[ jayce feels cornered. a part of him knows he should not speak of it. he could not speak of it with the viktor of his present for some time, he couldn't speak of it with anyone— it does not bring ease to him when he thinks to spill it to the viktor of his past. he'd only bring him suffering, guilt and pain he could not yet be held accountable for . . . for something jayce did. they did. tragedy after tragedy should not be his cross to bear right now. jayce takes time to formulate; he knows that this will not satisfy, in fact, it may only fan the flames of his partner's valid chagrin. ]
You haven't asked me yet.
[ he manages as much, but feels a rise of prickling tension up his spine, like waiting for a dangerously tight coil to spring on him. his answer is a parry and he knows it, enough that he feels that he should not be taking the liberty of hugging him this way anymore. jayce's arms come undone, his forehead rises from the spot on his partner's skinny back— and he hangs there, close behind him in the tight enclosure of the tub.
jayce anticipates something like the grumble of a storm, and that makes his chest tight, his thoughts run— he wants to say something but it's caught in his throat, preemptively feeling his eyes pinch shut in a flinch— ]
no subject
You haven't asked me yet.
[ he manages as much, but feels a rise of prickling tension up his spine, like waiting for a dangerously tight coil to spring on him. his answer is a parry and he knows it, enough that he feels that he should not be taking the liberty of hugging him this way anymore. jayce's arms come undone, his forehead rises from the spot on his partner's skinny back— and he hangs there, close behind him in the tight enclosure of the tub.
jayce anticipates something like the grumble of a storm, and that makes his chest tight, his thoughts run— he wants to say something but it's caught in his throat, preemptively feeling his eyes pinch shut in a flinch— ]
Viktor—