#〢▸ ˢʰᶦᵖ // 🇦🇱🇭🇦🇮🇹🇭🇦🇲 & 🇰🇦🇻🇪🇭

[hancfubuki]

Acting normally towards Kaveh, there was no reason for him to change his behavior. It is pretty obvious by now some things did change, yet at the same time gaining a title is not really a big difference from the previous domestic interactions they had. What did change was him in the morning kissing the top of the blonde’s head before leaving the house. ‘I’ll be back late today’. That’s all he said, starting his way to the Akademiya. He is not going to be far away from home, and in any case Mehrak will always be connected to his earpieces. Still he doesn’t ask for explanations or a detailed list of the activities Kaveh’s going to do through the day. Probably at the Tavern, or drinking with someone. Squints. That’s dangerous, actually. But he is far from over thinking, that’s Kaveh’s job after all.

Routine hasn’t changed that much since that particular day. Work, tavern, home. An usual pattern he accustomed himself to follow strictly during the week-- work days, actually. He couldn’t say his job was tedious, but lately all the applications were so badly written he was starting to get bored, rejecting each one of them after reading only one sentence. That was enough to tell if the person is a good applicant or not, call it experience, or call it laziness. Whichever it was, Alhaitham knows exactly how to handle this burst of horrible apps that appear at certain time of the year. Working late is not usual either. As soon as the clock marks the end of his shift, he completely forgets about anything that is related to work. Unless, something urgent comes to disrupt his perfect and meticulous regime. 

The urgent matter: Lord Kusanali asking for tea. 

Groans. He is not the social type. He is not one for divinities, and in fact, he sees her as just another person. Doesn’t care about her ‘archon’ status, and he is curious about her taking such liking to him after the incident. He sort of saved her, though? So he can understand why she likes him, but the company was not bad at all. It felt like spending the time with your favorite aunt, yes, the closest description he could get for her. She looked like a kid, but perfectly could be his grandma. Ah. Perhaps that’s the reason he is unable to refuse the invitation, another relationship that could cover for the empty space in his heart. 

As always, the gathering goes well. He talked a bit with Nahida, about the applicants, about Kaveh, about subjects that might be considered boring for others. However, all the time he is there, he is thinking about returning home. And the time finally comes, yet again, thankfully he is not far away from home. The sound of the keys clacking in his pocket, this time leaving a copy for Kaveh as he did not feel like taking them, just for today. The door opens, taking a look inside of the room, looking for the blonde’s figure with his eyes. Though, his gaze focuses on the living room. At first glance, everything seems normal, perfect even, casual. Two sets of instruments, two set of plates and two-- no. There are three glasses over the table. This cannot be fully considered suspicious, but they are used to leave two of each item scattered all over the house. It’s only two of them, so seeing an extra glass on the table only means someone was home. Or is. 

Alhaitham frowns lightly, staring carefully at the empty room and trying to see if there’s glances of other people. Taking a quick guess, perhaps the traveler and Paimon are around, but he would know for sure if that little noisy floaty being is around. His tongue clacks against the roof of his mouth. He is not going to dwell on it. Instead, he walks towards the sofa, cape being thrown at the other sofa, shoes messily left next to the furniture. His belt pouch, always full of things. The music device left at the side of his body, taking a book out of it as he comfortably lays down on the sofa. The belt is discarded somewhere on the floor, and then he simply takes off his shirt, tossing it aside. Messy as always. But oh, the comfort of being at home! He knows Kaveh will appear to scold him for leaving everything on the floor. Normal routine. Light perfectly set to a reading mood, eyes focused on the pages of the book he is reading. Today’s subject is philosophy, another book he will probably finish by the end of the week. Who cares, though? He is just waiting for Kaveh to appear and yell at him. Or kiss him as a greeting, whatever comes first. 

@inardescere​ 

[hancfubuki]

Already used to the blonde's low self-esteem and self-conscious behavior, Alhaitham couldn't say that answer was unexpected. He hasn't helped too much to prevent the other from thinking that, constantly teasing him, suggesting in low tones to leave during heated arguments and telling him it's better when the house is empty. But those were nothing more than blatant lies, used as self-defense and useless attempts to push him aside. It's confusing, the way they relate. The further away they are, the closest to each other they want to be. It's been working like that for years, but the scribe is already unsure if they could keep pushing each other for longer, especially when the unspoken, hidden feelings are finally coming afloat after a night of passion. They couldn't keep playing dumb anymore. Though, finally letting out all those feelings trapped on his chest is a relief. Suppressing for so long what he considers useless, coming altogether for this moment.

"Yes. I do think you are an idiot." A heart-warming curvature forming on his lips, not coming in the form of an insult but more like an endearing scolding. "There's no reason for me to kick you out. I own more properties, the ones that used to belong to my grandma. I could have sent you there instead, but I want you here, because I know you can't stand an empty house." Perhaps only Kaveh is aware of hoe considerate Haitham actually is, and still, he is also the only one who fails to see it. Or simply pretends to do so, till this day, Alhaitham is unsure, even though now there's no need for him to question the reason behind it, as they are finally talking what they needed to do a long time ago.

Another kiss, he lets out a sigh. The longer he feels his lips against his, the more he realizes this is really happening. Haitham knows some old memories simply cannot be recreated, instead being this the start of creating some new ones. He is not yearning for the past, instead, he is really wanting to focus on the present and see how this can turn out now that they are adults. Some things never changed, and even if they were different people, glimpses of who they used to be still linger in their personalities. And so far, they have been able to deal with it. Haitham wonders if the arguing will continue, but he has also learnt to take care of his words, the last thing he wants to do is to hurt him again. He hums happily, smiling softly as his eyes close, foreheads pressing together once again, noses nuzzling featherily and leaving a tingling sensation before he feels his hand being grabbed. "I didn't want to rush it, but if you insist." He sounds cocky, nonetheless, he is glad. Pulling him closer into another kiss, longer this time, no need to rush as he mentioned before, tasting the sweetness of Kaveh's lips against his once more, savouring every second and enjoying every movement.

You are the love of my life.

He is aware his own words sound like a proposal. Perhaps they were, or perhaps they weren't formal yet. However, Haitham means it, wanting to live with him until the end of his days, growing old together and never letting him go. Alhaitham is not exactly a dreamer, but there's only one goal in his life, and is to stay with the only person he has ever loved since he could recall.

Haitham feels his body lighter. He gulps, a warm sensation on his chest as teal eyes finally shine in emotion. Suddenly so bossy. And in other circumstances he would have teased him, defying him and telling him he doesn't have to listen to his orders. But right now, he is at his mercy. Willing to do anything he asked for only to get the awaited reward of having his full attention, love and care oncr again. Reminding Haitham how much of a slave he truly was for him. So he limits himself to nod, his own stomach growling upon not having anything to eat in a few hours before waking up. Discussions do leave him hungry and tired, but the diziness previously felt finally dissipating under feelings of happiness and tenderness. Goosebumps on his skin when the lips brush his cheek, light on his gem once again at the point of completely ignoring it, knowing he couldn't stop it unless he hides it. No reason to hide it anymore, no reason to suppress what he feels. He is comfortable enough to let the other know all he has ever done was out of love.

He presses his lips in a thin line, tempted to retort back, but instead, his palm moves to his head, ruffling the golden locks softly and moving closer to place a kiss on his head. "As you wish, senior." He doesn't want to let him just yet, but he prefers to do as he is told to avoid any other sort of confrontation. Better to take advantage of his change of mood. He is happy now, and he doesn't want to disrupt that emotion. "Go lay down, I'll be there soon." And saying so, he returns to the office where the pita and coffee were initially left at.

Minutes pass, realizing how hungry he actually is. Devouring the pita that was carefully prepared for him and enjoying the freshly brewed coffee. An atypical morning, at the same time marking the start or what seemed to be a new cycle. And he is okay with it, a brusque change that was pretty much needed and appreciated. He takes one book from the desk, one he was previously reading the day before the storm. Walking towards Kaveh's room, not knocking on the door and instead entering as if he owned the place. Should they share a bed again? Maybe it is a good idea to look for new bed frames, ah, perhaps an early thought. He should see how it goes. But if his comprehension doesn't fail, they are together again... Right?

Teal eyes look for Kaveh, moving towards the bed and finding a place next to him, purposely laying down in a position that left him as a the small spoon. Only Kaveh knew how much he enjoyed this position, head resting on top of his chest allowing his head to be exposed. If people knew how much the mysterious scribe enjoyed to be pampered. Almost like a cat, looking for attention only when necessary, purring when his head is caressed until he falls asleep. Day off equals lazy day, and if he can be spoiled by the man he loves all day, he is definitely taking this opportunity. "Definitely a perfect day for doing absolutely nothing." Pet him, caress him. Despite being bigger than Kaveh, he wraps his body around him, making sure he fits, curling up next to him. "Although, I'm in the mood to get a new wood carving. One that looks like you, maybe? I bet you'd love that." His bratty mode activated again, tracing imaginary lines on his chest, as fingers sneak beneath the fabric. Warm again, he nuzzles his cheeks against his body, feeling safe, reminiscent of their Akademiya days.

It still feels a little selfish of him.

Yet, Kaveh finds himself smiling a bit wider, softer when Alhaitham reassures him that he's not a burden. Some part of him had already known this, knew that the scribe was willing to spoil him for this and that even if they were sometimes ridiculous. After all, why else would the architect always be so forward and let himself be spoiled rotten and demanding when he hides most of it with others? It was known, but verbal reassurances made his heart warm, but also a little giggly when he thinks about this train of thought. He shouldn't be so happy, something's definitely going to go wrong. But he's too glad and comforted in his arms he can't bring himself to do anything but squeeze the hand now held, the palm of his hand warm as he smoothes his laced fingers on the back of his hand.

"I'm not throwing a tantrum," he argues, pouting even as he feels his heart skip as lips touch the back of his hand. "I just thought you would do better without me..." The blond looks away, then looks back at the scribe and shakes his head. "No, that's not it. I didn't want to be hurt again. I wanted to go in my own terms, instead of getting kicked out." A fear that still lingers in the depths of his mind. Alhaitham might be okay with him now, but what about a week later? A month later? A year or a few dozen later? It wasn't a matter of lacking trust anymore. It was irrational, the fear of losing yet again and being pushed away by the one person he gives his heart to now. But Kaveh sighs a breath and closes his eyes, leaning forward to get closer. He's lived through everything else, survived, and thrived despite some pitfalls, hasn't he? He can do this..."Kind of unfair of me, considering what I did, huh?" Self-deprecating, joking, he doesn't even know what the tone is anymore. "You can call me an idiot, just this once. But only because you were being just as stupid." He knocks their foreheads together, laughing softly. Silly, to think they both thought the other didn't want them in their life when they lived together like this, acted differently only for one another, and always, always they were the exception to everything.

He whispers a playful 'yes', letting the scribe move his face and smiling as he kissed his cheek. It's not that Kaveh liked making Alhaitham apologize, but he knew to take what he could get. Will he ever hear Alhaitham apologize to him sincerely again, he's unsure. When crimson eyes meet teal, he blinks once, twice, then closes them and tilts his head because he knows that prying look, letting himself be kissed and counting each second preciously. When long lashes flutter open, he huffs and gives a slight nudge with his nose which might be both for the urge to smack him and also as a reassurance. "My mistake," he replies, wondering if Alhaitham was still as into kissing as he used to be.

"H- huh...?" Spend the rest of his life with who? Kaveh stutters, face heating with every word he speaks. Wait, hold on a quick moment. Is it only he who thinks Alhaitham's words suggest a bit more than they should? When he opens his eyes to look at the scribe, face so close with their foreheads together, he seems so calm and unfazed, Kaveh starts to think it's all him. Curse his vivid imagination, he bites his lower lip and holds his hand, letting their fingers lace. That just sounded an awful lot like a proposal, cheesy enough Kaveh could swear he's read it in some romance novels his juniors had shoved his way before. It irked him how well the scribe could pull it off, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he scrambles to put his brain back together, telling himself that was most likely not the intention. But it was a thought, the same sentiment, and the fact that he expected nothing from Kaveh despite the offer of forever...

"I don't know what put this idea in your head, but I don't plan to kiss someone I can't call my lover." Kaveh tilts his head and juts his chin out till their lips meet, a quick peck with crimson eyes still looking into teals. Then he closes his eyes so he can kiss him longer, lingering on his lips and nibbling once, chest against chest and feet crossed together as he steps closer, squeezing his hand tightly. "I know titles don't change anything, I know I made it sound like I don't want it, but I do. I don't think I'm at an age to be giddy over it or do anything with it necessarily, but titles are important to make intentions clear." Kaveh smiles and pulls back. "Don't you think so, Mr. Scribe who goes through research applications on the daily?" Kaveh lowers his torso, unlacing their fingers so he can hold his hand in both of his own, pulling it towards his forehead, crimson eyes closed as he presses against it. I respect you as much as I love you, the reverence he felt was stronger than he could put into words. There were too many things he couldn't possibly say yet, but if it was through actions, he hoped enough could be conveyed until he was ready to say them out loud.

"Alhaitham," he starts as he pulls himself up, keeping his hand near so he can hold it up and kiss his knuckles. "I'm in the mood to spoil you." Another kiss, down to his palm, crimson eyes suggestive as he grazes teeth on his wrist. "You should go eat breakfast. Then, if you don't think this is too fast... If you're not against spending the day letting me show you how much I cherish you," he whispers as he leans his face close, stealing a lingering kiss. "Come back to me." He's made plenty of mistakes already. "Let me do it right." Another soft brush of lips on his cheek. "Let me pamper you all day long."

[hancfubuki]

Pride always seems to be the one getting in between them. It doesn't matter how much he wants to speak clearly, words are definitely far away from being his specialty, and instead, the bluntness only becomes harsh sentences for Kaveh's ears to hear. Haitham never learnt how to convey his feelings aside from using silent actions, actions that lost its meaning as their love languages were different. Opposite. That's what they are, and even if that's somehow a blessing, it also is the main source of their misunderstandings. Neither of them knew how to talk. A game of hide and seek when it came about feelings, unsure if the truth would only repel each other. It's ironic to see how both of them feel the same, believing feelings are burden in such different manners, yet enough to create an invisible wall between them. Reaching for each other, silently, thinking it's never bound to happen. But still, of destiny truly exists then a thread is always connecting them together, a major force pulling them closer and forcing Haitham to always gravitate towards Kaveh.

He has never felt so vulnerable before, aside from those moments in which he was in the comfort of his grandmother's arms. Suddenly, he is a child again, hiding from the terrors of real life and unknown truths about his parents, feeling protected by the soft fabric of the woman's skirt, holding onto her leg, unsure how to talk. He feels small again, hopeless, an unsettling feeling that he could only describe as nerves when Kaveh tries to push him aside. Don't go, don't go! He is tired of running, sick of lying for the other's sake. It doesn't matter how much he believed himself to be selfish. He is not, especially when he only worries for the architect"s well being. It is frustrating, to see how Kaveh is blissfully unaware, or perhaps it's all just another facade. Both of them seem able to be themselves in front of each other, yet they usually wear masks. Enough is enough. Alhaitham is tired of that.

"I'm not crying." He answers, getting himself collected again, hands traveling towards his waist, eyelids closing at the contact of the blonde's fingers through his hair. "Well, I might be crying. Figuratively." Haitham smiles softly, sadness still in his eyes but allowing a more light-hearted tone to grace his voice. The mention of the others getting to his head, true yet not really. He does appreciate that people, but Haitham feels they are primarily Kaveh's friends-- except from the traveler, but that person is always running from one place to another to even try and compare the bond to the one he has with Kaveh. "I know." Comes in a whisper, lowering his head a little without looking at him, eyelids still shut. Silence is appreciated, but it is also a reminder Kaveh is out at the tavern, or at Tighnari's. Somewhere else, far away from him. It leads him to overthink, an attitude he despises, but leads him to worry about the other. Is he okay? Is he too drunk? And 90% of the time, he has to pick him up because he is too drunk to walk. Tiresome. But his new routine after all, and he is too used to those behaviors now he cannot imagine a life without them. "I like having you around, and I can't see you as a burden." He has tried to before. Convincing himself Kaveh is nothing more than a responsibility he took. No. It is always out of love, in fact, Kaveh was never a burden, and deep inside he knew it.

"You are always looking for new ways to move out. Should I take those as tantrums then?" Haitham allows his hand to be taken, lacing their fingers together in the process, bringing Kaveh's hand closer to his mouth to place a soft kiss on top of it. His chest is filled with warmth again, the erratic heartbeat calming slowly, gem glowing as brightly as possible, being a reminder that he has been feeling for the past hours, reminding himself he cannot easily get rid of the other. He doesn't want to, and he wonders if it's a good moment to speak sincerely without the fear of pushing him aside or making him uncomfortable. But the words spoken sound like music to his ears, something he has been wanting to hear since last night. It makes his heart melt, pushing a smile to curl from the corner of his lips. I love you. Three words, powerful meaning. Alhaitham himself is surprised to see how soothing those words are.

"Using my own words against me?" Idiot. Kaveh is truly such an idiot. But Haitham couldn't imagine a life without him, not anymore, especially when the years without him were pure torture, still unable to get him out of his head. He let go of his hand, moving them to cup softly Kaveh's face, getting closer to his ear "I'm sorry." Haitham whispers softly, a kiss to his cheek before looking back at crimson eyes. He sighs, no hesitation in his action as he pulls him closer again, locking lips together in a soft, lingering kiss. "Hm. How dare you tell me you love me without kissing me?" He teases him for a moment, fingertips lingering on his cheek. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Kaveh." Foreheads pressing together again, hands going down to his shoulders, rubbing against his arms to finally stop at his wrists, looking again for his hands.

"I am not asking you to go back together. Not yet. We can take our time, I doubt something will change anyway." Because their relationship status will not be an indicator to act differently. "But I really want you to stay. Even after your debt is paid." In reality, Alhaitham had inherited properties that belonged to his grandmother, and he could have easily sent Kaveh to one of those. Instead, he decided to keep him close, in his own place, the comfort of his house which now became a home. "This house does belong to you too, after all. This will always be your place."

Stepping out of the room, Kaveh couldn't think.

The anger in him drained out immediately once he was in a different space, walking towards the living room, placing his cup down on the low table. He vaguely realizes how much he's shaking only because he spills some coffee on his hand as he puts it down, licking it off without a thought, only to bite down lightly when he has the sudden urge to scream. It's gone. It's all gone. He always knew it would come down to this, knew that he would break them apart again, something would happen and they would argue to the point of no return one day. The blond had wanted to avoid this, wanted to be able to keep a neutral rivalry with Alhaitham where they at the least didn't hate each other. He wanted to run, to leave the house, go away before he could be hurt first before he could hurt the scribe as well-- because look. It was inevitable. They were destined to fight and break up again whenever they got close, and he had feared this the most. Empty, alone, all alone with nowhere to go. He logically knows he's a working adult, he has the funds to stay somewhere for a while, his debt is nearly paid off and half a year later he should be scott-free to live like any normal person. Yet, that's not enough.

He's been spoiled by a home.

He fears the days of oppressing silence yet to come, he doesn't want to be alone again. The blond didn't want his last conversation with Alhaitham to be a fight once again, despite how it was mostly the blond running away after throwing heartbroken arguments from his side of the story. Still, he thought he had grown up and matured from his days in the Akademiya, but he cannot bring himself to apologize when he felt wronged. Pride was their biggest flaw and yet he couldn't bring himself to rid of it when it has been poked and cut raw, rubbing his thumb over his palm, nervous holding of shaky hands. He didn't realize how hard he was breathing until he hears his own breaths reach his ears, panicked and hurt, near sobs with no tears. He hurt Alhaitham again with his harsh words, but he was also hurt by his rejection. Kaveh looks at the room, the paired items, useless artifacts that had no value but to please him, some to anger him, the things they shared, and the comfort of knowing another person so well and sharing their space, their warmth. It feels hopeless, a life after this, even if he wants to convince himself he was being too dramatic, he knows it'll never stop hurting or choking him with tears. Emotions made him human. He argued the importance of them plenty with Alhaitham himself,  but sometimes he wishes he could shut it all off for a day.

Then Kaveh hears a loud crash. "Haitham...?" A meek voice as he snaps out of his swirling thoughts, feet dragging him toward the direction of the loud sound. Worry fills his features, but the fear of anger and sharp words still linger, dancing in crimson eyes as he takes one more step toward the hallway. The sound that nearly escaped him when he saw the scribe running was fearful, but the glimpse he got of the man's face made his eyes widen in surprise before he feels arms tightly around him, squeezed so hard he nearly suffocates. "Haitham- don't... Let me go!" The blond struggles, breathing ragged as he smacks at his back once, twice, then wriggles in place. But he's so tired, he's worried just enough at the rare show of emotion on his face, and immediately he is stilled when he hears him begging him not to go. Instantly, he's filled with dread. "No, no no... I don't want to hear it. I'm still angry." Kaveh croaks out in pain, shaking his head from side to side as he refuses to listen. But his hands are far from his ears and every word seeps into his broken heart with more pain and miserable hope. Hope, more hope than he wants to experience again, wishing he could cry tears than make despaired noises in the back of his throat, muted as he presses his lips together, not stopping the shake of his head. It scares him, how easily he wants to hold him back and caress his fingers through his hair, scream at the top of his lungs that he too, he too loved him so much it hurt. Every push away, every rejection of the scribe's approaches were fearful barriers he built in case his feelings were found out, if Alhaitham would realize he never stopped loving him and now living together as roommates, he would be disgusted with how Kaveh desired him.

Apologies were not their thing. Mostly because of their pride, and somehow, they always ended up letting off steam elsewhere before slowly migrating back to each other one way or another. That was the perks of living together he had thought.

