[He wants to laugh. For someone who has a reputation of being callous, blunt, unfeeling, and for someone who people automatically assume he has everything under control so they barely never ask, Alhaitham is asked how he is feeling exactly when he can't really put his finger on his own state. His mind is simultaneously blank, reeling with a clarity that he hadn't found even when he took care of himself to ease the tension in his body, to get his libido out of the way when the blonde decided to do something that, for some unfathomable reason, made Alhaitham stir. One time it was the way he tucked his hair behind his ear. Another was when he got a glimpse of his back muscles when arranging the light fixtures to some odd angle because it made the room look "better" somehow. It was the crease between his brows as he thought, the way he snapped his fingers, the way he snapped his teeth—
And said blonde is crawling back up his body, putting those thoughts again to a stop. He probably has no idea the power he has.
So instead of answering—he couldn't, really, give an answer that he wouldn't deem embarrassing for someone like him—he cradles the back of Kaveh's head, pulls him up to a kiss, the warmth he had previously felt and the taste of himself in his mouth just enough of an encouragement to rolling them over and thumbing at the crease of his hip.] Tell me what you want.
no subject
And said blonde is crawling back up his body, putting those thoughts again to a stop. He probably has no idea the power he has.
So instead of answering—he couldn't, really, give an answer that he wouldn't deem embarrassing for someone like him—he cradles the back of Kaveh's head, pulls him up to a kiss, the warmth he had previously felt and the taste of himself in his mouth just enough of an encouragement to rolling them over and thumbing at the crease of his hip.] Tell me what you want.