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Kaveh sits in front of the insertable with his face determined. This method of modification is the one with the least probable positive outcome, but, for some reason, Kaveh is convinced this one will work.
Weeks of studying articles and journals from Kshahrewar and Amurta, trying his Vision, various spells, and things as such to come to this magnificent (he hopes) moment, where his dumb plan will finally have the item required for the bespoke plan to be successfully executed.
Kaveh reaches for the insertable and picks it up. Not much has changed about it appearance-wise, but it was more than anything he saw before (he doesn’t want to think of that one time he tried Dendro infusion, and insertable turned poisonous green for a few seconds, before shooting out a vine that almost punched Kaveh in the eye). His breath hitched. It was mainly color. From the saturated light pink it turned something more natural. Something that could pass off as skin. Kaveh brought it closer and inspected it some more. The way the hole looked changed too, from a clearly fabric mold to a very… real-looking hole. Kaveh swallows.
Okay. Okay, this is something. But, does it work as Kaveh’s planned? Only one way to check. Kaveh coats his finger in oil and brings the tip to the rim, rubbing a gentle circle around it. He instantly jolts, squeaking — an unmistakable sensation of something slick rubbing around his hole. He would’ve never believed if someone told him this was possible, and yet, there they are. He swears he can see the hole of the toy clench as he himself reflexively does at the touch. He grits his teeth, braces himself, and pushes the finger inside the toy, the sensation of intrusion instantly mimicked in his ass.
Fuck.
Kaveh lets out a breathless moan, closing his eyes. Gets on his stomach, undresses — the fact that he’s sitting on the bed, fully dressed, ass pressed to the mattress is taking him out of it a little, the contrast between the thing that he is definitely experiencing and the impossibility of it too bothersome. Slowly fingers the toy, his hips moving involuntarily to meet the core of an invisible, non-existent hand. Groans as he finds his prostate — and all of it becomes worthwhile.
Because, even if this thing doesn’t serve its initial purpose and Kaveh’s plan fails, he’ll just keep this thing for his own leisure. No more uncomfortable flicking of his wrist in the position that accentuates his already ever-present pain running from his fingertips and all the way up to the shoulder. This is way friendlier to the advice of Kaveh’s therapist to not over-exert his hand (which he ignores anyway — what, is he supposed to quit his job now?), and it feels a little better, because, while Kaveh… definitely does fuck himself, it doesn’t quite feel like that. Huh. If he performs the same procedure on a dildo, will it work, too? Perhaps, if he ties the toy to Alhaitham’s cock…
No. No, that’s weird. And can backfire spectacularly. And, frankly, won’t be needed, because this thing already exists, and does its job quite well, and, unless Alhaitham decides to not use the insertable, he’ll be getting the exact same sensations without walking an extra mile. Besides, Kaveh’s almost positive that Alhaitham will be more than happy to use the onahole.
After all, the guy’s clearly been frustrated (and so was Kaveh), their, seemingly, equally non-existent sex lives leading to more arguments than necessary. And it’s not like just because Alhaitham’s wearing his earpiece, Kaveh suddenly lost the ability to hear, too. Archons, how many times had he already been distracted by the noises coming from Alhaitham’s room in the middle of the night as Kaveh was working on his projects? Just… those sloppy thrusts into a hand, quiet huffs and grunts, Alhaitham’s deep voice sometimes breaking through as he was nearing the climax… The way Kaveh’s hands, seemingly, lost the ability to do anything in moments like this, head too occupied with the image of his junior bucking his hips forward, fucking into his fist, eyes… closed, definitely.
Perhaps, imagining that it’s not his hand, it’s someone. Someone else’s hand jerking him off, fingers wrapping around the thick cock — Kaveh had to barge into the bathroom as Alhaitham was showering enough times to know exactly what it looks like — forming a tight ring for Alhaitham to thrust into.
Perhaps, in front of Alhaitham’s eyelids, it doesn’t end there. Perhaps, the person gets on their knees, wrapping their lips around the glistening with precome head, tongue licking the shaft, mouth taking in some of the length, nesting it on their tongue. Perhaps, the sensation will make the person moan, and it will send a pleasant vibration down Alhaitham’s cock.
Perhaps, it will cause Alhaitham to want more, something more substantial, and he will wrap their hair (maybe, it’s long), around his fist, setting up a tempo he likes. Perhaps, he’ll grow tired of shallow thrusts and hold the person’s head in place, slowly pushing the thick crown inside their throat, all the way down, till the person’s nose brushes against his pelvis.
