Chapter Text
When Kaveh lets himself into Alhaitham’s house a little after six in the evening, he expects to find it exactly how he had left it in the morning: the dishes done, the bookshelves dusted and his roommate gone. What he gets instead is—well, not that.
First, he spots Alhaitham’s boots sitting next to the shoe rack by the entrance, one of them toppled over. Second, when he drops his keys into their designated bowl, they mingle with a second, close to identical pair. And lastly, as Kaveh peels himself out of his cape and slips out of his shoes, his eyes fall on a thin sheen of light cutting across the wooden flooring. It leads straight to Alhaitham’s study, the door agape just a hair’s width. Alhaitham’s cape dangles haphazardly from the doorknob.
Irritation begins to stir deep in the pit of Kaveh’s stomach. This is far from what he imagined for his evening when Alhaitham told him that he would be back late tonight. His ideal evening would have looked something like this: a nice hot bath, some soothing music and a glass of wine to make him just the right amount of drowsy to fall asleep easily. Naturally, he could do these things any night of the week, but not without Alhaitham’s unsolicited commenting, which is precisely why he’d been looking forward to tonight.
Kaveh marches towards the study, grabs Alhaitham’s cape and chucks it towards the general direction of the hat stand. Maybe with a little too much force he pushes open the door to reveal Alhaitham lounging in his desk chair, his feet up on the desk and dark eyes peeking just barely over the rim of his book.
“Care to explain why you’re here?” Kaveh snaps in lieu of a greeting.
“This is my house,” Alhaitham says matter-of-factly. The way his face stays completely blank as he says this is infuriating. He doesn’t even bother to put his book down, his eyes moving rhythmically from right to left.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I meant, why are you home?” Kaveh clarifies. “Weren’t you supposed to be out tonight? For some awfully important Akademiya event?”
“Ah. The budgeting dinner.” Alhaitham still hasn’t lifted his eyes from the page. Kaveh wonders if he’s even listening to half of what he’s saying. “I decided my presence wasn’t required, so I took the liberty of declining the invitation.”
“What?!” The way Kaveh knows Alhaitham—and unfortunately, he’s known him long enough—he is ninety-nine percent sure that ‘declining the invitation’ is Alhaitham’s way of saying he couldn’t be bothered to go. Alhaitham clearly values his work-life balance, but it’s not like he works overtime every other day. In fact, he’s almost always home, and even though he doesn’t bring people over to have wild, drunken ragers every other night, it’s still different from having the house to himself. Kaveh knows, technically, that this is not a privilege he should expect, considering the fact he is living here because Alhaitham invited him (on top of covering most of his living expenses). But a couple of hours once in a while? Surely that shouldn’t be too much to ask.
Kaveh steps farther into the room. He stops right in front of the desk, bracing his hands on the outer edge to avoid touching Alhaitham’s naked feet.
“And here I was, hoping I’d get some peace and quiet to myself for once. Of course you have to go and ruin it. Do you actually enjoy making me miserable?”
Alhaitham finally looks at him, one eyebrow raised curiously. “I wasn’t aware I made a lot of noise. Or that you had plans for tonight that would require my absence. Did you want to bring someone over?”
“Well—you don’t actually, but—argh! And—and that’s not what this is about!” Kaveh rakes a hand through his hair, his cheeks feeling hot at the underlying insinuation. “I was just assuming you would not be home, but clearly I was underestimating just how antisocial you are.”
“Should I have informed you in advance that I would be home then?” There is not a sliver of remorse in Alhaitham’s voice. On the contrary, he seems to be enjoying himself.
Kaveh shakes his head in exasperation. “Again, that’s not it at all.” He pauses, sorting all the thoughts floating around his mind. Not many of them are friendly right now.
“Look,” he says then, in an attempt to appeal to the human part of his stubborn roommate. It may not show on the outside frequently, but Kaveh knows it’s there. “Don’t you get lonely spending all this time inside, away from people?”
Alhaitham gives a pensive hum, seemingly contemplating Kaveh’s words. After a brief pause, he says, “I spend most of my day around people at work, so I actually prefer the quiet of my own home over the noise of the masses. And are you not a person? As long as you continue to live here, it will be quite difficult to call myself lonely, don’t you think?”
“Stop avoiding the question. We both know there’s hardly anything you’re getting out of this living arrangement, except someone to do the chores for you. While we’re on the topic, let me remind you that we have a hat rack for a reason. I’m tired of tidying up after you all the time.”
Alhaitham lets out a low sigh, finally putting down his book. “If that is how you choose to interpret our relationship I must say that I disagree, though trying to change your opinion seems a futile effort. That said, you are always free to move out if you no longer desire my company. Or my Mora.”
“You…!” Kaveh’s hands curl into tight fists.
“Unless you can provide another solution?” Alhaitham cuts in, preventing Kaveh from unleashing the string of complaints sitting ready on his tongue.
Another solution?
“Uh,” Kaveh says eloquently. He isn’t sure where this is going. “...will you even consider anything I say?” Alhaitham isn’t exactly the type of person who knows how to appreciate Kaveh’s suggestions or his way of thinking in general. The last time he asked for Kaveh’s input on something it escalated into a fight about indoor decor, so it is well in his right to have doubts about the sincerity of Alhaitham’s words.
Alhaitham gives a noncommittal shrug. “If your suggestion seems worthwhile, sure. It depends on you.”
“You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”
Alhaitham’s arms cross leisurely in front of his chest. “Now why would I do that?”
“You know exactly why,” Kaveh grits out, “but I won’t let you have your way with me this time. So I’ll ask you one last time: Are you willing to hear me out?”
“Yes, I am willing to hear you out, Kaveh.” Alhaitham’s voice stays perfectly level, his eyes firmly on Kaveh’s. There’s no hint of teasing or provocation in his words, which somehow makes them that much more unbelievable. And yet, no biting remarks, no sarcasm follows. Alhaitham just keeps looking at him, calmly waiting for Kaveh to speak.
Kaveh takes a moment to assess the situation: If Alhaitham really is serious he needs to come up with a deal he won’t be able to refuse. Unfortunately, for all the talk he’s been doing so far, he has no idea what to suggest—he never actually believed Alhaitham would let him get this far. The obvious thing would be to work from home while Alhaitham works at the Akademiya, but Kaveh doesn’t have full autonomy over his own work schedule, and using the house for work isn’t exactly what he wants out of this either. He needs Alhaitham out of the house after working hours.
Alhaitham likes peace and quiet. He likes reading and he enjoys letting others know how intelligent he is. Kaveh knows for sure he enjoyed silently lording his extensive reading habits over Kaveh during their student days, completely disregarding how much reading Kaveh did himself, by the way. He used to like collecting poems on the side. But other than that? Kaveh comes up blank, and for a moment, he feels a pang of guilt at the realization of how little he now knows about the person he once used to call his best friend. He wonders if Alhaitham picked up any new hobbies or if he ditched old ones. He never talked about these things to him.
“Erm, join a book club?” he suggests eventually, mostly to break the silence.
Alhaitham exhales slowly. “You can do better than that, senior.”
Kaveh sighs. He should have seen it coming. “Then invite Tighnari and Cyno for drinks once in a while.”
“And let you chew me out for not inviting you, too? Besides, the last time I checked they were your friends.”
Kaveh rolls his eyes. “Please, don’t act like I dragged you into this friendship. I know you consider them your friends, so I’m not accepting that halfhearted excuse.”
“I’m sure you can come up with something better, that’s all I’m trying to say. Use your head, Kaveh.”
Oh, he’s going to kill him.
“Well, I don’t know, okay?” he says, throwing his hands into the air in frustration. “Just– Just start hooking up with someone! Go on a date! Gods know you need some proper social interaction!”
Kaveh expects Alhaitham to shoot him down immediately. He never showed interest in dating, romance or sex, not even when everyone around them started throwing themselves into relationships and chasing after one another in romantic pursuit when they were young. He never once asked Kaveh about his own love life, so Kaveh assumed it didn’t interest him. He always thought it was strangely fitting for someone so strong-minded and self-absorbed like Alhaitham to not want or be in need of romantic or sexual intimacy.
This is why he thinks he must have misheard when Alhaitham removes his feet from the desk, sits upright, and says, “Oh?”
Kaveh blinks. “What?”
“Tell me more,” Alhaitham orders, his face still perfectly relaxed.
“You’re kidding,” Kaveh scoffs, “don’t tell me that caught your attention.”
“Do you doubt your own suggestion?”
Kaveh barks out a laugh. “Get over yourself, Alhaitham. As if I’d believe that you of all people want to date someone.”
Alhaitham doesn’t reply immediately. For a moment he just looks back at Kaveh wordlessly, and Kaveh isn’t sure if he’s thinking or if he’s waiting for Kaveh to crack under his impenetrable stare. He can’t be serious. Kaveh never meant it to be a serious suggestion in the first place. But Alhaitham won’t say anything, and the silence is starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Um, so you’re actually genuinely willing to try dating?” he tries cautiously.
“You seem surprised.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? You’ve never expressed an interest in dating before. I thought that sort of thing was beneath our reclusive scribe.”
“Well, you got that wrong. It’s not that I’m not interested. I just have very specific tastes.”
Kaveh isn’t sure what to do with this new information. Alhaitham? Dating? He can’t picture it.
“So, you want to give me a reason to leave the house once in a while, right?” Alhaitham says, giving Kaveh no more time to dwell on what his specific tastes might be. “At least having a partner to spend time with seems like a better use of my time than waiting for others to finish reading something only to be forced to listen to their uneducated opinions on the literature in question.”
Unexpectedly, a laugh bubbles up Kaveh’s throat. “With that personality of yours, no one in a radius of five hundred thousand kilometers is going to want to date you,” he says. “But don’t fret, my dear junior, there is still hope for you. I have a wide and flourishing net of social contacts. If anyone has the skill and the tools to set you up, it’s me.”
