[ Oh. Oh, now Alhaitham is awake, a groan spilling from his mouth as his eyes open, as he husks the nickname he granted Kaveh some time ago, drawing him into another kiss as the older man makes a soft sound in response, eagerly rolling his hips into the other man's. While he woke up flaccid this morning, his own erection is quickly coming to life under the sensations, leaving him to sigh and moan. ]
H-Haitham, [ he mumbles, words stolen wherever he can between kisses, arms winding tight around the other man's waist. ] Mm.. I see you're awake now...
[ Gods, and what he wouldn't give to wake up like this every day, he thinks somewhere vaguely, tangled like this and basking in the pleasure the other as to offer. ]
[With a hum, he nods, still kissing Kaveh's mouth like it's delectable. He gasps and deepens the kiss slowly in response to Kaveh's slowly growing interest. He nips at his lower lip and tugs his head back to pull at it gently.]
Feels good, [uttered still against Kaveh's lips, like he can't really get enough of it, like he refuses to get away now that they're pressed so tightly. The only thing he does is adjust their position so the slope of their erections can grind into each other, and when they slot just so he sighs, long and deep.] Want to do this every day…
[ It would be so, so easy to tell Alhaitham that they can. The words are on his lips before he can think twice, and he has to bite them back, to shut himself up before he says something that's too much, too deep. He bites them back so harshly that if it were a real bite, his lip would bleed, focuses instead on Alhaitham's mouth and his sweetness, and the way their bodies slot together, making him arch his back and moan. ]
I—mn, it does. You're—haah... don't stop.
[ Another breathless groan against the younger's mouth as he rolls his hips. ]
[Soothing Kaveh's bruised lips, he kisses them to tenderness until he feels them plumper, until he sees them flushed. Wondering absently what makes Kaveh hold back so strongly, yet demanding Alhaitham to keep going. The contradiction feels tempting to prod further, and yet—
He releases the man in his arms only to set their erections free, holding them both in his grasp, even if he arches his chest, the skin on skin electrifying.] Can't stop— You're so beautiful.
[ Perhaps thankfully, he doesn't realize that Alhaitham can see right through him, can recognize there's something on his lips that he doesn't dare speak. The words unspoken are on a leash so tight they might snap him, and so the unspoken recognition is for the best for now, allowing him to cant into the other's touch, gasping out loud as the younger takes both of their erections in his hand.
(Gods he wants him, he wants this for real—) ]
You.. you too, [ he whispers, struck by the praise—and then shakes his head. "Beautiful" is wrong for Alhaitham. He's... ]
No, that's wrong. You're handsome. You're like... like those statues they make. Of gods. I can't...
[Kissing Kaveh again, to shush him, to steady him, to feel him. He's not able to handle praise, not right then, not when he's leaning on him so gently, rolling his hips into the tight enclosure of his fingers and the throbbing underside of Kaveh's cock. Holding Kaveh so tightly against him the motion is minimal, but it's enough, the shifting of their weighted breaths is enough to make his skin sing, his breath hitch, his heart flutter at the sight of this enraptured man.]
Kaveh... [He may look like a godly statue, but he's the one who sounds like he's worshipping, like he's praying. Devout, ardent in the way he loves, as though Kaveh holds the answers to everything.]
[ His name in the other's voice, that tone... even without the tight, stroking grip on his cock, it would be enough to continue building his pleasure. Alhaitham breathes his name like the last breath of a man drowning, like the prayer of the most devout of priests, like it's his last hope. And Kaveh all but sobs in answer, clinging to him as he continues to stroke them both, offering the pleasure they both so need.
It's his turn, this time, to break the kiss, even though it was designed to shush him; his mouth trails soft presses down over Alhaitham's jaw and throat, and he nips at the skin, soothing it with his lips and tongue in the following moment as he sighs.
And his hips roll up in answers to those touches, bringing him ever closer to an end he almost doesn't want, because it means that this stops. ]
[The less he speaks, the less he begs, the less he hears of that voice claiming him, the longer he lasts. Alhaitham finally closes his eyes, gasping into the warmth of Kaveh's mouth, into the depths of his throat, and it feels like he can't tell where he ends and Kaveh begins, he can't tell which pleasure is driven from whom. He arches his neck with a soft gasp, a 'ah' escaped from his throat at the feeling of teeth on his skin. His hand cover both of the crowns of their cocks, and he whimpers.] I'm-
[ It's a soft, desperate gasp into Alhaitham's skin, another sharp nip of Kaveh's teeth as he sucks in a sharp breath, shuddering under the younger man's touches. He's so close, and hearing Alhaitham whimper doesn't help him, only drives him closer as he gasps and arches and aches— ]
[He begs for a kiss again, nuzzling Kaveh with a pitiful gaze until he turns to him and their lips meet again. To find that connection always felt like the final piece of a puzzle being set between the two of them, like a seal of what they truly are, what they truly want. This is how they find purpose, this is how they find happiness. Alhaitham would refute and argue against all of this rationally, but he feels like everything is solved when Kaveh is this close to him, sharing some of his adoration.
And it's only when they kiss that Alhaitham allows himself to be free, to climax with a soft gasp, like it's not their hands, their bodies, the friction of their cores, making him peak and spill on his fingers, on their stomachs.] Kah—
[ And how can he not give in to those soft, pleading eyes? Kaveh's heart aches at the sight of them, enough that he gives himself over immediately, a half-formed lovebite forgotten in the wake of a kiss, a sweet murmur against Alhaitham's lips as he anchors himself close.
