[ It is, at the very least, a quiet that doesn't last for long. The expression implying he's asking stupid questions, yet another battery of queries to follow it, not to mention the tired irritation on Alhaitham's face that speaks to the fact that maybe he didn't sleep too well himself, and the architect doesn't know what to think anymore, despite the strange little thread of hope just moments before.
Perhaps it's dramatic, the way he suddenly stands from the couch and starts pacing in front of it, but Kaveh's always been one for a little bit of drama, and as much as there's a small part of his brain telling him he should show some restraint, let the other man rest, he can't quite stop his own irritation from driving the conversation forward. ]
Not everything can be helped by talking it through, Alhaitham. Has it occurred to you that maybe getting "jumped", as you so charmingly put it, is the kind of help I needed in that moment?
[ None of this, of course, explains the deliberate choice to flaunt himself this morning. Although the conversation does have him feeling oddly self-conscious, and Kaveh frowns yet more deeply, both hands reaching to try to tug his shirt into something of a more presentable state. ]
What would you have had me do? Bend myself over your desk and ask nicely for you to please fuck me until I wasn't thinking about it anymore?
[ ...Why does he feel like that's a question he's going to regret later? ]
[ opening his eyes again at the sound of fabric shifting to see kaveh getting up and begin pacing the floor in front of the couch like a protagonist in a mystery thriller novel, alhaitham immediately, intensely regrets the direction this 'discussion' seemed to have taken.
but this was what they did, wasn't it? smooth things over only to immediately fuck them up again? irritated, alhaitham frowns at the suggestion that what kaveh said was reasonable by any measure. ]
Right. You're telling me that the help you needed, for a problem so major you ended up punching me in the face over - was that you needed to get laid? While you were so drunk you could barely walk? Are you serious?
[ his tone is incredulous now, because kaveh isn't making any sense and even when he's in the most heated phases of his rants, at least he could rely on the fact that there was probably something substantial in there somewhere. the other was thoughtful and famously intelligent, so why is his logic so distorted right now?
- and then, he drops the other bomb.
subconsciously, alhaitham tenses up, a look of shock crossing his face for the briefest of moments before it quickly rearranged into a perplexed sort of scowl. that kind of phrase coming out of kaveh's mouth, in that charmingly musical voice of his, directed at him - it obviously twinged something inside the scribe visibly, perceptibly. it sparked an unfamiliar thrill deep inside him, set a fire burning that would easily spiral out of control, and for a moment, he considers simply fulfilling the demand.
suddenly, the fatigue is relatively forgotten and the tenuous peace between them is shattered, one of alhaitham's hands curling in on itself to try and meter his feelings as he draws himself decisively up from the sofa. the reactive, raw part of him wants to ask unreasonable things right back, like 'what the fuck kind of question is that' - but the placidity somehow wins out.
he doesn't know what kaveh's doing, but he would not let him get under his skin for a third time.
they're close again, much like they'd been the previous night during their last argument, alhaitham glowering down at the other. ]
I'd choose what you're going to say next very carefully. I'm not a toy to be played with.
[ He's met with a roll of his eyes, an irritated little huff that says Alhaitham has it all wrong. For someone as astute as the scribe is, his emotional intelligence is lacking at best, in the architect's eyes. Alhaitham may not have said out loud that Kaveh's logic makes no sense, but his incredulous tone makes his thoughts on the subject clear, which only serves to piss him off even more.
So maybe, maybe he takes just a little pleasure in how the shock floods the other's face, no matter how briefly the expression exists. While he can't quite place the effect he's had, he it's almost enough to know that he's triggered something in him—
It's a pleasure he doesn't get to keep for long though, because Alhaitham is up and getting in his face, emerald eyes burning with a strange, fiery heat that makes Kaveh feel very suddenly like his mouth is much too dry, speaking words that immediately have the more senior of the two wanting to backpedal and apologize for pushing it too far.
Instead, he holds his ground, glares right back up at the other man, tries very sincerely not to think about how easy it would be just to close this space between them— basically a less-drunk version of what he did less than a day ago. If it wasn't for the fact that he remembers it reasonably clearly (as clearly as he can when he was that smashed), he'd posit that they'd found themselves in a samsara, a strange sort of loop in time of which some scholars have talked in the past. They've always argued, but lately it just seems to be getting worse—
He's getting dangerously close to losing himself in his own thoughts, so he breaks the chain by taking a small step back, shaking his head. ]
[ for the step that kaveh takes back, alhaitham matches it, follows him because this time, he refuses to back down. the advance doesn't last long though, because the blonde's back is soon up against the adjoining wall with no room left to retreat.
for all the similarities the situation bore to the one the previous night, the scribe doesn't look furious like he did then - he looks pissed, but with the undertones of being hurt rather than simply frustrated at loud, drunken antics. unlike kaveh, alhaitham remembers and correlates every detail between the two arguments; the expression on kaveh's face, the words that had been yelled, the feeling of his weight and warmth against his shoulder.
and so, too, alhaitham catalogues those details now, like a decent academic would. the fire that kaveh had ignited thrums through his veins as his eyes drag over every inch of the other from the chin up - the slight sheen on his lips, the blonde locks of hair that would normally be braided up and out of sight now framing his face... the dark marks on his neck, hiding just out of view and largely obscured by the fact his hair was down.
the intense gaze lingers over them for longer than anything else, the flash of something possessive flickering across the scribe's face as he reaches up to run his thumb over one of the worst - a particularly egregious mark marring the skin just above kaveh's collarbone.
he doesn't even think about it, he'd argue. doesn't even think about how soft the skin is under his fingers or the jolt of electricity that spikes through him as they connect, because all he can think about is that someone else did this to him. ]
If you haven't toyed with me: you didn't come into the study like this for any reason other than simply being lazy?
