Archive of Our Own

1. Solace

Kaveh sucks in a deep breath.

Then out.

Omega this, omega that.

Oh, mister omega, have all of your marriage prospects fallen flat?

He taps his foot two, three, then five times—

And he’s still seething at those words of hers, at the sneering tone she used with him. All the work he poured himself into laid before them as she stripped him down bare, raw and vulnerable.

Kaveh felt it. He felt his countless all-nighters get thrown to the riftwolves, and ripped to shreds, because the more pressing matter were his ‘failures’ as an omega. Not his achievements and successes despite being an omega, because at the end of the day, it all hinged on whether or not he had a partner to share them with.

Because at the end of the day, won’t his debts and failures prevail?

The market must be quite competitive, especially for you, an older omega male.

Which brings him here, pitifully sitting out on the wooden steps of their shared home in the cool Sumerian breeze. It soothes the sharp edges of his frustrations and anger, but never quells them. The itch to move and scream is there, but what of it? What good will that do him here? Now?

If he grit his teeth and put up with it then, he can put up with this now.

He’ll let her lord herself over him and act like he’s committed some carnal sin against Celestia itself, so long as he knows it’s not true.

Should you linger a hair too long, mister omega, no one will want you.

But it is true.

He is an unmated omega. Most colleagues his age have gotten mates and she knows it just as well— but still, it doesn’t give her the right to act like his senior. Three children and a mate shouldn’t give her the privilege to speak to him that way.

It shouldn’t.

Or perhaps, that was the point she made.

Fuck.

Head in hands, then knees, those damn words won’t leave him be. Echoing into the far out corners of his mind, only to come back and bite him harder and harder and—

Where’s Alhaitham when you need him?

A shiver rides up Kaveh’s spine. He’s just cold.

He’s told Alhaitham time and time again to leave his damn keys alone, to leave them in their key basket. What use are his reminders if Alhaitham never listens? It’s like it goes in one ear and out the other. You’d think those headphones of his would keep them from escaping, but guess not.

Kaveh lets out a silent laugh to himself.

The sleep deprivation must be getting to him. He still has work to do, drafts to clean up, stresses to calculate and so many others. At least his client today liked the direction the event hall was heading in, so his nights awake weren’t entirely for nothing. Their next scheduled meeting is Tuesday and…

There’s just so much to do.

And honestly? Kaveh doesn’t want to see her again.

He should’ve known, should’ve listened to his gut from the moment she brought up his secondary gender, but he’s in no position to choose. Everything has always been his decision, and he just needs to bear the weight of it.

He has no time to date and find a mate, let alone for himself. When was the last time he’d nested outside of his heats? Every time he tried, the looming guilt of work prevented him from ever truly relaxing. That, and he just felt out of place nesting in someone else's place.

Whether it be the shell of his childhood home, the tavern’s second floor or Alhaitham’s home.

What an omega he is. He’s doing the bare minimum for himself, and he’s expected to handle a mate on top of that? He shouldn’t— no, he just can’t. He has groceries to buy next week, rent to pay Alhaitham, savings to build so he can finally—

“Unfortunate day to come home early, don’t you think?”

The cool air carries incense, warm with a nostalgic quality up to Kaveh, and he just knows. Cool air won’t be enough to soften the edge this time, a worse chill creeps up his spine together with soft notes of florals and ginger.

Creaking his head up, he sees Alhaitham’s ever-irritating expression, and for once, he feels himself splitting hairs between relief and annoyance.

That cocky tinge to his voice wasn’t necessary.

“Need I remind you to leave my keys every morning?” Kaveh rises from their steps to make way for Alhaitham, eyeing his hands as their tangled keys make their long-awaited appearance.

Alhaitham turns to him, humming “Need I remind you that you left first this morning?”

Their door clicks open.

So does the realisation that he’s right.

Some battles just aren’t meant to have a winner, he thinks to himself. There’s no need for Alhaitham to be so smug about it.

Alhaitham heads in without another word, leaving Kaveh in the dust. He joins not long after, closing the door firmly behind them.

On days they come home together (or days Alhaitham takes his keys), they go through pretty much the same motions. Dropping their keys off into their little basket and slipping their shoes and capes off. After that is usually an untold race for whoever gets to the bathroom sink first, making the other one wait their turn.

Except, not today.

Just as Kaveh turns to face Alhaitham, Kaveh notices him standing still in their entryway, cape flung over his arm instead of hung.

“Do you want your cape to wrinkle?” Kaveh says, attempting to reach past Alhaitham to hook on his own.

And Alhaitham stares— bores, even.

“What?” It’s uncomfortable, especially after feeling his client rip him bare. “Never learnt how to hang your clothes up or something?”

A pause. Then, “You’ve soured.”

Ah.

It was that obvious.

Kaveh feels awfully vulnerable now. Thrown right into the thick of it.

That makes twice today.

His hands come up to rub his face, frustrated in how his body has betrayed him. What’s the point in hiding it now? Could he have any less autonomy over his own pheromones?

“Well—” Kaveh scrambles for a good way to summarise how he’s feeling without delving too deep, but nothing. His head’s filled with warning signs, and a mild urge to book it for his room. “Client made some comments about my secondary gender that I didn’t appreciate, so you could see why I’m not entirely in the best of moods.”

Nice and general, isn’t a lie either.

“Had to wrap up the meeting early too, rough day.”

That was unnecessary. The first part should suffice for Alhaitham— but clearly, it doesn’t. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly in something between question and intrigue, “What did she say?”

“Questions. Lots of them.” Fill in the gaps, Alhaitham. What would piss off an omega?

“Just that? Aren’t you well equipped to handle that?” Alhaitham hums.

Well, that’s one way to do it.

“I am—” Kaveh can feel himself blanking under the absurdity of this situation. With the direction this was heading, he’d imagined Alhaitham would ask why his pheromones were so unruly, not make a personal attack against him. “—and I did handle it, doesn’t mean I wanted to put up with it, okay?”

“As evidenced by—”

Kaveh cuts Alhaitham off quickly. “Continue that thought and I’ll offend your uselessly perceptive nose even more.”

“Noted, then.”

“Good for you.” Kaveh says, widening the distance between the two of them.

He half-wishes he’d kept his cape on, not that it would’ve done much to dampen his scent in an enclosed space. Morely, he just feels hyper-aware that he smells upset, and just that must be adding to it even more. It’s probably seeped into his clothes and skin. He’ll have to hand-wash them separately from their clothes, lest it linger.

He wants out of this immediately.

“Is this the client that wanted an event hall?” Alhaitham asks.

Wait— does that mean she could’ve also smelled distress from him?

“Yeah.” Kaveh crosses his arms, rubbing his right forearm. “Didn’t expect you to remember, honestly.”

Kaveh can’t recall how he felt at that moment. He was too focused on keeping his feet planted and smiling away all of her unsolicited questions. If she knows what effect it had on him, then what use was his professional façade?

“You working on it has cost me sleep. How could I not?”

The longer he thinks about this, the more his scent is going to sour. The last thing he wants is to give Alhaitham a face-full of acrid pheromones he didn’t ask for.

“Yeah.”

But then, if she knew, why did she continue?

“Did she like your proposal?”

Did she enjoy his humiliation?

“She did.”

Kaveh feels sick.

“What did she like about it?”

Sevens, please, show him some mercy.

Without it, Kaveh isn’t sure he’ll make it to their meeting on Tuesday. He’ll get through the mountain of work, he can, he can do it all— just that getting through the weekends would mean getting a step closer to Tuesday. And he can’t deal with her again. He shouldn’t have to. He doesn’t want to.

“I don’t—”

“Kaveh. I can see you thinking.”

Just like that, he’s back in their entryway.

Alhaitham stands before him, still holding his cape. Nothing’s happened, and he’s finally home.

He’s getting into his own head a bit too much. “Sorry, sorry. What did you say?”

Alhaitham leans against the entryway wall. “I’m already aware of the fact that you’re distressed, wouldn’t it do you well to accept that?”

“Accept what?” Frustration builds in Kaveh’s voice in response to Alhaitham’s words. Of course he dislikes the fact he can’t seem to keep anything to himself, and one way or another, it ends up becoming Alhaitham’s problem too. “That I’m upset just because I got told some unfavourable things, or accept that you know about it?”

“Both, Kaveh.” Alhaitham reiterates, firmer now, “Both.”

That’s just unfair.

For all his pointed attacks at how terribly Kaveh handles finances and the lengths he goes to please others, Alhaitham sure knows when to hold his tongue from crossing a line. But this? He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows just what to say and the exact way to play Kaveh right into his hands.

Kaveh’s grip on his arm loosens, unimpressed by what he’s fallen into.

Now he feels a bit cornered, too.

Perhaps caring for each other, in the typical sense, now just comes unnaturally for the both of them. Kaveh sure knows that’s the case for him, and he’d imagine it to be the same for Alhaitham. No, he knows it to be the same. One doesn’t just buy an exorbitant amount of wine for the fun of it.

Maybe Kaveh would.

But isn’t that exactly why Alhaitham does it?

This rough-around-the-edges type of caring is one that suits their relationship the best. It’s what's comfortable now, for what was comfortable back then is long gone.

At the end of it all, Kaveh knows Alhaitham has the best of intentions. Even if his means of conveying them aren’t the most agreeable thing, what’s more important is that Kaveh knows why he does it— why they both do it.

So be it. Two can play this game.

Kaveh sighs. “Fine. Hang up your cape first.”

He pushes forward into their living area and notices how Alhaitham takes two steps back. Kaveh briefly wonders if it was recoil due to his scent, but whatever. He’ll just have to get used to it. That’s what he gets for choosing to live with an omega.

Because after today, it occasionally feels as though that’s all he is.

An older, unmated omega, crashing at an alpha’s place because realising his achievements cost him his own.

Kaveh crashes onto their middle divan and eyes firmly planted onto their ceiling, gesturing Alhaitham over.

“Don’t sit on the divan behind me. That’s weird.” Kaveh beckons.

Alhaitham’s head bobs across in Kaveh’s periphery as he passes from one divan to another. A wind incense warmed by his skin passes over Kaveh’s. He should’ve kept his cape on. “If you’d wanted a face-to-face conversation, then surely, lying down defeats the purpose?”

“Just shut up and sit down, will you?” Kaveh sneers.

“Awfully demanding of you.”

“Why do I bother with you?” He feels himself desperately in need of a distraction from the eyes he feels plastered onto him. This too, he’s felt twice today. “And no, don’t remind me. I am aware.”

He really should’ve kept his cape on.

Peeking down from the ceiling towards Alhaitham, Kaveh notices he’s still got his cape hung around his forearm. The first thing he feels is mild annoyance, thinking of a perfectly nice cape becoming a wrinkled mess.

The second thing, however, is an idle thought that strays a bit too far.

Couldn’t Alhaitham just give Kaveh his cloak, for now?

“Never said anything about your rent.” Alhaitham replies. Why, Kaveh can practically hear him smiling behind it.

Right back down to reality. Snide bastard.

“Archon’s sake! Just— stay. ” Then, quieter, “Stay quiet.”

Kaveh receives nothing but a hum in reply, which he takes as his cue to continue. Thoughts flow out of his head one by one, and although he does his best to streamline them, it’s easy to get side-tracked.

Easy to feel riled up when you feel so wronged.

Even easier to fall into the trap where the more he talks about her comments, the more he begins to feel like she has a point. To a degree that he worries Alhaitham will agree with her, and agree that Kaveh really is past his prime.

Both as an architect and an omega.

As much as they bicker, argue and pull at each other’s strings, Kaveh does value his opinions and outlooks (even if they don’t sit right with him). This raises the stakes all the more when Kaveh gives in and talks about himself and how he feels, for it’s when he’s the most vulnerable.

And a strike to the heart is often lethal.

(They would know.)

When all is said and done, Kaveh feels curiously drained. One would think this would be therapeutic to some degree, but he doesn’t like to indulge. All the more worse with Alhaitham who hasn’t said a word in the past hour or so except a few nods and such. When Kaveh told Alhaitham to stay silent, this isn’t what he meant.

Perhaps he should’ve chosen his words wisely.

Then, just as his mind begins to descend into unplesantries, Alhaitham asks, “Isn’t she also an omega?”

Hold on.

“Say that again?” Kaveh fully turns his head towards Alhaitham, bewildered.

