Archive of Our Own

Faranak parroted the same fairy tale to Kaveh as a boy per his constant request: the story of Rudaba the Aswar, a noble justice-bringer clad in armor with a sword at her side and her heart on her sleeve. 

The most popular story about Rudaba the Aswar was “The Fifty Days of Labor,” where Rudaba stops by an impoverished village while on an expedition, and without requesting compensation, stays behind to help the villagers rebuild after their infrastructure was destroyed. The tale goes through the different people she meets in the village, and the trials she overcomes trying to aid them in creating more fulfilling lives. At times, her naïvety and generosity hinders her plans, but she always manages to come out on top. Coincidentally, “Rudaba” also meant, shining child of light.

“I always liked the name ‘Rudaba.’ For a baby girl,” said Kaveh, palm flush to his flat stomach.

Alhaitham pushed up his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, glancing up from the pages of his book. “Kaveh, let’s not name the fetus we’re terminating.”

★・★

Sweat glued Kaveh’s bangs to his forehead, yet to recover from the sudden and unexpected knotting of his person. An airy grin led his bright expression, his gentle footfalls treading from the bedroom to the kitchen, where Alhaitham plated their breakfasts. Kaveh made it to the table just in time, Alhaitham planting the hot meal before him. Steam evaporated from his food—the simple marriage of egg and muttabaq which never failed to impress—and Kaveh gleefully thanked Alhaitham for treating him. 

“It’s the least I could do,” replied Alhaitham, leaving his mouth ajar as if he had more to say—then shutting it promptly. He made himself at home opposite Kaveh, digging into his own portion. He plunged his fork into the golden brown bread, stabbing; twisting; tearing; consuming. 

Kaveh ate slower, attention fixed more on the man who was inside of him fifteen minutes ago. It went unreturned, until Alhaitham was scraping his plate clear and had nothing left to stall his open mouth.

“So,” he started, biting down on his lip in a feeble attempt to quell his tension. “There’s no easy way to have this discussion, so I’m going to be completely candid with you, as I expect the same in return. If you were to fall pregnant, whatever the chances are,” Alhaitham paused, analyzing Kaveh’s blank expression before continuing, “I would ask you to abort the fetus. I don’t say this lightly, as I know it’s an invasive procedure. I would cover the whole process financially, and provide for you whatever you’ll require to recover.”

Alhaitham’s plea echoed in Kaveh’s mind.

Let me knot you and it’s yours. Let me deal with the aftermath. 

Kaveh lowered his gaze, dropping his silverware on the table, clenched fists collapsing into his lap. 

This was the ‘aftermath.’

Was it ever going to be anything but this?

He didn’t fight it—just swallowed and nodded as his heart throbbed against his chest, pulsing against his body from the inside, yearning for freedom. It was a simple enough request from Alhaitham, logically sound and courteously phrased. 

“You seem apprehensive,” said Alhaitham, reaching across the table and holding out his open palm. He waved his fingers, and Kaveh took the cue to place his hand in Alhaitham’s. “But this is what’s best for both of us, unequivocally. I shouldn’t have to list all the reasons why, but with your work being so time-consuming and considering your…economic position…it’s the right choice. I also am not good with children.” Alhaitham squeezed Kaveh’s hand, then released him. “I don’t like them. I wouldn’t be of much help raising one, to be frank. No offense to my hypothetical progeny.” 

“No, yeah,” said Kaveh suddenly, wheezing out a nervous chuckle. “I- I get it. I’ve never thought about you having kids. I couldn’t see fatherhood in you if I tried.” 

It was true he hadn’t thought of Alhaitham as an aspiring father, but the moment Kaveh uttered his rejection of Alhaitham’s potential parenthood, the words felt like a lie. 

“Great,” said Alhaitham, standing from the table. “So we’re on the same page. Excellent. Let me know if anything arises or if you miss a heat—I’ll get you a pregnancy test that instant. Now if we’re done here,” he cleared his throat, stepped away from the table, and pushed in his chair. “I have a fascinating new read by an Inazuman semiotician with my name written on it. Dishes are your duty today, since I made us breakfast.”

Kaveh watched him leave, vanishing along with his appetite. Alhaitham’s bedroom door closed shut out of sight, its lock clicking in succession. Though Kaveh knew it to not be a malicious act, he winced at the noise regardless. He then abandoned his unfinished plate, a sensation of filth and grime creeping up his back. 

Never had a conversation with Alhaitham left him feeling so dirty, so impure. 

He resigned himself to the bathroom before he’d weigh himself down with the familiar burden of household chores.

The semen crusted between Kaveh’s thighs was easy enough to wash off. The handprinted bruises still branded to his hips, however, did not go away with soap and water. 

Once he was as clean as possible, he drained the bath and dried off. He wrapped a towel around his chest and walked straight from the bathroom to his bedroom, wet hair leaving behind a watery trail. 

The house still smelled of mutabbaq. Dirty dishes awaited him thanklessly on the kitchen table.

★・・★

The sun poked its early morning rays through Kaveh’s window, casting upon his and Alhaitham’s tangled, nude figures. For some moments, there was overwhelming warmth, rousing dawnlight, and the steady rise and fall of Alhaitham’s chest. 

Kaveh had yet to finish reeling from the prior night’s events, when Alhaitham walked in on him getting off. And to think Alhaitham would still be there in the morning, willingly sharing a bed when he could sprawl out on his own—it was flattery enough to Kaveh, a red tint crossing his cheeks at the fact. 

Then the nausea came, less as a wave and more a tsunami, ushering Kaveh to the bathroom with haste.

He spent the next hour hurling into a bowl, head in his palms and tears staining the corners of his eyes. At some point, he heard the front door shut, then later open again, Alhaitham returning to the bathroom doorway with a piece of white plastic in his hand. He handed it to Kaveh, then left without a word.

So much for the night before.

The longest three minutes of Kaveh’s life passed then as he stared at the test in his hands, a single line cloning itself in two. 

He was still shocked as if he wasn’t knotted in heat. As if the potential thrill of an accidental pregnancy hadn’t excited him. As if he hadn’t thought about feeling Alhaitham fill him over and over and over again, risks be damned. 

As if his heart wasn’t racing just imagining raising a kid with Alhaitham.

Kaveh’s palms clammed up and he sucked in his lip. There were a million ways he could navigate this situation—yet the choice was stripped by his own anxiety, instead forcing Kaveh into a fetal position on the cold tile floor. 

