HaiKaveh (chapter 1 revised) (Patreon)

(I hope you will enjoy my attempt at fixing chapter 1☺️ I have learned so much with your help and feedback. I can only hope to continue improving)

HaiKaveh

Kaveh is sound asleep after pulling an all-nighter to work on a custom project. He encountered numerous setbacks, compelling him to disassemble and rearrange following the instructions of the Commissioner.

With a restless Kaveh, whose room is just a hallway away from Al-Haitham, Al-Haitham could not get a chance to sleep. The ruckus forces Al-Haitham to put on his soundproof headphones to bed, tossing and turning while brewing a throbbing headache and aching ears. Their mechanical structure did not mix well with his head pressed against a pillow.

Al-Haitham removes his headphones after reaching his limit, half expecting to blast through Kaveh’s door to give him a piece of his mind, only to realize it has become quiet.

Unable to tell when Kaveh finished working, he almost questions if he has gone deaf. It’s peaceful. Quiet.

He drops to bury his head back on his pillow, almost reaching contentment. But now, the silence is rather unsettling.

Al-Haitham shuffles out of bed to check on Kaveh. He bets he has worked himself to death.

Of course, the acting grandmaster finds no need to take on more than he can chew. He knows not of the struggles which Kaveh foregoes. Compared to Kaveh, he spoils with riches and the bliss of 8 hrs of restful night's sleep (when Kaveh is clear of work). Relishes in proper meals in correspondence to the lack of nutrients and sun exposure Kaveh cultivates.

Al-Haitham finds his way to the bedroom, knocks a few times on the door, and waits. Ultimately no one responds. Knowing Kaveh, his careless demeanor undoubtedly left the door unlocked. If Kaveh were to give him grief, he has the excuse that he knocked before entering.

Al-Haitham opens the door. The room is in disarray, with sketches scattered all over the floor, fragmented and torn. Perhaps Kaveh’s project is the pile of unwanted blueprints because he has undoubtedly outdone himself. Even though Kaveh is a bit of a clean freak, or to be precise, he thinks that occupying himself with cleaning for Al-Haitham would cancel out his debt guilt.

However, the bed is the only thing free of clutter, and there is no evidence of Kaveh sleeping in it. To his right is the workspace, full of empty glue cans, moss to make miniature plants and shrubs, paintbrushes, and a coffee mug, with some greenish discoloration and a paintbrush sticking out of it.

'What a mess.' Al-Haitham thought to himself.

The sight almost makes him feel bad, though he still understands he has yet to do anything wrong.

He feels sour for requiring to wear his soundproof set to bed; though he resists the urge to care, the sight of Kaveh drooling, cheek pressed down against the table, hair tattered, and eyes smeared in dark shadows encourages him to fetch a blanket off the bed to cover him. Al-Haitham then tightly fastens it around his scruff to avoid it sliding off his slender shoulders.

However, even with Kaveh’s blatant abuse of his health, Al-Haitham helping Kaveh with the project is out of the question. He has no plans to assist him as he finds it demeaning. He strongly believes tasks are to be achieved by the hands of the individual assigned to them.

Most importantly, to his observation of Kaveh, he is an entirely capable designer. He is a talented artist who loves what he does, and Al-Haitham has no right to intrude.

All that said and done, Al-Haitham is not remotely accustomed to seeing Kaveh in this condition; he often disregards how Kaveh is so prone to overworking and tends to bypass it. But the longer he has gotten to know Kaveh, the sight of him stirring crowds with laughter and fun has more than become the norm.

He has grown used to Kaveh's loud, outgoing personality. And more often, Al-Haitham would secure his grin from wandering eyes at his irresistible gallant smile. Their eyes accidentally meet from across the tavern, yet refute their longing for each other. His captivating beautiful eyes shine as red as the sunset, making it difficult to look away. Kaveh truly captivates anyone he falls into conversation with.

