Chapter Text
Beans, rice, poultry, a replacement for the spice blend he’d just run out of, and a cheap bag of candied ajilenakh nut, as a treat.
…It’s about all Kaveh can afford, at the moment.
He tells himself it’ll get better in the future, but given how dry his list of clientele had become over the past few months, he may as well be convincing himself he’ll win the lottery instead. Hah. The Light of Ksharewar, renowned for his refined skills in architecture, and yet he cannot find enough work to pay for food. He hopes his juniors in the Darshan will be luckier than this pathetic state of affairs he has going on right now.
…It may be his own fault, just a little bit, anyways.
But who can blame him if he settles for a little bit less than he should when presented with one sob story or another from someone wanting his work? Or if he stretches himself thin to meet a deadline not agreed to in his contract? Or if he agrees to add an addition to a project because oh, the couple he’s working for is having a baby and how awful would he be if he didn’t accommodate that change without demanding extra pay? Maybe it’s not the best professional practice, but he’s always been willing to extend his empathy farther than he should and he doesn’t plan to stop anytime soon.
It’s a strength. Not the most beneficial strength all of the time, but a strength nonetheless!
He deflates, staring at the sweet confectioneries in his hand. He pops one into his mouth. Delicious, and perfect for drowning his worries in sugar. Indulging in just a single bar right now wouldn’t hurt, but he would have to ration the remainder of the bag.
It isn’t too bad, really. He had found a comfortable place to live, not too expensive, and had been steadily working on paying off his debts (and learning to budget in the first place) since he started living there. Begrudgingly, he made biweekly deposits to Lord Sangemah Bay, dutifully ignoring the interest that little devil tacked onto his existing debts to her as he slaved away in his new flat. Modest, cozy, and nearby the edges of the city but not too far to walk to wherever he needs to be. Some cats live in a den just outside of his place, and the poor things had just had a litter of kittens, and—oh! That reminds him, he needs to buy some wet food.
Just as he reaches the stall of the cat food seller, his Akasha beeps from his wrist, drawing his attention away. It’s a nifty thing, the new Akashas—some Kshahrewar graduates had come together and modified the technology with the assistance of Lord Kusanali to act as a less restrictive way to transfer information, a sort of communication device that could be read from the wrist instead of interfacing directly with the user’s mind. Much faster than forwarding a letter or other mail, since the interactions could happen near instantaneously. Kaveh had many contacts on the device, being as popular of a resource among Kshahrewar as he was. In all likelihood, he was being sent a message from a junior of his, requesting some sort of advice on the technology they need for their plans or materials for construction or—
Oh. Fuck.
Kaveh’s heart stops beating for a second as he processes the message on his wrist.
Your rent is past due again. If you do not make a payment by the end of this week, you will need to move out so that I can find a new tenant.
…His landlord.
He apologizes to the woman running the cat food stand as he pays for his goods and walks away, hurriedly headed in the direction of his flat. Given his financial woes, trouble with finding enthusiastic clients, and the rent payment being due in a week at most…
Kaveh is now homeless, by most measures.
He groans, pressing the palm of his hand into his forehead.
Great. Just great. When he’d finally settled comfortably into one place, this just had to happen. Why hadn’t he kept better track of his bills? It’s not as though skipping out on groceries for a few days would’ve saved him enough money to pay his dues regardless, but it would at least have made the task of finding enough money less daunting.
Hopefully if he gets back fast enough, he can bat his eyelashes, explain away his late payment, and hatch out a deal (read: shamefully beg) for his landlord to let him stay another month. Another month, and then he’ll definitely pay his rent. Pay it double, even!
(It’s a pipe dream among pipe dreams—his landlord would have to be more willingly naïve than Kaveh himself to think such a thing possible, but Kaveh prided himself on having a way with words. So maybe. Maybe.)
