Viktor and reader learning how to kiss together I 🥺🥺🥺
“I don’t know! What if they want to kiss me?” you whine.
Pacing restlessly back and forth in your best friend’s small dorm, you’re having a crisis. Days prior, you’d been asked out on a date by one of your classmates - a nice person, really. Smart, easy on the eyes, kind and courteous. There really wasn’t any reason you should have wanted to say no.
Aside from the fact that you’ve been in love with someone else for over a year.
You’d been scared, though. If you’d so much as suggested that you had feelings for someone, everyone would know exactly who you were talking about: Viktor, the only person you ever really hung around with.
“You’re the one who said yes to a date,” the man in question sighs, not bothering to look up from his textbook. “Surely you knew that kissing was a possibility?”
You pause mid-step, and turn to him.
“Vik, if you could take this seriously, please? I’m about to have a panic attack.”
He sighs deeply, and lolls his head up to fix you with an unamused stare. “If you didn’t want to go out with them, why did you say yes?”
His question makes you want to rip your hair out with frustration. Because I can’t tell them that I like you! you want to say, even though doing such would completely defeat the point.
“I don’t know,” you groan, plopping down on the bed beside him. “There wasn’t any viable reason for me to say no!”
Viktor’s face pinches slightly, drawing into a somewhat-concerned frown. “You know that you’re allowed to decline offers simply because you’re not interested, right?”
You flop backwards, grabbing a pillow to shove into your face.
“I’m serious,” he repeats, trying in vain to remove the plush object from your grasp. “There doesn’t have to be a reason you’re not interested in someone. No is a complete sentence.”
He finally succeeds in wrestling the pillow away from you, tossing it to the other side of the bed. But what gives him pause is the way your lips squish into a pout - the way you avoid looking at him with your pretty, tear-filled eyes.
“I thought I might be able to feel something for them,” you sniffle, trying to blink away the wetness gathering behind your lashes. “I thought that maybe I could get to know them, and then I could fall in love. I’m supposed to be excited about this kind of thing! But instead I’m just!”
Viktor watches you carefully for a couple seconds, before slowly lowering himself down on the mattress beside you, rolling over onto his side to face you.
“Which part of it scares you?” he wonders, with a considerably softer tone. “Is it the dating itself? The uncertainty? The pressure? The physical acts?”
You sniffle again, turning your head to look at him.
“All of it,” you admit. “All of it scares me, because of who it might be with. I don’t…I’ve never done this kind of thing - any of it. And I…don’t want it with them. There’s only one person I trust to take care of me with that sort of stuff, and…”
You stare at him for several long seconds, before breaking away to gaze at the ceiling.
“...never mind. It’s kind of stupid, anyways. I should just tell them that I changed my mind.”
You move to push yourself up, so you can collect the few things you’d brought with you and leave. Of course Viktor wouldn’t want to talk about your relationship woes - he’d never shown you to have any kind of interest in anyone. You doubt he even knows how to help.
But to your surprise, right before you rise off the bed, he catches your arm a little too tightly.
“It’s not stupid,” he says, before you can ask him what he’s doing. “Just because you don’t feel the way you think you should, doesn’t mean it’s…stupid.”
His grip on you loosens by a fraction.
“I’m…kind of the same way. I’m not interested in anyone until I know them already, but getting to know people is…” he sighs sharply in frustration, “it’s weird. Certain things are expected to happen, and-”
“And we have no idea what we’re doing,” you cut him off.
The two of you stare slack-jawed at each other for several moments, before breaking into a fit of airy giggles.
“Gods above,” you mumble. “I wish we could just get it over with! There’s too much pressure on first kisses, and that makes it scary.”
And then, his fingers tentatively seeking out your own, wrapping around your hand and drawing little patterns on your palm.
“We could practice with each other. We’re friends already, so it’s not like it’s some stranger who might take it the wrong way.”
Heat rises to your face as his words sink in.
How terribly you want to say yes, to scoop him up in a tender embrace and kiss the breath out of him. How you want to hear his desperate little noises, and feel how soft and pliant his lips are.
“Are you sure?” you ask. “Because you need to be sure. I don’t want to do something that you don’t want-”
“I want it,” he interrupts, his face immediately lighting up with a rosy hue. “I mean- I’m sure-”
Mostly to save him from the embarrassment of trying to explain his choice of words.
But also because you’ve been waiting forever to do so.
He’s tense at first, unmoving and quiet, his hands hovering over you as if he doesn’t quite know where to put them - where you want him to put them. You don’t really know what you’re doing either, but you know that you want him to touch you, to feel his warmth sink into your skin.
You pull away from him to give him some direction, but much to your surprise, he chases after you. Enticing you into another kiss, finally moving his lips against your own. He’s obviously unpracticed at such a thing, though you can hardly fault him for it - you are too.
And if you’re being honest, it’s incredibly charming how he only seems to gain enthusiasm the longer you spend at it. Even when your teeth accidentally knock together, it only garners a breathless chuckle.
You don’t know how long you spend locked in your awkward little dance, hands wandering and squeezing and kneading at each other, but when you finally find the need to part you’re both breathing heavy. Fallen sideways on the bed so you could press into each other more.
He sets his forehead on yours, bringing his hands up to gently encircle your face.
“Don’t go on that date,” he nearly pleads, honey brown eyes staring straight into yours. “I don’t think I could take it if I saw you with someone else.”
