Goading. Almost sing-song with the kind of calling on Yuri's evasion that makes it far too delightful, and that was not something he intended to admit. Neither of those. Even if he had, too. It made more sense if this was a dream. That might be far too embarrassing and shaming, too, but he'd basically said that a handful of times.
He wants to sigh, but instead, there's a sudden flailing squeak of surprise (that he's not even certain is entirely truly anymore, not even just tonight, but based on all these months, dragged everywhere by these hands), as he gets pushed back onto the bed by Victor. Both shoulders hitting the bed, the ice pack going tumbling off his hip, maybe even the bed, he doesn't know, and Victor suddenly leaning over him, hand demanding he raises his eyes to meet Victor's there.
Impossibly gorgeous all over again. His heart defeatedly shouting who wouldn't dream of that, too. Blue eyes sharp stars, cold and burning all at once, while his bangs hang slightly away from his pale cheek. The way Yuri's eyes can't help crossing all of it. Those cheekbones and cheeks. His nose. The line of his jaw, that comes down to his chin, and back up to his lips.
He can't get lower, can't look away, hide, (from Victor's face, the ache exploding) with those fingers warm under his chin.
This close to this, over and over and over, again. With the things Victor said and the nearness of him, and it blurts out of his mouth, between those spots of fire in his cheeks and tension expanding in his chest, more desperate than he wants to hear reach his own ears, "I didn't mean to."
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Date: 2017-05-08 03:19 pm (UTC)Goading. Almost sing-song with the kind of calling on Yuri's evasion that makes it far too delightful, and that was not something he intended to admit. Neither of those. Even if he had, too. It made more sense if this was a dream. That might be far too embarrassing and shaming, too, but he'd basically said that a handful of times.
He wants to sigh, but instead, there's a sudden flailing squeak of surprise (that he's not even certain is entirely truly anymore, not even just tonight, but based on all these months, dragged everywhere by these hands), as he gets pushed back onto the bed by Victor. Both shoulders hitting the bed, the ice pack going tumbling off his hip, maybe even the bed, he doesn't know, and Victor suddenly leaning over him, hand demanding he raises his eyes to meet Victor's there.
Impossibly gorgeous all over again. His heart defeatedly shouting who wouldn't dream of that, too. Blue eyes sharp stars, cold and burning all at once, while his bangs hang slightly away from his pale cheek. The way Yuri's eyes can't help crossing all of it. Those cheekbones and cheeks. His nose. The line of his jaw, that comes down to his chin, and back up to his lips.
He can't get lower, can't look away, hide,
(from Victor's face, the ache exploding)
with those fingers warm under his chin.
This close to this, over and over and over, again. With the things Victor said and the nearness of him, and it blurts out of his mouth, between those spots of fire in his cheeks and tension expanding in his chest, more desperate than he wants to hear reach his own ears, "I didn't mean to."