Archive of Our Own

“Behave yourself,” Al-Haitham murmurs as he settles over Kaveh’s body, trapping his hips with just the strength of his thighs. 

It’s a ludicrous demand to make of anyone, but especially so tonight–how is Kaveh meant to keep calm and collected when Alhaitham sits on him wearing nothing but a leather harness dyed a deep green? How is he meant to be sane, watching how the asymmetrical leather frames the man’s ridiculous and ample chest? How is any man with eyes and a healthy (possibly overactive) sexual appetite meant to not go completely feral when that emerald leather cuts down Alhaitham’s torso in a deep V, stopping just over the fine silvery hairs nestled over his cock to connect to the band encircling his hips, teasing Kaveh’s imagination with the obvious hooks meant to attach garters?

Absurd. Absolutely absurd.

“ Haitham ,” Kaveh tries to say when his wrists are swiftly pinned down above his head, staring up with his best and most pleading expression. Outside of the bedroom, it almost always works–Kaveh worked out long ago that Al-Haitham is ridiculously weak to a good pout. The trouble is, in the bedroom it has a 50/50 chance of inspiring the Scribe to be a much meaner tease, and Kaveh’s always had terrible luck.

Alhaitham’s eyes glitter dangerously, and he simply rocks his hips forward, a torturously slow grind of his cock against Kaveh. Kaveh writhes, chokes back a whine, and tries to raise his hips, to rut against that sweet heat, only to still at the sharp look the Scribe gives him.

“ Behave , Kaveh. Surely that isn’t too hard for the Light of Kshahrewar?”

“ Fuck you– ”

“Only if you’re good,” Alhaitham promises, and Kaveh feels something so electric shoot up his spine he’s dizzy. Alhaitham tilts his head, his lips just so faintly curved in a way that would be a wide grin on anyone else. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

All of Kaveh’s defiance evaporates in an instant, and he keens in the back of his throat, staring up at Alhaitham pleadingly. He wants, he wants, he wants, oh he wants , but if Alhaitham wants him to be good, he can be good, he’ll show Alhaitham just how good–

Alhaitham’s hand leaves his wrists, only to grab Kaveh by the chin, running his thumb over Kaveh’s lips. It’s only then Kaveh realizes he has spoken aloud, but instead of processing that, he parts his lips invitingly, still staring beseechingly up at Alhaitham. Alhaitham’s breath hitches, his eyes minutely widening–to anyone else, he would have seemed unaffected, but not to Kaveh. For a moment, his thumb presses down on Kaveh’s lower lip, poised just at the point of pressing into his mouth, before Alhaitham huffs lightly.

“Mmm, no. You beg so prettily, I think I’d rather hear it.”

“Alhaitham, please– ”

“Ah-ah.” Alhaitham chuckles, a deep, rich sound that Kaveh drinks like an oasis, and taps a finger against Kaveh’s lips. “Not yet. You’re always so eager to beg for me…where does your pride go? Does it vanish away somewhere when your dick is wet? Perhaps we should consult the Amurta specialists about this.”

Kaveh’s mind cannot decide whether to whine or cuss Alhaitham out, so a stuttered groan comes out instead. Alhaitham simply laughs again, before sitting up, sitting straighter. Once more, he grabs Kaveh by the wrists, this time to place his hands on Alhaitham’s hips, feeling the supple leather there.

“Grab hold. You can’t move them until I say otherwise.”

“What? But–I—” Kaveh’s eyes fall to Alhaitham’s chest, and the glory of it, perfectly framed by the leather From the strap that runs down his median, to the horizontal bar that has a perfectly placed ring around Alhaitham’s right nipple, silver accentuating the deep red flush of it, all of it seems designed to drive Kaveh insane. Why present his chest so sinfully if they are not to be touched?

“Are you going to behave, or do I have to tie your hands, Kaveh?” The purr in Alhaitham’s voice is anything but an idle threat, and Kaveh swallows, having to decide very, very quickly if that is an invitation to misbehave.

He settles his hands there on Alhaitham’s hips, sliding his thumbs just under the strap to hold him there. Alhaitham rewards him with a pleased hum, and Kaveh gets only the momentary warning of the man’s hand on his cock to line them up before Alhaitham drops himself down onto it, bottoming out alarmingly fast. Kaveh hadn’t even seen him reach for the oil.

His hips jerk and buck on instinct, a startled cry torn from Kaveh’s throat, and Alhaitham presses a hand down onto his shoulder, eyes feverishly bright.

“Kaveh,” he says, and the hoarse, almost breathless tone to Alhaitham’s voice makes Kaveh’s dick twitch .  “You can move…you can even cum. But you’re not getting up until I’m done.”

