[ Is avoiding really the word to use? Kalim hasn't been avoiding Jamil. At least, not insofar as avoidance being the intention. Then again, how is one meant to convey intention with something like that?
There's nothing left for Jamil to do here, in any case. Cleaning the forceps and packing away the kit barely eats up a few moments of his time, and then he has to awkwardly meander back to his coconut -- not touching a single thing in between -- while he tries to work out how Jamil's gotten this impression in the first place. ]
I've been trying to do more for myself. I'm learning all the things I never had to do before. I don't want to ask you for help unless I really need it. And I don't expect you to do anything for me anymore. I'm really grateful for what you still do! But--
I know I'm a burden to you. I didn't know I was. But I don't want to be anymore. So I'm trying really hard to make it so you can do what you want to do, and be who you want to be.
[...was that what he wanted? He didn't know. It was as if Kalim had laid a riddle before him, and, most frustratingly of all, Jamil was pretty sure Kalim didn't realize that was what he had been doing. Who did he want to be? What did he want to do?
He didn't know. Jamil had boasted about not letting anything hold him back anymore, and yet that it felt like, now that he had taken Kalim and set him aside as an obstacle, that there were a hundred thousand little things that still lay in his way. Things that he hadn't even considered as they (as well as he) had been in Kalim's shadow for years.
And Kalim was racing ahead. Who needed who?]
Well, if you aren't then you aren't.
[He (angrily) chopped up some broccoli, and then weighed protein...there was likely some sausage in the fridge that he could use.]
Yet it's felt like, whenever I offer you my help, you want nothing to do with it. And that it's only gotten worse since the kiss. [See? He can say it.]
[ And there it is, slipping out before Kalim has the good sense to stop it. He liked it. He'd like for it to happen again. He'd like to dance Jamil out to the farthest edges of the world and kiss him deeply in every shadowed corner of it. He wants Jamil by his side, forever and in every imaginable way. He'd give Jamil the whole world, anything and everything he wants, rearrange the stars themselves at his whim, and that's never going to change.
And as far as Kalim can tell, that's the absolute opposite of what Jamil has ever wished for. He hates Kalim. He wants to be away from him, out of his shadow, free of an aide's burden. Equals, rivals, nothing more. If that's what Jamil wants, then Kalim wants that for him too.
But he trusts Jamil. Kalim has always confided in him, and old habits die hard. ]
[His chopping slowed. Jamil's gaze turns towards the distance, not at Kalim, not at the vegetables he had cut to bits, not at the kitchen, or Scarabia, or Night Raven College, but at some fixed point a million miles away, and all Jamil could think was ah.
So that was it.
So that was what he had been mad at, this entire time.
He doesn't respond, not right away. What Jamil does is take the things for the bullshit fry and set them aside. He pulls out a pan. He stands there, for a moment, contemplating getting on with cooking, and then carefully walks towards Kalim, taking off one glove as he does so.]
You're right.
[But he doesn't sound...mad, more contemplative. Like they were discussing a fact. Like this isn't about them. This is about the latest thing Azul tried to pull, or the news that Leona was found sleeping in yet another new spot, or Riddle terrorizing his freshmen once more, or something else. Something boring. Mundane. Not about them.]
You shouldn't.
[And then he grabs Kalim's chin and Kalim would be forgiven for thinking that this was the prelude to him using his unique magic, and for one wild, angry moment Jamil considered doing that instead- but hadn't he said he wouldn't back down? That he wouldn't hide? That he'd stand by Kalim as an equal, instead of a servant?
So, instead, Jamil moved in, quick, kissed Kalim, hard, none of the hesitation of the kiss from before, none of the duty, none of the obligation, and while it still might be terrible it had one thing the last kiss lacked, which was passion. Decisiveness.
And then he pulled away as quickly as he had struck.]
If. [Jamil had to force himself to look at Kalim, to ride the wave of whatever had crested, to follow whatever had tipped over inside of him. Jamil had to force himself to stand there like he belonged, to force Kalim to see him, really see him, to not try to slither back into the shadows and hide.] If you're going to dream of a kiss, dream of this one, not...whatever that last one was. I'm better than that.
[...he should get back to cooking, before that whatever broke and he really had to think about the consequences of his actions- oh.]
Jamil may as well have hypnotized him. Ordered his lungs to seize up until he just simply expired. It has exactly the same effect, and not a single suffering cell in Kalim's brain will cooperate any longer. This is it. There's no more Kalim. He's checked out.
It must be instinct instead, that has Kalim reaching to cradle Jamil's jaw the moment he draws away again. His hands drift beneath to coax, thumb brushing idly over Jamil's fine cheek bone. That's the only warning Jamil receives, before Kalim guides their lips together again.
It's such a stark contrast to Jamil's kiss. Kalim's mouth is soft and undemanding, plush and generous. It gives as much as it takes, and Kalim swears, for just a moment, that everything in the world is as it should be. ]
[There was a range of reactions that Jamil had expected, or, if not expected, a range of reactions he wouldn't be surprised by. As an example, laughter: not mocking laughter, not from Kalim, but happy laughter. Surprise. Confusion? He had expected that he would be walking back to the stove at this point, sighing about something-or-another, Kalim laughing about something-or-another, and maybe things would feel a little less wrong then they felt before.