So, when he hears an apology from the scribe, Kaveh is shocked still and his hands freeze in the air. The arms around him tighten and he can feel the tremble of his words although barely, and it makes his heart squeeze, closing his eyes as he squeezes his hands into fists behind him, shaking in his hold. Kaveh had a choice to push him away, to end it all for them both. It would be easy, a clear rejection from both sides that could cut their bonds for good. But his concern won over as he finally hugs back, patting a soothing line down his back as the scribe rambled on. "You..." He doesn't mean to intrude, simply a soft sound in the midst of all his confessions as he gets bombarded with too much information. The architect realizes that all his anger had left him long ago, even as he had smacked him and claimed the feeling lingered. It's impossible to stay mad when Alhaitham is in his arms, nuzzling his neck and clinging onto him like a crying child, reminiscent of the nightmares he's seen of himself. Crying, sobbing his heart out as he clings onto his father, onto his mother, onto Alhaitham as he begs them not to go, but they disappear all the same, leaving him all alone in a quiet, empty space. He knows that pain, he understands the loneliness of being alone, and had always known the man was lonely since they were teens. It had been the reason he approached in the first place after all, maybe it was why he continued to stay with him after. But now...

"It's not like you to say that. You're more than just me." The blond brushes his hair back, threading his fingers in his hair and feels calmer. Maybe because he was seeing the man break down, showing so much vulnerability, he had no time to think about himself. "Is that so." He leans down and kisses his temple, breathing in his scent and letting the tremors in his voice and body calm, taking his warmth to become his own to share. The hope in his chest cowers, but with every heartbeat, every breath he feels against his neck, with every confession for the devotion the scribe had for him, he's building himself back together so he can support the other. It's reminiscent of how he's kept himself glued together, pretending nothing was wrong as he watched parts of his life break apart and go away. But right now, it's different. He was holding himself together so he can keep what little he has left, and this little was equivalent to the whole of his future. It didn't hurt him to hold himself together now, encouraged to be better than forced. "Hey, look at me. Haiyi, I'm right here, so please look." Kaveh tickles his jaw with a finger, then slowly tilts his head away from his neck so he could get a better look at his face, caressing his cheek. "Don't cry, you're a good boy," he says, even if there were no actual tears on his face, he knew his heart was doing it all for him. "I'm right here. Keep holding onto me." Because he needed it too, the comfort of being held in his arms and kept close.

"You have so much more than just me. I'm not the only one anymore. You have Cyno, Tighnari, even Collei, the traveler, and some of their friends. A favor from Lord Kusanali, too. You're not alone. But..." He gives a dry laugh, eyes a little dull. "I understand." Because he was the same. There may be tons of people in the world, and there may be friends, but the person he wanted to never part from, and cared for the most was right here in his arms. He brushes his bangs away, a gentle smile as he sees both his eyes, beautiful even when filled with sadness, but it could be even more so without it. "Without me, you could live a peaceful life without arguing, no one to pester you and your horrible choices in financial freedom. I wouldn't be here to nag you about how you put all your things or the mess you make in every room you go with books littered everywhere." The rambles are little bits of things, parts of them that he loved and feared both, because he wanted those in his life so bad, hoped Alhaitham found them as important as he did as their sign of life together. "But if you still choose me... It might not be a quiet life. I refuse to let go of my ideals and I can't promise not to get into more trouble in the future." His palace, the second scam, so many things he gets involved in. "I also will not forgive you if you send me off again thinking I want to sit still and be protected while you're out there doing something stupid." He sighs, caresses his cheek, and leans their foreheads together. "I'll always fear losing you again, I'm a burden and you can't logically tell me that's not true. But... I also. Want to live with you." He is rubbing his arm, down to his wrist and begging for his hand to hold. "I love you too. You can't force your feelings on someone who already loves you." How stupid that both of them were doing the exact same thing, pushing the other away out of fear of becoming a burden, but yearning too much to lose and give it up.

He smiles, a forced cheekiness in his eyes as he finally gets Alhaitham's hand away so he could grip it tight, lacing their fingers together. "But someone once told me to show sincerity, things should be said thrice." He can't help himself, brushing their noses together in a sign of intimacy, wanting some normalcy from their life back to make this less intense. It's fine to argue, just please don't push him away. "If you apologize one more time, maybe I'll forgive you and stay forever."

[hancfubuki]

The conversation wasn't going an expected, even though Alhaitham did not set up any kind of expectations and illusions as most part of the time all their exchanges turn into arguing. It was stressful, tiresome, not to be able to speak properly as the arrogant tone and the harsh words always came unconsciously. Haitham hold the thought of knowing Kaveh so highly in his head he always provoked this type of interactions. Why is it so hard for him to keep a normal talk? He was apologizing even, he was being nice and he had to fuck it up with his extreme rationality and defensive behavior.

That's it. He is defensive in his own way.

Differently from Kaveh, the scribe shelters himself under a know-it-all blanket, when in fact he still feels like a lonely child who is bound to stay alone for the rest of his life. He convinces himself that's what he wants. Silence, loneliness, the entire space for him, when in reality, and very deep inside his heart, all he yearns about is company, understanding and love. Love coming in the form of sweet touches and praise from his senior, attention from him, words of love from him. He is so damn obsessed with Kaveh. With the idea of being appreciated like he used to be once. He is not a child anymore, he is far from being cute and small. Instead, he grew up to be hot-headed pompous genius who doesn't get along with anyone. It made him wonder, if talking to him in the library that day was a mistake. Maybe if he had stayed by his own... No. What ifs don't exist. Kaveh came to his life for a reason, and somehow, they always kept gravitating towards each other, unconsciously, almost magically it was ridiculous.

He doesn't answer, allowing the other to talk, or rather to complain and let everything out. Last night was perfect, and now they are arguing again. His head hurts already, and the pain in his chest returns along with some words that Nahida spoke to him once before. 'You need to be nicer to him.' The problem is, he can't. Alhaitham is clinging to the idea that, if he becomes nicer and kind to Kaveh he is going to leave. But now he is left feeling desperate, rage starting to create in his gaze as his own blood keeps boiling in his veil. And he feels his hands sweating, shaking, it's hard to breath. It makes him frown, gulping his own saliva in an attempt to calm down. Anger? Sadness? He is unable to give a name to this sensation as it's something he bare;y experiments. His heart is beating louder, it resounds in his ears and it rings, leaving an obnoxious sound that is getting on his nerves. Alhaitham finds himself agitated, and the blonde is still not looking at him. Anxiety? Ah, this must be anxiety and he hates how it feels.

It is hard for him to admit he is wrong. Haitham likes to have the last word, and it is something he has never tried to hide. It's one of his toxic traits, and now, thinking about all the things he told Kaveh made him realize how much of a horrible person he truly is. A bashful lie he thought was going to work as long as it was needed. But now he is reaching his breaking point, he gets startled when the cup of coffee hits the desk, closing his eyes in return as now he is the one who doesn't want to face him. This is just a domino effect, years of tension and arguing coming together, finally tiring Kaveh out. The worst part of it is, Alhaitham cannot blame him. He hears a voice in his head to let him go. To let him walk away and never return, perhaps it's the best for both of them. After all, all they do is hurt each other and he seems to be glued to that chair right now. But is this really what he wants to? After all those years chasing after Kaveh, showing him glimpses of his kindness only when necessary, being forced to push him aside because they are unable to talk properly...

May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life.

May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life.

May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life.

Right. Grandma's wishes. He is alone. He had to buried her, he never met his parents and all he had for them were pieces of paper. All he has is Kaveh. A reminiscent part of all the best qualities of the woman he always loved and protected him, and he is unable to grasp what exactly it is, but it feels like some part of him is inside of Kaveh. He should let him go, everything should be over. But... he doesn't want to.

Crash! The noise of the wooder chair falling on the floor echoes around the room. He is trembling, and even if the sound does hurt his ears he decides to ignore it for once, chasing after Kaveh, desperately, teal eyes filled with mixed emotions as finally a expression of sadness forms on his face. He is unable to cry, but he is so overwhelmed he feels he could do it any moment. Taking advantage of his speed, his strength, he accelerates his steps only to wrap his arms around Kaveh's delicate frame, puling him into an embrace as his face buries in his shoulder.

"Don't go." He faintly starts, hugging his tightly with no intentions to let him go. This same sensation, it was similar when the Inter-Darshan had place, when Kaveh won. He didn't want him to go. He didn't want him to move away, and he was delighted he gave up the prize. That time though, he didn't say a word about it. Now, it felt required. "Whenever I tried to be kind to you, you pushed me aside. You acted uncomfortable, and back then, if I shouldn't have told you I wanted to study you, you probably won't be here today. I'm doing anything possible for you to stay, even if that means constantly teasing you and making up lies to hide my feelings. It appeared to me, you have moved on and I didn't want to disrupt that for you when I'm still stuck in the faint memories of you and me together. Even when I tried not to yearn for the past, guess it's inevitable. I am human too, and it's something I cannot fully control." He takes a deep breath, not used to talk this much unless it's Kaveh. It's always Kaveh. So he tightens his grip, nose snuzzling against the crook of his neck, wanting to smell his scent one more time. "I'm sorry." He sighs. It feels strange, the first time apologizing. "I'm really sorry for everything, Kaveh. All I ever said was to protect you. Perhaps it was not the best way to do so. I truly care and worry about you, and the only way you seemed to listen was through harsh words. Now I realize I was wrong. So please, don't go. Don't leave me alone, you are all I ever got, and you are the only one I care about. All I have ever done was for you. Because I wanted to keep living with you, I wanted you to stay, I wanted our daily routine. I sent you to the desert back then on purpose because I knew you would put yourself in danger at the hive case. I helped Lord Kusanali because I wanted to return home to you, normally, with no threats. I want to lead a peaceful life as my grandma asked me to, with you. I do love you, but I cannot force my feelings on you, and as long as you are happy, I'm happy. I want your unstable behavior, I want your good moments too. I want everything about you, positive or negative."

He feels so vulnerable. A side he has not shown to anyone, not even his grandma as he was used to feel sad int he solitude of his room. Enough is enough. He knew the time was going to come at some point.

"I'm nothing without you, Kaveh."

"You..!" Kaveh bites back his words in the last second, rubbing his temple to get rid of the rising temper and headache. He comes in hoping for a cordial conversation only to realize Alhaitham is sulking and pissed off. He supposes it's too hopeful to expect him to be in a good mood after all that's gone on in the last twelve hours or less, but he was hoping he could at least talk this out a bit. Now he's unsure if Alhaitham wanted to talk at all. It's unlike him, to want to avoid the conversation, so he thinks it's a rather stupid assumption until he realizes many of his assumptions of the scribe had been useless anyways. "If you didn't always do things that are infuriating, I wouldn't get angry or raise my voice either. Do you think I like being angry or something?" He huffs, shoulders sagging with a glare at the bookshelf, sipping his coffee. Fine, if Alhaitham was going to be the one getting mad, he'll just have to keep himself calm so the conversation goes somewhere. Yet, he knew he had much less patience than the man, and it was only a matter of time before he bites back, going once again to their usual routine.

But... Could they? He already feels the crack between them, the tension too thick with truths revealed. Kaveh couldn't go back like this.

The blond scrunches his nose. He is tempted to whip his head back and glare at the scribe. But he doesn't, drinking his coffee as his grip on the cup gets tighter, his anger taken out on the poor cup. What does he even have to elaborate on? Alhaitham knew exactly what he was talking about, and he didn't like how this conversation was going already. But he supposes he's not wrong that it was vague, a zero if this was a thesis paper. Still, this wasn't the Akademiya and this wasn't a thesis report, he wasn't talking to the Grand Scribe of the Akademiya but Alhaitham himself, and he refused to change that. So he ignores the question, letting silence fill the room till the other speaks himself. Kaveh feels his shoulders jump slightly at the sound of his book closing, loud in the looming silence. Oh, had Alhaitham been reading this whole time? Typical of him, and normally he would turn around and argue, but he doesn't. Even Alhaitham seems to notice this and points it out, but he tries not to be baited, still staring at the bookshelves and shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm not looking away because I don't have courage. I just don't want to argue." And he knew the moment he looked at his face and saw the emotionless face and piercing eyes, he would immediately go into a defensive mode to argue with him, shouting if he must. That would ruin his plans for a talk, and he simply decided Alhaitham thinking he's a coward was better than running away from his problems for real. Pinpricks stab his skin, clinically thinking about how weird emotional pain worked. It always translated to physical pain somehow, leading it to be more painful. It wasn't a rhetorical question, he thinks, but doesn't say anything as he takes a slow sip of the coffee, letting its warmth calm him. But he's feeling queasy already, hands shaking minutely which he forces to still by holding the handle harder, digging his nails into the bottom of the desk's edge where he holds to keep himself balanced. The words from behind him were so reminiscent of that one stupid day, accusing words that stabbed right through his insecurities, no softening to the wound they left as it bled and bled. Turning a blind eye... He nearly laughs, thinking about how it was the exact same words he's been told that night.

The architect thought finally hearing the scribe's feelings would leave him with a racing heart, shy in the same manner he felt as they fell into bed together, or humbled as he had in the tavern, realizing he was desired. He didn't expect to feel empty.

Empty. 

Huh. Maybe he wasn't processing any emotions, but he felt pain instead. It's amusing when he disassociates with his own feelings for a second, realizing the pain in his chest was his heart shattering to pieces. Kaveh didn't realize it was possible to be heartbroken from hearing a confession, but he supposes there are more tragic things. He stays silent, too many things he wants to say but none that would be calm, all emotional lashing out that he couldn't control. "You're so arrogant, I want to punch you down a notch." Was probably not the first thing normal people would say when they're told they've been loved all these years, after a decade-long separation and still holding onto a sacred feeling such as love. But when it's them, raw and open, it feels less like something sacred but something that hurts, he would struggle with blood and sweat for and still, he hates that he thinks it's worth it. The blond takes a sip of his coffee and sets it down to lean against his thigh, balancing it just so the contents didn't tilt and spill. "For someone who says they don't expect reciprocation, aren't you a bit too angry about my lack of?" He spits, bitter and annoyed. "When you got jealous of the man in the tavern. When you left all these fingerprints and marks on me. When you decided to fuck me in your room and say you love me, you're telling me it was all one-sided, without any hopes for reciprocation? You wouldn't care if I didn't say I love you back?"

Kaveh slams the cup down next to him, hand shaking as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "You told me." Another deep breath, calming the anger boiling right under his skin. "You told me, you wanted to study the mind of someone with a different view. Maybe it was a veiled excuse or a lie. But... I believed you." For the longest time, he thought all the shouting and arguments, the long-winded debates were just so the scribe could learn more about Kaveh's point of view, and the blond would understand that as he holds the same intrinsic desire to study and figure things out. However, when it started to become kinder, alcohol and payments for his food, instruments, and furniture that didn't matter, and it started to confuse him. He decided it was all for proving his theory or something of the sort. So what? He has to be admonished for believing him so easily? "You accuse me of turning a blind eye to everything, but what was I supposed to do? You do nice things for me but the next moment, we're arguing again." It was just a window at a time when he saw tenderness, a fruit hanging too high for him to quite reach. "You always tell me that I'm thinking too much, that I shouldn't project on you. I admit, I got angry because I felt defensive. After all..." He takes a sharp breath, pushing himself off the desk and turning around, crimson eyes filled with guilt and sadness. He's just so tired.

"I genuinely thought I was projecting on you."

Every kindness he showed, every touch he gave, every time he spoiled him, if he didn't force himself to think they were just a part of his experiment, a part of his study, how was he supposed to stop himself from hoping for more despite having them crushed again and again with words that said otherwise. "Maybe, I did try to turn a blind eye to everything, but that's because I didn't want to push my feelings onto you." They're obviously a burden. Bile rises to his throat and he swallows it, his gaze moving away. He has no right to ask for anything. Not after being the one to push Alhaitham away first. "You say you love me but you say you don't expect anything. Then what am I supposed to do?" Like this... He was left hanging, neither able to love nor to hate-- it was like being left to suffer and he couldn't handle it. "I don't want to keep acting the fool because I want more than I can have. You don't get to mock me, and face no repercussions." He picks up his cup and walks off. He needs to go. Kaveh keeps feeling hurt each time he lets himself be vulnerable; lets himself hope for something. But Alhaitham himself said he didn't want anything, right? Besides, he didn't appreciate being mocked so openly. Never, but especially not now. He knew his worth, even if Alhaitham will taunt him relentlessly about it. So he doesn't want to stay or listen to him anymore. "I'm sorry you had to deal with my 'unstable behavior'," he snaps back coldly. If his vulnerability is a burden, then he doesn't want to give it anymore. "I won't bother you with it ever again."

[hancfubuki]

Haitham glances back at Kaveh, unamused at the statement and over the fact he fails to understand he only acts like this towards him. Kaveh is the subject of his adoration, the person he wants to tease, to admire and to scold merely out of worry and appreciation. He has never been good with words, actions were easier to let out his feelings, but Kaveh is a slight exception to the rule as, for some reason, he enabled the scribe into a childish behavior. It's kind of a futile attempt to call his attention, the constant need of having the blond focusing on him and complaining about his snarky remarks. Because he loves to see his frowning expression, as much as he loves to see him smile. There exists an hyper fixation on how expressive Kaveh is, something he lacks, so it's only normal certain curiosity and obsession to go through the different emotional states of the architect developed during the time they were together. That, and, the only way to call his attention nowadays is riling him up.

"Hm." He is sure Kaveh hates when he responds with a hum. But it simply comes automatically, this is how he communicates. "Then go ahead and call the Matra on me. I'm pretty sure their General will be far away from outraged." A defiant look in his eyes. Perhaps not the right moment to throw such bomb, though it could be open to interpretation, and considering how frustrated Kaveh is, he assumes he will not be able to pick the original meaning of that phrase immediately. Oh well. He will deal with that later.

Sometimes his childish behavior goes out of hand, and he fails to realize it. Pushing the other to far into the edge, not realizing his words and actions might be too much for him to digest. Haitham has no filter, yet at the same time social interactions are not his forte and he acts out of self-pleasure. Haitham won't do anything he doedn't want to, but times like these only showed that, even if he denies it, there's moments of impulsivity coming from him. Planned, and assuming consequences, but still feeding into his own gratification without paying too much attention to his surroundings. He did want to help. Knowing he had to pull out yet decided against it as he wanted to reclaim his territory, did cause some sort of regret at the back of his mind. Couldn't say he was fully expecting Kaveh to receive him with open arms and fluttering kisses all over his face, but he knows, by experience, how difficult, uncomfortable and disgusting being filled up feels.

And his lips part to say something, to complain about the sudden tone, but no words get out of his throat. The man is too stunned to speak, a rare ocurrence in Alhaitham.

He understands. Kaveh is in distress. For the first time in his entire life, he realizes what is like to be on the receiving end of harsh words. Not sugarcoated, and he appreciates that, at least he is able to point out the blonde has built up some character. But oh lord, it hurts. It hurts so much his mind goes conpletely blank as that single sentence keeps resounding inside. For fuck's sake, he knows they are not lovers anymore, so why is it so painful? Teal eyes travel across the room, focusing on the single gleam coming from his chest. Not this again, please. Because the gem glows whenever he feels strong emotions. It's like a lottery, to guess his current emotions as there's no specific detail that distinguishes them. Though, given the circumstances and the fact he decides not to talk, it's obvious those words did pierce through his heart.

Fine. He finishes taking the soap out of his body, stepping away from the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist. He doesn't look at Kavrh at any moment, doesn't talk to him either and walks away, closing softly the door behind him, still acting collected at the whole situation. Leaving a trail of droplets all the way to his room, he walks towards his wardrobe and takes out his usual choice of clothing. Taking a moment to dry his hair with the towel, after a few minutes he takes his earpirce back on place. Noise cancelling option on, not even wanting to hear a tune. He gets out of his room, walks through the halls to get out of the house. He needs to clear his mind.

Haitham is unsure of the time. 9? 10? He didn't check the clock, but the morning is fast-paced as he walks through the city. With intentions of going to the Grand Baazar, he does get distracted by Nilou's performance for a while. An easy and simple life, he really did appreciate her routine. And as he keeps walking through the selling booths he feels his shoulder been poked-- Dehya greeting him. Common courtesy as he stops to talk to her and spending more minutes there. Again, unaware of the time, clearing his mind and returning to his shopping. He finally purchases frrsh fruit, only to direct himself towards Lambad's, having to wait more time until his order is done. 30 minutes have passed already when he returns home. Haitham doesn't look for Kaveh, assuming he is still in the bathroom or laying down on his bed, instead moves to the kitchen and starts slicing the fruits in small pieces, leaving them on a plate over the small table located at the living room, next to it a bowl of soup freshly made by Lambad. Haitham knows he loves that one, but instead of calling him, he simply leaves a note next to it.

'For your hangover.'

Feet moving towards his office, peeking through the books and particularly focusing on one with a hard, thick emerald cover. He takes it out, hand going through the surface as he blows the dust away. Haitham opens the title page, reading over and over again the note written in the book:

'May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life.'

Grandma, I wish you were here to help me.

The sudden shout of pain makes his shoulders jump, head snapping towards the scribe with instant worry. It's only then that he realizes the bright red scratches on his back, long and painfully new. He looks like he got scratched up by a cat, but Kaveh knows what those are and he's flustered, lips that parted to give apologies sealing tight as he shakes his head. No. He's not apologizing when Alhaitham isn't commenting on it or complaining about them. He didn't have to bring it up and it's not like the scribe hadn't done a number on his own skin. He thinks most of it should be hidden by his clothes, maybe his hair could mask the ones along his neck, but the bitemarks on his shoulders still stung, the bruises on his hips and legs starting to purple and they ached deep into his bones. He vaguely wonders if he has fingerprints on his neck, having gone straight for the shower without checking the mirror, too rushed and maybe a little scared to see how much he's been marked. Kaveh refuses to admit the odd satisfaction of being mauled so aggressively, but he's also contradicting himself by admitting to himself how pleasurable it was, a decade-long itch scratched and bruised raw, he's satisfied beyond anything else could do.

