So Alhaitham cups the back of Kaveh's head, and nuzzles his nose in a up and down motion, and maybe it's a nod, an affirmation, but he doesn't confirm it with his voice, nor denies it. Alhaitham knows that if he does reply that he knows, has always known, it'll be somewhat infuriating for Kaveh. He doesn't deny the flurry of irrational feelings thrumming his ribcage, making him antsy, the rush that goes through him when he's kissed and whispered their well-kept secret.
Because it is well-kept, so very tight and foolproofed. But what a rounded, well-assumed hypothesis would answer everything about them, the intimate decibels in their voices, the manoeuvres within their house. The ease with which the air slips between them, be it between their throats, or their bodies, weaves through their hair like Alhaitham often fixes Kaveh's pins and Kaveh arranges the cable from his headphones. It explains them, it justifies them—their moments, good or terrible. It lends reason to the long, leisured purse of Alhaitham's lips against Kaveh's, the sigh in the scribe's lungs as he kisses him meaningfully.]
no subject
That is a very dangerous question.
So Alhaitham cups the back of Kaveh's head, and nuzzles his nose in a up and down motion, and maybe it's a nod, an affirmation, but he doesn't confirm it with his voice, nor denies it. Alhaitham knows that if he does reply that he knows, has always known, it'll be somewhat infuriating for Kaveh. He doesn't deny the flurry of irrational feelings thrumming his ribcage, making him antsy, the rush that goes through him when he's kissed and whispered their well-kept secret.
Because it is well-kept, so very tight and foolproofed. But what a rounded, well-assumed hypothesis would answer everything about them, the intimate decibels in their voices, the manoeuvres within their house. The ease with which the air slips between them, be it between their throats, or their bodies, weaves through their hair like Alhaitham often fixes Kaveh's pins and Kaveh arranges the cable from his headphones. It explains them, it justifies them—their moments, good or terrible. It lends reason to the long, leisured purse of Alhaitham's lips against Kaveh's, the sigh in the scribe's lungs as he kisses him meaningfully.]
Do you know? ['That I am? He tilts his head.]