Decent? That's offensive. [ His gentle touch is interrupted briefly by a pinch, fingers catching the skin of the other's muscled pectoral between them and squeezing, a hint of punishment for calling him average. ] You have a genius architect living here, and don't you forget it.
[ The complaint is quickly forgotten in the face of the other's gaze, though, and Kaveh finds himself looking back at Alhaitham with a fond smile on his lips. The hand in his hair drifts to brush at the side of his face, pushing back some stray silver strands and generally just enjoying the sensation of the other's pale skin under his fingers.
This is so much nicer than anything he dreamed about. Not that he could ever have imagined this, lying in bed enjoying laughs and smiles with someone who up until now has served mostly as a point of frustration. Teasing, but knowing it's taken the way it's meant and not read in some horribly wrong way. Knowing that Alhaitham wants him here, that he isn't just some thorn in the other's side.
Warmed, Kaveh laughs again when the scribe complains at his choice of words, and his mouth purses briefly against the finger at his bottom lip, a slight shake of his head as his expression turns only more adoring, a softness in his eyes as they search over the other's face. ]
Idiot. Don't go twisting my words when I'm trying to compliment you. Besides— [ and his eyes sparkle with mirth, a warning perhaps of brattiness to come ] —I'm not the one who called you only decent. Clearly, your offense is the worse of the two!
[ With that said, he reaches to tug Alhaitham's thumb from his mouth, using the hand buried in his hair to pull him closer and into a kiss, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. ]
I'm not calling you a genius. [ alhaitham replies with impudence at both the correction and the pinch, eyes flicking between the blonde's fingers and his gaze. ] It'll go straight to your head.
[ even if kaveh is objectively correct.
true compliments still don't come as easy to alhaitham as they would to a normal person - he simply doesn't see the majority of the purpose in giving or receiving them. if it's not objective fact, then it's simply pandering to an ego, something which was incredibly popular among the ranks of the akademiya's insecure. he'd operated most of his life not requiring the validation of others; not particularly caring about what people might think of him, or the whispers they wove behind his back.
but, strangely? hearing words of praise from kaveh rang differently to those who used them only to get something from him, or his position.
it was an odd feeling. ]
As usual, you choose to interpret meaning in the most abstract way possible. [ alhaitham admonishes, his hand moving slowly across kaveh's skin to cup his cheek instead. a thumb traces his cheekbone as the scribe gazes down at him, as impassive as ever. ] I could, of course, start referring to you only by your popular title, 'the Light of the Kshahrewar' -
[ though before he's allowed to continue what could be the start of a very impressive sarcastic tirade, he's silenced by a pull downwards, his lips meeting kaveh's in a sound kiss. sometimes it's so easy to forget how strong the man underneath him actually is - for all his dancer's grace and light weight, he's almost entirely smooth, lean muscle.
kaveh. so full of contradictions and impossibilities, such a dichotomy of frustration and joy: a puzzle, all for him to figure out, and alhaitham was going to spend his time meticulously doing so.
so when the blonde tugs him down, the scribe stops thinking, thinking and overthinking for once - instead, simply gives in and returns the kiss with a dizzying passion, tongue snaking over teeth and hand threading into golden hair to deepen it. all his pillars of wisdom give way to instinct instead, his free hand snaking down the edge of kaveh's jaw, across his collarbone and coming to rest on the angle of his shoulder in a comforting grip.
when they break apart for a heated moment, his graveled voice murmurs against raw lips; ]
Offensive that the Kshahrewar gets to claim you as their light anyway, [ alhaitham whispers with a hint of annoyance, nose brushing against nose. ] when really, you're mine.
[ If it wasn't for the fact that he was tugging Alhaitham down into a kiss, breaking the other's tirade in two, Kaveh would almost certainly have something smart to say in response to the gibe. Something about how even a title like that (high praise that sometimes makes him uncomfortable) is preferable to being called "decent", or wondering what the scribe has against his name— a name he quite likes to hear on the other's lips.
