ic contact.

[deushexmachina]

"Hi, probably just easier to find me in the lab. I'll get back to you."

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[theorems]

[He had sent Jayce out for the day, insisting he needs his privacy in the house until sunset.

When Jayce returns, he'll see several lit candles outside their shared house, along the window sill.]

[deushexmachina]

[His patience sanded to grit by the disappointment of his failed foraging mission—no iron so easily found these dusty hours—he concedes his efforts with the sun roasting his back.

A burgundy dusk paints his way home, the orange embers of the candles flickering amid blue velvet evening.]

Viktor? [He leans over, tapping at the window sill, peeking in.]

[theorems]

Come in.

[He calls from inside. It's not like they lock the door either. Who's going to break in that a lock is going to stop them at?

Inside there's more candles. Not a whole lot more, but they're all lit at once, and they're more than what they usually use for lighting when it gets dark. On their shared table, there's two glasses, and a few bottles of alcohol. Some small snacks, like cheeses and meats. Viktor's sitting at the table already, and intentionally distracting himself with trying to get one of the bottles open, because he's too embarrassed to see what Jayce's expression will be when he sees the small surprise.]

[deushexmachina]

[When inside and looking around, his worn grimace softens and his golden eyes glance from candle to glass to Viktor's face to the bent knuckles turning white as they pry open a bottle.

Jayce closes the door behind him.]

This looks special. [His tongue feels like sawdust, his fingers drip against his thighs.] You even got little cheeses. [He cheeks radiate pink.]

[theorems]

This? It's nothing. Barely worth noting.

[He gives a slight, one-shouldered shrug, still struggling with that fucking bottle. He sighs, and hands over the bottle to Jayce as he's done dozens of times before now.

If Viktor's face is also a little red, it's clearly from the struggle of opening a bottle. No other reason.]

[deushexmachina]

[Without itching for clarification, he strides over to take the offered bottle, his forefinger and thumb touching around the wedged cork. The bubbled glass lip of the bottle whines, the stopped suctioning air until—pop!—liberation. He hands it back, his mouth pressing back a question.]

It's not nothing, [Jayce murmurs, his fingertips reaching for Viktor's hollowed, heated cheek.] I love it.

[theorems]

[Viktor can't deny the blush that rises to his cheeks now and he looks away, then back to Jayce- eyes wide, brows pitched up. His gaze drops to Jayce's lips, away again, and finally landing on the bottle he's holding.]

Don't distract me or I'll drop it...

[He's going to try and pour them their glasses at least.]

[deushexmachina]

You sent me out, [fingers soft against scalp, swimming through waves of hair,] a knight errant. Just so you could set up this. [Candlelight flickered against wafting air, light entangled with shadows. He smoothes his hand through that hair, down the curve of his head.]

That is sneaky, Viktor.

[Wine, or otherwise, licks the concave round of those two glasses.]

[theorems]

I am going to spill this, and you are going to have to clean it up.

[Because the hand in his hair feels good, too good. He suppresses a shiver, and in the last splash of wine, it slips over the rim of Jayce's cup and Viktor frowns.]

See?

[But they both have glasses now, of decent fullness, so he can set the bottle aside. He takes his cup, holding it out, and waiting. Cheers him, bro.]

[deushexmachina]

[Mirroring the motion, his smile halfway curved, partially pressed into a line, Jayce toasts in perfect symmetry.]

To progress, [a common refrain reflexive on his tongue. A pause, and then:] Our progress.

[He opens his mouth, aching to say more. Teeth clack against teeth.

And, quietly,] To you.

[He silences himself with a fast, deep gulp.]

[theorems]

[Viktor sips it slower, more in line with how one should savor wine, watching as Jayce downs it a little more urgency than really required. Jayce's adam's apple bounces, and he watches that too, his eyes straying and he's unconcerned about it.]

We still have two more bottles, no need to race.

[To you. He thinks of them again, tries to make sure they leave a mark in his mind. Something more permanent than just a quick snapshot of a thought. He wants to remember their time together, like this.]

This is for us. No one else.

[No investors or sponsors to impress. No need to be some shining star amongst the Piltovan elite. Just Jayce, please.]

