Work Text:
The sun hung low over the Razan Gardens, casting warm golden hues over the lush greenery. Kaveh sat cross-legged on the grass, sketchbook in his lap, scribbling the early outlines of a grand design for some future project. Alhaitham, more reserved, leaned back against a tree nearby, a book open but forgotten in his hands. The sound of wind rustling through the leaves was the only thing that punctuated the comfortable silence between them, the Akademiya’s towering walls faintly visible in the distance.
“You should add some ornamental carvings to that,” Alhaitham finally remarked, glancing at Kaveh’s sketch, his voice neutral but laced with familiarity.
Kaveh huffed, rolling his eyes but grinning. “Ornamental carvings? Do you even know how hard those are to maintain?”
“Maintenance is secondary to beauty,” Alhaitham countered, though his tone suggested he was mostly teasing now.
Kaveh shook his head, muttering something about practicality, but he didn’t stop sketching. The conversation drifted, dipping into the usual topics of study and Sumeru’s architecture, the banter easy between them, almost rhythmic. Kaveh, ever the talkative one, gestured wildly with his hands as he elaborated on an intricate concept for a future pavilion.
As he spoke, without even realizing it, their hands—resting in the grass between them—began to slowly shift closer. Kaveh’s pinky brushed against Alhaitham’s, a featherlight touch that stilled both of them instantly. Kaveh paused mid-sentence, his breath catching ever so slightly. Alhaitham didn’t move, didn’t speak, but Kaveh could sense the subtle tension in his posture, the way his book was held a little too still.
After a heartbeat, Kaveh’s pinky deliberately hooked around Alhaitham’s, a silent test. Alhaitham’s eyes flicked down to where their hands barely touched, his stoic facade faltering for just a second, and then, without a word, his fingers responded. Slowly, cautiously, their hands shifted until Alhaitham’s larger hand settled over Kaveh’s, their palms pressing together.
Kaveh’s heart was pounding. The air between them felt charged, heavier, though nothing more than their hands had changed. Alhaitham, usually so composed and distant, was silent, his gaze now focused entirely on the point where their skin touched.
It wasn’t hurried—nothing between them ever was. It was quiet, intentional, almost hesitant. Kaveh shifted slightly, turning towards Alhaitham, their hands still intertwined between them. His thumb traced a light path over Alhaitham’s knuckles, and the movement was enough to pull a shaky exhale from the other man.
“Is this…” Kaveh started, but his voice was soft, uncertain in a way it rarely was around Alhaitham. “Is this okay?”
Alhaitham’s gaze lifted, meeting Kaveh’s eyes with an intensity that made the space between them feel smaller than it really was. He nodded, unable to speak at first, but his hand gripped Kaveh’s more firmly. His breath came just a little quicker now, his expression softer than Kaveh had ever seen. “More than okay,” Alhaitham murmured, barely audible.
And then, Kaveh leaned forward, closing the gap between them. The kiss started gently, tentative. Kaveh’s lips brushed Alhaitham’s like a question, and when Alhaitham answered by leaning in further, their mouths pressed together more fully. It was unhurried, soft, and quiet—much like the way their fingers had found each other.
Kaveh’s other hand found its way to Alhaitham’s cheek, holding him as if afraid to startle him away. Alhaitham responded by pulling Kaveh closer, still careful, almost reverent, as if he were trying to memorize every second of this moment. His book had long since slipped from his lap, forgotten entirely.
It wasn’t rushed, just a slow, unspoken conversation in the form of kisses, their lips moving together like they had all the time in the world. Kaveh’s heart thrummed, but it wasn’t nervous—it was calm, steady, the kind of contentment he hadn’t realized he was missing. And the way Alhaitham kissed him back—steady but with an underlying hunger—made Kaveh’s head spin in the best way.
They kissed for what felt like an eternity. The world around them, the distant Akademiya, even the fading sunlight, seemed to blur at the edges. There was only the warmth of Alhaitham’s lips, the weight of his hand on Kaveh’s, and the soft hum of approval that escaped him when Kaveh deepened the kiss ever so slightly.
When they finally pulled back, neither of them rushed to speak. They were close enough that their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the evening. Alhaitham’s cheeks were flushed, his usual stoic expression entirely gone, replaced with something tender and vulnerable.
Kaveh couldn’t help but chuckle softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Alhaitham’s forehead. “You know,” he teased, though his voice was soft, “you’re not as cool as you pretend to be.”
Alhaitham scoffed lightly but didn’t pull away, his lips twitching in the faintest of smiles. “And you’re not as insufferable as you pretend to be.”
Kaveh laughed, though it was soft, filled with affection. His thumb traced a gentle line along Alhaitham’s jaw, marveling at the fact that this—they—was real. “Guess we’re both liars, then.”
“Only sometimes,” Alhaitham murmured, his voice low and impossibly fond as he leaned in for another kiss.
As their foreheads rested together, breaths still mingling from the kiss, the soft rustling of leaves was suddenly broken by the sound of sharp footsteps on the path nearby. Kaveh didn’t pay it any mind at first, too wrapped up in the warmth of Alhaitham’s touch. But then a low, gravelly voice cut through the tender moment like a blade.
“Ahem. The Akademiya is not a place for such foolish activities.”
Both Kaveh and Alhaitham snapped apart, startled, as they turned to face the source of the interruption. Striding past them, cane tapping rhythmically against the stone walkway, was none other than Professor Farhad—an older, notoriously cranky scholar whose lectures on classical literature were the bane of every student’s existence. His thick, bushy eyebrows were furrowed in disdain as he glared at them from beneath his scholar’s cap, eyes narrowing in disapproval.
Kaveh flushed crimson, scrambling to straighten up and pretend as though they hadn’t just been caught kissing in the gardens. “Professor Farhad! We were just—uh—discussing architecture!”
Alhaitham, on the other hand, looked entirely unbothered, his expression returning to its usual stoic neutrality. He barely inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Professor.”
The old professor huffed, his mustache twitching as he fixed them both with a stern look. “Architecture, is it? Last I checked, architecture didn’t involve such—” he waved a hand, “—indecorous behavior in broad daylight! The Razan Gardens are for study and reflection, not… this.”
Kaveh could feel the heat crawling up his neck, mortified. He was about to launch into an apology, but Alhaitham, in typical fashion, spoke first, his voice as calm as ever. “Noted, Professor. We’ll keep our reflections… quieter next time.”
Professor Farhad’s frown deepened, clearly unimpressed by the nonchalant response. He muttered something under his breath about “youth these days” and “disrespecting sacred traditions” before continuing on his way, his cane clacking loudly against the path as he disappeared around a bend.
Once the professor was out of earshot, Kaveh groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Of all the people who could’ve walked by, it had to be him.”
Alhaitham, for his part, simply shrugged, though there was the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. “At least he didn’t give us detention.”
Kaveh peeked through his fingers, a reluctant grin forming despite himself. “Don’t joke about that! He’ll probably lecture the entire faculty about how we’re tarnishing the Akademiya’s reputation now.”
“Well, it is an institution of higher learning,” Alhaitham said, leaning closer again, his voice teasingly low, “but even scholars need breaks from time to time.”
Kaveh rolled his eyes, though his smile stayed. “Breaks, sure. But next time, let’s make sure cranky old Farhad isn’t around.” Then, without thinking, he added softly, “Not that I mind… you know, us.”
Alhaitham’s eyes softened at that, his hand once again finding its way to Kaveh’s. “Neither do I.”