Kaveh is the cheerful and comforting presence, the complete and literal opposite of Al-Haitham. Their personalities clash in arguments about trivial matters and engage in flipping fingers. Though recently, when Al-Haitham and Kaveh would quarrel, Al-Haitham would catch wind of himself imagining an angry yet adorable kitten in place of Kaveh.

Al-Haitham questions himself in astonishment, 'Cute?' before erasing the thought.

Al-Haitham steps back. He leaves after checking into the sleep-deprived Kaveh's condition, unaware that Kaveh has been awake since he entered the room.

Kaveh opens his heavy weighted eyes ever so slightly at the sound of the closing door, then buries his face in his arms, holding the corner of the blanket Al-Haitham left warm with his touch.

//

“Cheers!”

Kaveh toasts along with Tighnari at the Lambad Tavern, near the south edge of Sumeru City. The two take a seat to toast the success of Kaveh completing his project with outstanding results. A few days have passed since his stress at work, and finally, today was the due date of his project.

He had fulfilled and submitted his work for the client, and before long, he shall receive his payment in full. He is ecstatic that he will not hear about his debt from Al-Haitham for a few moon cycles.

“I am telling you! One day I, Kaveh, will be a renowned architect across Tayvat. I will be so rich it will drop Al-Haitham off his high horse with a big bang!” Kaveh boasts and chugs, toasting for his future.

“I’m sure you will, Kaveh. But do you want to be a renowned architect solely to get back at Al-Haitham?” Tighnari chuckles in disbelief at the ridiculous primary goal.

“‘Just’ to get back at Al-Haitham?” Kaveh gapes with eyes, “Have you forgotten just how shitty Al-Haitham makes me feel?” then slaps his hand hesitantly against the table, considerate to Tighnari’s sensitive ears.

“Of course not. You make sure I am present to hear all about it” Tighnari recalls how often Kaveh would vent to him about the feeble scholar.

If it were not for his poor sensitive ears to loud noises, he would have given Kaveh an earful on how similar they are to a married couple. However, the fear of tipsy Kaveh tripling in size and breathing fire from shock makes him curl with chills.

“Exactly, I will certainly get back at him if it is the last thing I do”. Kaveh continues to chug while Tighnari sips from his cup, concerned for what will come of the intoxicated Kaveh.

Kaveh cracks the silence asking, “Where is Cyno, anyway? I thought you two planned to meet up for another round?”.

“Another round?!” Tighnari turns red to the tips of his ears. Though not visibly red to others, the way his ears tremble in response to Kaveh’s question is not unnoticeable.

Tighnari’s memories of encountering Cyno for a personal task start to gush in all at once. The chore of collecting Henna Berries ended in Cyno entering his rear during an unexpected rut.

Kaveh looks to Tighnari, who is in complete panic, and says, “Huh? What is up with you? Did you two not plan to play Genius Invocation TCG at the tavern again?” Kaveh side-eyes Tighnari while lifting his cup for another drink.

“R-right! Ahahah, he- uh, he got busy tending to some things?” Tighnari replies as if he is unsure of his words, raising further suspicion when he leans to intake what wine remains in his cup.

He cannot deny enjoying every bit of their encounter, but his thirst for Cyno unraveling in such a manner made him mortified. Though he still dreams of that day, he has yet to explain what came over him.

“Seriously, you are such an open book, Tighnari. I am surprised you have yet to confess to Cyno.” Kaveh blurts mid-drinking, and Tighnari spits out his mouth full of wine.

Somehow, hearing that from Kaveh is infuriating. Tighnari wipes his mouth. Just once, if he could smack some sense into Kaveh, he would. The fact remains that they have been friends for quite some time, so he retreats his clenched fist for now.

Tighnari opens his mouth to express, “You say that, but is it not the same for you and Al-Haitham, Kaveh?”.

Kaveh looks to Tighnari, his cup still lifted mid-air from drinking, with the rest of his drink streaming down his mouth from shock.

“WHAT!!” The tavern turns silent at the pretty blond boy exclaiming.

