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Kaveh stared down at the test again, the tiny object clutched in his hand as if it might vanish if he let it go. Two lines. Clear. Stark. Unmistakable. The kind of result you couldn’t misread even if you wanted to.
And Archons, did he want to.
He sat in stunned silence, the quiet of the bedroom doing nothing to ease the storm of thoughts raging in his head. The golden afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the floorboards, but none of that warmth reached him. His heart thudded against his ribs. His fingers felt cold.
He didn’t know how to feel.
Kids were the absolute last thing he and Alhaitham had ever considered. They’d never talked about it seriously. Maybe once, in passing, and even then, it had been a vague “maybe someday, far in the future” sort of thing. But that future had never seemed real. Not when Alhaitham thrived in his quiet, ordered life. Not when Kaveh was still chasing deadlines and sketching blueprints at two in the morning. They’d only been mated for a little over a year, officially, anyway. Though they’d been dancing around each other for far longer than that.
The courting process alone had dragged on forever. Not because of hesitation or uncertainty, but because Alhaitham had absolutely no clue how to court someone and Kaveh, for all his romantic ideals, hadn’t even realized it was happening.
It was almost embarrassing in hindsight. Alhaitham showing up at his office with rare imported coffee beans “because you seemed tired lately.” Alhaitham memorizing his favorite snacks and always having one tucked away “just in case.” Alhaitham listening, really listening, when Kaveh talked about architecture theory or old desert traditions, and then referencing those things weeks later without any fanfare.
At the time, Kaveh had just assumed that was Alhaitham being... weirdly considerate. Or nosy. Or both.
It wasn’t until Tighnari had cornered him one afternoon and said, completely deadpan, “You know he’s courting you, right?” that the pieces finally clicked.
But none of that mattered now.
Not when he had a very real problem quite literally in his pocket.
Kaveh ran a hand through his hair and let out a low, frustrated sigh. How in the world was he supposed to tell Alhaitham he was pregnant?
Would he even want this? Alhaitham was content with his life. Quiet mornings, meticulous routines, long evenings curled up with a book. He was the kind of man who left work at exactly 4:59 if the office closed at five. Efficient, structured, calm.
What was he going to do with a baby?
A baby that screamed at odd hours, destroyed everything in sight, and demanded constant attention?
Kaveh winced just thinking about it. Alhaitham’s precious library. Walls and walls of rare, expensive tomes meticulously catalogued and arranged, would be a disaster zone the second a toddler started crawling.
And then there was his own life. His work. Sure, he wasn’t buried in debt anymore, thank the stars, but his schedule was still packed. Commissions lined up through the end of the year. And even when the designs were finished, he always insisted on overseeing the construction. He couldn’t help it. Watching a vision take shape in real stone and wood was half the reward.
But there’d be no way to do that with a child in tow. He’d have to stop. Pull back. And while part of him didn’t mind the idea in theory, it wasn’t a small shift. It was a whole life change.
Kaveh groaned and flopped back onto the bed, covering his face with his arm. This was too much thinking for one day.
He needed advice. A second opinion. Someone who could help him untangle the chaos in his mind. That’s when it hit him. Tighnari. He’d mentioned in a letter that he’d be visiting the city this week, something about a meeting with the amurta scholars and checking in with colleagues at the Akademiya.
If anyone could help him think this through, it was Tighnari.
Kaveh sat up suddenly, shoving the test into his pocket. He grabbed his shoes, pulled on his cape, and headed out the door without bothering to double-check his hair, which was how he knew he was really stressed.
The walk through the streets of Sumeru City was brisk, purposeful. The city was alive as usual, awash with movement and the buzz of academia. Researchers hurried past him, their robes flapping, while merchants hawked fragrant teas and fresh fruit on the corners.
He found Tighnari, by pure luck, just outside the Akademiya steps, a small satchel slung over one shoulder and an armful of scrolls in his hands.
“Tighnari!”
Tighnari turned before Kaveh had even finished calling his name. His ears twitched slightly, and his nose crinkled familiarly.
“Kaveh?” he said, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
Kaveh waved a hand in mild dismissal. “Yes, yes, don’t worry about that. Are you free right now? I need to talk to you. urgently.”
Tighnari blinked. “Uh... I was just finishing some errands, but sure?” He shifted the scrolls to one arm and gave a light shrug. “I guess I’m done with work. What’s going on?”
“Great,” Kaveh said, already turning. “Come on. I need caffeine, and you’re coming with me.”
