More Than Just Affection, No Less Than Love

by Anonymous_Failure

Summary:

Kaveh gets locked out again, and instead of going to ask Alhaitham for his keys, he goes to the tavern instead. As always, Alhaitham comes to drag him back home.

Notes:

I know I already posted, like, a week ago, but this was one of the first Kavetham fics I started writing, so I finally decided to write a shitty ending instead of letting it continue to only get worked on slightly every few months.

4/26: Fixed the extra spaces that ao3 added when I copied it over from google docs. (At least, I think I got all of them.)

Chapter 1

"Damn it all…" He cursed under his breath as he banged his fist on the door for maybe the fourth or fifth time.

 

It was probably safe to say at this point that Alhaitham wasn't home, which meant that he couldn't get inside because the other kept 'accidentally' taking both keys instead of just his. He was probably doing it on purpose at this point just to piss him off. Kaveh exhaled, finally giving up and returning his fist to his side.

 

So, if he couldn't get inside, what in the Archon's name was he supposed to do now? Alhaitham would get irritated if he tried to seek him out just so he could get his key back, and he didn't want to increase his risk of getting kicked out, so that was out of the question. There was really only one other option: waste his money on alcohol. It was a bad decision, but it was technically Alhaitham's fault, so it's an excusable one. ..And the longer he stood here trying to think of something else, the more people would see him. There were already a few people staring at him. He immediately set off in the direction of the tavern, praying that by the time he returned, Alhaitham would be home to unlock the door.

 

The streets were somewhat packed, mainly full of people leaving work. Kaveh opened his coin purse to make sure he actually had Mora on him, but all that was in there was the Mora for this month's rent. Oh well. If he wanted to complain about it, he'd only have himself to blame. It was bad decisions like this that prevented Kaveh from getting out of debt, but who could blame him for wanting to ease the pain and stress of his situation? ..Were his dad still alive, he'd surely be disappointed in him.

 

Negative thoughts such as that only ever made him feel much, much worse, and he found that the best way to drown them out was by drinking. Even if it only made them worse, he'd just forget the next morning. It was just a spiral of self-torture- one that he was helpless to break out of. It's truly pathetic. Everyone around him must think that. Alhaitham surely did. He was going to get kicked out eventually anyways, so what was the point in trying to make him think otherwise?

 

~~~~

 

Even before he got home, Alhaitham already realized that Kaveh wouldn't be able to get inside. Maybe he should get another spare key made…

 

It was easy to tell where he went upon finding out he couldn't get in the house. Kaveh went there a few times a week now, which said something about his deteriorating mental state, because he used to go only once every week. It was entirely his fault- he was doing it of his own volition- but it felt safe to say this was an addiction at this point, so he couldn't fully blame him for being unable to control it. (Though it only developed because of him in the first place.)

 

It has likely been around two or three hours since Kaveh tried to return home, so he's been at the tavern for a similar amount of time. He's probably shit-face drunk right now, taking into consideration how much of a lightweight he is. This was going to be one of those nights where Alhaitham had to carry him, wasn't it?

 

The Scribe exhaled, pivoting on his heel and setting off in the direction of the tavern. Chances are he'd have to pay off the other's tab as well. He always did when he had to fetch him.

 

~~~~

 

Kaveh was draped over the table, arm laying slump across its width while the other was settled beneath his head. His fingers were loosely wrapped around a bottle that was four-fifths empty. In all honesty, he couldn't remember what led him here this time; he just knew he was supposed to be upset about something.

 

His eyes remained pressed shut against his forearm. It was the only thing that stopped his head from spinning. The warm buzz of alcohol in his veins ran throughout his body, making him feel absent and fuzzy. It was a pleasant feeling, as always. ..Though he felt like he might throw up soon.

 

The bell on the door chimed as another patron entered the building and spoke with who Kaveh assumed was Lambad. He could hear conversations from the other people around him, but none of it was clear enough for him to understand. All words just mushed together into this mass amalgamation of noise that rang in his ears. He'd groan or mumble to himself every now and again, but other than that he was silent.

