Chapter Text
Alhaitham looks up from his book, watching as Kaveh slinks through the front door of the house and eases it shut. He’s not certain why Kaveh is trying to be stealthy, when Alhaitham can clearly see from his spot on the couch that Kaveh is home—but, well, Kaveh isn’t always the most rational person.
“Welcome back,” Alhaitham says, returning his attention to the page in front of him. “If you’re trying to be surreptitious, you should try sneaking through a window next time.”
Kaveh huffs. “That’s not—urgh.” From his periphery, Alhaitham can see Kaveh take halting steps toward the coffee table. He seems abnormally hesitant; usually when he has something to say, he’ll storm right up to Alhaitham and say it. “I…”
Alhaitham lowers his book, keeping his hand on the page to mark his place. “Yes?”
He doesn’t bother trying to guess what Kaveh might say. It could be literally anything. Perhaps he’s taken on some new debt, or joined the Zubayr Theatre troupe, or promised to foster five stray kittens. While Kaveh’s errors in judgment tend to follow the same theme, he often finds new and surprising ways to be imprudent.
Kaveh rubs his neck and glances away. He’s clearly anxious. Not because of his scent—which is practically nonexistent aside from faint smells like soap or alcohol, since he’s a beta—but because of how he fidgets and avoids Alhaitham’s eyes. Even when Kaveh is angry or depressed, he never acts like this.
Alhaitham waits. If it’s important, then Kaveh will eventually spit it out, or Alhaitham will find out on his own when the issue blows up in Kaveh’s face. (Such as when Kaveh amassed a massive debt from building the Palace of Alcazarzaray and ended up bankrupt and homeless.) And if it’s not important, then it doesn’t affect Alhaitham one way or another. Either Kaveh will speak up, or he’ll hole up in his room for a few hours to brood about it.
If it’s the second option, though, Alhaitham should probably plan on cooking their dinner by himself, and maybe uncork a bottle of Kaveh’s favorite wine while he’s at it. And if Kaveh is severely distressed, Alhaitham might need to brew some chamomile tea and retrieve a heavy blanket from the closet. Otherwise, left to his own devices, Kaveh will work himself into a panic.
Alhaitham has never quite been able to justify why he does favors for Kaveh whenever he’s upset, but he sees no reason to resist the compulsion, since it’s mutually beneficial: Kaveh ultimately cheers up, and Alhaitham is able to relax once Kaveh’s mood improves. He tells himself it’s because the alternative is dealing with a moody roommate, which would be far more arduous—although, really, Kaveh is rather temperamental in general, so it doesn’t make much difference.
The truth is probably much less convenient. It’s likely a result of Alhaitham’s biological instincts, or worse, a result of genuine affection for a man who can’t stand him. And while both explanations are incredibly reasonable, Alhaitham would prefer not to consider them.
“I went to the hospital today,” Kaveh finally says.
Alhaitham sits up instantly, setting his book aside without marking what page he’s on. Unease prickles the hairs at his nape, and he can smell his own scent sharpening in the air.
That has always been one of the things he hates about his biology: the fact that a few measly glands make his feelings so transparent. He forgoes blockers only because he doesn’t want to deal with the medical hassle, and because his alpha scent conveniently intimidates people who would otherwise harass him. And normally his scent doesn’t betray much, since he tends to be unbothered—but everything is different when it comes to Kaveh. Everything has always been different with him.
On the bright side, Kaveh is a beta, so he doesn’t have a strong sense of smell. Unlike alphas and omegas, he has no way of knowing that Alhaitham is constantly concerned about him.
After a few moments, Kaveh still hasn’t said anything, so Alhaitham takes it upon himself to ask. “Are you ill?”
“No.” Kaveh’s nose wrinkles. “No, I’m—well, I have an issue that needs to be resolved, but it’s not an illness, and I’m not injured, so you don’t need to be so worried.”
“Do I sound worried?” Alhaitham asks, doing his best to sound unaffected.
“No, but you—” Kaveh presses his lips together and looks away. “I can smell you. You got anxious the moment I mentioned the Bimarstan.”
That…isn’t right. Or rather, it conflicts with Alhaitham’s current understanding of things, which means that somewhere in his chain of reasoning, something is wrong.
Betas can’t smell pheromones, which includes Alhaitham’s scent right now. But Kaveh is saying that he can smell that, so unless he’s bluffing—
“I wasn’t aware that betas had such a strong sense of smell,” Alhaitham says.
“They don’t,” Kaveh says, his voice small.
Ah. So Kaveh isn’t actually a beta, then.
Alhaitham supposes he should be more surprised, but after years of dealing with Kaveh’s spontaneity, this doesn’t feel much different from being told that Kaveh brought home five Rishboland tiger cubs.