Alhaitham would find him passed out there half an hour later.

★・・・★

In Kaveh’s opinion, the first time they fucked, shockingly, was the best sex they’d ever had together. Everything after was a weathered, pitiful imitation of Alhaitham’s knot stretching out Kaveh’s insides. Alhaitham never rutted again after restarting his suppressants, but continued sleeping together nonetheless—if for any reason beyond pure physicality, Kaveh couldn’t fathom why. 

The topic of contraceptives had yet to enter the picture. He wondered if Alhaitham would even mention it before the procedure, or if he’d wait until their gestating child was dead to shirk off wearing a condom. 

But until then, there was no consequence to filling Kaveh with semen, day after day. 

As if either of them were protesting.

Kaveh prostrated down against the cypress table, pressing his cheek to the wood, dotted by rings of condensation from iced drinks. His hands searched for anything to hold on to, but was given no leverage when Alhaitham entered him from behind with a sigh, thumbs taut on his lower spine. 

“You’re tight,” said Alhaitham. “Here I thought pregnancy widened the hips.”

Kaveh could tell he was grinning from his tone, but hadn’t the energy to entertain his quips. 

“Hasn’t been long enough,” muttered Kaveh, any further words obfuscated by the furniture. 

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d imagine you’re trying to milk another kid out of me. Funny.” 

Kaveh laughed weakly, as if the domestic life with Alhaitham he’s fantasized about for the past month was a huge joke. 

“You’re quiet today,” added Alhaitham, digging his fingers into Kaveh’s back. Kaveh grit his teeth and seethed, back arching and softly yelping as Alhaitham exerted pounds of pressure against his spine. 

“That’s more like it,” he said, tracing his hand from Kaveh’s shoulder to his ass. “Making me handle you whenever your heat flares—the least you could do is sound pretty for me while I do it.”

If he was trying to be hot, he was failing miserably—words churning up a storm of nausea within Kaveh’s stomach. Whether or not he noticed the beading tears in the corner of Kaveh’s eye, he leaned down and whispered from behind into his ear, “You’re always so good at that, baby; sounding, looking beautiful for me. So effortlessly gorgeous when you take my cock.” 

It should have comforted Kaveh to hear such praise. Yet his nausea only intensified. He slumped down completely on the table, burying his face in his arms and away from Alhaitham—who continued railing into him without question. 

There were hands on Kaveh’s hips, pulling him up, holding him still. At one point there was a fistful of hair yanked back rough as his hole was fucked rougher. He hadn’t lost all perception of tactile sensation, but the matters of who or when or why he felt what he did became of lesser importance than zoning out and embracing the empty-headed bliss which overcame his mind every now and then—particularly since discovering the pregnancy. 

They—or really just Alhaitham—had finished before Kaveh knew it. When the fog in his head began to dissipate, though, Alhaitham flipped his body around and began to kiss down his bare chest and stomach. 

“Your turn,” he said, licking his thumb and rubbing it against Kaveh’s semi-hard cockhead. 

The fog condensated once more. Kaveh laid back and let it all overwhelm him. 

★・・・・★

She would’ve been a girl, thought Kaveh.

He would take time off work to take care of their child in her first few years of life. He’d be fine staying home most days, taking her out with him while he went shopping, an artifact of innocence cradled to his hip. He’d enjoy taking on the responsibilities of finding the best crib, the healthiest food, and the comfiest clothes. 

He’d want to do her hair and get her dressed. He’d want to spend as much time as possible with their daughter, to note her first steps, her first word, and the otherwise mundane things that would be life-changing to her developing self. 

Would she like watching Kaveh draw? Would she like listening to Alhaitham read to her? Whose eyes would she get? Whose tastes would she take after? She’d certainly become an academic—which Darshan would she follow? Would she roll her eyes with everyone else or champ at the bit to battle her Uncle Cyno in Genius Invokation?

She wasn’t even the length of a fingernail in size. How someone so small could turn Kaveh inside out was beyond him.

★・・・・・★

Someone shot a Shh! Kaveh’s way as he stormed into the House of Daena, the heels of his uniform shoes stomping down the marble floor. The subtle confrontation jolted him from his one-track mind, but he continued straight ahead anyway on his mission, fists balled at his side. He spotted Alhaitham at his usual haunt from a distance, his silver cut a beacon amongst the brown and black-haired masses. 

“You!” hissed Kaveh, jabbing a finger toward his research partner. “Tell me why yet another student collaborator is dropping from the project? What are you doing to these people, Haitham?!”

Alhaitham placed his thick read on the table—something with too few pictographs for Kaveh’s right-brained mind—and stood up. He was sitting by his lonesome, per usual, but Kaveh would be lying if he said he didn’t feel eyes on them.

“Which one?”

“Which one? Haitham, at the start of the semester we had eight other people interested in working on this. The last of them just told me he doesn’t ‘feel comfortable’ doing this anymore, and I know it’s not because of something I said.”

Alhaitham stared blankly back, then sighed through his nose. “I didn’t say anything either. If our collaborators can’t handle the equal workload they are assigned, then maybe they simply aren’t cut out to work on our team.”

“Not everyone has the time or energy we do to spare on this, Haitham!” Kaveh’s eyebrows knit together in frustration. “And we aren’t finishing this together alone, we need the help!”

“No we don’t,” said Alhaitham, “we’re literally weeks from the deadline. We’re almost done. It’s their loss for signing off so late.”

“Did you want to hog the credit? Why are you so dismissive of our peers?”

“It’s not the credit I’m after,” said Alhaitham, “but if these peers weren’t up to the task, then credit is the last thing they’re owed.”

“Archons, you’re heartless!” Kaveh’s lip quivered. He wondered if Alhaitham knew what everyone was saying about them. He wondered if it would even change anything. “They’re owed a second chance if they mess up once, at least!”

“What’s the big deal to you?” asked Alhaitham. “You aren’t friends with these people. Don’t you loathe when someone skips out on work in class but makes the grade anyway?”

“That’s completely different and you know it.”

“We aren’t the only undergrads organizing a group thesis like this. They can find another organizer, if we’re too demanding.”

“Haitham,” Kaveh forwent his anger to pleaing. “People are saying things about us now. Stuff about…you purposefully demanding too much of our peers so we can be alone.”

