[ 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. ]
[ he asks incredulously, turquoise eyes cracking open slightly and staring down long lashes at the crimson eyes just inches away from his own. sometimes - okay, a lot of the time, things come out of kaveh's mouth that throw alhaitham for a loop because of the sheer ridiculousness of the statements. the scribe hadn't been a 'relationship person' (until now, apparently), but envy was generally a rather undesirable trait. so, he looks down at kaveh with that trademark expression of skepticism as his hand continues downwards - over the small of his back, and stopping just at the hem of his underwear. ]
I don't see how that would benefit you or me - nor me stating as such.
[ because the jealousy that kaveh triggers in him is fierce, wild, and it triggers feelings so intense in the scribe that even he would worry about truly losing control - about wielding whatever power was at his disposal as a means to an end to assert to the world in general that the blonde was his and no-one else's.
exhaling in a sigh, alhaitham briefly considers raising his free hand to flick kaveh in the forehead for suggesting such a stupid thing, but the comfort of their current arrangement is getting the better of him. instead, his eyes drift over the beautiful, angular face in front of him in a way that always makes him look as if he's committing it to memory. ]
As for last night, it absolutely called for it. Your door always sticks.
[ alhaitham murmurs, voice low as if challenging kaveh to dare take this further - and then he presses a soft kiss to the pad of the blonde's thumb, still lingering against the corner of his mouth. ]
Grandiose conclusions are certainly your specialty, though.
[ It's true that envy is generally something considered undesirable. However, in this specific circumstance, there's something indescribably attractive the possessiveness that sneaks into Alhaitham's manner, in the way he acts— firm grasp of fingers, searing kisses, flashing somethings behind emerald eyes— and the way he speaks. And perhaps part of it is the scholar in him, the want to understand it, but Kaveh is sure that most of his eagerness to unwrap it comes from his own attraction to the scribe, the want to see that stoic, inscrutable face snap into something revealing and honest.
Like the fury burning in his eyes as the light of his Vision shimmered in the darkness of Kaveh's room. Or the firm lips and scraping teeth leaving marks to replace those the architect so thoughtlessly paraded in front of him. ]
Maybe I do.
[ He would clarify it further, really he would— Alhaitham's comment requires a rebuttal, after all, an explanation— but he's distracted by the hand now resting just over the hem of his underwear, the searching drift of the scribe's eyes over his face, the soft purse of lips against his thumb—
and then by the insistence that last night did call for it, that his door sticks, and Kaveh almost laughs, stopped in the end only by the challenge in Alhaitham's voice, the low tone making a shiver of attraction reverberate down his spine.
And oh, he's not one to back down from a challenge. ]
How strange— [ he murmurs, thumb pressing a little more firmly to the plushness of his lower lip, free hand drawing idle patterns along lines of muscle, ] —that despite it always sticking, the one night you decided to actually go ahead and kick it in was the same night you felt the need to insist that the only person who should be touching me is you...
[ he shouldn't have expected any less - after all, they were (to their detriment) both the type of person who would use spite as a motivator, who would do the exact opposite of what they're told if there was a pot to stir or hackles to raise. alhaitham simply stares down his nose at kaveh, the feathered touch against his lip threatening to begin cracking his resolve - but the scribe had a will of steel, which was a requirement for orbiting the blonde in the first place. ]
It was punctuation to a point. [ he states flatly, hooded turquoise eyes flickering with the beginnings of a dark heat. ] The point being, you flaunting yourself being tangled up in someone else simply to crawl under my skin. Kicking down a door seemed justified.
[ the hand on kaveh's lower back sinks further southwards, looping around the angular jut of his hips and pulling him flush against him in a strong movement, arm flexing. recalling the previous night still stirred up a tempest of feelings too wild for him to entirely control, and there's a flash of something unreadable that crosses his face as his other hand raises to hold kaveh's chin.
their faces are so close there's only a hair's breadth and change between them, giving alhaitham a captive audience. ]
I'd do it again. [ the scribe murmurs, voice low and husky. he repeats; ] I'd do it again because I was emphatically correct - the only person who should be touching you is me.
[ long fingers curl into the muscle of kaveh's backside possessively as his eyes meet the blonde's crimson unflinchingly. ]
[ "Punctuation to a point," Alhaitham says, and Kaveh's halfway to a scoff when that look flickers across the other's face, when he's pulled flush against the other, chin caught and fingers pressing into his backside in a way that makes his breath hitch, and his fingers tremble and stutter over the other's chest for a moment or two as he steels himself toward a recovery.
