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Kaveh wears a wedding band when he meets with clients. Years of misunderstandings and unwanted advances have led him to believe this is the easiest way to avoid all of that. However, he just built a mansion for his most recent client that is close to rivaling the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Which by itself isn’t an issue, in fact this project has single handedly helped him pay off half the debt the palace put him in. The issue lies in the fact that his client is throwing a huge gala to celebrate, and Kaveh was given very clear instructions. Bring his spouse.
So naturally, when he arrives home and finds his roommate sitting on the divan, engrossed in some book about linguistics, he can’t stop the words that come out of his mouth.
“I need you to marry me.”
His roommate doesn’t even look up from the book he’s reading. He just heaves a sigh while Kaveh fidgets with the hem of his shirt trying to hide his face behind his bangs.
“Kaveh, you can’t even afford this month’s rent at a discount. What makes you think you can afford a wedding?”
“No- I don’t mean actually marry me! That would be insane, I need you to fake marry me.” Kaveh rolls his eyes as if this was obvious. This sentence is finally enough to get Al-Haitham’s attention. He turns to Kaveh, who can’t help but squirm under his scrutinizing gaze, and scans him from head to toe.
Seeming to have found whatever he was searching for he hums and stands up to move toward the kitchen, “Okay then. I’m making sabzi for dinner, by the way. I’ll call you when it’s done.”
Kaveh gapes at him for a minute, shocked he agreed that quickly. He chalks it up to Haitham simply being in a good mood, and decides he doesn’t want to jeopardize that. He pins the invitation to his client’s gala to the fridge so that his “husband” can look over the details and decides he’ll figure out what to wear while he waits for dinner.
The two days leading up to the party go scarily smooth, and now Kaveh is listing off important names that Haitham needs to remember while he lines his eyes with kohl. Haitham stands behind Kaveh, braiding back his hair. Kaveh is skeptical of his abilities at first, but somehow braiding his hair seems like it’s muscle memory to Haitham, even though he’s sure that he’s never let Haitham do his hair. There’s a quick slap on Haitham’s hand when he reaches for Kaveh’s usual red hair pins.
Haitham looks into the mirrored reflection and glares at Kaveh. “I’m wearing purple , Haitham, I can’t wear red clips. Try again.”
Al-Haitham frowns and rummages through the box of colored hair accessories. He starts to take out silver plated pins before catching a glimpse of the scowl on his roommate’s face. He quickly drops it in favor of the gold. Risking another glance, he makes eye contact with a very contented looking Kaveh, who nods slightly at him. The clips slide into place along the braids and with that, Kaveh is done getting ready. So, he stands from his chair and pushes Al-Haitham to sit down in his stead.
“Your turn now! I know you didn’t plan on going like that.” Kaveh started fiddling with his hair, trying to assess anything he could do with it. He thought for a second about trying to tame the one strand of hair that always sticks straight up, but knew that nothing could keep it down. So, he redirected his attention to Haitham’s bangs, “Would it kill you to uncover your eyes for one day?”
He held the bangs that usually cover his left eye, and once Kaveh could see both of his eyes he realized it might not kill Al-Haitham, but it could very well kill him. He dropped the subject and pushed himself away from the man at the vanity. Mumbling quick apologies he excused himself to get his shoes to leave.
The party was in full swing when they arrived, and Kaveh glanced over to his counterpart to ensure he had his hearing aids taking note of what volume they were set to.
“Are you gonna be okay? There’s more people than I expected.” Kaveh signs to him, a language he picked up in the beginning of their friendship to make Haitham feel more comfortable. Haitham simply nods with a small smile, before lazily draping an arm around Kaveh’s waist and tilting his head towards an approaching woman.
“Kaveh! So good to see you, is this the wonderful spouse I’ve heard so much about?”
Kaveh offered up a polite smile, “Alrani, so good to see you again. This is Al-Haitham!” He pokes Al-Haitham in the side, which makes him reach out a hand to shake.
Alrani stares at Haitham for a minute before she speaks again, “So how did you two meet?”
