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This is, perhaps, the dumbest idea Kaveh has ever had.
Which, in Alhaitham’s completely one-hundred-percent sober opinion is saying something, given that Kaveh is full of nothing if not dumb ideas.
But this one is up there, for sure. Top three at least. The Light of Kshahrewar’s inane brilliance shining in reckless glory right next to accepting a loan from Dori and buying keychains for non-existent hungry orphans.
Alhaitham stumbles slightly as the four of them enter the House of Daena, accidentally knocking over some poor scholar in the middle of studying.
“Oh, apologies,” he says, reaching out a hand.
“Pssst! Haitham!” Tighnari whisper-yells at him. “Stop talking to the plant and pick it up, you big lummox!”
Alhaitham blinks down at the plant he knocked over. Oh. Maybe he’s not that sober. But really, who’s completely sober after a few bottles of Mondstadt’s finest?
“Hmph, plant or not, watch where you’re walking,” Alhaitham grumbles down at it.
The others are already halfway across the bridge leading to the elevator. Alhaitham catches up with them quickly, following Cyno as he takes the group past it, to the furthest table like an absolute coward.
Not that Alhaitham blames him.
“Why are there so many people here?” Cyno hisses, shooting a glare over his shoulder at Kaveh.
Alhaitham would forgive Cyno for thinking it would be empty, and in the past it might have been. But now, with the Akasha down, scholars are studying at all hours of the night, sometimes camping out for days at a time for a turn with a popular book or manuscript.
The library, while not packed, houses quite a few students for three in the morning. Cyno slides into one of the far chairs, his headpiece doing a great deal to hide his flushed cheeks. Kaveh, knowing that this is entirely his fault, wisely sits as far from Cyno as possible, and Alhaitham—in a move of truly inspired, sadistic genius—takes the seat directly next to Cyno.
Front row tickets to the show, as it were.
A single sweeping glance of the room reveals that no one is paying them any mind. That, or they’re all too afraid of incurring the wrath of the Acting Grand Sage and General Mahamatra. Cyno, of course, would have already confirmed this for himself when selecting a table. He’s good at his job after all, and while the dare may or may not be legal, strictly speaking, it is absolutely morally reprehensible.
“We don’t have all night you know,” Kaveh says, which earns him another glare from Cyno. “Need some liquid courage?”
Kaveh waggles his eyebrows and flashes a peak at the flask he has hidden in his breast pocket.
“Are we sure that’s a good idea?” Tighnari asks. “That Mondstadt wine was fairly strong, and I still don’t trust the little bard we got it from.”
“Hand it over,” Cyno says flatly.
He reaches across the table, palm up, until Kaveh gives him the flask. Then, he looks around quickly to make sure no one is watching before taking a giant swig of whatever toxic concoction Kaveh is carrying around with him. Predictably, Cyno chokes on it, sputtering, eyes wide as he fights to swallow the unidentified spirit.
A few students glance over at the disruption before returning to their work.
“What the abyss is that!?” He rasps, patting himself on the chest.
Kaveh and Tighnari burst into a fit of giggles, and Alhaitham grabs the flask, taking a cautious sniff and then a small sip.
“Snezhnayan fire water,” he says.
He can appreciate the burn of it, so different from the sweet wine that had brought them to this point. Clean, strong flavor, more alcohol than the wine by a volume of at least 25% if he had to guess. Already he can feel his head swimming, warmth settling into his veins. Alhaitham takes another drink before setting it on the table.
“Let the record show I offered my office.” Alhaitham gestures vaguely toward the ceiling and, by extension, the Grand Sage’s office.
“No!” Kaveh says, leaning over the table and pointing at him. “A dare is a dare and I said in public. That cushy office of yours doesn’t count.”
“Tell that to the many people who see fit to visit throughout the day,” Alhaitham says. “It’s like their singular goal is to ensure I am in a constant state of mental anguish.”
The other three roll their eyes at him, Kaveh groaning unsympathetically. “Oh boo hoo. My point is, would anyone actually be brave enough to visit your office after your sacred posted hours?”
