[ He emphasizes the negative, but he's smiling nonetheless. No matter what the gift is, it's better than all of the things that his brain had invented about Jayce spending time away from him on other ventures—which is his right to do, but it would still have hurt Viktor for him to not be honest about it.
Drinking in the excitement on Jayce's face, Viktor makes a show of opening the gift carefully. He can see glimmers of metal as the surfaces catch the lamplight, but it's not until he's fully unwrapped it and taken a good long look that it sinks in.
A leg brace. It looks similar to Jayce's own, but more delicate and obviously much thinner to fit Viktor's slight frame. A wide range of emotions flow through him, from sheepishness to gratitude, pain to love. He knows that Jayce doesn't see him as weak, and he's never given Viktor any physical help that wasn't first asked for; but the fact that he saw how much Viktor silently struggled with walking and took his own time and materials to make him something that would help... To be cared for is to risk also being perceived at one's lowest.
Looking up at Jayce finally, eyes a bit dewy, Viktor clears his throat. ] Thank you, Jayce. It's quite lovely. I'm always amazed by your handiwork.
[ jayce watches as emotion furls across viktor's face, a wash of his own sweetens and mellows like the kindling fire in a thriving furnace. the hand once on viktor's shoulder lowers to the side of his arm with an affectionate squeeze, by now having lowered himself to the ground in front of viktor. he has his toolbox, right here. he's eager to see if he got the fit as right as he'd thought.
it is one of his best items to day. sleek, tailor-made, the archs are beautifully dipped and there are even decorative details sculpted into the grooves of the rods, and the colors— he doesn't know. he'll have to explain that later.
it is forged with all of the care in the world. a token of his affection and how much it's grown— a preliminary view of how much it could grow even further. ]
[ Viktor runs his fingers over the details, unnecessary but beautiful in how they add art to function. He wishes he could distinguish the colors of the metal, able to tell that there are different tones but not what hues may go with them. That barely matters, however, because he can tell that Jayce has put thought into every inch of the piece and so probably picked the colors accordingly, too. ]
Oh, uh, yes. [ He shifts a little to straighten up and stretch his right leg out in front of him. ] I am curious as to how you got your hands on my measurements. Have you been snooping through my closet, Jayce?
I, ah, [ there's no running from that, and it pulls jayce's lips into a sheepish snicker; he carefully scoops the brace from its bottom curvatures, off of viktor's lap and on top of his own thighs, now. he has to loosen some of the screws manually, so he'd be able to slot viktor's leg into the structure. ] had to look into your old boots. [ a beat. ] And— pants. Clarice promised not to tell.
[ jayce seldom asked for favors, but clarice, young and roundfaced with braids a big doe eyed, was the lesser of the more serpentine staff. kind, if not a bit . . . too invested in their friendship.
it's ready, and with the consent to proceed, jayce will position the brace's open cast under viktor's leg, raises it with a hyperfocused gaze— and rests his larger hands behind viktor's knee to hold it there. jayce breathes out, quiet yet attentive to the responsibility he weilds. his other hand then swiftly works the middle buckle, just above the knee cap and metal support structure with practiced dexterity and tender effort; an aid in securing the device for later activities. ]
[ It's almost a shame to let Jayce take the brace from his hands, but he knows that the point of it is to use, not just to fawn over. Without the weight of the metal in his hands and lap, he's faced with the reality of Jayce kneeling in front of him, and now Viktor has nothing to do with nervous hands. ]
Well, she certainly kept your secret. [ The thought of Jayce taking measurements from Viktor's pants is slightly more mortifying since he'd had an accomplice, but at least he can rest easy knowing that they were most likely clean at the time.
Viktor flinches a bit at the first touch, both because of a slight static charge firing between them and because he hasn't been touched by someone in... well, he's never been touched there by another person that wasn't family or a doctor. He's quick to relax again, though, because he trusts Jayce and knows that he's familiar by now with both Viktor's leg and his own creation. ] Sorry.
