[ Yeah. It's fine. Even if Kaveh's intention is different, Alhaitham reads the answer as noncommittal—definitely not what Alhaitham wants to hear. It's not I've only ever slept with you since we met. It's You can fuck me raw. The risk you take is up to you.
Kaveh maintains that separation between them and it hurts. There's only a brief flash of that disappointment on Alhaitham's face before it's overtaken; it twists and slackens as Kaveh works his cock in his hand. Kaveh's hands are one of Alhaitham's favorite parts about him—deft, expert, intentional, gentle or unrelenting when the situation calls for it. They've made a trembling, slick mess of Alhaitham before, shiny with sweat and smeared with grime, and now they quickly bring him to fullness.
But he doesn't want to come just yet. He finally draws his fingers out from Kaveh, lubricant dripping from his knuckles, and slides them underneath Kaveh's hand to quickly oil his cock. Alhaitham slides back from the car hood onto his feet, and after he finds his footing, he pulls off and haphazardly tosses Kaveh's somewhere on the floor, not caring where. Kaveh's pants are next, shoved down to Kaveh's ankles as Alhaitham presses open-mouthed kisses to his thigh, the inner corner of his knee. He only manages to yank Kaveh's clothes from one leg before he climbs up the hood once again, diving down to catch Kaveh in a heavy, hungry kiss as his hips bear down.
Throughout all of this, Alhaitham is different than usual. Where he would be somewhat arrogant, teasing, bringing Kaveh to his breaking point for his own pleasure, he instead reflects Kaveh's urgency, frustrated at how many barriers are still between their bodies. He slides one hand up Kaveh's back, arching him upward to meet their chests. The other cards in his hair, pulling again to tilt his head. He bites Kaveh's lip, pries open his mouth, and licks deeply inside, searching for his taste. His thoughts are fogged with impatience and greed.
Alhaitham isn't an insecure person wallowing in self-doubt and perceived inadequacy. He knows precisely what he wants and that his own value has little to do with taking it. There is evidence that Kaveh wants him back just as badly. They wouldn't be doing this if he didn't. Until now, Alhaitham held back on actively pursuing him only for Kaveh's own sake, knowing that his misfortune and toils and history made it difficult for him to accept anyone's affections.
But, again, Alhaitham could have lost everything. He isn't concerned with his legacy or belongings, and there's no one left alive who would mourn him. There's only Kaveh and what could have been and how foolish it is to remain dishonest and ignore what makes Alhaitham feel whole. ]
[Alhaitham doesn't speak, and despite the pleasure that still flows between them, Kaveh isn't oblivious to the shift in the air. Something makes his stomach curl in inexplicable guilt, but it's impossible to focus long enough to figure out what, exactly, it is. Alhaitham's fingers are too clever, and Kaveh is too desperate to feel him, unable to figure out the words he wants and unwilling to pull away long enough to try.
(It's for the best, anyway. It would only make a mess of things, and then they'd both be left unsatisfied, bitter, and angry. That's not what either of them need right now.)
It's easier to push his doubts away once Alhaitham withdraws. The air shifts again, but in a different way--it's charged, frenetic in a way that transcends their usual haste. Kaveh can barely keep up as Alhaitham strips him further, his hands falling back to the hood of the car to keep himself balanced. When Alhaitham rejoins him, it's all Kaveh can do to keep himself on his elbows, caught up in the tide of Alhaitham's lust as he molds their bodies together and drinks Kaveh's sounds directly from his lips.
Kaveh's never been passive, though. He isn't one to be overwhelmed by Alhaitham's force, and that's certainly isn't about to change now--not when it took so long for his heart rate to slow earlier, even after he'd seen Alhaitham emerging from the flames unscathed. He meets Alhaitham's fervor with his own, parting his lips and coaxing Alhaitham's tongue into his mouth with his own, uncaring of the trail of spit that slips down his chin. He hooks his hand around the back of Alhaitham's neck, using him for stability as he reaches for Alhaitham's cock again. He doesn't bother with any more teasing strokes. Instead, he simply shifts until there's no space left between them, urging Alhaitham inside of him.
