indigently | 𝒪𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉 🏛️

[ 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...

[Behind Kaveh, Alhaitham shudders with a sigh, pressing the flat of his tongue on the dampness on the back of the architect's neck, nuzzling his hair aside and pressing kisses to it, the hand on his forehead skating down to clamp over his mouth. Kaveh's clenching around his fingers and he lets them stay inside, unmoving for a while, carefully listening to the way he breathes in and out through his climax.

He removes his hand, tilts Kaveh's head towards his own as he removes his fingers and scoots a bit higher so he can kiss him properly. It feels like the poetry he uttered not long ago.]

Stay here. [He whispers, and pads over to the bathroom of the room to wash his hands and put on some pants.

He throws a blanket over Kaveh before he opens the door of the room and gets out.

To find Tighnari's eyes wide and ears perked, the furniture unscathed (thankfully) and Cyno looking like he's dazed. Thankfully, Tighnari says nothing, but when they do say their goodbyes Alhaitham nods when he starts "Did you—?" and promises to talk later.

The Ranger smiles and tugs the Mahamatra with him, and Alhaitham closes the front door, and locks it before coming back into the room.]

[ He's still sinking down from the high (and oh, there's something hot about Alhaitham's hand clamping over his mouth like that as he cries out) when the other man moves to kiss him— and then to pull himself free and stand from the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. To Kaveh's consternation and confusion both, he comes back with pants on, throws a blanket over the blonde, and leaves the room—

and leaves Kaveh, too, sitting bolt-upright in the bed with his afterglow having been shattered in the face of what feels to him like rejection.

(Logic tells him it's not, can't be after what they've just experienced together, but the emotional side of him—)

By the time Alhaitham gets back, he's still sitting, clutching the blanket to him; when he speaks, his voice is laced with hurt and frustration: ]

What's wrong with you? You don't just walk out on someone like that!!

[The moment he does step into the room he realizes he's messed up.

Alhaitham didn't think much of it. There was something that kept limiting their focus on each other, hindered the delivery of themselves to the moment. He wanted Kaveh to wake up without remorse or shame (or a voice) the next day, and selfishly, went out of the room to eliminate all the factors that would potentially cause that.

He should have known the action was not without consequence for Kaveh's mind. He's heard the tone plenty of times, often from situations not unlike this one where Alhaitham feels like he's done a good thing.

He's learned the hard way that there's nothing he can do to control how people react to things, only how he receives and adapts to that reaction himself. Living with Kaveh has been a series of trials and errors, and Alhaitham realized that he understands most people now because of him, of his emotions and irrational reactions. As analytical as he could be, however, he soon understood that he felt for the man, that his own self reacted to Kaveh's own responses. And it pulled him apart.

He leaves the door of the room behind him open, padding his bare feet towards the bed and sitting on it, legs at the side of the mattress. Makes to tuck a strand of Kaveh's hair behind his ear.] I was making sure we'd be alone for the rest of the night.

Edited 2023-10-19 20:49 (UTC)

[ Kaveh's hand lifts lightning-fast to that moving to tuck hair behind his ear, and for a moment he intends whole-heartedly to shove it away. But the other man's gentle action makes him falter, and that hand ends up hovering pointlessly as he blinks, a slow curtaining fall of his eyelashes over the tops of his cheeks, comprehension dawning slowly in the red of his eyes, chasing the consternation and confusion away from his expression. ]

Tighnari and Cyno— you sent them home?

[ He'll be ashamed later of how tentative the fall of his fingers to Alhaitham's wrist is, but once they're there, they slip naturally over the skin to find space between the younger man's fingers in turn, linking them together. He understands the meaning between the words the other speaks, and it leaves his feelings all the more confused— he's still recovering from the sudden abandonment, he wants to be mad—

but he is grateful.

Kaveh turns his head, presses his mouth into the pulse point of that captured wrist, and his eyes close, a sigh on his lips. ]

...Don't do that to me again, okay? Please. At least tell me where you're going. I thought—

[ What he thought was stupid. He knows that. But it didn't stop it from feeling real. ]

Mhm, [If it's to reply to Kaveh's question or to acquiesce to his request, Alhaitham merely hums an affirmation and quietly looks at where his lips meet his wrist, and he thinks he can feel his heartbeat in his breath.

A silly thought, but one that perhaps made some sense with how Kaveh carries his emotion in his voice.

His other hand raises to cradle his face, and Alhaitham finds himself skating his thumb over the velvet of his cheeks. The first time he can do that after so long wishing for it.] I should have told you. You didn't know how I'd react and it looked like I was leaving. It's alright to be upset.

Edited 2023-10-20 23:42 (UTC)

[ Kaveh's brows lift in surprise at Alhaitham's words, and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, because— because—

Archons preserve him, did Alhaitham actually acknowledge a feeling of Kaveh's as something that makes sense?

He sniffles, and reaches up a hand to swipe at his own eyes, laughing lightly at himself. Okay, so this is ridiculous, maybe. ]

I'm not really upset. [ A sigh, and he turns his head to press kisses against Alhaitham's jaw instead, trailing up along the skin. ] I was just— it caught me off-guard. I thought you were leaving, but you came back, so—

[Alhaitham shifts, pulls Kaveh with him until he's resting his back on the headboard of the bed and the architect is leaning against his shoulder. Until his head is tucked in against his own.

He presses a kiss to the crown of his head, holding him close.] As much as I like watching you scramble for words, you don't have to explain.

[ He keeps talking as Alhaitham draws them both further up the bed and settles against the headboard, prepared to explain himself as many times as it takes; but the other pulls him close and presses a kiss to his crown, soothes and teases him in the same breath, and Kaveh scowls even as his heart whispers its relief. ]

You are such a jerk. [ The words are muttered even as Kaveh's head turns upward, the soft smile on his lips showing that he doesn't mean it as much as he might sound like he does. ] Saying things like that... you're lucky I like you so much.

[Alhaitham smiles, more in his eyes than in the curl of his mouth, as he leans to rest his forehead against Kaveh. He sighs, finding some sort of tranquillity with Kaveh so close, even if he pouts and complains.

He pinches at his ear playfully.] You're right. [He is lucky, he is so lucky. There was an odd that had occurred in this timeline, in this world, and Kaveh and Alhaitham got together and ripped themselves apart, only to conjoin under the same roof.]

[ Kaveh's brows lift, a for a moment he stares at him in silence as the other pinches his ear, looks at him with those smiling eyes. Quite frankly, he feels as if he's in a parallel universe or something, all of a sudden, because— ]

Did you seriously just agree with me twice in under a minute? [ he demands, and he's not angry, but there's disbelief etched into every word even as he smiles up at him. ] Are you unwell, Alhaitham?

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