[The club is an eclectic fusion of shadows and murmured secrets, atmosphere charged with an electric undercurrent of anticipation, a labyrinth of dark corners and deeper mysteries. Each room a different shade of intrigue. The dress code tonight commands an anonymity that heightens the senses, allowing everyone to indulge in the masquerade of fantasies without restraint. People in leather and lace flit through the dim lighting, their movements fluid and almost theatrical, a dance of veiled identities and whispered invitations.
Alhaitham's attire is understated compared to the extravagant costumes around him—simple black turtleneck and slacks, his hair dyed black and slicked back to disguise its usual fluffy texture. He's a shadow among spectacles. The pulse of electronic music blends with the soft clinks of glass and the occasional laugh, creating a soundscape as rich and varied as the crowd itself. He weaves through the throngs of masked revelers, his senses on high alert.
The club’s dimly lit corridors, accented by occasional flashes of colored lights, guide him deeper into its heart. Shows of restraint and whispered dominance play out subtly around him, drawing curious eyes and knowing smiles, but Alhaitham's focus is singular. He is searching for Pharos.
The proposal to meet had come unexpectedly at the end of one of their more intimate and revealing streams. Pharos, after a moment of hesitant silence, had suggested, almost offhandedly, that perhaps they could meet in person. His voice had held a mix of defiance and vulnerability that had struck Alhaitham more profoundly than he’d anticipated.
At first, Alhaitham had been stunned, the request setting off a tumult of thoughts in his head. The digital distance that had always been their safeguard was suddenly at risk of collapsing. The possibility of physically meeting Pharos—Kaveh—brought with it a flood of potential complications. Not least of which was the risk of Kaveh discovering Alhaitham's dual identity, not just as a colleague he resented, but as the person behind the screen who had come to know some of his most guarded vulnerabilities.
In the quiet of his study, Alhaitham had weighed every possible outcome. The thought of declining the meeting had flickered through his mind, driven by a fear of the unknown and the possible fallout. But the yearning to bridge the gap between their virtual intimacy and a tangible, real-world connection was too potent to ignore. He considered how to maintain his anonymity, how to keep the veil of mystery intact even while standing right in front of Kaveh.
The solution came in the form of a fetish club known for its strict privacy policies and masked dress code—a perfect venue that promised anonymity and discretion. Alhaitham had proposed the venue, carefully framing it as a continuation of their exploration of boundaries and personas. Pharos had agreed, intrigued and perhaps a bit relieved at the conditions that allowed for anonymity.
His excitement builds with each step, mingled with a nervousness that grips his stomach. This is the closest they have ever been to truly meeting, yet the layers of their concealment remain. It's a paradox that excites and terrifies him in equal measure. Every masked face could be Kaveh, every turn a step closer to the reality they have both dreamed and dreaded.
Finally, he arrives at the agreed meeting place, a secluded lounge area draped in velvet and shadow, designed for privacy and intimate conversation. Alhaitham's breath catches as he scans the room.
He spots a figure waiting casually by the bar, a mask obscuring their features, their posture poised, wound up. Even through the disguise, there's something undeniably familiar about the way they hold themselves, the tilt of their head, the exquisite detailing with which they're dressed. Alhaitham feels a surge of eagerness, his heart thumping loud in his ears as he approaches, each step measured and fraught with expectation.
As he draws nearer, the rest of the world seems to fall away, the background noise fading into a hushed blur. It's just him and the man at the bar now, two worlds colliding at last, the culmination of months of virtual connection now poised on the brink of reality. He slips his arm around his waist, tugging him gently close while he steps in. Bold, but he can't help it, even if he tips his head to press it against the side of Kaveh's.] Waited long?
[ Kaveh's not sure he's ever been this nervous in his life. Over the weeks since they've started more regular private streams, his affection and attraction toward user2.718 has only grown. Asking him to meet was a risk that he was terrified of taking, and even when he took it, he was so positive that Euler would turn him down, tell him it was for the best that they keep their real lives separate from the virtual— Instead, he'd not only said yes, but suggested a location for them, a club that Kaveh has heard of in passing, but never dared venture into despite his curiosity. With its strict rules, it allows both of them to keep their anonymity despite the fact they'll finally be meeting in person; and Kaveh found, despite being the one to suggest the meeting, that the idea only made him more receptive, less worried about his identity being splashed around the campus.
Plus, as per Euler himself, they'll have the chance in a place like this to explore further— not just themselves, but each other.
Unlike the other man, Pharos is dressed up like he fits in here, with clothing that reveals more than it hides. Both crop jacket and slim-fitting pants are made of faux black leather. Several chains in the same color hang around his check and across his chest. His hair, without the wig he used to wear on his streams, is down around his shoulders without any real ornamentation. His nails are painted in the same blue as the contact lenses he wears, and his eyes are smudged with kohl and mascara behind the black masquerade-style mask. A number of people have approached him since he arrived, but his answer each and every time has been the same:
He's waiting for someone.
Kaveh's fingers curl around the glass of rum he's holding, lifting it to his lips to sip— just a sip. As nervous as he is right now, he doesn't want to risk getting drunk tonight. He needs to know exactly what's going on, to be able to keep every last memory of it for himself; he needs to keep his head.
Besides, the last thing he wants Euler to think is that he's an alcoholic.
(Even if he is.)
He arrived a little while ago, almost an hour ahead of their agreed-upon schedule. Silly, perhaps, but of the two of them, he's the one that will be recognized, and so it makes sense for Mister E to be able to walk in and see him, rather than having to wait himself for a familiar face to show up. The minutes have been ticking by, but slowly, so slowly, and he thinks he's just about lost track of how long it's been when very suddenly, an arm winds around his waist, and a head presses against the side of his, and then
that voice.
Kaveh's breath catches in his chest, because even over the thumping of the music and the noise of the crowd, somehow Euler sounds just like he imagined—
Archons, please. He bites his lip, closes his eyes, and his own voice is barely a breath louder than everything else around them. ]
[As Alhaitham—no, as Euler tonight—slips his arm around Kaveh's waist, the reaction of his body against his own is electric. The heat of contact, the firm yet anxious tension in Kaveh's spine oozes more than physical warmth; anticipation, vulnerability, and an overwhelming array of emotions that Alhaitham feels mirrored in his own heart, gets his breath to hitch in turn.
Inside, Alhaitham's thoughts are whirling. He is acutely aware of every detail: the subtle tremble he feels through the streamer's body, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the heavier aromas of the club, the bite on his lip as he feels for Euler's presence. Is that hope? It seems like hope. He hopes it's hope. All of this is a culmination of months of interaction hidden behind screens, of shared secrets and unspoken yearnings now suddenly, starkly real.
Alhaitham's own nervousness is palpable, a thrumming undercurrent that matches the beat of the club's music. He had spent countless hours imagining this moment, turning over every possibility in his mind, from rejection to the kind of acceptance he's feeling now. Yet, nothing could have truly prepared him for the reality of Kaveh in his arms again, even if embodying someone else.
He senses Kaveh's tension, not just in the stiffness of his posture but in the careful modulation of his breath. Alhaitham's heart aches with the understanding that Kaveh, too, is fighting a battle within himself. The risk of opening up, of allowing someone to breach the carefully maintained walls around one's heart, is daunting. And yet, here they are, both cloaked in anonymity yet more exposed to each other than ever before.
