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In the morning, their household of four stirs to life in slow, but predictable, increments. Alhaitham is first to bed, first to rise, but requires some time to adjust to the violence of daylight and sound battering his senses. He prefers to bury his nose in a book to deter interlocutors until he is mentally prepared to deal with conversation. It rarely works when his spouses are around, though.
“Mm. Go away.”
“Rude! Let me finish my story!” Kaveh, who takes on freelance projects and exists outside the constraints of schedules and time, edges closer and closer to him on the divan, bundled underneath his cozy blanket like a pupa buried beneath desert sands. “Madam Faruzan showed me a delightful little contraption that uses single-channel radio control through a relay crystal to turn a motor on and off. She was suggesting I implement something similar in Mehrak and Karkata as a failsafe in case their threat detection systems ever malfunction, since sourcing ancient parts is so unreliable. And–”
“Kaveh, indoor voice,” Tighnari reminds him wearily from across the room, ears pressed flat against his head. “The neighbors can hear you just fine.”
Cyno, who already washed and changed, is in the midst of his limbering exercises on the kitchen floor. Tighnari steps over Cyno's outstretched legs to finish preparing four cups arranged on the counter.
Cyno is barely hiding a smile as he listens in on Kaveh's one-sided conversation.
“–I suggested we could work together towards engineering backup power sources so we could replace the ancient parts altogether, although that's easier said than done. Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked! Stop distracting me, Haitham,” Kaveh snips, pushing on his shoulder. “The point is, I was tinkering with miniatures all last night to see what I could make, and came up with a rather fun experiment I'd like all of us to try! Get excited, damn it!”
Alhaitham shuffles over to Tighnari and grunts, collecting his cup. Lemon black tea for Alhaitham, the same exact blend he's had every morning since childhood. Tighnari drinks his utilitarian coffee sans condiments, as black and bitter as the beans themselves. Puspa Café's cardamom and cloves are too spicy for his palate, so he prefers Karkata's simple roast.
Tighnari's keen nose twitches at the conflicting aromas. He and Alhaitham sit on either side of Kaveh, exchanging a dry glance over their steaming cups.
“...Simply put, it's a motor with a weight attached to create an unbalance, mounted on a rotor, which generates a circular vibration with high centrifugal force.” Kaveh continues to chatter on, hands waving animatedly in the air. The dark circles underneath his glassy eyes suggest he never went to bed at all. “Basically: the motor wobbles around because of the weight, and makes it buzz! And the motor only responds to the remote, meaning it can't be switched off any other way.”
Cyno dutifully carries Kaveh's cup over as well as his own, which Kaveh accepts with a beaming smile. Rosehip and valberry herbal tea for Cyno, Lisa's gift from the Windblume Festival. Equal parts coffee and sweet cream for Kaveh, chilled with a mist flower corolla so he doesn't burn his sensitive tongue, plus a little whipped cream and cinnamon on top for the aesthetic. They all four know each others' preferences well.
“To summarize: you stayed up all night, making all that racket, just to invent a remote controlled toy that... vibrates?” Alhaitham frowns.
“I don't choose the focus, the focus chooses me,” Kaveh dismisses airily. “And my creativity goes unappreciated, as usual! See for yourself, you ungrateful man!”
Emboldened by caffeine and sugar, Kaveh unfurls from his cocoon and places an object on the low table before them.
The innocuous little invention is smooth and green, fitting in the palm of his hand. It's around the size of an egg, and similarly shaped, topped with a thin stem reminiscent of a sprouting seed, or a Dendro Bloom. There are no visible buttons or switches.
“See, I even managed to rig a little remote for it!”
With a proud flourish, Kaveh presses a button on a small switchboard. The toy jumps to life, buzzing with all the intensity of a tiny, angry beehive. Kaveh flicks it off again and grins, hopeful eyes darting between each of his partners for their honest reactions.
They meet his gaze with varying degrees of confusion and disinterest.
“...You still don't get it?” Kaveh wilts. “Truly? I thought you'd all be thrilled to try it...”
Alhaitham remains unimpressed as he sips his tea.
“Don't you have paid clients you should be focusing on instead of procrastinating with these pet projects of yours?”
“It's not procrastination if they're boring, it's self-preservation,” Kaveh protests shrilly. “I made this for all of you! You should be thanking me!”
Cyno settles on the floor between Kaveh's legs, and rubs his knee in silent support.
