justscribing | The City | Past Iterations

[ Didn't you, Alhaitham asks, and for a moment, Midnight actually thinks about it. (This is the only time he ever really thinks about what he does: after the fact, when all choices to be made have been made.) Well, he'd asked for a round two... But was it in the heat of the moment, because it's the thing to be done? Or did he enjoy it too?

He lays back against his pillow, contemplates his hands. He can smell the sharpness of the orange peel, the softer citrus of the nectar inside. Alhaitham's skin, the faint traces of blood. The earthier, richer smell of sex.

I'm not sure. I think I did. And then: Do I want Alhaitham to know that I'm unsure? ]

Of course it was good. You were with me.

[ Is what Midnight finally says, snorting and shaking his head. Well, at least that part isn't up to debate. He is an excellent lover.

(That he is stymied over a simple question should be pretty telling of how often people actually ask him if he enjoys intimacy.) ]

So I was. [And so Alhaitham still is: in the aftermath, still laid bare in Midnight's bed. Eating an orange, and to linger in his presence innately makes it more than just a quick lay. It wasn't the carefully decided boundaries that were Jaap and Farabi, a controlled experience to refine his understanding that were cast off when they were finished. Lingering wasn't acceptable. Aftercare was skipped to avoid the risk of allowing his thoughts to drift to Kaveh.

And here he is, still laid bare and eating an orange.

This sticks to his skin. Alhaitham is unsure if it was the right choice, not to try and crawl out regardless of the pain between his legs. There are no regrets for the sex itself--he got what he wanted, if more than he bargained for.

But Midnight dodges the question and he thinks to himself: did he want Midnight to enjoy it?

He closes his eyes with a sigh.] I won't be offended if you didn't enjoy fucking me, so you might as well be honest.

[ That, at least, gets a laugh out of Midnight. ]

For better or for worse, whether I've offended others is the very last thing on my mind, darling.

[ Midnight does think about how to pose his thoughts a little longer, though. Eventually, he turns, then scoots closer. He nudges Alhaitham's hand over, then puts a finger over his neck, the bruises and punctures there. ]

I did that. [ A very factual tone of voice. ] Did you like it? Did it hurt?

[Alhaitham opens his eyes as he feels Midnight nudge him. His finger brushes over tender skin. His gaze rolls over.]

Of course it hurt. [Factually, the whole thing hurt.] But if I had any problem with it, I wouldn't have let you continue.

[A contemplative hum. A genuine consideration of the why, not merely the what. ~~In another samsara Alhaitham will watch this happen again and have to contemplate the additional question: "Am I the one with a vampire kink?"~~] I believe it's fairly normal for pain to accentuate arousal during intercourse, with the overall increased stimulus to one's nerves. But you have more experience with sex than I do, so I'm sure that's something you already knew.

[The quirk of his brow. An assertion, because he's pretty sure he's right:] You don't normally feed on someone during it. Were you hungry?

[ Midnight cracks up in the middle of that very dry explanation. Honestly, that was very helpful, but Alhaitham really is funny. ]

Mm. I wasn't.

[ He still isn't, actually, finds it difficult to have an appetite at all these days. That's not the crux of that thought, though. He blinks slowly, a bit like a comfortable cat. ]

I did it to keep you still. [ ... ] It feels good.

[ Midnight's smile sobers a bit. That is not a something he likes to admit. It makes him slightly ill to think about it, actually, even if in the moment, he can acknowledge that it was something he wanted, something he enjoyed.

(The tunnel of love never happened in this iteration. In this iteration, Alhaitham never spoke of weakness to a man who prides himself in having none.) ]

It's good that you liked it. I don't like hurting others. I've never wanted to hurt anyone. So.

[ ... So it's a bit of a problem that one of the main ways his brain derives pleasure is in causing harm to others. ]

[Midnight laughs. Alhaitham realizes that he does that a lot, and Alhaitham is never sure if it's at or with him. Probably at him.

His face scrunches slightly, petulant, for just a moment. Then he smooths it back out.

(The tunnel of love never happened this samsara. Alhaitham learns because he sees too much, too far, but doesn't yet know the vulnerability in rejecting himself.

In this samsara, Kaveh bleeds for other things. His dance with Midnight moves slower. Alhaitham watches the way Kaveh bares teeth and digs them in. He watches, and thinks--that he had always known Kaveh will choose him last. It was his own doing that led him here.