Tighnari followed, mildly concerned but not surprised. He’d seen Kaveh in one of those moods before.
They walked a few blocks in comfortable silence until they reached Puspa Café, a quiet little spot tucked between the florist’s and an old bookstore. The smell of cinnamon and spiced coffee drifted from the open windows. They found a seat near the back, a small booth half. Hidden behind a potted plant.
Once they were settled, Kaveh ordered a mild chai, resisting the urge to go for his usual strong coffee. He’d read somewhere that caffeine wasn’t ideal during pregnancy, and figured it was best to start making the change now. Across from him, Tighnari ordered his usual herbal tea without comment.
Tighnari leaned forward, fixing Kaveh with a pointed look. “Alright. What’s going on?”
Kaveh hesitated. Then he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the test, sliding it across the table with a sheepish look.
Tighnari stared at it for a beat. Then blinked. Then looked back at Kaveh. “…Is that what I think it is?”
“Yes,” Kaveh said, in a voice that was both exasperated and panicked. “Yes, it is. And I don’t know what to do.”
Tighnari leaned back in his seat, ears flicking. “Well, damn.”
Kaveh ran a hand down his face, and the exhaustion. Emotional more than physical. Settling deep in his bones.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell Alhaitham,” he muttered, voice muffled against his sleeve. “We’ve never actually talked about this. Ever! Not even once!”
Tighnari raised a brow and let out a short, exasperated sigh. “Isn’t this the kind of thing you’re supposed to talk about before getting mated?”
Kaveh groaned and lowered his head fully onto the table, speaking so softly it was almost a whisper. “It never really came up…”
Tighnari snorted, but his expression softened. “Of course it didn’t.”
He took a slow sip of his tea, watching Kaveh with the patient amusement of someone who’d known him too long to be surprised by his dramatic spirals. Then he leaned back slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
“Look, I don’t know why you’re so worked up. It’s Alhaitham. The man is head over heels for you. You could tell him you want to raise a baby in the middle of a sandstorm and he’d probably build a crib out of crystalflies just to make it happen.”
Kaveh slowly lifted his head, though he kept his cheek resting on his crossed arms. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared off to the side as Tighnari’s words sank in.
And… he wasn’t wrong.
Alhaitham was the kind of person who didn’t say much, didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve. But when he loved, he acted. He did things.
Like participating in a literal coup against the Sages, all to ensure Kaveh could have a future where art and architecture were not just accepted, but respected. He hadn’t made a grand speech about it. He hadn’t even told Kaveh what he was doing until after it was done. But Kaveh had known. He’d felt it, deep in his chest. that quiet, unwavering support Alhaitham never failed to give him, even when they were arguing, even when it hurt.
Tighnari spoke again, breaking through his thoughts.
“He’d obviously take some time to process it. It’s Alhaitham, after all. He processes things like he’s assembling a philosophical thesis. But I really think he’d be happy. Eventually.”
Kaveh let out a breath, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. He turned his face fully toward his friend and offered a small, tired smile.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Tighnari blinked as the realization clicked. “Wait. Isn’t it your birthday in a few days?”
Kaveh nodded slowly. “Yeah. And knowing Alhaitham, he’s already planned something quiet and private. Probably dinner at home, maybe even a gift if he’s feeling sentimental.”
“Well, there you go,” Tighnari said, gesturing with one hand. “That’s your window. He’ll already be focused on you. It’s the perfect time to say something.”
Kaveh chewed his lip. “I guess… But it feels so selfish, doesn’t it? Using my birthday to drop a bomb like this?”
Tighnari gave him a flat look. “It’s not a bomb, Kaveh. It’s a baby. It’s kind of a big deal.”
“I know,” Kaveh muttered. “But you know how he is. What if he shuts down? What if he panics? Or worse. What if he doesn’t want this?”
Tighnari leaned forward slightly, his voice calm and even. “Kaveh. He loves you. He might be logical and emotionally constipated, but I’ve never once seen that man put his own comfort ahead of your happiness. You’re not forcing this on him. You’re letting him into something you’re both a part of now.”
Kaveh was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded, more to himself than anyone. “Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll tell him at the dinner.”
“Are you going to just blurt it out, or are we going for some dramatic, artsy reveal?” Tighnari asked, eyebrow raised in amusement.
Kaveh paused.
“…I was thinking of putting the test in a gift box and handing it to him.”
