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Summary
“Very classy, Man of Progress.”
Now it was Jayce's turn to shake his head at the nickname with a chuckle. “Thanks, Vitya.”
He said it this time, still in jest, but without the silly voice. When he looked back at Viktor he seemed a bit different, a subtle look to his face that Jayce couldn’t place. His cheeks looked pink, and the pop of color had moved to his chest. He was usually so pallid, it was almost strange to see him with so much warmth to his skin.
“Is the wine making you warm?” Jayce said with a chuckle. Viktor cleared his throat, letting out an awkward laugh.
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Jayce tries to celebrate with Viktor in a way that's more comfortable than banquets and parades. They're both exhausted, overworked, and a bit tipsy. Jayce gets bold.