boyofprogress | closed rp for [recursiveimpulse]

"You helped me break in to get my supplies back. You pushed me to keep working, when I -- " He stops, drops his gaze. Twirls the pen again, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air between them. They both know what could have happened, if Viktor hadn't come found him.

Jayce heaves a sigh and scrubs his hand over his face, rubbing the back of his neck. "I feel like I owe you, that's all. For pulling me back into this. I don't think I really said thank you."

Ah.

That makes sense. When you've been caught in the red tape of being assistant to someone like Professor Heimerdinger like Viktor has, you get...a little stagnant. But you never REALLY forget how hard it is to get someone to listen to your ideas. To REALLY listen.

And Viktor certainly knows how dark and insurmountable that can feel.

For now, he smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring, reaching out to gingerly lay a gentle hand against Jayce's (large. hm.) shoulder.

"If you owe me anything, I owe you in return. But if it means we can stop going in circles, then - you are very welcome."

A twinkle in his eye. Teasing?

Viktor's hand is slender, a little cool against Jayce's always too-warm skin, even through the material of his shirt. Viktor only really smiles with one side of his mouth, at least that Jayce has seen. He wonders if he's aware of that. It's sweet. Shy, in a way.

This time, however, is one of those instances where his smile makes it all the way to his eyes, and it warms something inside of Jayce. He returns the smile, patting the top of Viktor's hand where it rests against his shoulder. "I think I can accept that. If you promise to eat lunch with me today."

That hand is much larger than his.

Hm.

He rolls his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, that smile broadening just a little bit more. Jayce has such warmth. A natural light that Viktor had not seen in the mirror in years.

"All right, all right, it's a promise." He shifts a little against his cane, leaning a little to one side and wincing faintly. He is remembering, gradually, the other reason why he had replaced this cane.

There's a joke, maybe, half formed on the edge of his mind when the way Viktor leans catches his attention. And he realizes -- "Oh!" He's using an old cane. Jayce isn't sure really how that sort of thing works, health science isn't his field. But if it's old, maybe it's the wrong size. The wince didn't look comfortable.

With a hand at Viktor's back, Jayce leads him to the closest chair and gestures for him to sit, then goes to grab them a few bottles of water from their fridge. And two of the sandwiches. Might as well eat, while they're thinking of it.

"I need to get those measurements from you," he calls over the shoulder. "I owe you a new cane, after yours bravely sacrificed itself the other night. And don't say I don't!" he adds, before Viktor can protest, heading back over to their desks with the food and water. "If it weren't for your cane, we wouldn't be where we are today."

It seems like, separate of everything else in this lab, Jayce has brought his very own personal source of perpetual energy. Another thing on the list to get used to, but...not a bad thing, either.

The sudden hand at his back, on the other hand, needles Viktor in a place that's never quite healed. A hand darts up to swat at Jayce's - but the strike is pulled, and the regret is immediate on the tinkerer's face. He knows it was innocently meant.

"Sorry," he mumbles softly, fighting back no more as he is guided to a seat.

"You can measure this one, then add two inches. I mis-set the height when I made it."

He pauses a moment, considering Jayce's comment, before adding: "...If it weren't for my cane, I wouldn't be much of anywhere."

Another little joke, self-depreciating.

Edited 2025-04-17 07:25 (UTC)

He sees the gesture -- but also sees the way Viktor pulls it back. Something habitual, maybe? A reflex? "Oh sorry, did I hit you in a bad spot?" He winces in sympathy and sits in his own chair, which he pulls over to be closer to Viktor.

"Two inches, got it," he acknowledges, starting in on his lunch. And then the rest of the comment sinks in and Jayce blinks in surprise. "You made it?" he asks around his half chewed bite of sandwich before swallowing and holding his hand out. "Can I see it? That's really impressive, Vik."

"No - no, you didn't."

And for a couple minutes, it seems like he may just let it go at that, carrying on in the conversation with no further comment, handing his cane over when asked.

"Yes, I did. Thank you. It was...a while ago. Back when I wasn't sure if I would stay here or not."

A long silence as he picks up his sandwich, looking it over before taking a little bite of it and chewing it thoughtfully.

"If I ever - bristle, like I did a minute ago, I apologize. Calling too much attention to my...my condition has only been trouble, in the past. Not everyone has good intentions."

It's clearly made of scrap, this cane. But it's also very carefully selected scrap, and it all fits together almost seamlessly. You have to look really close to see all the separate pieces, the way Viktor has molded them together to make one very functional (if a bit short) piece of equipment.