In his haste, he hardly notices the person standing in his path, and runs directly into a firm chest with an oof! The other person stumbles backwards, and Kaveh loses his balance, the can of fresh cat food flying from his grip before he can think to hold on. He nearly shouts with frustration, but before it can hit the ground and waste his precious mora, a gloved hand catches it with hardly any effort.
“I am so sorry.” He starts, bringing his free hand to his forehead as he stares down at the tiles on the ground between him and the stranger he’d almost carelessly knocked over. “I don’t know what’s come over me, and—”
He freezes. Those boots… Look strangely familiar. He slowly tilts his head up, pulling his hand away from his face and finally taking a good look at the person across from him.
As if this day couldn’t get any worse.
“It’s alright.” Says the acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham, who Kaveh has not spoken to in probably four or five years.
Shit.
Their falling-out had been catastrophic, and even people who didn’t know Kaveh all that well knew not to bring up the pair’s shared research project from all those years ago. A still-open wound, even if Kaveh would never admit it to anyone.
He grimaces, eyes flitting down to avoid eye contact. And… wow.
How did his junior find the time to get so… Buff? Most Akademiya students were built rather stringy, too busy burying their heads in research to hit the gym, but Alhaitham looked as though he could lift Kaveh with a single hand—no wonder he caught the can with such little effort.
Kaveh shakes his head.
Weird thoughts. Stop it.
“Uh… Hi?” Is the most elegant introduction that his mind can come up with in the moment, cheeks heated by embarrassment and nerves.
“How convenient.” Is Alhaitham’s only response. “I had a proposition for you, actually.”
Kaveh gulps, taking the cat food from his outreached hand. He’s not sure if he wants to know what exactly his junior’s ‘proposition’ is, but he’ll need to take any opportunity extended to him at this point—be it from a beloved client or the annoyingly monotonous man before him.
“Let’s talk elsewhere.” He suggests, trying his hardest to be amicable.
Alhaitham nods, turning around and walking in another direction without so much as a sound. Kaveh gapes, staring at his back as he gets farther away. One second passes, then another, and Alhaitham does not even bother to check if Kaveh is walking with him. Is he serious? The nerve of this—
“Let’s.”
Alhaitham interrupts his thoughts, as if sensing his worsening temper. He looks back at Kaveh, quirking his eyebrow in question. There are a thousand words Kaveh could use to describe the man in this moment, none of them pleasant, and he is only holding back for the sake of the children playing on the street nearby! Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
With a groan and a shake of his head, Kaveh follows. He isn’t exactly sure where Alhaitham is bringing him but, nevertheless, he has nothing better to do than walking side-by-side with him.
The cats’ food could wait a few hours… or however long this takes.
Alhaitham does not utter a word while they walk together, and Kaveh thinks he can hear the faint sound of music leaking from those earpieces the man is always wearing. He huffs, and given that Alhaitham doesn’t respond at all to the sound of his mocking, he figures that his assumption about Alhaitham’s device having some sort of noise-canceling auditory function must be true.
Pah. He’d have never thought Alhaitham the type to be listening to music instead of taking in a constant flow of information or something of the like. How impractical.
“Do you plan on staring at me the entire time?”
Kaveh’s grin drops.
“Do you have eyes on the back of your head? How did you even notice?”
“Peripheral vision.” Alhaitham answers, sliding a hand up to adjust something on his headphones. He turns his head to the side afterwards, focusing more of his attention on Kaveh without pausing their journey. “Perhaps Kshahrewar could benefit from requiring some general courses, like human anatomy.”
Kaveh scoffs. “As if your Darshan is so perfect.”
“It isn’t.” Alhaitham concedes with a slight nod. “That’s why I skipped most of my lectures. Self-study is far more efficient.”
Kaveh grumbles, and they fall back into silence. He sees Alhaitham reach to mess with his earpieces again from the corner of his eye (pe-ri-pher-al vi-sion, his mind reiterates in an annoyingly sing-song imitation of his junior’s voice) and considers himself socially aware enough to take that as his cue to shut up until they reach their destination.
