linguaphilia | [Golden Peacock IC Inbox][un: scribe] (defunct)

I know, but...

[ But it's pointless. Despite his best efforts, he finds himself quickly dozing off, caving to the sleep so easily overtaking him as Alhaitham soothes him by stroking his hair, stays close and warm and comfortable, giving him all the love and affection he could ever want just by being her. He's happy, happier than he's known how to be in a long time, and it's the biggest drive toward him falling asleep after days of stress and anxiety.

Another yawn, and Kaveh falls asleep mid-complaint.

He wakes a few hours later, and technically he's still short on sleep, but he feels better rested than he has in at least weeks, eyes opening and head tilting so he can peer up at the other man with a lazy, contented smile. Usually it takes Kaveh a while to slip out of dreamland, but this time he wakes with memory intact and a smile on his lips. ]

Hi.

[While Kaveh sleeps, Alhaitham reads his book. It isn't as if he's never spent time in such a way when he had company... though never with said company cuddled up so closely against him.

He does doze for a little while somewhere in the middle - an hour or so, perhaps - but he's wide awake when Kaveh finally opens his eyes and looks up at him with that smile. Alhaitham returns his gaze and curls a lock of blond hair around his finger.]

Hey.

[ Kaveh's lazy smile only broadens when Alhaitham reaches to curl a lock of hair around his finger, his own hand lifting to curve fingers over the other's to hold it in place, then tilting his head slightly so he can press his lips against that pale skin. ]

How long have I been asleep?

[ And then, in a kind of soft, belated wonderment: ]

I can't believe I actually told you.

[ It's more than that, too. He can't believe Alhaitham answered him the way he dreamed; he can't believe they're lying together like this— ]

A few hours.

[Eventually they would have had to move, if only because Alhaitham would have grown uncomfortable with the position, but he finds the discomfort in the arm that Kaveh is leaning on to be fairly negligible for the moment.

Then he chuffs out a soft sound. It's almost a laugh, but not quite.]

I can't believe you told me, either. [He had expected a few more weeks of pining at least.] But... it is good that you did.

Mm, not bad.

[ He knows it's not enough in the long run— that more sleep is definitely necessary after a few days without. But at least for now, he feels good. Rested, content. It's a feeling that warms his chest, and it only does so all the more when Alhaitham makes that almost-laugh of a sound. ]

It is good.

[ He wants to kiss him, he thinks, and it's a pull strong enough to inspire him to sit up where part of him wants to stay snuggled in; so he shifts so that he's sitting up once more and presses his lips to the underside of Alhaitham's chin. ]

Are you at a good pausing point in your reading? [ he murmurs, and purses his lips into the skin once more. ]

[The response is instant. There is the faint shift of his gaze as he mentally notes the page number he's on and then the soft snap of the book being closed.]

Mhm.

[And the book, it seems, is all but entirely forgotten, set to one side as he shifts position and gently rolls Kaveh back against the sheets, leaning up over him and pushing one hand up into his hair. When their lips meet it's soft and sweet, patient, Alhaitham's head tilted just so and a moment given for the blond man to get past his surprise before Alhaitham softly, softly nips against his lower lip.]

I am.

[ Kaveh's response to being so suddenly upended into the sheets is a yelp, although it's very much a happy one, his arms immediately lifting to circle Alhaitham's shoulders, his eagerness all too evident in the way he pulls his close. And where the younger is soft and sweet and patient, the older is all nervous energy and excitement, his nose bumping up against the scribe's in almost the exact same moment that he pulls away. ]

Okay, [ he whispers. ] Good.

[ And he leans up to close that space between them, kissing him once more. Right now, all he can think about is spending the rest of the day just like this. He doesn't need anything else. ]

Mm.

[He can feel it - all that anxious energy buzzing through the other man's body as he leans into him. Well, he'll just have to distract him from all that anxiety, won't he? As it happens Alhaitham has no problem with staying here all day either.

The scribe fits his body against Kaveh's, cupping one side of his face with one hand while he props himself up with the other forearm. He breathes in soft and slow, taking the moments between kisses to inhale, subtly allowing Kaveh to lead them to exactly where he wants them to be.