“At least Cyno loves me,” Kaveh sulks, threading his fingers through Cyno's fine white hair. “You're the only one who will never betray me, darling. You're my favorite.”
Cyno leans into Kaveh's gentle touch, humming a wordless agreement deep in his chest, as Kaveh praises him. Tighnari rolls his eyes.
“Perhaps a demonstration is necessary,” Tighnari offers, patting Kaveh on the back before rising to his feet. Dawning understanding has the beginnings of a smirk curling on his lips. “I'll go fetch the oil. I have the feeling you should use a lot of lubrication to use that safely.”
“Yes, good idea!” Kaveh brightens. “I'm still calibrating the settings, so naturally, I need more feedback. Does anyone volunteer to be at my mercy? Submit to my wicked whims, and be brought to your knees?”
“Haitham should do it,” Cyno prompts, voice still rough with sleep. He's beginning to smile as well. “He needs to be knocked down a peg once in a while. It's been too long.”
Alhaitham's brows furrow as he takes a closer look at the toy. He does not refuse outright. He merely turns it over between his long fingers, a thoughtful expression softening his earlier frown. The novelty of it seems to have piqued his interest after all.
“I am probably the least qualified candidate to provide feedback on sexual gratification, assuming this is another of your many, many deviant proclivities, Kaveh,” Alhaitham points out finally, ignoring Kaveh's exaggerated gasp of offense. “Only specific scenarios elicit my participation. I am, however, not opposed to the idea of experimentation for the sake of collecting data. It's an intriguing design. It's nearly time for me to leave for work, though – should this not wait until the evening?”
Kaveh and Cyno exchange a quick glance. Tighnari leans against the doorframe, tossing and catching the vial he retrieved from the bathroom. All three of them grin at Alhaitham.
Alhaitham's eyes narrow in suspicion as he calculates what that sly look could entail.
“Actually,” Kaveh drawls, leaning forward until his elbows rest on Alhaitham's thighs. Their noses bump together. Alhaitham stares steadily back at him, impassive as stone, as Kaveh flutters his eyelashes. “I have something more challenging in mind, if you think you can handle it.”
Alhaitham crosses, then re-crosses, his lanky legs. The oversized chair in the Grand Sage's office is suddenly too hard and scratchy against the undersides of his thighs. The thrum of the empty elevator is too loud, and the lights are too bright. Every sensation seems amplified twofold.
He swallows, shifting restlessly, as he stares at the paperwork strewn across his desk without really seeing it. There is static buzzing in his skull that his noise canceling feed can do nothing about. His thoughts tumble over themselves, difficult to hold onto. Perspiration beads along the back of his neck before slowly trickling beneath his shirt, and down, down the curve of his spine.
Was it always this hot in here? Could he always feel his heartbeat pounding in all his extremities?
Alhaitham draws a deep breath and holds it, ticking off the seconds in his head before finally exhaling again. Another minute down.
“Having trouble getting comfortable?”
Tighnari's knowing grin is sharp with fangs. Alhaitham narrows his eyes.
Tighnari is perched cheekily on the corner of his desk, plume of a tail swishing with amusement. He tilts his head, long ears swaying with the coy movement, as he awaits an answer.
“Did you come to my office for the sole purpose of tormenting me?” Alhaitham asks mildly, voice steady, despite the flush tingeing his cheeks pink.
“Oh, I came up with some pretense for my visitor's pass,” Tighnari shrugs. “Submitting my latest report on the former Sages in Avidya Forest, waiting to have lunch with my mentor, yadda yadda. Obviously my ulterior motive is to sneak up here and watch my husband squirm. What are they gonna do, ban me from seeing you?”
“If you were expecting me to forfeit already, you have very little faith in my will,” Alhaitham retorts. The red pen clutched in his left hand creaks in warning. “It's not even noon.”
Tighnari clicks something in his pocket.
At once, the muffled buzzing of the vibrator falls silent.
Alhaitham lets out a shuddering gasp, shoulders slumping with the release of tension. Sweat drips from his hair to spatter against the documents on his desk.
Tighnari's mischievous smile broadens. “You certainly are stubborn, but that's nothing new,” he says. Swish, swish, swish goes his tail, like a metronome. “You're more of a brat than people expect you to be underneath that cool and collected façade, though. Cyno likes to give me the reins, and Kaveh is desperate to please, but you... You have pride. It's fun to see how long you can keep it.”
“Longer than you have time for,” Alhaitham replies, a mulish set to his jaw. “You don't have all day to loiter around here, unlike a certain architect.”
