Work Text:
“Oh, hey, you’re here. Did something happen? It’s rare for you to come home so late.”
Juggling an armful of groceries, Kaveh toes off his shoes and pushes them under the entryway’s bench, as neatly as one can using only their feet. He takes the pain to, for the nth time, righten Alhaitham’s shoes, which have been haphazardly left stacked up where anyone ― read: a drunk Kaveh ― could trip on them.
If this isn’t just a perfect metaphor for their relationship.
Alhaitham who has no regard for anyone but himself, and Kaveh who constantly cleans up after him…
“I went grocery shopping. Well, it’s not much since I didn’t have much to spare, but… Wouldn't be an issue if someone hadn’t let everything in the cryo box rot! Seriously, can’t you clean up after yourself?”
Kaveh chatters without waiting for a response. The kitchen lights turn on with a clink as he enters the room. The interior of the cryo box, dutifully cleaned by yours truly, sparkles as he puts in the fresh products.
“And when are you going to learn to stop leaving your stuff in the common areas? I had to clean up after you. Again! Do you think it’s fun to have to tidy up when I’m dead tired from a week of grueling work? You keep saying that I’m messy or whatever, but at least I keep it limited to my… What, what is it?”
His rant cuts off as he turns around only to find Alhaitham standing right behind him. Never before has he seen more ominous a sight; Alhaitham’s well-built frame, backlit from the kitchen light, his face obscured by shadows.
For a moment, Kaveh thinks he’s come face-to-face with some sort of evil doppelgänger.
“…You came back.”
“I… What?”
It takes a moment for Kaveh to understand the words. Alhaitham’s voice overwhelms the confined space, resonating in his ears.
“Why? Were you hoping I wouldn’t?”
“No.”
“…What’s with you? Did something happen? No way, I haven’t heard anything… Did the Akademiya catch fire?”
Kaveh busies himself with tidying up the rest of the groceries, unwilling to admit his growing uneasiness. Goosebumps erupt along his arms as he tucks a piece of wrapped meat into the cryo box. Like ants crawling under his skin, he feels a dark stare digging into him, following each move with detailed inspection.
Is this what microorganisms feel, when trapped under a microscope? Kaveh suddenly empathizes with his own microbiome.
“Where were you?”
“Where? I told you. I went on an expedition with the traveler.”
Kaveh dares to peek over his shoulder as he says this. Alhaitham’s face darkens, marking the first shift in expression.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“Well, yeah, you left before I could remember to. But I wrote you a note, didn’t I? Unless you’ve suddenly forgotten how to read. I’m making dinner, by the way. Are you staying or eating out?”
Kaveh takes out a kitchen knife and cutting board. As he shows his back to Alhaitham, the animal fear of being vulnerable with a predator beast nearly makes him flee the room. He knows the reaction to be entirely unwarranted and utterly strange, and yet. His voice ends up shaking on the last few words.
His throat feels dry. He tries to swallow, discreetly.
The worst part is, he should be used to this. Alhaitham makes his body react in the strangest ways.
Alhaitham is silent for long enough that Kaveh starts to hope he’s left.
“There wasn’t one.”
“M-Mhm?”
“You didn’t leave a note.”
“What…? Yes, I did. Let me see.”
The cutting board is abandoned as Kaveh dodges around Alhaitham and into the main room. He tries to not let it show that he’s fleeing.
It’s been over two weeks, so naturally the note is no longer there, but it’s not hard to guess what happened. Alhaitham’s footsteps follow him just in time to witness Kaveh bend down and effortlessly fish a dusty slip of paper from under the couch.
He holds it up triumphantly, grinning. “See? I told you.”
On his way back into the kitchen, he dares to poke it into Alhaitham’s chest.
A hand closes around his wrist, forcing his palm to press flat against Alhaitham. His eyes jerk up to meet his gaze.
That horrible animal instinct ― that fear of some predator beast about to devour him whole ― resurfaces with a terrible start, shaking his heart. His pulse jackrabbits under Alhaitham’s hold. Surely, he can feel it in the thumb pressed over Kaveh’s wrist.
But none of that shows on Alhaitham’s face.
For the first time, Kaveh takes the time to understand what he’s looking at.