 

Something poked (or rather jabbed) him in the side. He lethargically lifted his head, staring up with half-lidded eyes. A turquoise and black smudge loomed over him, spinning along with the rest of the blurred, distorted world. The color scheme kinda reminded him of Alhaitham.

 

..Oh, right. He was here because of Alhaitham. What did he do again? ..Probably took his keys. That sounded right to him.

 

"Wh-" Kaveh tried to speak, but a hiccup abruptly cut him off, so he just let his head fall back onto his arm, easily amused and giggling deliriously at his failure. Pathetic .

 

There was a sigh. He felt the bottle in his hand be pulled out of his grip, but Kaveh just couldn't bring himself to care. "How much does he owe this time?" the blur asked, presumably looking back to the bartender.

 

"6,500 Mora. He only ordered the most strong and expensive-"

 

"I'll pay for him." There was a rustle of fabric. "Keep the change."

 

He suddenly felt himself being pulled up and hoisted onto someone's back, their arms hooking under his legs. This person smelled nice. It was similar to the smell of home. Correction, Alhaitham's home , his brain reminded him. Under normal circumstances, he would not tolerate being carried, but this was a frequent occurrence when he was intoxicated. Kaveh buried his face into the other's silver hair.

 

They must've already left, because he never heard Lambad's response. He also had no idea where this person was taking him- not that he minded. His eyes opened a bit, looking down at them. They were still nothing but a blur of colors, but something about them was familiar. Along with their scent, their clothes felt familiar as well. It was almost as if he’s been in this position many times before.

 

Kaveh let go of the fabric he was clutching in one hand, poking what he assumed was the person's face. "I know you," he slurred.

 

The other ‘hmph’ed in amusement. "Oh really?"

 

"Mmmhm." He nodded, nuzzling into them further.

 

"..So, care to tell me why you were drinking this time?"

 

Kaveh frowned. "Couldn' get inside; 'Haitham keeps taking m' keys. He's prob'ly trying t' irritate me so much tha' I leave on my own; I can tell."

 

The blur was silent as it continued to walk with Kaveh on its back. They probably didn't want to hear about his drama. That's fine. It's perfectly fine. He didn't think anyone ever wanted to listen. His problems didn't need to become the burden of others. It was selfish of him to even want someone to care about them, even for just a moment. He knew better than to trouble other people. Stupid, stupid, stupid …

 

"And where's your evidence for that?" they asked eventually.

 

"I- ..I jus' kkknow it . He hates me. ..Reason'bly so."

 

"If I hated you, you wouldn't be living in my house."

 

It took him a moment to process the words spoken. Realization struck. Of course this was Alhaitham; he was the only person who retrieved him from the bar when he was too drunk to return home himself. Kaveh pulled his head back in horror, instead settling it on the other's shoulder. Though he couldn't see it, he knew the Scribe had that smug smirk of his on his face right now.

 

He moved his face as close as he could to Alhaitham's ear without touching it. "Why're you so cruel t'me then, hmmm?"

 

"I'm not ‘cruel’ to you by any means," he stated simply. "Besides, if I didn't want you around, I would've never let you move in with me to begin with."

 

"If tha's true, then st-ssstop taking my keeeyyyy ," Kaveh whined, lips pulled into a pout.

 

"I've told you, it's not intentional."

 

"But it iiissssss. How d'you 'accidentally' take m- -hic- ..m' key almost every day?"

 

"I've also told you I'm working on not doing that. You need to stop thinking that all my actions are done with the intention of hurting you."

 

The drunk architect was silent for a moment. ..Only a moment though. "Whaddabout all that ugly furniture you keep buyin'?" he piped up. "What's the purpose of buying all that horrendous junk if not t' anger me?"

 

"Simple: Because it's amusing."

 

Kaveh let out a dramatic, offended gasp, recoiling a bit. "That's so mean!"

 

His brain only just registered that they'd made it to their house. Alhaitham pulled out his key, the door clicking as it unlocked. He kicked it shut behind them as he entered before dumping his roommate on one of the divans. Kaveh didn't even seem to register it until the other brought back water and sat next to him. His body leaned against Alhaitham as he held the cup for him while he drank from it.