“Hmph. Fair point,” Alhaitham concedes. “I would rip them apart… if not through physical violence then through vicious rhetoric.”
Cyno hums, glaring a hole through Kaveh. “Physical violence sounds tempting at the moment…”
“Now, now children,” Tighnari says. “You know, you could have chosen ‘Truth’ rather than play along with this.”
Cyno stiffens.
No, he couldn’t have, Alhaitham thinks. Because Alhaitham knows Kaveh, as does Cyno. If he had chosen ‘Truth’ rather than ‘Dare’ then the very next question would have been something ungodly like ‘have you ever pleasured yourself while thinking of someone in this room?’ And there’s an 87.3% chance the answer is yes and the subject of said fantasy is Tighnari.
There’s also a 12.7% chance the answer is yes and the subject is... well, Alhaitham’s not quite drunk enough to examine that yet.
“What’s wrong?” Kaveh asks. “You have that look on your face like you’re doing math in your head.”
“Do not,” Alhaitham says, purely because he doesn't like how well Kaveh can read him.
“Do too.”
“ Your assertion hinges on the idea that they teach mathematics in Haravatat.”
“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” Kaveh says dismissively, grabbing the flask and taking a drink.
Alhaitham raises a brow. “One, put down the flask before you drunkenly design another Palace of Alcazarzaray and profess your hatred for me on the public message boards. And two, I am actually a delight to be around.”
“Hah! Really, a delight? You two,” he snaps his fingers at Tighnari and Cyno. “Back me up here.”
“He’s quite delightful,” Cyno deadpans, because he’s mad enough at Kaveh to take Alhaitham’s side.
Alhaitham smiles smugly, reaching across to pluck the flask from him.
“You heard the man. Delightful.”
Tighnari interrupts them. “This dare, is there a time limit?”
Kaveh hums, tapping his chin. “Let’s say… twenty minutes.”
Cyno scowls and looks away, his cheeks reddening. “Can you three go sit somewhere else?”
“Nope! Not part of the deal,” Kaveh says.
Tighnari offers a sympathetic smile. “As much as I hate to admit it, Kaveh’s right. If we sit at a different table, it will draw more attention to you. And you could fake it.”
Alhaitham agrees by silently handing Cyno the flask.
Cyno squirms in his seat, face pinching as he takes another swig.
“How am I even supposed to… you know….?”
Kaveh smiles something devious.
“Dear General, are you perhaps in want of some inspiration? You could always look at—” Kaveh starts, and Alhaitham might just be an asshole, but he’s also somewhat loyal and a little bit drunk, so he stomps on Kaveh’s foot under the table before he can reveal Cyno’s not-so-secret crush.
Kaveh yelps and grabs onto his foot. “You are the opposite of a delight!”
Alhaitham narrows his eyes. “Stop teasing him or your next dare will be to sit on a cactus.”
“You know,” Tighnari interjects, “There’s a species of plant in the family Cactaceae known as lophocereus marginatus. If you were to shave down the ridges, you may be able to use one as—”
“Nobody is fucking themselves on a cactus!” Cyno snaps.
An unassuming scholar that was passing by stops to blink at them before hurrying off. This time, when Kaveh and Tighnari laugh, Alhaitham finds it difficult not to join in.
Hmmm, perhaps that fire water is stronger by more than a volume of 25%.
Cyno takes a deep breath, releasing it in a single, long sigh. “Just… warn me if you see anyone coming.”
With a last glance around them, Cyno unceremoniously slips his hand into his shorts, careful not to expose himself just yet. Alhaitham tries his best not to stare, looking on with a kind of faux disinterest that appears more like boredom than whatever is currently stirring in his gut.
Cyno’s fingers move beneath the tight fabric, straining it as they wrap around his cock. He doesn’t look at them, keeping his head down, brows furrowed in concentration while he works to bring himself to hardness.
Alhaitham’s pulse speeds by a fraction. This feels… depraved, lewd, sinful, and through all of it… overwhelmingly arousing. Pure sexual deviance in the way Cyno sinks his teeth into his lip and strokes himself steadily in the middle of the House of Daena. Anyone could walk by, could glance over and see the way sweat beads on his forehead, the heaving of his chest as he fucks into his own fist under the table.
