Chapter Text
Kaveh’s not quite sure how he never noticed.
For a man of his intellect, it’s rather embarrassing that he didn’t draw the conclusion sooner. Clearly, his time at Kshahrewar taught him nothing –– especially nothing about observational skills.
He’s an architect, he’s supposed to have an eye for picking up the details put right in front of him. His eyes have been trained to weed out the elements hidden in plain sight. He can differentiate between the intricate Ashvattha floral tiling styles. Various fabrics and textiles are no match for his particular tastes, but this has managed to somehow completely escape his attention.
Alhaitham is deaf.
In all the years of knowing the man, and as his roommate, Kaveh cannot believe that he had no idea that Alhaitham is hard of hearing. It’s even more embarrassing now, since they live together. He wants to be angry – angry that Alhaitham didn’t tell him sooner (or at all, really) – but he’s more mad at himself for not coming to the conclusion faster.
It’s taken Kaveh an entire year of living under the same roof as the brutish idiot to figure it out.
To his credit, Alhaitham was pretty good at hiding his deafness. His speech is unhindered and he spoke just as fluently as any other hearing person. He also reacts to sound and is capable of having conversations with his back turned to people (a fact that Kaveh has experienced firsthand, on multiple occasions). He’s deaf, but he’s not helpless.
He doesn’t know exactly how deaf Alhaitham is. It could range anywhere from moderate hearing loss to a total lack of hearing, but the fact still remained. Now that Kaveh’s scrutinizing it, there were a few obvious tells:
1.) Alhaitham has a very intense stare. He’s observational to a fault.
Alhaitham was constantly aware of his surroundings. He had a tendency to survey everything he came across with an analytical stare. His eyes would flicker to every doorway that opened, regardless of if it creaked on the hinges or not. He would take note of every person who entered the room and have their mannerisms committed to memory after conversing once.
The level of detail he paid mind to was truly impressive, and Kaveh thinks that he might have made a wonderful architect if he didn’t have an absolute and utter disregard for the arts.
When they first met, Kaveh was intimidated by Alhaitham’s sharp green and red pupils following every minute movement, taking in every shuffle, twitch of muscle, and breath of air with rapt attention.
To be completely honest, it was a little off-putting. Kaveh felt unnecessarily exposed under Alhaitham’s acute gaze, and he was hyper aware of every movement he made around the man.
This was especially true whenever Kaveh would speak directly to him.
The first few months of their friendship consisted of Kaveh talking at Alhaitham, rather than with him, and while most would consider it rude, it was really the only way the two were able to communicate. (Kaveh uses this term…. loosely. ) He quickly picked up that Alhaitham was not much of a conversationalist and was more than content with being a listening ear, but Archons, the way he goes about it is the most pretentious, asshole-y thing ever.
Kaveh would start a spiel and Alhaitham wouldn’t even glance up from whatever book he’s got his nose buried in this time around.
It pissed Kaveh off to no end. He flourishes under a shower of attention (as reported by his peers, he likes to describe it as preferring to have an engaged audience), and the lack of visual response made Kaveh feel like his words were going in one ear and out the other.
Eventually, after nearly a month of one-sided rants, Kaveh stops his praise of the construction of Pardis Dhyai and explosively yells, “Damn it, Alhaitham, look at me when I’m talking to you! Are you even listening to me?”
The words cause Alhaitham’s spine to stiffen, and for a long, horrible moment, Kaveh fears that he may have gone too far. He waits for Alhaitham to say something, anything , and when the linguist remains quiet, Kaveh physically wilts.
The air had gone cold around them, and Kaveh can practically feel the ire radiating off of Alhaitham. It’s not exactly a secret that Alhaitham’s not the most… social person at the Akademiya, but Kaveh can tell that he’s a good friend. Of course he would be listening.
An apology formed at the edge of his lips, but he holds his tongue, and decides to just start packing up his things. It’s obvious that Alhaitham didn’t want him there, and it would do well to just leave.