Alhaitham huffs a little sound of disapproval. “If she’s also an omega, why would she perpetuate such backward notions? It’s quite hypocritical of her, regardless of what her marital status may be.”

But forget all that.

“How did you know she’s also an omega?” Kaveh’s hands come up to a tight squeeze above his chest. “I never told you.”

“You didn’t.” Alhaitham states calmly.

“I didn’t?”

“Her scent was lingering under yours. Initially assumed you’d gone sour because of that.” Alhaitham takes a deep breath, followed by an equally deep exhale. It makes Kaveh want to curl up, hide, or head to his room, where his scent can’t reach Alhaitham.

So Kaveh imagines, hopes.

“It must have been a display of power by her, unless she tried nesting with you to ease your pheromones— which wouldn’t be very professional of you.” He adds on mockingly, but that’s not what resonates with Kaveh.

Kaveh?

Nesting with her?

When he hasn’t allowed himself that luxury in years, in nearly a decade?

With someone who looks down on him, like he’s nothing but a leftover omega?

Like the countless sacrifices he’s made to achieve what he has now are meaningless, lest he has a partner to share them with?

“Never— no.” Kaveh’s voice drops down to a chill whisper. The mere image of it has his stomach churning, and he swears the divan under him is beginning to sway. He hoists himself up, holding onto the divan’s back board. “Don’t you ever, ever insinuate that I’d do something so intimate with someone who doesn’t even respect me.”

If he can’t even nest here, will he ever?

(If Alhaitham won’t nest with him—)

A moment of silence, and Kaveh feels that he’s come off too harsh.

“Alright.” Alhaitham gets up from the divan, placing a palm that sears into his shoulder. “I hadn’t meant it.”

His scent is strong this close up, like a humid Sumerian day, sticking to the inside of Kaveh’s lungs. A shiver runs through Kaveh’s spine and into Alhaitham’s palm, keeping him steady.

“If you need anything, let me know.”

Anything?

The possibilities are endless. He could ask Alhaitham to do the groceries for next week under the guise of work. Perhaps he could even press his luck and ask Alhaitham to waive his rent this month. He never knows.

Who’s he kidding? This is the same man who grumbles when bringing Kaveh a cup of coffee.

But he does bring it.

And once that thought hits Kaveh, the words fall out of his mouth before he can register them. “A blanket, if you have another one.”

“A blanket?” Alhaitham repeats.

Fuck.

Excuses. Something, anything. “Mine’s basically a sheet since I bought the cheapest one available—” What is he saying? Yes, he has been feeling cold as of late but that’s not something he can’t handle. “Actually, I can buy another one tomorrow since it’s the weekend.”

What use is the backtrack if Alhaitham notices it anyway?

“Save that for rent. I do have another one.” Alhaitham’s palm leaves him as he heads to his room, leaving Kaveh in a mix of agitation and disbelief.

He can’t believe it worked.

No back and forth interrogations either.

Alhaitham’s comment on rent fades to black, and Kaveh forgets to ask if it has been previously washed.

Considering it a spare, surely it must be.

(It would do Kaveh well to hide his disappointment.)

Even then, this must hold some heavier, deeper implications, but he can’t quite think of them at the moment. The soft thud of his heart resonates through his chest as his eyes scan their now empty living room. He needs to settle his eyes onto something of interest before he descends into other such idle thoughts.

Then, resting on the divan’s armrest, lays Alhaitham’s cape.

Kaveh lets out a shaky exhale as he rediverts his attention to where he’s sat.

He holds that look, tracing along the ornate shapes and lines of the divan’s cushions and pillows, waiting patiently for both his nerves to settle, and for Alhaitham’s return.

Unfortunately for Kaveh, it doesn’t take long till Alhaitham does.

“Will this do?” Alhaitham drops a large, dohar blanket onto Kaveh’s lap, and in that moment, his hint of disappointment fades out of existence. Gone with the wind as Kaveh’s lungs fill with Alhaitham’s scent. It’s him in every way, in all its spiced and floral bottom notes, engulfing him in a tender warmth he hasn’t felt in ages.

His hands itch.

The temptation to take a deep breath is there, to lean his face forward in a scent that’s the epitome of comfort.

“Yes.”

But this is a delight he’ll engage in once Alhaitham’s in his room.

“This will do.”

2. Drunk

Tuesday night, Kaveh decides a visit to Lambad’s is in order.

He’s had far too much to think about, far too much to deal with in just three short days— and a few glasses of wine should do him well. A treat for his troubles, a distraction for the mind, if you will.

Because nothing got done over the weekend.

At least Alhaitham offered to take care of their groceries this weekend— it was completely out of the blue, too, considering how cut-throat he is about their weekly turns. Unless Kaveh’s in heat or he’s downright sick, Alhaitham never concedes.

Even when he does, he’ll make sure Kaveh knows it.

But this time, he had offered.

Kaveh was the one who ended up conceding, thinking this was some kind of set-up. Piling on favours he does for Kaveh so that Kaveh pays him back later, was what he’d imagined.

Just his hyper-active imagination.

But whatever, Kaveh was in no shape to fight back or disagree. He’d been feeling antsy all morning, and as soon as Alhaitham was out the door, Kaveh was back in bed with—

Archons.

Kaveh got nothing done because he was too busy nesting.

Yes, properly nesting.

Albeit in a more clumsy and out-of-touch manner. A newly presented omega would’ve done a much better job than him, but that’s the least of his concerns at the moment. The more important matter at hand is that he nested with Alhaitham’s blanket. His roommate. Junior. Old friend.

Head in clouds, work thrown to the wind, not a care or worry in the world. It was pure bliss—

He’s gone insane.

The very same day he thought about how he hadn’t nested in nearly a decade, just so happens to be the day he does? He’s not one to crumble under just any old stressors. Yes, her comments had bothered and irked him to no end, but not enough to warrant… this.

Whatever this is.

He didn’t even take Tighnari up on his offer to nest together after the palace crumbled. Troubling another, someone he wasn’t entirely close to, with his affairs felt wrong. Even now, he vividly recalls the feeling of being undeserving only further strengthen in that moment.

It stuck with him for years, even after they’d become friends.

Tighnari would remind him from time to time that he was always welcome, and that in itself was enough comfort, or so did Kaveh think.

What on earth was he thinking?

A part of him believes that it was a one-off fluke.

A mistake.

Surely.

With a deep breath in, he pushes the doors into Lambad’s Tavern. His signature rolls sizzle away with other skewers of meat and veg, they warm the air with spices and faint florals of Sumeru roses. A scent that nourishes his very soul, as Lambad’s Fish Rolls were a staple in his diet while he remodelled the second floor.

Kaveh would even say that Lambad’s cooking came close to feeling like home.

That is an impressive feat in itself.

He’d be lying if he said he came by just for a drink or three. Buying a bottle to take home is easy. No, he comes by for the atmosphere Lambad has cultivated and to show his appreciation for the man and his aid.

Where would he be without Lambad?

Not at Alhaitham’s, that’s for sure.

“Welcome, old friend! The usual?” Lambad’s voice roars across the tavern, reverberating right into anyone who’s a guest of his. He beams with a smile that’s hard to ever disagree with. His energy is contagious— comforting, even— as Kaveh knows he’ll never have to drag a conversation with him.

“As always.” Kaveh projects back, nodding as he feels a smile pull on his own cheeks. He seats himself at a table nestled in the corner, one that he and the other’s often use for TCG nights.

But for today, it’s just him, and it’s all the better.

There’s no shame in what he did, or at least, there shouldn’t be. Maybe it’ll be a bit awkward, but Alhaitham would understand. Friends nesting with each other isn’t unheard of in the slightest.

That is, when they’re both omegas.

Nesting with an alpha is a whole other ordeal.

And that is a bridge Kaveh will cross later, when it becomes relevant. Until then, it can stay hidden, tucked away in the dusty recesses of his mind. The bigger deal he makes out of this, the more likely Alhaitham will catch on.

(Kaveh can’t have that, not now. Not yet.)

Whatever he did over the weekend is between him and Celestia.

Out of mind, out of sight.

Lambad brings Kaveh a glass of his favourite local wine, setting it down in a quaint brass goblet. He seats himself before Kaveh, “Off work quite late, aren’t you!”

“You know I don’t have a set schedule.” Kaveh picks up the goblet and swirls it lightly, taking in a hint of padisarahs. “I go where the work and client is, within reason, of course.”

A hearty laugh erupts from his chest. “Oh, don’t I know it?”

Kaveh takes a sip of his wine, revelling in that familiar warmth as it goes down. It spreads into his chest, and it’ll only be a matter of time till his head feels the same sort of buzz.

Pulling away, Kaveh notices Lambad’s empty hands, “Finally against drinking on the job? What happened to yours? ” he teases.

“As if! Why do you think I chose to run a tavern?”

“So? What’s the occasion?” Kaveh asks, intrigued, as he takes another sip.

“An old sailor friend of mine is arriving from Natlan tomorrow, with local Natlani beverages at that!” Lambad leans back in his seat, hands behind his head as he wears a wide, childish grin. “Waiting for the good stuff, really immersing myself in the nostalgia, you know?”

Nodding, Kaveh hums, “Let me know how it goes, meanwhile I’ll stick to my beloved wines of yours.”

Laughter bursts out of Lambad’s chest. “HA! I haven’t heard a harder lie in years. What about the months you ordered plain food cause you had too many Dandelion wines to go through? Some nerve you had to gift me one.” Fist slammed into the table, Kaveh can still see him shaking in amusement.

“Wait, no—” he manages to get out. “Hold on, Lambad!”

Just as Kaveh attempts to defend himself, a new round of guests visit the Tavern and it has Lambad lunging up from his chair in loud greetings and even warmer welcomes. He shoots a look of apology towards Kaveh, and Kaveh simply gestures to him to go.

It’s more than alright, he’s been wanting some time to himself anyway.

And so Kaveh does, nursing his first four goblets of wine for the following hour, feeling his buzzed mind pull away from his concerns and worries. In moments like this, he feels above his second gender and age, feels that he’s never been more sure that his work and achievements are solely his to bear and claim, and it’s simply wonderful.

It makes him feel like he could conquer any obstacle thrown his way. He’s survived thus far, and he will make it farther— omega, be damned.

He could even pretend as though he and Alhaitham were on better terms. That the way they cared now aligned with the way they cared previously. In the way they chased after one another with gleaming eyes instead of the push and pull metric of today.

When Lambad comes by with a fifth goblet, a belated guilt of his debt and rent arises. A sort of twisted sense of shame in crashing at his junior’s home.

He’s burdened Alhaitham enough, he thinks.

Saddled him with enough of his problems, he adds.

But Lambad pulls his hand to wrap around the goblet, and reminds him it’s on the house as an apology for earlier.

Really, there is no need for an apology.

For he is undeserving of such.

But the wine is now in his hands. Didn’t he say Lambad had a grin that was near impossible to say no to?

A sip.

Then two, then three.

Kaveh’s skin and lips buzz against the surfaces they touch. He’s warm, bordering on uncomfortably warm, but he can bear it. Morely, he wonders if he’s lost his excuse for tonight. Would Alhaitham ask for the blanket back, given that Kaveh’s no longer cold?

Would Kaveh give it back?

No.

No, he wouldn’t.

That kind of warmth can’t be replaced, and he’ll be damned if he has to spend another decade searching for it. Fuck all the consequences and implications this may hold, for once, he’ll allow himself to be selfish.

Good.

To be honest in the things he wants, in what he needs.

His goblet’s all empty for some reason.

What a shame.

Kaveh rises to his feet, bidding Lambad a good rest of his night as he makes his way out of the Tavern. The cool night air engulfs Kaveh, creeping onto his heated skin, sweeping away the various spices and florals (which are so, so far from the one he wants) into the background.

Until he wonders if he’s yearned for it so much that he’s imagining it.

Surely.

Incense, nostalgic in a way only he knows it, heady in a way he loves it. Littered in notes of spicy ginger and soft florals, it’s so entirely and wholly him— and it’s so, so, very lovely.

This is what he’s wanted all day.

All day?

All of yesterday, too.

Is that so?

Too busy drafting up sketch, over sketch, over sketch and calculating archon-knows-what till the numbers six and eight blurred into one. Too busy hunched over with ink stained hands and racking his brain for something, anything, anything that wasn’t related to that cursed blanket, tucked away where he couldn’t see it. Cause if he did, he wouldn’t have gotten anything done.

