[The response is such an interruption upon Viktor's stormy thoughts. His worries for Jayce are so consuming and then the man speaks so softly to him. Not in complaint or grit tooth pain, but with affection. With praise and compliment, despite everything Viktor's done...
He wobbles his head lightly in place, before cracking the slightest smile. Careful with each step as he heads them both towards the Convoy, knowing that this is the easiest way to get Jayce their safely. Throwing him into a truck would only be a bumpy ride and Viktor won't let the man leave his arms for that long, not even as far as a passenger side seat. Time and patience in walking to their destination, together.
Viktor offers back,]
Even though I'm a mess. [not a question, just a statement, in a bit of a sing-songy way he got when teasing Jayce a bit. At least you didn't throw up type tone.
He is Jayce's mess and the man is his. There's no separating them, now.]
[ a mess, he says— jayce barks a wet laugh, curt and rolling his head to the herald's chesg to rest his temple against theheat of his metal collar. ]
If you're a mess, I'm a disaster.
[ they could clean him up. no showers, but a sponge could work. jayce could talk to arcade about the fluid build up later, maybe get that out so talking isn't so . . . hacked up and bubbly. after wrapping up his chest so he doesn't have to look at it, or risk the danger of doing so. not that it was dangerous, but jayce does not want to look at that.
he needed rest. jayce needed to sleep for hours. viktor might just have to get used to his lack of breathing when he actually falls asleep— perhaps what matters most is how his gifted heart keeps beating regardless, soft and unhurried: the single thing that separates jayce from being an actual dead corpse curled on the mattress. ]
no subject
He wobbles his head lightly in place, before cracking the slightest smile. Careful with each step as he heads them both towards the Convoy, knowing that this is the easiest way to get Jayce their safely. Throwing him into a truck would only be a bumpy ride and Viktor won't let the man leave his arms for that long, not even as far as a passenger side seat. Time and patience in walking to their destination, together.
Viktor offers back,]
Even though I'm a mess. [not a question, just a statement, in a bit of a sing-songy way he got when teasing Jayce a bit. At least you didn't throw up type tone.
He is Jayce's mess and the man is his. There's no separating them, now.]
no subject
If you're a mess, I'm a disaster.
[ they could clean him up. no showers, but a sponge could work. jayce could talk to arcade about the fluid build up later, maybe get that out so talking isn't so . . . hacked up and bubbly. after wrapping up his chest so he doesn't have to look at it, or risk the danger of doing so. not that it was dangerous, but jayce does not want to look at that.
he needed rest. jayce needed to sleep for hours. viktor might just have to get used to his lack of breathing when he actually falls asleep— perhaps what matters most is how his gifted heart keeps beating regardless, soft and unhurried: the single thing that separates jayce from being an actual dead corpse curled on the mattress. ]