Who: Kevin Entwhistle and Viktor Krum Where: A back-alley circus ring in Knockturn Alley, then Kevin's flat When: BACKDATED; 10th October, night What: Read the 'where' and you'll get a fair idea Rating: Rish? And L for Long Status: Part 2 of 2 (complete), Part 1 here
He moved his hand to the edge of Kevin's jumper, sneaking it up just a little so that he could rest it against the other man's skin. He felt a little twinge of guilt as he realized what he was doing and lightly tugged the fabric back into place.
"Does any one go to moon? Or is this only a thing for important people, like government official?" he asked, trying to divert his thoughts away from a path that would move things faster than he intended. "These things in Bulgaria, ordinary people do not do. But there are privilege for those who are highly connected." His parents, for one. But their privileges had come in part from him and he wondered how long he had before a parent or mentor showed up to force him back to the pitch in some fashion.
Kevin liked the touch, and he mourned it when it died too soon.
He smelled Viktor's shirt again where it stretched across his arm, and tried not to think about how much he wanted to smell his skin directly - the crook of his neck, the swoop of his armpit, the sensitive skin behind his knee.
"Not everyone can go - they call those that do Astronauts. They go through a lot of physical and emotional training. They're like - soldiers, almost. They're expected to be at the peak of physical and mental strength because space is so hostile."
"Sound like Bulgarian sports program," he laughed although there was a hint of anxiety behind the comment. He shifted, then asked, "Did you want to do this ever? Or always be writer?"
"I've always wanted to write - or create things," Kevin said, noting the slight tension in Viktor's voice and wishing to soothe it.
"Ever since I knew how to, I've made up and written down stories. Not all good," he said with a soft laugh. "But it brings me pleasure."
"What other things bring pleasure?" Viktor teased, unable to help himself.
Kevin grinned widely at that. He could have answered rather bluntly, but he wanted to play around it for a moment, and give Viktor more.
"Black coffee," he said, propping his head up in his hand with his elbow against the sofa. He traced his fingers down Viktor's neck, slipping one beneath the collar of his shirt. "Ginger biscuits. Watching people. Reading. Walking around, especially when it's bright and sunny but not too hot. Kissing."
Viktor stored those comments away in his mind though he laughed when Kevin said the last. He answered it with a deliberately light graze of his lips on Kevin's.
Then he pushed himself up a bit, groaning slightly at the ache in his legs.
"That was not what I meant. I have many questions for you. I think maybe this is no good for first date," he said bluntly. "But I do not date many people. Just fuck."
"Oh," Kevin said, smothering a giggle at the bluntness, his cheeks pink with it. "Well - I know how I talk, and write, but I don't have a lot of experience either." No matter what people read. "No more so than average."
"But you know you can and should ask me anything," he said, laying back on his back to look up at Viktor.
"I have a lot of experience with fucking," Viktor said, treating it as if was nothing. "This is not hard when you are in paper. You know this--you write about it some time." His concern about the difference between men and women was rapidly diminishing with every kiss they exchanged. He believed that was something they could work out on their own.
"But I do not know so much about your customs of courting. I am raised by traditional people and I do not think this is the same here." He pinked, knowing that his family was old-fashioned even by Bulgarian standards, in part because of their pureblood values.
"Also there are things you should know before we..." He hesitated, not wanting to use the words that he had for sex. Skipping over that, he said, "After accident, I change." He turned red at the admission, edging away from Kevin a little so that he could sit up.
Kevin sat up a little too, on his elbows, then sitting up straighter so that they wouldn't lose so much closeness.
He had suspected that would be the case, and it didn't scare him. "You're still you, inside," he pointed out, tracing the fingers over the back of Viktor's hand. "And you're who I wish to be with, whatever way works for us." Fuck everyone else, fuck expectations. "And I'm very attracted to you," he added with a blush. "Not just physically but your mind. Your mannerisms. Your voice. Your kindness. Your fierceness."
"Do you want to talk to me about it?"
"Yes." He watched Kevin's hand touching his. "I want to have you know this thing." He frowned to himself, pushing his right leg out a little to ease the ache that was nagging it.
"This happen in Sofia. Doctors say, things may be different with, you know, fucking for a while. It may not work so good or it may work too good, blah blah blah, things like that. But I do not want to hear this so I do not listen." Viktor paused and gave Kevin a sheepish smile. "This is bad habit of mine. Do not say I did not tell you this."
