Work Text:
Alhaitham stared at the blank pages of the ancient tome. The ink had simply vanished. Every book in his collection, every scroll, every note he’d painstakingly annotated over the years. The Akademiya’s archives were similarly afflicted; scholars wandered the halls in panic while the Scribe sat in his darkened office, fingers tracing empty parchment like a blind man trying to remember light.
He couldn’t read. The one thing that had always grounded him, the pure transfer of knowledge without the mess of human variables, was gone.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ 𐂂 ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Days passed by.
Magical residue? None. Sabotage? Unlikely, too widespread and too specific. Alhaitham withdrew further, speaking even less than usual, his mind circling the same futile loop.
Until the evening he came home earlier than expected.
Kaveh was sprawled on the living room divan in nothing but loose linen pants, one arm slung over his eyes, complaining aloud to no one about yet another rejected commission. The golden light of the setting sun poured through the window and across his bare torso.
And there, drifting across Kaveh’s skin like living tattoos, were the letters.
Delicate, elegant script of Alhaitham’s own notes from The Flora of Sumeru’s Western Slopes curving along the architect’s collarbone. A passage from Inuzaka’s Treatise on Elemental Resonance spiraled down his ribs. Theorems, poetry, historical records, all of them migrating across Kaveh’s body.
Alhaitham froze in the doorway.
Kaveh cracked one eye open. “You’re back early—hey, what’s with that face? You look like you’ve seen a—” He glanced down at himself and yelped, bolting upright. The text shifted with the movement, a footnote sliding gracefully over his hip. “What the—?! Get it off me!”
Alhaitham stepped closer, eyes narrowed in academic fascination rather than concern. He reached out and traced a line of text along Kaveh’s shoulder. The ink rippled under his fingertip like water.
“Fascinating,” he murmured. “The characters respond to touch. And look, here’s the missing segment from the damaged Ruin Guard schematics. Right above your left pectoral.”
Kaveh’s face flushed. “This is not the time for scholarly appreciation, you dense—” He swatted Alhaitham’s hand away, only for the motion to send another paragraph drifting down his spine. “Why is this happening? And why me?!”
Alhaitham’s gaze lingered a second too long on the way the ancient Sumeru glyphs followed the curve of Kaveh’s waist. For once, the frustration of losing his books was tempered by something far more dangerous: intrigue.
“Because,” he said slowly, “knowledge always seeks the most efficient vessel. Apparently, paper was no longer sufficient.” He tilted his head. “Hold still. I need to read chapter seven.”
Kaveh made a strangled noise somewhere between outrage and embarrassment. “You are not using my body as a personal library!”
But Alhaitham was already leaning in, close enough that his breath ghosted over living text, eyes looking with that familiar intensity.
“On the contrary,” he replied, lips brushing just beneath a particularly elegant theorem, “I think this arrangement has certain advantages.”
The letters on Kaveh’s skin glowed brighter.
Kaveh’s protest died in his throat. He knew that look in Alhaitham’s eyes, the one that said the Scribe had found a new puzzle worth dissecting, and nothing short of a Cataclysm would stop him.
Despite the sheer absurdity of it all and the way his pulse thudded against his ribs where ancient theorems still danced across his skin, Kaveh exhaled shakily and muttered, “Fine. Just… get it over with. But don’t make it weird.”
His skin was already flushed a deep rose, the color spreading from his cheeks down his neck and chest, making the drifting letters stand out even more vividly. Every time Alhaitham’s gaze lingered, Kaveh felt impossibly exposed.
Alhaitham’s lips curved in the faintest smirk. “Define ‘weird.’”
“Ugh—never mind. Just read.” Kaveh turned his face away, mortified. “Actually… my back. Read my back instead. Less… front.”
Without a word, Alhaitham slid his hands beneath Kaveh and flipped him over onto his stomach with effortless strength. The architect let out a startled grunt as his chest pressed into the divan cushions, arms folding beneath his head. The motion was smooth, and suddenly the position felt anything but academic.
Kaveh was stretched out beneath him, bare back exposed, the loose pants riding dangerously low on his hips. Alhaitham knelt over him, one knee braced beside Kaveh’s thigh, the other leg caging him in.