Tighnari's clear laughter is as bright as sunlight after rain. He clicks the button in his pocket again, and Alhaitham doubles over, biting back a low groan through clenched teeth. His thighs squeeze together, desperate to alleviate the building pressure of the buzzing toy seated heavy inside him.
“That may be so,” Tighnari muses, as though nothing changed. “At least for now, though, we're alone up here. You could rub one out real quick for me. Make some cute noises, make a mess inside your pants, and none of your co-workers will be the wiser. You've probably soaked through your pants already though, haven't you? It might even be dripping down your thighs by now...” Tighnari leans over the edge of the desk to peer at the telltale damp spot on Alhaitham's lap. “You're so wet. Maybe you should take care of that.”
Alhaitham glares at him with reddening cheeks and gritted teeth, not trusting his voice to say anything at all.
“Ah, but you wouldn't do that, would you?” Tighnari's dark eyes flick back up to his face, before he leans back, chuckling to himself. “Touching yourself now would be the same as admitting you like it. You'd rather be forced, so you can fight it every step of the way. What a shame.”
Tighnari clicks the button off again.
Alhaitham's chest heaves as he gulps down mouthfuls of air.
A startled groan tears from his throat as the toy suddenly buzzes back to life, only for a second.
He glowers at Tighnari, whose vulpine smile has not faltered in the least.
“Oops. Finger slipped,” Tighnari winks. He settles his chin in his palm, gesturing with his free hand at the scattered papers. “You're not getting much work done, y'know. Maybe I can help you catch up. Are these all funding requests for student research projects?”
“Primarily,” Alhaitham mutters. They've been knocked out of chronological order, which is bothering him. He starts shuffling the requests into one organized stack, while keeping a wary eye on Tighnari. “Some are propositions requesting materials, or the requisition of communal equipment. Some are to finalize details for the upcoming Interdarshan Championship, of which you are – nnng.”
Alhaitham clamps his lips together to silence himself as the toy rumbles for another frustratingly brief second, interrupting his efforts to focus. His hand twitches involuntarily, scattering the papers, as it clenches into a fist.
He can't begin to articulate whether he wants it to stop or if he wants more.
“Did my finger slip again? My bad.” Tighnari tilts his head, feigning innocence. Swish, swish, swish goes his damn tail. “Do go on, o Acting Grand Sage. I'm here to listen.”
It's quiet in the Grand Sage's office for some time after Tighnari mercifully leaves him alone. Alhaitham interprets this break as Tighnari's thoughtful way of giving him an out, should he not want to play their little game anymore but be too obstinate to admit it aloud.
No one would fault him for pulling the vibrator out after enduring this long.
The toy, inert and silent, sits like a lead ball inside Alhaitham. It's difficult to concentrate on anything else when his every movement jostles it back to the forefront of his awareness. At the same time, the soporific sensation of heaviness, of fullness, lulls him into a drifting sense of calm. He does not dislike the effect it has on his body. It's been an interesting experiment thus far.
Stubbornly, Alhaitham downs a glass of water to prepare himself for whatever his spouses throw at him next.
He's most of the way through remorselessly rejecting the funding requests in order to budget for the festival games when Cyno appears before him, shadow-silent and intense with curiosity.
“General Mahamatra,” Alhaitham says by way of greeting.
Cyno clacks the butt of his staff against the floor tiles and bows his cowled head in wordless acknowledgment of their formal hierarchy within the Akademiya. When he raises his head again, Cyno's gaze is sharp with single-minded focus.
Alhaitham meets Cyno's flat stare with a defiant jut of his chin. He will outlast them all.
“You really are perseverant,” Cyno remarks under his breath. “Your competitive streak is... difficult. But not unexpected.”
Alhaitham is braced for it when the toy buzzes to life. He holds Cyno's eye contact with gritted teeth, not flinching, as the heavy vibrations send ripples of heat searing through him once more. His body clenches tight around the intrusion, aching for the release he will not give it.
Cyno's cool expression is unreadable as Alhaitham's thighs quiver, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the desk for something to hold onto.
When the toy halts, Alhaitham sputters out the breath he was holding, sending him into a brief coughing fit. Somehow, the quiet anticipation of waiting for it seems to have amplified his body's response. That, or the mechanical arousal from earlier did not fade, but merely lay latent.
This, too, is an interesting observation to ruminate on later.
“Follow me,” Cyno commands.