[ —it hits him. a few seconds into tension he feels beneath his fingers and the broken focus after lining a buckle with a hole that he has just . . . so easily touched viktor. the charge in his palms tickles him, engulfs and invites him through an electrifying pulse that he could only feel.
gently, he realizes— especially post apology, that he has not directly asked. has he? the brace was one thing, perhaps touching him was another. he had not thought it would matter until after the fact.
after he felt it, too. he must finish, but now his hands hover. ]
Oh, I'm— No, I'm sorry, I— [ he swallows, he bows his head. he returns his gaze both embarrassed and worried. ] Can I . . . Continue?
[ there it is. maybe he should've been a little more direct about being too . . . intimate, but better this tardy than never at all. ]
Nonsense, you have nothing to be sorry for. [ Viktor waves his hand back and worth, clearing the air and dismissing any apologies or bad feelings on Jayce's part. ] Please, continue.
[ Cursing himself for making things awkward, Viktor busies himself with tapping his fingers against the bench beside him where he's leaning a hand to support himself. ] I just... [ Should he even go so far as to mention it? It's embarrassing to be so sensitive, but the reason behind it is just as awkward. He could lie and say that it was something about the state of his leg, either the nerves themselves or his nervousness around being touched. But he wants Jayce to know the real him, so he feels compelled to tell the truth. ] You haven't exactly seen any suitors banging on our door, have you?
jayce lowers his hands down, palms first, reposing against the sides of viktor's shins; the inside of a hand curves to the underside of his calf, pushing up just enough to prompt gravity to adjust the first strap and buckle. he tests the snugness of the interior cushions with a tame slide of his pinky finger. he didn't want enough space for it to slot in, but he also didn't want to leave any bigger gaps that could cause knocking. it had to be just right.
after an approving hum, jayce continues to the forth buckle, at the shin, then the first buckle, high around the thighs. his touch is meek all the while, but how his hands, hot like a furnace, clean from his shower but bulky and hardworking, travel up and down are deliberate, confidential; he feels his heart begin to flip, and race, to which he tries very hard to quell it to moderate silence.
the only result of that is greater heat around his face. the charge continues to be discernable. jayce distracts himself with the conversation, but feels a leap in his chest instead. ]
I, uh . . . [ he's so painfully focused on his tasks that if someone interested in viktor rolled up to get to know him and the property, he wouldn't have noticed. but then again he thinks he'd notice, accutely, if viktor was with someone. the thought pricks his upper lip. he tries to ignore the fire it flames. ] No, I don't think, [ he starts opening his tool box for a screwdriver. ] It's— not my business.
[ was viktor betrothed? he never mentioned it, but— what if it was something arranged? such marriages between the upper class happening more often than not, jayce . . . didn't like the thought. it made him feel possessive, angry and aching, and that led to embarrassment.
he'd understand if it were a secret he's only touching upon now, but hoped to god it wasn't that. ]
[ If Viktor didn't know any better, he would start to think it was deliberate. Jayce moves his hands like a confident creator, finding the angles of Viktor's legs like he'd put them there. It made him wonder how long Jayce had been paying such close attention from afar, mapping the lines and geometry, and that made him wonder further if it might have started before this project even began.
Wishful thinking.
Still, even if he's given consent to be touched and made his peace with it, that doesn't mean it's any easier to stop his body from reacting. He's touch-starved, through and through, so even the small brushes of a finger or the light press of a knuckle makes him react. Each tense of muscle is followed by a conscious effort to relax again, each intake of breath stifled by a bitten lip. When Jayce traces a finger along the inside of Viktor's leg, by god, it's a herculean task not to shiver. ]
W-well— [ He stops himself short. They're partners, and Viktor has come to think of Jayce as a friend, but that doesn't mean he's interested in his romantic life—or lack thereof. ] Ah, forgive me. It's an inappropriate topic.
[ jayce hasn't noticed that in his work, in his bottled attempts to defuse his heart and convince himself to proceed without any perverse ideas about his hands and viktor's thin legs (because that would be a horrible way to taint their friendship, and take advantage of a man he'd never think to violate), jayce's bottom lip has jutted a bit too far. he is pouting at his own assumptions, grown man that he was, prudently slotting the head of his tool into one of the main bolts and bending the metal to a tight fit.
how could marriage be innapropriate? it should be as average a topic as any.
he feels his throat dry, and it shouldn't be. he feels his cheeks sizzle at the tiny muscle strains under the fabric of viktor's pants. even the hike of it to expose socked ankles has jayce blinking away. ]
Would it, [ his voice is quiet, concerned: ] affect our partnership?