Alhaitham still bleeds for Kaveh. Midnight knows. Everyone knows. But Kaveh isn't the one whose bed he lays in now.)] Your lead-on suggested you liked it rough, which it wouldn't be if there wasn't any harm. Does it bother you that you enjoy it?

[ Cute. Alhaitham was always very, very cute. In no iteration does Midnight ever think otherwise. However, in all iterations, Midnight also knows that there's nothing to be done about his affection, that it's just another thing he will fail to fix. ]

Not at all. Others indulging my liking for pain was never the problem. I'm quite sturdy, you know.

[ Crisply said, crisply meant. He does pause here, though, looking at Alhaitham for a moment. He reaches out and touches his neck again. ]

I could have crushed your throat here. It would have been easy. I don't mean this in the sense that I want to. I mean that it is easy to crush a blade of grass if you aren't carefully looking out for it. Even more so if you're simply walking along, enjoying your day.

[ It was easier before. He could never go full force with most, honestly, but knowing that others could pay him in kind, that they could beat him back with as much passion as he wanted to lave upon them... it was enough for him to forget what he was, at least for a the length of a tryst. At least it was fair.

No one can make him bleed anymore. He is a blade with no handle, a sword with no sheath. He needs to tread so carefully... ]

[Alhaitham looks. The orange is passed to a single hand with the fleck of his fingers to remove zest.

He rests his free hand over Midnight's. The weight of it is warm, and gentle.] I'm aware. Put another way, I trusted that in only going as far as I agreed to, you would look out for that.

[Alhaitham had trusted Midnight. That was it--with only his body perhaps, but he trusted that Midnight would not crush him. Midnight only took him to the edge and then pulled him back.

Alhaitham watches pink with teal, like he can find the crucible of Midnight's mind going into his.] Did you enjoy the way we had sex?

[Not the decision to lay with each other. But to be rough, to have Alhaitham goad him into a push and pull that demanded Midnight still remember enough of himself.]

Oh. Well. I've had practice.

[ For a moment before he smooths the expression away, Midnight is struck with surprise and gratitude so potent that it tickles at the back of his sinuses. It's unusual for others to trust him with anything outside of what might expect of him. (That others might trust him with their lives seems incredibly unwise to him, but it does seem to keep happening.)

Midnight looks down, suddenly awkward, before shaking himself. Enough. He's much too old to be flattered by something that simple. ]

I'm not certain.

[ Only the setup of that reassurance could have shaken that loose from Midnight's lips. He's shocked for a moment. He's always certain, and if he's uncertain, it's certainly never about himself. ]

I... think I would have enjoyed it more if I'd known you liked it from the start.

[ Because outside of obvious physical signs, he couldn't tell. Perhaps it's an aftershock of having such conflicting principles and desires, but he can never quite see, outside of the most blatant of telegraphing, how others actually feel. It used to be that he pleased others far too much to try and work around this; nowadays, he generally tries to please himself and worry about others as far as he doesn't cause intentional harm.

This isn't the whole problem — this goes deep, in ways that he will probably go without understanding in this iteration — but at the very least, he knows that he was never trying to harm Alhaitham. He wouldn't. He likes him a lot. ]

[Unwise, perhaps, but Alhaitham considers the risk calculated. He has learned about Midnight thanks to this, and he's refined his understanding of himself.

Alhaitham hums.] I see.

[And then his expression eases.] This was a new experience for me as well, so I wouldn't have been able to confirm how I'd feel about it before experiencing it.

[Not just the biting, the degree of being manhandled and taken rough. But to do this with someone he actually likes, as more than just a handsome face that can be a means to an end. To use him and be used.

As it turns out, such a clinical approach is harder when you care. He finds himself bothered by the idea that Midnight didn't find it as pleasurable.

Of course, improvement is trial and error and refinement. What doesn't work the first time is to be studied and adjusted for the next.

But that requires there to be a next. Alhaitham contemplates.] I have no objections to trying again in the future if you'd like to improve your experience.

[ Midnight stares at Alhaitham for a moment. Now he's putting a lot of thought in what he'd like to say, if only because in this, he doesn't want to be misunderstood. (Disliked, sure, but at least let it be for the right reasons.)

