[ kaveh's head turns. alhaitham's claws tighten, first on reflex, and then with the careful understanding that only one person's blood need be drawn. kaveh's scent is honey-sweet and of a profusely blooming spring. a moral man is not meant to resist it. but alhaitham, who has never considered himself a mere mortal man, is not yet unmade. kaveh's head turns, and alhaitham considers his options.
the first one, he discards for blood. the second for the potential for injury. the third is discarded because it would take to long, with too little effect, a prolonging of distress with variables that are not within alhaitham's control. kaveh's first heat. omegas who have never experienced heats before have attested to the lengthening of days, of a potency unlike anything they had experienced before and since, of a deep, cloying sear that burned away what little rationality that alpha scholars ascribed to them. alhaitham, who has only ever believed in their objective account, looks to kaveh and thinks - not kaveh, never kaveh.
the fourth option, then. alhaitham tears a second packet with his teeth. he downs the powder. and then, with careful hands, turns kaveh's face back to face him. alhaitham kisses him. the twist of his head is meant to pry kaveh's mouth open with tongue and teeth. guttural rumble is but an afterthought, a clamour of desire, an epitaph to victory.
the iron of blood and the bitter of mugwort - and the mawkish taste of honey. ]
no subject
the first one, he discards for blood. the second for the potential for injury. the third is discarded because it would take to long, with too little effect, a prolonging of distress with variables that are not within alhaitham's control. kaveh's first heat. omegas who have never experienced heats before have attested to the lengthening of days, of a potency unlike anything they had experienced before and since, of a deep, cloying sear that burned away what little rationality that alpha scholars ascribed to them. alhaitham, who has only ever believed in their objective account, looks to kaveh and thinks - not kaveh, never kaveh.
the fourth option, then. alhaitham tears a second packet with his teeth. he downs the powder. and then, with careful hands, turns kaveh's face back to face him. alhaitham kisses him. the twist of his head is meant to pry kaveh's mouth open with tongue and teeth. guttural rumble is but an afterthought, a clamour of desire, an epitaph to victory.
the iron of blood and the bitter of mugwort - and the mawkish taste of honey. ]