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There's a thing Jamil can't obtain. Of course, there's no doubt in his mind that he'll be able to in a few years, but it's impossible for now. That thing is within arm’s reach– no, it’s even closer than that. It’s inside his arms. They’ve already melted as one. To go even further, it’s already and thoroughly his, though unofficially. The only thing missing is a proof, one etched into skin with blood.
It’s not yet possible to affix such a seal on his belonging so he settles for less. (For now.)
* * *
“Jamil, I want to get up.”
He doesn’t answer. A lesser person would find an excuse – the bed is too comfortable to leave, Kalim just got over his heat and should rest… – but not Jamil. He’s just doing what he said he’d do after the winter holidays – not holding back on what he wants. Which involves not listening to Kalim at the moment.
“Jamil.”
Ignoring Kalim who’s gently tapping his shoulder, Jamil buries his face in the crook of Kalim’s neck and inhales deeply. The faint scent of post-heat pheromones fills his nose – citrus, jasmine, and lily – a smell most soothing, especially after a long day at school. There’s only one thing he wants to do when he’s so close to this scent.
“Hey, are you listening to me? Jaaaaaaami– ouch!”
Kalim flinches as Jamil sinks his teeth into him, right into the junction between his neck and his right shoulder. The skin breaks easily under Jamil’s sharp fangs, and he observes the blood pearling on the wound when he pulls back a little. It’s not the real deal, but it’s close enough.
Above him, Kalim tries pushing him away, but there’s no strength in his body, spent after a week of heat. Jamil wraps his arms and legs around Kalim, holding him in place as he moves his mouth to another part of his body – his left upper arm. Though he tries wriggling out of Jamil’s grasp, it’s ultimately meaningless, and he seems to realize it because he gives up with a sigh.
“And you say I’m the insensitive idiot…” He grumbles before adding, “What’s wrong with you today?”
There’s nothing wrong with Jamil. To put it simply, he’s just tired. From helping out with Kalim’s heat the first few days to worrying over him staying at the dorm as he went back to class, he hasn’t taken a break in a while. But now, with Kalim’s sweet scent filling his brain to the brim, he’s left unable to think of anything but leaving his mark on Kalim.
It’s a single-minded wish, but even through the pheromone-induced haze, he doesn’t try biting Kalim’s nape. It’s useless after all – his collar is firmly stuck in place and only Kalim has the key. It’s useless. Useless. It’s… useless…
Despite knowing this, leaving countless shallow and deep bite marks on Kalim’s upper body isn’t enough to satisfy his desires. Jamil is irresistibly attracted to where Kalim’s scent is the strongest. Kalim squirms when Jamil rubs the tip of his nose behind his ears. Jamil’s teeth knock against the cold golden metal of Kalim’s collar. Once upon a time, Kalim had invited him to test it, taste the sweat gathered under it, and the feelings from that day stir deep inside his heart.
The sweetest torture. So close to Kalim’s body while so far from Jamil’s heart. That’s different now – back then, he was fighting against everything but now, he can succumb to his basest desires and Kalim will gladly accept him.
He’s so engrossed in licking and nibbling that pesky collar that he doesn’t notice one of Kalim’s arms breaking free from his hold, reaching for his Magical Pen.
“Oasis Maker!”
* * *
“Have you calmed down?”
“I was already calm.”
“Liar,” Kalim says, punctuating the word by sticking out his tongue.
Jamil may have become a little more honest, it doesn’t mean he will just come out and admit he let the alpha part of his brain pilot his brain. He’s better than some dumbass who let their animal brain control them and blame their alpha tendencies when things don’t go their way.
To avoid Kalim’s questions, Jamil dumps a bucket of hot water on his master’s head. What idiot uses his Unique Magic inside? The both of them are soaking wet – hence why they’re now warming up in Kalim’s personal bathroom – and the room is flooded. Who will clean up that mess? That’s right, Jamil. As always. (Kalim has at least the decency to apologize a few times before and during the bath.)
Though looking at Kalim’s torso and arms, perhaps it’s well deserved. He’ll have to take care of the wounds before bed – there should be enough ointment in Kalim’s medicine box to cover them all, but he’ll swing by his room for more just to be sure. With one hand, he traces the first bite mark he remembers leaving. It’s neither the shallowest nor the deepest one, but it’s the closest to Kalim’s nape.
With a sigh, Kalim leans against Jamil, his bare shoulder knocking against Jamil’s. “Why do you like biting me so much? Is that an alpha thing?”
“Who knows.”
“That’s not an answer!”
“That’s the only answer you’ll get.”
“Tch.”
After this, Kalim forces his mouth open, pressing the soft pad of his thumb against Jamil’s upper fangs despite his servant warning him to stop and manages a few observations – “They’re the same as mine, but I don’t get the urge to bite you, y’know?” and “Ow, I cut myself!” – before Jamil forces him to sit down and enjoy their bath.
Jamil’s eyes don’t linger on the collar encasing Kalim’s neck. Not yet. He can’t obtain it just yet, but soon, once he’s proven himself, once he’s accomplished enough, he’ll claim it for himself. Sharing his belongings isn’t his style, far from it, but he has to bid his time until the Al-Asims’ Kalim becomes his and his alone.
Until then… He’ll settle for less.