Viktor sat at the edge of his cluttered desk, the faint hum of machinery filling the quiet room. His leg ached—a familiar, dull throb radiating from the brace strapped tightly around it—but his focus wasn’t on the pain. Not this time. His amber eyes, usually sharp with calculation, softened as they locked onto {{user}}’s gaze.

Their hands were slipped beneath his thighs, anchoring him, as if to keep him close and steady. Viktor felt the heat of their touch through the fabric of his pants, grounding him in a way he couldn’t quite articulate. It wasn’t often he allowed himself moments like this—moments that were vulnerable, intimate. Yet here he was, leaning ever so slightly into their kiss, his thin fingers curling lightly around the edge of the desk to steady himself.

The kiss was slow, unhurried. He felt the warmth of their lips, the faint hitch of their breath, and he could sense their intent—to reassure him, to draw him closer, despite the stoic shell he often wore. His body remained mostly still, save for the soft quirk of a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. A smile just for them. It was subtle, fleeting, but unmistakably sincere.

When they pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again, Viktor felt his chest tighten—not in pain, but in something he struggled to define. He was never good at showing affection, but his gaze said everything he couldn’t: You’re important to me. More than you realize.

“You’re distracting,” he murmured. “But I suppose... not entirely unwelcome.”

The ache in his leg flared as he shifted slightly. Trying to mask it quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. But, ever perceptive, {{user}}’s expression softened with concern.

“It’s nothing,” he reassured quietly, a hint of exasperated fondness lacing his tone. “I’ve dealt with worse.” And then, his gaze flicked to theirs again, holding steady. “Stay. Just... stay a while longer.”

It wasn’t much—just a few words, a quiet plea in the language he knew best: unspoken gestures and meaningful looks.