The sound of his name—Euler, not Alhaitham—whispered with a mixture of awe and uncertainty, stirs a profound response within him. He tightens his embrace fractionally, a silent reassurance, an unspoken promise not to let go too soon. It's a delicate balance, maintaining this closeness without revealing too much, without letting the familiar timbre of Alhaitham's voice slip through Euler's mask. Without seeming daunting.]
Pharos, [he confirms softly, his voice low and measured to mask any recognizable traces.] Hi, baby.
[The club around them fades into a backdrop, the pulsing lights and shadowy figures mere specters against the vivid reality of their encounter. For Alhaitham, the world narrows down to the man in his arms, to the challenge of keeping his true identity shrouded while baring his soul through every touch, every breath shared in the closeness of their connection.]
[ The sound of his screenname in that low voice is all he needs to know he was right, but then Euler calls him "baby" again, and Kaveh's pretty sure his heart skips a beat or two in his chest—
(a statistical anomaly to be sure, but not an impossibility)
—as he closes his eyes momentarily, grounding himself against the sudden undercurrent trying to pull him in. He's wanted this for so long now, hoped for it since perhaps even before their first private chat, and the more that they've spoken, the more that that want has grown. He's here, and he's fallen so hard for him, and now he gets his chance, and—
Despite his racing thoughts, the embrace and the confirmation of who holds him helps to calm him somewhat; his tense, nervous posture relaxes, allowing him to sink into the other's hold. Settled like so, he then turns around, twisting in the circle of that arm until he can look into the other man's face, covered by a mask just as his is, his beautiful emerald eyes alive with the same intelligence he's always heard in the other's voice. An inch or two taller. Slicked black hair. That slightly smiling mouth that Kaveh has dreamed of kissing time and time again.
Gods, he's so handsome. It's no wonder at all that there are some people around the lounge looking at them— looking at Euler, he thinks, both out of place here and yet so naturally a part of it. ]
Hi. [ It's whispered back, and he lifts a hand to smooth over Euler's cheek, wonderment on his own face at the very idea that he's touching him for real. ] It's really good to see you.
[ And then without any further words, Kaveh hooks his arms up around Euler's shoulders, standing a little taller so that he may press their mouths together in a soft, mostly-chaste kiss. ]
[A heart can't technically skip a beat or two. Still, Alhaitham does forget how to breathe when Pharos melts into him. Amid the club's pulsating lights and the distant thrum of bass, the distant gasps and whimpers from rooms further away, Alhaitham finds a new universe in the circle of his arms around Pharos—Kaveh. The reality of Kaveh's body against his own, the warmth of his breath, the tentative touch of his hands—it all converges into a moment so profound that it strips away the old and adds new layers of fear and uncertainty that have shrouded Alhaitham's heart.
He's held him before, like this, though Kaveh had been angry, desperate. What if it triggers something again. What if his arms are comforting, but too familiar?
As Kaveh's fingers trace a path along his cheek, Alhaitham is acutely aware of every point of contact, each one igniting a spark that threatens to set him ablaze. The mask and the dyed hair suddenly seem futile, superficial barriers that could never truly disguise the essence of his being from someone who has come to know him so deeply, even if just digitally. There's some intimacy even in hatred, even in lust. The fear of being recognized lingers, which he tries to silence with the press of their bodies, with the closeness that leaves no room for anything but the here and now.
Kaveh's whisper, a simple greeting laden with emotion, tethers Alhaitham back from his spiraling thoughts. He is here, in the flesh, as real and as tangible as the dream that has haunted Alhaitham for months. And he looks genuinely happy and relieved. The tentative kiss, soft yet undeniable in its intent, silences Alhaitham's worries. Alhaitham responds instinctively, his lips moving against Kaveh's with a gentle urgency, a silent communication of all the words he cannot speak. Suckling at an upper lip, nipping at a lower lip. Small, ravenous little kisses that he can't help pressing, while holding Pharos—Kaveh—tight.
His kisses grow hungrier, more insistent as if he could communicate every nuanced emotion through the press of lips alone. The slight nip, the soft suckle—each is a word, a sentence, a paragraph that he can't really say.
Alhaitham's arms tighten around Kaveh, drawing him closer until there is no space left between them. The world around them—the club, the other patrons, the very night itself—fades insignificantly. There is only Kaveh, with his curious, searching gaze and the softness of his lips, and the overwhelming sensation of rightness that floods Alhaitham's senses.
When they finally part, breathless and with his heart racing, Alhaitham manages to find his voice, though it comes out rough and laden with emotion, heavy with the taste of alcohol and Kaveh.]
[ The sound he makes against Euler's lips when they kiss is one that he can't help: soft, whimpering, sweet. It's a sound the other has heard him make over his headphones many times before, but this time it's pressed directly into his mouth, a reward for the way the other responds so naturally, replying to Kaveh's initial tentative peck with more urgency. His fingers curl into the taller man's hair, all but clinging to him, his breath stutters and sharpens, his body arches closer.
Archons help him, he could get addicted to this.
Distantly, there's something familiar about the kiss, something that comforts Kaveh at the same time as it awakens his senses. It's not close enough to the surface for him to recognize it for what it is— or more importantly who— but it's there, and it's easy for him to file it away as his imagination having done a wonderful job. There's the taste of nicotine and ash, something he's never enjoyed before but right now seems erotic and almost delicious to his tongue. There's those arms, drawing him in close and holding him tight, a silent promise that he's not letting go anytime soon.
By the time the kiss breaks, Kaveh is breathless, his lips red and kiss-swollen, his blood pulsing heavily in his veins and stirring his cock to life— something that, even in the dim light of the club, is probably all too visible with these slim pants he's wearing... and definitely noticeable when he sways in closer to press his lips to Euler's ear, making sure he can hear when he talks. ]
Should we go find somewhere to sit down? It'd be nice to talk and just.. be with each other.
[ Talk, he says, and he means it— but that doesn't quite stop him from closing his lips around the lobe of Euler's ear and tasting the skin before he pulls back again, looking up at him with all his admiration and desire on display on his face. ]
[Soft, earnest. Alhaitham may as well melt underneath the curl of Kaveh's fingers, the heat of his mouth, becoming liquid heat that only he could become when holding this man in his arms before. He's breathing deep when they part, and he's about to mindlessly dive into those lips again once Pharos moves sideways and presses his mouth to his ear again. And it's only after a second or two that he realizes that he has said something, and then he—
—takes his earlobe into his mouth and Alhaitham almost falls apart.
Wide hands hold onto Kaveh's hips, squeeze them tight and press them against his own. Alhaitham—Euler—only does it back—tit for tat—and releases a groan into Pharos' ear, letting it reverberate through his chest, letting his teeth rake over the delicate shell.
He pulls back, flushed, his eyes dark beyond the mask. And he grabs the streamer's hand and pulls him with him and a nod.] Alright, come with me.
[He finds them a cornered booth, clean and unused somehow, in a dark corner away from the bar and the other rooms, but the speakers large and close enough to keep them both visibly hidden, their voices muted away from everyone else. Alhaitham sits down, and pulls Kaveh in, scooting further enough to give him all the room he needs and wants. If he wants to sit apart, he can. He doesn't want to push it.]
