[ despite the tendrils of a powerful hangover sneaking into his mind, it's the best night of sleep alhaitham has gotten in the week since they'd parted ways at the akademiya. dreamless, but not in the corrupt sense of the past - rather the exhaustion was so thorough that even the scribe's mind was too tired to do much of anything else but rest, although there was a distant, comforting presence, a warmth that stayed alongside him through the night. he just wasn't fully aware that presence was actually kaveh, a prisoner to alhaitham's subconscious as the most instinctual part of his mind did its best to gather what it needed; reprieve. comfort. reassurance.
all things he'd never admit out loud and would brush off if ever asked, but the scribe's own body had betrayed him to speak for him.
that familiar warm feeling is why alhaitham is a little surprised to wake up to an empty bed - mm, the blonde's presence beside him at night had been something he'd gotten used to with a terrifying speed - but instead to the pleasant smell of freshly brewed coffee. with a quiet groan, he sits tenderly up in the bed as his sluggish mind starts ticking over again, the painful pounding behind his eyes all the reprimand he needed for thinking it was a good idea to drink so goddamn much last night. but, thankfully, he remembers everything up until - he assumes - he fell asleep on the couch or staggered in here.
sleep-glazed eyes glance at the coffee steaming away on the bedside table, one that couldn't have been made more than what, five, ten minutes ago? and there's a strange sense of deja vu spiked with irony that now he was on the receiving end of the hangover cure. it hadn't been more than two or three months since he'd been plying kaveh with a similar endlessly black brew as they'd stumbled over revelations and (sometimes poorly chosen) words together, and... well. the nostalgia, considering the door that had been re-opened last night, wasn't unpleasant.
the silver-haired man is just raising the cup to his lips and taking the world's longest sip as the object of said nostalgia re-enters the room, holding a coffee of his own. it's still a little odd to see him back in the house, even more so in alhaitham's bedroom considering the past week - but alcohol for the scribe does nothing for his confidence, only for his escape.
despite that, no words his mind can select seem good enough. evenly, his tired mind picks the most inoffensive opener he could think of; ]
Thanks for the coffee. [ but the habitual sass sneaks out anyway, because alhaitham is way too sore to resist. ] It's not terrible.
[ Despite the ease in his heart, and how little proper rest he has earned over the past week, for Kaveh sleep does not come so easily. Or, to put it more correctly, it comes and goes in bursts, lulling him into the world of dreams only to wake him with a start some time later, eyes open wide in the darkness and heart pounding in his chest until he's lucid enough to remember the events of the evening, to recognize the solidness of Alhaitham's form against him, wrapped around him,
until he recalls that he's not alone anymore.
Better than he's managed in a week, and hand in hand with the belief that it will only get better from here, but still restless— which is why (paired with the hangover, he's sure) Kaveh is awake in the end so much earlier than the other man, lying in the soft wash of morning light and listening to his breathing, thinking over how badly they nearly ruined things— again— over a misunderstanding. It's too much to bear, and in the end he gets out of bed early, not exactly wanting to leave but wanting to keep himself busy, and so by the time Alhaitham wakes up, Kaveh's things are back where they belong, the kitchen is cleaned, there's coffee on the table and the blonde is walking back into the other's bedroom with coffee of his own, and toast on a plate in his other hand, ready to work its magic on that hangover.
His eyes roll at the sass, and the rejoinder is quick to find his tongue, a joke that isn't funny, something about moving out, and Kaveh swallows its bitter taste as he shakes his head, moving to sit next to the other on the bed. ]
I moved my things back where they belong, [ he says instead, holding out the plate of toast. Where he belongs. He's not going anywhere. But still, he can't help but add a little snark of his own, even as his shoulder comes flush with the other man's: ] The house looked embarrassingly dull without them.
[ Worse than that, it looked wrong in a way Kaveh couldn't quite place. For all those months he'd made noise about moving out, finding his own space— when he finally did, even for a week, nothing about it was right.
He sips at his own coffee, gaze falling to the plate between them. ]
Mm. [ he acknowledges without words in lieu of taking another long drink from his coffee, the caffeine singing in his veins and chasing away the worst edges of the hangover. ] I hope you hung all those paintings straight.
[ the mattress dips as kaveh sits next to him on the bed, the graceful slant of his shoulder pressing against the scribe's own. one of the most frustrating things about the blonde was how perfectly together he always managed to look - unaffected and devastatingly beautiful even after the worst nights and most trying days. today, too, he looks simply radiant in the morning sumeru sunshine filtering through the window, long fingers angled around the round of his cup, while alhaitham is fully aware he looks like absolute shit.
fair enough too, considering to some degree, he still feels like shit, at least - physically. emotionally he's relieved, but even alhaitham isn't socially detached enough to think that what had transpired between them could be easily papered over or forgotten, much like their dramatic falling out after they'd written their cooperative thesis.
the taller man's eyes drop to the plate too, and even though he doesn't overly feel like eating he knows it's probably in his best interests to ingest something solid that wasn't alcohol or caffeine - so, with that even, unbothered expression of his, he takes a piece and bites into it.
it gives him a moment to think, turn over in his head how the atmosphere in the room feels like things had gone back to normal yet were completely different at the same time, only emphasised by kaveh's comment. after a brief silence, those intense teal irises fix back on the architect's face with a look far more focused than he felt. ]
This place feels strange without you in it. [ alhaitham offers, because he's still raw and unsettled by how much all of this had affected him, how quickly he'd sunk into ruin. of course he'd missed kaveh too. ] I hadn't realised just how many things you snuck in here.
[ and he finishes the slice of toast unhurriedly before following up: ]
[ The comment about the paintings is met with another roll of his eyes, but he's otherwise silent, watching as Alhaitham takes a piece of toast, bites into it, slowly makes his way through it in between an admission that cuts Kaveh to the core. And if he knew that the other was wondering how he looks so good he might laugh, because Kaveh feels like he's the one that looks like shit, that Alhaitham, despite his hangover, looks peaceful and relaxed in the morning sunlight—
But he does want to talk, and so he nods, putting the plate aside, reaching with newly-freed fingers to catch Alhaitham's hand in an echo of the night before, buttery remnants of toast on his fingers aside. Like always, there are hundreds of moving pieces that have come together in the very same pattern as they have before, forcing them apart before drawing them back together. And where Alhaitham recognizes the cyclical nature of it, accepts it as perhaps part of their story, Kaveh yearns to solve it, to find the parts that are wrong and fix them so they never have to go through this pain again.
The problem, perhaps, is that he has no idea where they're meant to start— apart, of course, from the very beginning. Which is...
Well. Perhaps the very beginning is a little too far out of his reach for now. But they can start from the beginning of this fight, at the very least. ]
Mm... You said last night that it was a test. Right? Paying off my debt with Dori. Will you tell me more about it?
[ Alhaitham was testing, he said, Kaveh's obligation to stay versus his want— but why? ]
[ alhaitham's gaze is even as he stares back at kaveh down long lashes, expression unreadable despite the state he was in. unlike last night when his defenses had begun to crumble, not enough focus or energy to maintain the nonchalance that he wears like a protective skin, the scribe had gone back to being his usual stoic self. it's somewhat of a relief to him really, because despite his inscrutable expression he's deeply uncomfortable at the question.
talking facts was easy - they were inarguable. rolled off the tongue like reciting a script, because there was nothing to question. this question? was hard. ]
I'm unsure what else there is to say about it.
