Victor leaned into the kiss, and after a moment spent with nothing more than pleasant buzzing in his brain he remembered what they'd been about before he'd launched into this conversation. He reached down to unbutton Fisk's trousers, then snaked one hand inside while the other moved to rest wrapped around the back of his waist. Since he fortunately hadn't completely killed the mood by striking out with a question Leonid wasn't ready for, they could fall into a by now familiar pattern; they'd done this often enough in the past few months that there was a rhythm to it by now. On the other hand, Victor realized with a small internal thrill, it didn't necessarily have to be. The two of them had never had access to a bed before — though if they followed through on the plans they'd just made, this would only be the first time, not the last.

"Do you want to —?" he'd started before taking time to think it through. It caught up with him then that after having just derailed their progress once for a potentially relationship-changing Big Conversation, he was about to do it again less than a minute later. He mentally kicked himself — he ought to have just shut up and let things take their course, one way or another. Why did they have to talk about it? He was drunk, and apparently that meant he was also stupid.

"Nevermind," he mumbled, turning his attention to Fisk's neck to kiss him there. He moved his hand more purposefully between Fisk's legs, to serve as a distraction of sorts. "I'm having a great birthday."

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