[ alhaitham murmurs, voice low and even. he's still looking at the mark. ]
[ When his retreating step is followed, Kaveh responds by taking another— and before long he's backed up against a wall, nowhere to go and Alhaitham bearing down on him, all anger and intensity and something that looks remarkably like hurt, leaving him to swallow against the dryness of his mouth as he watches the way those eyes trail over him, once again taking in the unkempt, debauched state he so confidently paraded around not even an hour ago.
There's something else, too, something he can't quite read just before the scribe's thumb lifts to swipe over that dark patch of skin above his collarbone; between that something and the spark of electricity from that contact, Kaveh's mouth betrays him with a shaky exhale, body with a slight lift of his chin, as if to afford Alhaitham more room to explore.
And the whole time, he's trying to think of a way to answer what is honestly a completely warranted question, even if it feels unfair to his mind. Mostly, he's irritated with himself. They were at peace again; he should have just shut his fucking mouth and not tried to provoke Alhaitham further.
Because now he's paying the price. Up close like this, the scribe is frighteningly handsome, even with the dark circles of fatigue and the bruise, all soft skin and hard jaw and piercing eyes; it's sheer stubbornness that keeps his eyes on the other's face, not allowing them to visually explore more of his body— more muscles, and more— the way he wants to.
He's trapped, and this time it isn't as simple as him trying to say he'll move out. Alhaitham has him cornered. ]
...I wanted your attention, [ is the admission that finally appears, and compared to the even timbre of Alhaitham's voice, Kaveh's is shaky with honesty. ] I wanted you to be jealous. You're the... the reason I was so riled up in the first place, so... so I wanted you to see.
[ it doesn't escape his notice that kaveh cocks his head to the side slightly at his touch rather than shy away from it, his eyes raking up his neck. it was rare for alhaitham to be in the position where his actions were dictated by emotion rather than reason, but this almost felt like an out-of-body experience where he was simply allowed to act rather than think - like suddenly, all of teyvat had fallen apart around them and that only this moment was worth paying attention to. kaveh managed to undo him in all the most frustrating ways, including unraveling his methodical nature, and judging by the situation - it was only getting worse.
his thumb follows the path of his eyes, up the inside of kaveh's neck and to the jut of his jaw. ]
Well, you certainly have my attention.
[ alhaitham replies coolly, his voice refusing to belie the tumult in his mind. he can't help but arch an eyebrow at kaveh's next admission though - him? he was the reason kaveh had been searching for comfort at the bottom of the bottle or against someone else's body?
as long as they'd known one another - which had been a significant stretch of time at this point - he'd assumed all of the blonde's words were empty flirtation and nothing more. the architect had always been popular, never wanting for attention from anyone around him, certainly not in their classes or cohorts in the akademiya, and so - he'd simply not paid attention.
for someone so strict on detail, had he really missed something that major? ]
I'm the reason? What could I have possibly done to warrant - [ his fingers press against another mark on kaveh's neck, steeled gaze meeting kaveh's just inches away. almost under his breath; ] - this?
[ There's a part of him that desperately wants to keep his eyes meeting Alhaitham's, that feels it's cowardly to turn away from what's happening right now, even in something as small as closing his eyes. But he can't quite help it; the sensation of the other man's thumb trailing up along his skin is electric in a way that he dizzily wonders for a moment if somehow he got a second Vision, as impossible as that might usually be. ]
You— [ a pause, because his tongue feels thick in his mouth ] —you became a damn hero.
[ Fingers against another bruise marring his neck, and his breath hitches.
Alhaitham's always been attractive, and Kaveh has never had a problem admitting as much— never to the scribe's face of course, that would be a little too thirsty even for him, but to others amongst whom the topic has come up in discussion. The problem the architect has with him has always been two-fold: one, his tendency to put logic and science ahead of art and beauty; two, a nature bordering on selfish, putting himself and his desires ahead of the greater good.
And then he had to go and save Sumeru— possibly all of Teyvat— and unwind the second of those issues.
And then was the dream, an awkward shuffle to the baths on waking, and pictures doomed to repeat themselves over and over: his reflection in one of Alhaitham's chisel-light mirrors, fucked-out and ecstatic, fingers digging into bedsheets doomed to tear under his grip as his hips arch in response to firm, solid thrusts—
He can't say all of that, though.
The problem is, he's not entirely sure how to continue explaining it from here. ]
Incorrect. [ he replies quickly, voice firm as he watches as kaveh looks away. ] I simply did what was necessary of me at the time.
[ of course, there'd been a lot of talk about the carry-on after the fact, all of which had been decidedly uncomfortable. alhaitham had carved out this quiet corner of the world for a specific reason, certainly not to draw attention to himself - and as such, being called misnomers like 'hero' and 'saviour' sat on his shoulders like dead weights. there was no doubt he possessed great talent - alhaitham was sure of that himself - but it didn't warrant any of the idolatry that had followed.
anyway, that chapter was thoroughly behind them now. a frown furrows his brow as he maintains that unwavering gaze, though it seemed more curious than anything - confused, maybe, if alhaitham was ever capable of such a state. ]
It begs the question, then, is that really it? [ he murmurs thoughtfully. ] I simply, what - solve a problem that requires solving, and that's all it takes to suddenly want my attention?
[ at least to him, it wasn't a significant development, nor an inciting event. but his mind is currently warring between collecting all the answers to his questions and doing other, much less analytical things to the architect trapped in front of him. he could feel kaveh's warm breath against his lips, could see every halted breath and fluttered eyelash, and it was undoing him.
so he takes kaveh's chin in his fingers and tilts his head back towards him so that looking away is a much less convenient option, something hungry flickering across his face as some semblance of realisation begins to set in. ]
As for wanting to make me jealous, [ he breathes, having just mapped out the marks someone else had left behind for him to find, ] don't you think that's a risky bet to be taking? You always do make rash decisions... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.
