[ For funsies, let's say that Alhaitham's had two flutes of champagne at Kaveh's behest. (Apparently beer isn't fancy enough for Christmas parties, even if Alhaitham can list off hundreds of reasons why the brewing and fermenting process is just as intricate as the wine-making process.)
If Kaveh's behavior wasn't enough of a hint that the two of them are dating, Alhaitham makes it obvious in his own ways. He lets Kaveh have his arm without half as much of a fight as usual, searches for his hand the moment they brush shoulders, tips forward just enough to deepen every kiss, and looks at Kaveh with abject and unabashed fondness, as if he were the only thing in existence. He's still Alhaitham, argumentative and judgmental, but now that the two of them are dating, he drops all pretenses of hiding his affections.
He's sobered up more by the time they arrive home, one hand around Kaveh's waist as he hoists them through the doorway. He notices the green glow of Kaveh's Vision as he slips off his last boot, crouched at eye level with Kaveh's hip. He furrows his brow before looking up at Kaveh's smirking face—and seeing a little sprig of something hanging above the doorway, just at the top of his field of view.
A mild and slow smile spreads over his lips. Alhaitham sets his shoes aside and stands up tall, reaching for Kaveh's tiny, slutty waist with both hands. ]
You actually managed to take one. [ He pulls Kaveh forward, nearly against him. His smile grows. ] I wonder what your students would think if they knew the Light of Kshahrewar was also a thief.
[Unlike earlier, Kaveh goes willingly this time, wrapping his arms around Alhaitham's neck and hooking his fingers together at the nape of his neck. He's got that air of smug pride about him that he only has when he's done something clever; Kaveh may be kind and far too humble in some respects, but he rarely hides it when he's pleased with his own work, regardless of the scale of it.]
Unlike your laid-back Haravatats, my students would be far too immersed in investigating the mechanics of whatever I brought them to waste time pondering their instructor's personal life. [Kaveh does not know that half the people who attend his lectures do it for his looks, which is probably for the best.] The effect seems to have worn off, anyway. I tested it before I brought it, just to be sure. It's just a decorative plant now.
[But he likes the illusion anyway; the idea of Alhaitham having no choice but to indulge him, the idea of himself being pushed into acknowledging his own desires, of having no way to back out of what he wants. At times, the thought of a wall at his back is suffocating, humiliating--but right now, when it's just them and he feels loose-limbed and mischievous, it feels like a comfortable support.
Granted, things are different in private. It's taken time, but just as Kaveh slowly warmed up to being Alhaitham's housemate, so too has he relaxed into the role of his lover. It helps, perhaps, that none of his feelings are truly new--his longing and desire were never eradicated, just locked away. And while at first, he'd felt shy and awkward, uncertain of how to behave after they'd bared their hearts to each other, he now takes solace in slipping away from the eyes of others, relinquishing his ironclad facade, and burying himself in Alhaitham's seemingly never-ending affection.
It isn't a straightforward progression, of course. There are still days when the doubt and guilt are too much to bear, nights when he's haunted by memories and he can't stand his own presence, let alone anyone else's. But this is not one of those. Tonight, he follows the trajectory Alhaitham sets for him and presses against him as he steals another kiss, indulgent and spoiled all at once.]
[ Words immediately gather in Alhaitham's mouth, as they do whenever Kaveh's involved. Kaveh preens and lauds his own meticulous appearance, yet he's also blithely unaware the full effect it has on those around him. Alhaitham knows fully well that students don't flock into Kaveh's lecture halls just to learn about pulleys and gimbals and principles of Deshretian designs. (Not all of his audience is from Kshahrewar either.) And why would it matter if the mistletoe's effects were still in place? The two of them would inevitably end up where they are now regardless: wound in each other's arms, tilting their heads, kissing deeply and languidly, over and over.
The tipping point is when Kaveh meets the lines of their bodies, insistent enough for Alhaitham's heart to spill open. He's endlessly patient with Kaveh's endlessly warring thoughts, how his heartfelt longing battles against his deep and inescapable guilt. He's been awake with Kaveh through sleepless nights full of visions and nightmares. It's why he looks for indications of Kaveh's comfort and desire before letting the years of (seemingly) unrequited affection pour out of him.
This is different. Inhibitions also loosened from the alcohol, Alhaitham crowds Kaveh against the wall behind him as they kiss. He squares their hips and winds his arms around Kaveh's body, pulling their chests crushingly close. His tongue curls deeply into Kaveh's mouth, seeking out the taste of champagne and fruit and shortbread and sugar.
Alhaitham's hand is merely cool when it slides up the line of Kaveh's back. His fingertips tuck beneath the opening at the back of his shirt and press over his shoulderblade. Alhaitham's pranks aside, Kaveh's back has always been unbearably perfect. Each time the tails of his red cape flared, Alhaitham could see the bed of muscle flex beneath cream-white skin, full and refined from so many years of working in his craft.
Kaveh is so beautiful, like a bird, Alhaitham's tipsy thoughts remind him. He murmurs between kisses: ]
You were teasing.
[ In it is an unsung accusation that whether he realizes it, Kaveh provokes him by nature—by simply existing within his field of view when he can't fully express his need. ]
[Freed from the confines of propriety, it's easy for Kaveh, now, to respond in kind. Alhaitham pulls him close, but Kaveh goes willingly, parting his lips to welcome him in and meeting Alhaitham's tongue with his own. He's torn between wanting to touch and wanting to keep his hands in Alhaitham's hair, so he settles for molding himself to the hard lines of Alhaitham's body, making pleased little sounds to show his contentment because he's incapable of being quiet. When Alhaitham speaks, it's his turn to smile into their kisses, and he nips at Alhaitham's lip gently in response.]
That's a bold accusation. [But even his tone, now, is teasing, even as a light shiver runs up his spine at the rich warmth in Alhaitham's voice, at the press of his fingertips against bare skin. They're pressed close enough together that he can lean back into the touch without putting too much space between them, and that's precisely what he does, an unspoken demand to be touched more. There's no real risk of falling with the wall behind them, but he trusts Alhaitham to support him anyway.] What's your evidence?
[ With his free hand, Alhaitham blindly removes his earpieces and tucks them into his belt pouch. His lip pleasantly stings as he trails slow kisses down to Kaveh's jaw as Kaveh speaks. He smiles. ]
I'll present my argument then. [ Since arguing is what they're best at. ] You led me by my hand and stayed within my sight while you mingled with the crowd. You kissed me many times in front of others, yet you also ended each kiss abruptly.