[ A few things happen in quick succession before Euler pulls back to lead them to a quieter space. First, their hips clash together in a way that has Kaveh bite his lip and close his eyes— gods, he's sure he can feel that other is growing hard just as he is— and then lips find his earlobe in revenge and a low groan sounds into his ear, making a visceral shudder pass down his spine.
Fuck. As much as the anonymity in this bar is a nice thing, Kaveh can't help but wonder if they've made a mistake, agreeing to meet in public like this..
Obedient, he follows Euler to the corner, letting himself be pulled in, and he notes and appreciates the space the other offers him, the way he sits but scoots— but Kaveh doesn't want that space, doesn't need it, especially when he's growing quickly harder, unable to think of much else but giving himself up to the other, giving him that which he hasn't allowed himself to give to anyone else.
(Despite, apparently, trying once before— but he shoves that thought away; he doesn't want to be thinking of Alhaitham when he's finally here with his Mister E.)
So instead of sitting next to him, Kaveh takes a chance, sits himself right in Euler's lap, stopping short of straddling him and instead sitting primly with his ass pressed against that hardening cock. Curious eyes meet the other man's from behind the mask, and a cheeky, playful smile finds his lips. ]
[Euler looks upwards, as though asking for Celestia and the archons above to spare him from such a torture. Still, Pharos sits on his lap, right against his growing erection, and he bites his lower lip to stop himself from groaning again.
While he hadn't been expecting it, he'll never refuse him so close. An arm mindlessly steadies him by wrapping around his shoulder. And to make it worse, Kaveh knows what he's doing with that coy smile of his, the way he still straightens his back like a good student in class.
Alhaitham leans in to nuzzle his ear. Whisper.] Good boy.
[His fingers stroke along the curve of his shoulder, down his arm, and Alhaitham shifts to open up to him, for Kaveh to lean against him, snuggle close if he wishes to.] Is this okay?
[ Another visceral shudder runs down his spine when Euler breathes those words of praise in his ear. There's no denying how much he likes being praised in such a way, and no doubt it's obvious to the other man as well. He sighs and settles in closer— and he can't quite help the way he wriggles just a little as he gets comfortable, teasing the other man with the swell of his ass against his cock— smiling as Euler's fingers smooth along his arm. ]
It's more than okay.
[ His voice is a soft murmur as he reaches up, brushes fingers through that slicked black hair. ]
You can do anything you want to with me, Euler. I trust you, and.. and I want you, anyway. I've wanted you for a long while now.
[ His forehead rests against the other's cheek as he bites his lower lip. Is he being too forward? ]
[As the weight shifts and presses into delicious friction, he can't help the shift of his own hips upwards, a slight grind before he adjusts underneath the streamer, though admiring the way he curls up cutely against him, smiling, receptive to the touch.
And then he goes and says something like that.
Alhaitham should have ordered a drink.]
A bit dangerous, no? [To who? He's starting to think that he's the one in danger here. The architect knows who he is and this is a long, clever, highly complex way of conning him into revenge.
And yet, he sees Kaveh biting his lip. The fingers drawing little shapes on Pharos' arm move to fold underneath his chin, tip him upwards to face him, a thumb gently brushing along his jaw.] I want you to truly trust me. I can only do that by earning it.
[ Kaveh can't help the soft hiss of pleasure he makes when Euler's hips shift upward, grind against him ever so slightly. It's evidence of how quickly he's hardening, just like Kaveh himself, and it makes the blonde wish that he had the bravery to just throw caution to the wind and hand himself over into his arms right now.
Perhaps he should have had a little more to drink after all, conquer the nerves that are finding themselves alight so easily in his veins.
He shakes his head, peers up at Euler with his soft eyes, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he admires him so openly, enjoying the sensation of the other's thumb skimming along his jaw. ]
I know it's stupid of me, but I already trust you more than anyone I know anyway. What does "true trust" look like to you, Euler?
[He did an excellent job of hiding himself, blue eyes peering at him instead of vermillion, though he knows the shape of those lips, the darkness of his eyelashes isn't just because of the kohl or the mascara he wears. Alhaitham shakes his head, looking him over, admiring him, his other hand coming in, splaying wide, to stroke from knee to thigh, and then low to the knee again, squeezing it gently then up again to squeeze his hip, the tapering of his waist, lingering there because there's skin there, instead of leather. He's so solid and warm and alive and Alhaitham has Kaveh's name teasing under his tongue, willing to break free.
But he does not. So he strokes Pharos' smile with a feather-light fingertip.] We take it one step at a time. I get to know what you like, what you don't like. [He kisses his temple, the bridge of his nose.] There's so much we can do and so little time, I want you to enjoy it.
[ His head tilts. There's so much they can do and so little time... and so Euler... wants to take that time learning? His lips part in silent surprise, and for a moment he nearly questions it, but... no, it makes sense. The other man has always come across like an academic of some sort— it's a big part of what attracts Kaveh to him in the first place— but then there's also that kind, caring side of him that shines through with those words too, the side of him that from the beginning has been looking out for Pharos's best interests and not just his own as a customer.
And it makes him wonder— ]
Does this mean you wanna see me again? After tonight?
[ It's a scary question to ask. He feels vulnerable, afraid of hearing an answer he doesn't want— and yet at the same time, he needs to know, needs to understand exactly what Euler is seeking from him here. This is already so different from what he thought it was going to be...
[The weight of Kaveh's question is like a physical force, a weight with the shape of the streamer on his lap, laden with potential and peril. He senses the vulnerability in Kaveh's voice, the tentative hope mingled with fear of rejection. It's a poignant echo of his own emotions, the shared uncertainty of what lies beyond tonight's encounter, the things that they're both hiding.
The pulsing music and shadowed figures feel simultaneously distant and oppressively close as Alhaitham considers his response. He wants more than just tonight, more than these stolen moments shrouded in anonymity, beyond the divide of a screen. Yet, the risks of pushing too far, too fast, loom large in his mind. The balance between his desires and the practical implications of their complex relationship is delicate. Kaveh would hate him if he knew who he's asking this to, so fearful of being rejected, when he knows that it would be Alhaitham to face that rejection if they were being their true, truer selves.
He looks into Kaveh's eyes, seeing the same intelligence and intensity that drew him to Pharos in the digital world, the sharpness of observation, the earnestness to do everything right. For others, never for himself.]
Only if you enjoy yourself tonight, and if you want to. [Alhaitham says, his voice steady despite the tumult inside him.] That's what trust is to me. To know someone and know that they'll do the right thing for you.
[Alhaitham's admission is as much an assurance for Kaveh as it is a reaffirmation of his own feelings. He reaches out, his hand gentle on Kaveh's hair, stroking the locks, grounding, a physical manifestation of his emotional presence, of his care.] I'd like to be here for you, in whatever way you need me to be. And we don't have to figure everything out now.
[ Once again, Euler answers all of Kaveh's worries with such honesty and calm that the blonde wonders why he was even having them in the first place. Of course, he doesn't know of the delicate balance between them that so worries the other, but he's taken aback by the other's kindness and generosity of understanding when as a streamer he's usually afforded neither. Euler has always given that to him, but it's even more evident now that they're sitting face to face, and the other man is assuring him that the shots are his to call— when he's ready to call them.
