[ Yes, he's been told this before—not that Alhaitham gets the chance to actually say it because Kaveh immediate continues without pause. If he recalls correctly, he was nineteen at the time and he'd responded by pointing out that the earliest known record of a cake matching the description of a kayk-e eshgh was from six hundred years ago, making the story extremely implausible. Kaveh, of course, had rolled his eyes at him and told him not to ruin a perfectly good story just because it's not one hundred percent historically accurate.
Once he finishes cutting a piece of cake for himself, Alhaitham brings his cup of coffee to his lips for his lips, feeling the heat coming through the ceramic. As expected, it's too sweet for his tastes, but still within the parameters of acceptable coffee. Black is definitely superior, though. ]
I'd imagine the forbidden knowledge outbreak laying waste to the land was a more pressing concern than pursuing romantic entanglements.
[ Setting the cup down on its saucer, he then pinches a piece of his cake between his fingers and lifts it to his mouth, chewing slowly as he mulls over the story. Maybe he was scared. They were friends after all. He'd be lying if he said he couldn't relate, having said nothing about his true feelings in the many years he's had them; always telling himself that it's better to maintain the status quo than to ruin what they have by getting rejected. And now that Kaveh is back in his life, the status quo is even more important; he can't risk him leaving him alone again. ]
Being indirect isn't a very effective communication method, besides. How is a cake supposed to convey one's true feelings?
[ He hates the way his face falls, the way he feels rejected even though Alhaitham's comment is entirely fair: on its own, a cake does not communicate feeling. Like any gift, one needs to understand not only the occasion, but also the motivation of the person giving it, along with their relationship to the recipient. And sometimes, even that isn't enough. Take this very situation now, with two people who were friends— and now are not, but still somehow seem to be closer than either them would claim to be— with one having purchased a cake to eat with the other, presumably to celebrate, having chosen a cake laced with history and nostalgia...
And Kaveh let himself buy into it for a moment, didn't he? He let himself melt, asked himself why Alhaitham would go to this effort, let himself start to hope—
But if the scribe's earlier birthday wish distracted him from those thoughts, the latest comment tears them to shreds in front of him. Why would this cake have any meaning when the man himself says that cakes aren't meant to do that?
Ugh.
...He doesn't want Alhaitham to see that he's disappointed. It would be too telling, wouldn't it?
Kaveh takes a bite of the cake; despite the bitter ache in his chest, its sweetness fills him with a nostalgia that brings a gentle smile to his lips, and the laugh he offers is genuine enough as a result as he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. ]
Just because you don't have a romantic bone in your body, Alhaitham— Don't you know that events like those draw people together? Even during Sumeru's recent emergency, people were still coming together and falling in love.
[ Despite his best attempts, his words falter and quaver right at the end, and Kaveh's eyes drop back to the cake in his lap as he catches his breath. Fuck. What's wrong with him today? ]
Ha. I'm sure you're right though. If cakes are a declaration of love, then what was I saying to Tighnari last month?
Most of Sumeru wasn't even aware there was an emergency to begin with, so that point lacks merit.
[ He says, deadpan as ever, attention fixed on that slight falter at the end and the way Kaveh's gaze suddenly drops to his lap. Alhaitham finds himself wishing he had the ability to simply read the other man's thoughts; it'd certainly make it a lot easier to understand what's going on with him today—there has to be something else that's factoring into his ongoing crisis that hasn't been made evident yet, but surmising what it is just from watching his body language is getting more frustrating by the second.
Then Kaveh talks about cakes and Tighnari in the same sentence and Alhaitham falls into an uncharacteristic silence, the kind that stretches on long enough for it to be uncomfortable and makes the very air around them feel still and oppressive; almost like the pressure drop right before the coming storm. The gears in his head start to move, as if something is verge of slotting into place as he turns every word in their conversation up until now over in his head, analyzing them with this new information in mind.