It’s a pleasant day, and that’s what Kaveh finds himself paying attention to instead, letting his mind run along all the details of the space around them. It’s warm, humid but not enough to make his clothes stick to his skin, and he can smell a weak scent of padisarahs coming from his right, in the direction of one of the market streets. Has someone harvested some flowers to sell? He’d purchase a bundle if he weren’t so low on mora. To be a flower-seller… What a romantic job. Sometimes he finds himself daydreaming of a simpler life doing some sort of job like that, still artistic but not nearly as taxing on his person.
It would be a shame, though, for him to have never designed the Palace, or any of his other works. In the end, it would all pay off, he knows it.
It has to.
“You’re thinking loud enough to break through the noise barrier on my headphones.” Alhaitham interrupts, stopping him in his tracks. “And even if you weren’t, we are here.”
Kaveh blinks, staring at the building in front of him.
…Lambad’s.
“Hah!” He exclaims, unable to stop himself. “I frequent this place often. Wonderful selection of liquors, best in the city without a doubt. Didn’t know you did too—do you drink?”
“No.” Alhaitham answers with a glare. “They have good food, however, and I like to order from here for my lunches.” He pauses, thinks, and looks back at Kaveh again. “And if you get drunk tonight, I will be inclined not to work with you.”
Same Alhaitham.
“I am not so unprofessional that I would share that sort of activity with my clients, I promise.” He rolls his eyes, hoping that Alhaitham’s peripheral vision wouldn’t catch the motion. Or maybe he hopes it does. Would serve the guy right. “Let’s go in, then. No sense waiting around outside, unless you want me to take inspiration from the crates at the docks.”
Since both of them are regulars, Lambad finds them a secluded table in the back rather quickly, warmly welcoming the both of them as he sends a server their way with glasses of water to start off the night. He expects Alhaitham to summon some sort of document—a pre-written contract, maybe, or a list of a thousand expectations for Kaveh to follow to the T.
Instead, he takes a long sip of cold water, and silence sinks in.
What exactly is Kaveh meant to say, now that they’re in here alone? Hey, sorry that we haven’t spoken in 5 years, actually not very sorry at all because it’s your fault but I need to be nice to you because you are hiring me now, apparently? But please start telling me what you want right now or I might begin to assume that you are here to murder me and not for a job. Or… something else, probably. Thank the Archons for brain-to-mouth filters. And also thank the Archons that mind reading is not an ability that anybody in this tavern or the rest of Sumeru City has, for that matter.
His thoughts could get really embarrassing sometimes.
What does Alhaitham think about when he’s not talking, which is most of the time? Probably something very complicated that Kaveh doesn’t understand about knowledge or order or anthropology or some other vaguely-pretentious topic that only Alhaitham would ever willingly read about. That’s why he is the acting Grand Sage, Kaveh supposes, but still.
“So.” Kaveh starts, ignoring the way that Alhaitham’s eyes slide directly over to meet his own before drifting away. It’s unnerving, the way Alhaitham constantly alternates between no eye contact and full, intense eye contact. Could he not find a more comfortable middle ground? “You brought me here to discuss something you need my help with. Care to elaborate?”
“Yes.” He sets his glass down, pushing the menu on his half of the table aside to rest his elbows on its surface. He hasn’t even read the thing—Kaveh scolds himself for it, but he wonders if Alhaitham will simply order the same dish he did years ago, when there were still… “I have a large project that I am wanting to start the design and construction processes on soon, and I could not think of a more suitable architect to design it then,” he waves an arm at Kaveh, “you.”
“How large?” He asks, ignoring the subtle compliment. No doubt that Alhaitham is trying to tug on his ego with that comment.
“I have a small house here within the city, but my current work arrangement has paid me quite well, and I am looking to expand. I recently purchased some land just outside the city, near the cliffs of Gandha Hill. I am hoping that you can design a residence to be constructed there—on a very large scale, so that it can house everything that I need.”
