꧁⎝ 𓆩༺🍪༻𓆪 ⎠꧂ @aglaeris - Tumblr Blog

Sit Next To Me

Chapter 12: Lucky Cigarette

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

…Right?

Viktor x Fem!Reader - 18+

A.N. Oh boy, this is a big one. I don't want to fill the whole page with an authors note, so check the replies for my little speech. I will use this space to say a huge huge thank you to @seaweedbumblebee for beta/editing for me! I can't begin to say how helpful it has been and how grateful I am for their help. Oh also, this chapter is nsfw ;)

(CW: off screen transphobia)

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He always indulged you. That was something that you came to appreciate more than anything once you realized he was doing it. No matter what, Viktor would listen to you talk for as long as you wanted, about whatever you wanted. Even if it was cold, and even if what you wanted to talk about was bioluminescent algae.

“They only glow at night.” You had found a bench at the end of the pier and made yourselves at home. You sat as close to him as you could, practically in his lap and halfway inside his jacket as you told him everything you knew about the tiny organisms. “They have a circadian rhythm, which is insane. Like, it’s not glow-in-the-dark, it’s glow-at-night. Even if it were bright as day right now, they’d still be glowing.”

He brushed a strand of hair out of your face as you spoke, “It’s a defense mechanism, which is so interesting because they're so tiny and yet somehow figured out that flashing light keeps them safe. How does that even begin to develop? It’s just so fascinating!” You stopped, looking him in the face, “and you can tell me to stop talking at any point, by the way.”

“You just said it’s fascinating,” he said, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted just slightly.

“Yeah, fascinating to me,” you laughed softly, “not most other people.”

“Well, I find it fascinating,” he assured, hand moving up and down your spine. “I like looking at you and I like listening to you, and right now I get to do both and it’s wonderful.”

If you weren't able to feel your own face heat up, you’d certainly be able to tell by the look on Viktor’s. A cocky smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Stop that,” you laughed softly, turning to look away from him.

“Stop what?” he scoffed, craning his neck to chase you

“Looking at me like that,” you laughed, blushing as you half-heartedly pushed him away.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he insisted , reaching up and guiding you to look at him with a hand on your chin, “Keep talking to me about science. It’s incredibly attractive.”

“You are such a nerd,” you said, trying not to sound affected. Your voice betrayed the shiver that ran down your spine.

“That may be true,” he said, thumb moving over your cheekbone, “but so are you.”

“Your turn,” you told him, doing your best to stay focused. “You speak. I’ve run out of facts.”

“Impossible,” he laughed, dropping his hand. “You have so much inside your head, there must be something.”

He leaned in, looking at you expectantly, the light from the lamp posts reflecting in his eyes. Your voice came out light when you tried to speak, “I can’t seem to remember any of it right now.”

He hummed, “What do you want to hear about?”

You tipped your head back against his arm, breaking eye contact and letting yourself remember how to breathe. The sky above you was clear and dark, your breath ghosting upwards, “Tell me something about stars.”

You heard him huff a small laugh, but he gave you what you wanted — like he always did.

“When the outer layer of a star grows into a red supergiant,” he said after a moment of thought, leaning closer so that his face was competing with the stars for your attention, “the core begins to shrink. It becomes hotter and denser and a series of nuclear reactions occurs, temporarily halting the core's collapse. When the core condenses down to just iron, fusion halts—”

“Because iron’s nuclear structure doesn’t allow atoms to fuse into heavier elements,” you interrupted, eager to prove yourself.

“Exactly,” he nodded, smiling fondly. You felt like you’d melt through the boards of the pier. “The final phase of its gravitational collapse happens in less than a second,” he continued, tracing gently over your jawline with his fingers. “As the iron atoms are crushed together, the core temperature rises over one hundred billion degrees and the force of gravity is overcome by the repulsive force between the nuclei. The core recoils out from the heart of the star, and a shockwave heats materials in the star’s outer layers, fusing them to form new elements and radioactive isotopes.”

“A supernova,” you breathed, watching him.

He gave an affirmative hum, “It’s one of the most beautiful displays in our universe,” he spoke, leaning closer, enough for you to feel his mouth move when he spoke, “and it’s nothing compared to you.”

He kissed you slowly, hand on your jaw holding you where he wanted. You reached up, fingers gliding through his hair, the other fisted in the lapel of his coat, holding him close to you.

When he pulled away he didn’t go far, only inches, close enough for you to see a faint freckle in his iris. You smiled up at him, speaking quietly when you asked, “have you been a romantic your whole life?”

“Not at all,” he admitted in your same hushed tone, “not before you.”

You rested your palm against his cheek, “Do you want to go home?”

His eyes fell shut as he leaned into your touch, "Desperately."

-----

You waited as he opened the car door for you. He dipped down, leaving a polite kiss on your lips before closing the door and rounding the car. You took the time in between to check your phone, hoping for an email announcing your O-Chem grade. No school emails, only a couple notifications from the groupchat and a missed call from a number you didn’t recognize. You slipped your phone under your leg as Viktor got into the driver’s seat.

“Grades posted?” he asked, starting up the engine.

“No,” you sighed, “he’ll probably post them tomorrow. Do you think he’s making us suffer on purpose?”

“Most definitely," he said as he did that thing men do when they reverse out of a parking spot, body half turned around, arm on the back of your seat. There was no reason for the action to be as hot as it was, and yet, it always was. Every single time.

Once you were on the road home, you reached over for his hand. He let you pull it into your lap, the back of his hand resting against your thigh as you traced the lines in his palm. His fingers twitched then relaxed as you dragged your nails over his hand. You mapped the calluses and scars that littered his skin, hypothesizing what each could be from. You recognized a writer’s callus on the inside of his middle finger, and welding spark burns around his wrist. You brought his hand to your lips, placing a kiss against his fingertips before lacing your hand into his and letting it relax in your lap.

You sat like that for a while, content to be shotgun in an old Beamer with a beautiful boy, who was into you as much as you were into him. You sat like that until your phone buzzed under your leg. You frowned, picking it up and declining the call. You didn’t realize it was the same number from earlier until you had already rejected it.

“Weird,” you said to yourself, looking to see if they had left a message. Nothing.

“Hm?” Viktor raised an eyebrow, looking over.

“Nothing, just a weird number.” You shrugged, “they called earlier too, but no message.”

“Huh, weird,” he echoed.

Before you could say anything else, it rang a third time, that same number flashing on your phone screen. You answered this time, your name being shouted down the line before you could even say “Hello.”

“It’s me, it’s Lest.” Even through the static of bad connection you could hear the panic in her voice.

“Lest?” You sat up straighter in your seat, blood going cold as you turned the radio down. “What’s going on, what happened to your phone?”

“I forgot it. Listen, I’m-” a sob cut off her words, you could barely understand her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” You shook your head, looking over to Viktor in confusion. He slowed down to the speed limit, ready to pull over if you needed.

She cried, words wet and angry, “I fucking hate him. I-”

“Slow down.” You cut her off, taking a deep breath and trying to keep yourself calm, “Are you safe? Where did you go? You’re not still there, are you?”

“I don’t know where I am,” she sniffed, “I just walked out. God, I’m so fucking dumb. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You rubbed the space between your eyebrows, “No, honey, it’s okay. We’re on the way. Can you stay on the phone with me?”

“I only have a couple quarters left,” she told you.

“Okay, just stay on as long as you can.” You tried to think about how to find her, “Is there an address on the payphone?”

“I can’t tell,” she said, “it’s all written over.”

“Okay, can you see a street sign?” You tried.

“No, they’re too far away.”

“Fuck, okay, do you remember Salo’s address?” You were running out of options.

“It’s somewhere on Conwell Street,” she said, breath stuttering as she tried to calm down, “An apartment, I don’t remember the number though.”

“Good enough,” you sighed, “we’ll be there as soon as we can. Save your change in case something happens.”

“Okay,” her voice shook, small and quiet on the other end of the line, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured her.

She started to say something else, before being cut off by an automatic voice telling her to insert fifty cents to continue the call.

“Okay, fuck, we’ll be there as soon as we can,” you promised, “just stay there.”

Viktor was already shifting up before the line went dead.

“Fuck,” you said to yourself, hands balled in fists against your knees, “fuck.”

“Hey, take a breath, Lasko,” Viktor told you, reaching over and rubbing a hand over your shoulders. You swallowed hard, nodding as you stared at your hands. “What happened?” He asked, shifting to go faster down the road, “is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shaking your head, “something happened with Salo, but she doesn’t know where the fuck she is.”

You pulled up a map on your phone and found the street she was talking about. Luckily it wasn’t one that spanned the whole town… only half a fucking neighborhood.

“She left from Salo’s,” you told him, looking to see if a payphone was marked on the map. Of course it fucking wasn’t. You were shocked a payphone was even operational, “he lives on Conwell, so like, she can’t be far from there, right?”

“How far is that from here?”

“Not far,” you determined the best way to get there, “actually, just take a left at the next light, and then Conwell will be the next stop sign.”

“Which way should I go?” He asked, looking over to you.

“No idea, I guess either way and we’ll just loop around?” You grimaced, “I don’t know the most efficient way to track her down, but maybe just up and down every street off of Conwell? Like, she really couldn’t have gotten far.”

Your throat started to tighten up, tears threatening to spill over at the thought of your best friend cold and alone at some fucking payphone. Viktor reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing tightly. He didn’t say anything, just held your hand.

-----

When you made it to Conwell, Viktor slowed the car. The two of you scanned the sidewalks as he turned onto the first road in the neighborhood. The snow was picking up, making it hard to see past the edges of the road. Your knee bounced as you stared out the window, looking through the flurries for any sign of your friend.

Luckily, you had been right when you said she couldn’t have made it far. You spotted the payphone and Lest sitting on the curb underneath it, only three streets over.

“There,” you gasped, “she’s there, she’s there.”