But he's rewarded in his moderation with a returned kiss that has little restraint, a dizzying press of Alhaitham's lips and tongue into his, and Kaveh lets out a trembling sigh as he answers in kind, and his free hand slides down the scribe's side and around his waist, holding him closer now in two places. By the time Alhaitham pulls back from him, his breath is ragged, gusting in short bursts over the other's as he speaks, and it's all Kaveh can do not to chase him, allowing himself to breathe instead.
And then Alhaitham says something that has his eyebrows raise, curiosity in his eyes. ] Why? [ he asks before the other can finish speaking, and he's about to say more but the scribe is finishing his sentence, and Kaveh can only stare for a moment, caught somewhere between embarrassed, touched, and amused, the myriad of emotions playing themselves out over his face.
Little does he realize that the annoyance creeping into the other's whispered voice is genuine, something that might be evident in the way he chuckles, presses a teasing kiss to those red lips and nips at the lower, ruby eyes sparkling with a playful light. ]
Belonging to my darshan is a very different thing to belonging to you, [ he answers lowly, that same amusement in his voice, fingers soothing an intricate pattern over the other man's hip. ] And in their defense, they made their claim a lot earlier than you did.
[ At least in this, he thinks, Alhaitham will have to share him. But that's not a big deal, is it?
A pause, and then: ]
Also, unlike some people, they're willing to acknowledge my status as a genius.
True validation is internal, you know. [ because he's still not going to say it, as much as kaveh is angling for him to admit it out loud. alhaitham might be mildly besotted, but he was still obtuse. raising an eyebrow; ] I don't know why you need me to reassure you about your intellect.
[ and then he lets the other free of the cage he'd created around him with his body, sinking back into the mattress on his side - but pulling the blonde into his arms as he settles. alhaitham's words might be acerbic, but his touch was strong and gentle as his face presses into that crown of soft, golden hair, a sigh escaping his lips that sounds almost like contentment. ]
I probably still have some sway after my stint as the Grand Sage, [ a measured voice murmurs against kaveh, impossible to tell if he was actually being serious or not. ] Perhaps I could have a word with Kshahrewar - we could even come to some sort of agreement.
[ the midday sun was doing nothing to help fend off the encroaching fatigue, the warmth, comfort and proximity of his partner (if that's what they were calling it) a soporific combination. weekends were designed for self-indulgence, and alhaitham was exactly where he wanted to be.
idly, his fingers stroke down the small of kaveh's back in a soothing, repetitive rhythm. ]
[ When he has time to think about this later on— outside, that is, of the saccharine pink fog of Alhaitham Alhaitham Alhaitham that currently clouds the parts of his mind not already shrouded by the hangover— he'll be amazed at the contented laze they slip into when the scribe slides off him and pulls him back into his embrace.
Never before now has he been able to just lie in bed and not worry about something— about work, about mora. Even with other partners he's found himself restless, trying to initiate something extra or even getting out of bed to cook. Lying around in bed has always been his roommate's thing, not his, and yet—
Really, Kaveh can't imagine he'd rather be anywhere else. Between the soft sigh on Alhaitham's lips and the rhythm of fingers at his back, paired with the idle ridiculousness of the words on his tongue, the architect feels like he could lie here forever.
It's in the spirit of that feeling that he lets the comments about his intellect go— someday he'll have Alhaitham admit it out loud, screw this internal validation thing— and instead just presses his own face into the hollow of the scribe's throat, a soft chuckle on his lips, lazy kisses left sweetly against the skin. ]
If I get to have a say in this— [ he murmurs, a playful lilt in his voice, ] —I would suggest that you each "get" me full time, but in different ways. Experience has shown that you and I shouldn't work together, after all, and quite frankly I'd rather not be like this with any of my colleagues.
[ A tilt of his head and a graze of his lips along the bottom of Alhaitham's chin emphasize his statement. ]
Mm. [ is his quiet, displeased hum into kaveh's hair at the idea of him lying in bed with his kshahrewar colleagues. ] I'd rather that not happen, either.
[ but the calm atmosphere that had fallen over the two of them is enough to assuage the jealousy such a thought could trigger, the scribe's eyes sliding closed as being awake becomes too much of a chore. between the almost-stuffy warmth of the room and kaveh's lyrical voice reverberating against his skin as he peppered gentle touches across it, alhaitham hadn't really a hope of fighting off the nap he'd unceremoniously dragged the blonde in here for. ]
We'll see, light of Kshahrewar.
