You suppose you could fit that in? [ It's said with a huff, and Kaveh's arms unwind from around Alhaitham's neck and push aside the hand resting on his hip because what a jerk— not really, it's because he has to tend to the pan, but if the scribe asks it's definitely because he's a jerk— turning to the stove but staying close, enjoying if nothing else the feel of that firm chest against the line of his back. ]

Don't worry about my door, though~ I can fix it myself. [ While his job technically involves only the theoretical aspects of building, the light of Kshahrewar takes a lot of pride in his designs and isn't exactly a stranger to the concept of getting his hands dirty in order to get something just right. ] I'll just get some stuff from my office after the weekend. It's okay if it's broken until then.

[ (If this had turned out any other way, he probably would have been a little more on edge about his privacy being completely removed by a single kick, but right now? He doesn't mind so much.) ]

I still can't quite believe you kicked it in, you know. [ And maybe two can play at that game— at the teasing— Kaveh thinks, and he does his job, checks the bread briefly before turning back to the other man— he's doing a bad job at staying focused, but he's trying his best. His head is tilted in something akin to curiosity, although the smug little curve of his lips no doubt gives the game away as this time, his fingers reach to skate light across the hard line of the other's jaw. ] You were really jealous, huh?

[ As muddled as the memory is, one thing that shines clearly through is the fury burning behind those emerald eyes, the possessive grip of Alhaitham's hands on his shoulders, the low commanding voice insisting that Kaveh should be his.

The shiver that passes through him is visceral.

Ugh. He needs a better poker face. ]