[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. ]
[It's so dangerously easy to go along with what Alhaitham wants, sometimes. Kaveh is hardly bound to Alhaitham's whims, inside the bedroom or out of it, but that doesn't mean he never listens. Alhaitham, after all, makes him feel safe--in ways that transcend sweetness and desire. Alhaitham is safe the way the gods are safe: unmoved by the irrationalities of mortals. Kaveh could weep at his feet, could scream and lash out, could make the most selfish demands in the world, and still, Alhaitham would no sooner cast him aside than Lesser Lord Kusanali would abandon her people.
It's still difficult to convince himself of that, some days. Most, if Kaveh's really honest with himself, even if Alhaitham has proven his devotion time and time again. But Alhaitham's love asks for trust. It asks Kaveh to let himself become an unsightly mess, and to believe that Alhaitham would not want to look away.
Alhaitham makes him feel so safe, so loved, so wanted that it's frightening--and often, Kaveh lets himself get swept away, lulled by Alhaitham's steady confidence and tangible desire. It's tempting now, too. Alhaitham's hands already feel so good on his skin, his touch hot as a brand. He'd only made his request on a whim, after all--would it be so bad to let Alhaitham keep going? To let his fingers drift down, over his ribs, his stomach, his hips, lower--
But then Alhaitham's eyes flash, and oh, Kaveh knows that look. Alhaitham's words are utterly unsurprising, and Kaveh has to press his lips together to hide his smile. He clears his throat, then summons up an impatient sigh.]
You were complaining not ten minutes ago that I didn't pay enough attention to you at the party, and now that I'm ready to give it to you, you don't want it anymore? [He clucks his tongue as he sits up all the way, pushing his way into Alhaitham's lap.] One would think you'd shrivel up and die if you listened to me without question for once. What benefit would ignoring my request bring? Or is it a risk you're afraid of, hm?
[ Alhaitham doesn't resist as Kaveh climbs over him until he's straddling Alhaitham's hips. He just flattens a hand against the small of Kaveh's back while the other hand traces the underside of Kaveh's thigh. He can see the smile in Kaveh's eyes as it threatens to reach his lips, and satisfaction curls in Alhaitham's stomach like a flame.
Kaveh likens Alhaitham to an unshakable god whose love is unconditional, but right now Alhaitham watches Kaveh above him with the eyes of a devoted and mischievous subject, prodding his deity to either reveal his full potential or relinquish himself to Alhaitham's worship. ]
I'm not afraid of you, Senior.
[ Unless Kaveh resists him, Alhaitham grips Kaveh's leg and lunges him back against the bed, pinning him down with the weight of his body. His eyes are bright as he brushes the tip of his nose alongside Kaveh's. His lungs feel hot, wine still threading through his blood and stirring his thoughts. ]
Wanting your attention is not the same thing as needing to be touched. Perhaps I want you to look at me while I touch you instead.
[ He brushes his lips down before he bites hard on the side of Kaveh's neck, just where it starts to slope down to his shoulder. ]
[The problem with being a brat for fun is that it's so easy to lose the will to commit. For all that Kaveh had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into admitting he wanted this--for all his high maintenance demands and his endless list of complaints about Alhaitham's attitude, Alhaitham can make him crumble with the barest touch and the shortest phrase. When they debate, Alhaitham manages to fire him up unlike anyone else--but here, it's a rare night that Alhaitham can't sharpen his affection into a weapon, perfectly aimed at every one of Kaveh's weaknesses.
He'd had some vague idea of taking his time, of stripping them both the rest of the way and teasing Alhaitham with his words and his hands until he got annoyed for real. But clearly he'd underestimated just how much he'd already riled Alhaitham up over the course of the evening. Alhaitham surges forward, knocks the breath out of him, and wrings a low moan from him with his teeth, scattering Kaveh's thoughts to the wind. He writhes, but Alhaiham's got him trapped--but rather than annoy Kaveh or spur him into fighting, Alhaitham's weight above him simply sets him ablaze.]
Haitham.
[To hell with it. He can have his way some other night. Right now, the only response he can give is Alhaitham's name, approval, encouragement, and an all-encompassing plea bundled up into a single word. He can't stay still, but it's not an attempt to escape--he simply needs to be as close to Alhaitham as possible, immediately. Wrapping his arms around Alhaitham, urging him closer, is so much better when they're skin to skin, and Kaveh's fingers flex like he's trying not to dig his nails into Alhaitham's shoulders.]
