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“Isn’t that amazing? I mean, this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Who knows when I’ll get a chance like this next?” Kaveh beams at Alhaitham from across the table.
It’s a strange thing, to form a smile with no true happiness behind it, but Alhaitham does it anyway. He hopes Kaveh doesn’t read into it too much.
“I see.” Alhaitham glances down at his plate, the bittersweet smile still plastered on his face. “I’m happy for you, Kaveh.”
Kaveh grins, brilliant. It hurts Alhaitham to look at. He’s bright as the sun, with the radiant energy to match. Alhaitham aches.
“I’m going to leave in a week, and—”
“A week?” Alhaitham doesn’t mean to interrupt. But the rope holding his chest together is fraying with every word Kaveh says, and he doesn’t know how long he can keep the ship steady.
“Yeah, I gotta start packing.” Kaveh is oblivious to Alhaitham’s inner turmoil. “They said they’ll have me over for twenty days to see how I do, and maybe— maybe this could be it.” Kaveh’s voice turns determined. “I have to do well.”
Alhaitham swallows thickly. “You’ll be gone for the holidays.”
Kaveh blinks, as if just realizing. “I— I will.”
Alhaitham doesn’t curl his hands into fists. He rests his hands in his lap neatly, interlaced loosely, and stares at a spot next to Kaveh’s eyes. He chews on his cheek. Kaveh looks conflicted, and Alhaitham feels guilty all of a sudden. This is his fault. He shouldn’t have said anything. Selfish. Selfish, selfish, selfish.
“I’m happy for you,” Alhaitham repeats, as if he says it enough, then he’ll start to believe it too.
Kaveh shovels a bite into his mouth. Chews, swallows. Starts speaking. “You could come with? I could ask, I could—”
Alhaitham shakes his head. “No. This is your chance.”
It hurts. It feels like letting Kaveh go. What if he meets someone; someone better than Alhaitham? What if he decides Alhaitham is too cold, too distant, too… unlovable? What if he decides that he’d be better off without Alhaitham?
Alhaitham knows that he should be happy that Kaveh is spreading his wings. He knows he should be thrilled that Kaveh’s gotten such a prestigious offer. He knows.
Still, it stings.
Alhaitham smiles— or, tries to smile— again, attempting to put more emotion behind it. He thinks it doesn’t work, judging by the way Kaveh’s face falls.
“Do you…” Kaveh hesitates, and then forces his face into something more upbeat. Alhaitham is bad at reading faces, but he knows, without a doubt, that Kaveh is putting on a show. He knows Kaveh all too well; well enough to know, at least, when he’s faking something.
“You’ll miss me,” Kaveh teases lightly, face schooled into a smirk. “Can’t live without my amazing presence.”
Alhaitham rolls his eyes. He doesn’t know if he’s grateful for the way out or not. “Sure,” he drawls.
Kaveh laughs, a bright sound that leaves Alhaitham wanting more. He’s selfish. He always wants more, more, more, even when he doesn’t deserve it.
Alhaitham thinks, sometimes— most of the time— that Kaveh is too good for him. Too good, as in: Kaveh feels so deeply and wholly, and Alhaitham struggles to decipher facial expressions.
Alhaitham misses Kaveh. Which is silly, stupid, because Kaveh is right there. But it feels like Kaveh is slipping through his fingers like water through a net, and all Alhaitham can do is watch, or grab fruitlessly and hurt more when his efforts are futile.
“Knew it,” Kaveh chirps. He looks down at his plate, a contrast to the cheerful words coming out of his mouth. Something flickers across his face, too quick for Alhaitham to process or understand.
“Kaveh…” Alhaitham starts, and then trails off. He sets his jaw and looks up. “You should bring me back something good.”
It’s not permission. Kaveh doesn’t need permission from him. Because Alhaitham is nothing to Kaveh except a junior and a roommate. He is not something important. He is not something to be treasured. He is simply Alhaitham. It’s not permission: it’s letting Kaveh go.
The holiday comes. Alhaitham doesn’t celebrate.
Normally, he and Kaveh would exchange gifts. They would sit by the roaring fire and trade neatly-wrapped presents, creases folded carefully over onto each other. It was for different reasons that the gifts were packaged so nicely. Alhaitham needed his wrapping to be neat and careful, while Kaveh’s were so neat simply because of habit. The neatly lined grid paper reminded Kaveh of his blueprints, and perhaps it was muscle memory that kicked in.
Alhaitham would sit there, peeling up the tape carefully, while Kaveh would rip into the packaging like a Rishboland Tiger. It was a whirlwind of a mess. Alhaitham hated messes, but this one, he felt, was alright.
