[ Lately, Kaveh feels as if he's been living in an alternate dimension. He's got money in his pockets for one— a reasonable amount of it too, the first payment for his new job. But perhaps more distinct is the discomfort of the aloneness that seems to have come hand in hand with it. He's busier, of course, which means that he sees his roommate less than normal, but over the course of the week the architect has come to realize that Alhaitham is going so far as to actively avoid him. He's home less than usual— and Kaveh knows he's not working— and when he is, he's locked in his rooms.
It makes him feel sick, and that horrid feeling of being used only resurfaces again and again. Something about their encounter was apparently enough for Alhaitham's ego— Or did Kaveh overplay his hand and make his feelings clearer than he intended, and scare him off? Neither is a particularly nice possibility, which is why, cash in hand and finished early for the day, he finds himself tonight at a tavern, drunk on a sweet wine and looking for someone with whom to spend the rest of his night.
(And perhaps he could have found a more productive use of his time, but earlier this week when he tried that, Kaveh found himself sketching nude self-portraits, marking out every bite the other man left on his skin that night.)
Last time he made a "friend" at the bar, it was the most delicate flower of a girl he could find, someone as far removed from Alhaitham as he could manage from among the patrons who showed interest in him. He'd been trying, in his own twisted way, to get the scribe out of his head in any way he possibly could, and she'd been a good choice in that regard.
(Although he'd be mortified to know how much she knows of Alhaitham now, given his drunken mouth barely stopped moving between kisses to complain after the other man.)
The person who follows Kaveh through the door of Alhaitham's house tonight, though, is nothing like her. He's tall and broad, a dark expression worn on a strong face; his deep-throated chuckle echoes through the silence of the house before Kaveh drags him into his bedroom and slams the door shut behind them. And from there, it's just a matter of Kaveh being certain to make his lyrical, pleasured moans loud, louder than normal, loud enough that they'll be heard in whichever part of the house Alhaitham is currently sitting.
Maybe like this, the scribe will finally look at him. ]
no subject
It makes him feel sick, and that horrid feeling of being used only resurfaces again and again. Something about their encounter was apparently enough for Alhaitham's ego— Or did Kaveh overplay his hand and make his feelings clearer than he intended, and scare him off? Neither is a particularly nice possibility, which is why, cash in hand and finished early for the day, he finds himself tonight at a tavern, drunk on a sweet wine and looking for someone with whom to spend the rest of his night.
(And perhaps he could have found a more productive use of his time, but earlier this week when he tried that, Kaveh found himself sketching nude self-portraits, marking out every bite the other man left on his skin that night.)
Last time he made a "friend" at the bar, it was the most delicate flower of a girl he could find, someone as far removed from Alhaitham as he could manage from among the patrons who showed interest in him. He'd been trying, in his own twisted way, to get the scribe out of his head in any way he possibly could, and she'd been a good choice in that regard.
(Although he'd be mortified to know how much she knows of Alhaitham now, given his drunken mouth barely stopped moving between kisses to complain after the other man.)
The person who follows Kaveh through the door of Alhaitham's house tonight, though, is nothing like her. He's tall and broad, a dark expression worn on a strong face; his deep-throated chuckle echoes through the silence of the house before Kaveh drags him into his bedroom and slams the door shut behind them. And from there, it's just a matter of Kaveh being certain to make his lyrical, pleasured moans loud, louder than normal, loud enough that they'll be heard in whichever part of the house Alhaitham is currently sitting.
Maybe like this, the scribe will finally look at him. ]