He does not wait for an answer as he whirls on his bare heel and pads off in the direction of the elevator.
When Alhaitham does not rise from his desk, the vibrator thrums into punitive action, rapid fire starting and stopping in a patternless syncopation that threatens to drive him mad with the inconsistency. Alhaitham bites back a curse. Cyno does not have mercy for rulebreakers.
Alhaitham rises with a grimace, sourly noting a wobble in his unsteady legs when he sets off at his usual impatient pace. He stiffens his posture and forces himself to walk slower, more deliberately. He refuses to give Cyno the satisfaction of seeing him off-kilter, although it's surprisingly challenging to do so with the vibrator rattling around inside him.
The toy only falls silent when he reaches the elevator where Cyno is waiting. When the door closes, it's just the two of them in the small chamber.
Alhaitham breathes a low sigh of relief as the elevator begins its descent to the library. His jaw is so tense that he can feel the ache radiating up behind his ears. His headphones feel too heavy, and his binder feels too tight. The fabric of his pants is scratching his thighs, and he's keenly aware of the damp patch of sweat on his back that makes his shirt stick to his skin.
The most frustrating sensation of all is the throbbing pressure in his lower gut, the pending climax he's unable to achieve without clitoral stimulation. Alhaitham fidgets despite himself, rubbing his thighs against one another for the friction.
Restlessly, he crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow in question at Cyno.
“I'm not going to touch you,” Cyno promises. “And when we're in public, you won't be able to touch yourself, either.”
Alhaitham's sullen gaze drops below Cyno's navel to the telltale bulge of his growing erection. How bold.
Cyno huffs a quiet laugh and readjusts his shendyt to obscure it.
“I'm sure you'd like me to bend you over a bookshelf and fuck you in the House of Daena, but that's not what's going to happen today, scribe,” Cyno says with dark amusement coloring his tone. He enjoys roleplaying, Alhaitham remembers. “You're going to walk outside with me as I go over the festival security route. I'm going to introduce you to each of the matra I'll have stationed. You won't know when I'll press the button. You have to be prepared to take it at any time.”
As the doors to the elevator slide open, they are awash in the ambient noise of scholarly conversations and turning pages. Students sit with their heads down at tables, buried in their work. Researchers stroll from shelf to shelf, muttering to themselves as they stack books in their arms.
Cyno hovers his callused hand in the doorway to stop the elevator from automatically closing. Alhaitham, still leaning against the wall so that his treacherous legs don't have to support his full weight, realizes what he's waiting for.
The safe word. A chance to protest Cyno's proposal, and the humiliation it promises him. There is mercy in Cyno after all.
Alhaitham doesn't need it. He scowls as he pushes past Cyno to stride down the raised walkway that bifurcates the House of Daena.
“Then hurry up and get it over with,” Alhaitham grumbles over his shoulder. “Stop wasting my time.”
Cyno pads barefooted in the shadow of his wake, lips curving with the subtle hint of a smile.
Alhaitham winces away from the grating volume of Kaveh's triumphant tone.
“Haitham, Haitham, Haitham,” Kaveh crows, planting his fists on his hips and striking a dramatic pose. His hair is properly done up now, and his dark circles are no longer quite so prominent. He looks far too pleased with himself for someone who probably napped all afternoon and contributes nothing of value to Sumerian society. “You really need to work on that spiteful personality of yours! After I came all this way out of the kindness of my heart to see how you were doing, and find you in this pathetic state, you still have the nerve to sass me? Have you no respect for your senior whatsoever?”
“Don't ask questions you already know the answers to,” Alhaitham mutters.
He's leaning over his work desk just to stay upright, countenance stained a deep red, knees knocking into the desk as the vibrator buzzes non-stop. Kaveh clicks and holds the button, and this time the input increases, dragging a soft groan from Alhaitham's chewed-raw lips. He's beyond the point of caring whether they're overheard.
(It might even work in Alhaitham's favor to get them caught, since all he wants is to be demoted. He should be so lucky.)
“Look at you. You're a mess. I should make you beg for my cock,” Kaveh grins, tapping on his chin with one finger. He strolls around the desk with his colorful scarves fluttering behind him like the proud tailfeathers of some ornamental bird. “That would be truly satisfying after how rude you were to me this morning. Ah, but I want to commit this scene to memory first, so that I never lose it! That's such a beautiful face you're making, Haitham, all strung out and trembling. Your pretty eyes, all hazy with longing... You'd make a lovely painting, darling. Should I assume the toy is a success, then? Do you like it?”