[ alhaitham starts, his voice still somewhat hoarse from his escapades the previous night. fine araq was delicious, but it certainly burned on the way down. ]
It was something that had bothered you for some time, and seemed to intertwine with other issues you'd mentioned in the past. Mora isn't a particularly large concern of mine, so paying it off presented itself as an ingenious idea; one less thing that irritated you, and a litmus test for whether or not your old complaints were genuine.
[ either he doesn't think the 'why' is relevant to the explanation, or he's purposely avoiding it - either or, he seems satisfied with his answer. ]
Obviously, the results were not what I expected.
[ a pause, as his eyes flick between their entwined fingers and then back up to kaveh. the discomfort of the topic has obviously made the scribe physically shut off at least to some degree, the awkwardness of having to explain emotive, subjective matters causing him to stiffen slightly. ]
If we're asking searching questions, why did you immediately move out if you didn't feel obligated to stay here?
[ Perhaps, Kaveh thinks, he should have let them continue the conversation while Alhaitham was drunk. It wouldn't have been right, of course, but it would have been easier— right now, the architect can practically see the shell Alhaitham has projected around himself in his sober state, the stiffness to his form that comes from being forced to speak on his feelings—
Which means, Kaveh reasons, that there's more to it than the other man is letting on, that the "why" of the matter he's so carefully avoided is something deeper than he wants Kaveh to know— perhaps deeper than he knows himself. And he doesn't want to make the other man uncomfortable, especially not now, but if they want to fix this, to truly mend it and prevent similar things from happening yet again in their future, he needs to understand.
So, he tightens his hold on the other's hand, looks at him in silence for a moment, considering the things he's said, the things left unsaid, the things floating indecipherable in the space between them. ]
I promise I'll answer you— [ he replies, voice soft ] —but first I need you to trust me enough to tell me everything, Alhaitham. Even the parts you don't want to tell me.
[ The coffee is put aside with the plate, and Kaveh's free hand moves up to brush fingers along the younger's jaw, gently urging— without force, so that the other can resist if he wishes— Alhaitham to look at him instead of their tangled fingers. ]
If I don't understand why you were testing me, then I promise you that I'll fail every single test you design for me in the future, and I don't want to put us through this again.
[ with a sigh that could be just as much frustration as it was fatigue, alhaitham at least allows the other to tilt his head upwards. it was always hard to resist kaveh's almost innocent insistence, even if the scribe feels uncomfortable, vulnerable, annoyed at this situation that had arisen at least partly from his own creation. only a fool would put themselves into such an unwinnable position, and the thought of such is reflected on his face by a slight furrow in his brow; an imperceptible purse of his lips. ]
What makes you think I'm hiding anything from you? Or, that there's any more to it?
[ is the reply that he decides on, and despite it being rather blunt, alhaitham's tone isn't one of accusation but an actual genuine question. ]
Like I said, it was an experiment to remove any other significant outside factors or influences from the relationship. Dori's manipulation of you was what lead you here in the first place, so one could argue it has been the greatest influence on our circumstances.
You initially moved in because you had no other options, correct? So would it not be unreasonable to remove that barrier to see whether or not that sentiment was still the case before our situation got any more serious? More involved? What if you hadn't even realised yourself, that extenuating circumstances had birthed convenience?
[ and as he's least dancing around the point that he's not quite sure he's trying to make, alhaitham exhales in a quiet, moody huff, disengaging their hands and crossing his arms over his chest. subconsciously defensive body language, because as much as kaveh says it's necessary, alhaitham hates this; hates being exposed. ]
Were our positions reversed, would you not wonder the same thing?
[ As Alhaitham speaks, crosses his arms defensively across his chest, Kaveh feels his face fall— not out of the rejection inherent in the release of his hand, but in response to the other's words, to the truth spoken in the spaces between them that perhaps even the scribe doesn't realize he's allowed to the surface: He was afraid.
Alhaitham, the architect realizes, was scared that he was in too deep, that he'd allowed himself to feel more deeply than he should for someone whom he couldn't whole-heartedly believe would stay by his side—
And Kaveh, seeing the other's actions through the lens of his own insecurities, made those fears into a reality.
He wants to cry. Instead, he casts his gaze down to his lap, his fingers now coming together to twine and twist against one another as he tries to sort the words in his head.
A breath. Two. And then he looks up again, his eyes bright and shining, but his gaze steady in a way his voice isn't. ]
You ask that question like I don't wonder that exact thing almost every day, Alhaitham, [ is the confession that comes next, fingers locking tightly together. ] Like it isn't the reason I decided to move out. I decided— by myself, out of my own fear—
[ and it's the closest he'll come to likening the two emotions together, enough that the scribe can make the connection for himself without the vulnerability inherent in having it told to him ]
—I decided that your actions meant you didn't want me here anymore. Because it's too easy for me to ask myself that question: how someone like you puts up with someone like me. How I got so lucky in the first place. How long it will take for— for you to get tired of me, finally.
[ tired and suffering from the worst hangover he'd subjected himself in years alhaitham may be, but even that kind of handicap wasn't enough to let kaveh's insinuation slip past him.
fear, really?
he almost wants to give some sort of retort to prove that actually, no, he's nothing of the sort but the words instead die on his lips as the other keeps talking. it absolves him of the need to recognise something truly ridiculous yet inarguably correct at the same time, a realisation that makes something awful twist inside him because alhaitham prides himself on being immovable, impervious, unaffected. having already experienced so much loss had necessitated closing his heart off to any other circumstance in which he could suffer it, which wasn't a small part of why he wasn't sumeru's most social individual, why he rarely got close to people, why this was proving so difficult.
his headache pounds in the background, and alhaitham suddenly feels very tired. ]
We're not very good at this.
[ - is the astute observation he offers as a sigh escapes him, fingers briefly raising to pinch the bridge of his brow as if it'd relieved some of the pressure of the headache, when in reality, what was affecting him most was the gravity of the situation. all the ridiculous things that kaveh was saying in his own direction, things that were factually untrue and - it's a huge mess.
a mess of subjectivity, of misinterpretations, of feelings, and briefly, alhaitham wonders if he could even begin to untangle them from one another. ]
Do you honestly think I'd willingly spend my time in the company of anyone I disliked? That I'd bother enough to hide that kind of disdain? Honestly, have you ever seen me interact with anyone else?
[ he murmurs, straightening up again. his tone is still purely explanatory, as if these were the answers to the most obvious question in the world - and to him, it was. fixing kaveh with a square gaze, his brow kinks in a slight frown. ]
[ Perhaps the worst of it all is that Kaveh knows, logically, that all the things Alhaitham says are true. He wouldn't willingly spend time in the company of someone with whom he did not wish to spend time. He wouldn't bother to hide disdain held for another. He never has before, why would he start now?
But it's a logic answered on the other side of his brain by the memory that his own mother was okay with leaving him behind, by the knowledge that when it comes to the other man, he's often the exception rather than the rule— Alhaitham may be willing to eject anyone else from his life without a second thought, but Kaveh knows it wouldn't be that simple for him, even if the other man was ready to move on. After all, they're inextricably entwined, not so easily parted by something as little as will—
And so how is he able to answer a question such as that?
Kaveh looks up, meeting the fixed squareness of that gaze, and this time it's the elder who finds it hard to maintain the contact between their eyes. ]
Is it really as easy as that? [ His voice is soft, serious despite the sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ] This is part of who I am, Alhaitham. It will get easier in time but maybe it will never fully go away—
[ And that's why it's important for them to have this discussion, to learn, to figure out what they can do to make it easier for them in the future, when their insecurities and idiosyncracies try to play them off against one another. ]
Is there anything I could have said before this happened that would have reassured you? I told you I love you, but you still had reason to doubt.
