[ Of course he's met with a roll of his eyes, because even though he can read into the affection in the phrase (despite Alhaitham's classically straight-faced delivery), of course the scribe would tease him for thatโ even if he's not actually wrong, because Kaveh definitely did not give enough thought to how their dynamic would change when he moved into the other's house, outside of course from the embarrassment that he knew would come hand in hand with needing to learn to live out of someone else's pocket.
He won't bother, then, to tell the other man that he hoped it was just a passing fad that would fade over time. The logic behind that had been weak at best, but he still allowed himself to be convinced. He's sure the scribe would judge him for it. (Hell, he practically judges himself.)
Besides, there's no time for that or even room to think about it, because he's being rewarded for his honesty, his eyes falling shut and lips immediately parting into the firmness of Alhaitham's mouth, and he feels his pulse quicken under his skin, a sigh of content that has him canting forward, fingers loosening only to tighten once more. The attempt at romanticism isn't lost on him, is actually enough to win him over all on its own, and so when the kiss is broken with a tug of his lower lip, there's an unhappy, protesting sound on his mouth, a moment where he goes to chase Alhaitham until the scribe starts talking instead.
The living room is nearer, but Kaveh's too sentimental to want this to be on a sofa, which means the answer is easy, and his hand untangles from silver strands, a smile forming on his lips. ]
Bedroom.
[ And maybe it makes him too obviously eager, but as he pulls away to move in the direction of the scribe's roomโ it's the nearest of the twoโ he's already working to undo the brooch that holds his cape on his shoulders, to loosen the belt wrapped around his waist. ]
no subject
He won't bother, then, to tell the other man that he hoped it was just a passing fad that would fade over time. The logic behind that had been weak at best, but he still allowed himself to be convinced. He's sure the scribe would judge him for it. (Hell, he practically judges himself.)
Besides, there's no time for that or even room to think about it, because he's being rewarded for his honesty, his eyes falling shut and lips immediately parting into the firmness of Alhaitham's mouth, and he feels his pulse quicken under his skin, a sigh of content that has him canting forward, fingers loosening only to tighten once more. The attempt at romanticism isn't lost on him, is actually enough to win him over all on its own, and so when the kiss is broken with a tug of his lower lip, there's an unhappy, protesting sound on his mouth, a moment where he goes to chase Alhaitham until the scribe starts talking instead.
The living room is nearer, but Kaveh's too sentimental to want this to be on a sofa, which means the answer is easy, and his hand untangles from silver strands, a smile forming on his lips. ]
Bedroom.
[ And maybe it makes him too obviously eager, but as he pulls away to move in the direction of the scribe's roomโ it's the nearest of the twoโ he's already working to undo the brooch that holds his cape on his shoulders, to loosen the belt wrapped around his waist. ]