Kaveh hops onto Alhaitham’s desk, leaning into his space. Maybe this can work. Alhaitham’s personality will definitely be a handicap in this operation, but Kaveh has never turned down a good challenge.
“You seem awfully sure of your capabilities for someone who complains about how horrible I am on a daily basis,” Alhaitham replies, the edge of his mouth twitching minutely. Kaveh can tell immediately he’s trying not to laugh.
He clears his throat, avoiding Alhaitham’s piercing eyes. “I hate to say it, but you’re… urgh, well… you’re—you’re not exactly hard on the eyes, okay? If they can ignore your shitty personality, I’ll have you set up with someone in no time. If you’re okay with that, obviously.”
No matter how much Kaveh might want to deny it, Alhaitham is objectively attractive. He has smooth skin, paler than it used to be when he was young, strikingly vibrant eyes the color of the sea, and thick silver hair that Kaveh knows is much softer than it looks. He works out regularly and has the physique to prove it, his biceps and abs needlessly defined for someone who stays indoors and keeps to himself ninety percent of the time. If Kaveh didn’t know better, he might have fallen for him if he saw him walking down the street. Not that Ahaitham needs to know this bit of information.
“I see,” Alhaitham says. He is no longer trying to suppress his smile.
“Don’t get too full of yourself,” Kaveh chides, heat rushing to his cheeks again. He continues hastily, “And you haven’t answered my question yet.”
“I have no recollection of you asking one, but I assume that you meant to ask for my consent. Since I neither have the patience nor the free time to devote myself to this sort of activity, I am more than willing to leave the matchmaking to you.”
“How gracious of you,” Kaveh says dryly. “Anyway. Now that you’ve given your okay, I need some information on what kind of person to look for. I’ll take some notes and start my search from there.” He swings his legs across the table, narrowly avoiding a pot of ink as he goes, until he is fully facing Alhaitham. He grabs a pencil and a small notepad off the desk, flipping through it until a blank page comes up. They are really doing this.
“So, what are the traits you’re looking for in a partner? Any deal breakers?”
Alhaitham leans back in his chair. “I have some requirements,” he starts. “As you would likely agree, a certain level of intellect should be a basic prerequisite. Favorably someone with relevant academic achievements.”
Akademiya graduate / Scholar, Kaveh writes down, biting his tongue to not immediately object. This is something he should probably have expected from Alhaitham.
“Then, let’s see…they should know who they are and what they want in life. They need to be able to stand up for their principles and not bend under other people’s opinions without good reason. They should be passionate about what they do. They need to be capable of making their own decisions. Someone who knows how to use their words. And they need to be able to brew a good cup of coffee.”
“Archons, slow down,” Kaveh says, struggling to keep up. He scribbles down everything Alhaitham said, his head spinning from all the new information. The more he hears, the less clear his thoughts become, all mixing and tumbling over one another. This is what Alhaitham looks for in a person?
“An outgoing person would be preferable,” Alhaitham continues, which Kaveh answers with a snort. With Alhaitham’s personality, anything else would end up in a catastrophe, he thinks, but he writes it down nonetheless.
“Someone who has the sensibility to understand and empathize with those around them,” Alhaitham adds without waiting for Kaveh to finish writing.
“These are very specific,” Kaveh comments, his pencil halting. “Making coffee brewing a requirement? An empath? Not exactly what I’d expect of you.”
Alhaitham shrugs. “Why shouldn’t they be specific? I’ve always presumed everyone has their standards. I’m sure you do, too. Plus, hopefully they’ll be useful to you as judging criteria.”
Kaveh can’t refute what Alhaitham’s just said. Irked, he looks back down at his notes and adds, must tolerate some of his terrible on-the-point logic.
“Ah. Someone I don’t need to spell everything out for,” Alhaitham supplements needlessly. This Kaveh knows. Alhaitham has always been the type to withhold concrete meaning; instead, he likes to provide others with what he assumes to be the necessary tools to decode the message themselves. Kaveh has been on the receiving end of that particular habit one too many times, and if even he gets tired of Alhaitham making him work for it, a potential partner needs to know they will never get to hear the words they want from him. And they need to be accepting of that.
“Anything else?” Kaveh prompts, pencil hovering over the paper.
This time Alhaitham’s voice comes out much softer than expected. He sounds almost hesitant when he says, “Someone I can be myself around.”
Kaveh’s eyes shoot up from his notes, wondering if he misheard. Alhaitham is looking back at him, straight into his eyes. His face is unreadable, the same clean slate he always presents, but his eyes seem to be digging into him, prodding at something deep within. It makes Kaveh feel like he’s being seen through, like Alhaitham has figured something out he couldn’t possibly know without reading Kaveh’s mind.
It’s in Kaveh’s nature to care about how others perceive him, so naturally he tries not to let the ugly sides to his person, the difficult ones, show on the outside—but it comes at a hefty price to uphold such an exterior. Someone who appreciates his unmasked self—this is what he would seek in his own ideal partner for life. Someone to whom he could come home to and unload all of his worries onto without feeling obligated to downplay any of them. Should someone detached like Alhaitham desire something that Kaveh himself craves from the bottom of his heart?
Silence stretches between them—Alhaitham does not elaborate and Kaveh does not find the presence of mind to ask if this is truly something he cares about. Neither does he move to capture any of it on paper. Alhaitham always goes on about how he doesn’t care about others’ opinions of him. This should imply he is always unapologetically himself, so the requirement doesn’t seem to make any sense. Could he be making things up on the spot? It wouldn’t be unheard of. Alhaitham scratches his chin as he seemingly contemplates Kaveh’s hunched form on the desk, his eyes traveling from his face to Kaveh’s hands to his exposed ankles dangling above the floor.
“I’d like someone I can sit in silence with,” Alhaitham concludes eventually, completely ignoring the uncomfortable atmosphere he created. He crosses his arms once more to indicate he has reached the end of his list.
Dumbstruck, Kaveh watches his own hand finally write down the remaining bullet points on Alhaitham’s list. It’s pretty long, longer than Kaveh’s own might have turned out. When he finishes writing, he finds Alhaitham waiting for him calmly, like a patient waiting for his doctor’s verdict about the direness of his seasonal cold.
Kaveh clears his throat and forces himself to keep going. He’ll have ample time to mull over the specifics of Alhaitham’s motivations. “That’s a lot of requirements. Any deal breakers at all?”
“Anything that could be equated to the opposite of what I just described,” Alhaitham says promptly. Kaveh fights the urge to slap him. He’s so annoying.
“So, is there anything in particular that I can focus on, something that is an absolute must have?”
Again, Alhaitham’s answer comes without delay. “All of them.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Kaveh shoots back. “What do you even mean, all of them? I don’t think that sort of superperson even exists! You need to make some compromises, or I’ll still be looking for your partner when we’re old and gray.”
“No, they are all important to me.”
Kaveh lets out a sigh, crossing his legs. It seems he’ll have to resort to abstract theory to drive his point home with Alhaitham. “Are you familiar with the theorem of narrow interests? It describes the idea that the more requirements one has in a search for something, the smaller the number of satisfying results will be. For example, if you were to look for a book on ‘fishing’ in the Akademiya’s database, a thousand results would come up, but if you narrowed it down to ‘fishing’, ‘Samudra Coast’ and ‘springtime’, the number of results would plummet.”
“Simple set theory,” Alhaitham replies, nodding. “Unless (A) equals (B), set (A+B) will always be smaller than sets (A) and (B) separately. I am aware of that, yes.”
Kaveh clicks his tongue. “Well, I hope you are also aware that with all these requirements, you don’t get a set (A+B), or even (A+B+C). Yours is a set comprised of the entire Sumerian alphabet!”
Alhaitham shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. My answer is final. If my requirements are not met, I have no desire to enter a romantic relationship with that person. Which also means that I will most likely continue to be home in the evenings,” Alhaitham says, reminding Kaveh of the reason they’re even having this conversation. Of course Alhaitham would try to make this as difficult for him as humanly possible.
“You cannot be serious.”
“You can back out any time,” Alhaitham says innocently, like he’s being nice by leaving Kaveh the illusion of choice. Of course Kaveh knows that he’s free to do whatever he wants. Alhaitham can’t make him do anything. Unfortunately, he is also aware that by giving up before he’s even tried he’s also compromising his plan to get some much deserved alone time.
“Fine,” he sighs, even though he has no genuine hopes of finding a perfect match, not with this ridiculous amount of requirements. “I’ll find you someone who’s going to sweep you off your smelly feet. And when I do, you will thank your benevolent senior for enriching your abysmal social life, and you will stay out of my hair at least once a week, is that clear?”
After a moment of deliberation, possibly on the odor of his own feet, Alhaitham nods. “I accept.”
“And,” Kaveh continues, “you will at least meet every candidate I pick at least once, no arguing.”
Alhaitham’s eyebrows pull together at that, but to Kaveh’s surprise, he nods once again.
“Great, that’s settled then.” Kaveh rips off the piece of paper he took his notes on and hops off the desk, circling around it. “If you’ll allow it, I’ll go take a shower now. And if I hear a single comment about my hot water usage I am personally locking you out of the house for good.”
“Suit yourself,” is all Alhaitham says to that, the edge of his mouth twitching in a way that seems to say, “I’d like to see you try.” Kaveh can’t wait to rid himself of that terrible smirk once a week.
“I will, thank you very much,” he snarks back, leaving Alhaitham behind in the study to run himself a much needed bath.
The next morning, when Kaveh wakes up to the peaceful quiet of their shared house, he can’t help but wonder if he didn’t dream last night’s conversation up. Alhaitham, expressing interest in dating all of a sudden? Not very likely. And the fact that he was seemingly willing to accommodate Kaveh’s need for alone time—even letting Kaveh decide how to go about it—sounds too good to be true. Why now? Why entrust his personal relationships to Kaveh? Granted, setting Alhaitham up with someone was not how Kaveh imagined their deal to turn out, much less considering how picky Alhaitham seems to be with his romantic partners and the amount of work that is going to add to his ever growing pile of to-dos. But still, something about the whole thing feels off. He shouldn’t have taken Alhaitham seriously. Surely he’ll come out of his room in a minute and tell him as much.
