[ A singular moment passes when Kaveh strongly considers telling Alhaitham to shut up over the jab at the long speech that he gave— apparently always gives— but such a comment would be counterproductive after having just requested the other man share his thoughts, and so the scribe is met with a muttered "asshole" instead. And it's nice, the way he can say it without anger, accented with a chaste kiss and a soft smile, the comfort and ease in the words and the way Alhaitham's hair feels slipping through his fingers as he sketches over his crown, shapes and patterns without rhyme or reason.
The only bad thing about any of this is the ever-present hangover, the nausea and the headache combined doing their best to try and distract him from how good he feels for once.
But they fail, and Kaveh greets the trail of the scribe's hand with closed eyes and a pleased sigh, his head tilting into the touch at his ear at Alhaitham's fingers tuck back a wild lock of hair, and if the other man is indeed tracking his reactions he'll find the problem is that the architect likes everything he does, at least in this moment where he's content to bask in him, to just enjoy the peace that has settled between them at least momentarily in the wake of his confession. Nor does he complain when the scribe's questions are punctuated with kisses; each is returned with one of his own, with a slow smile that only grows, and Kaveh finds that he wants to follow up on all of the things the other has just said, wants answers to all of those questions and more.
As a scholar, he's ever-used to the feeling of curiosity, but it's ever been the airy, tickling feeling of knowledge to be uncovered. This feeling, though, is more like a smoldering ember, ready to burst into flames. ]
Driven to distraction, huh? [ He underscores the sentence with a kiss of his own, one a little slower and deeper, a glide of his tongue and a nip of his teeth the promise of more as his free hand comes to rest on Alhaitham's chest. ] Let's say I'm curious to hear about it...
What kind of work are you thinking of, Alhaitham? How can I convince you to tell me more?
Well - as much as I can be tempted to distraction; I suppose compared to most others I'm far more restrained.
[ because he'll do everything to downplay a potentially vulnerable admission, that usual cocky air taking over his speech again. today had already been a significant step for alhaitham, a man who prided himself on the fact that he appeared to the outside world as a mysterious enigma - and would like to keep it that way, too. sharing things on his mind that weren't off-the-cuff, sardonic remarks or academic material wasn't something he'd been particularly interested in adding to his wheelhouse, but even the scribe could recognise the correct timing and importance of such a thing to the man still wrapped around him in his lap.
kaveh's mouth on his is so pleasant, though, that it distracts from the discomfort of this intimacy of information, the kisses slow and purposeful unlike the fleeting ones they'd shared previous to today - the clipped, fleeting, demanding kisses driven by alcohol and frustration. the occasional graze of the blonde's teeth skillfully stirs something deep inside him that alhaitham knows would be improper to act on considering the sheer state kaveh had been in last night.
honestly, the fact that he'd even gotten up this morning was impressive, considering he'd not even been able to walk properly from one end of the room to another. truly formidable.
but as convincing as the architect can be, alhaitham's reply is the faintest hint of a smirk that plays into the next kiss. ]
It'll take me some time to come up with a reasonable trade, considering the weight of the exchange. You're no stranger to working yourself hard, though, so I imagine you'd have no trouble rising to the challenge.
[ the double entendre is, of course, on purpose coming from a scholar of semiotics, but it doesn't seem like he's trying to goad kaveh any further down this path that they found it so easy to stumble down. ]
But first - you should probably eat something, if there's a stomach left for you to fill after how much you drank last night.
[ As much as Kaveh wants to pout over his information stream being cut off when it's barely even begun, he's emotionally aware enough to understand the significance of what's happening here, that Alhaitham— who keeps his secrets closer than the Akademiya keeps knowledge— is sharing genuine thoughts and feelings with him, that it has to be in some way uncomfortable to do so, the same way it was difficult for him to be honest in the face of his own pride. Difficult enough that he nearly ruined things between the two of them beyond all repair. (And maybe that's a dramatic way of thinking of it, but it's also true.)
Still, in the end he pouts just a little, although the effect is definitely ruined at least in part by the curious quirk of his eyebrow, the hint of a curve at the corners of his lips at the suggestion that he works hard and rises to the challenge, because he knows Alhaitham well enough to know that his wording had to be deliberate.
Just as he knows him well enough to know that "you should probably eat something" is liable to be non-negotiable despite it sounding like a suggestion, despite the fact that he's not sure how much he can eat without his stomach making a noisy— and messy— protest. And most importantly despite him not wanting to move, because he's oddly comfortable like this, wrapped up in Alhaitham's arms, on his lap, on the top of a bar chair.
Yet at the same time, "but first" speaks to a kind of reward for doing those things he needs to do, doesn't it?
And so it's reluctantly that Kaveh withdraws his hands and disentangles himself from Alhaitham— although his movements are slower than they should be, interrupted and punctuated with stolen kisses— setting his bare feet on the floor and padding around to the other side of the bar counter to consider his (limited, on account of his stomach) options. ]
I'll make some toast for us.
[ 'Us' being the operative word, because if there's another thing he knows about Alhaitham, it's that he very likely hasn't had anything this morning other than coffee either. ]
And then... do you have plans for the day?
[ "Or can we lounge around the apartment like this while I kiss you over and over?" goes unsaid— but for once he's confident the scribe will read correctly between the lines. ]
[ practicality is definitely the enemy of sloth. as the blonde untangles himself from around him, alhaitham mildly regrets being a voice of reason as the warmth dissipates. the parting is softened somewhat by the gentle, affectionate kisses that kaveh peppers on him, and even though his face is even as ever - he realises he's in danger of his heart of stone being fractured by the sheer aura of affection radiating off of the architect like the morning sun beating down outside.
otherwise, yes, kaveh is absolutely correct - he hasn't eaten, because alhaitham's not a morning person. most days he rarely consumes anything but one or two cups of coffee after he drags himself out of bed, and normally he'd refuse an offer of food; but today seemed to be set on a trend of breaking conventions, so the scribe doesn't object as kaveh starts pottering around on the other side of the counter.
eyes flicking down to his empty coffee cup - hm, perhaps he should brew some more to balance out his elevated heart rate - they then fixate back on the blonde as he asks about the agenda for the day. obviously, there's a suggestion there because no-one knows his schedule as well as kaveh does; alhaitham treasures his weekends. he worked to the contractual letter of how much he needed to so he could have his evenings and weekends free, and while some interpreted this as malicious compliance (because what could such a cold man possibly want to do with all that free time?), the scribe's general rule was that this time was to simply enjoy the experience of life.
just, the enjoyment he got came from different places others would usually find it, he supposes. ]
You know I don't.
[ alhaitham replies knowingly, limber form leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on the counter and watch. because he's learned he likes to watch kaveh squirm; ]
[ He's pleased that the scribe doesn't reject his offer to make them both something to eat, and it shows in the smile on his lips as he takes a pan from the cupboard and starts heating it over the stovetop. Quite frankly, he doesn't really know how the other gets by on just coffee in the mornings. For his part at least, Kaveh is reasonably sure his brain doesn't start working properly until he's got something solid in his stomach— something that has been a problem for him before during the worst of the hangovers, when he's been too sick to eat but too busy not to.
Thankfully this morning he doesn't seem to be too bad, although he's not sure whether that's because of the water the scribe plied him with, the coffee the scribe plied him with, or just because of the scribe himself.
And as for the man at hand: he does indeed know that Alhaitham's weekends are free more often than not, but it's just proper, isn't it, not to assume that the scribe will drop everything for his benefit, to ask and give him an out if he wants it, because Kaveh knows that he can come on strong, especially now that he's not running from the matter at hand. ]
Mm, I know.
[ Perhaps it will be disappointing to the other man, though, that his words aren't met with a squirming response— for just as he knows Alhaitham's weekend schedule, he knows too that the scribe was able to read the intention of his words, that he knows exactly why Kaveh is asking him if he's free, that he is asking to get a response above all. And so instead, Kaveh rolls his eyes (again) as he pulls out two pieces of bread and lays them out on the quickly-heating pan— and maybe, just maybe, he makes sure to swing his scantily-clad hips a little as he does, because if Alhaitham's going to tease him, he's sure as hell going to tease Alhaitham. ]
I thought it might be nice to just spend the day relaxing like this.