[ This is an Alhaitham problem. Kaveh probably (?) kissed him for a normal amount of time, but not long enough for a tipsy Alhaitham to be satisfied with.
He leans back, eyes darting to take in every minuscule detail of Kaveh's eyes and lips. He plucks the feather from Kaveh's hair and lets it drop onto the bench beside the door. ]
... You were glowing by the end of the night. [ He cards his fingers into his hair. ] You're aware of how I feel about you, but there was no way for me to act on those feelings while we were still at the party.
[As Alhaitham removes his earpieces, Kaveh mouths along his jaw, granting himself only the barest taste of Alhaitham's skin. He leans his head back obligingly once Alhaitham changes course, though, trailing his fingertips lightly along the curve of his ear once it's exposed.]
And who exactly defines the appropriate length of a kiss? I could argue that they lasted too long, and given that we were in public, I would have the stronger standing. [His eyes follow Alhaitham's movements, and he knows it would be wise to protest, to point out that he's the one who's inevitably going to have to pick up their things--but he can't bring himself to care. In fact, he cares about the exact opposite problem, and he sets about solving it by seeking out the fastenings of Alhaitham's jacket, fingers as deft and precise as always. He can't even be all that fussed about the hairpins Alhaitham's probably knocking askew; he simply turns his face towards Alhaitham's hand, seeking to press a kiss to his palm. There's the slightest tinge of embarrassment at Alhaitham's compliments, but that, too, is overshadowed by his own want.
Kaveh is a terribly selfish man, at his core. But if the stars have aligned to grant him this, to ensure his desire aligns so perfectly with Alhaitham's, then he isn't going to complain.]
I have no control over your perceptions. And how do you know it wasn't the drink? [There's a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, though, and he's clearly trying not to smile too much.] Or maybe it's your eyesight. All that time staring at books indoors, of course you would start seeing auras. Maybe we should get them checked.
[ A small shiver runs down the side of his neck. Of course Kaveh goes for his ear. He knows it's sensitive.
He lets his coat fall from his shoulder and spool to the floor, ornaments jingling, in a half-circle around their feet. Alhaitham takes this as further permission to indulge, as though he wasn't already intent on easing Kaveh out of his clothes if he would allow it. For a moment, those glinting red eyes and pull of his lips hold him captive. He can't remember how long he's wanted Kaveh to look at him this way—daring, confident, and full of affection. Desire swells beneath Alhaitham's ribs.
He turns his head and closes a kiss over Kaveh's smiling mouth, breathing in. At the same time, he (reluctantly) brings both hands to blindly unclasp the brooch over Kaveh's collarbone. ]
You've been this way since we were scholars in the Akademiya.
[ The brooch and cape slide to the floor. The sash around Kaveh's waist is next. All the while, Alhaitham presses open-mouthed kisses down the line of Kaveh's exposed neck, tasting salt and sweetness. ]
In instances where you feel the utmost comfort or confidence, it's impossible to look away from you.
[ He's being completely honest, but does he also want to fluster Kaveh? A little. (A lot.) ]
[That little shiver sends a sympathetic thrill through Kaveh, too. Knowing he has this kind of effect on Alhaitham, even though he's one of the few people who doggedly insists upon Alhaitham's humanity, feels almost as good as Alhaitham's hands on him. He tips his head back with a soft sigh, obliging, all too willing to put any lingering cares aside and sink into sensation.
Predictably, Alhaitham's words have the desired effect; with the tables turned, Kaveh's teasing smile drops off into a reflexive scowl, and he grumbles even as he buries his hands back in Alhaitham's hair.]
Alright, alright, enough flattery out of you. [Now he wants to stop talking... okay Kaveh...] Are we going to stand here all night, or are you going to take me to bed?
[The audacity of him to say this when he started it]
Obviously unintimidated, Alhaitham brings Kaveh's hand to his cheek and kisses his palm. ]
I'm listening. You asked if we were going to stay here or if I was going to take you to the bedroom.
[ Alhaitham tilts his head and slowly kisses down the side of Kaveh's neck. If Alhaitham pushes Kaveh's buttons too hard, Kaveh might actually step on his foot again and walk away. Apparently this is a risk he's willing to take. ]
If you want me to do something for you, you know how to ask for it appropriately, Senior Kaveh.
Oh, now you call me "senior." [The audacity to call him that and not even pretend to be a well-behaved junior while he's at it... TCH. If Kaveh knew what was good for him, he would stomp on Alhaitham's foot and leave. But apparently he doesn't, because he finds himself leaning his head to the side, resisting the urge to shut his eyes and let Alhaitham do as he pleases. He drops his hands from Alhaitham's hair, sliding his fingers across his shoulders and down his arm to ease one of Alhaitham's long gloves down.
Perhaps this positive reinforcement is the problem? ...No, it's definitely just Alhaitham.]
And you don't think it's a bold choice to be pedantic when I could walk away and leave you unsatisfied?
[At this, he lifts his hips, pressing them against Alhaitham's to ensure his meaning is crystal clear. It isn't every day Kaveh's in the mood to be so bold and forward, but tonight, at least, it seems he's skewing towards demanding what he wants.]
There's a strange intimacy to having Kaveh unravel his glove, like Alhaitham is relinquishing control of something delicate. What affects Alhaitham even more is how Kaveh rebuffs him so confidently, knowing that Alhaitham is just as weak to him as the reverse.
Arousal spikes upward from his hips as Kaveh rocks against him, and suddenly Alhaitham's throat is dry as a desert when he swallows. Kaveh is at his most attractive when he's self-assured, articulate, equalizing. Someday, Alhaitham might tell Kaveh how often he wanted to interrupt their scholarly arguments by shoving him against the nearest surface and kissing him absolutely breathless. ]
You wouldn't. [ He slowly closes his lips over Kaveh's throat. ] I won't let you.
[ Because regardless of Kaveh's assertion, the both of them want this badly and they know it. It would be different if Kaveh was truly fed up with him, but Alhaitham knows when Kaveh wants to be chased.
He lowers himself down to hook his arms around Kaveh's thighs. Using the wall behind them for leverage, he lifts Kaveh against his chest, hoisting one leg over each hip. Kaveh's weight is perfectly serviceable; he could walk them to the bedroom now, but he can't ignore the chance to press flush against the line of Kaveh's body and kiss him hard enough to ache, tongue curling into his mouth. So that's what he does.