And then, the moment their lips touch, the other's orgasm hits him, and Kaveh's follows like an avalanche, tumbling down right behind. A sob, a whimper, a gasp: ]
Haitham—
[ and he spills, seed blending imperceptible with the younger's as it coats his fingers and their stomachs. ]
[Mindlessness coats his actions as he rolls them so Kaveh is strewn across his body, settling back and reveling in the kisses, still trembling from his climax, calling out for Kaveh in small, almost imperceptible mewls, like he's seeing how the word tastes in his mouth, how each sillable weighs on his tongue. He's smiling, forgetful of all the troubles and misdirections and aimless feelings and personas, focused only on the slide down from both their peaks.
He craves more, greed tracing at the lowest, most base part of him that he tends to so promptly discard. He wishes for more only because he knows that he probably could have had it if this were any other way.
So Alhaitham is determined to cherish what he gets, even if his heart is surging with some sort of strange and thoughtless hint at happiness that he's never experienced before.]
Good morning, [he says after a while, his mouth in a smile, tracing Kaveh's shoulder with a fingertip.]
[ There's always something sweet about the aftermath, about seeing the usually-stoic Alhaitham so thoroughly unwound, mewling his name and panting for breath even as he continues to kiss and stroke and touch, all the mindless and secretive little smiles forming the corners of his mouth. It makes Kaveh happy to watch, seeing each play out on his face one after the other before he buries his own expressions in the crook of the other's neck with a sigh, arms winding around him tight.
(His own face is a jumble, mixed emotions and feelings, the clench of his heart tells him he knows his answer when he believes completely he does not, the staccato of his breath is short and sweet against sweated skin as he sighs and sighs and sighs.) ]
Good morning, [ he whispers back, and his heart trembles with both fullness and fear. ]
Do you want to order that coffee now? [He asks, though he doesn't let go of him yet as he strokes his hair, as he wipes his hand on the far side of the bed (room service will get it, he must remember to tug and bundle the sheets so the staff doesn't have to deal with all of that). Alhaitham keeps pecking at his temple, at his hair, content and sated like a very pleased cat who had the most loveliest of sleeps under the sun. Like he hadn't grumpily asked for more time just a few minutes before.]
laughs, a bright and genuine noise even as his hands come up to Alhaitham's chest, push at him slightly. ]
Oh, my God. You're incorrigible. Get the guy and the coffee, huh...
[ He's acting offended, but there's a smile on his face and in his voice that gives the game away before he can really pretend otherwise, and he laughs as he leans up, presses a sweet kiss to Alhaitham's mouth before using his leverage on the other's chest to push himself just slightly away, turning for his phone.
The chime sounds at the same time as he picks it up, and there's another laugh, a half-started statement on his lips about perfect timing, but as crimson eyes fall on the short, urgent message on the screen, they widen and he fumbles the phone in his grip, dropping it momentarily onto the mess of sheets between them.
It bounces from the bed onto the floor. Kaveh's eyes, wide, settle on Alhaitham's face. ]
[Alhaitham is halfway through a chuckle, riding the smooth sailing of the endorphins in his body and even rolling to pretend to chase after Kaveh, pressing kisses to his spine where he can reach—
Only for Kaveh's back to tense under his lips; at first, Alhaitham thinks he has found a ticklish part. But quickly he sees the phone fumbling and falling, and he looks up to find Kaveh's eyes panicking, fear and excitement and anxiousness all at once.
He crawls up and kisses him quickly, rolling the both of them up and off the bed and patting Kaveh's behind to the bathroom.] Go, I'll clean the room first.
[ The day is both the longest and the shortest of Kaveh's life. It's spent largely in the Fontaine hospital, sometimes in his mother's room and sometimes in the waiting room, holding her hand and pacing halls and having awkward conversations with his obviously-terrified step-father. He's who he is, so he would never impose the thoughts on anyone except Alhaitham, who already knows, but he's terrified too, caught between an older brother's affection for a soon-to-be-born sibling and the sickening fear that this baby will replace him, the worry that the fear will lead to hate—
But then Nadia is born and he realizes he never should have worried at all, because Kaveh's not sure he's ever loved anyone as much as he loves her.
He spends the rest of the day at the hospital, and most of the day after too, seeing Alhaitham when he can and checking in when he can't. His mother is still too tired for guests outside Nadia's father and brother, and Kaveh's small greetings and messages are apologetic, the blonde feeling no small measure of guilt over having dragged the other man all the way to another country just to abandon him in the hotel.
On the third day, though, Faranak asks Kaveh to bring Alhaitham to the hospital with him. Something about Alhaitham being an "important friend" of her son's, something Kaveh doesn't pass on because despite their distance, his mother knows him far too well and it's embarrassing. But he does bring the other with him as requested, and before long they're stepping together into Faranak's room, Kaveh holding a fresh bouquet of flowers.