[ Kaveh's voice engulfs him like a tidal wave, warm and heavy and irresistible, swallowing him into its current. Alhaitham makes it known when Kaveh's voice grates him, how sometimes it's more like squawking than anything else, but in moments like these, the sound is completely disarming. Kaveh pours all of his sincere emotions into a single breath, saying his name like a prayer, dripping with need. It's the sound that a younger Alhaitham imagined in the quiet of his dorm at night, or before the two of them finally opened up their hearts that night in their kitchen. He would listen to nothing but his name from Kaveh's lips if it were possible.
Kaveh's fingertips press into his shoulder blades and Alhaitham wills them to sear into him, to part his flesh and draw his blood beneath his nails. He wants it to burn, because it will mean that Kaveh's lost in pleasure and forgone all restraint. Kaveh wraps around him, drags him down, and Kaveh will feel Alhaitham's heart hammering between their bare chests, unrelenting as always.
You don't know what you do to me, he wants to say. Instead, as he wraps his fingers around Kaveh's cock and swirls his thumb over its leaking head, he murmurs into the soft curl of Kaveh's ear: ]
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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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It's still difficult to convince himself of that, some days. Most, if Kaveh's really honest with himself, even if Alhaitham has proven his devotion time and time again. But Alhaitham's love asks for trust. It asks Kaveh to let himself become an unsightly mess, and to believe that Alhaitham would not want to look away.
Alhaitham makes him feel so safe, so loved, so wanted that it's frightening--and often, Kaveh lets himself get swept away, lulled by Alhaitham's steady confidence and tangible desire. It's tempting now, too. Alhaitham's hands already feel so good on his skin, his touch hot as a brand. He'd only made his request on a whim, after all--would it be so bad to let Alhaitham keep going? To let his fingers drift down, over his ribs, his stomach, his hips, lower--
But then Alhaitham's eyes flash, and oh, Kaveh knows that look. Alhaitham's words are utterly unsurprising, and Kaveh has to press his lips together to hide his smile. He clears his throat, then summons up an impatient sigh.]
You were complaining not ten minutes ago that I didn't pay enough attention to you at the party, and now that I'm ready to give it to you, you don't want it anymore? [He clucks his tongue as he sits up all the way, pushing his way into Alhaitham's lap.] One would think you'd shrivel up and die if you listened to me without question for once. What benefit would ignoring my request bring? Or is it a risk you're afraid of, hm?
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Kaveh likens Alhaitham to an unshakable god whose love is unconditional, but right now Alhaitham watches Kaveh above him with the eyes of a devoted and mischievous subject, prodding his deity to either reveal his full potential or relinquish himself to Alhaitham's worship. ]
I'm not afraid of you, Senior.
[ Unless Kaveh resists him, Alhaitham grips Kaveh's leg and lunges him back against the bed, pinning him down with the weight of his body. His eyes are bright as he brushes the tip of his nose alongside Kaveh's. His lungs feel hot, wine still threading through his blood and stirring his thoughts. ]
Wanting your attention is not the same thing as needing to be touched. Perhaps I want you to look at me while I touch you instead.
[ He brushes his lips down before he bites hard on the side of Kaveh's neck, just where it starts to slope down to his shoulder. ]
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He'd had some vague idea of taking his time, of stripping them both the rest of the way and teasing Alhaitham with his words and his hands until he got annoyed for real. But clearly he'd underestimated just how much he'd already riled Alhaitham up over the course of the evening. Alhaitham surges forward, knocks the breath out of him, and wrings a low moan from him with his teeth, scattering Kaveh's thoughts to the wind. He writhes, but Alhaiham's got him trapped--but rather than annoy Kaveh or spur him into fighting, Alhaitham's weight above him simply sets him ablaze.]
Haitham.
[To hell with it. He can have his way some other night. Right now, the only response he can give is Alhaitham's name, approval, encouragement, and an all-encompassing plea bundled up into a single word. He can't stay still, but it's not an attempt to escape--he simply needs to be as close to Alhaitham as possible, immediately. Wrapping his arms around Alhaitham, urging him closer, is so much better when they're skin to skin, and Kaveh's fingers flex like he's trying not to dig his nails into Alhaitham's shoulders.]
Haitham, please.
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Kaveh's fingertips press into his shoulder blades and Alhaitham wills them to sear into him, to part his flesh and draw his blood beneath his nails. He wants it to burn, because it will mean that Kaveh's lost in pleasure and forgone all restraint. Kaveh wraps around him, drags him down, and Kaveh will feel Alhaitham's heart hammering between their bare chests, unrelenting as always.
You don't know what you do to me, he wants to say. Instead, as he wraps his fingers around Kaveh's cock and swirls his thumb over its leaking head, he murmurs into the soft curl of Kaveh's ear: ]
What do you need, Kaveh?