boyofprogress | closed rp for [recursiveimpulse]

"Ah-"

Viktor sputters a little, almost flinching under the sudden barrage of praise. Another thing he's going to have to get used to.

"Well. Thank you. But you are not giving yourself enough credit. I still have no idea how you figured out that sequence."

"I was going off of what you had! I did have to turn the notebook upside down a few times but then something clicked when I was looking at it from a different angle.

But Viktor -- " He grasps the other man's shoulder with a firm grip, his whole body practically vibrating with excitement. "Viktor we did this. Together. And it was incredible."

The size difference between the two men is palpable in that moment - Viktor is acutely aware of just how tiny and frail his shoulder must feel under that hand.

A faint pink rises into his cheeks, and he clears his throat, trying to save some face.

"We did - and it was. It really was, and I am eager to get working with you. We have barely begun."

Easing himself out from under Jayce's grip, he shuffles across the room to set his satchel down on one of the desks.

"How do you like the space? Now that we are not using it in the dead of night, that is."

There's a brief, sleep-addled thought to how slight Viktor really is. Some mental calculations involving the span of his hands and the circumference of Viktor's waist before he manages to pull himself back on course.

Though before he can say anything about the future of their work together, Viktor is away and across the room, fussing with his things. For lack of something to do with his hands, Jayce takes up a pen to spin it between his fingers, perching against the desk he'd halfway claimed as his own. "It's great! I mean, plenty of space. All the chalk I could ask for." It's a poor attempt at a joke, but he finds he's longing to see Viktor smile again like he did the night of their discovery.

"A lot nicer without having to sneak around, that's for sure."

Viktor is, Jayce will swiftly come to know, a man of deep sarcasm and dry wit. So it's for an upsettingly long moment that he appears unmoved by the joke, standing there by the desk with a blank expression...until, finally:

"Well. It's important to have chalk you can count on."

He lets that pun hang for a moment before a lopsided smile cracks his face.

"It's all ours now. And I've brought a breakdown of resources at our disposal. The only real obstacles to our progress will be ones of thought."

There's a beat while the pun and its dry delivery sink into Jayce's sleep-deprived brain, but when it does he answers with an amused "Ha!", tossing the pen into the air and catching it with a grin.

And there's that smile. The one that digs into Jayce's chest for reasons he can't quite place. "Look at you, doing extra math already. And because I'm trying to pull my weight, too, there are an extra couple of sandwiches in the fridge for you today." He'd noticed that either Viktor wouldn't bring any food at all to the lab, or whatever he brought would end up forgotten. Poor guy is skinny enough as is, the least Jayce can do is make a few extra sandwiches.

"Anything you want in the fridge is yours, really. I stocked it with drinks, too. That way we can just grab something without having to break too long, if we're really into something."

In different company, he could almost be offended - take that as accusation about his habits. But there is an honesty about Jayce that defuses any potential irritation.

"Well. Thank you."

He starts to walk back towards the other man. Tak. Tak. Tak. His right leg is twisted slightly inwards when he walks. It's frustrating. Soon he'll have to start correcting it.

"But you know, you don't have to go out of your way to pull your weight. It's YOUR thesis, YOUR ideas that brought me here.

You don't have anything to prove to me. We have everything to prove to everyone else."

"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?"

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