I don't have a choice (but I still choose you)

by robynwoods

Summary:

It started with the machines. Then the people, then his own mind. Thoughts that weren't his own, memories he never experienced. Alhaitham could have lived with all of this, could have learned to cope.

Then it started to affect Kaveh.

Notes:

Can you believe haikaveh made me post my first fic, after all this time? I can. They have me in a chokehold.

English isn't my first language, so if you see any mistakes, let me know

Anyway enjoy I hope and don't hesitate to leave a comment if you liked it!

Title from Poison and Wine, by The Civil Wars

 

 

Oh, I don’t love you

But I always will

— Poison and wine, by The Civil Wars

 

 

Alhaitham wasn’t a man prone to bouts of depression, or even nervousness, really. He would set a goal, examine the possible paths to take, and choose the most efficient one. He would even go so far as to call himself predictable, if only others’ minds worked like his. Very few things could make him dwell, reexamine, reevaluate, or regret. Even fewer people. 

 

And yet, since childhood, he’d always held a certain… melancholy within himself, with no determinable cause. A certain longing. It had abated as he grew, but it still lingered, until it was finally chased away by a bright smile and unmistakable ruby eyes. And then they were gone, and the longing came back, worse still, filling the hole left behind by that light. 

 

It didn’t matter. Alhaitham held no illusions about himself. This was the one topic, the one subject he’d never been able to let go of, but it didn’t mean it had to be a distraction. He’d accepted that part of himself long ago.

 

So even though he carried his share of regrets, of dashed hopes, he wasn’t the type to dwell. He simply carried them. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t know who he would be now, without them. And more precious still, the new expectations, the new fragile hopes that have started to take root again after opening his door to a hurricane of light. No, Alhaitham didn’t waste his time on the past.

 

Except now, Alhaitham dreamed. 

 

It was usually inconsequential, leaving only vague impressions of red and gold once he woke up, and at worse an uncomfortable situation. But sometimes… sometimes.

 

Sometimes he dreamed of the desert.

 

The dreams never started that way, though. They usually started innocuously, in his own home, reading with Kaveh on the other sofa, sketching, or going grocery shopping with Kaveh, watching Kaveh prepare dinner. Then it shifted. Sometimes he was looking at Kaveh when it happened, and the fear of seeing him disappear followed him for the rest of his sleep. He dreamed of sand stretching far beyond the horizon, of oasis, of structures and civilization. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, but it had never been so… familiar. Not only that, but once he noticed them, the differences were striking. The oasis were larger, less remote, less rare, the structures were not only running smoothly, but showed no sign of wear. And the civilization was prospering. Floods of people walking around, living comfortable lives, unaffected by the harshness of the desert, secure in their belief that nothing would change.

 

And him, standing above them.

 

He didn’t wake up in a cold sweat from those dreams like he’d heard some people talking about. He woke slowly, sluggishly, mind struggling to come back to reality. It was unpleasant. Never had he been a morning person, but even then, he still knew very well where and who he was. 

 

It was an irritating new part of his life, one he hadn’t expected when it was announced that dreams would come back, but that was it. A discomfort that he left behind when he got out of bed to get coffee and hopefully cross paths with his roommate before going to work. Something he forgot about even quicker when he could spend the day lounging with a book instead. But soon, it crept into his days until he couldn’t ignore it.

 

It started with the machines. Alhaitham was in the desert on a rare opportunity to escape his work as Acting Grand Sage, deep in the underground ruins of what used to be massive waterways, when four primal constructs came to life at his approach. He readied himself for combat, raising his sword in front of him, but the constructs didn’t approach further. Instead, they parted in front of him, opening a path, and stilled again. 

 

Alhaitham didn’t move, expecting this to be a surprising show of strategy from the machines waiting to take him by surprise, but they stayed completely still. Finally, he marched on, without any reaction from them. And it was the same with all other constructs from this point on. He assumed it was something unique to these particular ruins, perhaps their circuits had been corrupted by something, it would be an interesting topic to mention. 

 

But on his way back through the desert, all constructs acted the same.

 

He arrived in Caravan Ribat puzzled, though not yet unsettled. That came when the residents all stared at him as he walked through the town. Heads turned, conversations stopped, some items were dropped, to no reactions.

 

Alhaitham walked faster. 

 

It was better when he arrived back in Sumeru City, but there were still signs. Eremite guards slowing their steps as he passed, looking lost when they met his eyes. He kept his gaze forward, and quickened his steps. An unfamiliar anxiety was starting to grow in his stomach, a possibility he didn’t want to confront but had no choice but to. With it came hope, of course, crawling up his throat with the chilling prospect of disappointment.

 

He was greeted by silence when he opened the door to their house, but there were dishes in the sink, a new vase of flowers on the low table, and the smell of coffee in the air. Without hesitation, he walked to a door on the left and pushed it open without bothering to knock. Hunched over papers, the figure inside didn’t react to his arrival, head remaining bowed, hiding their face.

 

Alhaitham stayed immobile for a few seconds, taking a deep breath as his muscles finally loosened. Yet, the worry remained, still untested.

 

“I’m home,” he said, and waited.

 

Kaveh’s head snapped up, golden hair fluttering at the sudden movement. He turned on his chair, red eyes finding his, and blinked. 

 

“Oh!” he said. “Welcome home. I wasn’t expecting you until later, maybe even tomorrow.”

 

Alhaitham was about to respond, when Kaveh took a second look at him, blinked again, and tilted his head. The worry inside him turned ice-cold, becoming fear, and he waited. Kaveh hummed.

 

“You look terrible.”

 

His breath, held unconsciously, released at once, and he relaxed completely.

 

“You don’t look too good yourself, yet which of the two of us spent a week in the desert, again?”

 

Kaveh puffed up like an angry cat, but it didn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes, or the tired slump of his shoulders. He’d overworked himself, as usual when Alhaitham wasn’t there to force him to sleep.

 

“You—! Is that really the first thing you say to me after coming back?! An insult?!”

“You started it,” Alhaitham reminded him. “And technically, the first thing I said is ‘I’m home’.”

“It was worry! Worry! Can I not express concern without being insulted?!”

“In that case, can you not fathom the same sentiment from my words?”

 

Before Kaveh could start on another tirade, incensed, Alhaitham added:

 

“But Kaveh, I am glad to be back.”

“Oh, uh, glad to have you back too,” said Kaveh, startled into honesty. 

 

Alhaitham smiled, just a little. The thing in his stomach has turned warm, expanding through his chest. He’s home, and nothing has changed. 

 

“I’m going to make coffee. Do you want any?”

“Oh! Yes please!”

 

And so Alhaitham started making one cup of coffee and one cup of herbal tea for himself, knowing very well that at this stage, caffeine wouldn’t do anything to Kaveh unless it was especially strong. And if he made Kaveh’s cup especially light, with just enough coffee to change the colour of the warm milk, unlike the black sludge the architect favoured, then he was just out of practice. Or, as Kaveh would probably choose to believe, looking for a way to annoy him. That worked, too. 

 

Once the cups were ready, he brought them to the living room and placed them on the table before sitting on the divan and taking out a book. 

 

“If you want it, you’ll have to come drink it here,” he called out.

 

A moment of silence, then an annoyed huff, before Kaveh came out of his workroom, stretching as he walked. Alhaitham eyed the sliver of toned stomach revealed by the movement, before taking a sip and going back back to his book. He didn’t miss Kaveh’s grimace as he drank from his cup, but apart from narrowing his eyes at him, he didn’t remark on it.

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, one reading and the other distracted by his own thoughts, before Kaveh spoke up.

 

“Did anything happen, while you were in the desert?”

 

Alhaitham didn’t let himself freeze, just turned the page of his book, looking unbothered.

 

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Why do you ask?”

 

Kaveh hummed behind his cup, eyeing him closely. 

 

“No reason,” he finally said. “Just curious.”

 

They stayed like this for a few more minutes until Kaveh, as expected, started nodding off in his seat. Alhaitham raised an eyebrow at him after watching him jolt himself awake for the third time, and Kaveh scowled back at him with bleary eyes.

 

“This is all because of your shitty coffee,” he grumbled even as he let himself sink deeper into his seat, head falling to the side.

 

Alhaitham waited a little while for his breathing to even out before getting up and carefully gathering him into his arms, lifting him up. He took a moment to adjust his hold, Kaveh’s head falling onto his shoulder and his whole body curling closer to the warmth. A shiver ran up Alhaitham’s spine at the breath on his neck, but he ignored it with an ease born from practice. 

 

Walking into the architect’s bedroom, he gently lowered him onto his unmade bed, then pulled the covers over him. He watched, just for a moment, as Kaveh snuggled comfortably into the sheets, before making himself turn away.

 

Just as he took a step, however, Kaveh stirred and mumbled something resembling vaguely Alhaitham’s name, and something hot squirmed in his belly. He looked back, and met Kaveh’s eyes, blurry and half-lidded, but aware. He smiled sleepily, unaware of the palpitations he gave his roommate.

 

“Welcome home, Alhaitham,” he repeated his words from earlier, but infinitely softer, even more devastating. Alhaitham swallowed.

“I’m home, Kaveh,” he said again, in a low voice, daring to let his voice soften, betraying his feelings in a way his words never could. 

 

Kaveh smiled again, and Alhaitham had to clench his fists to resist the urge to walk back and brush his hair away from his eyes, to sit on the bed next to him and lean down, perhaps. 

 

Kaveh closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into his covers, and Alhaitham scoffed at himself. How many times had he considered doing something about the feelings eating away at his sanity? Just as many times as he’d stomped down on the urge, he supposed. Fear was a natural evolutionary necessity, it was sometimes for the best to let it win. Because Alhaitham wasn’t sure he’d survive it if Kaveh walked out of his life once more, after having so thoroughly infiltrated it. He was everywhere now, and Alhaitham, if he was honest with himself, couldn’t stand to see it gone.