One last time, he's always said, even though he doesn't need to look, because he knows exactly how they fit together. One last time, except Kaveh hasn't thought about anyone else like this for as long as he can remember. One last time, because they barely get along, because he's been burned too many times before, because Kaveh thought he would rather die than disrupt their flawless synergy on the track, the one good thing he's been able to cling to as he desperately tries to turn his life around--but that was before Alhaitham almost did die, and perspective is an ever-changing thing.
Kaveh doesn't want to think about that, though. He doesn't want to think anymore at all, at least for a little bit. So he sucks Alhaitham's lip into his mouth and bears his hips down, his nerves alight with anticipation at the promise of skin on slick, warm skin.]
[ This, at least, is a language they can speak well. They show their desperation through bites, tongues, scraping nails and fingertips. Kaveh takes hold of his cock and the obvious impatience makes Alhaitham shudder, feeling himself swell as Kaveh presses Alhaitham against his entrance. When Kaveh bears down, Alhaitham's hips tilt upward to meet it until he pushes deeply inside.
Alhaitham abruptly ends their kisses in thin strings of spit, barely managing to swallow. His eyes screw shut as he groans, reaching to grasp Kaveh's thigh as their hips pull flush together. He wants desperately to fuck him, make Kaveh see stars and beg him to slow down. It takes most of his willpower not to.
It helps that when he finally opens his eyes, brows still furrowed, Kaveh is there. His hair is loose and fanned out around him. His skin is shiny with sweat, slicked with oil, and it makes his eyes shine like clear, clean rubies. His throat bobs with every breath. His neck is spotted with bites and bruises. He looks gorgeous, all of him, so much that it aches.
Alhaitham wants this to be his. Hearts don't work this way, acquiescing to other people's fervent desires, but he can't help it.
With the tips of his fingers, Alhaitham lifts Kaveh's head from the hood of the car. He slips his hand through Kaveh's hair, shielding the back of his head from the metal behind it. He mouths kisses against the side of Kaveh's neck, dragging his lips upward until they reach his ear. He still smells the smoke, tastes the sweat and ash against his lips. ]
Kaveh.
[ He mutters between labored breaths. Kaveh's name spins in his head, over and over. His knees ache against the hood, taking on all of his weight as he rolls his hips, steady and slow. He savors the tightness as it sucks him in, pushing until he's completely sheathed in Kaveh's body before pulling back out to the head. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Kaveh maintains that separation between them and it hurts. There's only a brief flash of that disappointment on Alhaitham's face before it's overtaken; it twists and slackens as Kaveh works his cock in his hand. Kaveh's hands are one of Alhaitham's favorite parts about him—deft, expert, intentional, gentle or unrelenting when the situation calls for it. They've made a trembling, slick mess of Alhaitham before, shiny with sweat and smeared with grime, and now they quickly bring him to fullness.
But he doesn't want to come just yet. He finally draws his fingers out from Kaveh, lubricant dripping from his knuckles, and slides them underneath Kaveh's hand to quickly oil his cock. Alhaitham slides back from the car hood onto his feet, and after he finds his footing, he pulls off and haphazardly tosses Kaveh's somewhere on the floor, not caring where. Kaveh's pants are next, shoved down to Kaveh's ankles as Alhaitham presses open-mouthed kisses to his thigh, the inner corner of his knee. He only manages to yank Kaveh's clothes from one leg before he climbs up the hood once again, diving down to catch Kaveh in a heavy, hungry kiss as his hips bear down.
Throughout all of this, Alhaitham is different than usual. Where he would be somewhat arrogant, teasing, bringing Kaveh to his breaking point for his own pleasure, he instead reflects Kaveh's urgency, frustrated at how many barriers are still between their bodies. He slides one hand up Kaveh's back, arching him upward to meet their chests. The other cards in his hair, pulling again to tilt his head. He bites Kaveh's lip, pries open his mouth, and licks deeply inside, searching for his taste. His thoughts are fogged with impatience and greed.