Still, now that they’ve actually talked about it, the thought of Alhaitham’s non-existent love life won’t let go of his mind. Has he ever dated before? Kaveh chews on his lip as he mulls it over, pouring his first cup of coffee of the day. Even when they were friends, it was exclusively Kaveh who would go on dates here and there, none of which Alhaitham showed interest in. If Kaveh remembers correctly, the only time he ever commented on his dating habits, he’d said something about how Kaveh should focus on himself instead of other people. When Kaveh asked him to elaborate he went back to his book and ignored him, lips pressed together tightly. After they parted ways Kaveh didn’t exactly keep track of Alhaitham outside of his academic work (quite the opposite, actually), so it wasn’t entirely impossible he met someone he liked during that time. If he thinks about it, it’s purely the nature of their current living arrangement and the fact that Alhaitham has never brought anyone home in the months Kaveh has spent living here that gives him the confidence to say he at least hasn’t been seeing anyone recently. Anything that happened before that remains a mystery.
Shaking his head, Kaveh gulps down his coffee. To be honest, even if Alhaitham was serious last night and he is actually expecting him to play matchmaker for him, he has no clue where to start. In his head, he cycles through a tentative list of acquaintances, friends, former and current clients, students, teachers and classmates who might make the cut, but he quickly decides he’ll have to be more methodical about his search than that. It’s possible Alhaitham will pester him for his reasoning the moment he suggests someone, so he’ll have to be thorough. If, he reminds himself. If Alhaitham isn’t just making fun of him. He’ll have to reconfirm that.
Also, he realizes, he should have asked Alhaitham more specific questions concerning age range, gender and looks. However, he can’t ask Alhaitham about these things now, because one, Alhaitham is still asleep, and two, there is no way in hell he is going to wake him up. He’d rather walk into a hilichurl camp blindfolded and weaponless than risk exposing himself to Alhaitham’s sleepy wrath and the possibility of getting laughed at all at the same time.
With a groan, Kaveh decides to spare himself the headache for now and get started with breakfast.
If there is one thing living with Alhaitham has taught Kaveh it’s that he can barely eat without entertaining himself with something to read at the same time. Usually it’ll be a book, but sometimes he picks the newspaper instead. He complains when Kaveh cooks soup or stew, apparently because it’s hard to eat while reading, so he decides to make an exception today to cater to Alhaitham’s tastes. If they are really going to put last night’s plan into motion, it surely won’t hurt to butter him up a little. Humming to himself, Kaveh sets about cutting up vegetables into bite sized pieces and arranging them on a plate to be dipped into various pastes they keep in the refrigerator. After he’s done with that, he sets a pot of water to boil on the stove for eggs. Alhaitham still hasn’t gotten up by the time he’s set the table—vegetables, eggs, jams and pastes, some cheese and nuts—so he takes the opportunity to pop by the bakery around the corner to fetch some freshly baked naan.
Eventually, it appears to be the fragrance of the bread that lures Alhaitham out of his bedroom. Rubbing his eyes, he materializes by the door just as Kaveh contemplates making more coffee.
“Good morning,” Kaveh says, gesturing to the table. “A second round of coffee is on its way.”
“Morning,” Alhaitham replies, not bothering to suppress an enormous yawn as he drops into his chair to await his first dose of caffeine.
Breakfast is a fairly amicable affair. Today seems to be a newspaper kind of day. Alhaitham isn’t very talkative, but it’s fine. He can have his silence while he peruses the newspaper. Kaveh notes with satisfaction that one piece after another most of the veggies disappear into Alhaitham’s mouth, followed by mouthfuls of bread and eggs. Alhaitham usually isn’t fussy about his meals, but he rarely shovels food into his mouth like he is today. Kaveh could be off to a good start.
“Thanks for preparing this,” Alhaitham says when he is done, standing to collect their plates and drop them into the sink. “Maybe I should have added cooking to my list,” he adds, causing Kaveh to choke on his last bite of bread.
Here he was racking his brain to decide on how to broach the topic without making himself a target to Alhaitham’s merciless teasing, while Alhaitham acts like it’s hardly any stranger a topic than the weather.
“So—that’s still something—something you want,” Kaveh manages, pounding his fist against his sternum to stop the coughing.
Alhaitham turns to him, his hand hovering over the faucet. “Are you perhaps having second thoughts about our arrangement?
“ No, ” Kaveh says with too much vigor. “I was simply verifying your level of commitment. Considering past conversations I’ve had the displeasure of having with you I do think that to be in order. Anyway, with that out of the way, let me ask you one more question.” Kaveh stands, collecting a couple jars of paste off the table. He stows them away in the fridge, and when he lifts his head and steps away from it, Alhaitham is still waiting for him to ask his question. An unpleasant shiver runs down Kaveh’s back with all of Alhaitham’s attention focused on him like that.
With one hand propped on his hip, Kaveh says, “I need more information from you, like what’s too young or too old, and if you want me to look exclusively for women or…” He trails off, letting Alhaitham complete the question for him. It isn’t embarrassment per se that has the words dying on his tongue. It’s the novelty of bringing up a topic like this with someone like Alhaitham that makes it feel imperative that he say the right things at the right time. For all Kaveh knows, Alhaitham has the romantic and sexual range of a rock, so there is no way of knowing without asking directly.
“Age isn’t an issue as long as they’re not considerably younger than me. Preferably, a little older,” Alhaitham says, his hand finally pulling at the faucet. Water starts streaming into the sink with a hiss. Kaveh watches Alhaitham squirt liquid soap onto a sponge before he starts cleaning off the first plate.
“I don’t have a preference for one specific gender,” Alhaitham continues over the rush of the water, “but I realize that isn’t very conducive to your search, so I’d like you to look for a man. That should about halve your pool of candidates, but I’m afraid I can’t give you any more hints.”
Alhaitham’s face doesn’t give away any emotion at all. It’s perfectly neutral, the set of his jaw relaxed and his eyes focused on the delicate plates and bowls stacked in the sink. It’s the same face he used to wear when answering factual questions in class. Kaveh’s hand falls to his side, his insides feeling gooey all of a sudden. For a moment he’s lost for words as he tries to bring these revelations into line with his roommate’s character. Belatedly, he realizes that his mouth was hanging open.
“Huh, who would have thought? I for one wouldn’t have been surprised if our dear scribe wasn’t interested in anyone, regardless of gender.”
“I never said that. It seems to me like you aren’t very good at reading people. Or, remembering conversations,” Alhaitham says casually as he turns off the faucet and grabs a rag to dry off the dishes.
“Tch, speak for yourself,” Kaveh replies, glad for the change of tone. This is what he knows. This is their normal. The weird honesty feels uncalled for, inappropriate even. They aren’t exactly friends, so it feels like Kaveh shouldn’t know intimate details about Alhaitham anymore. He bites his lip, turning to finish cleaning up the table and hoping that this brings their conversation to a close. He’s heard everything he needs for now.
“Well, I’m looking forward to meeting your first candidate soon,” Alhaitham says, sending him a strange look before he exits the kitchen, probably to get ready for work. Kaveh is left behind, exhaling loudly into the quiet morning air. He casts a glance at the calendar hanging by the door and resists the urge to sigh again at the stark red circle at the end of the week marking his most pressing deadline. With that coming up it’ll be a piece of work to play matchmaker for Alhaitham as well. For once, he isn’t sure if a few all-nighters are going to be enough to get all of this done in time.
Two days (and two sleepless nights) later, Kaveh has finished about seventy percent of his blueprint but has made no considerable progress concerning Alhaitham’s dating situation.
It’s late afternoon. The sound of children playing outside and the chatter of passers-by carry inside through the half-opened windows. When Kaveh tears himself away from his work to get himself a glass of water from the kitchen, he staggers and his vision flashes black for a moment, his stomach roiling. At the last moment he catches himself, one hand on the wall, but even when he starts to make his way through the hallway, the feeling of nausea won’t go away. The signs are clear—even though Kaveh tends to ignore them, he knows that this is body signaling to him that he’s been going too fast on too little fuel for too long.
“Urgh, why now,” Kaveh gripes to himself. He can’t be getting sick now. He doesn’t have the time. Keeping his head up suddenly feels like a herculean task with how heavy it is, and his fingers shake when he finally manages to pour himself a glass of water and lift it to his lips. He hopes it’ll help clear his mind, but all it does is worsen his nausea.
“Get some rest,” is what Alhaitham would say. “I told you not to overwork,” he’d nag, like an overly doting mother.
Kaveh clicks his tongue at the imaginary Alhaitham. He’s an adult who knows the limits of his own body, thank you very much. Still, he somehow feels like he’s lost when he lies down on his bed, his eyes falling closed immediately. He can’t risk throwing up all over his blueprints, he tells himself, sinking deeper into the comfort of a bed he hasn’t lain in in two days.
When he was still a kid, his father would sit at his bedside and read him stories to take his mind off of the pain. His mother would bring him fresh fruit, plenty of water, and check his temperature, all while whispering soothing words to him. Now, he is alone. His father no longer walks the Earth, and his mother lives many hundred kilometers away, in a foreign country with a man Kaveh has never met. It’s moments like this that make him want to curl up into a ball and disappear, the world feeling too big for someone as small as him.
