[ his chagrin is obliterated upon a touch that stuns him out of his own immersion, to find viktor comforting him and it's— it certainly feels surreal. was he, perhaps, the one seeing visions this whole time? was this his dream? how terribly cruel, if he could think to consider this a dream at all.
jayce gazes sideways toward viktor until their eyes meet, and once they do, he can't exactly pull them away. he takes a good long look, the nimble fingers prying his hand from his face now at the reception of the curl of jayce's fingers around them. and just . . . settling there. until, upon the surface of both their legs, jayce is cupping the side of viktor's hands into a gentle hold. the last time he held it in any way, he was holding on for dear life.
it feels like it's been so long, since he's seen him this way. it makes jayce painfully nostalgic, and as if . . . he shouldn't take it for granted. not even the mole under his eye, or the one above his lip. his line of vision flutters quickly to burn it to memory, down and up, almost too quick to notice if one weren't also hypervigilint, or staring back, or both. ]
[ The physical affection certainly seems to do the trick in distracting the both of them from the tragic story. Jayce is so warm everywhere they touch, that same dreamy fuzzy quality spreading through points of contact like the feeling of his foot falling asleep, only far more pleasant. Maybe they're sharing a dream together, then, if Jayce is made up of colors that seem to react to his mood and Viktor is in a body of picture-perfect health that he'd never had. It could be a different part of arcane space, one that he'd never found on his own, one shaped by both of them together.
Humming softly, pensive but also absentminded, he turns his hands over in Jayce's to thread their fingers together. The color is returning to him, pinks and oranges like the clouds of a sunrise, maybe showing that he's not so lost in the sorrow, a little more hopeful. When Viktor looks up from their hands, his eyes widen at the way his partner is staring as if... as if memorizing something that he's scared of losing. If they wake up from this dream, Viktor fears losing this feeling, too. So he straightens up a bit, sliding along Jayce's side, so he can get close enough to press his forehead to that glowing warmth of Jayce's, noses bumping slightly, and then—
The plunge back into dark waters. Sinking. Drowning. Sleep. ]
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jayce gazes sideways toward viktor until their eyes meet, and once they do, he can't exactly pull them away. he takes a good long look, the nimble fingers prying his hand from his face now at the reception of the curl of jayce's fingers around them. and just . . . settling there. until, upon the surface of both their legs, jayce is cupping the side of viktor's hands into a gentle hold. the last time he held it in any way, he was holding on for dear life.
it feels like it's been so long, since he's seen him this way. it makes jayce painfully nostalgic, and as if . . . he shouldn't take it for granted. not even the mole under his eye, or the one above his lip. his line of vision flutters quickly to burn it to memory, down and up, almost too quick to notice if one weren't also hypervigilint, or staring back, or both. ]
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Humming softly, pensive but also absentminded, he turns his hands over in Jayce's to thread their fingers together. The color is returning to him, pinks and oranges like the clouds of a sunrise, maybe showing that he's not so lost in the sorrow, a little more hopeful. When Viktor looks up from their hands, his eyes widen at the way his partner is staring as if... as if memorizing something that he's scared of losing. If they wake up from this dream, Viktor fears losing this feeling, too. So he straightens up a bit, sliding along Jayce's side, so he can get close enough to press his forehead to that glowing warmth of Jayce's, noses bumping slightly, and then—
The plunge back into dark waters. Sinking. Drowning. Sleep. ]