The weight of Alhaitham’s body was close enough to radiate heat without fully pinning him down. The evening light spilled across Kaveh’s shoulders, illuminating entire paragraphs that had migrated there, dense scholarly prose flowing along the elegant line of his spine, footnotes curling teasingly just above the dimples at his lower back.
Alhaitham’s breath hitched, barely audible.
“…This is ridiculous,” Kaveh mumbled into his arms, voice muffled and embarrassed. His ears burned. “You’re literally treating me like an open book. I can feel you staring.”
“Because the text is clearest here,” Alhaitham replied. He leaned down, one hand bracing beside Kaveh’s ribcage while the other traced slowly along a line of text near his shoulder blade. The touch was feather-light, impersonal in intent, yet the way his fingertips followed the curve of muscle made it feel anything but.
Kaveh shivered. The letters seemed to brighten under the contact, rearranging themselves slightly as if welcoming the attention.
“Chapter seven begins here,” Alhaitham murmured against the nape of Kaveh’s neck. His lips were inches from warm skin as he began to read aloud, the words vibrating through both of them. Every syllable brushed against Kavehʼs skin, “ ‘…the resonance between elemental matrices reveals a hidden symmetry—’ ”
Kaveh bit his lip to stifle a sound that definitely wasn’t scholarly. The position felt far too intimate for something as innocent as decoding lost texts. Every exhale from Alhaitham ghosted over his spine. Every subtle movement made the architect hyper-aware of how trapped he was beneath that focused gaze.
“Stop breathing on me like that,” Kaveh whispered, half-plea, half-complaint. His fingers curled into the cushion.
Alhaitham paused, thumb idly stroking along a particularly flowing sentence that disappeared beneath the waistband of Kaveh’s pants.
“I need better lighting,” he said calmly, though the slight hoarseness in his voice betrayed him. “And perhaps, a closer view.”
His hand slid lower, following the text.
Kaveh’s flush deepened until he was sure even his back was burning. “Alhaitham…”
Kaveh’s breath came in short, shaky bursts.
“Alhaitham, stop.” His voice cracked as the scribe’s fingers dipped lower, tracing a line of text that vanished beneath the edge of his pants. The touch sent sparks racing across his skin.
“I said stop!”
Alhaitham paused, lips still drifting near the nape of Kaveh’s neck, but the architect bucked beneath him with sudden force. He scrambled off the divan in a tangle of limbs and lingering embarrassment. His face was scarlet; the living letters shifting wildly across his torso as if reacting to his panic.
“This is insane. You’re insane,” Kaveh hissed, snatching his shirt from the floor and bolting toward the door. “I’m not your personal scroll!”
He didn’t wait for a reply. The door slammed behind him.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ 𐂂 ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The next day, after a brief and chaotic commission meeting, Kaveh slipped away from the Akademiya district. His skin still crawled with the phantom sensation of drifting ink and Alhaitham’s breath. The texts hadn’t faded. If anything, they seemed more active, paragraphs rearranging themselves across his ribs and back whenever he moved.
He needed help. Someone logical, someone knowledgeable about strange biological or magical phenomena.
So he looked for that person.
Kaveh found Tighnari near the outskirts of Sumeru City, speaking with Cyno beside a quiet grove of trees. The Forest Watcher was gesturing at some plant samples while the General Mahamatra listened with crossed arms.
“Tighnari! Perfect timing,” Kaveh called out, jogging over. “I need you to look at something. It’s urgent. And weird. Really weird.”
Tighnari tilted his ears. “You look flushed. Are you ill?”
“Not exactly.” Kaveh glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby, then exhaled sharply. “Just… don’t freak out.”
He pulled his shirt off, exposing his upper body to the warm afternoon air. Golden script flowed across his chest and abdomen, shifting lazily over his skin like living tattoos. A particularly long passage curled around his left pectoral and down toward his navel.
Both Tighnari and Cyno froze.
Tighnari’s eyes widened, fox ears perking straight up. “By the Archons… what is this?”
Cyno’s usual stoic expression cracked into open surprise, his gaze raking slowly over the moving text. “This is highly irregular. Is it cursed? Parasitic?”
Kaveh stood there awkwardly, arms half-raised, cheeks burning under their intense scrutiny. “I don’t know! It started yesterday. All the books lost their ink and now it’s… on me. Alhaitham thinks it’s fascinating. I think I’m losing my mind.”