Of course, he could have done this a while ago. He could have said something when he first realised, but he's quite sure that it would not have gone as well as it did with Kaveh bringing it up on his own.]

[ A contented sigh finds Kaveh's lips when Alhaitham shifts to fit their bodies together; in answer, one hand settles over the back of the younger man's neck, fingers pressing into the skin like some sort of anchor. And where his energy is hurried and anxious, the slow tickle of breath against his lips helps to steady his heartbeat; the pauses for breath between kisses offering grounding and stability.

Or— and there's an odd kind of clarity in his mind as he realizes it— maybe that's not the kisses at all, but just Alhaitham himself. Strong and stable and solid and sensible where Kaveh has always needed him to be.

And his mind goes all the way back to the night they first met again after their fight, the effortless grace with which the younger offered his home as a place for Kaveh to stay, the way Kaveh, who even then kept his secrets behind tightly locked lips, spilled everything to him within moments of being with him again.

Was it really because he didn't care?

He feels tears sting the corners of his eyes, but he ignores them, tugging the younger man in closer to him and letting himself settle into the headiness of those kisses. ]

[Honestly, what reason has he to be so nervous? Alhaitham muses on it but hardly needs to ask the question - when it comes to this kind of thing of course Kaveh would be nervous. He's probably already bracing for Alhaitham to suddenly decide that it was all a terrible mistake.

The scribe had always cared. Always in his distant, practical way. A way that Kaveh would have had difficulty seeing if it was right in front of his face with how he approaches everything so emotionally. He expects that it has suddenly become very clear, all of a sudden... Alhaitham had always cared about him. Of course he had. How could he not?]

Don't cry.

[He murmurs it softly, as far away from an admonishment as it could possibly be as the pad of his thumb presses gently against the corner of Kaveh's eye.]

What's bothering you?

[ Their kiss is broken for a thumb to be pressed against a stray tear, a gentle-soft murmur of assurance on Alhaitham's lips, and Kaveh sighs, head tilting into that touch even as he offers him a teary smile. ]

Nothing's bothering me, [ is his murmured reply, but even he recognizes that that's not entirely true, and after a moment he sighs again, his brows creasing just slightly. ] I'm just...

[ Kaveh bites his lip, thoughtful. How is he meant to describe it? ]

I feel like I've been blind this whole time... but not you. You've... always seen me, Alhaitham.

[ It's a statement more than a question, a belated understanding of the truth more than a search for confirmation. No matter what happened, Alhaitham was there to catch him, is still here even now, and...

He feels the fool. ]

Tch...

[>Foolish man. Ridiculous, so convinced of his own inferiority that he couldn't even conceive of getting this kind of attention from anyone, let alone from Alhaitham.

Gently, he bumps the tips of their noses together.]

You make yourself exceedingly difficult to ignore.

[He's said it all before. Kaveh is noisy and emotional, irritating, stubborn, but brilliant and bright and Alhaitham loves him in spite of that. Because of that. Of course, he knows what Kaveh means. He knows that it isn't that, but... he chides the man gently anyway, if only in an effort to make him laugh.]

I have always seen you. Even when you would have wanted nothing more than for me to do anything else.

[ But did Kaveh want anything else? He supposes he must have, he knows he did— and yet all of that seems so far away from them now, like a bad dream.

(And he knows he's being stupid, that he's caught up in the romanticism of the moment and mentally erasing the bad in favor of the good, but he doesn't really care.)

Besides, none of that matters right now when Alhaitham has succeeded in his goal, making Kaveh laugh— and then roll his eyes, hands bracing against the younger's chest as if to push him, when really all he wants to do is keep him close. ]

I know you're trying to say I'm loud, but I'm just going to take "difficult to ignore" as me being so devastatingly attractive that you can't take your eyes off me.

[ He finishes it with a brilliant smile, sly, as if daring Alhaitham to disagree. ]

[Alhaitham smiles slightly when Kaveh laughs. Mission accomplished, then, at least for the moment.]

Psh.