What he hadn't expected was this: Kalim cradling his face like he was something valuable. He hadn't expected Kalim's fingers coaxing him without words to stay, like he was something rare and fleeting. He hadn't expected to be kissed, like he was someone who mattered, like he was someone important, like he was someone who Kalim wanted, needed.
Jamil's eyes widen, his breath catches, he kisses back, of course, he's not thinking, how can he think, he kisses, and tilts his head so he can have a better angle, and his fingers catch Kalim's arm in his own- lightly, his fingers grazing the inside of Kalim's forearm, tracing the edges of Kalim's skin, and Jamil kisses, and kisses, and-
-and then there's a noise. Something crashing. A shout. Something. Jamil pulls back, blinking like a child who had just woken up from a long dream.]
Did you want to kiss me that badly? [Bravado as a mask, confidence as a ruse, said much more breathlessly than he'd like. Jamil said it more confidently than he felt, at least...which really wasn't much of an accomplishment as there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to go to a basketball club meeting right this second as those were stressful, but Floyd and Ace were both really distracting. Really, really distracting. Having basketballs thrown at his head would keep him from having to think too much.
[ Breathless, shameless. Yes. Yes, Kalim wanted (wants, full stop) to kiss him that badly. Jamil can be as viciously cocky as he pleases about that fact. Kalim will only reinforce his ego.
Something is happening beyond the kitchen, somewhere in the near distance. Crashing. Yelling. It's not particularly unusual for Scarabian afternoons, but it should give Kalim more pause than it ultimately does. He shouldn't be snatching at Jamil's wrist, squeezing gently at his arm (has his skin always been this soft?), grappling hard with the sudden desire to reel Jamil back in and crush their lips together indefinitely. Not with the stark reminder that other people are so near, that they could be seen, that--
Jamil is pulling away. And that, Kalim firmly reminds himself, is a thing he needs to respect. So instead, he nods, face and eyes all aflame in vastly different ways, and drops Jamil's wrist along with his own gaze. ]
We should, umm-- [ Kalim chews thoughtfully at the inside of his cheek. ] We should discuss the menagerie more. Later. If you... think it warrants more discussion?
[Kalim wasn't supposed to agree with his question. Kalim was supposed to laugh, or make a joke, or take it as a joke, not...not just agree with him. "Did you want to kiss me that badly?" "Yes." Kalim wasn't supposed to shamelessly agree with him, and it was only the hard won composure of years upon years of trouble that kept Jamil from melting into a flustered mess right then and there. What was he supposed to do with this? He didn't know what he was supposed to do with this. Kalim wasn't supposed to admit that he wanted (wants...?) to kiss him that badly. Kalim wasn't supposed to want him in general, at least not in any capacity besides an aide and...friend, maybe.
He's blushing. Jamil could feel it.
He's staring at Kalim's lips.
Jamil shouldn't be staring at Kalim's lips.
He could tell he was blushing and staring a little too long at Kalim's lips, but Kalim showed him mercy by dropping his gaze and letting him get back to his bullshit fry flatbread sandwich thing that...Jamil couldn't remember what he was doing with that but he'd figure it out...but then Kalim asks about the menagerie.
Jamil takes a moment to answer. He has to. He's being confronted with the evidence of his mood before (shredded carrots, pulverized onion) and also needs to try to figure out where he had been going with all of this, and on top of that there was everything that just happened. He has to nudge the onion with the tip of a knife, taking in how brutalized everything is.
But, time to do what he can with what he has.]
If we don't, someone might get hurt by a stray elephant.
[It's such a bad lie, but fortunately he has the bullshit fry to keep his hands and eyes busy. In goes the onions.]
And the camels can use more exercise. [In goes the other things, one by one.] The solution seems easy enough - have students ride them around - but I'd worry about the ones unused to camels overdoing things. [This is such a terrible lie, and he knows what discussions about the menagerie really mean, but it's the little lies Jamil has to tell himself (verbally, if not mentally) because otherwise he might crack, track down Floyd, and resort to desperate measures for a distraction as his brain's thinking too hard about this.]
[ A lot, Jamil says. We probably need to discuss the menagerie a lot. Has Kalim's face ever been this red? Has it ever felt this hot? He's staring at the floor at if he could bore a hole through the tile, gripping his coconut harder than is -- strictly speaking -- necessary, and he's almost positive there's steam coming out of his ears.
He's coming apart, going to pieces. He's melting. This is impossible. This is insane. This means-- This means that Jamil wants to kiss him. Jamil wants to kiss him a lot. Jamil wants him. Jamil doesn't hate him? ]
I-- [ Kalim's voice is trembling. ] Yeah. Please... Um. Could you come to my room after my tutoring? I'd like to. Discuss it a lot, I mean.
