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Alhaitham has a problem.
It is early in the morning—perhaps too early, if you were to ask him—and here he is, lying in bed and watching a certain blonde architect sleep beside him. The older man’s face is fully relaxed as he snoozes, with his lips parted just so. This is a view only reserved for Alhaitham, and he certainly revels in it, admiring him with a soft smile as he takes in each small detail that he can before Kaveh awakens.
If one were to look at this scenario from an outsider’s point of view, they would likely conclude that this is just a pleasant and calm morning for the scribe. They couldn’t be more wrong.
As Alhaitham rakes his eyes over the bruised marks that litter Kaveh’s skin, he feels a much more pressing matter rear its head, a faint but familiar ache pulsing between his legs. This is the problem: this persistent desire, something that he had not truly experienced until he became Kaveh’s partner. In fact, before then, he had little to no interest in sex at all. He knew what it was and what purpose it served, but he did not engage with it himself beyond solo stress relief. However, now that Kaveh is in the picture, he feels like something akin to a horny teenager.
It doesn’t matter what Kaveh is doing; anything can trigger it. Whether he’s cooking in the kitchen, pulling his hair into a bun, or having his classic arguments with Alhaitham, the scribe has found himself irrationally aroused at any given moment. Kaveh never seems to mind—in fact, he always seems quite eager to please when the urge arises—but Alhaitham still feels a twinge of irritation at his body’s responses.
This especially becomes an issue when he is working at the Akademiya, or archons forbid, in a meeting with other people who could possibly witness his perversion. (And, of course, his erections always manage to appear at the most inconvenient of times.)
A sigh escapes him as the throbbing in his briefs edges him further into insanity, forcing him to suffer silently as best as he can without alerting his partner. Technically, Alhaitham knows that the most logical decision would be to go into the bathroom and rub one out. It wouldn’t have to be a massive ordeal and Kaveh would likely never know, but for some unknown reason, he can’t seem to find the will to leave his side, entirely fascinated by the way the morning light catches on the architect’s cheekbone, his long eyelashes forming shadows on the tanned skin.
“Even in the mornings, you manage to appear more beautiful than everyone else in Sumeru,” he mutters under his breath, dragging his thumb lightly over that freckled cheek that he’s become so fixated on.
This small contact is apparently enough for the older man to shift slightly, roused from his slumber. Alhaitham inhales sharply upon hearing a hum come from Kaveh. The blonde straightens a leg that had been wrapped around Alhaitham’s body before mumbling, “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“How long have you been awake?” Alhaitham quirks a brow at Kaveh’s sleep-filled voice. The man in question stretches slightly, arms reaching over his head before letting out a loud yawn.
“Not long. I’m barely awake, honestly.” Opening one eye after another, Kaveh finally reveals his crimson gaze which singlehandedly manages to send a rush of molten heat down to Alhaitham’s erection, the front of his briefs becoming embarrassingly damp. The scribe instinctually bucks his hips to provide some much-needed friction, and he ends up grinding against the warmth of Kaveh’s thigh, something that the other doesn’t fail to catch. He scoffs in disbelief at Alhaitham’s unsubtle display of depravity, leaning over to brush his lips against the scribe’s, “I just woke up and you already want to fuck me? Did I not satisfy you enough last night?”
Alhaitham doesn’t falter at the comment, merely taking the opportunity to kiss the sensitive skin next to Kaveh’s ear. He enjoys the way his partner shudders ever so slightly at the contact before whispering, “You always satisfy me. I just can’t resist the sight of your bedhead in the morning.”
This makes Kaveh let out a deep huff, “As if my hair is any worse than yours! You should be careful insulting the person you want to stick your dick into.”
“What are you going to do, bite it off?”
“Mmm… don’t tempt me,” Kaveh purrs, giggling when Alhaitham continues to press soft kisses into his neck and jaw. All the while, the scribe pushes his hips against his lover, a slight pleasure sparking through his body, even with the thin barrier between them. The friction makes him groan softly, the sound echoing directly into Kaveh’s ear, something that doesn’t fail to make the older man ache with arousal as well.
