[ alhaitham doesn't flinch or open his eyes as kaveh moves or a deft finger maps the angles of his face, the blonde's touch as graceful as every other part of him and something he's going to selfishly enjoy as much as he was relishing the rare luxury of being back in bed while the sun was still up.

he does, however, crack them open at the soft jab if only to shoot kaveh a withering look at the statement. the efficacy is unfortunately (?) reduced by the firm kiss that follows it, every bit as earnest and pure as the man on top of him.

it's really hard to be sore while on the receiving end of such a thing, really. ]

There's no substance to such an inquiry. [ the scribe mumbles contrarily against kaveh's mouth, voice a low rumble. ] In both cases, it was simply the most convenient thing to do.

[ which is absolutely not true, considering the significant effort it had taken him to kick the door in last night, but he had an image to maintain and he'd maintain it.

despite the fact that kaveh had shifted around in his arms to face him, alhaitham still keeps him held close as one hand moves lazily down the dip of his spine. his fingers are none of the light finesse of the architect's; instead his touch is purposeful, steady, strong - much like the kiss he returns as his eyes slip closed again.

an idyllic saturday? ]

I've never known you to run out of demands, but there's a first time for everything.

[ wry humour is weaved into his words, the comfortable push-and-pull they'd shared since they'd met. ]