[ jayce stays up in his quarters after parting ways with his partner for the night. he's been up just . . . replaying the moments they had, the plenty of times viktor had laughed or when his eyes twinkled or the way his eyebrows would kink when he was upset, the turn of his lips down in a frown or the clever simper he'd dawn. the moles on his face. he noticed another on his neck last night. how many constellations did he have? what color were his eyes? were the curls in his hair as soft as they looked? what did he smell like from up close?
would he keep looking his way?
his lips . . . he wished he could—
jayce had started the header of his journal entry describing the brace's success. before he knew it, he'd filled out pages of his notebook only with sketches of viktor. just viktor, moments with viktor in his mind's eye. he begins studying the greyscale pieces, smiling to himself in boyish infatuation page after page. he's thirty-two years old, and his stomach sommersaults like a teenager's. the space between his legs burn with wanting. he—
jayce rests his head on his desk, and runs his hands through his hair in quiet bliss and biting agony.
because he is absolutely smitten, and they're worlds apart. men, separated by wealth and class. and work. what does he do? what does he do when faced with this, but so enamored, pulled by a connection so deep— that he cannot fathom ignoring it? he'll lose his mind. he feels like he'll lose the piece of himself that he's been searching for all of these years.
jayce presses his forehead against a bust sketch and ends up smudging the pencil strokes that bring viktor's hair to life. he's lovesick, and at the same time it brings him completing joy, it also scares him. again: what is he to do?
it is a question that would not be answered tonight. he refrains from touching the roused heat at the base of his pelvis, feeling shame to taint their partnership he wouldn't dare lose, and instead forces himself to curve sideways. he soon exhausts himself and dreams, and it's wild— he and viktor conduct magical experiments together. they eventually achieve success, floating in a magical space of blue, although he wouldn't know how to point it out as such.
runic symbols ripple around them. jayce laughs with childlike youth, pokes a loose cog in the air— and viktor, with a smile he's never seen before, catches it in mid-flight. it's wondrous. it's . . . fun. it's beautiful.
he does his work in the morning, during the day— and waits for the evening with an invite in the works. he doesn't stop thinking. he never stops thinking. as he waits, jayce ends up journaling earlier in the night, resting on one of the benches with two horses tacked up in their stalls. he writes about his dream and it's odd vividness, along with drawing viktor's grinning, sweet face.
[Unbeknownst to them both, Viktor spends his evening in similar fashion of lustful wanting. He doesn't have the artistic skills of Jayce, but he takes to his own journal to write down everything they had discovered and disclosed over the course of the afternoon. His writing is messy and frantic, hand struggling to keep up with his mind as he painstakingly recreates every memory and scribbles more questions in the margins.
Titanium vendors and pricing? Statistical data on monochromatic color blindness? Hobbies / activities in free time? Single.
The final note feels stupid to include, because there's no way that Viktor would be able to forget the admission nor the way it framed every touch between them, ever smile that wrinkled the corners of Jayce's eyes and flashed the gap in his front teeth. Viktor can't describe the way it had made him feel to thread his arm through Jayce's and walk together, nor the selfless kindness that he'd shown with his gift to Viktor.
Sighing and wishing, for once, that he had more of a knack for at least one of the humanities, Viktor sets down his pencil and leans back in his chair. It's late into the night, or perhaps early into the morning, when he wakes with a crick in his back and the realization that he needs to remove the brace in order to remove his pants.
He should have ask Jayce to help with both.
He shakes his head and focuses instead on hobbling to bed, stiff from falling asleep sitting up and the exercise of the day. Luckily, the brace is incredibly clever, as is Viktor, and he's able to figure out the removal process from having watched Jayce put it on. Setting it aside gently, he collapses into bed and dreams. He dreams of Jayce, looking younger and almost like a stranger compared to his gruff, bearded self that Viktor knows. The dream is in color, but when Viktor wakes, he can't recall what anything had looked like other than the warmth of Jayce's smile. ]
What am I going to do about all this?
[ The first thing is sigh, and then get out of bed. He's just putting the brace back on, freshly washed and clothed, when he receives the invitation from Jayce. It's a little silly, considering they've spent time together almost daily since Jayce's arrival, but the formality of it sparks Viktor's interest—not that he would ever decline.
He bids his time until the evening in the library, writing more notes and seeking out some information on eye structures. He's never been all that interested in seeing color, but maybe he's never had something worth looking at until recently.
Leaving everything strewn on his desk, he sets out for the stables a little early so he can further test the brace, walking the long way around before wandering in through one of the big open doors. ] Jayce?
[ jayce has never jumped out of his skin so fast. ]
Viktor—
[ startled and fumbling his notebook, it only barely misses a fall to the ground before he snatches it between his knees. his pencil doesn't have the same luck, and he scrambles. it's not that he was doing anything wrong, he was only indulging in his hobbies, creating in his space. but. he was probably so focused and now so accutely aware of his embarrassing obsession that he's almost certain viktor would be weary about so many drawings of him.
jayce had been expecting to welcome him from the his front— not behind. ]
I— I didn't see you, [ he sputters, attempting to pocket his book and failing to remember that he's wearing what one may consider to be presentable clothes. snug, dark slacks and a clean, plain (white, probably) top. the notebook doesn't fit in these pockets, so he has to make do with the sheepish realization, glancing sideways and downward, that he's just rubbing it against his thigh. ]
[ It startles Viktor to see Jayce react so strongly, a smirk immediately pulling at the corner of his lips. ]
Were you not expecting me?
[ The trick with his notebook was impressive, drawing Viktor's attention to his knees and then up to where his thick thighs press together. Viktor had hoped to leave indecent thoughts behind him in his bedroom, but it couldn't help the way such a pose made his mouth water. He would have to be truly blind not to appreciate the musculature of Jayce's body, but he also likes to see it in more... vulnerable positions.
