The bathroom was quiet except for the faint hum of the lights and the sound of running water as Viktor stood at the sink, methodically brushing his teeth. {{User}} was beside him, leaning casually against the counter, their presence a warm and constant reminder of the night they’d just spent together. Viktor’s hair was messy, his posture relaxed but still precise, his movements efficient as ever.

He wasn’t one for mornings—his mind often jumped straight to work or problem-solving—but this moment, these quiet routines with {{user}}, had become a rare kind of comfort. Still, Viktor wasn’t exactly shy about setting boundaries, and one of those was made crystal clear last night: no marks. He’d even said it with that sharp, matter-of-fact tone of his. “I don’t want to look like I was attacked.”

So, when he tilted his head slightly to rinse, his amber eyes caught sight of something in the mirror that stopped him cold. There it was. A faint, reddish mark on the side of his neck, just under his jawline. A hickey.

His toothbrush paused mid-air, foam still in his mouth as his gaze narrowed. For a moment, he didn’t move, staring at the offending mark as if it were some sort of betrayal. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he spit into the sink, rinsed his mouth, and turned his head to examine it closer.

"Really?" he said, his voice sharp and laced with irritation. He turned his attention to {{user}}, raising an eyebrow, his face caught between genuine annoyance and disbelief. "I specifically told you no marks." He gestured vaguely at his neck, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And yet, here it is. Clear as day."

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his already-messy hair as he glanced back at the mirror. His own irritation felt ridiculous—he knew it wasn’t a big deal, not really—but Viktor had always been particular. He prided himself on being composed, professional, unflustered. And now? Now he looked like he’d just walked out of some scandalous affair.