The woman in question is sitting up in bed, bright and smiling as she greets them, and no sooner does she see Alhaitham than an offer is made:
[Alhaitham had been by Kaveh’s side throughout the past few days, offering quiet reassurances and steadfast support. He’d seen the tension in Kaveh’s body during the long hours of waiting, his pacing, the mixture of excitement and fear, and he was never far from Kaveh’s side, offering quiet support when needed and space when necessary. And when Nadia was born, he had watched Kaveh fall instantly in love with his little sister, the joy in his eyes replacing the worry that had haunted him. He never once complained about the waiting or the awkwardness of being a silent presence in the hospital. Instead, Alhaitham did what he did best: observed, absorbed, and made himself useful in quiet, thoughtful ways. He was Kaveh's anchor, offering comfort with his presence and allowing Kaveh the space to process his emotions. He made sure Kaveh had dinner, a steady shoulder to hold onto, a chest to fall asleep to as Alhaitham described to him the latest chapter of the book he had just purchased as he waited for Kaveh to come back to him.
Now, stepping into Faranak’s hospital room with Kaveh beside him, he’s greeted with the bright smile of Kaveh’s mother, her face a mix of exhaustion and joy. The room is softly lit, the air hushed as though the space itself is aware of the preciousness it holds. Alhaitham feels a certain reverence in his movements, keeping his voice quiet and his gestures gentle, making sure not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. He is courteous towards Faranak, offering a polite nod as he steps in beside Kaveh, who carries a fresh bouquet.]
Congratulations. [He speaks softly, his eyes taking in the quiet scene before him—Nadia, a small bundle of life swaddled in a pale blanket beside her mother, fast asleep.
When Faranak asks if Alhaitham wants to hold Nadia, his eyes dart immediately to Kaveh. He searches his face, silently asking for permission. Despite their closeness, this is still a delicate moment—a family moment—and Alhaitham wants to ensure Kaveh is okay with him stepping into such an intimate role.
Kaveh gives a small nod, and Alhaitham returns his attention to Faranak, his expression soft but composed as he accepts the offer. He approaches the bed, moving carefully as he crouches slightly to gently lift the tiny bundle of blankets. With all the knowledge he has accumulated from reading various books on child-rearing, he instinctively cradles the newborn in the crook of his arm, supporting her head with practiced ease. His movements are slow, deliberate—he is determined to hold her as carefully as possible.
As Nadia stirs slightly in his arms, her tiny face scrunches before her scarlet eyes, the same shade as Kaveh’s and Faranak’s, blink open. They’re foggy, as newborns’ eyes tend to be, but they fixate upwards, right at him, her curiosity as palpable as her smallness. For a moment, Alhaitham freezes. Nadia’s eyes, though foggy with newborn innocence, are unmistakably the same shade of red as Kaveh’s and Faranak’s. It strikes him, how powerful and vibrant that color is, even in its softness. Alhaitham feels something stir deep within him, an unexpected warmth blossoming in his chest. He’s instantly smitten, mesmerized by how fragile and yet how alive she is.
Alhaitham’s breath catches as her gaze—unfocused, yet curious—settles on him. Her tiny body feels impossibly delicate in his arms, her small chest rising and falling in quiet, rhythmic breaths. And yet, she is already so alive, so intent on the shapes and lights around her, though her little eyes can’t fully comprehend them yet.
Her soft, downy hair barely dusts her head, and Alhaitham can’t help but lean in just slightly to inhale the faint scent of her. She smells like a newborn—clean, sweet, and somehow innocent in a way that is hard to describe.
With the utmost care, Alhaitham walks towards the window, cradling Nadia in his arms. The soft glow of the city beyond catches her attention, her tiny head turning slightly as if she’s drawn to the colors and lights, even though her eyes can’t quite make sense of them yet. Alhaitham watches as her gaze, though unfocused, follows the movements outside with a kind of rapt attention.
He adjusts the little collar of her bib with a gentle finger, and as he does, Nadia’s tiny hand reaches up, her fingers curling around his finger. The grip is soft but surprisingly strong for someone so small, and Alhaitham’s heart melts instantly. He’s not one to be easily swayed by sentimentality, but there’s something undeniably powerful about this tiny life wrapped in his arms, so curious and full of potential.
Alhaitham feels something in his chest tighten and melt all at once.]
How strong you are already, [he whispers softly, his voice filled with a kind of awe that rarely colors his words. His eyes never leave her, completely absorbed by the tiny life in his arms.]
[ It's a strange feeling indeed, the one that settles in Kaveh's heart when his mother asks Alhaitham if he'd like to hold Nadia. There's no hesitation in him at all when the other man—his friend, his roommate, his... situationship, for lack of a better word—seeks permission not only from the woman asking but from him too, and yet there's a hint of trepidation in his heart, something he can't fully understand as the scholar gathers the bundle of blankets that is his baby sister into his arms. Faranak, entirely trusting of Alhaitham in a way Kaveh did not foresee, turns her attention to the flowers her son brought, but her words of thanks and praise fall on ears near-deaf as his own attention remains on the other man: watching.
At first, it's with a strange sense of older brother's protectiveness: he trusts Alhaitham, of course, but has he ever held a baby before? But within moments of the younger man gathering his sister into his arms, that protectiveness fades, replaced by a feeling in his stomach Kaveh can't quite understand.
It's the look on Alhaitham's face, surprised and yet so deeply fond, as Nadia's eyes open to meet his. It's the way he leans in ever-so-slightly to breathe in the faint scent that is so undeniably her. It's the care with which he walks to the window, showing her scenes she can't yet comprehend. It's the soft, whispered awe in his voice when Kaveh's sister takes his finger in her small hand, answering his readjustment of her clothing.
And Kaveh—
Kaveh feels his mother's hand on his, gentle even as it squeezes, pulling his attention away from the man at the window. Crimson eyes meet crimson, and the smile on her face is one of knowing affection, one of knowing the answer before he has even fully accepted it himself.