Kaveh leans in, catching Euler's mouth with his own, a kiss surprisingly insistent for how brief it is. He tastes the wisps of smoke on the other's mouth, a reminder that he needs to tell him off for it, sinking into him with a soft sigh and a brush of his fingers against his cheek. ]
Why don't we start with a drink? [ the words are murmured against the other's mouth, another smile broadening his lips. ] We can have a drink and talk and.. figure out our next step from there.
[ Not that he needs to figure it out, he thinks. It's taking every little bit of strength he has not to just launch himself at the other man and beg for something more between them. He can still feel Euler's cock pressing up against his ass, too... which doesn't help. But if they can have a drink first, then.. that's a good first step, right? ]
[Alhaitham's heart races as he leans in to kiss Kaveh again, responding to the warmth and insistence in Kaveh’s own kiss. This simple contact sets off a quiet storm within him. The touch of Kaveh’s lips is grounding, and yet it sends a rush of warmth through his body, a reminder of the depth of his feelings. This time, his kiss is slow, reverent, affectionate. Any more of that and he'd be making the both of them drowsy, languid.
As he pulls back, there's a brief moment where Alhaitham needs to catch his breath—Kaveh has, without trying, left him feeling both exhilarated and a touch disoriented. The sensations swirling through him are potent and distracting. He manages a smile, genuine still, his eyes lingering on Kaveh’s face, taking in every detail, every trace of emotion that crosses his expression.]
I’ll get us those drinks, [then he says, his voice a little thicker than usual. The need for a brief respite—a deep breath to collect himself and cool the flush of heat Kaveh’s kiss has spread through him, the erection that is struggling against his trousers. He turns to head to the bar, feeling a mix of anticipation and a rare, slight nervousness that he attributes entirely to the effect Kaveh has on him. He turns back again, leaning in to drop a small kiss on the streamer's forehead.] Wait for me. I'll be right back.
[At the bar, Alhaitham orders their drinks, his gaze occasionally drifting back to where Kaveh waits. Watching the bartender mix the drinks, he's momentarily grateful for the task's distraction, allowing him a moment to regain his usual composure. He thanks the bartender, takes their drinks, and walks back to Kaveh with a steadier step.
Handing Kaveh his drink, their fingers touch briefly, reigniting a spark of that warmth. So much for that R&R.] Here you go, [Alhaitham says, the corners of his mouth lifting in a more relaxed smile now. As he settles back into the seat:] I asked what you had ordered—rum, right?
[ He's not expecting his suggestion to be met with a slow kiss— but he's not complaining, either. Kaveh sighs in content into Euler's mouth, responding to the kiss with all the breathless passion he can muster. His heart feels like it's in his throat, it's pounding so hard. When they part, it's with a soft whimper on his part, an urge to dive back into him even though he shouldn't just yet.
After all, they're learning, right?
He nods mutely when the other man says that he'll get them their drinks, for a moment feeling as if he wants to protest— the other spends so much on him already— but knowing it will fall on deaf ears, he for now says nothing. Instead he watches the other walk away, admiring the broadness of his back and the smoothness of the way he slides through the crowd. He seems to move effortlessly, and Kaveh wonders—
Ngh. He shifts on the seat, all too aware of his erection and how needy he feels right now. He could probably will it away if he thought enough unsexy thoughts, but... but with Euler so near to him, that's really the last thing he wants to be doing, so..
The other comes back before he can really dwell on it for too long anyway, and Kaveh accepts the rum with a surprised smile, a nod. ]
That was clever of you. To ask them.
[ He didn't even think about the fact that he hadn't told him— Archons, he's a wreck tonight.
He swirls the drink, watching the ice cubes clink against the glass for a moment, his teeth pressing into his lower lip before he looks back up at Euler again. There are so many things he wants to say, but... ]
Alhaitham carefully sets his own drink down, noting the slight shift in Kaveh’s demeanor as the topic of smoking comes up. He curses inwardly, recognizing the slip for what it is—a commonality with his own person as Alhaitham, something he hadn’t intended to reveal under the guise of Euler. The casual observation, innocuous as it might seem, sends a ripple of concern through him about how much of his true self is seeping through the character he’s crafted.
Yes, I do, [he responds, keeping his tone neutral, an attempt to mask the sudden spike in his anxiety.]
Is that a problem? [His question is genuine, a soft invitation for Kaveh to express any discomfort, which Alhaitham is prepared to address. He watches Kaveh’s expression closely, gauging his reaction, ready to navigate this delicate moment.
Each detail feels magnified, each shared piece of information a potential clue to his true identity. Alhaitham is constantly balancing on the fine line between revealing enough to maintain the authenticity of their growing connection and concealing enough to protect both their professional boundaries and his personal secret.
As Kaveh swirls his drink, Alhaitham takes the moment to steady his nerves, reminding himself to be more cautious and better separate Euler's traits from those of Alhaitham. Despite this internal reminder, he can’t help but feel a certain relief in sharing aspects of himself, even if under the guise of another.]
[ Maybe it will come as a surprise, but Kaveh doesn't immediately liken the habit to Alhaitham's. There are a lot of people in this world who smoke, after all; Alhaitham is one of them, and it seems Euler is too. And where his reaction to his coworker was irritation and annoyance, in the case of the man next to him right now... Well, surely he's smart enough to know what he's doing, right?
(Of course, the same is also true of the other smoker in his life, but... so what if he plays favorites a little?)
It also helps that whatever cigarette brand it is that he smokes, the aftertaste isn't horrendous in his mouth. It's ashy and smoky and kind of sexy. So after a moment, Kaveh shakes his head, offers him a new smile. ]
No, it's not a problem. I know how clever you are. You probably thought through all the risks and everything already...
[ Besides, it's not as if he doesn't have his own vices. His love for alcohol borders on problematic, and...
He shakes the thought off and sips at his rum before he reaches across with his free hand, linking his fingers with Euler's. ]
[Alhaitham feels a subtle wave of relief wash over him as Kaveh dismisses the concern about smoking with a lightness that speaks to a deeper understanding, or perhaps a selective acceptance, Alhaitham muses with an internal chuckle. The tension that had briefly knotted in his chest loosens with Kaveh's smile and the unexpected compliment that it tasted "kinda sexy" on him.
The touch of their linked fingers feels like a small victory, a tangible connection that grounds him back to the moment, to the reality of Kaveh's acceptance and presence. Alhaitham allows himself a moment to enjoy the simple pleasure of that contact, the warmth of Kaveh's hand in his, reassuring in its solidity.]
You give me too much credit, [Alhaitham replies with a soft smile, his voice low and tinged with amusement.] But I appreciate your faith in my judgment.
[Fingers curling underneath Pharos' fingers, he brings them up to his lips. Kisses the back of them, then his wrist, then his palm. He then guides Kaveh's hand to cup his own cheek, leaning into it. All as though he's doing some sort of business, as though it's the most natural thing in the world to be this affectionate.] You make it taste better.
[ It is definitely, despite Kaveh's best efforts, selective acceptance. When it comes down to it, so much of what Alhaitham does is offensive to him simply because he's Alhaitham, because he's a frighteningly attractive man who approached him on first meeting from the standpoint that no one else knows better than he, and worse, because he researched and figured Kaveh out right from the start in a way that makes him feel seen uncomfortable.
