[ kaveh suddenly resurrects the name from their younger days—one that alhaitham only accepted from his mouth alone. haitham. not al-haitham, the young eagle, its prefix alone separating him from the rest of the world. with kaveh, he was haitham, hayi, familiar and benign when others found him cold and intimidating. after their separation, alhaitham reconciled (not completely) with the fact that he would never hear his name that way again. no excited inflection, no exasperation, no tearful beseeching for his company. once again, he became alhaitham, now the scribe, the landlord, the once-acting grand sage. he was never anything else.
alhaitham is silent for a moment as he stares back into kaveh's desperately searching eyes, watching the minuscule way they dart over him and look for things that aren't there.
in their days at the akademiya, kaveh once lectured him on pigments. ("It's not 'just red'! Here. As your Senior, it's only right that I educate you on the importance of these distinctions. Let me get my paints—") as far as kaveh knew, these names were filed away in some untouched edge of alhaitham's mind, ignored for the sake of actually useful information. what kaveh does not know is that now, just as he did in those sun-bathed akademiya classrooms, alhaitham names every shade of red in kaveh's jeweled eyes. pale pink, vermillion, synopia, clay, wine. his own eyes soften. he knows what kaveh is asking, just like he knows what his answer is. he's known it since he was young, when he finally translated his feelings for kaveh into a single word that never left his mind.
why did alhaitham follow him here after so long? why didn't he just take his liquor from lambad and leave kaveh to drown in his self-made misery?
because he couldn't. because kaveh once called him haitham, with his voice as sweet and happy as a songbird's. because kaveh's eyes shine like rubies. because alhaitham wants to see him thrive again, bold and prismatic, inspiration and ideas crackling off of him like fireworks. because alhaitham never stopped being in love with him. ]
Because I won't idly stand by and watch you suffer alone, regardless of how you feel about me or our past friendship.
[ it's why he cuts to the quick. in a world where kaveh puts on airs in front of others, alhaitham is the only one who can force him to acknowledge his own frayed edges. it's not enough to trim and prune around the stem. the roots need to be examined and treated for rot, the soil replaced and fertilized. for so long, kaveh refused to to plant himself in different soil. that's where alhaitham came in, for no reason other than he wanted to. ]
[(Kaveh voice) No, no, you see, what he's actually saying is that he's plotting my downfall--
No okay. But it really is reflex, by now, to jump to conclusions. Because you enjoy watching me struggle against my self-made problems? ...But, no. Even before the game, he recalls Alhaitham rolling his eyes at that idea, brushing it off with sarcasm as the Traveler watched them with thinly veiled amusement. Because you want me to recover and get out of your hair, once and for all? That's a little better. It would align with what he knows of Alhaitham's wants, and it would even account for the kindness and warmth that Kaveh knows, despite his own complaints, Alhaitham possesses--that Alhaitham has shown him over the past few months, including tonight, right now. Alhaitham has helped him to his feet countless times, and though Kaveh struggles to understand why in some cases, this one seems to make sense.
He hesitates, though, stomach curling. It must be true, for all that Alhaitham is claiming their friendship--or whatever it is they were, before Kaveh started all this--matters to him. Perhaps even because of it. Kaveh's departure would mean financial stability, security, success, just as much as it would mean peace and quiet for Alhaitham. They would likely do much better with space between them, even if they've never been able to truly stay away from each other for long. But even approaching it from the kindest angle, Kaveh can't bring himself to say the words.
His reluctance is multi-faceted, for all that he hates to acknowledge it. He can never stop himself from pushing, from taunting, from daring Alhaitham to get it over with and tell him to leave, that he used up his welcome years ago--but for all that he waits on tenterhooks to hear it, he has no idea what he'd do if Alhaitham actually said it. It's why he always stops short, why he redirects when Alhaitham calls his bluff, saying things like, If you really can't stand me, when are you going to build yourself a mansion?
But beyond that... it just doesn't fit. Not with everything Alhaitham's said tonight. Not with the way Alhaitham's looking at him right now, expression so gentle that Kaveh's heart aches just to witness it. He holds his assumption in his head, but it feels like trying to jam the wrong keystone into an arch. It doesn't fit.
If he steps back, he can see that bridge of theirs. He can see the parapet and the pier, the spandrel wall and the abutment, even the charred remnants of their old foundation. And, he can see the outline of that final empty space, a taunting silhouette. None of the voussoirs in his hands feel right.
There are others. Countless others scattered between them, waiting to be picked up. To be tested, as Alhaitham put it--
A rational and efficient mind can still misinterpret and misunderstand the ways of the heart. Can you explain to me what love looks like? It comes in many different forms, doesn't it?
--but he cannot bring himself to reach for them. He doesn't dare.]
It would be best if he did. For all the warmth in Alhaitham's eyes, all that crystalline verdigris and rich sinopia, some part of Kaveh remains convinced that it would be safest if he ended this now. Just as he hasn't reached out to his mother since her wedding, just as he never argued when his schoolmates apologetically withdrew from their projects, just as he sometimes refuses to attend the social gatherings he loves so much. Time and time again, he's watched others walk away from him; through this, he's learned that sometimes, it's better if he does it first. Especially if it's someone he doesn't want to lose. So--let them forget about anything Vash did or didn't say and put the whole matter of them to rest. It's the surest way to protect what they have now, and a good architect prioritizes safety over all else.