The change in expression helps. It's less that Midnight actually understands it, more that he understands that what Alhaitham's just said in conjunction with the change is generally that of concession. Talking to Alhaitham is worse than a brick wall of an experience; it's smooth concrete, marble, a surface with no cracks, no give. He is only cautious because he really can't read him, not because there's anything necessarily to fear. (He thinks. At least nothing he's said has been evidence of malice so far.)

(But he's been so, so wrong before.) ]

I don't want you to do so only to humor me, if that's the case. Or to prove a point.

[ That's what this one was about — proving a point, having fun, because why not — but now that they've had this talk about understanding and improving... It's not something Midnight feels comfortable with. It gets too close to truths that would end this all prematurely.

You do know this is temporary, right? As soon as Kaveh wakes up and chooses you, that's how this ends. There's no point in learning about how to make room for me when I could simply make room for you. I like you a lot, and I think you enjoyed this. Making this any more than that would be unfair to both of us. ]

I want to do it right next time. Not just for the sake of improving.

[ It's because I care very much for you, even if I can't tell if you feel the same way. Given how you feel for Kaveh, I'd assume that this is purely physical for you. And that's fine. I just wish I knew.

He doesn't know how to say this without revealing another vulnerability. There's been too much of that already. ]

I enjoyed it a lot too, even if it wasn't perfect. I want to know what it is that you want, too.

[Midnight stares. It's in the silence that understanding is found, and so Alhaitham doesn't break it. Midnight is a puzzle. Kaveh is a puzzle. Their similarities aren't lost to him, even now. They sharpen his perspective of their differences.

"I want to do it right next time."

Alhaitham would never ask to be given the answers to either of them, but Midnight is contemplative and seems to curl into himself and Alhaitham thinks that this is something important for him to get out clearly. This is something he needs to be understood.

So it is, perhaps, frustrating when Alhaitham looks at him with the tilt of his head and only the slight shift of his expression to curiosity.]

What is doing this "right"?

[It's a genuine question. Alhaitham turns the gears in his own head but isn't quite sure where Midnight is going forward with this. Midnight sheds love and affection like motes in sunlight. Alhaitham is surely one of many, and not even a top choice for a committed relationship.]

If you're worried I'm offering against my own interests, that isn't the case.

Ah. Good.

[ In response to Alhaitham, in no uncertain terms, saying he wants to do this because he wants it. The relief is genuine. The trust Midnight is trying to desperately keep alive wavers, but Midnight steadies it through sheer willpower. Alhaitham wouldn't lie about this. There's no reason for him to. He's reasonable.

(They're all reasonable. They seem reasonable. They always seem reasonable...) ]

As for doing this right, I want to come into the next time prepared, knowing what I can and can't do. With most of my partners, you know... They just want the kissing and the romance and so on. This is a little more than what I'd ask for, usually. More than what I think most anticipate from a normal session of intimacy.

[ And Midnight's fine with that level. More than fine; no matter what he likes out of sex, it's always his partner that takes priority. It's when the circumstances start growing outside the boundaries of what is "standard" and "acceptable" that Midnight gets in his head in ways he doesn't like. It reminds him of when he was young and still terrified of failure, of doing perfectly normal things wrong, of making a mess and never getting a chance to fix it. It's... not something he likes looking at at all, much less with someone he can't figure out well enough to know if he trusts or not.

(What does a Demon King have in this world to fear? Many, many things, as it turns out.) ]

Well, I'm often told I'm not like other people. [The breath he chuffs out is almost proud. Because why would he want to be?] But I can see why most people wouldn't goad you into being that rough. I was curious.

[About what Midnight was, would do, past pure carnal desire. Standard and acceptable were never going to be possible with Alhaitham. He stands outside of them, reaching into the world from beyond, digging his fingers into what strays too far from its norms. He occupies himself with things that are interesting. Midnight is a paradox of his own making. And Alhaitham holds a scalpel to him. The same one he uses to splice apart himself.

It's been a while since he's had something within that leaves him uncertain and unmoored, needing to make fresh incisions and peek inside. Midnight wants certainty, a boundary, and Alhaitham thinks--if he had been asked ahead of time, he wouldn't have agreed to the lack of preparation. To being fed on. And yet, what happened gave him exactly what he had been looking for.]

You're nervous. [He points out, helpfully.] Of crossing something you didn't see. Are you concerned you'll drive me away?