Tighnari's birthday is in December so it definitely wasn't intended to congratulate him... and Kaveh had just launched into the historically inaccurate story behind the love cake entirely unprompted, for some reason, while completely sober. The romantic aspect of it means something to him; it's therefore not unreasonable to assume that he would give someone a cake with the intention of expressing certain sentiment toward the recipient.
Also... didn't Tighnari and Cyno make their relationship official recently? ]
...So that's what this is about, then? You're upset because you were too late in confessing your feelings for Tighnari. [ It doesn't show on his face, but something in his stomach churns at the thought, a tendril of jealousy rising in his chest. ]
[ If he's honest, Kaveh has no idea what he's expecting Alhaitham to say or do in response to his words. He feels like he's left himself too open, made his feelings too obvious; the heaviness of the other man's silence doesn't help, either, and it's with a choked sigh that he picks at the cake, apparently unsure if he's meant to eat it or tear it to shreds in his anxiety. In the end, as the silence stretches on, uncomfortable and oppressive, he settles for putting a small piece of it between his lips as if somehow it will prevent him from wedging his foot further between them instead. His eyes sting with warning, and he chews the mouthful, trying for slow, trying for steady—
And then Alhaitham finally speaks, and Kaveh nearly chokes.
Somehow, the scribe has pieced together two and two to come up with seven, a fact as embarrassing as it is a relief. And it's tempting, so tempting, to let him believe it, if only to stop this line of questioning— but Kaveh can't lie about this, can't will himself between Tighnari and Cyno even to save his own skin. So he shakes his head, a gathering thickness in his throat; if nothing else, the confusion on his face should show Alhaitham that he's genuine. ]
What? I don't have feelings for Tighnari. [ It would be wisest, perhaps, to end the statement there, but ever the over-achiever, Kaveh continues: ] Anyway, it's not just about love. There are other things too, it's just—
[ His words melt into an oddly-strangled noise as he realizes what he's said. And then, for the second time in mere minutes: ]
[ The confusion glinting across the red of Kaveh's eyes tells Alhaitham that he isn't lying about his lack of feelings for Tighnari. Is this line of reasoning predicated upon the wrong premise, then, and romantic feelings don't factor into the blond's ongoing crisis at all? But then Kaveh keeps talking like he's had too much wine despite being (to his knowledge) entirely sober, giving him more to analyze and dissect like an Amurtan student would a frog on a biology lab table. ]
No, do continue. What were you about to say?
[ The skin between his brows crease in thought as looks Kaveh in the eye, gaze akin to the claws of an eagle as it sinks into the soft body of a rabbit; he's not going to let him get away with a "never mind". ]
[ He doesn't want to continue. It's bad enough that he's slipped up, confirmed (to his knowledge at least) that love plays into it in some way— but he recognizes the look on Alhaitham's face all too well, the predatory glint in his eyes that only ever shows up when he knows he's got someone dead to rights, a look that always comes along with a tightening of the noose around the neck of the person in his sights. Kaveh can run, but Alhaitham will catch him. He can hide, but he'll be found. Refusing to answer, he knows, is only delaying the inevitable.
But he doesn't have to tell the whole of the truth, does he.
He takes a breath, breaks off the barest morsel of the cake (and he hates how it tastes like sawdust in a mouth filled with the sickness of anxiety). ]
I had plans, that's all. I wanted to be a real success. By the time my parents were my age, they had careers and a house. They were married. They were living well, Alhaitham, they weren't broke and hiding in someone else's spare room while they tried to make ends meet. They weren't going from dead-end relationship to dead-end relationship while waiting for the right person to even notice they existed.
[ Too much. Wasn't that too much? Surely the only person in his life who barely notices he exists is Alhaitham
(even if that's decidedly untrue, if he looks at it from an unbiased, unbroken perspective: it's his birthday, and he's sitting under a tree on Gandha Hill with a cake the other went out of his way to buy, after canceling an appointment set by others on the strength of a tantrum)
and surely that means that he's basically confessed his feelings to the other man through a statement that may as well have said a name— He barely notices it through the gathering of tears clouding his vision, bleeding slow drops of saltwater into the cake in his lap.
