It's always been pleasant, to exist in each other's spaces, focused on separate activities, but he can't deny that it's nice to be looked at. Once, Jayce's undivided attention might have been overwhelming, like orbiting too close to the sun, but now Viktor relishes it, knowing how special it is and knowing it's only for him. He's not one to preen, but he certainly seems pleased, even facing away from him and working on breakfast.
Which is, at this moment, proceeding. Viktor cuts two generous slices of bread from the loaf, butters both sides and places them in a hot pan to toast. He starts cracking eggs into a bowl, making the executive decision to scramble them. Some kind of egg-on-toast situation seems filling enough and light enough for their purposes. Quick and easy preparation to, if Jayce doesn't want to be kept waiting.
As expedient as he's being, however, he's not going to rush the conversation. They haven't been avoiding any of it, per se--they've just both been so occupied that they haven't had a moment to talk about the cure or what it means for them going forward. Viktor's barely had time to think about it, himself.
Another universe, another timeline. "Yes, sometimes I forget that you're some other Viktor's version of Jayce."
That's kind of a joke, maybe, given that the discrepancy is so small. But if they want to get extremely technical, even those few days that Jayce has and he doesn't means they're theoretically from separate universes, even if the differences are minute. No matter how else he feels about the situation, he can be thankful that this place has afforded them what would otherwise be impossible, back home.
"I've been thinking about that. What I want to do." A lifetime. Barring any additional illnesses he might develop at a later unknown time, Viktor has that now. He's still deciding, but maybe that's why Jayce is looping back around to this conversation. "New projects. Big ones. The Academy must understand how valuable we are by now. It's in their best interest to allow us full access to their resources."
The fact that Jayce might have been not-so-subtly referring to a lifetime outside of work--their future--doesn't seem to have crossed Viktor's mind.
no subject
Which is, at this moment, proceeding. Viktor cuts two generous slices of bread from the loaf, butters both sides and places them in a hot pan to toast. He starts cracking eggs into a bowl, making the executive decision to scramble them. Some kind of egg-on-toast situation seems filling enough and light enough for their purposes. Quick and easy preparation to, if Jayce doesn't want to be kept waiting.
As expedient as he's being, however, he's not going to rush the conversation. They haven't been avoiding any of it, per se--they've just both been so occupied that they haven't had a moment to talk about the cure or what it means for them going forward. Viktor's barely had time to think about it, himself.
Another universe, another timeline. "Yes, sometimes I forget that you're some other Viktor's version of Jayce."
That's kind of a joke, maybe, given that the discrepancy is so small. But if they want to get extremely technical, even those few days that Jayce has and he doesn't means they're theoretically from separate universes, even if the differences are minute. No matter how else he feels about the situation, he can be thankful that this place has afforded them what would otherwise be impossible, back home.
"I've been thinking about that. What I want to do." A lifetime. Barring any additional illnesses he might develop at a later unknown time, Viktor has that now. He's still deciding, but maybe that's why Jayce is looping back around to this conversation. "New projects. Big ones. The Academy must understand how valuable we are by now. It's in their best interest to allow us full access to their resources."
The fact that Jayce might have been not-so-subtly referring to a lifetime outside of work--their future--doesn't seem to have crossed Viktor's mind.