[He definitely doesn't realize it, no. He also definitely doesn't realize just how heavily he's leaning on Alhaitham--he is very much convinced that he could pull away and walk home perfectly fine on his own. Such confidence and for WHAT.]
You used t'be so cute. [Grumbles. Aside from the day Alhaitham invited him in, Kaveh's never once brought up their past together; right now, though, with all his inhibitions lowered, it's clear that he didn't forget any of it.] What happened to the obedient little junior who went to the tavern with me?
[That junior was also a brat from the moment they met but Kaveh is conveniently forgetting that part right now. He is not forgetting that Alhaitham almost always brought a book or some other kind of reading to the tavern when Kaveh dragged him out, but the scenes that linger brightest in his memory are always the ones where they sat untouched on the table because they'd been so engrossed in their conversations.
Even drunk like this, though, Kaveh can sense that that's a dangerous path to tread--already, he can feel his mood taking a turn, and he doesn't want that. He's just managed to shake off the stress of work, after all, and he's feeling warm and loose-limbed, so he changes the subject.]
M'not that drunk, anyway. [Yes he is.] You needn't be my keeper.
[ a much younger alhaitham might have flustered at being called cute. this alhaitham knows better than to fixate. you can't erase bad history. ]
"Needn't be." [ alhaitham repeats with a light snort. ] You're speaking like a seventeenth-century aristocrat. You're much more drunk than you realize.
[ in other words, yes, he does need to be kaveh's keeper. he's using the same excuse he had when they were a young pair, debating and doodling in the corner of the tavern together: someone has to take care of kaveh because no one else will—not even kaveh himself. ]
alhaitham suddenly stops, stoops down, and pulls kaveh onto his back. then he wraps his arms around kaveh's thighs and picks him up with minimal effort.
just be happy he didn't princess carry you, kaveh. ]
[Whatever he was going to say gets lost, though, as Alhaitham scoops him up. He's too startled to resist, wrapping his arms loosely around Alhaitham's shoulders on instinct, but he squawks in protest and flails his legs awkwardly.]
He flails a little more, squirming like he wants to wriggle out of Alhaitham's hold--but the world is a little more unsteady than usual, and even though he's gotten comfortable enough to pick fights with Alhaitham (despite being ever-conscious of his place in Alhaitham's home), he doesn't actually want to hurt him. Nor does he want Alhaitham to drop him on the ground.
He gives up his struggles to, instead, tighten his grip on Alhaitham and duck his head down, trying to hide his face in Alhaitham's shoulder. Fortunately (perhaps), he can't see Alhaitham's face this way, so he misses that smile; he also can't see much of anything else unless he angles his face to peek out. It's... unexpectedly soothing, if he's honest; it's much quieter out on the street than it was in the bar, and it's fairly dark if he keeps his head tucked away.
Alhaitham's not wrong, either. It does bring back memories--Kaveh didn't drink so heavily back in those days, and he's got the lingering memories to prove it. If he closes his eyes and breathes in, he can almost imagine that they're both five years younger, that Alhaitham is walking back to the dorms, where Kaveh will sprawl out on his floor and inevitably doze off, unwilling to drag himself back to a cold, empty house. He isn't so drunk as to have lost sight of their current truth, but he lets himself pretend, just for a moment. (The heartache that follows is almost worth it.)
But here and there, amidst the bits and pieces of nostalgia, are flashes of--something. Something he knows he doesn't recognize, but that feels so painfully familiar anyway. Flashes of Alhaitham, looking just as he did when they were younger, in green and white robes that he's never seen before. Warm lamplight and rich wood and golden cups filled with wine in front of them, and Alhaitham looking down at him, exasperated and fond in equal measure, as he'd leaned heavily into Alhaitham's side. These odd moments are rare, but they've happened enough since he'd moved in with Alhaitham that he isn't all that startled by them now.