Usually studious and serene eyes, darkened with emotion that has lingered for too long. What happens when someone so detached from reality is suddenly plunged back due to overwhelming feelings? What would they look like?
Kaveh thinks he’s looking at that person right now.
Like a child experiencing his first anger, who does not yet know how to express his feelings of loss and betrayal, Alhaitham holds his wrist as tightly as he can. Alhaitham, so often limited to memorized politeness and well-meaning criticisms to express his care, can only bruise his wrist now.
But what is he trying to say?
For the first time in years, Kaveh doesn’t know how to answer.
“No way… Don’t tell me. You thought I’d left for good?”
“You said you would.”
“What? When did I say that? Anyway, there’s nowhere else to go― ow! Hey!”
Alhaitham’s hand tightens around his wrist.
“You said you were leaving.”
“If everything I said came true, I would be king of the world. Seriously, what’s with you! You’re hurting me!”
As if a child scolded, Alhaitham instantly lets go. Kaveh folds his arm against his chest and rubs the tender skin. It’s already gone red.
His legs sway, hesitating between going back to the kitchen and staying to investigate. His worry wins out.
“Why wouldn’t I come back? Don’t you know by now that I have nowhere else? Anyway, even if I have to bear your constant nagging, staying here is―”
“Kaveh.”
His chatter cuts. Two hands have suddenly grabbed at his biceps, fingers digging slightly into his flesh from the strong grip. Alhaitham looks at him with an intensity reserved for complex algebra and TCG.
He still hasn’t learned not to grasp things too tightly, lest they break. Kaveh, tongue heavy, doesn’t want to tell him.
“I’ll treat you well.”
“…Huh?”
“So don’t run away.”
“Wh… What are you saying?”
The hands slide off his arms, leaving him swaying in place until they cup around his waist. Before Kaveh can begin to parse through Alhaitham’s words, his body has been pushed forward.
“Hmph…”
All the air is expelled from his lungs. Pale hair tickles the left side of his face, a broad chest beats a calm rhythm against his. Strong arms hold him close, hands splayed out against the small of his back and the displayed skin between his shoulder blades. They burn like a branding iron. He feels, more than anything, the slight moisture of Alhaitham’s fingertips.
Kaveh’s heartbeat picks up. His tongue presses against the back of his front teeth.
Is Alhaitham possessed? Why is he… Why is he suddenly hugging him?
This intimacy is one that Alhaitham has always refused him, starting from their youthful days, but now, today of all days, he decides to align their heartbeats.
Because he left for a week?
For a moment, his throat can’t make a sound.
“Alhaitham, are you… No, never mind.”
How can he ask? You need to approach wild animals carefully, lest they run away or bite your feeding hand.
He pats the muscular valleys of Alhaitham’s back.
Alhaitham’s voice rumbles into his left ear. He feels it tickling the back of his throat, thick and sickening like honey.
“I’ll make dinner.”
“Oh… We can make it together.”
“No. You must be tired. And you already cleaned up and went grocery shopping.”
Kaveh pushes against Alhaitham’s chest, finally freeing himself from the embrace. Strands of his hair clings to Alhaitham’s clothes, as if refusing to leave. Alhaitham allows the movement, but doesn’t remove his hands. They slide to circle his waist again.
When Alhaitham presses slightly, his thumbs dig into the soft flesh beyond his hip bones. Is Kaveh too self-conscious? He feels the movement even beyond his clothes.
His own breathing echoes in his ears, at odds with his heartbeat.
“Aren’t you the one always complaining I’m not doing my chores?”
“I won’t do it anymore.”
“I… What?”
Kaveh mistrusts his hearing. Did Alhaitham, the guy who nags more than a mother-in-law, just say he won’t tell Kaveh to do household chores anymore?
“Say, have you seen a doctor yet? Do you need me to accompany you to Bimarstan? Or Tighnari’s? Do the people know our Scribe has lost his mind?”
“Noisy.”
Kaveh starts to relax at that familiar one-word complaint. Then, he spots the soft lip curl on Alhaitham’s face, and the world stops making sense again.
His waist is squeezed one last time, before Alhaitham leaves for the kitchen. That slight squeeze of his stomach area is felt like a punch; all air leaves him, and his capacity for speech alongside. His brain struggles to follow.
“Wait, I can do it…”
“Kaveh.”
A single call of his name, and his mouth snaps shut.
