[ 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. ]
jayce sputters internally; outwardly, he laughs with a surprised bay, dark skin dawning an even darker wash, charmingly flustered by this now recent turn. part of him wonders how much of a joke it was or if he should take any of the innuendo to heart— but even if he did . . . well, maybe he shouldn't.
still, this talk. this silly, innapropriate banter between two friends, rather than employer and worker. it's quite alright, he thinks. he likes the way viktor is looking at him, likes the way he moves his hands to hide a grin that he'd consider too wide. he liked the appearance of it anyway. the gap in his own pokes out in a smile that is ever tickled. it— makes him feel pleasantly tepid, and flips his stomach left and right.
part of jayce, the worried, cautionary man that has taken too many dangerous falls, warns him. the rest of him ignores it, in favor of the pursuit of something he has never felt, if only for now. it feels right. it feels primal and correct for them. it is natural to want more of something that made his heart feel a touch more complete. it was like looking through a window and seeing . . . something, on the other side. something grand. wanting to touch and grasp and scent but, having the glass wall in the way, and finding it difficult to step outside. ]
I'm a bit of a bronco, [ lies for the most part; he's a gentle, sweet thing. he bucks if he's in the wrong company. or maybe if he's too excited. ] if you can handle that.
[ the charge grows. it is electrifying and addicting.
he finishes with the final screw, and gives the metal frame a suave tap. tink! ]
[ The time before Jayce's reaction makes Viktor feel like he's standing on the edge of the cliff, waiting to see if the wind is strong enough to push him over; he doesn't know if the plunge is worth the seconds of flight. Then he laughs and flushes a darker shade of grey, and Viktor feels a pang of longing to be able to see the color of his hair, his eyes, his lips.
It's still impossible to tell just how Jayce has interpreted Viktor's words, but at least he hasn't taken them poorly enough to be offended. He'd like to think that he's not just being tolerated as employer-by-proxy—it wouldn't be the first time someone smiled at Viktor's oddness and then spoke daggers at his back. Jayce isn't like that, though, he somehow feels confident enough to say after just a few short months of near-constant companionship.
Companionship that he would fight the cosmos to keep.
The thought startles him, putting him off balance for the final blow that is Jayce's reply. The laughter hits him hard, mirth wrinkling the corners of his eyes and the bridge of his nose. ] Don't worry, I can tame you.
[ The clink of metal draws his attention (painfully) away from Jayce and back to the whole reason they're here in this hot stable to begin with. The brace wraps around his leg like a second skin, sleek and shining like a lavish piece of jewelry. ] Shall we take her for a walk?
[ jayce's stress lines have creased so much from just tonight alone (and from smiling, mind you) he may feel that he has gained a few more years of age on his face. even his cheeks sting, but in a pleasant way. especially at the wild, imaginative thought of him being "tamed". he really has to . . . stop, but it is so hard to. it's so much stronger than him.
and that is why, this feel-good high this leaves him in does not spare much room for concern and ramifications. he feels like . . . such a boy. blinded.
jayce gently lifts viktor's foot with both hands, now placing his heel on the ground fully before putting his apron away. before the screwdriver is gone, jayce does a little trick— runs it over his fingers and flips it in the air for his hand to catch, only a show of artistry (and an attempt to impress viktor). he points it to viktor and adds: ]
I'd be honored.
[ a sight that not a single female staff member would ever live to see....... also, honored about what??? he leaves that suspiciously open to interpretation! in the box his tool goes! which is then slid under the bench, and he uses the wooden frames to steady his lift onto both legs. strong one first, braced one after. ]
[ First mesmerized by the gentle way Jayce lowers Viktor's leg to the ground, Viktor is drawn in by the trick of nimble fingers. He's definitely impressed, though thanks to the sexual charge between them at the moment, probably for reasons that Jayce hadn't intended. Or maybe he had.
Humming as Jayce unfolds himself from the ground, Viktor shifts his weight beneath him to begin rising, too. As tempting as it would be to ask for a hand just to touch Jayce, he's more interested in putting the brace to work and seeing just how much of an improvement it can offer him.