With his heart in his stomach, and the guilt of what he said weighing down on his chest, Kaveh focuses his eyes downward as he shoves his drafting papers and sticks of charcoal into his bag. His eyes start to burn and he feels awful .
Then, Alhaitham asks, “Where are you going?”
Kaveh freezes as he lifts the top of his knapsack. A quizzical noise escapes his throat and he looks over at Alhaitham.
He’s put his book down, a bookmark shoved in between the pages, and green eyes trained on him.
“I, uh.” says Kaveh intelligently, unable to handle the weight of Alhaitham’s stare.
Alhaitham tsks , taking initiative, “You were talking about how the design of the Pardis Dhyai drew inspiration from the surrounding flora,” he rolls his eyes as he makes quotations marks and repeats in a mockery of Kaveh’s voice, “ the open air concept truly is reminiscent of a Nilotpala Lotus blossoming in the dead of night. A work of genius! ”
Kaveh makes an undignified noise, “I do not sound like that!” He ignores the way his chest tightens at the fact that Alhaitham was listening.
Alhaitham crosses his arms as he resettles in his chair, his body facing toward Kaveh now. “Had me fooled, honestly. But do go on.”
Kaveh launches a stub of charcoal at him before returning to his monologue, trying to tamp down the fuzzy feeling in his chest.
The way Alhaitham’s eyes carefully watched his lips as they moved sent shivers down Kaveh’s spine. (A furious blush also began to creep its way up his neck but he’s not touching that with a 10 foot pole. He’ll just have to live with saying that he was caught off guard by how intently Alhaitham was listening to him at that moment).
Kaveh has never doubted if Alhaitham was listening after that.
But he understands now that Alhaitham was reading his lips because he couldn’t hear, not staring him down.
2.) Alhaitham signs to himself sometimes.
The action is much more subdued nowadays, but back at the Akademiya, Kaveh would notice him fidgeting with his hands sometimes when poring over an assignment. At first, he thought it was a nervous tic, but hindsight is 20/20. Alhaitham’s hands would lazily sign something as he skimmed a textbook, though it seemed that he was completely unaware of it. Kaveh has no idea what exactly it was that he signed, but he thinks it may have been a memorization trick, much like how repeating something out loud would help the idea stick.
The habit shows its face at home, whenever Alhaitham is reviewing documents for his job as the Scribe, or whenever he’s in a hurry to memorize mission notes and needs to retain the information quickly.
Kaveh hasn’t commented on the action in fear of Alhaitham stopping out of embarrassment, so it’s a private little moment that Kaveh holds dear to his heart when he catches Alhaitham in the act.
These days, Alhaitham has taken to crossing his arms whenever talking to people. He says it serves as an intimidation tactic, and proves incredibly useful whenever he’s interrogating or trying to wheedle information out of someone. Kaveh thinks it’s bullshit, he’s pretty sure that he just wants to put his infuriatingly beefy arms on display because he secretly likes being ogled at. But he can see the way Alhaitham’s fingers twitch where they rest on his bicep, the digits halfway to forming a word mid-conversation.
3.) He literally wears a hearing aid all the time.
Kaveh has never seen him without it. The green and the gold accents of the device are a stark contrast against his ash gray hair, and practically scream ‘Hey, look at me!’
He’s never thought to ask Alhaitham about it because if he’s being honest, Kaveh thought that it was just some random accessory that he had taken to wearing everyday. It’s hardly the strangest thing that he’s seen people wear around the Akademiya. It’s student culture to modify the uniform to the point of being unrecognizable. He himself has added a few accessories to his daily wear.
He should have picked up on it immediately when he moved in. Alhaitham never took it off, even when he sheds his nonsensical, ridiculously tight outfit that he wears everyday for his looser-fitting lounge clothes.
The only time Kaveh can recall seeing him without the earpiece is when he accidentally ran into Alhaitham leaving the bathroom after a shower.
His things were bundled up in his arms and a towel was secured around his waist, his upper half entirely exposed. In the warm light of the oil lamps scattered around the house, Kaveh could see the way the water from Alhaitham’s hastily-dried hair tantalizingly trailed down his neck to his sculpted chest. It took Kaveh a little too long to realize what was happening before turning around and muttering something about indecency and regard for other people.