Tighnari stepped closer, professional curiosity overtaking shock as he examined the flowing script without touching. “The characters are responding to your body heat and movement. Remarkable. The ink seems to be migrating toward areas of higher blood flow.”
Cyno, ever the pragmatist, reached out and laid two fingers against Kaveh’s chest, right where a theorem on elemental matrices shimmered. The touch was of pure curiosity, tracing the line of text as it drifted beneath his fingertips. Kaveh shivered despite himself.
“Does it react to external stimuli?” Cyno asked, eyes focused. His fingers slid slowly downward, following the paragraph. “Any pain? Changes in legibility?”
“N-no, it’s just… tingly,” Kaveh muttered, mortified at how exposed he felt under their combined stares.
Tighnari leaned in from the other side, ears twitching as he studied a cluster of text near Kaveh’s collarbone. “Fascinating. The syntax improves when—”
A sharp voice cut through the air.
“Having fun?”
Alhaitham stood a few paces away. His gaze locked onto Cyno’s hand still resting on Kaveh’s bare chest, then slowly traveled across the architect’s flushed skin.
Kaveh yelped and tried to cover himself, but it was far too late. The letters on his body seemed to glow brighter, almost smugly.
The architect froze. “It’s not—! I was just getting a second opinion!”
Tighnari straightened quickly, ears flattening. Cyno withdrew his hand, but not before giving one last curious tap to a glowing glyph, as if testing its resilience.
Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed. “I see. And did the General Mahamatra find my notes enlightening?” He stepped forward, voice deceptively calm. “Step aside. Some sections are very delicate.”
Kaveh clutched his shirt to his chest again, backing up a step. “Alhaitham, I swear if you turn this into another ‘reading session’ in front of them—”
But the Scribe was already closing the distance.
The tension in the clearing thickened for a moment. Kaveh looked mortified, still clutching his shirt like a lifeline. Cyno slowly withdrew his hand, while Tighnari’s ears flicked back in mild embarrassment at being caught so intently focused.
Alhaitham’s voice remained level, but the edge was unmistakable. “A second opinion. Of course.”
Kaveh groaned. “Can we not do this here? Let’s just… sit down and figure this out like civilized people.”
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ 𐂂 ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The four of them eventually sat down on a cluster of large roots and fallen logs near the ranger outpost. Kaveh had reluctantly put his shirt back on after much protest, but the fabric did little to hide the way glowing lines of text peeked out at his collar and wrists.
Tighnari was the first to speak, tail swishing thoughtfully. “This isn’t a simple curse. The script behaves like a living archive, migrating to areas of higher vitality. Your body heat, circulation, and perhaps emotional state seem to influence how clearly the text appears.”
Cyno nodded. “It chose Kaveh specifically. There must be a reason. Compatibility? Some ancient resonance between your elemental signature and the preserved knowledge?”
Kaveh groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Can we not talk about my ‘vitality’ and ‘compatibility’ like I’m a test subject? This is humiliating enough.”
Alhaitham sat beside him, posture relaxed but with a sharp edge in his gaze. He hadn’t stopped watching the other two since he arrived.
Tighnari leaned forward, ears perked with clear scientific interest. “I’d like to inspect closer, if you’ll allow it. We could map the migration patterns, test responses to different stimuli—temperature, pressure, perhaps even specific frequencies of sound. Remove your shirt again. It would only take a few minutes.”
Kaveh’s face burned. Before he could answer, Alhaitham smoothly interjected.
“Unfortunately, that won’t be possible right now.” His voice was calm, almost bored, but the look he gave Tighnari was anything but. “Kaveh is needed back at the house. We have urgent work to complete on the latest commission. The client requires revisions by tomorrow, and my reference materials are currently only legible on him.”
Kaveh shot him a betrayed glare. “You said the client pushed the deadline back two weeks!”
“Did I?” Alhaitham tilted his head, the picture of innocence. “My memory must be faulty without proper access to the texts. We should return immediately so I can finish reading the relevant sections.”
Cyno raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You were reading him quite thoroughly yesterday, from what Kaveh described.”