[ Damnit. If he's going to have to be blunt about it, he is going to squirm. ]
[ at least, kaveh is putting on a brave front, but alhaitham had seen him drunk enough times to know how hard a certain amount of alcohol hit him. considering last night (and this morning's) conundrums and subsequent revelations had been largely behind the blonde's spirited drinking efforts, perhaps this new truce - relationship - would give him some true time to recover. one could only escape from their problems in new and self-destructive ways for so long, and alhaitham had discovered he was quite invested in seeing the attractive, mostly naked man in their kitchen stay in one piece.
the smell of toasting bread does something to remind him that his stomach is indeed empty, but it also encourages the scribe to get up lazily from his own seat, padding around the counter in bare feet to sort out refilling the coffee percolator. kaveh probably didn't need a second cup of anything unless it was water, but alhaitham was feeling rather more exhausted than usual, something he'd chalk down to the massive expense of emotional and empathetic energy. something he's very much not used to.
and it's a strangely calm domestic scene between the two of them as they occupy the kitchen together without arguing over minor infractions for once, kaveh cooking toast and alhaitham spooning grounds into the pot.
yes, he needed a second cup of coffee, but also - kaveh's proximity had become strangely magnetic. the scribe is certain that would become exhausting for him in some other way in the near future, but for now? on his private, completely clear weekend?
even he could go where the wind took him every once in a while. ]
What would you say we should do, then? [ his deep voice questions, tightening the lid on the percolator and placing it back on the stove - his body needlessly close to kaveh's as he does so, the bare skin of his chest brushing against kaveh's slim back. ] I just acquired some excellent novels from a sister school of ours in Inazuma, if you'd like some robust academic reading and debate. Otherwise, I'm sure Tighnari would love some unannounced houseguests, if a social engagement is more to your liking.
[ There's certainly something optimistic about the idea of being able to relax with a hangover— at least for the next few hours, anyway— but it's just that kind of a morning, Kaveh feeling good despite his body decidedly not.
...Although quite possibly the bare chest brushing lightly against his back has something to do with that. For his part, once the bread is in the pan, he can't help but lean back into the scribe a little, an extra weight against his chest that only lends more credence to the domesticity of the aura around the two of them. Kaveh's too smart to think that this ceasefire will be something permanent— even dating, Alhaitham is liable to drive him insane from time to time (and, is the begrudging post-script, vice-versa)— but at least for now it's nice.
More than nice.
He finds himself turning around to loop arms around the scribe's neck, the toasting bread temporarily put to the side in his mind— he's got a few minutes before he needs to flip it over anyway— and shaking his head; and he doesn't roll his eyes this time, but the expression on his face indicates his feeling just as well. Alhaitham is pushing, nudging, making suggestions knowing all too well what Kaveh wants from him and ugh. Maybe this isn't as much of a ceasefire as he originally thought.
Either way, his options are: to not say what he wants and likely miss out, because Alhaitham is as stubborn as a sumpter beast; or to suck it up and be honest despite the discomfort in doing so.
So he holds Alhaitham's gaze, another slight shake of his head accompanying his words as he answers: ] No. No debate, no social engagements. Just you and me, like this. [ He already tried "like this", though, didn't he? And that didn't work.
It's harder to say aloud than he would like. Until now, until this, he's never been the type to be backward in coming forward; he knows what he wants, says what he wants, does what he wants. Yet somehow his feelings became a secret as important to hide as his bankruptcy, and now that they're out there they still feel fragile and new and like even the slightest wrong move will send everything tumbling down.
It will take some time. That's all. Time to adjust to the knowledge that the other man isn't standing in front of him like this because he has to, but because he wants to.
Kaveh sighs, and sure enough his eyes start wandering away from Alhaitham's all by themselves. If the scribe wants him to squirm, then he's got his wish. ]
Just. Sit around. Enjoy each other. Make out. Maybe more, once I feel better.
[ the blonde is slightly shorter than him but their difference in height isn't so great, which means kaveh's arms slide easily around his neck when he turns around to face him. alhaitham's not complaining; even though he can't quite explain it, the intense desire to touch the other, have him against him skin-to-skin, be in proximity is quite overwhelming, especially for someone who usually wanted the exact opposite from every other being on the face of teyvat.
kaveh had always had that magnetic attraction about him ever since they were students, constantly surrounded by admirers of his intellect, looks and his charm, the third quality of which most of the akademiya scholars grossly lacked. maybe that's why alhaitham has always been somewhat in the blonde's orbit; but now that he'd forced through that barrier, the pull felt almost inescapable.
raising an eyebrow, a large hand trails down kaveh's left side in response, coming to rest just above the jut of his hip. in an annoyingly smug, measured voice; ]
Oh, that's what you meant? You should've just said so.
[ and he's being a pain in the ass, but that's the other thing he's learning he likes: hearing the architect say he wants him, that he wants to spend time with him, that he wants to be touched by him. there's something about those kinds of phrases that leave kaveh's mouth that twist something deep inside him that had remained long dormant - something the intensity of which alhaitham knows it'll take time to get used to, but intoxicating all the same.
it's endearing the way those crimson eyes can't remain on him, and even though everything about the way alhaitham's carrying himself is still the image of the stoic, cool scribe, a soft kiss still finds its way to the crown of kaveh's head. ]
But, anyway - I suppose I could fit that in. [ a pause, as he looks blankly thoughtful. ] Your door should probably get fixed, too.
You suppose you could fit that in? [ It's said with a huff, and Kaveh's arms unwind from around Alhaitham's neck and push aside the hand resting on his hip because what a jerk— not really, it's because he has to tend to the pan, but if the scribe asks it's definitely because he's a jerk— turning to the stove but staying close, enjoying if nothing else the feel of that firm chest against the line of his back. ]
Don't worry about my door, though~ I can fix it myself. [ While his job technically involves only the theoretical aspects of building, the light of Kshahrewar takes a lot of pride in his designs and isn't exactly a stranger to the concept of getting his hands dirty in order to get something just right. ] I'll just get some stuff from my office after the weekend. It's okay if it's broken until then.
[ (If this had turned out any other way, he probably would have been a little more on edge about his privacy being completely removed by a single kick, but right now? He doesn't mind so much.) ]
I still can't quite believe you kicked it in, you know. [ And maybe two can play at that game— at the teasing— Kaveh thinks, and he does his job, checks the bread briefly before turning back to the other man— he's doing a bad job at staying focused, but he's trying his best. His head is tilted in something akin to curiosity, although the smug little curve of his lips no doubt gives the game away as this time, his fingers reach to skate light across the hard line of the other's jaw. ] You were really jealous, huh?
[ As muddled as the memory is, one thing that shines clearly through is the fury burning behind those emerald eyes, the possessive grip of Alhaitham's hands on his shoulders, the low commanding voice insisting that Kaveh should be his.
[ their workplaces were so different now they were no longer students it was easy to forget that kaveh was for all intents and purposes an engineer - fixing things and building things had always come easy to him, but it wasn't often (if ever) that alhaitham got to observe him in that element. so he shrugs in agreeance, because having the blonde fix it is much cheaper than finding a tradesperson to do it - and then kaveh turns back around to face him, the current chores at hand lapsing in and out of both of their mind's eye. ]
'Kicked it in' is a bit of an exaggeration. [ the scribe replies, some incredulity lining his voice. kaveh's absolutely correct, but he's not about to admit it. ] Perhaps it just wasn't very structurally sound in the first place?
[ and maybe he sounds a bit grumpy, the flicker of a shadow casting across his face as he remembers the man he threw out last night - hopefully not a ranking member of the akademiya or anything, because he'd hate to cautioned by the matra for further 'enforcing' just how unwelcome he was anywhere near kaveh. cyno had very little tolerance for frivolous personal conflicts (which alhaitham strongly concurs with), but the scribe would make an exception... just this once. ]
I was simply taking out the trash.