But she's right, and it's true, and he's in love, he realizes. He's in love, and he has been for a while now.
Faranak smiles, and Kaveh smiles back, something tremulous even as he nods. Tears threaten to well in his eyes, but he fights them back, instead sets about quietly putting the flowers he brought in a vase, propping up his mother's pillows even as she tuts at him and tells him to stop fussing.
But the whole time, his attention remains on Alhaitham, and the love in those emerald eyes. ]
[For a moment, it’s as if the world has narrowed to him and Nadia. The sensation is foreign to him—this kind of connection. He grew up an only child, raised mostly by his grandmother after his parents passed away. His childhood had been happy, yes, but solitary in many ways. He was always content with his books, his studies, his quiet world. But this? This moment of holding a newborn, a fragile life wrapped in warmth and possibility—this was something entirely new, and it filled him with an emotion he hadn't expected.
He had never been a part of something like this before, and now, standing here, a part of Kaveh's world, he realizes just how wonderful it feels. How fulfilling it is to be here, holding Kaveh’s sister, sharing in this monumental moment of his life. There’s a quiet joy that bubbles up in his chest, a deep satisfaction that feels like it’s settling into his bones.]
You’re incredible already, [he whispers again, his voice full of wonder as he gently adjusts Nadia’s swaddle once more. The small life in his arms stirs slightly, her head tilting just enough to rest against his chest, and for a fleeting second, Alhaitham feels like he's protecting something far more precious than anything he's ever held.
And then he feels it—the subtle shift in the room. He glances up, his eyes meeting Kaveh’s from across the space, and for a brief moment, the world seems to stop. The hospital room, the city outside, the past few days—all of it fades away as those familiar crimson eyes, so full of warmth and something deeper, lock onto his. Alhaitham can see it. In that moment, everything feels right. He feels a part of this, a part of something bigger than himself, and the warmth that fills him is overwhelming in its simplicity.
Alhaitham smiles—soft, genuine, a rare expression that is usually reserved for only the most precious of moments.
He turns, carefully making his way back to the bedside where Faranak is waiting. With the same gentleness he had when he first took Nadia, Alhaitham returns the baby to her mother, cradling her small body as though handling the most delicate treasure.]
She’s wonderful, [he says softly, his voice filled with quiet reverence. He straightens slightly, watching as Faranak takes her daughter back, and there’s a sense of completeness in the air, a quiet acknowledgment that something beautiful has just been shared between them all.]
[ Kaveh's ears are sharp enough to catch Alhaitham's whispers to Nadia, and yet not sharp enough to understand the words he says. And yet, he thinks, perhaps it doesn't matter. Standing here, watching him from across the room as he cradles his baby sister, the barest hint of a smile on his face as he watches her, adjusts her, Kaveh's heart fills with still more fondness. He doesn't know how he didn't see it before, but perhaps that doesn't matter. He sees it now, and his heart aches with it, bursts with excitement and that feeling that he needs to share—
Coppered eyes glance up, and a moment stretches into eternity as viridian meets carmine. In that moment, they both know. Everything is as it's meant to be. Outside of it, later, the words must still be spoken. But right now—
Kaveh can only watch as Alhaitham moves back to the bed, returns daughter to mother, and perhaps he should hold his own baby sister for a while, but Faranak sees moments that even now he fails to parse, yawns as she hugs her daughter close before placing her in the crib at her side. She's tired, she tells them, she's sorry for having them come so far for so short a visit, but perhaps they can return a little later in the day, if they're so inclined?
The words see them out of the hospital once more, a meaningful look offered to her son, who even now fiddles with his phone, a frown on his expression as his brain tries to catch up to the head-start his heart has so suddenly taken. ]
Should we... go back to the hotel to eat? And I guess we can figure out if we wanna do anything after that...?
[As they step out of the hospital, the weight of the moment lingers in the air between them, though there’s a certain quiet peace that has settled over Alhaitham. He glances over at Kaveh, noticing the subtle frown on his face, the way he fiddles with his phone as if searching for some sort of distraction. Him, too, feels the weight of unspoken words pressing gently at the edges of his mind, he supposes.
Kaveh’s suggestion of going back to the hotel feels like a welcome reprieve from the emotional intensity of the hospital. Alhaitham smiles softly, slipping his hand onto Kaveh’s shoulder in a gesture of reassurance.]
That sounds good. [There's an undercurrent of affection that slips through as he speaks.] Let’s head back, eat something, and take it slow.
[He’s grateful for the space to breathe, the quiet between them not awkward but simply reflective, as they make their way back to the hotel. The streets of Fontaine bustle around them, but for once, Alhaitham isn’t paying attention to the architecture or the intricacies of the city. His thoughts remain fixed on the way Kaveh had watched him with Nadia, the look they shared, the quiet between them that seemed to settle deeper than words ever could.
They reach the hotel, and as they step inside the familiar warmth of their room, Alhaitham finally lets out a soft sigh. He glances over at Kaveh, and for a moment, it’s just the two of them again, away from the hospital, the family, the expectations. He moves toward the small sitting area, the gentle glow of the city still casting shadows across the room as he sets his things down.]
What do you feel like eating? Something light? Or should we indulge a little more after the day we’ve had?