[ he murmurs against the crown of kaveh's head, the scribe's voice somehow losing some of its insufferable edge now that he was falling asleep. because of that, it's hard to tell if he's using the other's title as a sarcastic response or a genuine compliment considering the knowledge he now had that kaveh actually liked the name.
no further inquiry would be had either, because aside from a kiss so soft on the side of kaveh's temple that one might imagine it had simply not existed, alhaitham's breathing slows to a steady rhythm that suggests he's completely, immovably asleep.
if he stirs, it's only to subconsciously pull the other closer to him. ]
no subject
[ The complaint is quickly forgotten in the face of the other's gaze, though, and Kaveh finds himself looking back at Alhaitham with a fond smile on his lips. The hand in his hair drifts to brush at the side of his face, pushing back some stray silver strands and generally just enjoying the sensation of the other's pale skin under his fingers.
This is so much nicer than anything he dreamed about. Not that he could ever have imagined this, lying in bed enjoying laughs and smiles with someone who up until now has served mostly as a point of frustration. Teasing, but knowing it's taken the way it's meant and not read in some horribly wrong way. Knowing that Alhaitham wants him here, that he isn't just some thorn in the other's side.
Warmed, Kaveh laughs again when the scribe complains at his choice of words, and his mouth purses briefly against the finger at his bottom lip, a slight shake of his head as his expression turns only more adoring, a softness in his eyes as they search over the other's face. ]
Idiot. Don't go twisting my words when I'm trying to compliment you. Besides— [ and his eyes sparkle with mirth, a warning perhaps of brattiness to come ] —I'm not the one who called you only decent. Clearly, your offense is the worse of the two!
[ With that said, he reaches to tug Alhaitham's thumb from his mouth, using the hand buried in his hair to pull him closer and into a kiss, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. ]
no subject
[ even if kaveh is objectively correct.
true compliments still don't come as easy to alhaitham as they would to a normal person - he simply doesn't see the majority of the purpose in giving or receiving them. if it's not objective fact, then it's simply pandering to an ego, something which was incredibly popular among the ranks of the akademiya's insecure. he'd operated most of his life not requiring the validation of others; not particularly caring about what people might think of him, or the whispers they wove behind his back.
but, strangely? hearing words of praise from kaveh rang differently to those who used them only to get something from him, or his position.
it was an odd feeling. ]
As usual, you choose to interpret meaning in the most abstract way possible. [ alhaitham admonishes, his hand moving slowly across kaveh's skin to cup his cheek instead. a thumb traces his cheekbone as the scribe gazes down at him, as impassive as ever. ] I could, of course, start referring to you only by your popular title, 'the Light of the Kshahrewar' -
[ though before he's allowed to continue what could be the start of a very impressive sarcastic tirade, he's silenced by a pull downwards, his lips meeting kaveh's in a sound kiss. sometimes it's so easy to forget how strong the man underneath him actually is - for all his dancer's grace and light weight, he's almost entirely smooth, lean muscle.
kaveh. so full of contradictions and impossibilities, such a dichotomy of frustration and joy: a puzzle, all for him to figure out, and alhaitham was going to spend his time meticulously doing so.
so when the blonde tugs him down, the scribe stops thinking, thinking and overthinking for once - instead, simply gives in and returns the kiss with a dizzying passion, tongue snaking over teeth and hand threading into golden hair to deepen it. all his pillars of wisdom give way to instinct instead, his free hand snaking down the edge of kaveh's jaw, across his collarbone and coming to rest on the angle of his shoulder in a comforting grip.
when they break apart for a heated moment, his graveled voice murmurs against raw lips; ]
Offensive that the Kshahrewar gets to claim you as their light anyway, [ alhaitham whispers with a hint of annoyance, nose brushing against nose. ] when really, you're mine.
no subject
But he's rewarded in his moderation with a returned kiss that has little restraint, a dizzying press of Alhaitham's lips and tongue into his, and Kaveh lets out a trembling sigh as he answers in kind, and his free hand slides down the scribe's side and around his waist, holding him closer now in two places. By the time Alhaitham pulls back from him, his breath is ragged, gusting in short bursts over the other's as he speaks, and it's all Kaveh can do not to chase him, allowing himself to breathe instead.