They're probably just daydreams, after all. Manifestations of all the things Kaveh refuses to let himself think about. It's starting to get out of hand, though. Maybe he should join a help forum.]
You think you're so funny. [It's muttered into Alhaitham's neck, since that's where Kaveh's decided to hide his face.] You've really got everyone fooled.
[So many people think Alhaitham is a robot, but KAVEH KNOWS BETTER. He knows the truth of your little gremlin heart, Alhaitham!!!!]
[ In their college days, Kaveh would never have laid on the floor for long—not without Alhaitham lying there with him, inches between them. At some point, Alhaitham would peel his senior from the floor to escort him to the toilet or sit him upright or, in the best case scenario, prop him up on his bed. There were times when Kaveh's hand would catch on his sleeve, imploring Alhaitham to slide in bed beside him.
Physically, it was simple to brush Kaveh off. Alhaitham knew that revealing his feelings would complicate the sole bit of human connection left in his life. He would lie there and remember his dreams about (his) drunken Kaveh lying over an unfamiliar green couch, arms open and inviting, with half-lidded eyes and a softened mouth. Kaveh would be wearing those colorful clothes and jingling trinkets, and Alhaitham could easily draw the quickest path to remove them. Alhaitham would see the line of sweat in the middle of Kaveh's chest, in the window of skin at the front of his shirt, and he would want to slowly gather it on his tongue before meeting their lips.
So young Alhaitham would sleep on the floor and be out getting coffee whenever Kaveh woke up.
Those dreams haven't left him yet, he's found. They've cropped up again now that they've eaten dinner and visited bars together. Flickers of dreams would pass in front of Alhaitham's eyes, revealing Kaveh as a glowing, mirthful, sometimes sleepy drunk. Each time the dream ended, Alhaitham's heart was left aching.
He prays another dream won't visit him before they make it to his car. He takes a small misstep when Kaveh speaks against his neck, his warm lips and breath skating over his skin. God dammit. They should both visit a health forum at this rate. ]
Fooled? [ He tilts his head towards his shoulder, his eyes briefly flickering towards Kaveh. ] How so?
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no subject
You used t'be so cute. [Grumbles. Aside from the day Alhaitham invited him in, Kaveh's never once brought up their past together; right now, though, with all his inhibitions lowered, it's clear that he didn't forget any of it.] What happened to the obedient little junior who went to the tavern with me?
[That junior was also a brat from the moment they met but Kaveh is conveniently forgetting that part right now. He is not forgetting that Alhaitham almost always brought a book or some other kind of reading to the tavern when Kaveh dragged him out, but the scenes that linger brightest in his memory are always the ones where they sat untouched on the table because they'd been so engrossed in their conversations.
Even drunk like this, though, Kaveh can sense that that's a dangerous path to tread--already, he can feel his mood taking a turn, and he doesn't want that. He's just managed to shake off the stress of work, after all, and he's feeling warm and loose-limbed, so he changes the subject.]
M'not that drunk, anyway. [Yes he is.] You needn't be my keeper.
1/2
"Needn't be." [ alhaitham repeats with a light snort. ] You're speaking like a seventeenth-century aristocrat. You're much more drunk than you realize.
[ in other words, yes, he does need to be kaveh's keeper. he's using the same excuse he had when they were a young pair, debating and doodling in the corner of the tavern together: someone has to take care of kaveh because no one else will—not even kaveh himself. ]
no subject
alhaitham suddenly stops, stoops down, and pulls kaveh onto his back. then he wraps his arms around kaveh's thighs and picks him up with minimal effort.
just be happy he didn't princess carry you, kaveh. ]
There. Better.
no subject
[Whatever he was going to say gets lost, though, as Alhaitham scoops him up. He's too startled to resist, wrapping his arms loosely around Alhaitham's shoulders on instinct, but he squawks in protest and flails his legs awkwardly.]