Alhaitham musters the most eloquent retort his overstimulated brain can provide.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me yourself,” Kaveh fires back without thinking. His cheeks color a little when he realizes what he said, but he still leans an elbow on the desk, radiating smugness. He slides a hand into his own pants, rubbing himself at the intoxicating sight of the great and powerful Alhaitham in such disarray. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? Yeah, beg me to come, and I'll consider letting you!”
“Awfully confident for... mmm,” Alhaitham trails off, voice failing him.
It's too difficult to hold onto the train of thought anymore. All of his senses are scrambled. Everything in his body aches, but the pain is indiscernible from the pleasure, a jumbled mess of nerves firing and firing until nothing means anything anymore.
Alhaitham sinks his exhausted head onto his arms and shuts his eyes to block out the light.
“Haitham?” A flicker of genuine concern twists Kaveh's expressive face. He leans in to push Alhaitham's sweaty bangs from his fever-hot forehead. “Did we push you too far?”
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham mumbles into his arms. His voice is so small, so faded. “Kaveh.”
It's as much of an admission as he's going to get. Kaveh draws back to his full height with an indignant huff. Wrapping Alhaitham's arm around his shoulders, Kaveh manages to lift Alhaitham's limp weight from the desk and ease him backward into the chair. He sinks back with a grunt, offering no assistance.
“You still don't know your own limits, do you, Haitham,” Kaveh complains loudly. He sets the remote control on the desk, clicks off the vibrator, then kneels, unlacing Alhaitham's pants without delay. “You could have just asked! How hard would that be! You're so stubborn that you'd rather keep going until you injure yourself than admit to wanting anything, ever! Now you've skewed all my data. Thanks a lot. I should have known by now you're always an outlier who shouldn't be counted.”
“Told you.”
Alhaitham slumps forward, burying his face in Kaveh's shoulder. He curls his twitching fingers weakly around Kaveh's back, while Kaveh slides one hand below Alhaitham's undergarments, hissing at the dampness he finds.
Gently, gingerly, Kaveh presses the pads of his fingers in small circles against the swollen bead of Alhaitham's clit. Alhaitham's legs jerk at the burst of new sensation, very nearly kicking Kaveh, but he does not stop.
“Shh, shh, just relax. I've got you,” Kaveh murmurs, over and over. Kaveh's other palm rubs up and down Alhaitham's back in a soothing rhythm. “Come for me, Haitham.”
It's not long before Alhaitham's exhausted body seizes up with electric tension, fingers digging into Kaveh's shoulder blades, toes curling in his boots, spine drawn taut as a bow string.
Then everything in his body releases at once, and he shudders through his climax with nary a sound.
Alhaitham is halfway to dozing off on Kaveh's shoulder when he feels Kaveh readjust himself to get more comfortable.
He has no way of discerning how much time has passed, but if Kaveh's legs are going numb underneath him, it's longer than he was cognizant of. It's still difficult to focus on anything with his normally precise thoughts swimming through a syrupy fog of endorphins.
Alhaitham clears his throat before attempting to speak.
“It's still...”
“That's your own fault for taking so damn long. You'll have to take it out yourself once the swelling goes down,” Kaveh snips. He's still rubbing Alhaitham's back, sending little shivers of sensations in the wake of his touch. Everything is far too sensitive, but that, at least, is pleasant. Enthusiasm brightens Kaveh's voice as he visibly perks up. “Honestly, I'm impressed the battery held the charge for as long as it did! I could probably tweak the balance to make it a little quieter, and maybe figure out how to program some patterns – you liked it though, didn't you? Tell me what you liked about it, and I'll make improvements! This is only my first draft. Well?”
“Mm,” Alhaitham grunts.
“That's not an answer, Haitham,” Kaveh pouts.
“Mm,” Alhaitham agrees.
“Ugh, fine. Just tell me when you think you can stand,” Kaveh says, voice softening with affection. “Lean on me, and I'll walk you home. Tighnari and Cyno will be there in time for dinner. Then we can discuss adjustments!”
Alhaitham is still at work, and he does not want to be. His bedroom, dark and quiet, is calling to him like a siren's song. But Alhaitham does not move, not just yet. He does not speak. It's rare for his brilliant mind to be so clouded, so hazy, so... relaxed. It won't last long, but it's a worthwhile reward for his efforts.
He simply leans on Kaveh's shoulder, and savors being held for just a little while longer.