You opened the door before the car even came to a stop, hopping out into the snow and running as fast as your shoes would let you toward her.

“Lest!” you yelled, your voice carried off in the wind.

She didn’t move until you dropped to your knees in front of her, snow immediately melting into your dress. She jumped when you grabbed her shoulders, head jerking up to look at you with wide eyes. Her face was red from crying, her lips blue from the cold. You shucked off your jacket, immediately putting it around her as she fell into your arms. She sobbed against your shoulder, shivering against you.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” you said, fighting the waver in your own voice, “It’s okay. God, it’s freezing Lest. Where’s your coat?”

“I left it,” she said through tears, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have gone. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine, Lest. It’s okay,” you pulled back, trying to look her over and hold back your own panic, “Did he hurt you? I thought he was gay? What happened?”

“He is,” she wailed, “he said that,” she hiccupped another sob, dropping her head onto your shoulder, “he said since I haven’t had surgery,” another sob dropped your heart to the bottom of your stomach, “that I-” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, holding her tight against you as she cried. You felt hot tears well in your own eyes.

“I'm so sorry, Lest.” You tried to keep your voice even, “Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit, okay. He’s a fucking asshole and he’s wrong, okay?”

She sniffled, chin shaking as she tried to catch her breath. You helped her stand, brushing snow off her shoulders before it could melt through her shirt. Viktor reached you by the time you got her to stand. He muttered your name, shrugging off his own coat and placing it over your shoulders.

“I’m okay,” you said to him, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, watching you carefully and placing a hand on your back. You walked Lest toward the car, careful not to let her slip on the snow-covered road. Viktor opened the back door, holding it as you helped her inside. You slipped Viktor’s coat off your shoulders and tucked it around Lest, covering as much of her as you could before stepping back and letting Viktor shut the door.

When he pulled away from the curb you glanced back at Lest, “Are you getting warm?”

She nodded weakly, eyes closed and jackets held up to her chin, “Thank you.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” you reached back, squeezing her knee.

“I’m sorry I ruined your date,” she said, her voice tired and weak.

“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything Lest,” you assured her, “we were on our way home anyway, it’s totally okay.”

“But you were supposed to go home together,” she sighed, pressing her forehead against the window, “not with me.”

“Actually, Lest, I have to be up early tomorrow for an interview,” he said, glancing in the rearview, “we weren't going home together anyway.”

A convincing lie.

“That’s lame,” Lest scoffed, “all this time and y’all weren’t gonna fuck?”

“Lest, oh my god.” you gasped, letting out an awkward laugh.

“What?” she asked, eyes still closed as she frowned, “romantic ass date and you were just gonna go home alone? That’s such a waste.”

Viktor laughed, shaking his head as you buried your face in your hands.

“What? I’m just being supportive,” she said, even without looking you could hear a faint smile in her voice. A good sign.

“I appreciate the support Lest,” Viktor said, “I don’t think she’d even consider me without it.”

“Good point,” you joked, smirking over at him. He reached out and took your hand, holding tight as he drove the two of you home.

-----

An hour later, Lest was tucked into her bed, asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. You ditched your boots and padded quietly out into the hall, your mismatched socks clashing with the navy of your dress.

You clicked the door shut behind you, leaning against it with a sigh. Viktor stood in front of you, watching as you stared at the old hallway carpet between the toes of your socks. As hard as you tried, you couldn’t stop the tears that began to roll down your cheeks, dripping from your chin to the floor.

“Oh, Milá,” he sighed, taking a hesitant step forward.

You closed the gap, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, your face buried against his chest. He held you as you cried, one hand on your back, the other smoothing over the back of your head.

“This is so fucked up,” You sobbed against him, holding on tighter.

“I know, but she’s safe now,” he told you, “she’s here and she’s safe.”

“It shouldn’t have happened at all,” you cried. “God, what the fuck. I’m so fucking scared something is gonna happen to her.”

He pulled back, looking down at your face with sad eyes and wiping tears off your cheeks, “Something happens to everyone, Milá. You can’t stop bad things from happening, but you can be there for her when they do happen.”

You sniffed, trying to even out your breathing, “but what if I can’t be there?”

“Well, that has not happened, has it?” he asked, “you were there for her tonight. That’s what matters.”

“This is not how I wanted tonight to end,” you laughed bitterly, voice rough and wet, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he shook his head, brushing hair behind your ear, “there is no rush.” He pulled you to him, placing a kiss against your hairline, “we have all the time in the world, Milá. I promise there is no rush.”

You pushed closer, head tucked under his chin as you slowed your breathing. “Thank you, fuck, I’m so glad you were here.”

“Always, darling,” he pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “I’m here, whatever you need. I can stay with you if you want me to.”

“I want you to, but I know Lest,” you sighed, “she’s gonna be embarrassed enough as it is, I think waking up with you there won’t help.”

“That’s okay,” he nodded, “but call me if you need me, yeah?”

“I will,” you said, yawning against his chest.

“Go to bed, Milá,” he said, gently stepping back.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Without a doubt,” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “get some sleep.”

You nodded, opening the door behind you, “Goodnight, Vik.”

“Goodnight, Milá,” he said, waiting where he was as you stepped into your room, “call me if you need anything.”

You nodded, reluctantly shutting the door between you.

---

You woke up before Lest. Only the barest hints of dawn slipped through the cracks in the blinds, turning the room gray and blue. You watched her from your bed. She was curled in on herself, knees pulled up and arm covering her face. Her hair was tangled over her pillow. It was like looking at someone poorly pretending to be her.

On the drive home last night you had thought about all the things you wanted to do about Salo. All things that would likely get you kicked out of school or arrested. But that’s all they were. Thoughts. This was Lest’s anger to have, not yours. You’d give her what she needed. If she asked you to hit Salo with your truck you would. If she asked you to not get involved, you could do that, too. Whatever she wanted, she just needed to ask.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling and doing your best to get in a few more hours of sleep. No luck, of course. Your mind kept flipping through scenes from last night. The memory of kissing Viktor in the car fought for purchase in your mind. You tried to shove the image of Lest sitting on the curb alone in the snow away. Viktor was right last night. What happened to her didn’t matter so much as the fact that she was safe now. There wasn’t anything you could do to change what had happened, but you couldn’t help the anger and guilt that weighed heavy in your chest. You stayed like that until you heard Lest shift in her bed.

“Are you awake?” she whispered into the gray room.

“Unfortunately.” You shifted on your side to look at her, “are you?”

“No, I’m dead asleep,” she responded, a tired smile on her lips.

You laughed softly, pulling your blanket tighter around yourself. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” she groaned, rubbing a hand across her face, “I can feel myself breaking out, though. I can’t believe you let me go to bed without washing my face.”

“There were more pressing things happening in the moment,” you scoffed, “I’ll pay for your facial to clear it up.”

“Thank you,” she sang, “I’m holding you to that.”

“I’ll book it today,” you told her, “It’ll be one of your Christmas gifts.”

“Can my other gift be all the spicy details of your date last night?” She smirked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“There are no spicy details,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at her.

“Yeah, that’s my fault, isn’t it?” she said slowly, “sorry again, by the way. I know you said it’s fine, but I totally derailed your night, don’t lie.”

“Lest, seriously, it’s not a big deal,” you assured her, “I had a good time, even without going home with him.”

“Ah, so you were planning to go home with him.” She grinned.

“I mean, yeah, obviously.” You blushed, looking away from her, “but it’s not the end of the world that I didn’t.”

“Okay, okay, so tell me about that date,” Lest practically begged, “where’d he take you? Did he kiss you?”

You laughed softly, “I don’t know the name of the place he took me, actually. I wasn’t paying attention. It was nice though, like crazy fucking nice.”

“I knew that part,” she nodded, “Viktor told me to get you dressed up, that’s all, though. Did he pay?”

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes, “while I was in the bathroom, I didn’t even see the check come.”

“Good, as it should be.” Lest nodded, then shrugged in defense at the look you gave her, “Hey, listen, I’m a feminist, but I think a first date should be paid for by the man. Besides! He’s the one that asked you out, when you plan the date, you can pay for it.”

“Oh, you’ll really love this then.” You snorted a laugh, “He ordered for me.”

“Marry this man,” Lest said with a serious look on her face.

“Slow down,” you laughed, “it was very sweet though. Do you remember me telling you about mojama?”

“That weird fish thing from Greece?” she asked, scrunching her nose.

“It’s from Spain, actually,” you corrected, “but I had it in Greece. And it’s not weird, it’s really fucking good. You haven't even tried it. Anyways, he found, like, the only place to get it probably in the whole state.”

“He didn’t,” she gasped.

“He fucking did.” You couldn’t help the smile that split your face so wide your cheeks ached, “he did, I swear. I think I only mentioned it to him once, maybe twice.”

“He is so obsessed with you,” she said, “what a man. Did anything else happen? A kiss? Mayhaps two?”

You laughed at the eager look on her face, “Yes, Lest, he kissed me.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, urging you to continue.

“More than a couple of times,” you admitted, blushing like a kid.

“Okay, okay, please give me details,” she begged, hands clasped to her chest, “just tell me about one of them. Please!”

“We kissed in his car,” you said, thinking about the moment, “at a red light after he picked me up.”

“That’s so cute!” she squealed, “was it, like, soft? Or aggressive?”

“Hm, medium aggressive,” you laughed, “I kissed him first actually. It was nice, really nice.”

“Was he handsy?” she raised an eyebrow.

“No,” you shook your head, placing your hand against your jaw, “he touched my face, but he didn’t do anything crazy.”

“Ugh, a shame,” she joked, sighing dramatically.

“We did get honked at,” you laughed, “we didn’t notice the light change.”

“Oh my god,” Lest gasped, “that is so rom-com of you.”

“He stalled his car out when we tried to drive away,” you told her, “it was so weirdly attractive.”

