[ The momentary insecurity is enough that Kaveh isn't quite expecting what happens next: he's swept into Alhaitham's arms, practically bridal style, and carried to the bed, a hum of delight on his lips as he's lowered into the mattress, as the younger man slumps into him, nuzzling into his chest in a way that the blonde can only assume such a tumble was deliberate. It's the first time in their entire co-habitation where he doesn't immediately respond to the scribe's action with criticism or complaint— instead, it's a contented smile, a firm grasp of Alhaitham's face that he might tug the other's mouth back to meet his.
There's a lot he wants to say, but they're things best saved for when he's no longer drunk— or perhaps things he shouldn't say at all, depending on how Alhaitham reacts in the morning— and so he simply slots their mouths together, picking right up where they left off as a soft nibble of teeth and flick of tongue serve to coax the other back in. ]
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There's a lot he wants to say, but they're things best saved for when he's no longer drunk— or perhaps things he shouldn't say at all, depending on how Alhaitham reacts in the morning— and so he simply slots their mouths together, picking right up where they left off as a soft nibble of teeth and flick of tongue serve to coax the other back in. ]