desertrain: (Default)
Kalim Al-Asim ([personal profile] desertrain) wrote2022-06-24 01:38 am
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cursing: (pero yo la voy a coger)

[personal profile] cursing 2022-07-03 01:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Your promises should mean something.

﴾ is the only argument jamil really has, and even then, it's the sole virtue kalim can actually lord above him. only one of them has broken a promise — in such a disastrous display that jamil was almost glad for azul's intervention and the prospect of not having to live with his own ineptitude much longer — and that person is not kalim. he's solid, when it comes to that at least.

in a lot of other ways, too. kalim can always be counted on for a smile, something jamil never even knew to appreciate in him before it went away. it turns out that the absence of all that sunshine is a far greater loss than he'd previously surmised; there's just this hint of sadness in his eyes now, a gloomy cast over that decadently-honeyed face, and oh but jamil can't fucking stand it. his eyes narrow viciously as kalim's touch snares and spreads. ﴿


I know perfectly well what I can and cannot do. I will be going nowhere until your work is complete and you are cleaned and tucked into bed.

﴾ and then he'll wait, as always, in the shadows of kalim's room for the same threat that never comes. it really doesn't matter if it does or does not become a reality; it's happened before, at home, and the only thing that jamil can control is that he will be here, more prepared than all the times before.

to speak of such a thing as if it is even an option cuts so much deeper than kalim will ever know. or maybe he has little hints here and there, in the way jamil's perfectly manicured claws snare him by the collar of his shirt and drag him closer still, maybe even by the proprietorial manner in which jamil dusts kalim's hair away from his face until it's perfectly arranged once more. he is bold enough now to look entirely pleased with himself too, his brow arched smugly as his fingers slither up the back of kalim's neck and seize the finer, shorter hairs at its nape. ﴿


And now you cannot make me, since you value my agency so much.
cursing: (dialup noises)

[personal profile] cursing 2022-07-08 01:41 pm (UTC)(link)
﴾ there's a hint of tension in jamil's fingers, but it is largely imperceptible and very much short-lived. what a scene it would make if kalim were to pick up on the fact that jamil knows, that all of this ache and torment is the only thing he sees anymore when he gazes upon his master. for all that has transpired between them, jamil has no idea what to do with the sickly twist in his gut, the unrest scraping beneath his skin when he is reminded that the one danger he has failed to protect kalim from is himself. it was never supposed to be this way.

but there is no changing the past now, not really. not for very long, at least — a hypnotic word here or there can ease the tension for an hour or two, but like all spellwords, they quickly burn away and leave behind the raw truth. it is a thing that jamil is still learning to deal with when lies were sovereign for as long as he can honestly remember, as awkward as a newborn fawn taking its first steps on uneven soil.

still — very tempting when he meets kalim's eyes, just to speak all his pain away and let them crash together like the tides, natural and imperative. instead, his fingers spread for the soft dusting of kalim's kisses, and close in on the last of them, framing the curve of his cheek in a gesture that would look loving if not for the wall of ice in jamil's gaze. ﴿


How refreshing to hear. I suppose you deserve a reward for your clarity.

﴾ his other hand is busy, burrowing beneath the collar of kalim's soft sweater, drifting over his shoulder to squeeze and stroke. his touch is as capable as the rest of him, divining the tiniest points of tension as easily as if they were calling to him personally. it is almost sweet until his fingers curl, grasping and inextricable as jamil pretends for a moment to deliberate and ultimately decides: ﴿

You can stop talking and go to bed. Now, Kalim.
cursing: (dale papi)

[personal profile] cursing 2022-07-10 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
﴾ and there he is, the kalim that jamil knows better than anyone else in the whole world, his greedy mouth and grasping hands and the way he fits against jamil like his servant was built to be his own personal harbor. another duty jamil is honored and obliged to fulfill; if kalim is made to fit nowhere else, then there is a power and security in it that is absolutely intoxicating, such a rush that jamil can hardly help burning in kind as his fingers claw impatiently at kalim's shoulder. thrilled as he is, kalim deserves a little attitude for making him wait, for disrupting their well-practiced choreography with what, insecurity? guilt? all useless habits for a wealthy man to develop and jamil must continue to discourage them at all costs.

for this, he's always been pleased to do the opposite. even more so now, not because it feels like a reassurance that kalim will not change his mind, certainly not because the exposed truth has also made it so that kalim has to reconfirm jamil as his choice every time their eager lips meet — but because it is his own meager act of retribution, of course, pressing close and loosening his top and letting it fall down around his shoulders knowing full well that he's captured kalim's eye better than anyone else will ever be able to. ﴿


Kalim—

﴾ it's fine enough if kalim swallows up his protests and steals his breath away; jamil has work to do in the interim, winding against him and out of the silken fall of his clothes, pausing only once in his dutiful ritual to pass a careful touch over the full shape of kalim's cheek. it isn't quite the arid draft wafting in through the window that puts a shiver in his bare shoulders as he forces them apart once more, not turning away, but luring kalim deeper into the only path that makes any sense to him. ﴿

Bed.
cursing: (pic#14345777)

[personal profile] cursing 2022-07-10 05:04 pm (UTC)(link)
﴾ jamil senses it like a thread of smoke, immediately and sourly. his low scowl, his muffled "no, kalim—" are gone with all the garments left to wrinkle on the ground, swept up in the same gilded maelstrom that spits him out the other side almost — very nearly — shaking with laughter. it's incredibly inconsiderate when jamil is obviously not in the mood for fun or whimsy in any measure, but the trouble is in the action of rebuking kalim for his transgressions when his heart is so full of warmth and delight.

because it does end so perfectly, credit is due for that. their dance is a lifetime in the making and kalim is nothing if not a capable partner, his hands in all the right places, every breath and touch as familiar to him as the home that they share. not that kalim ever misses an opportunity to knock him off his rhythm, revoltingly rude when he's already swept jamil off his feet in the most literal sense, freezing him in his own skin when he is only just beginning to enjoy this moment of shameless indulgence. his fingers still as they skate over kalim's chest and his face runs red with a deep flush.

if only there wasn't so much happening in kalim's eyes, perhaps jamil would have a better response. as it is, his mind blanks instead, and the hand that had been holding on to him moments before flattens against kalim's cheek and turns his face away instead. ﴿


Don't want to hear it.

﴾ if kalim keeps speaking — there's no way for jamil to know what will become of it, but he knows in that dependable, never, ever wrong part of himself that something terrible will happen. world-ending catastrophe levels of terrible. if he has to smother kalim a little as he rises up above him, if he has to pin him to the bed by his jaw and snap his hips cruelly, then kalim should be glad that jamil is doing this for the sake of them both. ﴿

You've such a restless mouth tonight. I wish you'd spend this energy more productively, Kalim.
cursing: (pic#14328076)

[personal profile] cursing 2022-07-12 01:31 pm (UTC)(link)
well who else's responsibility would it be? perish the thought of one of those slimy eel brothers getting into that decadent mouth; jamil would have to scrub it out with bleach for the rest of kalim's life. no, it is his responsibility, and for that, he heaves a great sigh even as his stormy eyes are charting the progress of kalim's wandering lips, his fingers wicking along the shape of them indulgently. ﴿

Must I hold your hand in everything?

﴾ minimal bitching; that is all he has to say about retrieving kalim's other hand, as if one out of the two is not nearly enough to hold him. perhaps not the way jamil is moving, rocking on kalim's lap as he coasts that captured hand down the bare skin of his belly and sways his sagging pants down low. not impatient but imperative, and only because kalim is being such a provocateur. ﴿

I like you here.

﴾ still spoiled as a little sultan, but beneath him, eyes aglow like fire rubies and a trove of pearls in his gleaming smile. slithering up kalim's chest feels like seizing the finest throne in the world, and there's really no helping the way that his fingers smooth over kalim's face and wash over his mouth; jamil isn't the type to dote, but a little coveting in private quarters never hurt anyone. irreparably.

besides, kalim has no reason to go anywhere. jamil feeds him every inch of skin he bares, winding his hips against those luxurious lips as his fingers climb to catch in his hair. ﴿


I suppose— ﴾ a sharp, catching breath swells behind clenched teeth. ﴿ I'll take care of the rest.