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Summary:

Alhaitham comes home overstimulated after an undisclosed series of events and finds support where he was most afraid to show this side of himself.

Notes:

i don't claim this to be an insanely accurate piece of autistic representation, this is but a very self-indulgent thing i wrote mostly to vent about my own (mild) experience, in a way (oh god i wish another person's touch would help me in those moments instead of making it worse. touch-starved touch-averse people unite)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The noise is surrounding him, creeping in even through the shield of his headphones, and he presses his hands over them in an attempt to muffle the sounds, no longer caring about what others might think should they see him like this.

Every time a passerby crosses his field of vision, the image feels as though it stabs his eyes, and so he has to lower his gaze to avoid seeing any movement besides his own feet.

The sunlight reflecting off the nearly-white pavement stabs his eyes instead.

Archons damn those... architects. Urban planners? Argh... whatever. Who needs a white pavement, anyway. Stupid.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, trying to regain his composure, and then continues his way, staring at the ground, squinting as he counts his steps, desperately trying to pick up his pace. His heels hurt from stomping heavily against the ground, something he struggles to control with noise-cancelling on, but he no longer cares. Just a couple more minutes, and he’ll get home. 

It’s going to be alright. He’s going to be safe.

Just a few steps away from his front door, he realizes he has to remove his hands from his headphones in order to fetch the key from his pocket. He groans quietly and waits a few seconds, holding his breath before his hand shoots down to grab the key as quickly as possible. Immediately the sounds of a random woman’s voice bursts in, and he catches a few words as she’s chattering away about dragons- or is it saurians? He couldn’t care less. He tries hard not to pay attention to her. It’s okay. He’s almost there.

The key gets caught up on some loose threads inside his pocket, and he nearly tears up the fabric as his hands tremble with frustration, the clinking sounds his key makes adding up to the chaos that surrounds him. He feels hot and itchy, and his turtleneck starts choking him, which is the usual sign of the oncoming storm. He gulps and tries his best to concentrate.

Finally, the door is unlocked. He stumbles inside, nearly knocking over their shoe rack, and he spends the last of his energy on giving the door a good kick to slam it as loudly as he possibly can.

Alhaitham is home.

He stands there, eyes closed even though it’s already dark enough not to aggravate his senses as much. But he needs more. It’s better now, but it’s not enough. He can still hear his breaths, and his heartbeat, and the high-pitched ringing in his ears that always comes on when he’s incredibly stressed. His turtleneck is still choking him. In fact, the second he stepped inside, all of his clothes started making him feel like he was going to suffocate. What a shame, because snug clothing is what he feels most comfortable in–when he’s not overstimulated this badly, that is. 

Despite all the discomfort, he still can’t move. It’s almost like something is holding him in place, and if he dared to try and take even a single step forward, he would collapse and break down completely, at last.

He gulps and tries to blink away tears he didn’t realize he was suppressing. He feels so strange.

For a moment, it feels as if he’s had a heat stroke or something, because now he’s getting brain fog. Or is he?

In moments like these, it always gets excruciatingly difficult to think straight. He needs at least fifteen minutes of complete silence and darkness to even start recovering and reaching his normal state– in case he doesn’t have a full-blown meltdown before he even gets the chance to do that.

But somehow, this feels different.

His thoughts run slow, and his mind feels confusingly viscous and empty, simultaneously. He feels less like a grown human being he is and more like a creature of some sort. He feels nameless. His body feels too big, and everything feels off. Everything melts, and it feels wrong, so wrong. The words that are popping inside his head are now simple and somewhat childish, the sentences lacking any proper grammar, confusing him even more, before he decides he’s too exhausted to care anymore. It is what it is. He just needs some rest. He’s probably just very tired. 

Sleepy.

He takes a few awkward steps forward before plopping down onto the divan. It’s soft and bouncy and welcoming as he curls up against the cushions, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Soft.

He has to take off his clothes. He cannot tolerate them anymore.

Scratchy.

He reaches down in an attempt to tug off his pants and immediately gets frustrated because his hands barely seem to work the way they should. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong. He probably should feel concerned about this.

Hot.

But all he can really do is try to hold back his tears, pressing his face into the cushion. He feels trapped. Maybe he should just wait it out and try to calm down before he can–

The sound of a key turning in the door lock. A weary sign, rustling of clothes and clinking of jewelry, heavy footsteps, and a door slam that makes him flinch and curl in on himself.

His senses are fully aggravated all over again, and he chokes back a sob that he hopes was quiet enough for Kaveh not to overhear. He holds his breath and tries to stay as still as possible before realizing, in a belated flash of conscience, that the best strategy right now would be to pretend to be asleep, and so he makes sure to do his best breathing slowly, spending the remainder of his energy on this simple task.