It’s safe to say that Kaveh was too distracted by other things to notice that he hadn’t put his hearing aid back in.
Alhaitham eyed his form quietly, the ghost of a smile hinting at his lips. He hadn’t heard exactly what Kaveh said, but he had an idea. He shuffles past Kaveh, annoyingly unaffected, and it takes all of the architect’s willpower to not crumble on the spot.
3.5.) Alhaitham is constantly adjusting his hearing aid.
Adding on to the last point, Kaveh notices that Alhaitham has a habit of reaching up to his hearing aid and adjusting the settings on it. Kaveh originally thought that he was just scratching an itch or moving a piece of hair out of his face, but after some subtle observation (it was observation , to sate his researcher’s heart, not infatuated staring, because what a ridiculous notion that is, right?), he notices the nearly-imperceptible dials and sliders on the side of the aid.
Whenever in a noisy area like a busy cafe, or when the students in the Akademiya’s library get a little too rowdy, Alhaitham will brush his fingertips over the side of the aid and adjust the volume level. Or so Kaveh suspects, he still hasn’t had the courage to ask him exactly how the device works. It’s a matter of pride at this point.
He recalls that Alhaitham once said that they’re noise canceling, and he wonders if that was some sort of subtle joke towards his deafness or the actual truth. It’s hard to tell with his imperturbable attitude.
Alhaitham loves to take full advantage of the feature, especially in arguments with Kaveh, because he likes to tune out Kaveh entirely by turning the damn thing off.
Kaveh used to think that Alhaitham had mastered the art of ignoring him. The man would remain unflappable as he continued to read his worn copy of The Origins of Enkanomiyan Language , even when Kaveh was a hair’s breadth away from shattering the windows of their house with his severity of pitch.
No amount of screaming, threats to throw things, or violently waving in front of him could get Alhaitham to pause in his thirst for knowledge. As it turns out, Alhaitham literally just turns his hearing aids off so he doesn’t have to listen to Kaveh.
It’s for this exact reason that Kaveh has decided to learn Sumerian Sign Language.
…
Okay, perhaps it’s not the only reason. Deep down, Kaveh believes that it’s his duty as Alhaitham’s roommate to learn what is technically his native language, but he also refuses to lose arguments because of something so petty.
He’s tired of their debates getting cut short because Alhaitham doesn’t want to listen to him anymore. It’s then that he devises the perfect plan: he’s going to become fluent in SSL, and the next time Alhaitham decides he’s amounted to background noise, he’ll continue the conversation right where he left off.
It’s a bit of an audacious plan, he will admit, but Kaveh is nothing if not stubborn. He will get the final word if it’s the last thing he does.
So, he studies. It’s quite possibly the worst thing to ever happen to him.
Although he graduated top of his class, Kaveh was just blessed to be born with a natural affinity to the material given to him. All it took for him to nail a concept was a single explanation or demonstration and he’s already committed it to memory. He’s never had to study or practice for a single test.
Which is what makes learning SSL so difficult.
For any language, the basis of learning is repetition. It means doing the same thing over and over and over again until it becomes second nature.
Kaveh never had the patience for any of that. He’s too fidgety to be able to sit down and study the same information for an extended period, he constantly wants to do more, even if he hasn’t entirely mastered something yet. “The jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one” and all that.
It’s not very conducive to his learning.
“This is awful,” he complains as he rests his forehead on the desk, his hands still held in the air, fingers caught between fingerspelling his name for the fifteenth time. “Do we really have to do this?”
Tighnari, who has so graciously offered to be his teacher (Kaveh showed up at his doorstep and practically begged him), whacks him on the head with a roll of paper. “No talking, I’m deaf and I can’t hear you. Also, sit up. Half of SSL is rooted in facial expressions. Practicing with your face down on the desk is the equivalent of speaking with a muffled voice.”