If only he had someone to take care of him. A gentle girlfriend, perhaps, who would make him a hearty chicken soup to help him regain his strength. A boyfriend, maybe, who would keep him company, someone who he could complain to and be soothed by words of rationality, a strong, warm body to curl up against. Instead he is alone. Not even Alhaitham will be home tonight. He’s been gone since yesterday, for a trip to the desert. At first Kaveh was overjoyed to hear it, welcoming the alone time. Now he wishes, just a little bit, that he could at least ask him to take care of dinner tonight. At this rate he will likely be skipping it, even though he knows it’s a bad idea. His eyes stay closed firmly, and for a while he allows himself to just wither away in solitude.
Speaking of chicken soup, doesn’t it smell a bit salty in here? Kaveh cannot pinpoint when he first caught the familiar scent, but now it’s strong enough for him to be sure. Someone’s cooking chicken soup today. The neighbors, perhaps? The next house is a couple hundred meters away, but it’s not impossible. He inhales deeply, saliva collecting in his mouth. The things he’d do for a bowl of that soup right now. The scent is so strong he wouldn’t be surprised to open his eyes and find a bowl sitting next to his bed.
“You’re awake,” someone says then, and Kaveh startles from his half-sleep. His eyes fly open, a bowl of steaming hot chicken and rice soup entering his field of vision almost immediately. Behind it a blur of dark green and black moves back and forth.
“Kaveh,” the voice says again, louder this time, “you look terrible.”
“Alhaitham?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten where you are. Do you know what date it is?”
“Very funny,” Kaveh snaps, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. It’s gotten dark outside and the only sound that remains is the chirping of cicadas in the flower bed by the entrance. Kaveh must have accidentally slept for several hours. Alhaitham is sitting on a stool by his bed, exasperation written all over his face.
“Why are you home already? You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”
“Work wrapped up quicker than expected,” Alhaitham says. “Looks like I returned just in time. It would have been quite an unpleasant experience to find you dead on the floor if I had come back any later.”
Kaveh makes a face. “Don’t act like you’re my caretaker.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t want the soup? In that case—”
“I didn’t say that,” Kaveh interjects, snatching the bowl from Alhaitham’s hands. Heat seeps into Kaveh’s clammy fingers from the surface of the lacquered porcelain, steam wafting enticingly around him. His stomach growls like a starving beast when he takes the first bite, betraying how badly he’s been in need of a good meal.
“Thanks,” he mumbles around a mouthful of soup, taking little care to swallow before shoveling the next spoonful into his mouth.
A deep crease forms between Alhaitham’s eyebrows. “You wouldn’t have to be thanking me if you would finally learn to properly take care of yourself. You can’t expect others to pick up your slack every time,” he chides. “I told you to get more sleep.”
“Can’t you spare me the nagging until after I’ve recovered?” Kaveh mutters. This is not what he needs to hear right now.
“I might not always be there to take care of you.”
“I don’t need taking care of.”
“Sure,” Alhaitham says. He takes the empty bowl from Kaveh and sets it down on the bedside table. With a small pang of guilt, Kaveh notices a jug of water and a box of pills sitting next to it.
“You know I’m not saying this to sow animosity between us. If you do not wish to rely on me you need to learn how to tend to your own needs.”
“I don’t need your pity, Alhaitham, and I told you I’m fine— ”
Suddenly, a shadow falls across Kaveh’s face, stopping him in the middle of speaking and blocking his vision—then, something cool and firm presses against his sweaty forehead. It’s Alhaitham’s hand. Kaveh flinches, pulling away, but Alhaitham’s hand is already retreating as quickly as it touched him.
“No fever. You got off lucky this time,” is all Alhaitham says, paying Kaveh’s reaction no mind. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
Kaveh averts his eyes, his head spinning again. He can still feel the ghost of Alhaitham’s fingertips on his skin. What the hell was that?
“I’m fine, as I was trying to tell you before you interrupted me,” he hisses. “You can leave now, I’m going back to sleep.”
The rustling of fabric and the creak of the floorboards tell Kaveh Alhaitham has gotten to his feet. “I’m glad to hear it. It would be in your best interest to ensure this won’t happen again,” comes his voice from above. “This was in the mail for you, by the way.”
“Huh?”
Something light flops into Kaveh’s lap. He looks up just enough to see that it is a letter, but he doesn’t recognize the handwriting on the envelope. He flips it over to see who it’s from.
Payam, Main Street 12, Gandharva Ville
Kaveh’s heartbeat picks up. He doesn’t know what he expected, but he knows for sure that he did not expect the manifestation of luck to flutter right onto his doorstep today. How did he not think of Payam! It is not the name itself, but the possibility this letter holds that compels Kaveh to look up and grab a hold of Alhaitham’s sleeve. Excitement pulses through his veins, his pounding headache momentarily forgotten.
Alhaitham’s eyes flash in the dim light, his body frozen in place.
“What is it? Do you need anything else?”
Kaveh sends him a winning smile. “Oh no, my dear junior. All I need is for you to keep your schedule open,” he says, waving the envelope in front of Alhaitham’s blank face. “Because this is your ticket to your first date in gods know how long!”
Kaveh met Payam about one year ago at an open lecture held by Tighnari in Gandharva Ville. Back then, Kaveh himself found him to be quite attractive. He was tall and strands of black hair gently framed his deep brown eyes. While he had no understanding of the architectural challenges construction in the rainforest brought with it (which Kaveh gave a brief talk about), he spoke in a way that captured his audience, and even now, one year later, Kaveh can easily recall the clear and even tone of his voice. He was an Amurta graduate, but he worked in translation on the side, something Alhaitham should certainly take an interest in. He opened up about his interest in men to Kaveh after Kaveh complimented him on his presentation on homosexual behaviors observed in birds. Nothing came of their new acquaintance, but now Kaveh is glad he took the time to approach Payam that day.
The contents of Payam’s letter are insubstantial, inquiries about Kaveh’s wellbeing, some polite scholarly smalltalk. At the end however, he conveniently mentions an upcoming visit to Sumeru City, which presents Kaveh with the chance he was hoping for. It takes a little bit of convincing on Kaveh’s part, since it was originally him Payam was hoping to meet, but in the next letter he receives, Payam agrees to meeting Alhaitham as well. When he tells Alhaitham the news, his reaction is lukewarm—it barely gets a word out of him, but he doesn’t refuse. Kaveh agreed to Alhaitham’s conditions, so he has to respect Kaveh’s as well.
In the days that follow, Kaveh regains full health. He finishes his commission with only one additional all-nighter, which in his book counts as a success. Alhaitham seems less impressed, but Kaveh can’t be bothered to care. It’s not like Alhaitham has ever made an effort to understand him in that regard. Neither is this what he wants of him right now—he’ll be just fine if he starts giving him some space, the possibility of which now greater than ever.
Payam arrives on a warm Sunday. Sumeru City is bustling with people, merchants, shoppers and visitors mixing on the streets and weaving between stalls. The tables on the terrace in front of Puspa Café have all been taken, each chock full with little delicacies. Kaveh and Alhaitham meet up with Payam in front of the café, and for a moment Kaveh gets the feeling that Alhaitham tenses up next to him.
“Kaveh!” Payam greets, waving at the two of them. “It’s been ages since I last saw you! Everything going alright?”
Kaveh notes that Payam hasn’t changed much since he last saw him. His dark blond hair has gotten longer. He tucks a strand of it behind his ear, revealing a beauty mark right at the outer corner of his eye.
“Welcome to Sumeru City,” Kaveh says. “It’s going great! I haven’t had work in the rainforest in a while though, or else I would have swung by to say hello! Oh, please excuse me. This is Alhaitham, who I told you about. He’s my…” Kaveh blanks. What is Alhaitham to him exactly? They’re not friends, but calling him an acquaintance doesn’t fit the bill either.
“I’m Kaveh’s friend,” Alhaitham supplies effortlessly. Kaveh turns his head reflexively, his mouth half open. The word ‘friend’ rings strangely in his head. Is that what Alhaitham thinks of him? That Alhaitham? Surely not. Alhaitham doesn’t look at Kaveh, but he doesn’t say anything more either. Neither does he show any inclination to offer his hand to Payam for that matter. If anything, that stony face is going to scare Payam off if Kaveh doesn’t intervene. He swallows, sweat collecting at the small of his back.
“Nice to meet you too,” Payam says, but his amber eyes stay firmly on Kaveh instead. “Are you sure you don’t have time to join us for coffee, Kaveh? I was hoping to hear your recommendations.”
Kaveh waves him off with a laugh. “I’m a little busy today, I’m really sorry. But I can assure you Alhaitham knows the menu just as well as I do. We’ve been here a million times, so I don’t think there’s anything on there we haven’t tried. Plus, he’s really picky, which can be a pain in the ass, but if he says something is good you can trust him.”
“If you say so,” Payam returns with a tight-lipped smile, shooting Alhaitham a cautionary glance. Kaveh can’t blame him. He does feel a little guilty for roping Payam into this. He’ll have to make it up to him somehow. Unless Alhaitham turns out to be much more charming than he has ever let on, of course.
“Join me for drinks tomorrow night? My treat,” he offers, hoping to lift Payam’s mood.
Payam nods. “I’ll be there.”
“Alright. I should get going,” Kaveh continues, giving Alhaitham a warning glare. Don’t you dare misbehave, he thinks at him, hoping that the words somehow get through to his roommate. “Have fun, you two.”
Payam’s smile widens a fraction, but the moment he looks back at Alhaitham his smile falters, his hands coming together hesitantly in front of him.
“Let’s get to it then,” Alhaitham says with the attitude of a project leader opening a meeting on funding. Kaveh resists the urge to slap him. Before he can reconsider, Alhaitham and Payam head for the entrance to the café. Kaveh watches their backs until they disappear inside, wondering darkly if drinks would be enough to repay the favor to Payam.
Dirt clings to the underside of Kaveh’s fingernails. His back hurts and his knees ache from kneeling on concrete for too long, but replanting the flowers in the little flower bed in front of the house still makes for a better pastime than staring at the ceiling of his room.