If the annoying pain would just go away. The sharp one right now in his abdomen, begging him to ignore all dignity and clean up so he can just lay down on the divan outside and stretch out like a cat in the warm sunlight. He doesn't want to act so quiet or cold after everything or be angry. It's not like Kaveh particularly enjoyed being in a bad mood, but it was hard to stay happy when his whole attention is on subduing the pain and his grimaces, trying to act normal while being angry at the sudden intrusion of his space. Right, not his. Not like being roommates provided much privacy, but Alhaitham was definitely enjoying the gap of leeway the blond has accidentally opened up for him after a night of intimacy far too much.

"Not bold of me to assume you'd do it to someone else if you've already done it right now." He huffs back, fingers raking through his hair. Like a professional avoider of truth, he completely misses the point Alhaitham was making, instead distracting himself with the treatment in his hair, making sure to get it onto every strand. He's already detangling so much, the lather of soap helping slick up the work so it's easier. It's a distraction he needed, something else other than emotions and merely a simple task. Kaveh made the mistake of taking a quick glance at the scribe, crimson eyes glued to his face as his bangs are pushed up, revealing the usually hidden eye and showing off his full face. He really has such a nicely chiseled appearance, and he didn't even need to go below his shoulders to say that. Teal eyes stand out with the bright orange hue within them, his grey hair darkened with the shower and flat against the side of his neck, some stray strands next to his ears that make his fingers twitch with the urge to touch it, help him move it away. But his hands are glued to his own hair, mimicking his desire by curling his hair behind his ear, throwing it behind his shoulder when it tickles the wounds on his shoulder too much. The architect is quick to look away at the wall when he senses the other move his gaze, pretending he hadn't just been staring at his face. But it's hard to stay calm and collected when he can feel his piercing gaze, running along his neck where he's exposed. Then, there's a sigh. "What?" Kaveh warily looks at the scribe, looking ready to leave and Kaveh holds his breath.

Help? Is that really how someone offers help? The blond is looking at Alhaitham, but he really isn't. Just facing his general direction, eyes unfocused. Something ugly forms in his chest alongside the annoyance that bubbled under his skin. He feels something in him snap.

"I don't need your help!" He shouts, gritting his teeth as he holds himself straighter, back against the wall for support. Kaveh just wanted the pain to stop. He didn't want to argue and he wanted to drink something warm to calm his heart so he could talk properly to Alhaitham, deal with the mess they've landed themselves in, and hope for a happier ending. He didn't want to be angry, or guilty when he thinks about the scribe's confession. The blond didn't want to push him away, fearing that it'll be taken as a rejection, if his emotional breakdown hadn't already looked like one, crying tears as he said he couldn't do it. He didn't plan on denying his obvious infatuation with the man if asked over a warm cup of coffee. Yet right now, he feels like his feelings are being played with, taken lightly and he feels manipulated through them, losing control. It started with something as simple as not wanting Alhaitham to see him clean up. It felt too intimate when he was still trying to process what he wants. Then it's the punch in the gut when he's swayed by everything while Alhaitham can act as if nothing had happened, acting like he can do anything he wants, walking into the shower and staying even though he should be well aware of the blond's distress. It strengthens the prickling pain that comes from emotions as he thinks of the worst. Did he care so little about how Kaveh felt? Was it all a lie to see his reaction?

"Out...!" He shouts, and points at the door, an angry glare as he stomps a foot down, taking a step forward. "It hurts. I'm in pain because as you know, you came inside last night and I want to clean it out. Alone." He feels his eyes hot, and he hates himself even more for it because it only disproved his ability to hold himself together. But right now, he's hurt, he's in pain, and he's so stressed he wants to lash out with all he has but knows it would only cause regret. He doesn't want to repeat his mistake. God, he'd rather do anything else. So he digs his nails into his own hand, biting back the tears. "I was trying to be nice, but take a hint! I may have asked for sex last night but you have no right just barging in while I'm in the shower. We're not lovers anymore, Alhaitham. You don't have permission to do that." He coughs when his throat spikes in pain, still sore from last night, but he's not distracted by it as he takes another step forward, and he's ready to poke his finger on his chest until his eyes catch the gem on his chest, memories of touching it gently, the way it glowed the night before. Damn it, he knows! He gets it, Alhaitham wasn't lying! That doesn't mean he's justified for making Kaveh feel like he had no choice but to follow his whims. "Just because you own the house doesn't mean you're off the hook! I'm sure even you can understand why I'm angry right now." He felt like he was being mocked, the power imbalance was tipping him over and he begs amidst his anger for Alhaitham to give him a semblance of control. "Get out. Go read a book. Do whatever you want. Don't talk to me until I finish making coffee for both of us or I'm not talking to you about last night, ever!"

[hancfubuki]

Discarding the unnecessary, that's how the scribe has learned to live. Alhaitham appreciated the little details life brought to him, focused on the present without worrying about the future or thinking about the past. Hums of joy escaping through his lips, smile blossoming from the corner of these as teal orbs admire the man on top of him. A simple and peaceful life, that's all he asks for, and it doesn't matter if there's specific circumstances bringing them together. But as long as Kaveh is there, he will be able to keep that happiness in place.

His own body is burning upon hearing the precious voice of the architect calling his name. Grabbing his hips delicately to ease him when his length stretched his insides. Another hum, coming in a more playful tone, resounds in the room. Sweet touches and delicate kisses being peppered all over his face to distract him from the incoming pain. But he is feeling hot, and sweat is starting to form on his forehead and body as he brings the blonde's frame closer to his body. "Take it easy." He whispers, even when he is starting to desperately take him in one go, he is aware the other has lost some practice. Good, oh so good. The thought of him being the only one able to hold Kaveh like this sending shivers down his spine, feeding his arousal as his hips buckle forward until he is sucked up inside. Though he doesn't move for a moment, feeling hid own cock being pressed in between the walls of his holes, so tight and warm, his throbbing erection starting to feel sensitive at the touch.

The loud moan in his ear catches him out of guard, and in other circumstances he would have complained, but his body trembles after listening, letting out soft groans of his own as hungry lips looked for Kaveh's once again. And now he is giggling, Haitham realizes this man is tantalizing, pushing him into some sort of trance as his only focus is solely Kaveh. Oh, to be Alhaitham. He is aware anyone would kill to be in his position. To have the prettiest man in Sumeru moaning their name and making such adorable expressions. It is the moment Alhaitham realizes how privileged he truly is, having one more chance with the man he loves and cherish. He gets closer, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. "If you need to stop then--" Ah, he is cut mid-sentence, probably some sort of karma from his previous actions when he attempted for the architect to be flustered. Staring attentively, he couldn't choke back the moan escaping once he fully feels Kaveh. Haitham is not even allowed to reply or say something to tease him, as his mouth is filled with wet tongue swirling inside his cavern. Sucking lightly on it, greedily taking his lips in between his as he desperately kisses and licks back with every single thrust of his hips.

Kaveh moves yet again, and he is starting to get pissed. A frown appearing on id forehead, feeling helpless as the tables turned and now is the blonde messing with him. It didn't last longer, though, because in the blink of the eye he feels how the friction against the sensitive tissue starts sending jolts through his bones. Fuck. The pressure of Kaveh's body bouncing back and forth on him was incredibly hot, hazy eyes staring back at red orbs, hands roaming all across his body, holding his waist tightly as he forced him down to feel him deeper. One his hands goes to the extend of looking for his neglected erecrion, stroking it up and down, matching the rhythm of Kaveh's riding.

The haziness re-appearing to cloud his mind, being driven by his own animalistic behavior, throwing his hips up in hopes to reach his sensitive spot. More, he needs more. He abruptly grabs on his hips and increase the range of his thrusts, wanting him to fill the roam with his exquisite moans and his name rolling off his tongue. "Kaveh..." He throws his head on the mattress, voice coming in the form of agitated breathing, almost coming in a whisper. He is at the point of no return, throwing away any ounce of rationality left at the back of his mind and being controlled by lust. "Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you." He frowns, gasping for air as he abruptly moves his hand away from his face. Hokding on his wrists, he presses enough strength to leave visible red marks. Abusing from his toned body again, he pushes himself forward and brings Kaveh down with him, making his back to agressively hit against the mattress.

Red cheeks, sweaty forehead, half-lidded eyes full of desire. He muffles the moan by himself by introducing his tongue inside of his mouth, passionate and messy kisses that have been held back for years of locked up sexual frustration. Now he is on top, his hips thrusting intensely, twitching in his insides, his erecrion throbbing and feeling at the verge od exploding. 'Moan in my mouth until you choke'. Though it didn't last long, the intense exchange being precipitously cut as Haitham takes a deep breath.

"I love you."

He doesn't give a fuck anymore. He will deal with the consequences the morning after. He will pretend neither of them said anything. And they can argue and be awkward for the rest of the week. Keep fucking, go back together-- who cares.

He grabs on his thighs, tucking them up and forcing his body to arche over the mattress, squatting in front of him without pulling out, instead, intensifying the movement of his thrusts. His hands remain on his thighs, leaving the marks of his fingertips on the pale skin. Now he is reaching so deeply in hopes to completely mess with Kaveh senses. He finds the spot he is looking for, hips moving back and forth with no mercy as he leans his body forward, letting go of his thighs only to stimulate Kaveh's dick in return, strokes matching the rhythm of his hips as he looks once again for his lips. Hips moving aggressively, followed by messy kisses and the intense gratification of hearing Kaveh moaning below him. Haitham realizes he is not going to last longer, as he keeps pushing, throaty grunts of pleasure being unable to leave his mouth as he finally moves his arms to fully embrace Kaveh.

Vocal reassurance is what he requires, isn't it?

"I love you, Kaveh." He repeats as his voice finally breaks, tongue hitting against the roof of his mouth in annoyance, mostly towards himself. Why he has the need to hear it back? Bad habits are contagious. But before he could say anything else, tongue once again intrudes his mouth, messy and wet kisses not being able to be controlled or stopped. Haitham feels the inevitable shock going down his spine quickly, electrifying his body completely as he discharges inside of the architect.

He takes a deep sight, panting loudly as his face hides on the blonde's shoulder. Labored breathing gradually returning to the normal pace, getting closer to give a kiss to his cheek.

Silence.

Haitham keeps holding onto Kaveh, the embrace being incredibly warm. But he takes a moment to listen to their heartbeats, as the connection and passion were revived. He moves a little, wanting to give Kaveh enough space for him to breath, though he rests his chin on the lower part of his torso, cheek resting softly against his stomach as teal orbs stare at his face, expectantly, showing both curiosity and admiration. Play with his hair, pet him-- his hands also resting at the sides of his waist as he finally relaxes there. No words needed, only a gaze filled with extreme fondness as he admires Kaveh from his position, reaching for his hand, only to play a little with his fingers before intertwining them together with his. "I said it earlier, but... " He pauses, letting out what's probably the sweetest smile he has giving up to date.

"You truly look beautiful tonight."

Alhaitham's guess wasn't quite far from the truth.

The architect is barely conscious of what he has said, head filled with cotton and high on hormones, barely any blood left in his brain as it all rushed south to think critically about his actions. The alcohol he consumed did little to help. But it is also the only thing keeping him from freaking out right that moment, keeping him pliant and happy as he allows himself to show his affections openly be it in physical form or with prose. It was, as they both knew, the only time Kaveh could be honest without thinking too much and there may be a part of him that wants to take advantage of it. He'd be hard-pressed to say he remembers feeling so good and happy in recent years, running around with debt and picky clients, barely any meaningful social interactions that went further than surface-level chats when the dichotomy of his real life and people's perception of him were so huge. So being able to release all the pent-up emotions he's kept for nearly a decade, and letting himself feel deeply without holding back was exhilarating. It felt like he was relearning a part of himself he had kept locked up, like the first breath of fresh air after being trapped in a cage for years.

Except his fresh air was the scent of his beloved home and the heavy musk of sex, throat sore yet still singing sounds of pleasure with every touch of heated skin. But that didn't bother him and only turned him on, lips parting with another gasp as his lips are bitten, licking it as he chases after the scribe's own, nibbling back playfully, more intent on feeling them than getting retribution. Maybe for Kaveh, it was more akin to being grounded for the first time in years, letting his wings rest while he's revitalized.

Kaveh makes a noise in inquiry when he hears the scribe hum, blinking his bleary eyes to gain some focus. All he knows is that Alhaitham is pleased with something, and he hopes that it's with Kaveh. Drives me crazy. He huffs a laugh, thinking about how they truly were unhinged beyond hope. He let himself think about the absurdity of this situation for just a second, dramatic to the point anyone passing and looking from the outside would call them insane. He didn't care about it, nor did he want to think about it right now. Instead, he lets out a muted shout when he is bitten, burying his nose into the scribe's hair when Alhaitham kisses over it in apology, making his heart leap up to his throat. It's not long before he feels the other's length breach his hole and Kaveh lets out a long-drawn sigh, arms tightening around the man as he tries to relax. But it's near impossible when he has Alhaitham's voice right in his ear, groaning so clearly with pleasure it makes his heart race impossibly fast, his whole form trembling like a leaf on top of the scribe, lips parting as he lets out his own little moans. "Ha-h...iyi..." The push is slow, excruciatingly hot, Kaveh fears he'll be burned from the inside out. He feels a wet sob escape his throat when he feels it grow inside him, stretched so tight he feels his rim burn with every short thrust inside. It seems to never end, and Kaveh is muttering Alhaitham's name in soft moans as he holds on for dear life. It's always the start that's the hardest, his ass so full it's foreign, so intensely hot he's unsure if he's not burning up, and too sensitive all at once.

But it's not a bad feeling.

It's like being pumped full of serotonin once he's remembered to breathe, giggling when he's caught enough air. He's connected with Alhaitham again, so deep in him that Kaveh swears he could feel him up in his throat for how full he felt, even though he knew that was physically impossible. But more than that, he feels happiness fill his chest when he's this close to him, held in his arms and surrounded by his scent, wanted carnally and he hopes, for more than that. The blond pants heavily as he gets used to the girth filling him, whining when he shifts and stretches his hole more than he could take, throwing his head forward into the mattress next to the scribe's head, muffling the sounds that kept coming from his mouth. When he rolls his hips once to test his balance, he moans a filthy wet sound right into Alhaitham's ear, and he sobers up enough to feel embarrassed of himself, ears turning a bright red. Kaveh blushed on his face, down to his shoulders. His ears tended to stay mostly pale, but this was pushing it, blood rushing to his face as his hips defy his mind and continue their gentle rolls back and forth.

"Wa- wait... Too full," he complains, slowly pushing himself up with his arms till he's kneeling on shaky legs, eyes barely kept open as he tries to get a lung full of air through parted lips.

Alhaitham is below him, a familiar sight with his skin red and chest rising and falling with speed. Adorable... Kaveh lowers his hips till he sits till he's pressed flush against his groin, throwing his head back as he lets out a groan. "So full... S- so good." He's still coherent enough to mutter, lashes fluttering as he looks down at the scribe, letting his hands wander on his abdomen and chest, playing with the glowing gem right below his collarbone with a serene smile spread on his face as his chest fills with giddiness and joy, feeling an unspoken connection aside from the physical. Do you feel the same way? But he's unable to ask the question, a coward in the moment as he caresses his neck, holds his jaw as he leans down, and opens his mouth for a wet kiss with tongue. "Let me." A soft request he mutters against his lips before he's sitting up once more, hands reaching back to hold muscular thighs and he shifts to get comfortable. Kaveh raises his torso, shivering as he feels his insides become empty until he lowers his hips and is so full again, letting out a breathy whimper. Gripping on tight with his fingers, he starts to bounce on the man, dropping his weight onto his length and moaning loudly as he starts to gain rhythm, eyes shut tight and his head tossed back, feeling every push and pull inside him. The angle makes it hard for him to move, so he stops to bend forward, his hands on Alhaitham's chest as he flexes his legs to bounce on him again in the new position, crimson looking straight at teal eyes as he lets out lewd noises from deep in his lungs, punched out and pitched high each time he drops himself onto the scribe's groin, his insides squeezing down as he grinds forward to reach that one spot that made his sight go white and spark.

Kaveh can barely see with the pleasure blinding him, tossing his head when he thrust his hips down just right and feels pleasure shoot through him. He finds the perfect angle and continues to bully it, shaking his head with desperate keens as it builds and builds. When a scream rips past his throat, he slaps one hand to his mouth and bites on his fingers as he gets overwhelmed, trembling like a leaf as he rides Alhaitham and abuses his insides, raw and aching, pleasure coiling so tight low in his stomach he's a touch away from coming undone. "Haiyi- Haiyi! Ah, fuck..! I-" Kaveh speaks muffled against his fingers, still stuffing them in his mouth, the pain from teeth the only thing keeping him sane as everything else blurs into pure bliss, red eyes somehow finding the man's so he can convey his desperation, communicate with the soul behind them as he pulls words from his scrambled mind. "Want! I want. Want you to press me down. Please!"

[hancfubuki]

Bothering Kaveh is honestly his favorite activity. His attempts to make him a flustered mess being always successful. To notice how his face suddenly turns red due his hands wandering across body-- Alhaitham is not one for aesthetics and even if he knows about art he pretends he doesn't, just to continue with his little scheme of purposely wanting to irritate the blonde. His body, though, he worships it as if it was the finest sculpture around the house. It's been long for him, since the last time he was able to have Kaveh in his arms like this. It didn't help that his perfectly rounded and cute butt was always so inviting to grab. Whenever he had the chance, while kissing, while talking. There were moments in which he had the urge to make him sit on his lap, facing each other and continuing their argument, wanting to grope at those cheeks whenever he corrected his wrong philosophy to hear complaints in return.

Perhaps he is blinded by love. Because seeing him all flustered and angry is enough to cause something in the scribe. As someone who is bothered by noise, he doesn't really feel repulsed at the idea of Kaveh raising his beautiful voice while his cheeks turn into a dusty pink. The bickering is with double purpose, not only to make Kaveh feeling comfortable in their own house, but also because seeing him mad and bothered brings gratification to Alhaitham. He could pass as a sadist, actually. But the more exasperated the blonde got, the more Haitham enjoyed the encounter.

As his own expression breaks into one full of pleasure, his hands keep wandering on his body. The delicate touches beneath the shirt, caressing the skin so delicately in contrast to his kisses. He started out slow, but gradually started changing the pace to a most possessive one. Nibbling and biting, slippery kisses turning messy as the seconds pass. Hips grinding softly against him, soft and hot, not having any intentions to go further by now and simply wanting to test him and test himself. A situation that made him curse his own self-control, because if he was more like Kaveh, he would be whimpering already under his body. Moans of his own escaping softly, muffled whenever their lips met again in fervent movements. Tongue exploring the cavern that once was so familiar, yet still making sure to not rushing the contact as he wants to enjoy every single second of it. It was when Kaveh broke the kiss, laughter coming out from his swollen lips that made Haitham realized how touch-starved he actually is. His expression quickly changed, brows furrowing again yet not in pleasure as before, but in disgust. He wants him back. He wants him close. He wants more.

"What's so funny?" He would pout, but he is not going to give that satisfaction to Kaveh. Instead his hands comfortably rest on his waist, pinching at the sides in his own way to scold him. A scoff leaves from the back of his throat as soon as his face is cupped, lips once again being pressed on his face. How the tables have turned, now he is the flushed one. Not even realizing when the faint blush appeared all over his cheeks. "Now you're just flirting with me," He retorts in an attempt to regain his composure. And that, of course, meant arguing and giving a short explaining of why Kaveh is wrong. "I needed you to sober up, therefore the bitter coffee. On top of that, you pride yourself in knowing art. Brewing coffee IS also an art, so adding other ingredients such as milk and lots of sugar will only ruin the magnificent flavor each bean possess." What a nerd. But Kaveh receives a fleeting smile coming from the scholar instead. Funny banter, if he dares to stop what's probably the only kiss they'll exchange in a very long time, then he can play along.

Though this little speech it's given while his eyelids fall close upon feeling the contact of his lips against his jaw. It tickles, but it's enjoyable. Something he has been yearning for a long time as his own fingers travel delicately along the skin of his back, touching his spine on purpose to make his back to arche. And yet again, he is pushed away.

Instead of jumping to conclusions, Haitham decides to observe. Huge mistake. He is staring, astonished, dumbfounded, teal orbs following the movements of his hands and how they toss the shirt away from his body. If Kaveh initially wanted his entire attention, then he was able to do it. Alhaitham is now interested, fully focused on him and making him forget about his surroundings. Damn this man. He looked innocent, but he was a threat. Someone that's obviously trying to make him surrender before temptation, and he is succeeding. Starting from the way he moves, so enticing, his hips moving against his in a desperate attempt to ask for more.

"Hmm~" Alhaitham often showed emotion with a simple hum. The tone of it always varying according to the situation. This time it is a sound of affirmation: 'I see you, and I like what I see.' Completely delighted at the sight, there's no hesitation this time as his hands once again find their way all over his body, but no pulling closer, just yet, as he wants the teasing between them to continue. Work him up. It's a dare. "Yes?" He replies after his name is called the first time. Hands once again carefully placed on his butt, grasping, pressing strongly, attempting to leave finger marks through the clothing. "What do you want, dear?" I need consent. He is trying to say.