[ Eat something. Take it slow. They're wise words, and yet Kaveh's heart refuses to slow down, rushing forward at a constant, breakneck pace with which his head can't keep up. What Alhaitham sees as space to breathe is experienced by the elder of the two as something of a dizzying fog, unable to take his mind away from the experience that the two of them just shared, the buried meaning beneath the moment chasing him, seizing him, holding him still even in the wake of the the other's words as they arrive back in the hotel, as he crosses their room to the seating area, bathed in the evening shadows.
What does he feel like eating—How can Alhaitham even think of food at a time like this? Everything is so different now—
He shakes as he crosses the room, putting his own things down, trembling fingers still clutching tight to his phone as if it's some sort of lifeline.
The answer has been in front of him all along, and yet even now he can't just reach out and take it, not yet. First, he—
No. First: food. He takes a breath. ]
I—
[ He can't decide. How can he decide when his heart and mind are in a shambles like this? Indulgence seems to be the letter of the day, but what if he speaks up and everything comes crumbling down around him like it was made from the beginning of glass? What if, after all of this, nothing plays out the way he imagines it would? He feels ill with unease, so maybe something light is smarter after all, just in case...
His fingers grip tighter around his phone, and he looks up at Alhaitham, expression troubled. ]
Trembling fingers grip his phone tightly—too tightly. The tension in Kaveh's body laps at Alhaitham's skin, and for a moment, his heart sinks. The quiet certainty he had felt in the hospital, that shared look—it all feels it’s slipping through his fingers like sand.
Perhaps he had misread everything.
Perhaps he had misread all of it. Granted, he needed to reciprocation—he made that very clear, Kaveh does not have to reciprocate the feelings and the affection he wants to place upon him.
And yet, the warmth and connection he’d felt, the peace in holding Nadia, the shared look with Kaveh, the moment of quiet what he thought was love—it all feels wrong, misplaced. Had Kaveh been imagining someone else? Had he been thinking of Euler, of someone who wasn’t standing there with him, holding his baby sister, sharing that intimate moment with his family? Maybe that look between them hadn’t been an affirmation at all, but rather Kaveh’s longing for Euler to be there in Alhaitham’s place.
The thought twists something deep inside him, something that feels suspiciously like hurt. Alhaitham thought he had been enough—he thought he had been the person Kaveh wanted to be there with him. But now, the doubt creeps in, and it’s insidious. The very idea that Kaveh had been wanting someone else all along, that all of this—the affection, the closeness—wasn’t meant for him but for the version of himself he had created as Euler...
He swallows hard, his hand pausing where it had been reaching out to brush Kaveh’s shoulder. The movement stalls, hovers, and then falls onto the shoulder nonetheless, concerned.]
I see. [He doesn’t want to make this about himself, doesn’t want to burden Kaveh with his own emotions when Kaveh is struggling. But still, it lingers, a quiet ache that twists in his chest.
Maybe Kaveh’s heart was with Euler all along.
Alhaitham clears his throat softly, his eyes flicking toward the window, the city lights casting long shadows across the room.]
[ Kaveh doesn't realize how the words may come across until they're spoken, filling the space between them with a sudden, frightening amount of uncertainty. In his mind, there's no denying at all the moments that stretched between them in the hospital. Against his better judgement, almost against his very will, his heart opened like a flower in bloom and showed all the truths hidden inside—showed them not just to Alhaitham, but to Kaveh himself, who understands now that there's no point in running. And he was so sure that they felt that same thing in that moment that his words were spoken in tune with it, an admission of understanding that can no longer be denied.
But Alhaitham's hand flutters, he speaks with hurt in his voice, and as Kaveh looks up at him, confusion writ into his features, he realizes—they weren't singing quite the same melody after all.
Somehow, that only makes things all the more terrifying. Naturally, the whole thing makes him want to start running all over again, to never look back—
But he also knows, deep down, that there's no running from this. Not anymore.
He takes a breath, shakes his head—slow. Thoughtful. ]
That's not what I mean.
[ His voice is shaky with nerves, and yet strong with certainty, and he steps forward, turns, places himself between Alhaitham and the window, taking up as much as he can of the other's view. ]
I just... I need to talk to him, because—because things have changed for me, and I think he deserves to know.
[ It's a change that's been happening, little by little, for a while—even longer than he realized. But he sees it now, clear as the bright look in Nadia's eyes when she took Alhaitham's finger in her little hand. And now that he sees it, he has to honor it. Because— ]
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sempiternals2023-10-04 01:27 am
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H-Haitham, [ he mumbles, words stolen wherever he can between kisses, arms winding tight around the other man's waist. ] Mm.. I see you're awake now...
[ Gods, and what he wouldn't give to wake up like this every day, he thinks somewhere vaguely, tangled like this and basking in the pleasure the other as to offer. ]
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Feels good, [uttered still against Kaveh's lips, like he can't really get enough of it, like he refuses to get away now that they're pressed so tightly. The only thing he does is adjust their position so the slope of their erections can grind into each other, and when they slot just so he sighs, long and deep.] Want to do this every day…
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I—mn, it does. You're—haah... don't stop.
[ Another breathless groan against the younger's mouth as he rolls his hips. ]
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He releases the man in his arms only to set their erections free, holding them both in his grasp, even if he arches his chest, the skin on skin electrifying.] Can't stop— You're so beautiful.
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(Gods he wants him, he wants this for real—) ]
You.. you too, [ he whispers, struck by the praise—and then shakes his head. "Beautiful" is wrong for Alhaitham. He's... ]
No, that's wrong. You're handsome. You're like... like those statues they make. Of gods. I can't...