“Schoolyard gossip,” dismissed Alhaitham, waving a hand in the air. He sat back down in his chair and picked up the book again, only for Kaveh to force his hand in the way, shoving its spine back down against the table. “What? Does it offend you to be perceived that way with me?”

“No, Haitham,” huffed Kaveh, a sharp sting cutting through his head. He raised his hand to his temple. “Ugh, you’re actually giving me a migraine. Let’s talk about this later…just don’t expect anyone else to show up at the research lab today but me.”

“Everyone else tended to be tardy anyway,” remarked Alhaitham snidely. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised how much work we’ll get done this afternoon.”

Kaveh held his breath and turned away. He assumed his own face red with passion, simultaneously so bothered and disappointed with how the presentation was turning out. 

He wondered if there was any credence to the claims of the Akademiya’s students. What if Alhaitham only wanted the project to be a creation of the two of them? What if letting their peers in—less experienced, less learned, but no less driven—had been a fallacious positive Kaveh held faith in?

The House of Daena was far behind him before he could come up with an answer. 

★・・・・・・★

Sitting in a pouch in Kaveh’s palm was a pill of termination. It was a circular white tablet larger than the fetus growing inside him that Alhaitham left one morning on the kitchen table. No note was required, Kaveh knew what it meant. 

He held onto it for a few days. When the time came, he decided he’d rather not be around Alhaitham when their would-be child was to eject itself as a mass of gore from Kaveh’s womb.

“I’m going to Tighnari’s for a day or two,” announced Kaveh, overnight clothes already packed in a bag at his side.

Alhaitham didn’t shift his gaze from the pages of his novel. “Okay,” he said, an odd gentleness to his tone. “See you then.”

Yet the lack of response was a gut punch. Kaveh sucked in a breath and walked out of the house, the door closing shut behind him. 

It wasn’t too intense a trek from their house to Gandhara Ville, and Kaveh wasn’t nearly pregnant enough for mobility to raise an issue. He was fine making the trip alone—his thoughts served as greater threats than any hostile beasts he could possibly run into.

How would Rudaba fare in the jungle? Would she like the walks, holding her parents’ hands and pointing out all the pretty flowers? Would she ask them to perform tricks with their visions over and over again? Would she get a vision, some day? 

What if she got a vision, or eventually asked to attend the Akademiya? Kaveh could already picture himself anxious about letting her go, ever the doting type. Alhaitham would be there beside him, squeezing him and kissing his cheek and reminding him, She’s fourteen now, she’s almost a young woman. 

You’re right, Kaveh would reply, it just feels like yesterday she was-

Learning how to swim in the riverbank by Port Ormos? I feel the same.

Hot salty tears suddenly lapped down Kaveh’s cheeks, sobering him from his delusion. 

Gandhara Ville sat over the horizon. He’d make it just before sundown.

★・・・・・・・★

Kaveh swore Alhaitham nearly caved. He saw it in his cyan eyes, the lingering stare on the children’s clothing they walked by in the market. In the few times they shopped together during his pregnancy, Kaveh knew the family they could build was slipping through his fingers; he grieved each passing patterned dress and tiny pair of buckled shoes unable to house more than his thumb. 

There was a scoff at Kaveh’s side. He turned to meet a scowling Alhaitham, whose expression softened the moment he realized he had an audience.

“Sorry,” he spat out, “what else did we need?”

Kaveh fished into his pocket for the crumpled piece of parchment Alhaitham tore and used as a grocery list. 

“Um…I think we’ve got everything. Unless you wanted to try a new coffee blend?”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow then shrugged. “Up to you. I’m fine with the one we have at home.”

“Might as well,” said Kaveh, weaving past Alhaitham through the bazaar towards their go-to coffee bean stand. Batches of bagged coffee beans lay organized on a large table, all labeled with varying colors and names. The smell—one usually comforting to Kaveh, a bitter promise of alertness—read vile through his nose, threatening to retch vomit from his stomach. He clutched his womb and doubled over. Alhaitham instantly steadied him, arm around his body, keeping Kaveh from the cobblestone ground. 

“Hey, Kaveh, what’s going on?” 

Kaveh strained to shake his head, and Alhaitham guided him away from the crowd. 

“I hesitate to even ask…” Alhaitham paused, sitting Kaveh on the ground underneath some shade. “Have you eaten today?”

Kaveh sank his face into his palms and forced himself to his feet, though not without noticeable trembling.

Alhaitham begrudgingly insisted they stop for a meal at the closest restaurant; there their attention was quietly drawn to a pair of neighboring diners, two thinning, exhausted parents slumped against their seats; a toddler no older than 18 months gleefully babbled in her high chair between them. 

The father steered his sweating glass on its coaster and groaned, “All that work and she’s happy just sitting here.”

“You wanted a little princess to spoil,” the mother shrugged. “You got one.”

Kaveh sucked harder at the straw in his drink. He focused hard on Alhaitham, trying not to draw needless attention to the couple. 

“I don’t envy them,” said Alhaitham, both unprompted and a little too loudly.

★・・・・・・・・★

“You know I’d do just about anything for you, Kaveh, but lying to your face is too far.” Tighnari wrung a wet cloth over a barrel of hot water. “If you like him, you need to leave.”

“It’s not him,” said Kaveh, “it’s the baby I want.”

“Is it?” Tighnari raised an eyebrow, walking over to the bedside where Kaveh lay. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had an abortion. What changed in the past ten years?”

Kaveh swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“It’s because he’s the father, isn’t it?”

“That’s-“

“Kaveh, let me finish,” sighed Tighnari, placing the cloth over Kaveh’s forehead. “I was writing off the looks you exchanged as the drunken affliction of your better judgment. But then the staring lingered—I was already suspicious you had feelings for him before you told me about the pregnancy.”

“I don’t love him,” reiterated Kaveh. “I love our baby.”

Tighnari sat on the edge of the bed. “You love your baby because it contains part of him. If it was the result of a hookup, you’d have no reservations about this abortion.” 

In the center of their palm was the pill Alhaitham brought home for Kaveh. They held it out; Kaveh plucked it with hesitation. 

There was no world where he couldn’t follow through. There was no world where he’d nurse an infant by Alhaitham’s side, and watch her wipsy locks darken as the weeks progressed, or observe her big teal irises speckled with red. 

Were there ever, Kaveh ached like hell to be spirited away.

“You’ve got this,” affirmed Tighnari. “I’ll be here for you the whole time.”