His cock hardens quickly, flushed tip peeking out from his shorts now, a singular drop of precum shining at the apex. Alhaitham isn't the only one paying attention. Kaveh stares openly, all wide eyes like he can’t believe Cyno is actually going through with his dare. And Tighnari—proper, unassuming Tighnari—is pink from his cheeks to his neck, pupils blown wide with lust. His ears twitch, repositioning themselves to pick up every single small noise that falls from Cyno’s lips.
The space around them becomes hot and humid, the culmination of their intermingling breath. Call him a bit of a voyeur, but Alhaitham has to adjust himself in his chair, finding his own cock swelling at the sight.
Cyno’s nipples harden with arousal, unobstructed by the garments that do so little to hide his slutty body. Alhaitham bets he gets off on this, the blatant teasing, stroking himself in public, displaying everything that they're not allowed to touch.
A small moan escapes Cyno, and the others nod. Fuck, maybe Alhaitham voiced those thoughts aloud.
“Like you’re not getting off on this, too,” Kaveh says, confirming it, his hungry eyes turning toward Alhaitham.
Cyno’s breath hitches as he picks up the pace, his legs shaking. His shorts are shoved down further now, granting a wider range of movement. Precum drips down over his knuckles, easing the slide slightly, but it looks less than ideal.
“Does it feel good?” Tighnari asks breathlessly, like it’s a totally normal thing to ask. He manages to reach the flask for himself, fingers twitching as he takes a drink as if he, like Alhaitham, is trying to maintain an air of nonchalance.
Cyno clamps his eyes shut and shakes his head, his hips bucking. “It-it’s not enough,” he says quietly, voice shaking. “T-too dry… don’t think I can come like this…”
Alhaitham is unsure of what possesses him to lean into Cyno’s space. Maybe it’s the wine, or perhaps the fire water. His arm feels heavy as he snakes it around the back of Cyno’s chair, lips numb. Cyno blinks at him owlishly, fist still gripping his cock.
This feels like some sort of precipice, the proverbial point of no return. Alhaitham stares at him with unbridled intensity, deciding whether or not to take a chance on that 12.7% possibility that Cyno wants him in his space, that he’s actively fantasized about what it would be like to chant Alhaitham’s name like a benediction.
Cyno’s eyes drop briefly to Alhaitham’s lips. Good, Alhaitham thinks.
“Let me help you,” he says. And then–without even a hint of shame or hesitation–he spits down onto Cyno’s cock.
It’s unclear if the resulting moan comes from Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, or all three of them. Alhaitham’s head is too fuzzy to care, his attention focused solely on the way Cyno shudders, his bronze fingers spreading Alhaitham’s saliva over his shaft.
Cyno’s lips part on a noise of blissed-out approval. His eyes, alight like the fire burning low in his stomach, are heavy lidded, framed by thick lashes. Alhaitham doesn’t lean away nor pull his arm from the back of Cyno’s chair.
On the other side of the table, Tighnari’s hand slips down, moving to adjust himself. Alhaitham is struck, then, by the heady realization that Kaveh is watching this too. Alhaitham wonders what look he has on his face. Is he shocked? Aroused? Jealous?
The thought alone makes his cock twitch. What Alhaitham wouldn’t give to drive Kaveh to the point of jealousy, to push and push until the unspoken tension between them snaps and comes crashing down around them, to find one another amongst the rubble. Even if it’s messy and dirty and hurts because what better reflection of the way they so often collide?
Alhaitham tears his attention away from Cyno, eyes meeting Kaveh’s. Definitely aroused. Definitely jealous. Kaveh’s chest heaves with each breath, his lips parted, palming himself through his pants, but what’s interesting is that his eyes aren’t on Cyno. Alhaitham catches him staring, lips curling at one corner.
“Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham!”
All four of them freeze.
Alhaitham looks up at the scholar approaching them, a man with a dark mustache whose name he forgot as soon as he’d heard it. Something starting with an S. Shaythir? Shanir?
