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hearts and spades

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He settled down on his back, aligning his leg straight and reaching up to fluff the pillows better, then opened his arms to beckon Jayce - but, thinking better of it...

"You should move to my left side, perhaps."

Humming his assent, Jayce sat back up. He moved to pass over his body, trying not to jostle the mattress next to Viktor's knee. Instinctively, Viktor brought his hands up to steady him, placing them on the sides of Jayce's thighs where he was straddling him, caught mid-motion. Jayce stilled, then, and shifted to balance his weight on both knees, careful not to rest any of it on Viktor. Instead, he hesitatingly placed his hands on Viktor's chest, and looked down at him with dark eyes.

Viktor ran his hands up and down Jayce's thighs, slowly. You look good like that. "You'd better not fall on me," he said instead.

"I won't," Jayce said, and leaned down to kiss Viktor, and oh, this was so much better.

He braced his forearms on the mattress on either side of Viktor's head - a solid inch between their bodies still, where Jayce was positioned ever-so-courteously. He cupped the man's jaw as they kissed, and let his other hand sneak under his shirt, trailing along the rippling muscles.

"Urgh," Jayce hissed, pulling back for a second. "Vik, your hands are so cold."

"That would be the iron deficiency," Viktor said dryly, attempting to unbutton Jayce's shirt one-handed with no success. "You're hot enough for the both of us."

Jayce hid his grin in the crook of Viktor's neck, causing Viktor to give up his futile attempts and wrap his arms around the man's shoulders.

"Believe it or not, I get that a lot."

"I meant the body temperature."

"...did you?"

"No," Viktor admitted, trying to suppress his smile as the man nosed at his ticklish neck. God forbid that Jayce discovered this weakness; he needed to tread carefully here.

Jayce laughed, light and breathy, and sat back up, letting his hands roam Viktor's clothed chest. Viktor appreciated his core strength, to keep his balance like that, but he wished he could feel Jayce's weight pressing into him without the risk of setting his pelvis off.

"Uh, Vik? How many... men have you been with?" Jayce asked out of nowhere. "Well, people, but..."

Bewildered, Viktor looked at Jayce.

What?

"...What?"

He raised one eyebrow, "And what makes you only assume men?"

Jayce waved a hand, gesturing vaguely at Viktor's...everything.

Viktor scrunched up his nose. "I... feel like I should be offended by that." Not an incorrect assumption, to be fair.

Had Jayce succumbed to an abrupt bout of jealousy, or was this his idea of pillow talk?

"Why do you ask?" he settled on.

"Well, I've only really been with women. I wanted to know if you, um, usually..." Jayce trailed off. "I mean, you know, your... role," he finished lamely.

"My role." Viktor tried to suppress his amusement, he really did, but his lips were stretching into a grin of their own accord. "In society, or?"

Jayce groaned, rolling off him and flopping face-first into the pillows. Viktor wriggled his arm under Jayce's neck and pulled him closer. He was getting too comfortable with this, he thought. His body had started reaching towards Jayce by itself.

"I hate you."

"I'm technically middle class, if you're only judging based on net income."

"I hate you," Jayce repeated, muffled. "Also, that's class, not role."

"Did you take social studies?" Viktor asked accusingly.

"Yeah, junior year." Jayce turned his head to the side, nosing against Viktor's chin. "The only other option was fucking poli-sci."

"And look at you now," Viktor remarked, carding his fingers through Jayce's hair. "Councillor Talis."

Jayce made a face. "If you ever call me that during sex I'm quitting."

"Quitting the council position, not the sex, I'd hope?"

Jayce muttered something that sounded like obviously into his neck.

Viktor snorted and coaxed Jayce's head back down to his chest. It was a comforting touch, and Jayce's hair was surprisingly soft - did he not use gel?

"And as for my role, most of the men I've been with preferred to be the active party, but I can't say I care much for it," He paused. "It's just...easier."

Jayce hummed his understanding. "What do you prefer, then?"

Viktor bit the inside of his cheek. "Truthfully, no matter my role, it can be painful either way."