He continued.
"So girl, she comes to me on street. Dark hair, big eyes, her body like this--" He made a curvy silhouette with his hands. "And she do what some times happen. She is interested in fucking Quidditch star and I think, why not. I will prove the doctors to be wrong. We go to hotel--" Realizing that Kevin surely didn't want all the details, he glossed over them. "Take off clothes--" He waved his hand in a circle, expressing that he was skipping said details. "And she wants the lights on. So I can see you, she say. I do not want this, not for thing that mean no thing, but I do it because this is what she wants. And she..." He hesitated, staring at the floor.
"She sees how I am made now. The legs. The scars. Every thing. And she look so... disgust. This is all I see for her. And my cock, it just shrivel up. Small. No thing is going to happen." He winced, making a small span with his thumb and forefinger. "But. She want to do it any way. She turn off light. She say she will make it work. And she try. She do... stuff. Then she hit and bite and yell and no thing work. Because all I can think of is look on her face. That I am not man any more."
"I tell her, you go. She say, she hate me, that she tell the paper I am not man, all sort of thing. So I give her money not to do this." He smiled but there was pain in it. "Only time I pay for fucking."
Viktor scratched the back of his head. "This is what I want you to know. That may be it better you not look at me. That if some thing is wrong, it may not be that you are man. It... It is me. I did not fuck since that night. I do not want to hear things she said in someone else's mouth."
Kevin's expression was tight by the time Viktor was done talking, despite his promise to himself to stay neutral and open. He was fucking angry, and it showed.
"Well," he said. "She sounds like a dickhead."
To put it very, very mildly.
He let out a sigh, exasperated and hurt - but not for himself. He pressed the balls of his palms to his eyes and rubbed them, trying to think of something to say - maybe not something soothing, but something that proved that none of what Viktor said made him want him, or this, any less.
"I think you're fucking beautiful," he said finally when he lifted his head and turned to look at the other man. His words were sharp. "And I don't care about your legs or scars or if we need to take time or no time at all, it's not - it doesn't matter to me. That woman extorted you. She used you."
"We use each other," Viktor said. "I just did not get best of that." He glanced up at Kevin, still feeling a little ashamed by the memory but relieved that the other man had not left. "I do not tell you for pity. I tell you so you know."
He reached out and squeezed Kevin's hand. "It may be if that do not happen, I am not sitting here."
Kevin reached up with his free hand and pressed his fingers against Viktor's cheek, pulling his face in closer and keeping his own head slightly bowed so that their foreheads touched.
"Thank you for telling me," he huffed softly. He knew it hadn't been easy.
"Now that this is out of way, ludimiy," he rubbed Kevin's nose lightly with his own. "Maybe we eat. Or go to bed. You tell me which it is. Or I can go if you do not want these things."
"Let's eat, then go to bed," Kevin said, though he was loathe to move from this spot and lose contact.
He kissed Viktor, softly, and dropped his hand from his cheek onto his shoulder.
"What do you like to eat?" he asked him curiously, excited to learn new things about him. "Usually we just share a bottle," he said with a grin.
"I am not best cook. Good at breakfast but not much else," he said. "I like usual things--borscht, this I can make, banetsa, toast with lyutenitsa--" Viktor realized that he was speaking a different language, this one with food, and stopped with a laugh.
"You mean English food. Ah... Bangers, chips...there is that squeak food you have. Meat." He smiled and took Kevin's hand with a little squeeze. "And you? What do you eat?"
Hearing Viktor say 'bangers' instead of sausages was probably the sweetest and most hilarious thing Kevin had heard him say - to date - and he grinned a bit, rubbing an idle hand over the older man's abdomen.
"I like most things except seafood," he admitted. "I don't like fish and shellfood - well, I'm allergic to that."
"And even though I'm Scottish, I don't eat haggis and potatoes every day, despite what's said about us. I can cook, though. The muggle way," he said, finally extracting himself from Viktor to stand and stretch, his jumper riding up a little before he tugged it back down and walked over to the kitchen that lined the back wall of the living room.
He peered into his fridge. "Do you like eggs?"
As Kevin stood, Viktor realized how easy it would be to become used to the other man's presence. He wondered at that--whether he was risking a great deal by letting himself become involved.