Moving closer to stand a step away from Jayce's feet, Viktor looks down at him and takes a guilty moment to admire his dark eyelashes and—trimmed beard? He looks like he's made effort to clean up, and Viktor had somehow missed the fact that his beautiful thighs were wrapped in slacks rather than the thicker pants that he usually wore for work. His shirt was what Viktor could only guess to be white since it was such a lighter tone than the others Jayce was often wearing, clean of smudges and stains. ]
You look nice. Is there another occasion I'm missing? [ Though he's teasing about the fact that Jayce had given him such a generous gift the day earlier, Viktor is already trying to think of a way to return the gesture. ]
[ oh, but he has. the beard stays, but it is cropped for a slightly spruced look he wouldn't be caring about if it were for anyone else. his suspenders are on point, his boots are clean! he's wearing the oils his mother gifted him. it's not cologne, but it is infinitely better that smelling like sweat and soot (unfortunately he likes the smell of horse). he's made a bit of an effort to look handsome, all without dipping into the image of someone he isn't.
a bit flustered in between, but his chipped smile perseveres. he might as well come out with it, in favor of not fumbling even more with his words. viktor is winding him up with the proximity, his verbal teasing— soon, he won't be able to see them without croaking. his notebook and pencil stay tucked at his side when he starts: ]
I, [ phew. don't grin too wide now! ] thank you, [ all bright eyed and cunning, viktor was— always was. stay focused, for now. he could feel himself go a little crazy of he doesn't do this. ] —Do you want to go for a walk?
[ It's a little overwhelming, not because Jayce looks all that different, but because it's a lot of little things that add up to an unfamiliar presentation. Viktor already things he looks handsome, though, even if he's not yet ready to say such a thing out loud. The scent is probably the most surprising thing—he's always liked the way that Jayce smelled of all the things Viktor loves.
Head cocked to one side, he meets Jayce's eyes when he finally looks up to ask him and— ] Your eyes!
[ His cane clatters to the ground as he reaches out to grab Jayce's face in both hands. It probably would have been hard to tell if not for the fact that it was the first time, ever, that he was seeing it but— ] I can see their color!
[ jayce bends, he's too tall; his befuddlement comes squished as both sides of his face are cradled, the big roundness of his eyes making the color in them completely deescernable for viktor. the hue of light honey, autumn leaves or ripe pears. not that they would know that, instinctively. they'll have to study it, now. but oh how they shimmer, how they're somehow given more life. jayce is finally caught sharing the stare directly, looking into viktor's now that his sheepishness on the earlier matter has been cut short— and scrambling to steady the viktor by both sides of his ribs after he drops his cane.
he notices. his brows curve upward at the bridge. viktor's iris' pop from their greyscal backdrop— what color is that? shocked, his notebook and pencil drop to the terrain below on an embarrassing spread of viktor's graceful riding gestures and a close up of his face, capturing his essence and the beauty jayce saw. jayce is too startled to care, mimicking viktor's hold with— much bigger, rough hands that curve delicately, as if he were handling the petals of a flower.
incredulous. ]
—How?
[ jayce's jaw drops. it's the most beautiful thing he's seen, and mind you he hasn't seen any other color in his life. but this, it's—
gorgeous. he can't catalog fast enough. he's seeing a color, and it's in viktor's cunning gaze, now as delightfully bewildered as he was. he doesn't even register that they're holding each other's faces in the process of trying to get the best look out of them. ]
It's . . .
[ he starts to smile, starts to huff disbelieving laughs. his eyes sting. he's seeing in color for the first time and he can't look away from them. ]
[ Staring into Jayce's eyes, the intimacy of the moment isn't lost on Viktor. He's focused on the color (color!!) of Jayce's eyes, warm and inviting and beautiful; he doesn't have anything to compare it to other than the greyscale world he's lived in before now, but this would be his favorite color even if it was one in a million.
Where he'd normally jump at the large hands holding his waist, he finds himself melting into them a little. It's hard not to feel comforted by everything about Jayce, even something as decreasingly unfamiliar as his hands on Viktor's body. He feels steadied, physically and emotionally, no longer threatening to teeter over from the strength of his own staring. ]
A miracle. [ He smiles, his grip turning into a gentle cradle of Jayce's face, and leans up to kiss him.
It hadn't been planned, and Viktor is barely aware that he's doing it before he feels the curve of Jayce's smile against his lips. Just as quickly, he pulls back, face hot with a blush that neither of them can see. Viktor doesn't apologize, but he does relax his grip in case he's misread the situation, equations unbalanced, and Jayce wants to step away from him. ]
[ riding his own euphoric high of seeing color (and worrying if viktor would misstep and fall), he overlooks his boundaries. he's holding viktor the way he'd imagine in daydream fantasies and finds the faraway responsibility urging: you should take a step back. but he's smiling too wide, too emotional to rationalize as quickly as he should for viktor's sake. the partner, his friend of months does not shy away from him, he swoops in closer. too close.
—viktor is kissing him.
jayce shortcircuts, completely still, his eyes wide and his pupils blowing up to the point that the hazel in them are nearly eclipsed. he doesn't— react. he's trying desperately to reboot and process from abruptly shutting down. he'd made plans, to take viktor out on this would-be-secretly-but-disguised-as-not-date in the prospect that he could court him away from the eyes stalking the property, in fear of talk beginning to surge poorly for viktor's end. he didn't think he was . . . even a possibility, for the other man. that he'd have to earn viktor's romantic interest through arduous effort.
and he kissed him.
now parted ways, jayce doesn't adjust much of his reaction. it's still very deer-in-headlights as he blinks rapidly and forces himself to think under duress. his heart is caught battering in his throat, in his chest. viktor is still looking at him, and jayce? jayce lacks a reciprocated action. it looks bad. ]
. . . Uhh, [ smooth, very smooth. rather than stepping away from him, jayce scrambles low to grab viktor's cane, and then his damn open notebook in equal haste. he leaves his pencil behind. wobbles back up, stiffly, returns viktor's cane, profusedly dark grey in the face— ] can we . . . Talk, inside? Tack room.
[ he feels like he's going to burst. every fiber of him wants to kiss viktor back. it takes all the willpower in him not to do that, out here in the open where ethan could see, or clarise or sarah or even margaret or anyone else can look through the windows of the mansion's scattered complexes to spy and begin their hurtful rumors until it falls on the ears of viktor's parents.
jayce beckons, rigid and anxious for them to take those few steps needed to get into the tack room. he'll wait. he'll wait right next to the doorway, anxiously tapping his fingers and leaving his notebook on his desk, in the meantime. do not kiss him.
no matter the guilt on viktor's face is going to stew, which jayce knows and avoids for strength. do not look. not yet. protect him, first. ]
[ Jayce's eyes—his gorgeous, colorful eyes—are as wide as saucers as Viktor looks up at them expectantly. He knows that he shouldn't be hoping for anything, that Jayce is free to reject him and they would continue to be partners and friends. Viktor could handle the heartbreak as long as Jayce didn't want him out of his life completely—that would be something worth fighting against, no matter how much he should accept whatever wishes follow his lack of impulse control.
Nothing comes. Viktor feels himself getting hotter and hotter, embarrassed and hurt despite all he tells himself he doesn't have a right to feel that way. He's Jayce's employer, his business partner, higher in social class yet lower in aesthetic value. It was stupid to assume that the closeness they had shared, and what Viktor perceived as flirting, meant that Jayce would want him.
Viktor runs a shakey hand through his hair, willing it to smooth into place. He takes the offered cane without a word and turns abruptly in the opposite direction. Whatever Jayce had invited him here for—a walk, he recalls briefly, probably innocent curiosity about the brace—is forgotten. ]
I'm sorry, I— It's alright, we don't need to talk about it. It won't affect any of our arrangements if you'd prefer to forget it happened.
[ —suddenly, panick. viktor is not coming. in fact, his voice is getting more and more distant, to which jayce promptly jolts forward when he probably shouldn't. he hops to keep the force off his leg, and immediately goes after him. ]
N-no, Viktor, I— [ he hooks a hand to the other's shoulder, tugs to pull him back, or keep him in place. anything to keep him from leaving. ] Please, no.
[ he doesn't want to forget. he wants to replay it in his head over and over. with his pulse thrumming in his ears, the guilty furrow in his brows grows. he squeezes and feels his whole body on wicked fire. ]
. . . I need you in there. Trust me— [ a breathless plea: ] Please.
[ please don't go. he's never been more afraid in his life, in this moment. so excited and leaping out of himself and feeling like he can't be open about it. ]
[ This is why Viktor has tried to avoid emotions and emotional situations all his life: he's bad at reading them. He had thought that Jayce would return the kiss, and then sure that he wanted nothing to do with him romantically, and now he has no idea where they stand somewhere in between. He would have kept going, but the hand on his shoulder... he's weak to that warmth, that strength.
Turning around, it's probably written all over his face the confusion he feels, the rejection that he'd perceived. But now he owes it to Jayce, whatever it may be that he's trying to show him or tell him. Perhaps he's smart enough to not have a row about this in the middle of the stables where someone else may see them—a kiss that was unwanted was best talked about in private. ]
Very well.
[ He hates how small his voice sounds in his own ears, but he has at least enough pride to stand tall as he walks in the direction of the tack room with Jayce. ]
[ — thank god. the relief blows across his face and sinks his shoulders. with a quiet nod, jayce now waits for viktor to hobble in. as soon as that's a success, the farrier will carefully close the door behind them, and give the lock a little click from the inside.
the worst would be walking in on them. being met with a lock only jayce had allowed him some flexibility in whatever excuse he'd give. bathroom break, or something.
his heart starts racing again, having only quelled with reassurance moments ago. in the seclusion that was this room, jayce could now feel . . . the build up. the growing wave hot in his chest becoming much too large to fit within him. he turns his good heel to be met with viktor, and his eyes— he can't take his eyes off him. his breathing picks up. he stares at him, approaches him with a severe gaze, but . . . it is a severe many things. want. longing. age old yearning that he had no idea why he felt that way, so. when he allows his emotions to truly pour, its too strong. why did it feel like a reunion? why did he feel like he'd been so far away and for so long— and he suddenly found him? the needle in the haystack? the diamond in the rough. ]
Viktor—
[ jayce's approach is a little too fast for comfort. ]
[ Viktor focuses on walking, keeping himself steady, and Jayce's feet. He's still not sure what to expect from their change in location, but he knows—hopes—that Jayce is a gentle enough soul not to be violent with him in his rejection.
The click of the lock holds so much potential, and it makes him look up at Jayce as he approaches. The speed is worrying, making Viktor step back until his back hits the nearest wall which he leans on heavily to keep himself upright. ]
[ jayce couldn't have mixed up the signals enough, could he? he'd expect his first given kiss to viktor something chaste and sweet, akin to what he'd recieved— but jayce feels a stumbling neediness when he's right in front of viktor, where space is becoming a nonexistent idea.
jayce takes viktor's face in both hands, tugging him up and forward with significant urgency. the momentum doesn't short stop, it keeps going until—
jayce's lips have crushed into his partner's like a starving man faced with a feast, and fuck do sparks fly. that electrifying implosion sends surges through his limbs, makes him collapse within himself and press viktor into the wall behind them.
he wants nothing more than to swallow viktor whole. his taste, the shape of his upper lip, the inevitable knock of teeth somewhere in his haste, the way his fingers sink into the man's beautiful chestnut locks, all a frantic plea to kiss him again, kiss he back.
It's an unusual thing, more often running laps in moments of surprise rather than shutting down completely. There's no sense to what's happening, though, nothing that can be deduced. Jayce hadn't kissed him before, and now he was kissing him like his life depended on it. It felt like Jayce had been struggling through the desert and Viktor was the oasis' water, disappearing into his lips. He couldn't breathe, could barely move from the shock, and there was a real threat of passing out from lack of air.
His body saves him, stuttering into action now that his mind is stupefied. Breathing through his nose, his lips move against Jayce's and part to invite him to delve deeper. His cane is once again left to drop as he lifts both arms and wraps them around Jayce's torso, holding himself steady and Jayce close. He wants to sink his fingers into Jayce's hair—has wanted to for longer than he cares to admit—but trapped as he is now, he settles for this, for splaying his hands low at the curve of Jayce's back to pull him tighter against Viktor's body.
There's nothing to say, for once. No emotions to explain or equations to work through. All there is in the moment is the feeling that he's wanted this for eons, and now that he has it, nothing in the cosmos is going to stop him from kissing Jayce and being kissed by Jayce. ]
[ the second jayce feels a push back, he practically melts, sinks so cleanly into the kiss that he felt like a buttery mound of muscle with only one thing on his mind: viktor. his partner's mouth spreads and jayce's tongue meets eagerly, sliding in waves to survey, curl and softly smack their lips when their entries lessen. wet, glistening and tasteful, jayce drinks up, peppering long, dragging sessions with shorter pecks to allow them recovery, all of which are so short lived.
jayce guides one of his arms around the waist he'd held earlier, now with more unadulterated passion and tracing on the way down, gripping flesh and bone, making sure there was no space left unoccupied at their hips, which pulsed hot beneath the friction of body and thick fabric. it counted as physical support for viktor too, who jayce felt would like to do his own probing if their feelings are really so mirrored. mindful he must be of his knewly braced leg, so even his center of gravity, viktor would find, is being pulled off his responsibility to better explore the farrier. jayce invites it, with splayed fingers at the peak of viktor's hip bone— to give it a blissful knead, with his opposing hand doing the same to his scalp. he felt so good. it is so much better than he imagined it to be.
god, it was until recently that he realized how much he wanted this, wanted viktor— but in the way that it feels just so right he could've sworn he's been after this man for eons. an idea hits his thoughts, in flashes between his attempts to breathe in this maddening scent of viktor's skin through the nose pressed into the inside of his cheek, delve with his mouth, and with stiff legs jayce backs away with viktor in tow, refusing to part— silently beckoning him to the work desk with slowed, clanking steps infused with metal, with now both hands steadying his torso (jayce touches his own fingertips, encircling viktor's waist in full, oh my god), despite his frenzied lips. he's getting breathless, reluctantly breaks, ]
Desk, [ he manages to huff, taking the opportunity to inhale, exhale, briefly find the other's beautiful pearls for eyes underneath his lashes as they wobbled, but knocking their noses together, flashing teeth that come in to kiss him again, giving viktor a little more gums than lips because he cannot stop smiling but damn it does he try anyway!
he's never felt this bloom in his chest, he's never felt this heat so wild to spread. his whole body and mind felt connected to the moment, connected to him— if this was how sex was supposed to feel like, he's much more interested. maybe all that talk of "the right person" his mother would romantically advise him growing up wasn't silly after all. ]
[ Jayce's hands are everywhere on his body, making it as hard to breathe as the constant press of lips and tongue. Viktor is disappearing into the space between Jayce's hips and the wall, consumed by his larger partner as he wraps around him and keeps him impossibly close. It's more intimate than anything Viktor has ever felt, and they're just kissing.
Feeling more supported now, Viktor lets his hands wander higher up Jayce's wide back and shoulders, mapping out the dips between muscles as they flex and move. He finally gets one up the back of Jayce's hair, the heel of his hand scrubbing at the short hairs at the nape of his neck while long fingers grab at the longer strands. All the while, Viktor sighs and hums and moans into the kiss, little sounds of pleasure accompanying the smack of lips.
He sways as they start to move, and god Jayce's hands encircle his waist so easily. ]
Eager. [ The teasing comes with a smile that is probably more felt than seen as they continue to stay close as they breathe and kiss and laugh together. It's bliss, it's everything, it's moving so so fast.
Viktor allows himself to be maneuvered towards the desk, and then he exerts just enough force to guide Jayce to the chair. They both struggle with standing, and Jayce is more likely to have been on his feet all day during work. So there's a strong encouragement for Jayce to sit, and if he is so inclined to listen, then Viktor will drape himself across his lap to sit sidesaddle. ]
[ he retorts, of equal play and chuffing, implying that there is one more eager soul here with them, and that was the man who kissed him first. which he's—
completely blown out of his mind about, still. to jayce's surprise, he's being the one guided to sit, and it has to be one of his greatest awakenings— what had first began as an offhanded, flirtatious joke between them, viktor now sits on his sprayed lap saddleside. he can't help but to snicker, off guard and placing his hands on both sides of him. tentatively, one of them rest on viktor's thigh, feeling the charge of a magnetic pull that breifly locks their colorful eyes. he gets happily lost in them, no need for directions.
he's so gorgeous that jayce's telling, signature brow furrow puts him in a position of brutally smitten. ]
[ Viktor laughs at that, not having intended to invoke their previous flirting but happy for the coincidence. ]
I did say I could tame you, didn't I?
[ Smiling as he leans in, one hand smoothing up Jayce's chest to cup the back of his neck, Viktor kisses him again but more slowly this time, exploratory. He wants to catalog the shape of Jayce's lips and the way his beautiful eyes fall half-closed when they're close like this. Though Viktor has no intention of making this a one-time escapade, he can't help feeling something in his gut telling him to cherish Jayce and the fact that they can do this, together.
He pulls back, hand traveling higher to twirl a long piece of hair between his fingers as he looks over Jayce's face. ]
I need you to know that I don't intend for this to be a simple dalliance.
[ at this rate he'll never stop smiling. luckily, the more he purses his lips and allows his eyes a half lidded paradise, he falls into place: another wonderful kiss. now that the crazy, adrenaline induced frenzy has simmered with their migration to a chair, jayce can take his time, falling into an easy synchroneity, matching in viktor's rhythm— like pouring water into a cup. even before viktor speaks his honesty, jayce is on the same page. it's not just about the promiscuity of it. it's the intimacy, above all.
he can test the softness of viktor's thin lips against his own, now, he can observe if his beard or whiskers tickle him, how he tastes and how his tongue purls. jayce's flow becomes lazy and content, relinquishing a delighted, curt whimper, while his hands find more ground, not only settling but stroking the stretch of viktor's pants over his leg with a working thumb and circling fingers.
he doesn't want to ever let him go, even when he feels this torrent of intimate togetherness coming to another end, urging him to pull back— he does so closely, marveling and pressing his slickened lips together. he has to shake his head, slow and deliberate. he never thought about him that way. ]
You're so much more than that, [ jayce croons softly, feeling his head dip to the fingers that card into his hair. he studies viktor's face closely, measuring his angles and his moles, padding a thumb to the sharp dip of his cheekbone. ] I . . . even made plans to court you, tonight.
[ he says with comical sheepishness, the saddled horses outside probably a little more than impatient that they're not being used. perhaps jayce should've put the saddle on himself.
he leaves that horrible joke in the crevice of his thoughts to never see the light of day. ]
[ Oh, that whimper is divine, quickly bookmarked to return to later so Viktor can draw more of those sounds from Jayce's plush lips. For now, he smooths his hand back down the side of Jayce's face, cupping his jaw and running this thumb over the curls of his beard. They need to talk about the fact that they're seeing color, too, and Viktor wonders—hopes—that soon he might get to soak up the rest of Jayce's coloring, too. ]
You— [ He laughs at that, not unkindly but certainly surprised. The timing is impeccable, even if Viktor had perhaps jumped the gun, so to speak. ] Well, I shouldn't rob you of that, if you'd still like to.
[ Tilting his head to the side, he runs his hand back through Jayce's hair to push it from where it had fallen into his face amidst all the passion. Viktor can't get over how handsome he is, how perfectly unique and yet totally familiar he is in Viktor's eyes. ]
[ oh, and he will. a romantic sap at heart and no where to really put it until now, jayce fully plans on wooing viktor every day. his gut tells him: every day of his life. he nods with refound enthusiasm and takes it to heart. even if he still has . . . some concerns, it has no place in a moment he'll cherish until he becomes all old and grey. he doesn't want to ruin this.
so he says, with a hand lidding the top of viktor's knuckles and embracing it within his palm, ]
[ It's so tender compared to the hurried passion of earlier, and Viktor finds that he welcomes both equally. Having Jayce's large hand nearly covering his own, he rotates his hand in the grasp so they can slot their fingers together. Viktor never really pegged himself to be one for such little signs of affection, but it feels as natural as breathing with Jayce. ]
So are yours. [ A beat. ] Do you have a mirror? We should see if we're able to see our own eye colors. [ It's an attempt to put science into practice when the situation feels more magical than anything that can be quantified. ]
[ his heart is pulling stunts at something as simple as braiding fingers. it's probably not a good feel, is it? jayce's hands are riddled with broad callouses, scars from burns or miscalculations. they're rough worker hands not at all fit for petting or sweet carresses, but he still wants to feel them brush, feel the space of such delicate, nimble fingers filling the gaps like they were the correct keys to opening him up.
there's a square tack room mirror in between the racks of saddles and champion bow ties. jayce hasn't made use for it until today, when he had to check up on his appearance and groom up moments before they met. but . . . ]
We'd have to get up.
[ his words are a little coy, a bit reluctant— but good humored. he'll get up at the drop of a hat if viktor really wanted to.
or maybe not. maybe they could scoot over to proper view. jayce may be plotting the distance and force needed, adjusting his hold into a full body embrace with safety in mind— ]
☆AR_CANE
would he keep looking his way?
his lips . . . he wished he could—
jayce had started the header of his journal entry describing the brace's success. before he knew it, he'd filled out pages of his notebook only with sketches of viktor. just viktor, moments with viktor in his mind's eye. he begins studying the greyscale pieces, smiling to himself in boyish infatuation page after page. he's thirty-two years old, and his stomach sommersaults like a teenager's. the space between his legs burn with wanting. he—
jayce rests his head on his desk, and runs his hands through his hair in quiet bliss and biting agony.
because he is absolutely smitten, and they're worlds apart. men, separated by wealth and class. and work. what does he do? what does he do when faced with this, but so enamored, pulled by a connection so deep— that he cannot fathom ignoring it? he'll lose his mind. he feels like he'll lose the piece of himself that he's been searching for all of these years.
jayce presses his forehead against a bust sketch and ends up smudging the pencil strokes that bring viktor's hair to life. he's lovesick, and at the same time it brings him completing joy, it also scares him. again: what is he to do?
it is a question that would not be answered tonight. he refrains from touching the roused heat at the base of his pelvis, feeling shame to taint their partnership he wouldn't dare lose, and instead forces himself to curve sideways. he soon exhausts himself and dreams, and it's wild— he and viktor conduct magical experiments together. they eventually achieve success, floating in a magical space of blue, although he wouldn't know how to point it out as such.
runic symbols ripple around them. jayce laughs with childlike youth, pokes a loose cog in the air— and viktor, with a smile he's never seen before, catches it in mid-flight. it's wondrous. it's . . . fun. it's beautiful.
he does his work in the morning, during the day— and waits for the evening with an invite in the works. he doesn't stop thinking. he never stops thinking. as he waits, jayce ends up journaling earlier in the night, resting on one of the benches with two horses tacked up in their stalls. he writes about his dream and it's odd vividness, along with drawing viktor's grinning, sweet face.
what is he going to do . . . ]
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Titanium vendors and pricing?
Statistical data on monochromatic color blindness?
Hobbies / activities in free time?
Single.
The final note feels stupid to include, because there's no way that Viktor would be able to forget the admission nor the way it framed every touch between them, ever smile that wrinkled the corners of Jayce's eyes and flashed the gap in his front teeth. Viktor can't describe the way it had made him feel to thread his arm through Jayce's and walk together, nor the selfless kindness that he'd shown with his gift to Viktor.
Sighing and wishing, for once, that he had more of a knack for at least one of the humanities, Viktor sets down his pencil and leans back in his chair. It's late into the night, or perhaps early into the morning, when he wakes with a crick in his back and the realization that he needs to remove the brace in order to remove his pants.
He should have ask Jayce to help with both.
He shakes his head and focuses instead on hobbling to bed, stiff from falling asleep sitting up and the exercise of the day. Luckily, the brace is incredibly clever, as is Viktor, and he's able to figure out the removal process from having watched Jayce put it on. Setting it aside gently, he collapses into bed and dreams. He dreams of Jayce, looking younger and almost like a stranger compared to his gruff, bearded self that Viktor knows. The dream is in color, but when Viktor wakes, he can't recall what anything had looked like other than the warmth of Jayce's smile. ]
What am I going to do about all this?
[ The first thing is sigh, and then get out of bed. He's just putting the brace back on, freshly washed and clothed, when he receives the invitation from Jayce. It's a little silly, considering they've spent time together almost daily since Jayce's arrival, but the formality of it sparks Viktor's interest—not that he would ever decline.
He bids his time until the evening in the library, writing more notes and seeking out some information on eye structures. He's never been all that interested in seeing color, but maybe he's never had something worth looking at until recently.
Leaving everything strewn on his desk, he sets out for the stables a little early so he can further test the brace, walking the long way around before wandering in through one of the big open doors. ] Jayce?
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Viktor—
[ startled and fumbling his notebook, it only barely misses a fall to the ground before he snatches it between his knees. his pencil doesn't have the same luck, and he scrambles. it's not that he was doing anything wrong, he was only indulging in his hobbies, creating in his space. but. he was probably so focused and now so accutely aware of his embarrassing obsession that he's almost certain viktor would be weary about so many drawings of him.
jayce had been expecting to welcome him from the his front— not behind. ]
I— I didn't see you, [ he sputters, attempting to pocket his book and failing to remember that he's wearing what one may consider to be presentable clothes. snug, dark slacks and a clean, plain (white, probably) top. the notebook doesn't fit in these pockets, so he has to make do with the sheepish realization, glancing sideways and downward, that he's just rubbing it against his thigh. ]
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Were you not expecting me?
[ The trick with his notebook was impressive, drawing Viktor's attention to his knees and then up to where his thick thighs press together. Viktor had hoped to leave indecent thoughts behind him in his bedroom, but it couldn't help the way such a pose made his mouth water. He would have to be truly blind not to appreciate the musculature of Jayce's body, but he also likes to see it in more... vulnerable positions.
Moving closer to stand a step away from Jayce's feet, Viktor looks down at him and takes a guilty moment to admire his dark eyelashes and—trimmed beard? He looks like he's made effort to clean up, and Viktor had somehow missed the fact that his beautiful thighs were wrapped in slacks rather than the thicker pants that he usually wore for work. His shirt was what Viktor could only guess to be white since it was such a lighter tone than the others Jayce was often wearing, clean of smudges and stains. ]
You look nice. Is there another occasion I'm missing? [ Though he's teasing about the fact that Jayce had given him such a generous gift the day earlier, Viktor is already trying to think of a way to return the gesture. ]
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a bit flustered in between, but his chipped smile perseveres. he might as well come out with it, in favor of not fumbling even more with his words. viktor is winding him up with the proximity, his verbal teasing— soon, he won't be able to see them without croaking. his notebook and pencil stay tucked at his side when he starts: ]
I, [ phew. don't grin too wide now! ] thank you, [ all bright eyed and cunning, viktor was— always was. stay focused, for now. he could feel himself go a little crazy of he doesn't do this. ] —Do you want to go for a walk?
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Head cocked to one side, he meets Jayce's eyes when he finally looks up to ask him and— ] Your eyes!
[ His cane clatters to the ground as he reaches out to grab Jayce's face in both hands. It probably would have been hard to tell if not for the fact that it was the first time, ever, that he was seeing it but— ] I can see their color!
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[ jayce bends, he's too tall; his befuddlement comes squished as both sides of his face are cradled, the big roundness of his eyes making the color in them completely deescernable for viktor. the hue of light honey, autumn leaves or ripe pears. not that they would know that, instinctively. they'll have to study it, now. but oh how they shimmer, how they're somehow given more life. jayce is finally caught sharing the stare directly, looking into viktor's now that his sheepishness on the earlier matter has been cut short— and scrambling to steady the viktor by both sides of his ribs after he drops his cane.
he notices. his brows curve upward at the bridge. viktor's iris' pop from their greyscal backdrop— what color is that? shocked, his notebook and pencil drop to the terrain below on an embarrassing spread of viktor's graceful riding gestures and a close up of his face, capturing his essence and the beauty jayce saw. jayce is too startled to care, mimicking viktor's hold with— much bigger, rough hands that curve delicately, as if he were handling the petals of a flower.
incredulous. ]
—How?
[ jayce's jaw drops. it's the most beautiful thing he's seen, and mind you he hasn't seen any other color in his life. but this, it's—
gorgeous. he can't catalog fast enough. he's seeing a color, and it's in viktor's cunning gaze, now as delightfully bewildered as he was. he doesn't even register that they're holding each other's faces in the process of trying to get the best look out of them. ]
It's . . .
[ he starts to smile, starts to huff disbelieving laughs. his eyes sting. he's seeing in color for the first time and he can't look away from them. ]
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Where he'd normally jump at the large hands holding his waist, he finds himself melting into them a little. It's hard not to feel comforted by everything about Jayce, even something as decreasingly unfamiliar as his hands on Viktor's body. He feels steadied, physically and emotionally, no longer threatening to teeter over from the strength of his own staring. ]
A miracle. [ He smiles, his grip turning into a gentle cradle of Jayce's face, and leans up to kiss him.
It hadn't been planned, and Viktor is barely aware that he's doing it before he feels the curve of Jayce's smile against his lips. Just as quickly, he pulls back, face hot with a blush that neither of them can see. Viktor doesn't apologize, but he does relax his grip in case he's misread the situation, equations unbalanced, and Jayce wants to step away from him. ]
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—viktor is kissing him.
jayce shortcircuts, completely still, his eyes wide and his pupils blowing up to the point that the hazel in them are nearly eclipsed. he doesn't— react. he's trying desperately to reboot and process from abruptly shutting down. he'd made plans, to take viktor out on this would-be-secretly-but-disguised-as-not-date in the prospect that he could court him away from the eyes stalking the property, in fear of talk beginning to surge poorly for viktor's end. he didn't think he was . . . even a possibility, for the other man. that he'd have to earn viktor's romantic interest through arduous effort.
and he kissed him.
now parted ways, jayce doesn't adjust much of his reaction. it's still very deer-in-headlights as he blinks rapidly and forces himself to think under duress. his heart is caught battering in his throat, in his chest. viktor is still looking at him, and jayce? jayce lacks a reciprocated action. it looks bad. ]
. . . Uhh, [ smooth, very smooth. rather than stepping away from him, jayce scrambles low to grab viktor's cane, and then his damn open notebook in equal haste. he leaves his pencil behind. wobbles back up, stiffly, returns viktor's cane, profusedly dark grey in the face— ] can we . . . Talk, inside? Tack room.
[ he feels like he's going to burst. every fiber of him wants to kiss viktor back. it takes all the willpower in him not to do that, out here in the open where ethan could see, or clarise or sarah or even margaret or anyone else can look through the windows of the mansion's scattered complexes to spy and begin their hurtful rumors until it falls on the ears of viktor's parents.
jayce beckons, rigid and anxious for them to take those few steps needed to get into the tack room. he'll wait. he'll wait right next to the doorway, anxiously tapping his fingers and leaving his notebook on his desk, in the meantime. do not kiss him.
no matter the guilt on viktor's face is going to stew, which jayce knows and avoids for strength. do not look. not yet. protect him, first. ]
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Nothing comes. Viktor feels himself getting hotter and hotter, embarrassed and hurt despite all he tells himself he doesn't have a right to feel that way. He's Jayce's employer, his business partner, higher in social class yet lower in aesthetic value. It was stupid to assume that the closeness they had shared, and what Viktor perceived as flirting, meant that Jayce would want him.
Viktor runs a shakey hand through his hair, willing it to smooth into place. He takes the offered cane without a word and turns abruptly in the opposite direction. Whatever Jayce had invited him here for—a walk, he recalls briefly, probably innocent curiosity about the brace—is forgotten. ]
I'm sorry, I— It's alright, we don't need to talk about it. It won't affect any of our arrangements if you'd prefer to forget it happened.
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N-no, Viktor, I— [ he hooks a hand to the other's shoulder, tugs to pull him back, or keep him in place. anything to keep him from leaving. ] Please, no.
[ he doesn't want to forget. he wants to replay it in his head over and over. with his pulse thrumming in his ears, the guilty furrow in his brows grows. he squeezes and feels his whole body on wicked fire. ]
. . . I need you in there. Trust me— [ a breathless plea: ] Please.
[ please don't go. he's never been more afraid in his life, in this moment. so excited and leaping out of himself and feeling like he can't be open about it. ]
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Turning around, it's probably written all over his face the confusion he feels, the rejection that he'd perceived. But now he owes it to Jayce, whatever it may be that he's trying to show him or tell him. Perhaps he's smart enough to not have a row about this in the middle of the stables where someone else may see them—a kiss that was unwanted was best talked about in private. ]
Very well.
[ He hates how small his voice sounds in his own ears, but he has at least enough pride to stand tall as he walks in the direction of the tack room with Jayce. ]
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the worst would be walking in on them. being met with a lock only jayce had allowed him some flexibility in whatever excuse he'd give. bathroom break, or something.
his heart starts racing again, having only quelled with reassurance moments ago. in the seclusion that was this room, jayce could now feel . . . the build up. the growing wave hot in his chest becoming much too large to fit within him. he turns his good heel to be met with viktor, and his eyes— he can't take his eyes off him. his breathing picks up. he stares at him, approaches him with a severe gaze, but . . . it is a severe many things. want. longing. age old yearning that he had no idea why he felt that way, so. when he allows his emotions to truly pour, its too strong. why did it feel like a reunion? why did he feel like he'd been so far away and for so long— and he suddenly found him? the needle in the haystack? the diamond in the rough. ]
Viktor—
[ jayce's approach is a little too fast for comfort. ]
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The click of the lock holds so much potential, and it makes him look up at Jayce as he approaches. The speed is worrying, making Viktor step back until his back hits the nearest wall which he leans on heavily to keep himself upright. ]
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jayce takes viktor's face in both hands, tugging him up and forward with significant urgency. the momentum doesn't short stop, it keeps going until—
jayce's lips have crushed into his partner's like a starving man faced with a feast, and fuck do sparks fly. that electrifying implosion sends surges through his limbs, makes him collapse within himself and press viktor into the wall behind them.
he wants nothing more than to swallow viktor whole. his taste, the shape of his upper lip, the inevitable knock of teeth somewhere in his haste, the way his fingers sink into the man's beautiful chestnut locks, all a frantic plea to kiss him again, kiss he back.
please, kiss me back, is all he could think. ]
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It's an unusual thing, more often running laps in moments of surprise rather than shutting down completely. There's no sense to what's happening, though, nothing that can be deduced. Jayce hadn't kissed him before, and now he was kissing him like his life depended on it. It felt like Jayce had been struggling through the desert and Viktor was the oasis' water, disappearing into his lips. He couldn't breathe, could barely move from the shock, and there was a real threat of passing out from lack of air.
His body saves him, stuttering into action now that his mind is stupefied. Breathing through his nose, his lips move against Jayce's and part to invite him to delve deeper. His cane is once again left to drop as he lifts both arms and wraps them around Jayce's torso, holding himself steady and Jayce close. He wants to sink his fingers into Jayce's hair—has wanted to for longer than he cares to admit—but trapped as he is now, he settles for this, for splaying his hands low at the curve of Jayce's back to pull him tighter against Viktor's body.
There's nothing to say, for once. No emotions to explain or equations to work through. All there is in the moment is the feeling that he's wanted this for eons, and now that he has it, nothing in the cosmos is going to stop him from kissing Jayce and being kissed by Jayce. ]
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jayce guides one of his arms around the waist he'd held earlier, now with more unadulterated passion and tracing on the way down, gripping flesh and bone, making sure there was no space left unoccupied at their hips, which pulsed hot beneath the friction of body and thick fabric. it counted as physical support for viktor too, who jayce felt would like to do his own probing if their feelings are really so mirrored. mindful he must be of his knewly braced leg, so even his center of gravity, viktor would find, is being pulled off his responsibility to better explore the farrier. jayce invites it, with splayed fingers at the peak of viktor's hip bone— to give it a blissful knead, with his opposing hand doing the same to his scalp. he felt so good. it is so much better than he imagined it to be.
god, it was until recently that he realized how much he wanted this, wanted viktor— but in the way that it feels just so right he could've sworn he's been after this man for eons. an idea hits his thoughts, in flashes between his attempts to breathe in this maddening scent of viktor's skin through the nose pressed into the inside of his cheek, delve with his mouth, and with stiff legs jayce backs away with viktor in tow, refusing to part— silently beckoning him to the work desk with slowed, clanking steps infused with metal, with now both hands steadying his torso (jayce touches his own fingertips, encircling viktor's waist in full, oh my god), despite his frenzied lips. he's getting breathless, reluctantly breaks, ]
Desk, [ he manages to huff, taking the opportunity to inhale, exhale, briefly find the other's beautiful pearls for eyes underneath his lashes as they wobbled, but knocking their noses together, flashing teeth that come in to kiss him again, giving viktor a little more gums than lips because he cannot stop smiling but damn it does he try anyway!
he's never felt this bloom in his chest, he's never felt this heat so wild to spread. his whole body and mind felt connected to the moment, connected to him— if this was how sex was supposed to feel like, he's much more interested. maybe all that talk of "the right person" his mother would romantically advise him growing up wasn't silly after all. ]
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Feeling more supported now, Viktor lets his hands wander higher up Jayce's wide back and shoulders, mapping out the dips between muscles as they flex and move. He finally gets one up the back of Jayce's hair, the heel of his hand scrubbing at the short hairs at the nape of his neck while long fingers grab at the longer strands. All the while, Viktor sighs and hums and moans into the kiss, little sounds of pleasure accompanying the smack of lips.
He sways as they start to move, and god Jayce's hands encircle his waist so easily. ]
Eager. [ The teasing comes with a smile that is probably more felt than seen as they continue to stay close as they breathe and kiss and laugh together. It's bliss, it's everything, it's moving so so fast.
Viktor allows himself to be maneuvered towards the desk, and then he exerts just enough force to guide Jayce to the chair. They both struggle with standing, and Jayce is more likely to have been on his feet all day during work. So there's a strong encouragement for Jayce to sit, and if he is so inclined to listen, then Viktor will drape himself across his lap to sit sidesaddle. ]
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[ he retorts, of equal play and chuffing, implying that there is one more eager soul here with them, and that was the man who kissed him first. which he's—
completely blown out of his mind about, still. to jayce's surprise, he's being the one guided to sit, and it has to be one of his greatest awakenings— what had first began as an offhanded, flirtatious joke between them, viktor now sits on his sprayed lap saddleside. he can't help but to snicker, off guard and placing his hands on both sides of him. tentatively, one of them rest on viktor's thigh, feeling the charge of a magnetic pull that breifly locks their colorful eyes. he gets happily lost in them, no need for directions.
he's so gorgeous that jayce's telling, signature brow furrow puts him in a position of brutally smitten. ]
Taking me for a ride?
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I did say I could tame you, didn't I?
[ Smiling as he leans in, one hand smoothing up Jayce's chest to cup the back of his neck, Viktor kisses him again but more slowly this time, exploratory. He wants to catalog the shape of Jayce's lips and the way his beautiful eyes fall half-closed when they're close like this. Though Viktor has no intention of making this a one-time escapade, he can't help feeling something in his gut telling him to cherish Jayce and the fact that they can do this, together.
He pulls back, hand traveling higher to twirl a long piece of hair between his fingers as he looks over Jayce's face. ]
I need you to know that I don't intend for this to be a simple dalliance.
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he can test the softness of viktor's thin lips against his own, now, he can observe if his beard or whiskers tickle him, how he tastes and how his tongue purls. jayce's flow becomes lazy and content, relinquishing a delighted, curt whimper, while his hands find more ground, not only settling but stroking the stretch of viktor's pants over his leg with a working thumb and circling fingers.
he doesn't want to ever let him go, even when he feels this torrent of intimate togetherness coming to another end, urging him to pull back— he does so closely, marveling and pressing his slickened lips together. he has to shake his head, slow and deliberate. he never thought about him that way. ]
You're so much more than that, [ jayce croons softly, feeling his head dip to the fingers that card into his hair. he studies viktor's face closely, measuring his angles and his moles, padding a thumb to the sharp dip of his cheekbone. ] I . . . even made plans to court you, tonight.
[ he says with comical sheepishness, the saddled horses outside probably a little more than impatient that they're not being used. perhaps jayce should've put the saddle on himself.
he leaves that horrible joke in the crevice of his thoughts to never see the light of day. ]
Even if I thought I didn't have a chance.
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You— [ He laughs at that, not unkindly but certainly surprised. The timing is impeccable, even if Viktor had perhaps jumped the gun, so to speak. ] Well, I shouldn't rob you of that, if you'd still like to.
[ Tilting his head to the side, he runs his hand back through Jayce's hair to push it from where it had fallen into his face amidst all the passion. Viktor can't get over how handsome he is, how perfectly unique and yet totally familiar he is in Viktor's eyes. ]
Seems we had the same unnecessary worry.
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so he says, with a hand lidding the top of viktor's knuckles and embracing it within his palm, ]
Your eyes are beautiful.
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So are yours. [ A beat. ] Do you have a mirror? We should see if we're able to see our own eye colors. [ It's an attempt to put science into practice when the situation feels more magical than anything that can be quantified. ]
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there's a square tack room mirror in between the racks of saddles and champion bow ties. jayce hasn't made use for it until today, when he had to check up on his appearance and groom up moments before they met. but . . . ]
We'd have to get up.
[ his words are a little coy, a bit reluctant— but good humored. he'll get up at the drop of a hat if viktor really wanted to.
or maybe not. maybe they could scoot over to proper view. jayce may be plotting the distance and force needed, adjusting his hold into a full body embrace with safety in mind— ]
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