Chapter Text
The clock rings twelve noon.
Alhaitham's office hours only began thirty minutes prior, but it felt like a full day's work had already past.
He had, of course, been stopped multiple times on the way to his secluded library, being bothered and pestered about rejected applications or pointless meanderings about nothing Alhaitham was concerned with.
He had sunk down into the Grand Sage’s ridiculous chair, huffing hair out of his face with a cross of his arms. “My usual tea, please,” he asked his assistant.
“Right away, sir. By the way, a package was sent to you. Advise caution, as it was delivered anonymously.”
Alhaitham looks to his left and sees, indeed, an unmarked brown box, “How amusing…thank you.” He decides without much thought to open it—inside is a note, along with two bottles of a disgustingly lilac purple liquid.
“Finally finished that serum you asked for. I do hope I was discreet enough. Please be sure to record the symptoms and outcomes, all the pros and cons. I’d love to give this to Tighnari and Cyno, too.
May this prove useful.”
-Calx.
The Sage’s face burns, a deep pink dusted over his cheeks. It was a serum meant to aid in… boosting his libido, he remembers the alchemist phrasing it that way. He had met the blonde, Albedo, on a business trip to Avidya Forest. He was apparently well acquainted with Collei, Tighnari, and Cyno—and Alhaitham wasn’t dumb; Albedo got along a little too well with the General and Forest Ranger. No matter. It wasn’t his place to pry.
The scribe couldn’t even place how they had gotten on the topic; something about Cyno’s blunt statement of, “We had a threesome with him. Quite an enjoyable experience.”, followed by Tighnari nearly slapping his boyfriend across the face. That had sparked the somewhat awkward conversation about their sex lives; he blamed the Mondstadt alcohol Albedo had brought.
“Haitham here isn’t much for relationships. Far too off putting,” Cyno said over his glass, “Too stiff.”
Albedo had tilted his head, “Oh, but you’re plenty attractive, Mister Alhaitham. Surely it’s not out of your realm of possibilities?”
If someone asked, no, the Scribe did not blush, only tightened his arms across his chest, “I have no trouble finding partners. It simply isn’t a priority.”
“All confident now, are we? I say it’s ‘cause he has Kaveh,” Tighnari grins, clearly tipsy, “That pretty architect. His roommate…” he then pauses, puts up air quotes, “ Roommate.”
Alhaitham rolls his eyes, “What difference does it make if I bed him every so often?”
Cyno coughs, bewildered, “Wait, you actually have had sex with him?”
“Plenty of times. He’s alright, I suppose. Just never lasts too long.”
Albedo watches their conversation with amusement as the Ranger squints, “Or maybe you don’t last long? Tell me, tell me, is he good?”
Alhaitham doesn’t respond, only takes out a book, “I do believe that’s none of your business.”
“Is he vanilla? I bet he is! I bet he insists on being missionary and lasts a total of five minutes,” Tighnari snorts, “That silly airhead blonde, I love him, but he seems—”
The Scribe turns up the volume on his headphones, taking a deep breath as he tries to stay collected and calm, with thoughts of Kaveh’s tear stained blissed out face making their way across his mind. Kaveh’s voice, deep, raspy with want, whispering sweet praises. Kaveh’s cock stuck down his throat as the blonde works, his hands carding through Alhaitham's hair. It truth—Tighnari was right in that it was Alhaitham that never lasted long. He can never seem to stay turned on long enough to go more than one round, and while Kaveh insisted repeatedly it wasn’t a problem; Alhaitham was nothing if not secretly greedy.
“Perhaps I could create you something to add a little extra push, Alhaitham,” Albedo’s voice is what registers in that small silence between songs.
Alhaitham pauses his music, “Color me curious. Would it be classified as beneficial research?”
“Sure. I could use it with my… trysts as well. Give me a week after I return home, and I can certainly create a serum of some sort to send your way to…aid in your libido , I suppose. In due time, of course.”
Again, he blames the Dandelion Wine, and not the burning desire pooling in his gut, not the burning need to lay with Kaveh until neither of them could speak coherently, “Sounds wonderful.”
So, here Alhaitham sits at work, staring at the vials of what looks to be wolfhook juice to those unsuspecting. Footsteps snap him out of his trance, “Your tea, sir. No traps or attempts at killing you in that box, I presume?”
He clears his throat, nods, “Precisely. Thank you for the tea, off with you now. I will call you if needed.”
His assistant nods and leaves down the elevator.
Alhaitham attempts to ignore the serums, opting to scribble down approval for various Kshahrewar projects; he had become so giving with the Darshan lately that Kaveh thought Alhaitham had been replaced by a clone.
He sips his tea and hums at the warmth, then it dawns on him…
Why not put the serum in his drink?
Alhaitham thinks. Really tries to map out every scenario, everything that could go right and wrong.
He thinks about important students and highly esteemed professors walking into his office while Alhaitham's cock sits soaking wet in his pants just beneath the hardwood of his desk. How he would have to stay calm and collected while his nipples stood prominent against his thin shirt, just one small squeeze away from leaking.
The Acting Grand Sage, closing his office for an hour so he can cum on his fingers and promptly soak any important papers with his juices. The Akademiya’s highly accomplished and respected Scribe, barely able to walk home due to the aching between his thighs.
But truly what pushes him to pour the lilac liquid into his mug is the image of Kaveh’s reaction—how Kaveh would ruin Alhaitham in the way the Scribe has always been far too shy to ask for.
He brings the porcelain cup up to his lips and checks the time. His first meeting of the day was in an hour.
The effects creep in slowly throughout the conversation with the Liyue scholar; Alhaitham didn’t catch her name, but she seems earnest in her want to study if Liyue flowers could survive in Sumeru’s various climate conditions. It starts as a fever unseen, the heat settling itself in his stomach. It goes down to his cock and he feels the slickness coating his boxers; he has to nearly physically restrain himself from grinding down in his seat.
“So…I-I hope that was, um, sufficient!”
Alhaitham feels fuzzy, but he nods, “I’ll be sending you to the Forest Rangers tomorrow evening. I’m sure that Tighnari of the Avidya Forest will be very eager to help you.”
The girl smiles, says something which he can only assume is profuse thanks, and she leaves with a bow.
He waits until he hears the elevator stop at the bottom before he begins to mindlessly rut against the chair, throwing his hand over his mouth to suppress the groan that escapes. His whole body feels like its on fire, and he tugs down his pants to his mid thigh in a desperate attempt to cool off; his boxers are soaked, every single brush against the fabric sending electric shocks up his spine.
“Dear Archons,” he mumbles, resisting the urge to reach up and play with his equally aching nipples. They look like Kaveh has been sucking on them for hours; it’s certainly noticeable.
He lets out shaky breaths and glances at the clock. He has thirty minutes before his next meeting; so he has to be practical and smart. He’s guessing it won’t take long for him to orgasm, however, the point of the serum was to keep him wet until he can’t handle it, not for him to cum once then be done with it. If anything, he’ll be more flustered, more out of breath if he makes himself cum before he has to talk to someone else for Gods knows how long.
But, it aches. The need has buried itself so deep in Alhaitham's chest that it nearly makes his heart burn. It’s a fervent want for anything to be on his cock, for his fingers or Kaveh’s cock to be buried deep inside him.
He lifts up the hem of his boxers and hisses at the cold air. His clit is bright red and the slick connects to the fabric, making it a sinful sight that would have Kaveh drooling.
Two minutes have already passed.
Without another thought, he snakes a hand down his body, taking a deep breath as his fingers make contact with his cock. It’s euphoric—he moans contently into his hand, eyes fluttering shut. He presses down and rubs his cock in circles, nearly in tears at the feeling of something finally touching him. He pants and grinds into his fingers, riding his hand. The sounds are quiet, but they fall back onto Alhaitham's ears; it’s a soft, wet, thing. It almost sounds like Kaveh’s tongue, licking and devouring in his greed.
His orgasm hits fast, hard; it racks through his body as his hips lift up off the chair, his hole squeezing around nothing as he lays slack jaw against his chair.
It takes another two minutes of heavy panting, his wetness dripping from his fingers, “A-archons…”
In his haze, he glances at the clock, then his notepad with his schedule.
Ten more meetings.
-
Before the tenth person arrives, which was not for another hour, Alhaitham is firmly straddling the corner of his desk and humping it as fast, as desperately as he could.
His ruined boxers and pants lay discarded around his ankles, coated in his juices and cum. He lays across the wood, face buried into his coat to mask his desperate moans, “Ka-ah-ahhh…”
He needs something inside him, or he might end up regretting his actions. With a weak whimper, he falls back into his chair and hoists his legs up on either end, now spread wide and welcoming for anyone to see. At this point, he doesn’t care if the Fatui came waltzing in—Alhaitham wants to be fucked, by something, anything, as soon as possible.
With a wave of his fingers, a phallic shaped green vine creeps up from his discarded coat where his vision lays, “Make it quick,” he whispers to himself. He knows this will be loud. He knows he’s about to cum so hard he might black out. But he commands the vine anyway.
Its thickness is similar to Kaveh’s cock, the just perfect amount of girth to make him feel full as it fucks into him fast and deep. Alhaitham is moaning so loud it can certainly be heard through the cape he screams into. His cock is still standing, aching, his hole being pounded into with no mercy. His eyes roll back into his head, taking in all the delicious sounds his pussy makes—how obscene it is, the shlick shlick that feels louder than anything in the dead silent library.
Then, he begins to feel a tingly spark in his gut. It grows every time the vine hits as far as it can go, bulging out Alhaitham's tummy in the slightest every time it does, “H-Hmm…s’good…so good…” He laughs under his whimpers, all that shame knocking on the door.
He chases the feeling, commanding the vine to move faster and as he touches his cock, a stream of clear liquid shoots out from his pussy, soaking the papers in front of him. Alhaitham has to nearly grip his own face to keep the whorish moan that leaves his mouth from making its way down to the House of Daena; he keeps rapidly rubbing his cock, and the liquid keeps squirting out. As his orgasm rams into him, a strong stream puddles on his desk.
He melts into the chair, completely boneless. His cock drips, the vine still nestled deep inside of him, making its home there. He feels a coolness on his chest and he looks down to see milk leaking from his hard nipples, causing wet spots to form on his shirt.
Alhaitham hears the elevator.
In his eighth post orgasm haze of the afternoon, his reaction time has severely suffered. His brain is telling him to stay in such a compromising position, to let the next person come here and fuck him senseless. And to make him do whatever he just did again.
He hears a voice, a beautiful voice all too familiar, “I see a simple serum has turned the renowned Acting Grand Sage, the Akademiya’s pride and joy, the Dendro Archon’s favored savior…into a common whore. What a true sight of beauty to behold, dear Haitham.”