Tighnari’s ears twitched in mild amusement. “A joint examination would be more efficient. Three scholars are better than one, Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham stood, already reaching down to pull Kaveh up by the wrist with surprising gentleness. “Efficiency is best achieved through focused effort. I’ve already begun systematic documentation. Interfering now would only disrupt the data.” His thumb brushed lightly over the inside of Kaveh’s wrist where a faint line of script was visible, making the architect jolt.
Kaveh stumbled to his feet, cheeks still flushed. “I—I should probably go with him. Before he decides to ‘read’ me in the middle of the forest or something…”
Tighnari looked mildly disappointed but nodded. “I see. In that case, please monitor any changes. If the text starts to fade or causes discomfort, bring him to me immediately. I’ll prepare some stabilizing herbs in the meantime.”
Kaveh opened his mouth to argue, but Alhaitham was already standing, gently but insistently pulling him up by the elbow.
“We’ll keep you updated,” Alhaitham said, voice perfectly polite. “Thank you for your insight.”
As they walked away from the outpost, Kaveh hissed under his breath, “Why did we have to leave right away? Didnʼt you want them to see it or are you just messing with me right now?!”
Alhaitham didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned in closer and whispered against Kaveh’s ear as they moved deeper into the shaded path.
“Correct. Some sections are for my eyes only.” His fingers brushed the small of Kaveh’s back through the shirt, right where he remembered a dense footnote had settled earlier. “Now, about chapter seven… we left off at a very intriguing symmetry.”
Kaveh’s flush returned in full force, but he didn’t pull away.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ 𐂂 ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kaveh let out a long, defeated sigh as soon as the front door clicked shut behind them.
“Fine. Letʼs get this over with. Just read what you need to read and leave me alone after. I’d rather you do it than stick with me like a ghost for the rest of the week making passive-aggressive comments about ‘incomplete knowledge.’”
Alhaitham’s only reply was a small, satisfied hum.
They ended up in the bedroom because the lighting was better and the bed was large enough for Kaveh to lie comfortably. Kaveh stripped off his shirt, face already burning, and flopped down onto his stomach. He buried his face in his folded arms and grumbled into the pillow.
“No staring at anything unnecessary. And don’t breathe on my neck like last time.”
“As you wish.”
Alhaitham settled beside him, half-reclined against the headboard with one leg stretched out. The position let him hover over Kaveh’s back like a scholar at a rare manuscript. His fingers traced the flowing lines of text.
At first, Kaveh tried to stay alert, occasionally muttering complaints when Alhaitham lingered too long on certain passages or when the ink shifted ticklishly under his touch. But the warm weight of his hand resting lightly on his lower back, and the sheer exhaustion from the day’s events began to pull at him.
Minutes stretched into hours. The sun had long since set. Only the light coming from the desk lamp and the ethereal shimmer of the living text illuminated the room.
Alhaitham’s reading had slowed, not from lack of interest but because he was savoring the more complex sections that had migrated near Kaveh’s shoulder blades, murmuring translations of particularly dense theorems under his breath.
Kaveh’s breathing had grown deep and even.
He was fast asleep.
His face was turned toward Alhaitham. The letters on his back continued their gentle migration even in sleep, glowing softly along the elegant curve of his spine.
Alhaitham stopped reading.
For a moment he simply watched, gaze tracing not just the ancient knowledge but the warm skin beneath it, the relaxed line of Kaveh’s shoulders, the way his hair spilled messily across the pillow. The edge that had sharpened earlier softened into something almost fond.
He closed the invisible “book.”
Carefully, so as not to wake him, Alhaitham shifted. He pulled the thin sheet up over Kaveh’s lower body, then brushed a few stray strands of hair away from his face. He eased Kaveh more fully onto the bed, turning him just enough to settle him comfortably on his side. The text on his chest and back continued to shimmer peacefully in the light.
He lay down beside him, mirroring Kaveh’s position on his side. The room was quiet save for Kaveh’s breaths. Alhaitham’s gaze drifted across the script covering his back and shoulders. The text had grown calmer, pulsing faintly in time with Kaveh’s heartbeat.
After several minutes of quiet observation, Alhaitham’s eyes lifted higher.
