[ jayce's lips spasm with soft amusement, and he sighs out, through the nose— of course he knows the feeling, he wears a mark now, too. a mirror of each other, in leg brace and now in lovebite. it is the kind of sweet, sweet ache to have as fine reminders of their first wild night, and jayce wouldn't want it differently. the pad of his thumb gently circles around the sore indents, knocking their heads together. he'd be fine, showing his. there'd be some gossip but nothing compromising to his "name" when he wasn't from a rich house and never would be. but . . . ]
no subject
No one can see this, Viktor.
[ for his own sake. and they knew why. ]