[ In spite of his continued anxiety, Midnight can't help but laugh again. Alhaitham truly isn't like the other girls.

That question gets a silence, another moment to think. It's followed by a nod. Yes... In general, Midnight doesn't like to think he's the sort of person to make people feel uncomfortable enough to refuse his company. That he does so quite a bit is intentional; the cases when it isn't intentional is. Well, it's heartbreaking. ]

I just don't want to make you unhappy. Which is absurd, I think. I don't have that much power over your moods.

[ ... Midnight shifts away. He doesn't like that Alhaitham could read that so easily. ]

I also want to make you happy, which is equally absurd. Very few things in this world make you happy, I think, and I don't count myself in that number. I feel like I'd waste my time trying.

[ ... Maybe they've gotten to the crux of one issue. Midnight doesn't like to waste time with people determined to be unhappy on the best of days. While Alhaitham isn't unpleasable, it would take a certain level of delusion to think that anything Midnight could do under his own steam could affect the way he feels in any way.

(It has occurred to him that Kaveh is the key to changing Alhaitham's mood... But Kaveh doesn't love him in this iteration, so there's no reason to consider trying to sabotage his love. That Alhaitham is unlikely to fall in love with anyone but Kaveh is the only steady point of reassurance in all of this. Midnight can't make him lonelier than he already is.) ]

[Midnight shifts back. Alhaitham doesn't hold him there. Instead his hands return to peeling the rest of the orange.]

Happiness is a temporary state. Nobody can experience any emotion consistently, but especially not to be happy at the time. Because of that, rather than seek happiness specifically I pursue a life of comfort and peace. It enables me to do what I want, and experiencing joy is a consequence of that.

You just brought me pleasure. [He gestures to the bed.] And if I didn't already enjoy your company I wouldn't have allowed you to fuck me. I don't have a habit of seeking out casual sexual encounters.

[This is, of course, all said in his usual monotone and his usual micro-expressions. It's Kaveh that makes him vibrant. It's Kaveh's sunlight that illuminates Alhaitham's moon. It's different. It will always be different.

It's why Alhaitham's heart is caught within those burnt walls. But that was a choice. It was always a choice.]

... You can be very annoying, of course. But so can Kaveh and you already know how I feel about him.

I do.

[ Said with the distant fondness of a man who finds both Alhaitham and Kaveh exasperating. That he has deep affection for them both is in itself exasperating as well.

After a moment, Midnight rolls back toward Alhaitham, watching him peel the last of the orange. Pink and orange and teal. He thinks. ]

Tell me if what I do here, in bed, makes you unhappy. For example...

[ Midnight shifts a bit closer, expression very serious. ]

I like to kiss. A lot. Most of the time. I simply don't do so because one can't kiss others all day. There are other things to do with one's time.

I'd like to kiss you. Quite a bit. Even if we aren't having sex. Is that all right? Would it make you unhappy?

Oh. [The beat, and then it rises--that slow curl of the corner of his lips up. Amused.] I have no issue with pointing out things I don't like. Don't expect me to spare you from my own desires.

[Because this is Alhaitham. Ever sure of himself, and ever rude about it. Sumeru's second-biggest complainer and that's because no one can take the crown from Kaveh.

Alhaitham pries the fourth slice off and pops it in his mouth. Explodes it between teeth and then swallows it down.]

Here. [Alhaitham twists, his arm reaching out so that his had can slide to the back of Midnight's head and pull him in.

His lips find Midnight's. Citrus still tastes off his tongue.]

[ Midnight breathes out a little, brow furrowed, because it's his turn to not enjoy being the source of Alhaitham's amusement. Is this happiness? He's not sure. At any rate, Alhaitham had better let him in on the joke, because whatever desires he has shouldn't be kept when Midnight can do something about them, wants to —

And then Alhaitham takes him by the back of his head, and then his mouth tastes of sweet tang and sunshine, and Midnight's hands grip into the blankets and his mouth opens because he is so, so easy. He makes a small sound, closes his eyes, and for a second he thinks of nothing at all except how the sheets feel, how warm he is, how good Alhaitham tastes, how lovely everything smells and how much he loves, loves, loves this, loves kissing, loves. He learned long, long ago that he would sell himself to anyone for one good kiss. He learned long, long ago how to make sure no one would ever get that close.