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Kaveh... [He may look like a godly statue, but he's the one who sounds like he's worshipping, like he's praying. Devout, ardent in the way he loves, as though Kaveh holds the answers to everything.]
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It's his turn, this time, to break the kiss, even though it was designed to shush him; his mouth trails soft presses down over Alhaitham's jaw and throat, and he nips at the skin, soothing it with his lips and tongue in the following moment as he sighs.
And his hips roll up in answers to those touches, bringing him ever closer to an end he almost doesn't want, because it means that this stops. ]
Please—
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[ It's a soft, desperate gasp into Alhaitham's skin, another sharp nip of Kaveh's teeth as he sucks in a sharp breath, shuddering under the younger man's touches. He's so close, and hearing Alhaitham whimper doesn't help him, only drives him closer as he gasps and arches and aches— ]
Ngh, Haitham—
[ Too much, not enough, he can't— ]
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And it's only when they kiss that Alhaitham allows himself to be free, to climax with a soft gasp, like it's not their hands, their bodies, the friction of their cores, making him peak and spill on his fingers, on their stomachs.] Kah—
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And then, the moment their lips touch, the other's orgasm hits him, and Kaveh's follows like an avalanche, tumbling down right behind. A sob, a whimper, a gasp: ]
Haitham—
[ and he spills, seed blending imperceptible with the younger's as it coats his fingers and their stomachs. ]
Nn..
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He craves more, greed tracing at the lowest, most base part of him that he tends to so promptly discard. He wishes for more only because he knows that he probably could have had it if this were any other way.
So Alhaitham is determined to cherish what he gets, even if his heart is surging with some sort of strange and thoughtless hint at happiness that he's never experienced before.]
Good morning, [he says after a while, his mouth in a smile, tracing Kaveh's shoulder with a fingertip.]
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(His own face is a jumble, mixed emotions and feelings, the clench of his heart tells him he knows his answer when he believes completely he does not, the staccato of his breath is short and sweet against sweated skin as he sighs and sighs and sighs.) ]
Good morning, [ he whispers back, and his heart trembles with both fullness and fear. ]
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laughs, a bright and genuine noise even as his hands come up to Alhaitham's chest, push at him slightly. ]
Oh, my God. You're incorrigible. Get the guy and the coffee, huh...
[ He's acting offended, but there's a smile on his face and in his voice that gives the game away before he can really pretend otherwise, and he laughs as he leans up, presses a sweet kiss to Alhaitham's mouth before using his leverage on the other's chest to push himself just slightly away, turning for his phone.
The chime sounds at the same time as he picks it up, and there's another laugh, a half-started statement on his lips about perfect timing, but as crimson eyes fall on the short, urgent message on the screen, they widen and he fumbles the phone in his grip, dropping it momentarily onto the mess of sheets between them.
It bounces from the bed onto the floor. Kaveh's eyes, wide, settle on Alhaitham's face. ]
We have to go.
[ His mother is in labor. ]
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Only for Kaveh's back to tense under his lips; at first, Alhaitham thinks he has found a ticklish part. But quickly he sees the phone fumbling and falling, and he looks up to find Kaveh's eyes panicking, fear and excitement and anxiousness all at once.
He crawls up and kisses him quickly, rolling the both of them up and off the bed and patting Kaveh's behind to the bathroom.] Go, I'll clean the room first.
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But then Nadia is born and he realizes he never should have worried at all, because Kaveh's not sure he's ever loved anyone as much as he loves her.
He spends the rest of the day at the hospital, and most of the day after too, seeing Alhaitham when he can and checking in when he can't. His mother is still too tired for guests outside Nadia's father and brother, and Kaveh's small greetings and messages are apologetic, the blonde feeling no small measure of guilt over having dragged the other man all the way to another country just to abandon him in the hotel.
On the third day, though, Faranak asks Kaveh to bring Alhaitham to the hospital with him. Something about Alhaitham being an "important friend" of her son's, something Kaveh doesn't pass on because despite their distance, his mother knows him far too well and it's embarrassing. But he does bring the other with him as requested, and before long they're stepping together into Faranak's room, Kaveh holding a fresh bouquet of flowers.
The woman in question is sitting up in bed, bright and smiling as she greets them, and no sooner does she see Alhaitham than an offer is made:
"Would you like to hold her?" ]
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Now, stepping into Faranak’s hospital room with Kaveh beside him, he’s greeted with the bright smile of Kaveh’s mother, her face a mix of exhaustion and joy. The room is softly lit, the air hushed as though the space itself is aware of the preciousness it holds. Alhaitham feels a certain reverence in his movements, keeping his voice quiet and his gestures gentle, making sure not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. He is courteous towards Faranak, offering a polite nod as he steps in beside Kaveh, who carries a fresh bouquet.]
Congratulations. [He speaks softly, his eyes taking in the quiet scene before him—Nadia, a small bundle of life swaddled in a pale blanket beside her mother, fast asleep.
When Faranak asks if Alhaitham wants to hold Nadia, his eyes dart immediately to Kaveh. He searches his face, silently asking for permission. Despite their closeness, this is still a delicate moment—a family moment—and Alhaitham wants to ensure Kaveh is okay with him stepping into such an intimate role.
