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It has been years since Alhaitham has last seen Kaveh. He's as stunningly beautiful as ever, even if bags sit deep under his eyes and his face is gaunt. An empty expression has made itself a home in those crimson irises, as if Kaveh has truly given up.
He's drunk, of course. It's clear he's been in the tavern for most of the night. When Alhaitham slides into the seat opposite, Kaveh does not appear to recognise him. With an audience now present, and the influence of alcohol to slacken his tongue, his story pours out from his lips. He lost everything. He has nowhere to go.
“So come live with me.”
Kaveh looks at him then, really sees him for the first time. Alcohol has always sliced through his kindness, let the cruelty he shoves down so deep finally escape the chains. The haze clears from his eyes somewhat as he regards Alhaitham, replaced by something more calculating.
“Look at you, playing the saviour,” Kaveh says tauntingly. Alhaitham refuses to break eye contact, refuses to let him win. “You think I don't see what you're doing?” He leans forward, grinning. “I know you want me back. I know you miss me. Nothing you ever do comes from a place of kindness.”
“You don't have any other options,” Alhaitham replies steadily, even if Kaveh’s words are yet another stinging blow.
Kaveh chuckles lowly at that. “Taking advantage of me in my darkest hour just so you can pull the strings again? I'd say that's despicable, but that's just standard for you.” His smile widens. “You're sorely mistaken if you think I'll give in just like that, anyway. Because I know you, Alhaitham. I see your cards. You're desperate. You'll do anything to have me again.”
“Name your price.”
Kaveh's eyes widen at that. He stares at Alhaitham, stunned. “Have you lost your mind at last, Haravatat?”
Alhaitham folds his arms across his chest, waiting.
Kaveh's eyes unfocus as he considers Alhaitham's offer. He's not one to take, usually. Kaveh gives and gives until he does not even have crumbs left for himself. But with Alhaitham, Kaveh has always been gluttonous. He can afford to be; he knows the power he wields. Once upon a time, he would never have leveraged it against Alhaitham, but it seems he has grown even more unstable over the years.
He's a man with nothing left. Self hatred is, ironically, the only thing sustaining him. He lives to spite himself, to continue to drag himself over the hot coals that are his sins. It is tragic. It is pitiful. But what is even worse is Alhaitham’s willingness to bring the monster Kaveh has become into his home.
“I have one condition,” Kaveh says at last.
“Consider it done.”
Kaveh smiles. He stands, and Alhaitham follows.
“Come on, then,” Kaveh says, taking Alhaitham's arm in a mockery of the way he once would have. “Let's go home.”
***
Sumeru's Kaveh is a good man. He would sacrifice anything for a stranger, knowingly fund a scam because he refuses to see anything but the best in others. Anyone who has encountered him speaks of his generosity, of his gentle nature and freely given smiles. He is the Light of Kshahrewar, the sun that shines down on Sumeru City.
Alhaitham's Kaveh is the man beneath the mask. A man who has held a brand to his heart until it is nothing but ashes that sit lifelessly in his chest. He does not smile, and neither does he bother with the cloak of kindness that covers up his self destructive pursuits.
The proof sits around Alhaitham's neck. That had been Kaveh's only condition for moving in. By day, they are simply Sumeru's most dysfunctional pair of roommates, the tragic tale of two men whose friendship was shattered by their pride. But when evening falls, Alhaitham belongs to Kaveh. And when he dons the collar, it is in the knowledge that this is what he has chosen. When he lies under Kaveh during one of Kaveh's many sleepless nights, it is because that is what he wanted. Kaveh takes, and Alhaitham gives, because he loves.
There was an awkwardness to it when Kaveh first moved in. He is still as argumentative as ever, but back during their time in the Akademiya, he had at least only been so in the spirit of debate. Now there's genuine fury in it, the scratch of a thousand thorns. If Alhaitham didn’t know the truth, he would have said Kaveh truly despises him.
But just a few months in, Kaveh had struck, the way a cat does after it has been watching a mouse for a while. Alhaitham had expected that. Welcomed it, even. It’s no secret that Kaveh is an attractive man. There are many in Sumeru who would give anything for a chance with the Light of Kshahrewar. Alhaitham is, tragically, no exception. He had yielded immediately. He’s no better than his desires, after all.
“You're doing so well for me,” Kaveh croons now. Alhaitham lets out another sound, as Kaveh thrusts deep within him again. “Keep talking to me, Haitham. I love it when you talk to me, my darling.”
Kaveh is sweet to him when they do this. He is cold, distant, unreachable the rest of the time. Alhaitham gives himself to Kaveh willingly at times like these. He wants Kaveh, as much as Kaveh wants him.
Kaveh's tongue wanders over his chest. He licks languidly over Alhaitham's nipple, biting down just enough to sting. Alhaitham moans again, and Kaveh rewards him with a slow, deep kiss. He sucks on the other nipple, flicking it with his tongue, relishing the obscene sounds he elicits from Alhaitham. “There's a good boy. Just like that, Haitham.”
Alhaitham's muscles strain against Kaveh's hands pinning down his arms as Kaveh's thrusts slow down, giving way to languid strokes that have him teetering over the edge. He aches to deal with his own, very pressing, needs, but he knows Kaveh won't let him.
Kaveh is always careful, so careful when they do this. He never pushes and he will outright refuse to have sex when he senses Alhaitham is simply agreeing to agree. Their relationship is broken beyond repair, but this is Kaveh's love for him. He'll never open himself up to Alhaitham again, but he will still cook their meals. He'll still rearrange the furniture and fill the house with whatever additions he deems necessary. He will still take Alhaitham like this, play lovers again.