This is bad. Terribly, horribly bad. Cyno can’t even tuck himself back in his pants without drawing attention to himself, so he stays stock-still, face bright red with shame and embarrassment. The scholar approaches, Alhaitham sees the scene play out on hundreds of fragments of glass, each a different outcome, none of them ideal.
Think , he tells himself. Think! Why the abyss did I drink so much? I’m the Acting Grand Sage for archons sake—oh, right.
He’s the Acting Grand Sage. Of course.
“That’s close enough,” Alhaitham says, his voice sober and authoritative. He leans back slowly but keeps his arm behind Cyno’s chair, trying to draw as little attention to him as possible.
The man freezes. “I… I am the researcher Shatir. I was hoping to speak with you about budgetary concerns.”
Alhaitham narrows his eyes. “As you can see, I’m currently off the clock. You may make an appointment with the Scribe and someone will get back with you in the next four to seven business years.”
Shatir blinks. “I—but you are the Scribe…? And aren't you salaried? How can you be off the clock?”
“Are you questioning the Acting Grand Sage?” Kaveh asks in mock disbelief.
Tighnari nods and joins in. “I may have been away from the Akademiya for quite some time, but these scholars sure are getting bold.”
Shatir pales. “No! Of course not, I mean no disrespect–”
“Yet you dare to disrespect me by interrupting what is very obviously a group of like-minded individuals deep in educated discussion?” Alhaitham says.
Beside him, Cyno isn’t breathing, his fingers still wrapped tightly around his cock. In his periphery, Alhaitham can see that he hasn’t softened in the slightest. If anything, he looks more aroused.
Huh, he is getting off on this, the pervert.
Shatir opens his mouth and closes it again, looking around the table. When his gaze lands on Cyno, it flickers, pausing momentarily. And Alhaitham knows he has to act quickly, because if Shatir’s eyes linger too long, he’ll surely figure out what’s going on.
“Did you have some business with the General Mahamatra?” Alhaitham asks. Hook. “Some matter of academic misconduct to report?” Line. “Or perhaps your eyes seek him out subconsciously, a byproduct of your own guilt… anything to confess, Shatir?” Sinker.
It, expectedly, works. Shatir makes a noise of horror, his eyes tearing themselves from Cyno.
“No!” He says loudly, bowing low. “No, not at all Acting Grand Sage! My apologies, I will bring this matter up in four to seven business… um… years!”
Without waiting for a response, Shatir turns and hurries out of the library. Cyno releases the breath he’d been holding, his shoulders relaxing minutely.
Kaveh watches Shatir disappear, turning back with a mildly impressed look. “Well, that wasn’t suspicious or anything.”
Tighnari nods. “Yeah.. you might want to look into that. His reaction seemed a tad too extreme to not be hiding something. But first,” he says, voice dropping as his attention returns to Cyno, “you have eight minutes left to come.”
Cyno’s breath hitches, his eyes wide. Alhaitham breathes a laugh at his expense. “All of that and you’re still dripping. I bet it won’t even take you two minutes.”
Cyno flushes and looks away. His fingers are messy and slick, coated in a combination of saliva and precum. The tip of his cock matches the color of his wine-stained lips, such a captivating shade.
“I… where do I…” he gasps as he goes back to stroking himself like before.
Ah, yes. If he comes, he’s going to make a mess, one that won’t be easy to clean without being noticed. But Kaveh’s dare did specify to completion. What a dilemma.
“I mean…” Kaveh says to Alhaitham, voice raspy. “Your office is still in the Akademiya…”
Tighnari nods, eyes still focused on Cyno. “People barge in all the time… it’s technically still public.”
Hmm, what a sudden change of heart.
“Technically.” Alhaitham agrees.
The elevator ride is little more than a blur.
Alhaitham keeps his arm around Cyno, holding most of his weight, feeling the way his small frame shakes at the lack of stimulation. Cyno’s cock strains against the inside of his shorts, damping a patch, begging for release. Next to them, Kaveh is putting his hands on Tighnari, groping him over his clothes, lips on his neck.