He studied Kaveh’s sleeping face, his relaxed brow, his lashes, and the soft parting of his lips. A single stray lock of blond hair had fallen across his cheek. There were no letters visible on his face yet.
Alhaitham wondered, what it would take for the script to migrate there. The thought was strangely intimate. If the text appeared on Kaveh’s face, along his jaw, across his cheekbones, perhaps even brushing the edge of those long lashes, then maybe, Kaveh would finally allow him to look at him directly for as long as he wanted.
No more turning away in embarrassment. No more hiding behind cushions or bolting for the door.
He would be able to read every line while watching Kaveh’s expressions change in real time.
Of course, Alhaitham already knew how that conversation would go.
“Stop staring at my face, you weirdo! Just read my back like usual!”
The corner of Alhaitham’s mouth curved. He reached out and gently brushed the stray hair away from Kaveh’s cheek, his thumb lingering a second longer than necessary. Even without text, this view felt like forbidden knowledge, something far more precious than any ancient tome.
“Perhaps tomorrow,” Alhaitham murmured under his breath. “We’ll see how far the text is willing to travel.”
Kaveh made a small, sleepy sound and unconsciously pressed back into the touch. Alhaitham closed his eyes, letting the living library rest beside him, face peaceful and bare of script under the moonlight.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ 𐂂 ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kaveh stirred as the first rays of morning light poured in. He felt surprisingly well-rested despite the strange circumstances. Alhaitham was already gone from the bed, likely buried in some corner with a blank notebook, trying to recreate lost notes.
He stretched, yawned, and went about his usual routine. A quick change of clothes, then a much-needed bath to wash away the lingering awkwardness of yesterday.
After soaking for a while, Kaveh stepped out of the tub and stood in front of the full-length mirror, towel slung low around his hips. He was about to reach for his shirt when he froze.
The text on his body had changed.
Gone were the dense academic theorems, ancient runes, and scholarly footnotes. In their place was elegant, flowing handwriting, unmistakably Alhaitham’s personal script. It looked like entries from a private journal, written in neat, measured lines that followed the contours of his chest, shoulders, and torso.
Kaveh’s eyes widened. He leaned closer to the mirror, turning slowly to read the mirrored text.
The entries were dated.
· · · · · · · · · · ·
“Day 12 – Met that loud, idealistic blond again in the lecture hall. Kaveh. His arguments are naive, yet annoyingly difficult to dismiss outright. He has potential.”
“Day 238 – Partnered with him for the joint research project. His designs are extravagant and impractical, but they work. I find myself watching him more than the calculations.”
· · · · · · · · · · ·
Kaveh’s breath caught. He twisted to read further down his ribs, cheeks already heating up.
· · · · · · · · · · ·
“Day 243 – He laughed at one of my dry remarks today. The sound lingered longer than it should have. This is inefficient.”
“Day 365 - He called me heartless. Cold. I let him storm out. It was the logical outcome. Yet the silence in the library feels heavier now.”
· · · · · · · · · · ·
The entries continued, spanning years in fragmented thoughts. Some were short observations, others longer reflections. All of them about him. Kaveh’s heart pounded as he read backwards in the mirror, piecing together a timeline of hidden sentiment hidden behind Alhaitham’s usual stoicism.
He turned further, trying to catch the most recent entry near his left collarbone. The ink here looked fresher, the handwriting slightly less controlled.
But then, a sharp knock on the bathroom door made Kaveh jump violently.
“Kaveh. You’ve been in there long enough. Breakfast is ready, and we still have several unread chapters to get through.”
Alhaitham’s calm voice filtered through the wood.
Kaveh slapped a hand over the latest entry on his collarbone, face burning red. His pulse roared in his ears.
“I—I’ll be out in a minute!” he called back, voice cracking slightly.
He stared at his reflection, the journal entries still drifting subtly across his damp skin. The latest line remained unfinished, teasing him.
What had Alhaitham been about to write?
Kaveh stared at the mirror for another moment, heart still racing. The unfinished entry on his collarbone felt far too dangerous to leave exposed. If Alhaitham saw even a glimpse of his own private thoughts written across Kaveh’s skin… he’d never hear the end of it.
He quickly dressed in a loose, high-collared shirt and draped a light scarf around his neck, adjusting it carefully until the fabric fully covered his collarbone and upper chest. It was warmer than necessary for the Sumeru morning, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t risk it.