Kaveh would always finish opening his first, and Alhaitham would finish opening his to Kaveh’s delighted noises— or horrified groaning, in the case where Alhaitham gifted him a particularly ugly curtain. It felt… it felt right. Natural. Like home.
It just didn’t feel right to celebrate without Kaveh.
And— it’s not as if he can’t call Kaveh, but Alhaitham feels stuck, somehow, the grief he shouldn’t be feeling clogging up his throat. He doesn’t want to be selfish and take up Kaveh’s precious time.
Alhaitham spends most of the holiday on the couch, looking at the unlit fireplace. There’s an ache in his hollow chest; an empty space that is shaped suspiciously like Kaveh’s laugh.
The house is too quiet.
When Kaveh comes home— no, when Kaveh comes back to the house— Alhaitham is on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
Alhaitham hears Kaveh before he even says a word. The all-too-familiar sounds of the door slamming just a bit harder than Alhaitham would close it, the scuffle of shoes getting kicked off (and the following sigh as Kaveh reluctantly kicks them into place), and the jangle of keys as they get tossed onto the side table.
Alhaitham doesn’t immediately call out. He waits until Kaveh’s footsteps round the corner, and then he turns his head slowly.
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham greets.
Kaveh doesn’t look different. Of course, he doesn’t; it’s been only less than a month; why would he have changed? But still, something feels different. Alhaitham can’t— doesn’t want to— put it into words.
He does anyway, because he never knows how to avoid things that aren’t good for him.
It feels like Kaveh has left him. It feels like Kaveh has found something better than Alhaitham, something that doesn’t require as much energy to maintain. It feels like… it feels like Alhaitham is being replaced.
It’s a stupid thought: being jealous of Kaveh being successful. It’s selfish, is what it is. Alhaitham knows this. He knows this. So why is there a storm raging in his chest when Kaveh’s face lights up at the sight of Alhaitham? Why is there a roaring need to never let Kaveh go again?
“Haitham!” Kaveh’s smile is blinding. He bounds over to where Alhaitham is lying. “Move your feet!”
Alhaitham grumbles wordlessly just for the sake of it, but moves his feet anyway, immediately. Kaveh plops down on the couch, the cushion sinking underneath his weight. It feels like home again, Alhaitham thinks, and then gets upset at himself.
Never before has Alhaitham needed someone in his life like he needs Kaveh. It’s terrifying. All-consuming. He doesn’t know what to do with all this affection.
Kaveh throws his feet up on the coffee table. Alhaitham rolls his eyes.
“Just because you were gone doesn’t mean the rules don’t apply to you anymore,” Alhaitham huffs.
“Rules.” Kaveh waves a hand. “Whatever! Haitham, do you wanna hear how it went?”
Alhaitham really, really doesn’t. He doesn’t want to hear about how he’s being replaced. But Kaveh is looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes, shining, and Alhaitham wouldn’t dream of saying no to him.
“If you get your feet off the table.”
Kaveh rolls his eyes dramatically, but drags his feet off the table. Instead, he throws them over Alhaitham’s own legs, so that they’re all tangled up. Something content in Alhaitham’s chest purrs.
“Better?” Kaveh asks snarkily.
Yes. It really is.
Alhaitham doesn’t reply, instead sitting up to flick Kaveh’s forehead before lying back down.
Kaveh splutters in undignified offense. “Hey!”
Alhaitham can’t hide his small smile. He missed this. He missed Kaveh.
Kaveh sticks his tongue out in Alhaitham’s general direction. “You’re so awful,” but his voice is soft, affectionate, and Alhaitham wants to hear his voice like this forever.
“How did it go?” Alhaitham prompts, instead of answering. He sees the moment Kaveh remembers what he was talking about.
“Oh, yeah! It was so great!” Alhaitham swallows down his jealousy. “They said they’d discuss bringing me back full-time, or at least partially. Isn’t that great? Haitham, I could have a real job.”
There’s something that tastes suspiciously like possessiveness, liquid bile, in the back of Alhaitham’s throat. It doesn’t make sense, because Kaveh isn’t even his. Kaveh never has been, never will be.
“Does that mean you’re going to start paying rent?” Alhaitham asks dryly, instead of voicing what he’s thinking.
Kaveh’s mouth drops open in offense. “I— I’ll have you know that I’ve been keeping up!”
“Uh-huh,” Alhaitham drawls. But it is true; Kaveh’s been getting more commissions as of late, and he’s been able to keep up his end of the deal. And so Alhaitham doesn’t say anything more, just rests his hand on Kaveh’s knee, fingers splaying out.
