Xander had been debating heading down to the tavern for dinner when Viktor extended his offer, so by the time he got ready and made it to his home, he was starving. Hence why he cleaned his plate — which hopefully made the other man feel good about his cooking, because it was clearly delicious.
He also might have been nervous and excited now that the conversation was shifting completely, and he took a hearty drink of his own wine just as Viktor spoke up.
"I will be honest," he began, fingers fiddling with the stem of his glass, "I was hoping you might say as much. Our brief time at the picnic has kept my mind... busy."
that was s'pose to say his jelly... Zoned out and mist a word
"... Is that so?" Viktor asks quietly, smiling to himself. For him, the picnic was an emotional roller coaster from start to finish, and though Xander was a highlight, it was hard to think back on their encounter without feeling embarrassed at himself. He's glad to hear that Xander still wanted him after, apparently even moreso, so clearly he hadn't messed up so significantly as to turn him off generally.
He tops up both of their glasses, then reaches for Xander's hand again, thumb stroking over his knuckles.
"Well... Why don't you sit on the couch while I clear our plates and clean up in the kitchen for a few minutes. Then I will join you. We can allow our food to settle and see where we go from there. The sweetbread can be a late-night snack," he finishes with a quirk of his lip.
This was there Xander simply nodded, the blaze of heat on his cheeks so intense it was starting to make him sweat. No need to tell Viktor how frequently he thought of that encounter when lying alone in his bedroom at the inn. Nope. Nah.
"No, let me help." He squeezed Viktor's hand insistently. "It will be quicker that way." He caught himself. Laughed nervously. "I must sound a bit too eager, don't I?"
Viktor observes the blush, the nervous eagerness, and suddenly doesn't feel so silly for his own awkwardness with romance, his overzealousness at the picnic. Xander is stumbling through this, too, and there is comfort in that.
There is also a teeny tiny bit of power in that. In being wanted like this. It feels good.
Viktor pushes himself up from the table, taking his crutch and moving as smoothly as possible to Xander where he sits. He puts a fingertip under his chin to tilt it upward. He slowly leans down to kiss him, incredibly soft and light, just the slightest taste of something.
"There is nothing wrong with eager." He intones it as a declaration, something to absolve them both. Then, he straightens and offers a hand to help Xander up.
It had been... a long time since he had been intimate with someone. His arrangement with Celene was purely for the sake of continuing the Riverwatcher name, and neither of them found true pleasure in it. The difference between them was that Celene had actually gone out and found her pleasure when she could — Xander had not. He was always too busy. So maybe he was a little rusty.
He looked up, obediently tipping his head back to look up at Viktor. And he accepted the kiss, humming against the other man's mouth, heat roiling in his belly.
Okay... maybe very rusty.
"That is good to know." He grasped his hand and stood, and for a split second, Viktor would feel the distinct tension in Xander's arm — like he was about to pull him closer and only just stopped himself. Not yet. Soon. They needed to get those dishes up. "Let me fetch my bag once we're done, and I will follow you anywhere."
Viktor feels that almost-pull, hears what sounds like a suggestion of the bedroom rather than the couch, and tilts his head appraisingly.
That heady tension seems to fill the house, pressing Viktor into a slightly nervous, anticipating silence as the two collect the dishes and clean up. He's hyper-aware of Xander's every movement. It feels like they are in a new world, one with just the two of them, one where anything could happen.
Whatever they're about to do, Viktor has never done it before, and he feels every small detail of this scene being burned into his memory as a first time. Everyone always talks about first times, so it must be important to remember, he figures.
So while from the outside, it may look like two men doing the dishes, something utterly mundane and domestic, to Viktor it feels more like a ritual before some kind of important ceremony.
He finishes his wine before they leave the kitchen. Once Xander collects his bag from the entryway, Viktor takes his hand and leads him down the wide hallway to his bedroom. It's a very simple room. A double bed, neatly made, a nightstand, a dresser and closet. An attached bathroom. The only decorations are various metal trinkets scattered around, either things that Viktor has constructed, or parts of machines.
"Skan is not here," he announces, for no particular reason at all. He does not announce that Skan helped him formulate this plan and purposely went out to leave them here alone.