[ For every argument that Alhaitham makes against his own participation being something special, Kaveh has a retort stored up in reply, a reminder that nothing he did was necessary, that there were others who could have helped in his stead, that he's been named 'hero' and asked repeatedly to be Grand Sage for a reason— even if the architect himself is usually quick to state that he himself would make a better sage than his introverted, surly roommate.
But the other is right in musing that it can't simply be that has triggered Kaveh's want for his attention. Of course there's more to it than that: realization, new knowledge that even the blonde is only just starting to unravel for himself, an awakening of something that triggered something else that he hasn't dared mention aloud.
(Although from the way Alhaitham's fingers take his chin and tilt it, from the dark hunger that flickers across his face for a split second— and sending a delighted shiver down Kaveh's spine in turn— he's starting to wonder if maybe he should. It's a thought chased away though by the reminder of the fact that this could just be something passing on the other's part, something driven by the jealousy and not by whatever new feeling Kaveh has discovered in the depths of his own chest.)
Being unable to look away leaves him with only a single defense: to close his eyes, and under the circumstances when he can feel as well as hear every word the scribe speaks, he's not sure that's a smart idea. So he matches the other's gaze as best as he can, trying to keep his breathing even, his brows narrowing at the comment— not out of anger, but rather a hint of bafflement over once again not quite knowing what to say. After all, Alhaitham has already left him speechless so many times this morning alone, and the feeling of fingers against his skin is doing nothing to help.
And really, there's nothing more for him to say, either. The taller man has already hit the nail on the head with his reasoning— or lack thereof, the choice to swan around as he did made in a single, rash moment— and he's nowhere near ready enough to share the rest of it, the extra truth that Alhaitham already knows is there.
But he has to say something. Right? ]
Like you said... I didn't think about it.
[ But it's not enough. No matter which way he looks at it... ]
...Fuck this.
[ Even with the scribe's hand holding his chin in place, they're near enough that he's able to close the gap— and so he does exactly that, an insistent press of his mouth that fits their lips together. And just like that, Kaveh knows he's made a move now that he can't return from, because Alhaitham tastes like something he not only wants, but needs—
And he's half-expecting even now for the other to pull away, to put an end to it before it's even begun. ]
[ leave it to kaveh to use actions, diagrams or drawings to explain complex concepts instead of using words like an eloquent person. before alhaitham can even admonish his crass speech, kaveh closes the gap between them and simply kisses him rather than finish his train of thought out loud.
the scribe stiffens for a moment, his fingers falling away from the other's chin, having somehow not foreseen this kind of consequence despite the fact they'd both been hurtling towards it in ignorance. for just this fraction of time, alhaitham is stunned enough that his head is actually quiet for once, quiet enough to catalogue the sensation that was kaveh crossing the line drawn between the in the sand with finality.
it's enough time to take it in - the sweet, faint scent of cologne on kaveh's skin; the warmth of his mouth against his own; how they fit together in a way that felt logically impossible - and in that moment, alhaitham realises with devastating clarity that although kaveh was contrary, irritating, loud, histrionic - he was also (impossibly) perfect.
and so the analytical mind takes a back seat, the scribe taking his chance if it was being so offered up to him on a silver platter. half-breaking the kiss to inhale sharply in response to the things this was making him feel, alhaitham possessively takes kaveh's face in his hands and soundly meets their lips together again, a barely audible, guttural growl clawing its way up his throat as he did so.
it pressed the blonde firmer against the wall, the lengths of their bodies flush against one another as alhaitham all but towers over him into the kiss - and, yes, it smacked of terrible decision making without enough information, context or risk assessment - but somehow, that fit.
all they'd been making the past two days were terribly misinformed decisions. ]
[ When Alhaitham stiffens, Kaveh is prepared for that to be the end of it, for the scribe to pull away from him and demand more answers. It doesn't help that the other's fingers drop from his chin, leaving oddly numb places where they were just seconds before. The kiss is partially broken almost as soon as it started, and there's just enough time for him to wonder if maybe this fuck-up is even worse than the one that left him with an expensive dry-cleaning bill and Alhaitham with a bruise on his jaw—
And then there's the sharp inhale, the firm grasp of his face in Alhaitham's hands as he rejoins the kiss, the sound that makes Kaveh's blood take a sharp turn south. He makes a surprised sound against the other's mouth, something that's half a startled gasp and half a pleased groan, because the scribe's kiss is so different from how he acts. There's a rough rawness to him that on its own works wonders to unwind Kaveh's first problem with Alhaitham, sending shudders of awareness down his spine in response to this new realization that the scribe is passionate.
This is all so very bad for his self-control.
With the initial worry quelled by the returned kiss, Kaveh puts his wild jumble of thoughts aside, letting himself just enjoy. Pressed into the wall as he is, he finds himself reaching out, arms moving to Alhaitham's waist to tug and pull the other man closer to him— if that's even possible with their bodies already flush together like this— and he responds with a parting of his lips, a swipe of his tongue, allowing himself the luxury of taste
(not like the coffee Kaveh has imagined before but something faintly reminiscent of mint)
and a soft sigh against the scribe's mouth, fingers splaying across his back. ]
[ it would be so easy to get lost in this, so easy if alhaitham were anyone else but himself.
but: he's built on reason. despite how intoxicating kaveh's lithe fingers feel running over the muscles of his back, despite how pliable he is underneath his hands, and how easy it seems to be to drag noises out of him the likes of which he'd never heard pass his lips before - despite all this, reason pulls him back like being dumped in a freezing bath.
his body tenses again as logical thought returns, indignant at the lapse in function, and alhaitham breaks the kiss almost jarringly, pulling back several inches. hands fall from kaveh's face and instead prop him up either side of the architect against the wall, still effectively caging the other in (although that wasn't his intention - the intention was simply not to touch the other in the interim).
he does look a little uncharacteristically undone - his mouth a dark scarlet from the kiss, clashing with his pale skin; a little lost for breath - but his expression is calculating, colder than it had been a moment ago.
the scribe's mind had finally caught up with his body. ]
- Kaveh.