Tighnari seizes his ears just before the outburst deprives him of his hearing. As expected, mentioning anything related to their controversial relationship will result in a dispute.

The bustling noises of the tavern proceeds, and Kaveh sighs before replying, “As if.” He looks back to his empty cup, revealing his lonely masked expression before continuing, “Our relationship is nothing like that”.

Kaveh feels his mood start to waver, and for the remainder of his celebration, he proceeds silently, waving to the bartender for more drinks.

Kaveh abstained from putting into words his complicated relationship with Al-Haitham. He knows not to mention that they are roommates, and only a select few, like Cyno and Tighnari, are aware of his circumstances.

Bringing up how he got to live with Al-Haitham is no matter of boasting.

After he filed for bankruptcy, Kaveh had to rely on Al-Haitham to cover the cost of his stay. Individuals will surely assume that he is clinging to Al-Haitham for financial benefits.

He feels guilt and shame when he thinks about it. And he is thinking about it.

Though he hates every part of this situation, he recollects the small instance in which Al-Haitham engulfs him in a blanket to keep him warm. The small moments in which Al-Haitham acts unintentionally tender and kind stir in his thoughts. The moments in which their eyes would meet in a crowded room merely to avert their gaze shortly after, leaving him with ticklish ears. Amidst his confusion, Kaveh requests a knock-worthy liquor to deviate from his thoughts.

//

Tighnari helps the sulky, drunken Kaveh back home, resting his arm around his shoulder. Tighnari shuffles through the pockets of the architect, looking for the key to the house.

“Where is your key, Kaveh?” He asks as he continues to look, but it is nowhere to be detected.

The time is rather late, around midnight, and the chances of Al-Haitham being awake to let Kaveh in are close to zero.

Just as Tighnari gets ready to knock on the door, it swings open with Al-Haitham greeting them at the entrance, startling Tighnari.

Tighnari says, “Oh, hello Al-Haitham. I tried looking for his key to let him in without waking you, but-”

“He left his key inside,” Al-Haitham interrupts.

Tighnari observes Al-Haitham, wondering if he has been waiting to let Kaveh in. Tighnari could not pick up on Al-Haitham walking towards the door, even with his fennec hybrid ears.

“Thanks. I will take Kaveh inside now. You can head home and get some rest” Al-Haitham goes to shift Kaveh off Tighnari’s shoulder onto his.

“You two take care now” Tighnari turns to leave, and Al-Haitham shuts the door behind him after waving goodbye.

Al-Haitham ended their chat abruptly. He could not bring himself to stand around and converse much longer. He is far too exhausted. Despite not knowing how long Kaveh would be gone, he decided to wait for him by the door.

Al-Haitham supports Kaveh on their way to his bedroom.

Compared to his previous visit to Kaveh’s bedroom, the piles of paper seem to find their way to the bed. Kaveh most likely did not get the chance to clean up with how rushed he was to complete his piece. Al-Haitham starts to wonder, given that Kaveh went out to drink, perhaps his task is not what is weighing in on him.

Kaveh frequently partakes in the consumption of alcohol, but he never consumes enough to prevent him from standing upright. Al-Haitham starts to ponder whether he failed to submit his project or received horrid reviews, not knowing that the blame befalls him for Kaveh reaching this state.

“Mm~” Kaveh mumbles in his drunken condition, sluggishly dragging his feet on the floor. Al-Haitham grows impatient but would not dare clean up such a mess.

He adjusts Kaveh over his shoulder again before turning around to lead him to the living room.

Earlier, when the clock struck midnight, he left the lights on, pacing around in circles, overthinking what misfortunes Kaveh could have fallen into. Shortly after he readied himself to leave the house in search of him, Tighnari arrived at his doorstep with him in hand. Al-Haitham visualized Kaveh as an abandoned kitten in a cardboard box with the note "I need a home" written on it.

He takes a peek at the peaceful unconscious Kaveh.