[How can he snap at him when the man is smiling at him like that? When he realises in that instant that having Kaveh smile at him just like that is all that he could have wanted? Alhaitham leans down and presses a soft, quick kiss to Kaveh's lips, with his own curving up slightly as he does.]

You may believe what you like.

[So... he's not denying it???]

[ He's not quite expecting that reaction. He's waiting for Alhaitham to reply with something just as facetious, if not more— instead, he's met with a soft kiss and a smile and something that isn't a denial, and Kaveh's heart skips a beat or two in his chest.

His hands lift again, cupping each of the younger man's cheeks, pulling him in for another soft, sweet kiss. ]

Then I'm going to believe exactly that. "Kshahrewar scholar found to be so attractive local Haravatat cannot physically stop looking"— how's that for a headline?

[ And he laughs, because he's being ridiculous and he knows it, but as the nervousness is pushed to the side, the giddiness is shining through instead: the relief and the joy that the other man wants to be with him, that his confession was met with acceptance and not all the things that he feared before. ]

You're never going to make it as a journalist.

[But Alhaitham is smiling, softly amused as he leans in for another kiss and lets it linger. His hands move again, sliding beneath Kaveh's shirt and then shifting to unfasten the buttons one at a time. He lets the fabric fall aside as his lips move lower, first pressing warmly into the curve of Kaveh's throat and along the sharp line of his collar bone, the centre of his chest...

He thumbs gently over a nipple, rubbing slowly back and forth over it to tease it up to a hard nub.]

Can I?

[Oh, he doesn't think he really needs permission to keep going... but he's going to ask anyway.

If only to hear the way Kaveh's voice sounds when he responds.]

Good thing that's not my plan.

[ The words are huffed out on a soft laugh into their kiss, and he's glad his eyes open when they part again because can see that smile on Alhaitham's lips, his stomach doing a funny little flip in response because Archons help him, it's not an expression he gets to see anywhere near enough, but it looks so good on him,

and he thinks about saying as much but he's quickly distracted by the movements of the younger's lips, the thumb rubbing over his nipple in a way that has his breath catching.

There's a request for permission, and Kaveh nods wordlessly for a moment, right before he remembers that Alhaitham is at his chest and may not be looking at his face. His hands lift again, coiling soft grasps into the other's hair, fingers skating along the scalp as he works to find his words.

(So unfocused from so little. He's a wreck right now.) ]

Mm. Of course you can— I'm yours, Alhaitham.

[He lets out a little chuff of air against Kaveh's chest as he works his lips across it, occasionally gently nipping to leave little marks. Each nipple gets the same treatment - first teased to hardness by the pad of his thumb before his lips and teeth close around it and he draws the stiff nub to aching hardness.

Alhaitham is clearly set on taking his time. Once he has Kaveh in a mess from those small gestures he keeps moving down, kissing his stomach, quickly working his trousers open and tugging them off along with his socks and shoes.

Then he just... looks, for a moment. His expression is almost unreadable, as ever, but there is something like quiet admiration there.

All this, just for him.]

Sit up, take off your shirt, and turn over.

[He gently taps Kaveh's hip to punctuate his request.]

Please.

[ A mess, perhaps, is an understatement. With Alhaitham taking his time to work over every little inch of him, Kaveh quickly finds himself breathless and whining; by the time the younger works open his trousers to remove them, he'll find that Kaveh is already hardening for him— not that it will likely be much of a surprise, given the soft sounds the other makes under his ministrations.

It's something Kaveh's not sure he could explain right now even if he wanted to, but something about it feels even better than normal, as if their shared confession charged the physicality in some impossible way.

Maybe he'll ask Alhaitham about it later, but right now his eyes are fixed on the look on his face, a hint of something he thinks he's rarely seen aimed in his direction. And then the other is speaking, and without even thinking Kaveh is following, sitting up to peel his shirt off before he turns over, settling back down with his chest against the mattress. ]

What are you doing?

[ There's no fear or concern in his words, just curiosity and wonderment. ]

Something I read about. I think you'll enjoy it.

[Because, well, in a place like this one you're going to come across a lot of books about sex whether you want to or not, and maybe he had spent a while longer reading a few of them than anyone might have expected of him.