 

He read a little more, finishing his tea, before taking the cups to the sink and preparing himself for bed. Soon enough, he was sinking into sleep, the exhaustion from his day finally catching up to him.

 

He did not dream of the desert that night. Instead, he saw a figure, dancing. Long flowing hair, spun like gold, a gentle smile, an abundance of flowers. Instead of familiarity, he felt a longing so intense it brought him pain, and when she turned to him, extending her hand, he woke up with a gasp. He sat up slowly, bringing a hand up to his fast-beating heart.

 

This dream felt like a betrayal, somehow, of the feelings he’s held for Kaveh for all those years. Yet, even the thought of Kaveh right now felt like a betrayal to… someone. 

 

He shook his head. His whole life, he’d only ever loved, truly loved, two people. His grandmother, first, and later, Kaveh. Neither of these loves had ever left his heart, and he would certainly know if there was a third, mysterious person he loved so deeply. No, these feelings didn’t belong to him.

 

The thought sent a chill down his spine. 

 

(If not him, then who?)

 

He needed to see Kaveh. The thought spurred him on, making him get up and get dressed, soon walking into the kitchen with tense shoulders. The light hit his eyes, making him squint, then he stopped, taking a deep breath. 

 

Next to the window, standing in front of the coffee maker, Kaveh turned towards him and scowled. The light was making his hair shine, looking almost like gold, and remnants of his dream crept in. Then Kaveh started talking, shattering them instantly.

 

“There you are! Do you know how important the project I’m working on is? I don’t have time to waste on—”

“On sleeping? And I suppose your client will be happy, when they receive plans made incomprehensible by your tired mind? Besides, what does that have to do with me? You’re the one who fell asleep in the living room.”

 

Kaveh pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, looking a second away from accusing him of plotting a way to make his doze off (he wouldn’t be wrong), but that would entail acknowledging some form of caring from Alhaitham, and so he simply turned his head away, huffing. He turned back towards the counter, finishing what he’d been doing, then walked to the table and loudly, if carefully, put two cups of coffee on the wood. One was Kaveh’s black coffee, without any add-ons, the  other Alhaitham’s preferred way, a little sugar, a little cream. He already knew it would be perfect. 

 

“I wouldn’t be forced to pull all-nighters, if only this client could learn to be a little more reasonable! Do you know what he said to me, when I told him that changing the plans again would slow the process significantly? He—...”

 

Sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee while listening to Kaveh rant, Alhaitham held back a sigh of contentment. This was the life he wanted. He had what he wanted right here, everything else was inconsequential. Dreams were dreams, in the end, new as they were, and things would resolve themselves as the novelty wore off. He had more important things to focus on.

 

Except weeks passed, and the dreams didn’t stop. 

 

He’d heard about the dream scandal, someone bringing simulations of individuals people had lost into their dreams. He’d thought his own dreams had perhaps been connected to his, though he didn’t recognize what and who was depicted in them, but they’d continued undeterred after the scholar responsible had been arrested. 

 

The dreams hadn’t stopped, and neither had the looks he received. Some Eremites now literally stopped in their tracks when they met his eyes, looking awestruck and dumbfounded at once. It was always his eyes they were looking at.

 

He’d checked in the mirror, they were the same as they’d always been. That made it worse. 

 

Alhaitham became progressively more irritable and impatient, while everyone around him either became more and more deferent, or intimidated. Neither helped. And so he continued terrorizing the scholars and avoiding the Eremite guards, along with the few students from the desert. His reign of terror probably would have persisted if one scholar hadn’t crossed a particular architect in the street one morning after a particularly grueling session with the Acting Grand Sage, and gotten a brilliant idea. Kaveh’s arrival in the Akademiya brought both whispers and hopeful looks, but he paid neither any mind.

 

Alhaitham didn’t raise his eyes when the elevator to his office activated, and still didn’t look away from the document on his desk when it arrived to destination. Panah was currently absent, working on another task, so he was alone in the office. 

 

“State your business,” he simply said.

 

When no answer came, he frowned, but it’s only when the footsteps arrived close enough that he finally raised his head to berate whoever this was enough that they wouldn’t appear in front of him again for a year. 

 

“What exactly makes you think that—”

“So this is how you spend your days now? No wonder you’re grumpy enough that the scholars are scared of you. You can’t even ditch your office and tell people to just leave a message. Must be torture.”

 

Alhaitham blinked.

 

“... Kaveh.” Then he frowned. “What, did someone complain?”

 

Kaveh waved a hand dismissively.

 

“Yes, but that’s not important, it’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh? Then what, pray tell, brought the Light of Ksharewar to the Akademiya, to this office?”

 

Kaveh crossed his arms and simply looked at him for a few seconds without answering. Alhaitham allowed it, observing him in return. Kaveh still had dark circles under his eyes, and on the nights where Alhaitham couldn’t sleep because of his dreams and Kaveh wasn’t hammering away or working in the office, he sometimes heard the architect get up and walk around in his room, aimlessly. Part of him wanted to ask, but what could he say? Saying he heard Kaveh would be admitting to his own nightly troubles, and he wasn’t quite ready for that. 

 

Finally, Kaveh spoke.

 

“I was talking to the Traveler recently, and they told me how they’d explored Chatrakam Cave and found some interesting things, including a few ruins. I was surprised, of course, considering Chatrakam Cave has been sealed off for as long as I can remember, but apparently, they managed to open it. I’ve decided to go and see it for myself, are you interested in coming with? Unless you’re too busy with work, of course.”

 

Alhaitham stared at him for a moment, glanced at his unfinished pile of documents, and put down his pen.

 

“As it happens, I’m done for the day.”

 

Kaveh raised an eyebrow, amused despite himself.

 

“What a fortunate coincidence.”

“If all you do is wait for coincidences to simply happen, you’ll waste more time than you gained,” Alhaitham said, getting up. “Did you already make preparations?”

“Everything is ready, we just need to pass by the house.”

“Then let’s hurry, before someone else comes in with some inane request.”

 

They attracted looks, walking through the Akademiya, but nobody dared to stop them, even as they walked out the door. Barely half an hour later, they were on their way to Chatrakam Cave, bickering over the merits of architectural innovations versus more traditional methods. It was a breath of fresh air for Alhaitham. Walking away from the city gave him a relief he honestly hadn’t expected, and Kaveh’s presence was a welcome reminder of what he still had and wished to protect. All of this was still his. 

 

Kaveh met his eyes, and Alhaitham knew who he saw. Alhaitham had always known who he was, but never was he so much of himself as when he was with Kaveh. If Kaveh saw him as he was, if Kaveh kept looking at him, Alhaitham would trust his eyes first always, before any others who saw him as something else.

 

“Alhaitham,” Kaveh said, and Alhaitham listened. “What do you make of these pillars? They are unlike the traditional style used here in Sumeru for decades, but they strangely remind me of old Mondstadt pillars you can find in the wilderness, rather than in their city. Isn’t that bizarre? That both here and in Mondstadt, ruins show similarities in style. I wonder if I were to go to Inazuma, or explore less populated areas of Liyue…”

 

Alhaitham listened. 

 

They came back from Chatrakam Cave tired, but satisfied. Alhaitham did find some runes that were unlike any he’d studied before, but that were reminiscent of symbols he’d crossed before in the forest. After fighting numerous fungi and ruin machines, they’d decided to call it a day. 

 

As he walked, Alhaitham took stock of his own body. His muscles were pleasantly warm from exertion, he was a bit sore in a few places, but most importantly, he was more relaxed than he had been in days. He let out a breath, the corners of his mouth tugging up, and let himself walk a little closer to Kaveh. The architect sent him a glance from the corner of his eye, then looked forward again as he spoke.

 

“From what I’ve heard, you’ve been even more ill-tempered than usual, lately. You’re only like this when there’s something bothering you, but you can’t do anything about it. Do you want to share? Not to be arrogant, but perhaps I could do something to help.”

 

Alhaitham stayed silent for a moment, head turned to the side, admiring his companion’s profile. He was resolutely not looking at him, even though he must sense his stare. Alhaitham smiled to himself, fingers flexing with the urge to reach out and hold. He opened his mouth instead.

 

“Oh? Is the Light of Ksharewar spending some of his precious time thinking of me, to be able to come to that conclusion? What an honor.”

 

Predictably, Kaveh reddened and puffed up at his words, ready to go on a tirade about ungrateful juniors and their terrible attitude. But, contrary to what Alhaitham had anticipated, he took a deep breath and calmed down quickly, though still shooting him a glare. 

 

“You can simply tell me you don’t want to talk about it, instead of trying to irritate me, you know! It’s fine if you want to keep it to yourself, what I mean is, well, that is to say…”

 

Alhaitham watched with soft eyes as Kaveh started muttering, warmth spreading through his chest at how the other was clearly struggling with getting the words out, but still trying. He waited patiently, overwhelmingly fond.

 

“What I mean to say!” Kaveh finally enunciated clearly, cheeks red, “is that even if you don’t want to talk about it, or don’t want help, I’m still… I’m still here. For you.” 

 

Alhaitham stopped walking. Kaveh stubbornly kept on for a few steps, before giving in and crossing his arms, not looking at him. Alhaitham did not look away. Something inside him, something coiled up and curled into itself, something that was still afraid, unfurled slowly, just a little, to turn toward the sun. When he spoke, his voice was steady, despite his heart beating into his throat.

“I know.”

 

Kaveh glanced back, just for a second, before looking away again, flustered at whatever he saw in his eyes.

 

“Good,” he coughed, “that’s good. Don’t… don’t forget.”

“I won’t.”

 

Alhaitham walked back to his side, and Kaveh fell into step with him, silent. After a few minutes, Alhaitham broke the silence.

 

“Did you read the latest study on the dangers of codependency and social parasitism in an academic setting, published by a Vahumana scholar?”

 

Kaveh turned to him immediately, a light glowing in his eyes.