[deushexmachina]

I know, [he wipes his mouth with the back of curled fingers, his blush a dusted pink.] You're right. How did you acquire two bottles? [Jinx, probably, he thinks as his other hand grips the glass.] I, uh, [his tongue drags against his teeth, his throat suffering sudden drought. He doesn't know why he's nervous.

But when he looks at Viktor, illuminated by that soft candlelight, his nerves catapult. The gentleness lacing the humid air, the soft glow on those hollowed cheeks.]

This is — really nice, Viktor. I should've—[a small wince, in decimal]—done something, too.

[Flowers, at least.]

[theorems]

I have an insider connection.

[Viktor whispers in a conspirator tone, but yeah. It's just Jinx. The girl drinks like a fish.]

How would you have known what I planned? This was intended as a surprise.

[He reaches out, his fingers a little dry and rough, sliding them over the back of Jayce's hand. His gaze unwavering.]

And also intended to be relaxing. There is nothing to be anxious over. You can reciprocate in a different manner later. If you want.

[With your mouth.]

[deushexmachina]

[With Viktor's pointed logic, Jayce relaxes, his ego soothed. Cutting a sharp little smirk, he turns full attention to his partner. Eyes on the hand smoothing over his own. His shoulders ease, he exhales,] If you're sure.

[Jayce leans to close the gap between and kisses him, on the nose and then on his lips.]

I'm going to reinvent lip balm for you, [he murmurs against those lips.]

[theorems]

I am sure.

[And he relaxes a little more himself, along with Jayce, returning the kiss once Jayce's lips meet his.]

Hm. You can. I still won't use it.

[He grins back, and bites Jayce's lower lip just to be annoying.]

[deushexmachina]

Ow! [His wound, unspeakable.] Your teeth are so sharp, and for what? For biting me?

[theorems]

For biting you. I sharpen them every night for the purpose of drawing your blood.

[He runs his tongue over his sharpest tooth- which actually, isn't much sharper than the average person's, really. Unfortunate.

Viktor pops a piece of cheese and meat wrapped together into his mouth.]

Do you remember that cafe on Center street? It was ten minutes from the lab. I miss it.

[deushexmachina]

You told me that high carbon steel file was meant for a new runic calibrator. [The accusation dances playfully on his tongue, his eyes following that meat-and-cheese into Viktor's mouth. He shifts his posture, a sudden heat rising.]

The cafe—? Oh! Yes, [he swallows,] the one on Center, yes. One of the few places you'd go without coaxing.

[theorems]

Oh, I used it for that too.

[And didn't sanitize it afterward, between either use. Sorry not sorry!!]

They had these... little pieces of bread, made of black sour rye.

[Where's he going with this? Nowhere he has a plan with, really. Just having a bit of nostalgia, as he leans his chin against his hand and watches Jayce's face. Admiring it, really. He's seen it so often, for over ten years, and he's never gotten tired of it. Every part he's thought he's memorized, he still finds fascinating to look over once more.]

[deushexmachina]

[Viktor... he will invent sanitation wipes... he'll do it...]

Right, [the flicker of a memory warms the curve of his smile,] I remember. With a little egg and butter.

[A minor huff, a shake of his head,] Amazing how easy it is to mourn the past.

[theorems]

[No he loves his germs, they're his comfort characters.]

It does not have to be mourned. I believe you will visit again some day. If they don't close in our absence.

[Words, carefully chosen.]

Nevermind, it was a trifle of a thought. Something to talk about so I was not just staring at you in silence.

[deushexmachina]

I never minded you staring at me in silence. [Theirs was an uncanny awareness.] But if you'd dwell with me in the future instead of the past, I'd love that, too.

[theorems]

[He laughs a little huff of air, knowing he's been caught in his pessimism.]

You are right.

In the future, we will visit the cafe again. And in the future, I will bring you to the Undercity, find the strangest foods offered, and watch you try them.

[deushexmachina]

[He grins, broadly,] And what would you consider to be the strangest food? Surely nothing exceeds your half-sugar, quarter-cream coffee concoction?

[theorems]

Oh, that is what you think is the strangest? Some Piltovian restaurants serve roasted bone marrow on toast. On second thought, I will have to start you off easy. Fried seaweed should suffice.