And, if the person Alhaitham’s imagining is anything like Kaveh, they surely have a sensitive gag reflex that will bring instant tears to their eyes. Would Alhaitham like the image? Move his hand quicker? Imagine himself fucking their throat to feel more of the tight, wet, heat around his cock, to see more of the tears on their face as they struggle to keep up with Alhaitham using them for his pleasure?
Does Alhaitham like praising his partners? He might pull his cock out and slap it against the person’s tongue, or cheek with a “you’re doing good.” Alhaitham might then imagine himself changing their positions, flipping them on their stomach, and fucking them as a reward for doing so well. Whispering something into their ear as he rolls his hips in those quick, rough motions that Kaveh imagines based on the sound of Alhaitham fucking his hand…
Fuck, he’s so worked up, so hard, fingers relentlessly fucking the onahole, each brush against his prostate making Kaveh gasp. He’s so painfully hard — he needs something, anything, and his free hand almost reaches to touch his cock, but then he stops and looks at the toy.
He presses inside the wet, stretched onahole before he can think about what he wants to do, and nearly passes out — his cock is nowhere as big as Alhaitham’s is, not as thick and long, but the sensation of both getting fucked and thrusting into a warm, tight hole compensates fully for that detail, his mind incoherent, so much going on that he thinks he might pass out. Kaveh grinds into it desperately, biting the corner of the pillow to muffle his sounds, feeling like he’s on the brink of sanity, all the things in his mind substituted with the image of Alhaitham, the sounds he makes, the imaginary weight of his palms on Kaveh’s hips as he fucks into him. the pillow under his face is wet, the pace of his hips broken, mind torn between the desire to get away from stimulation and chase more, until he’s crushed by it, until…
Kaveh comes with a broken moan, collapsing back on his stomach — a couple of sloppy thrusts to ride it out, an almost pained hiss as he pulls the toy from his cock. His head’s pounding. Some part of his brain that hasn’t been fried to a crisp by what just happened is ecstatic from a purely scientific perspective: the testing has been successful.
Now, to somehow slip the onahole to Alhaitham…
Kaveh’s plan is not smart, not subtle, not elegant: clean and disinfect the toy, wrap it into a pretty box, go to the Adventurer’s guild, get it anonymously delivered to Alhaitham. Hope Alhaitham doesn’t think too much about it, doesn’t suspect the thing’s cursed, doesn’t throw it out immediately (Kaveh’s in so much trouble if he does). Sheer dumb luck in all honesty.
Kaveh doesn’t have many options.
His silly commission is completed, he begrudgingly counts the Mora and gives it to Katheryne — he is very distantly self-aware of the mountains he’s climbing for the opportunity to get fucked by Alhaitham (his junior who didn’t know how to fucking shave when they met in the Akademiya!), but, for some reason, it doesn’t stop him. Because… Because it could have been anyone, right?
Honestly, he could have just bought a dildo and had fun, but… But he’s doing his junior a favor because he’s clearly frustrated by something, and Kaveh, being the good senior he is, is just trying to alleviate some of that for Alhaitham. He doubts Alhaitham would go and buy sex toys himself, after all.
Yes. Yes, all of it is because he’s trying to do Alhaitham a solid. Right.
Definitely.
Alhaitham’s home when Kaveh arrives. The box isn’t anywhere where Kaveh can see it, Alhaitham says something about Kaveh needing to replenish their coffee supplies if he’s going to drink that much, Kaveh calls him frugal — there’s a regular exchange of bites where Kaveh barely needs to think of answers, or listen to Alhaitham’s words, all of it happening on its own as Kaveh chops a quick salad for dinner.
He almost wants to ask Alhaitham something. He knows better.
Then, the question comes.
“Kaveh, have you ordered anything recently?”
Kaveh pretends to think.
“Well, there’s this paint they produce in Fontaine, I’ve ordered a few base colors to try. Why?”
Alhaitham watches him. Kaveh can feel it without even lifting his eyes off the cutting board — sometimes, Alhaitham’s eyes are so intense like he can see through the surface. Like if he stares hard enough, in his eyes Kaveh’s clothes and skin will grow transparent and he will see how quickly Kaveh’s heart is beating.
Kaveh’s thankful Alhaitham doesn’t have these abilities, so, as long as Kaveh doesn’t do anything stupid, his secret is safe. Kaveh slides the chopped lettuce to the bowl, lowers the fire under the rice, placing a towel under the lid, and looks at Alhaitham questioningly. Holds the gaze, no matter how much he wants to turn away, lifts his eyebrow — Alhaitham thoughtfully bites on his inner lip, and then nods shortly, as if getting an answer to some question he’s had.