[ And truly, Kalim is this close to canceling the tutoring. But he shouldn't shirk his responsibilities just because his wildest dreams are coming true. Right? ]
[If Jamil knew what Kalim was thinking he'd be cursing the fact that he hadn't kissed Kalim better the first time, when they were under the mistletoe, when they had to kiss. Because, surely, if he had kissed Kalim better the first time, then the kiss surely wouldn't have haunted him. (Surely.) And if the kiss hadn't haunted him, then he wouldn't have kissed Kalim again, Kalim wouldn't have kissed him back, and Kalim wouldn't be asking about...discussing the menagerie. So quickly. So soon. So eagerly.
If Jamil knew what Kalim was thinking he'd also point out that he could have just as easily meant they needed to talk about whatever had happened between them, at length.
Most likely, though, if Jamil knew what Kalim was thinking he'd make the rest of the bullshit fry flatbread sandwich thing in silence, serve it to Kalim, say something about thinking about it, and fleeing with his hood up to eat his bullshit fry flatbread sandwich in his room with the door locked before resisting the urge to scream into a pillow.
Jamil's not psychic. And he has cooking, which keeps his brain and hands busy. So, he finishes up the bullshit fry, and makes two flatbread sandwiches from it. He exhales.
One is served to Kalim. The other he keeps for his own.]
If I have time.
[Jamil's voice is mostly steady and he's proud of that. There's a slight waver. Nerves. (Excitement?) Not too many people would be able to pick up on it. (Unfortunately, one of the few people in Night Raven College who reliably might be able to is Kalim who's right there.)
Actually, he's going to get a fresh coconut for himself. Because the ramifications of discussing the menagerie with Kalim are hitting him again.]
As you reminded me, I have studying of my own to do. That said...I doubt it will take that long. But you should worry about your own tutoring before you make plans with others, housewarden.
[Because Kalim's housewarden and has responsibilities and okay maybe took two tries for him to cut a good enough hole in the coconut but that's perfectly normal, yes?]
[ Food. There is food in front of him. But Jamil's suddenly as dismissive now as he was insistent earlier, and it's thrown Kalim into a quiet fit of confused turmoil. Maybe he-- Did he misread this entire situation?
Some outside perspective on this would be great. But who is Kalim supposed to turn to, when he's promised not to tell anyone? Silver? Lilia? Maybe if he's vague enough, they won't cotton onto who he's talking about. But that seems like a stretch; possible for Silver, but Lilia would know right away. He probably already knows, somehow. He just knows things sometimes. It's scary.
So if he can't turn to anyone else, the obvious solution is simply to talk to Jamil about it. Not now, clearly. Later, whenever Jamil decides he's ready, and from the sound of things, that may not be tonight, but-- ]
Mm... Okay. I'll text you when I'm finished tutoring, and you can come by if you're finished too. If you want to.
[ And that's the moment Kalim decides -- firmly and with no room whatsoever for doubt -- that he won't kiss Jamil again, unless Jamil kisses him first. ]
[Okay, coconut get, straw...placed in coconut, Jamil places them near Kalim's food as apparently they're going to be eating in the kitchen together, he can focus, he's going to sit do-
If you want to.
-Jamil's ass misses the stool and he nearly falls to the ground, but it's okay. It's okay. Everyone gets uncoordinated moments every now and again, yes? This happens to everyone. Perfectly normal. Happens to people all the time. And, as he neither spilled the sandwich...of sorts...nor the coconut, it's fine, yes, perfectly normal.]
Uh.
[Perfectly normal.]
Yes.
Of course.
[He's absolutely going to 'accidentally' text Kalim halfway through that tutoring session with a picture of something-or-another he thought Kalim might like to make sure Kalim texts him when he's done, but yes, perfectly normal.]
[ There's absolutely no chance of Kalim neglecting to text Jamil. The rest of their lunch may pass in contemplative silence, but Kalim would have been driven to distraction for the remainder of the afternoon even without Jamil's ever-so-helpful reminder.
It must be perplexing for the freshmen Kalim is tutoring. He's good at masking a great deal behind his smile and laughter, but he nearly drops his phone into a cauldron when Jamil's text hits his inbox, and it's only two hours, but time seems to absolutely crawl from that point forward. Kalim's brain is overclocking. He could swear it's on fire. Will Jamil even come tonight? Will they kiss again? Why did Jamil kiss him like that in the first place? Did he want to? Does he want to? Is this more obligation?
To that end, even when Kalim is finally back in his room -- freshmen successfully tutored -- it takes quite some time before he finally texts Jamil back. An agonizingly long time, perched on his couch, staring at his phone, mulling over the increasingly attractive option of finding some poisoned kefta so he has a hospital-bed-sized excuse to avoid this conversation. But in the end, Kalim slaps at both sides of his face, puffs out his chest, and snatches up his phone to message Jamil: ]
[A few minutes later. Maybe five minutes later? A few minutes later, but not too many minutes later.]
Welcome back.
[Jamil texts this as if he hadn't been lying on his bed staring at his ceiling for the last twenty minutes, wondering if Kalim's going to text or not, completely and totally failing to study, his mind a blur, dimly aware that there was something-or-another he could be doing to keep busy, not able to think of a thing, contemplating just grabbing his phone, some earbuds, and a quiet place where he could mindlessly practice dancing, and then the text came and he knocked his textbook to the floor in his hurry to sit up.