“Go rest.”
While his brain lags behind, Kaveh’s body is obedient. He nods his head, legs already moving toward his room before his brain can reconnect.
The door closes behind him.
Shell shocked, Kaveh is left standing in the middle of his room like an idiot. He has to swallow the saliva that’s pooled in his mouth. Never before has his body reacted so strongly to Alhaitham.
…What just happened?
The worst part isn’t even that Alhaitham’s dinner, that night, is delicious.
No, the worst part, is that this strange behavior continues, and not just for one day. Kaveh would have even accepted a few days ― up to three, really ―, but as the week passes and Alhaitham’s nonsense doesn’t falter, he’s forced to come to the realization that the normal he’s used to… has already completely shattered.
Here’s an example:
Two days after Kaveh returned home and found Alhaitham with his mind lost, he briefly leaves the house to meet a client.
Forget the fact that Alhaitham watches him the whole time he’s running around the house with last-second tasks, forget even the fact that Alhaitham walks with him to the door and wishes him a good day. Forget that Alhaitham’s face, then, softened by the shellfish-pink morning light, makes Kaveh’s stomach folds in on itself.
The worst part is when he comes back home.
When he tucks his shoes to the side, he finds that Alhaitham’s own pair has also been tidied away. It’s not exactly as Kaveh would do it. They’re not perpendicular, for one, and they’re not completely shadowed by the entranceway bench either.
But as he’s crouched over, staring at that strange sight, Kaveh has to swallow the habitual retort.
“Kaveh?”
“Mh?”
He glances over his shoulder, and finds that Alhaitham is looking at him from within the kitchen. A well-used apron showcases his figure with a narrow tie at the waist. It’s Kaveh’s, sporting some old acrylic paint stains.
“Is something wrong?”
“No… I’m just surprised you managed to clean up after yourself, for once.”
Alhaitham’s gaze flickers to the shoes.
Finally regaining his sanity, Kaveh puts away his shoes and stands up.
“Took you long enough. Do you know how many times I nearly brained myself, tripping over them? Seriously, what would you have done if I’d actually died?”
“Sorry.”
“I… What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Alhaitham repeats, raising his voice and pronouncing clearly.
“You’re… sorry? What?”
“I didn't know this put you at risk. I will make sure to put them away from now on.”
“…Are you sick? Go lie down.”
“I’m not.”
“Couch. Right now. I’m not carrying you if you faint.”
“Kaveh, I’m not…”
He doesn’t listen to Alhaitham’s protesting, and instead mimes pushing Alhaitham towards the common room. Naturally, he’s not actually strong enough to move him, but Alhaitham moves along anyway.
“Do you feel cold?”
“I’m not sick.”
Kaveh lays his hand over Alhaitham’s forehead. His palm tingles with heat, but he can’t tell if it comes from Alhaitham or himself.
“You don’t feel too warm… Lie down already.”
“…Kaveh.”
Alhaitham finally gives up, and lies down on the couch. Lying there, he gazes up at Kaveh with an expression of: what now?
“I’ll get you some water. Maybe you’re just dehydrated. Don’t move.”
“Alright.”
More than those persistent eyes, it’s that strange obedience that he flees.
A strong smell of spices fills the kitchen. Something bubbles over the stove, rich with color. An assortment of cold dishes has already been laid out on the table.
As he watches the water fill up the cup, Kaveh tilts his head forward. It’s a vain attempt to hide his expression, here where no one is watching.
He thought he’d gotten used to Alhaitham offering to do the dishes.
But this…
Kaveh thinks he might be the one who knows him best, from early teenage-hood to, now, slowly reaching their thirties. Over a decade they have known each other, and never once have they hid their true selves from the other.
Although far from cruel or mean-spirited, and never the heartless man outsiders perceive him as, Alhaitham is not a saint either.
Above all, there’s something Kaveh is sure of: Alhaitham won’t apologize.
Not for this, and not to him.
As most things related to himself, he’s not sure why. Perhaps pride, or perhaps due to habit. He used to be cute and obedient when young, but after their separation, he gained this bad habit of reaching for criticism first and politeness tenth.
It’s not even that he lacks empathy. It’s just that he doesn’t show it when it comes to Kaveh.
So why now?