It's unfair, he thinks, how easily the scribe can catch him off-guard.
But he was the one who brought them here, and he's not about to back down, even though the husky sound of his roommate's voice makes him want to give himself over without a second thought, when the flash behind the emerald of his eyes turns Kaveh's insides to jelly.
There's a small part of him tempted to tease Alhaitham further, to disagree with him simply to rile him up further, but he rejects it— for one because this thing between them is still too new for him to feel comfortable testing it, and also because for once in his life he doesn't know what he would say to counter the other when he is indeed so emphatically correct.
Kaveh doesn't want anyone else.
His smile is slow, a teasing answer to the scribe's possessive grip, and he thumbs at the other's mouth before withdrawing his hand, inching close enough that his lips ghost over Alhaitham's when he finally answers him. His other hand resumes its halted pattern over that broad chest as the architect slides a leg between the other's knees. ]
For once, I think you'll find we're in perfect agreement. [ A pause, crimson eyes searching the darkened expression written over the other's sharp features, and whether he's taking pity on him or oversharing even Kaveh isn't entirely sure, but he continues: ] You know, when you kicked down the door, it was the first time all night I actually felt something.
[ it's wild, how a simple few words can burrow under his skin with such fervor. of course, kaveh's choice of bedfellows or otherwise was his own prerogative, but selfish words slip past alhaitham's lips without him being able to catch them in time - that he should be the one to hold kaveh's attention, that he should be the only one privileged enough to be beholden to the full gamut of emotion the blonde had to offer. just when these desires had manifested themselves in such immovable form was unbeknownst to the scribe, but there's a quiet, calm relief that washes over him when kaveh agrees.
it's an internal war that he's fighting beyond the stoic expression he's wearing, but his grip softens imperceptibly as the blonde affirms him, slinking a leg inbetween his all litheness and grace. unfair, for someone who was nursing a world-ending hangover. ]
Even the planets align once every two hundred years, [ the scribe murmurs flippantly back against kaveh's soft lips, hot breath mingling in a heady way that encourages him to do pretty much anything other than have a catnap. ] I suppose today is simply that day.
[ and then that lyrical voice keeps talking, musing as his fingers danced distraction over alhaitham's bare chest. for someone who prided themselves so wholly on focus and objectivity, it was hard to keep his mind in that detached, neutral state when kaveh was splayed over him like this, spouting things so charming that alhaitham's unsurprised how easily he'd been able to snag whoever he'd wanted to bring home and paper over other problems.
and the touch - even that's enough to cloud his otherwise unaffected expression, because while he's not a true stranger to intimacy, dalliances were far different to being handled by the man on top of him.
he's sure this new blindspot in his emotional armour would cause trouble for him somehow later on, but right now, the scribe is finding it very hard to care as his free hand reaches up and sinks into kaveh's soft blonde hair. for a second he pauses - and then gently tugs the messy bun free, causing golden locks to cascade downwards.
beautiful, like all those paintings the other liked to harp on so much about. ]
Are you sure you weren't just feeling the foundations of the house shake?
[ the scribe replies in that signature matter-of-fact tone as he tucks the locks obscuring those beautiful ruby eyes behind kaveh's ear. ]
[ Selfishness is, one could say, right up there with jealousy as an undesirable quality in a person... and yet Kaveh can't even remotely bring himself to complain about the words on the other man's lips, not when he can almost see— and certainly feel— Alhaitham's relief in response to his reply. He can't help but reward the scribe with a slight press of his lips, a hum and a smile on his own. When he draws back, his eyes are fond, searching the other's face as he listens— and chuckles— to the comparison made between them and the stars, as he tilts his head to chase the other's touches once his hair is freed to fall around his face.
And the truth is, maybe he is pushing things a little too far for someone who's as hungover as he is. But his secret— which isn't really a secret? He's often hungover. That, and it's hard to focus on the woes of feeling ill when he has an incredibly attractive man spread out under him, teasing him with words and mouth and hands alike, a man who he's wanted for longer than he's even sure he can quantify... only that it's a long, long time.
What's said next, though, makes him roll his eyes and shove playfully at that broad, naked chest as he scoffs. ]
Aren't you the one who goes around telling people you're some kind of "feeble scholar"? And now you think you're powerful enough that you made the foundations shake? I know adrenaline boosts strength and all, but that's still a mighty rich claim...