He sits on the edge of his bed, leaning his crutch against the nightstand. The edge of the table looks slightly scuffed and worn from leaning the crutch there many times before. He places a hand on the spot next to him, and once Xander sits, will take his cane and lean it in the same spot.
His nerves are certainly back.
"Have you... Done this before? With... With a man?" Clearly, he'd had sex with his wife at least four times to have four children, unless they were adopted.
In that moment, Viktor could have asked him to climb onto the roof to have sex with him there, and he would have figured out a means to make it happen. Luckily, the other man seemed to take his hint that the bedroom might be more comfortable for this first time together. A closed door, a comfortable space, just the two of them.
Xander was nervous the entire time they cleaned up, and only managed to catch his breath and calm himself when he gathered his bag. He took a few seconds to appreciate the space that was Viktor's room, too, noting the worn spot for his cane, the trinkets, the scent of him that lingered in the air.
"Ah. I had wondered." And he had figured the Gryphon was gone on purpose, given how pointed the invitation had been. He would have to thank him later.
For now, he sat, and took Viktor's hand again. "I have, but it's... been a while." He admitted with a chuckle. "Have you?"
Oh, they could just take the elevator to the roof, easy. It's nice up there, too, but Viktor would never try something so daring for the first time. Maybe in the future...
"I have never done this with anyone. So, you may have to... Guide me a little."
He blushes, a little embarrassed to admit being a thirty-two year old virgin, but he knows Xander won't judge him, so he interlaces their fingers and leans toward him, looking into his brown eyes.
"I am nervous, but I am fully lucid this time, and I still want you very much."
"You seemed very confident earlier. I may not have ever guessed." He admitted, his smile warm and his gaze soft when he met Viktor's eyes. "I am glad to hear it, because I want you, too. Don't be afraid to speak up, if you don't like something we're doing — or if you do like it. Think of it like... an experiment? We are testing boundaries, comfort levels, what excites you, what doesn't. It is data we gather together, and only at the pace you want."
He turned and lifted his other hand to curl his fingers against the back of Viktor's neck, leaned in to kiss him only after he replied. No need to be rude.
"Well, I would hate to oversell my prowess." He may be confident at times with kissing, but anything further is a big intimidating question mark. If Xander assumed he was more experienced than he actually was, Viktor would be all the more nervous when something came up that he was uncertain of. Best to be on the same page.
"You are speaking my language," Viktor murmurs, his lips already crashing into Xander's. It would seem that words like experiments and data effectively get him going.
He wraps his arm around Xander's neck, kissing him deeply and placing his flesh hand on his partner's thigh, sliding inward and upward.
That's what he thought you'd say you big fuckin nerd.
Xander, not for the first time, wished he had the youthful energy of a man without a longstanding illness and terrible lung capacity, because all he wanted to do was shove Viktor over and climb on top of him. Instead, he had to slowly adjust — and while the intention was still to push him over onto the bed, he had to do so with far less enthusiasm, his arm sliding around Viktor's middle and pressing against his back, bracing when he pushed forward against him to try and ease him onto his back while they kissed, his tongue slipping between his lips and past Viktor's.
And perhaps it was no surprise that he was already growing hard — the mere idea of being with him intimately enough to make his hips jerk against the other man's palm.
Maybe it's a good thing he can't just shove him down, since Viktor is just as frail, and that kind of roughness might be too much. It doesn't mean there can't be urgency, though. Viktor wraps his arm tightly around Xander as the two sink back onto the bed, then blindly reaches for his knees to try to help him up on top of him. All the while, his mouth is falling open, his tongue meeting Xander's readily. Once his partner is settled into some sort of position that will work for him, Viktor returns his hand between his legs, palming his growing erection gently. Then those hips jerk forward, and he gets a much more firm handful of Xander. Oh! That must mean he can add more pressure, and so he does, rubbing up and down through his clothing, using his flesh hand for now, since it's softer.
With their combined efforts, it wasn't long before Xander was straddling one of Viktor's thighs, knee pressed firmly between them to gently urge the other man's arousal. He dropped himself to rest on his forearm, fingers winding into Viktor's hair, his other hand tracing down his side to gently tug at the bottom of his shirt.