“Weirdly attractive?” she gasped, “no way. A man being so caught up with you he forgets how to drive his own car? That’s so hot.”

You blushed, shoving your face into the pillow with a groan. Voice muffled when you agreed, “I know.”

Before Lest could press any further, your phone buzzed on the counter. You picked it up, static running through you when you saw the caller ID.

“It’s him,” you hissed at her, half whispering.

“Well fucking answer it,” she whispered back, “be cool.”

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hair down like he’d be able to see you and sitting up before you answered. “Hey, hi.”

Viktor laughed softly on the other end of the line, “Hi. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I’m up,” you assured him, “me and Lest are just talking.”

“How is she?” he asked. You wished you could see him.

“She’s okay,” you pulled your legs to your chest, resting your chin against your knee.

“Good, that’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, “I’m glad she’s okay.”

“Me too,” you agreed, “How are you?”

“Good,” he said, then laughed, “honestly I barely slept. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Oh,” you hid your face behind your knees, “that’s sweet. I, uh, I want to see you today.”

“Are you going to the party tonight?” he asked, referring to the last party of the semester that Jayce had insisted on throwing

“Yeah, but I’d like to see you before then,” you admitted, “like, soon if possible.”

“Good, I want that too,” he said softly.

“Good,” you muttered, avoiding the look Lest was giving you, “um, actually, I was going to go pick up Lest’s phone in a bit. I can pick you up, we can grab breakfast or something?”

“I’d like that,” he said.

“Cool, um, I’ll text you when I leave,” you said, heart racing.

“Sounds good, Milá,” he said, “I will see you soon.”

“See you soon,” you agreed, hesitating for a beat before you hung up.

“Girl, you’re jo-king,” Lest said, blinking at you, “what are you? Fourteen?”

“Oh my god, leave me alone,” you wailed, flopping down into your blankets and pulling a pillow over your face.

“My love, my light,” Lest said, you heard her stand and pad across the floor. She lifted the pillow off your face, looking down at you with soft eyes, “you are such a goner.”

-----

When you reached Viktor’s house, Jayce was out front, shoveling snow off the drive. He waved at you, dropping the shovel in the snow and loping over to your window.

“Morning,” he huffed when you cranked the window down. His breath came out in puffs of white.

“Morning Jayce,” you said, then nodded to the drive, “don’t forget to salt that or it’s gonna be ice by tonight.”

“I know I know,” he waved you off, then tilted his head at you, smirking. “So… how was your night?”

You scoffed, “you are so nosey. Why don’t you ask Viktor, huh?”

“You think I haven't?” He scoffed, “I just want to hear your side of it.”

“Hm, my side is that it was a very good date,” you told him, “I had a very good time.”

“You’re boring, no details?” He asked.

“The details belong to me and Viktor,” you said pointedly.

“Boo,” he huffed, “how am I supposed to talk about your first date at your wedding if I don’t know about it.”

“Jayce, I might actually kill you,” you said, swatting at him.

“You love me, don’t lie,” he laughed, dodging your hand and stepping away. He nodded past you, “who you’re here for, I assume.”

You looked over your shoulder to find Viktor coming down the driveway. Sunglasses on and coat buttoned up to his chin. Jayce jogged over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and saying something you couldn’t hear from where you were. He scoffed, grimacing as his friend retreated back to continue his work. Viktor shook his head, fighting back a smile as he pulled open the truck door and slid inside.

“Good morning,” you said, watching him as he stripped off his coat, “nice sunnies.”

“The snow is so bright,” he huffed, “I know it is stupid.”

“No, you look cute,” you assured, reaching over and coming a hand through his usual untidy hair, “I like them.”

He leaned into your hand, catching you by the wrist and placing a kiss against your palm. He pushed the glasses up, somehow making him look a hundred times better with the frames holding his hair back. He looked over you without the filter of UV lenses, smiling slightly.

“You are beautiful,” he said quietly, leaning towards you.

You met him halfway, kissing him gently. He placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone. He pulled away a fraction, “Good morning, Milá.”

“Good morning,” you muttered again, placing a kiss against the corner of his mouth before sitting back.

He watched you for a moment before speaking, “Do you want to get Lest’s things first? Or get breakfast?”

“Hm,” you thought for a moment, “let’s go to Salo’s place first, I don’t want him to leave before we can get there.”

“Good idea,” he nodded, clipping his seatbelt in as you pulled away from the curb, “did you find the address?”

“No, but Lest’s phone is still charged, so I can track it,” you told him, “luckily, because I really didn’t want to have to try to get ahold of him.”

“That is good,” he nodded, “are you nervous?”

“Hm, no,” you shook your head, then glanced over at him, “Just don’t let me do something that’ll get me in trouble…please.”

“I will do my best to hold you back, Milá,” he laughed, grabbing your hand, “though he deserves whatever you’d do to him.”

“Yes he does,” he agreed, “but unfortunately the law or whatever wouldn’t necessarily agree.”

“That is true,” he laughed, “don’t worry. I want to take you on another date. I won’t let you get arrested.”

“Thank you,” you rolled your eyes, smiling over at him as he squeezed your palm.

“You are very welcome.” He teased, smirking from the other side of the cab.

-----

You tracked Lest’s phone back to Salo’s apartment. You recognized his car in the driveway, aside from that, there was no other sign he lived in the complex. You were hoping maybe for a U of P flag in the window, but you could never get that lucky. The closest you could get was a possible six apartments split between two floors.

“Why didn’t you ask her what floor he was on?” Viktor asked, standing behind your shoulder.

“I didn’t think it would have two floors,” you said, frowning up at the building.

“Don’t all apartment buildings have two floors at least?” he pointed out.

“I guess so,” you shrugged, looking over at him, “I mean, we can just knock right? Shouldn’t take too long?”

“What?” he looked at you in half horror, “do you want to get shot? That is crazy.”

“I’m not gonna get shot,” You rolled your eyes, “it’ll be fine.”

“No, that is bad idea,” he insisted.

“Well how the fuck else are we going to find his apartment?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

Viktor stepped back, tip of his cane twisting into the ground as he thought. He glanced over at Salo’s car.

“You are sure that is his?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “back plate is his name.”

“I hope this works,” he muttered, striding over to Salo’s car. He grabbed the passenger door handle and began yanking on it. The fifth pull set off the alarm.

“Viktor, what the fuck?” you gasped, flinching back.

He shrugged, “you wanted to find him right?”

Only a moment later and you heard Salo’s voice shrieking down from the second floor.

“Well, I found him,” Viktor said.

With a final chirp the alarm shut off. Salo was leaning over the rail glaring down at the pair of you, keys hanging from his fist.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You have something of our friends,” Viktor shouted up. While he held Salo’s attention you darted to the stairs, taking them two at a time to the second floor. You heard Viktor’s voice below you now, “We’re here to get it.”

“I have no idea who you are referring to,” he scoffed, tone grating in your ears.

“The fuck you don’t, Salo,” you snapped, meeting him at his door, “Lest left her phone and coat, give it to me now.”

“That’s what this is about?” Salo sneered, shouting over his shoulder as he stepped inside, “a fucking forgotten phone. I didn’t steal it from them for Christ’s sake.”

While you waited at his door, you heard Viktor shout up from behind you, “Do not do anything stupid, Milá, please.”

“Here,” Salo returned, holding Lest’s coat out to you by the hood, “phone’s in the pocket.”

Instead of taking the coat you snatched him by the wrist, yanking him towards you, “you and I both know this isn’t about the fucking phone” you trapped him close, narrowing your eyes at his and dropping your voice, “if you ever touch her again, I will ruin your sad fucking life. Understood?” He tried to yank away, you tightened your grip, fingers digging into his wrist. “Understood?”

“I didn’t fucking touch them,” he glared at you, rolling his eyes with a huff, “yes, understood.”

You dropped his wrist and grabbed the coat in one quick motion, stepping away from him quickly. When you turned your back you found Viktor walking towards you with his hand outstretched. Before he reached you, you heard the sound of Salo spitting on the ground.

“Bitch.” he hissed, loud enough that his neighbors could probably hear.

Instead of stopping next to you, Viktor stepped right past. You turned just in time to see him wind back and slam his fist against Salo’s jaw. You gasped, reaching out to steady Viktor as both men stumbled. You helped him steady himself on his feet before you tugged him towards the stairs.

“Come on. We have to go, let’s go.” You walked with him as fast as you could down the stairs, a hand on his waist as you muttered, “down with the bad.”

Salo’s rage a blur behind you as you raced to leave. Once you were back into the truck and pulling out of the parking lot you took inventory of the situation. Lest’s coat was on the bench next to you, her phone hopefully still inside the pocket. Viktor was nearly stock-still on the other side of the truck, fists balled in against his thighs, one red and bruising already.

“What happened to not doing anything stupid?” you laughed, glancing over at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said without looking at you, a shake in his voice, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey, no,” you reached over, placing your hand on the back of his neck, “it’s fine. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he shook his head, looking down, “it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You pulled over to the shoulder, parking along the tree line and turning to him. You reached out, placing a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look at you.

“Vik, it’s not a big deal,” you assured him, his eyes were cast down, not meeting yours. “Really, it was about time someone put him in his place,” you laughed softly, “honestly, it was kinda hot, I won’t lie.”

He glanced up to meet your eyes, eyebrows pulled together, “aggression isn’t attractive.”

You sighed, the phrase sounded like someone else's words.

“Not the aggression,” you clarified, sliding closer to him, “the protectiveness.” You placed your other hand against his face, his eyes softened, “thank you. For being my guard dog.”

He leaned into your palm, “tell me if I start guarding too much.”

“Well, you can’t punch every guy that doesn't like me, unfortunately," you laughed, leaning your forehead against his, “as hot as it is.”

“You are crazy,” he said, tilting his chin closer.

“Yeah, and you put up with it,” you pointed out, close enough that your mouth brushed against his when you spoke, “so really it’s your fault. How’s your hand by the way?”