“Thanks,” sighed Kaveh. “You’re always there for me when I need you. Sorry. I feel like a burden sometimes.”

“Don’t say that nonsense,” said Tighnari, pouting. “I don’t stick out my ass for you like this just to hear you degrade yourself.”

Kaveh’s eyes widened. Tighnari provided more support in merely housing and amicably talking to Kaveh than Alhaitham did the past six weeks his child had been gestating in Kaveh’s womb. 

A bitter taste soured the back of Kaveh’s throat at the thought. It tasted like black coffee.

★・・・・・・・・・★

The once unfamiliar aroma of Rainbow Roses drifted out of every letter Kaveh opened from Faranak since her move. He’d hardly have to pierce the parchment before Alhaitham would ask if he just lit some incense. 

There were no questions this time though, even as he sat an arm’s length away on the other couch—perhaps he’d grown accustomed to the smell over the months. Perhaps the thick novel in his hands was all the more enticing than roommate small talk. Kaveh couldn’t blame him for that. 

The letter was, for the most part, a flowery tangent focused on her new husband (a man Kaveh only met once, at the wedding), and her step-daughter (a girl who’d been too young to truly ‘meet’ Kaveh at the wedding), as they celebrated the girl’s eighth birthday at the Court of Fontaine. It was all par for the course, every word of it, but the last paragraph, penned in Faranak’s unforgettably neat, rounded handwriting, stuck out like a sore thumb:

Getting her birthday presents and going places makes me miss the days you were that age!! You better not have changed your mind about having children—the moment you’ve got yourself a nice Alpha, I want grandkids from you!! 

Miss you endlessly,

Mom

Kaveh restrained himself from crumbling the letter. The words stabbed at his eyes from behind, threatening big tears. 

Maybe it was worth asking once upfront, if he’d never ask again. 

Kaveh looked toward the other couch. “Would you ever have kids?”

Alhaitham sighed through his nose and flicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “The desire has yet to cross my mind.”

“Is that the only reason why?”

Silence. Then,

“Children are a vast responsibility I don’t wish to undertake in the slightest. To me, raising a life like that is not worth the money, blood, sweat, and tears.”

“I think kids are worth it. Must be just me.”

More silence. Alhaitham doesn't respond.

★・・・・・・・・・・★

Fade in. Fade out.

Kaveh’s stomach contracts all day long. He tries to distract himself with one of Tighnari’s encyclopedias, but the words blur on the page before him. 

Fade in. He tries to count the weaving of the wood constructing Tighnari’s house, and follow the pattern of its braid. 

Fade out. It’s as if every cell turns itself inside out before passing through him. His blood oozes, red-hot, flowing out like magma.

There’s a daydream about Alhaitham, somewhere in there.

Fade in. He sees Tighnari’s shadow in the corner of the room. He feels a wet towel hit his forehead.

Fade out. Alhaitham’s back, just staring. He smiles. Kaveh moves to touch him.

Consciousness returns to Kaveh with a howl, clutching over his womb as he awakes sitting upright. Tighnari jolts into the room, eyes wide with concern.

“Kaveh?”

“I’m okay,” says Kaveh hoarsely. He lowers himself back down on the mattress with a sigh. “I’m fine. It’s passing.”

“You’re doing great,” replies Tighnari with a smile. “You should be more than halfway done by now.”

Kaveh hears the words but doesn’t process them.

★・・・・・・・・・・・★

Before Alhaitham, there was Amir. 

Amir was a Spantamad scholar two years Kaveh’s senior. Though far from first rank in his darshan, Amir carried unrivaled charisma and wit on his broad, tanned shoulders, and Kaveh could never stay away because of it. The Light of Kshahrewrar caught countless eyes his first semester, even the Akademiya’s biggest slackers were paying attention to his progress—Amir included.

It was nobody’s surprise when Kaveh was swooped up by him the evening he graduated from Kshahrewar—an all-too timely tavern meetcute. Amir was always the popular Alpha type despite his otherwise lackluster achievements, and though their conversations remained simple, Kaveh attempted to make peace with always being the teacher of the two, never the student. 

Kaveh’s words and wisdom, which Amir once lauded as ‘forward-thinking’ and ‘eye-opening’ to his face, became ‘Kaveh’s typical nagging’ and ‘constant yapping.’ At some point, after about five months, it was like a switch flipped overnight. The funny but dull-minded Spantamad dropout—right, Amir dropped out before his final year—transformed into a walking, talking leech. Date nights dwindled, friendships fizzled, and Kaveh went months without writing to his mother, at a loss for what good he could possibly inform her of. 

Miss you, Mom! Amir laid his hands on me yet again this week, can you believe it? He was so upset coming home from his really long shift at the tavern, only to find out I overcooked dinner…I sure hope Dad was never this much of a handful!

Even that would be optimistic; Amir would sooner have Natlan freeze over than permit word of his treatment of Kaveh enter the public sphere, let alone in postage stamped and mailed writing. 

So Kaveh had no one to tell when he fell pregnant for the first time, and had no one to turn to once he terminated it without hesitation. He vaguely mentioned to Amir something about a complicated group research project on campus grounds, then vanished for several days without a trace, only to return home—to his home—without so much as a ‘welcome home.’ 

“Oh, you’re back.” Amir lounged back on Kaveh’s couch (the one he remembered receiving the news of his father’s death upon), drink in hand. “You planned anything for dinner tonight yet, babe?”

Kaveh restrained himself from blurting out his truth. That he had been impregnated and had unceremoniously, almost gleefully, ripped out said parasite Amir planted without a second thought. 

“Mhm,” smiled Kaveh, closing the front door behind him. “Mesfouf sound good to you?” 

Amir licked his lips and hummed with excitement. “That sounds delightful, Kaveh.” 

★・・・・・・・・・・・・★

“Alhaitham?!”

“I know!” Kaveh raised his hands defensively. “I know. You don’t have to act so astounded…”

“It’s just…” Tighnari bit down on their lower lip. “I wasn’t there, but from what you’ve told me of the last time you spoke…”

“You’d think the whole ordeal would be super awkward, wouldn’t you?”

Tighnari sighed, “yeah, basically. How’d this even happen?”

“He made conversation with me at the tavern. Listened to me talk about what’s going on, and about what happened at Alcazarzaray. It was strange.” Kaveh sat down on Tighnari’s bed, gazing out the window at the lush green surrounding them. “He seemed different, yet somehow the same.” 

