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Alhaitham exhaled a sharp, frustrated breath as he collapsed into bed, mind still spinning with the unease Kaveh had ignited in him earlier that evening.
Things had been far more peaceful in the year since they’d begun living together, both learning to temper their impulses and speak with intention rather than instinct. But tonight, Alhaitham had slipped back into that old pattern - each word thrown out too carelessly, skidding past the boundary he’d tried so hard to maintain.
He knew the second he’d crossed that line. But listening to Kaveh tinker with his models for days on end with no sleep in between - allowing yet another client to run him ragged, stripping his work of the respect it deserved - scraped at something raw inside Alhaitham. And, despite Kaveh’s daily rants about the wealthy Mondstadter requesting endless revisions to the commissioned design, he still hadn’t told the man no.
The pattern continued for about a week before Alhaitham finally snapped, worn thin from sleepless nights plagued by nonstop hammering and a plethora of sketches slowly consuming the living room, transforming the space that Alhaitham usually relied on for comfort into a whirlwind of chaos.
Chest tight with fatigue and filled with the cloying urge to protect Kaveh from his own nature, the pressure eventually found its way out through Alhaitham’s voice. Cruel words lashed from his tongue too loudly before he could swallow them, branding Kaveh naïve and demanding a night of peace - a reprieve from the endless, grating sounds of his tools.
Instead of fighting back with the blazing fire of their old arguments, Kaveh had gone still, eyes widening with a stunned, wounded look that caught Alhaitham off guard. Instantly withdrawn, Kaveh rose to his feet, silently gathered his blueprints, and turned his back. Dragging a hand over his face, Alhaitham reached for the gentler words he should’ve used in the first place to try and undo the damage - but Kaveh cut him off with a quiet ’leave me alone’ and retreated into his bedroom without a backward glance.
It hadn’t even been an insult, but it was somehow all the more piercing for its bare simplicity. In one solitary sentence, Alhaitham heard the echo of every fear he carried about himself - incapable of the softness required to hold something as bright as Kaveh’s trust without breaking it into pieces.
Now, lying in the dark, guilt gnawed relentlessly at Alhaitham’s psyche, stomach twisting into knots. His throat stung as he pictured Kaveh just on the other side of the wall - hurt because of him, once again.
Truthfully, every day since Kaveh moved in, Alhaitham had felt himself pulled in two opposing directions. Part of him longed for something gentler to grow between them - something that edged dangerously close to intimacy - yet another part feared that daring to reach for it would mean losing Kaveh entirely.
But some days, losing Kaveh felt like an inevitability. No matter how carefully he tried to soften the sharp edges of his bluntness, no matter how many times Kaveh’s sweet face lit up with the burgeoning sense of safety Alhaitham knew he was beginning to feel in their home - all Alhaitham could do was bruise him. He simply didn’t seem capable of hiding his longing and refraining from being affectionate while still remaining tender enough not to cause Kaveh pain.
Every time he tried, his attempts only seemed to harm the one person he wanted to protect most, like he was simply wired incorrectly for comfort.
The hours slipped away as he tossed and turned, unsettled by the look that had lingered in Kaveh’s eyes before he’d turned away - hurt, yes, but flickering with something far worse. There had been a glint of resignation there too, a sickening, muted acceptance like Kaveh no longer expected better of him.
Though the other side of the wall was finally quiet for the first time in a week, the silence was far too dense for Alhaitham to appreciate it. It pressed against him as he lay there, keeping sleep at the edges of his periphery until exhaustion finally dragged him under, face set in a deep frown.
When his eyes opened again, the darkness of his bedroom was gone. Instead, he was standing in the middle of Kaveh’s, feet heavy as stone, rooted to the spot. Along the wall, Kaveh’s vanity mirror caught his attention... except the figure staring back at him from the reflection wasn’t him at all. Instead, Kaveh gazed at him from behind the glass, cheeks pale and streaked with tears like a fragile, life-sized figurine locked away inside a world just beyond reach.
Shoulders slumped and expression stripped bare, Kaveh lifted a trembling hand to the mirror. It took every ounce of strength Alhaitham possessed to force his strangely reluctant limbs to propel him forward through the thick, syrupy air, finally managing to stumble toward the mirror after several unsuccessful attempts.