[ is his dour response, though it's reminiscent of the protective demeanor he'd taken on the previous night and not that he's annoyed at kaveh. his turquoise eyes are unwavering as he watches the architect through them, the soft touch at his jaw welcome but not enough to soften the severity of his voice; ]
It is absolutely not an exaggeration— [ and there's a hint of the usual fire in his voice, because how like Alhaitham to deny it even when the evidence is literally hanging from its hinges in his room right now ] —or do you think I was too drunk to see that you used your Vision? [ Despite the heightened tone, that curve is still playing at the corners of his lips; he's not angry, far from it. How could he be when the scribe's reaction is... actually sort of cute?
(He'll never say that out loud, of course. Alhaitham would kick him out, no doubt, no hesitation.)
Instead, he raises himself on his toes just enough to ghost a soft, slow kiss over the other man's mouth, his free hand lifting now until he's cupping his jaw on both sides with slim fingers. He will, he thinks, probably have to track down the man in question (whatever his name was) and apologize to him at some point— not for Alhaitham's behavior but for his own, for getting him twisted up in that situation in the first place—
But that's for later, when he can't smell the bread starting to brown at his back, feel the cool length of Alhaitham's muscled body along his own suppler form, taste the bitter richness of black coffee on the scribe's lips. And he could tease, could ask Alhaitham if he counts himself as "better", but he can't help but take mercy at that sourness in the other's voice. There's something deep there among that protective energy, a dark possessiveness that makes him tremble, something he wants to dig at and dig at until he uncovers it completely for himself— but there's plenty of time for that. ]
Mm. Could've— [ he murmurs instead, then, not breaking away just yet (there's at least a little more time before he needs to go back to the stove) ] —or already have?
[ artfully dodging the question, because that loss of composure was still surprising even to him. there isn't a time he can recall in recent past that he'd lost his temper so much that it had drawn vision power out of him, a completely uncharacteristic action - and it'd be something he'd have to examine later, how something could've gotten so far under his skin. in general, his vision wasn't something he paid much attention to save for its practical purpose, but in this situation? mm. a minor concern.
but the train of thought is somewhat interrupted by kaveh's gentle lips and his hands on either side of his face, and it's so very difficult to brood when there's such a pleasant distraction right at his feet. huffing quietly at the (actually quite meaningful) murmur from the man pressed against him in front of the stove, alhaitham looks down long lashes as his right hand mirrors his left on kaveh's other hip. his grip is soft but firm, asserting his own answer to the question. ]
I'd be insulted if you suggested I was otherwise.
[ he says curtly, pulling the blonde's form languidly forward into his own. if they were close before, they were flush now, alhaitham's long fingers curling softly into kaveh's hips. their faces are inches apart, lips brushing against one another - and his deep voice rumbles slightly against the blonde's. ]
Really, you've shot yourself in the foot with all this considering you have to sing my praises now. How are you going to get rid of all that pent up energy you use to yell at me all the time?
[ It's not really that artful of a dodge when it's completely obvious to Kaveh what Alhaitham is doing. But at least for now, he lets him have it, although there's still a quiet protest in there— "I know I was drunk, but I still have eyes"— as he lets the scribe tug him closer until their bodies are flush, and Kaveh's smirk becomes a proper smile in response to his words, to the curt tone of his voice and the incongruity of a grip that is both soft and firm.
And maybe he should point out that just because he's admitted to being in love with Alhaitham, it doesn't stop the scribe from annoying him more often than not, and nor will it stop him from complaining stridently about it... but he's a little too busy being enamored, to enjoying the way he feels both warm and cool, content and needy all at once. Besides, there was something latently suggestive in the other man's words, and that's simply not an opportunity he can let pass. ]
I can think of a few ways.
[ It's murmured in time with a broadening smile, a half-step to slide his left leg between Alhaitham's... only for him to stop as a wisp of aroma hits his nostrils from behind, the nice brown of the toasted bread quickly on its way to a less desirable shade. ]
Oh, for fuck's sake, [ Kaveh sighs as he extricates himself from Alhaitham's hold— seriously, why is toast so infernally quick to burn?— turning back to the stove to quickly flip it over in the pan. Honestly, he's less irritated about the slight tinge of burnt around the toast's edges, and more about the fact that he had to step away from the scribe's embrace, and it shows in the way he huffs and pushes the bread around the pan. ] Food is stupid.
[ there's a quiet snort at kaveh's lament, though alhaitham hadn't been paying much attention to his chore either. luckily, it was pretty hard to burn coffee in a percolator, unlike the bread in a hot pan - and sure enough, the acrid smell of burnt permeates the kitchen thanks to their combined distraction. ]
Food is necessary.
[ the scribe corrects, though he's almost tempted to agree with 'stupid' considering it interrupted kaveh's bare leg travelling up the inside of his thigh. ]
If you're in no condition to toast bread, there's the market down the street. [ is his very helpful offer, considering neither of them seemed to be in a condition focused enough to do any complex task at the moment. last night had been late, and this morning had been - well - an event. ] I suppose I could treat you to something as a commiseration for your door being so poorly constructed.
[ and it's very unlike him to offer anything, really, but there's an underlying concern that kaveh's blood alcohol level was still astronomical and perhaps it's selfish, but alhaitham would rather like him in a healthy, robust condition to... continue whatever this was. he had a whole weekend ahead of him, after all - the perfect time to revel in a myriad of things:
books, food, the blonde swearing in front of him. life's simple, but very appealing pleasures. ]
Then again, it would be remiss of me to suggest you put on more clothes. [ alhaitham muses thoughtfully as if thinking over the argument of an academic text, turquoise eyes dragging appraisingly over kaveh's form. ] I'm rather enjoying the morning view.
You say necessary, I say stupid... stuff can be two things, Alhaitham.
[ Okay, so it's not exactly the most thought-out or well-worded argument Kaveh has ever made, but he's hungover, and frustrated in more than one way, and where just a few minutes ago he would have said he wasn't hungry, he's forced to question that internal claim by the loss of the toast— because as the acrid taste of burning becomes stronger in the air, he knows there's no way he's going to eat what's still in the pan. He sighs, pulling the pan off the heat and setting about replacing the bread.
On some level, Alhaitham's suggestion— to go out for food— is a wise one. (Plus, how often does the scribe offer to treat him to breakfast?) But on so many others, he can't help but immediately reject the idea: one, the food at the market is liable to be richer than he thinks he can handle right now; two, he's honestly quite enjoying himself in the kitchen this morning, in spite of the burnt toast; three, Alhaitham is enjoying the view.
That last one feels particularly important. ]
Well, enjoy the view as much as you want~ [ And how is it that, despite the deep-rooted irritation at himself, he can still manage a smug little smile, a playful sway of his hips as he shoots the barest of glimpses over his shoulder at the scribe? ] But no touching until we have two slices of perfectly-toasted bread.
[ Somehow, it feels like this is going to be even more torturous than the last few weeks. Which of course is a stupid thought and something he acknowledges— even as he thinks it— as very obviously hyperbolic, but one that has him sulking to himself as he sets the pan back on the heat again, this time with two fresh pieces of bread in its base. ]
Stupid is subjective, [ he corrects, his arguments still as annoyingly precise despite the scene in the kitchen. ] - but necessary is objective. You really did drink a lot last night, huh?
[ it's a rhetorical question, because kaveh's right - even despite last night's revelation, it was still obvious that they'd continually rub each other the wrong way, say the wrong thing and constantly get on one another's nerves. but, there was more context to it now, more incentive for peace and understanding rather than senseless combativeness.
flying in the face of that, alhaitham does the exact opposite of what kaveh instructs as the other turns back around to the stove, long arms sliding underneath the architect's from behind and circling his waist for his hands to meet clasped at kaveh's stomach. there's only a couple of inches between them, but the scribe uses this angle to simply hold the other against his chest, the blonde as warm and as inviting as ever.
he'd had to look and not touch for so long, he wasn't about to let carbohydrates get in the way of being selfish - and to that end, one of his thumbs strokes lazily over the muscular lines of kaveh's stomach. ]
I don't feel like agreeing to that. [ alhaitham murmurs evenly, his mouth brushing hotly against the other's temple and the blonde hair falling out of the bun there. ] I'd rather buy the whole market out than be banned from touching you for the sake of two pieces of bread. How ridiculous.
