When everything is trying to explode in his head, desperate panic, and some pleading, except it's a well of words that are all tumbling, shooting, sparking unhelpfully. "What are you-?!" The arm around his waist, which won't pry up at his fingers, drags him back only hard, tighter, more flush to Victor. "Victor? Victor!" Who is not listening. Again. As a leg wraps around him, too, and Victor's face, he's pretty sure, is in his hair.
As a sudden blast of all too warm air hits his skin and makes it prickle everywhere, as Victor finally finds his mouth ... for something that is not any more help that any other part of him right now. When his own voice sounds a little too desperate in his ears, "You were supposed to be going to bed."
Before he decided to change it to this. Whatever this is. Whyever. He can't think straight about that. About anything. Because Victor is taller than him, stronger than him -- if he ever had a true question about it before this moment, it's gone. When he can't pry up that arm, or push down that leg, and he can't even quell the shock for relief at the fact his hand had found that Victor did still have clothing over the skin on leg.
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When everything is trying to explode in his head, desperate panic, and some pleading, except it's a well of words that are all tumbling, shooting, sparking unhelpfully. "What are you-?!" The arm around his waist, which won't pry up at his fingers, drags him back only hard, tighter, more flush to Victor. "Victor? Victor!" Who is not listening. Again. As a leg wraps around him, too, and Victor's face, he's pretty sure, is in his hair.
As a sudden blast of all too warm air hits his skin and makes it prickle everywhere, as Victor finally finds his mouth ... for something that is not any more help that any other part of him right now. When his own voice sounds a little too desperate in his ears, "You were supposed to be going to bed."
Before he decided to change it to this. Whatever this is. Whyever. He can't think straight about that. About anything. Because Victor is taller than him, stronger than him -- if he ever had a true question about it before this moment, it's gone. When he can't pry up that arm, or push down that leg, and he can't even quell the shock for relief at the fact his hand had found that Victor did still have clothing over the skin on leg.