“Alhaitham!” Yeah, that’s my name. “Argh, damn it, the sand... again... Just when are you gonna learn to use the doormat properly…?”

Too bad. The sound of Kaveh’s voice cutting through the noise cancelation actually makes him jump this time, and he can’t hold back anymore. He gulps, tears streaming down his cheeks, soaking through the covers as he hopes Kaveh won’t notice. That level of humiliation is something he would never be able to forget.

Somewhere deep down, however, in the back of his tangled mind, he can sense the desperate need for Kaveh to notice, to do something. Selfishly, he wants some true compassion, for once. He wants to drop the mask and let Kaveh take care of him.

…but he shouldn’t. Even right now, he is still able to comprehend the sheer scale of the potential disaster that would follow, and the last thing he wants is to disrupt the fragile peace they have built over the years full of bantering.

“Oh, Archons... What are you, five?”

Kaveh’s words sting harder than they should. 

Apparently, Alhaitham’s sniff that follows comes a bit too loud, because Kaveh stops in his tracks momentarily–he can almost sense him freeze in place just a few steps away–and stays still for a couple seconds before clearing his throat awkwardly, probably staring at Alhaitham’s curled up form.

“Oh…”

A longer silence.

“Are you, uhm… okay there?”

Alhaitham wants to say something, to come up with a dry remark as he usually would, to make it feel normal again, but he can’t. Instead, he lets out a pitiful noise which even he can’t classify as anything, as he tries to bury his head deeper in between the covers and the cushion. He can’t fight this state of his anymore. He desperately needs care from someone.

Scared.

Kaveh stands there for a couple more seconds, probably too stunned to speak. To him, this looks way too uncharacteristic of Alhaitham, that’s for sure. Not to mention very unflattering. He’s always made sure to hide himself away should he get overwhelmed around Kaveh. Locking himself in his bedroom and either decompressing in his bed for hours or taking out his frustration on the nearest pillow always seemed like a more viable option than opening up and sharing this vulnerable part of himself. Now, of course, Kaveh was well aware of his sensory issues, but it’s never gotten this bad before. Not in his presence, at least. And right now, Alhaitham feels the most vulnerable he has felt in ages, probably since his early childhood.

Could that be the key to this mystery?

He doesn’t care. Not right now. He’ll think about it later.

Tired.

Distracted by some scattered childhood memories popping into his head, he nearly jumps again when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Kaveh…

He has to fight a strong urge to lean into Kaveh’s touch, to pull him into an embrace and never let go. Alhaitham feels so lonely right now, even though Kaveh is right here by his side, because he is certain that Kaveh would not understand. He would probably stare in disbelief and just ignore and leave him there at best or remind his junior about his embarrassing behavior till the end of his days at worst.

He’s scared now, truly. He’s frozen in place as he awaits Kaveh’s next move.

Kaveh, to his great surprise, doesn’t shove him, doesn’t scream, doesn’t continue snarling as he would normally do.

Nothing about this can be classified as normal, though, Alhaitham thinks very briefly, the words muffled in his mind.

Kaveh just stands there, his hand resting on top of Alhaitham’s arm, the warm weight of his touch so grounding, even despite the turtleneck that is still actively suffocating him. And then Kaveh shifts his hand slightly, caressing his shoulder, so careful it almost feels awkward, but somehow, it is not.

Kaveh.

Alhaitham swallows his tears and lets himself relax just a little, focusing on Kaveh’s touch only. Weird as that might be, it’s actually helping him calm down. A sense of warmth comes from the inside, a strange sensation under his ribs– something akin to itching, albeit more pleasant than annoying. He hasn’t had anyone touch him like that in a long, long time.

He swallows his tears and finally makes an effort to turn his head just a little to glance up at Kaveh, the look on his face–concerned, but also so very tender–making something shift inside Alhaitham’s chest, making him want to cry more, chasing that fleeting sense growing inside of his chest. Affection, he thinks. That’s what it is. Probably. He isn’t sure.

“Hey…” Kaveh whispers as he leans a bit closer and shifts his hand, now brushing his long, delicate fingers through Alhaitham’s wavy hair, softly caressing his scalp. The sensation makes him want to squirm. Something about this is actively threatening to make him tear up even more.

“My shirt…” He manages to squeeze out as the growing intensity of his "brain fog" makes the process of forming sentences more taxing, but at the same time saving him from the ungodly amount of embarrassment he would have felt in this situation if it wasn’t for the state of his mind right now.

“Shirt…? Oh. I see… You… wanna take it off, right? Need my help?” Kaveh asks, keeping his voice down, which Alhaitham is infinitely grateful for.

“Y-Yeah…” He breathes out, staring at Kaveh’s face, trying to ground himself as he finds comfort in the familiar features, so dear to him.

