indigently | 𝒪𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉 🏛️

[ Kaveh's eyelids flutter, a breath of frustration of his lips as Alhaitham's fingers move over his neck, his collarbones, his shoulders, his chest. Of all the willful, frustrating— ]

Fine. You want me to be accurate with my words? Don't be so fucking difficult— [ The last word, ground between his teeth, turns into something of a moan as he cants his hips up against the other, rutting into whatever part of his leg he can reach. ] Come on, Alhaitham—

[ He's horny to the point of frustrated, and yet somehow still unwilling to speak to his own desires, although at this point it's hard to say (even for himself) if he's being stubborn or shy. More likely, it's a little of both— a fact perhaps a little ironic considering where his mouth has just been. ]

Please.

[It all goes against his own rationality, how he leans in to kiss that 'please' away, as though it slips into Alhaitham's own palate, becomes part of him. He runs his tongue over his lower lip after nipping at it, aiming to soothe the hurt. A please as earnest as that isn't supposed to be said three times, but he feels like hearing a lot more of it now.]

I see. [He curls his fingers on Kaveh's hips, kneading none too gently, and then doing the same to the round of his behind as he rolls against his leg. He should be appointed Grand Sage just from how much mindfulness he's applying in a moment like this, when the Architect is underneath him so vividly wanting and needful. It would be, for sure, a lot more than any self-control Azar had ever shown.

Not that he wants to think about him right now. Instead, he gives Kaveh's cheek an experimental squeeze.] Is this it?

[Oh, how stubborn can he be...]

[ Kaveh's eyes roll back, lids fluttering, when his plea is answered not with what they both know he wants, but with Alhaitham's fingers curling on his hips and then his backside, as teeth and tongue bully and soothe his lower lip in turn. The sound he makes is somewhere between a whine and a groan, hips rocking up against his leg again, his hands coming to the other's chest to press, to scratch his demands (gently) into the skin. ]

Depends, [ he mutters darkly before he can stop himself, the sarcasm all too evident in his voice. ] How quick is your refractory period?

[ But even heady with alcohol, Kaveh knows that's a lot to ask. And so, stubborn to the end, he reaches for Alhaitham's wrist, pulling it between them, lowering it nearer to his aching arousal— all without a word. Then, a kiss to the other's sharp jaw. ]

Is that clear enough for you?

[Nails. There's something he hadn't considered before, in the quick instance between imagining these actions as a possibility and the actuality of doing them. It's his shock at the unexpected laced with the grate on his skin, leaving gentle pink stripes and curves where Kaveh's fingers dig into. Adding that to the way he sounds and he's almost losing his mind—]

Take a look for yourself. [Instead of snapping back with something equally clever, Alhaitham's lip twitches, still delighted to keep their back and forth even when their breathing is growing labored, Alhaitham's mouth running dry, and he points out at the obvious. This, he had expected, anticipated. His head tilts, grey hair canting side to reveal his left eye.] Yes, I am aware you have an erection. What do you want me to do about it?

Edited 2023-09-26 19:55 (UTC)

[ Alhaitham's response is met with a long, frustrated groan, Kaveh's frustration echoed in the way his hips rock up, seeking something the other is clearly intent on keeping from him for now. It's enough that it takes him several moments to process what the scribe actually said in the moments before that, answering a question that the blonde had only asked out of frustration. But when he does, he releases Alhaitham's wrist to reach for him instead.

Finding the other hard again demolishes any willpower Kaveh had left to keep fighting him. With another groan, he reaches up with both hands, cupping Alhaitham's face as he kisses him hard, an almost bruising pressure as he crushes their lips together. ]

Fuck me. [ It's breathed against the other's mouth, a tremble in his voice. ] Or— or let me fuck you, if it's what you prefer. I just... I want you. I wanna be with you. Please.

[At that, Alhaitham freezes. It's perhaps only a second. Half of it, even. Maybe even less so. The Scribe stops in his tracks, his nostrils flaring for that tiny instance—

—and his arms instead come to wrap tightly around Kaveh's middle and torso, his face burrowing against the architect's neck. Maybe Kaveh will be able to see a shade darker on a patch of Alhaitham's neck, the back of his ears. He only takes a deep, lung-rattling breath, as he squeezes the man in his arms like he's never before.

(Maybe, just maybe, he's done something similar when the darkest waves of grief hit one of them back then...)]

In a moment. I will. Just. One minute.

