Victor makes a sound like a whimper, a faint whine against Yuri's lips that sinks into his chest like sharp light, but he doesn't stop. Victor doesn't stop. The next second there are arms pushing around him, hands pushing at the so much softer, much thinner, worn fabric of his sleep shirt, that rises, drags, pushes across his skin with Victor's hands. Making him aware, with a jolt in his stomach, of something about it being so much less stationary, solidly on him, staying, even when Victor's hands are anything but insubstantial through it.
Pushing into his skin, while Victor leans into his body, and Yuri only realizes when a small groan escapes his mouth that it's half Victor and half a surprising stab of pain at his hip, radiating out, because he'd curled around Victor like it wasn't even a thought. Arm tightening, ankles having crossed, and then shins, tightening around Victor without even thinking about it, pressuring all the muscles and his thighs and hips in another new way apparently when he'd tightened them all inward.
Not to mention the sudden burst of realization he's basically wrapped himself around Victor, to get closer or to hold on to Victor trying to do that, or both. All of it. When he doesn't want to care about it hurting, pushes at it, with all the no focus he even has on it, he's done so much more than this after a full day of only falling over and over and over again, if never this, and he's flushing against any want or want not to at the recklessness of himself in even ending up like this.
Of the way, he still doesn't want to let go, even in the shock of it. Or the realization on top of it. When he kisses Victor, again, like maybe he could hide it there, on Victor's mouth, in Victor, and like it's not just asking for more of this madness.
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Pushing into his skin, while Victor leans into his body, and Yuri only realizes when a small groan escapes his mouth that it's half Victor and half a surprising stab of pain at his hip, radiating out, because he'd curled around Victor like it wasn't even a thought. Arm tightening, ankles having crossed, and then shins, tightening around Victor without even thinking about it, pressuring all the muscles and his thighs and hips in another new way apparently when he'd tightened them all inward.
Not to mention the sudden burst of realization he's basically wrapped himself around Victor, to get closer or to hold on to Victor trying to do that, or both. All of it. When he doesn't want to care about it hurting, pushes at it, with all the no focus he even has on it, he's done so much more than this after a full day of only falling over and over and over again, if never this, and he's flushing against any want or want not to at the recklessness of himself in even ending up like this.
Of the way, he still doesn't want to let go, even in the shock of it. Or the realization on top of it. When he kisses Victor, again, like maybe he could hide it there, on Victor's mouth, in Victor, and like it's not just asking for more of this madness.