Love You Through It
  Turbuggy  

There truly is no better way to gain insight into someone’s daily life than to share a living space. Information that was once private becomes far more accessible— a part of your own routine, by extension. This was how, after finally gathering the courage to ask Viktor to move out of his original Academy dorm and into Jayce’s new apartment alongside him, the Talis boy made this discovery for himself. Though their close proximity to one another had always offered him small glimpses into Viktor’s life, properly living with him had opened a window into an entirely new set of quirks and habits that he was then tasked with learning. Something he observed quickest was that when it came to rising in the morning, the man was either awake and working at 5am, waiting for Jayce to rise and join him on their walk to the Academy, or he was the equivalent of an old engine struggling to start, complete with grumbling, groaning, and false positives. There was no in-between.

Thus, it wasn’t unusual that when Jayce’s eyes opened that morning, they fell upon a mess of brown hair, poking out of a tightly-wrapped mass of blankets. He had simply smiled amusedly, shifted to press a kiss right into the middle, and headed off to get himself ready for the day. Usually, once he had bathed and dressed, he could coax Viktor out of his cocoon with a cup of coffee— filled to the brim with milk and sugar, just as he liked it. Such an offering was held in one broad hand now, accompanied by a warm, gap-toothed smile down at the man Jayce knew was hidden under those layers of fabric.

“It’s 8 o’clock, V.” He said, placing his free hand onto his hip. All he received in response was a miserable grumble, and the distinct shift of blankets being pulled tighter around the hidden form. Jayce just chuckled, and gestured a little with the mug, “I’ve got your coffee here. I know how you hate when it gets cold.”

“Mmh.”

Scarred brow quirks, and Jayce’s smile morphs into a light smirk. So this was how it was going to go, was it? It wasn’t the first time Viktor had proven stubborn, and most likely wouldn’t be the last, “I’d threaten to drink it myself, but I don’t think I could stomach it.” A tease, which was met with no response. Jayce sighed, “We need to head in soon, if we’re going to—"

“You can, eh… go in.” Finally a reply is given, though the slight strain in Viktor’s tone makes Jayce frown.

“Without you?”

“Yes.”

Now and then over the past couple of years, days would pass wherein Jayce would not see his partner for the entirety of a morning. Sometimes, the man simply wouldn’t show up to the lab at all. These occurrences were rare, and Viktor had always been a private person, meaning Jayce had never felt it appropriate to pry, no matter how curious he may have been. Now, he knew the answer had been simple; Viktor had been at home. Another piece of information granted by their new living arrangements.

With brows furrowed, the Piltovan placed the still-steaming mug onto the side table, and seated himself on the edge of the bed. He reached a hand out, but after a moment’s hesitation, drew it back again. Best not to touch until he knew it was alright to do so, “Is it your leg? Your back?”

Blankets are carefully moved, pulled down enough to expose two weary golden eyes, “…Is there an option for ‘all of the above’?”

Viktor is met with a soft smile from Jayce, and an equally soft chuckle. While these situations were never ideal, finally receiving both a verbal response and a visual on his partner’s face always eased the Talis boy’s anxieties. He leaned forward, and with a soft brush of fingertips, moved a few strands of messy brown hair off of Viktor’s forehead, “Sure. Option ‘C’ it is, then.” Pause, “Tell me what you need?”

For a moment, the Zaunite doesn’t answer. Instead, he closes his eyes, brow creasing, and takes in a slow breath, feeling the persistent flow of electricity weave its way up and down his spine, the tense muscles in his right leg. What did he need? He wanted to get up and go into the lab, bury himself in his work and listen to Jayce ramble excitedly about their next potential breakthrough. As it currently stood, the mere thought of actually moving his body out of its current position made him grimace— though he knew it wouldn’t help him in the long run, if he allowed himself to get stiff. He was laid on his side, a pillow positioned between his knees, and a few more stuffed in around his back, all wrapped up in blankets. He was never without some level of soreness and discomfort, but he had found this setup was best at relieving some of the strain on his back and hips.

“Just… pass me my prescription.” He mumbled, tugging the blankets down a little further, and rubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to rid himself of the remnants of sleep, “The— The strong one.”

Jayce nodded, raising from his seat to wander a hand over the plethora of bottles— both full and empty— that littered Viktor’s bedside table. He passed over the daily preventative, instead targeting breakthrough relief. He shook out a capsule, and placed it in a waiting palm, whose slender fingers curled around it like a lifeline. Viktor tossed it into his mouth, before the pill was replaced with a cup of— admittedly old— water, complete with bent metal straw. It was easier to sip the lukewarm contents from his vertical position that way. His nose scrunches at the stale taste, but he makes no verbal complaint, instead simply passing the cup back to Jayce, who would place it back onto the table to be used far too many times more before finally being refreshed.