"By hand?" he asks, looking from the cane to its owner, his expression amazed. "Welded, I'm guessing? That's incredibly impressive. Sorry -- here." And he sets it back against the arm of Viktor's chair, mulling over what he's said.

"At the risk of sounding harsh, I don't care about your condition. I mean -- I do! Care about your -- your wellbeing, but I'm not, uh." He pauses and tries to reorganize his thoughts. Numbers are easy, but words are trickier. People are trickier.

"As long as you can sit here and tell me your ideas, just like this? That's what's important, for me. My intentions are to find out what's in that brilliant mind of yours. Up to you to decide if that's good or not."

"By hand, yes. My access then to larger methods of fabrication was...limited. But I needed something better than a stick."

But then Jayce is saying...well, something new. It's not dismissal, but... it's not belittling him, either. Viktor isn't sure what to think of it. Maybe it's...kind of refreshing.

"...I appreciate the sentiment. For better or for worse, it's...a part of my life. And if we are going to be working together for any length of time...I should warn you that it is progressing, over time."

He realizes how dour his tone has gotten - he clears his throat, adjusting his grip on the sandwich.

"Anyway, I will not let it impede our progress."

Jayce pauses, turning that over in his brain. Something degenerative, then. Both the problem solving and the compassionate parts of him want to jump into this. To fix it, somehow. But bodies don't work the same as machines do. This isn't something a hammer or a wrench can fix.

So his shoulders sag a little, and he nods his understanding. "I'll help, where I can. But I believe you, when you say it's not a problem, in terms of our work.

Um." The mood has gotten a little dark, so he tries to lighten it with a smile, holding up his sandwich like one might a drink in a toast. "Cheers. To our partnership, and to our future work together."

That look. It's not the first time Viktor has seen that look, and regret stings him deep. Maybe it was too soon to bring this up. Maybe he's just bringing the mood down again.

Poor little Viktor.

So it's eagerly that he allows Jayce to pull him up from it, returning the gesture with a bemused little laugh.

"To our partnership."

He takes another bite of the sandwich, only letting the moment hang briefly before trying to release some pressure.

"This is good, by the way. And kind of you. Thank you."

"Oh sure! I always have something hand-held. You know, write with one hand, eat with the other? The ultimate multitasking. And besides, my mom is an amazing cook. I'd be a fool to come into the lab without something she made.

Careful if you meet her, she'll fuss over you for being too skinny and send you home with more leftovers than you can carry. Hell, she fusses over me for being too skinny. Which is why there are six sandwiches in the fridge right now."

He's rambling, he realizes. Filling the awkward silence with enthusiastic talking. But it is true that his mother would worry over Viktor like crazy. Though something at the back of his neck feels warm at the idea of Viktor meeting his mom.

Aaaaand Viktor is quiet again - this time not out of any dour mood, but because he nearly feels knocked from his chair under the sheer volume of chatter coming out of Jayce's mouth.

It's...well. It's kinda cute, actually.

Like a puppy.

"She sounds wonderful. I will...have to wear baggier clothes on the day I meet her, then. Maybe pad them a little, so I don't give her a scare."

Another self-depreciating joke - but this time, his smile is warmer, sincere. A little less sad.

He's having fun.

"She's the best," he agrees, his smile warm and bright. Miles away from the awkwardness of a few moments ago. "Maybe if we layer one or two of my sweaters over yours, the guise could work. Until she pulls you in for a hug, anyway. She's big on hugs." Which might explain why Jayce himself is so comfortable with physical touch. So generous with it.

That particular smile looks nice on Viktor. Jayce tries not to stare openly, but he's pretty sure both corners of his mouth go up, this time. It's sweet, almost.

After a beat or two (maybe half a moment too long of looking at the way Viktor is smiling), he shifts subjects. "You know, you're a lot more adventurous in your work than I initially thought. No offense but you seemed a bit... tight laced, at first? I was surprised. But not in a bad way!" he hurries to add.

It's fortunate that, amongst the things in Viktor's past that haunt him in daily echoes, the fact that he had grown up with no parents to guide him isn't really one of them. It simply is what it was. He sees little point in being jealous about it. It just means he truly is a self-made man.

A man who, also, is a little amused by the staring. He opts not to tease this time, though, letting it slide as Jayce tumbles over himself to avoid upsetting him.

"I actually get that a lot. I do not really know why. Is it the cane? The accent? Ehhhhh...." He gestures broadly with his sandwich. "But - no. No, I am not the kind of man who thinks you can pursue anything while sitting where it is safe."