He swipes impatiently at his own eyes, sniffling against the emotion. ]
Until I fucked it up for them, they had a real life, something amazing, something to be proud of. I... I haven't even had enough of anything worth fucking up. And now I'm thirty, and I just— I feel like I've wasted too much time, Alhaitham, that's all.
[ A wet, miserable laugh. He bets the other regrets his line of questioning now. ]
[ Again, he listens in silence without interrupting at any point to let Kaveh get it all out, his piercing gaze never once leaving the other man's face. His sights are trained on him and he begins to dissect his words, demeanour, and tone as if it's some scrap of unpondered lore or an ancient script inscribed upon stone pillars of old, waiting to be deciphered.
Most of it isn't new information. He's well aware of the guilt Kaveh carries like a millstone around his neck, his perceived responsibility for his father dying out in the desert even though the blame should be placed upon Sachin. This is where most other people would perhaps try to assuage it by saying it wasn't your fault, you were just a child. But Alhaitham isn't most other people and he leaves the topic of Kaveh's guilt be. That is something Kaveh ought to discuss with a therapist because it's way above his pay grade.
The metaphorical scalpel continues to make its incision. As he thought; in hitting this milestone that's a multiple of ten, he's become painfully aware of the things he failed to accomplish in his twenties. His earlier conclusion was only slightly off in assuming he was comparing his accomplishments (or lack thereof) to those of his peers rather than his parents's.
He lifts his hand as though he's about to reach out and wipe Kaveh's tears away, but aborts the motion and lets it drop back down to his lap. "—waiting for the right person to even notice they existed."
This is new information. And as previously established, it cannot be Tighnari. Not that he would even fit the description of someone who'd fail to notice that he exists. But who could it be? He cannot think of a single person in Kaveh's social circle who would fit. And it can't be him, given that he went out of his way to buy him the cake he's now crying into. From a logical point of view, he doesn't fit at all. But this is Kaveh, driven by emotion and not always moderated by reason. From his point of view, Alhaitham is a cold and unfeeling asshole. Of course he would think he never noticed him.
Something indescribable tightens in his chest as the thought settles into his mind, resting heavily against his ribcage. Alhaitham's hands ball into fists against his legs. He can remain silent and maintain the status quo as he's already done for over a decade, or... speak, not knowing for certain if conclusion is even the right one. ]
Perhaps the right person was waiting for signs of reciprocal interest. [ A quiet exhale. He still doesn't avert his gaze, as tempting it is to look at Sumeru City instead as the words leave his mouth. ] I assumed you weren't interested in me.
[ The words are barely out of Alhaitham's mouth before Kaveh whirls to face him, tears on his cheeks and yet more burning unshed in his eyes, and there's something almost wild to the upturn of his lips, the bitter laugh on his tongue as he shakes his head. ]
Of course you'd think that—! Do you have any idea how many people I've seen over the years trying to get your attention, all to be responded to with the cluelessness of a hydro fungus in a rainstorm? Why would I imagine it's any different for me, even when we— we—
[ The stream of words stops as abruptly as it started, Kaveh's voice trailing into nothingness as wide, wet crimson eyes blink once, twice, three times, the whole of Alhaitham's statement finally hitting home, leaving him to sit in stupefied silence. Alhaitham assumed that Kaveh wasn't interested in him, but— but he was waiting— hoping? This whole time, has the scribe had the same hesitation as Kaveh?
The hope, silenced by the rejection of the cake's meaning, swells and beats in his chest, fills his stomach with crystalflies, and Kaveh's lips part around words that won't quite come, questions and statements that won't quite form from the addled recesses of his mind.
...Besides, through it all, isn't there only one thing that matters? ]
Then... let me clear up any doubts you might have. I am interested, Alhaitham. I'm— [ A breath. His mouth feels dry, the words still heavy on his tongue despite finally knowing they're safe to say. ] I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for years.