“In horrible pain, now shut up and kiss me please,” he muttered, end of his sentence muffled as he connected with you.

-----

You had reluctantly dropped Viktor back off at his house. You could tell he wanted to ask you to stay, or to be taken back to your place. He didn’t and you were grateful. Telling him no was difficult enough, the temptation of more time with him would be painful to give up. You had things to get done. He knew this, he probably had his own tidying to do anyway. So you left him at his house, leaving him with a kiss and orders to ice his hand.

You were sure you were right about not being able to get anything done with Viktor around, because at the end of the day, you barely got anything done with Lest around. Every couple of minutes she would stop you from what you were doing to ask your opinion on what she should bring home. Were five pairs of shoes too many for a three week trip? Should she bring any of her swimsuits with her, or do you think her old ones would still fit? Did she really need to pack a jacket? (Yes. Her old one would be fine. At least one for the airport.)

Eventually you gave up on trying to pack. You had until tomorrow afternoon to be out of the dorm, you could finish then. Instead, you flopped into your bed and turned on an episode of 90 Day Fiancé, watching idly in between chats with Lest and avoiding picking up your phone. As much as you wanted to text Viktor, time apart was a good thing. He could spend time with Jayce and you could spend time with Lest and you could both be calm and normal about it. You certainly weren’t checking your phone every couple of minutes for texts or anything. No, not at all. When your phone finally did ring, you were disappointed to see not Viktor’s caller ID, but your mother’s. You groaned, burying your face against the bed.

“What?” Lest asked, struggling to shut and zip her suitcase.

“It’s my mom,” you sighed, turning your head and looking at the waiting caller ID.

“Sorry it’s not your boy toy.” She shrugged, “just answer and put her on speaker, I’ll rescue you when she gets crazy.”

“Ew, don’t call him that.” you grimaced, propping yourself up on your elbow. You answered the call, putting it on speaker for Lest to hear.

“Hey mom,” you flipped onto your back, letting your phone rest on your chest.

“Hi baby,” your mother’s voice cooed down the line, warm and pleasant just like how all of your interactions started, “how are you?”

“I’m good,” you told her, cautious of her cheery attitude, “what’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure you got the tickets,” she said, “I emailed them yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah, I saw them in my inbox,” you told her, cringing, “I should have replied, my bad. Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ve been missing you,” she sighed, “I’m excited to finally have a Christmas with you after all these years.”

“Yeah, sorry, just been busy,” you felt like a broken record.

“No, no, don’t apologize,” she brushed it off, “it’s fine that you haven’t visited yet, I get it. Life and all. You do have a life right? You sound so busy, I hope you make time for yourself.”

You gave a dead look over to Lest, whose lip was curled up in disgust. She hated your mother. You closed your eyes and took a breath, schooling your voice into something borderline pleasant.”

“Yeah, I’ve been good. It’s been a… good semester,” you told her. Part of you ached for a mother you could actually talk to. One who wouldn’t have something negative to say about every aspect of your life. Instead, you left it at good and saved the details for someone else. “Finals ended this week, I drive home tomorrow night.”

“Oh already? I wish I had known,” she said, “I would have gotten you a ticket to stay a little longer.”

It’s okay, really,” you insisted, three days was already going to be difficult enough, “I’m working on the boat over break.”

“Honey you work too much,” she scolded.

“Well, grad school won’t pay for itself,” you reminded her.

I know,” she sighed, “still you have to make time for yourself.”

“I do.” You hoped your irritation wasn’t obvious.

“You're gonna love it here,” she said, skipping to a new topic, “it’s so warm and the sun is always out. Are you excited for a sunny Christmas?

“Yeah, totally,” you said. It wasn’t a total lie, you were excited for a couple warm days, you just wished they were with anyone else.

“You know, you could at least try to be a little more excited,” your mom said, tone turning sour.

“I am excited,” you lied, stuttering as you came up with a half assed excuse, “I’m just tired. Finals killed me and I have a lot to do before I drive home tomorrow.”

“Yeah sure. I get it,” she said with childish sarcasm, “you’d rather spend Christmas with your father, but I’m trying here. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

That was enough for Lest to swoop in and save you, “Hey, could you help me get this closed?” she asked loudly from the other side of the room, tugging on the zippers of her suitcase.

“Hey, sorry mom, Lest needs help with her bag,” you sighed, sitting up, “I’ve gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” was her only response before you hung up.

You groaned, tossing your phone somewhere into your blankets and burying your face in your hands.

“Literally what the fuck is wrong with her?” Lest scoffed, standing up away from her bag and putting her hands on her hips, “Like actually, why is she so emotionally immature.”

“Dude, I have no idea,” you sighed, sliding off the bed, “I don’t know.”

“I can’t believe your angel of a father ever put up with her,” she said, “honestly, she needs major therapy.”

“I know.” You shook your head, frowning.

“Hey, forget about it,” she said, walking over and placing her hands on your cheeks, “fuck your mom, you don’t have to even think about her until next week. Right now, your priority is getting laid.”

“Oh my god, Lest,” you laughed, trying to pull away from her.

“No, I’m serious!” she gasped, “it’s been long enough, we’re all sick of the sexual tension. It has to end.”

“Who the fuck is we?” you scoffed, squinting at her.

“The whole world,” she said, spreading her arms wide. When she dropped them she shooed you away, “no go! Take a shower, pack a bag, and get to that man’s house immediately.”

“You’re insane,” you laughed, gathering up your shower bag.

“Duh, it’s why you love me.”

-----

You had planned to get to the party early, hoping for a good parking spot and a few quiet minutes alone with Viktor. As you were leaving campus, though, Jayce had texted, begging for you to pick up a bag of ice. The request completely derailed your plan and by the time you got to their house, cars already lined both sides of the street. You managed to find a spot that was farther than ideal, but luckily not a total trek to the house. You gathered your things — including a tote acting as an overnight bag disguised as a purse — and made your way down the street toward the party.

You carried the bag of ice like a toddler, trying to ignore the cold bite against your hip as you reached the house. The inside of the house was just starting to get humid, luckily not totally suffocating as you squeezed through people on your way to the kitchen. Your friends were where you knew they’d be, leaning against the counters and chatting in the kitchen, getting themselves drunk enough to dance without caring. Everyone who should be there was… except for Viktor.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jayce said, taking the bag of ice from you.

“Yeah, no problem.” You shrugged, looking around for Vik. “What happened to your fridge?”

“I turned the icemaker off by accident,” Jayce said as he tore open the bag and dumped it over cans in the kitchen sink. When he turned around he was holding one out toward you, “can I interest you in a lukewarm cider?”

“No, I’m good for now.” You cringed, waving him off and trying to keep your attention on anyone but the missing piece, “who’s sober tonight?”

“Me,” Cait said from her spot perched on the counter, “voluntarily this time.”

“Voluntarily?” you scoffed, “why would you do that?”

“Because she got white girl wasted last night.” Vi jumped in, patting Cait’s knee.

“On a Thursday?” you laughed, “why?”

“Because, Vi insisted we play a drinking game she knew I would lose,” Cait huffed, swatting at Vi.

“You had just as good of a chance as I did!” Vi insisted.

As they started arguing Mel leaned around Jayce toward you, lowering her voice so only the three of you could hear. “He’s out back.”

So much for being subtle.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You turned your eyes to the girls, watching them as you backed out of the kitchen.

You squeezed through the crowd, grimacing as sweaty kids bumped against you. You followed a couple also stepping out onto the deck, awkwardly grabbing the door before they could close it and slipping outside behind them. You looked around the deck, sparsely populated by kids huddled together sharing joints and cigarettes. You spotted him at the other end, leaning against the wooden railing and facing away from you.

You pushed past the others toward him, placing a hand against his elbow when you were close enough. He glanced down, the slight surprise on his face melting instantly into warm adoration.

“You’re here,” he sighed, slipping his arm behind you.

“I am.” You could feel your heart rate spiking. Every cell in your body shouting him him him. “Long time no see.”

He placed a kiss against your forehead, laughing softly, “God, I know,” he copied your tone, “it’s been, what? Six hours?”

“Practically an eternity,” you rolled your eyes, laughing and knocking your head against his shoulder.

You leaned against the railing, looking up at him. “Why are you out here in the cold?”

“Waiting for you,” he admitted, then waved the carton you didn’t realize he was holding, “I wanted to smoke.”

“Why aren’t you then?” you asked, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair off his forehead gently.

He opened the carton’s lid, showing you the contents. One last cigarette, flipped to be tobacco end up. “Lucky cigarette. Wanted to share it with you.”

He plucked it out of the carton, holding the filter end out to your lips. You let him place it in your mouth, watching his face as he flicked the lighter on and held it out to you. You took a drag, pulling the flame into the tobacco until the cherry stayed lit. You plucked the cigarette out of your mouth, beckoning him closer. He caught on and dipped his head, pressing his lips to yours and breathing in when you parted your lips, letting the smoke spill out. He finished it with a kiss before pulling back and breathing out.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked, taking the cigarette when you handed it to him.

“Only way to share the luck,” you shrugged, slipping your hand under the cuff of his sleeve, “did you not like it?”

“No,” he shook his head, “no, it was — I liked it a lot…” He leaned in smirking at you, “Do it again.”

You laughed, pushing his arm. “Maybe later if you’re lucky.”

“Well, according to this,” he tapped his finger against the cigarette, ashing it over the side of the deck, “tonight I should be.”

“Hey, we’re sharing that luck,” you reminded him.

“You are exactly who I’d like to share luck with anyhow.” He turned to lean backwards against the rail, “so that’s perfect.”

“Uh, speaking of,” you laughed awkwardly, patting the tote bag on your shoulder, “could I put this in your room?”

“Of course,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the key, “do you want me to come or-”

“No, it’s fine,” you insisted. If you were in his room with him this early in the night, no one would see either of you for the rest of it, “I’m just gonna drop this. I’ll be right back.”