Kaveh shifts slowly but surely to straddle one of Alhaitham’s legs, exposing his bare body with lines of bruises trailing all the way down to his perfect milky thighs. As perfectly picturesque as he looks in the moment, Alhaitham can’t help but notice the way Kaveh’s hair sticks up like a lion’s mane, which makes him smile smugly. His hair is far worse than his own, and he knows it. (Of course, he won’t say such a thing, otherwise he may really have to jerk off instead of the much more favorable option.)
The older man begins to grind down on Alhaitham’s leg, his wet folds leaving a line of slick. Letting out a soft moan at the friction against his clit, he sighs, “It makes me wonder what you were thinking about to get so worked up.”
“You,” Alhaitham responds immediately, placing his hands on Kaveh’s waist and matching his rhythm so his clothed cock ruts against the other’s thigh. “All I have to do is look at you and I get like this. I blame you.”
“Hah—fuck…” Kaveh whimpers as a rose-colored flush covers the perfect skin of his shoulders. They move like this for a few seconds, languid and indulgent, hot breaths escaping both men as jolts of pleasure continue to spur them on more and more. But Alhaitham frowns. It’s not enough. He needs more. He needs much more, and he can get it right now. The blonde is suddenly being pushed onto his back as plush sheets surround him. When Alhaitham leans over him, Kaveh teases, “So eager, Haitham. You ought to have some more shame.”
“Can you truly blame me? You’re breathtaking even when you sleep. What’s a man to do?” Alhaitham presses his lips into faded scars that adorn Kaveh’s chest, letting his tongue tease a sensitive nipple. Kaveh gasps at the contact, but even amid the throbbing between his legs, he doesn’t back down.
With a smirk, he defiantly suggests, “Hm… my theory is that you’re just a horny man.”
“And you’re not?” the scribe counters, running his fingers through Kaveh’s sensitive folds before pulling them away to observe how they glisten with evidence of his arousal. “Just look at how wet you are for me, habibi.”
Kaveh doesn’t respond, instead taking hold of Alhaitham’s hand and placing it back between his legs. The latter considers making a snide comment that he is evidently not the most eager, but his tongue goes slack when Kaveh releases a choked moan, languidly bucking his hips as those long fingers rub his clit. The blonde’s head falls onto the sheets, basking in the sensation of Alhaitham touching him, pleasure running through his veins in the most intoxicating way.
The heat rises in the room almost immediately as small sounds continue to tumble from Kaveh’s lips, and Alhaitham takes it in with rapt attention, his own hardness twitching with interest. He circles his hand even faster, making the architect’s thighs tremble with need. Kaveh groans, “Haitham… fuck me already.”
“What an unfortunate lack of manners. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to ask nicely?” Alhaitham teases as he drags his fingers through those folds. They catch onto his dripping entrance, but of course, the scribe being the sadistic prick that he is (according to Kaveh, that is), he doesn’t bother to push inside. He gathers more of his wetness onto his hand before returning it to Kaveh’s sensitive bundle of nerves.
For a moment, Kaveh genuinely considers begging. While it may wound his pride for a moment, wouldn’t it be worth it to get some relief?
…No. It’s not worth it. Why should Alhaitham get to win every time?
“Please, you’re the one who was grinding up against me. You woke up all hot and bothered. Honestly, you should be convincing me to let you fuck me, not the other way around. Go on. I’m listening,” Kaveh facetiously cups his hand around his ear and the friction against his clit halts immediately.
When his senior turns to object, Alhaitham captures his lips with his own, grinding his neglected cock against Kaveh’s sex. Before the kiss can become too heated, before Kaveh can truly melt into Alhaitham’s mouth, the scribe pulls away, shifting his attacks to Kaveh’s neck as he licks over those marks that caused this whole incident in the first place. He grazes his teeth over Kaveh’s heated skin, earning him a breathy whine.
“I swear to our archon,” Kaveh grunts as they continue to press against each other, “You are the most insatiable man I’ve ever known. If you’re going to fuck me, at least have the courtesy of preparing me first.”