“Do you believe he’s matured that much?” Tighnari turned from Kaveh’s wistful stare to their multiple encyclopedias open on a table. “What if something happens between you two again and you have no place to go?” 

“Then I’ll just be right back where I am now,” said Kaveh, sulking his shoulders. “But I have faith we’re both older and wiser. It’s been, what, ten years? Surely things can’t be the same.”

“You’re more optimistic than I am,” remarked Tighnari, licking their thumb and flipping through one of the books on birds. “I’d trust that egoistic clerk as far as I can throw him.” 

“I have to build myself a home eventually, Tighnari. I can’t be too picky about it,” said Kaveh, standing from the bed and approaching his friend from behind, peering over their shoulder at the bird encyclopedia. 

It was opened on the Aquila, a bird of prey native to Natlan and west Sumeru. ‘Apex predators of the avian realm,’ read the book, ‘the aquila hunt anything they can fit down their throats. They’re known to always look back over their shoulders before striking prey. In some cultures, the aquila is seen as a messenger of the heavens.’

A drawing of the bird accompanied the text. It was a large creature depicted with fluffy, long feathers. A crooked, black-tipped beak crowned its comparably small head. In this drawing, the aquila is shown in its apparently prestrike pose, face elegantly framed above its dark wing. 

“You know yourself best, Kaveh,” sighed Tighnari, turning around and facing their friend. “Just know I’ll always be there for you. If something ever happens and you need a place to stay temporarily—I’ve got you.” 

“Thank you,” smiled Kaveh. “Thank you for not being mad about this. I don’t have a lot of options.”

“I know you don’t.” They patted Kaveh’s back, then allowed their gaze to drift aside to the large stack of paper and art supplies clogging up a good quarter of Tighnari’s space. “Does this mean we can start packing your things?”

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

Alhaitham nudged open Kaveh’s bedroom door with his elbow. He craned his head into the musty room, an omega’s pungent ginger odor greeting him back. Were he the slightest less religious about taking his suppressants, Alhaitham would be unfastening his pants that instant. 

“I got something for you,” he said, approaching Kaveh hunched over his desk, a bottle of his usual economical wine in hand. Kaveh fixed himself upright, hair messy and dressed in a frock nightgown. Alhaitham continued, “I can tell you’ve been feeling off these past few weeks. I wanted to make it up to you.”

He produced an expensive bottle of wine from behind his back, a silk green bow tied around the stem. Kaveh reached out and took it, observing the label under the glint of evening moonlight peeking through his window. 

“Oh, Haitham, you didn’t have-”

“I never have to do anything,” said Alhaitham, leaning down to level himself with Kaveh. “Can’t I reward you for being strong and brave? It’s not as if I’m making a habit of the fact.” 

He pinched Kaveh’s face between his thumb and pointer, holding him still as he leaned in to plant a kiss directly on his lips. Kaveh accepted it, clutching the new wine against his chest. 

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you,” said Kaveh. “Did you want to open it right now?”

“It’s your gift,” said Alhaitham, “that’s up to you. I’ll indulge if you decide to tonight, though.” 

Kaveh smirked and tore the ribbon off the bottle, pressing his thumb to the cork. “I’ll take this over the other sour shit I was fooling myself into drinking.” 

He kept a wine opener in his room, in his desk. Kaveh opened a square cubby drawer and fished out the metal corkscrew. 

Alhaitham removed himself from the bedroom, only to return with a wine glass in either hand, placing them down on the edge of Kaveh’s desk. “Better than chugging straight from the bottle, yes?” 

He poured the wine, savoring the rich scent of the liquor. This was a brand too pricey for Kaveh to indulge in often—Alhaitham spoiled him. 

“Cheers,” said Kaveh.

“Cheers,” replied Alhaitham, raising his glass and taking a sip. 

The liquor slid down Kaveh’s throat with ease. It was far from the first night he drank since the abortion, but it certainly was the nicest; the most celebratory, without a doubt. 

Kaveh took Alhaitham’s hand in his, guiding him to his bed. They sat on the edge, glasses in hand, though Kaveh leaned in to close the space between them. 

Alhaitham accepted his touch. They kissed, tasting the wine on one another’s lips. Kaveh attempted to wedge his tongue inside Alhaitham’s mouth, to which he responded by breaking off the kiss entirely and taking a long, slow gulp of the drink. Kaveh pouted, watching with frustration, until Alhaitham turned back, kissing him again and letting the wine spill from his mouth into Kaveh’s. 

Kaveh drank it, of course. He swallowed every sip. Alcohol hits faster coming from another person’s mouth—a long held belief of Kaveh’s, reaffirmed every time he shotgunned liquor. 

And getting to kiss Alhaitham while doing it was a plus, too. 

Kaveh downed the remainder of his glass and placed it aside, honing in Alhaitham’s crotch. He patted his palms against his pants, seeking strains of arousal. 

“Kaveh?”

“Lemme at you,” said Kaveh, fidgeting his thumbs around Alhaitham’s pantline. “Should open my throat so the wine goes down smoother.”

Alhaitham scrunched his face and sighed, but certainly wasn’t going to reject the proposition, no matter how ridiculously Kaveh phrased it. He undid the top of his trousers, slinking them off enough to show his underwear. 

“Do you want me to suck you through the cloth?” Kaveh tilted his head, staring up at Alhaitham with a quizzical stare. “Take the boxers off, too.” 

Alhaitham complied, sipping his wine, placing the glass aside as well, and then allowing his cock to spring free from the confines of his undergarments. He was visibly hard, the faint aroma of saffron filling Kaveh’s nostrils like a drug. 

“Thank you,” said Kaveh, accompanied by a dirty grin. He placed himself right before Alhaitham’s semi-hard cock, rubbing his palm gently along his shaft. Kaveh glanced to Alhaitham’s heated cheeks, and observed him mask his building pleasure with a hand over his mouth. 

“Why so shy?” giggled Kaveh, parting his lips and sticking out his tongue flat. He lapped Alhaitham’s cockhead, breathing hot air against his hardening dick. “I consider buying me fancy wine to be more forward than just asking for head.” Kaveh kissed his cock from base to tip, counting the inches to ensure Alhaitham’s maximum arousal. “You knew what you were doing.” 

“Please,” Alhaitham clicked his tongue innocuously, but his desire was evident. He dropped the palm from his face and flicked his gaze toward Kaveh. “Not everything I do has some ulterior motive. In fact, if you can name me one time I ever did something like that, I’ll buy you another full-sized bottle.”