Kaveh won’t ask what exactly he means by ‘everything that I need,’ but it does make him curious—the acting Grand Sage did not seem to be a man of very many possessions, save for his books. He nods, thinking over the brief proposal.
“Alright…” Alhaitham blinks, as if he had expected Kaveh to turn him down.
…He had done a good job of hiding his troubles.
“I do have a few questions before I can formally agree to anything, though. For one, have you had this land inspected? Some of the soil surrounding the city is unsuitable for construction, and this could make your plans impossible. Second, I am going to need a list of specifics that you want from this design.” He frowns, staring down at his fingers as he taps them along the table’s edge. “Also, do you have any less broad descriptors? You said it needs to be large, which I understand, but it would be helpful to have a more accurate desired area to work with, or even a number of dedicated spaces, bedrooms, bathrooms, and closets in the house.”
Alhaitham brings a hand up to his chin just as their server approaches.
“Ah.” He says, in the least-startled startle Kaveh has ever heard. “Let’s discuss the details over our meal.”
They place their orders, and the server scuttles off to the kitchen to tell the cooks. True to Kaveh’s imagination, Alhaitham still orders the exact plate he always did when they were acquainted as teenagers, a simple meal that was easy to consume and neither too bland nor too flavorful. Kaveh, on the other hand, ordered the cheapest item on the menu. Alhaitham raised an eyebrow at him when the server walked far enough away.
“I’ve never known you to enjoy seafood.” He comments, avoiding Kaveh’s eyes.
“The fish roll served here has flowers and… I was intrigued.”
Alhaitham hums, dropping the topic, and Kaveh feels a weight lifted off of his shoulders. If this man ever figured out how deep his debts ran and how little mora he had to his name, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. It’s pathetic, and he knows it, but he is stuck in this situation now and there is nothing he can do but sit and bear through it—letting Alhaitham know would only worsen his situation.
“The house will need a library, of course. Ideally, with enough space to house my existing stock of books as well as additional room to expand.”
“Naturally.” Kaveh says, but writes down the request anyways. His handwriting is messy with nerves, and he accidentally misspells a word.
“All the usual living spaces—a kitchen, dining area, living space, and whatever else you see fit. I’ll leave creativity in that regard up to you.” He keeps scribbling things down, and Haitham sighs. “Also, an artistic space of some kind.” Kaveh looks up, both brows raised.
“You’re an artist now?”
Alhaitham grows just the slightest bit red, and Kaveh sees it as a victory.
“You… Is it so surprising that I might try some new hobbies?”
Yes, is what Kaveh wants to say, but instead he shakes his head, smiling to himself. Alhaitham huffs, relaxing back against his chair.
“As for a number of bedrooms… I don’t have anything specific in mind. I do not see myself having an excessive amount of guests, but any extra rooms could always be converted into studies or storage space if needed.” He takes another sip of his drink. “And yes, I had the soil inspected before I purchased the land. My surveyor has cleared it for construction and can provide you with any necessary information about the landscape as it factors into your design.”
It almost irks Kaveh how Alhaitham is simultaneously ill-prepared and overprepared for this project, at least from what he’s seen in the past half hour since he ran into the man. Who has already surveyed land but does not even know how many bedrooms he needs?!
Still, he takes note of everything, and asks Alhaitham to link the surveyor’s contact to his Akasha—it’s a name Kaveh recognizes, an Amurta scholar who specialized in environmental geology and had collaborated with some of his juniors in Kshahrewar for an innovative project in designing around landscapes rather than altering landscapes to fit a design. Maybe he should reach out to them about this? It would make for an interesting take on Alhaitham’s request.
Their dinners arrive and the two of them fall into relative silence again, enjoying the dishes as Kaveh processes the limited information Alhaitham had given him and tries to envision the start of something in his head. The fish roll is good, despite his general lack of enthusiasm towards seafood dishes—the scent of rose wafts from its filling and the fish is cooked well, not too crispy or too tender.