In a rush to deliver him to his room so he could get some rest, he refrained from so much as glancing at him. But curiosity befalls him to observe his complexion, pushing to find answers as to what could weigh in on Kaveh.

Observing others when they rest in soundless slumber is no simple matter. To make matters worse, Kaveh is knocked out drunk. His face flushes as though a fever has taken over him, yet stray clear from any wrinkles.

Skin glows as smooth as ever, and the urge to touch him to confirm swiftly gets tossed to the back of his head.

His peaks turn to staring and observing Kaveh as he attempts to crack the case on his actions tonight.

He groans, then bends forward in defeat. His hand lightly presses against the uncovered back window of Kaveh on his way down. The smooth touch of fevered skin tingles at his fingertips as he slides Kaveh over to rest on the living room couch.

However, he did not anticipate Kaveh grabbing his shoulder and dragging him down.

The subtle touch of their noses brushing ever so slightly together. Their lips are only a hair away from complete contact.

Al-Haitham tries to back up when Kaveh opens his eyes, tightly locking his fingers to grab hold of Al-Haitham's neck, preventing him from doing so.

The nostrils of the scholar fill with the aroma of alcohol, distracting him from the fact that Kaveh has raised his knee to put pressure between his legs. The moisture which left the heavy breathing Kaveh so close to his lips jolts him back to his senses.

Al-Haitham promptly retracts to lock the palm of his hands onto the slim wrists of Kaveh, squeezing them to the couch over the conscious blond head.

Kaveh sniffles his nose at Al-Haitham's question, “What do you think you are doing?”.

Al-Haitham's brows pierce the center of his face. But soon as he had voiced out his concern, regret befalls him.

The eyes he glances into resonate with no ill intentions. Instead, they carry a sorrowful trace.

“Why do you treat me like this?” Kaveh asks, slurring his words as his alluring dreary eyes flood with tears, stressing Al-Haitham.

Al-Haitham withholds from showing it, but his internal panic at the sight of Kaveh in tears weakens his grip. Kaveh takes this opportunity to spring up and flip Al-Haitham over and under him.

Now he has the upper hand, pressing Al-Haitham down. Face up.

His tears drip, finding their way to Al-Haiham’s cheeks.

'What has gotten into him?' Al-Haitham wanders in his mind until Kaveh unleashes his list of complaints.

“So many days you would treat me like a burden.” The warm tears continue to stream down. “You complain about this and that, always looking down on me for being a nobody compared to you. How can you be so insensitive? And then you-” Kaveh rests his aching head against Al-Haitham’s chest, desperately tapping at him with his tightly balled hand, “And then you do something that forces me to forget about it.”

Kaveh swings back his head with his eyes pressed shut in annoyance. “AHH!” He yells out. “Maybe I AM the problem!”. His eyes moisturize in tears no matter how hard he wipes at them.

“I could just ignore you or even go to a ditch somewhere and sleep. It would not cost me much that way, would it?” Kaveh locks eyes with Al-Haitham looking for any signs or words, scanning for anything that would put his mind at ease.

Al-Haitham remains there with his elbow supporting his upper body. His mouth gapes open as though he is pondering over words to speak, except there is silence amidst his confusion.

Al-Haitham knows that expressing comforting words is not within his capabilities. His words are often firm, quick to the point, and in some ways, far too honest. Never affectionate.

He finds that saying nothing at all would serve Kaveh better.

Even if he were to find the right words to articulate, his lack of practice harbors a tight grip on the back of his throat, making it difficult for him to gauge his words, words of reassurance.

The silence speaks loudly to Kaveh, convincing him that the stone-bitter heart of Al-Haitham is beyond wavering. He lets out what he thinks would be his final words before retreating for the night, “Just forget it. What was I even expecting?” then gets swept away by Al-Haitham’s grip, holding his neck to pull him closer for a quick kiss.

For a moment, Al-Haitham looks to be as awe-struck as Kaveh. Perhaps he did not plan to take such an initiative. Kaveh sits there speechless, processing what has just taken place. A drunken idiot who just cried out a bunch of complaints, cried, and snotted all over the man's chest, suddenly got a kiss from him? Excuse me?

