Gods, you really are friends with teenagers. [viktor snorts, amused despite himself. he gets another kiss to his temple.] I will refrain somehow, for your sake. A united front of our house.

[and he's still getting a stupid little thrill out of that. absolutely, alarmingly saccharine. disgustingly so. he runs his fingers over pal's jaw like he's memorizing it, quiet between them as he says,] You'll have to let go if you still want me to make your mug cake. Celebratory, as it turns out.

[hm... he huddles closer.] But maybe not yet.