[ the response he gets to his statement is more than satisfying, the breathy groan half-smothered by their kiss such a wanton sound that it almost makes alhaitham forget himself, what his current task was, what he needed to focus on (which should be not making a mess, but the scribe doesn't give a shit at this point). on the contrary, making a mess seems very desirable at the moment, especially if it's making one of the blonde pressed flush against him, all hooded eyes, hitched breath and blushed skin.
the pure filth their kisses had devolved into coupled with the fact that kaveh is - as always - a frustratingly attractive vision dimly reminds alhaitham that his restraint is dissolving, especially as the architect's hands travel over his body, across muscle, fingers and the edge of nails digging in all the same. the desire this entire evening had evoked was pooling dangerously at his core to point it was getting hard to control, and every time a moan escapes kaveh's kiss-swollen lips, it serves to drag alhaitham just a little closer to the edge.
for a man whose actions were normally rigid, considered, purposeful, his motions have more of a raw, instinctual edge to them as the scribe manages to manipulate the vial in his hand well enough to slick both his fingers and his own length in hastened movements, the glass bottle then tossed carelessly towards the night-stand next to the bed. sharing much the same fate as the vase out in the hallway, it rolls off and clatters noisily against the floor, the shrill sound falling on deaf ears as alhaitham soundly kisses his partner once again.
the action is timed exactly with his digits gently entering kaveh, his touch gentle and much slower, much more measured than anything else he'd done in the last half an hour - because for the impulsive desire to forge straight ahead, it's leagues more important that the other is treated properly, with respect, with care, with affection.
alhaitham knows he's still rusty at the last quantifier, but as his knees dig into the mattress either side of kaveh, as his fingers slowly, methodically work him in a way that's pleasure first and functionality second; he idly hopes that the blonde still sees it anyway. ]
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the pure filth their kisses had devolved into coupled with the fact that kaveh is - as always - a frustratingly attractive vision dimly reminds alhaitham that his restraint is dissolving, especially as the architect's hands travel over his body, across muscle, fingers and the edge of nails digging in all the same. the desire this entire evening had evoked was pooling dangerously at his core to point it was getting hard to control, and every time a moan escapes kaveh's kiss-swollen lips, it serves to drag alhaitham just a little closer to the edge.
for a man whose actions were normally rigid, considered, purposeful, his motions have more of a raw, instinctual edge to them as the scribe manages to manipulate the vial in his hand well enough to slick both his fingers and his own length in hastened movements, the glass bottle then tossed carelessly towards the night-stand next to the bed. sharing much the same fate as the vase out in the hallway, it rolls off and clatters noisily against the floor, the shrill sound falling on deaf ears as alhaitham soundly kisses his partner once again.
the action is timed exactly with his digits gently entering kaveh, his touch gentle and much slower, much more measured than anything else he'd done in the last half an hour - because for the impulsive desire to forge straight ahead, it's leagues more important that the other is treated properly, with respect, with care, with affection.
alhaitham knows he's still rusty at the last quantifier, but as his knees dig into the mattress either side of kaveh, as his fingers slowly, methodically work him in a way that's pleasure first and functionality second; he idly hopes that the blonde still sees it anyway. ]