But when he pressed his palm to the cold surface opposite Kaveh’s, their fingertips didn’t meet.
“Kaveh?” he called, but his voice came out distorted and muffled. “How... how are you in there? What’s happening?”
The somber shell of Kaveh across from him only shook his head, lips forming two silent words. 'It’s okay.'
Frowning, Alhaitham pressed more firmly against the mirror, trying to make sense of the wrongness of the glass - only for a thin crack to begin spiderwebbing outward from beneath his palm. He jerked his hand back with a startled inhale, but the breath sharpened into a strangled gasp when the door behind Kaveh swung open.
Alhaitham whipped his head around to see the hazy bedroom door behind him steadfastly closed. Yet when he turned toward the reflection again, a shapeless presence was emerging from the doorway, advancing toward Kaveh with slow, predatory steps.
He pointed behind Kaveh’s shoulder, urging him to turn around - but Kaveh just stared directly at Alhaitham without moving a muscle.
“Look behind you,” Alhaitham pleaded, pressing both palms to the wooden edges of the mirror as he leaned forward. “There’s someone there. Please, just look behind you!”
Instead of turning, Kaveh raised his other hand to the glass, lips curving into a small, defeated smile. A cold coil of dread began to climb up Alhaitham’s spine as the figure jerked forward with stiff, unnatural movements, gradually resolving into a vague reflection of... Alhaitham himself. The silhouette’s outline was razor sharp, yet the nearer it drew, the more disfigured it seemed - until the only distinguishable features remaining on the spectral face resembling his were hollow, emotionless eyes fixed on the back of Kaveh’s head.
“Hey!” Alhaitham shouted, heart pounding. “Kaveh, listen to me! You need to run!”
Still, Kaveh didn’t budge. Dread gave way to terror, clawing at Alhaitham’s throat as the distorted figure unsheathed a glowing green blade and stepped closer. Its vacant eyes darted with unnerving speed from Kaveh to Alhaitham himself - and, even without a mouth, it seemed to be taunting him with his own helplessness.
Because no matter how much he yelled, Kaveh didn’t seem to be able to hear him. That... or he simply didn’t care to stop whatever was coming.
Alhaitham didn’t know which was worse.
“No!” Alhaitham slammed his fist into the mirror in desperation.
A crack split across the reflection of Kaveh’s face. Shards of glass began to fall like icy teardrops, slicing into his knuckles - but Alhaitham barely noticed the pain. All he could feel was the mounting horror as Kaveh stood motionless, unwilling to save himself.
Panting, Alhaitham tore at the wooden frame as if he could somehow physically wrench Kaveh through with sheer brute force. He threw himself against the shattered reflection with everything he had, but Kaveh didn’t even blink. His wide eyes, now sparkling with a fresh wave of tears, remained locked on Alhaitham as the abstract figure crept closer - as though he’d stopped caring whether he survived, utterly indifferent to the blade poised behind his back.
Fist scraped raw by broken glass, panic began to overtake Alhaitham as he tried in vain to break through. “No!” Alhaitham cried again, clawing frantically at the splintered panelling. “Run! Do something! Fight back! Kaveh, fight back!”
Helpless tears blurred his vision as he watched his own form loom behind Kaveh, one shadowed hand lifting toward his neck while the blade hovered above his golden hair.
'I’m tired,' Kaveh mouthed. He rested his forehead against the fractured mirror, placing his palm gently over Alhaitham’s bloodied knuckles as steel glinted behind him. 'I hope you can find your peace when I’m gone, Haitham.'
Alhaitham’s throat felt like it was closing up. Struggling to speak around the terror choking him, he shook his head rapidly; but Kaveh simply leaned against the mirror, eyes fluttering shut, lips curved faintly in the saddest, weakest smile he’d ever worn.
It broke something in Alhaitham. Fighting against the crushing, invisible weight holding him down, he lunged at the mirror with an agonized cry just as the blade began to descend -
- and jerked awake into darkness.
He was upright before he understood where he was, hands fisted in his sheets, sweat cooling on his skin. Though his heart was slamming against his ribs so painfully he was sure a heart attack was imminent, he couldn’t be bothered with his own safety right now - not when the dream was still clinging to him like smoke.
