And then Viktor was being kissed again, and any protest he could have come up with was swallowed away. Not that he really had one, words were just not possible right now, and thoughts were only barely so. Although there was a moment of clarity when Viktor felt buttons coming undone, and his tie loosened enough to pull his shirt open at the neck, that clarity came with a momentary panic: his throat was exposed, and he opened his eyes, trying to decode the man’s expression.
Surely he could see, right? Was there enough light in here? Could he tell? Did he even know what he was looking at?
But he only blinked a few times, brought his hands up to cup the sides of Viktor’s face, and kissed him again.
One of the scenes I drew from chapter 1 of But Monsters Are Always Hungry, Darling – a noir genre fic by the so very talented @orchids-and-fictional-cities
and my new obsession in life
wabi sabi 