 

“That rubbish? I sure did! Can you believe the theories he posited at the end? Extrapolating on the idea that humans are fundamentally egotistical and self-serving creatures, and that every relationship is funded on one individual taking, and the other being taken from. It was entirely preposterous! If he’d consulted at least once with any Amurta scholar worth their salt, they could have educated him on social behaviors that are mirrored in both human and animals, although greatly simplified, that serve as a baseline for many social structures and exchanges. Because that’s what they are, exchanges! Thank god that Hat Guy already ripped him a new one in his response paper, which was surprising, considering what his personality is apparently like, but very well said. Now of course I can agree that at their core, people are selfish, and so are many of our actions, but doesn’t that give even more weight to the times when people act solely for the sake of others? Also, even if—”

 

Listening attentively and mentally preparing his response, Alhaitham felt some lingering tension leave his shoulders. These moments were what he worked for, what he wanted to protect. And much later, after they’d arrived home, ate and got ready for bed, Alhaitham felt no dread at the prospect of the dreams he might have. Things weren’t that bad after all. 

 

Then came the day Cyno walked into his office, and the General’s knees almost buckled when their eyes met. They didn’t, thankfully for them both, but Cyno looked shellshocked nonetheless. 

 

“What…” He looked at Alhaitham, but was careful to keep away from his face. “What happened?”

 

Alhaitham clenched his fists.

 

“Nothing happened. It’s just… like this.”

 

Cyno stayed silent for a moment still, then nodded. He proceeded to give his report like nothing was different, and even managed to look him in the eyes before leaving, nodding at him again. Alhaitham did like Cyno, occasionally. 

 

Cyno’s casual demeanor settled him enough that he was unprepared for what came next, even though he’d thought of the possibility before. Perhaps he was more prone to denial than he’d previously believed. 

 

He was reading at home, distractedly listening to Kaveh talk about his research on the desert construction site he would be visiting. It was a completely normal evening, common and comfortable.

 

“The hollow corridors they’ve hit while digging are really quite large and intricate, they’ve not managed to find any sort of converging room yet, but the running theory is that it used to hold water. Can you imagine? I wonder if it used to be linked to a great source somewhere, it would have to be maintained regularly—”

“It was,” Alhaitham cut in without raising his eyes from the pages.

“...Pardon?”

“It was linked to a source, and there were multiple people in charge of maintenance, along with a head priestess maintaining the power.”

 

It was the silence that finally made him look up, confused as to what made Kaveh quiet for so long. His roommate was looking at him with complicated eyes, seeming both concerned and apprehensive. 

 

“Haitham… how do you know that?”

 

He opened his mouth, ready to say he’d read it in a book, then closed it again. It wasn’t true. He’d never read anything about the water channels of the previous desert civilisation, he doubted there were any books written about it. Because it was lost knowledge. The secrets buried beneath the sands were well-hidden, and scholars still only knew bits and pieces about the lives of the people who lived under King Deshret’s reign. These presumed water channels were a breaking discovery that would baffle anyone who heard about them, or at least incur some sort of curiosity. Alhaitham should have been curious, potential new knowledge always sure to garner his attention. And yet. 

 

Yet he felt like he already knew everything there was to know about it. 

 

Kaveh was still looking at him, and suddenly he felt uncomfortable in his own skin, unable to bear having someone else’s eyes on him. He stood up without a word and walked to his room, feeling his roommate’s gaze the whole time. Kaveh didn’t try to stop him.

 

Once the door closed behind him, he stayed still. He closed his eyes, took a breath.

 

Think. You have all the pieces of the puzzle necessary, you’ve even pieced it together already, you just don’t want to admit it. This isn’t like you. Face the conclusion, then use your knowledge to change the outcome. 

 

Alhaitham opened his eyes, brought his clenched fists in front of him, and slowly uncurled each finger until he was left staring at his opened hands. He knew what his eyes looked like, he knew they hadn’t changed, people simply looked at them differently, recognized them as something more. Even though he was born with them, they were the mark of someone else. 

 

Were his hands the same? Every small mark was a consequence of his actions, every callouses a result of his choices, but did they also belong to someone else? Were they simply a reflection of something that was real a millenia ago and was destined to exist again through his own, unaware existence? Did it matter?

 

He closed his fists again. They responded to him, and that was enough.

 

“Deshret,” he said, alone in the room. 

 

But from the depths of his mind, of his soul, something stirred.

 

And answered.

 

---

 

Images flash before his eyes, too quick to comprehend, and yet he recognizes them all. Sand further than the eye can see, constructs and buildings defying the hostile environment and succeeding. 

 

Enough knowledge to rule over a nation, a refusal of supposedly higher powers. An ambition, always growing. 

 

Responsibility split in three, trust shared freely. 

 

Wise forest ruler, who left and came back.

 

And her. Her, her her her herherherherherherHERHERHER

 

---

 

Alhaitham opened his eyes with a gasp. He was no longer standing, now on the floor with his back to the door.

 

“Alhaitham?” a voice called from the living room. “Everything alright?”

 

Who?

 

For a few seconds, Alhaitham didn’t recognize the voice. Then it came rushing back, all at once, and a shiver of fear ran down his back.

 

“I’m fine, Kaveh,” he answered finally. 

 

Whether Kaveh was convinced or not, he didn’t call out again, which was a relief. Because Alhaitham didn’t know how he would react to seeing him right now. 

 

For a few seconds, he’d forgotten about Kaveh. Him, Alhaitham, forgetting about Kaveh. His closest acquaintance, his mirror, the love of his life.

 

( The love of his life had long flowing hair and delicate horns, the love of his life was dead . )

 

He shook his head. That wasn’t him. That wasn’t his life.

 

“It was,” said something, Deshret, inside him, “because we’re the same.”

 

Alhaitham tilted his head back slowly, until it was resting against the wood, and closed his eyes.

 

“We’re not,” he whispered.

 

There was no answer, but it wasn’t necessary. He felt the god’s derision all the same. 

 

But they weren’t. Deshret had gone mad because of his ambitions and desire for greater things, while Alhaitham was quite content with being simply comfortable. Alhaitham had everything he wanted right here. Deshret had lost everything while reaching for more, Alhaitham would never make that mistake. 

 

---

 

It didn’t get easier. He started getting flashes of the past in his waking moments, blinking into an ocean of sand and blinking back to the walls of the Akademiya. The faces of strangers overlaying themselves on the faces of people he walked past, he refused to look at them properly, lest he recognized them. Aborted words, aborted movements, things that felt familiar for a second before going back to being completely foreign. 

 

But the worst? The madness. The mourning. The love . Because Alhaitham already loved someone, but the person he loved was dead, but the person he loved greeted him in the morning. 

 

But despite everything, the world kept moving, and Alhaitham with it. Except every day felt like a little bit more of his hold on his own life was being taken, bits and pieces of himself slipping away. It started small, but it grew, quickly, into something he couldn’t control. The catalyst was almost always Kaveh, and he was self-aware enough to know why. 

 

“Haitham, look at that! Isn’t it cute?”

 

Alhaitham hummed, keeping his eyes on his book so he wouldn’t end up smiling. He loved when Kaveh slipped and called him Haitham. It didn’t happen too often, either when he was distracted, or very angry. Either way, it settled something inside Alhaitham’s chest, to know some part of Kaveh still thought of him as someone close enough to do so.

 

“Hey, are you listening? I don’t want to see you come back with another ugly piece of furniture, so pay attention!”

 

As Kaveh got closer, Alhaitham considered the pros and cons of continuing to ignore him, the main benefit being that Kaveh might come closer still to try and get his attention. The main drawback being that he might get fed up and walk away, staying huffy for the rest of the walk back to their home.

 

As he pondered this, he noticed from the corner of his eye someone about to run into Kaveh, who was still focused on him. Quickly, without thinking about it, he wrapped an arm around Kaveh’s small waist and pulled him to his side.

 

“Oh!” 

 

Kaveh stumbled into him, and the man passed them without even acknowledging them. Alhaitham would frown, but he was more preoccupied with the one pressed against him, staring back with wide eyes. The colour really was extraordinary, he mused while his fingers flexed around Kaveh’s waist, who jumped a little. Cute. 

 

“Ah… thank you. You didn’t have to pull me so close, though…”

 

As Alhaitham went to respond, teasing words on the tip of his tongue, a voice hissed from deep inside him, somewhere that wasn’t even him anymore. 

 

“Wrong,” it whispered. “Wrong voice, wrong body, wrong person, it’s all wrong.”

 

Alhaithm let go of Kaveh and put a bit of distance between them, ignoring the throb of disappointment in his chest.

 

“We should get going,” he said, and the other followed him silently.

 

To Deshret, he sent another thought.

 

“Nothing about Kaveh is wrong. Silence.”

 

The deceased god-king said nothing in response, but Alhaitham knew better than to think this was over.  

 

---

 

The thing about Kaveh was that he never was his own priority. Or, at the very least, very rarely. And Alhaitham had no qualms about berating this particular trait of his roommate. Others may not, blinded by Kaveh’s proficiency, his success, the way he kept smiling back when people shot him concerned looks, worried words. Kaveh’s smile didn’t last in front of Alhaitham, and it would be hurtful, if that smile had been anything close to sincere. Instead it felt like an accomplishment, like jumping over a wall everyone else was stopped by. Like an affirmation. Kaveh thought of him as different from everyone else, thought of him as someone with whom he could be real, be true. And though it meant Kaveh’s softness was often reserved for others and washed away in his presence, Alhaitham would take Kaveh’s jagged edges over a superficial sweetness every time.

 

And now here Kaveh was, injured because he couldn’t stand letting someone else take the exact same risks as him, thus increasing the likelihood of an accident. And still he batted away Alhaitham’s attempts to help him, like his concern was something to be brushed off, or perhaps Kaveh couldn’t even fathom the idea of it. So Alhaitham kept his hands to himself, for now, until Kaveh exhausted the flimsy pride that was bruised from needing help. Alhaitham would be ready, then. Like always. 

 

“I love you,” he thought. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Please let me be there for you, please stop convincing yourself I don’t want to. Please stop thinking you need to give something back, I don’t need anything from you, I just want you.”

