He can't miss it. Not this close. He can watch Victor, who was looking at his face, watch his face tip and his eye drop further than Yuri's face and he feels it.
A wave that starts at just about his shoulders and rolls down with those eyes. As hot as it is chilled, a flash of fever bright fire leaving a train of sudden goosebumps right as it passes, to his chest and his stomach, and so much lower, settling, sticking, throbbing there, even if Victor, laying half on him never gets there, and Yuri doesn't know if it's desperate, disastrous, dangerous thrill, the want of too many pushed away dreams, or banging fear, with starting to stumble awareness, that this is realrealreal, unlike any of those, that answers that.
Maybe both.
And maybe it's going to happen now, here, for real. Anyway. Yuri's heart thundering even louder in his ears, in his teeth, and his lips, and every joint and inch of skin on his body, when Victor leans down, past his face and kisses his neck again. Yuri's finger pressing in some combination of everything, body pushing slightly up reflexively.
But that kiss happens only lightly. This brush of lips nothing like the maddening pull of lips claiming inches of his skin, like Victor had wanted to taste it, take it off of his body entirely. Only lightly, while everything else rushes, catches, wants, and falls in a confused stumble at that sudden lightness, and his unaccountable, undeniable hunger for more than that. Stamped clear as the sun even when he can watch it happen, think after it, weight settling right back.
The breath of muddled thought before Victor is leaning back again. Saying that.
Yuri lets go of one arm finally, finding the bed with it, the faint awkwardness of one arm under him now that he can feel it, and the muscles around it, can't miss any of it. His expression dubious as his inability to really source any words at all, but especially that aren't to the contrary and don't sound like a confused complaint or a waking concern.
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A wave that starts at just about his shoulders and rolls down with those eyes. As hot as it is chilled, a flash of fever bright fire leaving a train of sudden goosebumps right as it passes, to his chest and his stomach, and so much lower, settling, sticking, throbbing there, even if Victor, laying half on him never gets there, and Yuri doesn't know if it's desperate, disastrous, dangerous thrill, the want of too many pushed away dreams, or banging fear, with starting to stumble awareness, that this is realrealreal, unlike any of those, that answers that.
Maybe both.
And maybe it's going to happen now, here, for real. Anyway. Yuri's heart thundering even louder in his ears, in his teeth, and his lips, and every joint and inch of skin on his body, when Victor leans down, past his face and kisses his neck again. Yuri's finger pressing in some combination of everything, body pushing slightly up reflexively.
But that kiss happens only lightly. This brush of lips nothing like the maddening pull of lips claiming inches of his skin, like Victor had wanted to taste it, take it off of his body entirely. Only lightly, while everything else rushes, catches, wants, and falls in a confused stumble at that sudden lightness, and his unaccountable, undeniable hunger for more than that. Stamped clear as the sun even when he can watch it happen, think after it, weight settling right back.
The breath of muddled thought before Victor is leaning back again. Saying that.
Yuri lets go of one arm finally, finding the bed with it, the faint awkwardness of one arm under him now that he can feel it, and the muscles around it, can't miss any of it. His expression dubious as his inability to really source any words at all, but especially that aren't to the contrary and don't sound like a confused complaint or a waking concern.