[ With what little functioning brainpower he has left, Kaveh is torn; he wants half to summon the strength needed to lean up, close the space between their lips and kiss Alhaitham soundly once more, but wants half to stay where he is, half-lidded eyes fixed on the other man's face, taking pleasure in the somehow-steady intensity written over that expression.
He settles in the end for extending the connection between them; Kaveh's free hand drops from the touch he's kept at Alhaitham's cheek, the need driving him more than conscious thought as his fingers seek out his lover's shoulder and skim over muscled biceps, the sinewy forearms, finding the large hand curled into the sheets and wrapping around it, a vague attempt to tangle their fingers together.
The other hand stays wrapped tight around his base, trying to stave off the pressure he can feel building, growing more and more unbearable with each and every movement the younger man makes, each choked off sound that reaches his ears—
and Kaveh wants to tell Alhaitham to use his voice, to let him hear him, but his lips are already parting in answer to the scribe's demands, the words molten in his spine, words broken by gasps made in response to the growing speed and irregularity of Alhaitham's movements. ]
I've— so many nights— lost sleep, dreaming... fucking myself and pretending it was— fuck, Alhaitham, you're... you're big, can't ever— can't match this myself, no one else, you're the only— I need... I love— I—
[ He cuts himself off with a sharp, keening moan, a sound almost anguished as orgasm takes him despite the attempt he's made to prevent it, body arching sharply as his muscles tense for that singular moment before he falls completely apart; and despite himself his eyes fall shut, ragged breaths ghosting over his lips, body twitching and trembling.
Conscious thought is something of which he's currently not capable, but later he'll be left to wonder at the power by which he's been so thoroughly taken apart. ]
no subject
He settles in the end for extending the connection between them; Kaveh's free hand drops from the touch he's kept at Alhaitham's cheek, the need driving him more than conscious thought as his fingers seek out his lover's shoulder and skim over muscled biceps, the sinewy forearms, finding the large hand curled into the sheets and wrapping around it, a vague attempt to tangle their fingers together.
The other hand stays wrapped tight around his base, trying to stave off the pressure he can feel building, growing more and more unbearable with each and every movement the younger man makes, each choked off sound that reaches his ears—
and Kaveh wants to tell Alhaitham to use his voice, to let him hear him, but his lips are already parting in answer to the scribe's demands, the words molten in his spine, words broken by gasps made in response to the growing speed and irregularity of Alhaitham's movements. ]
I've— so many nights— lost sleep, dreaming... fucking myself and pretending it was— fuck, Alhaitham, you're... you're big, can't ever— can't match this myself, no one else, you're the only— I need... I love— I—
[ He cuts himself off with a sharp, keening moan, a sound almost anguished as orgasm takes him despite the attempt he's made to prevent it, body arching sharply as his muscles tense for that singular moment before he falls completely apart; and despite himself his eyes fall shut, ragged breaths ghosting over his lips, body twitching and trembling.
Conscious thought is something of which he's currently not capable, but later he'll be left to wonder at the power by which he's been so thoroughly taken apart. ]