[ Of course Alhaitham's response to being told not to do something is to immediately do it. Kaveh's not sure why he's surprised when the scribe is known as a contrarian even among those with whom he is significantly less acquainted, but he is, a muted sound on his lips a frustrated mingling of that feeling with something much more acquiescent and accepting. The latter is all too evident in the way his body leans willingly back into the other's touch, left hand lifting to cover one of those locked over his stomach even as he sighs (and oh, it's such a pained, suffering sigh) and uses his right to remove the pan from the heat once more. ]
Mm, but it'll only take five minutes to toast bread, [ he points out, the pedantry something of a whine in the back of his throat. ] Buying the market out means putting on clothes, and leaving the house, and walking down there...
[ And Kaveh doesn't want to do any of those things. Kaveh wants to stay here, with Alhaitham tantalizingly close, a temptation he tells himself firmly that he can ignore for five minutes even as he knows that he can't. Realistically, the market option is probably wiser if only because in public they would both be forced to keep their hands at least partially to themselves, which would make it easier to focus on the task at hand.
The task, of course, being breakfast.
It's getting harder by the second to remember that.
Kaveh turns off the heat before letting his eyes close, sinking back fully into the circle of Alhaitham's arms with another sigh— this one notably soft and content. ]
Do we have to eat? Can't we just stay here like this?
[ - is alhaitham's matter-of-fact response as kaveh leans into his hold. he weighs little to him, solidly built but lithe as anything, all wiry muscle and graceful curves. kaveh's the one who's light on his feet and makes anything he does look like a breeze, just a warm summer wind passing through; whereas alhaitham is the one who is much more grounded, stable as a rock (and about as personable as one, too). ]
I don't need something to soak up all the alcohol I downed without a second thought last night, [ - which sounds a little like he's chastising kaveh because he absolutely is in that way he always does, but this time it's a barb without an edge, murmured into the soft skin of the blonde's neck just below his ear. ] - unlike you, who is lucky to still have a functional liver. Medical scholars are stunned.
[ he mildly regrets suggesting the endeavour in the first place, even though it's absolutely something kaveh requires, if simply because he could've gotten his hands over so much more of the other by now - explored more, analysed more. maybe that's selfish, that his mind is somewhat singularly focused on the vision splayed against his chest right now, but alhaitham is absolutely fine with serving his own self interest every now and then.
still...
mm. he huffs a short sigh into the crook of kaveh's neck, trying not to take note of the enticing scent of exotic cologne on his skin and feeling of his pulse underneath his lips. ]
I suppose I should let you finish - I just don't want to.
None of the alcohol was "downed without a second thought".
[ And yes, Kaveh makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers as he huffs out the words, voice argumentative and arch despite the contented little smile on his lips, the way he practically melts back into the gust of breath at his neck. ]
I was only drinking in the first place to try to forget about the way I was feeling. Something for which, I might add, you are responsible.
[ There is of course something deeper to unpack there, even if the architect will never admit it even to himself. Kaveh has had a habit of getting drunk when depressed for a long time now, and this latest reason is just one more symptom rather than the root cause.
But a symptom eased is a symptom all but forgotten, and this particular ailment has been alleviated by the muscled arms around his waist and the lips at his neck and the low rumbling voice admitting that Alhaitham doesn't want to let him go. His brain, caught up in the warmth permeating through the moment, is too content to worry back over his debt or his reputation or any of those other issues in his life that exacerbate his bad habits.
And with the stove off again, so too has it given up on worrying about the toast; Kaveh turns once more in Alhaitham's arms and just looks at him in comfortable silence for a few seconds before grazing his lips over the taller man's, a warm little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ]
Then don't.
[ Time and coffee are already working in his favor, and while there's no denying that food would help him further, he can't say he minds putting it off a little in favor of enjoying Alhaitham like this. He's going to feel sick for a while regardless, so what does it matter?
His arms loop around the scribe's neck and lock at its nape as Kaveh presses another kiss to the corner of his lips. ]
I'm responsible? [ alhaitham replies in mild disbelief as kaveh turns back around to face him. ] I can hardly be responsible for something I didn't even know about until you graciously decided to blurt it out all at once.
[ the chores they'd been attending to at the stove now sit cooling and forgotten, which is probably for the best, really - distraction was only one step away from a house fire, and after the door taking a beating the previous night, alhaitham's happy not to have to worry about more damage.
yes, he should probably let kaveh eat, and yes, part of him does want the rapidly cooling (and likely slightly burnt) coffee in the percolator at the back of the stove, but at this juncture? he wasn't willing to trade the man in his arms for it. selfish, selfish, selfish. ]
Fine. [ alhaitham acquiesces, gaze inscrutable as slim arms sling around his neck and kaveh's lips brush against his own again. oh, the blonde was trouble. ] But, in that case -
[ and without much warning, the scribe easily but carefully picks kaveh up from the ground in a bridal style hold, because it always seems to be the first method to come to his mind rather than actually suggesting they go somewhere. glancing down at the other in all seriousness, eyes distantly fond; ]
- we're going back to bed.
[ by that, he means his bed, of course - not one that reminded him of the blonde tousling with other nameless faces, because that was still a hill he needed to climb without claws of fury dragging him back down it. bare feet padding against the polished wood of the house as he carries kaveh through it, alhaitham adds; ]
And don't take this necessarily as a suggestion. [ even though he'd already entertained that rather alluring possibility. ] You're unwell, I'm still tired. Bed's the sensible place to be.
[ To be entirely fair, Kaveh isn't sure what he's expecting Alhaitham to do— and yet he's not expecting to be lifted into the scribe's arms all of a sudden, one strong limb curled under his legs and the other supporting his back. The resultant response is something of a yelp, half-indignant and half-protesting, although once he finds himself actually embraced in the other man's hold, he's remarkably quick to settle, his body canting into the other's broad figure, his own fingers remaining linked at the back of his neck.
His face shifts to nuzzle itself into the space under Alhaitham's chin, a brush of lips against his larynx, down over the hollow of his neck, willfully inhaling the mingled scents of clean skin and musky cologne that embrace his senses.
There's no need for verbal clarification; even without asking, without looking up to see where they're going, he knows the layout of the house well enough to realize they're headed to the scribe's bedroom, not his own, and despite the taller man's words— Bed's the sensible place to be— Kaveh can't help the heat that stirs to life in his abdomen at the thought, the knowledge, that he's being taken to Alhaitham's bed.
And so he marks his disapproval of the scribe's words with a nip of his teeth against sensitive skin, just a hint sharper in action than he should be, a scolding without any real desire to hurt. ]
What if I want to take it as a suggestion, hm? You're allowed to clarify your meaning, but you know just as well as I do that I will ascribe my own understanding to the things you say, whether originally intended or not.
[ An academic argument by all counts, even if the reasoning behind it is far less scholastic. Alhaitham isn't the only one of them wanting to be selfish right now. ]
You are, of course, right - as usual, you'll do as you like regardless of what I say.
[ is the scribe's flippant reply, hoping that he sounds as unaffected as he'd like to despite the soft lips against the sensitive skin of his neck and the graze of teeth in protest. what's even worse is when kaveh decides to fully switch on that ridiculous mind of his, flaunting clinical, scholarly words in a sultry context - and yes, it's just another exasperating reminder of why the man in his arms is so worthy in every sense of the word.
nudging the door to his rooms open with the side of his foot, alhaitham lets them both in. the warm midday sun is still filtering lazily through the stained glass windows, throwing light over a bedroom that's so very much his - meticulously clean and looked after in almost every regard except for the stacks of books that pepper the place, left on almost every flat surface that wasn't the floor in varying clusters of relevance. even his bed is freshly made, being part of his routine after he (reluctantly) gets up for the day, but it's one chore he's willing to resign himself to doing again.
it takes little effort to place the blonde down on top of the covers, again, more gently than one would expect from someone with such a surly persona; and he lies down next to him immediately after, sinking into the plush surface with a sigh that could be argued as being content.
he doesn't, however, relinquish all contact though (because why would he do that?). alhaitham is stubborn, bossy, and simply pulls kaveh into him as he lies on his back, arms wrapping around the architect in a way that says 'mine' without using any words.
if he slips his eyes closed, perhaps kaveh won't notice how satisfied he is in this moment. ]
Do you have any further theses you'd like to discuss, or was that it?
