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“To the beat, Jayce,” Mel corrects, momentarily putting an end to the sweet sound of Jayce’s singing voice, off time though it may be.
Jayce heaves a deep sigh, shoulders rising and falling dramatically as his head lulls back on his neck. Eyes closed, his face scrunches up a moment in frustration. A stark contrast to his relaxed sprawl across the chaise lounge he’s been given to pose on.
Viktor smiles fondly, looking back down to his new lute and beginning to strum the song again. He hums the melody, and Jayce takes a breath to relax before beginning to sing the lyrics.
“Oh fair and flighty love…” his voice is beautiful, like liquid honey, and it wraps around the lyrics Viktor’s written in a way so gorgeous that Viktor can hardly fathom it. If only he could figure out what rhythm is.
Mel smiles, a pleased vision above Viktor. From his place with his head in her lap, the approaching dusk makes her look like a golden angel from above, painting scenes of heaven and naked men on fancy couches, dressed in a yellow robe like liquid light.
He still doesn’t understand how she can produce such evocative pieces of art with a palette knife, but he doesn’t really understand how Jayce does it with a pencil or charcoal either.
“My aerolite above, the only dove I see,” Jayce goes on, Mel humming along under her breath. From the way she taps her finger on Viktor’s chest, it’s probably more to make sure Jayce is staying in time rather than an actual desire to sing. She’s more of a dancer, less prone to humming a tune and more to pacing her movements with the melody and rhythm to it.
“Could you love me more,” Jayce smiles, eyes still closed, and begins to move with the song. Mel tuts at him for it, but she’s as reluctant to end the sound as Viktor is. “If by the sun and moon I swore,” Mel sets her knife down and runs fingers through Viktor’s hair.
He has to make the conscious effort to stay focused on the strumming of the strings, to not let her relax him so much that the music, and Jayce’s tenuous grasp of the beat, is thrown off. She chuckles quietly like she’s aware of this.
“That I would never flee?” Viktor hears ruffling as Jayce sits up, but thinks little of it in favor of joining him in singing the next part of the song.
“Well I still taste you on my lips,” Viktor’s singing voice is, according to his lovers, alluring and sultry, but Viktor is fairly sure it’s just alright. Still, even as they part around the lyrics, Mel’s thumb traces his bottom lip gently. “Lovely bitter water.”
Feet pad against the marble floors, “The terrible fire of old regret is bitter on my tongue,” Viktor cannot help but smile as a shadow blocks Mel’s light, kneeling next to her and draping over her shoulder to look down directly at Viktor. They shoot each other dopey looks as Mel cards a hand through Jayce’s hair and fiddles with the collar of Viktor’s loose shirt.
“And I know I shouldn’t love you,” Jayce’s hand trails softly down Mel’s back, and she leans into it, “I know I shouldn’t love you,” Viktor presses the side of his face into Mel’s stomach, never breaking eye contact with the man haloed in light above him, “But I do.”
They all join in to sing the lyricless oh sounds, smiling at each other and bathed in sunset’s light. Jayce shuffles so that he sits on the tile, legs spread around them both and a white cloth keeping his ass from getting cold and covering his dignity both. Nothing they haven’t seen before, but Jayce has such an adorable sense of modesty sometimes.
Mel’s voice trails back out when the lyrics arise again, and Viktor mourns the light note she brought to their harmony. “I found it in my soul, I feel the empty hole,” Jayce and Viktor sing, while Mel begins to shift.
She nudges Viktor’s temple, directing him off her lap, but Viktor turns stubbornly to nuzzle into her lap. “The cup that can’t be filled,” Viktor’s tone grows pouty, and Jayce’s takes an air of laughter, “I feel it in my blood,” Mel squashes the backs of her fingers against Viktors cheek, and he reluctantly moves down to rest his head on Jayce’s thigh instead, if only to save the song. It isn’t as soft, and he sighs dramatically between lines to make sure they know his complaints.
“In the fire and the flood,” Viktor slings his elbow over Jayce’s knee, and though the notes stutter a bit, Jayce does not lose time. Mel makes a pleased noise and kisses his cheek, before sliding down with a hand on his chest to rest her own head on his other thigh. “The beast that can’t be killed.”
