Work Text:
Kaveh’s behavior has been odd lately.
Not that that’s not Kaveh’s own normal. His mood can vary by the hour, bewitched by a new draft and sullen the moment he realizes a fatal flaw in its core design. He picks himself back up quickly, and the cycle repeats itself time and time again — though this time around, there’s a lingering distress to him, one that does not alleviate itself with Kaveh’s usual rhythm of fluctuating composure.
Kaveh hasn’t mentioned any particularly difficult clients lately, nor any notable events weighing down on him, but Alhaitham senses the odd shift regardless. It’s the way that he holds himself, mouth downturned, back hunched over his papers as if to make himself disappear. It’s his strange dodgings of Alhaitham’s presence, the way that he flees the room when he sees Alhaitham approaching. His temper has been even more irritable and volatile than it usually presents, and Alhaitham notices him snapping much faster than he usually estimates it would take him to reach the point of such.
The most peculiar aspect of Kaveh’s new behavior is that he’s flinching. Whenever Alhaitham’s fingers brush against Kaveh’s with the passing of an object, or when he’s sneaking by him in a doorway, Kaveh jolts like the touch has burned him. Brief physical touch has never been an issue prior, and Alhaitham even recalls instances where Kaveh actively sought it out; running a hand along his back while passing through the kitchen or allowing his head to rest on Alhaitham’s shoulder after poring over a draft on the couch.
When they were still Akademiya students, it was even more common — the grasp of a hand to rush to class, a nap against one another betwixt the aisles of thick academic tomes in the library. Alhaitham would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss the times when Kaveh allowed touch openly, and even expressed his own desire for it.
And even when Kaveh went through bouts of anger or upset, he was never skittish. If anything, he craved more of that closeness, the comfort that Alhaitham desperately wishes to provide to him.
Now more than ever.
Alhaitham watches Kaveh stumble into the house, keys jingling as they hit the dish on the small table near the door. He hears Kaveh huff quietly as he toes off his shoes before Mehrak floats by, face glowing into a smile. Kaveh pads softly into the space, footsteps silent as he walks past Alhaitham.
“I made dinner,” Alhaitham says, looking up from his book from where he sits in the living room. “It’s waiting on the counter, if you’d like it.”
“Oh,” Kaveh replies, blinking. He stops walking to face Alhaitham. “That’s— that’s very kind of you. I’ve, um, I’ve got some drafts to finish up, unfortunately. Busy time with work lately. But, I might heat it up later, so, thank you anyway.”
Kaveh quickly turns away from Alhaitham to scurry over to his bedroom. A moment after, Alhaitham wishes he could ignore the aching pain that begins to bloom in his chest; a wound reopening that he thought had scarred over. This is the third time that week that Kaveh has turned down dinner. Alhaitham’s not sure if he’s just been picking up Lambad’s every evening after work, or if he’s got food stashed away in his room. But Alhaitham can’t help but feel like his attempts at extending a branch out to Kaveh are failing once again, mimicking the first few weeks after Kaveh had moved in.
Kaveh had absolutely been skittish then. He tried to stay out of the house as often as possible, not wanting to take up room and be — what Alhaitham assumes is — a burden. It was as if Alhaitham was trying to tame a stray cat; an animal that had only known hurt for so many years that it didn’t know how to trust any kindness.
At least back then, Alhaitham could pinpoint exactly why Kaveh was behaving the way that he did. He knew exactly what caused it and had Kaveh figured out enough that he had a good idea on how to fix it. And it worked, back then. But now, Alhaitham has nothing. No reasons as to why Kaveh’s behavior is so strange.
But still. If anyone could crack the mystery that is Kaveh, it would be Alhaitham.
Sighing, Alhaitham stands up after resting his book on the table. He walks over to Kaveh’s room, knocking on the door gently.
After a few moments of shuffling, Kaveh opens the door, He had taken out his hairclips in the short time he’d been in there, the long brown ends fluffed out and untamed.
“Do you need something?” Kaveh asks. Nothing in the tone of his voice signaled that anything was bothering him, though Alhaitham wasn’t fully convinced. He eyed Kaveh up and down, focusing namely on the tight, tense muscles of his shoulders and the closed-off posture of his crossed arms.
“I need you to tell me what’s going on with you,” Alhaitham says. “Why aren’t you eating dinner?”
Kaveh scoffs, brows pulling together. “I’m fine. I told you I’ve been busy. I’ll eat later, I’m not really hungry.” He leans against his doorframe awkwardly, fidgeting with the end of his shirt.