At the breakfast table, the two sat across from each other in their usual tense silence. Kaveh kept one hand near his scarf, tugging it higher whenever he leaned forward. He ate stiffly, eyes darting anywhere but at Alhaitham.
Alhaitham noticed immediately.
“You’re fidgeting,” he observed flatly, taking a sip of coffee. “And wearing a scarf indoors. Are you feverish?”
“I’m fine,” Kaveh muttered, a little too quickly. He reached across the table for a plate of flatbread, stretching his arm out.
The scarf slipped just a few centimeters, but it was enough. A sliver of fresh ink peeked out from beneath the fabric, the elegant handwriting unmistakably Alhaitham’s. His eyes sharpened.
Alhaitham reached across the table and caught Kaveh’s wrist, pulling him slightly off-balance. His other hand moved without thinking, hooking two fingers under the edge of the scarf and sliding it down Kaveh’s shoulder.
Kaveh yelped. “Hey—!”
The latest entry was now fully visible.
· · · · · · · · · · ·
“He frustrates me, yet I love him.”
· · · · · · · · · · ·
Alhaitham went completely still.
He recognized the words instantly. He had written them, for sure, the quiet confession he had never intended for anyone, least of all Kaveh, to ever see.
Kaveh’s face burned scarlet. He tried to pull away, but Alhaitham’s grip on his wrist remained firm, though not painful.
“You… read it,” Alhaitham said quietly. His voice was calm, but there was a rare surprise and vulnerability.
“I didn’t mean to!” Kaveh stammered, free hand clutching at the scarf. “The academic text was gone this morning and it turned into… this. Your journal. I was just curious, and then you knocked and—”
He trailed off, mortified.
Alhaitham’s gaze lingered on the confession still glowing softly on Kaveh’s skin. Slowly, his thumb brushed over the line, feeling the faint warmth of living ink.
“…I see,” he murmured.
For once, the Scribe seemed at a loss for his usual dry wit. His eyes lifted from the text to Kaveh’s flushed face, searching.
Kaveh swallowed hard. “Say something, damn it. Don’t just stare like that…”
Alhaitham leaned in closer across the table, still holding his wrist.
“Would you believe me if I told you every word is accurate?” he asked. “Or will you call me heartless again and run?”
Kaveh’s face burned hotter than the desert sun. He yanked his wrist, but Alhaitham didn’t let go. Instead, the Scribe’s grip loosened into something gentler.
“I—I didn’t read the last part!” Kaveh blurted out, the lie tumbling desperately from his lips in an attempt to salvage whatever dignity he had left. “I barely saw anything before you knocked and dragged me out here. So whatever you think is written there, it’s probably not—”
Alhaitham’s eyes looked back down to the fresh script on Kaveh’s exposed collarbone. The corner of his mouth twitched.
“‘He frustrates me, yet I love him,’” he read aloud, as if reciting one of his dry academic texts.
Kaveh froze. The words hung between them.
Alhaitham’s gaze lifted slowly to meet Kaveh’s wide eyes. “You were saying?”
The architect opened and closed his mouth, utterly speechless for once. The confession sat there on his own skin, glowing softly like it had been waiting for this exact moment.
Without another word, Alhaitham rose from his seat and rounded the table. He stopped in front of Kaveh, then gently tilted his chin up with two fingers. His other hand moved to the exposed collarbone, thumb caressing the elegant script. The letters brightened under his touch, pulsing warmly against Kaveh’s flushed skin.
Kaveh shivered. “Alhaitham…”
“Shh.” Alhaitham leaned down, breath ghosting over the words first, then pressed his lips directly to the confession. The kiss was soft, lingering, almost worshipful. His mouth brushed against the living ink as if sealing it. Kaveh’s breath hitched sharply at the intimate contact.
Alhaitham pulled back just enough to speak.
“I love you,” he confessed again. “You are loud, impractical, and endlessly disruptive. You turn my perfectly ordered life into chaos every single day. And yet… I love you. I have for a long time.”
The script on Kaveh’s collarbone shimmered brighter, the words “yet I love him” glowing with fresh intensity. Alhaitham’s thumb continued its gentle caress, tracing each letter as though memorizing them.
