Chapter Text
Birthdays. Birthdays were an intriguing thing–well, at least to Alhaitham. Birthdays were something meant to be celebrated, cherished. Celebrate what exactly? Their existence? Alhaitham never really did get the purpose of it. What was so special about birthdays–surely people weren't so conceited as to celebrate their greatness and whatnot every year right? Were they celebrating another year of survival? That seemed improbable. Were they celebrating achievements? That seemed more likely…but why on that day? Alhaitham sure had loads of awards and titles, but he never saw the need to celebrate it–so was it just him who didn't see the point or what?
Honestly, he’d always thought people were a little too enthusiastic about the day they were born. Wouldn’t it have been better to apply all that towards their daily lives and improve their standards of living? He sure could think of a few people who could…
It was an interesting thing to ponder about during his free time–well he had lots of free time but that didn't matter. He remembered asking Kaveh once about it. Kaveh was dense as fuck–but he admittedly did have some semblance of knowledge when it came to societal norms, though Alhaitham sure as fuck wasn’t going to admit it. Kaveh was a genius–probably the smartest man he'd met, but fuck no way was he ever gonna admit that. Even Alhaitham had his own secrets…though they admittedly all revolved around the blonde beacon in his life–the damned bastard of a man with those carmine eyes, long lashes, plush pink lips and that absolutely baker–wait what?!
Anyways–Kaveh had just looked him in the eye and stared at him for a good minute and 43 seconds(yes he counted) before replying with a “what the genuine fuck??” Was that question truly so preposterous? He wouldn't know–he thought it was a perfectly normal one!
Either way, he didn't press further–maybe it was some sort of sacred ritual type of thing which he didn't get, another one of society’s “traditions and norms” which were just there? But hey– at least he got free presents on his birthday, and he definitely wasn't going to complain about some delicious food(as long as it wasn't soup) and mora.
Throughout the years, it had sort of become a pattern for him. On his birthday, his friends–no–acquaintances(he had like one friend and that was it) snuck into his office and dropped off their gifts before he arrived. Honestly, it was how he'd preferred it–no unnecessary communication, no awkwardness. Besides they all knew he was thankful for the gifts–though he wasn't one to verbalise them.
So it definitely wasn't a surprise to see his table laden with bags and boxes when he strode in on the 11th, shirt pressed, cape ironed, and right on the dot. Though…he definitely didn't recall there being so many gifts the previous year. Looks like overthrowing the Akademiya sages sure did win you some respect..!
Placing his satchel on the edge of his desk carefully, he sits down on his chair, gently taking a look at the variety of gifts splayed out for him. He sees a deck of TCG cards with a horrendous joke written on a small note next to them–fron Cyno no doubt (how does he even come up with these?), a book on botany and another on semantics from Tighnari (it would be fun to dissect the latter of the two–and it didn't exactly hurt to expand his horizons and pester Kaveh with facts about plants), two tickets to the upcoming performance at the Zubayr Theatre from Nilou (what did she mean by “hope you put it to good use *wink wink*?”), a small intricate dreamcatcher from Nahida (the red sure did look like Kaveh’s eyes…), a bracelet from Wanderer and Sethos with a note saying “PLEASE GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER” (his life was perfectly fine as it is what did they mean? Maybe he'd give the bracelet to Kaveh–it’d look good on him anyways), and a bottle of…lube?!
Alhaitham nearly chokes at the sight of it. Zaytun Peach scented lube–what the fuck. It didn't help matters that that was Kaveh's favourite fruit–would he like it if it was used on him, Alhaitham coated in it, stretching him out, hearing him moan and tremble in his arms–he really had to get a hold on his imagination didn't he. He's snapped out of his thoughts again and glares at his pants, obscenely tented. Seems like he might have gotten a little too carried away in his thoughts…but fuck no way was he going to give in. He glares at his issue, forcing it away with nothing but sheer willpower–too bad there wasn't a bathroom here because a cold shower sure did sound amazing.