They sit in silence for a bit. It’s weighted, but in a good way, in the way that a heavy blanket wraps around Alhaitham as he sleeps.
“I missed you.” It’s a bit too vulnerable for Alhaitham’s liking, a bit too… emotions-based— he’s never quite known what to do after confessing something like that— but Kaveh smiles, soft, and Alhaitham doesn’t think it’s all that bad if he gets to see that softness directed at him.
“Missed you too,” Kaveh returns easily. Alhaitham wonders, not for the first time, how it is that Kaveh is able to articulate his feelings with so much ease.
Kaveh’s leg is warm underneath Alhaitham’s hand. The clock ticks steadily in the background. The low hum of appliances thrums underneath everything. Alhaitham is at peace, and he’s scared. He doesn’t know what will break it or when it will shatter. But he knows that good things never last.
“What is wrong with you?” It’s not mean, just searching, but Alhaitham flinches anyway. “You’ve been all weird recently.”
Kaveh’s arms are crossed tightly over his chest. He paces back and forth in front of Alhaitham, dragging a path through the carpet. Alhaitham’s leg drums up and down where he sits on the couch.
“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Alhaitham barely manages not to snap, instead keeping his cool outward demeanor. It wouldn’t be fair to take it out on Kaveh, who’s… who’s right, really. Alhaitham has been weird. Maybe it’s the thought of Kaveh leaving again. Maybe it’s the fact that, no matter what Alhaitham does, he won’t be able to keep Kaveh by his side forever. Maybe it’s the idea of Kaveh finding someone better.
No matter what it is… It’s been bothering Alhaitham. It’s shown, too, he supposes, in the way that his gaze will linger on Kaveh’s back as he walks out the door, or in the way that he gets short with Kaveh when he brings up his new job.
Alhaitham knows it’s not fair. He knows.
“You’re off,” Kaveh insists.
“I—” Alhaitham cuts himself off, hands clenching into fists.
“You what?” Kaveh asks, desperate, almost, but not angry. He should be angry. Why isn’t he angry?
Alhaitham swallows down his sadness and his anger and his pride and meets Kaveh’s eyes in a rare show. He barely looks up at people’s faces, much less meets their gaze. But for Kaveh, he’ll try.
Kaveh looks taken aback, and that’s when Alhaitham realizes that, oh, there are tears in his eyes. He shoves down the feeling of the burning in his nose and throat, down, down, down where it won’t bother him.
“I…” Alhaitham trails off, but this time, Kaveh doesn’t interrupt. He waits. His footsteps pause. Alhaitham’s leg continues to jitter.
Alhaitham’s nails dig crescents into his palms. He feels something vaguely, but can’t put a name to it. It feels like grief, maybe, but less heavy. Resignment.
He can only hold eye contact for so long. He drops it, eyes shifting to the floor, and watches as Kaveh’s feet come closer. Hesitant, but soft.
The couch dips underneath their shared weight as Kaveh sits down. A beat, and then Kaveh scoots closer, resting his head on Alhaitham’s shoulder. When he talks, his words tickle the hairs at the nape of Alhaitham’s neck.
“What’s wrong?”
Alhaitham hates being vulnerable. But even more than that, he hates the idea of Kaveh leaving him. So he sucks it up and rests his head on Kaveh’s and closes his eyes.
“I’m worried,” Alhaitham admits. I’m scared, is what he really wants to say. Kaveh doesn’t speak, just waits, his breath ghosting across Alhaitham’s neck.
“I’m worried,” Alhaitham starts again, softly, because Kaveh’s ear is so close to his mouth. “That I won’t ever be good enough.”
Being vulnerable feels like being defenseless, and being defenseless feels like being weak. It’s a vicious cycle.
Kaveh’s lashes flutter against Alhaitham’s neck as he blinks. “Good enough? For what?” There’s confusion in his voice, paired with something Alhaitham can’t place.
For you.
“I don’t know,” Alhaitham says instead, a weak excuse. He feels Kaveh take a breath to respond and starts talking again, before Kaveh has the chance. “It’s… I just…”
The dam is crumbling. Alhaitham can feel his resolve fracturing. Kaveh’s body is warm against his, and it’s everything Alhaitham could ever want and everything he knows that he’ll never have.
“You’re leaving,” Alhaitham blurts, the first break. Kaveh tilts his head in that way he does when he’s confused, and the movement hurts. Alhaitham knows Kaveh, knows what makes him tick and turn, and knows that he’ll never be able to experience all of Kaveh’s little quirks; at least not in the way that he wants.