Tighnari snorted. “Archons. That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Or maybe I could sketch a little blueprint of a crib and wrap it up. ”
“Nope, never mind. That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”
Despite himself, Kaveh laughed. It was quiet and shaky, but real. The nerves were still there, sure, but for the first time since taking the test, he didn’t feel quite so alone in it.
Tighnari smiled, satisfied. “Whatever you choose, just… keep it honest. Don’t overthink it too much.”
Kaveh nodded, more sure now. “Thanks, Tighnari. Really.”
“Anytime,” he said, finishing his tea. “Besides, I have to look out for my favorite dramatic architect and his emotionally illiterate soulmate.”
—-
There were only a few hours left until Kaveh’s birthday, but rather than feeling excited, he’d never been more anxious in his life. His stomach had been in knots for days, a constant ache that no amount of tea or distraction could settle.
Even the day he moved in with Alhaitham. a day filled with bickering, logistical chaos, and an emotional storm he wasn’t ready to name. Hadn’t shaken him like this.
He turned over slowly in bed, eyes drifting toward the familiar shape beside him. Alhaitham was fast asleep, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast soft shadows across his face, making him look even more serene.
It was close to 4 a.m., and Kaveh hadn’t slept a single minute.
He let out a low groan and shifted onto his side, curling inward in a vain attempt to find some comfort. That’s when it hit him.
The unmistakable, burning sensation of bile rising in his throat.
His eyes widened. Panic set in.
He jolted upright and scrambled out of bed, the blankets tangling around his legs as he stumbled toward the bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet before doubling over, the sound of retching echoing off the cold tiles.
There wasn’t anything left in his stomach. Not after hours of emptiness. But his body continued to convulse with dry heaves, cruel and relentless.
“Kaveh?” Alhaitham’s voice was groggy but sharp with concern.
Kaveh didn’t even have the strength to respond before his body betrayed him again, hunched over the porcelain bowl.
In moments, he felt Alhaitham's presence beside him. Warm hands anchoring him by the shoulders, a soothing voice grounding him.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Take it easy. I’m here. Don’t worry.”
The sound of his voice, low and calm, nearly undid Kaveh. His eyes stung with tears he hadn’t realized were there. He hated feeling like this. So fragile, so out of control.
It took another long minute before his body began to relent, the heaves dying down to trembling breaths. He slumped back against Alhaitham’s chest, weak and shaken.
Alhaitham shifted carefully, keeping one arm around Kaveh’s waist as he reached for a towel. He soaked it with cool water and gently wiped the sweat and tears streaked face pressed against him. Then, without a word, he handed Kaveh a glass of water.
“Rinse,” he said softly.
Kaveh obeyed. His throat burned, and the coolness of the water was a relief, even if temporary.
“Is everything okay?” Alhaitham asked, voice still hushed but tinged with something more. Worry, maybe even fear.
Kaveh nodded, too drained to form words. But he knew the truth.
He was pregnant.
And based on the growing frequency of these early morning nausea spells, he had to be well into the first trimester. The realization pressed heavily against his chest. He wasn’t just sick from stress or overwork. His body was changing, transforming, carrying a secret he hadn’t had the courage to share.
Alhaitham sighed, running a hand through his hair before resting it gently on Kaveh’s back.
“I told you not to take on so many commissions. You’re burning yourself out. Even your scent has been off for weeks. Something’s not right.”
Kaveh stiffened.
He knew Alhaitham meant well. He always did. But right now, the words scraped against every raw nerve Kaveh had left. His body ached. His emotions were strung so tight he felt like he could snap at any moment. And then he did.
Without thinking, without meaning to, he shoved Alhaitham’s hand away, the sharp clap of skin on skin breaking the quiet like a crack of thunder.
“I get it!” he snapped, louder than he intended. “I know my job isn’t easy. But you don’t have to keep rubbing it in my face every chance you get!”
Alhaitham recoiled slightly, not in anger, but in surprise. His eyes widened, but his mouth remained a straight line.
“Kaveh, that’s not what I meant. ”
“Just leave it,” Kaveh said, voice brittle with exhaustion. “I’m tired. I just… I want to sleep.”
There was a pause. Heavy, tense.
Then Alhaitham nodded slowly, saying nothing more. He helped Kaveh to his feet with steady hands and led him gently back to bed.
They didn’t speak as they lay down again, Kaveh curling inward, turned away, eyes burning with guilt. Alhaitham’s back remained straight, his breathing even, but distant.