Kaveh gives a small nod, and Alhaitham returns his attention to Faranak, his expression soft but composed as he accepts the offer. He approaches the bed, moving carefully as he crouches slightly to gently lift the tiny bundle of blankets. With all the knowledge he has accumulated from reading various books on child-rearing, he instinctively cradles the newborn in the crook of his arm, supporting her head with practiced ease. His movements are slow, deliberate—he is determined to hold her as carefully as possible.
As Nadia stirs slightly in his arms, her tiny face scrunches before her scarlet eyes, the same shade as Kaveh’s and Faranak’s, blink open. They’re foggy, as newborns’ eyes tend to be, but they fixate upwards, right at him, her curiosity as palpable as her smallness. For a moment, Alhaitham freezes. Nadia’s eyes, though foggy with newborn innocence, are unmistakably the same shade of red as Kaveh’s and Faranak’s. It strikes him, how powerful and vibrant that color is, even in its softness. Alhaitham feels something stir deep within him, an unexpected warmth blossoming in his chest. He’s instantly smitten, mesmerized by how fragile and yet how alive she is.
Alhaitham’s breath catches as her gaze—unfocused, yet curious—settles on him. Her tiny body feels impossibly delicate in his arms, her small chest rising and falling in quiet, rhythmic breaths. And yet, she is already so alive, so intent on the shapes and lights around her, though her little eyes can’t fully comprehend them yet.
Her soft, downy hair barely dusts her head, and Alhaitham can’t help but lean in just slightly to inhale the faint scent of her. She smells like a newborn—clean, sweet, and somehow innocent in a way that is hard to describe.
With the utmost care, Alhaitham walks towards the window, cradling Nadia in his arms. The soft glow of the city beyond catches her attention, her tiny head turning slightly as if she’s drawn to the colors and lights, even though her eyes can’t quite make sense of them yet. Alhaitham watches as her gaze, though unfocused, follows the movements outside with a kind of rapt attention.
He adjusts the little collar of her bib with a gentle finger, and as he does, Nadia’s tiny hand reaches up, her fingers curling around his finger. The grip is soft but surprisingly strong for someone so small, and Alhaitham’s heart melts instantly. He’s not one to be easily swayed by sentimentality, but there’s something undeniably powerful about this tiny life wrapped in his arms, so curious and full of potential.
Alhaitham feels something in his chest tighten and melt all at once.]
How strong you are already, [he whispers softly, his voice filled with a kind of awe that rarely colors his words. His eyes never leave her, completely absorbed by the tiny life in his arms.]
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At first, it's with a strange sense of older brother's protectiveness: he trusts Alhaitham, of course, but has he ever held a baby before? But within moments of the younger man gathering his sister into his arms, that protectiveness fades, replaced by a feeling in his stomach Kaveh can't quite understand.
It's the look on Alhaitham's face, surprised and yet so deeply fond, as Nadia's eyes open to meet his. It's the way he leans in ever-so-slightly to breathe in the faint scent that is so undeniably her. It's the care with which he walks to the window, showing her scenes she can't yet comprehend. It's the soft, whispered awe in his voice when Kaveh's sister takes his finger in her small hand, answering his readjustment of her clothing.
And Kaveh—
Kaveh feels his mother's hand on his, gentle even as it squeezes, pulling his attention away from the man at the window. Crimson eyes meet crimson, and the smile on her face is one of knowing affection, one of knowing the answer before he has even fully accepted it himself.
But she's right, and it's true, and he's in love, he realizes. He's in love, and he has been for a while now.
Faranak smiles, and Kaveh smiles back, something tremulous even as he nods. Tears threaten to well in his eyes, but he fights them back, instead sets about quietly putting the flowers he brought in a vase, propping up his mother's pillows even as she tuts at him and tells him to stop fussing.
But the whole time, his attention remains on Alhaitham, and the love in those emerald eyes. ]
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He had never been a part of something like this before, and now, standing here, a part of Kaveh's world, he realizes just how wonderful it feels. How fulfilling it is to be here, holding Kaveh’s sister, sharing in this monumental moment of his life. There’s a quiet joy that bubbles up in his chest, a deep satisfaction that feels like it’s settling into his bones.]
You’re incredible already, [he whispers again, his voice full of wonder as he gently adjusts Nadia’s swaddle once more. The small life in his arms stirs slightly, her head tilting just enough to rest against his chest, and for a fleeting second, Alhaitham feels like he's protecting something far more precious than anything he's ever held.
And then he feels it—the subtle shift in the room. He glances up, his eyes meeting Kaveh’s from across the space, and for a brief moment, the world seems to stop. The hospital room, the city outside, the past few days—all of it fades away as those familiar crimson eyes, so full of warmth and something deeper, lock onto his. Alhaitham can see it. In that moment, everything feels right. He feels a part of this, a part of something bigger than himself, and the warmth that fills him is overwhelming in its simplicity.
Alhaitham smiles—soft, genuine, a rare expression that is usually reserved for only the most precious of moments.
He turns, carefully making his way back to the bedside where Faranak is waiting. With the same gentleness he had when he first took Nadia, Alhaitham returns the baby to her mother, cradling her small body as though handling the most delicate treasure.]
She’s wonderful, [he says softly, his voice filled with quiet reverence. He straightens slightly, watching as Faranak takes her daughter back, and there’s a sense of completeness in the air, a quiet acknowledgment that something beautiful has just been shared between them all.]
