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Kaveh’s giving him the silent treatment.
Correction: Kaveh is succeeding at giving him the silent treatment.
Many have been the times where he’s attempted to give Alhaitham a taste of his own medicine, remaining stubbornly quiet but being given away by the tiny glances he’d send his way. But no time has he actually committed to it for longer than seventeen minutes and twenty-three seconds — Alhaitham counted.
Until now.
Which means that Alhaitham, reasonably so, is disturbed.
It’s not that Kaveh’s incapable of silence. On the contrary, though he may resemble a dusk bird in flight with the whirlwinds he creates in every room he enters, Kaveh can often turn to silence when plagued by struggles or when engrossed with his work. Though there’s also an alternative; the aforementioned scenarios can lead to Alhaitham listening to Kaveh talking to himself, too, and Alhaitham is never quite sure which one he’s getting.
Such is Kaveh. Contradicting and puzzling.
Stubborn, he thinks from his place on the divan as he listens to the clatter of utensils and bowls against the sink where Kaveh’s washing them. It goes on for another minute until the faucet turns off, and then… silence.
Alhaitham can envision it clearly: Kaveh with his hands braced against the sink, staring at the last few droplets of water with that endearing upset turn in his lips that he insists isn’t a pout as he thinks of whatever Alhaitham has done to earn his ire this time. In fact, he half expects Kaveh to break then and there. To come into the living room with flushed cheeks and a rag in his hand as he bursts into sound and Alhaitham is left wondering if the rag is purely for dramatics or if it’s going to be thrown at his face.
What he actually gets is much different.
There’s another clatter, a different one that Alhaitham recognizes as Kaveh gathering his materials in his hands. He emerges from the kitchen without sparing as much as a glance at him, chin tilted up stubbornly and steps perfectly graceful, if not brisk, even as one of his pens rolls down and falls on the floor.
“You dropped your—“ he doesn’t need to finish as Kaveh swoops down to snatch the pen and goes on his merry way. He doesn’t go to his room like Alhaitham expects, however. No, his steps halt to a stop in the hall as if his system is rebooting and he turns on his heel towards their shared study.
Hm. Well, that certainly complicates things.
It would be easier if he’d gone to his room, he thinks. At least then Alhaitham would have the illusion of thinking that he’s not being ignored and instead it’s a regular evening where Kaveh’s commissions demand his full attention instead. But no, Kaveh chose the spot where he’d still remain in Alhaitham’s line of sight. Taunting him with silence the whole evening, if he can even hold out that long. Which, Alhaitham thinks with growing dread, seems to be what he’s in for.
Fine. Two can play that game. Alhaitham slips into the study to retrieve another book, stealing a glance from the corner of his eye towards a laser-focused Kaveh twirling a strand of blond hair along his finger as he scribbles down something on his notepad. And Alhaitham, perhaps a little childishly, thinks it should be him running his fingers through Kaveh’s hair right now.
Difficult, he adds to the list.
He gets his book, a hefty one, and decides that if they’re going to be here all afternoon, he may as well make himself comfortable with a long read.
Truthfully, Alhaitham’s not sure how they got here. He supposes it would be reasonable to assume that it started yesterday. He’d been sitting on a similar spot when Kaveh turned his keys into the lock and walked in with weary lines of tension in his shoulders and complaints on his lips. Listening to him after he returns from meetings with troublesome clients has always felt akin to watching floodgates open. He’s never minded listening to them, but one thing led to another and Kaveh, in the midst of a detailed recounting, had nearly tripped on some books Alhaitham had left out the week prior.
The result of that? They’d revived their old song and dance — Kaveh raked a hand across his face and reminded him to put them away if he wasn’t going to read them, to which Alhaitham responded that a steady stack of books posed no risk of catastrophe unless you’re exceedingly clumsy. In short, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Kaveh had retreated into his room without another word and—
Here they are.
Aside from quick bathroom breaks, Kaveh doesn’t budge from his spot at all – nor does he open his mouth outside of the occasional mutter as he works on a commission. Likely the very same one he’d been complaining about yesterday, if he had to guess.
Alhaitham resolves to wait until he’s ready to speak to him. It continues until the sun is setting outside and Alhaitham has grown frustrated with none of the words printed on the pages registering in his mind.
So for the first time, it’s him who breaks the silence.
“Do you want dinner?” he calls out, arms crossed as he leans against the threshold separating the living room from the study. Nothing. The sound of chalk against paper continues, steady and unyielding. His fingers curl tighter against the pages of his book. “Kaveh.”
He steps in further. “You haven’t eaten in a few hours. What do you want for dinner?” Nothing. Hm. Well, he supposes he should try the other trick he has up his sleeve.