Alhaitham sighs. He knew that wasn’t true. Kaveh’s routine for the past two years was that every day, when he would get home at just about six in the evening, he would be ready for dinner by then. Sometimes Kaveh would cook, sometimes Alhaitham would, and sometimes he’d bug Alhaitham to go out to Lambad’s for the night.
But he would never not eat, and much less never avoid the conversation about it entirely.
“We both know that’s not true,” Alhaitham replies. “And I’d like to know why you’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you!” Kaveh argues. “I’ve just been busy! How many times do I need to tell you this to get it into your thick skull!”
Alhaitham tries not to huff frustratedly. He crosses his arms, shifting his weight as he eyes Kaveh through his doorway.
“I won’t push if you really don’t want to tell me. But your behavior has been affecting my schedule, and therefore my life, and since it is bothering me, I’m taking action on it. So unless you can figure it out yourself and go back to how you normally behave, neither of us are going to be happy.”
Kaveh rolls his eyes, mimicking Alhaitham’s stance. “Oh, your precious schedule. In what way does me skipping dinner affect you so greatly?”
Alhaitham’s eye twitches. “We always have dinner together. You or I make it, or we go out. But it’s always together. And we haven’t been doing that.”
“Oh do you miss me or something?” Kaveh teases.
Yes, Alhaitham holds back.
“It’s not that,” Alhaitham grunts. “I have a schedule for my evenings. That schedule just happens to involve you, and now that you’ve changed it without any reason or explanation that I can extrapolate given your unpredictable behavior, I’m forced to take action.”
Alhaitham goes to lean his hand on Kaveh’s doorframe, but the moment his fingers brush against Kaveh’s, Kaveh wrenches his hand away, the touch burning him.
Alhaitham blinks.
“Kaveh, have I done something?”
“What?” Kaveh says, laughing humorlessly. “I mean, when have you not done something.”
“You know that’s not what I’m asking you,” Alhaitham presses.
Kaveh groans. “I— I’m fine, Alhaitham, I just— work has been a bit stressful lately, that’s all. It’s not you.”
Alhaitham’s not convinced. “Then why did you react like that when I touched you?”
Kaveh’s eyes widen, mouth pressing into a thin line. Alhaitham hadn’t even assumed Kaveh was hiding anything big, but Kaveh’s face tells a different story.
“It’s nothing,” Kaveh says. “I’m just stressed. That’s all there is.”
Alhaitham bites his lip. He knows that’s not the full truth.
“Could you please leave me alone, for the evening?”
And Kaveh says it so earnestly that the wound festering in Alhaitham’s chest tears open, pried apart by claws, salt laid over the cuts and burns that never fully healed.
Alhaitham nods solemnly and walks away from Kaveh’s door.
It’s not until he’s several paces away that he finally hears Kaveh’s door click shut.
At the very least, Alhaitham now has new information to use in his pursuit of figuring out Kaveh: Touch.
Alhaitham doesn’t really know why he’s flagged Kaveh’s reaction as something so odd. Kaveh’s always been a bit jumpy, flinching when he’s tapped on the shoulder or at the unexpected knock of a door. So it very well could just be that he hadn’t expected Alhaitham to touch him.
But Alhaitham knows that that’s not all there is. It’s the way Kaveh looked afterwards.
Kaveh looked like he had been caught. Caught doing what, Alhaitham has yet to figure out. But it was nothing short of odd that Kaveh’s eyes had widened when he was questioned, like Alhaitham had asked something he was adamant not to answer.
Now, despite popular belief from a certain someone, Alhaitham derives no joy from tormenting his roommate. Such quarrels happen inevitably, and Alhaitham admits that sometimes he pushes when he knows it’s smarter to not, but nothing he does ever comes about maliciously, and Alhaitham hopes that Kaveh knows him well enough to have gathered that much about him over the years.
So, paradoxically, Alhaitham is going to torment Kaveh.
By torment he means nothing of violence or anything he deems pointless. This torment is targeted specifically to the newfound discovery of Kaveh’s aversion to touch. Gathering data, if you will.
So, Alhaitham’s begun touching Kaveh purposefully. Only in very slight ways, nothing too aggressive or obvious enough that Kaveh would catch wind of his intentions.
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham calls one afternoon in their study. “Could you pass me that pen?”
Kaveh grunts as he sits up from his desk, picking up the pen. “Too lazy to get it yourself, huh?”
As Kaveh reaches over to pass it to him, Alhaitham runs his fingers along Kaveh’s hand as the pen is exchanged.