[ There's no blame in his voice. This isn't Alhaitham's fault. Nor is it his. He understands that, logically, even though that dark part of his mind wants to crowd over itself in anger and guilt, hating him for confirming the fears that the other doesn't even want to admit to having. ]
[ is the quick, flat reply to kaveh's question - could he say more, do more - and that kind of offer is so inexplicably him to a fault that the scribe nips it in the bud straightaway. whatever they'd been building together so far was something that they'd constructed in tandem, but alhaitham isn't blind; he sees the small things that the other does that he'd never even think of, the way that he phrases things more eloquently and diplomatically than the scribe ever would.
the last thing that he wants is for kaveh to do more on top of the more he already does everywhere else. ]
It was nothing you did or didn't do, it was the circumstances we were given. [ a sigh, as he distantly considers revisiting dori to heist the money back. ] I suppose that's part of who I will always be too; I doubt there'll ever be a time where I wouldn't chase a theory if it pertained to something important to me.
[ the discomfort of the conversation is still present like a thick blanket draped over his body, and as a distraction response the taller man runs a hand through his unkempt hair in an attempt to smooth it back. in a measured tone edged with lethargy; ]
I don't know if anything I'm saying is helping, really. Where do things go from here? Do you move back in, and we act as if this was an idiotic misunderstanding? Do you stay wherever it is you're staying, and we start over?
[ after all, this was stretching beyond his knowledge of social constructs. it's not like he'd gone through relationships before, let alone semi-breakups, so he has no idea what an acceptable solution is. continuing with nonchalance; ]
As long as it results in this - [ he idly gestures between them: ] continuing, I love you, so I'm open to whatever solution you find most comfortable.
[ oh, and he doesn't even think about that as he says it, nor does he even notice. ]
[ Funnily enough, for the first time ever Kaveh isn't genuinely asking if there's more he could have done. In a way, the question is rhetorical— something to make Alhaitham realize that the feeling was something insidious, something that took them both in its grasp despite everything between them being otherwise perfect.
(That said, he still would have made an effort to do more had the other man told him he could, and so the scribe's quick rejection is probably a wise move on his part.)
But despite that small misunderstanding, the architect's message seems to have gotten across, and he finds his smile turning to something a little more fond.
The questions that Alhaitham poses are wise, sensible, and Kaveh has answers to all of them as well as queries of his own: If the other is happy with it, he wants to move back in. Chalking it up to a misunderstanding makes the most sense, but some vulnerabilities have been uncovered— on both their parts— that may mean they have to tread more carefully for a while. They'll need to learn to be better about communicating with each other.
And as for the scribe: does he want his money repaid to him? The guilt says doubtlessly yes, but the Kaveh who is learning, the Kaveh who is trying to be an adult man in a semi-functioning relationship, says it's a question that has to be asked. Does he want it repaid— and if not, should they start saving instead, putting money aside for that house Kaveh has designed for them, or for something similar, something they can dream together?
His lips are halfway parted in reply when Alhaitham continues talking, and drops— with the straightest, most stoic face he's worn in the whole time Kaveh has been in his orbit— a bomb so powerful the blonde nearly staggers off the bed in shock. His eyes wide, he stares, and the tears he's worked so hard on keeping back the last week (largely failing, but he tried) spring instantly to his eyes, brimming and overflowing before he can voice more than a single syllable in reaction. ]
Good tears— [ he gasps out with a wet, breathless laugh, lest Alhaitham misunderstand as he has before; he reaches up to brush the tears from his lashes, shaking his head. ] I love you too.
[ in his sluggish state, alhaitham hadn't expected simple words to break the dam of kaveh's tears and for a moment he simply stares at the other with a blank, bemused look as the architect laughs the reaction off. it's incredibly silly, but somehow oddly endearing at the same time in that way that the blonde had always perfected - and with a quiet huff, the scribe shakes his head. ]
You're ridiculous.
[ because he is, they are, and even though he hadn't consciously thought about the phrase itself, alhaitham supposes it had merely become a solidified fact over the week they'd been apart. his mind never had trouble dispensing objective truths, and this one was no different - kaveh's departure had proven to him something which he'd half-thought was impossible, that someone had managed to become such an integral part in his life that continuing on without them was somewhat of an empty existence.
it surprises him a little, perhaps, but the scribe would never dare argue with evidence.
seeing the blonde cry still makes something twist inside him though, even if they were 'good tears' (a concept alhaitham will never understand), and so in a subtle, functional gesture of comfort, a large hand comes to rest on top of kaveh's knee.
perhaps it wouldn't make him stop crying, but it would make the taller man feel a little less conscious of the fact he'd let his hands go earlier. ]
Also, that's not an answer to anything I asked. I can offer more options, but I imagine they'll start becoming either more irrelevant or more absurd.
[ Alhaitham's words, the hand on his knee, serve to bring him out of the emotional well he created for himself and back into reality, another wet laugh as he lowers his hand to clasp over the one at his knee, tangling their fingers together, expression fond as he meets the other's eyes once again. Really, with such sweetness on the other's lips— no matter how calmly and factually the words were spoken— Kaveh has to fight back the urge to tell the scribe to just shut up and kiss him, that they can work out the details later, once one has slept off his hangover and the other has relaxed enough that he's not crying fresh tears into existence each and every minute.
But he knows Alhaitham well enough to know that such a demand will leave him without a moment's peace until they speak about it, and so he sighs, another shake of his head as he wipes at his eyes once more, a light brush of the back of his hand gathering as many tears as he can.
(Fruitlessly, of course, because they're immediately replaced with more.) ]
If you'll have me, I want to stay here with you— [ he says, thumb absently tracing patterns into the other's skin ] —and I don't want to start over, but I don't think it's as simple as just saying it was a misunderstanding, either. We have to learn from this, and get better about communicating these things, even when they're hard. That goes for me as well as for you.
[ He should probably give Alhaitham a moment to digest that, allow discussion about that part first and foremost, but the words are on his lips and he doesn't want to re-gather the bravery to speak them, so he charges on: ]
About the money you paid to Dori. Do you want me to pay you back? Or do we put that money instead to other dreams?
"If I'll have you." [ he repeats, his voice simply tired incredulity as if this was the stupidest hypothetical he'd ever heard. ] This house always was half your home, even if it wasn't in title. You can move back in when you desire.
[ because it had become that, hadn't it? a home, rather than a chattel. not that alhaitham was a particularly sentimental person when it came to things, but there'd perhaps been more than one reason he'd kept the house all these years even though kaveh had signed himself out of it. it had been born from their collaborative work, and to that end, had become a reminder of them.
alhaitham will put that two and two together eventually, when his head didn't feel like caving in. ]
If it's not starting over, then what does that look like? I'm unfamiliar.
[ the scribe sighs, not at the prospect of work, but at the prospect of not knowing. he deals in facts and certainties (which is an irony considering the highly strung emotional capacity of the blonde sitting in front of him) - and while he's willing to learn, alhaitham's still raw. ]
As for Dori - forget it. I wouldn't have paid it off if doing so would've put me in financial jeopardy, so you don't have to worry about it.
[ a pause, as he arches an eyebrow underneath a mess of silver hair. ]
After all, that was essentially the point of the whole endeavour.