 

“That was stupid and reckless,” he said. “Do you think just because you have some expertise everything will go your way and you can afford to take such risks? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You…! Are you inherently incapable of being considerate? I would do it again, because I thought it was the right thing to do. Not that you’d understand. Not everything is about logic and rationality in life.”

 

“If you don’t put yourself first, then I will,” thought Alhaitham, but said nothing, and Kaveh turned away in a huff.

“You can’t love him,” Deshret’s voice came. “You are me. You cannot love him.”

“I do,” Alhaitham thought in response, watching Kaveh stalk away from him. “I always have. I never stopped.”

 

---

 

They were out of the city, Kaveh because he wanted to gain some inspiration and do some field investigation for a new project, and Alhaitham accompanied him simply because he wanted to be away from people’s stares. They were walking side by side, both lost in thoughts while taking in their surroundings. 

 

“Say, Alhaitham.”

“Hm?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

 

Alhaitham blinked at the question, and turned his head to look at Kaveh for a long moment, before turning back forward.

 

“I don’t,” he answered finally.

 

Kaveh smiled a little, without looking at him, his eyes never straying from the path. Alhaitham swallowed back the urge to reach out and push away those bangs to get a better glimpse, to try and see if he could find within his pupils what had Kaveh so focused. When he wasn’t in front of his work, it was nigh-impossible for him not to try and take in everything at once, for him not to be distracted from his destination. If Kaveh let him, Alhaitham would be his anchor, hold him by the hand so that whenever he strayed, Alhaitham would be there to guide him back in the right direction. And Kaveh would show Alhaitham sights he never would’ve seen otherwise, would have him contemplate what he never would’ve considered alone. Kaveh did not let him, but it didn’t mean Alhaitham stopped trying. Alhaitham would hold on, if Kaveh agreed to stay. 

 

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” said Kaveh.

“Why is that?”

“Well, it’s such a romantic concept, rather than a rational or a logical one, that you of all people probably consider it foolish.”

 

Alhaitham hummed, their hands brushing just for a moment.

 

“I do find it foolish,” he said. “But not because of the romanticism of it.”

“Oh? Do elaborate, oh great scribe.”

 

Alhaitham stopped walking and crossed his arms, Kaveh coming to a stop right after and turning to face him, looking a little surprised that his question was being treated so seriously, but eager to hear the answer. Alhaitham looked him in the eyes, never one to look away, especially from Kaveh, when it came to this topic.

 

“The idea that there is one person out there made for you, perfect for you in every way is not only stifling, unrealistic and impractical, it’s also lazy.”

 

Kaveh’s eyebrows shot up, but there was an interested glint in his eyes as he crossed his arms as well and leaned forward.

 

“Lazy? Some would say that searching for that one person, holding onto hope to find them, would be a good show of perseverance.”

 

Alhaitham scoffed.

 

“Waiting for the one person with whom things would immediately work is not perseverance, it’s an excuse not to put in the work in a relationship. Not to put in the efforts necessary to build something that will last with someone else. Wanting a relationship that would automatically be perfect without putting in the work is the epitome of laziness.”

 

Kaveh looked at him in silence for a moment, something almost like wonder painting his features.

 

“I take back my words,” he said, truly a rare occurrence. “It really wasn’t the romanticism of it that was bothering you. I’m impressed.”

 

He quickly recovered, though, and leaned back on his heels to observe him as he brought out a different point.

 

“What if you’re looking at it from the wrong perspective, though? Yes, perhaps there are those that want a relationship that’s so easy, they don’t have to put in any effort. I think that’s true even without the consideration of soulmates. However, what if soulmates are actually about potential? Here are two people who could make each other the best version of themselves, if they just try enough, if they don’t give up on each other. What if soulmates were a chance, only a chance, one you could lose if you didn’t hold onto it, didn’t try hard enough? That wouldn’t really be lazy, would it?”

 

Alhaitham looked at him for a long, long moment, to the point that Kaveh started fidgeting, shifting from one foot to the other but refusing to back down. Finally, Alhaitham chuckled, very low, and his eyes crinkled, just a little.

 

“That is a very nice concept, I’ll admit. Perhaps I could consider soulmates being worthwhile, in that case.”

 

Before Kaveh could puff up in triumph, he continued.

 

“However, in that scenario, it’s very likely for people to simply lose their soulmates, or even to drive them away. Being pushed to be the best version of yourself is no easy feat, and many people would rather stay in a more comfortable mediocrity, or simply not be able, or ready, to face what “becoming better” entails. And what would, exactly, becoming the best version of yourself entail? The best version for yourself? The best version for others? Or maybe even what you think is the best version? How would you know? Supposing a soulmate can help you become, indeed, the best version of yourself. Would you accept their input, if it didn’t match with what you thought was the best way to proceed? Would you accept their help?”

 

Alhaitham’s gaze stayed focused on Kaveh’s, even though the latter had blanched drastically.

 

“Or would you run away?”

 

Kaveh said nothing, but he didn’t look away either. After a long moment, he chuckled as well, just a short exhale devoid of amusement.

 

“You paint a rather harsh picture, as usual. But you’re right. It would be easy to lose a soulmate in that scenario. It would be the work of a few seconds. But in the picture you described, there are still two people. Decisions were made on both sides. Perhaps those people you talked about weren’t ready, perhaps they ruined what they could’ve had. Perhaps it’s too late for them.”

 

Alhaitham would have answered, would have denied, if Kaveh’s gaze hadn’t pinned him in place.

 

“But Alhaitham,” he said, unaware of the rapid, uneven beat of the scribe’s heart, of the way his next words held it hostage, ready to fly or to fall. 

 

Kaveh looked Alhaitham in the eyes.

 

“I want to believe in second chances.”

 

And Alhaitham’s heart soared. 

 

---

 

They’d arrived at their destination when Alhaitham took note of how silent Deshret had been the whole time. If, however, he concentrated enough, emptied his mind, he could feel the part of his mind that no longer belonged to him. The part where someone else dwelled, trying slowly to infringe, to grow, to overtake. 

 

Deshret was distracted. Alhaitham could catch glimpses of thoughts, most of them either incomprehensible or too fast to understand, but he could understand some. The first thing that was to him, was that Deshret was insane. There was an underlying madness in every thread of thought, a pervasive, vacillating feeling. He could see it sometimes, what Deshret planned to do with his body. The things he fantasized about. In the god’s fantasies, he could often see two figures. One he’d never seen himself but that induced an intense feeling of grief, a grief beyond his comprehension, of which he only caught the edges. The other, he recognized also. He would recognize Kaveh anywhere. And if he ignored his own feelings when Kaveh came to mind, what he could feel from Deshret was not only a rejection, a strange desire for possession… but a murderous intent.

 

And Alhaitham’s own intent sharpened.

 

They were back home by sundown, both lost in their own thoughts. They ate together and went to bed early, sharing one last look. They both had many things to consider. 

 

---

 

The night air was fresh, the cooling breeze felt comfortable, the stars were shining, and Kaveh was drunk. Alhaitham sighed as he once again adjusted the arm of the drowsing architect around his shoulders, also supporting him by the waist, grateful for his own physical regimen. Kaveh may look lithe and delicate, but the man was packing a surprising amount of muscle, which was heavy, and his height didn’t lose to Alhaitham’s. 

 

“Why’re you so tall…” muttered the architect, head hanging down.

“You’re just as tall as I am,” replied Alhaitham, rolling his eyes. “You just have a terrible posture.”

“No!” exclaimed Kaveh, head raising up suddenly and almost hitting Alhaitham in the chin. “You’re supposed to be small! Smaller than me! Like this!”

 

And he put one hand at his waist, demonstrating Alhaitham’s supposed ideal height. 

 

“I have never, even when we met, been that much smaller than you.”

“But it felt like it! You’d follow me around, call me senior Kaveh, you were so cute back then. So small. So squishable. Then you grew up.”

 

Kaveh glared balefully at him.

 

“It’s all this height’s fault! You weren’t like this before you grew taller! You should’ve stayed small! Like a… like a…”

“Like a child?” Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.

“No! Like… like a bug.” Kaveh nodded resolutely.

“A bug,” he deadpanned.

“A cute bug! Always buzzing around me.”

“At no part in my life will this have been an accurate description of me. Never.” 

“Well, maybe not outwardly,” Kaveh conceded, head falling to the side heavily. 

“Then? Because I assure you I was not buzzing inwardly either.”

“But you were!” Kaveh waved one hand around, suddenly animated. “I could see it in your eyes, you were happy to see your senior, and you would share your thoughts with me about what you’d read, the things you’d learned and the things you liked. Even the things you found useless, what you wanted to change.”

 

Alhaitham listened silently, keeping them walking forward, but then Kaveh slumped, pulling him down as well. 

 

“Now, you’re never happy to see me anymore,” the blond lamented. 

 

Wallowing, he didn’t see the incredulous look Alhaitham shot him.

 

“Perhaps, senior ,” he said, looking down at him, “you’re just blind to most things of importance, as usual.”

“What?!” Kaveh’s head shot up, eyes shining angrily. “Is this really the time to mock me? I’m saying I miss you!”

“And I’m saying I’m right here. If you’re not blind… maybe you’re just not looking.”

 

Kaveh didn’t respond, and Alhaitham resigned himself to this being just another time they walked around the issue without actually addressing it. 

 

“You’re right. I’m not looking.”

 

Alhaitham stopped walking, turning his head to look at Kaveh, who kept his face forward.

 

“We can’t all be like you, Alhaitham, be right about people all the time. You always see through everyone, through me, so easily. But what if I’m wrong? What if I look, draw the wrong conclusion, and then it’s ruined again? What if I ruin us again?”

 

Alhaitham’s mind flashed back to years ago, to tear-filled eyes and the furious, hurt twist of a so lovely mouth. 

 

“Understanding people doesn’t always mean anything. If you’re careless, or overconfident, understanding can be a double-edged blade.”