Kaveh quickly pulls his hand away, face twisting slightly as it happens. Alhaitham had somewhat expected this, but the aching feeling in him still doesn’t cease.
Kaveh says nothing afterwards, sitting back down at his desk. If he seems more tense than he was before, Alhaitham says nothing of it.
He needs more data, Alhaitham decides.
His next attempt was more obvious. A little too much so for Alhaitham’s own tastes, if he was being honest, but it was for the sake of knowledge. So. It was acceptable.
Kaveh had dragged Alhaitham out to the Grand Bazaar to pick up groceries — the Bazaar was bustling as always, especially midday on a weekend, Alhaitham’s least favorite time to go — but Kaveh liked the energy of it at busy times, and said he got better deals when he went at peak hours, so Alhaitham conceded.
A group of children came running down the path, seemingly unattended by adults — regardless, they were a nuisance, getting into people’s ways like cats always seemingly underfoot, weaving their way around to cause a mess. Alhaitham watched as one particularly rowdy child came bounding Kaveh’s way, and so for the sake of preventing Kaveh from being knocked over —
Alhaitham puts a hand on Kaveh’s back, pulling him out of the middle of the path.
In doing so, Alhaitham’s fingers touch the open bit of skin on Kaveh’s back where the fabric of his shirt opened up to a window. He was warm, so warm, and Alhaitham feels goosebumps prickle up on Kaveh’s skin at the touch.
Kaveh stills for a moment, keeping his composure long enough to allow the children to pass. It wasn’t until Alhaitham began to feel Kaveh arch away from his touch that he removed his hand.
“Sorry,” Alhaitham mutters. “I didn’t want them to run into you.”
Kaveh chuckles. “I can’t remember the last time I heard you apologize.” He looks at Alhaitham, amused. “You’re fine, Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham pauses. “I know you don’t like it when I touch you. So, that’s why I apologized.”
Kaveh looks at Alhaitham with an odd expression that he couldn’t place. He watches as Kaveh bites his lip before averting his eyes from Alhaitham, staring at a faraway vendor.
“It’s alright,” Kaveh says quietly. “Don’t worry about it.”
And Alhaitham’s left with a strange feeling as Kaveh continues on their shopping trip as if nothing had happened.
He supposes that if Kaveh’s not concerning himself with the touch this time, he shouldn’t be either.
The next opportunity that arises for Alhaitham to touch Kaveh is, oddly enough, one that Kaveh imitates himself.
Alhaitham knows that Kaveh has trying to cut down on his drinking — he really has been making a good effort, so it’s been a long while since he’s seen Kaveh get drunk. Tonight, however, a rarely-seen Genius Invokation TCG win has Kaveh feeling celebratory — which in turn, means a round of drinks.
Alhaitham slowly nurses his own glass of wine, only interested in taking a few sips. Though, of course, he watches Kaveh inch closer to himself, eventually stealing his glass and drinking to the point that a soft flush blooms on his face, and his words don’t come out as clearly as they usually do.
“Alhaitham,” Kaveh drawls quietly, tilting his head as it rests on his fist. Cyno and Tighnari are engaged in some matter between them; Alhaitham thinks he overhears some discussion of Collei’s studies. “Why don’t you touch me?”
Alhaitham blinks. He wasn’t expected to be asked about this, of all things.
“Because… you don’t like being touched?” Alhaitham supplies.
“But I do,” Kaveh whines. “And you never touch me. And when you do, you get weird about it.”
Alhaitham’s eyebrows furrow. This goes against everything he had gathered from his observations of Kaveh’s behavior. “You always pull away when I touch you. What else am I supposed to conclude other than that you don’t enjoy it?”
Kaveh groans. “No. You got it wrong. I like it when you touch me. I like it too much,” he hiccups. “So I can’t let you touch me, or else I’ll keep wanting it.”
Alhaitham swallows. With an admittedly shocking lack of foresight, this was not a reason he had ever considered.
“And what’s wrong with wanting it?” Alhaitham asks cautiously.
Alhaitham knows that Kaveh is drunk given the littering of empty glasses across the table, but the way he contemplates the question makes him worry he’s secretly sober. Kaveh’s eyebrows furrow in deep thought as he puts together the words.
“Because I can’t ask that much of you,” Kaveh answers. His words slur, but only slightly. “I would just keep craving it. I would crave it so much that I worry I wouldn’t be able to resist it. And that’s not something I can ask of you.”