“Alright, alright,” Kaveh grumbles as he sits up, “I thought it was customary for the deaf person to give you a name, so why do I have to spell it out?”
Tighnari crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, an eyebrow raised mockingly at him, “Do you always ask stupid questions? How are they supposed to give you a name if they don’t know how to spell it?”
“You know, if I wanted a green asshole to teach me SSL I would have just asked Alhaitham to teach me himself.”
Tighnari rolls his eyes. “You’re the one who wants to learn. Don’t take it out on me.”
Kaveh’s digits cramp on the ‘V’ in his name and figures that a break is in order. He sits up and massages the joints. He’s pretty sure that he’s never endured this much fatigue in his hands, even when he was practically bound to his chair the year he had to come up with his senior thesis.
His heart stings at the thought of a younger Alhaitham going through the exact same thing.
“I’m curious, how did you become fluent in SSL anyway?”
Tighnari shrugs, “It was an elective I took for a few years while at Amurta. I figured it would be useful if I ever had any hard of hearing patients in the future.”
Kaveh makes a hum of acknowledgement, “Was it worth it? As far as I’m aware, you don’t get too many deaf patients.”
Tighnari smiles slightly, “I mean, I’m teaching you now, so I would consider it pretty useful.”
Kaveh evens him out with a dead stare.
One of Tighnari’s ears twitches, and he swats away one of the bugs that had flown into his personal hut. “But to answer your question, yes, I would consider it pretty worth it. Even though I’ve only had a handful of deaf patients so far, it’s always nice to see the smile they get when they realize that they can communicate comfortably. It’s not something that they experience often.”
Kaveh wonders how Alhaitham would react. Would he be that appreciative? It’s hard to imagine that his face has the necessary muscles to smile, so that idea is out the window. A more appropriate response would probably be to make fun of him for his clunky signing. Kaveh would not at all be surprised if he had the gall to just close his eyes to avoid the conversation.
He looks forward to it.
Tighnari, ever the diligent leader, whacks him again with the roll of paper. “Back to work, you’ll never become fluent at this rate.”
Kaveh practices every moment he could get to himself. Whenever he goes out to eat, he always signs his order under the table as he reads it off the menu. He bought a small mirror to put in his room to practice his facial expressions. Even during the long hours he spends holed up in his studio to draft, he signs out his entire thought process. He became so engrossed in practicing that he nearly forgot about Alhaitham’s presence in his life. Their exchanges are cut short when Kaveh is always rushing out for work or to visit Tighnari. It leaves no time for their typical banter.
Of course, Kaveh could only hide his newfound hobby for so long. The frequent weekends away when he wasn’t scheduled to be the lead architect were bound to rouse suspicion and eventually, Alhaitham picked up on Kaveh’s change in routine and the lack of animosity from the architect. It comes up in conversation one night when he comes home particularly late from Gandharva Ville after a lengthy lesson with Tighnari.
Alhaitham is stretched out on the couch in the living room, and doesn’t look up from whatever book he’s reading this time when he asks, “Fun night out on the town?”
His tone is dry, and the raised eyebrow he dons could only be referring to the overnight bag that Kaveh has ungraciously slung over his shoulder. He was in Gandharva Ville for longer than he expected, and when he finally checked the clock, it was well past his time to leave. He ended up just shoving all of his belongings back into the bag and not bothering to organize until he got back home.
The trek from Gandharva Ville was not a short one, and it had started raining during the last leg of the trip, so he had no other option but to sprint through the rain all the way back to the house.
Kaveh had to propose a draft to a construction board the following morning, it was already late at night, and he was dripping all over the floor. He shucks off his shoes and leaves them by the door to dry. He sighs, “Could we not do this right now? I’m tired and I have a proposal meeting tomorrow.” He wants nothing more than to rest.
But Alhaitham has a talent for pushing his buttons. “Not until you tell me where you’ve been going on the weekends.”
Kaveh pads over to their linen closet to pull out a towel and frowns. “What are you, my dad?”