Kaveh feels his heartbeat pound away at his chest. ‘Huh? Wha-?’ His head fills up in uncertainty, almost hallucinating a big question mark atop his head. While Kaveh is questioning what took place, Al-Haitham slips his legs back from under Kaveh in an attempt to flee, wearing his infamous poker face.

“WAIT!!” Kaveh grips on Al-Haitham’s pants, jerking him back to the couch. “You can’t just walk away after doing that!” Kaveh yells.

“Doing what?” Al-Haitham acts as though the kiss had not just occurred, but the phantom weight of their lips touching lingers as a reminder.

“You just..” Kaveh stammers in embarrassment, “kissed me.” and shakily reaches to touch his lips.

Al-Haitham averts his eyes and lifts his hand over his mouth. He can feel his face flare up but performs a terrible job of hiding it, allowing Kaveh to observe Al-Haitham’s cheeks as they powder with red. This proof is all he needs to confirm the kiss was not just in his drunken head.

They both silently sit there across from one another. Al-Haitham looks away in contrast to Kaveh until Kaveh declares, "Is that it?"  catching Al-Haitham by surprise, "You call that a kiss?"

Kaveh knows how to sound loud and clear when it matters, and right now, that poor excuse of a kiss is not enough.

The kiss is uncalled for. However, Kaveh is in denial that it is nowhere near how he imagined their first intimate interaction would serve to be.

Sure, he has fantasized about it but never found the courage to make the first move. The constant dilemma of whether Al-Haitham hates his guts or has an ounce of appreciation towards him pesters in his mind often.

Perhaps this is an invitation, a shot to test out his limits?

Kaveh withholds no time before leaning toward Al-Haitham, who sits there wide-eyed. Kaveh finds the courage to crawl closer until he catches sight of himself, reflecting in Al-Haitham’s green eyes. Slowly, he carries on to close the gap between them.

Their lips tail closely over each other when suddenly, Al-Haitham backs away, responding to Kaveh's courageous advance with “You’re drunk”.

Kaveh getting rejected leaves him flabbergasted. He thought he had read the signs correctly. Then again, Al-Haitham is not a simple individual to crack.

Amidst his disappointment, Kaveh attempts to lean in again with his eyes tightly shut, except what pressed against his lips did not feel like the soft rims he experienced moments ago. Instead, his lips meet the palm Al-Haitham's hand.

The similar words previously spoken by Al-Haitham now convey with a whisper, “You’re drunk”. As though saying it once did not deliver clearly.

“Oh, come on!” Kaveh’s face puffs up, the familiar expression Al-Haitham is so used to.

His brows crease in frustration, and his lower lips hang just slightly below his top row of teeth, furiously gritting.

A cute kitty, Al-Haitham, swiftly brushes off the thought before it forms. Once again.

Seeing Kaveh in this state is reassuring. The shimmering tears that once dribbled from his eyes almost completely drained.

Al-Haitham lets out a surge of wind through his teeth before announcing, “I shall wait here until you fall asleep”, relaxing Kaveh’s visible veins.

It’s not at all what he has hoped for. But he cannot be too selfish when he is still presented with a considerate offer, seeing how he is inconveniently not in the right state to act on his desires.

“Fine,” Kaveh puckers his lips before he drops his body against Al-Haitham, and wraps his arms around him firmly. “But you are not going anywhere, even after I sleep”.

Kaveh plows his head against Al-Haitham’s firm yet soft chest, waiting to see if he will toss his feelings aside again.

To his surprise, Al-Haitham slowly adjusts his body to lie flat on the couch under him. His stern arms, which could be mistaken to only maneuver in aggressive battle, indulge him with a tender embrace.

His heart flutters, unable to distinguish between Al-Haitham and his irregular heartbeat. He sinks deeply into his arms, clearing the gap between them.