"Eggs are good," he called out, slowly standing up himself. "I am not choosing." He caught himself and amended, "Choosy."
Wandering over to the kitchen so that he could see it, he asked, "What is haggis? I like potatoes."
"Eggs and potatoes... okay," Kevin said thoughtfully, pulling out a carton of eggs from the fridge, and some sausages, a pepper, an onion and hot sauce. He bent down to the pantry cupboard and pulled out some potatoes too, and grabbed what he needed from the cutlery drawer, leaving things half open - it was clear he wasn't exactly a tidy cook.
"Haggis is offal - you know, the organs of a sheep?" he explained as he started chopping. "All ground up with herbs and suet, and it's cooked in a casing like sausage..."
He glanced up and grinned. "It's delicious," he admitted.
Offal. Viktor stored the word away in his memory. He hadn't heard it before but at least he was familiar with the concept.
The smell of whatever Kevin was cooking was delicious and it drew him further in. He glanced at his kitchen, trying to resist the urge to pick up some of the spices that seemed less familiar.
"Haggis sound like dog I ate in America," he mused. "They put it in bread. It was not bad. Probably is much easier to raise dog for eating than cow."
Kevin chuckled. "You mean a hot dog?" he asked him, tossing some sausagemeat into the pan. "Vitya - these aren't made from real dogs. It's usually chicken or pork. The bad bits of both," he said with a grin, looking up at the other man and shaking his head fondly.
"I think real dog meat is probably very disgusting. And chewy. And too cute."
"Bah. I am very sure it was dog. If you had seen street we eat on, you would see this is so." He shrugged. "Chicken is cute. Baby pig is cute. They still taste good."
Kevin grinned, and left the potatoes to cook in the pan with the rest of the meat and vegetables while he turned to lean against the counter and look up at Viktor.
"I've never been to America," he admitted. "Did you like it?"
"It was...very loud," he said, frowning. "We were there because Karkaroff, he think he can get us deal. Sign players overseas and there will be more money." Viktor added, "I did not see so much of the country. It was all back rooms and talking."
He smiled at Kevin, then said, "I am used to small place. Big city is still strange to me. But you are journalist--is this your kind of place?"
He wondered whether Kevin moved often or if London offered him enough to do.
"I like it here," Kevin said, turning back to the stove and cracking a couple of eggs into the pan to let them cook last. "It can get a little loud and overwhelming at times, but it's a sprawling city. There are quieter areas."
He smiled, and thought of Edinburgh. "I grew up in a smaller city. Full of magic and history," he said, pulling a couple of plates down. "But I know this city better now."
"Yes. I am learning to like this city as well." His stomach grumbled as the scent of eggs wafted into his nose. "It has small places like home."
Leaning against the counter, Viktor asked, "Do you only report for here? Or do you go to other places?"
"I go around the UK. I'm not at a level yet where I can do anything more but - I'm working on it," Kevin said, feeling shy. He was still young but - he wanted to be good.
"Here," he said, handing Viktor a plate of hash and a fork, before he made one up for himself. "We can eat on the couch or at the table, whatever you want."
"I like table," he said, braces clattering as he made his way to it. He set the plate down and asked as he sat, "Tell me about a place they send you. And why."
Then Viktor grinned. "Quidditch stories do not count."
"Sometimes they send me, sometimes I get a hunch or a lead and I take myself there," Kevin admitted, taking a seat across from Viktor so they could look at each other. He extended his legs beneath the table, just to be a little closer.
"I've been to all sorts," he added, pushing some food around with his fork. "Quidditch games, yes," he said, grinning. "Hogwarts. The Ministry. Remote villages on the coast. Backstage at concerts... the worst," he admitted. "S&M clubs. Ordinary bars. I'm usually looking for someone to watch. Then I might be asking questions. It depends on what I'm investigating."
"What do you like the best?" Viktor asked, eating quickly. It was a bad habit learned in his school days where dominating younger children had been encouraged by Durmstrang faculty. He thought nothing of it now.
Kevin wouldn’t say it now, but he kind of liked the way Viktor ate - it wasn’t only a compliment that he seemed to like his cooking, but it was endearing in and of itself.
He was a little slower about it, himself.
