Woke and Wanton

After a night out, Kaveh and Alhaitham get a little touchy-feely.

CW: Contains Smut

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Alhaitham maintains that he is not too drunk for this.

Inebriated, yes, pleasantly warmed by the alcohol that flows through his veins. A little wobbly, the sort of head-spinning that leaves you light and goofy, which is why he chuckles when Kaveh's back hits the door. It clicks shut under their weight.

Kaveh laughs too, head tilted back, his neck on display. "Who knew you were so easy to swoon?"

For Kaveh? Yes. But Kaveh doesn't need to know that this is a him and him only thing, that so few others truly capture Alhaitham's attention, least of all for years. It's been a long burning flame that heats his gut, a poison that curdles his veins and chokes his throat. Alhaitham does not do romance and yet he wants.

"I could say that I was surprised you were so easy, but that'd be a lie."

"What a cruel thing to say."

"As cruel as the men you bring through here?"

Kaveh frowns. "Don't be ridiculous. I have enough class to at least—"

"Fuck them elsewhere?" The jealousy doesn't suit him. Alhaitham is typically a man who doesn't even think about things like that but still, the anger of it rolls through him, raising hackles.

Kaveh's expression cools. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He shifts then, widening his legs, pulling Alhaitham close with tight fingers around his hips. "It's rude to talk about other men, by the way, when you're like this." Kaveh's palm presses against his trousers, tracing the length of his hard erection.

Alhaitham moans, face dipping towards his neck. Kaveh smells like the bar; like alcohol and sweat; like that too-expensive lotion that he splurges on when he shouldn't. "Kaveh," he says, wholly weak, unable to turn back from biting at Kaveh's neck.

It feels natural, almost. They shouldn't be so in tune with each other but even tipsy every movement is like a dance. Kaveh anticipates everything that Alhaitham does, reacting in kind. The widening of his thighs, the subtle way that he lifts his hips, how his head tosses to the side as Alhaitham sweeps his mouth down the column of his neck.

Infuriating. Kaveh is both loving and vexing, and Alhaitham cannot decide which he prefers. So, he drowns in the scent of him, in the feel of his soft skin, in the sounds that he sighs with every mark that Alhaitham sucks into his neck.

Heated. The room is stuffy. They free just enough of themselves from their clothes to take the edge off. Kaveh leans against the back of the couch, teetering slightly on his loose-limbed feet. Alhaitham stares. Takes in the sight of his red, flushed face, the pink tinge of his sternum, his leaking cock that's been pulled from his trousers.

"What's with that look?" asks Kaveh. A sultry tease dipped in arousal. Kaveh watches him back with a half-lidded gaze that's too sordid for the thoughts that roll through Alhaitham's mind. " What is it that you want?"

Alhaitham is not an uncaring man. Kaveh is precious to him in a way that is shown through the sort of bickering that only life-long friends hold. Still. There are many things he wants and not enough minutes to count them.

To hold you. To treat you preciously. For you to realize that you deserve this because you deserve it, not because it's expected. There are a hundred different things that he can say, each of them more complicated than the next. "Stress relief," says Alhaitham instead. "I'm pent up. It's been—" He's never done this, never needed to, not when he can palm himself whilst listening to Kaveh fuck his own hand a room away. "—a while."

Kaveh grins, a feline curve of his mouth that sends blood straight to Alhaitham's groin. "An easy fix," he says, turning around, leaning against the rough linen of the couch, jutting his ass out. Kaveh's trousers drop to his ankles, revealing his round backside and the curve of his thighs. Lean. Both pretty and handsome, all angles and curves. Just soft enough.

Alhaitham is quick to slot behind him, cock rubbing against his ass. His fingers curl around his hips with an iron-like grip.

"There we go," says Kaveh. His voice is breathy. He moans softly, head tipping forward as Alhaitham slots his cock between his thighs. "Oh, that's—"

"Just like this," cuts in Alhaitham. Seems like a good middle ground. This isn't the time or place to pretend he has experience. Alhaitham guides Kaveh's thighs to squeeze shut, suffocating his dick between plush muscles.

Kaveh's gaze is unreadable. He says nothing as he spits into his hand and reaches between his thighs to grasp at Alhaitham's length. His grip is flimsy but slick. Uncoordinated. "The least you could do is lube it up. Won't feel good if it's dry."

"I promise you, it feels good." Alhaitham tips forward to rest his chin on Kaveh's shoulder. "You feel good," he continues, pulling his hips back and thrusting back into the warm, soft space.

Kaveh snorts. He doesn't pull his hand away, he keeps it there, palm pressed to the tip of Alhaitham's cock. Alhaitham grunts, fucking his thighs, moaning softly every time his slit meets Kaveh's calloused palm. Artist's hands—the hands of a man with a trade, whose fingers are charcoal-stained and thick-skinned with use. Those calluses drag against Alhaitham's dick.

"Gods," says Kaveh then, shifting, pressing back against him. Suddenly, his hand is gone and Alhaitham's cock slides against his balls instead. "Oh—oh—"

"You're surprised?"

"I've never—" Kaveh stops himself and clears his throat. "My trysts are different," he murmurs. "I've never indulged in something so crude, so, so—ah."

His hand finds Kaveh's cock, fingers tracing his erection before sweeping through the precome that leaks from the tip. "Making a mess of my furniture," he teases. Alhaitham is plastered against his back. His cock aches, twitching between Kaveh's soft thighs.