[ Oh. Oh. That indescribable feeling tightens further still as Kaveh speaks the words he's longed to hear since he was just a boy; it's followed by a sense of relief filling his heart as it becomes clear that the feelings he kept quiet about for so long were mutual after all. Perhaps in time he will feel the regret of not saying anything sooner but right now he can only feel joy. Something visibly softens in the way he looks at Kaveh and without thinking he brings his hand to the other's face and gently wipes at a tear with his thumb. ]
...Do you remember our first academic debate, Kaveh? That's the precise moment I fell in love.
[ It was around five months after their first encounter in the library; he was fourteen at the time, right on the cusp of entering puberty, and he wasn't used to debating with people who could keep up with him. But then Kaveh had entered his life and proved his mettle by keeping pace with him for well over two hours, red eyes alight with unmatched brilliance and passion. It had knocked the metaphorical breath out of Alhaitham and the debate could've easily lasted even longer than it did had they not needed to eat.
Somewhat begrudgingly, he ceded victory to Kaveh and concluded that his own inexperience with debates in a proper academic setting was the reason he had lost, vowing to work on articulating his arguments with better precision and gravitas and to better avoid the fallacies that weaken his position. ]
You're the only person I've ever wanted to be with.
[ Even with everything Alhaitham has said, there's still an odd terror in the core of him, something that twists and tries to eat at him as the words leave his lips, as he's left sitting in silence and waiting for a response, his fingers curling into the soft material of his leggings. Old habits, perhaps, those that sound like the fearful silence stretching impossibly wide between them, like the arguments instigated just to have something to say.
And under the shroud of the fear, it feels like forever before the other actually responds, and Kaveh's hand lifts to lay across that thumbing at his tear, a smile finding his lips as he nods, as he laughs— and then as his brows lift in surprise. Alhaitham... in love with him since they were just kids? He thought he had been waiting for a long time, but this...
He remembers that day, too: the near excitement gleaming in Alhaitham's emerald eyes as he realized he'd met his match, the strength and reasoning behind each argument. Then, once both of their stomachs were audibly growling their hunger, the frustration behind his words as he ceded victory to Kaveh for the first and last time. The senior of the two boys had been curious about his junior from the start, had seen his brilliance, but on that day Kaveh recognized just how brilliant Alhaitham was.
As to whether that's when he fell in love, he doesn't know. Kaveh's love awakened more slowly, invisible to him until it had swallowed him whole.
And so there's a lot to discuss, probably, answers and explanations of his own to give... but very suddenly all he can think about is the pink of the other man's lips, how sweet they must taste with the dusting of fragmented glaze across them, how they might part against his own, stealing a taste Kaveh has for so long dreamed of offering.
[ I just confessed my feelings and you're asking for permission to do what I've wanted to do for over a decade?
That's the reply in Alhaitham's mind, but he doesn't verbalize it—in fact, he says nothing at all and decides to give his answer by scooting closer and reaching up to capture the sides of Kaveh's face with both hands; he then proceeds to gently angle his head slightly to the side so their noses won't collide as he leans closer and closer until their lips meet. His eyes slide closed as he makes a soft noise against the other's mouth, relishing in the feeling of those soft lips against his own and focusing his senses on nothing else but that sensation he's drowning himself in.
It's stiff and a little awkward, but that's Alhaitham's inexperience shining through rather than a sign that he isn't enjoying every second; it is, after all, his very first kiss and although he's read about kissing in many of the thousands of books he's read in his life it doesn't translate into real life experience. Kaveh tastes faintly of rosewater and cardamom and in that moment it feels like they were made to slot perfectly together, like two intertwined roots of the very tree they're sitting under. ]
[ The first thing on Kaveh's mind is bliss. The feel of Alhaitham's mouth on his— something he hasn't even allowed himself to dream about— the sweet taste of sugared glaze and almonds on his lips, the soft sound that slips unbidden from the other's tongue, the grounding sensation of those hands clasping his face on both sides. His own hands fall to rest on the other's thighs, anchoring them together as he cants his head into the kiss, answering that sweet sound with one of his own.
