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Reprendre son Souffle
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Wriothesley tossed the tea towel back onto the counter, sighing heavily as it crumpled against the backsplash.
Last night had been surprisingly comfortable after the mess had eased up. Dinner was quiet, but it had also been the four of them. Carole had woken and joined them, as much a babe can, and they ended the evening with Kaveh doing some sketch or another, Alhaitham’s nose buried in some book and Wriothesley just killing time with his daughter.
It…
Nothing had really been settled, not really, but it had been settled enough.
Wriothesley was, he supposed, used to a certain level of upset after all his years running the prison. There were times when there was nothing to be done about a certain situation or another- what with all the bureaucracy, red tape, and red tape that he had to decide whether he wanted to abide by or skirt around.
This felt something like that.
Just another thing that was familiar but different.
The house around him was quiet, the only real sound was Chou happily playing with a handful of plush creatures that several of Kaveh’s friends had given to her. Aranara, he thinks they’re called; they’re cute.
Wriothesley had made sure not to move until after he’d heard the scribe leave the house that morning. He’d let Kaveh sleep in a bit, and the man had run out with a tube of blueprints and a piece of toast in his mouth. He knew that some things were better, but not if all of them were, and honestly? He hated it.
This was one of the reasons that he’d avoided dating. All the uncertainty.
It was strange.
He wasn’t dating Alhaitham, but he couldn’t help but to slide their relationship into that slot- It seemed to be the closest fit.
Had it been like that with Kaveh? He didn’t think so. Everything with Kaveh had just felt so easy.
Even when he’d screwed up, chased Kaveh out of the beach house, it…
Things with Kaveh had been easy. They had.
Had.
Until Kaveh had opened up to him, had been honest about the things that he wanted in bed. The things that Wriothesley couldn’t give him.
Sure, Kaveh had been clear that it was a want and not a need. But…
Wriothesley didn’t just want to be the bare minimum with Kaveh. He didn’t want to be a waste of the blond’s time.
It wasn’t like Wriothesley was doing enough for the man.
It was…
He understood- He really did. He couldn’t leave right now, couldn’t go out and find a job. It wasn’t just that someone needed to be there for Carole, it was that he couldn’t go out. He wanted to get a job, he wanted to contribute. He wanted to be something other than just a drain on everything and everyone.
He did what he could around the house, obviously, but… It wasn’t his house- It was Alhaitham’s. He cooked, he cleaned. But it wasn’t his mora that bought the supplies for that even. He just…
Wriothesley sighed again, pulling the towel from where it was crumpled and hung it up to dry before leaving the kitchen and joining his daughter in the sitting room.
It wasn’t like he hated being able to spend time with her, really it wasn’t. Honestly, it was the best part of being here. No disrespect to his husband, of course, but there was something really and truly magical about being able to witness everything that his daughter was learning to do for the first time. He’d heard about the milestones that people never wanted to miss, first words, steps, things like that- But he’d been there to see her first smile. It…
He’d never really given any thought to having children.
He’d never hated the idea, but when his heart had called out for Neuvillette, well, it just didn’t seem like it would be in the cards. And he’d been fine with that. He’d been more upset at the idea of never having a pet, which, ironically enough, still seemed true. He couldn’t imagine that Haitham would be very open to the idea of a dog, rambunctious or calm, he had the feeling that the fur alone would be a no-go.
And while Wriothesley had just about the same amount of freedom to run around as he had in Fontaine when he’d first been imprisoned, it-
Wriothesley blinked, watching his daughter gum at one of the aranara’s limbs.
It wasn’t like it should be a surprise, right? That he was associating this time with his sentence? Of course he was.
Because he couldn’t leave, not really; couldn’t be seen, not really. He just had to wait, bide his time. That’s…
The feelings were similar, even if the reasons behind them were not.
Kaveh could never know; it would kill him. It wasn’t Kaveh’s fault that the situation was what it was, but Wriothesley knew that he would shoulder the burden all the same.
It-
He shook his head and reached for whatever book it was that Haitham had left on the table for him.
Wriothesley didn’t open it, just toyed with the edges of the pages.
Why was Tartaglia coming now? What was it supposed to mean that he’d chosen now of all times? Did it mean anything?