By any means, he wanted to take advantage of a drunk man. It didn't matter if it was his old lover, his roommate, someone he trusted deeply enough. In fact, that's the main reason why Haitham is currently so conflicted. He knows he is allowed to, Kaveh is being vocal right now, and his actions are showing what he truly wants. Years of sexual tension building up to inevitably reach this moment, yet the idea of Kaveh only realizing they have been holding back for so long while drunk, was discouraging for the scribe. He wants this to happen when he is sober and could remember, think properly before acting, a mutual agreement even if it doesn't mean to go back together. Haitham would be okay with a strictly physical relationship. He is also okay with their current relationship as well. As long as Kaveh is close, he doesn't mind in which form their interactions present. But thinking about the possibilities and consequences make him realize this could completely ruin whatever they have right now. Or in worst case scenario, Kaveh would not remember and he will have to live with the painful guilt carried on his shoulders.

Oh, Kaveh. Haitham didn't care for divinities, but he once read a book about temptation in humanity, and how history and religion had to label it as the influence of demons because they did not want to take responsibility on their actions. This is how a demon would look like, according to those descriptions. A beautiful disaster, who smells like wine. Golden hair and bright red eyes-- red. The color of passion, associated with sacrifice, danger, heat, sexuality, anger and joy. Really fitting, considering Kaveh is able to evoke all of those emotions in him.

And so, he gives in. Nails softly digging at his skin, pulling him by the waist once more as his hips grind against him, causing friction between their heated bodies. "Your beauty is so captivating." He mumbles softly, hot breath hitting the skin of his neck before his lips move to attach the flesh, knowing praise will always be the way to go with Kaveh. "You drive me crazy." Open-mouthed kisses being pressed, casually biting and sucking to leave marks on purpose. He is going to remember somehow, and Haitham is willing to leave traces of this encounter.

"Are you sober yet?" The important question, still leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to his neck, focusing on his collarbone and hands crossing down his thigh. He doesn't mind to extend the foreplay a little if necessary. Keeping Kaveh awake instantly becoming a task for him. "We can pretend nothing happened. I don't care. We don't need to talk about this later." The little mind games the blonde is playing working right away. Haitham is being honest, and will vocally express what he wants or needs just for one night. "I really want you, Kaveh. I need you."

"I miss you."

The moment Alhaitham's touches go from innocent to anywhere close to indecent, Kaveh knew he had won. It wasn't even supposed to be a competition, but it wouldn't be them if they weren't at least a little competitive about something. So, Kaveh will smile wide, proud of himself at the way the scribe's hands wander on his body now, warm on his thighs in an almost comforting way before they moved, moved, and he groans, muffled by his own lips, tilting his head when he kneads his backside, pouting later because this wasn't even new. He himself honestly can't be sure what it was with his groping his butt, but even if he whines and complains, Kaveh actually likes it-- the way it kind of feels good and hurts a bit. Not that he'd ever tell Alhaitham, because he simply won't. That's too much power for the man. Kaveh simply doesn't need to know his face says it all, that he does.

Besides, how could he ever complain when he's met with the curl of lips from Alhaitham, eyes wrinkled slightly from the smallest hint of a change but it's so much when it's him. Then, he's giggling. Kaveh thinks his soul left him for a good minute because he's unable to really understand what else he had done next. He's touching him, kissing, breathing loudly as he tries his best to be tender, and gentle in the way his lips touch his and brush. But he's wanting, he desires more.

So he basks in delight when he catches a glimpse of Alhaitham's stoic expression breaking, the way his brows crease and face contort as he tugs at his hair. So hot. So cute. Kaveh loves when he sees him break, anything aside from the unfeeling mask he puts on as he lives through his day, the smug smirks that irk him to no end. He likes it when he can find a weakness. There is still hesitation sometimes, feeling a bit too sadistic for the thoughts he has until he realizes this was the best way to get a man like Alhaitham honest. To bring him as much pleasure not just physically, but mentally. Kaveh soothes him after but keeps his grip to make sure he stays there, fingers massaging his scalp to get rid of the ache and tickling his neck, touching where he knew the other was sensitive as he continues to kiss him.

Kaveh lets Alhaitham move him as he pleases, trusting him to be able to carry him in any way he'd like. He blushes harder when he makes a whimpering sound in his mouth, nearly running away when he's pulled by the legs, so close he's pressed up against him and Alhaitham, the bastard, grinds against him. Talk about wishes come true, his vision had become real and he can't help the way it turns him on. He groans as he bites at the other's tongue, feelings heated hands crawl under his shirt and touch his skin. The material was thin, hanging out of his pants and he shivers when he touches anywhere sensitive. Kaveh goes lax, letting Alhaitham's hands support him as he kisses like his life depends on it, loving, desperate, hot, and a bit wet. It was sweet like honey, his favorite wine on his lips still only making him more hungry.

The architect can't help but notice his touches are a bit too hard, maybe angry. It reminds him of why he was in such a bad mood in the first place-- because Alhaitham was in a bad mood. Of course, he was influenced by him. What was he so angry about anyways? Here, as he's got free reign to touch Kaveh however he wants, being kissed till their breaths are mere pants and Kaveh's lungs feel like they're burning each time Alhaitham kisses and bites a moan out of him. But he thinks it's less of an anger towards him, maybe just... Possessive? Alhaitham did care a lot about his own things. He can't for even a second comprehend why such an emotion would happen. The tavern... What had happened at the tavern again?

Kaveh thinks of the man he was drinking with, and he wonders. It... No way. Alhaitham? He can't believe it at all. Jealousy?

A thought so impossibly delusional, he thinks, and it makes him laugh out loud. So much, he needs to take a break from kissing the man, pushing him away to laugh into a hand. Alhaitham jealous of a random man Kaveh can't even remember the name of. Or even what he looked like, honestly. What color were his eyes again? Green? Orange? He doesn't even care anymore. Kaveh would rather spend what little energy he has in making sure Alhaitham keeps his attention on him, making him feel wanted, good, and all his.

"I'd rather learn to make the best cup of coffee in the world in ten minutes than deal with your grumbling in the morning," he giggles back, pecking the other's lips, his face, and cupping his face lovingly to show he was teasing him. "You're in luck, because I make good coffee. Unlike the bitter thing you gave me just now." But he wishes Alhaitham will understand. He'd rather that than even suggest leaving. After all, even if it's true Alhaitham had an even worse mood in the morning if he didn't get enough sleep, Kaveh would take that over waking up in an empty house, all alone and quiet in an apartment with too many memories but no one to share it with. If anything, he loved their morning routine of eating breakfast together, whoever awake first (or hasn't slept yet, in Kaveh's case) makes the coffee and they drink it quietly as Kaveh munches on some fresh fruit littered around the house, his favorite thing to snack on. If Alhaitham had a book, he might even call him great company to fill the void.

The sentimentality of it makes Kaveh want to cry with how much he loves him, how grateful of the home that they're in right now, he tries to distract himself with kisses along Alhaitham's jaw, biting with teeth but only gently, like a playful gnaw from puppies when they love you.

Kaveh decides he's too hot, so he shoos the scribe's hands away for a second, swatting at them to let him go so he could grab at the bottom of his shirt and pull it over his head. Kaveh decides to make a show of it, arching his body in a way he knew was sensual, a smile on his lips, his skin pulled taut with lean muscle showing in a way he knew always caught his attention. He couldn't beat Alhaitham in a match of muscle mass, but he could definitely try his best to look beautiful while undressing. He grinds his hips down, a retaliation for all that Alhaitham has done to him-- and he fails to stop the smirk on his lips as he doesn't stop, continuing to move his hips to a slow rhythm, one leg wrapped around his hip pulling him closer, tossing his head back and screwing his eyes shut when a particularly nice angle makes his breath stutter, whining at Alhaitham, urging him to drag Kaveh because this was nowhere near enough.

"Haitham-" Kaveh lets out a breathy sound, hands holding onto his shoulders tightly as he moves his hips, looking down at the man with light in his red eyes focused on just him. "Haitham..." Yours, yours to do whatever you want.

[hancfubuki]

He has never been bothered by uncomfortable social interactions, in fact, he never cared about them. The complexity of relationships has been a concept Haitham was able to grasp at a really young age. Needless to say, he decided to choose the path of tranquility by getting involved in very few situations like these that certainly offered some type of benefit, or simply became a subject of his interest. Haitham was a routine enjoyer, his life was considered boring and he liked that. Though, despite this particular preference, his life has been filled with drama thanks to certain someone that was able to drive him crazy.

His memory was exceptionally good, however Alhaitham is not able to tell for how long he has been dancing this tango with Kaveh. What he presumes to be friendly banter, seems to be a whole new level of personal interest to his counterpart. Kaveh is overly-sensitive-- a man-child Haitham dared to say. An idealist with his feet far away from the ground and his head buried deep inside in the clouds. And those were the few things that truly bothered Alhaitham. No. Not because of the difference between their philosophies, but mostly because of how hard looking after him has become. It didn't matter how much he tried to show the architect how he still cares about him. How he loves him, how he's still the only one in his eyes. What started as a simple crush suspected to be some kind of illness, had become into some sort of fascination. The flustered face of his senior being always a delight for his eyes. He could tell they grew together. Kaveh saw him developing such feelings and not holding back when he had the need to act clingy and possessive. How they used to spoil each other after some heated argument.

His eyebrow raises in question, not showing signs of struggle as he allows Kaveh to keep the hold in his wrist. Hot. It's been long since he was able to appreciate that cocky tone and look in his face. His own hand keeps crawling up his shirt, fingertips still delicately caressing him upon listening to the moan. Ah, yes. The only type of noise Alhaitham was able to enjoy. Like music to his ears, causing an over-confident smirk to emerge from his lips. "You asked me to treat you nicely. I'd rather follow the demands instead of having unnecessary protests coming from your intoxicated brain." His voice is sarcastic, teasingly. Showing the pleasantness through his eyes as he allows his hand to be slowly put down. Another squeeze as soon as his palm touches his thigh.

Temptation. That's the word he has been looking for from the top of his head. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a form of a gratified sigh, Alhaitham fixes his body on the couch, a strong grip as now both of his hands are on his thighs, keeping him steady so he could get closer to his body. And if the situation might have been different, then his hands would be caressing such places that he was allowed to touch very long time ago. Yet again, tempted, but Haitham didn't like to think he was taking advantage of a very drunk man. Despite knowing him for so long, despite memorizing his body and his weak spots. If it has to happen, it will happen some day.

Though, sadly this fervent moment doesn't seem to last longer. The old nickname resounding in his ears once again. "Yes?" He decides to reply this time, fully focused on his companion as he noted the shift in the mood. There it goes, the rollercoaster again. Predictable, yet unable to tell in which order the mood swings will appear. It only takes a second for Haitham to understand that Kaveh has reached his known 'self-conscious' mode, in which he judged himself extremely hard upon hearing compliments. And that's the whole issue between them. Alhaitham knows well what he likes, even when Kaveh feels guilty and indebted and keeps thinking lowly of him, whenever they were intimate Haitham noted he enjoyed the excessive praise. But nowadays in the present, he is unable to say a single good thing about him without the other feeling anxious over it. Ugh. Even in this moments he's irresistible. Or perhaps Haitham is simply weak over anything that has to do with Kaveh.

The smell of the sweet wine is lingering, the hot breath escaping the lips that are so close to his evoking certain emotions in Alhaitham. Push him away. That's all he hears in his head. A rational and normal response from him, not acting impulsive nor yielding to his desires. Haitham finds his own fingers holding softly the sides of the blonde's face.

"Are you about to cry? You really are over-sensitive being, Kaveh." Words that the other might consider harsh, even though his tone was sweet and captivating. Those are the futile attempts Haitham pull to push him aside, yet something is truth, and it's the fact he cannot resist a pleading look. He looks so desperate and touch-starved, evoking a sadistic side on Haitham who is eager to push for more. He moves his face as he pleases, getting closer as his lips carefully hover below his eyes, on his cheeks, placing a soft kiss there. "My over-sensitive, stubborn and beautiful senior." Lips so close to lock with each other's, but he stops himself from shortening the distance despite of how much he wants to. "You are beautiful, my dearest." He could repeat it all night long, as many times as Kaveh wanted to hear it. "You're the most gorgeous, the most insanely beautiful being I've ever laid my eyes upon, with and without flaws. Imperfectly perfect. My other half." And my heart still yearns for you. The silent confession, spoken solely through his delicate touch. Face being cupped for Kaveh to finally understand his worth and his place in Alhaitham's heart.

But this is nothing more than a fabricated fantasy they both are building. There's no 'what ifs' in this life, even when Haitham knows they belong together. Kaveh broke up with him, and no one or nothing could erase that part of their story.

"Don't do anything you would regret in the morning." And still, there's almost no distance between them. They are so unbelievable close Haitham could swear he could listening to his breathing. "I'll say it just one time: don't make this more difficult than it already is." Moments like these made him realize, he wished for some sort of impulsivity from time to time. "And if you choose to avoid my warnings, be aware I want you to remember."

Alhaitham looks so handsome.

Kaveh knows for a fact that the scribe was a handsome man-- Has known it for a long time. He also knows that he is pretty, his lashes long and plenty, even if they were slightly shorter than his own. Despite being so drunk, he can remember the many days and nights he had spent staring at his face, specifically his eyes, trying to figure out each and every shade of green and orange in his iris, remembering the embarrassing sketches he had made with color codes of his predictions he scribbled down just so he could go check it out and test his theory later on. It was by pure luck the other hadn't found out about that little part- though he never hid the fact that he liked to sketch him. So pretty, so handsome, and so cute as well. His little bookworm.

Not so little anymore, but this is just fine by him. Now he was a different kind of handsome. Sharper edges, eyes narrowed, and less expressive in emotion but never lacking in its luster. Also how much his body had grown- Kaveh will never understand this part of his growth spurt. Sure, Alhaitham had started growing while they spent their days together, ate more day by day, and had slowly grown to his height, but he didn't expect to see him years later buff like he was about to join the eremites the next day. Food for thought, how nice he would look in those revealing outfits with his nice stomach and chest, draped in dark red colors to contrast the grey and teal of his hair and highlight the red diamond in his eyes. It makes him smile more, leaning down mostly because his head was too heavy to keep up.

"Let go?" He repeats, blinking his eyes open and looking at him curiously. Why should he, when he liked Alhaitham like this? He liked the way his arm flexed when he pulled it up high, the control he felt when he could pin him in place with a hand and gaze alone. Kaveh had never understood why it worked, but he had loved it and still loves it now. Especially with the way his hand fit perfectly on his waist, keeping him warm and comfortable. That was a change too. His hands were so big now compared to the childishly small ones that used to hold his hand, or caressing his face when they kissed after arguing for hours in the House of Deana, a clash of opinions until Kaveh was near boiling point and Alhaitham vexed. To calm down, they would start making out in the shadows, somewhere between bookcases and a pillar, sweet touches and apologies for raising his voice mixed with heated breath to show that scholarly debates wouldn't change their affection for each other. Why would he ever let go of Alhaitham?

Oh, but the promise of being held is good.

He's sure if Alhaitham held him now, it would be so warm and comfortable. He's not sure if it would be soft, but with their difference in stature, he would surely fit just right, completely engulfed by his arms and torso, safe...

Before he could think further, he feels the hand on his waist squeeze him, delicately caressing his sides in a way that tickled. It made him laugh softly, squeezing the scribe's wrist for support as he tosses his head to one side, trying to hide the way he shivered at the ticklish feeling by closing his eyes. If he can't see it, then it isn't real. But it doesn't stop-- the hand keeps moving, warm, or maybe just really hot, searing when skin meets skin from the low cut of his back. "Mm..." The fingers brushing against his spine still tickle, but they become firm enough that he arches his back, not quite sure how to move but knowing his goal was to get his touch closer, breathing out a shaky moan when his whole hand covers a part of his back. It's so nice, he likes it a lot. He wants more of that actually and his brain sings, pleased, reminding him what Alhaitham asked of him seconds too late.

"Only because you seem so eager and asked nicely." Which he did. Alhaitham was being so nice to him, Kaveh was sure this was all a dream. Which again, is silly. His Haitham had always been nice to him when they were all alone without anything to argue over. It also wasn't a lie that he knew the other's eagerness. The gem on his chest said it all, and Kaveh prides himself on being one of the few people to know this secret. Deciding not to mull over the unimportant things, he slowly brings their hands down, letting it go after he puts it down on his thigh, wanting the man to pull Kaveh closer, and he would get it no matter what it took. Alhaitham was weak for his pleading look, right? Then that's what he will do, he thinks as he smiles to himself instead. It's a bit hard to control his expressions when he's so floaty from his drinks, body numbed and just barely keeping up with his brain.

What did you say? Kaveh says in his head, unable to move his lips the way he wants. He's confused because Alhaitham had said something and he hadn't heard it. But when he opens his eyes and stares at teal and red eyes boring into his as if he could stare into his soul, he has to pay attention to how his lips move. So pretty and soft-looking as he speaks...

Wait, beautiful?

"Haiyi...?"

Anyone looking would probably find the look on his face amusing, the wide eyes shining, a bit unfocused from liquor but bright and face flushed, surprise in the most comical, animated way one could make such a face. Kaveh simply was that shocked, but also a troubled crease between his brows. He couldn't figure out why. Alhaitham would never call him that. Not anymore. He wouldn't see him as 'beautiful'. He knows Kaveh is ugly, hot-headed, and too driven by passion it scared others, but also made him an easy target. Alhaitham knows he was broken once, despite the beautiful gold casting him back into one piece, and despite Kaveh's belief in himself, sometimes he is run down by his words, reminding him he was idealizing life too much, he was not good enough, without common sense--- a dreamer who will fall from grace. But then again, when had Haiyi not told him he was pretty when they were intimate, brushing skin and touching lips chastely as he looked at him with tenderness reserved especially for him only? No amount of thinking could be done clearly at the moment, so Kaveh simply has to accept the way his breath way constricts, barely breathing when he raises his hands to hold the scholar's face gently as if he was a sculpture molded of sand-- one touch, and he would crumble into grains slipping through his fingers. His chest is so full, so so full of love and happiness he could cry.

He misses this. He doesn't understand why he misses something he already has, but he knows he does.

"-ime..." Kaveh whispers, head falling forward further as it gets too heavy for his failing strength. But it's good enough, he wants to be close to Alhaitham when he speaks. His fingers shake, unshed tears in his eyes matching the pain in his chest as starts to feel vulnerable in his presence, starts showing his tender feelings through his eyes, through touch, don't hurt me he screams in the way he lets his thumb brush his cheek and the way their lips are so close he could also smell the lingering sweetness of wine in his breath, eyes half-lidded as they stare into teal, nearing a kiss. He won't, he won't... "One more time."

Kaveh knows it's precious. No one else could say the same thing and mean it the same way, not when they didn't understand him the way Alhaitham did.

[hancfubuki]

This entire situation is something Alhaitham would dare to call a 'normal occurrence'. He knows Kaveh as the palm of his hand, being able to predict his movements and words as the other is easy to read. It also provokes him to miss the silence that previously was flooding the room. A sigh. His eyes focusing on the book, as the sound of the pages being turned complemented the rant. He was used to it, and even when it seems he's not paying attention, Alhaitham made sure not to forget any single word coming from his roommate's mouth.

Haitham could sit through hours listening to Kaveh complaining about his clients. A misunderstood and stubborn genius, a title that he had come up with whenever he hears the other is fighting, yet again, with potential commissioners. A little bit problematic, if someone asked him, yet at the same time, it was an admirable quality to be so true to his own convictions. The usual normal human behavior would be doing anything in exchange of cash. Not Kaveh. He always prefers to dwell in his own little bubble, complaining about being misunderstood and then having to look desperately for some mora to spend. 'It must be an artist thing.' Is the thought that Haitham usually gets in his head when the other starts ranting. A behavior he has studied for so long already yet is unable to grasp the root cause of it. Some things do not have answers though, that was the conclusion he reached. But something he learned? Kaveh really is one of a kind.

As he reads the book, Haitham follows his movements with the corner of his eyes. Barely noticeable, especially for someone as drunk as Kaveh who probably couldn't tell all he's doing is worrying about him. Such a genius, so dense. "I am not criticizing you. I am speaking facts." He retorts, eyes fully returning to the book, appearing unbothered as always even though deep inside he's starting to feel a bit annoying the other couldn't listen for once.

Haitham was no better than him, he usually also had a lot to drink, but at least he did drink under his limits. Kaveh? A light-weight with no sense of responsibility. How was he supposed not to scold him when the blonde acted like that? Pushing him aside had also been a normal custom to him. Haitham found himself being forced to act sassy and blunt for the other to remain comfortable in the house. He didn't dare to suggest solutions, or to even offer to stay for free as he would only feel more indebted. But... their relationship was far more complicated than that. Suppressed feelings and forgotten relationships, anyone at Akademiya could tell what they really were. Not a simple pair arguing at the library, as those arguments were often followed by make out sessions in order to remind each other how much they cared. That's no longer accepted. There was no space for Alhaitham to simply hold him and shower him with affection and compliments to make him feel better. At least not sober. If we were to do that again, it could probably make Kaveh to leave the house or stay at Tighnari's for a very long time. And as far as he's concerned, there was no need to burden the other scholar.

The erratic behavior is able to call Haitham's attention, an intrigued look appears on his face, but still quietly following his movements. It appears he is focused in the book, but in reality he's caught staring for a few seconds what Kaveh is doing. Taking everything off, it seems like it's finally time to sleep, leading him to believe he will finally have silence again. Or not. Haitham tries to predict what he is going to do, but decides to give up upon seeing what Kaveh was doing with his cape. Cute. He acted so silly when drunk, probably the few times he is able to see him acting so lively without caring about the burdens being carried on his shoulders. And for a moment, he longs for the past. The unforeseen weight of Kaveh's face over his shoulder is enough to trigger his heart to beat faster in his chest. Haitham couldn't say he experimented strong emotions often, but whenever Kaveh was around his heart seems to fasten its beating rate. At first, when he was younger, he believed he was sick until he finally understood what it meant. Love. He was terribly in love with Kaveh. Always had been, and always will be.