You took the key and walked away from him, moving through the small crowd back towards the house. Inside Jayce and the others had started up a game of beer pong at the dining table.

Jayce called your name as you passed by, stopping you. “Hey, did you find V? We’re starting a tournament, you should come play.”

You laughed, “Sure, let us finish smoking and we’ll come in.”

When you stepped back outside, Viktor was where you left him a figure hovering by his side. As you got closer you realized it was Donna, the first year barista who was so obviously crushing on him.

Delicately, you approached them, not wanting to intrude on a situation that may already be fragile. From behind Donna seemed happy enough, just chatting as Viktor smiled politely and nodded along. It wasn’t a real smile. It was the one he put on when he knew it was what someone wanted from him. When he knew that they’d take his natural, somewhat mild, expression as disinterest.

The fake smile dropped when he spotted you, replaced quickly with a real one. Donna looked over her shoulder, spotting you and having the opposite reaction.

“Hey,” you said, taking the cigarette as he held it out to you. You took a drag, turning to the younger girl, “Donna right?”

“Yeah, and you are?” she asked, waving away the smoke she had no problem with when it was coming from Viktor’s lungs.

You told her your name as you handed the cigarette back to Viktor. “You work in the cafe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking back up at Viktor, “we were just talking about that, actually. It’s so funny, you know, I can hardly remember anyone’s usuals, except for Viktor.”

“Oh, is that so?” You knew exactly what she was doing. You could fight mild pettiness with mild pettiness, no problem.

As she rattled off his order, you dug into your pocket and pulled out Viktor’s key.

“And I mean, it’s just so funny that he gets such a sweet drink,” she said, a hand on her hip, “you just wouldn’t expect from someone like him.”

You laughed with her, then handed the key over to Viktor, “here’s your key back, babe. I hung my bag on your desk chair, is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, hesitating for a fraction of a second.

You leaned against the railing, shoulder to shoulder with Viktor, and returned your attention back to Donna, “Sorry, you were saying?”

She blinked at you and took a measured breath through her nose, “Nothing.”

With that she turned on her heel and walked away, disappearing off into the house. Viktor looked down at you, eyebrow raised. “Really?”

“What?” You shrugged, plucking the cigarette back from him.

“Here’s your key back, babe.” He mocked, “was that necessary?"

“Hey, I could’ve just told her to back the fuck off,” you retorted, “would that have been better?”

“You could have just ignored it,” he countered.

“Hey, listen, every freshman gets their bubble burst at some point, okay? She’ll be fine.” you insisted, “she will find someone else to be into and move on as soon as she gets attention.”

“Why do you think that?” he asked, turning his body towards you.

“Because, that's just what being a freshman is like,” you told him, “happens to everyone.”

“No, you said she’ll find someone else to ‘be into.’ What does that mean?” he clarified, eyes on your face, “Why do you think every woman that looks my way wants me like that?”

You turned to him, placing the nearly gone cigarette between his lips and letting your fingers linger against his face. “Because, Viktor, you are so beautiful…and kind and smart. You have no idea.” The glow of the cherry lit his face as he breathed in, “You are so incredible and I…I can’t help but believe that everyone else is just as infatuated with you as I am.”

You watched his face as he swallowed hard, a flicker of…something darting across his features. He looked like he was waiting for something to land. A punchline. A fist.

He took the dead cigarette out of his mouth, pressing it out against the grain of the wood railing. When both hands were free he cupped your face, ducking his head down. You tilted your chin up to meet him in a gentle kiss. He pulled back, face still close to yours. The smallest smile pulled at his muscles, his pupils blown wide.

All you could think was: Lucky.

“Do you want to go inside?” he asked.

“Yes,” you nodded, “but you should know that I told Jayce we’d play them in pong.”

Viktor tipped his head back and groaned. “Why must you volunteer me for these things?”

“Oh come on,” you laughed, nudging his shoulder, “it’s fun. And besides, if I didn’t volunteer you, then you’d be spending the whole night in the garage smoking and listening to Radiohead.”

“That sounds perfect,” he said, trailing after you as you stepped away, “would you be there.”

“Well, probably,” you admitted, sliding open the door and turning to him, “but for the sake of this argument… No. I would be in here playing beer pong with our friends. Alone, apparently.”

“Spratek,” he muttered, chasing after you into the house.

He trailed behind you, a hand on your shoulder as you led the way through the crowd, a comforting tether. You slipped towards the repurposed dining table, reaching it just as a glow-in-the-dark ping pong ball splashed into a plastic cup of beer. On the winning end of the table Cait whooped, high fiving her girlfriend. On the losing end Mel groaned, picking up the cup and fending off Jayce.

“No, you’re done for like half an hour,” she scolded, pushing him away as he reached for it.

“I am not that drunk,” he insisted as if he wasn’t swaying on his feet.

“Sure you’re not,” Viktor mused, laughing softly as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall

“We are clearly losing,” Mel said, gesturing to the table, “so good luck playing against the ex-basketball star and sober sharpshooter over there.” She dropped her voice and leaned close to you, “don’t let them fill the cups up, they rig it.”

You gave her a firm thumbs up, and took the spot next to Viktor to watch them finish the game. Even in his drunken state, Jayce managed to nail a couple of cups on the girls’ side of the table. Their lead was too far ahead, though, and the game was over in what felt like minutes.

Viktor leaned his head down, mouth close to your ear. “I wasn’t planning on drinking.”

You turned your head, eyes meeting his. Even in the low light, you didn’t miss the blush gracing his face and neck. You smiled, “Me either.” You glanced towards the table and raised an eyebrow, “think we can get away with half an inch of White Claw in them?”

“Eh, we can try.” He stepped away from the wall and grabbed the remaining two cans out of the box under the table. He looked at them and turned to you, “Peach or grapefruit?”

“Peach, for sure.” You told him, stepping up to the table and rearranging the cups.

He began to divvy up the drink, earning a complaint from Vi.

“You two are so lame!” She shouted over the music.

“We’re almost out of cans!” you insisted, “it’s stupid to waste them.”

“Boo! Tomato, tomato,” Vi taunted, pouring beer into the cups that had been emptied on her side.

“Sorry some of us don’t want to get black out drunk,” you argued, not looking at them as you poured.

“Oh, I get it now,” Cait joined in, smirking at you and Viktor. She laughed and leaned in, whispering in Vi’s ear. Her girlfriend’s eyes went wide, a devious smile breaking out on her face.

“Oh my god, you sluts.” Vi gasped, hands on her hips.

“Violet!” you gasped, “what is wrong with you?”

Next to you, Viktor shucked off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. “You know what, Vi?” he said, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt past his forearms and picking up a ball. “You’re right. We’re sluts and we’re winning this game.

He launched the ball, sinking it with ease into the point of the opposing triangle.

Vi picked up the cup and fished the ball out before downing the contents. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she said, “Beginner’s luck.”

“We’ll see.” Viktor shrugged, handing the other ball to you and nodding confidently.

Your shot was a near miss, but luckily landed. By the end of the game, what Vi called beginner’s luck turned out to just be skill. With every shot Viktor made, Vi started to sink less of hers, and on her own Cait couldn’t keep up. You both had to down a handful of your own cups, but Viktor called your win from the beginning

“Set ‘em up again!” Vi cried, “I want a rematch.”

“We’re good,” you laughed, waving her off, “you two should play each other…with water maybe?”

“No fun,” she huffed, leaning heavily on her girlfriend.

“Next time,” Viktor told her, “we’ll play with vodka shots, too.”

Vi scrunched her nose at the idea.

“Tequila maybe?” He offered, laughing as Vi gagged.

You rolled your eyes, turning to the sober girlfriend. “We’re gonna go track down Mel and Jayce.”

She nodded and, as you walked away from her, called out something in a suggestive tone. Something you luckily didn’t quite catch. You found Mel and Jayce in the kitchen, both leaning against the counter, facing each other as Jayce slowly chewed ice.

“Overdone it, buddy?” you asked, patting him on the shoulder. He moaned and nodded pitifully.

“You’ll live,” Viktor told him, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. “But you will probably not learn.”

“Probably not,” Mel agreed, refilling Jayce’s cup with ice cubes.

“Listen, getting drunk is like giving birth,” Jayce declared, waving his cup around. The three of you paused, looking at each other and then at Jayce.

“What?” you asked, squinting at him. You pushed yourself up to sit on the counter as he began to explain.

“Like birth, ya know, how it’s painful and all,” Jayce said, pausing for an acknowledgment.

“So we’ve been told,” Mel agreed, blinking up at her boyfriend.

“Well, everyone who’s done that, giving birth I mean,” he said, as if that's where the clarification was needed, “they say that they just… forget how horrible it was.”

“Yes, everyone knows that,” you said. “What does it have to do with drinking?”

“When I drink this much, I feel horrible,” he continued. “I'm nauseous, I can barely stand, can’t get it up half the time. Tomorrow I’ll feel even worse. But by next week I won’t remember that part. I’ll just remember the good parts and do it all over again.” He looked between the three of you and then shrugged, “The drinking is the baby, and the hangover is the labor.”

“Okay, my love, I think it’s time for you to go to sleep,” Mel said, placing a hand on his arm.

“I think so too,” Jayce nodded, back to being pitiful.

“Goodnight, you two,” Mel said, guiding Jayce through the kitchen. “We’re going to bed.”

“We’ll talk about how you handle your liquor later.” Viktor said, reaching up and squeezing his best friend’s shoulder, “Goodnight Jayce. Goodnight Mel.”

“Night, guys,” you echoed.

“Have a good night,” Jayce said. “Have fun. don’t get pregnant.”

“Oh my god,” you yelped, covering your face with your hands, taken off guard by the well-wishing.

“Jezis, Jayce!” Viktor flinched, grimacing. “Go the fuck to bed.”