“I assume you didn’t just present,” Alhaitham says. At his and Kaveh’s ages, that would be a medical marvel. The Bimarstan probably wouldn’t have let Kaveh come home until after at least a week of observation.
“No.” Kaveh clears his throat. He’s relaxed slightly, though his forehead is still creased with concern. “I’ve mentioned that I’ve been having neck pain and headaches and such, haven’t I?”
“Frequently.” Alhaitham had assumed that was due to a poor sleep schedule and even worse posture, and had tried to counsel Kaveh in those regards—but it seems that wasn’t the actual source of the issues. “The doctors identified a cause?”
“Yes, fortunately. My glands started reacting badly to the type of scent blocker I’m using, so I’ll need to cease usage and treat those symptoms before finding a new kind of blocker.” Kaveh’s mouth twists in distaste. “If there’s even a kind that will work for me. They aren’t certain.”
Alhaitham exhales heavily. That news is far more benign than what he’d expected at the mention of the Bimarstan. Leave it to Kaveh to overdramatize a simple medical situation. “Alright. So I’ll smell you now? That’s your announcement?” He reaches for his book again. “I appreciate the update, although it doesn’t affect me much either way. I hope your condition resolves—”
“No,” Kaveh says. “No, Alhaitham, I—I have to go off the suppressants I’ve been using, too. At least temporarily.”
“What?” Alhaitham says. “Why? Did they tell you that suppressants can’t be taken continuously? If so, that’s a medical myth—or at least, it only applies to obsolete medications. Whatever you’re taking shouldn’t have that issue.”
“I’m aware,” Kaveh says, bristling. “It’s actually more complicated than that, or else I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you. My suppressants also affect my glands, which means that they’ll interfere with the medicine I need to take. I’ll have to postpone taking them until my condition is treated.” He folds his arms and pouts at the bookcase beside Alhaitham. “So, no, it’s not just you’ll be able to smell me now.”
Admittedly, that does change things somewhat, since it means that Kaveh will probably end up going into heat or rut. Alhaitham is bound to have some sort of biological reaction to Kaveh’s pheromones, too—and while Alhaitham has never bothered to medically suppress his instincts, that doesn’t mean he likes them. He’s not too pleased about this disruption to his routine.
“I currently can’t smell you,” Alhaitham notes. “You’re still using scent blockers, despite what the doctors told you?”
Kaveh winces. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
“We’ve talked. Go take them off.”
“I—I’m entitled to my privacy, you know!”
Archons, why must he be so stubborn? Is he really that sensitive about letting Alhaitham smell him? Alhaitham has no patience for Kaveh endangering his health like this. The gland issue is harmless now, but it could easily get worse if Kaveh doesn’t take action.
Alhaitham’s instincts yell at him to protect Kaveh somehow, except this isn’t a sword that he can intercept, or a giant scorpion that he can cut down. All he can do is urge Kaveh to actually take care of himself, which Kaveh has historically been terrible at doing.
Alhaitham grits his teeth and forces himself to remain seated. “Then you can go take off the scent blockers in private,” he says. “Don’t endanger your health just because you feel insecure about what you are.”
“That’s not—well, maybe I don’t like having people know what I am. Why else do you think I take suppressants?”
“Plenty of people take them for medical reasons, rather than frivolous personal ones.”
“Well, then I suppose my reasons are what you consider to be frivolous, but it’s my body. I have a right to personal comfort.”
“Alright. Then let’s get this over with. Which are you?”
“I—what!”
“This question should be easy for you,” Alhaitham says. “It’s not open-ended, and there’s a definitive answer. One I’m sure you know.”
“Asking so casually,” Kaveh mutters. He wets his lips, his eyes flitting to everything in the room except Alhaitham. “I…I don’t want to say.”
“Fine.” Alhaitham finally grabs his book and turns to a random page, pretending to pick up where he left off. “In that case, I’ll wait for you to take your scent blockers off, and then I’ll have my answer.”
“No! I—I’d rather tell you.”
Alhaitham sighs. “Then tell me.”
Still Kaveh hesitates. His cheeks darken, and he ducks his head as if he’s awaiting censure.
“I see,” Alhaitham says, feigning certainty. “So, omega, then.”
“What!” Kaveh whirls to face him, fists clenched at his sides. “Why are you so quick to assume that?”
Well, that reaction certainly makes Alhaitham feel more confident that it’s true. “Why are you so reluctant to tell me?”
“Because I don’t like the assumptions people make based on biology!” Kaveh snaps. “You know that! And I thought we were on the same page regarding that matter, if nothing else, but apparently not.”
Alhaitham considers. It’s true that he wouldn’t change his perception of Kaveh based on his biology, nor would he rely upon Kaveh’s personality to determine his designation—but still, Kaveh’s response is telling.