Architect Kaveh, ruined!

Over what?

His lovely little junior’s act of kindness.

What a pity.

Arm pulled over firm shoulders, that familiar palm against his waist.

He takes a step forward two, three, then five times—

Each and every step rings in his ears like a melody, echoing down the late-night streets of Sumeru City. His feet occasionally drag across pavement, the very same one he ran across just days prior. This, in comparison, is so much more tolerable, so much more reasonable.

Kaveh takes long, deep breaths and does his best to sear as much of it into his memory as he can.

He already knows that blanket’s losing its scent.

Already?

Feels like a waste. That he finally managed to nest with it, and now he can’t. But maybe, just maybe, that’s for the best.

Why is that?

Some things are better left unknown, right? He would’ve been just fine without that knowledge, or that blanket. He would’ve gotten his work done on time. He wouldn’t have stayed up all night, only to feel the complete and utter disappointment of realising the scent has faded. Because that bothered him all day today, left him antsy and on edge.

Endured offense after offense of ‘omega this, omega that’, only for him to have his mind floating on his alpha roommate’s scent.

He was supposed to be above his secondary gender.

It doesn’t define him, it doesn’t. It can’t— and yet it does. Because at the end of the day, that’s just as much a part of him as everything about him is.

Of course.

Exactly.

Kaveh blinks thrice at the door before him, recognising it to be home. He tries to shake his arm away to grab his keys from his pocket, but the firm hold on him prevents it. Regardless, Kaveh thrashes and fights it, before realising the door’s been opened anyway.

How convenient.

Shoes, off.

Cape, off— well, maybe he’ll keep it on for tonight. He’ll feel less exposed and all that other stuff.

Unless he takes Alhaitham’s cape?

Oh.

Kaveh thought about it last time, so he could.

Go on, then.

And so he does. Clipping his cape off, discarding it somewhere or another, and focusing his vision on the black and teal cape, finally hung up and wrinkle-free, not that it matters now.

Kaveh pulls it off the hook by the cuff, then against his chest, taking in a deep breath of fresh pheromones that he’ll miss ever-so-dearly in the morning. But that’s for future Kaveh to deal with. The Kaveh of now, buzzed with heat both in his chest and his skin, is more interested in curling up in bed, blanket and cape in arms, with not a care in the world.

His legs make way to his bedroom, held steady by a firm grip, lest he fall— and down he goes, right into bed.

Pulling the blanket and cape up to his face, burying it forward for he wouldn’t miss this for the world. This way, he feels surrounded even if he actually isn't. Should the scent last till the next morning, he’ll muster up some energy to nest before work, and start his day on a good note.

But for now, this will do.

This, he missed.

.

.

.

But was it worth this?

Kaveh’s heart has dropped further than he’d like. It’s barely sunrise out, there is but a sliver of light entering the room he’s in. Even then, he can tell.

He can tell from the direction the light’s coming in, and the length it travels. He can tell from the mattress underneath him, and the pillow he’d had his head on moments prior. Even with his pounding head, even if his sense of sight and touch were taken away, he’d know a hundred times over, that this wasn’t his scent.

This isn’t his room.

And that’s even more glaringly obvious when he considers who’s at the other end of the bed.

Alhaitham’s cape next to him explains it all, because he doesn’t need to remember what happened last night to put two and two together. He knows his thoughts, and he thought he knew himself well enough to not act on them.

But clearly— he isn’t above indulgence.

Mercy.

Please.

Did he truly allow himself to believe his obsession with that damn blanket warranted any of this? That encroaching on Alhaitham’s home wasn’t enough, so his room and bed were next?

No. No, Kaveh.

That’s a line he can’t cross. He shouldn’t have crossed.

Right?

That’s how it should be, but in comes the ugly little voice in the back of his head, reminding him of a counter to his thoughts. Had Alhaitham been so uncomfortable with Kaveh’s presence, why wasn’t he woken up?

Why wasn’t he moved?

Why, then, did Alhaitham choose to sleep in the same bed?

(Don’t you think it’s a sign, Kaveh?)

Kaveh feels like he’ll suffocate if he remains here any longer. His head can’t take this all first thing in the morning, not after the abuse he put it through yesterday. This is not something he can handle talking about.

What will he accomplish when he can’t even think?

So he leaves Alhaitham before he awakes in favour of his room, even when that small voice urges him to test the limits. To push Alhaitham and see what more he’ll allow, what more he’ll let past that blurry little line of theirs.

(Stay. You were welcomed.)

For the sake of his own sanity, Kaveh decides against it.

He regrets ever entertaining the idea, even for a brief moment.

It doesn’t matter if it’s way too early. He can wait for the client. Anything, anywhere is better than here at this moment. Kaveh peels himself out of last night’s clothing, disregarding any and all scents of incense that creep up from them.

They find refuge in a corner of his room, together with the blanket.

He’ll wash them later.

He will.

Racing against time itself, Kaveh does his best to be out the door as presentable as possible (as presentable as a hungover and panicked architect can be). His hurry is for naught as their paths will cross anyway when Alhaitham walks into their bathroom as Kaveh brushes his teeth.

This is a nightmare.

Surely he’ll wake up soon enough.

When he doesn’t, Kaveh opts to book it for the entryway, no regard for Alhaitham in the slightest. He slips his shoes and cape on in a rush, hand on the door handle when a voice speaks behind him:

“Didn’t know you had to meet a client at six o’clock in the morning, Kaveh.”

Oh, do those words sting.

Actually, why does he feel like he’s been caught red-handed? What did he do? If Alhaitham brought him back from the Tavern as he usually does, couldn’t he have directed Kaveh into his own bed?

But why would he do that?

He hadn’t pulled such a stunt the last few times he picked up Kaveh, or the times before those. The only thing that’s changed between them from now and then is that damn blanket of his.

And his cape.

And his bed.

(His room and—)

“Did you move me to your bed last night?” It comes out sharper and rougher than he’d like. Kaveh withdraws ever so slightly, softening his blow with the dreaded option, “Or, did I…”

When Alhaitham’s expression shifts to one more puzzled, Kaveh knows he’s made a mistake.

He doesn’t want to hear it.

Don’t say it.

“I didn’t.” Alhaitham pauses as his eyes glance up at Kaveh and back a few times. Kaveh assumes he’s thinking of what to say to such a left field accusation, and frankly? It’d be best if he walked out right this second. “You went to my room all on your own, Kaveh. My cape in hand and asleep in mere seconds.”

Stop.

“Sleep deprivation and stress must’ve gotten to you. Have to say, I was quite taken aback.” Alhaitham hums back.

Stop, stop, stop— “Okay. I get it.”

Kaveh already knew this. He didn’t need to subject himself to the humiliation of asking outright. Whether it be for clarification, or some semblance of hope. Whatever he was hoping to achieve, did not work out like he’d hoped.

“Kaveh, you’re souring.”

Now he’ll just have to survive the next week, month or year trying to live down this very fact.

Just lovely.

(So, so lovely.)

3. Contact

Kaveh needs to quit drinking.

The past month has been a cyclical disaster fed by none other than himself, and he can’t escape it, when he so desperately wants to.

His last heat hit him harder than he would’ve preferred. Exasperated further by not-so-little reminders of his roommates scent sprinkled all around his room like some sort of addicting plague he couldn’t get enough of.

Kaveh was practically sobbing himself into delirium when no amount of stimulation was enough.

Sore, chaffed.

Wrists ached.

Bordering on painful, and it was only day two.

Still, the lingering shame of giving in is a defeat he’ll never recover from. Reaching out the very thing he’d avoided all week because it was the key to his relief, even if just for a moment. If not for Alhaitham’s blanket and clothes, what else could give him wave after wave of euphoria? Make him yearn for delusions of skin other than his own?

(Make him wish that it was real.)

It felt right in the wrongest of ways, as though the risks of being caught were just as fruitful as the benefits.

Kaveh has reminded himself tenfold that they’re not. He’s not willing to lose Alhaitham’s presence for momentary gratification. It’s not worth it.

But he felt satisfied, satiated.

In hindsight, it’s infuriating, embarrassing and humiliating all tied up in a box, he’d hope, is solely for his own safe keeping.

For all that the sevens stand for.

He really needs to start taking his suppressants again. He still has a strip, too.

The only good thing to come out of his heat was that he was able to postpone his meeting with Mrs. Denigrate to the week after— but that was a contained disaster in its own right. Once his week of heat was over and done with, Kaveh went over to Lambad’s, by choice, to forget it all.

It was for his own sanity.

For the sake of starting anew, beginning the new week as an even newer slate.

That’s what Kaveh wanted.

Forgetting what came after Lambad’s was not what he meant.

The very next morning, Kaveh couldn’t tell if the knot in his stomach was from his awful hangover, or the fact that he was nestled comfortably back in Alhaitham’s bed. For the second time.

Second.

And that wasn’t enough for him.

(Kaveh needed more.)

All it took was getting berated to high hell by his client for not using suppressants. This time, Kaveh wasn’t even that irked by her comments. He saw them coming, but that wasn’t important.

When he walked to Lambad’s after, it was for an experiment.

A hypothesis he had. Damned be his shaky hands and his heart’s thrums as he drowned in something other than his sorrows for once. He downed one less glass from before, and yet—

That morning Kaveh thought he’d been stuck in samsara.

Maybe both of them are.

Alhaitham just lets him do it. He’s just letting Kaveh have free reign over his bed, for what? All because he was drunk out of his mind?

Kaveh imagined after the first and second time, Alhaitham would just leave him to rot at Lambad’s. Sit Kaveh down sternly, lock his doors, and kick him to the floor if Kaveh still manages to get into his bed. Maybe— maybe he’d even ask him to move back to the second floor of the Tavern, but no. There hasn’t been a single peep about it.

Once Kaveh leaves and Alhaitham gets up, they don’t talk about it.

Nothing.

That prospect intrigues Kaveh just as much as it terrifies him.

Like a bad omen, almost. Like he’s just moments away from something irreversible, something larger than him, with stakes he isn’t sure he can handle.

This is dangerous.

Kaveh is a hazard.

Both to himself and Alhaitham.

His thoughts can’t be trusted, and his actions have gone far beyond mere indulgences. He’s actively committing offenses now, pushing boundaries wherever they can be pushed when he knows he cannot do that.

He needs to come back down.

Clear his thoughts. Away from here, where his arms and legs itch.

(A tall order considering his head’s filled with nothing but Alhaitham.)

He taps his pen on the clipboard two, three, then five times—

“What’s gotten you so unfocused?” Alhaitham asks, seating himself beside Kaveh, setting off alarm bells in his head. The urge to pull away is quickly outweighed by the idea of making Alhaitham suspicious.

What if he’s just honest about it?

(He’s run this scenario hundreds of times.)

Kaveh grips his pen, hard. “I have to go to Gandharva Ville soon.”

“Oh?” Alhaitham turns to him, resting his back and forearm against the divan’s backboard. “A client?”

Not exactly.

Not even, actually.

Why does he always ask such short, to the point questions?

“For Tighnari.” Kaveh notes, now scribbling into a corner of his paper. Writing and sending off the first letter was so much easier than this. He’ll just start this one again, no bother.

“Tighnari commissioned you for the Forest Rangers?”

“What? No.” Resisting the urge to scrunch up the paper entirely, Kaveh drops his feet to the floor. He flips the clipboard paper-side down onto his lap so that he doesn’t have to look at it. “Also, it wouldn’t be a commission. I’d be helping.”

“If you believe he’d allow that, sure.”

Kaveh bristles, “Give it a break, would you? Leave me alone.”

He’s been on edge all week and Alhaitham hasn’t done a damn thing to help it, none the wiser. At least he seems oblivious to the fact that Kaveh’s keeping to himself.

Alhaitham soon hums in response. “If not help, what for, then?”

See.

Technically, it is for help.

Not for Tighnari— but for Kaveh.

As soon as Kaveh’s less high strung and agitated, he can go right back to his day to day affairs. “If only you promise to keep your mouth shut—”

It’s not like Kaveh wants to hinder Tighnari’s already busy work as a Forest Ranger. He’ll be busy going to and fro and might not even have time for Kaveh, but he is desperate.

“I guarantee nothing.” Alhaitham states, voice dipped in mockery. “Continue.”

Tighnari offered.

Kaveh can wait for whenever he’s free.

Alhaitham doesn’t have to know that, though.