His throat feels very dry. He never did make that tea.
Kaveh doesn't move. He watches Alhaitham, wary and--something. (He doesn't want to call it longing.)
[ alhaitham watches back—reading, deciphering, trying to translate the look in kaveh's eyes as anything but cautious, quiet hope. beneath alhaitham's placidity, he suddenly feels the beat of his blood through his body, converging and pounding beneath his ribs.
for all of kaveh's spiraling into the wending caverns of his thoughts and insecurities, he's anything but blind. the genius of kshahrewar, alhaitham can hear himself say, so sure of his own emotional intelligence, yet he refuses to see what's been in front of him all along. it makes sense that he would avoid the obvious, never once accepting the grace and goodwill of others unless he can repay it in full. it makes even more sense to deny any affections borne from their complicated situation, with all of its burned and broken and unresolved parts still scattered along the gulf. he can't blame this solely on kaveh when he's just as culpable of fostering confusion. he only realizes that now, when it could already be too late.
alhaitham has spent his lifetime buried in studies of signs and symbols. now, one misinterpretation could cost alhaitham everything all over again, and that vague sliver of doubt burrows in his conscience, makes him nervous. it reinforces how deeply he wants kaveh to stay with him, even at the cost of his own peace. briefly, he considers stepping backward, giving another vague and non-committal answer to guide them away, just as they'd done thousands of times before. kaveh becoming distant from him is vaguely better than kaveh disappearing from his life altogether.
but kaveh looks at him with longing. it pulls him in like gravity. so alhaitham's grip on kaveh's hand loosens, silently offering an escape, but he doesn't let go. he takes the final keystone in his hands and carefully slides it into place.
the press of alhaitham's lips on kaveh's is slow and light. it expects no response but the soft, still line of kaveh's mouth. it isn't an entreatment, like it hopes kaveh will realize that he reciprocates his feelings. the kiss is a study in semiotics—a wordless declaration of undeniable truth. this is the form of his love: peach slices on a plate, the curve of wine as it pours from bottle to glass, kaveh's shape beneath a blanket on the divan in the living room. it's words in a language known only to the two of them. it's days in the library, nights in the tavern, kaveh draped on his shoulder, kaveh guiding him by the arm, kaveh too close for comfort. it's their every argument and every devastation. it's alhaitham's worry that kaveh will be pulled away again, to another place that he can't reach. it's the reality that kaveh might not have come back to him at all.
it's kaveh's hand in his own, kaveh's lips pressed to his. it's always been kaveh, kaveh, kaveh. ]
the way I had a heart attack bc I almost accidentally deleted this wholeass tag 1/2
[Wouldn't it be funny if Kaveh really did reject him after all of this.
But a rejection would take more cognitive ability than Kaveh currently possesses. It would take thought, eloquence, and--most importantly--a deep and certain understanding of his own emotions, as well as Alhaitham's. Kaveh is not capable of any of that; he can't process anything beyond the static in his head, the rush of blood in his ears, the pounding of his heart.
Alhaitham does not move quickly. Kaveh watches as he shifts, as he closes the distance between them, and he knows that there is ample time to put a stop to this, should he desire to do so. He feels Alhaitham's grip on his hand loosen, and at the same time, he's absurdly, acutely aware of the trembling of his own hands, unsteady in a way that would be ruinous for his work. Alhaitham draws close, so close, close enough for Kaveh to smell the shampoo he uses, the same one he's used for years, that Kaveh likes to borrow when it seems like Alhaitham won't notice, telling himself it's just because it's gentle on his hair, not because it's a small piece of something familiar, a pathetic parody of an intimacy they never got the chance to have, all because neither of them can ever, ever keep their stupid mouths shut, because Kaveh is a cruel person at his core, only ever hurting the people he--
Never in a million years would Kaveh admit to imagining it, but Alhaitham's kiss is gentler than he thought it would be. Alhaitham has always been so stubborn, so unapologetic--and spoiled, quite honestly. He'd thought that this would be just the same: that Alhaitham would simply take what he wanted, self-assured in the results of whatever data he'd examined to determine that Kaveh would reciprocate, or perhaps too egocentric to care if he didn't. (Except he would, of course, because Kaveh only entertained such daydreams when he was either happy enough to imagine being unafraid of accepting Alhaitham's affection, or desperate enough to ignore the shame of pretending he was worthy of it.)
This, however, is so quintessentially Alhaitham that Kaveh immediately recognizes where his imagination went awry. Tender, steady, warm--Alhaitham is, and always has been, the embodiment of home. This is the true shape of that self-assuredness Kaveh pictured on his own; it is Alhaitham saying, with the calm certainty upon which he has built his life, This is who I am. This is how I feel. Everything else is out of my control, and I have made peace with it.