[ Kaveh feels rather than sees the way Alhaitham freezes, and for the barest of moments assumes that he's said the wrong thing— it would hardly be the first time, after all— but then arms wrap tightly around his middle, the other man's face pressing into his neck, and the blonde bites back a soft gasp. ]

Haitham—?

[ His fingers lift, running through the scribe's hair and over his neck, feeling the heat in his skin as well as he can see it, and a fond smile comes to his lips, answering the embrace with a press of his mouth against the top of Alhaitham's head.

The last time they were this close—

Mm, he doesn't want to think about it. ]

Of course. [ It's a murmur, his voice sweet with affection. ] Take as long as you need, okay? I'm here.

[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.]

[ His sigh is one of content as their lips touch, a tenderly sweet kiss that lingers between them as Alhaitham's knuckles brush against his cheek, as Kaveh's fingers reach up to catch that hand in his. Despite the fact that just a moment ago, he was whining and rutting in desperation, that his erection is still straining flushed and aching against his stomach, he's not thinking about how much he needs right now— his mind is focused on the sudden softness about the other man.

And where anyone else at all might be confused by the sudden change, Kaveh just smiles. ]

I love you too, [ he murmurs, another sweetly soft kiss against Alhaitham's mouth, a squeeze of his fingers around the other's hand. Unlike the scribe, the architect needs the words, needs to have them in the space between their lips, sweet with promise. ] I'm sorry it took me so long to say it.

[ He sighs again, offering a brush of his tongue over Alhaitham's lower lip, a pleased hum on his own. ]

[Alhaitham's mouth unfurls around Kaveh's tongue, suckles on it teasingly.

It's only for a second, though, his open eyes fluttering closed when he deepens the kiss, all of his thoughts gone, instead remain all he feels, wanting to make them as tangible, palpable as possible.

Kaveh may need them, and he promises to tell them, somehow, perhaps in another instance where it's all he can whisper into his ear, delirious by their shared warmth and their bodies no longer suffering from the pangs of the hunger for each other. Alhaitham's fingers skim over a hip and hook Kaveh's thigh around his waist, pressing close into the cradle of his hips. The motion brings them closer, closer still, and their lengths press against each other and he groans deeply into Kaveh's mouth.

He hates that he has to pull back.] Do you have—?

[Stuff. Things. Whatever you use to prepare yourself with, is what he means.]

[ Of course, when Kaveh hears the words from Alhaitham, he'll be overjoyed— but where he knows he needs to say them aloud himself, at least for now he's okay with the fact that the other hasn't. He knows Alhaitham, knows that despite his love of words, he's not as quick to use them as others might be, waiting for the place and time he deems worthy of them.

And besides: the poetry, the kisses, the return of the question before— in his own way, the other has already told him, hasn't he?

So he's utterly content as he leans into the kiss, heart pounding in his chest, arms lifting to circle the other's shoulders, a movement he's forced to undo in the next moment when Alhaitham pulls back from him just as they're brought together in a way that makes Kaveh curse meaningfully against the sound groaned into his mouth.

Does he have—

It takes his brain a moment or two to unfog enough that he can process the words. ] Yeah. [ He hates that he has to pull back even further, putting space between them as he shifts across the bed to open a drawer in his sidetable and resurfacing in the next moment with a vial of an oil flavored with the barest touch of vanilla.

He turns, looking back at Alhaitham. ]

Can you? [ he asks, the sweetness in his voice an odd contrast to the arousal swollen and flushed against his abdomen. ] Or do you need me to?

[Now, that he's crawling over and away from him, tan lines from those loose clothes Kaveh likes to wear displayed before him, and Alhaitham understands why his roommate had decided to kiss at his stomach when he struggled with his shirt.

He leans in, pressing kisses and nips along each dent of his spine, up until Kaveh moves back and he manoeuvers them, a man on a mission and mouthing at that silly v-shape over the wing of Kaveh's shoulderblade. Wrapped arm around his waist, another underneath Kaveh's head, making sure the architect is well-pressed with his back against Alhaitham's chest, the Scribe nuzzles his hair away as he shows his hand in front of him, his mouth settling behind his ear.] Guide me.