[ althaitham's voice is quiet but oddly warning, commanding, emerald eyes staring at the other full bore. the look was a cryptic one, but so many of his often were. ]
Did you do that simply to distract from having to provide an explanation?
[ Just as he allows himself to really sink into the kiss, it's ended in the abrupt way he feared from the start; for a moment, Kaveh finds himself chasing the other's mouth an inch or two before he manages to stop himself, the cold of realization clutching at his heart like a vise. Alhaitham got caught up in it for a moment, but it really was a mistake— how can it not be, when the scribe breaks the kiss with a sudden jerk back, when he looks at him with the coldest expression he thinks he might have ever seen?
(But his lips, red from the blood rushing to them, the slight part of them as he seeks to catch his breath; Kaveh knows in this exact moment he'll see this face in his dreams, dreams surely had under the starry night sky once he's kicked out onto the street.)
And yet the scribe's words aren't an instant demand for him to get the fuck out of his house... no, they're somehow worse, color flooding to Kaveh's already heated cheeks as a hurt, indignant expression crosses his face. His hands fall to his sides as if unsure of what to do with themselves, but not before one lifts to rub over his own plush red lips, as if to somehow scrub off that sweet, lingering taste. ]
Are you joking?
[ His voice starts low, still edged with something raw and husky from the kiss they shared, but growing quickly in pitch and volume as the hurt and anger mingle into something that overpowers that, his hands slowly clenching into fists at either side of his hips. ]
Do you really think I'm the kind of person to do that after you specifically told me not to toy with you? Just how little do you think of me?!
Is it not a question worth asking - especially considering the severity of this development?
[ - is his calm reply, his tone measured. something twinges inside him at the ghost of hurt crossing kaveh's face though, which in itself is strange - after all, the other has been upset with him numerous times (few deserved, most not), so much so that it was the dynamic that even their mutual acquaintances expected from them now. but now, now, that look appeared to mirror itself and hurt him in return. ]
You initiated this, so I think it's only fair to request a reason - why.
[ social hierarchy was so beyond alhaitham's sphere of interest, but he's well aware that kaveh is a lot of things he's not. popular, charismatic, easygoing (to other people). he could fall into the arms of anyone in sumeru without much effort, just like he'd done last night. the qualities kaveh had that he lacked didn't bother him so much - he had plenty others to make up for lacking a silver tongue - but somehow, the fact that kaveh could so easily change his mind?
that did.
clarification seemed important, when this eventuality - kaveh suddenly kissing him in the lounge - was such a remote one. ]
I didn't say I think that. It was simply a postulation given the evidence, of which I have very little.
If you don't have evidence, then shut up with your fucking postulations! [ It's practically yelled, the anger spiking in his chest, a result of the swarming panic that is the result of his fear of being kicked out— maybe even his fear of just being rejected— isn't that stupid, when he knows all too well that he could have pretty much anyone he wanted?
But he doesn't want just anyone. He wants the man standing in front of him, cold eyes and measured voice and words that are accidentally cruel. ] Has it occurred to you that maybe I kissed you because I wanted to?!
[ Kaveh's eyes close, his fists clenching tighter, his breath stuttered over his lips and heart racing. Yelling is getting him nowhere. He needs to calm down, even if somehow he knows that telling the truth will get him just as far, and just as quickly. After all, the dream he had was still physical, could still leave Alhaitham with the same conclusion he's reached already. Even if he wanted to share it.
And as for the rest... despite all appearances to the contrary, he likes living here, and owning up might make things even more awkward between the two of them. Not to mention that he has his pride—
(But does he? Does he really? How proud can he really be, to be standing before Alhaitham like this, all kissed-up neck and messy hair, eyes closed in an attempt to fight off tears of emotion after screaming at him, after having practically thrown himself at him only moments before?
Fuck, he's pathetic.)
Kaveh's arms fold across his chest protectively, his voice much smaller this time when he continues speaking. ]
[ the yelling, punctuated with coarse language, doesn't even make alhaitham flinch. he's used to kaveh's outbursts, yes, but he's also just too tired to get sucked into an impassioned argument again. so, the scribe simply keeps his eyes on kaveh's with that level gaze - though he does straighten up slightly, his hands leaving the wall and coming to rest at his sides instead.
it's impossible to tell what alhaitham's thinking, but what he's being told seems to make enough sense to him. kaveh, always the impulsive one, did this because 'he wanted to' - a whimsy, or an action of convenience. unlike the architect, alhaitham hadn't dallied much with anyone over his college and subsequent akademiya years, and even then? any relationships he'd had were purely transactional, functional in nature. sure, he'd had his own share of admirers, but they were always admirers from afar, no-one quite brave enough to approach the haravatat scholar and suggest a casual hookup.
so, as always, it's simple logic and a process of elimination. earlier in this - whatever this would be classified as - kaveh had indeed mentioned that maybe he'd just needed a physical outlet, someone to engage with to vent his frustration. the reasoning is sound, the correlated actions and reactions add up, and so when kaveh asks, 'isn't that enough?', alhaitham looks somewhat thoughtful. he shrugs gently. ]
Not a particularly eloquent reason, but I suppose it is one.
[ a distant, hollow feeling is starting to gnaw at his mind, but the scribe is objectively going to chalk that down to having two hours of sleep and experiencing an uncomfortable amount of emotional energy.
[ It should be a relief when Alhaitham's arms lower and he's no longer caged. He should be able to take solace in the fact that the scribe seems to take his words at face value, acknowledging them as a valid reason— despite their inelegance. There should be comfort in the fact that the frustration and even hurt is gone from the other's face, replaced by something calmer, more thoughtful.