Clearly Kaveh is personally offended by the assumption that he’s an omega, or else he wouldn’t have instantly exploded with indignation. (During philosophical debates, it typically takes a few rounds of back-and-forth before he gets this heated.) Having known Kaveh for years—and having antagonized him throughout those years, sometimes on purpose—Alhaitham has a decent idea of what most offends Kaveh.
Kaveh detests the implication that he is inferior or unintelligent in any way, especially if Alhaitham is the one implying it. He often insists that he is the more successful and likeable between the two of them, which almost certainly stems from some sort of self-esteem issue. He also protests Alhaitham’s (admittedly petty) digs about his lack of physical strength, and insists that when he lets people walk all over him, he is merely being generous, not a desperate people-pleaser.
His insecurities align closely with societal assumptions about omegas. Omegas are expected to be weaker and more submissive, followers rather than leaders, protected rather than protectors. They’re meant to be gentle caretakers, and are supposedly averse to conflict.
And Kaveh is some of those things, but he doesn’t want to admit it. For instance, Kaveh is almost certainly physically weaker than Alhaitham, even if he has a decent amount of muscle, and he lacks a dominant personality that would allow him to say “no” to people. He also has an appreciation for domestic activities such as housekeeping and decorating, and if someone gets hurt, Kaveh mother-hens like no other.
Alhaitham sees nothing wrong with any of that, aside from the issues that arise from Kaveh’s doormat tendencies, but the majority of their society has a different opinion. While omega traits are patronizingly lauded as necessary, they’re ultimately still seen as inferior. Even more idiotic is that those traits are considered inescapable and immutable: every omega supposedly shares the same personality hallmarks, and if an exception arises, then there must be a psychological explanation for why that omega is suppressing their true nature.
It’s almost amusing, how so many scholars have crafted complex psychological theories to explain why people deviate from their instincts…rather than simply considering that perhaps societal assumptions about instincts are incorrect, and that a person’s personality has very little to do with their biological designation.
So, not only do societal beliefs denigrate the parts of Kaveh’s personality that seem omega-like, but they also dictate that Kaveh’s personality must be entirely that of an omega.
He couldn’t possibly be fit to be a leader, despite his status as an architectural innovator and the light of Kshahrewar. He’d be expected to act less passionate and temperamental—and if he did act that way, then people would assume he’s a weak-willed omega who lacks the mental strength to control his temper. And he wouldn’t be considered a serious conversation or debate partner, because supposedly omegas hate conflict, and therefore shouldn’t be involved in that sort of confrontation.
If Kaveh is an omega, then he faces a serious reputational and interpersonal risk if people discover that fact. His abilities will be doubted, and all of his worst insecurities will be affirmed.
Meanwhile, if he were an alpha, he’d only stand to gain. People would take him more seriously in an argument or a fight; they would excuse his temper as an alpha’s natural aggression; they would be much less likely to take advantage of him. And his domestic proclivities would easily be justified as him compensating for the lack of an omega in the household, or some other nonsense explanation.
Alhaitham sees no reason that Kaveh would be upset about being an alpha, but he sees plenty of reasons for Kaveh to be distressed about the opposite. Except—
“You’re correct,” Alhaitham says. “I don’t believe any of that nonsense. So why are you afraid to tell me?”
Kaveh doesn’t visibly relax at the words. He stands with his arms folded across his chest and a defiant tilt to his chin. “Why did you assume that I’m an omega? Is it because you think you must be better than me, since you’re a big, strong, dominant alpha?”
And there’s another reason that Kaveh is probably an omega: if he were an alpha, he’d be flaunting it to Alhaitham as clear evidence that they’re equals. (As if Alhaitham doesn’t already consider them equals—as if he would share his house and free time with someone that he views as inferior. But Kaveh has never been totally rational about things.)
“You know I don’t think of things in those terms,” Alhaitham says.
“Oh, really?” Kaveh takes a step closer, and Alhaitham lifts his eyes from the book that he’s been using as a prop. “Well, then, if that’s not it—is it because you’ve fantasized about me writhing and whimpering under you, begging for your knot, entirely submitting to you?” He raises an eyebrow. “Maybe not before, when you thought I was a beta, but you’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? How it feels natural for you to dominate me that way?”
Well, Alhaitham wasn’t thinking about that, but this feels a bit like the ironic rebound exercise of telling someone not to think about a pink shaggy sumpter beast—naturally, the person is going to start thinking about a pink shaggy sumpter beast.
Kaveh, splayed out beneath him, golden hair unpinned and wild against the sheets. His back arched in pleasure, soft sighs and low moans tumbling from his lips. Nails dragging down Alhaitham’s back as he begs for more, mouth shiny and wet as he demands a kiss—and Alhaitham, obliging, feeling each needy hum vibrate against his lips. Burying his face against Kaveh’s neck, breathing in his scent, whispering praise as Kaveh gasps and comes undone.