Better he doesn’t know.

“He offered to nest with me if I ever needed, a few years ago.” Kaveh swallows heavily. Words lodge in his throat. “The last time I nested must have been with my mother, and that was so long ago— I don’t even remember it. I think all those years are finally getting to me.”

Kaveh’s heart strums in his chest, ringing in his ears like a melody. He glances over at Alhaitham beside him, whose eyes are planted onto nothing specific, as another hum croons between them.

Relieved, Kaveh takes his cue to continue.

Kaveh takes it slow, “There’s just been a lot on my mind. Piles of work, rude clients, especially a certain one’s comments, you know it.” He holds back, ensuring he doesn’t say more than he needs to.

“Mhm.” Alhaitham nods, listening intently.

“Just, really tired.” Hold back. He needs to hold back. “So long as Tighnari’s fine with it, I was thinking of heading there for most weekends.”

Tighnari’s name lingers in the air for a moment.

Alhaitham doesn’t say anything at first, breaking his silence later on with a quick, prompt question—

“Have you already asked him?”

“No, I’ll write to him soon.”

“Don’t take her words to heart, Kaveh. Before being an omega, you’re an architect. That’s who she commissioned.” Alhaitham states, sitting up to look at Kaveh. “But nesting would do you well. You’ll stop spacing out mid-action and having to work all night because of it.”

Just when Kaveh thought the impossible would happen, of course he’s proven wrong. Such moments like this between them aren’t complete without a jab at the other. Well, that’s alright too.

This is enough for him.

“Yeah, yeah. Nesting isn’t the end-all-be-all, not that you’d know.” Kaveh sneers, jabbing an elbow into Alhaitham’s side.

If only he did.

If only.

.

.

.

Kaveh can’t stop shaking his leg at his table.

He’s been at it all day, so much so he hasn’t even bothered to turn his lights on.

It’s becoming nigh unbearable to get anything done.

After their little conversation, it feels like nothing has gone his way. He feels trapped in his own room, trapped in his own skin and nothing he does can fix it. Trying to make a nest out of whatever he can scrounge up is disappointing and underwhelming. It does little to stop his skin from crawling.

It doesn’t feel like home. It doesn’t feel safe.

Now all he can do is hope, and pray to the archons that Tighnari writes back soon— with good news at that, before Kaveh does something he’ll regret.

He just knows it.

He’s not even sure if Tighnari’s nest would be comforting to him, now that he’s had a peek into what it’d be like with Alhaitham. And it could only get better from there, more comfortable, more relaxing, more homey—

(More lovely.)

Kaveh throws his head forward, burying it into the nook of his elbow.

This isn’t what he wants to bury his face into, and it’s infuriating that he can’t. It’s not that he can’t immerse himself in Alhaitham’s pheromones, it’s that he simply won’t allow himself to.

Even if he’s right next door.

All Kaveh would have to do is just—

He wants to scream.

He’s been at a crossroads with what his body wants (quite frankly, needs) and what his mind wants— and even those lines are blurring. He can’t tell anymore.

How fucking unfortunate does he have to be to reach this point?

As Kaveh mutters a string of curses and unpleasantries under his breath (both to himself and the root problem, his roommate), the devil himself knocks on his door, jolting Kaveh out of his head even harder. “FUCK. You scared me.”

Then, his mind races for reasons Alhaitham would knock. “Did I get a letter? Was it Tighnari? Did he finally reply—”

“No letters.” Blunt and to the point.

Kaveh groans in frustration, throwing his head back down to the table. Any hope that built up in that moment comes crashing down as stark disappointment echoes in Kaveh’s head. He tries to keep as still as possible, ignoring the situation at hand. He does his best to ignore how irked he feels in exchange for how the table feels cool against his skin.

Frankly, anything would be a better distraction than the person standing at his door, right this moment.

It wouldn't take much.

“Was that your knee earlier? Would be a miracle if it’s still intact.” Alhaitham chides from past the door.

“Archons! It wasn’t my knee, did you hear the table bang? No!” Kaveh straightens in his seat, feeling the tension in his muscles build and wind. He feels so high-strung that any wrong movement could cause it, and consequently, him, to snap.

Curses.

Keep yourself together, would you?

“Alhaitham. If you have nothing nice to say, saying nothing is the better option.” Kaveh yells from inside his room, shoulders tense and sore. He needs something to keep his hands and mind occupied, lest he go right insane. He’ll take anything.

Anything.

“What about something you’d find nice then? If you’d open the door.” Alhaitham mentions.

He could just come in. Kaveh never locks his door.

It’d be a lie to say Kaveh wasn’t intrigued, or worse, hopeful.

What could something nice entail? Something only Alhaitham could provide him? His hope yearns for a freshly scented shirt or blanket. His head knows the likelihood of that is practically zero.

(With how Kaveh is now, he’d love to take the chance.)

Kaveh rises from his chair with a large huff, “What could a feeble scholar such as you have prepared?”

As he clicks open the door, he finds himself expecting quite little of Alhaitham.

So, it is a surprise when he finds Alhaitham standing before him as a dark shadow, rim-lit only by their living room’s lights. His expression is unclear as he faces down, guiding Kaveh’s eyes to a bottle of Dandelion wine in his left, and two ornate, silver chalices in his right.

It’s not a lot, but Alhaitham’s scent seeps past his doorway, carving itself into his space.

Into him.

When Alhaitham finally looks up and his eyes meet Kaveh’s, his voice low and quiet like they’re the only ones who need to know the words—

“Care for a drink, Senior?”

It is a delight.

And Kaveh couldn’t care more.

Perhaps this will be something he’ll come to regret later. A larger headache of implications he didn’t think of any sooner, all because he can’t be asked to think of them now.

Kaveh isn’t a fool.

“Have you ever seen me say no?”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, and how to do it.

Kaveh feels himself unwind into the divan the moment he drops down beside Alhaitham. It's the same arrangement as before, Kaveh on the left and Alhaitham on the right, but it’s a wholly different situation.

Instead of being extremely Alhaitham-averse, he’s practically leaning into the man now. He’s been struggling to hide how much he’s yearned for Alhaitham’s presence as of late.

Not that he’ll care about hiding it after a drink or two, or five. He’s guilty of climbing into Alhaitham’s bed without another thought, so what’s new?

His heart lies heavy in his chest, drumming away.

After their little drinking session blows over, he’ll be back into a soft mattress and even softer blankets, basking in spiced pheromones he’s missed ever-so-dearly. Maybe, just maybe, today he’ll—

Breathe, Kaveh. Take it easy.

Forget any ideas of downing the entire bottle just because he wants tomorrow now. He’s desperate alright, but at least keep it cool for now. Hold onto some semblance of an image, why don’t you?

It’s not often that they drink together.

Kaveh brings the chalice up to his lips, sipping lightly as he ponders, daydreams. It’s saccharine sweet on his tongue before it melds into a bitter aftertaste, warming him on its way down.

Pulling away, Kaveh asks, “What’s the occasion, by the way?”

He doesn’t particularly care for the reason Alhaitham offered. The very fact that he offered is what’s at the forefront of Kaveh’s mind.

(He’ll be taken right back to where he belongs.)

“There is none. Think of this as my contribution in dwindling your supply.” Alhaitham takes a sip as well, soon pulling away to eye the drink. His lips press into a line, brows furrowing.

Alhaitham doesn’t like it, yet he’ll never admit it.

It has Kaveh humming, amused by the view before him. “And who’s fault is that?”

Moments like these remind Kaveh of how simple Alhaitham can be to read on occasions. Though he may be an enigma to most, enough time with him has taught Kaveh his tells.

“Yours, of course. For not depleting it any faster.” Alhaitham leans back into their divan now, joining Kaveh. Their bodies face one another, mirroring each other’s movements. “Was this not your preferred drink?”

“It is—” Kaveh cuts himself off.

Well?

Kaveh’s not entirely sure where Alhaitham got the idea that Dandelion wine was his favourite. Having something once, prior to Alhaitham’s antics, doesn’t qualify it for favours.

When did he ever tell Alhaitham about the one time he had it?

Though, this is a lie he’ll be taking to his grave.

This was Alhaitham’s roundabout way of apology, after all. One that Kaveh forgave him for, not because of the money he spent on imports, but because of how much he seemed like his younger self at that moment. He seemed like a pup with his tail tucked away, moments away from a whimper.

This too, is another thought he’ll be keeping to himself.

“I still enjoy it but, too much of a good thing is never fun, you know?” Kaveh brings his chalice up, swirling the drink, “Not even wine.”

“Oh?” Alhaitham leans forward, “Do I foresee the Light of Kshahrewar quitting his trips to Lambad’s?”

Kaveh laughs heartily, “Ha! You wish.” before stopping to let Alhaitham’s words sink in. Then quieter, he asks, “Do you wish it?”

Alhaitham’s brows raise questioningly, “Wish for you to stop drinking?”

Kaveh nods silently.

After all, Kaveh’s trips to Lambad’s incur much trouble for Alhaitham. What with the ever-growing tab and having to drag Kaveh back home, not to mention, his newer habit of intruding into Alhaitham’s personal space.

But when has Alhaitham ever conceded with things he dislikes?

He doesn’t.

Alhaitham is a cut-throat and clear man. If something irks him, he will make it known.

Alhaitham sets down his drink before them before speaking, “I only wish for you to wake as a functioning person, Kaveh. Not one half-way to their deathbed as you usually are.”

Even now, he finds a way to mock Kaveh.

Kaveh’s mouth dries, “Anything else?”

Tell him more.

Alhaitham reflects for a moment, “I wish for you to be healthy, and that means moderation.”

Tell him about those mornings.

Kaveh’s hands itch. “What else?”

“Tell me, Kaveh.” Alhaitham’s voice rumbles low, “What do you want to hear?”

The drink ripples from one edge to another under his grasp, unstable. Kaveh should set it down before his hands give out.

Until a searing hand wraps around his, keeping it steady.

“Your turn.”

Kaveh takes a shaky breath in, attempting to arrange his thoughts into some semblance of coherence, when all that comes out is, “Tell me I’m welcome in your bed, drunk or not. That I’m not just projecting my wants and needs onto you, and…”

…that you want me too.

Is what Kaveh means to say, till his words are swept by the wind.

Alhaitham slips his chalice out of hand and knocks back the rest of his drink. He places the empty chalice besides his own, returning his hand back to Kaveh’s own. “If you hadn’t been welcome, it would have never happened.”

Kaveh’s mind begins to draw a blank. “Simpler, Alhaitham. Don’t be smart with me, not now.”

Alhaitham’s hands hold his firm, running a comforting thumb across his palm. It sways back and forth, grounding Kaveh into the current moment, where he swears he could see a grin playing on Alhaitham’s lips.

“I wish for you to stay in bed, instead of sneaking away before I awake.” Fingers slip in between his own, tender. “That should be simple enough for you.”

Always.

Always so terribly arrogant.

“It will suffice.”

4. Suppress

With every passing morning Kaveh wakes up in Alhaitham’s room, he thinks that this was inevitable.

That he was meant to end up here.

He’s no longer surprised with this turn of events. He was practically a ticking time-bomb about to go off, it was only a matter of time till he gave in— and he couldn’t be happier. Makes him feel like a fool for ever holding back.

It paid off, though.

Every morning, Kaveh awakes warmly in sheets that are now his to share. Pillows and blankets placed where he wants them, fluffed in the way he likes them, and steeped in Alhaitham’s scent very the way he loves them. Filling and coating his lungs with every breath he takes.

Head in the clouds from before his eyes open and body lax under Alhaitham’s hold, the drowsiness makes it terribly easy for him to ignore any alarm bells that chime in his head.

They simply aren’t needed.

Not when he can face Alhaitham, his eyes fluttering open to see a man grazed in morning light, who always faces sleeping him. These little actions are what fill Kaveh’s heart, and when he feels it about to burst, he always makes room for more.

Like now.

Kaveh’s favourite part of these mornings is dancing his fingers over Alhaitham’s features, starting from the arm under his head, guiding Kaveh’s eyes to his sleeping face— delightfully unaware of how guiltless he seems.

Though his softer features are long gone, Kaveh can’t help but see a shadow of Alhaitham’s younger self.

In the way his hair falls over his eyes.

The way his eyes droop ever so slightly behind them, the way his bottom lip pushes up just enough to make him look pouty.

All things Alhaitham will never know, because some things are better left unsaid.

