The first time that it happens Kaveh doesn't mean to.

Alhaitham hangs over him in their bed, a hot, oppressive weight. A hand drags down Kaveh's side before settling against his waist. Kaveh is full of his cock, whimpering with every roll of Alhaitham's hips. Alhaitham is kind to him. He's sweet like this, stowed away in their room, cloaked by love and lust.

He's close enough that they share air, foreheads pressed together, skin sweat-slick. Alhaitham moans softly on a downstroke, his cock carving through Kaveh's insides until settled deep. "Kaveh," he hisses. His breath is warm and moist between them. He shifts, pressing his face against Kaveh's nape instead, licking along the line of it, sighing at his taste.

Kaveh's hand slides up and curls into Alhiatham's hair, and in his passion, he pulls. His grip isn't tight, but it's enough to make Alhaitham still. He groans, a low, keening sort of sound. Kaveh feels the way that Alhaitham's eyelashes flutter closed against his skin, a feather-like kiss against his nape.

"Kaveh." Oh, he sounds gone. Punch-drunk. Kaveh's hold on his hair doesn't loosen, it holds firm, nails scraping over Alhaitham's scalp. A kiss to the line of Kaveh's shoulder, his collarbone, his Adam's apple. Alhaitham's breath fans hot over his skin, bleeding right into Kaveh's soul.

He isn't complaining, it seems. Kaveh thinks it's hotter than it should be. Alhaitham is typically quieter in bed and full of focus. Now, he seems off-kilter as he fucks into him again with uneven thrusts and shaking thighs.

Alhaitham leans on an elbow pressed into the mattress. Things shift as his fingers slide into Kaveh's hair, petting through the soft golden locks.

A hesitant touch. Kaveh knows this because he knows Alhaitham and all his tells. He's both loose-limbed and tense. His movements have slowed to a circling grind that leaves his cock feeling thick and long in Kaveh's ass.

A moment stretches, and then Kaveh tugs gently. "Go on," he murmurs. "I know that you want to. Do it."

Alhaitham's hand slides deeper into his hair, gathering the strands. Kaveh's hair is longer. It spills over his palm and is easier to grip. But still, Alhaitham hesitates.

Kaveh's legs are slung around his waist, and he prods Alhaitham's backside with his heel. "Haitham, do it."

"Kaveh—"

"I want—" Kaveh isn't sure exactly what he wants, but one thing is certain: "I want you to. I want to feel it."

Alhaitham pulls, just a mild sting on his scalp. Kaveh moans, his back arching. He wriggles on Alhaitham's cock, taking it deeper. Alhaitham's face is turned to him, watching like a hawk, and though his cheeks are pinked in arousal, his eyes are clear.

"Gods," hisses Kaveh. It feels good. Doesn't know why it does, all he knows is that there's a tingle at the bottom of his spine that prickles into a low burn. "Archons."

Alhaitham likes it, he thinks, like the control, likes the grounding feel of it, the way that he can so easily manhandle Kaveh underneath him. It's a calculated thing. Alhaitham's fingertips smooth over his scalp as he rearranges his grip, grasping at a larger section of his hair before -pulling again.

Combined with a thrust of his cock—Kaveh can't stop the needy sound that bubbles from his throat. Embarrassing. He's red in the face, he just knows it. Alhaitham presses his nose against Kaveh's temple and inhales, taking in the scent and feel of him. He fucks him earnestly again, sloppy, uneven movements. The drag of his cock feels desperate, insistent, nearly fucking there. So close to that perfect spot.

Kaveh whines. He needs more, he needs, he needs— "Harder," he practically snarls, yanking at Alhaitham's hair.

Alhaitham gives him exactly what he asks for, fingers tightening and pulling at his hair until Kaveh gasps.

"Haitham—Haitham. Mhmn, fuck, fuck—"

His head is forced back, baring his neck. Alhaitham's mouth is on him in an instant, teeth sinking in to mark it up. He sucks, tongue chasing his teeth as he peppers kiss after kiss along the column of Kaveh's throat.

It isn't that Alhaitham is never like this; he is a passionate lover, a pleaser in bed, the sort of man who will service Kaveh in every wish he utters. But there's something self-servicing about this. He pulls at Kaveh's hair because he wants to. He bites at Kaveh's neck because he wants to leave evidence there, wants to see those marks for days and replay this night in his mind.

Kaveh lifts his hips to meet his thrusts. The tip of Alhaitham's cock finally strikes true, nailing his prostate. Kaveh yelps—and when Alhaitham pauses, he's already protesting. "No, no, no, don't—Gods, you idiot, keep going."

Alhaithm huffs into his neck. "Idiot," he murmurs, nuzzling the juncture of his throat. "Your idiot, though." And then his tone turns sentimental and soft. "Kaveh."

Kaveh's hand sneaks between them to stroke his own cock. It aches. Leaks all over his belly. He keens and Alhaitham is wrapped entirely around his fingers with that sound alone, pulling at his hair and fucking into him again. He shudders. His breath hitches with every drive of his cock as it slides through Kaveh's core, and then he moans, relishing the tight grip around it.

"Gods, you feel—"

Another yank at Kaveh's hair sets his veins on fire. Kaveh comes, spilling all over his hand with a sharp cry of Alhaitham's name.

Alhaitham curses again, fucking Kaveh right through his orgasm. Kaveh wriggles underneath him, overstimulated, tears leaking from his eyes. It's good, too good, not enough, too much. The sting of his scalp, Alhaitham's thick cock, the fullness that he feels all the way into his throat.

Kaveh presses his hand flat against his stomach, uncaring of his come and mess, imagining that he can feel the bulge of Alhaitham's cock deep inside him.

Several more thrusts and searing warmth splashes through him. Alhaitham comes with a low-pitched, drawn-out sound. Hitched breath. A small hiss as Kaveh squeezes tight, his ass holding onto his dick with a vice grip. Alhaitham still tugs at his hair and Kaveh's scalp smarts as the feel of it turns sharp.

Oh, but he feels alive. The room is charged. Kaveh's dick twitches in renewed interest, and he has to shove his palm against it to ease it off.

Alhaitham falls against him with a grunt. His weight is welcome. The grip on Kaveh's hair loosens, fingers petting his scalp instead. "Sorry," Alhaitham mutters.

Kaveh snorts. "Nonsense. It was—Gods, it was—" Kaveh moans softly, still riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm. He turns his face and hoses at Alhaitham's ear. He presses a soft kiss there, lingering. "You did as I asked. It was wonderful."

Alhaitham doesn't say anything, suddenly shy, he just melts into Kaveh, leeching his heat. So tactile—but only with Kaveh. It's as if skin-on-skin contact is what revives him.

"A bath," says Alhaitham eventually. He leans back and kisses Kaveh's brow. His cock slips out, now soft, and with a rush of come, and Kaveh's cheeks tint pink at the feel of it. What a loss. His hole begs to keep it, to be filled again, but—

"Yes, a bath," he hums softly.

Alhaitham leans over him, propped up on an elbow. His hand brushes through Kaveh's hair, tugging it gently. "Hair-pulling, hm?"

"Shove it. You liked it just as much—dare I say even loved it."

A pause. Kaveh squirms under Alhaitham's inquisitive gaze. "I love you."

Oh. Kaveh's mouth is dry. Of course, Alhaitham loved it because he loves anything to do with Kaveh, terrible or not. Kaveh is tugged from the bed and into the bathroom. This time, they bathe as they say they will, with innocent hands and sweet-smelling shampoo.

And maybe, Alhaitham tugs gently as he washes Kaveh's hair. Kaveh certainly doesn't miss the smirk that flashes across his face as they meet glances in the mirror, remembering.

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