Yuri isn't even sure which of those words even makes sense, which to stress the question of more, but he doesn't have long to think about it, because the next second Victor pulls back and suddenly is kissing him, in that same rapid fire suddenness. His cheek and his mouth and his other cheek, and Yuri's face is scrunching up, unable to not, the warmth trying hard to bubble straight up his throat. Almost a laugh, trying to escape especially when Victor just lands another of these fast, giddy kisses on his ear, like somehow he can't just stop at both of his cheeks, and his mouth.
Before he pulls back, again, but not far, hands on Yuri's cheeks, face, again, instead of his shoulders, and Victor does. He looks so happy. It's undeniably happy. His face, so close to Yuri's face. His eyes, are so bright and shining in a way Yuri almost wants to reach out and touch, brush his fingers along, like he could it. Just for a second. This (impossibly impossible, but shining) thing in Victor's eyes staring at him.
Victor who wants thinks he's bad at this and to get this right, who looks like he would in any other day, on any other trip, not be able to hold still, when he makes this face, needs to see and touch and try everything. Who is looking at Yuri while saying that. Before Yuri is blushing a little, shoulders raising, but not pulling away, not stopping touching Victor, when he says next time and he tries not to let it tumble, strange, surprised or baffled in his stomach too hard.
Victor is already at next time? That there's going to be a next time, before they even get to Moscow and that rink? He doesn't want to think long on it yet.
He finds himself nodding, finds himself pulled along by the light in Victor's eyes, and the giddy swoop of the kisses, saying, "Okay."
Then, maybe as shy as it wants to be certain. "Me, too. I'll try to be ... better."
He could try. If this was what Victor wanted. (What he wanted, and Victor, and they.)
Yuri lets go, then, but not for anything more than switching his tea cup from one hand to the other, and to glance in that direction (where, oh, good, the tray is still flat, if not entirely soundly balanced in its entirtey). He leans toward it, not loosing himself from Victor's hands, and letting his far hand counterbalance against Victor's other side, to just puts his cup down finally. Before turning back to Victor, free hand floating for a second, almost reaching up to curl at his bicep, before ending up gently, almost like the butterfly of a question, lightly at the other side of Victor's waist.
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Date: 2017-04-20 04:56 pm (UTC)Yuri isn't even sure which of those words even makes sense, which to stress the question of more, but he doesn't have long to think about it, because the next second Victor pulls back and suddenly is kissing him, in that same rapid fire suddenness. His cheek and his mouth and his other cheek, and Yuri's face is scrunching up, unable to not, the warmth trying hard to bubble straight up his throat. Almost a laugh, trying to escape especially when Victor just lands another of these fast, giddy kisses on his ear, like somehow he can't just stop at both of his cheeks, and his mouth.
Before he pulls back, again, but not far, hands on Yuri's cheeks, face, again, instead of his shoulders, and Victor does. He looks so happy. It's undeniably happy. His face, so close to Yuri's face. His eyes, are so bright and shining in a way Yuri almost wants to reach out and touch, brush his fingers along, like he could it. Just for a second. This (impossibly impossible, but shining) thing in Victor's eyes staring at him.
Victor who wants thinks he's bad at this and to get this right, who looks like he would in any other day, on any other trip, not be able to hold still, when he makes this face, needs to see and touch and try everything. Who is looking at Yuri while saying that. Before Yuri is blushing a little, shoulders raising, but not pulling away, not stopping touching Victor, when he says next time and he tries not to let it tumble, strange, surprised or baffled in his stomach too hard.
Victor is already at next time? That there's going to be a next time,
before they even get to Moscow and that rink? He doesn't want to think long on it yet.
He finds himself nodding, finds himself pulled along by the light in Victor's eyes, and the giddy swoop of the kisses, saying, "Okay."
Then, maybe as shy as it wants to be certain. "Me, too. I'll try to be ... better."
He could try. If this was what Victor wanted.
(What he wanted, and Victor, and they.)
Yuri lets go, then, but not for anything more than switching his tea cup from one hand to the other, and to glance in that direction (where, oh, good, the tray is still flat, if not entirely soundly balanced in its entirtey). He leans toward it, not loosing himself from Victor's hands, and letting his far hand counterbalance against Victor's other side, to just puts his cup down finally. Before turning back to Victor, free hand floating for a second, almost reaching up to curl at his bicep, before ending up gently, almost like the butterfly of a question, lightly at the other side of Victor's waist.