His hand was trembling with excitement, anticipation, and the jolt of pleasure that came with the firm press of Viktor's hand against his crotch. He grew harder by the second, hips arched so he could grind himself into the pressing fingers. Xander moaned hotly into Viktor's mouth, then pulled back so he could kiss up along his jaw with feverish need.
His knee is- oh- oh. Viktor tilts his hips as much as he can with his back brace limiting his movement, attempting to grind into Xander's knee. His hands are doing amazing work already, and that moan, the kisses to his jaw... He is good at this, isn't he? Or perhaps he's just Xander, and Viktor is delighted that he's here in his bed with him at all, and he's never been touched like this before in his life, and it feels heavenly. His mouth freed, he lets a soft moan of his own escape it.
"Xander..." He sighs his name like there's no other word to express how he feels. His free hand moves to his partner's waistband, finding and undoing the buttons of his fly. He thanks his lucky stars for these hands, the one part of his body he can always count on to work well. His flesh hand reaches gently into his underwear, searching for purchase, grasping his shaft very gently.
"Is this...?" He's meaning to ask if it's alright, but he's a little breathless.
His hand slipped beneath Viktor's shirt, fabric riding higher as fingers spread across his stomach, sliding upward curiosity, like he was trying to map every inch of him with his fingertips.
His mouth trailed a line of heated kisses along Viktor's jaw, then up to his ear. The sound he let out there was breathless. "Good." His cock throbbed in his grip, and his voice shaking, "Don't stop." He knew, for how long it had been, he might not last long — but he willed himself to focus. He pressed his knee higher, encouraging him to grind down, while his teeth scraped Viktor's throat; careful, teasing — gauging his response.
Xander's fingers will find Viktor's skinny stomach, as well as his brace, covering most of his back and his ribcage. His breath hitches, feeling Xander's hands wander on the parts of his abdomen that are exposed. He wishes he could feel more, yearns for those years-untouched patches of skin to be caressed.
He's quickly distracted from his own desire as Xander's comes into sharp focus. He throbs in Viktor's hand, his hands shake, his voice trembles. Feeling such a put-together man come undone in his hands, when he's barely even tried yet to make him feel good, is unbelievably arousing. His own cock jerks in response, hardening fully against Xander's knee, which adds to the delicious pressure there.
Don't stop is a clear instruction, and thankfully, Viktor has done this part before. It's a different angle than masturbating, and there's no guarantee that Xander will like the exact same things he does, but the basics are muscle-memory. He grips more firmly and strokes the shaft, his wrist adding finesse to the movement.
His other hand undoes his upper shirt buttons, and he hums as Xander gives his neck and ears attention, leaning into the touch. His hand threads into his partner's thick, dark hair and presses gently against the back of Xander's head, encouraging more.
There was space enough to touch, brace or not, and it was almost like a game to find those warm patches of skin so he could focus on them. Xander took advantage of the opened shirt and the insistent press of Viktor's hands in his hair, and latched onto a small patch of pale skin right where shoulder and neck connected. He suckled the flesh between his teeth, teased with his tongue — just hard enough for a pleasant little sting.
All the while his hips rocked into the strokes; every muffled moan he exhaled and the fervent grinding against his palm surely suggested that he approved of Viktor's methods. The doctor finally pulled his own hand down, tracing the path he had taken over his torso to start undoing whatever he needed to get Viktor's cock free from his trousers.
With a wet little pop of his lips, he pulled back to look down at the other man, cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy, lips parted as he panted. "You're incredible, Viktor." In case he dared to think otherwise.
Viktor hums a moan in the back of his throat as Xander gives him a strange new sensation on his neck, teeth and tongue and pressure and wet warmth, pain and pleasure at once. An interesting data point to reflect on later.
He increases the speed of his hand, tightens his grip on him just a little. Perhaps Xander had wanted to have sex tonight and this will impede his ability to do that, but Viktor doesn't think twice about it. He wants to see Xander fall apart. See the dark blush of his cheeks, the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, the way one little curl falls down in his face, and hear the gorgeous sounds he makes. Viktor meets his eyes, his own lidded, his lips parted, and wonders what it feels like to fall in love. He wonders if it feels anything like this, looking up into shining dark eyes.