At least he made progress. Let him be lovestruck for a second. (He's always lovestruck.) ]
[It's not exactly what he asked for, but that doesn't matter, really. Alhaitham knows to look past his words, and all Kaveh truly wanted was some nebulous idea of more. Alhaitham gives him that in spades, and he does so with so little hesitation that Kaveh can't help but be swept up in it.
He wraps his legs around Alhaitham's waist, locking his ankles at the infuriatingly attractive curve of Alhaitham's lower back. Whatever quip or retort he had dies on his tongue, and the glow of his Vision dies too, the stolen mistletoe falling to the ground. He probably could've kept it up if he'd tried, but it's served its purpose--and he'd much rather focus on this anyway.
There's an intensity to Alhaitham's kiss that Kaveh would think, were he of the mind to ponder it, most people likely wouldn't expect. Kaveh, too, had initially been startled by the apparent depth of Alhaitham's attraction--but then, that's because he'd actively tried to cut off his own longing for so long. Even these days, it's sometimes difficult to accept that Alhaitham seems to desire him so fervently--to realize that he could throw himself across Alhaitham's lap at almost any moment of the day, and Alhaitham would rather pull him closer than push him off. Away.
On nights like this, though, it all makes perfect sense. Of course Alhaitham would be demanding. Of course his spoiled junior would have no qualms with taking exactly what he wants, would see absolutely no reason to hide his desire, especially when Kaveh's already made it clear he's open and willing. If Kaveh could, he'd be smiling, warmed to his core as he is by Alhaitham's shameless passion--but, ironically, Alhaitham's kissing him too deeply for that.
Instead, Kaveh does the next best thing he can think of. He abandons Alhaitham's glove, one hand rising to cup Alhaitham's face while the other settles on his collarbone, grasping at black fabric. He meets Alhaitham's kisses with a fire that borders on desperation, making soft, breathless sounds in the back of his throat. Alhaitham's right--there's no way Kaveh would walk away, not with how much he, too, craves this. Right now, he would rather endure hours of Alhaitham's teasing than deprive himself of Alhaitham's touch even for a moment.
[ It should matter that Kaveh's fingers are going to stretch the fabric of his shirt, or that his heels are digging into the muscle in his lower back, or that his mouth still tastes almost syrupy sweet. Instead, it stokes that same desperate fire in Alhaitham's chest that he's carried for years. It flared and flickered each time Kaveh tied up his hair and exposed the perfect curve of his neck; when Kaveh stepped rain-soaked into the foyer, peeling off his cloak and sash while complaining about the weather; whenever Kaveh bit into stone fruit that left his lips shining. Even when they would debate and debase and flay one another, when it hurt or left a mess in its wake, Alhaitham filled his daydreams with Kaveh, his beautiful work-worn hands and soft-looking hair and the timbre of his voice calling his name.
It's only right that Kaveh would dig into muscle and make a mess of Alhaitham's clothes. Alhaitham can stomach sweetness if only from his lips. It only makes his desire grow stronger.
For all their arguments and headaches, Alhaitham is fully aware of his own luck. Kaveh isn't entirely oblivious to the attention he receives—it's part of his act to look affluent and well-off, after all—but he is to the sheer scale of it. Who wouldn't be this fervent when Kaveh's within their grasp, teasing and so clearly wanting them back?
No one could desire him as much as Alhaitham does. Certainly not in this moment, when it's tempting to forgo moving them at all and worship Kaveh here until he unravels. But Kaveh wants to move and Alhaitham can't ignore it. Kaveh expressing his wants is rare enough.
So he drags his wet mouth away from Kaveh's and licks his own lips clean, catching his breath. His eyes come open, half-lidded and hazy, as he tucks his chin over Kaveh's shoulder. ]
Hold onto me.
[ Arms still hooked around his thighs for leverage, he lifts Kaveh's weight against his chest. After stepping over their discarded clothes and trinkets, he carries Kaveh through the darkened hallways and towards his own bedroom. The door blessedly comes open with a push of his knee, and with moonlight pouring green through the stained-glass windows, he presses Kaveh to his bed with a fiery kiss, lying flush against his chest and sliding a hand into his hair. ]
[For once, Kaveh does as Alhaitham asks without argument or complaint. Alhaitham doesn't really need the help, with his strength, but Kaveh wraps an arm around his shoulders anyway, flattening his palm to feel the shift of Alhaitham's muscles through his shirt.
The urge to tease and taunt is as fickle as Kaveh's moods. As Alhaitham carries him to their--his--their room, Kaveh mouths his way along the underside of Alhaitham's jaw, settling just beneath his ear before he gives in to the urge to taste. Alhaitham's collars are typically high enough that there's no need to worry about the visibility of any marks he might leave, but right now, that's the last thing on Kaveh's mind. To Alhaitham, it may seem like he's still being a mischievous brat on purpose--but for Kaveh, it's simply a need, utterly impossible to resist.
Alhaitham can say what he wants about not caring for other's opinions--Kaveh refuses to believe he doesn't know that he's infuriatingly beautiful.
He's also moving fast enough to mollify Kaveh's impatience, enough to stoke the fire in his blood from red to blue to white. Perhaps on some other evening, he'd complain about Alhaitham manhandling him, just because he can't resist the urge to start an argument; tonight, he simply puts his trust in Alhaitham, falling back against the sheets with no resistance and dragging Alhaitham with him. He keeps his legs locked around Alhaitham's waist, but he breaks away from Alhaitham's skin to meet his kiss with equal intensity, and, freed from worrying about gravity or obstacles, he immediately drops his hands to the hem of Alhaitham's shirt, shoving it up to get at his bare skin.
He can't help himself, though. Muttered, between kisses--]
[ Alhaitham melts into Kaveh's greedy kisses. The ankles locked behind his back feel almost possessive, as if Kaveh could barely stand to pull apart from him. The fresh bruise beneath his ear hums with the memory of Kaveh's hot mouth, the press of his teeth, his soft tongue. Alhaitham thinks about removing the pins from Kaveh's hair before Kaveh's artist hands squeeze between the lines of their bodies, feeling for the hem of his shirt.
Alhaitham smiles, finally breaking their feverish bout of kissing. He pulls back and shifts his weight onto his knees, just enough to comfortably peel his shirt off of his shoulders. ]
You heard. [ He throws it somewhere away from the bed. He stays where he is for a moment in all his feeble scholar-ness, trailing his eyes down and up Kaveh's body without remorse. ] Who told you about that?