[ viktor had been joking earlier, but now jayce too, feels the sultry burn of jealousy of anything, anyone, that would spirit this man away from him. karma couldn't be so disregulated that he's being punished for blowing viktor off for a month, could it? ]
Certainly not. [ He doesn't even have time to think before he's blurting out the words, forceful and honest. Regardless of the topic, there is nothing on Viktor's side of things that would affect their partnership. There's no reason for Jayce to worry that he'll be left high and dry in his endeavors for he'll always have Viktor's backing, even if he does admit that the friendship was one-sided. His talent is too good, too important, to go to waste. ] I can be professional, believe it or not. And I remember telling you that you wouldn't be rid of me so easily.
[ a beat in both thought and work; jayce's features, as much as his broad shoulders, seem to relax from (perhaps not so hidden) tension. a small curve finally straightens out the frown.
then maybe it's not what he thinks it is, to his immense relief, and that makes him feel a little silly. unless it was all wishful thinking? ]
I could rest easy, then. [ another bolt, a cog that needed a wrench; he positions his knees together and erects his back so that leaning over for a short period wouldn't kill his posture. he cups viktor's thigh on one side with a sideways containment of palm and fingers, screws the iron on the other with soft clicks from a gently pumping wrench. ] What is it?
[ Viktor takes the change in Jayce's expression as him working out part of the fit of the brace, nothing more. There's nothing to read into right now, except for his own body language, and he's trying to hide that as much as possible.
Okay, maybe he could read into those words a little. At least it's good to know that Jayce is just as opposed to ending their partnership as Viktor is, even if for other reasons. He hums a bit, the sound pitching a bit higher as Jayce's hand cups the outside of his thigh and the other lifts a wrench to the inseam. He can feel the heat and weight of fingers wrapping around the back of his leg, and it's both embarrassing and thrilling to think of how much of Jayce's hand could fit around Viktor's leg.
Conversation. Right. Viktor swallows thickly and stops staring at Jayce's hands to focus on his face. ]
[ there's one last where jayce finalizes a turn and splays his fingers for a wider grip. indeed, his hand could easily slit right around the flesh with remarkable ease. now, the knee. alotting into the diamond shaped depression, jayce switches wrench for driver, all sides having screws to fix in place. gently, he extends viktor's leg, then bends it; not unlike he would stretch a colt to test and remind himself until what point he should stiffen the frame. viktor needed support, but he also needed a balance between that and efficient mobility. ]
The innapropriate thing you were going to tell me.
[ jayce bites his lips; a reflex of his concentration, for nowm ]
If it won't affect what we have, then it's alright.
[ he wants to be able to think that very much, at least. seeing him wed to someone else ("someone else" is laughable, in that it implies he'd ever be able to be that someone else) would hurt, but perhaps that distance was the best before these impossible fantasies overtook him.
[ It's possible that Jayce is trying to use the conversation to distract Viktor from his discomfort, but inadvertently he's brought his attention right back to it. Inappropriate things. Does Jayce not realize what he's asking.
Huffing a little laugh, breathless from the constant movement of Jayce's surprisingly nimble fingers, Viktor runs a hand through his hair to push it from his face. Instead of returning it to the seat of the bench, he stretches it to the side and drapes it across the back. It helps keep him anchored as his leg is lifted and bent, pliable beneath attentive hands.
What we have. What did they have? Viktor has to wonder. Maybe that's what pushes him to be blunt, an experiment of his own to see how Jayce may react. If he doesn't take kindly to it, then best to build that boundary up between them now rather than later. ]
I was implying that I am sensitive to being touched because I haven't been fucked in quite some time.