And what did Haitham mean ‘ask him yourself’? What did - Did that mean that his friend was coming? Wriothesley didn’t know what he would make for an archon- Or exarchon- Or whatever he was. He didn’t know any of Haitham’s friends. Cyno and Tighnari didn’t count because they belonged to Kaveh first or something. And when was he supposed to get here? Should he try and make something Liyuenese for the man? Or would that be stupid- It wasn’t like anything that Wriothesley could make would be anywhere near the level of food that his friend was sure to be used to.
And…
There was some part of him that didn’t know what to do with the fact that Alhaitham had learned? Been taught? Things from his friend. Things that he’d learned so that he could please Kaveh. Things that he was now using with Wriothesley. This friend was the one that he turned to when he had questions about what they were doing.
It wasn’t jealousy that coiled in his stomach, couldn’t be. That wouldn’t make any sense.
Wriothesley was the only one of the trio that hadn’t slept with anyone else outside of the trio, so, it wasn’t like he had a leg to stand on.
And how was he supposed to be jealous, which he wasn’t- It wasn’t like he even knew what this friend looked like. The only thing that he knew about the guy was that his death had been greatly exaggerated, not that Wriothesley would point that out, and that his statues would, apparently, explain a lot.
And, he guessed, that he was talented.
Didn’t seem to have a type- If he was, actually, involved with Tartaglia now and had been involved with Alhaitham, well…
Wriothesley scoffed, a sound that seemed to delight Carole if that’s what her sudden clapping was to imply.
Kaveh and Haitham couldn’t really be more different from each other, though, could they?
Kaveh was a beautiful sunset, warm and inviting. His beauty was blinding, obvious. His embrace was kind and welcoming. His strength was quiet, a gentle guiding hand.
Alhaitham was the moon against the dark sky, aloof and out of reach. His attractiveness was almost something you could miss, too distracted by the way that his brilliance was cutting and sharp, something you couldn’t ignore even though it was hardly shared above a whisper. He was a pillar of strength, but just like everything else about him, it was easily overlooked.
So who was Wriothesley to judge on someone having a type or not.
He gently set the book back on the table, still unopened.
Maybe he should make something Fontainian for Haitham’s friend? He was more familiar with cuisine from his home nation, even though he tended to make more Sumerian food than anything else these days.
Or should he ask Haitham?
Would Haitham even know what kind of food his friend liked? Probably, right? It wasn’t like all they did was have sex, was it? Not… Well, Wriothesley had seen Haitham, had slept with him- It wasn’t like he would fault anyone for partaking in such activities. But that wasn’t all that he was good for.
Kaveh had fallen in love with Alhaitham for a reason, Wriothesley could see it in the way that they were together, could understand it. Haitham didn’t seem to be the kind of person to let many people in, any really, but he, Wriothesley, he had been let in. It was a toss-up as to whether it was because of his attachment to Kaveh or, as time went on, his attachment to Carole that had really opened the door to their friendship, but they had one now.
He didn’t think that, were it not for Kaveh, that he would have made time for Alhaitham. But…
Was that actually true?
As much as it irritated Kaveh when Wriothesley compared Hayi to Neuvillette, he couldn’t help but to see the similarities.
If they’d met under different circumstances…
Wriothesley watched Carole trying to keep herself awake, nodding off briefly before blinking her sparkling eyes and repeating the process.
Would he have been friends with Haitham?
A small smile curved his lips, a sardonic little thing.
Because Wriothesley had no doubt in his mind that he would have been friends with Haitham, but he was equally sure that Haitham would not have made time for Wriothesley.
Even with the stupidity of yesterday’s miscommunications, Wriothesley couldn’t deny that he enjoyed Haitham’s presence in his life. He was calming, good with Carole, and surprisingly funny. His honesty wasn’t always kind, but it was always something that Wriothesley could count on.
So if Alhaitham said that his friend was someone that Wriothesley could share his concerns with, well, there was no need to doubt it…
It was strange.
He didn’t know if it was because he’d spent so much time in Meropide or what, but he wasn’t, exactly, comfortable with just… Chatting about these things.
Kaveh seemed comfortable with it, Haitham as well, but Wriothesley…
He didn’t think it was just because he hadn’t been having it, it was just also because of where he’d spent the majority of his life. He wasn’t unaware of the way that people talked about sex in Meropide, even though he’d never partook (in either the action nor the discussion), he wasn’t deaf. But that didn’t mean that he was as comfortable just talking about it. It wasn’t anyone’s business what they got up to.
But…
He couldn’t help but to think that things would be so much easier if he could just talk about it, like it wasn’t anything. Like it was just another form of exercise. If he could talk about how many laps he ran, how much he could dead-lift, why couldn’t he talk about how many rounds he-
Wriothesley ran a hand over his face and looked at Carole, finally overtaken by the sleep she’d been fighting.
