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.]
[ alhaitham is patient. with his tender gaze, he watches and waits as that brilliant mind cycles through emotions and memories long since buried. there's no flicker of doubt or worry when kaveh pulls his hand away. alhaitham simply lets it go, and sure enough, kaveh reaches for him again. double handholding! gay af.
the snark makes his smile widen, though it quickly fades away. what comes after is exactly what alhaitham expected to hear.
kaveh's completely right. there's no real need for kaveh to clarify himself when their intentions and affections were laid out so plainly. the simple fact is that alhaitham: 1) is an asshole, and 2) wants kaveh to admit to himself that he is loved and cared for, and has been for as long as they've known each other. alhaitham is still convinced that kaveh knew about his feelings somewhere deep in his conscience. he simply avoided the truth for his own reasons.
it's up to kaveh to resolve his issues with guilt and insecurity and self-flagellation. alhaitham has no doubt that it's possible, but that cure is ultimately, frustratingly out of his hands. until then, with the newfound freedom to outwardly express his affections, alhaitham can only support him as best he can. (how well he does that is. subjective. at least he's trying to be better.)
he runs his thumb over a white scar across kaveh's knuckle. he knows it's there without having to look at it. kaveh isn't the only one who's studied the others' hands, mapping out their every mark and memorizing them like a language. who could look away from the hands of an artist? who could look away from kaveh at all, especially when he blushes like this? ]
Based on your complaints while we've been living together, I could say the same to you. [ if anything, kaveh complains about alhaitham's treatment of him WAY more often than the reverse. he still has feelings for alhaitham regardless. ] It's only natural that we would treat each other poorly after so many years of conflict. I accepted the differences in our temperaments long ago. I can handle you just fine.
[ he lifts a set of their joined hands and presses a kiss over the back of kaveh's. driving the point home. ]
I engaged with you at Lambad's because you bring something to my life that no other person can provide. I've known this since we first met, and it holds true even now.
[ you're kind enough as it is, he would say if he could. in some ways, i want you to be less kind and i prefer when you aren't. you are that person who complements and completes me. there is nowhere i'd rather go than wherever you are. ]
[As Alhaitham speaks, Kaveh's gaze flicks away again. He presses his lips together, holding back the myriad of thoughts that swirl through his mind. If he lets himself interrupt, he'll give in to the urge to shy away from all of this, and that's not fair. In baring his heart, Alhaitham's done what Kaveh himself has never been brave enough to do. If their roles were reversed and Alhaitham had left him waiting, Kaveh would've fled by now, just as he'd done with Wolfwood--desperate to avoid inevitable rejection. Alhaitham deserves his honesty, regardless of how messy it is.
(Not that Alhaitham would leave him waiting either way, Kaveh thinks. Such is the result of a constant, thorough examination of one's own heart. He isn't like Kaveh, who rarely knows what he wants, who sabotages himself even when he does.)
He breathes unsteadily when Alhaitham finishes his piece, letting the words sit between them for a moment. He feels the brush of Alhaitham's lips against the back of his hand, uncovered at this late hour, and feels his own face flush again.
Is it selfish to take what he wants? To have this after wanting it for so long, after accepting that it was lost forever? Maybe. But for once, he thinks it would be more selfish to deny himself. To deny them both.]
All these pretty words, Haravatat, and yet you still present me with circumspect logic instead of simply telling me how you feel about me. [For all this talk of what "value" Kaveh's presence provides, Alhaitham has still only said, I don't actually hate you. If Kaveh didn't know him so well, didn't know just how significant it is for Alhaitham to praise him the way he has, to sit here and comfort him, let alone kiss him--
--But he does know. He is, perhaps, the only person alive who can read between the lines, who can speak Alhaitham's language. Maybe that's the whole point.] As your senior, I suppose it's my responsibility to set a good example.
[Which he has not done even a little at any point during their relationship, he thinks--but. Well. It's never too late to start.
Finally, he meets Alhaitham's gaze again. As he does, he shifts his hands, lacing his fingers through Alhaitham's.]
I hate living here, Alhaitham. [Excellent start, very romantic.] I hate seeing that dusty old box taking up space on your shelves, I hate seeing the exhaustion on your face when I've kept you up at night, I hate opening the cupboards and seeing food I couldn't help you buy. [He flexes his fingers, nervous.] If it were anyone else, I wouldn't be able to stand it. But it's... bearable, because it's you.
The way I was that day at the tavern--I never wanted anyone to see me like that. Who would? But then you asked after me, and... it felt as though that was exactly what I'd been waiting for all that time. Like I'd been caught in stasis, and only once you sat down across from me did time begin to move again.