He slows his hand, kisses Xander firmly.
"And you are beautiful." So long as they're stating facts, here.
"Tell me how to make you feel... Spectacular." He almost says how to improve, then realizes it's not his own performance he cares about, for once. It's Xander's experience.
It was clear from the hazy, almost distant look in his eyes, that Xander was already struggling not to spill into Viktor's hand and across his stomach. The way he touched him was amazing, electric, and overwhelming. He kissed him again, then angled to press their foreheads together, caring little for the slick sweat on his brow or the heat between them that stifled the air.
"I already feel spectacular." He murmured. "But... if you keep touching me like that, I worry I will be done too soon. We need to — Father preserve me. We need to get the rest of our clothes off."
Viktor combs his fingers into Xander's hair, pushing it back from his face as he gazes at him adoringly.
"Oh. Yes." Undressing, right. Not ever at the top of Viktor's list of things to do, but here and now, he does want to, if only to feel more of Xander on his skin.
"Allow me." Viktor gently releases Xander's cock and uses both hands to unbutton his shirt as he hovers there, then undoes all of his own buttons. He slides his hands over Xander's shoulders to shrug him out of the shirt some, and then his hands wander down his abdomen, caressing him until they reach his waistband, which he also tugs down.
There was an audible gasp when the pressure against his cock released, and it took every ounce of his strength not to whine at the loss. He took a breath, then leaned back to give Viktor enough room to work, his shirt soon opening up to reveal the skin underneath.
He had been well covered during the beach and picnic outings, but now he had little choice — especially when he was the one that suggested it. His torso was littered with scars; the obvious surgical ones, pale but still slightly raised — one along the center of his stomach, up to his sternum, and another under his pecs. On top of those were a myriad of smaller scars that looked like bites and scratches from a small creature... or several small creatures at once. And the last, perhaps most prominent, was the large claw mark on his shoulder, deep and jagged, like the original gash had gone down to the bone.
He let the fabric drop, tossed it aside and rose up to shimmy out of his pants and underthings. Left entirely bare now while he took the moment to help Viktor out of the rest of his clothes. "I brought lubricant, just in case..." he murmured.
As Xander gets up, Viktor pushes himself to sitting to remove his leg brace- it comes off quickly with deft fingers that have done it a thousand times before. He then shrugs out of his own shirt and takes the help with pulling off his pants and underclothes.
Now sitting up on the edge of the bed, he places hands on Xander's waist, caressing him, taking him in. Viktor isn't put off by scars at all. Many of his own surgical scars would be visible on his torso if it were not covered up by his brace, and on his leg if it had not been transformed from flesh to the strange purple metal his right hand is also made of. He thinks Xander's body is as beautiful as the rest of him, though it speaks to how much the man has been through, which does make Viktor sad for him.
He leans forward to softly kiss his stomach, right above his belly button, on that surgical scar.
The mention of lubricant makes Viktor nervous again, as it seems to imply sex, as does the fact that they're naked... But he doesn't know for sure, and would like to have some sense of certainty.
"You'd like to... Have sex? Yes?" He looks up from where he sits.
Xander was the last person to judge another on their appearance, and given how fond he was of Viktor, it was not much of a surprise that he, in turn, found him just as beautiful. So many others would have given up where Viktor had not, and it was an admirable trait to have.
He shivered with the kiss and gently set a hand atop Viktor's head; fingers stroking through his hair. A brief look of confusion crossed over his features. Was... was that not obvious?
"I would." He admitted. "If you would like to have sex, too." Which, again, he thought had been obvious, but perhaps he needed to be blunt to truly get the point across so there was no confusion. "I am open to any position — but I will admit, I think it best we lay on our sides and try to keep from overexerting ourselves, one way or another." He bent down with a grunt to grab the small vial he had brought. "We will need to prep whoever is being penetrated. If you have a preference, do let me know." If not, uh. He had one currently. But Xander was open to anything.
Viktor just wants to know more of the... Specifics of the situation, what to expect, which Xander graciously provides.
He nods. "Yes." He is nervous, apprehensive of the act itself, but he has a deep desire to get closer to Xander on a physical level. Sex is... The most obvious way of doing that.