 

He felt Kaveh’s eyes on him, and changed the subject back to what’s important. 

 

“But if you start looking, Kaveh, truly, I doubt there’s much room for misunderstanding, even for you. I’m… not exactly being subtle.”

“What do you mean, even for me?!” Kaveh snapped, focusing once again on the wrong thing. “See, this is the problem, Alhaitham! Maybe you’re not being subtle, by your standards, but you’re certainly being rude about it, which detracts from the whole thing!”

 

… He may have a point. But, Alhaitham thought as he watched Kaveh puff up in irritation, how was he supposed to resist causing something so cute?

 

“If you need someone to be nice to understand what they’re saying, it’s a wonder you got this far. Then again, maybe it explains some things.”

“You…! I’ll have you know it’s got nothing to do with being nice! It’s about addressing the most urgent thing, which is you insulting me every other sentence!”

“Not only are you even more sensitive than I thought if you think those are insults, but your sense of priorities may also be skewed. Then again, we already knew this.”

“Not this again…”

 

Kaveh, still draped over Alhaitham’s shoulder, sighed impatiently. Seeing this, Alhaitham felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, and turned his head so Kaveh wouldn’t catch it. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it. The silhouette of someone dancing, golden hair flowing in the wind, body moving along an unknown rhythm, horns rising above their head. Her head. In a moment, his world shrank to the flow of her steps, the sway of her hips, the curve of her lips. Her eyes were closed, but he knew them by heart, burned in his memory. No matter how much time had passed, how much he’d lost, he wouldn’t forget. No matter who he was, who he became, Deshret would always—

 

“Alhaitham.”

 

Alhaitham came back to himself with a jolt, eyes wide and searching as they fell on Kaveh’s (Kaveh, Kaveh, Kaveh ) face. Every place where their bodies touched was searing, but he tightened his hold on the architect’s waist. Kaveh’s eyes (his eyes they were—) were searching, his face openly concerned even still flushed with alcohol. 

 

“Where were you?” he asked.

 

Alhaitham took a while to answer, focusing himself on all his senses to ground himself in reality once more.

 

“Where?” he finally said. “I’m right here.”

“No you weren’t. You went somewhere, for a moment. You were… far away.”

 

Alhaitham thought of the endless sand he saw in his sleep, of the faces of strangers he knew by name, of memories too vast to properly sort. He did not think of her . 

 

“There you go again,” whispered Kaveh.

“I’m sorry,” said Alhaitham, blinking back to himself. “I suppose I’m a little tired. My mind… wanders.”

 

Kaveh didn’t say anything, simply looking at him with eyes too sharp for someone who must still be drunk. In an uncharacteristic display, Alhaitham tried to lighten the atmosphere, in order to turn the conversation away from this subject.

 

“You say I went somewhere, but I’m back. After all, what would you do if I left? You’d have to find someone else willing to carry you back at unreasonable hours.”

 

Just as he found himself displeased by his own words, something changed. Kaveh straightened, no longer leaning on him, and stood head to head in front of him. There was no trace of drowsiness or intoxication on his face, only a slight flush on his cheeks hinting at his inebriated state. 

 

“You’re not leaving,” said Kaveh, gaze heavy and intense and fixed into Alhaitham’s eyes, shortening his breath. “I won’t let you.”

 

There was something in his expression that had Alhaitham pausing, his heart stuttering for a second. Something that made a peculiar desire rise up in him. He licked his lip, watching Kaveh’s eyes drop, then rise back up to meet his. 

 

“And if I don’t want to leave?” the scribe asked. “What if I want to stay?”

 

This was a strange reversal, some rational corner of his mind remarked. He’d always been the one trying to get Kaveh to stay, to want to, to choose to stay, but perhaps this was fine too. If Kaveh wanted him to stay, wasn’t it one step closer to admitting that he wanted them both to stay, together? Sober Kaveh might not admit it, but this wasn’t some drunken rambling, and Alhaitham, at least, would keep this memory. A drunken demand would never come close to what he wanted from Kaveh, but it was a start.

 

Kaveh looked at him in silence for a few seconds before, slowly, raising his arms to cup with both palms the sides of his neck, just under his jaw, fingers threading in the hairs at his nape possessively. He held him like this, soft but firm, perhaps unaware, perhaps not, of how Alhaitham, in that moment, placed himself entirely in his hands. Everything he was, cradled in his palms, hanging onto his next words.

 

“Then I’ll keep you,” Kaveh said, shattering something inside Alhaitham and building it anew. “Alhaitham, will you keep me too?”

“Yes,” Alhaitham breathed. “Yes, Kaveh, if you’ll allow me to, yes.”

 

His heart was hammering in his ribcage. There was elation, and there was grief, for as much as Alhaitham would treasure this moment always, chances were he would be the only one to remember it. 

 

Kaveh smiled, something beautiful and fragile, and with a soft sigh, dropped his head onto his shoulder.

 

“I want to go home,” he said, unknowing of the shiver that went down Alhaitham’s spine every time he used that word to refer to their house. The scribe doubted he would ever get used to it, but he longed for the opportunity to try. 

 

“Then let’s go home, Kaveh.”

“You’ll still be there in the morning?”

 

Alhaitham smiled.

 

“I will, I promise. I’ll even wake you up, if you want me to.”

“No… Don’t wake me up… Just be there when I come out of my room.”

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

 

Kaveh probably wouldn’t remember any of this, but that was fine. Alhaitham would remind him, eventually. Maybe even in the morning, if he felt like seeing Kaveh’s red face early in the day(he would). 

 

As they walked home, Kaveh still leaning on his shoulder, Deshret’s voice echoed in his mind, for the first time in a while.

 

“This is not a promise you will keep. You should prepare yourself for it.”

 

He ignored it. No one, not even gods, knew how far Alhaitham would go to keep a promise to Kaveh. To go home to him.

 

Still, his fingers tightened around the architect’s waist. Foreboding wasn’t enough to shake his resolve, wouldn’t even dent it. But. He glanced down at the head of golden hair under his jaw.

 

Perhaps some things were worth it. 

 

---

 

“Alhaitham, be a dear and help me with my hair, would you?”

 

Alhaitham loved those words. He hoped to hear them every time Kaveh even lightly struggled with his hair. He would offer to do it always, but that would be too much, wouldn’t it? It would indicate… something. But the fact is, he loved doing Kaveh’s hair. He’d even gotten good at it, with all the times he took a small mistake as an excuse to start over and spend more time carding his fingers through soft strands. He would never pass up the chance, no matter the small complaints he made each time after dropping whatever he was doing to come over.

 

“Do it yourself, I’m busy.”

 

They both froze in shock. Kaveh because he’d gotten used to Alhaitham indulging him with this and wasn’t expecting a rejection, and Alhaitham because it simply wasn’t what he had wanted to say. Kaveh recovered first, ignorant as he was of the gravity of what just transpired.

 

“You’re reading, as you always are, that’s not being busy. Come on, it’s just a few minutes, you can afford that, can’t you?”

“What I can’t afford is someone who can’t take a hint and leave me well alone.”

 

Kaveh recoiled a little, hurt visible on his face for just a second before he schooled it to offended nonchalance. 

 

“You could have just said no,” he sniffed, “but message received.”

 

With that, he turned and stormed out of the house without even finishing to do his hair, as obvious an indicator as could be that he wasn’t unaffected. 

 

And Alhaitham tried to go after him, tried to call out his name, but it was like something was holding him in place, stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth. 

 

“He’s not the one you want,” came Deshret’s voice in his ear, or what felt like it. “Let him go.”

 

Alhaitham wanted to clench his fists, wanted to fight, wanted to scream. All he could do was breathe. 

 

---

 

They didn’t talk about it. Kaveh came home that evening with his hair tied back in a low ponytail, and they didn’t talk about it. Kaveh acted normal, and it didn’t happen again, but Alhaitham didn’t allow himself to relax. He couldn’t forget the feeling of losing control, of his body being unable to follow the commands of his brain. Of being unable to go after Kaveh, unable to call him back. This was no longer simply uncomfortable, it was alarming. He would have to speed up his research, and consider seeking outside help. Nahida would certainly be willing to help him, and what better way to deal with a god, long past as he was, than with another god? 

 

But for now, he had plans to consider, and other, more mundane, problems to deal with.

 

Alhaitham eyed the door of the study from over his book, and sighed. Kaveh had gotten a burst of inspiration yesterday afternoon, and hadn’t come out since. Not for dinner, not to go to bed, and not for breakfast. It was now almost noon. 

 

Resigning himself to this duty once more, he put down his book and got up, considering the best method to force the architect out of his lair. But before he could move, there was the sound of rapid footsteps, closer and closer, until the study’s door slammed open to reveal a disheveled, but triumphant Kaveh. He was grinning, eyes alight with an almost manic sort of glee, and there was nothing soft about him in that moment, only the sharp angles of his smile and the glint of his focused gaze. 

 

Kaveh was pretty. Gorgeous, even, Alhaitham knew this, had known this since he’d first seen him. But ‘pretty’ wouldn’t have been enough to catch his attention, wouldn’t have kept it, ensnared it and made it impossible to forget him. ‘Pretty’ would have gotten a glance, and no second one, just as any other unremarkable peer. Kaveh, however, was impossible to look away from. 

 

There were numerous reasons why Alhaitham and Kaveh had become, well, Alhaitham and Kaveh , why they were so intertwined, why they always looked at each other before anyone else. Alhaitham couldn’t pretend to know all of Kaveh’s reasons, but this, this was one of his. 

 

In triumph, Kaveh was incandescent. 

 

Alhaitham had seen it back then and he saw it now, the way Kaveh shone his brightest when his mind was unclouded by insecurities and doubts, his brilliance turned only toward the vision he would bring to life. He’d seen it further since, in smaller, more intimate moments, where Kaveh seemed to glow from within as he let himself be without all the expectations he took upon his shoulders. Those had grown rarer with time, and Alhaitham treasured every occasion he got to witness it. 