Ever since he got back to the house, for some unfathomable reason, he’s been unable to think about anything other than Payam and Alhaitham’s date. On one hand he is almost one hundred percent sure it’s going to end up in a disaster, which would be uncomfortable for all parties involved. On the other hand, there is the slim chance that Alhaitham somehow manages to make himself look like a nice person and that the two unexpectedly hit it off. Alhaitham knows how to act and be nice in theory, but Kaveh doubts that he’ll make use of those skills unless he gets serious. Perhaps Payam manages to pique Alhaitham’s interest with his skills as a translator, causing Alhaitham to fall madly in love with him? Kaveh’s stomach inexplicably twists at the thought—the disconnect between this imaginary Alhaitham and his real, very intentionally unpleasant self is too great, he reasons. Despite this, just to illustrate the eventuality of the unlikely event that this date turns out to be a success, Kaveh tries to imagine Alhaitham bringing Payam back to their home, holding his hand. Thanking Kaveh for introducing him to his new boyfriend. Apologizing for any possible noise Kaveh might overhear from Alhaitham’s room. In an instant the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach intensifies, icy cold tendrils snaking around his insides and squeezing. Kaveh clenches his fist, soil raining to the ground. If his plan eventually succeeds, will he end up an unwitting witness to the specifics of Alhaitham’s sex life? No, no, no. What am I thinking!? He shakes his head violently, forcing himself to refocus on the mint seedling hanging its head limply from Kaveh’s fist. He relaxes his hand in an attempt to salvage the innocent little plant. That’s not going to happen, he tells himself. If anything, Alhaitham is supposed to visit Payam at his home, not the other way around. There’s no guarantee Alhaitham’s even interested in that sort of thing. And even if he is, it’s none of Kaveh’s business.
It is long after Kaveh finishes his work on the flower bed that Alhaitham returns. Kaveh lounges on one of the couches in the living room, busying himself with a catalog from the furniture trade fair he visited a while ago, when he registers the click of the lock on the front door. His heart leaps into his throat the moment Alhaitham’s silhouette appears at the door, his cape slung casually across one arm.
“Hi,” Kaveh manages, his mouth dry.
“Hello.” Alhaitham drops his cape on the armrest of one of the other sofas before taking a seat. Kaveh’s eyes follow his every motion, trying to glean information on how his date went. Alhaitham crosses his legs, a mild smile playing around his lips, and looks at Kaveh from across the coffee table.
“Huh?” Kaveh blurts. He’s—he’s smiling? Does that mean—? “Hold on, hold on, don’t tell me—” Kaveh half stands, half tumbles off the couch, holding himself up with his palms pressed flat to the surface of the coffee table. His magazine flutters to the floor.
“Looks like you’re more excited about this than I am,” Alhaitham starts. That irritating smile sits firmly on his lips, making Kaveh’s knees feel like they’re about to give out.
“W-why wouldn’t I be? You’re making me go through all this just to get some alone time after all!”
“That’s one way to put it, certainly.”
Kaveh swallows. “And?”
“And?” Alhaitham parrots, clearly enjoying seeing Kaveh so nervous. Coming to think of it, Kaveh himself can’t quite place the nervousness swirling around the pit of his stomach. Most of it gets overshadowed by a fresh bout of irritation at Alhaitham’s superfluous teasing.
“Don’t play dumb. How did it go? Judging from that annoying smile I assume it went pretty well?”
Alhaitham takes a deep breath. “Not at all. For one, it was obvious that Payam came to see you, not me. All we talked about was you. At some point he even had the gall to ask me to put in a good word with you. Did you even tell him that it was supposed to be a date?”
Kaveh blinks rapidly. “You—what? Come on, he didn’t come just for me. We barely know each other, there’s no way he had any bad intentions. And of course I told him it was a date, who do you take me for?”
“Let me think,” Alhaitham says, his eyes glinting in amusement. “A bad matchmaker, for example? Calling me picky and rubbing it in his face how much time you and I spend together? I was genuinely surprised he even went along with it after that.”
Kaveh feels his face erupt into flame. “I did not imply that! I’m sure he didn’t take it that way either!”
“He most definitely did take it that way. Did it not occur to you that he might get the wrong idea about you and me if you say things like that?”
“The wrong—! No, of course not!” Kaveh waves his hand frantically in the air. “No one would look at us and think of that for even a second! Don’t be ridiculous!”
Alhaitham huffs out a laugh. “Well, it seems that Payam did think of it, for more than a second. I think it’s safe to say I won’t be seeing him again.”
With a groan, Kaveh collapses back onto the couch, his face buried in his hands. His cheeks burn against the skin of his palms. Him and Alhaitham? Payam, you idiot! Not even in his wildest dreams (or nightmares for that matter) would Kaveh think of Alhaitham that way, and neither would Alhaitham. Perhaps Payam has spent too much time researching the mating habits of birds and lost touch with human reality, Kaveh’s affronted mind supplies.
Alhaitham continues, “Well, this was just a trial run, right? There are very few experiments that succeed on the first attempt. Though, maybe next time try to set me up with someone who is not trying to get with you.”
“Very funny,” Kaveh sighs, dropping his hands in his lap. He doesn’t know what to make of the strange feeling of relief washing over him, so he opts to frown at Alhaitham instead.
Alhaitham stands then, picking up his cape. After a moment, he walks over to Kaveh and bends down next to him. “Here,” he says, handing Kaveh the crinkled magazine. “I brought back some leftovers for you by the way. They’re in the fridge. Oh, and one last thing. Don’t be too disappointed if Payam doesn’t show up at the tavern tomorrow. I think I might have said some things to him he didn’t like.”
With a pat on Kaveh’s shoulder Alhaitham stalks off, not even turning around when Kaveh shouts at him to come back and explain himself.
Naturally, when he keeps an eye out for Payam the next evening, Kaveh is not surprised to find him absent. It doesn’t sit right with him to part ways without being able to explain himself properly, but he is given little time to overthink. Alhaitham stops by Kaveh’s favorite table some time later, treating him to a goblet of Dawn Winery’s famous Dandelion Wine. Before long Kaveh is just the right amount of tipsy, a comfortable weight settling on his shoulders. As he tries and fails not to laugh at one of Alhaitham’s dry impressions of the previous Grand Sage, any lingering thoughts of Payam are soon forgotten.
The House of Daena is not only an architectural marvel, but it houses more than one hundred thousand books, theses, papers, and other scholarly publications on a myriad different topics. Kaveh’s own graduation thesis as well as several articles he published are archived in the halls of the Akademiya’s library, next to other scholars’ labors of love. Before the Akasha terminal was turned off, it took less than a second to perform a search for any one title or topic. With the Akasha gone, one has no other choice but to physically go to the House of Daena and use the local database to look for information. Like many of his junior scholars, Kaveh finds himself poring over one of the screens set up in the entrance area of the library one early morning, sifting through pages and pages of hits.
The reason he came here is simple. So simple in fact that he was surprised he didn’t come up with the idea earlier. Last night, when he went over Alhaitham’s list once again before going to bed, he tried figuring out how to further narrow down his pool of potential partners. His eyes kept circling back to the very first point he had noted down, which called for scholarly achievements. That’s when it dawned on him. What better way to filter out unfitting candidates than by using an actual filtering mechanism?
Kaveh is aware that it won’t be easy contacting people he hasn’t in some way or other met in person before, and he is not about to ruin his reputation among his seniors, so that serves to further limit his options. Still, with all the specific criteria Kaveh typed in, the database still spit out more than fifty pages of results, each consisting of twenty separate entries. And that is just for publications from the last three years. The system won’t allow him to filter by age or gender, so Kaveh has to click his way through near endless link trees to investigate further.
Like that, hours pass within the blink of an eye. From time to time, a name catches Kaveh’s eye, compelling him to deepen his search in one direction or another. There’s a Haravatat scholar researching a topic close to Alhaitham’s area of interest. Kaveh finds several publications under his name, and the short blurb on the inside of one of his books reveals that he’s only in his mid-thirties. There’s a photo, too. Short brown hair, freckles, a button nose one could describe as cute if so inclined. He’s not Kaveh’s type, but since Alhaitham didn’t specify any preferences concerning appearances he should not find much to complain about in that regard. Kaveh has never talked to this man before, but now that he finds himself staring at his name, he remembers that he has heard someone else talking about him: Alhaitham.
“He might be onto something here,” he’d muttered, marking a section in the book he’d been reading at the time. “I like his way of thinking.” Kaveh doesn’t know how much Alhaitham ended up citing from his work, but he knows some of it ended up in one of Alhaitham’s papers because Kaveh eventually proofread it for him in exchange for free drinks.
Scratching his head, Kaveh turns the book over in his hands. Of course he doesn’t know anything about this guy’s personality, but he’s a promising candidate. Intelligent, good-looking, not too young. Maybe Kaveh wouldn’t even have to break the ice for them, because Alhaitham already knows him. Kaveh bites his lip, debating whether to make this guy his next pick or to continue searching. Would Alhaitham really go along with this? Would he like this guy in a non-professional way? Would they have anything to talk about other than research? Kaveh can’t find satisfactory answers to any of these questions, so he returns the book to the shelf and plops himself down in front of the screen again.
It should be illegal for him to be so considerate of Alhaitham’s feelings when he has never spared Kaveh’s. Alhaitham calls him out any chance he gets. He has to dissect and comment on each and every of Kaveh’s decisions, and even when Kaveh has clearly won an argument he still acts like he let him win on purpose. Kaveh would like to see Alhaitham go to these lengths to do him a favor like this. A laugh escapes him at the sheer absurdity of the thought.