Instead, he feels empty, a dull ache in his chest that says he's made a mistake; and perhaps for the first time in memory he's regretting the alcohol of the night before, the things he said and did and thought that have somehow landed him here.
But the upside perhaps is that Alhaitham seems somehow mollified by the conclusion he's reached, even if it's the wrong one— even if Kaveh's not exactly sure what that conclusion is— And all he has to do is agree and surely the whole mess will be over and forgotten and he can go back to pining in silence...
In better silence, though, since he failed so miserably at it this time. ]
Yeah, [ he says, and he's lying even though he told Alhaitham that he didn't want to do that. There's no way that the man in front of him can be something convenient, something transactional. But he shrugs anyway, averts his eyes because he can't look at him while the lies are on his tongue. ] Yeah, it's enough.
[ Maybe he'll take a nap, and then go get wasted again and try to pretend this whole thing never happened. ]
[ - which is meant to be a reassuring statement, even though in this miscommunicated context it doesn't quite hit the mark. it's baffling, really, why kaveh looks so downcast when alhaitham thought he was being rather agreeable considering - had he said something off-base again? likely, although usually the other would be more than happy to make him eat his words if that was the case.
even though they were such perfect foils for one another academically, the past day had only reinforced alhaitham's theory that on personal levels, they'd never see eye to eye. whatever half step they took forward was a full step back, whether it was kaveh's stubbornness or the scribe's bluntness that triggered the next cascade - and suddenly, the finality of his fatigue collapsed on him like a tonne of bricks.
he fixes the blonde with a momentary, scrutinising look - even though kaveh had decided to avert his gaze - and lets out a quiet huff, crossing his arms over his chest. ]
You should get some rest.
[ is the final, helpful observation he offers, though even when alhaitham is being genuine it's in the same tone as the rest of his speech and kaveh will probably still take it the wrong way.
he's too exhausted to continue this train of thought with the hope of any productive outcome. if he were to be an outlet for kaveh on an impulsive basis, so be it. it was a benefit to him as well, because it was inarguably pleasant, pleasurable to have the other the way he had just before. and if that was all it would be? that's all it would be.
the silence hangs for a further second before alhaitham looks away and withdraws, the sound of bare feet against the wooden floor echoing down the hall towards his rooms, in which he then quietly disappears. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
indigently) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sempiternals2023-02-11 10:39 pm
no subject
Perhaps it's dramatic, the way he suddenly stands from the couch and starts pacing in front of it, but Kaveh's always been one for a little bit of drama, and as much as there's a small part of his brain telling him he should show some restraint, let the other man rest, he can't quite stop his own irritation from driving the conversation forward. ]
Not everything can be helped by talking it through, Alhaitham. Has it occurred to you that maybe getting "jumped", as you so charmingly put it, is the kind of help I needed in that moment?
[ None of this, of course, explains the deliberate choice to flaunt himself this morning. Although the conversation does have him feeling oddly self-conscious, and Kaveh frowns yet more deeply, both hands reaching to try to tug his shirt into something of a more presentable state. ]
What would you have had me do? Bend myself over your desk and ask nicely for you to please fuck me until I wasn't thinking about it anymore?
[ ...Why does he feel like that's a question he's going to regret later? ]
no subject
but this was what they did, wasn't it? smooth things over only to immediately fuck them up again? irritated, alhaitham frowns at the suggestion that what kaveh said was reasonable by any measure. ]
Right. You're telling me that the help you needed, for a problem so major you ended up punching me in the face over - was that you needed to get laid? While you were so drunk you could barely walk? Are you serious?
[ his tone is incredulous now, because kaveh isn't making any sense and even when he's in the most heated phases of his rants, at least he could rely on the fact that there was probably something substantial in there somewhere. the other was thoughtful and famously intelligent, so why is his logic so distorted right now?
- and then, he drops the other bomb.
subconsciously, alhaitham tenses up, a look of shock crossing his face for the briefest of moments before it quickly rearranged into a perplexed sort of scowl. that kind of phrase coming out of kaveh's mouth, in that charmingly musical voice of his, directed at him - it obviously twinged something inside the scribe visibly, perceptibly. it sparked an unfamiliar thrill deep inside him, set a fire burning that would easily spiral out of control, and for a moment, he considers simply fulfilling the demand.
suddenly, the fatigue is relatively forgotten and the tenuous peace between them is shattered, one of alhaitham's hands curling in on itself to try and meter his feelings as he draws himself decisively up from the sofa. the reactive, raw part of him wants to ask unreasonable things right back, like 'what the fuck kind of question is that' - but the placidity somehow wins out.
he doesn't know what kaveh's doing, but he would not let him get under his skin for a third time.
they're close again, much like they'd been the previous night during their last argument, alhaitham glowering down at the other. ]
I'd choose what you're going to say next very carefully. I'm not a toy to be played with.
no subject
So maybe, maybe he takes just a little pleasure in how the shock floods the other's face, no matter how briefly the expression exists. While he can't quite place the effect he's had, he it's almost enough to know that he's triggered something in him—
It's a pleasure he doesn't get to keep for long though, because Alhaitham is up and getting in his face, emerald eyes burning with a strange, fiery heat that makes Kaveh feel very suddenly like his mouth is much too dry, speaking words that immediately have the more senior of the two wanting to backpedal and apologize for pushing it too far.
