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Kaveh's eyes following the dancing couple now rested on the glass of wine in front of him, mind quite foggy as he chugged his third (fourth?) glass of wine that night. Just enough to distract him away from his thoughts. Just enough to engulf the pathway of his thoughts in mist, even if temporarily.
He sets the now empty glass down, laying his head down on the table as he rests his head on his arms, sighing. He feels eyes on him, so he moves just a little, to take a peek; catching sight of Al-Haitham's teal ones, slight concern visible in them and Kaveh feels guilty as Al-Haitham reaches out one hand, giving Kaveh's arm a squeeze before he stands up from the table and walks away, to pay for the tab, probably.
And he's right; Al-Haitham comes back not too long after, giving kaveh's arm a squeeze again. Time to go back, Kaveh understands.
They leave the tavern, Kaveh looks at anything but Al-Haitham's eyes. He knows if he looks at them, he'll feel guilty. He knows he is unworthy of the gaze that Al-Haitham gifts him, he is unworthy of the gentleness and love in Al-Haitham's eyes, looking at nothing but Kaveh.
He is afraid of seeing those teal eyes, so full of love he doesn't deserve.
They don't speak.
They finally arrive back home after a few minutes. Al-Haitham closes the door behind him as Kaveh sits on one of the couches. Reaching for the fruit sitting on the plate as a song plays in the back.
Huh…?
Kaveh turns his head, carmine eyes meeting teal, and Al-Haitham holds his hand out to Kaveh. Kaveh looks at Al-Haitham questioningly, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looks at Al-Haitham's offered hand and then his eyes.
He throws him another questioning look, his hand slowly rises, hesitant to take Al-Haitham's. The younger's lips slightly upturn in a small smile when Kaveh accepts his offer, he holds his hand gently, firmly as he pulls Kaveh up, holding his body close to his as a hand comes to wrap around his waist. Kaveh follows Al-Haitham's steps, resting one hand on Al-Haitham's shoulder. He doesn't ask questions, no. He knows this. Knows that they don't need to ask questions and have a full understanding.
He's more than happy for Al-Haitham's silent company.
Al-Haitham guides their movements, pulling Kaveh closer, possibly to stop him from hitting objects around as they make turns in the living room. Turning, pulling close and away and much closer again as they sway around the room, just the two of them. Al-Haitham buries his nose in Kaveh's hair, and Kaveh wants to bury himself deep into the ground. He's pressed close to Al-Haitham's chest, and he hears. Hears the way Al-Haitham's heart beats. For you, for you.
He's confused. Overwhelmed. Why? why?
His face turns warm in Al-Haitham's hold, and he finds comfort in the sound of Al-Haitham's beating heart, finds comfort in the unsaid words. The song from before stops, but they still sway, they still dance uncaring. A bit abruptly as Kaveh's eyes glaze over and Al-Haitham kisses his eyes, kisses his tears without stopping their movement.
Kaveh smiles, he gives Al-Haitham's hand a squeeze before he takes charge of their dance, swaying and turning without any care. They keep this up for some time before they bump into the couch and lose their balance, falling down. Al-Haitham's hand rises and holds the back of Kaveh's head protectively, his other arm wrapped around Kaveh's waist.
Kaveh laughs when they hit the floor, at the absurdity of it. At the tight, full of love feeling wrapping around his chest and squeezing his heart. Al-Haitham caresses his cheek then, and Kaveh's heart burns when his eyes meet those teal eyes again. Looking at Kaveh with so much love and care, battling Kaveh's guilt when Kaveh finds himself craving his touch, his words.
He averts his eyes, Al-Haitham whispers:
"You are more than deserving of love."
Al-Haitham's voice is smooth and sweet, dripping with honey as he takes Kaveh under his spell.
They lay on the floor in silence then, not making any move to get up. Kaveh pulls himself closer to Al-Haitham, not resisting when Al-Haitham plants a kiss on his messy hair and massages his scalp. Kaveh doesn't speak a word. He's sure, that if he does, he won't be able to stop his tears from flowing, won't be able to stop himself from saying that he needs Al-Haitham, he craves . His eyes burn, his heart and whole body burns when he presses himself close to Al-Haitham’s chest, ear against his heart. He never wants to forget the scent that fills his lungs till it's all he can smell, the scent that smells too much of coffee and old books. He never wants to let go of Al-Haitham, not again. He wants to press himself closer to him till he's all that he knows. All that he can hear, smell and feel.
And he lets himself have it, just this once. Lets himself to be loved back by the man so dear to him.