Then consider me moved back in. [ The response comes quiet, quick. ] I'll have to pick up a few things from Tighnari's place later, but—
[ Whoops. Tighnari. Kaveh told the other he'd "be back later"— last night. He should probably contact the forest ranger sooner rather than later to let him know he's alright.
In a little while, though. Right now he wants to relax like this, enjoy the comfort of the man sprawled out against his side. Idly, his fingers tighten around the hand twined with his, lifting it to his lips so he can dot soft kisses along the crests of Alhaitham's knuckles as he listens to the other feel the words out.
Of course, the answer is as difficult as the question. Kaveh's never been in a relationship quite like this one, nor one as serious as this. Even by himself, Alhaitham warrants a certain degree of care... The blonde sighs, brows furrowing as he thinks it over. ] It doesn't look all that much different from before— [ is his eventual answer, his smile soft. ] Just... It's just a promise. If something happens, and one of us feels... insecure, or has doubts, or doesn't understand... then we talk about it instead of testing. Or assuming.
[ The smile fades in place, a more serious expression on his face even as he unfolds the fingers in his hand, his lips finding the other man's palm instead, kisses pressed into the skin. ]
I don't want to screw this up again.
[ As for the debt... well, later he'll remember to feel bad about it, but right now there's an excitement practically waiting under the seriousness of the needed discussion, a readiness to show Alhaitham everything he's planned for them and ask for input. ]
I can keep the intention of a promise. [ the scribe murmurs, eyes drifting to where kaveh's lips met the skin of his hand. ] Making commitments I can't keep seems disingenuous, when it appears neither of us have been motivated by malice. Even when we talk, we've repeatedly proven that it can just as easily devolve into an argument because of perspective. Emotion.
[ things he's still coming to grips with in their nuance, really. and it's so hard to focus on the conversation when he's torn between feeling like shit warmed up or frustratingly charmed by how beautiful kaveh looks as his lips graze his skin, doing something to stir up the flicker of feeling deep down inside him - but alhaitham is doing his best to put what he considers ephemeral concepts into words, because kaveh's right.
this all needed to be addressed, perhaps even breaking the issues down to their core components so there was absolutely no room for misinterpretation since they both seemed to run a mile with it; because the scribe doesn't want a repeat of the confronting emptiness of the past week. it felt too familiar, that hollow echo of pain just distant enough to be reminiscent of something else.
then the architect says something that makes alhaitham purse his lips in displeasure, the ghost of a frown on his face. ]
Don't say that. [ it comes out more as a demand than he intends, but the taller man had never bothered mincing words. ] It wouldn't be in the spirit of a new start if you took all the blame, when the very definition of a relationship is a fine balance.
[ For a moment, Kaveh almost wants to protest, wants to push the idea of the promise so that Alhaitham will realize how serious and important it is. But, as frustrating as it might be for him, he understands where the other is coming from, understands that the scribe won't make a promise he doesn't know for sure he can keep. And so he doesn't complain— but he is silent for a short while, trying to decide the best way to respond to him as his lips continue their lazy pattern of kisses over the palm of his hand.
The sudden sharpness of the other's voice makes him stop though, look up in mild surprise, and Kaveh can't help but laugh, his expression immediately fond as he shakes his head. ]
Believe it or not, I wasn't blaming myself. [ He lowers Alhaitham's hand back to his leg so that he can twist to face the other, his lithe fingers rising to cup the sharp sides of his face instead. ] We made this mess together— Maybe I should have been clearer. [ Kaveh's forehead rests against Alhaitham's, ruby eyes meeting emerald, that slight smile quirking the corners of his lips. ]
I don't want us to go through this again. Keeping the intention of a promise is fine— you're right, misunderstandings will probably happen anyway. [ When it comes to the two of them, they always do. ] We'll talk, we'll figure it out, we'll do whatever we have to do to make it right. I love you, and I don't want us to screw this up again.
[ And then, because he wouldn't be Kaveh if he wasn't seeking some sort of approval from the other man, his lips quirk a little more, a question in his expression. ] Better?
[ the soft brush of golden hair and cool fingers against his face is a welcome comfort to a difficult conversation and a pounding headache, eyes slipping closed as he simply enjoys. the warmth and proximity he'd been bereft of for a week still felt like a relief, even though they'd already spent the night tangled together; even though they'd been spoiled for touch since their reconciliation.
with a quiet huff that's mostly disbelief at his own sentimentality, long arms wind around kaveh's waist and come to rest at his sides. the way they're seated makes it difficult to reach too far forward, so instead the scribe settles for stroking a thumb slowly, rhythmically against the skin just above the hem of his pants - a soothing gesture more than anything else, but at the same time, alhaitham can't quite help himself from touching.
the morning didn't need to be anything more than this, but he realises he's loathe to let the other go so easily again - a thought that brings his sluggish mind back to one of the catalysts of the night before.
a murmur, with obvious reluctance; ]
If that's the case, there were other things that came up last night we should probably discuss; significant things. [ turquoise eyes open again to fix on kaveh's, if only to demonstrate that he was serious. after all, the plans that the architect had drawn, mentions of a future, much less a family - all things that would probably warrant definition before misunderstanding. ] - but, not right now.
[ Alhaitham's actions are rewarded with a contented sigh; like the other man, Kaveh is simply enjoying this moment they're sharing, the feel of the other's skin under fingers he thought would never get to touch him again, the soft huffing sound on the other's lips as his arms wind around Kaveh's waist. And where that eagerness is still bubbling under the blonde's skin, he smiles broadly when those eyes open to meet his own once more, offering a gentle smile and a nod in response. ]
Later, [ he agrees. ] When your head isn't pounding. And when—
[ And then Kaveh groans, because the realization has just hit him that he's meant to head into the desert tomorrow, having already put his client off by the better part of a week with his supposed sickness. His hands drop from the other's cheeks, shoulders slumping, a typically too-distressed look on his face. ]
I'm meant to go to Aaru Village for a few days, starting tomorrow. [ He doesn't want to go. He wants to stay here and find normal again before he's forced to be apart from Alhaitham once more. ] I've got some plans to go over with a client for a project, and—
[ He sighs. ]
Do you want me to cancel? I'm sure he won't mind if I reschedule...
[ it's a genuine question, because as far as alhaitham's concerned the matter is sorted - it's black and white that kaveh has 'moved back in' as such, and the idea of finding a new normal is completely alien to him when it simply was. and, anyway: they'd lived together far too long already, relationship or no, that the scribe is aware that there were only negative consequences for the architect procrastinating.
longer nights, more stress, darker circles under ruby eyes.
pulling back slightly, the taller man gently drops a hand on the crown of that blonde hair - much like reassuring a puppy, he supposes - and shakes his head. ]
Go and do your project; your head will be much clearer with it out of the way.
[ a pause, and despite his tiredness, a wicked glint in his otherwise level eyes. ]
[ He would cancel, Kaveh wants to say, because sorted or not, they have been apart from one another for a whole week. He's missed him, and the thought of having to leave again so soon after coming together again is just awful. He's stopped in his thoughts though by that glint in Alhaitham's eyes, and in the next his own narrow, a huff on his lips as his hands shove at the other's chest. ]
Archons, you are such a jerk, [ he mutters, but the grumping doesn't reach his eyes, which instead are alight with affection as they meet Alhaitham's own. That wickedness soothes him, gives him the best feeling he's had since a week ago; despite the tiredness the other is feeling, the hangover he's suffering, Alhaitham is cheerful enough to tease him.
