justscribing | The City

And look - I'm not saying you have to tell me.
Or tell anyone, really! Or make this extremely weird because there's nothing weird about having a conversation and having opinions, even if it's opinions on this in particular, but even strange things beget opinions, don't they! That doesn't make the act of having an opinion on it weird!
Which means if I'm asking you for that opinion, I'm not being weird and you're not being weird in this incredibly not-weird hypothetical conversation that we haven't had yet.

[ this is actually the fifth message. kaveh still hasn't finished typing. ]

Anyway, what I mean to say is -
What is your opinion!
What did you think.
Please don't make this weird, Midnight.
I'm not being weird about it.
Also I'm outside your door, so could you please open it before your neighbours wonder if I'm here to take the door off your hinges again? Or before I take your door off its hinges again? One or the other, I'm not sure what kind of night it is right now but it's really shaping up to be like one or the other.

[ Thank fuck for both of them that Midnight is the lightest sleeper known to Ishar'mla's Terra. Thank fuck for Kaveh, in that he only needs to wait a handful of seconds for Midnight to open the door, and thank fuck for Midnight, who is very grateful to still have a door with hinges that swing out to greet Kaveh.

Midnight doesn't look... chipper, exactly, but he is awake in ways that only insomniacs are at 4 in the morning. He watched the video, deposited exactly one "wow" into chat, and rolled back over for a light doze. These are the consequences of his actions, probably. ]

Darling. My opinion was "wow". Would you like another? You are here at a very significantly early hour for a second opinion, you know.

[ ... Honestly, although the verbiage is snippy, Midnight is smiling. He's terribly amused. How else is he supposed to handle this, anyway? ]

[ from one insomniac to another: kaveh tips up his chin. midnight doesn't look well. this has occurred to kaveh enough times that it's ceased to become a novelty, though it will never not become a point of contention. the red of his gaze chases the contour of his cheek and the colour of it, the potential for bags under his eyes, the curve of his mouth. kaveh would like midnight to look well, and he knows that part of the issue must be the video.

guilt curls in the pit of his stomach as he shoulders past midnight in a hurry to make sure that midnight won't change his mind and shut the door. that could end badly for both of them. ]

Oh, don't even try to pass that off as a proper opinion. In my world, the opinion isn't proper until you've a thirty-page paper with reputable citations and at least three people who dissent with you. [ kaveh reaches up with his hand to tip up midnight's chin. ] Let me look at you. Aren't you paler than the last time I saw you? You're not eating well or sleeping well, aren't you. Don't lie to me, I can see it from a kilometer away.

[ From one insomniac to another: it's only because Midnight knows his own habits that he knows Kaveh's, that he knows neither of them have any business being up. Kaveh's probably been up, logically speaking, because geometric proofs are the only way Midnight is ever able to make concrete conclusions about reality, about "how" and "why". He shuts the door behind Kaveh, tries to scoot around him to fetch him something to drink, and is caught by his hand. Of course. A look from Kaveh's eyes could shoot down his very soul. ]

Now, how amenable to social niceties are we feeling tonight, my heart? Do I fuss over whether you've slept at all in return, or can I put on a pot of tea while you arrange yourself on my couch? There are only two scholars of the Akademiya here, after all, not nearly enough to conclude anything about my dissertation. May as well get comfortable before we discuss.

[ They might be able to sleep if Midnight puts on chamomile and they get comfortable enough. Who's to say? ]

Or we can cut the niceties and you can admit to me that your sleep's been horrid, and I can give you a proper lecture while I dig through your fridge to make sure that Yesod and Netzach are getting a good meal at least. [ says kaveh, right-quick, as his eyes narrow just enough. enough for what? enough to not catch any shifts in midnight's expression, to not see any overt signs of distress, but kaveh knows better than to believe they don't exist. this is the man for whom his heart is nothing more than a pincushion. kaveh taps midnight's cheek. ]

Look, I'm just here to check up on you. Check in with you. One of the two. I just - [ ... ] maybe you didn't want to see that video, is all. And what kind of a response is a simple 'wow'? I spent an entire three hours staring at it wishing I had the kind of hands that could reach into texting space and shake an answer out of it. Was it a good 'wow' or a bad 'wow'? Did it disturb you? Unsettle you? Have you been thinking about it in lieu of sleep? And we don't need a third Sumeran scholar to dissent when there are perfectly capable people like Netzach and Yesod who'd also tell you the what's what. They're both scientists. They can both see through bullshit.

