[ Another hum escapes him, feeling the bridge of Emet-Selch's nose pressed to the crook of his neck. Hard not to think of the way he used to flinch; jaw clenching, muscles tensing as though to withstand a blow, stilling under even the lightest touch. Now, he is languid, freely, purposefully seeking out the warmest stretches of skin as though they are sunlit meadows, as though Viktor, himself, is comfort.
More than anything, he wants to be comfort. Wants to be safety for Emet-Selch, the way Emet-Selch is for him. He runs his hand up and down the length of Emet-Selch's thigh, letting his fingers glide along the dips in muscle. ]
'Tis the way of wearing masks, aye? It will take time. But we- we will each find what is beneath.
[ Viktor chases him when he turns his head, pressing lips to the dip of his cheek, and then snorting softly, a laugh breathed against Emet-Selch's skin that he is unable to help. ]
Oh, I promise, I am more than halfway there.
[ A grin, another snicker, he slides forward, leaving Emet-Selch's embrace. Viktor takes a quick drink from the bottle as he gathers up his ears in one hand, pressing them flat against his head. The bottle is set aside again before he slips down into the water. This bath, much like Emet-Selch's bed, is ridiculous - only the ocean would be easier to submerge himself in - and as he lingers for a few seconds, surrounded by warmth, he wonders if maybe, some day, they might have themselves something similar and time aplenty for soaking together.
It would be nice.
He surfaces, blinks water from his eyes, and cards his fingers through the wet tangle of his curls. His soaked ears, weighed down by water, don't quite spring back up into place. He retrieves the bottle again as he slots himself back into place between Emet-Selch's legs, eager to be touched again, to be tended to like something precious. ]
no subject
More than anything, he wants to be comfort. Wants to be safety for Emet-Selch, the way Emet-Selch is for him. He runs his hand up and down the length of Emet-Selch's thigh, letting his fingers glide along the dips in muscle. ]
'Tis the way of wearing masks, aye? It will take time. But we- we will each find what is beneath.
[ Viktor chases him when he turns his head, pressing lips to the dip of his cheek, and then snorting softly, a laugh breathed against Emet-Selch's skin that he is unable to help. ]
Oh, I promise, I am more than halfway there.
[ A grin, another snicker, he slides forward, leaving Emet-Selch's embrace. Viktor takes a quick drink from the bottle as he gathers up his ears in one hand, pressing them flat against his head. The bottle is set aside again before he slips down into the water. This bath, much like Emet-Selch's bed, is ridiculous - only the ocean would be easier to submerge himself in - and as he lingers for a few seconds, surrounded by warmth, he wonders if maybe, some day, they might have themselves something similar and time aplenty for soaking together.
It would be nice.
He surfaces, blinks water from his eyes, and cards his fingers through the wet tangle of his curls. His soaked ears, weighed down by water, don't quite spring back up into place. He retrieves the bottle again as he slots himself back into place between Emet-Selch's legs, eager to be touched again, to be tended to like something precious. ]