 

“I’ve got it!” was what Kaveh said upon spotting Alhaitham, still standing in the middle of the room.

 

The architect was in front of the scribe in a few quick steps and, in his enthusiasm, put one hand on his waist and the other in Alhaitham’s, and started twirling him around in what could almost be called a dance.

 

“Kaveh—” Alhaitham started to say, trying not to trip over his own feet, heart hammering in his ribcage. 

“It was right in front of my eyes!” continued the other while guiding him into a few dancing steps around their divan. “It’s the stone-laying! The traditional techniques we use here work great on almost anything, but they fall short in isolation. But since the client sought me out for the style I’m known for, I can’t just abandon it. However, there’s this technique that originated in Snezhnaya that, if I combine it with ours along with a little tweaking of my own, then it should—”

 

Had Alhaitham not been used to quick changes in his field of view from teleporting, he would’ve gotten dizzy by now from all the spinning Kaveh had led them into. Still, it really was only a matter of time. In his defense, he’d never danced before, and was more than a little distracted by having Kaveh so close to him, almost blinding in his enthusiasm.

 

He tripped.

 

It only took one foot moving in the wrong direction, and then his legs were tangling together and he was falling forward. Kaveh let out a surprised yelp even as Alhaitham instinctively twisted them so he would be the one hitting the ground, and then he felt Kaveh’s hands cradle the back of his head just before the impact. He grunted a little, relieved Kaveh had also tucked his head into his chest so they could avoid knocking into each other. And then Kaveh lifted his head, locking eyes with him, and these thoughts vanished from his mind. They were pressed together intimately, legs entangled, and he could feel Kaveh’s breath against his lips from above. It would take so little to kiss him, he could almost feel it already.

 

“Get off,” he said. “You’re not as light as you think you are.”

 

He would not make Kaveh uncomfortable.

 

Immediately, Kaveh reddened in offense, puffing up in that adorable way of his. He started to get up, grumbling all the while, and accidentally put a little pressure with his thigh on Alhaitham’s groin. Alhaitham himself stayed perfectly still, but thankfully Kaveh moved away quickly enough so that he didn’t feel the twitch that occurred between his legs. Alhaitham breathed deeply.

 

He would not make Kaveh uncomfortable. 

 

“You could have just told me to get up,” mumbled Kaveh angrily. “You didn’t have to be so rude about it.”

“You only think of it as rude because you’re too sensitive, it’s something you should work on. You can’t keep getting offended every time someone tells you something that you don’t agree with.”

“Anyone would have gotten offended by that! Plus, it’s not even true, I know my own weight perfectly well, as well as the fact that you can lift me without problem. Also! No one else is as rude to me as you are! They’re all perfectly nice!”

 

Alhaitham spared a thought to Kaveh thinking about being lifted up by him, then responded.

 

“If they’re all nice, all the time, then they’re certainly not as honest as I am, and probably want something from you.” 

“Ugh, not everything is always about hidden intentions, you know, sometimes it’s just about being nice, to make the other person happy.”

“It makes you happy, being lied to?”

“You…!! Why do you assume that when someone is nice to me, they’re lying about it?! Can you not think of a single nice thing about me that would be true?”

 

Kaveh’s voice started to falter toward the end, and Alhaitham immediately backpedaled. This wasn’t the direction he’d intended for this discussion to go. 

 

“Well, um, rather, weren’t you telling me about this new technique you were about to invent?”

 

Kaveh lit up again, to Alhaitham’s relief. But just before the architect could resume his technical rambling, Alhaitham felt his mouth move without his own input. 

 

“Because I’d really prefer you keep this meaningless blabber to yourself, I don’t have the time, or the interest for it. If you’re going to bother me, find a reason that’s not insignificant.” 

 

Silence fell. Alhaitham, trapped inside himself, seethed. Not only was this cruel, with no reason or meaning for it, probably unraveling efforts he’d made in making Kaveh comfortable with him in their home, it was a lie. As Deshret’s presence in his mind grew stronger, he’d started to feel things from him, stray thoughts and emotions getting through to him. They were foreign and he recognized them as such, but they still reached him. And when Kaveh had started talking about his plans, he’d clearly felt Deshret’s interest rise, forgetting for a moment his disdain of Alhaitham’s feelings in lieu of his own curiosity. Kaveh’s words had been of interest to Deshret. He’d simply wanted to hurt Alhaitham’s beloved. 

 

“I see.” Finally said Kaveh, much more subdued. “I understand. Sorry for bothering you.” 

 

And then he turned around and walked back into the study, closing the door behind him, leaving Alhaitham unable to move in their living room.

 

“You will not move until it is too late,” said Deshret, “or until I know you will not go after him. There is nothing for you with him. Nothing for us. ”

 

Alhaitham stayed there a long time. Until the light outside receded, and the streetlights came to life, until Deshret finally forced his body to go to bed. Kaveh did not emerge from the study. 

 

Under the sheets, Alhaitham felt cold. Was it still his own body, was it still him, if he did things he would never do himself? Sleep, when it came, was now familiar in its loss of control. It did not feel peaceful. 

 

---

 

He’s standing in the desert, next to an oasis larger than he’s ever seen, the water flowing freely into a river that continues beyond him. There is a sandstorm on the horizon, and the palace of Alcazarzaray looms in the distance above the sand dunes. He only knows all of this instinctively, because he has not taken his eyes off the figure in front of him, smiling.

 

“Haitham,” Kaveh says, beckoning him forward.

 

And Alhaitham tries, he does, but none of his limbs obey him, a cold sensation seeping into his chest. Deshret’s presence keeps him immobile, unable to even clench his fists. This is not who Deshret wants, and so Alhaitham will not move.

 

Slowly, Kaveh’s face falls, and Ahaitham hurts.

 

Kaveh waits still, for a few seconds more, and Alhaitham wants to scream. Then, with no response coming, the other’s face hardens, eyes going cold. Alhaitham struggles, but it goes unnoticed. 

 

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” Kaveh says.

 

Alhaitham tries to flinch, but Deshret’s hold on him is absolute. Still, as he tries again to speak, the vision in front of him changes. Flowers he doesn’t recognize, in a hue of purple he’s never seen, bloom around Kaveh. Winding around his ankles, growing up to his shoulders, softly swaying in a wind he doesn’t feel. The hair changes too, falling down to his waist, horns growing on his head, and the face, the face is different. He recognizes it, though he wishes he didn’t.

 

The eyes stay the same.

 

Deshret’s hold loosens, and something about it… trembles. Still, he cannot move. But now, he knows, neither can the god-king. And when the vision speaks, the voice is double-toned, breaking both their hearts at once.

 

“I’ll never forgive you for this.”

 

---

 

Alhaitham jolted awake in cold sweat. Kaveh’s voice, her voice, they still resonated in his head, along with the disappointment, the resentment that laced them. Would Kaveh come to look at him like that, speak to him with that voice? Could he do anything to stop it?

 

Even Deshret was silent, and Alhaitham could feel the god-king was unsettled. 

 

But before either of them could recover, a sudden feeling washed over him, the awareness of something, somewhere, far away, a pool of power and maddening grief. And it was breaking. 

 

“Ah. Finally,” Alhaitham had time to think, before Deshret howled. 

 

Alhaitham bent forward, clutching his head in his hands. The mad king’s fury echoed inside him, sending tremors into his limbs and making him keep his eyes clenched shut. Still, with all this discomfort, was the tiny, hidden sense of triumph. He'd been chipping at it for a while now, it was time it paid off. Then it was snuffed out, like every other thought Alhaitham had other than what Deshret needed in this very moment.

 

He stopped by the door on his way out, in the entrance hall. Just for a moment. He listened closely, but there was no noise coming from anywhere in the house. 

 

He left. 

 

Even with all his might, he could do no more as his body moved without his consent than clench his left fist, and keep it that way. It was his last show of control. It wasn’t difficult to get to Caravan Ribat, and even easier from there. Eremite guards stepped aside for him without a word, handed him a horse without even a question. The people of the desert bowed out of his way, murmuring prayers under their breaths. Alhaitham’s body worked without fatigue, without hunger, without even thirst, sustained by an energy he could feel rising from deep within the desert. He had become an instrument to Deshret’s will, honed to be as efficient as possible. But even as his body moved fluidly, he knew that should he stay in this state for too long, there would be no turning back. His left fist stayed closed. 

 

Alhaitham himself, a passenger within his own body, was… lost. He was clinging to his own thoughts, the last proof of his own existence. Memories were not to be trusted, muddled as they were by an overwhelming amount of years and years spent as someone else, somewhere else, in another time. Who was Alhaitham, compared to a god? What was Alhaitham’s life, next to thousands of years of existence? Quickly, the sand was eroding everything he was. Had been. So he gathered his most important pieces, the core of who he was, and held on. He curled his own mind protectively around it, possessively protecting the vestiges of something he knew had been precious. 

 

He was barely conscious of the travel, nevermind the time, until purple flowers came into his vision. Deshret himself stopped to admire them, before walking faster towards the end of the tunnel. And then there was the sun.

 

It was red. 

 

Alhaitham’s body did not stop once it finally walked into the oasis, even with the surreal image it painted in front of them. Waterfalls flowed upwards, trees rose back from the ground before collapsing down again, red light from the sky bathed everything in an ominous glow. And the lake. It was rising, water crawling up the ground slowly but surely, rolling over plants that grew on the bank. Even so, the surface stayed completely, unnaturally still. In the distance, surrounded, was the island. Would the water eventually cover it as well, or would it simply crumble into sand?

 

It was this thought that made Alhaitham’s body start to run. There was something frantic about the energy that filled him, an urgency that came from Deshret himself, that consumed him. Enough so that Alhaitham regained some sense of self, of control, finally. There were still feelings and images coming from Deshret, a longing so intense it breached into pain, a hope like teeth latched into flesh, a single-mindedness strong enough to control and use otherworldly powers. A figure, elegant and distant, standing next to a throne. Turning, slowly, towards them, features almost revealed. Waiting. After so long, he was almost there. 