[ This time, when Kaveh closes the space between their mouths, it's more of a bite than a kiss, dragging the other's lower lip in his teeth as he pulls back, a glint behind his crimson pupils. ]
Either you're arrogant enough to think you know what I felt better than me, or you were far angrier by what you saw than you let on.
[ The words are punctuated with a slow, teasing smile, his knee inching closer toward the crux of the space between Alhaitham's thighs, his mouth dipping to run a trail of wet kisses (and the occasional punishing nip of teeth) from the corner of the other's mouth to his jaw. ]
[ hands push playfully against his chest, to which alhaitham simply gives kaveh a bemused look. ]
Honestly, how much force do you think it takes to break a door down? Even you could do it... probably.
[ after all, the less intimately people knew his power, the better - alhaitham had no desire for reknown, or awe, or any of the above - so the 'feeble scholar' bit served him well. at least, until kaveh and their other close acquaintances had decided to start making a show of debating who'd best who in a fight loudly in public settings, emboldened by the resolution of the archon's situation and the akademiya's own dramas.
he's about to start again with some contrary epithet but kaveh closes the scant distance between them with a swift kiss and the quick sting of teeth against his lips, causing his train of thought to be soundly derailed. frustrating.
of course, the blonde is testing him, pushing the boundaries of their bickering now that they could be explored further, and the scribe can't help but let a soft hiss of what could only be described as pleasure escape his mouth as he's caged in. grazing kisses trail over his jawbone and a slim knee presses gently into his groin, kaveh suddenly everywhere - challenging him with that musical voice, which only sounded more lewd for how it was buried against his skin.
it happens in the blink of an eye, really. unlike kaveh, alhaitham only had minor fatigue weighing him down and not a night full of bottom shelf liquor - and if he wanted an answer from him, would it not be rude to deny one?
kaveh's so light to him that it's easy to leverage his core strength and flip their positions, muscle flexing as large hands encircle the architect's shoulders and pin him down into the mattress on his back in a fluid movement. there's still very little distance between them, but now the taller man is hovering above him, thighs on either side of kaveh's hips as if to cage him in himself.
silver hair brackets his face as he gazes back into those crimson eyes with an inscrutable look. it was never a great idea to challenge the scribe of the akademiya, but then again, they were both stubborn until the end. ]
Perhaps I was both. [ he offers, one hand reaching forward to grasp kaveh's chin in a gentle but firm grip. ] On one hand, the Akademiya was very eager to give this house away, so I can only assume there was some catch or another - perhaps skimping on the foundational structure, or using lacklustre materials. If the door came off so easily, I imagine it'd take little more force to shake the rest of the structure, don't you agree?
[ for a moment, it looks as though he's going to soundly kiss the other - but instead, alhaitham's head cocks to the side, his mouth grazing hotly against kaveh's ear instead. so strange to see him without his earrings in - ornate jewellery always suited him so well - but that in itself opened up other... possibilities. ]
On the other hand - yes. I was angry. [ his voice is a low whisper now, lips brushing against the shell of the architect's ear before biting his earlobe gently as if emphasising his point. ] Was that what you wanted to hear? That I'd happily tear the house down if it meant getting you out of the arms of another man?
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sempiternals2023-02-11 10:39 pm
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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?
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[ 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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[ he asks incredulously, turquoise eyes cracking open slightly and staring down long lashes at the crimson eyes just inches away from his own. sometimes - okay, a lot of the time, things come out of kaveh's mouth that throw alhaitham for a loop because of the sheer ridiculousness of the statements. the scribe hadn't been a 'relationship person' (until now, apparently), but envy was generally a rather undesirable trait. so, he looks down at kaveh with that trademark expression of skepticism as his hand continues downwards - over the small of his back, and stopping just at the hem of his underwear. ]
I don't see how that would benefit you or me - nor me stating as such.
[ because the jealousy that kaveh triggers in him is fierce, wild, and it triggers feelings so intense in the scribe that even he would worry about truly losing control - about wielding whatever power was at his disposal as a means to an end to assert to the world in general that the blonde was his and no-one else's.
exhaling in a sigh, alhaitham briefly considers raising his free hand to flick kaveh in the forehead for suggesting such a stupid thing, but the comfort of their current arrangement is getting the better of him. instead, his eyes drift over the beautiful, angular face in front of him in a way that always makes him look as if he's committing it to memory. ]
As for last night, it absolutely called for it. Your door always sticks.