 

The two of them sat in silence. Once Kaveh was finished, Alhaitham attempted to stand so he could return the empty glass to the kitchen, but the drunkard leaning against him grabbed onto his cape, yanking him back down.

 

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwait," he slurred out, rummaging through his pockets for something. The Scribe huffed and set the cup on the table.

 

It took him a moment to find what he was looking for. He pulled out his coin purse, dropping it on Alhaitham's lap. He looked at the architect, putting on a confused expression- though he already knew what it was.

 

"Rrrent," the blond stated, sounding relatively pleased with himself. "Rent money. For you."

 

"If you had Mora on you, you should've paid for your own alcohol."

 

He just snickered, allowing more of his weight to sag against his roommate. Alhaitham didn't bother trying to continue this aspect of the conversation. It wasn't worth starting an argument while Kaveh was this out of it. If they were to have that conversation, Kaveh would likely just pass out mid-sentence because his alcohol-riddled brain found it too stressful to deal with.

 

He could feel the other man playing with his hair, watching as the grey strands ran through his fingers like sand while he mumbled about texture or something to himself. He might as well permit it, since Kaveh likely wasn't going to stop either way. It depended on the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream, but most of the time, a drunk Kaveh could barely comprehend the words spoken to him; telling him to stop would only be a waste of breath.

 

"Why d'ya hate me, 'Haitham?" the architect suddenly asked after a few minutes of silence, fingers still laced in the other man's hair. He was a bit taken aback by the abrupt question. "I've always tried t'be nice to you, but nnno matter what I do, you just stomp all over me. Metaphorically."

 

"When have I ever given you the impression I hated you?" the Scribe questioned.

 

"Your words are cold and harsh! The way you speak to me's proof enough!"

 

“I’m that way with everyone and you know that. I've certainly never treated you as if I hated you. Therefore, there is no solid evidence that I hate you; because I don't."

 

"B-But you-!"

 

The former Acting Grand Sage crossed his arms. "How many times must I repeat myself for you to wrap your head around such a simple concept?"

 

"You aren't-!" Kaveh cut himself off and breathed out a sigh, twirling grey hair around his finger. "Nevermind. You know nothin' about human -hic- emotions. You wouldn't understand."

 

"If you're such an expert, why don't you teach me then?" he said in a mocking tone of voice.

 

"Forget it. S'impossible for someone like yyyyou to comprehend the feelings of other people."

 

"I understand your feelings," Alhaitham commented, continuing before Kaveh could say anything about his claim. "You’re miserable. You always put the happiness of others ahead of your own, which only causes you to suffer, and you're always being crushed by an unreasonable abundance of guilt. In order to deal with that overwhelming inundation of negative emotion, you waste the little money you have on alcohol- which only pushes you further into debt- in hopes of drowning the feelings out, though approximately 50% of the time it only makes them worse."

 

Kaveh went silent, staring off at nothing as he thought of what to say in response. It was a very accurate assessment, how could he argue with it? The other man smirked at his silence. He couldn't argue with something that was so obviously true, even if it was Alhaitham saying it. His brain couldn’t even think of a valid argument anyway.

 

"..Shhhhhhhuddup ," was the response he settled on, putting emphasis on the 'P', harshly spitting it out.

 

Alhaitham just smirked in amusement. Kaveh pursed his lips into a pout, still playing with the other man's hair. Silence hung between them for minutes. The Scribe could tell his roommate wanted to scold him, but for some reason he never did.

 

Instead, he just stared at him, eyelids still hanging low and his expression soon changing to a lazy smile. Alhaitham felt heat rush to his face. Fuck , why does he always look so..-

 

Kaveh suddenly broke into a fit of giggling, burying his face into Alhaitham's clavicle and gripping the front of his shirt. The unexpected contact quickly reminded him that he shouldn't have such thoughts.

 

He blinked, looking down at the blond mess of hair against him. "Kaveh? Are you okay?"

 

"'M fine, I'm fineee..~" Kaveh slurred, chuckling at seemingly nothing. "I-I think that is funny how you- outta alllll people- are th'only one who knows how truly miserable and pathetic I am. We aren't even friends though; tha's why it's funny. It's an ironic, cruel kind of funny."