No, Kaveh does not reject him. He does not turn his head or push Alhaitham back. And in those long-distant fantasies, back when Kaveh was young and bright-eyed and too naive to recognize the pain of dreaming, he would always rest a hand on Alhaitham's face, would always trace the lines of Alhaitham's jaw or cheekbone back and around until he could tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of Alhaitham's neck; he would smile against Alhaitham's lips, would say there's you, like the foregone conclusion to the story they'd been writing together.]
[But that was then, and this is now, and the Kaveh of now reacts on pure, wildly illogical instinct--he takes Alhaitham's hand, still resting loosely on his, and turns it over to pinch the inside of his wrist.
[pinches his boob--no okay he doesn't do that. He does stare for a long moment, though, like he can't quite believe what he's seeing, let alone feeling.
He glances at Alhaitham's face again, searching. His own expression is wary, the same face he often makes when he can't understand--or refuses to consider--why Alhaitham has acted in an atypical manner.]
And you're... [He looks down at his hand again, then at the abandoned plate, then back at Alhaitham.] You're not--trying to make a fool out of me? Or waiting for me to embarrass myself, or planning to use this against me later...?
[(Kaveh voice) This is how I can still prove Alhaitham was replaced by a pod person
But Kaveh, for all his fake smiles and his convincing confidence, cannot conceal his heart in moments like this. He can't hide that underlying longing, that cautious hope--still there, despite his disbelief and accusations.
Alhaitham would not do those things. Even accounting for those odd behaviors, even if he conjures up the worst, most selfish, most diabolical version of Alhaitham he can think of, he can't genuinely picture an Alhaitham who would kiss him for any reason beyond genuinely wanting to. It's just difficult to trust--difficult to believe that even after seeing him at his absolute worst time and time again, Alhaitham might still want him the way Kaveh suspected (hoped) he once did.]
[ as always, alhaitham waits for however long kaveh needs him to. palm pressed flat over the back of kaveh's hand, he meets his confused, nervous looks with complete assuredness.
kaveh overthinks. he's done this since they were in the akademiya, and it only got worse as his luck fell to pieces. there may have been some progression made before the game took kaveh away from sumeru. where alhaitham once might have criticized kaveh for needlessly spiraling, alhaitham has learned to be more patient with him.
kaveh deserves that patience now more than ever. it's why alhaitham still doesn't expect kaveh to reciprocate despite all of the evidence he's gathered to the contrary. alhaitham can only brace himself for any outcome that comes next. even if kaveh loves him back, he may not want them to be together.
(but kaveh makes him want to hope. it stings to hear kaveh consider the notion that he'd be this cruel, but at the end of the day, kaveh is only afraid of being betrayed. he isn't rejecting alhaitham's feelings at all.)
he shakes his head lightly. ]
No, I'm not. You asked me a question. This is how I chose to answer it.
[Alhaitham is right; it's clear from theook on his face that Kaveh's suspicion isn't meant to be cruel. Kaveh is stubborn, proud, and slow to change his mind--especially when he's hurt or wracked with guilt, and both of those feelings linger even all these years later.
Their history is such a double-edged sword. It's what drove him to offer to do the housework, bewildered by Alhaitham's altruism and hating to impose--but it's also what has him rearranging Alhaitham's furniture however he pleases. Those golden days are the cause of his strongest doubts and worst accusations, and they're also the reason he spends money he doesn't have on coffee bean grinders he doesn't need and paintings for a house that isn't his.
It's why this is so difficult to believe, yet so utterly unsurprising at the same time. Because they disagree, they fight, they're capable of life-shattering vitriol, they will never see eye to eye on the most fundamental elements of their ideals--
--But there is none of that without them. Throughout the years, even when they only interacted on paper, there has always been them. For every fight that cracks their foundation, something else is there to fill it in with gold. Kaveh knows that, even if those poisonous, ever-present whispers in his head are striving to convince him otherwise.]
I--
[...
Abruptly, his eyes widen, and he urgently grabs Alhaitham's hand.]
Oh my god--we cannot tell Vash about this. He'll be insufferable.
[(you voice from a few tags ago) HE IS LITERALLY HOLDING YOUR HAND!!! KERMIT GUN.PNG]
Don't say it like that.
[THAT MAKES IT SOUND LIKE HE'S REJECTING ALHAITHAM FOR VASH!!! Who is frankly a much better person to fall in love with than either Alhaitham or Wolfwood or any of his other crush potentials but alas, here we are. The heart wants what it wants.
Specifically, right now, the heart is embarrassed and wants to bristle and grumble. His face is warm... he's too light-skinned for this hit to his dignity... HATEFUL]
And don't call it denial like it was absurd of me to believe you--[might have feelings for me despite it all no he can't say that or he'll shrivel up and die. LASHES OUT]--suddenly decided to join the rest of us mortals in the realm of emotional literacy?
[ they're going to argue while holding hands? they're going to argue while holding hands. ]
If we're talking about emotional literacy, I'd say you don't have much of a leg to stand on. Vash didn't need grand romantic gestures to deduce in a few days what's been obvious to you for some time now.