[ alhaitham murmurs, voice low as if challenging kaveh to dare take this further - and then he presses a soft kiss to the pad of the blonde's thumb, still lingering against the corner of his mouth. ]
Grandiose conclusions are certainly your specialty, though.
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Like the fury burning in his eyes as the light of his Vision shimmered in the darkness of Kaveh's room. Or the firm lips and scraping teeth leaving marks to replace those the architect so thoughtlessly paraded in front of him. ]
Maybe I do.
[ He would clarify it further, really he would— Alhaitham's comment requires a rebuttal, after all, an explanation— but he's distracted by the hand now resting just over the hem of his underwear, the searching drift of the scribe's eyes over his face, the soft purse of lips against his thumb—
and then by the insistence that last night did call for it, that his door sticks, and Kaveh almost laughs, stopped in the end only by the challenge in Alhaitham's voice, the low tone making a shiver of attraction reverberate down his spine.
And oh, he's not one to back down from a challenge. ]
How strange— [ he murmurs, thumb pressing a little more firmly to the plushness of his lower lip, free hand drawing idle patterns along lines of muscle, ] —that despite it always sticking, the one night you decided to actually go ahead and kick it in was the same night you felt the need to insist that the only person who should be touching me is you...
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It was punctuation to a point. [ he states flatly, hooded turquoise eyes flickering with the beginnings of a dark heat. ] The point being, you flaunting yourself being tangled up in someone else simply to crawl under my skin. Kicking down a door seemed justified.
[ the hand on kaveh's lower back sinks further southwards, looping around the angular jut of his hips and pulling him flush against him in a strong movement, arm flexing. recalling the previous night still stirred up a tempest of feelings too wild for him to entirely control, and there's a flash of something unreadable that crosses his face as his other hand raises to hold kaveh's chin.
their faces are so close there's only a hair's breadth and change between them, giving alhaitham a captive audience. ]
I'd do it again. [ the scribe murmurs, voice low and husky. he repeats; ] I'd do it again because I was emphatically correct - the only person who should be touching you is me.
[ long fingers curl into the muscle of kaveh's backside possessively as his eyes meet the blonde's crimson unflinchingly. ]
Do you disagree?
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It's unfair, he thinks, how easily the scribe can catch him off-guard.
But he was the one who brought them here, and he's not about to back down, even though the husky sound of his roommate's voice makes him want to give himself over without a second thought, when the flash behind the emerald of his eyes turns Kaveh's insides to jelly.
There's a small part of him tempted to tease Alhaitham further, to disagree with him simply to rile him up further, but he rejects it— for one because this thing between them is still too new for him to feel comfortable testing it, and also because for once in his life he doesn't know what he would say to counter the other when he is indeed so emphatically correct.
Kaveh doesn't want anyone else.
His smile is slow, a teasing answer to the scribe's possessive grip, and he thumbs at the other's mouth before withdrawing his hand, inching close enough that his lips ghost over Alhaitham's when he finally answers him. His other hand resumes its halted pattern over that broad chest as the architect slides a leg between the other's knees. ]
For once, I think you'll find we're in perfect agreement. [ A pause, crimson eyes searching the darkened expression written over the other's sharp features, and whether he's taking pity on him or oversharing even Kaveh isn't entirely sure, but he continues: ] You know, when you kicked down the door, it was the first time all night I actually felt something.
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it's an internal war that he's fighting beyond the stoic expression he's wearing, but his grip softens imperceptibly as the blonde affirms him, slinking a leg inbetween his all litheness and grace. unfair, for someone who was nursing a world-ending hangover. ]
Even the planets align once every two hundred years, [ the scribe murmurs flippantly back against kaveh's soft lips, hot breath mingling in a heady way that encourages him to do pretty much anything other than have a catnap. ] I suppose today is simply that day.