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Coppered eyes glance up, and a moment stretches into eternity as viridian meets carmine. In that moment, they both know. Everything is as it's meant to be. Outside of it, later, the words must still be spoken. But right now—
Kaveh can only watch as Alhaitham moves back to the bed, returns daughter to mother, and perhaps he should hold his own baby sister for a while, but Faranak sees moments that even now he fails to parse, yawns as she hugs her daughter close before placing her in the crib at her side. She's tired, she tells them, she's sorry for having them come so far for so short a visit, but perhaps they can return a little later in the day, if they're so inclined?
The words see them out of the hospital once more, a meaningful look offered to her son, who even now fiddles with his phone, a frown on his expression as his brain tries to catch up to the head-start his heart has so suddenly taken. ]
Should we... go back to the hotel to eat? And I guess we can figure out if we wanna do anything after that...?
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Kaveh’s suggestion of going back to the hotel feels like a welcome reprieve from the emotional intensity of the hospital. Alhaitham smiles softly, slipping his hand onto Kaveh’s shoulder in a gesture of reassurance.]
That sounds good. [There's an undercurrent of affection that slips through as he speaks.] Let’s head back, eat something, and take it slow.
[He’s grateful for the space to breathe, the quiet between them not awkward but simply reflective, as they make their way back to the hotel. The streets of Fontaine bustle around them, but for once, Alhaitham isn’t paying attention to the architecture or the intricacies of the city. His thoughts remain fixed on the way Kaveh had watched him with Nadia, the look they shared, the quiet between them that seemed to settle deeper than words ever could.
They reach the hotel, and as they step inside the familiar warmth of their room, Alhaitham finally lets out a soft sigh. He glances over at Kaveh, and for a moment, it’s just the two of them again, away from the hospital, the family, the expectations. He moves toward the small sitting area, the gentle glow of the city still casting shadows across the room as he sets his things down.]
What do you feel like eating? Something light? Or should we indulge a little more after the day we’ve had?
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What does he feel like eating—How can Alhaitham even think of food at a time like this? Everything is so different now—
He shakes as he crosses the room, putting his own things down, trembling fingers still clutching tight to his phone as if it's some sort of lifeline.
The answer has been in front of him all along, and yet even now he can't just reach out and take it, not yet. First, he—
No. First: food. He takes a breath. ]
I—
[ He can't decide. How can he decide when his heart and mind are in a shambles like this? Indulgence seems to be the letter of the day, but what if he speaks up and everything comes crumbling down around him like it was made from the beginning of glass? What if, after all of this, nothing plays out the way he imagines it would? He feels ill with unease, so maybe something light is smarter after all, just in case...
His fingers grip tighter around his phone, and he looks up at Alhaitham, expression troubled. ]
I—I think I need to talk to Euler.
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Trembling fingers grip his phone tightly—too tightly. The tension in Kaveh's body laps at Alhaitham's skin, and for a moment, his heart sinks. The quiet certainty he had felt in the hospital, that shared look—it all feels it’s slipping through his fingers like sand.
Perhaps he had misread everything.
Perhaps he had misread all of it. Granted, he needed to reciprocation—he made that very clear, Kaveh does not have to reciprocate the feelings and the affection he wants to place upon him.
And yet, the warmth and connection he’d felt, the peace in holding Nadia, the shared look with Kaveh, the moment of quiet what he thought was love—it all feels wrong, misplaced. Had Kaveh been imagining someone else? Had he been thinking of Euler, of someone who wasn’t standing there with him, holding his baby sister, sharing that intimate moment with his family? Maybe that look between them hadn’t been an affirmation at all, but rather Kaveh’s longing for Euler to be there in Alhaitham’s place.
The thought twists something deep inside him, something that feels suspiciously like hurt. Alhaitham thought he had been enough—he thought he had been the person Kaveh wanted to be there with him. But now, the doubt creeps in, and it’s insidious. The very idea that Kaveh had been wanting someone else all along, that all of this—the affection, the closeness—wasn’t meant for him but for the version of himself he had created as Euler...
He swallows hard, his hand pausing where it had been reaching out to brush Kaveh’s shoulder. The movement stalls, hovers, and then falls onto the shoulder nonetheless, concerned.]
I see. [He doesn’t want to make this about himself, doesn’t want to burden Kaveh with his own emotions when Kaveh is struggling. But still, it lingers, a quiet ache that twists in his chest.
Maybe Kaveh’s heart was with Euler all along.
Alhaitham clears his throat softly, his eyes flicking toward the window, the city lights casting long shadows across the room.]
Do you want me to give you some space?
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But Alhaitham's hand flutters, he speaks with hurt in his voice, and as Kaveh looks up at him, confusion writ into his features, he realizes—they weren't singing quite the same melody after all.
Somehow, that only makes things all the more terrifying. Naturally, the whole thing makes him want to start running all over again, to never look back—
But he also knows, deep down, that there's no running from this. Not anymore.
He takes a breath, shakes his head—slow. Thoughtful. ]
That's not what I mean.
[ His voice is shaky with nerves, and yet strong with certainty, and he steps forward, turns, places himself between Alhaitham and the window, taking up as much as he can of the other's view. ]
I just... I need to talk to him, because—because things have changed for me, and I think he deserves to know.
[ It's a change that's been happening, little by little, for a while—even longer than he realized. But he sees it now, clear as the bright look in Nadia's eyes when she took Alhaitham's finger in her little hand. And now that he sees it, he has to honor it. Because— ]
I want it to be you, Alhaitham.
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