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Kaveh says, even though Alhaitham hasn’t responded.
“What?” he says. “No, Kaveh. I have not fantasized about—oh.”
His scent. Kaveh can smell his scent. His scent, which is currently saturated with unmistakable arousal.
Maybe Alhaitham should look into scent blockers, after all.
“Oh,” Kaveh parrots, glaring at him. “Ha. Not a dominant alpha, my ass.” His face twists in a wince, and he looks away. “All alphas are the same. They can’t help their instincts.”
So much for disliking stereotypes based on designations. “For all you know, I was imagining the opposite.”
“Sure,” Kaveh scoffs, rolling his eyes.
For the sake of being contrarian—and, of course, in order to conduct a fair and accurate assessment—Alhaitham considers that scenario.
He envisions being pressed down into the mattress, his wrists pinned together over his head. Kaveh looming over him, hair framing flushed cheeks, dark eyes feasting on the sight of Alhaitham. How each thrust might send a jolt through Alhaitham, pressing against the spot that makes his head spin. How Kaveh would study him like a work of art, dragging his gaze across every bare centimeter of skin, and then probably say something absurd like you’re gorgeous.
He’d tease Alhaitham for making so much noise—or remark on each muffled sound, as Alhaitham would doubtless try to stay quiet—and then he’d urge him to beg, to prove that he’s not some overly dominant alpha.
He can imagine Kaveh’s voice all too easily. Not so strong and dominant now, hm? Doesn’t this feel more natural? Submitting to me, begging for my cock?
“Are you serious?” Kaveh exclaims, interrupting the fantasy. “Get your damn pheromones under control! Archons. Whatever you’re thinking about, save it for when you’re alone in your room.”
Alhaitham clears his throat and strategically positions his book so that it covers his crotch. “I was considering a counterargument.”
“Whatever you say, you reprobate.” Kaveh’s flush has spread down to his chest, making the golden tone of his skin glow pink. Alhaitham mentally recites laws of motion, desperately trying to contain the scent of his arousal—but it’s difficult with Kaveh standing right there, blushing so temptingly. “Speaking of those alpha instincts—I’m sure this will piss off your territorial side, but you need to leave the house while I’m in…well, while I’m…”
“In heat?” Alhaitham finishes, which unfortunately triggers another round of thoughts that have nothing to do with the study of physics.
Kaveh sighs. “Due to the combination of abruptly quitting the suppressants and starting the new medication, my body will probably react with…an intense episode. I don’t want you here while I’m dealing with that.”
Does Kaveh really not trust Alhaitham to control himself? Of course Alhaitham got aroused when Kaveh literally told him to envision the two of them fucking. What exactly had Kaveh expected? That Alhaitham would feel nothing? Alhaitham supposes he would be apathetic if it were anyone else, but he could never feel indifferent toward Kaveh.
Obviously he finds Kaveh attractive. But that’s not because of instinct—it’s because Kaveh is objectively beautiful, and despite their frequent bickering, Alhaitham does feel comfortable with him. That doesn’t mean he would take advantage of Kaveh, though. He would never do anything to hurt him. He’d chew off his own hand like an animal if his instincts ever drove him to lay a finger on Kaveh.
He wants to protect Kaveh. And he certainly can’t do that if Kaveh makes him leave. Kaveh will be alone, and defenseless, and likely in pain.
“There it is,” Kaveh says. Alhaitham realizes he’s referring to how his scent has sharpened into a threat, like the looming sting of a scorpion’s tail. “At least you smell less like a pervert, now.”
Kaveh has apparently mistaken Alhaitham’s protective instincts for territoriality, but Alhaitham doesn’t feel like correcting him. “So you want to kick me out of my own house,” he says. “I’ve provided a roof over your head, and you’re going to make me stay at an inn?”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” At least Kaveh looks genuinely apologetic. “But I don’t feel comfortable going to an inn for this, and…” His eyes fall to a stack of books on the coffee table. “I don’t know if it’s safe to stay here with you, either. Just…can you leave for a week or two, please? I’ll pay for your room. You can pick the most expensive suite. Order room service for every meal, if you want. I’ll cover the cost.” He lifts his gaze to meet Alhaitham’s, his eyes round and bright like agate stones. “Please, Alhaitham.”
“To clarify,” Alhaitham says, “you’re saying you’ll feel safer if I’m not here. Do I have that correct?”
“That—that’s not exactly what I said.”
“You said that you don’t know if it’s safe. That implies a degree of uncertainty, which means that you’ll feel less uncertain—and therefore safer—if I’m not around.” When Kaveh doesn’t respond, Alhaitham adds, “I’m just making sure I understand the situation correctly.”
