[ There's another warm feeling of relief, certainly, in response to Alhaitham's words, the reassurance that he had no real intent of kicking Kaveh out; but it's displaced very quickly by the almost-admission of jealousy, the envy that flashes briefly across his face, and he finds himself smiling a littleโ feeling, despite everything, a little smug at how easily he was able to get under the other's skin.
Maybe he's not the only one who's been an idiot about this whole thing.
Still, Alhaitham is answering his question, and Kaveh's polite enough for once to let him finishing, listening the whole way through before responding, and there's a tiny bit of indignant heat in his voice when he does: ]
I don't want you to be the typical 'date' I pick up. I told you... I care about you more than that.
[ Perhaps it's for that reason that the answer to Alhaitham's questions is something simple. (And he tries really, really hard not to focus on the possessiveness in the scribe's words, on the feel of that thumb against the pale skin of his neck, on the roiling wash of arousal that they work together to pour into his blood.) What he needs...
He finds himself shuffling in a step closer, both hands coming up to the scribe's chest nowโ the modesty of the covers forgotten as they fall to the floor, leaving him once again utterly naked in front of the other man, his eyes alight with a bright, raw honesty. ]
It wouldn't be fair of me to force a commitment on you. [ And maybe he's being just a little obtuse as well, because everything in the scribe's words and actions says that he has feelings for Kaveh tooโ everything but actual verbal confirmation, that is. But after the mess that has been the last few weeks, it feels better to him be safe than sorry, to take what is rather than what he longs for.
(Then again, perhaps there's a lesson to be learned here about just speaking up and saying what you want, but sometimes drunk Kaveh is stupid.) ]
Just... tell me. [ His rich voice is huskier than normal, heart hammering in his chest as the fingers of one hand curl into the fabric of the scribe's shirt, as the other wanders up over his chest and to his throat, caressing the skin. ] Tell me all of that. That you don't want me to be with anyone else. That you want to be the only one for me.
[ And he moves again, alcohol-stained lips pressing over the space on Alhaitham's jaw where he once left a bruise. ]
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Maybe he's not the only one who's been an idiot about this whole thing.
Still, Alhaitham is answering his question, and Kaveh's polite enough for once to let him finishing, listening the whole way through before responding, and there's a tiny bit of indignant heat in his voice when he does: ]
I don't want you to be the typical 'date' I pick up. I told you... I care about you more than that.
[ Perhaps it's for that reason that the answer to Alhaitham's questions is something simple. (And he tries really, really hard not to focus on the possessiveness in the scribe's words, on the feel of that thumb against the pale skin of his neck, on the roiling wash of arousal that they work together to pour into his blood.) What he needs...
He finds himself shuffling in a step closer, both hands coming up to the scribe's chest nowโ the modesty of the covers forgotten as they fall to the floor, leaving him once again utterly naked in front of the other man, his eyes alight with a bright, raw honesty. ]
It wouldn't be fair of me to force a commitment on you. [ And maybe he's being just a little obtuse as well, because everything in the scribe's words and actions says that he has feelings for Kaveh tooโ everything but actual verbal confirmation, that is. But after the mess that has been the last few weeks, it feels better to him be safe than sorry, to take what is rather than what he longs for.
(Then again, perhaps there's a lesson to be learned here about just speaking up and saying what you want, but sometimes drunk Kaveh is stupid.) ]
Just... tell me. [ His rich voice is huskier than normal, heart hammering in his chest as the fingers of one hand curl into the fabric of the scribe's shirt, as the other wanders up over his chest and to his throat, caressing the skin. ] Tell me all of that. That you don't want me to be with anyone else. That you want to be the only one for me.
[ And he moves again, alcohol-stained lips pressing over the space on Alhaitham's jaw where he once left a bruise. ]
That's enough for now.