 

"..There are multiple things to address in that statement. First of all, I do not think you are miserable or pathetic. Also, you don’t consider us friends? I thought we at least had some kind of mutual affection for each other, considering how you willingly live here with me."

 

"..'Mutual affection'? No, no… I can't imagine you being fond of me in any way. Jus' wishful thinking~" He giggles.

 

Alhaitham pushed Kaveh off and held him upright by the shoulders. "Think about this for a moment: If I didn't like you or enjoy your presence in the slightest, why would I tolerate you living here?"

 

"Dunno." The blond shrugged, reaching up to rub one of his eyes. "Your thought process's a myst'ry."

 

Alhaitham let out a disappointed sigh. Trying to explain this to Kaveh in this state would be like talking to a wall. He didn't hate him. He could never hate him. Hating Kaveh would be like hating the sun itself: unwarranted and pointless. Alhaitham couldn't imagine going back to a life where Kaveh's presence wasn't a constant. He didn't even want to think about it.

 

"You prob'ly want something frum me. S'it Mora? Dori takes all m' Mora. I don't like Dori. She-"

 

"I don't want your Mora, Kaveh. You only pay rent because you insisted on it. If I wanted to extort you for money, your rent would be much higher than the minimum, and I certainly wouldn't willingly spend my own Mora on your tavern bills," Alhaitham tried to explain.

 

Kaveh just stared at him in a daze, as if he couldn't process what was trying to be conveyed to him. Could he really not fathom a reality where Alhaitham wasn't trying to hurt him?

 

"Then why..?"

 

"We can discuss this tomorrow. You won't remember any of it if we talk now."

 

"Can y'at least give me a simplified answer?" Kaveh asked, staring up at him, his eyes still hooded and hazy.

 

Alhaitham let out an exasperated sigh, tilting his head forward a bit in order to press a small kiss to the top of his senior's head. It was quick, his lips not lingering for a second longer than they had to. Kaveh blinked, confused. His already flushed face became a brighter shade of red than it'd previously been.

 

“A-Alhaitham..?”

 

“Does that answer your question?” His tone was soft- affectionate, even.

 

Alhaitham watched Kaveh swallow the lump in his throat, and the latter nodded. The Scribe stood up off the divan, lifting his roommate up in a bridal carry.

 

He brought Kaveh to his bedroom and gently placed him on the edge of his mattress in a sitting position. The blond stared up at Alhaitham, his hazy eyes wide with surprise and infatuation, allowing the other man to do as he pleased. He couldn't really think about the present moment. All that occupied his mind was that kiss, despite how small the gesture may have been in another person's eyes. To Kaveh, it was world-shattering. Alhaitham helped him into pajamas before making him lay down, despite Kaveh's mumbled mostly incoherent protests.

 

“'H-Haitham…” the drunken architect whined sleepily, reaching out a hand as the covers were pulled over him.

 

“Yes?”

 

He grabbed hold of Alhaitham's wrist. “I… I-I also..-”

 

“Shhhh,” Alhaitham interrupted, gently pressing the index finger of his free hand to Kaveh's lips. “That sounds like it might be something you'd rather say while sober. Try to remember in the morning, alright?”

 

Kaveh whimpered, pouting, but he acquiesced. Reluctantly, he released Alhaitham’s wrist from his grasp, and he retracted his hand under the blanket. He didn’t trust his brain to remember- not in this condition. He didn’t want to forget. The blond tried to burn everything into his memory, playing the important bits over and over again in his head.

 

Alhaitham smiled down at him softly, and Kaveh could feel his eyelids growing heavy. As much as he didn’t want to let them fall shut, he knew that’s what his roommate wanted him to do, and it would just be easier to fall asleep at this point. With a pout still on his lips, Kaveh allowed his eyes to close themselves, and he quickly seemed to drift off, thinking of the Scribe as he did.

 

Alhaitham’s smile fell away as he watched his senior fall asleep. He didn’t trust the odds that Kaveh would remember anything that happened tonight. The drunkard only seems to recall small bits and pieces after a night like this, and the chances that any of those pieces would be of the stuff that mattered seemed slim. It'd be better not to hope for it, lest he face the inevitable disappointment when Kaveh wakes. He gently patted Kaveh on the head, and silently left the room, slowly pulling the door shut as he looked back at the man he has loved for years.