(And then apparently gained a crush on him, enough that he didn't protest when Kaveh threw himself into his arms, drunk and needy and wanting—)
He's so unlike Euler, Kaveh's Mister E, who sees Kaveh through kind, unjudgmental eyes, treats him like a human where others see a whore, who hears his problems and responds with advice rather than simply telling him everything he's doing wrong. Euler, who listens between his words rather than simply to them, finds the deeper meaning and supports him with patience and kindness.
Euler, who is in front of him right now with smiling emerald eyes and sweet words, lips that press soft kisses to his skin as he lifts Kaveh's hand to cup his own cheek. You make it taste better, he says, and Kaveh bites his lip because his heart is doing something funny again— ]
You—
[ It's remarkably forward, even for a streamer, and especially for how shy and awkward Kaveh can be in person without the bolster of alcohol, but he moves to sit atop him again, this time facing him and with his legs straddled either side of his hips, a pleasant flush of heat on his face as closes the distance between their mouths once more. ]
[The lights of the club flicker, but they're eclipsed by the surprise that flits through Alhaitham. In a decisive movement, he's straddled, cradled and pulled, and Alhaitham can do nothing but the instinctive wrap of his arms around the Streamer on his lap, grind into the assertive press of his body and exhale through his nose something blissful. This is temptation, bold and claiming and there's nothing but to arrest himself into it, rake his teeth over his lips until they tingle from the hurt.
The heat from Kaveh’s body melds into Alhaitham’s, his proximity intoxicating, addictive more than any nicotine. His breath burns into Alhaitham's mouth hotter than any smoke. One of Alhaitham’s hands rises, cradling Kaveh’s face gently, an instinctive response to the overwhelming desire to maintain contact, to reassure and be reassured that this isn't just a fleeting fantasy. Alhaitham’s pulse quickens, thudding heavily in his ears, each beat syncing with the throb of the club’s bass, the groan he releases mimicking the moans muffled from other rooms.
Thrilling and daunting in equal measure, Kaveh feels like a wild thing, and he sinks his fingers into his hair and pulls him away. Gently, just enough to arch his neck into the shape of his mouth, to narrow the world down to the space they occupy. The free hand on Kaveh's waist squeezes the round of his behind, rolling their bodies together into friction.]
You think of us like this? [He breathes, raking his teeth under the skin under his jaw.] Tell me what you'd like.
[ Each sound Euler makes is answered in kind by Kaveh. His hips willingly roll and press, and he hisses at the hand that squeezes at his ass, so quickly overwhelmed by the sensation of that mirrored against the gentle hand cupping his face. That other's exhale, the groan he makes before he starts to breathe those words against his jaw, they're enough to remind him that the other wants this just as much as he does, aches for it with the same need that Kaveh holds, and suddenly it feels like it's just the two of them alone in this space, no one else around them to ruin the mood they're starting to build.
To Euler's question, he nods. Honestly, "think" might be an understatement— ]
All the time.
[ It's embarrassingly true, but Kaveh says it without too much shame— he's trying something new tonight after all, trying for honesty where anxiety usually wins over. He wants to impress, after all, wants Euler to see him, want him in all the same ways he wants the other, wants to captivate his attention and hold it all for himself.
And so in answer to the next— question? command?— Kaveh sways his hips a little lower still, grinding them firmly into Euler's crotch. He groans; his head tips forward, lips pressing against the other's ear once more so he can whisper into it. ]
Some of the things we've done— I wanna do them for real. Let me finally show you how good I am with my mouth, Euler. And— and then you can fuck me, if you want.
[It's a mutter, one that still does not leave much room to argue against as Euler plucks the streamer from his lap and turns him around, only to pull him back onto his lap again.
Except this time, he wraps an arm around Pharos' waist, a wide hand stroking from his naked navel up to his chest, underneath all of those chains. By doing so, he pulls him close, so he leans back against him, so Alhaitham can peer over his shoulder, kiss Kaveh should he want to.
And the other hand busies itself by prying his legs apart, kneading a knee, then up and inwards along Kaveh's inseam. He digs his fingers into the firm muscle like a sculptor wanting to assess the give of clay, and he rolls his hips again to grind his erected cock into his ass.
Those trousers look good, but they don't give much leeway in the shape of touching Kaveh the way he wanted to. Still, he'll take whatever he can.]
Do you remember this stream? [He pinches a nipple as he nuzzles the delicate shell of his ear.] Do I feel the same like this?
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sempiternals2023-10-04 01:27 am
I had a dream I got everything I wanted But when I wake up, I see You with me
Alhaitham's attire is understated compared to the extravagant costumes around him—simple black turtleneck and slacks, his hair dyed black and slicked back to disguise its usual fluffy texture. He's a shadow among spectacles. The pulse of electronic music blends with the soft clinks of glass and the occasional laugh, creating a soundscape as rich and varied as the crowd itself. He weaves through the throngs of masked revelers, his senses on high alert.
The club’s dimly lit corridors, accented by occasional flashes of colored lights, guide him deeper into its heart. Shows of restraint and whispered dominance play out subtly around him, drawing curious eyes and knowing smiles, but Alhaitham's focus is singular. He is searching for Pharos.
The proposal to meet had come unexpectedly at the end of one of their more intimate and revealing streams. Pharos, after a moment of hesitant silence, had suggested, almost offhandedly, that perhaps they could meet in person. His voice had held a mix of defiance and vulnerability that had struck Alhaitham more profoundly than he’d anticipated.
At first, Alhaitham had been stunned, the request setting off a tumult of thoughts in his head. The digital distance that had always been their safeguard was suddenly at risk of collapsing. The possibility of physically meeting Pharos—Kaveh—brought with it a flood of potential complications. Not least of which was the risk of Kaveh discovering Alhaitham's dual identity, not just as a colleague he resented, but as the person behind the screen who had come to know some of his most guarded vulnerabilities.
In the quiet of his study, Alhaitham had weighed every possible outcome. The thought of declining the meeting had flickered through his mind, driven by a fear of the unknown and the possible fallout. But the yearning to bridge the gap between their virtual intimacy and a tangible, real-world connection was too potent to ignore. He considered how to maintain his anonymity, how to keep the veil of mystery intact even while standing right in front of Kaveh.
The solution came in the form of a fetish club known for its strict privacy policies and masked dress code—a perfect venue that promised anonymity and discretion. Alhaitham had proposed the venue, carefully framing it as a continuation of their exploration of boundaries and personas. Pharos had agreed, intrigued and perhaps a bit relieved at the conditions that allowed for anonymity.
His excitement builds with each step, mingled with a nervousness that grips his stomach. This is the closest they have ever been to truly meeting, yet the layers of their concealment remain. It's a paradox that excites and terrifies him in equal measure. Every masked face could be Kaveh, every turn a step closer to the reality they have both dreamed and dreaded.
Finally, he arrives at the agreed meeting place, a secluded lounge area draped in velvet and shadow, designed for privacy and intimate conversation. Alhaitham's breath catches as he scans the room.
He spots a figure waiting casually by the bar, a mask obscuring their features, their posture poised, wound up. Even through the disguise, there's something undeniably familiar about the way they hold themselves, the tilt of their head, the exquisite detailing with which they're dressed. Alhaitham feels a surge of eagerness, his heart thumping loud in his ears as he approaches, each step measured and fraught with expectation.