[ jayce's screwdriver clatters to the floor unceremoniously, slipping through his suddenly clumsy hold, and he shoots out to steady it and the noise it causes. perhaps this only startles him because he wasn't expecting it, like, at all, his slightly widened eyes don't deny that, for as split second as they are! one of the horses even seem to be snickering at him from afar, which seals the darkening of his jowls what feels to him like permanently. his reaction is terrible, embarrassing really—
but he gets past his barricade of o-oh, oh— and laughs it off, both relieved for some reason that it wasn't a thing like what he'd been thinking as well as flustered, beyond his own good.
there's nothing wrong, with talking about that. right? even though jayce's sexual activity has been abismally absent because of his own doing. he's only ever slept with one woman, and that was quite some time ago. he was young and a little stupid. ]
Well, ah, [ screwdriver firm. in his hands. not going to fall again. he proofs the screw he'd earlier squeezed, but it occurs to him that he's trying the wrong one. going left to the correct hole, and smiling, dumbly, caging viktor's knee from the right: ] that makes two of us, hah.
[ he's not uncomfortable; only a bit caught off guard. it's for one, better than hearing he was going to be wed.
[ Flustering Jayce had been part of the goal, but Viktor can't help the smug smile that tugs at the corners of his lips when he sees how successful he'd been. For all the gruff manliness and rugged good looks, Jayce was still capable of stumbling at the mention of sexual relations. Was it because his employer (technically, they haven't really acted as such in a while) was the one to broach the subject? Was it due to the crass language he'd used? Could he dare to hope for some deeper, other reason?
The stuttering and laughter tell Viktor that he hadn't ruined the mood by being too inappropriate, as he'd feared. Perhaps they can talk about these things, man to man, if not for any other purpose. He even bites back some of his own laughter when Jayce seems to lose his place in the task at hand—the brace doesn't break, at least, so there's no fear of a grave mistake. ]
You're joking. [ His expression is right back to serious, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. He thinks it's pretty obvious why no one has bedded him in years—the same cannot be said for Jayce Talis. ]
[ jayce's shoulders quake silently, and another breath of a would-be laugh whistles between the gap in his teeth. when he has regained his composure enough to lift his gaze back to viktor he is even smiling with his eyes, the flash of white from his mouth a split second beam as he cants his head and lifts his brows for emphasis.
the knee is finished. the final casing is on the shin and ankle. jayce does this next part quite similarly as he does fixing shoes; it's easier for him. lifting viktor's leg and placing his own thighs together, jayce unrolls his trusty leather apron from his box and unfurls it in his lap. viktor's heel is lowered into the gap caused by his legs squeezed, securing his foot and switching hands. his right encircles viktor's calf, his first two fingers left open to support as the other two curl around a flacid ball of muscle; his left turns the cog, and the metal squeaks with pressure. ]
I open my mouth and everyone runs.
[ he says that in a lighthearted way, because it doesn't bother him now. most people he's met don't want to hear him yap about the biomechanics of a horse's foot over their looks, or listen to him dump information about why he thinks a horse would need uneven shoes to recover from lameness. or even how a brace with the right proportions could save a horse that would have to be euthanized on sight.
no one ever rivaled his mental stimulation and his needs for that over warming a bed. after the accident, jayce learned even more to never prioritize fleeting pleasure over lasting connection. ]
[ The whistle of laughter, the flash of smile—Viktor can't imagine why Jayce would be alone other than as a personal choice. He's noticed how the female staff look at him longingly and talk about his strength when helping out with this or that. Viktor is colorblind and still knows that Jayce is what they mean when they say "tall, dark, and handsome."
And brilliant. Jayce is as skilled at theoretical discussions as he was with practical applications, and the beautiful brace he's fitting to Viktor's leg is proof of that. Viktor's can't help but feel grateful that he has something to focus on other than how the atrophied muscles must feel compared to Jayce's own strong hands.
Viktor clicks his tongue at the idea that anyone would run away from Jayce's brilliant mind and how he articulates it. Did he fumble with excitement sometimes? Yes, but that was all the more endearing along with the sparkle of passion in his eyes and hopeful smile on his lips. Viktor is about to say something as much—minus a lot of the romantic imagery—when Jayce beats him to it. ]
Your mind is your most beautiful asset. [ So much for toning down the romance. ] I mean, you're obviously also tragically handsome.