It doesn't take long for his smile to come to his mouth, reversing the irritated pout on his lips as his hands move back to their place on the sides of the other's face, holding him as he leans to close the gap between them, lips catching Alhaitham's in a soft kiss, answering the pained longing of the last several days. ]
I know I have to go. [ The confession is murmured with a sigh against the other's mouth. ] But I'll miss you while I'm there.
[ alhaitham retorts evenly, though he lets kaveh push him a little because this, this felt like slipping on a well-worn glove and enjoying the fit of it. the two of them had a peculiar dynamic, but it was inarguably, intrinsically theirs; and he'd gotten so used to it over the past year or so that existence felt unbalanced when it was missing.
the kiss is equally savoured, the taller man lingering perhaps just a second longer than would be appropriate for the context of it - but he's currently indisposed, and therefore feeling rather selfish. kaveh's skin always feels so pleasant against his own, a panacea for the tumult of the past week that does something to wash away the sour taste of solitude.
the house would be quiet again without the blonde around; but this time it'd be a comfortable silence, rather than a foreboding one. plus - at least it'd be a chance for alhaitham to catch up on the sleep he'd missed turning things over in his mind on empty nights the past week. ]
Your absence will be felt, too.
[ he says finally, punctuating the statement with a look so intense it bordered on smouldering - but who can really tell, with the weariness at the creases of his eyes, and the stoic expression. ]
- that said, you should probably pack. You always forget something, so taking your time might avoid that.
Hey! [ he exclaims, offended, as if he has any right to be when the other speaks the truth— more than once has Kaveh had to purchase additional clothing against the cold desert nights, or an extra toothbrush, or something else equally important somehow forgotten in the rush of his packing. This perfectly true fact doesn't stop him from pouting about Alhaitham trying to kick him out of bed, though. ] I'll do it today. Don't rush me right now— I'm enjoying this.
[ And he is. In fact, instead of getting up, Kaveh puts any remaining cups and plates on the side table before bodily pulling Alhaitham back down to the bed with him, arms and legs draped over the other in a silent declaration: right now, he's not going anywhere. Right now, he wants to get as much of this as he can.
He's going to miss Alhaitham this week, but at least it won't be the horrid, hollow pain of the week just past. And when he gets back, they can talk about their future, about plans for dreams so big a single piece of drafting paper can't contain them. ]
Sleep. You need it, to shake off your hangover.
[ For now, Kaveh closes his eyes, a smile on his lips. ]
[ the scribe lets himself get tugged back down towards the bed, putting up zero resistance as long limbs wind their way around him in a way that had grown both comforting and familiar. most mornings they awoke to a similar sort of arrangement as kaveh always seems to gravitate towards him in the night regardless of how they go to sleep - and even though it strongly reminded alhaitham of how a tree monkey would act, it was also extremely endearing.
shocked as he is that he's grown to welcome someone in his personal space, alhaitham will refuse to complain. for once. ]
Decent advice, considering the source.
[ he murmurs, settling back into the soft down of the mattress and snaking one muscled arm around the architect's slim waist. the edges of his words get lost in golden hair as his lips brush against the crown of kaveh's head, leaving the ghost of a kiss so faint you'd wonder if it was even really there - and then the scribe's eyes slip closed.
a few moments pass as alhaitham's breathing begins to even out, signaling that he's on the edge of sleep, but before he does, some quiet words sneak out; ]
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sempiternals2023-02-11 10:39 pm
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all things he'd never admit out loud and would brush off if ever asked, but the scribe's own body had betrayed him to speak for him.
that familiar warm feeling is why alhaitham is a little surprised to wake up to an empty bed - mm, the blonde's presence beside him at night had been something he'd gotten used to with a terrifying speed - but instead to the pleasant smell of freshly brewed coffee. with a quiet groan, he sits tenderly up in the bed as his sluggish mind starts ticking over again, the painful pounding behind his eyes all the reprimand he needed for thinking it was a good idea to drink so goddamn much last night. but, thankfully, he remembers everything up until - he assumes - he fell asleep on the couch or staggered in here.
sleep-glazed eyes glance at the coffee steaming away on the bedside table, one that couldn't have been made more than what, five, ten minutes ago? and there's a strange sense of deja vu spiked with irony that now he was on the receiving end of the hangover cure. it hadn't been more than two or three months since he'd been plying kaveh with a similar endlessly black brew as they'd stumbled over revelations and (sometimes poorly chosen) words together, and... well. the nostalgia, considering the door that had been re-opened last night, wasn't unpleasant.
the silver-haired man is just raising the cup to his lips and taking the world's longest sip as the object of said nostalgia re-enters the room, holding a coffee of his own. it's still a little odd to see him back in the house, even more so in alhaitham's bedroom considering the past week - but alcohol for the scribe does nothing for his confidence, only for his escape.
despite that, no words his mind can select seem good enough. evenly, his tired mind picks the most inoffensive opener he could think of; ]
Thanks for the coffee. [ but the habitual sass sneaks out anyway, because alhaitham is way too sore to resist. ] It's not terrible.
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until he recalls that he's not alone anymore.
Better than he's managed in a week, and hand in hand with the belief that it will only get better from here, but still restless— which is why (paired with the hangover, he's sure) Kaveh is awake in the end so much earlier than the other man, lying in the soft wash of morning light and listening to his breathing, thinking over how badly they nearly ruined things— again— over a misunderstanding. It's too much to bear, and in the end he gets out of bed early, not exactly wanting to leave but wanting to keep himself busy, and so by the time Alhaitham wakes up, Kaveh's things are back where they belong, the kitchen is cleaned, there's coffee on the table and the blonde is walking back into the other's bedroom with coffee of his own, and toast on a plate in his other hand, ready to work its magic on that hangover.
His eyes roll at the sass, and the rejoinder is quick to find his tongue, a joke that isn't funny, something about moving out, and Kaveh swallows its bitter taste as he shakes his head, moving to sit next to the other on the bed. ]
I moved my things back where they belong, [ he says instead, holding out the plate of toast. Where he belongs. He's not going anywhere. But still, he can't help but add a little snark of his own, even as his shoulder comes flush with the other man's: ] The house looked embarrassingly dull without them.
[ Worse than that, it looked wrong in a way Kaveh couldn't quite place. For all those months he'd made noise about moving out, finding his own space— when he finally did, even for a week, nothing about it was right.
He sips at his own coffee, gaze falling to the plate between them. ]
I missed you.
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[ the mattress dips as kaveh sits next to him on the bed, the graceful slant of his shoulder pressing against the scribe's own. one of the most frustrating things about the blonde was how perfectly together he always managed to look - unaffected and devastatingly beautiful even after the worst nights and most trying days. today, too, he looks simply radiant in the morning sumeru sunshine filtering through the window, long fingers angled around the round of his cup, while alhaitham is fully aware he looks like absolute shit.
fair enough too, considering to some degree, he still feels like shit, at least - physically. emotionally he's relieved, but even alhaitham isn't socially detached enough to think that what had transpired between them could be easily papered over or forgotten, much like their dramatic falling out after they'd written their cooperative thesis.
the taller man's eyes drop to the plate too, and even though he doesn't overly feel like eating he knows it's probably in his best interests to ingest something solid that wasn't alcohol or caffeine - so, with that even, unbothered expression of his, he takes a piece and bites into it.
it gives him a moment to think, turn over in his head how the atmosphere in the room feels like things had gone back to normal yet were completely different at the same time, only emphasised by kaveh's comment. after a brief silence, those intense teal irises fix back on the architect's face with a look far more focused than he felt. ]
This place feels strange without you in it. [ alhaitham offers, because he's still raw and unsettled by how much all of this had affected him, how quickly he'd sunk into ruin. of course he'd missed kaveh too. ] I hadn't realised just how many things you snuck in here.