It wasn't Ace.
Or Floyd.
Or Trey.
It was Kalim.]
Did it go well?
[He will ask The Question in a second, right now he needs to ease into calm.]
They figured it out eventually! I think they understand now.
[ And now they're dancing around the subject. Kalim can't reliably say that his heart has ever sunk before. It's come close a few times -- and every single one of them involved Jamil -- and it's nearly there now. It's a wonder how Jamil manages this, inspires such despair that it almost shakes the most optimistic boy on the planet. But then, every cloud has its silver lining. ]
I'm glad you showed me that trick last year. They might have failed their next exam without it!
[ Silver linings. Like, for instance, the fact that Jamil answered him at all. And relatively quickly, at that. It all counts for something! Probably something good. Kalim will decide when the night is over. ]
[It went well up until the point in which Jamil sent Kalim that text, the one of a picture of something he thought Kalim would like, after which it went badly, but...that still meant he got in a solid hour of studying before he stared at various things and contemplated his life. Could be worse.
It's fine.
He could stop dancing around the subject.]
Hey, Kalim.
[Okay, so maybe he can't. After a moment he sends him a video of some sea otters. Because one cannot type 'hey, Kalim' without following up on that somehow.]
Apparently, I heard Floyd call you otter one too many times, but this made me think of you.
[Anyway, Jamil's getting up to head to the kitchen as Kalim must be thirsty after that marathon long tutoring session (it really did take a long time) so he could probably appreciate a refreshing drink of some kind, yes?]
Hahaha undercover otterbot! The most endearing little spy!
[ Nonsense. It's absolute nonsense and it's flying out of Kalim's fingers faster than he can think to stop it. Maybe that's why he doesn't hesitate to send the next (even though he probably should. ]
Are you in for the night? Or are you still coming over?
[Why did Kalim have to ask that, his entire 'oh, I just thought I'd bring over drinks' trial balloon question thing is ruined because there's no way of bringing over a tea nonchalantly now...worse, saying he was bringing Kalim a drink would just feel wrong, like the only way he can relate to Kalim is as his aide and retainer, and-
Fuck.]
I'm thirsty so I was going to get a drink before I came over. I'm in the kitchen. Do you want anything while I'm here?
Maybe some jasmine tea please, if there's any left?
[ There is. They keep loose leaf stocked in the kitchens, imported from the only vendor at Camel Bazaar that Kalim ever orders from. He might even drink it, but more than that, holding a teacup is something to do with his hands while he's trying not to touch Jamil. ]
With a little honey and clove?
[ Not that Jamil doesn't know how Kalim likes his tea by now, but assumptions are what got them into this mess in the first place. ]
I'll make enough for the both of us. It'll be a few minutes.
[Just a few minutes of him staring at the pot and wondering what it is that he's doing, that's all, that's it, no big deal.
A Scarabian student is about to walk into the kitchen, sees Jamil, and just walks out again as the vice housewarden is in a mood. Jamil doesn't notice any of this as he's too busy staring at his phone.]
Thank you! I'm just getting changed out of my lab things, so I'll be a minute anyway.
[ Trying to change out of his lab things, anyway. It's hard to make headway when he keeps diving back for his phone every time a notification chimes. Just in case it's Jamil. It feels important not to keep him waiting right now. ]
[Staring off into the darkness, Jamil takes a picture of the kettle and sends it to Kalim, noting,]
It's taking forever to boil.
[Has it always been this long? He doesn't know. But Jamil prepares the tea, gets honey and clove, takes a deep breath, resists the urge to scream, is consumed by the sudden need to fill the sink with water, stick his head into the water, and scream. (The water muffles his noise, see?)
He does not scream. He also does not run off into the desert to avoid this. He steels himself, takes the tray with the tea, and two teacups, and heads over to Kalim's room. He stands outside and...hesitates, and then feels dumb and knocks on the door.
(He'd walk in, but Kalim mentioned changing, so.)]
[ No need to rush. Kalim isn't going anywhere. Jamil doesn't have to scream or run off into the desert. They can do this. They can discuss these things in a reasonable way.
That's Kalim's mantra while he dresses. Adamantine resolve. They can do this. They'll figure this out. They'll come out better on the other side for having worked it out sensibly. It's fine. They're fine.
And that all comes to a screeching halt -- squealing tires and breaking glass in Kalim's mind -- when he finally hears Jamil at the door.
He's dressed down when he answers. No headwrap, no uniforms; just loose pants and a vest. He's still fastening his earrings while the door swings open and he grins at Jamil as if he's not here to either discuss or actively engage in-- whatever they're calling it now. Menagerie safety. ]
Come in! [ It's almost sing-song, and then Kalim heads toward the couch. ]
[It's fine until it's not, and he's suddenly face to face with Kalim, and Jamil's faced with the conflicting urges to throw the tea to the ground and yell at Kalim, versus the sudden need to pin Kalim to the wall and force himself on him.
