Alhaitham must not think of it.
It's early morning—too early for Kaveh to be awake but he shuffles about nonetheless, pouring himself a cup of coffee on muscle memory alone. Sunlight filters in through the window, golden like the fresh day. Kaveh knows that dew lines the petals of plants outside, damp as petals unfurl.
He wishes he was like those petals, handsome even in his tiredness. Instead, he is a mess, shadows etched deeply under his eyes, shoulders hunched as he leans over the counter. He shifts, trying to work out a kink in his lower back burnt into his spine from too many late hours at his drafting table.
Alhaitham is fully dressed, clean-shaven, and smelling like sandalwood and pine. Early day at the office, as it were. Kaveh sneers at the sight of him because he can't help it. Alhaitham blinks black slowly—and that's enough to see the sleepiness. Kaveh smirks at the sight. Alhaitham isn't so effortless in the mornings, it seems.
And then Alhaitham leans over and kisses his cheek, the sharp scent of his soap cutting right through Kaveh. "I'm going to work," mumbles Alhaitham. His breath is warm, fluttering against Kaveh's cheek, caressing it. "I'll see you later."
"I—"
Alhaitham pulls away and thinks nothing of it, leans over, takes a sip of Kaveh's untouched coffee, and then shoulders his bag before slipping out the front door. It clicks shut in the frame, leaving the room quiet and sleepy in the early hours.
Kaveh is caught in the kitchen, feet rooted to the spot. Heat creeps up his spine. His cheek burns, it sears still, the touch of Alhaitham's lips lingering as if tattooed into his skin. His knuckles brush the hollow of his face, over and over, retracing those seconds.
"Are we—"
That is the sort of thing that lovers do, not roommates with benefits. And Kaveh is no fool. He's well aware that they've both caught feelings but if there's one thing the both of them are insufferably good at it's pretending they don't exist.
Being in love is a pesky thing. Kaveh considers his heart scarred and embittered even if there are moments when it blooms again, just like those flowers in the garden outside. Alhaitham sprinkles a little sunshine here and there but he must not realize it. The kiss on the cheek, the mumbled goodbye—they've been growing closer despite the distance they try to maintain. It must have been instinctual.
"Is this dating?" murmurs Kaveh. It is stupid to speak aloud with only the gods to hear but it offers a small comfort. The moment he says it, the more it feels right. "This is… we've been dating, haven't we? This entire damn time we've—"
A shaky laugh. Kaveh stares at his mug and the disrupted dairy foam from when Alhaitham took a sip. Too sweet and frothy for his taste. Alhaitham only drinks his brew black, and yet. Kaveh curls his fingers around the handle of the mug and imagines it's still warm from Alhaitham's hand.
"Gods, we're idiots, aren't we? That's the gist of it. Ever since the beginning, we've been the stupidest men alive."
Kaveh drinks his coffee quietly and wonders if it actually tastes sweeter.
#
Later, Kaveh doesn't mention it, not even when folded into their—Alhaitham's—-bed sheets.
It's comfortable. Alhaitham hums softly, half-dozing, plastered against Kaveh's back with an arm around his waist.
Dating. They've been dating. Fuck buddies don't—
Kaveh drags a hand down his face. It's too late to be worried over such trivial things. Alhaitham doesn't care so Kaveh shouldn't. But he does. The label digs into his skin, into his veins, nestling into his nerves to set them alike. Kaveh's heart beats faster, thinking about how this sort of shared domesticity is what most strive for and it's been hidden under their noses this entire time.
"Kaveh." Alhaitham murmurs his name into Kaveh's neck, voice thick with sleep. The hand around his waist shifts, pressing flat against the soft skin underneath his navel.
Kaveh would be stupid enough to wear only one of Alhaitham's shirts and nothing else. "Needy, even in your damn sleep," he sighs.
Alhaitham chuckles—at least a sound somewhat like it—and rolls his half-hard cock against his ass. "'M not asking for anything." A pause. His nose buries into the back of Kaveh's nape and he inhales. "You smell good."
Kaveh does not. Kaveh barely showered before slipping into the sheets. He probably smells stale and like the old coffee he spilled across his desk in his tiredness. When Alhaitham says it though, soft and throaty, humming softly as his brain is still catching up, Kaveh believes it.