“Do you have any other questions for me?” Alhaitham asks after some time has passed.
Certainly. Kaveh wonders a lot of things about the man sitting across from him. Why did he pick Kaveh for this project? Does he feel guilty about what happened between them? Does he care? Does thinking about it sometimes keep him up at night with what-ifs the way that it does with Kaveh? Why the fuck does he even need such a big house in the first place?
“No.” Kaveh answers. “Other than your anticipated timeline for this project, and how you would like to arrange payment. I’ll draft a contract accordingly, and then we can both sign if we agree on the terms.”
“Preferably, we would start construction within the year, but I know your habits and I want this project to be as perfect as your perfectionist streak will allow it to be. As long as construction takes, it takes. I am not in a rush.”
A… rather vague answer, but Kaveh can work with that.
“I should be able to get a finalized version of the ‘perfect’ layout within 9 months. 6, if I hurry.” Alhaitham’s expression sours just the tiniest bit, and Kaveh ignores it. “Construction should be efficient too, so long as I can arrange the right teams of employees.”
“...Right.” He finishes the last bite of his food, and presses at the corner of his mouth with cloth. “I should reiterate that you do not need to worry about time constraints in this project. If it takes longer than anticipated, I will adjust your compensation accordingly. You can move in next week, unless that is too soon?”
Kaveh sputters, nearly choking on his drink.
“Move in?” He asks, coughing. Alhaitham blanks, staring at him as if he’d gone mad. Kaveh knows damn well he is not the mad one between the two of them!
“Did I forget to mention it? This project requires a high degree of customization and, in all likelihood, a significant portion of your time. I’d like you to stay in the spare bedroom of my current home for the duration of the project so that you can contact me more easily about your progress and any questions you might have for me.” Kaveh stares at him, and he continues. “At no cost to you—and you can also use the food and anything else I keep there. I eat out most of the time, anyways.”
He says it so casually that Kaveh has a hard time believing it is true. Is he serious?!
Kaveh knows the house is nice. Knows it intimately, actually, because the house had come from a join project between himself and Alhaitham back in their days as students, the last thing they’d worked on together before never speaking again—Kaveh had forfeited his half of the house, a terrible decision in retrospect, and had assumed that that would be the end of his time dealing with that place.
In the back of his mind he wonders if Alhaitham knows that he is about to be kicked out of his flat, and this is some cruel attempt at making a joke of Kaveh and his reputation. The Light of Kshahrewar, reduced to nothing but a mooch that lives off of his former-friend because he cannot scrounge up enough money to live a comfortable life of his own. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, and Kaveh feels himself start to sweat underneath his shirt.
“...If you don’t want to proceed with that arrangement, it is alright.”
“No!” Kaveh shouts, shaking his head. “It works perfectly well—” (better than any other options he has right now, at least) “—I was just surprised to hear that. After everything.”
Alhaitham blinks, caught off-guard by his sudden shouting.
“That has little to do with the project. I must go now. We will sign the contract later.”
In the split second between his words being said and Kaveh processing them, Alhaitham slips out from his seat and leaves behind a bag of mora, heading out to go do… something? It’s well beyond his typical working hours (posted outside of the Grand Sage’s office and the subject of many a junior’s complaints to Kaveh), so he’s certainly not returning to the Akademiya. Kaveh frowns.
What a strange guy…
He opens the pouch of mora, and his jaw falls open.
“Alhaitham!” He shouts, turning to look towards the tavern door, but the man is already long gone. This…
It’s far too much mora to simply cover the cost of their dinner. Both his and Kaveh’s dishes, and whatever drinks are left over on Kaveh’s tab from the most recent night he’d spent drowning his worries in liquor at the restaurant’s bar, too. More mora than Kaveh had had his hands on in weeks, and Alhaitham is not the type to just go making mistakes like this.
What a strange guy, truly…
The cats appreciate the wet food Kaveh bought when he arrives home late that night. Gentle mrow mrows echo in the alley behind his house as he sits with them, stroking along the back of the cat closest to him as it purrs, having already eaten its fill of the food. He can still feel its spine through the fur on its back, though, and the observation leaves him frowning.
“...Don’t you want more food, little one?”
It rolls onto its back instead of answering, and Kaveh huffs out a laugh as he ruffles the fur on its stomach.
“Alright. I suppose you would know better than I would.”
His Akasha beeps on his wrist, drawing away his attention.
An address, and…
When you have packed your things, feel free to move in at any time. The bedroom farthest to the left is yours, and there is a spare key in the planter on the right of the front door.
- Alhaitham
“As if I wouldn’t know who is giving me instructions on moving into their house!” He scoffs, meeting eyes with the cat, who tilts its head in questioning. “This guy… You little creatures must live such simple lives. You don’t even know what a housing arrangement is. You just… live here.”
“Mrow!”
Kaveh sighs.
“Right, right, you don’t speak my language.” He pats the cat's exposed belly again, and it starts purring softly at the affection. “Still, I’d like to talk to somebody about my pitiful situation, and you all are quite the friendly crowd!”
The cat just purrs on, avoiding his eyes. Tighnari once told him something about predator animals using eye contact as a way to threaten aggression, so he supposes it’s a good thing that this cat is not meeting his gaze, strange as that may be from a human perspective.
“You’re my buddy, right? You always come right up to me whenever I feed the cats out here, so you must like me.” He frowns, lifting a hand to his chin. “I should give you a name, then. I can’t go on just calling you ‘cat’ forever.”
He thinks over it for a short while. This cat is rather fluffy, but always keeps a neat coat. He doesn’t know if the cat is male or female, but he’s always had a liking to feminine names so he hopes the cat won’t be upset about that. It's a sweet little thing, and loves to clamber onto his lap on lazy nights where he sits outside of his apartment, watching the sunset. A sweet little cat deserves an equally cute name.
“How about Paniz?” He asks, and the cat blinks up at him.
“Kaveh.” He says, pointing to himself.
“Paniz.” He says, pointing to the cat.
He repeats this a few times until the cat seems to either accept the name or give up on trying to understand what it is Kaveh is saying, and walks over to snuggle up against his chest, purring quietly.
“Alright, Paniz it is.”
He spends much of his night packing his things and praying his landlord won’t bother him until he is gone. Even after he’s paid off his tab, he still has a fair amount of Alhaitham’s money left and so he leaves a bag of mora in the man’s mailbox before leaving, all of his belongings packed into boxes and lugged with a hand cart he’d borrowed from a clothing shop he frequents, with the promise of returning it soon.
When he arrives at the address, a familiar house sits before him. He fishes through the plant on the right and just as promised, a golden key lays inside for him to pick up. He slides it into the lock, twists, and opens the door slowly after he hears the click confirming that the key fit. He’s not sure why he had any doubts about it in the first place—Alhaitham isn’t childish enough to arrange a prank of this scale.
The house is laid out just as he remembers it, but the details have changed. As he drags his boxes in one by one, fighting with their weight, he distracts himself by taking in his surroundings. There is a pleasant scent in the air, the notes of which he cannot place, but he’d smelled the scent before when he’d walked headfirst into Alhaitham’s chest—he must spend a lot of his free time in this area of the house, and Kaveh supposes that the books strewn about the living area are a testament to that habit.
The hallway leading up to his bedroom is mostly bare, save for a few small crates leaning against the walls. Just based on the state of the house, Kaveh gets the sense that Alhaitham has little skill in interior design. It should be heartbreaking to see the product of their combined genius left so neglected and plain, but Kaveh is too tired from all of the carrying to put much thought into everything he would change about the place right now.