So honestly: how much sleep did you get last night? And do you regret seeing that video?

My sleep would be better with Netzach, it's true, but... Well, that's another subject, isn't it?

[ One that is better pushed out by the tabs with Yesod, with Netzach, a subject that he is solving with them via time and the gentle application of such. He's cherishing the amount of time Yesod allows him. He cherishes Yesod, cherishes Netzach, the way they try to understand his space, his time...

Midnight laughs, turns his face to Kaveh's hand. ]

It's in the past, love. The sort of past that we've no way of reaching properly, not even in the realm of our own memories. It's a dream, like those we're meant to have about now, chronologically speaking. There is no consequence to it but the sort we choose to draw from its conclusions. Now please sit with me so we can attempt to discuss this with some modicum of civility. You're getting chamomile, and so am I.

[ ... Midnight's voice is still light. Very much the voice of a man who is still wondering if he can put the kettle on for them both. ]

[ kaveh has heard it all before. he raises his other hand, and holds midnight's face in his palms the way you would a recalcitrant dog.

kaveh looks. ]

And you'll have more to say than what I've already heard before, yes?

[ Well. At this range, Midnight attempts to lean in and kiss Kaveh's nose. What? How is he expected to resist? ]

I can attempt nuance, yes. Ah, to give in to your demands is divine... Now sit.

[ And Midnight will wait until Kaveh sits, and he will put out the kettle, pull the box of chamomile tea and requisite mugs from the shelves, then leave it to boil in favor of joining Kaveh at the couch. Yes, he's aware that he'll just need to get up again. No, he doesn't mind. This is all in the name of progress. Midnight is an eternal devotee of that word, progress. ]

[ kaveh accepts the kiss to his nose. he rolls his eyes, and presses a kiss back to midnight's cheek, because you can't accept something without giving something back, and the look in midnight's eyes - well, you can't let that sort of thing stand. ]

Fine. But only because I know I'm being placated. I'll give an inch so that you can give me an inch in turn.

[ now, he sits. he rather likes midnight's apartment. terrible taste in decor aside, it feels lived-in, and he has to admit that it feels very much like midnight, and netzach, and yesod. it's the little touches. a pile of netzach's beer cans, set to dry before recycling. yesods books on the shelf. and yes, midnight's decor, even though kaveh has thoughts about that light fixture over in the breakfast nook.

he relaxes into the couch, and realises that the reason why he likes midnight's place so much is that it smells like midnight, and netzach, and yesod. he rather likes that.

midnight joins him. kaveh clears his throat. ]

... how have you been?

[ Midnight flushes in pure, simple joy at the kiss returned. Oh, to love, to be in love...

He settles, finds a throw, tosses the detergent and soap and warm lived in scent of it over Kaveh's legs. There. He knows those toes are cursed with bad circulation. Warm up. ]

There. To expedite this conversation: thinking. Dreadful that a countenance as beautiful as mine is condemned to a trove of deep thought roiling behind it...

[ Midnight laughs. But Kaveh demands it, so think he will. What did he think of the video, besides that it exists, and that it was "wow"? He plays with the blanket, gathering words.]

It was dream. I did not say, at any point, it was a nightmare. I hope that answers one of your questions, my darling.

[ the throw is warm. it's a blend of cotton and a plastic material spun into something resembling thread. kaveh picks at it with his fingers, and concludes that the thread count is acceptable, though he suspects that he can do better. his fingers splay across it as he leans up and considers midnight's words.

thinking, huh. ]

... a little. It does put my mind at ease, a little. [ ... ] Is it a dream in the sense that you've always wanted it so? Not the sex- before you say the sex. I know what you are, Midnight. But the closeness, and with Alhaitham. Is that the dream?

