#but it'd probably be more a comedy play than hr0ny

[birbleafs]

[ficlet] the pursuit of knowledge

Was doing some writing practice with a few lines of dialogue yesterday, but it turned out a bit longer than a few lines? Lol. Anyway, here's a short comedic excerpt with Kavetham banter. Rating: Mature for suggestive language. Edited on 25/10/2023: Added a few extra lines, so I'm just leaving it as a short standalone one-shot (instead of a supposed WIP to something longer). Can also be read on AO3.

※※※ “In the pursuit of knowledge,” he had postulated impassively then, by way of conversation. As though they were merely discussing the weather—“Recent changes in Teyvat's overall climate do not simply lead to extreme rising temperatures and increased sandstorms in the Sumerian deserts; the extent of such precipitation pattern change also amplifies the dry seasons in the rainforests, causing further stress upon its population”—and not— “The therapeutic and health benefits of prosta—stimula—Tch. You… Seriously??” To which Kaveh’s brow only quirks up by a fraction in incredulity, before he settles with a reproving glare. Al-Haitham is neither dense nor an unintelligent man. He had fully expected outright rejection and disgust from his roommate—reasonable, justified even, at times—so it’s almost, almost a surprise when there’s a sudden glint in Kaveh’s eyes, his glare quickly morphing into something close to smugness, to daring. Hm. An intriguing development. “Fine, I’ll play along with your little game.” Kaveh scoffs loftily with an imperious wave of his hand. “Still, I have to ask… Well, I don’t ever want to imagine the kind of demented depravity lurking in that oversized, wrinkled brain of yours, but what’s in it for me if I agree to assist with this… experiment?” “Pleasure, obviously. Derived from the sheer fulfilment of base carnal desires, not to mention your own indulgences,” Al-Haitham says placidly with unabashed bluntness, revelling in silent amusement at the flush of crimson that flits over Kaveh’s expression and up to the tips of his ears. “Also, you’d finally be putting your irreverent junior firmly in place,” he adds, tone almost coy now and light with barely concealed mirth. “Surely even you wouldn’t pass up on such a rare chance, considering the pride and prestige you so often place on seniority.” He knows Kaveh doesn’t miss it—the way the left corner of Al-Haitham’s mouth twitches into a near-imperceptible curve behind the pages of his book even as he holds Kaveh’s gaze, bright like smouldering embers from a hearth. Kaveh clears his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing visibly as he composes himself. He taps his fingers against his chin; considers the proposition with the same air of pensiveness and focus he dons when revising his design drafts late into the night. Then, he reaches forward abruptly, snatching the book from Al-Haitham’s hands, and— “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Kaveh says with a hint of teeth just as Al-Haitham feels callous fingers tracing over the jewelled piercing in his chest—right before Kaveh pushes him back down roughly against the patterned sheets of the divan. “Do your worst, Senior,” Al-Haitham counters, defiant. Only to inhale sharply when Kaveh’s nails find their mark against a sliver of bare skin, his heated touch dipping further below Al-Haitham’s navel and over the slope of his hips. “Such an impertinent junior you are,” Kaveh retorts, curling his fingers in just so that has Al-Haitham shuddering bodily and arching against him once more. “And please, I'm a perfectionist. You’ll be begging for this experiment to end in no time.” “Getting off on trial and error, I see. Truly the relentless spirit of a distinguished scholar indeed.” Al-Haitham lets out an amused huff then, matching Kaveh’s dangerous grin with a minute, knowing smile of his own. Just as planned.  —End—