[ and then that lyrical voice keeps talking, musing as his fingers danced distraction over alhaitham's bare chest. for someone who prided themselves so wholly on focus and objectivity, it was hard to keep his mind in that detached, neutral state when kaveh was splayed over him like this, spouting things so charming that alhaitham's unsurprised how easily he'd been able to snag whoever he'd wanted to bring home and paper over other problems.
and the touch - even that's enough to cloud his otherwise unaffected expression, because while he's not a true stranger to intimacy, dalliances were far different to being handled by the man on top of him.
he's sure this new blindspot in his emotional armour would cause trouble for him somehow later on, but right now, the scribe is finding it very hard to care as his free hand reaches up and sinks into kaveh's soft blonde hair. for a second he pauses - and then gently tugs the messy bun free, causing golden locks to cascade downwards.
beautiful, like all those paintings the other liked to harp on so much about. ]
Are you sure you weren't just feeling the foundations of the house shake?
[ the scribe replies in that signature matter-of-fact tone as he tucks the locks obscuring those beautiful ruby eyes behind kaveh's ear. ]
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And the truth is, maybe he is pushing things a little too far for someone who's as hungover as he is. But his secret— which isn't really a secret? He's often hungover. That, and it's hard to focus on the woes of feeling ill when he has an incredibly attractive man spread out under him, teasing him with words and mouth and hands alike, a man who he's wanted for longer than he's even sure he can quantify... only that it's a long, long time.
What's said next, though, makes him roll his eyes and shove playfully at that broad, naked chest as he scoffs. ]
Aren't you the one who goes around telling people you're some kind of "feeble scholar"? And now you think you're powerful enough that you made the foundations shake? I know adrenaline boosts strength and all, but that's still a mighty rich claim...
[ This time, when Kaveh closes the space between their mouths, it's more of a bite than a kiss, dragging the other's lower lip in his teeth as he pulls back, a glint behind his crimson pupils. ]
Either you're arrogant enough to think you know what I felt better than me, or you were far angrier by what you saw than you let on.
[ The words are punctuated with a slow, teasing smile, his knee inching closer toward the crux of the space between Alhaitham's thighs, his mouth dipping to run a trail of wet kisses (and the occasional punishing nip of teeth) from the corner of the other's mouth to his jaw. ]
Which is it, scribe?
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Honestly, how much force do you think it takes to break a door down? Even you could do it... probably.
[ after all, the less intimately people knew his power, the better - alhaitham had no desire for reknown, or awe, or any of the above - so the 'feeble scholar' bit served him well. at least, until kaveh and their other close acquaintances had decided to start making a show of debating who'd best who in a fight loudly in public settings, emboldened by the resolution of the archon's situation and the akademiya's own dramas.
he's about to start again with some contrary epithet but kaveh closes the scant distance between them with a swift kiss and the quick sting of teeth against his lips, causing his train of thought to be soundly derailed. frustrating.
of course, the blonde is testing him, pushing the boundaries of their bickering now that they could be explored further, and the scribe can't help but let a soft hiss of what could only be described as pleasure escape his mouth as he's caged in. grazing kisses trail over his jawbone and a slim knee presses gently into his groin, kaveh suddenly everywhere - challenging him with that musical voice, which only sounded more lewd for how it was buried against his skin.
it happens in the blink of an eye, really. unlike kaveh, alhaitham only had minor fatigue weighing him down and not a night full of bottom shelf liquor - and if he wanted an answer from him, would it not be rude to deny one?
kaveh's so light to him that it's easy to leverage his core strength and flip their positions, muscle flexing as large hands encircle the architect's shoulders and pin him down into the mattress on his back in a fluid movement. there's still very little distance between them, but now the taller man is hovering above him, thighs on either side of kaveh's hips as if to cage him in himself.
silver hair brackets his face as he gazes back into those crimson eyes with an inscrutable look. it was never a great idea to challenge the scribe of the akademiya, but then again, they were both stubborn until the end. ]
Perhaps I was both. [ he offers, one hand reaching forward to grasp kaveh's chin in a gentle but firm grip. ] On one hand, the Akademiya was very eager to give this house away, so I can only assume there was some catch or another - perhaps skimping on the foundational structure, or using lacklustre materials. If the door came off so easily, I imagine it'd take little more force to shake the rest of the structure, don't you agree?
[ for a moment, it looks as though he's going to soundly kiss the other - but instead, alhaitham's head cocks to the side, his mouth grazing hotly against kaveh's ear instead. so strange to see him without his earrings in - ornate jewellery always suited him so well - but that in itself opened up other... possibilities. ]
On the other hand - yes. I was angry. [ his voice is a low whisper now, lips brushing against the shell of the architect's ear before biting his earlobe gently as if emphasising his point. ] Was that what you wanted to hear? That I'd happily tear the house down if it meant getting you out of the arms of another man?
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