“Come one Jayce,” Mel laughed, walking with him towards the stairs, she called a teasing “goodnight,” over her shoulder.

You kept your hands over your face, flashes of colorful light seeping into the spaces between your fingers. Viktor moved to stand between your knees, his hands moving over your thighs.

“How do all our friends know we’re having sex?” you muttered into your palms.

He laughed, hands coming up to your wrists, “Why do you care, Milá?” He pulled your hands away from your face. “What difference does it make?”

“I don’t know,” you huffed. “Are we that obnoxious and obvious that everyone knows what's going on with us?”

“Eh, maybe.” He stepped closer into your space, hands braced against the counter on either side of your hips. “I don’t particularly care.”

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, then scoffed. “I just want whatever we have going on to be ours for a little bit. I don’t want to share it yet. Don’t want anyone to ruin it.”

“No one is going to ruin it,” he promised, leaning closer as you slipped your arms over his shoulders. “Trust me.”

You toyed with the ends of his hair, nose bumping against his as you breathed. “I trust you.”

Your eyes fell shut as he kissed you, pulling in a breath through his nose as he tilted his chin up to kiss you deeper. Then a flash behind your eyelids made you pause. Viktor broke away from you to look over his shoulder. You caught a brief glimpse of Jinx’s face before another camera flash blinded you.

“What the fuck?” you groaned, rubbing your eyes, “I thought you were doing a dry December.”

“I am,” she said, stepping closer, Ekko on her heels, the third overly drunk partner of the night, “I’m just like this. ”

“This is normal for you?” Viktor asked, “taking stalker photos?”

“Oh come one,” she pouted, “that one's gonna be cute. I couldn’t help myself. And besides, you’re wrong. I’m taking pictures of everyone with these.”

She held out a pair of New Year’s Eve glasses, the kind where the eye holes were in the numbers. Except these ones weren’t for the new year.

“Jinx, those say 1996,” you said, raising an eyebrow at her. Viktor turned, still between your knees, and leaned back against you.

“Yeah, which was thirty years ago,” She said as if that was what made it make sense. “Pretty cool, right? I found them in my dad’s stuff. Put them on.”

She waved them at you until you took them, humoring her by sliding the glasses on your face. You turned to Viktor.

“How do I look?”

“Thirty years younger,” he replied.

You laughed, turning to Jinx so she could take your photo. When you were sufficiently blinded again, you took the glasses off, handing them over to Viktor.

“Your turn, Loverboy,” Jinx sang, as he put them on. You kissed him on the cheek as she took the photo, “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Viktor shook his head, turning to you, “don’t encourage her,” he said with a barely restrained smile.

“I’ll leave you to whatever weird little mating ritual you have going on,” Jinx said, waving her hands at you dramatically, taking Ekko by the hand and heading off to find her next subject.

Viktor laughed, leaning back further against you and picking up his glass of water. You leaned your chin on his shoulder, accepting some of the water when he held the cup to your lips. You wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Vik,” you said, voice quiet but close enough for him to hear.

He turned his head, humming in question as your nose bumped his cheek.

“I mean, since everyone already knows,” you said, looking him in the eye, “do you maybe want to go to your room now?”

He raised his eyebrows, blinking at you before nodding, “yeah. Yes.”

“Cool,” you said, trying to sound casual. You pushed his back gently until he stepped away enough for you to slide off the counter. You grabbed his cane from where it was leaning next to him, “Lead the way.”

You took his free hand and let him guide you through the house. You didn’t bother looking anywhere but at him. The back of his jaw as he walked in front of you. The lights glancing off his pale skin and the ends of his hair. The way that, despite the humid heat around you, gooseflesh spread across the back of his neck. When you reached his door he was forced to drop your hand and fish out the key from his pocket. As he fumbled with the lock you slid your hand under the back of his shirt, nails raking gently across his skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, glancing over his shoulder at you before going back to trying to open the door.

When he got it open he held it for you, letting you step into the dim light of his room in front of him. He followed, closing the door gently and locking it. The sounds from the rest of the house were muffled behind the door. The music and chatter of people blending into a low tone with a rhythm. Your breath caught in your throat as you stood in front of each other. You took a step towards him. When you were close enough you reached out, your hands sliding up his arms, coming to rest against the back of his neck.

“Viktor,” you said his name just to taste it, impatient to taste the real thing.

He grasped you by the waist, cane clattering to the ground as he did so. You pushed yourself up onto your toes, and he met you half way in a kiss that felt like a line snapping. The space between your bodies disappeared in an instant, his chest pressed to yours in a desperate plea for closeness.

He turned, bringing you with him and pressing your back to the door. His tongue in your mouth disrupted your balance, causing you to stumble slightly, the back of your head knocking gently into the door.

“Sorry, fuck, sorry,” he muttered hand cupping the back of your skull as he broke away from you.

“I’m fine. I’m okay,” you laughed, chasing his mouth.

Any protest died as you pressed the flat of your tongue to his, tasting shared drinks and shared cigarettes. His hand came up to your throat, fingers reaching around the base of your jaw. He held you open as he licked into your mouth, taking everything he could while you pulled at the back of his shirt. You moved your hands down to his waist, pushing the fabric up his body. When you reached his armpit he stepped away, taking over and yanking his shirt the rest of the way off. He tried to regain his space, but you stopped him. Hands against his waist you held him away from your body so you could see him. It had been months since you had seen this much of him, you didn’t realize how much you craved it until you had it back. You tried to catch your breath as you took him in, all pale skin and harsh lines and freckles. Your hands glided gently over him, fingertips tracing the invisible constellations between his stars. You looked up, meeting his eyes. Eyes wide and cheeks red as he watched you touch him, pupils so big they nearly overtook the amber.

“You are so beautiful,” you sighed, melting in front of him.

Your name fell from his lips, eyes falling shut as you reached his chest, fingertips catching against his nipple. “Oh lasko” he muttered, eyebrows pulled together and lips parted.

He pulled you closer, an arm behind your shoulders holding you to him as he kissed you again. His other hand slid down your side, hand coming to grab against the curve of your ass. He pressed you closer to him, letting you feel how hard he was through his jeans. You whined at the jolt it sent through you.

“Please Vik,” you gasped, hand buried in his hair.

He let you step him away from the door, moving with him as he kissed you. You tried to push him to sit on the edge of the bed, instead he turned you around, making you sit. It wasn’t where you had planned to end up, but you got you where you wanted to be anyways. You grabbed him by the belt, pulling his stomach towards your lips. You kissed his navel, teeth grazing against the soft skin making him shudder. He stuttered out your name as you brought your hand up to palm him through his jeans. Even through the denim you could feel him twitch at the contact. You pressed your cheek to the waistband of his jeans, breathing him in as you looped your arm around his thigh. His hands rested against your shoulders, fingers flexing as you touched him. You began to pull at the buckle when he made you stop.

“Milá, Milá wait,” he groaned, pulling your hands away, “just wait,”

You looked up at him, “I’m sorry!” you said, blinking up at him as you tried to calm your breath, “I should have asked, I’m sorry.”

“What?” he shook his head, “no, you didn’t have to ask, I just, I want to do something first.”

“Do what?” You raised an eyebrow at him,

“Ah, nosey girl,” he scrunched his nose, waving your question off. You could see the line of his teeth. A line you saw in dreams, along with the red creeping up his chest.

“You’re blushing,” you tried and failed to bite back a smile.

“Czech men do not blush,” He said, giving you a flat look, so close to a pout. Reaching up for him, you pulled his face to yours. You tried to kiss him between laughs, teeth clashing more than lips. You tried to pull him down to you, and he stopped you again.

“No,” he said, regaining some kind of composure, “no I was trying to do something, impatient girl.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you held your hands up in defense, “I can’t help it.

He kissed you again, muttering, “lay back,” against your lips.

You nodded, falling back to your elbows as you watched him drop to his knees in front of you. He kissed your denim covered knee, scoffing a laugh and looking up at you. “Couldn’t have worn a skirt?”

“It's cold outside.” You shrugged, silently agreeing with him, “besides, watching you take my jeans off is hotter than a skirt. I like seeing you work for it,”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the buckle of your belt, and undoing it as you watched. When he had your jeans undone he leaned forward, pushing your shirt up and pressing a kiss to the very bottom of your belly. You bit your lip at the contact, his lips cool against your warm skin.

“Have I not been,” he licked your skin, then pulled at the elastic of your underwear with his teeth, “working for it?”

He began to tug at the fabric of your jeans, sliding it down your hips until you had to brace your toes against the floor and push your pelvis off the bed. He took your underwear with the denim, thighs pressed together over one of his shoulders as he worked your jeans off, holding your ankles up as he tugged your shoes off, tossing them somewhere to the side.

He pressed a kiss to your bare ankle, then your knee. Then gently he pulled your thighs apart, dipping under one and letting your feet settle to the ground, his ribs between your knees. You couldn’t help the heat rising in your chest as his eyes traveled over you. His handles skated up your thighs, fingers pressing into your flesh.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, bending down and kissing your thigh, “so wet just from kissing me.”

“Viktor,” you panted, spreading your knees wider.

He bit down on your leg before righting himself. You watched curiously as he closed his eyes and, of all things, did the sign of the cross. Fingers gracing against his forehead chest then shoulders before he pressed his palms together. You couldn’t help the laugh that burst from your chest.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you giggled, knees closing around his ribs.

“It is the proper thing to do before eating, is it not?” he asked, tilting his head at you and pushing your knees back apart.

“I don’t think this was what they had in-” your sentence was cut off as he dipped his head between your thighs, licking a broad stripe through your core. “mind,” you gasped, trying to keep your head up.

He adjusted his grip, coaxing your knees to hook over his shoulders. You struggled to keep yourself on your elbows, wanting to watch him eat you out. He lapped at you like he’d never taste anything else ever again. Lips sucking against your clit making your hips jolt. The ball of your foot pressed into his shoulder blade, the ball of the other foot skating down the curve of his back. He pulled away to breath, cheek pressed to the inside of your thigh as he panted. He looked up at you from under his lashes, lips swollen and bottom half of his face wet with spit and you.