...he'll blame that on the stress of the day.
Jamil does neither. He follows Kalim in. He quietly curses that Kalim's heading towards the couch which means they'd be sharing a couch instead of two tiny seats, but he heads over like it doesn't bother him. Places the tray with the pot and cups on a table. Pours two cups, and before he can second guess himself, prepares Kalim's cup just the way he knows he likes it.
...and then prepares his cup the same way, which brings up the question as to why he didn't just- feelings are complicated.]
Here.
[One cup for Kalim, and Jamil sits down on the couch like he owns it. What? When in stressful situations like this, one has to establish dominance lest people suspect that you know you don't belong. You just had to...squash down your feelings and carry on casually.
...]
...
[How was he supposed to bring up the menagerie, this is terrible, he has so many things he wants to ask, so many things he wants to say.]
Your tutoring ran late. I was half-wondering if you'd turn in early because of it.
[ The best-kept secret between them, apparently, is that Kalim has never doubted Jamil's belonging. Not once. Jamil has always belonged. He's belonged on Kalim's couch, in Kalim's room, in any room they've ever inhabited together. He's belonged at Kalim's side, and if Kalim regrets a single thing in his life, it's that he was never able to impart that belief to Jamil.
So nothing seems strange about the way Jamil holds himself. Kalim takes the tea with a bright Thank you! and sips quietly while Jamil gets situated. ]
Mmm... [ It's hard to tell if that's a hum of agreement, or if Kalim is just enjoying the tea that much. ] Sorry! I tried to get back as fast as I could, but I didn't want to leave until they were really comfortable with everything. They got it though, so it was time well-spent!
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[ Is avoiding really the word to use? Kalim hasn't been avoiding Jamil. At least, not insofar as avoidance being the intention. Then again, how is one meant to convey intention with something like that?
There's nothing left for Jamil to do here, in any case. Cleaning the forceps and packing away the kit barely eats up a few moments of his time, and then he has to awkwardly meander back to his coconut -- not touching a single thing in between -- while he tries to work out how Jamil's gotten this impression in the first place. ]
I've been trying to do more for myself. I'm learning all the things I never had to do before. I don't want to ask you for help unless I really need it. And I don't expect you to do anything for me anymore. I'm really grateful for what you still do! But--
I know I'm a burden to you. I didn't know I was. But I don't want to be anymore. So I'm trying really hard to make it so you can do what you want to do, and be who you want to be.
Isn't that what you wanted?
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He didn't know. Jamil had boasted about not letting anything hold him back anymore, and yet that it felt like, now that he had taken Kalim and set him aside as an obstacle, that there were a hundred thousand little things that still lay in his way. Things that he hadn't even considered as they (as well as he) had been in Kalim's shadow for years.
And Kalim was racing ahead. Who needed who?]
Well, if you aren't then you aren't.
[He (angrily) chopped up some broccoli, and then weighed protein...there was likely some sausage in the fridge that he could use.]
Yet it's felt like, whenever I offer you my help, you want nothing to do with it. And that it's only gotten worse since the kiss. [See? He can say it.]
Did I disgust you, Kalim?
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[ And there it is, slipping out before Kalim has the good sense to stop it. He liked it. He'd like for it to happen again. He'd like to dance Jamil out to the farthest edges of the world and kiss him deeply in every shadowed corner of it. He wants Jamil by his side, forever and in every imaginable way. He'd give Jamil the whole world, anything and everything he wants, rearrange the stars themselves at his whim, and that's never going to change.
And as far as Kalim can tell, that's the absolute opposite of what Jamil has ever wished for. He hates Kalim. He wants to be away from him, out of his shadow, free of an aide's burden. Equals, rivals, nothing more. If that's what Jamil wants, then Kalim wants that for him too.
But he trusts Jamil. Kalim has always confided in him, and old habits die hard. ]
I know I shouldn't have. I'm trying not to.
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So that was it.
So that was what he had been mad at, this entire time.
He doesn't respond, not right away. What Jamil does is take the things for the bullshit fry and set them aside. He pulls out a pan. He stands there, for a moment, contemplating getting on with cooking, and then carefully walks towards Kalim, taking off one glove as he does so.]
You're right.
[But he doesn't sound...mad, more contemplative. Like they were discussing a fact. Like this isn't about them. This is about the latest thing Azul tried to pull, or the news that Leona was found sleeping in yet another new spot, or Riddle terrorizing his freshmen once more, or something else. Something boring. Mundane. Not about them.]
You shouldn't.
[And then he grabs Kalim's chin and Kalim would be forgiven for thinking that this was the prelude to him using his unique magic, and for one wild, angry moment Jamil considered doing that instead- but hadn't he said he wouldn't back down? That he wouldn't hide? That he'd stand by Kalim as an equal, instead of a servant?
So, instead, Jamil moved in, quick, kissed Kalim, hard, none of the hesitation of the kiss from before, none of the duty, none of the obligation, and while it still might be terrible it had one thing the last kiss lacked, which was passion. Decisiveness.
And then he pulled away as quickly as he had struck.]