Wh--Alhaitham! Put me down!
no subject
My car is at the other end of the street, and you could hardly keep yourself upright even with my help. This will be faster.
[ if kaveh sees alhaitham smiling, no he doesn't. ]
You were feeling nostalgic earlier. This should bring back plenty of memories for you.
no subject
[Someone's going to SEE THEM!!! ALHAITHAM!!!!
He flails a little more, squirming like he wants to wriggle out of Alhaitham's hold--but the world is a little more unsteady than usual, and even though he's gotten comfortable enough to pick fights with Alhaitham (despite being ever-conscious of his place in Alhaitham's home), he doesn't actually want to hurt him. Nor does he want Alhaitham to drop him on the ground.
He gives up his struggles to, instead, tighten his grip on Alhaitham and duck his head down, trying to hide his face in Alhaitham's shoulder. Fortunately (perhaps), he can't see Alhaitham's face this way, so he misses that smile; he also can't see much of anything else unless he angles his face to peek out. It's... unexpectedly soothing, if he's honest; it's much quieter out on the street than it was in the bar, and it's fairly dark if he keeps his head tucked away.
Alhaitham's not wrong, either. It does bring back memories--Kaveh didn't drink so heavily back in those days, and he's got the lingering memories to prove it. If he closes his eyes and breathes in, he can almost imagine that they're both five years younger, that Alhaitham is walking back to the dorms, where Kaveh will sprawl out on his floor and inevitably doze off, unwilling to drag himself back to a cold, empty house. He isn't so drunk as to have lost sight of their current truth, but he lets himself pretend, just for a moment. (The heartache that follows is almost worth it.)
But here and there, amidst the bits and pieces of nostalgia, are flashes of--something. Something he knows he doesn't recognize, but that feels so painfully familiar anyway. Flashes of Alhaitham, looking just as he did when they were younger, in green and white robes that he's never seen before. Warm lamplight and rich wood and golden cups filled with wine in front of them, and Alhaitham looking down at him, exasperated and fond in equal measure, as he'd leaned heavily into Alhaitham's side. These odd moments are rare, but they've happened enough since he'd moved in with Alhaitham that he isn't all that startled by them now.
They're probably just daydreams, after all. Manifestations of all the things Kaveh refuses to let himself think about. It's starting to get out of hand, though. Maybe he should join a help forum.]
You think you're so funny. [It's muttered into Alhaitham's neck, since that's where Kaveh's decided to hide his face.] You've really got everyone fooled.
[So many people think Alhaitham is a robot, but KAVEH KNOWS BETTER. He knows the truth of your little gremlin heart, Alhaitham!!!!]
no subject
Physically, it was simple to brush Kaveh off. Alhaitham knew that revealing his feelings would complicate the sole bit of human connection left in his life. He would lie there and remember his dreams about (his) drunken Kaveh lying over an unfamiliar green couch, arms open and inviting, with half-lidded eyes and a softened mouth. Kaveh would be wearing those colorful clothes and jingling trinkets, and Alhaitham could easily draw the quickest path to remove them. Alhaitham would see the line of sweat in the middle of Kaveh's chest, in the window of skin at the front of his shirt, and he would want to slowly gather it on his tongue before meeting their lips.
So young Alhaitham would sleep on the floor and be out getting coffee whenever Kaveh woke up.
Those dreams haven't left him yet, he's found. They've cropped up again now that they've eaten dinner and visited bars together. Flickers of dreams would pass in front of Alhaitham's eyes, revealing Kaveh as a glowing, mirthful, sometimes sleepy drunk. Each time the dream ended, Alhaitham's heart was left aching.
He prays another dream won't visit him before they make it to his car. He takes a small misstep when Kaveh speaks against his neck, his warm lips and breath skating over his skin. God dammit. They should both visit a health forum at this rate. ]
Fooled? [ He tilts his head towards his shoulder, his eyes briefly flickering towards Kaveh. ] How so?