Instead, he holds his ground, glares right back up at the other man, tries very sincerely not to think about how easy it would be just to close this space between them— basically a less-drunk version of what he did less than a day ago. If it wasn't for the fact that he remembers it reasonably clearly (as clearly as he can when he was that smashed), he'd posit that they'd found themselves in a samsara, a strange sort of loop in time of which some scholars have talked in the past. They've always argued, but lately it just seems to be getting worse—
He's getting dangerously close to losing himself in his own thoughts, so he breaks the chain by taking a small step back, shaking his head. ]
Since when have I ever toyed with you?
no subject
for all the similarities the situation bore to the one the previous night, the scribe doesn't look furious like he did then - he looks pissed, but with the undertones of being hurt rather than simply frustrated at loud, drunken antics. unlike kaveh, alhaitham remembers and correlates every detail between the two arguments; the expression on kaveh's face, the words that had been yelled, the feeling of his weight and warmth against his shoulder.
and so, too, alhaitham catalogues those details now, like a decent academic would. the fire that kaveh had ignited thrums through his veins as his eyes drag over every inch of the other from the chin up - the slight sheen on his lips, the blonde locks of hair that would normally be braided up and out of sight now framing his face... the dark marks on his neck, hiding just out of view and largely obscured by the fact his hair was down.
the intense gaze lingers over them for longer than anything else, the flash of something possessive flickering across the scribe's face as he reaches up to run his thumb over one of the worst - a particularly egregious mark marring the skin just above kaveh's collarbone.
he doesn't even think about it, he'd argue. doesn't even think about how soft the skin is under his fingers or the jolt of electricity that spikes through him as they connect, because all he can think about is that someone else did this to him. ]
If you haven't toyed with me: you didn't come into the study like this for any reason other than simply being lazy?
[ alhaitham murmurs, voice low and even. he's still looking at the mark. ]
no subject
There's something else, too, something he can't quite read just before the scribe's thumb lifts to swipe over that dark patch of skin above his collarbone; between that something and the spark of electricity from that contact, Kaveh's mouth betrays him with a shaky exhale, body with a slight lift of his chin, as if to afford Alhaitham more room to explore.
And the whole time, he's trying to think of a way to answer what is honestly a completely warranted question, even if it feels unfair to his mind. Mostly, he's irritated with himself. They were at peace again; he should have just shut his fucking mouth and not tried to provoke Alhaitham further.
Because now he's paying the price. Up close like this, the scribe is frighteningly handsome, even with the dark circles of fatigue and the bruise, all soft skin and hard jaw and piercing eyes; it's sheer stubbornness that keeps his eyes on the other's face, not allowing them to visually explore more of his body— more muscles, and more— the way he wants to.
He's trapped, and this time it isn't as simple as him trying to say he'll move out. Alhaitham has him cornered. ]
...I wanted your attention, [ is the admission that finally appears, and compared to the even timbre of Alhaitham's voice, Kaveh's is shaky with honesty. ] I wanted you to be jealous. You're the... the reason I was so riled up in the first place, so... so I wanted you to see.
no subject
his thumb follows the path of his eyes, up the inside of kaveh's neck and to the jut of his jaw. ]
Well, you certainly have my attention.
[ alhaitham replies coolly, his voice refusing to belie the tumult in his mind. he can't help but arch an eyebrow at kaveh's next admission though - him? he was the reason kaveh had been searching for comfort at the bottom of the bottle or against someone else's body?
as long as they'd known one another - which had been a significant stretch of time at this point - he'd assumed all of the blonde's words were empty flirtation and nothing more. the architect had always been popular, never wanting for attention from anyone around him, certainly not in their classes or cohorts in the akademiya, and so - he'd simply not paid attention.
for someone so strict on detail, had he really missed something that major? ]
I'm the reason? What could I have possibly done to warrant - [ his fingers press against another mark on kaveh's neck, steeled gaze meeting kaveh's just inches away. almost under his breath; ] - this?
no subject
You— [ a pause, because his tongue feels thick in his mouth ] —you became a damn hero.
[ Fingers against another bruise marring his neck, and his breath hitches.
Alhaitham's always been attractive, and Kaveh has never had a problem admitting as much— never to the scribe's face of course, that would be a little too thirsty even for him, but to others amongst whom the topic has come up in discussion. The problem the architect has with him has always been two-fold: one, his tendency to put logic and science ahead of art and beauty; two, a nature bordering on selfish, putting himself and his desires ahead of the greater good.
And then he had to go and save Sumeru— possibly all of Teyvat— and unwind the second of those issues.
And then was the dream, an awkward shuffle to the baths on waking, and pictures doomed to repeat themselves over and over: his reflection in one of Alhaitham's chisel-light mirrors, fucked-out and ecstatic, fingers digging into bedsheets doomed to tear under his grip as his hips arch in response to firm, solid thrusts—
He can't say all of that, though.
The problem is, he's not entirely sure how to continue explaining it from here. ]
no subject
[ of course, there'd been a lot of talk about the carry-on after the fact, all of which had been decidedly uncomfortable. alhaitham had carved out this quiet corner of the world for a specific reason, certainly not to draw attention to himself - and as such, being called misnomers like 'hero' and 'saviour' sat on his shoulders like dead weights. there was no doubt he possessed great talent - alhaitham was sure of that himself - but it didn't warrant any of the idolatry that had followed.
anyway, that chapter was thoroughly behind them now. a frown furrows his brow as he maintains that unwavering gaze, though it seemed more curious than anything - confused, maybe, if alhaitham was ever capable of such a state. ]
It begs the question, then, is that really it? [ he murmurs thoughtfully. ] I simply, what - solve a problem that requires solving, and that's all it takes to suddenly want my attention?
[ at least to him, it wasn't a significant development, nor an inciting event. but his mind is currently warring between collecting all the answers to his questions and doing other, much less analytical things to the architect trapped in front of him. he could feel kaveh's warm breath against his lips, could see every halted breath and fluttered eyelash, and it was undoing him.
so he takes kaveh's chin in his fingers and tilts his head back towards him so that looking away is a much less convenient option, something hungry flickering across his face as some semblance of realisation begins to set in. ]
As for wanting to make me jealous, [ he breathes, having just mapped out the marks someone else had left behind for him to find, ] don't you think that's a risky bet to be taking? You always do make rash decisions... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.