[ he barks it out with a sweet, genuine laugh weaved through the word, a single curious question that begs to ask why tragic? it's what he latches onto so he could function properly throughout this now playful banter, because being complimented on his mind made his ears tingle.
that, and one more inclined to think so would say they were beginning to flirt.
the screw is in its place. one more, the ankle, is left to go. and jayce begins with a beckoning glance upward, as if to test him with an answer, a wrinkle of the bridge of his nose that accompanies his grinning, and then the downcast concentration to get the final screw in. ]
[ It had been an instinct to include, and now that he's thinking about it, he can't just give an accurate reason that would be too close to the truth. Too handsome to be mine, which is tragic for Viktor but not necessarily Jayce.
But those eyes look up at him from beneath thick eyelashes, and that's enough to have Viktor blushing and searching for something to reply with so that his mind can't dwell too long on this image. ]
Tragic for anyone who wishes you'd look their way while you're busy toiling in stables and forges.
[ jayce has realized that he's watching viktor's face more than he is his work, caught in the little details of his mouth and moles, sharp cheek bones and skin that looked a little warmer. he could never really tell if it was just the lighting or . . .
from one side of viktor's foot, he turns his attention to the other facet, cradling the space between viktor's ankle and shin from behind it to relieve any stress. he still keeps it wedged between his own legs, only craning his neck from side to side to angle his view and fix accordingly. ]
Good thing the smell wards most of them off.
[ a snippit of his thoughts in that, he's not interested in most people. but not you, he thinks again. then he feels a tug in his chest, a need to share, which happens a lot in regards to his feelings. he likes to put them out there, if he's comfortable enough. ]
I . . . Thought you were going to say you were engaged, or something.
[ he was certainly gorgeous enough to, if it were by choice. ]
[ Viktor laughs at that, tilting his head from side to side like he's weighing the validity of that statement. He knows that it's probably off-putting to most, but the smell of hay reminds him of home, and the smell of metalwork reminds him of the future. Jayce was unique in that way, feeling comfortable and familiar while also full of dangerous potential—his company was as thrilling as it was soothing.
Choking on a laugh, Viktor looks down with wide eyes. ] Me? Engaged? Ah, yes, because I'm such a catch. Who wouldn't want to be betrothed to a crippled scholar who spends more time with horses than with people?
[ ah— is that what he thinks? jayce thinks to say exactly on his mind, when. oh, no . . .
the opportunity to also be funny presents itself. jayce takes it, dropping his hands a little dramatically and quirking a brow with an exaggerated, faux stretch. ]
Are you calling me a horse?
[ he tries to keep that strike of serious up for a few more seconds—
before a snort reverbs behind his teeth and into a deep chuckle. he laughs at his own jokes, still. he is a funny man behind the curtains.
[ Of all the responses he could have expected, this is low on the list. Letting out a surprised bark of laughter, he covers his mouth a second later to hide a grin. Everything is telling him to be careful, don't ruin this, but something even deeper is urging him to trust that it'll all be okay. ]
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[ He emphasizes the negative, but he's smiling nonetheless. No matter what the gift is, it's better than all of the things that his brain had invented about Jayce spending time away from him on other ventures—which is his right to do, but it would still have hurt Viktor for him to not be honest about it.
Drinking in the excitement on Jayce's face, Viktor makes a show of opening the gift carefully. He can see glimmers of metal as the surfaces catch the lamplight, but it's not until he's fully unwrapped it and taken a good long look that it sinks in.
A leg brace. It looks similar to Jayce's own, but more delicate and obviously much thinner to fit Viktor's slight frame. A wide range of emotions flow through him, from sheepishness to gratitude, pain to love. He knows that Jayce doesn't see him as weak, and he's never given Viktor any physical help that wasn't first asked for; but the fact that he saw how much Viktor silently struggled with walking and took his own time and materials to make him something that would help... To be cared for is to risk also being perceived at one's lowest.
Looking up at Jayce finally, eyes a bit dewy, Viktor clears his throat. ] Thank you, Jayce. It's quite lovely. I'm always amazed by your handiwork.