[ Alhaitham's sigh ends up being an echo of Kaveh's, the blonde contentedly stretching out and allowing himself to sink into the softness of the bed in almost the same second that his back is laid out on it, a gratification that also shows in his smile as the scribe settles next to him, wrapping arms around him to pull him close.
Admittedly, the wordless greediness in the embrace has him wondering a little: how didn't he pick up on this sooner? But those are thoughts for later, not to dwell on now. Now is the time for rolling over within the circle of those arms, shifting himself so that he can look down at those closed eyes, at the sharp cut of that jaw,
the nearly-imperceptible warmth that only years of familiarity allows him to see.
Absent-mindedly, his fingers lift, tracing the hard lines of Alhaitham's lips. ]
Mm, I suppose at some point I'd like to put forth an inquiry into your habit of kicking doors open— [ even though this time it was far gentler and actually made sense given the blonde being carried in his arms ] —but I think for now that's everything.
[ Fingers are followed by his thumb, a slow skate of the digit over Alhaitham's lower lip, tracing the path of an upward lift that Kaveh can see even if isn't really there, and then his hand drops to cup the scribe's jaw as its place at the other's mouth is replaced with a soft but firm press of his own, lips slotting together in a kiss both sweet and insistent.
And Kaveh sighs in content, because he's wanted this for far too long. ]
[ 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. ]
[ Kaveh breaks the kiss with the words— something he doesn't actually want to do, if he's honest, but is serving in the moment as a type of punishment— and he pulls back to look down at Alhaitham, hand shifting back to thumb and tug at the scribe's lower lip. The close way the other man holds him, and the low, purposeful dip of the hand at his spine don't help, very much make him want to give in and kiss him until they're both breathless; but at least for now his willpower holds, carmine eyes taking in the other's features as he holds his face just out of reach. ]
This morning, yes. But we both know that last night called for no such thing.
[ Hadn't he only just decided to take mercy on Alhaitham in regards to this exact topic? Yet it's a mercy pushed aside in favor of teasing, his free hand moving to splay wide over the other's chest, the fingers at his mouth giving another little tug at his lower lip. That possessive darkness that had glimmered in the air as clearly as the tell-tale lights of Alhaitham's Vision— yes, it's still very much something Kaveh wants to unwrap. Even if it means teasing him about it. ]
You can call it "taking out the trash" as much as you want, but you should at least admit that you were jealous. [ Something of a playful, teasing light glimmers behind ruby irises as he thumbs at Alhaitham's lip again. ] ...Mm, you could even say I demand it.
[ Translation: no, he's not out of demands. Nor is he ever likely to be, at least when it comes to the man spread out underneath him right now, all silver hair and contented face and muscled body. ]
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sempiternals2023-02-11 10:39 pm
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The only bad thing about any of this is the ever-present hangover, the nausea and the headache combined doing their best to try and distract him from how good he feels for once.
But they fail, and Kaveh greets the trail of the scribe's hand with closed eyes and a pleased sigh, his head tilting into the touch at his ear at Alhaitham's fingers tuck back a wild lock of hair, and if the other man is indeed tracking his reactions he'll find the problem is that the architect likes everything he does, at least in this moment where he's content to bask in him, to just enjoy the peace that has settled between them at least momentarily in the wake of his confession. Nor does he complain when the scribe's questions are punctuated with kisses; each is returned with one of his own, with a slow smile that only grows, and Kaveh finds that he wants to follow up on all of the things the other has just said, wants answers to all of those questions and more.
As a scholar, he's ever-used to the feeling of curiosity, but it's ever been the airy, tickling feeling of knowledge to be uncovered. This feeling, though, is more like a smoldering ember, ready to burst into flames. ]
Driven to distraction, huh? [ He underscores the sentence with a kiss of his own, one a little slower and deeper, a glide of his tongue and a nip of his teeth the promise of more as his free hand comes to rest on Alhaitham's chest. ] Let's say I'm curious to hear about it...
What kind of work are you thinking of, Alhaitham? How can I convince you to tell me more?
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[ because he'll do everything to downplay a potentially vulnerable admission, that usual cocky air taking over his speech again. today had already been a significant step for alhaitham, a man who prided himself on the fact that he appeared to the outside world as a mysterious enigma - and would like to keep it that way, too. sharing things on his mind that weren't off-the-cuff, sardonic remarks or academic material wasn't something he'd been particularly interested in adding to his wheelhouse, but even the scribe could recognise the correct timing and importance of such a thing to the man still wrapped around him in his lap.
kaveh's mouth on his is so pleasant, though, that it distracts from the discomfort of this intimacy of information, the kisses slow and purposeful unlike the fleeting ones they'd shared previous to today - the clipped, fleeting, demanding kisses driven by alcohol and frustration. the occasional graze of the blonde's teeth skillfully stirs something deep inside him that alhaitham knows would be improper to act on considering the sheer state kaveh had been in last night.
honestly, the fact that he'd even gotten up this morning was impressive, considering he'd not even been able to walk properly from one end of the room to another. truly formidable.
but as convincing as the architect can be, alhaitham's reply is the faintest hint of a smirk that plays into the next kiss. ]
It'll take me some time to come up with a reasonable trade, considering the weight of the exchange. You're no stranger to working yourself hard, though, so I imagine you'd have no trouble rising to the challenge.
[ the double entendre is, of course, on purpose coming from a scholar of semiotics, but it doesn't seem like he's trying to goad kaveh any further down this path that they found it so easy to stumble down. ]
But first - you should probably eat something, if there's a stomach left for you to fill after how much you drank last night.
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Still, in the end he pouts just a little, although the effect is definitely ruined at least in part by the curious quirk of his eyebrow, the hint of a curve at the corners of his lips at the suggestion that he works hard and rises to the challenge, because he knows Alhaitham well enough to know that his wording had to be deliberate.
Just as he knows him well enough to know that "you should probably eat something" is liable to be non-negotiable despite it sounding like a suggestion, despite the fact that he's not sure how much he can eat without his stomach making a noisy— and messy— protest. And most importantly despite him not wanting to move, because he's oddly comfortable like this, wrapped up in Alhaitham's arms, on his lap, on the top of a bar chair.
Yet at the same time, "but first" speaks to a kind of reward for doing those things he needs to do, doesn't it?
And so it's reluctantly that Kaveh withdraws his hands and disentangles himself from Alhaitham— although his movements are slower than they should be, interrupted and punctuated with stolen kisses— setting his bare feet on the floor and padding around to the other side of the bar counter to consider his (limited, on account of his stomach) options. ]
I'll make some toast for us.
[ 'Us' being the operative word, because if there's another thing he knows about Alhaitham, it's that he very likely hasn't had anything this morning other than coffee either. ]
And then... do you have plans for the day?
[ "Or can we lounge around the apartment like this while I kiss you over and over?" goes unsaid— but for once he's confident the scribe will read correctly between the lines. ]
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otherwise, yes, kaveh is absolutely correct - he hasn't eaten, because alhaitham's not a morning person. most days he rarely consumes anything but one or two cups of coffee after he drags himself out of bed, and normally he'd refuse an offer of food; but today seemed to be set on a trend of breaking conventions, so the scribe doesn't object as kaveh starts pottering around on the other side of the counter.
eyes flicking down to his empty coffee cup - hm, perhaps he should brew some more to balance out his elevated heart rate - they then fixate back on the blonde as he asks about the agenda for the day. obviously, there's a suggestion there because no-one knows his schedule as well as kaveh does; alhaitham treasures his weekends. he worked to the contractual letter of how much he needed to so he could have his evenings and weekends free, and while some interpreted this as malicious compliance (because what could such a cold man possibly want to do with all that free time?), the scribe's general rule was that this time was to simply enjoy the experience of life.
just, the enjoyment he got came from different places others would usually find it, he supposes. ]
You know I don't.
[ alhaitham replies knowingly, limber form leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on the counter and watch. because he's learned he likes to watch kaveh squirm; ]
Were you going to suggest something?
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Thankfully this morning he doesn't seem to be too bad, although he's not sure whether that's because of the water the scribe plied him with, the coffee the scribe plied him with, or just because of the scribe himself.