If. [Jamil had to force himself to look at Kalim, to ride the wave of whatever had crested, to follow whatever had tipped over inside of him. Jamil had to force himself to stand there like he belonged, to force Kalim to see him, really see him, to not try to slither back into the shadows and hide.] If you're going to dream of a kiss, dream of this one, not...whatever that last one was. I'm better than that.
[...he should get back to cooking, before that whatever broke and he really had to think about the consequences of his actions- oh.]
And don't tell my sister. Or my parents.
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Jamil may as well have hypnotized him. Ordered his lungs to seize up until he just simply expired. It has exactly the same effect, and not a single suffering cell in Kalim's brain will cooperate any longer. This is it. There's no more Kalim. He's checked out.
It must be instinct instead, that has Kalim reaching to cradle Jamil's jaw the moment he draws away again. His hands drift beneath to coax, thumb brushing idly over Jamil's fine cheek bone. That's the only warning Jamil receives, before Kalim guides their lips together again.
It's such a stark contrast to Jamil's kiss. Kalim's mouth is soft and undemanding, plush and generous. It gives as much as it takes, and Kalim swears, for just a moment, that everything in the world is as it should be. ]
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What he hadn't expected was this: Kalim cradling his face like he was something valuable. He hadn't expected Kalim's fingers coaxing him without words to stay, like he was something rare and fleeting. He hadn't expected to be kissed, like he was someone who mattered, like he was someone important, like he was someone who Kalim wanted, needed.
Jamil's eyes widen, his breath catches, he kisses back, of course, he's not thinking, how can he think, he kisses, and tilts his head so he can have a better angle, and his fingers catch Kalim's arm in his own- lightly, his fingers grazing the inside of Kalim's forearm, tracing the edges of Kalim's skin, and Jamil kisses, and kisses, and-
-and then there's a noise. Something crashing. A shout. Something. Jamil pulls back, blinking like a child who had just woken up from a long dream.]
Did you want to kiss me that badly? [Bravado as a mask, confidence as a ruse, said much more breathlessly than he'd like. Jamil said it more confidently than he felt, at least...which really wasn't much of an accomplishment as there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to go to a basketball club meeting right this second as those were stressful, but Floyd and Ace were both really distracting. Really, really distracting. Having basketballs thrown at his head would keep him from having to think too much.
...he didn't want Kalim to answer that.]
I should finish cooking.
no subject
Yes.
[ Breathless, shameless. Yes. Yes, Kalim wanted (wants, full stop) to kiss him that badly. Jamil can be as viciously cocky as he pleases about that fact. Kalim will only reinforce his ego.
Something is happening beyond the kitchen, somewhere in the near distance. Crashing. Yelling. It's not particularly unusual for Scarabian afternoons, but it should give Kalim more pause than it ultimately does. He shouldn't be snatching at Jamil's wrist, squeezing gently at his arm (has his skin always been this soft?), grappling hard with the sudden desire to reel Jamil back in and crush their lips together indefinitely. Not with the stark reminder that other people are so near, that they could be seen, that--
Jamil is pulling away. And that, Kalim firmly reminds himself, is a thing he needs to respect. So instead, he nods, face and eyes all aflame in vastly different ways, and drops Jamil's wrist along with his own gaze. ]
We should, umm-- [ Kalim chews thoughtfully at the inside of his cheek. ] We should discuss the menagerie more. Later. If you... think it warrants more discussion?
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He's blushing. Jamil could feel it.
He's staring at Kalim's lips.
Jamil shouldn't be staring at Kalim's lips.
He could tell he was blushing and staring a little too long at Kalim's lips, but Kalim showed him mercy by dropping his gaze and letting him get back to his bullshit fry flatbread sandwich thing that...Jamil couldn't remember what he was doing with that but he'd figure it out...but then Kalim asks about the menagerie.
Jamil takes a moment to answer. He has to. He's being confronted with the evidence of his mood before (shredded carrots, pulverized onion) and also needs to try to figure out where he had been going with all of this, and on top of that there was everything that just happened. He has to nudge the onion with the tip of a knife, taking in how brutalized everything is.
But, time to do what he can with what he has.]
If we don't, someone might get hurt by a stray elephant.
[It's such a bad lie, but fortunately he has the bullshit fry to keep his hands and eyes busy. In goes the onions.]
And the camels can use more exercise. [In goes the other things, one by one.] The solution seems easy enough - have students ride them around - but I'd worry about the ones unused to camels overdoing things. [This is such a terrible lie, and he knows what discussions about the menagerie really mean, but it's the little lies Jamil has to tell himself (verbally, if not mentally) because otherwise he might crack, track down Floyd, and resort to desperate measures for a distraction as his brain's thinking too hard about this.]
We probably need to discuss the menagerie. A lot.
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He's coming apart, going to pieces. He's melting. This is impossible. This is insane. This means-- This means that Jamil wants to kiss him. Jamil wants to kiss him a lot. Jamil wants him. Jamil doesn't hate him? ]
I-- [ Kalim's voice is trembling. ] Yeah. Please... Um. Could you come to my room after my tutoring? I'd like to. Discuss it a lot, I mean.