“Want me to run a hot bath?”

“No— No, I— I… can’t.” The last thing Viktor wanted to attempt right at this moment was getting up, “Not, eh, not yet, at least. Maybe… later.”

A hum of thought, and a slight tilt of the head. Jayce is still standing next to the bedside, arms now crossed over his chest as he runs through some options in his head, “What about your hot water bottle? Think that would help?”

Viktor’s eyes flick up towards his partner, and back down again. Tongue pokes out to lick dry lips, he swallows. Nods once, “It wouldn’t hurt.”

Though the process of setting the kettle to boil wasn’t an overly long one, it was long enough that by the time Jayce returned with the hot water bottle full and ready to be utilized, Viktor had managed to shift his position a tad, and pull the blankets down from how they had enveloped him. He was rubbing a hand over his leg, jaw set and expression tense. Jayce offered him a light smile, which was rewarded with the briefest quirk of the corner of the Zaunite’s curved lips.

“Painkillers kicking in?”

“Mm, slowly.”

“Good, good.” It’s almost mumbled, as Jayce steps up next to the bed, making a slightly awkward gesture with the soft bottle, causing the liquid inside to slosh, “Do you, um, need me to help at all? Or…”

“I can barely move, Jayce. What do you think?” Despite the words seeming slightly brusque, Viktor’s tone was more akin to a familiar sort of teasing, than irritation, “We’ve done this before.”

Jayce’s next smile is sheepish but genuine, as he nods and steps up until his knees press against the side of the mattress, where he can best lean forward and help as he’s needed. The water bottle is positioned between the Zaunite and the bed, tucked against the curve of his spine as his body is shifted to lay flat, hips rotated and legs straightened. Viktor reaches up to hold onto Jayce in any way he can, one hand clutching the man’s bicep as he groans in pain, and hisses a foreign curse from between clenched teeth. A pillow is placed under his knees to keep them bent, and alleviate pressure between the vertebrae. For a moment, all that Viktor can do is lay, eyes squeezed shut and jaw set, taking in ragged breaths as the electric shocks steal the air from his lungs. As it begins to ebb, the tension is his muscles relaxes, and he’s left huffing and catching his breath.

“Hey, easy.” Jayce soothes, resting a palm over the hand that still clung weakly to his arm, “That’s it for now.”

“Kurva…”

Despite himself, a soft chuckle bubbles up from within the Talis boy’s chest, “I know, V. Take a breather.” Sympathy, but not pity.

Had it been anyone else, those soft tones and gentle touches would have been the perfect formula for getting on Viktor’s nerves. A foolproof way to irritate him, cause him to seethe, make spite roil hot in his gut. But Jayce was different— his intentions were different. Viktor didn’t have to pick his partner’s words apart, didn’t have to wonder what underlying meaning may be lurking beneath every ‘are you okay?’. Jayce simply cared about him, loved him, and that fact alone was enough to allow the Zaunite to ease comfortably into a gentleness he wouldn’t have otherwise allowed. One that he discovered, to his surprise, he craved so deeply that the first time Jayce had knelt next to the bed, smoothed his hair back, and asked searchingly what he could do to help, Viktor had very nearly broken down into tears on the spot.

“I was thinking I could go and pick up some of our notes, bring them back here. I mean, we’re in between projects at the moment, so there’s nothing saying we can’t scratch a few things out from home, right?” Jayce’s voice breaks Viktor from his thoughts, makes him crack his eyes open and peer over at his partner. The Piltovan smiles at him, and the warmth of it envelops him, “Wouldn’t want you to get too bored.”

Viktor wears a faint smirk, “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to tell me something.”

“Considering the last time this happened, you spent the afternoon frustrated about ‘how much time was being lost’, I figured I might be able to nip that in the bud this time around.” The grin on Jayce’s face was bright and cheeky, showing off that adorable gap between his teeth that Viktor loved so dearly.

“My hero.” It’s offered sarcastically, followed by a careful chuckle of his own, though the movement causes a protest from his back that makes his breath hitch. He lets out a shaky exhale, that amusement in his expression faltering. Jayce frowns.

“V?”

“Yes— Yes, I, eh… think you should do that.” Viktor cuts him off before his thoughts can spiral back down into worry. He finally releases his partner’s arm to instead carefully push his fingers through his own wild bedhead, and away from his face, “I promise not to run off in the meantime.”