“I’m leaving?” Kaveh echoes.
Alhaitham’s nose is burning again. His eyes blur, but the tears don’t fall, as if he’s forgotten how to cry properly. He’s always been awful at emotions, but something about Kaveh brings them all flooding out.
“You’re leaving,” Alhaitham repeats. Selfish, selfish, selfish. He shouldn’t want to keep Kaveh all for himself, but something about Kaveh leaving is terrifying.
Alhaitham’s hands tighten and loosen in a jerky but repetitive pattern.
“Hayi,” Kaveh says softly. He doesn’t move his head, but his slender fingers wrap around Alhaitham’s fists and squeeze gently. His thumb rubs circles into the side of Alhaitham’s palm.
Alhaitham swallows thickly. “You’re leaving,” he repeats yet again, voice tremulous. It’s like he’s stuck on the idea; it’s like he can’t say anything else. It loops in his head on repeat, all-consuming.
Kaveh sighs, and a bolt of fear shoots through Alhaitham’s chest like lightning. This is it. This is where Kaveh says Alhaitham is too much. Alhaitham knows he’s not a good person, as in: he isn’t right. He doesn’t feel like other people do. He doesn’t know how to do emotions well.
“Is that what’s got you all worried?” Kaveh’s voice is gentle. He laughs softly. It’s not mean. Or, at least, Alhaitham doesn’t think it is. “Hayi, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”
“You are,” Alhaitham blurts, feeling suddenly out of control, spiraling, flooded with emotions he doesn’t know how to name, let alone deal with. “You are.”
His breathing is picking up. He knows, logically, he needs to regulate. But he doesn’t regulate in front of Kaveh; not in the way he wants to. It’s just a rule. Kaveh doesn’t need to see that. So he settles for breathing in and out in sets of three until he doesn’t feel like there are ants crawling underneath his skin, begging him to shake them out.
“I know you’re going to leave,” Alhaitham whispers, like a confession. Before Kaveh can respond, Alhaitham continues. “I’m happy for you.” Happy is an easy enough emotion. Simple. Understandable. “I just…”
This time, when Kaveh shifts to speak, Alhaitham doesn’t stop him.
“Is this about my job?” Kaveh asks softly. It makes Alhaitham’s hands hurt. When Alhaitham nods ever so slightly, Kaveh exhales. “You should’ve said something.” His voice is gentle, and Alhaitham hates it. He hates that he has to be treated like something fragile.
Alhaitham’s hands tremble. Kaveh continues to rub patterns into them.
“I’m happy for you,” Alhaitham repeats insistently.
“But that’s different than being happy,” Kaveh counters. Alhaitham doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Alhaitham’s hands itch with the urge to shake out. He shrugs, the movement disjointed and jerky; a far cry from his usual fluidity. “I’m happy for you.” He doesn’t say he’s happy. He’s many things, but he’s not a liar.
Alhaitham often feels like a rock. Steadfast and reliable. Always there but always emotionless. Maybe a painted rock, one to be picked up and taken home and treasured, but a rock nonetheless. Easily able to be left on a windowsill until one grows so used to the unwavering presence he provides that he fades into the background to collect dust.
“Hayi,” Kaveh says, a breath out. He sounds so guilty, and Alhaitham feels all the more worse for it. He didn't want this. He didn't want to upset Kaveh. He just wanted to, maybe… He wanted to feel special. Not in the rock brought home kind of way, and not in a junior way either: in a secret, third way known only to him.
(In a “partners” type of way, something traitorous deep inside him whispers, and it weighs a lot like Kaveh's smile.)
Kaveh shifts, head lifting from its position, and Alhaitham knows that this is where it ends. He knows, because he’s been here before. This is where Kaveh tells him that he’s too much: too clingy, too needy, and all at once not enough of anything at the same time. Alhaitham tries. He tries to tone everything down. He tries not to want as much as he needs. He tries, and he tires of it, and he knows this is where Kaveh puts his foot down.
Kaveh pulls back and sits up. Alhaitham’s chest hurts.
Searching, Kaveh’s hands find Alhaitham’s face and cup it between them like it's something precious. Kaveh turns Alhaitham to face him.
“Hayi.” Kaveh’s voice is full to the brim with something Alhaitham can’t— won’t— name. “You’re so dumb.”
“I know—” Alhaitham starts, and Kaveh cuts him off.
“Hush. Listen.”
Alhaitham hushes.
“How,” Kaveh starts, voice quiet and soft. “Could I ever leave you?”
Kaveh is still talking. Alhaitham can tell. He interrupts anyway.
