Chapter Text
It’s more of a dignity issue, now.
Kaveh looks at Alhaitham with a scowl. The other man stares back flatly. His silver hair covers one side of his face just enough to hide one of his eyes. Just enough to cut down half of the “why are you even here” radiating from Alhaitham. Unfortunately, that vibe was too powerful to begin with, so the hair didn’t really help much.
The chatter from the other people in the tavern is rather loud. Kaveh can distinctly hear a few scholars arguing over the objectivity of knowledge in natural sciences when considering the influence of astrology, which he finds quite meaningless. The light filters through the mosaic cells on the windows, lighting up the green tiled walls with a warm fluorescent glow.
Part of that light falls onto Alhaitham’s face. It cuts across one side of his face, lighting up the teal eye while enveloping the other side in shadows. One side looks like it was bathed in heavenly light, while the other side looks downright evil.
Kaveh thinks that this image perfectly fits Alhaitham’s true self.
The person in question sips his drink, then puts it down.
“No.”
Kaveh throws his hands up. “It’s nothing hard to do! Just be a bit more expressive, that’s all!”
Alhaitham crosses his arms. “I don’t see why I have to make more sounds during sex. It’s a waste of energy and harms my throat. I see no need.”
A passing waitress coughs loudly immediately after Alhaitham said “sex”.
“No-!” Kaveh splutters. “That’s not what I said!”
Alhaitham looks at him, unimpressed.
Kaveh’s arms begin to wave around. “It’s not about making sounds! It’s about the show of love! It’s about passion!”
Alhaitham shifts slightly with disdain. “That’s a ridiculous way of showing passion. Besides, you’re not that good.”
“‘Haitham!” Kaveh gasps, half dramatically and half offended. “You can’t say that to me!”
It’s amazing how flat Alhaitham’s voice can be when insulting his... “bed skills”. “I suppose I can’t blame you for it. You did once cry over your virginity when you just moved in.”
“I did not!”
Internally, Kaveh flips through his memories. He couldn’t have possibly told anyone, even his dear junior, about this issue of pride, did he?
“You did. You were drunk. I have a recording,” Alhaitham says flatly as his Akasha system flickers to life. “Would you like me to share it?”
Kaveh half-lunges for Alhaitham’s raising hand, grabbing the calloused fingers of the Scribe. The tavern has quieted down a while ago, making the coughs of a certain waitress even louder than before.
Alhaitham looks at the golden-haired man, the bristling lion cooling down in an instant. He allows his hand to be lifted, and Kaveh smoothly presses a light kiss on his knuckles. Red eyes raise to meet his own, and he can clearly see the sheer “passion” that Kaveh always rants about in them.
“I am deeply sorry. Please forgive my insolence.”
Alhaitham bats his hand away without blinking an eye. “Very sincere.” He picks up his cup but doesn’t drink. “So to answer your question, I’m not interested in playing pretend.” Then he drinks.
Kaveh wilts. “Fine, fine. I’m not giving up though!”
Alhaitham shrugs, which clearly means "whatever."
Damned Haravatat. With a newfound sense of vengeance, Kaveh calls the waitress, who apparently is suffering from a coughing fit, to order a very expensive bottle of wine.
“Are you sure you’re fine?” He asks the waitresses in concern once he's done. Her face is very red right now, and she seems to be wheezing. “Do I need to call for help?”
The woman coughs again. “I-I’m fine, thank you!” She looks at them with a very twisted expression that even Kaveh’s artistic talents could not evaluate. “That will be ten thousand Mora.”
Kaveh peeks at Alhaitham for a brief second. The man did not react to the price, so Kaveh nods and sends off the waitress. It’s not his Mora, anyways.
Damned rationality. Kaveh thinks with spite. If only Alhaitham's mouth could speak as honestly as his body acts. Maybe he should try getting him drunk.
Later that evening, Kaveh finds his keys missing and has to wait outside their apartment for three hours before Alhaitham returns with a nonexistent smirk that he knows is there.
"Missing me?" the damned man asks, boyfriend or not. Kaveh seethes silently. That's it.
A few days later, Kaveh hunts down a few Amurta students for a detailed diagram of the male anatomy of the reproductive system.
When asked by the students for its purpose, he simply says with a plotting glint in his eyes,
“Retaliation.”