[ viktor is flesh. he's bone. he's the scent of blood that feels more poignant to jayce than his own harrowing, fairly disgusting injuries. infection and exudate seeps through his clothes; when he breathes, jayce reeks of foul breath, and is so uncomfortably hot through the dampness of his fabrics despite his shivers to stay warm. jayce would have done anything to feel him this way, again. he may accidentally be unmindful of viktor's wounds, only because he's too focused on squeezing him, in putting his hand into the back of his head to disappear in his hair, to wedge his leg and front into him with an insurmountable amount of longing and need for contact, for affirmation that this is real. and it is. he even smells like viktor, and jayce cannot help pressing his nose into the connection of viktor's neck and spine to breathe him in. ]
You and I, both.
[ it felt surreal— jayce had struggled with reason to continue living when his reason was stripped from him, so long ago when the wind kissed his face from his destroyed balcony and he nearly jumped for the pavement. viktor had returned his purpose to him, shared him dream—
now, he is the reason jayce fights to stay alive. his dream, entwined with purpose. he'd survive for viktor, and he'd give everything up again if they were together in their choice to bow out.
there is one thing that manages to come out in an ironic stroke of a laugh, breathless and close to manic. but he feels it between the grope of his fingers on viktor's exposed torso, his boxer shorts, probably cold as hell now and what jayce can try and do to remedy that is keep doing what he's doing. ]
You're soft again—
[ jayce's trembling lips purse, press— a fever hot kiss to the clammy crook under viktor's ear. ]
cw: suicide mention continued
You and I, both.
[ it felt surreal— jayce had struggled with reason to continue living when his reason was stripped from him, so long ago when the wind kissed his face from his destroyed balcony and he nearly jumped for the pavement. viktor had returned his purpose to him, shared him dream—
now, he is the reason jayce fights to stay alive. his dream, entwined with purpose. he'd survive for viktor, and he'd give everything up again if they were together in their choice to bow out.
there is one thing that manages to come out in an ironic stroke of a laugh, breathless and close to manic. but he feels it between the grope of his fingers on viktor's exposed torso, his boxer shorts, probably cold as hell now and what jayce can try and do to remedy that is keep doing what he's doing. ]
You're soft again—
[ jayce's trembling lips purse, press— a fever hot kiss to the clammy crook under viktor's ear. ]