[The real travesty here is that Kaveh doesn't know enough about Trigun or about Team a:v:'s team power to point out that it not only took Vash until after Wolfwood died in canon but also four weeks and an attempt to make Shenwood real before he got his shit together]
Vash is a hundred and fifty years old! Of course he has advanced insight into even the most absurd of human behaviors.
[Such as asking someone you APPARENTLY have feelings for when he's going to move out of your house]
[ not as surprised as a person should be, since kaveh already told him that vash is a plant. he just didn't know he was an old plant. nts, ask vash about this later ]
And yet you chose not to believe this supposedly advanced insight.
Well, yes. He didn't know you. [Kaveh doesn't think he's being unreasonable or contradictory here, really; broad wisdom doesn't apply to every specific circumstance.] As a matter of fact, I still don't understand how he got that from anything I said, given that I wasn't exactly singing your praises whenever you came up.
[Alhaitham and Wolfwood are the same and Vash extrapolated, that's how. Yaoi math.
He tones down his grumbling a little, though, averting his gaze to look at their hands.]
And besides--I... well, you know. I didn't think we were going to make it out of there, so...
[So he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on it too much, unwilling to die with even more regrets than he already had. He couldn't afford to break, not when Ylfa and Haru were depending on him, not when he couldn't be sure Nahida--and thus, Teyvat--would be safe. Thinking about Alhaitham harboring feelings for him, about dying without getting the chance to speak, to know one way or the other--it would've been too much.]
alhaitham follows kaveh's eyes down to their hands. he's quiet for a moment before he gently reaffirms his hold on kaveh's fingers. ]
There was no sense in dwelling on conjecture at that point.
[ not when kaveh's life was dangling by a thread. the idea forms a lump in alhaitham's throat. it only subsides when he raises his eyes back to kaveh's again.
kaveh is alive. they're both here and they're both real, and that was their first kiss. alhaitham looks at kaveh the way he has hundreds of times since they met: with deep, abject fondness. ]
All the more reason not to leave any room for doubt. You still haven't given me a proper answer.
[If he really wanted to be pedantic, Kaveh thinks, he could point out that technically, technically, Alhaitham didn't answer him either. Not in words, at least, and isn't Kaveh still here? Aren't their fingers interlaced? Is this not a gesture for a gesture, speaking more clearly and honestly than either of them can ever manage to accomplish out loud?
But Alhaitham is looking at him, patient but clearly waiting. And for the first time, Kaveh notices--no. Kaveh allows himself to perceive the affection in his eyes, the gentle set of his mouth. (Of course he's noticed. How could he not notice? Alhaitham never looks at anyone this way. Only ever...)
His hand twitches, that old, reflexive urge to run flaring up in his chest. He doesn't deserve this. What has he ever done to earn Alhaitham's devotion? It would be so easy to slip into a lecture, to say something like: This is why socialization is so important. If you spent more time with other people, you would understand that I'm nothing special. Don't you want someone kinder? Someone who complements and completes you, rather than someone like me? It's not too late. He can still pull away, still make his case and try to convince Alhaitham that they're terrible for each other.
...But.
All his doubts and fears and confusion--none of them stem from a lack of interest or desire. He almost wishes they did. It would be so much easier if he simply didn't want this. But how in the world could that be?
Alhaitham is infuriating in a myriad of ways, yes, and Kaveh will never stop challenging his beliefs--but he's also brilliant, beautiful, and caring when he wants to be. Kaveh has watched him tear his opponents' arguments to shreds without ever batting an eyelash, and he's seen him doze off on the sofa with a book, warmed by the afternoon sun. He's seen the Alhaitham who cherishes his grandmother's library, and he's seen the Alhaitham who cuts his way through his enemies with efficiency and grace. The Alhaitham who steals his coffee right off of Kaveh's desk, then complains that it's too sweet--the Alhaitham who snaps at him for bending too far, so stubbornly oblivious to the necessity of connection and reputation in Kaveh's field--the Alhaitham who forces him to defend even his most innocuous views, who makes him forget his guilt and his shame and pushes him to feel alive--There is no world in which Kaveh doesn't love him.
When has he ever been able to change Alhaitham's mind anyway?
He's left his other hand on Alhaitham's chest all this time; that heartbeat, irrefutable proof of Alhaitham's humanity, pushing back against the dark thoughts in Kaveh's head with each steady pulse. He withdraws now, but only to reach for Alhaitham's free hand, tentatively wrapping his fingers around it. Double handholding.]
It would be awfully cruel of me to inflict you on someone else. [A little bit more snark--a shield for the vulnerability that comes after, though he tries to keep his tone even, despite the way he keeps his gaze fixed on their hands.] And I suppose you wouldn't listen if I said you ought to find someone who treats you better than I do.
[It's not really a question. Alhaitham barely has people he considers friends, and even that is a major change from their Akademiya days. A small part of Kaveh worries that his presence has interfered with Alhaitham's ability to find someone else--but even as he thinks it, he can hear Alhaitham's rebuttal in his head. We barely saw each other in person for years after our falling out. I had ample opportunity to meet other people, yet here we are. Explain that, senior Kaveh.