"Yeah?" Jayce sounded disappointed, and Viktor tried not to let that sting.

"I'm sure we can still entertain ourselves somehow," Viktor remarked. "You're a creative man, Jayce."

Jayce propped his chin on Viktor's chest to look at him.

"I've been told I'm rather good with my mouth, you know," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Hmm, and are they right?" Viktor questioned, fingers tightening in Jayce's hair. Jayce raised his head and lifted himself up on one elbow, coming nose-to-nose with him.

"Wouldn't you like to find out," he teased against his lips.

-

"But using the word 'damnation' in the first place implies that you think there is a hell."

"Wow, Viktor. Is this always how you are after sex?"

"Yes. Though the religion topic is a first."

"There's a joke here about me being a God in bed," Jayce started contemplatively.

Viktor splayed his open palm flat on Jayce's face.

"For your own good, I suggest you do not make it. I might have to kick you out."

Jayce laughed and Viktor felt the vibration of it rumble through the man's chest, where he was pillowing his head. He was content, for now, but the uncertainty of the situation continued to eat at him. What did Jayce want? He couldn't puzzle it out, and it felt a bit like a blade hanging over his head.

What did Viktor even hope for? It was difficult to make a choice when he didn't know what his options were.

Did he really expect Jayce to be pliable to all his habits, to his schedule, enough to not encumber the quiet routine he'd carved for himself? He curled his lip at this; wishful thinking. Maybe it would be a mediocre, milk-and-water partnership born only out of chemistry, that fizzled out into nothing? A stifling ordeal, where Jayce tried really hard to present him as a respectable piltie to the public, and Viktor tried really hard to not be bothered by this?

Was he getting ahead of himself, when Jayce only wanted something physical?

"I don't think hell exists. Or at least, not the one with fire and demons, or whatever people say."

Jayce had spoken with Viktor's hand still over his face, so Viktor removed it and propped himself up on one elbow.

"Then?"

"Then what?"

"Then what happens after you die?"

"This might be the most macabre post-coitus conversation I've ever had," Jayce stated, amusedly.

Viktor just chuckled, instead of saying yes, I suppose you've never had to ponder death much, or maybe to avoid examining why he felt the pull of meaningful conversation now, when he'd never cared for other people's belief systems in the past.

"And besides, why are you just assuming you'll go straight to hell?"

"I'd better," Viktor retorted. "If I landed in Heaven, I'd think the divine spirits made a clerical error."

The rain had started softly pattering at the window, a rhythmic sound that soothed his racing thoughts, and he laid his head back down on Jayce's chest. He was alive, and swaddled up in the duvet, with a warm body wrapped around his. He could have this, right? He could have this for tonight.

Jayce snorted. "Ha-ha, clerical. Like the clergy. I get it."

-

That night, Jayce stayed. Viktor dreamt in fractured glimpses, waking up disoriented every few hours, unused to sleeping next to someone; he was jolted from sleep by sudden stabbing pains whenever Jayce bumped against his knee or elbowed him in the back unconsciously, and bit his lips so he didn't cry out and wake him.

-

He didn't own a clock, but it was likely just before dawn. Viktor stared at the ceiling, unblinking, listening to Jayce snore next to him. He was warm as a furnace, even shirtless, and Viktor shifted closer to ward off the morning chill. His joints had already stiffened from the weather, and he dreaded having to get up soon, knowing there would be no comfortable position to sit in today.

He turned to look at Jayce. He had never gotten the chance to study him so up close.

The small white scar below the eye, that he had noticed before. About one centimetre long; thin, but it had clearly been deep - the raised tissue caught the light that was starting to stream through the curtains. He wondered how Jayce had gotten it. Lab accident? Childhood tussle? He reached out to touch it, stopping a hair breadth from Jayce's cheekbone.

Jayce scrunched up his face at the featherlight touch; his eyelashes cast long, graceful shadows on his cheek in the near-darkness. Viktor pulled his hand away, not wanting to disturb him.

Damn it all.

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