“To be honest,” Kaveh says, “I don’t think you understand the situation at all.”
“Are you worried that I’ll take advantage of you?”
It’s perhaps an unnecessary question, but one that Alhaitham feels compelled to ask. His stomach twists at the idea that Kaveh could trust him so little. He doesn’t want to believe that’s the case.
“What?” Kaveh says, his brow furrowed. “I—if I say yes, will that make you agree to leave?”
“I’ll leave regardless, if you tell me the truth.”
As he says those words, Alhaitham realizes that he’s offering a horrible deal, far worse than any of the times Kaveh has been scammed into helping worthless causes. He doesn’t know why his common sense seems to have abandoned him. He should probably just turn on his headphones and take a nap, before he agrees to anything even stupider.
After a long moment of silence, Kaveh picks his away around the coffee table and sits on the opposite end of the couch. “It…it’s not that I don’t trust you. I’m uncertain because I don’t know how I’ll react to your presence, and—and this is unpleasant enough, you know. I don’t want to worry about how you fit into this, on top of everything else.” A tentative smile tugs at his lips. “If you want a successful outcome, you eliminate as many uncontrollable variables as possible, don’t you?”
“So you wish to eliminate me,” Alhaitham says dryly.
Kaveh laughs, and the sound is surprisingly warm. “Don’t be so sour. It’s more like…I’m temporarily setting you aside, until I can properly enjoy your presence.”
“Enjoy?” Alhaitham echoes. “There’s no need to exaggerate. How you feel about my company has no effect on my feelings. You can be honest.”
“What? I’m not…” Kaveh’s smile disappears, and he turns away, arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Well, it’s admittedly difficult to enjoy being around you, when you say stupid things like that.”
“That’s better. You sounded much more believable that time.”
Kaveh’s head snaps back to face him. There’s something unreadable in his eyes, an intensity that Alhaitham can’t quite define. “I—if it weren’t for the uncertainty, I’d want you here. I…” His throat jumps as he swallows. “I’d want you around.”
Then why don’t you keep me around? a foolish part of Alhaitham’s mind demands. Why don’t you let me help you, instead of suffering through this by yourself?
Because Alhaitham now realizes that he’d gladly help Kaveh endure his heat. He’d take care of him for however many days it lasts, and he’d do a far better job than any other alpha, because he knows Kaveh far better than any other alpha.
He knows what type of furniture Kaveh considers ugly (and buys it on purpose to annoy him). He knows that Kaveh can easily eat a pound of cardamom hard candies in less than a week, and that Kaveh spends so long trying to arrange his dinner artfully that the food goes cold by the time he’s done. He knows what Kaveh looks like when he clips his bangs back to wash his face, and what his eyes look like without that subtle swipe of eyeliner he wears.
Given how well he knows Kaveh, Alhaitham is certain that he could easily figure out the few remaining unknowns: where he’s most sensitive, how he likes to be kissed, what sounds he makes when he comes apart.
“Will you be inviting another alpha here?” Alhaitham asks, with more bite in his voice than he intends. “Is there someone you intend to spend your heat with?”
Kaveh squints at Alhaitham, then shakes his head, earrings swaying as he does. “No, I—I intend to be alone. If I don’t want you around, then I certainly don’t want anyone else to see me during this.”
Alhaitham feels his body relax at the words. That’s good. No one else should be allowed to see Kaveh in that state.
His chest immediately twinges at the thought. What prompted that preposterous idea? Alhaitham doesn’t care if Kaveh spends his heat with someone. He’s letting instincts cloud his judgment, like some uninhibited teenager experiencing their first rut.
“Alright,” Alhaitham says. “I’ll leave, if that’s what you want. But it’s absurd for you to pay for my lodgings, when I’m the reason you feel unsafe. I’ll use one of the spare rooms in the Akademiya dormitories, or I’ll sleep in my office.”
“You don’t—well, fine, but if you change your mind, you can bill me later.”
“Just like the rent I keep billing you?”
Kaveh’s mouth falls open in outrage, and Alhaitham endeavors not to think about other ways that mouth could be put to use. “You—you know I went bankrupt! You don’t actually expect me to pay rent, do you? That defeats the entire purpose of me moving in!”
“You mean you aren’t here just to enjoy my presence? I’m shocked.”
Kaveh leaps to his feet with a huff. “I’m taking a shower. If you can pack your things and leave by tomorrow morning, that would be ideal. I’ll start my treatment plan once you’re gone.”
Alhaitham leans forward. “You’re not even going to remove the scent blockers?”
Kaveh looks at him like he’s gone mad. “When you’re already horny just from considering counterarguments? No, thank you. I’ll keep my enticing scent to myself.”