And after the game, after Nahida and I returned... I couldn't quite believe we were home. Do you know what it was that finally swayed me? [...] It was your eyes. No one there had eyes like yours. I saw you, and I knew we were truly back, and that we--that I was safe. [His smile is tentative, self-deprecating.] I don't think you have any idea how many times, how many ways you've saved me. And I hate it, I can't stand being that person, but--somehow, it's alright when it's you.
[It doesn't make him feel any less pathetic, not really. He doesn't want to be someone in need of constant saving, even if he would never judge anyone else for needing the very same. He has no intention of stopping his efforts to stand on his own two feet again. But if Alhaitham, only Alhaitham, is the hand on his back keeping him balanced... it's a steady warmth, not a heavy brand.
His expression shifts, then, into something more fond--gently, he extracts one hand, reaching up to brush Alhaitham's bangs out of his face.]
That's not to say you don't drive me absolutely mad. I know you do it on purpose at least half the time, don't think I don't. You are a spoiled little egoist brat who has somehow managed to fool half the city into believing you've evolved beyond human limitations. [WHAT KIND OF LOVE CONFESSION IS THIS. Ridiculously, Kaveh is clearly more comfortable now than he was a moment ago; he lets his hand fall to rest on Alhaitham's jaw, brushing his thumb over Alhaitham's cheekbone.] But I've always trusted that you know I wouldn't engage in your nonsense if I didn't want to.
[His smile fades, then, and he drops his gaze. Tension creeps back into his frame with his silence, but then he looks back up, forcing himself to look Alhaitham in the eye again.]
But I haven't always trusted you in the ways that matter. And for that I am sorry, truly. Yet, I--I can't promise that I always will from here on out. I wish that I could, I really do. But even you can't deny that we are cruel to each other at times. If we were capable of changing that, I believe we would have done so long ago.
[Old wounds that healed poorly, impulsive words and actions guided by clashing ideologies--these are undeniable parts of what makes them them. Kaveh is inclined to bear more of the burden of guilt than Alhaitham, knowing full well that so many of the instances he speaks of now are because of him in some way--but if there's anything Kaveh is willing to do for himself, it's this: acknowledging that Alhaitham can, and has, hurt him. That he has the power to do so again in the future, and probably will, because Kaveh cares far too much about Alhaitham's opinions for someone who refuses to change.
He hesitates again--but he started this a certain way, and Alhaitham would never let it go if he failed to follow through on his claims now of all times. So.]
...I can't say I don't believe you should find someone with whom such things would not be a concern. [Someone less fragile, less volatile, less... everything that led to Kaveh being where he is in life right now.] Goodness knows you've got a line out the door of people willing to fight with you over this or that, and even you must have some idea of how attractive you are. [A flicker of a smile returns, then--a brief attempt at levity, even though it's true.] But it would take a stronger man than me to walk away from the person he loves, so I can only hope you don't mind this weakness.
Edited (Just fixing a typo ignore me) 2023-10-27 05:27 (UTC)
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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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the snark makes his smile widen, though it quickly fades away. what comes after is exactly what alhaitham expected to hear.
kaveh's completely right. there's no real need for kaveh to clarify himself when their intentions and affections were laid out so plainly. the simple fact is that alhaitham: 1) is an asshole, and 2) wants kaveh to admit to himself that he is loved and cared for, and has been for as long as they've known each other. alhaitham is still convinced that kaveh knew about his feelings somewhere deep in his conscience. he simply avoided the truth for his own reasons.
it's up to kaveh to resolve his issues with guilt and insecurity and self-flagellation. alhaitham has no doubt that it's possible, but that cure is ultimately, frustratingly out of his hands. until then, with the newfound freedom to outwardly express his affections, alhaitham can only support him as best he can. (how well he does that is. subjective. at least he's trying to be better.)
he runs his thumb over a white scar across kaveh's knuckle. he knows it's there without having to look at it. kaveh isn't the only one who's studied the others' hands, mapping out their every mark and memorizing them like a language. who could look away from the hands of an artist? who could look away from kaveh at all, especially when he blushes like this? ]
Based on your complaints while we've been living together, I could say the same to you. [ if anything, kaveh complains about alhaitham's treatment of him WAY more often than the reverse. he still has feelings for alhaitham regardless. ] It's only natural that we would treat each other poorly after so many years of conflict. I accepted the differences in our temperaments long ago. I can handle you just fine.
[ he lifts a set of their joined hands and presses a kiss over the back of kaveh's. driving the point home. ]
I engaged with you at Lambad's because you bring something to my life that no other person can provide. I've known this since we first met, and it holds true even now.
[ you're kind enough as it is, he would say if he could. in some ways, i want you to be less kind and i prefer when you aren't. you are that person who complements and completes me. there is nowhere i'd rather go than wherever you are. ]
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(Not that Alhaitham would leave him waiting either way, Kaveh thinks. Such is the result of a constant, thorough examination of one's own heart. He isn't like Kaveh, who rarely knows what he wants, who sabotages himself even when he does.)