Haitham was born with a gemstone embedded in his chest. A gift inherited from his father, as far as his grandmother told him. There was no recollection of data stating where it came from, how his family got it. He did have some memories of his grandmother explaining it could be Deshrian, but Haitham never cared for gods, kings, or divinities. In short words, he didn't care about it, and there was never ambitious to find out why he had that gem in his body. The only particular function it seemed to have was to channel his emotions. Exposing him in the naked eye as it tends to glow whenever he felt a strong emotion. Nobody could tell though, what kind of emotion it was. It always glows the same, and it's hard to perceive when exposed at natural lightning. But as soon as he met Kaveh, it was always glowing. This was enough for him to understand his feelings towards the Light of Kshahrewar. Or rather, and quite literally, the light of his life.

He feels the world stopping for a second. Even when he holds pride in being able to predict the other, he had to admit drunken Kaveh was a menace to him. He gulps as soon as he feels his wrist being grasped, the weight of his hand against his shoulders provoking his body to stiff for a few seconds. His gaze meets red eyes, almost feeling absorbed by them as his lips parted in an attempt to say something. Yet no words come from his mouth. He is stunned, dumbfounded and not only by the beauty of the smile adorning the architect's face, but because of the endearing nickname he had chosen for him.

Unfair. It feels unfair how they are still so close yet so far from each other. Unfair when he gets to experiment this side of Kaveh only when drunk. Haitham did not like living off the past, Haitham did not like to overthink and sigh thinking about memories. Haitham did not stand being apart of him. He yearned for the past, very deep inside his heart and for a moment, he feels embarrassed the gem would not stop glowing. His eyes soften up, taking the freedom to place his free hand on Kaveh's waist, which perfectly fit, like a missed puzzle part, as if it was made for him and his hands only. "Could you let go of my wrist?" His voice also came softer, not breaking eye contact while giving a soft squeeze to his waist. It made him remember the man at the tavern, causing his blood to boil for a moment. What could have happened if he didn't pick him up? He's feeling possessive, coming to terms with his feelings and understanding he wants this sight only for his eyes to see. How dare someone flirted with his man?

"I can't hold you properly if you don't let go of my wrist." Damn. He's weak. He's very weak for that smile, for those flushed cheeks, for the golden locks of hair falling off his face. He wants to take them away, cup his face dearly and kiss those plum lips. But he mustn't. He can't. And it did hurt the fact Haitham knew Kaveh will not remember anything the following morning. His fingertips danced across his waist, crawling up and creeping from the back window of his shirt, delicately caressing the skin as the weight of his own cape fell over his hand. He knows he should push him away, remind himself there's no longer anything between them anymore.

Is he allowed to be irrational and delusional for just one night?

"I am looking at you." His face is as calm as ever, not showing hesitation as a smile of his own appears on his lips. Praise and his undivided attention. That's what he wants, right?

"You look beautiful tonight, Kaveh."

The world bobs with each step Alhaitham takes, and Kaveh is simply in for the ride that he's being dragged along with.

In reality, it was the scribe who was being forced with Kaveh being the drunk that he is, having to take him home before he gets in trouble or self-implodes somehow with the things he does. However, Kaveh will simply make whining noises of discomfort and curl up, probably making it even harder for the man to carry him if it weren't for how slight his figure was, or how muscular Alhaitham was. What was with that anyways? He used to be so small, so cute. Still rounded cheeks and short for even his age, pretty face gazing up at Kaveh who was definitely at least a head taller. Maybe not that much, but Alhaitham had to gaze up at him back then. It had been adorable, prompting him to pat the boy's hair so often just to see his reaction.

Kaveh thinks he heard a soft voice, but before he could think of it or even dismiss it, the world spins yet again as he's suddenly lifted up and put down, feeling like a cat when he's manipulated around like one. But he's happy that his hip and lower belly aren't pressed against his shoulder anymore. It was so hard and uncomfortable, he thinks that's why he felt a bit sick just now, wondering if he will bruise. The moment Alhaitham lets go of him, making him stand on his own two feet, Kaveh finds his feet stumbling once, catching himself and blinking quietly. He could barely keep his eyes open, cheeks flushed with alcohol and the cold, hugging himself when the wind blows extra hard, seeping right through the holes in his shirt.

"Mm...?" He hums once, feeling warm when an extra cape is wrapped around him. Oh, it's so warm, smells like his incense, and when he's lifted up, he can specifically smell Alhaitham, so he feels himself get drowsy and his head hit the man's chest as red eyes close from the world. It's comfortable now, warm and cozy enough he's losing the strength to even pretend to be awake, body going slack as he truly falls asleep for the few minutes it takes to get back home.

The next time he's awake to the world, he's already laying on the couch at home, blinking his eyes blearily as he sits up, hands still holding the extra cape tightly around himself. Alhaitham is gone, but after another two blinks he's passing by him to sit next to him, a book out for a leisurely read. The coffee he's made for him is there, right in front of him, so he picks it up to take a sip, the warmth filling him and the taste... "Urgh, so bitter..." He could get sober from that alone if he hadn't drunk in excess. But he takes one more sip, thirsty after all the alcohol he drank, but couldn't take any more than that.

"Do you never have anything better to say? Always criticizing me for my actions." Kaveh is retorting, barely any bite in his words when he can't muster the energy to sound scary or angry, but he makes a face as he puts his cup down. "I know I shouldn't... I guess. Even Tighnari got angry when he caught me once. But the client today was an idiot. He said... That he didn't want the paint! Amateurs and their-" He hiccups, puts both hands over his mouth with eyes wide in surprise, then ends up tumbling into giggles at the silliness of it. Kaveh stills, humming with his eyes closed as he slowly sways, but then remembers he was in the middle of an argument, and the furrow between his brows is back and his red eyes zero in on the table in front of them. "He said, 'That paint is too expensive'! This is a rich merchant who has more money to throw than most people in Sumeru can even dream of holding and- Can you believe it? He says this after asking me for a very specific shade of carmine that cannot be created without using materials from that manufacturer. It's special, it's a new color that was created and no one else has it but them! It's made with materials from the desert, far away and dangerous to get and people need to go out farming for the materials for it to be made in the searing desert. If you want it, then of course you have to pay for the paint. He even had the gall to ask if I can't just create the color myself?! I'm an architect, not a pigment manufacturer! I am not color matching 30 buckets of paint! Then, he says that he hates the roof. The roof! It had the most beautiful symmetry I was able to draw in months! I'll tear down that roof and show him what it's like sleeping without one then!!!"

Kaveh has a fist formed and he slams it on the divan he sits on, but it hurts enough that he yelps, and tears form in his eyes. That hurt. So the architect now rubs at the side of his hand, and soon forgets what he was even angry about, having let out all the steam from the day's woes. He was also so warm after getting heated.

Kaveh stands straight up, letting go of Alhaitham's cape. Soon, he's unclipping his own cape, tugging off his belts and accessories, pulling his shoes off, and putting them all aside, folded as neatly as his bleary gaze would let him. He's clad in his thin loose shirt, pants, and bare feet and sits back down, looking at nothing as he tries to assess his own feelings. After a moment, he tugs Alhaitham's cape over himself again, feeling a bit cold and exposed. But it's warm, so he pulls it over his head, tugging and pinching it under his chin. A warm laugh bubbles out of him, rubbing his cheek as the silver and gold metal tinkle over his hair, looking like accessories as he tilts his head to the side so he could hear it tinkle, making his brain fuzzy with simple happiness.

Even when he lets go of the cape, it continues to drape over him even as he crawls closer to the scribe. "Hey, did you listen to me?" That's definitely a complaint, distracted as he peeks over Alhaitham's shoulder to look at the book. The words are completely blurred in his vision, and he has no chance of being able to understand any of them. But it smells nice here, the scent of coffee and warmth seeping from the man. He leans in, buries his face in his shoulder... Then immediately sits up. Which doesn't last long at all, a whine on his lips. He wants more warmth, he also had so much to say, but of course, Alhaitham is more interested in his book. But he was having none of it if he had a say in things. So, Kaveh grabs hold of Alhaitham's wrist, pushing the hand with the book away from his face. It's so easy, for him to climb on his lap and glare down at him, continuing to keep his wrist suspended in the air. Oh, now that's more like it. Haitham under him so Kaveh can look down. And since Alhaitham has no choice but to look at him... He breaks into a drunken smile as he holds his shoulder with his leftover hand.

"Finally, you're looking at me, Haiyi."

Mine. Mine mine mine. A long-forgotten form of endearment slips through his lips so naturally, he doesn't even find it out of place. Alhaitham was all his, not even that book got to steal his attention when he was right here. Thankfully, he would probably not remember this come tomorrow.

[hancfubuki]

Every single word escaping from the architect's mouth were a predictable statement for Haitham. He was used to his drunken rambling, to the way Kaveh would suddenly raise his voice to reproach him the littlest detail of his actions, to the mood swings and temporary self-pity that soon turned into a drunk mess. It was all too familiar to the Scribe, at the point of making him insusceptible to any complaint the other needed to splutter. Yet at the same it was truly exasperating to be aware of how well they knew each other.

Haitham memorized his roommate's behavior, he had studied him so closely in every single aspect of his personality and he resourced to act sassy to avoid any opportunity for the other to feel even more indebted that he already was. Alhaitham was not the vocally type after all, he showed his concern through little actions that were often overshadowed by the bluntness of his words, and of course, Kaveh was too dense for his own good to understand the last thing Haitham wanted was to hurt him and instead, he had been looking over him. One of those actions being him picking him up. Alhaitham appreciated silence, appreciated his moments alone, but even when he had those things at home when Kaveh was not there, it bothered how much he missed the noise and the constant babbling.

"If you are an adult, then behave like one." A scoff did leave the back of his throat upon his response. A bit childish, accusatory and most importantly, a personal one. Haitham knew Kaveh did not owe him notifications of his whereabouts. He was an adult indeed, but that was probably the hardest part of their relationship, how his senior sometimes required extra supervision because he was too kind for his own good.

Haitham was aware Kaveh was not going to easily follow the first person that presented in front of him, there was still some sort of uncertainty in thinking... what if? What will happen the day Kaveh decides to keep on with life and finds someone else? Haitham was not prone to feel anxiety, after all it was a state of mind created by fake scenarios and thousand of possibilities. But that's exactly what it was, a possibility. Alhaitham was mature enough to admit, that even himself, who was used to repress his feelings, could feel jealousy over the first person that dared to approach Kaveh in such a flirty, romantic way. And Kaveh was probably still unable to understand the source of his anger. Slow. Dense. Clueless. He had so many words to describe his senior, but he felt like he was wasting his time arguing with the wrong person. He didn't care for that stranger at all. Life was full of disappointments and there were plenty of people out there to mend a broken heart.

Sadly, he did not listen to his own mind as he was still pinning over the same person after all these years. Simply because, Alhaitham couldn't imagine himself with someone else.

"Resorting to violence is not very gracious of you." The tone of his voice was sarcastic, dismissing the punches on his back as the grip of his hands carefully held his body. His hand firmly holding his waist, not wanting to drop him nor allowing himself to do so at any moment. It was the easiest and fastest way to get him out of the tavern, as the Scribe did not wish to keep looking at the hopeless man that attempted to flirt with his... roommate. And still, despite the erratic behavior Kaveh was displaying, a small smile drawn from the corner of his lips, experimenting endearment as their banter was something he held dear to his heart.

Oh, sweet silence. It was also a signal that Kaveh was overthinking, or perhaps he fell asleep. Any scenario was possible as the Scribe simply kept on walking home. The distance was no long, it was late at night and people were in the comfort of their houses. In other circumstances, he would have turned on his earpieces to completely ignore Kaveh's rambling, though in moments like these, he preferred to listen to anything he had to say as were the only moments he had glimpses of honesty, as well, it was his own way to check on the man. Even so, he could not avoid the frown to appear in his forehead upon hearing those words being spoken. He is nice to him, in his own way, yet nice. Alhaitham was smart, quick to understand the hidden, obstruse messages within any sentence. He knew Kaveh did not mean the normal type of 'nice', but instead he was requesting for something more, which in all honesty, devastated him considering how much he wished he could kiss him right now. Still, he remained calm, knowing there was no use in dwelling in past memories that once brought happiness to both of them. Haitham was the rational one, meaning there were no times at all in which he yielded to his impulses. Things were different now, and that was also okay. He was satisfied with the idea of just having him around.

"We are almost there." His voice came softly this time, feeling the chilling wind hitting through the fabric and realizing it might be getting to Kaveh's back window. He stopped in his tracks, putting the other down on the ground as he removed his own cape to put it over his shoulders. Just a glance at the blonde was enough for him to tell he had too much to drink. Haitham let out another long sigh, telling himself he was not going to remember any of this. He carried him again, but this time in a more delicately way that only showed Kaveh deserved to be treated as the prince he truly is. Warmer than before, allowing him to rest his head against his body and fall asleep if necessary. The door of their house was already on sight.

As the door cracked open, Haitham directed himself towards the coach to carefully lay down his drunken roommate. No words spoken as they were not required, his feet being directed towards the kitchen by reflex to prepare a cup of coffee for him to help him sober up.

"Drink this." He mumbles, shoes being taken off before making himself comfortable at the other side of the couch, taking out a book off his belt pouch, the one he was reading before all this mess occurred. His eyes were focused on the pages, though his lips parted for a second indicating he wanted to add something; "You should be more mindful of your own tolerance. You need to learn how to drink within your limits." Another scolding that would probably earn more complaints, though this time Haitham purposely filtered his words to be less attacking. The only pro regarding drunk Kaveh was how Haitham didn't have the need to deliberately act insensitive to make him comfortable and less guilty.

Of course, the one person who made Kaveh feel like tearing his hair out of his scalp was this man. Alhaitham never failed to create the bubbling of annoyance and anger in him, bringing up the uglier parts of him that he wished would simply never rear its head. He was sure if he were to say this out loud, the man would continue to accuse him of running from reality again, telling him that he was simply not as good a person as he wished to be. Well, he would argue that how a person is had to be built on their decisions and actions! And Kaveh truly believed that he could be a better person. Even if he has taken his bitter pill and learned that his idealization can only do so much in the whole scale of things. His kindness has to be of use somewhere, to someone, even in the most minuscule of instances, and gratitude.

If he could take that one step to make someone's day better, why wouldn't he? All he had to do was to be kind and show a bit of trust.

"I am not projecting anything! Argh, why must you always speak in such an accusatory tone? What's wrong with me enjoying a few drinks outside without your nagging? I'm an adult!" It's confusing actually, and if only his brain was working normally. If he could think clearly, maybe he would understand why Alhaitham was acting like this-- a bit rougher than even their usual banters. What was he so angry about anyway? He didn't need to jab at his sore spots, though Kaveh has to reluctantly admit he had drunk more than he should. Doesn't matter, it's not like he's ever ended up on the streets after drinking after starting to live with Alhaitham. Almost always, he ends up getting home in one piece by his own power. After all, he would never tell anyone he was living with the Alhaitham.

Huh. That didn't explain why Alhaitham was here for him. No, Alhaitham came to pick him up when he drank too much, didn't he? Of course he did, or else, where would all the tabs for his drinking go? When he drank last time with that stranger with silver hair with a Haravatat uniform, the one with sparkling eyes and a wide smile too different from the Scribe, smart and inviting... Had he been taken home by that man? No, Kaveh was too much of a romantic. Despite what one might assume from his beautiful looks, he actually disliked sleeping around. He treasured himself too much, and was actually so picky with too high standards to simply let anyone touch him. Rather than an ego, he simply knew his own worth. Though, he knows he was close to lapses of judgment when addled with alcohol. Still, he always ended up going home somehow! This was a fact.

"Late price?" Kaveh laughs at that, the anger previously on his features wiped clean as he does so heartily, bending forward slightly from the strain, then straightening to wave a hand dismissively, cheeks flushed. "They can't make me pay when he's already paid the mora beforehand. You sound like you're suggesting..."

The blond blinks slowly, then within his muddled mind, he thinks. After all, Alhaitham isn't the type to lie or the type to give wrong facts, even though he usually had horrible timing in revealing said facts. So he turns around, red eyes meeting surprised hazel- yeah, that was the color. A blush is coloring his features that the architect would have brushed off as simply alcohol like his own burning cheeks. But then the man looks away, guilty and shy as if Alhaitham was right. Oh god, he was being flirted with and he hadn't had a single clue. Kaveh was so shocked, and also kind of pissed that Alhaitham was right. What was he going to say now, when yet again, the other was correct and he was being presented with those facts?

But well, Kaveh doesn't think their heart-to-heart or the nostalgia he was able to bring his stranger slash companion of the night had been all fake. Maybe the mood had changed when Kaveh decided to be nice and draw for him, reminding him of happier days. Kaveh was the one who hadn't realized what he was doing to the poor man's heart since he had no such intention himself. He was flattered, a little confused, but he supposes it's not a horrible feeling to be desired by a kind, humble soul. Much better than those arrogant scholars who have tried to court him before as if they were all the big thing. Kaveh smiles a bit for the man, watching his cheeks burn harder and he's surprised by how honest the reaction is, he actually giggles out loud. Oh, he misses this feeling of being so honestly wanted, of how simple it was knowing that he was liked, knowing he was attractive enough to make even strangers enamored with one conversation. Kaveh suddenly felt a squeeze in his chest, a sharp pain he was learning to live with everyday, and knew to turn away quickly. There was no way he could show the distress in his eyes to a stranger as he feels his throat clog up, suddenly upset over something he couldn't have.

"Wha- Alhaitham?!"

Before he could even start on his moment of self-pity, he felt the world spin so hard he nearly passes out, feeling something in him upheave uncomfortably, but no he was not going to throw up. He never does, not from alcohol. If anything, he was going to blame it on Alhaitham for picking him up out of nowhere, his big hands holding his waist like he weighed nothing, hard shoulders pushing against his hips uncomfortably. "Hey, put me down! Who do you think you are to carry me like this?! I'm, ahhh! You! Why are you carrying me so easily? You used to be so small and cute, now you're just an overgrown chunk of muscle! Haitham!! What did you just do? You do not throw money at people like that, do you hear me?!" Kaveh is complaining, gasping, kicking his calves in resistance in what little space he had, fists smacking his back in frustration. They weren't light smacks either, but a few actual punches, frustrated at how he was being treated like a ragdoll.

Immediately, when the chilling night air hit his face though, Kaveh falls silent.

He breathes in the cold air, blinking his eyes slowly as he feels the alcohol swirl his mind and makes him see lights in smudged blobs of light. He could barely see straight, holding himself up on the other's shoulder. But he felt like with one wrong slip, he would fall straight down and pass out for the night. Even the cool night air wasn't enough to wake him from his drunken stupor, but tonight apparently was a quiet drunk night compared to the constant shouting and arguing he would normally go for when it came to Alhaitham's manners.

It didn't help that the discomfort in his chest lingered.

Kaveh couldn't put a finger on it at first, but as he looked at the stars and pondered on it, he decided-- it was longing. A desire for something he broke with his own two hands. With a mouth that still continues to shout things incorrectly despite his very best attempts to be nice, he couldn't even dream of gaining such kindness. It was simply a fact that between them, Kaveh and Alhaitham, there was no hiding the ugly mess that he was, and Kaveh both walked on eggshells and felt relief within their little space. But he yearned for something else instead; warmth and tenderness that others gave him willingly if he showed kindness, one he had to drip blood and sweat to maybe get even a consideration for a lick of such from the man he desired it from. He missed being held, and holding. He just wants to feel wanted again. Kaveh misses home so badly, he might even cry.

"Haitham... Treat me nicely..." He's not going to beg, but he's going to whine, shivering as the cold wind blows against his open back. "- Wanna go home..."

[hancfubuki]

     To fathom the unfathomable. That was primarily one of Alhaitham’s goals and certain philosophy he had learn to follow through the years. There were things that simply were impossible to understand, being one of those his terrible and vexatious hyper fixation on Kaveh.

     The current behavior was expected, not being able to draw any sort of emotion or hints of surprise in his visage as the Scribe was used to these little number being pulled once a week. It wouldn’t be his beloved senior if he didn’t act like this, the scolding and unnecessary complaints followed by the distressing noise that came in the form of sloppy dialogue. Ah. It hurts his ears. He was irritated, tired and most importantly, jealous. Especially in the way the architect was talking about the so-called companion. He didn’t care, at least tried not to show it. Alhaitham had the talent to remain calm in situations and act rationally instead of impulsively give into his feelings. Unlike others. 

     “You ruined it yourself when you decided to drink more liquor than you can handle. Projecting your lack of responsibility on me will not sober you up or make you feel better with yourself.” Some of the other’s words did strike a nerve, considering him, among everyone, has been the only one with Kaveh through all these years. But that’s not a subject he liked to dwell in, creating worthless conflict that might lead to an insufferable conversation he would rather avoid. Alhaitham completely dismissed his companion, there was nothing to discuss about nor he found relevant to direct his words towards him. Kaveh was his main focus, the subject of his affection and worry. Though, the intimidating aura he managed to irradiate came naturally with his sense of discontent. 

     There were times in which the scholar questioned how could someone so brilliant and gifted like Kaveh still managed to be so dumb and dense. “Free drinks usually come with a late price.” Not when the person being treated was as beautiful as Kaveh. An easy target, some would say. He lacked malice after all, and his own sense of guilt was the one that attracted him to situations that might put his life or well-being in danger. It was ironic to hear him babbling about giving the Scribe some ‘advice’ when he couldn’t keep track of a stranger clearly attempting to flirt. Still, this was the usual custom for him-- for them. 