Kaveh furrowed his brow in thought, rummaging his memories for an occurrence where— surely Alhaitham had used reverse psychology on him, at least once? For chores, or cooking, or something mundane?

He opened his mouth to retort, but his argument was silenced by a thick cock in his mouth, one he personally invited in so close. Kaveh gasped and whined against his fleshy gag; Alhaitham’s teasing grin only hindered his argument, but Kaveh could tell he didn’t care. 

Kaveh itched to breathe in more of Alhaitham’s scent. Where he should be overwhelmed in a saffron-harra miasma, the smell wafted faintly like a single-wicked candle. The sensation was unnatural to the omega body—not painful or unwanted, but discomforting in an abstract fashion. Yet he kept his words contained and sought out to perform his thanks. 

He gripped a fist around Alhaitham’s base, swallowing his length halfway. Kaveh drooled down his whole shaft, stroking and licking tenderly, sweetly drawing a climax out of Alhaitham over the course of a few minutes. Kaveh maintained eye contact, wide red eyes searching Alhaitham’s face for further signs of approval.  

When Alhaitham’s gasps hitched, Kaveh’s stroking intensified, and he popped his lips from Alhaitham’s cockhead to whisper, 

“Are you close? Are you cumming?”

Alhaitham nodded.

“Do it on my face,” said Kaveh, holding Alhaitham’s tip to his cheek. He grew a sultry smile, not ceasing his jerking for a second. “Mark me with your cum, I want it all over…”

One of Alhaitham’s hands shot to Kaveh’s scalp, gripping his hair and holding him still as he climaxed, shooting white-hot semen across Kaveh’s cheeks and mouth with a loud moan. Kaveh eventually pulled back, satisfied with another job well done, and ran his tongue across his lips. 

But Alhaitham’s cock seemed far from refractory. He maintained his hardness, discarding his shirt unprompted and then shoving Kaveh onto his back. Alhaitham crawled on top, steering Kaveh’s legs apart and around him. 

“H- Haitham?” asked Kaveh, grip seeking Alhaitham’s wrists.

“…how good was the wine I got for you, would you say?”

Wherever this was leading, a sense of dread followed. 

“Really good,” gulped Kaveh, fidgeting beneath Alhaitham’s stature. “Think I should take another sip, actually…”

“Well, be my guest,” said Alhaitham, removing his arms from Kaveh’s sides and sitting back. Kaveh felt eyes trail his every movement—from reaching for his glass, to swallowing the remainder of liquor down. 

“Did you…?”

“I’m alright for now,” declined Alhaitham with a wave of the hand. “There’s something else I have in mind, if you’ll answer my query.”

Kaveh swished his tongue inside his mouth, savoring the remnants of the wine’s flavor. 

“Really good,” answered Kaveh, “incomparably great wine. A smart choice, Haitham.”

“Is it good enough—or strong enough, I should say—to get you in the mood?” Alhaitham brushed a stray lock flopped over Kaveh’s forehead. “It’s been some time since we’ve actually…”

Three weeks. It’d been about three weeks—or twenty-two days exactly to sate Alhaitham’s pedantry—since they slept together last, and twenty days since Kaveh spent the night at Tighnari’s. Nineteen since he buried his and Alhaitham’s unborn child, the unformed, miniscule mass she was, never granted a chance to meet her father; fifteen since Kaveh picked up drinking again after a short break to recover from the procedure. Fifteen since Kaveh gave Alhaitham oral unprompted after the procedure. The wine wasn’t even enjoyable that night.

‘Whatever you do,’ said Tighnari to a doped, dazed Kaveh, ‘hold off on the penetrative sex for a month minimum. You can seriously damage yourself if you aren’t careful letting your body heal. I know you, and I know your drive…’ Tighnari sighed to themself. ‘Maybe Alhaitham will be responsible enough to decline for the first few weeks.’ They snapped their fingers beside Kaveh’s head. ‘Yeah, you’re not listening to me.’

Tighnari’s words echoed inside Kaveh where they hadn’t before. Like a guardian angel; like they were looking down at Kaveh in that moment, shaking their head at how little heed their advice was ever offered. 

“It has been a while,” said Kaveh, wine glass aside, hands folded in his lap. He glanced bashfully toward Alhaitham.  

What’s even the worst which could happen? He tears a little, bleeds some more? As if that hadn’t ever happened during sex before—as if it didn’t regularly occur when engaging in rough sex with a well-endowed Alpha. 

Kaveh would spare Tighnari the follow-up appointment and instead visit a real city doctor should consequences take root. 

Alhaitham leaned close to Kaveh again, seeing a chance to take initiative. He ushered Kaveh’s back to the mattress, holding his body firm in the sheets. They stared at one another for some time, wordless, only taking in the sight of each other illuminated by Kaveh’s solitary desk lamp and the new moon’s beams casted in through the window. 

Cold hands locked around a warm waist, thumbs pressing into Kaveh’s hips and squeezing him tight. Kaveh gasped softly, hands wandering and settling around Alhaitham’s shoulders. He was slow to react, a toxic combination of liquor and uncertainty filtering through his liver; he was felled prey to his Alpha roommate—the feeling was far from alien.

Kaveh broke the silence. “You need to be careful,” he said. “I’m still…recovering. You could hurt me badly.”

“I know,” said Alhaitham, slipping his fingers beneath Kaveh’s nightgown and lifting the fabric, searching quickly to shove aside his underwear. “I’ll go slow. If you need me to stop, just ask, okay?”

“Okay.” Kaveh took a deep breath, anxiety assuaged slightly by Alhaitham’s calming tone. His nails dug into Alhaitham’s skin in anticipation, but he made no comment about the sensation. 

Alhaitham brandished his cock, rubbing its hardened length against Kaveh’s vulva. He prodded the head against his hole, tight and merely dampened. 

“Wait,” said Kaveh, pushing Alhaitham back with a palm flat to his chest. Alhaitham backed up again, and Kaveh jumped from the bed, grabbing his empty glass and the wine bottle and refilling it for himself. He swallowed big gulps, taking less time to enjoy the flavor the second go-around. 

On the bed, Alhaitham sat back, arms folded but a contented smirk smeared across his face. Kaveh figured he was only gloating about the perceived extreme enjoyment of his alcoholic gift, though he briefly considered it was instead a smile of villainy—satisfaction over a plan well-executed. Kaveh shook off the thought as mere paranoid nonsense; as if it took a highbrow scheme to coerce Kaveh into drinking.