Call it a secret just for himself to know.

(Just one among many.)

When Alhaitham does wake, he places his hand on Kaveh’s, redirecting it onto his chest. His lips move, mouthing and murmuring something low, something Kaveh can’t quite catch, before sending himself back into a content slumber with a hum.

It’s Alhaitham’s little tell when he’s pleased.

Kaveh didn’t just pick this up overnight, no. It’s a tell of his Kaveh has noticed after several years of silent observation and bickering.

It’s a fleeting thing, hard to catch.

But that’s what makes it so special. It makes Alhaitham an open book of sorts, all the more easier to read and get a reaction out of. More so than he already is, to his own dismay, and to Kaveh’s benefit.

Moments like these make everything worth the wait.

An initial hardship, made even sweeter.

Kaveh croons into a gentle sigh.

He’d love to stay in bed more than anything, as per Alhaitham’s request. He’d love to pretend like he has nothing better to do but laze around, but his duty as an architect calls, reminding him of his responsibilities. He has a clientele to please at the cost of Alhaitham’s displeasure.

Kaveh supports himself up by his elbow, only to feel the palm against his waist press firmer. “Alhaitham, let go. I need to get ready.”

Alhaitham grumbles in response, eyes still closed and hand unrelenting.

It’s adorable, it really is.

Kaveh pulls off Alhaitham’s hand, causing him to flick his eyes open. “Come on now. Don’t pull stunts like this when I finally wake up functional and on time.”

Bleary eyed, he says, “Of all times, why must you have a proper schedule now?”

Kaveh laughs, “Why, I thought you wanted that for me?”

“I never said so.”

Kaveh continues, “Said you wanted me to be healthy.”

“In reference to drinking.”

“Look at me!” Kaveh jumps up out of bed, throwing his arms above his head for one, long stretch. “Have I ever been more energised?”

Alhaitham’s hair falls to one side as he creaks his neck up, supporting his head with his arm. A small grin plays on his lips, and Kaveh has a feeling he knows what he’s about to say— “Why wouldn’t you be when I’m here? Care to recall who’s been scenting you to—”

Kaveh screams, “NO. Stop, stop, stop.”

What use is being able to foresee his tells when he can’t stop them in time?

“—sleep, every night and every morning? I’m hurt, Kaveh.” Alhaitham mocks.

“I’m leaving, Alhaitham. I’m leaving!”

And just before Kaveh leaves the room and shuts the door behind him, he hears an awfully familiar set of words.

“What a pity.”

.

.

.

A trip to Bimarstan is in order.

Kaveh has been meaning to visit Dr. Zakariya for almost a year now. Back then, he was too occupied moving in with Alhaitham to refill his prescription, and after that blew over? Kaveh simply forgot to do so.

Hazardous, definitely.

(Kaveh is a hazard.)

Who stops taking suppressants after they move in with an alpha?

If Kaveh really cared about minimising trouble for Alhaitham, putting a stop to his violent heats should have been his number one priority. He promised himself that he would refill them soon, both for his sake and Alhaitham’s, time and time again.

Every time his heats ended and his skin no longer burned ablaze, Kaveh often thought about that promise. Left lying in bed, alone with his thoughts, and he often felt revolting. It wasn’t his sticky skin and soaked sheets, it was something deeper within him. Something more personal.

And this happened every month.

Kaveh allowed this to happen every month.

Even as Alhaitham was kind enough to leave him food and drink at the door, never once commenting— Kaveh took advantage of that.

But for the past two weeks they’ve been sleeping in the same bed, there’s been this inexplicable air of tension that Kaveh can’t ignore anymore. He needs to act, and he needs to act fast before he does something he won’t just regret, but he can’t undo.

Kaveh feels a shiver ride up his spine, to his neck.

Walking swiftly up the path to Bimarstan now, he decides to ignore it.

Once he’s here, he awaits his turn to be seen. Kaveh notices Dr. Zakariya’s eye bags seem to have gotten worse, at least, from the last time they met. The amount of patients waiting to be seen seems to reflect his workload as well.

Which is no issue, Kaveh will be in and out just as fast.

When he’s called up by Dr. Zakariya, the process is quite streamlined. Kaveh hands him his prescription, signed by the man himself— but it doesn’t take long for him to notice the discrepancy.

“How come you’ve only refilled thrice for the twelve months I gave you?” Dr. Zakariya scowls, peering over the paper in his hands, skeptical.

Kaveh opens his mouth to reply, I’ve been busy.

But Dr. Zakariya hands him the paper back with a long sigh. “No matter. That is your business, not mine. Remember that you must take them timely for the full-effect.”

“I understand.” Kaveh promptly replies.

Dr. Zakariya nods sluggishly, hands coming up to rub his temples. “And your refills for next month are void. Renew your prescription for that. I can either do it now, or later.”

That won’t be necessary.

Kaveh smiles, “I’m not sure if they’ll sit right with me, it’s been a while.”

“Then later. Come back next month.”

“Yes, you seem swamped.” Kaveh picks up the strip Dr. Zakariya hands him.

“May you be in good health.”

Kaveh gives his thanks to Dr. Zakariya and soon turns to head back home. On his way, he stares at the 28-pill strip now in his hands. It’s been a good while since he’s seen a cycle's worth of suppressants.

He wonders what time everyday would work the best for him.

This makes Kaveh wonder if he has anything that is standard in his day-to-day life. His breakfasts are too variable, too early some days (practically a midnight snack) and too late on others (practically lunch). In that same vein, lunch is always had around his client meetings.

But dinner would work perfectly. Eating and cooking for Alhaitham has made Kaveh used to having it at a routine time.

(Alhaitham is the one standard of his life, now.)

This will do quite well, actually.

Now that the sun's beginning to set, Kavehs mind drifts to what he’ll make for dinner as he walks up the path to their home. The list of ingredients they have back home runs through his mind.

Kaveh could make fatteh, nice and simple.

Though if he’s going through the trouble of soaking beans anyway, maybe he’ll go the extra mile and cook sabz meat stew instead? It’ll be hearty, filling, and he knows Alhaitham would appreciate it.

He’ll do that, then.

Kaveh feels awfully pleased.

Perhaps since the looming need to finally refill his suppressants has passed, he can finally stop feeling guilty. It was simple, too. He doesn’t know why it’s taken him so long.

But such is the human mind, right?

It takes him little to no effort to change course to Bimarstan instead of heading back home right after work.

At first, the excuse was that he’d left his prescription at home— but he’s had over three hundred days and not once did he give Mehrak his prescription. All those days of going up and down those paths, he had the choice to make the conscious decision, and he simply didn’t.

Maybe, it’s because some part of him felt safe with Alhaitham. He trusted Alhaitham to hold back if worse came to worst. This is who Alhaitham is, after all. The very same person who offered to stay at his childhood home for the weeks Kaveh had his heats.

Just to make Kaveh comfortable.

Kaveh tells himself he declined because it felt like he was kicking Alhaitham out of his own home. Some roommate he’d be, right?

He can rack his brain all he wants, but Kaveh doesn’t know exactly either. Why does he do all the things he does when it comes to Alhaitham? Why do they do the things that they do to each other?

Oftentimes, it’s the simplest answer that prevails.

(Kaveh didn’t want to take them.)

Kaveh keeps them pocketed when he reaches home and gets started on dinner. Alhaitham joins him soon after, assisting him in washing and peeling various veg while Kaveh prepares the meat and rice.

Evenings like these are his favourite, he thinks.

Evenings like these where they hear about the other’s day and jump at any opportunity to poke fun when possible— where they clean up as the stew simmers away. When it’s done, Alhaitham knows it’s his cue to bring out their dishes and cutleries, and Kaveh plates it up for the both of them.

This is when they sit in their shared living space, and eat in a comfortable silence.

They stay in sync for nearly the entire time, and in its aftermath, when Alhaitham goes to fetch a book to read, Kaveh wonders if they’ll ever top it.

Once he’s back with his book, Kaveh sees Alhaitham lean over him and extend a hand out.

“Get up. Did you want indigestion?” Alhaitham rebukes, reaching down till Kaveh moves his arm out of his grasp.

“Hasn’t happened yet, won’t happen soon.” Kaveh says, proud.

“You’re not above biology.”

“Never said I was.” Kaveh murmurs as he turns to his side, getting comfortable on their middle divan. “Besides, after that meal? I could really take a nap.”

Alhaitham looks wholly unimpressed, heading for the kitchen— presumably for a drink to accompany his nightly reading.

“Suit yourself. I’m not moving you back to bed.”

Oh?

Is that so?

The comment has Kaveh chuckling to himself, peering up at Alhaitham through his lashes with a dopey grin. “Aw. Not even to your bed?”

Alhaitham stops dead in his tracks, hand lingering over the kitchen faucet. He stands there for a few moments, before turning back to face Kaveh. His expression looks tense, his lips pressed lightly into a line, lids heavy as his eyes glance down at Kaveh.

Kaveh would love to continue poking fun at him.

Though that might prove to be too much for his little junior.

“Kaveh—”

“Don’t be so coy. You know I like your bed.” Kaveh remarks as he rests his head over an arm, still smiling. “By the way, could you bring me a glass of water while you’re there?”

Alhaitham huffs as he turns to the cabinets to get another glass.

Irked, he answers, “Surely you won’t drink this laying down and make a mess of our divan, will you?”

“Think an architect of all people would forget about gravity? Think again.” Kaveh shoots right back, pulling himself to sit up as Alhaitham approaches him with a glass of water.

It’s cool in his hands, a few drops run down the clear glass.

Kaveh feels a shiver run through his hand and into his arm. With his free hand he rummages for his suppressants, pulling them out just as Alhaitham takes a seat beside him.

“What is that?” Alhaitham asks, book resting on his lap.

“Suppressants.” Kaveh answers off-handedly, busy resting the strip on his thigh as he tries to wrestle one out of its packaging single-handedly.

“Suppressants?”

Kaveh turns to Alhaitham, nodding as his frustration builds. “Archons. Hold this glass for me.”

He tries to hand Alhaitham the glass of water, instead, Alhaitham picks up the strip of suppressants from his lap. Kaveh sees his eyes follow the arrows back and forth, before ultimately, he decides to pop the first one out for Kaveh.

Except Alhaitham doesn’t hand it to him immediately.

(Alhaitham’s soured.)

“How come?” Alhaitham asks, his book long abandoned. “Finally getting sick of your heats?”

“Who wouldn’t be with heats as vicious as mine? Besides, I’m busy this month.” Kaveh answers, eyeing the little pill in Alhaitham’s hands.

“Your heats are brutal. I’ve heard.”

He heard?

Kaveh’s taken aback by the comment. His skin begins to crawl as visions of his previous heats flash in his mind. Especially his last heat and exactly how he spent it, in all its infuriating and humiliating glory.

This was a memory Kaveh had hoped to lose by now.

Why is it that now is when he finds out that Alhaitham heard it all?

And for how long?

Fuck. Kaveh didn’t think the weight of his comment would be this heavy.

“If you know, then you should know how much I don’t want to deal with it.” Kaveh states, firm, as he does his best to keep his voice stable. He feels cold, on the verge of shivers. “Give me my suppressant.”

“And if I don’t?”

Kaveh doesn’t want to imagine what that could entail.

“What? Do you have a problem with me taking them?” Kaveh questions. It sounds more targeted than he’d like, but he has a right to know.

“No. Not at all.” Alhaitham replies swiftly, glancing up at Kaveh.

Kaveh takes a deep breath of Alhaitham’s pheromones, tart and sullen. “Come on, then. Give it back.”

So Alhaitham does.

His hand reaches up with the tiny white pill, pressing it lightly against Kaveh’s lips.

“Open.”

Kaveh’s mind is on overdrive. He isn’t thinking anymore, just feeling. And just feeling Alhaitham’s fingers graze his lips has them parting just enough for Alhaitham to slip the pill in, pushing it past his teeth and onto his tongue.

It brushes against his index finger, and for a brief moment, Kaveh tastes the salt of Alhaitham’s skin.

The gentle pressure against the tip of his tongue.

It has Kaveh’s mind whirling with thoughts, hopes and prayers.

But Alhaitham pulls away just as fast, leaving Kaveh out of breath and weary.

“Go on. Drink.”

With a shaky exhale, Kaveh raises the glass up to his lips, feeling the cool glass and the even cooler water feed into his body-wide chills. It takes every nerve in his system to swallow it down, yet he still feels a lump build in his throat.