“Won't you sing for me again, Haitham?” Kaveh asks him sweetly as he fucks over Alhaitham's prostate. Alhaitham gasps.
“Kaveh, please, I need-”
Kaveh smiles, his hand wrapping around the base of Alhaitham's cock. He likes it when Alhaitham pleads, he says. Alhaitham knows why. Knows it gives Kaveh a sick kick to hear him sound like that. But he threw his dignity away a long time ago for this man, shed his ego just so Kaveh would look at him again. Kaveh has conquered him, and the thought doesn't disgust him as much as it should.
Alhaitham groans as Kaveh strokes upwards in agonisingly slow, lazy motions, his thumb grazing over the head. He picks up the pace at Alhaitham’s broken pleas, laughing quietly at the spectacle of Alhaitham debauched. “Kaveh, I'm going to-”
“Go on, come for me, my darling,” Kaveh whispers into his ear. Alhaitham's vision goes white. Kaveh fucks him through his orgasm, murmuring sweet nothings as Alhaitham writhes beneath him.
“Good boy,” Kaveh says, his free hand ghosting over Alhaitham's stomach, now covered in cum. Alhaitham groans again.
“I'm close,” Kaveh tells him. He's calm. He's always calm. In every other aspect of life, he is like a summer storm, bulldozing through anything in his path. But he is always cool and collected in the bedroom, no matter how powerful his desire.
“Inside,” Alhaitham says simply. Kaveh kisses him, and Alhaitham drinks in the feeling of Kaveh's soft lips pressing against his.
“Are you sure?” Kaveh asks.
“Yes,” Alhaitham murmurs, and he feels Kaveh smile against his mouth.
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” Kaveh says, picking up a new rhythm. Alhaitham can only lie there, wretched sounds pulling themselves free of his mouth, as Kaveh fills him. Cum drips out of him, staining the sheets, as Kaveh slowly, gently, pulls out.
He sets Alhaitham's legs down onto the bed and goes to fetch a cloth. Then he slowly, meticulously, cleans Alhaitham off, as carefully as a lover might have done. It hurts. Not the sex, because Kaveh would never hurt him like that. No, the afterwards is always the worst part, because this is Kaveh as he truly is. Not the man who works himself to the bone for his clients, not the man who willingly gives his last coin to the undeserving. Not even the broken Kaveh that Alhaitham is so familiar with, a man so blindingly cruel one wonders how he and his daylight self could ever be one and the same. That Kaveh has Alhaitham wear the collar because he loves to watch Alhaitham’s pride crumble. Loves to see Alhaitham on his knees for him at long last.
It’s true what they say, Alhaitham reflects. The kindest people have the most twisted of demons.
These moments of Kaveh’s genuine love are so brief, and they’re all the more painful for it. Chasing them is like chasing after a dream; they slip between Alhaitham’s fingers every time. Yet he still holds on, because he knows that the Kaveh he fell in love with is still in there somewhere.
They lie together in the aftermath, Kaveh's arm thrown over Alhaitham's stomach. He nuzzles against Alhaitham's neck, sighing as he fingers the collar that Alhaitham never removes while they are at home.
“Why do you continue to wear this?” he asks.
“It was the agreement.”
“That may be so, but I've long forgiven you, Alhaitham,” Kaveh says quietly. There is no joy in it. He sounds exhausted. “I do not stay because of your promise. I stay because-”
“Because?” Alhaitham asks, turning to face him.
Kaveh is beautiful. A god amongst mortals. He is the most sought after man in Sumeru by men and women alike, and he knows it. But he's never truly entertained anyone else. Kaveh has admitted to Alhaitham before that his previous partners mean as little to him as virtue means to the Abyss. His carmine eyes are hesitant as they gaze upon Alhaitham now, softer than they have been in years.
“I love you,” Kaveh admits. He reaches out and undoes the collar, throwing it into a corner of the room. His fingers brush against Alhaitham's neck gently.
Alhaitham closes his eyes at Kaveh's touch, content simply to lie there as Kaveh kisses apologies over the area where the collar had been sitting.
“I love you,” Kaveh murmurs again, and Alhaitham feels something drip onto his face. He opens his eyes. Kaveh is crying, his head thrown back in a futile attempt to contain his tears.
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham says, and Kaveh looks at him. Pain and regret fill his eyes.
“Did you ever want this, Haitham?” Kaveh asks brokenly. Alhaitham knows his answer could destroy him. He could take revenge. Perpetuate this vicious cycle, become the one holding the whip. But he would never do it.
“I did,” Alhaitham says, sitting up. He reaches for Kaveh, who immediately tucks himself against Alhaitham's chest. His sobs are quiet, but they are all the more painful for it. Alhaitham hates to see him cry. “I've always wanted you.”
“Even though I have been nothing but cruel?”
“I understood you were hurt,” Alhaitham says simply. “I was prepared to wait however long it took for you to forgive me.”
“And if I never did?” Kaveh asks, hushed.
Alhaitham shakes his head. “I knew you would.”
Kaveh snorts. “The odds were in my favour, and yet you still won.”
“I always do,” Alhaitham says with a small smile.
Kaveh kisses him again, salty from his tears, and whatever else Alhaitham might have said is lost to the heat of their passion. But then again, they don’t need words. Kaveh has Alhaitham all worked out, and he’s more than fine with that.
Sumeru's Alhaitham is a man untouchable, the subject of countless rumours and legends. But Kaveh's Alhaitham is simply that: Alhaitham, the man behind those fables. The moon to the sun of the city.
There’s a spark of hope in the lingering shroud of the night. For the first time in years, Alhaitham falls asleep to the sound of Kaveh’s quiet, even breaths beside him.