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It’s electric, the sensation of Kaveh’s fingers running along his chest, feeling up every part of his body, devouring his physical form in both tactile appreciation and a lust-ridden gaze that sears into his skin.
Fingertips settle on the gem on the center of his chest, glowing softly in the dim light of their bedroom, and his breath hitches. With lips quirked into a crooked smile as he watches every twitch of muscle beneath him Kaveh presses down on it lightly, rubbing along the right side edge.
Haitham’s reaction is instantaneous.
His head tilts back as his jaw falls open, spilling out breathy moans and whines, asking for more and less and everything Kaveh has to offer. He can feel his cock twitching where it rests buried deep inside of Kaveh’s body, and his limbs go taught when Kaveh draws his index finger back up to the peak of the gem and presses down, using his thumb to stroke the rest of it.
“I—” he starts, but is cut off when Kaveh rubs his palm against it. “I’m not going to last much longer like that Kaveh, I can’t—”
Kaveh hums, and then massages the lower half of it with his thumb.
“Oh, I think you can.”
With that he pulls his hips up and drops down hard, moving with any significant amount of effort for the first time that night since he stuffed himself with Haitham’s cock. He stills again after giving a taste of that endless pleasure, and Haitham’s mind is left grasping at the sensation as it flees from the forefront of his mind, replaced by an undying thirst for more.
It’s agonizing, just the way he enjoys it.
“Please, Kaveh—”
He begs, but a more specific plea fails to come to mind, despite his intimate knowledge of language. He is overpowered by that want, and any further words than Kaveh— please— I— die on his lips, left to dissipate into the air between him and Kaveh with little resolution. Kaveh smiles at his stutter, tracing a fingernail along the edge of the gem, where it binds with his skin. He can’t hold back his moan at the feeling—sharp, fiery ecstasy that short-circuits the parts of his brain that control thought.
“You weren’t kidding, huh? Just a simple touch—” He rubs the base of the gem with his thumb, and Haitham whimpers. “—is enough to send you spiraling. What a weakness, what a treat…”
He leans forward, breathing close against Haitham’s lips, which itch for him to press forward and lock his with Kaveh’s own. His eyes are drawn down to the sight of them—plump, rosy, shining with saliva from the swipe of his tongue as he stares down at Haitham and then further south to the gleaming gem on his body. A menacing gaze, and one which promises a night that’ll plague Haitham’s wet dreams for the rest of his life.
He can’t wait.
The sound that is produced when Kaveh uses both hands to stroke the sides of the gem as he clenches down on his cock is inhuman, and he could hardly be expected to replicate the angles at which he stretches his body—back arched, toes curled, limbs extended as far as they can go—to be replicated with any ease at all in a normal setting. Kaveh watches all of this with awe as he continues to toy with the thing, experimenting with different angles to rub at and stimulate it, all with a coy smile spread across his face.
“I should have tried this a while ago.”
He closes his legs around Haitham’s waist, pulling him in closer. He only brushes the gem lightly as he does so, giving him a momentary relief from the constant waves of jolting pleasure. His heart beats wildly in his chest and his body is sweaty, hot. Kaveh doesn’t seem to mind, only brushing stray hairs away from his face as he lays there, out of his mind with pleasure.
“How much longer can you last like this?” Kaveh asks, intuitive enough to expect little in terms of intelligible response. “Do you think you can make it until I cum too? Are you up for the challenge?”
Haitham nods, and Kaveh brings the hand down to his cheek with a squeeze, then brings it to rest on his shoulder for stability.
“Good.” He praises, meeting Haitham’s lazy gaze. “Let’s see how well you do.”
As soon as the last word leaves his mouth, Kaveh rises with his thighs before slamming back down hard, sighing at what must be some of the first pleasure of his own he’d experienced that night. Haitham tries his best to be good—to lay there and let Kaveh do as he pleases while holding on from the edge, lasting long enough for Kaveh to use his body for his own pleasure.
It works, for a while. He grits his teeth and distracts himself by observing the details of Kaveh’s body, bouncing up and down on top of him with glee. His hair is longer on the left side than on the right, a strange fashion choice but one that Haitham himself matches, so he cannot judge. On his neck, just beneath his jawline, is a small beauty mark. Kaveh was always embarrassed when he made a point of noticing, but it was among his favorite places to smear a heated kiss as he licks along Kaveh’s neck. A slick smack and a moan from Kaveh interrupt his thoughts, and he steels himself.
His resolve can’t break. He’ll do this for Kaveh.
On Kaveh’s hip, a birthmark, lightly shaded and easy to miss but not when you are Haitham, who’d cataloged his lover’s body more times than Kaveh is likely aware of. Rare complications sometimes befall him, causing him to be hardly able to sleep. Rather than labor in the quiet of nighttime, he typically chooses to watch over Kaveh as he rests. He’d first noticed the birthmark on one of these nights, when Kaveh’s sleep shirt had ridden up above his stomach as he tossed and turned, exposing the sight of the mark on his hip to Haitham’s eyes in the gentle glow of moonlight. It had been wonderful to learn something new about his lover like that. Incredible, amazing, spectacular, ecstatic, electrifying—
Fingers are brushing against the gem on his chest again, with Kaveh sitting above him, still paying close attention to his responses to his every touch.
“You were getting distracted, Haitham.” He teases, grinding his hips down onto Haitham, who mourns the lost focus. “We can’t have that, can we?”
“I won’t—I—”
Kaveh covers his mouth with two fingers, silencing his explanations.
“I know. I want you to be with me entirely when you fall apart.”
When Haitham grows silent, complacent, his smile grows.
“I bet…”
A finger tip-toes up his torso, tapping along his abdomen.