Still. Taking what he wants, even when it's right here, when it's being pressed insistently into his hands--it's frightening. Chasing his dreams has never ended well for him before, after all.
But that hasn't stopped him from doing it, either. And that's why he's still here, fingers curled around Alhaitham's, valiantly ignoring the warmth of his own face and the pounding of his own heart.]
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no subject
alhaitham is silent for a moment as he stares back into kaveh's desperately searching eyes, watching the minuscule way they dart over him and look for things that aren't there.
in their days at the akademiya, kaveh once lectured him on pigments. ("It's not 'just red'! Here. As your Senior, it's only right that I educate you on the importance of these distinctions. Let me get my paints—") as far as kaveh knew, these names were filed away in some untouched edge of alhaitham's mind, ignored for the sake of actually useful information. what kaveh does not know is that now, just as he did in those sun-bathed akademiya classrooms, alhaitham names every shade of red in kaveh's jeweled eyes. pale pink, vermillion, synopia, clay, wine. his own eyes soften. he knows what kaveh is asking, just like he knows what his answer is. he's known it since he was young, when he finally translated his feelings for kaveh into a single word that never left his mind.
why did alhaitham follow him here after so long? why didn't he just take his liquor from lambad and leave kaveh to drown in his self-made misery?
because he couldn't. because kaveh once called him haitham, with his voice as sweet and happy as a songbird's. because kaveh's eyes shine like rubies. because alhaitham wants to see him thrive again, bold and prismatic, inspiration and ideas crackling off of him like fireworks. because alhaitham never stopped being in love with him. ]
Because I won't idly stand by and watch you suffer alone, regardless of how you feel about me or our past friendship.
[ it's why he cuts to the quick. in a world where kaveh puts on airs in front of others, alhaitham is the only one who can force him to acknowledge his own frayed edges. it's not enough to trim and prune around the stem. the roots need to be examined and treated for rot, the soil replaced and fertilized. for so long, kaveh refused to to plant himself in different soil. that's where alhaitham came in, for no reason other than he wanted to. ]
1/2
No okay. But it really is reflex, by now, to jump to conclusions. Because you enjoy watching me struggle against my self-made problems? ...But, no. Even before the game, he recalls Alhaitham rolling his eyes at that idea, brushing it off with sarcasm as the Traveler watched them with thinly veiled amusement. Because you want me to recover and get out of your hair, once and for all? That's a little better. It would align with what he knows of Alhaitham's wants, and it would even account for the kindness and warmth that Kaveh knows, despite his own complaints, Alhaitham possesses--that Alhaitham has shown him over the past few months, including tonight, right now. Alhaitham has helped him to his feet countless times, and though Kaveh struggles to understand why in some cases, this one seems to make sense.
He hesitates, though, stomach curling. It must be true, for all that Alhaitham is claiming their friendship--or whatever it is they were, before Kaveh started all this--matters to him. Perhaps even because of it. Kaveh's departure would mean financial stability, security, success, just as much as it would mean peace and quiet for Alhaitham. They would likely do much better with space between them, even if they've never been able to truly stay away from each other for long. But even approaching it from the kindest angle, Kaveh can't bring himself to say the words.
His reluctance is multi-faceted, for all that he hates to acknowledge it. He can never stop himself from pushing, from taunting, from daring Alhaitham to get it over with and tell him to leave, that he used up his welcome years ago--but for all that he waits on tenterhooks to hear it, he has no idea what he'd do if Alhaitham actually said it. It's why he always stops short, why he redirects when Alhaitham calls his bluff, saying things like, If you really can't stand me, when are you going to build yourself a mansion?
But beyond that... it just doesn't fit. Not with everything Alhaitham's said tonight. Not with the way Alhaitham's looking at him right now, expression so gentle that Kaveh's heart aches just to witness it. He holds his assumption in his head, but it feels like trying to jam the wrong keystone into an arch. It doesn't fit.
If he steps back, he can see that bridge of theirs. He can see the parapet and the pier, the spandrel wall and the abutment, even the charred remnants of their old foundation. And, he can see the outline of that final empty space, a taunting silhouette. None of the voussoirs in his hands feel right.
There are others. Countless others scattered between them, waiting to be picked up. To be tested, as Alhaitham put it--
A rational and efficient mind can still misinterpret and misunderstand the ways of the heart. Can you explain to me what love looks like? It comes in many different forms, doesn't it?
--but he cannot bring himself to reach for them. He doesn't dare.]
2/2
It would be best if he did. For all the warmth in Alhaitham's eyes, all that crystalline verdigris and rich sinopia, some part of Kaveh remains convinced that it would be safest if he ended this now. Just as he hasn't reached out to his mother since her wedding, just as he never argued when his schoolmates apologetically withdrew from their projects, just as he sometimes refuses to attend the social gatherings he loves so much. Time and time again, he's watched others walk away from him; through this, he's learned that sometimes, it's better if he does it first. Especially if it's someone he doesn't want to lose. So--let them forget about anything Vash did or didn't say and put the whole matter of them to rest. It's the surest way to protect what they have now, and a good architect prioritizes safety over all else.
His throat feels very dry. He never did make that tea.
Kaveh doesn't move. He watches Alhaitham, wary and--something. (He doesn't want to call it longing.)
Softly:]
...Why?
no subject
for all of kaveh's spiraling into the wending caverns of his thoughts and insecurities, he's anything but blind. the genius of kshahrewar, alhaitham can hear himself say, so sure of his own emotional intelligence, yet he refuses to see what's been in front of him all along. it makes sense that he would avoid the obvious, never once accepting the grace and goodwill of others unless he can repay it in full. it makes even more sense to deny any affections borne from their complicated situation, with all of its burned and broken and unresolved parts still scattered along the gulf. he can't blame this solely on kaveh when he's just as culpable of fostering confusion. he only realizes that now, when it could already be too late.
alhaitham has spent his lifetime buried in studies of signs and symbols. now, one misinterpretation could cost alhaitham everything all over again, and that vague sliver of doubt burrows in his conscience, makes him nervous. it reinforces how deeply he wants kaveh to stay with him, even at the cost of his own peace. briefly, he considers stepping backward, giving another vague and non-committal answer to guide them away, just as they'd done thousands of times before. kaveh becoming distant from him is vaguely better than kaveh disappearing from his life altogether.
but kaveh looks at him with longing. it pulls him in like gravity. so alhaitham's grip on kaveh's hand loosens, silently offering an escape, but he doesn't let go. he takes the final keystone in his hands and carefully slides it into place.
the press of alhaitham's lips on kaveh's is slow and light. it expects no response but the soft, still line of kaveh's mouth. it isn't an entreatment, like it hopes kaveh will realize that he reciprocates his feelings. the kiss is a study in semiotics—a wordless declaration of undeniable truth. this is the form of his love: peach slices on a plate, the curve of wine as it pours from bottle to glass, kaveh's shape beneath a blanket on the divan in the living room. it's words in a language known only to the two of them. it's days in the library, nights in the tavern, kaveh draped on his shoulder, kaveh guiding him by the arm, kaveh too close for comfort. it's their every argument and every devastation. it's alhaitham's worry that kaveh will be pulled away again, to another place that he can't reach. it's the reality that kaveh might not have come back to him at all.
it's kaveh's hand in his own, kaveh's lips pressed to his. it's always been kaveh, kaveh, kaveh. ]
the way I had a heart attack bc I almost accidentally deleted this wholeass tag 1/2
But a rejection would take more cognitive ability than Kaveh currently possesses. It would take thought, eloquence, and--most importantly--a deep and certain understanding of his own emotions, as well as Alhaitham's. Kaveh is not capable of any of that; he can't process anything beyond the static in his head, the rush of blood in his ears, the pounding of his heart.
Alhaitham does not move quickly. Kaveh watches as he shifts, as he closes the distance between them, and he knows that there is ample time to put a stop to this, should he desire to do so. He feels Alhaitham's grip on his hand loosen, and at the same time, he's absurdly, acutely aware of the trembling of his own hands, unsteady in a way that would be ruinous for his work. Alhaitham draws close, so close, close enough for Kaveh to smell the shampoo he uses, the same one he's used for years, that Kaveh likes to borrow when it seems like Alhaitham won't notice, telling himself it's just because it's gentle on his hair, not because it's a small piece of something familiar, a pathetic parody of an intimacy they never got the chance to have, all because neither of them can ever, ever keep their stupid mouths shut, because Kaveh is a cruel person at his core, only ever hurting the people he--
Never in a million years would Kaveh admit to imagining it, but Alhaitham's kiss is gentler than he thought it would be. Alhaitham has always been so stubborn, so unapologetic--and spoiled, quite honestly. He'd thought that this would be just the same: that Alhaitham would simply take what he wanted, self-assured in the results of whatever data he'd examined to determine that Kaveh would reciprocate, or perhaps too egocentric to care if he didn't. (Except he would, of course, because Kaveh only entertained such daydreams when he was either happy enough to imagine being unafraid of accepting Alhaitham's affection, or desperate enough to ignore the shame of pretending he was worthy of it.)
This, however, is so quintessentially Alhaitham that Kaveh immediately recognizes where his imagination went awry. Tender, steady, warm--Alhaitham is, and always has been, the embodiment of home. This is the true shape of that self-assuredness Kaveh pictured on his own; it is Alhaitham saying, with the calm certainty upon which he has built his life, This is who I am. This is how I feel. Everything else is out of my control, and I have made peace with it.
No, Kaveh does not reject him. He does not turn his head or push Alhaitham back. And in those long-distant fantasies, back when Kaveh was young and bright-eyed and too naive to recognize the pain of dreaming, he would always rest a hand on Alhaitham's face, would always trace the lines of Alhaitham's jaw or cheekbone back and around until he could tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of Alhaitham's neck; he would smile against Alhaitham's lips, would say there's you, like the foregone conclusion to the story they'd been writing together.]
2/2
Hard.]
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by reflex, alhaitham's hand flinches away. he sits back in his chair, darts his eyes to his poor wrist, and then looks flatly at kaveh. ]
You have two hands. You could have just pushed me.