Kaveh’s tears. His sad, defeated smile. The shattered mirror. That thing wearing Alhaitham’s grotesque reflection...
For a long, suspended moment, he sat trapped in his own body. Adrenaline was paralyzing every muscle, barely allowing him to gasp for shallow lungfuls of air as terror slithered up his throat like bile.
Not an ounce of his usual calculated grace remained. Instinct overriding reason, he tore the blankets away and stumbled down the hall toward Kaveh’s door. His trembling legs nearly buckled, the nightmare still too fresh in his mind to properly register the fact that he was awake, poisoning his reality - but he forced himself forward anyway.
The hallway swayed faintly around him, walls smudged at the corners - like his eyes were refusing to bring the world fully into focus. Even the silence felt distorted, thin and high-pitched, like a distant ringing layering into every breath he failed to take.
Pushing the door open without knocking, Alhaitham finally drew in his first successful inhale since regaining consciousness as his eyes fell upon Kaveh’s sleeping form illuminated by moonlight, chest rising and falling steadily.
Safe. Alive.
Alhaitham’s gaze snapped to the mirror on the far wall - confirming it was nothing more than a reflection of the room as it was - before the tension in his shoulders collapsed.
“Kaveh...” he breathed weakly, voice breaking with emotion that he’d been holding back for far too many years without release.
For a moment, the distance between himself and Kaveh’s bed seemed to warp - both impossibly far and uncomfortably close. Unable to orient himself, Alhaitham apprehensively stepped inside, gripped by the fear that one misstep might cause the floor to give way and plunge him back into the nightmare he’d barely escaped.
He crossed the room with unsteady legs and sank to his knees beside the bed, hands quivering as they curled into the sheets pooled around Kaveh’s legs. The faint ringing in his ears made his own breathing sound far too loud in the hush of the room - but it was harsh enough that it made Kaveh stir, pushing himself up onto one elbow and rubbing his eyes with a sleepy fist.
“Haitham?” he mumbled blearily. “What - mph!”
The sound of Kaveh’s voice brought such profound relief after the hellish dream that Alhaitham couldn’t stop himself. Without thinking, he surged upward, arms locking around Kaveh’s waist as he pulled him upright. Dropping heavily onto the mattress beside him, he enveloped Kaveh in a crushing hold, attempting to shield him from the shadows still stalking the edges of his consciousness.
Alhaitham couldn’t bring himself to care that he was streaking Kaveh’s hair with tears as he pressed him into his chest. Curling one hand around his waist and lifting the other to cradle Kaveh’s head protectively, Alhaitham allowed himself a taste of the touch he’d so carefully kept himself from indulging in since the day they met.
“Hey - hey,” Kaveh whispered, gentle yet confused. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
The tears swimming in Alhaitham’s eyes obscured his vision completely, leaving only the sensation of Kaveh’s arms as they wound around him rather than resisting his crushing grip. The steadying warmth of his body worked its way past Alhaitham’s frantic pulse and offered a tether to reality, keeping the lingering tendrils of anguish throbbing in his chest from consuming him.
“I couldn’t save you,” Alhaitham choked, voice splintering. His chest heaved with each hiccupping breath, arms tightening desperately around Kaveh. “I couldn’t... it was me, I - I was the one hurting you, I couldn’t...”
The words collapsed under their own weight, lodging themselves in his throat. How could he articulate the visceral terror of watching Kaveh slip away just before his eyes? Of seeing him accept his fate at Alhaitham’s hands? Or the horror of his own shadowed reflection raising a blade against the man he -
“I’ve been right here all night,” Kaveh began with a strangely emotion-filled whisper. “Nothing bad happened. It sounds like you just had a nightmare, Haitham.”
“No,” Alhaitham’s voice was raw and hoarse, fingers trembling in Kaveh’s hair. “I was hurting you, and you... you looked at me like you expected it. You let me.”
Still half-caught in the dream, trying to convince himself that Kaveh was safe - a difficult task even though he was currently held entirely within his arms - Alhaitham tried not to break apart under the uncontrollable flood of emotion surging through him. It felt all too plausible that Kaveh could slip through his fingers if he loosened his grip for even a moment.