“I wasn’t…”
But Kaveh is already marching across the room, indicating that the conversation is over. Alhaitham sighs and picks up his book, wondering if he’ll even be able to focus on reading now.
Pausing in the doorway, Kaveh turns back toward Alhaitham. “Thank you, really. I appreciate that you’re willing to…to help me like this.”
“Of course,” Alhaitham says, even though he thinks that he could help Kaveh far more, if he’d let him.
With a small smile, Kaveh rounds the corner and disappears.
Alhaitham immediately sets his book aside and slumps against the back of the couch with another sigh. Staring up at the curved wooden ceiling overhead, he wills his heated body to calm down.
But he’s always been steadfast in his pursuit of knowledge, and this unexpected development presents a new question: Does Alhaitham want Kaveh?
Or, to be more precise—since it’s clear that Alhaitham desires him physically, at least—in what way does Alhaitham want him, exactly? As a sexual partner? A romantic one?
As his mate?
Alhaitham has Kaveh as a housemate, and he once had him as a friend, but until now, he never even considered that there might be other options.
The concept of mating has always struck him as ludicrous. It’s simply a bizarre ritual intended to solidify the existing social order; for someone like Alhaitham, who rejects society’s notions of gender and designations, there’s no real point to it.
And yet, the thought of anyone else having Kaveh as their mate makes Alhaitham’s skin crawl. It feels wrong, like seeing a mirror that doesn’t reflect light, or watching someone eat soup off a plate with a fork. Unnatural. Intolerable.
But mating with Kaveh himself? Is that something he could actually want?
Or even simply having Kaveh as a romantic partner, without all of the instincts and pheromone nonsense…does Alhaitham want to pursue that?
He isn’t sure. It’s too much to consider in one sitting. He needs time to think.
And he supposes he’ll be getting plenty of time starting tomorrow, since Kaveh has elected to oust him from the house until his heat passes.
It’s completely unnecessary. Alhaitham has agreed to leave because he wants Kaveh to feel safe—but why couldn’t Kaveh feel safe with him? Why couldn’t he let Alhaitham stay by his side and take care of him? At the very least, the familiar scent of an alpha would make the heat more bearable, and Alhaitham could make sure that Kaveh gets enough water and food throughout it.
And while Alhaitham would probably get aroused by Kaveh’s scent, he could easily handle those effects on his own. It’s not as if he’s never smelled an omega in his life; in fact, he’s even smelled omegas in heat before, and not once did he turn into some libidinous feral beast.
Of course, no one has ever interested him the way Kaveh does, but that doesn’t change anything. While it would probably make things more frustrating for Alhaitham, he’d gladly endure that frustration if it meant he could ensure that Kaveh is safe and cared for.
And if Kaveh wanted him to help in other ways…well, Alhaitham certainly wouldn’t object to that.
Ugh. Alhaitham is still pitifully hard. He doesn’t even know which fantasy was primarily responsible, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. The common denominator is Kaveh: his soft skin, his warm voice, his bright eyes. The smooth muscles of his chest, the dip of his waist. How his gaze might gleam as he sinks onto Alhaitham’s cock—or how his lips might curve in an infuriating smirk as he thrusts into Alhaitham—
Footsteps stomp down the hall, and from around the corner, Kaveh yells, “I can smell that, you concupiscent ass! Go jerk off in your room instead of desecrating the couch—it’s ugly enough already, without you spewing fluids all over it!”
Sighing, Alhaitham wonders whether it’s instinct or insanity that makes him attracted to Kaveh.
At Alhaitham’s insistence, Kaveh promises that he’ll arrange for a medic to visit every other day, to make sure that he’s eating enough and that his new medication doesn’t result in any complications. In theory, this should reassure Alhaitham. He doesn’t have to worry that something bad will happen to Kaveh in his absence.
In practice, Alhaitham feels like he’s losing his mind.
Normally, his process of reasoning works like this: He encounters a problem, and ninety-nine times out of one hundred, it doesn’t unsettle him. Having encountered this problem, Alhaitham will then consider the facts and collect more evidence if needed, reshaping his conclusions along the way. He eliminates irrelevant variables, considers alternate causes, and ultimately arrives at the truth of the matter. And unless he is given a very compelling reason to reconsider, he will typically accept this truth as fact.
Kaveh’s medical issue is the one problem out of one hundred that bothers Alhaitham, because of course it is. Despite that, Alhaitham has gone through his typical sequence of inquiries and determined that Kaveh is almost certainly fine—and yet, Alhaitham’s instincts refuse to accept this conclusion.