He breathes unsteadily when Alhaitham finishes his piece, letting the words sit between them for a moment. He feels the brush of Alhaitham's lips against the back of his hand, uncovered at this late hour, and feels his own face flush again.
Is it selfish to take what he wants? To have this after wanting it for so long, after accepting that it was lost forever? Maybe. But for once, he thinks it would be more selfish to deny himself. To deny them both.]
All these pretty words, Haravatat, and yet you still present me with circumspect logic instead of simply telling me how you feel about me. [For all this talk of what "value" Kaveh's presence provides, Alhaitham has still only said, I don't actually hate you. If Kaveh didn't know him so well, didn't know just how significant it is for Alhaitham to praise him the way he has, to sit here and comfort him, let alone kiss him--
--But he does know. He is, perhaps, the only person alive who can read between the lines, who can speak Alhaitham's language. Maybe that's the whole point.] As your senior, I suppose it's my responsibility to set a good example.
[Which he has not done even a little at any point during their relationship, he thinks--but. Well. It's never too late to start.
Finally, he meets Alhaitham's gaze again. As he does, he shifts his hands, lacing his fingers through Alhaitham's.]
I hate living here, Alhaitham. [Excellent start, very romantic.] I hate seeing that dusty old box taking up space on your shelves, I hate seeing the exhaustion on your face when I've kept you up at night, I hate opening the cupboards and seeing food I couldn't help you buy. [He flexes his fingers, nervous.] If it were anyone else, I wouldn't be able to stand it. But it's... bearable, because it's you.
The way I was that day at the tavern--I never wanted anyone to see me like that. Who would? But then you asked after me, and... it felt as though that was exactly what I'd been waiting for all that time. Like I'd been caught in stasis, and only once you sat down across from me did time begin to move again.
And after the game, after Nahida and I returned... I couldn't quite believe we were home. Do you know what it was that finally swayed me? [...] It was your eyes. No one there had eyes like yours. I saw you, and I knew we were truly back, and that we--that I was safe. [His smile is tentative, self-deprecating.] I don't think you have any idea how many times, how many ways you've saved me. And I hate it, I can't stand being that person, but--somehow, it's alright when it's you.
[It doesn't make him feel any less pathetic, not really. He doesn't want to be someone in need of constant saving, even if he would never judge anyone else for needing the very same. He has no intention of stopping his efforts to stand on his own two feet again. But if Alhaitham, only Alhaitham, is the hand on his back keeping him balanced... it's a steady warmth, not a heavy brand.
His expression shifts, then, into something more fond--gently, he extracts one hand, reaching up to brush Alhaitham's bangs out of his face.]
That's not to say you don't drive me absolutely mad. I know you do it on purpose at least half the time, don't think I don't. You are a spoiled little egoist brat who has somehow managed to fool half the city into believing you've evolved beyond human limitations. [WHAT KIND OF LOVE CONFESSION IS THIS. Ridiculously, Kaveh is clearly more comfortable now than he was a moment ago; he lets his hand fall to rest on Alhaitham's jaw, brushing his thumb over Alhaitham's cheekbone.] But I've always trusted that you know I wouldn't engage in your nonsense if I didn't want to.
[His smile fades, then, and he drops his gaze. Tension creeps back into his frame with his silence, but then he looks back up, forcing himself to look Alhaitham in the eye again.]
But I haven't always trusted you in the ways that matter. And for that I am sorry, truly. Yet, I--I can't promise that I always will from here on out. I wish that I could, I really do. But even you can't deny that we are cruel to each other at times. If we were capable of changing that, I believe we would have done so long ago.
[Old wounds that healed poorly, impulsive words and actions guided by clashing ideologies--these are undeniable parts of what makes them them. Kaveh is inclined to bear more of the burden of guilt than Alhaitham, knowing full well that so many of the instances he speaks of now are because of him in some way--but if there's anything Kaveh is willing to do for himself, it's this: acknowledging that Alhaitham can, and has, hurt him. That he has the power to do so again in the future, and probably will, because Kaveh cares far too much about Alhaitham's opinions for someone who refuses to change.
He hesitates again--but he started this a certain way, and Alhaitham would never let it go if he failed to follow through on his claims now of all times. So.]
...I can't say I don't believe you should find someone with whom such things would not be a concern. [Someone less fragile, less volatile, less... everything that led to Kaveh being where he is in life right now.] Goodness knows you've got a line out the door of people willing to fight with you over this or that, and even you must have some idea of how attractive you are. [A flicker of a smile returns, then--a brief attempt at levity, even though it's true.] But it would take a stronger man than me to walk away from the person he loves, so I can only hope you don't mind this weakness.
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