“It was a dream,” Kaveh repeated, slightly more sure this time, combing a soothing hand through Alhaitham’s disheveled hair as though he were some kind of frightened animal rather than a grown man currently crushing Kaveh’s body in his arms. “Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real. I’m right here. You didn’t hurt me.”
A ragged sob tore loose from Alhaitham’s chest as he buried his face in Kaveh’s neck. “I did,” he whispered. “I did.”
“I - okay, maybe,” Kaveh conceded, hugging him more securely as Alhaitham slumped against him with a half-stifled cry of guilt. “But not like that. I’m... I’m still mad at you, but I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”
Unable to quell the emotion rising in his esophagus, Alhaitham threaded his fingers into Kaveh’s hair and yanked him forward, dragging him partially into his lap as he drew in deep, heaving breaths of his scent, tears spilling freely onto Kaveh’s warm skin.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped - apologizing for far more than their argument, more than he would ever be able to say aloud.
“Archons, Haitham... what kind of dream did you have?” Kaveh murmured, though there was a note of utter disbelief in his voice as he rubbed Alhaitham’s back in small circles to calm him. “Everything’s okay. I promise.”
The fact that Kaveh was angry yet still trying to comfort him only made Alhaitham cling harder, squeezing Kaveh’s small frame with a ferocity he never would’ve dared allow himself under any other circumstance. Kaveh, incredibly, let him, fingers stroking through his hair with slow, steadying motions.
Desperate to impress on Kaveh’s skin how precious he was now that his emotions were bursting free from beneath his usual rigid control, Alhaitham nuzzled against the curve of Kaveh’s neck and wrapped a shaky hand around the back of his head, repeating the same two words over and over.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed into Kaveh’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Alright,” Kaveh replied weakly. “I get it. Just breathe, Haitham. You’re okay.”
“I’m never okay,” Alhaitham gasped, lips brushing Kaveh’s skin with each broken word. “I’m never okay, because I’m...”
He tried to recall why he’d buried his feelings so deeply for all these years, the danger of revealing the depth of a love that had surrounded more than half his life - but the nightmare seemed to have ripped every one of his mental barriers apart. Unstoppable yet painfully potent, a mixture of grief, guilt, fear, and years of suppressed longing swelled behind his ribs.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do when I lose you,” Alhaitham confessed into Kaveh’s neck with a broken sob.
Kaveh stilled. For a long, quiet moment, he simply held Alhaitham.
“Who said you’re going to lose me?” he whispered at last.
“I...” Alhaitham couldn’t push the rest of the sentence out, each word stuck behind his lips like jagged shards of shattered glass.
Tears slid unchecked down his cheeks as the desperate strength drained from his grip, dissolving into something reverent, far more dangerous. He knew he shouldn’t touch so greedily, but the bone-deep despair that had long since settled around his unrequited love urged him to absorb every fragment of warmth Kaveh offered before it inevitably vanished.
His touch brimmed with sorrowful devotion, each pass of his fingers steeped in a selfishness he loathed - the same selfishness that he knew was the same reason he could never truly have Kaveh. Half-formed pleas crowded his tongue without direction, unsure what he even wanted to plead for.
For Kaveh to stay? To push him away? To run? To tell him once and for all that he was leaving before Alhaitham broke him entirely?
“I’m bad for you,” he whispered shakily, the words falling without permission between tear-filled breaths. “I hurt you. I’m selfish. I’m greedy. I bring you nothing but suffering. I try to keep you here even though I know you’d be happier without me.”
Cruelly, Kaveh only held him tighter - as if he sensed exactly how fragile Alhaitham was and was determined to keep him from breaking apart with nothing but his small, stubborn arms.
“Haitham, what -” Kaveh began with a heart wrenching crack in his voice. “What are you talking about?”
It only made the ache in Alhaitham’s chest sharpen. He didn’t deserve that kind of gentleness.
“I spend my nights praying for your misfortune just so you’ll stay,” Alhaitham admitted through clenched teeth, burning with shame, “hoping you drown in your debt forever just so you never have a reason to leave me. You don’t -”
Alhaitham’s breath faltered against the warm curve of his neck. He couldn’t keep Kaveh from chasing his happiness, unwilling to continue deluding himself that he was anything more than that corrupted shadow holding him back. “- you don’t deserve that, Kaveh.”