It's overwhelming enough that it takes him a moment for him to recognize it for what it is, to understand that the angle of Alhaitham's lips is ever so slightly awkward, that there's something just that little bit stiff that speaks to something not quite being right
—and Kaveh is a smart man, despite how he may sometimes act, and he remembers what his own first kiss felt like, all awkward placements and nervous energy—
He pulls away, crimson eyes wide and soft with emotions he can't quite place just yet. ]
That... Alhaitham, you've never kissed anyone before? [ And then, with devastating clarity: ] Were you— were you waiting for me?
[ It feels like their lips part far too soon, but all good things mut come to an end eventually—not to mention that he needs oxygen as he'd held his breath without thinking as he sunk into that sweet bliss of his first ever kiss, drawing deep breaths of air into his lungs. His hands are still cradling the sides of the blond's head, the pad of his thumb delicately stroking over his cheek before tucking a lock of golden hair away from his face.
At the question, he just gives the other a long look. ]
Didn't I just say that you're the only person I've ever wanted to be with? Try paying attention, Kaveh.
[ He never saw the point in intimate acts like kissing if it wasn't with Kaveh, didn't feel like he was missing out. It just seemed like a hassle he didn't want to bother with if he couldn't do those things with the one person that mattered the most. All these years, it's only been him. So yes, he has in fact been waiting. ]
[ How is it possible for this man to go from kissing him in one moment to irritating the Abyss out of him in the next? Kaveh stares for a second or two in silence, then shakes his head with a huff of breath, the emotion quashed all too quickly by irritation. ]
If you've got the ability to be an ass, then I clearly haven't kissed you properly enough.
[ There's a lot of things he should say. That Alhaitham is clearly more sentimental than he lets on. That he didn't need to wait. That he should have said something sooner rather than later. He's a hypocrite, he knows. And he should tell him, Kaveh thinks again, when he realized his own feelings.
But they've got time for that. And right now, today, they've got a lot of time to make up.
So he closes the space between them once more instead, and this time his fingers curl fists into the tight material of Alhaitham's clothing, pulling him close, his tongue skating over the scribe's lower lip. ]
You need practice, [ he mumbles by way of explanation, a soft laugh whispering between their mouths. ]
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sempiternals2023-07-10 11:35 am
no subject
Once he finishes cutting a piece of cake for himself, Alhaitham brings his cup of coffee to his lips for his lips, feeling the heat coming through the ceramic. As expected, it's too sweet for his tastes, but still within the parameters of acceptable coffee. Black is definitely superior, though. ]
I'd imagine the forbidden knowledge outbreak laying waste to the land was a more pressing concern than pursuing romantic entanglements.
[ Setting the cup down on its saucer, he then pinches a piece of his cake between his fingers and lifts it to his mouth, chewing slowly as he mulls over the story. Maybe he was scared. They were friends after all. He'd be lying if he said he couldn't relate, having said nothing about his true feelings in the many years he's had them; always telling himself that it's better to maintain the status quo than to ruin what they have by getting rejected. And now that Kaveh is back in his life, the status quo is even more important; he can't risk him leaving him alone again. ]
Being indirect isn't a very effective communication method, besides. How is a cake supposed to convey one's true feelings?
no subject
And Kaveh let himself buy into it for a moment, didn't he? He let himself melt, asked himself why Alhaitham would go to this effort, let himself start to hope—
But if the scribe's earlier birthday wish distracted him from those thoughts, the latest comment tears them to shreds in front of him. Why would this cake have any meaning when the man himself says that cakes aren't meant to do that?
Ugh.
...He doesn't want Alhaitham to see that he's disappointed. It would be too telling, wouldn't it?