“...that if I were to command it right here, right now…”
It reaches the base of the gem, only shifted by the fast, hard expansions of Haitham’s chest with every breath, lungs straining with the effort to appear calm.
“...you would cum.”
Kaveh brushes his finger against the peak, outermost point of the gem, and he does.
His mind blanks, all senses drowned in white-hot pleasure as he spills inside of Kaveh, who seems all-too happy with his early end. It takes a while to come down from the high, having experienced this sort of pleasure for the first time tonight—with a partner that is, at least.
When he was younger, still new to adulthood, he’d experimented with his body plenty, and during those sessions he’d realized how utterly strange the fixture on his chest is, particularly given its unusual ability to arouse him. At the time, after a few hasty orgasms at the machinations of his own hand pressed to the thing, he’d sworn it off, thinking it unusual and the less preferable way to please himself.
It seems he’d grown oversensitive, in the absence of practice.
There’s only a brief rest before Kaveh continues, seemingly hell-bent on reaching his own orgasm with Haitham inside him, overstimulated or not.
His whines are pathetic, riddled with half-baked pleas for Kaveh to slow down, ride gentler, wait a while—or to keep going, fuck himself harder, please, please, use him to bring himself pleasure at any cost to Haitham. He’d go mad with pleasure if it meant Kaveh would be satisfied with him, proud of his performance.
Tears form in his eyes and spill out, falling down his cheeks as Kaveh grinds down one last time, a lovely moan wrenched out of his lips by his own efforts, and cums, staining Haitham’s torso with the evidence of his pleasure. When his breathing calms and he comes to his senses, Kaveh pulls off and reaches to clean the remnants of it off of Haitham’s chest—and he stops him, holding Kaveh’s arm by the wrist.
“No.” He gulps. “Leave it there.”
“Alright.” Kaveh cedes, and then examines the rest of his body. When his gaze falls far enough from Haitham’s face he smirks and Haitham flushes, expression unchanged.
“Ready again so fast?”
“For you, of course I am.”
Crimson dusts Kaveh’s own cheeks when he says that, and Haitham pats himself on the back for managing to fluster Kaveh while he’s still in the depths of this mood, less easily shaken than he usually is.
“Well then.” Kaveh starts, pushing him back onto the bed. “I guess that makes it my duty as your lover to take care of this.” He wraps a hand around the base of Haitham’s cock, and his breath hitches in his throat. “Is that what my baby wants?”
A beat of silence, and a bated breath.
“Yes, please.”
“Good boy.”
Kaveh doesn’t let go of his cock as he leans over top of Haitham, crawling closer. At first, Haitham thinks he’s trying to kiss him—and so he opens his mouth just slightly, eager to reciprocate the liplock—but the Kaveh never reaches that close, instead stopping just before his jaw and descending.
He connects the dots far too late.
A sharp moan is forced from his kiss-eager lips as Kaveh’s mouth falls onto the gem on his chest, licking along its surface. His tongue is precise, strong, and the feeling of it against the gem is something he’s never been able to experience, new and exhilarating and overwhelming when combined with the feeling of Kaveh stroking his cock.
After just a few moments, Kaveh’s lips pop off of the gem with a slick sound, a string of saliva trailing from it to his mouth.
“You make this so easy. How do you want it, Haitham?”
He tries to think over his options, but really, truly, he can only see one.
“Your mouth, again, please.”
Desperation seeps into his voice in what must be a shameful display of his lust for Kaveh, but Kaveh has never once minded his shamelessness before and today is no exception. He goes back to the licking with excitement, trying more experimental manipulations of Haitham’s body. He tugs and sucks in time, circles the peak with the tip of his tongue, lathers it in saliva. Every new thing he tries out on Haitham is a step closer to impending orgasm and his hands find the sheets beneath him, gripping onto them hard to ground himself.
Kaveh hums against the gem, tongue pressed against one side—and oh, if that isn’t a sensation that would kill a weaker man. How lucky he is, for Kaveh to be willing to treat him like this, to take him apart and put him back together again. His love, his closest friend, his home.
“Thank you.” He breathes out, hardly there, and Kaveh’s eyes meet his, a surprised look in scarlet eyes. Haitham’s own eyes water again—the combination of pleasure and emotion is unbearable, and his chest aches with the desire to express it in more meaningful words.
Kaveh shuts his eyes and goes back to his ministrations, but not without reaching a hand of his own up to lace his fingers through Haitham’s, squeezing them tightly.
He understands, Haitham thinks, and with that the simple brush of Kaveh’s teeth against the gem, a misstep in an otherwise smooth performance, is enough to bring him to the edge and send him cascading over it. Kaveh tries to cup his hand around Haitham’s cock and catch the spill of seed, but it’s not enough and his spend mixes with Kaveh’s, left-over on his torso.
He breathes slowly, steadily, but only due to what little command of his body he’s retained.
His mind runs wild.
Tears spill down his cheeks.
“Are you okay?” Kaveh asks, concerned, and he nods. Kaveh’s eyes search over him and his shoulders relax when his eyes halt on the corner of Haitham’s lips, curled into a smile.
“Okay.” Kaveh says, reassuring himself as much as Haitham. “Let’s clean this up then, and then we can rest.”
As Kaveh walks away from the bed and towards the bathroom, Haitham takes the moment to appreciate a full view of the older man’s body, graceful in its stride despite the strenuous activity they’d just gone through together. He notes the tilt of his hips, the way his legs are so close to tangling together in every step he takes, the bounce of his hair as he walks, shifting delicately across exposed shoulders. When he reaches the doorway Kaveh turns, looks back, meets his eyes.
Haitham wipes away the remains of his tears.
Yes, he’s more than happy with that plan.