Oh, he needs a hug so badly right now.

Kaveh leans closer and wraps his arms around Alhaitham, helping him up. After a moment of dizziness, Alhaitham reaches out, touching the darkened ends of Kaveh’s hair, playing with the golden strands. 

A quiet giggle escapes his mouth before he’s able to form any coherent thought, his mind in a strange, but comforting haze. He doesn’t want it to go away. He’s feeling so calm now, a little light-headed, and so, so warm. Kaveh’s hands are gentle, and his hair is really soft.

Pretty.

Kaveh gives him an amused smile. He is blushing slightly, still a bit awkward but so gentle. 

“Okay Haitham, let’s take the shirt off then, alright? Let me help you.”

Kaveh slips his hands under the fabric, tugging the shirt off him, making sure it doesn’t get caught on anything, and a few seconds of struggling later, the shirt is finally off and tossed to the side.

Alhaitham instantly feels relieved and free and like he can finally breathe normally again. At the same time, the change of temperature is a lot, and he gets cold a few moments after  the turtleneck is gone. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it closer, wrapping it around himself, his movements noticeably clumsy and sloppy as he does so.

Kaveh watches him for a few seconds, visibly puzzled. He tilts his head, as if trying to piece something together, and then he nods to himself, relaxing his shoulders. 

“I’m gonna go get your sleep clothes now, okay?”

Alhaitham makes a sad, needy sound, looking up at Kaveh as he reaches out for his hand.

“Ka-aveh…”

“It’s okay dear,” using names like that is obviously not something Kaveh is used to with him, evident by the way he blushes and fidgets as he squeezes Alhaitham’s hand in reassurance, but for some reason, it still sounds so natural when he says it out loud. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He squeezes Alhaitham’s hand once more and then lets go, before he turns on his heels and hurries to Alhaitham’s bedroom to fetch his sleep clothes.

Alhaitham wraps the blanket more tightly around himself, and he stares longingly in the direction where Kaveh just disappeared behind the bedroom’s door.

He feels as though in this moment, his entire world has been reduced to Kaveh and Kaveh only. He can only think about the way that his voice sounds, so gentle, so soothing– Alhaitham rarely gets to hear him talk like that, with all the usual bickering between them. He winces at distressing memories and lets his thoughts wander back to Kaveh’s face instead. His soft, beautiful features, his crimson eyes, his golden hair. And then, there are his hands. His soft, warm hands. His fingers are slender, but they aren’t bony or rough– they feel soft, too. His hands feel like home.

Oh, how he wishes he could see this side of Kaveh more. Caring, gentle. Soft. How he wishes he didn’t have to get to a point this low to get to see Kaveh like that. 

Kaveh returns a couple of minutes later, carrying Althaifham’s folded pajamas, and Alhaitham’s face lights up as he smiles shyly and fiddles with his blanket.

Kaveh smiles back and tilts his head, watching Alhaitham, still looking a bit conflicted.

“Hey…” he begins in a soft voice, stepping closer. “Are you, uhm... feeling small?” There is a hint of understanding in his careful tone, and it makes Alhaitham feel just a little bit more hopeful. “I think... I think I know how you feel.”

Alhaitham thinks for a moment as he bites at his fingernail, and then he nods, looking up at Kaveh, and he can almost see himself through Kaveh’s eyes, hyperaware of every little way his behavior differs from the usual right now but still unable to control his state of mind to the full extent. It feels wrong, in a way, but somehow, it doesn’t lead to panic. The rather unexpected realization that he can trust Kaveh with this feels like a warm blanket wrapped around his trembling body. 

“Oh no, no, my dear, don’t do that…” Kaveh takes Haitham’s hand, prying it away gently from his mouth. “Your beautiful nails are gonna get all messy and we don’t want that, okay?”

Alhaitham feels his cheeks warm up at the way Kaveh talks to him; it’s weird, it’s so strange, it is most likely objectively cringeworthy. Still, it makes him feel cared for, this level of intimacy makes him want to giggle happily and smile at Kaveh just to see him smile back. He’s probably never wanted to smile this much in his entire life.

Kaveh steps closer and removes the blanket carefully before helping Alhaitham to get his pajama shirt on. He brushes through his hair once more, and Alhaitham winces when Kaveh’s fingers scrape against his headphones, causing a sharp sound that stabs his brain.

“Oh...! I’m so sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to do that...” Kaveh draws his hand back quickly, watching Alhaitham’s reaction–but he seems to have managed the sharp noise relatively well, though his heartbeat begins to pick up its pace, and his lower lip trembles as he tries to fight a sudden surge of tears, reminded rather harshly of the sensory nightmare he’s had to deal with today. Even though Kaveh’s attention and care have managed to distract him for a bit, the tension is still there– and he’s still struggling to cope with his triggers, sharp noises being the worst one yet.