As he draws nearer, the rest of the world seems to fall away, the background noise fading into a hushed blur. It's just him and the man at the bar now, two worlds colliding at last, the culmination of months of virtual connection now poised on the brink of reality. He slips his arm around his waist, tugging him gently close while he steps in. Bold, but he can't help it, even if he tips his head to press it against the side of Kaveh's.] Waited long?
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Plus, as per Euler himself, they'll have the chance in a place like this to explore further— not just themselves, but each other.
Unlike the other man, Pharos is dressed up like he fits in here, with clothing that reveals more than it hides. Both crop jacket and slim-fitting pants are made of faux black leather. Several chains in the same color hang around his check and across his chest. His hair, without the wig he used to wear on his streams, is down around his shoulders without any real ornamentation. His nails are painted in the same blue as the contact lenses he wears, and his eyes are smudged with kohl and mascara behind the black masquerade-style mask. A number of people have approached him since he arrived, but his answer each and every time has been the same:
He's waiting for someone.
Kaveh's fingers curl around the glass of rum he's holding, lifting it to his lips to sip— just a sip. As nervous as he is right now, he doesn't want to risk getting drunk tonight. He needs to know exactly what's going on, to be able to keep every last memory of it for himself; he needs to keep his head.
Besides, the last thing he wants Euler to think is that he's an alcoholic.
(Even if he is.)
He arrived a little while ago, almost an hour ahead of their agreed-upon schedule. Silly, perhaps, but of the two of them, he's the one that will be recognized, and so it makes sense for Mister E to be able to walk in and see him, rather than having to wait himself for a familiar face to show up. The minutes have been ticking by, but slowly, so slowly, and he thinks he's just about lost track of how long it's been when very suddenly, an arm winds around his waist, and a head presses against the side of his, and then
that voice.
Kaveh's breath catches in his chest, because even over the thumping of the music and the noise of the crowd, somehow Euler sounds just like he imagined—
Archons, please. He bites his lip, closes his eyes, and his own voice is barely a breath louder than everything else around them. ]
Euler?
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Inside, Alhaitham's thoughts are whirling. He is acutely aware of every detail: the subtle tremble he feels through the streamer's body, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the heavier aromas of the club, the bite on his lip as he feels for Euler's presence. Is that hope? It seems like hope. He hopes it's hope. All of this is a culmination of months of interaction hidden behind screens, of shared secrets and unspoken yearnings now suddenly, starkly real.
Alhaitham's own nervousness is palpable, a thrumming undercurrent that matches the beat of the club's music. He had spent countless hours imagining this moment, turning over every possibility in his mind, from rejection to the kind of acceptance he's feeling now. Yet, nothing could have truly prepared him for the reality of Kaveh in his arms again, even if embodying someone else.
He senses Kaveh's tension, not just in the stiffness of his posture but in the careful modulation of his breath. Alhaitham's heart aches with the understanding that Kaveh, too, is fighting a battle within himself. The risk of opening up, of allowing someone to breach the carefully maintained walls around one's heart, is daunting. And yet, here they are, both cloaked in anonymity yet more exposed to each other than ever before.
The sound of his name—Euler, not Alhaitham—whispered with a mixture of awe and uncertainty, stirs a profound response within him. He tightens his embrace fractionally, a silent reassurance, an unspoken promise not to let go too soon. It's a delicate balance, maintaining this closeness without revealing too much, without letting the familiar timbre of Alhaitham's voice slip through Euler's mask. Without seeming daunting.]
Pharos, [he confirms softly, his voice low and measured to mask any recognizable traces.] Hi, baby.
[The club around them fades into a backdrop, the pulsing lights and shadowy figures mere specters against the vivid reality of their encounter. For Alhaitham, the world narrows down to the man in his arms, to the challenge of keeping his true identity shrouded while baring his soul through every touch, every breath shared in the closeness of their connection.]
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(a statistical anomaly to be sure, but not an impossibility)
—as he closes his eyes momentarily, grounding himself against the sudden undercurrent trying to pull him in. He's wanted this for so long now, hoped for it since perhaps even before their first private chat, and the more that they've spoken, the more that that want has grown. He's here, and he's fallen so hard for him, and now he gets his chance, and—
Despite his racing thoughts, the embrace and the confirmation of who holds him helps to calm him somewhat; his tense, nervous posture relaxes, allowing him to sink into the other's hold. Settled like so, he then turns around, twisting in the circle of that arm until he can look into the other man's face, covered by a mask just as his is, his beautiful emerald eyes alive with the same intelligence he's always heard in the other's voice. An inch or two taller. Slicked black hair. That slightly smiling mouth that Kaveh has dreamed of kissing time and time again.
Gods, he's so handsome. It's no wonder at all that there are some people around the lounge looking at them— looking at Euler, he thinks, both out of place here and yet so naturally a part of it. ]
Hi. [ It's whispered back, and he lifts a hand to smooth over Euler's cheek, wonderment on his own face at the very idea that he's touching him for real. ] It's really good to see you.
[ And then without any further words, Kaveh hooks his arms up around Euler's shoulders, standing a little taller so that he may press their mouths together in a soft, mostly-chaste kiss. ]
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He's held him before, like this, though Kaveh had been angry, desperate. What if it triggers something again. What if his arms are comforting, but too familiar?
As Kaveh's fingers trace a path along his cheek, Alhaitham is acutely aware of every point of contact, each one igniting a spark that threatens to set him ablaze. The mask and the dyed hair suddenly seem futile, superficial barriers that could never truly disguise the essence of his being from someone who has come to know him so deeply, even if just digitally. There's some intimacy even in hatred, even in lust. The fear of being recognized lingers, which he tries to silence with the press of their bodies, with the closeness that leaves no room for anything but the here and now.
Kaveh's whisper, a simple greeting laden with emotion, tethers Alhaitham back from his spiraling thoughts. He is here, in the flesh, as real and as tangible as the dream that has haunted Alhaitham for months. And he looks genuinely happy and relieved. The tentative kiss, soft yet undeniable in its intent, silences Alhaitham's worries. Alhaitham responds instinctively, his lips moving against Kaveh's with a gentle urgency, a silent communication of all the words he cannot speak. Suckling at an upper lip, nipping at a lower lip. Small, ravenous little kisses that he can't help pressing, while holding Pharos—Kaveh—tight.
His kisses grow hungrier, more insistent as if he could communicate every nuanced emotion through the press of lips alone. The slight nip, the soft suckle—each is a word, a sentence, a paragraph that he can't really say.
Alhaitham's arms tighten around Kaveh, drawing him closer until there is no space left between them. The world around them—the club, the other patrons, the very night itself—fades insignificantly. There is only Kaveh, with his curious, searching gaze and the softness of his lips, and the overwhelming sensation of rightness that floods Alhaitham's senses.
When they finally part, breathless and with his heart racing, Alhaitham manages to find his voice, though it comes out rough and laden with emotion, heavy with the taste of alcohol and Kaveh.]
It's good to see you, too.
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Archons help him, he could get addicted to this.
Distantly, there's something familiar about the kiss, something that comforts Kaveh at the same time as it awakens his senses. It's not close enough to the surface for him to recognize it for what it is— or more importantly who— but it's there, and it's easy for him to file it away as his imagination having done a wonderful job. There's the taste of nicotine and ash, something he's never enjoyed before but right now seems erotic and almost delicious to his tongue. There's those arms, drawing him in close and holding him tight, a silent promise that he's not letting go anytime soon.