[It is possessive, in a way. Greed simmers beneath his skin, so much so that he can't help but make a soft sound of complaint as Alhaitham pulls back, even though he's the one who demanded access to bare skin in the first place.
He's easily satisfied, though. As soon as Alhaitham sits back, Kaveh's hands are on him, skating over the curves and planes of Alhaitham's body. It's not as though Alhaitham's strength is hidden by his clothing, but it's a wholly different thing to see him like this, bathed in tinted moonlight like some long-lost deity.
God. He wants to draw him like this so badly. That need is almost, almost wins out--but luckily for Alhaitham, Kaveh's had a whole evening to wind himself up with thoughts of touching, of tasting, of Alhaitham's body wrapped so tightly around his that they might as well be two sides of the same person. Art can wait, tonight.
...Oh. They were talking about something. Right. He blinks quickly, then shakes his head, dragging his gaze back to Alhaitham's eyes.]
Cyno, of course. You didn't actually think he'd let that slide, did you?
[Does he even know that Cyno attacked Alhaitham on sight?? Probably not, actually, which is extremely funny. Even if they did tell him Kaveh would've just been like "well I'm sure you deserved it" because Alhaitham was obviously fine.]
[ PROBABLY NOT... HELP. He probably doesn't know about Alhaitham's Oscar-winning moment either.
Alhaitham can't miss the way Kaveh's hands and eyes trace over his shape, following every crease of skin and push of his muscle. Alhaitham's smile quirks up one cheek, satisfied. He doesn't keep himself fit for appearances, and he's quick to divert any conversation about his looks. Being looked at by an artist, though—by Kaveh, who looks almost dazed with want—is something he can preen in.
But If Kaveh excused himself to go get pen and paper, Alhaitham would have dragged him back to bed, pinned him in place, and erased any conscious thought outside the tangle of their bodies. He hopes to do something like that regardless, but it might've happened much sooner. ]
I didn't think the General Mahamatra was one for gossip.
[ As an aside, half-hearted as he lowers himself back down over Kaveh. He kisses beneath the edge of his jaw, lips closing where his pulse beats quick, and carefully pulls the pins from Kaveh's hair, gathering them between his fingers. ]
Your earrings.
[ Kaveh can take care of those. The pins are left somewhere on the flat of their bed to be collected later; hands freed, one of them grips at Kaveh's thigh while the other slides beneath the hem of Kaveh's shirt to pinch and push the bud of his nipple in circles. He kisses down the middle of Kaveh's bare chest and finally lowers his mouth over Kaveh's other nipple, licking and sucking softly through the fabric. ]
[IT'S TRUE... literally only the Traveler knows about that and Kaveh barely talks to them, hilarious.]
He's not. You just happen to inspire a truly astounding level of disdain in others. [What a romantic thing to say when in bed with your lover... Kaveh sounds amused, though, and he welcomes Alhaitham back towards him even as he says it. His nails skate lightly upwards, over Alhaitham's collarbone and around to the back of his neck, hard enough to be felt but too gentle to truly scratch.
It's a sure sign of his good mood that he lets Alhaitham ruin his hair without a word of complaint. With the pins out, his braids fall around his face, loose and untidy. A part of him, ever-conscious of his appearance, is tempted to make Alhaitham wait for him to go tie his hair back into a ponytail. He barely even has to try to imagine the wholly unimpressed look Alhaitham would give him, and it almost makes him want to laugh--but Alhaitham's mouth is hot and insistent, and the wordless promises pressed into his skin are enough to coax him into staying put.]
Mm.
[He probably should take his earrings out--it would be the smart thing to do. But Kaveh's not ready to stop touching Alhaitham yet. He ignores him in favor of shifting his hips, loosening the tight hold he's got on Alhaitham's waist to drag his knee gently along Alhaitham's side. His other hand moves to the glove he didn't get a chance to peel off, but he only has a chance to hook his fingers into the cuff before Alhaitham distracts him. He can't help gasping, can't stop himself from twisting and squirming under Alhaitham's attentions, self-consciousness dulled by the lingering effects of the wine. He's always been sensitive, and his body always loves Alhaitham's attention just as much as his heart does. But something about tonight has his nerves lighting up even more than usual with every brush of Alhaitham's thumb, and heat in his face with every flick of his tongue.]
[ Alhaitham grips Kaveh's ribcage with both hands, holding him steady as he sucks a brand on Kaveh's bare chest, just beneath the collar of his shirt. Kaveh's more vocal and expressive than usual, and arousal tightens in Alhaitham's gut, just beneath his navel. Kaveh is beautiful—his voice, his thoughts, his every move. Alhaitham bites down softly on his nipple, through the fabric of his shirt, just to feel him arch and hear him gasp.
They'll both get their chances to de-glove each other. He kisses Kaveh's throat and begins to peel off Kaveh's gloves as well, just careful enough not to tear them with his fingers. His usual level-headedness feels unsteady from the wine, like he's moving through water and Kaveh is the only one in view. Forget about the earrings. Why are they still wearing clothes? ]
Kaveh.
[ Alhaitham's kisses travel up the side of Kaveh's neck, where his forehead brushes into the unruly waves of Kaveh's hair. He closes his eyes, nosing into the scent of padisarahs, pastries, the sweet and milky soap they share. He murmurs against Kaveh's skin, breath hot: ]
Others can think whatever they'd like. [ Alhaitham pinches, lightly twists Kaveh's nipple. Not the answer Kaveh wants to hear, but it's the truth. It's better that people think that way. It's less trouble for him and more time to devote to more important things. ] You want me. That's all that matters.
[ Kaveh will also hate this, but Alhaitham is too tipsy to acquiesce to any complaints. His only thought is to sink his teeth into Kaveh's soft skin and suck a heavy bruise where it'll peek through his hair—where Kaveh's smitten students and eager clients might see proof that the beautiful, ingenious Light of Kshahrewar belongs to someone else. (As if that's not obvious enough.)