Stomach sufficiently weighted by liquor, Kaveh pulled himself back to his bed, collapsing onto the sheets beside Alhaitham. He hiked his nightgown back up, letting the edges bunch about his waist. 

“Come here, Haitham,” encouraged Kaveh, parting his legs. “I’m gonna freeze all exposed like this…” 

Alhaitham obliged, shifting on his knees back between Kaveh’s thighs. He messed around with Kaveh’s underwear again, getting it out of the way and spitting down onto his vulva. He rubbed his cockhead against Kaveh’s hole, easing himself in with more force than usually required.

“Relax,” said Alhaitham, though there was little inflection to imply there was care behind the warning. His eyes darted from Kaveh’s pussy to his face; he was staring down at where their bodies met, where Alhaitham thrust himself inside to make them one. “Good boy. That wasn’t hard at all.” 

Alhaitham seared inside Kaveh. It was soon, far too soon, and he could tell the instant his cock pushed inside. Sex wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It didn’t usually feel this bad.

Kaveh grit his teeth and reminded himself of the times he’d been praised for his pain tolerance: compasses stabbed through the finger on accident, a mishandled letter opener or two, not to mention fumbling matches and lighters while drunk and smoking; not a single tear was shed. This time was no different, surely.

“Am I good?” asked Kaveh quietly.

“Yes, you’re good,” reaffirmed Alhaitham, moving his hips slowly. It was clear he made the conscious effort to attempt to work around harming Kaveh—for that, at least, he was grateful. “You’re very good.” Alhaitham fastened his hands around Kaveh’s hips, planting a kiss to his forehead as well. “You’re doing amazing.”

“Definitely thanks to the wine,” said Kaveh, voice still somewhat hushed. “Thanks for going easy.”

“Of course.” But Alhaitham’s frustration with his lack of friction became evident as the sex progressed. He pumped into Kaveh gently, pushing soft moans from his lungs, but never quite thrusting hard enough to near his own climax. He maintained his arousal, but the stoic features dressing his face turned sour with time. 

Guilt swelled in Kaveh. He’d regret declining Alhaitham after getting this far—might as well fully cave. 

“G- Go harder,” encouraged Kaveh, parting his thighs further and locking his legs behind Alhaitham. “I can take it.” 

Alhaitham flashed a hesitant look, but wasn’t going to decline the offer. He locked his thumbs around Kaveh’s waist and railed into him, the minutes upon minutes of excruciating teasing and gentle penetration quickly and thankfully traded for a fast, hard fuck. Kaveh yelped in pain, moans a bitter mix of pleasure and utter torture. 

How cruel would it be to push Alhaitham away after getting this far? After he spoiled Kaveh with fancy wine, after he sweet-talked him into his sheets?

Not cruel enough, evidently. Alhaitham hit him at just the wrong angle, spearing Kaveh from the inside out.

Kaveh yelled, “Stop, stop, wait, Haitham-”

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

“-quit it, please, Amir,” pleaded Kaveh, fighting off the hand snaking its way into his pants. Amir didn’t relent, wedging Kaveh between him and the wall. 

“Come on,” he snapped, hand down the waistline, wearing the stench of spirits on his lips. “The hell’s your problem? You haven’t put out in weeks, I’m getting fuckin’ frustrated.”

Kaveh froze, fingers clenched around Amir’s forearm, staring at him, imploring for his mercy. 

The last thing this man needed to know was about the procedure. How unhesitatingly and unflinchingly Kaveh decided to abort the instant he discovered he was with Amir’s child. How the parts of himself he shared no longer felt like his own, but a stolen mass of passions and dreams and limbs designed to entertain and revel. 

Tears pricked the edges of Kaveh’s eyes, not that sympathy was a feeling Amir ever indulged in. 

“If you won't put out, then suck my cock,” demanded Amir, retracting his hand from Kaveh’s groin and instead grabbing him by the hair. Amir shoved him to his knees, unfastening his pants as Kaveh prepared himself.

Kaveh opened his mouth to shout, but had no words left to say. He was less whole with Amir and somehow even lesser without. 

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and closed his lips around Amir.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

The thrusting and pumping and intense grip ceased. Alhaitham froze where he moved, searching Kaveh for answers with a wide, concerned stare. He slid himself from Kaveh’s hole with tact, though was still followed by a stream of bright red blood. 

“Kaveh?”

“It- It hurts, I’m sorry,” he said, gripping over his womb and pulling back from Alhaitham. “I can’t- I need more time…I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Kaveh, it’s-” Alhaitham forced an awkward, uncomfortable chuckle. “No, I’m sorry. I definitely pushed things just then. I wasn’t-” He took a deep breath and continued, “I wasn’t thinking about the both of us at that moment. I was being selfish. I am sorry.”

Kaveh sniffled and rolled onto his side, still facing Alhaitham. “Thank you,” he croaked, blinking his welling tears into his pillow. “Can we just lay here for now? Together?”

Alhaitham nodded, joining Kaveh at his level on the bed. He looped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to his nude body, warm in comparison to his ever-freezing hands. Kaveh snuggled right in, hugging his waist and pressing his cheek to Alhaitham’s chest. A large hand made its way into Kaveh’s blond locks, fingers massaging against his scalp.

They lay together listening to one another's breathing, feeling each other’s chests rise and fall in rhythm. Their eyes occasionally met, not to make faces, but merely observe. 

As always, Kaveh broke the silence.

“I wish you’d stop taking those suppressants,” he said. “Right now I’m left to imagine how good the sex would be if we could help each other through our ruts and heats.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’d just adore that,” replied Alhaitham, running a hand through Kaveh’s long hair. “But in turn, I’d want you on some form of birth control, if my suppressants will no longer be doing the work. So we don’t have to deal with that whole abortion nonsense ever again.” 

It made sense, as a request. There was nothing logically unsound about it—they had an abortion because Kaveh couldn’t financially afford a baby, and Alhaitham simply didn’t want to raise one. The procedure took money and time and lots of energy, particularly draining Kaveh physically, and it would be ideal to not put him through that again, if at all possible. Not to mention the near-delusional state the pregnancy sent him into, daydreaming about naming and raising the fetus he knew was destined to be nothing more. 