So he drinks.

More and more.

Till there is none left in the glass.

He raises his eyes to meet Alhaitham’s intently staring back at him, leaning forward just enough for Kaveh to feel his warm breath graze his occupied hand.

He’s close.

Kaveh swallows heavily. “Let me put this away.”

With much difficulty, he manages to pull his eyes away from Alhaitham and onto their coffee table. Kaveh reaches out carefully to place the glass down when he feels a firm hold ride up his neck and to his jaw, pulling his attention right back to where it belongs.

Searing lips press and crash into his own, hard— shoving Kaveh into the divan.

The abrupt stop against the armrest has Kaveh losing grip of the glass, letting it fall to the ground below in an ear-piercing shatter.

Alhaitham doesn’t care.

He’s looming over Kaveh now, holding his jaw still as he takes away any capacity for thought Kaveh has. The sounds of their joint heavy breathing, coupled with gasps of air they steal in short bursts as they pull away, blare in Kaveh’s ears louder than anything he’s ever heard.

It’s all he can hear.

It’s everything.

Alhaitham pulls back momentarily, looking down at Kaveh with heavy lids and a firm grasp on his jaw. He’s heaving for any air he can get. The few, scarce moments his lips were against Kaveh’s have made him look beyond dishevelled and down right starved.

This sight before him feels sacred. Kaveh wants to burn this image into his mind and hide it far, far away. This is a sight meant for his eyes, and his eyes only.

With the knowledge that he’s the one who contributed to this joint disaster of theirs, Kaveh’s pride blooms in his chest in a way he hasn’t felt in years. It tugs at strings he didn’t know he had in him—

and it is addicting.

Kaveh did that.

His heart aches at the distance put between them, his skin feels cold and unruly.

He tugs Alhaitham’s shoulder to bring him down, chest against chest, for some semblance of warmth only he can provide. Run his hands into Alhaitham’s hair, pull his head closer to whisper the only thing on his mind.

“More.”

And when Alhaitham groans a low curse and a command for Kaveh to open his mouth again, he is none the wiser.

His lips part before he can ask, words left dead on his tongue when it meets Alhaitham’s. It presses in further than his index finger, and it has Kaveh chasing after the taste of his skin again. Hand fisting hair to pull Alhaitham’s head closer in a fight for authority, but his grip on Kaveh is unrelenting.

Kaveh’s chills have now blown out into a feverish ache.

A need for more— a need to be quelled and warmed.

It’s almost everything he’s ever wanted.

(Alhaitham must know it too.)

5. Delirium

Kaveh feared that suppressants would cause a rift between them.

His non-use of suppressants prior to their current engagement only makes his use of it now look all the more offensive— or at the very least, disconcerting. Thinking about it from Alhaitham’s point of view only seems to make it worse.

To know that Kaveh was comfortable enough being off suppressants as his roommate, but uncomfortable enough to begin them once they became closer.

Which is, understandably, a questionable move from Kaveh himself.

Alhaitham seems to know that it is, but has never once questioned why. Kaveh thought after that… stunt Alhaitham pulled last time, he’d have more to say, more to contend.

But he doesn’t.

Kaveh had hoped he would.

Every night, Alhaitham joins Kaveh on their middle divan with a glass of water and his suppressants on hand, entirely unprompted. He’ll turn to Kaveh and tell him to open up, like there aren’t any deeper implications to it.

Alhaitham knows what he’s doing. Kaveh knows what he’s doing too, and he turns a blind eye to it.

Because he wants it all the same.

Kaveh wants to pull Alhaitham close and feel their lips press into one another. He wants to feel that Alhaitham wants him just as much, and that he doesn’t have to utter a single word between them to make it known.

Kaveh sees how Alhaitham enjoys riling him up. He enjoys seeing Kaveh freeze and tense up with expectation of more.

But he never gives Kaveh any more.

Alhaitham will have the gall to use the very same, low tone to echo the words:

Go on. Drink.

Before redirecting his attention right back to his book of choice for the night. It leaves Kaveh on edge every single time, hopelessly stuck in a loop of recalling the same night over and over till it’s all he can think about—

Isn’t this what Kaveh was supposed to mitigate? That sleeping in Alhaitham’s bed was supposed to relieve this particular symptom of his?

Not aggravate him till his patience snaps.

So what if Kaveh has to initiate it?

When he finally jerks Alhaitham his way to kiss him, it’s just as heavy and heady as their last. It’s all he’s wanted and needed for the whole entire week.

The pecks, the soft and light kisses Kaveh stole from Alhaitham prior to this don’t compare— no, they can’t compare. They’ve never been to the extent he’d like, never as long as he’d like. They’re not enough.

Kaveh needs this.

And Alhaitham knows.

Kaveh feels the way Alhaitham smiles against his lips, the way the corners of his mouth pull arrogantly between airy breaths and quieter groans. It’s that irritating, content hum that he makes in the aftermath, seeing Kaveh winded before him, his resolve crumbling away in Alhaitham’s arms.

Alhaitham’s completely satisfied knowing all his work of driving Kaveh up the wall is finally paying off in his favour. That he isn’t above getting Kaveh to do as he wants, just as Kaveh does to him.

For the first time since he asked for Alhaitham’s blanket, Kaveh wonders if, perhaps, he’s the one in danger instead.

This is their push and pull.

Their call and response.

This becomes an integral part of their day-to-day life. From waking up in each other’s arms, to ending their day by pulling each other closer than the bounds of their flesh will allow.

Kaveh becomes antsy the longer this affair continues.

He feels a clock ticking away in the back of his mind. Alhaitham must feel it too. They can only keep up this song and dance of theirs for so long. It’s only a matter of time till one of them cracks, and they officiate what this relationship of theirs has become, or perhaps, what it has always been.

Their lines have been long blurred and made bleary. Unclear.

Longer than either of them know.

So when Kaveh feels their shared home spin at the core and a thin layer of sweat cling to his skin, whisking away the ever-building heat in his chest, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

His weight forces him to kneel onto their divan, panting and gasping for air.

Minute traces of Alhaitham’s pheromones linger through the air and bond onto every surface of their home. It weighs everywhere in the air, lodging itself into Kaveh’s lungs with every fiery breath he takes, spice and ginger catching at the back of his throat.

It’s different from the beloved, nostalgic scent he wakes up to every morning.

No.

This is piercing and fierce— it’s incense smoke that’s twice, thrice as amplified than usual. It displaces all the air in Kaveh’s lungs for itself, greedy for power and specifically power over Kaveh.

It’s a scent he’s felt only once before.

(That box Kaveh kept hidden away for safekeeping comes to mind, in all its shameful and humiliating glory.)

The thought has Kaveh’s cock hardened in interest.

Sweat slides down his temples and down to his jaw, slack and open as he takes heaves for any air he’ll be allowed. Kaveh needs to wrench himself up onto his knees, but he feels a damp spot growing behind.

That’s all the proof he needs to be certain of the one thing he’s feared the most— and Kaveh’s heart races in fear.

He’s in heat.

But he’s on suppressants, so how?

How did this happen? He’s been taking it everyday on the dot. And it’s not like he doesn’t have motivation behind it, he desperately fears what power his have heats over not just him, but Alhaitham too.

(Who said it had to be the both of them?)

Kaveh doesn’t want to believe it, but he doesn’t have the luxury of thinking about a solution now. Not when his hands are trembling and he feels trapped in his own skin.

He’s in danger.

He needs to head to his bedroom before Alhaitham comes back.

It takes every bone in his body to go against every thought he has to drag himself up and onto his feet. The floor feels like putty beneath him, but he has to trudge on through for his sake.

Alarm bells screech in his head as he hears the front door open.

Kaveh lunges himself forward onto any and every surface he can get a hold of for balance.

A few books and trinkets fall with a thud in his frenzy.

“What’s going on?” Alhaitham asks hurriedly before pausing to confirm the worst, “Kaveh, you’re—”

Kaveh needs to run.

“No, I can’t be. I’m not, Alhaitham.”

Kaveh hears Alhaitham’s shoes slip off. “Your pheromones.”

“I’m on suppressants.” Kaveh answer’s hurriedly, eyes glancing back and forth at the two corridors before him.

He feels cornered, hunted.

“Kaveh, I—”

Kaveh’s voice shakes, now frantic. His voice swells with every word his mind can muster. “No, no, no. Be quiet. Don’t come near me.”

He doesn’t want to turn back.

“Listen to me, please.” he pleads.

It has Kaveh sprinting for the door to his right, voice booming in his chest and head, “LEAVE.”

Once Kaveh slams the door behind him, the scent of deep incense permeating the air from behind him is weighty.

It has Kaveh dropping down to the floor breathless and eyes filled with hot tears. He tries to wrestle his clothes off him in any manner his hands can manage. It’s a haphazard fight he nearly loses, hands uncoordinated and head filled with a barrage of thoughts he can’t make sense of.

Those tears stream silently down his face, dropping onto the back of his hand below.

He’s scared.

He’s frustrated.

And when he feels his palm wrap around his cock and pump, hissing to himself as he leans back into Alhaitham’s doorway—

He’s unsatisfied.

.

.

.

How long has it been?

Kaveh groans softly into Alhaitham’s pillow, hips moving languidly as he eases his cock in and out of his fist. Every stroke has him hissing, especially as he pulls away and grazes the sore head with his thumb.

It hurts, it really does.

But feeling the mindless pleasure that comes from squeezing around his length far outweighs his discomfort.

His slickened hand helps too.

Kaveh will occasionally reach back to prod at his hole, coating his fingers with just enough slick before his shoulder begins to ache in pain.

He spent far too long fucking into himself with his shoulder jammed into the bed and his ass raised. Even then, Kaveh managed to shove two, then three fingers, just enough for the tip of his middle finger to prod at that delightful bundle of nerves. Riding out his first many orgasms as he clenched and spasmed around his fingers, feeling only just marginally full.

Not even marginally full.

His fingers don’t do much for him. He can barely reach his prostate without extending a joint or a muscle further than he’d like. What use are they?

How is he supposed to last a week like this?

He can’t. He just can’t.

A part of him wonders if choosing Alhaitham’s room at that moment was a mistake. Back in his room, he had a few toys and such that would’ve made his heat bearable, at the very least. Instead, he’s back to more primitive methods of pleasuring himself, and it’s not working too well for him.

A whimper escapes Kaveh as a jolt of pain runs through him. He grazed his thumb across a bit too firm.

But Kaveh knows exactly why he chose Alhaitham’s room. As panicked as he may have been, it was a conscious decision of his through and through.

His fist loosens around his cock in exchange for a handful of fabric.

Kaveh pulls the bunched up blanket between his legs up to his face, breathing in a wave of pheromones made just for him. It’s euphoric and it’s everything. The blanket and various clothes tucked away in his room couldn’t compete with this, not when it was freshly scented just this morning.

Or yesterday morning?

Kaveh doesn’t know. He closed the curtains before he got in bed.

That way he can fully immerse himself in Alhaitham’s scent, senses heightened just enough.

The darkness does him well. He has no useless visuals to distract him from the fiery coil building in his pelvis, and really, that’s all that matters to him. He can listen to all the sounds he makes, whether it be the wet smack of his fist down or the string of moans he manages to pull out of himself.

He wonders, then, if Alhaitham can hear him too.

That prospect has him quickly reaching down fucking into his fist harder and faster.

(Louder.)

As wonderful as Alhaitham’s pheromones are, it’s not enough— it, alone, can’t make Kaveh come.

His wrists ache.

He’s sore.

His lips are chapped and his mouth is dry.

There’s a clear solution here, one that Kaveh could resort to at any time— but he needs to wait. Hold off and be patient, he tells himself.

Maybe after he comes once, or twice, or five times will he gather the courage to put his thoughts into action. But until then, he’s stuck in Alhaitham’s sheets, face in Alhaitham’s pillow, running his imagination wild on all the things Alhaitham could be doing for Kaveh in this moment.

How he’d let Alhaitham tear this brand new blanket off of him, soaked in all the mess he’s made, and run his hands along Kaveh’s body to explore all that he has to offer Alhaitham.

There’s so much he could do.

And he isn’t.

What about his lips to pepper Kaveh with kisses?

What about his tongue to lick up any and all messes Kaveh makes?

What about his cock pressing up against Kaveh, in a way he knows would fill Kaveh up oh-so nicely?