“I used to like scandals,” he admitted, glancing back at his fridge and, feeling lazy, charming it open so he could accio the water filter and some glasses to the table. “But I enjoyed the work I did on the Dementor story.”
"Use to like?" Viktor stopped, curious about what had changed. "Is this because of story in Witch Weekly?"
The answer to that was one he wanted to know. It continued to worry him, if only because he knew that he was opening Kevin up to the same scandal all over again. Selfishly, he didn't think he cared about that as much as he should.
“Maybe,” Kevin admitted, twirling his fork a little.
“I guess I don’t really like the idea of hurting anyone. Not like that.”
Viktor hesitated. "So what will happen when the paper write about us? Unless we keep to ourselves."
“I don’t care,” Kevin said truthfully. “They can write about me all they want. I just don’t want to be like that anymore.”
He bit his lip. “Unless - does it worry you?” he asked the older man, almost scared of the answer. He set his fork down against his half empty plate. “Are you worried about what they’ll say of you?”
"They can not say worse than they have. But--" Viktor paused. "It will cause problem. I can not lie about this. And I do not know if this is thing you want." He glanced down at his plate, suddenly no longer hungry. "It is early to be asking this question. I am rushing it."
“But we’ve known each other for a while,” Kevin pointed out. Sure, this was new ground that they were treading on together, but that was the point - they were doing it together.
“I’ve got thick skin, Vitya.”
"Yes. But this is new. I do not want it spoiled by other people," he confessed. "My family--they will not take it well." He sighed. "They would not take any one well who they think is keeping me from doing what they want."
He scratched the back of his neck, then picked up a fork. "We will wait. Worry about this if it happen. I am maybe not important now." Viktor began to eat so that he could avoid the subject. He knew very well the impact his father could have on his relationships and he imagined that, in this matter, all of the Krumlovs might find a reason to become involved.
Kevin watched Viktor for what felt like a long moment, when in fact it was merely a handful of seconds.
“You’re important to me,” he said softly.
Viktor smiled, a little flushed. "That is not what I meant." He set down the fork again, leaning back in his chair and watching Kevin in turn. He was still surprised that the younger man had expressed such interest and the cynical part of him kept poking at his mind, asking him how long it would last.
But the part of him who was fascinated by Kevin in turn was still winning. He'd decided the moment that he had asked the other man out that he would treat their relationship as seriously as he would have had they been at home. If his heart got broken, at least he could not be accused of not having one at all.
That gaze was making the skin on the back of Kevin’s neck and the tops of his cheeks heat, and he smiled a little, breaking it shyly and glancing down at the table and the rest of his dinner that he wasn’t hungry for.
“I wanted to say it all the same,” he said as he looked back up again. “I want you to know it.”
"I know it," he said. He gripped the back of the chair, wishing as he clomped over to Kevin that he could make his movements as smooth as they once had been.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips gently against the tip of Kevin's ear and whispered, "This I know also. You have not shown me rest of house." His tongue flicked out just for a second to tease Kevin's earlobe before he straightened up, smiling wide.
Kevin blushed, and pushed his plate aside. He’d deal with the clean up later.
“It’s not very big,” he said with a shy grin, getting up and immediately standing close to the other man, one hand on his waist to stop himself from another swoon in the wake of that little brush of warm, wet skin against his own. “I mean, this is most of it,” he said, gesturing the living room and kitchen, before he nodded the way toward the only doors that wasn’t the front door. “Bathroom,” he said, swinging it open and then shutting it again when he noticed how untidy his toiletries looked. It was clean - everything in his home was - but there was always a slight state of chaos where he left things and half put them where they belonged. He once found a book in his fridge.
“And bedroom,” he added slightly breathlessly as he leaned back against the door for a second before turned it and stepping back to let Viktor see inside, thanking his earlier self that remembered to make the bed. The room was small - it really was only big enough for his bed and a chest of drawers that sat beneath the window, and his closet was build in against the far wall. His bedside table was small but packed with books and a pair of glasses sat atop.
"I like small," Viktor replied, tugging Kevin toward the bed. "Is different from my flat. Very solemn." He wondered whether Kevin would sleep the same way here that he had at Viktor's, curled into a tight little ball.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. At first, he debated about letting Kevin take charge, then shrugged and began pulling his own boots off.
Kevin was very tempted to sit on Viktor’s lap, like he would have done if this were someone else, but he restrained himself and sat down beside him instead, feeling nervous.