     Truth to be told, he was not better than him. It wasn’t hard to admit that alcoholism might have been a problem, or instead, a type of folie-a-deux. A hum left his vocal chords, the simplest way for him to communicate as the toned varied according to his state of mind. His voice came raspy, in some sort of complaint mixed with the usual annoyance and bitterness worthy of a childish tantrum. Haitham forgot a little bit about rationality when his moment to argue appeared, when he wanted his senior’s undivided attention to focus solely on him. He was an egoist, and there was never hesitation to highlight his demands. His personality truly unwraps when certain blond was present in the room, making Haitham to forget about his surroundings and do anything in his power to get under the other’s skin. Continuing ignoring the brown eyed man, Haitham held the glass of wine to chug the remaining of the beverage. He could keep drinking, a glass or two, maybe a bottle as well. Resistance was not an issue, there was surplus wine at home so sitting here and enjoying a drink was definitely not an option when he had his roommate almost passed out. It was late, and Haitham wanted his bed, a good book to read and oh-- the sudden yearning of Kaveh’s caresses that helped him to fall asleep. Nostalgia indeed was an issue. How the intrusive thoughts and unwanted desires appeared to remind him what something once existed. Thankfully, Haitham didn’t like to live in the past, easily letting go of it to focus in the present. 

                                                     That’s it. He had no choice. 

     It only took a second for him to approach the blond, lifting him up in his arms as some sort of sack. Kaveh was a light-weight in all sense, and it was thanks to his physique Haitham was able to maneuver however he wanted. Mora was taken out of his wallet, being thrown at the counter in front of the stranger while the intimidating aura and gaze never left his face. “That should be enough to cover for his drinks." Or rather; ‘stay away from him’. A very subtle way for the Scribe to say he’s not a person to ‘treat’. 

     Expecting protests coming from his roommate, he decided to pay no mind to whatever the other had to sigh. A light nod of his head in the form of goodbye directed to Lambad before he exited the tavern with his roommate still being held in his arms. No words coming from him, the grip being tight to avoid the drunk man to fall to the ground as he carried him back home. 

Oh, how the world spins with color and bright lights.

He is so fucking drunk.

The curse he so eloquently put in his head makes the blond laugh out loud, a gurgled giggle as he slowly pushes himself up from his curled position, sitting up straight for a second. "Where were we..." He hums and thinks about it, but all he can recall is a blur of emotions, something happy and pride for his work. He had tons of pride in his creations, of course, that was in there somewhere. The stranger he's met today, his name... He doesn't think they even exchanged names before drinking away to share memories and Kaveh got a full insight into the other man's life.

This was not even the first time this sort of thing happened. Sometimes, he'd start talking to someone, listen to their troubles or stories to share, and after some time, he would suddenly be told their whole life story. Kaveh himself was at least self-aware that he tried to please others and was a good listener when he tried to be. He was confidently charismatic and good at socializing. It also helped that he had good looks! People were always biased for that, even Kaveh was not an exception. He loved beauty and swarmed towards it like a fly to fire, although he also loved creating it with his own two hands, hence, his job. The point is: Of course he liked things that were pretty. Otherwise, there was no way he would have ever been interested in that stupid tactless man of a human being.

"No..." He mutters out loud, forgetting his brain-to-mouth filter as he buries his face in his arms on the counter, the constant worrying words of his companion drowned out by his own embarrassed train of thoughts. His beauty had helped, but it wasn't that. That wasn't why he had spent so many years pining and giving his heart to the man, damn it. He was a better person than that, he was a romantic at heart, he was... So drunk and ignoring his companion oh heavens.

He lifts his head, staring at his companion and his eyes are a light brown, worry marred on their features as they hover over him. A little laugh escapes him, thinking about how different all other people were compared to the man. He would never hover, he would never marr his face with tenderness like that for him- not anymore. There's a hand supporting him when he nearly collapses forward, the world tilting and he's smelling flowers. It's not the smell of home, more like a light wind, a breeze at a waterbed. It's not the smell of home, so he pulls himself away, laughing and letting out a genuine apology.

Kaveh doesn't realize the blush crossing the man's features, or the way he leans closer suddenly with a stranger look in his eyes. He doesn't even open his eyes as his body sways once, twice, then he wishes he was home in his bed. He misses the scent of home so badly right now. He can almost smell it, the stupidly sharp tang of mint mixed with earthy herbal incense he had brought in. It's so strong in his memories, he can remember it so well, a bit... too well?

Red eyes blink open to see his companion looked pale, shaking his head in some form as if he hadn't just drunk as much as Kaveh had. That must be painful, dizzying, but he doesn't understand why he's trembling like a leaf. He was just so warm suddenly, leaning back against it for a few long seconds as he seeps it in to warm his now-cold body. But it hits him- that is definitely the scent of books, ink and Kaveh's incense. One he had concocted on his own for how specific his tastes were, ones that a certain someone complained about until he got used to it, even stole some to light when he was away on work at the desert. He feels his body shaken; once, twice, and he's blinking himself awake. "Hai...tham."

His feet shuffle, and he's standing with the other's hold on him, but the moment the realization of why the man he was with was trembling in place like he was just told his whole life was going to go down in shambles, Kaveh felt heat rise to his head, face red from alcohol yet he finds a semblance of strength to snap his arm away from the scribe, a hand on his hip and a sneer- if one could even call it that. It was more of a glare, brows furrowed as he stomps a step forward and he pushes an accusing finger at his chest. "You," he starts, brain nearly whitewashing everything he was about to argue if not for the blank face he was so used to seeing. The hint of anger in his intense, beautiful eyes with stupidly complex colors. He didn't even understand why it was there!

"Apologize! You're scaring my companion and for what? He was keeping me company and being a nice person." If only Kaveh caught the guilt-stricken look behind his back, the stranger realizing belatedly that maybe Kaveh genuinely had no clue. "He even bought me drinks without a complaint and was being... Was good company! And here you are, treating him like he committed a crime. How many times have I told you that you are only going to keep making enemies if you don't soften up your expressions, huh? Listen to me when I'm actually worrying about you and giving you advice. You can't keep-- Hey, are you listening to me?!" He feels the world spin when he takes another step, nearly stumbling forward into the person before he caught himself. "Also, what do you mean I'm with you? You weren't the one with me this whole time."

He slows, and Alhaitham might catch a murmur about how 'you weren't home either' but that's just drunken mumblings before he rakes a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to hold his head steady through the dizziness. "Urgh, you ruined my good mood." More like, a high drunken sappy mood.

[hancfubuki]

   It hasn’t been long since he finally recovered his original Scribe position at the Akademiya. The fast-paced environment that came hand in hand with being the Grand Sage was slowly driving the scholar insane-- if that ever was possible. Haitham was able to regularize his emotions often, but even in this circumstances he had to admit he was yearning for his old routine. So looking at the poorly written applications, even if it was a tedious job, was enough to bring a soft smile to his face... Home, sweet home.

   Later that day, he found himself rejecting almost all applications, there was no reason to force himself into finishing all the documents from start to end, knowing pretty well a good application could be recognized in the first few sentences. Truth to be told, he was lazy and he had no issue admitting it. At the end of the day, he was still a good fit for his job.

   Alhaitham was not necessarily the type to celebrate an achievement. As long as he could have silence and peace of mind he felt at ease, though, in this case, returning to the Scribe position did allow him to have more free time than before. Time that he usually spent at home, reading and well-- being with certain someone. In a very twisted way, the bickering became an essential part of his routine and he was used to his presence. The noise pollution was normal by now, which he hated by the way, but even when he had the house to himself and had no need to wear his earpieces, he realized there was some sort of co-dependecy there. Haitham never asked for his whereabouts either, in fact, he highly valued his time alone at his house considering the other was already an adult. At the same time, there were days in which he enjoyed to go straight to the tavern after work. He had a special spot reserved at the counter, one or two drinks enough for him to enjoy his meals to then return home. And at the same time, this particular hobby of his also worked to drag that certain someone to the house again.

   As soon as he stepped inside of the tavern, he was able to recognize the familiar silhouette at the counter. There was not surprise nor any other signs of emotion displayed in his face. Normal behavior. Pathetic behavior. He could tell from miles the architect was feeling unwell and could fall asleep at any moment. Alhaitham let out a sigh, as he couldn’t recall how many times he had been called by Lambad to come and pick him up, it became automatic already, as if the Scribe had a sixth sense and knew when to appear when needed. Silent steps approached the counter, as always, forgetting about his surroundings and just directing himself to his point of focus. Yet he stopped on his tracks right before he could say or do anything, his earpieces disconnected and allowing him to listen to the conversation. Take him home? Just who was this man?  

  Haitham possessed the talent to remind calm in basically every situation. He barely displayed emotions and seemed heartless most part of the time. His poker face was his signature expression at this point, yet there was something in his eyes that hinted some strokes of anger in him. Jealousy, actually. But he didn’t say or try anything, as he preferred to keep his emotions to himself instead of acting like an impulsive mess. Knowing well his own presence hadn’t been noted yet, Haitham changed the course of his steps and directed towards Lambad instead to pay the bill. He stared for a few seconds, examining the stranger’s behavior in case he had to intervene.

  They were no longer together. Alhaitham was aware of it, but was he at blame for still feeling the same? The blonde never seemed to notice, and he was too unbothered to try and say something as he wanted to keep him close. But, Haitham couldn’t obviate the fact he didn’t stand to see him with another man. Especially when Kaveh was such as light-weight and had zero self-control.

   “He’s with me.” Were the only words he pronounced before his hands positioned on Kaveh’s shoulders. A cold tone of voice directed exclusively to the stranger as the expressionless face never changed, shaking softly the other’s body to snap him back to reality. “I already paid, Kaveh. Move.”

@hancfubuki did not like a starter call but it's compulsory!

Today was a good day.

Or he wished it was. Important letters were delayed, his clients notified that they wanted modifications to the design which needed him to scratch out almost half of his work and start again for it would affect the base structure of the composition, almost meeting one of his juniors as he left his house, and to top it off, there was trouble at his workhouse that he needed to solve immediately among all else. Kaveh felt overworked, tired, and simply done with anything related to flicking his wrist with a stationary in hand or raising his voice in horror or stern lectures. Everyone was an adult, why couldn't things be easier and talked out nicely, without fuss?

At least, he had one thing he could enjoy now that everything was put on hold. An adult's only pleasure-- sweet liquor.

"The wine tonight is delicious again."

Said comment is said aloud for the owner to hear, waving with a wide smile before he goes back to sipping on his drink. He had wanted to invite his friends- Tighnari maybe, even Cyno would do, but neither seemed to have time on hand tonight. So he finds himself sitting at the counter seat, sipping his drink all alone. Kaveh isn't too bothered, easily able to pull a paper out and start sketching with the leftover pencil from where Lambad had taken an order moments ago. The man wouldn't mind him borrowing it- he had plenty!

Yet, as he neared the end of his cup, he was approached by another customer who offered a drink and company. Already loosened with a drink and liking the thought of not adding too much into a certain someone's tab so he could maybe get away with it, he gives a little smile and waves at the seat next to him. It's good company as far as drinking buddies go- interesting life story; growing up in the Mondstadt and moving to Sumeru's city later in life, hardships, and their meeting some nice folk willing to take him in and give him a job. Kaveh shared little to none while he sipped on his second glass of wine, happily tipsy enough to listen, but not enough to add his life story except for some laughable moments and sharing his passion for art.

It was over an hour later and several more drinks later, he was laughing at something not even funny, explaining the intricacies of flying buttresses on Mondstadt's cathedral and their function, sketching out his grand ideas of his own design. He didn't even realize how close he was sitting now, nearly enough to butt heads as he sketches stained glass, the feeling of fulfillment warming even his alcohol-addled mind when the man looked truly captivated, nostalgia in his eyes at the familiar designs.

If that wasn't what he lived for, what else.

To realize his dreams, he supposes. He nods his head at himself, musing and remembering the pure sense of glee and pride to see his projects come to life exactly as he envisioned. Lambad's Tavern was no different. Just sitting here, thinking about the grueling days he wanted to throw and break something in frustration until he put pen to paper and finally came up with an idea. He missed that. It wasn't that he had no work, but he couldn't deny the pressure of having reached a peak at such a young age. Too depressing, he needs to change his thoughts.

"If only he had even one-third of your ability to stop being stubborn and see the importance of aesthetics. Then maybe, we could finally come to an agreement on something." That was a sign he had too much to drink, tongue slipping to complaints about him again. He should stop, but his head spins, and he's supporting his head in his hand with an elbow on the counter, the other man fretting over him, offering to take him home.

"No, it's fine. I'm fine..." No, he's not.

[hancfubuki]

Rumors paint Alhaitham as the most mysterious, suspicious and selfish person. Claiming he only acts when a situation benefits him. Which is actually a lie. Haitham is a selfless person, wanting others to enjoy the simplicities of life and lead the life they want to. Unlike popular belief, he doesn't enjoy other's suffering, even when he teases with it due his dry and sarcastic humor, Alhaitham knows how to pick his battles. He is lazy, indeed, something he has never attempted to hide, and his enthusiasm doesn't really radiate from his aura, he never shows it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. He does become rather active when it comes about his beloved senior. Kaveh never seemed to understand the extends to which the scribe is willing to go for him. Starting from helping an archon to fighting scholars, sending Kaveh far away and calling it a coincidence, knowing the other will not suspect everything is part of his own over-protective behavior. Alhaitham wished he could completely shelter Kaveh from the harsh reality of the world, but he is aware he cannot be there forever, though, that has never stopped him from spoiling him. It's not exaggerated to say his world revolves around Kaveh.

Picking his battles, right. This was not one of those he could just simply argue and be able to get out Kaveh's hidden rationality. If it exists. He wondered, how someone who is considered a genius, a prodigy, could be so dumb at the same time. Blinded by emotions and denial, that's only logical explanation the scribe has for the blonde's behavior and lack of attention to his surroundings. Still, until this day, he wonders how someone like him can survive in this world. It's still a mystery to him, yet at the same time he is glad he can keep an eye on him, keep him close and just supervising his erratic behaviors and sudden mood changes. In all honesty, it was strange to see how well Alhaitham could read Kaveh, yet he is still unable to understand his behavior or how his mind worked. Therefore, he realizes pissing him off more will not work, and it will only cause the other to run away and disappear, worst case scenario, they will ignore each other for a few days until Kaveh completely forgets what he was upset about. It was always like this, useless arguments and heated discussions that only lead to both of them being hurt, a strange way of communicating feelings, but yet again, it's not like Alhaitham himself is an expert on that field either.

The pages are turned, he focuses now on his book and the silence fills his ears. The earpieces are on, he is unable to listen to the steps, but he does sense the presence immediately, looking at the door with the corner of his eyes as he subtly turns off the device. Let's see what he has to say, it's his first thought. He might regret it, unsure if he wanted to talk about this subject now, but Haitham better than anyone knew it was better to allow the other to talk instead of taking the impulse away from him. He hears the cup of coffee clanking against the wood of his desk, the smell of the pita filling his nostrils, followed by a slight sound of his stomach grumbling. He is hungry. So he will take it, but as soon as Kaveh leaves just because he doesn't want to give him the satisfaction, just yet. Eyes still fixated on the book, not bothering to look at the other. Apologizing and thanking at the same time? That's a first. "If you were sorry you wouldn't do it as often as you do." He knows he shouldn't be petty, but Kaveh is always loud. It doesn't matter how much he asks him to keep his voice down or stop working at late night hours, noise and Kaveh is always a combo he has to stand against his will. He doesn't reply to the gratitude. He could have said a snarky comment, saying those were leftovers or something of the sort. But in all honesty, he didn't feel like talking right now. He feels Kaveh's weight against the desk, being finally the moment in which he looks up at his figure. His back facing him, not being able to look away as he stares deeply. Fingers still holding the page of the book he was previously reading but getting completely distracted.

Then... the question. Silence. Haitham wonders if he should answer honestly or play it off. Was this even the correct time to have such conversation? The idea of not talking about what happened was appealing, mostly because he is not planning on miraculously reconciliate with him and acting all lovey-dovey as before. Yet again, that's the past, and nostalgia is far from being his favorite emotion. He could yearn for the past at times, but he is unable to get stuck into those thoughts, instead wanting to move further and focus on the present as the 'what ifs' don't exist. Everything runs it course, and even if he had control over it, it didn't mean that situations will be modified to his own commodities. Living in a dream sounded appealing, in which him and Kaveh were still together, and the arguing was not more than friendly bickering that turned into messy kisses and giggles coming from the blonde. Those times were no more, and Haitham already made up with that idea. Past is not going to return.

"I need you to elaborate." He knows what he is talking about. But he purposely evades the question, acting in the same way as the architect has been acting for the past hours. Unaware, willingly. It did annoy him a little to know that, despite the long years they have been together, Kaveh is still unable to understand how his own way of communication works. He is not good with words, he is not good with emotions, and all those little actions and details are the only way he can truly express how he feels. Haitham is tempted to lean on, to touch his back in the same way he was doing last night. To run his fingers down his spine to cause the inevitable goosebumps and arch of his shoulder. He would stand up and hold him in his embrace, reminding him the same sweet words he had spoken the night before. But he couldn't, he shouldn't. He is still unsure if this is a good time to talk. Perhaps there's simply not a good time to do so, neither of them are ready, and they will never be ready to talk about it, their relationship and their convivence. That's the harsh truth. There's always something in between, like some type of wall between them that prevented them from being together.

He takes a deep breath, the sound of the book shutting close resounding in the room as he places it over the desk. "Have at least some decency and courage to look at me." Confrontative enough. Uncomfortable conversations were bound to happen sooner or later, especially with the mess both of them became previously. "Since when you ask. Well, that's a rhetoric question, don't you think? Perhaps you have noticed earlier, but prefer to drown into ignorance and turn a blind eye to it than accepting the cruel truth." He does sound a little arrogant, even when he is not really showing emotions. He sounds robotic, actually. Maybe disgusted, annoyed, tired. This is probably a new argument they'll have every two weeks from now on. "I tried to move on. It didn't help, and it has been like that for years."

Honesty. One of Alhaitham's strengths, but that bluntness sometimes was his biggest flaw. Should he speak with the truth now? What will happen if he says it? A- Kaveh could still be in denial and try to refute it or B- Kaveh will run away. In either scenario, Haitham knew he was fucked, yet at the same time he didn't feel like lying or pushing him away, as that might be worst. He hated when he acted like an unpredictable hurricane, specially when he knows for a fact that a storm is awaiting for him. But as he mentioned previously, sometimes it felt like he could read his mind, and just by looking at him, hiding his face away and facing towards the books, Haitham could tell what he really wanted to hear.

"I did mean it. I said it earlier, before you yelled at me." Still petty about it, and he has no intentions to hide it. "Use your brain. Do you think I randomly offer people to live in my house? If you were someone else I would not talk to you, I wouldn't spoil you as much as I do despite the unstable behavior I receive in return. I'm not waiting for you to do or feel the same for me, but you can make your own assumptions. The response is clear; I never stopped loving you."

Anger is a weapon.

Kaveh knows this, learned it in the worst way possible, and he hated using it. Yet, no matter how many years pass, he learns that it's impossible for him to not be swayed by emotions, easily changing his mood and expressions. Anything he felt, he felt deeper and harder. Happiness came in large rays of warm sunlight, bright, big smiles and unhidden laughter. Sadness came in tears and uncontrolled sobs, pain that wrecked his body and left him powerless. Anger. Oh, anger calmed him, only to sharpen his tongue and weaponize his knowledge into something deadly. So he never showed real anger. Annoyance at clients, irritated ramblings, dramatic retellings of tales. He learned that real anger was no different from other emotions, and he had to care to feel it. When he cared so much he loved the subject in matter, the anger could only be just as intense and burned. He would call it hate. But neither anger nor hatred fit him, immediately replaced by guilt and sadness for the gentle soul he had-- though he will always call it his lack of maturity.

So watching Alhaitham go silent, the bright glow of his gem reaching his eyes stopped him in his tracks. Did I go too far again? Kaveh stands quietly, breath held, watching as the scribe takes a towel and leaves without a word, teal eyes not looking at him even once. Isn't this what he wanted? But he feels empty, slowly falling to his knees and sighing tiredly, pulling his legs up and hiding his face as he hugs them close to his body, letting water pelt down over his head. He doesn't regret kicking Alhaitham out of the shower, desperately needing his space. If he hadn't done this much, he felt like Alhaitham wouldn't have listened, and he would have continued to simmer in discomfort, and the lint ready to spark would be lit uncontrolled, a hazard to the fragile thread holding them together. If there was anything left, his brain provides, and Kaveh sighs even louder, crawling back onto his feet. He's methodical, quick, and soon he's out of the shower. He gets an oversized shirt to cover up before he reluctantly goes to Alhaitham's room. He pulls out the sheets, picks up after their mess, and throws the laundry into the basket.

His clothes are missing. The blond walks into the living room to look for them, only to be greeted by still silence, his presence being the only one in existence.

As if he had been wearing those headphones Alhaitham always put on and suddenly had them ripped off, he feels the oppressive weight of silence. He picks up his clothes and looks around, the emptiness is familiar, a house with only him as the single occupant, and it leaves a disgusting taste in its wake. "Idiot," he murmurs, biting his lips as he tries to fill the silence but fails. He wanted to talk to Alhaitham properly, but he was still agitated and knows this space was necessary. He didn't want to hurt him with harsh words, he's already done enough. But it still hurt. The blond had no idea where the scribe had gone, but he was sure he didn't have any work today. Moreover, it was far too early for him to have gone to his office anyways. Was he avoiding Kaveh now? He could understand that. Kaveh did quite literally tell him to get out, and maybe the scribe thought he meant the house. Deserved, really. The architect tosses his outfit in the basket with everything else on his way back to his room, running away from the empty house left behind. He crawls into his bed, listening for anything to break through the silence that fills his ears. But he's unable to keep his constant vigilance, exhaustion piled up from last night till this moment dragged him down into a light, fitful nap.