After he has finished dropping his boxes off in his new bedroom, he takes a moment to sit down on one of the divans in the living area and rest, and that is when he catches sight of the kitchen, nestled into the corner of the home.
Ignoring his tiredness in favor of hunger, he stands up, bringing over the groceries he had purchased the day before and finding spots for them in the kitchen.
What the fuck?
Alhaitham keeps almost nothing in his kitchen.
How is it possible for the shelves to be so bare?! There is a half-empty bag of rice, some small jars of seasonings, a bowl of sweets that Kaveh can’t be sure are safe to consume, and some fruit set onto a display on the countertop. Besides that, all that is left are some silverware and dishes, coated in a layer of dust.
“This can’t be real.” He says out loud, unable to stop himself.
“What can’t be real?” A voice asks from behind him, and Kaveh jumps.
Alhaitham is standing by the entrance to the kitchen, arms folded over one another as he looks around at Kaveh and the new food on the countertop. In his hands are what Kaveh presumes are some documents he needs to look over for his job—it must result in some unpleasantly late working hours, if Alhaitham is bringing these home with him.
His brows furrow.
“You have almost no food in here… and are you really bringing your work as acting Grand Sage home with you? I thought you hated excess hours.”
“I do.” He answers, setting the file down on the counter. “But that doesn’t make this work any less necessary to complete. In any case, I’ll be resigning soon.”
“You can do that?”
It wasn’t something Kaveh had ever really thought about. The average scholar would never dream of giving up the job of a Sage, or better yet the Grand Sage, voluntarily. It’s a guarantee of a life’s worth of secure, comfortable pay, and grants a person a wide range of privileges in the scope of academia as a whole and involving the research being conducted within one's Darshan. Of course, Alhaitham is not and never was a typical scholar, something which was moaned about by many a peer or professor, so…
Alhaitham shrugs in response to the question.
“It’s not as if there’s a higher power to prevent me from doing so, as long as Lord Kusanali is in agreement.”
“Hm, I suppose that makes sense.” His eyes find themselves on the barren cabinets again, and he is reminded of the initial problem. “But—anyways! Do you not eat food? Why is there nothing here at all? I have half a mind to be concerned for your health.”
Again, Alhaitham just shrugs.
“I get takeout for most of my meals, so there is little need to keep stock of food here. If I do want to cook at home, I will buy the ingredients I need at the time.”
Kaveh can’t imagine it—takeout every meal? Exactly how much mora does this guy make?!
Rhetorical question—at this point, given Alhaitham’s title and his bizarre spending habits, Kaveh is well aware that the man is somehow filthy rich.
He sighs, shoulders falling down.
“Well, I can’t question why you extended your offer to give me free reign over the kitchen, then.” He picks up his bag of food, carefully arranging the items in their proper places. He’ll have to go through Alhaitham’s food some other time and make sure he isn’t accidentally poisoning himself with expired rice on the rare nights he doesn’t order food. “But you should really eat home-cooked food more often. That much takeout can’t be good for the body.”
“I order my food with modifications, and I consider my diet rather healthy.” Alhaitham tells him, eyes glancing around at Kaveh’s work in the kitchen. “...But if you’re offering, I’ll start eating at home more often. We can shop for the appropriate foods this weekend.”
“Huh?!” Kaveh sputters, cheeks growing hot. “No—uh, you don’t need to do that. I assure you, I can afford my own groceries.” Alhaitham raises an eyebrow, looking towards the sparse amounts of food Kaveh had brought with him, and Kaveh gulps. “Ah—”
“I meant,” Alhaitham starts, interrupting him. “That if you are such a proponent of home cooked food, you can cook for the both of us. And since I will be eating the food too, it would only be fair to pay for the food, since I will not be doing much labor in return.”
“Why do I have to do all the—nevermind.” He shakes his head, stopping the argument before it starts. “That sounds like a fine arrangement to me. But if you are unhappy with the food I prepare, you have only yourself to blame.”
Alhaitham nods. “Sounds fine to me.”