The hinge bends properly, loose enough that Viktor can get his leg beneath him while being firm enough to hold him once he's standing straight. He leaves his cane leaning against the side of the bench for now, taking a few steps and trying not to be ginger about it. The difference is immediately apparent, and he looks down at the brace to watch it move for a few more steps before looking up at Jayce with wonder. ]
[ side by side, with their braces mirroring each other, jayce accompanies him with hovering proximity. his braced leg always gives the most subtle of tremors when he puts weight on it, squeezing his fingers into fists whenever the pain decides to strain his nerves more than the usual step, but he can keep it up. he takes viktor's cane, but only to hook it onto the curve of his arms as they walk, slowly, together. in case he wanted to walk further and, or, needed it somewhere down the line.
and that's where jayce's eyes seem to gleam. ]
It's an aluminum and steel blend. Lightweight and durable— best of both worlds. [ jayce's dream was to use titanium— but it's way too expensive, even if he were to make it as a mesh of alloys rather than its pure form. it's also worth nothing that jayce has his arm bent, forming a triangle space between it and his hips. ] If you need a grip, I'm right here.
Engineous. [ He reaches down to brush his fingers over the top of the brace. The band around his thigh looks like it's in different colors, and he wishes he could see what Jayce had picked out; it's embarrassing having to ask, though. ] Have you considered titanium?
[ Looking at Jayce's arm, noting both the space and the consideration for bringing Viktor's cane along, he hesitates. Viktor has never been one for physical touch, growing up unused to it both due to his family's status (fancy people don't hug) and his disability (fancy people prefer not to touch broken things.) Neither of these are issues with Jayce, however, and he's been so thoughtful that Viktor thinks it would be alright to push it a little further.
He steps sideways and slides his arm through Jayce's, hand resting on his bicep. For a few moments, they're just two people walking arm-in-arm, both braces clinking in harmony with each step. ]
One reason I love horses is because I've always wondered how it would feel to run.
[ The words tumble out before Viktor can think to stop them, but Jayce has done such a kindness, and it feels right to repay him with a secret. ]
[ read his mind on the titanium. ahhh, jayce starts, and quietly lets it slide. rather, he was trying to think of a way to phrase it without sounding like he was needy or interested in money, or wanting viktor to pay for it, or something. it was his gift, so— it had to be within his pocket.
but then, the glow of viktor's hand against his swell of muscle silences him in full. it had felt like he'd just taken a swill of whiskey and was putting a fire in his chest that spread to his belly, up his throat and prickling his face all the way to his forehead. this elation was–
incredible.
and jayce will keep a chagrined eye on viktor from his profile, smiling at the ringlets of dark locks in viktor's hair, the mole on his upper lip, the way he too curves thin, soft lips, and the way their braces march close to symphonic. his heart was beginning to race— out of excitement, and their trek is hardly a sport.
he wished he could see more of him. vividly. it is a shock that jayce's prayers are answered another way; to his surprise, a rather intimate confession that clasps his heart and makes it ripple.
he brings the arm viktor holds a little closer to his side. he's never asked in fear of being insensitive, or just not close enough to ask. ]
[ Jayce feels like a furnace beneath Viktor's hand, hot and strong and so capable of making him melt. He wonders absentmindedly if he feels his own body heat, if it bothers him when he's working at the forge, if that's why he works shirtless more often than not.
He's trying very hard to think about something other than a shirtless, sweaty Jayce. The conversation is an important one, if only because it's so private. Viktor dislikes talking about his disability as much as he dislikes talking about any other aspect of his body. As someone so focused on the mind and the pursuit of knowledge, of skill, the body was simply a tool—his own was a bit damaged. ]
Yes, I was born this way. [ He nods, then shrugs. His voice is neither sad nor deprecating, rather factual as always. ] It wasn't so bad when I was smaller, lighter, lower to the ground. Doctors have done what they can, but it's hard to work miracles on something that has always been broken.
[ jayce cants his head to listen well when he must stream his eyes toward the ground, if only for a few moments so he doesn't misstep, as well as know where they're going, even if it was an absolutely slow paced stroll. viktor's brace is functional. no signs of complaint. he also wonders if there's anything that he can improve on. he'll have to ask later.
for now, his mouth pulls agape and his thick brows push in together. despite being so grey, his eyes are beyond expressive when they search viktor's face and, without much thought, he blurts: ]
You're not broken, Viktor. [ leg, viktor himself. the next words come earnest and breathed: ] You're . . . Brilliant.
[ he's so strong. his mental fortitude on top of his intelligence, his wit, his will and stubbornness, all birthed into a package jayce admired more and more by the day. ]
[ The force of Jayce's words surprises him more than the words themselves. He knows, deep down, that a person does not need to be whole to be worth something—that isn't what kept him awake at night as a child, crying silently in bed because there was no purpose to making noise. No one was going to hear him and magically make his leg strong enough to run, to climb trees, to play sports, to swim. So he'd turned to mental pursuits, and it was perhaps a miracle that he had the talent for that instead.