“You think my flat is solemn?” he asked him with a grin, pulling his own shoes off and tossing them across the room. He shifted up onto the bed a little, but he had no expectations either about where this was headed - more kissing, just touching, sex or sleep. He was just happy to have Viktor so close to him.
"This is maybe not right word." Viktor's socks came off next with agonizing slowness. He began working at the fastenings on his leg braces, glancing up at Kevin. "The colors, they are... Not so wild. Peaceful."
“Well, that’s a little better,” Kevin said, still grinning. He sat back on his elbows, letting Viktor take his time and wanting him to feel comfortable here.
“I don’t spend a lot of time in this room. Just sleeping and reading right before sleeping,” he admitted, scooting up a little further toward the pillows and lifting his hips to unbutton his dark jeans.
Viktor watched him, openly interested as Kevin's hand went to the button of his jeans. The braces slid off but he made no move yet to take his trousers off, knowing how long the process would be.
Instead, he leaned over and took off his shirt, wadding it up and tossing it into a corner. While his back still possessed a long scar near his spine, Viktor knew it was not nearly as distracting as the rest of him would be.
So he flexed his arms, pressing his palms against the bed so he could fall back on them and watch Kevin.
Kevin paused momentarily, his gaze falling on Viktor’s arms and the distracting movement of muscle under skin. He blushed as he thought about being caught handfuls of times looking at that particular part of Viktor’s body, and, not wanting the other man to feel objectified, he tore his gaze away and instead looked up into his face. Also distracting; sharp lines and soulful eyes, gentle masculinity. It made Kevin’s fingers tremble a little as he realised that this was probably the first time Viktor had seen another man undress outside of the locker room.
Kevin had never been shy about his own body - he wasn’t built, not like any sports player. He was slim with lean muscle and smooth, mostly hairless skin, dotted with dark moles and freckles that were visible when partners got closer. But now, his hands hovered over the half-open front of his jeans, before he decided to take a different approach and lift his t-shirt up over his head, throwing it in the same direction that his shoes went.
Viktor smiled a little as he saw Kevin pointedly look away from his arms, storing the information away for later use. His eyes swept across the younger man's body and he thought to himself that perhaps taking it slow was overrated.
He had no idea, however, how to look seductive when undressing legs that did not work. His brow wrinkled with the problem.
Viktor pulled himself back slightly, relying on the strength of his arms to move the dead weight of his legs backward. When he was next to Kevin, he smiled, trying to ignore the fact that he was a little sweaty, not only from that effort but also from simply looking at the man in front of him. He reached out, drawing Kevin into a kiss as his hands traced their way down his chest, determined to know every mole and freckle on it.
"I like these." He murmured, finding a freckle on Kevin's ear and kissing it gently, then one on his neck. "If I follow them down, I wonder where I will go." His tongue teased another freckle, this one on his collarbone. He felt a little uneasy about being with another man but it was laced with a curious anticipation only heightened by his growing arousal. He let his fingers drift down to the top of Kevin's jeans, playing with the button as he continued to kiss one freckle at a time.
Kevin held his breath, as nervous as he was the first time he ever had sex; he didn't want Viktor to do this and discover that he hated it. That it wasn't for him, after all. The realisation that it was a very real possibility almost made it hard to focus, but lucky the warmth of the other man's mouth was distracting enough in its own way.
Gingerly, at first, he touched Viktor's bicep, his fingers wrapped over it in a light squeeze before he moved his hand up to cup his shoulder. He liked the slight slickness of his skin, and something similar was happening to his own body as nerves fizzled under muscle and flesh.
He blinked up at the ceiling when Viktor's hand found the front of his jeans, and in one swift movement, he threw his leg over the other man's lap and climbed on top of him, finding his face and cupping it in his hand in a tilt upward as he pressed his mouth fervently against Viktor's in a kiss.
The weight of Kevin on his lap suddenly made Viktor's jeans feel about five sizes too small and he groaned a little as he kissed the other man back. He wasn't being careful now about where his hands fell, yearning simply to touch.
"Do we have to go slow?" he asked, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "I am changing my mind, lubimiy." One of his hands moved, fumbling inside the front of Kevin's jeans with clumsy desire.