His hands skim beneath Kaveh's shirt, riding it up to his shoulders as traces every curve of Kaveh's chest. If Kaveh lets him, he'll slide it off and onto the floor with everything else. ]
[The champagne makes Kaveh generous. Alhaitham's touch draws soft little sounds from him, and Kaveh doesn't fight them, nor does he stop himself from pressing closer, chasing the little sparks of electricity from Alhaitham's lips and fingers. He jolts at the sharp press of teeth, rewarding Alhaitham's efforts with crescent moons etched into his bare shoulder. Even in this mood, there's a quiet voice in the back of Kaveh's head, an urge to give more than he gets--but he is, at least momentarily, distracted by Alhaitham's words. OF COURSE THAT'S HIS RESPONSE...]
Ever my misanthropic junior. [Alhaitham's not a misanthrope, really, but Kaveh heads off any pedantic rebuttals by pressing his lips to Alhaitham's ear, adopting that same, playfully sly tone from earlier.] I want you, huh--says who?
[It's a dangerous quip, but Kaveh's been toeing dangerous lines all night, poking and prodding just to land them exactly where they are. It doesn't matter that it's a blatant falsehood, easily contradicted by the way he can't keep his hands to himself. It doesn't matter that he can't fully suppress his smile, that the only reason it slips from his face is the way Alhaitham's mouth draws a low groan from deep in his throat. He doesn't want Alhaitham to believe his words. He just wants to get under Alhaitham's skin, to keep Alhaitham's attention fixated on him, forever hopelessly intertwined.
He knows from experience that leaving his shirt on wouldn't really hinder them, but he craves Alhaitham's touch on his skin too much, tonight, so he sits up enough to help toss it aside. He proves himself even more of a liar by refusing to fall back against the sheets afterward, instead cupping Alhaitham's face in his hands and dragging him into a deep, languid kiss. That urge to do more, to take Alhaitham apart, swells within him again, and he breaks away, resting his hands on Alhaitham's hips.]
[ Lies, over and over. Alhaitham can't help smiling as he sighs, spurred by the wet warmth against his ear. I do, he wants to say against the smirk on Kaveh's mouth before listing out all of the evidence. Kaveh was the one who led their quiet dance at the party until they were under the mistletoe. He was the one who brought it home, who pressed the line of his body to Alhaitham's, who locked his legs around him and dug his fingertips until his skin. There's more than enough evidence that Kaveh desires him, enough to convince every judge and jury in Teyvat—
And Alhaitham could say so, but Kaveh knows this. He just wants to tease. And just as intended, it makes Alhaitham that much hungrier to make him give in. Although...
That long, deep kiss makes him melt. His hands fit around Kaveh's waist as he breathes in, letting Kaveh guide him like a tide. He chases the kiss when it ends, eyes still closed and neck craning. He's tempted to crush their lips together again with abandon before Kaveh's holding his hips.
The order makes Alhaitham's skin feel electric. Alhaitham's eyes flash open in surprise before he searches his Senior's expression. Then Alhaitham's lip curls into a smirk, and his eyes turn sharp, half-lidded, daring. He settles one hand on Kaveh's waist, the other rolling one of Kaveh's nipples between his thumb and first finger. ]
And if I don't?
[ Much better than making Kaveh give in is only doing it after they fight for a while. So fight him. Do it. ]
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If Kaveh's behavior wasn't enough of a hint that the two of them are dating, Alhaitham makes it obvious in his own ways. He lets Kaveh have his arm without half as much of a fight as usual, searches for his hand the moment they brush shoulders, tips forward just enough to deepen every kiss, and looks at Kaveh with abject and unabashed fondness, as if he were the only thing in existence. He's still Alhaitham, argumentative and judgmental, but now that the two of them are dating, he drops all pretenses of hiding his affections.
He's sobered up more by the time they arrive home, one hand around Kaveh's waist as he hoists them through the doorway. He notices the green glow of Kaveh's Vision as he slips off his last boot, crouched at eye level with Kaveh's hip. He furrows his brow before looking up at Kaveh's smirking face—and seeing a little sprig of something hanging above the doorway, just at the top of his field of view.
A mild and slow smile spreads over his lips. Alhaitham sets his shoes aside and stands up tall, reaching for Kaveh's tiny, slutty waist with both hands. ]
You actually managed to take one. [ He pulls Kaveh forward, nearly against him. His smile grows. ] I wonder what your students would think if they knew the Light of Kshahrewar was also a thief.
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Unlike your laid-back Haravatats, my students would be far too immersed in investigating the mechanics of whatever I brought them to waste time pondering their instructor's personal life. [Kaveh does not know that half the people who attend his lectures do it for his looks, which is probably for the best.] The effect seems to have worn off, anyway. I tested it before I brought it, just to be sure. It's just a decorative plant now.
[But he likes the illusion anyway; the idea of Alhaitham having no choice but to indulge him, the idea of himself being pushed into acknowledging his own desires, of having no way to back out of what he wants. At times, the thought of a wall at his back is suffocating, humiliating--but right now, when it's just them and he feels loose-limbed and mischievous, it feels like a comfortable support.
Granted, things are different in private. It's taken time, but just as Kaveh slowly warmed up to being Alhaitham's housemate, so too has he relaxed into the role of his lover. It helps, perhaps, that none of his feelings are truly new--his longing and desire were never eradicated, just locked away. And while at first, he'd felt shy and awkward, uncertain of how to behave after they'd bared their hearts to each other, he now takes solace in slipping away from the eyes of others, relinquishing his ironclad facade, and burying himself in Alhaitham's seemingly never-ending affection.
It isn't a straightforward progression, of course. There are still days when the doubt and guilt are too much to bear, nights when he's haunted by memories and he can't stand his own presence, let alone anyone else's. But this is not one of those. Tonight, he follows the trajectory Alhaitham sets for him and presses against him as he steals another kiss, indulgent and spoiled all at once.]
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The tipping point is when Kaveh meets the lines of their bodies, insistent enough for Alhaitham's heart to spill open. He's endlessly patient with Kaveh's endlessly warring thoughts, how his heartfelt longing battles against his deep and inescapable guilt. He's been awake with Kaveh through sleepless nights full of visions and nightmares. It's why he looks for indications of Kaveh's comfort and desire before letting the years of (seemingly) unrequited affection pour out of him.
This is different. Inhibitions also loosened from the alcohol, Alhaitham crowds Kaveh against the wall behind him as they kiss. He squares their hips and winds his arms around Kaveh's body, pulling their chests crushingly close. His tongue curls deeply into Kaveh's mouth, seeking out the taste of champagne and fruit and shortbread and sugar.
