seems a glorious victory is not in the cards tonight."
And with that, both of them sweep out the door.
“Apologies,” al-Haitham says.
“Who are you, and what have you done with al-Haitham?"
“I never apologize because I’m usually never at fault,” al-Haitham says, ignoring the muttered asshole he receives in response to this correct assertion. “However, the blame for this incident falls solely on myself.”
“Hmm?” Kaveh cocks his head to the side. “But that doesn’t make any sense? Unless you were the one who spread the rumor, but that's obviously ridiculous--and why would you need to apologize to me, unless--"
“I did spread the rumor." Kaveh's jaw drops, and he does his best to ignore it. "Unintentionally, I may add. And yes, you are the other party."
It takes a few seconds for Kaveh to pick his jaw up off the floor, spluttering a couple words before he manages anything coherent. “People think we’re dating?”
“Technically, they think you’re my young man,” al-Haitham adds, unhelpfully.
“How did they even–wait, they think I’m younger, that’s nice, I suppose–how did they even reach that conclusion.”
“One of the aunties at the bazaar made an assumption, and I never corrected her.”
Kaveh looks close to tugging his hair out. “Why would you do that?”
“I was more concerned with the discount on coffee beans.”
“You prioritized a good bargain over the truth?"
“You're right, Kaveh,” al-Haitham says, as something finally starts to loosen inside his chest at their easy banter. He doesn't have any liquid courage coursing through his veins, but this is better, he thinks. "In that case, why don't we make it the truth?"
“Oh, you’d better believe–wait, what?”
al-Haitham waves a hostess over to settle the bill as Kaveh splutters. Once he's paid, he leaves without a backwards glance, heart hammering in his chest even as he hears a familiar set of footsteps follow him out into the nearly-empty street.
“al-Haitham. al-Haitham, what do you mean by that?”
al-Haitham turns to look over his shoulder, to where Kaveh is standing, flushed and beautiful under the orange streetlamps, behind him. “There are benefits to becoming a couple. Saving money on household expenses, for one."
"You're such an asshole," Kaveh says, but with a little jolt, al-Haitham realizes he's smiling. "That's the only benefit for you? Are you sure?"
"No," al-Haitham admits. "I'm also in love with you."
"There! Was that so hard?" Kaveh takes a step towards him, then another, advancing like a Rishboland tiger stalking his prey. al-Haitham barely has time to register the soft press of lips before Kaveh pulls away, triumphant.
"Does this mean you'll no longer be so averse to people knowing we're living together?"
Kaveh hesitates. "We'll talk about it," he says, finally. "But maybe."
"So that's a yes, as long as you're my partner over my roommate."
"al-Haitham! You can't just--!" Kaveh squawks. "But yes. Fine. Maybe if you introduce me as your boyfriend. At least then our living arrangement would make sense."
Boyfriend is a word that al-Haitham has long considered juvenile. For Kaveh, though, he'd be fine using it as a descriptor. That thought is relegated to the back of his mind when Kaveh pulls him in again.
It might be late at night, with the street all but deserted, but they're still in public. al-Haitham won't care if Kaveh doesn't, though.
Let them talk.