Kaveh opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by Al-Haitham, “We met in Akademyia, a psychology class that I only took because it was required,” he redirects his gaze to Kaveh, “I thought it was a pointless class, but looking back, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
Kaveh hopes the lights are dimmed enough that the heat rising to his face isn’t obvious. Al-Haitham is famously bad at feelings, typically referred to as a “heartless robot” by Kaveh, so where did all of that come from? Alrani clears her throat to gather their attention again, “Well don’t just stand on the sidelines, dance! The night is young, and we have to put this glorious ballroom you designed to use.”
There’s an ensemble dressed in frilly clothes, likely Fontainian, playing a soft symphony. He doubts that Haitham even knows how to dance, and silently curses himself for not teaching him at least the basics to prepare for this. However, Al-Haitham seems to be full of surprises tonight, because he grabs Kaveh’s hand and whisks him onto the dance floor.
Then they’re spinning, perfectly in time with all of the other couples. The chandelier overhead casts light down upon the two of them, and everything else fades away. Even though they’re just doing the basic four steps, it feels like an intricate and amazing dance. Haitham lifts his arm to spin Kaveh around a few times before bringing him right back to the resting position. Kaveh can’t help but laugh, when he’s pulled back into his partner’s chest.
When his eyes open he’s face to face with Haitham, who has a small smile of his own on his face. They’re so close that their noses almost touch, and Kaveh swears he can feel Haitham’s breath on his lips. Kaveh wonders how he’s managing to keep up the waltz steps when he’s so lost in the man in front of him.
He wonders for a second why he thought he could do this. The feelings he’s worked so hard to keep a secret for so many years are threatening to surface, and the music gets drowned out by the pounding sound of his own heartbeat. He thinks his heart might beat right out of his chest when he feels Haitham nudge his nose slightly, as if asking for permission. Kaveh short circuits. He feels his brain turn off and he slips out of Haitham’s grasp to bolt to the door. He thinks he hears Haitham call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.
Everything is a blur, and he doesn’t refocus until he’s outside in the cool air of the night.
“Kaveh! Come inside, it’s freezing out here.” Al-Haitham stands on the steps behind him, his usually gray hair given a blue tint from the moonlight. Kaveh turns to him with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Haitham took the initiative back there, but Kaveh thinks it must be his brain playing tricks on him. He mumbles something under his breath and Al-Haitham steps closer, not hearing what he said. When he gets close enough to see Kaveh’s glossy eyes, he can’t stop the hand that reaches up to swipe a thumb across his cheekbone, drying the stray tears there.
Kaveh leans into his touch and sighs, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” Al-Haitham’s eyebrows knit together, confused.
“If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t have agreed. You know that better than anyone, so where are these doubts coming from?” Haitham doesn’t remove his hand from Kaveh’s cheek, he holds steady to ensure that Kaveh can’t look away from him.
“I know that its all fake but… I’ve never seen you act the way you have tonight, and it’s giving me the wrong idea. Making me think that-” A sharp inhale, “It’s stupid, forget it.”
“Kaveh, please. Talk to me,” His voice comes out more raw than he anticipated, more desperate.
Kaveh raises his shaking hands, willing them to be still enough to portray the words he doesn’t dare say out loud. “You’re making me think I have a chance, that this,” He stops signing to gesture at the space in between them, “could be something more. That I could be someone to you.”
His eyes screw shut, not wanting to see Haitham walk away and leave him alone on the steps. A light tap on his cheek and he opens his eyes, missing the warmth when Haitham pulls his hand away to sign a response.
“Kaveh, you’re everything to me.” There are a million emotions pulling forward on Haitham’s face that Kaveh usually only sees blank. He wraps his arms around Haitham’s neck and hides his face in the other man’s neck. Haitham holds him tight, lest he try to flee again and run from the truth, from their truth.
“I guess now I’ll have to get you a real ring, azizam.” Haitham says, his voice muffled by Kaveh’s hair.
Kaveh pulls back from the hug and lightly pushes his chest, “You haven’t even taken me on a proper date yet!”
“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you asked me to marry you.”
“You- for archon’s sake. You are insufferable, you know that?”
“And you love it.”
“Shut up.”