Alhaitham doesn’t know if Kaveh’s really into this or if it’s just an attempt at reciprocating the jealousy, but he doesn’t mind. They look good together, they sound good together, moaning at each other’s touch, getting lost in the combination of lust and alcohol.
As soon as they make it to the office, Alhaitham shoves Cyno down and pulls out his cock. Cyno grunts as he goes to his knees, pulling off his headpiece so Alhaitham can tangle a hand in his hair.
“You better make me come, Scribe,” he says defiantly, freeing himself once again.
So that’s how he wants this, how he’s fantasized about it going.
“You’ve been thinking about this since our fight, haven’t you?” Alhaitham asks, his words slurring slightly now that the alcohol is fully circulating his bloodstream.
“Say it. ” He forces Cyno to look at him by tugging his hair. “Say you’ve been dreaming of getting on your knees for me.”
Cyno just strokes himself, his movements sloppy. What a sight, the General Mahamatra sitting pretty and obstinate, unwilling to admit to his depraved fantasies while he waits for the Acting Grand Sage to fill his mouth. Alhaitham kicks Cyno’s hand away from his weeping cock, pressing his foot against him instead.
Cyno gasps and clings to Alhaitham, fingers digging into his hips. His cock jumps against the underside of Alhaitham’s boot, his mouth hanging open. He sticks his tongue out but doesn’t take initiative, so Alhaitham does it for him.
Cyno takes him wonderfully when Alhaitham finally shoves his cock down his throat. He gags and spasms around him. And then, without warning, Cyno comes hard, his release glistening against the marble floor and the dark leather of Alhaitham’s boot.
Alhaitham isn’t quite cruel enough to continue suffocating him, so he pulls out, watching the string of saliva that connects the head of his cock with Cyno’s tongue. Through his release, Cyno’s eyes are still alight with something like defiance, but he doesn’t close his pretty mouth. Alhaitham keeps Cyno still with a fist in his hair, resting the head of his cock on Cyno’s tongue as he brings himself over the edge.
After the show downstairs, it doesn’t take long. His release is quick, shooting out across Cyno’s tongue, some landing on his face, other ropes flying into the back of his throat.
Over on the desk, Kaveh has Tighnari bent over, pants down to his ankles, clinging to the edge and moaning while Kaveh grips his tail and shoves his tongue into his ass.
“Seems that Kaveh’s getting him ready for you,” Alhaitham says down at Cyno, grinding his foot into his oversensitive cock. “I think I’ve given you enough ideas on how to use his mouth.”
Cyno doesn’t wait to be told twice. Emboldened by the alcohol, he rounds the desk, his spent cock hanging in front of Tighnari’s face. And Tighnari who—by Alhaitham’s guess—has been in love with Cyno for as long as Cyno has reciprocated the feelings, doesn’t hesitate to suck him back to hardness.
Despite how frequently Kaveh calls him a grandpa, Alhaitham is young and virile, and needs no such coaxing. He kneels behind Kaveh and grinds into his clothed ass, and Kaveh pulls away from Tighnari’s twitching entrance.
“Who says you get to fuck me, you arrogant ponce?”
Alhaitham chuckles against Kaveh’s pulse point, shoving his hand down the back of Kaveh’s pants to feel where his hole twitches against Alhaitham’s fingers.
“Strange,” Alhaitham says. “It almost sounds as if you don’t want this…”
He pulls his hand away and Kaveh makes a frustrated sound that betrays him. On the table, the barrage of wet noises and gagging makes it known that Cyno is now thoroughly ravaging Tighnari’s poor throat. Alhaitham is still so painfully hard that he isn’t above using jealousy to get what he wants.
“Please, Kaveh?” He says more sweetly than either of them thought possible. “I know you’re curious, too.” Alhaitham drops his voice to a whisper and presses his lips to Kaveh’s ear, feeling him tense. “It’s just research after all. I’d like to compare your hole to Cyno’s mouth to see which I prefer, but I would appreciate your consent before I—”
Kaveh tugs his pants down before Alhaitham can finish.