A soft knock echoes from the bedroom door, somewhere to Kaveh’s left.

“Kaveh. I’ve left some fatteh and a jug of water by the door. Eat, soon.” Alhaitham’s voice resonates, muffled just a touch by the door between them. “Worry not, I’ll sleep in your room tonight.”

Who said Kaveh was worried about him?

(He could just come in. Kaveh never locks the door.)

Kaveh’s chest blooms in stark contrast to the numerous thoughts that’s running through his mind. He feels grateful, loved and cared for— but more than that, he wants to feel spoiled, pleasured and fucked senseless.

His wavering patience is being pulled a hair too thin, leaning forward to take long deep breaths for any amount of clarity he can gain.

It does not help.

“Kaveh?” His voice echoes.

Kaveh holds onto his cock in a long, firm stroke.

“Kaveh.” Quieter.

He hums back in response, breathy— shaky.

“Let me help?” Even quieter, now.

Kaveh’s breathing quickens, his hand now moving at an erratic rhythm. He turns his face into the pillow to muffle the tiny gasps of air he takes.

But Alhaitham must know.

“Let me take care of you.”

Kaveh’s toes curl at the command. He feels the exact moment that wound up coil in his pelvis snaps, coursing waves of bliss and ecstasy through Kaveh’s entire body. Whining low as he stirs and shivers into the bed, he weakly turns his head towards the bedroom door.

All he says, barely above a whisper, is, “It’s unlocked.”

A sudden stream of light shines into their room.

It has Kaveh shutting his eyes almost immediately, recoiling back into the pillow.

Brief paces make their way towards him, and Kaveh’s skin burns under the newfound attention. Before he can wonder what expression Alhaitham has at this moment, he feels the bed dent to his left and just as quickly, his lips meet with Alhaitham’s.

His tongue makes its way into Kaveh’s mouth and fills the air with sounds Kaveh knows is only going to become more obscene.

Cool hands run up the sides of his chest, one grabs a hold of his jaw and the other holds a handful of his hip. Kaveh gasps against Alhaitham’s lips, returning the gesture by wrapping his arms around his neck.

Pulling him closer and closer, nothing less than chest to chest.

Heavy, concentrated incense fills the air above him in a way shirts, blankets and pillows cannot compare. They do everything and more for Kaveh, proving to him that Alhaitham wants him just as Kaveh does.

That while Kaveh was busy fucking into himself, that was all Alhaitham thought about too.

Kaveh feels quite vulnerable under Alhaitham now. Fully naked except a blanket between his legs that does little to nothing hide his erection. As much as he’d love for Alhaitham to pull away and take in every sight his body has to offer, what Kaveh needs now is the feeling of his bare skin against Alhaitham’s own.

To feel them stick, pull and smack against each other.

His hands lower to dig at Alhaitham’s back, fisting amounts of his loose shirt Kaveh can manage.

Alhaitham curses against Kaveh’s lips, “Fuck. Easy, Kaveh.”

“Off.” Kaveh gasps, demands, “Take it off.”

Alhaitham concedes almost immediately, parting their lips and denting the bed further beside Kaveh.

Kaveh opens his eyes just enough to peek at Alhaitham, sitting on his knees to pull his shirt up and over his head. Once he discards the shirt onto the floor, he positions himself between Kaveh’s legs—

And Kaveh can finally see his expression.

Lit by just their corridor light, he looks tattered, exhausted and downright carnal. His eyes look ever so sunken in, the outer corners of which are drooping more than usual. In stark contrast, his ears and highs of his cheeks are flushed, his lips coated with a thin glaze of their saliva.

The sight before him drives Kaveh wild.

Alhaitham’s here, before him— his worries, concerns and need solely for Kaveh.

Alhaitham’s eyes glance down at Kaveh’s stomach.

“You’ve made an utter mess of yourself.” He drags the tip of his fingers down Kaveh’s abdomen and into the cum pooling down lower. Alhaitham trails his coated fingers lower, leaning forward and into Kaveh’s ear, “Tell me, was this earlier?”

A shudder runs right through Kaveh’s being.

“Wrong.” His hands return to Alhaitham’s head and he pulls down firmly, his voice, low, “This is hours and hours of fucking into myself because you wouldn’t, Alhaitham.”

Alhaitham groans into his neck, kissing his jaw and nipping at the skin on the side of his neck. His coated fingers graze the base of Kaveh’s cock, and he whimpers, voice shaky.

Kaveh can feel his haughty front about to break, but yet. “I wrung myself dry. Surely, you can do better?”

Not before he gets the last word in.

Kaveh feels the moment Alhaitham’s pheromones surge into something heavier. It’s no longer the same fond scent he wakes up to every morning, and it’s not what he felt by the divan either.

It’s overpowering, almost too much for Kaveh’s senses.

That beloved incense is lost to what were once his scents bottom notes. Fragrant spices, mint leaves and padisarah stigmas. Kaveh’s head spins, especially this close to Alhaitham’s scent gland.

Alhaitham’s fingers then pass his cock entirely in favour of his hole below, twitching at his touch. “Is that so, Kaveh?”

His middle finger prods and plays with the outer ring of muscle, dipping just the tip before pulling away. It’s frustrating. It has Kaveh wanting more that Alhaitham doesn’t seem to be intent on giving up right away.

So he opens his mouth in protest—

And then Alhaitham’s whole finger slides right in, hitting his prostate in a way Kaveh couldn’t do for himself.

Kaveh gasps and whines as Alhaitham fucks his fingers into him, going at a steady pace. He hears Alhaitham say something about how slick and soft he is, but all gets thrown to the wind when he adds two more fingers at the same time.

Kaveh cries out into a moan.

This.

This is what Kaveh had been trying to achieve on his own.

Three fingers snug, driving themselves into his prostate in quick succession, building that pressure in his pelvis in the most delightful way— all while Kaveh basks in the purest form of Alhaitham’s scent.

Words turn from a string of yeses into incoherency quickly, building up to a loud wail as he feels his orgasm build quickly after his last.

Until it doesn’t.

Alhaitham pulls his fingers away, and Kaveh’s left thrashing under him, brought so, so close.

Kaveh’s hands drop to his chest as Alhaitham pulls away. His eyes are now bleary and unfocused, filled with tears. His head spins and his hands make their way down to Alhaitham’s waistband, hooking his fingers over the rim and drawing them down, only his fingertips reaching to graze Alhaitham’s dick.

Even after he blinks his tears away, dizziness prevents Kaveh from making out what’s before him.

He wants to see Alhaitham’s expression, know exactly what he’s doing and how he’s doing it. See the way his skin glistens in the light with sweat from the warmth that they share. Blurry shapes and spinning colours leave far too much for his failing imagination to fill in.

Kaveh hears plastic rip.

Then, soon enough, he feels something hot against his entrance.

Alhaitham leans back down to kiss Kaveh. It’s something more tender and soft, placed with care— a world of a difference from their nightly makeouts and morning pecks. It feels loving, and Kaveh loves it just the same.

Alhaitham whispers, unsure, “Tell me when—”

“Please, Alhaitham.” Kaveh voices out between breaths, “Hurry.”

And for once, there is no snide remark back. Just his lips against Kaveh’s, a hand holding the top of his head, and his cock pushing into Kaveh in a long, smooth motion.

All air is knocked out of his lungs.

Kaveh can barely breathe and he doesn’t care.

He feels full, so terribly full and it’s perfect.

The world comes to a standstill between them as all Kaveh can think about is how perfect he feels. How perfectly Alhaitham nestles inside him, pushing firmly right against where he loves it the most. Just how perfect Alhaitham is in this moment, joined together in a moment Kaveh has been anticipating for months.

Their groans and gasps echo off the walls of their bedroom and meld into one. Hips smack against skin as Alhaitham sets an ever increasing rhythm, earning him even louder cries out of Kaveh.

Kaveh feels as that coil rebuilds and overwhelms him quickly like this.

His voice crescendos into pleas, begging Alhaitham to keep going— to fuck him fast and hard through his coming orgasm. He locks his legs around Alhaitham’s waist, keeping him in place.

And soon enough, Kaveh topples over into a wave of strong convulsions, practically screaming Alhaithams name in a prayer for more, nails catching on deeply dented skin.

Every heat he spent alone and dissatisfied, every day he endured off suppressants is worth every moment of this and more.

It is perfection in every sense of the word.

Kaveh goes completely slack in Alhaitham’s hold, panting heavily to feed back into his oxygen deprived lungs.

Alhaitham continues to move at a slower pace, pushing in deep where Kaveh borders on overstimulation, before pulling out just enough for him to recover.

His eyes lazily look at Alhaitham looming above him, watching him with intentful eyes and with the warmest smile he’s seen from him since their Akademiya days. It reminds Kaveh that no matter what they’ve gone through to get here, they’re still them.

Kaveh cups Alhaithams face with whatever energy he can muster up, running his thumbs over drops of sweat.

“Look at you. You did so well for me.” He says, smiling warmly. His eyes flicker down to Alhaitham’s movements, slower now, “You haven’t come yet, have you?”

Alhaitham leans into Kaveh’s touch, eyes closed with a soft shake of his head, “No matter. This was for you.”

When Kaveh feels Alhaitham pull out, despite his legs’ feeble attempt to keep him there, he brings Alhaitham’s face down closer to his own. Kaveh presses a kiss into his forehead, his lightly flushed cheeks and finally, his lips, where Kaveh lingers and holds him the longest.

Pulling away, Kaveh hums, “That won’t do, Alhaitham.”

Kaveh turns to lie on his side with some difficulty, pulling a pillow under his head.

“I’m nowhere near done. I thought you knew how my heats were?” he teases.

Alhaitham lies down behind Kaveh, “Hearing and experiencing are two different things.”

Kaveh huffs at Alhaitham’s response. He pushes himself against Alhaitham’s chest, hand reaching back to bring his own to place on Kaveh’s chest. He raises one leg up and back, resting it on Alhaitham’s legs.

“Back inside me,” Kaveh orders.

A free hand reaches around his neck to bring his hair to one side and bear his neck, “And bite me while you are.”

A body-wide tremble rushes through as he feels Alhaitham let out a long, shaky exhale against the nape of his neck, filling Kaveh with all too much love and pride.

“Kaveh—”

“No take backs.”

Alhaitham sighs in Kaveh’s ear, “Archons. You are an insufferable one.”

“Don’t you know it?” Kaveh teases, smiling.

All too satisfied with himself.

Alhaitham hums in agreement.

He revels in the feeling of Alhaitham entering him again, just as exhilarating as the first. When he bottoms out, it's almost too much. Too sensitive and all too full. Still, it feels right, like this is what he’s been missing all along.

Kisses litter the back of his neck at first, turning into nips against his skin not long after Alhaitham begins to move.

Alhaitham’s fingers dig into whatever reprieve Kaveh’s chest can offer.

Quiet gasps and low hums fill his ears.

Kaveh finds Alhaitham’s desperation and delight adorable, the anticipation of his teeth buried in Kaveh’s flesh fills him with a swell of excitement he’s wanted for months.

After all—

It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

Made all the more sweeter by a strip of missing sugar pills he found the night before.

+1. Control

Alhaitham’s not a fool.

Save that for rent. I do have another one.

He’s always known exactly what he was doing, and how to do it.

He knew all the repercussions of his actions, and what it could’ve meant for them.

Though Alhaitham has most people believe he isn’t one to take calculated risks, that simply isn’t the whole picture, but it’s enough for most. Because the only time he’s ever willing to take such calculated risks is—

when it involves Kaveh.

Kaveh, on the other hand, would be a fool if he didn’t notice.

He’s spent enough time quietly observing and bickering with Alhaitham over the years to pick up on certain tells he has.

Alhaitham hums when he’s pleased, yes— but morely, it’s when he’s pleased with himself. Oftentimes when he does, it’s befitting of the situation. Like when he bickers with Kaveh and wins, or when Kaveh says something he likes.

But other times, it’s harder to notice.

Like when he silently listens and agrees with Kaveh.

He hums, because it benefits him too.

Similarly, Alhaitham has a tendency of taking a quick glance when he’s lying. This one is by far the hardest to catch, lasting only a split second. Not to mention, he could blink half-way through, and Kaveh misses it entirely.

At the same time, Kaveh seems to guess that there’s some range to it.

The bigger the lie, the more he does it.