Alhaitham flips a page, feigning nonchalance, “Hardly. Technically speaking, I’m your landlord, and I think as one of my tenants, I should be allowed to know where you’ve been.”
Kaveh’s face twitches with annoyance. “We’re both grown adults, am I not allowed the right to privacy?”
He flips another page, and it irks Kaveh, because there was simply no way he had finished a page in that amount of time. He knew Alhaitham, and he could see the beginnings of irritation lingering in his expression. For whatever reason, his outings bother the linguist.
“That’s not what I said, I was simply asking where you’ve been.”
The comment causes Kaveh’s eyes to narrow. “Why does it matter to you, anyway? As far as I was aware, you wanted me out of your house as soon as possible.”
Another flipped page, and Kaveh knows for sure that Alhaitham’s just doing it to goad him at this point. Alhaitham’s tone is clipped at his next response. “No need to get defensive, I was just asking where you go on the weekends. You’re out so often that I’m wondering if you even get the full worth of your rent money.”
Kaveh’s jaw drops open, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Alhaitham finally closes the godforsaken book and sits up to place it on the table. His multicolored eyes focus on Kaveh’s form. (He’s still dripping all over the floor, but he’s not sure if it's the dampness or the weight of Alhaitham’s stare that sends shivers down his spine).
“I just simply meant that if you found yourself a place to stay, there’s no point in paying rent here anymore, hm? From the looks of it, you and Tighnari have been getting on swimmingly in Gandharva Ville.”
Kaveh splutters, because he genuinely has no idea what to say. “Tighnari– what does he have to do with any of this?” Then, “And how did you even know about that? I never even told you where I was going?!”
Alhaitham purses his lips, “I have my sources––”
Kaveh scoffs, “Do your sources include an abuse of diplomatic power?”
He continued unhindered, “––and I found by asking around that you had been regularly asking to hitch caravan rides out of the city to visit a certain Amurta graduate. If I wasn’t looking at you with my own eyes, I might have believed that you were seeking private treatment from him for a hidden ailment. But I think something more personal is afoot.”
Something more personal…? Kaveh shakes his head, flinging droplets of water everywhere. “Okay, wait, wait. Now I’m lost. Care to elaborate? Since you seem to have the whole situation figured out.”
Alhaitham only narrows his eyes.
Kaveh huffs. “Oh, now you’ve got nothing to say? You seemed to be filled with quips when you were accusing me of being a homewrecker!” The absurdity of the situation is hilarious, because never in a million years could Kaveh imagine inserting himself into Tighnari and Cyno’s… relationship? He’s actually not quite sure what their status is, but at this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if they had some legal officiation tucked away somewhere.
“I didn’t say that you were a homewrecker, those words came out of your own mouth,” says Alhaitham pettily.
Kaveh hits his boiling point, and starts pacing around the living room. “I’m not seeing Tighnari romantically! Archons, Alhaitham what is your deal!? It’s almost like you care about who I’m seeing––” He’s cut off with a scoff from Alhaitham.
A “ What is it now?” was poised on his tongue when the realization struck him. Was Alhaitham…? Surely not, because that would be ridiculous.
He laughs incredulously, “Are you jealous?”
Alhaitham’s eyes immediately divert from him and focus elsewhere. He seems to catch his mistake though, and forces his attention back to Kaveh.
The action is subtle but the damage has already been done. Kaveh drops his bag and it hits the floor with a wet thud. “You are! You’re jealous and you’re worried that I went and found a new roommate!”
Alhaitham turns and mutters something to himself that sounds suspiciously like “I would hardly attribute the jealousy to something as cursory as a roommate.”
Kaveh smiles guilefully, “What was that, dear Scribe? I couldn’t quite catch that.” He can see the way that he’s started to back the linguist into a corner. The high from potentially winning the argument just barely overshadows the growing feeling of butterflies fluttering in his ribcage. The implications of something else driving the jealousy has his heart doing flips.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“I actually think that it’s completely within the realm of my concern.”
Alhaitham tsks , and redirects instead. “You’re dripping water all over the floor, go change and mop up your mess.”
