If Victor agrees without any comment to the contrary, it's not entirely surprising. Yuri had only stated a fact anyone on the planet -- well, in Shanghai, at least, at this very moment -- could have gotten right. That Victor moves the next second, it very much is. Victor shifting downward under him, which seems inventive and downright confusing, because Yuri was mostly still dropped on top of him, by Victor, held there, by Victor, and Yuri had been about to offer, with that bemusement, that he could move.
Before Victor lifts his chin, and curls up, instead of just pulling him down, and kisses him.
A spangle of surprise tightening his shoulders, but warmth blowing up and popping ripples in the center of his chest.
Leaving him staring at Victor, flushed with something that is a little surprise (not even certain whether it should be, but still is) and something ... else. Flustered smile at Victor's words -- that doesn't, it can't make it go away. The rocks in his stomach, stubborn small balls cold sunk. But it makes it ... better. Both of them. Somehow. A little better. Which he doesn't know if is right, or wrong, or just the same inability to deny Victor for long that he's always had.
But it feels like more than that, too. Like the echo of something lost, that might not be. Like a second chance to try and do something. Victor's kiss lingering on his lips,
Caught in the pink high on his cheeks, and his somehow still shy, "Hi."
Like somewhere in the middle they could start over. Together.
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Date: 2017-05-18 01:25 am (UTC)Before Victor lifts his chin, and curls up, instead of just pulling him down, and kisses him.
A spangle of surprise tightening his shoulders, but warmth blowing up and popping ripples in the center of his chest.
Leaving him staring at Victor, flushed with something that is a little surprise (not even certain whether it should be, but still is) and something ... else. Flustered smile at Victor's words -- that doesn't, it can't make it go away. The rocks in his stomach, stubborn small balls cold sunk. But it makes it ... better. Both of them. Somehow. A little better. Which he doesn't know if is right, or wrong, or just the same inability to deny Victor for long that he's always had.
But it feels like more than that, too. Like the echo of something lost, that might not be.
Like a second chance to try and do something. Victor's kiss lingering on his lips,
Caught in the pink high on his cheeks, and his somehow still shy, "Hi."
Like somewhere in the middle they could start over. Together.