Valentin & Sorin: When the Clock Strikes Twelve
Valentin was - for the second time that night - speechless when Sorin removed his mask. It felt intimate, almost tender. He looked in Sorin's eyes and, once again, it struck him how beautiful Sorin was. He had thick eyebrows and a long neck and broad eyes and a strange, strong nose: all of it added together made for a human boy that was almost too handsome for words.
It was funny, Valentin thought, how you sometimes could forget that beautiful people were beautiful when you spend too much time with them. But with Sorin, that was easy, because Sorin took you in with his personality, not with the way he looked.
Valentin could tell what was happening, but he did not think to stop it.
And then he stopped thinking at all.
The clock struck twelve. It was one of those kisses. Sorin tasted of the ginger drink, but also of Sorin and tongue and boy. Valentin closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, both questioning and bold. He felt his fangs extend, but he was not afraid. He would not hurt Sorin, not with so many people around them.
The kiss lasted and Valentin only stopped when he realized there were people whistling at them. When he broke the kiss, he whispered: "Wow."