Viktor turns his head to gaze into Mel’s eyes, as she reaches over to run her fingers over his cheek. “Even now you mark my steps,” Viktor feels a large hand run through the hairs on the back of his neck, and watches it’s counterpart trace the golden shapes embossed into Mel’s shoulder. “Lovely bitter water,” from where he lay, he can almost feel the rumble of Jayce’s chest as he sings.
“Oh,” their legs tangle, “the days of our delights are poison in my veins,” and Viktor’s nose scrunches as cold toes press into his bare calves. Damn his choice to wear pants that go only to his knees today. “I know I shouldn’t love you,” The devious little smirk on her face makes Viktor want to kiss her, but there’s still an entire verse left of the song, and Jayce is so close to getting through the whole thing without messing up, “I know.”
As a reward, Viktor supposes, Mel joins them for the last leg of the song. Her voice is quiet, but no less beautiful for it.
“I am not a fool entire,” Jayce’s hand stutters in surprise, and when Viktor’s eyes flick up to his face, he’s struck by the look of utter adoration in his eyes as he stares down at the both of them.
“No, I know what is coming,” Mel’s eyes flick up to the same sight, and though she just laid down, she props herself up once more to cradle Jayce’s face.
“You’ll bury me beneath the trees I climbed,” though his progress is slower without the use of his hands and with the ache of his bad leg, Viktor sits up as well, “When I was a child,” and Jayce’s arm snakes around his waist to pull him flush without Jayce even looking. Mel moves to straddle the thigh she laid on, and Viktor sits on the other, turning slightly toward them both while keeping enough room to play.
“I know I shouldn’t love you,” Viktor’s head tilts back against Jayce’s shoulder, “Well,” Mel’s hand on Jayce’s face strokes along his jawline, and the other draws shapes on Viktor’s collarbone, “I know I shouldn’t love you,” she lowers her head to bury her forehead in Jayce’s neck, hand moving to trace the muscles of his back,
“But I do.”
Viktor could watch them for the rest of his life, he thinks as the sun finally lowers enough to bathe them in darkness, seeing only by the grace of candlelight.
They all breathe deeply, soaking in the presence of one another, not a face untouched by an expression of love. Viktor strums spare notes on his lute, a low and crawling tune to set the mood. He feels Jayce’s hand move to his hip, rubbing firm circles in a spot he knows gets sore after a long day.
“Good job, love,” Mel whispers, “you were perfectly in sync with the music.”
Jayce practically glows with pride, face flushing in joy. He buries his nose between her locs and presses kisses to her temple in gratitude.
“Yes, and your voice was as beautiful as always. I cannot imagine anyone better to sing my songs.” Viktor tells only the truth, and after long enough knowing him, Jayce can fully believe that, as Viktor does not give facetious praise.
“You are both too kind to me,” Jayce mutters into the side of Mel’s head.
The melody trails off, and Viktor sets his lute to the side, turning leisurely into Jayce. His outside arm draws around his neck, and the other crawls around Mel’s waist. He leans in to press kisses to a muscular, tanned neck, nipping and sighing against the skin.
“Never too kind,” Mel says, eyes closed as she basks in their warmth, “not to you.”
Jayce laughs softly, like he can hardly believe what’s happening, “God, I love you. Both of you.” He says it like a prayer, like he always says it, and Viktor’s chest feels full to bursting as it does every time he hears those words.
“Mm, I love you too,” Viktor replies into Jayce’s neck, kissing it into his skin like he can tattoo the words there with his lips. He’ll have to settle with hickies.
“Yes,” Mel’s regal voice is absolutely lathered in fondness, “I love you.” She sighs, and Viktor feels it in his skin like she’s injected love into the air just by breathing.
Hands over skin, mouths lain wherever they like, breathing done in a rush, they come together so beautifully, every time. Viktor has never felt so appreciated, Mel never so accepted, Jayce never so understood. They fit against each other’s sides like they were carved to do so.
They’ve never been happier.