Who is being penetrated... He had wondered about that. He tries to think about whether he has a preference.
"I don't think I do," he admits innocently. "Though you may have more range of motion for the, ah... The thrusting." And being the one with more experience, it would make sense that Xander is the one... Initiating? Guiding? The act.
His eyes fall to the vial in Xander's hands. "How do we prepare?"
Xander internally struggled with the desire to make this as fun and pleasurable as possible, and breaking it all down clinically. For two nerds like them, maybe the latter would be considered fun and pleasurable.
"If you are all right with it, you will hear no complaints from me." In fact, his cock twitched at the suggestion, still painfully hard and seeping precum from the tip — but he could ignore that, for now.
"Well. We will need to assure you are relaxed enough to take me. I will lather my fingers in this oil," he motions to the vial, "and put them inside you so you can get used to the insertion of something... larger." He cleared his throat. "Is that all right?"
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He also might have been nervous and excited now that the conversation was shifting completely, and he took a hearty drink of his own wine just as Viktor spoke up.
"I will be honest," he began, fingers fiddling with the stem of his glass, "I was hoping you might say as much. Our brief time at the picnic has kept my mind... busy."
that was s'pose to say his jelly... Zoned out and mist a word
He tops up both of their glasses, then reaches for Xander's hand again, thumb stroking over his knuckles.
"Well... Why don't you sit on the couch while I clear our plates and clean up in the kitchen for a few minutes. Then I will join you. We can allow our food to settle and see where we go from there. The sweetbread can be a late-night snack," he finishes with a quirk of his lip.
My brain filled in the blank its ok
"No, let me help." He squeezed Viktor's hand insistently. "It will be quicker that way." He caught himself. Laughed nervously. "I must sound a bit too eager, don't I?"
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There is also a teeny tiny bit of power in that. In being wanted like this. It feels good.
Viktor pushes himself up from the table, taking his crutch and moving as smoothly as possible to Xander where he sits. He puts a fingertip under his chin to tilt it upward. He slowly leans down to kiss him, incredibly soft and light, just the slightest taste of something.
"There is nothing wrong with eager." He intones it as a declaration, something to absolve them both. Then, he straightens and offers a hand to help Xander up.
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He looked up, obediently tipping his head back to look up at Viktor. And he accepted the kiss, humming against the other man's mouth, heat roiling in his belly.
Okay... maybe very rusty.
"That is good to know." He grasped his hand and stood, and for a split second, Viktor would feel the distinct tension in Xander's arm — like he was about to pull him closer and only just stopped himself. Not yet. Soon. They needed to get those dishes up. "Let me fetch my bag once we're done, and I will follow you anywhere."
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That heady tension seems to fill the house, pressing Viktor into a slightly nervous, anticipating silence as the two collect the dishes and clean up. He's hyper-aware of Xander's every movement. It feels like they are in a new world, one with just the two of them, one where anything could happen.
Whatever they're about to do, Viktor has never done it before, and he feels every small detail of this scene being burned into his memory as a first time. Everyone always talks about first times, so it must be important to remember, he figures.
So while from the outside, it may look like two men doing the dishes, something utterly mundane and domestic, to Viktor it feels more like a ritual before some kind of important ceremony.
He finishes his wine before they leave the kitchen. Once Xander collects his bag from the entryway, Viktor takes his hand and leads him down the wide hallway to his bedroom. It's a very simple room. A double bed, neatly made, a nightstand, a dresser and closet. An attached bathroom. The only decorations are various metal trinkets scattered around, either things that Viktor has constructed, or parts of machines.
"Skan is not here," he announces, for no particular reason at all. He does not announce that Skan helped him formulate this plan and purposely went out to leave them here alone.
He sits on the edge of his bed, leaning his crutch against the nightstand. The edge of the table looks slightly scuffed and worn from leaning the crutch there many times before. He places a hand on the spot next to him, and once Xander sits, will take his cane and lean it in the same spot.
His nerves are certainly back.
"Have you... Done this before? With... With a man?" Clearly, he'd had sex with his wife at least four times to have four children, unless they were adopted.
