[ For every argument that Alhaitham makes against his own participation being something special, Kaveh has a retort stored up in reply, a reminder that nothing he did was necessary, that there were others who could have helped in his stead, that he's been named 'hero' and asked repeatedly to be Grand Sage for a reason— even if the architect himself is usually quick to state that he himself would make a better sage than his introverted, surly roommate.
But the other is right in musing that it can't simply be that has triggered Kaveh's want for his attention. Of course there's more to it than that: realization, new knowledge that even the blonde is only just starting to unravel for himself, an awakening of something that triggered something else that he hasn't dared mention aloud.
(Although from the way Alhaitham's fingers take his chin and tilt it, from the dark hunger that flickers across his face for a split second— and sending a delighted shiver down Kaveh's spine in turn— he's starting to wonder if maybe he should. It's a thought chased away though by the reminder of the fact that this could just be something passing on the other's part, something driven by the jealousy and not by whatever new feeling Kaveh has discovered in the depths of his own chest.)
Being unable to look away leaves him with only a single defense: to close his eyes, and under the circumstances when he can feel as well as hear every word the scribe speaks, he's not sure that's a smart idea. So he matches the other's gaze as best as he can, trying to keep his breathing even, his brows narrowing at the comment— not out of anger, but rather a hint of bafflement over once again not quite knowing what to say. After all, Alhaitham has already left him speechless so many times this morning alone, and the feeling of fingers against his skin is doing nothing to help.
And really, there's nothing more for him to say, either. The taller man has already hit the nail on the head with his reasoning— or lack thereof, the choice to swan around as he did made in a single, rash moment— and he's nowhere near ready enough to share the rest of it, the extra truth that Alhaitham already knows is there.
But he has to say something. Right? ]
Like you said... I didn't think about it.
[ But it's not enough. No matter which way he looks at it... ]
...Fuck this.
[ Even with the scribe's hand holding his chin in place, they're near enough that he's able to close the gap— and so he does exactly that, an insistent press of his mouth that fits their lips together. And just like that, Kaveh knows he's made a move now that he can't return from, because Alhaitham tastes like something he not only wants, but needs—
And he's half-expecting even now for the other to pull away, to put an end to it before it's even begun. ]
no subject
But the other is right in musing that it can't simply be that has triggered Kaveh's want for his attention. Of course there's more to it than that: realization, new knowledge that even the blonde is only just starting to unravel for himself, an awakening of something that triggered something else that he hasn't dared mention aloud.
(Although from the way Alhaitham's fingers take his chin and tilt it, from the dark hunger that flickers across his face for a split second— and sending a delighted shiver down Kaveh's spine in turn— he's starting to wonder if maybe he should. It's a thought chased away though by the reminder of the fact that this could just be something passing on the other's part, something driven by the jealousy and not by whatever new feeling Kaveh has discovered in the depths of his own chest.)
Being unable to look away leaves him with only a single defense: to close his eyes, and under the circumstances when he can feel as well as hear every word the scribe speaks, he's not sure that's a smart idea. So he matches the other's gaze as best as he can, trying to keep his breathing even, his brows narrowing at the comment— not out of anger, but rather a hint of bafflement over once again not quite knowing what to say. After all, Alhaitham has already left him speechless so many times this morning alone, and the feeling of fingers against his skin is doing nothing to help.
And really, there's nothing more for him to say, either. The taller man has already hit the nail on the head with his reasoning— or lack thereof, the choice to swan around as he did made in a single, rash moment— and he's nowhere near ready enough to share the rest of it, the extra truth that Alhaitham already knows is there.
But he has to say something. Right? ]
Like you said... I didn't think about it.
[ But it's not enough. No matter which way he looks at it... ]
...Fuck this.
[ Even with the scribe's hand holding his chin in place, they're near enough that he's able to close the gap— and so he does exactly that, an insistent press of his mouth that fits their lips together. And just like that, Kaveh knows he's made a move now that he can't return from, because Alhaitham tastes like something he not only wants, but needs—
And he's half-expecting even now for the other to pull away, to put an end to it before it's even begun. ]