Kaveh dreams. Short snippets of their joint project from over a decade ago. He had barely slept then, keeping up with his own school work late into the night while teaching their peers during the day so they could understand the progress, clinging onto them desperately to keep their group intact, driving himself to his limit. Kaveh is aware, now and even then, that no one else could keep up with him and Alhaitham. They were all intimidated, put out by their inability to keep up, and disheartened, leaving one by one until Kaveh's hard work was all for naught.

The click of their front door snaps him awake, burrowing further into his blankets and pulling them up above his head. He's unsure if it's shame or guilt that eats at him, unsure how to show his face to Alhaitham. The same had happened then, hadn't it? After he tore their project in front of the boy's eyes, collected it with tears blotting out the print when teal eyes could no longer judge, and spent the next few weeks in the Akademiya avoiding his junior without any face to stand under his gaze. The blond stays curled up for another ten minutes before he feels his stomach grumble, now in hunger. Even at times like this, his body would get hungry, and he muses how it feels rather anti-climactic, too old now to be sulking in his bed as he had before, pushing himself forward-- or in this case, out of his room. It's still quiet, but he hears the telltale sign of the scribe reading in his office as he hears paper flip, and when he peers into the living room, he smells food. Kaveh walks up to the divan and stares down, a lump stuck in his throat at the display of his favorites, left innocently on top of their shared table like an offering. The note with it only proves the point. It makes his fingertips cold with nervousness, taking tentative steps till he can crawl onto the divan, pulling the soup and plate of fruits along to sit beside him as he curls up in the corner against the wall. He picks up the bowl ladles a spoonful of soup in his mouth and continues with a second and so on till it warms him up from inside, listening quietly to the sound of a page being flipped. He feels much better as he's fed, warmed, and comfortably at home.

Kaveh's first thought is that he never wants to live in a house devoid of life again. He puts the empty bowl aside and starts snacking on the fruit, savoring the sweetness that fills his mouth, giving him a surge of dopamine. But he thinks of all the times he's desired something, how they all ended badly. His father had died, his mother found happiness far away from him, their peers for the joint project left one by one, his palace destroyed putting him heavily in debt to rebuild it from scratch, and even his attempt to get another job with the traveler's help turned sour. It seemed like he was cursed with bad luck, and he lets a wry smile paint his lips. But the traveler did remind him of all the things he has achieved, as well as reminding him how he had been saved as he drowned. He thinks of how he chased after his little junior, how he let Alhaitham choose the direction of their project and he chose one that included both their interests. When everyone left, he stayed, never moving until Kaveh pushed him away. Even now, he gave him a home, bought him wine, and touched him reverently, going out of his way to buy him his favorite food even though he shouted at him. Kaveh wonders idly if this was Alhaitham's love language.

When they were students, Kaveh had been the senior by title and he had actively been the one to buy Alhaitham food, follow him with his eyes like the love-struck teen he was, always taking care of him and his needs when he could, a deep-set desire to spoil and pamper him always present. Now, it felt like everything was the other way around. He had assumed all feelings were dead, and this was just an extension of his so-called observations. But if he didn't take his words at face value... So spoiled. How is he supposed to hate such a cute junior? Kaveh picks up the empty dishes and walks to the kitchen, washing everything and making a simple pita pocket with the right amount of filling so it wouldn't fall apart, a habit he's added into his daily routine since he started living here.

Brewing coffee is therapeutic, filling the tiny pots with coffee and sugar, watching them closely till they boiled. The scent of it fills the house and Kaveh pours them into their respective cups, putting everything on a tray before he takes it to the office. He doesn't make a scene, or say anything; simply looks straight at Alhaitham in the eyes, emotions detached before he looks away, putting the tray down on his table and serving the coffee and food, noting the familiar book in his hands. "Knowing you, you probably haven't eaten anything yet. Eat it before it gets cold."

Then, Kaveh picks up his own cup of coffee, back towards the scribe, leaning his weight against the desk, taking a tentative sip as he looks at their bookshelves, letting the bitterness cover his tongue as he takes a breath through his mouth. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you." Because he really was, terribly upset that he hadn't been able to handle it better. But he didn't have the heart to tell him he wasn't sorry for getting mad, but he was sure Alhaitham understood that clearly by now. "And... thank you for the soup and fruits." He could have returned the gesture, but he couldn't wait that long to talk to Alhaitham, knowing he would just try to run away again if it was put on hold. But he's still unsure what he wants to say or if Alhaitham isn't thinking of kicking him out of the office to read alone, never knowing where the man's mood was, especially when the tension in the air was so thick, one could cut through it with a knife. He rakes a hand through his hair, curling a few strands with his finger, still unbound and left free. Even though the intrusive thought is to immediately ask him if he meant it, the architect knows it's not the most important thing to ask now. Instead, he might as well rip off the whole bandaid.

"Since when...?" Since when did he love him again?

[hancfubuki]

A glance is directed towards Kaveh, no more words added after seeing him leaning against the well. Oh boy. Right, it's his own fault. But still he doesn't say anything else and instead lightly brushes his shoulder in a pushing attempt to get inside the shower. Nothing new to see, and considering how deep he was there last night there's nothing to feel ashamed of. Or at least that's just how his mind works, there's nothing they could hide from each other at this point. He does frown when he hears the yelling, but makes sure to remain calm and serious as he doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of showing any sort of emotion.

His heart hurts, and his back is kind of suffering the consequences of being in such compromising position for a long time, though he is aware his pain is probably not as bad as Kaveh's. He glances at the blond, a judging look appearing over his face as he decides to ignore him and push him aside to get beneath the hot water. "Agh!" A grunt of complaint leaves his lips, followed by a grimace full of pain upon feeling the hot water running through his body. It burns. Being a reminder of the hard nail-digging provoked on his back and the scars he is probably going to have in the next few days, nothing too fatal to stay permanently on his skin, and far from feeling disgusted, he smiles to himself reminding that passionate getaway from last night. Pain felt good. Even when his face seems to be complaining he does like the sensation of the water splashing against his open wounds and burning skin. "Calling the Matra for showering in my house seems over exaggerated." And he has seen the Matra doing worst than that. A comment that he doesn't add as it's not necessary, not yet. "Bold of you to assume I would do this to someone else." Alhaitham retorts back as his hands move through his grey locks, sending his back at the back and exposing his forehead and face.

He stares for a second, and he hates to admit how stunning Kaveh looks even in this situation. The golden locks of hair wet and resting at the sides of his neck, which were hidden the several marks he made last night. A mix of purple, red and the color of his beautiful skin, hopefully they'll last there more than 4 days. Mark of his teeth all over his shoulders, bright puppy eyes channeling embarrassment and glossy lips pressed in a thin lip of annoyance. Ah damn. He is so in love with this man. He would get closer, move his hair away and kiss the marks he left on the side of his neck, kiss him fiercely to remind him the lingering sensation of the night before. Fine, perhaps he is a pervert, but at least he is able to control his impulses and instead appears completely normal and disassociated on the outside, as always. Haitham ignores him for another few minutes, fingers now running through his scalp, spreading the shampoo all over the roots and tips of his hair, eyelids closing as soon as the water falls over his face. Warm. Not as warm as before when Kaveh was in his embrace. Nostalgia is not a feeling he experiments often, but oh dear, he wanted to return to bed and allow him to sleep all day over his chest.

Haitham doesn't reply, instead he is combing his hair to the back and allowing teal eyes to stare deeply at him. Toned body being exposed, the waterdrops functioning as some sort of decoration all over his defined muscles. He is note even trying to look appealing, he doesn't care about it, but he does know he might be the menace right now. Silence feels the room again, the sound of the water running being the only one audible.

The scribe finds extremely amusing the fact Kaveh is trying to hide the inevitable. Haitham knows what he did last night, and he is also aware he should have pulled away yet decided against it. Normal occurrence. And it's not like he is expecting to see it, but he wonders why all of the sudden, the other decided to switch to being so private once again. A sigh. Haitham guesses they will be back to their normal selves and no one will mention anything about it. Fair, as he does remember telling him they didn't need to talk. Though, the scribe did have the small hope this could become a bridge for them to openly express what's been hiding for the past years. Lips parted for a second, as if he were to say something, but ultimately decides against it as the soap starts traveling across his body, cleaning himself, rinsing the foam away in the process as his own fingertips brush lightly his own skin. Alright, he is done. But before getting out and grab a shower, he stays under the water and directs his gaze towards Kaveh.

"If you need help, say it now." Straightforward, not showing embarrassment. Perhaps it's guilt? Knowing he went overboard and couldn't control this particular detail, or had the option to but decided not to? Ah, but to be fair Kaveh could have cleaned up before sleeping and they could have a soft make out session in the shower instead of him crying all night, so this is also partially Kaveh's fault. Whatever it was, Alhaitham is craving contact, realizing but ignoring the fact Kaveh suddenly leaving the bed left him touch starved. Well, fuck. He didn't realize earlier how much he needed or wanted this, forgetting how clingy he is in reality whenever someone calls his attention.

When Kaveh said he wanted to know what was going through his head, he didn't think Alhaitham was actually going to tell him. He's not sure if he's unimpressed or just plain annoyed, but he's sighing as he draws circles on his skin. "I'm sure they'll find a use for all the obscure books you read one day." Though he says this mockingly, a tease for the types of books he's seen Alhaitham read, Kaveh is a hypocrite as he tends to read just as obscure books as well as genre-specific ones to his darshan. He's well-read and could easily spend a day going through the books in Alhaitham's pile and find some interest in them, maybe even some inspiration. But he's never going to finish every single book because as much as he likes reading, it was more casual, unlike Alhaitham's pure love of paperbacks and hard-covered tomes. If he's in the mood or simply needs a break from his pencil, sometimes he'll steal a book to browse, and debate about it over dinner before going back to his sketches. He can't always understand every single one, but he damn well will try, and he always has Alhaitham an arm's reach away if he really needed it.

Kaveh shivers when his hands get touchy, arching his back as the warm hand reaches a certain point on his back. He lets out a shaky breath, embarrassed by how easily he reacted to his touch. "Stop teasing me. Be a good boy and go to sleep." He smacks him once more, much lighter as he closes his eyes.

Sleep comes to him easily after the emotional and physical exhaustion, deep in slumber through the night without waking up once. Then it comes back to the morning after, in pain and cranky as he staggers on his feet. Kaveh waves a hand dismissively at Alhaitham's complaints, knowing the scribe was going to be extra cranky or moody in the morning after how late they stayed up. Coffee was the only answer for them both but the blond literally could not function without cleaning up first. He steps into the bathroom and pats his hips only to realize he didn't have any clothes, sighing at how disoriented he was. The hot water is turned on and Kaveh moans as the water rinses away sweat and body fluids on his skin, rubbing his face clean and blushing when he's reminded of what he's done last night. Lord Kusanali please forgive him he is about to flip and scream if he didn't know that Alhaitham could probably hear him from his room. The edges of his lips still hurt. His throat was a mess. His hips and lower back creaked worse than they also do after long nights of bending over his desk reviewing his designs. He could feel the sticky tear tracks and he just wanted it all off.

When the water cleans him up a fair amount, he's sighing in relief. The pain in his abdomen kicks at him, and he leans against the wall, forehead against the stone as he relaxes his muscles, mentally preparing himself. He never thought too much of it before, and probably even felt proud and delighted when he was younger for what it meant, but now he just has too many conflicting feelings to want to think straight. Methodical steps and he'll be done.

Around the time his hands finally reach the curve of his hips, he hears the door creak open, and Kaveh squeaks, hands snapping up and away from himself, stomping the floor as he gets back on his feet. He snaps his head towards the door, looking at the scribe walk in nonchalantly, as if he didn't just walk in on his shower and got shoved to a side for the single water source. Then Alhaitham dares look at him like Kaveh is the weird one and even says 'What?' like.. Just like that. "What...?" He's too shocked, embarrassed at almost being caught with his fingers somewhere indecent, and confused, he falls silent. Only for a minute. "Alhaitham! Can't you see I'm in the shower? What are you even thinking? You don't just walk in when someone else is in here. If it was anyone else, they could call the Matra on you and you wouldn't have any excuses!" He could complain about Kaveh screaming in the shower all he wants, but he thinks Alhaitham deserved to have his eardrums burst for it. "Couldn't you wait another five minutes?" The blond glares, cheeks rose-colored as he's rendered tense again despite the hot water falling on his back. God, it hurts. He wants to take care of himself and the scribe just decided to be a menace this early in the morning. His body hurt, his throat hurt, he's stressed, he's embarrassed, awkward and he wants to crawl in bed to sleep all day. It was a day off for him with no classes to teach nor work to do after he canceled the last commission.

But there's already soap in Alhaitham's hair and it would just be more work to argue if he kicked him out physically, so he angrily gets his shampoo and starts rubbing it into his scalp, leaning his back heavily against the wall for support. Lowering his head, he hides the wince of pain as he scrubs at his hair, bunching his long locks to get soap till his hair ends before walking under the water to quickly rinse out the suds. Then, he starts lathering on his hair treatment, leaning on the wall again, purposely taking his time so Alhaitham would just leave. The man didn't take that long in the shower, he could hold out till then. He refuses- absolutely refuses, to do it in front of him.

"Are you done yet?" He crosses his arms, refusing to look his way. Didn't Kaveh bite him last night? He knows his own body is littered with marks, especially around his shoulder and neck, and somehow that makes him move his hair, trying to hide them from the scribe's sight.

[hancfubuki]

Seeing him retorting back in between the tears is comforting. Even when Alhaitham himself is always the one complaining about the abrupt mood changes the architect has, it also means his own attempts on distracting him are working correctly. Yet again, Kaveh is easy to read. A predictable being and he does know how to rile him up, especially to his own benefit, in this case, his partner's well-being. Haitham did hold certain joy and pleasure knowing he is the one that makes Kaveh act defensively all the time. Even when that's not a hard task to do though, but he believes it is their own way of communication. An unique language they have created, being a direct translation of their true feelings and adoration for each other. Words have never been exactly Haitham's forte, sometimes he sounds robotic, sometimes it seems like he ate an entire dictionary as he subtly offends other with extensive and hard vocabulary and it didn't matter how much he applied this formula on Kaveh, it will always work on him and Haitham is proud of himself.

Index and thumb immediately move to grab his cheek, squeezing it tightly in a playful yet teasing manner. "We argue because I want to." Or rather because he is easy to work up and he looks pretty in the process. It is something that dates from their first encounter. It will always be engraved in his mind how easily it was for his cheeks to turn a dusty shade of red when he retorted back, since that moment, Haitham realized he wanted to be by his side and trigger those expressions out of him, not being able to realize at once it was love at first sight. After all, both of them were a bit slow when it came about figuring out his feelings, even in this same moment, where Kaveh is not able to understand what's going despite what just happened. Oh well. It's not like the scribe does need him to answer right away. It might take him days, but it as well might take him months or years to realize he is still in love with Alhaitham. Yes, a little bit egotistical. But Haitham knows the feelings are there, just hidden deep inside at the back of his mind. "Hm." A long silence fills the room for a moment as his fingers brush against the blonde's cheek, staring at the ceiling and purposely making a dramatic pause to get Kaveh riled up and curious of his response. He knows the other tends to overreact and overthink everything, and considering his usual behavior, Haitham knows for a fact, Kaveh probably believes he is always thinking on deep subjects that concerned the blonde himself, or perhaps some evil masterplans to bring him down, as he knows that's how Kaveh perceives him. If only he understood everything he has done and said is for love. "Lately I have been thinking the books at the library are a little dusty. Some of them belong to the House of Daena, I brought them home in a whim. But now that I am no longer the Grand Sage I should return them and donate some for future generations." Probably not the answer Kaveh is expecting, but who cares. That's really how his mind flows in a daily basis. He does think about Kaveh, mentions him in every occasion he has, but his mind doesn't really gravitate arounds him. Well-- it kinda does. In a total different way, perhaps the egotistical one here was Kaveh and not himself.

The touch and atmosphere between them is soothing, despite of the wet sensation Kaveh's tears left against his skin, the warm that embraces him is enough to make him feel good enough to start teasing him again. "I also think about your waist... and your back." Is that what he wanted to hear? Probably not, but the serious demeanor that projects in his face, completely confirms this is him wanting to rile him up again. Alhaitham has a talent to say embarrassing things with such a straight face. Though, this is not a lie. It does happen, at certain times of the day. "Hm-- Intrusive thoughts it's the name? Sometimes I have them, but it's easy for me to ignore them." He adds, as the hand holding his tight goes up on his frame and moves to his back, brushing his fingertip against his spine to cause his back to arche. He smiles to himself, not going overboard as the last thing he wanted was Kaveh to run away from his hold. A sudden memory of their Akademiya days resurfacing. Alhaitham always had the habit to approach Kaveh from behind, holding his waist and startling him on purpose as his face buried on his back. At that time, Haitham was slightly shorter than Kaveh, so it was his special place, where he felt comfortable and protected. Later on, he grew up in height and now he was able to do the same, just hiding his face on the crook of his neck, the golden longs causing tingling on his snooze, sometimes provoking him to sneeze, but nuzzling his nose nonetheless. He loved doing that, and he would keep doing it if he had the chance.

Though, considering Kaveh keeps crying he decides to let go of the subject, relaxing completely under his touch as he allows the lights to be off. He stares for a moment at the black ceiling again, everything's dark and he is able to listen to Kaveh's breathing and heartbeat next to him. Precious. He holds him dear, closely, pulling him unbelievably closer and not wanting to let him go anytime soon. It is when he realizes he is dozing off, mind and body tired and drained from all the emotions he had to deal with today. Indulging into the soft caresses, how Kaveh's fingers still brushed against his gemstone, he realizes that feeling fo safety he didn't feel in years is back. Being embraced by someone all night long, body heat keeping him warm and the adorable nickname that was chosen only for him.

He realizes the lovely night is over, but Haitham was born mentally prepared.

Haitham wakes up earlier than him, but upon seeing the time and how the sun was barely starting to peek he decides to prolong his time in bed, clinging onto Kaveh who seems to be sleeping still. Time pass, the birds are chirping already and he cannot deny it does annoy him. Sensitive ears and light sleep is definitely not a good combination, then he hears his name. Ah, he woke up. So he grunts in response, not opening his eyes and holding tightly on his body for a few seconds, until he is completely pushed. "You keep me up all night and then wake me up early? You really are a mess." Back to their usual behavior, and Haitham feels cranky. His body feels heavy and his heart does hurt a little despite not being him the one with a hangover-- emotional hangover perhaps. He is not content with the smell coming from his own body, and as soon as Kaveh stands up from the bed, he rolls on his stomach staring how the figure of the other man disappeared into the room.

Sighs. They should have cleaned up before sleeping. And he would have suggested if only Mr. Emotional wouldn't have started with his tantrums. Haitham flops on the bed again, eyes focused on the window for a second, listening to the birds starting to fly away. Today he has a day off, he could stay in bed lazing all day, reading a book and drinking coffee. His favorite and only activity, in all honesty it didn't change if it was a day off or not, his routine is practically the same every day. But his body feels sticky, and he realizes he does feel dirty. Not thoughts of regret appears but he wishes to wash up a little before continuing with his day. He cannot be lazy if he smells like sex, alcohol and Kaveh's guilt smeared all over his body.

The problem is... there's only one bathroom in the house.

His head tilts to the side, blinking in a questioning manner as he stares around the room. He has an idea. A cheeky one, actually. And even if there are traces of hesitation he comes to the realization he doesn't care. It's his house at the end of the day. Haitham stands up from the bed, blanking being tossed messily to the side, pushing some books that were on the floor below the bed. Alhaitham is a messy person, and he is aware he might not be the most clean. Kaveh complained with a reason, even the bathroom is filled with books. But he doesn't think about that right now, they could argue over cleanliness later at the breakfast table, and instead his feet start directing him towards the bathroom's door. It creaks open, feeling the heat of the slight warm water running down, and without further notice, he slips himself inside the shower next to Kaveh.

Deadpan. No words spoken. He acts as if this is completely normal, directing himself beneath the water jet to wash out his body and throwing glances at Kaveh to let him know he has appeared to invade his space, moving to get his own shampoo and washing his hair in front of him. "What?" He asks, finally locking gazes with the blonde. Defiantly, shamelessly.

He found his cue to be a mischievous pain in the ass for Kaveh, and he will take it.

"You prat! I do think before I talk." Kaveh retorts softly so as not to break the serene air, making his pets to his chest into a smack in retaliation, glaring at him with a threat for more annoying smacks if he didn't stop. He does think, although sometimes he just slips a few callous words that just fall into place. It's not his fault he's human and can't form the most perfect words to speak every single time. He's not a robot. Moreover, in a casual conversation? If this was a thesis review or a presentation at the Akademiya, he would have no choice but to put on his work mode and present himself as the perfect person people see him for, but Alhaitham is crazy if he thinks that'll happen at home. He should be glad he even makes sentences instead of grunting and humming his answers back like a certain someone. His brain goes a hundred miles an hour, but Kaveh does know Alhaitham is just teasing him, but he still can't help but scowl even when his hand goes back to the gentler pets on his chest. The touches on his thighs and skin send a shiver down his spine, and he looks up warily, but sensing that he was just comforting him, he breathes out a sigh of relief and allows it, relaxing into each brush of skin and humming in content. It's incredibly warm but in an enveloping way where he feels cozy, surrounded by the scent of their home and Alhaitham, something he didn't realize he missed so much. It's odd because he vaguely remembers thinking about how he wanted so badly to go home at the tavern last night when he was reminded of the scent, almost enough that if Alhaitham hadn't come, he might have bolted home anyways with a few excuses on his tongue.