Alhaitham's hand is merely cool when it slides up the line of Kaveh's back. His fingertips tuck beneath the opening at the back of his shirt and press over his shoulderblade. Alhaitham's pranks aside, Kaveh's back has always been unbearably perfect. Each time the tails of his red cape flared, Alhaitham could see the bed of muscle flex beneath cream-white skin, full and refined from so many years of working in his craft.
Kaveh is so beautiful, like a bird, Alhaitham's tipsy thoughts remind him. He murmurs between kisses: ]
You were teasing.
[ In it is an unsung accusation that whether he realizes it, Kaveh provokes him by nature—by simply existing within his field of view when he can't fully express his need. ]
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That's a bold accusation. [But even his tone, now, is teasing, even as a light shiver runs up his spine at the rich warmth in Alhaitham's voice, at the press of his fingertips against bare skin. They're pressed close enough together that he can lean back into the touch without putting too much space between them, and that's precisely what he does, an unspoken demand to be touched more. There's no real risk of falling with the wall behind them, but he trusts Alhaitham to support him anyway.] What's your evidence?
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I'll present my argument then. [ Since arguing is what they're best at. ] You led me by my hand and stayed within my sight while you mingled with the crowd. You kissed me many times in front of others, yet you also ended each kiss abruptly.
[ This is an Alhaitham problem. Kaveh probably (?) kissed him for a normal amount of time, but not long enough for a tipsy Alhaitham to be satisfied with.
He leans back, eyes darting to take in every minuscule detail of Kaveh's eyes and lips. He plucks the feather from Kaveh's hair and lets it drop onto the bench beside the door. ]
... You were glowing by the end of the night. [ He cards his fingers into his hair. ] You're aware of how I feel about you, but there was no way for me to act on those feelings while we were still at the party.
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And who exactly defines the appropriate length of a kiss? I could argue that they lasted too long, and given that we were in public, I would have the stronger standing. [His eyes follow Alhaitham's movements, and he knows it would be wise to protest, to point out that he's the one who's inevitably going to have to pick up their things--but he can't bring himself to care. In fact, he cares about the exact opposite problem, and he sets about solving it by seeking out the fastenings of Alhaitham's jacket, fingers as deft and precise as always. He can't even be all that fussed about the hairpins Alhaitham's probably knocking askew; he simply turns his face towards Alhaitham's hand, seeking to press a kiss to his palm. There's the slightest tinge of embarrassment at Alhaitham's compliments, but that, too, is overshadowed by his own want.
Kaveh is a terribly selfish man, at his core. But if the stars have aligned to grant him this, to ensure his desire aligns so perfectly with Alhaitham's, then he isn't going to complain.]
I have no control over your perceptions. And how do you know it wasn't the drink? [There's a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, though, and he's clearly trying not to smile too much.] Or maybe it's your eyesight. All that time staring at books indoors, of course you would start seeing auras. Maybe we should get them checked.
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He lets his coat fall from his shoulder and spool to the floor, ornaments jingling, in a half-circle around their feet. Alhaitham takes this as further permission to indulge, as though he wasn't already intent on easing Kaveh out of his clothes if he would allow it. For a moment, those glinting red eyes and pull of his lips hold him captive. He can't remember how long he's wanted Kaveh to look at him this way—daring, confident, and full of affection. Desire swells beneath Alhaitham's ribs.
He turns his head and closes a kiss over Kaveh's smiling mouth, breathing in. At the same time, he (reluctantly) brings both hands to blindly unclasp the brooch over Kaveh's collarbone. ]
You've been this way since we were scholars in the Akademiya.
[ The brooch and cape slide to the floor. The sash around Kaveh's waist is next. All the while, Alhaitham presses open-mouthed kisses down the line of Kaveh's exposed neck, tasting salt and sweetness. ]
In instances where you feel the utmost comfort or confidence, it's impossible to look away from you.
[ He's being completely honest, but does he also want to fluster Kaveh? A little. (A lot.) ]
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Predictably, Alhaitham's words have the desired effect; with the tables turned, Kaveh's teasing smile drops off into a reflexive scowl, and he grumbles even as he buries his hands back in Alhaitham's hair.]
Alright, alright, enough flattery out of you. [Now he wants to stop talking... okay Kaveh...] Are we going to stand here all night, or are you going to take me to bed?
[The audacity of him to say this when he started it]
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He pulls back from Kaveh's neck just to smirk at him. ]
I was under the impression that we were putting your contraband to good use.
[ Also, Kaveh's sash is gone now, so there's nothing stopping Alhaitham from sliding both hands over his ass. He's unstoppable. ]
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I'm quite certain this isn't part of the tradition. [He says that, but he doesn't pull away or tell him to stop.]
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If we're adhering to tradition, we should stop here then.
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Would it kill you to listen to anything I say, for once? [He told you to take him to bed!!]
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Obviously unintimidated, Alhaitham brings Kaveh's hand to his cheek and kisses his palm. ]
I'm listening. You asked if we were going to stay here or if I was going to take you to the bedroom.
[ Alhaitham tilts his head and slowly kisses down the side of Kaveh's neck. If Alhaitham pushes Kaveh's buttons too hard, Kaveh might actually step on his foot again and walk away. Apparently this is a risk he's willing to take. ]
If you want me to do something for you, you know how to ask for it appropriately, Senior Kaveh.
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Perhaps this positive reinforcement is the problem? ...No, it's definitely just Alhaitham.]
And you don't think it's a bold choice to be pedantic when I could walk away and leave you unsatisfied?
[At this, he lifts his hips, pressing them against Alhaitham's to ensure his meaning is crystal clear. It isn't every day Kaveh's in the mood to be so bold and forward, but tonight, at least, it seems he's skewing towards demanding what he wants.]
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There's a strange intimacy to having Kaveh unravel his glove, like Alhaitham is relinquishing control of something delicate. What affects Alhaitham even more is how Kaveh rebuffs him so confidently, knowing that Alhaitham is just as weak to him as the reverse.
Arousal spikes upward from his hips as Kaveh rocks against him, and suddenly Alhaitham's throat is dry as a desert when he swallows. Kaveh is at his most attractive when he's self-assured, articulate, equalizing. Someday, Alhaitham might tell Kaveh how often he wanted to interrupt their scholarly arguments by shoving him against the nearest surface and kissing him absolutely breathless. ]
You wouldn't. [ He slowly closes his lips over Kaveh's throat. ] I won't let you.