As usual Kaveh’s gift was missing from the gift pile—but he wasn’t surprised. He rarely did get physical gifts from him. As far as he remembered—it was something like a tradition from their Akademiya days, though abandoned during the split. So it did come as a pleasant surprise when the same thing was picked up once again when Kaveh moved in 3 years ago…and like the lovestruck simp he was—of course he loved Kaveh’s gifts, no matter what. Honestly, who wouldn’t? They were often thoughtful, kind, genuine—and always reserved for his, and his eye alone. Not to mention he’d always ask him what he wanted alongside the gift—anything of his choosing. He remembers the first time he was asked it, the surprise and confusion coursing through him, before being replaced with the undeniable want—need to say him. It was truly all he wanted. Kaveh, and Kaveh alone. And much to his chagrin, the blasted feeling’s only been growing worse as the days pass by. Heck, he wakes up unbearably hard at least twice a week now—all the blonde’s fault of course. Damn him and his perfectly sculpted body, husky voice, naturally pink cheeks-
He seriously had to stop with this—imagine someone walked into his office and found him in…this state. He pockets the lube and neatly organises the rest of the gifts, placing them in his bag to take home later, and dives right into work. Maybe he’ll be able to clock out earlier today? He seriously couldn’t wait for some alone time—or Kaveh time. Both sounded good to him!
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At fucking last it was five. Archons, he hated his job at times. Idiot after idiot just walking in with those confident smiles on their faces—as if they’ve done something phenomenal! It was utter stupidity he had to say. Half the scholars walking in hadn’t even graduated from the Akademiya yet, and the other half shouldn’t even have gotten into the Akademiya in the first place. He had to admit the standards were slowly dropping. So many would storm in demanding for answers, begging him to approve their theses—he couldn’t even decipher half of them! And somehow he was the bad guy for stating it right to their face that they had to buck up. What a load of absolute crap. Humans these days…
He gathers his items and strides out of work, visibly annoyed, earphones plugged in, and noise-cancelling turned on. Just as he’s about to leave, a scholar stops him, a paper in hand.
“M-mister scribe?”
“If you’re asking me to review your thesis then I’m afraid you’ll have to come back later. It is after my working hours right now.”
“N-no! T-that’s not what I’m here for!”
“Well? Out with it—I don’t have all day.”
She quickly hands him the paper, Knights of Favonius stamp pasted on it, accompanied by a bag.
“I-its a letter from Mondstadt which came for y-you just now!”
“I see—thank you then. You may take your leave now.” At those words, she all but scurries off in a hurry. Surely he wasn't that scary right? Whatever—looks like he had some more…pressing matters to attend to. If the Knights were sending him letters personally—then surely something was up.
He opens the letter—only to see nothing much inside.
“Hey cutie, enjoy the gifts we sent you. We heard you like things to the point so Happy Birthday! Oh and tell Collei and the others we say hi!
—A blunette with an eyepatch, the hot librarian, and the tormented blonde”
Well…that was unexpected. Weren’t they all Cyno and Tighnari's acquaintances? Why were they giving him something? He looks inside the bag curiously, and turns red at the sight. Handcuffs. Specifically red and green handcuffs. Why the fuck were they sending him handcuffs, and why did they suspiciously look like Kaveh and his eyecolours blended together..? They didn’t think they were an item…did they? Well—unfortunately for them, they weren’t—but oh how he wished they could be.
Suddenly, he feels a hand on his back and he nearly jumps up, ready to berate the damned soul who nearly killed him. Well, until his eyes met a pair of beautiful carmine ones, eyelashes fluttering in the Sun.
“What are you doing here?” He tries to keep his voice even, steeling himself back into his deadpan form.
“Coffee, you want some? I got a cup for you too.” He takes it graciously and sips it, the warm bitter flavour encasing his mouth, just how he likes it. Kaveh’s eyes land on the bag with the handcuffs, his eyes widening slightly as he blushes furiously. Oh gods he looked so pretty like that. Alhaitham wonders for a second how much more could he make him blush if he were pinned to his bed, underneath him.