[ And truly, Kalim is this close to canceling the tutoring. But he shouldn't shirk his responsibilities just because his wildest dreams are coming true. Right? ]
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If Jamil knew what Kalim was thinking he'd also point out that he could have just as easily meant they needed to talk about whatever had happened between them, at length.
Most likely, though, if Jamil knew what Kalim was thinking he'd make the rest of the bullshit fry flatbread sandwich thing in silence, serve it to Kalim, say something about thinking about it, and fleeing with his hood up to eat his bullshit fry flatbread sandwich in his room with the door locked before resisting the urge to scream into a pillow.
Jamil's not psychic. And he has cooking, which keeps his brain and hands busy. So, he finishes up the bullshit fry, and makes two flatbread sandwiches from it. He exhales.
One is served to Kalim. The other he keeps for his own.]
If I have time.
[Jamil's voice is mostly steady and he's proud of that. There's a slight waver. Nerves. (Excitement?) Not too many people would be able to pick up on it. (Unfortunately, one of the few people in Night Raven College who reliably might be able to is Kalim who's right there.)
Actually, he's going to get a fresh coconut for himself. Because the ramifications of discussing the menagerie with Kalim are hitting him again.]
As you reminded me, I have studying of my own to do. That said...I doubt it will take that long. But you should worry about your own tutoring before you make plans with others, housewarden.
[Because Kalim's housewarden and has responsibilities and okay maybe took two tries for him to cut a good enough hole in the coconut but that's perfectly normal, yes?]
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Some outside perspective on this would be great. But who is Kalim supposed to turn to, when he's promised not to tell anyone? Silver? Lilia? Maybe if he's vague enough, they won't cotton onto who he's talking about. But that seems like a stretch; possible for Silver, but Lilia would know right away. He probably already knows, somehow. He just knows things sometimes. It's scary.
So if he can't turn to anyone else, the obvious solution is simply to talk to Jamil about it. Not now, clearly. Later, whenever Jamil decides he's ready, and from the sound of things, that may not be tonight, but-- ]
Mm... Okay. I'll text you when I'm finished tutoring, and you can come by if you're finished too. If you want to.
[ And that's the moment Kalim decides -- firmly and with no room whatsoever for doubt -- that he won't kiss Jamil again, unless Jamil kisses him first. ]
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If you want to.
-Jamil's ass misses the stool and he nearly falls to the ground, but it's okay. It's okay. Everyone gets uncoordinated moments every now and again, yes? This happens to everyone. Perfectly normal. Happens to people all the time. And, as he neither spilled the sandwich...of sorts...nor the coconut, it's fine, yes, perfectly normal.]
Uh.
[Perfectly normal.]
Yes.
Of course.
[He's absolutely going to 'accidentally' text Kalim halfway through that tutoring session with a picture of something-or-another he thought Kalim might like to make sure Kalim texts him when he's done, but yes, perfectly normal.]
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It must be perplexing for the freshmen Kalim is tutoring. He's good at masking a great deal behind his smile and laughter, but he nearly drops his phone into a cauldron when Jamil's text hits his inbox, and it's only two hours, but time seems to absolutely crawl from that point forward. Kalim's brain is overclocking. He could swear it's on fire. Will Jamil even come tonight? Will they kiss again? Why did Jamil kiss him like that in the first place? Did he want to? Does he want to? Is this more obligation?
To that end, even when Kalim is finally back in his room -- freshmen successfully tutored -- it takes quite some time before he finally texts Jamil back. An agonizingly long time, perched on his couch, staring at his phone, mulling over the increasingly attractive option of finding some poisoned kefta so he has a hospital-bed-sized excuse to avoid this conversation. But in the end, Kalim slaps at both sides of his face, puffs out his chest, and snatches up his phone to message Jamil: ]
I'm back!
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Welcome back.
[Jamil texts this as if he hadn't been lying on his bed staring at his ceiling for the last twenty minutes, wondering if Kalim's going to text or not, completely and totally failing to study, his mind a blur, dimly aware that there was something-or-another he could be doing to keep busy, not able to think of a thing, contemplating just grabbing his phone, some earbuds, and a quiet place where he could mindlessly practice dancing, and then the text came and he knocked his textbook to the floor in his hurry to sit up.
It wasn't Ace.
Or Floyd.
Or Trey.
It was Kalim.]
Did it go well?
[He will ask The Question in a second, right now he needs to ease into calm.]
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[ And now they're dancing around the subject. Kalim can't reliably say that his heart has ever sunk before. It's come close a few times -- and every single one of them involved Jamil -- and it's nearly there now. It's a wonder how Jamil manages this, inspires such despair that it almost shakes the most optimistic boy on the planet. But then, every cloud has its silver lining. ]
I'm glad you showed me that trick last year. They might have failed their next exam without it!
[ Silver linings. Like, for instance, the fact that Jamil answered him at all. And relatively quickly, at that. It all counts for something! Probably something good. Kalim will decide when the night is over. ]
How has your studying gone?