By the time the kiss breaks, Kaveh is breathless, his lips red and kiss-swollen, his blood pulsing heavily in his veins and stirring his cock to life— something that, even in the dim light of the club, is probably all too visible with these slim pants he's wearing... and definitely noticeable when he sways in closer to press his lips to Euler's ear, making sure he can hear when he talks. ]
Should we go find somewhere to sit down? It'd be nice to talk and just.. be with each other.
[ Talk, he says, and he means it— but that doesn't quite stop him from closing his lips around the lobe of Euler's ear and tasting the skin before he pulls back again, looking up at him with all his admiration and desire on display on his face. ]
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—takes his earlobe into his mouth and Alhaitham almost falls apart.
Wide hands hold onto Kaveh's hips, squeeze them tight and press them against his own. Alhaitham—Euler—only does it back—tit for tat—and releases a groan into Pharos' ear, letting it reverberate through his chest, letting his teeth rake over the delicate shell.
He pulls back, flushed, his eyes dark beyond the mask. And he grabs the streamer's hand and pulls him with him and a nod.] Alright, come with me.
[He finds them a cornered booth, clean and unused somehow, in a dark corner away from the bar and the other rooms, but the speakers large and close enough to keep them both visibly hidden, their voices muted away from everyone else. Alhaitham sits down, and pulls Kaveh in, scooting further enough to give him all the room he needs and wants. If he wants to sit apart, he can. He doesn't want to push it.]
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Fuck. As much as the anonymity in this bar is a nice thing, Kaveh can't help but wonder if they've made a mistake, agreeing to meet in public like this..
Obedient, he follows Euler to the corner, letting himself be pulled in, and he notes and appreciates the space the other offers him, the way he sits but scoots— but Kaveh doesn't want that space, doesn't need it, especially when he's growing quickly harder, unable to think of much else but giving himself up to the other, giving him that which he hasn't allowed himself to give to anyone else.
(Despite, apparently, trying once before— but he shoves that thought away; he doesn't want to be thinking of Alhaitham when he's finally here with his Mister E.)
So instead of sitting next to him, Kaveh takes a chance, sits himself right in Euler's lap, stopping short of straddling him and instead sitting primly with his ass pressed against that hardening cock. Curious eyes meet the other man's from behind the mask, and a cheeky, playful smile finds his lips. ]
Is this okay?
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While he hadn't been expecting it, he'll never refuse him so close. An arm mindlessly steadies him by wrapping around his shoulder. And to make it worse, Kaveh knows what he's doing with that coy smile of his, the way he still straightens his back like a good student in class.
Alhaitham leans in to nuzzle his ear. Whisper.] Good boy.
[His fingers stroke along the curve of his shoulder, down his arm, and Alhaitham shifts to open up to him, for Kaveh to lean against him, snuggle close if he wishes to.] Is this okay?
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It's more than okay.
[ His voice is a soft murmur as he reaches up, brushes fingers through that slicked black hair. ]
You can do anything you want to with me, Euler. I trust you, and.. and I want you, anyway. I've wanted you for a long while now.
[ His forehead rests against the other's cheek as he bites his lower lip. Is he being too forward? ]
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And then he goes and says something like that.
Alhaitham should have ordered a drink.]
A bit dangerous, no? [To who? He's starting to think that he's the one in danger here. The architect knows who he is and this is a long, clever, highly complex way of conning him into revenge.
And yet, he sees Kaveh biting his lip. The fingers drawing little shapes on Pharos' arm move to fold underneath his chin, tip him upwards to face him, a thumb gently brushing along his jaw.] I want you to truly trust me. I can only do that by earning it.
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Perhaps he should have had a little more to drink after all, conquer the nerves that are finding themselves alight so easily in his veins.
He shakes his head, peers up at Euler with his soft eyes, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he admires him so openly, enjoying the sensation of the other's thumb skimming along his jaw. ]
I know it's stupid of me, but I already trust you more than anyone I know anyway. What does "true trust" look like to you, Euler?
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But he does not. So he strokes Pharos' smile with a feather-light fingertip.] We take it one step at a time. I get to know what you like, what you don't like. [He kisses his temple, the bridge of his nose.] There's so much we can do and so little time, I want you to enjoy it.
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And it makes him wonder— ]
Does this mean you wanna see me again? After tonight?
[ It's a scary question to ask. He feels vulnerable, afraid of hearing an answer he doesn't want— and yet at the same time, he needs to know, needs to understand exactly what Euler is seeking from him here. This is already so different from what he thought it was going to be...
and he's pretty sure that's a good thing. ]
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The pulsing music and shadowed figures feel simultaneously distant and oppressively close as Alhaitham considers his response. He wants more than just tonight, more than these stolen moments shrouded in anonymity, beyond the divide of a screen. Yet, the risks of pushing too far, too fast, loom large in his mind. The balance between his desires and the practical implications of their complex relationship is delicate. Kaveh would hate him if he knew who he's asking this to, so fearful of being rejected, when he knows that it would be Alhaitham to face that rejection if they were being their true, truer selves.
He looks into Kaveh's eyes, seeing the same intelligence and intensity that drew him to Pharos in the digital world, the sharpness of observation, the earnestness to do everything right. For others, never for himself.]
Only if you enjoy yourself tonight, and if you want to. [Alhaitham says, his voice steady despite the tumult inside him.] That's what trust is to me. To know someone and know that they'll do the right thing for you.
[Alhaitham's admission is as much an assurance for Kaveh as it is a reaffirmation of his own feelings. He reaches out, his hand gentle on Kaveh's hair, stroking the locks, grounding, a physical manifestation of his emotional presence, of his care.] I'd like to be here for you, in whatever way you need me to be. And we don't have to figure everything out now.
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Kaveh leans in, catching Euler's mouth with his own, a kiss surprisingly insistent for how brief it is. He tastes the wisps of smoke on the other's mouth, a reminder that he needs to tell him off for it, sinking into him with a soft sigh and a brush of his fingers against his cheek. ]
Why don't we start with a drink? [ the words are murmured against the other's mouth, another smile broadening his lips. ] We can have a drink and talk and.. figure out our next step from there.
[ Not that he needs to figure it out, he thinks. It's taking every little bit of strength he has not to just launch himself at the other man and beg for something more between them. He can still feel Euler's cock pressing up against his ass, too... which doesn't help. But if they can have a drink first, then.. that's a good first step, right? ]
Does that sound good?
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As he pulls back, there's a brief moment where Alhaitham needs to catch his breath—Kaveh has, without trying, left him feeling both exhilarated and a touch disoriented. The sensations swirling through him are potent and distracting. He manages a smile, genuine still, his eyes lingering on Kaveh’s face, taking in every detail, every trace of emotion that crosses his expression.]
I’ll get us those drinks, [then he says, his voice a little thicker than usual. The need for a brief respite—a deep breath to collect himself and cool the flush of heat Kaveh’s kiss has spread through him, the erection that is struggling against his trousers. He turns to head to the bar, feeling a mix of anticipation and a rare, slight nervousness that he attributes entirely to the effect Kaveh has on him. He turns back again, leaning in to drop a small kiss on the streamer's forehead.] Wait for me. I'll be right back.