Kevin moaned when Viktor pushed his hand into his jeans, and he kept his own hands anchored on the older man's shoulders, like he was afraid to fall off of a very high height. And maybe he was.
"No," he said, soft and murmured as he pressed their foreheads together and shook his head, his hair falling into Viktor's face. "We don't have to go - anything. We just - I don't know. I just want..." Everything. Anything. And he wanted to know what that word was.
"Lubimiy," he replied urgently. He pressed himself down against Viktor, hands finally relenting and sliding down his broad chest. "What is lubimiy?"
With a pointed grin, Viktor said, "Help me take trousers off and maybe I tell you. Lubimiy." The last word was all throat, his longing and desire echoing in a few simple syllables.
Kevin laughed a little breathlessly at that, and nodded. "Okay, okay, hold on," he said, his turn to look pointed as he removed Viktor's hand from his own jeans so he could slide down a little against him and work open his belt and button.
"Underwear on or... off?" he asked him shyly as he started pulling them down, not sure if Viktor wanted to go the fully naked just yet. Still, it didn't stop him from bending his head and kissing his hip.
Kevin's mouth on his hip sent a shiver through his body so strong that he could not speak at first. Viktor first answered in Bulgarian, then amended in English, "They will come off later, no?" He tugged at his underwear, laughing a little as he helped with the undressing.
The sight of his own puckered, gnarled skin sobered him. He felt his erection ebb suddenly as his muscles tensed and the anxiety hit. Afraid that Kevin wouldn't want him if he looked too closely, he pulled the younger man up, trying not to look in his face in case he saw disgust there. His fingers played with Kevin's hair, trembling slightly.
Kevin could tell that Viktor was nervous, but he knew it wasn't because of the act of undressing or what they were doing. He knew the older man was afraid to let him see his body.
He glanced back at the patchwork, scarred skin of his thigh and even though Viktor was pulling his face toward him, he resisted for a second while he ghosted his fingers across skin that looked like pink marble. "Does it hurt?" he asked him curiously when he looked back up at him, his palm now flat over the top of Viktor's leg, his eyes wide and open with nothing but curiosity in them. "Can you feel me touching you there?"
"No. Not much." Viktor didn't look at him. "If not for braces being magic, I would not walk much. One leg is better than other. Left."
Kevin shifted his weight to the other side, and touched Viktor's left leg just above the knee, tracing his thumb over the curve of it. His other hand reached up and held the other man's cheek again as he bent forward to kiss him.
"Please do not touch them. Okay?" It was hard for Viktor to say but he managed to choke the words out. "Is hard for me."
Kevin quickly lifted his hand away and held it palm up, as if he was being held at gunpoint. Or wandpoint.
"I'm sorry," he breathed, blushing hard.
"Is not you," Viktor told him. He reached out, tugging on the waistband of Kevin's jeans. "Please. I did not mean stop every thing."
And to prove it, he pushed himself up with one arm, using the other to coax Kevin still closer. He could feel the excitement returning as he stroked the younger man once more, wondering whether he would need to give explicit instructions.
"You didn't -..." Kevin said, before he was cut off by a soft, huffing moan when Viktor suddenly took charge again, and he felt like he was turning to jelly in his arms. It was the most rudimentary of positions and levels of touch, but the fact that it was Viktor made it feel amazing, both in his body and in his heart.
He tilted his head down again and kissed him, gently pinching his chin between his fingers as he twisted his body more fully to face him, now sitting on his lap and pushing himself down to feel him.
"You are still dressed," Viktor said, biting back a moan as Kevin wiggled against him. "Fix that." He kissed the other man, this time permitting himself a slight whimper before gasping out a few more words in his native language.
He was not sure yet how they were going to manage but he desperately wanted to pleasure Kevin, to hear him moan and call out with joy. His own body was racked with sensations that he did not question--simply reveling in each new feeling as Kevin moved against him.
“Okay - okay,” Kevin said between kisses he pressed against Viktor’s mouth to calm his nerves. After all, once his clothes were off, there was no mistaking that he had a man’s body - an aroused man’s body.
He slid back off of Viktor’s lap and landed on his back on the bed, and pushed his tight jeans down, peeling them from his legs and leaving his underwear on. For now.
When he looked back up at Viktor, his expression was sheepish, shy and flushed.
