[ jayce meets him halfway, knows the hesitation for what it was (or at least he thinks so) and gathers viktor's hand from his wrist, downwards facing palm and curled fingers. the hold he gives is quite firm, a reminder, ]
Together.
[ before he plants his heels and lifts, his other hand soon to shepherd viktor from the small of his back in a testing hover. the weight of their contact is ever present— to their own surprise. jayce feels like a fizzy, heated star at the grip, and viktor, a body at a temperature not unlike quench water at their point of contact. steps are going to come as they can here, but the lack of sudden danger isn't exactly reassuring. jayce feels like he can't trust it (then again, he can't trust much of anything as of late; not even himself).
silence as they try to move forward falls under the same umbrella of disagreeable where his nerves are concerned, and the occasional, encouraging murmurs of that's it and i got you don't actually count, despite jayce wishing for it to fill something. he catches sight of what looks like a running fountain and leads them to the sound of a contained, smallscale cascade. it's not until his particularly bad leg buckles at the knee that jayce staggers with viktor in his arms. a gasped shit resounds and his good leg catches them, at the cost of a much tighter grip, but luckily they are within reach of the pristine marble surface, and crystaline water.
no pain, per se. but the dream echoes his true body, should this one not be it. they take a seat, they look around. well, jayce looks around, an absent hand on top of his thigh and stroking the ghost of muscles pricking. speaking of assumptions, the lull is killing him. jayce decides to break it once he could sit down. you know, the way he always breaks his problems. hammer, nail. ]
Got any theories?
[ it's what they're good at. it's what they could fall into, to figure this out. it's what they could do to ignore the massive fucking elephant in the room doing pirouettes on a circus ball. ]
no subject
Together.
[ before he plants his heels and lifts, his other hand soon to shepherd viktor from the small of his back in a testing hover. the weight of their contact is ever present— to their own surprise. jayce feels like a fizzy, heated star at the grip, and viktor, a body at a temperature not unlike quench water at their point of contact. steps are going to come as they can here, but the lack of sudden danger isn't exactly reassuring. jayce feels like he can't trust it (then again, he can't trust much of anything as of late; not even himself).
silence as they try to move forward falls under the same umbrella of disagreeable where his nerves are concerned, and the occasional, encouraging murmurs of that's it and i got you don't actually count, despite jayce wishing for it to fill something. he catches sight of what looks like a running fountain and leads them to the sound of a contained, smallscale cascade. it's not until his particularly bad leg buckles at the knee that jayce staggers with viktor in his arms. a gasped shit resounds and his good leg catches them, at the cost of a much tighter grip, but luckily they are within reach of the pristine marble surface, and crystaline water.
no pain, per se. but the dream echoes his true body, should this one not be it. they take a seat, they look around. well, jayce looks around, an absent hand on top of his thigh and stroking the ghost of muscles pricking. speaking of assumptions, the lull is killing him. jayce decides to break it once he could sit down. you know, the way he always breaks his problems. hammer, nail. ]
Got any theories?
[ it's what they're good at. it's what they could fall into, to figure this out. it's what they could do to ignore the massive fucking elephant in the room doing pirouettes on a circus ball. ]