[ unfortunately, it had absolutely worked. ]
no subject
But the other is right in musing that it can't simply be that has triggered Kaveh's want for his attention. Of course there's more to it than that: realization, new knowledge that even the blonde is only just starting to unravel for himself, an awakening of something that triggered something else that he hasn't dared mention aloud.
(Although from the way Alhaitham's fingers take his chin and tilt it, from the dark hunger that flickers across his face for a split second— and sending a delighted shiver down Kaveh's spine in turn— he's starting to wonder if maybe he should. It's a thought chased away though by the reminder of the fact that this could just be something passing on the other's part, something driven by the jealousy and not by whatever new feeling Kaveh has discovered in the depths of his own chest.)
Being unable to look away leaves him with only a single defense: to close his eyes, and under the circumstances when he can feel as well as hear every word the scribe speaks, he's not sure that's a smart idea. So he matches the other's gaze as best as he can, trying to keep his breathing even, his brows narrowing at the comment— not out of anger, but rather a hint of bafflement over once again not quite knowing what to say. After all, Alhaitham has already left him speechless so many times this morning alone, and the feeling of fingers against his skin is doing nothing to help.
And really, there's nothing more for him to say, either. The taller man has already hit the nail on the head with his reasoning— or lack thereof, the choice to swan around as he did made in a single, rash moment— and he's nowhere near ready enough to share the rest of it, the extra truth that Alhaitham already knows is there.
But he has to say something. Right? ]
Like you said... I didn't think about it.
[ But it's not enough. No matter which way he looks at it... ]
...Fuck this.
[ Even with the scribe's hand holding his chin in place, they're near enough that he's able to close the gap— and so he does exactly that, an insistent press of his mouth that fits their lips together. And just like that, Kaveh knows he's made a move now that he can't return from, because Alhaitham tastes like something he not only wants, but needs—
And he's half-expecting even now for the other to pull away, to put an end to it before it's even begun. ]
no subject
the scribe stiffens for a moment, his fingers falling away from the other's chin, having somehow not foreseen this kind of consequence despite the fact they'd both been hurtling towards it in ignorance. for just this fraction of time, alhaitham is stunned enough that his head is actually quiet for once, quiet enough to catalogue the sensation that was kaveh crossing the line drawn between the in the sand with finality.
it's enough time to take it in - the sweet, faint scent of cologne on kaveh's skin; the warmth of his mouth against his own; how they fit together in a way that felt logically impossible - and in that moment, alhaitham realises with devastating clarity that although kaveh was contrary, irritating, loud, histrionic - he was also (impossibly) perfect.
and so the analytical mind takes a back seat, the scribe taking his chance if it was being so offered up to him on a silver platter. half-breaking the kiss to inhale sharply in response to the things this was making him feel, alhaitham possessively takes kaveh's face in his hands and soundly meets their lips together again, a barely audible, guttural growl clawing its way up his throat as he did so.
it pressed the blonde firmer against the wall, the lengths of their bodies flush against one another as alhaitham all but towers over him into the kiss - and, yes, it smacked of terrible decision making without enough information, context or risk assessment - but somehow, that fit.
all they'd been making the past two days were terribly misinformed decisions. ]
no subject
And then there's the sharp inhale, the firm grasp of his face in Alhaitham's hands as he rejoins the kiss, the sound that makes Kaveh's blood take a sharp turn south. He makes a surprised sound against the other's mouth, something that's half a startled gasp and half a pleased groan, because the scribe's kiss is so different from how he acts. There's a rough rawness to him that on its own works wonders to unwind Kaveh's first problem with Alhaitham, sending shudders of awareness down his spine in response to this new realization that the scribe is passionate.
This is all so very bad for his self-control.
With the initial worry quelled by the returned kiss, Kaveh puts his wild jumble of thoughts aside, letting himself just enjoy. Pressed into the wall as he is, he finds himself reaching out, arms moving to Alhaitham's waist to tug and pull the other man closer to him— if that's even possible with their bodies already flush together like this— and he responds with a parting of his lips, a swipe of his tongue, allowing himself the luxury of taste
(not like the coffee Kaveh has imagined before but something faintly reminiscent of mint)
and a soft sigh against the scribe's mouth, fingers splaying across his back. ]
no subject
but: he's built on reason. despite how intoxicating kaveh's lithe fingers feel running over the muscles of his back, despite how pliable he is underneath his hands, and how easy it seems to be to drag noises out of him the likes of which he'd never heard pass his lips before - despite all this, reason pulls him back like being dumped in a freezing bath.
his body tenses again as logical thought returns, indignant at the lapse in function, and alhaitham breaks the kiss almost jarringly, pulling back several inches. hands fall from kaveh's face and instead prop him up either side of the architect against the wall, still effectively caging the other in (although that wasn't his intention - the intention was simply not to touch the other in the interim).
he does look a little uncharacteristically undone - his mouth a dark scarlet from the kiss, clashing with his pale skin; a little lost for breath - but his expression is calculating, colder than it had been a moment ago.
the scribe's mind had finally caught up with his body. ]
- Kaveh.
[ althaitham's voice is quiet but oddly warning, commanding, emerald eyes staring at the other full bore. the look was a cryptic one, but so many of his often were. ]
Did you do that simply to distract from having to provide an explanation?
no subject
(But his lips, red from the blood rushing to them, the slight part of them as he seeks to catch his breath; Kaveh knows in this exact moment he'll see this face in his dreams, dreams surely had under the starry night sky once he's kicked out onto the street.)
And yet the scribe's words aren't an instant demand for him to get the fuck out of his house... no, they're somehow worse, color flooding to Kaveh's already heated cheeks as a hurt, indignant expression crosses his face. His hands fall to his sides as if unsure of what to do with themselves, but not before one lifts to rub over his own plush red lips, as if to somehow scrub off that sweet, lingering taste. ]
Are you joking?