"I'll clean it up later. Keep doing that, keep—Haitham."

Alhaitham strokes his cock and fucks his thighs. Relishes this moment with Kaveh, this ill-timed, hazy stupor that's pulled him into acting irrationally. He's wanted—oh, he's wanted—and who knew that Kaveh would so easily give in? They could've been doing this the entire time, they could've—

That'd make it worse, would it? Causal fucking would suit them just fine but Alhaitham wonders how long it would take to fall down the rabbit hole entirely. He's already halfway there, was so years ago from the first moment he saw Kaveh. A handsome face, framed by golden hair like the sun. That damned smile that's more like a smirk, and the soft way he says Alhaitham's name when Kaveh thinks he isn't listening.

At first, it was the booze that warmed his veins, but now it's the sight of Kaveh before him. He responds so well, so eagerly, bucking back against him and thrusting into his hand. Alhaitham could melt into him, become one, flesh and bones, melting together until they can't part. It's a dream, one fueled into action by his addled brain.

He fucks into Kaveh's thighs faster, precome smearing against the insides of his thighs. Kaveh is loud—so, so loud—but he already knew that. Alhaitham thinks of all those nights listening in with a hand around his cock. And now—

"Shit, shit, I'm going to—" Kaveh's keening whine folds over Alhaitham. Drags him under into that syrupy glow of his arousal. His cock aches for release, for something more. Alhaitham thinks of being buried in his tight ass instead. Later, later, later, even though it'll likely never happen.

But he'll take this moment. He'll dream of this moment forever if that's what it takes to curb these feelings. It's easier as roommates. Alhaitham adores Kaveh but not in the way that he needs, unsuited for being a proper partner.

Alhaitham's hand is tight around Kaveh's cock as he jerks it. "Kaveh, come on," he says into his ear, nipping at the shell of it. "I want to see it. I want to see you." If only to sear this moment into his mind.

Kaveh bites at his lip to choke off a moan. "I'd rather—"

"Like this." Alhaitham knows the alternative. "Be a good boy for me."

Kaveh's thighs tighten at the request. His cock twitches and he spills suddenly, coming with a weak cry as his legs shake with the onslaught of his orgasm. The sound does him in. Alhaithm fucks Kaveh's thighs until he's coming too, praise falling from his mouth, loose-tongued and extraordinary.

The aftermath is a mess. Alhaitham's spend drips down Kaveh's thighs. Kaveh does the unthinkable—he sweeps his fingers through it then brings them to his mouth for a taste.

"Kaveh, that's—" Kaveh's grin is devilish. Alhaitham shuts his eyes, counts to three, and takes a breath. "Don't that's—"

"Surely you aren't about to say this was a mistake."

"No!" Alhaitham surprised himself with his own quick, vehement response. He clears his throat. "I got what I wanted."

Kaveh stills. His expression falls ever-so-slightly, which makes Alhaitham's blood boil a bit. The anger is irrational but he lashes out regardless. "If you need someone to fuck you, then I'm sure there are better choices."

"And if there aren't?" Kaveh asks it haughtily, voice drawn tight and thin, vexed beyond reason. He slow-blinks, those long lashes dusting his high cheekbones. "Or, if I want to make a bad choice?"

Alhaitham swallows. "Another time. I'm—I'm tired."

Kaveh, to his relief, backs off. "Right, okay," he says with a nod. Then, he cringes. "You're joking, were you? About being pent up. Just how backed up were you?" He scoops at the come between his thighs and it drips from his fingers, thick and viscous. There is an embarrassingly large amount.

"As if you weren't a show yourself." Alhaitham wriggles his fingers, showing off another mess. "Clean up—you said that you would. I'm going to bed."

It isn't until Alhaitham reaches the hallway that Kaveh says something else. "Haitham, you aren't—" A pause. Alhaitham turns to find him half-dressed again, patting the couch with his shirt. "This wasn't a mistake, was it?"

Alhaitham sighs, his expression softening. "No." His answer bleeds with truth. "You know that I never do anything that I don't want to. I think I needed it as much as you."

"And in the future?" Kaveh doesn't meet his face.

"It's the future. Who's to say?" A terrible answer.

"Right. There's never knowing with you." Kaveh huffs, expecting it.

They meet gazes again and it's like electricity crackles between them. Alhaitham leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, mostly sober.

"Are you going to stand there and just watch me clean?"

"Yes. It's your mess."

The tension in the air breaks with Kaveh's lofty laugh. "And to think, I might have expected something else. Go to bed, Haitham. I'll see you in the morning."

Alhaitham nearly stays there. He almost goes to Kaveh to sweep him off his feet but then he remembers that the booze has worn off and embarrassment has set in. Kaveh drank more. He's still a little unsteady on his legs, mildly tipsy.

Later, he thinks. He'll talk to Kaveh about this later.

He sleeps well enough that night. The morning after is normal too, minus the fact that Kaveh's fingers linger a little longer than normal when he passes Alhaitham his coffee.

Alhaitham grabs his wrist and Kaveh pauses. His thumb slides over the bone there as he allows himself that simple, essay touch. "Coffee grounds," he says then, pulling back.

It should be awkward, he thinks.

It isn't. And, his coffee tastes nicer that day.

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