“You talk too much,” Alhaitham finally responds, letting his gaze finally latch onto Kaveh’s. The architect notes how a twinge of red paints his junior’s cheeks, and he can’t help but feel a kind of smug satisfaction in knowing that he has reduced a stubborn and prideful man to this desperate creature that ruts against him like a horny animal. He opens his mouth to speak, but only a gasp escapes him as he is rudely interrupted by Alhaitham inserting two thick fingers inside of him.
The intrusion is enough for Kaveh’s back to arch off the bed, hips bucking to grind against it. He holds the sheets like a lifeline and Alhaitham doesn’t miss the way his knuckles turn white. He smirks, “Feels good?”
“So good. Don’t stop,” Kaveh moans shallowly. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, and all from just a pair of fingers that probe against his tender walls. Alhaitham thrusts his fingers in and out of Kaveh’s entrance gingerly, adding a third soon after. It’s not much of a stretch, but the pace quickens enough to make Kaveh whine. The scribe releases hot breaths against Kaveh’s skin, impatient and needy, his erection throbbing painfully in his briefs. His own arousal becomes more apparent with every passing second, but god, does he love the way Kaveh clenches around him. Just the thought of that tightness squeezing around his cock makes him push those fingers even deeper into the blonde’s hole.
Kaveh feels a similar frustration; while having something inside of him provides some relief, only something with a bit more substance to it will stave off his desperation. He wraps his legs around Alhaitham’s hips, pulling him closer as his hands tangle themselves in his junior’s hair. With a shaking voice he pleads, “Hayi, as much as I love your fingers… I need more.”
“Hmm. Interesting,” the scribe hums against Kaveh’s cheek, “Are you admitting that I have convinced you, then?”
Alhaitham curls his fingers up with a huff, hitting all the right places. Kaveh’s hips stutter, and the pleasure builds deep in his gut, a familiar feeling that he already recognizes as a sign of impending orgasm. The scribe may be frustrating, but he always knows how to touch him, how to make him tremble at the edge of promising ecstasy. He’s so close, right on the precipice, and it’s burning hot to the point that he can’t see clearly—he gasps out as he anticipates…
Nothing.
What? No. No, no, no.
As Kaveh groans from the sudden emptiness, he directs a begging expression towards the man on top of him, “No, please, Haitham… I was so close—!”
“You didn’t answer my question. Have I convinced you, Kaveh?” Alhaitham asks in his typically provocative tone, but the architect doesn’t fight back this time. After having his orgasm stolen from him, all he can think is that he needs something back inside of him now, or else he’ll simply melt away into oblivion. Alhaitham watches as Kaveh catches his breath with a knowing smile. This is always how it ends. Kaveh can resist and fight and tease as much as he wants—he’ll always end up writhing in the sheets, begging for his cock.
“Yes, you’ve convinced me, you asshole. Fuck me—please. You wouldn’t deny your senior, would you? Please, Hayi…” Kaveh releases his legs from Alhaitham’s hips, spreading them wide to expose his folds entirely, a most effective tactic, one that he sees is successful from the way Alhaitham drops his gaze to his gaping hole. The scribe doesn’t respond verbally, but they both know that he’s about to fold. He was the one who woke up with a boner, after all. He can only wait for so long.
Alhaitham promptly shifts away from Kaveh and frees his cock from its confines, shucking off the briefs that have been the source of his torture all morning. It springs up and hits his stomach almost obnoxiously, the tip leaking with precum. He cages his partner into his arms as he pulls him into a sweet kiss.
It takes them a minute or two (or who knows, maybe it was an hour) before they pull away, breathless and flushed. Alhaitham chuckles with blown-out eyes.
Kaveh furrows his brows at the other’s laugh, “What? What is it?”
“You’re just perfect like this,” Alhaitham mutters before pecking his lips, “I can’t believe you’re mine sometimes.”
“You better believe it.” Kaveh smiles fondly, threading his fingers through Alhaitham’s silver hair, which has become wild from their activities. Their lips meet once more, this time for a heated exchange that makes both men breathless. Intoxicating sounds escape Kaveh as both men open their mouths to one another with a frenzied drive, wanting to be one—connected wholly.
As they kiss, Alhaitham revels in the plush softness of Kaveh’s thighs, squeezing them softly before pulling his pelvis closer to his own. He grabs the base of his cock, guiding it to glide against Kaveh’s folds teasingly. Even that contact, though, is enough for him to groan from the pleasure he’s been deprived of.