And then Alhaitham says something that has his eyebrows raise, curiosity in his eyes. ] Why? [ he asks before the other can finish speaking, and he's about to say more but the scribe is finishing his sentence, and Kaveh can only stare for a moment, caught somewhere between embarrassed, touched, and amused, the myriad of emotions playing themselves out over his face.
Little does he realize that the annoyance creeping into the other's whispered voice is genuine, something that might be evident in the way he chuckles, presses a teasing kiss to those red lips and nips at the lower, ruby eyes sparkling with a playful light. ]
Belonging to my darshan is a very different thing to belonging to you, [ he answers lowly, that same amusement in his voice, fingers soothing an intricate pattern over the other man's hip. ] And in their defense, they made their claim a lot earlier than you did.
[ At least in this, he thinks, Alhaitham will have to share him. But that's not a big deal, is it?
A pause, and then: ]
Also, unlike some people, they're willing to acknowledge my status as a genius.
no subject
[ and then he lets the other free of the cage he'd created around him with his body, sinking back into the mattress on his side - but pulling the blonde into his arms as he settles. alhaitham's words might be acerbic, but his touch was strong and gentle as his face presses into that crown of soft, golden hair, a sigh escaping his lips that sounds almost like contentment. ]
I probably still have some sway after my stint as the Grand Sage, [ a measured voice murmurs against kaveh, impossible to tell if he was actually being serious or not. ] Perhaps I could have a word with Kshahrewar - we could even come to some sort of agreement.
[ the midday sun was doing nothing to help fend off the encroaching fatigue, the warmth, comfort and proximity of his partner (if that's what they were calling it) a soporific combination. weekends were designed for self-indulgence, and alhaitham was exactly where he wanted to be.
idly, his fingers stroke down the small of kaveh's back in a soothing, repetitive rhythm. ]
They get you weekdays and I, weekends.
no subject
Never before now has he been able to just lie in bed and not worry about something— about work, about mora. Even with other partners he's found himself restless, trying to initiate something extra or even getting out of bed to cook. Lying around in bed has always been his roommate's thing, not his, and yet—
Really, Kaveh can't imagine he'd rather be anywhere else. Between the soft sigh on Alhaitham's lips and the rhythm of fingers at his back, paired with the idle ridiculousness of the words on his tongue, the architect feels like he could lie here forever.
It's in the spirit of that feeling that he lets the comments about his intellect go— someday he'll have Alhaitham admit it out loud, screw this internal validation thing— and instead just presses his own face into the hollow of the scribe's throat, a soft chuckle on his lips, lazy kisses left sweetly against the skin. ]
If I get to have a say in this— [ he murmurs, a playful lilt in his voice, ] —I would suggest that you each "get" me full time, but in different ways. Experience has shown that you and I shouldn't work together, after all, and quite frankly I'd rather not be like this with any of my colleagues.
[ A tilt of his head and a graze of his lips along the bottom of Alhaitham's chin emphasize his statement. ]
What say you, O Grand Scribe?
no subject
[ but the calm atmosphere that had fallen over the two of them is enough to assuage the jealousy such a thought could trigger, the scribe's eyes sliding closed as being awake becomes too much of a chore. between the almost-stuffy warmth of the room and kaveh's lyrical voice reverberating against his skin as he peppered gentle touches across it, alhaitham hadn't really a hope of fighting off the nap he'd unceremoniously dragged the blonde in here for. ]
We'll see, light of Kshahrewar.
[ he murmurs against the crown of kaveh's head, the scribe's voice somehow losing some of its insufferable edge now that he was falling asleep. because of that, it's hard to tell if he's using the other's title as a sarcastic response or a genuine compliment considering the knowledge he now had that kaveh actually liked the name.
no further inquiry would be had either, because aside from a kiss so soft on the side of kaveh's temple that one might imagine it had simply not existed, alhaitham's breathing slows to a steady rhythm that suggests he's completely, immovably asleep.
if he stirs, it's only to subconsciously pull the other closer to him. ]