Page 27 of Rivals

Viktor, smug as ever, pressed his forehead to Nick’s, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Their breaths mingled in the small space between them, heartbeats still syncing back to normal.

Nick exhaled, stepping back and fumbling with his buttons. His fingers weren’t cooperating.

Viktor chuckled and batted his hands away. “Let me.”

Nick raised an eyebrow but didn’t fight it. “Since when are you a fashion expert?”

Viktor straightened his collar, smoothing down the fabric with absurd precision. “Someone has to be.”

Nick snorted but let him fuss, enjoying the rare moment of Viktor being borderline domestic. His hands, usually rough and impatient, were surprisingly careful as they lingered—a little longer than necessary—tracing over the same skin he’d gripped so fiercely just minutes ago.

He stepped back, scanning Nick with a slow, assessing gaze. “There. Almost presentable.”

Nick hummed, reaching out to tug Viktor’s shirt back into place. His fingers brushed warm skin, lingering just for the sake of it. “And you look almost civilized.”

Viktor arched an eyebrow. “Almost?”

Nick grinned, stepping closer until their bodies nearly touched again. “You still have that wild look in your eyes.”

Viktor’s hands slid around his waist, pulling him in for a quick kiss. It was sweet, but there was promise behind it, a warning that this wasn’t the end. “And whose fault is that?” Viktor murmured against his lips.

Nick laughed, tension melting away completely. “For once, I’ll take full responsibility.”

Viktor hummed in agreement, nipping at Nick’s lower lip before pulling back with obvious reluctance. “We should probably get out of here before someone catches us.”

“Right,” Nick agreed, though neither of them moved. Their eyes met, heat fading into something quieter, something steady.

Viktor tilted his head. “Later tonight?”

Nick swallowed, his heart doing a stupid little flip at how soft Viktor’s voice was, at the weight behind such a simple question. “Definitely.”

They stepped out of the copy room side by side, shoulders brushing, hands almost touching. The office was still the same—fluorescent lighting, the hum of printers, the quiet murmur of coworkers who thankfully hadn’t noticed their absence—but Nick felt different. Lighter.

They exchanged one last glance filled with promise before they started walking back toward their desks—

Oh, shit.

Nick froze, realization slamming into him like a brick to the face. He spun on his heel and bolted back inside the supply room.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

As he wiped furiously at the copier glass, his mind flashed with horrifying scenarios. Some poor, unsuspecting intern walking in, setting down a stack of reports, and seeing—Jesus christ. It was one thing to prank-copy your ass. It was another thing entirely to leavethismess behind.

Behind him, Viktor leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the frantic cleanup with zero intention of helping. “I cannot believe you almost left a crime scene in there,” he mused, sounding way too delighted by Nick’s panic.

Nick glared at him, still scrubbing. “Shut up.”

Viktor shrugged, smirking. “I mean, I get it. You were a little distracted.”

Nick groaned, tossing the very unfortunate piece of printer paper into the trash. He hoped no one looked at it too closely. After one last frantic wipe-down, he exhaled. “Okay.Nowwe can go.”

Viktor’s smirk widened, but he said nothing, just holding the door open for Nick as they finally walked out.