There are two more people he looks into, each more promising than the last, but there is something that tells Kaveh they are not perfect for Alhaitham. Alhaitham needs someone who can stomach the teasing, the hyper-logical way he structures his day, and his need for privacy. He needs someone to bounce ideas off of, someone who is not afraid to oppose his way of thinking. Kaveh has seen Alhaitham interact with his peers when they were students, becoming a first hand witness to Alhaitham’s knack for driving people away. At the time Kaveh didn’t know it, but he too would eventually be driven away. If it weren’t for Kaveh’s bankruptcy, he is sure that he never again would have exchanged another word with Alhaitham, and even though they are somehow making it work, living with Alhaitham has proven difficult. Not all of it—there are some upsides to it, even Kaveh has to admit. Splitting housework, sharing meals or talking over a glass of wine then and again are a few of the little things Kaveh has come to appreciate. They’ve recently started bringing home leftovers for each other, which is a nice perk. But is there anyone else out there who would gladly take Kaveh’s place? Someone willing to memorize the way Alhaitham takes his coffee, someone willing to listen to his monologues on ancient scripts?
Kaveh knew this wasn’t going to be easy right from the start, but the more he thinks about it, the clearer it becomes that there are probably less than a handful of people on this planet who can handle Alhaitham’s temperament. He’s picky about food, he doesn’t hesitate to nag, he has no respect for seniority and he acts like a smartass ninety-nine percent of the time. Any person with even an ounce of self-worth would do good to run away from a life with someone like Alhaitham. It borders on a miracle that Kaveh held on for so long.
No, he decides eventually. He won’t find Alhaitham’s ideal partner in the House of Daena’s database. Looking at words on a screen tells him nothing about these people. Alhaitham may no longer be his friend, but he cannot deny that a part of him still cares for him. He can’t set him up with some random person he doesn’t even know and maintain a clean conscience. There has to be someone better than the people he investigated today, someone who will accept and love Alhaitham for who he is. And as much as he wishes it weren’t true, as someone who used to call himself his best friend, he owes Alhaitham that. If they are going to do this he wants to do it right.
“So I was thinking,” Kaveh says, his legs folded comfortably under him on the sofa. “Since your date with Payam was a bit of a failure, why don’t we change course and try something else?”
The patter of the rain against the window glass ebbs off into background noise as Alhaitham closes the windows and crosses the room to join Kaveh on the couch. Two glasses, a bottle of wine, and a bowl of roasted nuts are already waiting for them on the coffee table. It’s their usual Friday night activity—Alhaitham never makes plans that require him to get up early on weekends, and Kaveh needs a break before he starts working on his designs for another hour or two before bed, so things fell into place naturally.
Alhaitham pulls one of his legs up onto the couch, turning slightly to face Kaveh. “Oh? What are you thinking of?”
“Look, so I was at the House of Daena the other day, trying to figure out how to go about finding your person, and I think it’s best to rely on genuine face-to-face interaction. Looking for people with just a list to offer some guidance feels too forced. It’s not organic at all.”
“Matchmaking doesn’t exactly qualify as an organic way of meeting people either,” Alhaitham says, an eyebrow cocked.
“I know. That’s why it’s even more important to at least make it feel that way. I know of some events that are held regularly, so I’ll look into those, but how about you start leaving the house more in the meantime? You’re not going to meet your dream boyfriend by sitting around at home all day.”
Alhaitham grabs a handful of nuts from the bowl and pops one into his mouth. “I was under the impression you were the one in charge of finding someone for me. Am I mistaken?”
“No, but—I need you to cooperate to some extent! You can’t let me do all the work. At least go out with me to the tavern more often! There’s always people there, and gods know you need some serious training on how to interact with other human beings. When did you last date anyone anyway?”
Kaveh asks the question without much thought, but part of him has been wondering for a while. Alhaitham claims to have at least some level of interest in romantic relationships, or otherwise he wouldn’t be going along with their arrangement. The question is, how much experience does he have?
Chewing casually on his nut, Alhaitham lets out a low hum. “Sometime before graduation, if I recall correctly. It didn’t last very long, but I suppose it counts.”
Kaveh’s first reaction is to grab the wine bottle. He fiddles with the cork, trying to untangle the ornamental plastic strings holding it in place. “Oh—when, exactly? Before our joint research project, or…?” It’s stupid, but for some reason Kaveh feels like depending on Alhaitham’s answer, his own self-confidence might just crumble to pieces.
“Before,” Alhaitham says, and Kaveh feels something heavy settling on his chest. That means they were still friends at the time. Even though Alhaitham has never been overly expressive about his feelings, Kaveh’s heart constricts at the thought that Alhaitham hadn’t come to him for advice or to share his experience with him.
“Um, so why didn’t it work out?”
“It wasn’t love,” Alhaitham says simply. He takes the bottle from Kaveh’s hands, gesturing for him to get their glasses while Alhaitham finishes opening the bottle.
“How did you know? Maybe it would have worked out with a bit of effort.”
Alhaitham pours Kaveh a glass of wine, then holds it out for him to take. Their fingers brush when Kaveh accepts it, and Kaveh is sure he’s imagining it, but for a second he thinks Alhaitham’s hand lingers, chasing after him. When Kaveh looks up, Alhaitham is focused on pouring his own glass.
“It wasn’t meant to last. We were both inexperienced, and our relationship served no purpose other than experimentation. By the time I realized I had feelings for someone else, my partner had figured out as much, so we ended things.”
“Wh—someone else? Why did you never tell me about all this?” The wine sloshes dangerously in Kaveh’s glass as he leans over to grab Alhaitham’s arm to force him to look at him.
Alhaitham’s teeth dig into his bottom lip for a moment, his eyes staring at a spot somewhere behind Kaveh. “It never came up, and it’s not like I ever dated that person. It was one-sided, so I didn’t think it necessary to bother you about something like that when you were busy working on the side to help kickstart your career.”
“But still! I can’t believe you never even mentioned anything. I could have helped you! That’s what best friends are for!”
Alhaitham shakes his head, gently prying Kaveh’s hand off his arm. “It’s not a big deal. Let’s get back to the topic, shall we?”
Grinding his teeth, Kaveh decides to let it go. It’s no use trying to get Alhaitham to elaborate when he clearly doesn’t want to share any more details. Instead he takes a sip of his wine, its distinct sourness making his tongue curl. “Um, okay, well, that means you haven’t been seeing anyone since then, right? In that case, we really need to get you out of the house more. With how much you’ve been hiding out in your study these days I’m having trouble believing you’re even interested in dating again.”
“I am interested. I’m just aware that my tastes are very specific, and I’m trusting you to understand that better than anyone else. I’m convinced you’ll eventually find the person I’m looking for.”
Kaveh swallows, then takes another sip of wine to buy himself time to think.
“You’re putting a lot of trust in me,” he says. “Are you really okay with that?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t entrust this task to anyone else.” Alhaitham’s voice comes out softer this time. He eyes Kaveh over the rim of his glass, the warm yellow light from the lamp in the corner illuminating the side of his face. He looks…handsome like this, Kaveh thinks. He hasn’t seen him look like this in a long while. If he looks at his next date like this, Kaveh might reach the end of his matchmaking career sooner than expected.
“I see,” he says eventually, averting his eyes. This counts for something, right? Alhaitham does want to date, and he wants Kaveh’s help to achieve that goal.
“So you’re okay with participating in matchmaking parties and that sort of thing, yes?”
“If you’ll be coming with me, then yes.”
“Huh? Why? Do you need me to hold your hand through it?” Kaveh downs the rest of his wine, his hand reaching automatically for the bottle.
“I wouldn’t put it that way, but weren’t you the one claiming I needed help? I was fully prepared to depend on your services,” Alhaitham says. He’s wearing that terrible smirk again, the one that makes Kaveh’s veins light on fire. He pours himself a fresh glass of wine and takes a big swig without waiting for the wine to decant first.
Wiping his mouth, he says, “I don’t like your tone, but I guess it really can’t be helped. You’re hopeless, so as your senior, I’m going to accompany you for some much needed advice and moral support.”
“How generous of you,” Alhaitham says before finishing his glass too. “Is there anything else you want to know? I have the time, so while we’re at it…”
“Now we’re talking,” Kaveh says, fresh excitement bubbling under his skin. Alhaitham’s romantic life was nothing short of a mystery to Kaveh before all of this began, so there is no way he’s going to pass up the chance to drill him with questions. After all, he’ll need every bit of information he can get if he is to succeed in setting up Alhaitham with his perfect counterpart. And it’d be a complete lie to say Kaveh wasn’t curious.
It’s surprisingly easy to get Alhaitham to talk. He usually has this annoying way of beating around the bush, only divulging select information and not a syllable more. Tonight, when Kaveh asks, he mostly answers right off the bat. He tells Kaveh more about his list, stressing once again that none of the bullet points on it are negotiable, but he also willingly answers some more of Kaveh’s other questions. If he really didn’t date anyone after graduation (he didn’t), if he ever liked anyone again (he did, though he refuses to expand on the topic), and if he’s looking to marry in the future (it depends on his partner’s wishes).
By the time the first bottle of wine is gone Kaveh still sits an appropriate distance away from Alhaitham. By the time the second nears its end, they’ve somehow shifted to leaning against each other, Kaveh’s head resting on the back of the couch while his shoulder presses against Alhaitham’s. The alcohol has warmed his blood and relaxed his muscles, his eyelids comfortably heavy.
“Say, since we’re about to get you set up on more dates…what would your hypothetical ideal first date look like?”
Alhaitham hums. “Hmm. Take a guess?”
Apparently Alhaitham’s inclination to answer questions upfront has reached its limit. Kaveh stares at the patterns on the ceiling and says, “Honestly? I have no clue. Considering it’s you we’re talking about, you’d probably hang out at home with your date all day. Or, if you’re feeling generous, maybe a trip to the library and some coffee?”
Alhaitham exhales audibly through his nose, amused. “You think so little of me. Just because I like spending time alone doesn’t mean I can’t value time spent with the person I love, doing something both enjoy.”
Kaveh swallows, Alhaitham’s words echoing in his head. The person I love.
Kaveh clears his throat. “Well then?”