“Hmph, I’ll show you!” he says, shoving his ass back against Alhaitham’s cock while he goes back to pleasuring Tighnari.
Alhaitham doesn’t smirk but it’s a very near thing. He spits on his fingers and circles his rim. Kaveh gasps against Tighnari when Alhaitham presses into him. Two fingers, two knuckles deep, dragging along his walls until he feels what he’s looking for.
Kaveh is tight, tighter than Alhaitham’s fist has ever felt as he daydreams about gagging his roommate on his cock, and it’s swiftly driving Alhaitham past the brink of insanity.
Between Alhaitham stretching Kaveh, Kaveh drooling against Tighnari’s ass, and Cyno abusing Tighnari’s throat, the room quickly fills with nothing but wet, squelching noises. Little by little, each of them strips fully until all four of them are naked, bodies rearranged. Kaveh leans over the desk and Tighnari lays on it next to him. Alhaitham and Cyno stand side by side, cocks poised to split them open.
Cyno is much more gentle than Alhaitham if the sounds Kaveh and Tighnari make are anything to go off of. Tighnari moans long and low, full of satisfaction, clinging to Cyno as he begins making love to him. Kaveh on the other hand, cries out, gripping the edge of the desk with white knuckles, his muscles fighting against the slide of Alhaitham’s cock.
He’s so unbelievably tense, clamping down around him. Alhaitham spreads him and forces his way inside, sinking to the hilt, hips flush to his ass. Kaveh shakes, his lips drooling curses, his body a hot, wet sleeve. Alhaitham wants to come inside of him, to fill his stomach, to rearrange his insides into the shape of his cock. He says all of it aloud.
Kaveh writhes as he pulls out, his rim clinging to Alhaitham’s cock like it could keep him inside. And then, he thrusts back in, their skin making loud contact. Alhaitham pounds into him, gripping his waist so hard it bruises, slamming inside with enough force that Kaveh’s knees buckle and he collapses fully against the desk. Kaveh and Tighnari lurch forward with every thrust, their neglected cocks leaking pathetically.
The room spins, but through the onslaught of pleasure, Alhaitham knows that Cyno is coming again. Tighnari holds on, hips raised from the desk as Cyno’s cock pumps into him. When he pulls out, his release drips out after him, Tighnari’s hole winking like it wants more. Tighnari very clearly needs his own release, and Alhaitham takes pity on him.
“Cyno,” he rasps. “Take his mouth again. Kaveh will assist.”
Nobody questions it. Cyno moves and rests his wet cock on Tighnari’s face while Kaveh climbs on top and fists their cocks together. Alhaitham goes back to fucking Kaveh, holding his waist and pistoning in and out of him.
Under Kaveh, Tighnari’s fucked out hole looks so tempting. Alhaitham pulls out and shoves the tip against Tighnari’s messy rim, waiting for any semblance of disagreement before plunging inside. The noise he makes sounds like the opposite of a protest, especially with Kaveh’s hand wrapped around them.
Tighnari cries out when he comes, his body very nearly forcing Alhaitham past the edge. He barely pulls out in time to stave it off, fisting the base of his cock long enough to slam back into Kaveh.
Kaveh’s voice gets louder the closer he gets to coming, so Alhaitham ruts into him forcefully, holding onto his waist and fucking inside until he’s filling Kaveh’s guts and Kaveh’s painting Tighnari’s chest and stomach.
Alhaitham almost wishes they would have lasted long enough to see Kaveh sink down on Tighnari, stopping at the swell of his cute little knot. To watch each thrust spread him wider and wider until it’s sucked inside. Kaveh would scream as they were tied together, and Alhaitham could watch the pulsing of— okay, now’s really not the time to get hard again.
The desk is large enough to hold all four of them as they collapse against it, breathing heavily in the aftermath of Kaveh’s completely uncalled for, yet deeply appreciated dare. Cyno is the first to speak.
“So, Kaveh,” he asks hoarsely. “Truth or dare?”
Kaveh laughs, eyes still closed.
“Dare.”
Tighnari sighs. “I’ll get the cactus.”