Alhaitham isn't an insecure person wallowing in self-doubt and perceived inadequacy. He knows precisely what he wants and that his own value has little to do with taking it. There is evidence that Kaveh wants him back just as badly. They wouldn't be doing this if he didn't. Until now, Alhaitham held back on actively pursuing him only for Kaveh's own sake, knowing that his misfortune and toils and history made it difficult for him to accept anyone's affections.
But, again, Alhaitham could have lost everything. He isn't concerned with his legacy or belongings, and there's no one left alive who would mourn him. There's only Kaveh and what could have been and how foolish it is to remain dishonest and ignore what makes Alhaitham feel whole. ]
no subject
(It's for the best, anyway. It would only make a mess of things, and then they'd both be left unsatisfied, bitter, and angry. That's not what either of them need right now.)
It's easier to push his doubts away once Alhaitham withdraws. The air shifts again, but in a different way--it's charged, frenetic in a way that transcends their usual haste. Kaveh can barely keep up as Alhaitham strips him further, his hands falling back to the hood of the car to keep himself balanced. When Alhaitham rejoins him, it's all Kaveh can do to keep himself on his elbows, caught up in the tide of Alhaitham's lust as he molds their bodies together and drinks Kaveh's sounds directly from his lips.
Kaveh's never been passive, though. He isn't one to be overwhelmed by Alhaitham's force, and that's certainly isn't about to change now--not when it took so long for his heart rate to slow earlier, even after he'd seen Alhaitham emerging from the flames unscathed. He meets Alhaitham's fervor with his own, parting his lips and coaxing Alhaitham's tongue into his mouth with his own, uncaring of the trail of spit that slips down his chin. He hooks his hand around the back of Alhaitham's neck, using him for stability as he reaches for Alhaitham's cock again. He doesn't bother with any more teasing strokes. Instead, he simply shifts until there's no space left between them, urging Alhaitham inside of him.
One last time, he's always said, even though he doesn't need to look, because he knows exactly how they fit together. One last time, except Kaveh hasn't thought about anyone else like this for as long as he can remember. One last time, because they barely get along, because he's been burned too many times before, because Kaveh thought he would rather die than disrupt their flawless synergy on the track, the one good thing he's been able to cling to as he desperately tries to turn his life around--but that was before Alhaitham almost did die, and perspective is an ever-changing thing.
Kaveh doesn't want to think about that, though. He doesn't want to think anymore at all, at least for a little bit. So he sucks Alhaitham's lip into his mouth and bears his hips down, his nerves alight with anticipation at the promise of skin on slick, warm skin.]
no subject
Alhaitham abruptly ends their kisses in thin strings of spit, barely managing to swallow. His eyes screw shut as he groans, reaching to grasp Kaveh's thigh as their hips pull flush together. He wants desperately to fuck him, make Kaveh see stars and beg him to slow down. It takes most of his willpower not to.
It helps that when he finally opens his eyes, brows still furrowed, Kaveh is there. His hair is loose and fanned out around him. His skin is shiny with sweat, slicked with oil, and it makes his eyes shine like clear, clean rubies. His throat bobs with every breath. His neck is spotted with bites and bruises. He looks gorgeous, all of him, so much that it aches.
Alhaitham wants this to be his. Hearts don't work this way, acquiescing to other people's fervent desires, but he can't help it.
With the tips of his fingers, Alhaitham lifts Kaveh's head from the hood of the car. He slips his hand through Kaveh's hair, shielding the back of his head from the metal behind it. He mouths kisses against the side of Kaveh's neck, dragging his lips upward until they reach his ear. He still smells the smoke, tastes the sweat and ash against his lips. ]
Kaveh.
[ He mutters between labored breaths. Kaveh's name spins in his head, over and over. His knees ache against the hood, taking on all of his weight as he rolls his hips, steady and slow. He savors the tightness as it sucks him in, pushing until he's completely sheathed in Kaveh's body before pulling back out to the head. ]
You're perfect. You feel so good.