Kaveh seems to have noticed the slight change in his expression, and he shifts a little, tossing the rest of the folded clothes he was holding to the side and sitting down next to Alhaitham.

“Hey. Haitham…” he whispers, still keeping a safe distance between them. “Maybe… maybe you want to tell me what’s wrong? What happened?”

Alhaitham shakes his head energetically, squeezing his eyes shut, wanting anything but to allow those disturbing moments to resurface in his memory. Kaveh seems to have caught on to that.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now. It’s okay, I promise,” he coos, placing a careful hand onto Alhaitham’s shoulder. “Want a hug?”

Alhaitham nods, looking down.

“Please…”

Kaveh wraps his arms around Alhaitham and pulls him close.

Warm.

It’s been so long since they last hugged each other. Alhaitham has to suppress a shiver at the sensations he’s not quite used to, but eventually, the warmth of Kaveh’s soft embrace helps him relax a little, and as he does so, the remainder of his composure finally begins to crumble.

He buries his face in the crook of Kaveh’s neck, as if trying to hide away again, his entire body trembling, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of something. It burns on the inside, it stings his eyes, it makes him want to curl up and cry like a small child, and so he does.

Alhaitham squeezes his eyes shut as tears begin flowing down his cheeks for the second time this day, dribbling from his chin onto Kaveh’s pristine shirt, but the man doesn’t seem to mind; Alhaitham chokes back pitiful whines, the salty taste of his own tears overwhelming him even more. He would suppose that the additional sensory load of another person so close to him would make it worse, but it seems like this time, it’s quite the opposite. Kaveh’s touch is grounding, and his uncharacteristically quiet presence is wonderfully soothing.

Alhaitham can feel Kaveh’s hands running up and down his back, holding him close; as he sniffles, he can hear a soft whisper in his ear, followed by a gentle kiss on his temple.

“Shhh... hey... it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Still drawing in an occasional sharp wet breath, Alhaitham turns his head a little to look up at Kaveh. He brings his hand up to Kaveh’s face, his fingertips clumsily grazing his cheekbone. In response, Kaveh’s face lights up with a tender smile, making Alhaitham blush a little as he looks away before hiding his face in Kaveh’s hair again.

“Ka-aveh…” he murmurs, snuggling closer. “Sleepy…”

Kaveh gives him another kiss on the forehead and hums quietly in response.

“Let’s get you to bed, then.”

Alhaitham shifts on the couch and crawls onto Kaveh’s lap, wrapping his arms around him.

“There you go…” Kaveh mumbles into his hair and stands up from the couch, holding him tight, grunting a bit from the weight of Alhaitham in his arms as he takes a few steps towards the bedroom.

It still feels a little bit awkward, which is not surprising at all given the past few years of their relationship, but at least Alhaitham feels safe, at last.

When he is all cozy and tucked into bed, and Kaveh is just about to leave his room, Alhaitham suddenly feels a tingle of longing.

Alhaitham’s breath hitches and he cries out, his voice small and sad, “Kaveh… stay…?”

Kaveh stops in his tracks, apparently considering his options. He taps his fingers together, fidgeting, as he looks back at Alhaitham with an unreadable expression.

This makes Alhaitham curl in on himself, as if trying to become smaller, to protect himself from the outburst that he feels like is going to follow, from the harsh tone that Kaveh’s beautiful voice takes on so often, making it so painful to hear. 

“Oh no, oh no... what’s wrong, Haitham? Did I hurt you?” he hears a gentle whisper instead, and it stings his eyes again. Alhaitham draws in a ragged breath as he looks up at Kaveh’s face, his features barely distinguishable, the tears blurring his vision.

“No... p-please... stay.” is all he manages to say, but he really hopes it got the message across.

Kaveh hesitates for a split second, and then he smiles gently, stepping closer and reaching out to ruffle Alhaitham’s hair.

“Of course I will, my dear, just give me a couple minutes, okay? I’ll be right back, Haitham, I just need to change, and I’ll be right back, I promise…” he coos, leaning closer and caressing Alhaitham’s tear-stricken face.

Alhaitham lets out a soft hum and leans into Kaveh’s gentle touch, blinking the tears away.

"Okay..." he nods, exhausted, his body growing limp by the second as he struggles to keep his eyes open and eventually gives in. 

"...be right back." is the last thing he hears as he falls into a deep slumber, and he dreams of Kaveh’s gentle hands and his beautiful voice, devoid of any unpleasant undertones, and for the first time in a long, long while, he has a feeling that things are not as bad as they have seemed, their peace is not that fragile after all, and soon everything is going to be alright again.

Notes:

i hope this doesn't read as sixth-grade level writing to any native speakers who happen to come across this thing