[ and he finishes the slice of toast unhurriedly before following up: ]
You wanted to talk?
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But he does want to talk, and so he nods, putting the plate aside, reaching with newly-freed fingers to catch Alhaitham's hand in an echo of the night before, buttery remnants of toast on his fingers aside. Like always, there are hundreds of moving pieces that have come together in the very same pattern as they have before, forcing them apart before drawing them back together. And where Alhaitham recognizes the cyclical nature of it, accepts it as perhaps part of their story, Kaveh yearns to solve it, to find the parts that are wrong and fix them so they never have to go through this pain again.
The problem, perhaps, is that he has no idea where they're meant to start— apart, of course, from the very beginning. Which is...
Well. Perhaps the very beginning is a little too far out of his reach for now. But they can start from the beginning of this fight, at the very least. ]
Mm... You said last night that it was a test. Right? Paying off my debt with Dori. Will you tell me more about it?
[ Alhaitham was testing, he said, Kaveh's obligation to stay versus his want— but why? ]
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talking facts was easy - they were inarguable. rolled off the tongue like reciting a script, because there was nothing to question. this question? was hard. ]
I'm unsure what else there is to say about it.
[ alhaitham starts, his voice still somewhat hoarse from his escapades the previous night. fine araq was delicious, but it certainly burned on the way down. ]
It was something that had bothered you for some time, and seemed to intertwine with other issues you'd mentioned in the past. Mora isn't a particularly large concern of mine, so paying it off presented itself as an ingenious idea; one less thing that irritated you, and a litmus test for whether or not your old complaints were genuine.
[ either he doesn't think the 'why' is relevant to the explanation, or he's purposely avoiding it - either or, he seems satisfied with his answer. ]
Obviously, the results were not what I expected.
[ a pause, as his eyes flick between their entwined fingers and then back up to kaveh. the discomfort of the topic has obviously made the scribe physically shut off at least to some degree, the awkwardness of having to explain emotive, subjective matters causing him to stiffen slightly. ]
If we're asking searching questions, why did you immediately move out if you didn't feel obligated to stay here?
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Which means, Kaveh reasons, that there's more to it than the other man is letting on, that the "why" of the matter he's so carefully avoided is something deeper than he wants Kaveh to know— perhaps deeper than he knows himself. And he doesn't want to make the other man uncomfortable, especially not now, but if they want to fix this, to truly mend it and prevent similar things from happening yet again in their future, he needs to understand.
So, he tightens his hold on the other's hand, looks at him in silence for a moment, considering the things he's said, the things left unsaid, the things floating indecipherable in the space between them. ]
I promise I'll answer you— [ he replies, voice soft ] —but first I need you to trust me enough to tell me everything, Alhaitham. Even the parts you don't want to tell me.
[ The coffee is put aside with the plate, and Kaveh's free hand moves up to brush fingers along the younger's jaw, gently urging— without force, so that the other can resist if he wishes— Alhaitham to look at him instead of their tangled fingers. ]
If I don't understand why you were testing me, then I promise you that I'll fail every single test you design for me in the future, and I don't want to put us through this again.
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What makes you think I'm hiding anything from you? Or, that there's any more to it?
[ is the reply that he decides on, and despite it being rather blunt, alhaitham's tone isn't one of accusation but an actual genuine question. ]
Like I said, it was an experiment to remove any other significant outside factors or influences from the relationship. Dori's manipulation of you was what lead you here in the first place, so one could argue it has been the greatest influence on our circumstances.
You initially moved in because you had no other options, correct? So would it not be unreasonable to remove that barrier to see whether or not that sentiment was still the case before our situation got any more serious? More involved? What if you hadn't even realised yourself, that extenuating circumstances had birthed convenience?
[ and as he's least dancing around the point that he's not quite sure he's trying to make, alhaitham exhales in a quiet, moody huff, disengaging their hands and crossing his arms over his chest. subconsciously defensive body language, because as much as kaveh says it's necessary, alhaitham hates this; hates being exposed. ]
Were our positions reversed, would you not wonder the same thing?
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Alhaitham, the architect realizes, was scared that he was in too deep, that he'd allowed himself to feel more deeply than he should for someone whom he couldn't whole-heartedly believe would stay by his side—
And Kaveh, seeing the other's actions through the lens of his own insecurities, made those fears into a reality.
He wants to cry. Instead, he casts his gaze down to his lap, his fingers now coming together to twine and twist against one another as he tries to sort the words in his head.
A breath. Two. And then he looks up again, his eyes bright and shining, but his gaze steady in a way his voice isn't. ]
You ask that question like I don't wonder that exact thing almost every day, Alhaitham, [ is the confession that comes next, fingers locking tightly together. ] Like it isn't the reason I decided to move out. I decided— by myself, out of my own fear—
[ and it's the closest he'll come to likening the two emotions together, enough that the scribe can make the connection for himself without the vulnerability inherent in having it told to him ]
—I decided that your actions meant you didn't want me here anymore. Because it's too easy for me to ask myself that question: how someone like you puts up with someone like me. How I got so lucky in the first place. How long it will take for— for you to get tired of me, finally.
[ His smile trembles on his lips. ]
I guess that answers your first question, too.
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fear, really?
he almost wants to give some sort of retort to prove that actually, no, he's nothing of the sort but the words instead die on his lips as the other keeps talking. it absolves him of the need to recognise something truly ridiculous yet inarguably correct at the same time, a realisation that makes something awful twist inside him because alhaitham prides himself on being immovable, impervious, unaffected. having already experienced so much loss had necessitated closing his heart off to any other circumstance in which he could suffer it, which wasn't a small part of why he wasn't sumeru's most social individual, why he rarely got close to people, why this was proving so difficult.
his headache pounds in the background, and alhaitham suddenly feels very tired. ]
We're not very good at this.
[ - is the astute observation he offers as a sigh escapes him, fingers briefly raising to pinch the bridge of his brow as if it'd relieved some of the pressure of the headache, when in reality, what was affecting him most was the gravity of the situation. all the ridiculous things that kaveh was saying in his own direction, things that were factually untrue and - it's a huge mess.
a mess of subjectivity, of misinterpretations, of feelings, and briefly, alhaitham wonders if he could even begin to untangle them from one another. ]
Do you honestly think I'd willingly spend my time in the company of anyone I disliked? That I'd bother enough to hide that kind of disdain? Honestly, have you ever seen me interact with anyone else?
[ he murmurs, straightening up again. his tone is still purely explanatory, as if these were the answers to the most obvious question in the world - and to him, it was. fixing kaveh with a square gaze, his brow kinks in a slight frown. ]
What reassurance do you need?
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But it's a logic answered on the other side of his brain by the memory that his own mother was okay with leaving him behind, by the knowledge that when it comes to the other man, he's often the exception rather than the rule— Alhaitham may be willing to eject anyone else from his life without a second thought, but Kaveh knows it wouldn't be that simple for him, even if the other man was ready to move on. After all, they're inextricably entwined, not so easily parted by something as little as will—
And so how is he able to answer a question such as that?