“I dream of this, Milá,” he said, pressing a kiss that turned to a bite against the inside of your thigh, “so much better than I could have imagined.”

He dropped his head again, tongue dragging slowly against your swollen flesh. He was everywhere it felt best, the spaces usually ignored out of ignorance. Your breath shook as you watched him, the feeling of his hair brushing against the inside of your thighs and lower belly magnified in this state. His pale hands splayed out against your thighs, lithe fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave bruises later. The kind you’d press against just to feel them ache.

Then he pushed his tongue inside you. Finally you gave in and dropped your shoulders to the bed. The trade off for watching him was a hand buried in his hair. Cold and soft as you carded your fingers through the strands. The shallow but perfect pressure of him trying to taste as much of you as he could made you see stars. Eyes pressed closed as his nose pressed against your clit, making everything in your body pull tight. He hummed against you, the vibration making you cry out. You covered your mouth with your free hand, muffling the sound. He made an indignant noise from between your legs, reaching up and prying your hand off your mouth. He laced your fingers together, holding your hand tightly on your lower belly.

You tried and failed to keep quiet, grateful for the loud party happening just outside the door. “Fuck, Viktor,” you panted, “oh my god, Vik. So fucking good.”

He smiled against you, cocky as ever as he pulled these sounds from you. With his free hand he grabbed under your knee, pushing your leg up until your heel caught on the edge of the bed. With you open wider for him and a hand free he spread you apart, your cunt exposed completely to the cold air. He pressed a fingertip to your clit, pressing gently as he traced a line down to your entrance. He looked up, locking eyes with you as he pushed in, making your jaw drop.

“Okay, Milá?” he asked, watching you carefully. He hooked his finger slightly, catching against the spot everyone chases.

“Yes, so okay,” you said looking down at him desperately, “please more.”

“Yes, Lasko,” he nodded, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he watched his own fingers press inside. He dipped his head back down to continue tasting you. Lips sealing around your clit and sucking.

You practically screamed at the feeling, back arching up as he fucked you with his fingers. He set a frustrating pace. Just fast enough that you both knew you would come soon, and just slow enough to make you wait for it. He rested his cheek against the crook of your thigh, as closed as his tongue worrying at your clit sent parks down your nervous system. Fire flooding your body. He let you rock your hips up onto his face, breaking his composure and gasping as he fucked you harder. His thumb joining his tongue against your clit was enough to send you over the edge.

You cried out, muscles pulsing around his fingers as he fucked you through it. The feeling of cool heat spreading through your body, everything tensing up before giving in and melting into the bed.

“You are so fucking perfect,” he panted, head resting on your leg as he watched you. His thumb still pressed into your clit, fingertips in your cunt still slowly moving. “coming so hard around my fingers, god, you are so incredible.”

Your body jerked at the feeling, oversensitive and overdone. You whined, reaching down for him, “ah, too much, Viktor. Too much.”

“Sorry,” he hummed, slipping his fingers out and pressing a kiss to your shin, “I’m sorry moje lasko.”

You pushed up on your elbows, attempting a tired smile as you met his eyes. Somehow he shared the fucked out expression on your own face. Eyes half lidded and breathing hard as he tipped his temple against your knee. You didn’t look away as he pressed his soaked fingers into his mouth. His eyebrows pulled together, eyes falling shut as he licked you off himself.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he sat back on his heels. You cringed as he gently guided your foot back to the ground. The tendons in your leg stiff from the position. You pushed yourself to sit up, fingers gliding through his hair as you bent to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around you, hands pressing flat to your spine. You panted into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as you kissed him. You pulled his lip between your teeth, tugging gently.

He gasped, shuddering and dropping his head to your lap when you let go. He panted, clinging on to you. You smoothed your hand over his shoulders, toying with the short hair at the nape of his neck. He moved his own hands over your lower back, pushing up under the hem of your shirt.

“Viktor?” you whispered, hand on the back of his neck, “are you okay?”

“Yes, Milá” he nodded, voice strained, “I’m sorry, just trying not to embarrass myself.”

“You sound American,” you said softly, then mimicking his accent, “what are you sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” he laughed, tilting his head back to look up at you.

“I should be the sorry one,” you insisted with wide eyes, “I could have been getting head like that this whole time?”

He barked a laugh, smiling wide as he pressed his face against your thigh. A blush creeping across his neck. You giggled, bending down to press a kiss to his shoulder.

“Come up,” you said standing. Gently you helped him move to sit up on the edge of the bed. He winced as he settled.

“Are you okay?” You asked again, cupping his face.

“Yes, Milá, I promise,” he said, hands coming up to rest on your hips, “I will tell you when I’m not.”

He tipped his chin back, asking silently for a kiss. You dipped down, pressing your lips to his. You felt his hands slide up, pushing the fabric of your shirt up or torso. You laughed gently.

“What? You don’t like my shirt?” You faked pouted, pulling away a few inches.

“It’s beautiful, my favorite color even,” he shook his head, eyebrows raised, “but I would like to see it somewhere else. The floor perhaps.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing at him and laying your hands on his face, “You are such a man.”

He shrugged as you dropped your hands. Leaning your torso back you pulled your shirt over your head. Making a display for him. You hung your shirt out to the side, opening your hand wide and dropping it to the floor.

“How does it look on the floor?” You asked, tilting your head at him,

“So, so good,” he muttered, hauling you closer to him and pressing his lips to your sternum.

You gasped, head tilting back, one hand in his hair the other used to steady yourself against his shoulder. He muttered in Czech against your skin, pressing slow kisses over your chest. His hands moved up your sides, fingertips skating along the underside of your breast.

He hummed, eyes falling shut as he pulled your nipple between his teeth. You dropped your chin, eyelids heavy as you watched him suck and bite at the swell of flesh.

“Moje holka” he muttered, teeth still clamped down around your nipple, “jsi tak krásná.”

You pressed your thighs together, the feeling of his tongue and teeth against your chest settling low in your belly.

“Viktor,” you gasped, fingers digging into his shoulder, “oh fuck, Vik please.”

“Yes moje lasko?” He asked around a mouthful of you.

“I need you,” you whimpered, desperation clawing at your nerves. He pulled his mouth off of you in exchange for resting his chin against your sternum, face upturned.

“Budeš mou smrtí, dokonalá holka,” he said, eyes falling closed as he leaned into your palm.

He leaned back, hands dropping from your waist down to the brace on his leg. You watched him begin to pull at the closures, hands shaking in their eagerness. You gently dropped to your knees in front of him, reaching out and stopping his frantic hands.

“Can I help?” you asked, looking up at him.

He reached down, nodding as he brushed your hair behind your ear. You readjusted on your knees, sitting back on your heels as you began to undo his brace. You took over where he started, from the top down. He was wearing his heavier brace, you noticed. It wasn’t the one he had been wearing when you saw him earlier in the day. When all the clasps were undone you looked up unsure where to go from there.

“I’ve got it,” he said, then nodded behind you, “could you grab my k-tape, though? Safe not sorry.”

You let him take the weight of the brace out of your hands and stood up. Your arms came up to cross over your chest instinctively as you stepped across his room towards his dresser. When you turned back with the tape and scissors you caught him watching you. He had moved the brace, leaving it to lean against his bedside table until it was needed again, and slid back on the bed. He held himself up on his elbows, belt half undone and bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he looked at you.

“Did you ask me to get this just to stare at me?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Yes,” he lied, tone cocky, “do a spin…”

You rolled your eyes, dropped your arms to your sides, and did a dramatic little spin for him. He smiled at you, watching you cross the room. When you reached him, you kneeled on the bed between his ankles, setting the tape to the side. You reached for his belt, undoing it the rest of the way and getting to work on the fly of his jeans. You hooked your fingers into the waistband, pulling at the denim without taking his boxers with them. The fabric tenting over his cock was tempting, but you forced yourself to focus on the jeans first. Jeans off, tape on, then boxers. He laughed quietly above you, making you glance up, eyebrows pulling together.

“What?” you asked, hands stilling.

“I’m sorry,” he waved it off, “it’s nothing. Just, the way you licked your lips right now was unexpected. Unexpected but very very hot.”

You scoffed, hiding your blush by looking away and going back to work on undressing him. You freed him from his jeans, holding his ankle up to pull them the rest of the way off. You couldn’t stop the impulsive thought before you bit down on the bridge of his foot.

He gasped an offended, “ow.” blinking at you.

You huffed a laugh, holding his leg up and pressing a kiss against his shin. Another bite to follow. You trailed your way up the length of his leg like this. Kiss. Bite. Kiss. Bite. Kiss. Bite…Until you were settled between his thighs, ankles crossed in the air as you dragged a fingertip over his clothed cock. You hooked your fingers into the elastic, tugging it down until he was free. The sound of his cock slapping his stomach made your stomach flutter. Despite the lack of physical attention, he was fully hard. The flush of pink a beautiful contrast to his pale skin. You kissed — then bit — his hip bone, eyes up and locked on his. You crawled slightly closer, savoring the sound that came from his throat when you pressed another kiss to the tip. You looked up at him through your lashes, smirk pulling at your lips before you bared your teeth.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” He warned, stiffening up at your threat.

You laughed, dipping your head down and licking instead. He gasped, head lolling backwards and a hand reaching up to grab your shoulder. You let out a self satisfied sound at his reaction, hand coming up to hold him where you wanted. He cursed, whimpering as you pressed your face to his cock, flat of your tongue dragging from base to tip. You took just the tip of him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head as you sucked gently.

Your name fell broken from his lips, hips bucking up just slightly, “tape, please, let me tape up so I can fuck you properly, oh god.”