And as for the man at hand: he does indeed know that Alhaitham's weekends are free more often than not, but it's just proper, isn't it, not to assume that the scribe will drop everything for his benefit, to ask and give him an out if he wants it, because Kaveh knows that he can come on strong, especially now that he's not running from the matter at hand. ]
Mm, I know.
[ Perhaps it will be disappointing to the other man, though, that his words aren't met with a squirming response— for just as he knows Alhaitham's weekend schedule, he knows too that the scribe was able to read the intention of his words, that he knows exactly why Kaveh is asking him if he's free, that he is asking to get a response above all. And so instead, Kaveh rolls his eyes (again) as he pulls out two pieces of bread and lays them out on the quickly-heating pan— and maybe, just maybe, he makes sure to swing his scantily-clad hips a little as he does, because if Alhaitham's going to tease him, he's sure as hell going to tease Alhaitham. ]
I thought it might be nice to just spend the day relaxing like this.
[ Damnit. If he's going to have to be blunt about it, he is going to squirm. ]
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[ at least, kaveh is putting on a brave front, but alhaitham had seen him drunk enough times to know how hard a certain amount of alcohol hit him. considering last night (and this morning's) conundrums and subsequent revelations had been largely behind the blonde's spirited drinking efforts, perhaps this new truce - relationship - would give him some true time to recover. one could only escape from their problems in new and self-destructive ways for so long, and alhaitham had discovered he was quite invested in seeing the attractive, mostly naked man in their kitchen stay in one piece.
the smell of toasting bread does something to remind him that his stomach is indeed empty, but it also encourages the scribe to get up lazily from his own seat, padding around the counter in bare feet to sort out refilling the coffee percolator. kaveh probably didn't need a second cup of anything unless it was water, but alhaitham was feeling rather more exhausted than usual, something he'd chalk down to the massive expense of emotional and empathetic energy. something he's very much not used to.
and it's a strangely calm domestic scene between the two of them as they occupy the kitchen together without arguing over minor infractions for once, kaveh cooking toast and alhaitham spooning grounds into the pot.
yes, he needed a second cup of coffee, but also - kaveh's proximity had become strangely magnetic. the scribe is certain that would become exhausting for him in some other way in the near future, but for now? on his private, completely clear weekend?
even he could go where the wind took him every once in a while. ]
What would you say we should do, then? [ his deep voice questions, tightening the lid on the percolator and placing it back on the stove - his body needlessly close to kaveh's as he does so, the bare skin of his chest brushing against kaveh's slim back. ] I just acquired some excellent novels from a sister school of ours in Inazuma, if you'd like some robust academic reading and debate. Otherwise, I'm sure Tighnari would love some unannounced houseguests, if a social engagement is more to your liking.
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...Although quite possibly the bare chest brushing lightly against his back has something to do with that. For his part, once the bread is in the pan, he can't help but lean back into the scribe a little, an extra weight against his chest that only lends more credence to the domesticity of the aura around the two of them. Kaveh's too smart to think that this ceasefire will be something permanent— even dating, Alhaitham is liable to drive him insane from time to time (and, is the begrudging post-script, vice-versa)— but at least for now it's nice.
More than nice.
He finds himself turning around to loop arms around the scribe's neck, the toasting bread temporarily put to the side in his mind— he's got a few minutes before he needs to flip it over anyway— and shaking his head; and he doesn't roll his eyes this time, but the expression on his face indicates his feeling just as well. Alhaitham is pushing, nudging, making suggestions knowing all too well what Kaveh wants from him and ugh. Maybe this isn't as much of a ceasefire as he originally thought.
Either way, his options are: to not say what he wants and likely miss out, because Alhaitham is as stubborn as a sumpter beast; or to suck it up and be honest despite the discomfort in doing so.
So he holds Alhaitham's gaze, another slight shake of his head accompanying his words as he answers: ] No. No debate, no social engagements. Just you and me, like this. [ He already tried "like this", though, didn't he? And that didn't work.
It's harder to say aloud than he would like. Until now, until this, he's never been the type to be backward in coming forward; he knows what he wants, says what he wants, does what he wants. Yet somehow his feelings became a secret as important to hide as his bankruptcy, and now that they're out there they still feel fragile and new and like even the slightest wrong move will send everything tumbling down.
It will take some time. That's all. Time to adjust to the knowledge that the other man isn't standing in front of him like this because he has to, but because he wants to.
Kaveh sighs, and sure enough his eyes start wandering away from Alhaitham's all by themselves. If the scribe wants him to squirm, then he's got his wish. ]
Just. Sit around. Enjoy each other. Make out. Maybe more, once I feel better.
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kaveh had always had that magnetic attraction about him ever since they were students, constantly surrounded by admirers of his intellect, looks and his charm, the third quality of which most of the akademiya scholars grossly lacked. maybe that's why alhaitham has always been somewhat in the blonde's orbit; but now that he'd forced through that barrier, the pull felt almost inescapable.
raising an eyebrow, a large hand trails down kaveh's left side in response, coming to rest just above the jut of his hip. in an annoyingly smug, measured voice; ]
Oh, that's what you meant? You should've just said so.
[ and he's being a pain in the ass, but that's the other thing he's learning he likes: hearing the architect say he wants him, that he wants to spend time with him, that he wants to be touched by him. there's something about those kinds of phrases that leave kaveh's mouth that twist something deep inside him that had remained long dormant - something the intensity of which alhaitham knows it'll take time to get used to, but intoxicating all the same.
it's endearing the way those crimson eyes can't remain on him, and even though everything about the way alhaitham's carrying himself is still the image of the stoic, cool scribe, a soft kiss still finds its way to the crown of kaveh's head. ]
But, anyway - I suppose I could fit that in. [ a pause, as he looks blankly thoughtful. ] Your door should probably get fixed, too.
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Don't worry about my door, though~ I can fix it myself. [ While his job technically involves only the theoretical aspects of building, the light of Kshahrewar takes a lot of pride in his designs and isn't exactly a stranger to the concept of getting his hands dirty in order to get something just right. ] I'll just get some stuff from my office after the weekend. It's okay if it's broken until then.
[ (If this had turned out any other way, he probably would have been a little more on edge about his privacy being completely removed by a single kick, but right now? He doesn't mind so much.) ]
I still can't quite believe you kicked it in, you know. [ And maybe two can play at that game— at the teasing— Kaveh thinks, and he does his job, checks the bread briefly before turning back to the other man— he's doing a bad job at staying focused, but he's trying his best. His head is tilted in something akin to curiosity, although the smug little curve of his lips no doubt gives the game away as this time, his fingers reach to skate light across the hard line of the other's jaw. ] You were really jealous, huh?
[ As muddled as the memory is, one thing that shines clearly through is the fury burning behind those emerald eyes, the possessive grip of Alhaitham's hands on his shoulders, the low commanding voice insisting that Kaveh should be his.
The shiver that passes through him is visceral.
Ugh. He needs a better poker face. ]
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[ their workplaces were so different now they were no longer students it was easy to forget that kaveh was for all intents and purposes an engineer - fixing things and building things had always come easy to him, but it wasn't often (if ever) that alhaitham got to observe him in that element. so he shrugs in agreeance, because having the blonde fix it is much cheaper than finding a tradesperson to do it - and then kaveh turns back around to face him, the current chores at hand lapsing in and out of both of their mind's eye. ]
'Kicked it in' is a bit of an exaggeration. [ the scribe replies, some incredulity lining his voice. kaveh's absolutely correct, but he's not about to admit it. ] Perhaps it just wasn't very structurally sound in the first place?
[ and maybe he sounds a bit grumpy, the flicker of a shadow casting across his face as he remembers the man he threw out last night - hopefully not a ranking member of the akademiya or anything, because he'd hate to cautioned by the matra for further 'enforcing' just how unwelcome he was anywhere near kaveh. cyno had very little tolerance for frivolous personal conflicts (which alhaitham strongly concurs with), but the scribe would make an exception... just this once. ]
I was simply taking out the trash.
[ is his dour response, though it's reminiscent of the protective demeanor he'd taken on the previous night and not that he's annoyed at kaveh. his turquoise eyes are unwavering as he watches the architect through them, the soft touch at his jaw welcome but not enough to soften the severity of his voice; ]
You could've done far better, is all.