“Are you serious? You’re just going to leave it at that? Tell me why you’re jealous, Alhaitham.”
The Scribe doesn’t even dignify him with a response. Instead, he snatches his book up off the table and resettles into the comfortable position he had before. He makes a big show out of opening the book to the page he had left off on and trained his eyes to move robotically over the words. Before Kaveh can get a word in edgewise, he’s already reached up and cut off all auditory contact.
“Oh no you don’t.”
Kaveh’s heart races, because this is it. This is the exact moment he had been waiting for.
He unceremoniously lifts Alhaitham’s legs up to make space to flop down onto the couch and grabs the book out of his hand. The Scribe starts to complain, both at the loss of his precious read, and also at the fact that Kaveh was getting water everywhere.
Kaveh ignores him and instead chooses to yank Alhaitham into a sitting position. He makes sure that he’s fully facing him when he signs, “I’m not done talking to you.”
Alhaitham’s eyes widen in shock and he’s pretty sure that’s the most emotion he’s ever seen on the man.
‘Apathetic’ is the word that most people would use to describe Alhaitham. Kaveh knows better, that buried somewhere deep inside the unnecessary muscle and the bullheadedness is a sliver of something resembling a human being with emotions. He’s never seen it himself, not when Alhaitham’s grandmother had died, not when he had his first research project approved, not when he graduated from Haravatat, nor when he was promoted to Scribe.
He’s never experienced the full range of Alhaitham’s emotions, but if he had to take a guess at what they looked like, it would be the image of Alhaitham now.
He’s frozen on the spot, his kaleidoscopic eyes drowning in pure, unfettered shock, and his mouth slightly open, like his lips were chasing the words to say but couldn’t quite catch them.
He looks so human .
For a moment, Kaveh worries that he messed up. He scoured his brain for grammatical errors, Tighnari had given him the stamp of approval to start signing with Alhaitham. He’s not as fluent as he is verbally, but he knows enough to get his point across. ‘Conversational,’ Tighnari had dubbed him.
“Alhaitham? Are you alright?” he signs again.
Still no movement. Apprehension quickly mounting, he opts to wave in Alhaitham’s face. “Hello..? Is anyone there?” he calls out. He realizes belatedly that he couldn’t hear, but he’s sure that Alhaitham could read his lips.
The lack of response (or any indication of life, really) was starting to stress Kaveh out and he began rambling, “I know you can read my lips, Alhaitham. Was it insensitive of me to sign with you? I didn’t mean to offend you if it was, I learned it just to keep quarreling with you, I didn’t realize that it would cause such a reaction. I’ll stop if you want me to––”
“Do it again,” Alhaitham whispers.
Kaveh almost didn’t catch it in his frantic apologies. “Huh?”
“Do it again,” says Alhaitham; an emotion that Kaveh couldn’t identify starting to color the edge of his words. “Sign again, please.”
The complete turnaround has Kaveh reeling. Was he mad? It was hard to tell, but he hadn’t tried to kill Kaveh yet, so perhaps not.
That being said, he’s not quite sure what to say, but the way Alhaitham is staring has him scrambling to find something to sign. He decides on the basics, and introduces himself.
“Hello. My name is K-A-V-E-H.”
Alhaitham drew a sharp breath, watching as Kaveh’s fingers formed words familiar only to him. His face bears an unrestrained fascination, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing with his own eyes.
Kaveh had only signed five words, but he could tell that they meant millions more to the Scribe.
“Hello Ka–” a sign that Kaveh didn’t know yet followed the greeting. Alhaitham had reached up to his head and made a pinching motion, like he had pulled a feather from his scalp. It takes a few seconds for him to register that this must be the name that Alhaitham is giving him, and it probably refers to the quill he has sticking out of his hair. The action is so intimate that it nearly hurts. “ My name is A-L-H-T-M.”
It’s Kaveh’s turn to be shy now, because all he can manage is a short, bashful wave. He’s not quite sure what to say after that.
Lucky for him, Alhaitham takes the initiative. “You know SSL?” he asks.
“Yes, Tighnari taught me.”
“Why?”
“To argue with you, obviously.”
Alhaitham barks out a laugh, reaching up to turn his hearing aids back on. “Of course that would be why you learned it.”
There’s something guarded in his eyes, and Kaveh can feel the walls start to go back up. The short peek he had gotten at Alhaitham’s soul was enough to have him addicted, and he would do anything to keep being exposed to it.
“That’s not the only reason,” he blurts a little too quickly. His face flushed with embarrassment because he sounded so desperate. It was humiliating.
But it’s worth it. Alhaitham carefully eyes him, and Kaveh swallows his pride to admit quietly, “I learned it because I wanted you to have someone to sign with. Even if you can speak just fine, I think you at least deserve the courtesy of having someone to converse with in your native tongue.”
The admission feels like a declaration of his feelings. Nobody in their right mind would just learn another language to argue with their roommate. That type of commitment is reserved for a certain emotion. One he had been afraid to name, but it’s hard to deny love when it’s staring you in the face.
The urge to escape is strong, but Kaveh forces himself to stay put, waiting for Alhaitham’s response. He needs to know how he feels about Kaveh’s near-confession.
Alhaitham only nods, processing the information. Kaveh can feel his spirit deflate. He had said too much.
After a moment, Alhaitham puts up another sign. This one is completely foreign to Kaveh, and he studies it carefully, trying to decipher it.
Alhaitham’s hand was palm out, all fingers up, save for the middle and the ring, which were curled inward. It resembles the rock ‘n roll symbol that he’s seen the odd musician make here and there.
“What does that mean?” Kaveh asks.
A familiarly enigmatic smile makes a home on Alhaitham’s lips. “That’s a secret, I’m sure you’ll figure it out one day.”
The cryptic answer forces a huff out of Kaveh. Fine, if Alhaitham didn’t want to tell him, he can keep his secrets. Kaveh respects privacy, unlike a certain silver-haired Scribe.
He thinks that’s the end of it, and starts to get up to change out of his still-wet clothes. They were starting to stick uncomfortably to his skin, and the bodily chills he was starting to feel are getting unbearable. Just as he pries himself from the leather of the couch, Alhaitham grabs his wrist.
Kaveh raises an eyebrow at him in question.
“I’ll give you a hint at what the sign means, if you’ll let me.” There was a hint of nervousness to be heard.
“Sate my curiosity, please.”
Alhaitham says nothing and stands up, moving into Kaveh’s space. The proximity is disorienting, despite the fact that Kaveh had Alhaitham’s legs draped over himself for the last 20 minutes.
He can smell the scent of Kalpalata Lotuses and worn pages from this close, and it’s hard not to be intoxicated.
Kaveh worries that his heart is beating loud enough that the hearing aid would pick it up. “You’re rather close for this explanation, Alhaitham. Is the translation so lucrative that you need to whisper it to me?”
“You talk too much,” is all Alhaitham says before pressing his lips to Kaveh’s. It effectively shuts him up.
He was able to figure out what the sign meant after that.
Later, after Kaveh takes a warm bath and finally dons some warm clothes, Alhaitham beckons him to join him on the couch. Kaveh takes the opportunity to stretch out on top of the Scribe, slotting himself between the book in hand to lay his head on his chest. Kaveh relishes in the way one of Alhaitham’s hands settles on his back.
“I just have one request for you, Kaveh.” The deep rumble is a novelty from this position.
“What is it, ‘Haitham?”
“For the love of all that is sacred, stop building your mock-up models in the middle of the night. Even when I take my hearing aids out, I swear I can still hear you hammering away in your room. I’m going to kick you to the streets if you don’t cut it out.”
Kaveh only laughs, pressing a placating kiss to Alhaitham’s shoulder. “Creativity waits for nobody, dear. I will try but I can’t make any promises.”
Alhaitham rolls his eyes, but makes no move to argue further. If Kaveh can learn to sign for him, he can learn to listen.