Beneath the table, Alhaitham reaches out a careful hand to where Kaveh’s lay on his thigh. He knows it’s risky, but he does so anyway.
“You can ask that of me,” Alhaitham says quietly. “I’m not going to turn you away.”
The flush on Kaveh’s cheeks burns brighter. Alhaitham feels Kaveh’s hand twitch in his grasp.
“You can’t promise that,” Kaveh chuckles humorlessly. “What will you do when I keep wanting more of you, taking more of you for myself?” His smile falls. “I’m greedy, Alhaitham. I don’t want you to become a victim of that.”
Alhaitham’s heart aches, the wound pulling and ripping at the seams; the stitches coming undone. “Don’t worry about that. Just do what you’d like, Kaveh.”
Kaveh looks at Alhaitham for a few moments. His gaze is still hazy under the influence of alcohol, hair slightly mussed and cheeks still flushed.
“Could I… could I lay against you?”
Alhaitham swallows thickly. “Go right ahead.”
Alhaitham feels a weight at his side as Kaveh moves. Kaveh’s leaned over against Alhaitham, head resting on his shoulder. Every point of contact burns, and for once, Alhaitham thinks he understands how Kaveh’s must’ve felt each time their hands met.
As Cyno and Tighnari sit across from them, they barely pay the sight any mind, funnily enough. It feels natural, normal, to have Kaveh against him like this. Kaveh slots against him, puzzle-pieced together, fitting into place like he’s meant to be there.
He is.
“Is this okay?” Kaveh asks quietly.
“Yes,” Alhaitham says. “Don’t worry.”
Between them, Kaveh’s hand sits inside Alhaitham’s grasp, warm and a bit clammy. Regardless, it feels as right as Alhaitham imagined; Kaveh filling in the space against him perfectly.
Alhaitham likes that Kaveh is greedy for him. He hopes that he seeks out Alhaitham’s touch whenever the thought strikes him, Alhaitham allowing his touch freely for whenever Kaveh desires it. It’s close enough to how they behaved as students — only now, a different weight hangs between the touch, implications deeper than when they were young.
It was easy, then, to touch. Alhaitham thinks it could be easy now, if Kaveh wanted it to be.
Though, the only issue is convincing Kaveh of this when he’s sober.
Alhaitham hears a groan come from Kaveh’s bedroom. To everyone’s surprise, he’s hungover.
Alhaitham knocks on the door gently, carrying a glass of water and a painkiller. After a few seconds, Alhaitham lets himself in.
Kaveh looks frazzled, hair a mess and clothes from last night still on his body. Alhaitham had considered undressing him the night prior and putting him to bed properly, but given what desires Kaveh had confessed while inebriated, it felt like a violation to indulge Kaveh while he was as drunk as he had gotten.
Alhaitham walks over, passing him the glass of water.
His fingers don’t touch Kaveh’s.
“Thank you,” Kaveh grunts, downing the glass with the pill. “Archons, how wasted did I get last night?” His voice is rough as he runs his fingers through his tangled hair. Alhaitham fights back to urge to help, fingers twitching at the thought of clipping those signature red hairclips in.
“You won a game of Genius Invokation TCG, even managing to beat Cyno,” Alhaitham reminds him. “You felt that to be deserving of quite the celebration.”
Kaveh chuckles. “Seems so.”
Alhaitham stands there awkwardly for a few moments. He’s not sure how much of last night Kaveh remembers, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little afraid to find out. While Kaveh had initiated his little confession, Alhaitham partook as well, laying himself awfully bare for a sober man.
Kaveh swallows another sip of water, slender and slightly manicured fingers tapping against the glass idly.
“Um— so, about last night,” Kaveh begins.
Ah, so it seems he does remember.
Kaveh averts his gaze from Alhaitham. “It’s a bit fuzzy, but I— I remember what I told you. And what I did.” Alhaitham watches as Kaveh fidgets with the blankets bunched up on his bed. “I’m sorry. It was stupid, everything I was saying. You can just— you can forget about it.”
Alhaitham hesitates.
“It’s not stupid,” he says. He watches as Kaveh raises his head again, looking at him. “You can ask for what you want, Kaveh. You don’t have to pull away out of fear of wanting more.”
“But we don’t—” Kaveh bites his lip. “We don’t do this. We don’t touch, like that.”
We could do this.
Shaking the thought away, Alhaitham’s brows pull together. “Touch in what way?”
“Like how I want to,” Kaveh mutters.
Alhaitham sighs. “That’s not particularly descriptive. Could you clarify at all?”