He logically knows that Kaveh isn’t in danger, but his body doesn’t care. He wakes up with a pinched feeling in his chest, then abandons his morning cup of coffee after three sips because his stomach is upset. He paces around his borrowed dormitory room for at least an hour, and when he finally shows up at his office, he can barely sit still because of some irrational compulsion to rush out the door and race back to the house.
The house. The house, where Kaveh is. And where Alhaitham should be, to take care of his…well, whatever Kaveh is. Kaveh is definitely his in some way, even if Alhaitham hasn’t yet figured out how to articulate it.
Or maybe Kaveh isn’t his, and that’s why Alhaitham feels drawn to his side. Perhaps it’s less an urge to physically be with Kaveh, and more so a desire to stake his claim. To prove to Kaveh that he can trust Alhaitham, that he’ll be safe with him—and that he’ll never need to look for a mate, because Alhaitham can provide for him better than any other alpha in Teyvat.
But that possibility only makes Alhaitham feel like he really has lost his mind, because those thoughts certainly aren’t born from logic. No, those thoughts are a product of the biological instincts that Alhaitham has spent his entire life learning to ignore, convinced that rationality would make him immune to such base urges.
Surely, he thought, surely logical reasoning would prevent him from wanting anything primal and irrational—such as, for instance, mating with Kaveh, which has been on Alhaitham’s mind far too often over the past two days.
The longing is intense. It’s worse than the fragile feeling he gets when he goes out without his headphones, or the jittery unease he feels when he goes more than three days without coffee. Alhaitham wants, and wants, and wants, and there is nothing he can do about it.
He never realized how much he wanted Kaveh until now. He legitimately hadn’t considered it, because a physical relationship with another person simply didn’t seem necessary. Whenever Alhaitham has found himself wanting a sexual outlet, he’s never felt the need to involve someone else; he can easily take care of things on his own, without the inconveniences of social interaction.
Even when Alhaitham had precisely three one-night stands as an Akademiya student, that was purely out of curiosity, since he had wanted to know what sex with a partner felt like. And it had seemed prudent to gain experience ahead of time, in the unlikely event that Alhaitham ever decided to pursue someone in earnest.
Alhaitham certainly never expected that person to be Kaveh—but in hindsight, that’s the only person it was ever going to be.
Over the years, he has considered plenty of people to be objectively good-looking…but never as attractive as Kaveh. Never attractive to the point that Alhaitham’s scent instantly gave away his interest. Never attractive to the point that he wanted someone this badly.
He wants Kaveh.
Badly.
The day that Kaveh scolded Alhaitham for getting hard in the living room, Alhaitham didn’t touch himself afterwards, because he was determined to repudiate Kaveh’s accusations of concupiscence. But now, spending his second night in a borrowed dormitory room, Alhaitham sees no reason to resist.
(That’s a lie. He sees plenty of reasons to resist. Kaveh is likely unattainable, so Alhaitham would only be reinforcing an ill-advised attraction; if he starts envisioning sex with Kaveh, then their existing strained interactions will become even more awkward; and if he masturbates to Kaveh now, with those base instincts screaming for him to protect-claim-mate, then he’s just hastening his descent into complete madness.)
Alhaitham removes his headphones so that he can monitor the noise he makes, then props up a pillow and reclines against it. Outside, crickets chirp and cicadas whir, accompanied by the occasional cry of a nightbird. The dormitory is silent otherwise, although Alhaitham is fairly certain that he has neighbors.
With a resigned sigh, he undoes his pants and begins stroking himself.
It doesn’t feel like enough. He shifts and adjusts his hips, tightens and twists his hand, but the stimulation doesn’t feel satisfying. Like pressing his finger to an itch instead of scratching it.
Alhaitham settles against the pillow and closes his eyes. He wishes that he could see Kaveh right now. Wishes he could smell him.
What does Kaveh really smell like? Alhaitham normally hates the cacophony of pheromones that emanate from people—it’s one of many reasons that he tends to avoid social interaction—but he’s frustratingly curious when it comes to Kaveh. For as long as he’s known him, Kaveh has never really had a scent. And Alhaitham never questioned that before, because he thought that Kaveh was a beta who couldn’t produce pheromones.
Knowing that there is a scent, though, one that’s been hidden from him…
Alhaitham has always enjoyed decoding forgotten languages. Naturally, he enjoys discovering other things that were previously unknowable, too.
Like Kaveh.
He desperately wants to know Kaveh.
Even though they’ve never been intimate, Alhaitham has seen plenty of times how enticing Kaveh can be. His memory instantly supplies him with several instances where his roommate looked unreasonably attractive, and he greedily latches onto each image it provides.
Kaveh right after a shower, shirtless with a towel draped over his neck—which, in hindsight, was probably to hide the scent blockers he wore. Wet tangled hair curling over his shoulders, droplets of water clinging to his chest, the creases of his hips peeking over the towel wrapped low around his waist. Face flushed from the steam, ears bare, one toned arm gripping the towel to ensure his modesty.
