[ Our bed. Like a boy again, caught sneaking out when he should be in bed, Viktor tenses and stills, shoulders bunching. A mercy that he's hidden beneath blankets, the only sign he's been startled an innocuous shift of the lump on the bed as he forces himself to relax. It takes him a few seconds longer to work up the nerve to respond, listening to the sound of shifting cloth, another snap of fingers. ]
Would you find it tolerable? [ Viktor murmurs into the blankets settled over his face. It was Emet-Selch's bed first, after all. His quarters. His space, even if Viktor has become a persistent presence. Whatever they are, he is not so sure they have quite progressed to joint ownership of furniture -- something so wildly domestic as to be wholly alien, completely absurd. Thinking about it sends a wave of frission jolting up Viktor's back.
And then, a second later, the bed creaks from added weight. In seconds that tick by like stretched minutes, Emet-Selch settles, moves closer, and ilms the blankets down until Viktor's face is exposed to the cold. He opens his eyes, blinking at the new, low flickering light. Exactly what he'd asked for, not too bright, just enough to chase the dark away. Something like terror but not bubble up from low in Viktor's stomach. The feeling wraps around his lungs, squeezes, sets his heart to a galloping pace that surely, mortifyingly, Emet-Selch can feel beneath his palm.
Viktor swallows, shoring up the will to respond. ]
'Tis p-perfect.
[ He angles his head, trying to catch a glimpse at Emet-Selch lying behind him without moving too much, not wanting him to slip away. After a second, he slips a hand down to slide beneath the waistband of the linen trousers Emet-Selch had created for him. Viktor holds his breath, lifts his hips, and shoves the soft spun cloth down. Off his hips, past his thighs, until they're far enough down that he can wriggle the rest of the way out of them with a few kicks of his legs, leaving them hanging off the side of the bed.
Naked again, Viktor scoots back, closing the minute distance between them and pressing himself into the bend of Hades's body, hungry for his warmth, eager to be surrounded. He curls an arm around his pillow and shuts his eyes. ]
no subject
Would you find it tolerable? [ Viktor murmurs into the blankets settled over his face. It was Emet-Selch's bed first, after all. His quarters. His space, even if Viktor has become a persistent presence. Whatever they are, he is not so sure they have quite progressed to joint ownership of furniture -- something so wildly domestic as to be wholly alien, completely absurd. Thinking about it sends a wave of frission jolting up Viktor's back.
And then, a second later, the bed creaks from added weight. In seconds that tick by like stretched minutes, Emet-Selch settles, moves closer, and ilms the blankets down until Viktor's face is exposed to the cold. He opens his eyes, blinking at the new, low flickering light. Exactly what he'd asked for, not too bright, just enough to chase the dark away. Something like terror but not bubble up from low in Viktor's stomach. The feeling wraps around his lungs, squeezes, sets his heart to a galloping pace that surely, mortifyingly, Emet-Selch can feel beneath his palm.
Viktor swallows, shoring up the will to respond. ]
'Tis p-perfect.
[ He angles his head, trying to catch a glimpse at Emet-Selch lying behind him without moving too much, not wanting him to slip away. After a second, he slips a hand down to slide beneath the waistband of the linen trousers Emet-Selch had created for him. Viktor holds his breath, lifts his hips, and shoves the soft spun cloth down. Off his hips, past his thighs, until they're far enough down that he can wriggle the rest of the way out of them with a few kicks of his legs, leaving them hanging off the side of the bed.
Naked again, Viktor scoots back, closing the minute distance between them and pressing himself into the bend of Hades's body, hungry for his warmth, eager to be surrounded. He curls an arm around his pillow and shuts his eyes. ]
It is not too close, is it?