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That's not-- [what I was trying to do] --you... you're actually real? For certain?
[This is, of course, a very silly question--but it is not the first time he's asked it since coming back. Sometimes time loops fuck you up real bad!!
Granted, there's only a small part of that lingering trauma here. Mostly he's just (FLUSTERED STATIC NOISES)]
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Yes, I'm real. You just felt that for yourself.
[ at least kaveh's answer isn't discouraging. so he doesn't feel bad about carefully picking up kaveh's hand and pressing it over his rabbiting heart.
congrats on touching boob. ]
This should be proof enough.
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He glances at Alhaitham's face again, searching. His own expression is wary, the same face he often makes when he can't understand--or refuses to consider--why Alhaitham has acted in an atypical manner.]
And you're... [He looks down at his hand again, then at the abandoned plate, then back at Alhaitham.] You're not--trying to make a fool out of me? Or waiting for me to embarrass myself, or planning to use this against me later...?
[(Kaveh voice) This is how I can still prove Alhaitham was replaced by a pod person
But Kaveh, for all his fake smiles and his convincing confidence, cannot conceal his heart in moments like this. He can't hide that underlying longing, that cautious hope--still there, despite his disbelief and accusations.
Alhaitham would not do those things. Even accounting for those odd behaviors, even if he conjures up the worst, most selfish, most diabolical version of Alhaitham he can think of, he can't genuinely picture an Alhaitham who would kiss him for any reason beyond genuinely wanting to. It's just difficult to trust--difficult to believe that even after seeing him at his absolute worst time and time again, Alhaitham might still want him the way Kaveh suspected (hoped) he once did.]
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kaveh overthinks. he's done this since they were in the akademiya, and it only got worse as his luck fell to pieces. there may have been some progression made before the game took kaveh away from sumeru. where alhaitham once might have criticized kaveh for needlessly spiraling, alhaitham has learned to be more patient with him.
kaveh deserves that patience now more than ever. it's why alhaitham still doesn't expect kaveh to reciprocate despite all of the evidence he's gathered to the contrary. alhaitham can only brace himself for any outcome that comes next. even if kaveh loves him back, he may not want them to be together.
(but kaveh makes him want to hope. it stings to hear kaveh consider the notion that he'd be this cruel, but at the end of the day, kaveh is only afraid of being betrayed. he isn't rejecting alhaitham's feelings at all.)
he shakes his head lightly. ]
No, I'm not. You asked me a question. This is how I chose to answer it.
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Their history is such a double-edged sword. It's what drove him to offer to do the housework, bewildered by Alhaitham's altruism and hating to impose--but it's also what has him rearranging Alhaitham's furniture however he pleases. Those golden days are the cause of his strongest doubts and worst accusations, and they're also the reason he spends money he doesn't have on coffee bean grinders he doesn't need and paintings for a house that isn't his.
It's why this is so difficult to believe, yet so utterly unsurprising at the same time. Because they disagree, they fight, they're capable of life-shattering vitriol, they will never see eye to eye on the most fundamental elements of their ideals--
--But there is none of that without them. Throughout the years, even when they only interacted on paper, there has always been them. For every fight that cracks their foundation, something else is there to fill it in with gold. Kaveh knows that, even if those poisonous, ever-present whispers in his head are striving to convince him otherwise.]
I--
[...
Abruptly, his eyes widen, and he urgently grabs Alhaitham's hand.]
Oh my god--we cannot tell Vash about this. He'll be insufferable.
[IS THAT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW, KAVEH]
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I'm amazed that you still found a way to be preoccupied with yourself after someone laid their feelings bare to you moments ago.
[ at least he's not?? being rejected?? does your confession being ignored for a sec count as a rejection ]
Perhaps we should pretend this never happened.
[ (he doesn't mean it) ]
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You-- that's--!
[LOOK... LISTEN... HUFFS IN EMBARRASSED AGITATION]
You know... I just thought... it was obvious... what my answer was... AND BESIDES, you started it by asking about all this, it's relevant!
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... holds kaveh's hand just a little. ]
You know better than to leave things to mere interpretation, Senior Kaveh.
I SAW THAT HEI
[YOU HEARD HIM!!! DON'T BE A BRAT]
HEI? WHAT DID YOU DO
Yes, I'm "purposely" telling you to clarify your response before speaking about someone else. Should I be doing otherwise?
[ but fine he'll roll with it ]
Is this what you were so in denial about?
hei is such a creature
Don't say it like that.
[THAT MAKES IT SOUND LIKE HE'S REJECTING ALHAITHAM FOR VASH!!! Who is frankly a much better person to fall in love with than either Alhaitham or Wolfwood or any of his other crush potentials but alas, here we are. The heart wants what it wants.
Specifically, right now, the heart is embarrassed and wants to bristle and grumble. His face is warm... he's too light-skinned for this hit to his dignity... HATEFUL]
And don't call it denial like it was absurd of me to believe you--[might have feelings for me despite it all no he can't say that or he'll shrivel up and die. LASHES OUT]--suddenly decided to join the rest of us mortals in the realm of emotional literacy?