[At the bar, Alhaitham orders their drinks, his gaze occasionally drifting back to where Kaveh waits. Watching the bartender mix the drinks, he's momentarily grateful for the task's distraction, allowing him a moment to regain his usual composure. He thanks the bartender, takes their drinks, and walks back to Kaveh with a steadier step.
Handing Kaveh his drink, their fingers touch briefly, reigniting a spark of that warmth. So much for that R&R.] Here you go, [Alhaitham says, the corners of his mouth lifting in a more relaxed smile now. As he settles back into the seat:] I asked what you had ordered—rum, right?
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After all, they're learning, right?
He nods mutely when the other man says that he'll get them their drinks, for a moment feeling as if he wants to protest— the other spends so much on him already— but knowing it will fall on deaf ears, he for now says nothing. Instead he watches the other walk away, admiring the broadness of his back and the smoothness of the way he slides through the crowd. He seems to move effortlessly, and Kaveh wonders—
Ngh. He shifts on the seat, all too aware of his erection and how needy he feels right now. He could probably will it away if he thought enough unsexy thoughts, but... but with Euler so near to him, that's really the last thing he wants to be doing, so..
The other comes back before he can really dwell on it for too long anyway, and Kaveh accepts the rum with a surprised smile, a nod. ]
That was clever of you. To ask them.
[ He didn't even think about the fact that he hadn't told him— Archons, he's a wreck tonight.
He swirls the drink, watching the ice cubes clink against the glass for a moment, his teeth pressing into his lower lip before he looks back up at Euler again. There are so many things he wants to say, but... ]
So.. You smoke, right? I wouldn't have guessed.
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Yes, I do, [he responds, keeping his tone neutral, an attempt to mask the sudden spike in his anxiety.]
Is that a problem? [His question is genuine, a soft invitation for Kaveh to express any discomfort, which Alhaitham is prepared to address. He watches Kaveh’s expression closely, gauging his reaction, ready to navigate this delicate moment.
Each detail feels magnified, each shared piece of information a potential clue to his true identity. Alhaitham is constantly balancing on the fine line between revealing enough to maintain the authenticity of their growing connection and concealing enough to protect both their professional boundaries and his personal secret.
As Kaveh swirls his drink, Alhaitham takes the moment to steady his nerves, reminding himself to be more cautious and better separate Euler's traits from those of Alhaitham. Despite this internal reminder, he can’t help but feel a certain relief in sharing aspects of himself, even if under the guise of another.]
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(Of course, the same is also true of the other smoker in his life, but... so what if he plays favorites a little?)
It also helps that whatever cigarette brand it is that he smokes, the aftertaste isn't horrendous in his mouth. It's ashy and smoky and kind of sexy. So after a moment, Kaveh shakes his head, offers him a new smile. ]
No, it's not a problem. I know how clever you are. You probably thought through all the risks and everything already...
[ Besides, it's not as if he doesn't have his own vices. His love for alcohol borders on problematic, and...
He shakes the thought off and sips at his rum before he reaches across with his free hand, linking his fingers with Euler's. ]
Anyway, it tasted kinda sexy on your mouth.
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The touch of their linked fingers feels like a small victory, a tangible connection that grounds him back to the moment, to the reality of Kaveh's acceptance and presence. Alhaitham allows himself a moment to enjoy the simple pleasure of that contact, the warmth of Kaveh's hand in his, reassuring in its solidity.]
You give me too much credit, [Alhaitham replies with a soft smile, his voice low and tinged with amusement.] But I appreciate your faith in my judgment.
[Fingers curling underneath Pharos' fingers, he brings them up to his lips. Kisses the back of them, then his wrist, then his palm. He then guides Kaveh's hand to cup his own cheek, leaning into it. All as though he's doing some sort of business, as though it's the most natural thing in the world to be this affectionate.] You make it taste better.
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frighteningly attractiveman who approached him on first meeting from the standpoint that no one else knows better than he, and worse, because he researched and figured Kaveh out right from the start in a way that makes him feelseenuncomfortable.(And then apparently gained a crush on him, enough that he didn't protest when Kaveh threw himself into his arms, drunk and needy and wanting—)He's so unlike Euler, Kaveh's Mister E, who sees Kaveh through kind, unjudgmental eyes, treats him like a human where others see a whore, who hears his problems and responds with advice rather than simply telling him everything he's doing wrong. Euler, who listens between his words rather than simply to them, finds the deeper meaning and supports him with patience and kindness.
Euler, who is in front of him right now with smiling emerald eyes and sweet words, lips that press soft kisses to his skin as he lifts Kaveh's hand to cup his own cheek. You make it taste better, he says, and Kaveh bites his lip because his heart is doing something funny again— ]
You—
[ It's remarkably forward, even for a streamer, and especially for how shy and awkward Kaveh can be in person without the bolster of alcohol, but he moves to sit atop him again, this time facing him and with his legs straddled either side of his hips, a pleasant flush of heat on his face as closes the distance between their mouths once more. ]
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The heat from Kaveh’s body melds into Alhaitham’s, his proximity intoxicating, addictive more than any nicotine. His breath burns into Alhaitham's mouth hotter than any smoke. One of Alhaitham’s hands rises, cradling Kaveh’s face gently, an instinctive response to the overwhelming desire to maintain contact, to reassure and be reassured that this isn't just a fleeting fantasy. Alhaitham’s pulse quickens, thudding heavily in his ears, each beat syncing with the throb of the club’s bass, the groan he releases mimicking the moans muffled from other rooms.
Thrilling and daunting in equal measure, Kaveh feels like a wild thing, and he sinks his fingers into his hair and pulls him away. Gently, just enough to arch his neck into the shape of his mouth, to narrow the world down to the space they occupy. The free hand on Kaveh's waist squeezes the round of his behind, rolling their bodies together into friction.]
You think of us like this? [He breathes, raking his teeth under the skin under his jaw.] Tell me what you'd like.
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To Euler's question, he nods. Honestly, "think" might be an understatement— ]
All the time.
[ It's embarrassingly true, but Kaveh says it without too much shame— he's trying something new tonight after all, trying for honesty where anxiety usually wins over. He wants to impress, after all, wants Euler to see him, want him in all the same ways he wants the other, wants to captivate his attention and hold it all for himself.
And so in answer to the next— question? command?— Kaveh sways his hips a little lower still, grinding them firmly into Euler's crotch. He groans; his head tips forward, lips pressing against the other's ear once more so he can whisper into it. ]
Some of the things we've done— I wanna do them for real. Let me finally show you how good I am with my mouth, Euler. And— and then you can fuck me, if you want.
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[It's a mutter, one that still does not leave much room to argue against as Euler plucks the streamer from his lap and turns him around, only to pull him back onto his lap again.
Except this time, he wraps an arm around Pharos' waist, a wide hand stroking from his naked navel up to his chest, underneath all of those chains. By doing so, he pulls him close, so he leans back against him, so Alhaitham can peer over his shoulder, kiss Kaveh should he want to.
And the other hand busies itself by prying his legs apart, kneading a knee, then up and inwards along Kaveh's inseam. He digs his fingers into the firm muscle like a sculptor wanting to assess the give of clay, and he rolls his hips again to grind his erected cock into his ass.
Those trousers look good, but they don't give much leeway in the shape of touching Kaveh the way he wanted to. Still, he'll take whatever he can.]
Do you remember this stream? [He pinches a nipple as he nuzzles the delicate shell of his ear.] Do I feel the same like this?
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