It comes as no surprise that Alhaitham's fingers dip lower to trail over his cock. It twitches to life, caught underneath Alhaitham's spell. Not because of feelings, but rather those wicked fingertips, and the way that Alhaitham knows just how to touch him.
"I'm too tired to fuck."
"We don't have to fuck." And yet, Alhaitham's fingers trace Kaveh's length over and over again. "I just enjoy touching you. I'll stop, just tell me."
"I…" Kaveh swallows. He'd rather not. His cock already leaks at the tip, heat flaring through his gut. Usually, his need is omnipresent and overbearing. Usually, Kaveh begs to be fucked into the beg until he can't form thoughts. But Alhaitham is right—these soft, exploratory touches are divine.
Kaveh raises his hips and Alhaitham chuckles again. "Annoying." Kaveh can't help but bite the word out. "You're so—Ah."
Alhaitham palms at his cock, resting it in his hand. Still strokes the length with his thumb before spreading around the precome with a teasing swipe at the crown. It lacks his usual tart, cruel touch—though Kaveh supposes that's how this has gone lately.
"Like this," says Alhaitham then, parting Kaveh's legs to slip his cock between his thighs. Kaveh tries to clamp his thighs tight, prompting Alhiatham to continue. "You don't need to do that. Feels good, I swear." A sigh as he thrusts gently. "Yeah."
Alhaitham leans forward then, nosing along Kaveh's jaw. A kiss to his cheek, sweet and lingering, just like earlier that morning only this time it's punctuated with the slick fucking of his thighs. Alhaitham moans quietly. He never makes noise. They only bicker in bed.
Except for lately.
Kaveh's been so fucking blind. It's clear as day in the way that Alhaitham clings to him, rutting between his legs, stroking his cock, kissing along the ridge of his jaw.
"Kaveh." A soft murmur steeped in feelings, in like, in—
Love, isn't the word that Kaveh should think of but he does. He's written it down enough times in his journals, and he's murmured into his pillows, muffling the damn word so only he will know.
He doesn't need to. The word is on the tip of his tongue, ready to fly free. Tell me this means something, he wants to ask. Alhaitham, tell me that I'm not alone in this.
Kaveh isn't. He cannot be, not with the shared bed sheets, the lazy morning kisses, and the way that Alhaitham sips at Kaveh's coffee and steals bites from his plates. The hugs and casual kisses and hands against smalls of backs, stoking low-burning embers Kaveh didn't know were still alight.
"Haitham," he says, burying his face into the pillow. Smells like Alhaitham. "Haitham."
"That's it," replies Alhaitham. He touches his cock slowly with languid movements that draw Kaveh's end to the surface with a slow drag. It's hazy. Kaveh floats in the sheets as the pressure builds. He ruts forward, thrusting against Alhaitham's palm. Moans at the way Alhaitham's cock nudges his perineum.
Alhaitham was right. They don't need more than this. This moment is wonderful as they rock together, those walls broken down if only for a moment.
"I'm going to work," said Alhaitham that morning like a husband would to his pattern. "I'll see you later."
Kaveh wonders if Alhaitham really sees what feelings lurk in his bones. A hiss. The slick slap of wet skin despite the lazy, slow grounding. Alhaitham still kisses him, mouthing at every inch of exposed skin his lips can find. He doesn't mark him. There are no bites, no purpling things left in his wake, just kiss after kiss after kiss.
They come like that, quiet and needy. Kaveh spills into his hand, and Alhaitham between his thighs. Soft, aborted thrusts as he rides out that high nestled between Kaveh's plush thighs.
And, if Kaveh didn't know any better, Alhaitham is more alert and thinking. There's something on the tip of his tongue in the exact same way, and Kaveh braces himself.
But, as always, nothing comes. That is how they play this game, a never-ending stalemate as their pleasure comes to a draw.
"You said goodbye this morning," says Kaveh finally when his heart is beating a normal rhythm once again.
Alhaitham hums. Kisses the back of his neck. Hides his face there as he articulates his answer. Kaveh expects a grandiose excuse meant to tailor the moment to his favor. Instead, he says, "Did you not like it?"
Oh. Kaveh swallows thickly, his heart back in his throat and working overtime. No, no, he loved it. Celestia knows it's the sort of thing he longs to wake up to every morning for the rest of his life.
Instead, he says, "It was tolerable."
Which makes Alhaitham smile against his skin.