There is no time to process what Alhaitham’s intentions are, or what he means by that order, before Alhaitham has lifted himself up (Kaveh is entranced by the flex of muscle in those beautiful thighs, and once more imagines how they’d look if Alhaitham had worn the kind of stockings that would merit the garter clips on his harness) and immediately slammed back down. 

The pace Alhaitham sets is brutal, overwhelming from the jump, drowning Kaveh in the obscene, wet slap of their bodies as much as the impossible heat of Alhaitham’s body as he rides. Kaveh’s voice cracks and rises as he moans, helplessly bucking up to meet Alhaitham’s hips, his hands digging in around the harness as he holds on for dear life. 

But while his hands must stay in place, Alhaitham is bound by no such order, dragging his up Kaveh’s stomach to his chest to pinch at his nipples, making Kaveh yelp and writhe, eyes stinging with tears. It is not pain that overwhelms him, but pleasure that has him already on the brink of orgasm. Distantly, through the fog, he hears Alhaitham laugh, breathless and throaty.

“So sensitive…yet you wear that open shirt all day, like an invitation. Is that what you want, Kaveh? Are you trying to drive me mad all day, when I’m working to pay off your tabs?”

“I– Haitham– ”

“Because it’s working .” Alhaitham pinches him again, tilts his body forward to murmur in Kaveh’s ear, lust dripping of every velvety syllable. “Do you know how hard it is to not take you out of your office hours and suck you off? Mark up your pretty chest so your students know full well who you belong to? You are the death of my reason, Kaaaveh.”

Kaveh chokes, face burning as he fucks hard and erratic into Alhaitham, already so close, trying so hard to hold on, because he knows, knows that he can do better, he can last, he can make Alhaitham cum–

And Alhaitham leans back, the long lines of his body fluid even as his face is flush with pleasure, and rocks his hips down, contracting the muscle around the ring of his hole, squeezing tight enough to milk Kaveh dry.

The effect is immediate–Kaveh cries out, a broken wail of Alhaitham’s name, his hands digging so hard into Alhaitham’s hips they may bruise, and the leather strap will leave imprints on his hands for days after, hips bucking helplessly as he cums. And, as promised, Alhaitham does not stop , pinching both of Kaveh’s nipples between his fingers even as he continues to ride, face slack and a deep flush glowing from his neck to his shoulders.

Kaveh loves to see Alhaitham like this, even through the haze of pain and overstimulation. His lover’s face is relaxed, all his sharp edges gone; his eyes almost squinted shut, his long eyelashes hiding the intense color of his eyes. Alhaitham’s mouth is parted, even his lips rosy with exertion and arousal, and he pants, gulping for air as he drives them towards his own finish. Kaveh learned early on that Alhaitham is quiet , rarely making a sound, but his silence is hardly indicative of a lack of pleasure; one look at Alhaitham’s expression would dispel that doubt.

“Fuck, you feel…” Alhaitham’s voice warbles and shakes, and his nails scratch lightly down Kaveh’s chest as he seems to try to dig in a better grip. 

“You’re so good for me, Kaveh, you…” Here he pauses, out of breath, his body shuddering in anticipation of his own orgasm. Kaveh can barely see, vision hazy with tears, pain and pleasure mixed together until they are indistinguishable. Alhaitham leans forward, his weight on his hands as he rides, almost leaning down too far to do more than roughly grind on Kaveh’s cock.

“Kaveh, you were made for me, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Kaveh sobs, his mind dimly recognizing the signs of Alhaitham’s end just a little too late, before Alhaitham’s mouth comes crashing onto his and all thoughts cease. Alhaitham likes to be kissing through his orgasm, and does so now, cock throbbing and pulsing where it is trapped between them, painting their stomachs white-hot even as Alhaitham steals Kaveh’s breath and wits with his tongue. Even when Alhaitham finally stops moving, body shuddering and shaking, the kiss lasts, until Kaveh taps at Alhaitham’s hip.

Alhaitham breaks away immediately, eyes blown wide open, pupils dilated and face so flushed he looks feverish–so obviously fucked out that Kaveh would smile if he had any control of his facial expressions right there. Even freshly fucked, his brow furrows in worry, reaching for Kaveh’s hands to pull them free.

“Kaveh?”

“Need to breathe…” He tries to smile, lopsided, and tugs Alhaitham’s hand to his lips. “I can go more in a minute.”

Kaveh means kissing, because he could never get enough of kissing Alhaitham, morning noon and night, but he sees something flash in Alhaitham’s expression as his lips curve into a devilish crescent.

“Just a minute? How remarkable. I’ll make the most of that information then.”

“W-wait, now just wait a minute–”

This man might truly be the death of him one day. If that’s the way he goes out, Kaveh isn’t sure he minds.