Alhaitham readjusts himself next to Kaveh, but their shoulders stay pressed together, body heat seeping through the fabric of Kaveh’s sleeve. “We go out for dinner first,” Alhaitham says. “It doesn’t need to be luxurious, but I’d like it to feel somewhat special. Then, during a walk around the city, we make stimulating conversation, both academic and recreational topics are acceptable. And once the date draws to an end I take him home.”
Kaveh chokes on his wine. “What?” he splutters, wiping his mouth to catch any liquid before it stains his blouse.
Alhaitham gives him a look. “Did I say something strange?”
“No—well, kind of?” Kaveh says as he sets his glass on the table, shifting to get a better look at his roommate. “I would never have pegged you as the type of guy who insists on sex on the first date.”
Alhaitham shrugs. “I never said I insisted, but you did ask for my ideal first date. And if both parties are comfortable and consent to intercourse, I don’t see why there should be anything wrong with that.”
“Don’t call it intercourse please,” Kaveh says, making a face. “But still, it’s unlike you.”
“Believe what you like. Though I must say I’m curious to know what you would suggest for a first date yourself.”
Oh, Kaveh’s not about to go into his own romantic fantasies tonight. Not like this, with alcohol coursing through his veins and clouding his judgment. Archons know what he’ll say, and to Alhaitham at that. He’ll never let Kaveh live it down.
“No, no, no, we’re talking about you right now, Mr. Scribe,” Kaveh says, poking his finger into Alhaitham’s chest. His muscles are so well toned he barely manages to make a dent. It’s infuriating. “Since you started it, why don’t you tell me more about your, ah… preferences?”
Alhaitham cocks an eyebrow at him, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I fail to understand how that should concern you.”
“It concerns my search for your partner!” Kaveh shoots back. “That sort of thing should be kept in mind, don’t you think? Even if you might not have any fetishes or kinks or anything like that—not that I personally care about any of that!—it might be beneficial to know what you expect of your partner.”
“In bed,” Alhaitham deadpans.
Kaveh suddenly feels the urge to dunk his entire head into a tub filled with ice water. His cheeks feel like they’re about to burst into flame. Talking about this stuff with Alhaitham feels weird. Should he know these things? Should he be feeling this sort of subdued buzzing under his skin, the nervous heat creeping up his neck, or is that just the alcohol?
“Yes, in bed,” he repeats, hoping he isn’t as flushed as he feels. There’s no need to give Alhaitham any more blackmail material than he already has on him.
“I doubt it will help you in your search, considering it’s not exactly the social norm to be asking others such personal questions, especially if it’s on behalf of a third party.”
“Don’t question my methods,” Kaveh snaps. He reaches out for his glass again, but realizes that it’s empty. A glance at the wine bottles tells him both are empty as well. Maybe that’s for the best. “So?” he prompts, settling back down with his legs pulled up. His knees dig slightly into Alhaitham’s thigh, but it doesn’t elicit a reaction.
“You really want to know, huh.”
Kaveh swallows. “Don’t make it sound like I’m asking for me. This is for your own good.”
“What exactly do you want to know?”
“I don’t know, I suppose what role you prefer in terms of…top and bottom?” The words feel foreign on Kaveh’s tongue. He’s never talked about this sort of thing with someone he wasn’t to some level romantically involved with before.
Alhaitham fixes him with a pervasive look; there’s something dark swimming behind his turquoise irises, something Kaveh can’t read. He’s close, his torso turned in Kaveh’s direction, one arm draped across the backrest. When he speaks, Kaveh catches a whiff of wine on his breath.
“I don’t have a strong preference I suppose,” Alhaitham begins, “which is to say I see myself enjoying both giving and receiving. In the end it depends on circumstances and the general mood.”
“Oh,” Kaveh says, his mouth surprisingly dry considering the amount of wine he drank. “I suppose I imagined you would be the dominant type.” Anyone would, really. Alhaitham is bossy on good days and downright obnoxious on bad ones: He dislikes when Kaveh is right (which, of course, he would never admit, instead he acts like those conversations never happened), he dictates what happens around the house, and he is difficult in general when it comes to his daily routine. Kaveh has experienced this first hand.
“Dominance and submissiveness don’t necessarily translate to top and bottom dynamics,” Alhaitham says. “I can be the one penetrating my partner and still let him take control over the situation.” He’s still staring at Kaveh with those unmoving eyes. Kaveh might be imagining it, but it feels like he’s been leaning closer with every word, their faces close enough to knock foreheads if one of them made a wrong move.
“O-oh.” It’s not that Kaveh didn’t know that. It’s the fact that Alhaitham has obviously thought about these things in detail before and accrued a fair amount of knowledge that gives him a funny feeling inside. Just for a second an image pops into Kaveh’s mind, of Alhaitham experimenting with his faceless teenage partner in his dormitory room, an inexperienced Alhaitham asking his partner to show him the ropes: telling him how to move, where to touch, here, relax —Kaveh inhales sharply, chasing the images away. They leave a bitter taste in his mouth that has nothing to do with the wine. It should have been him who Alhaitham sought out for advice, a voice in his head says—as his upperclassman and best friend, of course.
Alhaitham has the gall to smirk at him. “Is that all?”
Kaveh clears his throat. “So you’re fine with anything?”
“Of course not. I have fantasies like anyone else, but I prefer to communicate those only with the person concerned, and when the time calls for it.”
Kaveh hums. This answer he can accept, though he can’t help but wonder what sort of fantasies someone like Alhaitham might have. For some reason he gets the impression that they might be on the rather salacious side, considering the shamelessness with which he approached Kaveh’s questions. Again, phantom pictures form in front of Kaveh’s inner eye, of Alhaitham contemplating an array of adult toys spread out on a cloth, trying to decide which one to use on his partner. For some inexplicable reason, the thought sends pulses of heat spreading to Kaveh’s crotch. He squeezes his legs together in mortification to suppress any unwanted… activity there, cursing his vivid imagination. This is not the time to let himself get carried away by psychological stimuli, especially not with Alhaitham directly in front of him. He wouldn’t be able to stomach the emotional trauma of popping a boner in front of him of all people. It’s bad enough that he’s so close and that Kaveh hasn’t felt like pushing him away yet. Alhaitham’s weight against him feels good. Grounding. Maybe he wouldn’t mind letting him come a little bit closer. Maybe Alhaitham is thinking the same, because he’s leaning into him, eyes half-lidded and darting from one spot on Kaveh’s face to the next. Maybe he’s changed his mind and decided he wants to practice with Kaveh after all. Years and years have passed since he last got intimate with anyone, so it’d only be natural to want to refresh one’s memory, no? And Kaveh’s here right now—Alhaitham is pragmatic, and since their conversation has already gone down this path, he might think this presents a convenient opportunity. Somehow, Kaveh’s alcoholized brain can’t find fault with the idea.
“Hold still for a moment,” Alhaitham says quietly, and the way his voice rumbles in his chest gives Kaveh goosebumps. Kaveh freezes when Alhaitham’s hand suddenly approaches his face, his heart jumping in his chest. His fingers tangle in the hair at the back of Kaveh’s head, eliciting a tingling sensation running along his scalp. His eyes flutter shut reflexively. Alhaitham is so close he can smell the fresh scent of his aftershave, so close he can feel the heat radiating off of him. Oh, Archons, he’s going to kiss me…
He feels Alhaitham coming closer.
I should stop him.
He can feel Alhaitham’s breath on his face.
I need to stop him. Why aren’t I stopping him…?
“Here,” Alhaitham says suddenly, sitting back. With a start, Kaveh opens his eyes just in time to witness Alhaitham grabbing his hand and placing something cold and hard in his palm. Kaveh stares at it for a long moment, his cheeks burning. It’s one of his earrings.
“It must have fallen off at some point. It was stuck in your hair.”
“Th-thanks,” Kaveh stammers. For a moment he really thought Alhaitham was going to pull him in for a kiss—except, of course, he had no reason to do that. Kaveh knows that Alhaitham isn’t impulsive like that, not even under the influence. Kaveh had been foolish to think anything would come of it. And, he reminds himself, he knows best that he doesn’t check enough of Alhaitham’s boxes to even come close to being considered for a meaningful role in his life, least of all one that is sure to come with strings attached. Alhaitham’s expansive list of must-haves for a romantic partner made sure of that. Not that it makes a difference to him—he is simply an observing person who is a little bit drunk.
“It’s gotten quite late,” Alhaitham says, changing the topic. A glance at the clock reveals that it’s already nearing midnight—certainly not unheard of, but a rare occurrence nonetheless. They usually don’t stay up together this late. Kaveh catches himself exhaling in relief when Alhaitham draws back and stands. “If you don’t have any more questions, I’ll be going to bed.”
“Erm. No, I think I’ve heard enough for now,” Kaveh replies. His heartbeat still hasn’t quite returned to normal. “I’ll let you know about the matchmaking party soon,” he adds.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Kaveh watches Alhaitham collect their glasses off the table. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s swaying a little as he walks: the alcohol must have gotten to him as well.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Alhaitham warns with his back turned before he excuses himself for the night. Kaveh flips him off even though he can’t see it. His cheeks are still burning. Alhaitham had no business getting all up in his space like that.
Frowning, Kaveh stays behind on the couch.