Was it just the sex talk that bothered him? It-
That was certainly part of it, yes, but…
It- He thinks that he has more trouble talking about how he feels like he’s failing. He’s failing Kaveh because he doesn’t know how to restrain himself.
Wriothesley has never been one to get swept away, to let his emotions rule him. But when they’re together like that, everything just seems to melt away and he’s stripped down to the studs, he becomes like a beast, chasing pleasure without any concern or-
And he’s letting Alhaitham down, never good enough, unable to keep Kaveh safe the way that Haitham wanted, the way that he himself wanted. It was too much, he was too much. And he didn’t know what to do with himself.
That’s why he wanted to talk to Alhaitham- Was this normal? The way that he just- The way that everything that made up what he was seemed to melt away into a mindless-
Wriothesley couldn’t help but to think that it wasn’t. Kaveh had never been like that, not even when he’d been in control of everything and cradled Wriothesley in the palm of his hand. Haitham never seemed to let anything slip, always in control of everything and -
“Are you alright?”
Wriothesley jerked, surprise and irritation rolling through him in waves, crashing into each other.
“Fine,” he said, looking up at Haitham who stood still in the entryway. “What are you doing here?”
“I had some time,” he said, shifting his weight slightly. “Thought I would come home for lunch.”
Wriothesley hummed, nodding once. That made sense.
What didn’t was that Haitham had managed to get the drop on him- And without even trying.
“What would you like for lunch?” he asked, getting to his feet.
“You do not need to make me anything,” Haitham said, slipping his headset from his ears.
Wriothesley flexed his hands, fisting and releasing them. Anxious energy thrumming through him. He had to, he had to do something to earn his keep, he-
“But if you would like to,” Alhaitham’s voice was low, his gaze trained towards the playpen, “I would not mind it.”
A thrum of relief slides down his spine; it’s snuffed out when he sees the way that Haitham is studying him.
Didn’t he used to be good at hiding his thoughts? His emotions?
It was almost as easy as breathing to him, just being a stoic figurehead that loomed over Meropide.
But Haitham saw through him. Easily, like he’d been given a book about it. He hated it.
Wriothesley turned away, made his way to the kitchen.
He didn’t know exactly how long the man had for lunch, but it likely wasn’t long, especially considering that he still had to walk back to the office.
Wriothesley opened the cold box and gave it a quick look-over before pulling out some lettuce and mushrooms, the tomatoes and pita are on the counter. He’s giving the vegetables another wash when Haitham carefully pulls back the kitchen chair and takes a seat.
“Do you want any cheese?” he asks, closing the tap and drying his hands on the tea towel.
“No,” Haitham says simply, and Wriothesley nods, acting like he can’t feel the weight of the man’s gaze on his back.
He turns the cooker on and tosses the whole pita on the flame, it’ll take a few moments for the bread to char, so he probably shouldn’t have done it yet, but it’s too late to change his mind now.
He pulls down a plate, and sets it aside, pulling off a handful of lettuce leaves, slicing them so that they’re about equal in size.
He flips the pita over and makes quick work of the tomato, slicing first the bottom off so that it can sit level and then quickly cut them into equal enough slices, laying them out and sprinkling a pinch of salt over them so that they could dehydrate slightly. Soon as that’s done, he clicks off the flame and drops the pita on the plate, slicing it in half.
He dices the mushroom caps, setting the stalks aside because Haitham doesn’t seem to like having both textures at the same time. He could do stalk or cap, but he didn’t like both. Fine by Wriothesley, gave him something to munch on later.
Wriothesley slides the small pot of spices over and uses the spoon it contains to season the tomatoes. He adds another scoop, sifting it gently over the fruit slices until it seems like it’s too much for him. That’s how Alhaitham seems to prefer it, just a hair too much for Wriothesley’s consumption.
After that, it was quick work to divide the produce into each half of the pita, two sandwiches ready to go.
“Sorry there’s no meat,” Wriothesley said, setting the plate down in front of the scribe, trying not to read into why he doesn’t have a book.
“That’s fine,” Haitham murmurs, those two-toned eyes flaying him. Wriothesley turns to leave, but then there’s a hand around his wrist. “Stay.”
He freezes, that loop around his wrist not too tight, too strong, but burning through him.