Stopping them short, he turns to Jayce but keeps a hand on the crook of his arm, both for balance and because he finds the warmth so comforting. ]
Do you ever have dreams where you're still able to do all the things you did before? [ He feels guilty that he hadn't needed to ask about Jayce's leg, the injury that had robbed him of a stronger body. It's amazing he can do all he does now, his stamina far outweighing Viktor's. ] My mind cannot even conjure up the lie for me. All I have is one dream where I'm running along a dock at full speed for what feels like the first time, but this body doesn't know what ti feels like.
[ For a moment, he recalls that dream with shocking clarity, and for a second he could swear that his skin was purple. Strange that it would be one of the only dreams he has that's in color. ]
Ah, this is stupid. You've given me such a beautiful gift, and yet I'm sulking. [ He slips his hand from Jayce's arm and takes the cane as he pulls away, walking a little faster. ] Do you know, I can't even see what colors you chose? Tell me about them so I can imagine it.
jayce's thoughts rush as fast as his thumping pulse, but he is not quick enough for this. he listens, at a loss of words. his brows curve together in an apologetic manner. he wish he could've externalized his thoughts better, but then again— can he blame him? jayce's disability was acquired. he was lucky he even got this job in the first place. no one wanted to hire him knowing he wasn't the same.
the talk of dreams sets him off, his mouth opening, closing, then considering one he may not be ready to tell viktor.
strange, he'd have them too.
a reoccuring nightmare has startled jayce since he was a child. he'd have dreams of riding his childhood horse, striker. but something terrible would happen. she'd get spooked and buck, she'd throw them down a ravine, land on his leg, shatter it— and he'd always wake up in a cold sweat with a pain that felt too real. ]
I— [ wait, he wants to say, feeling his heart sink when hands leave him. he shouldn't have asked. or maybe. no— he hoped he was there to listen and see him. the problem now came with the fact that viktor is picking up his own pace, and asking about colors—
jayce's fingers make for something daring; he reaches, without thought, to slow viktor down and catch him by the wrist. ]
Viktor, I— [ "i'm sorry" doesn't seem appropriate, for some reason. he decides to listen to his gut. and go with an answer: ] . . . I think it's green.
[ no one thinks colors when they simply are, but he figures that's a good enough hint, and the better indication as to why jayce looks a bit startled.
[ Viktor is struggling against the cage of his own mind, wishing for once he didn't think so damn much but always falling back on it like a crutch. His brain was how he made sense of a world he didn't quite fit into, a cog slightly out of sync with all the others. Jayce felt like maybe he was spinning at the same pace, same timing, but Viktor thinks it would be cruel to ask him to slow down so they could try and slot together.
From a metaphysical distance much larger than the physical one actually between them, Viktor hears Jayce call his name and thinks of what could follow. He's heard his name on those pretty lips before, in conversations and dreams, but he's never sure what will come after them. Heat encircles his wrist and pulls him up short as it spreads through him like wildfire, making him shiver with the realization of how cold he had been a moment before.
Turning around, facing Jayce, he's struck by the oddity of the answer, both because he actually received it and because it sounded so unsure. ]
[ jayce's hands drop when they seem to have found success in grounding him there for a while longer. with viktor's attention now, it seems jayce struggles to put forth the words. it's something only his parents know, and what the world has labled him for as stupid and lacking attention to obvious detail. it was always you need to pay more attention, jayce or you're so stupid, jayce. he couldn't fucking see, pricks. ]
—I asked for your house's colors. [ he breathed that out as if he was holding it in. low, quiet and near shamefully, he continues, ] They gave me one tin.
[ he had enough for only one and had to choose, after spending the rest on metal. black, it wasn't. they'd say black was achromatic. absense of color, what darkness looks like. he's almost certain he at the very least, knows black.
the next comes with a sigh; a confession. ]
I don't know if it's silver or green.
[ because they're both identical in tone, and no one really thinks to label them when the majority could see the little dot of color on top of the tin, clear as day. even when jayce had asked, he was treated like an idiot: you blind or what?.
he looked and saw the same damn thing. only by sheer cleverness did he get paperwork for the horse's conformations correct, when it came down to the color of their coats. he'd have to sit down and pull up previous profiles in old, dusty folders, and pray that he wasn't put on the spot. ]
[ As soon as Jayce's hand is gone, Viktor misses the weight of it on his skin anchoring him in his body while his mind spins. He's still listening to the details as they are reluctantly shared, but it's a distant thing; his main focus becomes the research he's done on the topic. ]
Is this also a result of your accident?