Kaveh looks up, meeting the fixed squareness of that gaze, and this time it's the elder who finds it hard to maintain the contact between their eyes. ]
Is it really as easy as that? [ His voice is soft, serious despite the sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ] This is part of who I am, Alhaitham. It will get easier in time but maybe it will never fully go away—
[ And that's why it's important for them to have this discussion, to learn, to figure out what they can do to make it easier for them in the future, when their insecurities and idiosyncracies try to play them off against one another. ]
Is there anything I could have said before this happened that would have reassured you? I told you I love you, but you still had reason to doubt.
[ There's no blame in his voice. This isn't Alhaitham's fault. Nor is it his. He understands that, logically, even though that dark part of his mind wants to crowd over itself in anger and guilt, hating him for confirming the fears that the other doesn't even want to admit to having. ]
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[ is the quick, flat reply to kaveh's question - could he say more, do more - and that kind of offer is so inexplicably him to a fault that the scribe nips it in the bud straightaway. whatever they'd been building together so far was something that they'd constructed in tandem, but alhaitham isn't blind; he sees the small things that the other does that he'd never even think of, the way that he phrases things more eloquently and diplomatically than the scribe ever would.
the last thing that he wants is for kaveh to do more on top of the more he already does everywhere else. ]
It was nothing you did or didn't do, it was the circumstances we were given. [ a sigh, as he distantly considers revisiting dori to heist the money back. ] I suppose that's part of who I will always be too; I doubt there'll ever be a time where I wouldn't chase a theory if it pertained to something important to me.
[ the discomfort of the conversation is still present like a thick blanket draped over his body, and as a distraction response the taller man runs a hand through his unkempt hair in an attempt to smooth it back. in a measured tone edged with lethargy; ]
I don't know if anything I'm saying is helping, really. Where do things go from here? Do you move back in, and we act as if this was an idiotic misunderstanding? Do you stay wherever it is you're staying, and we start over?
[ after all, this was stretching beyond his knowledge of social constructs. it's not like he'd gone through relationships before, let alone semi-breakups, so he has no idea what an acceptable solution is. continuing with nonchalance; ]
As long as it results in this - [ he idly gestures between them: ] continuing, I love you, so I'm open to whatever solution you find most comfortable.
[ oh, and he doesn't even think about that as he says it, nor does he even notice. ]
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(That said, he still would have made an effort to do more had the other man told him he could, and so the scribe's quick rejection is probably a wise move on his part.)
But despite that small misunderstanding, the architect's message seems to have gotten across, and he finds his smile turning to something a little more fond.
The questions that Alhaitham poses are wise, sensible, and Kaveh has answers to all of them as well as queries of his own: If the other is happy with it, he wants to move back in. Chalking it up to a misunderstanding makes the most sense, but some vulnerabilities have been uncovered— on both their parts— that may mean they have to tread more carefully for a while. They'll need to learn to be better about communicating with each other.
And as for the scribe: does he want his money repaid to him? The guilt says doubtlessly yes, but the Kaveh who is learning, the Kaveh who is trying to be an adult man in a semi-functioning relationship, says it's a question that has to be asked. Does he want it repaid— and if not, should they start saving instead, putting money aside for that house Kaveh has designed for them, or for something similar, something they can dream together?
His lips are halfway parted in reply when Alhaitham continues talking, and drops— with the straightest, most stoic face he's worn in the whole time Kaveh has been in his orbit— a bomb so powerful the blonde nearly staggers off the bed in shock. His eyes wide, he stares, and the tears he's worked so hard on keeping back the last week (largely failing, but he tried) spring instantly to his eyes, brimming and overflowing before he can voice more than a single syllable in reaction. ]
Good tears— [ he gasps out with a wet, breathless laugh, lest Alhaitham misunderstand as he has before; he reaches up to brush the tears from his lashes, shaking his head. ] I love you too.
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You're ridiculous.
[ because he is, they are, and even though he hadn't consciously thought about the phrase itself, alhaitham supposes it had merely become a solidified fact over the week they'd been apart. his mind never had trouble dispensing objective truths, and this one was no different - kaveh's departure had proven to him something which he'd half-thought was impossible, that someone had managed to become such an integral part in his life that continuing on without them was somewhat of an empty existence.
it surprises him a little, perhaps, but the scribe would never dare argue with evidence.
seeing the blonde cry still makes something twist inside him though, even if they were 'good tears' (a concept alhaitham will never understand), and so in a subtle, functional gesture of comfort, a large hand comes to rest on top of kaveh's knee.
perhaps it wouldn't make him stop crying, but it would make the taller man feel a little less conscious of the fact he'd let his hands go earlier. ]
Also, that's not an answer to anything I asked. I can offer more options, but I imagine they'll start becoming either more irrelevant or more absurd.
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But he knows Alhaitham well enough to know that such a demand will leave him without a moment's peace until they speak about it, and so he sighs, another shake of his head as he wipes at his eyes once more, a light brush of the back of his hand gathering as many tears as he can.
(Fruitlessly, of course, because they're immediately replaced with more.) ]
If you'll have me, I want to stay here with you— [ he says, thumb absently tracing patterns into the other's skin ] —and I don't want to start over, but I don't think it's as simple as just saying it was a misunderstanding, either. We have to learn from this, and get better about communicating these things, even when they're hard. That goes for me as well as for you.
[ He should probably give Alhaitham a moment to digest that, allow discussion about that part first and foremost, but the words are on his lips and he doesn't want to re-gather the bravery to speak them, so he charges on: ]
About the money you paid to Dori. Do you want me to pay you back? Or do we put that money instead to other dreams?
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[ because it had become that, hadn't it? a home, rather than a chattel. not that alhaitham was a particularly sentimental person when it came to things, but there'd perhaps been more than one reason he'd kept the house all these years even though kaveh had signed himself out of it. it had been born from their collaborative work, and to that end, had become a reminder of them.
alhaitham will put that two and two together eventually, when his head didn't feel like caving in. ]
If it's not starting over, then what does that look like? I'm unfamiliar.
[ the scribe sighs, not at the prospect of work, but at the prospect of not knowing. he deals in facts and certainties (which is an irony considering the highly strung emotional capacity of the blonde sitting in front of him) - and while he's willing to learn, alhaitham's still raw. ]
As for Dori - forget it. I wouldn't have paid it off if doing so would've put me in financial jeopardy, so you don't have to worry about it.
[ a pause, as he arches an eyebrow underneath a mess of silver hair. ]
After all, that was essentially the point of the whole endeavour.
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[ Whoops. Tighnari. Kaveh told the other he'd "be back later"— last night. He should probably contact the forest ranger sooner rather than later to let him know he's alright.
In a little while, though. Right now he wants to relax like this, enjoy the comfort of the man sprawled out against his side. Idly, his fingers tighten around the hand twined with his, lifting it to his lips so he can dot soft kisses along the crests of Alhaitham's knuckles as he listens to the other feel the words out.
Of course, the answer is as difficult as the question. Kaveh's never been in a relationship quite like this one, nor one as serious as this. Even by himself, Alhaitham warrants a certain degree of care... The blonde sighs, brows furrowing as he thinks it over. ] It doesn't look all that much different from before— [ is his eventual answer, his smile soft. ] Just... It's just a promise. If something happens, and one of us feels... insecure, or has doubts, or doesn't understand... then we talk about it instead of testing. Or assuming.
[ The smile fades in place, a more serious expression on his face even as he unfolds the fingers in his hand, his lips finding the other man's palm instead, kisses pressed into the skin. ]
I don't want to screw this up again.