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Xander was nervous the entire time they cleaned up, and only managed to catch his breath and calm himself when he gathered his bag. He took a few seconds to appreciate the space that was Viktor's room, too, noting the worn spot for his cane, the trinkets, the scent of him that lingered in the air.
"Ah. I had wondered." And he had figured the Gryphon was gone on purpose, given how pointed the invitation had been. He would have to thank him later.
For now, he sat, and took Viktor's hand again. "I have, but it's... been a while." He admitted with a chuckle. "Have you?"
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"I have never done this with anyone. So, you may have to... Guide me a little."
He blushes, a little embarrassed to admit being a thirty-two year old virgin, but he knows Xander won't judge him, so he interlaces their fingers and leans toward him, looking into his brown eyes.
"I am nervous, but I am fully lucid this time, and I still want you very much."
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He turned and lifted his other hand to curl his fingers against the back of Viktor's neck, leaned in to kiss him only after he replied. No need to be rude.
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"You are speaking my language," Viktor murmurs, his lips already crashing into Xander's. It would seem that words like experiments and data effectively get him going.
He wraps his arm around Xander's neck, kissing him deeply and placing his flesh hand on his partner's thigh, sliding inward and upward.
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Xander, not for the first time, wished he had the youthful energy of a man without a longstanding illness and terrible lung capacity, because all he wanted to do was shove Viktor over and climb on top of him. Instead, he had to slowly adjust — and while the intention was still to push him over onto the bed, he had to do so with far less enthusiasm, his arm sliding around Viktor's middle and pressing against his back, bracing when he pushed forward against him to try and ease him onto his back while they kissed, his tongue slipping between his lips and past Viktor's.
And perhaps it was no surprise that he was already growing hard — the mere idea of being with him intimately enough to make his hips jerk against the other man's palm.
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His hand was trembling with excitement, anticipation, and the jolt of pleasure that came with the firm press of Viktor's hand against his crotch. He grew harder by the second, hips arched so he could grind himself into the pressing fingers. Xander moaned hotly into Viktor's mouth, then pulled back so he could kiss up along his jaw with feverish need.
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"Xander..." He sighs his name like there's no other word to express how he feels. His free hand moves to his partner's waistband, finding and undoing the buttons of his fly. He thanks his lucky stars for these hands, the one part of his body he can always count on to work well. His flesh hand reaches gently into his underwear, searching for purchase, grasping his shaft very gently.
"Is this...?" He's meaning to ask if it's alright, but he's a little breathless.
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His mouth trailed a line of heated kisses along Viktor's jaw, then up to his ear. The sound he let out there was breathless. "Good." His cock throbbed in his grip, and his voice shaking, "Don't stop." He knew, for how long it had been, he might not last long — but he willed himself to focus. He pressed his knee higher, encouraging him to grind down, while his teeth scraped Viktor's throat; careful, teasing — gauging his response.
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He's quickly distracted from his own desire as Xander's comes into sharp focus. He throbs in Viktor's hand, his hands shake, his voice trembles. Feeling such a put-together man come undone in his hands, when he's barely even tried yet to make him feel good, is unbelievably arousing. His own cock jerks in response, hardening fully against Xander's knee, which adds to the delicious pressure there.
Don't stop is a clear instruction, and thankfully, Viktor has done this part before. It's a different angle than masturbating, and there's no guarantee that Xander will like the exact same things he does, but the basics are muscle-memory. He grips more firmly and strokes the shaft, his wrist adding finesse to the movement.
His other hand undoes his upper shirt buttons, and he hums as Xander gives his neck and ears attention, leaning into the touch. His hand threads into his partner's thick, dark hair and presses gently against the back of Xander's head, encouraging more.
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All the while his hips rocked into the strokes; every muffled moan he exhaled and the fervent grinding against his palm surely suggested that he approved of Viktor's methods. The doctor finally pulled his own hand down, tracing the path he had taken over his torso to start undoing whatever he needed to get Viktor's cock free from his trousers.
With a wet little pop of his lips, he pulled back to look down at the other man, cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy, lips parted as he panted. "You're incredible, Viktor." In case he dared to think otherwise.