[ If so, it would have fewer implications. For some reason. It makes sense in Viktor's head, because what is the likelihood that they would both be born with a total inability to see color? They were completely different in all other aspects, at least physically, yet had been immediately drawn together due to shared interests, intelligence, and now this? ]
[ jayce shakes his head. suddenly, despite their proximity, staying this close lacks something more. ]
I was born with it. The accident was . . . My fault.
[ he doesn't really know what to add about it. he spooked the horse, ignored the signs and overlooked a precautionary measure. but now, jayce . . . is observing them both. their legs, their eyes . . . their minds, their interests. how much they compliment each other was almost scary, but especially wonderous.
his heart is skipping beats again. ]
Strange, huh? [ he says it in a way that frames it anything but strange. it's in a soft, admiring way. ] We're like a coin.
[ Two revelations, one after another. In Viktor's opinion, it didn't matter who was to blame for the accident, it was still a tragedy. Unless Jayce had been abusing horses, which was very unlikely, there was no reason to deserve such an injury.
Viktor is more interested in their shared inability to see color, though. ] Strange. [ He has an unfamiliar memory of a gear rotating through the air, smooth and golden on one side, colorfully rotted on the other. He's never seen such a thing in this life.
Stepping closer, he looks up into Jayce's eyes and squints. ] Is it just greens, perhaps reds as well?
[ jayce raises his shoulders a bit; his family never pursued any further medical treatment, especially when there was nothing that could really be done about about a condition so rare. only by some miracle that his vision isn't impaired to the point that he needs glasses— only his goggles when he's in front of the forge's fire, or when the brightness of a too-sunny day begins to hurt. ]
Monochromacy. [ he doesn't see . . . any type of hue. just whites, greys and blacks. ] And yours?
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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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jayce sputters internally; outwardly, he laughs with a surprised bay, dark skin dawning an even darker wash, charmingly flustered by this now recent turn. part of him wonders how much of a joke it was or if he should take any of the innuendo to heart— but even if he did . . . well, maybe he shouldn't.
still, this talk. this silly, innapropriate banter between two friends, rather than employer and worker. it's quite alright, he thinks. he likes the way viktor is looking at him, likes the way he moves his hands to hide a grin that he'd consider too wide. he liked the appearance of it anyway. the gap in his own pokes out in a smile that is ever tickled. it— makes him feel pleasantly tepid, and flips his stomach left and right.
part of jayce, the worried, cautionary man that has taken too many dangerous falls, warns him. the rest of him ignores it, in favor of the pursuit of something he has never felt, if only for now. it feels right. it feels primal and correct for them. it is natural to want more of something that made his heart feel a touch more complete. it was like looking through a window and seeing . . . something, on the other side. something grand. wanting to touch and grasp and scent but, having the glass wall in the way, and finding it difficult to step outside. ]
I'm a bit of a bronco, [ lies for the most part; he's a gentle, sweet thing. he bucks if he's in the wrong company. or maybe if he's too excited. ] if you can handle that.
[ the charge grows. it is electrifying and addicting.
he finishes with the final screw, and gives the metal frame a suave tap. tink! ]
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It's still impossible to tell just how Jayce has interpreted Viktor's words, but at least he hasn't taken them poorly enough to be offended. He'd like to think that he's not just being tolerated as employer-by-proxy—it wouldn't be the first time someone smiled at Viktor's oddness and then spoke daggers at his back. Jayce isn't like that, though, he somehow feels confident enough to say after just a few short months of near-constant companionship.
Companionship that he would fight the cosmos to keep.
The thought startles him, putting him off balance for the final blow that is Jayce's reply. The laughter hits him hard, mirth wrinkling the corners of his eyes and the bridge of his nose. ] Don't worry, I can tame you.
[ The clink of metal draws his attention (painfully) away from Jayce and back to the whole reason they're here in this hot stable to begin with. The brace wraps around his leg like a second skin, sleek and shining like a lavish piece of jewelry. ] Shall we take her for a walk?