But this is a part of Alhaitham he has many more years to study and learn about, if only a bit ineffectively. Alhaitham doesn’t strike him as the type to continue lying to his mate, after all.

Well, unless it’s to get something he wants.

And if that’s within Kaveh’s means, who’s to say otherwise?

Who is he, as Alhaitham’s mate, to deny him of that? The very reason they became mates is all thanks to Kaveh, after all. What can he say? He loves this push and pull part of Alhaitham more than he’d like to admit.

It’s a part of him still unchanged by time.

That even if his features are no longer soft with pure eyes to match, even with a mature look and a rougher exterior, he still holds the very same mannerisms Kaveh holds near and dear.

It makes Kaveh feel that those years apart were nothing but a drop in the ocean.

Minor.

In a way, it works in Kaveh’s favour.

It makes Alhaitham’s little changes and expressions stand out to him all the more, along with all the sides of him Kaveh has yet to see.

Kaveh dances his fingers over Alhaitham’s sleeping face, feeling the way his lips push back against the tips of Kaveh’s fingers. They graze Alhaitham’s cheeks, warm and lit by the morning sun, trailing up to the cuff of his ears.

It’s not often he sees Alhaitham’s ears.

Whether because he has his ear-pieces on, or his hair simply covers most of it.

But here, and now, with his hair falling down his face, his ears are in clear view.

Kaveh fingers wrap around the back, his thumb caressing soft motions over the front of his ears— and they’re warm. Warmer than his cheeks and lips, and when Kaveh pulls away, he’s delighted to find them flushed his favourite shade of red.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?”

Alhaitham hums back a lazy response, pulling Kaveh’s chest in closer to block out the rays of light that grace him.

“Since when?” Kaveh asks softly, hooking strands of stray, silvery hairs back.

“Would be more surprising if I wasn’t.”

Alhaitham speaks against Kaveh’s chest, muffed and warm.

It tickles his skin.

“I can’t imagine it bothers you.” Kaveh adds, stroking Alhaitham’s ears.

“If it did?”

“No matter.” Kaveh pauses his movements, peering down to look at Alhaitham. “I can ease out of the habit.”

Alhaitham stays silent, pondering.

“Would you like that?” Kaveh whispers, resting his arm onto Alhaitham’s shoulder.

“No.”

Kaveh smiles.

Alhaitham’s hand comes up to place Kaveh’s against the side of his face, particularly to graze against his ears, which are now redder than ever. It’s terribly sweet seeing him come clean and honest with what he wants for once.

Kaveh takes in the soft incense and florals Alhaitham offers him with great gratitude. Calm, content and complete.

“Continue.”

And so he does.

Kaveh continues his path over his ears and against his jaw, feeling his breathing ease against his chest. In his mind, he notes all the little moles and blemishes he can see, as well as how his skin feels beneath Kaveh’s fingers. It does well to keep him entertained as Alhaitham’s hold on his hip relaxes and he slips back into a lazy morning slumber.

It’s one of Alhaitham’s favourite things to do.

It’s also one of Kaveh’s favourite things to see.

When they finally wake to begin the day, much to Alhaitham’s disinterest, it’s slow and leisurely, taking advantage of their shared day off.

As they sit back onto their middle divan with their morning cups of coffee, Alhaitham quietly listens and nods as Kaveh tells him about the work he needs to get done today. Kaveh’s coffee has long cooled and Alhaitham is nearly done, but it’s no matter.

Kaveh’s heart swells with warmth without it.

His neck twinges with heat in a way he delights greatly in.

Alhaitham speaks up from his long silence, “You’re meeting Tighnari today?”

Kaveh nods, “Met him down at Pardis Dhyai, turns out my client is his junior.”

“I see. Any plans?”

“Probably just patroll the forest with him. Just Forest Ranger things.”

Alhaitham hums, “That’s all?”

“What else are we to do? When is he ever off ranger duty, Alhaitham?” Kaveh snickers.

“Lambad’s is always an option in the evenings.”

Kaveh leans into Alhaitham’s shoulder, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Not as much as you seem to like my bed.”

Alhaitham tilts his head onto Kaveh’s own. The weight of his body feels nice against Kaveh’s, although peering up at the man seems to reveal him frowning just a bit.

“More than you, actually.” Kaveh teases.

“Don’t doubt that.”

“Come on,” Kaveh brings his hand to Alhaitham’s knee, soothing soft strokes in reassurance, “do you believe I would’ve gotten into just anyone’s bed while drunk?”

Kaveh feels a smile playing at his lips, curious as to what he’ll say.

“Tighnari’s, perhaps.”

Oh, Alhaitham.

“Hadn’t you considered nesting with him?”

He should know that was never a possibility in play.

Not when Alhaitham made sure of it by bringing him to bed every night.

Kaveh would’ve never gone through with it regardless. He was more than content with seeing Alhaitham riled up and on the verge of telling Kaveh that, in reality, he didn’t want Kaveh to go to Tighnari’s.

Either because he was unsure of what Kaveh would say, or because his pride couldn’t allow it.

Him? Feeling envious of their friend for nesting with Kaveh?

(Despite knowing it’d be platonic?)

Actually.

Maybe Kaveh would have gone to Tighnari’s.

See what Alhaitham had to say then, or what he’d do after— but Kaveh really couldn’t have foreseen him hiding the letter. Kaveh may not have seen Alhaitham’s expression or tells in that moment, but he knew.

Tighnari has never been one to put off a letter for more than three days.

So, then, what else could’ve Alhaitham lied about? Just to keep Kaveh near?

Even now, as Alhaitham leans his body weight into him, unhappy about him leaving to meet Tighnari— Kaveh simply couldn’t be happier.

He feels loved and wanted, in all the best of ways.

“Kaveh?” Alhaitham asks, dragging him right out of his daydreams.

Kaveh hums, happy.

“Drink. Finish up so I can kiss you.”

Oh.

He’s sulking, how cute.

“Don’t use that voice with me.” Kaveh adds, trying to pull away from Alhaitham to look at him head on, but he’s unrelenting. Stubborn. “That’s just foul of you.”

“Is that a no?”

“Let me go before I drop this too.” Kaveh sneers.

When Kaveh pulls away successfully, he turns to lightly jab into Alhaitham’s side as he wrenches himself back up to a seated position.

“You’re taking too long.” Alhaitham reminds.

Maybe he is.

But Kaveh loves poking fun at him.

Though it often proves to be too much for his little junior.

“Patience.” Kaveh echoes, “Patience, Alhaitham.”

Kaveh sets his coffee cup right besides Alhaitham’s and leans forward, his morning hair falling to a curtain at the sides of their faces. He cups Alhaitham’s face to press a reassuring kiss into his forehead first.

“Come here, silly.”

Kaveh’s heart grows ever-more-fond of Alhaitham.

Alhaitham steals a few more kisses from Kaveh’s lips in the process of getting ready and out the door, hesitant to let Kaveh go. He holds Kaveh in their entryway, practically cornered, as his hands try to find whatever excuse to keep Kaveh there.

It’s not like Kaveh doesn’t know what he’s afraid of.

But that’s exactly why there’s no issue.

Eventually, Kaveh tells Alhaitham he needs to go before Tighnari’s patrol begins. It’d be troublesome if he was late, Alhaitham knows how Tighnari is about time.

Displeased, he begrudgingly let’s Kaveh go.

Not before making him promise to be home soon— which is more than fine by him. Kaveh never intended to be long, after all. He’s simply wrapping up a few loose ends so he can give Alhaitham all his undivided attention onwards.

Though, Kaveh would be lying if he didn’t also want to see Alhaitham’s reaction.

What can he say?

It’s just one of the few secrets he’ll be taking to his grave.

(For his eyes, and his eyes only.)

The pathway from Sumeru City down to Gandharva Ville has always felt right to Kaveh. It’s not too long, not too short.

There’s a bit of a crowd at both ends, but so does every settlement.

Regardless, the barren pathways with fine scenery give Kaveh enough time to let his thoughts wander and rearrange themselves. Everything ranging from what's new and changed in the past few months, to making sure he has his story straight.

A few revisions later, Kaveh finds himself at Tighnari’s little dwelling.

He knocks at the wooden adhigama frame and awaits a reply.

Only for the man in question to pop up behind him, causing Kaveh to jump in response. Tighnari looms over Kaveh’s shoulder and asks, “Aren’t you a bit late? Patrol was supposed to begin 10 minutes ago.”

“Archons, then what are you doing here?” Kaveh says.

“Coming back home.” Tighnari states plainly.

“That quickly?”

“A patrol? No, of course not.” Tighnari heads on into his home and gestures for Kaveh to follow. “Amir and a couple others took Collei and Sag on a faux Search and Rescue mission. Since Collei’s involved, they ended up doing the patrol way before it was my turn to do so.”

“Good on them. Gotta keep little Collei safe.”

Tighnari sits up onto his bed, and Kaveh soon follows.

“I mostly think this was their way of getting me to stay home, but who am I to complain?” Tighnari turns to Kaveh, “Speaking of staying home—”

Until he pauses mid-sentence, squinting hard at Kaveh.

Tighnari tilts his head to one side and his ears twitch, eyes widening at the realisation he saw right the first time.

“Was about to ask why you never came by to nest, but it seems you got that sorted.” He mocks, jamming an elbow to Kaveh’s side. “What happened to my offer? Did Alhaitham make you a more compelling one?”

Kaveh laughs clumsily, “I was going to take you up on it, I swear.”

“Then what? Changed your mind?”

Tighnari’s tail begins to sway in interest.

“Not exactly. Remember how I thought about taking suppressants to ease my mood swings?” Kaveh asks.

“Did you even read my letter?”

“I did! Though, just last night.” Kaveh sighs heavily, adding shortly after, “Had to badger Alhaitham to bring it back from his office.”

“Office?” Tighnari echoes.

Kaveh recalls his first day of heat.

How he practically tore out Alhaitham’s clothes out of his drawers and wardrobes. Every part of his being wanted more of Alhaitham that he was willing to allow then. All he could hope was that they were enough to make a snug enough nest.

Even in the absence of Alhaitham.

Not like that was ever possible, but his heat-addled mind was desperate enough to find any substitutions he could make. Anything to fill that void in his chest. Instead, what he found made him forget all of that, even if momentarily.

As it turns out, Alhaitham isn’t the best at hiding things.

Kaveh sighs, just a hair away from fond, “They had the gall to deliver it straight to the Grand Sage’s office because it had his address on it. Home address.”

There, tucked away behind pairs of trousers, laid two things.

“That’s… hilariously unfortunate for you. Did he read it?”

An unopened letter from Tighnari—

“Better yet, he forgot to bring it home.”

—and his very own suppressants.

“That’s on you for living with O’Grand Sage Alhaitham.”

Kaveh still remembers the surge of exhilaration he felt in that moment. How sick, twisted and downright pleased he felt once he found them. He believed that Alhaitham was blissfully unaware and that Kaveh had the edge up on him— that he was the bigger one in their back and forths. Kaveh was so, so certain he was every step ahead of Alhaitham, only for him to realise he was not.

In fact, he hadn’t been for a good while.

His junior had learned.

And Kaveh?

Kaveh was right to feel in danger.

Perhaps it was the desync from his mind that believed he was on suppressants, against his biology that knew he wasn’t, that fed into that overwhelm when his heat hit. The pure, unadulterated fear and excitement he felt in that moment was unlike something he’d ever felt.

When the front door opened behind him, he was already moving.

Even if he didn’t want to.

Kaveh had no control.

It’s a familiar feeling to him as an omega. Feeling eyes plastered on him, hair standing on his back. Wanting to run to safety where no one can touch him, smell him— catch him.

He’s used to feeling below.

Used to feeling like a prey let loose only for him to fight a losing battle, whether it's for things he does, or things he doesn’t do.

This kind of push and pull is something Kaveh has faced a lot in his life.

“Regardless— he’s still my junior.” Kaveh adds.

So, when it came to Alhaitham, Kaveh decided to take charge of his own fate for once. To take what he wanted, indulge in all he needed.

It was a breath of fresh air he rightly deserved after years of being hunted.

Just once, Kaveh told himself.

He wanted to be the hunter.

“Now turned mate.” Tighnari taunts back.

And this time, when the tides turned on him and he became the hunted—

Kaveh didn’t mind one bit.

“Lover.” Kaveh corrects.

(Their fate was sealed from the very beginning.)