[ Every part of Kaveh's brain is practically dying to offer a smart-ass answer to the insult levied at his strength. But he's otherwise distracted— and then soundly silenced in his efforts when Alhaitham proves his strength, an effortless movement and then suddenly Kaveh is the one with his back against the mattress, his shoulders pinned and his hips caged by the other man's thighs.
(Silenced in his efforts, but not voice; there's a definite yelp as he's flipped downward, and then a shaky exhale when the grasp of his chin guides him to meet the inscrutable glint in those emerald eyes more directly than he may have otherwise.)
Kaveh reaches, his arms circling Alhaitham's lower back, fingers splaying across the broad expanse of muscle. ]
That's a lot of assumption for someone likes to deal in facts, [ he rasps out, filling the gaps between Alhaitham's words with a voice breathier than he would like— but to be fair, how can he help it when he's being looked at like that, like the scribe is about to kiss the life out of him? ] Perhaps it would behoove you to investigate and find answers, rather than simply— guess—?
[ The last syllable of his speech comes out more whimper than word when he feels the scribe's heated breath against his ear, his body answering the sensation with a tremble running down through his spine. His eyes close, and it's a mistake because it lets him hear Alhaitham's whispered words more clearly, enhances the impact of that emphasizing bite, and his answer before he can recover himself is naught more than a hitch of his breath, a tremble of his fingers across the small of the other man's back.
It's unfair, how easy it is for Alhaitham to reduce him to this.
Still, he wouldn't be him if he didn't have an answer stored up for that question, and so when he recovers enough to think, his eyes blink back open, fingers trailing up Alhaitham's back to the nape of his neck, threading through his hair. ]
Maybe it is. [ His gaze slides to the side, looking at the scribe as well as their position allows. How does he explain how attractive it is— how does he even begin to explain why it's attractive in the first place? ] You said I should be yours— Knowing you would tear down the house to prove it— to keep me—
[ He chuckles, a breathless sound. ]
You're the one person I can't figure out, but seeing you angry like that, I felt like I'd gotten beneath the surface, at least a little bit. [ He pauses, eyes twinkling with mirth despite the gentle sweetness of the words having just left his lips. ] Also, it's kind of hot when you go all spinokrok-brain.
no subject
(Silenced in his efforts, but not voice; there's a definite yelp as he's flipped downward, and then a shaky exhale when the grasp of his chin guides him to meet the inscrutable glint in those emerald eyes more directly than he may have otherwise.)
Kaveh reaches, his arms circling Alhaitham's lower back, fingers splaying across the broad expanse of muscle. ]
That's a lot of assumption for someone likes to deal in facts, [ he rasps out, filling the gaps between Alhaitham's words with a voice breathier than he would like— but to be fair, how can he help it when he's being looked at like that, like the scribe is about to kiss the life out of him? ] Perhaps it would behoove you to investigate and find answers, rather than simply— guess—?
[ The last syllable of his speech comes out more whimper than word when he feels the scribe's heated breath against his ear, his body answering the sensation with a tremble running down through his spine. His eyes close, and it's a mistake because it lets him hear Alhaitham's whispered words more clearly, enhances the impact of that emphasizing bite, and his answer before he can recover himself is naught more than a hitch of his breath, a tremble of his fingers across the small of the other man's back.
It's unfair, how easy it is for Alhaitham to reduce him to this.
Still, he wouldn't be him if he didn't have an answer stored up for that question, and so when he recovers enough to think, his eyes blink back open, fingers trailing up Alhaitham's back to the nape of his neck, threading through his hair. ]
Maybe it is. [ His gaze slides to the side, looking at the scribe as well as their position allows. How does he explain how attractive it is— how does he even begin to explain why it's attractive in the first place? ] You said I should be yours— Knowing you would tear down the house to prove it— to keep me—
[ He chuckles, a breathless sound. ]
You're the one person I can't figure out, but seeing you angry like that, I felt like I'd gotten beneath the surface, at least a little bit. [ He pauses, eyes twinkling with mirth despite the gentle sweetness of the words having just left his lips. ] Also, it's kind of hot when you go all spinokrok-brain.