Kaveh stared at the wall, the weight of it all crashing over him. He hadn’t meant to snap. Hadn’t meant to hurt him. Alhaitham was only trying to help, to understand. But how could he, when Kaveh hadn’t said a word about the baby?
He buried his face in the pillow, heart aching. Happy birthday to me, he thought bitterly. He’d ruined everything before it even began.
—
Morning hadn't come soon enough.
Kaveh had spent most of the night watching the hours crawl by. He felt like he was holding his breath the entire time. When Alhaitham finally stirred beside him, stretching into the soft light of dawn, Kaveh tried to pretend he hadn't been awake the whole time.
Even with exhaustion pulling at his bones, he got up with him, shadowing Alhaitham’s movements around the bedroom.
Alhaitham paused more than once, casting sideways glances as he pulled on his boots and adjusted the fall of his cloak. “Are you sure you’ll be alright at home today?”
Kaveh gave a noncommittal shrug, then offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ve got a commission scheduled for later in the evening. I’ll be fine.”
Alhaitham didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press. Instead, he stepped close, pressed a soft kiss to Kaveh’s forehead, and murmured, “Happy birthday, hayati.”
Kaveh said nothing as the door clicked shut behind him.
Happy birthday,
he repeated bitterly in his mind.
Then he collapsed back into bed, eyes stinging.
—-
The commission had dragged on longer than he expected. His client, a well meaning researcher, had been more talkative than productive. Still, Kaveh kept his composure.
“I heard it’s your birthday today!” the man had chirped as they sat down with blueprints between them. “Why the work, Light of Kshahrewar? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating?”
Kaveh gave a tired chuckle. “Well, I figured I’d give my partner time to set up whatever surprise he thinks he’s hiding from me.”
“Ahhh, I see,” the man grinned. “Aren’t you lucky to have him.”
Kaveh’s smile faltered for the briefest second. “Yeah… I am. Shall we get started?”
—-
The sun was beginning to sink by the time Kaveh made it back home.
The moment he stepped inside, warm scents wrapped around him. Roasted spices, garlic, and something gently sweet. Comforting.
“Kaveh?” Alhaitham’s voice called from the kitchen. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“I’m going to wash up,” Kaveh replied, not trusting himself to say more without his voice cracking.
He took his time in the bathroom. When he was done, he reached behind a stack of neatly folded towels and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box. The weight of it was heavier than it should have been. For what it held, and for what it meant.
His hand trembled slightly as he tucked it into the pocket of his robe before heading toward the dining table.
The spread awaiting him was ridiculous in the best way. Alhaitham had prepared everything he loved. Every dish, every small favorite. There was even freshly baked bread and that spiced soup he’d once offhandedly mentioned during a rainy afternoon months ago.
The last dish was placed down with practiced calm, and then Alhaitham took a seat beside him.
“Happy birthday, hayati,” he said again, voice warmer this time, as if he knew how much Kaveh needed to hear it.
And then he poured him a glass of rich, deep red wine. Imported, rare, and his favorite.
Kaveh’s stomach turned.
He stared at the wine, and guilt twisted like a hook behind his ribs. He couldn’t drink that. Not now. Not with the baby. But if he didn’t…
Alhaitham would know.
So he swallowed hard, heart hammering in his chest.
“Wait. Alhaitham,” he said quickly, voice suddenly tight and hoarse. “We need to talk.”
Alhaitham paused, confused. He set the wine glass down slowly and turned to face him.
Kaveh reached into his pocket and pulled out the box, pressing it into Alhaitham’s hands with unsteady fingers.
Now Alhaitham looked even more confused. “It’s your birthday, and I get the gift?”
“Just… open it,” Kaveh muttered, unable to meet his eyes.
Alhaitham gently pulled the ribbon free, opened the lid, and stared.
Inside, nestled in soft fabric, was a single pregnancy test. Positive, clear as day.
He went completely still.
“Kaveh… is this…”
Kaveh’s chest ached. “I know we’ve never really talked about kids. Or what this kind of future would even look like for us. I know it’s sudden. I know it’s not… ideal.”
His voice cracked, and the tears spilled over before he could stop them.
“I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to ruin tonight. I didn’t want to ruin this. But then you poured the wine and I just. I couldn’t lie anymore.”
Still silence.
And Kaveh couldn’t take it.
“I’m sorry for springing this on you like this. I just… I didn’t know what else to do. Please. Just say something. Anything.”