 

Deshret reached the island, and it was empty. 

 

Alhaitham’s feet let him up higher, and the god-king fell to his knees before the abandoned thrones. There was no one here, there had never been anyone here. There would never be, and soon it would fall apart. His head fell back, face toward the sky, and for a breath he was silent. Then his mouth opened, and from his throat came a sound that shattered the uneasy stillness, full of a madness so powerful that it widened the cracks in the enchantment surrounding them. Soon those cracks would spread, until the whole thing simply fell apart. 

 

Fell apart, along with everything surrounding it in an almost desert-wide radius. This oasis was teeming with power, almost bursting with it, from both Deshret, and the divine nail used for its creation. Its destruction would not be gentle. 

 

As Deshret raged and mourned, Alhaitham took a deep breath. Emotional fragility was a weakness easily exploitable, even in gods, it seemed. He flexed his fingers, relishing the movement, even as Deshret’s chaotic thoughts filled his mind. There were words, but there were also flashes of countless incomprehensible, unsettling images that sent trembles into his whole body. Never had he been more aware in the past months of having another being in his head, even when they were conversing, when his body had not been his to control. His own thoughts were now simply a speck in the loudness within his mind. But there was still enough of himself for this. No matter how much of himself remained, there would alway be enough for this. He was Alhaitham. 

 

He brought his left fist, still tightly closed, in front of him and slowly uncurled his fingers, one by one. Then he let out a long sigh, his mind quieting for a brief, blissful moment. In his palm, the little lion head lay alone, without a key, for its owner would need it still. Softly, he brushed his thumb over it, lost in the much-desired memories flooding him. For Alhaitham, there was only ever one path here.

 

“You deserve a happy life,” he said, barely above a whisper. “And I will give it to you.”

 

And just for a second, by those words, even Deshret was silenced. Just a second.

 

It was enough.

 

With an unwavering will and a dextrous mind, Alhaitham seized control of the divine power from Deshret’s hands. They were his own hands, after all, and it was his own head that Deshret had been sharing for weeks now, unaware that just as he observed Alhaitham, Alhaitham observed him in return. And learned. The whole way here, Alhaitham saw, felt , the way Deshret would call upon his own power, use it according to his own will. But that will was also now Alhaitham’s, and while Deshret’s mind was in tatters due to his own madness, Alhaitham’s had never been so clear. If Deshret left this place, with Alhaitham’s own body, Kaveh would die. Alhaitham had once arranged the ruin of a god for less than that. He could do it again. 

 

And so, without hesitation, he turned that power inward. To corrupt, to destroy, until there was nothing left. Deshret would never have let him put an end to them both with ordinary means, but with his own power, wielded with their own hands, it could succeed. He could not escape, for this was the vessel he was bound to, his own reincarnation, with every right to this power as long as he could control it. And Alhaitham had always been a very fast learner, even without any incentive as important as this. So Deshret roared and raged and bashed against Alhaitham’s control, against his mind, until the two started to merge, more than ever before, but he never succeeded. 

 

Alhaitham-and-Deshret looked up at the sky, at the birds slowly starting to move again, at the lacerations in the once-perfect blue, and knew they could not stop the devastation. With their own power turned to killing the remains of a god, there was nothing left to soften the blow. They closed their eyes, and hoped not too many lives would be lost. Alhaitham’s determination did not waver. They stayed there, blind to what was happening around them, locked in an inner battle that consumed them wholly.

 

And then there were steps. 

 

Deshret-and-Alhaitham locked onto the sound, momentarily distracted from their struggle. Their body did not move, however, stuck as it was between the two forces. They could only open their eyes, slowly. The only thing they saw, at first, was desolation. Trees uprooted, rocks split open, cliffs crumbling down, the very sky ominously now only an upside-down reflection of the below. And the water. The water was absent, leaving only an empty crater behind. 

 

The steps were getting closer, and the part of them that was still Deshret the god-king trembled with anticipation. Perhaps he’d been wrong. Or rather, perhaps he’d been right before, and simply hadn’t waited long enough. Perhaps she was here, after all, coming to him after all this time. The part that was still Alhaitham did not think anything at all, focused on more important things. 

 

Finally, the steps stopped right behind them, whoever this was staying still for a few seconds. Just as Deshret was about to fight for the control of the body, to be able to turn and look at them, they walked around their form, and Kaveh kneeled in front of them. 

 

“What have you done now,” he sighed, a peculiar lilt to his voice.

 

Alhaitham-and-Deshret looked at him in shock, both frozen to their core by his appearance, by the way he bore the devastating power currently eroding this place at an incredible rate. No human should be able to breathe in such an environment, but the part that was still Alhaitham did not care.

 

Kaveh should not be here. Kaveh should be safe, far away from this place crumbling into dust and taking everything close with it. He could not be here. Alhaitham could not allow it.

 

The part that was still Deshret was looking at something else. At something he’d never been able to see before, something he’d been blind to.

 

But before they could act, before they could speak, Kaveh smiled. And their breath caught in their throat, something like a premonition freezing their heart. They still could not move.

 

Gently, Kaveh cradled their face in his hands, and the part of them that was still Alhaitham felt the power he’d gathered faltering, slipping from his grasp. His love smiled, and his eyes were the same as they’d always been, but now, they recognized them.

 

“I trust you,” Kaveh (was it still Kaveh? It was, it was, but—) whispered, then turned away and got up, walking without hesitation toward the eye of the storm.

 

As he walked, names started to spill from his lips, an endless stream laced with an old power, almost forgotten, almost gone. But not quite yet. They recognized them, they’d known them, once, had commanded them, after—after— 

 

But they’d never been their true master. The Jinn, after all, had only ever loved one god.

 

Kaveh stepped onto the shore, then continued down the slope of where water used to be. He walked a little further still, until he was in the middle of the raging winds, cracks forming in the ground around him, the rocks trembling. But he stood firm, voice never wavering. When he stopped speaking, the energy that had been building up with every name saturated the air, almost electrifying. Kaveh raised an arm, slowly, fingers dragging forward like they were pulling threads, like he could feel the power he was calling up, after all this time. The tension rose along with Kaveh’s arm, almost tangible, as he parted his lips again.

 

“Will you honor me once more?”

 

And then it snapped.

 

In a burst of light, spectral forms rose from the ground, descended from above, flew in from every direction. Soundless, voiceless exclamations of delight echoed around them, reflected in the joyous way they all whirled around Kaveh’s body, recognizing him beyond the flesh. And then it was flowers. The vegetation from the shores started to grow at an astronomical rate, to shift, to move. Roots burrowed into the cracked ground, buds rose above the earth, bloomed toward their own source of light. For the first time in millennia, padisarahs grew and swayed in the wind. And Kaveh, the source of this chaos, this miracle, slowly started to sway along, feet sliding into a spin, to follow a choreography older than himself.

 

In the middle of the devastation, he danced. And there were no horns on his head, but the flowers listened still. There was no long, flowing hair, but the Jinn celebrated all the same. This was Kaveh, Lord of Flowers. And for the first time, Deshret’s and Alhaitham’s hearts beat the same rhythm.

 

That’s when they felt it. The power around them, the furious howling of the wind and the rumble of the earth… calming. The destruction itself slowing down, like it was running out of steam when it had just been picking up speed. Another power coaxing the raging energy to settle down, to rest, to sleep. And it succeeded.

 

But Alhaitham-and-Deshret, whose eyes had never left the dancing figure in front of them, saw the consequences of that victory. As Kaveh turned slowly, gracefully, his feet stopped following. Then his legs. Quickly creeping up his torso, stone was immobilizing him before he could finish dancing. Without any sign of fear or struggle, he raised one arm over his head, his whole body reaching up toward the sky. But at the last second, it was them he chose to look at, and smiled. 

 

There was a statue in the oasis, and it was beautiful. 

 

The sound that tore out of Alhaitham’s throat was not human. He forgot about everything, about his plan, about Deshret, and shakily rose to his feet. He did not notice the beings of light around them bow, one by one, and then disappear. Eyes locked on the frozen figure a few steps away, he stumbled forward. He almost fell at the sudden dip between the shore and the lake bed, but pressed on without once looking down. 

 

Once in front of it, he searched desperately with his eyes for any sign of life, for a breath, a pulse, the smallest movement of the lids. In vain. 

 

Shakily, he reached out with one hand, gently cradling Kaveh’s cheek and caressing the skin (the stone) with his thumb. Alhaitham stayed like this for a long moment, simply gazing at the beloved face. 

 

“I refuse,” he whispered.

 

Then, louder, angrier.

 

“I refuse!”

 

He needed to think. 

 

(His rage turned cold, bottomless, aimed at the presence inside his mind, the source of all of this)

 

He needed a plan, courses of action, the smallest hint of a possibility.

 

(Despair and desperation clouded his mind) 

 

He needed to THINK.

 

(He would do anything, anything —)

 

Deshret, mind more stable and impenetrable than ever before, took partial control. He raised their other hand, and held Kaveh’s face in-between them, silent. Slowly, he leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together, and breathed deeply.

 

“We are the same,” said Deshret in his mind, and this time, Alhaitham did not bother denying it. 

“Divine power made him like this,” he said instead, voice almost steady. “Divine power can bring him back.”

“It would take everything I have, everything I am.”

 

Alhaitham said nothing, he waited.

 

“I did it once for my people. I can do the same for my love.”

“He is not your love,” Alhaitham said automatically, then regretted it. He could not risk Deshret changing his mind.

 

But instead, it almost felt like the god-king was smiling.

 

“Yes, you are right. He is your love. My love and I, we ended in a tragedy.”

 

Alhaitham felt the power swell inside him, Deshret summoning forth everything he had, and took hold of it to shape it the right way. Fingertips practically sparking with divine energy, they softly, tenderly brushed the pad of their thumb along the corner of Kaveh's left eye, blindly staring forward. How wrong it was, for it to be so dull, instead of sparkling with so much life it seemed to be overflowing. 

