Snowdrop [Haikaveh]

December 22nd: Sweater

"What are you wearing?" Alhaitham's eyes are locked onto the loud, ugly sweater worn by Kaveh. His neighbour's hands are full of heavy-looking bags with unknown contents. He nudges back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting for Alhaitham to let him into the apartment.

"It's an ugly Christmas sweater," he says impatiently, trying to get past Alhaitham's sturdy body blocking the entrance, "everyone should have one of these bad boys." Alhaitham doesn't like the implication in Kaveh's words.

"I disagree, so you and whatever is in those bags can stay out there." He moves to close the door, but Kaveh pushes past him in the split second he relaxes his guard; the blond has no regard for the obvious objections to his presence.

Kaveh sighs deeply and sets the bags down. "Honestly, Haitham, I thought you, of all people, would have learned something from yesterday's movie." The blond flails his arms dramatically for emphasis of what Alhaitham does not know.

"Which is?" Alhaitham asks, brows raised.

"That the only reason Scrooge's 'I hate Christmas' thing worked was because he was filthy rich, and even that didn't last." Kaveh says, as if he has a perfectly valid point.

"Are you saying I'm too poor to dislike Christmas?"

"No, I'm saying you're not rich enough to be this grumpy." Kaveh gives a self satisfied nod.

"Kaveh, do you know the saying, 'Don't throw rocks in a glass house?'"

"Of course, why?" Kaveh asks.

"Given that someone had to beg me for my credit card yesterday, I think said person should be careful what they say about my financial situation." Alhaitham frowns, mildly annoyed.

"What do you mean, my dearest neighbour?" Kaveh acts ignorant. Did he ask Alhaitham for his card so he could go grocery shopping for the two of them? Maybe. He doesn't remember. Did he bring any other items home by mistake? Well, nobody would ever know for sure.

"Ah, perhaps I lost it rather than give it to my broke senior," The ashen-haired man pulls his phone from his pocket and pretends to make a call, "better get the bank to cancel the card and the recent purchases."

Kaveh's playful expression disappears, replaced by a serious frown. "Let's not be hasty," he says as he enters Alhaitham's personal space, putting his hand over the phone in an attempt to lower it. He isn't ready to give up this new source of income that Alhaitham has so generously bestowed upon him.

"More importantly, I got you a gift!" Maybe changing the subject will distract Alhaitham from what happened to his credit card.

"A gift you bought with my money?" Okay, so it didn't deter him from talking about the credit card.

Kaveh's head nudges downward as he points to the sweater he's wearing, ignoring Alhaitham's question, "Isn't it cute?" Instead of arguing Kaveh's taste, Alhaitham sees an opportunity.

"You thought I'd like to see you in an ugly sweater?" He asks, intentionally misinterpreting Kaveh, who rolls his eyes, but the taller man continues before he can clarify. "I know I can be difficult to read for you at times, but it shouldn't have been difficult for you to figure out that seeing you in a more revealing outfit would have made me far happier."

Alhaitham takes advantage of the space Kaveh had previously closed between them, getting right up his face as he makes the flirtatious comment.

Kaveh's ears redden visibly, and he realises he's made a mistake by invading Alhaitham's personal space. Aside from a clear smirk on his neighbour's face, he appears unconcerned. Meanwhile, Kaveh begins to fluster.

"Well! Anyway, let me get you your p-present!" Kaveh curses himself for stuttering. He doesn't want Alhaitham to think he's won. Nonetheless, the blond feels his entire body heating up from embarrassment and wishes he could dig a hole and hide in it.

With quick and nimble steps he returns to his bags and away from Alhaitham. He rummages through them, looking for the sweater he bought the man. As his hands make contact with the soft fabric, his mind quickly forgets Alhaitham's remark.

He takes the sweater from the bag, his back turned to Alhaitham, ready for the big reveal. When he saw the item of clothing in the store, he swore it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. It had stopped him in his tracks and his eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning.

He turns to Alhaitham with an uncontrollable smile. "I saw this in the store and immediately thought of you." He is beaming, proud at the perfect find. As his neighbour quietly examines the sweater in front of him, an audible silence fills the room.

The sweater read 'Feel the Joy,' in an elegant font, which wasn't exactly an unusual phrase for the holidays. It is the imagery of two obscenely placed hands over the chest area that made the sweater truly fit its genre of "ugly" Christmas sweaters.

"That," he pauses, "made you think of me?"

With great enthusiasm and genuine innocence Kaveh nods. He doesn't pause to consider the implications of either the purchase nor his words. He holds the sweater out in front of him, waiting for Alhaitham to take it.

Alhaitham moves closer to Kaveh but does not take the piece of clothing. He folds his arms together, a mischievous expression on his face. "Would you please elaborate on that, my dearest neighbour?"

"Elaborate what?" Kaveh asks with a childish naivety.

"Why is it that this specifically made you think of me?" Despite asking, Alhaitham knows and understands exactly what prompted Kaveh to think of him when he saw the sweater. He isn't arrogant, but he is self-aware enough to know what his body looks like. Having Kaveh put the joke into words, on the other hand, is an opportunity he will not pass up.

Slowly, the gears in Kaveh's head begin to turn, and it dawns on him that he has just admitted that he was thinking of Alhaitham's chest. Not only did he admit it, but he admitted it to Alhaitham: the feeling of Alhaitham's chest equals joy.

"I... Well, you see! I'm uhh, the joke here is uhm..." Kaveh stammers, he finds the joke a whole lot less amusing now that he has to explain it.

Alhaitham takes another step closer and inspects the sweater in Kaveh's hands, as the latter struggles to find the right words.

Without saying anything, Alhaitham pulls his shirt over his head, drawing Kaveh's attention away from his predicament and into a new one. The blond cannot take his gaze away from the perfectly sculpted chest. In this newfound moment of weakness, he can only hope he isn't drooling.

His trance is only broken when Alhaitham pulls the sweater from his hands and over his head.

"That reaction will suffice as an explanation," Alhaitham smirks, "thank you."