It was true. He was bad for Kaveh. Kaveh should leave. And yet... Alhaitham burrowed closer, fingers twitching with the wretched need to dig in and hold on even as he tried to convince Kaveh to break away.
“Gods, you’re an asshole,” Kaveh mumbled - though instead of pushing him off, his fingers softened in Alhaitham’s hair, thumb rubbing intoxicatingly sweet circles at the base of his neck.
“Yeah,” Alhaitham said miserably.
“Shut up.”
The reprimand tore a small, pitiful sound from Alhaitham, bracing for the rejection that would inevitably follow.
But Kaveh’s palm pressed more firmly into the back of Alhaitham’s neck - holding him in place rather than prying him away, settling into his lap and blanketing Alhaitham’s body with blissful sensory pressure. If anyone were to reject someone while still hugging them, Alhaitham supposed it would be Kaveh.
“Do you really think I’d still be here if I didn’t want to be?” Kaveh whispered, gentler now. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve. And you definitely don’t get to decide what’s good for me.” His nails dragged lightly along Alhaitham’s scalp, a caress so soft it had him devolving into another wave of silent tears. “You don’t get to decide what I want, either. Because I... I like being here with you. Even if you’re a dick sometimes.”
Alhaitham’s jaw tensed against Kaveh’s impossibly velvety skin. Kaveh didn’t understand - the desire that filled Alhaitham wasn’t innocent, far from simple, platonic friendship. If Kaveh only knew how deeply Alhaitham craved him, the carnal need that consumed his very soul...
Yet instead of snapping back with the sharp, biting words that were his natural defense, all Alhaitham could do was shiver against Kaveh’s skin as he was scolded - shaken by how easily he softened under Kaveh’s touch, by how shamefully good it felt to be held instead of pushed away. It made him feel even more pathetic, stealing Kaveh’s kindness rather than nurturing it.
Alhaitham’s trembling fingers descended from Kaveh’s waist to his hip, slipping beneath the hem of his shirt to rest against breathtakingly warm, bare skin. Breathing heavily against Kaveh’s neck, he swallowed the confession trying to tear its way out from behind his ribs.
Kaveh would hate him if he knew the truth.
But Alhaitham couldn’t let go, couldn’t force his fingers to disengage, to release Kaveh from his greedy clutches.
“Haitham,” Kaveh whispered again, far too addictive for two syllables - and far too easy for Alhaitham to interpret as desire rather than disdain. The way Kaveh said his name was the most alluring drug he’d ever known.
A strangled swallow scraped his throat as he shifted his lips against Kaveh’s skin, hovering above his pulse. Kaveh’s breath hitched sharply - just a fraction, but Alhaitham felt it like a thunderclap in the silence between them.
One breath deeper and it would be a kiss... yet he stayed perfectly still. Because despite the ache shredding through his chest, despite how right Kaveh felt pressed against him - delicate hands threaded in his hair, heart pounding against his ribs - he knew this was borrowed warmth. If he crossed that line, he would lose Kaveh forever.
“I’m so tired of being afraid,” Alhaitham whispered brokenly into the dark. “But I’m so, so terrified of having to find out what my life is without you again.”
“Yeah.” Kaveh exhaled a slow, unsteady breath, trembling on the verge of what sounded shockingly close to tears. “Me too.”
Alhaitham shook his head - but before he could speak, Kaveh shifted in his lap and guided his mouth forward.
Unable to resist even though he knew it couldn’t possibly be what Kaveh wanted, Alhaitham melted helplessly with a needy, broken sound - and pressed a shaky kiss just beneath his jaw.
Kaveh, however, didn’t fly off of his lap. He didn’t recoil, didn’t scream at Alhaitham. He did tighten his hold in Alhaitham’s hair - but instead of tugging him away, he released a soft, intoxicating sigh... and pulled him closer.
Alhaitham froze, lips suspended against the fluttering pulse beneath them, breath caught somewhere between a sob and a shudder.
This wasn’t rejection.
This was - archons help him... acceptance?
Alhaitham’s next inhale stuttered into a short, labored wheeze as the realization crashed over him. He didn’t move, rigid in the wake of his understanding - but all it took was Kaveh’s gentle, accepting hum as his hand tightened in Alhaitham’s hair and urged him closer to pull a whine from Alhaitham’s chest, chancing a second gentle kiss against Kaveh’s skin.