[ Because regardless of Kaveh's assertion, the both of them want this badly and they know it. It would be different if Kaveh was truly fed up with him, but Alhaitham knows when Kaveh wants to be chased.
He lowers himself down to hook his arms around Kaveh's thighs. Using the wall behind them for leverage, he lifts Kaveh against his chest, hoisting one leg over each hip. Kaveh's weight is perfectly serviceable; he could walk them to the bedroom now, but he can't ignore the chance to press flush against the line of Kaveh's body and kiss him hard enough to ache, tongue curling into his mouth. So that's what he does.
At least he made progress. Let him be lovestruck for a second. (He's always lovestruck.) ]
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He wraps his legs around Alhaitham's waist, locking his ankles at the infuriatingly attractive curve of Alhaitham's lower back. Whatever quip or retort he had dies on his tongue, and the glow of his Vision dies too, the stolen mistletoe falling to the ground. He probably could've kept it up if he'd tried, but it's served its purpose--and he'd much rather focus on this anyway.
There's an intensity to Alhaitham's kiss that Kaveh would think, were he of the mind to ponder it, most people likely wouldn't expect. Kaveh, too, had initially been startled by the apparent depth of Alhaitham's attraction--but then, that's because he'd actively tried to cut off his own longing for so long. Even these days, it's sometimes difficult to accept that Alhaitham seems to desire him so fervently--to realize that he could throw himself across Alhaitham's lap at almost any moment of the day, and Alhaitham would rather pull him closer than push him off. Away.
On nights like this, though, it all makes perfect sense. Of course Alhaitham would be demanding. Of course his spoiled junior would have no qualms with taking exactly what he wants, would see absolutely no reason to hide his desire, especially when Kaveh's already made it clear he's open and willing. If Kaveh could, he'd be smiling, warmed to his core as he is by Alhaitham's shameless passion--but, ironically, Alhaitham's kissing him too deeply for that.
Instead, Kaveh does the next best thing he can think of. He abandons Alhaitham's glove, one hand rising to cup Alhaitham's face while the other settles on his collarbone, grasping at black fabric. He meets Alhaitham's kisses with a fire that borders on desperation, making soft, breathless sounds in the back of his throat. Alhaitham's right--there's no way Kaveh would walk away, not with how much he, too, craves this. Right now, he would rather endure hours of Alhaitham's teasing than deprive himself of Alhaitham's touch even for a moment.
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It's only right that Kaveh would dig into muscle and make a mess of Alhaitham's clothes. Alhaitham can stomach sweetness if only from his lips. It only makes his desire grow stronger.
For all their arguments and headaches, Alhaitham is fully aware of his own luck. Kaveh isn't entirely oblivious to the attention he receives—it's part of his act to look affluent and well-off, after all—but he is to the sheer scale of it. Who wouldn't be this fervent when Kaveh's within their grasp, teasing and so clearly wanting them back?
No one could desire him as much as Alhaitham does. Certainly not in this moment, when it's tempting to forgo moving them at all and worship Kaveh here until he unravels. But Kaveh wants to move and Alhaitham can't ignore it. Kaveh expressing his wants is rare enough.
So he drags his wet mouth away from Kaveh's and licks his own lips clean, catching his breath. His eyes come open, half-lidded and hazy, as he tucks his chin over Kaveh's shoulder. ]
Hold onto me.
[ Arms still hooked around his thighs for leverage, he lifts Kaveh's weight against his chest. After stepping over their discarded clothes and trinkets, he carries Kaveh through the darkened hallways and towards his own bedroom. The door blessedly comes open with a push of his knee, and with moonlight pouring green through the stained-glass windows, he presses Kaveh to his bed with a fiery kiss, lying flush against his chest and sliding a hand into his hair. ]
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The urge to tease and taunt is as fickle as Kaveh's moods. As Alhaitham carries him to their--his--their room, Kaveh mouths his way along the underside of Alhaitham's jaw, settling just beneath his ear before he gives in to the urge to taste. Alhaitham's collars are typically high enough that there's no need to worry about the visibility of any marks he might leave, but right now, that's the last thing on Kaveh's mind. To Alhaitham, it may seem like he's still being a mischievous brat on purpose--but for Kaveh, it's simply a need, utterly impossible to resist.
Alhaitham can say what he wants about not caring for other's opinions--Kaveh refuses to believe he doesn't know that he's infuriatingly beautiful.
He's also moving fast enough to mollify Kaveh's impatience, enough to stoke the fire in his blood from red to blue to white. Perhaps on some other evening, he'd complain about Alhaitham manhandling him, just because he can't resist the urge to start an argument; tonight, he simply puts his trust in Alhaitham, falling back against the sheets with no resistance and dragging Alhaitham with him. He keeps his legs locked around Alhaitham's waist, but he breaks away from Alhaitham's skin to meet his kiss with equal intensity, and, freed from worrying about gravity or obstacles, he immediately drops his hands to the hem of Alhaitham's shirt, shoving it up to get at his bare skin.
He can't help himself, though. Muttered, between kisses--]
Feeble scholar. [YEAH RIGHT. IN WHAT WORLD.]
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Alhaitham smiles, finally breaking their feverish bout of kissing. He pulls back and shifts his weight onto his knees, just enough to comfortably peel his shirt off of his shoulders. ]
You heard. [ He throws it somewhere away from the bed. He stays where he is for a moment in all his feeble scholar-ness, trailing his eyes down and up Kaveh's body without remorse. ] Who told you about that?
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He's easily satisfied, though. As soon as Alhaitham sits back, Kaveh's hands are on him, skating over the curves and planes of Alhaitham's body. It's not as though Alhaitham's strength is hidden by his clothing, but it's a wholly different thing to see him like this, bathed in tinted moonlight like some long-lost deity.
God. He wants to draw him like this so badly. That need is almost, almost wins out--but luckily for Alhaitham, Kaveh's had a whole evening to wind himself up with thoughts of touching, of tasting, of Alhaitham's body wrapped so tightly around his that they might as well be two sides of the same person. Art can wait, tonight.
...Oh. They were talking about something. Right. He blinks quickly, then shakes his head, dragging his gaze back to Alhaitham's eyes.]
Cyno, of course. You didn't actually think he'd let that slide, did you?
[Does he even know that Cyno attacked Alhaitham on sight?? Probably not, actually, which is extremely funny. Even if they did tell him Kaveh would've just been like "well I'm sure you deserved it" because Alhaitham was obviously fine.]