Chapter 2

Summary:

The follow-up of the next morning.

Notes:

Just some short silly nonsense of these two goofballs being in love again. I didn't really take this as seriously as the og chapter, but I somewhat am satisfied with it like this, so whatever.

God, his head hurt… How much did he drink yesterday? Kaveh pried his eyelids open, finding himself in his room, on his bed, in his pajamas. He turned onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. Alhaitham must've brought him back last night, as he always seemed to do. He groaned at the thought of how much he must have burdened him.

 

Nausea twisted in his stomach, and he begrudgingly got up, unable to withhold it. He caught a glimpse of a scrap of paper on his nightstand that he couldn't recall being there the night before, but he didn't have time to look at it as he rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. He keeled over and purged the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.

 

There was a knock on the door a few moments later. “You alright in there?” asked Alhaitham's voice on the other side.

 

“Yeah, I'm”- Kaveh gagged again- “..fine.”

 

“You shouldn't drink so much,” the Scribe commented casually as he walked away before the other man could try to retort.

 

Kaveh grumbled, wiping the remnants of vomit on his lips away with toilet paper. He rummaged through the medicine cabinet and grabbed some pain killers before he came out, walking to the kitchen. Alhaitham was already there filling a glass of water, which he handed to him without a word. The architect awkwardly thanked him, and put the pain killers in his mouth, washing them down with his beverage.

 

“So.. what exactly happened last night..?” he asked after swallowing.

 

Alhaitham's expression remained as blank as always. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

“That's not very helpful, you know.”

 

“So, you don't remember anything?” he asked, with a subtle hint of disappointment showing in his eyes.

 

Why did he seem sad? ..Something important must have happened. There were a few hazy images floating around in Kaveh's brain, but he couldn't figure out what they were. He couldn't even tell whether they were real or from a dream.

 

He shook his head, and Alhaitham sighed, before just.. walking out of the room. Did he upset him last night..? The former Acting Grand Sage shut himself in the study, and Kaveh returned to his room, desperately trying to recall the events of the previous night, seeing as his roommate wasn't being any help. He knows that he drank quite a bit, with the main cause being that he was locked out of the house, but of course, everything else was blurry. He could vaguely recall Alhaitham's presence, but it was obvious that he'd showed up, so that didn't help at all.

 

The paper he had spotted earlier got his attention again. Kaveh approached his nightstand. One of his pencils had been left on it, as well. He picked up the scrap of paper and flipped it over. ‘CONFESSION’ had been scribbled onto it with awful penmanship, clearly written by him while he was under the influence. The ‘ion’ was lightly scribbled out, which was odd, because he could've just erased it. It looked like he couldn't decide which one he wanted to write, so he settled for both. Kaveh stared down at the message he left himself in confusion. If it had just been ‘CONFESS’, he would've been a little freaked out, but there was the addition of the last three letters. What confession was it talking about? Did it want him to confess something? To who? Alhaitham? There was no way, right? Why would he suddenly decide to confess to Alhaitham when he had no idea if Alhaitham even liked him as a person?

 

..Unless he got an answer last night.

 

W-Wait, is that it? Did.. did Alhaitham..-? No. No way. There's no way Alhaitham would… But.. did he..?

 

A bell faintly chimed in the back of his head, as if his subconscious was trying to tell him he was getting closer to the right answer. Kaveh tried to straighten his memories out again with the hint at a potential confession in mind. He couldn't recall any exact words that were said, but as his headache started to fade, so did the fog. Alhaitham.. did something last night. It wasn't a verbal confession, but it might as well have been one. He.. he kissed him… The image was suddenly clear in his head, to the extent of being vivid. It was only on the top of his head, but the Scribe wouldn't do that to just anyone. It had to mean he felt something for him. This must be the confession he meant.

 

He couldn't just take Alhaitham's confession and give him nothing in return if he shared the same feelings. But what if he was misinterpreting this..? Was it a risk he was willing to take..? He looked back down at the paper, the word ‘CONFESS’ staring back as if it were mocking him.

