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Summary
“Sit.” Alhaitham demands, just a head between his thighs now, and Kaveh feels his gut twist in a delightfully weightless way that might embarrass him forever.
“I am sitting.” Kaveh retorts with his usual Alhaitham-aimed petty defiance, his voice light and airy and sounding so much more relaxed than he felt. Alhaitham’s hands slip from his back and around his hips, clutching at the tops of his thighs instead as if he might pull him down himself.
“On my face.”
or, Alhaitham has a tongue piercing and Kaveh doesn't know how to cope.