[ —it hits him. a few seconds into tension he feels beneath his fingers and the broken focus after lining a buckle with a hole that he has just . . . so easily touched viktor. the charge in his palms tickles him, engulfs and invites him through an electrifying pulse that he could only feel.
gently, he realizes— especially post apology, that he has not directly asked. has he? the brace was one thing, perhaps touching him was another. he had not thought it would matter until after the fact.
after he felt it, too. he must finish, but now his hands hover. ]
Oh, I'm— No, I'm sorry, I— [ he swallows, he bows his head. he returns his gaze both embarrassed and worried. ] Can I . . . Continue?
[ there it is. maybe he should've been a little more direct about being too . . . intimate, but better this tardy than never at all. ]
no subject
gently, he realizes— especially post apology, that he has not directly asked. has he? the brace was one thing, perhaps touching him was another. he had not thought it would matter until after the fact.
after he felt it, too. he must finish, but now his hands hover. ]
Oh, I'm— No, I'm sorry, I— [ he swallows, he bows his head. he returns his gaze both embarrassed and worried. ] Can I . . . Continue?
[ there it is. maybe he should've been a little more direct about being too . . . intimate, but better this tardy than never at all. ]