“Nothing.”
That’s all Kaveh gets before Alhaitham turns his back and leaves the kitchen.
Nothing? Nothing?! Kaveh almost chokes on his saliva in indignance! If he brought up something about Kaveh ordering something, couldn’t he have elaborated on anything? Mention a weird delivery? Maybe tell Kaveh what he thought of it?
Kaveh can’t say anything, but he can’t stay silent either.
“No, I’ve got everything covered here and don’t need any help with dinner! Thanks for asking, Alhaitham!”
That remains unanswered, and Kaveh aggressively stirs the onions in the pan. This brat.
Honestly, when did he become this way? Who does he complain to with an “I want my sweet junior back?” Kaveh silently fumes, sending chunks of meat to join the onions.
Then, he feels it.
Two slick fingers pressing into him, spreading his hole wide. The intrusion’s so sudden, the cutting board and the knife fall from Kaveh’s hands, flying on the floor, a loud “clang!” against ceramics. The fingers quickly disappear from Kaveh’s ass, and Kaveh gets a chance to recover and lift the board and the knife from the floor, shaky fingers scrambling before he gets a good grip.
“Are you okay?” Kaveh jolts, almost dropping everything again — damn Alhaitham with his cat-like ability to sneak up!
“Yes,” Kaveh stutters, straightening; ah, there’s this scanning gaze again.
A light frown between Alhaitham’s brows. Kaveh tries to not fumble too much. Fixes his hair. So, Alhaitham didn’t throw the toy out. Great.
“You don’t look so well. I can finish making the dinner,” Alhaitham offers.
Now, Kaveh is not into the idea of getting fucked through a magical device while trying to cook — and if he turns the proposal down, that’s exactly what awaits him. He nods, faking a cough.
“Uh… That would actually be great,” he mutters. “Thank you.”
“You should rest. I’ve got it.”
Kaveh tries his best to not give too much thought to the way Alhaitham seems to watch him as he heads to his bedroom. If the walls weren’t thin enough to let through unwanted noise, he’d scream into his pillow: why didn’t he think about this when he came up with his genius plan? He has client meetings and formal dinners in the evenings sometimes! What if Alhaitham decides to use the toy while he’s at one of those? And how many times can he realistically feign sickness to distract Alhaitham with household chores?
He… didn’t think this through, now, did he?
Means only one thing: he’ll get through today, somehow. Then, he’ll need to find a way to dispose of the onahole before this entire situation turns bad. Disastrous.
He doesn’t feel like resting in the sense that Alhaitham meant; there are some projects he needs to work on, but the noise will get to Alhaitham, and he’ll figure out that Kaveh’s lied about not feeling well, and back to kitchen Kaveh goes, navigating the sharp objects and fire while his roommate fucks the toy — and, by extension, Kaveh. He begrudgingly lays down.
Closes his eyes when his bedroom door opens, Alhaitham’s figure standing in the frame for a few seconds before placing something on Kaveh’s bedside and quietly exiting.
A cup of tea.
Kaveh doesn’t know why this makes him smile but has a strong hunch as to why it makes him feel bad. He tries pushing the feeling away. Slowly drinks it, strange warmth spreading in his chest. It persists throughout the evening when Alhaitham comes back, and Kaveh pretends he’s stirred awake by Alhaitham softly shaking his shoulder and saying that dinner’s ready, when Kaveh is about to clean up the table, but Alhaitham sends him back to bed. When the tea is renewed on his bedside, when a quiet ‘goodnight’ is whispered to him.
The wait that follows isn’t long. Just as long as it takes for Alhaitham to set comfortably in his room and pull out the toy and the oil from wherever he keeps them. The fingers press into Kaveh’s ass again, stretching them. Kaveh hisses, hand flying over his mouth — if Alhaitham and he really had sex and Alhaitham did this, Kaveh would have given a piece of his mind about how it’s not necessary to push fingers inside so roughly, how it doesn’t hurt to be gentle and attentive with a partner.
Well. Given that in Alhaitham’s eyes this is just a toy and not an item connected to a real human’s body, he doesn’t have much right to judge his junior on being, uh. How does he even put it? Rush? Inconsiderate? Kaveh closes his eyes — fuck. Alhaitham’s fingers don’t look that much thicker than Kaveh’s, but they feel that way. The stretch stings, the thrusts punch little gasps out of Kaveh’s throat as he tries his best to keep quiet. Fuck, this is…
A third finger joins, motions quick and methodical, the accidental grazes against Kaveh’s prostate enough for him to bite into his palm, cock chubbing up in his pants. Kaveh slips another hand into his pants, stroking himself. Fuck. Fuck.