"You did not finish. Come. You see all of me, now I see all of you." Viktor gestured to himself, smiling. His own arousal had returned, now that the question of his legs had been resolved, and he was having a hard time remaining patient when he was so curious about what would happen next.
He leaned forward a bit and playfully tugged at Kevin's underwear.
Kevin couldn’t believe he was this nervous. It was so unlike him. Still, glancing over at Viktor gave him the confidence he needed to finish what he started; his underwear was thrown across the room with the rest of his clothes, and before he could give himself a chance to feel even more vulnerable, he crawled right back on top of Viktor’s lap and kissed him.
Viktor kissed him back, surprised that Kevin seemed so nervous about what was happening. Gently, he ran his fingers through the younger man's hair and abandoned his forcefulness to ask, "This is still what you want, yes?"
“Yes,” Kevin whispered, almost feverish. His own hands cupped Viktor’s neck, then his shoulders, squeezing his upper arms. He pushed his hips down, a pointed gesture.
“Is this... is this what you want?” he asked the other man, dropping his head and kissing Viktor’s throat before he looked up into his eyes.
"I want you," he said, though he wasn't quite certain what to do next. He reached out, sliding a hand around Kevin's back and drawing him closer in for another kiss. "Do I... turn?" They'd never discussed the finer points of this and now he felt a bit lost, despite the want inside of him.
Kevin wasn't really sure how to explain it to Viktor too without sounding clinical or, worse, scaring him. And the fact of the matter was, he was in no rush to get to any sort of end goal, not yet. They had time, and he wanted to take it.
So he pushed a hand down between them, grasping Viktor in his fist. "We can just touch each other like this," he whispered, bumping his nose against Viktor's cheek and smelling the warmth of his skin. "For now. It doesn't have to be complicated."
"I am worried if you keep touching me that we will not make it to the end," Viktor confessed. His skin was flushing with the admission and he shifted a little underneath Kevin to make his point clear. "It has been long time." But it was more than that--it was simply being with someone who he was fascinated by, who intrigued his senses and who seemed to accept that he himself was not just a face or a set of muscular arms.
He reached out, again touching Kevin's dark hair with wonder. It felt dream-like that they had reached this point.
Kevin huffed a soft laugh, and carefully tightened his grip around Viktor, giving him one slow stroke downwards, then back up again. He leaned into the fingers pushed through his hair, before rubbing his nose against the older man's cheek again.
"What's the end?" he pointed out. "I want you to come."
Viktor didn't know whether to whimper or scowl. A half-moan came out as he felt the pressure and he fought the urge to do exactly what he'd warned Kevin that he might.
"You first," he replied, using his strength to lift Kevin gently, positioning him so that Viktor could move his mouth against the other man's cock. He rested his lips against the head for a moment, a little anxious, then slowly moved his tongue across the head, exploring a little as he slid his hands against Kevin's buttocks. He kissed and licked gently, trying to glance up to see if Kevin was reacting.
In this position - straddling Viktor’s legs, now sitting up fully on his own knees - Kevin flailed a tiny bit with his arms, not really sure where to put them. At first, he touched the wall where he could just reach it with the tips of his fingers, then he crossed his hands behind his head, before he decided he wanted to touch Viktor’s short, soft hair. So one hand ended up on top of the other man’s hand, but not pushing, and the other stayed on the back of his own neck.
“Merlin - I... fuck,” he mumbled incoherently, blinking down at the other man, as if he was looking at him from afar. An out of body experience. “That’s good,” he encouraged, feeling like Viktor needed that - and would want it. He moaned, and gently scratched the older man’s scalp.
The feel of Kevin's hand in his hair was more encouraging than any words the other man could have spoken. Viktor continued to suck and lick, his mouth placing gentle pressure on Kevin's cock.
His own erection almost unbearable, he found one of his hands drifting down, between his legs.
Kevin knew he wasn’t going to last long. It wasn’t inexperience, or even that it had been a long time - it was just being here, in this unbelievable situation. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams and he hoped that Viktor would help him put himself back together again.
That part of this was more important to him, above all else.
“Viktor,” he gasped, leaning forward and pressing his free hand against the wall behind the other man. “I’m going to -... I’m really close,” he warned him.
Viktor hesitated. "Do you want to stop?"