When the kiss finally breaks, Midnight's face is heated, he's frowning. He knows he's just showed his hand, and he's furious for it. Furious for being so careless, for not realizing that Alhaitham would, of course, take this information and run with it. Furious because he wants another one, and another one. If people knew just how easy it was to control Midnight with kisses, he would never have any principles or morals or ethics or self-respect again. ]

[The satisfaction is undeniable as Midnight frowns and then caves anyway. Irreverent brat that Alhaitham is, when he's fond of someone he likes to play. And he likes to have the upper hand. You learn, when many things are out of your control, or either make them in control or make yourself care less.

Midnight melts into him. Alhaitham's fingers glide through his hair as the kiss breaks. He is, unfortunately for Midnight, terribly smug.] Well? Did that make you happy?

[ Midnight lowers his head on Alhaitham's chest and plants himself there so he can feel how deeply he's started to growl. How rude. He's gotten away with kissing just because it feels good for so long. This is the first time in a very, very long time that someone has tried, specifically, to make him happy with a kiss, and of course Midnight liked it. He is a fraud. He is a weakling. This sucks. ]

I hate you.

[ He is perfectly aware that he needs to care less. He's spent so much of his life practicing caring less about things he didn't need to care about. This, though? He cares. He cares so much about being happy. He's so happy that his chest hurts, and it's vile and upsetting and he really, really wants another kiss, but now he's too angry to ask for one, which only makes the growling louder.

He has never, ever looked, sounded, or behaved more like Kaveh in his entire life than he has in this moment. ]

[Midnight's countenance cracks, not to reveal the vampire sewn tight into his skin but the man who has clearly bitten off more than he could chew. This is what makes the pain in his ass totally worth it.

It isn't a conscious thought so much as a natural draw to that reflection of Kaveh in him, so bright and petulant. Easily teased. Absolutely endearing. Cute, the most terrible offense to a man older than him who prides himself on the stability of his hidden vulnerabilities.

Not even in this iteration can Alhaitham give Midnight the love he needs. Not the love he wants. Alhaitham can't put him first, or give the whole of his heart to a man who is bleeding out more than he can take. Whatever this is won't last, because Alhaitham will always choose to turn his path back to Kaveh. To Sumeru.

But in this iteration, when Midnight held Alhaitham's trust in a steady grip, when it wasn't shattered the moment his fingers curled around it--Alhaitham realizes under the weight of Midnight buried in his chest that he'll allow him to claw his way in, leave marks that Alhaitham expects to carry the rest of his life. A crucible for a man halfway lost to the world.]

Hate me enough to kiss me again? [Midnight won't ask, but Alhaitham is certainly shameless enough to.]

[ Midnight will look back at this later, alone and nursing a drink, and reaffirm that yes, he's aware this is temporary. Higashinese culture and Sarkaz culture tends to emphasize the ephemerality of life and everything in it, which, while never curing Midnight's fear of death, did at least help reposition his heart in juxtaposition with things ending. This will end, and that is all right. Life will continue because it must, then death will take it, because it must.

Right now, though, Midnight knows that the only thing keeping the love in him from lasting forever is the death of the body containing it. Forever, forever. He is excellent at lies; this is a lie he has told himself, and he can live in it for a while.

(The lie is not that his love won't last. This is the lie: that his happiness is worth the effort of keeping it alive.) ]

Keep talking and you'll find my teeth before my lips.

[ But it's a low, defeated mumble, and Midnight lifts up again because fuck, oh fuck, he wants to kiss Alhaitham all the time, so badly, and no amount of self-respect can save him from that. He groans, sighs, and his eyes slip closed. Alhaitham's incredibly punchable lips are so nice and easy to kiss. ]

[In every, every, every iteration, Kaveh and Alhaitham are terrible for Midnight's heart.

But they're also terrible for each other's heart so maybe it's just a personality flaw.

Midnight takes the bait, and Alhaitham releases it to him. His lips part, pliant as he accepts Midnight once more into the wrap of his arms. The thread of fingers into his hair is loose, and Alhaitham kisses as if they have all the time in the world. Midnight wanted a kiss without sex. So Alhaitham kisses him as if it were a natural state. The sun rises, the sky is blue, and this needs no purpose but to exist.]

The City | Past Iterations

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