 

..Screw it.

 

Giving into the impulse, Kaveh stormed out of his room and burst into the study, with little thought on how the person inside would respond. “Alhaitham, I-!”

 

He immediately noticed the other man's lack of reaction and cut himself off. Alhaitham was reading, and had his soundproof earpieces turned on. Kaveh stood stationary in the doorway for a moment, contemplating a retreat, but he forced himself to keep going. He marched over to Alhaitham and pulled them off the latter's head.

 

Alhaitham blinked in surprise as he suddenly felt his earpieces being yanked off him, and he tilted his head upward to see his roommate looming over where he was sitting. “Kaveh?”

 

“I love you!” the architect blurted out, his cheeks turning red.

 

The two of them stared at each other in a moment of silence. The longer it lasted, the more embarrassed Kaveh became. This was a bad idea. A bad, horrible, awful idea. But he refused to run away. He'd already said it, so he really couldn't just back out now.

 

Alhaitham let out a small huff of amusement, and he closed his book. “It's about time you remembered. Do you have any idea how long your confession is overdue?”

 

“..Huh?”

 

“You imply you want to confess to me almost every other time you get drunk,” explained the scholar, “but I always tell you to wait until you're sober. You never remember.”

 

“So.. you already know..?”

 

An arrogant smirk tugged at the corners of Alhaitham's lips. Typical of him. “Of course I already knew. I guessed it weeks before your first confession.”

 

Kaveh groans, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God, I'm such an idiot…”

 

“Hey, I don't blame you for not being able to remember. You barely even remember anything when you're drunk,” Alhaitham says as he reaches up and pats the blond's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

 

“..Speaking of, how do you remember?”

 

Kaveh, having left his room in such a rush, was still clutching the scrap of paper in his hand. “I left myself a reminder, it seems,” he explained as he handed it over to him. “I can't recall writing it, so it's safe to assume that if I hadn't, I never would've remembered anything.”

 

The Scribe examined the paper with a curious look on his face. “So you didn't fall asleep before I left. I should have realized,” he mused aloud before handing it back to Kaveh.

 

..So did he accept his confession or not?! The evidence for Alhaitham's feelings spoke for themselves, but he wanted to hear Alhaitham say it. He wouldn't be able to do anything today if he just walked away without resolving this.

 

“..Well?” Kaveh put his hands on his hips. “Don't you have something to say?”

 

Alhaitham couldn't help but tease him, and he played dumb. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked, planting his elbow on the desk and propping his head up.

 

“Oh, I don't know; maybe something along the lines of ‘I love you, too’?”

 

“Bold of you to assume that- Come on, don't make that face, I'm kidding.” Alhaitham chuckled uncharacteristically. It was a pleasant sound. “Of course I love you.”

 

Kaveh huffed. “That's more like it.”

 

Before the Scribe could say anything, his roommate leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, just as he had done for him the night before. Feelings hidden for years had finally come to light on both sides, after all this time of being repressed and silenced. It.. felt good. Part of him wishes he confessed sooner.

 

“Does this mean.. we're dating?” The architect asked hesitantly.

 

“Only if that's what you want.”

 

Kaveh's heart fluttered. “Yes, I do want that. We already share our life together; I want it to be official.”

 

Another smile flashed on Alhaitham's usually blank expression. He stood up from his chair, and he pressed a quick kiss to Kaveh's lips before walking around him. “I'll go make breakfast for you then, dear,” he said, the teasing in his voice almost palpable, and he walked out of the room before the other man could get a word in.

 

“I- H-Hey! You can't just kiss me and walk away! Alhaitham! Don't ignore me!”

 

He didn't get a reply.

 

“..Jerk,” Kaveh huffed under his breath shortly before following after his boyfriend.

Notes:

Why do I keep writing this shittttttttt why can't I be a normal person.

I might write a follow-up chapter if anyone wants it for whatever reason, or when I randomly decide I'm still not satisfied with it in who knows how long. So if you want that, let me know ig? And if you liked this smelly Kavetham fic, maybe consider reading some of the other shit I've posted? It's all Kavetham so far and it's all stupid but I like it when people actually like the stuff I make. ;v;