He himself was struggling, had been struggling from the sheer exhilaration of finding himself in Kevin's bed. Part of him didn't want to stop but he also wondered what else would happen if he did.
“No,” Kevin admitted in a soft huff, dropping his head against his arm. He looked down at Viktor, and scratched at his scalp again.
“Don’t stop.”
"Then I will not." And he continued, letting himself relax as he felt Kevin's hips buck against his face.
Kevin kept his head resting on his arm and his hand now pressed flat against the wall, and he let out a whoosh of a breath when his insides tightened then turned to jelly. His fingers momentarily slowed on top of Viktor’s head, then grabbed a little bit of hair as he felt himself climax inside of his mouth with a soft cry. In the fuzzy aftermath of it, when his body felt like it could slip off and peel itself from his conscious, a dull sort of panic set in - what if Viktor hated tasting him? What if he pulled back in disgust?
“I’m sorry,” he gasped.
Viktor sputtered a little, surprised despite the fact that he'd been warned. He continued stroking himself until he came, groaning as his orgasm rose and fell. He collapsed backward into the pillow, a last soft sigh escaping his lips.
"No sorry," he said, rubbing the corner of his mouth. He couldn't say he liked the taste but he'd liked feeling Kevin's soft skin against his mouth. Viktor smiled lazily and closed his eyes as the afterglow washed over him, feeling too happy to speak much more.
Kevin was still flushed from embarrassment that Viktor hadn’t pulled away, but at the same time, he felt deeply moved that he didn’t. He rubbed his face against his arm, just kneeling there for a second as he flagged and exhaustion crept into his bones.
With a tiny groan, and climbed off of the other man, and collapsed onto the bed beside him, pressing his face into the pillow for a second while he let his mind reel from what just happened. When he lifted his face again, his smile was shy.
Viktor propped himself up on his arms to look at Kevin. He still felt a little weak, his head spinning just slightly at the thought of everything that had happened.
"Is that..." He stumbled over the word. "O-kay?"
A nod, and Kevin carefully shifted onto his back, one weak arm flopped across his stomach, the other across his head.
"Yes," he said, reaching up to rub the back of his finger over Viktor's cheek. "It was - more than okay." He bit his lip, dying to know but unsure how to ask without just coming out with it. So he did. "How was it for you?"
"Good." Viktor said, closing his eyes and leaning back. He found that he meant it though he wondered how it would be if things progressed further. Or if they were going to. His hope was that he might himself learn better how to do the things that Kevin liked...whatever those were. He smiled, feeling relaxed and more than a little sleepy.
He was tempted to ask Kevin questions about what the other man might have expected but he decided that it was better not to know. At least not yet. Cracking his eye open, he found Kevin's hand and reached out for it, wrapping his fingers in the other man's.
Kevin stretched his arm out to give Viktor more access, more of himself, while he grabbed the edge of the comforter with the other to haphazardly toss over them. He knew they were about to fall asleep any second, and he hated waking up in the middle of the night, freezing. It was one of the worst feelings in the world.
"Good," he repeated softly, scooting in closer, his breath a whisper on Viktor's bare shoulder.
Viktor wrapped an arm around Kevin, pulling him closer and yawning. He didn't want to lose this feeling, the sensation of being warm and cared for. It was something he rarely felt--much less after sex--and he wanted it to linger as long as he could. He kissed Kevin's ear, pausing before he asked, "Can I stay?"
His stomach lurched a little as he asked it, thinking that he knew the answer but not being entirely sure.
Kevin looked up at Viktor, his head now resting against his shoulder.
“Of course you can stay,” he said softly, but not with a laugh. “I want you to stay.” With those words, he put a hand on the older man’s warm chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this warm in bed.
"I am glad," he said though the words weren't enough to express what he felt. Viktor smiled, his body relaxing still further as he added sleepily. "I do not sleep with people. I hope I do not snore."
Kevin grinned.
“Vitya, you should stop endearing yourself to me. It’s getting ridiculous,” he teased, shifting around until he found a comfortable sleeping position - curled up into a ball by the older man’s side.
"What do you mean by this endearing?" He said, his voice groggy as he yawned again. Viktor burrowed his nose into Kevin's hair, a slight glow warming his face at the use of a nickname he never heard in this country. "All I say is the truth, ludimiy."
His eyes drooped and he found himself rapidly succumbing to warmth and slumber.