There was another one of those little lopsided smirks of his, the kind that always set Jayce’s heart alight. The Talis boy nodded, and offered a similar expression in return, though his own held a hint of adoration in the way his gaze was softened, and how it lingered just a touch longer than was strictly necessary.

“I won’t be long. Promise.”

Viktor hummed in acknowledgement as Jayce spoke. The Piltovan was seated on the closed lid of the toilet, leaning forward with his notebook open in one hand, and a pencil in the other. A second pencil— one Jayce had looked everywhere for earlier and was never able to locate— was tucked neatly behind one of his ears. Viktor had known exactly where it was the entire time, but had wanted to see just how long it would take for Jayce to find it on his own.

“… and I really do think it has something to do with the stability of the crystalline structure. What do you think, V?” After a moment of silence, Jayce looked up, gaze turning towards his partner, “Viktor?”

“Mm? Oh, eh… yes, you’re most likely correct.” He mumbled, not even sparing a glance in the other scientist’s direction. Viktor was stretched out in the bathtub, leaning back with a towel rolled and positioned under his neck. One arm rested over the side, hand hanging limp from a thin wrist. His eyes were closed, his long legs slightly bent at the knees, and he seemed to be lost in the soothing heat of the water, “It might be beneficial to look into the crystal’s phonon, test its spectra, what, eh…” he rotates his hand in a clockwise motion, as if he were physically grasping for the words, “what effects it, the frequencies.”

Honey-brown eyes scan Viktor’s body, looking him over as Jayce listens to his addition. He can tell by the informed reply that his partner is listening, but his distractedness gives him away; he’s tired. Days like these— where the constant nagging pain in his body felt amplified— always exhausted Viktor, though he barely spoke of it aloud. By the time evening rolled around, he was usually barely functioning, cognitively. The only reason he may not crash outright is if the protesting from his leg kept him from truly drifting, or the muscles in his back ached too much to lay comfortably. A hot bath, though? That always lulled him into a state of sleepiness, his body soothed by the hot water, senses calmed by the addition of scented salts. Jayce smiled, lowering his notebook and straightening his back, simply watching Viktor’s chest rise and fall, the red marks left behind by his brace having begun to fade with its removal.

Roused by the sudden silence, Viktor cracked a single eye open, and peered out of its corner at the other, “What?”

“Want me to wash your hair?”

An indignant huff, and the creasing of dark brows, “I can wash my own hair, Jayce.”

“I know.” Notebook is closed, set aside on the edge of the sink, pencil resting atop its emblazoned front cover, “I just figured it might feel nice. You know, like a massage?”

Viktor’s expression softens, and he considers Jayce a moment before that single eye closes. He takes in a slow, easy breath, and lets it out in a sigh. A simple nod is all the indication needed, and the Piltovan is soon kneeling next to the bathtub, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, helping Viktor to sit forward— just enough as not to spill water over the edge of the tub as he works. The first wave over his head is almost overwhelming. It sends fingers down his spine, the feeling of being swathed in warmth, everything else drowned out by the sound of trickling water. Viktor leans his head back, and Jayce, liquid cupped inside his capable hands, allows another stream to pour through. Before long, those hands are in Viktor’s hair, fingers massaging over his scalp and lathering shampoo into messy brown locks. The shorter scientist can barely register the room anymore, or the persistent ache in his body. All that matters is this, and how good it feels. Why hadn’t he gotten Jayce to do this earlier?

Jayce can’t take his eyes off of Viktor. He’s gentle in his attention, almost reverent in the way he touches him, runs his fingers through soapy hair, caresses and massages until his partner’s muscles relax under his palms. He loves the peaceful expression on the man’s face, his head leaned back, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, displaying a sliver of crooked teeth. Jayce can’t keep the soft smile from his face, nor can he possibly ignore the blooming warmth in his chest. Gods, he loved him. So very much.

“That feel alright, V?”

“Mhm.”

Perhaps Jayce loses track of time. Perhaps he lathers that shampoo a little longer than is strictly necessary. Perhaps it was intentional— an attempt to offer Viktor just a bit more relaxation for a few extra minutes. Maybe neither party wanted it to end, for a plethora of reasons that were all their own, and theirs together. But, alas, one could only generate so many suds before the point became moot, and the lather began to deflate. Thus, eventually, Jayce was back to scooping and pouring water, washing the shampoo away and leaving behind the smell of soap and bath salts.

“Your hair’s getting long.” The Talis boy mused, sliding his hands lovingly over Viktor’s head, pushing the water back and squeezing it from the brown strands, “Think you’ll cut it soon?”