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(He'll never say that out loud, of course. Alhaitham would kick him out, no doubt, no hesitation.)
Instead, he raises himself on his toes just enough to ghost a soft, slow kiss over the other man's mouth, his free hand lifting now until he's cupping his jaw on both sides with slim fingers. He will, he thinks, probably have to track down the man in question (whatever his name was) and apologize to him at some point— not for Alhaitham's behavior but for his own, for getting him twisted up in that situation in the first place—
But that's for later, when he can't smell the bread starting to brown at his back, feel the cool length of Alhaitham's muscled body along his own suppler form, taste the bitter richness of black coffee on the scribe's lips. And he could tease, could ask Alhaitham if he counts himself as "better", but he can't help but take mercy at that sourness in the other's voice. There's something deep there among that protective energy, a dark possessiveness that makes him tremble, something he wants to dig at and dig at until he uncovers it completely for himself— but there's plenty of time for that. ]
Mm. Could've— [ he murmurs instead, then, not breaking away just yet (there's at least a little more time before he needs to go back to the stove) ] —or already have?
no subject
[ and he shoots a look at kaveh. ]
You couldn't walk. Yeah, you were too drunk.
[ artfully dodging the question, because that loss of composure was still surprising even to him. there isn't a time he can recall in recent past that he'd lost his temper so much that it had drawn vision power out of him, a completely uncharacteristic action - and it'd be something he'd have to examine later, how something could've gotten so far under his skin. in general, his vision wasn't something he paid much attention to save for its practical purpose, but in this situation? mm. a minor concern.
but the train of thought is somewhat interrupted by kaveh's gentle lips and his hands on either side of his face, and it's so very difficult to brood when there's such a pleasant distraction right at his feet. huffing quietly at the (actually quite meaningful) murmur from the man pressed against him in front of the stove, alhaitham looks down long lashes as his right hand mirrors his left on kaveh's other hip. his grip is soft but firm, asserting his own answer to the question. ]
I'd be insulted if you suggested I was otherwise.
[ he says curtly, pulling the blonde's form languidly forward into his own. if they were close before, they were flush now, alhaitham's long fingers curling softly into kaveh's hips. their faces are inches apart, lips brushing against one another - and his deep voice rumbles slightly against the blonde's. ]
Really, you've shot yourself in the foot with all this considering you have to sing my praises now. How are you going to get rid of all that pent up energy you use to yell at me all the time?
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And maybe he should point out that just because he's admitted to being in love with Alhaitham, it doesn't stop the scribe from annoying him more often than not, and nor will it stop him from complaining stridently about it... but he's a little too busy being enamored, to enjoying the way he feels both warm and cool, content and needy all at once. Besides, there was something latently suggestive in the other man's words, and that's simply not an opportunity he can let pass. ]
I can think of a few ways.
[ It's murmured in time with a broadening smile, a half-step to slide his left leg between Alhaitham's... only for him to stop as a wisp of aroma hits his nostrils from behind, the nice brown of the toasted bread quickly on its way to a less desirable shade. ]
Oh, for fuck's sake, [ Kaveh sighs as he extricates himself from Alhaitham's hold— seriously, why is toast so infernally quick to burn?— turning back to the stove to quickly flip it over in the pan. Honestly, he's less irritated about the slight tinge of burnt around the toast's edges, and more about the fact that he had to step away from the scribe's embrace, and it shows in the way he huffs and pushes the bread around the pan. ] Food is stupid.
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Food is necessary.
[ the scribe corrects, though he's almost tempted to agree with 'stupid' considering it interrupted kaveh's bare leg travelling up the inside of his thigh. ]
If you're in no condition to toast bread, there's the market down the street. [ is his very helpful offer, considering neither of them seemed to be in a condition focused enough to do any complex task at the moment. last night had been late, and this morning had been - well - an event. ] I suppose I could treat you to something as a commiseration for your door being so poorly constructed.
[ and it's very unlike him to offer anything, really, but there's an underlying concern that kaveh's blood alcohol level was still astronomical and perhaps it's selfish, but alhaitham would rather like him in a healthy, robust condition to... continue whatever this was. he had a whole weekend ahead of him, after all - the perfect time to revel in a myriad of things:
books, food, the blonde swearing in front of him. life's simple, but very appealing pleasures. ]
Then again, it would be remiss of me to suggest you put on more clothes. [ alhaitham muses thoughtfully as if thinking over the argument of an academic text, turquoise eyes dragging appraisingly over kaveh's form. ] I'm rather enjoying the morning view.
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[ Okay, so it's not exactly the most thought-out or well-worded argument Kaveh has ever made, but he's hungover, and frustrated in more than one way, and where just a few minutes ago he would have said he wasn't hungry, he's forced to question that internal claim by the loss of the toast— because as the acrid taste of burning becomes stronger in the air, he knows there's no way he's going to eat what's still in the pan. He sighs, pulling the pan off the heat and setting about replacing the bread.
On some level, Alhaitham's suggestion— to go out for food— is a wise one. (Plus, how often does the scribe offer to treat him to breakfast?) But on so many others, he can't help but immediately reject the idea: one, the food at the market is liable to be richer than he thinks he can handle right now; two, he's honestly quite enjoying himself in the kitchen this morning, in spite of the burnt toast; three, Alhaitham is enjoying the view.
That last one feels particularly important. ]
Well, enjoy the view as much as you want~ [ And how is it that, despite the deep-rooted irritation at himself, he can still manage a smug little smile, a playful sway of his hips as he shoots the barest of glimpses over his shoulder at the scribe? ] But no touching until we have two slices of perfectly-toasted bread.
[ Somehow, it feels like this is going to be even more torturous than the last few weeks. Which of course is a stupid thought and something he acknowledges— even as he thinks it— as very obviously hyperbolic, but one that has him sulking to himself as he sets the pan back on the heat again, this time with two fresh pieces of bread in its base. ]
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[ it's a rhetorical question, because kaveh's right - even despite last night's revelation, it was still obvious that they'd continually rub each other the wrong way, say the wrong thing and constantly get on one another's nerves. but, there was more context to it now, more incentive for peace and understanding rather than senseless combativeness.
flying in the face of that, alhaitham does the exact opposite of what kaveh instructs as the other turns back around to the stove, long arms sliding underneath the architect's from behind and circling his waist for his hands to meet clasped at kaveh's stomach. there's only a couple of inches between them, but the scribe uses this angle to simply hold the other against his chest, the blonde as warm and as inviting as ever.
he'd had to look and not touch for so long, he wasn't about to let carbohydrates get in the way of being selfish - and to that end, one of his thumbs strokes lazily over the muscular lines of kaveh's stomach. ]
I don't feel like agreeing to that. [ alhaitham murmurs evenly, his mouth brushing hotly against the other's temple and the blonde hair falling out of the bun there. ] I'd rather buy the whole market out than be banned from touching you for the sake of two pieces of bread. How ridiculous.
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Mm, but it'll only take five minutes to toast bread, [ he points out, the pedantry something of a whine in the back of his throat. ] Buying the market out means putting on clothes, and leaving the house, and walking down there...
[ And Kaveh doesn't want to do any of those things. Kaveh wants to stay here, with Alhaitham tantalizingly close, a temptation he tells himself firmly that he can ignore for five minutes even as he knows that he can't. Realistically, the market option is probably wiser if only because in public they would both be forced to keep their hands at least partially to themselves, which would make it easier to focus on the task at hand.
The task, of course, being breakfast.
It's getting harder by the second to remember that.
Kaveh turns off the heat before letting his eyes close, sinking back fully into the circle of Alhaitham's arms with another sigh— this one notably soft and content. ]
Do we have to eat? Can't we just stay here like this?
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[ - is alhaitham's matter-of-fact response as kaveh leans into his hold. he weighs little to him, solidly built but lithe as anything, all wiry muscle and graceful curves. kaveh's the one who's light on his feet and makes anything he does look like a breeze, just a warm summer wind passing through; whereas alhaitham is the one who is much more grounded, stable as a rock (and about as personable as one, too). ]
I don't need something to soak up all the alcohol I downed without a second thought last night, [ - which sounds a little like he's chastising kaveh because he absolutely is in that way he always does, but this time it's a barb without an edge, murmured into the soft skin of the blonde's neck just below his ear. ] - unlike you, who is lucky to still have a functional liver. Medical scholars are stunned.