Kaveh takes a bite of the cake; despite the bitter ache in his chest, its sweetness fills him with a nostalgia that brings a gentle smile to his lips, and the laugh he offers is genuine enough as a result as he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. ]
Just because you don't have a romantic bone in your body, Alhaitham— Don't you know that events like those draw people together? Even during Sumeru's recent emergency, people were still coming together and falling in love.
[ Despite his best attempts, his words falter and quaver right at the end, and Kaveh's eyes drop back to the cake in his lap as he catches his breath. Fuck. What's wrong with him today? ]
Ha. I'm sure you're right though. If cakes are a declaration of love, then what was I saying to Tighnari last month?
no subject
[ He says, deadpan as ever, attention fixed on that slight falter at the end and the way Kaveh's gaze suddenly drops to his lap. Alhaitham finds himself wishing he had the ability to simply read the other man's thoughts; it'd certainly make it a lot easier to understand what's going on with him today—there has to be something else that's factoring into his ongoing crisis that hasn't been made evident yet, but surmising what it is just from watching his body language is getting more frustrating by the second.
Then Kaveh talks about cakes and Tighnari in the same sentence and Alhaitham falls into an uncharacteristic silence, the kind that stretches on long enough for it to be uncomfortable and makes the very air around them feel still and oppressive; almost like the pressure drop right before the coming storm. The gears in his head start to move, as if something is verge of slotting into place as he turns every word in their conversation up until now over in his head, analyzing them with this new information in mind.
Tighnari's birthday is in December so it definitely wasn't intended to congratulate him... and Kaveh had just launched into the historically inaccurate story behind the love cake entirely unprompted, for some reason, while completely sober. The romantic aspect of it means something to him; it's therefore not unreasonable to assume that he would give someone a cake with the intention of expressing certain sentiment toward the recipient.
Also... didn't Tighnari and Cyno make their relationship official recently? ]
...So that's what this is about, then? You're upset because you were too late in confessing your feelings for Tighnari. [ It doesn't show on his face, but something in his stomach churns at the thought, a tendril of jealousy rising in his chest. ]
no subject
And then Alhaitham finally speaks, and Kaveh nearly chokes.
Somehow, the scribe has pieced together two and two to come up with seven, a fact as embarrassing as it is a relief. And it's tempting, so tempting, to let him believe it, if only to stop this line of questioning— but Kaveh can't lie about this, can't will himself between Tighnari and Cyno even to save his own skin. So he shakes his head, a gathering thickness in his throat; if nothing else, the confusion on his face should show Alhaitham that he's genuine. ]
What? I don't have feelings for Tighnari. [ It would be wisest, perhaps, to end the statement there, but ever the over-achiever, Kaveh continues: ] Anyway, it's not just about love. There are other things too, it's just—
[ His words melt into an oddly-strangled noise as he realizes what he's said. And then, for the second time in mere minutes: ]
Never mind.
no subject
No, do continue. What were you about to say?
[ The skin between his brows crease in thought as looks Kaveh in the eye, gaze akin to the claws of an eagle as it sinks into the soft body of a rabbit; he's not going to let him get away with a "never mind". ]
no subject
But he doesn't have to tell the whole of the truth, does he.
He takes a breath, breaks off the barest morsel of the cake (and he hates how it tastes like sawdust in a mouth filled with the sickness of anxiety). ]
I had plans, that's all. I wanted to be a real success. By the time my parents were my age, they had careers and a house. They were married. They were living well, Alhaitham, they weren't broke and hiding in someone else's spare room while they tried to make ends meet. They weren't going from dead-end relationship to dead-end relationship while waiting for the right person to even notice they existed.
[ Too much. Wasn't that too much? Surely the only person in his life who barely notices he exists is Alhaitham
(even if that's decidedly untrue, if he looks at it from an unbiased, unbroken perspective: it's his birthday, and he's sitting under a tree on Gandha Hill with a cake the other went out of his way to buy, after canceling an appointment set by others on the strength of a tantrum)
and surely that means that he's basically confessed his feelings to the other man through a statement that may as well have said a name— He barely notices it through the gathering of tears clouding his vision, bleeding slow drops of saltwater into the cake in his lap.