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it is one of his best items to day. sleek, tailor-made, the archs are beautifully dipped and there are even decorative details sculpted into the grooves of the rods, and the colors— he doesn't know. he'll have to explain that later.
it is forged with all of the care in the world. a token of his affection and how much it's grown— a preliminary view of how much it could grow even further. ]
Ready to try it on?
[ he asks this with gentle encouragement. ]
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Oh, uh, yes. [ He shifts a little to straighten up and stretch his right leg out in front of him. ] I am curious as to how you got your hands on my measurements. Have you been snooping through my closet, Jayce?
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[ jayce seldom asked for favors, but clarice, young and roundfaced with braids a big doe eyed, was the lesser of the more serpentine staff. kind, if not a bit . . . too invested in their friendship.
it's ready, and with the consent to proceed, jayce will position the brace's open cast under viktor's leg, raises it with a hyperfocused gaze— and rests his larger hands behind viktor's knee to hold it there. jayce breathes out, quiet yet attentive to the responsibility he weilds. his other hand then swiftly works the middle buckle, just above the knee cap and metal support structure with practiced dexterity and tender effort; an aid in securing the device for later activities. ]
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Well, she certainly kept your secret. [ The thought of Jayce taking measurements from Viktor's pants is slightly more mortifying since he'd had an accomplice, but at least he can rest easy knowing that they were most likely clean at the time.
Viktor flinches a bit at the first touch, both because of a slight static charge firing between them and because he hasn't been touched by someone in... well, he's never been touched there by another person that wasn't family or a doctor. He's quick to relax again, though, because he trusts Jayce and knows that he's familiar by now with both Viktor's leg and his own creation. ] Sorry.
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gently, he realizes— especially post apology, that he has not directly asked. has he? the brace was one thing, perhaps touching him was another. he had not thought it would matter until after the fact.
after he felt it, too. he must finish, but now his hands hover. ]
Oh, I'm— No, I'm sorry, I— [ he swallows, he bows his head. he returns his gaze both embarrassed and worried. ] Can I . . . Continue?
[ there it is. maybe he should've been a little more direct about being too . . . intimate, but better this tardy than never at all. ]
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[ Cursing himself for making things awkward, Viktor busies himself with tapping his fingers against the bench beside him where he's leaning a hand to support himself. ] I just... [ Should he even go so far as to mention it? It's embarrassing to be so sensitive, but the reason behind it is just as awkward. He could lie and say that it was something about the state of his leg, either the nerves themselves or his nervousness around being touched. But he wants Jayce to know the real him, so he feels compelled to tell the truth. ] You haven't exactly seen any suitors banging on our door, have you?
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jayce lowers his hands down, palms first, reposing against the sides of viktor's shins; the inside of a hand curves to the underside of his calf, pushing up just enough to prompt gravity to adjust the first strap and buckle. he tests the snugness of the interior cushions with a tame slide of his pinky finger. he didn't want enough space for it to slot in, but he also didn't want to leave any bigger gaps that could cause knocking. it had to be just right.
after an approving hum, jayce continues to the forth buckle, at the shin, then the first buckle, high around the thighs. his touch is meek all the while, but how his hands, hot like a furnace, clean from his shower but bulky and hardworking, travel up and down are deliberate, confidential; he feels his heart begin to flip, and race, to which he tries very hard to quell it to moderate silence.
the only result of that is greater heat around his face. the charge continues to be discernable. jayce distracts himself with the conversation, but feels a leap in his chest instead. ]
I, uh . . . [ he's so painfully focused on his tasks that if someone interested in viktor rolled up to get to know him and the property, he wouldn't have noticed. but then again he thinks he'd notice, accutely, if viktor was with someone. the thought pricks his upper lip. he tries to ignore the fire it flames. ] No, I don't think, [ he starts opening his tool box for a screwdriver. ] It's— not my business.
[ was viktor betrothed? he never mentioned it, but— what if it was something arranged? such marriages between the upper class happening more often than not, jayce . . . didn't like the thought. it made him feel possessive, angry and aching, and that led to embarrassment.
he'd understand if it were a secret he's only touching upon now, but hoped to god it wasn't that. ]
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Wishful thinking.
