Archive of Our Own ^beta

He’s so pretty I could cry.

The thought startles both of them. With no discernable source, it’s—weird, to say the least, that they’re both sitting at the kitchen table and then a disembodied voice started talking.

“Alhaitham?” Kaveh’s asking, “do you know what that was?”

“Maybe we’re being haunted,” Alhaitham suggests, because what had been said out loud was disturbingly close to what he’d thought about Kaveh just a few seconds prior.

“You don’t believe in ghosts,” Kaveh points out, and, fair point.

Archons, I love him.

Again, the voice rings out through the air. The source of it seems to emanate from every part of the room, and Alhaitham has a sinking feeling in his chest because he thinks he might know what’s happening.

And if it is happening, then—then he’s absolutely fucked. Needs to get out of Sumeru and dig himself a grave in Snezhnaya kind of fucked.

“There it is again,” Kaveh murmurs, “What could it possibly be?” He’s lost in thought, twirling a strand of hair around his finger and biting his lip, eyes fixed on a corner of the room in the way that means he’s thinking hard about something, and Alhaitham should be contributing something to the conversation, but all he can think is—

I want to kiss him. I want to hug him. I want to cuddle him to death.

In quick succession, the words float through the air, and Kaveh blinks.

“Just to make sure I haven’t gone insane,” he says slowly, “you’re hearing this too, right?”

Alhaitham has two choices. Claim ignorance and leave Kaveh to figure this out by himself, except he doesn’t know if anyone else can hear these thoughts, and that option comes with Kaveh realizing that since they’re the only two people in this room then the thoughts clearly come from Alhaitham.

The other option is to agree, and spend the next few days trying to find a solution to the problem with Kaveh when he is, in fact, the problem itself.

Suddenly, Alhaitham stands up from the kitchen table. “I have to go,” he says, and powerwalks out of the house despite Kaveh’s indignant yells for him to come back.

He finds Cyno at his house, knocking twice before stepping back and waiting, and a few seconds later, Cyno’s there, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, because Cyno is a freak of nature who goes to sleep at eight in the evening if he doesn’t have any work to do.

“Is Tighnari here?”

“Not even a hello?” Cyno asks, but he moves aside to let Alhaitham into the house. “What do you need him for?”

“A consultation.”

Staring, and then evidently deciding that he’s not awake enough to deal with whatever Alhaitham’s going to bring up, he leaves him in the living room and then Tighnari walks out of their study a few minutes later, clearly more awake than his husband.

“Alhaitham? It’s not like you to come by this late. What’s wrong? Is Kaveh okay?”

At the mention of Kaveh, Alhaitham thinks I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about, and waits.

Nothing happens.

“Alhaitham?”

Shaking his head, Alhaitham speaks. “Sorry for the bother. I’ve just been made aware of a curse on me.”

“Curse?” Tighnari’s ears twitch, and he leans forward. “What happened?”

“I suspect it was the ley line disorder earlier this week,” Alhaitham says, “that’s the only thing it could’ve been. I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary since then.”

“And what are the symptoms?”

Alhaitham pauses. “It might not sound real.”

“You still have to tell me.”

Alhaitham sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I…my thoughts are being broadcasted.”

For a moment, Tighnari pauses. “Excuse me?”

“My thoughts. Whatever I think seems to be said out loud in real life. I tried it just now, but it seems like it’s my thoughts about only one person that actually make it… outside.”

“I see,” Tighnari says, eyebrows raising, “And, er, maybe try thinking about that person? As a test?”

Alhaitham thinks, Kaveh’s going to yell at me when I go back.

And lo and behold, the thought echoes around the room, making Tighnari jump slightly in the seat and look at the air with wide eyes.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, “No source at all. And thoughts about Kaveh only?”

“Yes,” Alhaitham confirms, and feels it pertinent to share the fact—“It started in our kitchen. I thought about kissing him, and he heard it.”

“Does he know it was you?”

“No, not yet,” Alhaitham says, “though he might have figured it out by now.”

Tighnari stares at him. “And what’s the problem? Just tell him what’s happening?”

“He’d be uncomfortable. And he’d move out and wouldn’t ever want to see me again.”

Tighnari sighs and drops his head into his hands. “Lesser Lord Kusanali give me strength,” he mutters under his breath, but just as Alhaitham’s opening his mouth to argue, he looks up. “At this point, I’m tempted to not help just so you and Kaveh will finally get your shit together.”

“Excuse me?”

“This whole thing,” Tighnari says, waving his hand, “seems like a good opportunity to let Kaveh know of your feelings. You wouldn’t even have to do any extra work.”

“This is invasive and bordering on harassment.”

“Like you buying ugly furniture to piss him off isn’t harassment on the regular,” Tighnari scoffs, and stands up. When Alhaitham looks up at him, Tighnari rolls his eyes. “I haven’t heard anything about something like that before, so it’ll take me a while to research. Maybe talk to Lesser Lord Kusanali if you can—thoughts and dreams are her domain, after all. And in the meantime, good luck with your confession.”

And then he’s promptly shoved out of the house and left to walk home in the middle of the night—and when he gets back, Kaveh’s pacing in the living room, worrying his lip, and whips his head up to stare at Alhaitham just as he walks through the doorway, and damn near vaults up over the couch to get to him.

“You!” Kaveh yells, pointing a finger in his face, not even letting Alhaitham shut the door, “Do you know how worried I was? When we just started hearing voices and then you just suddenly rush off like that?! Archons, at least give me an explanation before you leave like that, what were you thinking? You’re lucky I guessed you were probably going to Cyno’s to talk to Tighnari or else I would’ve hunted you down—”

Archons, I love him.

