[ kalim's whims are war-torn, frayed right down to the faded fibers. he wants to kiss jamil breathless and senseless, steal the very taste from his tongue and rob him of his scheming mind. he wants to break away and savor every inch of skin jamil is baring, let his gaze chase the fabric as it falls away, and drink in the perfection it's uncovering. he wants to touch, weave himself in -- his ardent adoration, his desperate devotion -- until jamil can feel him viscerally. he wants so much, too much; it's an addiction he can't tear himself from until jamil drifts away of his own accord, and brings kalim to heel with a single word.
there's a spark now, a fervent fire catching behind kalim's eyes and blazing mischief in his grin. somehow -- and it's a deep dig, nigh impossible despite that bottomless well of patience and goodwill -- kalim summons up the fortitude to even the playing field, at least a little. it's hard with so many layers and scarves, but he leaves a trail of shed garments in his wake, a flurried dervish that bares him down to his slacks (and his headwrap went with the hastily-shed shirt, but the rest of the adornments are too troublesome; the jewelry will have to stay, for now, clatter and ring though it may), before he's close enough to catch jamil around his waist and tip them toward the bed. ]
You're coming with me!
[ so stated, while kalim collapses over the bolsters and drags jamil over him. the bare skin is distracting enough, and every point of contact lights up kalim's every nerve, bathes him in pleasured warmth until he's dizzy and gasping from it. maybe it's only imagined, but kalim could swear this feels a hundred-thousand times more intense with the enormity of gratitude behind it. as if he's so thankful to have his hands on jamil that his very nerves are soaking in the sensation. jamil must be able to see it, radiating in kalim's smile while he bites his lip, fingers following every dip and rise over jamil's stomach, his chest, his neck, until they come to rest beneath his jaw and guide their gaze to meet again. ]
Here he is, my beloved. [ timbre so warm, eyes so soft. ] My heart, my soul.
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there's a spark now, a fervent fire catching behind kalim's eyes and blazing mischief in his grin. somehow -- and it's a deep dig, nigh impossible despite that bottomless well of patience and goodwill -- kalim summons up the fortitude to even the playing field, at least a little. it's hard with so many layers and scarves, but he leaves a trail of shed garments in his wake, a flurried dervish that bares him down to his slacks (and his headwrap went with the hastily-shed shirt, but the rest of the adornments are too troublesome; the jewelry will have to stay, for now, clatter and ring though it may), before he's close enough to catch jamil around his waist and tip them toward the bed. ]
You're coming with me!
[ so stated, while kalim collapses over the bolsters and drags jamil over him. the bare skin is distracting enough, and every point of contact lights up kalim's every nerve, bathes him in pleasured warmth until he's dizzy and gasping from it. maybe it's only imagined, but kalim could swear this feels a hundred-thousand times more intense with the enormity of gratitude behind it. as if he's so thankful to have his hands on jamil that his very nerves are soaking in the sensation. jamil must be able to see it, radiating in kalim's smile while he bites his lip, fingers following every dip and rise over jamil's stomach, his chest, his neck, until they come to rest beneath his jaw and guide their gaze to meet again. ]
Here he is, my beloved. [ timbre so warm, eyes so soft. ] My heart, my soul.