“Are those..?”
“Yeah—don’t ask.”
“I..see. Let’s go home then? There’s something waiting for you.”
“Fine by me.”
They walk home in awkward silence, Kaveh seemingly lost in his own thoughts, Alhaitham still reeling from the handcuffs.
They reach home and he opens the door, only to be greeted by what he can call the most awe-inspiring thing he has ever seen—other than Kaveh of course. Softly lit lights, classical music playing in the background, the plates set on the table—heck it was romantic as fuck, but he did know better than to think it meant something.
“I tried my best..hehe!”
“That…actually looks amazing—you’ve outdone yourself for once Kaveh.”
“I-it's nothing—come eat! I’ll be in my room drawing so you can call someone over and like enjoy this date sort of thing? Might even help you bag a hot chick or something!” He laughs sheepishly, about to turn away and go to his room.
“Only hot chick I want is you, veh” Alhaitham silently mumbles to himself, dazed.
“Wait! Don’t go—would you mind having dinner with me instead?” He asks, uncertain but hopeful.
“Don’t you have anyone to ask out or something? Why me?
“I’ve never had the need for such feelings when it comes to other individuals, so why not enjoy it as a dinner between two friends? And who better to ask than the man who set this up himself? It’s only logical.” There’s so many things left unsaid with those words—he has to physically restrain himself from blurting out everything he wants to say, he needs to say. Kaveh was the exception to the firm line he’d drawn between himself and society, always the exception.
Kaveh turns red at his response, stammering out a flustered yes before running off to get changed. He changes into a suit—the only formal piece of attire he owns and wears a red tie alongside it, the colour of Kaveh’s eyes and goes back to the table, taking a seat and waiting patiently for the blonde. Needless to say, he wasn’t disappointed, nearly salivating at the sight walking up to him.
Adorned in a cream suit, emerald tie and hair let loose—Kaveh looks absolutely divine, the fitted suit accentuating his curved hips. Golden locks cascade down his neck, pooling elegantly near his shoulders—silky and soft. Oh how Alhaitham wishes to run his fingers through them slowly, gently, whispering sweet nothings in his ear while he fucks him senseless. Kaveh looked absolutely ruinous in his beauty, and Alhaitham definitely didn’t mind being ruined by this piece of art. Heck, he felt himself hardening in his pants at the mere sight of the blonde.
At the very least, Kaveh’s not left completely unaffected either, letting out a soft gasp when he sees the silver one sitting there regally poised like a king. And heck if that sound didn’t make Alhaitham ten times harder for the blonde. They serve themselves their dinner and Kaveh takes out a bottle of wine, pouring it into each glass for them to enjoy. Soon, they engage in idle chatter, lost in their own worlds of peace and quiet.
Dinner soon finishes and Kaveh gets up, about to place their dishes in the sink when he asks him the question—the same one he does every year.
“Haitham? What do you want this year for your birthday?”
Oftentimes he just sits there, dazed by the question, Kaveh offering anything, absolutely anything to him on that day. He always knows what he wants to say—yet chickens out, maybe out of fear, or hesitance—even he isn’t sure. But this time, maybe its the wine getting to him, or the way the soft light bathes the blonde in its radiant glow, or the way his lips purse together waiting for an answer, Alhaitham blurts it out.
“I…I want you.”
And then, it’s too late—what’s said has been said, no taking it back, no backtracking at all. The blonde’s eyes widen in surprise, or fear—and a brief look of panic overcomes Alhaitham. Had he done something wrong?
“Did you just..?”
There’s no turning back now—Kaveh’s heard him, he’s asking and Alhaitham is utterly and completely gone. For him, or in general—he doesn’t know. So he replies, admitting the truth, because what else can he do right now?
“Yes. I want you Kaveh, and only you.”