You fake pouted around his cock in your mouth, releasing him with a gentle pop. He was leaking already, you could taste some of it on your tongue and watched in awe as pearly drops slipped down his length. You sat up, grabbing the tape and scissors off the edge of the bed and handing them over. You moved out of his way, sitting back on your heels next to him as he began to tape his knee up. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, eyes on his face as you admired his look of concentration. The familiar task didn’t take him long and after a test flexion of the joint, he turned to you. Hand coming up to your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. You hummed, clinging onto him as his tongue slid against yours. Clumsily you climbed into his lap, pushing him to lay down as you straddled him. His hands moved over your back, grip tightening as you settled against him, his cock trapped between the wet heat between your legs and his abdomen. You ground down gently, gasping at the feeling of him sliding against you.

“Oh fuck, Milá,” he panted, veins in his neck straining as you moved against him, “feels so good moje lasko.”

You whimpered, nearly falling forward when the head caught against your clit. “Fuck, Vik, do you have-”

Before you even finished your sentence he was braced on one elbow, reaching over to his bedside drawer and yanking it open. You moved backwards slightly, letting his cock spring up. You watched his face as you touched him, your hand lightly stroking him as he found a condom and tore the package open. As soon as he had it rolled down his length, he slipped his arm around your shoulders and shocked you by flipping you over. You let out a half yelp half laugh, clinging on to him in reflex.

“Oh my god, Viktor,” you gasped, cheeks hurting from smiling as you giggled, “and you call me dramatic.”

“Shh, Milá,” he said, pressing his nose to your cheek, “I said I wanted to fuck you properly, let me do that.”

Your laugh fizzled out into a desperate plea. Your knees falling to the sides and arms wrapping tighter around his shoulders. His chest was pressed to yours, lips pressing gentle kisses against your neck.

“You are so perfect,” he said against your skin, his

You caught his lips in a kiss, gasping into each other's mouths as he pushed into you. He moved slowly, watching you carefully as he bottomed out. You clung onto his shoulder, the other hand buried in his hair, holding his face close to yours as you panted. He pulled back slightly before moving back in.

“Please move, Vik,” you begged, lips against his jaw. You hook your leg over his leg, pulling him closer.

He nodded, gently picking up his pace. He dropped his forehead to yours, fingers brushing through your hair as he rocked into you. Your vision swam in amber, pressure building in your muscles. Each time he bottomed out, he’d grind into you, pelvic bone pressing against your clit.

“You feel so good, Milá,” he whined, “so fucking good.”

He hooked his arm under your knee, hitting even deeper as he changed the angle. The gentle curve of his cock hit you in just the right place to send sparks across your vision. You cried out, fingers tugging at his hair. His eyes feel shut, a choked sound coming from his throat as you pull at the chestnut strands.

“You’re so pretty Viktor,” you whispered, enamored with everything about him. Flushed skin and beauty marks and sweat and swollen lips and crooked teeth. You pulled him in to kiss you, occupying your mouth with his instead of words neither of you were ready for.

His lips parted, tongue pressing against yours. You licked his teeth, desperate to memorize the line of them. He braced forearms next to your head, his weight dropping against you. Every nerve felt raw, exposed, as his skin slid against yours. You held on to his bicep, the other hand sliding down the curve of his back to rest against his ass. You could feel his muscles flex with each thrust into you.

“Miluji tě,” he muttered, eyebrows pulled together in desperation, “jsem do tebe tak zamilovaný.”

You felt his rhythm stutter, a slight hesitation as he lifted his hips up. You braced a foot against the bed, rolling up to meet him half way. You could feel exactly where he was inside of you, hitting hard against a spot that made everything warm. You were sure if you pressed your hand to your belly you’d feel him hit your palm. You wound your arms around his shoulders, overwhelmed tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m so close, Vik,” you whimpered, “fuck, you feel so good. So perfect. Just like that, I’m so close.”

He nodded, forehead dropped against yours, “Fuck, come for me, Milá,” he panted, maintaining his movement, “you’re doing so good, come on my cock.”

Breathy cries slipped past your lips as the ropes holding everything together snapped. He sucked in a sharp breath as you dragged your nails down his back, fighting for purchase in the real world. You felt him move inside as you pulsed around him, his movement frantic as he neared his own edge. He gasped, jaw falling open as he came. He slowed, each thrust lingering in your warmth just a second longer than the last until he stilled. You could feel him twitch inside of you as he filled the condom. You held his weight on top of you, his face in your neck and your lips pressing against his shoulder.

“Fuck Viktor,” you sighed, pressing a line of kisses along his skin, your nails dragging gently up and down his back, stark contrast to the clawing you had done earlier, “god, that was so good.”

“You’re incredible, Milá,” he said, pressing a kiss under your year.

You squeezed his hips with your thighs, the ball of your foot sliding down the back of his leg, “do you feel okay?”

He scoffed, “What do you think?”

“No,” you scolded, “does your hip hurt? Are you sore?”

“Are you?” He asked, rubbing his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

“Very, but in a good way,” you admitted, you could feel the tendons of your legs burning.

“Me too,” he assured, kissing where he could reach.

“I’m so obsessed with you.” You nosed at his cheek, smiling, “you are so perfect.”

“Is it redundant of me to say likewise,” he asked, lifting his head. He smoothed your hair back, brushing strands off your forehead as he looked in your eyes, he pressed a kiss to your lips, soft and slow.

“I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” you teased, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, damp with sweat and slowly curling up.

“I am obsessed with you, Milá,” he said, as starry eyed as could be, “You are beautiful and perfect and frustrating and brilliant and sexy and everything I have ever wanted and I am obsessed with you.”

“Hm, that’s more like it,” you joked, tilting your chin up and kissing him to hide the way your throat tightened.

You laid with him like this, cock still inside your, face pressed to your neck, breathing slowly as you traced patterns on his back. You laid with him like this until the world outside started to come back into focus. You registered the music pounding from the speakers just outside the door, the chatter of people still in the house. You laughed gently.

“What?” he asked, voice tired.

“It’s going to be so hard to get water,” you pointed out, chin hooked over his shoulder.

“I filled my water bottle,” he told you, then offered, “do you want tea?”

“Hm, post sex tea? Yeah, sounds nice,” you said, kissing him on the cheek.

He nodded, shifting slowly and wincing as he slipped out of you. You both readjusted, stretching sore muscles as you moved to sit up properly in bed. He grimaced, peeling the spent condom off and tying it off to discard. You shivered, pouting at him.

“It’s cold.”

“It is,” he nodded, leaning over and kissing your head, “go use the bathroom, I’ll get a sweater for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “who taught you we needed to do that?” you joked.

“My ex-girlfriend,” he said, covering your mouth as you let out a dramatically offended gasp, “who I haven't spoken to in years.” He rolled his eyes at you, fighting back a smile, “you crazy, jealous girl. Go now.”

You laughed, sliding off the bed and padding towards his bathroom. You stretched your body as you went, relearning how to walk on shaky legs. You looked yourself over in the mirror, examining the marks beginning to form on your skin. Outlines of his teeth and lips blooming on your chest and collarbones. He had left your neck unscathed. Any regular shirt you wore would hide the evidence, you weren’t sure if you were grateful or disappointed.

After using the bathroom and cooling your face down with water, you made your way back out to him. He was standing at his desk, fixing his tape as he waited for the water to boil. You admired him for a moment, so beautiful in the low light. He had pulled on boxers, but was otherwise still naked. Pink lines were dragged over his shoulder blades. His hair was a mess, tufts sticking out in a hundred different directions. Your own little work of art. He lifted his leg, stepping on the edge of his desk chair to get a closer angle to his knee. He discarded the tape, ruined from sweat and pressed new strips around his joint. An absent smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he performed the mundane task. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle when he straightened up and rested your cheek against his back.

“Viktor,” you sighed his name, eyes closing as you pressed your face closer against his skin. Your throat tightened up, nose burning at a sudden flood of emotion, “Viktor…”

He muttered your name, hand coming up to rest over yours against his stomach. He turned in your arms gently, moving so he was leaning against his desk and you were leaning against him. You pressed your chin to his sternum, looking up at him as he smoothed a hand over your hair.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, hands sliding over your skin.

You let out a wet laugh, “That I like you… alot.” You blinked up at him, “and it scares me a little bit.”

“Does it help to know that I am also terrified?” he offered, everything in his eyes telling you it was the truth.

“A little,” you admitted, a shiver running through you.

“Here.” He stepped you away from the desk, grabbing a stack of clothes off of the chair and handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you said, pulling on the loaned sweatshirt and boxers. He made up the tea as you dressed, placing one of the mugs in your hands when they were free . You pulled it to your chest, shivering as the warm ceramic reminded you how cold you were.

You followed him back to the bed, sipping at the tea as he pulled the blankets back. He nodded for you to go first, letting you carefully crawl into bed, holding the mug upright as you settled criss-cross in the open spot. You reached out, taking his tea for him as he set the cane down and settled next to you.

You handed it back to him, sipping your own cup and slipping closer to him. Comfortable in the shared silence. Your body ached to be closer to him, every cell straining like magnets were pulling you in. You reached over him, setting the mug down and crawling into his lap. He laughed softly, opening his arms for you to lay against him. He took another sip of his tea before abandoning the mug, opting instead to lean back against his pillows, taking you with him. You were half on top of him, leg hooked over his hips, and head resting against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, hands sliding under your borrowed sweater to rest against your skin. You laid like this, ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you breathed in sync.

“Stay.” he said, breaking the silence.

“I am,” you muttered, on the edge of sleep.

“No, Milá, stay,” he said again. You tilted your head up to look at him, meeting his eyes. He cupped your face, thumb moving across the swell of your cheek, “Stay with me, don’t go home.”

You pushed yourself up, reaching for his face. He met you in a kiss, forehead leaving against yours when you parted to breath,

“I’ll stay,” you agreed, breath mixing with his, “I’ll stay.”

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