Kaveh’s eyes glistened. He let out a shaky breath.
“You… idiot,” he whispered, voice thick. One hand came up to clutch Alhaitham’s shirt. “Saying something like that while the proof is literally written on my body…”
Alhaitham kissed the script one more time, then trailed his lips upward along Kaveh’s neck until he reached his ear.
“Would you like me to write the rest of the entry somewhere else?” he murmured, the faintest hint of a smirk in his voice. “Perhaps somewhere only I will ever read?”
Kaveh’s ears turned crimson, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he tugged Alhaitham closer, scarf completely forgotten on the floor.
What started as desperate relief quickly turned hungry. Hands clutched at shirts, mouths moved with growing urgency, and Alhaitham kissed him like he had been starving for years.
They barely made it to the bedroom. Kaveh’s back hit the doorframe on the way in, then the edge of the bed. Clothes were shed in a messy trail across the floor. Alhaitham’s fingers worked open the last of Kaveh’s buttons and slid the fabric off his shoulders, letting it drop.
The full sight of Kaveh’s bare body stopped him for a moment.
Every inch of visible skin was covered in Alhaitham’s own private journal entries. Old observations, quiet frustrations, fleeting moments of fondness, and deeper feelings—all written across Kaveh’s chest, abdomen, hips, and thighs. The words moved slowly under Alhaitham’s gaze.
Alhaitham’s ears flushed a rare shade of pink. “...This is far more exposing than I expected.”
Kaveh, flushed all the way down to his chest, tried to cover himself with his arms. “Then stop staring like that and do something already, you—”
Alhaitham silenced him with another kiss, pushing him gently onto the bed. He shed his own shirt and climbed over him, settling between Kaveh’s spread legs.
He slicked his fingers and pressed one inside slowly, then two, working Kaveh open with focused patience while his eyes kept drifting across the text. Kaveh was panting, one arm thrown over his eyes in embarrassment.
Alhaitham’s gaze landed on a particular entry along the curve of Kaveh’s hip, near where his thigh met his body. His fingers curled just right at the same moment he read the line, and suddenly a genuine laugh escaped him.
Kaveh’s eyes flew open. “Wh-what’s so funny?! Don’t laugh while you’re— ah— inside me!”
Alhaitham’s shoulders shook with restrained amusement even as he continued the slow, careful movement of his fingers. He leaned down and kissed the offending passage, lips brushing the ink.
“‘Day 78,’” he read aloud between soft thrusts of his fingers. “‘Kaveh spent twenty minutes ranting about my personality. He called me a ‘walking emotional void with nice shoulders.’ Then he stared at my shoulders for another ten minutes while pretending to sketch. I have never been so annoyed and flattered at the same time. This is ridiculous.’”
Kaveh made a mortified noise and covered his face with both hands. “Delete that entry! Burn it off my skin right now— I hate you!”
“You do not,” Alhaitham replied calmly, adding a third finger and watching with satisfaction as Kaveh arched and moaned. He kissed the same spot again, then moved his lips higher, following another line. “And I’m glad these entries exist. They prove I’ve been yours far longer than you realized.”
He crooked his fingers again, intentionally brushing that sensitive spot while reading another fragment aloud.
Kaveh’s embarrassed whine melted into a shaky gasp.
“Alhaitham… you absolute bastard…” he breathed, but his hips rolled down onto Alhaitham’s hand, chasing the pleasure despite the humiliation.
The text across his body glowed brighter with every touch, every confession finally laid bare between them.
Alhaitham finally withdrew his fingers, leaving Kaveh clenching around nothing. He sat back on his heels as he unlaced his own pants and freed his cock.
Kaveh’s eyes widened.
It was… intimidatingly big, thick, and it rested heavy against Kaveh’s stomach. The length and girth genuinely looked close to the size of his forearm. The head already glistened with precum, and it twitched visibly when Alhaitham wrapped a hand around it and gave it a slow stroke.
Kaveh swallowed hard, suddenly much less confident.
“Wait— hold on,” he stammered, voice cracking. “That’s… that’s not going to fit. Alhaitham, that thing is the size of my arm. My arm. You’re going to break me—”
Alhaitham smirked, though his breathing was noticeably heavier. He leaned down, caging Kaveh beneath him, and rubbed the thick head of his cock against the slick, loosened entrance.
