citylogs | [OPEN]

[ kaveh's blond eyebrow rises right up into his hairline. ]

Don't thank me like that; it always sounds sarcastic, coming from you. Yes, it's a maid's dress. No, I'm not about to get ridiculous over it. My only complaint is that it's difficult to move in, and that the pleats aren't ironed properly. [ kaveh pauses. ] What's that in your mouth?

[Alhaitham's gaze down at "difficult to move in" is, at least, extremely fleeting.

He sets his teeth together and curls his lips all the way back Kaveh can see for himself: plastic vampire fangs.]

Edited 2023-10-21 05:42 (UTC)

[ kaveh looks.

kaveh stares. ]

They don't quite fit your mouth. [ is the first thing kaveh manages. and then, the critical sweep of the red of his eyes before he kneels in front of alhaitham, gently tipping his chin up so he can examine the teeth. a hand reaches forward to tap a plastic canine. ] Incredible, they're really plastic. And it's not like you understand the meaning of fun, so they're stuck in there, aren't they. Why didn't the city give you vampire clothing, too? I'm sure there's a stereotype associated with it - long black cloaks and all.

They only came in one size. [Which, as it turns out, does not quite fit all. He looks down at Kaveh over the curve of his cheek.] And it's probably because this was exactly what I wore when I went to check on Tsuruno and Robby's party.

[The quirk of a brow.] Are you not stuck in that dress?

I am. Otherwise, why else would I be wearing it? [ kaveh pauses. ] Right, so these fangs are... [ ... ] You picked it yourself.

[A shrug of Alhaitham's shoulders.] I did.

[He picked them because it was ironic. Because why would he pick vampire fangs, after Midnight. After Kaveh, cold in his arms. After anger traded over a bowl of melon. Kaveh knows. Alhaitham knows that Kaveh knows.

It was really only supposed to be five minutes.] It was a costume party after all.

[ kaveh looks. of course, he thinks. ]

And you were still angry over it. Over that. [ flatly; ] How many times must I say so? It wasn't Midnight's fault.

And how many times do I have to say that your sympathy doesn't negate his responsibility. [He leans back in the chair, chin slipping from Kaveh's hand.] Nor does this negate my anger.

He was suffering, Alhaitham. He had very little choice on the matter. [ kaveh draws himself up. ] And I was glad to help! This was nearly a month ago; haven't you found anything new to be upset about?

Sure. The tea, this retaliation, none of that has anything to do with my opinion on things from a month ago. I'm not dwelling on it, but I've seen nothing to change my stance.

[Again, they won't find agreement on the topic. As such, in this position there's little reason more to argue it.

Instead, Alhaitham's gaze falls to Kaveh's feet. It rises in an elevator crawl to observe how Kaveh is fit in that dress, and how strongly he stands, and if any fabric is torn, if it is scuffed, if anything signifies hidden injuries or exhaustion.

... For once, he really does look better off than Alhaitham. He hates to admit that.]

You look uninjured. [He says it almost in a murmur. He's been hungry for at least a day, in a way that no food has been able to satiate. Trying to eat it away only makes him ill. This, he realizes, is another consequence. Sizing Kaveh up has a consequence, and it's reminding him of the urge of aggression.] You said you've left and returned. So what's the catch?

[ and yet, kaveh nearly says, you chose vampire teeth. it has more basis in instinct than it does in logic, but kaveh knows without a shadow of a doubt that he is right. the world is made of its schemas. coincidences defy probability. alhaitham picked vampire teeth, and kaveh looks.

alhaitham looks back.

in the stunned silence that follows, it occurs to kaveh that it isn't the first time someone has elevator crawled up the length of his outfit. alhaitham's eyes linger. kaveh knows the angle of it, tracks the movement of the burnished wildfire red as alhaitham takes in the thin points of kaveh's heels, the white stockings, the single frilled garter just beneath the hem of a skirt resting above his knees, replete with pleated ruffles that line up to the modest curve of his chest. it occurs to kaveh that this is the first time he has felt self-conscious.

it ought to be easy, to pivot. but alhaitham asks of the catch, and kaveh thinks - it's the old argument again. they've never left. ]

There isn't one. [ kaveh admits, because alhaitham was going to find out eventually. because this is alhaitham, who never stops picking at a problem until he's understood it fully, no matter who or what got in the way of it. ] I chose to come back.

[ because the midnight argument really is about this: kaveh's choices. ]

[It is, as always, about Kaveh's choices. Alhaitham has never held back when he disagrees with Kaveh's choices--indeed, they're a long line of things they disagree about in general.

There had been Kaveh in a tavern, burnt out on his ideal and the mansion for a merchant. There had been so little life in his eyes until Alhaitham found just the right sentence to spark the fire. There was a decision, then, that he would catch Kaveh as many times as he had to so that he could continue to make choices. So that Kaveh would never run out of wick to burn, would never lack a roof over his head or the security of a meal.

It doesn't mean he has to like those choices.]

Nothing? [His brow furrows, a little disbelieving.] The only thing about this place is being a maze of festive decorations?

What I mean to say is, the compulsion to come back inside isn't something I've felt. I've been to the top floors. There are people who are being forced to attack others through the effects of the house itself. [ kaveh breathes out. it comes out much in the way a flame would expel smoke, an engine would expel steam. kaveh burns. ] They're harming people, and themselves, Alhaitham. So that's why I'm here.

[ the tip of his chain is defiant as he looks alhaitham's way. ] The best I can give is for people to stay in small groups, so that if any one person is struck, then others can help subdue them. But that runs the risk of multiple people being struck at once by the compulsion - it's still better than acting in pairs, or solo.

[Kaveh's chin tips. The defiance is not at him, it's to this place. It's to powers larger than them that they would dare. It's a juxtaposition to the intent of his costume, and that too is so very Kaveh. Confounding, brilliant, beautiful Kaveh.

He burns bright. Alhaitham, as always, looks.

The hunger's in his throat. It also burns.]

[ kaveh looks. alhaitham looks back. for a moment, the silence steeps.

kaveh's brow furrows. ]

... well? No come back? A terrible diatribe on how my decisions always lead to the worst possible outcome? [ is what kaveh says. but what he does is lean in. alhaitham's gaze seems focused. aside from the obvious fatigue, there are no visible injuries, no wounds. nothing to indicate head trauma.

still, it's unlike alhaitham, kaveh thinks, to leave kaveh's words uncontested. the intent of kaveh's gaze crumples into something like concern. ] ... Haitham, are you alright? Truly.

[Alhaitham continues to look. Actually, looking understates the attention of it. Every blink is slow and infrequent. His eyes are unmoving even as Kaveh leans in.

So Alhaitham breathes in. Kaveh's preference is jasmine. The scent is a staple in all his soaps and shampoos. It's contrasted by the smell of mint that sticks to his fingers, to his lips. It is a simple two flavors. It is infinitely more complex, mixing into a scent that makes up Kaveh. It is a scent Alhaitham knows coyly, one that he can only catch in wafts. That it was only close enough to taste once.

Kaveh leaning in was the mistake, because Alhaitham smells him. Alhaitham sees the curl of his lips, the curve of his neck. Alhaitham is hungry, and after Kaveh leans in the only thought that grips him is that he's close enough to devour.

His left arm moves first in a firm grip around Kaveh's waist. His right hand loops furhter up, gripping the fabric at the back of his dress to yank Kaveh into his lap. He remembers exactly where Midnight bit Kaveh. He remembers the shape of the bruise in perfect detail.

Alhaitham's jaw opens and locks teeth over the exact spot. The plastic is too dull--the force of his bite fails to break skin. There is no taste of blood on his tongue as it flattens to the flesh. But it isn't the bite that causes the bruising, is it?

It's the sharp suck.]

[ alhaitham looks. kaveh knows the exact moment when alhaitham ceases to merely look. it's in the shape of his body, you see, in the shift on the long, line of silverine mercury that makes up alhaitham's core. it always starts in the shift of his shoulders. kaveh, across the training field, facing off of the glint of alhaitham's sword. the way the veins of his neck shift just so to accommodate the bulk of muscle beneath, just as alhaitham moves faster than anyone thought him capable of. except kaveh. kaveh always knew. it's not the first time alhaitham has moved against him. but this is the first time where it matters.

kaveh's breath catches in his throat. he is dragged forward. his instinct is to push - two hands braced against alhaitham's shoulders as he slides into his lap, and those hands are paralysed with a sudden realisation that this is alhaitham. kaveh's hands falter. tat is kaveh's first and last mistake. alhaitham's mouth comes for him, and kaveh grits his teeth.

it lands, the bite. it's not the bite that causes the bruising. it's the suck that follows. the soft, high sound torn from kaveh's throat is punctuated by the digging of his bitten nails into the muscle of alhaitham's shoulders. there they are, shoulder-to-shoulder, chest-to-chest, alhaitham's hand a burning brand into the window of his backless dress, and kaveh thinks - ]

Alhaitham. [ kaveh says, the words beyond reproach. it's a demand, it's a call, but above all else, it's a plea. kaveh's hands bunch up into the wrinkled canvas of alhaitham's shirt. he is bent with the weight of it. ] Alhaitham, you-

[He remembers that sound. It had been the pressure of his thumb on the bruise that Midnight left. It had been the realization Kaveh would have made that same sound upon being bitten that had Alhaitham ask: did you want this? Did you want him?

It's what he wants to hear: done for him. The greed is unjustified. Kaveh is not his. Kaveh cannot simply be claimed. But if fills Alhaitham with a deep satisfaction that his mouth replaces Midnight's, that Kaveh will still cry that high, soft sound when it's him.

He is not himself right now. If he were himself, he would take these feelings and swallow them down. He would stand opposite, out of reach to Kaveh. But he carries battered defenses from his failed attempt to resist the city. He needed no compulsion to want to taste Kaveh.

Only to act on it.

Kaveh demands, calls, pleads. Alhaitham is dragged into it. The pressure under his mouth increases sharply. He only releases when he can't breathe, releasing Kaveh's neck with a ragged gasp and the drag of the tip of his tongue.] Kaveh.

[His lips seal to the mark in a kiss.]

[ between the act and the motion is the pain. kaveh's breath catches at it, on the hook of it, the way alhaitham's jaw bites down as if with the sole intent to rend him apart. alhaitham could, is the thing. kaveh's hands brace themselves against the bulk of alhaitham's shoulders. kaveh's hands are scarred. they are callused. they are far more at home with lumber and stone than they are with blankets and pillows. these are the hands that break hearts. kaveh only needs to wrap them around alhaitham's neck. he only needs to squeeze.

there had been a mall, is the thing. there had been a kaveh with an expression like the snezhnayan sea. it had been kaveh's hands around alhaitham's neck after all.

kaveh's hands falter. alhaitham releases him. kaveh's gasp is punctuated only by the press of lips to his neck. the tenderness of it breaks something in him. it has the quality much in the way of shattered glass. ]

Please. [ kaveh breathes, his breath choked, because alhaitham has just said his name, low and slow, and kaveh doesn't know what it means. ] Alhaitham, you are not yourself. This isn't you. Alhaitham!

[ but kaveh does not pull away. this is alhaitham. this is less of himself, but it doesn't matter, does it? kaveh had been the first to walk away, once. this time, kaveh stays. his arms wrap themselves around the mercury lines of alhaitham's back. kaveh pulls him in. ] Alhaitham, please.

[You are not yourself. He is not in control of himself. He is dripping parts he shouldn't be.

There is a shudder as he breathes in, a grip for control. Kaveh puts it into words. Alhaitham knows that what Kaveh means doesn't match what Alhaitham's does. He expects in the space of the moment he doesn't act that Kaveh will. Kaveh will pull away.

But Kaveh pulls him in. Kaveh's arms wrap around him. Alhaitham breathes out. His grip eases, fingers unraveling from the fabric they're wrinkled to lay flat against Kaveh.

Alhaitham breathes in. Kaveh's neck smells like jasmine and mint. He knows where he is. He knows what he's done.]

... Are you going to pretend this didn't happen as well?

[Like the kiss. Like half-bitten words in the mall.]

[ kaveh feels it, is the thing. he feels it, the bunched muscles of alhaitham's back. he feels it, the way alhaitham draws in upon himself to assert control. because, kaveh thinks, fierce in his terror and rage - who are they to impose this on alhaitham? who are they to make them do as they did not wish? kaveh's hold on alhaitham is oak. kaveh's grip is stone. he holds him there as alhaitham begins to breathe.

slowly, alhaitham's fingers unravel. slowly, alhaitham breathes in. kaveh feels it, that puff of breath, the warmth of it against the low cut of his dress. relief floods him. kaveh's eyes close.

- and sucks in a wounded breath. ]

... what?

[ there had been a mall. there had been a greenhouse. kaveh's arms tremble. ]

You seem of sound mind this whole time, so I don't need to repeat myself. [It would only be the same question. It will echo in Kaveh all the same.

Alhaitham's head tilts, cheek brushing close to Kaveh's shoulder so he can look at the corner of Kaveh's eyes. It's expectant, but it isn't a straight answer Alhaitham expects. It will be one he has to shift out of the reaction.]

And were you? [ kaveh's breath seethes. he looks. his elbows shift. kaveh's fingers rest upon the slopes of alhaitham's shoulders. ]

Were you sound of mind? What was that bite? You - it was- [ right where midnight had bitten him, once, ] you aimed it. Were you pretending?

Alhaitham, I was frightened.

[He aimed it. Alhaitham can't even blame that completely on the city's will being pressed upon him. He had chosen the spot Midnight bit. He had covered it with his own.

Kaveh was frightened. Kaveh asked a question. It's always a question for a question.] Were frightened, or are?

[Was he afraid this city had turned Alhaitham into something not himself? Or is he afraid that Alhaitham meant it all along?]

[ kaveh looks. there terror of it sinks in. alhaitham has never needed to qualify his questions. he only ever needed to ask. it was the way of things, that kaveh always understood. now, kaveh wishes he didn't. was, or are. a mere shifting of tenses. two questions in parallel, and kaveh -

he sits there in alhaitham's lap. he sits there, and looks. ]

Only one of those, [ kaveh says, after a beat, after a drawn breath as sharp as a keen knife's edge, ] is forgivable, Alhaitham. But perhaps that doesn't matter to you.

Alhaitham, do you still think about that kiss?

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