[ oh, he's so wet and sticky, what has he been laying in? the smell is starting to make his nose pinch, he tastes iron and something unidentifiable— his eyes are rolling less when he tries to glance around yet remains unfocused as the world dances and splits into two, sometimes three in his dizzying vision. the thing that soothes what starts as agitation (he wants to move, he wants to know where he is, what he's doing here and that's probably a bad idea), there are spindly purple arms decked with gold around his wide shoulders. all around them. has he heard those words before—? ]
My line . . .
[ his words come in sluggish drawls, like he's still being jostled from a deep sleep his most recent memories need to catch up to him. jayce knows the accent, and the face that sharpens through his foggy focus when he turns it sideways and snags viktor's burried profile. he doesn't know what all of this is. there's tubes? does he need these? should he pull at them? he's not at a hospital, he doesn't need tubes (but jayce's movements are lazy enough to be redirected; he's still getting a feel for his surroundings).
something more striking to look at is . . . viktor, right now, anyway. hugging him like this. was this a dream? he'd like to hug him, too, but only manages to revolve his head and knock the back of his skull against his partner's. a clumsy arm misses its mark when it slabs up and fails to grasp. it takes a few more tries to manage hooking his fingers onto the metallic groove of viktor's arms. huh. they're so long. they're bigger than him, even. ]
You got . . . So big, [ jayce still feels like he's dreaming— like this is surreal. an out of body experience, a funny skip in time to wake up to. ] What're they feeding you—?
no subject
My line . . .
[ his words come in sluggish drawls, like he's still being jostled from a deep sleep his most recent memories need to catch up to him. jayce knows the accent, and the face that sharpens through his foggy focus when he turns it sideways and snags viktor's burried profile. he doesn't know what all of this is. there's tubes? does he need these? should he pull at them? he's not at a hospital, he doesn't need tubes (but jayce's movements are lazy enough to be redirected; he's still getting a feel for his surroundings).
something more striking to look at is . . . viktor, right now, anyway. hugging him like this. was this a dream? he'd like to hug him, too, but only manages to revolve his head and knock the back of his skull against his partner's. a clumsy arm misses its mark when it slabs up and fails to grasp. it takes a few more tries to manage hooking his fingers onto the metallic groove of viktor's arms. huh. they're so long. they're bigger than him, even. ]
You got . . . So big, [ jayce still feels like he's dreaming— like this is surreal. an out of body experience, a funny skip in time to wake up to. ] What're they feeding you—?