But Alhaitham said nothing.
Not yet.
He simply stared down at the small plastic test in his hand like it had rewritten the laws of the world.
And all Kaveh could do was sit there, shaking, waiting for the man he loved to speak.
Kaveh could barely look up. His vision was blurred with tears, and his hands were clenched tightly in his lap. But then he heard a sound. Soft, breathy.
And when he finally glanced up at Alhaitham, he froze.
Tears.
Alhaitham’s eyes were filled with them, unshed but shining in a way that made Kaveh’s breath hitch.
“...We’re having a baby?” Alhaitham asked, voice trembling ever so slightly.
He didn’t say ’You’re pregnant?’ He didn’t say ’How?’ or ’Why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ or ’What are we going to do?’ None of the things Kaveh had been dreading.
Instead, he said it like a prayer. Soft, stunned, reverent. Like Kaveh had just told him he hung the stars in the sky with his bare hands.
Kaveh blinked, startled by the sheer warmth in Alhaitham’s voice. “You’re not mad?”
Alhaitham let out a quiet, breathless laugh, then crossed the space between them in an instant. He pulled Kaveh into his arms with a kind of urgency that nearly made Kaveh lose balance, holding him like he was something precious, fragile, beloved.
“Mad?” Alhaitham murmured, tucking his face into the crook of Kaveh’s neck. “Kaveh, how could I ever be upset? You could never tell me something better than this.”
Kaveh sputtered, still overwhelmed. “But we’ve never even talked about kids. You know how much work they are! You hate work! And. Your library! You love your books. Kids destroy books, Alhaitham. It’s practically a rite of passage!”
Alhaitham pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, hands still cupping Kaveh’s face gently.
“Have you… been worrying about this the whole time?” he asked softly.
Kaveh looked down, ashamed. “I know it’s stupid but… yeah. All I can think about is how this is just going to burden you. That I’m going to burden you.”
Alhaitham shook his head, firm but gentle. “Kaveh. You could never be a burden to me. Not in this life or any other. And a child? My child? That’s the best thing you could ever give me.”
Kaveh made a noise like a breathless sob, like his heart was collapsing in on itself in the best way possible.
“I love you, Alhaitham,” he whispered, the words raw and real.
And then Alhaitham kissed him.
It was slow and reverent and grounding, like an oath made without words. Like home.
When they finally parted, Alhaitham rested his forehead against Kaveh’s and smiled.
“I love you too. Now come on, let’s eat before all your birthday dinner goes cold.”
With a gentle touch, Alhaitham helped Kaveh back into his chair, quietly taking the wine glass and replacing it with a cool, fruity drink without a single word. Kaveh caught the gesture and smiled.
They began to eat, the food warm and comforting, but the tension had bled away entirely. The silence between them wasn’t heavy anymore. It was soft. Golden.
Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Kaveh leaned back in his chair and said, casually, “So… what do you think? Do you want a little version of me running around, or a tiny, book-hoarding mini you glaring at everyone from the corner?”
Alhaitham didn’t miss a beat. “Definitely a mini you.”
Kaveh blinked, mock. offended. “Seriously? You’d pick a loud, overly emotional, chaos machine over a perfectly logical, quiet brooding baby like yourself?”
Alhaitham smiled. “I already live with one of those. I think I can handle the upgraded version.”
Kaveh gasped, hand to his chest. “Rude!”
“But accurate,” Alhaitham added, deadpan.
Kaveh laughed, kicking him lightly under the table. “Okay, but be honest. You really want to deal with two of me?”
Alhaitham sat back down and looked him square in the eye. “Yes. Because then I get two people with that ridiculous stubbornness, that smile, and that very loud way of loving. And I think the world could use more of that.”
Kaveh’s cheeks flushed immediately. “Ugh, don’t say things like that without warning! I wasn’t prepared.”
Alhaitham smirked. “Good.”
Kaveh groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Archons, our kid is going to have your smugness and my drama. We're doomed.”
“Then we’ll be doomed together,” Alhaitham said, reaching out to take his hand again.
Kaveh peeked at him from between his fingers, heart full.
“Fine,” he muttered, “but if they grow up to monologue every minor inconvenience, that’s on you.”
Alhaitham just smiled. “I’ll take full responsibility… for loving both of you.”
And Kaveh, for once in his life, couldn’t find a single thing to say.
So instead, he leaned forward and kissed him again.