[Kaveh you are still holding his hand]
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If we're talking about emotional literacy, I'd say you don't have much of a leg to stand on. Vash didn't need grand romantic gestures to deduce in a few days what's been obvious to you for some time now.
[ casually admits to crushing for years ]
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he figures that this happened while they visited ]
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Vash is a hundred and fifty years old! Of course he has advanced insight into even the most absurd of human behaviors.
[Such as asking someone you APPARENTLY have feelings for when he's going to move out of your house]
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Really? A hundred and fifty years old. Huh.
[ not as surprised as a person should be, since kaveh already told him that vash is a plant. he just didn't know he was an old plant. nts, ask vash about this later ]
And yet you chose not to believe this supposedly advanced insight.
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[Alhaitham and Wolfwood are the same and Vash extrapolated, that's how. Yaoi math.
He tones down his grumbling a little, though, averting his gaze to look at their hands.]
And besides--I... well, you know. I didn't think we were going to make it out of there, so...
[So he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on it too much, unwilling to die with even more regrets than he already had. He couldn't afford to break, not when Ylfa and Haru were depending on him, not when he couldn't be sure Nahida--and thus, Teyvat--would be safe. Thinking about Alhaitham harboring feelings for him, about dying without getting the chance to speak, to know one way or the other--it would've been too much.]
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alhaitham follows kaveh's eyes down to their hands. he's quiet for a moment before he gently reaffirms his hold on kaveh's fingers. ]
There was no sense in dwelling on conjecture at that point.
[ not when kaveh's life was dangling by a thread. the idea forms a lump in alhaitham's throat. it only subsides when he raises his eyes back to kaveh's again.
kaveh is alive. they're both here and they're both real, and that was their first kiss. alhaitham looks at kaveh the way he has hundreds of times since they met: with deep, abject fondness. ]
All the more reason not to leave any room for doubt. You still haven't given me a proper answer.
[ he's not letting it go, sorry. ]
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But Alhaitham is looking at him, patient but clearly waiting. And for the first time, Kaveh notices--no. Kaveh allows himself to perceive the affection in his eyes, the gentle set of his mouth. (Of course he's noticed. How could he not notice? Alhaitham never looks at anyone this way. Only ever...)
His hand twitches, that old, reflexive urge to run flaring up in his chest. He doesn't deserve this. What has he ever done to earn Alhaitham's devotion? It would be so easy to slip into a lecture, to say something like: This is why socialization is so important. If you spent more time with other people, you would understand that I'm nothing special. Don't you want someone kinder? Someone who complements and completes you, rather than someone like me? It's not too late. He can still pull away, still make his case and try to convince Alhaitham that they're terrible for each other.
...But.
All his doubts and fears and confusion--none of them stem from a lack of interest or desire. He almost wishes they did. It would be so much easier if he simply didn't want this. But how in the world could that be?
Alhaitham is infuriating in a myriad of ways, yes, and Kaveh will never stop challenging his beliefs--but he's also brilliant, beautiful, and caring when he wants to be. Kaveh has watched him tear his opponents' arguments to shreds without ever batting an eyelash, and he's seen him doze off on the sofa with a book, warmed by the afternoon sun. He's seen the Alhaitham who cherishes his grandmother's library, and he's seen the Alhaitham who cuts his way through his enemies with efficiency and grace. The Alhaitham who steals his coffee right off of Kaveh's desk, then complains that it's too sweet--the Alhaitham who snaps at him for bending too far, so stubbornly oblivious to the necessity of connection and reputation in Kaveh's field--the Alhaitham who forces him to defend even his most innocuous views, who makes him forget his guilt and his shame and pushes him to feel alive--There is no world in which Kaveh doesn't love him.
When has he ever been able to change Alhaitham's mind anyway?
He's left his other hand on Alhaitham's chest all this time; that heartbeat, irrefutable proof of Alhaitham's humanity, pushing back against the dark thoughts in Kaveh's head with each steady pulse. He withdraws now, but only to reach for Alhaitham's free hand, tentatively wrapping his fingers around it. Double handholding.]
It would be awfully cruel of me to inflict you on someone else. [A little bit more snark--a shield for the vulnerability that comes after, though he tries to keep his tone even, despite the way he keeps his gaze fixed on their hands.] And I suppose you wouldn't listen if I said you ought to find someone who treats you better than I do.
[It's not really a question. Alhaitham barely has people he considers friends, and even that is a major change from their Akademiya days. A small part of Kaveh worries that his presence has interfered with Alhaitham's ability to find someone else--but even as he thinks it, he can hear Alhaitham's rebuttal in his head. We barely saw each other in person for years after our falling out. I had ample opportunity to meet other people, yet here we are. Explain that, senior Kaveh.
Still. Taking what he wants, even when it's right here, when it's being pressed insistently into his hands--it's frightening. Chasing his dreams has never ended well for him before, after all.
But that hasn't stopped him from doing it, either. And that's why he's still here, fingers curled around Alhaitham's, valiantly ignoring the warmth of his own face and the pounding of his own heart.]
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