Please stop apologizing. Let me just...have this. For a moment.
[That's the closest he'll get to admitting that he needs this too, even though it's not bad or weak, to want comfort. If any situation calls for it, it's this one. Viktor, for all he pushes people away, desperately finds himself wanting it as well, and this closeness--the way Jayce leans into him in his sort of half-embrace--it's what he thinks he was missing. Physical contact isn't going to fix anything, but it is nice, to take a breath and just be, removed from all the distractions and complications that have made everything so fraught.
He'll even go so far to admit that this is nice. They lean against each other and Viktor shifts, to better settle him against his shoulder and rest his chin on top of Jayce's bowed head. His hand creeps slowly, experimentally, from between Jayce's shoulder blades to the nape of his neck, tips of his fingers daring to brush against his hairline.
There's that fantasy again--the one he couldn't even conceive of, because somehow he always knew he would be racing against time. Jayce talks about a world where they're older, distinguished researchers with full careers and an innumerable list of world-changing innovations behind them, and Viktor isn't certain he can even picture himself the way Jayce's describes. The first time he mentioned this, it had been surprising. The second time, well. It hurts. That he's thought this and dreamed up a whole future for them, together, that Viktor can't have.]
I want--
[What does he want?
He wants to stay like this for a little while longer. He wants to see what happens if he tilts his head just inches, enough to put his mouth against Jayce's temple while his head rests against his shoulder. He wants to ask Jayce what he really meant, when he said I love you, V. He wants to live, obviously. Wants to cure his illness and have all the time he needs to change the world for the better. Wants to reverse-engineer the ritual that brought them here and get home, where he'll be the most useful, where he can make sure that what happened to him never happens to anyone else, ever again.
He doesn't act on the impulse, as effortless as it would be. His hand stays where it is. He doesn't say any of those things.]
I want to work, for as long as I can. I want to solve this. [So that, maybe, they can have the future that Jayce dreams about, because he thinks he wants that, too.] But, Jayce-- [Viktor thinks he's been clear about not wanting to give up, at least not yet, and they've done the impossible before. They might still do it, but this is the hard part. What they weren't able to talk about, at home, because neither of them had any time.] When I tell you it's time to stop, we have to stop. I need you to be ready for that.
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Date: 2022-05-03 01:58 am (UTC)[That's the closest he'll get to admitting that he needs this too, even though it's not bad or weak, to want comfort. If any situation calls for it, it's this one. Viktor, for all he pushes people away, desperately finds himself wanting it as well, and this closeness--the way Jayce leans into him in his sort of half-embrace--it's what he thinks he was missing. Physical contact isn't going to fix anything, but it is nice, to take a breath and just be, removed from all the distractions and complications that have made everything so fraught.
He'll even go so far to admit that this is nice. They lean against each other and Viktor shifts, to better settle him against his shoulder and rest his chin on top of Jayce's bowed head. His hand creeps slowly, experimentally, from between Jayce's shoulder blades to the nape of his neck, tips of his fingers daring to brush against his hairline.
There's that fantasy again--the one he couldn't even conceive of, because somehow he always knew he would be racing against time. Jayce talks about a world where they're older, distinguished researchers with full careers and an innumerable list of world-changing innovations behind them, and Viktor isn't certain he can even picture himself the way Jayce's describes. The first time he mentioned this, it had been surprising. The second time, well. It hurts. That he's thought this and dreamed up a whole future for them, together, that Viktor can't have.]
I want--
[What does he want?
He wants to stay like this for a little while longer. He wants to see what happens if he tilts his head just inches, enough to put his mouth against Jayce's temple while his head rests against his shoulder. He wants to ask Jayce what he really meant, when he said I love you, V. He wants to live, obviously. Wants to cure his illness and have all the time he needs to change the world for the better. Wants to reverse-engineer the ritual that brought them here and get home, where he'll be the most useful, where he can make sure that what happened to him never happens to anyone else, ever again.
He doesn't act on the impulse, as effortless as it would be. His hand stays where it is. He doesn't say any of those things.]
I want to work, for as long as I can. I want to solve this. [So that, maybe, they can have the future that Jayce dreams about, because he thinks he wants that, too.] But, Jayce-- [Viktor thinks he's been clear about not wanting to give up, at least not yet, and they've done the impossible before. They might still do it, but this is the hard part. What they weren't able to talk about, at home, because neither of them had any time.] When I tell you it's time to stop, we have to stop. I need you to be ready for that.