He doesn’t argue, doesn’t speak, simply forces himself to pull out another seat and sinks into it.
The book stays away as Haitham begins to eat, the quiet sounds of it filling the room, but not in a bad way, just in… It’s comforting somehow.
The silence between them hangs until he finishes the first half of the sandwich, “So, you wanted to talk?”
“I did,” Wriothesley agreed, raising a brow and leaning back in his seat.
“Talk then,” Haitham shrugged.
Wriothesley chuckled, “Don’t you have a job to get to?”
Alhaitham shrugged again, that single shoulder thing he does. It’s not a lack of interest, at least with Wriothesley it isn’t, it’s merely him getting his point across in the simplest way possible.
“And you told me to just ask your friend, didn’t you?”
Alhaitham leans forward just slightly, “And would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Actually talk to my friend?”
Wriothesley blinked at him. Haitham leaned back in his seat, back straight as ever.
“If,” Wriothesley admitted quietly, “that’s what it takes to get things back to normal, I don’t see another path-
“Besides,” he shrugged, studying the wood grain on the table in front of him, “based on what you’ve said, or implied, or whatever-
“Doesn’t sound like there is much that your… Friend doesn’t already know.”
Alhaitham hummed lightly, “What would put you at ease here?”
“What do you mean?”
“If this is to work,” Haitham paused, “If I am to treat you as your own person, to not see you in the same light that I see Kaveh, I need to stop making assumptions.”
Wriothesley hummed, glancing at the other man.
There was the barest hint of a frown on his face, his eyebrows pulled together just so.
“How do you do it?” Wriothesley asked, barely a murmur.
“Do what?”
“Stay in control like that,” Wriothesley shrugged, doing his best to maintain the air of calm that radiated from the scribe at all times.
“It,” Haitham hesitated, his jaw ticking as he clenched and unclenched it. “It is easier for me to maintain control than it is to relinquish it.
“I derive pleasure from knowing that my partner, partners, are…”
The silence was less comfortable, a sea of words between them, and Wriothesley wasn’t sure if they were his to say or to hear. Alhaitham was never one to be particularly chatty, no, but it wasn’t like Wriothesley was either.
“Wriothesley, the way that you surrender control, surrender yourself to me is like the finest vintage of wine. I’ve never been a drunk, never liked not being in control of myself, but you- When I am with you and you are like that, I find it exceptionally difficult not to indulge, not to overindulge. Even as I worry about your drops, the drops you are so unconcerned with, I cannot help myself but to want to push you further, to ask you for more because you are always so eager to comply.”
Wriothesley pretended that he couldn’t feel his face burning at the man’s words, he held up a hand, “I don’t see how-”
“So while I do not understand your concerns, precisely, as they relate to Kaveh, I can, to a degree, understand what it is to feel at a loss for what to do in this situation.”
“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley nodded, swallowing thickly.
“That’s why I reached out to Zhongli,” Alhaitham murmured, “He is the only one that I could think of that would potentially have an answer. It is always best to defer to the experts, no?”
“Experts, huh,” Wriothesley scoffed, an amused smile curving his lips.
“Is that not why you wanted to talk to me?” Haitham volleyed back, amusement showing in the curve of his raised brow.
“Fair enough,” he agreed, nodding. “Do you-
“Should I write him a letter then?” Wriothesley sighed, deferring to Haitham’s expertise.
“As opposed to…?”
Wriothesley shrugged, “Based on how you told me to ask him myself, I suppose I just assumed that he would be visiting.”
Alhaitham blinked at him, gaze tracing his face before meeting his gaze once more, “Would that be acceptable to you?”
Wriothesley blinked back at him, “Is… it not your house?”
“And yours as well,” Haitham nodded, those brows furrowing once more. “But that doesn’t mean that you would want to discuss such things with him.
“Nor does it mean that he would be staying here. We don’t exactly have a guest room.”
“Not yet,” Wriothesley agreed, “But if Kaveh gets his way…”
A smile flickered across Haitham’s face and he nodded. “Speaking of Kaveh-
“Where is he?”
“Some meeting or another,” Wriothesley shrugged, “He didn’t have much time this morning before he ran out.”
“And even if he did,” Alhaitham sighed, “He is under some superstition or another where he doesn’t feel as though he can discuss a job before he’s fully landed it. That’s the same reason why he’s so hesitant to share the expansion designs with us, I’m sure.”
“Ah, so that’s what you’re waiting on,” Wriothesley muttered, leaning back in his seat, “And then I’m sure you’ll be just so happy to host Childe, hmm?”