So many years spent side by side, the hollowness of absence Kaveh never realized until that night that brought them back together — awkward coexistence that followed — and this is how it happens? Not a drunken argument, faces too close, neither able to turn away when the moment comes? Not a decision to talk it out, a moment of wounded honesty, eyes softening at the realizations both about themselves and each other? Not a state-issued lockdown that gets them crammed in this same space where they can’t avoid each other for too long no matter how much they try, the bad case of cabin fever making them do things they don’t quite understand until the sobriety of morning after hits and they find themselves entangled in the bed?
No. Yes. This is very real. They don’t have sex for any of those reasons. They have sex because Kaveh has decided that giving his roommate a modified sex toy is a good idea, and now Kaveh lays in his bed, cock squeezed in his hand, three fingers opening him with little regard. Kaveh doubts it was a good idea for what feels like the hundredth time this evening.
A sensation of something pouring right into his hole makes Kaveh jolt, face burning the second he realizes what’s happening. There’s now an image in his head of Alhaitham pouring oil directly in him, and, heavens above… Is this something… something Alhaitham just does? It can be to make the toy feel better, but what if it's not? What if Alhaitham likes to drench his partners like this in lube? Would he have Kaveh with his face pressed into the pillow, ass up, like he’s presenting? Would he press on Kaveh’s nape to keep him down as he lets the oil flow from the bottle, until it leaks from his hole, cool liquid dripping down Kaveh’s perineum and right on his balls? Would he say something filthy — Alhaitham certainly knows of the impact the words can sometimes have — something crude, comment on how wet his senior is for him? Spread some lube on Kaveh’s cock, or collect it on his fingers and fuck it back into Kaveh’s hole, making Kaveh let out pathetic whimpers, beg for Alhaitham’s cock?
A cock pushes inside his hole, one quick fluid motion filling Kaveh up — Alhaitham’s big. His cock reaches so deep, stretches Kaveh so much that it’s hard to have any thoughts, to keep himself in control and not let out the sounds he oh so desperately holds back. He’s not given much room to adjust before Alhaitham starts fucking into the toy, and… shit.
Shit.
If the sloppy forceful thrusts are not a tangible proof of Kaveh’s thoughts about Alhaitham being touch-deprived, Kaveh doesn’t know what is. Kaveh throws his head back, lips shut tightly, hips bucking forward, fucking into his hand. And then, he hears Alhaitham.
Alhaitham doesn’t even try holding back — thinking that Kaveh’s asleep, probably — his grunts and huffs so much louder than when he was jerking himself off, occasional curses (Kaveh tries not to pay attention to the way a realization that Alhaitham knows how to curse sends a shiver down his spine) slipping between his ragged breaths. Kaveh wants to whine.
He wants to be taken by Alhaitham, muscular chest pressed to his back, hot breaths against his skin, the wanton squelch of their slicked skin slapping a rhythm to those sounds Alhaitham’s making. Wants him close, wants a hand yank at his hair to angle his face so that Alhaitham can kiss him. Wants a bruising grip on his waist, an occasional spank to land on his ass, true proximity and intimacy — but all he gets is this, a sensation of cock pounding him relentlessly and Alhaitham’s hushed, breathless grunts. The rest materializes out of thin air, images woven from iridescent threads, making him drool, and roll his eyes, and stroke his cock harder, swallow his moans. They pulse before his closed eyelids, dance and shift as he works himself up, clenching as Alhaitham fucks the toy quicker, in deep short thrusts that leave Kaveh’s prostate under an unyielding attack, bringing him to the edge in no time.
Kaveh gasps for breath, coming into his palm, body going limp, eyes rolling back. He lays there, dazed, biting on his lips through Alhaitham’s final few thrusts before he buries himself deep inside the hole, filling it with his hot come — Kaveh’s tired, and wants to be in his embrace, to inhale the clean, fresh notes of Alhaitham’s perfume, to feel the warmth of his breath against his face, sharing the blanket — kiss him, maybe?
Behind the wall, he can hear the short, exhorted gasps disappear into silence. Kaveh hugs a pillow next to him, too exhausted to get up — when his eyelids grow heavy and his head sinks more into the pillow, he can almost make himself imagine that against his body he feels the calm rise and fall of one’s chest.