Both the way Alhaitham spoke to him tonight and the things he learned in the process have given him a lot to think about. He never had a reason to give Alhaitham’s sexuality much thought before, but now… Something about their conversation rubs him the wrong way. Every time Alhaitham mentioned his hypothetical partner and the things they might do together he felt himself reject the possibility entirely, and violently at that. The unbidden images return to him, Alhaitham rolling around the sheets with a faceless man, Alhaitham with his head thrown back in ecstasy as his partner pleasures him. The image flips, and then it’s Alhaitham on top, swiveling his hips rhythmically in his lover’s lap. Foreign hands coming up to pull Alhaitham down for a kiss—
Kaveh’s stomach roils, causing him to cough violently, and he wishes his past self had thought to bring a glass of water. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he waits for the coughing to stop. Alhaitham and some obscure guy? No, no, no. Alhaitham, even though he’s a prick, and a colossal one, he deserves so much better. How is anyone supposed to understand him the way Kaveh does? Maybe he should think about branching out into coaching—Obnoxious Scribes 101– How To Win Their Heart and Keep It. Snorting, Kaveh shakes his head. It doesn’t help to clear it of the persistent imagery lingering from their conversation. The images were so vivid. Too vivid. Lesser Lord Kusanali, what in Celestia am I even thinking about? This is all Alhaitham’s fault. Him and his shamelessness and his stupid aftershave and his stupid face.
He remains seated on the couch a moment longer to calm his nerves, trying not to think about the way he had felt with Alhaitham all close up in his space. Eventually, he decides to take a quick shower before bed. He gets the feeling that he won’t be able to sleep with the grating smell of Alhaitham’s aftershave sticking to him.
When Kaveh comes to, he’s back in the living room, on the couch. He can’t tell the time or if he ever made it to his bed, or if he’s had more to drink. All he knows is that there is another person there with him and that it’s almost completely dark around them. It’s hot, so maybe they let the heater run for some reason. The upholstery itches against the sensitive skin on his exposed back. It’s a little damp, which only adds to Kaveh’s discomfort.
Wait, why is he shirtless?
He tries to lean up on his elbows, but a heavy weight pushes him back down. Hot skin presses all over Kaveh’s front, two strong arms bracketing his torso. A pleasant scent of rosemary wafts around him and he greedily inhales a couple lungfuls of it. His bottom half is trapped as well, his pants bunched around his ankles. He can’t see down there, but he can feel the telltale sensation of something hot and hard prodding at his thigh. He swallows. He’s with another man, on Alhaitham’s couch, and they’re both hard. Kaveh hopes that Alhaitham is firmly asleep. The thought of him walking in on Kaveh in a situation like this? Absolute nightmare. A puff of air ghosts across his face when the other man opens his mouth to speak, each syllable gliding across Kaveh’s aroused body like fine silk.
“Senior…won’t you show me what to do?”
Kaveh jerks—fresh heat pools in his stomach while his heart slams against his ribcage so forcefully he fears his partner may feel it—his partner whose voice reminds him awfully of—
“Alhaitham…” He meant for it to be a question, but all that leaves his lips is an embarrassing sigh.
A soft chuckle by Kaveh’s ear confirms it for him. It’s Alhaitham pinning him to the couch, Alhaitham whose arousal slots hotly against Kaveh’s own.
Oh no. This is a mistake. They really, really shouldn’t be doing this. They’re probably both drunk beyond help, and all that’s going to do is lead to an aftermath they’re both going to regret. Kaveh’s voice scratches in his throat. “Wait, this is a bad idea. Terrible, in fact—”
“Show me what you like,” Alhaitham whispers, one hand reaching between them to tug at Kaveh’s underwear. Kaveh’s gut tightens treacherously at how bothered Alhaitham sounds, his breathing quickening with every centimeter his fingers slide deeper.
“You’re n-not in your right mind,” Kaveh objects, praying to any gods that may be listening that Alhaitham doesn’t feel him twitching in excitement. He tries wriggling his way out from under him, but Alhaitham has him firmly trapped.
“Come on,” Alhaitham murmurs, his breath hot on Kaveh’s neck. “I told you all about me… Now teach me how to make you feel good. Don’t you want to?”
Oh, fuck. Do I want to?
Alhaitham rolls his hips against him, his breath hot on Kaveh’s neck. This is bad. Really bad. Why is he even considering it? He can’t think straight, he can’t think at all. There is too much naked skin, too much of Alhaitham.
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham groans, his body trembling. “I want to be inside of you.”
Oh, gods above. Kaveh’s entire body heats, and he feels himself getting wet. Even though his last sliver of self-awareness tells him to back out, the rest of him knows what his answer is.
I want to.
With a groan, all thoughts of protest fly out the window, and he tugs Alhaitham’s face down to kiss him.
The following minutes pass Kaveh by in a hazy fog; all he registers is Alhaitham’s touch, everywhere on his body, his clever fingers going exactly where Kaveh directs them, stroking, gently prying him open. When Kaveh’s patience runs out he tells Alhaitham as much, and soon, his fingers are replaced by something much bigger, the stretch burning deliciously as he adjusts around Alhaitham’s pulsing heat inside him. It is almost touching how patiently Alhaitham waits for him to give him permission to move, but when he does, he doesn’t hold back.
It doesn’t take long before Kaveh loses the ability to tell up from down. Sweat has sprung up all across his body, his nerves lit on fire. A pair of large hands grip on to his waist, holding him in place while Alhaitham takes him.
“Go faster,” Kaveh moans, his hands clamped around some of the pillows under his head. “Just like that, yeah—ah, too deep, oh gods —”
Kaveh’s head is spinning from how good Alhaitham feels inside of him. All of it is so wrong—they don’t even like each other like that, and he isn’t sure what brought this encounter about in the first place—but it feels so painfully right. Alhaitham lets out a low sound, his breathing harsher than Kaveh has ever heard it before. A drop of sweat drips onto Kaveh’s stomach as he lets go of Kaveh’s waist to lean over him instead. The new angle intensifies the searing friction inside Kaveh; with every thrust, every wet smack of skin against skin, he feels that telltale pressure building in his lower abdomen.
“Don’t stop,” he chokes out, holding on to the pillows for dear life, “I’m close.”
“Me, too,” comes Alhaitham’s strained voice from above. He’s closer than Kaveh expected. Their noses brush when Alhaitham rasps, “Where—where do you want it?”
Kaveh groans. “Inside,” he chokes out, his breath hitching when Alhaitham hits his prostate. “Oh, if you keep doing that I’ll—I can’t–I can’t hold it, oh, fuck—”
Alhaitham’s thrusts start to lose their rhythm, and Kaveh watches with bleary eyes how his face scrunches up in pleasure, eyebrows crinkled and his mouth slightly open—and then his entire body tenses up, a wrecked moan falling from his lips.
“ Kaveh… ”
With Kaveh’s name on his breath, Alhaitham spills inside of him, and Kaveh knows that he’s done for. Something snaps inside of him, his vision whiting out as he comes explosively, his hands scrambling for purchase on Alhaitham’s shoulders as waves and waves of pleasure crash over him, his own name in Alhaitham’s voice ringing in his ears.
It takes Kaveh a few minutes to come down from his high. With his face buried against the side of Alhaitham’s neck, chest heaving from the intensity of his orgasm, a curious thought starts circling around his frayed mind, sickly sweet. It cuts through the blissful afterglow, distracting Kaveh from Alhaitham’s erratic heartbeat and the flutter in his own stomach.
He just had sex with Alhaitham. And it felt phenomenal. That’s something he would never have imagined, even in his wildest dreams. Alhaitham hums, pulling Kaveh tightly against his chest. Without thinking, Kaveh lets himself sink into the embrace, basking in their shared body heat. Huh. Who would have thought Alhaitham was such a dreamlike lay?
Hold on. A…dream?
With a jolt, Kaveh sits up, and his eyes fly open.
It’s light out, the sun just creeping up on the horizon. Breathing raggedly, he scans his surroundings. He’s in his room, in his own bed, and most importantly, he’s alone. There are his models on the desk, several empty mugs, a half finished beer bottle. On the floor next to his bed he finds a heap of clothes, only one set. Just to make sure, he does a double take around the room, half expecting Alhaitham to jump out of the closet and make fun of him for looking so confused. Just as he’s about to let out a sigh of relief, he feels something sticky sliding down the inside of his thigh. The inside of his underwear is drenched.
No. You’ve got to be kidding.
Nausea assaults him as his brain finally assembles all the puzzle pieces. He did not, in fact, have sex with Alhaitham. It was just a dream. A wet dream.
He lets out a groan, flopping back down onto his back. If the ground opened up to swallow him whole right now he would gladly jump. What did he do to deserve this kind of cruel punishment? A wet dream? About Alhaitham? Really? He can’t remember when he last had one of those; he’s pushing thirty, and it’s not like his own sex life is nonexistent! It’s not extraordinary either, but he’s not been abstinent in any way. And even though he hasn’t been seeing anyone lately, he has no qualms about taking care of himself. Which is exactly why he has no business having wet dreams about his obnoxious roommate! Shame settles heavily on Kaveh’s shoulders, his face and neck heating up. Ghost touches assault him as soon as he dares to close his eyes, mirror images of Alhaitham’s blissed out face burned into the back of his eyelids. He remembers all too clearly how good he had felt with Alhaitham following his instructions, taking him apart one touch at a time. It felt good to be wanted. If he wanted to, he could sink right back into it, spin the dream further…
Except he would rather die than start fantasizing about Alhaitham! Kaveh shudders and shakes his head frantically, chasing the thoughts away. He would never let any of that happen in real life, even if Alhaitham started begging on his knees! Not that he thinks Alhaitham could ever like him like that, either.Neither can he imagine experiencing pleasure at the hand of someone as detached and impassive as him. Sure, it felt good in his dream, but that’s just because his brain told him what to feel based on past experiences... And he’s sure Alhaitham only appeared in the dream because of last night’s conversation. Maybe he’s really just pent up and his hormones latched onto the first best thing floating around his subconscious. That’s probably it, nothing to worry about. Just a natural bodily reaction. Except, if Alhaitham ever finds out— urgh. Kaveh can’t bring himself to finish the thought. He might actually throw up if he does.
He spends the better part of an hour staring at his ceiling, repeating to himself that no-one ever has to know, this doesn’t mean anything, I’m not weird at all before he decides that the best course of action is to go take a shower before the cause of his misery wakes up, possibly sees right through him, and consequently ruins his life for good.