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Alhaitham can't miss the way Kaveh's hands and eyes trace over his shape, following every crease of skin and push of his muscle. Alhaitham's smile quirks up one cheek, satisfied. He doesn't keep himself fit for appearances, and he's quick to divert any conversation about his looks. Being looked at by an artist, though—by Kaveh, who looks almost dazed with want—is something he can preen in.
But If Kaveh excused himself to go get pen and paper, Alhaitham would have dragged him back to bed, pinned him in place, and erased any conscious thought outside the tangle of their bodies. He hopes to do something like that regardless, but it might've happened much sooner. ]
I didn't think the General Mahamatra was one for gossip.
[ As an aside, half-hearted as he lowers himself back down over Kaveh. He kisses beneath the edge of his jaw, lips closing where his pulse beats quick, and carefully pulls the pins from Kaveh's hair, gathering them between his fingers. ]
Your earrings.
[ Kaveh can take care of those. The pins are left somewhere on the flat of their bed to be collected later; hands freed, one of them grips at Kaveh's thigh while the other slides beneath the hem of Kaveh's shirt to pinch and push the bud of his nipple in circles. He kisses down the middle of Kaveh's bare chest and finally lowers his mouth over Kaveh's other nipple, licking and sucking softly through the fabric. ]
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He's not. You just happen to inspire a truly astounding level of disdain in others. [What a romantic thing to say when in bed with your lover... Kaveh sounds amused, though, and he welcomes Alhaitham back towards him even as he says it. His nails skate lightly upwards, over Alhaitham's collarbone and around to the back of his neck, hard enough to be felt but too gentle to truly scratch.
It's a sure sign of his good mood that he lets Alhaitham ruin his hair without a word of complaint. With the pins out, his braids fall around his face, loose and untidy. A part of him, ever-conscious of his appearance, is tempted to make Alhaitham wait for him to go tie his hair back into a ponytail. He barely even has to try to imagine the wholly unimpressed look Alhaitham would give him, and it almost makes him want to laugh--but Alhaitham's mouth is hot and insistent, and the wordless promises pressed into his skin are enough to coax him into staying put.]
Mm.
[He probably should take his earrings out--it would be the smart thing to do. But Kaveh's not ready to stop touching Alhaitham yet. He ignores him in favor of shifting his hips, loosening the tight hold he's got on Alhaitham's waist to drag his knee gently along Alhaitham's side. His other hand moves to the glove he didn't get a chance to peel off, but he only has a chance to hook his fingers into the cuff before Alhaitham distracts him. He can't help gasping, can't stop himself from twisting and squirming under Alhaitham's attentions, self-consciousness dulled by the lingering effects of the wine. He's always been sensitive, and his body always loves Alhaitham's attention just as much as his heart does. But something about tonight has his nerves lighting up even more than usual with every brush of Alhaitham's thumb, and heat in his face with every flick of his tongue.]
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They'll both get their chances to de-glove each other. He kisses Kaveh's throat and begins to peel off Kaveh's gloves as well, just careful enough not to tear them with his fingers. His usual level-headedness feels unsteady from the wine, like he's moving through water and Kaveh is the only one in view. Forget about the earrings. Why are they still wearing clothes? ]
Kaveh.
[ Alhaitham's kisses travel up the side of Kaveh's neck, where his forehead brushes into the unruly waves of Kaveh's hair. He closes his eyes, nosing into the scent of padisarahs, pastries, the sweet and milky soap they share. He murmurs against Kaveh's skin, breath hot: ]
Others can think whatever they'd like. [ Alhaitham pinches, lightly twists Kaveh's nipple. Not the answer Kaveh wants to hear, but it's the truth. It's better that people think that way. It's less trouble for him and more time to devote to more important things. ] You want me. That's all that matters.
[ Kaveh will also hate this, but Alhaitham is too tipsy to acquiesce to any complaints. His only thought is to sink his teeth into Kaveh's soft skin and suck a heavy bruise where it'll peek through his hair—where Kaveh's smitten students and eager clients might see proof that the beautiful, ingenious Light of Kshahrewar belongs to someone else. (As if that's not obvious enough.)
His hands skim beneath Kaveh's shirt, riding it up to his shoulders as traces every curve of Kaveh's chest. If Kaveh lets him, he'll slide it off and onto the floor with everything else. ]
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Ever my misanthropic junior. [Alhaitham's not a misanthrope, really, but Kaveh heads off any pedantic rebuttals by pressing his lips to Alhaitham's ear, adopting that same, playfully sly tone from earlier.] I want you, huh--says who?
[It's a dangerous quip, but Kaveh's been toeing dangerous lines all night, poking and prodding just to land them exactly where they are. It doesn't matter that it's a blatant falsehood, easily contradicted by the way he can't keep his hands to himself. It doesn't matter that he can't fully suppress his smile, that the only reason it slips from his face is the way Alhaitham's mouth draws a low groan from deep in his throat. He doesn't want Alhaitham to believe his words. He just wants to get under Alhaitham's skin, to keep Alhaitham's attention fixated on him, forever hopelessly intertwined.
He knows from experience that leaving his shirt on wouldn't really hinder them, but he craves Alhaitham's touch on his skin too much, tonight, so he sits up enough to help toss it aside. He proves himself even more of a liar by refusing to fall back against the sheets afterward, instead cupping Alhaitham's face in his hands and dragging him into a deep, languid kiss. That urge to do more, to take Alhaitham apart, swells within him again, and he breaks away, resting his hands on Alhaitham's hips.]
Lay down.
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And Alhaitham could say so, but Kaveh knows this. He just wants to tease. And just as intended, it makes Alhaitham that much hungrier to make him give in. Although...
That long, deep kiss makes him melt. His hands fit around Kaveh's waist as he breathes in, letting Kaveh guide him like a tide. He chases the kiss when it ends, eyes still closed and neck craning. He's tempted to crush their lips together again with abandon before Kaveh's holding his hips.
The order makes Alhaitham's skin feel electric. Alhaitham's eyes flash open in surprise before he searches his Senior's expression. Then Alhaitham's lip curls into a smirk, and his eyes turn sharp, half-lidded, daring. He settles one hand on Kaveh's waist, the other rolling one of Kaveh's nipples between his thumb and first finger. ]
And if I don't?
[ Much better than making Kaveh give in is only doing it after they fight for a while. So fight him. Do it. ]
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