[ Ah— and now it's Kaveh's turn to be caught off-guard. The gasp on his lips very much echoes the one Alhaitham made earlier, a flush of color warming his cheeks as the other's ministrations very nearly distract him from the task at hand. But he's successful in the end, rewarded in the way he's tugged back against the other man, lips at his ear and the scribe's arousal pressing up against the cleft of his ass. It's enough to make him whine out even as he nods, presses the vial into the other's fingers, shifts his hips and legs just enough that Alhaitham will have the access he needs. ]

Put it on your fingers. [ His voice is breathy, words strained with his need. ] Lots of it— if you think it's enough, it's probably not. And then you're gonna stretch me open.

[ His mouth feels dry. Gods, it's all he can do not to writhe in anticipation. The thought of Alhaitham pressing those fingers into him, agonizingly slow— ]

You can start with two. [ Responsible? No. Answering his desire? Also no, but closer to yes than it would be if he told Alhaitham to start with one. ] I can take it.

[Difficult, to not rush through all of this when Kaveh says that he wants him to stretch him open, with two fingers because he can take it. What really balances out and reels Alhaitham back is the way Kaveh says it, nervous and expectant alike, his breath hitching when he rolls his hips just an increment tighter, how warm he feels against him. He could sleep like this. He wants to sleep like this. Maybe they will. ]

[He mouths along the shell of his ear while opening the vial and letting the oil ooze down his fingers.] Tsh, it's gotten everywhere, [he mutters as he stretches the arm under Kaveh's head to place the container on the bedside, rubs the slick substance along the length of his middle and forefinger with his thumb.] It'll be a problem if we have to use all of it.

[He shifts behind Kaveh, his dry hand coming to curl over the top of his hairline, bringing his head back, his neck to arch, maneuvering it just enough so he can lap at the length of his lips.

He's always been a ridiculously quick study.] I thought you said we had time. [He says as he circles the pad of his fingers along the brim of his ass.] What made you change your mind, Senior?

It's fine. [ His answer is quick, dismissive; he's much more interested in the slide of the oil down Alhaitham's fingers, the way he pulls Kaveh's head back so his tongue can tease over his lips. ] I can clean it up later.

[ The negative part of his head being moved in such a way though means that he can't see what the other is doing, is taken off-guard by the fingers circling over him in a way that makes him whine, jolt his hips. Kaveh's hands are hovering in empty space, the architect left momentarily unsure of what to do; in the end, one helps to brace him against Alhaitham's thigh, the other tangling in silver hair to tug him in closer.

To the question, his lips tremble, his eyelids flutter; a fresh wash of pink colors his cheeks as he whimpers.

What a fucking tease. ]

I haven't— haven't changed my mind. I just... mm— [ he interrupts himself with a nip at that teasing tongue, a sigh of pleasure on his lips. ] We still have time, but we can use that time later. Right now, I want you.

[ A soft laugh, a firmer press of his lips. ]

I've wanted you for years.

You have me. [He whispers against another kiss, meant to soothe, to calm. He's had him for years.

But there have been numerous times Kaveh has complained about Alhaitham's inability to appreciate art, to be patient and admire it, to let it 'seep in' and 'let it speak to him'.

And now Kaveh writhes against him in an arch, warm and inviting and so alive against his fingertips, coiling and releasing and his eyelashes dark against the flush of his cheeks, darkening further the carmine of his eyes.

He finally wants to watch this man unravel over and over and study each stretch of his muscles, each slope of his bones against the skin. Wants to see how warm his breath goes, how moist it would feel against his own skin if it stutters when he touches him like so.

Alhaitham finally understands.

He dips his head to his neck, letting his teeth rake over the skin of the curve but not letting it snag yet. He presses one—just one—finger at the entrance, and nips at his earlobe before he nuzzles it.] Move for me, then. I want to feel you doing it.

[ Realistically, Kaveh doesn't really need the soothing. The words may come normally with a certain degree of sadness and frustration, but at least for now he's okay— he's in Alhaitham's arms, those words whispered into his lips and those fingers soothing over his flushed skin even as that on the other hand presses slow into him, making him hiss his pleasure.

(And maybe a little bit of frustration.) ]

Alhaitham, I said— mm, you can—

[ But the other man is talking, nipping at his earlobe and encouraging him to move against that singular searching finger, and this time the sound he makes is more of a whine. It seems the other is determined to hold him in some small way to the promise he made earlier: that of time. He writhes in place once more, and his fingers curl around the younger's free wrist, another hiss on his lips. ]

You are such a jerk. [ It's said without any real venom though, and despite the complaint his hips begin to move, pushing himself against the other's finger. ] Making me do all the work— nn. [ A lift, another fall, and Kaveh sighs. ]

[Eyes darkened, breath heavy, Alhaitham buries his mouth against Kaveh's neck, just underneath his jaw, tipping his head further back, tasting the sweat pooling there. He's delectable like this, moving to find his pleasure and using Alhaitham's hand to do it. The Scribe almost smiles when he shushes him softly, mouthing at his cheek, searching for his mouth.] Careful, you don't want Tighnari to hear you, do you?