That's for him to know, and Alhaitham can struggle with his possessiveness all he wants. Kaveh needs at least one leverage to call the man an idiot.

A soft laugh escapes him at his next words, a bit deprecating. "If you could read minds, wouldn't we be arguing less?" Or is it because they know each other too well, that they end up in arguments? A dilemma it truly is, how they seem to never end in things to raise their voices over. The blond still thinks it isn't fair because the scribe is always teasing or taunting him in one way or another if they aren't arguing about some theory or person they want to gossip over. But there's a deeper part of him that knows that their relationship was built upon throwing wits, teasing, and building tension-- it was just their love language and Kaveh is so close to figuring something out... but throws it out for now. Reading Alhaitham's mind though... "What would I find if I read your mind?" He mutters to himself, unaware he does so as he stills his hand on his chest, palm warming his skin as he closes his eyes. He is quite curious about what he thinks all the time, but after tonight's events, he might be too scared to find out. It's not as if he was denying their past, but he thought after all these years that Alhaitham had moved on, easily throwing away his affections for Kaveh and living his comfortable life without any need for him. Because he genuinely saw no reason for Alhaitham to need him. It's not to say Kaveh thought of him every moment of the day either! But... He thinks of the scraps of torn paper in his notebook and feels tears fill his eyes. "Fuck it." He's a mess, and he's done pretending he isn't for tonight, sniffling and rubbing the tears away before they can fall, pouting as the man's chin rests on top of his head and he hates how comforting it is to be in his hold. Kaveh doesn't need Alhaitham, he doesn't! He denies all allegations. But he so god darn wants him.

If Alhaitham could read his mind for one night.

Kaveh lifts his gaze and his finger draws figures on his chest before he slides up towards the gem on his chest, brushing his fingers over it gently. He watches the faint glow and feels his stomach tighten and his heart race at the confession breathed into his lips, taking a shaky breath. 'I love you too.' A confession in his head doesn't matter, even if they make his throat burn, he wants it to be said. But it does make his face heat up, heart racing so hard he almost doesn't catch the way the scribe's heart races just as fast. Stop, stop crying! He can't even help himself as he sniffles one more time, vision wet when he thinks about the confession again, thinking about when the scribe started loving him again. He hasn't changed at all since day one when he was invited to live here, and that mildly terrifies him.

"You..! Must you speak like that when I'm just trying to apologize? I know our dear Grand Scribe won't do anything he doesn't want to, but there's common courtesy. It'd be worse if I just assumed you were fine and later found out you hated something." Kaveh is ranting off, angrily glaring at the scribe even when his chin is held, uncaring if he looked less intimidating with wet eyes. He is defiant even under the scrutiny of his gaze, teal eyes so calm the blond is unable to figure out what he wants. But there's the tell-tale sign of a tease and Kaveh readies himself to bite back. Only, he didn't expect him to flirt. Crimson eyes are wide and staring confusedly until heat fills his cheeks and he parts his lips only to let out a meek sound. "You... Crass!" The architect squirms as he feels the heat in his stomach, suddenly too aware of the hands on his thighs. He knows that's not what the scribe meant-- or was it? He doesn't want to know and doesn't care. Kaveh will do everything in his power to pretend he didn't just think about it. For a split second, he thinks he wants to squirm away to get away from the embarrassment, but the warmth from his body is too strong of a pull, fist on his chest as he lets out a sigh. Relax, stop letting Alhaitham rile him up.

But it's hard to do when Alhaitham is staring at him silently, still keeping his chin held in his fingers. Kaveh could easily pull away if he wanted to-- but he didn't. Not really. It was the first time he got a proper look at the scribe after he became lucid, a bit thrown off when he was crying right after having sex, and his eyes and hearing had still been a bit blurry when Alhaitham was laying on his chest before. Now, he could see the softer features that were always there post-sex, his short hair a mess despite how much he's tried to brush it down, some tangles and spiking happening in corners his fingers had not reached. He looks so young like this, quite adorable if he could input his opinion, his eyes so beautiful as they shine in the dim light. Kaveh begrudgingly has to admit that back then and even more so now, he really liked Alhaitham's face a lot. He's such a pretty and handsome man to look at. A lot more people would be throwing themselves at his feet if he had a personality to back up his beautiful looks, he muses to himself as he stares, falling deeper into his obsession and he gently caresses the gem still under his fingers. He really loves him. Stupidly so. The blond dislikes how he understands his jealousy just a bit, because he thinks he wants Alhaitham to stay the way he is, brash and straightforward to a fault. Otherwise, everyone would be able to see how his personality was actually of a man who cared more than he let on, someone whose actions benefitted others despite his consistent waving off that it was all for himself. It's true that he was egoistical and thought of himself first-- but what human didn't? Kaveh has seen plenty now, of those who have drowned in their greed and ego to step a foot into the grey areas of morality, taking advantage of the weak for their own gain. At least when it came to Alhaitham, he knew where to draw a line, even if it strayed from others', he had one that he kept to and Kaveh could respect that.

If it was too obvious, Kaveh might no longer be the only one to receive his genuine smile. He didn't like the thought of that, not one bit.

Too deep in his own thoughts, the blond had no time to even question why his face got close, simply blinking his eyes close when he tastes sweetness on his lips in the form of a warm kiss, gasping softly. He looks back at the scribe and sees his lips curve, and his heart leaps. Fuck, he loves this cheeky man. "What..." Then, the lights are turned off and Kaveh is unsure if he's lucky or unlucky for it as his face heats up in a dark shade of red, making a high-pitched noise at the very back of his throat. He flops his head back down, cheek against his skin as he gets pulled closer, shifting to get comfortable, making a show of bumping his hip and crossing his legs in a tighter squeeze to let out the steam. Damn it, how is he supposed to sleep like this? Kaveh huffs and buries his face in his chest, realizing his fingers are still playing with the gem. If he's going to do that, then two can play the game. "Good night, Haiyi," Kaveh says clearly, a smirk on his lips at first, but it softens into a smile, patting him again like consoling a child. They're so childish, he laughs to himself sleepily as he gets drowsy.

Soon, his breathing evens out as he falls deep into slumber, cuddled up to the scribe to steal warmth. It isn't until the sun is out for at least an hour before Kaveh stirs, used to sleeping in till later in the day with his creativity booming at dead hours of the night.

When he stirs, he is very warm and his pillow smells a lot like Alhaitham, so he buries his face into the crook of his neck. Which is the first sign that this was not a pillow. He slowly opens crimson eyes to see a bare chest, a softly glowing gem and he wonders if he's dreaming. A dream of their Akademiya days maybe, now that the people of Sumeru dreamed. He has had dreams of his days there quite often. That, or nightmares. So he rather prefers this, rubbing his cheek against the other's skin as if scenting him, giggling softly in the warmth filling his body. He's so comfortable, he doesn't want to move. But the chirping of birds outside their window is too loud all of a sudden, the rays of sun too hot to be within a sweet dream. Even worse, he feels a bit sick in the stomach in a familiar way that usually meant alcohol or...

"Urgh..." He should have taken a shower and cleaned up last night. He curls up on himself, holding his stomach and groaning softly. Kaveh realizes with horror that he's slept with someone, a familiar pang deep in his stomach he wants desperately to dig out. Something he should have done last night, but he forgot after years lacking practice, suffering for it now. It wasn't a horrible pain at least, but he is struggling to open his eyes as he tries to get up. "Alhaitham..." He doesn't even have the capacity to be embarrassed by his cracking voice, trying to push arms off. Now that he thinks about it, didn't he keep it a secret that his stomach got upset easily? Well, he's not telling him or letting him figure it out now. That's his secret to take to his deathbed. Back then, it was because he likes being filled and now, it was to hold onto the last bit of dignity he had left. After last night, he's direly lacking any. "I need a shower." He pushes himself reluctantly away from the warmth and climbs out, holding onto the dresser as his legs wobble. He hates this. Why couldn't he have been responsible, why did he drink so much and end up having sex with Alhaitham of all people? He's going to kill himself after he gets himself cleaned up and gets a cup of coffee to clear his head and feel more alive. Yes, death after coming to life. Sounds like a suitable punishment for the astrocities.

Kaveh looks back and wonders if he should say more, if he should see if there's any heart left in him to help Kaveh move, but the pang in his stomach tells him no. Horrible idea. Anything that needs to be said could be done after he cleans himself up. "Morning. I'll make coffee like I promised." That's enough, and he walks as normally as he could towards the showers.

[hancfubuki]

What a curious turn of events. Or not. A situation that is supposed to be uncomfortable, being completely far from it. Alhaitham feels fine, amused even at the little monologue that his beloved senior was giving him, not showing traces of worry in his eyes either, despite the overlapping sadness that previously filled his chest, but this is because the state of the affairs was totally predicted. Kaveh's messy behavior is implicitly triggered due his impulsive desires pushing him to the limit. And it was a little twisted to say how much joy it brought to the scribe to see him rambling-- because it meant he cared.  

He smiles to himself, not in satisfaction, but out of endearment. Some things never changed, and it didn't matter how much they tried to hide their mutual feelings or how much Kaveh tried to shove the tough guy in front of him. Haitham will always be able to see through him and his real feelings, as he knows him as the palm of his own hand. He has memorized every single gesture, the wrinkles in his face whenever he is stressed over something, or when he returns home, holding back his tears and pretending everything is fine. All those little details, a side of Kaveh only he has been able to see so far, at least that's what he chose to believe. But considering their actual situation he is able to tell neither of them have overcome their past relationship. Still orbiting around each other, like magnets, almost as if a strongest force was making them stumble against each other over and over again. Yet again, Haitham doesn't believe in destiny, and instead decides to find a logical explanation for their encounters. Though, love cannot be logically explained. Till this day, it was a subject he couldn't fully understand. 

Therefore, he doesn't ask him to stop crying. And contrary to public belief, he pets him softly to console him, palm brushing against his skin, pulling him closer into an embrace to let him know he will have a safe place to cry on. Overwhelming indeed, and perhaps he shouldn't be so nice, but after their agitated night he couldn't simply go back to being the bratty roommate stealing the keys. Strong emotions followed by carnal desires and pent up frustration that had been locked up for years. It truly is intense. Alhaitham is still able to feel the ghostly caresses on his skin, remembering the sensation of being able to stretch his insides. To be fair, he is also coming down from his own daze, being abruptly interrupted by what he called a consequence of impulsivity. Yet he listens, not daring to interrupt just the rambling coming from the blonde. Hilarious, cute. Kaveh is trying to comfort himself, not Alhaitham. 

It doesn't matter though, he allows him to talk and unload all those feelings trapped at the back of his throat. Ah… highly emotional people. Alhaitham is curious about the thought process, yet at the same time he was intrigued to understand how a single person could hold so many emotions. But he accepts the proximity when he returns back to the bed. His hands softly pull at his waist to get him closer, legs tangling together as another hum leaves his lips and fixes their bodies in a cuddling position. Eyelids closing slowly at the lingering touch on his chest. Soft. So warm again. 

If only they could stay like this forever.

Haitham is getting greedy, addicted to the contact and not wanting the night to be over. Delusional on his side, but one could dream from time to time, especially him, who never allowed his mind to be blinded by illusions. 

"I know." He mutters lazily, a whispery voice coming out as the hand on his waist rubbed his skin gingerly. Legs tangled, chasing after the warmth they provided to his flesh. "You never think about your words before speaking." He grips his waist, going down to his hips and brushing his fingertips against his thighs casually. Delicate touches and caresses to help ease him. It sounds like scolding, but a mischievous smile blossoms from side to side. Kaveh is sso dear to him, and he constantly has this need to bother him simply because he looks adorable when flushed. "Sometimes it feels like I can read your mind." Midnight confessions, not finding a reason for him to avoid the subject or pretend he doesn't know him. His chin rests at the top of his head, burying his face softly on his hair, breathing on his scent as the hold on his frame strengthens to pull him unbelievably closer. He is sure Kaveh can listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat, acting a bit erratic for seconds yet being able to remain calm. Somehow, he feels grateful the other is comfortable enough to sob like a baby.

"When was the last time I did something because someone forced me to? Never. I tend to follow my whims instead of doing something I don't want to. I don't have energy for that." He decides to defend himself, though his voice is still soft as there's no intention to really call him out. But he is a little offended, Alhaitham would never do something he doesn't want to. And to prove this, his free hand moves to lift Kaveh's chin, so he can have a better look at his adorable crying face while the other hand roams across his thighs. Though, the touch is not necessarily lascive as they already moved past that stage. "I do have enough energy for you, though." Now he is just flirting with him, a light smirk appearing in return to at least try and ease the atmosphere. 

Nothing too heavy… Haitham wondered what he meant with that. There was nothing else to add and with his face still lifted he got a better look of his eyes. Hmm. Impulses were acting strong tonight, and all that talk about whims made him realize there's still something missing, something he wants to do. Haitham knows he shouldn't, but the cheeky behavior inside of him was tingling, wanting to do it even though it probably is not the best idea. Well, actually the entire night hasn't been a good idea all along, yet here he is, cuddling with his ex after a steamy session of really intense sex. 

He doesn't give the architect time to react, leaning over a bit as his chin remains lifted to shamelessly steal a kiss from his lips. It didn't last long, as it was merely a peck, but it was sweet and delicate as the cheeky smile appeared again. "Night, Kaveh." He mumbles softly, hand stretching to turn off the lamp that was on the nightstand before moving his body closer to allow the other to cuddle properly against him, regaining the warmth that was previously lost. He wraps the blonde completely, not giving him a chance to leave as a long sigh escapes his lips. Haitham relaxes, closing his eyes with his face still buried in the blonde's hair. 

Love. He remembers. This is how it feels. 

The sunshine peeks through the window. Haitham grumbles, a con of being a light sleeper. He is unable to recollect the time he fell asleep but the pillow smells like Kaveh's shampoo and his side is warm. Ah. He woke up first, didn't he? The embrace remains, he can sleep a little bit more. 

This wasn't what he wanted at all. Kaveh wanted to spend the evening enjoying the short-lasting dream of joy, of being loved and loving, to think of nothing else as he drowns in the warmth inside a bubble he knew wouldn't last long. But emotions had never been something one could control, not when they came from the depth of one's heart. Otherwise, no one would ever have to let emotions get a hold of any part of their life. Still, it angers him so much how he can't stop his breath from hastening, gasping for air as he rubs his eyes desperately, trying to get rid of the tears that refuse to stop forming and leaking onto his cheeks. No matter how much he swipes at them, he still feels them flow down his cheek, down to his ear, and wet his already damp hair at his temples. He can't control the way his lips twitch into a frown, a wrecked sound escaping him when the wave of guilt tries to crush and drown him deep under a wave of sadness despite his attempts to stay afloat.

Not talk about it?

Crimson eyes widen with a split second of silence, then large blobs of tears form before they're falling down his face, shaking his head minutely. That's not it! He wants to tell Alhaitham so, but when he opens his mouth, rather than any coherent words, he only gives a broken little sob and he immediately covers his mouth, furrowing his brows in frustration as big drops of tears wet red eyes. He loses the chance to say more when Alhaitham moves away, and Kaveh is torn between letting him go and wanting him back, the sudden cold of the room making him realize just how much he's been stuck to the scribe the whole night. He feels his heart sink and he's suddenly so lonely, he sobs into his hand and hides behind them, trying his best to calm himself down but ending in failure. The blond thinks he deserves it after throwing a tantrum right after being so good just a moment ago, a happy and pliant lover who enjoyed himself as much instead of the emotional mess he was now. But before he could spiral even further into self-pity, he feels the bed dip next to him and a gentle touch is on his stomach. Kaveh sniffles and slowly lowers his hand, watching as the scribe cleans him up. He can't do much about the cum inside, but he feels both embarrassed at being cleaned up after, but also a little happier that the man came back, taking care of him. Then there's a hand on his shoulder, the back of gentle fingers wiping his tears away for him, letting out a surprised sob when he feels a soft kiss on his forehead. He's confused by the gestures. Why...

A lack of expectation. The soft touches on his skin warm the cold seeping into his body as he cools off, the deep set pain still throbbing with another soft hiccup, hands losing their place as Alhaitham wipes his tears for him, staying awkwardly on his own chest as he looks sideways at the scribe with wary eyes.

Then Alhaitham is speaking in a familiar tone, a taunt that is so reminiscent of their normal lives, a daily chore, Kaveh is breathing once, twice, a little lighter. He's too exhausted to reply right away, blinking owlishly at the man as he speaks. There's a bit of guilt because Alhaitham points out the things that bothered him most, yet he finds that he prefers it to dancing around it or joking about it, tears pooling in his eyes but they've stopped flowing for a bit. It's hard to take the taunts and complaints seriously when Alhaitham is still touching him, brushing through the mess that is his hair. Then he's teasing him, like a school bully with childish threats that make him want to smack him on the shoulder, but he's instead sniffling and more tears flow and Kaveh is angry now, at himself for the tears that just refuse to stop as if the dam holding them back broke and was going to stay malfunctioning forever. "Don't tease your seniors too much. You'll get in trouble one of these days." He says, finally finding his voice to retort back. But it's soft, just above a whisper, and lacking the snap usually in those words. It's just too hard to pretend he was angry at the scribe and not himself when he's being treated so kindly, hair brushed and each pin that's gone askew taken out gently, even his tangles are combed out and he unconsciously purrs in satisfaction. It feels so good and comforting, he feels a little better.

Kaveh thought he was good at hiding his tears, having done exactly that when his father disappeared and when his mother decided to leave. He had been determined to be strong for people around him, not letting out a single sob in front of anyone, just a smile and a wave goodbye the day he watched his mother leave to find her own happiness. But now, here in this room and in front of the scribe, he still feels like crying and isn't sure if he could stop till he passes out for good, but he does want to stop being a burden. Yet, when Alhaitham spoils him while tears flow without telling him to stop crying, Kaveh feels like he's allowed to.

A sniffle escapes as his hair is removed from his face, blinking slowly as he takes in the man next to him, watching him as he lay there so calmly in contrast to the storm brewing in his head. It's a whiplash enough to stop his tears as he's invited to come closer, pressing his lips together tightly.

Kaveh wonders if he seems a bit too needy when he immediately pushes himself up enough to crawl onto the scribe, leaning his head down on his chest and laying flat on the man, legs tangling even when he folds them a bit to get comfy. The warmth of another person is more relaxing than he's willing to admit at the moment, hiccupping a few times as he buries his face in his chest till he can breathe without choking. "You need aftercare too," he speaks up after three long minutes, turning his head so his cheek was on the man's chest now, a hand on the other side of it as he gently pets him back, kind of like one would do to get a child to sleep. He really meant it when he said that Alhaitham needed care too, his mind clearing enough to think about how jarring it must be to come out of the high and have your partner bawling like you wronged them. But now he thinks it sounds a bit like an excuse for him to stay here. It wasn't, but he was too tired to argue his reason for staying, as long as he could stay.

Looking at his face was still a bit hard, so Kaveh keeps his eyes on his own hand, continuing to pet him ever so gently in a rhythm. "I was serious when I said you're probably thinking something wrong. I'm not... regretting this. I really am just overwhelmed." He speaks softly, a whisper but in the silence of Alhaitham's room, it felt loud and clear in their shared space, enough to make him blush as he rubs his cheek against his chest a little more, as if he could just sink in and disappear. "You might argue that I don't need to explain myself, but that's not right. I should, and you deserve it." A morale he just cannot throw, because he knows. He knows, that despite what most people think, Alhaitham cared deeply, and he didn't think he could handle knowing just how much right now. The least he can do is at least be an adult about it. If you make a mistake, then you apologize. If someone did something nice for you, you say thank you. "I.. ah..." What does he even want to say? There are so many things to talk about, but they're both too tired to talk about it. Kaveh was in no mental state to think further than just cry and sleep, and he doubted Alhaitham wanted a full debate about the status of their relationship now when they both look ready to hit the hay. "Just... I don't regret it, or think it's a mistake. I... asked for it. Sober. I enjoyed it." There's a crinkle in his brows, the same way the blond does whenever he's embarrassed or angry, lips thinned as his eyes steer to one side before he takes a deep breath.

"It was good, I felt really good, so please don't think I hated it or you. It was exactly as I asked for." The words are said in one breath, hurried and a hand goes to rub at his own cheek, feeling them warm. This would be less awkward if he hadn't just cried like a child. He liked being able to comfort Alhaitham after sex, it made him feel content to share his thoughts and reassure him afterward when he was on the receiving end because Kaveh had always been easily overwhelmed and cried in their trysts. Just never this badly or for the same reason. But what needs to be said had to be said. "I'm also sorry if I forced you to do anything you didn't want."

Kaveh doesn't care if it is unlikely. It was a matter of his conscience. But as much as he's embarrassed, he feels a little better being able to spill it out, melting into the other's warmth and breathing no longer tense. That doesn't mean he wasn't going to act a bit fussy, the tears stopped at some point as he relaxes into his usual sass. Maybe the hard cry was what he needed to let go of all that tension building up inside him. "If you have anything you want to comment on, then I'll listen right now. But nothing... Nothing too heavy. We can um... talk after breakfast." He hesitates, unsure what exactly he's asking for. Urgh, his head is really muddled. Unable to take the awkwardness any longer, he huffs and closes his eyes. "If you have nothing, I'm going to sleep." Right here, he makes a point to specify, rolling to his preferred side and pressing his cheek against his chest again, hooking one ankle around his shin, pressing close.