What should be a welcome turn in their relationship has instead filled Kaveh with an overwhelming grief.
Why does it feel like Alhaitham is treating him like a stranger?
And if not like a stranger, then… how does he see Kaveh? Who is he to Alhaitham?
What does Alhaitham want him to be?
The first week passes, and with it, Alhaitham’s behavior doesn’t falter once.
Now on high-alert, Kaveh keeps a close eye on his every action.
He doesn’t stop at cleaning up his shoes, or doing the dishes more often. He no longer leaves his outerwear slung over the couch ― or at least, actually goes to put it away when Kaveh complains. He swipes his boots on the carpet and shakes the sand from his coat before entering. He offers to pay for their groceries, even when Kaveh is the one doing the shopping alone.
He even witnesses Alhaitham attempt to tidy away his piles of books, left stranded and forgotten in nearly every room. Predictably, as soon as Alhaitham finds a book that reignites an interest, he’ll sit down on the nearest surface and forget everything for a good few hours…
But it’s the thought that counts.
And it’s the thought that disturbs Kaveh.
It would be one thing if Alhaitham had realized his untidiness on his own and decided to do something about it. Kaveh would have even praised him for it.
But from the way Alhaitham put it, it sounds more like…
Like he’s doing it for Kaveh.
He’s doing it because Kaveh asked him to.
Because he doesn’t want Kaveh to leave him.
Because he thinks Kaveh would leave him over…
A week and a half after the first incident, Kaveh wakes up to another surprise.
It stares back at him right as he’s about to head out for a stroll, searching for inspiration. There, in the entryway, a habitually-empty vase now shines with the full bloom of a resplendent bouquet.
“Alhaitham?”
He calls hesitantly. A moment later, Alhaitham appears in the doorway.
“…What is this?”
“Flowers.”
“I know that. Why are they here?”
“Should I put the vase elsewhere?”
Alhaitham’s expression is sincere as he asks this. Not for the first time since they met, Kaveh wants to tear his hair out.
“I’m asking why you… Oh, why do I bother? Fine.”
Grumbling under his breath, he lifts the vase and repositions it where it won’t clash horribly with its surroundings. Freshly cut, the morning dew lingers on the petals. A drop slides down, but hesitates to fall, pearling up at the petal tip.
Kaveh, too, hesitates to trust the fall.
Instead, he busies himself with inconsequential things.
“Where did you even get this? Did some yearning flower gift you these?”
“…Why would a ‘yearning flower’ give me anything?”
Kaveh turns around, disbelieving. Faced with Alhaitham’s deadpan expression, he crosses his arms.
“It’s an image! I’m talking about those countless women who, for some unfathomable reason, admire you.”
“I don’t know anyone like that.”
“Obviously! You wouldn’t know a sumpter beast if it bit you.”
“I would.”
“You…! It’s an image. Image!”
Only Alhaitham’s barely-suppressed teasing smile keeps Kaveh from leaping to strangle him.
Alhaitham steps closer, forcing Kaveh back. His lower back presses against the table. Moist leaves and petal tips trace patterns into his spine.
He watches warily as Alhaitham lifts his hand, but he only touches the colorful petals. Kaveh is so distracted by that tan skin, glistening slightly from the morning dew, that he nearly jumps out of his skin when Alhaitham’s other hand lands on his bicep.
“I wouldn’t accept flowers from someone I didn’t know. These, I bought myself. Although, it was on someone else’s advice.”
At these last words, Alhaitham’s eyes focus on Kaveh.
He really should be used to this. But Kaveh’s brain has once again faltered, at the weight of that hand on him. Perhaps Alhaitham is aware of what he’s doing to him. Why else would he insist on doing it so often?
“Do you like them?”
“Do I… What does it matter?”
“I bought them for you.”
Kaveh lets out a shuddering breath. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath.
“What… What’s the occasion? Are you still trying to butter me up? I already told you I won’t leave, um, leave…”
He almost said ‘leave you.’
As if they’re together. As if they’re anything.
Alhaitham is watching him so intently, Kaveh doesn’t know what to do. As if he’s returned back to teenage-hood, he doesn’t know where to put his hands, and has the urge to check his hair.
“Do you like them?” Alhaitham repeats.
“L-like? Yeah, sure.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… Yes, they’re beautiful. Why?”