“Mm, perhaps.” It’s said in a sleepy mumble, the inventor far too entranced to speak clearly, “If I can find the time.”

Those palms trail from head to neck and forward, until Jayce holds Viktor’s face in his hands— cradles it with the adoration of a man lovestruck, brushes thumbs over pale cheeks. Golden eyes crack open in time to see the Piltovan lean in, and flutter closed again as their lips meet. Viktor raises a hand of his own to press against the back of Jayce’s neck, and he tilts his chin up, leaning as best he can into the soft attention. Jayce draws back, but Viktor pulls him in again, stealing a second kiss before they finally part. With noses touching and lips brushing over one another, the Talis boy hums.

“Let’s head back to bed.” He breathes, “I’ll order us something to eat.”

“Takeout. How romantic.” Viktor smirks, and gives Jayce one chaste kiss more, “I’m finished now, yes. Here, help me stand.”

“Comfortable?”

“No.” Viktor shifts his position on the mattress, nose scrunching and jaw tensing. He breathes a single frustrated huff as he settles, “But it can’t be helped.”

Jayce’s brows furrow as he watches his partner adjust his body, attempt to find a position that eased the aches to no avail. Once the two had eaten, Viktor had returned to laying on his side, a pillow positioned between his legs. But he was restless, unable to hold himself completely still as the electric shockwaves buzzed and zipped up through his leg, into his back, and down again. It was as though he thought that, perhaps, if he could just move an inch more to one side or the other, change the orientation of his limbs, he might find some relief. Of course, he knew very well it wouldn’t help— not in the way he so desperately needed it to. Nothing would.

“Do you want me to refill your hot water bottle?” Jayce offers, though it’s met with a slight shake of Viktor’s head, and an irritated scrunching of his features.

“No, just— stay here, now.”

With a soft smile on his face, Jayce reached over to flick off the bedside lamp, before shifting from where he sat next to his partner on the bed. He pulled the blankets back and slipped down to lay at his side, both men facing one another in the dim light of the evening. Careful fingers brushed a few stray strands of fluffy clean hair from Viktor’s pale face, tucking it behind an ear. That hand found itself resting its palm against the Zaunite’s cheek, smoothing a thumb over the mole set high on his cheekbone. Viktor sighed and closed his eyes, seeming to silently ease into the touch. He was so pretty like this, Jayce thought. He was always so pretty.

“…Viktor?”

“Mm…?”

“Can I, um— Can I hold you?”

Tired golden eyes crack open to meet Jayce’s gaze, looking wearily over his face, assessing his slightly sheepish— yet so painfully genuine— expression. He considered the feeling of his partner’s arms around him, if the contact would hurt more than it would help. Considered the comfort of an embrace. In the end, he made his decision with a small nod, and the closing of his eyes once more, “Just, eh… don’t move me.”

“I won’t. Promise.” Jayce offers one of those warm, adoring smiles— though he knows Viktor isn’t looking at him anymore— before scooting forward and moving to settle himself in. He tucks one arm under his pillow, and lays his head down, prepared to wrap his partner in the other… only to jump, and jerk back up. “Ouch! What the—?”

“Did you find your pencil?” Viktor asks without so much as cracking an eye open. A faint smirk has spread itself across his face.

Jayce, with an instinctive hand against his ear, pulls the missing implement forward. It takes a moment of processing before a sheepish chuckle bubbles up from within his chest, “Uh, yeah, I guess so.” He gives Viktor a sideways look, “How— How long did you…?”

“Would it make you feel better if I said ‘not long’?”

“That’s not true, though, is it?”

“No.”

“Dios mío.” Jayce laughed breathlessly, shaking his head and twirling the pencil once between his fingers, “Betrayed by my own partner.”

Though Viktor mustered the energy to offer the other scientist an amused smile in return, it was clear by how quickly it faltered that he was just too tired to keep up the banter. He hadn’t even bothered to open his eyes, or lift his head from his pillow. Jayce took note of the way his dark brows twitched inward, and his nose scrunched, at each twinge of pain. He sighed, before placing the pencil onto the bedside table, and turning back to settle in properly.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” Jayce warns, as he lays his head back down onto his pillow, and wraps an arm around his partner’s shoulders. At first, Viktor’s body tensed, anticipating discomfort, only for his muscles to ever-so-slowly ease when none came. Jayce was careful to remain wary of the man’s reactions, ready to draw back at the first sign of pain. Thankfully, it seemed all was well for now.

