[ 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.]
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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. ]
no subject
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.]
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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. ]
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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.]