[ There's a part of him that desperately wants to keep his eyes meeting Alhaitham's, that feels it's cowardly to turn away from what's happening right now, even in something as small as closing his eyes. But he can't quite help it; the sensation of the other man's thumb trailing up along his skin is electric in a way that he dizzily wonders for a moment if somehow he got a second Vision, as impossible as that might usually be. ]
You— [ a pause, because his tongue feels thick in his mouth ] —you became a damn hero.
[ Fingers against another bruise marring his neck, and his breath hitches.
Alhaitham's always been attractive, and Kaveh has never had a problem admitting as much— never to the scribe's face of course, that would be a little too thirsty even for him, but to others amongst whom the topic has come up in discussion. The problem the architect has with him has always been two-fold: one, his tendency to put logic and science ahead of art and beauty; two, a nature bordering on selfish, putting himself and his desires ahead of the greater good.
And then he had to go and save Sumeru— possibly all of Teyvat— and unwind the second of those issues.
And then was the dream, an awkward shuffle to the baths on waking, and pictures doomed to repeat themselves over and over: his reflection in one of Alhaitham's chisel-light mirrors, fucked-out and ecstatic, fingers digging into bedsheets doomed to tear under his grip as his hips arch in response to firm, solid thrusts—
He can't say all of that, though.
The problem is, he's not entirely sure how to continue explaining it from here. ]
no subject
You— [ a pause, because his tongue feels thick in his mouth ] —you became a damn hero.
[ Fingers against another bruise marring his neck, and his breath hitches.
Alhaitham's always been attractive, and Kaveh has never had a problem admitting as much— never to the scribe's face of course, that would be a little too thirsty even for him, but to others amongst whom the topic has come up in discussion. The problem the architect has with him has always been two-fold: one, his tendency to put logic and science ahead of art and beauty; two, a nature bordering on selfish, putting himself and his desires ahead of the greater good.
And then he had to go and save Sumeru— possibly all of Teyvat— and unwind the second of those issues.
And then was the dream, an awkward shuffle to the baths on waking, and pictures doomed to repeat themselves over and over: his reflection in one of Alhaitham's chisel-light mirrors, fucked-out and ecstatic, fingers digging into bedsheets doomed to tear under his grip as his hips arch in response to firm, solid thrusts—
He can't say all of that, though.
The problem is, he's not entirely sure how to continue explaining it from here. ]