[ As for the debt... well, later he'll remember to feel bad about it, but right now there's an excitement practically waiting under the seriousness of the needed discussion, a readiness to show Alhaitham everything he's planned for them and ask for input. ]
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[ things he's still coming to grips with in their nuance, really. and it's so hard to focus on the conversation when he's torn between feeling like shit warmed up or frustratingly charmed by how beautiful kaveh looks as his lips graze his skin, doing something to stir up the flicker of feeling deep down inside him - but alhaitham is doing his best to put what he considers ephemeral concepts into words, because kaveh's right.
this all needed to be addressed, perhaps even breaking the issues down to their core components so there was absolutely no room for misinterpretation since they both seemed to run a mile with it; because the scribe doesn't want a repeat of the confronting emptiness of the past week. it felt too familiar, that hollow echo of pain just distant enough to be reminiscent of something else.
then the architect says something that makes alhaitham purse his lips in displeasure, the ghost of a frown on his face. ]
Don't say that. [ it comes out more as a demand than he intends, but the taller man had never bothered mincing words. ] It wouldn't be in the spirit of a new start if you took all the blame, when the very definition of a relationship is a fine balance.
[ he adds as an afterthought; ] - apparently.
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The sudden sharpness of the other's voice makes him stop though, look up in mild surprise, and Kaveh can't help but laugh, his expression immediately fond as he shakes his head. ]
Believe it or not, I wasn't blaming myself. [ He lowers Alhaitham's hand back to his leg so that he can twist to face the other, his lithe fingers rising to cup the sharp sides of his face instead. ] We made this mess together— Maybe I should have been clearer. [ Kaveh's forehead rests against Alhaitham's, ruby eyes meeting emerald, that slight smile quirking the corners of his lips. ]
I don't want us to go through this again. Keeping the intention of a promise is fine— you're right, misunderstandings will probably happen anyway. [ When it comes to the two of them, they always do. ] We'll talk, we'll figure it out, we'll do whatever we have to do to make it right. I love you, and I don't want us to screw this up again.
[ And then, because he wouldn't be Kaveh if he wasn't seeking some sort of approval from the other man, his lips quirk a little more, a question in his expression. ] Better?
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[ the soft brush of golden hair and cool fingers against his face is a welcome comfort to a difficult conversation and a pounding headache, eyes slipping closed as he simply enjoys. the warmth and proximity he'd been bereft of for a week still felt like a relief, even though they'd already spent the night tangled together; even though they'd been spoiled for touch since their reconciliation.
with a quiet huff that's mostly disbelief at his own sentimentality, long arms wind around kaveh's waist and come to rest at his sides. the way they're seated makes it difficult to reach too far forward, so instead the scribe settles for stroking a thumb slowly, rhythmically against the skin just above the hem of his pants - a soothing gesture more than anything else, but at the same time, alhaitham can't quite help himself from touching.
the morning didn't need to be anything more than this, but he realises he's loathe to let the other go so easily again - a thought that brings his sluggish mind back to one of the catalysts of the night before.
a murmur, with obvious reluctance; ]
If that's the case, there were other things that came up last night we should probably discuss; significant things. [ turquoise eyes open again to fix on kaveh's, if only to demonstrate that he was serious. after all, the plans that the architect had drawn, mentions of a future, much less a family - all things that would probably warrant definition before misunderstanding. ] - but, not right now.
Later.
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Later, [ he agrees. ] When your head isn't pounding. And when—
[ And then Kaveh groans, because the realization has just hit him that he's meant to head into the desert tomorrow, having already put his client off by the better part of a week with his supposed sickness. His hands drop from the other's cheeks, shoulders slumping, a typically too-distressed look on his face. ]
I'm meant to go to Aaru Village for a few days, starting tomorrow. [ He doesn't want to go. He wants to stay here and find normal again before he's forced to be apart from Alhaitham once more. ] I've got some plans to go over with a client for a project, and—
[ He sighs. ]
Do you want me to cancel? I'm sure he won't mind if I reschedule...
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[ it's a genuine question, because as far as alhaitham's concerned the matter is sorted - it's black and white that kaveh has 'moved back in' as such, and the idea of finding a new normal is completely alien to him when it simply was. and, anyway: they'd lived together far too long already, relationship or no, that the scribe is aware that there were only negative consequences for the architect procrastinating.
longer nights, more stress, darker circles under ruby eyes.
pulling back slightly, the taller man gently drops a hand on the crown of that blonde hair - much like reassuring a puppy, he supposes - and shakes his head. ]
Go and do your project; your head will be much clearer with it out of the way.
[ a pause, and despite his tiredness, a wicked glint in his otherwise level eyes. ]
- and the house will be much quieter.
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Archons, you are such a jerk, [ he mutters, but the grumping doesn't reach his eyes, which instead are alight with affection as they meet Alhaitham's own. That wickedness soothes him, gives him the best feeling he's had since a week ago; despite the tiredness the other is feeling, the hangover he's suffering, Alhaitham is cheerful enough to tease him.
It doesn't take long for his smile to come to his mouth, reversing the irritated pout on his lips as his hands move back to their place on the sides of the other's face, holding him as he leans to close the gap between them, lips catching Alhaitham's in a soft kiss, answering the pained longing of the last several days. ]
I know I have to go. [ The confession is murmured with a sigh against the other's mouth. ] But I'll miss you while I'm there.
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[ alhaitham retorts evenly, though he lets kaveh push him a little because this, this felt like slipping on a well-worn glove and enjoying the fit of it. the two of them had a peculiar dynamic, but it was inarguably, intrinsically theirs; and he'd gotten so used to it over the past year or so that existence felt unbalanced when it was missing.
the kiss is equally savoured, the taller man lingering perhaps just a second longer than would be appropriate for the context of it - but he's currently indisposed, and therefore feeling rather selfish. kaveh's skin always feels so pleasant against his own, a panacea for the tumult of the past week that does something to wash away the sour taste of solitude.
the house would be quiet again without the blonde around; but this time it'd be a comfortable silence, rather than a foreboding one. plus - at least it'd be a chance for alhaitham to catch up on the sleep he'd missed turning things over in his mind on empty nights the past week. ]
Your absence will be felt, too.
[ he says finally, punctuating the statement with a look so intense it bordered on smouldering - but who can really tell, with the weariness at the creases of his eyes, and the stoic expression. ]
- that said, you should probably pack. You always forget something, so taking your time might avoid that.
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[ And he is. In fact, instead of getting up, Kaveh puts any remaining cups and plates on the side table before bodily pulling Alhaitham back down to the bed with him, arms and legs draped over the other in a silent declaration: right now, he's not going anywhere. Right now, he wants to get as much of this as he can.
He's going to miss Alhaitham this week, but at least it won't be the horrid, hollow pain of the week just past. And when he gets back, they can talk about their future, about plans for dreams so big a single piece of drafting paper can't contain them. ]
Sleep. You need it, to shake off your hangover.
[ For now, Kaveh closes his eyes, a smile on his lips. ]
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shocked as he is that he's grown to welcome someone in his personal space, alhaitham will refuse to complain. for once. ]
Decent advice, considering the source.
[ he murmurs, settling back into the soft down of the mattress and snaking one muscled arm around the architect's slim waist. the edges of his words get lost in golden hair as his lips brush against the crown of kaveh's head, leaving the ghost of a kiss so faint you'd wonder if it was even really there - and then the scribe's eyes slip closed.
a few moments pass as alhaitham's breathing begins to even out, signaling that he's on the edge of sleep, but before he does, some quiet words sneak out; ]
If you snore, I'm waking you up.