[ His voice starts low, still edged with something raw and husky from the kiss they shared, but growing quickly in pitch and volume as the hurt and anger mingle into something that overpowers that, his hands slowly clenching into fists at either side of his hips. ]
Do you really think I'm the kind of person to do that after you specifically told me not to toy with you? Just how little do you think of me?!
no subject
[ - is his calm reply, his tone measured. something twinges inside him at the ghost of hurt crossing kaveh's face though, which in itself is strange - after all, the other has been upset with him numerous times (few deserved, most not), so much so that it was the dynamic that even their mutual acquaintances expected from them now. but now, now, that look appeared to mirror itself and hurt him in return. ]
You initiated this, so I think it's only fair to request a reason - why.
[ social hierarchy was so beyond alhaitham's sphere of interest, but he's well aware that kaveh is a lot of things he's not. popular, charismatic, easygoing (to other people). he could fall into the arms of anyone in sumeru without much effort, just like he'd done last night. the qualities kaveh had that he lacked didn't bother him so much - he had plenty others to make up for lacking a silver tongue - but somehow, the fact that kaveh could so easily change his mind?
that did.
clarification seemed important, when this eventuality - kaveh suddenly kissing him in the lounge - was such a remote one. ]
I didn't say I think that. It was simply a postulation given the evidence, of which I have very little.
no subject
But he doesn't want just anyone. He wants the man standing in front of him, cold eyes and measured voice and words that are accidentally cruel. ] Has it occurred to you that maybe I kissed you because I wanted to?!
[ Kaveh's eyes close, his fists clenching tighter, his breath stuttered over his lips and heart racing. Yelling is getting him nowhere. He needs to calm down, even if somehow he knows that telling the truth will get him just as far, and just as quickly. After all, the dream he had was still physical, could still leave Alhaitham with the same conclusion he's reached already. Even if he wanted to share it.
And as for the rest... despite all appearances to the contrary, he likes living here, and owning up might make things even more awkward between the two of them. Not to mention that he has his pride—
(But does he? Does he really? How proud can he really be, to be standing before Alhaitham like this, all kissed-up neck and messy hair, eyes closed in an attempt to fight off tears of emotion after screaming at him, after having practically thrown himself at him only moments before?
Fuck, he's pathetic.)
Kaveh's arms fold across his chest protectively, his voice much smaller this time when he continues speaking. ]
Isn't that enough?
no subject
it's impossible to tell what alhaitham's thinking, but what he's being told seems to make enough sense to him. kaveh, always the impulsive one, did this because 'he wanted to' - a whimsy, or an action of convenience. unlike the architect, alhaitham hadn't dallied much with anyone over his college and subsequent akademiya years, and even then? any relationships he'd had were purely transactional, functional in nature. sure, he'd had his own share of admirers, but they were always admirers from afar, no-one quite brave enough to approach the haravatat scholar and suggest a casual hookup.
so, as always, it's simple logic and a process of elimination. earlier in this - whatever this would be classified as - kaveh had indeed mentioned that maybe he'd just needed a physical outlet, someone to engage with to vent his frustration. the reasoning is sound, the correlated actions and reactions add up, and so when kaveh asks, 'isn't that enough?', alhaitham looks somewhat thoughtful. he shrugs gently. ]
Not a particularly eloquent reason, but I suppose it is one.
[ a distant, hollow feeling is starting to gnaw at his mind, but the scribe is objectively going to chalk that down to having two hours of sleep and experiencing an uncomfortable amount of emotional energy.
calmly he asks, voice low; ]
Is it enough for you?
no subject
Instead, he feels empty, a dull ache in his chest that says he's made a mistake; and perhaps for the first time in memory he's regretting the alcohol of the night before, the things he said and did and thought that have somehow landed him here.
But the upside perhaps is that Alhaitham seems somehow mollified by the conclusion he's reached, even if it's the wrong one— even if Kaveh's not exactly sure what that conclusion is— And all he has to do is agree and surely the whole mess will be over and forgotten and he can go back to pining in silence...
In better silence, though, since he failed so miserably at it this time. ]
Yeah, [ he says, and he's lying even though he told Alhaitham that he didn't want to do that. There's no way that the man in front of him can be something convenient, something transactional. But he shrugs anyway, averts his eyes because he can't look at him while the lies are on his tongue. ] Yeah, it's enough.
[ Maybe he'll take a nap, and then go get wasted again and try to pretend this whole thing never happened. ]
no subject
[ - which is meant to be a reassuring statement, even though in this miscommunicated context it doesn't quite hit the mark. it's baffling, really, why kaveh looks so downcast when alhaitham thought he was being rather agreeable considering - had he said something off-base again? likely, although usually the other would be more than happy to make him eat his words if that was the case.
even though they were such perfect foils for one another academically, the past day had only reinforced alhaitham's theory that on personal levels, they'd never see eye to eye. whatever half step they took forward was a full step back, whether it was kaveh's stubbornness or the scribe's bluntness that triggered the next cascade - and suddenly, the finality of his fatigue collapsed on him like a tonne of bricks.
he fixes the blonde with a momentary, scrutinising look - even though kaveh had decided to avert his gaze - and lets out a quiet huff, crossing his arms over his chest. ]
You should get some rest.
[ is the final, helpful observation he offers, though even when alhaitham is being genuine it's in the same tone as the rest of his speech and kaveh will probably still take it the wrong way.
he's too exhausted to continue this train of thought with the hope of any productive outcome. if he were to be an outlet for kaveh on an impulsive basis, so be it. it was a benefit to him as well, because it was inarguably pleasant, pleasurable to have the other the way he had just before. and if that was all it would be? that's all it would be.
the silence hangs for a further second before alhaitham looks away and withdraws, the sound of bare feet against the wooden floor echoing down the hall towards his rooms, in which he then quietly disappears. ]