He breathes out, “You’re especially perfect here. Always so ready to take me.”
Kaveh lifts his hips to meet Alhaitham’s, silently begging to be filled, and the scribe nods. Words are no longer necessary. All they need is to finish. Finally fulfilling their wishes, Alhaitham pushes his tip past Kaveh’s entrance. He watches with a half-lidded gaze at how those perfect pink folds spread apart for his cock like it was made to take him and only him.
Muffled moans escape both men when Alhaitham finally bottoms out, hips flush against Kaveh’s ass. He doesn’t bother to waste any time, thrusting his cock into the blonde’s wet hole eagerly. The pleasure is indescribable, something otherworldly, a coil tightening deep in his stomach just from being inside his lover after all this time.
“Fuck, Kaveh, you take me so well.” Alhaitham takes the architect’s hand into his own as lewd sounds fill the room. Kaveh doesn’t respond—no, cannot respond—completely lost in his own world, eyes rolled back into his head as moans are punched out of his lips with every thrust against his walls.
He babbles out drunkenly, “Haitham, yes… more—just like that. Fuck.” That’s all Kaveh manages to get out before the scribe kisses him once again, saliva haphazardly dripping down their chins (not that they mind the messiness).
The blonde’s insides are hot and tight around Alhaitham’s cock as he continues his unrelenting pace, the pleasure making him moan into Kaveh’s mouth.
It’s so good. Too good. He won’t last long at this rate.
Alhaitham directs his thrusts for his cock to hit that one spot that makes his lover cry out. This makes Kaveh tremble even more, thighs capturing the scribe against him as the threat of a release rapidly approaches once again. Slutty moans are caught in their kiss, only spurring Alhaitham on as he pounds into Kaveh mercilessly. When the need to breathe presents itself, Kaveh pulls away before gasping out, “You better let me cum this time, Hayi. Hah—fuck, I love your cock… feels so good.”
“Don’t worry. I want you to finish this time,” the scribe responds simply, reaching his free hand down to feverishly rub at Kaveh’s clit as he grinds his cock deep inside of him. With a low grunt, he adds, “Archons, I’m close.”
“Inside. Please.”
Alhaitham would not consider himself a one-pump chump. In fact, he’d boast that he lasts quite long even with Kaveh’s hole pulling him in. Embarrassingly enough, however, the younger man can’t help but cum as soon as he hears those few words. He shudders as the hot fluid fills up Kaveh’s insides, some of the substance leaking out onto the sheets below.
Kaveh lets out a contented sigh at the comforting feeling of being filled, before grinding against the hand that continues to rub circles into his clit. He’s so close that it’s unbearable. He needs to finish after being toyed around with like this.
“Cum for me, Kaveh,” the scribe whispers against Kaveh’s lips, his tone husky and sexy in a way that riles Kaveh up so much that he swears he’ll dissolve into a puddle.
When Alhaitham shallowly thrusts inside of him again, pushing his thick cum further into his walls, he topples over the edge. He practically screams his lover’s name as his orgasm overtakes him, white flashing in his vision with every wave of red-hot pleasure that flows through his entire body. This is Alhaitham’s favorite part—seeing the blonde in such unadulterated bliss is something he could never get tired of.
He slows down his thrusts as they both catch their breaths, and for a moment, the two men simply lay together, unmoving in the face of their intense afterglow. Alhaitham doesn’t bother with pulling out just yet. Whether that’s for practical reasons or his own deep desire is open for debate.
Kaveh closes eyes and Alhaitham greedily traces his gaze over Kaveh’s features, mentally praising whatever deity brought this man to him. Nobody else could fit as snugly like a puzzle piece as Kaveh could, both in mind and body. He sighs shallowly. Contently. After a second, he notices that he managed to make his lover’s unfortunate bedhead even worse, tangled hair splayed out beneath him. The corners of his mouth tug upwards against his will. Oh, how lucky he is.
Pressing a final kiss to Kaveh’s forehead, he thinks to himself that he was wrong. Perhaps this wasn’t that much of a problem after all.