This thought stops Kaveh in his tracks, makes him stare at Alhaitham with wide eyes—because he has to know, because the voice disappeared when Alhaitham left and now that he’s back it’s resounding through the air again, louder than before, and Kaveh would be an idiot not to understand him.

“It’s… coming from you, isn’t it?” he says softly, eyes flickering over Alhaitham’s form, above his head, “These… thoughts. You’re thinking them?”

“Maybe I’m the one being haunted by a ghost,” Alhaitham tries. Kaveh raises an eyebrow at him, and it makes him sigh as he bends down to remove his shoes and put them on the rack. “Yes. Before you ask, I think it was a ley line disorder, but Tighnari didn’t have anything for me.”

“I don’t think that’s his area of expertise,” Kaveh says, following him to the living room, looking for all the world like he’s just moved in again, awkward and quiet like he thinks Alhaitham is going to kick him out if he breathes wrong. “I… Alhaitham…”

“If these are about the thoughts,” Alhaitham says, “they’re true. I don’t… I won’t apologize for feeling this way. But—I do apologize for their imposition on you.”

“You think it’s an imposition on me?” Kaveh laughs, sounding just the slightest bit hysterical, “I just—it’s the opposite of an imposition on me, Alhaitham, to hear that.”

Alhaitham wants to reach out, curl his finger around the strand of hair that’s escaped Kaveh’s bun and tuck it back behind his ear, and unfortunately, that thought doesn’t stay contained in his head either.

I want to hold his hair back for him.

And now that he knows that these thoughts are about him, Kaveh blushes a pretty red, looking away from Alhaitham, grumbling something under his breath about stupid scribes and their stupid thoughts, and Alhaitham’s so endeared by him he doesn’t realize the meaning of Kaveh’s words until a few seconds later.

“The opposite of an imposition?” he echoes, “You like this?”

“Well, yeah!” Kaveh says. He’s psyching himself up to say something, eyes darting back and forth anywhere that isn’t Alhaitham’s eyes, and then he finally bursts out with—“Of course I like it! Of course I like that someone I’ve loved for years feels the same way about me!”

Alhaitham’s breath catches in his chest.

“You…?” He’s so hesitant. He’s normally never this hesitant. Alhaitham likes to think himself sure of most things in life, and the things he was unsure about could simply be solved with more knowledge and persistence, and otherwise, he really couldn’t care. The only thing special in his life came with Kaveh, who shone bright as a star but burned out just as fast, and then their friendship was in ashes and Alhaitham thought he couldn’t have it back.

Until Kaveh moved in, and it had taken months to get them into any sense of normalcy, and even then, it had been tense and awkward between them, jabs too sharp and words too hesitant like they were still looking for solid common ground between them to stand on.

It’s only recently that they had properly fallen back into old habits and ended up spending more time together, sniping back and forth at each other with lighthearted jabs that neither of them took offense to. Alhaitham had aggravated Kaveh on more than one occasion, but it’s one of the new parts of their friendship that neither of them had seemed to mind too much, despite Kaveh’s ongoing frustration with him.

And so, to hear that Kaveh’s loved him for years—it soothes something in his chest, lifts a weight off him—that Kaveh had loved him, even when they’d parted ways.

The thought gets translated into spoken word in a much more concise form.

I thought you hated me.

“Oh, Alhaitham,” Kaveh says, eyes softening, and then he’s there, in Alhaitham’s space, with a hand cupping his cheek, and Alhaitham leans into the touch greedily. Kaveh’s long fingers are cool against his skin. “I—I was angry, and annoyed, and I hated that you were right in some parts, but—but I never hated you. I could never hate you, even when we didn’t talk anymore. I loved—I love you too much, for that.”

Alhaitham doesn’t reply. Closing his eyes, he lists to the side a little, and is almost surprised at the hand Kaveh holds up to hold his waist to steady him. His palm is warm, even through Alhaitham’s nightshirt.

I wish you’d hold me forever.

Impossibly, Kaveh’s eyes soften further. “Oh, Haithoomi,” he murmurs, “you’re really.. really something special.”

The nickname echoes in his head for an indefinite amount of time. There are no thoughts being spoken aloud because his head has completely frozen and he doesn’t think he’ll get his mental facilities back in a week, let alone in enough time to respond to Kaveh.

Except there’s a shrill ringing sound outside his head, and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s from him, what sounds like a continuous row of exclamation marks. Kaveh’s laughing softly even as he winces at the volume, and Alhaitham can’t help it—he leans in.

Kaveh catches onto what he’s going to do immediately, and his eyes grow wide. Alhaitham pauses, just for a moment, just making sure, and then Kaveh tilts his head up, parting his lips just the tiniest bit, and Alhaitham—

Gives in.

Presses a kiss to Kaveh’s lips, just like he’s wanted to do for the majority of his life.

The outside is blessedly silent when Alhaitham draws back, just a bit. Kaveh has his eyes closed, but he flutters them open after, looking up at Alhaitham with something like wonder in his eyes.

And then he pulls Alhaitham down for another kiss. His hand on Alhaitham’s cheek is something soft and holy, and Alhaitham finds himself curling a hand around Kaveh’s wrist to keep him there. His other hand finds Kaveh’s waist, lightly resting a hand on it in fear of Kaveh disappearing before his eyes.

“Stupid,” Kaveh whispers into the space between them. “You’re not getting rid of me.”

“Nor you, me,” Alhaitham says, and he must sound winded, enough that Kaveh huffs a pretty laugh, and kisses him again.

Tighnari was right, he concludes. He’ll have to thank him the next time they meet.