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[It went well up until the point in which Jamil sent Kalim that text, the one of a picture of something he thought Kalim would like, after which it went badly, but...that still meant he got in a solid hour of studying before he stared at various things and contemplated his life. Could be worse.
It's fine.
He could stop dancing around the subject.]
Hey, Kalim.
[Okay, so maybe he can't. After a moment he sends him a video of some sea otters. Because one cannot type 'hey, Kalim' without following up on that somehow.]
Apparently, I heard Floyd call you otter one too many times, but this made me think of you.
[Anyway, Jamil's getting up to head to the kitchen as Kalim must be thirsty after that marathon long tutoring session (it really did take a long time) so he could probably appreciate a refreshing drink of some kind, yes?]
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!!! Look at their little faces! They're adorable!
Hahaha undercover otterbot! The most endearing little spy!
[ Nonsense. It's absolute nonsense and it's flying out of Kalim's fingers faster than he can think to stop it. Maybe that's why he doesn't hesitate to send the next (even though he probably should. ]
Are you in for the night? Or are you still coming over?
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Fuck.]
I'm thirsty so I was going to get a drink before I came over. I'm in the kitchen. Do you want anything while I'm here?
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[ There is. They keep loose leaf stocked in the kitchens, imported from the only vendor at Camel Bazaar that Kalim ever orders from. He might even drink it, but more than that, holding a teacup is something to do with his hands while he's trying not to touch Jamil. ]
With a little honey and clove?
[ Not that Jamil doesn't know how Kalim likes his tea by now, but assumptions are what got them into this mess in the first place. ]
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[Just a few minutes of him staring at the pot and wondering what it is that he's doing, that's all, that's it, no big deal.
A Scarabian student is about to walk into the kitchen, sees Jamil, and just walks out again as the vice housewarden is in a mood. Jamil doesn't notice any of this as he's too busy staring at his phone.]
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[ Trying to change out of his lab things, anyway. It's hard to make headway when he keeps diving back for his phone every time a notification chimes. Just in case it's Jamil. It feels important not to keep him waiting right now. ]
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It's taking forever to boil.
[Has it always been this long? He doesn't know. But Jamil prepares the tea, gets honey and clove, takes a deep breath, resists the urge to scream, is consumed by the sudden need to fill the sink with water, stick his head into the water, and scream. (The water muffles his noise, see?)
He does not scream. He also does not run off into the desert to avoid this. He steels himself, takes the tray with the tea, and two teacups, and heads over to Kalim's room. He stands outside and...hesitates, and then feels dumb and knocks on the door.
(He'd walk in, but Kalim mentioned changing, so.)]
Kalim, it's me.
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[ No need to rush. Kalim isn't going anywhere. Jamil doesn't have to scream or run off into the desert. They can do this. They can discuss these things in a reasonable way.
That's Kalim's mantra while he dresses. Adamantine resolve. They can do this. They'll figure this out. They'll come out better on the other side for having worked it out sensibly. It's fine. They're fine.
And that all comes to a screeching halt -- squealing tires and breaking glass in Kalim's mind -- when he finally hears Jamil at the door.
He's dressed down when he answers. No headwrap, no uniforms; just loose pants and a vest. He's still fastening his earrings while the door swings open and he grins at Jamil as if he's not here to either discuss or actively engage in-- whatever they're calling it now. Menagerie safety. ]
Come in! [ It's almost sing-song, and then Kalim heads toward the couch. ]
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...he'll blame that on the stress of the day.
Jamil does neither. He follows Kalim in. He quietly curses that Kalim's heading towards the couch which means they'd be sharing a couch instead of two tiny seats, but he heads over like it doesn't bother him. Places the tray with the pot and cups on a table. Pours two cups, and before he can second guess himself, prepares Kalim's cup just the way he knows he likes it.
...and then prepares his cup the same way, which brings up the question as to why he didn't just- feelings are complicated.]
Here.
[One cup for Kalim, and Jamil sits down on the couch like he owns it. What? When in stressful situations like this, one has to establish dominance lest people suspect that you know you don't belong. You just had to...squash down your feelings and carry on casually.
...]
...
[How was he supposed to bring up the menagerie, this is terrible, he has so many things he wants to ask, so many things he wants to say.]
Your tutoring ran late. I was half-wondering if you'd turn in early because of it.
[Look, an icebreaker.]
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So nothing seems strange about the way Jamil holds himself. Kalim takes the tea with a bright Thank you! and sips quietly while Jamil gets situated. ]
Mmm... [ It's hard to tell if that's a hum of agreement, or if Kalim is just enjoying the tea that much. ] Sorry! I tried to get back as fast as I could, but I didn't want to leave until they were really comfortable with everything. They got it though, so it was time well-spent!
[ Another sip. ]
Were you hoping I'd turn in early because of it?
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in which kalim finally pours his heart out
this is going to determine how lucky Kalim gets later on lmf choose wisely Kalim
AND WHAT IF HE JUST SIMPLY CHOOSES *NOTHING*
ME, WALKING OF SHAME BACK TO THIS deets later much has happened
tell me!
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