[The bit certainly provides; there are half a dozen other data-collection innuendos to be made here alone, each one more unbearable than the last. Palamedes will keep them in mind for later, when he's able to properly focus on things other than Viktor's mouth on his, tender heat and faintly electric. The romance novels weren't lying about kissing, he decides— he's a huge fan.

It takes a monumental amount of self control to sit back a fraction and not follow him into a third kiss, and maybe a fourth, and— he's focused. He's got it. He laughs quietly, made all the more airy and light by Viktor kissing his hand like a real, proper romance novel gentleman. Ah. He sits back properly with some earnest difficulty, lingering a moment to tug Viktor's shirt collar as he draws back his hand. Hm; conversation, yes.]

I was asking you what you did today, I think, [he says and then looks thoughtful, deeply weighing the pros and cons of going home vs. eating the meal Viktor made and then going home, ahem. Salient point about the comparative privacy of home, indeed-] I don't want to waste your effort, here...

[Should he eat another potato. He makes a show of picking one up and taking a bite; see, he's capable of thinking of things other than Viktor and kissing and kissing Viktor, but only just.]

Do you want to go home? You're my only plan for the rest of the day.