Alhaitham smiles.
As always with him, the movement is slight, barely noticeable to anyone not paying close attention. But the crease of the skin around his eyes, the reflecting light that appears in the depths of his pupils, and the slight exhale of air through his nose, as if amused ― Kaveh has memorized them all. He’s had dreams of this.
And it’s… happening because Kaveh said he liked the flowers?
Suddenly, he no longer wants to know why Alhaitham bought them.
“I bought them because I thought you would like them. That’s all.”
“Ah… is that… so.”
“You complained that this vase was often empty. I pass by a florist every day, on my way to work. It’s a simple arrangement.”
As if noticing Kaveh’s sudden terror, Alhaitham returns to an almost-mathematical perspective. If: no flowers, then: buy new ones, otherwise: Kaveh will complain. Yet another task to be taken care of, without a single shred of emotion or significance.
If he’d said this just a moment sooner, if he hadn’t smiled so tenderly, if his hand weren’t still burning an imprint into his skin; perhaps, Kaveh would have been fooled.
But now, as if on the cusp of achieving enlightenment, the truth tickles at his brain.
He refuses to look at it in the eye.
Kaveh casually shrugs his shoulders, dislodging Alhaitham’s hand. With a voice that trembles even to his own ears, he flees to his usual routine.
“Do you even know what flowers and color schemes would fit? Let me go draft up a list. Seriously, what would you do without me… And just so you know, I can buy my own flowers!”
As he dutifully writes down a list, Kaveh feels, piercing his bones and flesh, the calculating gaze of the predator beast he lives with.
Recently, Kaveh has begun alternating between holing himself up in his room ― and staying out of the house for as long as possible.
It’s not even that he intends to. As soon as he leaves his room, he’s confronted by Alhaitham’s presence. Even when he’s not there, he lingers in the scents and colors, and the pleasant feeling of a new carpet under his bare soles.
Today once again, Kaveh attempts to flee the house with the most convenient excuse available.
But his plan falls through as he’s stopped in the entranceway, putting on his shoes. Alhaitham speaks up from where he’s reading in the common area.
“Where are you going?”
“…I’ve run out of gum arabic, to make my watercolors. I’ll also go grocery shopping, while I’m at it. Anything you want me to get?”
“I’ll come with you.”
“…What?”
It takes a moment for Kaveh to understand what he’s hearing. He watches as Alhaitham stands from the couch, abandoning his book. He lays it face down on the table, that uncivilized fool.
“You’re coming with?”
“Yes. Are we going now?”
Kaveh nods mutely.
Outside, the world is the same as always, uncaring that Kaveh’s worldview has been shattered a thousand times in just one instant.
No, compared to what has been happening recently, is Alhaitham coming with for grocery shopping really that strange? It must be for efficiency’s sake. Maybe he just felt too lazy to voice or write down what he wanted Kaveh to buy.
The skyline has already turned pink, yet the merchants linger in the streets. Familiar faces and voices greet Kaveh as he walks through the streets.
But where they would usually accost Kaveh and hang onto his arm until there was nothing more to say, today, they limit themselves to small talk. The way they look at Alhaitham, standing silently by Kaveh’s side, really says it all. Where Kaveh’s grocery trip would usually take hours, they’re already on their way back barely an hour later.
But not even Alhaitham’s presence can keep Kaveh from window-shopping. His steps slow as they near the artists’ stands.
The city lights reflect in precious gems, welded into delicately-shaped metals, begging any witness to wear them. Paintings of all sizes, mesmerizing in their colors, showcase the discreet mountains and valleys of their paint layers. The strong smell of a nearby food stall drifts over the street, taking advantage of those appreciating the goods. A bard plays a lively tune, sitting on the roof of a closed shop, with his cap turned upside down on the ground below.
Kaveh is mid-admiration of a scented bar of soap when he remembers he’s not alone. As he turns his head back, he fully expects Alhaitham to have already left.
But there he is, meeting Kaveh’s gaze with a placid expression.
His hearing aids blink slowly, powered down, and surely he must be uncomfortable, surrounded by so many people. In their youth, how many times did Kaveh drag him away to their hidden place, just to take care of this person who silently struggled? Surely, in adulthood, Alhaitham has gained enough self-preservation skills.
And yet, here he is.