But that was disregarding the joy the mere thought of raising a child with Alhaitham brought Kaveh. It was pushing aside the potential perfection they could harbor, the unconditional love they could endow a child with, the unsurpassed wisdom and creativity each of them could pass down, and the elation it would bring them all, united as a family and tethered by love until the end of time. 

Kaveh sucked in a quick gasp to try and get ahead of the panic attack building inside. 

“Haitham…” 

“Kaveh?”

“I- I can’t-” He sniffled, a stuffy nose preceding the tears he knew would eventually fall. “I can’t do this right now…”

“What?” Alhaitham slid back, removing his hands from Kaveh’s hair. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, you- It’s- Well…” Kaveh pushed himself upright once more, hugging his arms across his chest. He looked aside, unable to bear witness to Alhaitham’s expression as he confessed, “I really didn’t want to get that abortion.”

“Kaveh,” sighed Alhaitham, sulking in place, his jaw tensing. “We’ve been over this.”

“I know we have,” said Kaveh, making brief eye contact before flicking his stare away again. “I think we should talk about it again.”

“What’s new to say? It’s over, it happened, the fetus is gone. Do you want to stop what we have going on? I don’t understand what you want from me.” 

“I don’t know what I want, either.”

“You sure?” Alhaitham stood up from the bed, collecting his strewn clothing off the floor. “Because it sounds like you want me to impregnate you and not make you get rid of it. It sounds like you want to have a baby and let me fund its life.” 

Kaveh cowered on the bed. His hair stood on end as if he were freezing, yet sweat built on his forehead as Alhaitham spoke. 

“For whatever it’s worth,” Alhaitham cleared his throat, “there’s no possible combination of words that could be strung together to change my mind. My domestic fate is solitary. I’ve always known this, and I’ve always wanted this.” 

Kaveh’s jaw fell open, but no words came out. His lip quivered, and his eyes welled with tears, but no noise came.

Alhaitham turned his head, looking back over his shoulder at Kaveh with a narrowed gaze, frightening yet familiar. He shot this stare through Kaveh, and for the first time in their entire relationship, a surge of fight or flight coursed through Kaveh’s veins. 

With no other choice and little time to rationalize his feelings, Kaveh scrambled from the bedsheets and bolted past Alhaitham, out his bedroom and through the front door, salty wetness streaming down his cheeks and teeth grit aggressively, biting back sobs of betrayal. He was clothed, but disheveled and unpresentable—thankfully dusk had long since covered Sumeru City in shadow that evening. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” repeated Kaveh, words hushed between louder sobs. He threw himself into a patch of damp grass, facedown in the flora. Kaveh dug his nails into the soft dirt, failing to weed out some comfort or an embrace for himself. 

He hadn’t cried since the procedure. He’d been keeping himself pieced together somewhat. Until now.

Sumeru citizens walked on by Kaveh with only cursory stares; it would be dishonest for Kaveh to admit he was doing anything but waiting for Alhaitham to chase after him and apologize. He grieved for a moment at most before realizing there was no winning this. 

Alhaitham would not follow Kaveh’s tears outside. Alhaitham would respect his boundaries and let him simmer down alone. There would be no melodramatic chase through the bazaar. There was no make-up kiss and happily ever after. 

There was only Kaveh, on the ground. There was only an unborn, shapeless baby buried in the overlook, watching over the river flowing through Gandhara Ville. 

She would’ve been a girl.

Kaveh stood up from where he briefly rooted himself, then began wandering away. The sky darkened, and the jungle traded the chirping of birds for the music of the insects, yet he kept on until the lived-in stone walkways of Sumeru City no longer tread under his feet.

Somewhere between the city and Gandhara Ville, Kaveh stopped. He sat himself on a ledge, legs dangling cliffside, and sighed out at the glorious view. A nocturnal filter casted over the lush forest. Kaveh selfishly wished to soil it with a stream of smoke, fishing a loose cigarette from his pocket. He placed the tobacco in his mouth, then searched for matches to go with it—to no avail. He sighed, attempting to relax himself with only the flavor sitting in his mouth to rely on. Kaveh flicked his tongue against the filter tip. 

He’d have to go back eventually. The night would only stay warm for so much longer; not to mention the countless thieves and bandits making haste through the jungle roads by night, and how little they’d believe Kaveh when he claims impoverishment. 

He wondered how late he’d have to wait before he could sneak back in without alerting Alhaitham, or if making it to Tighnari’s was a viable option for the night. 

The crunch of footsteps on grass encroaching upon Kaveh fortunately resolved his quandary for him.

Unfortunately, it was the least preferable option of all.

“You dropped this,” said the voice behind him. “Figured you might need it.”

Kaveh didn’t need to turn around to know who it was and what he had. 

“Thanks,” said Kaveh, not turning back, but rapping his fingers against the ground. 

He didn’t want to look, yet something compelled Kaveh to peer back with a guilty stare. It was his fault they were all the way out here, now—though he did not invite Alhaitham along.

“You didn’t have to follow me,” added Kaveh.

“I know,” said Alhaitham, placing the box of matches by his side. He stepped a few paces away, then swung his legs over the edge of the clifftop as well, the whole world’s breadth between them. 

Kaveh lit his cigarette, and took several long puffs. He reached into his pocket again to retrieve the other loose cigarette, pinching and admiring it between his fingers, before tossing it Alhaitham’s way, followed by the matchbox. Alhaitham stared blankly at the tools in his palm.

“It’s not gonna smoke itself,” said Kaveh, not even glancing his way. His own cigarette was already halfway ashed. 

“I don’t usually do it like this,” said Alhaitham, placing the cigarette between his lips and struggling with the matchbook. He flicked a match against the box once, twice, thrice— seven times, what a joke—Kaveh rolled his eyes and crawled over, snatching the matches away and instead meeting the lit end of his cigarette with Alhaitham’s until it kindled. 

“Archons, you can’t do anything.”

Alhaitham didn’t snap back. He smoked in silence, wrinkling his face in distaste, but continuing to indulge in Kaveh’s vice of the evening. He embraced their unintentional closeness, daring to push it further, placing an arm around Kaveh’s waist.

He froze up momentarily, but allowed himself to sink into the familiar touch, cold as it might be. Icy even against the bite of unwelcome dark air. 

The nicotine buzz finally hit Kaveh. He leaned onto Alhaitham and closed his eyes, resting on his roommate, his confidant, and his part-time lover.

Only this—and nothing more.