Work Text:
“Jayce,” Viktor said with no small amount of alarm. He took a step back, eyeing the bundle in Jayce’s arms with a profound wariness. “What is that?”
“Don’t be mad,” Jayce said. “I just—I couldn’t leave her behind. It’s raining really hard out there, storm of the century, you’ve seen the news—”
“No,” Viktor said immediately. “No, absolutely not—”
“Vik, please, she’s just—”
The thing in Jayce’s arms rustled within the blanket that nestled it.
Viktor took another step back. “Jayce.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jayce said, though he started to smile, the traitor, as something poked its head out from the cradle of his arms. It was furry, wide-eyed, and still slightly wet.
"Meowww," said the kitten.
"Fuck," sighed Viktor.
–
The problem was not that Viktor did not like animals. He liked them just fine. As a child he’d begged his mother for a pet, but she’d always refused—nothing so fragile lasted long in the Undercity. Viktor now knew that better than anyone. But Viktor was not made of machinery; his heart was not made of steel. He could admit when something was endearing. He had admitted it to Jayce, after all, who was not so different from a fluffy animal himself.
No, the problem was not the kitten itself. It was the distraction.
His eye twitched as the chiming continued. Jayce, whose betrayals were verging on unforgivable, was flat on his stomach on the floor of the laboratory, tugging a toy just out of reach of the kitten’s sharp claws. The toy was his own invention, of course, some mechanism of string and bells.
It was noisy, as string-and-bells contraptions were wont to be.
“Must you do that here?” Viktor snapped, finally, slamming his pen on the table.
Jayce looked up, and the kitten took the opportunity to swipe the toy away, taking it in its mouth and running away—towards Viktor.
“She likes you,” Jayce said, instead of answering Viktor’s question.
“She is delaying the timeline of our experiments.”
“Vik,” Jayce said, dusting himself off as he stood up. “Vitya. It’s raining, it’s cold. No one wants to work right now.”
“I want to work,” Viktor said, fighting to keep his defences up as Jayce came nearer.
“Do you?” Jayce asked, pressing himself up against Viktor’s back. He leaned down and nosed at Viktor’s cheek gently.
Speaking of distractions.
“The funding deadline closes in a week,” Viktor said, though he could feel himself already crumbling. It was cold, and Jayce was damnably warm. He always was.
“Take a break,” Jayce murmured. He hooked his hands under Viktor’s arms and began to gently pull him out of his chair.
The kitten mewled, pouncing on Viktor’s shoe and chewing at one of his shoelaces with determination. It was a futile but commendable effort, Viktor could admit. He sighed as Jayce leaned down to scoop the kitten up with one hand, then put another on the small of Viktor’s back, leading him to the chaise they kept in the lab for experiments that ran through the night.
Jayce sat, setting the kitten on his lap.
“That’s my spot,” Viktor groused.
“There’s enough room,” Jayce said, patting his thigh.
There was.
The rain poured incessantly, a quiet hum that filled the background. Viktor tucked his face into Jayce’s neck and let himself take a break, if only for a moment.
Occasionally, the noise of a bell rang out, skittering across the room.
It was not, in the end, the worst way to spend an afternoon.