[ he mildly regrets suggesting the endeavour in the first place, even though it's absolutely something kaveh requires, if simply because he could've gotten his hands over so much more of the other by now - explored more, analysed more. maybe that's selfish, that his mind is somewhat singularly focused on the vision splayed against his chest right now, but alhaitham is absolutely fine with serving his own self interest every now and then.
still...
mm. he huffs a short sigh into the crook of kaveh's neck, trying not to take note of the enticing scent of exotic cologne on his skin and feeling of his pulse underneath his lips. ]
I suppose I should let you finish - I just don't want to.
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[ And yes, Kaveh makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers as he huffs out the words, voice argumentative and arch despite the contented little smile on his lips, the way he practically melts back into the gust of breath at his neck. ]
I was only drinking in the first place to try to forget about the way I was feeling. Something for which, I might add, you are responsible.
[ There is of course something deeper to unpack there, even if the architect will never admit it even to himself. Kaveh has had a habit of getting drunk when depressed for a long time now, and this latest reason is just one more symptom rather than the root cause.
But a symptom eased is a symptom all but forgotten, and this particular ailment has been alleviated by the muscled arms around his waist and the lips at his neck and the low rumbling voice admitting that Alhaitham doesn't want to let him go. His brain, caught up in the warmth permeating through the moment, is too content to worry back over his debt or his reputation or any of those other issues in his life that exacerbate his bad habits.
And with the stove off again, so too has it given up on worrying about the toast; Kaveh turns once more in Alhaitham's arms and just looks at him in comfortable silence for a few seconds before grazing his lips over the taller man's, a warm little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ]
Then don't.
[ Time and coffee are already working in his favor, and while there's no denying that food would help him further, he can't say he minds putting it off a little in favor of enjoying Alhaitham like this. He's going to feel sick for a while regardless, so what does it matter?
His arms loop around the scribe's neck and lock at its nape as Kaveh presses another kiss to the corner of his lips. ]
Just be here with me like this.
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[ the chores they'd been attending to at the stove now sit cooling and forgotten, which is probably for the best, really - distraction was only one step away from a house fire, and after the door taking a beating the previous night, alhaitham's happy not to have to worry about more damage.
yes, he should probably let kaveh eat, and yes, part of him does want the rapidly cooling (and likely slightly burnt) coffee in the percolator at the back of the stove, but at this juncture? he wasn't willing to trade the man in his arms for it. selfish, selfish, selfish. ]
Fine. [ alhaitham acquiesces, gaze inscrutable as slim arms sling around his neck and kaveh's lips brush against his own again. oh, the blonde was trouble. ] But, in that case -
[ and without much warning, the scribe easily but carefully picks kaveh up from the ground in a bridal style hold, because it always seems to be the first method to come to his mind rather than actually suggesting they go somewhere. glancing down at the other in all seriousness, eyes distantly fond; ]
- we're going back to bed.
[ by that, he means his bed, of course - not one that reminded him of the blonde tousling with other nameless faces, because that was still a hill he needed to climb without claws of fury dragging him back down it. bare feet padding against the polished wood of the house as he carries kaveh through it, alhaitham adds; ]
And don't take this necessarily as a suggestion. [ even though he'd already entertained that rather alluring possibility. ] You're unwell, I'm still tired. Bed's the sensible place to be.
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His face shifts to nuzzle itself into the space under Alhaitham's chin, a brush of lips against his larynx, down over the hollow of his neck, willfully inhaling the mingled scents of clean skin and musky cologne that embrace his senses.
There's no need for verbal clarification; even without asking, without looking up to see where they're going, he knows the layout of the house well enough to realize they're headed to the scribe's bedroom, not his own, and despite the taller man's words— Bed's the sensible place to be— Kaveh can't help the heat that stirs to life in his abdomen at the thought, the knowledge, that he's being taken to Alhaitham's bed.
And so he marks his disapproval of the scribe's words with a nip of his teeth against sensitive skin, just a hint sharper in action than he should be, a scolding without any real desire to hurt. ]
What if I want to take it as a suggestion, hm? You're allowed to clarify your meaning, but you know just as well as I do that I will ascribe my own understanding to the things you say, whether originally intended or not.
[ An academic argument by all counts, even if the reasoning behind it is far less scholastic. Alhaitham isn't the only one of them wanting to be selfish right now. ]
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[ is the scribe's flippant reply, hoping that he sounds as unaffected as he'd like to despite the soft lips against the sensitive skin of his neck and the graze of teeth in protest. what's even worse is when kaveh decides to fully switch on that ridiculous mind of his, flaunting clinical, scholarly words in a sultry context - and yes, it's just another exasperating reminder of why the man in his arms is so worthy in every sense of the word.
nudging the door to his rooms open with the side of his foot, alhaitham lets them both in. the warm midday sun is still filtering lazily through the stained glass windows, throwing light over a bedroom that's so very much his - meticulously clean and looked after in almost every regard except for the stacks of books that pepper the place, left on almost every flat surface that wasn't the floor in varying clusters of relevance. even his bed is freshly made, being part of his routine after he (reluctantly) gets up for the day, but it's one chore he's willing to resign himself to doing again.
it takes little effort to place the blonde down on top of the covers, again, more gently than one would expect from someone with such a surly persona; and he lies down next to him immediately after, sinking into the plush surface with a sigh that could be argued as being content.
he doesn't, however, relinquish all contact though (because why would he do that?). alhaitham is stubborn, bossy, and simply pulls kaveh into him as he lies on his back, arms wrapping around the architect in a way that says 'mine' without using any words.
if he slips his eyes closed, perhaps kaveh won't notice how satisfied he is in this moment. ]
Do you have any further theses you'd like to discuss, or was that it?
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Admittedly, the wordless greediness in the embrace has him wondering a little: how didn't he pick up on this sooner? But those are thoughts for later, not to dwell on now. Now is the time for rolling over within the circle of those arms, shifting himself so that he can look down at those closed eyes, at the sharp cut of that jaw,
the nearly-imperceptible warmth that only years of familiarity allows him to see.
Absent-mindedly, his fingers lift, tracing the hard lines of Alhaitham's lips. ]
Mm, I suppose at some point I'd like to put forth an inquiry into your habit of kicking doors open— [ even though this time it was far gentler and actually made sense given the blonde being carried in his arms ] —but I think for now that's everything.
[ Fingers are followed by his thumb, a slow skate of the digit over Alhaitham's lower lip, tracing the path of an upward lift that Kaveh can see even if isn't really there, and then his hand drops to cup the scribe's jaw as its place at the other's mouth is replaced with a soft but firm press of his own, lips slotting together in a kiss both sweet and insistent.
And Kaveh sighs in content, because he's wanted this for far too long. ]
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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. ]
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[ Kaveh breaks the kiss with the words— something he doesn't actually want to do, if he's honest, but is serving in the moment as a type of punishment— and he pulls back to look down at Alhaitham, hand shifting back to thumb and tug at the scribe's lower lip. The close way the other man holds him, and the low, purposeful dip of the hand at his spine don't help, very much make him want to give in and kiss him until they're both breathless; but at least for now his willpower holds, carmine eyes taking in the other's features as he holds his face just out of reach. ]
This morning, yes. But we both know that last night called for no such thing.
[ Hadn't he only just decided to take mercy on Alhaitham in regards to this exact topic? Yet it's a mercy pushed aside in favor of teasing, his free hand moving to splay wide over the other's chest, the fingers at his mouth giving another little tug at his lower lip. That possessive darkness that had glimmered in the air as clearly as the tell-tale lights of Alhaitham's Vision— yes, it's still very much something Kaveh wants to unwrap. Even if it means teasing him about it. ]
You can call it "taking out the trash" as much as you want, but you should at least admit that you were jealous. [ Something of a playful, teasing light glimmers behind ruby irises as he thumbs at Alhaitham's lip again. ] ...Mm, you could even say I demand it.
[ Translation: no, he's not out of demands. Nor is he ever likely to be, at least when it comes to the man spread out underneath him right now, all silver hair and contented face and muscled body. ]
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