He swipes impatiently at his own eyes, sniffling against the emotion. ]
Until I fucked it up for them, they had a real life, something amazing, something to be proud of. I... I haven't even had enough of anything worth fucking up. And now I'm thirty, and I just— I feel like I've wasted too much time, Alhaitham, that's all.
[ A wet, miserable laugh. He bets the other regrets his line of questioning now. ]
no subject
Most of it isn't new information. He's well aware of the guilt Kaveh carries like a millstone around his neck, his perceived responsibility for his father dying out in the desert even though the blame should be placed upon Sachin. This is where most other people would perhaps try to assuage it by saying it wasn't your fault, you were just a child. But Alhaitham isn't most other people and he leaves the topic of Kaveh's guilt be. That is something Kaveh ought to discuss with a therapist because it's way above his pay grade.
The metaphorical scalpel continues to make its incision. As he thought; in hitting this milestone that's a multiple of ten, he's become painfully aware of the things he failed to accomplish in his twenties. His earlier conclusion was only slightly off in assuming he was comparing his accomplishments (or lack thereof) to those of his peers rather than his parents's.
He lifts his hand as though he's about to reach out and wipe Kaveh's tears away, but aborts the motion and lets it drop back down to his lap. "—waiting for the right person to even notice they existed."
This is new information. And as previously established, it cannot be Tighnari. Not that he would even fit the description of someone who'd fail to notice that he exists. But who could it be? He cannot think of a single person in Kaveh's social circle who would fit. And it can't be him, given that he went out of his way to buy him the cake he's now crying into. From a logical point of view, he doesn't fit at all. But this is Kaveh, driven by emotion and not always moderated by reason. From his point of view, Alhaitham is a cold and unfeeling asshole. Of course he would think he never noticed him.
Something indescribable tightens in his chest as the thought settles into his mind, resting heavily against his ribcage. Alhaitham's hands ball into fists against his legs. He can remain silent and maintain the status quo as he's already done for over a decade, or... speak, not knowing for certain if conclusion is even the right one. ]
Perhaps the right person was waiting for signs of reciprocal interest. [ A quiet exhale. He still doesn't avert his gaze, as tempting it is to look at Sumeru City instead as the words leave his mouth. ] I assumed you weren't interested in me.
no subject
Of course you'd think that—! Do you have any idea how many people I've seen over the years trying to get your attention, all to be responded to with the cluelessness of a hydro fungus in a rainstorm? Why would I imagine it's any different for me, even when we— we—
[ The stream of words stops as abruptly as it started, Kaveh's voice trailing into nothingness as wide, wet crimson eyes blink once, twice, three times, the whole of Alhaitham's statement finally hitting home, leaving him to sit in stupefied silence. Alhaitham assumed that Kaveh wasn't interested in him, but— but he was waiting— hoping? This whole time, has the scribe had the same hesitation as Kaveh?
The hope, silenced by the rejection of the cake's meaning, swells and beats in his chest, fills his stomach with crystalflies, and Kaveh's lips part around words that won't quite come, questions and statements that won't quite form from the addled recesses of his mind.
...Besides, through it all, isn't there only one thing that matters? ]
Then... let me clear up any doubts you might have. I am interested, Alhaitham. I'm— [ A breath. His mouth feels dry, the words still heavy on his tongue despite finally knowing they're safe to say. ] I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for years.
no subject
...Do you remember our first academic debate, Kaveh? That's the precise moment I fell in love.
[ It was around five months after their first encounter in the library; he was fourteen at the time, right on the cusp of entering puberty, and he wasn't used to debating with people who could keep up with him. But then Kaveh had entered his life and proved his mettle by keeping pace with him for well over two hours, red eyes alight with unmatched brilliance and passion. It had knocked the metaphorical breath out of Alhaitham and the debate could've easily lasted even longer than it did had they not needed to eat.