[ Gods. Even as another sound trips out of Kaveh's lips, he recognizes the truth in Alhaitham's words: Tighnari's ears are sharp, and if he lets himself make too much noise—

(Hah. How ironic, that this all started because of Tighnari, and now he needs to keep himself quiet because of Tighnari.)

—Honestly, part of him wants to say fuck it, to allow himself be as loud as he feels, to give their friends a taste of their own medicine. But also— ]

Damnit. [ At least for now, he wants this to be something just for them. So he turns his head, presses his lips to Alhaitham's again, allowing the other's mouth to swallow the sounds he makes as his hips move down against that finger again, this time with more speed than before. ] Need more—

[With a sigh, he kisses those sounds into his own mouth, and it feels like it feeds directly into his bloodstream. He complies carefully, making another finger join the one already inside Kaveh, and he strokes away his hair, wraps his arm around him so he's still pressed close to him despite the motion of his body.] Better?

Mm.

[ It's not much of an answer, but it's all Kaveh can really manage when he's distracted by the feeling of that second finger pushing into him— unless Alhaitham wants him to lose his composure completely, anyway. As it is, it's difficult for him to focus on much else but the sensation of pleasure as he fucks himself down on those fingers, allowing them to stretch him; the sensation of that arm wrapped gently around him to hold him close even as he moves.

But the sound, at least, is one of approval. It's still not quite what he wants— but it's so much better than what he had.

His teeth nip at Alhaitham's lip, another sound whispered between their mouths— and then moaned as his hips shift at just the right angle that he sees stars for a moment or two. ]

[Pressed tight against him, nipping like a newly-fanged kitten on his lips, Alhaitham's chest feels warm at the feel of Kaveh, at the pretty tone of his skin when flushed through, rather than the superficial heat of a bottle of wine too much; at the shadows cast by his long eyelashes, dark against the jewel red of his eyes. There's something to be said about the way he moves in and out of his fingers, and he can almost smell ocean salt in his hair as though he had just raised himself from the seawater and moving like the back and forth of the waves on the warm coast.

Kaveh alights himself with a new angle and Alhaitham is quick enough, still not taken into the riptide of their passion to hold Kaveh in place, his arm holding him still like a beam latched across the architect's body.] Here? [He whispers, finally moving his fingers with the same angle over and over.]

[ Alhaitham starts to move his fingers, and it's both the best and worst thing that could possibly happen to Kaveh. The blonde gasps, the motion of his hips stuttering for a moment as the pleasure floods recurrent through his veins, and for a moment, drunk on the sensation, he chases it, a quickening to his movements against the other until a sobering flash of reason brings him to a sudden halt, lips torn from the other man's as he whines out a soft protest. ]

Don't, Alhaitham don't— if you keep that up I won't last—

[ And then he'll be out of commission for several minutes at least, and for as much as they may have time, Kaveh is impatient. He's waited for so long already, after all. ]

[He shushes him, and it's soft, with how he looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes, his lips curling just an increment. Kaveh delivering himself to the feeling for that second was all worth breaking the arrangement they had. How long has it been since he lost control like that?

Perhaps a little mindlessness wouldn't hurt.]

I'm not going anywhere. [He sinks his teeth on his shoulder, keeping the motion of his hand predictable but unrelenting.]

No—

[ Kaveh knows the protest will be useless even as it surfaces on his lips; it's half-hearted anyway, evidenced by the way his hips start to move again in the next moment, resistance shattered as he caves to the unrelenting, constant movement of the other's fingers. He gives himself over to it, one hand fisting into the sheets in an attempt to keep himself steady, the other coiling into Alhaitham's hair as the scribe bites into his shoulder. ]

Alhaitham— I want—

[ Despite the earlier warning, Kaveh's words are no longer soft, no longer muffled between their mouths; it stays that way as he cries out, the blonde trembling as his movements stutter into a sudden, overwhelming orgasm. ]

Nngh...

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