He trails his fingertips down Kaveh's spine first, then closes both hands around his hips and gently hoists him up onto his knees. Lips press to the base of the architect's spine, fingertips denting into his skin, and then...

A firm grip slowly spreads him open, and Kaveh would feel something distinctly warm and wet against the puckered ring of his ass. Alhaitham makes a soft sound to himself, as if considering, and then repeats the action.

There's only so much he can do to control the shifting squirm of Kaveh's hips in those moments but he is persistent, dragging his tongue against the man's entrance another time or two before he is determinedly pressing it inside.

The noises he makes are soft but no less obscene for their volume. He tries to keep Kaveh steady, listening to his sounds and the twitches of his body.]

Something you—

[ Kaveh's answer takes a long time to find his lips in the first place, and is then abruptly aborted by the way Alhaitham's hands close around his hips so that the younger can lift him to his knees. For as much as the books in this place revolve so often around sex, even knowing the other like he does he wouldn't have immediately expected him to spend a lot of time reading any of them... It would seem, then, that he has a few more things to learn about his—

Mm. What does this make them? They've agreed to be with each other. Are they boyfriends? He'll need to ask.

Later, though, because lips are pressing against the base of his spine, and Alhaitham's hands are spreading him, and— ]

Oh.

[ The sound emerges as little more than a squeak, a sound followed by another almost exactly the same as the scribe repeats his action, his hips shifting even under that hold as he gasps out at the sensations. He tries to keep himself still, but he can't, just as he can't control the variety of soft sounds that find him for every movement of Alhaitham's tongue. ]

Mn. Alhaitham, that— oh, fuck—

[ He cuts off his wandering thoughts with a soft curse as the other's tongue pushes into him, making him jolt and shudder. ]

[The scribe doesn't pause to ask if it's good. He can feel and hear that it is, and he only adjusts the position of his hands to spread the older man as much as he can as he presses into him.

Kaveh is clean and the taste is... strange, but not unpleasant. Not distracting at least as Alhaitham laps at him between deep thrusts of his tongue.

The intimacy of it has its effects on him too. He has to briefly pause to loosen his own trousers, though it only gives Kaveh a few moments to breathe before he's back at it again.]

[ Kaveh can't quite help the way his fingers tangle in Alhaitham's hair, hips stuttering and trembling under every movement the other makes with his tongue. He can't help the soft, wanton sounds that form on his lips with each thrust, the sensation similar in some ways and yet so different to anything they've done before— anything Kaveh has experienced, ever.

And the moment's pause may be met with a whine, a brief wonderment as to what the other is doing, but in truth there's a part of him grateful for it, because the whole thing is so overwhelming that breath comes harder than normal. ]

H-Haitham—

Ssh-ssh. Just enjoy yourself.

[He nips against Kaveh's ass before the warm thickness of his tongue is pressing at him again, pushing in, flicking against his insides. It does seem like he has done more than briefly read about this somewhere.

Enough to know that his tongue alone wouldn't be able to bring the fullest level of satisfaction.

He nudges Kaveh's knees until they slide apart with his ass still raised, leaving him fully on display for the younger man with his chest pressed into the sheets and the head of his cock sliding against fabric. A quiet sound of satisfaction leaves Alhaitham as his tongue pushes in again, but this time joined by the careful press of one slender finger.]

[ Just enjoy yourself, Alhaitham says, punctuating the words with a nip against an ass cheek right before he continues, and Kaveh's next sound comes muffled as his face falls into the pillow, inhaling and exhaling against mouthfuls of fabric. Archons, like this how can he do anything but? He's helpless in the best of ways under the other's ministrations, every soft sound Alhaitham makes only bringing him to further heights; every touch and sensation riling him up more. It's all he can do not to roll his hips helplessly into the mattress.

And then it gets—

Better? Worse?

His head lifts from the pillow again, another gasp on his lips, fingers falling from the pathetic attempt at a grip on the other, to the mattress and curling into the sheets into, something to hold as a single finger slides into him, working alongside such wicked movements of the younger's tongue.

Despite his best efforts, his hips arch and writhe as he gasps. ]

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