Kaveh swallows. His mouth has filled with a strange taste. Sweet, cloying, reminiscent of honey.
It’s a feeling that only comes when they’re together.
His mouth moves.
“Al… Haitham.”
Alhaitham’s eyes are on his lips, reading. He waits for Kaveh to continue.
Kaveh has to swallow again. He’s sure that Alhaitham, staring at his lips, can see the movement.
“Let’s go home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ye… Yes.”
Forget Alhaitham, Kaveh is in no state to continue. His vision sways as he walks.
On the fourth step, he feels something against his back. It spans from his upper left to his lower right; it’s Alhaitham’s arm, holding his waist.
As if it’s nothing. As if it means nothing.
Kaveh can only look forward, putting one step in front of the other. He holds the grocery bags like a lifeline. As has become habit recently, an overwhelming fear renders him near-immobile. Only Alhaitham’s arm pushes him forward.
In that street filled with people, he can only hear Alhaitham’s footsteps.
What if he’s wrong?
Because he thought Kaveh had left him, Alhaitham now butters him up to convince him to stay.
Is it really that simple?
Is there anything simple about that?
Why would Alhaitham want him to stay? Is it because Kaveh is his closest friend? Is it because it’s more convenient with someone else to do the chores? Is it because he would feel lonely alone?
And how can Kaveh get it to stop?
How can he ask Alhaitham to stop? How can he explain that this kindness, that the gifts and handholding and lingering gazes, all of them hurt him?
And what if it’s a phase?
Once he accepts, and inevitably it all comes to an end, will Kaveh ever recover? Once they start, can things ever go back to how they were?
Most terrifying of all: what if he’s right?
Either unaware or uncaring of Kaveh’s fears, Alhaitham’s behavior doesn’t let up.
Nowadays, whenever Kaveh scolds him, Alhaitham no longer argues back. Apart from a few teasing remarks from time to time, he does attempt to follow Kaveh’s directives. Not one to be defeated, Kaveh also makes an effort to listen to Alhaitham’s constant nagging without immediately assuming it’s in bad faith.
One week, Alhaitham takes him out to dinner for the anniversary of their 13 years of friendship. The next, he takes him out for the anniversary of the first time they worked on a school project together. The following, it’s the anniversary of their first meal together. And so it goes, until finally, Alhaitham only has to say ‘anniversary’ without specifying which one.
Kaveh, who can barely remember what he did an hour ago let alone what happened over a decade prior, has no room to deny any of those.
And the flowers, in a constant cycle of blooming and wilting, end up dried and cast into resin, forever preserved.
If only he could forever preserve this feeling as well. A could-be, would-be, if-only dance, wherein Alhaitham leads him into the depths of the unknown, while Kaveh digs his heels into the ground and refuses to stare into the abyss.
But something has to give.
Can one live in uncertainty forever? What does it mean when Alhaitham holds his hands, in the city streets illuminated by street lamps? What does it mean when he accompanies Kaveh to his bedroom door?
Something has to give, and that something is Kaveh’s willful obliviousness.
Nearly a month after this all started, he finally admits defeat.
Kaveh dies a thousand times in his mind as he struggles to come to a decision. Anticipatory embarrassment fills his body with dread.
Already dressed to go out, he pretends to busy himself with last-second tasks, checking his reflection in the mirror, checking that the stove is off, anything that’ll make him look less like a fool. But his feet inevitably circle around the common area, passing behind the couch like he’s some sort of malfunctioning homing missile.
On the sixth pass, Alhaitham finally lifts his head from his book. His expression doesn’t reveal anything, but Kaveh reads exasperated amusement anyway.
Caught, he jerks his chin up.
“I’m, I’m going out.”
“Alright.”
Kaveh’s shoulders jolt. Alhaitham continues before he can actually die from burnt pride.
“Where are you going?”
“Just… on a walk. There aren’t that many people outside, today… So I’m taking advantage of that, I mean.”
They stare at each other for a beat.
“Can I come?”
Kaveh’s eyelids open wide. He inhales sharply, and holds in the breath.
He wonders if Alhaitham also felt this nervous.
“Yeah, sure.”
“A moment, then.”
It’s a date.
Just like when Alhaitham accompanies him on his errands, for no particular reason, or like the few times he’s had them eat out, with the excuse of laziness or anniversaries. They’ve never put a definition to it, but it’s a date, right?