[ Midnight cants his head, tucks it against the back of the couch like he's young, sleeping on the couch with a friend, whispering quiet, youthful hypotheses. He smiles. He's old enough to have run the experiments. He knows better. ]

You know my raison d'être, love. Happiness for me, for you. For everyone I meet. Everyone in the world. Have we achieved happiness in this world, do you think? Did we achieve happiness in the others?

We have.

[ kaveh says this without a single breath of hesitation. he uses the same conviction he used when talking down a jury of his peers regarding the ethics of teaching architecture - he tips his head towards midnight so that the crowns of them touch, scholar to scholar, equal to equal. ]

We have, Midnight. In so many people, even if briefly. But I haven't achieved happiness in you.

[ Midnight shifts closer, face searching for Kaveh's scent, his touch. Not kissing, not scenting him. Just there, feeling the way warm emanates from him ]

Was that your goal, Kaveh? You've only ever spoken of the pain, the sadness. My happiness was always there, darling. It simply is.

[ A smile shifts his whole world, a thank you breaks his heart. In this sense, happiness was always easy. Midnight's happiness was always so easy, and therefore easy to share... ]

[ midnight leans in. kaveh breathes out. his hand skims midnight's cheek, pulls him in close, forehead-to-forehead. nose-to-nose. chest-to-chest. midnight is the scent of a polish counter, a trellis overlooking the sea, the iron of a well-honed blade. ]

If you won't speak of the pain and the sadness, then obviously it falls to me to speak of it. You've turned the dredges of happiness into your purpose. There's a happiness that suits you much better.

[ Clean, impeccably bright, perfect. What else can Midnight be...? ]

All happiness is worthy, and I am all happiness. I suppose that makes me bound to wonder about the happiness of which you speak. Tell me about your mystery happiness... Where is it? What is it? It is, perhaps, a happiness you strive to cultivate in me, or a happiness you simply cannot see?

[ Midnight is genuinely curious, either way. What happiness is Kaveh talking about...? Isn't Midnight the expert? ]

It's obvious, isn't it? [ kaveh flicks midnight's forehead. it manages to be a fond motion. ] It's the happiness you have when you're with someone you trust, and love. When happiness is an echo and mirror of the one that's felt in your presence. That happiness suits you the best, and it only occurs when you let yourself be happy without all that nonsense about shying away from it in fear of it hurting someone else.

And that happiness was on the screen. And that's the happiness that I want to see in you.

[ Midnight scrunches up his face in a very attractive way (he assumes, because he's always attractive), but tucks himself back against Kaveh again, shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, breath to breath. He focuses, because he loves Kaveh, and he always listens to those he loves... ]

Darling, darling. You asked for perfection. Not a relationship. Those two words aren't compatible. You know that, right?

We have a relationship. [ kaveh says, exasperated to the helpless curl of his fingers. he leans against midnight and takes his weight for his own, balances him against the flat of the couch as he measures his weight. has he been eating well? has he been losing weight? he'll have to rebalance his sword again; all these little things matter. ] And since I asked for perfection, then it seems to me that you have to strive towards it a little harder. Starting by telling me what you really think about that video.

You can't really think nothing, right?

We have a relationship. I was speaking of myself and Alhaitham. There is nothing between us at this point, darling.

[ Just a clarification. Of course Midnight has a relationship with Kaveh. That's why he can afford to be so cruel to him, sometimes... They share Kaveh, and that's a tenuous connection at best. ]

"Wow" is nothing to you? I was impressed, thus the comment. We're both very good looking people, darling, we were bound to be quite eminently attractive together in bed.

[ ... No comment about the emotional aspect. Midnight tilts his head. Is that what Kaveh was expecting from him...? If it was, Midnight really does think nothing of it. ]

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