True to his word, Jayce didn’t move Viktor from the position he had chosen for himself. Instead, he simply scooted his own body closer, until the Zaunite’s knees made contact with his thighs, and he could hold him gently against his chest. The shifting of the mattress made Viktor grimace, but once Jayce had settled, it was as comfortable as was possible, all things considered. He heaved a heavy sigh through his nose, and ducked his head down to press his forehead into the crook of his partner’s neck. Jayce ran a soothing hand up between his shoulder blades, over the back of his neck and into his hair, eliciting a quiet hum.

“Think you can put your leg on me?” It was something they had begun doing not long after moving in with one another. Ditching the knee pillow altogether, Jayce, laying on his side, had Viktor drape his sore leg over his thighs. This way, they could lay tangled in one another’s arms, bodies pressed together, without sacrificing Viktor’s comfort. This also allowed Jayce to have Viktor hold him and play with his hair, but the former was more important in the grand scheme of things.

“I… don’t know, Jayce.” A frown against the Piltovan’s neck, “We can, eh, try.”

Pillow is carefully tugged out from between the Zaunite’s knees, and placed aside— within reach, should it be needed again. Jayce shifts closer, adjusts the position of his hips, tries to minimize the amount of movement Viktor would have to endure. He lowers his hand, sliding a gentle palm over the offending limb, feeling the man tense in anticipation.

“We don’t have to do this, V.”

“Just— help me move it.”

It’s curt, frustrated, and Jayce doesn’t need to be told twice. He leans his head just a touch to the side, to rest his cheek in that soft brown hair, as his hand wraps securely around Viktor’s calf. He gives a quiet warning, before shifting it forward, and draping it over his thighs, just as they always did these days. Viktor curses into Jayce’s neck, muscles contracting and expression tightening. For a moment, as those blinding bursts of electricity return, he wonders if this was a good idea at all— starts to think himself an idiot for sacrificing the modicum of comfort he had managed to find. But Jayce shifts to press their bodies together, and runs a gentle palm over the entirety of the limb, from ankle to hip, up and down. It’s not a massage— there’s no pressure applied. It’s simply a gesture of care, another way that Jayce had discovered to display his adoration, his fondness. Viktor focuses on that feeling, until the currents turn to sparks, and his muscles begin to relax. The soothing feeling of Jayce’s body against his own is worth it, he decides.

“Sorry. I know that probably hur—"

“Don’t.” Viktor sighs, his tone weary, “I agreed to do it.”

Jayce is silent for a moment, rubbing over his partner’s leg, until he eventually opts to rest his hand against the small of Viktor’s back, where he knew it to be most sore. His palm fit into the curve perfectly, just as it always did. It was one of the Talis boy’s favorite places to initiate contact, his touch often migrating there as they walked alongside one another. He could feel Viktor’s muscles tense with each new twinge, and ease again as it ebbed back into that persistent ache. He laid there in the dark, the pale moonlight that peeked through the window giving everything an ethereal glow. If only there was more he could do to help.

“I think you’re right, you know.” Jayce finally spoke, breaking the comfortable silence with a soft voice, “About the phonon. I’ve been thinking about it since you mentioned it.”

Viktor had very nearly drifted in their prolonged moment of quiet, lulled into a feeling of comfort by his partner’s gentle affection. It was a warm feeling, being loved. A feeling that enveloped you wholly and truly, held you close and made you believe that nothing could ever possibly harm you. Viktor could have lost himself in it, now, if Jayce’s voice hadn’t pulled him back.

“Jayce.”

“Hm? Yeah?”

“Go to sleep.” Though his face was hidden, the light smirk on his lips was clear in his tone. As much as Viktor truly did love listening to his partner’s passionate ramblings, he was exhausted. His body ached, and it sapped the energy away from him with each passing moment. They could talk about this further tomorrow, in the lab.

“Oh— yeah, right, of course. Sorry.” A sheepish smile, and a glance down at Viktor— though all that Jayce could see was the top of his head, and his mess of hair. He sighed almost dreamily, and pressed a kiss against it, listening to the contented hum that followed, “I love you, V. You know that, right?”

“Mm, how could I not?” A mumbled, weary retort, but a retort nonetheless, “You won’t let me forget.”

That gains a breathy laugh from Jayce, who does his best to keep his volume low in the stillness, “I can’t help it. Sometimes it’s just… nice to hear it, you know?”

A pause follows, wherein Viktor mulls this over, considers the words and decides he agrees. Perhaps, if you had asked him only a few short years ago, he would have told you it was irrelevant. That such sentiments were arbitrary. That connections like these were wholly unnecessary for one’s success and happiness. Now, he would call that version of himself a fool.

Viktor broke the calm silence one final time, before finally drifting off, “I love you, mé světlo.”