The sounds of Alhaitham getting ready lull his brain into pensiveness.
Kaveh plays the drum on the flesh of his bicep, arms crossed. His eyes flit around the room. With Alhaitham’s absence, he can only reassure himself with the evidence of his care.
The weight of his own arms on his chest reminds him of this very morning. As Kaveh was preparing their morning beverages, Alhaitham came up behind him and… well, embraced him.
In his mind’s eye, he still sees Alhaitham’s hands falling over the plane of his stomach, fingertips brushing against his pants.
At least, a fish caught on a hook knows to struggle, but Kaveh remained frozen in place.
And then, Alhaitham gently pulled him backwards. As though two fitting puzzle pieces, Kaveh’s body fit perfectly against Alhaitham’s. Was it just an impression? Has his mind been poisoned? At that moment, only their heartbeats, one slow and the other beating a military drum, could differentiate his body from Alhaitham’s.
For an instant, when he’d finally gained the courage to turn his head and met Alhaitham’s eyes, he’d thought they would breach that final line.
He feels dizzy with it, the lingering heat of Alhaitham’s body.
Already, his mind has already been convinced. If only he had the courage, he would leap into Alhaitham’s arms and get the both of them concussions. That same overwhelming fear, the one that has trapped him into a dizzying back-and-forth for weeks now, keeps him rooted in his spot.
Alhaitham comes back to stand by his side, adjusting his gloves slightly. The tight fabric snaps back against his skin.
He doesn’t look too different than usual, and yet. Maybe Kaveh is imagining things. Maybe it’s because he himself spent nearly an hour deciding which earrings to wear and which in shape he should paint his eyeliner, but he feels like something about Alhaitham’s appearance is different.
As though dressing up for a date.
Kaveh’s face heats up at the thought. He wets his lips, parched.
“Ready to go?”
“Y-yeah…”
Alhaitham seems oblivious to Kaveh’s plight.
As though it’s nothing.
As though he doesn’t realize.
Kaveh’s heart trembles, caught in the storm. For the first time since this started, he desperately wants to tell Alhaitham what’s on his mind. What it’ll mean if Alhaitham accepts, if they step through that door, a point of no-return.
It’s one thing if they go out to grocery shop, it’s another thing if they’re celebrating one anniversary or another. It’s an entirely different beast to go out, just the two of them, for no reason at all.
This time, they won’t have any excuse. They won’t be together for the sake of something else. They’ll be together for the sake of being together.
It’s terrifying.
Is he allowed to want this?
“Alhaitham… are you sure you want to come?”
“Why?”
“Because… it’ll be different after. It won’t be the same.”
“I won’t be able to come back?”
Kaveh’s tongue turns thrice in his mouth. He considers each syllable, each possible interpretation, each way this could end in tragedy, and takes the leap anyway.
“That’s right. This home will no longer exist.”
Alhaitham’s eyes crease at the corners. At that moment, he looks so incredibly fond that Kaveh almost thinks he’s fallen into a dream.
“Then, we’ll build a new one.”
“…What?”
“Is that not your field of expertise?”
When he puts it like that, it’s so easy.
So what if everything crashes and burns? So what if nothing can ever be the same? So what if he’s wrong, and so what if he’s right? No matter what, at least, he knows Alhaitham will be here with him. Of this, he’s certain.
He’s always been certain. Why was he so afraid?
Now that he’s been fed a taste of Alhaitham’s affection, now that he knows what it feels like to have Alhaitham’s body against his, what it feels like to have Alhaitham’s care and attention, to have someone whom he loves next to him… can he go back? Will he be satisfied if he goes back?
Hasn’t their home already been destroyed once? Isn’t it already crumbling now?
Through Alhaitham’s calculated gentleness, and through Kaveh’s insatiable appetite.
Kaveh was too busy looking at everything he risked losing, he couldn’t accept that Alhaitham has been pushing them forward all along.
They can no longer go back.
He doesn’t want to go back.
And, seeing him right now, it’s become obvious Alhaitham doesn’t want to go back either.
Tomorrow, when Alhaitham embraces him from behind again, will he finally kiss him?
“…Yes,” Kaveh says, smiling too. “Let’s rebuild one together.”