Kaveh groans. “You’re really going to make me spit it out, aren’t you?”
Alhaitham nods.
“Okay,” Kaveh sighs. “I— I wish we could be like how we used to be, when we were students. Like, holding hands, cuddling, those sorts of things.” Kaveh swallows. “I know… I know things are different now, so I’m not expecting you to agree to it. But, you asked. So that’s what I’d like.”
That’s what I’d like.
Alhaitham supposes that that’s what he’d like, too. He thinks he’s known that for a while now.
“That’s okay,” Alhaitham says. “I’m okay with that.”
Kaveh’s head jolts up. “You are?”
Alhaitham shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I be? You said it yourself. Back during our student days, I was fine with that kind of touch,” he points out. “Why wouldn’t I be now?”
Kaveh fidgets. “I mean, things have changed — I didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume you were okay with everything you used to be okay with,” he shrugs. “Things changed. You changed.”
Alhaitham chuckles gently. “I changed less than you think I did.”
“I suppose so,” Kaveh says as a soft smile crosses over his face.
Alhaitham looks over the figure of Kaveh in his bed, still posed protectively as he clutches his covers. Despite Alhaitham's assurance, he’s still tense. In honesty, Alhaitham can’t blame him.
Breaking the silence, Alhaitham speaks. “Are you going to make me stand here, or can I get in there with you?”
Kaveh’s eyebrows rocket upwards, face flushing a deep pink. His fingers dig into his blanket. “You— you what?”
Alhaitham gestures his head towards Kaveh, eyeing his bed. “You said you wanted to touch. You mentioned cuddling,” he recalls. “We could do that now, if you wanted. Your bed is surely big enough for two.”
Jaw still dropped, Kaveh can’t help but chuckle. “Did I really sound that urgent?”
He really didn’t, not particularly so, at least — but that doesn’t mean Alhaitham isn’t urgent about it himself.
“Doesn’t matter,” he concludes. “No better time than now. Are you letting me in or not?”
Kaveh laughs, shaking his head fondly. “Alright, alright, get in here.” He pulls open the covers, waving his hand invitingly.
Alhaitham slides in beside him, resting his head against a pillow that smells sickeningly of Kaveh; the floral scent of his shampoo wrapping around him and making his heart clench at how close he gets to be. Alhaitham feels an arm come over his side, pulling him closer, fingers grasping at his shirt.
He thinks he understands why Kaveh craved this so badly, and why he was so scared of allowing himself to want it — it’s awfully addicting, the feeling of having Kaveh at his side, the scent and warmth of him permeating throughout. Alhaitham feels himself unwind, allowing his muscles to relax as he feels Kaveh grip him impossibly closer.
It was Kaveh who expressed his desire for touch, but maybe Alhaitham needed it just as much as he did.
“This is nice,” Alhaitham comments.
Kaveh chuckles. “Astute observation. I’d expect nothing less from you.”
“I’m serious,” Alhaitham says. “I see why you wanted this, now.”
“Oh, it took you some real-world experience to recognize that humans need contact with each other to remain healthy?” Kaveh scoffs. “I’m surprised you never picked that up from a book.”
“The last time I was held was when my grandmother was still alive.”
Oh.
Kaveh stills. “I’m sorry. I should have remembered that.”
“It’s fine,” Alhaitham says. “I was too cowardly to voice what I wanted as well.”
Kaveh chuckles lightly. “And… I’m sorry about the way I’ve been treating you due to my own cowardice — I realized how badly I wanted this myself, and I wasn’t really sure what to do about it.”
Alhaitham strokes a hand over Kaveh’s hair. “Me neither.”
“Two of the brightest minds in Sumeru, unable to voice a simple request to each other. We’re quite silly sometimes, to be honest.”
“Brightest minds? You do have quite a lot of confidence, don’t you.”
Kaveh slaps him teasingly. “I included you in that statement, as well. Don’t be dense.”
“I wasn’t arguing with you,” Alhaitham says. “But you more than anyone would know that emotional intelligence is distinct from academic intelligence.”
“Oh, quit it,” Kaveh groans. “I’ve had it with you.”
Kaveh snuggles closer.
“Sure doesn’t seem like it.”
Kaveh slaps him once again. “Shut up.”
As Kaveh nuzzles into him and Alhaitham brushes slow, gentle strokes through Kaveh’s hair, Alhaitham feels a buzzing warmth in him that he hasn’t felt for a long, long time.
He thinks he could get used to this.