Somewhat begrudgingly, he ceded victory to Kaveh and concluded that his own inexperience with debates in a proper academic setting was the reason he had lost, vowing to work on articulating his arguments with better precision and gravitas and to better avoid the fallacies that weaken his position. ]
You're the only person I've ever wanted to be with.
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And under the shroud of the fear, it feels like forever before the other actually responds, and Kaveh's hand lifts to lay across that thumbing at his tear, a smile finding his lips as he nods, as he laughs— and then as his brows lift in surprise. Alhaitham... in love with him since they were just kids? He thought he had been waiting for a long time, but this...
He remembers that day, too: the near excitement gleaming in Alhaitham's emerald eyes as he realized he'd met his match, the strength and reasoning behind each argument. Then, once both of their stomachs were audibly growling their hunger, the frustration behind his words as he ceded victory to Kaveh for the first and last time. The senior of the two boys had been curious about his junior from the start, had seen his brilliance, but on that day Kaveh recognized just how brilliant Alhaitham was.
As to whether that's when he fell in love, he doesn't know. Kaveh's love awakened more slowly, invisible to him until it had swallowed him whole.
And so there's a lot to discuss, probably, answers and explanations of his own to give... but very suddenly all he can think about is the pink of the other man's lips, how sweet they must taste with the dusting of fragmented glaze across them, how they might part against his own, stealing a taste Kaveh has for so long dreamed of offering.
He bites his lip. ]
Can I kiss you?
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That's the reply in Alhaitham's mind, but he doesn't verbalize it—in fact, he says nothing at all and decides to give his answer by scooting closer and reaching up to capture the sides of Kaveh's face with both hands; he then proceeds to gently angle his head slightly to the side so their noses won't collide as he leans closer and closer until their lips meet. His eyes slide closed as he makes a soft noise against the other's mouth, relishing in the feeling of those soft lips against his own and focusing his senses on nothing else but that sensation he's drowning himself in.
It's stiff and a little awkward, but that's Alhaitham's inexperience shining through rather than a sign that he isn't enjoying every second; it is, after all, his very first kiss and although he's read about kissing in many of the thousands of books he's read in his life it doesn't translate into real life experience. Kaveh tastes faintly of rosewater and cardamom and in that moment it feels like they were made to slot perfectly together, like two intertwined roots of the very tree they're sitting under. ]
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It's overwhelming enough that it takes him a moment for him to recognize it for what it is, to understand that the angle of Alhaitham's lips is ever so slightly awkward, that there's something just that little bit stiff that speaks to something not quite being right
—and Kaveh is a smart man, despite how he may sometimes act, and he remembers what his own first kiss felt like, all awkward placements and nervous energy—
He pulls away, crimson eyes wide and soft with emotions he can't quite place just yet. ]
That... Alhaitham, you've never kissed anyone before? [ And then, with devastating clarity: ] Were you— were you waiting for me?
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At the question, he just gives the other a long look. ]
Didn't I just say that you're the only person I've ever wanted to be with? Try paying attention, Kaveh.
[ He never saw the point in intimate acts like kissing if it wasn't with Kaveh, didn't feel like he was missing out. It just seemed like a hassle he didn't want to bother with if he couldn't do those things with the one person that mattered the most. All these years, it's only been him. So yes, he has in fact been waiting. ]
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If you've got the ability to be an ass, then I clearly haven't kissed you properly enough.
[ There's a lot of things he should say. That Alhaitham is clearly more sentimental than he lets on. That he didn't need to wait. That he should have said something sooner rather than later. He's a hypocrite, he knows. And he should tell him, Kaveh thinks again, when he realized his own feelings.
But they've got time for that. And right now, today, they've got a lot of time to make up.
So he closes the space between them once more instead, and this time his fingers curl fists into the tight material of Alhaitham's clothing, pulling him close, his tongue skating over the scribe's lower lip. ]
You need practice, [ he mumbles by way of explanation, a soft laugh whispering between their mouths. ]