Still, even if he's given consent to be touched and made his peace with it, that doesn't mean it's any easier to stop his body from reacting. He's touch-starved, through and through, so even the small brushes of a finger or the light press of a knuckle makes him react. Each tense of muscle is followed by a conscious effort to relax again, each intake of breath stifled by a bitten lip. When Jayce traces a finger along the inside of Viktor's leg, by god, it's a herculean task not to shiver. ]
W-well— [ He stops himself short. They're partners, and Viktor has come to think of Jayce as a friend, but that doesn't mean he's interested in his romantic life—or lack thereof. ] Ah, forgive me. It's an inappropriate topic.
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how could marriage be innapropriate? it should be as average a topic as any.
he feels his throat dry, and it shouldn't be. he feels his cheeks sizzle at the tiny muscle strains under the fabric of viktor's pants. even the hike of it to expose socked ankles has jayce blinking away. ]
Would it, [ his voice is quiet, concerned: ] affect our partnership?
[ viktor had been joking earlier, but now jayce too, feels the sultry burn of jealousy of anything, anyone, that would spirit this man away from him. karma couldn't be so disregulated that he's being punished for blowing viktor off for a month, could it? ]
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then maybe it's not what he thinks it is, to his immense relief, and that makes him feel a little silly. unless it was all wishful thinking? ]
I could rest easy, then. [ another bolt, a cog that needed a wrench; he positions his knees together and erects his back so that leaning over for a short period wouldn't kill his posture. he cups viktor's thigh on one side with a sideways containment of palm and fingers, screws the iron on the other with soft clicks from a gently pumping wrench. ] What is it?
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Okay, maybe he could read into those words a little. At least it's good to know that Jayce is just as opposed to ending their partnership as Viktor is, even if for other reasons. He hums a bit, the sound pitching a bit higher as Jayce's hand cups the outside of his thigh and the other lifts a wrench to the inseam. He can feel the heat and weight of fingers wrapping around the back of his leg, and it's both embarrassing and thrilling to think of how much of Jayce's hand could fit around Viktor's leg.
Conversation. Right. Viktor swallows thickly and stops staring at Jayce's hands to focus on his face. ]
Hm? What is what?
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The innapropriate thing you were going to tell me.
[ jayce bites his lips; a reflex of his concentration, for nowm ]
If it won't affect what we have, then it's alright.
[ he wants to be able to think that very much, at least. seeing him wed to someone else ("someone else" is laughable, in that it implies he'd ever be able to be that someone else) would hurt, but perhaps that distance was the best before these impossible fantasies overtook him.
(jayce hasn't realized it already has) ]
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Huffing a little laugh, breathless from the constant movement of Jayce's surprisingly nimble fingers, Viktor runs a hand through his hair to push it from his face. Instead of returning it to the seat of the bench, he stretches it to the side and drapes it across the back. It helps keep him anchored as his leg is lifted and bent, pliable beneath attentive hands.
What we have. What did they have? Viktor has to wonder. Maybe that's what pushes him to be blunt, an experiment of his own to see how Jayce may react. If he doesn't take kindly to it, then best to build that boundary up between them now rather than later. ]
I was implying that I am sensitive to being touched because I haven't been fucked in quite some time.
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but he gets past his barricade of o-oh, oh— and laughs it off, both relieved for some reason that it wasn't a thing like what he'd been thinking as well as flustered, beyond his own good.
there's nothing wrong, with talking about that. right? even though jayce's sexual activity has been abismally absent because of his own doing. he's only ever slept with one woman, and that was quite some time ago. he was young and a little stupid. ]
Well, ah, [ screwdriver firm. in his hands. not going to fall again. he proofs the screw he'd earlier squeezed, but it occurs to him that he's trying the wrong one. going left to the correct hole, and smiling, dumbly, caging viktor's knee from the right: ] that makes two of us, hah.