The topic drops like that and he turns away, walking in the direction of the bedrooms. Was that really it? Kaveh recalls their past disagreements being much more fiery. Perhaps Alhaitham has mellowed out over the years.
What a lovely surprise.
He disposes of the paper bag he carried his groceries in and exits the house to return the cart he borrowed from the shopkeeper, careful to ensure his key was with him as he left. How embarrassing would it be to end up getting locked out on the first night of their cohabitation? The key is made of some gold-toned metal alloy, and has green detailing in the center. In a way, it matches the color scheme of Alhaitham’s usual clothing—of course he would, Kaveh thinks, but he dispels the thoughts. Alhaitham is being kind in his offer, and Kaveh should offer kindness in return. He makes a mental agreement with himself to be on his best behavior while living with his old friend, so that this contract will go smoothly.
If he does well enough…
Pah, it’s not worth it to consider.
He gives the tailor his well-wishes when he hands her the cart and sets off for the night. Like expected, when he reaches the door, that key is in his pocket and he opens and shuts the door quietly, so as to not disturb Alhaitham in whatever it is that he is doing at this hour. The process of moving had taken quite a bit of time, and Kaveh is more than ready to prepare himself for the night’s sleep.
He sets his key in the dish by the entryway and walks over to his bedroom. He opens the box that he knows contains his sleepwear and hygienic needs, and takes out what he needs for the night before heading over to the door which he’d discovered was the bathroom earlier that day. He gently opens the door and then—
“Sorry!”
—slams it shut and scurries back to his bedroom.
Oh my god, why does he not lock the door?
If there was one thing Kaveh hadn’t expected to see upon opening the door, it was the sight of his new roommate, shirtless and brushing his teeth. In retrospect, shouting and slamming the door was certainly an overreaction (hopefully one which Alhaitham would not comment on), but shit, could a man not get a warning?!
His back was so… broad, and Kaveh could tell just from a fraction-of-a-second long sight of it that it was well defined, with muscles worthy of an athlete. Just what the hell was Alhaitham doing all day to end up like that? Kaveh already mourns the days he spent in the Akademiya with his cute junior, short and small and adorable. This Alhaitham is anything but!
Kaveh groans, curling up on his bed and trying to forget that he’d seen anything at all. It shouldn’t be such a big deal—it’s not as though he’d caught Alhaitham doing something unseemly—but he still can’t get it out of his head. Probably because he’s very used to seeing Alhaitham with a full set of clothes on, if he allows himself to be rational for a moment.
A knock raps against the wood of his door.
“I am done now.” Alhaitham announces, before his steps echo away in the hall.
As if this night wasn’t embarrassing enough, Kaveh had made him feel the need to give notice of his departure from the bathroom.
“Thank you!” He shouts back, grabbing his things again and making his way to the now unoccupied bathroom. He shuts and locks the door behind himself before he takes his clothes off. He would not let a repeat incident happen, no thank you!
Kaveh makes quick work of washing his body, trying not to think about the planes of his roommate’s body every time he glances at his own as he lathers it with soap. Towel-dried afterwards, he slides on his night clothes, a soft shirt and small shorts, and brushes his teeth and hair before washing his face. It’s hasty, and certainly not his finest work, but he does not feel comfortable occupying the bathroom for a large amount of time, especially not after he’d essentially kicked Alhaitham out of the bathroom in his own house.
Ridiculous, Kaveh tells himself, a ridiculous overreaction to a perfectly normal thing!
Still, despite the normality of the situation, reminders of the incident haunt him as he tries to fall asleep, rolling back and forth on his bed while he attempts to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Eventually, he settles for hugging a pillow while laying on his side, falling into unconsciousness to the gentle harmony of the night outside his window—closer to the city proper than his previous home, there is much more sound here, but it blends into a pleasant white noise as Kaveh’s awareness fades into sleep.
He dreams of fluffy cats in an infinite kitchen.