“Because— because I’m…”
“You’re what?” Kaveh’s thumb brushes over the high of Alhaitham’s cheekbone. “You? Hayi. I love you.”
For once, Alhaitham doesn’t know how to respond. His mind whirrs, and nothing comes up. No thoughts, no suggestions on how he should act or what he should say. It’s a new experience.
Kaveh waits. Always patient when it comes to Alhaitham.
“You… What?” Alhaitham finally manages, shaky, trying to sound strong but failing miserably. His eyes stay fixed firmly downward on his lap. Kaveh’s hands are warm against his cheeks.
Kaveh laughs lightly, the sound like a breath of fresh air. “Do you not see it?”
“See what?” Alhaitham finally, finally looks up at Kaveh. Kaveh is gazing at him with something so unbearably fond in his expression that it hurts. Like looking at the sun.
But instead of answering, Kaveh locks eyes with Alhaitham, searching for a second, before he tips forward. He leans in close enough that they’re sharing air, and one of his hands reaches down to find Alhaitham’s. He squeezes, once. A question.
Is this okay?
Alhaitham nods, hardly daring to breathe, hardly daring to believe.
Kaveh tilts forward and kisses Alhaitham, short and sweet. It’s not fireworks and sparks and everything flashy. It’s chapped lips and warmth, a fireplace as it snows gently outside, and it feels like coming home. Kaveh pulls back after not long enough, and catches Alhaitham’s gaze.
“There,” Kaveh says, with an air of finality. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages. You can’t get it through your thick skull that people actually like you.”
Alhaitham blinks. His hand trembles ever so slightly, but it’s steadied by Kaveh’s.
“I’m not leaving,” Kaveh says, a lot gentler and no less firm. “Hayi. Listen. I am not leaving. I love… I’m in love with you.”
“Oh,” Alhaitham breathes out, hands itching to move, to do something to get the frenetic energy out of them. “You’re not just saying that.” It’s phrased as a statement, and it’s more for Alhaitham than Kaveh. It’s to convince himself.
Kaveh stays quiet, for once, letting Alhaitham process.
“You’re telling the truth.” Another statement. An anchor as Alhaitham’s entire word tilts around him, spinning wildly on its axis.
“How long?” Alhaitham feels like he’s searching blindly in the darkness for answers.
“Hayi.” Kaveh smiles, a bit sad, yes, but so impossibly fond. “Why do you think I chose to live with you, out of everybody?” They both know that any of their classmates would have happily taken the Light of Kshahrewar in as a roommate. But Kaveh chose Alhaitham. He chose.
Alhaitham shouldn’t be choked up. He is anyway.
Alhaitham shrugs. “My rent was cheap,” he mutters.
Kaveh scoffs. “I could’ve lived with people for free. Hayi, I… I like being around you. You make me happy.”
There are so many things Alhaitham wants to say, and not enough words. Even if he had enough words, he wouldn’t know which to pick, anyway, so he supposes it doesn’t matter.
“Oh,” Alhaitham says dumbly, unsure what else to say. He wants to repeat his statements, but he knows that it’s not normal to repeat himself over and over. So instead, he tells it to himself inside his head.
Kaveh is telling the truth. Kaveh is telling the truth.
Alhaitham has waited so long to hear these words come out of Kaveh’s mouth, directed at him, and he never thought that they would actually come. Now that they’re here, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s watching his carefully planned situation scenarios come tumbling down in real time all because his mind is going blank.
Kaveh shakes his head, still smiling softly. Everything about him is soft right now, and Alhaitham doesn’t know what to make of it. Even the sunlight streaming in through the curtains halos him in a fuzzy ring of soft light.
“What would I do without you?” Alhaitham can’t tell if it’s a rhetorical question or not, but it doesn’t matter, because Kaveh leans in and kisses him again and all thoughts escape from his head in a quiet wisp of air.
Kaveh’s lips leave his after a second, but they stay pressed together, foreheads touching, breathing the same air.
“I love you,” Kaveh whispers, and even Alhaitham is able to hear the raw edge of honesty.
Alhaitham will not cry. He won’t. But he inhales and exhales deeply before speaking and hopes that Kaveh doesn't see.
“What now?” He’s not entirely sure what he means: what now, as in, what do they do now, now that they’re all tangled up in the other’s embrace? What do they do now, now that something this raw is out in the open, still bleeding?
Kaveh’s lips curls up in a smile. “Whatever we want, I guess.”
“Whatever we want,” Alhaitham echoes. And it sounds… really, really nice.
But for now, they’ll stay like this, pressed together, basking in the warm glow of the other’s company. Just for a while longer.