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and that is why, this feel-good high this leaves him in does not spare much room for concern and ramifications. he feels like . . . such a boy. blinded.
jayce gently lifts viktor's foot with both hands, now placing his heel on the ground fully before putting his apron away. before the screwdriver is gone, jayce does a little trick— runs it over his fingers and flips it in the air for his hand to catch, only a show of artistry (and an attempt to impress viktor). he points it to viktor and adds: ]
I'd be honored.
[ a sight that not a single female staff member would ever live to see....... also, honored about what??? he leaves that suspiciously open to interpretation! in the box his tool goes! which is then slid under the bench, and he uses the wooden frames to steady his lift onto both legs. strong one first, braced one after. ]
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Humming as Jayce unfolds himself from the ground, Viktor shifts his weight beneath him to begin rising, too. As tempting as it would be to ask for a hand just to touch Jayce, he's more interested in putting the brace to work and seeing just how much of an improvement it can offer him.
The hinge bends properly, loose enough that Viktor can get his leg beneath him while being firm enough to hold him once he's standing straight. He leaves his cane leaning against the side of the bench for now, taking a few steps and trying not to be ginger about it. The difference is immediately apparent, and he looks down at the brace to watch it move for a few more steps before looking up at Jayce with wonder. ]
Incredible. So strong and yet so light.
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and that's where jayce's eyes seem to gleam. ]
It's an aluminum and steel blend. Lightweight and durable— best of both worlds. [ jayce's dream was to use titanium— but it's way too expensive, even if he were to make it as a mesh of alloys rather than its pure form. it's also worth nothing that jayce has his arm bent, forming a triangle space between it and his hips. ] If you need a grip, I'm right here.
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[ Looking at Jayce's arm, noting both the space and the consideration for bringing Viktor's cane along, he hesitates. Viktor has never been one for physical touch, growing up unused to it both due to his family's status (fancy people don't hug) and his disability (fancy people prefer not to touch broken things.) Neither of these are issues with Jayce, however, and he's been so thoughtful that Viktor thinks it would be alright to push it a little further.
He steps sideways and slides his arm through Jayce's, hand resting on his bicep. For a few moments, they're just two people walking arm-in-arm, both braces clinking in harmony with each step. ]
One reason I love horses is because I've always wondered how it would feel to run.
[ The words tumble out before Viktor can think to stop them, but Jayce has done such a kindness, and it feels right to repay him with a secret. ]
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but then, the glow of viktor's hand against his swell of muscle silences him in full. it had felt like he'd just taken a swill of whiskey and was putting a fire in his chest that spread to his belly, up his throat and prickling his face all the way to his forehead. this elation was–
incredible.
and jayce will keep a chagrined eye on viktor from his profile, smiling at the ringlets of dark locks in viktor's hair, the mole on his upper lip, the way he too curves thin, soft lips, and the way their braces march close to symphonic. his heart was beginning to race— out of excitement, and their trek is hardly a sport.
he wished he could see more of him. vividly. it is a shock that jayce's prayers are answered another way; to his surprise, a rather intimate confession that clasps his heart and makes it ripple.
he brings the arm viktor holds a little closer to his side. he's never asked in fear of being insensitive, or just not close enough to ask. ]
Was it something you've always had?
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He's trying very hard to think about something other than a shirtless, sweaty Jayce. The conversation is an important one, if only because it's so private. Viktor dislikes talking about his disability as much as he dislikes talking about any other aspect of his body. As someone so focused on the mind and the pursuit of knowledge, of skill, the body was simply a tool—his own was a bit damaged. ]
Yes, I was born this way. [ He nods, then shrugs. His voice is neither sad nor deprecating, rather factual as always. ] It wasn't so bad when I was smaller, lighter, lower to the ground. Doctors have done what they can, but it's hard to work miracles on something that has always been broken.
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for now, his mouth pulls agape and his thick brows push in together. despite being so grey, his eyes are beyond expressive when they search viktor's face and, without much thought, he blurts: ]
You're not broken, Viktor. [ leg, viktor himself. the next words come earnest and breathed: ] You're . . . Brilliant.
[ he's so strong. his mental fortitude on top of his intelligence, his wit, his will and stubbornness, all birthed into a package jayce admired more and more by the day. ]
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Stopping them short, he turns to Jayce but keeps a hand on the crook of his arm, both for balance and because he finds the warmth so comforting. ]
Do you ever have dreams where you're still able to do all the things you did before? [ He feels guilty that he hadn't needed to ask about Jayce's leg, the injury that had robbed him of a stronger body. It's amazing he can do all he does now, his stamina far outweighing Viktor's. ] My mind cannot even conjure up the lie for me. All I have is one dream where I'm running along a dock at full speed for what feels like the first time, but this body doesn't know what ti feels like.
