Yuri shivers at the hand that finds his skin, but sits up, pushing his spine straight in surprise at the bare touch, which only presses him into Victor's face. Victor being behind him and in front of him. Fingers on his skin, that make his whole lower back feel suddenly aware of itself. Fussy, strained muscles, that feel like they've already forgotten the hot water from the shower, forgotten his shirt, forgotten there was anything they were made for, but suddenly laying there under the flat of Victor's hand.
Holds. Holds still a moment longer still. But Victor doesn't move. His skin tingling everywhere under and around that hand. Victor just holds on, hand against his bare skin, mumbling something Yuri can't hear clearly enough to tell if is or isn't words, into his shirt and Yuri has to press a breath of out of his filled chest and his still warmed cheeks. "I can't hear you, if you're talking."
Somehow, even surprising himself, is the way his voice sounds light. Amused, and soft.
Like it could just drift away, unheard and unanswered and that would be fine.
Maybe everything could just be fine, even without words, if he just didn't have to move, or stop running his fingers through Victor's hair, staring down at his hand doing it, and Victor curled around him. Every second of it still beating a ragged, running, blossoming whisper of real, real, real that was getting sticky warm everywhere in his chest.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
zaluzianskya and ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
skylark_photos
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 04:17 pm (UTC)Yuri shivers at the hand that finds his skin, but sits up, pushing his spine straight in surprise at the bare touch, which only presses him into Victor's face. Victor being behind him and in front of him. Fingers on his skin, that make his whole lower back feel suddenly aware of itself. Fussy, strained muscles, that feel like they've already forgotten the hot water from the shower, forgotten his shirt, forgotten there was anything they were made for, but suddenly laying there under the flat of Victor's hand.
Holds. Holds still a moment longer still. But Victor doesn't move. His skin tingling everywhere under and around that hand. Victor just holds on, hand against his bare skin, mumbling something Yuri can't hear clearly enough to tell if is or isn't words, into his shirt and Yuri has to press a breath of out of his filled chest and his still warmed cheeks. "I can't hear you, if you're talking."
Somehow, even surprising himself, is the way his voice sounds light. Amused, and soft.
Like it could just drift away, unheard and unanswered and that would be fine.
Maybe everything could just be fine, even without words, if he just didn't have to move, or stop running his fingers through Victor's hair, staring down at his hand doing it, and Victor curled around him. Every second of it still beating a ragged, running, blossoming whisper of real, real, real that was getting sticky warm everywhere in his chest.