[ he's not uncomfortable; only a bit caught off guard. it's for one, better than hearing he was going to be wed.
oh, what is wrong with him— ]
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The stuttering and laughter tell Viktor that he hadn't ruined the mood by being too inappropriate, as he'd feared. Perhaps they can talk about these things, man to man, if not for any other purpose. He even bites back some of his own laughter when Jayce seems to lose his place in the task at hand—the brace doesn't break, at least, so there's no fear of a grave mistake. ]
You're joking. [ His expression is right back to serious, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. He thinks it's pretty obvious why no one has bedded him in years—the same cannot be said for Jayce Talis. ]
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the knee is finished. the final casing is on the shin and ankle. jayce does this next part quite similarly as he does fixing shoes; it's easier for him. lifting viktor's leg and placing his own thighs together, jayce unrolls his trusty leather apron from his box and unfurls it in his lap. viktor's heel is lowered into the gap caused by his legs squeezed, securing his foot and switching hands. his right encircles viktor's calf, his first two fingers left open to support as the other two curl around a flacid ball of muscle; his left turns the cog, and the metal squeaks with pressure. ]
I open my mouth and everyone runs.
[ he says that in a lighthearted way, because it doesn't bother him now. most people he's met don't want to hear him yap about the biomechanics of a horse's foot over their looks, or listen to him dump information about why he thinks a horse would need uneven shoes to recover from lameness. or even how a brace with the right proportions could save a horse that would have to be euthanized on sight.
no one ever rivaled his mental stimulation and his needs for that over warming a bed. after the accident, jayce learned even more to never prioritize fleeting pleasure over lasting connection. ]
Except you.
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And brilliant. Jayce is as skilled at theoretical discussions as he was with practical applications, and the beautiful brace he's fitting to Viktor's leg is proof of that. Viktor's can't help but feel grateful that he has something to focus on other than how the atrophied muscles must feel compared to Jayce's own strong hands.
Viktor clicks his tongue at the idea that anyone would run away from Jayce's brilliant mind and how he articulates it. Did he fumble with excitement sometimes? Yes, but that was all the more endearing along with the sparkle of passion in his eyes and hopeful smile on his lips. Viktor is about to say something as much—minus a lot of the romantic imagery—when Jayce beats him to it. ]
Your mind is your most beautiful asset. [ So much for toning down the romance. ] I mean, you're obviously also tragically handsome.
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[ he barks it out with a sweet, genuine laugh weaved through the word, a single curious question that begs to ask why tragic? it's what he latches onto so he could function properly throughout this now playful banter, because being complimented on his mind made his ears tingle.
that, and one more inclined to think so would say they were beginning to flirt.
the screw is in its place. one more, the ankle, is left to go. and jayce begins with a beckoning glance upward, as if to test him with an answer, a wrinkle of the bridge of his nose that accompanies his grinning, and then the downcast concentration to get the final screw in. ]
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But those eyes look up at him from beneath thick eyelashes, and that's enough to have Viktor blushing and searching for something to reply with so that his mind can't dwell too long on this image. ]
Tragic for anyone who wishes you'd look their way while you're busy toiling in stables and forges.
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from one side of viktor's foot, he turns his attention to the other facet, cradling the space between viktor's ankle and shin from behind it to relieve any stress. he still keeps it wedged between his own legs, only craning his neck from side to side to angle his view and fix accordingly. ]
Good thing the smell wards most of them off.
[ a snippit of his thoughts in that, he's not interested in most people. but not you, he thinks again. then he feels a tug in his chest, a need to share, which happens a lot in regards to his feelings. he likes to put them out there, if he's comfortable enough. ]
I . . . Thought you were going to say you were engaged, or something.
[ he was certainly gorgeous enough to, if it were by choice. ]
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Choking on a laugh, Viktor looks down with wide eyes. ] Me? Engaged? Ah, yes, because I'm such a catch. Who wouldn't want to be betrothed to a crippled scholar who spends more time with horses than with people?
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the opportunity to also be funny presents itself. jayce takes it, dropping his hands a little dramatically and quirking a brow with an exaggerated, faux stretch. ]
Are you calling me a horse?
[ he tries to keep that strike of serious up for a few more seconds—
before a snort reverbs behind his teeth and into a deep chuckle. he laughs at his own jokes, still. he is a funny man behind the curtains.
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Are you saying I should take you for a ride?
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