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He increases the speed of his hand, tightens his grip on him just a little. Perhaps Xander had wanted to have sex tonight and this will impede his ability to do that, but Viktor doesn't think twice about it. He wants to see Xander fall apart. See the dark blush of his cheeks, the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, the way one little curl falls down in his face, and hear the gorgeous sounds he makes. Viktor meets his eyes, his own lidded, his lips parted, and wonders what it feels like to fall in love. He wonders if it feels anything like this, looking up into shining dark eyes.
He slows his hand, kisses Xander firmly.
"And you are beautiful." So long as they're stating facts, here.
"Tell me how to make you feel... Spectacular." He almost says how to improve, then realizes it's not his own performance he cares about, for once. It's Xander's experience.
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"I already feel spectacular." He murmured. "But... if you keep touching me like that, I worry I will be done too soon. We need to — Father preserve me. We need to get the rest of our clothes off."
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"Oh. Yes." Undressing, right. Not ever at the top of Viktor's list of things to do, but here and now, he does want to, if only to feel more of Xander on his skin.
"Allow me." Viktor gently releases Xander's cock and uses both hands to unbutton his shirt as he hovers there, then undoes all of his own buttons. He slides his hands over Xander's shoulders to shrug him out of the shirt some, and then his hands wander down his abdomen, caressing him until they reach his waistband, which he also tugs down.
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He had been well covered during the beach and picnic outings, but now he had little choice — especially when he was the one that suggested it. His torso was littered with scars; the obvious surgical ones, pale but still slightly raised — one along the center of his stomach, up to his sternum, and another under his pecs. On top of those were a myriad of smaller scars that looked like bites and scratches from a small creature... or several small creatures at once. And the last, perhaps most prominent, was the large claw mark on his shoulder, deep and jagged, like the original gash had gone down to the bone.
He let the fabric drop, tossed it aside and rose up to shimmy out of his pants and underthings. Left entirely bare now while he took the moment to help Viktor out of the rest of his clothes. "I brought lubricant, just in case..." he murmured.
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Now sitting up on the edge of the bed, he places hands on Xander's waist, caressing him, taking him in. Viktor isn't put off by scars at all. Many of his own surgical scars would be visible on his torso if it were not covered up by his brace, and on his leg if it had not been transformed from flesh to the strange purple metal his right hand is also made of. He thinks Xander's body is as beautiful as the rest of him, though it speaks to how much the man has been through, which does make Viktor sad for him.
He leans forward to softly kiss his stomach, right above his belly button, on that surgical scar.
The mention of lubricant makes Viktor nervous again, as it seems to imply sex, as does the fact that they're naked... But he doesn't know for sure, and would like to have some sense of certainty.
"You'd like to... Have sex? Yes?" He looks up from where he sits.
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He shivered with the kiss and gently set a hand atop Viktor's head; fingers stroking through his hair. A brief look of confusion crossed over his features. Was... was that not obvious?
"I would." He admitted. "If you would like to have sex, too." Which, again, he thought had been obvious, but perhaps he needed to be blunt to truly get the point across so there was no confusion. "I am open to any position — but I will admit, I think it best we lay on our sides and try to keep from overexerting ourselves, one way or another." He bent down with a grunt to grab the small vial he had brought. "We will need to prep whoever is being penetrated. If you have a preference, do let me know." If not, uh. He had one currently. But Xander was open to anything.
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He nods. "Yes." He is nervous, apprehensive of the act itself, but he has a deep desire to get closer to Xander on a physical level. Sex is... The most obvious way of doing that.
Who is being penetrated... He had wondered about that. He tries to think about whether he has a preference.
"I don't think I do," he admits innocently. "Though you may have more range of motion for the, ah... The thrusting." And being the one with more experience, it would make sense that Xander is the one... Initiating? Guiding? The act.
His eyes fall to the vial in Xander's hands. "How do we prepare?"
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"If you are all right with it, you will hear no complaints from me." In fact, his cock twitched at the suggestion, still painfully hard and seeping precum from the tip — but he could ignore that, for now.
"Well. We will need to assure you are relaxed enough to take me. I will lather my fingers in this oil," he motions to the vial, "and put them inside you so you can get used to the insertion of something... larger." He cleared his throat. "Is that all right?"
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