But what modesty? Once Kaveh changed into his pajamas, he often seemed even more exposed. During particularly cold nights, he might wear long sleeves and pants to bed, but for the most part, he dressed as if the house were boiling hot.
He was particularly fond of thin shorts that barely reached mid-thigh, showing off the tan skin of his legs. Every time he bent over, the hem of those shorts rode up even more to reveal the curve of his ass. And when he reached toward a high shelf, his loose shirt lifted to reveal the dips in his back, or slipped off his shoulder to reveal collarbones and a slender throat.
Part of his throat, at least, since he always wore his hair carefully pinned to his neck in loose waves. Alhaitham had thought that Kaveh was simply exacting with his appearance, even when he was dressed for sleeping—but he now realizes that Kaveh styled his hair to cover his scent blockers whenever a shirt collar didn’t.
Alhaitham tips his head back and rolls his hips, breaths coming a bit faster. He imagines removing those pins and brushing Kaveh’s hair aside, pressing his lips to that spot on his throat. Kissing his way past his shoulders, sucking at his collarbone, listening to each sigh and moan that leaves Kaveh’s mouth.
He’d push Kaveh onto the couch and slide down between his legs, nipping and licking at the exposed skin of his thighs, inhaling his scent. He’d stay there until Kaveh started to twitch and whine, and then he’d tug those damned shorts off, revealing Kaveh’s cock.
In his mind, Alhaitham kisses the tip, his hands gripping Kaveh’s thighs to keep them spread apart. He sucks at his cock, taking it farther into his mouth, and looks up to meet Kaveh’s eyes as he does.
He envisions Kaveh’s perspective, too: Alhaitham’s lips stretched around his cock, face flushed red, eyes falling shut as he moans at the taste.
Alhaitham wishes that he could actually taste Kaveh. He opens his mouth and imagines the weight of Kaveh against his tongue, thrusting past his lips. He tangles his own fingers in his hair and tugs, pretending that it’s Kaveh’s hand, Kaveh’s grip pulling just hard enough to sting.
Then he flattens his palm and pushes against the back of his head, as if Kaveh’s hand is shoving him down onto his cock. In his imagination, Kaveh’s voice teasingly praises him: You take me so well. Your mouth is much more useful than your cock, isn’t it? I only need your mouth. I don’t need anything else from an alpha. Just look pretty and suck my cock, Haitham. Don’t even think about fucking me.
A moan slips past Alhaitham’s lips, and he clamps his mouth shut. He’s not back at the house right now; he can’t afford to make much noise. Other people don’t have noise-cancelling headphones like he does.
He wishes he could hear the noises Kaveh makes, though. Every gasp, each sweet moan, his voice murmuring dirty things that would make Alhaitham’s face flush red.
Alhaitham pauses in his fantasizing. Where next? How else would he touch Kaveh?
He would kiss him, he thinks. Feel those soft lips against his, and probably listen to Kaveh complaining that Alhaitham’s are too chapped. Twirl a strand of Kaveh’s hair and tug lightly, making him cut off his complaint with a gasp. Then Alhaitham would grip their cocks together and stroke them, dragging his lips along Kaveh’s neck and shoulders. He’d murmur praise in his ear, tell Kaveh how pretty he is, how much Alhaitham wants him, how he can’t stand the thought of anyone else having him.
Then don’t let anyone else have me, Kaveh could say, tilting his head back to expose his throat.
And Alhaitham would inhale his scent and sink his teeth into the soft skin of that neck, marking Kaveh as his, his, his.
“Mine,” he breathes, out loud. “Gods, Kaveh—Kaveh—”
His hips jerk as he spills onto his hand, still whispering Kaveh’s name. He shivers with each wave of pleasure that rises and ebbs, until there’s nothing left but a wrung-out sense of calm in his mind.
Alhaitham flops onto his side, panting.
You have just orgasmed to the thought of fucking your roommate, his mind helpfully supplies.
Alhaitham groans and shuts his eyes.
He tells himself that he was just satisfying a biological urge. But that explanation doesn’t sit right, because aside from the need to eat or sleep, Alhaitham does not operate based on biological urges. He acts based on rationality.
So, orgasming to the thought of Kaveh must be perfectly rational. There are, after all, plenty of practical reasons to be interested in Kaveh. His brilliant smile, his expressive eyes—his kindness, his cleverness, his passion—the way he can make Alhaitham laugh mere seconds after they had a fight, or make him see the beauty in something that seems totally mundane—
No. Never mind. Alhaitham doesn’t want to consider that his interest in Kaveh might go beyond the physical.
For once, he will gladly accept that he was acting on nothing more than instinct.