[There are no words in any language that truly encompass what he's feeling. There are innumerous ways he could describe his heartrate, his breathing, the heat he feels on the highs of his cheek, the way he tightens his arms around his roommate when he feels the moisture of his breath brush against his scalp. Alhaitham can't give meaning to the thrum inside him, to the bloom of his mouth against the pulse on Kaveh's neck, feeling that heartbeat feed into the rush of his Alhaitham's bloodstream.
So he doesn't. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't because he knows what it all means, has known for so long.
Alhaitham only draws back just enough so he can kiss Kaveh again. And it's nothing special, really. It's a mere purse of his lips where he captures the architect's lower one between them, breathes deep and shivers with his eyes half fluttered open and heavy. The meaning is there, in the mingle of their breaths, in the curl of his fingers as he brushes the back of his knuckles on Kaveh's cheek.]
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So he doesn't. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't because he knows what it all means, has known for so long.
Alhaitham only draws back just enough so he can kiss Kaveh again. And it's nothing special, really. It's a mere purse of his lips where he captures the architect's lower one between them, breathes deep and shivers with his eyes half fluttered open and heavy. The meaning is there, in the mingle of their breaths, in the curl of his fingers as he brushes the back of his knuckles on Kaveh's cheek.]