“You were loose enough for three fingers,” he murmured. “And you took them beautifully. You’ll take me too.”
Kaveh let out a shaky, nervous laugh, staring down between their bodies with wide eyes. The sheer size pressing against his hole made his stomach tighten with a mix of fear and shameful arousal. One of the journal entries on his inner thigh glowed brighter, an old passage about how distractingly attractive Kaveh looked when flustered.
“I’m serious! That’s going to split me in half— Ah—!”
Alhaitham silenced him with a deep kiss, one hand gently pinning Kaveh’s wrist beside his head while the other guided his cock, nudging insistently against the tight ring of muscle.
“Relax,” he whispered against Kaveh’s lips, nipping the lower one. “I won’t hurt you. Breathe.”
He pushed forward just enough for the thick head to breach the entrance.
Kaveh’s back arched sharply, a broken moan tearing from his throat as he felt himself stretch around the overwhelming girth. The burning stretch was intense, bordering on too much, and the living text across his body flared brightly in response.
“Fuck— it’s too big—!” Kaveh gasped, eyes glassy, one hand flying down to clutch at Alhaitham’s wrist. “Slow… please go slower, you bastard…”
Alhaitham groaned softly, forehead pressed to Kaveh’s, fighting the urge to thrust deeper. His voice was strained but still carried that infuriating scholarly tone.
“Look at the text on your stomach,” he murmured, rolling his hips in shallow, careful movements. “It says here I’ve wanted this for years. Try to relax and let me in, Kaveh… I’ll make it worth the fear.”
Kaveh’s eyes were glued between their bodies, wide with a mix of shock and overwhelming arousal.
Every inch that Alhaitham pushed into him created a visible bulge in his lower abdomen. The thick outline of Alhaitham’s cock pressed upward against his insides, stretching him so obscenely that Kaveh could literally see it moving under his skin, as if it wanted to tear its way out of him. The journal entries around his belly shimmered wildly, distorting and glowing brighter with every throb.
“Archons— I can see it…” Kaveh whimpered, voice breaking. “It’s so deep— you’re going to ruin me—”
Alhaitham groaned in his throat, eyes dark as he watched the same obscene bulge. He rolled his hips forward another inch, savoring the tight heat and the way Kaveh’s body clenched around him.
“Thatʼs good then,” he murmured, voice rough with restraint. “Iʼm going even deeper.”
He gave one firm thrust, bottoming out completely.
Kaveh’s whole body seized. The overwhelming pressure against his prostate, combined with the sight of his own belly bulging, pushed him over the edge without warning. He cried out sharply as he squirted hard. Clear fluid shot from his cock in powerful, messy spurts that splattered across Alhaitham’s cheek, lips, and chest.
Alhaitham stilled for a second, then slowly licked the cum off his lower lip. His eyes never left Kaveh’s mortified face.
“Messy,” he said. He leaned down and kissed Kaveh deeply, letting him taste himself, while starting a slow rhythm with his hips.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ 𐂂 ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
They went at it for hours.
Alhaitham fucked him through one orgasm after another. He took Kaveh on his back, on his stomach, and finally with Kaveh riding him, hands braced on Alhaitham’s chest while the bulge in his abdomen rose and fell visibly with every bounce.
The text across Kaveh’s body glowed brighter with every climax, sentences shifting and rearranging as if drunk on pleasure. Old confessions mixed with new ones appearing in real time under Alhaitham’s hands.
By the time the moon was high in the sky, Kaveh was a trembling, covered in bite marks, fingerprints, and his own release. Alhaitham finally came deep inside him, filling him until it leaked out around his still-hard cock.
They collapsed together, sweat-slick and breathing heavily. Alhaitham pulled Kaveh against his chest, one hand tracing a glowing line of text along the architect’s thigh.
“…Stay like this,” Alhaitham whispered against his hair, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to his temple. “The entries look best when you’re flushed and full of me.”
Kaveh could only manage a weak, breathless laugh before hiding his burning face in Alhaitham’s neck.
“You’re never reading me again after tonight…” he mumbled, even as his body curled closer.
Alhaitham smiled against his skin.
“We’ll see.”