In response, Kaveh breathed out Alhaitham’s name - a soft, seductive sound that carved the shape of something profound deep inside Alhaitham’s chest. “Haitham... you’re such an idiot,” Kaveh whispered again, voice thick with emotion.
Without warning, Kaveh twisted around and slipped off his lap - but Alhaitham had only just begun to mourn the loss of his warmth when Kaveh grabbed him with an insistent hand and dragged him beneath the ridiculously large mountain of quilts he slept buried under.
The moment the blankets fell over them, Kaveh curled around him - arms looped around his shoulders, legs tangled together, chest pressed flush to Alhaitham’s own. Facing one another on their sides, Kaveh gathered him close, guiding Alhaitham’s head against the steadily beating heart in his chest and surrounding him with the sweet scent of flowers permeating the sheets.
“I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to,” Kaveh murmured. “So stop acting like you’re some kind of monster when all you want is the same thing as everyone else.”
“You don’t think I’m a monster?” Alhaitham asked quietly.
“Of course not. But if you’re that worried about making me miserable, just try not to be such an asshole.”
Alhaitham deflated. “I... alright. I’ll try.”
“... I’ll try to be more mindful of the noise I make while you’re trying to sleep, too. But we’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” Kaveh brushed his fingers over Alhaitham’s temple. “You’re overstimulated. You need rest.”
Alhaitham didn’t know what this all meant - didn’t know if it was some sort of miracle or simply a fragile moment he was destined to misread - but he didn’t dare ask. Instead, he tucked himself greedily against Kaveh’s body, arms coiling timidly around his waist.
“Okay,” Alhaitham whispered helplessly.
His breathing gradually began to steady in the hush of Kaveh’s bedroom - until Kaveh sighed and inclined his head.
Alhaitham practically melted into the bed as Kaveh’s lips brushed his forehead. Kaveh didn’t even seem to care about the sweat cooling along Alhaitham’s brow, lingering there and rubbing gentle circles over his hairline.
He lifted his lips away with a soft smooching sound, then brushed Alhaitham’s hair from his forehead to repeat the gesture on the other side. Eventually, he pulled back entirely, allowing Alhaitham to bury his nose against his sternum once again with a deep inhale as he sought the calming scent of padisarahs. For such a chaotic, emotional night, he felt shockingly at peace with Kaveh’s hand in his hair, curled against his chest like a needy cat.
“I really am sorry,” Alhaitham whispered into Kaveh’s skin.
“I know. Shut up.” It wasn’t a reprimand this time, just a gentle reminder.
Then, as though offering his own sort of apology for the late-night commotion he’d stirred all week, Kaveh’s fingers drifted to the shell of Alhaitham’s ear. With a soft hum, he began to rub it lightly between his thumb and forefinger - using what had to be some sort of Inazuman martial arts technique, since Alhaitham was instantly liquefied by it.
Alhaitham thought he might have voiced some half-coherent fear about the nightmare returning, but the last thing he registered before falling into the deepest sleep he’d had in ages was Kaveh reassuring him that he’d be right there if it did, lips coming to rest against the top of his head.
“Did it work?” Scara asked with a bored expression - though the way he leaned one elbow against the windowsill looked a little too casual, like he was trying very hard to appear as though he hadn’t been looking into the holographic reflection of the house along the cobblestone below.
“I believe so.” Nahida smiled warmly, kicking her feet in the air as she swung back and forth. “I do feel guilty for causing them so much distress, but I’m glad it was effective.”
Scara’s eyes narrowed. “You gave Alhaitham such a bad nightmare he sobbed like a baby.”
Nahida blinked. “You watched?”
Scara crossed his arms and blew a raspberry. “I was monitoring.” He floated away from the window with his nose slightly upturned. “... Someone had to make sure you didn’t traumatize them too badly.”
“Oh.” Nahida’s expression brightened. “Thank you, Hat Guy.”
He scoffed and turned away with a dramatic swirl - one that didn’t quite hide the tiny flicker of satisfaction tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Whatever. Just warn me next time you’re going to meddle in their lives. I’ll bring Sethos.”