Alhaitham said nothing, but the rush of irritation that almost filled the room as Haitham processed those words jolted a laugh from Wriothesley.
“I’m going back to work,” the scribe said, getting up from his chair with a shake of his head. “Would you like me to bring dinner back with me when I return?”
“Only if you bring enough for all of us and, of course, Tartaglia- After all, who knows when he’s going to show up, and-”
Alhaitham met his gaze as he dropped his headphones back onto his ears, fiddling with the small knob, indicating that he had checked completely out of the conversation, and Wriothesley couldn’t help the laugh that burst from him. Haitham hesitated where he was, but there was a flash of a smile on his lips as he turned back to leave for the afternoon.
Wriothesley glanced at the playpen, but it was as still now as it had been before he’d made the other man lunch.
He couldn’t help but to feel like, while the same things that weren’t solved this morning still weren’t solved now, he - they - were on a better position than they had been then.
And with that sorted, he considered as he slid the uneaten pita pocket into the cold box, now he was free to remember the sound that Kaveh had made, how his face had looked when his knees had hit the floor-
You know, considering how little of an impact on his life sex had ever had on him over the years, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it now. Not that it was only about the sex, was it?
He closed the cold box door and leaned against it.
The sex was just the thing that he could really focus on.
Because there was no point in thinking about what he wanted to do with his time, he couldn’t do anything other than what he was doing because he couldn’t leave the house yet. It was equally pointless to worry about how they were going to deal with the construction that was sure to come because Kaveh hadn’t yet shared the designs with him or Hayi or, likely, landed on a completed design- He’d been taking so many meetings lately, but it didn’t seem like he’d fully landed a job yet.
And thinking about sex…
Was easier than admitting that he was scared that he was going to ruin this.
Because it wasn’t just Kaveh that would be hurt if Wriothesley overstepped- Everything would be damaged. And he didn’t know if it was something that would be repairable.
If he pushed Kaveh too far, it would hurt Kaveh, that was a given. But it would damage his relationship with Haitham as well- there was no way that he would be okay with Wriothesley hurting the blond. And who knew what that would mean for his little family- He wouldn’t want to stay with Kaveh if even just seeing him hurt him, but he didn’t want to leave his daughter, his husband…
He didn’t like feeling like he was out of control, but there was a part of him that knew that he was.
There was no doubt that this would have become a problem at some point- He could still remember the thrill of panic that had lanced through him the first time that Kaveh had wrapped Wriothesley’s hand around his throat.
If anything, it was good that Alhaitham was involved with them now because, even though this attempt had not gone well, or last night’s he supposes, and communication had broken down, Wriothesley couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that, at least, he had someone to talk to about this.
It wasn’t as if Kaveh or Haitham seemed to have any difficulties talking about it, so… He should just embrace that- this and… Learn to talk about it. Talking to Zhongli might help, who knows.
Or maybe he could talk to Childe? Not- He wasn’t ready, he didn’t think, to talk about sex with the man, but… He would understand what it was to feel out of control, right? Considering his job and all?
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t talk to any of his friends, he just… Couldn’t. Rin might be able to understand, somewhat, but her relationship was so new and he couldn’t imagine that there was any chance that she’d had eyes for anyone other than Navia, so while his relationship with Haitham and Kaveh might be out of her realm and he didn’t exactly think that she would be able to move past that part to help him with the other part- The part that was… Well, the part of him that was scared of himself.
He pushed off the cold box and grabbed a rag out of the drawer, wetting it at the tap slightly and using it to wipe down the table and counter.
At least he knew that Haitham trusted him with Kaveh, for whatever reason. That counted for something, right?
He threw the rag into the sink and sighed.
It counted for something, it had to count for something.
He could not afford for this to not count for something, for this whole thing to not work.
He hadn’t had a family in decades and he’d been fine with that, he’d thought that it was fine, but now that he had one? He was not going to give it up.
Not without a fight.
And if that fight meant that he had to talk to random people, friends of friends, he supposed, then… That’s just what he was going to have to do.
How bad would it be, really? He’d been in prison, for fuck’s sake, he…
Yeah; he could do this.
As long as it meant that he would be able to keep this, keep his family, he could do anything- Would do anything.
It was going to be fine, everything was going to be fine.
He just needed to wait this out; as soon as he could leave, as soon as he could contribute to this household instead of just being a drain, a danger, it... Everything would be just fine.
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