"Oh, no," he says around his next bite, shaking his head a little. "It's definitely the vest. And the way you wear your tie like it's strangling you a little, it screams stuffy academic.

Whereas I," he gestures to himself. "Wear mine a little loser, and usually undo the top button of my shirt if I can get away with it. It makes me look very devil may care, like I throw away the rule book.

Besides," he adds, finishing off his sandwich and dusting crumbs off his hands. "Even if I shave in the morning, by noon I already have a five o'clock shadow. It adds to the, uh. The aura?"

"The. Aura."

All this gets a bemused, slightly stale look from Viktor - ironically, probably exactly the kind of look that gets him the reputation that he doesn't understand why he has. So what if he likes things that fit? And covering himself?

"...But why?" He arches a brow, a smirk tugging faintly at one side of his lip again.

"Who are you trying to impress here at the Academy, exactly?"

Viktor. Mel, now. The Kiramanns. Everyone on the Council who fought for his exile.

"No one in particular, I guess," he shrugs, crumpling up the paper that held his sandwich and tossing it with surprising accuracy at the nearest trashcan. "Why, are you unimpressed?" It's a bit of a needle. A tease, testing to see if Viktor will tease back. Take the bait, so to speak. Wanting so desperately to know where he stands with this man.

Viktor is a much slower eater than Jayce. While the younger man postures, he chews thoughtfully, watching the display with a faint smirk.

He lets the question hang on purpose for quite a long time, keeping his face neutral to watch if Jayce squirms....

"By how much you button your shirt? Not really. But your ideas, those are something else."

The pause is agonizing, leaving Jayce's mind to spin and spiral a little before Viktor finally answers. His shoulders sag a little on a relieved exhale, and his smile returns full force at the affirmation.

"All right, I'll take it. If you can't appreciate my keen fashion sense, I guess I'll have to accept you approving of my ideas."

Yes, Viktor is getting to learn about the type of man Jayce is. About how hard he's trying, and not only in the field of science.

But he can't really blame Jayce. Everyone has to find their 'in' somehow. Personality can count for a lot.

That will be good, should they need to address the public. He isn't really the speech type.

"I do not give compliments unless I mean them, Jayce. We are out on this limb together now, whatever happens. And your work? It is a strong limb."

...

Shit, that's a double entendre, isn't it?

It's not that Viktor is soft spoken, really. That's not quite the right term for him. No, he's... careful with his words. He only says what he feels needs to be said. Which, honestly, is a welcome attribute in a partner.

Goodness knows Jayce talks enough for the both of them.

The strong limb comment gets a slight laugh out of him, and he shakes his head a little. "Well, working in the forges will do that.

But seriously, Viktor -- there is no one I'd rather be on this limb with than you. Your ideas are sometimes unconventional, but they're brilliant."

They say opposites attract for a reason. It feels true here - something like the poles of magnets at work. Filling in the missing spaces.

He manages not to react more than a chuckle as his double meaning is caught - but then it's right back to compliments, compliments, compliments.

Viktor finishes with his sandwich, crumpling the wrapping in his slender hands and turning it this way and that, as if he's trying instincually to smooth it into a sphere.

"We've only just started to work together, Jayce - you have no idea just how unconventional I can get.

And speaking of that, I want to talk to you a bit more about - the rune. The experiment. Because I may have solved the equations, but you, YOU found the sequence.

How?"

Ah, yes. The rune. Jayce rubs his thumb over his cuff thoughtfully, trying to figure out how to explain it without it sounding like some wild hallucination from a half-dead child.

"When I was a boy, maybe seven or eight. My father took us on a work trip, out to see a new site for a mine. My mother and I decided to go explore the area a bit, and a blizzard hit. Out of nowhere, it just -- dropped down on us, it felt like.

We were stuck. Trapped out in the snow. But then there was a man who came by -- not from the mines, but from the other direction. He had a bracelet with rune stones hanging off it."

Jayce pauses, pressing his thumb harder against the stone. Reminding himself that this happened. This is real. "He was capable of doing magic, this man. And when he activated the rune, he did it with this -- uh this sequence of movements, I guess you would call it. He took me and my mother and he brought us back to safety. Teleported us.

Then he gave me his rune, and I never saw him again."

He drags in a breath, heavy with emotion, and exhales with a trembling sort of noise. Blinking hard to clear away tears. "When we were trying to figure out the sequence that night, I remembered his movements. I copied that sequence for the dial, and it worked. It fucking worked," he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

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