[ For a moment, he recalls that dream with shocking clarity, and for a second he could swear that his skin was purple. Strange that it would be one of the only dreams he has that's in color. ]
Ah, this is stupid. You've given me such a beautiful gift, and yet I'm sulking. [ He slips his hand from Jayce's arm and takes the cane as he pulls away, walking a little faster. ] Do you know, I can't even see what colors you chose? Tell me about them so I can imagine it.
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jayce's thoughts rush as fast as his thumping pulse, but he is not quick enough for this. he listens, at a loss of words. his brows curve together in an apologetic manner. he wish he could've externalized his thoughts better, but then again— can he blame him? jayce's disability was acquired. he was lucky he even got this job in the first place. no one wanted to hire him knowing he wasn't the same.
the talk of dreams sets him off, his mouth opening, closing, then considering one he may not be ready to tell viktor.
strange, he'd have them too.
a reoccuring nightmare has startled jayce since he was a child. he'd have dreams of riding his childhood horse, striker. but something terrible would happen. she'd get spooked and buck, she'd throw them down a ravine, land on his leg, shatter it— and he'd always wake up in a cold sweat with a pain that felt too real. ]
I— [ wait, he wants to say, feeling his heart sink when hands leave him. he shouldn't have asked. or maybe. no— he hoped he was there to listen and see him. the problem now came with the fact that viktor is picking up his own pace, and asking about colors—
jayce's fingers make for something daring; he reaches, without thought, to slow viktor down and catch him by the wrist. ]
Viktor, I— [ "i'm sorry" doesn't seem appropriate, for some reason. he decides to listen to his gut. and go with an answer: ] . . . I think it's green.
[ no one thinks colors when they simply are, but he figures that's a good enough hint, and the better indication as to why jayce looks a bit startled.
that was an odd coincidence. ]
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From a metaphysical distance much larger than the physical one actually between them, Viktor hears Jayce call his name and thinks of what could follow. He's heard his name on those pretty lips before, in conversations and dreams, but he's never sure what will come after them. Heat encircles his wrist and pulls him up short as it spreads through him like wildfire, making him shiver with the realization of how cold he had been a moment before.
Turning around, facing Jayce, he's struck by the oddity of the answer, both because he actually received it and because it sounded so unsure. ]
You think?
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—I asked for your house's colors. [ he breathed that out as if he was holding it in. low, quiet and near shamefully, he continues, ] They gave me one tin.
[ he had enough for only one and had to choose, after spending the rest on metal. black, it wasn't. they'd say black was achromatic. absense of color, what darkness looks like. he's almost certain he at the very least, knows black.
the next comes with a sigh; a confession. ]
I don't know if it's silver or green.
[ because they're both identical in tone, and no one really thinks to label them when the majority could see the little dot of color on top of the tin, clear as day. even when jayce had asked, he was treated like an idiot: you blind or what?.
he looked and saw the same damn thing. only by sheer cleverness did he get paperwork for the horse's conformations correct, when it came down to the color of their coats. he'd have to sit down and pull up previous profiles in old, dusty folders, and pray that he wasn't put on the spot. ]
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Is this also a result of your accident?
[ If so, it would have fewer implications. For some reason. It makes sense in Viktor's head, because what is the likelihood that they would both be born with a total inability to see color? They were completely different in all other aspects, at least physically, yet had been immediately drawn together due to shared interests, intelligence, and now this? ]
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I was born with it. The accident was . . . My fault.
[ he doesn't really know what to add about it. he spooked the horse, ignored the signs and overlooked a precautionary measure. but now, jayce . . . is observing them both. their legs, their eyes . . . their minds, their interests. how much they compliment each other was almost scary, but especially wonderous.
his heart is skipping beats again. ]
Strange, huh? [ he says it in a way that frames it anything but strange. it's in a soft, admiring way. ] We're like a coin.
[ to different yet very similar sides. ]
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Viktor is more interested in their shared inability to see color, though. ] Strange. [ He has an unfamiliar memory of a gear rotating through the air, smooth and golden on one side, colorfully rotted on the other. He's never seen such a thing in this life.
Stepping closer, he looks up into Jayce's eyes and squints. ] Is it just greens, perhaps reds as well?
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Monochromacy. [ he doesn't see . . . any type of hue. just whites, greys and blacks. ] And yours?
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