Thread by @kahlidump_

#haikaveh
Alhaitham doesn’t have his keys. This has never happened before.

There are rare occurrences where Kaveh would be earlier to rise and leave their home. That morning happens to be one of them, and while Alhaitham’s managed to get a glimpse of the blond rushing out with

Mehrak in tow, a half-worn shoe that he attempts to secure on his foot whilst hopping on one leg, perhaps Alhaitham should have taken notice of how Kaveh blindly grabs his key from the small dish on the table by door, and how his fancy keychain’s hooked Alhaitham’s key, taking it

with him. The realization has Alhaitham sighing when he finds the dish completely empty. He walks to the Akademiya already thinking about the hassle of hunting Kaveh down when it’s time to go home. It’s not that he doesn’t know where to find his roommate, it’s just that there are

plenty of places he could be by end of day, depending on his schedule and his mood.

Luckily, he doesn’t even have to step out of the Akademiya to find where Kaveh is. As soon as he enters the House of Daena, he hears the man’s voice and follows it to one section of the library

where he’s surrounded by a bunch of Ksharewar scholars and students seeking advice.

Alhaitham doesn’t need to announce his arrival, for as soon as someone in the group’s spotted him, there’s a collective turn of heads including Kaveh’s. He hasn’t done anything yet, but the

architect is already frowning and crossing his arms.

“Can I help you with something, sir scribe?”

How easy would it have been if Alhaitham could just open his mouth and demand for his keys. However, as uncaring as his senior claims him to be, he actually does respect the man’s

request to keep their living arrangements a secret.

His decision to let the traveler know about rooming with Kaveh was not just on a whim, but a lot of thought has been put into it as he figures that the traveler is someone that Kaveh might need in the future, perhaps someone he

can trust if Alhaitham’s too indisposed to hurry by the blond’s side if he suddenly needs him.

In addition, as dismissive as Kaveh looks at that moment, Alhaitham could see how tense he is, for fear of that very secret being exposed. So instead of opening his mouth to speak,

the scribe simply raises a hand and a waiting palm, hoping for Kaveh to understand what he’s trying to ask for.

But the Light of Ksharewar merely blinks in confusion, and as Alhaitham shakes his upturned palm in a silent command to hurry up and figure it out, Kaveh reaches for

his purse and drops a few mora like Alhaitham’s asking for some lunch money.

“That’s all I have.” Kaveh says. He looks genuinely worried, both at Alhaitham seemingly forgetting his own wallet and at him being unable to provide him with more.

Unimpressed, Alhaitham returns the mora and repeats his gesture with a shake of his head. Unfortunately, Kaveh still fails to understand what he’s trying to say, and the confused look on his face is now mirrored by the scholars surrounding them, asking each other

discreetly (and failing) if the scribe is now into a game of charades.

Perhaps running out of ideas, Kaveh moves on impulse and puts his hand on Alhaitham’s palm. Tired of this nonsense, he then grabs the hand that has so willingly held him and pulls Kaveh close, his lips right

on the blond’s ear. Kaveh yelps and his voice echoes against the walls of the library.

“You took my keys.” He whispers, low and in that ancient desert language only he and Kaveh know, for good measure. Alhaitham’s not too excited to be lectured back home for being careless

about their living arrangement. He feels the blond tense up, whether from the hot breath from his mouth tickling his ear, the sudden proximity, or the risk of his secret being exposed, Alhaitham would never know nor does he ever really wonder about it.

“R-right pocket.” Kaveh stammers, replying in the same language in the same hushed voice, and the scholars have half a mind to pretend reading their scrolls and textbooks as Alhaitham fishes out the key.

He makes sure to have it enveloped in his palm before pulling out his

hand, hiding the thing from the others’ eyes.

“Thanks. Don’t be late for dinner.” He says and promptly pats Kaveh on the head just because he could, then he walks away as if nothing weird has happened.

Nothing at all.

(He’s just a few steps shy from reaching the exit when he finally hears Kaveh who has blessedly recovered from the little stunt he’s pulled

“Alhaitham you jerk!”)

-end-

the scholars: