[ you're worth everything, but that may be coming on too strong, too soon. he just got here, with a previously pearly white piltover coat, now a muddy mesh of greys and deep browns, smeared crimsons and unkept tears, held togsther by the makeshift buckles from his boots and belt. he has thick grime under his nails, smells of magical putresence and probably looks a little insane. sick at worst. the affirmation of a certain something being very important is conferred, instead, by a telling raise of his brows and a slight cant of his head to the side.
yes. it's very important. you, viktor, are very important.
the heart within the curls of his ribs gives a leap, along with the rest of his that looks eerily like a flinch. not back, or retreating, only— surprised. and lacking in much, much time around people. around his thriving love language: touch. it makes him melt uncontrollably under his weathered exterior, the pinch between both his brows giving a quiver. before viktor could think to pull away, he must—
he connects, a dirty, bandaged hand over the top of viktor's, to keep it closer to the rise of his chest. ]
I know.
[ he knows they'd do the same for each other. it's— a lot to take in, all of this, but he is genuine. he hasn't forgotten anything about viktor. he is still imperfectly perfect. jayce hangs onto this moment of contact like a treasured gem, and will allow viktor to slip from his fingers whenever he wants. ]
—Want me to finish it?
[ he gestures to the board with only his head. even eith an answer, it's not like they'll get everything done immediately. they'd need to right circumstances, the right amount of power. have the hexgates even been overused—?
he may be here a while. if he's here on purpose, he'd best make it worth it. ]
[The bandaged hand. The ruined coat. The haunted desperation in every inch of Jayce's posture. All of this speaks to a particularly bleak future, perhaps one not even worth knowing before its time, but as a man of science, Viktor has to at least ponder it -- if not the reality, at least how one would get there. The possibilities of expanding Hextech intrigue him, even if he has yet to decide if they are worth pursuing.]
Professional curiosity demands that I ask you to.
[Even so, it seems as if the unfinished formula will remain that way for the time being: unfinished. Viktor makes no move to pick up the chalk nor to pass it over to Jayce. By sheer accident, he is also between his partner and the board, a situation he makes no move to rectify, even with the knowledge that Jayce could easily put him aside, should he so choose. Viktor probably only takes up half of that great width of shoulders, and Jayce has always been physical. One could blame growing up at the forge for that, (thankfully, Jayce wasn't fully indoctrinated into the upper crust of Piltover society from birth,) but Viktor suspects the other man is just built that way.]
But...
[The hand that covers his own is calloused, dirty, and injured, but it is still warm and quite a familiar comfort. If Jayce is expecting a recall, he instead gets a slender thumb brushed against the tips of his fingers]
I am also thinking that could wait.
[Speaking of time, it would seem this Jayce needs some -- to compose himself, to make himself once again into the confident man that Viktor knows all too well.]
[ there weren't many times when viktor instigated touch, or reciprocated; but when he did, jayce talis knew that is was something special, for a special occassion. did he really deserve all of that? the more he hangs here, he realizes . . . the more he tethers to these memories. they he wished that he could at times just . . . stay. stay and relive this time, the best time of his life, over and over.
these touches back and forth are dangerous. jayce feels the heart in his chest leaping around like a butterfly garden warning him of an intimacy that could seize him at some point— and he wouldn't be able to control himself. yet, with this viktor— he is far too weak to deny him or deny himself of him. jayce's fingers thus linger, and don't retreat. his brows raise and his head nods. ]
Might need a wash. [ that's not even a question, with his raspy voice all dripped with irony. he could us use a shower last year. ] While we wait.
[ and maybe— he could tell him more. they would have to meddle with hextech, and then dispose of it. could they? ]
[Its unfortunate for Jayce's composure that his fluttering heart sits right under Viktor's hand. The fact Viktor can even feel its beat through the thick fabric of Jayce's jacket is telling. Something flickers in Viktor's gaze but he shutters it with another small hum. For the moment, he decides to leave his hand in place. (More data is needed on this particular anomaly.]
Might?
[This time, the raise of Viktor's brows is very pointed. There is no question Jayce could benefit from a shower, and perhaps a fresh pair of clothes too. Viktor may not exactly be the paragon of self-care himself, but he also doesn't generally look like he just crawled out of a fissure. (Well, not in front of others at least.) Jayce gets an appraising look-over that would put even the most discerning of Piltover mothers to shame, before the corner of Viktor lip quirks up in amusement.]
Well. You know where the shower is.
[In case Jayce has forgotten, in-between his time travel and his mysterious purpose, Viktor gestures with his crunch to the corner of the lab -- to the safety shower. True, its purpose is to quickly clean off chemical spills or corrosive materials, but it should also work for cleaning off the debris of inter-dimensional travel, right?
(And if not, beggars certainly can't be choosers.)]
Unless you suddenly found modesty in this future of yours?
jayce's brows lift, and his chapped, cracked lips spread in a knowing smile, dipping his head. during the occasional night where he'd been too lazy to go home, or even needed just a little wake up call— he'd use the damn safety shower when no one was looking. only viktor knew about it. with there sleepness nights of dreaming awake— it was fun.
viktor's hand does not leave him, and in turn, jayce's does not force him back. with his hand still on top of the other's, jayce's thumb begins to rub into the inside of viktor's palm. if he guides it away from his chest, it's only because he could cradle it better, this way.
not being plagued by the glotches in his system, jayce could only feel a massive calm in what he's doing. there are no reminders, no distractions.
he's so weak for him. ]
Still have the soap lying around?
[ they practically lived here during a time. it was certainly the best years of his life. just him, viktor and the confines of this lab, full of dreams. who would've though— he only had that obsession because of viktor.
"that soap" should indeed be hidded somewhere in their drawers. ]
[There is no faster way to distract Viktor than to give him a problem to solve, even if the problem is as simple as locating a lost bar of soap. His brows knit together as he hums, then he glances back over his shoulder, as if he would see the missing item nestled somewhere amongst his papers and machine parts. Alas the bar of soap is nowhere in sight. (Although he now has to wonder how long that mug of coffee has been sitting there.)]
It is...probably were you left it last.
[Like all men of science, Jayce certainly has always had his own system of organization, which of course, isn't exactly complimentary to Viktor's. The two men may be on the same wavelength on many (most) things, but occasionally their paths diverge in instances such as this. Jayce is clearly use to having space, sprawl, while Viktor has unfortunately always had to keep things close at hand.
Although, that isn't to say though that Viktor hasn't learned, with time, how his partner thinks. He hums again, fingers twitching against this Jayce's hold as he turns even more back towards the chaos of their work with a discerning eye.]
Knowing you... [And Viktor does know him, even if this Jayce has the reek of the unfamiliar about him.] It's probably with whatever you went working on last.
[It takes him a moment to remember. It has been a few good weeks since Jayce has been a fixture in the lab, instead spending most of his time in the council or with...well doing who knows what else. Last he was here though...Viktor's eyes track to a familiar drawer...he had been putting extra, unused materials in that cabinet over there.]
Perhaps by the extra copper from the conductivity tests...I could check if...
[Jayce's hand gets an amused look. Whatever changes in the future, Jayce's need for touch certainly has not.]
[ there is a small problem— jayce has no idea where it was last. it's never in the same place, that much he remembers. when the council had taken priority, his stays in the lab would often drift to a bare minimum . . . and ended in a discarded, dry bar of soap somewhere. it makes his chest tighten, and his fingers press into the soft skin of the inside of viktor's hand as he thinks.
—oh.
jayce relinquishes his hold rather quickly once he catches the look, as if he'd been— caught. ]
—Right.
[ his apology goes unsaid, but not unseen. his hazel-golden eyes speak clearly before they divert. he's going to have . . . quite a bit to do, right? he has to remove his brace, before he could get to his clothes. maybe— he should get to work on that, and takes the liberty to pick up some tools and head to a vacant chair.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
yes. it's very important. you, viktor, are very important.
the heart within the curls of his ribs gives a leap, along with the rest of his that looks eerily like a flinch. not back, or retreating, only— surprised. and lacking in much, much time around people. around his thriving love language: touch. it makes him melt uncontrollably under his weathered exterior, the pinch between both his brows giving a quiver. before viktor could think to pull away, he must—
he connects, a dirty, bandaged hand over the top of viktor's, to keep it closer to the rise of his chest. ]
I know.
[ he knows they'd do the same for each other. it's— a lot to take in, all of this, but he is genuine. he hasn't forgotten anything about viktor. he is still imperfectly perfect. jayce hangs onto this moment of contact like a treasured gem, and will allow viktor to slip from his fingers whenever he wants. ]
—Want me to finish it?
[ he gestures to the board with only his head. even eith an answer, it's not like they'll get everything done immediately. they'd need to right circumstances, the right amount of power. have the hexgates even been overused—?
he may be here a while. if he's here on purpose, he'd best make it worth it. ]
no subject
Professional curiosity demands that I ask you to.
[Even so, it seems as if the unfinished formula will remain that way for the time being: unfinished. Viktor makes no move to pick up the chalk nor to pass it over to Jayce. By sheer accident, he is also between his partner and the board, a situation he makes no move to rectify, even with the knowledge that Jayce could easily put him aside, should he so choose. Viktor probably only takes up half of that great width of shoulders, and Jayce has always been physical. One could blame growing up at the forge for that, (thankfully, Jayce wasn't fully indoctrinated into the upper crust of Piltover society from birth,) but Viktor suspects the other man is just built that way.]
But...
[The hand that covers his own is calloused, dirty, and injured, but it is still warm and quite a familiar comfort. If Jayce is expecting a recall, he instead gets a slender thumb brushed against the tips of his fingers]
I am also thinking that could wait.
[Speaking of time, it would seem this Jayce needs some -- to compose himself, to make himself once again into the confident man that Viktor knows all too well.]
no subject
these touches back and forth are dangerous. jayce feels the heart in his chest leaping around like a butterfly garden warning him of an intimacy that could seize him at some point— and he wouldn't be able to control himself. yet, with this viktor— he is far too weak to deny him or deny himself of him. jayce's fingers thus linger, and don't retreat. his brows raise and his head nods. ]
Might need a wash. [ that's not even a question, with his raspy voice all dripped with irony. he could us use a shower last year. ] While we wait.
[ and maybe— he could tell him more. they would have to meddle with hextech, and then dispose of it. could they? ]
no subject
Might?
[This time, the raise of Viktor's brows is very pointed. There is no question Jayce could benefit from a shower, and perhaps a fresh pair of clothes too. Viktor may not exactly be the paragon of self-care himself, but he also doesn't generally look like he just crawled out of a fissure. (Well, not in front of others at least.) Jayce gets an appraising look-over that would put even the most discerning of Piltover mothers to shame, before the corner of Viktor lip quirks up in amusement.]
Well. You know where the shower is.
[In case Jayce has forgotten, in-between his time travel and his mysterious purpose, Viktor gestures with his crunch to the corner of the lab -- to the safety shower. True, its purpose is to quickly clean off chemical spills or corrosive materials, but it should also work for cleaning off the debris of inter-dimensional travel, right?
(And if not, beggars certainly can't be choosers.)]
Unless you suddenly found modesty in this future of yours?
no subject
jayce's brows lift, and his chapped, cracked lips spread in a knowing smile, dipping his head. during the occasional night where he'd been too lazy to go home, or even needed just a little wake up call— he'd use the damn safety shower when no one was looking. only viktor knew about it. with there sleepness nights of dreaming awake— it was fun.
viktor's hand does not leave him, and in turn, jayce's does not force him back. with his hand still on top of the other's, jayce's thumb begins to rub into the inside of viktor's palm. if he guides it away from his chest, it's only because he could cradle it better, this way.
not being plagued by the glotches in his system, jayce could only feel a massive calm in what he's doing. there are no reminders, no distractions.
he's so weak for him. ]
Still have the soap lying around?
[ they practically lived here during a time. it was certainly the best years of his life. just him, viktor and the confines of this lab, full of dreams. who would've though— he only had that obsession because of viktor.
"that soap" should indeed be hidded somewhere in their drawers. ]
no subject
It is...probably were you left it last.
[Like all men of science, Jayce certainly has always had his own system of organization, which of course, isn't exactly complimentary to Viktor's. The two men may be on the same wavelength on many (most) things, but occasionally their paths diverge in instances such as this. Jayce is clearly use to having space, sprawl, while Viktor has unfortunately always had to keep things close at hand.
Although, that isn't to say though that Viktor hasn't learned, with time, how his partner thinks. He hums again, fingers twitching against this Jayce's hold as he turns even more back towards the chaos of their work with a discerning eye.]
Knowing you... [And Viktor does know him, even if this Jayce has the reek of the unfamiliar about him.] It's probably with whatever you went working on last.
[It takes him a moment to remember. It has been a few good weeks since Jayce has been a fixture in the lab, instead spending most of his time in the council or with...well doing who knows what else. Last he was here though...Viktor's eyes track to a familiar drawer...he had been putting extra, unused materials in that cabinet over there.]
Perhaps by the extra copper from the conductivity tests...I could check if...
[Jayce's hand gets an amused look. Whatever changes in the future, Jayce's need for touch certainly has not.]
no subject
—oh.
jayce relinquishes his hold rather quickly once he catches the look, as if he'd been— caught. ]
—Right.
[ his apology goes unsaid, but not unseen. his hazel-golden eyes speak clearly before they divert. he's going to have . . . quite a bit to do, right? he has to remove his brace, before he could get to his clothes. maybe— he should get to work on that, and takes the liberty to pick up some tools and head to a vacant chair.
the air is strained, but it's not . . . bad. ]