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“This edible really ain’t all that”, Kaveh says.
Tighnari eyes him, unimpressed. It’s not very confidence-inspiring, that look of his, but Kaveh will say what Kaveh has to say. And he wants to say that it’s been 30 fucking minutes already and Nothing. Is. Happening.
“I thought this stuff was supposed to make you super calm or whatever? Or like, inspired, at least? I could do with some of that right now. Seriously, maybe wine would be better than this—”
“Just like you to be wine-ing,” Cyno says, and both Kaveh and Tighnari groan.
“I’m not high enough for this yet,” Tighnari says. Kaveh runs with it.
“Like I said! Wouldn’t we be much better off at Lambad’s getting plastered and having fun? I literally feel no difference at all!”
“Yes, we can see you’re exactly the same as usual,” Tighnari mutters under his breath, and Cyno barks out a laugh, and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?
“500 mora he gets absolutely fucked up later,” Cyno nods at Kaveh.
“Excuse me—”
“1000 it happens within 15 minutes,” Tighnari says, smoothly ignoring Kaveh’s protests.
“Ugh,” Kaveh scoffs. “You have absolutely no faith in me. There is no way I would get absolutely fucked up—”
***
He gets absolutely fucked up.
Tighnari wins the bet. Kaveh is losing in every other aspect of life.
“Why does Alhaitham have to be so fucking handsome,” Kaveh whines, running his fingertips through a cool feather he found. It’s blue, and pretty. Maybe he should keep it.
“I think this might be worse than drunk Kaveh,” Cyno comments. Tighnari just shrugs. “Free…entertainment.” He’s speaking so slowly, like a slug.
“Fuck you, I’m not entertainment,” Kaveh prostests. His voice sounds so weird, like he’s underwater. “But I am entertaining, unlike Al—”
“Lalalala,” Tighnari sings.
“Let the man speak,” Cyno drawls. “I’m curious to see where this goes.”
“Same as usual! Alhaitham blah blah, handsome blah blah, I hate him blah blah.”
“I don’t hate him,” Kaveh says, and they both whip their heads round to stare at him. Or rather, they both turn their heads as fast as someone under the influence of some hefty recreational drugs can.
“Ahh.” Tighnari’s face is unreadable. “Then how do you feel about him?”
Kaveh frowns. He doesn’t hate Alhaitham. At least he doesn’t think so. You don’t stay with people you hate, right? You don’t put off looking for a new apartment because you can’t bear the thought of leaving the one place that finally feels like home, not just yet? Not that he does that. He’ll find a new place soon. Just…when he has more mora. Soon.
Well, not hate, then. Dislike? Sometimes. The man is infuriating, on purpose nonetheless. Like? Also sometimes. He can be oddly…kind at times. Surprisingly gentle, though he acts like it would kill him for it to be acknowledged as such.
No other relevant L words here.
“I want to fuck him,” Kaveh announces proudly.
Tighnari does a spit take. He’s not drinking anything, but it somehow happens. Cyno’s eyes widen, which for him is saying a lot.
“Or he can fuck me, I’m not picky,” Kaveh continued. “Or both. Oh my god. I am a genius.”
Cyno and Tighnari are both staring at him. Kaveh shrugs happily and gets back to his feather. He sticks it in his hair. It probably looks so cute.
“I’m hungry,” he announces, but Cyno and Tighnari are still looking oddly shellshocked. Kaveh can’t think as to why. Alhaitham is hot, and though he can be a jerk, there’s no denying he’s insanely attractive. Half the Akademiya secretly wants to fuck him.
“No they don’t,” Tighnari says, and oh, did he say that out loud?
“Yes they do,” Kaveh says, petulantly, because arguing with Alhaitham has fucked with his debate skills more than he’d like to admit. “He is hot, objectively! His abs are unreal, the hell, why does he need those? And his biceps? So ripped and for what? To torture me? His eyes are gorgeous, like gems, and I want to paint them. His hair is silver like a steel palette knife yet so so fluffy? Like a rabbit's fur. Sometimes I ruffle his hair on purpose just to touch it. ”
“O…kay,” Cyno says slowly, like he’s trying not to spook a prey animal. Kaveh doesn’t like his tone one bit. Tighnari’s gaze is fixated somewhere in the distance, something Kaveh chooses to ignore, because who knows what Tighnari’s ears have picked up this time.
“He is hot, and that’s a fact,” Kaveh says, decidedly.
“Who is hot?” Says a voice, drawling, annoyingly familiar. There’s a warm hand on Kaveh’s shoulder and he likes it, he decides, until he slowly turns his head and sees who it belongs to.
“What the f—”
“Beautiful use of language, Ksharewar,” fucking Alhaitham says, and Kaveh wants to die, but he also wants to keep staring at the stupidly stupid face in front of him. Because it’s kinda handsome. And stupid.
“Why are you here,” Kaveh says rudely, because he deserves that much at least when faced with someone as infuriating as Alhaitham.
“To pick you up,” Alhaitham says, and it’s sweet for a moment, until he opens his mouth again. “Because you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself.”
“You—!” Kaveh gives up halfway through his sentence. “I wanted to spend more time with Cyno and Tighnari,” he says, pouting, and Cyno barks out a laugh.
“That’s okay,” Tighnari says, “I think we’ll be just fine.” There’s a little lilt on “fine” that Kaveh does not notice but Alhaitham does.
“That’s settled then. Come on, senior,” Alhaitham says, grabbing Kaveh’s arm to pull him up, and Kaveh lets him (it’s not because he was all too soft and wobbly right now to use his strength; that would be stupid. And untrue.)
Kaveh lets Alhaitham drag him out of Cyno’s cute home, lets Alhaitham wrap his arm around him, lets his weight slump onto Alhaitham’s shoulder. It’s not everyday Alhaitham is this obliging; he might as well make the most of it, until the next time he’s dumped under a tree again.
They’re silent as they walk back home, Kaveh looking around everywhere, distracted by the trees and the birds and the butterflies and the dappled light on Alhaitham’s face.
“So who did you call hot,” Alhaitham says suddenly, and Kaveh laughs.
“You’re so funny,” he says, but Alhaitham doesn’t reply. Doesn’t stop Kaveh from laughing, though; Alhaitham does look funny like this, brow furrowed not from concentrating on an engaging book, but from Kaveh.
“Answer the question,” Alhaitham says.
High Kaveh is not dissimilar from drunk Kaveh, or even normal Kaveh, for that matter; just a little more loose-lipped, a little more languid.
Perhaps that is why he looks Alhaitham in the eye, says, “You, dummy”, and smiles, before turning to look at the flowers on the side of the road.
Alhaitham is quiet for a few moments.
“Do you really—”
“Oh my god, Lambad’s,” Kaveh says, apropos of nothing, because high Kaveh is also a lot hungrier than normal Kaveh. “Haitham, aren’t you hungry? I’m famished. Let’s go eat. You can treat me since I’m being so nice to you.”
“You really aren’t,” Alhaitham says, finally, but he doesn’t refute the part where he’s going to treat Kaveh, so it’s a win in Kaveh’s book.
“I’m so serious,” Kaveh says, and drags him to the tavern.