 

“It will not happen again.”

 

Together, they poured everything they held into the body of stone, along with all the desperate, illogical hope that kept Alhaitham from breaking down. This would work. It had to. 

 

And so, in the middle of a destroyed oasis, divinity bleeding away from them, Alhaitham held Kaveh as stone slowly started to crumble, revealing soft skin beneath. In the aftermath, they stayed in each other’s arms, hearts slowing down and breaths mingling.

 

“Why would you do this?”

“I told you, I trusted you.”

“Don’t ever do this again.”

“I won’t have to. They’re gone, can you feel it?”

“... Yes. They both spent all of their power.”

“Alhaitham… let’s go home?”

 

Alhaitham tightened his hold, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes to look into Kaveh’s.

 

“Yeah. Let’s go home."

---

 

It took a day to come back to Sumeru city, with a night spent in Aaru village. They’d arrived in the afternoon, and by evening they’d barely moved from the couches they’d collapsed in. Alhaitham, book in hand, basked in the silence of his mind and in just having Kaveh close. Finally Kaveh got up, stretched and wished him goodnight, turning to walk away.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Kaveh looked back at him, seeming confused.

 

“To my room? To sleep?”

 

And, well, Alhaitham hadn’t meant to presume, but. He’d thought, he’d hoped, that they were past separate bedrooms at this point. But perhaps he’d been presumptuous, and he felt the thought like a weight in his chest. 

 

‘This is enough,’ he thought to himself, looking at Kaveh standing close, in the same house, with the promise of seeing him tomorrow, and the day after that. It was enough. 

 

The problem was, when it came to Kaveh, Alhaitham wanted. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted. Always more.

 

“... I see. Goodnight then.”

 

He would not make Kaveh uncomfortable. Kaveh looked at him a little longer, like he was trying to see through him. Alhaitham turned a page.

 

“... Goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

 

Alhaitham hummed, then waited until Kaveh was out of sight to turn back the page. He hadn’t finished it.

 

Perhaps he should’ve said. Maybe it was time, after all these years, to clearly tell Kaveh, instead of letting his actions speak for themselves. Kaveh tended to respond in kind, and had thus far been reciprocating in actions, but he would also never acknowledge Alhaitham’s feelings if they were not stated clearly. He had understood that. Kaveh was protecting himself, the same way Alhaitham protected himself by not voicing them out. 

 

Not for fear of being rejected, although it would hurt, but for fear of Kaveh leaving. 

 

He heard Kaveh washing up, then go to his room, and stayed on the divan. He was content. This was enough for him, loving Kaveh was enough for him. Kaveh was here, with him, looking at him and sharing his thoughts with him, and Alhaitham could look at him, take care of him and listen to him. He was content. 

 

Then Kaveh came out of his room again and marched toward him in his sleepwear, looking soft and vulnerable even with the determined look on his face, and Alhaitham ached with want. He should be satisfied. He knew he never would be. 

 

Kaveh stopped in front of him, hands clenching and unclenching, biting his lips. It made them even redder than they already were, and Alhaitham’s eyes lingered on the indents left by his teeth. He also wanted to leave teeth marks on Kaveh. (Kaveh had been his first kiss, years ago. Each other’s first kiss. His only kiss. Maybe Kaveh regretted it since, but it was one of Alhaitham’s prides to have been Kaveh’s first) Lost in thoughts, he almost missed what Kaveh said.

 

“Alhaitham! I’d, um, from now on, if you also want to, I’d like for us to… to wake up together. Every morning.”

 

Would Kaveh look good waking up? He’d never seen it, other than when he fell asleep at his desk. Probably never would.

 

“Sure,” he said, distracted.

“S-sure?” stuttered Kaveh, looking flustered for some reason.

“Yes, coordinating our schedule will be difficult, but with a little discipline, I’m sure we can manage to get up at the same time. Why, did you want to join in my morning exercises?”

 

Kaveh stayed silent for a few seconds, seemingly at a loss for words. Then he tried again.

 

“No, Alhaitham, I… I also want us to go to bed… together.”

 

Alhaitham frowned, one half of his brain focused on the idea of what Kaveh looked like sleeping, the other concerned about his own sleep schedule.

 

“That would be difficult,” he said. “I cannot go to bed at the same time as you when you work well into the night. Besides, why would the time I go to sleep at concern you? Not only do you go to bed later, you sometimes keep me up with your noise. So I suppose, on those occasions, we already go to bed together.”

 

Kaveh pressed his palms into his eyes and groaned, to Alhaitham’s confusion. But his movement caused his shirt to ride up, exposing a sliver of toned stomach that Alhaitham eyed without remorse. Kaveh put down his arms and Alhaitham looked back up.

 

“Fine. Okay. I get the message.” Kaveh sighed. “Don’t forget to empty the sand inside your boots outside, or you’ll complain tomorrow. I’m going back to my room.”

 

For some reason, this was what made Alhaitham crack.

 

Rejection won’t kill him. As long as Kaveh stays. 

 

“Don’t you think we’re a little past separate bedrooms?”

 

Kaveh seemed startled, pink dusting his cheeks, and he looked away after a few seconds, pouting a little. 

 

“What, you want to make me sleep on the floor?”

“Kaveh.”

 

Alhaitham watched his roommate’s adam’s apple bob up and down, his arms coming up to cross on his chest defensively.

 

“I didn’t want to assume,” he finally said. “You didn’t seem very interested just now, and just because Deshret and Nabu Malikata were in love doesn’t mean—”

“Kaveh,” Alhaitham cut him off. “I just spent the last month constantly at war with King Deshret because I loved you too much to let you go. He couldn’t accept that I was in love with someone other than Nabu Malikata, while I rejected the possibility of being in love with someone other than you. You never left my dreams, Kaveh. At this point, please assume.”

 

Kaveh looked at him, wide-eyed.

 

“Well,” he managed to say, voice a little unsteady, “now my confession seems a little lame.”

 

Alhaitham frowned.

 

“What confe—”

“I love you.”

 

Alhaitham’s voice caught in his throat, and he tried to swallow, to no avail.

 

“I love you,” repeated Kaveh, eyes firm and his back straight. “And I…I want us to be together. I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it but if you’ll have me—”

 

Alhaitham got up and cradled his face in his hands, foreheads touching in a pose reminiscent of a much more difficult moment.

 

“Kaveh,” he breathed. “I’ve always wanted you. I’ve always… I’ve loved you since we were practically children. Any way you would have me, I would take. Anything you give me, I would take. Never doubt it.”

 

Tears rose to Kaveh’s eyes, but didn’t fall. Instead he raised his chin, looking at him defiantly.

 

“Well, I want all of you, Alhaitham. And I’ll give you all of me. What say you?”

 

Instead of answering, a brilliant smile lit up Alhaitham’s features, stunning Kaveh for a second. Then, entirely unable to stop himself, Alhaitham dove forward to finally feel Kaveh’s lips for himself, who immediately reciprocated. Between kisses, they breathed words of adoration, promises, and pleas. They kissed until Kaveh almost fell backwards from Alhaitham pressing into him, desperate for more contact. Kaveh broke away, laughing, and escaped when Alhaitham chased after his mouth.

 

“Kaveh…” Alhaitham groaned, and Kaveh pecked his lips comfortingly. Alhaitham was immediately placated, and Kaveh saw himself doing this a lot in the future.

“I feel a little hot,” he murmured. “Would you come into my room and help me take some things off?”

 

Alhaitham’s eyes flashed, and in a second he had his hands under Kaveh’s thighs and lifted, Kaveh instinctively clinging to him with a little yelp. He went red at what he felt firmly poking his ass.

 

“My room,” Alhaitham said. “The bed is bigger.” Then, as an afterthought: “There will also be enough space in the closet when you move in.”

 

Overwhelmed, Kaveh leant forward to hide his face in Alhaitham’s neck, then took the opportunity to press kisses all over the skin.

 

Alhaitham walked faster.

 

---

 

“Wait, what did you mean when you said ‘your confession’? And that I didn’t seem interested?”

“Alhaitham, what did you think I meant when I said I wanted us to go to bed together and wake up together? Because I certainly wasn’t talking about sleep schedules.”

“... Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Now, don’t you have more important things to focus on? Like the fact that your head is between my legs?”

“I don’t know, this thigh is very comfortable, I think I could fall asleep here.”

“So you don’t want me to return the favor in the morning?”

“Right away, my love.”

 

---

 

Much later, as Alhaitham breathed in the scent of Kaveh’s hair, holding him close, his mind wandered back for a moment to the way it had felt to have the memories of King Deshret so present, to know who the god was on the deepest level, to have felt his consciousness. 

 

Deshret’s madness, whether it had only started because of the forbidden knowledge or had taken root at the loss of the Goddess of Flowers or even before, as he fell in love with her, truly ran deep. It was undeniable. It revolved around Nabu Malikata, willing and eager to change or destroy anything for her. Without morals, without virtue, without hesitation, only the all-consuming desire for her happiness, her attention. A truly frightening thing that knew no bounds, nor time, nor death.

 

Tightening his hold on Kaveh and pressing his lips ever so softly to the crown of his head, Alhaitham breathed. Safe, happy, and free from the influence of the long-dead king, he finally allowed himself an admission.

 

They truly were just the same.

 

 

Notes:

Aaaaaaand that’s it. Thanks for reading!

 

meme time

Kaveh: do you believe in soulmates
Alhaitham: no
Kaveh: I think we’re soulmates
Alhaitham:
Alhaitham: actually—

 

Deshret: *has the hots for kaveh, thus decides to kill him*
Alhaitham: sometimes you just have to go apeshit

 

Kaveh: you’re never happy to see me anymore
Alhaitham: *bombastic side-eye*

 

Kaveh: *acts assertive and possessive while drunk*
Alhaitham: boy I sure hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

 

Alhaitham: *leaves without a word with a plan to sacrifice himself*
Kaveh: I have the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever