[ There's something, Kaveh realizes, almost reverent in Alhaitham's touches, something that makes the blonde's heart flutter with a depth of desire he doesn't dare speak— with love, if he's courageous enough to put a name on it even within his own heart. It's magnetic, the realization— drawing his attention away even from the kisses pressed into his mouth, leaving his head spinning as he murmurs his appreciation for the sensations.
His own hands are quick to answer in kind, exploring the sharp lines of Alhaitham's cheeks, the soft wisps of hair mussed and loose against his skin, the strength of the muscles under his skin-tight shirt; and he hums into their kiss, tongue swiping over the jut of the younger's lower lip. ]
You're wearing too many clothes, [ he mumbles into Alhaitham's mouth, fingers seeking around his waist for a seam or hem of some sort— he's imagined many times removing the scribe's clothing, but never thought to pay attention to how it's actually done. ] Help me take this off...
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His own hands are quick to answer in kind, exploring the sharp lines of Alhaitham's cheeks, the soft wisps of hair mussed and loose against his skin, the strength of the muscles under his skin-tight shirt; and he hums into their kiss, tongue swiping over the jut of the younger's lower lip. ]
You're wearing too many clothes, [ he mumbles into Alhaitham's mouth, fingers seeking around his waist for a seam or hem of some sort— he's imagined many times removing the scribe's clothing, but never thought to pay attention to how it's actually done. ] Help me take this off...