Standing in front of the desk, he splays a hand over the wood and leans forward until his body casts a shadow over Kaveh’s blueprint. Kaveh freezes, and Alhaitham seizes the opportunity to lightly cup his jaw. “Don’t be like that,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along Kaveh’s chin until the pad of his finger is ghosting over his bottom lip. It parts, predictably. Kaveh’s eyes widen a fraction, hand still gripping his chalk as he blinks and a lovely dark flush starts spreading across his face. For a second, Alhaitham thinks this might be the end of the wretched silent treatment.
Kaveh turns his head away as if the touch has burned him, which is impossible unless Alhaitham acquired a Pyro Vision without his knowledge. Silence wraps around them once more. Kaveh’s shoulders are hunched now, almost up to his ears, and his movements across the paper look more stilted than before. Alhaitham stares at him.
And stares at him some more.
“Are you just going to stand there all night?” Kaveh finally snaps.
“If necessary, yes,” Alhaitham replies without missing a beat. Relief seeps into his bones at finally hearing the voice that he’d missed so much. He repeats, “what do you want for dinner?”
Kaveh rolls his eyes. “Oh, now you’re concerned about my input, are you? How can I be sure you won’t just decide for both of us regardless?”
Alhaitham feels a dull pang in his chest. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant that response.”
“That right there is the problem.” He huffs, already turning back to his work.
“You can’t expect me to read your mind, Kaveh.”
Kaveh sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose for so long that Alhaitham worries he’s developed a migraine. “I know you find it amusing to poke fun at me, but sometimes I’m really not in the mood, Alhaitham.”
“I wouldn’t call any of what I just said poking fun at you,” Alhaitham defends.
“I didn’t mean right now, I meant— before. Yesterday. When I got home. Alhaitham, I told you to put those books away if you weren’t going to read them.”
“Why do it if you’re just going to go back and re-sort them yourself?”
Kaveh sags against the chair and sighs heavily, fixing Alhaitham with a nasty glare. “You can’t actually be serious.”
“I was under the impression that you doing many of the household chores was part of our arrangement.”
“Yeah, but that was before…this happened,” he mumbles, gesturing between the two of them.
“This being?” Alhaitham asks, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. Only a little.
“You know what!” Kaveh exclaims. He’s blushing again and the sight is terribly endearing. “Look… I do more work than you, okay? You know that, I know that. You bug me about it all the time. And sometimes,” he purses his lips, as if unsure which words to string together. “I don’t know! Sometimes I just want a little more.”
Alhaitham’s throat feels dry, suddenly. His fingers are itching to smooth the frown from Kaveh’s face. “What do you mean?”
Kaveh pushes the chair back and stands up to begin pacing around the room. “I just— you know how much my clients can get under my skin. Sometimes all I want is to forget I ever saw them and come home without having to repeat the same thing over and over again to you. Is wanting to relax really such a crime?”
“Most days you do anything but that,” Alhaitham points out.
“Oh, I wonder why.” Kaveh scoffs. “That’s not even the point, anyway.”
“Then…?”
Kaveh exhales, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling, exasperated. “The point is that I never know which side of you I’m getting.” He gestures grandly towards the desk. “One day you replace our old desk with that without me asking it of you and the next…”
Alhaitham curls his lip defensively. “That desk was a disaster waiting to happen. Buying a new one was the preferable option to spare us the trouble before it inevitably toppled over and ruined your blueprints.”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Kaveh throws his hands up. “You can be so sweet when you want to be! I could’ve repaired it no problem and it would’ve been good as new, but you still—“ he buries his head in his hands. “That was really nice of you, Haitham. And sometimes I wish you’d extend that thoughtfulness to other things.”
“With how particular you are about these things I figured I was sparing us the trouble of going through the same process twice.”
Kaveh raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “There’s no us if I’m the one doing it while you stand there and watch.”
“Would you even allow me to help? You seem to think my methods are incorrect, need I remind you. But if you’d like to discuss our chores distribution, we could go do that right now.”
“It’s not the chores I have a problem with,” Kaveh assures, softer now. “Really, you’d know if I actually had a problem with them. My issue is with how…selective you can be about the things I ask of you.”
When Alhaitham stays silent, “You want to know why I get so frustrated when it comes to this?” Kaveh asks. “It’s because I know you’re more than capable of doing it right. You take care of the house just fine whenever I leave for my projects. For three weeks that one time, even! Imagine that miracle! Which is how I know you only do it to spite me.”
Alhaitham swallows. “Where are you going with this?” He asks carefully, keeping his voice non-confrontational lest he want to upset him further.
“I need you to take me seriously when it matters,” Kaveh replies in a matching tone, and Alhaitham realizes with something akin to panic that his eyes are close to glistening.
“I do,” he insists, unable to fully mask the hurt.
Kaveh, finally, takes a step forward. Something in him seems to soften. “Not all the time,” he laughs humorlessly, a quiet puff that’s deafening to Alhaitham’s ears. “It was different in the beginning. Paying rent, doing most of the chores, it—“ his mouth scrunches up. “I didn’t mind it. I like sprucing this place up a little, I… what? What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing. It’s just laughable how you consider those efforts minimal.”
Kaveh rolls his eyes. “Someone needs to save this place from your godawful decor,” he says.
“Why do you say it was different before?” Alhaitham pushes.
“Just like…” he makes a vague gesture with his hand. “in general. It felt more like paying off a debt back then. Contrary to what you may think, I am grateful that you’ve let me stay here.”
Alhaitham’s aware of the guilt that’s plagued Kaveh over the course of living together. He’d seen it that very first night when he’d told him to wait in the living room while he retrieved his spare key. The uncertainty as Alhaitham offered it to him, looking at him as if expecting it all to be some grand joke. A testament to how little they knew these new versions of each other.
A lot has happened since that day, and yet, he finds himself returning to the same script. The words fall from his lips automatically. “The house is just as much yours as it is mine.”
Like clockwork, “Not legally.” Kaveh sighs.
A beat of silence follows — thick and heavy as Alhaitham tries to find the right words. “And how do you expect me to know the difference?”
Kaveh’s brows knit. “What?”
“As many favors as the Dendro Archon has bestowed upon me, the ability to read minds is not among them,” Alhaitham explains wryly, an attempt at levity that doesn’t work if Kaveh’s stillness is anything to go by.
“I never asked you to read my mind, I’m asking you to listen for once in your life.”
“You’re asking me to understand cues you don’t always give.”
Kaveh’s defensiveness wavers. “You’re making me sound so cryptic.”
“You spent the entire day giving me the silent treatment with no indication of why,” Alhaitham points out.
“Oh, so it’s only an issue when I do it, is it?”
Well, that’s fair. “I deserved that,” Alhaitham accepts easily. “I’m only explaining that you have a tendency to get vague when you’re upset.”
“And I suppose speaking in circles is a better alternative?” Kaveh says. “I’m trying to find the right words here, okay? Forgive me if not all of us graduated from Haravatat.”
Alhaitham watches as Kaveh’s eyes dip the floor, hands trembling at his sides before he resolves to wave them around. “The teasing isn’t the problem. Gods know I’ve given you enough material to last a lifetime.”
“You have,” Alhaitham says unhelpfully. It gets him a glare, but it doesn’t have as much bite as before. He’d dare call it a win – if there’s even such a thing when it comes to Kaveh.
“I don’t do all this to be a nag, you know. All I want is for you to recognize when it feels like I’m not in on the joke anymore.”
“Then tell me. Or is there something else you’re holding back?”
Kaveh hesitates, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “None of this is technically mine.” He stops, his eyes falling on the paintings on the wall and the materials on the desk. “Well, I suppose some of it is, but…sometimes I worry that if I push you too much or ask too much of you you’ll… tell me to leave.”
“You’ve never seemed to have an issue with that.”
“That’s why I said sometimes.”
Alhaitham joins him in looking around, his gaze lingering on all the corners Kaveh’s masterful touch is present. “For what it’s worth, this place would likely fall apart without you.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Kaveh finally laughs, a lopsided grin stretching across his face that warms Alhaitham’s chest. “You may enjoy being difficult, but you’d be just fine without me.”
“Hm, the use of the word fine implies room for improvement.”
“Your point being?”
Alhaitham shrugs. “You should know I care little for ‘fine’.” He scans Kaveh’s face with quiet certainty. “I happen to find this stage of my life quite pleasant.”
Kaveh blinks, and just like that the deep flush is back. “You’re unbelievable.”
Alhaitham breaks into a smile. “So I’ve heard.”
“…I’m still upset with you.”
“I expected nothing less.” His voice drops, careful yet fond. “Would dinner at Lambad’s suffice?”
Luckily for him, Kaveh isn’t particularly good at holding grudges. “It’s a good start.” He tilts his chin up, giving Alhaitham a perfect view of carmine eyes – now alight with fiery conviction. “I get to choose the wine.”
“I thought that was a given.”
“I may have a glass or two, and I don’t want to hear a word from you about it.”
Alhaitham huffs a laugh. “I can’t promise anything.”
Kaveh stares at him for a moment longer, keeping up the faux-confident act until eventually he looks down at himself and mutters, “I can’t go out like this.”
Frankly, Alhaitham thinks he looks just fine, but he won’t risk the possibility of delaying their outing for extended disagreements that can wait until later.
“I’ll be waiting.”
“I’ll probably take a bit…” Kaveh begins to step away, Alhaitham closely behind, watching him take in the stack of books next to the divan. “And those books won’t be putting themselves away.”
Alhaitham nods. “On it.”
Kaveh huffs, shaking his head fondly. He doesn’t say anything, but the little smile he’s trying to bite back as he disappears down the hall says it all.