Yuri might say something in response. It's certainly a possibility, but if he does, Victor misses it.
For a good reason, though. For a very good reason, that very good reason being that Yuri's fingertips are tracing along his jaw up towards his ear, and he'd forgotten how sensitive that skin is. Hasn't thought about it in years, only ever touches it himself when he's pushing his hair back over his ears or rubbing at his jaw while deep in thought.
Not like this. Yuri's finger almost too light to feel, moving almost unbearably slowly, so gentle it could just be an errant breeze, but it isn't. It's Yuri, touching him. On purpose. Yuri, tracing along the edge of his jaw like he might find the answers he's looking for at the end of this path he's taking, while Victor's heart squeezes and founders and stumbles all over itself in surprised, confused need.
Needing more. Needing Yuri never to stop. Needing to stay absolutely still so Yuri won't snatch his hand away, but needing to push into it, too, to ask for his fingers to keep going, keep melting Victor away drop by drop down the back of his own skull.
A tiny sound that would probably be embarrassingly needy if he heard it, or cared, escaping as Yuri's fingers slip around the curve of his ear and tuck a few strands of hair back, while Victor's arms tighten and he buries his face in Yuri's shirt and stomach, sighing huge and shaky.
There was something he'd been thinking, but he's lost it, which is probably just as well: he can't imagine caring about absolutely anything else in this moment.
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Date: 2017-04-29 01:06 pm (UTC)For a good reason, though. For a very good reason, that very good reason being that Yuri's fingertips are tracing along his jaw up towards his ear, and he'd forgotten how sensitive that skin is. Hasn't thought about it in years, only ever touches it himself when he's pushing his hair back over his ears or rubbing at his jaw while deep in thought.
Not like this. Yuri's finger almost too light to feel, moving almost unbearably slowly, so gentle it could just be an errant breeze, but it isn't. It's Yuri, touching him. On purpose. Yuri, tracing along the edge of his jaw like he might find the answers he's looking for at the end of this path he's taking, while Victor's heart squeezes and founders and stumbles all over itself in surprised, confused need.
Needing more. Needing Yuri never to stop. Needing to stay absolutely still so Yuri won't snatch his hand away, but needing to push into it, too, to ask for his fingers to keep going, keep melting Victor away drop by drop down the back of his own skull.
A tiny sound that would probably be embarrassingly needy if he heard it, or cared, escaping as Yuri's fingers slip around the curve of his ear and tuck a few strands of hair back, while Victor's arms tighten and he buries his face in Yuri's shirt and stomach, sighing huge and shaky.
There was something he'd been thinking, but he's lost it, which is probably just as well: he can't imagine caring about absolutely anything else in this moment.